Journal of Language Relationship: Volume 15/1-2 9781463237813

Citation preview

ɳɹʓʕʎʃʇ ʒɴɴʘ ʎˁ˫˵ˣ˻˙ ː˫˧ˣˁ༤

ʓˋ˧˘̀ «ʜ˘༤˥༤˥ˆ˘̀. ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ»

ʒ˥˨˨˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˆ˥˨˫ˊˁ˧˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˆ˫ˢˁˣ˘˪ˁ˧ˣ˻˙ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʒ˥˨˨˘˙˨˜˥˙ ɯ˜ˁˊˋˢ˘˘ ˣˁ˫˜

ɰ˙˚˛˙˜˯ ˴ˊ˯ː˙ʻ˙ʼ˙ ˛˙ʿ˜˞ʻʸ ʍˋːˊ˫ˣˁ˧˥ˊˣ˻˙ ˣˁ˫˵ˣ˻˙ ː˫˧ˣˁ༤

̘ 15, ˵ˁ˨˪˼ 1—2 (2017)

ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ 2017

Russian State University for the Humanities Institute of Linguistics of the Russian Academy of Sciences

Journal of Language Relationship International Scientific Periodical

Nº 15, issue 1–2 (2017)

Moscow 2017

ʍˀʿʸː˨ˌ˙˗˗˯ˍ ˜˙ʻˀ˞: ɳ̀˵. ɳ˨. ʃɳɯʎʐɳ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ – ʌ˥˨-ɯˣˊːˋ༤ˋ˨) / ˦˧ˋˊ˨ˋˊˁ˪ˋ༤˼ ʝ. ɯʄʝʎɹʒ (ɳˋˣˁ) ɳ. ɲʌɯɾɹʇ (ɲ˧ˣ˥) ʘ. ɲʨʇʓʕɹʒ (ɯˣˣ ɯ˧˄˥˧) ɳ. ʜ. ɳʦɸʒʃʎ (ʑˁ˧˘ː) ʍ. ɴɹʌʌ-ʍɯʎʎ (ʓˁˣ˪ˁ-ʜˋ) ʜ. ʇʐʒʕʌɯʎɸʕ (ʌˋ˙ˊˋˣ) ɯ. ʌʘɲʐʟʇʃʄ (ʌˋ˙ˊˋˣ) ɸː. ʍʨʌʌʐʒʃ (ɲˋ༤˱ˁ˨˪) ɯ. ʪ. ʍʃʌʃʕɯʒɹɳ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ) ʌ. ʝɯʄʍɯʎ (ɲˋ˧˜༤˘)

ʍˀʿʸː˨ˌ˙˗˗ʸ˴ ː˙˕˕ˀʼˌ˴: ɳ. ɯ. ɸʦɲʐ (ˆ༤ˁ˅ˣ˻˙ ˧ˋˊˁ˜˪˥˧) ɴ. ʓ. ʓʕɯʒʐʓʕʃʎ (˖ˁˢˋ˨˪˘˪ˋ༤˼ ˆ༤ˁ˅ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˧ˋˊˁ˜˪˥˧ˁ) ʕ. ɯ. ʍʃʝɯʄʌʐɳɯ (˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˨ˋ˜˧ˋ˪ˁ˧˼) ɯ. ɳ. ɸʦɲʐ ʓ. ɳ. ʇʘʌʌɯʎɸɯ ʍ. ɯ. ʍʐʌʃʎɯ ʃ. ʓ. ʫʇʘɲʐɳʃʠ

ɾ˫˧ˣˁ༤ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˁˣ ʇ. ɳ. ɲɯɲɯɹɳʦʍ

© ʒ˥˨˨˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˆ˥˨˫ˊˁ˧˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˆ˫ˢˁˣ˘˪ˁ˧ˣ˻˙ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪, 2017

Advisory Board: Vyach. Vs. IVANOV (Moscow – Los Angeles, California) / Chairman W. BAXTER (Ann Arbor, Michigan) V. BLAŽEK (Brno) H. EICHNER (Vienna) M. GELL-MANN (Santa Fe, New Mexico) L. HYMAN (Berkeley) F. KORTLANDT (Leiden) A. LUBOTSKY (Leiden) J. P. MALLORY (Belfast) A. YU. MILITAREV (Moscow) V. F. VYDRIN (Paris)

Editorial Staff: V. A. DYBO (Editor-in-Chief) G. S. STAROSTIN (Managing Editor) T. A. MIKHAILOVA (Editorial Secretary) A. V. DYBO S. V. KULLANDA M. A. MOLINA I. S. YAKUBOVICH

Founded by Kirill BABAEV

© Russian State University for the Humanities, 2017

ʘɸʇ 800(05) ɲɲʇ 80/84̀5

ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ: ʍˋːˊ˫ˣˁ˧˥ˊˣ˻˙ ˣˁ˫˵ˣ˻˙ ː˫˧ˣˁ༤ / ʒ˥˨. ˆ˥˨. ˆ˫ˢˁˣ˘˪ˁ˧. ˫ˣ-˪; ʒ˥˨. ˁ˜ˁˊ. ˣˁ˫˜. ʃˣ-˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀; ˦˥ˊ ˧ˋˊ. ɳ. ɯ. ɸ˻˄˥. Ɇ ʍ., 2017. Ɇ ̘ 2(15). Ɇ xii + 146 ˨. Ɇ (ɳˋ˨˪ˣ˘˜ ʒɴɴʘ. ʓˋ˧˘̀ «ʜ˘༤˥༤˥ˆ˘̀. ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ»: ʎˁ˫˵ˣ˻˙ ː˫˧ˣˁ༤).

Journal of Language Relationship: International Scientific Periodical / Russian State University for the Humanities; Russian Academy of Sciences. Institute of Linguistics; Ed. by V. A. Dybo. Ɇ Moscow, 2017. Ɇ No. 1(15). Ɇ xii + 146 p. Ɇ (RSUH/RGGU Bulletin. Series: Philology. Journal of Language Relationship: Academic Journal).

ISSN 2073-6320

http://www.jolr.ru/ [email protected]

ɸ˥˦˥༤ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˖ˣˁ˜˘: ʓ. ɴ. ɲ˥༤˥˪˥˅ Add-on symbols by S. G. Bolotov

ʑ˥ˊ˦˘˨ˁˣ˥ ˅ ˦ˋ˵ˁ˪˼ 10.06.2017. ʜ˥˧ˢˁ˪ 60×90/8. ɲ˫ˢ. ˥˱˨ˋ˪ˣˁ̀. ʑˋ˵ˁ˪˼ ˥˱˨ˋ˪ˣˁ̀. ʕ˘˧ˁː 1050 ˽˜˖. ʁˁ˜ˁ˖ ̘ɏ38 ʃ˖ˊˁ˪ˋ༤˼˨˜˘˙ ˴ˋˣ˪˧ ʒ˥˨˨˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˆ˥˨˫ˊˁ˧˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˆ˫ˢˁˣ˘˪ˁ˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ 125993, ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ, ʍ˘˫˨˨˜ˁ̀ ˦༤., 6 www.rggu.ru www.knigirggu.ru

Table of Contents / ʎ˙ʿˀ˛˄ʸ˗ˌˀ

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

vii ix . x

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

xi

Table of Contents / ʓ˥ˊˋ˧ːˁˣ˘ˋ

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Contributors / ʓ˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ˥˄ ˁ˅˪˥˧ˁ˲

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Note for Contributors / ɲ˫ˊ˫˹˘ˢ ˁ˅˪˥˧ˁˢ

Issue 1 / ʛʸ˜˞˰ 1 Preface / ʑ˧ˋˊ˘˨༤˥˅˘ˋ

Articles / ʎ˞ʸ˞˰ˌ Ignasi-Xavier Adiego. The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1

[ɾʼ˗ʸˊˌ-ʞʸʺ˰ˀ˛ ɭʿˌˀʼ˙. ʓˁˢˁ̀ ˦˧˥˨˪˧ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜ˁ̀ ˣˁˊ˦˘˨˼ (Kesme 2)]

Elisabeth Rieken. Word-internal plene spelling with and in Cuneiform Luwian texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

19

[ʣ˕ˌˊʸʺˀ˞ ʍˌːˀ˗. ʃˣ༤ˁ˫˪ˣ˻ˋ ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣ˘̀ plene ˨ ˘ ˅ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨ˣ˻˲ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˪ˋ˜˨˪ˁ˲]

Zsolt Simon. Selected Pisidian problems and the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

31

[ɹ˙˕˞ ʞˌ˖˙˗. ʐ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢˁ˲ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˘ ˥ ˋˆ˥ ˢˋ˨˪ˋ ˨˧ˋˊ˘ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅]

José Virgilio García Trabazo. Über luw./heth. dMar(ku)waya- ‘Dunkle Gottheit(en), Unterweltgottheit(en)’ und ai. mr๗gá- ‘Wildtier’ als Reflexe schamanistischer idg. Vorstellungen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . .

43

. . . . . . . . . .

51

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

60

[ʘ˙˜ˀ ɰˀ˛˦ˌ˕ˌ˙ ɱʸ˛˜ˌʸ ʐ˛ʸʻʸ˜˙. ʝˋ˪˪˥-༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘ˋ dMar(ku)waya- ๑ʕˋˢˣ˻ˋ ˄˥ːˋ˨˪˅ˁ, ˄˥ːˋ˨˪˅ˁ ˦˥ˊ˖ˋˢˣ˥ˆ˥ ˢ˘˧ˁ๏ ˘ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˘ˣˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˋ mr๗gá- ‘ˊ˘˜˘˙ ˖˅ˋ˧˼’ ˜ˁ˜ ˥˪˧ˁːˋˣ˘̀ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˘˲ ˸ˁˢˁˣ˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘˙]

Miguel Valério. ̥ΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ and word-initial lambdacism in Anatolian Greek [ʈˌʼˀ˕˰ ɰʸ˕ˀ˛ˌ˟. ̥ΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ ˘ ˁˣ༤ˁ˫˪ˣ˻˙ ༤ˁˢ˄ˊˁ˴˘˖ˢ ˅ ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˥ˢ ˆ˧ˋ˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ]

Mariona Vernet. Hi-inflected verbal *CóC-stems in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian . . .

[ʈʸ˛ˌ˙˗ʸ ɰˀ˛˗ˀ˞. ɴ༤ˁˆ˥༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˥˨ˣ˥˅˻ hi-˨˦˧̀ːˋˣ˘̀ ˣˁ *CóC ˅ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨ˣ˥ˢ ˘ ˘ˋ˧˥ˆ༤˘˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˢ]

Table of Contents / ʓ˥ˊˋ˧ːˁˣ˘ˋ

Issue 2 / ʛʸ˜˞˰ 2 Articles / ʎ˞ʸ˞˰ˌ Fernando O. de Carvalho. On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’: Etymology and Implications for Internal Classification. . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

69

[ʗˀ˛˗ʸ˗ʿ˟ ʋ. ʿˀ ʂʸ˛ʻʸ˕˰˳. ʨ˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀ ˪ˋ˧ˋˣˁ (ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˥˙) ˥˨ˣ˥˅˻ ๑˧˥˪๏ ˋˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˅ˣ˫˪˧ˋˣˣˋ˙ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˘ ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅]

George Starostin. Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

87

[ɱ. ʎ. ʎ˞ʸ˛˙˜˞ˌ˗. ʌˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˦˥ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ I: ˜ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˣ˫˄˘˙˨˜˥-ˣˁ˧ˁ-˪ˁˢˁ ˆˋˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˥˄˹ˣ˥˨˪˘]

ʈ. ɵ. ɰʸ˜ˌ˕˰ˀʻ, ʈ. ʉ. ʎʸˀ˗ː˙. ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ .

. . . . . . . . . . .

114

. . . . . . . . . . . .

136

[Mikhail Vasilyev, Mikhail Saenko. How accurate can glottochronology be? Dating language divergence on the basis of Romance data.]

Reports / ʘ˛˙˗ˌːʸ XII ˪˧ˁˊ˘˴˘˥ˣˣ˻ˋ ˵˪ˋˣ˘̀ ˦ˁˢ̀˪˘ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ, ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ, ʒɴɴʘ, 23–24 ˢˁ˧˪ˁ 2017 ˆ˥ˊˁ (ɾ. ʈ. ɵʼ˙˛˙ʻ, ɭ. ʎ. ɯˀˊ˕ˀ˚ːˌ˗) . [Ilya Egorov, Alexander Bezlepkin. XII anual conference in memory of S. A. Starostin. Moscow, RSUH, March 23–24, 2017]

Book Reviews / ʍˀ˨ˀ˗ˊˌˌ BLANCA MARÍA PRÓSPER. The Indo-European Names of Central Hispania. A Study in Continental Celtic and Latin Word Formation, 2016 (Luka Repanšek) .

. . . . .

141

Contributors Ignasi-Xavier Adiego — professor, University of Barcelona, Spain, [email protected] Alexander Bezlepkin — M.A. student, Institute of Eastern Cultures and Antiquity, RSUH (Moscow); [email protected] Fernando O. de Carvalho — adjunct professor, Federal University of Amapá, Amapá State, Brazil, [email protected] José Virgilio García Trabazo — senior lecturer, University of Santiago de Compostela, Spain, [email protected] Ilya Egorov — M.A. student, Institute of Eastern Cultures and Antiquity, RSUH (Moscow); [email protected] Luka Repanšek — assistant professor, Department of Comparative and General Linguistics, Faculty of Arts, University of Ljubljana; [email protected] Elisabeth Rieken — professor, Philipp University of Marburg, Germany, [email protected] Mikhail Saenko — candidate of sciences (Philology), junior researcher, Institute of Slavic studies of the Russian Academy of Sciences, Moscow, [email protected]

Zsolt Simon — research associate, Institute of Assyriology and Hittite Studies, Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität München, Germany, [email protected] George Starostin — candidate of sciences (Philology), head of Department of the history and philology of the Far East, Institute of Eastern Cultures and Antiquity, RSUH (Moscow); head of the Laboratory of Oriental and Historical-Linguistic Studies, Russian Presidential Academy of National Economy and Public Administration, [email protected] Miguel Valério — collaborator, University of Barcelona, Spain, [email protected] Mikhail Vasilyev — researcher, Institute of Slavic studies of the Russian Academy of Sciences, Moscow, [email protected] Mariona Vernet — postdoctoral researcher, University of Barcelona, Spain, [email protected]

ʎʻˀʿˀ˗ˌ˴ ˙ʺ ʸʻ˞˙˛ʸ˦ ɭʿˌˀʼ˙, ɾʼ˗ʸˊˌ-ʞʸʺ˰ˀ˛ — ˦˧˥˱ˋ˨˨˥˧ ɲˁ˧˨ˋ༤˥ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ, [email protected] ɯˀˊ˕ˀ˚ːˌ˗, ɭ˕ˀː˜ʸ˗ʿ˛ ʎˀ˛ʼˀˀʻˌ˩ — ˢˁˆ˘˨˪˧ˁˣ˪ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ˁ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ), [email protected] ɰʸ˕ˀ˛ˌ˟, ʈˌʼˀ˕˰ — ˨˥˪˧˫ˊˣ˘˜ ɲˁ˧˨ˋ༤˥ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ, [email protected] ɰʸ˜ˌ˕˰ˀʻ, ʈˌ˦ʸˌ˕ ɵʻʼˀ˗˰ˀʻˌ˩ — ˣˁ˫˵. ˨˥˪˧˫ˊˣ˘˜ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ˁ ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ), [email protected] ɰˀ˛˗ˀ˞, ʈʸ˛ˌ˙˗ʸ — ˦˥˨˪ˊ˥˜˪˥˧ˁˣ˪ ɲˁ˧˨ˋ༤˥ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ, [email protected] ɱʸ˛˜ˌʸ ʐ˛ʸʻʸ˜˙, ʘ˙˜ˀ ɰˀ˛˦ˌ˕ˌ˙ — ˨˪ˁ˧˸˘˙ ˦˧ˋ˦˥ˊˁ˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ ʘˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ ʓˁˣ˪˼̀ˆ˥-ˊˋ-ʇ˥ˢ˦˥˨˪ˋ༤ˁ, [email protected] ɵʼ˙˛˙ʻ, ɾ˕˰˴ ʈˌ˦ʸˍ˕˙ʻˌ˩ — ˢˁˆ˘˨˪˧ˁˣ˪ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ˁ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ), [email protected] ʂʸ˛ʻʸ˕˰˳, ʗˀ˛˗ʸ˗ʿ˟ ʋ. ʿˀ — ˁˊ˺˿ˣ˜˪-˦˧˥˱ˋ˨˨˥˧ ʜˋˊˋ˧ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ ɯˢˁ˦˻ (ɲ˧ˁ˖˘༤˘̀), [email protected]

ʍˀ˚ʸ˗ˬˀː, ʇ˟ːʸ — ˊ˥˴ˋˣ˪ ˥˪ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˥˄˹ˋˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ˱ˁ˜˫༤˼˪ˋ˪ˁ ˘˨˜˫˨˨˪˅ ʌ˿˄༤̀ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ; [email protected] ʍˌːˀ˗, ʣ˕ˌˊʸʺˀ˞ — ˦˧˥˱ˋ˨˨˥˧ ʍˁ˧˄˫˧ˆ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ ˘ˢˋˣ˘ ʜ˘༤˘˦˦ˁ, [email protected] ʎʸˀ˗ː˙, ʈˌ˦ʸˌ˕ ʉˌː˙˕ʸˀʻˌ˩ — ˜ˁˣˊ. ˱˘༤˥༤. ˣˁ˫˜, ˢ༤. ˣˁ˫˵. ˨˥˪˧˫ˊˣ˘˜ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ˁ ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ), [email protected] ʎ˞ʸ˛˙˜˞ˌ˗, ɱˀ˙˛ʼˌˍ ʎˀ˛ʼˀˀʻˌ˩ — ˜ˁˣˊ. ˱˘༤˥༤. ˣˁ˫˜, ˖ˁ˅. ˜ˁ˱ˋˊ˧˥˙ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˘ ˘ ˱˘༤˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˊˁ༤˼ˣˋˆ˥ ˅˥˨˪˥˜ˁ ʃɳʇɯ ʒɴɴʘ, ˖ˁ˅. ʌˁ˄˥˧ˁ˪˥˧˘ˋ˙ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ˘ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʣɯɴʃ ʒɯʎʝ˘ɴʓ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ), [email protected] ʞˌ˖˙˗, ɹ˙˕˞ — ˣˁ˫˵. ˨˥˪˧˫ˊˣ˘˜ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ˁ ˁ˨˨˘˧˘˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˘ ˲ˋ˪˪˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ʍ˿ˣ˲ˋˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ ʌ˿ˊ˅˘ˆˁ-ʍˁ˜˨˘ˢ˘༤˘ˁˣˁ, [email protected]

Note for Contributors Journal of Language Relationship welcomes submissions from everyone specializing in comparative-historical linguistics and related disciplines, in the form of original articles as well as reviews of recent publications. All such submissions should be sent to the managing editor: G. Starostin Institute for Oriental and Classical Studies Russian State University for the Humanities 125267 Moscow, Russia Miusskaya Square, 6 E-mail: [email protected] Articles are published preferably in English or Russian, although publication of texts in other major European languages (French, German, etc.) is possible. Each article should be accompanied with an abstract (not exceeding 300 words) and keywords. For more detailed guidelines on article submission and editorial policies, please see our website at: http://www.jolr.ru or address the editorial staff directly at [email protected].

ɯ˟ʿ˟˭ˌ˖ ʸʻ˞˙˛ʸ˖ ɾ˫˧ˣˁ༤ ɰ˙˚˛˙˜˯ ˴ˊ˯ː˙ʻ˙ʼ˙ ˛˙ʿ˜˞ʻʸ ˦˧˘ˣ˘ˢˁˋ˪ ˖ˁ̀˅˜˘ ˣˁ ˦˫˄༤˘˜ˁ˴˘˿ ˥˧˘ˆ˘ˣˁ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˣˁ˫˵ˣ˻˲ ˨˪ˁ˪ˋ˙, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˧ˋ˴ˋˣ˖˘˙ ˥˪ ˅˨ˋ˲, ˜˪˥ ˨˦ˋ˴˘ˁ༤˘˖˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˥˄༤ˁ˨˪˘ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥-˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ˘ ˨ˢˋːˣ˻˲ ˊ˘˨˴˘˦༤˘ˣ. ʒ˫˜˥˦˘˨˘ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˅˻˨˻༤ˁ˪˼ ˣˋ˦˥˨˧ˋˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˖ˁˢˋ˨˪˘˪ˋ༤˿ ˆ༤ˁ˅ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˧ˋˊˁ˜˪˥˧ˁ ˦˥ ˁˊ˧ˋ˨˫: 125267 ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ ʍ˘˫˨˨˜ˁ̀ ˦༤˥˹ˁˊ˼, ˊ. 6 ʒ˥˨˨˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˆ˥˨˫ˊˁ˧˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˆ˫ˢˁˣ˘˪ˁ˧ˣ˻˙ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ɴ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ˫ E-mail: [email protected] ʑ˧ˋˊ˦˥˵˪˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘ ˦˫˄༤˘˜ˁ˴˘˘ — ˁˣˆ༤˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˘༤˘ ˧˫˨˨˜˘˙, ˲˥˪̀ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˦˫˄༤˘˜ˁ˴˘̀ ˨˪ˁ˪ˋ˙ ˣˁ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲ (˱˧ˁˣ˴˫˖˨˜˘˙, ˣˋˢˋ˴˜˘˙ ˘ ˪. ˦.). ʇ ˜ˁːˊ˥˙ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ˥˄̀˖ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˦˧˘˜༤ˁˊ˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˧ˋ˖˿ˢˋ (ˣˋ ˄˥༤ˋˋ 300 ˨༤˥˅) ˘ ˨˦˘˨˥˜ ˜༤˿˵ˋ˅˻˲ ˨༤˥˅. ʑ˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣˋˋ ˥ ˪˧ˋ˄˥˅ˁˣ˘̀˲ ˜ ˥˱˥˧ˢ༤ˋˣ˘˿ ˧˫˜˥˦˘˨˘, ˧ˋˊˁ˜˴˘˥ˣˣ˥˙ ˦˥༤˘˪˘˜ˋ ː˫˧ˣˁ༤ˁ ˘ ˪. ˦. ˅˻ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ˋ ˫˖ˣˁ˪˼ ˣˁ ˣˁ˸ˋˢ ˨ˁ˙˪ˋ ˦˥ ˁˊ˧ˋ˨˫: http://www.jolr.ru ˘༤˘ ːˋ ˣˋ˦˥˨˧ˋˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥, ˥˄˧ˁ˪˘˅˸˘˨˼ ˜ ˧ˋˊˁ˜˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˽༤ˋ˜˪˧˥ˣˣ˥˙ ˦˥˵˪ˋ ([email protected]).

x

Preface The present thematic issue of the journal is devoted to the Luwic languages of ancient Anatolia. It comprises the revised versions of a selection of talks delivered at the 3rd workshop “Luwic Dialects: Inheritance and Diffusion”, which was held at the University of Barcelona in March 2016. The editors are grateful to Professor Ignasi-Xavier Adiego, the convener of the workshop, for being open to collaboration with our journal and facilitating the process of collecting the papers for the thematic issue. The Luwic languages represent a subgroup of the Anatolian group, which comprises Luwian and its closest linguistic relatives, such as Lycian A, Lycian B, and Carian. All of them were spoken on the territory of the present-day Turkey and the adjacent parts of Syria. Their attestation spans the period from the 20th century BC, when the first Luwian loanwords appear in Old Assyrian texts, to the 3rd century AD, when the last Pisidian inscriptions were arguably produced. For a long period of time, the Luwic languages remained in the shadow of their more illustrious relative and neighbour, the Hittite language. This is due to the fact that their corpora are smaller and they are, on the whole, less understood. Even the best attested Luwian language cannot be regarded as fully deciphered. Until very recently, there even was no clarity that the Luwian texts preserved in the cuneiform and hieroglyphic scripts reflect one and the same language. But the situation gradually changes as it becomes increasingly clear that fragmentary as they are, the Luwic languages are essential for reconstructing the Proto-Anatolian state of affairs. The old problem of the IndoEuropean studies, which consisted in defining the relationship between Hittite and the rest of Indo-European, can be now reframed as comparing the reconstructions of the Core Indo-European and Proto-Anatolian families in order to define their respective archaisms and innovations vis-à-vis their common ancestor. But the work on reconstructing Core Indo-European spans now almost two hundred years, whereas serious attempts to reconstruct Proto-Anatolian date back to the late twentieth century. Few issues related to this reconstruction reached the state of a general consensus, or can be regarded as commonly known to the rest of the Indo-Europeanists. The reconstruction of Proto-Anatolian must in turn rely on solving specific historical and synchronic issues pertaining to the less known individual languages belonging to the Anatolian group, among them the Luwic languages. The contributions to the present volume serve this overall goal. The papers by Elisabeth Rieken and Mariona Vernet tackle the phonology and morphology of the Luwian language. Ignasi-Xavier Adiego and Zsolt Simon turn to Pisidian, arguably the least known member of the Luwic family. The contribution of Miguel Valério is devoted to assessing the possibilities of areal phonological interaction between the Luwic languages and the early forms of Greek, while José Virgilio García Trabazo offers a new lexical etymology involving the Luwic items. Hopefully, the publication of these materials will provide a new impetus to Luwic studies, a new burgeoning branch of Indo-European linguistics that could generate some fresh insights for the discipline as a whole. On behalf of the editors Ilya Yakubovich

ʌ˛ˀʿˌ˜ໞ˙ʻˌˀ ʎˁ˨˪˥̀˹˘˙ ˪ˋˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˅˻˦˫˨˜ ː˫˧ˣˁ༤ˁ ˦˥˨˅̀˹ˋˣ ˘˖˫˵ˋˣ˘˿ ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˙ ɯˣˁ˪˥༤˘˘. ɳ ˣˋˢ ˥˦˫˄༤˘˜˥˅ˁˣ˻ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˅ˋ˧˨˘˘ ˘˖˄˧ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˥˅, ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˣˁ ˪˧ˋ˪˼ˋˢ ˜˥༤༤˥˜˅˘˫ˢˋ «Luwic dialects: inheritance and diffusion», ˦˧˥˲˥ˊ˘˅˸ˋˢ ˅ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˋ ɲˁ˧˨ˋ༤˥ˣ˻ ˅ ˢˁ˧˪ˋ 2016 ˆ˥ˊˁ. ʒˋˊˁ˜˴˘˥ˣˣˁ̀ ˜˥༤༤ˋˆ˘̀ ˄༤ˁˆ˥ˊˁ˧ˣˁ ˦˧˥˱ˋ˨˨˥˧˫ ʃˆˣˁ˖˘-ʣˁ˄˼ˋ˧˫ ɯˊ˘ˋˆ˥ — ˥˧ˆˁˣ˘˖ˁ˪˥˧˫ ˜˥༤༤˥˜˅˘˫ˢˁ ˖ˁ ˆ˥˪˥˅ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˜ ˨˥˪˧˫ˊˣ˘˵ˋ˨˪˅˫ ˨ ˣˁ˸˘ˢ ː˫˧ˣˁ༤˥ˢ ˘ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼ ˅ ˨˄˥˧ˋ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤˥˅ ˊ༤̀ ˪ˋˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˅˻˦˫˨˜ˁ. ʌ˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˪ ˨˥˄˥˙ ˦˥ˊˆ˧˫˦˦˫ ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˥˙ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˥˄˹ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˅˜༤˿˵ˁ˿˹˫˿ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜ ˘ ˋˆ˥ ˄༤˘ːˁ˙˸˘˲ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˘˜˥˅, ˪ˁ˜˘˲ ˜ˁ˜ ༤˘˜˘˙˨˜˘˙ ɯ, ༤˘˜˘˙˨˜˘˙ ɲ ˘ ˜ˁ˧˘˙˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜˘. ʎˁ ˽˪˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲ ˆ˥˅˥˧˘༤˘ ˣˁ ˪ˋ˧˧˘˪˥˧˘˘ ˨ˋˆ˥ˊˣ̀˸ˣˋ˙ ʕ˫˧˴˘˘ ˘ ˦˧˘༤ˋˆˁ˿˹˘˲ ˵ˁ˨˪ˋ˙ ʓ˘˧˘˘. ʃ˲ ˦˘˨˼ˢˋˣˣˁ̀ ˱˘˜˨ˁ˴˘̀ ˥˲˅ˁ˪˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˦ˋ˧˘˥ˊ ˨ XX ˊ˥ ˣ. ˽., ˜˥ˆˊˁ ˦ˋ˧˅˻ˋ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘ˋ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˦˥̀˅༤̀˿˪˨̀ ˅ ˨˪ˁ˧˥ˁ˨˨˘˧˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˪ˋ˜˨˪ˁ˲, ˊ˥ III ˅. ˣ. ˽. — ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˙ ˊˁ˪˻ ˦˥˖ˊˣˋ˙˸˘˲ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˣˁˊ˦˘˨ˋ˙. xi

Preface / ʑ˧ˋˊ˘˨༤˥˅˘ˋ

ʎˁ ˦˧˥˪̀ːˋˣ˘˘ ˊ༤˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˦ˋ˧˘˥ˊˁ ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘ ˥˨˪ˁ˅ˁ༤˘˨˼ ˅ ˪ˋˣ˘ ˘˲ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˸˘˧˥˜˥ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˘˜ˁ ˘ ˨˥˨ˋˊˁ — ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ. ʑ˧˘˵˘ˣ˥˙ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˢˋˣ˼˸˘˙ ˥˄˺ˋˢ ˘˲ ˜˥˧˦˫˨˥˅ ˘ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˪ˋˢˣ˻˙ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧ ˪ˋ˜˨˪˥˅. ɸˁːˋ ˣˁ˘༤˫˵˸˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˖ˁ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣˣ˻˙ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜ ˣˋ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˨˵˘˪ˁ˪˼˨̀ ˦˥༤ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ ˊˋ˸˘˱˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˢ. ɸ˥ ˦˥˨༤ˋˊˣˋˆ˥ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˊˁːˋ ˥˨˪ˁ˅ˁ༤˥˨˼ ˣˋ̀˨ˣ˻ˢ, ˥˪˧ˁːˁ˿˪ ༤˘ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘ˋ ˪ˋ˜˨˪˻, ˖ˁ˦˘˨ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˅ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨˘ ˘ ˘ˋ˧˥ˆ༤˘˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˦˘˨˼ˢ˥ˢ, ˥ˊ˘ˣ ˘ ˪˥˪ ːˋ ̀˖˻˜. ʐˊˣˁ˜˥ ˊˁˣˣˁ̀ ˨˘˪˫ˁ˴˘̀ ˦˥˨˪ˋ˦ˋˣˣ˥ ˢˋˣ̀ˋ˪˨̀, ˦˥ ˢˋ˧ˋ ˪˥ˆ˥, ˜ˁ˜ ˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˘˪˨̀ ̀˨ˣ˥, ˵˪˥ ˣˋ˨ˢ˥˪˧̀ ˣˁ ˨˅˥˿ ˱˧ˁˆˢˋˣ˪ˁ˧ˣ˥˨˪˼, ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘ ˘ˆ˧ˁ˿˪ ˜༤˿˵ˋ˅˫˿ ˧˥༤˼ ˅ ˦˧ˁˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˥˙ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˘. ʓ˪ˁ˧ˁ̀ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢˁ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˘˨˪˘˜˘, ˦˥ˣ˘ˢˁ˅˸ˁ̀˨̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˢˋ˨˪ˁ ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˦˥ ˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘˿ ˜ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˼ˋ, ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˄˻˪˼ ˪ˋ˦ˋ˧˼ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˘˧˥˅ˁˣˁ ˜ˁ˜ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ «̀ˊˋ˧ˣ˥˙» ˦˧ˁ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˥˙ ˘ ˦˧ˁˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˥˙ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˙ ˨ ˴ˋ༤˼˿ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˘˲ ˁ˧˲ˁ˘˖ˢ˥˅ ˘ ˘ˣˣ˥˅ˁ˴˘˙ ˦˥ ˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘˿ ˜ ˥˄˹ˋˢ˫ ˦˧ˋˊ˜˫. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁ ˦˥ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˘ «̀ˊˋ˧ˣ˥ˆ˥» ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦˧ˁ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˦˧˥ˊ˥༤ːˁˋ˪˨̀ ˫ːˋ ˦˥˵˪˘ 200 ༤ˋ˪, ˪˥ˆˊˁ ˜ˁ˜ ˦ˋ˧˅˻ˋ ˨ˋ˧˼ˋ˖ˣ˻ˋ ˦˥˦˻˪˜˘ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˘ ˦˧ˁˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨˥˨˪˥̀ˣ˘̀ ˥˪ˣ˥˨̀˪˨̀ ˜ ˜˥ˣ˴˫ XX ˨˪˥༤ˋ˪˘̀. ʌ˘˸˼ ˣˋˢˣ˥ˆ˘ˋ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ˻ ˊˁˣˣ˥˙ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˘, ˣˁ˸༤˘ ˜˥ˣ˨ˋˣ˨˫˨ˣ˥ˋ ˧ˋ˸ˋˣ˘ˋ ˘༤˘ ̀˅༤̀˿˪˨̀ ˥˄˹ˋ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˊ༤̀ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˘˨˪˥˅ ˅ ˴ˋ༤˥ˢ. ʒˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘̀ ˦˧ˁˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨˥˨˪˥̀ˣ˘̀, ˅ ˨˅˥˿ ˥˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˼, ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘˪ ˥˪ ˧ˋ˸ˋˣ˘̀ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˨˘ˣ˲˧˥ˣˣ˻˲ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ ˢˁ༤˥˘˖˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˨˧ˋˊ˘ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˅ˁːˣ˥ˋ ˢˋ˨˪˥ ˖ˁˣ˘ˢˁ˿˪ ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘. ʍˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤˻ ˣˁ˨˪˥̀˹ˋˆ˥ ˪˥ˢˁ ˨༤˫ːˁ˪ ˽˪˥˙ ˥˄˹ˋ˙ ˴ˋ༤˘. ʓ˪ˁ˪˼˘ ʨ༤˘˖ˁ˄ˋ˪ ʒ˘˜ˋˣ ˘ ʍˁ˧˘˥ˣ˻ ɳˋ˧ˣˋ˪ ˦˥˨˅̀˹ˋˣ˻ ˱˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˘ ˢ˥˧˱˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ. ʃˆˣˁ˖˘-ʣˁ˄˼ˋ˧ ɯˊ˘ˋˆ˥ ˘ ɾ˥༤˪ ʣ˘ˢ˥ˣ ˥˄˧ˁ˹ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˜ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˁˢ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ, ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥ ˣˁ˘ˢˋˣˋˋ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˵༤ˋˣˁ ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻. ʒˁ˄˥˪ˁ ʍ˘ˆˋ༤̀ ɳˁ༤ˋ˧˘˫ ˖ˁ˪˧ˁˆ˘˅ˁˋ˪ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˻ ˁ˧ˋˁ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˜˥ˣ˪ˁ˜˪˥˅ ˣˁ ˫˧˥˅ˣˋ ˱˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘ ˘ ˧ˁˣˣ˘ˢ˘ ˱˥˧ˢˁˢ˘ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋˆ˧ˋ˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥, ˁ ʝ˥˨ˋ ɳˋ˧˲˘༤˘˥ ɴˁ˧˨˘ˁ ʕ˧ˁ˅ˁ˨˥ ˦˧ˋˊ༤ˁˆˁˋ˪ ˣ˥˅˻ˋ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˨ ˫˵ˋ˪˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˁ ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ʝ˥˵ˋ˪˨̀ ˣˁˊˋ̀˪˼˨̀, ˵˪˥ ˦˫˄༤˘˜ˁ˴˘̀ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤˥˅ ˊˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˜˥༤༤˥˜˅˘˫ˢˁ ˅ ʒ˥˨˨˘˘ ˦˥˨༤˫ː˘˪ ˊˋ༤˫ ༤˫˵˸ˋˆ˥ ˥˖ˣˁ˜˥ˢ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˧˥˨˨˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˫˵ˋˣ˻˲ ˨˥ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥-˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋˢ ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ — ˣ˥˅˥˙ ˄˻˨˪˧˥˧ˁ˖˅˘˅ˁ˿˹ˋ˙˨̀ ˅ˋ˪˅˼˿ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˘˨˪˘˜˘. ʐ˪ ˘ˢˋˣ˘ ˧ˋˊˁ˜˴˘˥ˣˣ˥˙ ˜˥༤༤ˋˆ˘˘ ɾ. ʎ. ʦː˟ʺ˙ʻˌ˩

xii

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego University of Barcelona; [email protected]

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2) In this article, the author offers an analysis of the longest Pisidian inscription Kesme 2 (S 2), recently published by Claude Brixhe and Mehmet Özsait. A segmentation of the scriptio continua is proposed by using a combinatory method. Some connections with the rest of Pisidian linguistic materials and also with other Luwic languages is suggested. However, the inscription continues to be a largely impenetrable text. Keywords: Pisidian, Luwic dialects, Anatolian, Indo-European, Greek Epigraphy, Asia Minor.

§ɍ1. Recently, Claude Brixhe and Mehmet Özsait have edited two Pisidian inscriptions from Asar Kale, a site on top of a hill very near Kesme (Brixhe-Özsait 2013). Kesme is around 30 km NE from Selge, and at a similar distance SE from Adada. The ancient name of Asar Kale is unknown, but according to Drew-Bear and also to the editors, it may be the ̦ΩήΦΜάά//Μ// (Zgusta KON §ɏ861-2 ̦ΩήΦΜάάΠβΧ Ј Οϰ÷ΩΫ) mentioned in an inscription found near Kesme. One of the two inscriptions (Kesme 1, now S 1 in Brixhe 2016) was already published by Brixhe and Drew-Bear, but that edition was “massacré par l’éditeur”, according to BrixheÖzsait (2013). A new edition is proposed of this four-line, 34-letter text. The other inscription, previously unpublished, is very impressive: it is a text of thirteen lines, complete, and thus constitutes the longest Pisidian text found to date (Kesme 2, now S 2)1. This inscription, together with the other one from Kesme–Asar Kale and two other inscriptions re-edited in the same paper from roughly the same geographical area (the middle course of the river Eurymedon), give us a very new impression of Pisidian. The rest of the Pisidian corpus comprises basically very brief texts from the territory of Tymbriada which contain only personal names. These inscriptions from the middle Eurymedon area, and in particular the longest inscription, offer a different kind of text, which undoubtedly contain a common vocabulary. As we will see, although we might expect to find elements that would confirm the hypothesis that Pisidian is a Luwic dialect — a hypothesis based exclusively on personal names and on the presence of a sigmatic genitive — this new material is practically impenetrable and raises considerable doubts about the exact position of Pisidian among Ancient Asia Minor languages. Kesme 2 is dated by the editors to the 2nd–3rd century A.D. In fact, this is the date they propose for all the corpus of Pisidian inscriptions (the four inscriptions edited in Brixhe-Özsait and the brief epitaphs from Tymbriada). The inscription is quite well preserved and Brixhe-Özsait’s edition and commentaries will serve as a good starting point. My aim in this brief paper is to try at least to segment the words (the text is in scriptio continua) to be able to recognize any recurrent elements and to suggest, in a very hypothetical way, some explanations for them. In this regard, I hope I will be able to go slightly further (though not much) than the editors. 1

For these two inscriptions see now also Brixhe (2016: 97–99).

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/1 (2017) • Pp. 1–18 • © The authors, 2017

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

In order to analyse the text, for convenience I will use a Latin transliteration of the Greek alphabet used for Pisidian. I recognize that this is not the usual practice: the tradition in Pisidian studies, as it is with neo-Phrygian inscriptions, is to keep the text in the Greek alphabet. But I think that typographically it will be clearer if I use Latin, particularly in order to deal with the two different digammas present in the text (see immediately below). My transliteration is conventional and should not offer problems. Note the following conventions: ΢ = Ř, β = ŷ, R is a variant of semicircular sigma, therefore = s. I do not transcribe the peculiar letter ] (a hapax which is difficult to interpret). Apart from this last letter, perhaps the most notable feature of this inscription is the coexistence of two digamma letters: the common form r and the Pamphylian form «. The latter form is clearly differentiated from m n, so it must be a different letter. For a discussion of their value, see infra. Conventionally, I will transliterate « as and r as . Here is Brixhe-Özsait’s edition:

§ɍ2. The inscription poses several graphical problems which we must address before proceeding any further: (1) the letter ] mentioned above: its value is not clear. Might it be a kind of z? Does it have a particular function? Might it be a variant of F? Brixhe-Özsait (2013) considers this latter possibility but dismisses it. The question remains obscure. (2) Some examples of o may be examples of Γ. This is a typical crux in Greek epigraphy (and also in late Carian!): the difference between the letter omicron and the letter theta with central dot is not always clear. In this inscription, the editors express their doubts about the following cases: line 3 oaiarpi / Γaiarpi?; line 7 ...oŖmeren / ΓŖmeren?; line 8 oan.../Γan...?. In an absolutely conventional way, I use to reflect the possibility that the letter might be Γ instead of o in the cases mentioned. (3) Also problematic are the possible confusions between R = s and W = e. This affects line 1: meklŵreg... / meklŵrsg... (But the editors clearly prefer meklŵreg..., for contextual reasons). Line 1 ...eid / sid (but also here the reading e is preferred). For the first example, I agree with the 2

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

editors: a cluster srg seems highly improbable to me (and also all the possible segmentations if we have to deal with two words: s##rg, sr##g). In the other case, both readings may be acceptable. For this reason, I use a conventional transliteration, parallel to : I transliterate this ambiguous e/s as . (4) At the beginnings of lines 11 and 13, the editors note the apparent traces of signs, but conclude that they are probably accidental marks. I accept this latter explanation and will ignore them. (5) I also accept other solutions suggested by the editors, such as the reading of p in the last line. (6) I also accept the presence of some ligatures, like of «-I = « + 2 = nŖ in lines 3, 5, 12 or 2-« as 2 + « + W = Ŗme in line 7 . (7) One cannot be entirely sure that there are no abbreviations in this text. If there are, this would seriously hamper our task of segmentation. I assume, as the only way to begin to analyse the text, that there are no abbreviations. §ɍ3. This is my transliteration: meklŷregoouarplioêid oadiamosotostomla gakawŘŷras -3 - ôaiarpi positipadostotŷko kawŘtotolaoiasoeiaswa rousitokvaroudati ](?)apaninoutieuôŘmeren ôanaeiswareiwatipado stokvaroudasoiadiaso kawŘwawoeiearrŘ -15- tokr (-?)ouswawoeieeidiwedapaeias wediarri -2- oueoresiearraia (-?)somlagaseokoplousoas

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

The only thing that is certain about this inscription is that it contains numbers. The editors clearly identify two numerical expressions: in line 3, -g- is the Greek number ‘3’; in line 12, -bis ‘2’. Brixhe-Özsait (2013) suggests that these numerals may accompany a personal name to express the second or the third person bearing the name, as is usual in Greek epigraphy. Apart from these two examples, there is another numerical expression: in line 10, I! seems to appear between two horizontal traits, as do the other two numerals (although we must admit that the horizontal trait at the ending of the expression is not clear). Taken as a numerical expression, I! makes sense as ‘fifteen’. The editors accept this only as a possibility, but I think that it is the simplest interpretation. If this interpretation is correct, in this case at least it is hard to accept that this numeral was used in the sense proposed by the authors: ‘15’ is very unlikely to have been used to refer to the repeated use of a name inside a family. §ɍ4. The presence of these numerals is, as I mentioned above, the sole evidence that we can obtain for sure from this obscure text. In what follows, I will try to offer a possible segmentation of the text. To carry out the segmentation, we have the following tools at our disposal:

3

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

1) The numerical expressions allow us to segment correctly before and after these marks. Unfortunately, this procedure offers very limited results, because only three numerical expressions are present; however, in combination with the other tools, it may become more useful. 2) Some elements are repeated along the course of the inscription. We can isolate them, at least in their initial part (the final part may present different endings, so the segmentation is less clear). 3) Inside the inscription we find many vowel clusters, some of them formed by four or even five or six vowels. It is logical to assume that they are the consequence of the meeting of two (or more?) different words, and so one can look for word boundaries inside them. However, as we will see below, this procedure is not without its difficulties. 4) The typology of syllabic structure can also help. This tool merits a further explanation. A simple look at the text suggests that Pisidian was characterized by a predominant presence of open syllables, i.e., syllables with a (C)V structure. Note, for instance, lines 4–5: positipadostotŷko kawŘtotolaoiasoeiaswa In these two lines the only consonant clusters are -st- and -sw-. The rest of syllables follow the structure (C)V. As we will see below, this predominance of open syllables, and consequently the fact that the position of syllable end (coda) is limited to a few consonants, is present throughout the text and can be taken as a trait of the language encoded here. §ɍ5. Thanks to the numerical expressions, we can recognize Ŗ i and s as possible word final sounds, and ô (recall!: o / Γ ?), t, o, as possible initial word sounds. Look at the corresponding lines: gakawŘŷras -3- ôaiarpi kawŘwawoeiearrŘ -15- tokr wediarri -2- oueoresiearraia s as a word final sound is also guaranteed by the last word of the inscription: (-?)somlagaseokoplousoas To these meagre results, we add that m can begin a word, as it appears at the very beginning of the text (meklŵrego…). §ɍ6. Some elements are clearly repeated. Assuming that Pisidian was basically a suffix-inflected language, these repeated elements serve to establish boundaries in their initial part. Note the possible segmentations based on this principle: meklŷregoouarplioêidoadiamosotosto mlaga kawŗŷras -3ôaiarpiposi tipadostotŷko kawŗtotolaoiasoeiaswarousito kvaroudati]apaninoutieuôŘmerenôanaeiswareiwa tipadosto 4

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

kvaroudasoiadiaso kawŗ wawoeie arrŘ -15tokrous wawoeieeidiwedapaeiaswedi arri -2oueoresie arraiaso mlagaseokoplousoas Nota bene: 1) In the case of tipadosto, as we will see below, it is possible that ti is (part of) a preceding word. 2) The segmentation of arrº may seem less sure, insofar as only three letters are implied. These first segmentations offer an interesting result: some repeated sequences appear in immediate contact, which allows us to segment a complete word. This is the case of mlaga kawŖ, or tipadosto kvarouda... or wawoeie arre, or kawŖ wawoeie. Accepting these segmentations, we can refine our analysis: meklŷregoouarplioêidoadiamosotosto mlaga kawŗ ŷras -3ôaiarpiposi tipadosto tŷko kawŗ totolaoiasoeiaswarousito kvaroudati]apaninoutieuôŘmerenôanaeiswareiwa tipadosto kvaroudasoiadiaso kawŗ wawoeie arrŘ -15tokrous wawoeie eidiwedapaeiaswedi arri -2oueoresie arraiaso mlagaseokoplousoas A first conclusion can be drawn from this initial attempt to isolate sequences: the sound immediately preceding each of these possible word initial sequences is systematically a vowel or (in two cases) an s: mlaga kawŗ

a Ř 5

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

ŷras -3ôaiarpiposi tipadosto tŷko kawŗ totolaoiasoeiaswarousito kvaroudati]apaninoutieuôŘmerenôanaeiswareiwa tipadosto kvaroudasoiadiaso kawŗ wawoeie arrŘ -15tokrous wawoeie eidiwedapaeiaswedi arri -2oueoresie arraiaso mlagaseokoplousoas

s i o o Ř o a o o Ř e Ř s e i i e o

This fact strengthens the impression mentioned above that this language favoured the existence of open syllables and drastically limited the presence of consonants at the end of a syllable and of a word. §ɍ7. A trait of this inscription is the presence of vowel clusters, some of them of a considerable length. In principle, they could be used for establishing word boundaries assuming that we are dealing with the meeting of final and initial vowels of different words. But things are not so simple in Pisidian. Firstly, we must keep in mind that two of the most frequent vowels in these clusters are ! and o which, in this inscription, can be easily misread instead of R and Q respectively. As we have seen, Brixhe-Özsait (2013) admits these ambiguous readings in one instance of W/R and in three instances of o/Q, but in my opinion it is not entirely clear that all the rest of examples of these letters are reliable readings. Secondly, the spelling practices in the age of this inscription favoured the use of clusters like o + vowel, oU + vowel, and O + vowel to represent /w+vowel/, as can be seen in the use of the Greek alphabet to reflect Anatolian proper names, or to write in Neo-Phrygian (see BrixheÖzsait 2013: 240); WI also represented i — as in the contemporary Greek — and intervocalic I could have represented a Pisidian /j/ sound. The use of o, oU to represent /w/ in our inscriptionɏ2 is rather puzzling, since we already have two different digamma letters («, r) to represent this or a similar sound. But it is not phonologically impossible that in this text there may be a triple contrast, like for instance /w/, /v/ and /Ν/. Note the particularity that there is no letter B in this inscription. These spelling practices and perhaps also the existence of internal vowel hiatuses may lead to the presence of such clusters inside words. This singularity of Pisidian was already observed by Ramsay, who portrayed it amusingly by saying that “The Pisidian Language seems to have delighted in vowels” (Ramsay 1883:74). Let us look at the vowel clusters in this inscription. In order to avoid excessive speculation I examine only the ones recognized by Brixhe-Özsait (2013) as ambiguous cases of e/s, o/Γ. 2

6

There are no instances of O before vowel in this inscription.

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

I present the examples with three or more vowels, and only with two vowels when the vowels involved are neither i nor u — i.e., when a hiatus is more probable. 1 2

ooua ioei (or: iosi)?

line 1 line 1

4 vowels 4 vowels (doubtful!)

3

oa

line 2

2 vowels

4

Řŷ

line 3

2 vowels

5 6 7 8 9

oaia (or: Σaia)?

line 3

4 vowels (doubtful!) (if not, 3 vowels: aia)

aoia

line 5

4 vowels

oeia

line 5

4 vowels

ieuoŘ (or: ieuΣŘ)? oa (or: Σa)?

line 7

5 vowels (doubtful!) (if not, 3 vowels: ieu)

line 8

2 vowels

10

aei

line 8

3 vowels

11

oia

line 9

3 vowels

12

oeiea

line 10

5 vowels

13

oeieei

line 11

6 vowels

14

aeia

line 11

4 vowels

15

oueo

line 12

4 vowels

16

iea

line 12

3 vowels

17

aia

line 12

3 vowels

18

eo

line 13

2 vowels

19

oa

line 13

2 vowels

The cluster n. 15 in line 12, oueo, is a good example of ‘delight in vowels’: here the cluster appears immediately after the numerical expression (2), and so we are dealing with the beginning of a word. Although behind oueo… there may be two words (ou, or even o could have been independent words in Pisidian), oue- is an acceptable initial sequence in Pisidian, as is shown by the divine name (or epithet) ̩ήΠΞΠΤΧΩΫ or ̩ήΠΞΠΤΧΜΫ (̦΢έΪϵ ̢ΠЬΧ ̩ЖΠΞΠΤΧи, in Tymbriada, SEG 55, 1447, 1448), the place name ̩ЖϒΪΝ΢ (Zgusta KON §ɏ972) and the personal name ̩ήΠΦΦ||ΩΫ|| (Zgusta KPN §ɏ1151–2). If in all these examples ΩήΠ represents /we/ or the like, /weo/ might be an acceptable word initial sequence even though it is not attested in the rest of the Pisidian documentation. Previous analysis based on the recurrence of sequences allows us to resolve some of these clusters, at least partially. This is the case of 4 (kawŖ ## ŵras), 12 (wawoeie ## arrŖ) and 13 (wawoeie ## eidiwedapeias...). In clusters 12 and 13 we still have a 4-vowel cluster at the end of the word (the same word: wawoeie) and the possibility of a further segmentation in two words (wawo ## eie, for instance) remains open. Other clusters will be analysed later, in combination with the more speculative attempt to recognize endings. §ɍ8. As for syllable structure, I have insisted repeatedly that this inscription seems to point to a high predominance of open syllables, and a clear limitation of sounds in syllable final and

7

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

consequently in word final positions. This statement can be ratified by the Pisidian inscriptions. A brief look at the subcorpus of brief epitaphs (see Adiego 2012) shows clearly that most of the syllables are open, and that practically only s and r can end a syllable or a word. The exceptions to this rule are some examples of geminations (for instance, eddi) and the letter ksi. It is not clear, however, that these clusters should be analysed as heterosyllabic. ksi could be a syllabic onset and dd may representing a sort of voiced stop (vs. the simple d representing possibly rather a fricative). Some examples of alternation -d-Ɏ/Ɏ-r-, i.e., rhotacism of -d- between vowels seems to point to a fricative articulation of this sound. Note that a similar rhotacism is present in neighbouring Pamphylian, where it is attributed to a substratum influence (see Brixhe 1976). Certainly, Pisidian onomastics in Greek sources offer a wider range of structures, but it is not clear that all these names, some of them found in contact zones with Phrygia, Lycaonia, etc., should be considered as strictly Pisidian. In any case, the tendency to present open syllables and to limit the type of consonants in syllable final position in Pisidian suggests that in sequences such as oadiamosotostomla (second line of the inscription), segmentations like oad ## iam ## osot ## om ## la are highly improbable. Of course, this syllable typology allows us to say how the words are not separated, but it is less useful in a positive way: the sequence mentioned admits a great many different possibilities of segmentation even if one gives priority to parsing all the syllables as open: oadi ## mosoto.... vs. oa ## dimo ##soto, etc. These probable restrictions on syllable finals, combined with the general principle of sonority sequencing in syllable structure, lead us to consider all the clusters of increasing sonority as tautosyllabic. These are the sequences involved and the lines where they appear: -kl-, -pl-

Ɍ1

-ml-

Ɍ2

-kv-

Ɍ6

-kv-

Ɍ9

-kr-

10

-ml-, -pl-

13

In the cases of -ml-, -kv- clusters, this analysis is consistent with the segmentation proposed above on the basis of repeated sequences, as they turn out to appear as possible wordinitial sequences. The rest of the sequences constitute negative evidence: they tell us where the words are not cut, but it is impossible to establish whether or not they coincide with the beginning of a word. The examples of clusters of decreasing sonority are dubious, for several reasons: (1) the only possible example of n + obstruent depends on the reading of the second letter: 7–8 -nô-, where a reading -nΓ- would make the sequence heterosyllabic. It is not clear to me whether n could really be a word final sound in Pisidian. There are no examples in the rest of the Pisidian inscriptions — although this may be a matter of chance, due to the scarcity of the corpus. Certainly, Pisidian onomastics in Greek sources show a few names ending in -n: personal names such as ̣÷ΜΧ, ̟Τ÷ΜΧ, ̤ΜΥΥΜΧ (KPN+Zgusta 1970), ̦ΜΧέΩήΧ, ̭ΜέΤΩΧ, and a subgroup of names inflected in -βΧ, -βΧΩΫ (̠ΩΝΜΦΤβΧ, ̢ήΝΪήβΧ [doubtful], ̤ΜΧΟβΧ, ̤ΠΪΤβΧ, ̬ΜΦ÷βΧ, ̬ΤΪΞβΧ, ̭Μ÷βΧ, [..]ΩήΦΤβΧ; and place names like ̤ΠάΝϒΟΤΩΧ, ̦ΩΪΟΤθΤΩΧ or ̰Ь÷Μ ̬ΜΥ΢ΧΩΧ. But the genuine Pisidian character of some of these names is highly questionable: ̣÷ΜΧ, ̟Τ÷ΜΧ is most probably a Phrygian name, given its frequent appearance in Phrygia; ̤ΜΥΥΜΧ appears in a boundary zone between Pisidia and Lycaonia; ̭ΜέΤΩΧ is a widespread female name attested only once in Pisidia; ̦ΜΧέΩήΧ is doubtful (it may simply be Greek: 8

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

see Zgusta KPN §ɏ868-1); the place names ̤ΠάΝϒΟΤΩΧ, ̦ΩΪΟΤθΤΩΧ and ̬ΜΥ΢ΧΩΧ are clearly adapted to the Greek inflection, an explanation that could also be envisaged for the curious subgroup of names inflected according to Greek -βΧ, -βΧΩΫ declination. Therefore, the possibility that the final -n was missing before the consonant, as happens in Pamphylian, ought to be taken into account; it would make a reading -nΓ- more unlikely. However, the reading Γ offers interesting results from the point of view of the interpretation of the sequence: see below §ɏ10. (2) the segmentation of the examples of s + stop (limited to st: lines 2, 4, 9) depends on whether Pisidian admitted syllable onsets such as st- sk-, sp-, sd-, sg, sb-, etc. which violate the sonority sequencing hierarchy but are present in many languages (for instance Latin, Greek or English). The rest of the Pisidian documentation shows very few examples of s + stop onsets: In indirect sources, only a personal name and a place name begin with άέ-: ̬έΜΧΜ÷ΩΜΫ (Zgusta 1970, §ɏ1472a) and ̬έΪΩή÷//Μ// respectively; and only a personal name begins with άΥ-: ̬ΥΪΜΤΩΫ. The variants ̬έΦϒΞΜ, ̟άέΦΠΞΜ of the name of the well- known Pisidian city Selge (̬ϒΦΞ΢) cannot be used as evidence for initial st- in Pisidian: as Brixhe rightly stated (Brixhe 1976:289); the original form must have been Selga/Salga or Slega/Slaga. The forms with ̬έΦϒΞΜ, ̟άέΦΠΞΜ, attested in coins, are the Pamphylian adaptation of the place name and έ is easily explained here as an epenthetic sound (*slega > stlega). Note that Pamphylian was the language spoken in Selge despite its Pisidian location. Consequently, this may be an exclusively Pamphylian treatment. In direct sources, the examples of st, sk, sp are also few and far between: — In Brixhe’s new corpus of Pisidian inscriptions (Brixhe 2016), the only example of initial st in an indigenous name is Staneis, Stanei in N 33, to be connected to the abovementioned personal name ̬έΜΧΜ÷ΩΜΫ. In N 34 st appears in a purely Greek name, Stephanos. ̧̛̦̩̮̩̬̭̩̣ (N 32) must be segmented Mouos (genitive) Toina (Brixhe 2016: 90). — There are no examples of sk sequences. — Of the seven examples of sp sequences, four appear in the same inscription (N 37) and must be separated into two different words since the p is the initial of the name Pigerdotaris. Other example of sp appears in a new inscription (N 45) where it is clearly a word-medial cluster: Ospouna. The only two possible examples of an initial sp cluster come from S 4: here a sequence spuadogwesi appears twice, which raises the possibility that this is in fact an initial cluster sp(3) The examples of sequences s + a voiced second element are equally scarce: there are no instances in the indirect sources, and the only possible examples in the direct ones are Nɍ10 ̧̛̩̮̣௚̛̜̜̩̮ and 32 ̛̛̪̪௚̛̝̥̥̩௚. For N 10, Brixhe (2016) proposes a convincing segmentation /Oua Nis Babou/, and in the case of N 32, it is difficult to decide between a parsing /Papa Sgallos/ or an alternative parsing /Papas Gallos/. A sequence ௚̞ in S 3 appears in an impenetrable context. (4) The clusters s + Pamphylian digamma (d« -sw-) in our inscription merit a chapter of their own. We find four examples (lines 5, 8, 11 and 11–12). If this represents a /sw/ sequence, there was no violation of sonority hierarchy, so that even if st, sp etc. clusters were not permitted in Pisidian, a /sw/ onset could be possible. In any case, the example in line 11 ouswawoeie... must be ruled out, as we have identified a sequence wawoeie that also appears in line 10. Two other examples coincide to offer a sequence swar: eiaswarousito and euôŖmerenôanaeiswareiwa... This leads Brixhe-Özsait (2013) to propose the isolation of a word beginning swarº. But as we will see below (§ɏ10), the options of segmenting s ## war… or sw ## ar here offer interesting results. 9

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

To sum up this discussion of clusters where s appears as the first element: the fact that -s can be a word-final sound, the fact that this ending could have a morphological value in Pisidian (we know at least from the rest of the documentation that it served to express the singular genitive of proper names) and the fact that sC onsets do not seem to have been frequent in that language, makes a segmentation s ## C in principle preferable, though by no means certain. Further analysis is needed to qualify this statement. §ɍ9. From here on, we enter a more speculative field. We must try to recognize some recurrent endings in order to identify other possible complete words. For this task, we will take into account the remarks on syllable structure and consonant clusters formulated above. §ɍ9.1. -to is a clear word ending. It emerges naturally from the current state of analysis, as it appears in the segmented sequences: meklŷregoouarplioêidoadiamosotosto mlaga ôaiarpiposi tipadosto tŷko eiaswarousito kvaroudati tipadosto kvaroudaso The other examples of to sequences as possible word endings are much less clear: in meklŷregoouarplioeidoadiamosotosto ## mlaga, a segmentation ...to ## sto seems unlikely in view of the doubts about the existence of st onsets in Pisidian. In kawŖ totolaoiasoeiaswa, a toto laoiasoeiaswa segmentation would be acceptable but is unverifiable. §ɍ9.2. Another possible ending is -so: it can be drawn from the segmentation of repeated elements in: kvaroudasoiadiaso kawŘ and in: arraiaso mlagaseokoplousoas The first example is particularly interesting. In kvaroudasoiadiaso it is tempting to segment in turn kvaroudaso iadiaso, showing two words in agreement. Other possible though less clear examples are: meklŷregoouarplioêidoadiamoso tosto ... totolaoiaso eiaswarousito §ɍ9.3. A third recurrent element that might constitute a morphological ending is ti. It may be recognized in: kvaroudati ]apaninouti euôoŘmerenoanaeiswareiwati padosto where three words may be in agreement: kvaroudati ]apaninouti euoŘmerenoanaeiswareiwati padosto 10

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

The first two examples seem quite likely. The third one is more doubtful: it clashes with the fact that tipadosto appears once more, which leads us to isolate a word tipadosto (see above): ôaiarpiposi tipadosto But it is also possible that a word ending in ti might precede a word padosto. I will assume that both options are possible and I will notate this possibility with a hyphen: ti-padosto. §ɍ9.4. -ie is another probable ending, which is obtained exclusively from the segmentation of repeated word beginnings and appears concentrated in lines 10–12 of the inscription: kawŘ wawoeie arrŘ -15tokrous wawoeie eidiwedapaeiaswedi arri -2oueoresie Note that the ending may be generically -e/-Ŗ, and would include as possible words in agreement kawŖ and arrŖ. §ɍ9.5. Incorporating the analysis of the preceding possible endings, we can go further with the following (very hypothetical!) segmentation: meklŷregoouarplioêidoadiamoso tosto mlaga kawŗ ŷras -3ôaiarpipositi-padosto tŷko kawŗ totolaoiaso eiaswarousito kvaroudati ]apaninouti euôŘmerenôanaeiswareiwati-padosto kvaroudaso iadiaso kawŗ wawoeie arrŘ -15tokrous wawoeie eidiwedapaeiaswedi arri -2oueoresie arraiaso mlagaseokoplousoas 11

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

§ɍ9.6. The segmentation in §ɏ9.5 begins to offer a series of possible individual words (or at least sequences comprising very short words): mlaga (2x), kawŖ (3x), ŵras, toko, tokrous, arri/are. In kvaroudati / kvaroudaso we recognize two clearly related forms, in terms of inflection or of derivation (see below §ɏ10). As possible inflected words in -so, -to we can recognize arraiso, (ti)padosto, iadiaso and the kvaroudaso just mentioned. Obviously, the remaining long chains must contain different words. I will propose some possible segmentations, but we are entering increasingly precarious terrain. Let us start with the very beginning of the inscription: meklŷregoouarplioêidoadiamoso We have already noted that a hiatus can be a clue for segmentation, but the “delight in vowels” of Pisidian advises caution. Here the first cluster ooua, with the repetition of o, suggests a segmentation meklŵrego ouarplioêidoadiamoso, where the initial may be a typical representation of /wa/. The rest of the vocalic hiatuses are less clear, but it is very tempting here to see three words ending in -o (and followed by a fourth one in -so): meklŷrego ouarplio êido adiamoso Here I will also use a hyphen to represent these very hypothetical segmentations: meklŷrego- ouarplio- êido- adiamoso The other longest chain is: euôŘmerenôanaeiswareiwati-padosto Here the doubts about the exact character of ô (= o?, Γ?) hinder the analysis even more. I will return to this question later. On -sw-, see immediately below euôŘmerenôanaeiswareiwati-padosto Other sequences remain which are shorter but very possibly contain more than one word: ôaiarpipositi padosto … totolaoiaso eiaswarousito … ]apaninouti … eidiwedapaeiaswedi … mlagaseokoplousoas For the first sequence (ôaiarpipositi or simply ôaiarpiposi), and for the second one (totalaoiaso) I cannot propose any solution. In the third and fifth sequence, we once again find a cluster -sw-, as in euôŖmerenôanaeiswareiwati-padosto. Here we are at an analytical crossroad: the three examples, compared one to one, offer two divergent solutions: 1) euôŖmerenôanaeiswareiwati-padosto and eiaswarousito favour the isolation of a beginning of a word swar2) but eiaswarousito and eidiwedapaeiaswedi share a sequence eiasw, to be segmented eias wº (eia ## swº seems less probable, but see below §ɏ10). 12

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

To this dilemma, we should add that the remaining example of a -sw- is tokrouswawoeie, in which the cluster has to be separated s ## w, given that wawoeie is a clearly isolated word. In order to reflect these different options, I use hyphens: euôŘmerenôanaei-s-wareiwati-padosto eia-s-warousito eidiwedapa-eia-s-wedi Further segmentations of the latter chain are complicated. We can envisage a segmentation eidi wedapa-eia-s-wedi and think of an agreement in -di. We can also speculate about the relationship between a wedapa-eia-s and wedi. eidi wedapa-eia-s wedi would be an interesting segmentation, but absolutely ad hoc. I prefer to leave the sequence without segmenting. In ]apaninouti, the first sign remains a mystery. ]apaninouti seems to be an inflected form of a stem ]apaninou- or apaninout-, parallel to kvaroudati: see below §ɏ10. It is impossible to say whether there are one or two words behind ]apaninouti. It may even be a compound noun (or name) ]apa+ninouti. The last sequence, mlagaseokoplousoas, begins with a word isolated as mlaga in lines 2–3. This would suggest a segmentation mlaga seokoplousoas, but it is also possible that here mlaga may represent another inflected form, and so mlagas eokoplousoas or mlagase okoplousoas (the latter supported by the presence of a hiatus) can be alternative solutions. I will represent these alternatives thus: mlaga-s-e-okoplousoas. §ɍ10. After this analysis, we attain the following (very hypothetical!) segmentation: meklŷrego-ouarplio-êido-adiamoso tosto mlaga kawŘ ŷras -3ôaiarpipositi padosto tŷko kawŘ totolaoiaso eia-s-warousito kvaroudati ]apaninouti euôŘmerenôanaei-s-wareiwati padosto kvaroudaso iadiaso kawŘ wawoeie arrŘ -15tokrous wawoeie eidi-wedapa-eia-s-wedi arri -2oueoresie arraiaso mlagas-e-okoplousoas 13

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

We now enter the most precarious terrain of all. How should we interpret all these possible words and endings? §ɍ10.1. The first step is to look for personal names. This is the sensible decision taken by BrixheÖzsait (2013). Unfortunately, this inscription, unlike the brief epitaphs from Tymbriada, does not offer at first glance any tangible form to be identified as a personal name. Consequently, the connections with Pisidian onomastics are tenuous. This may seem surprising, because in a text of this length we would expect at least some proper names (personal names, place names, god names, and so on). But it is also important to note that Pisidian onomastics was undoubtedly very varied: a good example is the corpus of Greek inscriptions from Termessos IV, which contained unpublished inscriptions with a considerable number of new personal names, many of them difficult to connect, even partially, with previously known names. This may explain why the results of Brixhe-Özsait (2013) in this terrain are both very limited and also difficult to improve upon. In fact, the connection suggested by these authors, that I take as convincing, depends on the reading of one of the disputed letters in the inscription: in line 8, ôanaeiswareiwatipado, with a reading for ô, offers a Γanaei... sequence that BrixheÖzsait try to connect with the name of the goddess Athena (Brixhe-Özsait: 243). As these authors point out, the aphaeresis would be comparable to that found in the name of Athena attested in Lycian, Sidetic and Pamphylian. Although the interpretation as ‘Athena’ looks very attractive (see below §ɏ10.4), it may in fact be a personal name based on the name of the goddess: Γanaei(s) can represent a Pisidian adaptation of the Greek female name ̴Σ΢ΧΜϿΫ or the Greek male name ̴ΣΧϛΜΤΩΫ. For this latter adaptation, cf. that in Pamphylian the nominative singular -ΤΫ, -ΠΤΫ /i:s/ from -*ΤΩΫ (Brixhe 1976: 100), so *̢θΧΜΠΤΫ could be the Pamphylian form of ̴ΣΧϛΜΤΩΫ and the basis for a Pisidian Γanaei (cf. also Pamphylian ̢ΜΧθΟβΪΩΫ = ̴Σ΢ΧθΟβΪΩΫ for aphaeresis and vocalism). Other reasonable connections proposed by Brixhe-Özsait (2013) are (1) ŵras, a possible genitive of a personal name ŵra- = ̲ΪΜΫ, ̩ήΪΩΫ < Luwic (and Hittite) ura- ‘great’ (but forms like Lycian Hura, where h probably < *s, complicate the dossier); and (2) ouarplio = Hittite warpalli- ‘fort, puissant’ and ̩ήΪÞΜΦΩΫ (or ̩ήΪÞΜΦΜΫ), an indigenous name attested in Phrygia (Zgusta KPN §ɏ1174). Further proposals seem to be more tenuous and remote (see Brixhe-Özsait 2013: 247–248 for all these proposals). In the following table I offer my own attempt to connect some sequences with Pisidian onomastics: meklŷregoouarplio-êido-

Cf. ̩ЖΜΪÞΠΤ÷ΤΩή (gen.) (LYC), apart from B.-Ö. connections

adiamoso

̛ÞΩ-΋ΎΓ-Κ, ̣ΟΜ-΋ΎΓ-Κ, ̤ΤΟΜά-΋ΎΓ-Κ (PIS)

tosto mlaga kawŘ ŷras -3ôaiarpipositi

̊ΙÞΓΜΫ (PIS) (< ar+ Anatolian pii‫ג‬a-)

padosto

̪ΜΟΜ-÷ΩήΪΤΫ / *̪ΜΪΜ÷ΩήΪΤΫ1

tŷko

14

kawŘ

cf. the Phrygian and Lycaonian place names ̤θΝΜΦΜ, ̤ΜήΜΦΜ and the Misian or Bithynian place name ̤Μήϛ

totolaoiaso

̭βέβΧ//Μ// ̭βέβΧ//ΤΜ, place name PIS

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

eia-s-warousito

̘ΝΙΘΝ-ΝΜΤΫ PIS (for the second element, cf. ̛ΦΩή-ÞΜΤΫ?? PIS) If swarou, cf. ̩άΝΜΪΜΫ PIS, ̩άΝΜΪΜ PIS

kvaroudati

̓Ό΋ΙΘΝ-΢Ϋ PAM

]apaninouti

̧ΤΧΩΫ PIS, ̧ΩήΣ||ΤΫ|| PIS

euôŘmeren ôanaei-s-wareiwati padosto

If Γanaeis = ̴Σ΢ΧΜϴΩΫ cf. supra. If swarei, cf. ̩άΝΜΪΜΫ, ̩άΝΜΪΜ ̪ΜΟΜ-÷ΩήΪΤΫ / *̪ΜΪΜ÷ΩήΪΤΫɏ1

kvaroudaso

̓Ό΋ΙΘΝ-΢Ϋ name of a woman PIS (cf. supra kvaroudati)

iadiaso

̒΋-ΡΠ÷ΤΫ (̦ΩΜ-Ρ΢÷ΤΫ), perhaps ̒΋+ ΋ΎΓ-Ϋ, cf. supra ̛ÞΩ-΋ΎΓ-Ϋ, etc.?

kawŘ

cf. supra

wawoeie

cf. supra

arrŘ -15tokrous wawoeie

cf. supra

eidi-wedapa-eia-swedi arri -2oueoresie arraiaso mlagas-eokoplousoas

1

̙ΕΘΝΛΤΧ÷΢Ϋ or ̙ΕΘΝΛΤΧ÷΢έΩΫ (IS), ̙ΕΘΝΫ (KAR); ̛Θ΋Ϋ (PIS) Pisidian names in -ΩΜΫ

̪ΜΪΜ÷ΩήΪΤΜΧΩΫ, ̪ΜΪΜ÷ΩήΪΤΜΧ΢. Cf. also ̪ΜΟΜ÷ΩήΪΤΜΧΩΫ, ̪ΜΟΜ÷ΩήΪΤΜΧ΢

These attempts at connections (all very tentative) do not necessarily imply that the sequences of the Pisidian text where they appear must be interpreted as proper names. Given that we are comparing stems rather than complete names, and as we cannot deduce from the context whether a proper name is being used, it is equally imaginable that these stems appear here as common lexical elements. Note, for instance, the form padosto (2x): the initial part can be compared with the first element of the name ̪ΜΟΜ-÷ΩήΪΤΫ, but it could be a word from the common lexicon (a verb? cf. infra) that shares the stem with a compound name. Incidentally, this is a good example of the difficulties of the comparison: besides ̪ΜΟΜ-÷ΩήΪΤΫ, there exists a variant ̪ΜΪΜ-÷ΩήΪΤΫ. It is tempting to see in this latter name a dental rhotacism, which is well attested in Pamphylian (Brixhe 1976). However, there is an alternative explanation that destroys any connection with our inscription: ̪ΜΟΜ-÷ΩήΪΤΫ may be a dissimilation from ̪ΜΪΜ-÷ΩήΪΤΫ, which would be the original formɏ3. Perhaps the most suggestive connection I am able to offer is the female name ̤ΝΜΪΩή΢Ϋ (Zgusta 1970, §ɏ563a, attested in Cotenna) which seems to be closely related to kvaroudati and kvaroudaso. The coincidence of the six initial letters is unlikely to be a matter of chance. But how can we explain this connection? Are kvaroudati and kvaroudaso two differently inflected forms of a personal name? As we will see below, this possibility is not without its problems. In any case, this connection is partial. The name ̤ΝΜΪΩή΢Ϋ does not appear tel quel in the inscription, and this is precisely the clearest conclusion of the search of onomastic material in 3 ̪ΜΪΜ- as a first element of compound names is well attested in Anatolian indigenous names, see Adiego 2007: 340 for Carian.

15

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

this long text: there are no examples of any known Pisidian proper names. I alluded above to this circumstance when I spoke of the lack of tangible onomastic identifications. §ɍ10.2. The search for forms other than proper nouns is even more complicated. Today, we do not know any common Pisidian words, insofar as the brief epitaphs from Tymbriada contain exclusively personal names and the other inscriptions from the middle course of the Eurymedon are as impenetrable as our text. The only way to continue the search is to look for possible connections with the rest of Anatolian Luwic dialects (particularly the best known, Luwian and Lycian), but lacking a clear idea of the specific traits of Pisidian with respect to the other Luwic dialects makes any proposal highly speculative. Brixhe-Özsait (2013) ingeniously suggest that the word kawe, repeated three times, may be related to Luwian hŊwi-, Lycian Πawa ‘sheep’. If Pisidian was close to Lycian, the connection would be valid, because, as is well known, Lycian ΰ represents a sound /k/. Recall also the Carian gloss ΥΩϼΩΧ· ÞΪІΝΜέΩΧ, in which ΥΩϼΩΧ may come from *ΥΩțΤ-ΩΧ = Luwian hŊwi-. If a reference to ‘sheep’ were present in the inscription, it would be tempting to see in wawoeie (or simply wawo), repeated twice, the Pisidian word for ‘cow’ corresponding to Lycian wawa ‘cow, bovine’. The presence of the two words — probably in a sacrificial context — recalls the appearance of Lycian Πawa- and wawa- side by side in inscription TL 149. It is also interesting that two instances of kawe and one instance of wawo(eie) occur in the proximity of numerical expressions (and the other instance of this latter word is not far away from another numerical expression): kawŗ ŷras -3… kawŗ wawoeie arrŘ -15- tokrous wawoeie eidi-wedapa-eia-s-wedi arri -2Unfortunately, no other indices in the inscription invite us to think that these meanings can be right. Another totally different track to follow would be to connect kawŖ with Lydian kave- ‘priest’ (also attested in Greek inscriptions from Sardis as a loanword ΥΜήΠΤΧ [acc.] ‘priestess’). §ɍ10.3. Another terrain for speculation is the interpretation of the possible endings. We have recognized three repeated final sequences that might represent morphological marks: -so, -to and -ti (I leave aside -eie, which is less clear to me): From a “Luwic” point of view, one might suggest linking them with possible “Luwic” morphemes: 1) 2) 3)

-to could be a 3rd sg (or plural?) preterite ending, related etymologically to Lycian -te, Carian -t, Luwian -ta < *-to -so could be a genitive singular ending = Lycian -he < *-so -ti could be (a) a 3rd sg (or plural?) present ending = Lycian, Luwian -ti or (b) a dative of a -t- or -nt-stem (Cf. Lycian Trqqñt-i, CLuwian dUTU-ti-(i) (*Tiwat-i)

(1) and (2), if right, would be mutually consistent, insofar as they would coincide in showing the conservation of final *o where Lycian changes it to *e and Luwian to *a. The possible verbs tosto and padosto 2x) may recall Lycian 3rd preterite iteratives in ºstte as astte, qastte, xistte. A particular problem is posed by the forms kvaroudati and kvaroudaso. If both represent a personal name with different inflections, it is not easy to conciliate them: kvaroudaso would be a genitive in -so (= Lycian -he), of a stem kvarouda-, but kvaroudati would rather be a dative of a 16

The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2)

dental or nt-stem (kvaroudat- or kvarouda(n)t-). If we do not accept a sort of heteroclitic inflection kvarouda-Ɏ/Ɏkvaourdat- (or kvaroudant-) we may begin to speculate: kvaroudati could be a verb corresponding to a noun (not necessarily a personal name) kvarouda-. But this sort of speculation is worthless unless we first establish a firmer analysis of the words. In any case, it is puzzling (though also suggestive) to observe that a stem alternation kvarouda-Ɏ/Ɍkvaroudat- recalls the élargissement in -t- of the vocalic stems of personal names in Greek, which was very commonly used in the incorporation of indigenous names (cf. in Pamphylian: Brixhe 1976: 104 ff.). So, in a Greek inscription from Pisidia, we could perfectly imagine a *̤ΝΜΪΩήΟΜέΤ as the dative of a personal name *̤ΝΜΪΩήΟΜΫ. The same feature can be observed in ]apaninouti. If it is a personal name, it would be analysed in a Greek context as a simple dative of a name in -ΩЛΫ, -ΩЛέΩΫ (cf. Brixhe 1976: 106). Cf. datives as ̛ѝάÞΩήΪΩήέΤ TAM III, 1 222 from a Pisidian name ̛άÞΩήΪΩήΫ (Zgusta KPN §ɏ118) or AΦΦΩήέΤ (KPN §ɏ52–2) from AΦΦΩήΫ. Can we conclude that this élargissement penetrated into (some forms of the nominal paradigm of) Pisidian? Given the late date of the inscription, the prolonged contact with Greek would support this hypothesis. §ɍ10.4. Finally, in an inscription of this length one might expect the presence of function words (pre- or postpositions, conjunctions, particles). I am afraid I am unable to offer any convincing suggestions. As a purely speculative exercise, I wonder whether the problematical sequence sw would be a copulative conjunction, etymologically equivalent to Carian sb, Milyan sebe ‘and’, in the following sequence: euôŘmeren ôanaei-s-wareiwati padosto Once again assuming ô = Γ, we can attempt the following segmentation: euôŘmeren Σanaei sw=areiwati padosto Where Γanaei and areiwati could be datives coordinated by a conjunction sw. If Γanaei represents /Σana-i/, then this might be the dative of the goddess name Athena. As for areiwati, we could analyse it as another dative of a dental stem /areiwat-/ or /areiwant-/, which would probably be another theonym. Completing this highly speculative analysis, we might see an accusative in euôŖmeren and a transitive verb in padosto (cf. supra our analysis as a possible preterite). If padosto had something to do with Lycian pddӼ ‘place’, it would be tempting to translate the entire sentence as “((s)he) placed the euôŖmere- for Athena and Areiwa(n)t-. The word euôŖmere- remains obscure. If ô must be read Σ here, one might think of a Greek loanword (euΓŖmere-), but I cannot suggest direct connections to the Greek lexiconɏ4. This analysis would imply that sw functions as a proclitic particle, in a way similar to Carian sb. Compare the Pisidian example with Carian: Γanaei sw=areiwati šarnajs || sb=taqbos (E.xx 6) paraeym : sb=polo (E.Me 8) This analysis may appear convincing at first glance, but I stress that it is only a possibility; we have no grounds for favouring it over alternative interpretations, such as the proposed analysis of Γanaeis as a genitive of a personal name. 4 The closest form I can give is the adjective ΜЖΣϚ÷ΠΪΩΫ ‘made or done on the very day’ and the corresponding adverb ΜЖΣ΢÷ΠΪЅΧ ‘on the very day, on the same day, immediately’.

17

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego

§ɍ11. In a paper published in the Actas del IV Coloquio de lenguas y culturas paleohispánicas, and entitled “Gramática de los plomos ibéricos” my maestro Jürgen Untermann concluded his attempt to segment and analyse the long Iberian texts on lead with the following words: “I beg the readers to forget as soon as possible all my hypotheses regarding the meanings of the Iberian words or morphemes. These suggestions are completely subjective and provisional, and they should not restrain the imagination of researchers in their interest to penetrate the secrets that the Iberian leads preserve. Moreover, the author of these lines is always ready to abandon his own hypotheses when new interpretations or new findings reveal them to be unfounded. In my opinion, the indispensable basis of all studies of this kind is the careful segmentation of the texts, and my aim was to draw attention to some pathways along which we can progress in order to accomplish a task that is still very far from having attained satisfactory results” (Untermann 1985–86: 51). Simply replacing ‘Iberian’ by ‘Pisidian’, I can think of no better way to conclude my own paper.

References Adiego, I.-X. 2012. Minima Pisidica: nota sobre la estructura de una inscripción pisidia de Timbriada. In: V. Orioles (ed.). Per Roberto Gusmani. Linguistica storica e teorica. Studi in ricordo, 2/1: 17–26. Udine: Forum. Brixhe, C. 1976. Le dialecte grec de Pamphylie. Documents et grammaire. Paris: Adiren Maisonneuve. Brixhe, C. 2016. Stèles et langue de Pisidie. Nancy : A.D.R.A. Brixhe, C. — Özsait, M. 2013. Cours moyen de l’Eurymédon: apparition du pisidien. In: H. Bru, G. Labarre (ed.), L’Anatolie des peuples, des cités et des cultures (IIe millénaire av. J.-C. — Ve siècle ap. J.-C.): 231–250. Besançon: Presses Universitaires de Franche-Comté. Ramsay W. M. 1883. Notes and inscriptions from Asia Minor. Mittheilungen des Deutschen Archäologischen Institutes in Athen 8: 71–78. Untermann, J. 1985–86. La gramática de los plomos ibéricos. Actas del IV Coloquio sobre lenguas y culturas paleohispánicas = Veleia 2–3: 35–56. Zgusta KON = ZGUSTA, L. 1984. Kleinasiatische Ortsnamen. Heidelberg: Carl Winter. Zgusta KPN = ZGUSTA L. 1964. Kleinasiatiasche Personennamen. Prag: Verlag der tschechoslowakischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Zgusta, L. 1970. Neue Beiträge zur kleinasiatischen Anthroponymie. Prag: Academia.

ɾʼ˗ʸˊˌ-ʞʸʺ˰ˀ˛ ɭʿˌˀʼ˙. ʓˁˢˁ̀ ˦˧˥˨˪˧ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜ˁ̀ ˣˁˊ˦˘˨˼ (Kesme 2) ɳ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ˁ˅˪˥˧ ˊˁˋ˪ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ ˨ˁˢ˥˙ ˦˧˥˨˪˧ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˥˙ ˣˁˊ˦˘˨˘ Kesme 2, ˣˋˊˁ˅ˣ˥ ˥˦˫˄༤˘˜˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˙ ʇ༤˥ˊ˥ˢ ɲ˧˘˜˨˥ˢ ˘ ʍˋ˲ˢˋ˪˥ˢ ʐ˖˨ˁ˘˪˥ˢ. ʑ˧ˋˊ༤ˁˆˁˋ˪˨̀ ˵༤ˋˣˋˣ˘ˋ scriptio continua ˦˧˘ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˘ ˜˥ˢ˄˘ˣˁ˪˥˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁ. ʑ˧˥˨༤ˋː˘˅ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˨˅̀˖˘ ˨ ˦˧˥˵˘ˢ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˘ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤˥ˢ, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˨ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘ˢ˘ ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘, ˥ˊˣˁ˜˥ ˣˁˊ˦˘˨˼ ˦˥-˦˧ˋːˣˋˢ˫ ˥˨˪ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˴ˋ༤˥ˢ ˣˋˊ˥˨˪˫˦ˣ˻ˢ ˪ˋ˜˨˪˥ˢ. ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˘˙, ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˊ˘ˁ༤ˋ˜˪˻, ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘, ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘, ˆ˧ˋ˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˽˦˘ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˜ˁ, ʍˁ༤ˁ̀ ɯ˖˘̀

18

Elisabeth Rieken Philipp University of Marburg; [email protected]

Word-internal plene spelling with and in Cuneiform Luwian texts Melchert's hypothesis that the cuneiform “orthography” of Hittite was transferred to Cuneiform Luwian by the Hittite scribes was tested with regard to the plene spelling with . With our improved knowledge of the historical grammar of Luwian, it could be confirmed. Several cases of plene found a new explanation. In addition, the restricted use of plene was described by a limited set of clear rules. Keywords: plene spelling, Luwian phonology, Luw. zila

1. Within the syllabic writing systems of Cuneiform scripts, such as Hittite, the syllabograms include signs representing a single vowel (V), combinations of consonant and vowel (CV, VC), and sequences of consonant — vowel — consonant (CVC). Plene spelling is defined as the extra use of an additional unitary vowel sign (V) that either precedes or follows an identical vowel. Thus, in word-internal position, plene spelling follows the patterns of CV1-V1-V1C and CV1-V1-CV as opposed to the non-plene spellings of CV1-V1C and CV1-CV, respectively. In the case of sequences of two vowels, we find plene spellings such as CV2-V1-V1C, CV2-V2-V1C and CV2-V2-V1V1C vs. non-plene CV2-V1C (or Ci-ya-aC / Cu-wa-aC containing the unified signs or ). There are five unitary vowel signs available in the Mesopotamian cuneiform script as adapted for the Anatolian languages: , , , and . This article will focus on the function of the plene spelling with the vowel signs and in word-internal position in Luwian texts transmitted in the cuneiform script.ɏ1 While little attention has been paid to the distribution and function of plene spelling in Luwian, the same phenomenon has been frequently discussed in Hittite scholarship. The results of these studies may very well be important for Luwian also because, following Melchert (1994: 27; cf. also Kloekhorst 2008a: 118), „[t]he documents we have in Hittite, Palaic and Cuneiform Luvian were written by the same scribes working in the same tradition. … without counterevidence we may and should assume that the principles of orthography are the same for all three languages ...“

Previous assumptions about the function of plene spelling in Hittite are listed in full detail in Kloekhorst 2014: 13–18. According to these, plene spelling is used for — marking primary and secondary vowel length under the accent (Hrozný 1917: XII; criticized by Götze 1928: 186 fn. 1; Friedrich 1931: 20; Sturtevant & Hahn 1951: 23), In the course of the work on the “Digitales philologisch-etymologisches Wörterbuch der altanatolischen Kleinkorpussprachen (eDiAna)” funded by the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (DFG, project RI-1730/7), the topic was brought up by David Sasseville; Miriam Pflugmacher collected the data for i-mutation plene spellings; Zsolt Simon supplemented the data writing first drafts on several lexical items for eDiAna. I am also grateful to an anonymous reviewer who made valuable recommendations. Naturally, all remaining errors are mine. 1

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/1 (2017) • Pp. 19–30 • © The authors, 2017

Elisabeth Rieken

— marking a glottal stop (Sturtevant 1933: 61–63), — the disambiguation of Ce/i or e/iC signs with an overgeneralized use in unambiguous cases (Sturtevant 1933: 62f.; followed by Otten & Souőek 1969: 44), — avoidance of a word consisting of one sign only (except nu, šu and ta) (Sturtevant 1933: 64; followed by Otten & Souőek 1969: 49 and generalized for final plene writing in 3-sign words), — the disambiguation by marking non-dead vowels, the script being on the path to the alphabetic principle (Kronasser 1956: 35 following Pedersen 1938: 5), — the differentiation of vowel quality in the case of plene (Rosenkranz 1959a: 424), — vowel length and disambiguation of ambiguous e/i signs (Oettinger 1979: passim), — marking a secondary effect of the accent on vowel length (Hart 1980: 14f.), — marking accent (Carruba 1981), — vowel length including secondary vowel length under the accent, by vowel contraction and compensatory lengthening; also for disambiguation (Georgiev 1983), — vowel length including secondary vowel length under accent, by vowel contraction and compensatory lengthening (Kimball 1983), but not for disambiguation (Kimball 1983: 7–9), — vowel length, accent, and disambiguation (Melchert 1984: 83f.), — marking an initial glottal stop or laryngeal, vowel length in most cases, accent, disambiguation (Weitenberg 1984: 347–350), — vowel length in most cases, due to accent, but not all accented vowels are lengthened (Melchert 1992), — only vowel length in most cases (Melchert 1994: 27 and passim), — for differentiation of and in the case of (Kimball 1999: 54–64, 67f.), — marking an initial glottal stop, reflex of an inherited *h1 (Kloekhorst 2006; Kloekhorst 2008: 32; Simon 2013: 12–16 referring to Simon 2010; Kloekhorst 2014: 161–170, 330– 341, 434–440, 504–508, 529–533; rejected in Weeden 2011: 66f.), — vowel length due to accent in most cases and the differentiation of vowel quality /o/ and /u/ in the case of plene and (Rieken 2005 based on Held & Schmalstieg 1969: 105–109, Eichner 1980, and Hart 1983: 124–132; cf. also Kloekhorst 2008: 35–60; Kloekhorst 2014: 491–539).ɏ2 It is fair to say that the view of plene spelling as a marker of vowel length and, in the case and , as a marker of vowel quality, has gained most supporters and it has also been transferred to Luwian by Melchert (1994: 27 and 2010). However, the latter assumption is not as straightforward as it may seem at first sight. Hittite and Luwian are known to have diverse vowel systems, the main distinction being the lack of /e/ and /Ř/ in Luwian. Apart from this phonemic difference, we cannot be sure whether or not the phonetic realization of the respective vowels was close enough between the two languages not to cause any insecurity in the perception of the foreign phonemes and their spelling (cf., e. g., the American English pronunciation of Italian pizza with long /Ť/ in spite of the existence of /ţ/ in English, due to the realization of Italian /ţ/ as a vowel higher than English /ţ/ and identification as the long, tense /Ť/). In addition, it is a well-known fact that scribes often attempt to spell more accurately when using a foreign language. This may result in the hypercorrect use of extra vowel signs and, as a consequence, as “apparent” plene spellings, so to speak. 2

20

Plene spelling is assumed to have no function at all by Pedersen (1938: 5, 34, 194) and Kammenhuber (1969: 175).

Word-internal plene spelling with and in Cuneiform Luwian texts

2. If plene is really a marker of vowel length in Luwian cuneiform texts, the sources of long Ţ are of prime importance to the question. According to Melchert (1994: 240f.), Luwian wordinternal long Ţ arises from accented short *š in open syllables, from accented long *Ţ, which in turn may be the outcome of *i through compensatory lengthening, of a rising i-diphthong by monophthongization, and of inherited long *‫( ڛ‬in contrast with Ŋ < *eh1). While most of this is uncontroversial, the view that inherited long *‫ ڛ‬resulted in ‫ ܚ‬was challenged by Hajnal (1995: 61–64). He tried to show that *‫ ڛ‬and *eh1 merged into ؈ in Luwian. Surprisingly, the question is relevant only for three of the words treated here (ni-i-iš ‘not’, ‫ܔ‬i-i-ru-ú-un ‘oath’ and ki-i-ša-amma ‘combed’). In addition to the sources of long Ţ just mentioned, a development of disyllabic -iya- > -Ţ- still observable in the texts seems to be generally accepted (e. g. Plöchl 2003: 20; Melchert 2004: 474; Bauer 2014: 30f.). As a consequence, plene may have multiple sources. In each single case, this source is to be determined. If, with our improved knowledge of Luwian phonology and lexicon, we arrive at a coherent picture for all its attestations within the corpus, Melchert’s hypothesis of plene as marker of vowel length can be regarded as confirmed. 3.1. The abstract suffix -tŢl- in Luw. pu-u-wa-ti-i-il ‘past’ is long known to be the equivalent of Hitt. -zzŢl- (Melchert 1994: 119f. with references). Hitt. -zzŢl- goes back to the composite suffix *-tí-lo- from abstract *-ti- plus adjectival *-lo- with apocope of the final syllable. The position of the accent of the Hittite derivative can be determined by both the plene spelling in -zzŢl- and the apocope (cf. Melchert 2001 and Rieken 2008: 246–9). It stands to reason to assume the same for Luwian -tŢl-. Accordingly, -ti-i-il is a case of lengthening an originally short accented *í in open syllable parallel to its Hittite equivalent. Based on the root connection proposed by Ivanov (2002), a back projection *bhweh2-tí-lo- ‘(entity) belonging to being’ seems plausible. The same sound change can be assumed for cases of reduplication. In general, verbal reduplication syllables were accented, in Hittite (see Dempsey 2015: 333–41). They were lengthened in open syllables and spelled plene (Melchert 1994: 131). The same seems to apply for Luwian. Cases of verbal reduplication syllables with plene are the 2nd sg. imp. ti-i-ta ‘?’ and the 3rd pl. imp. li-i-la-an-du ‘let them pacify’. The meaning and etymology of the former are not known, but since the 1st sg. prt. ti-ta-a‫ܔ‬-‫[ܔ‬a] of the same verb is proof of a stem tita-, the forms lend themselves to such an analysis. The latter is related to the noun lŢla-/lŖla-/lila- ‘conciliation, pacification’ attested in Hittite texts (Melchert 1993: 127). This, in turn, is interpreted as a reduplicated thematic noun derived from the verb lŊ-/l- (root *leh1- ‘loosen, release, remove; cf. Kloekhorst 2008: 523f.; Puhvel, HED 5: 77; Tischler, HEG L/M: 56f.). Since inherited *lí-lh1-owould be reflected by **lŢlla- with assimilation of the laryngeal (Melchert 1994: 79–81), both verbal lŢla- and nominal lŢla-/lŖla-/lila- must be regarded as a late formations. The frequent forms with e in the reduplication syllable either reflect the original Hittite formation (*lé-loh1- > l‫ڛ‬-la-) or are just another example of the “Hittitization” of a Luwian loanword by means of a hypercorrect replacement of i with e in New Hittite, as suggested by Yakubovich (2010: 326– 333; differently Kloekhorst 2008: 524). Luw. ti-i-ta-ni dat./loc. sg. ‘breast, teat’ follows the same pattern, being related to the participle titaimma/i- ‘suckling’ (differently Kloekhorst 2008: 875–7). Although there is no Old Script attestation of its Hittite cognate tŖta(n)-, the almost consistent spelling with and implies that the reduplication vowel e is original, different from the Luwian reduplicant with i. Thus, Hitt. tŖta(n)- and Luw. tŢta(n)- are parallel formations built according to the rules of their respective languages, with different reduplication vowels, which, however, had been lengthened under the accent in the Proto-Anatolian period in either case. The extension with an nsuffix is surely another late development common to both words due to contact. 21

Elisabeth Rieken

3.2. The negation ni-i-iš can be derived from either *nŖ+ (cf. Dunkel 2014: II 536, *né eh1) or *nei+ (cf. Dunkel 2014: II 537f., *né íh1) depending on what one accepts as the reflex of *‫ ڛ‬in Luwian. Neither account would be problematic for the assumption that plene represents a synchronic long vowel Ţ. A better example of *‫ܚ > ڛ‬, spelled with plene , is nom./acc. ‫ܔ‬i-i-ru-ú-un, obl. ‫ܔ‬i-i-ru-ú-t° (contra Hajnal 1995: 61–64; see above section 2). Following Watkins (1993: 469–73), the word goes back to *h2‫ڛ‬r-u- with accented vਾddhi grade, enlarged by a suffix *-t-, and can be compared to Gk. λΪη ‘prayer, imprecation, curse’ < *ar-w-؈ < *h2eru-éh2. According to Eichner’s Law, long *‫ ڛ‬in *h2‫ڛ‬r-u- was not colored in spite of neighboring *h2, but developed into Ţ in Luwian (Melchert 2004: 471 fn. 1). 3.3. Long Ţ in Luw. kŢšamma/i- ‘combed’ is unexpected from the diachronic point of view. This verb shows consistently a participle ki-(i-)ša-am-m° in all of its three attestations, which would fit a root stem as well as a stem in -a-/-ai-(di). The plene spelling in the root with occurs both in Luwian context (twice) and in the Luwian loanword in Hittite kŢša(e)-. Since it should be the suffix syllable of kŢša(e)- that carries the stress, long Ţ must originate in Luwian ki-(i-)š°. Melchert (1994: 152) assumes for the Luwian word a denominative formation kŢš-a-/-ai-(di) based on a noun *kŢš-a- with lengthened grade. This would require a derivational chain such as PIE root *kes- ‘to comb’ ਘ *kés-o- ‘comb’ ਘ *kŖs-ó- ‘belonging to the comb, (subst.) comb teeth’ ਘ *kŖs-eh2ye/o- ‘to treat with comb teeth, to comb’, which is not impossible, but a more economical hypothesis would be preferable. Kloekhorst (2008: 482) operates for Hittite with an ablauting stem *kés-ti/ks-énti, which would give *készi/kՓs-ánzi and with paradigmatic leveling lead to the attested stem kiš-. However, this does not work for Luwian. A slight change of this scenario is necessary. Following Ilya Yakubovich (pers. comm.), we may assume paradigmatic leveling of the root verb *kés-ti/ks-énti at an early stage resulting in PAnat. *kés-ti/kes-énti and, by sound change, in PAnat. *kés-ti/kis-énti. While, in Hittite, only the vowel i of the weak stem was extended to the strong stem (ਘ kís-tsi/kisántsi ), in Luwian, the root accent of the strong stem of *kás-ti/kis-ánti also spread to the plural giving *kásti/kísanti. After the Luwian lengthening of vowels in open syllables (Melchert 1994: 76, 132) had taken place, the plural stem k‫ܚ‬s- replaced *k؈s- in the singular. Then, Luw. k‫ܚ‬s- functioned also as the base for the Hittite loanword kŢša(e)-. Thus, Luw. kŢšamma/i- ‘combed’ is perfectly in line with the working hypothesis of this article, but, pace Melchert (1994: 152), is not a case of *‫ܚ > ڛ‬. An analogous explanation applies to the spelling [(UZU‫ܔ‬a!-ap-p)]í-i-ša-a-ti, which is attested alongside eight cases without plene spelling. For its Hittite equivalent ‫ܔ‬appeššar, ‫ܔ‬appešn-, Melchert (2013) starts from a paradigm with mobile accent: nom./acc. *h2ép-s with oblique stem *h2ep-s-n-´. In addition to other uncontroversial phonological changes, *h2ép-s receives an anaptyctic vowel i (*‫ܔ‬áppis-) after the accented syllable in the strong stem. In the weak stem, however, the anaptyctic vowel was inserted before the accented syllable. It then seems to have attracted the accent and developed into é in ‫ܔ‬appés-n-; cf. Hitt. teri-, Luw. tarri- (according to Āop’s Law; cf. Āop 1970) < CAnat. *téri- < PIE *tri-. This is followed by paradigmatic leveling resulting in the attested Hittite paradigm ‫ܔ‬appešš+ar, ‫ܔ‬appeš-n-. In Luwian, the equivalent phonological developments would produce a paradigm nom./acc. ‫ܔ‬áppis, obl. *‫ܔ‬appáss-, which with paradigmatic leveling could give the stem *‫ܔ‬appís- for all case forms.ɏ3 Finally, anaptyctic i was lengthened under the accent (‫ܔ‬app‫ܚ‬s- as attested). Apart from the analogy of the Hittite 3 The plene spelling of the abl./instr. ending goes back to the contraction of ó-o in *-óyodi < *-óyoti (Rieken 2005) and is generalized throughout all stem classes independent of any secondary accent position.

22

Word-internal plene spelling with and in Cuneiform Luwian texts

development, confirmation of the proposed historical derivation comes from the fact that the root syllable never shows plene spelling. 3.4. The denominative suffix -Ţ-(di) < *-Ŗ- < *-eé- < *-e-yé- (pl. -ai- < *-e-yó-; with inherited accented suffix *-yé/ó-) is found in the 1st sg. prt. la-‫ܔ‬u-ni-i-‫ܔ‬a ‘washed’ (ਙ inf. *lŊ‫ܔ‬una according to Melchert 1993: 120). A similar explanation probably applies to ]x-i-ta-an?-al-li-i-ti, a 3rd sg. prs. of a denominative verb from a noun in -alla/i- (David Sasseville, pers. comm.), and to the 3rd sg. imp. ar-za-zi-i-du with its variant ar-š[(a-zi-i-du)] because of the complexity of its base. In contrast, tarši-i-ta ‘dried?’ contains the homophonous causative-iterative suffix *-eye/o- (David Sasseville, pers. comm.). Other possible examples of these stem suffixes, either denominatives or causativeiteratives, are the 3rd sg. prt. wa-ri-i-ta ‘?’, attested in broken context, and 3rd sg. prt. at-ti-i-da ‘?’. 3.5. The Luwian adverbs ku-wa-ti-i-in ‘as, how’ and a-pa-ti-i-i[n ‘thus’ taken by themselves would be easily explicable as the combination of the pronominal roots *kw- and *obh- with the nominal endings *-óyoti > *-޳di > -Ŋdi of the ablative plus the ablative particle *-im > -in, as suggested by Goedegebuure (2010: 86f.). The contraction of the two i vowels would naturally result in long Ţ as attested. However, we also find semantically identical forms that feature no final nasal but show long Ţ nevertheless: a-pa-ti-i ‘thus’ and the corresponding form of the proximal stem zŊ-, i. e. za-a-ti-i ‘thus, in this way’. The only way to account for them is to assume an accent shift to the final syllable by analogy with the dat./loc. sg. in -Ţ (as attested in, e. g., ta-ti-i ‘for the father’ or iš-ša-ri-i ‘in the hand’ and paralleled by Lyc. A tdi < *tedi dat./loc. ‘who, which’ with syncope of the secondarily unstressed root syllable). The same is probably true for the forms underlying ku-wa-ti-i-in ‘as, how’ and a-pa-ti-i-i[n ‘thus’ as well, which may have inherited their long Ţ from *kuwatŢ and apatŢ. As a consequence, we cannot be sure whether the long Ţ comes from the contraction of final -i + *-im or from lengthening under accent. In either case, Ţ finds an explanation within the known framework. 3.6. As per Melchert (2009: 114), Luw. nom. pl. zi-i-in-z[i ‘these’ goes back to *‫ݡ‬oí + -ms- + -oi, i. e. the pronominal nom. pl. *‫ݡ‬oí (cf. Hitt. kŖ ‘these’) recharacterized by the nominal nom. pl. ending -nzi < *-msoi, which, in turn, is the generalized ending *-ms of the acc. pl. recharacterized by the pronominal nom. pl. ending *-oi. The origin of the plene spelled i-vowel is thus the product of the monophthongization of an i-diphthong. The stem zi-i- was also transfered to acc. pl. zi-i-in-za. Due to its fragmentary context, the meaning of the acc. sg. form zi-i-da-ni-in is not clear. Melchert (1993: 284) tentatively suggests that it is a derivative of zita/i- ‘man’. If so, long Ţ in this word goes back to *oi or *ei (cf. zita/i- < *‫ݡ‬oi-ti- or *‫ݡ‬ei-ti-, Gusmani 1987/88: 109). 3.7. The suffix of the 3rd sg. prs. verb form a-an-ni-i-ti ‘treats’ is contracted from -iya- < *-ye/o(Melchert 2004: 474). Although attested in a fragmentary context, the form a-ri-i-it[- is very probably a form of the verb ari(ya)- ‘raise’. Its plene spelled vowel is therefore also likely to be a contraction product of the change -iya- > Ţ. Likewise, ti-i-i‫ܔ‬-‫ܔ‬a ‘?’, also attested in broken context, can be interpreted as a 1st sg. prt., derived from *tiya-‫ܔܔ‬a. A clear case of -iya- > Ţ is mi-i-ša-an-za ‘flesh’, which has a by-form mi-ya-ša-an-za. If Kloekhorst’s (2008: 1033, 1036–8) reconstruction of a root *tyeh1- ‘end’ (underlying Hitt. zinne/a- ‘stop, finish’ < *ti-ne-h1-/ti-n-h1-, zŖ- ‘cook (intrans.), be cooked’ < *tyeh1-, zanu- ‘cook (trans.)’ < *tih1-neu-) is correct, a root connection with Luw. zŢla ‘subsequently, thereupon’ becomes attractive. The Luwian word could then be easily explained as a dat./loc. of a stem zŢla< *ziyŊla- < *tyeh1-lo- ‘end’ vel sim., and the meaning ‘towards (its) end’ would refer to the state 23

Elisabeth Rieken

of affairs mentioned in the previous sentence, whence the grammaticalized function as an adverbial connector. This would provide a new example of -iya- > Ţ. Yet another environment of -iya- > Ţ can be found in the suffix -id-. The sheer number of instances of plene spellings in this suffix shows that they do not occur randomly: wa-ni-i-ti-i-iš

u-wa-ni-i-ta-im-ma-an wa-ar-‫ܔ‬i-i-ta-ti-iš ma-al-li-i-ta-a-ti [(ti-)]i-ti-i-ta-a-ti [d]a-a-ni-i-ta NA4

nom. sg. of wani/Ţt-iya/i- ‘(made) of rock(?)’; cf. the base word uwŊniya/i- ‘of a rock-face, cliff’, and uwaniyant(i)- ‘?’ on the same fragment nom./acc. sg. n. of part. NA4uwanŢt-ai-mma/i- ‘petrified’ nom. sg. of war‫ܔ‬i/Ţt-ant(i)- ‘?’ abl. of malli/Ţ(t)- ‘honey’ abl. of tŢti/Ţ(t)- ‘pupil (of the eye)’ nom./acc. pl. n. of dŊni/Ţ(t)- ‘stele’

The accepted analysis of wa-ni-i-ti-i-iš is that of an iya/i-adjective of appurtenance derived from an id-stem /wanid-/ ‘stele, rock-face’ (Starke 1990: 187). In addition to the unexpected plene spelling of the suffix in Cuneiform-Luwian, Hieroglyphic-Luwian features the strange neuter acc. sg. form (“STELE”)wa/i-ni-za ‘stele’ (e. g. in TĔLSEVET §ɏ5) with the allomorph -za (instead of -sa) in the secondary ending. The nom./acc. with -za occurs in CEKKE side by side with the oblique stem in /-d-/ (§ɏ3 acc. STELE-zi?! /waniyanza/ and §ɏ22 dat./loc. sg. STELE-ri+i /waniri/ with rhotacism). It is obvious that what we are facing here is a new example of the analogical spread of the thematic ending -an (+ -za), which was first recognized by Melchert (2004) for neuter consonant stems and stems in -Ɖ(d)-. Parallel to the extension of nom./acc. sg. *‫ܔ‬Ţru (with regular loss of final -d-) ਘ *‫ܔ‬Ţruwan > ‫ܔ‬ŢrƉn (with syncope), we may assume that nom./acc. sg. *wani developed into waniyan (+ -za) and, with syncope, further into wanŢn (+ -za). Moreover, the spread of the long suffix vowel of the nom./acc. ‫ܔ‬ŢrƉn to the oblique stem ‫ܔ‬Ţrudਘ ‫ܔ‬ŢrƉd- by paradigmatic leveling, which was suggested by Melchert (2004), is also present in the oblique stem /wanŤd-/, as shown by its derivatives wa-ni-i-ti-i-iš ‘of rock(?)’ and NA4u-wa-nii-ta-im-ma-an ‘petrified’.ɏ4 Within Hieroglyphic-Luwian, this development is paralleled by the nom./acc. sg. n. forms sanawi-sa (neuter stem in -i(d)-) vs. sanawiyan-za (neuter stem in -iya-) as demonstrated by Yakubovich (2016: 465). The same explanation probably also applies to most of the other cases of Cuneiform Luwian /-Ţd-/, although it cannot be entirely excluded that in some cases -Ţd- was taken over only in the oblique stem while the nom./acc. sg. n. in -i remained intact as attested for nom./acc. sg. n. malli, abl./inst. mallŢd- ‘honey’. In one out of the five cases, i. e. (“STELE”)wa/i-ni-za ‘stele’, the unexpected case form in -inza indicates that a specific morphological development must be underlying. In another case, mallŢ(t)- ‘honey’ < *mélit-, we expect the stress to be on the first syllable because of the application of Āop’s Rule (Āop 1970). In two more cases, the plene spelling of both the first and second syllable (tŢtŢ(t)- ‘pupil of the eye’ and dŊnŢ(t)- ‘a cult object’), makes necessary an explanation for the plene spelling of at least one syllable in terms of something other than stress. The combined morphological and phonological explanation for the emergence of the suffix -Ţdsuggested above provides exactly this. For one case only, there is no independent evidence for the origin of long -Ţd- proposed here. 3.8. Following Carruba (1982) and Melchert (1990: 199–201), nine words with plene in the ending were convincingly interpreted as nom. or acc. forms of adjectives with the appurtenance suffix -iya/i-, i. e. with *-iyis, *-iyin and *-iyinzi respectively (see Melchert 1993: s.vv.). Cf.: 4 This makes unnecessary Melchert’s (2004: 472 fn. 2) own forced explanation invoking a restoration of the stem final dental wanid- parallel to zarza ‘heart’ < *zard-sa, which has a completely different phonological shape.

24

Word-internal plene spelling with and in Cuneiform Luwian texts

— — — — — —

[‫ܔ‬u-]i-it-wa-a-li-i-iš KUB 35.49 iv 13’ ‘alive’ [LÚlu-u-la-‫]ܔ‬i-i-iš KUB 35.49 iv 15’ ‘of the mountain-dwellers’ ta-a-ti-i-iš KUB 35.49 iv 14’, ta-ti-i-iš KUB 35.46, 6’, da-a-ti-i-in-zi KBo 29.55 i 6 ‘paternal’ AMA-i-iš KUB 35.46, 6’, AMA-i-in KBo 13.260 ii 30 ‘maternal’ GÉME-i-iš KUB 35.46, 6’ ‘of a female servant/slave’ [m]u-ut-ti-i-iš KBo 7.68 (+) 69 ii 13’ ‘having power’

Most of them (with the exception of AMA-i-in and [m]u-ut-ti-i-iš) are attested in the second and third ritual of the MUNUSŠU.GI fKuwatalla. In the same group of texts we also find five attestations of unexpected plene spellings with of endings with i-mutation: — — — — —

[i-iš-ša-r]i-i-iš ‘hand’ (KUB 35.46 iv! 2’) [ku-wa]-༒an༓-na-ni-i-in ‘eyebrow’ (KBo 29.10 ii 6’) [ma-aš-ša-na-al-li]-i-in ‘divine’ (KBo 29.10 ii 7’) du-ú-pa-im-mi-i-iš ‘struck’ (KUB 32.8(+) 5 iii 28’) la-al-pí-i-in= ‘eyelash’ (KUB 32.8(+) 5 iii 14’)ɏ5

Two pairs of them come from the same fragment and can be clearly regarded as mistakes in terms of postulated function of the plene spelling since they occur beside multiple examples without plene attested in parallel contexts of the same ritual. What we observe in the first group of examples is an earlier attempt to render faithfully the reflexes of *-iyis, *-iyin and *-iyinzi, which contain either a disyllabic sequence or, more probably, vowel length. Later copyists became confused and, by hypercorrection, added plene in the mutation syllable of the words of the second group. This was probably prompted by the other plene spellings in the same text that the scribes may not have understood properly and interpreted as an attempt to represent the vowel quality instead of quantity. Zsolt Simon (pers. comm.) kindly draws my attention to the fact that the extra in [i-iš-ša-r]i-i-iš ‘hand’ is rather compressed compared to the surrounding signs and seems to have been squeezed in secondarily. This may also be interpreted as an indication of the lack of confidence on the side of the scribe. Confirmation for this hypothesis can be found in cases of unexpected plene spelling of the i-vowel within Hittite contexts. Instances of these are:ɏ6 — — — — —

:ku-ra-a-im-mi-i-iš ‘cut’ (KUB 51.27 i 7’) ši-wa-an-ni-e-eš ‘?’ (KUB 35.146 iii 8’) [NINDA]༒lu-wa༓-am-me-i-en (a bread) (KUB 25.50 ii 8) [NINDA]la-at-ta-ri-i-en (KUB 25.50 ii 9) ku-wa-ra-am-mi-e-eš (KBo 30.168 Rs. 9)

If the Hittite scribes wished to render the words of the Luwian texts, which belong to a foreign language, with special accuracy (see section 1), this could easily result in a hypercorrect spelling by means of an extra vowel sign. On the phonological level, it was not meant to represent a long vowel, but a “proper” /i/, while on the morphological level, plene was used to emphasize the correct Luwian form with i-mutation. This explanation would be valid for the attestations of both the second group of words in this section and :ku-ra-a-im-mi-i-iš in Hittite context. In contrast, we may associate the other four spellings of the latter group containing e-signs with Yakubovich’s (2010: 326–33) scenario of the hypercorrect spread of /e/ in Luwian loanwords in order to avoid non-standard “Luwian” i-vocalism in Hittite texts. Thus, the diffusion 5 Two more words stem from the same corpus (KUB 35.13, 20’ and KBo 9.41 i 5’ and ibid. 6’), but since neither meaning nor context are known, nothing can be drawn from them. 6 Courtesy Zsolt Simon.

25

Elisabeth Rieken

of /e/ does not only affect lexemes as Yakubovich (2010: 326–333) had suggested, but also grammatical morphemes. If this is correct, both types of unexpected plene spelling, with and , are due to hypercorrection, the former in avoidance of wrong Luwian, the latter by shunning putative Luwianisms. The adjectival interpretation of three items is not assured due to their fragmentary contexts, but there is also no counter-evidence. Three more are fragmentary themselves: — — — — — —

tar-ga-aš-ša-na-al-li-i-i[š ‘of(?) a muleteer’ [ ]x-zu-ú-wa-ni-i-iš ‘?’ wa-ni-i-ti-i-iš ‘of rock(?)’ za-ši-i-in[(-) ‘?’ pa-ri-i-it[- ‘?’ pa-ri-༒i༓-[ ‘?’

3.9. Two more contexts of plene in mutation syllables need consideration. They are due to specific phonological and graphic conditions, respectively. While the following words are to be classified as iya/i-adjectives as well, their bases end in a vowel (-a- or -u-). With Melchert (1990: 201f.), it is safe to assume that, in this specific environment, the extra sign does not represent vowel length at all, but rather the glide between the first vowel and the mutation vowel (/-ayi-/ or /-uyi-/): — — — — — —

a-ar-ra-i-in-zi ‘long’ ku-um-ma-i-in-zi ‘pure’ pár-la-i-in ‘front (?)’ wa-ar-pa-i-in-zi ‘of enclosure’ wa-aš-‫ܔ‬a-i-iš ‘sacred’ i-wa-ru-ú-i-eš ‘of iwaru-’

The same phenomenon is observable in other morphological contexts as well, e. g. in the 3rd pl. imp. ap-pa-ra-i-in-du ‘?’. Another group of unexpected plene spellings with is found in the position after and representing either the labial glide or the labial element of /kw/ or /‫ݻ‬w/. For Hittite, Kloekhorst (2014: 134–61) was able to show that plene spellings with such as and in this position are used to make up for the lack of signs and (as opposed to existent and ). Thus, the spellings and are functional equivalent to and , respectively. Although Kloekhorst (2004: 430–4) seems to be hesitant to transfer the principle to , it does apply to it as well (in spite of the existence of ). As a matter of fact, it offers a convincing explanation for the following spellings with where no long Ţ vowel is to be expected: — — — — — — —

ku-i-iš, ku-i-in ‘who’ ‫ܔ‬a-a-u-༒e-eš༓ ‘sheep’ ‫ܔ‬a-a-ú-i-iš ‘sheep’ [‫ܔ‬a-a]-ú-i-iš ‘sheep’ da-a-u-i-iš ‘eye’ da-ak-ku-ú-i-iš, [da]- ༒ak/an༓-ku-ú-i-in ‘dark’ [‫ܔ‬u-]i-it-wa-a-li-i-iš ‘alive’ (first plene )

Accordingly, the adverb za-(a-)ú-i-in ‘here’ is ambiguous. It may be just another example of the last group, but also a case of the contraction -(i)ya- > Ţ, if it is a combination of za(-a)-ú-i 26

Word-internal plene spelling with and in Cuneiform Luwian texts

‘here’ + -an ‘in’ (cf. pariyan ‘beyond’ from pari ‘forth, away’ + -an ‘in’; for -an < *én(i) see Yakubovich: forthcoming). Also in the verb forms ú-i-it-t[a-ri and ta-ra-a-u-i-it-ta the plene spelling with after the signs and , respectively, does not allow for any conclusions on the length of the vowel /i/. An important repercussion of the evidence scrutinized in the last two sections is that there is no reason to assume that the i-mutation vowel was long (contra Melchert 2003: 187f. and Rieken 2005: 171). The plene spellings attested in the mutated endings find various, but plausible and coherent explanations in their respective contexts. 4. There are several cases of plene spelling with that have not been discussed in the previous sections, because nothing can be said about their origin due to the lack of a convincing etymology or morphological analysis. It may, however, be emphasized that in each single case the plene spelling is found in open syllable and no other plene spelling occurs in the word. Therefore, nothing forbids us to assume that the position of the stress was on the plene written syllable, which would then be regularly lengthened. Cf.: — — — — — — —

‫ܔ‬al-li-i-na-i, [‫ܔ‬al-]li-i-na-i, ‫ܔ‬al-li-i-n[a-i] (factitive suffix -Ţna-(i)) pár-ta-ri-i-na-li-ti mi-i-lu-uš-ga-an GIŠ‫ܔ‬i-i-e[l-lu-wa, GIŠ‫ܔ‬i-i-lu[-wa GIŠti-i-ra-na n]a-di-i-en-ta ‫ܔ‬i-i-ša-a[l-, ‫ܔ‬i-i-ša[(-a)l-

5. The second and much shorter part of this article deals with the plene spelling with the vowel sign . The use of the sign is surprising given that the phonological system of Luwian as established does not contain a vowel /e/. However, there are 20 instances of in the corpus. Interestingly, 10 out of these occur in the context of the sequence ɏ7 instead of expected or , which normally represents the adjectival or verbal derivational suffixes of the shape *-ye/o- (e. g. na-a-ni-e-ya ‘of the brother’ and a-ni-e-ya-an-t[i(-) part. of an(n)i(ya)- ‘carry out, treat’). In a single case we find with omission of the palatal glide (wa-ri-e-a). If the choice of is more than just a spelling convention, it should mark an allophone of /i/ that may have arisen by a kind of dissimilation process next to the palatal glide. An allophonic interpretation is probable also for the attestations of in the neighborhood of /‫ݻ‬/, which is a typical lowering context;ɏ8 cf. ši-e-‫ܔ‬u-wa-en-zi še-e-wa, ‫ܔ‬u-u-e-‫ܔ‬u-u-i-ya, and ‫ܔ‬i-e-ru-un. Obviously, lowering of /i/ precedes the regular loss of /‫ݻ‬/ before the labiovelar glide in še-e-wa (for the loss see Melchert 1994: 258). Finally, occurs three times in da-a-i-e-ni ‘?’ and once in ši-wa-an-ni-e-eš ‘?’. The status as Luwian is dubious in either case (cf. Melchert 1993: 201 and Rieken 1999: 37 contra Melchert 1993: 195). Perhaps the spelling with in this phonetic context, which is unusual for Luwian, indicates a Hittite origin of the two words. Based on the plene spellings with , we may thus conclude that Luwian /i/ had an allophone [e], which occurred within the diphthong /iya/ [eya] and before and after /‫ݻ‬/. After the in lu-ri-e-x[ (KBo 8.130 iii 2’) two horizontal wedges that may belong to a can still be seen. It also causes the lowering of /u/ to [o] in Luwian (Melchert 2010) and to /o/ in Hittite (Rieken 2005 and Kloekhorst 2014, with references). A second option for ‫ܔ‬i-e-ru-un would be the lowering of /i/ before /r/, which is a lowering context for /u/ in Hittite as well. 7 8

27

Elisabeth Rieken

6 Summary. More than 20 years ago, Melchert (1994: 27) brought forward the hypothesis that the scribes in the Hittite capital used the same spelling rules for Luwian as they did for Hittite. In the previous sections, this assumption has been put to a test by scrutinizing all data available for plene in Luwian texts. It was shown that, with our improved knowledge of spelling rules in Hittite and Luwian historical phonology and grammar, Melchert’s hypothesis was confirmed and can be used as a reliable basis for the investigation of plene spellings with other vowel signs. In general, plene in Luwian marks a long vowel /Ť/, which arises from original or anaptyctic /i/ under the accent (attested in open syllables; section 3.1 and 3.3), by sound change *‫( ܚ > ڛ‬section 3.2), by contraction of two e-vowels via *‫( ܚ > ڛ‬section 3.4) and contraction of two i-vowels (sections 3.5 and 3.8), through monophthongization of the diphthongs *oi and probably *ei (see sections 3.6 and 3.2), and by syncope of iya > Ţ (section 3.7). In support of the hypothesis., new etymologies (e. g. zŢla) and morphological analyses (suffixes -Ţd- and -tŢl-, ending -Ţn) were proposed. However, in addition to the phonological and morphological contexts listed above, spelling peculiarities after vowels (section 3.9), the relevance of origin and transmission, and other sociolinguistic factors for the use of plene and were taken into account (section 3.8). As a result, it became clear that the vowel /i/ in the i-mutated endings is short. Plene spellings in this morphological context find various other explanations that allow us to attribute them to the derivation with the suffix of appurtenance *-ye/o-, to certain phonological conditions and to hypercorrection. Plene spelling with indicates an allophone [e] of the phoneme /i/ that is limited to the context of the diphthong /iya/ and the position before and after /‫ݻ‬/ (section 4). The rules for the occurrence of spellings with a plene and extrapolated from the corpus are not always applied with the same degree of strictness, but the evidence for a meaningful usage of this graphic device is clear enough not to discard it hastily.

Bibliography Bauer, Anna H. 2014. Morphosyntax of the noun phrase in Hieroglyphic Luwian (Brill’s Studies in Indo-European Languages & Linguistics 12). Leiden / Boston: Brill. Brosch, Cyril. 2011[2012]. Zum hethitischen Lautgesetz *Two > Ta. Historische Sprachforschung 124: 59Ʌ65. Carruba, Onofrio. 1981. Pleneschreibung und Betonung im Hethitischen. Zeitschrift für vergleichende Sprachforschung 95: 232–248. Āop, Bojan. 1970. Eine luwische orthographisch-phonetische Regel. Indogermanische Forschungen 75: 85–96. Dempsey, Timothy R. 2015. Verbal reduplication in Anatolian. PhD dissertation UCLA. URL: http://www.escholarship.org/help_copyright.html#reuse. Dunkel, George E. 2014. Lexikon der indogermanischen Partikeln und Pronominalstämme. Vol. 2: Lexikon. Heidelberg: Winter. Eichner, Heiner. 1980. Phonetik und Lautgesetze des Hethitischen — ein Weg zu ihrer Entschlüsselung. In: Mayrhofer, Manfred / Peters, Martin / Pfeiffer, Oskar E. (ed.). Lautgeschichte und Etymologie. Akten der VI. Fachtagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft. Wien, 24.-29. September 1978: 120–165. Wiesbaden: Reichert. Friedrich, Johannes. 1931. Hethitisch und „kleinasiatische“ Sprachen. Geschichte der indogermanischen Sprachwissenschaft, 2. Teil, 5. Band, Lief. 1. Berlin: de Gruyter. Georgiev, Vladimir I. 1983. Hethitica II. Balkansko Ezikoznanie / Linguistique Balkanique 26: 5–28. Götze, Albrecht. 1928. Madduwattaš. Hethitische Texte 3. Leipzig: Hinrichs. Gusmani, Roberto. 1987/88. Recenti apporti alla questione delle forme “satem”. Incontri Linguistici 12: 105–110. Hart, Gillian R. 1980. Some observations on plene-writing in Hittite. Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 43: 1–17. Hart, Gillian R. 1983. Problems of writing and phonology in Cuneiform Hittite. In: Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 1983: 100–154.

28

Word-internal plene spelling with and in Cuneiform Luwian texts

Held, Warren / Schmalstieg, William R. 1969. Some comments on the Hittite phonological system. In: General Linguistics 9: 93–110. Hrozný, Bedźich. 1917. Die Sprache der Hethiter: ihr Bau und ihre Zugehörigkeit zum indogermanischen Sprachstamm. Ein Entzifferungsversuch. Boghazköi-Studien 1. Leipzig: Hinrichs. Ivanov, Vyacheslav V. 2002. Indo-European *bhuH- in Luwian and the prehistory of past and perfect”. In: Proceedings of the Twelfth Annual UCLA Indo-European Conference, Los Angeles, May 26–28, 2000: 70–106. (Journal of Indo-European Studies Monograph 40). Washington, DC: Institute for the Study of Man. Kammenhuber, Annelies. 1969. Hethitisch, Palaisch, Luwisch und Hieroglyphenluwisch. In: Spuler, Bertold (ed.). Altkleinasiatische Sprachen (HbOr. 1. Abt. II. Bd., 1. u. 2. Abschnitt, Lieferung 2). Köln / Leiden: Brill. Kimball, Sara E. 1983. Hittite Plene Writing. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania. Kimball, Sara E. 1999. Hittite historical phonology (Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Sprachwissenschaft 95). Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachen und Literaturen der Universität Innsbruck. Kloekhorst, Alwin. 2008. Etymological dictionary of the Hittite inherited lexicon (Leiden Indo-European Etymological Dictionary Series 5). Leiden / Boston: Brill. Kloekhorst, Alwin. 2008a. Studies in Lycian and Carian phonology and morphology. Kadmos 47: 117–146. Kloekhorst, Alwin. 2006. Initial laryngeals in Anatolian. In: Historische Sprachforschung 119: 77–108. Kloekhorst, Alwin. 2014. Accent in Hittite. A study in plene spelling, consonant gradation, clitics, and metrics (Studien zu den BoŜazköy-Texten 56). Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Kronasser, Heinz. 1956. Vergleichende Laut- und Formenlehre des Hethitischen. Heidelberg: Winter. LIV2 = Kümmel, Martin and Helmut Rix, eds. 2001. Lexikon der indogermanischen Verben: Die Wurzeln und ihre Primärstammbildungen. 2nd ed. Wiesbaden: Reichert. Melchert, H. Craig. 1984. Studies in Hittite historical phonology (Ergänzungshefte zur Zeitschrift für Vergleichende Sprachforschung 32). Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Melchert, H. Craig. 1990. Adjectives in *-iyo- in Anatolian. Historische Sprachforschung 103: 198–207. Melchert, H. Craig. 1992. Hittite vocalism. In: Carruba, Onofrio (ed.). Per una grammatica ittita. Towards a Hittite Grammar (Studia Mediterranea 7): 182–196. Pavia: Iuculano. Melchert, H. Craig. 1994. Anatolian historical phonology (Leiden Studies in Indo-European 3). Amsterdam / Atlanta: Rodopi. Melchert, H. Craig. 2003. Language. In: Melchert, H. Craig (ed.). The Luwians (Handbuch der Orientalistik 68): 170– 210. Leiden / Boston: Brill. Melchert, H. Craig. 2004. The inflection of some irregular Luvian neuter nouns. In: Groddek, Detlev / Rößle, Sylvester (ed.). Šarnikzel. Hethitologische Studien zum Gedenken an Emil Orgetorix Forrer (19.02.1894– 10.01.1986) (Dresdner Beiträge zur Hethitologie 10): 471–475. Dresden: Verlag der TU Dresden. Melchert, H. Craig. 2009. The animate nominative plural in Luvian and Lycian. In: Nedoma, Robert / Stifter, David (ed.). *h2nr. Festschrift für Heiner Eichner (Sprache 48): 112–117. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Melchert, H. Craig. 2010. The verbal prefix “u-” and vs. spellings in Anatolian cuneiform. Paper presented at the East Coast Indo-European Conference 29, June 19, 2010, Ithaca. Melchert, H. Craig. 2013. Hittite “heteroclite” s-stems. In: Cooper, Adam I. / Rau, Jeremy / Weiss, Michael (ed.). Multi nominis grammaticus. Studies in Classical and Indo-European linguistics in honor of Alan J. Nussbaum on the occasion of his sixty-fifth birthday: 175–184. Ann Arbor / New York: Beech Stave. Oettinger, Norbert. 1979. Die Stammbildung des hethitischen Verbums (Erlanger Beiträge zur Sprach- und Kunstwissenschaft 64). Erlangen / Nürnberg: Carl. Oettinger, Norbert. 2009. Die Indo-Hittite-Hypothese und die Ausgliederung des Anatolischen. In: Paper at the “Arbeitstagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft“, Würzburg, 24.–26. September 2009. Oettinger, Norbert. 2015. Hethitisch partipartiske- ‘laufen’ (*sperdh-) und mutmutali- ‘Schweinewühlplatz’. In: Münchener Studien zur Sprachwissenschaft 69: 269–279. Oettinger, Norbert. 2015a. Der Flexionstyp idg. *s‫ڛ‬h2‫ܜ‬৘ ‘saure Flüssigkeit’, *n‫ڛ‬bh-s n. ‘Gewölk’. In: Indogermanische Forschungen 120: 255–267. Otten, Heinrich / Souőek, Vaclav. 1969. Ein althethitisches Ritual für das Königspaar (Studien zu den BoŜazköyTexten 8). Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Pedersen, Holger. 1938. Hittitisch und die anderen indo-europäischen Sprachen (Historisk-filologiske meddelelser 25). København: Munksgaard. Plöchl, Reinhold. 2003. Einführung ins Hieroglyphen-Luwische (Dresdner Beiträge zur Hethitologie 8). Dresden: Verlag der TU Dresden. 29

Elisabeth Rieken

Rieken, Elisabeth. 1999. Untersuchungen zur nominalen Stammbildung des Hethitischen (Studien zu den BoŜazköyTexten 44). Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Rieken, Elisabeth. 2005. Zur Wiedergabe von hethitisch /o/. In: Meiser, Gerhard (ed.). Sprachkontakt und Sprachwandel. Akten der XI. Fachtagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft in Halle/S., 17.–23. September 2000: 537– 549. Wiesbaden: Reichert. Rieken, Elisabeth. 2005b. Neues zum Ursprung der anatolischen i-Mutation. Historische Sprachforschung 118: 48–74. Rieken, Elisabeth. 2010. Das Zeichen im Hieroglyphen-Luwischen. In: Aygül Süel (ed.), Acts of the VIIth International Congress of Hittitology, Çorum, August 25–31, 2008: 651–660. Ankara: n/a. Rieken, Elisabeth. 2013. Sekundäre denominal u-Stämme im Hethitischen. In: Cooper, Adam I. / Rau, Jeremy / Weiss, Michael (ed.). Multi nominis grammaticus. Studies in Classical and Indo-European linguistics in honor of Alan J. Nussbaum on the occasion of his sixty-fifth birthday: 274–284. Ann Arbor / New York: Beech Stave. Rieken, Elisabeth. 2016. Zum luwischen Ursprung von heth. LÚta/u‫ܔ‬ukanti- ‘Kronprinz’. In: Henning Marquardt / Silio Reichmuth / José Virgilio García Trabazo (ed.). Anatolica et Indogermanica. Studia linguistica in honorem Johannis Tischler septuagenarii dedicate (Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Sprachwissenschaft 155): 267–277. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachen und Literaturen der Universität Innsbruck. Rosenkranz, Bernhard. 1959. Zur hethitischen Orthographie und Lautlehre. In: von Kienle, Richard / Moortgat, Anton / Otten, Heinrich / von Schuler, Einar / Zaumseil, Walter (ed.). Festschrift Johannes Friedrich zum 65. Geburtstag am 27. August 1958 gewidmet: 417–426. Heidelberg: Winter. Simon, Zsolt. 2010. Das Problem der phonetischen Interpretation der anlautenden scriptio plena im Keilschriftluwischen. Babel und Bibel 4: 249–265. Simon, Zsolt. 2013. Once again on the Hieroglyphic Luwian sign *19 . Indogermanische Forschungen 118: 1–21. Simon, Zsolt. 2016. Hinweise auf einen luwischen Lautwandel. N.A.B.U 2016/1: 40f. Starke, Frank. 1990. Untersuchung zur Stammbildung des keilschrift-luwischen Nomens (Studien zu den BoŜazköyTexten 31). Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Sturtevant, Edgar H. 1933. A comparative grammar of the Hittite language (William Dwight Whitney Linguistic Series 1). Philadelphia: Linguistic Society of America. Sturtevant, Edgar H. / E. Adelaide Hahn. 1951. A comparative grammar of the Hittite language. Revised edition. New Haven: Yale University Press. Watkins, Calvert. 1993. Some Anatolian words and forms. In: Meiser, Gerhard (ed.). Indogermanica et Italica. Festschrift für Helmut Rix zum 65. Geburtstag: 469–478. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität Innsbruck. Weeden, Mark. 2011. Spelling, phonology and etymology in Hittite historical linguistics. Review of Kloekhorst 2008. Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 74: 59–76. Weitenberg, Joseph J. S. 1984. Die hethitischen u-Stämme (Amsterdamer Publikationen zur Sprache und Literatur 52). Amsterdam: Rodopi. Yakubovich, Ilya. 2008. The Luvian enemy. In: Kadmos. Zeitschrift für vor- und frühgriechische Epigraphik 47: 1–19. Yakubovich, Ilya. 2016. A Luwian welcome. In: Šárka Velhartická (ed.). Audias fabulas veteres. Anatolian studies in honor of Jana Souőková-Siegelová: 463–484. Leiden / Bosten: Brill. Yakubovich, Ilya. Forthcoming. Hittite local adverbs in comparative perspective. In: Rieken, Elisabeth (ed.). 100 Jahre Entzifferung des Hethitischen: Morphosyntaktische Kategorien in Sprachgeschichte und Forschung. Akten der Arbeitstagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft in Marburg, 21.–23. September 2015. Wiesbaden: Reichert.

ʣ˕ˌˊʸʺˀ˞ ʍˌːˀ˗. ʃˣ༤ˁ˫˪ˣ˻ˋ ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣ˘̀ plene ˨ ˘ ˅ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨ˣ˻˲ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˪ˋ˜˨˪ˁ˲ ɴ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖ˁ ʍˋ༤˵ˋ˧˪ˁ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨ˣˁ̀ «˥˧˱˥ˆ˧ˁ˱˘̀» ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˄˻༤ˁ ˦ˋ˧ˋˊˁˣˁ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨ˣ˥ˢ˫ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˢ˫ ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˦˘˨˴ˁˢ˘, ˄˻༤ˁ ˦˧˥˅ˋ˧ˋˣˁ ˣˁ ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣ˘̀˲ plene ˨ . ʘ˪˥˵ˣˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˥˄ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˆ˧ˁˢˢˁ˪˘˜ˋ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁ˿˪ ˊˁˣˣ˫˿ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˫. ʎ˥˅˻ˋ ˥˄˺̀˨ˣˋˣ˘̀ ˊˁ˿˪˨̀ ˧̀ˊ˫ ˨༤˫˵ˁˋ˅ ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣ˘̀ plene ˨ . ʇ˧˥ˢˋ ˪˥ˆ˥, ˥ˆ˧ˁˣ˘˵ˋˣˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ plene ˥˦˘˨˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˦˧˘ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˘ ˣˁ˄˥˧ˁ ˵ˋ˪˜˘˲ ˦˧ˁ˅˘༤. ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣ˘̀ plene, ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜ˁ̀ ˱˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀, ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˋ zila

30

Zsolt Simon Institut für Assyriologie und Hethitologie, Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität München; [email protected]

Selected Pisidian problems and the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages This paper presents three problems of Pisidian and their repercussions regarding the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages. These problems are the origin of the personal name ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ (gen.) and related names; the origin of the personal name ̦Ωήά΢έΜ; and the question whether the dative is attested in Pisidian. The paper argues that Pisidian is a Luwic language: not as a daughter of Hieroglyphic Luwian, but either as a part of the Carian — Lycian — Milyan dialect continuum or as a late form of Milyan. Keywords: Pisidian, Luwic, Hieroglyphic Luwian, Milyan, personal names

1. Introduction This paper presents three problems of Pisidian. They are connected by the fact that all of them have repercussions regarding the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages, which will be dealt with in §ɏ5. These problems are (§ɏ2) the origin of the personal name ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ (gen.) and related names; (§ɏ3) the origin of the personal name ̦Ωήά΢έΜ; and (§ɏ4) the question whether the dative is attested in Pisidian.ɏ1

2. The origin of ̌ΎΏΌΏΜΓΚ (gen.) and related names ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ is attested as a patronym in genitive three times, twice as ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ (in the inscriptions Nos. N13, N14) and once as ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΠ (N12), on the last form see below (§ɏ4). As for the etymology of ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ, Starke 1987: 258 n. 58 suggested that it represents a suffixed form of ̝ΟΜΝΜ (N12) (gen. ̝ΟΜΝΩΫ (N10, N11 [bis], N27)). In turn, he connected ̝ΟΜΝΜ with ̝ΟΜάΜΫ (gen.) (N7), what he identified with Lyc. xddaza- ‘slave’ (so already Lebrun 1983: 68 [not quoted by Starke], 2012: 362; see also Starke 1990: 363 n. 1295a [“wohl”]).ɏ2 Finally, he derived both forms from the root *gda-, what he identified with the personal name ‫ܓ‬adŊ attested in Old Assyrian transmission (Laroche 1966 No. 333).ɏ3 Starke’s derivational chain is undoubtedly correct, however, the connection with the Lycian word is problematic, since one would expect †̝ΟΜΡΜΫ in Pisidian. Thus I find more merit in the suggestion of I. Hajnal, who, without quoting Starke’s or Lebrun’s derivation, assumed that ̝ΟΜΝΜ originates in *hanta-wa- ‘belonging to the front side’ (Hajnal 1994: 147 n. 33–34 with 149 n. 40, 2000: 173; similarly Melchert 2013: 35 [*hantawa- ‘foremost, ruling’, without quoting Pisidian inscriptions are quoted according to the numbering of Brixhe 2016b. Lebrun 2012: 360 cautiously compared ̝ΟΜΝΜ with Lyc. xddaza- ‘slave’ (without explaining the differences), but later (362), as quoted above, he compared ̝ΟΜάΜΫ with this Lycian word. 3 For the sake of completeness, the outdated etymologies shall also be mentioned: ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ is an ethnic name due to its -t- (Ramsay 1895: 356, 361); ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ originates in a female divine name “*ghþŵm-” (Haas 1961: 61); ̝ΟΜΝΩΫ is the Pisidian form of Greek ̞ϏΩΫ (Ramsay 1895: 360). 1 2

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/1 (2017) • Pp. 31–42 • © The authors, 2017

Zsolt Simon

Hajnal or the alternative view] and Rieken — Sasseville 2014: 308–309 with different semantics). This suggestion can neatly explain all Pisidian forms: a) ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ (gen.) corresponds to Lycian xñtawat(i)-, Luwian ‫ܔ‬andawat(i)- ‘ruler’ (see already König 1936: 28 with n.3;ɏ4 Melchert 2013: 35 [not quoting König and spelling ̝ΟΝΠέΤ-]); b) ̝ΟΜΝΜ continues the adjective *hanta-wa- ‘belonging to the front side’ underlying to the verb *hantawa- ‘to rule’ (attested in Lycian as xñtawa-) underlying at the very end to ‫ܔ‬andawat(i)-; c) ̝ΟΜάΜΫ can regularly continue the frequent formation with -assa/i-, i.e. *hant-assa/i-. The i-mutation does not affect the genitive, and that is why there is no trace of the Umlaut expected on the base of ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ. Although only the explanation of ̝ΟΜάΜΫ represents a novelty here, it was important to quote the discussion due to its phonological implications that, in turn, contribute to determining the position of Pisidian among the Anatolian languages. Melchert 2013: 35 inferred the following sound changes: 1) regular voicing t > d after nasal 2) loss of nasal 3) shift of w > v/b 4) assimilation *kd- > gdWhile the voicing t > d after nasal is not remarkable in Anatolia, the loss of nasal (more precisely, *-nd- > -d-) and the assimilation *kd- > gd- will have a specific role below (§ɏ5.2).ɏ5 Finally, to these changes one must add the a > e Umlaut caused by the suffix -ti-ɏ6 as well as the syncope of the presumably unaccented vowel in the first syllable (cf. also Brixhe 2016b: 112).

3. The origin of ̕ΘΝΛΑΜ΋ The origin of the name ̦Ωήά΢έΜ (N4, N5, N7, N23; once ̦Ωά΢έΜ (N3)), gen. ̦Ωήά΢έΩΫ (N2, N6; once ̦Ωά΢έβΫ (N1)) is explained from Muwa-ziti- (Laroche 1966 Nr. 840) since Houwink ten Cate 1961: 167.ɏ7 However, Melchert 2013: 39 recognized that ̦Ωήά΢έΜ cannot be a regular reflex of Muwaziti- due to the voiceless stop and the vowel written with an eta, to which one must add that the sigma cannot reflect , as it should be spelled with zeta (Schürr forthcoming).ɏ8 Melchert suggests that with the loss of the synchronic compound status (referring to the fact that Ziti-, as such, is not attested in the Iron Age), this name was remodelled after Greek masculine names in -Μέ΢Ϋ/-ΜέΜΫ. It must be mentioned at this juncture, as Melchert himself pointed out, I owe this reference to Ignasi-Xavier Adiego. The “shift of w > v/b”, i.e. the exact phonetic value of beta in these inscriptions requires a specific investigation that cannot be accomplished here. 6 The consistent spelling of these names (and the Pisidian names in general) either with epsilon or with alpha proves that these must have been different phonemes and not a sheer “échange graphique” (contra Brixhe 2016b: 113) and, accordingly, they need a linguistic explanation, for which Umlaut is an obvious solution. 7 See also Zgusta 1963: 479; Starke 1987: 256 n. 51, 1999: cols. 531–532; Brixhe — Drew-Bear — Kaya 1987: 136; Brixhe 1988: 142, 143, 2016b: 115 (none of the last three quoting Houwink ten Cate or Zgusta); Adiego 1992: 32, 2007: 386 (here only “perhaps”); Hajnal 1995: 32 n. 10, 2000: 173 (without quoting anyone); Melchert 2013: 39 (without quoting anyone). 8 The problem of the voiceless stops was also recognized by Starke 1987: 256 n. 51, but he dismissed it without explanation. Adiego 1992: 32 n. 11 explains the vocalism with the names in °άΜέ΢Ϋ, allegedly continuing names in -ziti, which is, however, obscurum per obscurius. 4 5

32

Selected Pisidian problems and the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages

that this name is attested not only in Pisidian, but also in Carian (Mwsat, Adiego 2007: 386) and in Cilicia (̦βά΢έΜΫ, Zgusta 1964 §ɏ1004).ɏ9 Schürr (forthcoming) disagreed with this suggestion, pointing out that these names did not become Greek, and Greek influence in a Carian name attested in Egypt in the 6th c. BC as well as in a name attested in Pisidia in the 3rd c. AD is not probable. Nevertheless, the names did not need to become fully Greek to absorb Greek influence, and Greek influence is absolutely possible both in 3rd c. AD Pisidia (consider the Greek names with Greek inflectional endings in the inscriptions N10, N31, N34) as well as in Egypt in the 6th c. BC, especially in view of the presence of Greek mercenaries together with the Carians, and that the name itself must have originated from Caria anyway. The real problem with Melchert’s explanation is that it is unlikely that the same remodelling would happen in three different and non-contiguous languages, i.e. in Carian, Pisidian and “Cilician” (probably a late form of Luwian). It is much more probable that it reflects a shared innovation, a shared type of suffixation, especially since as Luwic languages, these languages are closely related to one another. Moreover, a seemingly underlying Luwic *-atta- suffix is not unknown in the Anatolian languages: it has an equivalent in Lydian in such wellknown names as Aly-attŖs, Sady-attŖs and even Maddu(w)-atta. The Carian name was already analysed as Mws-at by Schürr (forthcoming), who connects it with other Carian names showing the same suffix (PΦat; ŠdΝat; Wli/jat / ̩/̮ΦΤΜέΩΫ [Adiego 2007: 400, 418, 428; Vernet Pons 2012: 148–149]; ̬ΤΟήΜέΩΫ), but without providing an explanation for this suffix.ɏ10 However, Schürr (forthcoming) separates the Pisidian name, since the spelling with an eta instead of an alpha requires an explanation. In fact, this variation is attested in Pisidian, the “only” question is how to interpret the data. The examples are the following: 1) ̟ΤΜ (N9, N14) vs. ̟Τ΢ (N1, N37, N48) 2) ̧ΜΦΤ (N37) vs. ̧΢ΦΤ (N16, and perhaps N39) According to Schürr (forthcoming) ̧ΜΦΤ and ̧΢ΦΤ are two variants of the same name, and the eta seems to reflect Umlaut due to the following /i/. While this cannot be excluded a priori, the result of the only assured case of i-Umlaut shows epsilons (see ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ above, §ɏ2), and epsilons and etas are not interchangeable (Brixhe 1987: 46–49, 2010: 232–233, cf. also 1988: 145). Furthermore, Brixhe — Özsait 2001: 164 cautiously argue that ̧ΜΦΤ and ̧΢ΦΤ have nothing to do with each other, since H already had the value /i/ at that time (cf. also Brixhe 1987: 46–49, 1988: 139, 2010: 232) and thus these are derived by -li- from two different and well attested Lallnamen, Na and Ni. Set aside that the precise date of these specific inscriptions is unknown,ɏ11 the situation is nevertheless more complex, for eta had not yet merged with /i/ in the 4th c. AD, when the Gothic, Old Georgian and Old Armenian alphabets were created (Allen 1987: 74–75, cf. also Starke 1987: 256 n. 49: [e] and [i]).ɏ12 In other words, the existence of two different names cannot be proven. The frequently connected Lydian ̦ΩήάΜέ΢Ϋ (Zgusta 1964 §ɏ987a) does not exist, see Schürr 2001: 100 n. 7 with ref. 10 Vernet Pons 2012: 150 suggested deriving Wli/jat from a form with -ant-, but in this case we would expect *Wli/jaΏ in Carian (*-nt- leads to Carian Ώ, Adiego 2007: 260). 11 As for No. 16, Ramsay 1895: 354 claimed that it is not possible to date the inscriptions N1-N16, but some of them may be Roman (followed by Borchhardt — Neumann — Schulz 1975: 68, who falsely claim that Ramsay dated these inscriptions based on the shapes of the letters). N37 was dated by the publishers to the 3rd c. AD (Brixhe — Özsait 2001: 156, 166), without providing any arguments. 12 Melchert 2013: 39 also claims that eta was not an /i/, thus implicitly withdrawing his earlier interpretation when he transcribed the name as “Musita” (Melchert 1994a: 44, 1994b: 127). 9

33

Zsolt Simon

The case of the other name, ̟ΤΜ / ̟Τ΢, is also instructive (the problem of the spelling variation was already observed by Zgusta 1957: 582, who could not offer a solution). Although Brixhe 1988: 145, 2016b: 115 suggests that ̟Τ΢ is the Hellenised version, there is no reason to see a Hellenised form in this name. Since there is no external reason to motivate the alpha / eta variation in the spelling of ̟ΤΜ / ̟Τ΢ and ̧ΜΦΤ / ̧΢ΦΤ, the remaining possibility is that they represent a specific phoneme originating from /a/ that could not have been rendered by the Greek alphabet (perhaps an /æ/). Whatever the exact phonetic realization of this phoneme was, the existence of free variation of alpha / eta proves that the name ̦Ωήά΢έΜ can be connected with Mws-at and the -atta-names regularly.ɏ13 4. Is the dative attested in Pisidian? Three instances from the inscriptions N1 and N12 were suggested as attestations of dative in Pisidian. The inscription N12 (with a male on the relief) is as follows (in the generally accepted segmentation): ̝ΟΜΝΜ ̦΢ΧΠΫ ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΠ. Those who wanted to see a dative, identified ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΠ as the dative form (see already Sundwall 1913: 117; Zgusta 1957: 605–606, 1963: 480; Haas 1961: 61). However, ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΠ is obviously either a misspelling or the misreading of ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ (gen.), since it is in the position of the papponym.ɏ14 Note also that not a single instance of the almost fifty grave inscriptions known to date contain a “dedicatory” one (for the alleged exception of the inscription N1 see the following discussion). The inscription N1 on the tombstone of two men and a woman is as follows: ΟβέΜΪΤ÷Ωά΢έβΫΠΤ΢Οβέ[Μ]ΪΤΫΟβέΜΪΤΠΧΠΤΫ It has been segmented in two different ways and interpreted in three different ways (Table 1): Table 1. Suggested interpretations of the inscription N1 ̞βέΜΪΤNOM ̦Ωά΢έβΫ ̟Τ΢NOM ̞βέ[Μ]ΪΤΫ ̞βέΜΪΤNOM ̟ΧΠΤΫ

Metri 1958: 46; Brixhe 1988: 132–133, 136; Brixhe — Özsait 2013: 231; Brixhe 2016b: 78–79

̞βέΜΪΤNOM ̦Ωά΢έβΫ ̟Τ΢NOM ̞βέ[Μ]ΪΤΫ ̞βέΜΪΤΠDAT ̧ΠΤΫ

Zgusta 1957: 606–607, 1963: 480

̞βέΜΪΤNOM ̦Ωά΢έβΫ ̟Τ΢DAT ̞βέ[Μ]ΪΤΫ ̞βέΜΪΤΠDAT ̧ΠΤΫ

Zgusta 1957: 606–607, 1963: 480; Starke 1987: 256–258ɏ15

The segmentation ̞βέΜΪΤΠ ̧ΠΤΫ has the advantage that the patronym (unlike in the case of ̟ΧΠΤΫɏ16) is an attested name (̧Τ (N2, N29, and perhaps N39 [̧΢Τ]) / ̧ΤΫ (N9, N17, N29, N42)). The interpretation with two datives has two problems: First, as Brixhe 1988: 145 rightly pointed out, ̟Τ΢ cannot represent a dative since it is written with an eta, not with an epsilon, and these letters are not interchangeable, as I have just mentioned above (Brixhe 1987: 47–49, 2010: 232–233, cf. also 1988: 145). The second problem is (which is still there if the construction is interpreted with only one dative) that this translation requires one or two deceased, but the relief shows three persons. Thus Starke was forced to assume that the tombstones were not The first member (mws-) and the Cilician form (̦βά΢έΜΫ) require a separate investigation. It is a misspelling according to Ramsay 1895: 361 (implicitly); Brixhe — Drew-Bear — Kaya 1987: 149; and a misreading according to Brixhe — Özsait 2013: 231; cf. also Metri 1958: 47. Brixhe 2016b: 83 already transcribes it as ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ (cf. Brixhe 2016b: 120). 15 Similarly already Haas 1961: 61 (although segmenting ̞βέΜΪΤ ̟ΧΠΤΫ), and Lebrun 2012: 359, 360 (cautiously: “peut-être”). 16 N41 may show a name ̡ΧΠΫ that might be connected with this name, but its segmentation is not assured and the connection is problematic phonologically, cf. Brixhe 2016b: 40–41, 94. 13 14

34

Selected Pisidian problems and the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages

prepared individually but bought from a prepared set and the inscription was engraved only later. Although this is not impossible, it would definitely be strange and note that there is no other instance for a dative (his other example with ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΠ is false, see above). But even if a mistaken combination could have happened, it is obvious from a methodological point of view that those solutions should be preferred where the inscription and the depiction are consistent with each other.ɏ17 Since the tombstone has been lost, Starke also tries to undermine the credibility of Ramsay’s descriptions (1987: 257 n. 54), even though the problem at hand concerns only the depth of the incised letters, not the overall description or the distinctions between men and women.ɏ18 Finally, Starke’s family reconstruction (mother ̞βέΜΪΤ, child ̟Τ΢, daughter ̞βέΜΪΤΠ from the second marriage of ̞βέΜΪΤ) again absolutely contradicts the gravestone (two females and one male instead of the depicted two males and one female). Thus two possibilities remain: first is the reading and translation of Metri and Brixhe (̞βέΜΪΤNOM ̦Ωά΢έβΫ ̟Τ΢NOM ̞βέ[Μ]ΪΤΫ ̞βέΜΪΤNOM ̟ΧΠΤΫ), with the conclusion that ̞βέΜΪΤ is a male name, ̟Τ΢ is a female one (unless ̞βέΜΪΤ can be used for both genders [Brixhe 1988: 132–133, 136 also allowed that ̞βέΜΪΤ may be both a male and a female name, which was denied by Starke 1987: 257, because he believes this can happen only with Lallnamen and hypocoristic names], but one of the ̞βέΜΪΤs must be male in this case, too). A second possibility is that we choose the better segmentation but with nominatives (̞βέΜΪΤNOM ̦Ωά΢έβΫ ̟Τ΢NOM ̞βέ[Μ]ΪΤΫ ̞βέΜΪΤΠNOM ̧ΠΤΫ). Due to the formal difference between ̞βέΜΪΤ and ̞βέΜΪΤΠ this would probably mean that the males are ̞βέΜΪΤ and ̟Τ΢ and the female is ̞βέΜΪΤΠ (this gender attribution has already been suggested by Zgusta 1957: 606–607, 1963: 480). Both interpretations allow to explain the tombstone as a family tombstone (in the first case one of the ̞βέΜΪΤs is the father, the other one is the husband of ̟Τ΢;ɏ19 in the other case there is a father, ̞βέΜΪΤ, and his wife ̞βέΜΪΤΠ, and their child ̟Τ΢), thus a decision cannot be made on these grounds (although the latter solutions seems to me a more typical family tombstone and thus a more probable solution). But whichever solution is the correct one, it is clear that there is no assured attestation of dative in the Pisidian inscriptions.

5. The position of Pisidian among the Anatolian languages 5.1. The proposals until now Pisidian was not included in Oettinger 1978 on the internal classification of the Anatolian languages, because at that time he did not consider its Anatolian status proved (1978: 75 n. 9), and it is not included in the forthcoming paper of E. Rieken on Anatolian dialectology either, since it is too poorly attested. Nevertheless, some scholars formulated an opinion regarding this issue. The reliefs and the inscriptions published until 2016 were overall consistent (there might have been only one exception [Starke’s other example with ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΠ is false, see above], a Greek inscription (ਇІΟβΧ, ̧ΤΥІάέΪΜέΩΫ, ̧ΤΥІάέΪΜέΩΫ ή϶ІΫ, Brixhe — Gibson 1982: 157–158, No. 10]) with the depiction of two males and a female, which, however, may be explained by the simple assumption of a phonetically well motivated spelling mistake, i.e. ਇІΟβΧ instead of ਇΩΟФ, since the disappearance of the final nasal was no surprise at that time, Brixhe — Gibson 1982: 158 n. 50). Nevertheless, as an anonymous reviewer kindly reminded me, the new inscriptions published in Brixhe 2016 contain several inconsistent cases, that require further research. 18 The options mentioned in Ramsay 1895: 357 (̞βέΜΪΤΠΧΠΤΫ as an ethnic / political unit name or yet another genitive) is not compatible with the three deceased, since then only two names remain in nominative (̞βέΜΪΤ and ̟Τ΢). 19 Theoretically one could imagine that the two male ̞βέΜΪΤs were two husbands of ̟Τ΢, which is not impossible, but a shared tombstone does not sound very probable. 17

35

Zsolt Simon

First, Zgusta 1963: 480–481 claimed that Pisidian is a Luwic language (to use the modern terminology) and within this group it is more closely related to Lycian. He based his opinion on the geographical position of Pisidian, the origin of Pisidian names, and alleged parallels between the Lycian and Pisidian nominal paradigms, i.e. zero ending in nominative, the similarity of the genitive (both to be discussed below), and the similarity of the dative ending (Lycian -ije vs. Pisidian -e), but we have already seen that this dative ending does not exist (§ɏ4). Second, Neumann (1978: 874 n. 6, 880 n. 11) suggested cautiously (“dürfte”) that Pisidian and Sidetic stand closest to each other. He called attention to a passage in Livius (35, 13 “ad Pisidas, qui circa Sidam incolunt”) on the one hand, and to the zero ending of nominative singular and the -s ending of the genitive singular shared by Pisidian, Sidetic and partly Lycian on the other hand. Although the remark of Livius is highly interesting, nothing follows from it, since it does not specify the relationship of the Pisidians and the Sidetans, and we do not know anything about the history of this situation either. In other words, this is a very interesting possibility, but a linguistic analysis is still needed to confirm or to reject it. The morphological arguments will be dealt with in detail in the following. Third, Starke 1999 (cf. also 1997: 457, 468) argued in detail for the Luwian character of Pisidian, more precisely that it continues the Hieroglyphic Luwian dialect (or in current terminology, the Iron Age Luwian dialect). Probably this is the basis of the statements of Melchert 2003a: 10, 2003b: 177 (who believes that Pisidian may be a late form of Luwian or a distinct dialect, but it is impossible to determine) and Lebrun 2012: 353 (who considers Pisidian a “direct heiress” to Luwian), but neither of them quote their sources. Starke’s methodology is not clear, but he speaks about four “gemeinluwische” innovations shared by Pisidian, Lycian and Milyan, which implies a closer relationship, either in genetic or in areal sense as well as about two characteristics common with Hieroglyphic Luwian (1999: cols. 530, 532). The four innovations are as follows: a) Ŋ > e (Pisidian ) (also in Starke 1987: 256 n. 49) b) s > Ø /V_# c) n > Ø /i_ (leading to the syncretism of nom. and acc. sg. of the mutated stems: ̦΢ΧΤ (N31, N38), gen. ̦΢ΧΠΫ (N12)) (for ̦΢ΧΤ as an i-mutated stem and, accordingly, Pisidian as a Luwian language see already Starke 1987: 256); d) abandonment of the -‫ܔܔ‬i-conjugation Unfortunately, two of Starke's arguments are wrong, and one has a different explanation: First, it cannot be judged, if Pisidian abandoned the -‫ܔܔ‬i-conjugation or not, since not a single Pisidian verb form has been identified until now (the new inscriptions from Selge and Kesme and DeŜirmenözü [Brixhe 2016b: S1-S4 with refs.]), unknown at the time of Starke’s paper, may include verb forms but they are still unintelligible, for a segmentation attempt of S2 see now Adiego 2016). Second, the name ̦΢ΧΤ is obviously theophoric,ɏ20 but the i-mutation is not a derivational suffix, thus this -i- should have another explanation, for instance the ubiquitous -iya- adjectival / appurtenance suffix with the similarly ubiquitous contraction. Moreover, the genitive is attested twice as ̦΢ΧΤΫ (N31, N4), which points to an original i-stem (and to ̦΢ΧΠΫ as a probably secondary spelling / pronunciation; it is an inverse spelling according to Brixhe 1988: 144–145). But even if we assume for the sake of the argument that ̦΢ΧΤ is an i-mutated stem, nothing proves that the nominative and the accusative singular merged, since there is no identified accusative until now. Moreover, nothing points to the loss of a final /n/ after /i/ in Pisidian. 20 Brixhe — Drew-Bear — Kaya 1987: 150; Brixhe — Özsait 2001: 164; Lebrun 2012: 360 (contra Starke 1987: 256 n. 50a connecting it with Luwian compound names with Mana- as their first member).

36

Selected Pisidian problems and the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages

Third, there is no evidence for a general change ň > e in Pisidian. On the one hand, as we have seen above (§ɏ2), secondary is due to i-Umlaut (and the alpha/eta change probably has a completely different explanation, see §ɏ3). On the other hand, there are many Pisidian words that maintained their /a/ (cf. e.g. below under the discussion of the origin of the Pisidian vocabulary). Thus, only the loss of postvocalic final /s/ remains as an argument — but this is an argument that separates Pisidian from Hieroglyphic Luwian. Although this loss can be explained as secondary from Hieroglyphic Luwian final /-s/, of course, this can be done only if the relationship of the two languages is otherwise proved. The identification with Hieroglyphic Luwian is, however, based only on the following characteristics: a) There is a genitive case in Pisidian, thus it cannot continue Cuneiform Luwian (or with today’s terminology, Kizzuwatna Luwian); b) The contraction ya > i in the oblique cases of the i-stems is shared only by Hieroglyphic Luwian and Pisidian, see gen. ̞βέ[Μ]ΪΤΫ. The problem with these two arguments is that they are not characteristic enough. The genitive case has been retained in all the Luwic languages, save Kizzuwatna Luwian, thus it does not tell us too much about the position of Pisidian. This specific contraction is just yet another case of the widespread -iya- > -i- contraction and thus, again, it is not helpful. Finally, Starke 1987: 259 argued that the Pisidian word for ‘girl’ is an i-stem and not astem, as in Lycian, thus it stands closer to Cuneiform Luwian (but not continuing, as per above). This is based on his identification of ̞βέΜΪΤ as the Pisidian word for ‘daughter’ (Starke 1987: 258–259, 1990: 347; followed by Schürr 1999: 25 [who later retracted it] and Lebrun 2012: 360). However, this identification is very probably wrong, since this name must refer to a male, at least once (see §ɏ4 above, inscription N1) and also appears in the compound name ̪ΤΞΠΪΟΩέΜΪΤΫ (five times, N37), referring exclusively to males in papponyms (see already Schürr 2006: 1560 n. 2). Note also, that a derivation from Proto-Indo-European *dhuégh2tr / dhugh2tr- ‘daughter’ (on the form see Kloekhorst 2011) is also problematic phonologically, due to the initial consonant as well as the different vocalism, and Starke has not provided any explanation for these. In other words, this word cannot be used as an argument the way Starke did. But even if it means ‘girl’, it shows the suffix -i- from -iya-, which does not exclude the possibility of an a-stem. To sum up, there is no argument for identifying Pisidian as a daughter language of Hieroglyphic Luwian. Actually, if someone looks at the map this is not surprising at all: Pisidian was spoken a long way away from assured Luwian speaking territories (separated by Lycaonia), thus the question whether Pisidian originates from Hieroglyhic Luwian does not even come up. 5.2. The material The classification of Pisidian must obviously remain very tentative due to the lack of evidence. This is especially true because the sparse evidence at hand does not allow using the classical method, i.e. detecting shared exclusive (morphological) innovations. Currently we can work only with shared isoglosses that admittedly have lower demonstrative value. In the following these isoglosses will be presented from the field of inflectional and derivational morphology as well as historical phonology (summarized in a table at the end). Within the inflectional morphology, the zero nominative and the sibilant genitive ending in the singular are paralleled by Milyan, Carian and Sidetic (note that the dative singular and the i-mutation are not attested in Pisidian, as per above and §ɏ4). While the prehistory of the nominative is beyond doubt (loss of final -s), this is not the case with the genitive, except that 37

Zsolt Simon

the final -s of the genitive cannot continue an earlier final -s, i.e. it must originate in *-sX.ɏ21 Melchert repeatedly assumed the suffix of the genitival adjective to be *-asso/i-, where the deletion of the final -s would have been followed by the deletion of the last unaccented vowel (1994a: 44–45, 1994b: 127, similarly but cautiously Hajnal 2000: 182); Melchert 2012: 278 n. 10 later allowed the possibility of the genitive ending *-oso as well. This possibility was chosen already by Brixhe 1988: 142–143, who rightly pointed out the lack of agreement between the possessor and possessed which would be a requirement in the case of the genitival adjective (cf. also Brixhe 2016a: 33). Nevertheless, Brixhe — Özsait 2001: 161–162 (cf. also Brixhe 2016a: 33) suggested yet another source, the genitive ending attested in Cuneiform Luwian -ašši, Hieroglyphic Luwian /-as(s)i/, Carian -Ż, Sidetic -s, and probably reflecting PIE *-osyo (Melchert 2012: 278–279; cf. also Yakubovich 2010: 39–45). It is hard to choose between these alternatives from a Pisidian point of view, since both are possible, as long as we do not know more about the loss of the final vowels in the prehistory of Pisidian. As for the derivational morphology, the suffix *-iya- in -i- is simply too ubiquitous and the suffix -at- is attested also in Lydian (cf. above, §ɏ3), thus, again, it is not helpful.ɏ22 If the analysis of ̞βέΜΪΤΠ as a derivation from ̞βέΜΪΤ suggested above (§ɏ4) turns out to be correct, then there is a suffix -e- too, whose prehistory, however, is completely unclear at the moment. While the historical phonology of Pisidian shows some widespread and thus not helpful changes (the contraction of -uwa- and -iya-), as well as specifically Pisidian changes (*-nt- > -d-; the epenthetic vowel in ouper-, piger-, for the identification of this change see Adiego 2012: 20), there are some more restricted changes shared by other Anatolian languages, which can be summarized as follows (cf. Table 2): Table 2. Shared isoglosses of Pisidian Pisidian

Milyan

Lycian

Carian

Sidetic

nom. sg. *-s > -Ø

x

–

x

x

gen. sg. –s

x

–

–

–

syncope of an unaccented vowel

x

x

?

?

a > e Umlaut by /i/

x

x

x

–

laryngeal *k-, -g-

x

x

–

?

no lenition in the suffix -ti-

x

x

?

?

a) the presumably unaccented first vowel was syncopated (just like in Lycian, Milyan and, perhaps, in Carian) — or at least the words of these languages originating in *hant- share the same history; b) -i- caused Umlaut (a > e), just like in Lycian and Carian; c) Starke 1987: 258 n. 58, cf. 1990: 642 claimed that the initial laryngeal is continued in Pisidian as . While this is possible, one must mention Melchert’s alternative view (2013: 35), Starke 1999: col. 532 suggested the restoration of the genitive ending, which can be excluded only if the attested Pisidian ending can be derived regularly from an earlier genitive ending, and surely this is the case, whichever suggestion applies. 22 One may, however, object that according to Rieken apud Miller 2013: 121 Fig. 3 and Rieken (forthcoming) Lydian was a Luwic language, thus this suffix is a feature of the Luwic languages (for an opposing view on Lydian see e.g. Yakubovich 2010: 6). Unfortunately, the relationship of Lydian with the Luwic languages requires further research. 21

38

Selected Pisidian problems and the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages

who sees a secondary assimilation in it: *kd- > gd-. If the suggestion to connect the first part of ̩ήΞΩΤΟΤΫ (N37, 3x) with the Luwic element u‫ܔܔ‬a- is correct (Simon 2014: 185), then it shows that one of the reflexes of the intervocalic laryngeals was . Since this is the voiced counterpart, one expects *k- in initial position, exactly what Melchert proposed. Interestingly enough it would show a laryngeal system identical to that of Lycian, but different from Carian (cf. Simon 2011; Brosch 2016). d) Pisidian did not lenite the consonant of the suffix -ti- (just like Lycian). Finally, the lexicon also calls for some comments. Set aside the Lallnamen, the theophoric names, the foreign names, and the names with unintelligible components, the remaining ones show a typical Luwic vocabulary:ɏ23 ̝ΟΜΝΜ / ̝ΟΜΝΩΫ ̝ΟΜάΜΫ ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ ̦ΩήΜ (N34, N38) / ̦ΩήΩΫ (N23, N32) ̩ήΞΩΤΟΤΫ ̩ήÞΠΪ-ΟΩέΜΤΫ (N13) ̩ήΪΡΠΫ (N34 [2x], cf. also ̛έΩήΪΡ?Π (N33)) ̪ΤΞΠΪ-ΟΩέΜΪΤΫ

< *hantawa- (as per above, §ɏ2) < *hantassa/i- (as per above, §ɏ2) < ‫ܔ‬antawat(i)- (as per above, §ɏ2) < muwa- (Brixhe — Drew-Bear — Kaya 1987: 159) < u‫ܔܔ‬a- (Simon 2014: 185) < upra- (as per above, §ɏ5.2) < urazza- ‘greatest’ (suggested here, for this meaning see Yakubovich 2013, esp. 160–161) < *pi‫ܔ‬ra- (as per above, §ɏ5.2)

6. Conclusions 1. There is no evidence for a specific connection with Hieroglyphic Luwian (contra Starke). Although most of the features could be explained as late, secondary developments from Hieroglyphic Luwian, the non-lenited consonant in the suffix -ti- argues against it, not to mention the geographic distance. 2. Nothing supports that Pisidian has anything special to do with Sidetic (contra Neumann), thus the remark of Livius seems to have a different background. The only assured shared feature is the loss of final -s, but this happens in Milyan and Carian as well. 3. It is probable that Pisidian belongs to the Luwic subgroup (as was already suggested by Zgusta). Nevertheless, lacking enough evidence about the morphology of Pisidian, this is based only on its clear Luwic vocabulary, more precisely, on the Pisidian names that originate in Luwic vocabulary.ɏ24 4. There are two possibilities regarding its position within the Luwic languages: a) a member of the Carian — Lycian — Milyan — Pisidian dialect continuum, where the fine differences could be exemplified by the different reflexes of the genitive ending as well as those of the laryngeals; Note that ̩ήΜ (42) is a Lallname “Wa” (with Brixhe — Özsait 2001: 169) and not the Luwian word wawa/i‘cow’ (contra Lebrun 2012: 360). A full analysis of the entire Pisidian onomastic material is still a desideratum. 24 In other words, there is still a theoretical possibility that the underlying language is not Luwic or not Anatolian or not even Indo-European that was later culturally or linguistically Luwicized (in the former case these names would show only the emulation of the Luwic culture and not the underlying language, in the latter case the names would represent only a borrowed vocabulary). Nevertheless, a non-Indo-European language is not expected in Pisidia in the first centuries AD. As a non-Anatolian language only Phrygian could be assumed, but this is morphologically not possible, since the Phrygian genitives are quite different. Thus the only real alternative is a non-Luwic Anatolian language. 23

39

Zsolt Simon

b) considering that practically all features are identical to those of Milyan, one may entertain the idea that Pisidian is a late successor of Milyan and both differences (the rise of the epenthetic vowels in ouper- and piger-, and *-nt- > -d-) are only due to a later development in Pisidian. Lacking substantial Pisidian material it is obviously impossible to choose between the alternatives and prudence dictates to opt for the dialect continuum. One can only hope that the recently found longer Pisidian texts will improve the understanding of the position of Pisidian among the Anatolian languages.

Acknowledgements

This paper was written in the framework of the research project “Los ‘dialectos luvicos’ del grupo anatolio indoeuropeo: aproximaciones genéticas y areales” (FFI2012–32672) financed by the Ministerio de Economía y Competitividad of Spain. I am very grateful to Elisabeth Rieken and Diether Schürr for sharing their manuscripts with me as well as to Gabriella Juhász for correcting my English.

Literature Adiego, Ignacio-J. 1992. Recherches cariennes: essai d’amélioration du systeme de J. D. Ray. Kadmos 31: 25–39. Adiego, Ignacio J. 2007. The Carian Language. HdO 86. Leiden — Boston: Brill. Adiego, Ignasi-Xavier. 2012. Minima pisidica. Nota sobre la estructura de una inscripción pisidia de Timbriada. In: G. Borghello, V. Orioles (eds.). Per Roberto Gusmani. Studi in ricordo 2.: 17–26. Udine: Forum. Adiego, Ignasi-Xavier. 2016. The longest Pisidian inscription (Kesme 2). Paper held at ‘Luwic’ Dialects: Inheritance and Diffusion. Barcelona, 9 March 2016. Allen, W. Sidney. 19873. Vox Graeca. A Guide to the Pronunciation of Classical Greek. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Borchhardt, Jürgen, Günter Neumann, Klaus Schulz. 1975. Vier pisidische Grabstelen aus Sofular. Kadmos 14: 68–72. Brixhe, Claude. 19872. Essai sur le grec anatolien au début de notre ére. Nancy: Presses Universitaires. Brixhe, Claude. 1988. La langue des inscriptions epichoriques de Pisidie. In: Y. L. Arbeitman (ed.). A Linguistic Happening in Memory of Ben Schwartz: 131–155. Louvain-la-Neuve: Peeters. Brixhe, Claude. 2010. Linguistic Diversity in Asia Minor during the Empire: Koine and Non-Greek Languages. In: E. J. Bakker (ed.): A Companion to the Ancient Greek Language: 228–252. Malden — Oxford — Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell. Brixhe, Claude. 2016a. Au long de l’Eurymédon. Le pisidien. Res Antiquae 13: 29–36. Brixhe, Claude. 2016b. Stèles et langue de Pisidie. Études anciennes 61. Nancy — Paris: A.D.R.A. — De Boccard. Brixhe, Claude, Elsa Gibson. 1982. Monuments from Pisidia in the Rahmi Koç Collection. Kadmos 21: 130–169. Brixhe, Claude, Mehmet Özsait. 2001. Nouvelles inscriptions pisidiennes et grecques de Timbriada. Kadmos 40: 155–176. Brixhe, Claude, Mehmet Özsait. 2013. Course moyen d’Eurymedon: apparition du pisidien. In: H. Bru, G. Labarre (eds.). L’Anatolie des peuples, des cités et des cultures (IIe millénaire av. J.-C. — Ve siècle ap. J.-C.). Colloque international de Besançon — 26–27 Novembre 2010 2. Approches locales et regionals: 231–250. Besançon: Presses universitaires de Franche-Comté. Brixhe, Claude, Thomas Drew-Bear, Durmuƀ Kaya. 1987. Nouveaux monuments de Pisidie. Kadmos 26: 122–170. Brosch, Cyril. 2016. Zur Vertretung der Laryngale im Karischen. In: H. Marquardt, S. Reichmuth, J. V. García Trabazo (eds.). Anatolica et indogermanica. Studia linguistica in honorem Johannis Tischler septuagenarii dedicata: 7–12. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachen und Literaturen der Universität Innsbruck Bereich Sprachwissenschaft. Haas, Otto. 1961. Armenier und Phryger. Linguistique Balkanique 3/2: 29–65. Hajnal, Ivo. 1994. Die lykischen a-Stämme: Zum Werdegang einer Nominalklasse. In: J. E. Rasmussen (ed.). In honorem Holger Pedersen. Kolloquium der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft vom 25. bis 28. März in Koppenhagen: 135–171. Wiesbaden: Reichert. 40

Selected Pisidian problems and the position of Pisidian within the Anatolian languages

Hajnal, Ivo. 1995. Der lykische Vokalismus. Methode und Erkenntnisse der vergleichenden anatolischen Sprachwissenschaft, angewandt auf das Vokalsystem einer Kleincorpussprache. Graz: Leykam. Hajnal, Ivo. 2000. Der adjektivische Genitivausdruck der luwischen Sprachen (im Lichte neuerer Erkenntnisse). In: M. Ofitsch, Chr. Zinko (eds.). 125 Jahre Indogermanistik in Graz. Festband anläßlich des 125jährigen Bestehens der Forschungsrichtung “Indogermanistik” an der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz: 159–184. Graz: Leykam. Houwink ten Cate, Philo H. J. 1961. The Luwian Population Groups of Lycia and Cilicia Aspera during the Hellenistic Period. DMOA 10. Leiden: Brill. Kloekhorst, Alwin. 2011. The accentuation of the PIE word for ‘daughter’. In: T. Pronk, R. Derksen (eds.). Accent Matters. Papers on Balto-Slavic Accentology. Studies in Slavic and General Linguistics 37.: 235–243. Leiden: Brill. König, Friedrich Wilhelm. 1936. Die Stele von Xanthos I. Metrik und Inhalt. Klotho — Historische Studien zu feudalen und vorfeudalen Welt 1. Wien: Gerold. Laroche, Emmanuel. 1966. Les noms des hittites. Paris: Klincksieck. Lebrun, René. 1983. Notes d’onomastique gréco-asianique. Hethitica 5: 63–74. Lebrun, René. 2012. Le sidétique et le pisidien. Res Antiquae 9: 353–368. Melchert, H. Craig. 1994a. Anatolian Historical Phonology. LSIE 3. Amsterdam — Atlanta: Rodopi. Melchert, H. Craig. 1994b. Anatolian. In: F. Bader (ed.). Langues indo-européennes: 121–136. Paris: CNRS. Melchert, H. Craig. 2003a. Introduction. In: id. (ed.). The Luwians. HdO 68.: 1–7. Leiden — Boston: Brill. Melchert, H. Craig. 2003b. Language. In: id. (ed.). The Luwians. HdO 68.: 170–210. Leiden — Boston: Brill. Melchert, H. Craig. 2012. Genitive Case and Possessive Adjective in Anatolian. In: G. Borghello, V. Orioles (eds.). Per Roberto Gusmani. Studi in ricordo 2.: 273–286. Udine: Forum. Melchert, H. Craig. 2013. Naming Practices in Second- and First-Millennium Western Anatolia. In: R. Parker (ed.). Personal Names in Ancient Anatolia. Proceedings of the British Academy 191.: 31–49. London: British Academy. Metri, Pino. 1958. Le iscrizioni pisidiche di Sofoular. Archivio Glottologico Italiano 43: 42–54. Miller, Jared L. 2013. Hititler Dönemi’nde Anadolu’da Halklar ve Diller / Peoples and Languages in Anatolia during the Hittite Period. In: M. DoŜan-Alparslan, M. Alparslan (eds.). Hititler. Bir Anadolu đmparatorluŚu / Hittites. An Anatolian Empire. Anadolu UygarlÈklarÈ / Anatolian Civilizations 3.: 120–131. Ĕstanbul: YapÈ Kredi. Neumann, Günter. 1978. Die sidetische Schrift. Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa Classe di lettere e filosofia. Serie III. 8/3: 869–886. Neumann, Günter, Elisabeth Fuhrmann. 2005. Zwei epichorische Inschriften aus dem pisidischen Bergland. Kadmos 44: 7–18. Oettinger, Norbert. 1978. Die Gliederung des anatolischen Sprachgebietes. Zeitschrift für vergleichende Sprachforschung 92: 74–92. Ramsay, W. M. 1895. Inscriptions en langue pisidienne. Revue des Universités du Midi 1: 353–362. Rieken, Elisabeth. Forthcoming. The dialectology of Anatolian. In: M. Fritz, B. D. Joseph, J. Klein (eds.). Comparative Indo-European Linguistics. An International Handbook of Language Comparison and the Reconstruction of IndoEuropean. HSK. Rieken, Elisabeth, David Sasseville. 2014. Social Status as a Semantic Category of Anatolian: The Case of PIE *-wo-. In: H. C. Melchert, E. Rieken, Th. Steer (eds.): Munus amicitiae. Norbert Oettinger a collegis et amicis dicatum: 302–314. Ann Arbor — New York: Beech Stave. Schürr, Diether. 1999. Gräko-lykisch ÞΤΜέΪΜ. Die Sprache 41: 24–38. Schürr, Diether. 2001. Karische und lykische Sibilanten. Indogermanische Forschungen 106: 94–121. Schürr, Diether. 2006. Elf lydische Etymologien. In: Raffaella Bombi et al. (eds.). Studi linguistici in onore di Roberto Gusmani: 1569–1587. Alessandria: dell’Orso. Schürr, Diether. Forthcoming. Vom Aussterben der luwischen ziti-Namen, lykisch Ipresida und dem Berg Imbros bei Kaunos. Simon, Zsolt. 2011. Die Fortsetzung der Laryngale im Karischen. In: Th. Krisch, Th. Lindner (eds.). Indogermanistik und Linguistik im Dialog. Akten der XIII. Fachtagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft vom 21. bis 27. September 2008 in Salzburg: 538–547. Wiesbaden: Reichert. Simon, Zsolt. 2014. Review of G. Borghello, V. Orioles (eds.). Per Roberto Gusmani. Studi in ricordo 1–2. Incontri Linguistici 37: 183–188. Starke, Frank. 1987. Die Vertretungen von idg. *dhugh2tér- „Tochter“ in den luwischen Sprachen und ihre Stammbildung. Zeitschrift für vergleichende Sprachforschung 100: 243–269. 41

Zsolt Simon

Starke, Frank. 1990. Untersuchung zur Stammbildung des keilschrift-luwischen Nomens. StBoT 31. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Starke, Frank. 1997. Troia im Kontext des historisch-politischen und sprachlichen Umfeldes Kleinasiens im 2. Jahrtausend. Studia Troica 7: 447–487. Starke, Frank. 1999. Luwisch. DNP 7: cols. 528–534. Sundwall, Johannes. 1913. Die einheimischen Namen der Lykier nebst einem Verzeichnis kleinasiatischer Namenstämme. Klio Beiheft XI. Leipzig: Dieterich. Vernet Pons, Mariona. 2012. The Etymology of Goliath in the Light of Carian PN Wljat/Wliat: A New Proposal. Kadmos 51: 143–164. Yakubovich, Ilya. 2010. Sociolinguistics of the Luvian Language. BSIELL 2. Leiden — Boston: Brill. Yakubovich, Ilya. 2013. The degree of comparison in Luwian. Indogermanische Forschungen 118: 155–168. Zgusta, Ladislav. 1957. Die pisidischen Inschriften. Archiv Orientální 25: 570–610. Zgusta, Ladislav. 1963. Die epichorische pisidische Anthroponymie und Sprache. Archiv Orientální 31: 470–482. Zgusta, Ladislav. 1964. Kleinasiatische Personennamen. Prag: Tschechoslowakische Akademie der Wissenschaften.

ɹ˙˕˞ ʞˌ˖˙˗. ʐ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢˁ˲ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˘ ˥ ˋˆ˥ ˢˋ˨˪ˋ ˨˧ˋˊ˘ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ɳ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˻ ˪˧˘ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ˻ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˘ ˘˲ ˅༤˘̀ˣ˘ˋ ˣˁ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘̀ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˅ˣ˫˪˧˘ ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ʨ˪˘ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ˻ ˪ˁ˜˥˅˻: ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘ˋ ༤˘˵ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˢˋˣ˘ ̝ΟΠΝΠέΤΫ (˧˥ˊ. ˦ˁˊˋː) ˘ ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˨ ˣ˘ˢ ˘ˢˋˣ; ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘ˋ ༤˘˵ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˢˋˣ˘ ̦Ωήά΢έΜ; ˅˥˦˧˥˨ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˖ˁ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ ༤˘ ˅ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˢ ˊˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˦ˁˊˋː. ɯ˅˪˥˧ ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˘˙ — ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜, ˣ˥ ˣˋ ˦˥˪˥ˢ˥˜ ˘ˋ˧˥ˆ༤˘˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥, ˁ ༤˘˄˥ ˵ˁ˨˪˼ ˜ˁ˧˘˙˨˜˥-༤˘˜˘˙˨˜˥-ˢ˘༤˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˊ˘ˁ༤ˋ˜˪ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˜˥ˣ˪˘ˣ˫˫ˢˁ, ༤˘˄˥ ˦˥˖ˊˣ̀̀ ˱˥˧ˢˁ ˢ˘༤˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥. ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: ˦˘˨˘ˊ˘˙˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜, ༤˫˅˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘, ˘ˋ˧˥ˆ༤˘˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘˙, ˢ˘༤˘˙˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜, ˘ˢˋˣˁ ˨˥˄˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻ˋ.

42

José Virgilio García Trabazo University of Santiago de Compostela; [email protected]

Über luw./heth. dMar(ku)waya- ‘Dunkle Gottheit(en), Unterweltgottheit(en)’ und ai. mrճgá- ‘Wildtier’ als Reflexe schamanistischer idg. Vorstellungen The theonyms Luwian dMarwaya- / Hittite dMarkuwaya- ‘Dark Deities, Deities of the Netherworld' are compared with Old Indian mr๗gá- ‘wild beast’. For both linguistic traditions an Indo-European etymology is proposed as *m(e)r-gu๞(h2)-ó- ‘walking in obscurity’ or ‘going to disappearance’. The proposal is checked with the parallel of IE *su๞eh2l-gu๞(h2)-ó- > OInd. svargá ‘heaven' as part of an ancient Indo-European poetic / cosmological contrast. Keywords: Luwian, Hittite, Old Indian (Vedic), Indo-European, Poetic Language, Etymology.

Der vorliegende Beitragɏ1 stellt ein Versuch zur etymologischen Deutung des Theonyms Luw. dMarwaya- / heth. dMarkuwaya- ‘Dunkle Gottheit(en), Unverweltgottheit(en)’ dar. Unserer Vorschlag kombiniert sowohl die linguistische und die anthropologisch-religionsgeschichtliche Perspektiven. 1. Luw. dMarwaya- / heth. dMarkuwaya‘Dunkle Gottheit(en), Unterweltgottheit(en)’: Belege und Bestimmungɍ2 Die Belegstelle des betreffenden Theonym ist doch nicht sehr unfangreich. Wir finden es in folgenden Stellen: Keilschriftluwisch: N.Pl.C. mar-u๞a-a-in-zi KUB 54.65 ii 11’. D-L.Pl. dmar-u๞a-i๞a-an-za KUB 24.9 ii 27’ (+ dupl. 24.11 ii 8’); Ritual der Malli gegen Behexung; cf. Melchert, CLL (1993: 142); Tischler, HEG 5–6, L-M (1990: 152 f.). Hethitisch: Dat.Pl. DINGIR.MEŠMar-ku-u๞a-i๞a-[aš KUB 54.78 Rs. 6. (Dat.Pl.?) dMar-ku-u๞a-i๞a-aš KUB 7.38 Vs. 6; cf. Tischler, HEG 5–6, L-M (1990: 139). Hieroglyphenluwisch: Nom.Pl. (DEUS)mara/i-wa/i-i-zi-i KULULU 2, C 1 § 6; Hawkins, CHLI (2000: 487–488, Plate 272); zur neuen Transliteration, vgl. Hawkins (2004); cf. Luwian Corpus (07.03.2016, 16:55). Nom.Sg. Adj. (“DEUS”)ma-ru-wá/í-wá/i-ni-sa KAYSERĔ § 8; CHLI 472–475 (Plates 262–263); cf. Kloekhorst, EDHIL (2008: 562), s.v. maru๞Ŋi- ‘to blacken’ (?). Betrachten wir jetzt einige der wichtigsten bzw. bedeutendsten Textbelege des Terminus: 1 2

Im Rahmen des Forschungsprojektes FFI2015-68467-C2-C-P, AEI/FEDER, UE verfasst. Belege: vgl. van Gessel (1998: 299–300) und Haas (1994: 468).

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/1 (2017) • Pp. 43–50 • © The authors, 2017

José Virgilio García Trabazo

(1) KUB 54.65 ii 9’-13’ (+ KUB 7.54 iii 2–9) (Hethitisch): (9’) nu-za a-da-an-zi nu EN.SISKUR a-ku-u๞a-a[n-na ...Ɏ] (= A iii 2) / (10’) nu dI-i๞a-ar-ri-in 3-ŠÚ e-ku-uz[-zi ...Ɏ] (= A 3–4) / (11’) (no § in B) ŠA dI-i๞a-ar-ri DINGIR.MEŠmar-u๞a-a-in-zi (var. [ŠA dI-i๞a-a]r-ri d7.7.BI) [Ɏx-ŠU e-ku-zi] (= A 5–6) / (12’) EGIR-an-ta-ma nam-ma dI-i๞a-ar-ri-in 1-ŠU [Ɏ...Ɏ] / [Ɏ...Ɏ] x.UD ekuzi (= A 7–9) “They eat. The client [requests (?)] something to drink. He drinks (to) dYarri three times. [ɎHe drinks (?) (to)] the marwai-gods of Yarri (var.: the Heptad of Yarri)] [Ɏ…Ɏ] times. And Afterwards [he drinks (?) (to)] Yarri once more. He drinks (to) [Ɏ…Ɏ]” (Güterbock & Hoffner, CHD L-N, 1980: 201).

Vgl. die Übersetzung der Zeile 11 bei Tischler, HEG (1990: 152): ‘trinkt den m.-Göttern des Yarri x-mal’; mit weiterer Bibliographie (ibidem, 152 f.). (2) Tabal, KULULU 2 (Hieroglyphenluwisch): (§ 5a) (“SA4”)sa-ni-ti-pa-wa/i-mu-u |HWI-sà-´ (b) ni-pa-wa/i-sa |MAGNUS+ra/i-za-sa (c) ni-pa-wa/i-sa || [x-x]-sati-sa (d) ni-pa-wa/i-sa |HWI-sà-pa |[HWI?]-sà-´ |CAPUT-ti-sà (§ 6) |wa/i-ru-ta |(DEUS)sà-ta-si-i-zi || |(DEUS)pa?+ra/i-wa/i-i-zi-i

|(“*256”)tà-sá-za

|a-ta

|“CRUS”-tu

(§

7)

|wa/i-ru-ta

||

|á-pa-sá-´

|(“SCALPRUM.SIGILLUM”) sa-s[a]-za-´ |tu-wa/i-tu-u |á-pa-sa-na DOMUS-ni-i “(He) who shall disturb me, whether he (be) a great man, or he (be) a [little?] man, or whatsoever man he (be), for him may Santa’s marwainzi-gods attack the memorial, and for him may they set their seal on his house!” (Transkription und Übersetzung nach Hawkins 2000: 488).

1. d ¦ni-pa-wa/i-sa ¦hwa/i-sà-pa ¦‹hwa/i?›-sà-’ ¦CAPUT-ti-sà C 1 § 6 ¦wa/i-ru-ta ¦(DEUS)sà-ta-si-i-zi ¦¦ {¦(DEUS)mara/i-wa/ii-zi-i} ¦“*256”-tà-sá-za ¦a-ta ¦“CRUS”-tu 2 § 7 ¦wa/i-ru-ta ¦¦ ¦á-pa-sá-’ ¦(“SCALPRUM.SIGILLUM”) sa-s[a]-za-’ ¦tu-wa/i-tu-u ¦á-pa-sa-na DOMUS-ni-i (Transkription desselben Stückes nach dem Luwian Corpusɏ3, nachgeschlagen am 07.03.2016).

Nicht sicher zu deuten — aber wahrscheinlich doch eine Ableitung des MarwayaTheonym — ist die folgende adjektivische Bildung (“DEUS”) marwawani-: (3) Tabal, KAYSERI (Hieroglyphenluwisch): (§ 6) [ní-pa]-wá/i [... (B) / (§ 7) [...Ɏ] |(DEUS)TONITRUS-hu-z[a]-sa4 |á-pa-sa4-ri+i |ASCIA(-) na-pa-[ri+]i (C) |(“*273”)tu-pi-ti-í / (§ 8) |(“DEUS”)ma-ru-wá/í-wá/í-ni-sa-pa-wá/í-tu-ta (“DEUS”)ni-ka-[…-s]a[… (D) …Ɏ]x-ru / 4. (§ 9) |wá/í-tu-u [… || …] / (§ 10) í-sà-tara/i-la-ti-pa-wá/í-tu-wa/i-t[a … (C) …] / (§ 11) wá/í-tá-´ |(DEUS)ku+AVISpa-pa-sa-´ |POST-na |FORTIS-wa/i-i / (§ 12) |á-ta(B)-há-s[i-zi]-pa-wá/í-na |DEUS-ni-zi-´ |á-ta-[…]-i-zi (A) [AR]HA-´ |á-tà-u “or(?) … / [him] Tarhunzas shall smite with his axe, / for him may Maruwa-ean Nika[ruha]s […], / and for him [Ɏ…Ɏ] [Ɏ…Ɏ], / and for him they [shall come up(?)] from their throne, / [and him] Kubaba shall attack behind, / and him may the gods of the ATAHA-, the … (ones), eat up.” (Transkription und Übersetzung nach Hawkins 2000: 473).

Zur Bestimmung des Wesens der Mar(k)uwai๞a-Gottheiten als “Gottheiten in der Tiefe der Erde” spielt wahrscheinlich der obengenannte Ritual der Malli gegen Behexung (KUB 24.9) eine bedeutende Rolle, indem diese Gottheiten als in der Tiefe der Erde wohnend beschrieben werden.ɏ4 web-corpora.net/LuwianCorpus/search/ (Stand am November 2016). Vgl. Tischler, HED (1990: 152): “Dem Nom. (funktionell Akk.) Pl. mar-u๞a-a-in-zi entspricht nämlich ein Dat. Pl. (vergöttlicht) mar-u๞a-i๞a-an-za im Ritual der Malli gegen Behexung. Dort (KUB 29.9 ii 27’) bricht die weise Frau Brot für diese Gottheiten, die – wie aus dem Kontext hervorgeht – in der Tiefe der Erde hausen: 1 NINDA.SIG A-NA dMar-u๞a-i๞a-an (Dupl. 11 ii 8’ dMar-u๞a-i๞a-an-za) pár-ši-i๞a ...”. 3 4

44

Über luw./heth. dMar(ku)waya- und ai. mr๗gá- als Reflexe schamanistischer idg. Vorstellungen

2. Altindisch mrճgá- ‘Wildtier’ als idg. *m(e)r-guչ(h2)-ó- ‘Dunkelheit-läufer’ oder ‘der in das Schwinden gehende’. Kontrast mit *suչeh2l-guչ(h2)-ó- > svar-gá- ‘Himmel’ Anderswo haben wir vor kurzemɏ5 eine neue etymologische Deutung zu Altindisch mr๗gá- (m.) ‘Wildtier, Wild, im Wald lebendes Tier, Antilope, u.a.’ (RV+) vorgeschlagen, ein Wort der, samt der bedeutenden Ableitung mŊrga- m. ‘Weg, Pfad, Fährte, Methode’ (RV-Kh.+) — wohl ursprünglich *‘Wildpfad’ — eine betrachtende Rolle in der vedischen und sanskritischen Tradition gespielt hat. Nach dem Wörterbuch von M. Mayrhoferɏ6 ist das Wort noch etymologisch unerklärt. Trotzdem, wir sind der Meinung, daß verschiedene Belege des Wortes im R‫׎‬gvedaɏ7 eine neue Etymologie erlauben. Einige der wichtigsten wären die Folgende: (4) RV 1.38.5: mŊя vo mr๗gó ná yávase / jaritŊя bhƉd ájoࡆyia‫ ܒ‬/ pathŊя yamásya gŊd úpa “Verhüte, daß euer Sänger unwillkommen wird / wie ein wildes Tier auf der Weide, / daß er auf dem *Pfade Yamas* hin wandelt.” (Witzel & Gotŷ 2007: 74) “Let your singer (, o Maruts,) not be displeasing to you, like a wild animal in a pasture, and let him not go along the *path of Yama*.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 146)

(5) RV 1.105.7: aháગ só asmi yá‫ ܒ‬purŊя / suté vádŊmi kŊяni cit / tám mŊ viyanti Ŋdhíyo / vŷ๗ko ná tr๗ࡆয়ájam mr๗gáગ / vittám me asyá rodasŢ “Ich bin der, der früher / über den ausgespreßten (Soma) dies und jenes redete. / Diesen, mich, verfolgen die Sorgen / wie ein Wolf das durstige Wild. / — Wisset von mir in dieser Lage, ihr beiden *Weltflächen*!” (Witzel & Gotŷ 2007: 186) “I am one who used (always) to speak some (speeches) at the pressing. But cares (now) pursue this same me, like a wolf a thirsting wild beast. — Take heed of this (speech) of mine, you two *world-halves*.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 251)

(6) RV 1.190.4: asyá Żlóko divŢяyate pr๗thivyŊяm / átyo ná yaગsad yakࡆabhŷ๗d vícetŊ‫ ܒ‬/ mr๗gŊяয়Ŋગ ná hetáyo yánti cemŊя / bŷ๗haspáter áhimŊyŊm่ abhí dyƉяn “Sein Ruhm zieht am Himmel, auf der Erde dahin. / Wie ein Rennpferd soll der genau Bewußte, der die Wundererscheinung trägt, soll ihn (den Ruhm) lenken, / wenn diese Geschosse des Br‫׎‬haspati, wie (die Geschosse) für Wildtiere, / auf die *Himmel(swelten)* gehen, wo die erstaunliche Fähigkeit der Schlangen ist.” (Witzel & Gotŷ 2007: 344) “When his signal-call speeds in heaven and on earth like a steed, the discriminating one [= Br‫׎‬haspati?], bringing wondrous apparitions, will control it, like a steed— / as also when these missiles [= words] of Br‫׎‬haspati, like the charges of wild beasts, go to the *heavens* that possess serpentine wiles.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 396)

(7) RV 7.87.6: áva síndhuગ váruয়o dyaúr iva sthŊd / drapsó na Żvetó mr๗gás túviࡆmŊn / gambhŢráŻaગso rájaso vimŊяna‫ ܒ‬/ supŊrákࡆatra‫ ܒ‬sató asyá rŊяjŊ “Varuੇa steigt hinab in das Meer wie der Tag, wie der weiße Tropfen, das kraftvolle Tier. In tiefen Worten (geprießen), *über den Raum erhaben*, führt der König alles dessen, was ist, seine Herrschaft zu gutem Ende.” (Geldner 1951: II 259) García Trabazo 2016; vgl. auch García Trabazo 2016a. Mi., nu., dard., ni., pŌ. maga- ‘deer’ (schon RV ºmagaº ‘deer’ […], magga- m. Pfad, Weg, usw. […]. - Iir., jav. mƕrƕΎa- m. […], np. murΎ, oss. mar‫ ܂‬u.a. ‘Vogel’, waxi mՄrg f. ‘female ibex’ [...]. Der Ursprung von iir. *mr๗gá- ‘(wildes) Tier’ ist unklar. [...] Hierher der Dämonenname mŷ๗gaya- (RV 4.16.13; 8.3.19; 10.49.5)? Unklar RV 2.38.7 mr๗gayás- [...] (Mayrhofer, EWAia, 1992–2001: II 370 f.). 7 Text des RV gemäß der metrischen Ausgabe von van Nooten & Holland 1994. 5 6

45

José Virgilio García Trabazo

“Like heaven, Varuੇa has descended to the river — he, the powerful wild animal, like the bright drop; he of deep recitation, *who takes the measure of the airy space*; he the king of what is, whose lordship offers good passage.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 994)

(8) RV 10.180.2ab: mr๗gó ná bhŢmá‫ ܒ‬kucaró giriࡆࡖhŊя‫ ܒ‬/ parŊváta Ŋя jaganthŊ párasyŊ‫ܒ‬ “Im Gebirge hausend wie das furchtbare umherschweifende wilde Tier, bist du *aus fernster Ferne* gekommen.” (Geldner 1951: III 400) “Like a fearsome wild beast, living in the mountains and roaming wherever it wants, you (, Indra,) have come here *from the farther distance*.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 1655)

(9) RV 5.29.4: Ŋяd ródasŢ vitaráગ ví ࡆkabhŊyat / saગvivyŊnᯠcid bhiyáse mr๗gáગ ka‫ ܒ‬/ jígartim índro apajárgurŊয়a‫ ܒ‬práti ŻvaŻántam áva dŊnavaગ han “Darauf stemmte er ja *Himmel und Erde* noch weiter auseinander / (und) versetzte, sogar verhüllt, die Bestie in Furcht. / Während Indra den Vielfraß wiederholt mit Spott traktierte, / schlug er gegen den schnaubenden DŌnava zu und streckte ihn nieder.” (Witzel, Gotŷ & Scarlata 2013: 248) “After that he propped *the two world-halves* wide apart; even while enwrapped, he set the wild beast [= the serpent] to fearing. / Repeatedly taunting the gulper, Indra smashed the snorting DŌnava back and down.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 691)

(10) RV 1.145.5ab: sá Ţm mr๗gó ápiyo vanargúr / upa tvací upamásyŊગ ní dhŊyi “Er, das in den Wassern wohnende Wildtier, der Waldgänger, / wird *auf die oberste Haut (der Erde)* niedergesetzt.” (Witzel & Gotŷ 2007: 272) “This wild beast of the waters that roams in the woods (= Agni) has been installed *upon the uppermost skin*.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 322)

Noch eine Bedeutung von mr๗gá-, gleich der Mehrheit der iranischen Belege (vgl. avestisch mƕrƕΎa-), ist “Vogel” (wild bird): (11) RV 9.32.4: ubhé somŊvacŊяkaŻan / mr๗gó ná taktó arࡆasi / sŢяdann r๗tásya yónim Ŋя “*Auf beide* schauend rinnst (rennst) du, Soma, flüchtig wie ein Wild, dich in den Schoß der (Opfer)ordnung setzend.” (Geldner 1951: III 29) “O Soma, looking down *on both (worlds?)*, like a great wild bird launched in flight you rush, / settling down on the womb of truth.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 1263)

(12) RV 10.136.6: apsarásŊગ gandharvŊяয়Ŋm / mr๗gŊяয়Ŋગ cáraয়e cáran / keŻŢя kétasya vidvŊяn / sákhŊ svŊdúr madíntama‫ܒ‬ “*Auf der Fährte der Apsaras’, der Gandharven, der wilden Tiere wandelnd*, die Gedanken verstehend, ist der Langhaarige ihr süßer, gar entzückender Freund.” (Geldner 1951: III 370) “*Ranging in the range of the Apsarases and the Gandharvas, of the wild birds,* / the long-haired one is their sweet, most exhilarating comrade, who knows their will.” (Jamison & Brereton 2014: 1622)

Aus den vorhergehenden Belegen wird möglich etwa vier verschiedene Bedeutungsnuancen von mr๗gá- zu unterscheiden: 1. Das neutrale Wert von “Tier” oder “Wildtier” (Texte 4–8) 2. Referenz zur “Schlange” Vrճtra (Text 9) 3. Referenz zu Agni, das Feuer (Text 10) 4. Die Bedeutung (Wild-) “Vogel” (Texte 11–12). 46

Über luw./heth. dMar(ku)waya- und ai. mr๗gá- als Reflexe schamanistischer idg. Vorstellungen

Um eine Grundbedeutung hinter solchen semantischen Vielfalt zu gewinnen, könnte ein Vergleich mit der Anatolischen Tradition nützlich sein. Und gerade der heth. Text des ‘Großen Weges der Seele’ (CTH 457)ɏ8 bietet, unserer Meinung nach, wichtige vergleichbare Elemente, sowohl inhaltlich als sprachwissenschaftlich. Zuerst, die liminarische Funktion oder ‘Brückerfunktion’, die von den Tieren übernommen wird: die Biene, der Adler, der Ziegenbock, der Widder sind “schamanistische” und “numinose” Tiere, die die Seele in seiner Jenseitsreise begleiten. Und zweitens, die Bestimmung des ‘Weges der Seele’ im selben Text als “der Weg der die Sachen verschwinden läßt” (the road that makes things disappear): (13) KUB 43.60+ i 26–30: [Z]I-an-za-u๞a-kán u-ri-iš! ZI-an-za-u๞a-[k]án u-ri-iš (27) ku-el-u๞a-kán ZI-an-za u-ri-iš da-an-du-ki-eš-[n]a-aš-kán (28) ZI-an-za u-ri-iš nu ku-in KASKAL-an ‫ܔ‬ar-zi (29) u-ra-an KASKAL-an ‫ܔ‬ar-zi mar-nu-u๞a-la-an KASKAL-an ‫ܔ‬ar-zi (30) ša-an-za-pa KASKAL-ši LÚ.KASKAL-la-aš ‫ܔ‬a-an-da-a-it “«The soul is great! The soul is great!» (27) «Whose soul is great?» «The mortal’s (28) soul is great!». «What road does it have?» (29) “It has the great road. It has the road that makes things disappear.” (30) The man of the road (psychopompos?) has got it ready for the road.” (Archi 2008: 172 f.)

Somit ist es doch möglich, wie schon allgemein anerkannt, heth. mar-nu-u๞a-la-an KASKAL-an (KASKAL-an = *palšan) als “Weg des Verschwindens” zu verstehen.ɏ9 Der Epithet marnuu๞ala- wird aus dem Verb marnu- / mernu- ‘verschwinden lassen’ hergeleitet, seinerseits das Kausativum von mer- / mar- ‘verschwinden; vernichten; sterben’ (lat. morior usw.). Die Parallelen mit den r‫׎‬gvedischen Belegen für mr๗gá- (Texte 4–12), wie gesagt, sind nicht gering, vor allem wenn wir die Kontexte in Betrachtung ziehen. In den obengenannten Passagen erscheinen *zwischen Sternchen* die Wörter bzw. die Zusammenhänge die erlauben den Terminus mr๗gá- auch in Beziehung mit einer sakralen oder transzendenten (vielleicht sogar ‘schamanistischen’) Konzeption zu erfassen. Eine idg. Etymologie für altindisch mr๗gá- ‘Wildtier’ scheint also möglich — da die älteste Bedeutung der Wurzel *mer-ɏ10 anscheinend ‘verschwinden 8 KUB 43.60+. Bearbeitungen bei Watkins (1995: 284-287) und zuletzt bei Archi (2008: 172-174), aus dem die folgende schlicht modifizierte Umschrift und Übersetzung stammen: (1) [x-x-x-x-a]z GUD-uš šu-up-pa-at-ta UDUuš / (2) [šu-up-pa-a]t-ta ne-pí-iš šu-up-pa-at-t[a] (3) [KI-aš? šu-up-pa-a]t-ta ul-la-a-pa ka-da-an-ki (4) [x-x d]a-an-du-ki-iš ZI-an-za (5) [ku-u๞a-pí-i]it-še-pa ú-it-ta ‫ݺ‬UR.SAG-i-ku-u๞a-at-ša-an (6) [NI]M.LÀL-at ú-da!-ú ša-an pí-e-di-iš-ši da-a-ù (7) [ták-š]a-an-ni-ku!-u๞a-ša-an NIM.LÀL-at da-a-ù (8) [na-]at pí-e-di-iš-ši da-a-ù ku-i-ta (9) [te-r]i-ip-pí-az-ma na-at NIM.LÀLMEŠ ú-da-an-du (10) [na-]at pí-di-iš-ši ti-an-du NIM.LÀL te-ri-i๞a-aš UD-aš (11) mi-i-ú-u๞a UD-aš KASKAL-an pa-a-an-du na-pa i-i๞a-tar-mi-it (12) ú-da-an-du ták-ku a-ru-na-az-ma na-at la-‫ܔ‬a-an-za (13) ú-da-ú na-at-ša-an pí-e-di-iš-ši da-a-ú (14) ták-ku ÍD-az-ma na-at ‫ܔ‬u-u๞a-la-aš ú-da-ú (15) na-at-ša-an pí-e-di-iš-ši da-a-ú § (16) ku-i-ta na-pí-šaaz-ma na-at ta-pa-ka-li-i๞a (17) ‫ܔ‬a-ra-ašMUŠEN kad!-du-ud ú-da-ú i-la-li-an-za kad-du-uš-mi-it (18) u๞a-al-‫ܔ‬a-an-za e-eš-du MÁŠ.GAL-ša-an ša-ap-pu-it (19) u๞a-al-a‫ܔ‬-du UDU.NITA-ša-an SI‫ݺ‬I.A-an-da u๞a-al-a‫ܔ‬-du (20) an-na-ša-an UDU-uš ti-it-tiit-te-it u๞a-al-a‫ܔ‬-du (1) “[…]. the ox is sleeping. The sheep (2) [is sleep]ing. Heaven is sleeping. (3) [Earth is sleep]ing … (4) […] the mortal soul (i.e. the soul of the mortal). (5) [Wher]e did it come for it? (If) it is on the mountain, (6) let the bee bring it and put it in its place. (7) (If) it is on the plain, let the bee bring it (8) and put it in its place. What is (9) from the ploughed field, let the bees bring it (10) and put it in its place. Let the bee(s) go a journey of three days, (11) of four days, and let them bring my plenty. (12) If it is from the sea, let the (migratory) lahanzaduck (13) bring it and put in its place. (14) But if it is from the river, let the swan(?) bring it (15) and put it in its place. § (16) But whatever is from the sky, let the hare-grabbing(?) (17) eagle bring in (his) offenses (i.e. talons). Let the desired one be (18) struck with their offenses (i.e. talons). Let the he-goat strike her (19) with his sappu-horns. Let the ram strike her with his horns. (20) Let the mother-sheep strike her with her nose.” 9 Vgl. Kloekhorst (2008: 577 f.): marnuu๞ala- (adj.) ‘to make disappear’. Nach Kloekhorst (ibidem 578) ist der Verbalstamm wahrscheinlich auch in hluv. DELEREm[ax]+ra/i-nu-w[a/i- ...] (KARKAMIŠ A28g 1. 2.) bewahrt, zu interpretieren als die phonetische Schreibung von DELERE-nuu๞a- ‘to cause to disappear, to destroy’. 10 Pokorny, IEW (31994: I 735); Rix, LIV (2001: 439 f.); Wodtko & alii, NIL (2008: 488-491).

47

José Virgilio García Trabazo

(> sterben)’ ist — und als ein (thematisiertes) Rektionskompositum *mr๗-gu๞(h2)-ó- ‘der in der Dunkelheit läuft’ɏ11 zu verstehen, seinerseits aus einem möglichen Wurzelkompositum *m(e/o)r-gu๞(e)h2- ‘der Weg des Verschwindens’, ‘Jenseitsweg’, ‘dunkler Weg’, *‘Wildpfad’ (vgl. mŊrga- ‘Weg, Pfad, Fährte, Methode’) hergeleitet.ɏ12 3. Luw. dMarwaya- / heth. dMarkuwaya- ‘Dunkle Gottheit(en), Unterweltgottheit(en)’ als mögliche weitere Vertretung von idg. *m(e)r-guչ(h2)-ó-? Eine auffällige Parallelbildung zu mr๗gá- wäre das Wort svargá- (suvar°) m. ‘Himmel’ (RV [10.95.18]+), svargá- (AV+), svargyà- (YV+) ‘himmlisch’; als svar-gá- ‘zum Sonnenlicht gehend; das Gelangen zur Sonne’ɏ13 mit svàr- n. ‘Sonne, Sonnenlicht, heiterer Himmel’ (idg. *séh2u๞l๗-Ɏ/ *sh2u๞éns: vgl. lat. sŵl, got. sunno, aks. slˮn˰ce usw. ‘Sonne’) + gŊ-1 (gam-?) ‘gehen’.ɏ14 Sowohl mr๗gá- ‘Wildtier’ als svargá- ‘Himmel’ wären also alte (thematisierte) Wurzelkomposita mit *-gu๞(h2)-ó- als Hintergliedɏ15; seinerseits aus *gu๞eh2- ‘den Fuß aufsetzen, treten’ (LIV 205, NIL 174–175, IEW 463 ff.). Vor kurzem wurde auch möglich eine wichtige griechische Parallelbildung zu diesen kosmologischen Dualismus (Hell vs. Dunkel)ɏ16 hinzufügen. Und nämlich nach der von Alexander Nikolaievɏ17 vorgeschlagenen Etymologie wäre Hom. λϋџΜέΩΫ als *n๗-seh2-u๞n๗t-o- ‘not having sun(light)’ zu verstehen: (14) Ilias ̨ 271 (West): ξΞΪΠΤ ΧЛΧ ÷ΩΤ Ќ÷ΩάάΩΧ λθΜέΩΧ ̬έήΞЇΫ ЗΟβΪ “come on (and) swear to me now by the λθΜέΩ- waters of the Styx”

Das Wort erscheint als Epitheton des Wassers der Styx: “the practice of swearing by the waters of the Netherworld is likely to be inherited: we find it [also] in Vedic India and in the Poetic Edda”.ɏ18 Die angesetzte Bedeutungen ‘Dunkelheit-läufer’, ‘in das Schwinden gehendes (Wesen)’, ‘in Jenseits gehendes (Wesen)’ sind zu verstehen als Versuche oder Annäherungen zu einem ‘schamanistischen’ oder ‘liminarischen’ Begriff, und waren nicht – wie die breite Verwendbarkeit von mr๗gá- im Veda nahelegt – zur Bezeichnung des ‘Wildtieres’ oder ‘Antilope’ beschränkt. 12 Wobei das Vorderglied als ein Wurzelnomen *mer-/*mor-/*mr๗- zu begreifen wäre; wahrscheinlicher vielleicht *m(o)r-, etwa wie in *m(o)r-dhh1-ó- ‘todbringend’ > lat. morbus ‘Krankheit’ (Bammesberger apud Wodtko & alii 2008: 491). In der späteren Literatur findet man noch ab und zu weitere Belege die relevant für die Diskussion sein könnten; z.B., ai. (klass.) mr๗ga-jala- n., ‘deer-water’ ਘ ‘mirage’; mr๗ga-tr๗ࡆ- (usw.) ‘deer-thirst’ ਘ ‘mirage, Fata Morgana’ werden vielleicht verständlicher unter Aufnahme des Begriffes des ‘Schwindens’. 13 Janda 2005: 258–285. 14 Vergleich mit gr. ϞΦϴΝΜέΩΫ ‘steil, schroff’ bei Meier-Brügger 1994: 226. 15 Vgl. Scarlata 1999: 107f. 16 Vgl. auch Janda (2005: 275–278): aav. xvarƕnŊไ Y 51.18, jav. xvarƕnah- (Yašt 19). [Der ZamyŌd-Yašt] unterscheidet zwei Formen des xvarƕnah-, welches “a half-personified light phenomenon of heavenly origin, a sort of halo or nimbus” […] bezeichnet. [...] Der Anlaut xv- der avestischen Form kann lautgesetzlich [...] aus uriir. *su๞- entstanden sein; [...] Die [...] wahrscheinlichste Deutung hat schon Skjærvø (1983) aufgezeigt: In urir. *hu๞arnah- [...] fand eine Dissimilation hu๞ > f zu *farnah- [...] statt” (obwohl die Entwicklung xv > f wird heutzutage als spezifische Neuerung des “Medischen” Dialekt betrachtet). Zu av. xvarƕnah- ist natürlich Lubotsky (1998) erwähnenswert. Das uriir. Transponat ist also gemäß Janda (2005: 276) als *su๞ar-nas- anzusetzen (< idg. *-nes- ‘davonkommen, unbeschadet heimkehren’, LIV 454 f.): Das “Davonkommen” überwindet Tod und Krankheiten (nhd. ge-nesen), zielt auf Rettung und Erlösung und führt zum Licht (*s[h2]u๞ol-). Auch nach Janda (2005: 257-286), sowohl ЌΦΝΩΫ ‘Segen, Fülle, Glück, Wohlstand, Wohlergehen, Gedeihen’ als die Ableitung ЌΦΝΤΩΫ ‘gesegnet, begütert, glücklich’ wären Reflexe eines *su๞ol-gu๞(h2)-o-. 17 Nikolaiev 2012/13. 18 Nikolaiev 2012/13: 196. 11

48

Über luw./heth. dMar(ku)waya- und ai. mr๗gá- als Reflexe schamanistischer idg. Vorstellungen

Als formulares / kontrastives Element wäre also möglich, luw. dMaru๞ai๞a- / heth. dMarkuu๞ai๞a-ɏ19 ‘Dunkle Gottheit(en), Unterweltgottheit(en)’ als eine weitere Vertretung der verbalen Basis *mer- / *mor- ‘verschwinden (ਘ sterben)’, entweder als von idg. *mergu๞- ‘dark’ (zu vergleichen mit an. myrkr ‘dark’, mjাrkvi ‘darkness’, asächs. mirki, ae. mierce ‘dark’)ɏ20; oder tatsächlich — parallel zu altindisch mr๗gá- — auch aus idg. *m(e)r-gu๞(h2)-ó-, etwa ‘die aus der Dunkelheit kommende (Gottheiten)’. Zu vergleichen wäre auch das — wahrscheinlich verwandte — luwische Verb :maruu๞ai-, ein μÞΜΨ ΦΠΞІ÷ΠΧΩΧ unbekannter Bedeutung, aber interessanterweise auch in einem liminarischen Kontext verwendet: (15) KBo 6.29 ii 10–13: nu-mu dIŠTAR URUŠa-mu-‫ܔ‬a GAŠAN-I๞A (11) u๞a-ar-ri-iš-ši-iš-ta nu ša-ra-az-zi (12) kat-te-ir-ra-i๞a an-da :ma-ru-u๞a-ait nu ne-pí-iš (13) te-kán-na kat-kat-te-nu-ut “und Ištar, meine Herrin kam mir zu Hilfe, sie vermengte (durcheinander) / trennte (?) Oben und Unten, sie ließ *Himmel und Erde* niederknien” (Tischler, HEG II/5–6 L-M, 1990: 151).

Beide mögliche etymologische Lösungen für anat. dMar(k)uwai๞a- — entweder *mergu๞‘dark’ oder *m(e)r-gu๞(h2)-ó- — stellen m.E. eine mögliche Verknüpfung mit den alten prähistorischen schamanistischen Vorstellungen dar.

Bibliographie Archi, Alfonso. 2008. The Soul Has to Leave the Land of the Living. JANER 7.2: 169–195. García Trabazo, José Virgilio. 2016. Sobre indio antiguo mr๗gá- ‘animal salvaje’ y el texto hitita KUB 43.60+ (‘El gran camino del alma’). In: Tavet Tat Satyam. Studies in Honor of Jared S. Klein on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday, ed. by A.M. Byrd, J. DeLisi & M. Wenthe, Ann Arbor / New York: Beech Stave Press: 65–75. García Trabazo, José Virgilio. 2016a. Zur ‘Baumanrufung’ des Rituals für den Aufbau eines neuen Palastes (CTH 414, KUB 29.1+ I 28–31). Schamanistische Züge in der hethitischen Religion?. In: Anatolica et Indogermanica. Studia linguistica in honorem Johannis Tischler septuagenarii dedicata, hrsgg. von H. Marquardt, S. Reichmuth und J.V. García Trabazo, Inssbruck: Institut für Sprachen und Literaturen der Universität Innsbruck: 81–88. Geldner, Karl F. 1951. Der Rig-Veda aus dem Sanskrit ins Deutsche übersetzt und mit einem laufenden Kommentar versehen von K.F.G. (3 Bände), Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Güterbock, Hans G. & Hoffner, Harry A. 1989. The Hittite Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago (CHD), Vol. L-N, Chicago: The Oriental Institute. Haas, Volkert. 1994. Geschichte der Hethitischen Religion, Leiden / New York / Köln: Brill. Hawkins, John David. 2000. Corpus of Hieroglyphic Luwian Inscriptions (CHLI), Vol. I: Inscriptions of the Iron Age, Berlin / New York: de Gruyter. Hawkins, John David. 2004. “The Stag-God of the Countryside and Related Problems”. In: Indo-European Perspectives. Studies in Honour of Anna Morpurgo Davies, ed. by J.H.W. Penney, Oxford: University Press, 355–369. Hoffner Jr., H.A. & Melchert, H.C. 2008. A Grammar of the Hittite Language. Part I: Reference Grammar, Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns. Jamison, Stephanie W. & Brereton, Joel P. 2014. The Rigveda. The Earliest Religious Poetry of India (3 Vols.), Oxford: University Press. Zur Deutung der morphologischen Derivation wäre nützlicher ein Stammauslaut -ai๞- anzusetzen, etwa wie Kloekhorst, (2008: 560): “C[uneiform] Luw[ian] dMaru๞ai-”, oder (ibid. 563) “If Luw. DINGIR.MEŠMaru๞Ŋinzi and Hitt. dMarkuu๞ai๞a- are really cognate, we have to reconstruct a P[roto] Anat[olian] form *margu๞ai-”. Der angebliche vokalische Stammauslaut im heth. dMarkuu๞ai๞a- hat eigentlich keinen sicheren Grund, da die Belege wahrscheinlich nur Dat.Pl. auf -aš sind. Es handelt sich also um das gemeinanatolische ai-Suffix (vgl. Hoffner & Melchert 2008: 54, 92). 20 Kloekhorst (2008: 562 f.), s.v. maru๞Ŋi-. 19

49

José Virgilio García Trabazo

Janda, Michael. 2005. Elysion. Entstehung und Entwicklung der griechischen Religion. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachen und Literaturen der Universität Innsbruck. Kloekhorst, Alwin. 2008. Etymological Dictionary of the Hittite Inherited Lexicon (EDHIL), Leiden / Boston: Brill. Lubotsky, Alexander. 1998. “Avestan xvarƕnah-: the etymology and concept”. In: Sprache und Kultur der Indogermanen. Akten der X. Fachtagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft, Innsbruck, 22.-28. September 1996, hrsgg. von W. Meid, Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität Innsbruck, 479–488. Meier-Brügger, Michael. 1994. Zwei uralte griechische Wörter. In: Früh-, Mittel-, Spätindogermanish. Akten der IX. Fachtagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft vom 5. bis 9. Oktober 1992 in Zürich, hrsgg. von Dunkel, G.E. & alii, Wiesbaden: Reichert: 225–230. Melchert, H. Craig. 1993. Cuneiform Luwian Lexicon (CLL), Chapel Hill, N.C. Nikolaiev, Alexander. 2012/13. Homeric λθΜέΩΫ: Etymology and Poetics. Die Sprache 50/2: 182–239. Pokorny, Julius. 31994. Indogermanisches Etymologisches Wörterbuch (IEW). 1. Band, 3., unveränderte Auflage, Tübingen / Basel: Francke. Rix, Helmut (Hg.). 1981. Lexikon der indogermanischen Verben (LIV). Die Wurzeln und ihre Primärstammbildungen, Wiesbaden: Reichert. Scarlata, Salvatore. 1999. Die Wurzelkomposita im R๗g-Veda, Wiesbaden: Reichert. Tischler, Johann. 1990. Hethitisches Etymlogisches Glossar (HEG), Teil II, Lieferungen 5–6: L-M, Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität Innsbruck. van Gessel, Ben H. L. 1998. Onomasticon of the Hittite Pantheon. Part One, Leiden / New York / Köln: Brill. van Nooten, Barend A. & Holland, Gary B. 1994. Rig Veda: A Metrically Restored Text with an Introduction and Notes. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Watkins, Calvert. 1995. How to Kill a Dragon. Aspects of Indo-European Poetics, New York / Oxford: Oxford University Press. Witzel, Michael & Gotŷ, Toshifumi. 2007. Rig-Veda. Das Heilige Wissen. Erster und Zweiter Liederkreis, Frankfurt am Main / Leipzig: Verlag der Weltreligionen im Insel Verlag. Witzel, Michael, Gotŷ, Toshifumi & Scarlata, Salvatore. 2013. Rig-Veda. Das Heilige Wissen. Dritter bis fünfter Liederkreis, Berlin: Verlag der Weltreligionen im Insel Verlag. Wodtko, Dagmar S., Irslinger, Britta & Schneider, Carolin. 2008. Nomina im Indogermanischen Lexikon (NIL), Heidelberg: Winter.

ʘ˙˜ˀ ɰˀ˛˦ˌ˕ˌ˙ ɱʸ˛˜ˌʸ ʐ˛ʸʻʸ˜˙. ʝˋ˪˪˥-༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘ˋ dMar(ku)waya- ๑ʕˋˢˣ˻ˋ ˄˥ːˋ˨˪˅ˁ, ˄˥ːˋ˨˪˅ˁ ˦˥ˊ˖ˋˢˣ˥ˆ˥ ˢ˘˧ˁ๏ ˘ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˘ˣˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˋ mr๗gá- ‘ˊ˘˜˘˙ ˖˅ˋ˧˼’ ˜ˁ˜ ˥˪˧ˁːˋˣ˘̀ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˘˲ ˸ˁˢˁˣ˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘˙ ʌ˫˅˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˘ ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˘˙ ˪ˋ˥ˣ˘ˢ˻, ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ dMarwaya ˘ dMarkuwaya, «ʕˋˢˣ˻ˋ ˄˥ːˋ˨˪˅ˁ, ˄˥ːˋ˨˪˅ˁ ˦˥ˊ˖ˋˢˣ˥ˆ˥ ˢ˘˧ˁ» ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˨ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˘ˣˊ˘˙˨˜˘ˢ mr๗gá- ‘ˊ˘˜˘˙ ˖˅ˋ˧˼’. ɸ༤̀ ˥˄ˋ˘˲ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˪˧ˁˊ˘˴˘˙ ˦˧ˋˊ༤ˁˆˁˋ˪˨̀ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜ˁ̀ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀: ˥˪ *m(e)r-gu๞(h2)-ó- «ʃˊ˫˹˘˙ ˅˥ ˪˼ˢˋ» ˘༤˘ «ʃˊ˫˹˘˙ ˜ ˘˨˵ˋ˖ˣ˥˅ˋˣ˘˿». ʨ˪˥ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘ˋ ˜ˁ˜ ˵ˁ˨˪˼ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦˥˽˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥-˜˥˨ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦˧˥˪˘˅˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˦˧˥˅ˋ˧̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˦ˁ˧ˁ༤༤ˋ༤˼˿ *su๞eh2l-gu๞(h2)-ó- > ˊ˧.-˘ˣˊ. svargá «ˣˋ˄ˋ˨ˁ». ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜, ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜, ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˘ˣˊ˘˙˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜, ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘, ̀˖˻˜ ˦˥˽˖˘˘, ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀.

50

Miguel Valério University of Barcelona; [email protected]

̔΋ΌЁΙΓΖΒΘΚ and word-initial lambdacism in Anatolian Greek The lexical pair formed by Mycenaean da-pu(2)-ri-to- and later Greek ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ presents a contrast between Linear B d and alphabetical Φ in a position where one would expect to find a similar sound represented. This orthographic inconsistency has been taken as a synchronic fluctuation between /d/ and /l/, both optimal adaptations of what is assumed to be a nonGreek (Minoan) sound in da-pu(2)-ri-to-. In turn, it has been proposed that this “special” and wholly theoretical sound, which according to some suggestions was a coronal fricative, was behind the Linear A d series. Here it is argued that there is actually no evidence that /d/ and /l/ alternated synchronically in Mycenaean Greek, and that therefore the /l-/ of ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ is more likely the result of a later shift. Starting from this premise, it is hypothesized that ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ derives from a form closer to Mycenaean da-pu(2)-ri-to-, an unattested *ΟΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ, that underwent a shift /d-/ > /l-/ in Southern or Western Anatolia. The proposed motivation is the influence of some local Anatolian language that prohibited /d/ wordinitially. The same development is considered for ΦηίΧ΢ and ΦϲάΥΩΫ, which Hesychius glossed as Pergaean (Pamphylian) forms of standard Greek ΟηίΧ΢ ‘sweet bay’ and ΟϲάΥΩΫ ‘discus, quoit’, and possibly also for the Cimmerian personal name Dugdammê/̥ВΞΟΜ÷ΤΫ. Of course, this hypothesis has implications for our perception of the Linear A d series and certain open questions that concern the Aegean-Cypriot syllabaries. Keywords: ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ; Mycenaean Greek; lambdacism; Anatolian; Lygdamis; Linear A

1. Linear B da-pu(2)-ri-to- , alphabetical Greek Ε΋ΌЁΙΓΖΒΘΚ and the alleged /d/ ~ /l/ alternation in Mycenaean Greek The pair formed by Linear B da-pu(2)-ri-to- and later Greek ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ constitutes one of the most discussed sets of lexical items among Aegeanists. The alphabetical form, ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ, is first attested in the work of Herodotus (2.148), which dates from the 5th century BCE. It refers to a vast, partially underground mortuary complex located in Egypt, near the Lake Moeris. Later, the word appears in inscriptions from the temple of Apollo at Didyma, in Caria (ca. 218 BCE).ɏ1 There, it designates two stairwells of the temple that consisted of a double flight of steps (Montegu 1976: 304). If not for their own winding, these architectural features may have been termed ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ because their ceiling was carved with a meander pattern (Fontenrose 1988: 38, n. 15). Generally speaking, the word came to refer to “a large building consisting of numerous halls connected by intricate and tortuous passages” (Liddell and Scott 1940), and accordingly Hesychius glossed the word as ΥΩΰΦΤΩΠΤΟϜΫ έЅÞΩΫ ‘spiral place’ (Latte 1956). We can assume that a general sense of ‘sinuous architectural feature’ was what led Herodotus to use ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ to describe the Egyptian complex, whereas the stairwells at Didyma received this designation either because of their shape or decoration. 1

See inscriptions no. Didyma 84 and 86 (McCabe 1985).

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/1 (2017) • Pp. 51–59 • © The authors, 2017

Miguel Valério

The Linear B form was unveiled after the decipherment of the script in 1952. In the clay tablet KN Gg(1) 702 it is part of the phrase da-pu2-ri-to-jo po-ti-ni-ja ‘to the Lady of D.’ which registers the offering of a honey jar to a goddess named thus, alongside an identical gift ‘to all the gods’ (pa-si-te-o-i) (Ventris and Chadwick 1973: 310). The same female divine name appears also in a more fragmentary text, KN Oa 745, and a broken form da-pu-ri-to[ is attested in tablet KN Xd 140, most likely representing a variant spelling of da-pu2-ri-to-jo or a related form. Already Palmer (1955: 40) proposed to interpret da-pu2-ri-to-jo po-ti-ni-ja as *̥ΜΝήΪϲΧΣΩΤΩ ÞΩέΧϲΜ(Τ) ‘Lady of Labyrinthos (dat.)’. In the Linear B tablets, the word po-ti-ni-ja /potnia/ ‘mistress’ is frequently preceded by an epithet and sometimes written as one word. When this is the case, the preceding word is thought to be usually a place name, or a noun in the genitive: a-ta-na-po-ti-ni-ja (MY Oi 701) /AthŌnŌi PotniŌi/ ‘Lady (of) AthŌnŌ (dat.)’; e-re-wi-jo-po-ti-ni-ja (PY Vn 48.3), of uncertain meaning, but possibly with a place-name in the genitive; si-to-po-tini-ja (MY Oi 701) ‘Lady of the Grain(s) (dat.)’; u-po-jo po-ti-ni-ja (PY Fn 187; Fr. 1225, 1236), again possibly with a toponym in the genitive (Ventris and Chadwick 1973: 545, 574; Aura Jorro 1985: 160; Trümpy 2001). Therefore, da-pu2-ri-to-jo is interpreted as the genitive of a place called da-pu2-ri-to-, closely comparable to ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ. What the word meant by Mycenaean times (ca. 1450–1200 BCE) and what this place was exactly remains a matter of debate, the most notable suggestions being ‘palace sanctuary’ (Evans 1921: 6)ɏ2 and ‘cultic cave, subterranean sanctuary’ (Cagiano 1958: 48–52 and Faure 1964 apud Sarullo 2008; Montegu 1976: 304)ɏ3. Be it as it may, the problem that I would like to treat here is essentially phonological, not semantic. Since the 1950s, the indisputable equation of dapu2-ri-to- and ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ has generated much discussion. The debate stems from the unexpected Linear B spelling of the initial sound of the word with d, which consistently represents /d/ in native Mycenaean Greek words, instead of the expected r, which transcribed both /r/ and the liquid /l/. The hypotheses that have been advanced to account for this inconsistency have ramifications for several open questions in Aegean and Anatolian studies, and this is the reason why they merit a reassessment. Elsewhere (Valério 2007) I have argued for a connection between Linear B da-pu2-ri-to- and the Linear A sequence du-pu2-re (but cf. also Biligmeyer 1989). Linear A du-pu2-re is attested as part of the compounded sequence (j)a-di-ki-te-te-du-pu2-re in two inscribed stone libation vessels (PK Za 8 and 15) from the peak sanctuary at Petsophas (Palaikastro, Eastern Crete). In the Archaic period, the same site was home to the cult of Diktaian Zeus (in reference to the Mountain of Dikte, where according to later myths Zeus was born). Since the Linear B texts from Knossos mention a Cretan deity called di-ka-ta-jo di-we ‘Diktaian Zeus’ already in the Late Bronze Age, I suggested that Linear A (j)a-di-ki-te-te-du-pu2-re signified ‘Master of/from Dikte’ in Minoan, and du-pu2-re on its own ‘master, ruler’. I also proposed, as a corollary, that a Minoan derivative of du-pu2-re, plus a suffix */-nth-/, was borrowed into Mycenaean Greek as da-pu2-ri-to- ‘royal place > palace’. This proposal, however, echoed certain speculations of Evans (1921: 6), following Mayer and Kretschmer’s idea that ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ was etymologically linked to Zeus of Labraunda, a Carian locality (Kretschmer 1896: 404). By evoking also the word ΦηΝΪήΫ ‘axe’ (according to Plutarch the supposed Lydian source of Labraunda), Evans identified the Labyrinth with the Bronze Age ‘palace sanctuary of Knossos’. Since this identification draws strictly on formal resemblance, it cannot demonstrate any association of Linear A du-pu2-re and Greek da-pu(2)-ri-to- ~ ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ with the semantics of kingship (contra Valério 2007), so I no longer favor this view (see now Valério 2015 and the following note here). 3 This second interpretation is not too far-fetched, considering that the meaning ‘sacred hypogeum’ (or sim.) would account well for Herodotus’ use of ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ in his description of an Egyptian underground mortuary building. In this case, Linear A (j)a-di-ki-te-te-du-pu2-re might either refer to the ‘Cave of Dikte’ where the later Zeus was said to have been born, or mean ‘Diktaian god’ (cf. Linear B di-ka-ta-jo di-we), if da-pu(2)-ri-to- stems from a Minoan word that literally signified ‘godly (place) > sanctuary’. 2

52

̥ΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ and word-initial lambdacism in Anatolian Greek

2. Suggestions of a special sound from an Aegean substrate language Ventris and Chadwick (1973: 310, 538) proposed the identification of the Linear B place-name (sic) da-pu2-ri-to- with ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ ‘Labyrinth’ with a question mark. Like Palmer (1955: 40) and Heubeck (1957: 151), they considered that, if the equation was true, then the d ~ Φ alternation must be the reflex of an “intermediate” sound of a non-Greek Aegean language. For Yakubovich (2002: 109), one possibility is that this foreign sound was identical with the coronal fricative /ð/. Davis (2014: 204–210) builds on this suggestion and argues for an underlying Minoan phoneme /Σ/ that also possessed a voiced allophone /ð/. Kassian (2010: 362, n. 31) considers a lateral affricate /tഅ/. Lejeune (1958: 327–328) came up with a slightly different hypothesis, in which the different spellings are not taken as alternative scribal choices for spelling an alleged non-Greek sound in Linear B, but rather the direct consequence of such sound. He linked the inconsistent orthography of da-pu2-ri-to-jo and ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ to two intriguing features of the Mycenaean syllabary that meant the underrepresentation of two phonemic contrasts of Greek. On the one hand, Linear B possessed a single series for the two Greek liquids, the lateral /l/ and the rhotic /r/, transliterated as r by convention. On the other hand, the script did not mark the voicing opposition in any of the stop series, with the exception of the coronals, whereby d transcribed voiced /d/ and t was used for voiceless /t, th/. As an attempt to account for both “anomalies”, Lejeune hypothesized that the model of Linear B, the Linear A script, possessed three series: r = /r/, d = /l/ and t = /t/, respectively. Still according to Lejeune, this Minoan /l/ possibly was very close to the Greek stop /d/ in terms of articulation. Thus, the Mycenaeans might have borrowed the theoretical Linear A d = /l/ for writing Greek /d/, while choosing to employ Linear A r for the two Greek liquids, /r/ and /l/. Lejeune supported this hypothesis by adducing some ‘Aegean’ words with interchanging Ο and Φ in their spellings that had intrigued scholars since the 19th century — particularly the name of Odysseus (Homeric ͵ΟήάάΠВΫ and Ionian ͵ΟήάάϰΩΫ ~ ̩ЖΦΤΨΠВΫ/΢Ϋ, ͵/ΉΦήά(ά)ΠВΫ, ͵Φήέ(έ)ΠВΫ, ͵ΦΤάΠВΫɏ4) and the pair ΟηίΧ΢ ~ ΦηίΧ΢ ‘sweet bay’, which will be of importance below.ɏ5 It is to be noticed that the hypothetical /l/ that Lejeune pondered as the sound behind Linear A d has also been proposed to be the first sound of a Minoan word borrowed into Mycenaean Greek as da-pu2-ri-to-. Therefore, the tacit implication of his hypothesis is that, synchronically, Linear B d would represent a Minoan lateral (in borrowings and non-Greek onomastics) in addition to the Greek stop /d/. Lejeune formulated his idea with utmost caution and underlined that it could not be demonstrated. In fact, he took notice of two possible counterarguments (Lejeune 1958: 328). On the one hand, certain Linear A sequences had close equivalents in non-Greek personal names in the Linear B tablets, and these pairs revealed a direct correspondence LA d > LB d (cf. e.g. Linear A ku-ku-da-ra vs. Linear B ku-ku-da-ro). On the other hand, Lejeune noticed two interesting developments in the Cypro-Greek syllabary, used on Cyprus during the first millennium (for the ancient local Greek dialect) and likely derived from Linear A indirectly, through the Cypro-Minoan syllabary (ca. 1500–1050 BCE). In Cypro-Greek, a syllabogram that was See Liddell and Scott (1940) and Chantraine (1999: 775). Most of the forms with Φ occur in Greek vases and were compiled already in Kretschmer (1894: 146–147). 5 The pair Linear B †ka-da-mi-ta ~ alphabetical Greek ΥΜΦΜ÷ϲΧΣΜ ‘catmint, mint’ (found in Furnée 1972 and reproduced e.g. in Kassian 2010: 362, n. 31) must be excluded as a potential example of Linear B d = alphabetical Φ. The form †ka-da-mi-ta was the old reading of a Mycenaean sequence from tablet MY Ge 604. It has been corrected to ka-da-mi-ja and is rather to be compared to ΥηΪΟΜ÷ΩΧ, ΥΜΪΟΜ÷ϲΫ ‘garden cress (Lepidium sativum)’ (Bennett 1958: 81, n. 5; Ventris and Chadwick 1973: 549). I am thankful to Maurizio Del Freo for the relevant references. 4

53

Miguel Valério

clearly derived from Linear A da was used as ta /da, ta, tha/. At the same time, Linear A ro was the likely source of Cypro-Greek lo /lo/, whereas the Greek syllable /ro/ was written with another series that represented exclusively /r/ and had no antecedents in Linear A.ɏ6 These pieces of evidence imply that Linear A d transcribed a coronal obstruent and that r was its single liquid series, thereby making Lejeune’s hypothesis very difficult.

3. Synchronic variation or change? Often not underlined in treatments of da-pu(2)-ri-to- ~ ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ is the fact that the pair does not represent a synchronic variation in spelling. Rather, da-pu2-ri-to- is separated from ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ by more than seven centuries. As remarked above, the two forms have been taken as evidence of a /d/ ~ /l/ alternation in Mycenaean Greek under the influence of a substrate language, yet the evidence supplied in support of this notion all comes from much later alphabetical material, such as ͵ΟήάάΠВΫ ~ ͵ΦήάάΠВΫ. Conversely, no examples of Linear B words in which d = /d/ and r = /l/ interchange are available. For example, we never find **ra-pu(2)-ri-to- in Linear B. In other words, there is no proof that /d/ and /l/ ever alternated in words borrowed into Greek as early as the Late Bronze Age. We also lack any compelling example of interchanging r and d in Linear A > Linear B pairs of sequences.ɏ7 Moreover, there is no reason to assume that the Linear B d series represented anything other than /d/. Even when d was used in transcriptions of foreign names or loanwords, we should expect it to represent a foreign sound that was adapted to the Greek phonology and was pronounced by most native speakers as /d/. Thus, we ought to reconstruct Mycenaean da-pu(2)-ri-to- as /daphúrinthos/ (see already Lejeune 1972: 57, n. 3). It must be noticed, incidentally, that there is no unequivocal evidence that Linear B p2, even in alternation with p, stood for anything other than the aspirated /ph/.ɏ8 Once it becomes clear that there is no indication of a synchronic variation of /d/ ~ /l/ in Mycenaean words, we must consider the possibility of a diachronic phenomenon. In other words, we must explore the idea that only in post-Mycenaean times did the /d/ of da-pu(2)-ri-toshift to /l/, yielding ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ.

4. Word-initial lambdacism in Greek forms from Anatolia? It is interesting that the variant with Φ- first appears in the work of Herodotus, who was a native of Halicarnassus, in Caria (southwestern Anatolia). The reason I emphasize this is that Anatolia is also the source of the two glosses by Hesychius that are frequently cited as instances of Ο ~ Φ variations and comparanda for ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ (e.g. Heubeck 1957: 152; Ventris Recently, Steele (2014) also reevaluates Lejeune’s hypothesis. With Davis (2014: 206), we can take note of Linear A da-ri-da vs. Linear B ra-ri-di-jo ‘of/belong to ra-ri-d-’, but without any guarantee that the words compared are related. 8 As I have argued elsewhere (Valério 2015: 332, n. 6; 2016: 201–202), there is a possible way to account for the discrepancy between Linear B p(2) = /ph/ and alphabetical Ν in da-pu(2)-ri-to- ~ ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ. One can entertain that two competing Mycenaean forms existed, /daphúrinthos/ and */dawúrinthos/, which reflected two different Greek adaptations of a foreign (Minoan) word containing a voiceless labial fricative. One suitable typological parallel is provided by Mongolian, which adapts Russian [f] variably as [ph], [pjh] or [w] in loanwords (Svantesson et al. 2005: 31). In this scenario, the theoretical Mycenaean */dawúrinthos/ would have been the source of ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ. For w > Ν, cf. Linear B mo-ri-wo-do /mólivdos/(?) vs. later alphabetical Greek ÷ЅΦήΝΟΩΫ ~ ÷ЅΦΤΝΩΫ ‘lead’. 6 7

54

̥ΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ and word-initial lambdacism in Anatolian Greek

and Chadwick 1973: 310): ΦηίΧ΢ = ΟηίΧ΢ ‘sweet bay’ and ΦϲάΥΩΫ = ΟϲάΥΩΫ ‘discus, quoit’. Both are attributed by the Hellenistic lexicographer to the speech of the inhabitants of Perge, a city in southern Pamphylia (Latte 1956). Is it a coincidence, then, that there is some connection to Anatolia in the three cases (ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ, ΦηίΧ΢ and ΦϲάΥΩΫ) in which lambdacism takes place in initial position? A further similar case is presented by the name of a Cimmerian or Scythian warlord who raided parts of Anatolia in the 7th century BCE. The individual in question is mentioned in the Neo-Assyrian cuneiform sources as Dugdammê ~ Tugdammê, but as ̥ВΞΟΜ÷ΤΫ in the writings of Kallimachos (3rd century BCE) and Strabo (Geo. 1.3.21, 1st century BCE) (Kuhrt 1987: 187). It is true that other historical figures existed, Greek and Carian, who bore the name ̥ВΞΟΜ÷ΤΫ: an Olympic champion from Syracuse (mid-7th century BCE); a tyrant of Naxos (mid-6th century BCE); and two rulers of Halicarnassus, respectively the father and the son or grandson of Artemisia (Tokhtas’ev 2007: 611–612).ɏ9 This has raised suspicions that the name is Carian, not Cimmerian (Iranian?), but regardless of its popularity in Anatolian and Greek-speaking circles, this does not mean that it must be disconnected from the name of the Cimmerian chieftain, Dugdammê. We may compare the widespread use of the name of the ill-famed Hunnish ruler Attila, even today, in countries like Hungary and Turkey. Ultimately, the etymology and source of ̥ВΞΟΜ÷ΤΫ may not be too relevant, as it is undeniable that the name circulated widely in Asia Minor. Thus Kuhrt (1987: 187), crediting an oral suggestion by S. Karwiese (1984), contemplates difficulties “in rendering the specific sound of an Anatolian language” as the cause for the change T/D- > ̥-. We may build on this suggestion and hypothesize that Dugdammê became *Lugdam(m)i (or similar) in an Anatolian language that prohibited initial /d/, and the latter form was then captured as ̥ВΞΟΜ÷ΤΫ in the Greek alphabet. We can do more to substantiate the hypothesis that ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ, ΦηίΧ΢, ΦϲάΥΩΫ and possibly ̥ВΞΟΜ÷ΤΫ owe to an Anatolian tendency to realize word-initial /d-/ as /l-/. Lydian and Lycian both had phonotactic restrictions for /d/ in word-initial position (see Pedersen 1945: 42; Melchert 1993: 249, 252; Van den Hout 1995: 133) and we know that Lydian adapted the Aeolic Greek divine names ̞Μ÷ηέ΢Ϊ ‘Demeter’ and ̞ΠВΫ ‘Zeus’ as lamӼtru and lewŻ/lefŻ, substituting /d/ with /l/ (Melchert 1994: 335, with references).ɏ10 The suitable typological parallel from a contemporary language is provided by Yaqui, a Uto-Aztecan tongue of northwestern Mexico, which reportedly replaced foreign [d] with either [r] or [l] in words loaned from Spanish: cf. Yaqui lios < Spanish Dios ‘God’ (Estrada Fernández 2009: 834, 844–846). In terms of articulation, the substitution of [l] for a dental stop is unsurprising. A lateral approximant is essentially a coronal sound articulated with occlusion, the latter being the most salient feature of stops (Ladefoged and Maddieson 1996: 182–183). We might expect Greek [d] to have been adapted as Lydian [t], which is its voiceless counterpart and exists as a phoneme in the latter language. Yet the preference for [l] over [t] seems plausible if we assume that the feature of voicing was perceptually favored by speakers of Lydian, or of any other Anatolian language, when adapting foreign [d]. From this perspective, [l] obviously has the advantage.ɏ11 I therefore find it likely that Pergaean ΦϲάΥΩΫ and ΦηίΧ΢ correspond to standard ΟϲάΥΩΫ and ΟηίΧ΢ as uttered by native speakers of a local Anatolian dialect with such phonotactic reI am thankful to Zsolt Simon for this reference. It is to be noticed that already Popko (2008: 136) compares Dugdammê > ̥ВΞΟΜ÷ΤΫ with the Lydian adaptation of Greek Ο- as l-. 11 Compare for example Nahuatl, another Uto-Aztecan language of Mexico: Spanish Dios was borrowed as tios certainly because Nahuatl prohibited [l] in initial position; conversely, [l] was allowed medially, so we find Nahuatl expala for Spanish espada (cf. Bierhorst 1985: 122, 321). 9

10

55

Miguel Valério

strictions.ɏ12 Likewise, a virtual *ΟΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ, cognate with Mycenaean da-pu(2)-ri-to-, may have been the Ionian form used in Western Anatolia, including Herodotus’ native Caria, before a local variant ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ emerged amongst speakers who had Greek as second language and an Anatolian dialect as their mother tongue. It would not be too surprising to find a secondary dialectal form such as ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ in literary works (Herodotus) and official temple inscriptions (Didyma) instead of a more conservative *ΟΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ. Languages often retain two distinct words with the same etymology, one standard, and the other dialectal but borrowed into standard speech. We may compare modern Spanish huelga [wel՜a] ‘strike; repose’ vs. juerga [xweഷ՜a] ‘spree, binge’ (cf. Pountain 2003: 283), the latter originally a Western Andalusian form. Occasionally, dialectal forms may even completely replace standard ones. Since Caria is the area connected with the first examples of ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ and may be where the form emerged, we need to account for another possible obstacle. Unlike Lydian or Lycian d, the fricative nature of Carian d is much more uncertain. Adiego (2007: 245–249) argues that, as in the other two Anatolian languages mentioned, Anatolian /d/ may have become voiceless /t/ (written t) in initial position in Carian. In this case, d might represent a fricative as well. Examples of word-initial Carian d are scarce, not just in the Carian documentation, but also in the indirect evidence of Greek-written onomastics. Moreover, some of the existing examples could be the outcome of underrepresented initial vowels (cf. dquq = ̣ΟΜΞήΞΩΫ). Yet not all of the cases can beyond doubt be analyzed along these lines, and the evidence for Carian is not as positive as that of Lycian or Lydian (Adiego 2007: 245–246). Pending further discoveries, the lack of initial /d/ in Carian should be considered as unconfirmed. In any event, it remains possible that ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ comes not from Caria, but rather from another Anatolianspeaking region in Southern or Western Asia Minor, for example Pamphylia or Lydia.

5. Final remarks I hope to have shown that there is no compelling basis to assume that the contrast between Linear B d and alphabetical Φ in da-pu(2)-ri-to- ~ ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ reflects a “special” Minoan phoneme that underlay Linear A d Ɇ be it a coronal fricative /ð/, a lateral affricate /tഅ/, or even a lateral coronal fricative /ಷ/. Rather, it is much more economical to interpret ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ and other Greek forms as the result of a relatively late and localized shift /d-/ > /l-/, possibly as the result of contact with Anatolian languages during the 1st millennium BCE. The implications are manifold. First, we should be wary of past etymologies of da-pu(2)-ri-to~ ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ involving forms with initial /l-/, such as the Carian epithet ̥ΜΝΪΜΧΟϑήΫ ‘of Labraunda’ and the alleged Lydian word ΦηΝΪήΫ ‘axe’ (Kretschmer 1896, Evans 1921), Greek ΦηήΪΜ ‘alley, lane, passage’ (Smith 1859, Güntert 1932), and even ΦηΝΤΪΩΫ х ΝЅΣήΧΩΫ ‘hole’ (Smith 1859), the latter from Hesychius’ lexicon (see Latte 1956). As argued above, Linear B da-pu(2)-ri-to- most probably reflects a noun */daphúrinthos/, in turn related to Linear A du-pu2-re, a word of uncertain meaning but connected to the religious sphere.ɏ13 Secondly, there are important ramifications for our understanding of the Aegean and Cypriot syllabaries, namely Dressel (1965: 187) and Brixhe (1976: 83, n. 16) associate the Ο- > Φ- shift in Pergaean ΦηίΧ΢ and ΦϲάΥΩΫ with the rhoticism (Ο > Ϊ) of Pamphylian Greek, whereby /l/ and /r/ would be alternative outcomes of a weakened */d/. However, as Brixhe himself notes, rhoticism affects particularly intervocalic -Ο- in Pamphylian (and a similar shift occurred in Luwian as well). Thus, it cannot be evoked to account for the words in question here without making additional assumptions. 13 See nn. 2 and 3 above. 12

56

̥ΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ and word-initial lambdacism in Anatolian Greek

Linear A, Linear B and Cypro-Minoan (see Valério 2015, 2016). It is a key point that there is now no serious obstacle to the notion that the Linear A d series transcribed a voiced coronal obstruent /d/.ɏ14 Finally, the present results are of consequence for questions relating to linguistic interactions between the Aegean and Anatolia in the 2nd millennium BCE.

Acknowledgements

Ignasi-Xavier Adiego, Zsolt Simon and Alexius Belov made useful suggestions to improve this article. As usual, the responsibility for the views expressed here and any remaining errors is mine alone.

References Adiego, Ignasi-Xavier. 2007. The Carian Language: With an Appendix by K. Konuk, Leiden / Boston: Brill. Aura Jorro, Francisco. 1985. Diccionario griego-español, Anejo I: Diccionario Micenico. Vol. I. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas. Bennett, Emmett L. 1958. The Mycenaean Tablets II. Transactions of the American Philosophical Society 48: 1–122. Bierhorst, John. 1985. A Nahuatl-English dictionary and concordance to the Cantares Mexicanos with an analytical transcription and grammatical notes. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Billigmeier, Jon-Christian. 1989. The Linear A Libation Formula Revisited. American Philological Association: 121st Annual Meeting: Boston, Massachusetts, December 27–30, 1989: Abstracts. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 109. Brixhe, Claude. 1976. Le dialecte grec de Pamphylie. Documents et grammaire. Paris: Adrien-Maisonneuve. Cagiano, Michaelangelo. 1958. Saggio sul labirinto. Milan: Vita e Pensiero. Chantraine, Pierre. 1999. Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque. Histoire des Mots. Nouvelle edition avec supplément. Paris: Klincksieck. Davis, Brent. 2014. Minoan Stone Vessels with Linear A Inscriptions (Aegaeum 36), Leuven/Liège: Peeters. Dressler, Wolfgang. 1965. Pamphylisch -Ώ- zu -Ϊ-: ein weiterer Substrateinfluß? Archiv Orientální 33(2): 183–189. Estrada Fernández, Zarina. 2009. Loanwords in Yaqui, a Uto-Aztecan language of Northwestern Mexico. In M. Haspelmath and U. Tadmor (eds.), Loanwords in the World’s Languages: a Comparative Handbook. Berlin: De Gruyter, 823–845. Faure, Paul. 1964. Fonctions des cavernes crétoises (École Française d’Athènes, Travaux et mémoires 14). Paris: É. de Boccard. Fontenrose, Joseph Eddy. 1988. Didyma: Apollo's Oracle, Cult, and Companions. Berkeley: University of California Press. Furnée, Edzard J. 1972. Die wichtigsten konsonantischen Erscheinungen des Vorgriechischen. The Hague: Mouton. Güntert, Hermann. 1932. Labyrinth, eine sprachwissenschaftliche Untersuchung. Heidelberg: C. Winters Universitätsbuchhandlung. Heubeck, Alfred. 1957. Linear B und das ägäische Substrat. Minos 5: 149–153. Kassian, Alexei. 2010. Hattic as a Sino-Caucasic language. Ugarit-Forschungen 41: 309–447. For a more detailed argument, see Valério (2016: 203—209, 226, 288—293). The more probable interpretation of Linear A d as a coronal obstruent agrees well with the evidence that signs ultimately derived from the Linear A d and t series appear to be merged in the Cypro-Greek t = /d, t, th/ series, likely as a result of developments in Cypro-Minoan. Steele (2014) also revisits the problem of the dental and liquid series in the Aegean-Cypriot syllabaries, along with Lejeune’s hypothesis. In addition to the scenario upheld here, she considers another possibility: Linear B d and t were the product of the splitting of what was a single coronal series in Linear A; in parallel, this single series was inherited by Cypro-Minoan and then by Cypro-Greek. This hypothesis is less likely given the comparatively greater number of (probable) Linear A d and t signs in comparison to the counterparts in CyproMinoan and the Cypro-Greek syllabary. This apparent reduction is more suggestive of a merger of two coronal series on Cyprus. 14

57

Miguel Valério

Kretschmer, Paul. 1894. Die griechischen Vaseninschriften ihrer Sprache nach untersucht. Gütersloh: Bertelsmann. Kretschmer, Paul. 1896. Einleitung in die Geschichte der Griechischen Sprache. Gottingen: Vandenhoed & Ruprecht. Kuhrt, Amelie. 1987. Lygdamis. In: E. Ebling, B. Meissner, E. Weidner and D. O. Edzard (eds.), Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie. B. 7(3/4): 186–189. Berlin/New York: De Gruyter. Ladefoged, Peter, Ian Maddieson. 1996: The Sounds of the World’s Languages. Oxford: Blackwell. Latte, Kurt. 1956. Hesychii Alexandrini lexicon [recensuit et emendavit Kurt Latte], Vol. II: ̟-̩. Copenhagen: Ejnar Munksgaard. Lejeune, Michel. 1958. Mémoires de philologie mycénienne, Vol. 1. Paris: Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique. Lejeune, Michel. 1972. Phonétique historique du mycénien et du grec ancien. Paris: Éditions Klincksieck. Liddell, Henry G., Robert Scott. 1940. A Greek-English Lexicon. 9th edition, revised and augmented throughout by Sir Henry Stuart Jones with the assistance of Roderick McKenzie. Oxford: Clarendon Press. McCabe, Donald F. 1985. Dydima Inscriptions. Texts and List. Princeton: The Institute for Advanced Study. Melchert, H. Craig. 1993. Historical Phonology of Anatolian. Journal of Indo-European Studies 21: 237–257. Melchert, H. Craig. 1994. Anatolian Historical Phonology (Leiden Studies in Indo-European 3). Amsterdam: Rodopi. Montegu, John C. 1976. Note on the Labyrinths of Didyma. American Journal of Archaeology 80(3): 304–305. Palmer, Leonard R. 1955. Observations on the Linear B Tablets from Mycenae. Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies 2/1: 36–45. Pedersen, Holger. 1945. Lykisch und Hethitisch. Det Kgl. Danske Vidensk. Selskab Hist.-filol. Meddelser 30/4. Munskgaard. Popko, Maciej. 2008. Völker und Sprachen Altanatoliens. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Pountain, Christopher. 2003. Exploring the Spanish Language. London: Arnold. Sarullo, Giulia. 2008. The Cretan Labyrinth: Palace or Cave? Caerdroia 37: 31–40. Smith, William (ed.). 1859. A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities. 2nd Edition. Boston: Little, Brown, and Co. Steele, Philippa M. 2014. The /d/, /t/, /l/ and /r/ Series in Linear A and Linear B, Cypro-Minoan and the Cypriot Syllabary: Some Observations. Pasiphae VIII: 189–196. Svantesson, Jan-Olof, Anna Tsendina, Anastasia Karlsson, Vivan Franzen. 2005. The Phonology of Mongolian. Oxford: University Press. Tokhtas’ev, Sergey R. 2007. Der Name des kimmerischen Königs Lygdamis. In: J. Cobet (ed.), Frühes Ionien. Milesische Forschungen 5: 607–612. Mainz: Philipp von Zabern. Trümpy, Catherine. 2001. Potnia dans les tablettes mycéniennes: quelques problèmes d’interpretation. In: R. Laffineur, R. Hägg (eds.). Potnia, Deities and Religion in the Aegean Bronze Age: Proceedings of the 8th International Aegean Conference, Göteborg University, 12–15 April 2000: 411–421. Liège: Université de Liège. Valério, Miguel. 2007. ‘Diktaian Master’: A Minoan Predecessor of Diktaian Zeus in Linear A? Kadmos 46: 3–14. Valério, Miguel. 2015. Linear A du-pu2-re, Hittite tabarna and their alleged relatives revisited. Journal of Language Relationship 13/4: 329–354. Valério, Miguel. 2016. Investigating the Signs and Sounds of Cypro-Minoan. Unpublished PhD Dissertation, University of Barcelona. van den Hout, Theo P. J. 1995. Lycian Consonantal Orthography and Some of Its Consequences for Lycian Phonology. In: T. P. J. van den Hout, J. de Roos (eds.). Studio Historiae Ardens: Ancient Near Eastern Studies Presented Philo H. J. Houwink ten Cate on the Occasion of his 65th Birthday. 105–141. Istanbul: Nederlands HistorischArchaeologisch Instituut. Ventris, Michael, John Chadwick. 1973. Documents in Mycenaean Greek, 2nd ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Yakubovich, Ilya. 2002. Labyrinth for Tyrants. Studia Linguarum 3(1) (GS. A. A. Korolev): 93–116. Moscow: Languages of Slavonic Culture.

ʈˌʼˀ˕˰ ɰʸ˕ˀ˛ˌ˟. ̥ΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ ˘ ˁˣ༤ˁ˫˪ˣ˻˙ ༤ˁˢ˄ˊˁ˴˘˖ˢ ˅ ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˥ˢ ˆ˧ˋ˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ɳ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ˫˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁˋ˪˨̀, ˵˪˥ ˦ˁ˧ˁ ༤˘ˣˋ˙ˣ˥ˋ B da-pu(2)-ri-to- ~ ˆ˧ˋ˵. ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ ˣˋ ˥˪˧ˁːˁˋ˪ ˨˘ˣ˲˧˥ˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˅ˁ˧˼˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ /d/ ˘ /l/ ˅ ˢ˘˜ˋˣ˨˜˥ˢ ˆ˧ˋ˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ, ˘ ˦˥̀˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ /l-/ ˅˻˖˅ˁˣ˥ ˦˥˖ˊˣˋ˙˸˘ˢ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊ˥ˢ. ɳ˻ˊ˅˘ˆˁˋ˪˨̀ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖ˁ, ˵˪˥ ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ˘˪ ˥˪ ˣˋ˖ˁ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ *ΟΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ, ˆˊˋ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊ ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ /d/ ˅ /l/ ˦˧˥˘˖˥˸ˋ༤ ˅ ˿ːˣ˥˙ 58

̥ΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ and word-initial lambdacism in Anatolian Greek

˘༤˘ ˖ˁ˦ˁˊˣ˥˙ ɯˣˁ˪˥༤˘˘ ˦˥ˊ ˅༤˘̀ˣ˘ˋˢ ˣˋ˜˥ˋˆ˥ ˢˋ˨˪ˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ, ˅ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˢ ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˼ˣ˻˙ /d/ ˄˻༤ ˣˋ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˋˣ. ʕ˥ ːˋ ˥˄˺̀˨ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˧ˋˊ༤ˁˆˁˋ˪˨̀ ˊ༤̀ ΦηίΧ΢ ˘ ΦϲάΥΩΫ, ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ɴˋ˨˘˲˘˙ ˆ༤˥˨˨˘˧˫ˋ˪ ˜ˁ˜ ˦ˋ˧ˆˋ˙˨˜˘ˋ (˦ˁˢ˱˘༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ) ˱˥˧ˢ˻ ˆ˧ˋ˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ΟηίΧ΢ «༤ˁ˅˧» ˘ ΟϲάΥΩΫ «ˊ˘˨˜», ˘ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˊ༤̀ ˜˘ˢˢˋ˧˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ˢˋˣ˘ Dugdammê/̥ВΞΟΜ÷ΤΫ. ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: ΦΜΝВΪΤΧΣΩΫ; ˢ˘˜ˋˣ˨˜˘˙ ˆ˧ˋ˵ˋ˨˜˘˙; ༤ˁˢ˄ˊˁ˴˘˖ˢ; ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘; ʌ˘ˆˊˁˢ˘˨; ༤˘ˣˋ˙ˣ˥ˋ A

59

Mariona Vernet University of Barcelona; [email protected]

Hi-inflected verbal *CóC-stems in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian࣠1 In Luwian, as in Hittite, the *CóC-stem formation is the counterpart of PIE. perfect *C1e-C1óC2-. In Proto-Anatolian, the PIE. perfect shows very few traces of reduplication; principally, it shows only the o-ablaut. Structurally, the Hittite -hi verbs are best compared to the PIE. perfect *u๞oid- ‘to know’, which was unreduplicated. While this situation has been examined in depth in the case of Hittite, a study of this kind focusing specifically on Luwian is still lacking. This article aims to explore this issue for Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian. Key words: -hi verbs in Luwian, Anatolian verbal morphology, Anatolian unreduplicated perfect stems.

1. Introduction It is well known that the conjugation of the Hittite finite verb is dominated by two sets of endings in the active singular, present and preterit, with no functional difference: these are known as the -mi conjugation and the -hi conjugation. Luwian (Hieroglyphic Luwian and Cuneiform Luwian) has one verbal conjugation comparable to the Hittite -mi conjugation, and some (though very few) traces of a second -hi conjugation. A brief examination of Luwian (and also of Lycian and Palaic) indicates that the minor Anatolian languages do not show a distinction between the -mi and -hi conjugations within the active category, which is crucial in Hittite; in contrast, it seems that their present stems generalized the -mi series, while the preterite stems generalized the -ha series: Table 1. Present and preterite verbal endings of the -mi and -hi conjugation in Luwian Present

Cuneiform Luwian -mi

-‫ܔ‬i

-mi

-‫ܜ‬i

act. sg. 1

pl.

Hieroglyphic Luwian -‫ܔ‬i -‫ܜ‬i

2

-ši, -tiš, -šši

-šši, -ti

3

-ti, -tti-

-(a)i

-si, -tis -ti, -ri,

i, ia

1

-unni

2

-ttani?࣠2

-tani

3

-anti

-nti

1

This paper was written thanks to the ‘Ramón y Cajal’ postdoctoral Fellowship from the Ministerio de Ciencia e Innovación (Ref. RYC-2012-11226) and to the research project Los dialectos lúvicos del grupo anatolio en su contexto lingüístico, geográfico e histórico (FFI2015-68467-C2-1-P) granted by the ministry. 2 See Melchert 2003: 192. Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/1 (2017) • Pp. 60–68 • © The authors, 2017

Hi-inflected verbal *CóC-stems in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian

Preterite act. sg. 1

Cuneiform Luwian -mi

-‫ܔ‬i

-‫ܔ‬a, -‫ܔܔ‬a

-‫ܔܔ‬a

-mi

-‫ܔ‬i -ha(n)࣠3

-š

2 3

Hieroglyphic Luwian

-ta, -tta

-tta

-ta -ta, -ra

-ta

pl. 1 2 3

-a(u)nta

-a(u)nta

But a closer look at the data (see table 1) shows that Luwian shares the same feature in the endings of present and preterite: there are two sets of endings which correspond to the -mi and -hi conjugations (see Morpurgo-Davies 1980 and 1982). This observation is especially evident in the 3sg present endings, since the same phenomenon is attested in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian and probably in Lycian (for Lycian, see Vernet in print). It is precisely this 3sg present that I have used as the basis for my compilation of the Luwian -hi verbs in order to focus on the -hi inflected verbal *CóC-stems documented in Luwian, as I will explain in the following sections (2 and 2.1).

2. -hi verbs in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian (3sg.pres. -i, -ia) In their studies of the -hi verbs in Anatolian, scholars seem to have focused almost exclusively on Hittite, or at least have taken Hittite -hi inflected verbs as their point of departure. The contributions of Eichner 1975, Oettinger 1979, Jasanoff 2003, and the study on the Hittite verbal stems presented by Kloekhorst 2008 are examples of the interest this issue has raised in Hittite studies. But as far as I know, despite the contributions by Morpurgo-Davies (1979) and Yoshida (1993), a study of this kind focusing specifically on Luwian is still lacking. In order to study these characteristics focusing on the -hi conjugation in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian, I began by producing a compilation of all the -hi inflected verbs in Luwian, and then used it to try to identify the verbs which show -hi inflected verbal *CóC-stems. As mentioned above, since the only way we have of knowing whether a verb follows the -hi inflection in Luwian is the 3sg present ending in -i (and not -ti, -ri, which follow the -mi inflection), all the verbs for which this -i ending is attested were included.௘4 I used the following reference works: for Cuneiform Luwian, Melchert’s dictionary (1993), the Cuneiform Luwian Lexicon, and Yakubovich’s online Annotated Corpus of Luwian Texts (henceforth ACLT); for Hieroglyphic Luwian, Hawkins 2000, and once again Yakubovich’s Annotated Corpus of Luwian Texts. 3

The distinction CLuwian made between -‫ܔ‬a and -‫ܔܔ‬a (lenited vs. non-lenited) in the first person singular preterite cannot be found in HLuwian due to its imprecise writing system. However, the fact that the writing system of HLuwian does not reflect this distinction does not mean necessarily that it would have not existed in HLuwian (see. Melchert 2003: 192; Yakubovich 2015, § 6.5, and Melchert forthcom.). Lycian, a Luwic language of the first millennium closely related to Luwian, still documents a double ending for the first person singular preterite: -gã and -Πã, -Πa (see Vernet in print). 4 For CLuwian I also consider the likelihood (observed by Melchert 1993: iv) of a CLuwian second singular -hi present ending -ti beside the third singular ending -(a)i, which only occurs in three verbs: lŊla-, nana- and waliya-. 61

Mariona Vernet

2.1 *CóC-stems in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian In Luwian, as in Hittite, the *CóC-stem formation is the counterpart of PIE. perfect *C1e-C1óC2-. In PA., the PIE. perfect shows hardly any traces of a reduplication syllable, only the o-ablaut. Nevertheless, a few examples have a reduplication syllable and may have had a PIE. perfect origin. But structurally, the Hittite -hi verbs are best compared to the unreduplicated PIE. Perfect *u๞oid- ‘to know’ (documented in Ved. véda, OAv. vaŖda, Gk. ΩϽΟΜ, Goth. weit ‘he knows’, see LIV2: 666), which comes from the PIE. verbal root *u๞eid- ‘to see’ (see Lat. uŢdŢ, Gk. ΠϽΟΩΧ ‘I saw’ < root aorist *u๞eid-/ u๞id-, or Lat. videŵ, Goth. witan ‘to see’ < *u๞eid-eh1-, etc. s. LIV2: 665–666; for Latin see de Vaan 2008 s.v. videŵ). According to Kloekhorst (2008: 137), PIE. ablaut *o/Ø underlies all the ablauting -hi verbs attested in Hittite. But whereas the situation in Hittite has been well investigated by scholars (see Sec. 2 above), as far as I know, a study of -hi inflected verbal *CóC-stems focusing specifically on Luwian is still lacking. In my opinion, the situation of Luwian is similar to that of Hittite: we have very few examples of a reduplicated stem (< PIE. perfect *C1e-C1óC2-),௘5 and we also find some cases of unreduplicated *CóC-stems which are -hi inflected and may have had a PIE. perfect origin. According to the data I have compiled, in Luwian there are six examples of this stem formation: — — — — — —

CLuw. lŊ, HLuw. la- (i) ‘to take’ CLuw. pai๞- ‘to give’, (HLuw. piya- ‘id’) HLuw. was- ‘to buy’ Probably PLuw. *zahha- (cf. HLuw. zahhanuwa ‘to attack’)௘6 Maybe CLuw. paš- ‘to swallow’ (see pappaša- ‘id.’) Maybe CLuw. tŊ- ‘to stand’ and HLuw. ta- ‘id.’

These examples are important because it has sometimes been debated whether Hittite and Luwian or the Luwic languages really had etymologically connected -hi inflected verbs. In the light of this study, it seems evident that there did indeed exist inherited -hi verbs in both branches, although the examples are few; we will see this in detail below. In what follows I present the list of -hi inflected verbs with a *CóC-stem formation. For each verb I indicate the passages where a 3sg pres. in -i/-ia ending is attested, because this is 5

The data I have gathered suggest that Luwian has a few verbs which show reduplication of the stem and have cognates in Hittite, and they are most certainly inherited. These examples can be interpreted as coming from PIE. perfects *C1e-C1óC2- but also as reduplicated historical stems from a basis attested in Luwian, as for instance: — CLuw. and HLuw. mammanna-i ‘to see’ (< PIE. perfect *me-món/mn-, although it could also be analysed as a reduplicated historical stem from CLuw. manŊ- (ti) ‘to see’). — CLuw. nana (i) ‘to lead’ (reduplicated form of cognate of Hitt. nŊ(i)-i / *ni- ‘to turn, lead, send’. In my opinion, a parallel cognate of derivative is Hitt. nanna-i / nanni-). — HLuw. sasa- (i) ‘to release’ (redupl. form of sa- (i) ‘id.’ (CLuw. and HLuw.); cognate of Hitt. sai-i/si- ‘to

impress, to seal’ (Eichner 1983: 48-66) and sissai-/ssis- ‘to impress’ < PIE. *seh1(i)- ‘säen, loslassen’ (LIV2: 518), cfr. Lat. serŵ, Goth. saian, Lith. sŕяju, OCS sœjা ‘to sow’). HLuw. tatta- (i) ‘to stand’ (maybe < PIE. perfect *ste-stoh2 or instead, a reduplicated stem formed in historical times). Luwian has other instances of reduplicated -hi inflected verbal stems, such as in ililha- (i) ‘to wash (off)’ —

(CLuw.), but with obscure etymology. In other examples, such as in CLuw. pupulla[ ‘to write’, or HLuw. puballa- ‘to scribble’, which do have reduplication of the stem, it is not possible to determine if they follow a -hi conjugation or not. In all these examples it is not possible to reconstruct either a PA. or PIE. etymology or an inherited -hi conjugation; consequently, they cannot be analysed as stems inherited from PIE. perfects. 6

In this case, as in the following example, I must reconstruct a PLuw. -hi stem which is only indirectly documented in Luwian (via a derivative verbal stem), but is well attested in Hittite as a -hi verb. 62

Hi-inflected verbal *CóC-stems in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian

how we know whether or not a verb follows the -hi conjugation. I also indicate whether it is attested in Cuneiform or Hieroglyphic Luwian, or in both, and finally I give an etymology of the verb, indicating its Anatolian cognates and its PIE. origin whenever possible. §ɍ1. la- (i) ‘to take’ (CLuw. lŊ- and HLuw. la-) Melchert 1993: 120; ACLT s.v. Cuneiform Luwian: no examples of 3sg. present are attested, whereas in HLuwian there are a great many examples (see the section below). The logogram CAPERE is frequently used for rendering the root. CLuwian shows long Ŋ in the stem in some instances: 3sg. pret. act. la-aat-ta, 3sg.imp.act. la-a-ad-du, 3pl.imp.act. la-a-an-du), just as in Hitt. dŊ-/ d- ‘to take’ (see the etymology of this section below). Hieroglyphic Luwian: KARKAMIŠ A2+3 § 20: wa/i-tà-tá-’ ¦za-a-ti-i (DEUS)TONITRUS-ti-i ARHA ¦CAPERE-i ‘(and) takes them away from his Karkamišean Tarhunzas,’ Also documented in: BOROWSKI 3 § 9; ARSUZ 2 §23 (s. Yakubovich ACLT s.v.); BOYBEYPINARI 2 § 19; ANCOZ 7 B § 4; KARKAMIŠ A15b § 12; ALEPPO 2 § 13; ALEPPO 2 § 18; KARKAMIŠ A2+3 § 20; BOROWSKI 3 § 9; ARSUZ 2 § 23 (s. Yakubovich ACLT s.v.); ANCOZ 7 B § 4; KARKAMIŠ A15b § 12; III. ALEPPO 2 § 13; ALEPPO 2 § 18; KÖRKÜN 4 § 8; ARSUZ 1 § 23 (s. Yakubovich ACLT s.v.); KÖTÜKALE 5 § 5; KARKAMIŠ A6 § 28; KARKAMIŠ A6 § 30; KARKAMIŠ A6 § 27; KARKAMIŠ A4a § 12; ASMACIK l.1–2; KELEKLĔ 3 § 2; HAMA 5 1 § 1; HAMA 4 § 8. ETYMOLOGY: PIE. deh3- ‘to give’, cfr. Skt. dádŊti, Av. daΏŊiti, Arm. tam, Gk. ΟϲΟβ÷Τ, Lat. dŵ, dare, OLith. duosti, OCS daxˮ ‘he gave’. Anatolian cognates: Hitt. dŊ-i / d- ‘to take, to wed, to decide’, a -hi verb. Pal. unclear: da‫ܔܔ‬a ‘?’ (1sg.pret.act); CLuw. and HLuw. lala ‘to take’ show a reduplicated verbal root; Lyc. B da- ‘take’ ?. The exact morphological interpretation of Hitt. dŊ-iɌ/Ɍd- ‘to take, to wed, to decide’ has caused some debate among scholars. Eichner (1975: 93f.), followed by Oettinger (1979: 500f.), contends that this verb was middle in origin and that 1sg.aor.midd. *dh3h2á and 2sg.aor.midd. *dh3th2á regularly yielded Hitt. *da‫ܔܔ‬a and **datta, on the basis of which an active paradigm was built: dŊ‫ܔܔ‬i, dŊtti, dŊi, etc. In a similar way, Melchert (1984: 25) proposed that 3sg.pres.midd *dh3-e/o should be reinterpreted as a stem *dh3e/o- + zero ending, which caused the spread of this thematic stem in the singular, yielding *dh3e/o-h2ei, *dh3e/o-th2ei, dh3e/o-ei. But Eichner’s assumption that *Ch3C > Hitt. CŊC has no parallels; nor does Melchert’s construct of a thematic -hi verb. In my view, Kloekhorst’s interpretation fits better. According to him, Hitt. dŊ-i / d- ‘to take, to wed, to decide’ was not originally middle, but a normal -hi inflecting root-present, and just like all -hi verbs it shows an original *o grade: *doh3-h2ei, *doh3-th2ei, *doh3-ei, *dh3-u๞éni, etc. These forms regularly yield dŊ‫ܔܔ‬e, dŊtti, dŊi, tumŖni, etc. The same interpretation should be applied to CLuw. lŊ- ‘to take’, which still shows a long root vowel, and HLuw. la- ‘id.’, a -hi verb. Lyc. B. da- ‘take’ ? is attested in the following passages (Melchert 2004; Neumann 2007): pret. 3Sg date 55,3. imv. 3Sg dadu 44d 36. Shevoroshkin (2002: 138ff.) analyses it as a verb with the meaning ‘take’, equivalent to Hitt. da- ‘take’ according to Neumann (2007 s.v.). Since all the Anatolian languages show -hi 63

Mariona Vernet

conjugation, and since Lyc. B 3sg pret. does not indicate otherwise (there are no traces of lenition in pret.3sg), in my view (Vernet in print) it is highly plausible that this verb has inherited the -hi conjugation. Since these forms show a -hi inflection and are cognates, this verb must have been inherited and reconstructed for PA. It also seems plausible that it had an *o-ablaut. §ɍ2. pai- (i) ‘to give (?)’ (CLuw.) Melchert 1993: 163; ACLT s.v. CLuw. pai- < *PA. pói-. Cfr. CLuw. and HLuw. pia- ‘to give’, a -hi verb, Lyc. pije- ‘to give’ < thematicized stem *pii๞o-. ETYMOLOGY: Cognate to Hitt. pai-i / pi- ‘to give’, which clearly shows an ablaut pai- / pi- and a -hi inflection and Lyc. pije- ‘to give’. In my opinion, and also according to Kloekhorst (2008: 615) this situation should also be reconstructed for PA. Luw. piya- and Lycian pije- generalized the thematicized stem *pii๞o- with zero grade of the stem. However, CLuw. has preserved some Ištanuwian forms that reflect the full grade of the root pai- < *pói- ‘to give’. As far as the PIE. etymology is concerned, the verb is generally explained as a univerbation of the preverb pe- + *(h1)ai- or *(H)ei-, connected with Toch. B ai-, Toch. A e- ‘to give’ and Gk. ΜϺΧή÷Τ ‘to take’. Lyd. bi- ‘give’ (Gusmani 1964: 78) would then come from PIE. *h1ai๞- ‘geben; nehmen’ (LIV2: 229). Kloekhorst (2008: 615) prefers to reconstruct another root, and proposes *h1ep- ‘to seize, to grab’ as is clear from Alb. ap- ‘to give’ and Germ. *geb- ‘to give’ (< *ga- + *h1ep-), and reconstructs a present stem *h1p-oi- / *h1p-i- for PA. *pói- /pi-. In my view, since Hitt., CLuw., HLuw. and Lyc. show -hi inflection of the verb, this inflection together with an *o-ablaut should also be reconstructed for PA. §ɍ3. was- (i) ‘to buy’ (HLuw.) Hieroglyphic Luwian: KULULU lead strip 2 §ɏ1, 2: 68 OVIS-na Ila-li-sá Imara/i-sà-ta-ia ¦pi-ia-i ¦ku-ki-sà-ta-za ¦kwa/i-za ¦wa/i-si-i ‘68 sheep Lalis gives to Marasatas, so that he will buy them for the KUKISATI’S’ ETYMOLOGY: In my view, a cognate parallel of Hitt. u๞Ŋš-i ‘to buy’, which already shows -hi inflection in the oldest forms, as in HLuwian. In this case a PA. -hi inflected verb must be reconstructed from PIE. *u๞ós-ei๞ (see Kloekhorst 2008: 980 who does not mention the example of HLuw.), with the following IE. cognates: Skt. vasná- ‘price’, Gk. ЭΧΩΫ (n.) ‘price’, Lat. vŖnum dare ‘to sell’, Arm. gin ‘price’ < *u๞esno-. Hitt. ušnii๞e/a-zi reflects a zero grade of the same root. In NS texts, a derived stem u๞Ŋšii๞e/a-zi can be found. §ɍ4. PLuw. *zahha- (cfr. HLuw. zahhanu(wa)- (i) ‘to attack’) In my opinion, HLuw. zahhanu(wa)- ‘to attack’ is the causative of a basis stem *zahha-, not attested in Luwian but a parallel cognate to Hitt. zŊ‫ܔ‬-iɌ/Ɍza‫ܔܔ‬- ‘to hit, to beat’, a -hi verb. According to Oettinger (1979: 446) and Kloekhorst (2008: 1020), it is likely that the -hi conjugation was the older one in Hittite. Kloekhorst (2008: 1020) reconstructs a root *ti๞eh2- for Hitt. zŊ‫ܔ‬-i (< *tióh2-ei) and connects it to Gk. άϰ÷Μ ‘sign’, Gk. άЬ÷Μ ‘corpse’, άϼέΩΫ ‘grain, food’. In Luwian the base verb *zahha- of zahhanu(wa)- is not attested, but since a derivate of it can be found and is well attested in Hittite, it is likely that an o-ablauting -hi verb in PA. existed as the origin of all these Anatolian cognates. 64

Hi-inflected verbal *CóC-stems in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian

§ɍ5. CLuw. paš- ‘to swallow’ (see pappaša- (i) ‘swallow’) (Melchert 1993: 165) (CLuw.) Cuneiform Luwian: Pres3Sg: pa-ap-pa-ša-i: KBo IV 14 iii 37 (+ ar‫ܔ‬a). ETYMOLOGY: CLuw. -hi verb pappaša- is a reduplicated variant of CLuw. pašš- ‘to swallow’ (3sg.pret.act. pa-aš-ta, inf. pa-aš-šu-u-na) and Hitt. pŊš-i / paš- ‘id.’ < PIE. *peh3(i๞)- ‘trinken’ (LIV2: 462; from a present stem *poh3-s-ei / *ph3senti, see Kloekhorst 2008: 649). Hitt. pŊš-i / paš- ‘to swallow’ shows -hi inflection together with some forms with -mi endings. However, the -hi inflection should be considered as the original one (in this regard, see Kloekhorst 2008: 649). Judging by the -hi infection of pappaša- (i) ‘to swallow’ and Hitt. pŊš-i / paš-, it is likely that the same -hi inflection operated in CLuw. pašš- ‘to swallow’ (as occurs, for instance, in CLuw. sa-‘to release’, HLuw. redupl. sassa- ‘id.’ and Hitt. sai-i /si, all three cases being -hi inflected), although no 3sg.pres. example that might confirm it is documented for CLuwian. If this is true, a -hi inflection with o-ablaut for *pŊš-/ paš- should be reconstructed for PA. §ɍ6. tŋ- (i) and ta- (i) ‘to stand’ (CLuw. and HLuw. respectively) Cuneiform Luwian tŊ-: 3sg.Pres. ta-a-i (KBo XXIX 31 iv 6 (?)). Hieroglyphic Luwian ta-: KARATEPE 1 Hu. § XLVIII 261–272: wa/i-na ¦i-zi-sa-tu-na ta-ia (“FLUMEN”)há-pa+ra/i-sá ¦OMNIS.MI-i-sá ¦(ANNUS)u-si mara/i BOS.ANIMAL-sá (*486)kwa/i-tu-na-ha (OVIS.ANIMAL) há-wa/i-sá ¦“VITIS”(-)há+ra/i-ha OVIS.ANIMAL-wa/i-sa ‘and every river-land will begin to honor him: by (?) the year an ox, and at the cutting (?) a sheep and at the vintage a sheep’ KARATEPE 1 Hu. § LXXV 408–412: (DEUS)LUNA+MI-sa-wa/i (DEUS)SOL-ha kwa/i-ri+i ála/i-ma-za “CRUS”-i ‘as the Moon’s and the Sun’s name stands’ Also documented in: KARKAMIŠ A2+3 § 18; ALEPPO 2 § 25; SULTANHAN 2 § 38; SULTANHAN F1 § 40; BABYLON 1 5 § 10; YUNUS (KARKAMIŠ) § 4 (s. Yakubovich ACLT); TĔLSEVET (alias EKĔNVEREN) 3 § 6; KARKAMIŠ A18h § 4; CEKKE 11; KARATEPE 1 Ho. §ɏXLVIII 261–272; HĔSARCIK 1 § 3; SULTANHAN § 39; SULTANHAN § 21; KARKAMIŠ A5a §ɏ12; BOROWSKI 1, 2 (s. Yakubovich ACLT); KARKAMIŠ A2+3 § 18; ARSUZ 2 (AMUQ) § 5 (s. Yakubovich ACLT); KARKAMIŠ A5a § 13. ETYMOLOGY: < PIE. *(s)teh2- ‘wohin treten, sich hinstellen’ (LIV2: 590; IEW 1004–8), cfr. Ved. ásthŊt ‘ist getreten’, Arm. er-tແa- ‘gehen’, Gk. Ϙάέ΢Χ ‘trat, stellte mich hin’, etc. Morpurgo Davies (1987: 205–228) connected the Luwian tŊ- and ta- verbs with Hitt. tii๞e/a- ‘to step, to go stand’. Lyc. stta- ‘to stand’ is controversial (see the section below). For CLuw. tŊ- and HLuw. ta-, LIV2 reconstructs a PIE. perfect stem *ste-stóh2/sth2-, whereas in Kloekhorst’s view (2008: 880) they come from a present stem with o-ablaut *(s)tóh2-ei, which in my opinion fits better, judging by its -hi inflection. In these examples, the loss of its -‫ܔ‬- can be explained by analogy with all other forms of the paradigm where *h2 is dropped in preconsonantal position (see Kloekhorst 2008: 880). Lyc. stta- ‘to stand’ is a matter of controversy among scholars, who consider it to be either a loanword from Gk. ϸάέ΢÷Τ or a verbal form inherited from PIE. *steh2-; maybe, as Neumann suggests (2007: 333), following Oettinger, it is a reduplicated form *ste-ste (< *steh2-) > dissimilation *ste-te > stte- with geminated consonant. In any case, the original verbal stem of Lyc. clearly differs from the verbal stem of Luw. ta-. 65

Mariona Vernet

As for Hitt. tii๞e/a- ‘to step’, the details of its reconstruction are also controversial. Since the beginning of Hittite studies it has been debated whether tii๞e/a-zi goes back to PIE. *dheh1- ‘to put’ or *steh2- ‘to stand’. Given that Morpurgo Davies (1987) explained that Luw. tŊ- was used in similar contexts to Hitt. tii๞e/a-zi, in my view the connection with PIE. *steh2- fits better. For Hitt. tii๞e/a-zi Kloekhorst reconstructs a present stem *(s)th2-i๞e/o-, but in my opinion it is better to consider Hitt. tii๞e/a-zi as an ‘Umbildung eines hi-Verbs *tŊi : tiyanzi’, as proposed by Oettinger (1992: 236). In this case, a -hi inflection for this verb could be reconstructed for PA.

3. Conclusions This article shows that the situation of the inherited -hi inflected *CóC-stems in Luwian is very similar to Hittite. As in Hittite, in Luwian these stems represent the counterpart of PIE. perfect *C1e-C1óC2- and are to be compared to the unreduplicated PIE. perfect *u๞oid- ‘to know’. This article has shown that in Luwian there are still some inherited verbal stems of this kind which have cognates in Hittite: in both cases they are -hi inflected, show o-ablaut, and are etymologically related: CLuw. lŊ, HLuw. la- (i), da- ‘to take’; CLuw. pai๞- ‘to give’, (HLuw. piya- ‘id’); HLuw. was- ‘to buy’; probably PLuw. *zahha- (cfr. HLuw. zahhanuwa ‘to attack’)௘7; maybe CLuw. paš- ‘to swallow’ (see pappaša- ‘id.’) and maybe CLuw. tŊ- ‘to stand’ and HLuw. ta- ‘id.’ The etymological connection between Hittite and Luwian -hi verbs cognates is relevant here because it has sometimes been debated whether Hittite and Luwian really had etymologically connected -hi inflected verbs. The results of this research indicate that this is true, at least in the case of the -hi inflected *CóC-stems, although the examples are few.

Language abbreviations Alb. Arm. Av. Anatol. CLuw. Germ. Goth. Gk. HLuw.

Albanian Armenian Avestan Anatolian Cuneiform Luwian Germanic Gothic Greek Hieroglyphic Luwian

Hitt. Lat. Lyc. Lyc. B Lyd. Luw. OAv. OCS OIr.

Hittite Latin Lycian Lycian B (or Mylian) Lydian Luwian Old Avestan Old Church Slavonic Old Irish

OLith. Old Lithuanian PA. Proto-Anatolian Pal. Palaic PIE. Proto-Indo-European PLuw. Proto-Luwian Skt. Sanskrit Toch. A Tocharian A Toch. B Tocharian B Ved. Vedic

B i b l i o g r a p h i c a l A b b re v i a t i o n s ACLT: Ilya Yakubovich (ed.). 2013–2016. Annotated Corpus of Luwian Texts (on-line dictionary of CLuwian and HLuwian). Available: http://web-corpora.net/LuwianCorpus/search/ [accessed 12.11.2016]. HED: see Puhvel, Jaan. 1984-. Hittite Etymological Dictionary. Berlin / New York / Amsterdam: Mouton. KBo: Keilschrifttexte aus Bogazkoy (KBo 1–60, 1916–2009). KUB: Keilschrifturkunden aus BoŜazköi (KUB 1–60, 1921–90). 7

In this case, as in the following example, I must reconstruct a PLuw. -hi stem which in Luwian is only indirectly documented (via a derivate verbal stem), but is well attested in Hittite as a -hi verb. 66

Hi-inflected verbal *CóC-stems in Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic Luwian

References Carruba, Onofrio. 1970. Das Palaische. Texte, Grammatik, Lexikon (StBoT 10). Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Carruba, Onofrio. 1977. Commentario alla trilingue licio-greco-aramaica di Xanthos. Studi Micenei ed Egeo-Anatolici 18: 273–310. Cowgill, Warren. 1979. Anatolian ‫ܔ‬i-conjugation and Indo-European perfect: Instalment II. In: E. Neu, W. Meid (eds.). Hethitisch und Indogermanisch. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität Innsbruck: 25–39. de Vaan, Michiel. 2008. Etymological Dictionary of Latin and other Italic Languages. Leiden and Boston: Brill. Eichner, Heiner. 1975. Die Vorgeschichte des hethitischen Verbalsystems. In: H. Rix (ed.). Flexion und Wortbildung. Akten der V. Fachtagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft. Wiesbaden: Reichert: 71–103. Friedrich, Johannes.-Annelies Kammenhuber. 19752. Hethitisches Wörterbuch. Heidelberg: Winter. Gusmani, Roberto. 1964. Lydisches Wörterbuch. Heidelberg: Carl Winter-Universitäts Verlag. Hawkins, John David. 2000. Corpus of Hieroglyphic Luwian Inscriptions. Volume 1: Inscriptions of the Iron Age. BerlinNew York: Walter de Gruyter. Jasanoff, Jay H. 2003. Hittite and the Indo-European verb. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kalinka, Ernest. 1901. Tituli Asiae Minoris, vol. I. Tituli Lyciae Lingua Lycia conscripti. Vienna: Hoelder-Pichler-Tempsky. Kloekhorst, Alwin. 2008. Etymological Dictionary of the Hittite inherited Lexicon. Leiden: Brill. Melchert, Craig. 1984. Studies in Hittite Historical Phonology. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Melchert, H. Craig. 1993. Cuneiform Luvian Lexicon. Chapel Hill, NC: Self-published. Melchert, H. Craig. 2003. Language. In: H. C. Melchert (ed.). The Luwians. Leiden: Brill: 170–210. Melchert, H. Craig. 2004. A Dictionary of the Lycian Language. Ann Arbor-New York: Beech Stave Press. Melchert, H. Craig. Forthcoming. Luwian. In: R. Hasselbach-Andee (ed.). Companion to Ancient Near Eastern Languages, 1–30 (available online: http://www.linguistics.ucla.edu/people/Melchert/melchertChapter14Luwian.pdf). Morpurgo-Davies, Anna. 1979. The Luwian Languages and the Hittite -‫ܔ‬i conjugation. In B. Brogyani (ed.). Studies in Diachronic, Synchronic and Typological Linguistics (Festschrift Szemerényi). Amsterdam: John Benjamins: 577–610. Morpurgo-Davies. 1980. The Personal Endings of the Hieroglyphic Luwian Verb. Historische Sprachforschung 94: 86–108. Morpurgo-Davies. 1982. Dentals, Rhotacism and Verbal Endings in the Luwian Languages. Historische Sprachforschung 96: 245–270. Morpurgo-Davies, Anna 1987. ‘To put’ and ‘to stand’ in the Luwian languages. In C. Watkins (ed.). Studies in Memory of Warren Cowgill. Berlin / New York: De Gruyter: 205–228. Neumann, Günter. 2007. Glossar des Lykischen. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Oettinger, Norbert. 1979. Die Stammbildung des hethitischen Verbums. Nürnberg: Hans Carl. Oettinger, Norbert. 1992. Die hethitischen Verbalstämme. In: O. Carruba (ed.). Per una grammatica ittita. Pavia: Luculano. Puhvel, Jaan. 1984-. Hittite Etymological Dictionary. Berlin / New York / Amsterdam: Mouton. Rix, Helmut. 20012. Lexicon der indogermanischen Verben. Wiesbaden: Reichert. Ševoroškin, Vitalij. 2002. Word Combinations in Milyan and Lycian Inscriptions. In: A. S. Kassian, A. V. Sidel’tsev (ed.). Memoriae A. A. Korolëv dicata (= Studia linguarum 3). Moscow: Languages of Slavonic Culture: 117–189. Tischler, J. 1983. Hethitisches etymologisches Glossar. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität Innsbruck. Vernet, Mariona. Forthcoming. “The Lycian ‫ܔ‬i-conjugation revisited’. In: Elisabeth Rieken in cooperation with Ulrich Geupel und Theresa Roth (eds.). Proceedings of the conference held during the 100 Jahre Entzifferung des Hethitischen Morphosyntaktische Kategorien in Sprachgeschichte und Forschung. Arbeitstagung der Indogermanischen Gesellschaft, Philipps-Universität Marburg (21–23 September 2015). Wiesbaden: Reichert. Yakubovich, Ilya (ed.). 2013–2016. Annotated Corpus of Luwian Texts (on-line dictionary of CLuwian and HLuwian). Available: http://web-corpora.net/LuwianCorpus/search/ [accessed 12.11.2016]. Yakubovich, Ilya. 2015. The Luwian Language. Oxford Handbooks Online (21 Oct. 2015). http://www.oxfordhandbooks.com/view/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199935345.001.0001/oxfordhb-9780199935345-e-18. Yoshida, Kazuhiko. 1993. Notes on the Prehistory of Preterit Verbal Endings in Anatolian. Historische Sprachforschung 106: 26–35. 67

Mariona Vernet

ʈʸ˛ˌ˙˗ʸ ɰˀ˛˗ˀ˞. ɴ༤ˁˆ˥༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˥˨ˣ˥˅˻ hi-˨˦˧̀ːˋˣ˘̀ ˣˁ *CóC ˅ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨ˣ˥ˢ ˘ ˘ˋ˧˥ˆ༤˘˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˢ ɳ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˢ, ˜ˁ˜ ˘ ˅ ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˥ˢ, ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˥˪ ˜˥˧ˣ̀ ˪˘˦ˁ *CóC ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ˨˥˄˥˙ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ ˦˧ˁ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦ˋ˧˱ˋ˜˪ˁ *C1e-C1óC2-. ɳ ˦˧ˁˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˥ˢ ˦˧ˁ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˘˙ ˦ˋ˧˱ˋ˜˪ ˣˋ ˊˋˢ˥ˣ˨˪˧˘˧˫ˋ˪ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ ˣ˘˜ˁ˜˘˲ ˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ ˧ˋˊ˫˦༤˘˴˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˨༤˥ˆˁ (˲˥˪̀ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧˻ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ˘ˢˋ˿˪˨̀); ˅ ˦˧˘ˣ˴˘˦ˋ ˥ˣ ˊˋˢ˥ˣ˨˪˧˘˧˫ˋ˪ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ o-ˁ˄༤ˁ˫˪. ʓ˪˧˫˜˪˫˧ˣ˥ ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˘ˋ hi-ˆ༤ˁˆ˥༤˻ ༤˫˵˸ˋ ˅˨ˋˆ˥ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁ˪˼ ˨ ˘˖˥༤˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˧ˁ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˘ˢ ˆ༤ˁˆ˥༤˥ˢ *u๞eid- «˖ˣˁ˪˼», ˜˥˪˥˧˻˙ ˣˋ ˄˻༤ ˧ˋˊ˫˦༤˘˴˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˢ, ˣ˥ ˦˧˘ˣ˘ˢˁ༤ ˥˜˥ˣ˵ˁˣ˘̀ ˦ˋ˧˱ˋ˜˪ˁ. ɳ ˪˥ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˅ ˲ˋ˪˪˨˜˥ˢ ˽˪ˁ ˨˘˪˫ˁ˴˘̀ ˪˹ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˘˖˫˵ˋˣˁ, ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹ˋˆ˥ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˣˁ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ ˊ˥ ˨˘˲ ˦˥˧ ˣˋ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˫ˋ˪. ʓ˪ˁ˪˼̀ ˨˪ˁ˅˘˪ ˴ˋ༤˼˿ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋ˪˼ ˊˁˣˣ˥ˋ ̀˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˅ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨ˣ˥ˢ ˘ ˘ˋ˧˥ˆ༤˘˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˢ. ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: hi-ˆ༤ˁˆ˥༤˻ ˅ ༤˫˅˘˙˨˜˥ˢ, ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜ˁ̀ ˆ༤ˁˆ˥༤˼ˣˁ̀ ˢ˥˧˱˥༤˥ˆ˘̀, ˁˣˁ˪˥༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ ˣˋ˧ˋˊ˫˦༤˘˴˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˦ˋ˧˱ˋ˜˪ˣ˻ˋ ˜˥˧ˣ˘.

68

Fernando O. de Carvalho Federal University of Amapá (UNIFAP), Amapá State, Brazil; [email protected]

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’: Etymology and Implications for Internal Classification* This paper presents an etymological investigation of the Terena noun for ‘mouth’, -pâho, which, according to current comparative Arawakan linguistics, lacks known cognates. I show that cognates of this Terena noun exist in Mojeño, a close relative of Terena within the Bolivia-Paraná subgroup of the Arawakan family. In Ignaciano and Trinitario, the best known modern varieties of Mojeño, the cognates of pâho are semantically-shifted nouns meaning ‘door’. I propose an account of the semantic and formal relations between these forms via an etymological source *-paho ‘mouth’ and a compound noun *paho-peti ‘door’ (lit. ‘mouth (of the) house’). This account relies on a more general pattern of noun formation in the Arawakan family, regular phonological correspondences and is consistent with modern views on the nature of diachronic metaphorical extensions in lexical semantic shift. The evidence presented and argumentation built to support this analysis adds Terena evidence to the correspondences supporting a vowel merger in the Ignaciano variety of Mojeño. Finally, I consider some implications for internal classification, advancing the hypothesis that Terena and Mojeño form a separate branch of the Arawakan family, the Achane branch, one that does not include Baure. Keywords: Etymology; Arawakan languages; Terena; Semantic change.

1. Introduction The Arawakan language family is routinely celebrated as the largest language family of the New World — both by its geographic spread and by the number of languages that belong in it (Kaufman 1990: 40; Aikhenvald 1999; Campbell 2012). In addition, linguists and other prehistorians attach significant importance to this language group as a potential source of privileged insight on the pre-history of South America (see for instance the collection of papers in Hill & Santos-Granero 2002 and Hornborg & Hill 2011). Nevertheless, our knowledge of the historical linguistics of the Arawakan language family remains arguably less advanced than is the case with other large groups of lowland South America, such as Cariban and Tupian (see e.g. Michael 2009; Campbell 2012). With this situation in mind, and seeking to complement more ambitious pioneering works such as Payne (1991), recent approaches to the historicalcomparative linguistics of the Arawakan family have proceeded in a bottom-up manner, reconstructing from small sets of closely related languages, with a finer understanding of the phonology and the morphology of the relevant languages yet, at the same time, keeping an eye open to broader issues, such as that of internal classification (Michael 2011; Danielsen 2011; Lawrence 2014; Jolkesky 2016; Carvalho 2015, 2016a,b,c; forthcoming). The present paper follows in the footsteps of this program. I will be concerned with providing a sensible etymological analysis of the form -pâho ‘mouth’ attested in Terena, a Southern Arawakan language of Brazil, within the broader background of an approach to the his* I am sincerely grateful to Andrey Nikulin and to Françoise Rose for enlightening comments and observations that helped improve this paper. The usual disclaimers apply. Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/2 (2017) • Pp. 69–86 • © The authors, 2017

Fernando O. de Carvalho

torical linguistics of this language and the specific low-level subgroup where it presumably belongs. First, I will discuss how the historical-comparative linguistics of the Arawakan languages has so far failed to provide a sensible account for this item. After tracing this form to its earliest attested sources, I argue that it has semantically shifted cognates in the modern varieties of Mojeño, a language closely related to Terena. Evidence from early 18th century data on Old Mojeño plays a vital role in filling the gaps that relate these forms via lexical semantic shifts. In accounting for these shifts I will not only provide an account that is consistent with recent work on the directionality of semantic change — and on how reliably identified directionality trends can help in semantic reconstruction — but I will also discuss evidence for other developments in the history of Terena phonology and morphology, thus illustrating the inherent feedback between particular etymologies and a more general understanding of language’s diachrony (Mailhammer 2014: 424–425). Data for this study comes from the author’s fieldwork on Terena (Cachoeirinha Reservation, Mato Grosso do Sul, Brazil), from published sources on the modern languages (Ekdahl & Butler 1969, 1979 on Terena; Ott & Ott 1983 on Mojeño Ignaciano; Gill 1957, 1970 on Mojeño Trinitario; Danielsen 2007 on Baure) and from a 18th century grammar and vocabulary of Old Mojeño (Marbán 1702). Additional sources on other languages discussed in the paper will be referred to accordingly. The paper is organized as follows: Section 2 offers a brief overview of the Bolivia-Paraná Arawakan languages, a subgroup of the Arawakan language family including Terena, Mojeño, Baure and other less well-described languages. Section 3 reviews the treatment of the form for ‘mouth’ in Terena in the existing historical-comparative literature and thus sets the issues to be tackled in the remainder of the paper. Section 4 constitutes the core of the present contribution. Finally, section 5 considers some implications for internal classification of the findings discussed here, advancing the hypothesis that Mojeño is the closest relative of Terena within the family and that both, perhaps with the inclusion of Paunaka as well, form a separate subgroup, the Achane branch.

2. The Bolivia-Paraná Arawakan Languages: Brief Overview A branch of the Arawakan language family composed of Terena (including under this label other geographically or chronologically-defined varieties such as Kinikinau and Guaná; see Carvalho 2016a), spoken in southwestern Brazil, the Mojeño varieties (such as Ignaciano and Trinitario) and Baure, all spoken in Bolivia, is usually identified in classifications of the Arawakan languages (see Matteson 1972: 186-192, who does not include Mojeño; Kaufman 1994; Payne 1991: 489; Aikhenvald 1999: 67; Walker & Ribeiro 2010: 3; Campbell 2012: 75). Other, less well-attested languages such as Paunaka and Paikoneka are also assigned to this subgroup by other researchers (Danielsen 2011; Jolkesky 2016). The label Bolivia-Paraná was proposed for this group by Payne (1991) and I will retain this use in the present paper. As is the case elsewhere in the Arawakan family, the evidence for recognizing a BoliviaParaná subgroup has been less than compelling, however. Areal-geographic factors have had a major influence in promoting the reality of this subgroup, as implied by its label (see specially Aikhenvald 1999). Strictly linguistic evidence has been presented by Payne (1991), but this amounts to figures for shared lexical retentions and loosely defined phonological outcomes, such as a ‘weakening’ of Proto-Arawakan (henceforth PA) dorsal stops (Payne 1991: 440), which, even if defined in more precise terms, are known to have occurred independently in many Arawakan subgroups. Other studies, both preceding (e.g. Matteson 1972) 70

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’

and following (e.g. Walker & Ribeiro 2010) Payne’s work have applied similar methods, relying on shared proportions of lexical cognates to recognize this as a coherent subgroup of the family. As to the internal organization of the Bolivia-Paraná subgroup, there seems to be a widespread, recent opinion — again, based on geography, shared lexical retentions or other assessments of ‘structural similarities’ — that Baure and Mojeño are closer to each other than any of these is to Terena (Walker & Ribeiro 2010: 3; Danielsen, Dunn & Muysken 2011: 185). This claim should be taken with caution, however, not only due to the different methodologies and datasets employed in these studies, but also because no investigation has so far established this by identifying shared innovations and because other authors refrain from proposing any internal structure to this branch (see e.g. Aikhenvald 1999: 67; Danielsen 2011). The latest and most detailed study of these languages, Jolkesky (2016), does not consider Terena data, taking it as a premise that Mojeño, Paunaka, Paikoneka and Baure are more closely related to each other than any of these is to Terena. This generalized but not consensual view is expressed in the arrangement below: (1) Prevalent Internal Classification of the Bolivia-Paraná Subgroup: Bolivia-Paraná Subgroup Terena Mamoré-Guaporé branch Baure-Paikoneka Baure Paikoneka Mojeño-Paunaka Paunaka Mojeño (Ignaciano, Trinitario) I will assume the structure above as a kind of null hypothesis enshrining some common ground reflecting a certain degree of agreement that has been reached among researchers, even if strong, compelling evidence for it (especially for the classification of Terena) is yet to appear in print. My own opinion is that the existence of a Bolivia-Paraná subgroup is very plausible and perhaps even obvious; yet, unless this impressionistic and intuitive assessment is moved from the level of a gut feeling to a detailed, methodologically sound understanding of the historical development of these languages, hardly any progress can be achieved on this specific issue and on Arawakan historical linguistics more generally. Moreover, unless a detailed understanding of the diachrony of these languages is offered, there is little hope that the more puzzling question of the internal classification of the Bolivia-Paraná languages can be properly addressed. I turn to this issue in section 5.

3. On Terena -pâho ‘mouth’: Treatments so far and statement of the problem Payne (1991: 413) presents three separate cognate sets for the meaning ‘mouth’, each ascribed to a different Proto-Arawakan (PA) etymon. Interestingly, however, not a single member of the Bolivia-Paraná subgroup features in these cognate sets. Since Payne’s (1991) study remains to this day the most extensive historical-comparative investigation of the Arawakan languages, it is perhaps surprising that this gap has not drawn any attention in the comparative literature so far. This has additional significance as the lack of a cognate in these languages — 71

Fernando O. de Carvalho

otherwise thought to constitute a distinct subgroup in itself — might indicate the existence of lexical or morphological innovations. Earlier, Matteson (1972: 186-192) proposed a reconstruction of ‘Proto-Shani’, the common ancestor of Terena, Kinikinau and Baure (she did not include any Mojeño data). In the case of her reconstructed etymon for ‘mouth’, Matteson (1972: 191) postulates a form *báaho based on Terena and Kinikinau reflexes alone. Setting aside the fact that Terena and Kinikinau are close dialectal variants of the same language, so that cognate matches involving only these two speech varieties could hardly justify reconstructing an etymon at the deeper level of her ProtoShani, there are many shortcomings in Matteson’s data, particularly with respect to Kinikinau. The differentiation between Kinikinau and Terena has been mistakenly overestimated as an artifact of poor morphophonological analysis: the word-initial voiced stop in *báaho, for instance, results from an incorrect analysis of Kinikinau as having phonemic voiced stops (see Carvalho 2016a for details on these and other points and Payne 1991: 368-371 for a general evaluation of Matteson’s 1972 study). Be as that may, the form *báaho reconstructed by Matteson does not appear in her Proto-Arawakanan cognate sets, thus underscoring the isolated status of the Terena noun -pâho. Jolkesky (2016: 13) notes the existence of non-cognate material for the meaning slot ‘mouth’ in a comparison of Mojeño and Baure varieties: the former has a root -hakawhile the latter has -nukiɍ/ɍ-noki. Nevertheless, based on these Baure forms and on partial cognates in Mojeño and in Paunaka compounds meaning ‘beard, mustache’, as in Mojeño Trinitario -hii-nuku (Gill 1970: 7),1 Jolkesky (2016: 19) reconstructs an etymon *-nukՓ ‘mouth’ for his Proto-MamoréGuaporé (PMGU), the postulated common ancestor of Mojeño, Baure, Paunaka and Paikoneka (in section 5 I note potential cognates of this etymon in other branches of the Arawakan family). In synthesis then, nothing certain can be said about the Terena noun -pâho ‘mouth’, which seems to remain historically unaccounted for and comparatively isolated within the family. First, it does not appear in any of the cognate sets on which Payne’s (1991) comparative study of the Arawakan family (and reconstruction of the Proto-Arawakan family) is based. Second, it is related only to the forms attested in Kinikinau by Matteson (1972) and by Walker & Ribeiro (2010), not a surprising or illuminating finding since Terena and Kinikinau are very close codialects. Finally, Terena -pâho ‘mouth’ bears no suggestive formal resemblance to the etymon reconstructed by Jolkesky (2016: 19), *-nukՓ ‘mouth’, to the common ancestor of the Mojeño, Baure, Paunaka and Paikoneka. All of this could suggest that Terena -pâho ‘mouth’, despite its status as a basic vocabulary item (see e.g. Tadmor et al. 2010: 239) could be a loanword, perhaps, from a non-Arawakan language. As I show in the next sections, however, this form has a plausible Arawakan etymology linking it, at least, to its closest relatives, the Mojeño varieties.

4. Terena pâho ‘mouth’ and its cognates The Terena noun -pâho [paୁ๛hվ] ‘mouth’, is attested in virtually the same form from the earliest available documentation on the language: (Castelnau 1845, apud Martius 1867); (Taunay 1868); (Schmidt 1903: 332). As stop consonant voicing is not distinctive in the language,2 documented forms with initial are either too phonetic or reveal other As Jolkesky (2016) does not discuss Terena, I note that the closest match to this form I could find in Terena is -inúku ‘forehead’, though the semantics in this case suggests that the similarity is merely accidental. 2 The Terena phonological segmental inventory is as follows, symbols having the standard IPA interpretations unless noted otherwise: p, t, k, s, ಝ, m, n, ੇ, w, j, r, h, a, e, i, o, u.The mid vowels e and oare most frequently re1

72

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’

inadequacies in the analysis. As discussed by Carvalho (2016a), some of the earliest records of Terena (Guaná) inalienable (dependent) nouns, such as body-part terms, actually present 1Psg possessive forms, a common form in elicitation, not the absolute or non-possessed forms implied by the accompanying glosses or translations.3 1Psg is realized in Terena by a floating nasal feature that induces stop consonant voicing, in addition to the formation of a nasal-oral contour at the left edge of the leftmost obstruent consonant. Thus, given ∅-pâho ‘his/her mouth’, with ∅ coding of 3P, one has mbâho ‘my mouth’ (see Eastlack 1968: 4). The circumflex diacritic used in written Terena indicates a falling pitch contour and a lengthened vowel. Finally, the form , recorded by Max Schmidt, includes the suffix -ti which indicates a generic or non-specific possessor (e.g. ∅-hêwe ‘his/her foot’, hewêti ‘somebody’s foot’; see e.g. Ekdahl & Butler 1979: 66 and next paragraph). I have used a dash to indicate that -pâho like other inalienable nouns is a root. Hence, most body-part terms, many kinship terms and a few nouns denoting man-made objects or parts of wholes (e.g. ‘root (of a tree)’), the semantic domains usually represented in the class of inalienable nouns, will always occur with some sort of morphological elaboration: in case they lack a prefix indicating the person-number features of a possessor (the prefix may be ∅-, as in the case of the Terena 3P),4 these items show up either with a suffix indicating their unpossessed status or in some other construction such as a nominal compound or incorporated within a verb. Suffixes signaling the unpossessed status of inalienable nouns are known as Absolute suffixes in the Arawakanist literature. In Terena the Absolute suffix has the form -ti, and is commonly glossed as expressing a generic, non-specific possessor. Thus: -pâho ‘mouth’ (a root, not a free-standing word), ∅-pâho ‘his/her mouth’, mbâho ‘my mouth’ but pahóti ‘someone’s mouth’. All other nouns, that is, alienable nouns such as pirítaw ‘knife’ or wáteke‘canoe’, ordinarily occur as self-standing free forms in the absence of an explicit possessor. If marked for possession, however, additional morphology in the form of suffixes indicates their ‘marked’, possessed status: ∅-piritáw-na ‘his/knife’, wãndéke-na ‘my canoe’. These suffixes are, in turn, called Genitive or Possessive suffixes in the Arawakanist tradition (see e.g. Payne 1990: 80–83; 1991: 378; Carvalho 2015). A comparison of the candidates for cognate status in the meaning slot ‘mouth’ for the Bolivia-Paraná Arawakan languages reveals an obvious (that is, semantically-matched) cognate of the Terena form -pâho in Old Mojeño (Marbán 1702: 160). Also attested in Old Mojeño is an apparently competing form, , which has a clear match in the form -haka ‘mouth’ attested in both modern Mojeño varieties, Ignaciano and Trinitario (see table 1). The latter is the Mojeño form presented in Jolkesky (2016: 13), no mention being made of Old Mojeño . The Old Mojeño forms contain the 1Psg possessive prefix and can alized as open Մ and ՝, respectively, though I will adhere to the customary practice of using e and o in writing forms of the language.Note also that w is frequently realized as [v] or [ß], though phonological patterns show it patterns like a sonorant, and that ੇ is a marginally contrastive segment only. 3 Glossing conventions used in this paper are as follows: REFL: Reflexive; CONT: Continuative; TH: Thematic consonant, ACT: Actual Mood; AUX: Auxiliary verb; 3P: third person; 2P: second person; 1Psg: first person singular; 1Ppl: first person plural. 4 Though the person-number markers indicating possession in nouns or a subject in verbs are arguably prefixes (see e.g. Danielsen 2011: 508), some comment is necessary due to the non-concatenative exponence of some of these markers (Eastlack 1968: 4). As noted above, 1Psg is realized by a ‘floating’ nasal feature that spreads from the left edge of a word until blocked by an obstruent consonant, which becomes voiced. Thus, éno ‘mother’, Ӽnõ¶my mother’ butówoku ‘house’õwõƖgu ‘my house’. The prefix j- indicates 2P in vowel-initial roots (cf. j-ówoku ‘your house’), but fronting of the leftmost vowel in the word marks 2P elsewhere: ∅-hánaԸi-ti ‘he/she is big, tall’, hénaԸi-ti ‘you are big, tall’. The status of these elements as prefixes is indicated by their left-aligned pattern of realization. 73

Fernando O. de Carvalho

thus be reduced to the roots and . See the contrast with ‘mouth of the river’, where occurs instead with the 3Psg non-human possessive (Marbán 1702: 12, 160; cf. Rose 2015: 244). Table 1. Forms for Mouth in the Bolivia-Paraná Arawakan Language Language Terena Old Mojeño Ignaciano

Form -pâho , -haka

Source Author’s field data Marbán 1702: 160 Ott & Ott 1983: 493

-haka

Gill 1970: 7

-nuku

Françoise Rose, p.c.

Baure

-noki

Danielsen 2007: 469

Paunaka

-nՓki

Danielsen & Terhart 2014: 253

Trinitario

Both the Baure and Paunaka forms, in turn, show no obvious formal correspondence to Terena -pâho and to Mojeño -haka. As mentioned before, Jolkesky (2016: 19) considers the Baure and Paunaka forms cognates of a bound root -nuku found only in Mojeño forms such as hii-nuku ‘mustache’, all traced back to a PMGU etymon *-nukՓ ‘mouth’. Recent data on the Trinitario variety shows, however, that -nuku does occur as a non-derived root in Mojeño, meaning either ‘mouth (of a person)’ or ‘neck of a bottle’ (Françoise Rose, personal communication). The comparative data in table 1 suggests that Old Mojeño had a cognate of Terena -pâho, but that no such form was retained in the modern Mojeño varieties. Additional comparative data in table 2 below shows, however, that the relevant comparative patterns are more interesting than a simple case of vocabulary obsolescence in Ignaciano and Trinitario. Table 2. Bolivia-Paraná forms for ‘door’ Language

Form

Source

Terena

paha-péti

Author’s field data

Mojeño Ignaciano

ta-paha

Ott & Ott 1983: 344

Mojeño Trinitario

ta-paho, -pahra

Gill 1970: 33

Old Mojeño

Marbán 1702: 317

Baure

haki-

Danielsen 2007: 41

Paunaka

nuinekՓ

Lena Terhart (p.c.)

The Terena form for ‘door’ is pahapéti a nominal compound meaning ‘mouth of the house’ (cf. péti ‘house’; see e.g. Ekdahl & Butler 1979: 182). The structure of this form is in agreement with the general pattern for endocentric nominal compounds expressing part-whole relations or material provenance in Terena, which are regularly head-initial, as in naƅwaka ‘beef’ (lit. meatcow; -naƅ ‘meat, flesh’), hêwetapi’i ‘hen’s foot’ (foot-hen; -hêwe ‘foot, leg’). The earliest, published attestation of this form is in Schmidt (1903: 566), who seems, however, to have overlooked the relation between this compound and the root for mouth (see Schmidt 1903: 593). In relation to the other forms in table 2, note that the formative ta- in the Mojeño forms for ‘door’ is the 3P non-human possessor prefix (Ott & Ott 1983: 36; Rose 2015) also described as an ‘impersonal possessive’ (Gill 1970: 6). While Old Mojeño ‘mouth’ appears in Marbán (1702) with the 1Psg possessive prefix , the noun for ‘door’ has the same root preceded by the 74

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’

3Psg non-human possessive (see Rose 2015: 244). This is the same marker used with the other use of denoting a non-human, metaphorically shifted sense, that of ‘river mouth’ noted above. In Trinitario one has a root -paho which, if possessed, shows the suffixation of the Possessive marker -ra and the effects of a recurrent process of vowel syncope (paho-ra > pah-ra; cf. Rose 2015: 253–254). The Paunaka form may be etymologizable to *nui-nՓkՓ, containing the root -nՓki ~ -nՓkՓ ‘mouth’, but this is not clear, and the remaining formative, nui-, is unattested elsewhere (Lena Terhart, personal communication). Two facts in need of discussion and explanation are revealed by the data in table 2. First, that Terena -pâho ‘mouth’ has an allomorph -paha appearing, at least, in the compound pahapéti ‘door’. Second, that Old Mojeño was polysemous, meaning either ‘door’ or ‘mouth’. Note that this differs crucially from Terena -pâho ‘mouth’ and pahapéti ‘door’, two separate lexemes, even if clearly etymologically related. Accounting for the polysemy in the Old Mojeño form will be of vital importance for the diachronic developments postulated here but, first, I will deal briefly with the formal variation internal to Terena, that is, the -pâho ~ -paha allomorphy. 4.1. Terena *paho > paha Of the two forms for ‘mouth’ attested in Terena, -pâho and -paha, the former is the older, inherited (conservative) one, while -paha is innovative. Though the precise nature of the developments behind the emergence of the allomorph -paha, as well as their chronology, will remain an object for future investigation, pending a more thorough understanding of Terena historical phonology and morphology, the postulation of a single pre-Terena allomorph *-paho ‘mouth’ seems to be plausible in view of the considerations bellow. Formally, it is possible to derive -paha from -pâho, though not the reverse, by invoking a contextual factor such as vowel harmony or assimilation. The restriction of this process to forms such as the compound pahapéti ‘door’ may be explained on the basis of prosodic properties such as ‘strength asymmetries’ within the Foot or the Prosodic Word. In compounds such as pahapéti, from pâho ‘mouth’ and péti ‘door’, the first element usually loses its stress to the rightmost one (Bendor-Samuel 1961: 35), a rough indication of prosodic weakness. According to the evidence in Ekdahl & Butler (1979: 185), incorporated5 -pahô does retain its round vowel o where it is stressed, as a comparison of (2a) and (2b) clearly shows (the syllable bearing main stress is indicated in bold):6 (2) Evidence for the role of stress placement in conditioning harmony (a) ∅ -tímaru -paha -ಝ -o -wo 3P -lick

-mouth -TH -ACT -REFL

‘He/she licked his own mouth’ Certain verbs in Terena, such as kipó- ‘to wash’, allow the incorporation of objects. Thus, given a root such as -nône ‘face’, one has kipónonewoti ‘he/she washes his/her own face’. An alternative description, which seems to be favored in the literature, postulates the existence of a finite set of bound forms, called either ‘qualifiers’ (Ekdahl & Butler 1979: 185) or ‘verbal classifiers’ (Passer 2016) that can appear within the verbal word and may bear only an etymological relation to the independent noun roots. 6 As in other Arawakan languages, the morphemes glossed ‘thematic’ in Terena are affixes with little semantic content but which function as a kind of ‘stem-closure’ formative (Wise 1990: 90). In Terena these thematic suffixes are either -ಝRU-k So-called athematic verb stems lack any thematic ending. Structures involving verbs and incorporated nouns function as stems which are either thematic or athematic, just like underived/simplex verb stems, hence the difference between the athematic stem in (2b) and the ಝ-thematic stem in (2a). 5

75

Fernando O. de Carvalho

(b) ∅ -paru -pahó 3P -open -mouth

kójee AUX

‘he/she is agape’ (lit. ‘he/she is with the mouth open’) Moreover, patterns that could be described as instances of a ~ o ablaut, often though not always associated with vowel harmony, are recurrent throughout the nominal and verbal morphology of Terena. In all cases, the overarching generalization is that o is basic and forms with D are derived. As noted in section 4, alienable nouns in Terena, as in other Arawakan languages, differ from inalienable nouns in bearing some additional morphological elaboration in possessive constructions, usually in the form of reflexes of one of the Possessive or Genitive suffixes reconstructed for the PA language. A subclass of these alienable nouns shows, when possessed, a change of every o to a(see Ekdahl & Butler 1979: 72, 182; a dash indicates a possessed form): (3) Change of o to a in Terena alienable nouns sopôro -sápara ‘maize’ wôso -wása ‘line, thread’ tôroro -tárara ‘gourd’ kohôಝu -kaháಝa ‘oven’ wojôre -wájara ‘yam’ As the Possessive affixes in Arawakan languages are suffixal in nature, it is probable that the derivation of the possessed forms in (3) show the effects of vowel harmony targeting o. Elsewhere, change of o to a in what looks like a vowel harmony process is attested in Terena verbal morphology, where suffixation of the Irrealis (or Potential Mood) suffix -a triggers a change of every Rin the verb stem to a (Ekdahl & Grimes 1964: 263; Ekdahl & Butler 1979: 46–47). Whether the correct account of the emergence of the allomorph -paha will rely for the most part on morphological or prosodic considerations is unclear for now. However, the phonological and morphological patterns addressed above suggest that -pâho is the most conservative allomorph, -paha being derived by a recurrent process attested elsewhere in the language but conditioned by still unknown conditions in this specific case. This is enough for our present purposes. 4.2. Reconstruction of two etyma *paho ‘mouth’ and *paho-peti ‘door’: form and meaning Based on the evidence displayed in tables 1 and 2, plus additional assumptions and facts that will be spelled out in detail below, I propose that a form essentially identical to *-paho can be reconstructed to an earlier, common stage of development shared by Terena and Mojeño, for the meaning ‘mouth’ (see section 5 for discussion of what this common stage amounts to vis-à-vis the classification in (1)).7 A compound *-paho-peti ‘door’ was also derived at this stage (see Ignaciano and Trinitario peti ‘house’; Ott & Ott 1983: 300; Gill 1970: 34). It is plausible that after the Mojeño varieties innovated a separate lexeme to express the meaning ‘mouth’, -haka, also attested in Old Mojeño as a competing form along with a reflex of *-paho, it was no longer I say ‘essentially identical’ because the falling pitch contour and vowel length characteristic of Terena -pâho ‘mouth’, and of many other nouns and verbs in this language, has no accepted diachronic explanation at the moment. As these are clearly innovations of the language, I will deal only with the segmental content of the form, the one which is formally comparable to the cognates found in Mojeño. 7

76

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’

necessary to employ the modifier peti to express the derived (or ‘target’) meaning ‘door’, hence the restricted meaning of paho as ‘door’ in the modern Mojeño varieties (paha in Ignaciano). As very few linguists and readers can be assumed to be familiar with the languages under discussion, and because there is little systematic historical investigation of the relations between Terena and Mojeño, it is perhaps fitting to present evidence that the reconstruction of *-paho and *paho-peti is supported by regular segmental correspondences, even if most of these turn out to be trivial identity correspondences (OM = Old Mojeño): (4) Regular segmental correspondences supporting *-paho and *paho-peti. (a) *p > Ter. p : Ign. p : Trin. p : OM p FINGERNAIL Ter. -hîpo : Ign. -hipaੇa : Trin. -hipੇo : OM ; BONE Ter. -ôpe : Ign. Ըiape : Trin. ópe-ra : OM ; DUCK Ter. , Trin. pohi : OM ; TO WASH Ter. -kipo- : Ign -sipaka : Trin -sipko : OM ; ROOT Ter. pôe-hewe : Ign. ta-pare : Trin. -pore : OM . (b) *a > Ter. a : Ign. a : Trin. a : OM a HUSBAND Ter. -îma : Ign. -ima : Trin. -ima : OM ; GRANDSON Ter. -ámori : Ign. -ámari : Trin. -amri : OM ; NAME Ter. -îha : Ign. -íhare : Trin. -íhare : OM ; TO HEAR Ter. -kâmo : Ign. -sama : Trin. -samo : OM ; PERSON Ter. ಝâne : Ign aಟane : Trin. Ըಟane : OM . (c) *h > Ter. h : Ign. h : Trin. h : OM h NAME Ter. -îha : Ign. -íhare : Trin. -íhare : OM ; FINGERNAIL Ter. -hîpo : Ign. -hipaੇa : Trin. -hipੇo : OM ; TOUCAN Ter. honôԸe : Ign. hanare : Trin. hnore ; TAIL Ter. -îhi : Ign tá-ihi-ki : Trin. -ihgi : OM ; MOON Ter. kohêԸe : Ign. kahe : Trin. kóhe-ra : OM . (d) *o > Ter. o : Ign a : Trin. o : OM o BONE Ter. -ôpe : Ign. Ըiape : Trin. ópe-ra : OM ; HOUSE (POSS.) Ter. -pêno : Ign. -pena : Trin. -peno : OM ; BROTHER (ELDER) Ter. -éಝowi : Ign. -éಟawi : Trin. -éಟovi : OM ; MOON Ter. kohêԸe : Ign. kahe : Trin. kóhe-ra : OM ; TOUCAN Ter. honôԸe : Ign. hanare : Trin. hnore ; TO HEAR Ter. -kâmo : Ign. sama : Trin. -samo : OM ; EARTH, MUD Ter. móte : Ign. mate-hi : Trin. mote-hi : OM ; TO STEAL Ter. -oméಝo : Ign -ámeಟa : Trin. -ómeಟo ; ROOT Ter. pôe-hewe : Ign. ta-pare : Trin. -pore : OM . (e) *e > Ter. e : Ign. e : Trin. e : OM e Breast Ter. -ಝêne : Ign -ಟene : Trin -ಟene : OM ; BONE Ter. -ôpe : Ign. Ըiape : Trin. ópe-ra : OM ; BROTHER (ELDER) Ter. -éಝowi : Ign. -éಟawi : Trin. -éಟovi : OM ; TOUCAN Ter. honôԸe : Ign. hanare : Trin. hnore ; MOON Ter. kohêԸe : Ign. kahe : Trin. kóhe-ra : OM ; MOTHER-IN-LAW Ter. -imóse : Ign. -ímase : Trin. -imse : OM ; TO STEAL Ter. -oméಝo : Ign -ámeಟa : Trin. -ómeಟo ; ROOT Ter. pôehewe : Ign. ta-pare : Trin. -pore : OM . (f) *t > Ter. t : Ign. t : Trin. t : OM t HEAD Ter. -tûti : Ign. -ಟuti : Trin. -ಟuti : OM ; BLOOD Ter. iti : Ign. iti : Trin. iti : OM ; TERMITE Ter. motôu : Ign. mata-ru : Trin. mto-ru : OM 8; BROTHER (YOUNGER) Ter. -âti, Trin. -ati, OM ; NIGHT Ter. jóti : Ign. jati : Trin. joti : OM ; BAT Ter.9 witete : Ign. wite : Trin. vite : OM . The gloss in Marbán (1702: 254) is ‘hormigas, que comen la yuca recien plantada’. Reduplication is a frequent property of animal names in Terena, as in wáhaha ‘spider’, wétekeke ‘cayman’, ಝiriಝiri ‘hummingbird’ and howôwo ‘frog’. 8 9

77

Fernando O. de Carvalho

(g) *i > Ter. i : Ign. i : Trin. i : OM i TAIL Ter. -îhi : Ign tá-ihi-ki : Trin. -ihgi : OM ; HEAD Ter. -tûti : Ign. -ಟuti : Trin. -ಟuti : OM ; BLOOD Ter. iti : Ign. iti : Trin. iti : OM ; BROTHER (YOUNGER) Ter. -âti, Trin. -ati, OM ; NAME Ter. -îha : Ign. -íhare : Trin. -íhare : OM ; FINGERNAIL Ter. -hîpo : Ign. -hipaੇa : Trin. -hipੇo : OM ; TO WASH Ter. -kipo- : Ign -sipaka : Trin -sipko : OM ; JAGUAR Ter. sîni : Ign. iಟini : Trin. Ըಟini : OM ; GRANDSON Ter. -ámori : Ign. -ámari : Trin. -amri : OM ; BROTHER (ELDER) Ter. -éಝowi : Ign. -éಟawi : Trin. -éಟovi : OM ; NIGHT Ter. jóti : Ign. jati : Trin. joti : OM . Though the reflex of *-paho was lost in modern Mojeño varieties as the expression of the meaning ‘mouth’, it was retained in the form for ‘door’ as a (slightly) obscure cognate, whose existence often points to the occurrence of semantic or functional shifts. Correspondence (4d) above, directly relevant for the etymology Terena -pâho, Old Mojeño , Trinitario -paho, Ignaciano -paha, requires further discussion. Given the lack of a phoneme o in Ignaciano (Ott & Ott 1959: 7–8; 1983: 5–7), this correspondence suggests that a merger *o, *a > a took place in this Mojeño variety. The operation of this merger was suggested by Rose (2015: 245, fn.3) and is explicitly advanced in Jolkesky’s (2016: 17) comparative work. Below I subject the relevant correspondence sets to scrutiny, bringing in the data from Terena which so far has not been included in the discussion. In tables 3 and 4 I show cognate sets for two correspondences, one matching Terena o to Ignaciano a and Trinitario o, and the other having a in all three languages (corresponding vowels appear in bold). Table 3. Correspondence set Ter o : Ign a : Trin o Terena

Ignaciano

Trinitario

Night

jóti

jati

joti

Rain, cloud

ûko

uka

uko

Earth, mud

móte

mate

mote

Grandmother

-ôse

-atse

-otse

Wife Shoulder, arm Tooth

jêno

jena

jeno

-pôwo

-pawa

-powo

-ôe

-aԸe

-oԸe

Table 4. Correspondence set Ter a : Ign a: Trin a Terena

Ignaciano

Trinitario

Sky

wanúke

anu-ma

anu-mo

Stone, stony floor

marîpa

mari

mari

Sun

kátಝe

satಝe

satಝe

Person

ಝâne

atಝane

Ըtಝane

Son-in-law

sîੇa

tಝina

tಝina

Name

-îha

-iha

-iha

-kâmo

-sama

-samo

To hear

78

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’

The distribution of the two correspondences — Ter o : Ign a : Trin o and Ter a : Ign a : Trin a — does not suggest any contextual factor that could point to a split in Terena and in Trinitario. Since the latter identity correspondence is non-controversially accounted by reconstructing *a, a sensible assumption is to assign the former, non-identity correspondence to *o, implying a merger of the two phonemes in Ignaciano. Some complexities involving these correspondences should be noted. On the one hand, Old Mojeño data is equivocal, as it patterns with Trinitario in showing o matching Ignaciano a in most cases (see (4d)), but in many instances a is found instead in the Old Mojeño cognates of forms showing o in Trinitario and a in Ignaciano (e.g. OM ‘white’, Trin. -hopu, Ign. -hapu). My own intuition in this respect is that the Old Mojeño documents of Marbán are dialectally heterogeneous, not an implausible thesis in view of the multi-ethnic environment of the Christian Missions in 17th and early 18th century Llanos de Mojos. Sorting this problem out will demand a detailed investigation of Mojeño phonological diversification, a task beyond the immediate concerns of this paper. On the other hand, there are additional issues arising from attempts at establishing correspondences with languages elsewhere in Arawakan family and with the PA forms reconstructed by Payne (1991). Some of these issues were identified by Payne (1991: 472) himself. My own position, sketched in section 1 is that after Payne’s (1991) ambitious attempt at dealing with 24 distinct Arawakan languages in a single stroke, the time has come for comparative investigation of this family to proceed in a bottom-up manner, reconstructing from less inclusive intermediate subgroups. The correspondences amassed above, with the inclusion of data from Terena (arguably the closest relative of Mojeño within the family; see section 5 for discussion) robustly support the inference of a merger *o, *a > a in Ignaciano, a conclusion which, in my view, was already justified by comparing the known Mojeño varieties, notwithstanding the ambiguous testimony of Old Mojeño. I agree with one of the reviewers of this paper that the issue is not definitely closed, though I would add that bringing Terena data to the discussion not only tilted the balance in favor of the hypothesized merger of *a and *o in Ignaciano, but helped constitute a so far unacknowledged set of comparative patterns that must be successfully addressed by any competing explanation. Before turning to questions of meaning, one should note that the postulation of a compound *paho-peti ‘door’ (lit. ‘mouth (of the) house’) is consistent not only with the structure of endocentric, part-whole compounds in Terena, but also matches the structure of similar compounds in Mojeño. Compounds with modification structures, often involving two inalienable (hence, bound) lexemes follow the same order in this language. For the Ignaciano variety, for instance, Olza Zubiri et al. (2004: 219) note that for a root such as -híja ‘hair’ it is possible to derive -hijatupa ‘chest hair’ (cf. -tupa ‘chest’), hijasumu ‘mustache’ (cf. -sumu ‘upper lip’), -hijamama ‘beard’ (cf. -mama ‘jaw, chin’), -hijaԸa ‘body hair’ (cf. -Ըa classifier for the body of humans or large animals).10 Reconstruction of the meaning ‘mouth’ for *-paho as opposed to the meaning ‘door’ attested in the modern Mojeño varieties, seems plausible on the grounds that (1) both Terena and Old Mojeño agree in this respect and (2) ‘mouth’ seems to be a more basic or salient meanThe following comments are in order: I assume here a very simple notion of headedness for compounds, one based on meaning. As paho-peti ‘door’ is a ‘kind of opening’, -paho is taken to be the head of the construction. The same reasoning applies to Mojeño forms such as ‘mustache’ or ‘beard’, as all are distinct kinds of ‘hair’. Note also that the status of Mojeño -hijaԸa ‘body hair’ as a compound is debatable; one could treat classifiers synchronically along with more grammatical or functional markers and claim that hijaԸa is a suffixed noun. This is hardly problematic, however, as such bound classifiers are plausibly related, at least diachronically, to independent nominal lexemes. 10

79

Fernando O. de Carvalho

ing than ‘door’ and, accordingly, metaphorical extensions relating these meanings are expected to operate in the direction ‘mouth’ > ‘door’, rather than in the reverse direction (with ‘mouth’ as the base and ‘door’ as the target). Similar semantic relations, such as ‘mouth’ > ‘estuary, mouth of river’ show a similar pattern where ‘mouth’ is the basic member of the relation (see Urban 2011: 12). In addition, the basic character of ‘mouth’ in relation to ‘door’ is reflected in the overt marking (in the sense of Urban 2011: 6) attested in Terena, where a nominal compound whose head is paha (< paho) is modified by the noun peti to express the meaning ‘door’ (literally “mouth of the house”), a pattern also attested elsewhere in the Arawak family (I return to this below). Going beyond the mere classification of the semantic change from ‘mouth’ to ‘door’ as a metaphorical extension, standard assumptions make it likely that an intermediate stage of polysemy was involved in this shift (see e.g. Job 1982; Wilkins 1996; Urban 2011). On the model of Wilkins’ (1996: 269) graphic presentation of what he calls the ‘polysemous’ view of semantic change, the proposed relation between the Terena and Mojeño reflexes of the etymon *-paho can be depicted as follows: (5) Stages: Form: Meaning:

(I) *-paho ‘mouth’

(II) -paho ‘mouth’ & ‘door’

(III) -paho ‘door’

Moment (I) has a single form for ‘mouth’, even though, in a compound, it can be modified by the noun *peti to express the notion ‘door’. This situation is what is attested for Terena, where both -pâho ‘mouth’ and pahapéti ‘door’ co-exist. Stage (II) is characterized by the existence of polysemy, that is, the two related meanings ‘mouth’ and ‘door’ are associated with the sign -paho. This is the pattern attested in Old Mojeño: as seen in section 4, paho can mean either ‘mouth’ or ‘door’, though the morphosyntactic context establishes one reading over the other. The Old Mojeño pattern provides the core link in a change relating ‘mouth’ and ‘door’ as it shows the existence of synchronic polysemy in a language that arguably represents an early, documented stage of languages that now have -paho, the form subject to change, only in the target meaning, in this case, ‘door’ (see Wilkins 1996: 269-270). Finally, stage (III) is that attested in the modern Mojeño varieties Ignaciano and Trinitario. The form -paho (-paha in the Ignaciano variety) is associated only with the meaning ‘door’, the meaning ‘mouth’ being now associated with a different lexeme -haka. A reviewer suggests an alternative semantic reconstruction according to which a single polysemous form *-paho ‘mouth/door’ is posited. While Terena would have resolved the inherent ambiguity of the form by means of a compound paho-peti ‘door’, in Mojeño the meaning ‘mouth’ was taken over by the innovative form -haka, -paho being retained only for the meaning ‘door’. This scenario would be preferable for its greater simplicity, as it avoids the postulation of the compound *paho-peti for any stage of the development of Mojeño, where this compound is, differently from Terena, unattested. Though I find the reviewer’s zeal against postulating this unattested compound structure for Mojeño history highly commendable, I will nevertheless stick to the view sketched above for two reasons: First, the polysemy associated with the Old Mojeño reflex of *-paho is still something in need of an explanation and, following Urban (2011: 24-29), it is plausible to think that the metaphorical extension behind the use of a form for ‘mouth’ as also meaning ‘door’ was formally mediated, in this case, by the compound *paho-peti. That is, following Evans (2010) and Urban (2011) I take polysemy to provide a snapshot of semantic change in course, one that is mediated by the kind of formal structure such as nominal compounds. 80

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’

Second, though it is true that *paho-peti ‘door’ is not attested in Mojeño, external evidence in the form of recurrent compounds for ‘door’ derived from ‘house’ and ‘mouth’ in other languagesɏ/ branches of the family make the postulation of *paho-petinot entirely far-fetched. Examples include Yucuna -numa ‘mouth’, numana ‘door’ (Schauer et al. 2005: 231), Resígaro póԸkónoomú ‘door’, (Allin 1979: 442; Payne 1991: 408),11 Bahuana -numada (Ramirez 1992: 121), Wapixana panii-nom ‘door’ (WLP 2000: 115), in these cases all having reflexes of a Proto-Arawakan root for ‘mouth’, reconstructed as *-numa by Payne (1991: 413) (see also Ramirez 2001: 643). Moreover, the use of such compound expressions is independent of which Proto-Arawakan etymon for ‘mouth’ happens to be preserved in a language — remembering that Payne (1991) reconstructed three etyma for the meaning ‘mouth’ at the PA level. Languages like Paresi, which show reflexes of a different form, Payne’s (1991: 413) PA etymon *khanakՓ ‘mouth’, employ the same mechanism, with cognates of pan-Arawakan roots for ‘house’, as in hati-kanatse ‘house-mouth’, ‘door’ (see Brandão 2014: 248; Paresi hati ‘house’ is a cognate of Terena péti, *p> h being a regular unconditioned development in Paresi).12 It is therefore plausible to think that overt marking for the less basic meaning, in this case, ‘door’, was an intermediate stage in bringing about the polysemy seen in Mojeño (see Urban 2011: 25–29 for more general considerations). In this section I have offered reasons to support the hypothesis that Terena -pâho ‘mouth’ has cognates in semantically-shifted modern Mojeño (Ignaciano and Trinitario) nouns for ‘door’, all being reflexes of earlier *-paho ‘mouth’. I have argued that this lexical semantic shift was formally mediated by a compound structure, *paho-peti, expressing the meaning ‘door’, a pattern found throughout the Arawak language family. This is in agreement with the more general model of Urban (2011), relating overt marking with preferred directionality trends (as in ‘mouth’ > ‘door’) in diachronic semantics. Properties of the intermediate stages, including the existence of polysemy, are retained in the attested material on Old Mojeño, while Terena preserves the reconstructed overt-marking strategy for deriving the meaning ‘door’ as a compound involving the root for ‘mouth’ as the head element. 5. On the internal classification of Terena: The Achane branch hypothesis In (1) I presented a working hypothesis on the internal classification of the Bolivia-Paraná languages, one that places Mojeño and Baure (along with other, less well-known languages such as Paunaka and Paikoneka) in one branch (the ‘Bolivia’ subgroup, presumably) and Terena as an independent, coordinate branch. As noted in section 2, this classification probably owes a lot to geographic factors and to non-conclusive assessments of ‘relative linguistic proximity’ (Walker & Ribeiro 2010: 3; Danielsen, Dunn & Muysken 2011: 185) — such as shared lexical retentions and structural similarities — that are consistent with but not indicative of subgroups. This classification has seemingly attained the status of orthodoxy, to the point that the best recent work on the historical-comparative linguistics of the Bolivia branch of the Bolivia-Paraná subgroup (Jolkesky 2016; labelled ‘Mamoré-Guaporé’) assumes the more distant position of Terena as a premise not worth discussing. 11 Resígaro -noomú ‘mouth’ is a straightforward cognate of the other cited forms for ‘mouth’. Resígaro has a single back rounded vowel, o, corresponding regularly to u in the other Northeastern languages such as Yucuna. Word-finally, *a > u in Resígaro (Payne 1991: 473), where stands for unrounded ՞. 12 Though the use of ‘mouth’ as a base to express the target meaning ‘door’ is widespread among Arawakan languages, it is not a self-evident fact that it can be reconstructed at the Proto-Arawakan level. Some daughter languages, Wayuunaiki and Baniva de Maroa being two examples, use the root for ‘eye’ instead: in Wayuunaiki, given -oԸu ‘eye’ and piiಟi ‘house’, one has piiಟoԸu ‘door’ (see Captain & Captain 2005: 36). In Baniva de Maroa, paniೞipuli ‘door’ is a compound of panîೞi ‘house’ and -puli ‘eye’ (Mosonyi 2000: 504).

81

Fernando O. de Carvalho

In the preceding sections of this paper I have relied heavily on Mojeño data to elucidate the etymology of a Terena ‘basic vocabulary’ noun, while Baure, the other (relatively) welldescribed member of the Bolivia-Paraná subgroup has contributed nothing. I was unable to find in this language any cognate of the Terena and Mojeño forms for ‘mouth’ or ‘door’ studied here, and this seems to agree with the comparative vocabulary amassed by Jolkesky (2016) in his study of the Bolivian languages. I advance here the hypothesis (see (6) below) that Terena and Mojeño are more closely related to each other than any of these is to Baure, as an alternative to the scheme in (1). (6) Achane branch and the internal classification of Bolivia-Parana Arawakan Bolivia-Paraná subgroup Baure Paikoneka Achane branch Terena Mojeño Paunaka To the best of my knowledge, this is the first time an internal classification of the BoliviaParana languages in which a branch composed of Terena, Mojeño and Paunaka, but excluding Baure and Paikoneka, is proposed (I will, for the moment, rely on Jolkesky 2016 for the assumption of a rather close relation between Baure and Paikoneka). The forms *-paho ‘mouth’ and *paho-peti ‘door’ can be taken as reconstructions for the common ancestor of this branch, or Proto-Achane (after the Old Mojeño noun for ‘person’). Moreover, the fact that Terena -pâho and its previously undetected cognates in Mojeño have not been included in any compilation of Arawakan cognates (see section 3) is at least suggestive of its status as an innovation. Note that, in this respect, the etymon *-paho differs from forms such as Baure -noki and Mojeño -nuku, given that the latter two, on the contrary, fit clearly within Payne’s (1991: 413) ‘Mouth3’ etymology, having cognates in Wayuunaiki -aanՓkՓ and Waurá -kanatՓ, both meaning ‘mouth’ as well, and occurring in languages far apart from each other within the family. Therefore, an etymon close to Jolkesky’s (2016) *-nukՓ ‘mouth’ can be plausibly assumed for Proto-BoliviaParaná, while *-paho‘mouth’ would constitute a shared innovation of the Achane languages. The best candidates I am aware of for the status of cognates of *-paho ‘mouth’ outside of the Bolivia-Paraná subgroup are the forms attested in the languages of the Campa branch, such as Nanti and Matsigenka -bagante and Ashéninka -paante (see Michael 2011 and Heitzman 1973: 37). However, though Michael (2011) has successfully reconstructed the segmental phonology of the Proto-Campa language he offers no reconstructed etyma, there being no published reconstruction of the lexicon of Proto-Campa that supersedes the deeply flawed reconstruction of Matteson (1972). The present author is currently working on a lexical and morphological reconstruction of Proto-Campa and, if it turns out that the Proto-Campa etymon for ‘mouth’ is indeed a cognate of Proto-Achane *-paho, this would invalidate its status as a Proto-Achane innovation. Nevertheless, interesting additional evidence from the lexical and morphological domains furnish strong candidates for the status of shared innovations pointing to a stage of development common to Terena and Mojeño but not to Baure. The Baure root -poԸe ‘head’ (Danielsen 2007: 120) is used both as a syntactically independent noun (with appropriate morphology) or incorporated into a verb stem (Danielsen 2007: 126). Baure -poԸe is plausibly a cognate of Mojeño Ignaciano -puԸi, a classifier indicating round or spherical objects (Olza Zubiri et al. 2004: 286–288) and of Terena -puԸi, a classifier for ‘head-like’ objects (Ekdahl & Butler 1979: 82

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’

167, 185). Moreover, this set probably reflects a much older etymon, as shown by apparent cognate forms attested in widely separate languages of the family, such as Baniva de Maroa -bu ‘head’ (Mosonyi 2000: 511), Yucuna -pula ‘forehead’ (Schauer & Schauer 2005: 205) and Garífuna ábu-lugu ‘head’ (Sabio & Ordoñez 2006: 7). Terena and Mojeño agree, however, in employing their cognates of Baure -poԸe only as incorporated or bound classifiers; Terena -tûti and Mojeño -ಟuti are used instead for ‘head’ when this is expressed as a syntactically independent expression. Terena -tûti and Mojeño -ಟuti are, like Proto-Achane *-paho, reasonably good candidates for being innovations. Payne (1991: 405) included -tûti and -ಟuti in his cognate set for PA ‘forehead’ though this is, for diverse reasons, a questionable etymology. Note, first, that the final syllables of both forms are arbitrarily excised from the comparison; there are, however, no clear grounds for analyzing these as -tu-ti and -ಟu-ti, respectively, at any level. Second, Payne proposes that Ashéninka and Matsigenka reflexes of Proto-Campa *gi-to ‘head’ (Matteson 1972: 213) present, in the final syllable -to, a cognate of the -tu-/-ಟu- formative he identifies in the Terena and Mojeño forms. Recent and more extensive documentation of Ashéninka varieties reveals, however, that Payne’s (1991: 405) analysis of -to in *gi-to as a classifier meaning ‘head-shaped, round’ is incorrect; -to is, indeed, a classifier, but its meaning is ‘hollow, long, rigid’ (see Mihas 2015: 414), where the meaning ‘rigid’ is probably the one relevant for ‘head’ (see that the remaining morpheme *-gi- is a straightforward reflex of the PA etymon *kiwՓ ‘head’ reconstructed by Payne 1991: 407). Certain specific morphological patterns attested in both Terena and Mojeño, but not in Baure, also imply a rather close structural similarity between the putative members of the Achane branch, and preliminary inspection of comparative data suggest that these could be shared innovations. A 1Ppl verbal suffix is usually reconstructed as *-wa or *-w(a) at the PA level or at another intermediate level (see Aikhenvald 1999: 88; Danielsen 2011: 514–515, the latter for ‘Proto-Southern-Arawakan’). In Mojeño, this suffix has not only a final i vowel that seems characteristic of some southern Arawakan languages (see Danielsen 2011: 215) but differs as well in having a -VCV structure, appearing as -avi (Rose 2015: 244). Interestingly, this initial vowel of the Mojeño 1Ppl suffix, unattested anywhere else in the family, furnishes an explanation for a morphophonological quirk of Terena: in this language, the 1Ppl has the form -wi but it is unique among all person-marking suffixes in the language in that it triggers the lengthening of a preceding vowel (see Eastlack 1968: 5; Ekdahl & Butler 1979: 35). Thus, contrasting with peréಝa-nu úne ‘(you) give me water!’, with the 1Psg object suffix -nu, one has peréಝaa-wi úne ‘(you) give us water!’, with the 1Ppl object suffix -wi triggering lengthening of the final vowel of the verb stem (data from Ekdahl & Butler 1979: 33). This lengthening effect on a preceding vowel can be easily explained as the result of sandhi processes (compensatory lengthening) involving absorption of the vowel present in the Mojeño cognate suffix, a suffixinitial vowel not reconstructed for the PA language. There is, I submit, enough reasons to consider the existence of a branch I label Achane, including Terena and Mojeño but excluding Baure, as a credible alternative to the geographically-based scheme in (1). At this point, however, the existence of this Achane branch is no more than a hypothesis worth investigating; it goes without saying that further investigation of potential shared innovations in lexicon, morphology and phonology is necessary before any definite conclusions can be attained. 6. Conclusion and final remarks This paper demonstrated, with material from a language that is highly understudied from a diachronic standpoint, how etymological analysis, if properly conceived and conducted, can 83

Fernando O. de Carvalho

considerably increase our understanding of the historical development of a language and its relatives. I have shown here that Terena -pâho ‘mouth ‘has cognates in the different speech varieties forming the Mojeño language. Accounting for this etymology calls, however, for an explicit hypothesis relating -pâho ‘mouth’ to forms in Ignaciano and Trinitario whose meaning is ‘door’, thus implying the action of a lexical semantic shift. Evidence from Old Mojeño was crucial in that it shows a stage in which a reflex of *-paho is associated with synchronic polysemy, which is predicted to exist given our general understanding of how semantic change proceeds (see Wilkins 1996: 269–270; Urban 2011). The whole account proposed involves the postulation of two proto-forms, a root *-paho ‘mouth’ and a nominal compound *paho-peti ‘door’, derived with the use of *peti ‘house’, as a modifier of the noun *-paho. It is plausible that after the Mojeño varieties innovated a separate lexeme to express the meaning ‘mouth’, -haka, also attested in Old Mojeño as a competing form along with a reflex of *-paho, it was no longer necessary to employ the modifier peti to express the derived (or ‘target’) meaning ‘door’, and, consequently, reflexes of *-paho came to mean ‘door’ exclusively in these speech varieties. The etymological account proposed is consistent not only with the usual formal, that is, phonological and morphological constraints on compelling etymologies, but is also consistent with constraints on semantic reconstruction. Reference to the more general and widespread character of formations for ‘door’ as a compound involving nouns for ‘mouth’ and ‘house’, in particular to the ubiquity of this pattern in the Arawakan language family, also meets one of the demands usually placed on credible semantic developments (see Job 1982). In the end, a rather close relationship between Terena and Mojeño is suggested by the argumentation presented here, advancing the hypothesis of a branch composed of the most recent and exclusive common ancestor of these two languages as a viable proposal for internal classification.

References Aikhenvald, Alexandra. 1999. The Arawak Language Family. In: R. M. W. Dixon, Alexandra Aikhenvald (eds.) The Amazonian Languages. Cambridge University Press: 65–106. Brandão, Ana Paula. 2014. A Reference Grammar of Paresi-Haliti (Arawakan). Ph.D. Dissertation, The University of Texas at Austin. Campbell, Lyle. 2012. Classification of the Indigenous Languages of South America. In: Lyle Campbell, Verónica Grondona (eds.) The Indigenous Languages of South America: A Comprehensive Guide. De Gruyter Mouton: 59–166. Captain, David, Linda Captain. 2005. Diccionário Básico Ilustrado Wayuunaiki- Español, Español-Wayuunaiki. Bogotá: Editorial Buena Semilla. Carvalho, Fernando O. de. 2015. On the Realization of Nominal Possession in Mehinaku: A Diachronic Account. International Journal of American Linguistics 81 (1): 119–132. Carvalho, Fernando O. de. 2016a. Terena, Chané, Guaná and Kinikinau are one and the same language: Setting the record straight on Southern Arawakan linguistic diversity. LIAMES 16 (1): 39–57. Carvalho, Fernando O. de. 2016b. Internal and Comparative Reconstruction in Yawalapiti: Palatalization and Rule Telescoping. International Journal of American Linguistics 82 (3): 285–316. Carvalho, Fernando O. de. 2016c. The Diachrony of Person-Number Marking in the Lokono-Wayuunaiki Subgroup of the Arawakan Language Family: Reconstruction, Sound Change and Analogy. Language Sciences 55: 1–15. Carvalho, Fernando O. de. Forthcoming. Fricative Debuccalization and Primary Split in Terena (Arawakan) Historical Phonology. International Journal of American Linguistics (july/2017 issue). Danielsen, Swintha. 2007. Baure: An Arawakan Language of Bolivia. Indigenous Languages of Latin America (ILLA). University of Leiden. Danielsen, Swintha. 2011. The Personal Paradigms in Baure and other Southern Arawakan Languages. International Journal of American Linguistics 77 (4): 495–520. 84

On Terena (Arawakan) -pâho ‘mouth’

Danielsen, Swintha, Lena Terhart. 2014. Paunaka. In: Mily Crevels, Pieter Muysken (eds.) Lenguas de Bolivia, Vol. III: Oriente. La Paz: Plural Editores: 221–258. Danielsen, Swintha, Michael Dunn, Pieter Muysken. 2011. The Spread of the Arawakanan Languages: A View from Structural Phylogenetics. In: Alf Hornborg, Jonathan D. Hill (eds.) Ethnicity in Ancient Amazonia. University Press of Colorado: 173–195. Eastlack, Charles. 1968. Terena (Arawakanan) Pronouns. International Journal of American Linguistics 34 (1): 1–8. Ekdahl, Elizabeth, Nancy Butler. 1969. Terêna Dictionary. Arquivo Lingüístico 095. Brasília: Summer Institute of Linguistics. Ekdahl, Elizabeth, Nancy Butler. 1979. Aprenda Terêna. Brasília: Summer Institute of Linguistics (SIL). Evans, Nicholas. 2010. Semantic Typology. In: Jae Jong Song (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Linguistic Typology. Oxford: Oxford University Press: 504–533. Gill, Wayne. 1957. Conversación y Gramática Trinitaria. San Lorenzo de Mojos: Misión Evangélica Nuevas Tribus. Gill, Wayne. 1970. Diccionario Trinitario-Castellano y Castellano-Trinitario. Misión Evangélica Nuevas Tribus. Heitzman, Allene. 1973. Reflexes of Some Proto-Campa Consonants in Modern Campan Languages and Dialects. MA Thesis, University of Kansas. Hill, Jonathan D., Fernando Santos-Granero. 2002. Comparative Arawakanan Histories. Chicago: University of Illinois Press. Hornborg, Alf, Jonathan D. Hill. 2011. Ethnicity in Ancient Amazonia. Boulder: University Press of Colorado. Job, D. M. 1982. Semantic Change and Etymologies. In: Anders Ahlqvist (ed.) Papers from the 5th International Conference on Historical Linguistics. Amsterdam: John Benjamins: 163–170. Jolkesky, Marcelo. 2016. Uma Reconstrução do Proto-Mamoré-Guaporé (Família Arawakan). LIAMES 16 (1): 7–37. Kaufman, Terrence. 1990. Language History in South America: What We Know and How to Know More. In: Doris Payne (ed.) Amazonian Linguistics: Studies in Lowland South American Languages. Austin: University of Texas Press: 13–67. Kaufman, Terrence. 1994. The Native Languages of South America. In: Christopher Moseley, R. E. Ascher (eds.) Atlas of the World’s Languages. Routledge: 46–76. Lawrence, Aimee. 2014. Reconstruction of Proto-Kampa Verbal Morphology. Proceedings of the Annual Meetings of the Berkeley Linguistics Society 2014: 256–271. Mailhammer, Robert. 2014. Etymology. In: Claire Bowern, Bethwyn Evans (eds.) The Routledge Handbook of Historical Linguistics. London and New York: Routledge: 423–441. Marbán, Pedro. 1702. Arte de la Lengua Moxa. Lima: Imprenta Real de Joseph de Contreras. Martius. Karl Friedrich von. 1867. Beiträge zur Ethnographie und Sprachenkunde Amerikas zumal Brasiliens. Leipzig: Friedrich Fleischer. Matteson, Esther. 1972. Proto-Arawakanan. In: Esther Matteson (ed.) Comparative Studies in Amerindian Languages. The Hague: Mouton. Michael, Lev. 2009. Review of Ramirez 2001. International Journal of American Linguistics 75 (3): 447–450. Michael, Lev. 2011. La Reconstrucción y la Clasificación de la Rama Kampa de la Família Arawakan. Presented at CILLA V, 2011. Mihas, Elena. 2015. A Grammar of Alto Perené (Arawak). Berlin: De Gruyter Mouton. Mosonyi, Esteban E. 2000. Introducción al Análisis del Idioma Baniva. In: María S. González de Pérez, María L. Rodríguez de Montes (eds.) Lenguas Indígenas de Colombia: Una Visión Descriptiva. Santafé de Bogotá: Instituto Caro y Cuervo: 499–513. Olza Zubiri, Jesús, Conchita Nuni de Chapi, Juan Tube. 2004. Gramática Moja Ignaciana (Morfosintaxis). San Cristóbal: Universidad Católica de Táchira. Ott, Willis, Rebecca B. de Ott. 1959. Fonemas de la Lengua Ignaciana. Notas Lingüísticas de Bolivia, 1. La Paz: Instituto Lingüístico de Verano (ILV): 1-13. Ott Willis, Rebecca B. de Ott. 1983. Diccionario Ignaciano y Castellano Con Apuntes Gramaticales. Cochabamba: Summer Institute of Linguistics (SIL). Passer, Matthias B. 2016. (What) Do Verbal Classifiers Classify? Lingua 174: 16–44. Payne, David. 1990. Some Widespread Grammatical Forms in South American Languages. In: Doris Payne (ed.) Amazonian Linguistics: Studies in Lowland South American Languages. Austin: University of Texas Press: 75–87. Payne, David. 1991. A Classification of Maipuran (Arawakanan) Languages Based on Shared Lexical Retentions. In: Desmond Derbyshire, Geoffrey K. Pullum (orgs.) Handbook of Amazonian Languages. Vol. 3. Mouton de Gruyter: 355–499. 85

Fernando O. de Carvalho

Ramirez, Henri. 1992. Le Bahuana: Une Nouvelle Langue de la Famille Arawak. Amerindia 17. Ramirez, Henri. 2001. Línguas Arawakan da Amazônia Setentrional. Manaus: Editora da Universidade do Amazonas. Rose, Françoise. 2015. Innovative Complexity in the Pronominal Paradigm of Mojeño: A Result of Contact? F. Gardani et al. (eds.) Borrowed Morphology. Berlin: The Gruyter Mouton: 239–265. Sabio, Fernando, Celia K. Ordoñez. 2006. Hererun Wagüchagu. La Ceiba: Asociación Misionera Garífuna de Honduras. Schmidt, Max. 1903. Guaná. Zeitschrift für Ethnologie 35 (2/3): 324–336. Tadmor, Uri, Martin Haspelmath, Bradley Taylor. 2010. Borrowability and the Notion of Basic Vocabulary. Diachronica 27 (2): 226–246. Taunay, Alfredo. 1868. Scenas de Viagem: Exploração entre os Rios Taquary e Aquidauna no Distrito de Miranda. Rio de Janeiro: Typographia Americana. Urban, Matthias. 2011. Asymmetries in Overt Marking and Directionality in Semantic Change. Journal of Historical Linguistics 1 (1): 3–47. Walker, Robert, Lincoln A. Ribeiro. 2010. Bayesian Phylogeography of the Arawakan Expansion in Lowland South America. Proc. R. Soc. B 278: 2562–2567. Wilkins, David. 1996. Natural Tendencies of Semantic Change and the Search for Cognates. In: Mark Durie, Malcolm Ross (eds.) The Comparative Method Reviewed: Regularity and Irregularity in Language Change. Oxford University Press: 264–304. Wise, Mary Ruth. 1990. Valence-Changing Affixes in Maipuran Arawakan Languages. In: Doris Payne (ed.) Amazonian Linguistics: Studies in Lowland South American Languages. Austin: University of Texas Press: 89–116. WLP (Wapixana Language Project). 2000. Scholar’s Dictionary and Grammar of the Wapishana Language. Lethem: Wapishana Language Project and SIL International.

ʗˀ˛˗ʸ˗ʿ˟ ʿˀ ʂʸ˛ʻʸ˕˰˳. ʨ˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀ ˪ˋ˧ˋˣˁ (ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˥˙) ˥˨ˣ˥˅˻ ๑˧˥˪๏ ˘ ˋˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˅ˣ˫˪˧ˋˣˣˋ˙ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˘ ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ɳ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ -pâho ‘˧˥˪’ ˅ ̀˖˻˜ˋ ˪ˋ˧ˋˣˁ. ɳ ˨˥˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘˘ ˦˧˘ˣ̀˪˥ ˨˵˘˪ˁ˪˼, ˵˪˥ ˅ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲ ˽˪˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˼˘ ˫ ˣˋˋ ˣˋ˪ ˜˥ˆˣˁ˪˥˅; ˁ˅˪˥˧, ˥ˊˣˁ˜˥, ˦˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˪ˁ˜˘ˋ ˜˥ˆˣˁ˪˻ ˅˨ˋ ːˋ ˋ˨˪˼ ˅ ̀˖˻˜ˋ ˢ˥˲ˋˣ˼˥, ˄༤˘˖˜˥˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˪ˋ˧ˋˣˁ (˥˄ˁ ˅˲˥ˊ̀˪ ˅ ˄˥༤˘˅˘˙˨˜˥-˦ˁ˧ˁˣ˨˜˫˿ ˦˥ˊˆ˧˫˦˦˫ ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˼˘). ɳ ˘ˆˣˁ˨˘ˁˣ˥ ˘ ˪˧˘ˣ˘˪ˁ˧˘˥ (ˊ˅ˁ ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ˲˥˧˥˸˥ ˘˖˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˊ˘ˁ༤ˋ˜˪ˁ ˢ˥˲ˋˣ˼˥) ˽˪˘ ˜˥ˆˣˁ˪˻ ˦˥ˊ˅ˋ˧ˆ༤˘˨˼ ˨ˋˢˁˣ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ˫ ˨ˊ˅˘ˆ˫ ˘ ˨˪ˁ༤˘ ˥˖ˣˁ˵ˁ˪˼ ‘ˊ˅ˋ˧˼’. ɯ˅˪˥˧ ˥˦˘˨˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˨ˋˢˁˣ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˘ ˱˥˧ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˨˅̀˖˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˽˪˘ˢ˘ ˱˥˧ˢˁˢ˘ ˵ˋ˧ˋ˖ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˿ ˦˧˥˨˪˥˙ ˥˨ˣ˥˅˻ *-paho ‘˧˥˪’ ˘ ˜˥ˢ˦˥˖˘˪ˁ *paho-peti ๑ˊ˅ˋ˧˼๏ (˄˫˜˅. ‘˧˥˪ /ˊ˥ˢˁ/’). ɸˁˣˣˁ̀ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˖ˁ˴˘̀ ˘ˢˋˋ˪ ˖ˣˁ˵˘ˢ˥˨˪˼ ˘ ˨ ˪˥˵˜˘ ˖˧ˋˣ˘̀ ˅ˣ˫˪˧ˋˣˣˋ˙ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˘ ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅: ˁ˅˪˥˧ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˪ˋ˧ˋˣˁ ˘ ˢ˥˲ˋˣ˼˥ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˪ ˥˪ˊˋ༤˼ˣ˫˿ ˅ˋ˪˅˼ ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˼˘ — ˦˥ˊˆ˧˫˦˦˫ ˁ˵ˁˣˋ (˅ ˜˥˪˥˧˫˿ ˣˋ ˅˲˥ˊ˘˪ ̀˖˻˜ ˄ˁ˫˧ˋ). ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: ˁ˧ˁ˅ˁ˜˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘, ̀˖˻˜ ˪ˋ˧ˋˣˁ, ˨ˋˢˁˣ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˨ˊ˅˘ˆ˘

86

George Starostin Russian State University for the Humanities / Russian Presidential Academy; [email protected]

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama In this paper, I present a detailed lexicostatistical survey of the reconstructed 50-item wordlists (the “more stable” half of the classic Swadesh list) for three language groups of Northeast Africa — Nubian, Nara, and Tama, commonly ascribed to the East Sudanic family and often described in related literature as forming a specifically tight-knit node within that taxon. The survey shows that both the number and the nature of direct lexicostatistical matches between these three groups is plausibly interpretable as decisive evidence for genetic relationship, adding one more formal confirmation to the evidence previously assembled by J. Greenberg, M. L. Bender, Claude Rilly and other scholars. Glottochronological interpretation of the evidence, however, indicates that Nubian-Nara-Tama should be dated to at least the 5th millennium BC, which makes it older than Indo-European and presumably very hard to reconstruct in sufficient detail. The paper itself is the first in a series of planned publications that will explore the East Sudanic hypothesis from a combined lexicostatistical and etymological perspective. Keywords: Nilo-Saharan languages, East Sudanic languages, Nubian languages, Tama languages, African historical linguistics.

General introduction Of the three macrofamilies that Joseph Greenberg had delineated in his seminal works on African language classification (most importantly Greenberg 1966 1), the “Nilo-Saharan” taxon has always shared the most vague outlines. While Greenberg's “Niger-Kordofanian” languages are informally understood as “the ones with the complex noun class systems” (subsequently, the few subgroups that violate this feature, such as Mande, are sometimes viewed with suspicion even by supporters of the Niger-Kordofanian hypothesis2), and Greenberg's “Khoisan” is just as informally understood as “the click family”, there are no such definitive features to characterize all, or even the majority of the language groups that, according to Greenberg, constitute the Nilo-Saharan macrofamily: the hypothesis is based on numerous, if not properly systematized, lexical and grammatical resemblances rather than any structural homologies. This fact in itself is not necessarily problematic for historical linguists, since it is commonly accepted, and has frequently been pointed out by Greenberg himself, that genetic relationship is not to be established based on typological features of languages, easily open to areal influence (cf. the spread of “Khoisan” click phonemes to neighboring Southern Bantu languages), but should always be defined primarily by the presence of important homologies The fourth macrofamily — Afro-Asiatic, formerly known as Hamito-Semitic — was already more or less securely recognized as a genetic unity long before Greenberg's works, and may be kept out of any general discussion on the overall quality of Greenberg's methods and arguments. 2 Blench (2011) presents a seemingly strong case for the innovative nature of nominal class markers in the bulk of NK, but this view has not yet gained extensive support from specialists. 1

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/2 (2017) • Pp. 87–113 • © The authors, 2017

George Starostin

in the phonetic structures of lexical and grammatical morphemes bearing identical or similar meanings. To that end, Greenberg's argumentation in favor of his macrofamilies always consists of comparative lists and tables of such morphemes. Nevertheless, typological considerations still continue to play an important part in the general acceptance of macrofamily hypotheses — if anything, they offer intuitive support in situations where form-based arguments are either too complex or too dubious for us to quickly assimilate and evaluate. Since the primary methodology behind Greenberg's macrofamilies has been that of “mass comparison”, commonly criticized by linguists as a procedure that is unable to properly separate genuine traces of genetic relationship from either areal contacts or chance similarities, it is not surprising that his comparative lists of words and morphemes do not seriously impress modern specialists, whereas such features as the presence of click phonemes or noun class markers do — at the very least, such structural homologies cannot be easily explained away as accidental resemblances. In this type of situation, linguists who properly dedicate themselves to the construction of an optimal scenario of genetic relationship in a particular linguistic area should find it of essential importance to define specific sets of “genetic markers” (a term that seems quite naturally borrowable from molecular biology) that concisely characterize the postulated taxon and distinguish it from its neighbors. Roughly speaking, such markers should: (a) constitute either grammatical morphemes or lexical roots that belong to the basic (i.e. generally more resistant to diachronic change) layer of language; (b) be reconstructible for all or most of the proposed subbranches of the taxon (at the very least, be reliably reconstructible in its most distant branches, to assure their protolanguage status); (c) respect the general laws of phonetic change, suggested for the taxon, or, if the taxon is a high-level one, at least yield reflexes in daughter branches that could be deemed “phonetically compatible”, i.e. explainable through typologically and historically realistic scenarios of phonetic change3; (d) demonstrate either the exact same meaning in all or most of the daughter branches, or display minimal semantic variety, confined to diachronically and synchronically frequent types of semantic change or polysemy found in the world's languages (such as ‘eyeɎ:Ɏsee’, ‘blackɎ:Ɏdark’, ‘knowɎ:Ɏhear’, etc.) 4; (e) preferably, at least some of them should be exclusively representative of the suggested taxon, in that it could be at least approximately demonstrated that they are reconstructible in that particular form and meaning for the proto-language of that particular taxon and no other. For linguistic taxa that have diverged within the last five or six thousand years and whose linguistic history has been reasonably well studied, due to an abundance of both primary data and analytical research, the presence of such genetic markers is an obvious fact — a lexical root such as, e.g., Proto-Indo-European *ok։- ‘eye’ satisfies all of the listed conditions. For speculative linguistic “macrofamilies” whose hypothetical age goes far beyond the specified chronological range, producing such markers is a highly complex challenge, since the probA detailed explanation of the idea of “phonetic compatibility” and its difference from both the weaker criterion of “phonetic similarity” and the stronger criterion of “phonetic correspondence” may be found in Starostin 2013: 57–64. 4 Although, as of now, there is still no single definitive list of such polysemies that would be both sufficiently comprehensive and obtained through a formal methodology, progress is slowly being made with such works as Youn et al. 2016. As far as basic lexicon is concerned, careful fixation of attested polysemies is conducted by contributors to the Global Lexicostatistical Database project, which allows to perform rough statistical estimates of what may count for a “trivial” polysemy or semantic shift. 3

88

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

ability of their successful recovery decreases with each added millennium. Nevertheless, even a highly limited set may be convincing if it can be shown to have been arrived at without any distortions of available evidence or violations of known tendencies of language change through idiosyncratic assumptions. In the case of Nilo-Saharan, the proper search for such “genetic markers” was originally launched by M. Lionel Bender, whose sets of “excellent”, “good”, and “fair” isoglosses (Bender 1997: 77–105), assembled in favor of the hypothesis, satisfy some of the above-listed criteria. However, even some of his “excellent” isoglosses play quite loosely with semantics (e.ɍg. such connections as ‘elbowɏ/ɏclawɏ/ɏfoot’ or ‘hornɏ/ɏboneɏ/ɏrib’ are quite suspicious) and remain uninterpretable in terms of reasonable historical scenarios of semantic change; numerous phonetic deviations are recorded without any attempts at constructive explanations; and, perhaps most importantly, a huge number of comparanda are not shown to be reconstructible for the required intermediate levels of comparison, which means that they have been too quickly transferred to a deeper level of comparison without proper completion of the preceding stage of analysis — and, consequently, without a reliable “safety net” against accidental resemblances. The late Lionel Bender himself may have been well aware of these limitations of his own research; in any case, it is somewhat instructive that, instead of expanding his relatively short overview monograph on Nilo-Saharan (Bender 1997) to the size of an etymological dictionary (such as the huge, but ultimately unconvincing volume by Christopher Ehret (2001)), he preferred to follow it up with an equally short comparative treatise on East Sudanic (Bender 2005) — a pioneering study, focusing on one of the largest sub-taxa originally defined by Greenberg within Nilo-Saharan. The natural implication behind Bender's East Sudanic book is that, without a proper understanding of what exactly is “East Sudanic”, we cannot gain any understanding of what exactly could be “Nilo-Saharan”. Ironically, in his introduction to the book, Bender mentions having been unable to establish an “East Sudanic Working Group”, since “the main problem seems to be that no one is willing to go beyond a narrower focus on sub-families” (p. vi). Indeed, genealogical nodes like East Sudanic find themselves in double trouble: the proverbial “splitters” (or simply specialists with a narrow focus) are not interested in working on them because the explored genetic connections are seen as too deep and complicated to recover, whereas the proverbial “lumpers” (linguists with a pronounced interest in macro-comparative studies) view them, at best, as quick stepping stones, postulated mainly for the sake of classificatory convenience, then more or less forgotten as the interest rapidly shifts to highest-level taxa. The only work other than Bender's all-too-brief monograph that actually tries to tackle East Sudanic on a serious basis seems to be Rilly 2009, which includes a very thorough comparative analysis of the phonological systems and lexica of those branches that, according to the author, constitute the “Northern” division of this family, including Nubian, Tama, Nara, and Nyimang. However, even in Rilly's book, the arguments in favor of East Sudanic are not really assigned any stand-alone value; rather, they are considered significant inasmuch as they help determine the genetic affiliation of the Meroitic language, which, based on scarce evidence of often dubious quality, Rilly seeks to relate to “Northeast Sudanic” (including Nubian, which seems to have the strongest links with Meroitic, although it still remains unclear whether most of them are of a genetic or areal nature). Furthermore, dealing with but one branch of East Sudanic is certainly not the same thing as trying to evaluate the validity of the entire family. It was mostly these considerations that eventually led to a general lexicostatistics-based survey of possible genetic connections between the various groups of languages that constitute Greenberg's “Nilo-Saharan”, in which the East Sudanic hypothesis was tested first — without taking into account any higher level connections. The test, carried out as part of a 89

George Starostin

large ongoing project on the general classification of African languages, followed a standardized methodology that had already been tried out on the so-called “Khoisan” languages, yielding results that seem to be largely consistent with current mainstream views on their classification (Starostin 2013). The main stages of this procedure may be briefly summarized as follows. 1. Define the primary constituents of the analysis. These are identified as relatively small language groupings whose genetic reality is beyond reasonable doubt and commonly accepted by all specialists — e.g., Nubian, Tama, Daju, Kuliak, etc.; all the languages within each such group share numerous cognates easily linked together with sound laws, as well as robust grammatical isoglosses, indicating a relatively recent split from a common ancestor (not to exceed 2,000–3,000 years based on any available historical, archaeological, and lexicostatistical estimates). 2. Assemble and check complete 100-item Swadesh lists for as many languages of these small groupings as possible, based on the most recent and accurate sources available. The compilation procedure closely follows the guidelines that were laid down in earlier methodological publications (Starostin 2010; Kassian et al. 2010). 3. Carry out a lexicostatistical analysis of the data in order to determine the internal classification of the groupings (most importantly, the primary splits within each of them; these results will have a direct bearing on the efficiency of point 4). 4. Reconstruct the proto-wordlist for each such grouping, based on regular etymological analysis and a complex set of criteria used to determine the “optimal” candidate for the expression of each particular Swadesh meaning in the protolanguage. Unlike wordlists for attested languages, reconstructed proto-wordlists are limited to 50 of the most generally stable Swadesh items (out of 100), since reconstruction of the second, less stable, half usually turns out to be cost-ineffective for purposes of high-level comparison and classification5. As a rule, this is the most complicated, time-consuming, and text-heavy part of the entire procedure (unless the group in question consists of several very closely related dialects that do not require detailed historical analysis). 5. Subject the reconstructed proto-wordlists to several additional stages of lexicostatistic analysis, which include running a completely automatic procedure of finding “pseudocognates” between reconstructions, based on the “Dolgopolsky consonantal classes” method of phonetic comparison (general description of the method and an example of its application may be found in Kassian, Zhivlov, Starostin 2015). After that, the results undergo a procedure of “manual correction” which takes into account the locally specific phonetic features of compared (proto-)languages, not recognized in the universally applicable method. 6. Compare the lexicostatistical matrices and classificatory trees generated by the “fully automated” and “manually corrected” methods and select one as the optimal choice for a working model (in most cases, this turns out to be the treeɏ/ɏmatrix based on the “manually corrected” list of hypothetical cognates, although there may be occasional exceptions). The current results of this procedure 6 are summarized in the following lexicostatistical matrix (Table 1) and phylogenetic tree (Fig. 1), both of them reflecting the “manual correction” See Starostin 2010 for additional information on how the average “stability index” for various Swadesh items was calculated and on other technical factors that have influenced the final compilation of the universally applicable 50-item list. The procedure of proto-wordlist reconstruction, illustrated by specific examples, is described in detail in Starostin 2016. 6 These results differ slightly, but not crucially, from the results published earlier in Starostin 2014: 677 — an inevitable development that is due to corrections of previously produced reconstructions in the light of newly available data or occasional spotted mistakes in previous analysis. It goes without saying that these results as well are liable to future amendments, since new sources of data that allow for deeper insights become available to researchers on a steady basis. 5

90

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

model (which is not very different from the fully automatic model, except for the relative position of the Daju branch on the tree; this is due to certain rare types of phonetic change that took place on the way from the Proto-East Sudanic stage to Proto-Daju, some of which are quite evident even on the limited data of the 100-item wordlists). Table 1. Lexicostatistical matrix for Greenberg's “Eastern Sudanic” (50-item wordlists).

Nubian Nara Tama Southwest Surmic Southeast Surmic Majang

Nara Tama

SWS

SES

Maj.

WNil

ENil

SNil

Nyi.

Tem.

Jebel

Daju

Kul.

26%

14% 10%

12% 10%

4% 8%

18% 12%

16% 10%

20% 12%

22% 12%

12% 12%

12% 12%

4% 6%

8% 4%

20% 20%

6%

10%

6%

8%

12%

16%

12%

6%

4%

6%

2%

40%

22%

16%

14%

20%

14%

14%

18%

8%

6%

14%

20%

12%

18%

12%

14%

16%

10%

4%

12%

West Nilotic

10%

10%

10%

10%

14%

12%

2%

35%

18%

14%

18%

18%

16%

4%

40%

12%

15%

20%

18%

4%

20%

17%

14%

12%

8%

14%

12%

2%

20%

16%

6%

12%

4%

East Nilotic South Nilotic Nyimang

18%

Temein Jebel Daju

6%

Figure 1. Phylogenetic interpretation of the matrix in Fig. 17 È 2000BC Kuliak

È 1000BC

2000AD

Tama Nara Nubian Daju West Nilotic South Nilotic East Nilotic Temein Nyimang Jebel Majang Southwest Surmic Southeast Surmic

Both the matrix and the tree diagram suggest that, in general, Greenberg's “East Sudanic” is a viable proposition. In the majority of cases, pairwise percentages exceed 10ɏ% and sometimes rise as high as 20–25ɏ% — for a procedure that relies exclusively on phonetic similarity and inevitably omits a share of true historical cognates, this is a significant number that is very The tree diagram has been generated by means of the distance-based neighbor-joining method used in the StarLing software, with a glottochronological component (needed as a comparison basis for reconstructed protolanguages of varying time depths); see S. Starostin 2000 on details of the glottochronological method and Kassian 2015 for a more detailed description of the tree-building procedure. Glottochronological dates on the tree in question are only given up to the approximate time depths of all the intermediate reconstructions involved in the comparison; due to the “automated” cognate-finding procedure forming the core of the present analysis, chronological figures beyond the threshold of 3–4 thousand years will most likely be incorrect. 7

91

George Starostin

rarely reached under the same conditions by unrelated pairs of languages. Additionally, the results are in agreement with Bender's and Rilly's idea of a primary split into two branches (Bender's “Ek” and “En” and Rilly's “Northeast” and “Southeast” ones, respectively), with Nubian, Nara, and Tama constituting the bulk of the former; only Nyimang, which both researchers decidedly place in the “Ekɏ/ɏNortheast” branch, is grouped closer to Temein on the resulting tree, but this may be a phylogenetic error caused by some unrecognized convergence processes between Temein and Nyimang, an issue to be investigated later on a more thorough etymological basis. The only glaring candidate for potential exclusion from the East Sudanic inventory is the Kuliak group: these languages consistently show around 4ɏ% to 6ɏ% resemblances with other East Sudanic branches on the 50-item wordlist — a figure that makes Kuliak as “East Sudanic” in nature as, say, the Hadza isolate (with which Kuliak languages also share 6ɏ% of superficial matches), most of which are monoconsonantal and either reflect chance similarities or, perhaps, occasional traces of much deeper relationships that are, at the present stage of analysis, indistinguishable from the former8. Nevertheless, in order to be properly convincing, any “working model” constructed by means of preliminary lexicostatistics has to undergo further scrutiny. Even a situation where two or more languages show 20–25ɏ% of similarities on the 50-item list may theoretically be interpreted as the result of tense linguistic contact, perhaps multiplied by a few accidental resemblances. From the regular historical-comparative point of view, pure statistics is not enough: the observed and quantified similarities must satisfy our general expectations for a situation of language relationship. In particular, similarities must be organised into patterns of recurrent correspondences — a task that is often impossible to perform based on the limited material of 100, let alone 50 items, so additional material must be considered — and, if possible, additional argumentation must be presented as to why these similarities are more conveniently explained as the results of vertical rather than horizontal transmission, since regular correspondence patterns can be observed between donor and recipient languages just as frequently as between the descendants of a single protolanguage. The chief goal of the current paper is to investigate one particular node of the preliminary lexicostatistical tree — the hypothetical ancestor of the Nubian, Tama, and Nara languages. Among supporters of the East Sudanic and the broader Nilo-Saharan hypothesis, close relationship of these groups seems to be a given: it is supported by Lionel Bender (2005: 1), who groups these three taxa together into the “Ek” subbranch of East Sudanic (with the further addition of Nyimang), Christopher Ehret (2001: 88–89), who calls this tripartite taxon “Astaboran”, and Claude Rilly (2009: 44), who agrees with Bender's classification, renaming his “Ek” subbranch “Northeast Sudanic” (as opposed to “Southeast Sudanic”, comprising Surmic, Nilotic, and several other branches). However, a formal demonstration of this relationship based on a general, universally applicable methodology is still lacking, to the extent that some “conservative” encyclopaedic sources do not acknowledge the genetic link between these language groups as established beyond reasonable doubt 9. Occasional biconsonantal matches can be found as well, but these are almost always scattered and confined to pairwise rather than mutil-lateral matches — cf., for instance, a curious match between Temein and Ik in the word for ‘star’: Ik ੅՝яಙՄюát = Temein ೚úlì-t, pl. k੎฿=೚úl-àԸ id. Considering that lexical contacts between speakers of Temein, who dwell in the Nuba mountains, and Ugandan Ik people are hardly likely, this phonetic similarity is currently best explained as an accidental resemblance. 9 Cf.: “No conclusive, methodologically sound basis for assigning Nubian to East Sudanic or to an alleged full or partial Nilo-Saharan has been presented” (Hammarström et al. 2017: http://glottolog.org/resource/languoid/id/nubi1251). 8

92

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

The perfect way to demonstrate this relationship would have been a thorough, methodologically rigorous reconstruction of the phonological inventory of Proto-Nubian-Nara-Tama, supported by a large etymological corpus and based on recurrent phonetic correspondences, along with comparative grammatical evidence. However, even such a demonstration, in order to be easily appreciated by non-specialists in these languages, would still have to distinguish between “core” and “peripheral” layers of evidence, where only the “core” would serve the primary purpose of proving the relationship, whereas the “peripheral” layer (e.g. comparanda drawn from the cultural lexicon, featuring phonetic irregularities or questionable semantic shifts, etc.) would rather serve the purpose of multiplying our alleged knowledge on the already proven common ancestor of Nubian, Nara, and Tama. Therefore, our intention here is to concentrate on the “core” evidence, extracting it by means of a formal lexicostatistical procedure. The procedure involves: — demonstrating that a statistically significant number of phonetic homologies is detected between the compared protoforms for Proto-Nubian, Proto-Tama, and Nara equivalents for Swadesh meanings on the 50-item wordlist; — interpreting these homologies in terms of regular phonetic correspondences, bringing in additional lexical data where necessary or possible; — detecting additional potential cognates on the same wordlist that have not been identified automatically due to general limitations of the “consonantal class” method, and also interpreting them in terms of regular correspondences, if possible; — detecting even more additional potential cognates between the compared taxa that involve typologically frequent, “trivial” semantic shifts from a basic Swadesh meaning to a semantically adjacent meaning; — justifying a genetic rather than areal interpretation of the attested homologiesɏ/ɏregularities by analyzing their distribution across various subdivisions of the 50-item wordlist, from terms that are “more stable on the average” to those that are “less stable on the average”.

The data Complete 100-item Swadesh wordlists have been compiled and annotated for all the languages from the three taxa in question where officially published or archival data were available in sufficient quantity; semantic selection of the optimal equivalents was performed based on the guidelines laid down in Kassian et al. 2010. Reconstruction of the optimal wordlists for Proto-Nubian and Proto-Tama (Nara, having no close relatives of its own, does not require a separate reconstruction, although one might occasionally resort to elements of internal reconstruction) was carried out for the 50-item subdivision of the complete 100-item wordlist; since a very detailed explanation for each of the items has already been published in Starostin 2013, only the least trivial and most significant decisions will be outlined in this paper. Below we list all the principal data sources and briefly comment on the internal taxonomy of the respective language groups, as well as on previous and current research on the phonological reconstruction of their ancestral states. A. Nubian. Wordlists were compiled for 10 languages belonging to the Nubian group: (a) Nobiin; primary source — Werner 1987, with Bell 1970 used as an additional control source and Lepsius 1880 consulted for historical purposes. Unfortunately, the large dictionary Khalil 1996 may not be used for lexicostatistical purposes, since it intentionally omits all Arabic borrowings and mixes together data from a variety of old and new sources on different dialects of the language. 93

George Starostin

(b) Kenuzi-Dongolawi. These two closely related languages (or dialects of a single macrolanguage) are respectively represented by the data in Hofmann 1986 (Kenuzi) and Armbruster 1965 (Dongolawi), with Massenbach 1962 used as a control source for both. (c) Hill Nubian. This large cluster of relatively small languages, scattered among the Nuba Hills, is represented by wordlists for Dilling (primary source: Kauczor 1920, with Jabr el Dar 2006 used for additional control), Kadaru, Debri (primary source: Thelwall 1978), Karko, and Wali (primary source: Krell 2012). Older data from Carl Meinhof's comparative vocabulary of Nubian languages (Meinhof 1918) have also been consulted for historical purposes, but are unusable as primary sources. (d) Birgid; primary source — Thelwall 1977, with MacMichael 1920 consulted for controlɏ/ historical purposes; since this language, constituting a significantly divergent branch of Nubian, has been reported as extinct, every bit of older data on it is extremely valuable. (e) Midob; primary source — Werber 1993, with Thelwall 1983 consulted for control purposes. In addition, a wordlist for the Old Nubian language, represented by texts from the 8th – 11th centuries A.D., has also been compiled based on the comprehensive dictionary of Gerald Browne (1996). Although the amount of recovered texts and their lexical content is large enough to permit the use of Old Nubian for lexicostatistical purposes, it has only been possible to fill in 75 out of 100 slots (and a few of these entries remain under serious doubt for various reasons), so any lexicostatistical conclusions on replacement rates between Old Nubian and modern Nubian dialects must be made with caution. Worse still, although this topic has not been seriously explored so far, there are reasons to suggest that from a lexical perspective, “Old Nubian” is not a concise single dialect, but an amalgamation of several distinct speech varieties: thus, lexical analysis indicates every once in a while the presence of “doublets”, in which one word is cognate with its equivalent in modern Kenuzi-Dongolawi and the other one with the equivalent in modern Nobiin (e. g. Ɩul- vs. ado- ‘white’, or aman- vs. asse- ~ essi- ‘white’). This goes against the general idea of Old Nubian as being specifically the ancestor of modern “Fadidjaɏ/ɏMahas”, i. e. Nobiin dialects (Browne 2002: 1), although from a formal statistical perspective, Old Nubian does have more in common with Nobiin than with Kenuziɏ/ɏDongolawi, and it makes more sense to assume a number of Kenuzi-Dongolawi interpolations in the Old Nubian corpus rather than to assign Old Nubian to a third separate subbranch of the Nile-Nubian branch (see below for more details on the overall classification of Nubian); this conclusion also agrees with the additional data on the varied nature of Old Nubian texts as adduced in Bechhaus-Gerst 2011: 20–22. The main principle employed in the construction of a unified wordlist for Old Nubian has been that of statistic frequency. Hapax legomena or contextually ambiguous forms were accepted as main entries only in those cases where no other equivalents for the required Swadesh meaning were available. In case of “doublets” where one word is frequently encountered in texts and the other one is basically a hapax, only the frequently used word was included in the calculations. Consistent use of this principle showed that the majority of exclusive isoglosses, as a result, is indeed between Old Nubian and Nobiin rather than Old Nubian and Kenuzi-Dongolawi. Refined lexicostatistical calculations (slightly revised and corrected as compared to the previous analysis in Starostin 2014: 34) yield the following percentage matrix for Nubian (Table 2), which, through the application of Sergei Starostin's revised glottochronological method and the Starling-NJ phylogenetic method (Burlak, Starostin 2005: 162–167; Kassian 2015), may then be converted to the following tree format (Figure 2). 94

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

Table 2. Lexicostatistical matrix for Nubian languages (100-item Swadesh wordlists)

ONU NOB DNG KNZ DIL KAD DEB KRK WLI

NOB

DNG

KNZ

DIL

KAD

DEB

KRK

WLI

BIR

MID

0.81

0.63

0.63

0.42

0.43

0.44

0.45

0.42

0.39

0.51

0.66

0.66

0.40

0.42

0.41

0.41

0.39

0.42

0.51

0.93

0.59

0.61

0.62

0.55

0.54

0.56

0.57

0.60

0.59

0.60

0.55

0.55

0.56

0.57

0.92

0.91

0.75

0.76

0.64

0.57

0.92

0.79

0.81

0.60

0.56

0.80

0.82

0.59

0.57

0.72

0.56

0.53

0.59

0.55

BIR

0.56

Figure 2. Phylogenetic tree for Nubian languages (with glottochronological interpretation)

This classification largely agrees with the traditional model as described, e.g., in Bechhaus-Gerst 1985, with a rapid disintegration of Common Nubian into four different branches (Nile-Nubian, Midob, Birgid, and Hill Nubian), but sharply contradicts the later reclassification in Bechhaus-Gerst 1989 and 1996; according to Bechhaus-Gerst, Nobiin should be excluded from Nile-Nubian and positioned as the first branch to split off from Common Nubian, while the increase in lexical and grammatical similarity with Kenuzi-Dongolawi is explained by her as the result of a prolonged period of convergence. This re-classification has been critically scrutinized in Starostin 2014: 93–96, and still more recently in Vasilyev, Starostin 2014, where it was concluded that Nobiin is indeed far more lexically divergent from the rest of Nubian than any other constituent of this group, but that the divergent elements are consistently better interpreted as representing a non-Nubian substrate rather than archaisms inherited from Proto-Nubian10; subsequently, the convergence phenomenon must have taken place between Nobiin and some non-Nubian language or languages that used to be spoken to the north of the original Nubian homeland, rather than between Nobiin and KenuziDongolawi. Results of the analysis convince us that there is no need to dismantle the old Nile10

Precisely the same conclusion has been independently reached by Claude Rilly (2009: 285–288). 95

George Starostin

Nubian branch, but that there is every reason to treat Nobiin data with caution when it comes to external comparison, particularly if it finds no parallels in other Nubian languages. The first attempt to establish regular phonetic correspondences between various Nubian languages and set up a Proto-Nubian reconstruction was carried out by Ernst Zyhlarz (1950), but the research was largely inadequate due to lack of sufficient data sources on Hill Nubian, Birgid, and Midob. The first truly significant reconstruction of the Proto-Nubian phonological system, supported by a small etymological vocabulary and still fully relevant today, was carried out by Marianne Bechhaus-Gerst (1985); since then, a somewhat more refined version has been offered by Claude Rilly (2009: 211–288), and additional observations on the complex developments of Proto-Nubian phonology in Hill Nubian languages were made by Angelika Jakobi (2006). The reconstruction system adopted in Starostin 2014 and, consequently, this paper as well, rests largely on the research of Bechhaus-Gerst, but offers a few corrections, for the most part, concerning non-standard consonantal behavior in clusters that appear on morphemic borders; some of these are briefly commented upon below in connection with specific items. In most of the proposed systems, Nile-Nubian languages (and possibly also Birgid) are generally viewed as more phonologically conservative, but data from Hill Nubian and Midob are also essential in order to better assess the distribution of cognates in daughter branches and make more reliable choices for Swadesh meanings on the Proto-Nubian level. B. Nara (= Barea). Nara is typically described as a linguistic isolate, although sources note that the language may be divided in at least two distinct pairs of dialects: Eastern (HigirMogoreeb) and Western (Koyta-Saantoorta), with limited mutual intelligibility (Rilly 2005: 1, 2009: 178). Unfortunately, all available sources of significant data concentrate exclusively on Higir as the most widely spoken variety of Nara, which leaves no space for a serious historical reconstruction. The most important of these are Bender 1968, with a 200-item wordlist, and the much earlier descriptive monograph by Leo Reinisch (1874), which also contains a detailed vocabulary. For etymological research, the somewhat later grammatical sketch Thompson 1976 and a few recent works, like Hayward 2000 on the Nara tonal system or Abushush, Hayward 2002 on general phonology, also provide some limited data support. C. Tama. Descriptive work on this small, but significantly diversified language group, spoken in Ouaddaï and Dar Fur, has been very scarce so far, with no grammars or dictionaries produced for even a single language. The principal source of data, in fact, remains officially unpublished: it is a comparative vocabulary of all known Tama languages, compiled by John Edgar (1990) from the largest possible variety of sources, including his own field data as well as records stretching all the way back to the late 19th century, and also incorporating data from printed sources such as Lukas 1933 on Ibiri and Lukas 1938 on Sungor. Although made available (by kind courtesy of Roger Blench) in almost print-ready form, the work formally retains the status of a manuscript due to the author's untimely demise; only a few bits of the data appeared in print form, illustrating Edgar's pioneering attempt at a reconstruction of Proto-Tama phonology (Edgar 1991a). According to Edgar's classification that has also been lexicostatistically confirmed in Starostin 2014, the Tama group is divided into two primary branches: the smaller West Tama cluster, consisting of Ibiri (Mararit) and its satellite dialects such as Abu Sharib, and the larger East Tama cluster, which is itself divided into Miisiirii and Tama-Erenga-Sungor (three closely related dialects). Data for all five varieties, collected in Edgar 1990, are sufficient to construct near-complete Swadesh wordlists that yield the following cognacy matrix (Table 3; also slightly revised as compared to the previous analysis in Starostin 2014: 317), and the following phylogenetic tree (Fig. 3; also constructed by means of the Starling-NJ method). 96

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

Table 3. Lexicostatistical matrix for Tama languages (100-item Swadesh wordlists)

TAM ERE SUN MIS IBI

ERE

SUN

MIS

IBI

ASH

0.89

0.91

0.80

0.69

0.71

0.94

0.85

0.69

0.69

0.85

0.70

0.68

0.70

0.67 0.99

Figure 3. Phylogenetic tree for Tama languages (with glottochronological interpretation)

It is important to note that Tama gives the (glottochronologically confirmed) impression of a less chronologically deep family than Nubian; consecutively, its 50-item proto-wordlist is easier to reconstruct due to fewer lexical replacements in the principal branches. Nevertheless, some of the languages have still gone through significant phonetic change, not all of which is easy to trace and reliably reconstruct due to limited (and not always accurately transcribed) amounts of data. Our reconstruction of Proto-Tama depends significantly on the rules laid down in Edgar 1991a, with some additions and corrections offered in Starostin 2014: 314–316.

Comparative 50-item wordlists for Proto-Nubian, Nara, and Proto-Tama. Preliminary notes. Table 4 below does not list the complete data (freely available at the website of the Global Lexicostatistical Database), but only the reconstructed optimal candidates for 50 out of 100 semantically fixed “Swadesh slots” (detailed explanation of semantics for each slot may be found in Kassian et al. 2010) for Proto-Nubian and Proto-Tama; Nara is represented by Higir dialect data from Bender 1968. Numeric indexes that follow individual items reflect their average “stability index” as per Starostin 2010: 113 (ultimately based on the calculations across various genetic lineages in Eurasia, Africa, and Australia as per S. Starostin 2007). Detailed justifications for all the reconstructions may be found in Starostin 2014; in this paper, due to volume considerations, notes on particular reconstructions will be condensed and restricted to non-trivial cases of phonetic or semantic developments, while the majority of the notes section will concentrate on the justification of etymological matches between PN, PT, and Nara. We use the following notation symbols to designate various degrees of cognacy estimation: ! — marks pairs or triplets of reconstructions whose simplified phonetic shapes (“consonantal skeletons”) match each other according to the Dolgopolsky consonantal class criterion. In cases where two or more reconstructions are more or less equiprobable for one taxon (either because there is no certainty about the phonetic interpretation of a given proto-etymon, or because two different etyma are represented in two primary branches of the family), in the table below we only list the variant that is compatible with potential external cognates. 97

George Starostin

+ — marks pairs or triplets of reconstructions that represent highly probable etymological cognates. Although at this point, despite the works of M. L. Bender and C. Rilly, it is probably too early to talk about a definitive set of regular phonetic correspondences for East Sudanic as a whole or Northeast Sudanic (Nubian-Nara-Tama) in particular, we provisionally mark the forms as cognate with each other if the consonantal correspondences between them are trivial (i.e. the consonants are exactly the same) or may be shown to form a part of a recurrent pattern (e.g. Proto-Nubian *n- = Proto-Tama *l-) or may be explained as the result of morphophonological or morphological processes. Precise vocalic correspondences are not expected, but the base root vowels should have a certain degree of proximity, i.e. a match between labial vowels *o and *u is acceptable, while a match between *a and *i is suspicious. Predictably, there will be a serious correlation rate between “automated” and “etymological” cognates, but not a 100ɏ% one (see ‘drink’, ‘egg’, etc.). [] — square brackets mark items that have neither “automated” nor “etymological” parallels in any of the other two groups. ༓ — this special symbol is typically inserted after the initial vowels of VCVC-type stems, typically encountered in Proto-Nubian, more rarely in Nara, and almost never in Proto-Tama. Since the most common type of root structure for all these languages is CVC, this initial vowel, often identical in quality to the main root vowel (cf. in Proto-Nubian: *ubur- ‘ashes’, *awar‘night’, etc.; there are, however, exceptions such as *agul- ‘mouth’, etc.), may be suspected of representing an old fossilized prefix, perhaps the trace of one or more older classifiers or determinants, which justifies its formal deletion in the procedure of external comparison. Alternately, this vowel may have been an integral part of the original root, in which case it would be possible to regard the Proto-Nubian system as more archaic in comparison with Nara and Tama, where it became lost due to purely phonetic processes. Table 4. 50-item wordlist entries for Proto-Nubian, Nara, and Proto-Tama.

98

#

Word

Proto-Nubian

Nara

Proto-Tama

Ɍ1

‘ashes’38

Ɍ2

‘bird’33

*uສbur-ti +

h֐b֐d ?

*or-Ɨo +

*kawir- +!

karba +!

[*wig-]

Ɍ3

‘black’48

[*uສdum-]

[sur-ku]

[*kidi-]

Ɍ4

‘blood’20

[*Ɩສger]

[kito]

[*ya-i]

Ɍ5

‘bone’34

*kƖsi-di +

ketti +

*ki-(Ɨa)-ti +

Ɍ6

‘claw/nail’19

*suƗ-di ?

ši

*Ɨosa- ?

Ɍ7

‘die’13

*di๛- +!

di๛- +!

[*iye] (ਙ Maba?)

Ɍ8

‘dog’16

*bƖl ?

wƖs +!

*wes-i +!

Ɍ9

‘drink’15

*ni๛- +

li๛- +!

*li- +!

10

‘dry’24

[*sow-]

[d֐sՔ-]

[*lab-]

11

‘ear’32

*ulgi ?

tus ?

*(Ɨ=)us ?

12

‘eat’25

*kվl- +!

kਅl- +!

[*Ɨan-]

13

‘egg’47

*kumbu +

[wari]

*kob- +

14

‘eye’4

*miભ +!

[no]

*e༓meભ- +!

15

‘fire’7

*usi-gi +!

ši-ta ?

*us-g +!

16

‘foot’43

[*oy]

[bƖla]

[*war]

17

‘hair’27

[*dՔl-]

[sՔbi]

[*isigi-t]

18

‘hand’11

*Ɩ-si +

a๛(-)t +

*aw-g +

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

#

Word

Proto-Nubian

Nara

Proto-Tama

19

‘head’49

*or +!

[kela]

*ur +!

20

‘hear’45

*giຈ- ?

[wos /Rn./]

*sig- ?

21

‘heart’14

[*ay-]

aສs֐m-a +!

*samil +!

22

‘horn’44

*ƗƖຈi +

[keli]

*Ɨawi-ti +

23

‘I’3

*Ɩ-y +!

a-g +!

[*wa]

24

‘kill’42

[*pay-]

si๛- +!

*siy- +

25

‘leaf’41

[*ulgi]

[tifini]

[*afol]

26

‘louse’17

[*i/ભ/-ti]

ši-ti +

*sin- +

27

‘meat’46

[*kosi]

[nվ๛-]

[*is-]

28

‘moon’18

[*ભun-]

[fe๛ta]

[*ayi-]

29

‘mouth’31

*aສgul +

aສwվlo +

*kul +

30

‘name’10

[*Ɩສri]

a๛da +!

*at +!

31

‘new’23

[*Ք๛r]

[wՔr- ~ wվr-]

[*suw-]

32

‘night’50

*aສwar +!

[k֐š-]

*war +!

33

‘nose’29

[*esi-Ɨ(i)]

[dƖmmo]

[*miຈi]

34a

‘not’30

*m- +!

ma= +!

*m= +!

34b

‘not’30

[*=a-]

[ka=]

[*=to]

35

‘one’21

[*bՔy-]

[doku]

[*ku- ~ *ka-]

36

‘rain’39

*ar- +!

[hala]

*ar- +!

37

‘smoke’36

[*gume-]

[aສsuru]

[*turu-]

38

‘star’40

*waભe +!

wi๛ni +!

*miભ- +

39

‘stone’9

[*kul-]

[ta๛na]

[*kad-]

40

‘sun’35

[*maša-]

[ko๛s]

[*ari]

41

‘tail’26

[*Ք๛b]

[dawa]

[*gawu-t]

42

‘thou’5

*e- ~ *i- +!

֐-Ɨa +!

*i- +!

43

‘tongue’8

*ભalT- +

[haga]

*laભa-t +

44

‘tooth’22

[*ભƖl-]

nihi +

*Ɨeຈ- +

45

‘tree’37

[*pƖr]

[*kel]

[*ga๛n]

46

‘two’2

*awri +!

ari +!

*wari +!

47

‘water’28

[*Ɩs-]

[mba]

[*ka๛l]

48

‘we’1

*a-y +!

a-gga +!

[*wa-i]

49

‘what’12

*nwa- ~ *nwi- +

[nda-]

*num +

50

‘who’6

[*ƗƖ-y]

na- +!

*na +!

Comments on individual entries. 1. ‘Ashes’. PN *u๏bur-ti (Nob. ùbúr-tí, Dng. ubৰur-ti, Knz. ubur-ti; Dil. ՝p-te, Kad., Deb. ՝t-tՄ, Krk. ŵmୗ-t; Bir. ubur-ti; Mid. úfù-dì) = PT *or-Ɩo (Ere. or՝Ɩo, Sun. orƖo ~ oruƖo, Mis. բrƖo). The element *-Ɩ- in the PT form is easily analyzable as a fossilized pluralɏ/ɏcollective suffix (the same morpheme is frequently found as a productive pluralizer as well). Root morpheme *or- is derivable through lenition and contraction from an earlier *owur- ਙ *obur-; for similar cases of possible development of labial *b before labial vowels cf., e.g., PN *u๏bur ‘hole’ = PT *war- ~ *wor- id. (although here PT probably reflects a variant without the prefixal vowel). 99

George Starostin

Nara hլbլd (Bd.), hübet (R.) could also belong here, provided the h- is prothetic and the wordmedial cluster has been simplified (*ubur-ti ਘ *hubir-ti ਘ *hubit); however, this is a complicated scenario that needs additional evidence, so we cannot count this as a bona fide match. 2. ‘Bird’. PN *kawar-ti (ON kawar-t-; Nob. kawar-ti, Dng. kৰawլr-tՄ ~ kৰauլr-tՄ ~ kৰaur-tՄ, Knz. kawir-te; Dil. k՝mil-ti, Krk. kùbùr-àn; Bir. kwՀr-ti; Mid. à෨béd-dí) = Nara kբrba (Bd.), karba (R.). Phonetically compatible under the assumption of a metathesis in Nara (*kawar- ਘ *karb-), which seems typologically plausible and finds no contradictory evidence. PT *wig- ‘bird’ (Tama wìgí-t, Ibi. wígì-t, etc.) is incompatible with these forms and finds no obvious parallels in either PN or Nara. 3. ‘Black’. No parallels detected between any of the three taxa. 4. ‘Blood’. No parallels detected between any of the three taxa. 5. ‘Bone’. PN *kƕsi-di (ON gis-ri-; Nob. gìsì-r, Dng. kլhৰլ෨-d, Knz. ki෨-d; Kad. kwe-dՄ, Deb. kwedu, Krk. kwŢও-d‫ۇ‬, Wal. kw৓-tù; Bir. kìzí-dì; Mid. ‫ۇ‬෨-dí) = Nara kƕ-ti (Bd.), ke-tti (R.) = PT *ki-(Ɩa)-ti (Tama kí-tí, Ere. kìƖà෨-tí, Mis. kլƖլ-t, Ibi. kìƖí-t). In Starostin 2014: 320 it was suggested that the PT paradigm should be reconstructed as *kiƖa-ti (sg.), *kiƖa-k (pl.), with vowel reduction and cluster simplification in Tama proper: *kiƖa-ti ਘ *kiƖ-ti ਘ ki-ti. However, since then I have found no corroborative evidence for the latter development; and considering the relative frequency of -Ɩ- as a plural marker in Tama languages, it is perfectly plausible to reinterpret this as sg. *ki-ti, pl. *ki-Ɩa, with subsequent generalization of the plural form in most Tama languages and reformation of the entire paradigm based on it (with new singulative *ki-Ɩa-ti and new plural *ki-Ɩa-k). This interpretation is in good agreement with Nara data, suggesting a common TamaNara root *ki- or *kƕ-. The parallel with Nubian is slightly more problematic, but intervocalic *-s- on the whole is a fairly unstable consonant in this entire region (cf. lenition and elision in Kenuzi-Dongolawi for this very root, or the regular deletion of *-s- in East Tama languages), so the assumption of a regular development *kƕsi-ti ਘ *kƕ-ti ~ *ki-ti in Tama and Nara, even without additional evidence for the moment, seems fairly realistic. In any case, at least the NaraTama isogloss is unquestionable. 6. ‘Clawɍ/ɍnail’. PN *suƖ-di (Nob. sun-ti, Dng. sun-tլ, Bir. suƖ-di, etc.) and PT *Ɩosa- (Mis. Ɩ՝sբ-t, Sun. Ɩisi-t, etc.; see Starostin 2013: 320–322 for a detailed discussion on the complicated fate of this etymon due to its contamination with ‘tooth’ in the individual languages) may actually be relatable to each other through metathesis, although it is impossible to say which form should be thought of as representing the original consonantal sequence. However, since this kind of metathesis would have to be qualified as an incidental irregularity, it is difficult to count this parallel as a primary piece of etymological or lexicostatistical evidence for the Nubian-Tama relationship. 7. ‘Die’. PN *di෨- (ON di෨-, Knz.-Dng. di෨-, Mid. tí෨-, etc.) is a perfect match with Nara di෨-. No sign of this root appears in Tama, and, in fact, Tama *iye is one of the few entries on the list which, instead, shows close phonetic proximity to Maba languages, cf. Masalit լy, Kibet iy, Kodoi yî෨, Maba ߽y ‘to die’ (Edgar 1991b: 391). Borrowing from Maba is not the only possibility (similar forms are also found on some proto-levels in other East Sudanic languages, e. g. East Nilotic *=yՄ- ‘to die’), but, in any case, it is impossible to relate the Tama equivalent to Nara and/or Nubian. 8. ‘Dog’. Nara wƕs (Rn.: wos) is clearly the same as Tama *wes-i (Ib. wí෨sì, AS wis, Mis. wus; Tama wওí, Ere. wi, Sun. wՄ෨ with regular deletion of intervocalic *-s-). On the possibility of Nubian *bƕl (Dng. wՄl, Dil. bol, Bir. mՄl, Mid. p‫ۇ‬෨l, etc.) being related to Tama and Nara through a non-trivial consonantal correspondence see below (‘ear’); at present, however, we prefer to keep these etyma apart. 100

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

9. ‘Drink’. The obvious parallel is between Nara li෨- and Proto-Tama *li/y/- (Tama li෨, Ere. lլภ-Մ, Sun. liy-Մ, Mis. liy-ei, AS li, etc.). However, both forms also regularly correspond to ProtoNubian *ni- (ON Ɩi-, Dng. ni෨, Dil. di, Bir. ੇi෨, Mid. tì෨-, etc.): Proto-Nubian has no word-initial *l-, which makes the assumption of regular development *n- ਘ *l- perfectly plausible, and furthermore, the correspondence may be strengthened by additional examples, even from the basic lexicon (e. g. Proto-Tama *lasi- ‘long’ = Proto-Nubian *nas- ‘long’). 10. ‘Dry’. No parallels. This is not a stable item in either Nubian or Tama (most subbranches have their own replacements, and precise reconstruction is very difficult). 11. ‘Ear’. This is a complicated case where additional progress might be made in subsequent etymological studies of the Nubian-Nara-Tama family. In Tama, the root is *us- (Tama sg. ú-tù, pl. ú-Ɩ-òƖ, Ere. sg. us-ut, pl. us-՝Ɩ, Mis. sg. us-ut, pl. us-՝Ɩ), but in West Tama, it is preceded by a fossilized prefixal element Ɩ=: Ibi. Ɩùs-í, AS Ɩgus-i. The function of this prefix remains obscure, yet its segmentable status is corroborated quite firmly by additional examples (see ‘head’ and ‘name’ below). The ability of the root *us- to combine with a fossilized prefix reasonably begs the question of whether a different fossilized prefix (with an equally obscure function) could not be present in Nara t(=)us ‘ear’. However, unlike Tama, in Nara no additional evidence has been found so far to suggest the idea of a formerly segmentable t=; in fact, the only other basic lexicon term with initial t- that shows credible outside parallels is Nara tawa ‘belly’ = Proto-Nubian *tu id., without any signs of segmentation. Therefore, this comparison remains highly questionable and unfit as primary evidence for relationship. A different problem is tied to Proto-Nubian *ulgi ‘ear’ (ON ulg-, Dng. ulug, Nob. úkkí, Mid. úlgí, etc.). If we assume that the second syllable is of suffixal origin, the allegedly original root *ul- would correlate with Tama *us- precisely the same way that Proto-Nubian *bƕl ‘dog’ (see above) correlates with Nara wƕs, Tama *wes-i — suggesting a non-trivial correspondence «Proto-Nubian *l : Proto-Tama *s : Nara s» whose most logical phonetic interpretation would be a lateral fricative (*ಙ). This idea seems worthy of further exploration, but for the moment, no further examples of this correspondence are available, and we cannot qualify either of these parallels as primary evidence. 12. ‘Eat’. PN *k՝l- (Dng. kal, Dil. kol, Mid. ‫ۇ‬l-, etc.) is perfectly compatible with Nara kբl(Rn.: kal-). The Tama paradigm is completely different: East Tama *Ɩan- is opposed to West Tama suppletive forms: imperfective *gey- vs. perfective *sin-. None of the three forms has anything to do with the verb in Nara or Tama. 13. ‘Egg’. Nile-Nubian *kumbu (ON kumpu-, Dng. kumbu, Nob. kúmbú෨), one of several equiprobable candidates for PN ‘egg’, is comparable with West Tama *kob- (Ibiri kób-ìt, AS ko෨b-it), assuming cluster simplification in the latter (nasal cluster -mb- does not seem to be encountered in inherited lexicon in these languages). 14. ‘Eye’. Some of the phonetic shapes in Nubian and Tama languages are almost completely identical, cf. Dng. mլssլ vs. AS meše (Barth), etc. However, detailed etymological analysis of the complete datasets, as presented in Starostin 2014: 50–51 (for Nubian) and 328–329 (for Tama), shows that in both of these groups, there is serious evidence for reconstructing a "weak" palatal nasal in root-final position, prone to elision or assimilation — but still preserved in some Nubian languages (ON maੇ-, Nob. má෨ੇ) and, in assimilated form, in such relic plural forms as Ibiri ímn-íèn ਙ *e=meੇ-oƖ. This means basic compatibility for the reconstructed variants as well, allowing us to posit *miੇ- ~ *meੇ- as the optimal equivalent for ‘eye’ on the proto-level. In comparison, Nara no ‘eye’ shows no affinity with these forms, but it makes sense to compare the Nubian and Tama items with the Nara verb minni ‘to flash, shine’ (Rn.): if the 101

George Starostin

etymology is correct, we could be dealing with a Nubian-Tama shared innovation (‘to shine’ ਘ ‘eye’) vs. a possibly retained archaism in Nara. 15. ‘Fire’. Here we have a transparent isogloss between Nubian *usi-gi (cf. especially Bir. uzug and Mid. ússí; such forms as Old Nubian eig-, Nobiin í෨g, etc., probably represent contractions of the original stem) and Tama *us-g (Ibiri ùsùg-í, AS usugu; Tama ú, Ere. ú, etc., are also contracted variants, with regular deletion of intervocalic *-s- in these languages). It is unclear if Nara šita ‘fire’ also belongs here, but it is possible: -ta may be identified as a fossilized plural suffix (cf. Nara n߽෨-ta ‘meat’ [Bd.] vs. the earlier recorded no [Rn.]), and the word-initial vowel could be syncopated in a trisyllabic structure (unless it was a detachable prefix from the very beginning). However, both of these assumptions remain rather speculative. 16. ‘Foot’. No parallels detected between any of the three taxa. 17. ‘Hair’. There is distinct phonetic similarity between Tama *isigi- (Tama ìgí-t, Ere. sigi, Ibiri ìsìƖí-t, AS isiƖi-t) and Nobiin šìgír-tí ‘hair’. However, the latter, even if it is related (with irregular deletion of the word-medial consonant) to Knz. si෨r ‘hair’, is far from the optimal carrier of the basic meaning ‘hair’ in Proto-Nubian. Additionally, its phonetic proximity to various Semitic and Cushitic terms for ‘hair’ (e. g. Arabic šaԻr-, Ethiosemitic *ࡆag։ar, etc.) makes all these items highly questionable as potential genetic markers, so we would not want to consider them as primary evidence. 18. ‘Hand’. All compared forms may be regarded as cognates, although phonetic similarity between them is obscured by the tendency of the original short root to get fused with various suffixes, formerly (or, sometimes, still productively) denoting singulative or plural semantics. For PN, Rilly (2009: 477) reconstructs *es-i ‘hand’, which almost coincides with *ƕsi in Starostin 2014: 54; this form is either preserved with minimal phonetic change (Dil. iši, Mid. ‫ۇ‬ssì), or is subject to regular weakening and deletion of intervocalic *-s- (Dng. լ෨), or becomes further extended with an additional singulative marker (Nob. èddì ਙ *ƕsi-ti). For PT, the suggested reconstruction is *awg (Starostin 2014: 332), which seems to explain the wide variety of reflexes (Tama àù, Ere. auw ~ oՉ, Sun. ao, Mis. wi෨, Ibi. wèí) somewhat better than Rilly's *(a)wei (2009: 477), although ultimately the basic consonantal shape of the reconstruction is the same in both cases, since we regard *aw-g as a transitional fusion of the original root *aw(i)- with a former plural marker. All three forms, including Nara a෨t, can be rather unproblematically traced back to an original root *ay-, or, perhaps, a bisyllabic stem *ayi, with the Proto-NNT paradigm *ayi-ti (sg.) : *ayi-k- (pl.) conforming to the very common so-called "T/K pattern" of East Sudanic (Bryan 1959). As both forms underwent contraction and fusion in daughter branches, only the first one survived in Nara (*ayi-ti ਘ a෨t) and in Nubian, where assimilation with the fricative *-yresulted in fricativization of the old stop (*ayi-ti ਘ *ƕyti ਘ *ƕ(s)si); PT, on the other hand, generalized the plural form, and, in addition, underwent a dissimilative process: *ayi-k- ਘ *awi-kਘ *awg-. This dissimilation is precisely the same as in the case of ‘horn’ (see below) and may be considered regular. Although short monoconsonantal stems beset with idiosyncratic issues of morphological fusion could be regarded as questionable evidence for genetic relationship, in this particular case it is worth noting that the word ‘hand’ also displays very similar patterns of behaviour in other potential East Sudanic languages as well; cf., for instance, the situation in East Nilotic, where the old root *k=ay- (extended by means of the common nominal prefix k=) is still occasionally encountered as a segmentable unit (e. g. sg. n=kऊí-nऊ, pl. n=kàí-k in Camus), but generally tends to fuse, once and for all, with the old singular marker -n (e. g. sg. ऊ=kàn, pl. Ɩऊ=kán in Turkana, etc.; see Vossen 1982: 326 for more data). Similar situations are attested in Surmic, 102

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

Daju, Nyimang, and Temein: all these groups share the common invariant *a(y)-C- ~ *e-C- for the meaning ‘hand’, where -C- is sometimes fused with the old root and sometimes remains as a productive number marker. These external parallels should certainly raise the level of confidence in the correctness of this Nubian-Nara-Tama etymology. 19. ‘Head’. Here we have a clear correlation between Nubian *or (ਘ ON ur-, Nob. ùr, Dng. ur, Mid. òr, etc.) and Tama *ur (ਘ Ibiri úr-ì, AS ur; other Tama languages show an initial Ɩ= which must be some sort of fossilized, possibly pronominal or deictic, prefix — Tama Ɩúr, Mis. Ɩ՝r, etc.; the same prefix is also encountered in ‘name’, see below). Nara kela certainly does not belong here, but has a phonetically perfect and semantically acceptable parallel in Nile Nubian *kel- ‘end, border, tip’ ਘ ON kel-, Dng. kঔ෨l, Knz. ke෨l, suggesting a semantic shift in Nara (‘tip, end’ ਘ ‘head’) with loss of the original root. 20. ‘Hear’. PN is reconstructed based on an isogloss between Kenuzi-Dongolawi *giภ- and such Hill Nubian forms as Dilling ki-er- (ਙ*giภ- with regular devoicing of initial velar and possibly regular loss of intervocalic *-ภ-, although this has not been properly confirmed yet). Phonetic similarity of this stem with PT *sig- (Tama ik-, Sun. ig-, Mis. sug-o) is observable, but the two could be related only under the assumption of a spontaneous metathesis (cf. a similar possible metathesis between a velar and an alveolar consonant, but with reverse direction, in the case of ‘nail’), therefore, we should not accept this evidence as primary. The Nara equivalent is incompatible, but if initial w- is prothetic, the verb wos- may actually contain the same root as Tama *Ɩ=us ‘ear’ (and even tus ‘ear’ in Nara itself, see notes on 11 ’ear’ above). If so, this would be the same type of development as in Old Nubian ulg-ir- ‘to hear’, Nobiin úkké-èr id., a verbalization of PN *ulgi ‘ear’. 21. ‘Heart’. We reconstruct the PT form as *samil based on Mis. samil and forms with regular deletion of *s- in East Tama (Tama àmúl, Ere. բm՝l, Sun. amul). Since triconsonantal roots in East Sudanic languages are a rarity, it is plausible to assume that *-(i)l here is a fossilized suffix, same as the one that also occurs in some other nominal stems (e. g. Tama tó-l-òl ‘belly’ = Sun. to-l id., further perhaps to PN *tu ‘belly’ without this marker) and possibly of the same origin as the Common Nubian determinant *-l. This allows easy comparison with Nara asլma, at least as far as the basic consonantal skeletons are concerned. Some Nubian forms also show a stem with a fossilized determinant (PN *ay-il- ਘ ON ai-l-, Dil. a-l-du, etc.), but the root proper is *ay- (ਘ Nob. áy, Bir. ai-di, etc.), not comparable with Nara and PT. 22. ‘Horn’. PN *Ɩƕภi ਘ Nob. nì෨šì, Dng. nլššլ, Dil. d՝-ti (regular development *Ɩ- ਘ *n- ਘ dand probably the same regular deletion of *-ภ- as in ‘hear’ q.v., with a new productive marker added), Bir. Ɩis-ti, Mid. k‫ۉ‬෨ఁí. We may plausibly interpret the form *Ɩƕภi as a contraction from an older *Ɩƕy-ti, the same way that *ƕsi ‘hand’ is contracted from *ƕy-ti (the only difference being that this time around, the initial voiced consonant caused the word-medial consonant to become voiced as well). PT *Ɩawi-ti is reconstructed based on Tama Ɩó-d (pl. Ɩó-n), Ere. ƖՄ-tլ, Sun. Ɩo෨-tu; with the same dissimilation as in ‘hand’ (*ayi- ਘ *awi-, *Ɩayi- ਘ *Ɩawi-), the original root turns out to be plausibly compatible with pre-PN *Ɩƕy-ti. Nara keli obviously does not belong here and is probably connected instead, through some old suffixal pattern, with kela ‘head, top’ q.v. 23. ‘I’. The basic form of the 1st p. sg. pronoun in most East Sudanic languages is *a-, usually extended with the suffixal component *-n- for the Southern groups and with *-k- for the Northern groups (cf. Bender's division into “En” and “Ek” languages), although some variation does occur. The original variant is most clearly seen in Nara a-g; for Nubian *ƕ-y (Mid. ‫ۉ‬y, ON ay, etc.) it is necessary to assume lenition of the velar stop, but the old root without the nominative singular marker is still preserved in some paradigmatic forms (e. g. Mid. accusative ‫‘ ۉ‬me’, etc.). 103

George Starostin

The biggest puzzle in this arrangement is PT *wa ‘I’, reflected as such in most of the modern dialects. The appearance of an unpredictable w-, impossible to explain away as a prothetic development or an enigmatic emphatic particle, makes the base pronominal paradigm of Tama incompatible on the whole with Nubian, Nara, and East Sudanic in general. On the other hand, even if one considers the typologically rare scenario of a borrowed origin for a basic personal pronoun, the fact remains that no modern areal neighbors of Tama have anything even remotely close to a w-shaped equivalent for ‘I’ — the closest would probably be Kanuri wu, but since there are no other reliable Tama-Kanuri or Tama-Saharan parallels in the basic lexicon, it is preferable to treat this phonetic similarity as coincidental. One possible explanation comes from a comparison of this form with the paradigmatic peculiarities of the 1st p. pronoun in Hill Nubian, where it frequently takes on a labialized shape in the indirect stem (cf. Tagle ୗ෨ ‘I’, gen. ߻-nná, Dilling e, gen. ՝-nՄ, etc.) and in Nara, where a-g ‘I’ is opposed to the genitive/dative stem (w)o. In light of this evidence, Claude Rilly has proposed to reconstruct a direct stem *a-(i) and an indirect stem *o- for Proto-Northeast Sudanic (Rilly 2009: 467), with analogical levelling in Proto-Tama (where languages such as Ibiri also show a separate genitive form ho-n). This does not quite explain why the nominative stem is wa and not the expected *o, but the presence of these labialised indirect forms in Nubian and Nara is hardly accidental. 24. ‘Kill’. Nara si- and PT *siy- (ਘ Mis. siy-՝, Ere. šլ-o; Ibi. ey, Tama ìy-ঔ with regular loss of word-initial s-) present a perfect match. PN *pay- (ਘ Nob. fá෨y-, Mid. pé-, etc.) is not related and finds no clear correlates in the other two groups. 25. ‘Leaf’. Excluded from comparison. Most of the attested equivalents are either derived from the word for ‘ear’ (a very common typological development for the entire area) or are of obscure origin. 26. ‘Louse’. Nara ši-ti ‘louse’ has precisely the same phonetic shape as Ere., Sun. ši-ti id. (cf. also Tama í-tì with regular deletion of initial *s-), although for PT, the original root shape has to be reconstructed as *sin- based on Mis. šin-ti (the plural form is simply šin; special marking of the sg. rather than pl. number for this item is hardly surprising). Cluster simplification in Nara (*sin-ti ਘ ši/t/ti) is neither confirmed nor contradicted by additional examples, but is typologically plausible. It is tempting to find some connection between these forms and PN *iti-di ‘louse’ ਘ Nob., Knz. issi, Dng. լssլ, Dil. iti-d, Mid. ì෨dì, where *-di is a relatively recent marker of the singulative, common in Nubian nominal stems. Theoretically, the remaining root *iti- itself may be an old contraction from *iੇ-ti, but there is no evidence that the initial sibilant could be deleted in PN just as it was (regularly) deleted in Tama; therefore, at the present stage the exact phonetic resemblance between such forms as Dilling iti- and Tama ítì should rather be deemed a coincidence. 27. ‘Meat’. No parallels detected between any of the three taxa. 28. ‘Moon’. No parallels detected between any of the three taxa. 29. ‘Mouth’. The PN form is reconstructed rather securely as *agul- (Knz., Dng. agil, Dil. ՝gul, Bir. agal, Mid. á෨l with contraction; Nob. ág with seemingly regular deletion of stemfinal *-l). In Tama, the situation is more complicated: here, Eastern *kul (Tama kùl, Ere., Sun., Mis. kul) seems poorly compatible with such Western forms as Ibi. úlì ~ awal, AS o෨l ~ awl. However, in Starostin 2014: 345 it was argued that both variants may still be reconciled under the assumption of two morphological variants in PT — simple *kul- and its prefixal counterpart *V=kul-, only the latter of which was preserved in the Western branch (with vocalic reduction and consonantal lenition: *V=kul- ਘ *awl-). This solution remains hard to prove, but is nevertheless realistic (monovocalic fossilized prefixes were at least as likely to exist in PT as they were in PN), and makes the final reconstruction even more compatible with Nubian 104

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

data, since PT *V=kul- may indeed have contained the very same prefix that is also preserved in PN *a๏gul-. For Nara, it is essential to pay attention to the dialectal forms listed in Rilly 2009: 178: Higir awlo, Mogoreeb àlkò, Koyta aulo, Saantoorta agura. Although we do not have enough dialectal evidence to confirm this as part of a regular pattern, the only plausible way to explain the divergence is to set up the protoform *agulo or *agula, best preserved in Saantoorta (with a presumably regular l ਘ r development) but undergoing reduction ਘ *aglo in the other dialects, with a subsequent metathesis in Mogoreeb and lenition ਘ *aՉlo ਘ *awlo in the other two dialects. This makes the form perfectly compatible with Nubian and Tama data. 30. ‘Name’. Nara a෨d-a is obviously compatible with Proto-West Tama *a෨t (Ibi. á෨t, AS a෨t); Proto-East Tama *Ɩa෨t (Ere., Mis. Ɩa෨t, Tama Ɩát, Sun. Ɩat) probably belongs here as well, provided that initial Ɩ= may be viewed here as the same fossilized prefix that was already encountered above in ‘head’. Rilly (2009: 486) suggests that both of these items are further compatible with PN *ƕ๏ri, but there are too many unresolved problems with this comparison: even if the common NaraTama root is to be reconstructed as *a෨d-, there is no strong evidence that PNNT *-d- could yield PN *-r- in intervocalic position. Provisionally, we treat these etyma as different items. 31. ‘New’. No convincing parallels. Phonetic similarity is detected between PN *Մ෨r (Knz. e෨r, Dng. Մ෨r, Dil. er, Bir. e෨r, etc.; replaced by a substrate element in ON miri-, Nob. mírí෨) and Nara wor-ko (Rn.), w՝r-ku (Bd.; also listed as wՄr- with a front vowel in Bender 1971: 268), but even if Nara w- is prothetic (of which there is no certainty), the significant difference in vocalism quality remains unexplained, so we provisionally reject this pair as a potential etymological match. 32. ‘Night’. A transparent isogloss between PN *a๏war (ON oyar-, Nob. áwá; Mid. ò෨d; replaced in other branches by different innovations) and PT *war (Tama wàr, Ere. wa෨r, Sun. war-dՄ, Mis. war). In Nara, the old word was replaced by kiše ~ kis-ne (Rn.), kլši-Ɩa (Bd.), bearing some resemblance to West Tama forms: Ibi. íšè, AS i෨še. The latter, however, are transparent borrowings from nearby Maba (íšè ‘night’), and since Maba-Nara contacts are geographically impossible, it is probably better to interpret the partial Nara – West Tama similarity as due to chance. 33. ‘Nose’. No parallels detected between any of the three taxa. 34. ‘Not’. All three taxa present evidence for at least two different morphemes that could mark indicative negation on the proto-level, but only one of them is compatible: PN *m-, functioning as part of the negative verbal stem *mun- ~ *min- ‘not (to be)’ in Nile-Nubian and Hill Nubian and as a negative suffix in Birgid = Nara ma (negation marker in perfective forms) = PT *m- (basic negative prefix in West Tama, also encountered as a prefix in certain adjectival stems in East Tama, cf. Sun. áƖgé ‘a lot’ vs. m=aƖge ‘a little’). The others are different in all three taxa — PN monovocalic suffix *=a-, fully preserved only in Midob but looking quite archaic in nature; Nara ka (negation marker in imperfective forms); and West Tama suffix *-to. It is worth noting, however, that out of all East Sudanic languages, the only other family that shows signs of a proto-level *m-shaped negative marker is Nilotic, so it is justified to regard this isogloss as significant. 35. ‘One’. No direct parallels detected between any of the three taxa. However, PN *bՄy- ~ *bՄy-ir ‘one’ (ON we-l- ~ we-r-, Nob. wè෨ ~ wè෨-l ~ wè෨-r, Knz. we෨-r, Dng. wՄ෨-r, Bir. me෨-l-ug, Mid. pè෨-r; cf. also Mid. pè෨ ‘somebody’) is well compatible, phonetically and semantically, with Nara bi-ko (Rn.), bi෨-k (Bd.) ‘other’. Nara doku and PT *kV- ‘one’ could only be related if do- in Nara were shown to be a prefixal component, which currently seems impossible. 36. ‘Rain’. PN *ar- (ON aru-, Nob. áwwí, Dng. aru, Dil. are, Bir. a෨le, Mid. ár-) is clearly the same root as East Tama *ar (Tama àೝ, Ere., Mis. aೝ, Sun. ar). Whether Nara hala can belong here 105

George Starostin

as well is debatable: Rilly (2009: 501) lists the dialectal form hàrà from Saantoorta, but this seems to be the same dialectal development *l ਘ r as in ‘mouth’ (see above), and there are no other known cases of Nara l corresponding to PN and PT *r. Initial h- also presents a problem; according to Rilly (2009: 302), it is an irregular reflex of PNNT *k-, which seems to be well confirmed by several examples, so the overall correspondence for ‘rain’ in Nubian would be something like *kal- rather than *ar-. 37. ‘Smoke’. No direct parallels detected between any of the three taxa. However, it is permissible to compare PT *turu- ‘smoke’ (preserved in Tama túrú-t and possibly in Ibi. dùlód-à, AS dulud-a, although correspondences are somewhat problematic) directly with Midob tùrùd ‘fog, mist’ (glossed this way in Werner 1993: 135, but mistakenly glossed as ‘smoke’ in Rilly 2009: 459). 38. ‘Star’. PN *waੇ- is best preserved in Birgid (wa෨ੇ-di) and, with various contractions and assimilations, is also found in Hill Nubian (Kad. won՝-ntu, Deb. won-du-nu), Midob (òੇè-dì) and Nile-Nubian *wiੇ-di ਙ *waੇ-i-di (ON wiੇ़-, Nob. wìnภì, Knz. wissi, Dng. wլssլ). All these forms are naturally compatible with Nara wini (Rn.) ‘star’ (Bender quotes the form hƉ=wŢnŢ, where the first component is possibly the adjectival root ‘round’, cf. hu-e (Rn.) ‘to be round’). More problematic is the relationship of these forms to PT *miੇ- ‘star’ (Tama míੇì-t, Ere. miƖi-t, Sun. miੇ-a; Ibi. ੇìƖí-t, AS Ɩin-ti with assimilation *m- ਘ ੇ- due to the influence of the palatal nasal in word-medial position). On one hand, the most straightforward correspondence for this is the Nara verb minni- (Rn.) ‘to shine’. On the other hand, Tama data collected by Edgar shows a near-complete lack of native roots with the general structure *wVN-, meaning that assimilation *wiੇ- ਘ *miੇ- would be perfectly natural in this protolanguage. Additionally, both Nara wini and PT *miੇ- display the same interesting polysemy ‘starɏ/ɏfly (n.)’ (not shared, however, by Nubian). In light of these observations, PT *miੇ- is judged as formally compatible with both PN and Nara and may be used as evidence for descent from the same common ancestral form (presumably *waੇ-, as in PN). 39. ‘Stone’. No direct parallels detected between any of the three taxa. ON kit, Nob. kìd ‘stone’ are formally comparable with PT *kad- (Mis. kբt, Ere. kբdda, Sun. kada), but the Nubian word is restricted to the Nobiin branch of Nile-Nubian, whereas the optimal distributional candidate for PN ‘stone’ is *kul-, found in Kenuzi-Dongolawi, Birgid, and Midob; additionally, vocalic discrepancies are too severe here to make the Nobiin – Tama match a valid etymology. 40. ‘Sun’. No parallels detected between any of the three taxa. 41. ‘Tail’. No parallels detected between any of the three taxa. 42. ‘Thou’. The 2nd p. pronoun, unlike the 1st p., matches nicely across all three families, allowing to reconstruct *i- as the simple root morpheme for PNNT (inherited from Common East Sudanic). In Nubian, *i- shifts to *e- in Birgid and in Kenuzi-Dongolawi (and then further to *a- in Hill Nubian), but the original articulation is still well preserved in Nobiin and Midob. The oblique (genitive) stem *i-n- is also common for PN and PT (Rilly 2009: 519). 43. ‘Tongue’. Our reconstruction *ੇalT- for PN is significantly different from BechhausGerst's *ภardi, but much closer to Rilly's *Ɩal. The word-initial phoneme here is reflected as *nin Nile-Nubian (Nob. nàr, Knz. ned, Dng. nՄd), as ภ- in most Hill Nubian languages (Dil. ภal-e, Kad. ภal-do, Karko ภâr-ও, etc.), as n- in Birgid (nat-ti) and as k- (ਙ *Ɩ-) in Midob (kàd-ì ~ kàd-àƖì); Bechhaus-Gerst interprets it as *ภ-, but this in no way explains the pervasive nasal reflexes. On the other hand, *Ɩ- is also excluded, since it is supposed to be preserved, not palatalized, in Hill Nubian. Based on the phonetic qualities of the different reflexes (coronalɏ/ɏvelar nasals vs. palatal affricates), the optimal choice for reconstruction here is palatal *ੇ-, and it seems to have been preserved in at least one Hill Nubian language: cf. Debri ੇal-do from Robin Thelwall's field data (unless this is a misprint instead of *jaldo). 106

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

Word-medially, we agree with Rilly that *-l- rather than *-r- should be reconstructed, since *-r- is a highly stable phoneme in Nubian; however, a simple reconstruction of the root *ੇal- (with a complex singulative correlate *ੇal-di) does not suffice, since reflexes in individual languages are widely different from those of the similar stem *ੇil-di ‘tooth’ (see below). Already in PN, the root itself must have contained a cluster (*ੇalt- ~ *ੇald-) or have been bisyllabic (*ੇalaT-), which explains the loss of resonant articulation in Birgid (nat-ti ਙ *ੇalT-ti) and word-final -r / -d in Nile Nubian (which usually appears in original *CVCV-ti type structures, cf. ‘bone’ above). This turns out to be significant on the level of external comparison, when the Nubian word for ‘tongue’ is compared with forms in Tama languages: Tama àr(r)à-t, Ere. là෨t, Sun. lat, Mis. le෨t, Ibi. lঔ෨d (also la෨t and laed in alternate sources), AS let. This item is reconstructed as PT *la෨t by Rilly, but the reconstruction does not explain the front vowel in Mis. and Ibi., not to mention the odd diphthong -ae- in H. Barth's and P. Doornbos' transcriptions of West Tama material. In Starostin 2014: 360, it is argued that the discrepancies in vocalism and the diphthong-containing transcriptions can only be explained if *la෨t is traced back to an older *laCat, where *-C- is a weak consonant with palatalizing effect, most likely *-ੇ- (since glides like -y-, -w- do not regularly elide in intervocalic position). The resulting reconstructions, PN *ੇalT- (*ੇalat- ?) and PT *laੇat, are compatible under a simple metathesis scenario; the actual metathesis must have happened in Tama, as is indirectly hinted at by external data from other East Sudanic languages (cf. Nyimang Ɩìldì, etc.). Admittedly, this etymology rests rather heavily on intricacies of internal reconstructions in both Nubian and Tama, as well as upon assumption of irregular metathesis; however, irregularities and non-trivial developments are fairly typical of the word ‘tongue’ in numerous families all over the world. In any case, PN and PT are clearly more compatible with each other than Nara haga, an isolated form with no external parallels. 44. ‘Tooth’. A common feature of all three compared taxa is that they all share a nasal as the first consonant in the word for ‘tooth’: PN *ੇƕl- (Knz. nel, Dng. nՄl, Bir. ੇil-di; Hill Nubian *ภil- ਘ Dil. ภil-i, Kad. ภլl-du, etc.; Mid. k‫ۇ‬d-dì ਙ *Ɩƕl-di; Nob. nì෨d ਙ *ੇil-d), Nara nihi, PT *Ɩes- or *Ɩeภ- (Ere. ੇisi-t, Sun. ੇísì-t, Mis. ƖՄsi-t; in Starostin 2014: 361, these forms are further compared with Ibi. ƖóƖì-t, AS Ɩoੇi-t under a complex scenario of development from PT *Ɩeภ-). It seems, however, impossible to trace all three forms back to the same common source. There are two potential pathways here: (a) if the PT form is to be reconstructed as *Ɩes-, one could think of a common origin with PN *ੇƕl-, showing the same hypothetical correspondence that had already been suggested earlier with ‘dog’ and ‘ear’, i.e. going back to PNNT *Ɩeಙ-; (b) since Nara nihi must go back to *niKi with an intervocalic velar stop, it might be compared with PT *Ɩeภ- under the assumption of palatalization in PT (*Ɩegi ਘ *Ɩeภi); unfortunately, there are currently no additional examples to support such an assumption. Curiously, external data from other East Sudanic languages provides evidence for both solutions: velar-medial forms are attested in Surmic (Southwest Surmic *ੇլgլ-t, Southeast Surmic *ੇigi), Jebel (*ੇigi), and Daju (*ੇiՉi) languages, whereas the lateral-medial form is seen in Nyimang (*Ɩil-; see tables in Starostin 2014: 722–729). For the sake of uniformity, since we have not officially endorsed the correspondence of PN *l to PT *s yet, it is more prudent to go with the less radical variant (b) for the moment. Alternately, one could consider all three forms unrelated, but in the overall context of the situation, accidental similarity on all sides is hardly likely. 45. ‘Tree’. For PN, C. Rilly (2009: 423) reconstructs *ko෨r-i ‘tree’ vs. *ber- ‘wood’; in Starostin 2014: 82, these reconstructions are amended to *koy/i/d and *pƕr respectively, and it is also pointed out that the latter word sometimes displays the polysemy ‘treeɏ/ɏwood’ (e. g. in 107

George Starostin

Hill Nubian or in old lexical materials on Kenuzi-Dongolawi) and should probably be projected in the meaning ‘tree’ onto the PN level, whereas the original meaning of *koy/i/d may have been more narrow (e. g. = ‘Ziziphus spina-christi’ in Dng.). Recent innovation is also perceived in Nara, where Bender's kel contrasts with tûm (Rilly's spelling) ‘wood’, a word that is glossed as tüm ‘tree, wood’ in the old dictionary of Reinisch and is typologically likely to represent the older equivalent for ‘tree’. Even in Tama, the protoform *gan ‘tree’ seems to be connected with the verbal root ge- ~ gi- ‘to rise, to stand up’ (diachronically, ‘to stand up, to be vertical’ is a well-known possible source for ‘tree’ as ‘vertically planted wood’, e. g. Chinese shù) and is probably secondary next to the old root *kiੇ- ‘wood’. In any case, none of these forms match with each other, although some (Nara tûm and Tama *kiੇ-, in particular) may have interesting parallels in other branches of East Sudanic. 46. ‘Two’. Here, all the forms are compatible. In the case of Nubian, the most archaic form is found in Haraza Nubian auri-yah (Bell 1975: 84), which explains the non-trivial correspondence of Nile-Nubian *-ww- (ON uwo-, Nob. úwwó, Knz. owwi, Dng. owwլ) to Hill Nubian *-r(Dil. ore-n, Kad. ՝rro, Deb. ՝rr՝, Karko Ŋrè). In Nara ari-ga, the labial element is missing (probably due to cluster simplification), but in PT *wari (Tama wárì, Ere. wàrrí, Sun. warri, Mis. woೝa, Ibi. wàrí, AS werre) it is found in word-initial position, suggesting metathesis: *awri ਘ *wari. 47. ‘Water’. No direct parallels detected between any of the three taxa. PT *kaӃl (Tama, Ere. káӃl, Mis. qal, Ibi. kàr-áƾ, AS kar-aƾ) is etymologically comparable with Nara kalli (Rn.), kƕlli (Bd.) ‘cold’, since the semantic shift from ‘cold’ to ‘water’ is typologically plausible. External data from other East Sudanic languages suggest that Nara mba might be the most archaic form here (cf. Surmic *maӃm ~ *maw, Daju *ama ~ *uma, etc.), but comparable forms are not attested in either Nubian or Tama. The only possible exception is Old Nubian aman-, Nobiin ámán ‘water, river, Nile’; however, distributionwise this word belongs to the same layer of «Para-Nobiin substrate» as many other forms without Common Nubian etymologies, and cannot be reliably traced back to Proto-Nubian, let alone etymologically compared with Nara mba. 48. ‘We’. The PN reconstruction *a-y is justified in detail in Starostin 2014: 86–90, where it is also argued that the clusivity opposition in certain Nubian languages (Midob, Old Nubian) is secondary and cannot be traced back to the PN level. It is quite tempting to put forward a plausible scenario in which PN *ƕ-y ‘I’ / *a-y ‘we’ would directly correlate with Nara a-g ‘I’ / a-gga ‘we’ (e. g. PNNT *ag ਘ *aћ ਘ *ƕy, but PNNT *aga ਘ *aћa ਘ *ay without vocalic change), but it is hardly possible to back it with additional evidence. In any case, the pronouns here quite clearly match each other on the root level. As for Tama, *wa-yi seems to be derived from *wa ‘I’ (sg.), meaning that there are the same problems with trying to relate it to Nubian-Nara *aas with the singular correlate (see above). 49. ‘What’. In Nubian, there are two main groups of forms with the meaning of ‘what?’: one beginning with m- (in Nile-Nubian: Old Nubian mi-, Nob. mì-n, Knz. mi-n, Dng. mլ-n-) and one beginning with n- (Dil. na, Kad. na-, Bir. na-ta, Mid. nèӃ-, etc.). Rilly regards them as etymologically distinct, reconstructing *mi-n and *naӃ ~ *neӃ respectively. However, the second reconstruction is insecure, considering that the regular reflex of *n- in Hill Nubian languages is d-, and in Midob it is t- (see ‘drink’ above). In Starostin 2014: 91, it is argued that the preservation of *n- in this pronoun can only be due to some outstanding circumstances, and that under these circumstances the two forms may be traced back to a common protoform, provisionally given as *nWV-, where *-W- is an original labial glide or nasal. Such a form in itself could only be contracted from an earlier *nVwV- or *nVmV-, and this, in turn, makes it into an excellent match with Tama nùmú-, Ere. numэ-, Sun. nomo-, Mis. nùmá-, Ibi. nբmբ, AS nѓm- ‘what’ ਙ PT *num. Whether Nara nda- belongs here as well is far more debatable. 108

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

50. ‘Who’. Nara na and PT *na (Tama na-yѓ, Sun., Mis. na, Ibi. nà-n, AS naӃ-) obviously match with each other. PN *Ɩƕ-y is reconstructed with an initial velar nasal (this is most clearly seen in the Mid. reflex k‫ۇ‬Ӄ-), which makes it hard to relate this root at least to PT *na, since initial *Ɩ- is quite frequent in PT, and there are no obvious factors here that would explain the fronting *Ɩ- ਘ *n- in PT. For now, we only count the Naraɏ/ɏTama match as etymologically significant.

Conclusions Taking into consideration the importance of stratifying etymological and lexicostatistical matches to reflect their proportional representation across more and less stable layers of the basic lexicon, we separate the 50-item wordlist into a more stable and a less stable (on the average) half, based on the respective stability indexes of each item (see Table 1); Table 5 below summarizes the pairwise matchings in both halves found between all three taxa. Note that only the items that are marked with a + sign (i.e. credible etymological matches) in Table 1 are included in the calculations. Table 5. Number of lexicostatistical matches between Nubian, Nara, and Tama. Nara Nubian Nara

Tama

Items 1–25

Items 26–50

Overall

Items 1–25

Items 26–50

Overall

8

5

13

8

10

18

10

5

15

—

The following conclusions may be drawn from the table itself, as well as from further analysis of some of the individual matches concealed behind the numbers. 1. The highest number of matches is between PN and PT: 18/50 = 36ɏ%. This is much higher than the 20ɏ% figure given in Starostin 2014: 677, where only the automatically detected pseudo-cognates were counted. However, both of these figures are statistically significant (based on empiric evidence from comparing multiple random pairs of unrelated languages, we accept a threshold of 5-6 matches out of 50 to rule out accidental similarity), and the same is true for the other two pairs as well 11. 2. Using Indo-European as a comparative benchmark, we may select, e.g., Old Indian as the approximate chronological equivalent of PN, and Proto-Germanic or Latin as the approximate chronological equivalent for the somewhat younger PT. In this case, the figure of 36ɏ% will be significantly lower than the corresponding numbers for Sanskrit vs. Latin (57ɏ%) or Sanskrit vs. Germanic (56ɏ%)12. This means that if Nubian and Tama languages are genetically related, their common ancestor must have probably been older than Proto-Indo-European (e.g., Sergei Starostin's recalibrated glottochronological formula in this case yields a dating of approximately 4700 BC). Had this number of parallels been seriously lower (e.g. in the range of 8–10 matches out of 50), it would have made sense to apply the same kind of permutation test as performed in, e.g., Kassian, Zhivlov, Starostin 2015, in order to establish statistical significance on a formally rigorous basis. With this amount of evidence, however, it hardly seems worth the bother. 12 These numbers are based on preliminary 50-item wordlists, reconstructed or collected for various small language groups of Eurasia and publicly available on the Global Lexicostatistical Database website: http://starling.rinet.ru/new100/eurasia.xls. 11

109

George Starostin

3. The overall numeric correlations between Nubian, Nara, and Tama give no definitive answer to the question of the internal structure of their phylogenetic tree. Although 18 matches between Nubian and Tama is a significantly higher number than 13 matches between Nubian and Nara, this is primarily explicable by the fact that Nara is a modern language, while PT is a reconstruction that pushes us back about 2000 years, so that, even if all three branches split from their common source at the same time, we would naturally expect Nara to show less in common with PN and PT than both of them have in common with each other. At the moment, all three taxa appear to be more or less equidistant; future studies will let us understand better if there are any truly decisive shared innovations in between any two out of three branches of the family. 4. The distribution of cognates across the various stability groups correlates very well with our expectations (more cognates in the more stable part, fewer cognates in the less stable part) in the case of Nubian-Nara (8 against 5) and Nara-Tama (10 against 5), but not in the case of Nubian-Tama (8 against 10) — due to such shared items as ‘ashes’, ‘egg’, ‘head’, ‘horn’, ‘night’, ‘rain’ that have no parallels in Nara. Although the discrepancy is not altogether tragic, it does suggest that at least a few of these matches might ultimately be areal rather than genetic in origin: for instance, the word *ar- for ‘rain / sky’ has a rather wide areal distribution and could represent a cultural Wanderwort rather than an inherited term. 5. On the other hand, it is notable that cognates are encountered across all semantic and functional classes of words — including body part terms, verbs, personal and interrogative pronouns, and even the negation marker. Combined with additional etymologies and occasional grammatical isoglosses that were previously published in J. Greenberg's, M. L. Bender's, and C. Rilly's works, this makes the scenario of common descent from a Proto-Nubian-NaraTama ancestor far more plausible than the opposite scenario of areal diffusion. It must be stressed that, although the absolute majority of lexical parallels commented upon in this paper had previously been suggested by at least one or more of the abovementioned authors, the sort of etymological / lexicostatistical refining conducted here — where only direct semantic matches are taken into consideration, and each candidate for comparison is vetted on the issue of reconstructibility for proto-status, to reduce the risk of accidental matches — has been performed for the first time. In our opinion, the Nubian-Nara-Tama connection passes this restrictive test with flying colors. On the other hand, the question of whether it makes practical sense to try to produce a large etymological corpus solely for PNNT without taking into consideration the data from other East Sudanic languages is still open: as we have seen, NNT is a fairly deep family, probably older than Indo-European by at least one millennium, and this, combined with the relative scarceness of data on Nara and Tama as well as several millennia of areal interference, means that positive identification of large numbers of cognates is going to be a very hard task without assessing the hypothesis in an even larger context. The next logical step for such an assessment would be to investigate the position of Nyimang, a minor language group of Kordofan whose ties to NNT seem to be counterbalanced with its ties to the neighboring Temein languages; we plan to cover this issue in our next publication on East Sudanic lexicostatistics.

Abbreviations AS — Abu Sharib; Bd. — Bender 1968; Bir. — Birgid; Deb. — Debri; Dil. — Dilling; Dng. — Dongolawi; Ere. — Erenga; Ibi. — Ibiri; Kad. — Kadaru; Knz. — Kenuzi; Krk. — Karko; Mid. — Midob; Mis. — Miisiirii; Nob. — Nobiin; ON — Old Nubian; PN — Proto-Nubian; PNNT — Proto-Nubian-Nara-Tama; PT — Proto-Tama; Rn. — Reinisch 1874; Sun. — Sungor; Wal. — Wali. 110

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

References Abushush, Dawd, Richard J. Hayward. 2002. Nara. Journal of the International Phonetic Association 32(2): 249–255. Armbruster, Charles H. 1965. Dongolese Nubian: A Lexicon. Cambridge University Press. Bechhaus-Gerst, Marianne. 1985. Sprachliche und historische Rekonstruktionen im Bereich des Nubischen unter besonderer Berücksichtigung des Nilnubischen. Sprache und Geschichte in Afrika 6(1984/5): 7–134. Bechhaus-Gerst, Marianne. 1989. “Nile-Nubian” reconsidered. In: M. Lionel Bender (ed.) Topics in Nilo-Saharan Linguistics: 85–96. Hamburg: Helmut Buske Verlag. Bechhaus-Gerst, Marianne. 1996. Sprachwandel durch Sprachkontakt am Beispiel des Nubischen im Niltal: Möglichkeiten und Grenzen einer diachronen Soziolinguistik. Köln: Rüdiger Köppe Verlag. Bechhaus-Gerst, Marianne. 2011. The (Hi)story of Nobiin — 1000 Years of Language Change. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Bell, Herman. 1970. The Phonology of Nobiin Nubian. African Language Review 9: 115–139. Bell, Herman. 1975. Documentary evidence on the Haraza Nubian language. Sudan Notes And Records 56: 1–35. Bender, Lionel M. 1968. Analysis of a Barya wordlist. Anthropological Linguistics 10(9): 1–24. Bender, Lionel M. 1971. The Languages of Ethiopia: A New Lexicostatistic Classification and Some Problems of Diffusion. Anthropological Linguistics 13(5): 165–288. Bender, Lionel M. 1997. The Nilo-Saharan Languages: A Comparative Essay. München – Newcastle: LINCOM Europa. Bender, Lionel M. 2005. The East Sudanic Languages: Lexicon and Phonology. Southern Illinois University: SIU Printing/Duplicating. Blench, Roger. 2011. Can Sino-Tibetan and Austroasiatic help us understand the evolution of Niger-Congo noun classes? Ms. (presentation given at the 41st CALL, Leiden, August 29–31, 2011). Browne, Gerald M. 1996. Old Nubian Dictionary. Leuven: Peeters. Browne, Gerald M. 2002. A Grammar of Old Nubian. Münich: LINCOM. Bryan, Margaret A. 1959. The T-K Languages. A New Substratum. Africa: Journal of the International African Institute 29(1): 1-21. Burlak, S. A., S. A. Starostin. 2005. Sravnitel'no-istoricheskoje jazykoznanije [Comparative-Historical Linguistics]. Moscow: Academia. Edgar, John T. 1990. Tama Group Lexicon. Ms. Edgar, John T. 1991a. First Steps Toward Proto-Tama. In: M. Lionel Bender (ed.). Proceedings of the 4th Nilo-Saharan Conference. Bayreuth, Aug. 30 – Sep. 2, 1989: 111–131. Hamburg: Helmut Buske Verlag. Edgar, John T. 1991b. Maba-Group Lexicon. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag. Ehret, Christopher. 2001. A Historical-Comparative Reconstruction of Nilo-Saharan. Köln: Rüdiger Köppe Verlag. Fleming, Harold. 1983. Kuliak External Relationships: Step One. In: R. Voßen & M. Bechhaus-Gerst (eds.). Nilotic Studies: 423–478. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag. Greenberg, Joseph H. 1966. The Languages of Africa. Bloomington, Indiana University; Mouton & Co., The Hague. Hammarström, Harald, Robert Forkel, Martin Haspelmath. 2017. Glottolog 3.0. Jena: Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History. Available online at http://glottolog.org; accessed on 2017-05-21. Hayward, Richard J. 2000. Observations on Tone in the Higir Dialect of Nara. In: R. Vossen, A. Mietzner, A. Meissner (eds.). "Mehr als nur Worte...": Afrikanistische Beiträge zum 65. Geburtstag von Franz Rottland: 247–267. Köln: Rüdiger Köppe Verlag. Heusing, Gerald. 2004. Die südlichen Lwoo-Sprachen. Beschreibung, Vergleich und Rekonstruktion. Köln: Rüdiger Köppe Verlag. Hofmann, Inge. 1986. Nubisches Wörterverzeichnis: Nubisch-deutsches und deutsch-nubisches Wörterverzeichnis nach dem Kenzi-Material des Samuêl Alî Hisên (1863-1927). Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag. Jabr el Dar, Khaliifa. 2006. Towards a general orthography of the Ajang languages. In: Al-Amin Abu-Manga, Leoma Gilley, & Anne Storch (eds.). Insights into Nilo-Saharan Language, History and Culture: 183–198. Köln: Rüdiger Köppe Verlag. Jakobi, Angelika. 2006. The loss of syllable-final proto-Nubian consonants. In: Al-Amin Abu-Manga, Leoma Gilley, & Anne Storch (eds.). Insights into Nilo-Saharan Language, History and Culture: 215–228. Köln: Rüdiger Köppe Verlag. Kassian, Alexei. 2015. Towards a Formal Genealogical Classification of the Lezgian Languages (North Caucasus): Testing Various Phylogenetic Methods on Lexical Data. PLoS ONE 10(2): e0116950 (https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0116950). 111

George Starostin

Kassian, Alexei, George Starostin, Anna Dybo, Vasily Chernov. 2010. The Swadesh wordlist: an attempt at semantic specification. Journal of Language Relationship 4: 46–89. Kassian, Alexei, Mikhail Zhivlov, George Starostin. 2015. Proto-Indo-European-Uralic Comparison from the Probabilistic Point of View. Journal of Indo-European Studies 43: 60–80. Kauczor, P. D. 1920. Die Bergnubische Sprache (Dialekt von Gebel Delen). Wien: Alfred Hölder. Khalil, Mokhtar M. 1996. Wörterbuch der nubischen Sprache (Fadidja/Ma‫ܒ‬as Dialekt). Warszawa: Piotr O. Scholz. Krell, Amy. 2012. Rapid Appraisal Sociolinguistic Survey Among Ama, Karko, and Wali Language Groups (Southern Kordofan, Sudan). SIL International. Lepsius, Carl Richard. 1880. Nubische Grammatik. Mit einer Einleitung über die Völker und Sprachen Afrikas. Berlin: W. Hertz. Lukas, Johannes. 1933. Beiträge zur Kenntnis der Sprachen von Wadai. Journal de la Société des Africanistes 3(1): 25–55. Lukas, Johannes. 1938. Die Sprache der Sungor in Wadai (Aus Nachtigals Nachlaß). Ausland Hochschule Mitteilungen 41(3): 171–246. MacMichael, H. A. 1920. Darfur Linguistics. Sudan Notes and Records 3(3): 197–216. Massenbach, Gertrud von. 1962. Nubische Texte im Dialekt der Kunuzi und der Dongolawi, mit Glossar. Wiesbaden: Deutsche Morgenländische Gesellschaft. Meinhof, Carl. 1918. Sprachstudien im egyptischen Sudan. 33. Dulman. 34. Garko. 36. Kadero. 37. Koldegi. 38. Zur Formenlehre der nubischen Dialekte. 39. Vergleichendes Wörterverzeichnis: Deutsch-Nubisch. 40. Kenuzi. 41. Dongola. 42. Fadidja. 43. Mahas. 44. Bedauye. Zeitschrift für Kolonialsprachen IX: 43–64, 89–117, 167–204, 226–255. Reinisch, Leo. 1874. Die Barea-Sprache. Grammatik, Text und Wörterbuch. Nach den handschriftlichen Materialien von Werner Munzinger Pascha. Wien: Wilhelm Braumüller. Rilly, Claude. 2005. The Classification of Nara Language. Journal of Erithrean Studies 4: 1–27. Rilly, Claude. 2009. Le Méroïtique et sa famille linguistique. Louvain – Paris – Dudley, MA: Peeters. Starostin, George. 2010. Preliminary lexicostatistics as a basis for language classification: a new approach. Journal of Language Relationship 3: 79–117. Starostin, George. 2016. From wordlists to proto-wordlists: reconstruction as ‘optimal selection’. In: K. Pozdniakov (ed.). Comparatisme et reconstruction: tendances actuelles. Faits de Langues 47: 177–200. Berne: Peter Lang. Starostin, Georgij. 2013. Jazyki Afriki. Opyt postrojenija leksikostatisticheskoj klassifikacii. Tom I: Metodologija. Kojsanskije jazyki [Languages of Africa. An attempt at a lexicostatistical classification. Volume I: Methodology. Khoisan languages]. Moscow: Jazyki slav’anskoj kul’tury. Starostin, Georgij. 2014. Jazyki Afriki. Opyt postrojenija leksikostatisticheskoj klassifikacii. Tom II: Vostochnosudanskije jazyki [Languages of Africa. An attempt at a lexicostatistical classification. Volume II: East Sudanic languages]. Moscow: Jazyki slav'anskoj kul'tury. Starostin, Sergei. 2000. Comparative-historical Linguistics and Lexicostatistics. In: C. Renfrew, A. MacMahon, L. Trask (eds.). Time Depth In Historical Linguistics: 223–259. McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research, Oxford Publishing Press. Starostin, Sergei. 2007. Opredelenije ustojőivosti bazisnoj leksiki [Defining the Stability of Basic Lexicon]. In: Sergei Starostin. Trudy po jazykoznaniju [Works in Linguistics]: 825–839. Moscow: Jazyki slav’anskix kul’tur. Thelwall, Robin. 1977. A Birgid vocabulary list and its links with Daju. In: H. Ganslmayr & H. Jungraithmayr (eds.). Gedenkschrift Gustav Nachtigall 1874-1974: 197–210. Bremen: Übersee-Museum. Thelwall, Robin. 1978. Lexicostatistical relations between Nubian, Daju and Dinka. In: J. Leclant, J. Vercoutter (eds.). Etudes Nubiennes. Colloque de Chantilly, 2-6 Juillet 1975: 265–286. Caire: L'Institut Français d'Archéologie Orientale du Caire. Thelwall, Robin. 1983. Meidob Nubian: Phonology, Grammatical Notes and Basic Vocabulary. In: Lionel M. Bender (ed.). Nilo-Saharan Language Studies: 97–113. Michigan: East Lansing. Thompson, E. David. 1976. Nera. In: M. Lionel Bender (ed.). The Non-Semitic Languages of Ethiopia: 484–494. East Lansing: Michigan State University. Tucker, Archibald, Margaret A. Bryan. 1956. The Non-Bantu Languages of North-Eastern Africa. Oxford University Press. Vasilyev, Mikhail, George Starostin. 2014. Leksikostatisticheskaja klassifikacija nubijskikh jazykov: k voprosu o nil'sko-nubijskoj jazykovoj obshnosti [Lexicostatistical classification of the Nubian languages and the issue of the Nile-Nubian genetic unity]. Journal of Language Relationship 12: 51–72. Vossen, Rainer. 1982. The Eastern Nilotes. Linguistic and historical reconstructions. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag. Werner, Roland. 1987. Grammatik des Nobiin (Nilnubisch). Phonologie, Tonologie und Morphologie. Hamburg: Helmut Buske Verlag. 112

Lexicostatistical Studies in East Sudanic I: On the genetic unity of Nubian-Nara-Tama

Werner, Roland. 1993. Tìdn-áal: A Study of Midob (Darfur Nubian). Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag. Youn, Hyejin, Logan Sutton, Eric Smith, Cristopher Moore, Jon F. Wilkins, Ian Maddieson, William Croft, Tanmoy Bhattacharya. 2016. On the universal structure of human lexical semantics. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America 113(7): 1766–1771. Zyhlarz, Ernst. 1950. Die Lautverschiebung des Nubischen. Zeitschrift für Eingeborene Sprachen 35: 1–20, 128–146, 280–313.

ɱ. ʎ. ʎ˞ʸ˛˙˜˞ˌ˗. ʌˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˦˥ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ I: ˜ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˣ˫˄˘˙˨˜˥-ˣˁ˧ˁ-˪ˁˢˁ ˆˋˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˥˄˹ˣ˥˨˪˘ ɳ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ˊˁˋ˪˨̀ ˦˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣ˻˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˥˄˖˥˧ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻˲ 50-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ (˨˥˜˧ˁ˹ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˅ˁ˧˘ˁˣ˪ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ, ˨˥˨˪˥̀˹˘˙ ˘˖ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˫˨˪˥˙˵˘˅˻˲ ˽༤ˋˢˋˣ˪˥˅) ˦˥ ˪˧ˋˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻ˢ ˆ˧˫˦˦ˁˢ ˨ˋ˅ˋ˧˥-˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥˙ ɯ˱˧˘˜˘ — ˣ˫˄˘˙˨˜˥˙, ˣˁ˧ˁ ˘ ˪ˁˢˁ. ʨ˪˘ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻ ˪˧ˁˊ˘˴˘˥ˣˣ˥ ˥˪ˣ˥˨̀˪˨̀ ˜ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˼ˋ ˘ ˅ ˄˥༤˼˸˘ˣ˨˪˅ˋ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˫˿˹˘˲ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˙ ˥˦˘˨˻˅ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˥˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥ ˄༤˘˖˜˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˊ˧˫ˆ ˊ˧˫ˆ˫. ɳ ˥˄˖˥˧ˋ ˦˧˥ˊˋˢ˥ˣ˨˪˧˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˥, ˵˪˥ ˜ˁ˜ ˅ ˜˥༤˘˵ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˢ, ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ˅ ˜ˁ˵ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘˘ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˦ˁ˧ˁ༤༤ˋ༤˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˣ˫˄˘˙˨˜˘ˢ˘, ˣˁ˧ˁ ˘ ˪ˁˢˁ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘ ˫˄ˋˊ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˦˧ˋ˪˘˧˫˿˪˨̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˨༤ˋˊ˻ ˥˄˹ˋˆ˥ ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘̀ (ˁ ˣˋ ˁ˧ˋˁ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˄༤˘˖˥˨˪˘) ˽˪˘˲ ˆ˧˫˦˦, ˵˪˥ ˱˥˧ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˥ ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁˋ˪ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˫, ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ˦˧˘ˊˋ˧ː˘˅ˁ༤˘˨˼ ɸː. ɴ˧˘ˣ˄ˋ˧ˆ, ʍ. ʌ. ɲˋˣˊˋ˧, ʇ. ʒ˘༤˼˘ ˘ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘ˋ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˘. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˁ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˻ ˦˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˦˧ˁˣ˫˄˘˙˨˜˥-ˣˁ˧ˁ˪ˁˢˁ ̀˖˻˜ ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪˼ ˜ ˦ˋ˧˘˥ˊ˫ ˣˋ ˦˥˖ˊˣˋˋ 5-ˆ˥ ˪˻˨. ˊ˥ ˣ. ˽., ˪. ˋ. ˨ˋˢ˼̀ ˅ ˴ˋ༤˥ˢ ˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˊˁːˋ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˙, ˵ˋˢ ˦˧ˁ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜ˁ̀, ˘ ˣˁ˨˜˥༤˼˜˥ ˊˋ˪ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˄˫ˊˋ˪ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˘˧˥˅ˁ˪˼ ˊ༤̀ ˣˋˋ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˜˥˧˦˫˨, ˥˨˪ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˣˋ̀˨ˣ˻ˢ. ʓ˪ˁ˪˼̀ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ˨˥˄˥˙ ˦ˋ˧˅˫˿ ˦˫˄༤˘˜ˁ˴˘˿ ˘˖ ˨ˋ˧˘˘, ˜˥˪˥˧˫˿ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋ˪˨̀ ˦˥˨˅̀˪˘˪˼ ˜˥ˢ˦༤ˋ˜˨ˣ˥˙ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˥-༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˋ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˻. ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: ˣ˘༤˥-˨ˁ˲ˁ˧˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘, ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘, ˣ˫˄˘˙˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘, ̀˖˻˜˘ ˪ˁˢˁ, ˁ˱˧˘˜ˁˣ˨˜˥ˋ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘ˋ.

113

ʈ. ɵ. ɰʸ˜ˌ˕˰ˀʻ†, ʈ. ʉ. ʎʸˀ˗ː˙‡ † ‡

ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ (ʒ˥˨˨˘̀, ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ); [email protected], ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ (ʒ˥˨˨˘̀, ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ); [email protected]

ʂ ʻ˙˚˛˙˜˟ ˙ ˞˙˩˗˙˜˞ˌ ʼໞ˙˞˞˙˦˛˙˗˙ໞ˙ʼˌˌ: ʿʸ˞ˌ˛˙ʻʸ˗ˌˀ ˴ˊ˯ː˙ʻ˙ˍ ʿˌʻˀ˛ʼˀ˗˨ˌˌ ˚˙ ʿʸ˗˗˯˖ ˛˙˖ʸ˗˜ːˌ˦ ˴ˊ˯ː˙ʻ ʓ˪ˁ˪˼̀ ˦˧˥ˊ˥༤ːˁˋ˪ ˣˁ˵ˁ˪˥ˋ ˧ˁˣˣˋˋ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ, ˦˥˨˅̀˹ˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘˿ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ༤˘ˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜, ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘. ʑ˧ˋˊˢˋ˪˥ˢ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘̀ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ (˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˅˫˲ ˘༤˘ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅), ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˋ ˦˧˥˘˖˅˥ˊ˘˪˨̀ ˣˁ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ˨˥˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ʑ˧ˋˊˢˋ˪˥ˢ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘̀ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ — ˪. ˋ. ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˊˁ˪˻ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˅˫˲ ˘༤˘ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ ˨˥˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ɳ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˪˨̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˪˧ˁˊ˘˴˘˥ˣˣ˻ˋ, ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ˅ˣ˥˅˼ ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ːˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˥˨˥˄˥ˋ ˅ˣ˘ˢˁˣ˘ˋ ˫ˊˋ༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˋ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˘ ˣˁˊˌːˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣ˘˙ ˣˁ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˫˄˘ˣˁ˲. ʒˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˦˧˥˅ˋˊˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˦˥˖˅˥༤̀˿˪ ˣˋ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˜˥༤˘˵ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˥˴ˋˣ˘˪˼ ˆ˧ˁˣ˘˴˻ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˦˧˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˣ˥ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˨ˊˋ༤ˁ˪˼ ˧̀ˊ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˅˻˅˥ˊ˥˅, ˜ˁ˨ˁ˿˹˘˲˨̀ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪ˋ˙ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˣˁ ༤˿˄˥ˢ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ. ʂ˕˳˩ˀʻ˯ˀ ˜˕˙ʻʸ: ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀, ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˜ˁ, ˨˦˘˨˥˜ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ, ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘

ɸˁˣˣˁ̀ ˨˪ˁ˪˼̀ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˦˧˥ˊ˥༤ːˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˣˁ˸ˋˆ˥ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀, ˴ˋ༤˼ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˆ˥ — ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˁ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˘ ˣˁˊˋːˣ˥˨˪˘ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜, ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˨ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋˢ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅. ʑˋ˧˅ˁ̀ ˵ˁ˨˪˼ ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻ (ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016) ˄˻༤ˁ ˦˥˨˅̀˹ˋˣˁ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘˿ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘˙, ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ̀˹˘˲ ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˋ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˨ ˪ˋ˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘, ˘ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘˿ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥˙ ˊ˘˨˪ˁˣ˴˘˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ̀˖˻˜˥ˢ-˦˧ˋˊ˜˥ˢ ˘ ˋˆ˥ ˦˥˪˥ˢ˜ˁˢ˘ ˣˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥˅. ɳ˥ ˅˪˥˧˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˢ˻ ˥˄˧ˁ˪˘ˢ˨̀ ˜ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨˫ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ — ˪. ˋ. ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ˢ˫ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘˿ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀. ɸˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ˣˁ˘˄˥༤˼˸˘˙ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧ˋ˨ ˊ༤̀ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥-˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ (˅ ˵ˁ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˦˧˘ ˘˖˫˵ˋˣ˘˘ ˊˁ༤˼ˣˋˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ), ˪ˁ˜ ˜ˁ˜ ˊˁˋ˪ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˥༤˫˵˘˪˼ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˆˋˣˋˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˊˋ˧ˋ˅˼̀ ˘ ˪ˋˢ ˨ˁˢ˻ˢ — ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅˘˪˼ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˦˧ˁ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˘ ˨ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˘༤˘ ˊ˥˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˨˥˄˻˪˘̀ˢ˘, ˣˋ ˘ˢˋ˿˹˘ˢ˘ ˦˘˨˼ˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀, ˣˋ˨ˢ˥˪˧̀ ˣˁ ˢˣ˥ˆ˥˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˜˧˘˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˖ˁˢˋ˵ˁˣ˘̀, ˊ˥ ˨˘˲ ˥˨˪ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ˦˥˦˫༤̀˧ˣ˻ˢ, ˁ ˅ ˨༤˫˵ˁˋ ˨ ˢˁ༤˥˘˖˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˨ˋˢ˼̀ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ — ˋˊ˘ˣ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˊ˥˨˪˫˦ˣ˻ˢ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥ˢ ˊ༤̀ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣ˘̀ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜. ʎˋ˧ˋˊ˜˥ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜˘, ˥˦˫˄༤˘˜˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˅ ˫˖˜˥˦˧˥˱˘༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˨˪ˁ˪˼̀˲ ˘ ˘ˢˋ˿˹˘ˋ, ˜ˁ˜ ˦˧ˁ˅˘༤˥, ༤˘˸˼ ˦˧ˋˊ˅ˁ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙, ˥˴ˋˣ˥˵ˣ˻˙ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧, ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫˿˪˨̀ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˅ ˣˁ˫˵ˣ˻˲ ˘ ˣˁ˫˵ˣ˥-˦˥˦˫༤̀˧ˣ˻˲ ˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁ˲ ˦˥ ˨ˢˋːˣ˻ˢ ˊ˘˨˴˘˦༤˘ˣˁˢ (˘˨˪˥˧˘̀, ˁ˧˲ˋ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀ ˘ ˊ˧.), ˵˪˥ ˨˦˥˨˥˄˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˦˧˥˨˪˧ˁˣˋˣ˘˿ ˘ ˦˥˦˫༤̀˧˘˖ˁ˴˘˘ ˖ˁ ˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˁˢ˘ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀. ʁˁ˵ˁ˨˪˫˿ ˪ˁ˜˘ˋ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˦˧ˋ˦˥ˊˣ˥˨̀˪˨̀ ˵˘˪ˁ˪ˋ༤˿ ˫ːˋ ˜ˁ˜ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅༤ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˣˁ˫˵ˣ˻˙ ˱ˁ˜˪, ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˋˣˣ˻˙ ˨˪˧˥ˆ˘ˢ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥ˢ 1. 1 ʓˢ., ˣˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, (ɯ༤ˋ˜˨ˋˋ˅ 2013: 63; ɲˁˆˁˋ˅ 2015: 127). ɲ˥༤ˋˋ ˪˥ˆ˥, ˊˁːˋ ˨˦ˋ˴˘ˁ༤˘˨˪˻, ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ˋ ˜˧˘˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˜ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘, ˣˋ˧ˋˊ˜˥ ˨ˁˢ˘ ˦˥༤˼˖˫˿˪˨̀ ˋˌ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪ˁˢ˘ ˅ ˨˅˥˘˲ ˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁ˲. ʓˢ. ˣˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻ ʌ.ɍʓ. ʇ༤ˋ˙ˣˁ (ʇ༤ˋ˙ˣ 2010: 33–36, 122, 305–306, 466).

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/2 (2017) • Pp. 114–135 • © The authors, 2017

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ɳ ˽˪˘˲ ˥˄˨˪˥̀˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅ˁ˲ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˦˧˘˥˄˧ˋ˪ˁˋ˪ ˥˨˥˄˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˜ˁ˜ ˊ༤̀ ˦˧˥˱ˋ˨˨˘˥ˣˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨˥˥˄˹ˋ˨˪˅ˁ, ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ˊ༤̀ ˸˘˧˥˜˥˙ ˁ˫ˊ˘˪˥˧˘˘, ˦˥˨˜˥༤˼˜˫, ˨ ˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˨˪˥˧˥ˣ˻, ˥ˣ˥ ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘˪ ˨˦ˋ˴˘ˁ༤˘˨˪ˁˢ ˦˥༤˫˵˘˪˼ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˥ ˣˁˊˋːˣ˥˨˪˘ ˘ ˆ˧ˁˣ˘˴ˁ˲ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣ˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁ ˦˧˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘, ˁ ˣˋ˨˦ˋ˴˘ˁ༤˘˨˪ˁˢ — ˦˥ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˘˖˄ˋːˁ˪˼ ༤˘˸ˣ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖˥˵ˁ˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˙, ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˆ༤ˁ˅ˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˨ ˣˋ˦˥ˣ˘ˢˁˣ˘ˋˢ «ˊˋ˙˨˪˅˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˘ ˢˣ˘ˢ˻˲» 2 ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪ˋ˙ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘. ɳ ˣˁ˨˪˥̀˹ˋ˙ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˁ ˦˥˦˻˪˜ˁ ˪ˁ˜˥ˆ˥ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀, ˅˻˦˥༤ˣˋˣˣˁ̀ ˣˁ ˁ˜˪˫ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ, ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ 56 ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˘ ˊ˘ˁ༤ˋ˜˪˥˅. ɸ༤̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˣˁˢ˘ ˄˫ˊ˫˪ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˻ ˪˧˘ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁ: ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ, ˫˨˥˅ˋ˧˸ˋˣ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜ˁ, ˧ˁ˖˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁˣˣˁ̀ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ˻ˢ, ˘ ˣˋˊˁ˅ˣ˥ ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ːˋˣˣˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼, ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˣˁ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥ˢ ˦˥ˊ˲˥ˊˋ ˜ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨˫ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˋ ˴ˋ༤˘ ˘ ˖ˁˊˁ˵˘ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˥˨˪ˁˣ˫˪˨̀ ˪ˋˢ˘ ːˋ, ˵˪˥ ˘ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻: 1. ʓ˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅˘˪˼ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ (ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ, ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ, ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘) ˣˁ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ. 2. ʐ˦˧ˋˊˋ༤˘˪˼ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜ ˘ ˦˧˘ ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˦˧˥˅ˋ˨˪˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˫ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˦˥ ˘ˢˋ˿˹˘ˢ˨̀ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ (˥˦˥˧ˣ˻ˢ ˪˥˵˜ˁˢ). 3. ʐ˴ˋˣ˘˪˼ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˫˿ ˘ ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˫˿ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˦˧˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁˢ˘ ˘ ˆ˧˫˦˦ˁˢ˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅. ʑ˥ ˘˪˥ˆˁˢ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘̀ ˢ˻ ˨ˊˋ༤ˁˋˢ ˅˻˅˥ˊ˻ ˥ ˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˁ˲ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˘ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˴ˋˣˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ ˦˧˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˥ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪̀˲ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˣˁ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ ˘ ˄˥џ༤˼˸˘˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˫˄˘ˣˁ˲.

1. ɾ˜˦˙ʿ˗˯ˀ ʿʸ˗˗˯ˀ ʐ˄ˋ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˣˁ˸ˋˆ˥ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˦˧˥˅˥ˊ̀˪˨̀ ˣˁ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ ˥˄ˣ˥˅༤ˋˣˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˄ˁ˖˻ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˅˜༤˿˵ˁ˿˹ˋ˙ ˅ ˨ˋ˄̀ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˖˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻ˋ ˨˦˘˨˜˘ 52-˲ ˨˥˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˘ 4-˲ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ༤˘˪ˋ˧ˁ˪˫˧ˣ˻˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ (ˁ˧˲ˁ˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˘ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ༤ˁ˪˻ˣ˼, ˨˪ˁ˧˥˘˪ˁ༤˼̀ˣ˨˜˘˙ ˘ ˨˪ˁ˧˥˱˧ˁˣ˴˫˖˨˜˘˙) 3. ʃ˨˦˥༤˼˖˫̀ ˦˧˘˅ˋˊˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˅ ˄ˁ˖ˋ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪˻ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ 4 ˢˋːˊ˫ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢ˘ ˘༤˘ ˆ˧˫˦˦ˁˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˨˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ˥ ˊˁ˪ˋ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀, ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ˋ ˘˖ ˽˜˨˪˧ˁ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘˨˪˥˵ˣ˘˜˥˅, ˨˱˥˧ˢ˘˧˫ˋˢ ˣˁ˄˥˧ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ (˘༤˘ «˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵ˋ˜»), ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˻˲ ˊ༤̀ ˘˖ˢˋ˧ˋˣ˘̀ ˨˜˥˧˥˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ — ˨ˢ. ˪ˁ˄༤. 1. ɳ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˪ˁ˄༤˘˴ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˜ˁːˊ˥˙ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁˋˢ˥˙ ˦ˁ˧˻ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ (˘༤˘ ˆ˧˫˦˦ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ 5) ʃ˖ ˖ˁˆ༤ˁ˅˘̀ ˪ˋ˖˘˨˥˅ ˜ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˫ ɳ. ʍ. ʃ༤༤˘˵-ʓ˅˘˪˻˵ˁ: «ʍˣ˘ˢ˻ˋ ˘ ˊˋ˙˨˪˅˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˘ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˜˘» (ʃ༤༤˘˵-ʓ˅˘˪˻˵ 1966). 3 ʑ˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣˋˋ ˥ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅ˋ ˘ ˦˧˘ˣ˴˘˦ˁ˲ ˱˥˧ˢ˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˄ˁ˖˻, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜ˋ ˨˄˥˧ˁ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ˨ˢ. ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻ — ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016: 262–263. 4 ʑ˥༤ˣˁ̀ ˪ˁ˄༤˘˴ˁ ˦˥˦ˁ˧ˣ˻˲ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁˢ˘ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪˨̀ ˅ ˊ˥˦˥༤ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˁ˲ ˜ ˅˻˸ˋ˫˜ˁ˖ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ (˪ˁˢ ːˋ), ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ˊ˥˨˪˫˦ˣ˻ ˣˁ ˨ˁ˙˪ˋ ː˫˧ˣˁ༤ˁ www.jolr.ru. 5 ʑ˧˘ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘˘ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ ˦ˁ˧ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ (˨˪˧˥˜˘ 5, 7, 8), ˅ ˪ˁ˄༤˘˴ˋ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪˨̀ ˢ˘ˣ˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ, ˢˁ˜˨˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ ˘ ˨˧ˋˊˣˋˋ ˁ˧˘˱ˢˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹˘ˢ˘ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘. ʓ˧ˋˊˣˋˋ ˁ˧˘˱ˢˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˧ˁ˨˨˵˘˪˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˨˫ˢˢˁ ˅˨ˋ˲ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪˥˅ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙, ˊˋ༤ˋˣˣˁ̀ ˣˁ ˜˥༤˘˵ˋ˨˪˅˥ ˨༤ˁˆˁˋˢ˻˲. ʑ˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣˋˋ ˨ˢ. ˅ ˨ˣ˥˨˜ˋ 2 ˜ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016: 263. 2

115

ʍ˘ˣ.

71 73 69 69

ʜ˧ˁˣ˜˥-˦˧˥˅ˁˣ˨ˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ — ˦˘˜ˁ˧ˊ˨˜˘˙, ˅ˁ༤༤˥ˣ˨˜˘˙

ʑ˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ – ˜ˁ˨˪˘༤˼˨˜˘˙ ˘˨˦ˁˣ˨˜˘˙

ʑ˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ — ˱˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘˙, ༤ˁˊ˘ˣ˨˜˘ˋ, ˧˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ, ˘˪ˁ༤˥˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ, ˱˧ˁˣ˜˥-˦˧˥˅ˁˣ˨ˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙, ˥˜˨˘˪ˁˣ˨˜˘˙, ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ

ʇˁ˪ˁ༤ˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ — ˱˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘˙, ༤ˁˊ˘ˣ˨˜˘ˋ, ˧˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ, ˘˪ˁ༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ, ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ

ʑ˘˜ˁ˧ˊ˨˜˘˙ ˘ ˅ˁ༤༤˥ˣ˨˜˘˙ — ˱˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘˙, ༤ˁˊ˘ˣ˨˜˘ˋ, ˧˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ, ˘˪ˁ༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ, ˜ˁ˪ˁ༤ˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ, ˘˄ˋ˧˘˙˨˜˘ˋ

ʐ˄˹ˋˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ:

5

6

61

86

69,4

78,5

78,0

79,3

78,2

86

87,5

89

91

97

100

ʓ˧ˋˊˣ˘˙ % ˨˥˅˦.

ʍˁ˜˨.

78

85

83

85

83

-

89

-

-

-

-

ɏ% ˨˥˅˦.

270

480

710

850

900

480

1400

0

ˆ˥ˊ

ɸˁ˪ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀,

1730

1520

1290

1150

1100

790ɏ*

600

0

ɳ˧ˋˢ̀ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘, ༤ˋ˪

** ʁˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˧ˁ˨˨˵˘˪ˁˣ˥ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˊˁ˪˻ ˱˘˜˨ˁ˴˘˘ ˊ༤̀ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ɸˁˣ˪ˋ — 1270 ˆ. ** ʓ༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˥˪ˊˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˦˥̀˨ˣ˘˪˼ ˅˻˄˥˧ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˅ ˨˪˧˥˜ˋ 7. ʑ˥˨˜˥༤˼˜˫ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥ˋ ̀ˊ˧˥ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ˨˥˄˥˙ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ ˣˋ˦˧ˋ˧˻˅ˣ˻˙ ˊ˘ˁ༤ˋ˜˪ˣ˻˙ ˜˥ˣ˪˘ˣ˫˫ˢ, ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˆˋ˥ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ ˨˥˨ˋˊˣ˘ˢ˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁˢ˘ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˘ˢˋ˪˼ ˣˋ˜˘˙ «˦˥ˊ˨˜˥˜» ˅ ˨˘༤˫ ˣˁ༤˘˵˘̀ ˁ˧ˋˁ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˘ˣˣ˥˅ˁ˴˘˙. ɸ༤̀ ˨ˢ̀ˆ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˣˋːˋ༤ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˅༤˘̀ˣ˘̀ ˖ˁ˅˻˸ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˣˁ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁ༤˨̀ ˨༤ˋˊ˫˿˹˘˙ ˦˧˘ˋˢ: ˦˧˘ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘˘ ˜ˁ˜˥ˆ˥-༤˘˄˥ ˖˅ˋˣˁ ˊ˘ˁ༤ˋ˜˪ˣ˻˙ ˴ˋ˦˘ ˨˥˨ˋˊ˨˪˅˫˿˹˘ˋ ˨ ˣ˘ˢ ˖˅ˋˣ˼̀ ˘˨˜༤˿˵ˁ༤˘˨˼ ˘ ˦˧˥˅˥ˊ˘༤˥˨˼ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˨ ˆˋ˥ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ ˣˋ ˦˧˘ˢ˻˜ˁ˿˹˘ˢ˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁˢ˘. ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˦˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀༤˨̀ ˨˥ ˅˨ˋˢ˘ ˥˨˪ˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˢ˘ «̀ˊˋ˧ˣ˻ˢ˘» (˪. ˋ. ˅˨ˋˢ˘, ˜˧˥ˢˋ ˄ˁ༤˜ˁˣ˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˨ˁ˧ˊ˘ˣ˨˜˘˲) ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘, ˜˧˥ˢˋ ˨˥˨ˋˊ˨˪˅˫˿˹˘˲ ˨ ˣ˘ˢ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ʃ˨˦ˁˣ˘˘.

8

ɲˁ༤˜ˁˣ˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ — ˥˨˪ˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ

-

ʒ˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˘˙ — ˁ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˘˙

4

7ɏ**

-

ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˱˧ˁˣ˴˫˖˨˜˘˙ (ʇ˧ˋ˪˼ˋˣ ˊˋ ʕ˧˫ˁ, 1140 ˆ. ˣ.˽.) — ˨˪ˁ˧˥˘˪ˁ༤˼̀ˣ˨˜˘˙ (ɸˁˣ˪ˋ, 1270 ˆ.)

3 -

-

ʑ˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ — ˆˁ༤˘˨˘˙˨˜˘˙

2

-

ɏ% ˨˥˅˦.

ʌ˿˄˻ˋ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˻

ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁˋˢ˻ˋ ˨˦˘˨˜˘

1

̘

ʐʸʺ˕ˌ˨ʸ 1. ʃ˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˋ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˨˜˥˧˥˨˪˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ (˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ˊ༤̀ 54-˲ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅)

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

˫˜ˁ˖ˁˣ˻ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪˻ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˘˲ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘, ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋˢˁ̀ ˊˁ˪ˁ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀, ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˘˧˫ˋˢˁ̀ ˦˥ ˽˜˨˪˧ˁ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ — ˪. ˋ. ˨˥˄˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘. ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˊ˥༤̀ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘ ˱˧ˁˣ˜˥-˦˧˥˅ˁˣ˨ˁ༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˦˘˜ˁ˧ˊ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ 89ɏ%, ˱˧ˁˣ˜˥-˦˧˥˅ˁˣ˨ˁ༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˅ˁ༤༤˥ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ — 86ɏ%. ʓ༤˥ː˘˅ ˥˄ˁ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˘ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤˘˅ ˨˫ˢˢ˫ ˦˥˦˥༤ˁˢ, ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˨˧ˋˊˣˋˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ — 87,5ɏ%, ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˅ ˪ˁ˄༤˘˴ˋ. ɸ༤̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˽˪˘˲ ˘ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˄˻༤˘ ˅˻˄˧ˁˣ˻ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˨˥˄˻˪˘̀, ˅ ˖ˣˁ˵˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˢˋ˧ˋ ˦˥˅༤˘̀˅˸˘ˋ ˣˁ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˿ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˢ˘˧ˁ, ˁ ˪ˋˢ ˨ˁˢ˻ˢ — ˘ ˣˁ ˨˫ˊ˼˄˫ ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤ˋ˙ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ʇ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧˫, ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˱˧ˁˣ˜˥˦˧˥˅ˁˣ˨ˁ༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨ ˦˘˜ˁ˧ˊ˨˜˘ˢ ˘ ˅ˁ༤༤˥ˣ˨˜˘ˢ, ˦˥ ˅˨ˋ˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˨˅̀˖˻˅ˁ˪˼ ˨ ˥˄˥˨˥˄༤ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ʑ˧˥˅ˁˣ˨ˁ ˅ ˲˥ˊˋ ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊˁ ˘ˢ˦ˋ˧˘˘ ʇˁ˧˥༤˘ˣˆ˥˅ ˅ 850–860-˲ ˆˆ. ɯˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˨˥˥˪ˣˋ˨˪˘ ˥˪ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˄ˁ༤˜ˁˣ˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻ ˥˪ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˢˁ˨˨˘˅ˁ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ — ˨ ˅˻˅˥ˊ˥ˢ ˧˘ˢ˨˜˘˲ ༤ˋˆ˘˥ˣ˥˅ ˘˖ ɸˁ˜˘˘ ˅ 271 ˆ.; ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥˙ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˥˄˹ˣ˥˨˪˘ — ˨ ˜˧˫˸ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ʁˁ˦ˁˊˣ˥˙ ʒ˘ˢ˨˜˥˙ ˘ˢ˦ˋ˧˘˘ ˅ 476 ˆ.; ˧ˁ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˜ˁ˨˪˘༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘˨˦ˁˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ — ˨ ˁ˧ˁ˄˨˜˘ˢ ˖ˁ˅˥ˋ˅ˁˣ˘ˋˢ ʑ˘˧ˋˣˋ˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦˥༤˫˥˨˪˧˥˅ˁ ˅ 711–718 ˆˆ. ʒˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˁ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˅ 900 ˆ. ˊˁ˪˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˣˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅ ˥˄ ˫˦˥ˢ˘ˣˁˣ˘˘ ˁ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ ˅ ˜ˁ˵ˋ˨˪˅ˋ ˥˪ˊˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˽˪ˣ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻ ˅ ˅˘˖ˁˣ˪˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˲˧˥ˣ˘˜ˁ˲ IX ˅. 6 ʒˁ˖˫ˢˋˋ˪˨̀, ༤˿˄˻ˋ ˦˥˦˻˪˜˘ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˘˪˼ ˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˫˿ ˜˥˧˧ˋ༤̀˴˘˿ ˢˋːˊ˫ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ˢ˘ ˘ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˜˥ˣ˪ˋ˜˨˪˥ˢ ˢ˥ˆ˫˪ ˅˻˖˅ˁ˪˼ ˥˄˥˨ˣ˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˅˥˖˧ˁːˋˣ˘̀. ʑ˧ˋːˊˋ ˅˨ˋˆ˥ ˥˵ˋ˅˘ˊˣ˥, ˵˪˥ ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˣˋ ˅˨ˋˆˊˁ ˨˅̀˖ˁˣ˥ ˨ ˦ˋ˧ˋ༤˥ˢˣ˻ˢ˘ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˨˥˄˻˪˘̀ˢ˘ (˪ˁ˜˘ˢ˘ ˜ˁ˜ ˖ˁ˅˥ˋ˅ˁˣ˘̀, ˢ˘ˆ˧ˁ˴˘˘, ˦˧˘˧˥ˊˣ˻ˋ ˄ˋˊ˨˪˅˘̀ ˘ ˪. ˊ.), ˁ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ˘˪˼ ˅˨༤ˋˊ˨˪˅˘ˋ ˅ˣ˫˪˧ˋˣˣ˘˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ˣ˻˲, ˨˥˴˘ˁ༤˼ˣ˻˲, ˽˜˥ˣ˥ˢ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˦˧˘˵˘ˣ. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˜ˁ˜ ˦˧ˋˊ˸ˋ˨˪˅˥˅ˁ˪˼ ˱˘˖˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ˫ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘˿ ˘˲ ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤ˋ˙, ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ˦˧˥˘˖˥˙˪˘ ˨˦˫˨˪̀ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˋ (˘ˣ˥ˆˊˁ — ˦˧˥ˊ˥༤ː˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ) ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˣˋˆ˥ — ˣˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˦˧˘ ˫˨༤˥˅˘˘ ˦˥ˊˊˋ˧ːˁˣ˘̀ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ˣ˻˲ ˜˥ˣ˪ˁ˜˪˥˅ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˣ˘ˢ˘ 7. ɳ˥-˅˪˥˧˻˲, ˨ˁˢ ˪ˋ˧ˢ˘ˣ «ˊˁ˪ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀» ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣ̀˪˼ ༤˘˸˼ ˫˨༤˥˅ˣ˥, ˦˥˨˜˥༤˼˜˫ ˅ ˊˋ˙˨˪˅˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˥ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˣˋ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˥ˊˣ˥ˢ˥ˢˋˣ˪ˣ˻ˢ ˨˥˄˻˪˘ˋˢ, ˁ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ˨˥˄˥˙ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨, ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ̀˹˘˙ ˦˥˨˪ˋ˦ˋˣˣ˥ ˨ ˪ˋ˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘. ʃˣˁ˵ˋ ˆ˥˅˥˧̀, ˄˻༤˥ ˄˻ ˜˥˧˧ˋ˜˪ˣˋˋ ˆ˥˅˥˧˘˪˼ ˣˋ ˥ «ˊˁ˪ˋ», ˁ ˥ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˢ «˦ˋ˧˘˥ˊˋ» ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘, ˦˥ ˖ˁ˅ˋ˧˸ˋˣ˘˘ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˆ˥ ˢ˻ ˢ˥ːˋˢ ˖ˁ˱˘˜˨˘˧˥˅ˁ˪˼ ˪ˋ ˘༤˘ ˘ˣ˻ˋ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵˘̀, ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˫˿˹˘ˋ ˥ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ, ˜ˁ˜ ˦˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁ˿˪ ˜˥ˣ˜˧ˋ˪ˣ˻ˋ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘, ˢ˥ˢˋˣ˪ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˖ˁˢˋˣ˻ ˣˋ ˅˨ˋˆˊˁ ̀˅༤̀˿˪˨̀ ˣˁˊˋːˣ˻ˢ ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˥ˢ ˣˁ˵ˁ༤ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ 8. ɹ˨༤˘ ːˋ ˨˅̀˖˻˅ˁ˪˼ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨ ˣˁ˜˥˦༤ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˌˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˵˘˨༤ˁ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁˢ˘, ˪˥ ˅˨˪ˁˌ˪ ˅˥˦˧˥˨, ˜ˁ˜˥ˋ ˜˥༤˘˵ˋ˨˪˅˥ (˘༤˘ ˜ˁ˵ˋ˨˪˅˥) ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵˘˙ ˨˵˘˪ˁ˪˼ ˜˧˘˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ. ɳ ˪˥ ːˋ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˥˪ˢˋ˪˘˪˼, ˵˪˥ ˅˨ˋ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ˋ ˣˁ ˨ˋˆ˥ˊˣ̀˸ˣ˘˙ ˊˋˣ˼ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˄˻༤˘ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣ˻ ˨ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋˢ (˦˫˨˪˼ ˘ ˅ ˘ˢ˦༤˘˴˘˪ˣ˥ˢ ˅˘ˊˋ) ʓˢ. ˦˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣˋˋ ˅ ʎˁ˧˫ˢ˥˅ 2001: 638. ʨ˪˥˪ ˱ˁ˜˪, ˅ ˵ˁ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˦˧˥̀˅༤̀˪˼˨̀ ˅ ˖ˣˁ˵˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˋ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪˥˅ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˊ༤̀ ˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˘ ˪˥˙ ːˋ ˪˥˵˜˘ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲. 8 ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˅ ˨ˁ˧ˊ˘ˣ˨˜˘˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁ˲ ˜˥ˣ˪˘ˣ˫ˁˣ˪˻ magnus ˦˥-˦˧ˋːˣˋˢ˫ ̀˅༤̀˿˪˨̀ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˢ ˨༤˥˅˥ˢ ˊ༤̀ big, ˅ ˪˥ ˅˧ˋˢ̀, ˜ˁ˜ ˅ ˥˨˪ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥ˢ ˢ˘˧ˋ magnus ˄˻༤˥ ˅˻˪ˋ˨ˣˋˣ˥ grandis. ʍ˻ ˖ˣˁˋˢ, ˵˪˥ ˽˪ˁ ˖ˁˢˋˣˁ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˊ˥˅˥༤˼ˣ˥ ˨˪ˁ˧˥˙, ˦˥˨˜˥༤˼˜˫ ˊ༤̀ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ɯ˦˫༤ˋ̀ ˄ˁ˖˥˅˻ˢ ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˨˵˘˪ˁ˪˼ ˘ˢˋˣˣ˥ grandis, ˁ ˣˋ magnus. ʐˊˣˁ˜˥ ˨˅̀˖˻˅ˁ˪˼ ˥˪ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨ˁ˧ˊ˘ˣ˨˜˘˲ ˥˪ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀ˊ˧ˁ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˨ ˖ˁˢˋˣ˥˙ magnus > grandis, ˄˻༤˥ ˄˻ ˣˋ˦˧ˁ˅˘༤˼ˣ˻ˢ: ˅ ˨ˁ˧ˊ˘ˣ˨˜˘˲ ˢ˻ ˣˁ˲˥ˊ˘ˢ ˴ˋ༤˻˙ ˧̀ˊ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˦˥˖ˊˣ˘˲ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ˘ˣˣ˥˅ˁ˴˘˙ (ignis > focus; iecur > ficatum; vir > homo; os > bucca; cutis > pellis; brevis > curtus ˘ ˊ˧.). 6 7

117

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

ˊ˥˦˫˹ˋˣ˘̀ ˥ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˢ ˖˙˖ˀ˗˞ˀ ʻ˛ˀ˖ˀ˗ˌ, ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹ˋˢ ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˫ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˅ ˲˥ˊˋ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˦˥˘˨˜ ˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˁ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˦˧˥˘˖˅˥ˊ˘༤ˁ˨˼, ˜ˁ˜ ˦˧ˁ˅˘༤˥, ˣˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘༤˘ ˊ˥˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ (ˣˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˁ˧˲ˋ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘) ˨˅ˋˊˋˣ˘˙ ˥ ː˘˖ˣ˘ ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤ˋ˙ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ʐ˵ˋ˅˘ˊˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˥˪˜ˁ˖ ˥˪ ˊˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˊ˥˦˫˹ˋˣ˘̀ ˘ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘ ˦˧˘˅ˋ༤ ˄˻ ˜ ˣˋ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˘ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˵˘˨༤˥˅˻˲ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙, ˁ ˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ — ˜ ˣˋ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˘ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˅ ˴ˋ༤˥ˢ. ʑ˥˽˪˥ˢ˫, ˥˨˥˖ˣˁ˅ˁ̀ ˅˨˿ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢˁ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˘ ˣˋ˨˥˅ˋ˧˸ˋˣ˨˪˅˥ ˊˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˦˥ˊ˲˥ˊˁ, ˢ˻, ˪ˋˢ ˣˋ ˢˋˣˋˋ, ˊ˥༤ːˣ˻ ˦˧˘˖ˣˁ˪˼ ˋˆ˥ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˴ˋ༤ˋ˨˥˥˄˧ˁ˖ˣ˻ˢ ˘ ˥˦˧ˁ˅ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˅ ˧ˁˢ˜ˁ˲ ˣˁ˸ˋˆ˥ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀. ʑ˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˋ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅˘˪˼ ˅ ˅˘ˊˋ ˊ˘ˁˆ˧ˁˢˢ˻, ˣˁ ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ˜ˁːˊˁ̀ ˥˦˥˧ˣˁ̀ ˪˥˵˜ˁ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˨˪˧˥˜ˋ ˪ˁ˄༤˘˴˻ 1 ˨ ˪ˋˢ ːˋ ˣ˥ˢˋ˧˥ˢ. ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 1. ʃ˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˊ˥༤˘ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˅ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˥˪ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘. ɸ༤̀ ˪˥˵ˋ˜ 5, 7 ˘ 8 ˦˥˜ˁ˖ˁˣ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˁ ˊ˥༤ˋ˙ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˘ ˨˧ˋˊˣˋˋ ˁ˧˘˱ˢˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ. 1.1

Ⱦɨɥɹ ɨɛɳɢɯ ɡɧɚɱɟɧɢɣ

1

1 2

0.9

3

0.8

4 5 6 7

0.7

8

0.6 0.5 0.4

0

0.4

0.8

1.2

1.6

2

ɳ˧ˋˢ̀ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀, ˞˯˜. ˕ˀ˞

ʎˁ ˧˘˨˫ˣ˜ˋ ˅˘ˊˣ˥, ˵˪˥ ˣˁ˄༤˿ˊˁˋˢ˻˙ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ (˪ˁ˜ ːˋ ˜ˁ˜ ˘ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ, ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˣˁˢ˘ ˧ˁˣˋˋ 9), ˘ˢˋˋ˪ ˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˫˿ ˦˧˘˧˥ˊ˫. ɳ ˵ˁ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˊ༤̀ ˪˥˵˜˘ 7 ˊ˥༤̀ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁˢ˘ ˨ ˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˘ ˪˥˙ ːˋ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋˢ˥˙ ˊˁ˪˥˙ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ (480 ˆ.) ˅ˁ˧˼˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˥˪ 69 ˊ˥ 85ɏ% 10, ˵˪˥ ˫˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˣˁ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪ˣ˻˙ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ. ʐ˪ˢˋ˪˘ˢ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ, ˵˪˥ ˅˨ˋ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻ˋ ˪˥˵˜˘ ༤ˋːˁ˪ ˅ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˣˋ˄˥༤˼˸˥ˢ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣˋ (ˊ˥ 2000 ༤ˋ˪), ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˢ ˘ ˄˫ˊ˫˪ ˅ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥ˢ ˥ˆ˧ˁˣ˘˵ˋˣ˻ ˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˧ˁˢ˜˘ ˣˁ˸ˋˆ˥ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘̀. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˢ˻ ˣˁ˄༤˿ˊˁˋˢ ˜˥ˢ˦ˁ˜˪ˣ˥ˋ ˧ˁ˨˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘ˋ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵ˋ˜ ˅ˊ˥༤˼ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ༤˘ˣ˘˘ ˧ˋˆ˧ˋ˨˨˘˘ 11 ˣˁ ˅˨ˋˢ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˥ˢ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˋ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘, ˵˪˥ ˊˁˋ˪ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˆ˥˅˥˧˘˪˼ ˥ ˣˁ༤˘˵˘˘ ˊ˗ʸ˩ˌ˖˙ˍ ˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˊ˥༤ˋ˙ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤˘˅˸˘˲˨̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˘ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˋˢ ˘˲ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘. ʐ˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˅˥˙˨˪˅ ˽˪˥˙ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˢ˻ ˄˫ˊˋˢ ˦˧˥˘˖˅˥ˊ˘˪˼ ˣˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ˪˧ˋ˲ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥˅, ʓ˧. ˨ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˥˙ ˊ˘ˁˆ˧ˁˢˢ˥˙ ˣˁ ˧˘˨. 2 (ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016: 264–265). ʓ˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹˘˙ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣ ˊ༤̀ ˪˥˵˜˘ 8 (270 ˆ.) ˋ˹ˋ ˸˘˧ˋ — ˥˪ 61 ˊ˥ 78ɏ%. 11 ʇ˧˘˅ˁ̀, ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ˪˥˵ˣ˥ ˥˪˧ˁːˁ˿˹ˁ̀ ˧ˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˽˜˨˦ˋ˧˘ˢˋˣ˪ˁ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲. 9

10

118

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ˊ˅ˁ ˘˖ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ (ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜ˁ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˘ ʓ.ɍɯ.ɍʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ) ˲˥˧˥˸˥ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ ˘ ˫ːˋ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁ༤˘˨˼ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˣˁ˸ˋ˙ ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻, ˁ ˪˧ˋ˪˘˙ (˦˥˪˥˜˥˅ˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼) ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ːˋˣ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˣˋˊˁ˅ˣ˥ 12. ɸ༤̀ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ˢ˻ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅˘ˢ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˜ˁːˊ˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ˘ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˘ ˦˧˘ ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˦˧˥˅ˋˊˋˢ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˫ ˘˲ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅, ˁ ˖ˁ˪ˋˢ ˨ˊˋ༤ˁˋˢ ˅˻˅˥ˊ˻ ˥ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘˘ ˘༤˘ ˣˋ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘˘ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˥˄˹ˋˢ˫ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧˫ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˘ ˋˆ˥ ˥˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥˨˪̀ˢ.

2. ɭ˗ʸໞˌˊ ʼໞ˙˞˞˙˦˛˙˗˙ໞ˙ʼˌ˩ˀ˜ːˌ˦ ˖˙ʿˀໞˀˍ 2.1. ɴ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ɳ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘˘ ˨ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˥˙ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊˁ ˘˲ ˥˄˹ˋˆ˥ ˦˧ˋˊ˜ˁ (˦˧ˁ̀˖˻˜ˁ), ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ˘˪ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ ˊ˧˫ˆ ˥˪ ˊ˧˫ˆˁ, ˵˪˥ ˥˪˧ˁːˋˣ˥ ˅ ˥ˊˣ˥ˢ ˘˖ ˆ༤ˁ˅ˣ˻˲ ˦˥˨˪˫༤ˁ˪˥˅ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ɳˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˪˥ˆ˥, ˵˪˥ ˨༤˥˅˥ ˘˖ ʐ[˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥ˆ˥] ʓ[˦˘˨˜ˁ] ˦˧ˁ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ˘˪˨̀ ˅ ʐ[˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥ˢ] ʓ[˦˘˨˜ˋ] ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜ˁ, ˣˋ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘˪ ˥˪ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˋˆ˥ ˨˥˲˧ˁˣˋˣ˘̀ ˅ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˥ˢ ˨˦˘˨˜ˋ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˦˥˪˥ˢ˜ˁ (ɯ˧ˁ˦˥˅, ʝˋ˧˴ 1974: 25).

ɸˁˣˣ˥ˋ ˫˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘༤˥ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸˫ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˙˪˘ ˥˪ ˥˄˹ˋˆ˥ ˫˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘̀ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘, ˘ˢˋ˿˹ˋˆ˥ ˅˘ˊ N Sw (t) = e − Ȝ ⋅t , ˜ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˅˫˲ ˘༤˘ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅ ˦˫˪ˋˢ ˅˥˖˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ˅˻˧ˁːˋˣ˘̀ ˅ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹˫˿ ˨˪ˋ˦ˋˣ˼. ɳ ˵ˁ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˊ༤̀ ˊ˅˫˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˢ˻ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫:

N 2 Sw (t) = N Sw (t) 2 = e −2 Ȝ ⋅t . ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, «˨˜˥˧˥˨˪˼» ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˅˫˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˊ˧˫ˆ ˊ˧˫ˆˁ (2λ) ˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˅ˊ˅˥ˋ ˄˥༤˼˸ˋ «˨˜˥˧˥˨˪˘» ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˨˅˥ˋˆ˥ ˦˧ˋˊ˜ˁ (λ), ˵˪˥ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˦˧˘ˣ̀˪˥ˢ˫ ˫˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˋˣ˘˿ ˥ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘˘ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀. ʑ˥ˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀̀ ˅ ˜ˁ˵ˋ˨˪˅ˋ «˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ ˦˥˪ˋ˧˼» λ 13 ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ 0,16, ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ːˋˣˣ˥ˋ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˋˢ 14, ˦˥༤˫˵˘ˢ ˘˪˥ˆ˥˅˫˿ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼:

N 2 Sw (t) = e −2⋅0,16⋅t ʃ˨˦˥༤˼˖˫̀ ˊˁˣˣ˫˿ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫, ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˦˥ˊ˨˵˘˪ˁ˪˼ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˅˫˲ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ (t), ˦˥ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˥ˢ˫ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪˫ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˘˲ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘ (N). ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨ˣ˥ ˽˪˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˁ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨ ˊ˥༤ˋ˙ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘̀ 89ɏ% (Nɏ=ɏ0,89), ˊ˥༤ːˣ˥ ˄˻༤˥ ˦˧˥˘˖˥˙˪˘ ˥˜˥༤˥ 370 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ: ɳ˦ˋ˧˅˻ˋ ˊˁˣˣˁ̀ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜ˁ ˄˻༤ˁ ˥˦˘˨ˁˣˁ ˅ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ˘༤˘˪ˁ˧ˌ˅, 2008: 509–536. ʇ˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ ˦˥˪ˋ˧˼ (λ) ˅ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤ˋ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤̀ˋ˪ ˪ˋˢ˦ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ̀˖˻˜ˁ: ˵ˋˢ ˄˥༤˼˸ˋ λ, ˪ˋˢ ˄˥༤˼˸˘˙ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˘˖ˢˋˣ˘˪˨̀ ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˋ ˖ˁ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˦˧˥ˢˋː˫˪˥˜ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘. ʎˋ ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˦˫˪ˁ˪˼ «˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ ˦˥˪ˋ˧˼» ˨ «˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪˥ˢ ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ̀ˋˢ˥˨˪˘» (r), ˜˥˪˥˧˻˙ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˵ˁ˨˪˥ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁ˲ ˦˥ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˘ ˥˖ˣˁ˵ˁˋ˪ ˊ˥༤˿ ˨༤˥˅, ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ˘˅˸˘˲˨̀ (˪.ˋ. ˥˨˪ˁ˅˸˘˲˨̀ ˣˋ˘˖ˢˋˣˣ˻ˢ˘) ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˋ ˖ˁ 1000 ༤ˋ˪. 14 ɸˁˣˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ λ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ «˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪˫ ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ̀ˋˢ˥˨˪˘» rɏ=ɏ0,85, ˦ˋ˧˅˥ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˥ˢ˫ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˋˢ ˊ༤̀ 200-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ (ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ 1960: 34). ʑ˥˖ˊˣˋˋ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ λ ˣˋ˥ˊˣ˥˜˧ˁ˪ˣ˥ ˫˪˥˵ˣ̀༤ˁ˨˼ ˘ ˜˥˧˧ˋ˜˪˘˧˥˅ˁ༤ˁ˨˼ (˅ ˪˥ˢ ˵˘˨༤ˋ — ˦˥ ˨˪˥˨༤˥˅ˣ˻ˢ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ). ʕˋˢ ˣˋ ˢˋˣˋˋ, ˣˁ˘˄˥༤˼˸˫˿ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˧˘˥˄˧ˋ༤˥ ˘ˢˋˣˣ˥ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ, ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˋ ˋ˹ˋ ˊ˥༤ˆ˥ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁ༤˥˨˼ ˅ ˊ˘˨˜˫˨˨˘̀˲ ˜ˁ˜ ˨˪˥˧˥ˣˣ˘˜ˁˢ˘, ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ˜˧˘˪˘˜ˁˢ˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘. ʑ˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣˋˋ ˨ˢ. ˅ ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016: 260–261. 12 13

119

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

ln(N) ln 0,89 0,117 =− = = 0,366 ɬɵɫ . ɥɟɬ , 2⋅λ 2 ⋅ 0,16 0,32 — ˪. ˋ. ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧ˣ˥ ˅ XVII ˅., ˵˪˥ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˦˥˖ːˋ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋˢ˥˙ ˊˁ˪˻ — IX ˅. (˨ˢ. ˪ˁ˄༤. 1, ˨˪˧˥˜ˁ 4). ʒˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅, ˦˧˥˅ˋˊˋˣˣ˻˲ ˊ༤̀ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣˁ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˻˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ N, ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˻ ˣˁ ˧˘˨. 2. t=−

N 2 Sw (t) = e −2⋅0 ,16⋅t .

ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 2. ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ˘ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ˘: 1.1 N(t) 1 0.9 0.8 0.7 0.6

N2Sw

0.5 0.4 0.3

0

0.4

0.8 1.2 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

1.6

2

ʒ˘˨˫ˣ˥˜ ˦˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˣˁ ˅˨ˋˢ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˥ˢ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˋ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪ ˜ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˢ˫ (˅ 2 ˘ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˧ˁ˖) «˥ˢ˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘˿» ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜ ˦˥ ˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘˿ ˜ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋˢ˻ˢ ˊˁ˪ˁˢ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀. ɳˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀ ˅˻ˆ༤̀ˊ˘˪ ˥˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥ ˅ˣ˫˸˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˦˧˘ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘˘ ˨ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪ˁˢ˘, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˦˧˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ 15, ˆˊˋ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˻ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˨ ˪ˋˢ ːˋ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪˥ˢ λɏ=ɏ0,16 ˘ ˣˁ ˪˥ˢ ːˋ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ ˥˄ˋ˨˦ˋ˵˘༤˥ ˥˵ˋˣ˼ ˲˥˧˥˸ˋˋ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘ˋ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻˲ ˘ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ 16. ɸ༤̀ ˦˥˅˻˸ˋˣ˘̀ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˦˥˦˧˥˄˫ˋˢ ˦˧˥˅ˋ˨˪˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˫ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ λ ˦˥ ˘ˢˋ˿˹˘ˢ˨̀ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ. ɸ༤̀ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ˅˥˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˨̀ ˫ːˋ ˖ˣˁ˜˥ˢ˻ˢ ˣˁˢ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥ˢ ˣˁ˘ˢˋˣ˼˸˘˲ ˜˅ˁˊ˧ˁ˪˥˅ 17. ʓˢ˻˨༤ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁ ˖ˁ˜༤˿˵ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˦˥˘˨˜ˋ ˪ˁ˜˥ˆ˥ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ λ, ˦˧˘ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˢ ˨˫ˢˢˁ˧ˣ˥ˋ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘ˋ (ε) ˢˋːˊ˫ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˘ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˊ˥༤̀ˢ˘ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙, ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˅˨ˋ˲ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵ˋ˜, ˥˜ˁːˋ˪˨̀ ˢ˘ˣ˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˢ. ɳ ˥˄˹ˋˢ ˅˘ˊˋ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫ ˊ༤̀ ˦˥˘˨˜ˁ ˥˦˪˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ λ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅˘˪˼ ˨༤ˋˊ˫˿˹˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ: İ = ¦ (Nɪ,i−Nɮ,i) 2 → min, i

ˆˊˋ N˛ — ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˊ˥༤˘ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙, ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˦˥ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤ˋ N2Sw(t)ɏ=ɏ e–2⋅λ⋅t, i — ˣ˥ˢˋ˧ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˥˙ ˪˥˵˜˘, ˁ N˥ ˘ t — ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˥༤˘ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˘ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ 18. ʓ˧. ˨ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˻ˢ ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˜˥ˢ ˣˁ ˧˘˨.3 (ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016: 266). ʎˁ˦˥ˢˣ˘ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘ˋ ˥˜ˁ˖ˁ༤˥˨˼ ˣˁ˨˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˻ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˦˥ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ λ ˣˋ ˘˖ˢˋˣ˘༤ˁ˨˼ ˘ ˨˥˅˦ˁ༤ˁ ˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ — 0,16. 17 ʓˢ. ˦˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣ˥ˋ ˥˦˘˨ˁˣ˘ˋ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁ ˨ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧ˁˢ˘ ˋˆ˥ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ (˪ˁˢ ːˋ: 265–267). 18 ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˊ༤̀ ˨༤˫˵ˁ̀ ˨ ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˘ˢ ˘ ˁ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˘ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘ ˊ˥༤̀ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˘˲ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ 89ɏ% (N˥ɏ=ɏ0,89), ˁ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ 1100 ༤ˋ˪ (tɏ=ɏ1,1). ʑ˥ˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀̀ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˅ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫ 15 16

120

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ʑ˥ˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀̀ ˅ ˊˁˣˣ˫˿ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˘˖ ˪ˁ˄༤. 1 ˘ ˅˻˦˥༤ˣ˘˅ ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˻ˋ ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣ˘̀ 19, ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ λɏ=ɏ0,09, ˫ˊ˥˅༤ˋ˪˅˥˧̀˿˹˘˙ ˫˨༤˥˅˘˿ ˣˁ˘ˢˋˣ˼˸ˋˆ˥ ˨˫ˢˢˁ˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀, ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˆ˥ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅˘༤ˁ εɏ=ɏ0,76 (˨ˢ. ˧˘˨. 3). ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˄˫ˊˋ˪ ˘ˢˋ˪˼ ˅˘ˊ: N 2 SwC (t) = e −2⋅0,09⋅t .

Ʉɨɥɢɱɟɫɬɜɨ ɩɚɪ ɹɡɵɤɨɜ (nλ) ɫ ɞɚɧɧɵɦ ɡɧɚɱɟɧɢɟɦ λ

ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 3. ʒˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ λSw, ˧ˁ˨˨˵˘˪ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˦˥ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻ˢ ˪˥˵˜ˁˢ (˪ˁ˄༤. 1) ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ. ʎˁ˙ˊˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˥˦˪˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ λSw ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˢˁ˪ˋˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ˫ ˥ː˘ˊˁˣ˘˿ 0,09 ˦˧˘ ˨˧ˋˊˣˋˢ ˜˅ˁˊ˧ˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘˘ σλɏ=ɏ0,02. 100

0.09

75 50 25 0

0

0.05

0.1

0.15

Ɂɧɚɱɟɧɢɹ ɤɨɷɮɮɢɰɢɟɧɬɚ λSw

ɸ༤̀ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˘ ˣ˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˥˴ˋˣ˜˘ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˥˅ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˥˄˧ˁ˪˘ˢ˨̀ ˜ ˊ˘ˁˆ˧ˁˢˢˋ ˣˁ ˧˘˨. 4. ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 4. ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ˘ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ˘: N 2 Sw (t) = e −2⋅0,16⋅t (εɏ=ɏ8,46) — ˘˨˲˥ˊˣˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ 20; N 2 SwC (t) = e −2⋅0,09⋅t (εɏ=ɏ0,76) — ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ. 1.1 N(t) 1

N2SwC

0.9 0.8 0.7 0.6

N2Sw=N'2Sw

0.5 0.4 0.3

0

0.4

0.8 1.2 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

1.6

2

ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ, ˢ˻ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ: N˛ɏ=ɏN2Sw(t)ɏ=ɏe–2⋅λ⋅1.1. ʐ˵ˋ˅˘ˊˣ˥, ˊ༤̀ ˣˁ˘༤˫˵˸ˋˆ˥ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘̀ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˘ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻ˢ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˥ ˣˁ˙˪˘ ˪ˁ˜˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ λ, ˦˧˘ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˢ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀ ε ˄˫ˊˋ˪ ˢ˘ˣ˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˥˙: İ = (e −2⋅Ȝ ⋅1,1 − 0,89) 2 → min . 19 ɲ˥༤˼˸˘ˣ˨˪˅˥ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ ˘ ˦˥˨˪˧˥ˋˣ˘ˋ ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˜˥˅ ˦˧˥˅˥ˊ˘༤˥˨˼ ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˨˘˨˪ˋˢ˻ MathCad. 20 ʇˁ˜ ˫ːˋ ˆ˥˅˥˧˘༤˥˨˼ ˅˻˸ˋ (˨ˣ˥˨˜ˁ 16), ˦˧˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˋ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ λ ˦˥ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˊ༤̀ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˋˆ˥ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˥˅˦ˁ༤˥ ˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ (0,16). ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˅˘ˊ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ N2Sw ˘ N'2Sw (˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁˢ˘) ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˁˋ˪ (˨ˢ. ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻ — ˪ˁˢ ːˋ: 267). 121

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

ʇˁ˜ ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˘˖ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˊ˘ˁˆ˧ˁˢˢ˻, ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊ ˜ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˨ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪˥ˢ λɏ=ɏ0,09 ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘༤ ˖ˁˢˋ˪ˣ˥ ˫ˢˋˣ˼˸˘˪˼ ˧ˁ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘ˋ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˘ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ˢ˘ 21. ɳ ˪˥ ːˋ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˊ༤̀ ˄˥༤˼˸˘ˣ˨˪˅ˁ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵ˋ˜ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜˘ ˦˥-˦˧ˋːˣˋˢ˫ ˥˜ˁ˖ˁ༤˘˨˼ ˢ˥༤˥ːˋ ˥ː˘ˊˁˋˢ˻˲. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˱˥˧ˢˁ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˜˧˘˅˥˙ ˫˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˊˁ༤˼ˣˋ˙˸ˁ̀ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˁ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˣˋ ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘˪ ˊ˥˄˘˪˼˨̀ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˫༤˫˵˸ˋˣ˘̀ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˥˅ ˅ ˨˘༤˫ ˦˧˘ˣ˴˘˦˘ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˣˋ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘̀ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˦˧˥˨˪˥˙ ˽˜˨˦˥ˣˋˣ˴˘ˁ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˼˿ ˘ ˥˄˹˘ˢ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧˥ˢ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘. ʑ˥˦˻˪˜ˁ ˦˧ˋ˥ˊ˥༤ˋ˪˼ ˽˪˥˪ ˨˫˹ˣ˥˨˪ˣ˻˙ ˣˋˊ˥˨˪ˁ˪˥˜ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˄˻༤ˁ ˥˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅༤ˋˣˁ ˅ ˧ˁˢ˜ˁ˲ ˫˨˥˅ˋ˧˸ˋˣ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˘ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ, ˜ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘˿ ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ˢ˻ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊ˘ˢ. 2.2. ɴ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ɳ ˧ˁ˄˥˪ˋ (Starostin 2000: 233–259) C. A. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ ˫˨˪ˁˣˁ˅༤˘˅ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥˙ ˦˧˘˵˘ˣ˥˙ ˣˋ˫ˊˁ˵ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˘ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˣˋ˅˻˦˥༤ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˊ˅˫˲ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻˲ ˦˥˨˪˫༤ˁ˪˥˅ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˥ ˦˥˨˪˥̀ˣˣ˥˙ ˨˜˥˧˥˨˪˘ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘˙ ˘ ˥ˊ˘ˣˁ˜˥˅˥˙ ˨˪ˁ˄˘༤˼ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥ˢ ˨˦˘˨˜ˋ. ɯˣˁ༤˘˖˘˧˫̀ ˜˥ˣ˜˧ˋ˪ˣ˻ˋ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧˻ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘, ˥ˣ ˦˧ˋˊ༤ˁˆˁˋ˪ ˅˅ˋ˨˪˘ ˅ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˫˿ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˫˿ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫ N Sw (t) = e − Ȝ ⋅t ˊ˅ˋ ˦˥˦˧ˁ˅˜˘: ˊʸ˖ˀʿ˕˴˳˭˟˳, ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣ˫˿ ˨ ˦˧˥̀˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˋ ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ˫˨˪˥˙˵˘˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ (λɏ=ɏλ·N(t)), ˘ ˟˜ː˙˛˴˳˭˟˳ — ˥˪˧ˁːˁ˿˹˫˿ «˫˨˪ˁ˧ˋ˅ˁˣ˘ˋ» ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ˘˅˸ˋ˙˨̀ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘, ˁ ˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ — ˫˨˜˥˧ˋˣ˘ˋ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˨˧ˋˊ˘ ˫˨˪ˁ˧ˋ˅˸˘˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ (λɏ=ɏλ·t). ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˅ ˥ˊˣ˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˋ ˊ˥༤ːˋˣ ˥˦˘˨˻˅ˁ˪˼˨̀ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˨༤˥ːˣ˻ˢ ˨˥˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘ˋˢ: N St (t) = e − Ȝ ⋅ N St ⋅t

2

ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ ˅˨༤ˋˊ ˖ˁ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˋˢ ˦˧˘ˣ˘ˢˁˋ˪ ˦˥˨˪˫༤ˁ˪ ˥ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅ 22, ˵˪˥ ˦˥˖˅˥༤̀ˋ˪ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁ˪˼ ˪ˁ˜˫˿ ːˋ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˫ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ — ˦˫˪ˋˢ ˅˥˖˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˻ ˅˥ ˅˪˥˧˫˿ ˨˪ˋ˦ˋˣ˼: N 2 St (t) = N St (t) 2 = e −2⋅Ȝ ⋅ N St ⋅t = e −2⋅Ȝ ⋅ 2

N 2 St ⋅ t 2

.

ɯ˦˧˥˄˘˧˫̀ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˫˿ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫ ˣˁ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ (˅ ˪˥ˢ ˵˘˨༤ˋ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥ˢ), ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤̀ˋ˪ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˜˥ˣ˨˪ˁˣ˪˫ λ, ˜˥˪˥˧ˁ̀ ˦˥ ˧ˁ˖ˣ˻ˢ ˦˥ˊ˨˵ˋ˪ˁˢ ˅ˁ˧˼˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˥˜˥༤˥ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˻ 0,05. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˜˥ˣˋ˵ˣˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ˊ༤̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˄˫ˊˋ˪ ˘ˢˋ˪˼ ˅˘ˊ: N 2 St (t) = e −2⋅0 , 05⋅

N 2 St ⋅ t 2

.

ʓ˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˜ˁ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˨ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˪˥˵˜ˁˢ˘ (˧˘˨. 5) ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˅˅ˋˊˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˥˦˧ˁ˅˥˜ ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘༤˥ ˊ˥˄˘˪˼˨̀ ˖ˣˁ˵˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ༤˫˵˸ˋˆ˥ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘̀ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˘ ˧ˁ˨˵ˌ˪ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜ˁˢ˘, ˦˧˘˵ˋˢ ˣˁ ˅˨ˋˢ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˥ˢ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣˋ. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˻ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘, ˣˁ˙ˊˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˣˁˢ˘ ˅ ˲˥ˊˋ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘, ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˣˋ ˥˪༤˘˵ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˥˪ ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ːˋˣˣ˻˲. ʕˁ˜, ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁ ˣˁ˘ˢˋˣ˼˸˘˲ ˜˅ˁˊ˧ˁ˪˥˅ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ λɏ=ɏ0,07 (˨ˢ. ˧˘˨. 6), ˄༤˘˖˜˘˙ ˜ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥ˢ˫ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˿ 0,05 23. ʐ˄ ˽˪˥ˢ ːˋ ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˻ ˨˫ˢˢˁ˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀, ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˋ ˫ˢˋˣ˼˸˘༤˥˨˼ ˨ εɏ=ɏ8,46 ˊ༤̀ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˊ˥ εɏ=ɏ0,76 ˊ༤̀ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˻. 22 ʓˢ. ˦. 2.1 ˅˻˸ˋ. 23 ʎˁ˄༤˿ˊˁˋˢ˥ˋ ˦˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˖ˁˢˋ˪ˣ˥ˋ ˫ˢˋˣ˼˸ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˫ˢˢˁ˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀ (˜˥˪˥˧˥ˋ ˨ˣ˘˖˘༤˥˨˼ ˨ 1,97 ˊ˥ 0,72 ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘), ˥˄˺̀˨ˣ̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˫˿ ˥˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˼ ˣˋ˧ˁ˅ˣ˻ˢ ˜˥༤˘˵ˋ˨˪˅˥ˢ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˅ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵˜ˁ˲. ʕˁ˜, ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻ˋ ˪˥˵˜˘ 7 ˘ 8 ˨˥ˊˋ˧ːˁ˪ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘̀ ˊ༤̀ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ 21

122

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 5. ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˨ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁˢ˘ λ: 2 N 2 St (t) = e −2⋅0, 05⋅ N 2 St ⋅t (εɏ=ɏ1,97) — ˘˨˲˥ˊˣˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ; −2⋅0,07 N 2 StC ⋅ t 2 (εɏ=ɏ0,72) — ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ; N 2 StC (t) = e 2 N′ 2 St (t) = e −2⋅0,11⋅ N′ 2 St ⋅t (εɏ=ɏ7,07) — ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˨ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪˥ˢ λ, ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˊ༤̀ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ. 1.1 N(t) 1

N2St

0.9 0.8 0.7

N2StC

N'2St

0.6 0.5 0.4 0.3

0

0.4

0.8 1.2 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

1.6

2

ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 6. ʒˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ λ, ˧ˁ˨˨˵˘˪ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˊ༤̀ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵ˋ˜ (˪ˁ˄༤. 1) ˦˥ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ. ʍˁ˪ˋˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˥ː˘ˊˁˣ˘ˋ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ λSt ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ 0,07; ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˧ˋˊˣˋˆ˥ ˜˅ˁˊ˧ˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀ σλɏ=ɏ0,013.

nλ 100

0.07

80 60 40 20 0

0

0.05

λSt

0.1

ʑ˧˘ˢˋ˵ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥, ˵˪˥ ˦˧˘ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˣˁ˙ˊˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻ 24 ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ λɏ=ɏ0,11, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˊ༤̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˦˥ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˊ༤̀ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ, ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˊˁːˋ ˲˫ːˋ, ˵ˋˢ ˅ ˨༤˫˵ˁˋ ˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˜˥ˣ˨˪ˁˣ˪˥˙ (0,05) — ˨ˢ. ˧˘˨. 5. ʨ˪˥ ˣˋ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘ˋ ˫˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˣˁ ˣˋ˜˥˧˧ˋ˜˪ˣ˥˨˪˼ 25 ˦˧˘ˢˋˣ̀ˋˢ˥˙ ˜ˁ˜ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˋˢ, ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ˻ˢ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˘ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊˁ ˥˪ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ˆ˥ ˊˋ˨̀˪˜˥˅ ˦ˁ˧ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˅ ˪˥ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˦˧ˋˊ˻ˊ˫˹ˋˋ — ˅˨ˋˆ˥ ˊ༤̀ ˥ˊˣ˥˙-ˊ˅˫˲ ˦ˁ˧. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˦˧˘ ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣ˘˘ ˨˫ˢˢˁ˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀, ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘ˋ ˜˧˘˅˥˙ ˦˥˨༤ˋˊˣ˘ˢ ˊ˅˫ˢ ˪˥˵˜ˁˢ ˘ˢˋˋ˪ ˆ˥˧ˁ˖ˊ˥ ˄˥༤˼˸˘˙ «˅ˋ˨», ˵ˋˢ ˅˨ˋˢ ˥˨˪ˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˢ ˅ˢˋ˨˪ˋ ˅˖̀˪˻ˢ. 24 ʓˢ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016: 268–269. 25 ʐ˵ˋ˅˘ˊˣ˥, ˅ ˦˧˥˪˘˅ˣ˥ˢ ˨༤˫˵ˁˋ ˣˁ˙ˊˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪˻ λ ˊ˥༤ːˣ˻ ˄˻༤˘ ˨˥˅˦ˁ˨˪˼ ˘༤˘ ˘ˢˋ˪˼ ˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀. 123

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁ ˜ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˘ ˪ˋˢ ˨ˁˢ˻ˢ ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˥ ˣˋ˅˻˦˥༤ˣˋˣ˘˘ ˦˥˨˪˫༤ˁ˪ˁ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˥ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅. ɳ ˨˅˥˿ ˥˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˼ ˥˪˜ˁ˖ ˥˪ ˪˧ˋ˪˼ˋˆ˥ ˦˥˨˪˫༤ˁ˪ˁ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪ ˜ ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˫˵˘˪˻˅ˁ˪˼ ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˅ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀. ʑ˧˘ˢˋ˧˥ˢ ˪ˁ˜˥ˆ˥ ˦˥ˊ˲˥ˊˁ ˜ ˥˦˘˨ˁˣ˘˿ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅ˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼, ˜˥˪˥˧˫˿ ˢ˻ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧˘ˢ ˊˁ༤ˋˋ.

2.3. ʑ˥˪˥˜˥˅ˁ̀ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ 26 ɳ ˥˪༤˘˵˘ˋ ˥˪ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˅˻˸ˋ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˘ ʓ.ɍɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅ˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ˄ˁ˖˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˣˁ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘˘, ˵˪˥ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘ˋ ˊ˅˫˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅ ˥˄༤ˁˊˁˋ˪ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˨˪˼˿, ˅ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪ˋ ˵ˋˆ˥ ˊˁːˋ ˨˦˫˨˪̀ ˖ˣˁ˵˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ˲ ˥˄˥˘˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˢ˥ˆ˫˪ ˖ˁˢˋˣ̀˪˼˨̀ ˥ˊˣ˘ ˘ ˪ˋ ːˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˅ ˜ˁːˊ˥ˢ ˘˖ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˅˻ˊˋ༤˘˪˼ ˊ˅ˋ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˹˘ˋ, ˥ˊˣˁ ˘˖ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ˢ, ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˅ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˅ ˥˄˥˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲, ˁ ˅˪˥˧ˁ̀ — ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˅ˁ˿˹ˋ˙˨̀ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ. ʑ˧˘˵ˋˢ ˅ ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˢ˥ˢˋˣ˪ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˅˨ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˄˫ˊ˫˪ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˅ˁ˪˼˨̀ ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨˥˅ˁˣˣ˥ (˪. ˋ. ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪˼˨̀ ˜ ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˹ˋ˙), ˁ ˅ ˲˥ˊˋ ˊˁ༤˼ˣˋ˙˸ˋˆ˥ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ — ˦˥˨˪ˋ˦ˋˣˣ˥ ˫˪˧ˁ˵˘˅ˁ˪˼ ˽˪˫ ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˨˪˼ ˘ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊ˘˪˼ ˅ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˫˿ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˹˫˿, ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ˘ ˄˫ˊˋ˪ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˥˅ˁ˪˼ ˨˥˄˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˅˫˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ 27. ɹ˨༤˘ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ː˘˪˼, ˵˪˥ ˫˄˻˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˹ˋ˙ ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ˘˪ ˽˜˨˦˥ˣˋˣ˴˘ˁ༤˼ˣ˥, ˁ ˨ˁˢ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ˣ˫˪˧˘ ˜ˁːˊ˥˙ ˘˖ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˹˘˲ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ˨˥˄˥˙ ˨˫ˢˢ˫ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅ 28 ˨༤˫˵ˁ˙ˣ˻˲ ˨˥˄˻˪˘˙, ˪˥ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤ˁ, ˥˦˘˨˻˅ˁ˿˹ˁ̀ ˥˄˹˘˙ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˊ˅˫ˢ̀ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘, ˦˧˘ˢˋ˪ ˅˘ˊ 29: · § ȝ Ș N 2 P (t) = c 0 + c1 ¨¨ ⋅ e − Șt + ⋅ e − ȝt ¸¸ , Ș− ȝ ¹ © ȝ− Ș

ˆˊˋ ˜˥ˣ˨˪ˁˣ˪˻ ˨0 ˘ ˨1 ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˪ ˜˥༤˘˵ˋ˨˪˅˫ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ˫˨˪˥˙˵˘˅˥˙ ˘ ˘˖ˢˋˣ̀˿˹ˋ˙˨̀ ˵ˁ˨˪̀˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅, ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ η ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤̀ˋ˪ ˨˜˥˧˥˨˪˼ ˦˥˪ˋ˧˼ ˅ ˘˖ˢˋˣ̀˿˹ˋ˙˨̀ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ, ˁ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ÷ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˦˥˜ˁ˖ˁ˪ˋ༤ˋˢ ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˋˆ˥ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˙ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˹ˋ˙. ʎˁ ˅˨̀˜˘˙ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˙ ˦˥ˊ˵ˋ˧˜ˣˋˢ, ˵˪˥ ˥˄˨˫ːˊˁˋˢˁ̀ ˣ˘ːˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˗ˀ ˌʿˀ˗˞ˌ˩˗ʸ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘, ˥˦˘˨˻˅ˁ˿˹ˋ˙ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˘ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻ (ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016: 269–270). ʃ˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˪ˋ˧ˢ˘ˣˁ «˦˥˪˥˜˥˅ˁ̀» ˦˧˘ˢˋˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˜ ˥˄ˋ˘ˢ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤̀ˢ ˥˪˧ˁːˁˋ˪ ˪˥˪ ˱ˁ˜˪, ˵˪˥ ˅ ˘˲ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ༤ˋː˘˪ ˥ˊˣ˥ ˘ ˪˥ ːˋ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˥ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˋ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ˜ˁ˜ ˥ ˨˥˅˥˜˫˦ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅ ˧ˋˊ˜˘˲ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˙ˣ˻˲ ˨˥˄˻˪˘˙, ˜ˁːˊ˥ˋ ˦˥˨༤ˋˊ˫˿˹ˋˋ ˘˖ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˣˋ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘˪ ˥˪ ˦˧ˋˊ˻ˊ˫˹ˋˆ˥. ʎˋ˨ˢ˥˪˧̀ ˣˁ ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧, ˊˁˣˣ˥ˋ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˘ˢˋˋ˪ ˧̀ˊ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˨༤ˋˊ˨˪˅˘˙, ˣˋ˦˥˨˧ˋˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˅༤˘̀˿˹˘˲ ˣˁ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˘ ˨ˁˢ˫ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˫ ˦˧˥˅˥ˊ˘ˢ˥ˆ˥ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀. ɳ ˵ˁ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣˁ̀ ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˁ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˘ ˣˁˊˋːˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙, ˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˘˪˨̀ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˙ ˄༤ˁˆ˥ˊˁ˧̀ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ˢ ˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˨˅˥˙˨˪˅ˁˢ ˨˪ˁ˴˘˥ˣˁ˧ˣ˻˲ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅, ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˻˲ ˦˧˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘. 27 ɲ˥༤ˋˋ ˦˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣ˥ˋ ˥˦˘˨ˁˣ˘ˋ ˘ ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˥˄˥˨ˣ˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˨˥ˊˋ˧ː˘˪˨̀ ˅ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ˘༤˘˪ˁ˧ˋ˅ 2008: 523–529. 28 ʇˁːˊ˻˙ ˘˖ ˪ˁ˜˘˲ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨˫ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘˖ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ. 29 ʑ˥༤ˣ˻˙ ˅˻˅˥ˊ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˻ ˊˁˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ʑ˧˘༤˥ːˋˣ˘˘ ˜ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ (ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ˘༤˘˪ˁ˧ˋ˅ 2008: 535–536). ʐ˨˥˄˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧ˋ˨ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ˨˥ˊˋ˧ːˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ ˽˪˥˙ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˻ ˘, ˅ ˵ˁ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˅˥˦˧˥˨ ˨˥˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘̀ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ η ˘ μ, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊˁ ˜ ˫˦˧˥˹ˋˣˣ˥ˢ˫ ˅˘ˊ˫ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˻ ˦˧˘ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˅ˋˣ˨˪˅ˋ (ηɏ=ɏμ). ʐ˄˨˫ːˊˋˣ˘ˋ ˽˪˘˲ ˥˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥˨˪ˋ˙ ˪˧ˋ˄˫ˋ˪ ˥˪ˊˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˦˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘̀, ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˋ, ˜ ˨˥ːˁ༤ˋˣ˘˿, ˅˻˲˥ˊ˘˪ ˖ˁ ˧ˁˢ˜˘ ˣˁ˨˪˥̀˹ˋ˙ ˨˪ˁ˪˼˘. 26

124

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ʑ˫˪ˋˢ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˦˥ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˄˻༤˘ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣ˻ ˨༤ˋˊ˫˿˹˘ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅30: ˨0ɏ=ɏ0,000; ˨1ɏ=ɏ 1,000; ηɏ=ɏ0,612 31; ÷ɏ=ɏ0,611. ʑ˧˘ ˦˥ˊ˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˜ˋ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥ˋ ˅˻˧ˁːˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼:

(

)

N 2 P (t) = 0,000 + 1,000 ⋅ 1297 ⋅ e −0,612 t − 1296 ⋅ e −0,611t ,

˜˥˪˥˧ˁ̀ ˅ ˨˘༤˫ ˄༤˘˖˥˨˪˘ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ΢ɏ ˘ ɏ÷ɏÌɏ0,61 ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˄˻˪˼ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˁ ˅ ˫˦˧˥˹ˌˣˣ˥˙ ˱˥˧ˢˋ: N 2 P (t) = ɟ −0, 61 t (1 + 0,61 t) .

ɴ˧ˁ˱˘˜ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ (˧˘˨. 7) ˣˁˆ༤̀ˊˣ˥ ˊˋˢ˥ˣ˨˪˧˘˧˫ˋ˪ ˲˥˧˥˸ˋˋ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘ˋ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ˘ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˣˁ ˅˨ˋˢ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˋ 32.

ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 7. ʓ˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘ˋ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ: N 2 P (t) = ɟ −0, 61 t (1 + 0,61 t) ; εɏ=ɏ0,54. 1.1 N(t) 1 0.9 0.8

N2P

0.7 0.6 0.5 0.4 0.3

0

0.4

0.8 1.2 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

1.6

2

ʎˁ˦˥ˢˣ˘ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˁ ˅˨ˋ˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˦˧˥˘˖˅˥ˊ˘༤ˁ˨˼ ˪˘˦˥˅˻ˢ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥ˢ ˣˁ˘ˢˋˣ˼˸˘˲ ˜˅ˁˊ˧ˁ˪˥˅ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘˙, ˨ˢ. ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˨ˣ˥˨˜˫ 18. 31 ʒˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ η, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˅ ˲˥ˊˋ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘, ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˥ ˣˁ ˧˘˨. 8. ʐ˪ˢˋ˪˘ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˣˁ˙ˊˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ η (0,61) ˣˋ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˁˋ˪ ˨ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˢ ˧ˁˣˋˋ (0,45) ˣˁ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ, ˅˜༤˿˵ˁ˿˹ˋˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻˲ ˨ˋˢˋ˙ (˨ˢ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ˘༤˘˪ˁ˧ˋ˅ 2008: 529). ʎˋ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘ˋ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ༤˘˸ˣ˘˙ ˧ˁ˖ ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˻ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˅ ˖ˣˁ˵˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˢˋ˧ˋ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤̀˿˪˨̀ ˣˁ˄˥˧˥ˢ ˘ ˜ˁ˵ˋ˨˪˅˥ˢ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲, ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˻˲ ˦˧˘ ˘˲ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˋ. ʑ˥˽˪˥ˢ˫ ˦˧˘ ˦˥˘˨˜ˋ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˥˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥ ˅ˁːˣ˥ ˦˧˘˅༤ˋ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˢˁ˜˨˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˸˘˧˥˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˁ, ˜ˁ˜ ˨ ˪˥˵˜˘ ˖˧ˋˣ˘̀ ˆˋ˥ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˥˲˅ˁ˪ˁ, ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥˙ ˆ༤˫˄˘ˣ˻. 32 ɳ˘ˊ˘ˢˁ̀ ˣˋ˧ˁ˅ˣ˥ˢˋ˧ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˧ˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵ˋ˜ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˜˧˘˅˥˙ ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˁ ˨ ˣˋ˧ˁ˅ˣ˥ˢˋ˧ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ ˧ˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲. ʇˁ˜ ˫ːˋ ˥˪ˢˋ˵ˁ༤˥˨˼ ˅˻˸ˋ, ˣˁ˘˄˥༤˼˸˘ˢ ˅ˋ˨˥ˢ ˥˄༤ˁˊˁ˿˪ ˊ˅ˋ ˜˧ˁ˙ˣ˘ˋ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻ˋ ˪˥˵˜˘ ̘̘7 ˘ 8 (˨ˢ. ˪ˁ˄༤. 1 ˘ ˨˨˻༤˜˫ 23), ˦˥˽˪˥ˢ˫ ˅ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪ˋ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥ˢ ˣˁ˘ˢˋˣ˼˸˘˲ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘˙ ˘ˢˋˣˣ˥ ˥ˣ˘ ˆ༤ˁ˅ˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤̀˿˪ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ༤ˋˆ˜˥ ˫˄ˋˊ˘˪˼˨̀, ˵˪˥ ˫˜ˁ˖ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˪˥˵˜˘ ˧ˁ˨˦˥༤˥ː˘༤˘˨˼ ˨˘ˢˢˋ˪˧˘˵ˣ˥ ˦˥ ˥˄ˋ ˨˪˥˧˥ˣ˻ ˧ˁ˨˵ˌ˪ˣ˥˙ ˜˧˘˅˥˙ N2P. 30

125

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 8. ʒˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ ΢, ˧ˁ˨˨˵˘˪ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˦˥ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻ˢ ˪˥˵˜ˁˢ (˪ˁ˄༤. 1) ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘. ʑ˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˢˁ˪ˋˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˥ː˘ˊˁˣ˘ˋ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˻ ΢ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ 0,61; ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˧ˋˊˣˋˆ˥ ˜˅ˁˊ˧ˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀ σ΢ɏ=ɏ0,065.

120

0.61

nη 90 60 30 0

0.4

0.6 η

0.8

ʁˁ˅ˋ˧˸˘˅ ˦˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣ˥ˋ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘ˋ ˜ˁːˊ˥˙ ˘˖ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙, ˦ˋ˧ˋ˙ˊˋˢ ˪ˋ˦ˋ˧˼ ˜ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘˿ ˘ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖˫ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˥˅. 2.4. ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˘ ˘˲ ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˁ ʓ˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˄˫ˊˋˢ ˦˧˥˘˖˅˥ˊ˘˪˼ ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˜˥˅, ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˣˁ ˧˘˨. 9 (ˁ, ˄, ˅), ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˘˲ ˵˘˨༤˥˅˻˲ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅, ˦˧˘˅ˋˊˋˣˣ˻˲ ˅ ˪ˁ˄༤. 2. ɳ ˦ˋ˧˅˫˿ ˥˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˼ ˥˪ˢˋ˪˘ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˁ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˻ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ (N2Sw) ˜ˁ˜ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˹ˋ˙, ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˣˋ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪ ˜ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˢ˫ ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵ˋˣ˘˿ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜, ˵˪˥, ˜ˁ˜ ˫ːˋ ˆ˥˅˥˧˘༤˥˨˼ ˅˻˸ˋ, ˅˻˖˅ˁˣ˥ ˣˋ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘ˋˢ ˽˜˨˦˥ˣˋˣ˴˘ˁ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧˫ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˦˧˘ ˧ˁ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘˘ ˊ˅˫˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅. ʕˁ˜, ˦˧˘ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˨ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪˥ˢ λSwCɏ=ɏ0,09 ˢ˻ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˦˧ˁ˅ˊ˥˦˥ˊ˥˄ˣ˻ˋ ˊˁ˪˻ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ༤̀ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ 1500–1700 ༤ˋ˪ ˘ ˨˘༤˼ˣ˥ ˖ˁˣ˘ːˋˣˣ˻ˋ (˘༤˘ ˣˁ˥˄˥˧˥˪ — ˖ˁ˅˻˸ˋˣˣ˻ˋ) ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˖ˁ ˋˆ˥ ˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˁˢ˘. ɴ˥˧ˁ˖ˊ˥ ༤˫˵˸˘ˋ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˊˋˢ˥ˣ˨˪˧˘˧˫ˋ˪ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ (N2St), ˜˥˪˥˧ˁ̀, ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˥˪˜ˁ˖ˁ ˥˪ ˊ˅˫˲ ˦˥˨˪˫༤ˁ˪˥˅ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˘ ˅ˣˋ˨ˋˣ˘̀ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹˘˲ ˦˥˦˧ˁ˅˥˜ ˅ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˫˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘, ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘༤ˁ ˊ˥˄˘˪˼˨̀ ˲˥˧˥˸ˋˆ˥ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘̀ ˨ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˪˥˵˜ˁˢ˘ ˣˁ ˅˨ˋˢ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˥ˢ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˥˪˧ˋ˖˜ˋ. ʑ˧˘˵ˌˢ ˥˦˪˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪ˁ λStC (0,07), ˣˁ˙ˊˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˅ ˲˥ˊˋ ˦˥ˊ˄˥˧ˁ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˦˥ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ, ˥˜ˁ˖ˁ༤˥˨˼ ˥˵ˋˣ˼ ˄༤˘˖˜˥ ˜ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˥ˢ˫ (0,05) — ˨ˢ. ˧˘˨. 9ˁ,˅ ˘ ˪ˁ˄༤. 2. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ λStC ˖ˁˢˋ˪ˣ˥ ˥˪༤˘˵ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˥˪ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˦˧˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˦˥ ˪ˋˢ ːˋ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ, ˣ˥ ˊ༤̀ ˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ (λ'StCɏ=ɏ0,11) (˧˘˨. 9˄). ʐ˄ˣˁ˧˫ːˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˣˋ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘ˋ ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘ ˣˋ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˄˻˪˼ ˨ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘˧˥˅ˁˣ ˣˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ˊ˅˫˲ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˻˲ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨˥˅ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ ˜ˁːˊ˥ˆ˥ ˘˖ ˣ˘˲ 33 ˘, ˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥, ˫˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˣˁ ˣˋ˨˥˨˪˥̀˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˥˨˪˫༤ˁ˪ˁ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˥ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀. ʐ˪˜ˁ˖ ˥˪ ˦˧˘ˣ˴˘˦ˁ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˨˥˖ˊˁˋ˪ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥˨˻༤˜˫ ˊ༤̀ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊˁ ˜ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘, ˜˥˪˥˧ˁ̀ ˢ˥ˆ༤ˁ ˄˻ ˫˵˘˪˻˅ˁ˪˼ ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤˘˅˸˘˲˨̀ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁ˲. 33 ʠ˪˥ ˦˥ˊ˧ˁ˖˫ˢˋ˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˥˙ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˘ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˦˧˘ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣ˘˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˘˖ ˥˄˹ˋ˙ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˻ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘.

126

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ɸˁˣˣ˻˙ ˦˥ˊ˲˥ˊ ˄˻༤ ˧ˋˁ༤˘˖˥˅ˁˣ ˦˧˘ ˦˥˨˪˧˥ˋˣ˘˘ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ (N2P), ˽˱˱ˋ˜˪˘˅ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ˦˧˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁˋ˪˨̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ (˧˘˨. 9˅), ˪ˁ˜ ˘ ˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˥ — ˣˁ˘ˢˋˣ˼˸ˋ˙ (˦˥ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘˿ ˨ ˥˨˪ˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤̀ˢ˘ 34) ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˥˙ ˨˫ˢˢˁ˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘̀ εPɏ=ɏ0,54 (˨ˢ. ˪ˁ˄༤. 2). ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 9. ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ, ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˘ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙. 1.1 N(t) 1

1.1 N(t) 1

N2St

0.9

0.9

0.8

0.8

0.7

0.7

N2Sw

0.6

0.6

0.5

0.5

0.4

0.4

0.3

N'2St(t)

0

0.4

0.8 1.2 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

1.6

0.3

2

ˁ) ʃ˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ (N2Sw) ˘ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ (N2St)

N'2Sw(t)

0

0.4

0.8 1.2 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

1.6

2

˄) ʍ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ (N'2Sw) ˘ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ (N'2St) ˨ ˜˥˽˱˱˘˴˘ˋˣ˪˥ˢ λ, ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ ˥ˊˣ˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˋ

1.1

N(t) 1

N2StC

0.9 0.8

N2SwC

N2P

0.7 0.6

0

0.4

0.8 1.2 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

1.6

2

˅) ʇˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˦˥ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ (N2Swʎ), ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ (N2Stʎ) ˘ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅ˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ (N2P).

ʕˋˢ ˣˋ ˢˋˣˋˋ, ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ, ˣˋ˨ˢ˥˪˧̀ ˣˁ ˅˻̀˅༤ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˣˋˊ˥˨˪ˁ˪˜˘, ˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˥ ˊˁˌ˪ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀, ˦˥˵˪˘ ˘ˊˋˣ˪˘˵ˣ˻ˋ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˣˁ ˄˥༤˼˸ˋ˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ (˨˧. ˜˧˘˅˻ˋ N2Swʎ ˘ N2P ˣˁ ˧˘˨.9˅), ˵˪˥ ˦˥˖˅˥༤̀ˋ˪ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁ˪˼ ˋˌ ˊ༤̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ (˦˥ ˜˧ˁ˙ˣˋ˙ ˢˋ˧ˋ — ˅ ˧ˁˢ˜ˁ˲ ˫˜ˁ˖ˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘). 34

127

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

ʐʸʺ˕ˌ˨ʸ 2. ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˘ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ʎˁ˖˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˘ ˥˄˹˘˙ ˅˘ˊ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʍ˥ˊˋ༤˼

N 2 Sw (t) = e −2⋅λ⋅t

ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ʍ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ʑ˥˪˥˜˥˅ˁ̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼

N 2 St (t) = e −2⋅λ⋅

N 2 St ⋅ t 2

ʃ˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˋ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˻ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘

ʑˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˻, ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ ˥ˊˣ˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˋ

ʑˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˻, ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˦˥ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘

λSwɍ=ɏ 0,16 (εSwɏ=ɏ8,46)

λ'Swɍ=ɏ 0,16 (εSwɏ=ɏ8,46)

λSwCɍ=ɏ0,09 (εSwɏ=ɏ 0,76)

λStCɍ=ɏ 0,05 (εStɏ=ɏ1,97)

λ'StCɍ=ɏ 0,11 (εStɏ=ɏ7,07)

λStCɍ=ɏ0,07 (εStɏ=ɏ0,72)

N 2 P (t) = ɟ − η t (1 + η t)

ηɏ=ɏ0,61 (εPɏ=ɏ0,54)

—

ʁˁ˅ˋ˧˸˘˅ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˫˿˹˘˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˘ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˘˅ ˘˲ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˋ ˥˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥˨˪˘, ˢ˻ ˢ˥ːˋˢ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˙˪˘ ˜ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˘ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˘˲ ˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˊ˥˨˪˥˅ˋ˧ˣ˥˨˪˘. 3. ʌ˙ʼ˛ˀˬ˗˙˜˞ˌ ˌ ʿ˙˜˞˙ʻˀ˛˗˙˜˞˰ ʼໞ˙˞˞˙˦˛˙˗˙ໞ˙ʼˌ˩ˀ˜ːˌ˦ ʿʸ˞ˌ˛˙ʻ˙ː ʐ˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪ˋ˙, ˅˥˖ˣ˘˜ˁ˿˹˘˲ ˦˧˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˁ˲, ˣˁ˵ˣˌˢ ˨ ˥˴ˋˣ˜˘ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˁ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲, ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ˥˵ˋ˅˘ˊˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˘ ˄˫ˊ˫˪ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤̀˪˼ ˢ˘ˣ˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˫˿ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˣˁ˸˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ (ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, 2010: 538; ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʇ˥ˆˁˣ: 2013: 156–159). ɸ༤̀ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ˅˥˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˨̀ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˘˖ ˪ˁ˄༤. 1, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˊ˘ˁˆ˧ˁˢˢ˥˙ (˧˘˨. 10ˁ), ˣˁ ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˲ˣ̀̀ ˘ ˣ˘ːˣ̀̀ ˜˧˘˅˻ˋ ˨˥ˋˊ˘ˣ̀˿˪ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˢˁ˜˨˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˘ ˢ˘ˣ˘ˢˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪˥˅ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙, ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˜ˁːˊ˥˙ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˥˙ ˪˥˵˜˘, ˁ ˨˧ˋˊˣ̀̀ ༤˘ˣ˘̀ ˥˪˧ˁːˁˋ˪ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ (N2P). ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˅ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘˘ ˨ ˪ˁ˄༤. 1, ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤˘˅˸˘˲˨̀ 1520 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ (˪˥˵˜ˁ 7), ˅ˁ˧˼˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˁ˲ ˥˪ 69 ˊ˥ 85ɏ% (ΔNɏ=ɏ16ɏ%). ɹ˹ˋ ˄˥༤˼˸˘˙ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ ˊ˥༤ˋ˙ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ (ΔNɏ=ɏ17ɏ%) ˢ˻ ˣˁ˄༤˿ˊˁˋˢ ˊ༤̀ ˊˁ˪˻ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ 1730 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ (˪˥˵˜ˁ 8) — ˥˪ 61 ˊ˥ 78ɏ%. ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 10

N(t)

1.1 1

1.1 N(t) 1

0.9

0.9

0.8

0.8

0.7

0.7

0.6

0.6

0.5

0.5

0.4

0.4

0.3

0

0.5

1

1.5 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

2

2.5

3

ʸ) ˘༤༤˿˨˪˧ˁ˴˘̀ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˁ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊ˥༤ˋ˙ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˦˥ ˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘˿ ˜ ˧ˁ˨˵ˌ˪ˣ˻ˢ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ˢ N(t), ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˥ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ N2P 128

0.3

0,8

0

0.5

1,05 1

1,35 1,75 1.5 2

2.5

3 t, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

2Δt௘=௘0,7 ʺ) ˘༤༤˿˨˪˧ˁ˴˘̀ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˁ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜ ˦˥ ˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘˿ ˜ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻ˢ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ˢ t, ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˥ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ N2P

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ɯˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˥ ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˊ˘ˁˆ˧ˁˢˢ˻ ˣˁ ˧˘˨. 10˄ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˥˴ˋˣ˘˪˼ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜, ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˊ༤̀ ˅˻˄˧ˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ˁ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ (N). ʕˁ˜, ˦˥ˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀̀ ˅ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫ N2P(t) ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ Nɏ=ɏ0,8 (80ɏ%), ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˫˿ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜˫ tɏ=ɏ1350 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ, ˜ˁ˜ ˅˘ˊˣ˥ ˣˁ ˧˘˨˫ˣ˜ˋ, ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˢ˥ˆ༤˥ ˦˧˥˘˖˥˙˪˘ ˅ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣˋ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˥˪ 1050 ˊ˥ 1750 ˆ˥ˊˁ — ˪. ˋ. ˨ ˧ˁ˖ˣ˘˴ˋ˙ ˅ 700 ༤ˋ˪. ʨ˪˥ ˥˖ˣˁ˵ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˣˁ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˜ˋ ˊˁ˪ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˣˋ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˄˻˪˼ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣˁ ˪˥˵ˣˋˋ, ˵ˋˢ ˅ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣˋ 1350±350 ༤ˋ˪. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ (˅ˣˋ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˥˪ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙) ˅ˣ˥˨˘˪ ˣˋ˘˖˄ˋːˣ˫˿ ˘ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˫˿ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˅ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ༤˿˄˻˲ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ 35. ɳˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˫ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅༤ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˥ʸː˞ˌ˩ˀ˜ː˙ˍ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˨˥ ˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧˥ˢ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˖ˁˢˋˣ, ˦˥༤ˋ˖ˣ˥ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅˘˪˼ ˨ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ ˞ˀ˙˛ˀ˞ˌ˩ˀ˜ː˙ˍ, ˥˄˫˨༤˥˅༤ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˥˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥˨˪̀ˢ˘ ˨ˁˢ˘˲ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙. ʍˋ˧˥˙ ˽˪˥˙ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˦˧˘ˢˋˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˜ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘, ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ʿ˙ʻˀ˛ˌ˞ˀ˕˰˗˙ʼ˙ ˌ˗˞ˀ˛ʻʸ˕ʸ, ˥˦˘˨ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˣˁˢ˘ ˧ˁˣˋˋ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ (ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ 2016: 274–275) 36. ɳ ˵ˁ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤, ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˊ༤̀ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˆ˥ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ˁ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙, ˦˥˖˅˥༤̀ˋ˪ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤˘˪˼ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥˙ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣ, ˅ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˙ ˨ ˖ˁˊˁˣˣ˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ ˫˜༤ˁˊ˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣˁ̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜ˁ. ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 11. ɸ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ N 2 P (t) = ɟ −0, 61 t (1 + 0,61 t) , ˧ˁ˨˨˵˘˪ˁˣˣ˻˙ ˊ༤̀ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ ˨ ˖ˁˊˁˣˣ˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ pɏ=ɏ0,7. 1.1 N(t) 1

N2P

n௘=௘110 p௘=௘0,7

0.9 0.8

0,8

0.7 0.6 0.5 0.4 0.3

0

0,95 0.5 1

1,35 1,75 1.5 2

2.5

3 t, ɬɵɫ. ɥɟɬ

2Δt௘=௘0,8

ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˊ༤̀ ˊ˥༤˘ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ 80ɏ% ˘ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹ˋ˙ ˋˢ˫ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˥˙ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜˘ 1350 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ, ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ 800 ༤ˋ˪ (˧˘˨. 11) — ˪. ˋ. ˘˨˜˥ˢˁ̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜ˁ ˨ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ 0,7 37 ˄˫ˊˋ˪ ˧ˁ˨˦˥༤ˁˆˁ˪˼˨̀ ˅ ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣˋ 1350ɏ±ɏ400 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ. ʇˁ˜ ˅˘ˊˣ˥ ˣˁ ˧˘˨. 11 ˘ 12, ˨ ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥˙ ˊ˘˨˪ˁˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵˘˅ˁˋ˪˨̀, ˥ˊˣˁ˜˥ ˅ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ˣ˥ˢ ˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘˘ ˋˆ˥ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˫˄˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˦˥ ʑ˧˘˵˘ˣ˥˙ ˪ˁ˜˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˁ, ˜ˁ˜ ˫ːˋ ˆ˥˅˥˧˘༤˥˨˼ ˅˻˸ˋ, ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀, ˨ ˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˨˪˥˧˥ˣ˻ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˙ˣˁ̀ ˦˧˘˧˥ˊˁ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˥ˆ˥ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ (˨ˢ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ɴ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ, 2014: 60), ˁ ˨ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥˙ — ˣˋ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˼ ˁ˄˨˥༤˿˪ˣ˥ ˊ˥˨˪˥˅ˋ˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵ˋ˜ ˦˥ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ˢ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˨˥˄˻˪˘̀ˢ. 36 ʍˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜ˁ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤˥˅ ˊ༤̀ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˁˣˁ ˣˁ ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣ˘˘ ˦༤˥˪ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˧ˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪ˋ˙ ˦ˋ˧˅˻˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ˲ ˜ˁːˊ˥ˆ˥ ˘˖ ̀˖˻˜˥˅-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅ (ɳˋˣ˪˴ˋ༤˼, ʐ˅˵ˁ˧˥˅ 1969: 235–237). 37 ʕ. ˋ. ˅ 70 ˨༤˫˵ˁ̀˲ ˘˖ 100. 35

129

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

ˢˋ˧ˋ ˫ˆ༤˫˄༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜ (˪ˁ˄༤. 3). ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˅ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘˘ ˨ ˪ˁ˄༤˘˴ˋ˙ 3, ˦˧˘ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˥˙ ˊˁ˪ˋ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ 1000 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ±350 ༤ˋ˪ (˪. ˋ. ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˥ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˨ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ 0,7 ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁ˪˼˨̀ ˥˪ 650 ˊ˥ 1350 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ). ɯˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˥ ˊ༤̀ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ 3500 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ±730 ༤ˋ˪. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˁ˄˨˥༤˿˪ˣˁ̀ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˅˻˧˥˨༤ˁ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˵ˋˢ ˅ ˊ˅ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˁ (˥˪ ±350 ˊ˥ ±730 ༤ˋ˪), ˅ ˪˥ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˜ˁ˜ ˋˆ˥ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨ˣ˘˖˘༤˥˨˼ ˨ 35ɏ% ˊ˥ 21ɏ% (˪ˁ˄༤. 3). ʨ˪˥ ˥˖ˣˁ˵ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥, ˣˋ˨ˢ˥˪˧̀ ˣˁ ˫ˢˋˣ˼˸ˋˣ˘ˋ ˁ˄˨˥༤˿˪ˣ˥˙ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘, ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˴ˋˣˣ˥˨˪˼ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜ ˄˫ˊˋ˪ ˖ˁˢˋ˪ˣ˥ ˅˻˸ˋ ˦˧˘ ˄˥џ༤˼˸˘˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ˲. ʐʸʺ˕ˌ˨ʸ 3. ʁˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ, ˧ˁ˨˨˵˘˪ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ N2P ˨ ˖ˁˊˁˣˣ˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ 0,7 38 t, ˕ˀ˞

200

400

600

800

1000

1200

1400

1600

1800

2000

2500

3000

3500

4000

Δt, ˕ˀ˞

±150

±220

±270

±310

±350

±390

±420

±450

±480

±510

±590

±660

±730

±790

100Δt/t

75ɏ%

55ɏ%

45ɏ%

39ɏ%

35ɏ%

32ɏ%

30ɏ%

28ɏ%

27ɏ%

26ɏ%

24ɏ%

22ɏ%

21ɏ%

20ɏ%

ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 12. ʃ˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˻ 70-˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ (Δt) ˅ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˥˪ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ (t) ˊ༤̀ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ

Δt, ɬɵɫ.ɥɟɬ

0.8 0.7 0.6 0.5 0.4

n௘=௘110 p௘=௘0,7

0.3 0.2 0.1 0

0

0.5

1

1.5

2

2.5

t, ɬɵɫ. ɥɟɬ

3

3.5

4

ʑ˥༤˼˖˫̀˨˼ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅༤ˋˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˨˅˥˙˨˪˅ˁˢ˘ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘, ˢ˻ ˢ˥ːˋˢ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤˘˪˼ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˼ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˻ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˥˪ ˜˥༤˘˵ˋ˨˪˅ˁ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ˲ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ʒˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˦˧˥˅ˋˊˋˣˣ˻˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˻ ˅ ˅˘ˊˋ ˆ˧ˁ˱˘˜ˁ ˣˁ ˧˘˨. 13. ʕˁ˜, ˦˧˘ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˊ˅˫˲˨˥˪˨༤˥˅ˣ˻˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ˊ༤̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˅˫˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˨ ˊ˥༤ˋ˙ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ 0,8 ˢ˻ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˊˁ˪˫ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ 1350 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ ˨ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˢ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤˥ˢ ±200 ༤ˋ˪ (˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˼ 15ɏ%). ʑ˧˘ ˫ˢˋˣ˼˸ˋˣ˘˘ ˧ˁ˖ˢˋ˧ˁ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ ˊ˥ 110 ˨༤˥˅ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵˘˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˊ˥ ±400 ༤ˋ˪ (30ɏ%), ˁ ˅ ˨༤˫˵ˁˋ ˨ ˦̀˪˘ˊˋ˨̀˪˘˨༤˥˅ˣ˻ˢ ˨˦˘˨˜˥ˢ ˊ˥˨˪˘ˆˁˋ˪ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ±1000 ༤ˋ˪ (74ɏ%!). 38 ɳˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˥˵ˋ˅˘ˊˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘˪ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˥˪ ˅˻˄˧ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˘. ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˦˧˘ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˘ 0,95, ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵ˁ˪˨̀ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧ˣ˥ ˅ ˊ˅ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˁ.

130

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 13. ʃ˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˸˘˧˘ˣ˻ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ (Δt) ˅ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˥˪ ˵˘˨༤ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ (n) ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ˲ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ (ˊ༤̀ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ tɏ=ɏ1350 ༤ˋ˪)

Δt, 1200 ɥɟɬ

1000

p௘=௘0,7 N௘=௘0,8 t=௘1350 ɥɟɬ

800 600 400 200 0 50

110 75

100

n

150

175

200

ʑ˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣˁ̀ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˼ Δt(n) ˫˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˣˁ ˄ˋ˨˦ˋ˧˨˦ˋ˜˪˘˅ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˊ༤̀ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ˁ ˜˥˧˥˪˜˘˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅, ˵˪˥, ˥ˊˣˁ˜˥, ˣˋ ˫ˢˁ༤̀ˋ˪ ˦˥༤ˋ˖ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˽˪˘˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ˦˧˘ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅༤ˋˣ˘˘ ˆˋˣˋˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˨˅̀˖ˋ˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘. ʓ˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀̀ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˨˥˄˥˙ ˧˘˨. 10 ˘ 11, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˣˁˢ˘ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀, ˣˋ˨༤˥ːˣ˥ ˫˄ˋˊ˘˪˼˨̀ ˅ ˪˥ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ (˦˧˘ ˅˻˄˧ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˘ 0,7) ༤˘˸˼ ˣˋ˖ˣˁ˵˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˦˧ˋ˅˻˸ˁˋ˪ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ ˣˁ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˥ˢ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˋ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘. ʓ༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥, ˢ˻ ˢ˥ːˋˢ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ː˘˪˼, ˵˪˥ ˧ˋ˸ˁ˿˹ˋˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˧˘ ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˋ ˥˄˹ˋ˙ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜ ˄˫ˊˋ˪ ˘ˢˋ˪˼ ˘ˢˋˣˣ˥ ˽˪ˁ ˥˄˺ˋ˜˪˘˅ˣˁ̀ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˼. ʑ˧˥˅ˋ˧˘ˢ ˨˦˧ˁ˅ˋˊ༤˘˅˥˨˪˼ ˣˁ˸ˋˆ˥ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘̀ ˣˁ ˜˥ˣ˜˧ˋ˪ˣ˻˲ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧ˁ˲ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˢˋːˊ˫ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˢ˘ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘. ɳ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˪ˁ˄༤. 4 ˦˧˘˅ˋˊˋˣ˻ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ ˦ˁ˧ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˨ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ː˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˊˁ˪˥˙ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ 480 ˆ. ˣ.˽. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˨˧ˋˊˣ˘˙ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˘˲ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘ ˅ˁ˧˼˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˥˪ 75ɏ% (ˢˋːˊ˫ ˦˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘ˢ ˘ ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ˘) ˊ˥ 87ɏ% (ˢˋːˊ˫ ˱˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘ˢ ˘ ༤˘ˆ˫˧˘˙˨˜˘ˢ˘). ʒˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻ˋ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜˘, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˽˪˘˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˨ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˿˪ 410 ˘ 960 ˆ. ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˊ˘ˁ˦ˁ˖˥ˣ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˁ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˊ༤̀ ˅˨ˋ˙ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻ ˘˖ 14-˪˘ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅˘༤ 550 ༤ˋ˪ (˘༤˘ ±275 ༤ˋ˪), ˵˪˥ ˨ ˖ˁ˦ˁ˨˥ˢ «˫˜༤ˁˊ˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀» ˅ ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ±415 ༤ˋ˪, ˅˻˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˊ༤̀ ˨˧ˋˊˣˋˆ˥ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ Nɏ=ɏ78,5 (˨ˢ. ˪ˁ˄༤. 1) ˘ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˘ pɏ=ɏ0,7. ʑ˧˘ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘˘ ˥˪ˊˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˦ˁ˧ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ (˨ˢ. ˅˻ˊˋ༤ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˨˪˧˥˜˘ ˪ˁ˄༤. 4) ˅ 3-˲ ˨༤˫˵ˁ̀˲ ˘˖ 14-˪˘, (˪. ˋ. ˅ 22ɏ% ˨༤˫˵ˁˋ˅) ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪ ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊˁ ˥˪ ˧ˁ˨˵ˌ˪ˣ˻˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˅˻˲˥ˊ˘˪ ˖ˁ ˧ˁˢ˜˘ 70-˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ, ˵˪˥ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˨ ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˥˴ˋˣ˜˥˙ ˋˆ˥ ˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˖ˣˁ˵˘ˢ˥˨˪˘. ʕˁ˜, ˄˥༤˼˸˘ˣ˨˪˅˥ ˦ˁ˧ ˨ ˫˵ˁ˨˪˘ˋˢ ˱˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˊˁ˿˪ ˨˘༤˼ˣ˥ ˖ˁ˅˻˸ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪˻ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙, ˵˪˥ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪ ˜ «˥ˢ˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘˿» ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜ ˦˥˵˪˘ ˅ ˊ˅ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˁ ˦˥ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘˿ ˨ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋˢ˥˙ ˊˁ˪˥˙ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ 39. ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˊ༤̀ ˱˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ༤˘ˆ˫˧˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨ ˊ˥༤ˋ˙ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘̀ 86,7ɏ% ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ ˊˁ˪˫ 960 ˆ. ˨ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˢ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤˥ˢ ±310 ༤ˋ˪, ˅ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˙ ˥˵ˋ˅˘ˊˣ˻ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ ˣˋ ˫˜༤ˁˊ˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ 480 ˆ. ɳ ˪˥ ːˋ ˅˧ˋˢ̀ ˊ༤̀ ˄˥༤˼˸˘ˣ˨˪˅ˁ ˥˨˪ˁ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˦ˁ˧ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ɏ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˘˖˄˻˪˥˵ˣ˥˙, ˁ ˥˪˜༤˥ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜ ˥˪ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ 39 ʁˁˢˋ˪˘ˢ, ˅˦˧˥˵ˋˢ, ˵˪˥ ˦˥ˊ˥˄ˣ˻˙ «˦˥ˊ˨˜˥˜» ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˥˄˺̀˨ˣ̀˪˼˨̀ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˦˥˖ˊˣ˘ˢ ˥˪ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˱˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˥˪ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˨ ˣ˘ˢ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅.

131

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

ʐʸʺ˕ˌ˨ʸ 4. ɸˁ˪˻ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˘˲ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤˻, ˧ˁ˨˨˵˘˪ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˣˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ N2P. ʓ˧ˋˊˣ˘˙ ɏ% ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙

ʜˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜ˁ (༤ˋ˪)

ʒˁ˨˵ˌ˪ˣˁ̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜ˁ (༤ˋ˪)

ɸ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤, pɏ=ɏ0,7 (༤ˋ˪)

ʒ˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ — ༤˘ˆ˫˧˘˙˨˜˘ˋ

78,8

480

590

±410

ʒ˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ — ˨˘˴˘༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ

80,7

480

680

±380

ʒ˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ — ˦˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ɏ/ɏˆˁ༤˘˨˘˙˨˜˘˙

78,3

480

570

±420

ʒ˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ — ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ

77,1

480

520

±430

ʌ˘ˆ˫˧˘˙˨˜˘ˋ — ˦˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ɏ/ɏˆˁ༤˘˨˘˙˨˜˘˙

80,3

480

660

±400

ʌ˘ˆ˫˧˘˙˨˜˘ˋ — ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ

77,0

480

510

±430

ʓ˘˴˘༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ — ˦˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ɏ/ɏˆˁ༤˘˨˘˙˨˜˘˙

81,5

480

720

±370

ʓ˘˴˘༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ — ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ

80,2

480

660

±400

ʑ˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ɏ/ɏˆˁ༤˘˨˘˙˨˜˘˙ — ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ

74,7

480

410

±460

ʜ˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘˙ — ˧˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ

84,3

480

850

±350

ʜ˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘˙ — ༤˘ˆ˫˧˘˙˨˜˘ˋ

86,7

480

960

±310

ʜ˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘˙ — ˨˘˴˘༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ

86,8

480

960

±310

ʜ˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘˙ — ˦˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ɏ/ɏˆˁ༤˘˨˘˙˨˜˘˙

83,0

480

790

±360

ʜ˧˘˫༤˼˨˜˘˙ — ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ

82,0

480

740

±370

ʪːˣ˥˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˨˜˘ˋ — ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˨˜˘ˋ 40

77,0

480

510

±430

ʑ˫˪˫ˣ˲˫ˁ — ˢ˘ˣ˼˨˜˘ˋ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˻ 41

63,5

–110

–90

±580

ɲˁ༤˜ˁˣ˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ — ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥˙ ˢˁ˨˨˘˅ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲

69,6

271

180

±520

ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁˋˢ˻ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘

ˣˋ ˦˧ˋ˅˻˸ˁˋ˪ 200 ༤ˋ˪, (˨ˢ., ˣˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˧˘˨. 14), ˵˪˥ ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁˋ˪ ˁˊˋ˜˅ˁ˪ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˘ ˋˌ ˦ˁ˧ˁˢˋ˪˧˥˅ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˥ˢ˫ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨˫ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘. ɲˋ˖˫˨༤˥˅ˣ˥, ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˦˥˜ˁ˖ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ (˘ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ ˜˥˧˧ˋ˜˪ˣ˥˙) ˄˻༤ˁ ˄˻ ˁ˦˧˥˄ˁ˴˘̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˣˁ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˢ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ (˜˥˪˥˧˻˙ ˧ˁˣˋˋ ˣˋ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁ༤˨̀ ˦˧˘ ˋˌ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˋ) ˘ ˣˁ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘. ɳ ˜ˁ˵ˋ˨˪˅ˋ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧ˁ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˦˧˘˅ˋ˨˪˘ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˜˘˪ˁ˙˨˜˘˲, ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˨˜˘˲, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˄ˁ༤˜ˁˣ˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ (˦˥˨༤ˋˊˣ˘ˋ ˪˧˘ ˨˪˧˥˜˘ ˪ˁ˄༤. 4). ɳ˥ ˅˨ˋ˲ ˪˧ˋ˲ ˨༤˫˵ˁ̀˲ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜˘ ˥˜ˁ˖ˁ༤˘˨˼ ˥˵ˋˣ˼ ˄༤˘˖˜˘ ˜ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋˢ˥˙ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˊˁ˪ˋ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀. ʑ˥ˊ˥˄ˣ˻ˋ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧˻ ˨˅˘40 ɳ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘˘ ˫˵ˁ˨˪˅˥˅ˁ༤˘ ˨˦˘˨˜˘ ˥˧˄ˁˣ˘˵˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˵ˁ˜ˁ˅˨˜˥ˆ˥, ˆ˧ˁˊ˘˹ˁˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˜ˁ˙˜ˁ˅˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ༤˿˄༤̀ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨༤˥˅ˋˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥, ˨ ˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˨˪˥˧˥ˣ˻, ˨ ˪˫˧˥˅˨˜˘ˢ ˄ˋ༤˥˧˫˨˨˜˘ˢ ˘ ˊˋ˫༤˘ˣ˨˜˘ˢ ˧˫˨˨˜˘ˢ — ˨ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥˙. 41 ʃ˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁ༤˘˨˼ ˨˦˘˨˜˘ ˦˫˪˫ˣ˲˫ˁ, ˴˖̀ˣ˼˥˫ ˘ ˲ˁ˙ˣˁˣ˼˨˜˥ˆ˥, ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ɴ.ɍʓ.ɍʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ˻ˢ ˘ ɹ.ɍɯ.ɍʇ˫˖˼ˢ˘ˣ˥˙. ʑ˧˥˴ˋˣ˪˻ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙ ˊ༤̀ ˥˄˥˘˲ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧˥˅ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ̀˪˨̀ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˘˖ «ɴ༤˥˄ˁ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˄ˁ˖˻ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲», ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˻ˢ ˣˁ ˨ˁ˙˪ˋ ˦˧˥ˋ˜˪ˁ http://starling.rinet.ru/new100/main.htm (˦˥ ˨˥˨˪˥̀ˣ˘˿ ˣˁ 01.05.2017) .

132

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˫˿˪ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˽˱˱ˋ˜˪˘˅ˣ˥ˋ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˅ ˪ˋ˥˧˘˘ ˣˋ ˥ˆ˧ˁˣ˘˵ˋˣ˥ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘ ˘༤˘ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣˣ˻ˢ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻ˢ ˥˪˧ˋ˖˜˥ˢ. ʍˌ˜˟˗˙ː 14. ʃ༤༤˿˨˪˧ˁ˴˘̀ ˅˖ˁ˘ˢˣ˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˨˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘̀ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˧ˁ˨˵ˌ˪ˣ˻˲ ˊˁ˪ ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊˁ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤˥˅: ˁ) ˧˫ˢˁˣ˸˨˜˘ˋ — ˨˘˴˘༤˘˙˨˜˘ˋ; ˄) ˦˥˧˪˫ˆˁ༤˼˨˜˘˙ɏ/ɏˆˁ༤˘˨˘˙˨˜˘˙ — ˆˁ༤༤˥-˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ.

ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˫˿ ˥˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˼ ˣˋ ˨˅˥˙˨˪˅ˁˢ˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙, ˁ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˙ˣ˻ˢ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧˥ˢ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ, ˜˥˪˥˧˻˙ ˦˧˥̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˋ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊ˥༤ˋ˙ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˊ༤̀ ˦ˁ˧ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˨ ˥ˊ˘ˣˁ˜˥˅˻ˢ˘ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁˢ˘ ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊˁ. ɳˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˁ ˅ˣ˥˨˘˪ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥˙ ˅˜༤ˁˊ ˅ ˜˥ˣˋ˵ˣ˫˿ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜. ɼʸːໞ˳˩ˀ˗ˌˀ ʑ˥ˊ˅˥ˊ̀ ˘˪˥ˆ˘, ˨˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˘˧˫ˋˢ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˋ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˦˧˥˅ˋˊˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˅ ˅˘ˊˋ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘˲ ˥˄˥˄˹ˁ˿˹˘˲ ˅˻˅˥ˊ˥˅ ˘ ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘˙: 1. ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˫˿˹˘˲ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥˅ ˦˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˣˁ˘༤˫˵˸˘ˋ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˦˧˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˥˨˪˘ˆˁ˿˪˨̀ ˦˧˘ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ʓ.ɍɯ.ɍʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˘ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ (˦˥˨༤ˋ ˘˲ ˦˧ˋˊ˅ˁ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘). ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˦˥˦˻˪˜˘ ˦˥˨˪˧˥ˋˣ˘̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˣˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ ˥˄˹ˋˆ˥ ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊˁ, ˜ˁ˜ ˽˪˥ ˦˥ˊ˧ˁ˖˫ˢˋ˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˘˜˥˙ ʍ.ɍʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˘ ʓ.ɍɯ.ɍʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ, ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪ ˜ ˁ˄˨˫˧ˊˣ˻ˢ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪ˁˢ ˘ ˫˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˣˁ ˣˋ˨˥˨˪˥̀˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˥ˆ˥ ˅ ˣ˘˲ ˦˥˨˪˫༤ˁ˪ˁ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˥ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅-˦˥˪˥ˢ˜˥˅ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨˥˅ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˋˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˥༤ːˣ˥ ˫˵˘˪˻˅ˁ˪˼ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˼ ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨˥˅ˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˅ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˦˧˘ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˢ ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ˲ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤˘˅˸˘˲˨̀ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ̀˪ ˖ˁˢˋˣ˻ ˥ˊˣ˘˲ ˘ ˪ˋ˲ ːˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙. 2. ʇˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜ˁ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˦˥ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣ˻ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘༤ˁ ˊ˥˄˘˪˼˨̀ ˲˥˧˥˸ˋˆ˥ ˵˘˨༤ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘̀ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪ˣ˻˲ ˘ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˥˪ˊˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧˻ ˦˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁ˿˪, ˵˪˥ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˢ˥ˆ˫˪ ˽˱˱ˋ˜˪˘˅ˣ˥ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣ̀˪˼˨̀ ˊ༤̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˅ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻˲ ˨ˋˢ˼̀˲ ˘ ˣˁ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˫˄˘ˣˁ˲. 3. ʕ˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˫˿ ˥˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˼ ˣˋ ˨˅˥˙˨˪˅ˁˢ˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙, ˁ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪ˣ˻ˢ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧˥ˢ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ, ˜˥˪˥˧˻˙ ˅˻˧ˁːˁˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨ˋ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙, ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˅ˣ˥˨˘˪ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥˙ ˅˜༤ˁˊ ˅ ˜˥ˣˋ˵ˣ˫˿ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˥༤˫˵ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜. ɳ ˨˘༤˫ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˙ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˅ ˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˁ˲ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˆ˥ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˨ ˖ˁ˧ˁˣˋˋ ˅˻˄˧ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ ˦˥˦ˁˊˁˣ˘̀ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˊˁ˪˻ ˅ ˽˪˥˪ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˜˥˧˧ˋ˜˪ˣˁ̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˊ˅˫˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅ ˊ˥༤ːˣˁ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤̀˪˼ ˨˥˄˥˙ ˣˋ ˜˥ˣ˜˧ˋ˪ˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ, ˁ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˨ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹ˋ˙ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˘. ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˅ˢˋ˨˪˥ «1000 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ», ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˫˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁ˪˼ «1000ɏ±ɏ350 ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ ˨ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼˿ 70ɏ%». 133

ʍ. ɹ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥

4. ʕˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤˥˅, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣˁ̀ ˣˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˋ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˅ ˅˘ˊˋ ˦˥˪˥˜ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ, ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘༤ˁ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˘˪˼, ˵˪˥ ˦˥ ˢˋ˧ˋ ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˫ˢˋˣ˼˸ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˘ ˨˪˧ˋˢ˘˪˨̀ ˜ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˢ˫ ˦˥˨˪˥̀ˣˣ˥ˢ˫ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˿. ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˊ༤̀ ˖ˁˊˁˣˣ˥˙ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˘ pɏ=ɏ0,7 ˘ ˦ˋ˧˘˥ˊˋ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ 500 ༤ˋ˪ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ ±ɏ50ɏ% ˥˪ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ˦ˋ˧˘˥ˊˁ, ˦˧˘ 2000 ༤ˋ˪ — 26ɏ%, ˁ ˜ 4000 ༤ˋ˪ ˦˧˘˄༤˘ːˁˋ˪˨̀ ˜ 20-˦˧˥˴ˋˣ˪ˣ˥ˢ˫ ˫˧˥˅ˣ˿. 5. ʓ˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪ˋ˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˨ ˱ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˧ˁ˖˄˧˥˨˥ˢ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˊ༤̀ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˣˁ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥ˢ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˋ ˊ˥ 2 ˪˻˨. ༤ˋ˪ ˦˥ˆ˧ˋ˸ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˥˜, ˅˻˖˅ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˙ˣ˻ˢ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧˥ˢ ˖ˁˢˋˣ, ̀˅༤̀˿˪˨̀ ˊ˥ˢ˘ˣ˘˧˫˿˹˘ˢ˘ ˘ ˣ˥˨̀˪ ˥˄˺ˋ˜˪˘˅ˣ˻˙ ˲ˁ˧ˁ˜˪ˋ˧ — ˪. ˋ. ˣˋ ˢ˥ˆ˫˪ ˄˻˪˼ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˨ˣ˘ːˋˣ˻ (˅ ˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ˨ˢ˻˨༤ˋ) ˖ˁ ˨˵ˋ˪ ˊˁ༤˼ˣˋ˙˸ˋˆ˥ ˫˪˥˵ˣˋˣ˘̀ ˨˪˥˨༤˥˅ˣ˻˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ˘༤˘ ˦˧˘˅༤ˋ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˥˦˥༤ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲. 6. ʘ˨˪ˁˣ˥˅༤ˋˣˣˁ̀ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˼ ˸˘˧˘ˣ˻ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˥˪ ˵˘˨༤ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ˲ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˦˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˦˧˘ ˧ˁ˨˸˘˧ˋˣ˘˘ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˦˧˥˦˥˧˴˘˥ˣˁ༤˼ˣ˥ ˫ˢˋˣ˼˸ˁˋ˪˨̀. ʎˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˦˧˘ ˦ˋ˧˘˥ˊˋ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ 1350 ༤ˋ˪ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˊ༤̀ 200-˨༤˥˅ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ ˅ ˊ˅ˁ ˧ˁ˖ˁ ˢˋˣ˼˸ˋ, ˵ˋˢ ˊ༤̀ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˥ˆ˥. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˫˅ˋ༤˘˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˧ˁ˖ˢˋ˧ˁ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ˅ ˪ˋ˥˧˘˘ ˦˥˖˅˥༤̀ˋ˪ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˦˥˅˻˨˘˪˼ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˌ˪˥˅. 7. ɸˁ༤˼ˣˋ˙˸ˋˋ ˦˥˅˻˸ˋˣ˘ˋ ˪ˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˘ ˣˁˊˌːˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˫˿ ˥˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˼ ˖ˁ ˨˵ˋ˪ ˦˧˘˅༤ˋ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˥˦˥༤ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ (˥˦˥˧ˣ˻˲ ˪˥˵ˋ˜) ˊ༤̀ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˣˁ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻˲ ˨ˋˢˋ˙ ˣˁ ˧ˁ˖ˣ˻˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˫˄˘ˣˁ˲.

ʇ ˌ ˞ ˀ ˛ ʸ ˞ ˟˛ ʸ ɯ༤ˋ˜˨ˋˋ˅, ɯ. ʎ. 2013. ʒˁˣˣ˘ˋ ˜˥˵ˋ˅ˣ˘˜˘ ˅ ʫ˜˫˪˘˘. ɳˋ˨˪ˣ˘˜ ʓˋ˅ˋ˧˥-ɳ˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˱ˋˊˋ˧ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ ˘ˢ. ʍ. ʇ. ɯˢˢ˥˨˥˅ˁ 5(10): 62—69. ɯ˧ˁ˦˥˅, ʍ. ɳ., ʍ. ʍ. ʝˋ˧˴. 1974. ʍˁ˪ˋˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˻ ˅ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˜ˋ. ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ: ʎˁ˫˜ˁ. ɲˁˆˁˋ˅, ʍ. ʝ. 2015. ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥˄ ˽˪ˣ˥˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ˣ˥˙ ˥˄˹ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˣˁ ˨ˋ˅ˋ˧˥-˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥ˢ ʇˁ˅˜ˁ˖ˋ ˅ VIII–IV ˪˻˨. ˊ˥ ˣ.˽. ɳ.: ʎ. ʫ˧˻˵ˋ˅ (˧ˋˊ.). 4-̀ ˋːˋˆ˥ˊˣˁ̀ ˘˪˥ˆ˥˅ˁ̀ ˜˥ˣ˱ˋ˧ˋˣ˴˘̀ ˦˧˥˱ˋ˨˨˥˧˨˜˥-˦˧ˋ˦˥ˊˁ˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˼˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅ˁ ʠˋ˵ˋˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˆ˥˨˫ˊˁ˧˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ˁ. 28 ˱ˋ˅˧ˁ༤̀ 2015 ˆ.: 126–128. ɴ˧˥˖ˣ˻˙: ʠˋ˵ˋˣ˨˜˘˙ ˆ˥˨˫ˊˁ˧˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ɹ. 2010. ʐ˄ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˜˧˘˪ˋ˧˘̀ ˊ༤̀ ˦˥˨˪˧˥ˋˣ˘̀ ˆˋˣˋˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˘. ɳ: ʁ. ʍ. ʣˁ༤̀˦˘ˣˁ (˧ˋˊ.). ɳ˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˣ˻ˋ ˵˪ˋˣ˘̀ 2008. ɲ˿༤༤ˋ˪ˋˣ˼ ˥˄˹ˋ˨˪˅ˁ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊ˥˅ ʒɯʎ. ʕ˧˫ˊ˻ ˢˋː˘ˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪˨˜˥˙ ˣˁ˫˵ˣ˥˙ ˜˥ˣ˱ˋ˧ˋˣ˴˘˘. ɳ˻˦˫˨˜ 17: 530–572. ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ: ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ɹ., ɯ. ʃ. ʇ˥ˆˁˣ. 2013. ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥ˊˁ˧ˊ˨˜˥˙ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˥˄˹ˣ˥˨˪˘. ɳˋ˨˪ˣ˘˜ ʒɴɴʘ. ʓˋ˧˘̀: ʜ˘༤˥༤˥ˆ˘̀. ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ. ̘ 16 (117): 149—177. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ɹ., ɯ. ʪ. ʍ˘༤˘˪ˁ˧ˋ˅. 2008. ɴ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘̀ ˅ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥-˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘˘. ʍ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. Orientalia et Classica: ʕ˧˫ˊ˻ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ˁ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ 19: 509—536. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ɹ., ʍ. ʎ. ʓˁˋˣ˜˥. ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ɳˋ˨˪ˣ˘˜ ʒɴɴʘ. ʓˋ˧˘̀: ʜ˘༤˥༤˥ˆ˘̀. ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ. 14(4): 259–278. ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅, ʍ. ɹ., ɴ. ʓ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ. 2014. ʌˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘̀ ˣ˫˄˘˙˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅: ˜ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˣ˘༤˼˨˜˥-ˣ˫˄˘˙˨˜˥˙ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˥˄˹ˣ˥˨˪˘. ɳˋ˨˪ˣ˘˜ ʒɴɴʘ. ʓˋ˧˘̀: ʜ˘༤˥༤˥ˆ˘̀. ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ. ̘ 16 (138): 51—72. ɳˋˣ˪˴ˋ༤˼, ɹ. ʓ., ʌ. ɯ. ʐ˅˵ˁ˧˥˅. 1969. ʕˋ˥˧˘̀ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪ˋ˙. ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ: ʎˁ˫˜ˁ. ʃ༤༤˘˵-ʓ˅˘˪˻˵, ɳ. ʍ. 1966. ʍˣ˘ˢ˻ˋ ˘ ˊˋ˙˨˪˅˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˘ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˜˘. ɳ: ʐ˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˋ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ˻ ˽˅˥༤˿˴˘˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁ: 160–162. ʓˁˢˁ˧˜ˁˣˊ: ʜˁˣ. 134

ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘: ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˦˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅

ʇ༤ˋ˙ˣ, ʌ. ʓ. 2010. ɳ˧ˋˢ̀ ˜ˋˣ˪ˁ˅˧˥˅. ʓ˪ˋ˦ˣˁ̀ ˦˧ˁ˧˥ˊ˘ˣˁ ˆ˧ˋ˜˥˅ ˘ ˁ˧˘ˋ˅. ʓ.–ʑˋ˪ˋ˧˄˫˧ˆ: ɹ˅˧ˁ˖˘̀. ʎˁ˧˫ˢ˥˅, ɲ. ʑ. 2001. ɯ˧˫ˢ˻ˣ˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜ɏ/ɏˊ˘ˁ༤ˋ˜˪. ɳ: ʃ. ʠˋ༤˻˸ˋ˅ˁ (˧ˋˊ.). ʫ˖˻˜˘ ˢ˘˧ˁ. ʒ˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘: 636–656. ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ: Academia. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸, ʍ. 1960. ʌˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˊ˥˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˽˪ˣ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˜˥ˣ˪ˁ˜˪˥˅. ʎ˥˅˥ˋ ˅ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˜ˋ 1: 23–52. References Alekseev, A. N. 2013. Ranniye kochevniki v Yakutii. Vestnik Severo-Vostochnogo federal’nogo universiteta im. M. K. Ammosova 5(10): 62—69. Arapov, M. V., M. M. Herz. 1974. Matematicheskiye metody v istoricheskoy lingvistike. Moskva: Nauka. Bagaev, M. Kh. 2015. K voprosu ob etnokul’turnoy obshchnosti na severo-vostochnom Kavkaze v VIII–IV tys. do n.e. In: N. Yarychev (ed.). 4 ezhegodnaya itogovaya konferenciya professorsko-prepodavatel’skogo sostava Chechenskogo gosudarstvennogo universiteta 28 fevral’a 2015 goda: 126–128. Grozniy: Chechenskiy gosudarstvennyj universitet. Illich-Svitych, V. M. 1966. Mnimye i deystvitel’nye vozmozhnosti leksikostatistiki. In: Osnovnye problemy evolyutsii yazyka: 160–162. Samarkand: Fan. Klein, L. S. 2010. Vremya kentavrov. Stepnaya prarodina grekov i ariev. S.-Petersburg: Evraziya. Narumov, B. P. 2001. Arumynskiy yazyk/dialekt. In: I. Chelysheva (ed.). Yazyki mira. Romanskie yazyki: 636–656. Moskva: Academia. Starostin, S. 2000. Comparative-historical linguistics and lexicostatistics. In: Colin Renfrew et al. (eds.). Time Depth in Historical Linguistics: 233–259. Cambridge: McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research. Swadesh, M. 1960. Leksikostatisticheskoye datirovaniye doistoricheskikh etnicheskikh kontaktov. Novoye v lingvistike 1: 23—52. Vasilyev, M. E. 2010. Ob ispol'zovanii leksicheskogo kriteriya dlya postroyeniya genealogicheskoy klassifikatsii. In: Z. Shalyapina (ed.). Vostokovednyye chteniya 2008. Byulleten' Obshchestva vostokovedov RAN. Trudy mezhinstitutskoy nauchnoy konferentsii 17: 530-572. Moskva: Institut vostokovedeniya RAN. Vasilyev, M. E., A. Yu. Militaryov. 2008. Glottokhronologiya v sravnitel’no-istoricheskom yazykoznanii. Modeli divergentsii yazykov. Orientalia et Classica: Trudy Instituta vostochnykh kultur i antichnosti 19: 509—536. Vasilyev, M. E., A. I. Kogan. 2013. K voprosu o vostochnodardskoy yazykovoy obshchnosti. Journal of Language Relationship 10: 149–177. Vasilyev, M. E., G. S. Starostin. 2014. Leksikostatisticheskaya klassifikatsiya nubiyskikh yazykov: k voprosu o niŬsko-nubiyskoy yazykovoy obshchnosti. Journal of Language Relationship 12: 51–72. Vasilyev, M. E., M. N. Saenko. K voprosu o tochnosti glottokhronologii: datirovaniye protsessa leksicheskikh zamen po dannym romanskikh yazykov. Journal of Language Relationship 14(4): 259–278. Venttsel, E. S., L. A. Ovcharov. 1969. Teoriya veroyatnostey. Moskva: Nauka.

Mikhail Vasilyev, Mikhail Saenko. How accurate can glottochronology be? Dating language divergence on the basis of Romance data. The paper is a sequel to an earlier study by the authors, in which they discussed the accuracy of linguistic datings arrived at by the glottochronological method on the basis of data from 110-item wordlists for Romance languages. The object of this second part of the study is the dating of linguistic divergence, i.e. determining the separation dates for two or more modern languages. In this paper, we compare several traditional as well as newly offered models for the glottochronological process, with special attention paid to the margin of error and reliability of glottochronological calculations on different time depths. The results of the study allow for a realistic assessment of the degree of accuracy in the glottochronological dating of the divergence of Romance languages and lead to a number of practical conclusions that will be useful for the application of glottochronology to any other linguistic material. Keywords: glottochronology, lexicostatistics, Swadesh wordlist, Romance languages. 135

Book Reviews / ʍˀ˨ˀ˗ˊˌˌ Luka Repanšek Department of Comparative and General Linguistics, Faculty of Arts, University of Ljubljana; [email protected]

Blanca María Prósper. The Indo-European Names of Central Hispania. A Study in Continental Celtic and Latin Word Formation. Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Sprachwissenschaft (herausgegeben von Wolfgang Meid), Bd. 152. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachen und Literaturen der Universität Innsbruck (Bereich Sprachwissenschaft), 2016. 237 pp. Over the last two decades or so increasing interest has been noted in the study of the onomastic linguistic remains of Indo-European Europe and Asia Minor. Paleolinguistic data of otherwise poorly attested IndoEuropean languages (or, for that matter, linguistic systems that are known solely through the names and naming systems that have left an imprint on a given Namenlandschaft) has of course always been studied but never has the opportunity been greater to approach this ultimately uncompromising and extremely sensitive set of data with the quickly expanding knowledge that contemporary Indo-European comparative linguistics has to offer. Not only is it now becoming possible to refine and substantiate old etymologies, refute the old ideas and promote alternative, methodologically decidedly less reproachable solutions, or find convincing linguistic explanations for the here-to unetymologisable linguistic data, but also — and this is all the more important — correct the wordformational patterns projected back into the protolanguage on the precious evidence of just such fragmentary pieces of evidence, sometimes even contributing to the established set of lexical items reconstructed for the parent language (such opportunities are of course comparatively rare and about ninety per cent of the onomastic material will as a rule be explicable on grounds of what we already know or hold for wellestablished on the basis of the comparative data (mostly appellative) offered by the Indo-European corpus languages). On a smaller scale, however, the onomastic material of a given linguistic system is able to provide valuable missing puzzles in the understanding of the historical development of a particular language family or one of its individual daughters, especially given the fact that 1) the onomastic systems are repositories of often residual linguistic features, and 2) being essentially generated by the nononomastic sphere of language use, names are fundamentally words (a fact that is perhaps too often unrespected) and as such reflect in all the details the pho-

nological, morphological, word-formational, syntactic, and lexical peculiarities of a given language. Names therefore demand a careful and well-balanced etymological explanation that will assign the correct coordinates on all the relevant levels of linguistic expression. One must never neglect the crucially important fact, however, that the onomastic system of a given language, while it does indeed feed upon the appellative sphere of use, obeys its own rules in terms of the productivity on the level of the word-formational patterns and to a minor extent lexis (and rarely even morphology). The generally unavoidable and natural analogical processes will consequently chose different trajectories and affect different segments of language. B. M. Prósper’s monograph is an attempt at extracting as much information as possible from the selected corpus of anthroponymy to, first and foremost, provide the scholarship with a glimpse into the linguistic diversification of North-Western Hispania that is otherwise difficult or, in parts, impossible to track on the basis of the existing epichoric Celtiberian textual documents (mostly, of course, because these are rather earlier than the data embedded in the Latin inscriptions), and, second, to detect potential residual features of Hispano-Celtic that may offer an interesting insight into the word-formational make-up of the older layers of Celtic. The author is to be especially commended on her conscientious application of the premises that were pointed out above, subjecting every studied piece of evidence to multi-faceted etymological analysis. Whenever a particularly tentative suggestion is made to account for a given (mostly sporadic) sound change that otherwise receives no or very little back-up from the immediately relatable language material (due to sheer scarcity of the relevant data), the solution is supported and exemplified by typologically comparable instances from better documented languages, which is an extremely welcome and methodologically indeed necessitated increment. Several of the proposed etymologies are

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/2 (2017) • Pp. 136–140 • © The authors, 2017

BLANCA MARÍA PRÓSPER. The Indo-European Names of Central Hispania (2016)

rather convincing and well-grounded in the framework offered in each individual case by the internal and external comparative data. In the majority of cases, of course, even the likeliest interpretation will still remain rather tentative and ultimately purely provisional as is to be expected in any work dealing with etymological onomastics, but a solid starting point is a good stepping stone towards future refinement (this usually becomes possible when more data comes to light or old data receives an updated explanation). The book is divided into two sizable chapters which contain a condensed and contextualised version of the ideas previously expressed and elaborated by the author in a number of separate studies, supplemented by several novel suggestions and discussions. The Names of the Celtic Cantabri (pp. 11–122) studies the anthroponymical heritage of the Celtic population to the west of the region dominated by the Celtiberian inscriptions, while The Names of Western Celtiberia (pp. 123–198) seeks to pinpoint the individualistic traits and/or dialectal differences potentially mirrored in the personal names of the belt between Burgos, Segovia, Soria, Guadalajara, and Cuenca. The second part of the book is organised as a lexicon of alphabetically arranged names that have been conveniently grouped together according to the place of their concentration or, if assignable, the appertaining ethnic (p. 124: Pelendones and Turmogi, p. 128: Autrigones, p. 144: Arevaci, and p. 180: names concentrated around Cuenca). The first chapter is more significantly structured and studies selected personal, and to a lesser extent also ethnic and divine names (most notably Cabuniaeginus and Erudinus, pp. 118–119), on the basis of a particular feature — be it on the level of morphology, word formation, or historical phonology — that the author considers important to isolate and expose to closer scrutiny. In this way the book is able to provide a number of neatly integrated (however miscellaneous) specialist studies on several important aspects of Hispano-Celtic, or generally Celtic, historical development: the (older layers of the) Celtic numeral system (pp. 15–21), the idiosyncrasies of the Celtic comparative and superlative formations (pp. 96–100), the still somewhat problematic question of the specifically Celtic continuation of PIE *k’er-(H2)(-u-) ‘horn & c.’ (pp. 21–26), some overlooked cases (the autor’s choice of the word “neglected” here is perhaps less appropriate) of departicipial formations (pp. 26–33) and obscured compound names (pp. 51–58), the survivors of the PIE category of holokinetic t-stems (pp. 58–65), the history of the verbal adjectives in *-eto- (pp. 71–87) and the surviving instances of possessives containing

the Hoffmann suffix (*-H1/3en-, pp. 87–96), secondary formations based on nasal (passim) and sigmatic stems (pp. 111–115), dissimilation of geminates (such as, e.g., *nn > *nd, pp. 65–71), metathesis in LVP clusters (pp. 101–102), anaptyxis in VRPRV sequences (pp. 102– 104), and a few scattered bits and pieces of provisional but insightful comments on various heterogeneous problems of historical phonology and/or morphology. Although the title of the monograph indicates that specific problems of Latin word formation will also be addressed somewhat extensively, this is not in fact among the central foci of the monograph. Much Italic comparanda is, admittedly, adduced in support of the author’s claims on a particular etymological interpretation, but the book is as much a study of Latin (or Italic, for that matter) word-formational patterns as it is more generally a contribution to the understanding of the somewhat still problematic points of PIE word formation. This is of course the expected side-effect of the study of that side of the language that does not normally take part in the process of reconstruction and may therefore have the noteworthy value of being able to refine or even correct what has been projected back and reconstructed for the parent solely on the basis of the appellative data. What needs to be called to the reader’s attention in this respect, however, is the relatively long and extremely interesting and insightful excursus on the history of the type of -ilo- adjectives in Celtic and here, specifically, Latin. Both chapters conclude with synoptic sections on synchronically productive word-formational patterns (i.e. predominantly suffixes and suffixal chains) of the surveyed names as well as their “phonetic” peculiarities. This, however, is perhaps the most problematic part of the monograph. Even though conditioned sound changes are expected to sporadically occur (a good example is, perhaps, Murce, p. 143, if from *morko-, with conditioned raising of *-o- immediately comparable with the equally sporadic ven. murtuvo.i. < *morto-) in the attested names (when such phenomena are not in fact just a by-product of the rendition of epichoric, native sound sequences in the Latin script), these are more or less as a rule assigned systemic value by Prósper, who tends to take them at face value (occasionally perhaps somewhat too uncritically) and parallels the proposed developments and their results with rather individualist views of the sound changes underwent by the language(s) displayed in the native Celtic text documents conducted in the Iberian (and, to a smaller extent, Latin) script. Too often, perhaps, a particular sound change is proposed to have occurred on the basis of the author’s own view of an etymological source behind a name/group of names. Highly 137

Book Reviews / ʒˋ˴ˋˣ˖˘˘

speculative is in my view the proposed reduction *#ࢤeR- > #uR- (pp. 111 and passim), which by the way is an old idea, based on the names such as Vrcaloco, Vurovio and Avlgigun and supported by CIb. urantiom as if from *up-ero-, none of which can be irreproachably claimed to actually contain the addressed sequence (note that the etymological connection between Lusitanian Uramus and CIb. Veramos cannot be proved in any significant way). It is a staple fact of historical comparative linguistics that etymology of a given word in any given language is the bedrock foundation upon which a set of regular (and conditioned) sound-changes can be observed and established (combinatorially, of course, and using forward as well as backward reconstruction). This customary, although demanding procedure logically receives a methodological caveat: the etymological connection has to be irrefutable for the results to obtain. There is an immediate problem with the onomastic data, however. Regardless of the progress made in the direction of successfully approaching the fragmentary linguistic evidence, names still often prove to be ultimately difficult if not momentarily impossible to subject to exact interpretation, which is simply due to their general opacity, brought about by too many points of contact with potentially promising formal correspondences and simultaneous lack of purely synchronic transparency (this is more often than not a rule for onomastic languages but not uncommon in the case of fragmentarily or otherwise poorly attested systems). Whenever an individually observed sound change is supported by a comparandum with ultimately uncertain etymology, the reader should have been warned that the author is basing her views on her own individual interpretation of a particular piece of data and not in fact on a substantiated piece of evidence as seems to be the impression. Several of author’s points on such proposed phonological developments should therefore perhaps be understood as very tentative and provisional. I remain very sceptical towards several of the suggestions, especially towards the proposed voicing of stops preceded by nasals (cf. the Old Irish type *-ant- > *-ænd- > *-Մ฿d-) in the likes of Pi(n)ganco, Letondo, Plandica etc. (pp. 185–190 and passim). If voicing were a late systemic sound-change, it should affect all instances of such sequences, which it clearly does not, exempting the -nt-participles (unless, as it is argued, obscured participial formations) and the productive suffix *-Vnko-. As far as I can see, there is not a single incontestable and unambiguous case of a -nP-sequence in the material adduced in favour of the sound law and neither would I be too eager to recognise the numeral five in the likes of Pi(n)ganco & co. That such 138

regular voicing would be hindered by the “palatalising effect” of the following *݈ (as, interparadigmatically, in stenionte and gente, as is suggested) and that names built around *arganto- that never show voicing do not in fact go back to the commonly accepted thematisation of the present participle seems like special pleading. In light of the unproblematic fact that at least Celtiberian attests to the process of phonetic lenition of voiced stops I wonder if the (surely telling) spelling of etymological medial *-g- in Dahae and perhaps Saihli as >h< does not rather simply encode the voiced velar fricative rather than its secondary devoicing as suggested by Prósper (pp. 139, 184). A rather strong case is also made in favour of gemination as a direct systemic consequence of a phonological process. This is likely in case of *-R݈- clusters, where it is even typologically expected, even though the data forces one to simultaneously accept the somewhat suspicious (because strangely sporadic) accompanying glide absorption (note, however, the potentially interesting case of subsequent dissimilation to -rd- < *-rr- < *-r݈-, pp. 70–71, 120), but I cannot see a convincing reason to favour gemination as a purely phonological process over hypocoristic gemination in cases such as Accua, Pedaccianus, Boddi etc. It is moreover rather difficult to accept the idea behind the proposed development of *-Vpn- > *-VΟun- > *-V΍un- (pp. 105, 118), since PCelt. *Ο is otherwise never voiced intervocalically and is normally lost without trace. I am undecided on the late change of the inherited voiceless labiovelar into *p (passim) as potentially mirrored by Petraioci, Pentius & co. (the textual documents of course clearly attest to the preservation of *kࢤ). These names are extremely likely to go back to the obvious numerals that they contain in the derivational base, but how sure can one be that they are ultimately Celtic? Note that the divine name Vailico ~ Vaelico (p. 182) is said to preserve the otherwise regularly monophthongised inherited diphthong *a݈ on account of its being of onomatopoeic origin (cf. OIr. fáel ‘wolf’). I cannot see, however, how an inherited lexical item, regardless of its etymological source, would be able to resist a regular sound change. It remains unclear what the author’s views are on the probable simplification of *-Πt- cluster in the seemingly popular name built on Ambato- < PCelt. *amb-aΠto-. On p. 125 it is described as regular and expected, whereas in ft. 65 (p. 73) the development is said to be surprising. The supposed metathesis in Crastunon- (p. 160) is despite a good appertaining discussion left unaccounted for in the end. There are an additional few minorly problematic points I would like to draw attention to. The PN Carauanca, if it is indeed related to the PIE word for

BLANCA MARÍA PRÓSPER. The Indo-European Names of Central Hispania (2016)

‘horn’ & c. (p. 23ff.), which seems more than likely, could equally well reflect a possessive *-ࢤo- derivative, so *k’er=H2-ࢤo-, cf. Gr. ΥΠΪΜóΫ < *k’er=H2=s-(ࢤ)ó-. The mountain ridge KΜΪΩήΜΞΥΜ(Ϋ) is certainly non Celtic (p. 25). I have recently explained it (Repanšek 2016c: 187–188) as reflecting *(s)kor=ࢤ९-ko- (cf. OIr. lië < *lŖH2=ࢤ९-ko-) to *(s)ker- ‘split’ (for the secondary semantic shift towards a nomen rei actae cf. PSl. *skala ‘rock’). Balto-Slavic *kárࢤŊ (p. 25–26) is undoubtedly a vr๗ddhi formation (and as such a formal substantivisation of the underlying possessive adjective) but only in as much as it copies the naturally co-occurring metatony in the inherited type (cf. the Slavic type *ࢤyๅdra to *ud=r-ó-); *kŵrࢤŊ is therefore an unjustified projection and does not as such “fail to account for the Celtiberian form” (p. 26). Hittite makkiešš- ‘become big’ can hardly be convincingly traced back to *meŘ=H2-eH1sH1- (p. 27) — a projection that strives to account for the exclusive geminate spelling of the intervocalic -šš-. Such fientives are synchronically most probably based on the established model *pal‫ܔ‬ešš- (adj.) (cf. *pal‫=ܔ‬ešš-ar/n-) ਘ *pal‫ܔ‬-ešš- (fient.) and ultimately reflect simple conversions. In terms of word formation, the type continued by Latin senŖsce/o- etc. < *-e-H1- + *-sk’e/o- (ibid.) is of course completely unrelated. Vedic mahŢ-yá-te ‘to be/feel big’ is a deadjectival denominative verb and as such goes back directly to a straightforward *meŘ=H2-݈é/ó- (with regular and morphophonetically conditioned lengthening of the reflex of schwa primum before the suffix) rather than indirectly reflect an “older *-e݈/i-” (p. 35). There is absolutely no reason to uphold Hamp’s view that the PN Brigetio is of deverbative origin (p. 52; see Repanšek 2016a: 248). The sequence *-Ř९n-i݈o- < *-Ř९H1-i݈owould certainly not have had a different outcome (purportedly *-g९i݈o- > *-gani݈o-, p. 54) than the ubiquitous type *-Ř९n-o- (< *-Ř९H1-o-) > *-gn-o- in Italo-Celtic; an inherited *-Ř९H1-݈o- (cf. OIr. búachaill < *-݈o-) that would preserve the laryngeal intact, on the other hand, would indeed produce PCelt. *-gan݈o- (via laryngeal loss by what is descriptively known as Pinault’s rule), logically matching the simplex. The PN Adnamatia in Pannonia is formally a substantivised adjective of appurtenance to Adnamato- and could under no etymological approach to the root in question come to mean “the frightened city” (p. 85). Incidentally, the PN Adnomatus from Ig (sic!) should be properly said to indirectly reflect the length of the *Ŋ in its Gaulish donor, given that this was phonetically most probably realised as a low rounded */ર/, cf. such spellings as Gaul. Blotu-rix for *blŊtu- (see Sims-Williams 2003: 56). I do not share Olsen’s views on the origin of the Hoffmann suffix and I do not find the proposed se-

mantic relationship between the derived and underived versions at all convincing (pp. 87–96) — we must rather simply be dealing with a complex suffix with the basic function of deriving from the nominal base a possessive adjective (liable to subsequent formal substantivisation). The alleged cases of *-H1/3n-oshould, however, probably be segmented differently (specifically *-H1-no-), as has already been proposed. I am cautious to accept admittedly interesting cases of *-Ŋno- as reflecting the old, basically unshortened version of *-o-H1/3n-o-, because this seems to significantly complicate the traditional (and in my view rather convincing) explanation for the “normal” and ubiquitous type in *-ono-, especially since cases such as Gaul. Toutanno- could easily be secondarily built on the inherited Ŋ-stem and thus represent a younger parallel to the inherited Toutono- < *-o-H1/3no- (with regular laryngeal loss by Dybo’s law) ਙ *-e-H2-. I am not convinced that pairs such as Aiu (PN) vs. Aiankum (family name) can in fact reflect an old relationship -ŵ(n) : *-९-ko-, since Aiu is cleary an u-stem, cf. the Gaul. hypocoristic Aiiuca (see Meid 2005: 213). Latin patrŵnus and its oppositional derivative matrŵna (p. 92) are almost definitely not old inherited formations, neither is the apparent thematic base of Av. vŢsŊn- (as per Olsen 2010: 160–161), which simply copies the model established by the predominance of the puΤrŊn- type. Cormerton-, if it indeed goes back to *kom-merton-, is hardly a case of a Hoffmann-derivative, *merto-n(most notably in Av. marƕtan-, which only means ‘mortal’; there is no conclusive piece of evidence that would point to a homonymous marƕtan- with the meaning of ‘chief of men’ in the GŌδŌs) being a clear case of an individualisation. Note that the divine name Vidasus is certainly Pannonian rather than Celtic (p. 113), i.e. Gaulish. PCelt. *ulkࢤo- for PIE *ࢤl๗kࢤo- ‘wolf’ (OIr. olc, perhaps = Lepontic Ulkos) is in my view a case of resyllabification rather than a final stage of the proposed developmental stage *ࢤulkࢤo- (p. 115), cf. Old Albanian ulk and Pannonian *ulko- (in Ulcisia), going towards the same end as *lukࢤo- with full metathesis of the *da‫ݡ‬ru- type. Consequently, I find it extremely unlikely that the PN Vlibagi could conceal the expected PCelt. reflex *ࢤlikࢤo- (> *ࢤlipo- > *ࢤlibo-). The PN Voltisemae should not be simply called Italic (p. 154, ft. 125) as the relationship between the reflex of the sequence *-७H2o- that the name attests to, namely *-am- (with expected, even though sporadically marked vowel weakening in an unaccented syllable), exactly matching the sequence -am- >amem< amply attested in Ig (there the PN Decomon- is not autochthonous), vs. PItal. *-om-, for which consider Ven. dekomo- ‘10th’, points to the fact that things are 139

Book Reviews / ʒˋ˴ˋˣ˖˘˘

significantly more complicated. The phenomenon actually seems to reflect an important isogloss that brings in further (and rather welcome) internal diversification within the Northern-Adriatic language continuum (see Repanšek 2016b: 337 and a much updated view in id. 2017). I have trouble accepting the claim that the data seems to point towards the “reconstruction of a single Celtic and Italic Suffix -ed(i)݈o-” (p. 164); this would leave *-o-d݈o- (the latter morphemic segmentation is dictated by deadverbials such as Gaul. *uΠsed݈o- & co., in my view also by the PN Remetodia < *-eto-d݈o-, for which consider ΩήΠΪ-ΠέΩ÷ΜΪΠ[Ω]ήΤ), the widespread variant found in Gaulish (matching OIr. -(ai)de, W -eid), completely unaccounted for. OIr. búachaill, MW bugeil do not represent transfer forms to the i-stems (p. 166), but regularly and unproblematically reflect old, inherited agent nouns in plain monosyllabic *-݈o- (cf. Uhlich 1993). Gaul. neððamo- (*/ts/) = OIr. nessam reflect the expected deadverbial superlative *nesd-t७H2o- (cf. Indo-Iranian *nazd-) rather than *ned(h)-to- or *ned-samo- (p. 171 with ft. 135). There are very few typographical errors. I notice for for form (p. 98), already (p. 99), postdating (p. 119 under 8.), the a (p. 125 s.v. *argamo-), means for menas (p. 130), a dot instead of a comma before It ... (p. 136), a missing on (p. 143 s.v. ?morko-), and (p. 146 s.v. *koࢤno-), the adjective unknown on p. 170 is likely to be unsuitable (does the author mean “unclear”?). The author’s English is generally very good, but several non-nativisms occur throughout the text. This may occasionally pose a problem in as much as it can at times, although very rarely, obscure the idea behind the formulation to the point that it is rather difficult to be sure what exactly the author is trying to convey to the reader. The Table of Contents is not entirely synchronised with the actual pagination and “1. Introduction” in the head of p. 117 is misplaced. The monograph is equipped with a comprehensive and generous (in particular by as-

140

signing the individual entries a linguistic affiliation) index (pp. 219–237), that leads the reader to the onomastic and the appellative language material (be it reconstructed or factual). One perhaps misses more elucidation on different sets of exposed phenomena (mostly of phonological nature) that the author has dealt with at length elsewhere. At least the main points of argumentation should be given at the relevant sections. In summary this is a fine and very capable addition to paleohispanic linguistics, comparative philology of Celtic languages (contributing importantly to every level of linguistic expression), and a refinement of several difficult aspects of the comparative grammar of Indo-European languages in general.

References Meid, Wolfgang. 2005. Keltische Personennamen in Pannonien. Budapest: Archaeolingua. Olsen, Birgit Anette. 2010. Derivation and Composition. Two Studies in Indo-European Word Formation. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachen und Literaturen der Universität Innsbruck. Repanšek, Luka. 2016a. Review of Alexander Falileyev: In Search of the Eastern Celts. Journal of Celtic Linguistics 17: 239–280. Repanšek, Luka. 2016b. Quiemonis and the epichoric anthroponymy of Ig. Arheološki vestnik 67: 321–257. Repanšek, Luka. 2016c. Keltska dedišőina v toponimiji jugovzhodnega alpskega prostora. Ljubljana: ZRC SAZU, Založba ZRC. Repanšek, Luka. 2017. New Onomastic Evidence from Ig. Historische Sprachforschung 130, forthcoming. Sims-Williams, Patrick. 2003. The Celtic Inscriptions of Britain: Phonology and Chronology, c. 400–1200. London: Blackwell. Uhlich, Jürgen. 2003. Die Reflexe der keltischen Suffix-Varianten *-݈o- und *-i݈o- im Altirischen. In: Rockel, M., Zimmer, S. (Hrsg.), Akten des ersten Symposiums deutschsprachiger Keltologen, Gosen bei Berlin, 8.–10. April 1992: 353–370. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag.

Reports / ʘ˛˙˗ˌːʸ ɾ. ʈ. ɵʼ˙˛˙ʻ†, ɭ. ʎ. ɯˀˊ˕ˀ˚ːˌ˗‡ † ʒ˥˨˨˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˆ˥˨˫ˊˁ˧˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˆ˫ˢˁˣ˘˪ˁ˧ˣ˻˙ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ); [email protected] ‡ ʒ˥˨˨˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˆ˥˨˫ˊˁ˧˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˙ ˆ˫ˢˁˣ˘˪ˁ˧ˣ˻˙ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨˘˪ˋ˪ (ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ); [email protected]

XII ˞˛ʸʿˌ˨ˌ˙˗˗˯ˀ ˩˞ˀ˗ˌ˴ ˚ʸ˖˴˞ˌ ʎ. ɭ. ʎ˞ʸ˛˙˜˞ˌ˗ʸ ʍ˥˨˜˅ˁ, ʒɴɴʘ, 23–24 ˢˁ˧˪ˁ 2017 ˆ˥ˊˁ 23–24 ˢˁ˧˪ˁ 2017 ˆ˥ˊˁ ˅ ʍ˥˨˜˅ˋ ˦˥ˊ ˽ˆ˘ˊ˥˙ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ˁ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ ˨˥˨˪˥̀༤˘˨˼ XII ˵˪ˋˣ˘̀ ˦ˁˢ̀˪˘ ʓˋ˧ˆˋ̀ ɯˣˁ˪˥༤˼ˋ˅˘˵ˁ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ. ʑˋ˧˅˻˙ ˊˋˣ˼ ˄˻༤ ˦˥˨˅̀˹ˋˣ ˅˥˦˧˥˨ˁˢ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘˖˫˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˘ˣˊ˥ˋ˅˧˥˦ˋ˙˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˣ˥˨˪˧ˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅; ˅˥ ˅˪˥˧˥˙ ˊˋˣ˼ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁ༤˘˨˼ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ˻ ˘˖˫˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ɹ˅˧ˁ˖˘˘, ɯ˱˧˘˜˘ ˘ ʟˋˣ˪˧ˁ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ɯˢˋ˧˘˜˘. ʑ˥ ˪˧ˁˊ˘˴˘˘ ˜˥ˣ˱ˋ˧ˋˣ˴˘˿ ˥˪˜˧˻༤ ˊ˘˧ˋ˜˪˥˧ ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ˁ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʃ༤˼̀ ʓˢ˘˧ˣ˥˅, ˖ˁ˪ˋˢ ˅˻˨˪˫˦˘༤ ɴˋ˥˧ˆ˘˙ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ ˨ ˥˄˖˥˧˥ˢ ˣ˥˅ˋ˙˸˘˲ ˊ˥˨˪˘ːˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˥˄༤ˁ˨˪˘ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥-˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀. ʕˋ˖˘˨˻ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˥˅ ˘ ˦˧ˋ˖ˋˣ˪ˁ˴˘˘ ˊ˥˨˪˫˦ˣ˻ ˣˁ ˨ˁ˙˪ˋ ˦˧˥ˋ˜˪ˁ «ɳˁ˅˘༤˥ˣ˨˜ˁ̀ ˄ˁ˸ˣ̀» 1. ʎˁ ˫˪˧ˋˣˣˋ˙ ˨ˋ˨˨˘˘ ˦ˋ˧˅˥ˆ˥ ˊˣ̀ ˵˪ˋˣ˘˙ ɯ˧˪ˋˢ ʕ˧˥˱˘ˢ˥˅ (ʌˁ˄˥˧ˁ˪˥˧˘̀ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʣɯɴʃ ʒɯʎʝ˘ɴʓ) ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅˘༤ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ «ʐ˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥˨˪˘ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˊ༤̀ ˅ˋˊ˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˁ˅ˋ˨˪˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˅». ɸ˥˜༤ˁˊ˵˘˜ ˥˪ˢˋ˪˘༤, ˵˪˥ ˨˦˘˨˜˘ ˊ༤̀ «ʒ˘ˆ˅ˋˊ˻» ˘ «ɯ˪˲ˁ˧˅ˁ˅ˋˊ˻» ˢ˥ˆ˫˪ ˄˻˪˼ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˻ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥, ˦˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ «ɯ˪˲ˁ˧˅ˁ˅ˋˊˁ» ˦˥ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘˿ ˨ «ʒ˘ˆ˅ˋˊ˥˙» ˘ˢˋˋ˪ 5 ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˘ 3 ˢ˥˧˱˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ. ɸ༤̀ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˁ˅ˋ˨˪˘˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˥ ˦˧˘˅༤ˋ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ «ʍ༤ˁˊ˸ˋ˙ ɯ˅ˋ˨˪˻», ˅˜༤˿˵ˁ̀ ˨ˁˢ˻ˋ ˦˥˖ˊˣ˘ˋ ˘˨˪˥˵ˣ˘˜˘, ˪ˁ˜˘ˋ ˜ˁ˜ «ɳ˘ˊˋ˅ˊˁ˪» ˘ ˁ˅ˋ˨˪˘˙˨˜˥˦ˋ˲༤ˋ˅˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˨༤˥˅ˁ˧˼. ʎˋ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ˅˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘̀ ˥˨˪ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˨˥ˢˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˢ˘, ˪. ˜. ˅˨˪˧ˋ˵ˁ˿˪˨̀ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˅ ˜˥ˢ˦˥˖˘˪ˁ˲. ʑ˧˥˄༤ˋˢ˫ ˄༤˘˖˜˘˲ ˨˘ˣ˥ˣ˘ˢ˥˅ ˅ ˅ˋˊ˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˅ ˁ˅ˋ˨˪˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˪ˋ˜˨˪ˁ˲ ɯ. ɯ. ʕ˧˥˱˘ˢ˥˅ ˦˧ˋˊ༤ˁˆˁˋ˪ ˧ˋ˸ˁ˪˼, ˅˻˄˘˧ˁ̀ ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ˨˅˥˄˥ˊˣ˫˿ ˥˪ ˢ˘˱˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˜˥ˣˣ˥˪ˁ˴˘˙ ༤ˋ˜˨ˋˢ˫. ʕˁ˜, ˊ༤̀ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ‘person’ ˅˻˄˘˧ˁˋ˪˨̀ jána-, ˪. ˜. mŊяnuࡆa˥˄˥˖ˣˁ˵ˁˋ˪ ˵ˋ༤˥˅ˋ˜ˁ, ˦˧˥˪˘˅˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˄˥ˆˁˢ, ˁ pƉяruࡆa- — ˵ˋ༤˥˅ˋ˜ˁ, ˦˧˥˪˘˅˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ː˘˅˥˪ˣ˻ˢ, ˘ ˢ˘˱˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦ˋ˧˨˥ˣˁːˁ. ʓ˦ˋ˴˘1

http://starling.rinet.ru/confer/confer2017.htm.

˱˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢˁ, ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˨ ˁ˅ˋ˨˪˘˙˨˜˥˙ ˨˥ˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˙, ˨˥˨˪˥˘˪ ˅ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˨˘ˣ˥ˣ˘ˢ˥˅, ˥˄˥˖ˣˁ˵ˁ˿˹˘˲ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˪ˋ༤ ˁ˲˫˧˥˅ ˘ ˊ˽˅˥˅. ɳ ˨˘༤˫ ˄˥༤˼˸ˋ˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˥˪ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˘ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˦˧˥˖˧ˁ˵ˣ˥˙ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˅˻˄˘˧ˁˋ˪˨̀ «ˁ˲˫˧˥˅˨˜ˁ̀» ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˁ. ɳ ˪˧ˋ˲ ˨༤˫˵ˁ̀˲ ˦˧˥˪˘˅˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ̀˅༤̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˪˧ˋ˲˵༤ˋˣˣ˻ˢ. ʐˊ˘ˣ ˘˖ ˣ˘˲ — ‘belly’: udara- (ˣˋˢˁ˧˜˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˥ˋ), uruΓuuan- (˥˄ ˁ˲˫˧ˁ˲), maršu- (˥ ˊ˽˅ˁ˲). ɳ ˽˪˥ˢ ˘ ˅ ˊ˅˫˲ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˨༤˫˵ˁ̀˲ (‘head’ ˘ ‘ear’), ˣˋ˨ˢ˥˪˧̀ ˣˁ ˢˋˣ˼˸˫˿ ˵ˁ˨˪˥˪ˣ˥˨˪˼, ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥˙ ˨˵˘˪ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˣˋˢˁ˧˜˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣˁ̀ ༤ˋ˜˨ˋˢˁ. ʐˊˣˁ ˘˖ ˖ˣˁ˵˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ — ˨˫˦˦༤ˋ˪˘˅˘˖ˢ ˅ˋˊ˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˆ༤ˁˆ˥༤˥˅. ɯ. ɯ. ʕ˧˥˱˘ˢ˥˅˫ ˫ˊˁ༤˥˨˼ ˅˻̀˅˘˪˼ ˨˦ˋ˴˘˱˘˜˫ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˥˪ˊˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˥˨ˣ˥˅: ˊ༤̀ ˆ༤ˁˆ˥༤ˁ ˨˥ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ‘eat’ ˜ˁ˜ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˋ ˅˻˄˧ˁˣ˻ ad- ˘ aŻ-, ˪. ˜. ˊ༤̀ ˥˨ˣ˥˅˻ ghas- ˅ «ʒ˘ˆ˅ˋˊˋ» ˫˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ‘ˋ˨˪˼ (˥ ː˘˅˥˪ˣ˻˲)’; ˊ༤̀ ‘say’ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˋ — brav-ɍ/ Ŋh-, ˁ vak-ɍ/ɏvac- — ‘(˦˧˥)˅˥˖ˆ༤ˁ˸ˁ˪˼ (˅ ˧˘˪˫ˁ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˜˥ˣ˪ˋ˜˨˪ˁ˲)’. ʘ˨˥˅ˋ˧˸ˋˣ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘˿ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘ ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊˁ ˊ˅˫˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˦˥˨˅̀˹ˋˣ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ ʍ˘˲ˁ˘༤ˁ ɳˁ˨˘༤˼ˋ˅ˁ ˘ ʍ˘˲ˁ˘༤ˁ ʓˁˋˣ˜˥ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) «ʕ˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁ ˦˧˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘: ˊˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˧˥ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅». ɯ˅˪˥˧˻ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘༤˘ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ʍ. ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ, ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˘ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˫˿ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼. ʑ˥ ˘˲ ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˋ, ˦˧˥˴ˋ˨˨ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ˪˥˵ˣ˥ ˥˦˘˨˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤̀ˢ˘ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˘ ˦˥˪˥˜˥˅˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼˿ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˘˲ ˦˧ˋˊ˅ˁ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˜ˁ༤˘˄˧˥˅˜˘. ʨ˪˥ ˦˧˘˅ˋ༤˥ ˘˲ ˜ ˅˻˅˥ˊ˫, ˵˪˥ ˄˥༤˼˸ˁ̀ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣˁ̀ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˣˁ ˣˋ˄˥༤˼˸˘˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˊ˘˨˪ˁˣ˴˘̀˲ ˨˪ˁ˅˘˪ ˦˥ˊ ˨˥ˢˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˦˧ˁ˜˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˫˿ ˴ˋˣˣ˥˨˪˼ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˦˧˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˊ˘˅ˋ˧ˆˋˣ˴˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤˘˅˸˘˲˨̀ ˢˋˣˋˋ 1,5 ˪˻˨. ༤ˋ˪ ˣˁ˖ˁˊ. ʕˋ˥˧ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˻ ˆ˥˧ˁ˖ˊ˥ ༤˫˵˸ˋ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣ˘ˢ˻ ˣˁ ˄˥༤˼˸˘˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˆ༤˫˄˘ˣˁ˲, ˪. ˜. ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣˁ̀ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣˁ ˊ˥˅ˋ˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ ˫ˢˋˣ˼˸ˁˋ˪˨̀. ʎˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˥ ˨˫ːˁˋ˪ ˊ˥˅ˋ-

Journal of Language Relationship • ɳ˥˦˧˥˨˻ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ • 15/2 (2017) • Pp. 141–146 • © The authors, 2017

Reports / ʝ˧˥ˣ˘˜ˁ

˧˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˘ˋ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ ˣˋ ˊ˅˫˲, ˁ ˪˧ˋ˲ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢ˥˅. ʑ˥ ˢˣˋˣ˘˿ ˁ˅˪˥˧˥˅, ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˋ ˦˥˅˻˸ˋˣ˘ˋ ˪˥˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˵ˋ˪˥˅ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˅ ˦ˋ˧˅˫˿ ˥˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˼ ˖ˁ ˨˵ˋ˪ ˧ˁ˨˸˘˧ˋˣ˘̀ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˻˲ ˨˦˘˨˜˥˅, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˦˧˘˅༤ˋ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˥˦˥༤ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˊˁˣˣ˻˲ ˊ༤̀ ˫˪˥˵ˣˋˣ˘̀ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤ˋ˙ ˣˁ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ˋ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻˲ ˨ˋˢˋ˙ ˘ ˣˁ ˧ˁ˖ˣ˻˲ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˻˲ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˅ˁ༤ˁ˲. ɯˣ˪˥ˣ ʇ˥ˆˁˣ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) ˅ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ «ɹ˹ˋ ˧ˁ˖ ˥ ˆˋˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˊ˥˜˫ˢˋˣ˪˥˅ ˘˖ ʎ˘̀ (ɳ˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˙ ʕ˫˧˜ˋ˨˪ˁˣ)» ˦ˋ˧ˋ˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋ༤ ˅˻ˊ˅˘ˣ˫˪˫˿ ʕ˥ˢˁ˨˥ˢ ɲˁ˧˧˥˫ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˫ ˥ ˦˧˘ˣˁˊ༤ˋːˣ˥˨˪˘ ˜ ˊˁ˧ˊ˨˜˥˙ ˆ˧˫˦˦ˋ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˊ˥˜˫ˢˋˣ˪˥˅ ˘˖ ˥ˁ˖˘˨ˁ ʎ˘̀ (III ˅. ˣ. ˽.) ˣˁ ˪ˋ˧˧˘˪˥˧˘˘ ˨˥˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ʓ˘ˣ˼˴˖̀ˣ-ʘ˙ˆ˫˧˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˁ˅˪˥ˣ˥ˢˣ˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˙˥ˣˁ ʇʎʒ, ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣˣ˻˲ ˦˘˨˼ˢ˥ˢ ˜˲ˁ˧˥˸˪˲˘. ʕ. ɲˁ˧˧˥˫ ˦˥˨˪˫༤˘˧˫ˋ˪ ˥˨˥˄˫˿ ˄༤˘˖˥˨˪˼ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˨ ̀˖˻˜˥ˢ ˪˥˧˅ˁ༤˘ ˜˥˲˘˨˪ˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˦˥ˊˆ˧˫˦˦˻ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˥ˊˁ˧ˊ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ʑ˥ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ ˆ༤˥˪˪˥˲˧˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘, ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊ ˜˥˲˘˨˪ˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˥˄˹ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˊˁ˪˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ III ˅. ˣ. ˽., ˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ̀˖˻˜ ˊ˥˜˫ˢˋˣ˪˥˅ ˘˖ ʎ˘̀ ˊ˥༤ːˋˣ ˥˪˧ˁːˁ˪˼ ˦˧ˁ˜˥˲˘˨˪ˁˣ˨˜˥ˋ ˨˥˨˪˥̀ˣ˘ˋ. ɹˊ˘ˣ˨˪˅ˋˣˣˁ̀ ˘˖˥ˆ༤˥˨˨ˁ, ˜˥˪˥˧˫˿ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪ ʕ. ɲˁ˧˧˥˫ ˜ˁ˜ ˁ˧ˆ˫ˢˋˣ˪ ˅ ˦˥༤˼˖˫ ˄༤˘˖˥˨˪˘ ˨ ˪˥˧˅ˁ༤˘ — sv > Żv, Żv > Żp, sm > m. ʐˊˣˁ˜˥, ˜ˁ˜ ˥˪ˢˋ˪˘༤ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˵˘˜, ˽˪˘ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊ˻ ˘ˢˋ˿˪ ˪˘˦˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˦ˁ˧ˁ༤༤ˋ༤˘ ˅ ˧ˁ˖ˣ˻˲ ˘ˣˊ˥˘˧ˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲, ˁ ˅ˣ˫˪˧˘ ˜˥˲˘˨˪ˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻ ˣˁ˄༤˿ˊˁ˿˪˨̀ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˅ ˪˥˧˅ˁ༤˘. ʨ˪˥ ˥˄˨˪˥̀˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˥ ˣˋ ˦˥˖˅˥༤̀ˋ˪ ˅˻˅˥ˊ˘˪˼ ˘˲ ˣˁ ˦˧ˁ˜˥˲˘˨˪ˁˣ˨˜˘˙ ˫˧˥˅ˋˣ˼. ɯ. ʃ. ʇ˥ˆˁˣ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋ༤ ˘˖˥ˆ༤˥˨˨˻, ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤̀˿˹˘ˋ ˊˁ˧ˊ˨˜˘ˋ ˘ ˘ˣˊ˥ˁ˧˘˙˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘: ˧ˋ˱༤ˋ˜˨ *r๗ ˘ ˣˁ༤˘˵˘ˋ «ˊˁ˧ˊ˨˜˥˙ ˢˋ˪ˁ˪ˋ˖˻»; ˧ˋ˱༤ˋ˜˨˻ ˖˅˥ˣ˜˘˲ ˦˧˘ˊ˻˲ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲; ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘̀ ˊ˧.-˘ˣˊ. kࡆ. ɳ˨ˋ ˥ˣ˘ ˥˄˺ˋˊ˘ˣ̀˿˪ ̀˖˻˜ ˊ˥˜˫ˢˋˣ˪˥˅ ˘˖ ʎ˘̀ ˨ ˘ˣˊ˥ˁ˧˘˙˨˜˘ˢ˘, ˣ˥ ˣˋ ˨ ˊˁ˧ˊ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘. ɸ˅ˋ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˘˖˥ˆ༤˥˨˨˻, ˥˄˹˘ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˊ˘˥ˢˁ ˘ ˊˁ˧ˊ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ (patama ‘˨˖ˁˊ˘’, jaગdu- ‘˖ˢˋ̀ (?)’), ˢ˥ˆ˫˪ ˄˻˪˼ ˘ˣ˪ˋ˧˦˧ˋ˪˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˻ ˜ˁ˜ ˜˥ˣ˪ˁ˜˪ˣ˻ˋ ̀˅༤ˋˣ˘̀. ɳ ˘˪˥ˆˋ ˄˻༤ ˨ˊˋ༤ˁˣ ˅˻˅˥ˊ, ˵˪˥ ̀˖˻˜ ˊ˥˜˫ˢˋˣ˪˥˅ ˘˖ ʎ˘̀, ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥, ˄˻༤ ˨˥˨ˋˊ˥ˢ ˊˁ˧ˊ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅, ˣ˥ ˋˆ˥ ˦˧˘ˣˁˊ༤ˋːˣ˥˨˪˼ ˜ ˽˪˥˙ ˦˥ˊˆ˧˫˦˦ˋ ˘˨˜༤˿˵ˋˣˁ. ɳ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ «“ʑ˫˪˼ — ˊ˥˧˥ˆˁ” (̘ɍ68 ˘˖ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ): ˫˪˥˵ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˨ˋˢˁˣ˪˘˜˘ ˘ ˦˥˦˻˪˜ˁ ˅˻̀˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˪˘˦˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˫ˣ˘˅ˋ˧˨ˁ༤˘˙» ʕˁ˪˼̀ˣˁ ʍ˘˲ˁ˙༤˥˅ˁ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋ༤ˁ ˦ˁ˧ˁ༤༤ˋ༤˼ˣ˻ˋ ˨ˋˢˁˣ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ ˨༤˥˅ ˊ༤̀ ˥˄˥˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˊˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˜˥ˣ˴ˋ˦˪ˁ ˅ ˜ˋ༤˼˪˨˜˘˲, ˆˋ˧ˢˁˣ˨˜˘˲, ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˄ˁ༤˪˘˙˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲. ʐˣˁ ˦˥ˊ˵ˋ˧˜ˣ˫༤ˁ, ˵˪˥ ˣˋ ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˘˨˜˫˨˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ ˫ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣ̀˪˼ ˨˦˘˨˥˜. ʕˁ˜, ˊ༤̀ ˣˋˢˋ˴˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˅ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˘ ‘road’ ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˥ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁ˪˼ ˧ˁˣˣˋˋ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˘˖ ˣˁ˧˥ˊˣ˥˙ ༤ˁ˪˻ˣ˘ Straße, ˁ ˣˋ ˨˪ˁ142

˧˥ˋ Weg. ʓ˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˴ˋ˦˥˵˜ˁ ˪˘˦˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˨ˋˢˁˣ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˲˥ˊ˥˅: ‘ˊ˥˧˥ˆˁ’ > ‘˦˫˪˼ (˅ ˅˻˨˥˜˥ˢ ˨ˢ˻˨༤ˋ)’ > ‘˨˦˥˨˥˄/˥˄˧ˁ˖ ˊˋ˙˨˪˅˘̀’. ʐ˄˹ˋ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˨˜˥ˋ *pাt˰ ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ˘༤˥˨˼ ˅ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˘ ‘road’ ˅ ˢˁ˜ˋˊ˥ˣ˨˜˥ˢ, ˄˥༤ˆˁ˧˨˜˥ˢ ˘ ˨ˋ˧˄˥˲˥˧˅ˁ˪˨˜˥ˢ, ˨˧. ˧˫˨. ˚˟˞˰ ˘ ˨ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˻ˢ ˧˫˨˨˜˥ˢ˫ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˵ˋ˸. pout’. ʜ˘ˆ˫˧ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ˘༤˘ ˁˣˆ༤. way, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˊ˧.-˘˧༤. sét < *sentu-. ʕ. ɯ. ʍ˘˲ˁ˙༤˥˅ˁ ˅˻ˊˋ༤˘༤ˁ ˊ˅ˁ ˪˘˦ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁˢˋˣ ˊ༤̀ ˜˥ˣ˴ˋ˦˪ˁ ‘road’: «˦˥ ༤˘ˣ˘˘ maker» (˧˫˨. ʿ˙˛˙ʼʸ, ˵ˋ˸. cesta, ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣ˻ˋ ˨ ˘ˊˋˋ˙ ˧ˁ˨˵˘˨˪˜˘ ˦˫˪˘) ˘ «˦˥ ༤˘ˣ˘˘ user» (༤˘˪. kelias, ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˣ˥ˋ ˨ ˘ˊˋˋ˙ ˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘̀). ʐ˄˹ˋ˜ˋ༤˼˪. *sentu- ˅ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˘ ‘road’ ˅˻˪ˋ˨ˣˋˣ˥ ˅ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˘˧༤ˁˣˊ˨˜˥ˢ ˨༤˥˅˥ˢ slige — ˘˖ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ ‘˦˧˥˨ˋ˜ˁ’ (˨˧. ˨༤ˁ˅̀ˣ˨˜˥ˋ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘ˋ), sét ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ̀ˋ˪ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘̀ ‘˪˧˥˦ˁ’, ‘˦˫˪˼ (˅˻˨˥˜˥ˋ)’, ‘˨˫ˊ˼˄ˁ’. ʁˁ˪ˋˢ slige ˦˥˅˪˥˧˘༤˥ ˨˫ˊ˼˄˫ sét, ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ˘˅˸˘˨˼ ˅ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˘ ‘˦˫˪˼ (˅˻˨˥˜˥ˋ)’, ‘ˣˁ˦˧ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ’. ʐ˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥ˋ ːˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ‘road’ ˅ ˘˧༤ˁˣˊ˨˜˥ˢ ˦˧˘˥˄˧ˋ༤ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨ˋˢˁ bothar — ˘˖ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ ‘˜˥˧˥˅˼̀ ˪˧˥˦ˁ’. ʓ˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨ˋˢˁˣ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀ ˅ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˘˧༤ˁˣˊ˨˜˥ˢ ˘ ˸˥˪༤ˁˣˊ˨˜˥ˢ ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁˋ˪ ˪ˋ˥˧˘˿ ˁ˅˪˥˧ˁ ˥ ˆ˥˙ˊˋ༤˼˨˜˥ˢ ˅ˋ˪˅༤ˋˣ˘˘. ɳ ˅ˁ༤༤˘˙˨˜˥ˢ hynt ˅ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘˘ ‘road’ ˅˻˪ˋ˨ˣˋˣ˥ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋˢ ffordd ˨˥ ˨˪ˁ˧˻ˢ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ‘˄˧˥ˊ’. ɯ˜˪˫ˁ༤˼ˣ˻ˢ ˅˥˦˧˥˨ˁˢ ˜˥ˢ˦˼˿˪ˋ˧ˣ˻˲ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥˅ ˅ ༤˘ˣˆ˅˘˨˪˘˜ˋ ˄˻༤ ˦˥˨˅̀˹ˋˣ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ ɯ༤ˋ˜˨ˁˣˊ˧˻ ɹ˅ˊ˥˜˘ˢ˥˅˥˙ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) «ʑ˧˥˄༤ˋˢˁ ˵༤ˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˪ˋ˜˨˪ˁ ˅ ˅˘˖ˁˣ˪˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˣˁˊ˦˘˨̀˲ ˘ ˅ ˧̀ˊˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˨˥ ˨༤˘˪ˣ˻ˢ ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣ˘ˋˢ ˦˧˘ ˜˥ˢ˦˼˿˪ˋ˧ˣ˥ˢ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ˋ». ɳ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ ˄˻༤˘ ˦˥ˊ˧˥˄ˣ˥ ˧ˁ˖˥˄˧ˁˣ˻ ˪˧˫ˊˣ˥˨˪˘, ˅˥˖ˣ˘˜ˁ˿˹˘ˋ ˦˧˘ ˵༤ˋˣˋˣ˘˘ ˨˪˧˥˜˘ ˘˖ ˅˘˖ˁˣ˪˘˙˨˜˥˙ ˦˥˨˅̀˪˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˣˁˊ˦˘˨˘. ʒˋ˵˼ ˸༤ˁ ˥˄ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˥˙ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢˋ ˁ˅˪˥ˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦ˁ˧˨ˋ˧˘ˣˆˁ ˨༤˘˪ˣ˻˲ ˪ˋ˜˨˪˥˅ — ˥ ˪ˁ˜ ˣˁ˖˻˅ˁˋˢ˥ˢ «˜˥ˢ˄˘ˣˁ˪˥˧ˣ˥ˢ ˅˖˧˻˅ˋ». ʑ˧˥˄༤ˋˢˁ ˨˥˨˪˥˘˪ ˅ ˥ˆ˧˥ˢˣ˥ˢ ˜˥༤˘˵ˋ˨˪˅ˋ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˵༤ˋˣˋˣ˘˙ ˪ˋ˜˨˪ˁ, ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˦˥˨˪˧˥˘˪˼ ˜˥ˢ˦˼˿˪ˋ˧. ʐ˦˘˧ˁ̀˨˼ ˣˁ ˥˦˻˪ ˧ˁ˄˥˪˻ ˨ ˁ˧ˁ˄˨˜˘ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥ˢ, ɯ. ɯ. ɹ˅ˊ˥˜˘ˢ˥˅ˁ ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ː˘༤ˁ ˖ˁˊˁ˅ˁ˪˼ ˱˥˧ˢ˫༤˫ ˨˪˧˫˜˪˫˧˻ ˨༤˥˅˥˱˥˧ˢ˻, ˵˪˥ ˥˪˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˦˥ˢ˥ˆ༤˥ ˄˻ ˦˧ˁ˅˘༤˼ˣ˥ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖˘˧˥˅ˁ˪˼ ˣˋ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˻ˋ ˜˥ˢ˦˼˿˪ˋ˧˫ ˨༤˥˅ˁ. ʕˁ˜ːˋ ˥ˣˁ ˥˪ˢˋ˪˘༤ˁ, ˵˪˥ ˵༤ˋˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˥˪ ˜˥ˣ˴ˁ ˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˵ˋ˪˜˘ˢ ˘ ˊˁˋ˪ ˢˋˣ˼˸ˋ ˅ˁ˧˘ˁˣ˪˥˅. ɲ˻༤ˁ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣˁ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˨˪˧˫˜˪˫˧˻ ˨༤˥˅˥˱˥˧ˢ˻ ˦˥ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˨ ˁˆˆ༤˿˪˘ˣˁ˪˘˅ˣ˻ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘ ˅ ˅˘ˊˋ ˊˋ˧ˋ˅ˁ. ʑ˥ ˖ˁ˜༤˿˵ˋˣ˘˿ ˁ˅˪˥˧ˁ, ˣˁ ˊˁˣˣ˻˙ ˢ˥ˢˋˣ˪ ˘˖˄ˋːˁ˪˼ «˜˥ˢ˄˘ˣˁ˪˥˧ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˅˖˧˻˅ˁ» ˘ ˪ˋˢ ˨ˁˢ˻ˢ ˧ˋ˸˘˪˼ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ˫ ˁ˅˪˥ˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˦ˁ˧˨ˋ˧˘ˣˆˁ ˨༤˘˪ˣ˻˲ ˪ˋ˜˨˪˥˅ ˅˨ˋ-˪ˁ˜˘ ˣˋ ˫ˊˁˋ˪˨̀. ʃ༤˼̀ ɴ˧˫ˣ˪˥˅ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) ˘ ʐ༤˼ˆˁ ʍˁ˖˥ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ) ˅ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ «ʐ˴ˋˣ˜ˁ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˻ ˥ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪-

XII ˪˧ˁˊ˘˴˘˥ˣˣ˻ˋ ˵˪ˋˣ˘̀ ˦ˁˢ̀˪˘ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ

˅˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˢˋ˨˪˥˘ˢˋˣ˘˙ ˅ ˢ˥ˣˆ˥༤˼˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˪˫ˣˆ˫˨˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲ ˘˖ ˄˫༤ˆˁ˧˨˜˥-˪˿˧˜˨˜˥ˆ˥: ˜˥ˢˢˋˣ˪ˁ˧˘˘ ˜ ˨˪ˁ˪˼ˋ ɯ༤ˋ˜˨ˁˣˊ˧ˁ ɳ˥˅˘ˣˁ» ˧ˁ˖˥˄˧ˁ༤˘ ˁ˧ˆ˫ˢˋˣ˪˻, ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘ˢ˻ˋ ˁ˅˪˥˧˥ˢ ˨˪ˁ˪˼˘ (Vovin 2011) ˅ ˦˥༤˼˖˫ ˊˁˣˣ˥˙ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˻. ɸ༤̀ ˪˿˧˜˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˵ˋ˧ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ b/m, ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˋ ɯ. ɳ˥˅˘ˣ ˨˵˘˪ˁˋ˪ ˦˧˘˖ˣˁ˜˥ˢ ˄˫༤ˆˁ˧˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘̀, ʃ. ɯ. ɴ˧˫ˣ˪˥˅ ˘ ʐ. ʍ. ʍˁ˖˥ ˣˁ˲˥ˊ̀˪ ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˿ ˅ ˢ˥ˣˆ˥༤˼˨˜˥ˢ ˅ ˅˘ˊˋ ˨˅˥˄˥ˊˣ˥ˆ˥ ˅ˁ˧˼˘˧˥˅ˁˣ˘̀, ˦˧˘˅༤ˋ˜ˁ̀ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ ˄˫˧̀˪˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ: ˢ˥ˣˆ. büyile ‘ˊˋ˨ˣ˻’ — ˄˫˧. ˖ˡˍ˕˱ɍ/ɏ˖˯˕˱, ˨˪.-ˢ˥ˣˆ. qobur ‘˧ˋˊ˜˘˙’ — ˄˫˧. ˦˙˖˙˛; ˗ʸ˖ˬʸɍ/ɏ˗ʸʺˬʸ ‘༤˘˨˪˼̀’; qabar/qamar ‘ˣ˥˨’; ˢ˥ˣˆ. metü ‘˜ˁ˜’ — ˄˫˧. ˖˱˞˱, ʺ˱˞˱, ʺˡ˞˱. ʐ˦˧˥˅ˋ˧ˆˁ̀ ˪ˋ˖˘˨ ɯ. ɳ˥˅˘ˣˁ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˦˥˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁ˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˨˪˼ min ˅˨˪˧ˋ˵ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˅ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁˋˢ˻˲ ˢˋ˨˪˥˘ˢˋˣ˘̀˲ ˘ ˅ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘̀˲, ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˵˘˜˘ ˦˧˘˅ˋ༤˘ ˄˫˧. ˖ˌ˗˄ ‘˄˥˄˧’. ʐˣ˘ ˥˪ˢˋ˪˘༤˘, ˵˪˥ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖ˁ ɯ. ɳ˥˅˘ˣˁ ˣˋ ˥˄˺̀˨ˣ̀ˋ˪ ˢ˥ˣˆ˥༤˼˨˜˘˙ ˘ ˪˫ˣˆ˫˨˨˜˘˙ ˁ˄༤ˁ˫˪. ʑ˥ ˘˲ ˢˣˋˣ˘˿, ˥˨˪ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˣˋ˦˥ˣ̀˪ˣ˻ˢ, ˦˥˵ˋˢ˫ ˦˧˘ ˪˥ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˄˥༤˼˸˘ˋ ˦༤ˁ˨˪˻ ˄ˁ˖˥˅˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˻ ˅ ˪˫ˣˆ˫˨˨˜˘˙ ˵ˋ˧ˋ˖ ˢ˥ˣˆ˥༤˼˨˜˘˙, ˽˪˥ ˣˋ˅ˋ˧ˣ˥ ˊ༤̀ ˪ˁ˜˥ˆ˥ ˄ˁ˖˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˨༤˥˅ˁ, ˜ˁ˜ ˢˋ˨˪˥˘ˢˋˣ˘ˋ 2-ˆ˥ ༤˘˴ˁ. ɯ˅˪˥˧˻ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˁ ˫˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁ˿˪ ˣˁ ˣˁ༤˘˵˘ˋ ˅ ˪˫ˣˆ˫˨˨˜˥ˢ ˘ ˢ˥ˣˆ˥༤˼˨˜˥ˢ ˦˧˥˪˘˅˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˘ˣ˜༤˿˖˘˅ˣ˻˲ ˘ ˽˜˨˜༤˿˖˘˅ˣ˻˲ ˢˋ˨˪˥˘ˢˋˣ˘˙ 1-ˆ˥ ༤˘˴ˁ ˢˣ˥ːˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˵˘˨༤ˁ, ˥˪˨˫˪˨˪˅˫˿˹ˋˋ ˅ ˪˿˧˜˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲. ɴ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖ˁ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁ༤ˁ ˄˻ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˨˪˧˥˙˜˫ ˦˥ˊ ˣˋˆ˥ ˅˨ˋ˙ ˨˘˨˪ˋˢ˻. ɳ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ ˘ ˧̀ˊ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ ˁ˧ˆ˫ˢˋˣ˪ˁ˴˘˘ ɯ. ɳ˥˅˘ˣˁ. ʕˋˢ˫ ˪˿˧˜˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘˙ ˅ ˢ˥ˣˆ˥༤˼˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲ ˦˧˥ˊ˥༤ː˘༤ ʍ˘˲ˁ˘༤ ɾ˘˅༤˥˅ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ; ʌˁ˄˥˧ˁ˪˥˧˘̀ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʣɯɴʃ ʒɯʎʝ˘ɴʓ) ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˥ˢ «ʐ˄ ˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˆ˧˫˦˦ˋ ˪˿˧˜˥-ˢ˥ˣˆ˥༤˼˨˜˘˲ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˦ˁ˧ˁ༤༤ˋ༤ˋ˙». ʐˣ ˅˻ˊˋ༤˘༤ ˆ˧˫˦˦˫ ˨༤˥˅, ˦˧˘ˣˁˊ༤ˋːˁ˹˘˲ ˜ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ, ˨ ˥˨˥˄˥˙ ˨˘˨˪ˋˢ˥˙ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘˙ ˆ༤ˁ˨ˣ˻˲: o — u ʑʕ˿. *Koŏ ‘˄ˁ˧ˁˣ’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *kuŏa ‘id.’, ʑʕ˿. *KoŷՓ ‘̀ˆˣˋˣ˥˜’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *kurigan ‘id.’, ʑʕ˿. *toklՓ ‘̀ˆˣˋˣ˥˜ ˊ˥ ˦˥༤˫ˆ˥ˊˁ’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *tugul ‘˪ˋ༤ˋˣ˥˜’, ʑʕ˿. *bodo- ‘˜˧ˁ˨˘˪˼’, *bodo-g ‘˜˧ˁ˨˜ˁ’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *budu- ‘id.’, *budug ‘id.’, ʑʕ˿. *Kopuŷ ‘˅˘ˊ ˢ˫˖˻˜ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ (˨˪˧˫ˣˣ˥ˆ˥) ˘ˣ˨˪˧˫ˢˋˣ˪ˁ’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *kuhur ‘id.’; ö — ü ʑʕ˿. *(h)öküŷ ‘˜˧˫˦ˣ˻˙ ˧˥ˆˁ˪˻˙ ˨˜˥˪’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *hüker ‘id.’; u — i ʑʕ˿. *buŷagu ‘˪ˋ༤ˋˣ˥˜’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *birahu ‘˪ˋ༤ˋˣ˥˜ (1 ˆ˥ˊˁ)’, ʑʕ˿. *jular ‘ˣˋˊ˥˫˖ˊ˥˜’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *़iluha ‘ˣˋˊ˥˫˖ˊ˥˜, ˅˥ːː˘’ (?), ʑʕ˿. *jApaku ‘˨˅ˁ༤̀˅˸ˁ̀˨̀ ˸ˋ˧˨˪˼’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *dahaki ‘༤˘ˣ˼˜ˁ, ˨˅ˁ༤̀˅˸ˁ̀˨̀ ˸ˋ˧˨˪˼’; Ն — a ʑʕ˿. *KՓptu ‘ˣ˥ːˣ˘˴˻’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *kajiŏi (= *kahiŏi) ‘id.’, ʑʕ˿. *KՓs(Փ)rak ‘̀༤˥˅ˁ̀ ˜˥˄˻༤ˁ’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *kasirag ‘˪˧ˋ˲༤ˋ˪ˣ̀̀ ˜˥˧˥˅ˁ, ˪ˋ༤˜ˁ’ (?), ʑʕ˿. *AtՓŷ ‘˥˧˥˸ˁˋˢ˥ˋ ˦˥༤ˋ, ˢˋːˁ’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *(h)atar ‘ˣˋ˥˄˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁˣˣˁ̀ ˖ˋˢ༤̀’, ʑʕ˿. *jAgՓr ‘ˣˁˆˣˋ˪ ˥˪ ˨ˋˊ༤ˁ’

~ ʑʍ˥. *dahari ‘id.’; ӟ — u ʑʕ˿. *Ӡguŷ ‘ˢ˥༤˥˖˘˅˥’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *uhurag ‘id.’, ʑʕ˿. *KӠjՓr ‘˨˥༤˥ˣ˵ˁ˜’ ~ ʑʍ˥. *ku़ir ‘id.’. ʍ. ɯ. ɾ˘˅༤˥˅ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ː˘༤, ˵˪˥ ˽˪˘ ༤ˋ˜˨ˋˢ˻ ˄˻༤˘ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˻ ˅ ˦˧ˁˢ˥ˣˆ˥༤˼˨˜˘˙ ˘˖ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˆ˥ ˣˋ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ˘˅˸ˋˆ˥˨̀ ˦ˁ˧ˁ˪˿˧˜˨˜˥ˆ˥ ̀˖˻˜ˁ. ɳ˪˥˧˥˙ ˊˋˣ˼ ˜˥ˣ˱ˋ˧ˋˣ˴˘˘ ˥˪˜˧˻༤˨̀ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˥ˢ ʓˋ˧ˆˋ̀ ʇ˫༤༤ˁˣˊ˻ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) «ʇ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˨ˋ˅ˋ˧˥˜ˁ˅˜ˁ˖˨˜˘˲ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘˙ ˅ ˧˫˨˨˜˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˋ». ʐˊˣ˥ ˘˖ ˨༤˥˅, ˥ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˸༤ˁ ˧ˋ˵˼ — ˦ˌ˗ːʸ˕ˌ, ˣˁ˖˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˄༤˿ˊˁ ˘˖ ˪ˋ˨˪ˁ ˨ ˢ̀˨ˣ˥˙ ˣˁ˵˘ˣ˜˥˙, ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣˣ˥ˋ ˵ˋ˧ˋ˖ ˆ˧˫˖˘ˣ˨˜˘˙ ˘˖ ˁ˅ˁ˧˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ̀˹ˋˋ ˘˖ ˱˥˧ˢ˻ ˁ˅ˁ˧˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˢˣ˥ːˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˵˘˨༤ˁ ˥˪ hin‫ˋ˦‘ ݧ‬༤˼ˢˋˣ˼, ˲˘ˣ˜ˁ༤˘’. ɸ˥˜༤ˁˊ˵˘˜ ˅˻˨˜ˁ˖ˁ༤ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘ˋ, ˵˪˥ ˅ ˁ˅ˁ˧˨˜˥ˢ ˥ˣ˥ ˘˖ ˦˧ˁ༤ˋ˖ˆ˘ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ *Π:im‫˫˜‘ ݧ‬༤ˁ˜’ (˦˥ ˱˥˧ˢˋ ˦˘˧˥ː˜˥˅). ʐ˨ˣ˥˅˥˙ ˊ༤̀ ˋ˹ˋ ˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ːˋˣˣ˥˙ ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˦˥˨༤˫ː˘༤ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘̀ ˊ˧.-˘ˣˊ. gandharvá- ˘ ˁ˅ˋ˨˪. gaয়dƕrƕ΍a-. ʎˋ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˘ˋ ˁˣ༤ˁ˫˪ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˘ˣˊ˘˙˨˜˥˙ ˘ ˘˧ˁˣ˨˜˥˙ ˱˥˧ˢ, ˨ ˥ˊˣ˥˙ ˨˪˥˧˥ˣ˻, ˘ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋˢ˥ˆ˥ ˥˄˻˵ˣ˥ ˨ ˣ˘ˢ˘ ˆ˧ˋ˵. ̤ϑΧέΜήΪΩΤ (ˢ˘˱˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˦˥༤˫༤˿ˊ˘-˦˥༤˫˜˥ˣ˘), ˨ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥˙ ˨˪˥˧˥ˣ˻, ˥˄˺̀˨ˣ̀ˋ˪˨̀ ˖ˁ˘ˢ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋˢ ˘˖ ˜ˁ˜˥ˆ˥-˪˥ ˨˫˄˨˪˧ˁ˪ˁ. ɸ༤̀ ˋˆ˥ ˘ˊˋˣ˪˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˘, ˦˥ ˢˣˋˣ˘˿ ʓ. ɳ. ʇ˫༤༤ˁˣˊ˻, ˨༤ˋˊ˫ˋ˪ ˥˄˧ˁ˪˘˪˼ ˅ˣ˘ˢˁˣ˘ˋ ˣˁ ˪˥, ˵˪˥ ˆˁˣˊ˲ˁ˧˅˻ — ˢ˘˱˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˅˥˦༤˥˹ˋˣ˘ˋ ˨˥˴˘˥˅˥˖˧ˁ˨˪ˣ˻˲ ˢ˫ː˨˜˘˲ ˨˥˿˖˥˅. ʑ˥ˊ˥˄ˣ˥ ˢ˥༤˥ˊˋː˘ ˘ˣˊ˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˦༤ˋˢˋˣ ʎ˥˅˥ˆ˥ ˘ ʎ˥˅ˋ˙˸ˋˆ˥ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣ˘, ˥˄˘˪ˁ˅˸ˋ˙ ˅ ˢ˫ː˨˜˘˲ ˊ˥ˢˁ˲, ˆˁˣˊ˲ˁ˧˅˻ ˖ˁˣ˘ˢˁ༤˘˨˼ ˦ˋˣ˘ˋˢ, ˢ˫˖˻˜˥˙ ˘ ˪ˁˣ˴ˁˢ˘, ˨˥˅ˋ˧˸ˁ༤˘ ˣˁ˄ˋˆ˘ ˣˁ ˨˥˨ˋˊˋ˙ (˜ˁ˜ ˅ ˘˖˅ˋ˨˪ˣ˥ˢ ˢ˘˱ˋ ˥ ʑ˫˧˫˧ˁ˅ˁ˨ˋ ˘ ʘ˧˅ˁ˸˘), ˅ ˪˥ˢ ˵˘˨༤ˋ ˊ༤̀ ˦˥˲˘˹ˋˣ˘̀ ˣˋ˅ˋ˨˪ («˄˧ˁ˜ˁ ˦˥ ˥˄˻˵ˁ˿ ˆˁˣˊ˲ˁ˧˅˥˅»). ʇˁ˜ ˘ ˘ˣ˘˴˘˘˧˫ˋˢ˻ˋ ˿ˣ˥˸˘, ˥ˣ˘ ˨˵˘˪ˁ༤˘˨˼ ˊ˫˲ˁˢ˘, ˦˧ˋ˄˻˅ˁ˅˸˘ˢ˘ ˅ ˦˧˥ˢˋː˫˪˜ˋ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˊ˅˫ˢ̀ ˧˥ːˊˋˣ˘̀ˢ˘. ʍˋːˊ˫ ˪ˋˢ ˣˁ˖˅ˁˣ˘ˋ, ˨˲˥ˊˣ˥ˋ ˨ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˼˿ ˨༤˥˅ˁ gandharvá-, ˣ˥˨̀˪ ˜ˁˣ˪˻ — ˦ˋ˧˨˥ˣˁː˘ ˥˨ˋ˪˘ˣ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˣˁ˧˪˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˽˦˥˨ˁ; ˅ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˥ ˘ˣ˥˙ ˱˥˧ˢˋ ˽˪˥ ˨༤˥˅˥ ˅˨˪˧ˋ˵ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˫ ˁˊ˻ˆ˥˅ ˜ˁ˜ ˣˁ˖˅ˁˣ˘ˋ ˅˧ˁːˊˋ˄ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˣˁ˧˪ˁˢ ˣˁ˧˥ˊˁ. ɳ˨ˋ ˽˪˥ ˊˁˋ˪ ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ː˘˪˼, ˵˪˥ ˘˨˪˥˵ˣ˘˜˥ˢ ˦˥˨༤˫ː˘༤˥ ˣˁ˲˨˜. *‫ݧ‬an(a)t (˨˧. ˵ˋ˵. ˘ ˘ˣˆ. ‫ݧ‬ant, ˄ˁ˴˄. ‫ݧ‬nat) ‘ˢˁ༤˼˵˘˜, ˿ˣ˥˸ˁ, ˢ˥༤˥ˊˋ˴, ˫ˊˁ༤ˋ˴’ — ˪ˁ˜˥ˋ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˅˦˥༤ˣˋ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘˿ ˥ ˢ˥༤˥ˊ˻˲ ༤˿ˊ̀˲, ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ˦˥ ˨˅˥ˋˢ˫ ˅˥˖˧ˁ˨˪ˣ˥ˢ˫ ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘˿ ˥˄̀˖ˁˣ˻ ˦˧˥̀˅༤̀˪˼ ˫ˊˁ༤˼. ɳ˪˥˧ˁ̀ ˵ˁ˨˪˼ ˨༤˥˅ˁ gandharvá- ˘ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˋˢ˫ ˜˥ˢ˦˥˖˘˪˥˅, ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥, ˦˧˥˘˨˲˥ˊ˘˪ ˥˪ ˦˧ˁˣˁ˲˨˜. *նŊri ‘˸ˁ˙˜ˁ, ˅ˁ˪ˁˆˁ’ (˵ˋ˵. նŖra, ˘ˣˆ. նär, ˄ˁ˴˄. նajrš), ˣˁ˵˘ˣˁ˅˸ˋˆ˥˨̀ ˣˁ ˖˅˥ˣ˜˘˙ ˫˅˫༤̀˧ˣ˻˙ ˱˧˘˜ˁ˪˘˅ˣ˻˙, ˵˪˥ ˨˦˥˨˥˄˨˪˅˥˅ˁ༤˥ ˥˖˅˥ˣ˵ˋˣ˘˿ ˦˧ˋˊ˸ˋ˨˪˅˥˅ˁ˅˸ˋˆ˥ t ˅ ˘ˣˊ˥˘˧ˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜ˁ˲. ʇˁ˜ ˨˵˘˪ˁˋ˪ ʓ. ɳ. ʇ˫༤༤ˁˣˊˁ, ˜ ˪˥ˢ˫ ːˋ ‫ݧ‬ant ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˅˥˨˲˥ˊ˘˪˼ ˧˫˨˨˜˥ˋ ːˁ˧ˆ˥ˣˣ˥ˋ ːˀ˗˞. 143

Reports / ʝ˧˥ˣ˘˜ˁ

ɯ༤ˋ˜˨ˋ˙ ʇˁ˨˼̀ˣ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ; ʌˁ˄˥˧ˁ˪˥˧˘̀ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʣɯɴʃ ʒɯʎʝ˘ɴʓ) ˘ ɴˋ˥˧ˆ˘˙ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ; ʌˁ˄˥˧ˁ˪˥˧˘̀ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʣɯɴʃ ʒɯʎʝ˘ɴʓ) ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅˘༤˘ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ ˦˥ˊ ˣˁ˖˅ˁˣ˘ˋˢ «ɯ˅˪˥ˢˁ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˋˣ˘˨ˋ˙˨˜˥˄˫˧˘˸˨˜˥˙ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ ˘ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪ˣˁ̀ ˥˴ˋˣ˜ˁ ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘˙». ɳ ˣˋˢ ˄˻༤˘ ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ːˋˣ˻ ˊ˥˅˥ˊ˻ ˅ ˦˥༤˼˖˫ ˊˁ˅ˣˋˆ˥ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘̀ ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˋˣ˘˨ˋ˙˨˜˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˼ˋ˙ ˘ ̀˖˻˜˥ˢ-˘˖˥༤̀˪˥ˢ ˄˫˧˫˸ˁ˨˜˘. ʍˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤˥ˢ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˦˥˨༤˫ː˘༤˘ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻ˋ ˨˦˘˨˜˘ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˘˧˥˅ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘ ˊ༤̀ ˦˧ˁˋˣ˘˨ˋ˙˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ ˦˧ˁ˄˫˧˫˸ˁ˨˜˘, ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ɴ. ʓ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ˻ˢ ˅ ˧ˁˢ˜ˁ˲ ˦˧˥ˋ˜˪ˁ «Global Lexicostatistical Database». ʐˣ˘ ˄˻༤˘ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˻ ˊ˧˫ˆ ˨ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥ˢ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥ˢ ˜˥ˣ˨˥ˣˁˣ˪ˣ˻˲ 2 ˜༤ˁ˨˨˥˅ ˨ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣˋˣ˘ˋˢ ˦ˋ˧ˋ˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˥˵ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˪ˋ˨˪ˁ . ʇ˥ˢ˦˼˿˪ˋ˧ˣˁ̀ ˦˧˥ˆ˧ˁˢˢˁ ˦˧˥˅˥ˊ˘༤ˁ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˊ˅ˁːˊ˻ — ˨ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˘ˋˢ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˥˄˹ˋˆ˥ ˘ ˄˥༤ˋˋ ˊ˧˥˄ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˣˁ˄˥˧ˁ ˜˥ˣ˨˥ˣˁˣ˪ˣ˻˲ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˥˅ (˜ˁːˊ˻˙ ˘˖ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˥˄˥˖ˣˁ˵ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˦˧˥˦˘˨ˣ˥˙ ˄˫˜˅˥˙ — ˊˁ༤ˋˋ ˪ˁ˜˥ˋ ˥˄˥˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣ˥ ˦˧˘ ˫˦˧˥˹ˋˣˣ˥˙ ˖ˁ˦˘˨˘ ˽˪˘ˢ˥ˣ˥˅, ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘ˢ˥˙ ˅ ˜˅ˁˊ˧ˁ˪ˣ˻˲ ˨˜˥˄˜ˁ˲). ɳ ˥˄˥˘˲ ˨༤˫˵ˁ̀˲ ˥˄ˣˁ˧˫ːˋˣ˻ ˥ˊˣ˘ ˘ ˪ˋ ːˋ 6 ˨˥˅˦ˁˊˋˣ˘˙: (1) ˋˣ. *q՝ժ- [KK] = ˄˫˧. *qaq- [KK] ‘dry’; (2) ˋˣ. *si෨- [SH], ˄˫˧. *ೞi [SH] ‘to eat’; (3) ˋˣ. *=o [HH], ˄˫˧. *=u- [HH] ‘to give’; (4) ˋˣ. *xe෨y [KH], ˄˫˧. *=s=նa[KH] ‘to kill’; (5) ˋˣ. *Ըiժ [HK], ˄˫˧. *ek [HK] ‘name’; (6) ˋˣ. *Ըu, *Ըa [HH], ˄˫˧. *i- [HH] ‘that’. ʑˋ˧ˋ˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˥˵ˣ˻˙ ˪ˋ˨˪ ˦˥˜ˁ˖ˁ༤, ˵˪˥ ˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥˨˪˼ ˦˥༤˫˵˘˪˼ ˢ˘ˣ˘ˢ˫ˢ 6 ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘˙ ˨˥˨˪ˁ˅༤̀ˋ˪ 0.048 ˘ 0.013 ˅ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˥˪ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˥ˆ˥ ˣˁ˄˥˧ˁ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˥˅. ʨ˪˘ ˅ˋ༤˘˵˘ˣ˻ ˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ ˖ˣˁ˵˘ˢ˻ ˦˧˘ ˦˥˧˥ˆˋ 0.05. ʕˁ˜˘ˢ ˥˄˧ˁ˖˥ˢ, ˱˥ˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˋ ˨˲˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˦˧ˁˋˣ˘˨ˋ˙˨˜˘ˢ ˘ ˦˧ˁ˄˫˧˫˸ˁ˨˜˘ 110-˨༤˥˅ˣ˘˜ˁˢ˘ ˣˋ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˙ˣ˻, ˘ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁ˪˼ ˜ˁ˜ ˨˘ˆˣˁ༤ ˊˁ༤˼ˣˋˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˊ˅˫ˢ̀ ˨ˋˢ˼̀ˢ˘. ʃˣ˪ˋ˧ˋ˨ˣˁ̀ ˥˨˥˄ˋˣˣ˥˨˪˼ ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˥˅ˁˣˣ˥ˆ˥ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁ ˨˥˨˪˥˘˪ ˅ ˪˥ˢ, ˵˪˥ ˘˖ 6 ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻˲ ˨ ˋˆ˥ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˼˿ ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘˙ 4 ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁ˿˪˨̀ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥-˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ˢ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥ˢ, ˁ 2 — ̀˅ˣ˥ ˥˸˘˄˥˵ˣ˻: ‘to kill’ ˘ ‘that’. ʑ˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ 5 ˽˪˘ˢ˥༤˥ˆ˘˙, ˦˧ˋˊ༤˥ːˋˣˣ˻˲ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ˻ˢ ˨ ˥˦˥˧˥˙ ˣˁ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥-˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˙ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ, ˦˧˥˦˫˹ˋˣ˻ ˁ༤ˆ˥˧˘˪ˢ˥ˢ, ˦˥˨˜˥༤˼˜˫ ˱˥ˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˨˲˥ˊ˨˪˅˥ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˨˥˥˪˅ˋ˪˨˪˅˫˿˹˘ˢ˘ ˜˥˧ˣ̀ˢ˘ ˨༤˘˸˜˥ˢ ˖ˁ˪ˋˢˣˋˣ˥: (1) ˋˣ. *de-s ‘eye’, ˄˫˧. *=l-ఁi ‘eye’; (2) ˋˣ. *ԸaƔ ‘I’, ˄˫˧. *ภa ‘I’; (3) ˋˣ. *yƕ෨pe ‘leaf’, ˄˫˧. *՛ap ‘leaf’; (4) ˋˣ. *ci෨़ ‘root’, ˄˫˧. *cվereೞ ‘root’; (5) ˋˣ. *Ըaw ‘thou’, ˄˫˧. *un ‘thou’. ɳ ˖ˁ˜༤˿˵ˋˣ˘ˋ ɴ. ʓ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ ˥˄˧ˁ2 ʐ˄ ˽˪˥ˢ ˨˦˥˨˥˄ˋ ˨˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˢ˥ːˣ˥ ˦˧˥˵˘˪ˁ˪˼ ˅ ˦˫˄༤˘˜ˁ˴˘˘ Kassian et al. 2015.

144

˪˘༤ ˅ˣ˘ˢˁˣ˘ˋ ˣˁ ˪˥, ˵˪˥ ˅˻˅˥ˊ ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˋ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˋˣ˘˨ˋ˙˨˜˘ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜ˁˢ˘ ˘ ˄˫˧˫˸ˁ˨˜˘ ˨˥˲˧ˁˣ̀ˋ˪ ˨˘༤˫ ˣˋ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥ ˥˪ ˪˥ˆ˥, ˦˧˘ˣ˘ˢˁˋ˪˨̀ ༤˘ ˦˧˘ ˽˪˥ˢ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖ˁ ˥ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˨˘ˣ˥-˜ˁ˅˜ˁ˖˨˜˥˙ ˢˁ˜˧˥˨ˋˢ˼˘, ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ː˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˥˄˺ˋˊ˘ˣ̀˿˹ˋ˙, ˜˧˥ˢˋ ˣˁ˖˅ˁˣˣ˻˲, ˋ˹ˋ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˥ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻˲ ˨ˋˢˋ˙. ɳ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ ʄ˥˲ˁˣˣˁ-ʍˁ˪˪˘˨ˁ ʌ˘˨˪ˁ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ʍˁ˜˨ˁ ʑ༤ˁˣ˜ˁ, ʄˋˣˁ) «ʓˋ˪ˋ˅˥˙ ˦˥ˊ˲˥ˊ ˜ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖˫ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˜˘˪ˁ˙˨˜˘˲ ˧˘˱ˢ» ˄˻༤ ˦˥˜ˁ˖ˁˣ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣˋˣ˘̀ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥˅, ˘˨˦˥༤˼˖˫ˋˢ˻˲ ˦˧˘ ˘˖˫˵ˋˣ˘˘ ˨˥˴˘ˁ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˨ˋ˪ˋ˙, ˅ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˘ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˜˘˪ˁ˙˨˜˥˙ ˱˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘. ʑ˧˥˅ˋˊˋˣˣ˻˙ ˁ˅˪˥˧˥ˢ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ ˆ˧ˁ˱ˁ, ˅ˋ˧˸˘ˣˁˢ˘ ˜˥˪˥˧˥ˆ˥ ̀˅༤̀˿˪˨̀ ˘ˋ˧˥ˆ༤˘˱˻ «ʇˣ˘ˆ˘ ˦ˋ˨ˋˣ» («ʣ˘˴˖˘ˣ»), ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˁˋ˪ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˫ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ ˥ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˅ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˜˘˪ˁ˙˨˜˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜ˋ ˜˥ˊ˻ -r, ˦˥˖ˊˣˋˋ ˨༤˘˅˸ˋ˙˨̀ ˨ ˜˥ˊ˥˙ -n. ʐ˄ ˽˪˥ˢ ˨˅˘ˊˋ˪ˋ༤˼˨˪˅˫ˋ˪ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˆ˧ˁ˱ˁ ˣˁ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻ ˧˘˱ˢ˫˿˹˘˲˨̀ ˘ˋ˧˥ˆ༤˘˱˥˅, ˁˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˥ˋ ˅˻̀˅༤ˋˣ˘˿ ˨ˋ˪ˋ˅˻˲ ˨˥˥˄˹ˋ˨˪˅. ɯˣˁ˨˪ˁ˨˘̀ ʇ˧˻༤˥˅ˁ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ) ˅ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ «ʫ˖˻˜˘ ˢ˫ˣˊˁ: ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˜ˁ ˦˥ ˣ˥˅˻ˢ ˊˁˣˣ˻ˢ» ˧ˁ˨˨˜ˁ˖ˁ༤ˁ ˥ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪ˁ˲ ˽˜˨˦ˋˊ˘˴˘˘ ˅ ˘ˣˊ˘˙˨˜˘˙ ˸˪ˁ˪ ʐ˧˘˨˨ˁ, ˅ ˲˥ˊˋ ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ˄˻༤˘ ˨˥˄˧ˁˣ˻ 100-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻ˋ ˨˦˘˨˜˘ ˊ༤̀ ˵ˋ˪˻˧ˋ˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˢ˫ˣˊˁ: ˨˥˧ˁ, ˲˥, ˄˥ˣˊˁ ˘ ˢ˫ˣˊˁ˧˘. ʑ˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˻ˋ ˨˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘༤˘ ˫˪˥˵ˣ˘˪˼ ˆˋˣˋˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˫˿ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˿ ˽˪˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˢˋ˪˥ˊˁˢ˘ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˜˘. ɳ ˴ˋ༤˥ˢ ˦˥༤˫˵˘༤ˁ ˦˥ˊ˪˅ˋ˧ːˊˋˣ˘ˋ ˪˥˵˜ˁ ˖˧ˋˣ˘̀ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁ˪ˋ༤̀ ˁ˅˨˪˧˥ˁ˖˘ˁ˪˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ʃ༤˼˘ ʑˋ˙˧˥˨ˁ, ˲˥˪̀ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ˘, ˨˥˄˧ˁˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˽˜˨˦ˋˊ˘˴˘ˋ˙, ˘ 100-˨༤˥˅ˣ˘˜ˁˢ˘, ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˅ ˋˆ˥ ˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁ˲, ˋ˨˪˼ ˧ˁ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘̀ (˅ ˨༤˫˵ˁˋ ˄˥ˣˊˁ ˅ˋ˨˼ˢˁ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅ˋˣˣ˻ˋ). ʑ˧˥˅ˋˊˋˣˣˁ̀ ˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁ ˦˥˜ˁ˖˻˅ˁˋ˪, ˵˪˥ ˧ˁ˨˦ˁˊ ˦˧˥˪˥ˢ˫ˣˊˁ ˣˁ ˨ˋ˅ˋ˧ˣ˫˿ ˘ ˿ːˣ˫˿ ˆ˧˫˦˦˻ ˊˁ˪˘˧˫ˋ˪˨̀ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˦˥༤˥˅˘ˣ˥˙ II ˪˻˨̀˵ˋ༤ˋ˪˘̀ ˊ˥ ˣˁ˸ˋ˙ ˽˧˻, ˅˨˜˥˧ˋ ˦˥˨༤ˋ ˽˪˥ˆ˥ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤˘༤˘˨˼ ˄˥ˣˊˁ ˘ ˨˥˧ˁ (˿ːˣˁ̀ ˆ˧˫˦˦ˁ), ˁ ˅ ˨ˋ˧ˋˊ˘ˣˋ I ˪˻˨̀˵ˋ༤ˋ˪˘̀ ˣˁ˸ˋ˙ ˽˧˻ — ˢ˫ˣˊˁ˧˘ ˘ ˲˥ (˨ˋ˅ˋ˧ˣˁ̀ ˆ˧˫˦˦ˁ). ɹ˅ˆˋˣ˘̀ ʇ˥˧˥˅˘ˣˁ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ; ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ) ˅˻˨˪˫˦˘༤ˁ ˨ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˥ˢ «ʇ༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˢˁ˙̀: ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˻ ˘ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻». ɳ ˦ˋ˧˅˥˙ ˋˆ˥ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˥ˣˁ ˦˥˜ˁ˖ˁ༤ˁ, ˜ˁ˜ ˨༤˥ː˘༤˘˨˼ ˨˫˹ˋ˨˪˅˫˿˹˘ˋ ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˥ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˢˁ˙̀. ɳ˥ ˅˪˥˧˥˙ — ˦˧˥ˊˋˢ˥ˣ˨˪˧˘˧˥˅ˁ༤ˁ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˦˥˨˪˧˥ˋˣ˘̀ ˆˋˣˋˁ༤˥ˆ˘˘ ˢˁ˙̀ ˦˥ 100- ˘ 200-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻ˢ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁˢ ʓ˅˥ˊˋ˸ˁ ˦˧˘ ˦˥ˢ˥˹˘ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻˲ ˘ˋ˧ˁ˧˲˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˱˘༤˥ˆˋˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˢˋ˪˥ˊ˥˅, ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘˿, ˦˥༤˫˵ˋˣˣ˫˿ ˨˧ˋˊ˨˪˅ˁˢ˘ ˽˪˘ˢ˥˨˪ˁ˪˘˨˪˘˜˘. ʇ˧˥ˢˋ ˪˥ˆ˥, ˄˻༤˘ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣ˻ ˦˧˘˵˘ˣ˻ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˧ˁ˨˲˥ːˊˋˣ˘˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˅ˁ˧˘ˁˣ˪ˁˢ˘ ˆˋˣˋˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˊˋ˧ˋ˅ˁ ˽˪˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅.

XII ˪˧ˁˊ˘˴˘˥ˣˣ˻ˋ ˵˪ˋˣ˘̀ ˦ˁˢ̀˪˘ ʓ. ɯ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ

ɳ˘˜˪˥˧ ʑ˥˧˲˥ˢ˥˅˨˜˘˙ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) ˅ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ «ɸ˘ˁ˲˧˥ˣ˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˪˘˦˥༤˥ˆ˘̀ ˅ ˨ˋˢ˘˪˨˜˥ˢ ˘˨˪˥˧˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘˘» ˘˖༤˥ː˘༤ ˘ˊˋ˘, ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ༤ˋˆ༤˘ ˅ ˥˨ˣ˥˅˫ ˧ˁ˖˧ˁ˄˥˪ˁˣˣ˥˙ ˘ˢ ˵ˋ˪˻˧ˋ˲˨˪˫˦ˋˣ˵ˁ˪˥˙ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˘, ˥˦˘˨˻˅ˁ˿˹ˋ˙ ˽˅˥༤˿˴˘˿ ˅˘ˊ˥-˅˧ˋˢˋˣˣ˥˙ ˨˘˨˪ˋˢ˻ ˨ˋˢ˘˪˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅. ʨ˪ˁ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼ ˦˧˥˪˘˅˥˦˥˨˪ˁ˅༤ˋˣˁ ˜˥ˣ˴ˋ˦˴˘˘ ʃ. ʍ. ɸ˼̀˜˥ˣ˥˅ˁ, ˨˥ˆ༤ˁ˨ˣ˥ ˜˥˪˥˧˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˘˪˥-˲ˁˢ˘˪˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘ ˊˋ༤̀˪˨̀ ˣˁ ̀˖˻˜˘ ˊ˧ˋ˅ˣˋ˙, ˨˧ˋˊˣˋ˙ ˘ ˣ˥˅˥˙ ˨˪˫˦ˋˣ˘. ʓ˪ˁˊ˘ˁ༤˼ˣ˥-˪˘˦˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜ˁ̀ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘̀ ̀˖˻˜ˁ ˅ ˴ˋ༤˥ˢ, ˦˥ ˢˣˋˣ˘˿ ˁ˅˪˥˧ˁ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˁ, ˖ˁ˪˧˫ˊˣˋˣˁ ˪ˋˢ, ˵˪˥ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˣ˻ˋ ˫˧˥˅ˣ˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˥˙ ˨˘˨˪ˋˢ˻ ˽˅˥༤˿˴˘˥ˣ˘˧˫˿˪ ˣˋ˧ˁ˅ˣ˥ˢˋ˧ˣ˥ — ˣˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˨˧ˋˊ˘ ˨ˋˢ˘˪˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˋ˨˪˼ ˪ˁ˜˘ˋ, ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˋ ˁ˧˲ˁ˘˵ˣ˻ ˨ ˪˥˵˜˘ ˖˧ˋˣ˘̀ ˱˥ˣ˥༤˥ˆ˘˘, ˣ˥ ˢ˥˧˱˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘ ˨˘༤˼ˣ˥ ˘˖ˢˋˣ˘༤˘˨˼ ˦˥ ˨˧ˁ˅ˣˋˣ˘˿ ˨ ˦˧ˁ˨ˋˢ˘˪˨˜˘ˢ ˨˥˨˪˥̀ˣ˘ˋˢ. ʍˋːˊ˫ ˪ˋˢ ˦˧˘ˢˋˣ˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ ˜ ˆ༤ˁˆ˥༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˨˘˨˪ˋˢˋ ˪ˁ˜˥ˋ ˧ˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˦˥ ˧ˁ˖ˣ˻ˢ ˽˪ˁ˦ˁˢ ˧ˁ˖˅˘˪˘̀, ˜ˁ˜ ˨˵˘˪ˁˋ˪ ɳ. ʫ. ʑ˥˧˲˥ˢ˥˅˨˜˘˙, ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥. ɳ˨ˋ ˨ˋˢ˘˪˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘ ˥ˣ ˥˪ˣ˥˨˘˪ ˜ ˜ˁ˜˥˙-ˣ˘˄˫ˊ˼ ˘˖ ˵ˋ˪˻˧ˋ˲ ˨˪˫˦ˋˣˋ˙, ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤ˁˆˁˋˢ˻˲ ˋˆ˥ ˢ˥ˊˋ༤˼˿, ˅ ˖ˁ˅˘˨˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˥˪ ˪˥ˆ˥, ˜ˁ˜ˁ̀ ˨˘˪˫ˁ˴˘̀ ˅ ˣ˘˲ ˨༤˥ː˘༤ˁ˨˼ ˅ ˧ˁˢ˜ˁ˲ ˁ˨˦ˋ˜˪ˣ˥˙ ˥˦˦˥˖˘˴˘˘ ˦ˋ˧˱ˋ˜˪˘˅ˁ ˘ ˘ˢ˦ˋ˧˱ˋ˜˪˘˅ˁ: ˣˁ ˜ˁːˊ˥ˢ ˽˪ˁ˦ˋ ˥ˊ˘ˣ ˘˖ ˵༤ˋˣ˥˅ ˥˦˦˥˖˘˴˘˘ «˨˘༤˼ˣ˻˙», ˁ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥˙ «˨༤ˁ˄˻˙» (˫˦˥˪˧ˋ˄༤̀ˋˢ˻˙ ˪ˁˢ, ˆˊˋ ˣˋ˪ ˣˋ˥˄˲˥ˊ˘ˢ˥˨˪˘ ˅ ˫˦˥˪˧ˋ˄༤ˋˣ˘˘ ˨˘༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥); ˽˪˥ ˦˧˘˅˥ˊ˘˪ ˜ ˦˥̀˅༤ˋˣ˘˿ ˣˁ˧̀ˊ˫ ˨˥ ˨༤ˁ˄˥˙ ˱˥˧ˢ˥˙ ˆ༤ˁˆ˥༤˼ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˅˘ˊˁ ˋˆ˥ ˨˘༤˼ˣ˥˙ ˱˥˧ˢ˻, ˨˥ ˅˧ˋˢˋˣˋˢ ˅˻˪ˋ˨ˣ̀˿˹ˋ˙ ˨༤ˁ˄˫˿; ˦˧˘˅ˁ˪˘˅ˣˁ̀ ˥˦˦˥˖˘˴˘̀ ˦˧ˋ˅˧ˁ˹ˁˋ˪˨̀ ˅ ˽˜˅˘˦˥༤ˋˣ˪ˣ˫˿; ˣˁ ˣ˥˅˥˙ ˨˪˫˦ˋˣ˘ ˦˥˧̀ˊ˥˜ ˘˖ˢˋˣˋˣ˘˙ ˦˥˅˪˥˧̀ˋ˪˨̀. ʐ༤˼ˆˁ ʑ˥˦˥˅ˁ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ̀˖˻˜˥˖ˣˁˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) ˦˥˨˅̀˪˘༤ˁ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ «ʐ˧˱˥ˆ˧ˁ˱˘̀ ˴ˁ˧˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˘ˢˋˣ˘ ɯ˧˪ˁ˜˨ˋ˧˜˨ ˅ ˣ˥˅˥˅ˁ˅˘༤˥ˣ˨˜˘˲ ˜༤˘ˣ˥˦˘˨ˣ˻˲ ˘˨˪˥˵ˣ˘˜ˁ˲ ˜ˁ˜ ˜˧˘˪ˋ˧˘˙ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜˘ ˪ˋ˜˨˪˥˅» ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢˋ ˧ˁ˖༤˘˵ˋˣ˘̀ ˘ˢˋˣ ˪˧ˋ˲ ˦˧ˁ˅˘˅˸˘˲ ˅ ɳˁ˅˘༤˥ˣ˘˘ ˁ˲ˋˢˋˣ˘ˊ˨˜˘˲ ˴ˁ˧ˋ˙: ɯ˧˪ˁ˜˨ˋ˧˜˨ˁ I (465–424 ˆˆ. ˊ˥ ˣ. ˽.), ɯ˧˪ˁ˜˨ˋ˧˜˨ˁ II (405–359 ˆˆ. ˊ˥ ˣ. ˽.) ˘ ɯ˧˪ˁ˜˨ˋ˧˜˨ˁ III (359–338 ˆˆ. ˊ˥ ˣ. ˽.). ʒˁ˨˨ˢˁ˪˧˘˅ˁ̀ ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣ˘ˋ ˅˪˥˧˥˙ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˘ˢˋˣ˘, ʐ. ɳ. ʑ˥˦˥˅ˁ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˘༤ˁ ˪˧˘ ˅ˁ˧˘ˁˣ˪ˁ ˦ˋ˧ˋˊˁ˵˘ ˊ˧.-˦ˋ˧˨. ç (˅ˋ˧˥̀˪ˣ˥, ˥˄˥˖ˣˁ˵ˁ˅˸ˋˆ˥ /ts/): šá-as-su; šá-su; šat-su. ʎˁ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˁˣ˘˘ ˜˥˧˦˫˨ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ˁ ˪ˋ˜˨˪˥˅, ˵˼̀ ˊˁ˪˘˧˥˅˜ˁ ˣˋ ˅˻˖˻˅ˁˋ˪ ˨˥ˢˣˋˣ˘̀, ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊ˵˘˴ˋ ˫ˊˁ༤˥˨˼ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˘˪˼, ˵˪˥ ˊ༤̀ ˖ˁ˦˘˨˘ ˘ˢˋˣ˘ ɯ˧˪ˁ˜˨ˋ˧˜˨ˁ III ˫˦˥˪˧ˋ˄༤̀༤˥˨˼ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˣˁ˦˘˨ˁˣ˘ˋ ˨˥ ˖ˣˁ˜˥ˢ šat. ʨ˪˥ ˨˅̀˖ˁˣ˥ ˨ ˥˄˹ˋ˙ ˪ˋˣˊˋˣ˴˘ˋ˙ ˧ˁ˨˦˧˥˨˪˧ˁˣˋˣ˘̀ ˖ˣˁ˜˥˅ ˨˪˧˫˜˪˫˧˻ CVC ˘ ˣˋ ˘ˢˋˋ˪ ˘ˊˋ˥༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˦˧˘˵˘ˣ. ʐ༤˼ˆˁ ʓ˪˥༤˄˥˅ˁ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʒɯʎ) ˅ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ «50-˨༤˥˅ˣ˻˙ ˨˦˘˨˥˜ ˄ˁ˖˥˅˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜˘

˵ˁˊ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˘ ˅ˣ˫˪˧ˋˣˣ̀̀ ˜༤ˁ˨˨˘˱˘˜ˁ˴˘̀ ˁ˱˧ˁ˖˘˙˨˜˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˼˘» ˦˧ˋˊ˨˪ˁ˅˘༤ˁ ˧ˋ˖˫༤˼˪ˁ˪˻ ˦˥˘˨˜ˁ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˘˖˥ˆ༤˥˨˨, ˅˻̀˅༤ˋˣ˘ˋ ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˢ˥ˆ༤˥ ˄˻ ˦˥ˢ˥˵˼ ˫˪˥˵ˣˋˣ˘˿ ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘̀ ˵ˁˊ˨˜˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˣˁ ˁ˱˧ˁ˖˘˙˨˜˥ˢ ˆˋˣˋˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˢ ˊˋ˧ˋ˅ˋ. ɳ ˊ˘˨˜˫˨˨˘˘ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˣˁ ˜ˁ˜˘ˋ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˦ˋ˧˅˥ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ ˧ˁ˖ˊˋ༤˘༤˨̀ ˦˧ˁˁ˱˧ˁ˖˘˙˨˜˘˙ ̀˖˻˜, ˵ˁˊ˨˜ˁ̀ ˅ˋ˪˅˼ ˖ˁˣ˘ˢˁˋ˪ ˴ˋˣ˪˧ˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˋ ˢˋ˨˪˥, ˦˥˨˜˥༤˼˜˫ ˋ˨˪˼ ˦˥ ˜˧ˁ˙ˣˋ˙ ˢˋ˧ˋ ˪˧˘ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖˻ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˨ ˜ˁ˜˥˙ ˊ˧˫ˆ˥˙ ˅ˋ˪˅˼˿ ˥ˣˁ ˨˅̀˖ˁˣˁ ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ˄༤˘˖˜˘ˢ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅˥ˢ: 1) ˨ ˄ˋ˧˄ˋ˧˨˜˥˙, 2) ˨ ˋˆ˘˦ˋ˪˨˜˥˙, 3) ˨ ˜˫˸˘˪˨˜˥˙ (˘༤˘, ˅˥˖ˢ˥ːˣ˥, ˜˫˸˘˪˨˜˥-˥ˢ˥˪˨˜˥˙). ɸ༤̀ ˦˧˥˅ˋ˧˜˘ ˽˪˘˲ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥༤˥ːˋˣ˘˙ ʐ. ɳ. ʓ˪˥༤˄˥˅ˁ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋ༤ˁ ˪ˋ ˨༤˫˵ˁ˘, ˜˥ˆˊˁ ˫ ˵ˁˊ˨˜˘˲ ˜˥˧ˣˋ˙ ˘˖ 50-˨༤˥˅ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˨˦˘˨˜ˁ ˣˋ˪ ˥˄˹ˋ˨ˋˢ˘˪˨˜˘˲ ˦ˁ˧ˁ༤༤ˋ༤ˋ˙. ʑ˧˥˅ˋˊˋˣˣ˻˙ ˁˣˁ༤˘˖ ˣˋ ˦˥˖˅˥༤˘༤ ˨ˊˋ༤ˁ˪˼ ˅˻˅˥ˊˁ ˥ ˦˧ˋˊ˦˥˵˪˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˜ˁ˜˥˙-༤˘˄˥ ˘˖ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˖, ˣ˥ ˨˦˥˨˥˄˨˪˅˥˅ˁ༤ ˦˥˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˜ˋ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˥˅ ˥ ˪˥ˢ, ˜ˁ˜˫˿ ˧˥༤˼ ˅ ˧ˋ˸ˋˣ˘˘ ˦˧˥˄༤ˋˢ˻ ˢ˥ˆ༤˘ ˄˻ ˨˻ˆ˧ˁ˪˼ ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˜˴˘˘ ˧ˁ˖ˣ˥ˆ˥ ˫˧˥˅ˣ̀ ˘ ˧ˁ˖ˣ˥˙ ˧ˋ˦˧ˋ˖ˋˣ˪ˁ˪˘˅ˣ˥˨˪˘ (ˣˁ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧, ˥˦˘˧ˁ˿˹˘ˋ˨̀ ˪˥༤˼˜˥ ˣˁ ˢˁ˪ˋ˧˘ˁ༤ ˥˪ˊˋ༤˼ˣ˻˲ ˥˪˅ˋ˪˅༤ˋˣ˘˙ ˅ˣ˫˪˧˘ ˵ˁˊ˨˜˥˙ ˨ˋˢ˼˘). ʑ˧˥˄༤ˋˢˁ ˥˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˨˪ˋ˦ˋˣ˘ ˄༤˘˖˥˨˪˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻˲ ˨ˋˢˋ˙ ɯ˱˧˘˜˘ ˄˻༤ˁ ˖ˁ˪˧˥ˣ˫˪ˁ ˘ ˅ ˖ˁ˜༤˿˵˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣ˥ˢ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˋ ˜˥ˣ˱ˋ˧ˋˣ˴˘˘, ˨ ˜˥˪˥˧˻ˢ ˅˻˨˪˫˦˘༤ ɴˋ˥˧ˆ˘˙ ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣ (ʃˣ˨˪˘˪˫˪ ˅˥˨˪˥˵ˣ˻˲ ˜˫༤˼˪˫˧ ˘ ˁˣ˪˘˵ˣ˥˨˪˘ ʒɴɴʘ; ʌˁ˄˥˧ˁ˪˥˧˘̀ ˅˥˨˪˥˜˥˅ˋˊˋˣ˘̀ ʣɯɴʃ ʒɯʎʝ˘ɴʓ), — «ʇ ˅˥˦˧˥˨˫ ˥˄ ˁ˧ˋˁ༤˼ˣ˥ˆˋˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ “˜༤˫˄˜ˁ˲” ˅ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˥˙ ༤ˋ˜˨˘˜ˋ ˣˁ ˦˧˘ˢˋ˧ˋ ˽˪˘ˢ˥ˣˁ ๑༤˫ˣˁ๏ ˅ ˢˁ˜˧˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˥ˢ ˧ˋˆ˘˥ˣˋ». ɸ˥˜༤ˁˊ˵˘˜ ˦˧˥ˁˣˁ༤˘˖˘˧˥˅ˁ༤ ˨˥˥˪ˣ˥˸ˋˣ˘̀ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˣˋ˨˜˥༤˼˜˘ˢ˘ ˽˪˘ˢ˥ˣˁˢ˘ ˨ ˥˄˹˘ˢ ˖ˣˁ˵ˋˣ˘ˋˢ ‘༤˫ˣˁ’, ˧ˋ˜˥ˣ˨˪˧˫˘˧˫ˋˢ˻ˢ˘ ˊ༤̀ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˆ˘˦˥˪ˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥˙ «ˣ˘༤˥-˨ˁ˲ˁ˧˨˜˥˙» ˢˁ˜˧˥˨ˋˢ˼˘ (ˣ˘༤˥˪˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˴ˋˣ˪˧ˁ༤˼ˣ˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˘˲), ˁ ˪ˁ˜ːˋ ˊ༤̀ ˣˋ˜˥˪˥˧˻˲ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ̀˖˻˜˥˅ ˪˥˙ ːˋ ˵ˁ˨˪˘ ˜˥ˣ˪˘ˣˋˣ˪ˁ, ˅ ˵ˁ˨˪ˣ˥˨˪˘ ˁ˱˧ˁ˖˘˙˨˜˘˲ (˜˫˸˘˪˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˥ˢ˥˪˨˜˘˲) ˘ ˣ˘ˆˋ˧-˜˥ˣˆ˥༤ˋ˖˨˜˘˲ (˫˄ˁˣˆ˘˙˨˜˘˲). ɲ˻༤˥ ˦˥˜ˁ˖ˁˣ˥, ˵˪˥, ˣˋ˨ˢ˥˪˧̀ ˣˁ ˥˵ˋ˅˘ˊˣ˥ˋ ˱˥ˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˥ˋ ˨˲˥ˊ˨˪˅˥ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˧ˁ˨˨ˢ˥˪˧ˋˣˣ˻ˢ˘ ˣ˘༤˥˪˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˘ ˴ˋˣ˪˧ˁ༤˼ˣ˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ˱˥˧ˢˁˢ˘, ˥ˣ˘ ˣˋ ˢ˥ˆ˫˪ ˨༤˫ː˘˪˼ ˊ˥˅˥ˊˁˢ˘ ˅ ˦˥༤˼˖˫ ˣ˘༤˥-˨ˁ˲ˁ˧˨˜˥ˆ˥ ˧˥ˊ˨˪˅ˁ. ʑ˥ ˢˣˋˣ˘˿ ɴ. ʓ. ʓ˪ˁ˧˥˨˪˘ˣˁ, ˣˁ˘˄˥༤ˋˋ ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˥ˋ ˘ ˽˜˥ˣ˥ˢˣ˥ˋ ˥˄˺̀˨ˣˋˣ˘ˋ ˘˲ ˧ˁ˨˦˧ˋˊˋ༤ˋˣ˘̀ ˦˥ ˪ˁ˜˨˥ˣˁˢ — ˁ˧ˋˁ༤˼ˣˁ̀ ˊ˘˱˱˫˖˘̀, ˖ˁ˪˧˥ˣ˫˅˸ˁ̀ «ˣ˘༤˥-˨ˁ˲ˁ˧˨˜˘ˋ» ˘ ˁ˱˧ˁ˖˘˙˨˜˘ˋ ̀˖˻˜˘ ˧ˋˆ˘˥ˣˁ. ʑˋ˧˅˥ˣˁ˵ˁ༤˼ˣ˻˙ ˋˋ ˘˨˪˥˵ˣ˘˜ ˫˨˪ˁˣ˥˅˘˪˼ ˪˧˫ˊˣ˥, ˣ˥ ˅˧̀ˊ ༤˘ ˽˪˥ ˦˧̀ˢ˥˙ ˦˧ˋˊ˥˜ ˜ˁ˜˥˙-༤˘˄˥ ˘˖ ˫˦˥ˢ̀ˣ˫˪˻˲ ˆ˧˫˦˦. ʑ˧˘˄༤˘˖˘˪ˋ༤˼ˣˁ̀ ˘˨˲˥ˊˣˁ̀ ˱˥˧ˢˁ ˢ˥ːˋ˪ ˄˻˪˼ ˅˥˨˨˪ˁˣ˥˅༤ˋˣˁ ˜ˁ˜ *ಙape ˘༤˘ *ಙapay. ʐˣˁ ˽˅˥༤˿˴˘˥ˣ˘˧˥˅ˁ༤ˁ ˊ˅˫ˢ̀ ˥˨ˣ˥˅ˣ˻ˢ˘ ˦˫˪̀ˢ˘: *ಙapay ਘ *ಙafay ਘ *ಙahay (˥˪˨˿ˊˁ ˦˧˥˘˖˥˸༤˥ ˄˥༤˼˸˘ˣ˨˪˅˥ ˜˫˸˘˪˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˿ːˣ˥ˣ˘༤˥˪˨˜˘˲ ˱˥˧ˢ) ˘ *ಙapay ਘ *apay 145

Reports / ʝ˧˥ˣ˘˜ˁ

ਘ *pay (˥˪˨˿ˊˁ — ˄˥༤˼˸ˁ̀ ˵ˁ˨˪˼ ˣ˘༤˥˪˨˜˘˲, ˴ˋˣ˪˧ˁ༤˼ˣ˥˨˫ˊˁˣ˨˜˘˲ ˘ ˫˄ˁˣˆ˘˙˨˜˘˲ ˱˥˧ˢ). ɯˣˁ༤˥ˆ˘˵ˣ˻ˋ ˨˴ˋˣˁ˧˘˘, ˜ˁ˜ ˨˵˘˪ˁˋ˪ ˁ˅˪˥˧ ˊ˥˜༤ˁˊˁ, ˣˋ ˘˨˜༤˿˵ˋˣ˻ ˘ ˊ༤̀ ˊ˧˫ˆ˘˲ ˄ˁ˖˘˨ˣ˻˲ ༤ˋ˜˨ˋˢ, ˵˪˥ ˅ˁːˣ˥ ˫˵˘˪˻˅ˁ˪˼ ˅ ˄˫ˊ˫˹˘˲ ˘˨˨༤ˋˊ˥˅ˁˣ˘̀˲ ˆˋˣˋ˪˘˵ˋ˨˜˘˲ ˨˅̀˖ˋ˙ ˢˋːˊ˫ ˁ˱˧˘˜ˁˣ˨˜˘ˢ˘ ̀˖˻˜˥˅˻ˢ˘ ˨ˋˢ˼̀ˢ˘.

146

ʇˌ˞ˀ˛ʸ˞˟˛ʸ Kassian, Alexei, Mikhail Zhivlov, George Starostin. 2015. Proto-Indo-European-Uralic Comparison from the Probabilistic Point of View. Journal of Indo-European Studies 43: 301–347. Vovin, Alexander. 2011. First and second person singular pronouns: a pillar or a pillory of the ‘Altaic’ hypothesis? Türk Dilleri AražtÄrmalarÄ 21(2): 251–278.