The presence of astronomical imagery in two consecutive epigrams on the theme of pursued hares in book 9 of the Anthologia Palatina (9.17 and 9.18) both strengthens their ascription to Germanicus Caesar and suggests that his astronomical and literary interests extended beyond the youthful production of a Latin translation of Aratus’ Phaenomena. The meaning of these two epigrams can only be understood fully by paying attention to the interplay of astronomical imagery between them and by considering Germanicus’ innovative account of two constellations in his Aratea: the Dog and the Hare.
This article makes the following case: according to Artemidorus of Daldis’ Oneirocriticon one main task of the dream interpreter is to identify, through knowledge of the dreamer, which components of a dream are internal in order to assess—as far as possible—the external components of a dream. I argue that very similar hermeneutic issues were being extensively theorised in Artemidorus’ period by Jewish and Christian writers who were concerned with the problem of prophetic interpolation: in particular, cases in the Bible in which prophecies do not come true. In making this comparison, I hope to clarify a number of features of Artemidorus’ hermeneutic, including the relationship between the origin and structure of dreams and the exegetical practice of the dream-interpreter.
Recent commentators of Aristophanes’ Frogs have argued that there is a deliberate indeterminacy in his text when he wrote ΔΙΑΓΟΡΑΣ at line 320. It has been argued that the two readings of these letters in antiquity—δι’ ἀγορᾶς (‘through the Agora’) and Διαγόρας (the Melian poet)—were both intended by Aristophanes as a purposeful textual ambiguity for the actor to freely choose between in performance. But this article will argue that this agnosticism is ultimately misguided, and only the ‘Diagoras’ reading is viable in terms of syntax and historical context.
An overlooked fragmentary Latin text preserved in the Corpus of Roman Land Surveyors proves to be a translation of a lost branch of the Aratean commentary tradition. Stripped of the classicizing veneer mistakenly applied by earlier editors, the fragment can be recognized as the work of an unknown and inept late-antique Translator, perhaps working within a generation of the fragment’s earliest manuscript witness, the Codex Arcerianus. The branch of the commentary tradition used by this Translator made use of Euclid ‘the Sicilian’, an authority now absent from the surviving tradition: if this Euclid is identical with the famous geometer, as argued here, we may have radical new evidence for his homeland, hitherto unknown. The Aratean manuscript used by the Translator was equipped with interlinear Latin glosses and with illustrations of a type otherwise unattested in the surviving Aratean tradition.
The Catalogus geometrarum from the Corpus Agrimensorum, an early witness to the Aratean commentary tradition, names an author with mathematical interests as Euclid the Sicilian. If this individual is identical with Euclid the geometer, then we are able to move beyond the traditional biographies of Euclid, which rest on the problematic evidence of Proclus and Pappus, and consider an ancient case of mistaken identity which suggests that Euclid may even have been a Geloian by birth. This new identification raises questions about the status of Doric as a scientific language, and Alexandria’s role as a haven for those dislocated by war or civil strife, not merely as a magnet for scientific talent.
Although Pindar’s craft imagery has long been appreciated, scholars have paid relatively little attention to technê in particular, focusing instead on the apparently more elevated, and more Pindaric, sophia. Concentrating on the odes that narrate the origins of specific technai (Pythian 12, Olympian 7, Olympian 13), this paper questions the dichotomy between technical and ethical knowledge in Pindar. Far from dismissing technê as mere banausic craft, as his critics often do, Pindar consistently presents it as a means of promoting civic and even cosmic order. I conclude with a discussion of Pythian 3, where Pindar makes explicit the metapoetics implicit in the previous poems and figures his own activity as a sort of technê. In this light, Pindaric sophia, as the practice of technê within ethical limits, emerges as a relationship of the individual to the cosmos.