Arbitri Nugae: Petronius’ Short Poems in the "Satyrica" (Studien zur klassischen Philologie) [New ed.] 9783631605837, 9783653007084, 3631605838

This book aims to provide a comprehensive inquiry into the short metrical intermezzos inserted in the prose narrative of

106 82 3MB

English Pages 433 [448] Year 2011

Report DMCA / Copyright

DOWNLOAD FILE

Polecaj historie

Arbitri Nugae: Petronius’ Short Poems in the "Satyrica" (Studien zur klassischen Philologie) [New ed.]
 9783631605837, 9783653007084, 3631605838

Table of contents :
Table of Contents
Introduction - Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica 1
Chapter I - The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) 15
Chapter II - Justice for Sale (Petr. 14.2) 51
Chapter III - Two Views of Success (Petr. 15.9; 18.6) 61
Chapter IV - Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) 73
Chapter V - Trimalchio’s ‘Epigrams’ (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) 91
Chapter VI - Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) 113
Chapter VII - A Night of Love (Petr. 79.8) 133
Chapter VIII - Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) 141
Chapter IX - Tantalus and the Miser (Petr. 82.5) 157
Chapter X - Life Choices (Petr. 83.10) 163
Chapter XI - Appeal to Peace (Petr. 108.14) 169
Chapter XII - A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) 177
Chapter XIII - Amorous Blasphemy (Petr. 126.18) 193
Chapter XIV - Homeric Love (Petr. 127.9) 199
Chapter XV - A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6) 211
Chapter XVI - Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) 225
Chapter XVII - A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) 243
Chapter XVIII - Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) 265
Chapter XIX - The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) 285
Chapter XX - Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8) 303
Chapter XXI - Mythological Monsters (Petr. 136.6) 317
Chapter XXII - The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) 329
Appendix I - Vegetables and Bald Heads (Petr. 109.10.3-4) 345
Appendix II - Magic at Petr. 131.4-6 357
Appendix III - Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius 369
Works Quoted 391

Citation preview

165 This book aims to provide a comprehensive inquiry into the short metrical intermezzos inserted in the prose narrative of Petronius’ Satyrica. The text of each poem has been thoroughly investigated; in addition, special attention has been devoted to their function in the context and to the aspects connecting Petronius with the literature and culture of his time. Numerous contacts with other ancient authors have been pointed out to illustrate Petronius’ attitude to the cultural and literary heritage on the one hand, and the character of his own work on the other.

www.peterlang.de

SKP 165-Setaioli-260583HCA5-AK.indd 1

Aldo Setaioli · Arbitri Nugae — Petronius’ Short Poems in the Satyrica

Herausgegeben von Michael von Albrecht

LANG

Aldo Setaioli is professor emeritus of Latin Language and Literature at the University of Perugia (Italy). He has published widely in the area of Latin literature, never losing sight of Greek antecedents and devoting special attention to such authors as Seneca, Virgil and his commentators, Horace, Petronius, and several others, as well as to afterlife beliefs in the Greek and Roman world down to late antiquity.

Studien zur klassischen Philologie

Aldo Setaioli

Arbitri Nugae Petronius’ Short Poems in the Satyrica

Peter Lang

165

ISBN 978-3-631-60583-7

12.11.10 11:13:21 Uhr

165 This book aims to provide a comprehensive inquiry into the short metrical intermezzos inserted in the prose narrative of Petronius’ Satyrica. The text of each poem has been thoroughly investigated; in addition, special attention has been devoted to their function in the context and to the aspects connecting Petronius with the literature and culture of his time. Numerous contacts with other ancient authors have been pointed out to illustrate Petronius’ attitude to the cultural and literary heritage on the one hand, and the character of his own work on the other.

Aldo Setaioli · Arbitri Nugae — Petronius’ Short Poems in the Satyrica

Herausgegeben von Michael von Albrecht

LANG

Aldo Setaioli is professor emeritus of Latin Language and Literature at the University of Perugia (Italy). He has published widely in the area of Latin literature, never losing sight of Greek antecedents and devoting special attention to such authors as Seneca, Virgil and his commentators, Horace, Petronius, and several others, as well as to afterlife beliefs in the Greek and Roman world down to late antiquity.

Studien zur klassischen Philologie

Aldo Setaioli

Arbitri Nugae Petronius’ Short Poems in the Satyrica

Peter Lang

165

www.peterlang.de

SKP 165-Setaioli-260583HCA5-AK.indd 1

12.11.10 11:13:21 Uhr

Arbitri Nugae

Studien zur klassischen Philologie Herausgegeben von Prof. Dr. Michael von Albrecht

Band 165

Peter Lang

Frankfurt am Main · Berlin · Bern · Bruxelles · New York · Oxford · Wien

Aldo Setaioli

Arbitri Nugae Petronius’ Short Poems in the Satyrica

Peter Lang

Internationaler Verlag der Wissenschaften

Bibliographic Information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data is available in the internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de.

ISBN 978-3-653-00708-4 (eBook) ISSN 0172-1798 ISBN 978-3-631-60583-7 © Peter Lang GmbH Internationaler Verlag der Wissenschaften Frankfurt am Main 2011 All rights reserved. All parts of this publication are protected by copyright. Any utilisation outside the strict limits of the copyright law, without the permission of the publisher, is forbidden and liable to prosecution. This applies in particular to reproductions, translations, microfilming, and storage and processing in electronic retrieval systems. www.peterlang.de

Table of Contents

Introduction Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Chapter XXI Chapter XXII Appendix I Appendix II Appendix III Works Quoted

Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) Justice for Sale (Petr. 14.2) Two Views of Success (Petr. 15.9; 18.6) Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) Trimalchio’s ‘Epigrams’ (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) A Night of Love (Petr. 79.8) Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) Tantalus and the Miser (Petr. 82.5) Life Choices (Petr. 83.10) Appeal to Peace (Petr. 108.14) A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) Amorous Blasphemy (Petr. 126.18) Homeric Love (Petr. 127.9) A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6) Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8) Mythological Monsters (Petr. 136.6) The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) Vegetables and Bald Heads (Petr. 109.10.3-4) Magic at Petr. 131.4-6 Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius

1 15 51 61 73 91 113 133 141 157 163 169 177 193 199 211 225 243 265 285 303 317 329 345 357 369 391

V

This book collects and updates essays on the short poems in the Satyrica which were written (for the most part in languages other than English) over a period of several years but were conceived from the beginning as an organic whole. It aims to provide a comprehensive inquiry into the metrical sections inserted in the prose of Petronius’ novel, with the exception of the two most extensive pieces (the Troiae halosis and the Bellum civile), both of which would require a monograph in its own right. All the problems posed by these sections have been addressed, although questions of metrics have been treated only insofar as they are connected with the general interpretation of each poem, in view of the detailed study recently devoted to this aspect by W.-J. Yeh. Special attention has been devoted to the function of the poems in relation to the work as a whole (at least to what we can still read) as well as to aspects connecting Petronius with the literature and culture of his time. Many such connections have been pointed out for the first time and are meant to shed new light not merely on single passages but also on extended portions of Petronius’ work, as well as on his general attitude to the cultural and literary heritage on the one hand, and on the character and aims of his own work on the other. Literary models (or anti-models) belonging to the serious literature of the past can thus be recognized, often functioning as the butt of Petronius’ parody and desecration, whereas contacts with contemporary or later authors and writings, often of a less elevated level, help to see his work in a historical and cultural perspective. The chapters treating the several metrical sections generally follow the sequence in which the latter appear in the text. In some cases two different pieces have been treated in the same chapter, when they are linked by conspicuous likenesses or resemblances. VI

Introduction Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica* Though occasionally verse may be found in other ancient novels (e.g. Apul. met. 4.33 and 9.8) and quotations from Homer, linguistically integrated in the text, often appear in Chariton, the Satyrica is unique in ancient fiction in that no less than 30 poems (including the Virgilian cento at 132.11) appear in the preserved parts alone. There are then at least as many poems that have been transmitted as fragments under the name of Petronius, mainly in the Anthologia Latina. Though these are anything but devoid of interest and have been rightly revalued1 after a long neglect largely due to mistrust in their Petronian authenticity, we may confidently assume that the lack of a context makes their full appreciation impossible. The poems transmittetd together with the prose by Petronius’ direct tradition are in fact an integral part of the novel2 and acquire full meaning and import only in relation to the prose frame in which they appear. On the one hand literary nods and allusions often interpenetrate both the poems and the surrounding prose; and on the other, as we shall see, several of the poems that can be attributed to Encolpius define and demarcate a level distinct from that of the prose narrative, but inseparable from it, in that verse and prose alternate in expressing the moods of the character, as he goes through his multifarious adventures, or of the narrator, as he reports and recalls his past vicissitudes later in time.3 There are, besides, some poems which are even syntactically connected with the prose context. One is the poem recited by Tryphaena at 108.14,4 which contains a ver* 1 2 3

4

A version of this Introduction will appear with the title Poems in Petronius’ Satyrica in the Wiley-Blackwell Companion to the Ancient Novel. E.g. by Courtney 1991 and Sommariva 2004. This has been recognized by most scholars; cf., for example, Barnes 1971, 6-7; Connors 1998, 1; 4; Yeh 2007, 57. It can be added that the verse pieces tend to pour into the recognized molds of literary convention the often incongruous situations described in the prose and to extract their universal implications. Cf. Connors 1998, 2, 9, 50. It may be said that they have an “organizing” function (Yeh 2007, 57). Cf. ch. XI, with the literature quoted and discussed. For reasons of space, detailed mention of the relevant bibliography is avoided here. References will be made to the follow-

Introduction bum dicendi in the first line, functioning as the main clause of a sentence begun in the preceding prose narrative (‘quis furor’ exclamat ‘pacem convertit in arma?’, significantly quoted by Isidore of Seville, orig. 2.21.19 in this form: quis furor, o cives, pacem convertit in arma?; cf. Lucan. 1.8). Two others, 128.65 and 136.6,6 are often regarded as incomplete, but in reality both are the parabole of similes whose antapodosis rounding off the sentence is contained in the prose. Not unlike Isidore with the poem at 108.14, the excerptor of the Florilegia tradition ( ) has changed the first line of 128.6, which he reports without the prose context, to make the poem syntactically self-standing (veluti cum has been changed to si quando). Even the cento at 132.11 functions as the main clause of a sentence begun in the prose. So, as far as we can see, all the poems in the Satyrica are complete, with the single exception of the two lines at 15.9. Ernout, at the end of his edition, gives a list of nine different meters employed in the poems, including the fragments.7 Hexameters and elegiac couplets are by far the most common, but hendecasyllables are also well represented and two more types are remarkable: the Sotadeans8 used by a cinaedus in a solo performance at 23.3 and again by Encolpius at 132.8, and also the peculiar arrangement of two hexameters and one pentameter employed by Trimalchio in his epigram at 34.10 and then attempted again (unsuccessfully, as it seems) at 55.3. Petronius’ poems have been especially investigated by Heinz Stubbe,9 E.J. Barnes,10 Edward Courtney,11 Catherine Connors,12 and, lately, by Wei-Jong Yeh,13 in a bulky book which addresses especially the problem of the Satyrica’s prosimetric mixture and – exhaustively – Petronius’ metrical technique. Con-

5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

2

ing chapters, in which it is systematically surveyed. I further refer to the bibliography on Petronius’ poems quoted and discussed by Yeh 2007, and, for recent scholarship on Petronius in general, to Vannini 2007. Cf. also Habermehl 2006, for the parts covered by his commentary. Cf. ch. XV, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. ch. XXI, with the literature quoted and discussed. Barnes 1971, 317 rightly remarks that “the variety of metres lends corresponding variety in the types of literary caricature and amusement available to the author”. For the two poems in Sotadeans cf. ch. IV, with the literature quoted and discussed. Stubbe 1933, who, though covering all the poems, deals mostly with the Troiae halosis and the Bellum civile. Barnes 1971. Courtney 1991. Connors 1998. Yeh 2007. Yeh’s conclusions, though ostensibly based on a thorough analysis of metrical technique, often appear to be far-fetched and hardly convincing. For example, he dates the Satyrica under the reign of Domitian. However, his work is invaluable as far as metrical questions are concerned and has made further investigation in this area all but superfluous. Among the numerous papers concerned with Petronius’ poems mention may be made of Beck 1973 and Sommariva 1996.

Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica cerning the former problem, we should at least call attention to the fact that the recent publication of papyri containing scraps of ancient fiction with verse inserted in the prose has cast some doubt on the former classification of the Satyrica as a Menippean satire, a literary genre in which both verse and prose are employed.14 One of these fragments, the so-called Iolaus (POxy 3010), appears to contain a lewd narrative, quite different from the Greek novels of idealized love that have come down to us, and it also features a speech in Sotadeans uttered by a gallus, i.e. a character not too different from Petronius’ cinaedus reciting Sotadeans at 23.3. Another narrative fragment containing verse inserted in the prose has since been published (the so-called Tinouphis), and this too seems to differ from the Greek novels previously known. Though both these papyri go back to a time later than Petronius, it is then not impossible that a type of satiric narrative featuring roguish characters and employing both verse and prose preexisted the Satyrica; but our evidence is too meager to admit of any unqualified statement about the generic affiliation of Petronius’ novel. Surely there is a connection between the verse and the literary affinities displayed – and almost flaunted – in every page of the Satyrica, almost invariably in the form of parody and desecration. This is true for all the poetic forms appearing in the novel, but it is particularly evident in the use of Sotadeans. Each of the two poems is a specimen of the two types of poetry attested for Sotades of Maroneia: song performed by the cinaedi and obscene parody of epic. The Sotadeans at 23.3 are indeed recited by a cinaedus and those at 132.8 cast Encolpius and his treacherous mentula in the roles of Achilles and Agamemnon in Iliad 1: as in Homer, after a frustrated attempt to exact bloody vengeance, the indignant hero is content with hurling verbal abuse at the culprit. As often, the parodic mood overflows into the prose and reaches the climax with the cento (132.11) obscenely desecrating two of Virgil’s loftiest figures: Euryalus and Dido.15 Some of the Satyrica’s verse does in fact contain programmatic references to the author’s literary attitude. The scholars who see a hint at the novel’s closeness to the mime in the second part of the poem at 80.9 (v. 5 grex agit in scaena mimum)16 are probably right – with no need to split the eight lines of the poem in two parts of four lines each, since there are clear structural links uniting the two “quatrains”17 and the poem is unanimously given as a whole in the manu14 15

16 17

The connection of the Satyrica with Menippean satire was roundly denied by Astbury 1977. Recently it has been strongly upheld by Yeh 2007, 20, 37-40. These (132.8 and 132.11) are two of the very few poems that are functional to the narrative, carrying it forward, rather than pausing to reflect on the situation sketched in the prose. For example Connors 1998, 13-14. For 80.9 cf. ch. VIII, with the literature quoted and discussed. It should be emphasized that nomen amicitiae (v. 1) corresponds to nomen divitis (v. 6); vultum (v. 3) corresponds to facies (v. 8); and vultum servatis (v. 3) anticipates both the theatrical metaphor of 5-8 and the emphasis these final lines place on pretence and fictionality. In 3

Introduction script tradition.18 In view of this, assuming that the last four lines were added to those that precede by an excerptor who saw the closeness and similarity of two different poems19 is a clear case of begging the question. Several other programmatic references have been seen in other poems and passages (including such unlikely details as the pastry Priapus at 60.4, the pebble in fr. 40.8 M., and the parrot in fr. 45 M.),20 but, strangely enough, many scholars refuse to recognize them where, in my opinion, they are most evident. At 132.12 Encolpius feigns shame for having addressed his recalcitrant mentula, but immediately after (132.13-14) he adduces the examples of common people cursing their aching limbs (those who complain about their belly remind us of Trimalchio at 57.2) and of epic and tragic heroes addressing parts of their own body (Ulysses is explicitly mentioned, Sophocles’ Oedipus is clearly alluded to), and finally breaks into verse (132.15)21 to vindicate his novae sinceritatis opus and the smiling gratia candidly portraying matters of sex as opposed to the supercilious hypocrisy of his censors, who are also targeted in the prose sentence that follows the verse. The stage illusion is undoubtedly broken here. Encolpius is alone: he would not need to justify his outburst, since there has been no witness, and nobody is there to listen any way. But Encolpius – and Petronius behind him22 – is addressing his readers; the whole context (prose and verse) lucidly lays bare the main components of the work (opus; and cf. the genitive of quality, novae simplicitatis, comparable to 4.5 schedium Lucilianae humilitatis, where a literary composition is surely referred to): “realism”, literary parody,

18 19 20

21 22

4

modern terms, we can say that the “hypocrisy” of false friendship, which is the subject of the first part of the poem, is explained and revealed, as it were, through an etymological association ( is the Greek word for actor) by the description of theatrical pretense in the second. The two parts were first separated by Pithou, in his second edition of 1578. He was followed, among others, by Bücheler and Müller. As done e.g. by Slater 1990b, 160. Cf. Bücheler 1862, 95, who already believed that these verses “ex alio loco inlati sunt”. I am referring to Connors 1998, 30 (pastry Priapus); 79-80 (pebble); 47-49 (parrot). She also sees programmatic references in Encolpius’ Sotadeans (Connors 1998, 33) and, as already hinted, in the verse on the mime (Connors 1998, 13-14). Cf. also Connors 1998, 12 (poem at ch. 5). Cf. ch. XVII, with the literature quoted and discussed. The scholars who admit that this poem deals with expression, but limit it to the character Encolpius, fail to see that the latter’s wording of the story is identical with the text of the Satyrica, which is presented as reported by him. Cf., for example, Barnes 1971, 254274 (he, like others, limits the opus alluded to by Encolpius to the single episode in which the poem appears). Connors 1998, 146 (“in Petronius’ novel, the narrating voice does not seem to consider anything off limits: as Encolpius says [132.15.4], ‘whatever people do, my lucid tongue reports’”) implicitly contradicts her former statement (p. 72 n. 57: “clearly it is best to read this poem within the frame of Encolpius’ character”); it is in fact the “narrating voice” that creates the text of the novel.

Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica freedom to treat themes like sex, excluded from so-called high literature, sincerity joined with urbanity of expression, and – this is probably the deeper meaning of the final hint at Epicurus – art aiming at pleasure alone, with no pretense of usefulness. The poem was certainly understood as a literary program by Martial, as made clear by the introductory epistle to the first book of his Epigrams.23 All the poems not attributable to Encolpius, the narrating voice, must of course be actually recited by some other character in order to be reported in the narrative (although, as we have seen, the poem recited by Tryphaena at 108.14 contains a verbum dicendi belonging in the narrator’s report, so that its nature of authorial elaboration with no claim to actual mimesis is exposed). This poem, however, is a clear parody of epic speeches, as shown by the multiple allusions in the verse itself and in the whole context, as well as by the formula signaling the end of Tryphaena’s speech in verse, which clearly hints at those employed in epic (of the type haec ubi dicta dedit) and temporarily keeps the metric pattern even in the ensuing prose through the solemn rhythm produced by the first half of a totally spondaic hexameter: haec ut turbato clamore mulier effudit (109.1). One single poem is also recited by Quartilla (18.6: a generalizing conclusion of a speech begun in prose),24 Oenothea (134.12), and the cinaedus (23.3, discussed above). The poem at 14.225 is commonly believed to be recited by Ascyltos, but this is based on an editorial transposition with no support in the tradition. In the mangled text we possess it surely makes more sense if uttered by Ascyltos, but it might equally well be a reflection by Encolpius. Ascyltos never speaks in verse anywhere else in what survives of the Satyrica. The one poem recited by the rhetor Agamemnon (5)26 is very important, in that, in connection with the preceding prose, it presents an educational program which must be assessed against the background of what we know of contemporary literary culture. The poem is made up of two parts in different meters (choliambics and hexameters), which are clearly connected with each other (another single poem in two different meters is very probably 109.9-10: elegiac couplets and hendecasyllables). The first part treats the moral requirements to become a successful orator; the second, the studies necessary to attain the goal. The two parts are clearly connected by the strongly stressed sed opening the section in hexameters, marking the transition from the part in choliambics, cast in the negative form through the mention of the vices the future orator must be free from, to the positive program of literary studies. The poem is not, very probably, the schedium Lucilianae humilitatis (4.5), which must refer to a poem previ23 24 25 26

The verbal parallels are clear and numerous: cf. ch. XVII (also with references to other texts by Martial). Cf. Barnes 1971, 277-278; Yeh 2007, 505-506. See ch. III. Cf. ch. II, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. ch. I, with the literature quoted and discussed. 5

Introduction ously recited, possibly by Encolpius. Agamemnon introduces it by stating that he too (et ipse: 4.5) will express his literary ideas in verse (carmine), lest Encolpius should think that he (Agamemnon) did not appreciate (improbasse: notice the past tense) the “improvisation in Lucilius’ simple style”, i.e. the schedium, which, as a consequence, cannot be the poem he has not yet recited. Agamemnon’s questionable morals, as well as his intention and capability to carry out the program he proposes, are immaterial when the program itself is analyzed and evaluated. There are ideas which are clearly paralleled in contemporary or roughly contemporary rhetoric, sometimes with striking verbal simi, Agamemnon larities.27 Like Eumolpus, and like the author of the advocates the harmonization of inspired utterance (13-14 mittat habenas / liber; cf. 118.6 [Eumolpus] praecipitandus est liber spiritus… furentis animi vaticinatio; de subl. 13.2; 15.4; 32.4) and painstaking literary training (21-22 flumine largo / plenus and 4.3 lectione severa irrigarentur; cf. 118.3 [Eumolpus] ingenti flumine litterarum inundata; 118.6 plenus litteris; de subl. 13.2-3). It is of course impossible to ascertain whether Petronius approved or disapproved of this program and whether he judged it appropriate or not appropriate to the situation and needs of Roman culture at the time; but it must be realized that what is presented here are ideas that had full right of citizenship in the contemporary cultural debate. The frequent attempts to pass off Agamemnon’s educational program as risible and absurd in itself are therefore unjustified. The assessment of Eumolpus and his poetry is even more complex. Eumolpus is an important character in what survives of the Satyrica, and a professional poet. We have just sketched some of his theoretical ideas; he makes his most important statements in close connection with his most ambitious poetic essay, the Bellum civile. Like Agamemnon’s, so Eumolpus’ morals are questionable at best; but in my opinion it would be a misunderstanding if we believed, as some scholars do, that he uses poetry as a means to other ends. Quite the opposite: he is a compulsive poet that cannot give up what he believes to be his calling, even though he has long since realized that it offers no practical benefits. No doubt he is a swindler and a rogue; he will wear the mask of the philosopher to seduce the youth of Pergamum, but poetry for him is never roleplaying; even the “mime” he stages at Croton is metaphorically described as literary; and in the shipwreck he turns to poetry not to seek a famosa mors, like Horace’s vesanus poeta28 (he has not planned to die), but to face death in his real and true capacity – as a poet, as Giton and Encolpius face it as lovers. How is this to be reconciled with the actual samples of poetry with which Eumolpus regales the reader in the course of the narrative? And how does 27 28

6

The clearest parallels are perhaps to be found in Quintilian; cf. e.g Quint. 10.5.14-16 (see ch. I). Hor. ars 455-469.

Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica Petronius judge them? The first poem recited by Eumolpus (83.10)29 is in the form of a Priamel listing different lifestyles, like Horace’s first – and introductory – ode; but, unlike Horace’s, Eumolpus’ choice of a life devoted to poetry has to face a social situation in which all lifestyles are really reduced to one: all activities are pursued with the quest for money as the only goal; all have become a universal . Poetry is different from all other activities in that it does not afford practical rewards. Eumolpus obviously resents this; still poetry is, and will remain, his choice. Just like Horace’s first ode, the poem may be regarded as a sort of introduction to the poetry Eumolpus will produce in the novel, or rather to his whole way of being and acting. The omnipotence of money is of course one of the main themes of the Satyrica, and appears in several poems too,30 but it is also a prominent feature in Eumolpus’ most ambitious poetical essay, the Bellum civile.31 The other two short poems he recites are impromptu compositions; but the first one, 93.2, which, like 83.10, continues a speech begun in prose, and contains a tirade against the craze for the exotic, also features a theme that not only appears in the verse recited by Trimalchio at 55.6, but again presents very close parallels with the beginning of the Bellum civile.32 The second, 109.9-10,33 is a paignion on Encolpius’ and Giton’s temporary baldness. Like the poem at chapter 5, it appears to be made up of two parts, the first one in elegiacs, the second in hendecasyllables. It is probably one poem, although according to several scholars the two parts are really distinct compositions, perhaps originally separated by a prose interlude suppressed by the excerptor. As a professional poet, Eumolpus produces the two ostensibly most ambitious poetic pieces in the novel: the Troiae halosis (89) and the Bellum civile (119-124.1).34 The recitation of the first one is greeted with a throwing of stones by some accidental listeners (90.1). This might be taken as a covert judgment 29 30 31 32

33 34

Cf. ch. X, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. e.g. Stöcker 1969, 146-151. Petr. 119.41-55. E.g. Petr. 93.2.3-5 at albus anser / et pictis anas involuta pennis / plebeium sapit; 10 quicqid quaeritur, optimum videtur ~ 119.7-8 non vulgo nota placebant / gaudia, non usu plebeio trita voluptas. Cf. ch. XII and app. I, with the literature quoted and discussed. The problems raised by these two compositions would require a monograph in its own right and can hardly be addressed in this book, which deals with the Satyrica’s short poems. We shall briefly treat them solely in their relation, qua poems, to the prose narrative as well as to the other verse parts of the novel. A clever simile proposed by Connors 1998, 100 should be kept in mind: the Bellum civile is like a rat swallowed by a python; as a part of the Satyrica it produces an impression very different from the one we would get if it were a free-standing piece. For the Troiae halosis and the Bellum civile see lastly Yeh 2007, 116-188, 195-385, 423-470, with the literature quoted and discussed. 7

Introduction passed by the author, but the contemporary public, as portrayed in the Satyrica, hates poetry, be it good or bad (90.2-3; 93.3),35 and Eumolpus has a point when he considers that his poetic calling marginalizes him in contemporary society (84). This is humorously offset through the fleeting appearance of the one character who fervidly admires Eumolpus: Bargates (96.4-7). Also, we should not forget that the Troiae halosis is presented as an impromptu ekphrasis of a painting (89 conabor opus versibus pandere) and the Bellum civile as an unfinished and unperfected poem (115.4; 118.6 – and the last line does indeed have the appearance of a stopgap). The Troiae halosis (the title is curiously reminiscent of the Halosis Ilii reportedly sung by Nero during the fire of Rome: Suet. Nero 38.2 – though in Petronius it is referred to the painting, not to the poem) is often taken to be a parody of Senecan tragedy,36 since it is written in tragic meter (iambic trimeters), and it does somehow resemble the reports of “messengers” common in tragedy. The ekphrastic pretext is totally forgotten; the poem is developed as the report of different moments and scenes by an eyewitness, indeed by a Trojan: there are verbs in the first person plural (11; 35), and even the apostrophe o patria (11). But of course the description, and indeed the reader’s expectations, could hardly prescind from Virgil’s narrative in Aeneid 237 – though with the meaningful shift of attitude we shall presently try to sketch. The other extensive poetic essay, the Bellum civile, is introduced by Eumolpus with clear references to Lucan: when he says (118.6) that historical epic cannot dispense with the traditional mythological machinery and apparatus, he surely has the Pharsalia in mind, a poem that had done away with the mythological gods. Indeed, Eumolpus’ poem covers the same subject as Lucanus’ first book, and there are clear reminiscences of the Pharsalia, including parts that had not been published by Lucan in his lifetime (e.g. 294 ~ Lucan. 7.473; 8.3335

36

37

8

Encolpius himself seems at times to share this attitude (90.3; cf. 93.3), although he is consistently portrayed as compulsively associating his own adventures with those of literary heroes. The impression produced upon him by the Bellum civile is expressed with a somewhat ambiguous formulation (124.2 cum haec Eumolpus ingenti volubilitate verborum effudisset. Such volubilitas was disparagingly associated with the shallow verbosity often attributed to the contemporary Greeks: Plin. ep. 5.20.4; Val. Max. 2.2.2). At 110.1 (plura volebat proferre, credo, et ineptiora praeteritis) Encolpius is simply reacting to Eumolpus’ paignion making fun of his and Giton’s temporary baldness. This is denied, e.g., by Barnes 1971, 92-94 and Yeh 2007, 486-487, though the latter stresses the poem’s metric affinity with Seneca’s tragic trimeter (Yeh 2007, 422-434), which of course does not rule out some differences (Yeh 2007, 434-442, 450 ff.). Stubbe 1933, 31-37, though conceding that Petronius (or rather Eumolpus) tries to emulate Virgil, strangely denies that he directly referred to the Aeneis (p. 31: “es läßt sich jedenfalls deutlich zeigen, daß Petron den zu behandelnden Stoff sich nicht an einem vorliegenden Aeneistext vergegenwärtigte”). Whatever details may come from different sources acquire special significance and relief only in relation to the Virgilian version.

Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica 34). Given Eumolpus’ attitude (at 118.5 he calls Virgil Rome’s national poet: Romanus Vergilius), the reader expects him to stick to Virgilian expressive modes, and in a way he is not disappointed. There are of course numerous Virgilian reminiscences,38 although Eumolpus’ hexameter may be less close to Virgil’s than has been routinely assumed;39 and at 123.229-237 Eumolpus recasts a simile borrowed from Lucan (1.498-509) into a typically Virgilian mold (parabole introduced by ac velut[i]… cum, with ac and velut reinforcing each other: cf. Verg. Aen. 2. 626 ff.; 4.402 ff.; 6.707 ff.), which is also found in Statius [Theb. 5.599 ff.; 7.436 ff.] and Silius [4.302 ff.], but never in Lucan). This formal detail is already a token of the attitudes of the supposedly traditional, Virgilian branch of Roman epic. The divine figures of the Bellum civile, such as Fortuna or Discordia, are personified allegories more reminiscent of Statius than of Virgil; and in both the Bellum civile and the Troiae halosis we witness an almost morbidly sinister transfiguration of Virgilian elements to fit a dark and hopeless overall picture: e.g. the figure of Laocoon in the Troiae halosis, where no redeeming hope for the future is in view, and some pointed reversals of Virgilian descriptions in the Bellum civile (e.g. 119.53 ~ Verg. Aen. 6.637; 124.253 ac maerens lacera Concordia palla ~ Aen. 8.702 et scissa gaudens vadit Discordia palla; 124.272 extulit ad superos Stygium caput ~ Aen. 1.127 summa placidum caput extulit unda). Ever since Seneca the Elder (contr. 1 praef. 6-7) Roman writers had the feeling of living in an age of epigones. Some, like Lucan, tried to open new paths; some, like Eumolpus and his rightful heirs Statius and Silius, refused to follow them, and though they did attempt some interesting experiments (such as the fusion of epic and tragedy or the “expressionist” exasperation of the received patterns), their poetry was bound to be caught in a dead-end road. In conclusion, though we will never know what Petronius thought of Lucan’s epic and the alternative approach represented by Eumolpus, we should be aware of the fact that, like in the case of Agamemnon’s ideas on rhetoric, he presents us with a position that had full right of citizenship in the contemporary debate, and was actually to gain the upper hand in the following generation. Eumolpus surely represents a recognized cultural trend; the correspondence of the judgment he passes on the historical epic with no mythological machinery (118.6 quod longe melius historici faciunt) with the evaluation of Lucan as a historian rather than a poet that obtained down to the end of antiquity and beyond 38 39

Cf. e.g. Barnes 1971, 143. Stubbe 1933, 103, Barnes 1971, 128, Connors 1998, 116 n. 47 all have stressed the closeness of Eumolpus’ hexameter to the Virgilian pattern. On the basis of a thorough metrical analysis, however, Yeh 2007, 259 concludes that the meter of the Bellum civile differs both from Virgil’s and from Lucan’s. It rather shows archaizing leanings and is close to Silius Italicus’ hexameter (Yeh 2007, 385, 575; etc.). 9

Introduction (Serv. Ad Aen. 1.382 Lucanus… in numero poetarum esse non meruit, quia videtur historiam composuisse, non poema, almost literally repeated by Isid. orig. 8.7.10; Comm. Bern. in Lucan. 1.1 Lucanus dicitur a plerisque non esse in numero poetarum, quia omnino historiam sequitur; Iordanes, Get. 5.43 Lucano plus historico quam poeta testante; and cf. already Mart. 14.194) cannot surely be coincidental. Another character in the novel is portrayed as customarily composing poetry: the rich but ignorant Trimalchio. He epitomizes a social phenomenon exposed by Horace (epist. 2.1.117 scribimus indocti doctique poemata passim). For the former slave this is a way to assert his social success. Interestingly enough, not all of Trimalchio’s poetry that is recited in the novel is actually reported (41.6; neither is Trimalchio’s recital of mime at 35.6),40 but only a few specimens recited by himself, obviously sufficient to show haw bad a poet he is. The two “epigrams” at 34.10 and 55.341 contain the whole, very commonplace “philosophy” of the author: enjoyment – especially food and drink – is the only remedy against death and misfortune. The first one has been obviously prepared beforehand and is introduced with a careful stage direction: 100-year-old wine, a prose speech opening with the same word as the poem (eheu) and containing its most conspicuous one (homuncio), the silver skeleton. The meter (two hexameters followed by one pentameter) is typical of uncultured literary production (it is commonly found in funerary inscriptions), and, with Trimalchio’s failure to keep correct grammar (sic erimus cuncti postquam nos auferet Orcus, instead of abstulerit), it neatly characterizes his pretentious ignorance. The second epigram (55.3) is composed at the moment, after the fall of an acrobat, which could hardly have been planned in advance.42 Trimalchio asks for writing material, but cannot concentrate for too long and comes up with three metrically very defective lines, a vain attempt to reproduce the meter of the previous poem. The third poem is recited by Trimalchio immediately after (55.6) and attributed to him to the mimic poet Publilius Syrus. These lines, however, are probably by Petronius, and therefore, in the novel’s fiction, by Trimalchio.43 The poem, at any rate, aims to pursue his characterization. Trimalchio’s extravagant pairing of Cicero and Publilius, which introduces the verse, is surely meant as a sign of his ignorance. That these lines mean to parody Seneca’s use of quotations from Publilius

40 41 42

43

10

Similarly, only the first line of the recitation by Habinnas’ slave is reported (68.6); but it is immediately followed by Encolpius’ expression of disgust. Cf. ch. V, with the literature quoted and discussed. Yeh 2007, 96 unplausibly thinks that the acrobat’s fall has been planned beforehand, and even less plausibly that 34.10 and 55.3 really constitute one single poem (Yeh 2007, 97-98, 521-522). Cf. ch. VI, with the literature quoted and discussed.

Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica in his moral writing44 is surely possible, but it is hard to believe that the author has totally superimposed himself upon his character. The poems that can be attributed to Encolpius are both the most interesting and the most difficult to assess. He is the narrator, and does not need to utter his poems as an acting character in order to report them. Actually, aside from the prayer to Priapus at 133.3, in the surviving parts of the novel no poem appears to be recited by the character Encolpius in the situation reported, including 126.1845 (the words at 127.1 delectata risit tam blandum probably appear after a lacuna and are hardly the description of Circe’s reaction to the recital of Encolpius’ poem); and we are not sure whether the schedium Lucilianae humilitatis (4.5) was recited by him to Agamemnon, even though, as we saw, this appears to be possible. Poems by Encolpius appear at 79.8, 80.9, 126.18, 127.9, 128.6, 131.8, 132.8, 132.11 (Virgilian cento), 132.15, 133.3, 135.8, 136.6, 137.9, 139.2. He is also probably the author of 82.5,46 15.9 (two isolated lines, the only surely incomplete poem), and possibly also of 14.2, which, as we have seen, most editors attribute to Ascyltos. Two of these poems, 133.3 and 139.2,47 are crucial for the interpretation of the novel as a whole. In both the central figure is the god Priapus. The first one is a prayer addressed to him by Encolpius after being affected by sexual impotence, modeled after well-known patterns of such invocations, and containing the confession of a “minor fault” (culpaeque ignosce minori: v. 11) as well as a declaration of innocence as far as such grievous faults as murder and sacrilege are concerned. The second is a list in the form of a Priamel of heroes who were persecuted by some god, culminating with Encolpius himself, hounded, as he says, by the wrath of Priapus. Over 120 years ago Elimar Klebs48 based himself on 139.2 to support his theory that the wrath of Priapus was the leitmotif granting unity not merely to the parts that came down to us, but to the novel as a whole, ever since its beginning (probably in the city of Massilia, modern Marseilles), and fulfilling the same function as the wrath of Poseidon in the Odyssey. Klebs’ theory enjoyed great success, and is accepted even today by several scholars, though the idea of Priapus’ wrath persecuting Encolpius from the very beginning hardly seems to be well-founded. It is based on the notion that Encolpius’ impotence should be regarded as a punishment, whereas, in his prayer to Priapus, Encolpius himself sees it as a fault, even though a minor one, for which he must ask for the god’s forgiveness, as confirmed by his statement that this fault was committed with only a part of his body, which hardly needs to be specified (133.3.9). It is also 44 45 46 47 48

Cf. e.g. Courtney 1991, 21. Cf. ch. XIII, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. ch. IX, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. ch. XVIII, with the literature quoted and discussed. Klebs 1889. 11

Introduction clear, despite the efforts of some scholars, that Encolpius was not impotent before his adventure with Circe (cf. 11.1, 24.7, 79.8, 129.1),49 and that he, formerly an Achilles in sex-play, as he says (129.1), is not only saddened, but also surprised at his failure with her. His declaration of innocence as far as murder and sacrilege are concerned, however, does not necessarily imply that he never committed these crimes. The confession of minor faults, while disclaiming more grievous ones, obeys a wellattested pattern of ancient prayers. Clearly, Encolpius is referring to the present situation, in which the fault to be forgiven is only his impotence with Circe, not any crime he may have committed in the past. In preceding parts of the novel we come across at least three passages (9.8 [Ascyltos], 81.3, 130.1-2) which lead us to believe that Encolpius is really guilty of murder and sacrilege. The efforts of some scholars to have us regard these three passages as unreliable, and thus clear Encolpius of these crimes, are unconvincing; it is difficult to understand why Encolpius (as well as Ascyltos) should always lie, and tell the truth only once – furthermore in his very prayer to Priapus, in which such a declaration of innocence was required by the accepted patterns of religious speech. Besides, Encolpius does not come immediately, but rather slowly and gradually, to the conclusion of being persecuted by a god, like the mythological heroes of 139.2. At first he thinks of a spell (128.8; and still at 138.7), and even of psychological and pathological reasons (130.5, 7-8); but, whatever the cause, it is clear that impotence is an offense against the god of sex, Priapus, for which forgiveness must be asked. Finally, since nothing avails, be it magic, medicine, or prayer, Encolpius comes to the conclusion that he must be persecuted by a god, and that his impotence is not merely a fault, but also and primarily the effect of Priapus’ wrath (139.2.7-8); and he sticks to this idea in the few more pages that survive (140.11, 12). In this whole episode Encolpius’ mind comes to be more and more dominated by Priapus – which means that the god plays an important role in this part of the story, but hardly warrants the attribution to him of such a central function from the very beginning of the novel. Not rarely Encolpius’ poems are presented as his own reflections, which “universalize” the specific situation being narrated; but neither do they all belong to this type nor do they invariably define the moods of the acting character as opposed to the allegedly more detached attitude of the narrator at the moment he reports his past adventures. Some are mere descriptions (131.8, 135.8);50 in one case (132.8; cf. 132.11)51 the poem continues the narrative. It is clearly a fallacy to believe that the poems invariably represent the literary transfiguration through which reality is perceived by the naïve, or “mythomaniac” character Encolpius – and that it is invariably exposed as delusion by the older and more 49 50 51

12

At 20.2 and 23.5 Encolpius’ failures are due to exhaustion and disgust respectively. Cf. chapters XVI and XX respectively. Cf. ch. IV.

Petronius’ Poems in the Satyrica mature narrator in the prose. Sometimes the verse clearly reveals that the literary transfiguration continues in the narrator’s present: the poem at 136.652, for example, proves that the narrating voice still believes that the geese with which he has fought in the narrated adventure were like mythological monsters, as shown by the present tense (136.6.1-2 tales Herculea Stymphalidas arte coactas / ad caelum fugisse reor). In reality the moments in time defined by the poems are interchangeable: 126.18 and 139.2 appear to be the acting character’s reflections, 80.9 and 137.9 the narrator’s. At times the narrator vividly relives in verse the emotions he experienced as a character: 79.853 (qualis nox fuit illa, di deaeque) clearly reflects the narrator’s standpoint, as shown by the perfect tenses; but in the prose he has his sobering present violently break in upon his cherished past: sine causa gratulor mihi (notice the present tense, as opposed to the past tenses in the poem). In general, when verse and prose define two different moments, it is always the narrator – and of course Petronius behind him – who contrives this effect for artistic purposes; the two moments can never be separated, if we are not to miss the author’s subtle play. In the cycle of poems connected with Encolpius’ adventure with Circe (126.18, 127.9, 131.8, with 128.6 in between)54 the first two poems hark back not merely to the Odyssey, but to an even greater extent to Iliad 14 (Zeus and Hera making love on mount Ida).55 The scene is transposed from nature to a garden (cf. also 131.8). Save perhaps 131.8, the poems taken in and by themselves appear totally serious; but Encolpius’ impotence, narrated in the prose, forms the other panel of the diptych, which can only be understood and enjoyed as a whole. In the Oenothea episode, while the prose consistently depicts a sordid reality, the four poems (including the first one, 134.12, recited by the priestess) record the changing moods of Encolpius and hark back to different literary models: Theocritus (134.12),56 Callimachus and Ovid (135.8, in which Callimachus’ Hecale is expressly quoted),57 Hellenistic epic (136.6).58 The fourth poem, 137.9,59 in elegiac couplets, whereas the previous ones are in hexameters, is a reflection on the omnipotence of money, prompted by the conclusion of the episode. The last two poems reflect the standpoint of the narrator; both contain a verb in the first person of the present tense (136.6.2 reor; 137.9.9 multa loquor), 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59

Cf. ch. XXI, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. ch. VII, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. chapters XIII, XIV, XVI, and XV respectively. But with a pointed reversal of the sexual roles, made explicit in the prose context: cf. ch. XIV. Cf. ch. XIX, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. ch. XX, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. ch. XXI, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. ch. XXII, with the literature quoted and discussed. 13

Introduction but they define two different attitudes: the continued literary transfiguration on the one hand, the disenchanted assessment of reality on the other: obviously, not even the sadder but wiser Encolpius has entirely lost his irremediable literary “idealism”.

14

Chapter I The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5)* 4.5 Sed ne me putes improbasse schedium Lucilianae humilitatis, quod sentio et ipse carmine effingam: 5. artis severae si quis ambit effectus mentemque magnis applicat, prius mores frugalitatis lege poliat exacta. Nec curet alto regiam trucem vultu cliensque cenas impotentium captet, 5 nec perditis addictus obruat vino mentis calorem, neve plausor in scaenam sedeat redemptus histrioniae addictus. Sed sive armigerae rident Tritonidis arces seu Lacedaemonio tellus habitata colono 10 Sirenumque domus, det primos versibus annos Maeoniumque bibat felici pectore fontem. Mox et Socratico plenus grege mittat habenas liber et ingentis quatiat Demosthenis arma. Hinc Romana manus circumfluat et modo Graio 15 exonerata sono mutet suffusa saporem. Interdum subducta foro det pagina cursum et fortuna sonet celeri distincta meatu; dent epulas et bella truci memorata canore grandiaque indomiti Ciceronis verba minentur. 20 His animum succinge bonis: sic flumine largo plenus Pierio defundes pectore verba. 4.5 L(=ldmrtp)O(=BRP) 5 LO 4.5 schedium lmgtmgp: schadium B: studium Bmgcett. Lucil(l)ian(a)e lmgtpB: Lucianae lRP Samb. Puteol.: Lucinianae dmr humilitatis dmrtBmg: improbitatis pO: vel improbitatis humilitatis l 5.1 ambit tmg: amat LO : hamat lmgE(Messanensis deperditus) 2 mores BR: more cett.

Chapter I 3 poliat Heinsius: polleat dmrtpO : palleat ltvl 4 nec LP : ne BR 5 cliensve p2 Scaliger 7 scaenam Heinsius (sce-): scena 8 histrioniae lmgtp Samb.: histrionei drmgB: histrioni ltvlRP : histriones m Memm.: histrionis r Turneb. Scaliger: histrion G(Guelferbytanus extravag. 299) ad rictus Ribbeck: (histrionis) ad dicta Bücheler1 (ubi ad dicta perperam impressum est) 11 Sirenumve Bücheler 15 hinc m Samb. Puteol.: huic O: hunc lmgdrtp : huc l 16 exornata R: alii aliter emendaverunt 22 defundes lmgE Scaliger: diffundes LBR : diffundens P

1. It has become customary to identify the poem recited by the rhetorician Agamemnon, which takes up the whole chaper 5 of the Satyrica, with the schedium Lucilianae humilitatis1 mentioned by him immediately before. This being so, it is necessary, before analyzing these lines, to check whether it is indeed justified to do so. There are, it is true, a few scholars who observe that this identification is hardly warranted by the Petronian text. Collignon2 was the first to realize that the words et ipse carmine effingam appear to show that, before Agamemnon’s speech, a schedium in the Lucilian manner had been recited by somebody else, probably Encolpius, in a lost part of their dialogue, which opens the part of the novel that has come down to us. This idea was later picked up by Ciaffi,3 who also calls attention to the perfect infinitive improbasse, which appears to refer to the past. Barnes4 believes, in fact, that with the words schedium Lucilianae humilitatis Agamemnon is referring to a lost poem recited by Encolpius, and stresses the fact that the rhetorician refers to his own poem with a different term (carmine effingam). Cosci5 develops Ciaffi, in that she contends that improbasse can hardly be taken as an aoristic perfect defining no temporal relation * 1

2 3 4 5

16

A version of this chapter has appeared with the title La poesia in Petr. Sat. 5, “Prometheus” 28, 2002, 253-277; 29, 2003, 65-78. This is the text which can be reconstructed with all but absolute certainty: see the critical apparatus. The term schedium obviously suggested Lucilian associations: cf. Lucil. 1279 M. = 1296 Krenkel = H 14 Charpin; Apul. de deo Socr. prol. 104, p. 164 Beaujeu (in reality to be referred to the Florida) etiam in isto, ut ait Lucilius, schedio; Festus p. 450, 16-21 L. (cf. Paul. exc. p. 451, 9-11 L.). See, among others, Collignon 1892, 229; Fiske 1909, 122-123; Ingersoll 1912; Mariotti 1960, 17, 78-79; Flores 1982, 77-88; Aragosti 1995, 140 n. 8; Scarsi 1996, 6 n. 5. Nothing new in Cavalca 2001, 149-150. Collignon 1892, 228. Ciaffi 1955, 24-25 and n. 20. Barnes 1971, 27-28. Cosci 1978, 202-203. Before Cosci, the idea that the schedium had been recited by Encolpius in a lost part can also be found in Coffey 1976, 192. It has also been adopted by Courtney 2001, 59.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) with the situation described.6 Aragosti too7 realizes that the words et ipse seem to refer to a poem previously recited by Encolpius and prompting Agamemnon to utter a poem too; but the conditioned reflex impelling to identify the schedium Lucilianae humilitatis with the preserved verse is so rooted and powerful that Aragosti takes it for granted that these words are nothing but Agamemnon’s way to characterize his own poem, though in an antiphrastic fashion.8 Long before, even Collignon, who had been the first to envisage the concrete possibility that the schedium might be not Agamemnon’s poem, but a lost one uttered by Encolpius, later devoted several pages to searching (in vain, by his own admission) for Lucilian elements in the verse at chapter 5, thus contradictorily identified, après coup, with the schedium Lucilianae humilitatis.9 There are, at any rate, three unequivocal textual data that call in doubt this identification, even though it is almost universally accepted: the fact that Agamemnon refers to his own poem with the term carmen, the perfect infinitive improbasse, and the words et ipse. It is undoubtedly possible to try to limit the import of each, but the heaping of the three in the short sentence preceding Agamemnon’s poem should at least give us pause. Carmine might indeed simply mean “in verse”,10 and therefore not refer to a poetic composition distinct from the schedium. We should however bear in mind that an unfortunately rather mangled passage of Festus and the corresponding abridgment of Paulus – both of which have been quoted in the footnotes11 – make it clear that this term applied not merely or even mainly to improvisation, but, in general, to poemata mala.12 It is true that judgments concerning the poetic worth of Agamemnon’s verse differ widely: some scholars find a clear trace of improvisation in the numerous repetitions found in it, whereas according to 6 7 8

9

10 11 12

As is the case with the perfect infinitive at 2.2: pace vestra liceat dixisse, primi omnium eloquentia perdidistis. Aragosti 1995, 132-133 n. 1. Aragosti 1995, 140-141 n. 8. On the other hand, even Cosci 1978, 202 and n. 5 expresses not too different an idea, thus contradictorily supposing the identification of the schedium with the verse at chapter 5. Flores 1982, 74 is more consistent, in that, though stressing that Agamemnon’s poem is anything but an improvisation (schedium), he rejects the idea that a previous poem recited by Encolpius may be alluded to in the context. See also Soverini 1985, 1731 n. 118. Collignon 1892, 232-235. The verse at chapter 5 is identified with the schedium also on pp. 229 and 230. On p. 234 Collignon admits that the comparison of this poem with Lucilius’ fragments does not yield any result. The failure of Collignon’s efforts along this line is stressed by Brugnoli 1963, 258; Soverini 1985, 1733 n. 124. Cf. the numerous examples collected in TLL III 470, 63-471, 11. Cf. above, note 1. This was perhaps the meaning the term had in Lucilius, if we may trust Lindsay’s integration in Festus’ text: us quoque poemata tis perfecti qui essent. Paulus has unde mala poemata schedia appellantur. For schedium as “poor poem” cf. also Scarsi 1996, 6 n. 5. 17

Chapter I others it is poetically refined and far removed from any humilitas.13 In any case, it seems to me, Agamemnon would hardly have referred to his own verse with a term carrying disparaging nuances (schedium), when he states immediately after that his carmen means to express his thought – and, what’s more, doing so by resorting to a term (effingere) which is often charged with nuances connected with a lofty and even sublime type of expression.14 As far as the perfect infinitive improbasse is concerned, obviously those who uphold the identity of Agamemnon’s verse with the schedium have no other resort but taking it as aoristic,15 though there are some who are not at ease with this interpretation.16 Concerning et ipse, finally, the prevailing interpretation among those who share the common opinion is that these words imply a reference to Lucilius himself; Agamemnon would say: “I will also express my thinking in verse, just like Lucilius did”.17 Let us now try to analyze Petronius’ text with no preconceptions. If we take the schedium Lucilianae humilitatis (which is the object of improbasse) to be one and the same with the poem appearing at chapter 5, that infinitive, even if understood as aoristic, hardly seems to be an appropriate expression, if Agamemnon is assumed to say, as this interpretation does, not that he does not or did not disapprove a schedium Lucilianae humilitatis, but rather that he shall

13

14

15 16

17

18

Sullivan 1968, 191 believes that the numerous repetitions (on which we will dwell later on) are meant to create the impression of an improvised composition. On the other hand, as we have seen (cf. note 8), Cosci, Flores, Soverini, and Aragosti believe Agamemnon’s lines to be anything but a schedium. Slater 1990a, 30 is isolated in thinking that the choliambics aim to create the effect of improvisation, whereas the hexameters strive to appear accurately thought out and polished. Cf. e.g. Cic. nat. deor. 1.47 soletis… cum artificium effingitis fabricamque divinam… describere; Macr. in somn. Scip. 1.17.5 totius mundi… collecta descriptio est et integrum quoddam universitatis corpus effingitur. Besides, effingo is often used in connection with literary imitation of lofty models: e.g. Gell. 8.8, 17.20.8 (Plato); 9.9.3 (Homer and others); Quint. 10.1.108 (Demosthenes, Plato, Isocrates); Plin. ep. 1.10.5 (Plato); 9.22.2 (Horace). As dixisse at 2.2 (see above, note 6). Cf. e.g. Pellegrino 1986, 143-144. Cf. Van Thiel 1971, 26 n. 2: “dem Infinitiv improbasse wird von allen präsentische Bedeutung beigelegt, was möglich, aber nicht notwendig ist”. Van Thiel believes the verb to refer to a previous pronouncement of Agamemnon’s about Lucilius’ poetry (and et ipse to have Lucilius as referent: “I too, in the manner of Lucilius”; but see below for the difficulties posed by this interpretation). Walsh 1996, 3 translates: “but I would not have you think that I have been carping at the impromptu commonplace utterances of a Lucilius, so like him I will express my feelings in verse”. Cf. e.g. Flores 1982, 72; Pellegrino 1986, 144, and Walsh’s translation quoted in the preceding note. Paratore 1933, II, 19 n. 1 takes et ipse to mean “io come tanti maestrucoli”.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) shortly present such a schedium himself, as in fact will happen.18 Clearly, the reference must be to a poem which is different from the one he too (et ipse) will recite. Besides, the referent cannot be Lucilius himself, as many scholars have suggested, but a poem in the Lucilian style. It is true that, if we take Agamemnon to say “I will also express my thinking in verse, just like Lucilius did”, it necessarily follows that the schedium of which he does not disapprove cannot be a simple allusion to a general literary typology but must be specifically referred to Lucilius’ poetic production;19 but it is not difficult to realize that such a reference, and therefore the interpretation connected with it, is not supported by the text.20 In fact, the adjective derived from the name of an author applied to the literary qualities of a writing in a construction like the one appearing in our text generally refers to a work written in the manner of that author, not to an authentic work of his. An oratio Ciceronianae eloquentiae is not by Cicero, just like a “sonnet of Petrarchan musicality” is not by Petrarch. It follows that the schedium Lucilianae humilitatis cannot be by Lucilius. Besides, if we surmise that Agamemnon means to say that the schedium is his own verse, the verb he uses would once more be hardly appropriate. Aside from the obstacle of the perfect tense of the infinitive, it is not easy to imagine that anybody would announce a speech he is about to present by stating that he does not disapprove of the form in which he will cast what he is going to say. Therefore, if the schedium is neither by Lucilius nor by Agamemnon, the most probable alternative is that the rhetorician is referring to a poem previously recited, probably by Encolpius, in a lost part, to which his own poem is meant to correspond and reply.21 I do not presume that the preceding remarks have unquestionably attained the truth; but I do believe them to point out the riskiness, or even the downright vanity, of searching for Lucilian elements in Agamemnon’s verse. We have al18

19 20 21

The expression carmine effingam does of course contain a future, but it can be understood in the way stated above, in the text, only if this carmen is taken beforehand to be identical with the schedium. Cf. the interpretations of Van Thiel and Walsh reported above, note 16; the same is true for those of Flores and Pellegrino: note 17. The reference is to a schedium Lucianae humilitatis, not to a humile Lucilianum schedium, nor to humilitas Lucilii. The plausibility of this approach is confirmed by a comparison with the ingenious, but needlessly complicated argument put forward by Flores 1982, 74 in order to deny the necessity to suppose a reference to a lost part. He understands Agamemnon’s words sed ne me putes improbasse schedium Lucilianae humilitatis as an ironical praise for plain improvisation in the manner of Lucilius, as opposed to the serious study he has previously advocated; on the other hand, however, the poem at chapter 5 will be anything but an improvisation. According to Flores, this alternation of assertion, negation, and final reassertion of artistic engagement would explain Agamemnon’s expression with no need to suppose a reference to a poem previously recited by Encolpius. 19

Chapter I ready mentioned Collignon’s failure in this attempt,22 even though his posture has been picked up by Sullivan,23 with no new arguments. Here we may add that it is equally vain – or rather apt to produce an effect opposite to the one intended by those who identify the schedium with Agamemnon’s poem – to pursue the contrary path, i.e. searching these lines in quest of elements contradicting the definition of schedium and the Luciliana humilitas.24 If we believe that such elements do exist, it would be more natural to admit that the poem at chapter 5 is not the schedium than to look for more or less far-fetched explanations crediting the author with this or that recondite intention on the only basis of the preconception that the definition of the poem as a schedium must be at odds with its actual literary quality. At any rate, Schönberger’s accurate analysis25 clearly shows that the model of Agamemnon’s poem is not Lucilius – neither in a positive nor in a negative, antiphrastic sense, – but rather Virgil, Horace, and Cicero. It is even more ineffectual and dangerous, then, to seek an explanation to the metrical variety of our poem (eight choliambics followed by fourteen hexameters) in Lucilian precedents for which all documentation is lacking, as done by some scholars.26 Such a conclusion is prompted by the natural association27 of Petronius’ chapter 5 with Persius’ Choliambics, which are very probably a proem written in a meter different from the hexameters of the following first satire, which also presents some of the traits of a proem.28 This pairing led Reitzenstein29 to believe that Persius was imitating Lucilius in juxtaposing two poetic

22 23 24

25 26

27 28

29

20

See above, note 9. Sullivan 1968, 191. See above, note 8, for the interpretations of this type proposed by Cosci (selfcontradictory), Soverini, Aragosti, and Flores (for the latter see also note 21). Those who find an element of stylistic humilitas in the frequent repetitions of the poem at ch. 5 (identified with the schedium) are at least more consistent: Collignon 1892, 230 (see note 9 for Collignon’s ambiguous position); Sullivan 1968, 191. Schönberger 1939, 509-510. Cf. also Barnes 1971, 19-21 (adding Propertius and Ovid to Virgil, Horace, and Cicero). Collignon 1892, 229 already believed that the metrical variety proved Lucilian derivation; in this too he was followed by Sullivan 1968, 191. Cf. also Fiske 1909, 122 and the justified reservations on the latter’s (and on Sullivan’s) position in Barnes 1971, 24-26, 38 n. 29. See below, note 43. The connection has been made by numerous scholars. Among those closer to our time I will only mention Flores 1982, 75-76; Soverini 1985, 1733 n. 123 (with some reservations); Connors 1998, 12; Courtney 2001, 59; Yeh 2007, 514-515. Reitzenstein 1924, 4-5. Reitzenstein’s approach, besides being based upon the unproven Lucilian precedent, is clearly biased: he believes Agamemnon’s verse to be made up of two different poems and posits a strong affinity between Persius’ and Petronius’ subject matter, when in fact only some general similarities can be found (both criticize flattery of the powerful).

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) compositions in different meters. Based on this, Flores30 strives first to find in Persius’ Choliambics and first satire parallels to our Petronian poem, then to identify the referent of Agamemnon’s et ipse with some unattested Lucilian composition metrically analogous to the poem at chapter 5. It goes without saying that this is a totally hypothetical construction built on the flimsy foundation of the presence in Persius of a composition in choliambics,31 that I too take to be a proem, though according to others it is an envoy. Persius’ Choliambics, it is true, have the proemial function in common with his first satire, but the two remain nevertheless distinct and separate compositions,32 and are therefore not a real parallel to Petronius 5, where, as we shall see, the two parts, though differing in meter and content, are fused and integrated to form an organic unity. Much less, then, will it be justified to seek a parallel to Agamemnon’s verse in Lucilius, on the basis of his hypothetical influence on Persius. This preliminary paragraph has attained its goal if, aside from the acceptance or refusal of the interpretation of the words preceding the poem proposed here as the most likely, it will at least allow an unbiased analysis of the latter, deliver the interpreter from the obligation to look for either positive or antiphrastic references to Lucilius in the verse, and permit to look at the text with no preconceptions. 2. As already hinted, the two parts of our poem, though different in meter, function, and content, undoubtedly form an organic whole. Suffice it to remark the strongly adversative sed at the beginning of the hexameters, which can only be understood in opposition to what has been said in the choliambics.33 This has led some scholars to see the first eight line as the negative part of Agamemnon’s program, and the hexameters that follow as the positive didactic paraenesis.34 From the strictly formal point of view there is no doubt that the sed opening the hexameters marks a strong contrast to the negative precepts that

30 31 32 33

34

Flores 1982, 75-77. Justified reservations concerning alleged ideological, thematic, and verbal references to Persius are expressed by Soverini 1985, 1733 nn. 124-125. As rightly remarked by Barnes 1971, 25. Hardly anybody has doubted the unity of the composition, in spite of the change in the meter. Cf. e.g. Aragosti 1995, 141 n. 9: “i due gruppi di versi, da considerare senza soluzione di continuità” etc. Barnes 1971, 13 asks himself “whether we are dealing with a single poem or with two (or fragments of two)” but naturally concludes that we are faced with one poem; he actually goes as far as as regarding the mixed meter as “the only original touch in the whole poem” (p. 26). The manuscript A has versus XXII as a subscriptio to the poem (cf. Bücheler 1862, in the apparatus) So, for example, Stubbe 1933, 157; Schönberger 1935, 1242; Barnes 1971, 14; 22; Yeh 2007, 410; 513. 21

Chapter I precede.35 We cannot agree with Barnes, however, when he states36 that Fuchs’ remark37 on the positive import of the first precept given in the choliambics (prius mores frugalitatis lege poliat exacta) is nothing but a sophism. In fact, irrespective of the positive or negative form in which they are expressed, the precepts given in the first eight lines all advocate the observance of a high ethical standard, seen as indispensable to reach success in literature. From the conceptual point of view, therefore, the scholars who recognize in the choliambics the formulation of the necessary moral requisites, and in the hexameters the strictly didactic part of Agamemnon’s program, are surely in the right.38 Some interpreters rightly assume that this twofold feature of Agamemnon’s educational program supposes the traditional conception of the orator as vir bonus dicendi peritus.39 In fact, the rhetorical teaching of the I century A.D. not rarely supplemented the strictly technical and literary instruction with a strong recommendation to live according to high moral standards.40 This first instance of agreement between Agamemnon’s program and the leading representatives of contemporary, or quasi-contemporary, rhetorical teaching must be borne in mind when the import and validity of the former will be assessed. Cato’s traditional conception of the orator may be supplemented, in our lines, through an idea that was quite widespread at the time: the idea that the decline of eloquence was intimately connected with moral decay.41 The choliambics’ recommendations aim precisely to obviate the deterioration of contemporary ethical standards. Owing to this attitude the traditional theme of the incompatibility of profligacy and eloquence42 is enhanced through hints at contempo35 36 37 38

39 40

41

42

22

Walsh 1996, 3 is fully justified when, in his translation, he substitutes a pregnant question for Petronius’ sed (“what must he do?”). Barnes 1971, 22. Fuchs 1938, 173 n. 2; Stubbe’s and Schönberger’s interpretation (cf. above, note 34) was also rejected by Kissel 1978, 321 (among others). As already noted by Collignon 1892, 229. Cf. Walsh 1970, 86: “the change of the metres signifying the progression from moral to literary precepts”. See also Soverini 1985, 1713; Aragosti 1995, 141 n. 9. Cf. already Sage 1915, 48. Later especially Pellegrino 1986, 105-106; 113-114; 147. See, for example, Quintilian’s whole ch. 12.1, which opens precisely by reminding Cato’s maxim on the orator as a vir bonus dicendi peritus; besides, Quint. 1.11.2; 12.2.1; 12.11.18; Tac. dial. 28-29. These passages list several ethical behaviors to be avoided, inasmuch as they are harmful for the orator-to-be, sometimes with formulations that are very close to Petronius’ choliambics. Cf. Schönberger 1938, 174. Ogrin 1983, 49 proposes the interesting observation that Agamemnon’s poem presents the pairing of literature and life that can often be found in contemporary culture (cf. Sen. ep. 114.1 talis hominibus fuit oratio qualis vita, and see Setaioli 2000, 111-217). It is however difficult to follow Ogrin when she assumes a double level of meaning in the poem. A theme developed e.g. by Cic. Cael. 45-46, a passage that Schönberger 1929, 1199 believes to be the source of Petronius’ lines.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) rary social phenonmena (such as the claque in theaters, very probably the mention of the regia, etc.) and betrays an attitude not far removed from that of contemporary diatribe’s moralizing.43 This also explains the recourse to the choliambic meter, which, after Hipponax and Callimachus, had been employed not only by Herodas, but also by poets who wrote compositions of the very type we find here, such as Cercidas and Phoenix of Colophon.44 It is not surprising, on the other hand, that the literary precepts should be given in didactic hexameters not unlike those of Horace’s Ars poetica. These remarks, in my opinion, may explain our poem’s metric variety much better than the intent to expose Agamemnon’s feigned literary and rhetoric ability that some scholars attribute to Petronius.45 But this reference leads us to tackle the main problem posed by our poem: the meaning and the import of Agamemnon’s verse. 3. It seems to me all too easy to dismiss the educational program sketched in this poem by pointing out that it is put forward by a disreputable character, who can be caught in blatant contradiction with it, especially with the high moral standards advocated in the choliambics.46 This attitude, however, is not uncommon in Petronian scholarship and has spanned the whole of the twentieth century, from Monti47 down to several recent interpreters.48 Clearly, such an approach can easily slip into a convenient excuse for the lack of an in-depth analysis of the ideas expressed in the poem, which, not surprisingly, are often dismissed as hackneyed or even risible,49 or at best as Petronius’ way to expose Agamemnon’s ignorance and hypocrisy.50 There is undoubtedly a striking contrast between Agamemnon’s precepts and his practical behavior, which has of course been pointed out by several 43

44 45 46

47 48 49 50

The often repeated pairing of Petronius’ and Persius’ Choliambics is hardly coincidental. This association is justified if limited to the critical attitude towards contemporary ways (e.g. as far as flattery of the powerful is concerned); much less, if exact parallels are sought for: see above, text to notes 29-32. This “diatribic” attitude easily explains che choliambics’ aggressiveness as opposed to the hexameters’ quiet rhythm stressed by Paratore 1933, II, 19-23. Cf. Barnes 1971, 23; Flores 1982, 73 n. 36. E.g. Cugusi 1967, 88; also Panayotakis 1995, 8 n. 3. Just about all scholars have stressed the fact that Agamemnon, while expecting the future orator not to cadge free meals from the wealthy nor to serve as claque for theatrical stars (5.5; 5.7-8), is not above flattering Trimalchio in order to be invited to his banquets (52.7) and slavishly applauds his theatrics in the Cena. Monti 1907, 14-15. I will mention just a few: Barnes 1971, 26-27; 30; Pellegrino 1986, 119-120; Panayotakis 1995, 8-9; Sommariva 1996, 59-60; Conte 1996, 118-119. After Monti, cf. e.g. Tandoi 1965, 324 n. 3 (“il programma e le risibili idee… del… personaggio”); Walsh 1970, 85-86; Heldmann 1982, 254. Cf. e.g. Tandoi 1965, 324; Barnes 1971, 31; Pellegrino 1986, 119-120. 23

Chapter I scholars who do not believe in the seriousness of the educational program presented in the poem.51 Many have also remarked that Agamemnon is only playing a role: the role of the scrupulous schoolteacher he likes to be taken for.52 Roleplaying on the part of the several characters is in fact ubiquitous in the Satyrica, and can easily be assumed here too.53 Nevertheless, the very fact that Agamemnon is playing the role of a scrupulous schoolteacher, caring for his pupils’ education, makes it worthwhile – indeed necessary – to examine his program with great attention. Its seriousness must be assessed in itself, quite irrespective of Agamemnon’s obvious moral shortcomings, and even of his actual intention and capability to carry it out. Its validity can only be judged in the frame of an indepth analysis of the Petronian text in relation with what we know of the contemporary cultural debate. We should not forget that, aside from, and independent of, playing a role in order to attain particular goals,54 Agamemnon, like all other characters in the Satyrica, is mainly playing the primary role allotted to him by the author: that of the teacher of rhetoric.55 It can hardly be surprising, and is actually to be expected, then, that, as a literary character, he should be modeled after the typical teacher of the time.56 It follows that, in view of Agamemnon’s primary role in the novel – representing a definite professional group –, his program must necessarily possess a certain degree of seriousness.57 It may be added that the interpretations that regard the program sketched in our poem as the complete curriculum of an accomplished education58 do not seem to be unjustified. It must also be stressed that this program appears from the start to be closely linked with the actual problems outlined in the preceding prose text; it 51

52

53 54

55

56

57

58

24

Cf. e.g. Nelson 1956, 204; Kissel 1987, 327; the latter, however, rightly remarks that the inconsistency of Agamemnon’s behavior as compared with his precepts is irrelevant as far as the evaluation of his educational program is concerned. Suffice it to quote Slater 1990a, 32: “Agamemnon is a professional, if limited, poseur. Even his name denotes an assumed role”. Slater, however, rightly remarks that Agamemnon’s role-playing does not rule out a serious identification with the role. Panayotakis 1995, 9 is undoubtedly right on this point. Slater 1990a, 31 remarks that Agamemnon’s object in our context is not clear. The opinion of Kennedy 1978, 176, who believes he aims to obtain sexual favors from Encolpius, does not seem to be supported by the text. Walsh 1970, 86 thinks Agamemnon to be “the typical teacher of the age”, proposing an educational program “which every pedagogue approved”, though not believing it to be serious (cf. above, note 49) and fancifully looking for hints at Petronius’ personal situation in our poem. Sane remarks in Soverini 1985, 1734 and Barnes 1973, 797-798. As already observed by Monti 1907, 22-31, though he believed the ideas expressed by the character Agamemnon to be hackneyed. More recently Soverini 1985, 1726 n. 93 remarks that Agamemnon’s speech is in accord with the role he plays in the whole novel. This is recognized even by Tandoi 1965, 324 (Agamemnon’s speech is Petronius’ way to sketch him as a schoolteacher typically unable to get rid of commonplaces, but is serious “nelle intenzioni dell’espositore”). As done especially by Nelson 1956.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) closely linked with the actual problems outlined in the preceding prose text; it is not an ideal program to be carried out, if at all, later in time, as maintained by one of the scholars who take it to be serious.59 Quite the other way: our poem aims, in its two parts, to obviate exactly the evils pointed out in the previous prose speech: ambition at the ethical level, which entails, at the specifically literary level, superficiality and slovenliness, consequent to the haste with which practical success is sought and pursued.60 The morally oriented choliambics and the technical and didactic hexameters reveal their organic unity from this point of view too. This particular consonance with the preceding prose, as it seems, has never been pointed out before, but it seems undisputable that on this point Agamemnon’s poem picks up ideas he had just expressed, even though scholars disagree on the exact relation of the poem as a whole to the rhetorician’s prose speech, in spite of the conspicuous formal parallels.61 In the light of these remarks it seems to me that we are hardly entitled to dismiss the program proposed in our poem by declaring it insignificant or even risible. It is necessary, however, to avoid the opposite extreme, as represented by those who sever the poem and the prose context from the narrative situation and from the characters of Petronius’ novelistic fiction, to search for the author’s genuine literary ideas in the opening sections of the Satyrica. In this relation, the sanest attitude seems to be Soverini’s, who stresses Petronius’ detachment from the ideas and behaviors he lends the characters of his novel,62 even though, later on, he too does not resist the temptation to isolate some critical concepts allegedly corresponding to the author’s own ideas.63 In 59 60 61

62 63

I am referring to Kissel 1978, 320. Cf. Petr. 4.2-4. It is therefore incorrect to assume that the choliambics correspond to ch. 3 and the hexameters to ch. 4. See following note. These have been already listed by Collignon 1892, 230 (3.3 cum cenas divitum captant ~ 5.5 cenas impotentium captet; 4.1 severa lege proficere ~ 5.1 artis severae; 4.3 irrigarentur ~ 5.12 bibat… fontem and 5.21-22 flumine largo / plenus; 4.3 grandis oratio ~ 5.20 grandia… verba). Schönberger 1929, 1199 lists more parallels (also from chs. 1-2) and believes the choliambics to correspond to the ideas expressed in ch. 3, the hexameters to those in ch. 4 (in particular to 4.3: cf. also Schönberger 1938, 175 and Fuchs 1938, 173 n. 32); the correspondence of the choliambics to ch. 3 is rightly rejected by Kissel 1978, 321 n. 51. Many scholars, nevertheless, believe the whole poem to develop themes of the preceding prose chapters: among others Brugnoli 1963, 257; Cugusi 1967, 87; Barnes 1971, 29; Flores 1982, 73. Nelson 1956, 221 n. 5 seems isolated in warning that only sporadically do the former chapters provide material that can be useful for the interpretation of the poem. Soverini 1985, 1728; 1731; Cf. also Codoñer 1990, 73. Soverini 1985, 1735 n. 1. Cf. also Pellegrino 1986, 119, who believes it possible to pick out some ideas possibly corresponding to the author’s convictions. I am far from ruling out that Petronius may agree with some, or even with several, ideas on literature expressed by Encolpius, Agamemnon, or Eumolpus; I only wish to stress that his portrayal of these characters is totally artistic, not at all meant to convey the author’s critical 25

Chapter I my opinion these will for ever escape us,64 inasmuch as Petronius’ intention is not to express his own thinking but rather to sketch two fictional characters discussing literature on the basis of the guidelines commonly accepted in the contemporary cultural debate. This takes place, besides, in a largely elusive fictional context, owing to the state of the novel’s tradition. It is therefore hardly warranted both to contend that the ideas expressed in the Satyrica’s opening chapters are totally unrelated to Petronius’ own65 and to assert that they reflect them more or less faithfully,66 with the characters simply playing the role of his spokespersons. It is then all the more unjustified to inquire whether Petronius is closer to Agamemnon’s or to Encolpius’ ideas,67 even if this is done within the frame of a perfectly acceptable investigation of the relation of Encolpius’ and Agamemnon’s speeches to each other.68 It is more justifiable to compare the rhetorician’s literary ideas with those of another characther of the novel: the poet Eumolpus. It should be noted that they express them with similar formulations.69 Like Agamemnon, Eumolpus behaves

64 65

66 67 68

69

26

ideas; cf. Barnes 1973, 797; and already Collignon 1892, 62-63, even though he aims to glean Petronius’ literary credo from his characters’ utterances. Heldmann 1982, 244 rightly remarks that it is impossible to establish how much of the opinions stated by Encolpius, or others, is shared by the author. So Kennedy 1978, 176 (referring to Encolpius’ ideas expressed in chs. 1-2). A variant of this attitude is represented by those who believe that the ideas on eloquence expressed by Petronius’ characters are only the author’s way to portray them negatively: Tandoi 1965, 324; Barnes 1971, 27, 31; Panayotakis 1995, 8-9. Pellegrino 1986, 119120 proceeds farther than anybody else: he believes that Cicero’s quotations which Petronius places on Agamemnon’s lips (but that Petr. 5.13 Socratico… grege alludes to Cic. de orat. 1.42 philosophorum greges does not seem certain) mean to expose the superficiality of the rhetorician’s culture and, through him, the decay of eloquence. So Sage 1915, 48; Scheidweiler 1922, 1052; Schönberger 1929, 1200; Sullivan 1968, 164; Kissel 1978, 317-319. Rightly Barnes 1973, 797: “it is irrelevant to ask, with whom does Petronius agree?”. Cizek 1975a remarks that Encolpius launches a general assault against the decay of eloquence and of all the arts, whereas Agamemnon restricts himself to the former and identifies some faults which he tries to obviate (it is hard to understand why, on p. 199, Cizek ascribes the poem, which proposes the remedies, less credit than to the previous chapters); he believes Petronius to be closer to Encolpius. Similar ideas are expressed in Cizek 1975b, with a stronger emphasis on the compatibility of the two characters’ speeches. According to Kissel 1978, 318-318 the two speeches are perfectly complementary. Cf. e.g. Petr. 5.6-7 nec… obruat vino / mentis calorem ~ 88.6 at nos vino scortisque demersi; 5.13-14 mittat habenas / liber ~ 118.6 praecipitandus est liber spiritus; 5.2122 flumine largo / plenus ~ 118. 3 ingenti flumine litterarum inundata and 118.6 plenus litteris. Both Agamemnon and Eumolpus associate literary expression with philosophy (4.3 and 5.13; 88.7) and mention bona mens (3.1; 88.8). Both identify the cause of the decline with greed, foreign and insensitive to artistic perfection (4.2; 88.8). And, as we shall see, both try to reconcile enthusiastic inspiration with painstaking literary training.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) as a rogue; he is nevertheless sincere in his poetic vocation, irrespective of the literary level he attains.70 He has a deeper and more complex relationship with poetry than Agamemnon has with rhetoric; he practices poetry in person, and has actually adopted it as a lifestyle, whereas Agamemnon is, more than anything else, a teacher, and, even though he may theoretically believe that the true orator must be a vir bonus dicendi peritus, appears to be content with teaching this concept in theory; he does not live as an orator as Encolpius lives as a poet. 4. We may discuss, then, whether Agamemnon’s educational program amounts – or not – to a proposal that can be considered adequate to face the unanimously recognized crisis affecting Roman eloquence, but we can hardly dismiss it as an impostor’s absurd brainchild. It will be necessary, therefore, to examine it in detail and compare it with what the leading representatives of contemporary teaching were able to offer. Before proceeding on this path, however, it is necessary to refute some interpretatations that superpose whimsical patterns upon the reality of the text and can only divert attention from its real content and import.71 By sticking closely to the text we shall be able to avoid the misunderstandings to which many interpreters of our poem have fallen victim to. The poem’s last two lines72 confirm beyond any doubt what should be clear from the very beginning to the unprejudiced reader, i.e. that Agamemnon is concerned with the education of the future orator, with no reference to the activity of one that is already active and practicing.73 Consequently, subducta foro… pagina (v. 16) must be referred to literary but not specifically oratorical exercises, though ob70 71

72

73

See ch. X, not overlooking the final remark on the total separation between Eumolpus’ representation – or self-representation – and Petronius’ own opinions. According to Flores 1982, 71-72 the poem at ch. 5 explains and justifies the prosimetric nature of Petronius’ work. Ogrin 1983, 49-51, though starting from the interesting observation hinted at above (note 41), sees a double level of meaning in the choliambics, and proposes several idiosyncratic interpretations, which, by the way, suppose that Agamemnon be aiming at the education of the poets, when it is obvious that he has the orators in mind. Connors 1998, 12 suggests that the distinction of various literary genres in Agamemnon’s poems (but she overlooks the fact that they are supposed to lend their various virtues to the orator’s expression) may be pointedly opposed to the fusion – or confusion – of several genres in the novel. This is ingenious, but it is also a way to superimpose modern fashionable patterns upon the reality of the text – with the aggravation of looking for a nonexistent programmatic import where none is clearly visible, while rejecting it where, in my opinion, it is evident (at 132.25). Cf. ch. XVII and Introd. note 20. The imperative (succinge) followed by the future (defundes) corresponds to a conditional clause (cf. Setaioli 2000, 54). The acquisition of the bona listed in the preceding line is an indispensable condition in order to attain eloquence. This reference is supposed by Kissel 1978, 324-325. He has been rightly refuted by Pellegrino 1986, 163. 27

Chapter I viously aiming to acquire expressive ranges and powers the pupil will later be able to employ when he becomes a practicing orator. There is no hint at a temporary pause in forensic practice on the part of an already active orator.74 It is also self-evident, unless we lose sight of the reality of the text, that Agamemnon recommends not only reading the models, but also unremittingly carrying out written exercises, in reference both to Greek oratory of the Demosthenic type (v. 14) and to the Latin literary genres mentioned later (vv. 17-20). It is indeed difficult to explain otherwise the stubborn persistence with which the idea that our poem only proposes a canonical reading list keeps reappearing in Petronian scholarship,75 even though the correct meaning was already clear to Petronius’ early interpreters.76 In fact, almost all translations,77 obviously obliged not to lose contact with the reality of the text much more than critical essays are, correctly take it for granted that our poem refers to written exercises too.78 Some scholars propose a needless compromise: though they realize that our text implies something more than mere reading, they assume that it recommends the recital (almost a “performance” or “staging”) of the models rather than an attempt to imitate and reproduce them through written exercises.79 In reality, though we shall leave for the last paragraph some remarks on specific linguistic details, it is easy to notice as of now that Petronius’ formulation, after the mention of Homer and the Socratic philosophers, presents us with a dynamic view of literature: it is a living and acting might, which at first is put in 74

75

76

77

78

79

28

The reference to Sen. tranq. 7.2 Isocrates Ephorum iniecta manu a foro subduxit proposed by Friedrich 1935, 496, to prove that Petronius has the already practicing orator in mind, is hardly fitting. Frankly outlandish is the interpretation of Nelson 1956, 211, who wishes to lend an active meaning to subducta. See the rightful criticism of Müller 1957, 504-505. E.g. in Nelson 1956, 211, 214; Müller 1957, 505 (approving Nelson and expressly ruling out any reference to written exercises); Courtney 1970, 65; Walsh 1970, 86; Barnes 1971, 17; Kissel 1978, 325; Pellegrino 1986, 162; Courtney 2001, 60-61. Palmerius, Barthius, and Bourdelot already realized that this poem also refers to written exercises: cf. Burman 1743, I, 34-35. In more recent times the correct meaning was grasped by Sage 1915, 48; Schönberger 1935, 1243; Schönberger 1938, 175 (with fitting references to Cic. de orat. 1.95, 2.90, 2.96, 2.131, Quint. 10.1.2-3), 222 (with reference to Quint. 10.5.15); Tandoi 1965, 323-325; Ogrin 1983, 56 n. 39; Slater 1990a, 30. With the exception of Ehlers’ ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 15, who at v. 17 renders det pagina cursum with “soll er sich… der Lektüre befleißen” and translates vv. 18-19 with “lauschen dem ewig wechselnden Gang des Erdengeschehens, und wo ein epischer Dichter vom Krieg singt, sei er zu Gaste”. So, for example, Heseltine 1913, 9; Ernout 1923, 5; Aragosti 1995, 141; Reverdito 1995, 7. A case in point is Walsh 1996, 4 (a translation), who hints at written exercises (“let his page run free”), contrary to Walsh 1970, 86 (an essay): cf. above, note 75. Scheidweiler 1922, 1052 and Fuchs 1938, 173 mention the Vortrag of model texts (in reference to Demosthenes). Nelson 1956, 213-214, 215, 216 believes the Vortrag to apply to all model texts. This was, no doubt, a widespread practice in the schools of rhetoric (cf. e.g. Quint. 2.5.6-9).

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) motion by the pupil (v. 14 quatiat), but then operates of its own accord (v. 15 circumfluat; 16 mutet; 18 sonet; 19 dent; 20 minentur). After the preliminary preparation accomplished by resorting to Homer and the philosophers,80 then, Agamemnon’s verse assumes as a matter of course that the study of the models should not be separated from the active attempt at imitation and re-creation by the pupil through written exercises. In the first stage, which is devoted to Greek literature, he must try to reproduce the eloquence81 of Demosthenes.82 The shift to Latin models is also made in view of the pupil’s literary activity: the sapor which they must affect is the “flavor” of his writing, which is one and the same with the pagina of line 17. And, as we shall see more in detail later on, lines 1720 undoubtedly allude to literary exercises carried out by the pupil. There can be no doubt about this: Agamemnon himself has expressly stated, a few lines before, that the purpose of studying the models is to attain the ability to imitate them.83 According to some scholars the educational program proposed by the poem differs from the one that was commonly adopted at Rome at the time.84 We may counter this opinion by objecting, in the first place, that the two evils that the rheorician clearly diagnoses in his prose speech and tries to obviate in the poem – i.e. the parents’ ambition and their consequent indifference to the real learning of their children, if not conducive to immediate practical success85 – had been identified generations before as hindrances to the progress of Roman elo80

81

82

83

84 85

It should not escape attention that Homer must be “drunk” (bibat) and that one must have “one’s fill” (plenus) of the philosophers. In both cases there is no hint at any active “re-creation”. In view of this, Pellegrino 1986, 158 is probably right when he regards these stages as propaedeutic to the strictly technical study of eloquence. The importance of the reading of Homer for future literary activity is stressed by felici (v. 12), which must be taken as predicative: the Homeric source fertilizes the pectus of those drinking at it: a metaphor to say that it provides the necessary equipment for expression. Notice the complementary image (“food”, like “drink” here) in reference to the exercises in Latin epic (v. 19 dent epulas, for which see below). See below for the value of philosophical preparation. The image of weapons in reference to eloquence was traditional: cf. Schönberger 1939, 510. The expression Demosthenis arma is attested before Petronius: Prop. 3.21.27 (already quoted by Burman 1743, I, 33). Exercises in Greek with the intent of attaining eloquence in Latin were common in the orator’s apprenticeship; cf. Cic. Brut. 310 idque faciebam multum etiam Latine, sed Graece saepius… quod Graeca oratio plura ornamenta suppeditans consuetudinem similiter Latine dicendi adferebat. Petr. 4.3 quod vellent imitari diu audirent. It is hardly necessary to remind that the alternation of reading and writing was taken for granted; cf. e.g. Quint. 1.12.4 et stilus lectione requiescit, et ipsius lectionis taedium vicibus levatur. Cf. Sen. ep. 84.1-2. This is the opinion of Nelson 1956, 207 and Sullivan 1968, 165 (who at any rate does not see this program as revolutionary) See above, text to note 60. 29

Chapter I quence86 and continued to plague its teaching even after Petronius.87 The very structure of our poem, then, places it in the line of the most serious and unadulterated tradition of Roman teaching. Several scholars have maintained that the Campanian (and therefore Greek) Agamemnon, who places the study of Greek models before that of the Latin ones, must be addressing pupils whose mother tongue was Greek,88 or at least that he is snobbishly aping courses of studies meant for young aristocrats.89 This interpretation has rightly been refuted by several scholars.90 It is in fact well known that in Roman teaching Greek came before Latin at every level, including elementary education. It is hardly necessary to dwell on the numerous testimonies to this effect, which have already been adduced by many scholars.91 I will only call attention to the fact that among these witnesses we find Petronius himself92 and his contemporary Seneca.93 In Agamemnon’s curriculum Greek readings precede those in Latin – which of course mark a level that is closer to the final goal of the teaching, i.e. producing a Roman orator94 – just like in the former (Greek readings) poetry comes before prose, and in both areas the final and highest level is allotted to oratory, emblematically indicated through the names of Demosthenes and Cicero.95 This study program is in fact carefully graduated, with stages and passages which are punctually marked, even at the linguistic level: primos… annos, mox,

86

87

88 89 90 91

92

93 94 95

30

As attested in reference to Orbilius, Horace’s teacher, by Suet. de gramm. 9.2 librum etiam cui est titulus Peri algeos edidit continentem querelas de iniuriis quas professores neglegentia aut ambitione parentum acciperent. Cf. Tac. dial. 28.2; 28.5-6. Cf. Schönberger 1940, 624 for the difference between Petronius, who stresses the parents’ blameworthy haste, and Tacitus, who puts more emphasis on their indifference. So Nelson 1956, 206; Aragosti 1995, 141 n. 9. So Nelson 1956, 207. Cf. e.g. Müller 1957, 504; Kissel 1978, 322 n. 54; Pellegrino 1986, 154-155. Cf. e.g. Schönberger 1938, 222; Pellegrino 1986, 154-155; and already Burman 1743, I, 32-33. See, among others, Quint. 1.1.12; Plin. ep. 2.14.2. Ogrin 1983, 52 n. 24 rightly takes it for granted that Petronius is following the established didactic tradition. This was so ingrained that Quintilian (1.1.13) protests excessive delay in the study of Latin. Petr. 46.5 ceterum iam Graeculis calcem impingit et Latinas coepit non male appetere. The reference has been made by Schönberger 1935, 1243. This passage is correctly illustrated by Tandoi 1968, 77-78. Sen. nat. 6.23.4 quisquis primas litteras didicit scit illum (Neptunum) apud Homerum vocari. In the same way, in Quintilian (10.1.46-131) the list of Greek authors precedes the Latin ones. For the propaedeutic character of the exercises in Greek cf. above, note 82. It is hardly necessary to remind that both were regarded as the exemplary standard in Greek and Latin oratory respectively. Cf. e.g. de subl. 12.4-5 ; Quint. 10.1.39, 105-106; Iuv. 10.114; etc.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) hinc, modo, interdum, sic.96 Nothing different was to be expected from a teacher who shortly before had criticized those parents whose ambition and superficiality prevented the educator from carrying out the necessary laborum gradus.97 Interestingly enough, Agamemnon agrees with the best teachers of his time on this point too; actually, he places himself in the most authentic strand of the Ciceronian tradition, as interpreted by the finest representatives of rhetorical teaching in the I century A.D.98 Gradualness in teaching, on the other hand, does not rule out directing all levels of studies to the production of the accomplished orator, and identifying rhetoric with culture tout court,99 or at least with the climactic level of culture, in accordance with the conception of eloquence formulated by Agamemnon shortly before,100 again in agreement with what we find, for example, in Quintilian.101 As we have already remarked, the curriculum proposed in the hexameters is comprised of two inseparable and complementary components: reading and written composition. As far as the first one is concerned, it has been remarked102 that Petronius’ poem anticipates, under Nero, the effort to create a canon of standard models, which will be fully developed under the Flavians in Quintilian’s tenth book.103 We may add that Agamemnon’s canon, which is certainly much more meager than Quintilian’s,104 agrees with him in placing Demosthenes and Cicero at the summit of oratory; these are actually the only orators he expressly names. This remark (Nelson’s) is correct, but neglects the important circumstance that catalologs of this type had been put forward long before the Flavians. We 96

97 98

99

100

101 102 103 104

Cf. Barnes 1971, 35 n. 12; Connors 1998, 12 registers a looser network of stages and passages. The gradualness in study marks the whole structure of the poem and strongly supports the reading hinc at v. 15, as against hunc (accepted by Collignon 1892, 231 (other attested readings are huic and huc). Petr. 4.3. See e.g. Tac. dial. 30. 3 (Cicero) sua initia, suos gradus, suae eloquentiae velut quandam educationem refert; and cf. e.g. Cic. Brut. 232 gradus tuos (= Ciceronis) et quasi processus dicendi studeo cognoscere. Nelson 1956, 218 rightly remarks that Agamemnon recommends one single type of education: the rhetorical type, and that “«rhetorisch» ist identisch geworden mit «allseitig und allgemein gebildet»”; cf. Nelson 1956, 201. According to Pellegrino 1986, 156-158, the program sketched in our poem must be referred to the higher-level curriculum, in which the authors are studied in order to enhance one’s rhetorical capabilities. Petr. 4.2 eloquentiam, qua nihil esse maius confitentur. The same idea is expressed by Quintilian just in connection with the need for encyclopedic education on the part of the orator: Quint. 1.10.7 mirabimur, si oratio, qua nihil praestantius homini dedit providentia, pluribus artibus egeat…? Cf. also the following note. Cf. e.g. Quint. 1 prooem. 9-20. By Nelson 1956, 208. The rejection by Kissel 1978, 325 n. 67 is unjustified. Quint. 10.1.46-131. As rightly observed by Nelson himself (Nelson 1956, 202). 31

Chapter I may confidently state that in Petronius’ time they had been a relevant feature, at least in Greek teaching, for several decades. We may get an idea from the preserved abstract of a lost work by Dionysius of Halicarnassus: the De imitatione.105 Once more we should notice that Agamemnon follows the main strand of ancient rhetorical teaching: in both Dionysius and Quintilian the list is in fact comprised of poets, philosophers, historians, and orators – the very same literary genres which are mentioned in our poem.106 As far as written composition is concerned, it is hardly necessary to dwell on the numerous texts which, from Cicero on, recommend it as an essential part of the future orator’s apprenticeship.107 I will only point out a text by Quintilian,108 which, as far as I know, has escaped the attention of all scholars, but sheds clear light upon lines 17-20 of our poem, which have caused Petronius’ interpreters a great deal of problems. The comparison with Quintilian’s passage shows that Agamemnon is thinking of exercises through which the orator-to-be will undertake the writing of history, poetry (epic), and finally oratory of the Ciceronian type – the highest level of expression. In all three cases these exercises are different and distinct from those directly aiming to prepare for the activity in the forum: sometimes,109 says Agamemnon, the pupil’s writing must fling itself110 into a wider range than strictly required by his future profession: it must be sub-

105 106

107

108

109 110

32

Dion. Hal. de imit. fr. VI, II, pp. 202, 18-214, 2 U.-R. We shall point out – in part anticipating what will be developed later on – that poetry appears in lines 11-12 and 19; philosophy at 13; oratory at 14 and 20; history at 18. For the identification of the literary genres see below. The comparison with Dionysius’ and Quintilian’s lists is a further argument against different identifications. It goes without saying that even for the genres mentioned only in reference to writing reading is naturally required too. E.g. Cic. de orat. 2.90, 96 ; Quint. 10.1.1-3, 10.1.20. These texts are referred to by Schönberger 1938, 175, and prove that the reading of the models and written composition were inseparable. Quint. 10.5.14 alitur vero atque enitescit velut pabulo laetiore facundia et adsidua contentionum asperitate fatigata renovatur. 15 Quapropter historiae nonnumquam ubertas in aliqua exercendi stili parte ponenda et dialogorum libertate gestiendum. Ne carmine quidem ludere contrarium fuerit, sicut athletae, remissa quibusdam temporibus ciborum atque exercitationum certa necessitate, otio et iucundioribus epulis reficiuntur. 16 … nam si nobis sola materia fuerit ex litibus, necesse est deteratur fulgor et durescat articulus et ipse ille mucro ingenii cotidiana pugna retundatur. Shortly before (10.5.4-5) Quintilian encourages the pupil to write paraphrases of Latin orations too, which corresponds to line 20 of Agamemnon’s poem, just like the passage transcribed above corresponds to lines 17-19. Petr. 5.17 interdum; cf. Quint. 10.5.15 nonnumquam. This is how det pagina cursum should be understood. We are faced with a full-fledged metonymy: the pagina symbolizes the orator-to-be and the eloquence he deploys in his writing.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) ducta foro, that is not limited to judicial quarrels (ex litibus, says Quintilian).111 Only thus – so can be inferred from Quintilian – will it be possible to raise eloquence above the shallows inevitably bound with its practical function and endow it with vigor and swing. That the literary genres alluded to at lines 17-20 are history, epic poetry and Ciceronian oratory is recognized by some scholars,112 though no one, as far as I know, refers to Quintilian’s text we have just quoted. Many, however, propose different interpretations, in some cases also resorting to whimsical corrections and/or transpositions of lines.113 In reality Petronius’ text is clear enough in itself and the parallels in Quintilian and Dionysius of Halicarnassus we have pointed out114 help remove any reasonable doubt. The historiography line 18 refers to is the opus oratorium maxime of Hellenistic mold, in which fortuna ( ) played a crucial role with the swift inter111

112

113

114

Quintilian probably has both apprentices and practicing orators in mind. By contrast, the text of our poem does not allow to see a reference to the latter: cf. above, beginning of § 4, and note 74. E.g. by Nelson 1956, 221-217; Barnes 1971, 17; Kissel 1978, 325; Pellegrino 1986, 163-164. Courtney 2001, 60 and nn. 12-13 believes a reference to epic poetry not to be certain, though he does not rule it out. This also applies to preceding verses, starting with line 15 (for which see below, § 6). I do not mean to give a complete list of all the numerous (and equally unwarranted) corrections. They may be found in the works quoted in this note. I only point out that already Burman 1743, I, 39 states that, starting with line 15, “mihi hic sunt merae tenebrae”. The same remark is found in Bücheler 1862, 9: “hunc versum (15) et qui sequuntur ita dedi ut in libris leguntur, quoniam probabiliter emendati non sunt”. Müller 1961, 7 writes in the apparatus, in reference to vv. 18-19: “versus perobscuri”. Burman 1743, I, 36 placed v. 20 after v. 16. He was followed by Scheidweiler 1922, 1053; Fuchs 1938, 174 (who also transposes vv. 18-19); Courtney 1970, 65; Courtney 2001, 60 n. 11; and regrettably even by Müller 1995, 4. That this transposition is groundless is well demonstrated by Kissel 1978, 325 n. 65. These lines are supposed to be corrupt also by Schönberger 1935, 1243; Schönberger 1939, 511 (he also unconvincingly takes sonet to be transitive). Friedrich 1935, 496-497 believes that only historiography is alluded to (his interpretation of epulae and bella as the subjects it treats is unacceptable, though it has been recently picked up by Rimell 2002, 25, 96, 132, 167; cf. also Walsh 1996, 4: “recounting feasts and war’s harsh blasts / with lofty Ciceronian force”; Heseltine 1913, 9: “tell tales of feasts”); the syntactical structures of vv. 19-20 he proposes (Friedrich 1935, 496 n. 5) cannot be accepted either. By contrast, Collignon 1892, 232 believes lines 18-19 to refer solely to epic. Walsh 1970, 86 n. 1 refers line 18 to tragedy; a possible hint at tragedy is seen in line 19 by Slater 1990a, 30 (he too believes epulae and bella to be parallel). Schönberger 1935, 1243 (cf. Schönberger 1939, 511) corrects dent epulas to regum epulas, with Thyestes’ tragic meal in mind. Even more radical corrections to a similar effect were proposed by Birt 1928, 44. Quint. 10.5.14-16 and 10.5.4-5 (above, note 108); and the canons of models at Quint. 10.1.46-131 and Dionys. Hal. de imitat. fr. VI (notes 103 and 105). 33

Chapter I change of highs and lows.115 Quintilian not only recommends to practice it – together with poetry – as a literary exercise in the passage previously quoted,116 but elsewhere too he stresses its similarity to poetry, which makes it a veritable carmen solutum.117 Agamemnon places himself along the same line. It cannot be doubted, in fact, that at line 19 he implies that the future orator’s training includes exercises in poetry (concretely, in epic) after those in historiography.118 The expression dent epulas, which has sparked so many discussions,119 becomes perfectly intelligible only in the light of Quintilian’s passage we have often referred to, where very similar expressions appear.120 Quintilian’s context makes it clear that the epulae are to be identified with the exercises in poetic (and no doubt historiographical) composition themselves, even though this obvious meaning does not rule out, and actually supposes, the reading of texts of this type. Agamemnon’s lines must undoubtedly be interpreted in the same way: eloquence is fed (epulae) not merely through the study of the models, but also, and primarily, through written exercise. That historiographic and poetic writing should be called “removed from the forum” is hardly surprising; but even line 20 certainly hints at exercises in oratory of the Ciceronian type that are still directed to the proficiency of the oratorto-be in the name of pure and disinterested eloquence, with no reference yet to the practical success of the accomplished orator already practicing in the forum.121 As we have already remarked, Cicero represents the summit of eloquence for Agamemnon as for Quintilian and the other teachers of the time;122

115 116 117 118 119

120

121 122

34

Suffice it to refer to the clear treatment by Nelson 1956, 211-214. Quint. 10.5.15. Quint. 10.1.31 est enim proxima poetis et quodam modo carmen solutum. For parallels to bella truci memorata canore see Pellegrino 1986, 164. The most radical position consists in getting rid of dent, or epulas, or both words, through totally unwarranted corrections: see some in the apparatus of Bücheler 1862 and in Nelson 1956, 214, and see above, note 113. Regrettably, even Courtney 1970, 65 proposes to substitute per pugnas for dent epulas. Nelson 1956, 216 understands dent epulas as “let them please” the ear (his proposal to interpret et as a case of postposition is equally unacceptable: this et surely means “also”: cf. Müller 1957, 505); a similar interpretation in Kissel 1978, 325 n. 64. Both are criticized by Pellegrino 1986, 163, who understands “let them nourish the spirit” [cf. Tandoi 1965, 323 n. 1: “forniscano alimento, materia” (scil. to your oratorical exercises – which, therefore, are not identical with them)]. More interpretations above, note 113. Quint. 10.5.14 pabulo laetiore; 15 iucundioribus epulis. The complete text above, note 108. For epulae used metaphorically cf. Plaut. Poen. 1175 epulas dare (same iunctura as in Petronius) and the texts quoted at TLL V 2, 701, 11-25. See above, notes 73 and 74 for Kissel’s and Friedrich’s erroneous interpretation. The grandia verba of line 20 correspond in fact to the grandis oratio which is the ideal of both Encolpius and Agamemnon (2.6 and 4.3 respectively).

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) but in this poem Cicero is more important as a model of style than as a pattern of behavior in court.123 We can confidently assume, then, that line 20 alludes to exercises in oratory of the Ciceronian type. What remains to be ascertained is their specific nature. According to an appealing suggestion124 these would be suasoriae in the form of prosopopoeias, in which the pupil made the great orator speak, lending him firm words and attitudes against Mark Antony’s threats: a theme that had long since become commonplace in the schools of rhetoric.125 In reality, though, the reference to a genre that never attained autonomy and dignity out of the schools seems rather out of place after the hints at lofty genres such as epic and historiography.126 What is probably meant are reworkings of some of Cicero’s speeches, writings, that is, that formally belonged in the same genre of lofty oratory as those of the great Arpinas. As we have already seen, this type of exercise was expressly recommended by the teachers of rhetoric.127 An exercise described as subducta foro will probably not aim to reproduce Cicero’s judicial speeches; in all likelihood the models will be political orations, such as the Philippics (but also the Catilinarians, which fit the verb minentur even better), uttered by the great orator with strong political determination and indomitable civil passion (indomiti),128 pugnacious attitude (minentur) and lofty style (grandia… verba).129 In conclusion, it seems unquestionable to me that, after the study of the Latin models alluded to at lines 15-16, already combined with written exercises,130 Agamemnon’s program expects the pupil to try himself in the reproduc123 124

125 126 127 128 129

130

I am not the first to express this opinion: see Kissel 1978, 325 n. 65. By Tandoi 1965, 322-325 [p. 325: “tuonino declamati i grandia verba (da te rifatti per esercizio) di Cicerone che non intende piegarsi (ad Antonio)”]. Tandoi refers to Pers. 3.45 grandia… morituri verba Catonis. I had independently thought of a rhetorical exercise in prosopopoeia, before reading Tandoi; but later I have given up the idea. Cf. e.g. Sen. rhet. suas. 6 and 7. The same is true for the grandia verba, which echo the previously stated literary ideal (cf. above, note 122). Cf. Quint. 10.5.4-5 (above, note 108). Tandoi 1965, 324-325 refers indomiti precisely to the Philippics. According to Ogrin 1983, 56 n. 41 the epithet can only refer to Cicero’s political behavior. We gather from Quintilian that the orator must read and practice poetry and history in order to acquire the expressive ranges fitting the purpose of delectare and docere (Quint. 10.1.28 solam petit voluptatem; 31 scribitur ad narrandum, non ad probandum). Probably Agamemnon’s intention is the same, when he recommends exercises in historical and poetic writing; the formulation of line 20 seems to imply that the imitation of Ciceronian speeches was encouraged in order to acquire the expressive range aiming to movere. Possibly the stylisic sapor of line 16, which is surely to be referred to the pupil’s written exercises, also applies to his oratorical style, whose “flavor” will be changed by his oc35

Chapter I tion of the three genres alluded to at lines 17-20, oratory of the Ciceronian type occupying the top.131 In the same way, the reproduction of Demosthenes’ oratory is placed at top of the preceding stage devoted to Greek literature and writing.132 At any rate, in my opinion the great amount of parallels we have adduced in this paragraph, especially in connection with the part in hexameters of our poem (in addition to those previously pointed out for the choliambics)133 prove that Agamemnon’s educational program cannot be dismissed as lacking any seriousness, and that it actually belongs in the most engaged strand of contemporary teaching.134 Establishing whether Roman traditional teaching could adequately cope with the challenges faced by contemporary culture is quite another problem. This falls outside the scope of our inquiry. I only add that those who tax Agamemnon’s educational program as conventional and inadequate should do the same not merely with the degraded current practice of rhetorical teaching,135 but also with the attempts at obviating the crisis devised by the best teachers of the time.136 5. We have already repeatedly encountered the author that had risen to be the living symbol of Roman eloquence: Cicero.137 Agamemnon mentions him ex-

131 132 133 134

135

136

137

36

casional (interdum) forays into more spacious literary fields (the exercises mentioned at lines 18-20) At line 19 his… bonis is of course instrumental ablative, not dative, as interpreted by Rimell 2002, 72: “for these great things”. Cf. above, text to notes 81-82. Cf. above, note 40. Even the mention of Cicero at line 20 we have just discussed is best understood in the light of a text by Quintilian. I am referring to Quint. 12.1.16-17 (but cf. also Iuv. 8.236244; 10.114-126). If Cicero is indomitus according to Agamemnon, Quintilian mentions his neque spe neque metu declinatus animus and represents the great orator as a veritable vir bonus dicendi peritus (see the whole chapter 12.1). It should not escape us that, at the end of the technical and literary part of the poem, Agamemnon reintroduces an ethical theme that harks back to the choliambics, thus placing the seal of unity upon this metrically composite poem. According to Barnes 1971, 30 Agamemnon “cannot conceive of an educational system which would dispense with the ills of the one in vogue”. According to Ogrin 1983, 57 “il risultato al quale giunge non è la restaurazione della disciplina, bensì la raffigurazione della pratica”. Such is in fact the conclusion of Pellegrino 1986, 113 and 120, according to whom Agamemnon is the representative of a decay we can follow through those that denounce it: the elder Seneca, Quintilian, the Dialogus de oratoribus. Cf. note 42 for the association of the choliambics with Cic. Cael. 45-46; note 82 for Cicero’s oratorical exercises in Greek (Cic. Brut. 310); note 98 for the basic concept of the gradus in rhetorical education (Cic. Brut. 232); note 107 for the importance of written exercises (Cic. de orat. 2.90 and 96).

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) plicitly both in prose138 and in the poem, where he represents the highest model for the orator-to-be.139 Though stating that Cicero is the only source for the opening chapters of the Satyrica140 is no doubt an exaggeration, it is nevertheless assured that he has been kept in mind by Petronius – also in the capacity of expressive model – not only in Agamemnon’s, but in Encolpius’ speech as well.141 The opinion that “il modello al quale Agamennone si ispira è… quello proposto da Cicerone”142 is therefore justified, to a certain extent. It is necessary to add, however, that this Cicero is not the one of history, but rather the one the teachers of rhetoric of the I century A.D. had raised to the status of epitome and ideal of oratory.143 A decisive factor in evaluating the difference, if any, between Agamemnon’s and – say – Quintilian’s attitude concerning this point may be sought in an aspect we have deliberately left in the background in the preceding paragraph, owing to an extremely succinct formulation which makes it difficult to propose an unequivocal interpretation. I am referring to the attitude to philosophy as part of the orator’s education and training. According to Nelson144 Agamemnon agrees with Quintilian in regarding philosophy as useful for the orator-to-be, in that it can restore unity and harmony in his upbringing by obviating an unjustified but established dissociation in educational curricula. In the great teacher of the Flavian era145 we can easily grasp the idea that – according to him – philosophy has usurped an area which by right belonged to eloquence, while the latter has unduly given it up; if at present eloquence cannot do without philosophy, it is also true that the right of primogeniture belongs undoubtedly to the former. Nelson has been followed by Kissel146 and, with more attentive and more developed arguments, by Pellegrino,147 who believes the study of philosophy, both for Agamemnon and for Quintilian, to be 138

139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147

At Petr. 3.2 Agamemnon quotes Cic. Cael. 41 (ut ait Cicero ‘soli in scholis relinquentur’). According to Pellegrino 1968, 104-105 the quotation is reduced to a mere learned reminiscence. This Ciceronian reference is in fact detached from the original context and acquires a different meaning. The attempt of Pellegrino 1986, 119 to discover in Socratico… grege (5.15) a debased allusion to Cic. de orat. 1.42 philosophorum greges is less convincing. Cf. also above, note 65. Petr. 5.20, for which see above. As done by Schönberger 1939, 511. Cf. Petr. 2.6 (Encolpius) grandis et, ut ita dicam, pudica oratio ~ Cic. Brut. 203 grandis et, ut ita dicam, tragicus orator. So Ogrin 1983, 52 n. 25. This process is already apparent in the elder Seneca (contr. 1 pr. 6-7) and Velleius Paterculus (1.17.3) Nelson 1956, 209. Cf. Quint. 10.1.35, quoted by Nelson; but we can add the whole proem to the first book (especially 1 prooem. 10-20) and the whole chapter 22. Kissel 1978, 323. Pellegrino 1986, 116-119. 37

Chapter I reduced to a “semplice componente del cursus di studi prescritto all’aspirante oratore”.148 Even though the idea of the primordial unity of eloquence and philosophy on which Quintilian insists149 is undoubtedly Ciceronian,150 it is not difficult to realize that the Flavian rhetorician is far from assigning to philosophy the crucial importance it has for Cicero,151 which we hardly need to stress here. The conciseness of Agamemnon’s reference to philosophy makes it difficult to determine whether he allocates it the same ancillary function it has in Quintilian152 or is closer to Cicero’s authentic position. Yet, aside from Agamemnon’s traditional designation of philosophy through the turn Socratico… grege,153 even his few words may provide a spur for fruitful reflection. It must in the first place be emphasized that the adjective liber at the beginning of line 14 is linked by enjambment with the preceding mittat habenas, though not a few scholars prefer to relate it to the following quatiat, thus assuming the postposition (anastrophe) of the et that follows liber,154 even though there are no comparable instances in Petronius.155 It follows that the pupil can only be free after feeding his soul with the study of philosophy.156 148 149

150 151

152

153 154

155 156

38

Pellegrino 1986, 116-117, Also by referring to Cicero himself: Quint. 1 prooem. 13 (the reference is to the De oratore passages quoted in the following note). Quintilian (12.2.5) also refers to Cicero (de orat. 3.76, 107, 122-123) to reaffirm that the investigation of general (i.e. “philosophical”) principles pertains by right to eloquence. Cf. e.g. Cic. de orat. 3.57, 60, 72. Pellegrino 1986, 117-118 rightly remarks that Quintilian’s interest in philosophy is merely practical (a philosophical upbringing may be of help for the orator-to-be), while little or no room is allotted to pure and disinterested speculation. An emblematic passage for Quintilian’s posture on philosophy can be found at 12.11.17, where the philosophorum… opiniones are part of a list of utilia, together with those of the consulti and historical and rhetorical exempla. Cf. Schönberger 1935, 1243; Schönberger 1938, 222. Among the translators e.g. Heseltine 1913, 9; Walsh 1996, 4; also Kissel 1978, 323 n. 60. The majority of interpreters correctly refers liber to mittat habenas, but cases of ambiguity or vacillation are not lacking: Schönberger 1935, 1243 links liber with mittat habenas, but Schönberger 1939, 510 appears to refer it to quatiat. Ogrin 1983, 55-56 and n. 38 places a comma after liber, but self-contradictorily adopts Kissel’s interpretation. Pellegrino 1986, 118 also places a comma after liber, but on pp. 158-159 refers the adjective to quatiat. At any rate, he has the merit of stressing that this libertas is the result of the study of philosophy. As remarked also by Nelson 1956, 208-209 (but in connection with an unacceptable interpretation of line 19). Nelson 1956, 208-209 is completely mistaken when he takes the adjective to hint at the pupil’s independent attitude to philosophical sects (“ohne dogmatische Zwang”). More unconvincing interpretations have been proposed: Stubbe 1933, 66 paraphrases liber with generosior; Rimell 2002, 25, 81, 116, 182, 199 takes liber to mean “as a free man”.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) We have already remarked that this study, just like the reading of Homer mentioned in the preceding line, marks a propaedeutic stage which still prescinds from the active imitation and reproduction of the model. But, if only after having imbibed philosophy can the pupil gain free swing in eloquence, it will not be unwarranted to surmise that the former, though preceding the strictly technical teaching, amounts, in Agamemnon’s view, to the necessary basis for the attainment of eloquence, not merely another branch of instruction in the orator’s curriculum equal in rank with the other branches of the that is required of anyone who wishes to become an orator. If this is so, then Agamemnon is closer to the Dialogus de oratoribus than to Quintilian. In the Dialogus Messala tackles the problem in two whole chapters,157 in which, to be sure, Quintilian’s conception of philosophy’s practical usefulnss for the orator does make its appearance, but philosophy is also unambiguously declared to be eloquence’s indispensable foundation. A Ciceronian reference made by Tacitus’ Messala is emblematic. Quintilian, as we remarked in a footnote,158 quoted Cicero’s De oratore to assert that philosophy is only a branch of eloquence which has unduly separated itself; Tacitus, by contrast, quotes the famous statement in the Orator by which Cicero avows to owe his eloquence to philosophy rather than to rhetoric.159 In the Dialogus there is also an expression referring to philosophy which is very close to Agamemnon’s verse: pectus implerent160 reminds us of our poem’s formulation, Socratico plenus grege, implying, it seems to me, that Tacitus’ and Petronius’ characters share the same attitude. Both react to pure and strict technicality in the name of a more comprehensive education and of the “humanistic” ideal of founding the necessary specific competence upon a cultural basis of wider scope. The comparison with Agamemnon’s previous prose speech161 allows us to conclude that a philosophical preparation is an integral and indispensable complement to those laborum gradus which are often regrettably forgone owing to the shortsighted ambition of the parents (no doubt affecting the pupils too), who are only interested in a teaching conducive to immediate practical re-

157 158 159

160 161

Tac. dial. 31-32. Above, note 149. Tac. dial. 32.6 Cicero his, ut opinor, verbis refert, quicquid se in eloquentia effecerit, id se non rhetorum , sed Academiae spatiis consecutum. Cf. Cic. orat. 12. Quintilian too (12.2.23) quotes, among others, this Ciceronian passage, but in a context that vindicates for oratory the functions usurped by philosophy (cf. above, note 149). Tac. dial. 31.1 ut iis artibus pectus implerent, in quibus de bonis ac malis, de honesto et turpi, de iusto et iniusto disputatur; cf. 32.4 pectora implebat. Petr. 4.3 ut sapientiae praeceptis animum componerent.

39

Chapter I sults,162 thus causing the irremediable decay of eloquence. The closeness of Messala’s and Agamemnon’s ideas is by now apparent.163 But we must additionally notice that in the short reference our poem makes to philosophy three expressions succeed one another164 that appear to refer to the enthusiastic type of literary inspiration, an idea, at any rate, that can be made out in other parts of the poem as well.165 In this connection some scholars have upheld the presence of the stylistic theory of the sublime in all the first five chapters ,166 not merely in Agamemnon’s poem, while others believe the text to reflect Atticist or “classicist” positions.167 To determine the literary leaning prevailing in the opening chapters of the Satyrica – granting such an inquiry to be indeed warranted – falls definitely outside and beyond the scope of our study. There is, at any rate, a definite link between Agamemnon’s (and Eumolpus’ too)168 literary doctrine and what we find in the anonymous treatise On the sublime: a link scholars seem not to have remarked. Both Agamemnon and Eumolpus advocate, almost with the same words,169 an ideal literary writing in which the swing of enthusiastic inspiration is reconciled with a solid and uninterrupted connection with the great literary

162 163

164

165 166

167

168 169

40

By contrast, Agamemnon recommends not merely long poetical and philosophical studies, but also written exercises “removed from the forum” (v. 17). For further contacts between Petronius’ opening chapters and the orator’s ideal education sketched by Tacitus in dial. 30-36 see Collignon 1892, 95-98; Kissel 1978, 319 n. 39. Plenus; mittat habenas; liber. For this implication in plenus cf. Pellegrino 1986, 118, who quotes Hor. c. 2.19.6 plenoque Bacchi pectore; 3.25.1-2 quo me, Bacche, rapis tui / plenum? The reference to Hor. ars 337 omne supervacuum pleno de pectore manat is less convincing. Cf. plenus and defundes… verba at line 22; also mentis calorem in the choliambics (v. 7). Schönberger 1935, 1248; Schönberger 1938, 175-176 (he also understands in the same way grandis at 2.6; 4.3; 5.20; his interpretation of 4.3 verba atroci stilo effoderent – cf. also Schönberger 1938, 221 – is unacceptable). Alfonsi 1948 believes the first five chapters to follow the theories of Theodorus of Gadara, which were close to those of the ; Flores 1982, 69-70 agrees; cf. also Soverini 1985, 1717. According to Sage 1915 the text reflects Atticism; Nelson 1956, 217 prefers the term “classicism”; Kissel 1978, 315 sees a contrast not between Atticism and Asianism, but rather between artificiality and naturalness. See above: § 3, end. Cf. above, notes 69, 164, 165. In detail: 5.13 mittat habenas ~ 118.6 praecipitandus... spiritus; 5.14 liber ~ 118.6 liber; 5.21-22 flumine largo / plenus ~ 118.3 ingenti flumine litterarum inundata and 118.6 plenus litteris. In Eumolpus’ words there are more hints at enthusiastic inspiration: 118.6 furentis animi vaticinatio; 118.3 neque generosior spiritus sanitatem (adopting the reading given by LO) amat.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) tradition. It is remarkable that the teacher of rhetoric and the practicing poet170 concur on the need not to sever study and scholastic and technical preparation from a trend laying stress on enthusiastic inspiration. Clearly, both endeavor to save both ars and ingenium; and this is where they coincide with the position defended in the treatise On the sublime. There is more: the attempt at reconciling enthusiastic swing with a close link with the great classics is significantly parralleled in the same work, down to the employment of metaphors that closely resemble those we find in Petronius.171 It seems to me, then, that the pairing of Petronius and the literary trend represented for us by the author of the 172 can be justified with more punctual and cogent arguments than has hitherto been done.173 We must of course be aware of the fact that the literary doctrines we have recognized in Petronius’ text should be referred to the novel’s

170

171

172

173

It is hardly surprising that Eumolpus, the practicing poet, insists on enthusiastic inspiration more than Agamemnon (cf. preceding note). The latter, as a teacher, must lay more stress on the pupil’s moral and literary education. Cf. also above: § 3, end. For the image of the river and irrigation as a metaphor of the connection with literary tradition (Petr. 4.3 lectione severa irrigarentur; 5.21-22 flumine largo / plenus; 118.3 ingenti flumine litterarum inundata) cf. de subl. 13.3 . As far as enthusiastic inspiration is concerned, the references in the are almost countless; we can quote, at any rate, de subl. 15.4 ! (cf. Petr. 5.13 mittat habenas); 32. 1 and 32.4 !" !" # ! (cf. Petr. 118.6 praecipitandus… spiritus); 13.2 $ % & !" (cf. Petr. 118.6 furentis animi vaticinatio). If, as we have argued above (note 164) plenus implies an enthusiastic connotation, in flumine largo / plenus (5.21-22) and plenus litteris (118.6) the ecstatic fervor of inspiration is directly connected with the link with literary tradition, just like at de subl. 13.2 !" (cf. spiritus)… ! ! ! ' ! ( ! ! ! ! ) !* (cf. spiritus) !" ! + ! We may add that the choliambics which open the poem have much in common with the complaint we find in the about moral decay as the cause of the decline of literature (de subl. 44.6-12). Scholars have debated whether the grandis oratio which is Agamemnon’s ideal (4.3; 5.20), as well as Encolpius’ (2.6), should be taken as a technical reference to the genus grande or, as I had rather believe, in a more general sense. The first alternative is preferred by Schönberger 1929, 1199; Schönberger 1938, 221; Sullivan 1968, 164. According to Sage 1915, 50 it is what Petronius regards as the true grandis oratio, not the one thus defined by the rhetoricians. For Nelson 1956, 201 both Encolpius and Agamemnon oppose the true genus grande to the false one advocated by the moderns. Cf. also Tandoi 1965, 322-325. According to Alfonsi 1948, 48 the reference is to “sublime” eloquence. See also Kissel 1978, 313. 41

Chapter I characters only, not to the author; it is nevertheless significant that Agamemnon the rhetorician and Eumolpus the poet move on substantially common ground. 6. I will now discuss a few particular problems raised by our poem which have not been tackled in the previous pages.174 V. 1. ambit] The manuscript tradition is all but unanimous in offering amat,175 which is rejected by nearly everyone because of the meter, which requires a long first syllable.176 The only acceptable correction is ambit,177 a verb which is attested, followed by an accusative denoting the object of the ambition, in the meaning of “to aspire to”, since Plautus and down to late Latin.178 It is hardly possible to accept hamat,179 though it was adopted by Burman180 and has been defended even in recent times.181 Only for completeness’ sake shall I mention Stubbe’s conjecture navat,182 which has been accepted by Nelson.183 V. 3. frugalitatis lege poliat exacta] Poliat is a correction by Heinsius, which has been generally accepted against the transmitted readings polleat and palleat. It is useless to correct exacta to exactae, as already proposed by Gon174

175 176

177

178

179 180 181

182 183

42

The text of our poem is one of the parts of the Satyrica that most have prompted conjectures and corrections (cf. above, note 113). It is no exaggeration to say that sometimes it has been downright rewritten. Cf. e.g. Mössler 1891, 723-726. See Bücheler 1862, ad loc.; Cugusi 1967, 87; and the detailed discussion in Pellegrino 1986, 144-147. Amat is accepted by Bücheler 1862, 7 (as already González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 92). Marmorale 1948, 292 also preserves amat (he is influenced by his late dating of the Satyrica, and believes Petronius not to perceive syllable quantity any more). Barnes 1971, 13 expresses no preference between amat and ambit. Kissel 1978, 321 n. 4 believes all proposed corrections to be unsatisfactory. Ambit appears in the margin of the editio Tornaesiana and has been accepted in Bücheler’s editions later than his first one of 1862, and by most subsequent editors. This reading was at first rejected by Müller 1957, 504; but he changed his mind since his first edition (Müller 1961). Ambit is favored also by Tandoi 1968, 77; Flores 1982, 68; Pellegrino 1986, 144-147. TLL I 1850, 46-67 registers Plaut. Amph. 69 sive qui ambissit palmam histrionis; 74 quasi magistratum sibi alterive ambiverit; then our Petronian passage, followed by numerous late instances. Attested by the manuscripts E (Messanensis deperditus) and l (margin). Burman 1743, I, 27-28. See Brugnoli 1963, 257-259 (he refers to 3.4 nisi tamquam piscator… imposuerit hamis escam; but in the poem, contrary to what Brugnoli says on p. 259, the subject is not the teacher of rhetoric, as at 3.4, but the aspiring orator); also Cugusi 1967, 87 (see the convincing refutation of Tandoi 1968, 77). Cf. Nelson 1956, 203. Hamat is still defended by Schnur 1992, 170. Stubbe 1933, 156. Nelson 1956, 202.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) zález de Salas184 (with a reference to Sen. brev. 18.4 frugalitatis exactae homines), and recently by Müller, in the apparatus.185 V. 4. Nec curet alto regiam trucem vultu] Some interpreters refer alto… vultu to regiam.186 In this case it would be a useless duplicate of trucem. These words must of course be taken with nec curet,187 as demonstrated beyond doubt by an exact Horatian parallel.188 V. 5: cliensque] The all but unanimously transmitted reading has been needlessly corrected to cliensve.189 The ideas connected by the conjunction are not mutually incompatible, but rather linked with each other.190 V. 7. in scaenam] Heinsius’ correction of the transmitted in scaena (scena) is necessary and accepted by nearly everybody.191 It is however rejected by Burman192 and Sommariva.193 V. 8: histrioniae addictus] The manuscripts are unanimous in transmitting addictus, whereas the preceding word varies greatly in the tradition: histrionis, histriones, histrion , histrionei, histrioni, histrioniae are attested.194 The last form195 offers a satisfactory meaning: “enslaved (or ‘addicted’) to theatrical 184 185 186

187

188 189 190 191

192 193 194 195

Ap. Burman 1743, II, 93. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 14; Müller 1995, 4. E.g. Heseltine 1913, 7: “nor must he care for the lofty frown of the tyrant’s palace”; Ernout 1923, 4: “qu’il dédaigne le palais insolent au front altier”; Walsh 1970, 85: “he should disregard the harsh palace with its naughty air”; Walsh 1996, 3: “let him not aspire to insolent palace with its lofty stare”. As done, for example, by Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 3: “a viso aperto sfidi la reggia truce”; Canali 1990, 23: “a fronte alta non si curi della torva reggia”; Aragosti 1995, 140: “trascuri a fronte alta l’arroganza di palazzo”; Reverdito 1995, 7: “sdegni con viso aperto”; Scarsi 1996, 7: “a fronte alta”. Hor. c. 4.9.42-43 reiecit alto dona nocentium / voltu (already quoted by Schönberger 1939, 509). By Bücheler 1862, 8, followed by many editors; also by Nelson 1956, 7; Flores 1982, 68); but not by Müller (besides his editions, cf. Müller 1957, 504). Rightly Pellegrino 1986, 147. As remarked by Pellegrino 1986, 150, in scaena governed by sedeat should mean in theatro – which is nowhere documented. In scaenam is obviously governed by redemptus (“paid in view of the theatrical performance”, to act as claque). Burman 1743, I, 30. Sommariva 1996, 59 n. 16. Cf. the critical apparatuses, especially those of Bücheler 1862 and Müller 1961; besides, Nelson 1956, 203. As remarked by Nelson 1956, 203, histrioniae also lurks behind histrionei, which can be explained as a wrong transcription of histrionie, that is histrioniae. 43

Chapter I art”.196 The term histrionia poses no problems;197 as far as the iunctura is concerned,198 the idea of being enslaved to the theater and its representatives is exactly paralleled in Petronius’ contemporary Seneca.199 An intervention in the text destroying the reference to a well-attested social phenomenon of the time seems to me to be a priori unlikely. Nevertheless, Ribbeck’s conjecture histrionis ad rictus is adopted by the majority of editors and scholars.200 One of the main arguments of those who favor the correction is the repetition of addictus, which already appears in line 6.201 This, however, can hardly carry conviction, in view of the numerous repetitions, which scholars have not failed to point out, and may be said to be a veritable stylistic mark of this poem,202 and, as we shall see, also of other poems in the Satyrica. This being so, the repetition of the same word should be taken as a proof that the transmitted text is correct, rather than the other way around.203 Another argument deserves more careful consideration. I am referring to Müller’s remark204 calling attention to the fact that in Petronius’ preserved verses a cretic, or a word ending in a cretic, is never elided, as it happens here, if we take histrioniae to be the correct reading. This cannot be lightly dismissed. The weight carried by this observation, however, appears to be more than bal196 197 198 199 200

201 202

203

204

44

It is hardly necessary to remind of the rhetoricians’ stern criticisms against fanatic addiction to theater and actors: cf. e.g. Tac. dial. 29.3; Quint. 1.12.18; 12.1.6. See the occurrences registered in TLL VI 2846, 77-79 (Plaut., Sen. Rhet., Macr.). We may refer to Fronto, p. 141, 16 v. d. H. histrioni studiosus, where the correction is all but certain. Sen. ep. 47.12 ostendam nobilissimos iuvenes mancipia pantomimorum. So all of Bücheler’s editions later than the first one (1862), and all of Müller’s. Histrionis ad rictus is also adopted by Heseltine 1913, 9; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 5; Schönberger 1939, 509; Schönberger 1940, 624; Walsh 1970, 85; Walsh 1996, 3; Kissel 1978, 321 n. 52. Ogrin 1983, 47 transcribes Ernout’s text (histrioniae addictus), accepts later histrionis ad rictus (p. 48 n. 8), and then translates “asservito all’arte teatrale” (p. 50). Histrioniae addictus is accepted by Burman 1743, I, 30; Bücheler 1862, 8; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 3; Nelson 1956, 202; Ciaffi 19672, 74; Pellegrino 1975, 49; Pellegrino 1986, 70; Aragosti 1995, 140; Reverdito 1995, 7; Scarsi 1996, 7. Ernout 1923, 4 has histrioniae addictus in the text, but supposes histrionis ad rictus in the translation (“prodiguer des bravos aux grimaces d’un histrion”); the same in Yeh 2007, 512. Other, less successful conjectures are histrionis ad nutus (Anton) and histrionis ad dicta (Bücheler 1862, 8, in the apparatus, where ad picta is surely a misprint). See e.g. Sommariva 1996, 59 n. 16. Besides addictus at lines 6 and 8, cf. mentem / mentis (vv. 2 and 7); trucem / truci (vv. 4 and 19); det / det / dent (vv. 11, 17 and 19); pectore (vv. 12 and 22); plenus (vv. 13 and 22); sono / sonet (vv. 16 and 18); verba (vv. 20 and 22). Cf. already Collignon 1892, 230; then Sullivan 1968, 191. Or, at least, it should reinforce Burman’s judicious remark about this passage (Burman 1743, I, 30): “si vero toties medica manus esset adhibenda quoties eadem vox parvo intervallo recurrat apud auctores, excedet, credo, medicina modum”. Müller 1957, 504.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) anced if we consider the implausibility of an intervention doing away with a perfectly fitting parallel with Seneca and an allusion to a well-documented and widespread social phenomenon of the time.205 Vv. 9-11. Sed sive armigerae… Sirenumque domus] In my opinion, the correct interpretation is found already in Burman’s commentary.206 He sees in these lines allusions to Athens, Taranto, and Naples, in this order, and has been followed by several scholars.207 Among the numerous different interpretations208 one that insistently keeps coming back is the identification of the Lacedaemonio tellus habitata colono with Sparta.209 The supporters of this way to understand these words must of course take the colonus to be not a “colonist” (Taranto was in fact Sparta’s colony), but rather a “farmer” in his own country.210 This semantic connotation is undoubtedly anything but foreign to the term colonus; but a look at the influence of this line’s formulation in subsequent literature suffices to assure beyond doubt that what the ancient reader saw in it was a hint at a colonist in a far-off land. We are led to this conclusion by two poetical texts whose conspicuous linguistic parallels suggest a derivation from our Petronian line – or, in case the first one were proved to be authentic, we might regard it as 205

206 207

208

209

210

At ant rate, even if we accept histrionis ad rictus, the reference cannot be to the theatrical mask, as asserted by Schönberger 1939, 509. Aside from the fact that in mime no masks were used, the plural ad rictus should refer to the shifting expressions of a real face. Rictus appears in the singular in Petr. 55.6.1. Burman 1743, I, 31. Bücheler 1862, 8; Collignon 1892, 234; later Müller 1957, 504; Kissel 1978, 322; Aragosti 1995, 141 n. 9; Reverdito 1995, 270 nn. 10-12. A detailed discussion in Pellegrino 1986, 151-154, whose conclusion, however, is a non liquet. Cf. also Pellegrino 1975, 221-222. Codoñer 1990, 67 believes the places alluded to to symbolize politics, jurisprudence, and poetry respectively. Some of which are manifestly groundless. Schönberger 1935, 1242-1243 places the first location too in southern Italy, referring to Sen. ep. 77.2; he is followed in this by Nelson 1956, 205, who takes the second location to be Sparta. The second location is identified with Rhodes by Paratore 1933, II, 22-23, who thinks the third location to be Sicily. Sicily is taken into account also by Nelson 1956, 206 (with an extension to all of southern Italy), Barnes 1971, 16 (who also sees a general allusion to the Greek islands), and Codoñer 1990, 67. Cf. e.g. Heseltine 1913, 9; Nelson 1956, 205; Walsh 1970, 86 (but Walsh 1996, 3 seems to have changed his mind: see following note); Barnes 1971, 16; Ogrin 1983, 55 (in the frame of a questionable interpretation, which identifies Troy as the first place mentioned: p. 54). Heseltine 1913, 9 renders colonus with “farmer”; Nelson 1965, 205 quotes Verg. ecl. 9.4 veteres migrate coloni. All the scholars mentioned in the preceding note understand colonus as “farmer”; but Walsh 1996, 3 translates (correctly in my opinion), “the Spartan immigrant”, thus changing his previous interpretation. The supporters of the interpretation of colonus as “farmer” could have quoted a text quite close to Petronius’: Sil. 7.160 tellus mentita colono. 45

Chapter I Petronius’ model. I am referring to the opening line of the second epigram attributed to Seneca,211 whose overall structure is parallel to, and whose second part is perfectly identical with, Petronius’ verse; and to a passage of Silius Italicus,212 where not only do we find a similar construction in the same position at the end of the verse, but at the beginning of the following line tellus is preceded by adridet, obviously echoing Petronius’ rident. In this second text the term colonus partially preserves the semantic connotation of “farmer” (cf. sulcata), but that of “colonist” is no doubt prevalent, in that Silius hints at the Trojan immigrants who settled in Latium; as for Seneca’s (or Ps. Seneca’s) text, the allusion to the Phocaean colonists who settled in Corsica is apparent. These parallels prove that in Petronius too the reference is to Sparta’s colony, i.e. Taranto. Burman already remarked that Sparta, whose fame was most of all associated with military power, would be out of place in a list of locations fit for studious leisure.213 By contrast, Athens, Taranto, and Naples214 perfectly become the idea manifestly expressed in the context: Athens was in fact the city of election for those who wished to pursue higher studies; and Taranto and Naples were a traditional buen retiro for Roman intellectuals.215 That Taranto, not Sparta, is meant is also confirmed by the clear echo of the lines describing that city in a famous Horatian ode;216 and elsewhere Horace refers the same epithet as Petronius – Lacedaemonius – to the same city.217 So Agamemnon opposes the educational voyage to Greece (Athens), favored by many Roman intellectuals, to the studious quiet in peaceful towns of southern Italy.218 This being so, the correction of the unanimously transmitted Sirenumque to Sirenumve is needless and misleading, though it has been ac211 212 213 214

215

216

217 218

46

[Sen.] epigr. 2.1 Corsica, Phocaico tellus habitata colono. Sil. 9.203-204 seu Laurens tibi, Sigeo sulcata colono / adridet tellus. Burman 1743, I, 31. Naples was the place where the Siren Parthenope was buried, and some reefs located not far away, near the Sorrento peninsula, were traditionally identified with the Sirens’ abode. Athens is denoted through an allusion to the Acropolis, which was sacred to Athena. Suffice it to remind that Taranto was the ideal place of retirement for Horace (c. 2.6.1020; epist. 1.7.45; cf. also Sen. tranq. 2.13); and Virgil spent many years at Naples. The two cities are mentioned together as places fit for retirement by Sen. ep. 68.5 ille Tarentum se abdidit, ille Neapoli inclusus est. The idea that locations far away from Rome’s hustle and bustle were favorable to study was traditional: see the texts collected by Schönberger 1935, 1248; Schönberger 1938, 221-222; Schönberger 1939, 510; Barnes 1971, 33 n. 4. Hor. c. 2.6.13-14 ille terrarum mihi praeter omnis / angulus ridet is picked up by rident in line 9 of our poem. The interpretation of Plaza 2000, 56-58 is barely worth mentioning. She sees in rident of the first hexameter an opposition to the last choliambic, where she reads histrionis ad rictus with no discussion at all. Hor. c. 3.5.56. So, rightly, Kissel 1978, 322.

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) cepted by some editors.219 The second and third location, in fact, amount to the two faces (connected through -que) of a single unit, which is opposed as a whole to the place mentioned first, sive and seu marking the only real alternative: Greece on the one hand, southern Italy on the other.220 Vv. 15-16. Romana manus circumfluat et modo Graio / exonerata sono mutet suffusa saporem] The express reference of our text to the student of rhetoric rather than to the accomplished orator that we have previously illustrated rules peremptorily out the interpretation of those who see in the Romana manus an audience made up of quick and kicking Romans surrounding the orators who speak in the forum.221 It is obvious that Agamemnon is thinking of the Roman literary models,222 to which the pupils must now turn, after studying the Greek ones. From the linguistic point of view this is confirmed by clear parallels in Quintilian, who employs both manus and the verb circumfluo223 in reference to literary models and resources.224 The words that follow have caused many problems to the interpreters, not a few of whom regard the text as irremediably corrupt from this point on.225 In my opinion this attitude is hardly justified; and rather than reporting and discussing 219

220

221

222

223 224 225

Since Bücheler 1862, 8. Later, all of Müller’s editions (though Müller 1957, 504 doubted the need to correct -que to -ve both here and at v. 5); Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 5; Aragosti 1995, 140; also Schönberger 1935, 1243; Nelson 1956, 202. Sirenumque is preserved by Ernout 1923, 4; Pellegrino 1986, 154; Reverdito 1995, 7; Scarsi 1996, 7; also Kissel 1978, 322 n. 55. It is therefore needless (and misleading) to defend the tradition by reminding that -que may at times assume the meaning of -ve, as done by Müller 1957, 504 and Pellegrino 1986, 154. The enclitic must receive disjunctive meaning only if we assume that the two first locations are opposed to the third (this is in fact the reason adduced by Nelson 1956, 220 n. 20 to justify his correction of -que to -ve: he opposes Athens and Sparta to southern Italy), or at any rate that the second is opposed to the third. This interpretation is old: cf. already Palmerius ap. Burman 1743, I, 34: “Romani homines coronam faciant” (also correcting circumfluat to circumstruat). Later it was picked up by Schönberger 1935, 1243 (though he had the public listening to rhetorical declamations in mind); Fuchs 1938, 174 n. 34. More recently it is somehow surprising to find it in Müller-Ehlers 1983, 15: “nun sei er mitten im Treiben von Rom”. As already correctly understood by Burman 1743, I, 34: “debet intelligi de scriptoribus Latinis”; later, among others, Scheidweiler 1922, 1052; Nelson 1956, 209-211; Kissel 1978, 324 and n. 61; Pellegrino 1986, 159-160. Circumfluat continues the metaphor pervading the whole context: 4.3 irrigarentur; 5.12 bibat; 5.16 suffusa; 5.21 flumine largo. Cf. 118.3 ingenti flumine litterarum inundata. Quint. 10.1.76 sequitur oratorum ingens manus; 12.10.78 circumfluentibus undique eloquentiae copiis. These passages are already quoted by Collignon 1892, 231. Cf. above, note 113, for the remarks of Burman, Bücheler, and Müller. Similar comments reappear in several of the scholars who have studied our text. Among editors, Pellegrino 1986, 70, places the whole v. 16 between cruces. Müller in all his editions and Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 5 do the same with the word exonerata. 47

Chapter I all the corrections and interpretations (the former often whimsical, the latter often far-fetched and questionable) of lines 15-20, I will try a linguistic illustration of the controversial points, which I hope will provide a satisfactory explanation of Petronius’ meaning, which in my opinion is far from being so obscure as is often assumed.226 The word that seems to have posed the greatest problems is exonerata.227 If the Romana manus is to be identified with the great Roman writers whom the orator-to-be takes as his models, some have found it difficult to understand why it should be said to be “free from Greek sound”.228 This approach, however, ignores an important signal offered by the text: the adverb modo.229 Who has “recently” got rid of the Graius sonus is in reality the pupil, who up to then had fed himself on Greek models, following the didactic method previously illustrated. The passage is a natural and easy one, inasmuch as the models in the two languages are regarded as parts of the curriculum proposed by the teacher of rhetoric: to a certain extent, then, it is the subject of study itself that, due to the change of language, gets rid of the old sound. It is a figure of speech no more daring than the shifting of the oratorical swing from the pupil to his written page in line 17. Both the passive moment of the pupil’s exposition to the models and the active stage which brings about the production of his own writings are illustrated in reference to the literary text: on the one hand the new (modo) models proposed by the teacher get rid of the Greek sound, and, by fusing and mixing with the results of the pupil’s previous preparation, change his stylistic “flavor”; on the other hand his pagina – the new writings he will produce – will now be able to launch into free swing. In both cases the real protagonist that gets rid of 226 227

228

229

48

For dent epulas (v. 19) I refer to what already remarked in § 4 (and notes 113, 119, 120). I will only mention, as a specimen, a few corrections: Scheidweiler 1922, 1053: vox onerata (accepted by Stubbe 1933, 156 and Schönberger 1935, 1243); Fuchs 1938, 173: vox ornata; Müller 1961, 6 (in the apparatus): vox operata (accepted by Courtney 1970, 65; cf. also Schnur 1992, 170); Harrison 2003, 128: vox imbuta. Some accept the reading exornata of the manuscript R: so Burman 1743, I, 34 (in the commentary), followed by Kissel 1978, 324 n. 62. On this reading see Pellegrino 1986, 160. Concerning the questionable interpretations we have hinted at, cf. e.g. Nelson 1956, 210 (who takes both exonerata and subducta to have an active meaning: he is rightly refuted by Müller 1957, 504; Pellegrino 1986, 160-161); Barnes 1971, 17 (exonerata is regarded as a neuter plural and as the object of mutet, together with suffusa, which governs saporem); Pellegrino 1986, 161 (exonerata as a neuter plural governed by mutet, and correction of saporem to sapore). I will quote one for all: Pellegrino1986, 160: “dal momento che ci si libera solo di qualcosa che si ha con sé, non si capisce che senso abbia dire questo degli autori latini in relazione al sonus Graecus”. Which as a consequence is not rarely omitted in translations (e.g. Ernout 1923, 5; Canali 1990, 23; Reverdito 1995, 7; Scarsi 1997, 9).

The Education of the Orator (Petr. 5) the old sound and tries himself in literary production is the young aspirant to eloquence. V. 17. det pagina cursum] From what we have just said and from the interpretation proposed in § 4230 it follows that in my opinion these words mean “let it dash, or rush” as in a race;231 but not a few scholars interpret “let it give the thrust”,232 obviously in the frame of the interpretation we have shown to be inacceptable: the one that only takes into account reading, rules out writing exercises on the part of the pupil, and sees in the pagina the works of the models, not the pupil’s own writing. But, even aside from this, a clear Virgilian parallel confirms the interpretation we have proposed.233 It is irrelevant to observe234 that in Virgil the dative equo must be supplied (Mezentius flings himself in the midst of the enemies on horseback). It is in fact probable, or at least possible, that Petronius may be using the Virgilian image to formulate his literary metaphor. But this in turn is only continuing mittat habens (v. 13); we can therefore be certain that, like there (v. 13), so here too (v. 17) the pupil is actively springing up of his own accord rather than receiving the thrust from outside. Nor can it be any other way, since, as we have seen, he is not merely reading, but also trying himself in written composition. V. 22. defundes] The correctness of this reading235 is guaranteed by a poetic parallel in Petronius himself.236

230 231

232

233 234 235 236

Above, note 110. This is also the interpretation of TLL V 1, 1686, 61-62, though secondarily it does not rule out the other interpretation we mention in the text. The interpretation proposed here is also shared by Heseltine 1913, 9; Ernout 1923, 5; Aragosti 1995, 140; Reverdito 1995, 7; Scarsi 1996, 9. So Stubbe 1933, 156 (he refers to Verg. georg.1.40 da facilem cursum); Friedrich 1935, 496; Müller-Ehlers 1983, 15 (“soll er sich... der Lektüre befleißen”); Pellegrino 1986, 162 (“sono queste letture [pagina] a conferire vim orandi… al giovane studente”). Verg. Aen. 10.870 cursum in medios rapidus dedit. This parallel is already pointed out by Schönberger 1929, 1200. As done by Pellegrino 1986, 162. Defundes appears in the margin of l (and apparently was in E). The most authoritative tradition has diffundes. Cf. Nelson 1956, 203. Petr. 121.102 defudit pectore voces. 49

Chapter II Justice for Sale (Petr. 14.2)* Quid faciunt leges, ubi sola pecunia regnat aut ubi paupertas vincere nulla potest? Ipsi qui Cynica traducunt tempora pera non numquam nummis vendere verba solent. Ergo iudicium nihil est nisi publica merces, atque eques in causa qui sedet, empta probat.

5

L(= ldmrtp)O(=BRP) Voss.(=Leidensis Vossianus Latinus F 111) 1-2, 5 5-6 Ioh. Sarisb. Pol. 5.15 1 faciunt ldmrtvlO Voss.: faciant tp Samb. Scaliger 2 nulla lmgdmrtRP : nuda ltvlB Voss. 3 pera Heinsius: cera 4 vendere vera solent Voss.: verba solent emere O 5 ergo LO: iam nunc

1. The first problem posed by the three elegiac couplets at Petr. 14.2 concerns their exact position. Nearly all editors place them after Ascyltos’ prose speech at the beginning of the chapter: the verse would then be its conclusion and, so to speak, the universalization of the idea which, in the prose, only concerns the particular situation narrated in the context. In fact, scholars generally take it for granted that this poem is uttered by Ascyltos, even though he nowhere else speaks in verse.1 In reality, however, this arrangement is the result of a transposition carried out by Bücheler in his 1862 edition of Petronius. Bücheler followed a suggestion made by K.G. Anton in his 1781 Leipzig edition, and was in turn followed by the overwhelming majority of editors and scholars.2 In the manuscript tradition * 1 2

A version of this chapter has appeared with the title La poesia in Petr. Sat. 14.2, “Prometheus” 24, 1998, 152-160. Cf. Stöcker 1969, 146-147; Aragosti 1979, 108; Slater 1990a, 163 (who expressly remarks that “nowhere else does Ascyltos speak in verse”). See the deatiled treatment in Sommariva 1997, 8-9.

Chapter II (L) the verse appears before Ascyltos’ speech, immediately after the end of what is now chapter 13. It must be added that the Florilegia tradition ( ) transmits three lines of our poem3 followed by the last words of Ascyltos’ speech. The reasons which prompted this transposition are clear, and seemingly justified: as our poem is an attack against the justices’ and the courts’ corruption, it appears to be in agreement with Ascyltos’ mistrust of justice more than with Encolpius’ intention to resort to the law in order to recover the lost tunic in whose hems a small treasure has been hidden.4 Nevertheless, the arguments put forward by Pellegrino, the one recent editor who keeps the traditional order, assuming of course that some parts of the text have been lost, cannot be easily dismissed.5 This being so, it is difficult, in my opinion, to award full confidence to the generally accepted transposition, even though it must be admitted that it is quite attractive. Stöcker,6 though ascribing the poem to Ascyltus, remarks that it might equally well be explained as a comment to the situation7 made by the narrator Encolpius or by the author himself. What is certain is that the theme of the omnipotence of money connects it with other poetic compositions on the same subject, which are presented as general reflections, even though sparked by particular narrative situations.8 Our poem, however, differs from those which develop the same theme in that it specifically targets the greed of the representatives of justice.9 Just like the

3

4 5

6 7 8

9

52

Lines 1-2 and 5 of the poem, followed by Ascyltos’ slightly adapted words tutius est parvo aere rem perditam recuperare quam in ambiguam litem descendere (14.1). Cf. Hamacher 1975, 126. In O and in Voss. (Leidensis Vossianus Latinus F 111) the poem is transmitted with no context. See lastly Sommariva 1997, 21-24, who concludes accepting the transposition. See Pellegrino 1975, 231-232; Pellegrino 1986, 28-29 (L offers the correct reading at line 4; if it had misplaced the poem because it has taken it from O, which offers no context, it would probably have picked up O’s wrong reading too; Ascyltos seems to be more concerned with his and Encolpius’ lack of social relations than with the corruption of justice). Cèbe 1966, 314 attributes the poem to Encolpius, seemingly rejecting the transposition (but it is only a slip, as he lends to Encolpius the rejection of a lawsuit); cf. also Jensson 2004, 9, 223. Slater 1990a, 163 attributes the poem to Ascyltos, while remarking that nowhere else does he speak in verse, adding that we cannot be sure “whether these lines are his own or another’s”. Barnes 1971, 276 states that 14.2 explains 14.1 and naturally leads to what follows, with no intimation that what is now 14.2 precedes 14.1 in the manuscript tradition. Stöcker 1969, 146 n. 1. The verse is regarded as such a comment by Sullivan 1968, 189. I am thinking in particular of Eumolpus’ poem at 83.10 (for whose “universal” import see ch. X) and of the verse at 137.9 (see ch. XXII). See Stöcker 1969, 146-151; also Fröhlke 1977, 70; Yeh 2007, 508. Debray 1919, 61-70 offers a detailed analysis of all the juridical implications of the scene in the forum (Petr. 12-15), but with no specific reference to our poem.

Justice for Sale (Petr. 14.2) more general topic of the omnipotence of money, this particular instance too had become commonplace in literature, no doubt after the pattern of what happened in reality.10 A great number of Latin writers pitilessly describe the corruption and greed of all the groups anyone involved in a lawsuit had to deal with – justices, lawyers, witnesses –, often with expressions close to Petronius’.11 Petronius insists on the greed of the first and the last of the groups now mentioned (justices and witnesses), but naturally supposes a general corruption of justice.12 An unexpected detail, which allows the author to widen the target of his polemic, can be spotted in his choice of the Cynic philosophers to represent the group of corrupt witnesses. This is not always duly stressed, partly owing to the existence of another reading – vendere vera13 –, which is accepted by several scholars,14 partly because sometimes verba is wrongly taken to refer to the philosophers’ teaching activity, in the meaning of “lessons” imparted for money.15 But the parallels in Martial, Seneca, and especially Ovid and Juvenal we just quoted in a footnote make it all but certain that what is meant here is bought and sold testimony16 – an interpretation which is the only one in accordance with the poem’s general context, where laws, lawsuits and courts feature prominently. 10 11

12 13

14

15 16

Cf. already Burman 1743, I, 67-68; more recently Stubbe 1933, 157; Kelly 1966, 31 ff. Justices: Varro Men. 499 Astbury; Cic. Cluent. 102; Att. 1.18.3. Lawyers: Mart. 5.17.6 sollicitis… vendere verba reis; Sen. Herc. fur. 173-175 clamosi rabiosa fori / iurgia vendens improbus iras / et verba locat; Tac. ann. 11.5.2 nec quicquam publicae mercis tam venale fuit quam advocatorum perfidia. Witnesses: Iuv. 14.218-219 falsus erit testis, vendet periuria summa / exigua. Justices and lawyers: Mart. 2.13. Justices, lawyers, witnesses: Ov. am. 1.10.37-40 non bene conducti vendunt periuria testes; / non bene selecti iudicis arca patet. / Turpe reos empta miseros defendere lingua; / quod faciat magnas turpe tribunal opes. The final stage is reached with Plin. ep. 2.14.4, from whom we gather that even the claque for young lawyers had to be bought with money. Witnesses are alluded to at line 4 (vendere verba), justices at line 6 (empta probat); but see below, note 53. Attested by the Leidensis Vossianus Latinus F 111. Sommariva 1990a, 28 convincingly argues in favor of verba and against vera. O offers verba solent emere, plausibly explained by Courtney 1991, 17 with the assumption that vendere disappeared because of the homoearchon with the following verba, with a subsequent integration (emere) based on empta (v. 6). E.g. by Bücheler 1862; Ernout 1923; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950. Cf. also Heseltine 1913; Aragosti 1979, 108 n. 18; Aragosti 1995, 158; Canali 1990, 30. It must be remarked that some, though writing verba in the text, translate as if they had accepted vera: Reverdito 1995, 16-17; Scarsi 1996, 14-15. So Barnes 1971, 275-276; Slater 1990a, 163 n. 12; cf. also Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 27: “nimmt... für den Vortrag bares Geld”. Lastly Sommariva 1997, 26. Cf. above, note 11. This interpretation is also accepted by Courtney 1991, 17; Walsh 1996, 10: “perjure themselves at times for sordid gains”. See also Sommariva 1990a, 27-28; Sommariva 1997, 15-16, 20, though she does not rule out that in vendere verba a reference to an unlawful activity as patronus may also be implied. 53

Chapter II The Cynic philosophers did not enjoy good reputation in Petronius’ time. The extremism of their nonconformist attitudes had caused from the very beginning the criticism implied in the very name of the movement; the Latin language, in which its connection with the word for “dog” is not immediately apparent, allows Martial to play with the concurrent pairing and opposition of Cynicus and canis,17 in an epigram which already implies that the outward attitude and appearance does not suffice to make a real Cynic. The theme is developed by Epictetus, who opposes the idealized figure of the real Cynic to the lowliness of the so-called Cynics of his own time, one of whose most characteristic marks was an insatiable beggarly greed.18 But the author who most pitilessly unmasks the hypocrisy of the contemporary Cynics’ attitudes is Lucian, who describes them as gluttonous, lascivious, deceitful, and – above all – greeedy, in total opposition to the principles they flaunted.19 This background helps us realize that Petronius’ Cynic, ready as he is to perjure himself in the courts of justice, is anything but an unlikely figure. It is not by chance, however, that he has chosen to describe in such a desecrating way precisely those philosophers who had always flaunted poverty as a proud symbol of freedom: for Petronius’ time we may mention the Cynic philosopher Demetrius, whom Seneca describes with the highest admiration.20 We have already remarked that this poem shares with others the theme of the omnipotence of money. It may even be regarded as complementary to one of these: the first poem uttered by Eumolpus at 83.10. In this poem all the traditionally recognized ways of life aim at the one and only goal of making money; , to the triumph each life choice is reduced to a universal and worship of wealth all men bow to, thus causing the poet, whose vocation prevents him from joining the common trend, to be marginalized and actually be regarded as an outcast.21 The two poems’ similarity and complementarity is emphasized even from the formal point of view, through the close correspondence of the verse at 14.2 with the immediate prose context of 83.10: in both places

17 18

19

20 21

54

Mart. 4.53.7-8 esse putas Cynicum deceptus imagine ficta: / non est hic Cynicus, Cosme; quid ergo? canis. See Epictetus’ whole diss. 3.22: mark in particular the reference to the false Cynic’s “big jaws” ( : § 50). Unlike Epictetus, who opposes this to the idealized real Cynic, Petronius makes no such distinction; for him all Cynics (actually, all philosophers) are “false”, in that they hypocritically seek what they ostensibly despise. See especially Lucian’s Fugitivi, where Philosophy itself laments being injured by them. More attacks can be found in the De morte Peregrini and in the Symposium, where the contemporary representatives of all philosophical schools are mocked. Cf. e.g. Paratore 1933, II, 43. Already Mössler 1891, 729 believed that Petronius meant to criticize Demetrius. Cf. also McMahon 1997. For this interpretation of 83.10 see ch. X.

Justice for Sale (Petr. 14.2) money is described as men’s one goal and one value.22 If even (ipsi) the representatives of Cynicism, which of all philosophies was the most outspokenly opposed to social rules and conventions, bow to greed , which in the meantime has become the rule and principle of society, it is clear that even what had once been the has been swallowed up by the , like all other traditional mentioned by Eumolpus at 83.10. The reader who remembers the verse at 14.2 understands why at 83.10 Eumolpus follows Horace in placing the ideal of a life devoted to poetry instead of the at the summit of the Priamel: the elegiac couplets of 14.2 make it clear that the philosopher’s life is subject to greed no less than the other , which means that it cannot be opposed to them any more; this leaves poetry as the one vocation free from greed and compromises with what contemporary society has accepted as its sole guiding principle and goal – in spite of all the material inconveniences it entails. That, unlike poetry, philosophy can lower itself to the point of becoming a hypocritical front aiming to attain the material advantages poetry does neither offer nor seek, is confirmed shortly after by Eumolpus himself, when he recounts how he got his way with the youth of Pergamum by putting on the mask of the philosopher.23 Only a life devoted to poetry is an end to itself; philosophy, like all other , is subservient to material goals. 2. V. 1. Quid faciunt leges] O, , the Leidensis Vossianus Latinus F 111, and the majority of the L witnesses read faciunt, whereas the reading faciant found in some Renaissance editions is much less authoritatively attested.24 Nevertheless, it is preferred by several scholars,25 though the parallels adduced for the construction quid faciant… ubi hardly carry conviction. The correct reading is no

22

23

24 25

Petr. 14.2.1 sola pecunia regnat ~ 84.2 solas extruere divitias curant. The affinity of the two poems was grasped by the compiler of the manuscript Leidensis Vossianus Latinus F 111, which records the two poems one after the other (fol. 38: cf. Peiper 1886, XXVII). Petr. 85.2 ut me mater praecipue tamquam unum ex philosophis intueretur. It is hardly surprising that a no-nonsense character like Trimalchio wishes this inscription to be engraved on his tomb: nec umquam philosophum audivit (71.12). For traditional support and reception of faciunt and faciant cf. Sommariva 1997, 9-10. Cf. e.g. Burman 1743, I; Ernout 1923; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950; Aragosti 1979, 108 n. 18; Slater 1990a, 163; Canali 1990; Reverdito 1995; Scarsi 1996. Heseltine 1913 writes faciant in the text, but translates as he had accepted faciunt: “of what avail are laws…”. The parallels adduced are Val. Max. 5.3 ext. 2 quid aliae faciant urbes, ubi etiam illa…?; and Petronius himself (107.10): quid debent laesi facere, ubi rei ad poenam confugiant? It should not escape us, however, that in these instances facere denotes an action performed by a subject which is opposed to others that “do”, or “should do”, less. Cf. also Catull. 66.47 quid facient crines, cum ferro talia cedant? In our text, by contrast, it is clear that facere means “to be of avail” and ubi sola pecunia regnat does not describe the same action performed, or to be performed, to a lesser degree. 55

Chapter II doubt quid faciunt.26 The verb has the meaning of prodesse, borrowed from the technical language of medicine, where it applies to healing substances “being “effective” or “being of avail”;27 This employment is rather common in Silver Latin.28 Our line means, then: “to what avail are laws29 where only money is king?” V. 2. paupertas vincere nulla potest] Nuda given by the Leidensis Vossianus Latinus F 111 is surely wrong.30 We are surely faced with the colloquial use of nullus in lieu of non, which appears several times in comedy and in Cicero’s letters, and in isolated instances in Catullus and the Augustan poets.31 By contrast, it is rather rare in Silver Latin, and therefore it is all the more significant to encounter it in this poem. By this device Petronius probably meant to bestow a tone of directness and closeness to reality to the narrative situation described. V. 3. Ipsi qui Cynica traducunt tempora pera] Pera is the obvious correction, due to Heinsius, of cera, given by the majority of witnesses.32 We hardly need to call attention to the innumerable texts in which a satchel (pera) is attributed to the Cynic; it may be of interest that even wanderers like Encolpius and Ascyltus have one.33 The key to a correct understanding of this line lies rather in the alliterating words traducunt tempora. Many scholars34 take this expression to mean “they spend time”, or “their life”.35 But Gronovius already saw a much

26 27 28

29

30 31 32 33 34

35

56

Accepted by Müller 1961; Müller-Ehlers 1983; Müller 1995; Courtney 1991, 17; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995; Aragosti 1995; Walsh 1996 (“what point have laws”). Cf. TLL VI 1, 122, 12 ff. See the instances collected by Citroni 1975, 197-198, especially Quint. 10.7.4 quid porro multus stilus et adsidua lectio et longa studiorum aetas facit, si manet eadem quae fuit incipientibus difficultas? Rightly Courtney 1991, 17: “what good are laws?”. Sommariva 1997, 13 suggests quid faciunt to mean “what is the fate” of laws in a society ruled by greed? But the very parallel she shrewdly points out (Hor. c. 3.24.35-36 quid leges sine moribus / vanae proficiunt: p. 11) rather favors the interpretation we have accepted, as Sommariva herself realizes. Though it is accepted by Mössler 1891, 728, who places a question mark at the end of the first and the second line. Cf. Löfstedt 1933, II, 370-371; Leumann-Hofmann-Szantyr 1965, 205; Hofmann 1980, 208-209. Another reading is cena, adopted by Burman. Cf. Mössler 1891, 729. Petr. 11.4. Cf. Sommariva 1997, 26. Among others Ernout 1923; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983; Canali 1990; Slater 1990a, 163; Aragosti 1995, 159; Reverdito 1995, 17; Scarsi 1996, 15; Sommariva 1997, 14 and n. 22. It is possible that the reading cena has interfered here: the “satchel” would contain the Cynic’s poor food (“qui vilissimis cibariis se sustentat, more Cynicorum”: Burman 1743, I, 68).

Justice for Sale (Petr. 14.2) more pregnant meaning in the verb: the Cynics’ critical attitude to their times, symbolized precisely by the satchel in which they carried their humble belongings.36 This interpretation37 is no doubt the correct one. It is true that tempora may refer to the time of one’s life,38 but the meaning of “times”, “epoch” is very common for this word in the plural;39 and – most important – in Petronius traduco almost invariably means “to treat with contempt or derision”, and thus “defile” or “abuse”.40 In this context traducunt tempora opposes the Cynics’ hypocritical reproof of contemporary customs to their practical behavior: after ostensibly condemning their contemporaries’ greed, they are not above selling their testimony for money in the courts of justice. Criticism of the times is only a pretense on the part of philosophers, which Petronius means to expose. The meaning upheld by others (“spend their time”) is duller and more hackneyed, besides being linguistically less probable. V. 4. vendere verba] Cf. above (text to notes 13-16) for text and interpretation. Notice the marked alliterations in this line. V. 5 Ergo] This reading is found in LO ( has iam nunc).41 It is confirmed by a quotation of this line in Iulianus Toletanus.42 iudicium] The meaning of this term (“lawsuit”, “court action” – more generally “justice” –, as understood by most interpreters, or “sentence”, “verdict”43)

36 37 38 39 40

41 42 43

Cf. Burman 1743, I, 68: “infamant, culpant, allatrant et convitia faciunt suis temporibus, ostentatione frugalitatis”. Accepted by Heseltine 1913; Courtney 1991; Walsh 1996. This meaning is also found in a poetic fragment attributed to Petronius (fr. 33.12, 14 Müller); and see OLD s.v. tempus 4b. Cf. OLD s.v. tempus 4a, where this meaning, that we believe to be the correct one, is also assigned to tempora in our Petronian passage. See also s.v. tempus 12. Petr. 17.9 neve traducere velitis… secreta; 87.4; 126.6 scaenae ostentatione traductus; 132.10 traduceres annos primo florentes vigore; perhaps also 41.6 poemata domini sui acutissima voce traduxit (Trimalchio’s already awful poems are made even worse by the reciter’s shrill voice: “sviolinò poesie del suo padrone”: Canali 1996; in the same way some Virgilian verses are ruined too: 68.4-5). The only different meaning is found at 121.118 (Bellum civile), where the verb describes Charon’s bark ferrying the souls across the infernal waters. Sommariva 1997, 14 n. 22 believes the abstract object (tempora) and the instrumental ablative (Cynica… pera) to rule out the meaning of traduco we have accepted, but is refuted by the passages quoted at the beginning of this note. Cf. Hamacher 1975, 126. GL VIII, p. CCXXXIV 3 Keil. As interpreted by Debray 1919, 167: “judicium, mot qui prend ici évidemment, par la qualification de publica merces que l’auter lui donne, le sens de jugement”. 57

Chapter II depends on the sense we attribute to publica merces at the end of the line. See immediately below. publica merces] Most interpreters44 believe merces to be the equivalent of merx in this passage: a well-attested meaning.45 This interpretation is seemingly supported by a Tacitus passage we have already quoted; but it should not escape us that there merx, not merces is employed.46 It is not necessary, however, to assume that in Petronius merces does not keep its more common meaning of “reward”: the judge pronounces a verdict favoring those who bribed him as a reward for the money received.47 It is certainly attractive to assume that Petronius may have willingly expressed himself in an ambiguous fashion: justice would be a good that anyone can purchase, for the very reason that a favorable verdict may be accorded to anyone who can afford to pay for it (for this reason justice is a publica merces). We are not forced, however, to believe that merces has taken on the primary meaning of merx (“good”, “merchandise”). By contrast, the wellknown conservatism of juridical language rather leads us to believe that Petronius may be echoing a specific and already existing technical formula,48 even though, at the state of our knowledge, it does not appear until much later, in a decree by Diocletian and Maximianus.49 In this decree the term merces is applied precisely to the rulings pronounced by corrupt judges to favor those who bribed them, “as a reward” (in mercedem) for money received. Petronius’ ex-

44

45 46

47

48

49

58

E.g. Burman 1743, I, 69; Bücheler 1862, 15; Heseltine 1913; Ernout 1923; CesareoTerzaghi 1950; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983; Canali 1990; Courtney 1991, 17; Aragosti 1995; Reverdito 1995; Scarsi 1996; Sommariva 1997, 17-18. Cf. TLL VIII 2, 797, 82-798, 12. Tac. ann. 11.5.2 nec quicquam publicae mercis tam venale fuit quam advocatorum perfidia (cf. above, note 11). Sommariva 1997, 17-18 arbitrarily declares Tacitus’ and Petronius’ expressions to be identical: “l’espressione publica merces… è attestata… soltanto in un altro autore latino (Tac. ann. 11, 5, 1-3)…; Tacito usa la medesima espressione petroniana publica merx…”. She goes on to say that both are drawing on the same topos. The use of merces in the meaning of “praemium operarum illicitarum” is common: see TLL VIII 2, 795, 24-56, and cf. Aragosti 1979, 109 n. 22. Slater 1990a, 163 renders publica merces with “public salary”, but rather inconsistently translates iudicium with “trial” For the numerous juridical elements in the episode of the forum, besides Debray 1919, 61-70 (cf. above, note 9), see Aragosti 1979, 107-109 (n. 22 for the juridical expressions in our poem). Cod. Iust. 7.64.7 venales sententias, quae in mercedem a corruptis iudicibus proferuntur.

Justice for Sale (Petr. 14.2) pression should probably be interpreted in the light of this parallel; therefore, in our poem, iudicium is primarily the verdict pronounced by the judge.50 V. 6. eques] The equites were the class that provided the majority of the members of courts of law in the first century of the empire,51 even though the removal of senators from the functions of justices ever since the beginning of the principate is no longer considered to be so well established as Mommsen believed.52 empta probat] “Makes the purchases legal”, “does nothing but legalize the market”.53

50

51 52

53

For this meaning of iudicum see TLL VII 2, 607, 62-74. Among the many possible instances we might quote Serv. ad Aen. 6.743 ut si quis dicat ‘iudicium patimur’ et significet ea quae in iudicio continentur. See Jones 1972, 89. Mommsen 1887, 535; but see Sherwin-White 1966, 309 (ad Plin. ep. 4.29.2). As remarked by Aragosti 1979, 109 the verse at 14.2 emphasizes the corruption of justice portrayed in the prose context and extends the criticism to both civil and criminal procedure. So, respectively, Canali 1990 (“legalizza gli acquisti”) and Scarsi 1996 (“non fa che legalizzare il mercato”). See lastly Sommariva 1997, 19. Not only is the judge personally corrupt; he sanctions the general corruption of justice. For empta cf. Cic. Att. 1.18.3; Ov. am. 1.10.39. 59

Chapter III Two Views of Success (Petr. 15.9; 18.6)* 15.9

Nolo quod cupio statim tenere nec victoria mi placet parata

L(=lmrtp) 2 placet michi

18.6

Contemni turpe est, legem donare superbum: hoc amo, quod possum qua libet ire via. Nam sane et sapiens contemptus iurgia nectit, et qui non iugulat victor abire solet.

L(=lmrtp)O(=BRP) 3 nectit E(Messanensis deperditus)tmg: flectit ceteri, defendit Petrone: plectit i. nectit Samb. 4 at Scheidweiler, Tandoi iurgat Scheidweiler, Nisbet victus Nisbet dolet Heinsius(‘in vet. cod.’ Boschii), Burman

1. In the two Phalaecean hendecasyllables at 15.9 and in the two elegiac couplets at 18.6 the speaking character takes the cue from the particular situation being narrated to express, in general terms, his idea of success and the ways to make it most desirable. The first person singular appears in both texts, but in the first one it merely refers to the speaker’s preference, whereas in the second it is accompanied by sentences which, in the speaker’s intention, should be universally valid, and at any rate impart the short poem a gnomic tone. The two lines of 15.9 follow the forum episode, in which Encolpius and Ascyltos, who had come to sell a cloak they had apparently stolen, unexpectedly recover a tunic they had lost, as it can be evinced from some hints that have survived in the text as we have it. In it some gold coins had been concealed, which,

Chapter III as it seems,1 are still in place. Our heroes come back to their abode in high spirits, and at this point the two Phalaecean hendecasyllables occur. There is nothing in the tradition to make us think that something has been lost between these lines and the preceding prose, which should suggest the verse to be a comment attributable to the narrating voice – Encolpius –, as is often the case with the Satyrica’s poetic inserts, in which, like here, the first person singular is frequently found.2 Not a few scholars, in fact, ascribe these lines to Encolpius.3 In Italy, however, a strong influence has been exerted by the opinion of Paratore,4 who, without any solid argument, assigned them to Ascyltos. The scholars who follow him, however, behave inconsistently, inasmuch as they do not mark a lacuna before the verse. We have seen that no lacuna is signaled in the manuscript tradition; but it would be necessary, if we are to assume that there was a caption in the text ascribing these lines to Ascyltos.5 As the suspicions of those who think them to be out of place seem groundless,6 they must then be allocated with certainty to Encolpius. * 1

2 3

4 5

6

62

A version of this chapter will appear in “Prometheus” with the title Due concezioni del successo (Petr. Sat. 15.9, 18.6). Many scholars have seen in the parenthesis at 15.8 et recepto, ut putabamus, thesauro, and even in the one that appears in Ascyltos’ previous words (13.3 illa est tunicula adhuc, ut apparet, intactis aureis plena) the foreshadowing of a future disappointment caused by the gold coins’ either not being there or going to be immediately lost again. Cf. e.g. Ciaffi 1955, 37; Van Thiel 1971, 30 and n. 2, with the bibliography (though Van Thiel does not rule out that the coins might actually be there); Aragosti 1979, 113-114 and n. 30; Slater 1990a, 36 n. 25; Plaza 2000, 70; Courtney 2001, 64-65; Patimo 2001, 193. The forum episode, which leads to the recovery of the tunic, is examined in detail by Focardi 1986; Patimo 2001; Patimo 2002. E.g. Petr. 79.8; 132.8; 132.15; 136.6; 139.2. E.g. Ernout 1923, 12, who in the translation places a colon at the end of the words preceding the verse (the same is done by Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 12-13); Barnes 1971, 311 n. 29 (doubtfully); Slater 1990a, 183; Patimo 2001, 193 n. 73. Paratore 1933, II, 47: “i due versetti… vanno riferiti evidentemente (!) ad Ascilto che si vanta della sua presenza di spirito, col solito tono parodisticamente esagerato”. Cf. Pellegrino 1975, 234 (no mark of a lacuna before the two lines: p. 5); Pellegrino 1986, 195 (no mark of a lacuna in the text: p. 79); Scarsi 1996, 18 and n. 1. Walsh 1996, 11, 160, is at least more consistent; he expresses no opinion concerning the speaker of these lines, and proposes to transpose them before chapter 11, in view of the topos they develop, which has predominantly erotic implications (see below, notes 12-14); in the translation he poses a colon at the end of the words preceding the hendecasyllables. Already González de Salas, ap. Burman 1743, II, 101, 181 joined these lines with those at 93.2; but though the topos is the same, the application is different: the contempt for the victoria… parata is not easily reconciled with that for ordinary fare, even though the scope of the poem at 93.2 widens at the end (see ch.VI). Something similar is also found in Burman 1743, I, 77. Bücheler 1862, 17 remarks in the apparatus: “hos versus… non haesisse credo superioribus”, without any further explanation. For Walsh 1996, 11, 160 see preceding note.

Two Views of Success (Petr. 15.9; 18.6) In my opinion this is the only poem transmitted by Petronius’ direct tradition to be surely incomplete.7 Several witnesses of the L tradition, which, with the Florilegia ( ), is the only one transmitting these two lines, place a mark of lacuna after them.8 It is true that according to some scholars these marks deserve no credit and nothing has been lost between the second hendecasyllable and the prose that follows.9 But even if we assume that nothing has disappeared in the prose, our two lines give the reader the impression that he is faced with the mere beginning of a poem, in which the theme is stated, but is followed by no development. I am not the only one to believe that the development has been lost.10 Our two lines, in fact, state, but do not develop, a widespread topos of ancient literature: the scant value of anything that is acquired with no strife, patience, and toil. The image of the effortless victory probably originates in reference to sports races and competitions.11 In Hellenistic, and Latin, poetry it often receives an erotic slant, in order to depreciate lawful love or too easy amorous conquests.12 The fountainhead of this attitude can be recognized in a well-known epigram by Callimachus13 which strongly influenced the subsequent poetic tradi-

7 8

9

10 11

12 13

Neither Petr. 128.6 (cf. ch. XV) nor 136. 6 (cf. ch. XXI) are incomplete. Neither is any other poem transmitted with the prose of the Satyrica. More precisely, one or more asterisks appear in p (Pithou’s two editions), in t (the editio Tornaesiana), and in l (the cod. Leidensis Scaligeranus 61), which also has the words desunt multa in the margin. So Cosci in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 45, followed by Aragosti in Aragosti-CosciCotrozzi 1988, 1, 14 n. 1; Aragosti 1995, 162-163 n. 34. By doing so, Aragosti contradicts what he had upheld in Aragosti 1979, 113-114 and n. 30, where, as we saw (above, note 1), he maintained that the parenthesis ut putabamus at 15.8 foreshadows a future disappointment, which, of course, had to be described in a lost portion of the text (Aragosti rightly refuses to see a hint at this in our very hendecasyllables, against Sage 1969, ad loc.). Plaza 2000, 70 makes it clear that, if ut putabamus refers to Encolpius’ and Ascyltos’ disappointment, then this denouement has undoubtedly been lost. Cf. eg. Courtney 1991, 18: “the rest of the poem has been cut out by the excerptor”. Cf. Otto 1890, 290, s.v. pulvis (2), who quotes Hor. epist. 48-50 (quis circum pagos et circum compita pugnax / magna coronari contemnat Olympia, cui spes / cui sit condicio dulcis sine pulvere palmae?) and the corresponding Greek turn . Two Christian writers employ the sports image in a similar way, to stress that there is no victory without fight: Ambros. ep. 10.73.29 nulla enim sine adversario corona victoriae; Hieron. ep. 14.10 nemo athleta sine sudoribus coronatur. The Greek expression was already metaphorically applied to war, as was later done at Rome, as we shall see: cf. e.g. Thuc. 4.73.2; Demosth. 18.200. In Xen. Agesil. 6.3 it still applies to sport, but a sport likened to war. As we have seen (above, note 5) Walsh 1996, 160 suggests transposing our lines before chapter 11, because he believes the topos they formulate to have erotic implications. Callim. epigr. 31 Pfeiffer (AP 12.102) / / ! " # / ‘ $ ’ % / & ! 63

Chapter III tion. Horace clearly alludes to it in a satire, and the theme reappears several times in the same erotic application in the Latin love poets, from Ovid down to Ausonius.14 But the erotic application was not the only one. In Petronius himself the topos reappears later in reference to food: simple and common fare is depreciated in comparison with what is rare and expensive. The theme is introduced in prose,15 and then developed in a poem16 which, in the last lines, expands the particular application to conclude with a more general statement: quicquid quaeritur optimum videtur.17 In our hendecasyllables what is depreciated and rejected is the victoria… parata. The metaphor might originate in the area of sport,18 but the parallel with a text of Livy leads me to believe that in our Petronian lines, where the topos appears to be universalized to define a veritable life choice, we should rather recognize a metaphor drawn from warfare.19 This text of Livy’s was first pointed out by Burman and later referred to by Stubbe,20 but neither remarked that, though the historian is talking about war,

14

15 16 17

18 19

20

64

" ! / ' ! ! ( % Hor. sat. 1.2.105-108 ‘leporem venator ut alta / in nive sectatur, positum sic tangere nolit’ / cantat, et apponit ‘meus est amor huic similis ; nam / transvolat in medio posita et fugientia captat’; Ov. am. 2.19.3 quod licet ingratum est, quod non licet acrius urit; ars 3.473-474 mora semper amantes / incitat; 579 quod datur e facili longum male nutrit amorem; Mart. 4.38.1 satiatur amor nisi gaudia torquent; Auson. epigr. 22.1 hanc amo, quae me odit, contra hanc, quae me amat, odi; 56.1 hanc volo, quae non vult; illam quae vult, ego nolo; etc. Petr. 93. 1 vile est quod licet, et animus errore lentus iniurias diligit. Petr. 93.2. Cf. ch. VI. Petr. 93.2.10 (at vv. 8-9 we also find the common application: amica vincit / uxorem). We have seen (above, note 6) that González de Salas went as far as joining our lines with those of 92.3. The two poems are paired by Habermehl 2006, 248 too. Cf. Ambros. ep. 10.73.29 corona victoriae, quoted above (note 11). A military application of this image originating in sports competitions is in Gell. 5.6.21 impulverea, ut dici solet, incruentaque victoria obvenit (cf. the Greek usage: above, note 11). A passage in Tryphiod. 134 ! ! , containing an expression similar to Petronius’ (cf. victoria… parata), also belongs in the field of war (the speaker is Ulysses, and the victory is the Greeks’ over the Trojans). In Petronius, of course, the reference to war is only metaphorical. Liv. 5.6.1 si medius fidius ad hoc bellum nihil pertineret, ad disciplinam certe militiae plurimum intererat insuescere militem non solum parata victoria frui, sed etiam si res lentior sit, 2 pati taedium et quamvis serae spei exitum exspectare et si non aestate perfectum bellum, hiemem opperiri nec sicut aestivas aves statim autumno tecta et recessum circumspicere. 3 Obsecro vos, venandi studium ac voluptas homines per nives ac pruinas in montes silvasque rapit: belli necessitatibus eam patientiam non adhibebimus quam vel lusus vel voluptas elicere solent?… 7 An mediocre discrimen opinionis secuturum ex hac re putatis, utrum tandem finitimi populum Romanum eum esse putent cuius si qua urbs primum illum brevissimi temporis sustinuerit impetum, nihil deinde timeat, 8 an hic sit terror nominis nostri ut exercitum Romanum non taedium longin-

Two Views of Success (Petr. 15.9; 18.6) there can be no doubt that the way he expresses himself supposes Callimachus’ epigram on love,21 and, more important, that Livy mistrusts any soldier who seeks only a parata victoria – an expression that can be easily paired with Petronius’ victoria… parata – and states that wars are not won by storm (impetu), but rather with persistence (perseverantia): an idea that is very close to what we find in Petronius’ first hendecasyllable. I believe, then, that our poem is employing a metaphor drawn from the military application of the topos in order to bestow universal validity to the idea that, in any field, what is promptly and easily attained does not amount to a real success.22 2. The two elegiac couplets at 18.6 are no doubt uttered by Quartilla.23 There is no explicit caption to mark the transition from her prose speech to the verse, but this is often the case. 24 The poem is actually intended to round off the speech she began in prose, as though aiming to illustrate and justify, through a conception of success expressed by resorting to gnomic sentences of supposedly universal import, her decision not to give up her claim to redress, if Encolpius and Ascyltos had not been willing to offer it of their own accord – which does not rule out a show of generosity, once her goal has been reached.25 There is nothing, then, to make us think that anything has been lost before the verse,26 though

21 22

23 24

25

26

quae oppugnationis, non vis hiemis ab urbe circumsessa semel amovere possit, nec finem ullum alium quam victoriam noverit, nec impetu potius bella quam perseverantia gerat? Cf. Burman 1743, I, 77; Stubbe 1933, 157. Both refer to hunting and employ very similar expressions (Liv. in montes ~ Callim. ; Liv. per nives ac pruinas ~ Callim. ! )% The idea keeps resurfacing down to the end of antiquity. Cf. e.g. Cassiod. var. 9.24.10 diutius quidem differendo pro te cunctorum vota lassavimus, ut et benivolentiam in te probaremus generalitatis et cunctis desiderabilior advenires. Habet enim hoc humana condicio, ut celerius adepta fastidio sint, dum omne pretiosum vilescit oblatum et contra dulcius accipitur, quod sub aliqua dilatione praestatur. Their attribution to Encolpius in Sullivan 1968, 194 and n. 1 is probably a slip. Cf. Barnes 1971, 284 n. 7. E.g. Petr. 14.2 (if this poem’s transposition is correct: see ch. II); 15.9; 79.8; 80.9; 82.5 (though this poem has no context); 83.10; 126.18; 127.9; 131.8; 132.15; 135.8; 137.9; 139.2 (no context). This is acknowledged by the numerous editors who place the quotation mark closing Quartilla’s speech at the end of the poem (the quotation mark opening her speech being in the prose at 18.5: ‘facio’ inquit ‘indutias vobiscum… Cf. e.g. Bücheler 1862, 20, and his later editions; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 12; Müller 1961, 17, and his later editions. Also Aragosti 1995, 168; Reverdito 1995, 22; Scarsi 1996, 20-22. Cf. also Slater 1990a, 162: “she (Quartilla) has delivered her set speech to persuade the two and caps it with verse”. This is not ruled out by Cosci, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 63 and Sommariva 1990b, 78 n. 1. 65

Chapter III very probably something has been lost after it.27 As for the text, I believe the one found in most authoritative editions to be satisfactory.28 The only real problem appears at line 3, where nectit, at any rate, seems to be a better reading than flectit, given by the majority of the tradition.29 Some proposed corrections have been mentioned in the apparatus, but in my opinion should not be accepted.30 A detailed account of the textual problems may be found in Sommariva’s excellent essay, which is also the most in-depth inquiry into Quartilla’s poem to date.31 Sommariva starts by stressing its gnomic character, in that Petronius’ priestess is trying to draw universal rules of conduct from the specific situation in which she is acting32 (we should add that Quartilla is thus trying to define her idea of success); Sommariva then strives to explain the epigram by regarding it as an instance of a pattern she defines “of the happy medium”, in which two contrasting alternatives are discarded in favor of a third, intermediate one.33 Sommariva’s interpretation had been anticipated, to a certain extent, by some of the earliest modern interpreters of Petronius, such as González de Salas and Burman.34 According to Sommariva the two contrasting terms that are rejected in view of the happy medium are not primarily those pointed out in the first line, i.e. the acceptance of the others’ contempt (contemni) on the one hand and the 27

28 29

30

31 32

33 34

66

After the poem l and t mark a lacuna; the former also has desunt in the margin. According to Van Thiel 1971, 12, 33, the poem at 18.6 was originally followed by 19.2. He believes the whole passage 18.7-19.1 to have been wrongly placed by L after the poem. At line 2 qua libet must of course be written as two separate words: cf. Sommariva 1990b, 79. Cf. Ov. am. 2.9.45 iurgia nectat, already pointed out by Sambucus (cf. Burman 1743, I, 90); also Ov. am. 2.2.35; and see TLL VII 2, s.v. iurgium, 666, 4-6. Petrone 1993-1994, 98-99 defends flectit by quoting several texts, the most fitting being Petr. 58.1 flexit convicium in puerum. In our poem, however, there is no hint at anyone to whom the iurgia would be addressed. At line 4 et is corrected to at by Scheidweiler 1922, 1056 and Tandoi 1992b, 647; iurgia to iurgat by Scheidweiler 1922, 1056 and Nisbet 1962, 230; victor to victus by Nisbet 1962, 230; and solet to dolet by Heinsius (on the authority of a lost manuscript used by Bosch). Sommariva 1990b. Sommariva 1990b, 78. The poem’s gnomic character is also stressed by Paratore 1933, II, 56; Cosci, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 63; Petrone 1993-1994, 98; Yeh 2007, 506. Barnes 1971, 277 is not unjustfied in applying the terms “obscurity” and “sententiousness” to this poem. Yeh 2007, 506 opines that the poem is held together more by alliteration than by logical links. Burman 1743, I, 89 already remarked: “varie hoc epigramma exercuit eruditos”. This pattern had already been discovered in some of Martial’s epigrams by Citroni 1975, 191-192 (on Mart. 1.57). González de Salas, ap. Burman 1743, II, 107: “medium vero inter utrumque [i.e. between contemni and legem donare] viam tenere ipsam (= Quartillam) discupere”; Burman 1743, I, 89: “servandam, docet Quartilla, esse mediocritatem”. Sommariva 1990b, 79-82 does not miss these precedents.

Two Views of Success (Petr. 15.9; 18.6) behavior described by legem donare on the other. In her opinion, rather, the latter behavior is opposed to iurgia nectit (line 3). At this point we must emphasize that Sommariva is surely right in her interpretation of legem donare superbum as meaning: “to forgo law (i.e. to renounce legal action and the redress that can be obtained that way) is a sin of pride”.35 Burman thought that the sin of pride consisted in believing not to be in need of the law,36 and we shall soon see that, in my opinion, he has grasped an essential point of this poem. We can further agree with Sommariva when she rejects Burman’s interpretation according to which Quartilla approves of both the behaviors she implies (to react to contempt or give up legal action), with the provision of choosing one according to circumstances.37 I would specify, however, that what Quartilla rejects, besides legem donare, is not reaction to, but rather passive endurance of, other people’s contempt. When this is understood it seems incontrovertible to me that both attitudes sketched in the first line are rejected: both turpe and su35

36

37

For this meaning of donare (cf. “to condone”) see TLL V 1, s.v. dono, 2014, 57-74, where our Petronian passage is listed too. Petronius’ expression was correctly understood by Burman 1743, I, 89: “remittere actionem lege datam”; Mössler 1891, 729; Scheidweiler 1922, 1055-1056; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 35: “verzeihn” (sic); Courtney 1991, 18: “to give up one’s legal right”; Aragosti 1995, 169: “praticare l’indulgenza”; Reverdito 1995, 23: “perdonare”; Petrone 1993-1994, 97: “concedere indulgenza”. Nevertheless, not a few scholars prefer to understand “impose (one’s own) law”: González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 107 (who pairs legem donare with 25.3 legem… accipere); Heseltine 1913, 27; Ernout 1923, 15; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 12; Ciaffi 19672, 94; Canali 1990, 39; Cicu 1992a, 19; Scarsi 1996, 23; Bracht BranhamKinney 1997, 16; Yeh 2007, 506. As for superbum, many scholars, including some who correctly understand legem donare, regard it erroneously as signifying “beautiful”, “splendid”, “wonderful”: e.g. Heseltine 1913, 27; Scheidweiler 1922, 1056; Ernout 1923, 15; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 12; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 35; Cosci, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 63-64 (as Cosci takes legem donare as meaning a constituta lite dimittere, the meaning of superbum must be positive); Courtney 1991, 18; Cicu 1992a, 19 (“Quartilla… ama imporre la sua legge”); Petrone 1993-1994, 97 (“con la grandezza dei vincitori”); Tandoi 1992b, 646 (“Quartilla rinunzia volentieri a valersi della legge”); Aragosti 1995, 169; Reverdito 1995, 23; Scarsi 1996, 23; Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 16; Yeh 2007, 506. In my opinion, though, the meaning of superbum we have accepted in the text is incontrovertible: cf. OLD s.v. 2a (which includes our Petronian passage), and the parallel at Petr. 30.10-11 superbus ille sustulit vultum et… inquit… ‘dono vobis eum’. Burman 1743, I, 89: “neque etiam ita inciviliter nos efferre debere, ut inferioribus ita superbe et arroganter gratiam faciamus delictorum, quasi lege nobis non opus esset, quae unicuique civi remedium praestat contra iniuriam”. Cf. Mössler 1891, 729: “qui poenam lege irrogatam remittit, legem despicatui habere videatur”. Burman 1743, I, 89: according to him, line 2 implies that Quartilla “dicit se probare viam utramque, et pro re nata posse vel intendere actionem et litem, vel remittere”. Sommariva 1990b, 81-82 rejects this interpretation, inasmuch as it cannot be reconciled with the pattern of the happy medium. 67

Chapter III perbum are words that, in different ways, emphasize rejection. But can we really be sure that these two behaviors are unconditionally opposite and incompatible? We shall soon answer this question. At line 2 Sommariva, following Tandoi,38 detaches quod possum from the preceding amo, and takes these words to be a restrictive parenthesis meaning “as far as I can”. Amo would then govern the infinitive ire: “I take pleasure in treading (in the sense of ‘I am used to tread’) the path I like, as far as I can”. Quartilla would describe her usual behavior,39 the one she follows as long as she can, i.e. clemency, which is the happy medium between iurgia nectere and legem donare.40 Sommariva believes the preceding prose to confirm her interpretation: Quartilla first takes pity on the culprits’ young age,41 then envisages their punishment.42 In the verse she would state – according to Sommariva – that her clemency is not abolished, but certainly limited, by the respect she owes to the law. Se likes to tread the path she prefers – clemency – but only insofar as it is permitted by the law. The pivot around which Sommariva’s exegetical approach revolves – it is clearly to be seen – is her interpretation of quod possum as a restrictive parenthesis independent from the preceding amo. It is certainly true that the Thesaurus linguae Latinae only records three instances, including this Petronian passage, of amo governing a quod clause;43 but what both Tandoi and Sommariva have failed to remark is that in Petronius quod is preceded by the demonstrative hoc, which is surely governed by amo and can hardly be detached from the following quod, which it surely anticipates.44 The fact that there are only a few instances of amo governing a quod clause is irrelevant in view of the fact that hoc is the object of amo and anticipates the following quod.45 Quod possum, then, is governed by amo, and governs, in turn, the infinitive ire. These two words, far from being idle, as some believe,46 are meant to stress Quartilla’s unhindered 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

45

46

68

Tandoi 1992b, 646. This is a posthumous writing that Sommariva was able to see before publication; cf. Sommariva 1990b, 82-83. Cf. Gr. . For amo followed by the infinitive in this meaning cf. TLL I, s.v. amo, 1956, 35-59. Sommariva 1990b, 83-84. Petr. 17.6. Petr. 18.5. TLL I, s.v. amo, 1956, 32-34; the two other instances are Lucan. 8.78 ipsum quod sum victus ama; Sidon. epist. 2.10.1 amo in te quod litteras amas. Notice that also in Lucan’s text quoted in the preceding note quod is preceded by the demonstrative ipsum. For quod used epexegetically with a demonstrative see KühnerStegmann 1971, 270-271; for hoc… quod Leumann-Hofmann-Szantyr 1965, 574. Cf. OLD s.v. quod 2a. Among the various examples that could be quoted, I select one which appears to be close to our Petronian passage: Hor. sat. 1.6.62-63 magnum hoc ego duco / quod placui tibi. Quod possum is not translated, e.g., by Reverdito 1995, 23 and Yeh 2007, 506.

Two Views of Success (Petr. 15.9; 18.6) freedom,47 not the limits the law imposes to her leaning toward clemency, as Sommariva would have it. Does Quartilla, by declaring her total and unhindered freedom, mean to oppose herself to someone who, in her opinion, does not enjoy equal freedom? The answer may be sought in the following line, where – at first glance unexpectedly – the figure of the wise man, the mythical sapiens, suddenly appears. According to Sommariva48 the sapientia here advocated by Quartilla is meant as a caricature of the Stoic sapiens’ wisdom, as described by Seneca. She believes our verse to be particularly close to a passage in the De clementia.49 Although the parallels she points out do not seem to me to be particularly close,50 I do believe that, in Petronius’ intention, the sapiens Quartilla refers to should be taken to be the Stoic wise man. Sommariva adds51 that Quartilla pinpoints and disputes an aspect of Seneca’s thinking that seems questionable to her: the imperturbability of the sapiens, who is superior to, and unattainable by, all injuries and offenses, as he is described in the philosopher’s works, and especially in the De constantia sapientis. In reality, though, Quartilla’s verse does not say that it is the wise man’s duty to protect his dignity and react to other people’s contemptus, as Sommariva would have it. It only remarks that he does so in real life (contemptus iurgia nectit).52 If there is a polemic against Seneca and the Stoics, therefore, it rather concerns the unlikelihood of the sapiens’ unresponsiveness to offense and immunity from passion, as shown by the fact that in Quartilla’s description 47

48 49

50

51 52

The meaning of quod possum is effectively conveyed by Ernout’s translation (Ernout 1923, 15: “j’aime pouvoir, comme je le peux, suivre librement ma voie”. We shall presently see that Quartilla probably means to oppose her freedom to the dogmatism of philosophic utopias. Sommariva 1990b, 86-88. Sen. clem. 2.7.1 ei ignoscitur qui puniri debuit; sapiens autem nihil facit quod non debet, nihil praetermittit quod debet: itaque poenam quam exigere debet non donat, 2 sed illud quod ex venia consequi vis honestiore via tribuet. Parcet enim sapiens, consulet et corriget, idem faciet quod si ignosceret, nec ignoscet, quoniam qui ignoscit fatetur aliquid se quod fieri debuit omisisse. Aliquem verbis tantum admonebit, poena non adficiet, aetatem eius emendabilem intuens… 3 Haec omnia non veniae sed clementiae opera sunt…Ignoscere est quem iudices puniendum non punire, venia debitae poenae remissio est. It is true that in Seneca we read poenam… donat (close to Petronius’ legem donare) and that he hints at the culprits’ young age, as Petronius does at 17.6; but unlike Seneca’s sapiens Quartilla does not mean to correct the culprits, but openly declares to seek personal redress (18.5). The culprits’ youth is seen as an extenuating circumstance, not one favorable to their reformation. The so-called sapiens’ widely advertised “pedagogic” intention is implicitely denounced as hypocrisy. See below. Sommariva 1990b, 87-88. Petrone 1993-1994, 98 correctly remarks: “facendo citare a Quartilla… il caso… del saggio che, contravvenendo ai suoi principi, anch’egli infine reagisce, Petronio scherza con la logora chiacchiera dello stoicismo a lui contemporaneo”. 69

Chapter III he too – or, like the priestess seems naughtily to imply, whoever proclaims himself to be a sapiens – does react to contemptus.53 The two alternatives posed in line 1 can now be seen in a new light. We have seen that for Quartilla both are to be rejected;54 but enduring other people’s contemptus and giving up legal action are not necessarily incompatible alternatives: anyone who – like the imaginary Stoic sapiens – fancies his own superiority to passions and offences, and therefore believes to be exempted from resorting to the law’s protection, would be, in Roman traditional conception, both contemptus, inasmuch as he does not care to protect his dignity according to the generally accepted social behavior, and superbus, inasmuch as he places himself outside and above the law; he would thus be doubly regarded as a social outcast. The ethics advocated by Stoicism, Quartilla seems to say, is incompatible with Roman customs – actually with reality itself, in that line 3 proves that a sapiens like the one idealized by the Stoics is not found in real life.55 Petronius’ (and his character’s) skepticism toward those who professed more or less utopistic philosophical doctrines is hardly surprising; and that he has contemporary figures in mind (Seneca? Demetrius?) is also suggested by a poem not far removed from this one, in which the Cynics of the time are portrayed as incapable to behave according to their lofty ideals in real life.56 The Stoics’ ideal sapiens, then, does not exist. But Quartilla proceeds beyond: whereas the so-called sapiens reacts aggressively and in a way far removed from his much-vaunted imperturbability,57 Quartilla, who is free from such hypocrisies and unambiguously declares that her aim is not to effect the moral reform of her offenders, but merely to obtain redress, is capable, if she chooses to, to be moderate; but, most inportant, she will follow a path she has

53

54 55

56 57

70

Petronius’ attitude to sapientia may be illustrated by his use of this term. At 91.9 the pectus sapientia plenus is Giton’s, who has chosen the stronger Ascyltos over his former lover Encolpius. Cf. also 94.1, where Giton’s sapientia is paired with his beauty. And that, as a consequence, superbum cannot mean “beautiful”, “splendid”, wonderful”, or the like: cf. above, note 35. Notice the formulation of this line: nam sane et sapiens contemptus iurgia nectit. Quartilla is saying this: the two attitudes sketched at line 1 are both to be rejected; this is proved (nam) by the fact that in reality (sane) even (et) the [so-called] sapiens (who in theory should not care about contempus and should forgo legal action) resorts to litigation when he is affected by contemptus”. Clearly Stoic imperturbability is regarded as unreal, and just as clearly Quartilla has had the figure of the Stoic sapiens in mind from the very beginning. Petr. 14.2.3-4 ipsi qui Cynica traducunt tempora pera / non numquam nummis vendere verba solent. Cf. ch. II. As implied by iurgia nectit. Iurgium seems to be a technical term to refer to litigation, but its connotatation appears to be more negative, as compared with other technical terms: cf. Sommariva 1990b, 85.

Two Views of Success (Petr. 15.9; 18.6) freely chosen, not abstract philosophical dogmas removed from real life;58 as she seems to suggest, she is the real sapiens, inasmuch as she is intellectually free. It goes without saying that, if the two alternatives of line 1 are not opposite and incompatible, it is no more necessary to seek a structure founded on the principle of the happy medium in the epigram.59 The whole poem hinges on a pervasive juridical metaphor:60 besides legem donare and iurgia, the last line too contains an image drawn from the same domain. The verb iugulo, as a matter of fact, often appears in a particular metaphorical meaning expressing the utter defeat of the opponent in court.61 It must, however, be strongly stressed, that this is only a metaphor. Before the verse Quartilla says that, if Encolpius and Ascyltos had not acceded of their own accord to her request for redress, she would have resorted not to law, but to violence.62 Only the pseudo-sapiens, perhaps, is so naïve as to become hoarse in courts of justice in order to protect a dignity, which, if he were consistent with his principles, he should not care for. He too, however, like Quartilla, is not willing to endure contemptus nor to legem donare. Quartilla does not give up the right which, in theory, the law should guarantee; but she knows that she can hardly trust the law; here too do we encounter ideas close to those expressed in the poem we referred to above.63 Though she is seemingly heedful of law (donare legem is superbum), in practice Quartilla recognizes only two ways to obtain personal redress, both totally foreign too law: personal agreement, or, in case this cannot be reached, resort to violence. Only when redress has been obtained in the first way can she afford a beau geste: non iugulare, i.e. not press her ad58 59

60 61

62

63

Quartilla’ clemency is anything but “nutrita di cultura filosofica”, as contended by Sommariva 1990b, 88; quite the other way: she opposes herself to philosophic utopias. We may continue to regard, with Sommariva, the last line (et qui non iugulat victor abire solet) as an intermediate term between legem donare and iurgia nectit, but without identifying, as she does, the formulation of the happy medium in line 2; this line, as we have seen, expresses Quartilla’s unhindered liberty (including intellectual freedom, as we have just discovered), not her leaning toward clemency, which is curbed by the respect due to law, as Sommariva maintains. It begins in the preceding prose: Petr. 18.5 a constituta lite dimitto. Cf. the numerous instances in TLL VII 2, s.v. iugulo, 636, 58-77. So, correctly, also Courtney 1991, 18. By contrast, Sommariva 1990b, 86 believes the image of line 4 to come directly from gladiatorial jargon, not philtered through the language of the forum (cf. also TLL VII 2, 636, 51-52). I do not believe that (unless we place a comma after victor) the idea expressed in line 4 may be paired with Sen. epigr. 6.3-4 (desere confossum! Victori vulnus iniquo / mortiferum impressit mortua saepe manus), as done by Burman 1743, I, 88-89. Petr. 18.5 ‘facio’ inquit ‘indutias vobiscum et a constituta lite dimitto. Quod si non adnuissetis de hac medicina quam peto, iam parata erat in crastinum turba quae et iniuriam meam vindicaret et dignitatem’. Petr. 14.2. Cf. ch. II. 71

Chapter III vantage to the hilt, refrain from dealing the finishing blow.64 The scholars who see in Quartilla’s prose speech and in the verse that rounds it off a clear illustration of the priestess’ domineering character are anything but wrong.65 The last line expresses Quartilla’s idea of success; it does not signify any renunciation on her part. She would never be content with a mere moral victory, if it did not entail the full attainment of her goals; but,66 once they have been attained, victory can be considered complete if it allows the beau geste of not inflicting the finishing blow on the fallen enemy.

64

65

66

72

In fact, she gives up, metaphorically, the constituta lis (18.5). Quartilla does not say that real victory is obtained by yielding (as Sommariva 1990b, 86 and n. 41 would have her say), but that real victory is obtained by not being uselessy cruel. It is not possible, therefore, to regard non iugulare as similar to legem donare, as maintained by Sommariva 1990b, 86 and Petrone 1993-1994, 98. The association might be justified if superbum is understood as “beautiful”, “splendid”, “wonderful”, as done by Petrone; much less if, like Sommariva does, it is interpreted (correctly in my opinion) as “sin of pride”. It is easier to agree with Sommariva when she takes non iugulare as an intermediate term between legem donare and iurgia nectere. Quartilla is never willing to legem donare, and describes non iugulare as an act due to the conqueror’s generosity (only after full victory has been gained). Cf. e.g. Cicu 1992, 19; Yeh 2007, 505-506, who lays emphasis on the poem’s metrical structure: the first couplet (whose hexameter is holospondaic) aims to make the general sentence’s authoritativeness subservient to Quartilla’s personal interests. The et opening line 4 has a clearly adversative meaning (“the so-called sapiens resorts to litigation, but only those who give up needless cruelty always – solet – obtain real victory”). So Heseltine 1913, 27 (“while”); Ernout 1923, 15 (“mais”); Pellegrino 1986, 207; Sommariva 1990b, 84 and n. 34; Tandoi 1992b, 646-647 (who proposes to correct to sed or at, in order to avoid two non correlative et in lines 3 and 4); Reverdito 1995, 23 (“ma”). For adversative et, also in the age of Petronius, cf. Setaioli 2000, 64-65; for Petronius Petersmann 1977, 241 (quoting Petr. 83.4; 63.6). According to Burman 1743, I, 90 and Mössler 1891, 729 the two et are correlative (denoting two parallel, not opposed, situations: as the sapiens only punishes through his word – so Mössler – so Quartilla too limits herself to reproaches and refrains from extreme measures).

Chapter IV Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8)*

23.2 intrat cinaedus, homo omnium insulsissimus et plane illa domo dignus, qui ut infractis manibus congemuit, eiusmodi carmina effudit: 3

huc huc convenite nunc, spatalocinaedi, pede tendite, cursum addite, convolate planta, femore facili, clune agili et manu procaces, molles, veteres, Deliaci manu recisi.

23.3 L(=lmrtp) 1 add. L. Müller nunc lrp2, om. mtp1 3 add. Fraenkel et om. l, del. Fraenkel

132.8

Ter corripui terribilem manu bipennem, ter languidior coliculi repente thyrso ferrum timui, quod trepido male dabat usum. Nec iam poteram, quod modo conficere libebat; namque illa metu frigidior rigente bruma confugerat in viscera mille operta rugis. Ita non potui supplicio caput aperire, sed furciferae mortifero timore lusus ad verba, magis quae poterant nocere, fugi.

L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 1 terribilem Opt Samb.: terribili lr 3 male dabat Orp: dabat male lt

5

Chapter IV 9 Erectus igitur in cubitum hac fere oratione contumacem vexavi… 11 Haec ut iratus effudi, illa solo fixos oculos aversa tenebat, nec magis incepto vultum sermone movetur quam lentae salices lassove papavera collo. 1. The two poems at 23.3 and 132.8 are the only surviving verse in the Satyrica to be written in Sotadeans. Besides this conspicuous metrical similarity, the two poetical inserts share the lewdness in content, as many scholars have not failed to remark.1 We too, in the course of our analysis, shall point out several aspects closely linking the two poems; it should not be overlooked, however, that, though both belong in the tradition initiated by the poet Sotades of Maroneia, they are also remarkably different. This point was best illustrated by Maurizio Bettini,2 who calls attention to the fact that the poem at 23.3, which is recited by a cinaedus, is a clear and explicit specimen of cinaedic poetry, whereas the composition at 132.8 is a case of epic parody like that attested for the poet of Maroneia.3 The two poems, then, reproduce the two types of poetry Sotades devoted himself to. This diversity is reinforced by the different function allotted to the two poems in the prose context. The first one is recited by a character and aims to represent him as a member of the group this type of poetry particularly suited, the

* 1

2 3

74

A version of this chapter has appeared with the title Le due poesie in sotadei di Petronio (Sat. 23.3; 132.8), “Cuadernos de Filología Clásica. Estudios Latinos” 23, 1, 2003, 89106. Barnes 1971, 290-291 stresses the affinities between these poems and the Priapea. Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 105 only emphasizes the lewd subject of both. Others, like Stephens-Winkler 1995, 367 remind that the Sotadean meter was often associated with the galli, the castrated priests of Cybele (they refer to Demetr. de eloc. 189 and Syrian. in Hermog. I, p. 47, 9-11 Rabe, who in reality only emphasize the Sotadeans’ effeminacy and the Ionic meters’ softness respectively). The galli, in turn, were often paired with the cinaedi: cf. Parsons 1971, 62 (he quotes Mart. 2.86 and Athen. 14, 620E, but only in the former text is cinaedic poetry associated with the gallus Attis); Parsons 1974, 39; Bettini 1982, 91-92; Merkelbach 1973, 92 (who stresses the metric affinities of the Sotadean and the galliambus); Stephens-Winkler 1995, 359. The theme of castration, at any rate, links the two Petronian poems (at 132.8 Encolpius attempts to castrate himself; 23.3 is recited by a cinaedus addressing his castrated equals: Deliaci manu recisi). Bettini 1982, 86-87. For Sotades’ “rewriting” of the Ilias with the change of hexameters to Sotadeans, see Sotad. frs. 4a-c Powell and cf. Aly 1927, 1208; Bettini 1982, 67-69.

Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) cinaedi;4 the second, by contrast, is one of the few poetic inserts that actually moves the narration forward:5 it is therefore “narrative” poetry, just like serious epic is.6 2. This is not the place to investigate the prosimetric nature of Petronius’ novel and its relation to Greek and Latin precedents. It is obviously understandable why, after the discovery of the fragment of the so-called “Iolaus-novel”, the traditionally assumed kinship linking the Satyrica to Menippean satire is no longer accepted, or at least drastically reduced, by several scholars – even though an outright separation between “Menippean” and “novelistic” prosimetric narrative is hardly justified by the scantness of the material at our disposal.7 Nevertheless the pairing of Petronius’ first poem in Sotadeans (and its context) with the socalled Iaolaus is natural, and – hopefully – profitable. The Iolaus fragment has been preserved by a papyrus going back to the II century A.D.8 It is a prose narrative, but it contains a speech in Sotadeans addressed to a certain Iolaus and uttered by a character who apparently has undergone some type of initiation and has become a gallus. As we have seen,9 this term and cinaedus have similar connotations and are even interchangeable, to a certain extent. At any rate, the word appears several times in the text.10 The narrative was no doubt lewd, as we may infer with certainty, though the papyrus is mangled. This general character, added to the specific detail of the recitation of Sotadeans by a character somehow resembling Petronius’ cinaedus, led Parsons to pair the Iolaus with Petronius’ Satyrica even before the

4 5

6

7

8 9 10

That cinaedic poetry suited the cinaedi well was of course well-known even before the discovery of the Iolaus fragment; cf. e.g. Barnes 1971, 288. It is the only one to do so according to Beck 1973, 56; one of the few for Bartonková 1976, 82. That 132.8 contributes to the story’s development is also recognized by Barnes 1971, 289, 292. It is no chance that the same applies to Petronius’ Virgilian “cento” too (132.11). This “cento” appears soon after the Sotadeans at 132.8; it is part of a sustained epic parody along with the Sotadeans and the short prose intermezzo. Such a separation is upheld by Astbury 1977, who rules out any relationship between Petronius and Menippean satire. This seems too radical: cf. Barchiesi 1986, 232 n. 27 (= Barchiesi 1999, 136 n. 27); Stramaglia 1992, 137-138; Conte 1996, 166-167, whose whole fifth chapter offers a detailed analysis of the question (also with extensive literature), while at any rate reducing the traditionally assumed influence of Menippean satire. Yeh 2007, 20, 37-40 sticks to the traditional connection with the latter. POxy 3010. The Sotadeans appear at lines 14-33. Each verse occupies the space of two prose columns. See the text in Stephens-Winkler 1995, 368-370. Above, note 1. Three times: POxy 3010.14, 26, 27 (p. 368 Stephens-Winkler) 75

Chapter IV publication of the papyrus.11 It is indeed quite possible that the new fragment may belong to a strand of Greek narrative fiction different from the previously known novels of idealized love, and close to the ambiance and atmosphere of the Satyrica; this type of fiction might even have been already established before Petronius’ times, though the Iolaus papyrus must be dated in the II century A.D. Parsons, however, is commendably cautious when he warns that, in view of the shortness of the fragment, the Iolaus’ prosimetric form may be mere appearance, although a quotation from Euripides’ Orestes at the end of the preserved text once more introduces meter into the prose narrative.12 Quotations from Greek poets also appear in the novels preserved in their entirety, and the speech in verse uttered by the gallus may be due to the wish to characterize the speaker, and thus to a narrative contingency, rather than signaling a constant charachteristic of this work of fiction, which is totally lost except for this short fragment.13 However, another novelistic fragment featuring a metric section has since been discovered;14 the story it told apparently takes place in a fanciful Orient, and both characters and situations seem to suggest an ambiance removed from that of the novels of idealized love. It is therefore reasonable to suppose, with Stephens and Winkler,15 that already in Petronius’ time there existed not merely a novelistic tradition that featured roguish characters and lewd situations but also a prosimetric type of narrative. If this is so, then the similarities between Petronius and the Iolaus16 should be in all probability explained through the common generic affiliation rather than by supposing a direct contact. Nevertheless what strikes the reader’s attention is not so much the general similarity as the circumstance that in the Greek fragment the Sotadeans are recited by a character who has undergone an initiation17 and has also learned to dress like a 11

12

13 14 15 16 17

76

Parsons 1971, 52, 65-66. Shortly after Parsons the Iolaus’ affinity with Petronius (especially with the Quartilla and Oenothea episodes) was emphasized by Merkelbach 1973, 89. POxy 3010.39-43, p. 370 Stephens-Winkler quotes Eur. Orest. 1155-1157, with a slight change. This citation is not evidenced by writing one verse in each line, as was the case with the speech in Sotadeans addressed to Iolaus. The quotation, however, is preceded by a blank space. Parsons 1971, 65. We may add that verse appears occasionally in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses too (4.33; 9.8), though nobody would regard this novel as prosimetric. The so-called Tinouphis (published in 1981). See lastly Stephens-Winkler 1995, 400408. Stephens-Winkler 1995, 365-366. Cf., besides, Aragosti 1995, 35 n. 38; 45 n. 46; Conte 1996, 166; Connors 1998, 16-18; Petersmann 2000, 379. Similarities and differences of the two texts have been carefully surveyed ever since Parsons 1971, 65. Stephens-Winkler 1995, 360-361 emphasize the fragment’s unreliability as far as the ritual connected with Cybele’s cult is concerned. At any rate, this is of no great impor-

Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) woman;18 we should remember that in Petronius the poem is recited by an effeminate cinaedus taking part in a ceremony connected with mysteries. 3. The most obvious difference between the Sotadeans recited by the gallus in the Greek fragment and those uttered by Petronius’ cinaedus lies in the fact that the former amount to a speech addressed to Iolaus, with details possibly referring to previous adventures and also to Iolaus’ lewd intentions.19 By contrast, Petronius’ poem at 23.3 is a sort of solo aria recited by a character who suddenly occupies the scene and for a moment captures all attention.20 Bettini rightly remarks21 that the details preceding these Sotadens function like directions in an opera score, so that the reader is enabled to get a clear idea of how this solo is performed; and Aragosti22 emphasizes the neurotic atmosphere of this scene, with the cinaedus addressing an imaginary multitude of his equals,23 as if wishing to expand his own frenzy to infinity. The main problem posed by this poem is the conspicuous metric irregularity of the first line, where two short syllables are wanted in the first foot, and of line 3, where something is missing after femore. Bettini accepts the transmitted text. He thinks that Petronius, whose negative attitude toward the cinaedus is evident, from the esthetic point of view,24 wished to emphasize his dullness (homo omnium insulsissimus) even through his metrical faults in the type of poetry that should best suit him.25 This is anything but impossible; even in the Iolaus vulgarisms and incorrectnesses concentrate in the verse, perhaps to characterize the speaker;26 nor are metrical problems missing.27 Most editors, however, insert L. Müller’s after huc huc in the first line28 and accept Fraenkel’s femore

18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

26 27 28

tance for us; what matters is the narrative fiction, regardless of its correspondence to reality. POxy 3010.7-8 [ (p. 368 Stephens-Winkler). POxy 3010.30 (p. 370 Stephens-Winkler). E.R. Dodds, ap. Parsons 1974, 35 n. 1 believes the plot to be similar to Terentius’ Eunuchus’. Cf. Panayotakis 1995, 46. Bettini 1982, 87-89. Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 9, 104. Cf. Plaut. Stich. 772 omnis voco cinaedos. Cf. e.g. Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 9. Bettini 1982, 89-90 (he refers to Trimalchio’s verse at 55.3 and 34.10); cf. Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 109. Cugusi 1967, 89-90 already thought of an intentional mistake in order to further debase the character, but mistakenly believed the first line to be regular; he doubtfully suggested the prosody f more at line 3. The attempt made by Yeh 2007, 104, 527 to prove that these verse is not improvised but prepared beforehand (not by the cinaedus) appears to be groundless. Cf. Parsons 1971, 63. Cf. Bettini 1982, 90 n. 104. Cito is accepted, in the editions following his first one, by Bücheler too, though elsewhere he had previously made a different proposal. 77

Chapter IV in the third.29 These additions,30 it cannot be denied, convey the impression of idle fillers;31 but it is not easy to admit such an incorrectness in Petronius, although some parallels might be invoked.32 The frenzied opening of the verse reminds of certain patterns found in lofty poetry, especially tragedy,33 but it should not escape us that only another poem, as far as we know, opens with the same gemination; and this poem is part of the collection of the Priapea,34 which means that its atmosphere is closely related to the one we find in Petronius’ poem. Priapus plays an important role in the whole of Petronius novel, which shall be discussed at length in one of the following chapters. For the moment it must be stressed that, as we shall see, the links with the type of poetry represented by the Priapea is one of the common traits connecting 23.3 and the other poem in Sotadeans at 132.8.35 The wildly excited opening appeal reaches the highest pitch with the long compound in the vocative case which fills the whole final part of the first line. It denotes the addressees of the cinaedus’ poem and has been chosen to capture the listener’s (and the reader’s) attention through its size, position, and peculiarity: spatalocinaedi. Scholars have long since called attention to a similar compound employed by Lucilius: moechocinaedi.36 This may have suggested to Petronius 29 30

31

32

33 34 35

36

78

Bücheler prefers femore in his editions following the first one. In this (1862) he acepted the traditional reading of both line 1 and line 3. Nobody, except Barnes 1971, 306 n. 2, has accepted another of Fraenkel’s suggestions: convertite in lieu of convenite at line 1 (cf. Müller 1961, 211). The expunction of et at line 3 is needless. As rightly remarked by Bettini 1982, 89, in reference to the inserted in the trikolon in line 3. He also adduces several instances of huc huc immediately followed by an imperative (cf. v. 1). One would be at 93.2.4 et pictis anas renovata pinnis (a line close to a Sapphic hendecasyllable in a series of Phalaeceans). Cugusi 1967, 86 accepted the transmitted text here too, but in this case the irregularity could hardly be explained assuming the speaker’s ignorance, since these lines are uttered by the professional poet Eumolpus. The text must probably be corrected. Cf. ch. VI. For Trimalchio’s doggerels cf. above, note 25, and ch. V. Sen. Med. 980; Phaedr. 1247; also Catull. 64.195. In an erotic context, but far removed from Petronius’ paroxysm, Catull. 61.8-9. Priap. 14.1-2 huc huc, quisquis es, in dei salacis / deverti grave ne puta sacellum. Barnes 1971, 307 n. 5 saw the parallel, but thought it might be coincidental. Another detail connecting 23.3 with the Priapea and related poetry is the imperative convenite, following the geminated huc huc. Courtney 1991, 19 adduces an epigraphic poem in which the same imperative is twice used as an appeal to honor Priapus: CE 1504.13-17 convenite simul quot est[is om]nes / … / convenite quot estis atque [be]llo / voce dicite blandula [Pria]po. For the parallel of v. 3 (clune agili) with Priap. 83.23 see below, note 53. A Priapus, by the way, is also attested among the titles attributed to Sotades (cf. fr. 5 Powell). Lucil. 1058 Marx = 994 Krenkel = 30.89 Charpin. The reference already appears in Burman 1743, I, 107; then in Collignon 1892, 235 n. 1. Subsequently e.g. in Pellegrino

Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) the flamboyant term with which he has chosen to hint at the cinaedi’s lewdness.37 The poem’s first line is the kernel from which the whole composition develops. The first line’s opening appeal is in fact repeated and nuanced in the second, while the third and fourth lines amount to a characterization of the spatalocinaedi. The three lines developing the first one are all molded in the pattern of the trikolon, but whereas in the first two (i.e. lines 2 and 3) each of the three members of the trikolon is made up by two words which are placed in parallel or at most chiastic order (cursum addite, convolate planta), in the last line the cola are arranged in a pattern of progressive increase: the third member consists of three words, the first and the second of one.38 Incidentally, this rules out the interpretation of the first two words of the last line given by Courtney,39 who places no comma betwwen molles and veters and understands “effeminates of long standing”. Mollis can of course be employed as a substantive in the meaning advocated by Courtney,40 but here an adjective is needed; otherwise the triadic pattern, which is clearly the pivot around which the whole structure of the poem revolves, would be destroyed. As for veteres, most scholars take it to mean “expert”, “experienced” (in homosexual practice),41 just like Courtney, but not to be an epithet specifying molles understood as substantive, as Courtney does. This meaning of vetus is well attested in Latin. It is surely the meaning intended by the speaker, but we cannot rule out that in the the narrator’s (and behind him the author’s) intention the primary meaning of the word may still lurk behind this specific one – a possible reference to the disparaging topos of the eunuchs’ and the cinaedi’s early aging.42 The reciting cinaedus himself is marked by wrinkles, which are still visible through a garish makeup,43 and Cleopatra’s eunuchs described by Horace are wrinkled too.44 If, as I believe, this nuance cannot possibly reflect the

37

38 39 40 41 42 43 44

1986, 209; Courtney 1991, 19. For the formation and the meaning of this Greek-style compound cf. Marbach 1931, 137; Page 1978, 46; Cavalca 2001, 158-159. This is the meaning of the Greek word , which is also confirmed by the Latin glossarists: CGL V, p. 151, 38 spatale, deliciae. Aragosti’s suggestion, in AragostiCosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 106, who refers to Varr. Men. 275 and to boys supposedly castrated by the Spatale mentioned in Varro (but the transmitted text is spatule – spatula Mercerus – eviravit omnes Veneri vaga pueros), appears to be groundless, though Iunius’ correction Spatale is now accepted by Astbury too. Cf. Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 108. Courtney 1991, 19. Cf. TLL VIII 1379, 38-52; also González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 119; Pellegrino 1986, 209. See e.g. Schönberger 1935, 1244. Cf. Burman 1743, I, 108; Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 108. Both refer to Trimalchio’s puer vetulus (28.4) and to Mart. 1.41.13 vetuli… cinaedi. Petr. 23.5 inter rugas malarum tantum erat cretae… Hor. epod. 9.13-14 spadonibus… rugosis. 79

Chapter IV speaker’s intention but must be seen as the narrator’s (or the author’s) implied judgment, the opposition assumed by Walsh45 to exist between veteres and the preceding molles (in the sense of “young”) must also be ruled out. This opposition would in the first place mess up the last line’s trikolon, whose members do not identify distinct groups, but are referred to all the spatalocinaedi regarded as one group. 46 Secondly, mollis in the sense of “effeminate” is too well-attested in Latin47 for doubts to arise concerning the meaning of the word in a context like ours. Resuming the analysis of the poem, which has been interrupted in order to anticipate that of the first two words of the last line, it is only fair to state that not much can be added to Aragosti’s exhaustive commentary to be found in the work often referred to.48 As far as the peculiarities of language, style, and content of the parallel trikola in lines 2-3 are concerned, we can unhesitantly refer to his work.49 I limit myself to a few additional remarks. The second member of the trikolon in line 3, clune agili, is rightly understood by Aragosti50 and numerous other interpreters, including some early ones whose explanations were collected by Burman,51 as a deliberately ambiguous allusion to ability in dance, which of course includes a hint at sexual availability.52 In my opinion, though a double entendre cannot in any way be ruled out, the sexual meaning is undoubtedly in the foreground. This will appear all but certain if we compare a Priapeum which, as we shall see, also has much in common with Petronius’ other poem in Sotadeans (132.8). In this Priapeum we read an

45 46

47 48 49

50 51 52

80

Walsh 1996, 17: “Come, tender youths, and you in later life, / and lads castrated by the Delian’s knife”. Notice that Walsh must force Petronius’ text, by inserting two “and” which have no counterpart in the Latin, in order to create three distinct groups. Not to mention the fact that, after the polar opposition he poses between the first two groups, it is difficult to understand their relations to the third group, the one made up of the “lads castrated by the Delian’s knife”. It is quite clear that all spatalocinaedi are molles, veteres, and recisi. Cf. TLL VIII 1379, 26-52; Sandy 1971, 51 and n. 2. Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 105-109. For cursum addite we may add to Verg. georg. 1.512 addunt in spatia the reference to the texts collected in TLL I 587, 22-25, and especially to Plaut. trin. 1010 adde gradum, adpropera. Cf. also Liv. 3.27.6; 10.20.10; 26.9.5. Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 107. Burman 1743, I, 106-107. Besides CGL V, p. 654, 7-8 and Iuv. 6.464, Aragosti quotes Petronius himself (21.2 extortis nos clunibus cecidit; 24.4 clunibus eum basiisque distrivit: in the same homoerotic context of Quartilla’s orgy). In Burman reference is made to Arnob. 2.42, Iuv. 11.162-164, and Iuv. 2.20-21, where a sexual meaning is unequivocal.

Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) expression close to Petronius’ clune agili which has no reference at all to dancing.53 One last remark on the poem’s closing words. The interpretations collected by Burman54 already offer the two alternatives developed in later exegesis, based on the interpretation of Deliaci either as a vocative plural or as a genitive singular.55 In my opinion the first alternative must be ruled out, since it would leave manu without a referent,56 but in either case a metaphorical reference to the castration57 of roosters to produce capons may be surmised. Poultry raising was in fact a widespread activity on Delos.58 A non-metaforical reference to capons can indeed be found in another poem of Petronius’.59 Be that as it may, I believe Deliaci (suerely a genitive) to refer not to a Delian poultry raiser but to the Delian par excellence: Apollo, whose medical and healing functions are well known; or, alternatively, to his son, Asclepius, the god of medicine.60 In my opinion Courtney is right,61 when he asserts that in this way the speaker means to ennoble, and bestow prestige upon, his group.62 4. As we have already pointed out, Petronius’ other poem in Sotadeans (132.8) relates to the other strand of Sotades’ production: irreverent epic parody entailing both metrical alteration and a desecrating travesty of content.63 In fact, the connection of this poem with epic is unanimously recognized by all scholars. All, however, limit themselves to emphasizing the Virgilian paro53 54 55

56 57 58 59 60 61

62 63

Priap. 83.21-23 tener puer / … imminente qui toro / iuvante verset arte mobilem natem. Burman 1743, I, 108-109. Among recent interpreters Deliaci is understood as vocative by Pellegrino 1986, 209 and Bruneau 1985, 547-549. Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 109 does not take either position. This is rightly pointed out by Courtney 1991, 20, who adds that the meaning “artificially”, often attested for manu, can hardly apply to castration. For recisus in the sense of “castrated” Ov. am. 2.3.3 qui primus pueris genitalia membra recidit is usually referred to. I forgo adducing once more the numerous ancient testimonies, which are collected and discussed by Burman 1743, I, 108-109; Barnes 1971, 306 n. 4; Bruneau 1985, 548. Petr. 55.6.4 gallus spado – a text which is not pointed out by those who see a reference to capons at 23.3.4. Asclepius actually performs castration in Stat. silv. 3.4.68-70 (quoted by Courtney 1991, 19). Courtney 1991, 19. The Deliacus is taken to be Apollo also by Walsh 1996, 161-162; Aragosti, in Aragosti-Cosci-Cotrozzi 1988, 109. Aragosti 1995, 180 n. 53 believes that both the poultry raiser and Asclepius may be alluded to. This is the case in Statius’ passage (cf. above, note 60). As Yeh 2007, 529 rightly remarks, this poem is metrically more regular than the one recited by the cinaedus. Possibly, this is so because Encolpius is not so ignorant as the cinaedus is. 81

Chapter IV dies.64 This was partially to be expected, and Bettini has a point when he states that for Petronius the obvious epic referent was Virgil.65 But though this is certainly true for the textual and stylistic parallels – strongly encouraged by the fact that the two writers shared the same language –, we must not underestimate the circumstance that, as far as content is concerned, the irreverent degradation which lowers an epic situation to a desecrating level of sexual innuendo supposes a reference that has apparently escaped all scholars. I am thinking of the famous episode of Achilles’ and Agamemnon’s quarrel at the beginning of the Iliad. There the former reaches for the sword in order to kill the latter, but then, after being reproached by Athena, only assails him with words.66 Not long before Encolpius has confessed to Giton the mishap that has affected the part of his body which once made him feel like an Achilles.67 Now, in spite of his impotence, he continues to play the role of the hero, while the member that has betrayed him – from which he means to exact bloody vengeance – takes on the role of Agamemnon. As in Homer, though, the cruel intention is not carried out and all boils down to verbal abuse.68 Besides the obviously desecrating transfer of the quarrel from Achilles and Agamemnon to Encolpius and his recalcitrant member,69 another factor of degradation may be seen in the cowardice of both parties,70 as opposed to the epic heroes’ pride and boldness. Besides the desecration of Homeric epic, it is also possible that our poem may be meant as an irreverent caricature of mythological tales connected with the gods of tradition (not merely of poetry), as is the case in other Petronian po-

64

65

66 67 68

69

70

82

The one exception is Fedeli 1988, 77, who, however, limits himself to the very general statement that we may observe “la compresenza in Petronio di due codici epici, quello omerico e quello virgiliano”. Bettini 1982, 86: “se per Sotade il codice epico di riferimento (o meglio di mascheramento?) era costituito da Omero, per Petronio esso non poteva che esser sostituito dal suo equivalente latino, Virgilio”. Hom. Il. 1.189-224. Petr. 129.1 funerata est illa pars corporis, qua quondam Achilles eram. We shall return later to the image of impotence as “death”. Petr. 132.8.9 ad verba, magis quae poterant nocere, fugi ~ Hom. Il. 1.223-224 / ! " # $ Analogous desecrations are certainly not wanting in the Satyrica. A similar scene of castration not actually carried out (in this case not intended in the first place) can be found at 108.10-11, with an explicit reference to another lofty literary genre: tragedy (108.11 audacius tamen ille tragoediam implebat…). The protagonist is Giton, who gives the cue to tragic parody elsewhere too (cf. 80.3). Encolpius: languidior repente thyrso / ferrum timui, quod trepido male dabat usum (vv. 2-3); his member: namque illa metu frigidior rigente bruma / confugerat in viscera mille operta rugis (vv. 5-6) and mortifero timore (v. 8). See also below, note 96.

Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) ems too.71 According to a legend reported by Clement of Alexandria, Zeus performed a very realistic pretense of castration, as atonement for raping Demeter. Here, as elsewhere in Petronius, we witness a complete reversal: Encolpius really attempts to castrate himself, but fails; and he does so for the opposite reason, i.e. for not having made love to Circe. A parodic reversal of this type is not without counterparts: according to a burlesque version of Attis’ legend – once more significantly transmitted by Christian authors72 – the young man rejected Cybele’s advances, and for this reason the goddess impelled him to castrate himself, not because of his unfaithfulness, as recounted in the traditional version.73 It must be stressed, then, that not only does Encolpius compare himself to Jupiter in the poems he recites at the moment of amorous elation;74 he continues to do so in this poem too, when he describes the punishment he tries to inflict on himself, to make amends for a sexual act that he, unlike the god, has not been able to perform. In many details the epic parody of our poem depends of course on the Virgilian model. The opening image (corripui terribilem manu bipennem) has exact counterparts in the Aeneid,75 and the pattern ter… ter is also clearly epic (both Homeric and Virgilian). The majority of interpreters76 refer to a couple of verses that appear unchanged in two distinct passages of the Aeneid, when Aeneas vainly tries to embrace the ghosts of his wife and of his father;77 in reality, however, there is a much more fitting parallel: the description of Dido’s attempt to rise from her bed, which she vainly repeats for three times after striking herself

71

72 73 74

75

76

77

E.g. in the poem at 126.8, which describes a gray-haired and impotent Jupiter. Cf. ch. XIII. We may ask ourselves if it is by mere chance that in both cases Petronius is close to the criticism of traditional gods we find in Clement of Alexandria. For Petr. 126.18 cf. Clem. Alex. protr. 2.37.1 ff. For our verse at 132.8 cf. Clem. Alex. protr. 2.15.2. Tertull. ad nat. 1.10.45; apol. 15.2; and especially Min. Fel. Oct. 22.4. Cf. e.g. Ov. fast. 4.223-244. Cf. Petr. 126.18 and 127.9 (chs. XIII and XIV respectively). As we shall see, at 127.9 Encolpius places himself on a par with Zeus in the famous love scene of Iliad 14, but the sexual roles are reversed. As we have seen, there is a similar reversal in 132.8 too. Verg. Aen. 2.479 correpta dura bipenni is referred to by almost all scholars; by contrast, Verg. Aen. 11.651 validam dextra rapit indefessa bipennem is adduced, if I am not mistaken, only by Bettini 1982, 85-86 and Fedeli 1989, 213. E.g. Barnes 1971, 295; Zeitlin 1971a, 71; Blickmann 1988, 8; Slater 1990a, 185; Adamietz 1995, 323; Connors 1998 31; Rimell 2002, 154-155. Courtney 1991, 34 also quotes Verg. Aen. 10.685-686 (ter conatus utramque viam, ter maxima Iuno / continuit), the only parallel quoted by Merkelbach 1973, 84 n. 12. Verg. Aen. 2.792-793 = 6.700-701 ter conatus ibi collo dare bracchia circum; / ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago. Cf., of course, Hom. Od. 11.206-208. 83

Chapter IV with Aeneas’ sword.78 As it seems, only two scholars have called attention to this passage.79 Both rightly point out that the allusion to Virgil’s queen anticipates in this poem the cento closely following at 132.11, whose first two lines are taken from Virgil’s description of Dido in the lower world in Aeneid 6.80 In the latter irreverent pastiche Dido is directly transformed, with no sheltering screen whatsoever, into Encolpius’ recalcitrant mentula; but we may add that this development is already foreshadowed in the Sotadeans, in which the wayward member’s retreat has been paired by some with the dead queen disdainfully turning away in the same Virgilian passage.81 In this context the allusion to the dying Dido through the poem’s opening anaphora (ter… ter) is an additional touch which, in the most genuine spirit of Sotadic poetry, contributes to prepare, and give more point to, the Virgilian queen’s equation with Encolpius’ member. Like Dido, it too is unable to rise and deaf to all appeals. That the figure of Dido was particularly fit for this type of literary operation had already been made clear in the famous story of the widow of Ephesus, in which some lines addressed to her by her sister Anna at the beginning of Aeneid 4 are recycled by the widow’s handmaid, when she urges the lady to become the soldier’s lover;82 In other words, these lines are trasferred from a noble and tragically intense love story to the despicable affair recounted by Eumolpus.83 Possibly Petronius is taking pleasure in reversing an established feature of ancient fiction; that this may be so may be inferred not merely from the quota78

79 80

81

82 83

84

Verg. Aen. 4.690-691 ter sese attollens cubitoque adnixa levavit, / ter revoluta toro est. By contrast, Encolpius in his bed (conditus lectulo: 132.9) is erectus in cubitum (132.9). The type of “erection” he is not capable of is quite different! Bettini 1982, 86 and, more recently, Mutgatroyd 2000, 350. Petr. 132.11.1-2 = Verg. Aen. 6.469-470 illa solo fixos oculos aversa tenebat / nec magis incepto vultum sermone movetur. The third line (quam lentae salices lassove papavera collo) is made up by an expression drawn from Verg. ecl. 5.16 = 3.83 (lenta salix) and the final part of Aen. 9.436. Many scholars remark that it is naughtily substituted for the one that follows the first two in Virgil (Aen. 6.471 quam si dura silex aut stet Marpesia cautes), which certainly does not fit Encolpius’ present state: e.g. Fedeli 1989, 212; Vergé-Borderolle 1999, 5; lastly Rimell 2002, 156. Zeitlin 1971a, 71 n. 2 notes that the three Virgilian passages making up this cento have all to do with premature death (Dido committed suicide; ecl. 5.16 comes shortly before Daphnis’ epicedium; Aen. 9.436 describes Euryalus’ death). This is hardly coincidental, in view of the importance, in the context, of the theme of impotence equated with death, as we shall soon see. Like Zeitlin, Fedeli 1989, 211 also prefers to see a hint at Verg. ecl. 5.16, rather than to ecl. 3.83, since in the former passage the expression appears in a comparison, like in Petronius. Cf. also Crogliano 2003b, 145-147. Petr. 132.8.6 confugerat in viscera mille operta rugis is paired with Verg. Aen. 6.471472 tandem corripuit sese atque inimica refugit / in nemus umbriferum by Zeitlin 1971a, 71 and Fedeli 1989, 213, 220. Petr. 111.12 (Verg. Aen. 4.34); 112.2 (Aen. 4.38). Cf. e.g. Cutolo 1986, 62.

Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) tions we find in Greek novels (for example in Chariton), but from a particularly fitting comparison with a passage of the Historia Apollonii regis Tyri, in which numerous expressions drawn from the same Virgilian context are in all seriousness incorporated in the story in order to describe the rise of a love as noble as in Virgil.84 So, the parody of epic overflows from the Sotadic context85 to include the Virgilian cento. It is true that Encolpius’ prose address to the mentula, which fills the intervening space, after the solemn opening apostrophe,86 does not keep the mock loftiness humorously aping the poetic model. It should not escape us, however, that the end of this prose address, right before the cento, is marked by an eminently epic formula signaling the end of the speech,87 not unlike that which had been employed to signal the end of Tryphaena’s poetic speech88 and was part of an elaborate literary experiment, as we shall see in detail in another chapter.89 It is worth remarking that a comparable formula is employed by Petronius in a third passage,90 but with a variation that allows him to use it to mark not the conclusion but the beginning of a speech in verse – none other than the other poem in Sotadeans recited by the cinaedus we have previously discussed. One might think that the author has meant to place a specular mark on the two contexts, thus emphasizing the closeness of the two poems in Sotadeans, but also their different type and purpose. The epic parody extending organically over the whole passage from 132.8 to 132.11 produces a natural result: the poem in Sotadeans does not need to be placed next to, and compared with, the prose context for the reader to grasp its parodic nature, as is the case, for example with the poem at 127.9;91 I do not share Bettini’s opinion on this point.92 True, the reader knows beforehand whom this speech in verse is directed to; but in the verse itself the feminine (illa… operta… furciferae) leaves no possible doubt: the speech is directed to the mentula: Petronius’ finesse in thus indirectly alluding to the part of the body he 84

85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92

Hist. Apoll. reg. Tyr. 18, p. 13, 19-20 Schmeling (Redactio A) sed regina gravi iamdudum saucia cura (~ Verg. Aen. 4.1) Apolloni figit in pectore vultus verba (~ Aen. 4.12), cantusque memor credit genus esse deorum (~ Aen. 4.12). Nec somnum oculis nec membris dat cura quietem (~ Aen. 4.5). To employ Bettini’s felicitous expression (Bettini 1982, 86). Petr. 132.9 omnium hominum deorumque pudor. Petr. 132.11 haec ut iratus effudi. Petr. 109.1 haec ut turbato clamore mulier effudit. Cf. ch. XI. On formulas of this type signaling the end of an epic speech see Setaioli 1985, 105. Petr. 23.2 eiusmodi carmina effudit. Cf. ch. XIV. Bettini 1982, 86: “se il carme fosse dato senza indicazioni contestuali più ampie, difficilmente si potrebbe arguire chi sia mai il timido e vile personaggio con cui l’eroe tenta invano di scontrarsi”. 85

Chapter IV never mentions by name, though it plays such an important role in his work, should not escape the reader.93 There are, besides, several elements whose mold is different from, or even opposed to, the epic manner, which would prevent the reader from taking this poem seriously, even independently from its relation to the prose. These elements have not been duly stressed, and we shall presently try to point them out. If we add the numerous alliterations and assonances so conspicuously present in this poem (ter… teribilem… ter… timui… trepido, etc.)94, the picture of Petronius’ ways to attain epic parody will be complete. 5. The tone of epic parody is surely prevalent in the Sotadeans at 132.8, but it does not exhaust the poem’s expressive range. Its very subject connects it with a theme often treated in love poetry – in epigram and elegy, but also, as we shall see, the Priapea – both before and after Petronius: the theme of impotence. Among the several epigrams in the Anthologia Palatina which might be quoted,95 one offers close correspondences with our Sotadeans both in content and expression.96 The author, the epigrammatist Automedon, is surely earlier than Petronius; probably, however, both drew on a common repertoire. At Rome, after some hints in Horace’s Epodes,97 a famous model existed: the seventh elegy of the third book of Ovid’s Amores, a poem that Petronius surely has in mind.98 In Ovid, however, the main element of Petronius’ Sotadeans is missing: I mean the threat of punishment to the recalcitrant member. This appears, by contrast, in another poetic text centered on the theme of impo93 94 95 96

97 98

86

Vergé-Borderolle 1999, 5 n. 25 blatantly misunderstands the passage: he believes Encolpius’ mentula to correspond to the bipennis mentioned in v. 1. This aspect has been stressed by Barnes 1971, 293. AP 5.47; 11.29; 12.216; 12.232. Automed. AP 11.29.3-4 # † ! † % / & ! " ~ Petr. 132.8.2 languidior coliculi… thyrso (cf. also Catull. 67.21 languidior tenera… sicula beta: actually in Petronius the expression refers to Encolpius, not to his member; but, once the latter has lost its vigor, he becomes equally weak: the former “Achilles” is now as enervated as his treacherous “Agamemnon”: cf. above); 6 confugit in viscera. Both parallels are pointed out by Courtney 1991, 34. Automedon’s date is not sure (cf. Gow-Page 1968, II, 186), but Degani 1997 places him in the Augustan age. At any rate, he is earlier than Petronius, since Philip of Thessalonica included him in his Garland: cf. Gow-Page 1968, I, xlv-xlix. Hor. epod. 8; 12. Themes similar to those in Horace reappear in Mart. 6.23; 11.29. Murgatroyd 2000, 346 n. 2 believes the contacts between Ovid and Petronius to be rather loose (he polemicizes with Walsh 1970, 42 n. 2; Barbieri 1983, 28-29). But we have already remarked that the context – prose and verse – must be regarded as an organic whole. The influence of Ov. am. 3.7 is well illustrated by Barbieri in the whole impotence episode; cf. also Fedeli 1989, 214. For our specific context (Encolpius’ speech at 132.9-10, between the two parts in verse), Ov. 3.7.67 and 3.7.17-20 are particulary close to Petronius.

Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) tence, namely poem 83 in the collection of the Priapea, which tradition attributes to Tibullus. It can hardly be determined whether this particular Priapeum is earlier or later than Petronius; at any rate the contacts between the two are evident, involving not merely Encolpius’ speech in prose,99 but the Sotadeans too: witness the insistence on the guilty member’s caput,100 which is referred to three times101 – the last two joined with a threat of punishment on the part of the speaker102, who, like Encolpius in his prose speech, addresses the offending part in the second person. In Petronius’ Sotadeans the theme of “beheading” the culprit hinges precisely on the metaphor which attributes a caput to the male member. The punishment threatened in the Priapeum is not so cruel, but it still affects the caput of the offending part; and the theme of its punishment, which does not appear in the numerous texts featuring sexual impotence103 and, like in Petronius, is not actually carried out, is the the most obvious link between Encolpius’ poem and this Priapeum. If we now recall the contact with the Sotadeans recited by the cinaedus at 23.3,104 we will recognize a further link uniting Petronius’ two poems in this meter, and perhaps even a clue pointing to the Priapeum’s chronological anteriority. The primary, physiological meaning of caput aperire (v. 7) is self-evident, but as this expression is joined with the mention of a supplicium, it will also imply a parodic allusion to the procedure of executions, as several scholars have not failed to remark.105 But the preceding mille operta rugis (v. 6) not only anticipates the impossibility to uncover the culprit’s head to perform its intended decapitation: it may also antiphrastically allude to a peculiarity of the god who is constantly in a state opposite to Encolpius’ present impotence: namely Priapus, who, according to Klebs’ over-a-century-old interpretation,106 directs the whole action and will soon be addressed by Encolpius in a prayer in verse.107 In a poem collected in the Priapea the god asks, in fact, not to be blamed because of his

99 100 101 102 103 104 105

106 107

Priap. 83.4-5 nec viriliter / iners senile penis extulit caput ~ Petr. 132.10 senectae… ultimae mihi lassitudinem imponeres. For caput = glans cf. Adams 1982, 72. In connection with the theme of impotence, the same metaphor also appears in Maximian. 5.98. As already noted by González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 272. Priap. 83.32 voret profunda fossa lubricum caput; 37 vagum sonante merseris caput luto. The other occurrence of caput is in the passage quoted above, note 99. With the exception of the unexplained hint in AP 12.232.6 " % $ Cf. above, text to note 53. Cf. already González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 271: “ei igitur supplicio necessario caput denudari aut aperiri debebat. Quod cum fieri nequisset, supplicii quoque exsecutio pariter non potuit”. More recently e.g. Stöcker 1969, 141; Courtney 1991, 34. Klebs 1889. Petr. 133.3. Cf. ch. XVIII. 87

Chapter IV mentula semper aperta,108 an expression which, besides primarily meaning “not covered by clothing”, will probably also contain a hint at a physiological state that is the opposite to the one described in Petronius’ Sotadeans.109 With the expression languidior coliculi… thyrso (v. 2), which may be a burlesque variant of the allusion to Bacchus’ thyrsus in the Priapeum we have just quoted,110 we touch the element nuancing and enriching our Sotadeans’ epic parody, which is the only aspect usually noticed.111 I am referring to language and style. We hardly need to emphasize this expression’s remoteness from epic solemnity, which is made clear by the use of the diminutive and given further emphasis by both the closing of the diphthong, typical of colloquial language (coliculi),112 and the transfer to humble horticulture of a term (thyrsus) which, when referred to Bacchus, enjoyed right of citizenship in lofty poetry. At line 3 trepido male dabat usum is also colloquial in itself, but a significant interference of the Virgilian model supporting the parody of epic may be assumed.113 A proverbial114 (and therefore colloquial) flavor may be detected at line 5 in the expression metu frigidior rigente bruma,115 which is significantly paralleled in prose in Quartilla’s episode, not long before the Sotadeans at 23.3.116 The idea of cold is often paired with sexual impotence, and it also appears in this connection in some of the poetical compositions we have quoted for their closeness to Encolpius’ Sotadeans.117 The idea of cold fitted numerous associations, all connected with, or at least not distant from, that of impotence: with fear (explicitly 108 109

110 111 112 113 114 115 116

117

88

Priap. 9.13 nec mihi sit crimen, quod mentula semper aperta est. This is hardly the place to discuss the date of the Priapea. I will only say that, like Rankin and Richlin, I am not convinced by the conclusions drawn by Buchheit 1962; more on this in ch. XVIII. It is probably no coincidence that shortly before the passage quoted in the preceding note Bacchus’ thyrsus is mentioned (Priap. 9.11 quis Bacchum gracili vestem praetendere thyrso). The thyrsus mentioned by Encolpius in his Sotadeans (132.8.2) is much less noble – a cabbage stem. As we have already remarked (above, note 96), though the reference is to Encolpius’ person, it must surely be extended to his recalcitrant member. Cf. preceding note. Scholars almost invariably limit themeselves to emphasizing the opposition of epic tone and burlesque content. This attitude is typically represented by Sandy 1969, 297-298. Cf. Adams 1982, 26-27 for caulis (colis) in the sense of mentula. I will stress once more that in Petronius the reference is to Encolpius, not merely to his member. Cf. Verg. Aen. 3.735 trepido male numen amicum, quoted by Bettini 1982, 86. Cf. Otto 1890, 59. Cf. Dehon 2001, 316 and n. 6. Petr. 19.3 frigidior hieme Gallica (here because of fear). Cotrozzi, in Aragosti-CosciCotrozzi 1988, 73 correctly remarks: “l’immagine del frigus prelude a quella della morte su cui si insisterà nei frammenti successivi”. Ov. am. 3.7.13 tacta tamen veluti gelida mea membra cicuta; Priap. 83.29 annuo gelu (referred to an old woman); Maximian. 5.35 derigui; 60 frigus.

Petronius’ Sotadeans (Petr. 23.3; 132.8) mentioned here), sterility, old age, death.118 The association of cold with impotence and death appears twice in Petronius: here (frigidior rigente119 bruma / confugerat in viscera… motifero timore) and once more, significantly, in Quartilla’s episode;120 besides, the equation of impotence with death is a truly pervasive leitmotif in the whole context in which Encolpius’ Sotadeans appear.121 This theme, well-attested both before and after Petronius,122 plays a crucial role in the novel, especially in the Circe episode, where the opposite and complementary association of recovered virility with resurrection also appears: Encolpius will be brought back to life by Mercury psychopomp himself, just like the mythological hero Protesilaus.123 Finally, it is hard to miss the stylistic level of furciferae (v. 8), which, despite the bold transfer to the feminine, is strongly reminiscent of colloquial language and comedy.124 Its pairing with another compound word of similar formation (mortifero), which enjoys right of citizenship in high-style poetry,125 may be taken as a symbol of the masterly blend of literary levels and tones found in this poem.

118 119

120 121 122

123 124

125

For these associations see Dehon 2001. It seems excessive to see in rigente a mischievous allusion to the impotent Encolpius’ incapability to become “rigid”, as done by Murgatroyd 2000, 348 and Dehon 2001, 317. It is true that rigeo, rigidus often refer to erection (also in Petr. 134.11 nisi illud tam rigidum reddidero quam cornu); these and related words are also employed, however, to convey the idea of a “cold” that extinguishes all erotic ardor. Cf. e.g. Hor. epod. 8.17 num minus nervi rigent (misunderstood by Murgatroyd 2000, 348 n. 11); Maximian. 5.35 derigui, quantusque fuit calor ille recessit. Petr. 20.2 inguina mea mille iam mortibus frigida. As rightly emphasized by Murgatroyd 2000, 347-348, 350, 351. Cf. e.g Ov. am. 3.7.65 nostra tamen iacuere, velut praemortua membra; Maximian. 5.83 ast ubi dilecti persensit funera membri; 103 hinc velut exposito meritam te funere plango; 154 me velut expletis deserit exequiis. Also Automedon’s epigram quoted in note 96. Petr. 140.12. Cf. app. II, with the texts and the reference to Bowersock 1994, 111-113. The attempts to find different nuances in the word are hardly convincing: cf. e.g. González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 272: “quippe quae egeat furca, qua sublevetur”; Murgatroyd 2000, 348 n. 17: “furcifera might play ironically on the sense of ‘groin’ (only at schol. Hor. S. 1.2.9)”. Cf. e.g. Verg. Aen. 6.279 mortiferum... Bellum. 89

Chapter V Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3)* 34.7 … Complosit Trimalchio manus et ‘eheu’ inquit ‘ergo diutius vivit vinum quam homuncio; quare tangomenas faciamus. Vita vinum est…’ 8 Potantibus ergo et accuratissime nobis lautitias mirantibus larvam argenteam attulit servus sic aptatam, ut articuli eius vertebraeque laxatae in omnem partem flecterentur. 9 Hanc cum super mensam semel iterumque abiecisset et catenatio mobilis aliquot figuras exprimeret, Trimalchio adiecit: 10

‘eheu nos miseros, quam totus homuncio nil est! sic erimus cuncti, postquam nos auferet Orcus. Ergo vivamus, dum licet esse bene.

35.1 Laudationem ferculum est insecutum plane non pro expectatione magnum. 34.10 HL(=lmrtp) 2 sic : nil

55.1 Comprobamus nos factum et quam in praecipiti res humanae essent vario sermone garrimus. 2 ‘Ita’ inquit Trimalchio ‘non oportet hunc casum sine inscriptione transire’ statimque codicillos poposcit et non diu cogitatione distorta haec recitavit: 3

‘quod non expectes ex transvero fit et supra nos Fortuna negotia curat. Quare da nobis vina Falerna, puer’.

4 Ab hoc epigrammate coepit poetarum esse mentio… 55.3 H 2 supra Heinsius: super negotium L

1-2 L(=lmrtp)

Chapter V 1. The poems recited by Trimalchio during the Cena may be regarded as specimens of the wealthy freedman’s literary production, since, in a passage occurring half way between the first and the second, Petronius drops the hint that he harbored literary pretensions.1 These, then, are not poems that can be attributed to Encolpius, either in his capacity of acting character or of narrator expressing poetical comments on the facts and situations he recounts, and at times playing the role of intermediary between the author and the reader.2 Even though this is just one of the many brush strokes that contribute to paint the nature and personality of this unforgettable character,3 we are therefore justified in regarding these poems as an expression of their author’s individual temperament and social condition;4 actually, given their undoubtedly low poetic worth, which certainly corresponds to Petronius’ intentions, they should primarily be regarded and analyzed in the frame of a widespread social phenomenon, not merely from the strictly literary point of view. Trimalchio’s longest poem5 will be studied in the next chapter; in this we shall analyze the two shorter compositions, which in many ways are those that best illustrate the author’s personality. The first point to be made is that they can hardly be read in isolation, since they are part of an intricate web connecting them with each other and with the overall architecture of the Cena. These two short poems express, we might say, Trimalchio’s whole philosophy of life: his unreserved acceptance of the carpe diem attitude, in the face of overhanging and inescapable death and of unpredictable and unresistable fortune. The foremost means to exorcise the resulting distress is wine, and, as we shall see, food too. The theme of death permeates the whole Cena from end to end;6 but the urge to a vital reaction marks the funda* 1

2 3

4 5

6

92

A version of this chapter has appeared with the title I due epigrammi di Trimalchione (Petr. Sat. 34.10, 55.3), “Prometheus” 30, 2004, 43-66. Petr. 41.6 puer speciosus… poemata domini sui acutissima voce traduxit. It should not escape us that only the poems recited by Trimalchio himself are reported. The hint at the page boy reciting more of his verse aims to let the reader know that his poetrywriting was habitual. As I believe him to do at 132.15. See ch. XVII. Eumolpus’ poetic compositions are also introduced as specimens of his literary production, but unlike Trimalchio he is more than anything a poet, though his figure is also finely nuanced. See ch. X. Occasionally poems are recited by other characters too (e.g. Agamemnon, Quartilla, Tryphaena), with no hint at a habit to compose poetry. As correctly remarked by Slater 1990a, 161. The senarii at 55.6 As rightly remarked by Aragosti 1995, 258 n. 53, the sententious character of the “epigram” at 55.3 anticipates the closely following longer poem, which Trimalchio ascribes to Publilius Syrus (cf. Publ. Syr. sent. 171 fortuna vitrea est, tum cum splendet frangitur, conceptually close to Petr. 55.3). See, among others, Arrowsmith 1966; Grondona 1980, 9-75; Herzog 1989; Gagliardi, 1989.

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) mental passages of the episode, also defining its structural cornerstones. At the beginning of the Cena the poem at 34.10 and its immediate context introduce the theme of the ineluctability of death, and the consequent stimulus to enjoy the fleeting moment, with linguistic signals which will reappear in the middle, in connection with the verse at 55.3, and once more at the end, in chapters 72 and 73.7 Within the narrower frame of the prose context in which the first poem is embedded, equally clear linguistic signals emphasize the close connection between Trimalchio’s words that precede the appearance of the silver larva and the verse that follows it: both the prose speech and the poem begin with the same word (eheu) and both contain a peculiar and eye-catching word: homuncio.8 Actually, Petronius explicitly presents the poem as a continuation of, and an addition to, the prose speech (adiecit). 2. After Trimalchio’s prose speech a servant brings in a miniature silver skeleton with disjointed articulations, which the host repeatedly throws on the table, thus making it take on different postures, before reciting the verse at 34.10 This was a current custom in Petronius’ time, as amply confirmed by archaeological evidence. All the scholars that have studied our text have referred to archaeology to some extent, but the one who has most organically investigated the theme of the skeleton at the banquet is undoubtedly Katherine Dunbabin, whose essay amounts to an exhaustive monograph on the subject, taking into account the testimonies not merely of archaeology, but also of literature.9 In the Greco-Roman world this idea is closely connected with the widespread theme of the carpe diem, understood as a vital reaction to death’s inescapability. In Petronius himself it is clearly expressed in the words the handmaid directs to the inconsolable widow of Ephesus: ipsum te iacentis corpus admonere debet ut vivas.10 The corpse, or – in Trimalchio’s case – its representation, reinforces the drive toward the enjoyment of life, as long as it lasts.

7

8

9 10

Petr. 34.7 quare tangomenas faciamus ~ 55.3.3 quare da nobis vina Falerna ~ 73.6 itaque tangomenas faciamus; 34.10.3 ergo vivamus 72.2 cum sciamus nos morituros esse, quare non vivamus? The theme of wine as vital remedy against death is introduced from the very beginning: 34.7 vita vinum est. On the theme and the relations linking the quoted passages cf. Deonna-Renard 1961, 99-104; Grondona 1980, 14-17; Gagliardi 1989, 20 n. 35. Baldwin 1979, 145 appears to be the only scholar to realize that the verse picks up the preceding prose speech; Grondona 1980, 15 only notes that both begin with eheu. Connors 1998, 52 lays emphasis on a questionable connection of auferet (34.10.2, referred to Orcus) with the ferculum at 35.1. This, according to her, would be a symbol of mortality, in that it represents the Zodiac. She does not mention the much clearer connection the author himself signals between Trimalchio’s prose speech and his verse. Dunbabin 1986. Petr. 111.12; cf. Mart. 5.64.5-6. 93

Chapter V Herodotus relates an Egyptian custom which consisted in bringing the image of a corpse into the banqueting hall, while at the same time urging to enjoy the fleeting moment through the pleasure afforded by wine and food.11 His testimony is confirmed by later sources, particularly by Plutarch, who twice hints at the same Egyptian custom.12 In one of these texts13 we read the expression , which makes us think that the image of the corpse shown to the banqueters might have been in the shape of a skeleton.14 The main Latin literary testimony of this custom is precisely our Petronian text; but, as already hinted, it is amply confirmed by archaeological evidence. In the first place we shall mention some miniature human skeletons with disjointed articulations, and so able to take on different postures, like the one described by Petronius. Dunbabin lists seven such miniatures;15 of these only one can be dated, since it comes from Pompeii (it is now in the Arhaeological Museum at Naples): its terminus ante quem brings us close to Petronius’ times. It is also made of the same metal as Trimalchio’s: silver, the others being made of a baser material: bronze.16 Though only the model skeleton from Pompeii can be dated with any accuracy, Dunbabin concludes her analysis of all the available material (including vases, gems, and other supports) by fixing with no uncertainty the pe11

12

13 14 15 16

94

Herod. 2.78 ! " ! # " $ Plut. Is. et Os. 17, 357F ; conv. sept. sap. 2, 148AB. Dunbabin 1986, 209-210 believes Herodotus’ and Plutarch’s testimony to reflect a real Egyptian custom. Wöhrle 1990, 293-294 adduces and discusses two ancient Egyptian texts in which similar ideas may be detected, but warns against their interpretation along the lines of the Greco-Roman carpe diem. They advocate no so much the enjoyment of life in view of impending death, but rather the consciousness of one’s mortality even in the midst of pleasures. Wöhrle (p. 295) recognizes a similar attitude in Plutarch’s second passage (on which more below). As for Sil. It. 13.474-476, which Dunbabin 1986, 208 refers (with Lucian. de luctu 21, already quoted by Burman 1743, I, 194) to the same Egyptian custom, Wöhrle (pp. 298-299) persuasively contends that it should be rather connected with the custom to offer food to the dead. Plut. conv. sept. sap. 2, 148A. Cf. Wöhrle 1990, 296. % may be a dried up corpse (in this case a mummy), but also a skeleton. Dunbabin 1986, 196. In connection with Petronius see also Maiuri 1945, 165-166. The fact that only one of these miniature skeletons is made of silver confirms that Trimalchio is ostentatiously displaying his wealth. In his house even the humblest articles are made of silver: 27.3 (matella); 28.8 (lanx); 29.8 (Lares); 31.11 and 70.7 (craticula); 33.1 (pinna); 35.6 (clibanus); 50.1 (corona); 70.8 (pelvis). These are listed by Panayotakis 1995, 70 n. 43. More passages should be added: 31.10; 34.3; 56.8; 67.2; 73.6. Trimalchio himself confesses his predilection for silver (52.1 in argento plane studiosus sum); and there is more silver in his ostiarius’ cell than in anybody else’s estate (37.8).

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) riod in which the representation of the skeleton at the banquet was in vogue in the two centuries astride the birth of Christ.17 Which was the meaning of the skeleton for the ancients, particularly in this connection? A still basic essay on this topic was written in the XVIII century by Lessing, who maintained that it represented not Death in itself, but rather the larva, i.e. the spirit of the evil dead, represented as a skeleton, which scares and persecutes the living.18 This is undoubtedly the term’s primary meaning, documented by Petronius himself, who in two passages of his work uses the word in a sense not far removed from the original one.19 Lessing maintains that in time the word ended up meaning simply “skeleton”; he was followed by Dunbabin, who at any rate correctly remarks that it never became a purely technical word with the strictly anatomical meaning the Greek acquired.20 I think it possible to take a further step by asserting that, even when larva denotes the skeleton, the original meaning never completely disappears. In reality the authors who use this term in the sense of “skeleton” are no more than two:21 Petronius in our passage, and Apuleius in his Apology.22 Trimalchio’s miniature skeleton has disjointed articulations and can take on different postures, like living people. Peculiarly enough, however, Dunbabin, after establishing a distinction between the representations of the human skeleton as motionless and inanimate and those that impart to it attitudes and activities of the living, places Trimalchio’s model in the first class, and refers it to the Egyptian custom to introduce the image of a corpse into the banquet hall;23 she actually goes as far as expressing the opinion that the custom attested by Petronius was probably derived from Egypt.24 As for the skeletons represented as perform17 18 19

20 21

22

23 24

Dunbabin 1986, 193. Lessing 1983, 68-71. For this meaning of larva see TLL VII 2, 977, 82-978, 46. Cf. also Thaniel 1973, 186-187. Cf. especially Petr. 62.10 in larvam (“with the appearance of a ghost”). At Petr. 44.5 larvas means rather “puppets”, “clowns”. For these two meanings see TLL VII 2, 978, 47-55. Dunbabin 1986, 187-188. Even though their usage is upheld by the Greek equivalent given (with others) for larva in the Glossaries. Cf. TLL VII 2, 978, 57-67. We may add, at most, Priap. 32.12 pallorem maciemque larvalem (of a girl all skin and bones); Apul. met. 1.6 larvale simulacrum (of a man ad miseram maciem deformatus). Apul. apol. 63 (where sceletus and larva apparently are indifferently used. At ch. 61 the same object is called only sceletus). Shortly after (cap. 64) Apuleius uses larva in the sense of “evil spirit”. Dunbabin 1986, 208. Dunbabin 1986, 210-211. Friedlaender 1891, 214, followed by Ernout 1923, 30 n. 2, already remarked that in a bustling port like Pozzuoli (if indeed it is the Graeca urbs referred to at 81.3) it would be hardly surprising to encounter an Egyptian custom. 95

Chapter V ing various activities, for example those on the famous cups from Boscoreale, now at the Louvre, that we shall presently discuss, Dunbabin regards them as a grotesque parody of the living and their actions, and – rather inconsistently with what she had previously stated – contends that the various postures taken on by skeleton models like the one described by Petronius were intended to serve the same parodical purpose.25 She rules out, a priori, the possibility that the idea of the animated skeleton may be rooted in popular tradition and that the evil spirits called larvae might have been imagined to have a skeleton-like appearance.26 This latter statement seems untenable, at least as far as Petronius’ time is concerned, in view of a contemporary’s testimony. As already remarked by Lessing,27 there is a passage in Seneca which clearly proves that at the popular level the larvae frightening the superstitious were believed to look like skeletons.28 The same idea is attested in the Greek-speaking area too, under the empire.29 The previously quoted passage from Apuleius’ Apology proves beyond doubt that, even when larva refers to the human skeleton, the negative nuance connected with the original meaning has not completely disappeared. One of the charges imputed to Apuleius by his opponents concerned the fact that he possessed a macilentam vel omnino evisceratam formam diri cadaveris… prorsus horribilem et larvalem; and he does not deny that such an object would amount to an evidens signum magiae.30 From this passage Dunbabin draws the correct conclusion that in the II century A.D. the original meaning of larva, “evil spirit”,

25

26 27 28

29

30

96

Wöhrle 1990, 298 thinks that Petronius alluded to the passage of Herodotus quoted above (note 11). Dunbabin 1986, 215. Kämpfer 1994, 239 goes even farther: he believes that Trimalchio means to amuse his guests by having the skeleton take on the attitudes and movements of a drunk man. See my objections below, note 35. Dunbabin 1986, 189-190. Lessing 1983, 69. Sen. ep. 24.18 nemo tam puer est ut Cerberum timeat et tenebras et larvalem habitum nudis ossibus cohaerentium. The fears mocked by Seneca do not concern skeletons in themselves i.e. inert bone remains, but evil beings associated with the lower world (as Cerberus, mentioned at the same title), whose description leaves no doubts as to their skeleton-like appearance. The same idea is found already a few generations before Seneca: cf. Ov. Ibis 144 insequar et vultus ossea forma tuos. A part of the tradition offers larva instead of forma; but the passage is pertinent with either reading. Lucian. philops. 32 tells a story about some young men who wanted to look like ghosts to frighten Democritus, and put on skull-like masks for this purpose ( ). This does not necessarily mean that the idea went back to Democritus’ time, but it was clearly established in Lucian’s. The latter often represents the souls of the dead dwelling in Hades in the shape of skeletons: Men. sive nekyom. 15; dial. mort. 25. AP 11.92.4 (Lucillius) employs the expression ! in reference to spirits of the dead (looking like skeletons), not to bone remains. Apul. apol. 63.

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) had unquestionably resurfaced;31 it must be added, however, that this very text unambiguously confirms that evil spirits were thought to look like skeletons. In Petronius’ time Trimalchio’s skeleton model surely did not raise the suspicion of being used for black magic. We may add that, if our Petronian passage can be associated with the roughly contemporary cups from Boscoreale, the skeleton does not represent the soul (much less the evil spirit) of the deceased, but simply his mortal remains.32 Is then this Petronian text the only one in which the original meaning of larva has totally disappeared? We should not forget that Trimalchio’s model skeleton can be moved.33 Dunbabin, as we saw, believes its movement to be a parodical imitation of the motions and attitudes of the living;34 it is easy to retort, however, that from Herodotus through Petronius and down to Plutarch what is emphasized is not that skeletons are like us (if anything, they were), but that we shall be like them.35 We may also refer to Lucian’s text we have already quoted in a footnote:36 some young men, who want to pass themselves off as ghosts, surround the philosopher Democritus jumping and dancing with skull-like masks on their faces; and a moving skeleton-like ghost is described by Ovid too, in another passage already quoted in a footnote.37 It is not impossible, then, that in Trimalchio’s skeleton’s acrobatics there might lurk a weak, residual trace of the original idea conveyed by the term larva, which survives to some extent at all times. If, as we have seen, this nuance clearly resurfaces in the only other author that uses the word in 31 32

33

34 35

36 37

Dunababin 1986, 248-249. In the Boscoreale cup A, indeed, a skeleton holds a butterfly in its hand, with the inscription & . The butterfly is a current symbol for the soul. See Dunbabin 1986, 226 and fig. 37 (p. 225). According to Panayotakis 1995, 68 Trimalchio’s larva functions as a puppet drawn by strings. He refers to Cic. de orat. 3.220 for exprimo in the meaning of “take on a theatrical posture” (in reality, however, in that passage the object of the verb is verba). Rosati 1983, 215 n. 7 limits himself to the remark that the larva changes postures “quasi un neurospaston”. Dunbabin 1986, 215. Cf. above, text to note 25. Herod. 2.78 ; Petr. 34.10.2 sic erimus cuncti; Plut. Is. et Os. 17, 357F ! ; conv. sept. sap. 2, 148B . Cf. also AP 11.38.6 , on which see below, note 56. If anything, the skeletons performing human activities represented on vases and other supports mean to offer a lively symbolism of man’s mortality, which he can never shake off in all his activities (“questa morte che ci accompagna”, in Cesare Pavese’s poetic words). This is explicitly conveyed by inscriptions like the one on the Boscoreale cup B: . It is a thinly veiled , similar to the explicit one in the famous mosaic of the Museo Nazionale Romano, which has this inscription under the figure of a reclining skeleton. Lucian. philops. 32 (cf. above, note 29) ! ' $ Ov. Ib. 144 insequar et vultus ossea forma tuos (above, note 28). 97

Chapter V the sense of “skeleton” – Apuleius in his Apology –, we may be authorized to suppose that it never completely disappeared. Surely, the use of a term such as larva, which carried overtones unmistakbly connecting it with native folklore, makes it more likely that Trimalchio’s act is somehow reminiscent of ancient beliefs – even though transformed into an appeal to the carpe diem –, rather than merely aping a custom imported from Egypt, where we should not forget that the corpse brought into the banquet hall did not move, but lay rigid and inanimate in its coffin.38 According to Dunbabin39 this custom (a corpse or skeleton shown to the banqueters) was followed in time by the representations of skeletons – inanimate at first, animated later – on banquet chattels. In her opinion Trimalchio’s act (which she connects with the Egyptian custom) was by then out out of fashion. What she does not see is that, even if we admit some relation with the Egyptian custom attested by Herodotus and Plutarch, the animated skeleton model amounts to an epochal innovation. It seems more justified to surmise that the fad of the skeleton (or corpse) model in the banquet hall underwent an inner evolution, which, in the Roman area, was influenced by the beliefs connected with the term larva. Indeed, the only movable miniature skeleton which can be dated – and the only one made of silver – is the one from Pompeii, which is nearly coeval with Trimalchio; Petronius’ freedman then, was anything but old-fashioned. Dunbabin asserts40 that elaborate representations like those of the skeletons on the Boscoreale cups were too complex for the “old-fashioned” Trimalchio. This is not manifestly impossible, in view of the way the wealthy but ignorant freedman is characterized in Petronius’ novel. We should not forget, however, that some scenes represented on the Boscoreale cups were hardly foreign to Trimalchio’s circle. On cup B a standing skeleton pours a libation on a lying skeleton, which is reduced to a heap of bones.41 Trimalchio’s friend, Habinnas, reports taking part in a funeral banquet in which one half of every drink was poured on the dead man’s bones.42 The scene is then a banquet, the same the two cups refer to, as Dunbabin herself has clearly shown. We should finally add that there are further contacts between the Cena and the treatment of the skeleton theme in the visual arts.43

38 39 40 41 42 43

98

Cf. Herod. 2.78 (above, note 11). Dunbabin 1986, 233. Dunbabin 1986, 230. Cf. Dunbabin 1986, 226 (fig. 39, p. 227). Petr. 65.11. Cf. Dunbabin 1986, 206-208 (a sarcophagus from Herakleion, I century A.D., on which, besides a skeleton and other figures, there is a sundial: Trimalchio has a horologium in the triclinium [29.6] and another one, probably a sundial, on his tomb [71.11]); cf. also Dunbabin 1986, 228 (on the Boscoreale cup A, next to the skeleton representing the

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) 3. The three lines of 34.10 are clearly part of the accurate stage direction governing the Cena: they have certainly been prepared beforehand, to be recited after the appearance of the one-hundred-year-old wine and the silver skeleton.44 This is confirmed by the occurrence of the opening eheu and the term homuncio both in the verse and in the prose speech that Trimalchio utters after the “first act” (the arrival of the one-hundred-year-old wine). At this point he clearly has his next line, i.e the poem prepared for the “second act” (the play with the miniature skeleton), already in mind. The final seal is provided by the caption adiecit, which introduces the verse as a continuation of the previous speech. We have already called attention to these details. In the past the metrical pattern, joining two hexameters and one pentameter, has been regarded as problematic, to the point that some interpreters tried to “normalize” the poem either by expunging the last line or by inserting a pentameter after the first one;45 and even in times close to us this metrical sequence has been dubbed an “incongruous mixture”.46 In reality this combination is anything but rare in Greek and Latin metrical funerary inscriptions;47 it is normally

44

45

46

47

tragic poet Moschion, there is the inscription !' : cf. Petr. 80.9, and see ch. VIII). Cf. Sandy 1974, 332; Panayotakis 1995, 70. Walsh 1970, 128 equates the verse at 34.10 with that at 55.3; through both, he says, Trimalchio “consigns to immortality two incidents in the dinner” – in other words, he thinks both poems to be improvisations. This is surely untrue as far as 34.10 is concerned. Cf. also Courtney 2001, 85; Jensson 2004, 11. Slater 1990a, 161-162 rightly regards the first poem as the triumph of Trimalchio’s stage direction, the second as marking the beginning of his failure to control the events. See below. The opinion of Yeh 2007, 95-98, according to which the two “epigrams” recited by Trimalchio at 34.10 and 55.3 are part of one and the same poem, is totally groundless. The third line is graphically presented as prose by H, the only manuscript offering the complete text of the Cena. For the attempts at metrical “normalization” see Burman 1743, I, 196-197. Scaliger refrained from inserting a pentameter after the first hexameter (Tornaesius inserted quam fragilis tenero flamine vita cadit), but marked its alleged disappearance with asterisks. See also the apparatus of Bücheler 1862. Walsh 1970, 128. According to Paratore 1933, II, 106 the coupling of two hexameters and one pentameter is a consequence of improvisation and reveals the “crassa ignoranza di Trimalchione”. For the former see Kaibel 1878, 701, who, in the tabula metrica, lists nine inscriptions formed by two hexameters and one pentameter, plus one (no. 823) in which this pattern is doubled. Cf. also AP 13.15 (in AP 13.16 three hexameters are followed by one pentameter); in another inscription (no. 327 in Peek 1960) a normal elegiac couplet is followed by two hexameters and one pentameter. Cf. also Keil 1865, 559. For the latter (the Latin inscriptions) see e.g. CE 1105, 1179, 1260, 1292. Indeed, in many Latin epigraphical poems both hexameters and pentameters, which are often metrically defective like Trimalchio’s at 55.3, alternate without following a regular pattern: e.g. CE 880, 914, 924, 947, 965, 971, 986, 1007, 1009, 1019, 1039, 1058, 1081, 1187, 1188, 1190, 1206, 1216, 1223, 1224, etc. In view of this the opinion expressed by Yeh 2007, 524, 99

Chapter V not employed in literature and is generally regarded as denoting a low cultural level,48 and therefore fitting Trimalchio. This can undoubtedly be accepted, even though the level of ignorance betrayed by this metrical pattern should not be exaggerated. As pointed out by Smith,49 it appears even on tombs certainly not belonging to the most uncultured layers of the empire’s population. What can be reasonably inferred from Trimalchio’s lines is rather their closeness to funerary poetry, as represented not so much in literature as in the epitaphs for not necessarily uncultured people. This closeness concerns form, but, as we shall see, content too. As we have already hinted, the intertwining of social and literary aspects in Trimalchio’s “poetry” must be carefully kept in mind. If there is mockery on the part of the author, it is a subtle one; what would be perfectly acceptable in a poem so close to funerary inscriptions, becomes a conspicuous mark of defective culture and poetic ability shortly after, when Petronius, seemingly in passing, drops the hint at Trimalchio’s literary ambitions.50 With this the reader is warned, this time in advance, as to the way he should read and judge Trimalchio’s next “epigram”.51 The relations linking convivial and funerary poetry are indeed tight, as several scholars have not failed to remark,52 and as confirmed by the epigraphic material that has come down to us.53 Some of the scholars who correctly grasped the link connecting our poem with funerary poetry, however, have proceeded too far, in that they have seen in the word following the verse – laudationem – a reference to Trimalchio’s lines, regarded as so close to epitaphs as to amount to a veritable laudatio funebris.54 This is an untenable interpretation, both because it is difficult to imagine such a

48

49

50 51 52 53 54

100

according to which Trimalchio is trying to write metrically hybrid, but in all respects literary, poems, like those at Petr. 5 and 109.9-10, is untenable. After Bücheler 1862, 27 (“carmina… in sepulcris plebeiorum hominum inscripts”), cf., among others, Friedlaender 1891, 214 (“Grabinschriften ungebildeter Leute”); Cugusi 1967, 90 (“metro tipicamente popolare, comune fra le persone incolte”); Barnes 1971, 303-304 (speaking of “Trimelegiacs”); Slater 1990a, 162; etc. Smith 1975, 74. He calls attention to the fact that the sequence hexameter-hexameterpentameter is found on the tomb of a physician and his wife (558 Kaibel 1878 = 1736 Peek 1955, vv. 5-7). Their names were respecively Claudius Agathinus and Felicitas. Petr. 41.6. See above, text to note 1. The one at 55.3. See below. E.g. Grondona 1980, 16-17; Dunbabin 1986, 208. Cf. Lier 1904, 56-63; Lattimore 1942, 260-263. Not a few of the epigraphical poems quoted and discussed by these scholars are very close to Trimalchio’s verse. Already Burman 1743, I, 197: “possit hic capi pro laudatione funebri, quam stolidus Trimalchio, ad larvae conspectum, versibus istis peregit”; more recently Stöcker 1969, 93, who even supplies a word: laudationem ferculum est insecutum… This interpretation is upheld also by Grondona 1980, 17. Müller 1961 writes in the apparatus: “ante laudationem aliquid deesse suspicor”; these words disappear in his subsequent editions.

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) laudatio without someone in whose honor it is uttered, and because the guests’ praises to Trimalchio are a matter of course in the whole Cena, and are even denoted at times with the very term laudatio.55 As we said, the reader will learn, a few chapters later, that Trimalchio harbors poetic and literary ambitions. This implies that, besides the contacts with poetic forms intermediate between popular and literary production, like an epigram in the Anthologia Palatina already pointed out by Burman,56 we will be justified in seeking the influence of great literature too. Many of the most representative poets of ancient literature did not indeed disdain developing the topic of Trimalchio’s poem: the carpe diem theme, with an explicit or covert reference to impending death. The most obvious contacts have been repeatedly pointed out: for example, those with Catull. 5 or with Horace;57 other scholars refer to a famous Lucretian text in which man’s weakness and mortality are expressed with a term (homullis) which possibly suggested homuncio to Petronius.58 Contacts with poetry of a lower level, but still fully belonging in artistic literature, are not wanting either: suffice it to refer to the pseudo-Virgilian Copa’s last verse, where Death itself utters the same advice as Trimalchio’s poem.59 But Petronius may have meant to conceal a more mischievous blow to his character’s literary pretensions in a seemingly cryptic expression he has Trimalchio repeat at the beginning and at the end of the Cena, which is obviously made significant as a structural post by this very arrangement and, like his poem, may be said to synthesize the host’s whole philosophy of life: tangomenas faciamus.60 Burman already referred to a fragment of Alcaeus61 urging to drink, in 55

56

57 58

59 60 61

Cf. e.g. Petr. 34.5; 36.4 (plausum); 39.6; 41.8; 48.7 (laudationibus); 52.8. Fuchs’ supplement laudationem is unnecessary; there is no need to specify who bestows the praise – who else but Trimalchio’s guests? Burman 1743, I, 194; more recently Stöcker 1969, 121; Wöhrle 1990 n. 30: I am referring to AP 11.38, attributed to Polemon, king of Pontus (vv. 5-6 / " . Dunbabin 1986, 251 informs that these lines appeared engraved on a gem next to the figure of a skull and a table loaded with food). I refer to Cugusi 1967, 90 and Gagliardi 1989, 14 n. 16, as representative of a great number of scholars. Since Bourdelot (see Burman 1743, I, 197); then, e.g., Ernout 1923, 30 n. 2, who mentions Anacreontic themes already parodied by Lucretius. The passage is Lucr. 3.912915 hoc etiam faciunt ubi discubuere tenentque / pocula saepe homines et inumbrant ora coronis, / ex animo ut dicant ‘brevis est hic fructus homullis; / iam fuerit neque post umquam revocare licebit’. Lucretius is undoubtedly referring to impending death, as made clear by what follows. Copa 38 mors aurem vellens ‘vivite’ ait ‘venio’. Cf. Franzoi 1988, 98-99. Petr. 34.7 = 73.6. Cf. above, note 7. Burman 1743, I, 192. The reference is to Alc. 347.1 Voigt . Burman suggests that Trimalchio, whose knowledge of 101

Chapter V which a verb appeared – – which may have caused the semiliterate Trimalchio to make up this pseudo-Greek verbal form.62 But the Greek poet, immediately after the imperative , expresses the reason for this recommendation: . If Trimalchio has understood these words, which primarily hint at the heat of the hour and of the season, as a reference to the heavenly revolutions ( ), and thus to the inexorable passing of time, it would amount to a strong support of the interpretation of tangomenas faciamus as “let’s drink”; and in turn, such an allusion to Alcaeus at this point would foreshadow the poem at 34.10, which urges to enjoy the pleasure of the banquet while we still have the time. With a single stroke, Petronius would have illustrated both Trimalchio’s lofty poetic ambitions and his complete lack of the necessary linguistic and literary preparation. Many of Petronius’ interpreters insist on the poor literary worth of Trimalchio’s poems. As far as the meter of 34.10 is concerned, we have already observed that the target is not so much the popular pattern in itself, as the ambition of someone who wishes to pass himself off as a poet in spite of the Muses, though not being able to rise above the amateurish level that metric pattern betrays. Trimalchio incarnates Horace’s complaint: scribimus indocti doctique po-

62

102

Greek was rudimentary, meant tangomenas to be the participle of , and an allusion to Alceus’ verse, which was in fact an invitation to drink. He was followed by Jahn 1867, 427 n. 3. Bücheler 1862 goes as far as writing in the text (following Müncker: see the apparatus); but his later editions have tengomenas. See lastly Cavalca 2001, 172, with further bibliography. Possibly the Greek form crossed itself with the Latin verb tangere (cf. 66.3 de melle me usque tetigi). Cf. Perrochat 1939, 20. Even Cicero was not above using humorous Greco-Latin hybrid forms (e.g. Cic. Att. 1.16.13 facteon). Not all have accepted this explanation, and the passage remains a difficult one. We should at any rate remember that the Asian Trimalchio (75.10) was probably not completely ignorant of Greek, at least at the colloquial level (cf. indeed 48.8), even though command of literary language was surely something else, as proved by the peculiar references to Homer made by Trimalchio in the very context in which he uses Greek (48.7). At 34.7, which, unlike the later passage (73.6), is transmitted not merely by H but also by L, this branch of tradition omits the sentence containing tangomenas faciamus. Alcaeus’ passage was at any rate well-known: according to Macr. Sat. 7.15.13 it was often sung and had been imitated by Eratosthenes (Macr. 7.15.23). Cf. indeed Eratosth. Erigone fr. 2 Rosokoki ' # (Rosokoki 1995, 41). Tangomenas would then mean “wet”, “drenched” (scil. epulas or potiones, as suggested by Smith 1975, 73). It is not necessary to correct in order to obtain a plural masculine form. What Trimalchio means is no doubt “let’s drink” (“madidemus nos”, as paraphrased by Burman 1743, I, 192). Page 19653, 303 believes that Alcaeus’ is echoed not merely by Petronius’ tangomenas, but also by Hor. c. 4.12.22-23 non ego te 3 meis / immunem meditor tinguere poculis. The same scholar (Page 1965 , 302) translates with “for the Star is coming round”. Besides the prevailing theme of the heat of the hour a hint to heavenly revolutions may in fact be there too.

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) emata passim.63 But, aside from the meter, it is not difficult to find fault with this “wonderful awful poem”, as Slater calls it,64 to the point that the expression “marked literary inferiority” has been employed in reference to Trimalchio’s poetic compositions.65 One more momentous linguistic censure can be added to the numerous blames addressed by scholars to this poem, which we have reported in a footnote. Trimalchio employs, in reference to death – actually to all-abducting Orcus – a verb (aufero) which is often found in high poetry in this connection.66 But we should not miss his inability to keep the correct verbal relations: sic erimus cuncti, postquam nos auferet Orcus, instead of abstulerit.67 It is true that poetry enjoys more freedom than prose, but the contrast between Trimalchio’s ambition to attain lofty style and the linguistic level betraying his lowly origin and defective culture should not be missed.68 Another detail that places Trimalchio half way between lofty poetry and archaic notions of undoubtedly popular and to some extent preliterary nature is his reference to Orcus.69 In literature Orcus tends to be identified with the Greek Hades, or even with the lower world itself, whereas in native conception he is a demon of death, who not only receives people in the lower world but forcibly carries them off. In itself this would be no unequivocal sign of the popular mold 63 64

65

66

67

68 69

Hor. epist. 2.1.117. Slater 1990a, 161. Slater lays emphasis on the low literary level of homuncio and on the displeasing effect of two monosyllables at the end of the first hexameter. Cf. also Connors 1998, 52. This detail had already been noticed by Cugusi 1967, 90 n. 32, who also stresses the inelegance of the pyrrhic foot b n at the end of the pentameter and of the spondee heu at the beginning of the first hexameter. The pyrrhic foot at the end of the pentameter is regarded as a metric shortcoming by Sochatoff 1969-1970, 342 too. See the polemic reply of Barnes 1970-1971, 255 and of Woodall 1970-1971, 257. The latter calls attention to the fact that pyrrhic feet are found at the end of pentameters in Ovid too. The pentameter is metrically correct for Baldwin 1970-1971, 254 too. Sochatoff 1969-1970, 342, with immediate reference to the poem at 55.3, but clearly inclusive of the one at 34.10 too. See also the debate among Canadian and American scholars referred to in the preceding note. As already remarked by González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 148, who quotes Prop. 2.20.18 and 2.11.4, as well as Verg. Aen. 6.429. Cf. also Huxley 1970-1971, 69, who quotes Hor. c. 2.16.29. Postquam is seldom employed with the future; but, in the few cases it is, a future in the main clause has a future perfect as its counterpart in the clause introduced by postquam: Cato de agr. 65.1 post diem tertium quam lecta erit, facito; cf. Liv. 31.7.7 quinto die quam (= postquam) ab Corintho solverit naves, in Italiam perveniet. Cf. KühnerStegmann 1971, II, 358. The usage in this Petronian passage does not seem to be paralleled in all the span of Latinity: cf. TLL X 2, 251, 34-35 (recording a very late case of postquam with the future, but with the present in the main clause). It should be added that even the verb aufero referred to Orcus might be the echo of a popular cliché. See below, text to note 71. For more details see Setaioli 1997, with the literature quoted and discussed. 103

Chapter V of Trimalchio’s poem, since the conception of Orcus as an abducting demon often appears in Horace too. He even depicts Orcus while mowing off the high as well as the low – an idea seemingly very close to the Medieval notion of the scythe of Death.70 In all probability, however, Trimalchio is not harking back to literary models like Horace, or at least he is influenced not merely by these, but also – and probably to a greater extent – by popular ideas connected with old native beliefs. This is confirmed by the fact that his friend Echion, in a long speech which amounts to a veritable concoction of popular expressions and ideas, twice refers to an Orcus conceived as a power annhilating and carrying off everything – both the evil and the good that people have attained in their lifetimes; he even employs the same verb as Trimalchio’s poem: auferre.71 4. The incitement contained in the final pentameter of 34.10 ends with an expression that some of Petronius’ early interpreters regarded as an intentional double entendre; the infinitive in esse bene can indeed be understood as a form either of sum or of edo.72 In times closer to us this interpretation was picked up by several scholars, none of whom refers to those who had already proposed it centuries before.73 I would like to point out, as a personal contribution, that an athematic form of edo does appear in the Satyrica, and – what is more – it is placed in Trimalchio’s mouth. Shortly after his next poetic performance he says: aliquis ovillam est et tunicam habet.74 There is no doubt that the epigrams and the funerary inscriptions developing the same theme as Trimalchio’s poem hint at drinking more often than they do at eating; but eating appears several times too, joined with drinking,75 or even by itself. A Greek metrical epitaph, to which 70

71 72 73

74

75

104

Hor. epist. 2.2.178-179 si metit Orcus / grandia cum parvis, non exorabilis auro. In Horace the image of mowing appears to be suggested by the context, where granaries and fields are mentioned; it is probably accidental, rather than intrinsically linked with Orcus. Cf. Setaioli 1997, 448. Petr. 45.9 quamdiu vixerit, habebit stigmam, nec illam nisi Orcus delebit; 46.7 artificium… quod illi auferre non possit nisi Orcus. Cf. the interpretations collected in Burman 1743, I, 69. Burman himself rejected the idea. Huxley 1970-1971, 69; Baldwin 1970-1971, 254; Baldwin 1979, 145; Bracht BranhamKinney 1997, 31 n. 3; Connors 1998, 52. Stöcker 1969, 120 and n. 3 takes esse to be only the infintive of edo, as shown by his placing a comma between esse and bene. Though H, the most authoritative manuscript, punctuates between these two words, this interpretation cannot be accepted; if it were so, bene should necessarily be taken with vivamus, but this would destroy the pregnant meaning of this verb, which will be shown to have a pivotal function in this poem. See below. Petr. 56.5. Edo appears two more times: at 66.3 (edi) and again at 141.9 (ed re: third person plural of the perfect: a parody of the historians’ style). Not surprisingly, comedo is used more often (seven times). E.g. AP 11.38.5-6 $$$ (cf. above, note 56). Cf. also several of the epitaphs discussed by Lier 1904, 56-63 and Lattimore 1942, 260-263 (above, note 53).

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) we shall come back below, urges to live (in the same pregnant meaning as in Trimalchio’s verse), because in the world of the dead it is not possible to eat well.76 Esse bene in the sense of “enjoying oneself” is a colloquial expression,77 which appears elsewhere in Petronius with no double meaning;78 but it is not disdained by artistic poetry,79 and therefore it does not contribute to the undoubtedly low literary level of the composition. What prevents it from rising above the hackneyed production known to us primarily through the funerary inscriptions is rather the accumulation of features like the esse double entendre, the metrical pattern, and the other details we have illustrated. A clear confirmation is offered by Seneca, in which the philosopher – a contemporary of Petronius’ – humorously apes those who, like Trimalchio,80 regard philosophy as no more than empty verbiage.81 In a few lines all the elements that make up Trimalchio’s poem reappear: esse as the infinitive of edo82 (here with no double entendre, but closely followed by another esse, this time the infinitive of sum); the appeal to the carpe diem justified by man’s mortal status; the verb vivere in the same pregnant meaning as it has in Trimalchio’s verse.83

76

77 78 79 80 81

82

83

Also Sen. ep. 123.10 (cf. below, note 81). For Isaiah 22.3 and Paul. 1 Cor. 15.3 see below, text to notes 97-98. I am referring to the inscription no. 480 in Peek 1960, 288 (no. 1367, Peek 1955, 409): ( !( " ( ( / $ / ) / & "/ (Rome, II/III century A.D.). The mention of eating, not accompanied by drinking, appears in “Sardanapalus’ epitaph” as reported by Athen. 8, 336A. Eating and drinking are mentioned in the version of the Anthologia Palatina (see below). Cf. Hofmann 1980, 337-338. Petr. 65.9 bene fuit; 92.4 oportet hodie bene sit. E.g. Hor. c. 3.16.43-44 bene est cui deus obtulit / parca quod satis est manu; Ov. fast. 4.399 bene erat iam glande reperta. Both are quoted by Burman 1743, I, 197. Trimalchio’s tomb must bear the inscription nec umquam philosophum audivit (Petr. 71.12). Sen. ep. 123.10 virtus et philosophia et iustitia verborum inanium crepitus est; una felicitas est bene vitae facere; esse, bibere, frui patrimonio, hoc est vivere, hoc est mortalem se esse meminisse. And farther down: non est istud vivere sed alienae vitae interesse. Here esse is accompanied by bibere. Cf. above, text to note 75. Trimalchio has abundantly developed the drinking theme in the speech preceding the poem: quare tangomenas faciamus (34.7: cf. above, text to notes 61-62); vita vinum est (ibid.: above, note 7). It may be not merely coincidental that in a letter (116.7) coming shortly before the one quoted in note 81 Seneca has the opponents of philosophy say: nos homunciones sumus; omnia nobis negare non possumus. 105

Chapter V Vivere in the pregnant sense of “enjoying life”84 amounts to a veritable leitmotif in the texts which develop the theme of Trimalchio’s verse. In the Senecan passage referred to it is opposed to the preceding vitae, which is devoid of pregnancy: a pattern also frequently found in funerary inscriptions.85 In Petronius’s context it appears shortly before the poem, in the host’s prose speech: eheu… ergo diutius vivit vinum quam homuncio… vita vinum est.86 There is another Senecan text closely reminding our passage, and the whole atmosphere of the Cena: the philosopher’s decription of the banquets daily given by Pacuvius, a governor of Syria, which, like Trimalchio’s, always ended with the host’s feigned obsequies and with a song repeating the refrain ' ' # '' .87 5. Thanks to Seneca, as we have seen, we can listen to those who, like Trimalchio, placed the fullness of life (“living it up”, so to speak) in the joys of the banquet, exemplified through eating and drinking; but the philosopher, on his own part, charges the verb vivere and the noun vita with a very different, actually with an opposite, pregnancy: according to him only philsophy can help us attain the fullness of life.88 The pattern opposing two words stemming from the same root (vita, vivere, etc.) is often found in him too, but what is advocated as a life fully lived is now conceived in the terms of the Stoic philosophical ideal.89 Seneca takes the cue from Pacuvius’ banquets, overhung by the shadow of death like Trimalchio’s is, to change the meaning of the refrain dictated by the governor of Syria’s mala conscientia (' ' '' ) by imparting to vivere the sense it acquires when man is directed by bona conscientia. To do so, he resorts 84 85

86 87

88 89

106

See Setaioli 1988, 482. Cf. e.g. the famous vivamus, mea Lesbia, et amemus (Catull. 5.1); Copa 38 (above, note 59); CE 1231.4 qui legitis, moneo: vivite, mors properat. E.g. CIL XII 4548 amici, dum vivimus, vivamus. Cf. also inscription no. 480 Peek 1960 (above, note 76), v. 2 ( !( ; and especially CE 190.7 (I transcribe the whole inscription, which can be usefully compared with the ideas we are discussing: adeste, amici, fruamur tempus bonum. / Epulemur laeti, vita dum parva manet, / Baccho madentes, hilaris sit concordia. / Eadem fecerunt hi cuncti cum viverent, / dederunt acceperunt, dum essent, fruniti sunt. / Et nos antiquorum emitemur (sic) tempora. / Vive dum vivis, nec quidquam denegaveris / animo indulgere, quem commodavit deus). Petr. 34.7. Sen. ep. 12.8. In this verb (' ' ) the nuance of the “conclusion” of life probably prevails: cf. Cic. Att. 12.2.2; 14.21.3. The Greek counterpart of Latin vivere in the sense of “enjoying life” is ( , that can be used with equal pregnancy. Cf. Setaioli 1988, 482 n. 2272. But ' too, in the sense of successfully concluding one’s life, was liable to acquire a similar meaning and could also receive a philosophical sense. See below, note 90 I refer to Setaioli 1988, 473-488 for further details. Sen. ep. 49.10 saepissime fieri, ut qui diu vixit parum vixerit; 93.3 non vixit ille, se in vita moratus est ; brev. 2.2 exigua pars est vitae qua vivimus (the famous sentence of the maximus poetarum, on which see my pages quoted in the preceding note).

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) to a famous Virgilian verse, while enhancing the egressive meaning of Virgil’s vixi by adding a nuance fitting his Stoic attitude.90 It is possible to follow the gradual transformation of the incitement to enjoy life in its fullness, in view of impending death, into an increasingly “philosophical” (or should we say Stoic?) rule of conduct. Seneca is of course a cornerstone in this evolution, and a further development appears in one of Plutarch’s texts we have previously quoted91 in connection with the Egyptian custom to bring the image of a corpse into the banquet hall. In this text92 that custom is explained not as an urge to enjoyment, but rather as a spur to virtue. But the theme’s transformation begins even before the official outset of Stoicism: with Crates of Thebes, one of whose disciples was Zeno of Citium, the founder of the Stoa. We know two lines attributed to him93 which are a reworking of the famous “epitaph of Sardanapalus”, whose Greek metrical version was attributed to Choerilus;94 but in lieu of the pleasures the king of Assyria regards as the only check against overpowering death, Crates allocates this function to learning and thought. Later on, Stoicism’s great systematizer, Chrysippus, rewrote the whole epitaph: the conscience of his own mortality, he warns, must not induce man to seek material pleasures, but learning and self-improvement.95 90

91 92 93

94

95

From Pacuvius’ “Epicurean” point of view having lived his life to the end meant having enjoyed all the pleasures it could offer. In Petronius himself this “philosophy” is expressed by Eumolpus: 99.1 ego sic semper et ubique vixi, ut ultimam quamque lucem tamquam non redituram consumerem (cf. Lucr. 3.915: above, note 58). Seneca shifts the meaning of the theme in a Stoic direction immediately after his report on Pacuvius: ep. 12.9 hoc quod ille ex mala conscientia faciebat nos ex bona faciamus, et in somnum ituri laeti hilaresque dicamus ‘vixi et quem dederat cursum fortuna peregi’ (Verg. Aen. 4.653) …; quisquis dixit ‘vixi’ cotidie ad lucrum surgit. Seneca quotes the same Virgilian verse also at beat. 19.1 (again with a reference to bona conscientia) and ben. 5.17.5. Cf. Setaioli 1965, 149-150 (also for the meanings acquired by Virgil’s verses when the philosopher detaches them from the original context). Above, note 12. Plut. conv. sept. sap. 2, 148AB. AP 7.326 * / # " ' & . The preceding epigram (AP 7.325) is a slightly altered version of lines 4-5 of Sardanapalus’ epitaph (cf. following note). Cf. Athen. 8, 336A + / " $ / , ' $ / , ' / " ' $ / [ . ' / $ ) ! ]. For the attribution of the Greek version to Choerilus, cf. Athen, 12, 529F; Strabo 14.5.9. Chrysipp., ap. Athen. 8, 336F / + !0 % " 337A ‘ + / " $ / , ! ! ! $ / 1 107

Chapter V The incitement to a purely sensual carpe diem in view of the ineluctability of death, which elicited these philosophical responses, is older than any philosophy96 and is found in all peoples and in all ages. Outside Greece, a much older testimony than Herodotus’ on the Egyptians appears in Isaiah, in reference to the Jewish people’s refusal to obey God’s call to penance.97 “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die” were the words they uttered. The prophet’s condemnation is clear, but it is equally clear that Trimalchio could entirely underwrite these words. An expression identical with the one that, in the Septuagint, Isaiah places in the people’s mouth appears in Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians.98 But for the promise of resurrection, Petronius’ great Christian contemporary would agree with Trimalchio and the cheerless wisdom of pagan epitaphs. A Greek funerary inscription we have repeatedly referred to closes on this gloomy notion: “from there nobody, once dead, wakes up to life”.99 But for Paul redemption has defeated death, so that it is no more necessary to exorcise it through sensual pleasure. Only a few lines after he will be able to utter the joyous cry: “Death, where is thy victory? Death, where is thy sting?”.100 Trimalchio’s “epigram” must then be considered in the context of its times. In this unquiet historical moment, as the crisis affecting old values was becoming more and more evident, our Petronian character blatantly ignores the new stimuli which led on the one hand the pagan Seneca to rejuvenate the old idea by filling it with a new philosophical content, and on the other the Christian Paul to transcend it by appealing to the sphere of the divine. Trimalchio obdurately sticks to the old patterns and ideas, but cannot escape the terror – and the fascination – of death, whose shadow threateningly overhangs his sumptuous banquet.101

96 97

98 99 100 101

108

/ " ! ’. Dunbabin 1986, 194 correctly remarks that this attitude is not at all restricted to the followers of Epicureanism. Is. 22.12 ' ! # ( 13 ( ' + 2 $ Paul. 1 Cor. 15.32 + $ No. 480 Peek 1960, v. 5 (cf. above, note 76). Notice the identical verb here and in Paul’s passage ( / ). Paul. 1 Cor. 15.54 355 3 I regard as a both idle and insoluble problem the attempt to establish whether, and to what extent, Petronius has sketched his character – and our scene in particular – taking into account the evolution of the old theme prompted by both Stoicism and Christianity. We can only say that he was surely acquainted with Stoic doctrines and that notions of Judaic, or even Judaic-Christian mold may have been not totally unknown at Nero’s

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) 6. We have already pointed out the structural import of Trimalchio’s second “epigram” in the whole architecture of the Cena, and the links connecting it with the first one.102 These unquestionable connections prompt me to assume that, in the fictional author’s intention, it was meant to repeat the same metrical pattern too. In the poem at 55.3, however, serious metrical flaws are apparent, to the point that both L and the Florilegia ( ) not only skip the final pentameter, bu present the first two lines as prose. By contrast, in H we read, after the first twot lines, a copyist’s gloss (distichon Trimalchionis cum elego suo) followed by the pentameter, and immediately after, when the prose resumes, the important words ab hoc epigrammate – omitted by L –, which provide Encolpius’ definition of the host’s short poem: “epigram”.103 The first knot to be untangled concerns the state of the text. Many scholars believe that in origin the verses were complete and correct and that the metrica irregularities should be imputed to faulty transmission;104 quite a few, thoughl ,

102 103

104

court, especially if Poppaea’s Judaic leanings are not an invention. For possible traces of Christian notions in the Satyrica cf. app.II. Cf. above, note 7. Stöcker 1969, 92 stresses the irony implied in Encolpius dubbing an “epigram” a poem in which two hexameters and one pentameter are substituted for the normal elegiac couplet. When Stöcker reads Trimalchio’s words at 55.2 as expressing the intention to write an epigram, he seems to take the word used by Trimalchio (inscriptio) as a calque of the Greek , which appears as a loan word in the words preserved by H immediately after the poem (epigrammate). The Latin and the Greek word seem indeed to be interchangeable in Petronius: cf. 103.2 frontes notans inscriptione sollerti ~ 103.4 fugitivorum epigramma ~ 106.1 inscriptione frontis… adumbrata inscriptione; 71.12 inscriptio (on Trimalchio’s tomb) ~ 115.20 dum epigramma mortuo facit. Heinsius already reconstructed two hexameters in the following way: quod non expectes, ex transverso fit et supra nos fortuna negotia curat (cf. Burman 1743, I, 319; Heinsius also corrected the transmitted super to supra: cf. Sen. ep. 95.57 haec supra nos natura disposuit; also nat. 2.32.7, 2.42.3. Cf., however, [Quint.] decl. 8.13, p. 163, 18-19 Håkanson volvitur super nos haec caeli siderumque compago). Heinsius’ reading is printed in the text in Müller’s editions after his first, and is accepted with no reservations by Connors 1998 52 and Rimell 2002, 192. Other scholars believe the lines should somehow be integrated: e.g. Cugusi 1967, 91; Barnes 1971, 312 n. 34; Courtney 2001, 99. Campanile 1974, 45-46 proposes the following in line 2: et supra nos Fortuna negotia curat. This proposal fails to carry conviction, because Fortune, far from minding her own business, constantly interferes with ours. Smith 1975, 147 thinks it probable that the text should be integrated, but subordinately admits that metric irregularities may be meant to convey a vivid idea of the throes of poetic composition Trimalchio is going through (this would be hinted at by non diu cogitatione distortus, 55.2: Smith accepts Fuchs’ correction of distorta to distortus). In my opinion the strongest argument of those who wish to integrate the text is the lack of any determination in reference to negotia. I believe, however, that both this and the metrical irregularities may be explained with the improvised character of these lines and with Trimalchio’s ignorance. 109

Chapter V contend that the text should not be touched,105 and I believe they are right. Most scholars agree that the meter was meant to duplicate that of 34.10, but it is clear for all to see that the goal was not reached. If the metrical faults are not due to transmission, then, it is clear that Trimalchio was not able to come up with correct verses on the spur of the moment. In this, we should add, he does not differ from many metrical inscriptions, whose verses are often gravely defective. Some have proposed a different metrical pattern, but these attempts fail to carry conviction.106 We should not forget the different situations in which Trimalchio recites the two short poems. The first one, as we have seen,107 is part of the host’s accurate stage direction, is in some way announced by his previous prose speech (which opens with the same word, and contains the most eye-catching term that will later appear in the poem), and is effortlessly recited by heart, no doubt at a prearranged moment, signaled by the appearance of the silver skeleton, just like the prose speech took the cue from the serving of the one-hundred-year-old wine. The occasion for the second poem, by contrast, is an acrobat’s fall, which injures Trimalchio himself. If the accident is anything but unexpected in Petronius’ narrative strategy and in the readers’ expectation (Horatius’ cena Nasidieni is clearly hovering in his mind),108 it can hardly be denied that it is probably the only not carefully prepared “number” in the Cena.109 This is confirmed by the fact that Trimalchio does not have a ready-made epigram fitting the situation, 105 106

107 108

109

110

E.g. Walsh 1970, 128; Baldwin 1970-1971, 254-255; Slater 1990a, 161-162 and n. 11. Lastly Jensson 2004, 10-11. More will be mentioned in the following notes. Marmorale 1947, 94 believes the three lines to be a defective senarius, a limping hexameter, and a pentameter (but on p. 24 he states that they are two hexameters and a pentameter). The first line is taken to be a senarius also by Tandoi 1967, 77 and Gagliardi 1989, 20 n. 34. According to Woodall 1970-1971 Trimalchio meant to compose a poem consisting of three pentameters, of which only the last scans correctly (he does not adduce any metrical parallel; we should remember, however, that Kaibel 1887, 702 lists three metrical inscriptions made up of two pentameters). Bücheler 1862 acknowledges in the apparatus the attempt by L. Schmidt to read the first two lines as a quotation from a more estensive composition including the last part of an hexameter and an almost complete one. But it is clear that the poem is an impromptu production by Trimalchio. Above, § 3, beginning. Cf. Hor. sat. 2.8.55-77 (the fall of the curtain, the scared guests, the commonplaces on fortune’s blind omnipotence, etc.). The contacts with Petronius’ Cena are numerous, despite the reservations expressed by Smith 1975, 146-147. Cf. Révay 1922, 209; Perrochat 1939, 76-77; Sullivan 1968, 211. Gagliardi 1989, 19 and n. 31 correctly points out that it would have been all but impossible to prearrange the acrobat’s impact on the landlord so as to avoid serious injuries. It should rather be noticed that Trimalchio readily takes advantage of this accident and succeeds in including it, a posteriori, in the Cena’s careful stage direction through his attempt at literary transfiguration and the double entendre which precedes it (hunc casum). According to Courtney 2001, 99 and n. 38 this accident was probably prearranged too. Cf. lastly Yeh 2007, 96.

Trimalchio’s Epigrams (Petr. 34.10; 55.3) and not only must he ask for the codicilli to write down an appropriate composition, but is also forced to undergo the throes of poetic meditation, though he is not able to concentrate for long.110 It is hardly surprising that the resulting verse is anything but impeccable; but it cannot be doubted that, in his intention, it was meant to duplicate the metrical pattern of 34.10 (which is, then, another “epigram”). Aside from the metrical irregularities, the short composition does not offer insurmountable problems. In the first line the expression ex transverso111 is originally a military metaphor,112 commonly referred to something unexpected.113 The idea expressed by Trimalchio is naturally a hackneyed one.114 We hardly need to follow the history of the widespread theme of fortune’s blind omnipotence. Suffice it to remark that neither here nor in the previous poem does Trimalchio succeed in rising above the commonplace, much less in attaining the level of poetry, despite the last line’s Horatian echoes,115 not unlike those of famous poets in the previous epigram.116 Between 55.3 and 34.10 there is, however, an unquestionable difference. All in all, the theme of fortune remains an occasional theme, linked to a particular accident. The poem at 34.10, by contrast, though not rising above the level to which its author’s modest poetic endowments confine it, develops a topic which Trimalchio profoundly feels: death is his obsession, which casts its shadow over the whole Cena. Unlike Seneca and Paul, he has no other resort but a precarious escapism through pleasure and 110

111 112 113 114

115

116

Petr. 55.2 nec diu cogitatione distorta. Surprisingly, some interpreters regard distorta as an accusative plural of the neuter gender and refer it to the composition’s metric irregularities (distorta haec recitavit). So Baldwin 1970-1971, 254-255; Woodall 1970-1971, 256 and 257; Barnes 1971, 312 n. 34. Sochatoff 1969-1970, 342 cannot decide whether distorta should be referred to cogitatione or to haec. Baldwin 1970-1971, 254-255 states that if distorta were referred to cogitatione, it would be idle after non diu. How does he explain, then, non diu cogitatione, that with his interpretation is left hanging in the air? Fuch’s correction distortus is needless, though accepted by Smith 1975 (above, note 104). Meaning “suddenly”, “unexpectedly”, not “a rovescio”, as translated by CesareoTerzaghi 1950, 43. Cf. Liv. 1.13.1; 2.20.3; 3.62.8; 10.41.5; 33.18.18; 37.42.5. E.g. Cic. acad. 2,121; Sen. beat. 15,6; vd. OLD s.v. transversus (to which Sen. ep. 117.21 and Querolus p. 21, 6 Ranstrand may be added). Barnes 1971, 304-305 refers to the ending of some Euripidean dramas (Alcestis, Andromacha, Bacchae, Helena, Medea). These all end with the same five lines (in the Medea the first of the five is different). Lucian. symp. 48 (already quoted by Stubbe 1933, 164) adduces three of these lines: / / $ Petr. 55.3.3 quare da nobis vina Falerna, puer ~ Hor. c. 2.11.18-20 quis puer ocius / restinguet ardentis Falerni / pocula praetereunte lympha? Cf. also Catull. 27.1 minister vetuli puer Falerni. Cf. above, text to notes 57-59. 111

Chapter V wine. In his eyes this is the universal remedy, the only one enabling man to forget all threats: impending death as well as fortune’s whims: quare da nobis vina Falerna, puer.

112

Chapter VI Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2)* 55.6

Luxuriae rictu Martis marcent moenia. Tuo palato clausus pavo pascitur plumato amictus aureo Babylonico, gallina tibi Numidica, tibi gallus spado; ciconia etiam, grata peregrina hospita, pietaticultrix gracilipes crotalistria, avis exul hiemis, titulus tepidi temporis nequitiae nidum in caccabo fecit tuae. Quo margaritam caram tibi, bacam Indicam? An ut matrona onerata phaleris pelagiis tollat pedes indomita in strato extraneo? Zmaragdum ad quam rem viridem, pretiosum vitrum? Quo Carchedonios optas ignes lapideos? Nisi ut scintillet aequitas e carbunculis. Aequum est induere nuptam ventum textilem, palam prostare nudam in nebula linea?

HL(=lmrtp)O(=BRP) 2 pascitur Scaliger: nascitur 3 aureo L: auro HO Babylonicus Fraenkel 6 pietaticultrix L: pietatis cultrix HO 7 hieme Fraenkel 8 tuae Fraenkel: tuo Heinsius: modo Bücheler: meae Dell’Era: meo codd. Marmorale 9 margaritam caram Ribbeck: -a cara tibi bacam Indicam Heinsius: tibi bac(c)a Indica Ol: tribac(c)a Indica Hmrtp 10 onerata mrtp: ornata HO 14 e B: est HLP: et R carbunculis Bücheler: -lus Hlmt : -os Orp 15 induere lp Samb. Scaliger: inducere 16 linea lmtp Samb. Scaliger: lun(a)e rHO

5

10

15

Chapter VI 93.2

Ales Phasiacis petita Colchis atque Afrae volucres placent palato quod non sunt faciles, at albus anser et pictis anas involuta pennis plebeium sapit. Ultimis ab oris attractus scarus atque arata Syrtis siquid naufragio dedit, probatur; mullus iam gravis est. Amica vincit uxorem. Rosa cinnamum veretur. Quicquid quaeritur optimum videtur.

5

10

L(=lrtp) 2 Afrae Putean.: aeriae 4 involuta Busche: innovata seu ingravata seu aemulata Bücheler: renovata codd., defendit Cugusi: alii alias 7 probatur : -amus L

1. These two poems, which, as we shall see, have many traits in common, present several textual problems. The text adopted here agrees in general with that given by Müller’s editions later than the first one, with one exception: onerata in lieu of ornata at 55.6.10. After Burman,1 the one modern editor choosing onerata (i.e. the reading that can be referred to L) seems to be Carlo Pellegrino,2 though in his commentary he gives no reason for this choice. In my opinion, though, there are multiple reasons to prefer onerata. In the first place we should call attention to the numerous texts in which the pearls worn by the matronae to enhance their beauty – such are the phalerae pelagiae of Petronius’ matrona, which clearly pick up the margarita mentioned in the preceding line – are described as a “weight”; some may even be either a poetic antecedent3 or a target of Petronius’ irony.4

* 1 2 3

4

114

A version of this chapter has appeared with the title Le due poesie in Petr. Sat. 55.6 e 93.2, “Prometheus” 35, 2009, 237-258 Burman 1743, I, 359. Pellegrino 1975, 87. One such antecedent is probably Hor. epod. 8.13-14 nec sit marita quae rotundioribus / onusta bacis ambulet, where even the word designating the pearl is the same: baca (cf. also Hor. sat. 2.3.241). The situation described in Horace’s epode is not far from Petronius’ adulterous matrona (Frassinetti 1954, 387-389 provides information on the sexual roles which may be described by the expression tollat pedes of line 11, and clearly shows that it can fit the feminine role). Such is probably Sen. ben. 7.9.4 iam enim exercitatae aures oneri ferendo sunt. In the next paragraph we find a reference to women wearing transparent dresses closely re-

Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) Secondly, Petronius himself employs the same word to describe something that should be not a weight, but an ornament.5 Finally, the exchange between onerat- and ornat- is common in manuscripts,6 and both H and O, i.e. the branches of tradition that transmit ornata instead of onerata, present many more instances of “normalization”, which, though seemingly enhancing linguistic regularity, amount to as many specimens of lectio facilior, and must therefore be rejected.7 I shall only briefly point out a few more details. At the end of line 8 I accept Fraenkel’s correction (tuae) in lieu of the manuscripts’ meo.8 Tuae seems to be required by the insistent recurring of the second person in the poem.9 At line 9 Ribbeck’s correction quo margaritam caram in lieu of -a cara given by the tradition appears to be necessary. In elliptic interrogative clauses introduced by quo the accusative is normally employed.10

5 6 7

8 9

10

minding of Petronius (sericas vestes… quibus sumptis parum liquido nudam se non esse iurabit). Cf. also Sen. const. 14.1 quam oneratas aures. More parallels in Ovid: ars 3.129-130 vos quoque non caris aures onerate lapillis / quos legit in viridi decolor Indus aqua; med. fac. 21-22 induitis collo lapides oriente petitos / et quantos onus est aure tulisse duos. Habinnas’ crowns: Petr. 65.7 oneratusque aliquot coronis. Elsewhere it is clothing that is described as a weight: 32.2 oneratas veste cervices. As already remarked by Burman 1743, I, 359. At line 3 HO give auro againts aureo (L). This seemingly results in a more regular construction, since plumatus, in the sense of “embroidered” can be in a natural way determined by auro (cf. Lucan. 10.125 pars auro plumata nitet); also, the double epithet in reference to Babylonico (“carpet”) would be avoided. Indeed, in order to avoid it, Frankel corrected to Babylonicus, referred to the peacock. At line 6 HO have pietatis cultrix, against pietaticultrix (L), a normalization avoiding the hapax legomenon. At line 3 metrics itself confirms that the normalization cannot be accepted. Not so with ornata (v. 10), but here too, like in the other instances, it is surely more banal than onerata. Accepted by Marmorale 1947, 96. Petr. 55.6.2 tuo; 4 tibi… tibi; 9 tibi; 13 optas. The correction modo, proposed by Jacobs, adopted by Bücheler and some later editors (Friedlaender 1891, 136; Heseltine 1913, 98; Pellegrino 1975, 85), and more recently defended by Salanitro 1996, 300-301 n. 1 (also offering a survey of the various proposals), is based on the idea that 55.6 is a quotation from Publilius Syrus and therefore belongs to the late Roman republic, when the habit to serve storks at the table was recent. We shall see, however, that the poem cannot be Publilius’. Dell’Era 1995 proposes meae with the curious argument that the insistent recurrence of the second person should require a shift to the first person “in una posizione centrale e eccezionale”. Burman 1743, I, 358 already referred to Hor. epist. 1.5.12 quo mihi fortunam, si non conceditur uti? (cf. also Smith 1975, 149); Ov. am. 3.4.41 quo tibi formosam, si non nisi casta placebat?; Phaedr. 3.18.9 quo mi… mutam speciem, si vincor sono?; Mart. 5.35.2 quo tibi vel Nioben, Basse, vel Andromachen? 115

Chapter VI Line 14 must be understood as an ironic remark on the part of the speaker: (“unless you seek the Carchedonios ignes lapideos so that uprightness may receive light from rubies”11 – when it cannot be doubted that the craving for precious stones is a mark of moral corruption). So, no question mark must be placed at the end of line 14, as done in many popular editions12 and even in some critical ones.13 The most momentous textual problem posed by the poem at 93.2 is found at line 4. The reading unanimously transmitted by tradition14 is et pictis anas renovata pennis. According to some renovata is meaningless,15 while others refer it to the shifting colors of the duck’s feathers;16 but the most serious problem posed by this word concerns metrics, inasmuch as with renovata line 4 would not be a Phalaecean hendecasyllable, like all the other lines in the poem. Some scholars seem not to have realized this problem,17 but Burman already recorded many attempts to heal the line’s metrics.18 The traditional reading has had its champions too. Marmorale,19 who proposes a late date for the Satyrica, saw in our line the proof that Petronius had become insensible to syllabic quantity. He has been followed by Cugusi,20 who, like Marmorale, believes line 4 to be a Sapphic hendecasyllable inserted in the series of Phalaeceans. He points out a metrical inscription in which this happens 11 12

13 14

15 16

17

18 19 20

116

Rightly Connors 1998, 57: “unless you want it so that moral rectitude may gleam amid the carbuncles”. Courtney 1991, 22 regards the verse as ironical too. E.g. Ciaffi 19672, 158; Canali 1990, 90; Aragosti 1995, 260; Reverdito 1995, 82; Scarsi 1996, 72. The untenability of the question mark at the end of both line 13 and line 14 is made evident by the very translations accompanying the text in these editions (and in Ernout’s: cf. following note) E.g. Heseltine 1913, 98; Ernout 1923, 53. Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 44 place a question mark at the and of line 14, but not of line 13. Contrary to what appears in some editors’ critical apparatuses (e.g. Bücheler, Ernout, Cesareo-Terzaghi) the readings of the Florilegia too ( ) may be said to be based on an original anas (not on avis): cf. Hamacher 1975, 137. Bücheler 1862, 111 places line 4 after line 2, adopts avis in lieu of anas, and refers the line to the peacock (which in reality is not mentioned in this poem), perhaps being influenced by passages like Phaedr. 3.18.8 pictisque plumis gemmeam caudam explicans and the others quoted by Connors 1998, 58 n. 26. He gives up the verse transposition and adopts anas in his later editions. So, lastly, Habermehl 2006, 245. So Ernout 1923, 97: “le canard dont les plumes bariolées prennent mille teintes”. Cf. also Ciaffi 19672, 327; Canali 1990, 157; Aragosti 1995, 367; Scarsi 1996, 135. Reverdito 1955, 155 prefers no to translate renovata (“l’anitra dalle penne screziate”). E.g. Paratore 1933, II, 311: “levigatezza estrema, senza l’ombra di una licenza metrica”; “accuratezza della tecnica metrica”. Cf. also Ciaffi, Canali, Aragosti, Scarsi, and Reverdito, quoted in the preceding note. All print renovata with no comment. Burman 1743, I, 581. A more up-to-date list in Stubbe 1933, 173; an exhaustive, indepth discussion in Habermehl 2006, 245. Marmorale 1948, 292-293, who also offers a survey of proposed corrections. Cugusi 1967.

Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) three times.21 Cugusi has been convincingly refuted by Vincenzo Tandoi,22 but it should be added that the traditional reading (et pictis anas renovata pennis) does not really offer a Sapphic hendecasyllable, even though it is close to that metrical pattern.23 This invalidates Cugusi’s argument at the very root. A critical survey of all the more important proposals to correct the corrupt word (no doubt renovata) can be found in Habermehl’s excellent commentary.24 Like him – and like Müller, in his editions later than the first one – I believe the most likely correction, though of course no absolute certainty can be reached, to be involuta, which was suggested by Busche.25 In my opinion the latter’s most convincing argument – aside from paleographical plausibility – is the parallel he established with 55.6.2-3, where the peacock is said to be covered with – or rather be “dressed in”: amictus – a plumage described as a carpet embroidered in gold. It should indeed not escape us that, if we accept involuta, in both poems a variegated plumage is described as a dress, with two expressions that Petronius has also used elsewhere, one shortly after the other, in reference to clothing.26 This is the first of the many common traits linking our two poems. 2. The poem recited at 55.6 by Trimalchio is in senarii, which several scholars have judged to resemble those of comedy, of what scanty remains of the mime have been preserved, and of Phaedrus’ fables, and so to mirror a rather obsolete taste, when compared with Eumolpus’ tragic trimeters the latter employs in his Troiae halosis at chapter 89.27 Nevertheless, this poem’s basic metrical correctness, as well as its connection with a strand of bona fide literary production, cannot but strike the reader who remembers the two poems previously recited by Trimalchio, especially the second one, which precedes it by only a few lines

21 22 23 24 25

26

27

He refers to CE 1504. The Sapphic hendecasyllables interrupting the series of Phalaeceans are lines 6, 10, and 23. Tandoi 1968, 77. With et pictis anas renovata pennis we have this sequence : spondee, trochee, dactyl, trochee, spondee. Cf. Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 82. Habermehl 2006, 245. Cf. above, note 18. Busche 1911, 455. Nisbet 1962, 229 pointed out a parallel to confirm involuta: Mart. Cap. 9.918 nam candidus nivosis / olor involutus alis. It is regarded as non-pertinent by Courtney 1991, 27 (who erroneously attributes the reference to Busche himself). Petr. 26.10 amicimur ergo diligenter; 28.6 involutus coccina gausapa. Amictus in this sense also appears at 65.3 and 97.2. Amiculum at 11.2. Involutus in the sense of covered (with clothing) also at 63.6 (involvere at 26.1; 54.4; 64.6). Cf. Stubbe 1933, 164; Barnes 1971, 45-46. Lastly Yeh 2006, 471-482, who, after a thorough analysis, comes to the conclusion that the meter of 55.6 is not really archaic, but rather archaizing (p. 478). Already Collignon 1892, 236 saw in our poem “une certaine affectation d’archaïsme”. 117

Chapter VI (55.3)28 and is extremely incorrect from the metrical point of view, even when compared with the uncultured, but basically respected metrical pattern of his first “epigram” at 34.10 This discrepancy admits of various explanations and we shall go back to it at the moment of tackling the problem of the authorship of the verse at 55.6, which Trimalchio presents not as his own, but as a quotation of Publilius Syrus. The twofold structure of our poem has been repeatedly pointed out.29 It is true that the first part is about the pleasures of the table, and the second about ornaments of the body, but we do not have two parts of equal length each comprised of eight lines. In reality the first line states the theme of the whole poem – the luxury perverting Rome –, which is then developed in the next seven verses through the mention of choice foods, illustrated through a list of birds made rare and sought after either by being exotic, or artificially altered, or caught and used as food despite the respect they would deserve.30 The second half of the poem is characterized by the shift from assertions to a series of rhetorical questions, breathlessly (and sarcastically) succeeding one another to the end of the composition. Six lines are devoted to precious stones, the final two to transparent clothing. The thread connecting these parts and unifying the poem is the theme of luxury and corruption, already implied in the first verse (marcent), then picked up in the middle, still in the part devoted to gastronomic pleasures (nequitiae, v. 8), and fully developed in the pictures of sexual depravation, and also through the ironical hint at rectitude (probitas, v. 14), which can hardly draw its splendor from gems. The opinions as to the poetic worth of this poem range from the most flattering appreciation to the most extreme scorn.31 They are only of limited interest to us. 28

29

30

31

118

Cf. e.g. Yeh 2007, 471. The interesting implications potentially connected with this correct remark are unfortunately nullified by Yeh’s startling interpretation (pp. 96-98) of Trimalchio’s two “epigrams” as part of one poem. See ch. V. Cf. e.g. Giancotti 1967, 270; Yeh 2007, 482. According to Connors 1998, 57-58 the peacock’s multicolored plumage (vv. 2-3) and the transparent dress (vv. 15-16) frame the poem. To uphold this idea she might have referred to Vopisc. Car. et Carin. et Numer. 20.5 iam quid lineas petitas Aegypto loquar? Quid Tyro et Sidone tenuitate perlucidas, plumandi difficultate pernobiles? (where these clothes are described with traits that in Petronius refer both to the dresses – lineas – and to the peacock – plumandi). See Paschoud 2001, 409. Another link connecting the two parts of the poem is the resemblance of the peacock’s feathers to the gems described in the second part (cf. Phaedr. 3.18.8 and related texts: above, note 14) Notice that four of these seven lines (vv. 5-8) are devoted to the “pious” stork at the end of the list (Salanitro 1996 demonstrates that the stork’s pietas refers primarily to its behavior toward its parents); two more (2-3) describe the peacock, which opens it. The guinea fowl and the capon, which are in the middle, are dispatched in just one verse (4). Steele 1919-1920, 286: “a poet of no little merit”; Paratore 1933, II, 171: “versi di fattura solida e robusta”; Maiuri 1945, 188: “esercizio di bravura… un fine saggio di

Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) A conspicuous characteristic of our poem is the insistent recurrence, from beginning to end, of alliteration, which in many scholars’ view is meant to impart a hyperarchaic flavor.32 Other traits that appear to be affectedly sought after are the heaping of polysyllabic words (two of them long compounds),33 and the triple recurrence, in the last verses, of an exchange between noun and adjective.34 What is most interesting, however, is the peculiar slant our poem imparts to the widespread theme protesting luxury at the table35 (to which the polemic against extravagance in bodily ornament is added)36. The idea that the rare and the exotic are for this only reason preferred to the domestic and easily obtained is certainly recognizable here too, but it is not alone and undisputed, as it is in the poem we have paired with Trimalchio’s senarii from the very beginning, namely Eumolpus’ Phalaeceans at 93.2. In the first place rarity and high price seem to count more than exotic origin: peacocks and guinea fowls were certainly rare and luxurious articles, but in Petronius’ time they had been acclimated in Italy for a long time;37 and though the stork, peregrina hospita, came from afar, it was nevertheless captured in Italy to be served at the table.38 We have already hinted at the transgressive character of this fad: the pietas so connatural to the stork as to make it the symbol of this virtue so appreciated by the Romans39 did

32

33

34

35 36 37

38 39

poesia”. Following in the wake of Maiuri, Marmorale 1947, 95; Walsh 1970, 127 and n. 2; Yeh 2007, 484. At the opposite extreme, cf. Slater 1990a, 186: “some of the most deliciously awful poetry in the Satyricon”; Rimell 2002, 193 n. 34: “awful poem”. A strongly negative judgment on our poem is passed by Barnes 1971, 50 and 61 n. 6 too. Petr. 55.6.1 Martis marcent moenia; 2-3 palato… pavo pascitur / plumato; 7 titulus tepidi temporis; 8 nequitiae nidum; 10 phaleris pelagiis; 16 palam prostare; nudam in nebula. Cf. e.g. Collignon 1892, 237; Barnes 1971, 46. The hyperarchaic flavor of this trait is stressed e.g. by Bendz 1941, 54; Slater 1990a, 186; Courtney 1991, 21; Connors 1998, 57; Yeh 2007, 479-482 Petr. 55.6.6 pietaticultrix gracilipes crotalistria. Most scholars see an archaizing touch in the compounds: e.g. Sullivan 1968, 193; Smith 1975, 149; Courtney 1991, 21; a different opinion is voiced by Barnes 1971, 47. Petr. 55.6.13 ignes lapideos; 15 ventum textilem; 16 nebula linea. The artificiality of the triple figure is stressed e.g. by Bendz 1941, 54-55; Courtney 1991, 22: “this is (intentional) sowing with the whole sack”. A detailed survey will be found in Habermehl 2006, 241-243. For the polemic against jewels and transparent dresses regarded as a mark of corruption see the parallels already quoted by Burman 1743, I, 358-358; also above, notes 3-4. For the peacock cf. Cic. fam. 9.18.3; 9.20.2; Varr. r. r. 3.6; Hor. sat. 1.2.116. It was served at the table for the first time by Hortensius (Varr. r. r. 3.6.6; Plin. NH 10.45). Its eggs were very expensive (cf. Varr. r. r. 3.6.6); they are served at Trimalchio’s table (Petr. 33.4-5). For the guinea fowl cf. e.g. Hor. epod. 2.53; Varr. r. r. 3.9.1; 3.9.18; Mart. 13.73; Plin. NH 10.132; Colum. 8.2.2. The fad of serving up storks was initiated by Petronius Rufus, on whom see Hor. sat. 2.2.49-50, with Porphyrion’s commentary. Cf. Salanitro 1996, with the literature quoted and discussed. 119

Chapter VI not prevent the epicures from serving it up at the table. The most important signal, however, lies in the mention, restricted, perhaps intentionally, to just two words, of a bird not rare in itself, but artificially made pleasing to the palate: the capon (gallus spado).40 A criticism of the contemporary taste for artificiality – actually, for unnaturalness – is here in the foreground.41 This detail may be usefully associated with another poetic passage, which, like the poem at 93.2, is often paired with our verse:42 the opening part of the Bellum civile recited by Eumolpus. There, besides clear textual parallels with the poem at 93.2,43 we find a detail that helps us understand the real import of the reference to capons at 55.6: the castration of young boys to make them into objects of unnatural pleasure.44 Here the taste for unnaturalness, which is only hinted at at 55.6, is expressly emphasized: quaerit se natura nec invenit. The portion of our poem which is devoted to jewels has been associated by some with a poetic fragment of Maecenas, quoted by Isidore of Seville,45 mentioning emeralds and pearls, which also appear in the poem recited by Trimalchio. This association has no doubt been prompted by the coupling of the latter with Augustus’ powerful minister, which seems to be suggested by Trimalchio’s complete name: C. Pompeius Trimalchio Maecenatianus.46 Some scholars believe Petronius’ wealthy freedman to be the noble Etruscan knight’s provincial counterpart.47 It cannot be denied that certain details characterizing Trimalchio in the Satyrica appear to be reminiscent of Maecenas’ description we read in one

40

41 42 43

44

45

46 47

120

For the capon cf. e.g. Varr. r. r. 2.7.15; Colum. 8.2.3; Mart. 3.58.38; 13.63; Apic. 4.3.3, and see Bruneau 1985, 547-549. Ernout 1923, 52 peculiarly translates gallus spado with “chapon gaulois”. Petronius’ polemical attitude to artificiality and unnaturalness is stressed (in general) by Sandy 1969, 296-297. E.g. by Barnes 1971, 311 n. 29; Courtney 1991, 27; Yeh 2007, 86. E.g. Petr. 119.7-8 non vulgo nota placebant / gaudia, non usu plebeio trita voluptas ~ 93.2.5 plebeium sapit; 119.33-34 Siculo scarus aequore mersus / ad mensam vivus perducitur ~ 93.2.5-6 ultimis ab oris / attractus scarus; 119.36-37 iam Phasidos unda / orbata est avibus ~ 93.2.1 ales Phasiacis petita Colchis. Petr. 119.20-24 Persarum ritu male pubescentibus annis / surripuere viros exsectaque viscera ferro / in venerem fregere, atque ut fuga mobilis aevi / circumscripta mora properantes differat annos / quaerit se natura nec invenit. Maecen. fr. poet. V Avallone (Isid. orig. 19.32.6) lucentes, mea vita, nec smaragdos / beryllos mihi, Flacce, nec nitentes / nec percandida margarita quaero / nec quos Thynica lima perpolivit / anulos neque iaspios lapillos. On this fragment see Setaioli 2000, 262. Known to us from the inscription on Trimalchio’s tomb: Petr. 71. 12. The idea was suggested by Steele 1919-1920, 283-284; it was later picked up by Sullivan 1969, 137-138, and, with an express reference to Maecenas’ fragment, by Baldwin 1984. See, lastly, Byrne 2006, 99-102.

Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) of Seneca’s epistles;48 but it is hardly possible to find anything in common between the crass ignorance of Petronius’ freedman and Maecenas’ refined culture.49 The scholar who has advanced farthest on this path is no doubt Shannon Byrne, who contends that Seneca’s Maecenas was meant as a veiled, but clearly unfriendly, portrait of Petronius. The latter, she goes on, was well aware of Seneca’s intention, and recycled some details of the philosopher’s description of Maecenas in Trimalchio’s parodic characterization.50 If it were so – the conclusion seems unescapable – Petronius’ Trimalchio would be a parody of Petronius himself! In reality, a close analysis of the two poems (Maecenas’ and Trimalchio’s) will show that the association is hardly fitting: Maecenas’ verse expresses the repudiation of gems, whereas Trimalchio’s associates them with moral corruption. Aside from this, we happen to know a real parody of Maecenas’ poem. It appears in a letter of Augustus partly reported by Macrobius.51 Augustus does not miss the rare neuter form margaritum which Maecenas had used in his poem. In Trimalchio’s verse, by contrast, the more common margarita is employed, although margaritum was not unknown to Petronius.52 The connection of the poem’s first part with the widespread “gastronomic” theme is much more tangible. This topic already appeared in Ennius’ Hedyphagetica,53 probably with satiric intentions. In Horace it is much developed in the second book of the Satires, but it appears elsewhere too. Horatian echoes can indeed be recognized in the verse at 55.6.54 The influence of Varro’s satiric writing has been surmised too. One of Varro’s Menippeae contained a list of tasty foods written in senarii, like Trimalchio’s poem.55 48

49 50 51

52 53

54

55

Sen. ep. 114.6 sic apparuerit (Maecenas), ut pallio velaretur caput exclusis utrimque auribus ~ Petr. 32.2 pallio enim coccineo adrasum excluserat caput. The two passages are placed side by side by Steele 1919-1920, 284; Sullivan 1968, 137. Byrne 2006, 99 correctly adds that in the same passages both Trimalchio and Maecenas are accompanied by two eunuchs. Although Byrne 2006, 100 asserts that “both are bad poets with similar tastes”. Byrne 2006, 106-107. August. ap. Macr. Sat. 2.4.12 Tiberinum margaritum, Cilniorum smaragde, iaspi Iguvinorum, berulle Porsenae. All the gems mentioned in Maecenas’ fragment reappear in this text. Cf. also Suet. Aug. 86.2. Petr. 63.3. Cf. Heraeus 1937, 113; Cavalca 2001, 107-108. Cf. above, note 35 (reference to the detailed survey in Habermehl 2006, 241-243). Cf. e.g. Hor. sat. 2.2.22-28, pointed out by Sullivan 1968, 193 n. 1; also epod. 2.53, quoted above. Some of these Horatian texts have probably influenced Petr. 93.2 too. Another Horatian poem, epod. 8, is echoed only in Petr. 55.6 (above, note 3). I am referring to the Menippean satire (Menipp. 403 Bücheler = Astbury = Gell. 6.16.1-5). The reference is made already by Collignon 1892, 285. More recently, e.g., Giancotti 1967, 273; Walsh 1970, 127; Smith 1975, 148. 121

Chapter VI 3. All scholars, almost with no exception, have emphasized the blatant contradiction between the verse recited by Trimalchio against luxury and extravagance on the on hand, and his own lifestyle on the other.56 As far as food is concerned, for example, the rich freedman censures serving peacocks at the table, but offers peacock-eggs to his guests;57 although he criticizes the matronae’s phalerae pelagiae, he possesses cursores phalerati.58 And the whole Cena is an obvious specimen of the unbridled luxury the verse at 55.6 inveighs against.59 This state of things must be kept in mind before tackling the most intricate problem posed by our poem: that of its authorship. As is well-known, Trimalchio takes the cue to produce these lines from the discussion about poets sparked by his recitation, a few lines before, of his second, metrically very defective, “epigram”.60 Trimalchio cuts short the discussion61 by asking the rhetorician Agamemnon what difference he thinks there is between Cicero and Publilius Syrus;62 but he does not leave him the time to reply and proceeds to answer his own question, by stating that in his opinion Cicero is disertior and Publilius is honestior.63 Immediately after, he produces the verse at 55.6, preceded by a rhetorical question: quid enim his melius dici potest? It is clear, then, that the poem is presented by Trimalchio as the work of Publilius Syrus. Before we tackle the problem of the credibility of Trimalchio’s ascription, it will be necessary to try to ascertain the meaning and import of the comparison 56

57 58 59

60 61

62

63

122

I limit myself to some of the more recent scholars stressing this contradiction: Giancotti 1967, 244; Sullivan 1968, 192; Sochatoff 1969-1970, 344; Walsh 1970, 127; Barnes 1971, 43-44, 48-49; Smith 1975, 148; Sandy 1976, 287; Gagliardi 1980, 76; Courtney 1991, 21; Panayotakis 1995, 86; Walsh 1996, 174; Conte 1996, 119; Connors 1998, 60; Courtney 2001, 197; Yeh 2007, 485. Cf. above, note 37, and see Cavalca 2001, 50 n. 61. Petr. 28.4. Cf. Cavalca 2001, 133. Connors 1998, 60-61 also emphasizes the contrast between the condemantion of gems at 55.6.9-14 and Fortunata and Scintilla displaying their jewels in chapter 57. She does not point out that to Habinnas a pearl is nothing but a faba vitrea (67.10), just like Trimalchio calls the emerald pretiosum vitrum in his poem (55.6.12). See below. See ch. V. I do not dwell on the detail of the palm of poetry allotted to the unknown Mopsus of Thrace (55.4). This is hardly surprising at Trimalchio’s table. The host mentions Hannibal as the conqueror of Troy (50.5), Cassandra murdering her children, and Niobe shut up in the Trojan horse by Daedalus (52.1-2). The manuscripts have Publium, corrected by Bücheler to Pub

  • lium. The correction may be regarded as certain, and has been accepted by everybody. This is not, indeed, the only instance in which the name of the mime-writer has been reduced, by haplography, to Publius. Nevertheless, Giancotti 1967, 237 enjoins prudence, and does not rule out the possibility that Publius might be a fanciful name placed by Petronius in Trimalchio’s mouth to stress his ignorance once more. This is customarily understood as “more moral” or “more edifying”. According to Barnes 1971, 51-52 it means “more fashionable”. See also below, note 104.

    Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) between two authors as different as the great orator and the mime-writer. For some the pairing is absurd, and only aimed at eliciting a laugh.64 Others, though agreeing on the ridiculous absurdity of the coupling, believe it to be a parody of similar discussions held in the schools of rhetoric.65 Some attempts have even been made at regarding this comparison as totally serious and in keeping with the procedures of contemporary literary criticism.66 If this were really so, there would be good reason to believe that the verse recited by Trimalchio is indeed Publilius’, but the alleged antecedents of a comparison between him and Cicero are far from carrying conviction.67 The verse at 55.6 was for a long time regarded as actually Publilius’. It is still attributed to him, among others, by Wehle68 and Bücheler, in his 1862 edition;69 and, in more recent times, by Paratore, Cèbe, Dell’Era, Ciaffi, Scarsi, and 64

    65

    66

    67

    68 69

    Cf. e.g. Sullivan 1968, 192: “an idiotic comparison”; Barnes 1971, 53-54; Gagliardi 1980, 75-76 (who erroneously thinks that the answer to Trimalchio’s question and the recitation of the verse at 55.6 should be ascribed to Agamemnon, rather than to Trimalchio himself). E.g. Bendz 1941, 54; Maiuri 1945, 188; Smith 1975, 148; Cicu 1992b, 115; Courtney 2001, 106-107. The parallels adduced by these scholars (e.g the comparison between Demosthenes and Cicero proposed by Quint. 10.1.106-107, or that between Virgil and Cicero in Macr. Sat. 5.1.2-3) are not fitting, inasmuch as they place side by side two authors universally recognized as the greatest, either in the same genre, or in different, but equally lofty, and somehow related, genres (cf. Macr. Sat. 5.1.3 siquis nunc velit orandi artem consequi, utrum magis ex Vergilio an ex Cicerone proficiat). In Trimalchio’s case, by contrast, the humor stems from the lack of a common ground justifying the coupling. Even less fitting is the proposed parallel with the lost Convivia poetarum ac philosophorum mentioned in a fragment of Cicero’s lost oration Pro Q. Gallio, quoted by Hieron. ep. 52.8 (cf. Hauler 1905, and, for the association with Petronius, Sandy 1974, 338). As far as we can see, these Convivia contained fanciful dialogues between authors of different times but of equal characterisctics (playwrights with playwrights, philosophers with philosophers). So Giancotti 1967, 240-241, with a reference to Sen. rhet. contr. 7.3(18).8-9; Sandy 1976, 286-287 (quoting Giancotti, but without disclosing that his own conclusion follows Giancotti in everything). At Sen. rhet. contr. 7.3(18).8-9 we do not find a coupling of Cicero and Publilius, as Giancotti and Sandy would have it (cf. preceding note). The orator is referred to only in connection with the employment of polysemous words introduced by Pomponius and Laberius. This drastically reduces the import of a text (the elder Seneca’s) that, if Giancotti and Sandy were right, could hardly be ignored. The elder Seneca does indeed introduce a quotation from Publilius with a formulation not dissimilar from what precedes the verse at 55.6 in Petronius: Sen. rhet. 7.3(18).8 illum versum quo aiebat unum versum inveniri non posse meliorem ~ Petr. 55.5 quid enim his melius dici potest? We shall soon propose a more convincing explanation of this correspondence. See text to notes 103-105. Wehle 1861, 28. Bücheler 1862, 64. This is also the position of Hauler 1905, 103-104. 123

    Chapter VI – with an effort to substantiate his claim – by Sandy.70 Besides some scholars who refrain from taking a position,71 there are even some according to whom these lines are neither Publilius’ nor Petronius’, but belong to some other poet and are ascribed to Publilius only by Trimalchio’s ignorance.72 The majority of scholars now favor Petronius’ authorship, but with considerable differences, especially as far as this poem’s relation to Publilius is concerned. According to several scholars, starting with Collignon,73 it is an imitation of Publilius Syrus.74 Some of these overstate the idea, by regarding this verse as an exceedingly close reproduction of the mime-writer’s style – but with no serious check based on a careful analysis of the text.75 It is easy to realize, however, that our poem bears no stylistic resemblance to the monostichic Sententiae attributed to Publilius, which – aside from three short fragments – are all the material the lines at 55.6 can be compared with, as several scholars have duly pointed out.76 70

    71

    72

    73

    74

    75

    76

    124

    Cf. respectively Paratore 1933, II, 173-176 (with arguments that are frail indeed); Cèbe 1966, 331-332 n. 3 (Vergé-Borderolle 1999, 4 n. 18 shares the same position); Dell’Era 1995 (in the title of his article); Ciaffi 19672, 156 n. 119; Scarsi 1996, 72 n. 1; Sandy 1976 (with the reference to the elder Seneca mentioned above). Apparently these lines are believed to be Publilius’ by Pellegrino 1975, 316 too. So Heseltine 1913, 97 n. 1; Steele 1919-1920 286; Stubbe 1933, 164; Cicu 1988, 106 n. 24. A curious vacillation is found in Cavalca 2001, 49: “forse del mimografo Publilio” vs Cavalca 2001 132 n. 284: “perché non pensare che il brano sia frutto dell’inventio petroniana?”. So Stöcker 1969, 96; Sochatoff 1969-1970, 344 (who does not totally rule out Publilius’ authorship). Giancotti 1967, 263 goes as far as naming the author of the verses, who, in his opinion, cannot be Publilius. Following Wölfflin’s old proposal, he ascribes them to Laberius, the other mime-writer of Caesar’s age. Tandoi 1968, 78 n. 1 regards the proposal as worth being considered. Collignon 1892, 235-236 (he does not rule out the alternate possibility that these verse may belong to another poet and be wrongly attributed to Publilius by Trimalchio: p. 236 n. 1); cf. also Perrochat 1939, 77. So, e.g., Friedlaender 1891, 262; Marmorale 1947, 95; Sullivan 1968, 192; Panayotakis 1995, 87; Conte 1996, 119. Barnes 1971, 44 and Salanitro 1996, 300-301 n. 1 go as far as regarding this poem as the imitation of a specific passage, now lost, of Publilius. Marchesi 1921, 60 calls it a “saggio di poesia publiliana, col metro, con lo stile, col lessico di Publilio”; he is followed by Gagliardi 1980, 76. Connors 1998, 57 regards 55.6 as “an extreme version of the sort of thing elsewhere celebrated or deplored in quotations of Publilius”. She is influenced by Courtney 1991, 21, who believes our verse to be a parody of the employment of quotations from Publilius to serve a moral purpose, as exemplified by Seneca’s philosophical works (followed by Walsh 1996, 174). Cf. also Courtney 2001, 107. This point was convincingly made by Giancotti 1967, 254-255. He might appear to be partial, in that he ascribes the poem to Laberius; but it was equally made by others who ascribe it to Petronius: Smith 1975, 148; Slater 1990a, 185-186; Yeh 2007, 484-485. Bendz 1941, 55 regards this verse as a “Parodie poetischen Stiles”, but with no reference to Publilius. Aragosti 1995, 260 n. 156 curtly states that “il sistema d’idee presentato nell’intero capitolo 55 è sapientemente controllato dall’autore e, quindi, non è più

    Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) None of them, however, carried out a serious analysis of the text either; nor is it possible to obtain reliable results from the mere comparison of the poem in Petronius with the Sententiae ascribed to Lucilius, both in view of the fact that the latter’s authorship is not at all certain, and because they are short sentences limited to one line. This being so, it seems to me that a serious attempt at establishing the authorship of 55.6 should be based on the usus scribendi of Petronius himself.77 As a specimen of this type of inquiry, I will dwell on a truly peculiar aspect of our poem: the high concentration of Greek loan words.78 There are no less than eight in sixteen verses, and none of them – it should be remarked – is found in what is left of (or ascribed to) Publilius. Of these eight, four appear elsewhere in Petronius,79 while two others are matched by a Latinized derivative,80 and by the the term which the one employed in the poem derives from,81 respectively. Of the remaining two, one (Carchedonius) is referred to carbunculi,82 and is used in the capacity of technical term denoting a special type of that gem coming from Africa;83 the other is the name of the gem itself: zmaragdus.84 It might seem that no links with the rest of Petronius’ work could be obtained from its mention; but if we consider the apposition accompanying the name of the gem in this poem (pretiosum vitrum), it will not be hard to recognize a distinct echo of these words in those shortly after employed by Habinnas in reference to his

    77

    78 79

    80 81

    82 83 84

    che uno pseudoproblema la dibattutissima questione della paternità publiliana dei senari di 55.6”. Sullivan 1968, 192-193 tries to found Petronius’ authorship on stylistic aspects within the poem itself: alliteration; archaizing flavor of line 6; recherché images, like textile wind, and expressions, like titulus tepidi temporis; Horatian echoes. These arguments are worth considering, but as they do not exceed the limits of the poem itself, their relation to Petronius’ own expressive patterns remains in the background, so that no fully convincing results can be reached. This peculiarity has been noted by Barnes 1971, 48 too, but he draws no other conclusion than the poem’s unrefined level on the one hand, and its affectednes on the other. Spado (v. 3) is also at 27.3; caccabus (v. 6) at 75.4; margarita (v. 9) is also the name of Croesus’ bitch (67.9: this detail has escaped Cavalca 2001, 108, who only registers margaritum at 63.3, besides margarita in our poem); pelagius (v. 10) at 109.7. Phalera (v. 10) is matched by phaleratus (28.4). I am referring to crotalistria (v. 6), which alludes to the stork’s clattering beak. The word was not invented by Petronius, contrary to what is stated by Steele 1919-1920, 286 (it appears in inscriptions and at Prop. 4.5.93). At Petr. 67.9 we read crotalia (possibly a hint at our poem, since it refers to pearl earrings: cf. 56.10). At Petr. 22.6 there is a word formed in the same way: cymbalistria. Petr. 55.6.13-14. Cf. Plin. NH 37.92 carbunculi… horum genera Indici et Garamantici, quos et Carchedonios vocavere propter opulentiam Carthaginis magnae. Petr. 55.6.12 zmaragdum ad quam rem viridem, pretiosum vitrum? 125

    Chapter VI wife’s pearl earrings: fabam vitream.85 The two husbands agree in believing that gems, in and by themselves, are worth no more than glass,86 and are made precious only by people’s (and especially women’s) perverted taste87 – which of course does not prevent them from emphasizing how much they have spent on their wives’ jewels. It is hardly conceivable that both this conceptual (and formal) correspondence and the fact that the Greek loan words we have just analyzed belong in Petronius’ lexicon might merely be due to coincidence with a text by another author. We may extend the inquiry to some of the most peculiar Latin terms appearing in our poem. Giancotti remarks that some of these never occur elsewhere in Petronius;88 but other, even more peculiar, words and expressions do belong in Petronius’ lexicon.89 The conclusion that can be drawn from these data can be reinforced by paying attention to other circumstances, partly already pointed out. The recognizable symmetric structure of the poem90 can be better explained in an independent composition than in a line (or part of a line) uttered by a character in a mime, or at any rate being part of a larger metrical context; and the close conceptual

    85

    86

    87

    88

    89

    90

    126

    Petr. 67.10 excatarissasti me, ut tibi emerem fabam vitream. Strangely enough, Courtney 2001, 111 seems to be the only one to stress the striking similarity linking this passage to 55.6.12. Glass – not being infrangible – is vile (Petr. 50.7). On the story of infrangible glass at chapter 51 see lastly Santini 1986; Tandoi 1992a; Jensson 2004, 230-231. At Petr. 10.1 vitrea fracta is synonymous with “worthless stuff”. For the depreciatory nuance often implied by both vitrum and faba see Citroni 1983, 294 n. 3, with the references. This is a neat reversal of Varro’s sentence (Menipp. 382 Bücheler = Astbury) imperito nonnumquam concha videtur margarita, vitrum smaragdos. The true imperitus, Trimalchio and Habinnas seem to imply, is whoever does not realize that emeralds and pearls are really worth no more than glass. Another relevant parallel is Petr. 51.6 aurum pro luto haberemus (Trimalchio) ~ 67.10 mulieres si non essent, omnia pro luto haberemus (Habinnas). Giancotti 1967, 257. He lists plumato, Babylonico, Numidica, pietaticultrix, gracilipes, crotalistria, ciconia, extraneo, zmaragdum, Carchedonios, scintillet, textilem, prostare, nebula, linea; but for crotalistria see above, note 81 (and the two other words of v. 6 are manifestly burlesque, “archaizing” compounds invented for the occasion); as for scintillet, we should not forget that the name of Habinnas’ wife is Scintilla. E.g. amictus (Petr. 55.6.3): cf. 26.10; 65.3; 97.3. Peregrina (v. 5): cf. 80.9; 91.6; 102.15; 110.7; 127.3. Hospita (v. 5): cf. 135.8.15. Nequitiae (v. 8): cf. 87.4; fr. 33.8 Müller. Nidum... fecit (v. 8): cf. fr. 48.1 Müller. Indicam (v. 9): cf. fr. 45.1 Müller. Tollat pedes (v. 11): cf. 117.12. Indomita (v. 11): cf. 5.20. Strato (v. 11): cf. 21.5; 71.2. Lapideos (v. 13): cf. 62.8; 62.12. Rictus (v. 1) would be paralleled at 5.8, if Ribbeck’s correction ad rictus could be accepted; but we have argued against it. See ch. I. See above, text to notes 29-30.

    Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) connections linking this poem, the context of the Cena,91 and the beginning of the Bellum civile92 amounts to another clue pointing in the same direction. 4. In my opinion, then, the Petronian authorship of the verse at 55.6 cannot be disputed. This, nevertheless, can hardly provide a full explanation as to its meaning and function. According to some scholars, the author has totally superimposed himself upon his character. This conclusion cannot be avoided, if the poem is taken as an original composition written by Petronius and later inserted by him in the novel,93 or at any rate as only aiming to display the author’s poetic ability;94 and whoever regards this verse as a parody of Seneca’s use of Publilius for moral ends can hardly escape the same, unlikely consequence.95 Several scholars contend that an ignoramus like Trimalchio cannot possibly know by heart (and with no metrical mistakes) no less than sixteen lines of any poet.96 This amounts to closing one’s eyes to the fact that in Petronius Trimalchio does know and recite this poem by heart. If this is true, as it undoubtedly is, an unescapable consequence follows, which – inexplicably – has not yet been pointed out, as far as I know. We have seen that this poem is neither by Publilius nor by another historical poet,97 but by Petronius himself. In the narrative fiction, therefore, the author can be none other than Trimalchio, and – in my opinion – Petronius has provided sufficient clues to recognize him as such.98 91 92

    93 94

    95 96 97

    98

    See above, text to notes 85-87. See above, notes 43-44, for the parallels linking these three texts. For the corresponding description of the peacock at 55.6.3 and the duck at 93.2.4 see above, text to note 26. More parallels between these two poems will be pointed out while analyzing 93.2. As done by Friedlaender 1891, 262: “ein eigner Versuch…, den der Verfasser hinläglich gelungen fand, um ihn... in seinem Buche einen Platz zu gönnen”. As done by Maiuri 1945, 188: “Petronio non sa rinunciare a un proprio esercizio di bravura… sulla bocca di Trimalchione quei versi si adattano assai male”; Sullivan 1968, 192: “Petronius allows him (Trimalchio) to step out of character in order to introduce another example of his poetic expertise”. Sullivan’s reference to 132.15 (which I too, like him, believe to express Petronius’ poetics: see ch. XVII) is hardly fitting. At 132.15 the speaker is Encolpius, i.e. the narrator, whose expression is identical with the text of the novel. Trimalchio, by contrast, is hardly fit to become, even for a moment, the author’s spokesman. So Courtney 1991, 21, who must indeed conclude that “the poem was introduced for a motive outside the characterization of Trimalchio”; cf. also Courtney 2001, 107. Besides Sullivan 1968, 192 and Courtney 1991, 21, already quoted, also Barnes 1971, 55; Smith 1975, 148; Panayotakis 1995, 87 n. 87. If the verse at 55.6 had been written by another poet and wrongly attributed to Publilius by Trimalchio (as contended by the scholars listed in note 72) an absurd consequence would follow: Trimalchio would be able to quote the whole poem flawlessly, but not to name its author correctly. The hurdle that cannot be avoided by those who ascribe the poem to Petronius, without accepting either the unlikely superimposition of the author upon his character we illus127

    Chapter VI If Trimalchio is himself the author, then his remembering the poem correctly can hardly pose any problem.99 But why does he ascribe it to Publilius? Here we can recover the notion of the vogue enjoyed by the mime-writer, as testified by Seneca’s philosophic work. Trimalchio, then, presents a composition of his own on a topic so widespread and so popular100 as to entice any scarcely creative amateur, even though it contradicted his actual lifestyle.101 It cannot be ruled out that in his intention these lines mean to mimic what the ignorant freedman believed to be Publilius’ manner,102 but in all probability his real object is to pass off his poem as written by Publilius in order to earn the audience’s approval thanks to a fashionable author’s name.103 Trimalchio behaves like the authors of pseudepigrapha, who were willing to suppress their own name and place their work under the aegis of a recognized authority, as long as it would ensure their writings’ success and survival.104 He takes guard by declaring beforehand that the verses he is about to utter are insuperable. For this reason, after the unexpected coupling of Cicero and Publilius, he leaves Agamemnon no time to reply, but immediately answers his own question as it suits his purpose, and by resorting to a pattern he will again employ shortly after to steer the conversation to a new subject, but not before emphasizing, with a new question he will himself

    99 100 101 102

    103

    104

    128

    trated above, or the notion I propose here that Trimalchio presents his own poem as written by Publilius, is made plain by Gagliardi 1980, 76, who is forced to contradict himself, first declaring the verse to be Petronius’, then stating that Trimalchio’s extravagance is condemned even by his “poeta preferito”, i.e. Publilius. The assumption of Maiuri 1945, 71 that Trimalchio reads the verse at 55.6 on pugillares is not in the least endorsed by the text.. Cf. Giancotti 1967, 244-245 n. 17. Cf. e.g. Collignon 1892, 236; 239; Conte 1996, 119-120; Habermehl 2006, 247. We have seen that Petronius himself resumes the theme at 93.2 and in the Bellum civile. Which does not mean that at the fictional level this contrast plays no role in Trimalchio’s characterization. According to Barnes 1971, 54 the poem “is meant… to be Trimalchio’s impression of what a poem by Publilius was”; cf. Panayotakis 1995, 87: “a Petronian (or, even better, Trimalchionesque) imitation of Publilius’ style”. We now understand why Trimalchio introduces the poem in the same way as Seneca the Elder does with a line from Publilius, which he declares to be excellent. See above, note 67. Honestiorem (55.5) in Trimalchio’s mouth would then mean both “more moral”, inasmuch as the poem picks up the moral themes connected with Publilius’ name, and (hardly consciously) “more fashionable” (cf. above, note 63), given his intention to place his verse under the protection of a fashionable poet’s name – a poet worthy of being compared to Cicero, and actually superior to him, as far as honestas was concerned (both in the moral sense and in relation to his success at the time: unlike Publilius, Cicero was hardly “fashionable” under Nero: cf. Setaioli 2003). In this way Trimalchio aims to place himself in the tradition of the great national literature: we should not miss the reference to Rome opening the poem (Martis… moenia).

    Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) answer, that the most difficult trade to master is being a man of letters:105 a trade of which, by declaring the verse he is about to utter to be insuperable, he will be able to believe, in his heart of hearts, to have attained full command. Trimalchio needs this reassurance, since he is still smarting under the blow of the poetic setback he suffered a few moments before, when we was not able to come up with anything but some metrically seriously defective lines.106 He then wishes to recover from this reverse – with all the precautions we have pointed out to avoid a new failure and to earn the audience’s approval – by reciting the verse at 55.6, which is surely no improvisation,107 as clearly shown by its relative metrical correctness, even though it betrays a somewhat old-fashioned taste, as we have hinted already. The verse at 55.6 must then be assessed in the frame of Trimalchio’s poetic production, as illustrated by the specimens Petronius has chosen to present.108 His poetry develops banal and trite themes, which nevertheless enjoyed right of citizenship in literature (wine and food against impending death and overpowering fortune; moralistic polemicizing against luxury and extravagance), and employs outdated or unliterary metrical patterns (the senarii at 55.6, and two hexameters followed by a pentameter in the two “epigrams”, respectively). 5. The verses recited by Eumolpus at 93.2 present, on the one hand, certain traits that closely connect them with Trimalchio’s at 55.6.109 In the first place the guinea fowl is mentioned as a delicacy in both poems, and the description of the multicolored plumage covering the duck like a dress at 93.2110 is closely related to that of the “embroidered carpet” of the peacock’s feathers at 55.6.111 In the second place, alliteration is lavishly employed at 93.2 too:112 particularly signifi105 106 107 108

    109

    110 111 112

    Petr. 56.1-2 quod autem… putamus secundum litteras difficillimum esse artificium? Ego puto medicum et nummularium. Cf. Maiuri 1945, 121; Giancotti 1967, 237. I am referring, of course, to Petr. 55.3. See ch. V. On this I do not agree with Conte 1996, 120: “the rich ignoramus has even bought himself the right to improvise like a satiric censor”. Petronius does not neglect to let us know that these are only specimens, and that Trimalchio is a dilettante of poetry: during the Cena more of his poems are recited, but Petronius does not report them (41.6). His mimical recitation is also suppressed (35.6). The rich freedman is the epitome of the state of things lamented by Hor. epist. 2.1.117 scribimus indocti doctique poemata passim. Cf. ch. V, text to notes 1 and 63. The two poems are naturally coupled by most scholars: e.g. Sullivan 1998, 193 n. 1; Sochatoff 1969-1970, 344; Barnes 1971, 298; Walsh 1996, 186; Connors 1998, 64; Yeh 2007, 86. For the reading of 93.2.4 see above, § 1. As remarked above (note 26, cf. note 92), this is the strongest argument in favor of Busche’s correction involuta at 93.2.4 (cf. 55.6.3 amictus). Petr. 93.2.2 placent palato; 3 albus anser; 4-5 pictis… pennis / plebeium; 6 attractus…atque arata; 10 quicquid quaeritur. We may add Phasiacis petita (v. 1). See note 32 for alliteration at 55.6. 129

    Chapter VI cant is its occurring at the beginning of the poem, in connection with what, in my opinion, is an open allusion to Trimalchio’s poem:113 a further clue pointing to the Petronian authorship of both compositions. On the other hand, however, the two poems are also marked by unmistakable differences. In the first place, in the verse at 93.2 food plays a more important role than at 55.6, where half the poem is devoted to jewels and clothes. Besides, food includes not merely birds, like in Trimalchio’s lines, but fish too, and – more important – both birds and fish are arranged in two symmetric and opposite groups: two exotic birds are matched by two common ones; and a type of fish from far-away seas (to which a general hint at fish captured in the Syrtes at the cost of shipwrecks is added)114 by one coming from Italy’s coasts.115 What comes from afar is prized, what is native is scorned. This opposition is not found at 55.6. In the latter poem criticism of the quest for the rare and the exotic is accompanied by that of the taste for the unnatural; in Eumolpus’ verse only the former appears: the poem’s theme is perfectly epitomized by the last verse: quicquid quaeritur optimum videtur.116 It is even possible to spot a few cases in which Eumolpus has actually stretched the facts to make them fit the pattern. The passion for the exotic scarus (the parrot-wrasse), imported ultimis ab oris, had in no way diminished the gourmets’ appreciation of the native mullus,117 as our poem might lead one to believe; and the same is true as far as the goose is concerned118 – not to mention roses, which were never eclipsed by cinnamon.119 113 114 115 116

    117

    118

    119

    130

    Petr. 93.3.2 placent palato ~ 55.6.2 palato… pavo pascitur. Cf. Plin. NH 19.52 ostrearum genera naufragio exquiri, quoted by Habermehl 2006, 247. Immediately after Pliny adds: aves ultra Phasim amnem peti (cf. Petr. 93.2.1). Cf. Habermehl 2006, 242, 244. Cf. v. 3 quod non sunt faciles. It is the theme developed, e.g., by Sen. Helv. 10.5 o miserabiles, quorum palatum nisi ad pretiosos cibos non excitatur! Pretiosos autem non eximius sapor aut aliqua faucium dulcedo, sed raritas et difficultas parandi facit. Cf. Courtney 1991, 27; Habermehl 2006, 247. The very classification of the scarus (on which see lastly Habermehl 2006, 246) as an exotic fish may serve the purpose of preserving the pattern. The scarus had indeed been acclimated in Italy’s waters since Tiberius’ time (cf. Plin. NH 9.62-63), and was occasionally found there even earlier (cf. Hor. epod. 2.50-52). Petronius (and Eumolpus) himself, in the portion of the Bellum civile we have repeatedly referred to – in which the pattern of opposition is lacking – places the scarus in Sicily (Petr. 119.33): in other words, he takes the circumstances of his own time into account: cf. González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 182. Cf. Habermehl 2006, 244, with the references. The fattened liver of the goose was especially appreciated. Like the duck, the goose too has a “plebeian flavor” according to Eumolpus. Touches of this type are lacking at 55.6, not because Trimalchio is speaking precisely to plebians (as maintained by Barnes 1971, 298), but because the two poems have a different structure and the opposition established by Eumolpus is not found in Trimalchio’s verse. Cf. Habermehl 2006, 247, with the references. At Plaut. Curc. 100 the rose and cinnamon are clearly on a par, even though the latter was a luxury item: cf. e.g. Ov. met. 10.308.

    Perverted Taste (Petr. 55.6; 93.2) What Eumolpus wants to effect is clearly an opposition between the rare and exotic on the one hand and the native and easily accessible on the other, in association with the depreciation of the latter, regardless of the popularity even native items might in fact enjoy.120 Finally, the connection with moral decay – though no doubt supposed here too – is much less marked than in Trimalchio’s verse at 55.6. The theme of food, as we have hinted, is crucial in 93.2. This may be partly due to the fact that Eumolpus seems to take the cue from the meal he has been invited to share with Encolpius, even though the conditions in which the text has been transmitted should advise caution.121 It might seem natural to assume the sentence preceding in the prose122 to be meant to confer a wider scope on the poem, which would then refer not merely to food but, more generally, to the desire for everything that is hard to reach or forbidden. At first glance this may appear to be confirmed by the final verses, with their shift from the opposition between exotic and domestic fare to one between wife and lover on the one hand and rose and cinnamon on the other. These latter examples, however, do not amount to a self-standing section, as was the case with bodily ornaments in the poem at 55.6. They are only further illustrations of the statement already made about food: the exotic and the rare is preferred to the usual and easy.123 It is then difficult to detach the final sentence of the poem (quicquid quaeritur optimum videtur) from the all-encompassing gastronomic reference, although it does con120

    121

    122 123

    It is interesting to note that Martial insists on a curious reversal: Hannibal, a Carthaginian, feeds on the Italian goose, but spares the guinea fowl of his own land: Mart. 13.73 ansere Romano quamvis satur Hannibal esset / ipse suas numquam barbarus edit aves. Is Martial alluding to our poem? According to Courtney 1991, 26, it has influenced the panegyrist Pacatus (Pacatus, pan. Lat. 2.14.2: a passage linked to Petr. 93.2 by several common traits). Most interpreters share the opinion we have hinted at: according to Aragosti 1995, 364 n. 274 the sentence preceding the poem (93.1) is Eumolpus’ final remark concerning the meal offered by Encolpius. For Courtney 1991, 26 Eumolpus “makes the best of the frugal fare”; Walsh 1970, 98 (cf. Walsh 1996, 186) believes the poem to be Eumolpus’ ironical comment about the frugality of Encolpius’ table. Cf. also Habermehl 2006, 241. According to Habermehl 2006, 240 there is no lacuna between the sentence at 93.1 (vile est quod licet, et animus errore lentus iniurias diligit) and the verse, contrary to the opinion of Bücheler 1862, 111. The poem would be the natural development of this sentence (cf. Barnes 1971, 299), which would be picked up by the last verse (Habermehl 2006, 248). By contrast, Paratore 1933, II, 311 believes the sentence at 93.1 to prove that the poem has nothing to do with the meal offered by Encolpius; according to Slater 1990a, 183 the relation of this poem to the prose context is unclear. Panayotakis 1995, 125 sees in lines 8-9 (amica vincit / uxorem) a hint at Eumolpus’ sexual desire for Giton. But it should be reminded that Eumolpus aspires to the role of vir, not of amica, and at the same time that Encolpius cannot be paired with the uxor either. Cf. preceding note. Cf. Habermehl 247: “der Geist, der sich beim Tafel zeigt, macht sich auch in anderen Lebensbereichen breit. Das Häuslich-Vertraute muß dem Exotisch-Neuen weichen”. 131

    Chapter VI tribute to suggest a wider and more general meaning than a one-sided relation to the quest for exotic delicacies.

    132

    Chapter VII A Night of Love (Petr. 79.8)* Qualis nox fuit illa, di deaeque, quam mollis torus! Haesimus calentes et transfudimus hinc et hinc labellis errantes animas. Valete curae mortalis; ego sic perire coepi.

    5

    L(=lmrtp) 5 mortales lmgtmg

    The hendecasyllables describing the bliss of Encolpius’ and Giton’s night of love, before the fickle boy deserts his lover to follow Ascyltos, neatly define, as Beck has rightly remarked,1 the level of what the protagonist and narrator of the Satyrica experiences or has experienced at the moment of the situation being narrated, as distinct from the later stage in time at which those very same experiences are narrated by an older, and presumably more mature and detached Encolpius. In fact, the clearly sought and intentional contrast between this poem and the prose which follows could hardly be more apparent, and it is emphasized by the narating voice’s comment, by which the utter groundlessness of the amorous elation expressed in the poem is pitilessly exposed with not so much as one word of transition: sine causa gratulor mihi. Connors has good reasons to emphasize the irony stemming from this contrast.2 * 1 2

    A version of this chapter has appeared with the title La poesia in Petr. Sat. 79.8, “Prometheus” 27, 2001, 136-144. Beck 1973, 58-59. Connors 1998, 69. On the one hand she stresses the terminology’s ambiguousness, since the following prose sheds a different light on words that could be understood quite differently, if the poem stood alone: errantes, transfudimus, perire, even the qualis which opens the poem; on the other hand she emphasizes the traditional nature of the themes

    Chapter VII It may be added that in the following prose Petronius has not failed to allude to the preceding poem, as he does elsewhere too,3 this time in order to achieve a desecrating contrast.4 It should not however be forgotten that the verse’s irony is only grasped through reading the poem in the light of the unexpected denouement found in the prose. Like the poem in hexameters clearly reminiscent of the famous love scene between Zeus and Hera in Iliad 14, which appears just before Encolpius’ unexpected impotence,5 our hendecasyllables contain nothing suggesting parody.6 This is only perceived when they are read with the prose. Like that poem, these lines keep close to the topic and atmosphere of the genre functioning as a model, which in this case is not Homeric epic, but erotic poetry. Barnes7 notes the closeness of our verse to Catullus; the latter is indeed directly brought to mind both by the meter (the Phalaecean hendecasyllable) and by the naturalness with which the poem fits into the narrated episode,8 as directly and unaffectedly as some of Catullus’ nugae seem to mirror the poet’s real experiences. This is probably an effect intentionally contrived by Petronius in order to stress the contrast mentioned above between the seemingly spontaneous description of an experience intensely lived and enjoyed at the moment, and the very different point of view from which the very same situation is seen and portrayed in the narrator’s recollection. If our poem is in some ways close to Catullus, there is no doubt that it displays a set of themes which is paralleled in a great number of erotic poets, both Greek and Roman. But in spite of the undeniably typical topic connecting it with the whole genre, we will be justified in asserting that it is especially close to Propertius, particularly to one of his elegies, though there are several hints at some other poems by him. Our poem, indeed, picks up several themes that appear at various points of Propertius’ elegy 2.15:9 for example, the opening exclamation, associating the

    3 4 5 6

    7 8 9

    134

    (but, as we shall see, it is not true that the theme of the mutual passage of the soul from one lover to the other was common before Petronius). Cf. e.g. Petr. 81.5 reliquit veteris amicitiae nomen, which clearly alludes to 80.9.1 nomen amicitiae. See ch. VIII. Petr. 79.10 gaudio despoliatum torum, which is clearly opposed to quam mollis torus (79.8.2) – a widespread topos of erotic poetry. Cf. below, note 10. I am referring of course to Petr. 127.9. See ch. XIV. Barnes 1971, 297 believes he can recognize parody in the poem itself, whose expressions, in his opinion, are “steamy and overdone”. He must concede, however, that only through Giton’s behavior described in the prose does Encolpius become “the butt of humor”. Barnes 1971, 296-297; cf. already Paratore 1933, II 274-275. The lacuna marked before the poem in the tradition could hardly contain anything essential for the development of the story. The contacts between our poem and Propertius were pointed out by Stubbe 1933, 170; later by Lundström 1967-1978, 71; finally by Courtney 1991, 23. For an analysis of Prop. 2.15, besides the Propertian commentaries, see Stoessl 1948, 107-114.

    A Night of Love (Petr. 79.8) night and the bed, closely reminds the reader of the words at the beginning of Propertius’ elegy.10 The theme of the united lovers, which follows immediately in Petronius, appears farther down in the same elegy.11 The widespread topic of the soul’s passage from one lover to the other through the kiss is also hinted at in this elegy,12 although it is more clearly developed by Propertius in another poem.13 Finally, the theme of the apotheosis of the gratified lover is also closely paralleled in the same composition,14 as well as elsewhere in Propertius.15 We shall come back, in a note, to the possible Propertain connections of the image closing Petronius’ poem: Encolpius’ amorous “death”. These themes were not, of course, limited to Propertius;16 they were widespread in erotic poetry, and it would be possible to point out a great number of

    10

    11

    12 13

    14

    15 16

    Petr. 79.8.1-2 qualis nox fuit illa, di deaeque, / quam mollis torus! ~ Prop. 2.15.1-2 o me felicem! O nox mihi candida! Et tu / lectule deliciis facte beate meis. After Propertius and Petronius the night and the bed are coupled by Mart. 10.38.4-7. The two themes commonly appear, separately, in erotic poetry. The mention of the night of love is frequent, but the reference, or the appeal, to the bed is not rare either: at Rome already Ticidas, fr. 1 felix lectule talibus / sole amoribus; cf. Philod. AP 5.4.5 . The expression mollis torus has exact counterparts in erotic poetry: Tibull. 1.2.58; Ov. am. 2.4.12; ars 2.712; and in Propertius too (1.3.34). Petr. 79.8.2 haesimus ~ Prop. 2.15.25 haerentis… nos. The theme is again picked up by Petronius in a later prose passage which, not unlike our poem, describes the two lovers united in a bond of love and death : 114.10 ne sic cohaerentes malignus fluctus distraheret… This scene partly redeems the parody clearly apparent in our poem, in which a union momentarily to be dissolved is described, whereas Propertius aspires to eternal love (Prop. 2.15.25-26 atque utinam haerentis sic nos vincire catena / velles, ut numquam solveret ulla dies). For Propertius’ influence on Petronius’ passage see Lundström 1967-1968, 71-96. Prop. 2.15.9-10 quantum / oscula sunt labris nostra morata tuis! Prop. 1.13.17 et cupere optatis animam deponere labris ~ Petr. 78.9-3-4 et transfudimus hinc et hinc labellis / errantes animas. In Propertius labris is a correction by Passeratius accepted by all modern editors and undoubtedly to be preferred to the transmitted reading verbis. Petr. 78.9.4-5 valete, curae / mortalis ~ Prop. 2.15.39-40 si dabit et multas (scil. noctes), fiam immortalis in illis: / nocte una quivis vel deus esse potest. Petronius’ mortalis is certainly to be referred to curae: cf. Courtney 1991, 23, with the references (though only related to -is forms of the nominative, not of the vocative plural: Neue-Wagener 18923, 60; Sommer 19142-3, 382; Leumann 1965, 440; lastly Nyman 1990). Already Burman 1743, I, 508 protested the interpretations of those who, like Bourdelot, took mortalis for a nominative singular referred to ego, which does not fit the meter. He preferred to read mortales. Prop. 2.14.9-10 quanta ego praeterita collegi gaudia nocte: / immortalis ero, si altera talis erit. Although, as mentioned above (note 10), the coupling of the night and the bed does not appear to be common before him. 135

    Chapter VII parallels for each.17 There is more: we shall see that in some cases Petronius’ treatment of these themes supposes models in which they were more explicitly developed than in Propertius. Nevertheless, the simultaneous presence of so many of them in the elegy we have mentioned leads us to surmise that it must have been in Petronius’ mind. The two key themes of this composition, at any rate, are the idea of the exchange of the lovers’ souls through the kiss and the one closing the poem, which in my opinion is related to the former: the amorous “death”. The theme of the soul passing from the lover to the beloved through the kiss already appears in a famous epigram which both Diogenes Laertius and the Anthologia Palatina attribute to Plato.18 The theme has been analyzed in-depth by Dahlmann, who provides an all but complete survey of its occurrences in ancient literature.19 In some cases we discover surprising correspondences with our Petronian poem: for example in a passage by the Greek novelist Achilles Tatius,20 where not merely the natural hint at the lovers’ lips is found, but also the “heat” (cf. Petronius’ calentes) of love’s pleasure is mentioned, and even Petronius’ errare has its counterpart – a text thus assembling three of our poem’s themes. The comparison suffices to prove that Petronius is following an established tradition of the novelistic genre, possibly deliberately transferring to

    17

    18 19

    20

    136

    For haerere in erotic sense, e.g. Lucr. 4.1113, 1205; Ov. met. 4.184. For calere cf. TLL III 1, 148, 30 ff.; 52 ff.; this verb is repeatedly employed by Petronius in erotic contexts, also in verse (126.5; 132.15.6). For the amorous apotheosis, the theme already appears in a celebrated poem by Sappho: , which had been translated into Latin by Catullus. In a more clearly sexual context, besides the Propertian passages quoted in notes 14-15, cf. e.g. Dioscorid. AP 5.55.1-2 … /… ; also Rufin. AP 5.94.4. For the other themes of the poem cf. above, note 10, and below. Diog. Laert. 3.32 = AP 5.78 ! ( AP)" / # $ Dahlmann 1979, 5-8; cf. also Ludwig 1989. Limiting ourselves to antiquity (the theme has a long history in medieval and modern literature too), we should also quote, in the first place, Mattiacci 1988, 201-205; then Enk’s and Fedeli’s commetaries on Prop. 1.13.17. Cf. also Stubbe 1933, 170. Achill. Tat. 2.37.9-10 ! % & & & ' # $ ! & ( # " & $) % * $ + % % ! % . The theme of erotic “heat” is coupled (alone) with the exchange of souls through the kiss also by Claudian, 14.23-25 et labris animam conciliantibus / alternum rapiat somnus anhelitum. / Amplexu caleat purpura regio / …

    A Night of Love (Petr. 79.8) a homoerotic context a topic that in Achilles Tatius is connected with heterosexual love in distinct opposition to pederasty. Achilles Tatius’ passage, to be sure, does not refer to the soul, but to breath roused by erotic panting and to the heart; besides, though both partners appear to be deeply involved and the man’s kiss does mix with the woman’s , it seems that only the former’s heart strives to rise from below, though it is held in place by the bonds linking it to the body. What is missing, then, or at least is not clearly expressed, is the theme of reciprocality (exchange of the souls), which, however, is hinted at shortly before our passage in Achilles Tatius.21 As far as we know, at any rate, the idea of the mutual exchange of the lovers’ souls through the kiss is introduced to literature by Petronius,22 who also picks it up in a later prose passage.23 Only after him will it become current in erotic literature.24 Before Petronius it is the lover – or at any rate the partner who is giving the kiss – who either transfuses his own soul to the beloved, as it is the case with Plato’s epigram25 and Propertius,26 or takes into himself the soul of the beloved – or at any rate of the partner receiving the kiss – as we see in some epigrams in the Anthologia Palatina.27 There is no hint at an exchange working both ways, and consequently the two partners are not placed on a par. It appears to be no chance that the extended Latin reworking of Plato’s epigram’s one couplet transmitted by Gellius,28 though not linguistically influenced by Petronius’ poem, is not content with the theme of the lover’s soul being transferred to the beloved, but adds the specularly complementary idea of the

    21

    22 23 24

    25 26 27

    28

    Achill. Tat. 2.8.2

    # ( . Dahlmann 1979, 7-8 believes the theme of reciprocation to be present in the passage quoted in the preceding note too. As already stated, in my opinion it is not there, or at least it is not clearly expressed. Petr. 78.9.3-4 et transfudimus hinc et hinc labellis / errantes animas. Petr. 132.1 iam alligata mutuo ambitu corpora animarum quoque mixturam fecerant. See Dahlmann 1979, 8; Di Simone 1993, 103. Besides Achilles Tatius’ passage quoted above, note 21, cf. Aristaen. 2.19, p. 170 Hercher & ' % " , # " % ( . See now the commentary of Drago 2007, 589. For the Latin adaptation of Plato’s epigram see below, text to notes 28-29. See above, note 18. Prop. 1.13.17. Cf. above, note 13. Meleag. AP 5.171.3-4 / . Cf. Id. AP 12.133.5-6 . / ! % $ Cf. also Macr. Sat. 2.2.15-17. 137

    Chapter VII absorption of the beloved’s spiritus on the part of the lover,29 thus establishing a reciprocality that is missing in the model. It appears, then, that Petronius bestowed conceptual and expressive originality on a theme current in erotic literature. The reference to death (perire), that comes shortly after, may even suggest that possibly he had another widespread idea more or less consciously in mind: a dying person’s soul being taken into oneself through the last kiss on the part of the survivor.30 The verb errare, though perfectly fitting an erotic context,31 immediately reminds us of the famous Virgilian passage in which Anna wishes to take into herself her dying sister’s soul.32 Besides, transfundere – a verb which occurs nowhere else in what survives of Petronius – appears at a later time in specific reference to this idea.33 The fusion of the two themes (the transfer of the soul through the kiss, both in love and in death) is unmistakably documented in a poetic text of almost morbid sensuousness: Bion’s poem on the death of Adonis (though his death is real, not metaphorical or symbolical, like in Petronius’ poem).34 29

    30

    31 32

    33

    34

    138

    Gell. 19.11.3, vv. 3-4 dulcemque florem spiritus / duco ex aperto tramite. As we can see, the unnamed “translator” added the idea of reciprocality by grafting Meleager’s idea of the soul of the partner receiving the kiss being “swallowed up” by the partner who kisses (cf. note 27) onto Plato’s poem: duco ~ (cf. ).Besides, dulcemque florem spiritus corresponds to … . For spiritus cf. Achilles Tatius’ (above, note 20). An all but complete survey of the occurrences of this idea may be found in Pease 1935, 524-525 (commentary to Verg. Aen. 4.684-685 extremus si quis super halitus errat, / ore legam). Cf. also Dahlmann 1979, 7, who quotes, among others, Manil. 5.623-624 pernoctesque patres cupiant extrema suorum / oscula et in proprias animam transferre medullas. The idea on which this conception is based, namely that at the moment of leaving the body the soul approaches the latter’s superficial openings, appears in Petronius too (62.5 mihi anima in naso esse). Cf. Achill. Tat. 2.37.9, quoted above, note 20 ( & & ); also Lucr. 4.1104 errantes incerti corpore toto. Verg. Aen. 4.684-685 (above, note 30). On Petronius’ usage of errare see Fedeli 1987, 7 n. 8 (concerning Petr. 79.8.4 he notes: “l’anima passa di bocca in bocca grazie al bacio; ma al tempo stesso errare indica il delirio dei sensi”. I would rather stress the soul’s bewilderment – , as Plato says – as it leaves its own body to enter another’s: a state similar to Dido’s soul, which is also about to leave the body) Even with the same reciprocality we find in Petronius: Ambros. de exc. fratris 1.19 putabam… quod aut tuam mortem ipse susciperem aut meam vitam in te ipse transfunderem… atque utinam si tuam nequivi meo spiritu vitam producere, vel ultimi anhelitus tui vigor transfundi potuisset in meam mentem… Bion 1.45-49 % ! % %/ ( ' %/ & / / % & - / . Cf. also Dahlmann 1979, 7. As we can see, though the themes of the transfusion of the soul through the kiss in love and death are fused here, the idea of reciprocality (exchange between the two lovers) is missing here too.

    A Night of Love (Petr. 79.8) In the light of this, then, determining the exact meaning and import of our poem’s last image (of death: perire coepi) as well as its relation to what precedes becomes even more important. The very words that come immediately before (valete, curae / mortalis), though, as we saw, they refer to the widespread theme of the gratified lover’s apotheosis, receive a retrospective ambiguous nuance from the picture of death closing the poem: underneath the cry of triumph, they might almost appear to bid a covert farewell to life. The amorous “death” which in the last verse begins35 to take possession of the protagonist is commonly interpreted as a metaphorical hint at sexual climax36 – a meaning not unparalleled in Latin erotic language;37 but different explanations have been proposed too.38 The one put forward by Ehlers,39 though it can hardly be accepted as formulated due to his substitution of subjective will for the text’s reference to an objective and real beginning, may be justified if we assume that what Petronius had in mind was the wish to die in lovemaking, which is attested in Greek comedy and effectively expressed by Ovid.40 Encolpius has reached such a high level of amorous gratification that he cannot hope ever to surpass it – which not merely justifies, but to some extent begins to fulfill, that wish. That this idea may lurk, more or less intentionally, behind our poem’s final words can hardly be ruled out. The most plausible interpretation, however, is probably the one prompted by a comparison with some of the poetic composi35 36 37

    38

    39 40

    The interpretation of Barthius ap. Burman 1743, I, 508, who takes coepi to be merely phraseologic, and perire coepi to mean simply perii, is not acceptable. E.g. Connors 1998, 69: “sex is figured as ‘death’”; Barnes 1971, 297; 309 n. 21; so also several translations. Cf. Adams 1982, 159. The clearest instance is Apul. met. 2.17 occide moriturus. Prop. 1.10.5 complexa morientem, Galle, puella could also be interpreted otherwise. Adams has no doubt as to the sexual meaning of our Petronian passage. The most common takes sic perire coepi to mean “from that happy moment began my undoing”. So Heseltine 1913, 157 (“so began my destruction”); Stubbe 1933, 170 (“den Eintritt in den Zustand, der es Enkolp noch ermöglicht, die Störung seiner Seligkeit wahrzunehmen”); Scarsi 1996, 113 (“in quella notte cominciò la mia fine”); Habermehl 2006, 10; perhaps also Walsh 1996, 67 (“yet this spelt death”). Attention, however, must be called to the fact that the text has sic, not inde or something equivalent. The interpretation of Dronke 19682, I, 175 cannot be accepted. He believes that in these words “a glimpse of eternity strives against the senses’ heaviness”. Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 161: “ich wollte jetzt vergehen”. Philetaerus fr. 6.1-2 (Poetae Comici Graeci, edd. R. Kassel et C. Austin, VII, Berolini et Novi Eboraci 1989, 325) ( / ( # ( / …0 Cf. Philetaerus fr. 9.4 (ibid., 327); and Ov. am. 2.10.29-36 felix, quem Veneris certamina mutua perdunt! / Di faciant, leti causa sit ista mei! / … / at mihi contingat Veneris languescere motu, / cum moriar, medium solvar et inter opus; perhaps also Prop. 2.26.57-58 quod mihi si ponenda tuo sit corpore vita, / exitus hic nobis non inhonestus erit. Prop. 2.1.47 laus in amore mori surely has a different meaning; but in amore could also be understood as “during lovemaking”: cf. Prop. 2.9.48. 139

    Chapter VII tions developing the theme of the transfer of the soul from the lover to the beloved,41 the most interesting of which, from our point of view, is probably the Latin reworking of Plato’s epigram transmitted by Gellius we have repeatedly mentioned.42 From this we gather that, if the kiss had lasted a moment longer, the lover’s soul, i.e. his vital principle, would have passed into the body of the puer and left the lover lifeless.43 Encolpius, who has reached, or is about to reach, the coveted fusion of his own soul with his beloved’s, begins to feel in himself this unutterable amorous death. The text’s coepi fits a gradual process like this much better than the instantaneity of sexual climax. In addition, this interpretation tightly connects the final image of the poem with the central idea of the transfer of the souls, thus sealing the unity and cohesiveness of the composition.

    41

    42

    43

    140

    Callim. epigr. 41.4 Pfeiffer = AP 12.73.1-4 ( % ( / ) !1 ( % $/ 2 0 / " ‘ % ’. Cf. the Latin adaptation by Lutat. Catul. fr. 1.1-4 aufugit mi animus; credo, ut solet, ad Theotimum / devenit. Sic est, perfugium illud habet. / Quid, si non interdixem, ne illunc fugitivum / mitteret ad se intro, sed magis eiceret? On Lutatius Catulus’ epigram and its Callimachean model see Perutelli 1990, 259-269, 277-281. Gell. 19.11.3, vv. 11-17 tum si morae quid plusculae / fuisset in coetu osculi, / Amoris igni percita / transisset et me linqueret, / et mira prorsus res foret, / ut fierem ad me mortuus, / ad puerulum intus viverem. Cf. also Mattiacci 1988, 204.

    Chapter VIII Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9)* Nomen amicitiae si, quatenus expedit, haeret, calculus in tabula mobile ducit opus; cum fortuna manet, vultum servatis, amici; cum cecidit, turpi vertitis ora fuga. Grex agit in scaena mimum: pater ille vocatur, filius hic, nomen divitis ille tenet. Mox ubi ridendas inclusit pagina partes, vera redit facies, assimulata perit.

    5

    L(=lmrtp)O(=BRP) 1-4 1-8 Ioh. Sarisb. Pol. 3.7 5-6 Ioh. Sarisb. Pol. 8.3 1 amicitia est si Labate sic Muncker, edd. plerique 2 ut tabula… ludit Muncker 3 dum Flor. Brit. Mus. Egerton 646 (saec. XV), ut coniecit Jahn cultum Shackleton Bailey 4 cedit Richardus 5-8 hos versus asteriscis a prioribus separavit p2. Ex alio loco inlatos putavit Bücheler, quem secuti sunt edd. plerique 7 machina dubitanter Bücheler: pergula Strelitz, Nisbet: plaudite seu fabula Watt 8 assimulata Dousa: dum simulata Bücheler: dissimulata

    1. The first problem to be solved before an analysis of the poem at 80.9 can even be attempted concerns the question of its unity. In the manuscript tradition, to be sure, there is nothing to suggest a division of the text in two parts;1 but Pithou, in * 1

    A version of this chapter has appeared with the title La poesia in Petronio, Sat. 80.9, “Prometheus” 27, 2001, 57-72. Actually, an admittedly scarcely authoritative manuscript, A (i.e. the excerpta vulgaria in the Paris. Lat. 7989, olim Traguriensis, which also contains H, i.e. the Cena), offers the subscriptio “versus VIII” after our poem – which means that the copyist regardeded this verse as one poem.

    Chapter VIII his second edition (1587), separated the first four lines from the four that follow with three asterisks: an intervention which, judging from what we know, can only be regarded as conjectural and probably prompted by the seemingly problematical connection of the theme of friendship betrayed with the topos of life as theatrics. Pithou was followed by Bücheler in his 1862 edition, on the grounds of an alleged insertion of the last four lines from somewhere else through the agency of an interpolator.2 After him the division of the poem in two parts of four lines has become current in editions, where it is typographically marked,3 and in numerous essays.4 Nobody, or nearly nobody, however, has tried to base the division of the text on a less flimsy foundation than the one we have hinted at. Slater5 believes the omission of the last four lines in the Florilegium Gallicum ( ) to prove that our eight verses were two separate poems, but this is far from being a proof, since there are several instances of the tradition transmitting only a part of poetic compositions that are surely one unit.6 By the same token, one might contend that the verse is one poem on the basis of John of Salisbury’s quotation of the eight lines,7 or of the subscriptio in manuscript A we have mentioned in a footnote.8 A well conducted but largely aprioristic attempt at establishing dislocations and transpositions in the section of Petronius’ text which includes our verse and the immediately following prose has been carried out by Van Thiel, who takes it for granted that the poem should be divided in two parts of four

    2 3

    4

    5 6

    7 8

    142

    A clear and detailed picture of the question is provided by Aragosti 1995, 330 n. 235; Labate 1995b, 169-170; Conte 1996, 82 n. 13. Among critical editions I will mention Ernout 1923 (which marks no lacuna at the end of the eight verses); Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950; all of Müller’s editions; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995; also Heseltine 1913. Among popular editions, e.g. Ciaffi 19672; Canali 1990; Reverdito 1995; Scarsi 1996. We will say more later on Courtney 1991. In the first place Habermehl 2006, 24-26, who believes the eight verses to be two consecutive, separate poems, both in their original place (like, according to him, the verse at 109.9-10), and the last four lines to refer to the “tragic” scene preceding Giton’s “betrayal” of Encolpius. He must admit, however, that there are conspicuous contacts between the first four lines and the following four. I shall also mention Paratore 1933, II, 277-278, and Barnes 1971, 279, who thinks that a prose “bridge” between the two groups of four verses has been lost; like Habermehl, then, he does not believe that the second “quatrain” has been inserted here by an interpolator. Cf. also Panayotakis 1995, 114 (below, note 14), and the further scholars we shall quote later on. Slater 1987, 216 n. 4. Of Petr. 14.2 only lines 1-2 and 5 are given by ; only a part of line 10 of 133.3; only vv. 33-38, 40-44, 24-26, 87-89, 56-57, 61-66, 79-81, and 90-93 of the Bellum civile. Besides, only the part in elegiac couplets (109.9) of 109.9-10, which, like ch. 5, is surely one poem, although comprised of two parts in different meters. See ch. XII. As done by Conte 1996, 82 n. 13. Cf. above, note 1.

    Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) lines.9 We hardly need to examine the details of his argumentation, since he has already been convincingly refuted by Labate,10 whose keen criticism clearly shows that Van Thiel’s reasoning, far from proving an aprioristically assumed thesis, can at most show that it is not manifestly untenable. On the other hand, there is a good number of scholars, including some authoritative ones, who uphold the unity of the poem. Emphasis is laid, in the first place, on the fact that the theme developed in the first four lines is nothing but a specific case to be included in the more general motif treated in the final four lines: a friendship that ends with the failing of fortune is just one instance of pretense, like all the roles that are played on life’s stage.11 Secondly, parallels in the two quatrains are pointed out, which amount to veritable formal references to each other.12 Finally, Labate, the most resolute defender of the poem’s unity, remarks that Lucretius had already coupled the themes developed in the two parts of the poem: men’s real “identity” as exposed by adverse fortune, and theatrical make-believe.13 Some of the links uniting the two parts of the poem are not missed even by the advocates of separation, but for the most part they prefer to regard them as a stimulus which encouraged a hypothetical interpolator to join two originally independent poems.14 This is a clear case of begging the question, and besides we would have to lend the imaginary interpolator a literary finesse little short of the author’s. 9 10 11

    12

    13 14

    Van Thiel 1971, 13, 37-38. Labate 1995b, 170-171 and nn. 16-17. Cf. Pellegrino 1975, 109; also Stubbe 1933, 171; Ciaffi 1955, 50 (followed by Aragosti 1995, 330 n. 235); Labate 1995b, 172; Conte 1996, 82-83; Vergé-Borderolle 1999, 6; Plaza 2000, 165-168; Sommariva 2003, 286; Jensson 2004, 9-10; Mazzilli 2006; Yeh 2007, 107-108. Another upholder of the poem’s unity is Brozek 1965, 430, but he erroneously believes the lines on the mime to mention just two roles, not three (pater, filius, dives); he is corrected by Stöcker 1969, 152. According to Harrison 2003, 130-131 the eight lines are one poem, but the two “quatrains” should be inverted. What Ciaffi 1955, 50-51 calls “corrispondenze più segrete”: nomen amicitiae (v. 1) corresponds to nomen divitis (v. 6); vultum (v. 3) and ora (v. 4) to facies (v. 8). Strangely enough, Ciaffi 19672, 210-212 separates the two parts. Labate 1995b, 172 limits the first correspondence to the repetition of nomen, because, as we shall see, he proposes a conjecture eliminating the first epexegetical genitive (amicitiae). Labate 1995b, 172-173. The reference is to Lucr. 3.55-58, on which see § 2 and note 33. So e.g. Slater 1990b, 159, who believes that the interpolator who linked the lines on the mime to those on false friendship “was impelled by a recognition of the theatricality of friendship in Petronius’ world”. Similarly Panayotakis 1995, 114: “this idea of life as a theatrical game (implied at 80.9.1-4) is reinforced by the second short poem” (though Panayotakis does not refer to an interpolator); Courtney 1991, 24 believes the formal correspondences to expose the interpolator’s intention to clarify the first poem through the second (vera redit facies, v. 8, would shed light on vultum servatis, v. 3). On Habermehl 2006, 24-26 see above, note 4. 143

    Chapter VIII In fact, the upholders of the poem’s division do not succeed in avoiding readily apparent contradictions and equivocations. Strictly speaking, on the basis of Bücheler’s premiss (i.e. that lines 5-8 are displaced here) they should logically maintain that the second quatrain fits the context less than the first one. This is indeed Slater’s position in an article,15 but in his book on Petronius we find the opposite assertion: the ill-fitting lines would be the first four.16 The contradiction is blatant in Connors’ essay, when she writes that lines 5-8 have been added later to lines 1-4, but those that hardly fit the context are the latter.17 It should at any rate be recognized that the moralistic generalization of the first four lines, on the reversals of fortune exposing false friends, does not perfectly correspond to the situation described in the preceding prose.18 This is conceded even by scholars who take no position on the question of unity, like Walsh,19 or tend to regard the verse as one poem, like Stöcker.20 In reality the poem can be correctly understood and its connection with the context accurately appreciated only if it is considered in its organic unity. Courtney realized that, at line 4, vertitis ora in lieu of the more common vertere terga is determined by the reference to vultum in the preceding line.21 We may add that this innovation appears all the more intentional and significant inasmuch as Petronius has some Ovidian passages22 in mind which suppose precisely the more usual expression.23 The change of the object imparts a special 15

    16

    17

    18 19

    20 21 22

    23

    144

    Slater 1990b, 159: “it has for some time been recognized that the elegiacs in Satyricon 80.9 form two separate poems. Only the first, which treats the fickleness of friendship, is particularly apposite to the context”. According to Courtney 1991, 24, “lines 5-8 are hard to relate to this context”. Slater 1990a, 164: “it (the first quatrain of 80.9) is not perfectly appropriate, however, because the poem says friends will desert when fortune does. Ascyltos and Encolpius have parted because of jealousy, not changes in material fortune”. Connors 1998, 69-70: “the episode is rounded out with four lines on the fickleness of friends who remain only so long as fortuna remains (80.9.1-4), to which the epigram comparing the novel’s action to the mime has been attached (80.9.5-8…). The fortuna poem… fits oddly into the frame here, for the aggression of Ascyltos has separated Encolpius from Giton, rather than any discernible reversal of fortune”. Habermehl 2006, 265 would have me say that these four lines have little reference to Giton’s betrayal. What I do say is that they do not perfectly fit the whole situation. Walsh 1970, 93: “the references to fortune’s fall and the squalid flight have little reference to Encolpius’ situation”. Walsh’s suggestion that the verse refers to the political situation under Nero must be taken with caution. Stöcker 1969, 152 n. 2: “die ersten vier Versen können sich nicht gut auf Askylt beziehen (turpi fuga), der Enkolp als Sieger verlassen hat”. Courtney 1991, 24; cf. Sommariva 2003, 289. When Petronius expresses the same idea not in poetry’s literary language but by imitating live speech, he employs a colorful ellipsis: 88.13 ubi semel res inclinata est, amici de medio. Cf. Ov. Pont. 3.2.7-8 ignoscimus illis, / qui cum fortuna terga dedere fugae; trist. 3.5.5-6 ut cecidi cunctique metu fugere ruinam / versaque amicitiae terga dedere

    Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) nuance to the verb: Petronius’ vertitis no doubt preserves its original meaning, which is guaranteed by the image of the fuga already appearing in the Ovidian model; but we may recognize a clever polysemy grafting the idea of “changing” onto the basic idea of “turning”: friends change the expression of their faces24 because of the change of fortuna – they shamefully turn their back with changed expression. This transition is adroitly prepared in line 3 by the words vultum servatis, which can only be correctly understood in the light of the next verse’s vertitis.25 This is so true that Shackleton Bailey, having failed to grasp this connection, corrects vultum to cultum.26 The friendly expression on the face, then, is like a mask: it is kept on as long as fortuna holds, it is changed when fortuna fails. There can hardly be any doubt that, in this poem’s pessimistic conception, the “real face” is the latter, which appears in misfortune; and it is equally certain, in my opinion, that line 3 and line 4 both subtly anticipate the last verse, where the vera… facies, which reappears at the end of the mimic performance, is opposed to the assimulata, and to the whole theatrical metaphor of the last four lines. This correspondence proves that the theme developed in the first quatrain is not merely a particular instance of the broader one developed in the second, but already foreshadows it. Only the motif of the theatre as the symbol of life makes it possible to gain a correct understanding of the first part of the poem, in which – were it to remain isolated – certain general pronouncements would scarcely fit the concrete situation sketched in the story; but, when seen in the light of the final lines, they appear to be applicable everywhere and in all cases, including Encolpius’ situation, which is only a case of the universal pretense governing human relations. We can now see that the false friends appearing in the first part of the poem are “hypocrites” in the original sense of the word too: that of “actors” ( ).27

    24

    25

    26 27

    meae (incidentally, this passage confirms cecidit in Petronius’ v. 4, needlessly corrected to cedit by Richardus – and cf. Burman 1743, I, 517. For cado referred to fortuna see TLL VI 1, 1182, 57-58). For the idea, also Ov. Pont. 2.3.23-24. For os as a sign of internal moods and their changes cf. e.g. Cic. off. 1.102; also de orat. 3.221 (with the significant opposition os/theatrical mask); Deiot. 5 in tuo ore vultuque adquiesco. Canali 1990, 137 correctly translates “avete lo stesso volto”. According to Slater 1990b (cf. Slater 1990a, 165 n. 15, 192) vultum servatis, amici (v. 3) picks up Hor. ars 5 risum teneatis, amici? These words undoubtedly occupy the same metrical position in the two poems, but the only common one is the vocative amici, whereas the two most significant ones sketch totally different situations in Petronius and Horace (where, besides, they appear in a question). The allusion by Petronius is not impossible, but it is only formal, if it exists at all. Shackleton Bailey 1987, 461. Cf. also Labate 1995b, 172. 145

    Chapter VIII In the light of this universal law, illustrated through the topos of life as theatrics, we should interpret not merely the first part of the poem, but also the lively prose episode that precedes it. In it there are numerous theatrical references (particularly to tragedy), which, besides and beyond parody, mean to expose the fictitiousness and deceitfulness of human behavior.28 2. I have used the expression “like a mask” intentionally, inasmuch as Petronius’ theatrical reference concerns the mime, a theatrical genre in which performers in all probability wore no mask. There is nothing, indeed, in our text which refers specifically to theatrical masks, even though the word persona had become current to denote men’s roles in life and was on the way not to be perceived as a metaphor any more. The theme of life equated with the theater was an old one29 and had become widespread especially in popular philosophy influenced by diatribe.30 The topos could take on different nuances, in accordance with the writer’s intentions.31 A strand that we may conveniently called “Panaetian” – even though it is much older and sometimes distant from Panaetius’ ideology, which infused new and original meaning into the old conception – associated the idea of life as theatrics not with a pretense hiding a different reality, but with a role allocated to us, which it is our duty to play well.32 In many other instances, however, the idea in 28

    29

    30

    31

    32

    146

    At Petr. 80.3 Giton beseeches Encolpius and Ascyltos not to behave like Eteocles and Polynices (Thebanum par), and, like Iocasta, comes between the two; which of course will not prevent him from choosing Ascyltos with no hesitation. This scene’s paratragic character has been emphasized by numerous scholars; e.g. Ciaffi 1955, 51; Labate 1995b, 166 n. 3 (with a reference to Seneca’s Phoenissae; cf. especially Petr. 80.4 ~ Sen. Phoen. 443-444); Conte 1996, 81. Walsh 1996, 183 remarks that the lines on the mime may be linked with the preceding scene, in that this is a “mimic presentation”. We shall soon stress the connection posed by Petronius (and Seneca) between mime and tragedy. Already Plat. Phileb. 50b referred to the “tragedy and comedy of life”; cf. leg. 817b. Similar passages from Maximus of Tyre, Marcus Aurelius, and Clemens of Alexandria are collected by Helm 1906, 52-53. See the bibliography quoted by Conte 1996, 82 n. 11, especially Helm 1906, 44-53. For the concept of persona in Panaetius add Puhle 1987, 158-178; Alesse 1994, 62-74; Alesse 1997, 199. Helm 1906, 45-52 established four different applications of the topos of life as theatrics: 1) the most powerful are those who are affected by the most grievous misfortunes; 2) we must play well whatever role has been allocated to us (to which 2b is added: as on the stage, so in life, we must be able to stop in time); 3) roles are changing and temporary; 4) wealth and power are vain appearances. The most important applications are the last three, and the third and fourth are really one. It is so, e.g., in Aristo Chius SVF I 351, p. 79, 9-11 Arnim (= Diog. Laert. 7.160); Teles 2, pp. 5, 2-6, 1 Hense2; 6, p. 52, 2-5; Cic. fin. 3.24 ; Sen. ep. 77.20 quomodo fabula, sic vita: non quam diu, sed quam bene acta sit, refert; Epict. man. 17; etc. With no philosophical implication Palladas AP 10.72; Hor. sat. 1.1.18; also Epict. diss. 4.2.10. For

    Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) the foreground was that of pretense and make-believe, creating a fictitious reality soon bound to disappear: precisely one of the conceptions characterizing our Petronian poem. This approach is found in many texts variously influenced by diatribe, starting with the Lucretian passage in which Labate rightly recognizes the association of the same themes as in Petronius,33 through Seneca,34 and down to Lucian.35 In these authors, just like in Petronius, scenic fiction is explicitly opposed to reality, which is often characterized with the same adjective as in Petronius – verus – or the Greek equivalent.36 They associate the idea of pretense with the mask or the cothurni worn by the actors, i.e. with the accessories the mimic actors lacked; therefore the opposed determinatives verus or suus, referred to the person of the actor, were used in their proper meaning. In Petronius, who describes a mimic performance, verus becomes metaphorical,37 thus acquiring an even broader and more general sense: the vera… facies now symbolizes the physical and spiritual reality finally taking the upper hand over pretense, the facies assimulata.38 In Petronius’ work the mimic element amounts to an ingredient of primary importance, as scholars unanimously recognize,39 but the real reason why – unlike, for example, Seneca’s passages quoted in the footnotes – Petronius’ poem does not oppose the actors’ real individuality to a theatrical pretense ennobling them through mask and cothurni, but to the roles they play in the mime, must be sought in the different meaning the theme of life as theatrics receives in the Satyrica and in the moralists. Seneca uses the topos to unmask the vanity of

    33

    34 35 36

    37 38 39

    diatribe (cf. Teles’ passages quoted above) see Oltramare 1926, 53-54, 122, 276 (who, however, neglects the other side of the topos: stressing theatrical pretense in opposition to reality). Cf. above, § 1, espec. text to note 13. I am referring to Lucr. 3.55-58 quo magis in dubiis hominem spectare periclis / convenit adversisque in rebus noscere qui sit; / nam verae voces tum demum pectore ab imo / eliciuntur eripitur persona, manet res. Cf. also Sommariva 2003, 292. Sen. ep. 76.31; 80.6; cf. 24.13. Lucian. nekyom. 16; gallus 26. The latter passage is associated with Petronius’ poem by Helm 1906, 52. Lucr. 3.57 verae voces (cf. Lucian. gallus 26 , as opposed to the mask). In Sen. ep. 76.31 ad staturam suam is opposed to the cothurni; at ep. 24.13 facies sua corresponds to Petronius’ vera… facies (in Seneca the expression is opposed to the mask, even though the reference is not to a theatrical performance). Close to Seneca is Epict. diss. 1.29.41 ! " # $ " Such is already the meaning of Lucretius’ verae voces, though a reference to the mask’s loudspeaker effect cannot be ruled out. That this does not refer to masks but to the contrast established between “pretended and real face” has not escaped Panayotakis 1995, 114. Ever since Collignon 1892, 275-281. The copious literature is usefully discussed by Cicu 1992b. Panayotakis 1995 is fundamental. See also Connors 1998, 12-14. 147

    Chapter VIII human power;40 it is natural, therefore, that he should refer to tragedy, which put on the stage heroes and kings, in order to oppose these high characters to the real lowliness of those who played them. This moralizing purpose is totally foreign to Petronius; he can, therefore, replace tragedy with mime, whose characters represented common people, with special emphasis on family ties (pater, filius) and social relations (dives). It is precisely these relations – friendship in the first place – that are exposed as pretense; it is not impossible that the author may have hinted at the literary level on which he means to place his work; we shall presently come back to this. It is true, at any rate, that Seneca too, like Petronius, had no qualms about equating human life with a mime;41 and the idea was widespread, as proved by the question addressed by the dying Augustus to his friends.42 It remains to be explained, however, why Petronius has placed in the mouth of his narrator43 a poem referring to mime to comment on the previously described scene, whose conspicuous theatrical elements, as we have already remarked, clearly point to tragedy. It is easy to reply that for Petronius – or for his characters – mime and tragedy had become one, and both were regarded as pretense. The act or the threat – both a pretense – to strike oneself with a dull weapon are first denoted as mime, then as tragedy;44 and the same is true for the elaborate swindle organized by Eumolpus at Croton,45 which, as if to emphasize the identical fictitious nature of both theatrical genres, is also referred to as scaena.46 If at Croton we move from mime to tragedy, here we witness the opposite evolution: the tragedy

    40

    41 42 43

    44

    45 46

    148

    Sen. ep. 76.31 nemo istorum quos divitiae honoresque in altiore fastigio ponunt magnus est; 80.8 omnium istorum personata felicitas est. For Lucian’s texts close to Seneca’s second one (the actors playing the roles of heroes and kings are really lowly people) see Helm 1906, 45-46. The approach exposing the “theatrical” vanity of wealth and power is associated with the other approach conceiving life as a role to be played well in the topos of life as theatrics as developed by Favorin. de exil. 3: see Barigazzi 1966, 414419. Sen. ep. 80.7 hic humanae vitae mimus. Suet. Aug. 99.1 admissos amicos percontatus est ecquid iis videretur mimum satis commode transegisse. Beck 1973, 56 places the verses at 80.9 among those “which Encolpius offers in his rôle of narrator”; they are a monologue of Encolpius according to Stöcker 1969, 152. According to Slater 1990a, 165-166 they should be regarded as half-way between poetic apostrophe and direct advice to the reader. Petr. 94.15 nec Eumolpus interpellaverat mimicam mortem; 108.11 audacius tamen ille tragoediam implebat, quia sciebat se illam habere novaculam, qua iam sibi cervicem praeciderat. Petr. 117.4 quid ergo… cessamus mimum componere?; 140.6 si non servasset integram simulationem, periclitabatur totam paene tragoediam evertere. Petr. 117.10 ne quid scaenae deesset.

    Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) staged by a Giton playing Iocasta’s dignified role is exposed in the verse as a lowly, ordinary mime.47 The equivalence of mime and tragedy we have discovered in Petronius is another idea shared by Seneca, who once more appears to be influenced by the same cultural atmosphere.48 In Petronius, however, though the idea of the impermanence of theatrical fiction is retained, any moralistic reference to the vanity of wealth and power is obviously missing. Rather, two new applications appear. On the one hand, theatrical role-playing is regarded as intentional deceit aiming at personal profit. As we have remarked, the mime was especially suited to present family ties and social relations as deceitful appearance, kept only as long as it is convenient – and only the verse at 80.9 seen as one, organic poem allows the reader to grasp this new nuance the old theme acquires in Petronius’ hands. On the other hand, our poem opens a further new horizon, which is made clearly perceptible through the association of this verse with another poetic composition found in the Satyrica. I am referring to the poem at 128.6, which with all but identical language and approach exposes the temporary and fictitious nature of dreams, which from this point of view are not unlike theatrics.49 Both themes were widespread in the writings influenced by diatribe; it is no chance that one of Lucian’s works, the Gallus, in which the theme of the deceitfulness of dreams is amply developed, also includes a hint at theatrical pretense containing punctual correspondences with our Petronian poem.50 I will not dwell on this point, which will be more fully developed in a following chapter;51 but I would like to stress the fact that our poem’s closeness to the verse on deceitful dreams at 128.6 confirms that what the eight lines at 80.9 place in the foreground is the deceitfulnes and impermanence of the roles played on the stage of life, to which the idea that this role-playing is prompted by personal convenience is organically added in the text.

    47

    48

    49

    50 51

    As aptly remarked by Conte 1996, 81, the verse marks Encolpius’ bitter “awakening” from his literary dream: in his “mythomania” he had taken seriously Giton’s tragic roleplaying. Sen. ep. 80.7: after mentioning the vitae humanae mimus, Seneca clarifies the idea with two quotations from tragedy, aimed at exposing the vanity of human power. Once more, Seneca is close to Epictetus, who comments in this way on the unsettling affinity of farce and tragedy on the stage of life: diss. 1.29.42 % &$ ' ( " Petr. 128.6.7-8 mox ubi… veraque forma ~ 80.9.7-8 mox ubi… vera… facies (and notice, in the preceding prose, at 128.5, the hint at reality’s vera voluptas, as opposed to the false joys of dreams). The contacts between the two poems were already pointed out by Burman 1743, I, 795; then by Stöcker 1969, 152-153. On the poem at 128.6 see ch. XV. Cf. above, notes 35-36. See ch. XV. 149

    Chapter VIII 3. Illusion, impermanence, deceit, characters from everyday life playing a role in the mime: is it possible that all this may transcend the immediate context and acquire the rank of a pronouncement by the author himself concerning the literary level and character of his work? Our poem’s last lines – the four verses on the mime – are regarded by Slater as worthy of being placed as an epigraph at the beginning of the Satyrica,52 and a similar idea is expressed by Panayotakis and Connors.53 Curiously enough, these three scholars, who see a programmatic statement on the part of the author in these verses, refuse to recognize it in another poem, where, in my opinion,54 it is much more clearly discernible: the verse at 132.15.55 According to Slater the verses on the mime, with their reference to the pagina,56 prove that the Satyrica was written for private reading rather than for recitation,57 while at the same time emphasizing that Encolpius, the narrating voice, is a literary creation.58 Slater is undoubtedly right in defending the traditional reading, pagina; his idea that these lines represent the mime’s characters not merely as contained in a book, but actually as the book’s illustrations, is more questionable.59 For him, at any rate, the lines on the mime – with their realistic, though stereotyped, references to the roles of pater, filius, dives – symbolize the action of the novel itself.60 Panayotakis, though he thinks that the two quatrains should be separated, believes the first one already to contain a warning to the reader concerning the 52 53

    54 55

    56 57 58 59

    60

    150

    Slater 1987, 217; Slater 1990a, 89. Panayotakis 1995, 191; Connors 1998, 13. Reservations in Habermehl 2006, xxvi-xxvii. Plaza 2000, 167-169 admits a double reference, both to Encolpius as a character in a given situation and to the import of the Satyrica as a literary work. She often tends to reconcile two, sometimes mutually exclusive, interpretations, as we shall also see, e.g., in chapters XVII and XVIII; cf. also Mazzilli 2006, 32-33. See ch. XVII. Slater 1990a, 129, cf. 165; Panayotakis 1995, 175-176; Connors 1998, 72 n. 57. The most Connors is ready to concede (on p. 73) is that at 132.15 there may be an indirect reference to mime (as at 80.9) through the hint at Cato of Utica (132.15.1), whose austerity was traditionally opposed to the mime’s lewdness. At line 7. For the proposed corrections see the apparatus and § 4. Slater 1987, 216; Slater 1990a, 13-14. For the likelihood that the Satyrica was rather meant to be recited see Panayotakis 1995, 115 n. 12. Slater 1990a, 89. It has been rejected by Courtney 1991, 24 and Panayotakis 1995, 114 n. 10, who calls attention to the fact that no mask was probably worn in the mime (Slater 1987, 217 thought that ridendas… partes might refer to the picture of an aedicula containig theatrical masks, as those we see in Terence’s manuscripts that have come down to us). The identification of the mimic roles mentioned in the poem with the characters acting in the novel (though only in the specific episode) had been attempted by Brozek 1965, 430, who at any rate was not exempt from serious interpretive mistakes (cf. above, note 11).

    Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) attitudes of the novel’s characters, who play different roles in accordance with their own interest – a warning which the second quatrain on the mime reinforces –, and the reference to laughter (ridendas… partes) to lay emphasis on the importance of the ridiculous in the Satyrica.61 According to Connors the lines on the mime call the reader’s attention to the consciously fictional character of the Satyrica; the lowly and base characters of the mime are not unlike those acting in the novel.62 As remarked above, this is an undoubted fact, helping to explain why Petronius, in agreement with his literary intentions, chose the mime to develop the theme of life as theatrics, not tragedy, like Seneca, whose goal was totally different.63 This, then, is a correct remark, provided too tight correspondences between mimic roles and the characters of the Satyrica are not assumed. The position of these scholars is seriously weakened by their splitting the poem in two, whereas it should be regarded as one composition, as we have tried to prove.64 They are – or should be65 – forced to limit the author’s programmatic statement to the secound quatrain detached from the first. Consistently with Bücheler’s premiss, which the upholders of the splitting of the poem sometimes forget, Slater actually states66 that the four verses on the mime, which are displaced and cannot be connected with any specific context, must necessarily be related to the work as a whole. This is tantamount to conceding that the character of “epigraph” and the function of programmatic statement are bestowed on these two elegiac couplets in total ignorance of the context for which they were written and which they were meant to fit. Nevertheless, if we analyze the poem in its organic unity as well as in its relation to the context – in which tragic an mimic theatrics are juxtaposed and in a way blended –, it may be regarded as legitimate to perceive in these lines, if not a veritable programmatic statement, at least the confirmation and acknowledgment of some of the Satyrica’s most notable traits: the degradation of lofty literary models,67 the fickle fluctuation of the roles played by the several characters, and, in general, the whole “mimic” component of the novel. In this sense we will be able to accept, to a certain extent, Panayotakis’ conclusions68 – though of 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68

    Panayotakis 1995, 113-114. The second idea develops a hint dropped by Walsh 1970, 27. Connors 1998, 13-14. Cf. above, text to note 40. Mazzilli 2006, 34 and n. 12 now agrees on this point. We have just seen that Panayotakis ascribes the programmatic function to both parts (text to note 61). See also above, note 14. Slater 1987, 216 n. 14. In the sense defined by Fedeli 1988, but also as established by Conte 1996 in relation to Encolpius’ “mythomania”: cf. above, note 47. I would not insist too much on his referring the ridendas… partes (v. 7) to the ridiculous component of the Satyrica (Panayotakis 1995, 114), although I am far from regarding it 151

    Chapter VIII course not his splitting of the poem –, when he recognizes the affinity of the two parts, which of course can be explained much better if they both belong to the same poem. 4. V. 1] Modern editions accept Muncker’s correction sic in lieu of the unanimously transmitted si and regard lines 1 and 2 as two independent clauses. Obviously, then, sic must be taken with quatenus.69 It must be admitted, however, that this correlation does not appear natural in itself. Muncker, in fact, as no upholder of the correction seems to remark, did not assume this correlation, nor did he regard the first two lines as two separate and independent clauses; he referred his sic not to quatenus, but to another correction of his: ut in lieu of in in line 2: nomen amicitiae sic, quatenus expedit, haeret / calculus ut tabula mobile ludit opus. But not only is this correlation (sic/quatenus) unnatural: it never appears in any Latin text.70 This being so, it seems necessary to me to attempt to elicit a meaning from the transmitted text, before proposing any correction. Labate has proposed a different, slight correction: he reads nomen amicitia est si, quatenus expedit, haeret,71 based on a comparison with an Ovidian line which had already been (incorrectly) quoted by Heinsius, though the correction he proposed cannot be accepted.72 Labate’s proposal,73 though ingenious, seems hardly acceptable to me, inasmuch as it destroys the syntactic parallel with line 6, where nomen is followed by an epexegetical genitive like in line 1 (nomen amicitiae / nomen divitis) – one of the formal links ensuring the unity of the two parts of the poem.74 In the transmitted text the second construction harks back to the first one, and retrospectively imparts to the first nomen, accompanied by the epexegetical amicitiae, the same ambiguous meaning of “fictitious (and therefore false and

    69 70 71 72

    73 74

    152

    as groundless. The expression might simply refer to the mimic roles. The early interpreters referred it to the exodium (see Burman 1743, I, 518). González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 159 retorted that in the mime all parts were ridiculous. It is nevertheless correct to state (in the words of Walsh 1970, 27) that Petronius “wishes to present the whole of life as a series of risible, unexpected happenings, in which nothing is taken seriously and no man’s motives are what they seem. Every gesture is rehearsed, every attitude a studied pose”. As correctly remarked by Labate 1995b, 173. As also remarked by Harrison 2003, 131. Bücheler 1862, 95 had already proposed this reading (i.e. correcting amicitiae to amicitia) if si were retained. González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 158, though preserving nomen amicitiae, understood like Labate, “nihil aliud praeter nomen in amicitia esse” and exactly quoted Ov. ars 1.740 nomen amicitia est, nomen inane fides. Heinsius quoted Ovid’s verse in the form nomen amicitiae, nomen inane fides and suggested this reading in Petronius: nomen amicitiae, nisi quatenus expedit, haerent. Accepted by Conte 1996, 82-83. Cf. above, note 12.

    Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) vain) appellative” (cf. v. 5 vocatur): a trait of subtle elegance which Labate’s reading would destroy, by forcing this meaning on the first words of the poem and thus removing any suggestive polysemy since the very beginning of our composition. Besides, the expression nomen amicitiae (= amicitia), not only appears in some Ovidian texts which Petronius had obviously in mind;75 it occurs in Petronius himself only a few lines later in the prose, in Encolpius’ invective lament, and amounts to a clear allusion to the beginning of the poem,76 thus ensuring the correctness of the transmitted text at the beginning of line 1. If the transmitted text is retained, line 2 constitutes the apodosis of a conditional sentence (whose protasis is at line 1), and might be interpreted as a metaphor: “if friendship is not lasting, a pawn weaves a fickle web on the checkerboard”, or, if the metaphor is made plain, “it is like a pawn weaving a fickle web on the checkerboard”.77 An alternate interpretation deserves the greatest consideration. It was suggested to me by Professor Jean Soubiran, whom I would like to thank here. If we accept sic in lieu of si, we may understand this adverb as meaning “simply”, separating it from quatenus and thus removing the linguistic problem posed by the correlation: “friendship simply lasts as long as it is convenient”. As Soubiran reminds me, this is an attested meaning of sic (and of $ in Greek).78 At any rate, the first interpretation proposed here was anticipated long ago by González de Salas’ paraphrase of the first two lines:79 “quod si amicitia diutius non durat quam utilitati videlicet inserviat, omnino calculorum ludum ipsam imitari, quo nimirum potissimum id artificium servatur, ut hinc et illinc alio libere moveantur, nec ulli tabulae regioni plus temporis inhaereant, quam illis nempe conducat conveniatque”. 75

    76 77

    78

    79

    E.g. Ov. trist. 1.18.15; Pont. 2.3.19; and twice (vv. 43 and 100) in an elegy (Pont. 3.2) which contains several obvious parallels with our Petronian poem (see above, note 23). For further contacts with Ovid see Sommariva 2003, 287-292; Mazzilli 2006, 29-30. Petr. 81.5 reliquit veteris amicitiae nomen. The same remark now in Sommariva 2003, 290. According to Habermehl 2006, 27 the interpretation proposed here is “ein kühner, kaum aber überzeugender Einfall”, though he must admit that sic/quatenus is an unusual correlation, to say the least. I am quite ready to concede that this is only an attempt at eliciting a meaning from the unanimously transmitted text. I was not able to find any suitable parallel in Latin, but this interpretation does not seem to me to be bolder than expressions common in other languages, in which the consequence, in a conditional sentence, is expressed metaphorically, like, for instance, “if friendship is not lasting, a pawn is playing on the checkerboard” (i.e. “it is only a pawn playing on a checkerboard”), or, changing the metaphor, “if friendship is not lasting, the sun gives no light” (i.e. “it is a sun giving no light”); “if it cannot be trusted, the sun will set”; etc. Among the texts pointed out by Soubiran, two are particularly pertinent: Hor. c. 2.11.14 iacentes sic temere, and a poem attributed to Petronius himself: fr. 54.6 Ernout sic, sic sine fine feriati. González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 158. 153

    Chapter VIII V. 2] Most scholars agree on the fact that Petronius is alluding to a board game (e.g. the latrunculi) in which the pawns move in accordance with what is best to win the game, thus ruling out mere gambling.80 Already Gronovius, however, thought our line to hint at reckoning on the abacus, an idea he regarded as more in line with that of profit, which can undoubtedly be recognized here.81 The vocabulary fits both interpretations: the calculi can be either pawns or pebbles used to reckon, and the tabula either the checkerboard or the abacus.82 Connors lays special emphasis on the ambiguousness of Petronius’ expression.83 Although the calculi change places on the abacus too, mobile seems to fit the checkerboard better, in view of the sudden reversals that may take place in a game. In addition, the idea of playing is closer to that of theatrical pretense (role-playing) of the last lines. For these reasons I believe it to be prevalent in this line, although I do not rule out that Petronius’ expression might be intentionally ambiguous. V. 3 cum fortuna manet] The only real parallel is Hor. c. 3.29.53 laudo manentem (fortunam). In Ov. trist. 3.4.77 maneo is accompanied by the predicative prospera. Passages closer to ours are Lucr. 5.1121 ut fundamento stabili fortuna maneret; Ov. trist. 5.8.15-16 passibus ambiguis fortuna volubilis errat / et manet in nullo certa tenaxque loco. Cum was corrected to dum by Jahn.84 V. 6 divitis] This was a traditional role in mime: Sen. ep. 114.6; cf. Cic. Phil. 2.65.85

    80 81

    82

    83

    84

    85

    154

    Though some believe Petronius’ reference to be precisely to gambling: Reverdito 1995, 292 n. 171; Walsh 1996, 69. See also below, note 83. Gronovius ap. Burman 1743, I, 515 (Burman himself accepts the idea). Later, among others, Courtney 1991, 24; Labate 1995b, 174 n. 26; Sommariva 2003, 288; Habermehl 2006, 28. In the first sense Sen. tranq. 14.7 ludebat latrunculis… vocatus numeravit calculos… lusisse tu Canum illa tabula putas? In the second Iuv. 9.40-41 ponatur calculus, adsint / cum tabula pueri. Connors 1998, 80. Connors believes the notion of reckoning to prevail, but to be close to the idea of a game governed by fortuna, since the abacus was used to reckon people’s financial fortuna. In my opinion this association must be ruled out, since we saw that this game is not governed by fortuna (it is no gambling), but by convenience (which, if the metaphor is made plain, rather adjusts itself to other people’s fortuna). Dum is found in a late manuscript (see apparatus). It is accepted by Ernout 1923, 82, by Müller 1995, 79, and by Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 79. The correction may be justified: cf. Habermehl 2006, 28. Sommariva 2003, 292 believes the divitis mimus played by Eumolpus at Croton to be foreshadowed here.

    Role-Playing (Petr. 80.9) V. 7 pagina] Bücheler 1862, 95 proposed a correction: “pagina cum siparium valere nequeat corruptum. Fortasse machina id est pegma scaenicum”. Later Nisbet proposed pergula86 (already suggested by Strelitz), and Watt plaudite;87 both, however, took it for granted that Bücheler was right in his assumption that a word suggesting the drawing of the curtain over the play was needed. This, however, would amount to a needless duplicate of inclusit. Besides, this is another clear case of begging the question. The reference to a live performance is aprioristically assumed, so that it becomes necessary to proceed to remove pagina, which hints at a written text – or, alternatively, pagina is retained only as a reference to the script used by the actors, or even by the prompter.88 I believe Slater89 is right in maintaining that pagina surely hints at a written text, even though I remain doubtful as far as his inferences concerning Petronius’ text, and even more book illustrations, are concerned. There is no doubt, in my opinion, that pagina is a synecdoche for fabula, in the meaning of the written text of a mimic play. This was already pointed out by González de Salas,90 who refers to a text by Donatus.91 Next to inclusit the word acquires the meaning of “last page” or “last column” closing the text of the play – and only metaphorically its live performance.

    86 87 88 89 90 91

    Nisbet 1962, 231: “one really expects a word meaning ‘curtain’. I have considered pergula”. Watt 1986, 179: “the word for ‘curtain’ is ‘plaudite’”. Watt 1994, 254 changed his mind, and proposed fabula instead. As suggested by Courtney 1991, 24, who transfers to the volumen itself the “closing” which in the text applies to the ridendae partes. Cf. above, § 3 and text to notes 56-59. González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 159. Don. comm. Ter. praef. III 7 (II, p. 8.20-24 Wessner) in dividendis actibus fabulae identidem meminerimus primo paginarum dinumerationem neque Graecos neque Latinos servasse, cum eius distributio eiusmodi rationem habeat, ut ubi attentior spectator esse potuerit, longior actus sit, ubi fastidiosior, brevior atque contractior. Clearly Donatus (though, as he says, not the ancient actors staging the plays) measures the extent of the plays’ acts on the basis of the paginae of the written text. The correspondence with Petronius is perfect. 155

    Chapter IX Tantalus and the Miser (Petr. 82.5)* Non bibit inter aquas poma aut pendentia carpit Tantalus infelix, quem sua vota premunt. Divitis haec magni facies erit, omnia cernens qui timet et sicco concoquit ore famem. L(=lrtp) (=nvp[Paris. Lat. 7647]aeb) Fulg. myth. 2.15 3-4 Bonn UB. S 218 (saec. xi) 1 nec Fulg. nec poma pendentia Fulg. 3 miseri Bücheler: avidi Stöcker omnia late Fulg., Bonn UB. S 218: omnia circum Bücheler: omnia acervans Jacobs, Hammarström, Ernout, Cesareo-Terzaghi: omnia cenans Leo 4 tenet vn, Fulg., Bonn UB. S 218, Bücheler

    1. This poem is the only text allowing a comparison between Petronius’ direct tradition (L) and a quotation by Fulgentius (myth. 2.15), and vice versa. It is also found in the Florilegia ( ), which transmitted it to Vincent of Beauvais and Iacobus Magnus.1 As these sources differ notably from one another, the first problem to be tackled concerns the establishment of a reliable text. Leaving minor differences aside, the thorniest problems concentrate in the last two lines, where L gives omnia cernens qui timet, two Florilegia manuscripts2 offer omnia cernens qui tenet,3 and in Fulgentius we read omnia late qui tenet, a reading also * 1 2 3

    A version of this chapter has appeared as part of Cinque poesie petroniane (Sat. 82.5, 83.10, 108.14, 126.18, 132.15), “Prometheus” 24, 1998, 217-242 (pp. 217-221). Cf. Ullman 1930, 19-20; lastly, Aragosti 1995, 334-335 n. 240. I.e. v (Hamb. Cod. 53 c in scrin., published by Brandis-Ehlers 1974) and n (Parisinus lat. 17903, olim Nostradamensis 188) From the apparatus of Hamacher 1975, 127, whose sigla I have adopted, we should gather that the reading of n is timet, like in L, but a great number of scholars agree in testifying that the reading of n is tenet (Bücheler 1862, 97; Leo 1903, 307; Ernout 1923,

    Chapter IX found in an XI century manuscript preserved in the university library at Bonn, in which the last two lines of our poem have been transcribed.4 In order to be able to choose we must carefully scrutinize the subject of this poem. The theme it develops is well known; it probably originated in circles influenced by the belief in reincarnation, but it was later appropriated by diatribe, which limited its import to ethics only, through an allegorical interpretation of mythological afterlife seen as a symbol of characters and circumstances of earthly life.5 Tantalus in particular was perhaps the mythological character best suited for interpretations of this type.6 Our poem describes Tantalus’ classic punishment: he suffers from hunger and thirst, although he stands in the middle of a river and tree branches laden with fruit hang over his head. Allegorical interpreters regarded him as the symbol of the miser starving in the midst of wealth and plenty.7 Petronius’ text (L) adds a lively trait: the theme of fear (timet), which prevents the wealthy miser from touching the goods he is looking at (omnia cernens). What is the miser afraid of? Horace’s first satire helps answer the question. Paradoxically, the hungry but wealthy miser dreads poverty and starvation, if he begins to dent his capital;8 besides, he lives in constant fear of being robbed.9 This is how Horace has enriched the traditional figure of the miser as symbolized by Tantalus, who is referred to shortly before in the same satire.10 This new trait added by Horace probably implies a reference to the allegorical interpretations of Tantalus’ other traditional punishment: standing under a boulder threatening to fall down and crush him. These interpretations always refer to fears of people in real life, though the reasons for fear are different in the several interpreters.11 After Horace the theme of fear is connected with the hungry and

    4 5 6

    7 8 9 10 11

    158

    84; Ullman 1930, 13; Ehlers ap. Brandis-Ehlers 1974, 101). Thanks to the courtesy of my friend and colleague Alain Gigandet, who checked the manuscript, I am able to confirm that the reading of n is tenet. UB. S 218, fol. 60b (see Reiche 1976, 150). I refer to Setaioli 1995, 173-205 (the whole chapter VII, bearing the title “La vita terrena e la simbologia infernale”) for a detailed treatment and for bibliography. See Setaioli 1995, 186-194; and, for an accurate, if incomplete, survey of the allegorical interpretations concerning Tantalus, Buffière 1956, 486-489. Cf. also Habermehl 2006, 53-54. This symbolism often appears in writings influenced by diatribe: Teles pp. 34, 9-35, 5 Hense2; Phaedr. append. 5.7; Lucian. Tim. 18; Apul. de deo Socr. 22.171-172. Hor. sat. 1.98-99 ne se penuria victus opprimeret metuebat. Hor. sat. 1.1.76-78 an vigilare metu exanimem, noctesque diesque / formidare malos fures, incendia, servos, / ne te compilent fugientes, hoc iuvat? Hor. sat. 1.1.68. Xenoph. oecon. 21.12 ; Lucr. 3.980-983 timeat… formidine… metus… timent; Cic. Tusc. 4.35 metuit… terror; fin. 1.60 angore… metu; Dio Chrys. 6.55 ; Plut. de superst. 11, 170F ; Macr. in somn. Scip. 1.10.15 numquam sine timore victuri.

    Tantalus and the Miser (Petr. 82.5) thirsty Tantalus by Maximus of Tyre,12 though he regards him not as a symbol for the miser, but for those who can never have their fill of pleasures, obviously fusing Tantalus’ symbolism with the allegorical interpretation of the Danaids and their pierced buckets. Clearly, Petronius has accepted Horace’s innovation,13 but the readings given by part of the tradition (vn) and Fulgentius testify that some readers were not able to grasp this subtle nuance. They probably regarded the theme of fear as hardly connected with that of stinginess; this is the likely reason why a flat tenet was substituted for timet, since the former reading appeared more in line with the miser’s great wealth and his refraining from using it. Cernens is preserved in vn, although it hardly fits tenet. A text made more consistent by the elimination of cernens is offered by Fulgentius: omnia late qui tenet, like in the Bonn manuscript we have mentioned above. In this way a consistent, though mechanical, opposition between the miser’s great wealth and his refusal to use it is reestablished, but at the price of sacrificing the subtle psychological nuance first introduced by Horace. This reconstruction of the textual vicissitude in the interpretation and transmission of our poem is exactly paralleled in modern times by Bücheler’s behavior. In his 1862 edition he adopted the reading of n (and of v, which he did not know): omnia cernens qui tenet. He soon realized, however, that cernens hardly fitted the context, and in his later editions he adopted circum, which in that of 1862 was only suggested in the apparatus. This reading corresponds to Fulgentius’ late as far as the meaning is concerned, though it is paleographically closer to cernens. It must of course be conceded that, like most simplifications, the textual solution offered by Fulgentius and the Bonn manuscript is not devoid of a seeming logicality: Burman,14 for example, believed Fulgentius’ text to be the only one from which a meaning could be elicited. In my opinion, by contrast, it can hardly be doubted that Petronius has introduced the theme of fear in this poem as a Horatian legacy, though I do not wish to press this idea any farther. Leo proposed the correction of cernens to cenans,15 a reading accepted by Müller in his 1995 edition16 (his previous ones 12 13

    14 15 16

    Max. Tyr. 33.4. Habermehl 2006, 55 reports my interpretation as referring simply to the version of Tantalus’ punishment as being threatened by a boulder about to fall, rather than to Horace’s literary elaboration (referring to Tantalus’ “classic” punishment), which in my opinion is pivotal for a correct understanding of the Petronian poem. He goes on to offer two reasons for the miser’s fear: thieves and poverty, i.e. the two “Horatian” explanations I have mentioned above; a third reason is connected with Leo’s reading (cenans), on which see below. According to Di Leo 2001, 146-147 Petronius drew upon Horace for the idea, but is close to Ov. am. 2.2.43-44 as far as form is concerned. Burman 1743, I, 527-528. Leo 1903, 307 (“prae timore veneni nec esse nec bibere audet”). Müller 1995, 81. This reading is also accepted by Habermehl 2006, 55-56. 159

    Chapter IX preserved cernens). The theme of the rich man fearing to be poisoned because of his wealth is undoubtedly common, especially in texts of the type we have referred to.17 It is also true that Petronius mentions a dives magnus in general, not a miser in particular. Nevertheless, in all related texts the hungry and thirsty Tantalus is always the symbol of the miser and is never connected with the fear of being poisoned. In view of this, the reading cenans must be rejected, inasmuch as it forcibly and forcedly introduces a type of fear foreign to the theme, and a non-Horatian element into the finely nuanced and decidedly Horatian frame of Petronius’ poem. 2. After establishing a text which appears to be satisfactory, the problem of the poem’s location in Petronius’ work remains to be tackled. Though Slater18 confidently states that these elegiac couplets are the poem’s most loosely connected with the context, it is clear that to speak of a contest is hardly possible.19 L places the poem at 82.5, where its connection with the neighboring excerpts is loose, or actually missing; besides, it is followed in L by some scraps of text that are surely misplaced (seven sententiae taken from the Cena Trimalchionis). In it appears between 20.3 and 34.10.20 Burman21 was already convinced that our epigram was not at the right place. Others22 strive to connect it with Encolpius’ situation at this point of the story, but the text is too fragmentary to provide any certainty. We can only remark that this poem is related to a theme apparently beloved by Petronius, if we may trust two fragments that, like these verses, have retained 17

    18 19 20

    21

    22

    160

    It falls under the diatribic theme 20b in the classification of Oltramare 1926, 47, 231, 267. Numerous texts may be quoted: e.g. Sen. Thyest. 453; ira 3.33.1; ep. 119.6; Iuv. 10.25-27; PBon 4, v. 54: see Setaioli 1970, 208 and n. 2. Slater 1990a, 165. So, correctly, Sochatoff 1969-1970, 343; Barnes 1971, 279; Reverdito 1995, 293 n. 176; Walsh 1996, 183. Cf. Bücheler 1862, xxviii; Ernout 1923, xxx n. 1; 84; Stubbe 1933, 172; Ullman 1930, 12-13; Brandis-Ehlers 1974, 90; 101; Hamacher 1975, 126-127; Aragosti 1995, 334-335 n. 240. An in-depth discussion of the problem of this poem’s location is provided by Di Simone 1993, 87-94, with bibliography. Lastly, Habermehl 2006, 52-53. Burman 1743, I, 527. Ciaffi 1955, 51-52 connects our poem with 20.5-7. A brilliant attempt at placing this poem in the context of the Circe episode and at connecting it with the theme of Encolpius’ impotence has been made by Di Simone 1993, 94-102, who points out the frequent association of the figure of Tantalus with the theme of impotence (or of sexual frustration). In Ov. am. 3.7.49-52 we witness a veritable fusion of the two symbolisms (stinginess and sexual impotence), which possibly suggests that something similar might have taken place in Petronius. In the text of the poem as we have it, however, there is nothing to suggest that Tantalus might symbolize anything but the miser; besides, the theme of fear seems more appropriate to the latter than to the impotent lover. Schissel 1913, 89; 110; Sullivan 1968, 60.

    Tantalus and the Miser (Petr. 82.5) the attention of Fulgentius.23 Though the reliability of Fulgentius’ quotations is often questionable, he is reputed to be most credible precisely as far as those from Petronius are concerned.24 Obviously, Petronius inherited the relish for this type of allegories from diatribe. In connection with our poem, Stöcker25 believes that, though Petronius is normally no moralist, in this case he employs the Horatian motif with the same ethic intent as Horace does. 3. V. 2 quem sua vota premunt] These words must be understood as “distressed by his own wishes”26 and referred to the mythological character, literally condemned, as he is, to “Tantalus’ torture” by the unattainability of food and drink, rather than to the miser he symbolizes.27 In fact, symbolism does not appear before line 3. V. 4 sicco… ore] These words refer to a mouth dried up by long fasting.28 They are intentionally opposed to concoquit. Tantalus is literally “drymouthed”,29 because he has had nothing to eat.30 The reference to “digestion” (concoquit) obviously aims to surprise the reader, and is in turn cleverly bal23

    24

    25 26 27

    28 29 30

    I am referring to Petr. fr. 8 and 25 Müller (= Fulg. Virgil. cont. p. 99, 2 Helm and myth. 2.6 respectively): cf. Setaioli 1995, 188 n. 1084, and see Courtney 1991, 47-48. The allegorical interpretation of Tityos is certain in fr. 25; and possibly fr. 8 contains an allegory of Cerberus as the symbol of such a worldly figure as a lawyer, though most scholars interpret the words Cerberus forensis erat causidicus as a reference to a real lawyer known as “the Cerberus of courts” (“the barrister was a Cerberus of courts”, as translated by Heseltine 1913). This is not the way the quotation is presented by Fulgentius: it is Cerberus who is taken as the symbol of judiciary litigation, not vice versa; besides it is hardly natural to take Cerberus as a predicate in a construction like this. Bücheler 1862, 209 perceived this problem, and proposed to regard causidicus as a gloss. Correctly Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 154: “Cerbero era un avvocato penalista”. If the reference was to a real lawyer (named Euskios?), Petronius may have said something like this: “(no wonder he is so aggressive; after all) Cerberus was a lawyer pleading in the forum”. See Zink 1867, 66-67 (though Zink fails to remark that Fulgentius’ quotation of our poem on Tantalus is supported by Petronius’ direct tradition); Ciaffi 1963; Pizzani 1968, 11-12; Courtney 1991, 5. Stöcker 1969, 151. Cf. e.g. Walsh 1996, 90: “by longing sore oppressed”. As done by Burman 1743, I, 528, and perhaps also by Ernout 1923, 84: “malgré le désir qui le presse”. According to Habermehl 2006, 54 this expression fits amorous passion (i.e. one of the allegorical interpretations of Tantalus’ punishment) better than desire for food and drink. So Ernout 1923, 84: “dans sa bouche desséchée”; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 71: “con bocca arida”. So Walsh 1996, 70; also Canali 1990, 139; Aragosti 1995, 335; Scarsi 1996, 119; and already Burman 1743, I, 529. Cf. Verg. Aen. 9.64; Stat. Theb. 10.48. 161

    Chapter IX anced by an unexpected oxymoron: Tantalus cannot reach the food “tantalizing” him. For all eternity he will have nothing to “digest” except his hunger.31

    31

    162

    The references of Stubbe 1933, 172 to Catull. 68.139 and Petr. 105.5 miss the point: in those passages concoquere refers to endurance.

    Chapter X Life Choices (Petr. 83.10)* Qui pelago credit, magno se faenore tollit; qui pugnas et castra petit, praecingitur auro; vilis adulator picto iacet ebrius ostro, et qui sollicitat nuptas, ad praemia peccat: sola pruinosis horret facundia pannis atque inopi lingua desertas invocat artes. L(=lrtp)O(=RP) Voss.(=Leidensis Vossianus Latinus F 111) 5 heret Voss. prudentia pannis Voss. 6 disertas Voss.

    5

    3 Ioh. Sarisb. Pol. 3.13

    These lines are the first specimen of Eumolpus’ poetry, with which he presents himself to Encolpius as a poet.1 As it has been rightly remarked,2 this poem serves as a proem to Eumolpus’ poetic corpus, which also includes the Troiae halosis and the Bellum civile, plus two more short poems. The closest model is of course Horace’s first ode;3 like this, our poem is cast in the form of a Priamel4 culminating in the opposition of literary (and surely poetic) activity to the previously listed occupations. * 1

    2 3 4

    A version of this chapter has appeared as part of Cinque poesie petroniane (82.5, 83.10, 108.14, 126.18, 132.15), “Prometheus 24, 1998, 217-242 (pp. 221-226). It is only a “sproloquio poetico” according to Paratore 1933, II, 287. Yeh 2007, 394399, who also offers a metric and phonic analysis of the poem, believes it to anticipate Eumolpus’ greatest poetic effort: the Bellum civile. See especially Loporcaro 1984; also Connors 1998, 63; Habermehl 2006, 84. So, correctly, Loporcaro 1984. Gagliardi 1981, 362 n. 9 prefers to associate our poem with Horace’s first satire. As also remarked by Courtney 1991, 25 and Labate 1995a, 158-159. Race 1982, 148149 quotes this poem as one of the two poetic Priamels that according to him are found

    Chapter X This is not just any Priamel: we are faced with a particular kind, typical of proems and protreptics, which mentions a series of different life callings (mostly mirroring the traditionally classified by Greek tradition) before the one chosen by the author, which deliberately comes last.5 Poetry as the life calling chosen by Horace and crowning the Priamel in his first ode confirms that this is Petronius’ main model here, even though he knew and occasionally employed other related texts too.6 Like Horace, Eumolpus has chosen poetry as the calling of his life, and this poem may be regarded as the adaptation of the Horatian theme to his own times.7 The pattern of the several life callings as sketched by Eumolpus is very close to Horace’s: the is exemplified by the same figure as in the Horatian ode: the merchant sailing the seas; the , by contrast, is represented by a character closer to the author’s contemporary experience: under the empire political influence could be attained only by flattering the , unlike Horace’s less coarse characterizations, is emperor.8 The blunty illustrated by the figure of the adulterer. Finally, like in Horace, the crowning the Priamel is represented by a similar adaptation: a life devoted to facundia, which undoubtedly stands for literature, including poetry, which was Horace’s life choice. A further Horatian trait completes the poem: Like in Horace’s first ode, a fifth calling is added to the Greek pattern of the four : a soldier’s life, which appears to be a Roman contribution.9 Eumolpus’ Priamel, however, differs from Horace’s in a capital point: in Horace the choice of the various callings is based upon the joy one can draw from a certain lifestyle, whereas in Eumolpus’ poem the only motive is quite evidently profit: though different, all lifestyles are subsumed under an allencompassing . This is quite clear not merely in the case of the merchant, who magno se faenore tollit, but in all others. The soldier praecingitur auro: the reference may be to weapons, clothing, crowns, or belts made

    5 6 7

    8 9

    164

    in Petronius, the other being 137.9 (for which see ch. XXII). But see ch. XVIII, on 139.2. See Setaioli 1973, with the bibliography quoted and discussed. Cf. e.g Petr. fr. 43.11 Müller condit avarus opes defossumque invenit aurum ~ Verg. georg. 2.507 condit opes alius defossoque incubat auro. This aspect has apparently escaped Sommariva 1984a, 30-31, who regards the poem as devoid of any originality and only aiming to impress the naïve Encolpius. The poem’s implications are only partially illustrated by Slater 1990a, 168-169. Suffice it to quote Iuv. 4.116 caecus adulator dirusque, which clearly shows that often the adulator was one and the same with the deadly delator. In related texts the soldier appears in Virgil, Horace, Tibullus, Propertius, Ovid, Columella, and here in Petronius. Among the Greeks this life calling is found only in comparatively late writers: Dio Chrysostom, Maximus of Tyre, Diogenes of Oenoanda, Clemens of Alexandria, Libanius. For all these see Setaioli 1973, 41-42 n. 1. I refer to this essay also for the relation of the Horatian figures to the pattern of the

    Life Choices (Petr. 83.10) of, or ornamented with, gold;10 at any rate, what is emphasized here is that military life can be conducive to wealth.11 The flatterer can feast to the point of getting drunk and sleep in a bed strewn with purple: the stress is laid on the contrast between the cheapness of his person – vilis – and the precious chattels he obtains through flattery.12 The adulterer undoubtedly attains the pleasure which is the goal of the , but his real object seems to be receiving precious gifts from his mistresses (ad praemia).13 In Petronius, who faithfully mirrors his times in this, the omnipotence of money is an all-pervading theme.14 Poetry, Eumolpus’ life choice, is the only activity providing no material advantages – which explains his shabby garb.15 The lament on the poets’ – and the intellectuals’ in general – insecure situation is common in the first century of the Christian era, a time in which the support of patrons like Maecenas is only a wistful regret not mereley for Martial, who dwells on the subject more than anyone else, but for all writers.16 This amounts to a further confirmation that Eumolpus’ poem does hark back to Horace’s first ode. In Juvenal’s seventh satire the explicit reference to Horace’s totally different situation17 is followed by an expression very close to Eumolpus’;18 and in Nero’s time an echo of Horace’s first ode is employed to address the ideal patron in the Laus Pisonis, immediately after the express mention of Horace.19 Should we then regard Eumolpus’ poem as a total reversal of Horace’s ode? As we shall see, this is not the case. At any rate, the proemial function allotted to this verse makes these lines and their immediate context crucial for a correct ap-

    10 11 12

    13 14 15 16

    17 18 19

    Possibly the custom to carry gold or precious items in one’s belt is also referred to: cf. Reverdito 1995, 294 n. 182; Habermehl 2006, 86. For the theme cf. e.g. Colum. 1 praef. 7-8. The reference is not to the purple cushions of the flatterer’s patron, as believed by Habermehl 2006, 86. Cf. Verg. 2.506 Sarrano dormiat ostro (in a related text already hinted at: above, note 9). Another Vergilian echo (Verg. georg. 3.17 Tyrio conspectus in ostro) nicely fits the reference to the Cf. a Petronian fragment alredy quoted (above, note 6): Petr. fr. 43.14 Müller dat adultera munus; Iuv. 10.319. More texts in Habermehl 2006, 87. Cf. e.g. Stöcker 1969, 145-151, who includes our poem in his treatment. See also ch. XXII. Petr. 83.9. Cf. also Sen. nat. 4 praef. 14 gratuita carmina. On literary patronage at this time see White 1975; White 1978; White 1982; Williams 1982; Saller 1982; Hardie 1983, 1-72; Citroni 1992; for Nero’s age in particular Morford 1985. Iuv. 7.62 satur est cum dicit Horatius ‘Euhoe’. Iuv. 7.145 rara in tenui facundia panno (cf. v. 5 of our poem: pruinosis horret facundia pannis). More texts in Habermehl 2006, 87. Laus Pis. 243-244 o decus… quo praeside ~ Hor. c. 1.1.2 o et praesidium et dulce decus meum. 165

    Chapter X praisal of Eumolpus as a character of the Satyrica.20 In general such appraisals center on his compulsive urge to compose poetry on the one hand, and on his hypocrisy – in the sense that his actions contradict the noble principles he flaunts – on the other. In reality, however, these two ideas are hard to reconcile, as made plain even by one of Eumolpus’ most brilliantly sketched profiles. I am referring to Giancarlo Mazzoli’s engaging portrayal,21 whose conclusion, however, is that Eumolpus regards poetry as a means to other ends, rather than an end in and to itself. In particular, the poem at 83.10 should be interpreted, according to him, as a mere device to ingratiate himself with Encolpius,22 though, on the other hand, Mazzoli does not fail to emphasize Eumolpus’ “demiurgic creativity” and the pivotal role of the artistic and literary element in his lifestyle. In reality, we may rest assured that Eumolpus is one of those poets staunchly determined never to betray their calling, no matter how unrewarding from the economic and material point of view, whom Juvenal describes in his already mentioned seventh satire.23 Were he a mere hypocrite, surely he would long since have relinquished such an unprofitable activity. Quite the opposite: poetry is his one unrenounceable ideal, his only faith and religion. During the shipwreck, in the face of impending death, his only thought is to write verse. This detail is often misunderstood and regarded as a negative characterization equating Eumolpus with the vesanus poeta described by Horace at the end of his Ars poetica.24 But Eumolpus is far from courting a famosa mors, like Empedocles does in the Horatian text; rather, in the face of death, while all on board clumsily attempt to save their lives, he turns to poetry as to the only haven and salvation he recognizes. If anything, he wishes to die in his real capacity – as a poet – just like Encolpius and Giton prepare to die as lovers. Surely Eumolpus is no ascetic, nor is he a Stoic or a Cynic proud of his own poverty; surely he is anything but insensible to the lure of wealth and pleasure; and, lacking a Maecenas, he resorts to swindling and deception to attain them. He does not consider getting them by a lawful activity, which, in his view, would amount to a betrayal of his calling in favor of one which is not his own – it does not really matter which one, since all aim at profit, as made clear in this poem. If he is a hypocrite, he is not primarily so, but – in his view at least – is forced to become one by circumstances. Actually he is staunchly faithful to his calling, almost to the point of heroism, in spite of sneers and stone-blows. He is really a victim of the demise of patronage in the style of Maecenas, who was 20 21 22 23 24

    166

    An excellent survey of the various interpretations is provided by Soverini 1985, 17411753. Mazzoli 1996. Barnes 1971, 225-226 also regards our poem as the outburst of a frustrated poetaster. Iuv. 7.48-52. Hor. ars 455-469. See the correct evaluation of La Penna 1980, 80; La Penna 1990, 12.

    Life Choices (Petr. 83.10) ready to offer the poets wealth25 and pleasure. Maecenas gave Virgil the handsome Alexis,26 but Eumolpus can only rely on cunning and deception to win the favors of the youth of Pergamum or of the girl of Croton. Besides, Eumolpus’ very swindle is not merely a “work of art” in itself, but – literally – poetry pursued in a different way or with different means.27 Encolpius honestly believes the “mime” staged at Croton to be a poetic jest (117.2); and several scholars have emphasized the fact that at Croton Eumolpus is actually staging a mime.28 But attention must be called to the fact that mime is a form of poetry, and that Eumolpus is not merely the main actor and stage director, but, most of all, the author. Possibly this is why he abstains from composing verse at Croton: he is engaged in his supreme creation, culminating in his “literary masterpiece”: his own testament. There is no contradiction at all between Eumolpus the poet and Eumolpus the swindler: both are the two sides of the same coin. This, to be sure, does not at all mean that there are no inconsistencies or ambiguities in Eumolpus.29 For him, as for all utopians forced to come to terms with reality, reconciling the purity of the ideal with survival in a world hardly made for poets amounts to a sort of impossible quadrature of the circle. He is fully aware of the fact that only through cunning and deceit will he be able to attain the material advantages his lowly rank does not afford. But his practical knavery operates at a lower, contingent level and, far from affecting the sincerity of his calling, results, in the final anlysis from an uncompromising devotion to it, which prevents him from “lowering himself” from his poetic world to the level of practical reality to pursue “honestly” other, more profitable activities. There is more: we can say that this is the poet’s only defense against a world much more hypocritical and treacherous than the devices he may resort to.30 Eumolpus’ adaptability and sham ultimately amount to a defense that in his eyes has been made necessary by contemporary society.31

    25 26 27 28 29

    30 31

    Cf. Mart. 8.55[56].11 accipe divitias et vatum maximus esto. Mart. 5.16.12; 8.55[56].12. Ink is used at 102.3; an “epigram” at 103.4; and there are numerous references to the theater: 106.1; 117.4; 117.9; 140.6. An exhastive treatment in Cicu 1992b, 124-141. I do not at all mean to convey the idea that Eumolpus is endowed with genuine poetic talent or that he is only a victim of unfavorable circumstances, as Habermehl 2006, 85 would have me say. Stating that Eumolpus is staunchly faithful to his calling means neither that his verse is of high poetic worth nor that he is not a knave. Cf. La Penna 1980, 78-79. Sommariva 1984a, 28 believes Encolpius’ attitude to be consistent, but only with his own scheme aiming to adapt to people and circumstances in order to to exploit their vices and weaknesses. This is undoubtedly true, but must be judged in the frame of the general picture we have tried to sketch. 167

    Chapter X The real world pitilessly marginalizes anyone not sharing its materialistic credo.32 In the prose accompanying our poem Eumolpus does not proclaim to be superior to the lure of wealth;33 but, while on the basis of the commonly accepted values and rules all men seek nothing but money,34 he is not willing to concede that this is the best there is – but one might say all there is – in the world.35 In modern terms, Eumolpus has embraced an “alternative” lifestyle which incurs the hatred – and, we may think, the diffidence too – ot the rich.36 This is to say that he is hated and despised by everyone, since, in a world that has unreservedly embraced the ideology of money and wealth, he is the only one that in a way resists assimilation. He surely does not despise money, but will never give up poetry for its sake. So, if only in this respect, he is an exception. But exceptions to this universal merging of social values can only be marginalized figures like our poet. All men, except the poet, no matter what their calling, have one aim: making money. But for Eumolpus the rectum iter vitae consists, literally, in refusing to deviate from his own calling for profit’s sake, and the vices to be avoided coincide with any degrading compromise that must be accepted for that reason. He is fully aware of his own “diversity”, which makes him the butt of spite and aversion,37 but is willing to endure sneers and stone-blows, provided his calling is not betrayed. As a final remark, I would like to remind that – as already clearly stated – these comments refer to the literary character, undoubtedly one of Petronius’ most successful. They have no bearing as far as the objective worth and the fictional function of Eumolpus’ poetry and literary theories, as they are presented in the novel, are concerned. We are not entitled to assume Eumolpus’ representation (or self-representation) to be in any way binding for the author’s own attitudes and opinions.38

    32 33 34 35 36 37 38

    168

    Cf. also Labate 1995a, 159. We should not forget that Eumolpus is aware of the fact that the wealthy are wary of those who appear to possess such a superiority: Petr. 84.3. Petr. 84.1 solas extruere divitias curant. Petr. 84.2 nihil volunt inter homines melius credi quam quod ipsi tenent. Petr. 83.7 quos odisse divites solent. Petr. 84.1 si quis vitiorum omnium inimicus rectum iter vitae coepit insistere, primum propter morum differentiam odium habet; quis enim potest probare diversa? Beck 1979, 247 is surely right in this.

    Chapter XI Appeal to Peace (Petr. 108.14)* 108.13 Data ergo acceptaque ex more patrio fide protendit ramum oleae a tutela navigii raptum, atque in colloquium venire ausa 14

    ‘quis furor’ exclamat ‘pacem convertit in arma? Quid nostrae meruere manus? Non Troius heros hac in classe vehit decepti pignus Atridae, nec Medea furens fraterno sanguine pugnat. Sed contemptus amor vires habet. Ei mihi, fata hos inter fluctus quis raptis evocat armis? Cui non est mors una satis? Ne vincite pontum gurgitibusque feris alios immittite fluctus’.

    108.14 L(=lrtp)O(=RP) 1 exclamat: o cives Isid. 2 heros O: hostis L: hospes Wehle 5 ei Bücheler: et 7 ne rtmgpP: nec ltR 8 immittite L: imponite O

    5

    1 Isid. etym. 2.21.19

    1. This poem, uttered by Tryphaena, is unique in all that has been preserved of the Satyrica. Though several others are presented as uttered by a character at some point of the story, it is the only one with a verbum dicendi inserted in the verse, syntactically connecting it with the preceding narration in prose.1 This unmistakably marks it as the narrator’s (the author’s) elaboration; in this case he does not request the reader to take it as a simple mimetic reproduction of a po* 1

    A version of this chapter has appeared as part of Cinque poesie petroniane (Sat. 82.5, 83.10, 108.14, 126.18, 132.5), “Prometheus” 24, 1998, 217-242 (pp. 226-232). Cf. also, now, Jensson 2004, 34-37; Habermehl 2006, 454. Vannini 2010, 205 points out possible analogies in Petronius’ metrical fragments.

    Chapter XI etical speech supposedly uttered by a character in the fictional situation. Ussani2 suggested a rather simplistic way out, by supposing that Triphaena’s speech had been originally composed in prose by Petronius and only later trasferred into verse, with the parenthetic exclamat substituted for inquit or a similar expression. As we shall see, this amounts to closing one’s eyes to Petronius’ refined literary play. If we may judge from what has come down to us, this way of inserting the metrical intermezzos was anything but common in Petronius, and there are reasons to surmise that ancient readers already perceived this unusualness. Our poem was known and appreciated, as proved by Sidonius Apollinaris’ imitation;3 but obviously the insertion of the verbum dicendi into the speech in verse, though making the passage from prose to meter smoother and more natural, also destroys the possibility of the poem’s painless separation from the prose context, as has been the case with Petronius’ poetic fragments collected in the Anthologia Latina or quoted by Fulgentius. Besides, the content of our poem is in itself too closely connected with the narrated situation to make such a separation easy. Nevertheless, Sidonius Apollinaris is not the only witness of the fact that this poem must have been well-known. Its first line is quoted anonymously by Isidore of Seville4 together with several texts that are also anomymously quoted, but stem from the works of Latin literature’s most outstanding writers.5 Clearly, Isidore regards all these texts as specimens extracted from the classics. He reports the opening verse of our Petronian poem as an instance of sententia cum exclamatione, but, significantly enough, the verbum dicendi disappears in his quotation and is replaced by a solemn vocative: quis furor, o cives, pacem convertit in arma? Some believe that Isidore removed exclamat in order to avoid repetition, after his introductory words cum exclamatione proferuntur;6 others do not rule out that he may be quoting Petronius’ correct text;7 but we may be 2 3

    4 5 6 7

    170

    Ussani 1905, 45. Sidon. Apoll. carm. 5.134-136 Absyrtum sparsura patri facturaque caesi / germani plus morte nefas, dum funere pugnat / et fratrem sibi tela facit. This is a clear development of Petronius’ nec Medea furens fraterno sanguine pugnat (v. 4). Isid. orig. 2.21.19. Terence, Lucilius, Cicero, Virgil, Ovid, Jerome: cf. Isid. orig. 2.21.12-25. Wehle 1861, 44. Collignon 1892, 123 n. 1; in this case Petronius would have imitated Lucan. 1.8 quis furor, o cives, quae tanta licentia ferri. Ussani 1905, 7 and Walsh 1970, 45 admit that Lucan may be Petronius’ model, but only as far as the opening words, quis furor. Rimell 2002, 82 acknowledges Lucan’s echo too (she is hardly convincing when she associates the poem’s reference to Absyrtus cut to pieces by Medea in line 4 with Giton’s threatened self-mutilation at 108.10-11: p. 166). According to Yeh 2007, 91 our poem is “un pont entre les deux poèmes d’Eumolpe”, i.e. the Troiae halosis and the Bellum civile. A metrical analysis in Yeh 2007, 309-404. According to Fröhlke 1977, 87 the poem is just

    Appeal to Peace (Petr. 108.14) reasonably certain that what we have here is a mnemonic interference on the part of Isidore.8 At any rate, his adaptation proves that the poem was perceived as at variance with Petronius’ usual patterns and in need of “normalization”.9 Slater10 considers the possibility of correcting the text, but, strangely enough, does not mention Isidore’s quotation. He has the merit of having realized more clearly than most scholars that the insertion of exclamat into Tryphaena’s metrical speech is unparalleled in what we know of Petronius’ work, although it is hardly possible to follow him in his conclusions. Slater is surely right when he remarks that exclamat makes it impossible to take the poem as the mimetic reproduction of a speech in verse supposedly uttered by Tryphaena in the situation being described. He goes on to say that her speech cannot be taken as an elaboration by the author or narrator either, since it is unparalleled in Petronius (but how much of the Satyrica has been lost?); finally, he concludes11 by suggesting that exclamat should be detached from Encolpius’ narration and that it discloses a frame existing in and by itself, independent of a hand drawing it. Quite the opposite: it must be strongly emphasized that exclamat is an integral part of Encolpius’ narration, as proved, already at the syntactical level, by the fact that without it the prose sentence which precedes (atque in colloquium venire ausa) would hang in the air. In addition, we must reject the bizarre idea that exclamat should be regarded as uttered by Tryphaena, while pointing to herself with theatrical gesticulation, not because this would be too subtle for a character like Tryphaena,12 but, again, simply because in this case the preceding prose sentence would lack a verb. Surely, the correct interpretation is visually presented in the text printed by Burman,13 in which the poem is set in italics, like all others, but, inside its first verse, the Roman type of exclamat stands out: the same as in the parts in prose. Slater apparently ignores the fact that our poem is part of an elaborate literary structure encompassing the whole episode taking place aboard Lichas’ ship.14 The part preceding Tryphaena’s direct intervention contains numerous

    8 9

    10 11 12 13 14

    rhetorical play. Barnes 1971, 226-227 believes Lucan’s influence not to be decisive in this poem. For the turn quis furor and for civil war conceived as furor cf. Habermehl 2006, 453, with the literature quoted and discussed. It is clear that he inadvertently blends Petronius and Lucan; correctly Courtney 1991, 28. Possibly an (unconscious?) similar attitude may be detected in one of the last English translators too, who extracts the verbum dicendi from Triphaena’s speech: Walsh 1996, 98: “declaiming: ‘What madness, etc.’”. Slater 1990a, 173 n. 24. Slater 1990a, 173. Nothing new in Connors 1998, 76. As Slater 1990a, 172 would have it. Burman 1743, I, 646. A valuable analysis of this part of the novel may be found in Maselli 1986. 171

    Chapter XI echoes of Livy,15 but when she steps to the foreground, even before she breaks into her metrical speech,16 the echoes from Livy (and historiographical prose) are joined by others harking back to epic, from Ennius17 down to Lucan,18 with the lion’s share allotted to Virgil.19 In particular, we may rest assured that Petronius had a Virgilian verse in mind20, as proved by the literal counterpart in the prose immediately preceding the poem.21 As it has been rightly pointed out,22 this “epic” speech, far from being abruptly introduced, is part of an elaborate parody of serious literature (in particular of epic and historiography) cleverly contrived by Petronius through his protagonist’s narration. As a consequence, it is no more than a truism to state that our poem is unrealistic.23 Slater24 suggests that the verbum dicendi inserted in the speech my be meant to mock the convention of direct speech in hexameter poetry. What parts of the heroes’ speeches, he asks, are effaced when the narrator inserts exclamat or ait into a direct discourse? He does not consider that such insertions were a comparatively recent achievement in this type of poetry, going back only to Alexandrian literature.25 Contrary to what Slater seems to assume, the trend was not toward separation, but rather toward an ever growing intertwining of direct speeches and narration, two components always accurately kept apart in Homer. The element adding flavor and substance to Petronius’ parody consists precisely in the reproduction of a “modern” epic speech – witness the fact that the Virgilian model of the poem’s opening line also has a verbum dicendi inserted within the speech.26 There is more. Tryphaena’s poem is followed by a transitional sentence which, though in prose, is weighted down by three solemn spondees, which for a moment prevent the reader from realizing that the poem is over.27 This sentence is clearly reminiscent of the formulas employed in epic to mark the end of a di15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

    27

    172

    See Maselli 1986, 284-285. Petr. 108.13. Enn. Ann. 32 Sk. accipe daque fidem; and cf. Verg. Aen. 8.150; Sall. Cat. 44.3; Liv. 22.22.16; see TLL VI 1, 671, 38-43. Lucan. 3.306 orant Cecropiae praelata fronde Minervae. Some Virgilian echoes are already pointed out by Collignon 1892, 122. Verg. Aen. 8.116 paciferaeque manu ramum praetendit (var. lect. protendit) olivae. Petr. 108.13 protendit ramum oleae. By Maselli 1986, 287. As done by Beck 1973, 48. Slater 1990a, 173. See Setaioli 1985, 102-103, 105, with the literature quoted and discussed. Verg. Aen. 5.670-671 ‘quis furor iste novus? Quo nunc, quo tenditis,’ inquit, / ‘heu miserae cives?’. For this reason I regard this Virgilian passage as much closer to Petronius than Lucan. 1.8 (quoted above, note 7), 1.681, and 7.95. Petr. 109.1 haec ut turbato clamore mulier effudit.

    Appeal to Peace (Petr. 108.14) rect speech.28 This was a device historians too were fond of. Livy often marks the end of a speech with a summarizing haec; at times he even resorts to metrical formulas borrowed from epic, such as haec ubi dicta dedit,29 an expression, we may note in passing, that even appears in Eumolpus’ epic essay, the Bellum civile.30 A mannerism like this lent itself to easy parody, as we see not merely here, but also in Seneca’s Apocolocyntosis.31 The irony cannot of course be denied, but its butt is the whole of serious literature,32 and Tryphaena’s speech is an integral part of a clever structure aiming to amuse the reader by mocking the linguistic and stylistic conventions of history, epic, and even juridical prose.33 Slater34 is right when he says that exclamat generates a retrospective desire for a nonexistent hexameter narrative preceding Tryphaena’s speech, but it should be added that the careful structural and literary preparation we have tried to illustrate, the mythological references appearing in the verse, and – last but not least – the adoption of the mannerisms of epic, including the insertion of the verbum dicendi into the speech and the formula marking its end, all contribute to making the reader almost ask himself whether he is not reading an epic poem. It is indeed difficult to conceive of a more successful parody. 2. V. 2 Quid nostrae meruere manu?] “What crime did they commit” to deserve this?35 Troius heros] This is the reading of O. L has hostis; Wehle36 proposed the conjecture hospes, but this, and L’s reading too, are probably due to a failure to grasp the irony implied by the transfer of Virgil’s designation of Aeneas to an anti-hero like Paris.37 28 29 30 31

    32 33 34 35

    36 37

    Cf. Setaioli 1985, 105. Liv. 22.50.10; cf. 3.61.7. In Petronius himself there is a burlesque application of the formula, to mark the end of a prose speech by the freedman Niceros: 61.5. Petr. 121.100. Sen. apoc. 4.1: a prose speech is followed by verse opening with the formulaic haec ait. The verse, in turn, closes with a speech by Apollo, whose end is marked in the following prose (4.2) through a summarizing haec Apollo. The parodical aspect is emphasized, among others, by Paratore 1933, II, 346. For the latter cf. Petr. 109.2-3. Slater 1990a, 173 n. 24. Cf. Courtney 1991, 28. Similarly Heseltine 1913, 223; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 235; Canali 1990, 187; Ernout 1923, 117. Cf. Ov. met. 15.120 quid meruere boves, animal sine fraude dolisque? Ussani 1905, 7 refers to Lucan. 7.642-643 quid meruere nepotes / in regnum nasci? Cf. also Habermehl 2006, 454; Vannini 2010, 205. Wehle 1961, 44. As correctly remarked by Maselli 1986, 287-288. Cf. also Habermehl 2006, 454; Vannini 2010, 206. 173

    Chapter XI V. 3. classe] Although undoubtedly only one ship (Lichas’) is referred to, some translate with “fleet”.38 As remarked by Courtney, this can only apply to the mythological reference to Paris, not to the immediate context.39 V. 5. Sed contemptus amor vires habet] These words may be understood as the statement of a cause of the fight on board different from that of the mythological conflicts just mentioned (“our struggle is not caused by crimes like Paris’ or Medea’s, but by unrequited love”);40 or they can be taken as expressing Tryphaena’s rhetorical objection to her own appeal to peace (“we should not fight, since we have no reasons for conflict like those that caused the Trojan war etc. – True, but unrequited love has its own power. – Alas,41 even so, should we challenge death on the sea?”).42 It should be obvious that, if we understand this way, a full stop must be placed at the end of line 4, but sometimes punctuation is not consistent with the renderings adopted. I believe the second interpretation to be preferable, since it allows a more natural understanding of vires habet. In addition, objections by the speaker to himself are not missing in Virgilian epic speeches43 and one occurs in a passage which was probably one of Petronius’ models for this poem.44 Vv. 7-8. Ne vincite pontum / gurgitibusque feris alios immittite fluctus] Burman proposed two alternatives: “ne… his aquis saevientibus alios furentium fluctus… immittite, vel… ne fluctibus marinis sanguineos rivos vulneribus immittite”.45 Ne vincite pontum inclines me to think that the alii fluctus are conceived of as homogeneous with the sea waves, even though more wicked (ne vincite); therefore I prefer to think of the metaphorical swelling of wrath’s storm rather than of bloody streams.

    38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

    174

    Heseltine 1913, 223; Slater 1990a, 171. Now Vannini 2010, 206. Courtney 1991, 28. See TLL III 2, 1293, 60-68 for instances of classis referred to one ship. Cf. Verg. Aen. 6.334. More texts in Habermehl 2006, 455. So e.g. Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 235; Ernout 1923, 117; Canali 1990, 187; Aragosti 1995, 413; Habermehl 2006, 456. Bücheler’s correction of et to ei is clearly necessary. So e.g. Heseltine 1913, 223; Slater 1990a, 171; Walsh 1996, 99; Scarsi 1996, 165. Cf. e.g. Verg. Aen. 4.603. Verg. Aen. 9.140 sed periise semel satis est. ~ Petr. 108.14.7 cui non est mors una satis? Burman 1743, I, 647. The first alternative is favored by Heseltine 1913, 223; Canali 1990, 187; Slater 1990a, 171; Aragosti 1995, 413; Connors 1998, 76-77; the second by Ernout 1923, 117; Pellegrino 1975, 399; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 235; Courtney 1991, 28; Walsh 1996, 99; Habermehl 2006, 457-458; Vannini 2010, 208.

    Appeal to Peace (Petr. 108.14) O’s reading (imponite) may have originated from pontum at the end of the previous line, as suggested by Bücheler in his first edition,46 although in his later ones he preferred it to immittite.

    46

    Bücheler 1862, 132. 175

    Chapter XII A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10)* 109.9

    109.10

    Quod solum formae decus est, cecidere capilli, vernantesque comas tristis abegit hiemps. Nunc umbra nudata sua iam tempora maerent, areaque attritis ridet adusta pilis. O fallax natura deum: quae prima dedisti aetati nostrae gaudia, prima rapis. Infelix, modo crinibus nitebas Phoebo pulchrior et sorore Phoebi. At nunc levior aere vel rotundo horti tubere, quod creavit unda, ridentes fugis et times puellas. Ut mortem citius venire credas, scito iam capitis perisse partem.

    5

    10

    1-6 L(=lrtp)O(=RP) 7-13 L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 1 solum: summum 6 post rapis lacunam indicant rtp1 7-13 recte ordinavit Turnebus: 7.9.11.8.10.12.13 codd. 10 unda: imber Jahn: umor seu umbra Busche

    1. The verses transcribed above are recited by Eumolpus aboard Lichas’ ship, after Encolpius and Giton have made peace with Lichas and Tryphaena and concord regained has produced a playful atmosphere encouraging the nearly drunk old poet to make fun of his two companions’ plight with what Encolpius regards as coarse and offensive jokes. As a matter of fact, Encolpius and Giton are (at least temporarily) bald and (at least ostensibly) branded like runaway slaves. After exhausting his whole stock of such jokes Eumolpus proceeds to recite verse, which will now only develop the first theme (the loss of hair), and is introduced

    Chapter XII with a Greek term which, in spite of the seeming obviousness of the literary reference, is anything but easy to interpret, besides not being attested anywhere else either in Greek or in Latin literature: elegidarion, immediately preceded by the genitive capillorum.1 This word has been variously understood, mainly in agreement with the several scholars’ overall interpretations, and especially with the various attitudes in relation to the problem of the unity of the poem, which consists of three elegiac couplets plus seven Phalaecean hendecasyllables. These parts can indeed be viewed as a single, polymetrical composition, like the one at chapter 5, or as two separate poems. All scholars agree in pointing out the word’s closeness to another term equally attested only once in the two ancient literatures: elegidion, a word employed by Persius in one of his satires.2 The diminutive form3 has led several scholars to assume a negative nuance to be implied in the word,4 which would perfectly suit the annoyed Encolpius’ mood, as he alludes to Eumolpus’ frigid jokes (which are not mimetically recorded in the text) and immediately after reproduces his poetic performance.5 A split in the scholars’ opinions, however, is already perceptible at this point. Some of the supporters of the poem’s unity identify the negative nuance of the diminutive with an alleged reference to a “perverted form” of elegy allowing the mixture of elegiac couplets and Pha* 1

    2

    3 4

    5

    178

    A version of this chapter has appeared with the title I versi in Petr. Sat. 109.9-10, “Prometheus” 26, 2010, 151-167. Petr. 109.8 cum Eumolpus et ipse vino solutus dicta voluit in calvos stigmososque iaculari, donec consumpta frigidissima urbanitate rediit ad carmina sua coepitque capillorum elegidarion dicere. Pers. 1.51-52 non si qua elegidia crudi / dictarunt proceres? This Persian parallel has been pointed out by Marbach 1931, 133. It has been subsequently referred to in all treatments of the problem posed by Petronius’ term. Among these, I call attention to Cavalca 2001, 82-83 and Habermehl 2006, 470-471. Landolfi, forthcoming 2-3 stresses the closenenss of the situation described by Persius to the one we find in the context in which our verse appears. I owe the opportunity to avail myself of this work to the author’s courtesy, that I thankfully acknowledge. The page numbers are those of the still unpublished printout. Actually a double diminutive, since elegidarion is probably formed from elegidion, itself a diminutive. Not simply a “kleine Elegie” (Marbach 1931, 133), but a “Mini-Elegie minderer Güte” (Habermehl 2006, 470). See also below, note 6. The pejorative nuance is made all but certain by the comparison with a similarly formed diminutive found at Petr. 53.11 baro insulsissimus cum scalis constitit puerumque iussit… odaria saltare. The context removes any doubt as to Encolpius’ negative opinion concerning these odaria. Baldwin 1988, 5 believes both elegidion and elegidarion to be terms used in literary circles, or a parody thereof. Beck 1979, 246-247 is surely right in believing frigidissima urbanitate (109.8) and ineptiora praeteritis (110.1) to represent Encolpius’ annoyed reaction rather than an objective assessment. Cf. also Soverini 1985, 1752 n. 206.

    A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) laecean hendecasyllables.6 On the other side, the boldest attempt to elicit from the term elegidarion a meaning supporting the poem’s division into two separate compositions has been carried out by Grazia Sommariva, who, despite the Greek ending -on, takes the word to be not a diminutive, but rather a collective noun to be included in the numerous group of Latin words ending with the suffix -arium, which is well attested in Petronius too. Capillorum elegidarion would then denote an “anthology of short poems lamenting the loss of hair”.7 This interpretation can hardly be accepted,8 but it has the merit to call attention to the nuance implied in the term “elegy” associating it with epicedium, dirge, and lamentation, even irrespective of the employment of the elegiac couplet.9 The question of whether the thirteen lines at 109.9-10 should be regarded as one poem or two separate compositions in different meters has in fact been hotly debated. Modern editors are in great majority separatist.10 In his great 1862 edition Bücheler, though he placed no typographical separation between couplets and Phalaeceans, hypothetically assumed in the apparatus that a short transition between the two parts might have been lost, also laying emphasis on the difference in meter.11 He has been followed, among others, by Ernout,12 CesareoTerzaghi,13 Pellegrino,14 Müller,15 and Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni.16 Nor are editors the only scholars who accept the splitting of the poem.17 6 7 8 9 10

    11 12 13 14 15

    16 17

    Cf. Yeh 2007, 519 n. 102: “une forme ‘pervertie’ de l’élégie”. Sommariva 1985, 46. Sommariva 1985, 46 n. 6 exhibits a praiseworthy awareness of the hurdles standing in the way of the interpretation she proposes. Aragosti 1995, 414-415 n. 310 too sees in the term elegidarion a reference “alla scelta tematica piuttosto che a quella metrica”. Heseltine 1913, 134 is apparently an exception. The verse is regarded as one poem in several popular editions too: Ciaffi 19672, 274-275; Aragosti 1995, 414 and n. 310; Reverdito 1995, 190-191; Scarsi 1996, 166-167. Bücheler 1862, 134: “sane quidem pauca neglexisse librarius uidetur uelut haec: deinde ad Gitona respiciens etiam hos addidit hendecasyllabos”. Ernout 1923, 119 n. 3. Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 101. Pellegrino 1975, 138-139. Müller 1961, 126, who, like Bücheler, assumes that a transition like mox etiam hendecasyllabos adiecit has been lost. Müller keeps the splitting of the poem in his later editions too. Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 113-114. Among others Scarcia 1964, 115-116 n. 64, who does not think it necessary to assume the loss of a prose transition between the two parts; Barnes 1971, 242-251, 300-303; Beck 1973, 47; Sommariva 1984a, 33; Sommariva 1985, 45; Baldwin 1988, 4; Slater 1990a, 108, 162-163, 183-184; Courtney 1991, 29; Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 106; Walsh 1996, 100; Connors 1998, 66; Plaza 2000, 180 (indecisive: “the elegiac part of the poem breaks off in the text as we have it;… the hendecasyllabic part of the poem”); Habermehl 2006, 471; 474; Vannini 2010, 222 (who assumes the loss of something like nec satiatus Gitoni pepercit, sed conversus ad eum hos versus adiecit). 179

    Chapter XII There are indeed several elements which might lead to regard the couplets and the hendecasyllables as two separate poems. Apart from the term elegidarion, which most scholars refer only to the part in elegiac couplets, it can hardly be denied that in this the tone is that of a dirge, almost an epicedium for lost hair, whereas in the hendecasyllables a mocking (“scoptic”) manner prevails, associating them with some epigrams by Martial treating the same subject and written in the same meter.18 The change in tone is emphasized by the transition from the couplets’ third person to the hendecasyllables’ second. These differences have been pointed out by most scholars. Some, like Barnes,19 call attention to the fact that the part in couplets seems to refer to the general situation of all mankind, i.e. to the natural baldness which old age entails,20 rather than to Encolpius’ and Giton’s situation at the moment, when they are afflicted by an artificial baldness of their own making, due to their vain attempt to escape Lichas’ and Tryphaena’s recognition. This is supposedly the reason why Slater21 believes the elegiac couplets to be a preexisting composition, a part of Eumolpus’ cut-and-dried repertoire, whereas the hendecasyllables should be regarded as an impromptu scoptic poem improvised at the moment.22 Finally, Encolpius’ biting judgment on Eumolpus’ verse in the prose that immediately follows (plura volebat proferre, credo, et ineptiora praeteritis)23 might be taken to mean that Eumolpus is reciting, or intends to recite, a whole series of poems.24 As the closing of the hendecasyllables appears to be a poem’s fitting conclusion, the plura which Eumolpus wished to add can hardly be understood as the continuation of the already begun composition; rather, they will be a new and different poem. But if this does not rule out that the preceding lines may belong to two different poems, it hardly proves it to be so: a new poem can be added to just one as well as to two. In support of the poem’s unity one may appeal – as the scholars advocating it have not failed to do25 – to the poem at chapter 5, a single composition made 18 19 20

    21 22

    23 24 25

    180

    Cf. Mart. 5.49; 10.83; 12.45. Barnes 1971, 244. Aetati nostrae (v. 6) is undoubtedly a general reference; and there is nothing in the text specifically referring forma to Encolpius’ or Giton’s specific good looks rather than to the handsomeness of all young people. Slater 1990a, 108, 162-163, 183-184. Other separatist scholars do not agree on this: for Sommariva 1985, 46 both parts belong in Eumolpus’ ready-made repertoire. By contrast, Courtney 2001, 165 believes both parts to be improvised at the moment. Labate 1995a, 160-161 takes no position on the problem of unity, but believes the verse to be improvised. Landolfi, forthcoming 2 regards the verse as one totally improvised poem. Petr. 110.1. This argument is utilized especially by Sommariva 1985, 46. Among the last to do so Aragosti 1995, 414 n. 310; Yeh 2007, 520; Landolfi, forthcoming 2. The most distinguished precedent is Collignon 1892, 242. The unity of the poem

    A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) up by eight choliambics followed by fourteen hexameters.26 Yet, aside from the fact that Agamemnon’s poem is not preceded by a caption alluding to meter, like the term elegidarion seems to do here, its part in hexameters is syntactically connected with the preceding choliambics; a self-standing poem could not begin with a sed,27 which, in addition, pointedly introduces a picture standing in opposition to the previous part and clearly ushers in the second panel of an indivisible diptych. By contrast, from the first to the second part of the verse at 109.9-10 we have witnessed not merely a shift in tone, but also the change from the third verbal person to the second, which is typical of scoptic poetry. The parallel with the verse at chapter 5, then, clearly shows that regarding the two parts as one composition is admissible, but is hardly sufficient to prove the unity of the poem. A crucial contribution to this poem’s correct interpretation has come from Luciano Landolfi,28 who refers to a work by a late author, the Encomium of Baldness by Synesius of Cyrene, which had already been associated with our verse by Petronius’ early interpreters.29 This writing opens with a lament on the loss of hair, followed by an extensive quotation from a Praise of Hair composed in the I century A.D. by Dio of Prusa, then by a forceful reaction, leading to the still more developed encomium of baldness, in which, following the best rhetorical tradition, all the currently employed themes are reversed in order to carry out the virtuoso handling of a seemingly paradoxical subject matter. Following in the wake of Wouveren30 Landolfi calls attention to the fact that, at the beginning of the work,31 so in the part lamenting the demise of hair, Synesius denotes as “elegies” his prose lamentations for the loss of hair. This amounts to an incontrovertible confirmation of something a few interpreters had already perceived,32 namely that in application to our verse the term elegidarion must not necessarily be taken as a reference to meter, but rather as an allusion to the theme of a dirge for the “death” of hair, in full agreement with the conception prevailing in antiquity as to the character and the very origin of elegiac poetry.33 This of course removes the main objection to the unity of our poem; in and by itself it is hardly sufficient, however, to prove it beyond doubt. One might still assume the coexistence of different poems, though supposedly linked by a common “elegiac” theme;34 Besides, although the term elegidarion seems to hint

    26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

    34

    has also been defended by Paratore 1933, II, 349; Cugusi 1967, 92; Mazzoli 1996, 4344; Rimell 2002, 188 n. 24. See ch. I. Petr. 5.9 sed sive armigerae rident Tritonidis arces, etc. Landolfi, forthcoming 4-5. Burman 1743, I, 651; González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 208. Ap. Burman 1743, I, 651. Synes. calv. enc. 2, 64B Cf. above, text to note 9. I will quote a couple of texts for all: Hor. ars 75; Ov. am. 3.9.2-3. As done by Sommariva 1985, 46. 181

    Chapter XII at one single composition, it would hardly be possible to rule totally out that, even if nothing is missing between the two groups of verses, this term might refer only to the couplets and not include the hendecasyllables, whose scoptic, rather than “elegiac”, character is clearly to be seen. We shall remark for the moment that the reference to Synesius proves that Eumolpus’ verse belongs in a specific rhetorical strand, from which it is only natural to think that he drew some traditional themes. It is hardly surprising, then, that the topoi normally applying to natural and irreversible baldness should be recycled by Eumolpus (actually by Petronius, who is fond of upsetting and desecrating all that is traditional in literature)35 in reference to Encolpius’ and Giton’s artificial and temporary one. Immediately before the verse the reader is notified, as we have already remarked,36 that Eumolpus pokes fun at the bald and the branded. But, as we know, Encolpius and Giton are only temporarily bald and only ostensibly branded: the inscriptio,37 or epigramma,38 that the man of letters Eumolpus has traced on their forehead has surely nothing to do with the branding of runaway slaves. One could think that the real “epigram” is none other than the jokes of the old poet on their seeming condition. He mocks Encolpius and Giton as though they were really branded; no wonder that in his verse he transfers a number of themes applying to the permanent baldness brought about by old age to their temporary one. This mocking transfer removes, in my opinion, the alleged contrast between a mournful attitude in the first part, addressed to mankind in general, and an easygoing fun-poking one in the second, addressed to a specific and actually present butt.39 The second strong objection against the unity of the poem is thus nullified. Once the negative part of the argument, consisting in the removal of the hurdles standing in the way of the recognition of our poem’s unity has been concluded, the most important, positive part remains to be carried out, namely the detection and elucidation of the links and structural correspondences connecting the two parts with each other.40 Underneath their prevailing character – “scop35 36 37 38 39

    40

    182

    For another possible reversal of the traditional topoi on baldness see below, § 3. Petr. 109.8, quoted above, note 1. Petr. 103.2. Petr. 103.4. I do not intend in the least to deny the scoptic tone in the hendecasyllables; but we shall immediately see that themes and intonations echo and cross one another in the two parts. The correct statement of Landolfi, forthcoming 4 that the shift in tone from the couplets to the hendecasyllables justifies the passage to a different meter might at first appear to be easily reversible: the tone, the separatists might retort, is different because these are two different poems. The links we will show, however, firmly connect the two parts, though they differ in tone, and confirm Landolfi’s idea. The links and correspondences we will now point out should be added to those indicated by Aragosti 1995, 415 n. 310 (in both parts a description is followed by a moralizing conclusion; in both there are oppositions and redundancies). In the first part of the

    A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) tic” in the second, more properly “elegiac” in the first – it is indeed possible to descry in each a clear mixture and intertwining of themes. In the elegiac couplets, aside from the ironic smile lurking under the lamenting tone (metaphorical puns and double entendres on which we shall dwell in § 3),41 a scoptic motif is already present: the threshing floor’s “laughter”, made possible by its being evoked to convey a lively image of the shining bald pate, which, as we shall see, foreshadows the laughing puellae of the hendecasyllables.42 In these, in turn, the prevailing scoptic tone yields at the end to a sort of funereal lamentation over the loss of hair,43 which may be termed “elegiac”, thus framing the whole composition – couplets and hendecasyllables – in a clever Ringkomposition and a perfectly balanced structure: cecidere capilli (v. 1) is matched and developed at the end (v. 13) by capitis perisse partem, which retrospectively casts the shadow of death on the opening of the verse. Besides, in the verbs appearing both in the couplets and in the hendecasyllables we witness an insistent alternation of past and present (est; cecidere; abegit; maerent; ridet; dedisti; rapis; nitebas; fugis et times; ut… credas, scito… perisse). The present (after the gnomic est) always refers to the sad situation of the moment; the past tenses recall (with the perfect) the moment of the loss of hair (cecidere; abegit; perisse), and the long-lost happy state (with the imperfect: nitebas). The final confirmation of the poem’s unity is provided by Synesius. The first line of our poem, with its definition of hair as beauty’s one attractiveness, is closely paralleled in Synesius’ opening lament over the loss of hair;44 and – more important – in the same part of Synesius’ work two themes appear which are both found in Petronius’ verse, but one in the couplets,45 the other in the

    41 42

    43

    44

    45

    same note (p. 414) Aragosti also offers a plausible explanation for the mark indicating a lacuna which appears between couplets and hendecasyllables in a part of the tradition. But we can as of now anticipate that a multiple semantic level can be perceived in both parts – which amounts to a further proof of the poem’s unity. Another scoptic detail – at a different semantic level – anticipated in the couplets may possibly be nitebas in the first hendecasyllable, in which the reversal of a current topos is probably to be seen (cf. below, § 3). A lament over the capillorum fata as the prelude to man’s inescapable fate also appears in a fragment of the emperor Domitian transmitted by Suet. Dom. 18 eadem me tamen manent capillorum fata etc. Petr. 109.9.1 quod solum formae decus est ~ Synes. calv. enc. 1, 63B ! " The opposite, complementary assertion in Petr. 108.1 spoliati capitis dedecus. Petr. 109.5-6 quae prima dedisti / aetati nostrae gaudia ~ Synes. calv. enc. 1, 63B (immediately after the words quoted in the preceding note) #(= $ ) . The theme of the “first joy” is common in Latin poetry. Landolfi, forthcoming 10-11 refers not to Synesius, but to Lucr. 6.4; Prop. 1.13.24 (cf. Sen. HF 874) The application of the topos to hair, however, is only found in the passages of Petronius and Synesius mentioned above. Mazzoli 1996, 44 n. 59 refers to Verg. georg. 3.66-68. 183

    Chapter XII hendecasyllables:46 a further proof of Petronius’ use of the same topoi in both parts, and, by implication, of the unity of the poem. 2. The problem concerning the addressee of the verse is seemingly less important than the question of unity, but is nevertheless closely connected with it. Some separatists think both parts to be addressed to the same character(s): to Encolpius alone or to Encolpius and Giton;47 but it is clearly possible, if the two parts are taken to be two separate poems, to regard them as directed to different addressees. Bücheler took it for granted that the hendecasyllables are directed to Giton;48 he has been followed, among others, by Barnes,49 who, as we have seen, believes the elegiac couplets to address all mankind – old people in particular, and therefore the author himself: Eumolpus.50 This interpretation agrees with that of some early readers of Petronius, testified by a certainly inauthentic reading found in a part of the tradition: in capillos suos elegidarion in lieu of capillorum elegidarium,51 but in my opinion it is invalidated by what we have said on Eumolpus’ recycling of the traditional topoi connected with natural baldness to describe an artificial one.52 According to other scholars, by contrast, the hendecasyllables are directed to Encolpius.53 Among the supporters of the unity of the poem, Yeh believes it to be addressed to the latter.54 In my opinion the repeated references in the preserved parts of the Satyrica to both Encolpius’ and Giton’s hair55 should lead to believe that both are deeply affected by its loss, and as a consequence that Eumolpus’ poems is addressed to both. The second person singular, typical of scoptic compositions, used in the hendecasyllables does not necessarily mean that they are directed to one ad46 47

    48 49 50 51 52 53

    54 55

    184

    Petr. 109.9.11 ridentes fugis et times puellas ~ Synes. calv. enc. 1, 63D $ % Both parts (both poems) are addressed to Encolpius alone for Habermehl 2006, 474; to Encolpius and Giton according to Beck 1973, 43 and Sommariva 1985, 45 (who however believes the hendecasyllables to refer mainly to Giton’s baldness) Bücheler 1862, 134. Cf. above, note 11. Barnes 1971, 244, 301. Barnes 1971, 245. This reading goes back to the Cuiacianus (it is found in l and in the variae lectiones of the editio Tornaesiana). Cf. e.g. Pellegrino 1975, 400. This interpretation is rejected by Habermehl 2006, 471 too. So Slater 1990a, 184 (who, as we saw, believes the couplets to be a preexisting poem, a part of Eumolpus’ repertoire), and Connors 1998, 66 (though immediately after she appears to regard the hendecayllables as directed both to Encolpius and Giton). Yeh 2007, 521. Encolpius wears a long and well-groomed hair, both before and after his temporary baldness (18.4; 126.2). Giton is curly and his hair attracts people’s attention (58.2; 58.8; 97.2). Landolfi, forthcoming 7 rightly remarks that for Giton as well as for Encolpius “il capo raso non può non rappresentare una delle perdite più gravi per il loro stesso statuto di amasi”.

    A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) dressee. Nevertheless, the reader who remembers the threat uttered by Hermeros during the Cena against the “twopence mop” of the “curly onion” named Giton56 can hardly fail to get the impression that now that threat has come true, and that – if not in the intention of the character Eumolpus, who is not aware of this threat – at least in the author’s strategy these lines are aimed primarily at the boy and amount to one of the many cross-references granting Petronius’ novel a cohesiveness that can be grasped even in the pitiful condition his work has come down to us.57 We have repeatedly remarked that Encolpius’ and Giton’s baldness is not the irreversible one brought about by old age, but is only temporary, being due to the thorough shaving they have undergone. This should make us wary in assessing a recently quite successful interpretation which perceives in our verse, ending with an allusion to death, a symbolic foreshadowing of the impending shipwreck and of Lichas’ death.58 It has been put forward by Connors,59 who takes the cue from a correct remark (actually largely anticipated by an essay regretfully neglected by the majority of scholars)60: the violation of the seafarers’ taboo incurred through the cutting of the hair on board, which should then be regarded as the ultimate cause for the shipwreck and the death of Lichas. That Petronius does lead the reader to expect this denouement can hardly be doubted by anyone who remembers Hesus’ denunciation of the broken taboo,61 the ensuing wrath of Lichas, and the punishment of the culprits ordered by the latter in atonement for the crime.62 Once this point has been established, however, it seems to be needless (and perhaps misleading) to look for further indications where they are not clearly signaled by the author. In this particular connection, the allusion to death at the end of our verse concerns Encolpius and Giton, not Lichas. That a symbolism of this type might be contained in the poem cannot be peremptorily ruled out, but at any rate it would add nothing new: the reader expects the shipwreck since chapter 103, i.e. since Eumolpus’ promptly followed advice to shave Encolpius’ and Giton’s heads. By the same token – ac56 57

    58 59 60 61 62

    Petr. 58.2 cepa cirrata; 58.5 curabo, longe tibi sit comula ista besalis. See app. I. A poetic parallel that may confirm that the addresseee of our lines is indeed Giton is Hor. c. 4.10, an ode addressed to Ligurinus, who is a puer delicatus like Giton (at v. 3 deciderint comae may remind of Petr. 109.9.1 cecidere capilli). In Horace the loss of hair is one of the marks of decay brought about by age. The hint at the ridentes puellae poses no problem: we have seen that it was topical (above, note 46); besides, Giton is clearly bisexual (26.3-4; 109.8; etc.). After Connors (see following note), it is accepted by Plaza 2000, 179-180; Courtney 2001, 165; Landolfi, forthcoming 7. Connors 1959, 67-68. I am referring to Scarola 1986, with the bibliography on the seafaring taboo quoted and discussed. Petr. 104.5, Petr. 105.1 (navigium lustrari) and ff. 185

    Chapter XII tually on a sounder basis, since both the omen and the outcome would concern Encolpius – one might contend that the hint at the “death of a part of the head” on which our poem comes to an end could prelude to the “death” of another part of the body, which will affect the protagonist at Croton.63 Grazia Sommariva’s interpretation64 appears to be more pertinent. She regards our verse as the unmasking of the weakness and inconsistency of Lichas and Tryphaena, who yield to an amorous revival and promptly forget their former wrath and the broken taboo, to the point that Eumolpus can make it the object of frivolous verse, while only shortly before he was trying to justify it not unlike a barrister in court. Nor should we forget that, like pointed out by Beck,65 these lines are those best suited to be regarded as the purely mimetic reproduction of a poem presented by the author as actually uttered by a character in the situation described. In addition, we learn in the following episode that Encolpius’ hair not only has grown back, but once more makes him sexually attractive66 – which should make us even more wary of interpretations burdening our poem with excessive funereal implications, beyond the topical reference to the shortness of life and youth. 3. In view of the later description of Encolpius’ hair grown gloriously back, we should hardly consider the conclusion of our poem in and by itself. If we did so, then this lines would appear more pessimistic67 than Ovid’s elegy that Collignon already associated with our Petronian verse:68 the one which describes Corinna’s lost hair but ends on an optimistic note by hinting at her hair growing back.69 Petronius has been undoubtedly influenced by this elegy, but this influence, even more than in the verse,70 is perceptible in the episode as a whole, including 63 64 65 66 67 68

    69 70

    186

    As suggested by Yeh 2007, 521. And for the caput of that part, cf. 132.8.7 (cap. IV). Proposed by Sommariva 1984a, 33-34. Beck 1973, 47. Petr. 126.2 quo enim spectant flexae pectine comae…? As it is in fact regarded by Plaza 2000, 179 n. 2 and Habermehl 2006, 471. Collignon 1892, 265. More recently the influence of a famous fragment of Anacreon (fr. 44 Diehl = 50 Page = 36 Gentili) and of the Anacreontics has also been detected: cf. e.g. Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 101; Cugusi 1967, 92; Gagliardi 1980, 110 n. 59; Plaza 2000, 179 n. 429. But Anacreon’s fragment laments old age, and mentions gray hair, not baldness. According to Dehon 1993 our poem is a parody of [Sen.] HO 380 ff. In that passage there are indeed several terms also found in Petronius (forma; vernantes; comas; decus; cf. cecidit; rapuit; eripuit), but we deal with a simile, not with a pregnant metaphor like in Petronius. In addition, the foliage of trees is not expressly associated with hair and the comparison concerns the withering of beauty in general, not baldness in particular. Cf. now Vannini 2010, 223. Ov. am. 1.14.55-56 collige cum vultu mentem: reparabile damnum est; / postmodo nativa conspiciere coma. The textual contacts between Ovid and the Petronian poem are not numerous; the only really striking one is Petr. 109.9.1 cecidere capilli ~ Ov. am. 1.14.31 periere comae (cf.

    A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) the prose frame, just like Ovid’s elegy on impotence has left a trace in all the comparable episode of the Satyrica.71 So, for example, the wigs which will cover Encolpius’ and Giton’s shaven pates recall the wig that Corinna will wear;72 there is more: Encolpius’ blond wig reminds of Corinna’s, which is made with hair coming from Germany. And we have already seen that both Encolpius’ and Corinna’s hair will luxuriantly grow back. Our poem actually offers textual parallels with other Ovidian texts,73 one of which compares the falling of hair with the falling of leaves: a theme insistently recurring in Petronius’ elegiac couplets.74 But, aside from the contacts with Ovid, Eumolpus’ verse can be included in a tradition extending from Homer to mime and epigram and down to the Greek love novel.75 We may actually assume one of the key elements of the Petronian episode to lie precisely in the parody of a novelistic theme.76 In Achilles Tatius the heroine Leucippe’s head is shaven because she really becomes a slave,77 whereas Encolpius and Giton have their heads shaven of their own accord, in order to pass themselves off as slaves. In Xenophon of Ephesus Anthia, like queen Berenice, consecrates in all seriousness a part of her hair to the Sungod,78 whereas in Petronius this theme is touched upon in a mocking question by Lichas.79 But all this concerns Petronius’ treatment of the topic of baldness in the whole episode. As far as the verse in particular is concerned, it should be em-

    71 72 73 74

    75

    76 77 78 79

    1.14.35 periisse capillos); but Petronius is equally close to the already mentioned (above, note 57) Hor. c. 4.10.3 deciderint comae. The further alleged parallels with the Ovidian elegy pointed out by Barnes 1971, 245-246, 301-302 are not particularly close to our poem. Cf. Ov. am. 3.7 and see ch. XVIII. Petr. 110.1-5 ~ Ov. am. 1.14.45-50; Cf. Stöcker 1969, 15 n. 3; Barnes 1971, 302. Listed by Landolfi, forthcoming 7. Ov. ars 3.161-162 raptique aetate capilli / ut Borea frondes excutiente, cadunt (the same coupling of hair and vegetation at ars 3.249-250 turpe… / et sine fronde frutex et sine crine caput). Substituting the ambivalent comas for frondes Petronius transforms Ovid’s simile into a metaphor which is part of the elaborate system of semantic polyvalence governing the whole poem. See below. A short history of the topic, both in the high and the humbler literary genres, is sketched by Stöcker 1969, 12-16. Landolfi, forthcoming 10 refers to some Greek epigrams by Lucillius (AP 11.68; 11.310), Nicharchos (AP 11.398), and Lucian (AP 11.434) and contends that Mart. 5.49 and 12.45 (but cf. also 10.83) are influenced by Petronius, besides harking back to Thersites at Hom. Il. 2-218-219. We may also call attention to the Homeric descriptions of Ulysses transformed and made bald by Athena, so that he would not be recognized (e.g. Hom. Od. 13.431; 18.353-355). For this element in the Satyrica see app. III. Ach. Tat. 5.17.5; 8.5.4. Xen. Eph. 5.11.5. Petr. 107.15 cui deo crinem vovisti? 187

    Chapter XII phasized that it revolves around an insistent polysemous pregnancy which constitutes its true expressive character.80 The multiple semantic level appears since line 2, where the double metaphor begins, which associates hair with vegetation on the one hand,81 and his waxing and waning with the alternation of seasons – limited for the moment to spring and winter – on the other.82 The vegetable metaphor continues in line 3 (the “shade” provided by hair for the temples is clearly equated with that from the foliage of the trees);83 but with maerent the poet brings us back to human sensibility, touched by the sadness of the event, at the same time opposing it to the laughter appearing in the next verse.84 In this, marked by an insistent alliteration (area, attritis, adusta), the metaphor of the seasons reappears, now providing a transitional element between the two seasons already named (spring and winter); the image of threshing, easily recognizable in line 4, reminds the reader of summer, or rather of its end, when, once harvesting is completed, the barren season begins. Once hair has been “threshed”, only an empty and sun-baked “threshing floor” (i.e. the bald pate) is left; and as this “threshing” produces no harvest, but only loss, Petronius pointedly associates area not with tero, the verb commonly employed in the sense of “threshing”,85 but with a compound, attero, in which the idea of friction, which it shares with the simple verb, is often linked with that of wear, attrition (an English word derived from this very Latin verb), and destruction; he also plays with the double meaning of area, which besides designating the threshing floor 80

    81 82 83

    84

    85

    188

    This peculiarity might lead one to consider the reading summum in lieu of solum (LO) offered by in line 1: cf. Hamacher 1975, 130. We may indeed wonder whether Petronius meant to play with a double entendre from the very beginning (“highest” both in proper and metaphorical sense). Such is the opinion of Hendry 1993, 8, which has not been accepted by editors and commentators. The reading summum was also preferred by González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II 208. As already shown (above, note 74), Petronius changes to a metaphor the simile at Ov. ars 3.161-162 by substituting the ambivalent comas for frondes. Habermehl 2006, 472-473 thinks that a distant echo of the famous Homeric simile of the leaves (Il. 6.146-149 ~ 21.464-466) can also be detected here. The theme must have been topical, if Synes. calv. enc. 11, 75B can state: & . Hair, then, is a shadow-making protection the human body is naturally endowed with, and it can serve the same purpose as trees. I believe the double entendre in the word tempora (“temples”/”times”) suggested by Rimell 2002, 188 n. 24 should be resolutely rejected. The alleged parallels she quotes are not such at all. In Ov. met. 1.4 it is hardly possible to see any allusions to the temples; in Ov. fast. 4.11-16 there is no double entendre: tempora occurs twice, first in the meaning of “times”, then in the meaning of “temples”. The opposition maerent (v. 3) / ridet (v. 4) is emphasized by Bücheler 1862, 134 (and already by Burman 1743, I, 652 and González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 208). Courtney 1991, 29 is skeptical about it. For tero in this meaning associated with area cf. e.g. Verg. georg. 1.192 teret area culmos; Hor. sat. 1.1.45 milia frumenti tua triverit area centum; Tib. 1.5.22 area dum messes sole calente teret.

    A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) is also a technical term indicating a part of the pate no more covered by hair.86 As for ridet, besides being opposed to maeret, it refers primarily to the shining bald pate, a theme going back to Homer himself;87 but it also anticipates nitebas at the beginning of the hendecasyllables, where, as we shall presently see, Petronius plays with the theme of brightness associated with luxuriant hair as well as with a bald pate. In ridet we may also perceive the connotation of a mocking laugh, in reference to a “threshing” that entails no harvest but only loss; it thus anticipates the scorning laughter of the ridentes puellae in the hendecasyllables. Adusta refers to the sun-baked threshing floor in summer, but also to the bald pate no more shaded by hair (cf. v. 3), and thus exposed to the sun’s scorching heat; we may remind that this very term (adustus) is used by Pliny in reference to parts of the body no more covered with hair because of burns.88 With the hendecasyllables metaphor gives way to simile, but pregnancy and semantic polyvalence do not disappear. Nitebas refers to the luster of the longlost hair, and indeed niteo, nitidus, and related words are not rarely employed in this connection.89 In most cases, however the luster of hair is not native, but caused by ointments.90 On the other hand, however, these very words may also be referred to a shining bald pate.91 This bivalence may help us understand the following verse. Most scholars take Phoebo pulchrior et sorore Phoebi to refer to the divine siblings Apollo and Diana.92 But, though some scattered hints at the beauty of Diana’s hair do appear in ancient literature,93 and sometimes she is even paired with her brother

    86

    87

    88 89 90

    91 92 93

    Cels. 6.4.1 arearum quoque duo genera sunt. Commune utrique est, quod emortua summa pellicula pili primum extenuantur, deinde decidunt etc.; Mart. 5.49.6-7 nudumst in medio caput, nec ullus / in longa pilus area notatur. In Mart. 10.83.2-3 latum nitidae… calvae / campum a term (campus) appears which can be semantically coupled with the Italian “piazza” in reference to a bald head. Hom. Od. 18.353-355 ' ( ) */ & + & / & & ! " . Ulysses, made bald by Athena, is standing in the light of the torches (v. 342), reflects their light with his pate and is thus mocked by Eurymachos. This passage is quoted and used to his own ends by Synes. calv. enc. 11, 74D. Plin. NH 21.126 pilos quoque adustis reddunt (quoted by Stubbe 1933, 175; Habermehl 2006, 473). One may refer to the numerous texts quoted by Habermehl 2006, 474-475; Landolfi, forthcoming 11. As remarked by Habermehl 2006, 474 (and already by Burman 1743, I, 653). Some cases in which no ointments are referred to are not wanting: e.g. Hor. c. 3.19.25; Prop. 3.10.14; Ov. ars 1.732; trist. 2.172. Suffice it to quote, for all, Mart. 10.83.2 nitidae… calvae (above, note 86). Habermehl 2006, 475 does so too, but he adds that the repetition of Phoebus’ name at both ends of the line sheds “the sun’s divine light” upon the verse. At Hom. Od. 20.80 Artemis is said to be ( 189

    Chapter XII in this respect,94 if another deity’s hair is associated with Apollo’s proverbially beautiful one, it is usually Bacchus’.95 In my opinion we are again faced with a double semantic level. The heavenly bodies they rule over and symbolize – the sun and the moon – superpose themselves upon the divine figures:96 the nitere of long-lost hair is thus compared with the radiance of the heavenly bodies,97 also in connection with, and opposition to, the ridere of the sun-baked area. But perhaps Petronius’ literary play is subtler still. In a Heidelberg papyrus going back to the second half of the III century B.C.98 we read a collection of scoptic topoi ordered, as it appears, on the basis of the peculiarities made fun of. A group exhibiting interesting details, from our point of view, is titled . It is unfortunately not possible to determine whether the reference was to red-headed people or to people with a reddish complexion, although the adjective is usually referred to red hair. It should not escape us, at any rate, that two of the comparisons suggested in the papyrus bring to mind those we find in Petronius; the is equated with the sun (at sunset, and therefore red) and with bronze (red-hot, and so having a similar color).99 As we saw, in our poem we should read a reference to the sun behind the name of Phoebus; and bronze is expressly mentioned in the following line: a proof that Petronius drew on a stock of traditional scoptic associations. The group that would probably be by far the most interesting for us is the one entitled [ ] [ ] : “against the bald”; but unfortunatly the text is severely mangled. Siegmann offers an apparently satisfactory reconstruction: “why do you not rise when the sun sets? Your head is like the moon (or the sun)…; you do not have a head, but a full moon”.100 We should of course not forget that the words “sun” and “moon” can never be surely read in the papyrus, but also keep in mind that the coupling of a bald 94 95 96

    97 98 99 100

    190

    Ov. ars 3.141-144. Cf. e.g. Tibull. 1.4.37-38; Ov. am. 1.14.31-32; met. 3.421. For the beauty of Apollo’s hair see the numerous texts adduced by Habermehl 2006, 475-476; Vannini 2010, 225. In Petr. 124.269 (Bellum civile) cum Phoebo soror (also formally reminiscent of our verse) denotes the gods Apollo and Diana; but at 89.54 (Troiae halosis) plena Phoebe denotes the full moon, and at 122.181-182 (Bellum civile) a miraculous sunshine is so decribed: ipse nitor Phoebi vulgato latior orbe / crevit et aurato praecinxit fulgure vultus. Clearly, in his poetry Eumolpus uses these names indifferently to denote either the divine siblings or the sun and the moon. Niteo is often used in reference to the sun, the moon, or the stars: cf. e.g. Lucr. 5.705; Tibull. 1.3.93; Ov. fast. 5.543; Val. Flacc. 5.413. PHeid 190: cf. Siegmann 1956, 27-37. PHeid 190, fr. 1.68 ] ! & ; 71 ] ! & & ! Siegmann 1956, 36 reconstructs lines 82, 83, and 87 in this way: %/ ( ) (or ) / ... ( ) ! & In the papyrus, however, we only read [ / … [ / … ! & [

    A Dirge on Lost Hair (Petr. 109.9-10) head with the sun, the moon, and the stars appears with certainty in Synesius.101 We are then justified in assuming that Petronius may have reversed a scoptic theme referring to baldness by applying it to the glow of hair (but, notice, of a lost hair). It would be attractive to think that this reversal might have left a trace in a novelistic text often quoted in reference to our Petronian poem: the “encomium of hair” we read in the second book of Apuleius’ Metamorphoses.102 There Apuleius describes the glow of the sun’s reflection on the hair by resorting to terms related to Petronius’ nitebas.103 But it is of course impossible to go much farther beyond pointing out the passage and making a suggestion. On the second comparison in the hendecasyllables, and particularly on the nature of the horti tuber of line 10, we shall dwell in detail later on;104 here I shall only remark that in may opinion this horti tuber is a gourd. The last semantic polyvalence appears in the warning closing the poem: capitis probably refers to the head in the proper sense of the word as well as to the metaphoric meaning of “life”, as pointed out by Courtney:105 the loss of hair symbolizes death’s inexorable approaching. This is the final seal in a composition focusing from the very beginning on pregnant polysemy, and a further, convincing clue pointing to its unity.

    101

    102 103 104 105

    Cf. the whole chapter 8 of the Encomium of Baldness. Synesius, who praises baldness, naturally gives the coupling a positive turn: the bald head resembles the perfection of the heavenly bodies’ round shape. Apul. met. 2.8-9. Apul. met. 2.9 quid cum capillis color gratus est et nitor splendidius inlucet et contra solis aciem vegetus fulgurat vel placidus renitet…? See app. I, with the literature quoted and discussed. Courtney 1991, 29; Courtney 2001, 165. His interpretation is accepted by Plaza 2000, 180. Hendry 1983, 7-8 thinks of a triple semantic level (by pretending to be slaves, Encolpius and Giton would have incurred a deminutio capitis), which is also assumed to be there by Habermehl 2006, 478. 191

    Chapter XIII Amorous Blasphemy (Petr. 126.18)* Quid factum est, quod tu proiectis, Iuppiter, armis inter caelicolas fabula muta taces? Nunc erat a torva submittere cornua fronte, nunc pluma canos dissimulare tuos. Haec vera est Danae. Tempta modo tangere corpus, iam tua flammifero membra calore fluent.

    5

    L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 2 iaces Fraenkel 5 Dane RP: damna B: Daphne recc.

    1. These three elegiac couplets are preceded and followed in L by asterisks signaling a lacuna – which does not help us determine their relation to the prose narrative. According to Aragosti1 there is no lacuna either before or after the poem; he believes the verse to amount to a paroxysmic amplification of the preceding prose description of Circe’s beauty, and immediately after, at the beginning of chapter 127, the resuming prose to record the lady’s pleased reaction to the poem, as signaled by her smile. This of course necessarily assumes that these lines are recited by the character Encolpius to the lady facing him in the narrated situation.

    * 1

    A version of this chapter has appeared as part of Cinque poesie petroniane (Sat. 82.5, 83.10, 108.14, 126.18, 132.15), “Prometheus” 24, 1998, 217-242 (pp. 232-237) Aragosti 1995, 480 n. 374.

    Chapter XIII This hypothesis is not new,2 but even several scholars who admit the lacunae believe the verse to be uttered aloud by the character Encolpius and Circe’s smile to represent her reaction to it.3 In my opinion it is necessary to make a careful distiction between Encolpius as a character acting in the story and Encolpius as the narrator recounting it. It is true that, if the poem is nothing but a reinforced and, so to speak, concentrated reworking of the preceding prose description of Circe’s beauty, it is not necessary to assume the presence of a lacuna between this and the verse. But, if so, the verse belongs to Encolpius as narrator and cannot be assumed to be uttered aloud by Encolpius as an acting character; as a consequence, Circe, who is herself a character acting at this level, cannot signal by smiling her reaction to a poem she could not possibly have heard, and we must assume that the reason for this smile has been lost in a lacuna after the verse. If, on the contrary, we admit that the lady’s smile is a reaction to Encolpius’ poem, then we must admit that a caption informing the reader that the poem is actually recited by him has been lost in a lacuna, more likely before the verse than after it. At any rate at least one lacuna, either before or after the poem must be assumed; and as a lacuna is marked both before and after it in L, there probably was one in both places. If we admit the lacuna, the poem could be explained in a third way too; not only might it be either the narrator’s poetic recapitulation or a line uttered by the acting character: it could also be the latter’s silent thought, in keeping with a situation in which the character Encolpius is lost in a daze caused by Circe’s stunning beauty. The poem appears indeed to express his feelings toward the lady in the situation described and could well be a silent monologue just like the the very similar one we find later on in the prose narrative.4 We should also notice the prevalence of the present tense in the poem and the two nunc at lines 3 and 4. In the Satyrica there are some cases in which Encolpius’ verses, either uttered (the only sure case being the prayer to Priapus at 133.3) or silently addressed to himself, refer to the specific novelistic situation;5 by contrast, there seems to be no poem addressed by him to other acting characters; all the more, then, there are no reactions by any of these of the type many scholars attribute to Circe. The poem at 133.3, as we said, is the only case in which some verse is almost certainly uttered aloud by the character Encolpius; the one at 139.2 to2 3

    4 5

    194

    It had been put forward, though doubtfully, by Stöcker 1969, 36 n. 3. E.g. Beck 1973, 50; Roncali 1986, 106 and n. 1; Blickmann 1988, 11; Slater 1990a, 125 n. 20 (“a response to Encolpius’ poem”, although on p. 164 n. 13 he contradictorily states, about these verses, that “we need not assume that they are actually addressed to Circe”); Courtney 1991, 30; Sommariva 1996, 61. Doubtfully Connors 1998, 70. Petr. 138.6 quid huic formae aut Ariadne habuit aut Leda simile? etc. Cf. Beck 1973, 49-50, who, however, does not acknowledge the general, programmatic import of 132.5.

    Amorous Blasphemy (Petr. 126.18) tally lacks a context; and surely to himself (in spite of the rhetorical address to the Catones) does he direct the elegiac couplets at 132.15, a passage which, though not unrelated to the specific situation, entails nevertheless much broader implications.6 It should not escape us that in all these poems verbs are used in the present tense. I do not intend to rule out unconditionally that our poem might be recited by Encolpius to Circe. I only wish to warn against the danger of any superficial simplification: on the one hand such a hypothesis cannot be put forward without assuming that a caption justifying it has been lost in a lacuna; on the other, it is necessary to assess its credibility on the basis of what we can still read of the Satyrica, without forgetting that this would be an unparalleled case in the part of the novel that has come down to us. As commonly assumed, the whole Circe episode centers on a tight web of references to her namesake in the Odyssey and her relation to Ulysses.7 It cannot be doubted, however, that a different Homeric episode has been used as a “model” by Petronius in his description of her and Encolpius’ first amorous tryst: the love scene between Hera and Zeus in the XIV book of the Iliad. The influence of this episode is especially apparent in the hexameters at 127.9, but it extends to the whole context, including the prose frame.8 The two poems at 126.18 and 127.9 are in fact related and complementary, not merely because Jupiter is protagonist in both,9 but also because both contain the theme of the flame of love, which had long been current in Latin poetry, and was actually older than neoterism.10 The “degradation” of the epic model, unmistakably brought about by content and context, is emphasized in the opening of our verse, so colloquial11 as to be literally picked up by Martial in an epigram in hendecasyllables.12 But the whole poem is a reworking of a particular motif developed in the Homeric episode we have referred to: the list of Zeus’ amorous conquests,13 pointedly reversed and made into an exprobratio14 addressed to the supreme god for giving up making love to earthly beauties. 6 7 8 9 10

    11 12 13 14

    See ch. XVII. Possibly, Encolpius directed a lost poem to Agamemnon (cf. ch. 1). See Fedeli 1988 for a punctual evaluation of the parallels. As partially pointed out by Stöcker 1969, 27, and then demonstrated in detail by Roncali 1986. As pointed out by Slater 1990a, 174-175 and Sommariva 1996, 61; 65. It appears for instance in an epigram by Tiburtinus (CE 934 = CIL IV 4966), on which see M. Gigante 1979, 81-86; Tandoi 1982-1983, 4-6; and, for its relation with our Petronian poem, Cutolo 1986, 67-70. Quid factum est, quod is reminiscent of the Horatian Satires’ famous openig (Hor. sat. 1.1.1 qui fit… ut). Mart. 5.44.1-2 quid fatcum est… quod. Hom. Il. 14.317-327; cf. Roncali 1986, 108-109 ; Courtney 2001, 193. This is the term used by Burman 1743, I, 782. 195

    Chapter XIII This topic frequently appears in Hellenistic poetry;15 at Rome, aside from our Petronian poem, the only instance seems to be a Propertian passage;16 but in the Anthologia Palatina the theme of the supreme god’s amorous renunciation is anything but rare. We find it in Palladas,17 Leonides of Alexandria, and Straton.18 The presence of this theme in Petronius’ poem has been pointed out by several scholars.19 Its treatment not rarely entails an irreverent attitude toward the highest Olympian deity. In Palladas’ epigram, for instance, Zeus leaves the pretty courtesan alone only because, as the poet says, he is accustomed to seduce princesses. But Petronius implies a different and much more desecrating explanation: if he once more turned himself into a swan, the feathers would now conceal his gray hair. This detail is rightly emphasized by Sommariva.20 I believe, however, that the meaning and import of this poem can be completely grasped only through a comparison with two Christian writers that were active when the legacy of pagan culture was still lively and vital. The theme of the gods’ “old age” is a Euhemeristic topic much older than Christianity, even though the Christians gladly appropriated it in their polemic against traditional deities. From this standpoint the alleged gods were really men bound to grow old and die: by now they are either dead or weak and effete. Metaphorically, this means that hardly anybody, by now, believes in gods (especially Jupiter) and their myths. This much is stated by Minucius Felix,21 who shortly before had explicitly mentioned Euhemerus.22 Our Petronian verse develops the same theme, including some verbal correspondences: Jupiter has gray hair23 and is a myth which has nothing to say any more.24 15 16

    17

    18 19 20 21 22

    23 24

    196

    Page 1981, 507 formulates it as follows: “has Zeus given up chasing beauties on earth?” Prop. 2.2.3-4. Stat. silv. 1.2.130-136 and [Sen.] Oct. 762-772 are no more than a courtly homage to the lady’s beauty. These texts are already cited by Burman 1743, I, 782. For Propertius see Alfonsi 1960, 254 and Dimundo 1998, 76. AP 5.257, for a woman, with the mention of the very same three heroines as in our Petronian poem: Europa, Danae, and Leda, who also appear together in Bassus, AP 5.125, and in the passage of the Octavia quoted in the preceding note. For Palladas see Alfonsi 1960, 255 and Dimundo 1998, 76-77. AP 12.20 and 12.194 respectively, for ephebes. An exhaustive survey in Sommariva 1996, 62-63. Sommariva 1996, 62-63. Min. Fel. Oct. 24.3 Iuppiter senuit… Minerva canuit… nulla huiusmodi fabulis praebetur adsensio. Min. Fel. Oct. 21.1. That this theme was not specifically Christian is proved by some clear traces found in Petronius’ contemporary Seneca (fr. 119 Haase = 93 Vottero). Cf. Iuv. 6.59. Petr. 126.18.4 canos… tuos. Petr. 126.18.2 fabula muta. Sommariva 1996, 63 correctly points out that this iunctura is an oxymoron recovering the original meaning of fabula. Cf. also Dimundo 1998, 77.

    Amorous Blasphemy (Petr. 126.18) As we saw, Petronius blends this topic with the Hellenistic poetic theme of Jupiter’s amorous renunciation. As far as we know, he is the first to do so; but the same blending reappears later on in another Christian writer: Clemens of Alexandria. Myths, says Clemens, have grown old.25 Zeus does not love any more, even though beauties are not wanting even today; just like in Petronius, he has grown old with the feathers of the swan of yore;26 or rather, the Christian writer adds, he is dead, as the mortal that he was. Quite possibly Clemens and Petronius may have drawn on an earlier common source, in which the theme of the god’s senility and that of his amorous renunciation were already amalgamated. In the light of the comparison with the two Christian writers we can understand the real import of Petronius’ poem: nobody believes in Jupiter’s fabula muta any more. The real Danae is the woman that not Jupiter, but Encolpius is about to make his own. Only in this connection, in my opinion, do some scholars’ statements27 about Encolpius claiming for himself a role equivalent, or even superior, to Jupiter’s acquire full significance. Interpretations explaining the hint at Jupiter’s gray hair as a parody of the elegiac theme equating the poet’s beloved with mythical beauties28 miss this key point completely. The Euhemeristic theme of the god’s “old age” and “death” takes an unexpected turn in Petronius through thinly veiled allusions to Jupiter’s sexual impotence.29 Only in the light of the “blasphemous” character of this poem, does the “nemesis”30 which will soon after affect Encolpius acquire full flavor and significance: it will be no mere retribution, but almost a Dantesque contrappasso: he will become as impotent as he had disparagingly described his gray-haired Jupiter. 2. V. 2 taces] Eduard Fraenkel’s correction iaces has been accepted by several scholars.31 Courtney and Sommariva defend it by emphasizing the hint at sexual impotence that could be easily read in iaces. But numerous pleonasms like fabula muta taces are attested,32 which make the correction unnecessary. V. 3 erat] In the meaning of oportebat.33 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

    Clem. Alex. protr. 2.37.1 Clem. Alex. protr. 2.37.3 Roncali 1986, 110; Slater 1990a, 124-125; Sommariva 1996, 64; Dimundo 1998, 79. So Adamietz 1995, 321. Petr. 126.18.1 proiectis… armis; 6 membra fluent. Cf. Courtney 1991, 30; Sommariva 1996, 63. See below for taces/iaces (v. 2). The term is Sommariva’s (Sommariva 1996, 65). In all of Müller’s editions and in Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995; also by Slater 1990a, 124; Courtney 1991, 30; Walsh 1996, 126; Sommariva 1996, 62-63. See the list in Housman 1926, 11 (on Lucan. 1.260). Cf. Leumann-Hofmann-Szantyr 1965, 349, also referred to by Courtney 1991, 30. 197

    Chapter XIII V. 5 Danae] The proposal34 to accept Daphne, given by some inferior manuscripts, on the grounds that Encolpius, like Apollo with Daphne, will not succeed in making Circe her own, is hardly convincing.35 V. 6 fluent] The image of the “melting” of Jupiter’s limbs undoubtedly hints at the rain of gold into which he transformed himself to make love to Danae;36 at the same time, however, the word contains a clear allusion to Jupiter’s enervated impotence as imagined by Encolpius.37

    34 35 36 37

    198

    Made by Borghini 1988; rightly rejected by Sommariva 1996, 63 n. 35. Cf. Yeh 2007, 84, who refers to Danae at 137.9.3-4. On this point see ch. XXII. Cf. e.g. [Sen.] Oct. 771-772 cui miranti / fulvo, Danae, fluxit in auro. Cf. TLL VI 2, 972, 19-22. According to Sommariva 1996, 65 n. 40 the reference is to Encolpius’ future impotence instead.

    Chapter XIV Homeric Love (Petr. 127.9)* Idaeo quales fudit de vertice flores terra parens, cum se concesso iunxit amori Iuppiter et toto concepit pectore flammas: emicuere rosae violaeque et molle cyperon, albaque de viridi riserunt lilia prato: talis humus Venerem molles clamavit in herbas, candidiorque dies secreto favit amori.

    5

    L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 1 qualis Hadrianides 2 concesso Samb.: confesso 6 cumulavit Courtney

    1. We have seen in the preceding chapter that the poem at 126.18 and this one, which comes shortly after, are related and complementary1 and are both part of a context which, though enclosed in the Circe episode which often takes the cue from the Odyssey,2 is modeled after a different Homeric scene: Hera’s and Zeus’ amorous encounter on mount Ida in the XIV book of the Iliad. The former poem remakes in its own way the catalog of the supreme god’s amorous conquests cited by Zeus himself in the Homeric episode, and turns it into a blasphemous address to the god, depicted as old and impotent and therefore unable, by now, to keep up with his old amorous exploits. Encolpius has no qualms about stating that the true Danae is the woman he is about to make his * 1 2

    A version of this chapter has appeared with the title La poesia in Petronio Sat. 127.9, “Prometheus” 25, 1999, 247-258. In both Jupiter is protagonist and both contain the theme of the amorous flame, which also appears in Circe’s words at 127.7, quoted in the next note. The reference to the Odyssey clearly surfaces even in the immediate context of our poem: 127.5 putares inter auras canere Sirenum concordiam; 127.7 nec sine causa Polyaenon Circe amat: semper inter haec nomina magna fax surgit.

    Chapter XIV own – which amounts to placing himself on a par with, or even above, the highest deity of ancient myth. It is hardly surprising, then, that the next poem should equate Encolpius’ and Circe’s amorous encounter with Zeus’ and Hera’s celebrated described in the Iliad.3 The first change that should not escape the reader’s attention concerns the meter. Whereas the poem at 126.18 is in elegiac couplets – which, rather than at erotic elegy,4 probably hint at epigram, a genre in which the theme of Zeus’ amorous renunciation repeatedly occurs5 –, here, at 127.9, we find the hexameter, the epic meter par excellence, and the whole composition is structured as a simile in perfect epic style, including a typically Homeric logical and syntactical expansion included in free coordination in the parabole, i.e. the first panel of the diptych making up the simile, the one describing a scene or situation which aims to add clearness and significance to the actual object of narration, which constitutes the second panel.6 A Homeric simile, then, except for the fact that, whereas in Homer similes often expand to include broad natural pictures in the parabole, in Petronius the object described in the corresponding panel is not taken from nature any more, but from literature, i.e. from the very Homeric model, cleverly made present to the reader’s mind by the content as well as by the literary technique our author employs. The literary and stylistic level of this poem is indeed consistently high, to the point that, should the verse be separated from the prose context, no parodic element or intention could be detected.7 It should also be emphasized that, although the connection with the situation being narrated can clearly be grasped in the two final verses, this very situation is sublimated in the poem, and raised to the level of an ecstatic and even religious experience far removed from any too immediate reference to the here and now – which is even linguistically emphasized through the lack of any first (and third) person pronouns, that would destroy the aura of epic transfiguration in which the narratorand-protagonist’s amorous experience appears to be steeped in this poem.8 3

    4 5 6

    7 8

    200

    The reference was already made by Petronius’ early interpreters. For times closer to ours, Collignon 1892, 319 may be regarded as the fountainhead. Conte 2003, 92 regards our verse as “the illusion of the mythomaniac narrator who feels himself to be a Jove seduced by a Juno”. Cf. already Barnes 1971, 229. A detailed comparison of our poem with the Homeric episode is found in Crogliano 2003a, 127-131. As believed, e.g., by Slater 1990a, 175. See preceding chapter. This is correctly emphasized by Stöcker 1969, 37 n. 2: “die Verbindung der Verse wäre der Sprachlogik nach ‘qualis terra… talis humus’, das Gleichnis ist aber wie ein homerisches durch die Verse 4 und 5 ausgemalt und ‘quales’ an ‘flores’ angeglichen, die wieder auf die Blumen in vv. 4 und 5 hinweisen sollen”. Cf. e.g. Slater 1990a, 174. Unlike the preceding poem, perhaps part of a silent monologue of Encolpius’ (see preceding chapter) developing into a blasphemous address to Jupiter, which directly en-

    Homeric Love (Petr. 127.9) Not surprisingly, this verse has been called “one of Latin literature’s great love poems”.9 Raith, who pronounced this judgment, correctly emphasizes the intentional contrast between the mythical and literary idealization conveyed by the verse and the base and sordid reality described in the prose context, and remarks that the downscaling of the divine to an all too human level only disturbs when the prose frame is kept in mind.10 Beck11 places our poem among those that, according to him, tend to represent the tendency to idealize of the character Encolpius at the moment the narrated episodes took place, to which Encolpius himself, as the narrator of the story, and therefore older and wiser, soberly opposes the shabbiness of reality in the prose frame.12 In this case his suggestion may be accepted, provided one keeps in mind that the two elements – the verse’s poetic idealization and the corresponding reduction to bare, unadorned, and “unpoetic” reality – are not separable, and constitute jointly conceived and intentionally joined panels of a refined literary play. Even if we admit that two successive stages of Encolpius’ psychological evolution can be grasped, surely Petronius presents them together, as the opposed and complementary components of a complex literary construction. 2. This premiss was necessary before a general interpretation of our poem, with its complex web of literary references lurking under a seeming simplicity, could be undertaken. The most prominent literary model is of course Homer, but the poem’s erotic peculiarity is also revealed by a clear allusion to a Catullan verse, which certainly refers to an erotic situation, but appears in Catullus’ poem 64, i.e in an epyllion, which, despite its Hellenistic and neoteric orientation, still maintains a solid connection with the epic genre.13 The sublimated literary character of our

    9 10 11 12

    13

    gages Encolpius by placing him in competition with the god, the verse at 127.9 offers a much less spirited ideal description, where idealization mainly stems from the representation of reality according to the punctiliously respected patterns of literary convention. Here the “degradation of the model” (see Fedeli 1988) can only be perceived through a comparison of the highly stylized verse with the prose context’s desecrating frame. Raith 1963, 15-16. Raith 1963, 16. See also Stöcker 1969, 39-40; Sommariva 1996, 65. Beck 1973, 58. As Beck 1973, 57-58 concedes in reference to other poems, in the prose frame itself the desecrating elements at times coexist with others in agreement with the poems’ idealized atmosphere. In the prose context of our poem we find only not the prosaic details concerning Circe’s toilet (128.1) pointed out by Beck, but, among other elements, the ecstatic appellative dea referred to the lady (and see the whole paragraph 127.5). Cf. Petr. 127.9.3 toto concepit pectore flammas ~ Catull. 64.92 cuncto concepit pectore flammas. Also Ov. met. 7.17 conceptas pectore flammas; Verg. Aen. 7.356 toto percepit pectore flammam, though in this case the reference is not erotic. The three passages are quoted by Courtney 1991, 31; for the first two cf. also Stubbe 1933, 177. It should be emphasized that in Catullus, Ovid, and Virgil the reference is always to a woman (to 201

    Chapter XIV poem is further emphasized by the allusion to a poetic genre of lofty solemnity: the cletic hymn. Petronius does not upset the epic and “Homeric” plan of the composition with the insertion of a direct invocation in the second person, but nevertheless, just like in Sappho’s first ode, the epiphany of the goddess of love is openly solicited, though in a different way.14 Not a few, among Petronius’ interpreters and translators, take Venerem (v. 3) to be a mere metonymy designating the joys of love.15 They do not realize that Venus’ personal presence in the context is expressly emphasized by the author, both in her capacity of presiding deity in the love scene being described – as proved by her temple in the place of Encolpius’ and Circe’s amorous tryst16 –, and as literary reference, in view of the role played by Aphrodite in the Homeric scene underlying the whole Petronian episode – as proved beyond doubt by Petronius’ literal translation of the Homeric passage describing Aphrodite untying her girdle of love with which Hera plans to seduce Zeus.17 In my opinion, then, there can be no doubt that, at line 6, the name of Venus primarily refers to the goddess herself,18 and that the verb clamavit figuratively attributes the place

    14

    15

    16 17

    18

    202

    Ariadne, Medea, and Amata respectively). The attribution to Jupiter in the Petronian poem is possibly meant as counterpoint to the reversal of the sexual roles we shall soon point out in the prose frame. Another Catullan allusion is possibly to be detected in Petronius’ last verse, where candidiorque dies secreto favit amori surely refers to a sky clear of clouds (see the apparatus of Bücheler 1862, 177, also for the dislocation of this verse in a part of the tradition, for which see additionally Müller 1961, 158-159; Courtney 1991, 31), maybe including a hint at the shining cloud of gold surrounding Zeus and Hera at Il. 14.350-351 (Connors 1998, 41), but very probably is not devoid of a psychological connotation, like in Catull. 8.3, 8 candidi… soles. Catullus’ presence in this context is confirmed beyond doubt in the immediately following prose (127.10 mille osculis lusimus, surely reminiscent of Catull. 5). The suggestion made here is new, but already Stöcker 1969, 36 remarked that in the preceding prose Encolpius describes Circe “in fast hymnischer Weise”. For a time closer to Petronius see Hor. c. 1.30 and cf. Nisbet-Hubbard 1970, 343-344. So e.g. Bücheler 1862, 177; Stubbe 1933, 177; Courtney 1970, 69; Courtney 1991, 31 (Courtney corrects clamavit to cumulavit: see below, text to notes 23-28); Canali 1990, 231; Aragosti 1995, 482; Reverdito 1995, 239; Walsh 1996, 128; Connors 1998, 41. Petr. 128.4 (Circe) excussit vexatam solo vestem raptimque aedem Veneris intravit – a passage we shall come back to. Petr. 131.4 illa de sinu licium protulit varii coloris filis intortum ~ Hom. Il. 14.214-215 / . This correspondence is rightly emphasized by Roncali 1986, 110. The “degradation of the model” is apparent in the transfer of the act from the goddess of love to an old, repulsive sorceress as well as of the girdle’s function from arousing the charm of love to prosaically restoring sexual potency. The detail appears shortly before Encolpius’ and Circe’s second tryst, the counterpart of the shortly preceding first one, the scene which contains our poem. As understood by Heseltine 1913, 283; Ernout 1923, 153; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 311; Slater 1990a, 174; Scarsi 1996, 219.

    Homeric Love (Petr. 127.9) of the amorous encounter the capability to draw forth the divine epiphany19 – an idea perfectly fitting the numerous hints bestowing a religious mood on the whole context.20 Transitive clamare, in the meaning of its Romance derivatives such as Italian “chiamare” or Spanish “llamar”, is not infrequent in poetry,21 although most of the times the verb’s original connotation survives in the implied notion of calling out loud. There is more: in Petronius himself, as well as elsewhere, the transitive use of the verb is referred to the invocation addressed to a deity.22 Courtney23 regards as problematic the caption expressing movement which accompanies the verb (molles… in herbas), though himself pointing out not merely late parallels,24 but one in Martial too.25 In view of this, as well as of the religious mood hinted at above, it is surely permissible, in my opinion, to pair our Petronian passage with a Virgilian verse in which the cletic invocation addressed to the deity is associated precisely with the clamor on the part of the suppliants.26 A second problem perceived by Courtney consists in the fact that the subject of clamavit is humus – a combination wich he regards as “simply grotesque”,27 to the point of suggesting a correction (cumulavit) which is frankly unsatisfactory and has not been accepted by anyone.28 But the seemingly inanimate humus of line 6 is one and the same with the personified terra parens of line 2, which, not unlike the in the corresponding Homeric episode,29 is itself a divine entity actively favoring the lovers’ erotic encounter by causing the growth of herbs and flowers to serve as their couch. To regard as grotesque the ascription to this humus of the evocative power and capability to attract the goddess of 19 20 21 22

    23 24 25 26 27 28 29

    Just as the locus amoenus of the lovers’ second tryist is dignus amore (131.8.6). See ch. XVI. Both in the words of Encolpius (as character and as narrator) and of Circe herself: 127.3 cultores… religiosum… adorari… templum Amoris; 127.5 deae; 127.6 caelo… deus. Cf. Bömer 1969, 513 (ad Ov. met. 3.244); Citroni 1975, 168-169 (ad Mart. 1.49.29-30); and see TLL III 1253, 31-73. Petr. 58.5 licet mehercules Iovem Olympium clames (at 60.8 pateram vini circumferens ‘dii propitii’ clamabat the verb probably simply means “shouted”); Val. Fl. 4.411 Ditis opem ac saevi clamantem numina regni. Courtney 1970, 69; Courtney 1991, 131. To the passages quoted by Courtney we may add Cod. Iust. 7.40.3.3 in iudicium clamaverit. Mart. 1.49.30 conviva clamatus prope. See also above, note 21. Verg. georg. 1.347 et Cererem clamore vocent in tecta. Courtney 1970, 69. He then should also regard as grotesque Verg. ecl. 1.38-39 ipsae te, Tityre, pinus, / ipsi te fontes, ipsa haec arbusta vocabant. The correction proposed by Watt 1994, 255 (venerem molli stimulavit in herba) is more implausible still. Hom. Il. 14.347. See below, note 33. 203

    Chapter XIV love exposes the failure to grasp its poetic transfiguration fostered as well as disclosed by the tight web of literary references we have tried to elucidate.30 Actually, this transfiguration allows Petronius to recover a previously neglected detail of the Homeric description: the hint at the earth causing to grow not merely flowers, but grass too (talis humus Venerem molles clamavit in herbas). In Petronius the presence of grass was suggested as a colorful background in the poem31 and, immediately before and after the verse, as the variegated couch onto which Circe draws Encolpius;32 but it disappeared in favor of the flowers in the hint at the Homeric description of the earth’s miraculous fecundity at the moment of the divine nuptials. In this part of the poem, besides the disappearance of grass, the difference in Petronius’ and Homer’s33 flower lists is a further striking detail: there are roses, violets, galingale, and lilies in Petronius, grass, lotus, crocus, and hyacinth in Homer. Slater34 speaks of a “luxuriant depiction of nature” in Petronius’ verse, moving the poem away from epic toward the equally hexametric, but thoroughly unepic, world of pastoral. He seems not to take into consideration that Petronius’ flowers are found not in nature, but in gardens: the unspoiled mountain locale of Zeus’ and Hera’s lovemaking is implicitly equated with the wholly artificial setting of Encolpius’ and Circe’s encounter, which takes place in the latter’s private park, ornamented with meadows, groves, promenades, and shrines. Roses, violets, and lilies are indeed the typical flowers of Roman gardens35 and are mentioned together in a passage of Ovid’s Ars amatoria, where they are chosen

    30

    31 32 33 34 35

    204

    Long before Courtney clamavit had perplexed some of the early Petronian interpreters. Among the corrections listed by Burman 1743, I, 790 the only any deserving any attention is clinavit, accepted by Lipsius and others. Except for the insurmountable linguistic difficulty (for clinare see TLL III 1349, 52-62), the idea of “causing to recline” would hardly be out of place in this context. Nevertheless, as we shall see, it is in its proper place in the realistic prose frame, not in the idealized poetic description. In addition, in the prose Circe (who with this correction should necessarily be identified with Venerem as the object of clinavit: cf. Burman 1743, I, 790), far from being caused to recline, causes Encolpius to do so (127.8). Cf. below. Petr. 127.9.5 albaque de viridi riserunt lilia prato. Petr. 127. 8 deduxit in terram vario gramine indutam; 127.10 in hoc gramine pariter compositi. Hom. Il. 14.347-349 / / Slater 1990a, 175. Reservations in Sommariva 1996, 65 n. 39. See Stöcker 1969, 38 and n. 1, with the bibliography. According to Plaza 2000, 196 the white lilies symbolize Circe herself (she is whiter than marble: 126.17), and their “laugh” (riserunt, v. 5) reminds of her smile (127.1).

    Homeric Love (Petr. 127.9) to symbolize the fleeting beauty of all flowers.36 It is highly probable that in Petronius’ poem too these flowers fulfill the same antonomastical function. It should not escape us, however, that roses and violets were sacred to Venus,37 whereas lilies were sacred to Juno:38 Petronius’ flowers represent both the goddess of love, who is the preeminent divine presence in the whole context and whose epiphany will be invoked immediately after, and Jupiter’s bride, the protagonist of the Homeric episode underlying this scene, to whom our poem explicitly alludes.39 Besides these three flowers our poem also mentions the “flexible galingale”, a sort of aromatic sedge, whose presence here is remarkable, in that it appears to be mentioned nowhere else in Latin poetry.40 As shrewdly remarked by Stöcker,41 Petronius probably had Theocritus’ first Idyll in mind, in which Daphnis, resorting to a pun involving the name of the plant – – and one of Aphrodite’s appellatives – –, urges the goddess to betake herself to her lover Anchises, on mount Ida, where oaks and galingale grow.42 The correspondence of the location (mount Ida), the presence of the same plant, and – last but not least – the ‘cletic’ prompting to proceed to the location of her amorous encounter43 make it all but certain that Petronius was influenced by Theocritus and explain the mention of galingale44 in our poem, a plant surely to be connected with Venus/Aphrodite, as roses and violets are. This explanation is all the more satisfactory in view of the fact that galingale is missing even in po-

    36

    37 38 39

    40 41 42 43 44

    Ov. ars 2.115-116 nec violae semper nec hiantia lilia florent, / et riget amissa spina relicta rosa. The passage is quoted by Roncali 1986, 108. Roses, violets, and lilies also appear, with the same symbolism as in Ovid, in Theocr. 23.28-30 (but the last verse, about lilies, is commomnly regarded as spurious). See Wiesner 1965b; Wiesner 1965c. And loathed by Venus: see Wiesner 1965a. Petr. 127.9.2 concesso… amori. Concesso is a sure correction of the manuscripts’ confesso. It must certainly be understood as “permitted, i.e. legitimate love”, in that Juno was Jupiter’s wife (cf. cons. Liv. 305; Ciris 244; Cic. Tusc. 4.70; see also Petr. fr. 48.8 Müller licito fusa puella toro), not in the sense that she “concedes herself” to Jupiter, as done by Heseltine 1913, 283 and Walsh 1996, 127. See TLL IV 1592, 68-1593, 11. Stöcker 1969, 38-39. Cf. also Courtney 1991, 31, and Connors 1998, 42 (who ignores Stöcker). Theocr. 1.105-106 ! # " / ! $ % (cf. 5.45 & ). Even though Daphnis’ tone in the Idyll is mocking, closer to scoptic poetry than to a devotional cletic hymn. Roncali 1986, 108 remarks that roses and lilies follow the galingale in botanical description such as the one in Plin. NH 21.117-131 (which is medical, not poetical in character). 205

    Chapter XIV etical catalogs mixing the flowers of the Homeric passage with those that will appear in Petronius.45 The influence of pastoral poetry perceived by Slater in the alleged description of luxuriant nature can then be grasped, if at all, through a learned literary allusion. When this is understood, we will be able to agree with his remark about the poem moving away from its formal connection with epic. We have already emphasized its nod to the cletic hymn; and now we recognize a learned allusion to the pastoral genre.46 Nevertheless, if I am not mistaken, Petronius, though moving away from the Homeric mode, preserves a link with it, that the learned reader was able to grasp and appreciate, precisely through the mention of the galingale. Galingale appears only twice in Homer, in both cases at the end of a line, like in Theocritus and Petronius. He uses the neuter form like in Petronius (Theocritus uses the masculine ), and – more important – it is always joined with the mention of lotus.47 Galingale would then remind a reader familiar with Homer of lotus, which, after grass, was the first plant mentioned in the episode of Zeus’ and 48 – and through it of the Homeric episode itself. Hera’s 3. We have remarked above that this poem, formally respecting the patterns and style of high literature, can only be appreciated in its real import by comparing it with the prose context. Immediately before the verse two details of the prose narration clearly suppose the same Homeric scene underlying the poem, but, as several scholars have pointed out,49 the sexual roles are neatly reversed. In Homer too the initiative is 45

    46

    47 48 49

    206

    Cf. e.g. [Hom.] hymn. in Dem. 6-8 (among other flowers, crocus and hyacinth on the one hand, roses and violets on the other); Mosch. 2.65-71 (among others, hyacynth and crocus on the one hand, violets and roses on the other). For many further catalogs of flowers see Bühler 1960, 110. Roses and violets are flowers by antonomasia in Greek poetry too, ever since Sapph. 94.11-12 Voigt. The lack of roses in the Homeric episode had not gone unnoticed in antiquity: Schol. bT ad Il. 14.347, III 647, 89-90 Erbse ' ; Philostr. ep. erot. 20 ( $ … ) ) * . Cf. Connors 1998, 42; Roncali 1986, 109 and n. 9. In Philostratus’ letter we find the motif we have encountered in Petronius too: the lover equating himself with Zeus: ) ) ) * Even though the nature of the poem, and the whole context, as a complex literary construction is quite evident, still taking compositi at 127.10 as a pun referring to literary “composition”, as done by Connors 1998, 41 and Rimell 2002, 146, seems to go way beyond the mark. Hom. Il. 21.351 ; Od. 4.603 & +" Hom. Il. 14.348; cf. above, note 33. Cf. e.g. Stöcker 1969, 37; Roncali 1986, 109; Fedeli 1988, 76.

    Homeric Love (Petr. 127.9) really taken by the female partner; but formally the gender roles are respected. It is Zeus who reassures Hera, who feigns a fear of prying eyes;50 and it is still the god who takes in his arms a seemingly bashful Hera.51 In Petronius, by contrast, it is the woman who acts like Zeus in both cases.52 Within the frame of this specular reversal, the Homeric structure remains totally unchanged, down to the formal occurrence of the two themes in direct speech and in third-person narration respectively, and even to the “epic” formula of transition from the former to the latter – which is mockingly reproduced elsewhere too in Petronius53 –, obviously with the shift of the subject of the verbum dicendi from the male to the female partner.54 A third, comparable reversal should probably be assumed in the allusion to Zeus’ and Leda’s mythical lovemaking that may be detected in the description of Circe embracing Encolpius with arms that are “softer than feathers”.55 Homer’s Zeus does not mention Leda in the catalog of his amorous conquests in the XIV book of the Iliad; she, however, appears in Petronius’ preceding poem, ushering in the blasphemous depiction of a Jupiter with gray hair concealed by the swan’s feathers and no more capable of erotic feats.56 Here it is the woman, not the male partner, who is metaphorically turned into a swan, like Jupiter did one time. Encolpius who, in the previous poem, thought he could take the supreme god’s place, is now reduced to a passive role, preluding to impotence, the “Dantesque contrappasso” which will soon affect him, possibly as retribution for his abusive remarks about an allegedly old and effete Jupiter. If our verse is preceded by these hints foreshadowing the final denouement, which the reader is able to recognize as such only ofter the perusal of the whole episode,57 one such foreshadowing hint (which can also be detected at the end) is contained in the poem itself. The earth not merely favors Encolpius’ and Circe’s lovemaking, but invokes the epiphany of Venus on their behalf. Venus 50 51 52

    53 54 55

    56 57

    Hom. Il. 14.342-343 ! , / " Hom. Il. 14.346 ', " . Petr. 127.7 ‘sume ergo amplexum, si placet. Neque est quod curiosum aliquem extimescas: longe ab hoc loco frater est’. 8 Dixit haec Circe, implicitumque me bracchiis mollioribus pluma deduxit in terram vario gramine indutam. Petr. 109.1 haec ut turbato clamore mulier effudit, immediately after Tryphaena’s “epic” speech in verse at 108.14. See ch. XI. In Homer ' … ; in Petronius dixit haec Circe. The allusion to the myth of Leda is correctly pointed out by Roncali 1986, 109-110, despite the proverbial flavor of the comparison with feathers. In my opinion, however, Roncali is mistaken when she asserts that Petronius plays the same role with Circe as Zeus with Leda. Quite the opposite: see above, in the text. Petr. 126.18.4: see ch. XI. Cf also 138.6. Connors 1998, 42-43 sees in Encolpius’ impotence an allusion to the danger Ulysses avoids in his encounter with Circe in the Odyssey: thanks to Hermes’ protection the hero will not become (Hom. Od. 10.301, 342). This is possible, but even so the reader would detect the Homeric allusion only after the episode’s final denouement. 207

    Chapter XIV however, with a cleverley contrived , conspicuously refrains from making her presence felt, as proved beyond doubt by Encolpius’ impotence. It will be Circe who, after Encolpius’ failure, will enter her shine, not before obliterating the traces of a tryst gone awry.58 The theme will be picked up, without a direct allusion to Venus, in the poem at 131.8, where the dignus amore locus will prove to be anything but favorable to love.59 It is worthwhile to dwell a little more on the reversal of the sexual roles immediately preceding our poem, in order to point out that this reversal is joined with the hint at a literary model whose type and atmoshere are far removed from Homeric poetry. First of all emphasis should be laid on the fact that Circe, playing the role usually allocated to the male partner, performs a very concrete and practical erotic act, which not by chance is not found in Homer. In the Iliad Zeus takes Hera “in his arms”,60 and immediately after the verses suggest, rather than describe, the two deities lying on the flowers and concealed by a golden cloud. Circe, by contrast, is openly represented not only as she takes Encolpius in her own swan-like arms but also as she lays down her lover on the grass.61 It is hardly possible not to think of Archilochus’ famous Cologne epode, which, though clearly alluding to the same Homeric episode,62 describes a much less idealized and much more down-to-earth love scene. Unlike Homer, Archilochus recounts a personal experience; he resorts to the first person, as Encolpius does in the Satyrica. In the latter’s prose describing Circe’s act we found the first person pronoun me, whereas the immediately following verse is suspended in an idealized atmosphere reminiscent of epic and the epyllion, and closer to sublimated contemplation than to personal experience. Just like Petronius’ prose, Archilochus too, after introducing a variation of the epic transitional formula signaling the passage from direct speech to narration, and describing the gesture of embracing the partner, adds the non-Homeric act of laying her down on the flowery meadow.63 58 59 60 61 62 63

    208

    Petr. 128.4 excussit vexatam solo vestem raptimque aedem Veneris intravit (cf. above, note 16). Cf. Stöcker 1969, 42, and see ch. XVI. Hom. Il. 14.346: above, note 51. Petr. 127.8: above, note 52. Cf. Bossi 1973-1974, 14-15. It should be added that the scene described by Archilochus possibly took place in Hera’s sacred enclosure: see Merkelbach-West 1974, 102. Archil. 196a (PColon 7511). 42-44 West ] % " [ / ] / " . Besides the description of the flowery meadow, there are more correspondences among the three texts: 1) Hom. ' ~ Archil. [ ~ Petr. dixit haec Circe; 2) Hom. " ~ Archil. ~ Petr. implicitumque me bracchiis. The third correspondence concerns only Archilochus and Petronius: " ~ deduxit in terram. Archilochus’ Homeric allusion continues in the following verses in the act of hiding the girl with his cloak, reminiscent of Homer’s

    Homeric Love (Petr. 127.9) Despite its manifest linguistic unsuitableness, then, the early Petronian critics’ correction clinavit for clamavit mentioned above was not totally devoid of plausibility;64 but what we have been saying clearly shows that this detail fitted the prose description, not the idealized hexameter verse. Circe’s act, then, amounts to a clear literary hint, and at the same time symbolizes the two characters’ different attitude and reaction to the same situation. As correctly remarked by Fedeli,65 Circe matter-of-factly urges Encolpius to make love to her (sume ergo amplexum), in opposition to his ecstatic and dreamy attitude – a serious threat to end up drawing a blank. Even before Encolpius begins his sublimated “Homeric” poem, in her action (once more reversing the sexual roles) she appears to follow a very different “model”, namely Archilochus’ epode, in which the poet of Paros had no qualms about lowering the epic gods’ idealized lovemaking to the level of his own experience of down-toearth and unbridled seducer.

    64

    65

    concealing cloud. In Petronius, who sets the scene in Circe’s private park, her love for Encolpius is secretus even in full daylight. The addition of the Archilochean trait ( " ) to the elements of the Homeric scene can perhaps be recognized (though the act is performed by the woman of her own accord) also in the Lydia, transmitted by the Appendix Vergiliana with the Dirae, unfortunately in a severely mangled passage (I adopt the text by Clausen-Goodyear-KenneyRichmond and keep the continuous verse numeration): 116-118 aut inter varios, Veneris stipendia, flores / membra reclinarit teneramque illiserit herbam / et secreta meos furtim narrabit amores. Cf. 166-171 (where there is probably a lacuna in the text). This passage clearly alludes to Il. 14, though Juno is not Jupiter’s concessus amor, in that the two are not married yet; but this very detail may be reminiscent of Homer (Il. 14.295296). Fedeli 1988, 76. 209

    Chapter XV A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6)* 128.5 Ego contra damnatus et quasi quodam visu in horrorem perductus interrogare animum meum coepi, an vera voluptate fraudatus essem: 6

    nocte soporifera veluti cum somnia ludunt errantes oculos effossaque protulit aurum in lucem tellus: versat manus improba furtum thesaurosque rapit; sudor quoque perluit ora et mentem timor altus habet, ne forte gravatum excutiat gremium secreti conscius auri: mox ubi fugerunt elusam gaudia mentem veraque forma redit, animus quod perdidit optat atque in praeterita se totus imagine versat.

    5

    128.6 L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 1 veluti cum LO: si quando 4 proluit R ora LO: artus : hunc versum quasi ex 124.292 et 120.97 conflatum seclusit Bücheler, praeeunte Wehle

    1. The first problem posed by this verse concerns its authenticity, which was in fact denied by Wehle,1 whose arguments convinced the great XIX century editor of Petronius, Franz Bücheler.2 Wehle based his opinion on alleged imperfection

    * 1 2

    A version of this chapter has appeared as the main part of La poesia in Petr. Sat. 128,6 (con una postilla su 132,15), “Invigilata Lucernis” 21, 1999, 399-416 (pp. 399-412). Wehle 1861, 53-56. Bücheler 1862, 178: “hoc carmen… Petronii nomen ementiri persuasit mihi Wehlius p. 53 ss.”.

    Chapter XV and awkwardness of form3 and on the occurrence in our poem of expressions appearing in other Petronian poetic compositions.4 This cannot be denied, but, as we shall see, far from suggesting that these lines are interpolated, rather bears witness to their authenticity. Today this is accepted by almost everybody5 and will be reaffirmed by our analysis too, which will endeavor to point out the tight links connecting this verse with the preceding prose.6 Much more dangerous, in the sense that it prevents all possibility to interpret our verse correctly, is a different opinion, which has been accepted down to recent times even by some authoritative Petronian scholars,7 namely that the poem 3

    4

    5 6

    7

    212

    Concretely the repetitions of mens (vv. 5; 7), aurum (2; 6), versat (3; 9), cf. ludunt (1) and elusam (7) (for these cf. Barnes 1971, 231); the contrived variation aurum – furtum – thesauros (2-4); the plural thesauros (4); forma not accompanied by rerum (8: we shall see that vera forma possibly picks up 80.9.8 vera… facies); the perfect protuli (2), whereas the other verbs are in the present (but protulit clearly expresses the effect in the present of something which has taken place in the past). When Wehle criticizes the inconsistent use of copulative particles, he does not realize that this poem is the parabole of a simile with some clauses in free coordination, following the Homeric technique already employed in the previous poem, 127.9. See ch. XIV, and below, note 22. At Petr. 128.6.2-3 protulit aurum / in lucem tellus reminds one of 120.98-99 tellus / extulit in lucem… fruges; at v. 4 thesaurosque rapit sudor quoque perluit ora (artus ) is close to 120.96-97 iam pridem nullo perfundimus ora cruore / nec mea Tisiphone sitientes perluit artus and 120.292 thesaurosque rapis. Besides these correspondences with the Bellum civile (which are indeed at their proper place in a poem being presented as the parabole of an epic simile), Wehle also lays emphasis on the links connecting this composition with the lines at 80.9.5-8, which, it should be added, are part of a poem connected with ours by numerous similarities: see ch. VIII and below). The correspondences between our poem and Petr. fr. 30 Bücheler (= 43 Müller) impel Wehle to deny the authenticity of both. These similarities have been pointed out by all interpreters (cf. e.g. Stubbe 1933, 178; Courtney 1991, 32) and amount to no clue against authenticity. Cf., e.g., the similarity between a fragment and a surely authentic poem: Petr. 132.15.2-3 novae simplicitatis opus? / Sermonis puri non tristis gratia ridet ~ fr. 41.3-4 Müller sermonis gratia, risus / vincunt naturae candidioris opus. Yeh 2007, 87-88 pairs our poem not only with fr. 43 Müller, but also with fr. 42 Müller. Wehle’s thesis was effectively refuted by Stubbe 1933, 178. A problem in itself is posed by v. 4, which Bücheler (followed by Müller, though not in Müller-Ehlers 1983, 312) already regarded as interpolated and placed within brackets, both for the double consonance with the Bellum civile (see above, note 4) and because of quoque (v. 4) devoid of an explicit correlation (and for this reason regarded as suspect also by Courtney 1991, 32). But epic mannerisms are not unexpected in this poem, and as for quoque, it is possible, in my opinion, to apply to Petronius what Wehle 1861, 55 refers to the interpolator, who in this way, allegedly, “sententiam illam ‘sudor perluit ora’ cum eis quae antecedunt… haud incommode sibi coniunxisse visus est”. E.g. Courtney 1991, 32: “the poem is presumably incomplete”; Walsh 1996, 129 places a series of dots at the end of the poem. Possibly this idea has been suggested by Burman 1743, I, 795, who places three asterisks after the last word of the last verse, although he says nothing on the matter in the commentary.

    A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6) is incomplete. In fact nearly all editors place a full stop immediately before the poem, at the end of paragraph 5 (after fraudatus essem); and, by doing so, deprive the verse of a main verb. The only important edition adopting what in my opinion is the correct punctuation (a colon before the beginning of the poem)8 is Bücheler’s first,9 although he adopted the full stop in his later editions. In reality, as already hinted, our whole poem, with the prose sentence preceding it, forms an “epic” simile of a type well-known and widespread in Latin poetry: the type which illustrates the narrated situation through an image following it, which is introduced, and at the same time connected with what precedes, by the comparative particle velut(i) accompanied by a temporal connective such as cum, ubi, (si) quando and the like, thus reversing the usual order found in Greek epic, as it is immediately perceptible in the numerous cases in which the model followed by these Latin similes can be identified.10 The comparison with the dream (i.e. the parabole of the simile) is the only part poetically developed by Petronius, but this image is undoubtedly prompted by the preceding prose, which already contains a clear hint at dreams and dreaming:11 Encolpius, abruptly deserted by Circe, wonders if, by any chance, he has not dreamed: an vera voluptate fraudatus essem; “truth” (i.e. reality) is the state of being awake, as opposed to dream.12 The repetition at the end of the poem (v. 8 veraque forma)13 amounts to an explicit link with the protagonist’s plight and mood, suggested rather than described in the prose,14 which, far from providing 8 9 10 11 12

    13 14

    A colon before the poem is also in the translation of Walsh 1996, 128, and in that of Ernout 1923, 154, though he places a full stop at this point in the text. Bücheler 1862, 178. See below, § 2. Sochatoff 1969-1970, 343 remarks that “the blending of prose and poetry… is rendered well nigh perfect by the insertion of the extended image”. This is undoubtedly the meaning of this Petronian expression, as already understood by Burman 1743, I, 794-795: “coitu, quo vero frui potuissem, non in somnio illam amplecti”. Nevertheless, the scholars who have not grasped the predicative meaning of vera are numerous: e.g. Heseltine 1913, 285: “whether I was cheated of my true delight”; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 313: “ob ich nicht um den Inbegriff der Lust betrogen sei”; Reverdito 1995, 241: “se non ero stato defraudato del vero piacere”. Beck 1973, 59 n. 19 and Di Simone 1993, 98 n. 20 correctly warn against interpretations of this type. Emphasized also by Courtney 1991, 31-32. For the opposition dream/reality expressed with verus see also Ov. her. 13.106; 19.15 (quoted by Kragelund 1989, 98 n. 29). Beck 1973, 59 poses the problem of whether these lines are to be taken as the reflection of Encolpius as an acting character in the specific situation or amount to an a posteriori “reconstruction” by Encolpius in his capacity of narrator. The question cannot even be correctly formulated without clarifying the poem’s syntactical relation to the preceding prose. According to our interpretation, the verse belongs in the same level as the prose narration, to which it is inseparbly linked by syntax. It seems therefore preferable to connect it with Encolpius’ attitude in the situation narrated in the prose, since it illustrates his psychological reaction at the moment through a comparison meant to shed 213

    Chapter XV a pretext for an inepta interpolatio, as Wehle believed, gains its own natural conclusion precisely in and from the poem. Therefore, although in what is left of the Satyrica there is surely one poem which has been transmitted incomplete,15 we may be reasonably certain that ours has come down to us in its entirety. The fact that this interpretation supposes a syntactical link between prose and verse poses no problem. The same happens with certainty in several cases.16 Once, actually, the poem is the parabole of an “epic” simile following and clarifying the situation described in the prose narrative, and there too some scholars have mistakenly regarded the poem as incomplete.17 Another time the syntactical link with the prose is none other than the verbum dicendi, belonging in the prose narrative, but inserted in the “epic” verse speech uttered by Tryphaena.18 And there the vicissitudes of transmission have determined a phenomenon that is clearly paralleled in the case of our poem and amounts to a momentous clue pointing to its integrity. As we have seen in a previous chapter, the first line of Tryphaena’s speech is quoted by Isidore of Seville with several other texts by the great writers of Rome. In order to give the line a meaning in itself, he changes the text by suppressing the verbum dicendi which links the verse speech to the prose and replaces it with a solemn vocative, which allows him to quote the opening line of Petronius’ poem as a perfectly autonomous text.19 Something very similar has happened with our poem too. When it was excerpted to become part of the Florilegium Gallicum ( ), completely detached from its context and as a self-standing composition, the opening verse had to be changed to make it possible. After Bücheler’s first edition the reading si quando given by at line 1 in lieu of veluti cum of the rest of tradition has inexplicably disappeared from the main editions’ critical apparatuses,20 although all witnesses agree.21 This read-

    15 16

    17

    18 19 20

    21

    214

    light on it; but it is not a “reflection” (an “aside”) of the character Encolpius, inasmuch as it continues and amplifies with no interruption the depiction of the situation already begun in the prose. Once more, literary technique (the resort to an “epic” simile) prevails over the consistent sketching of the character’s evolution. I am referring to Petr. 15.9. See ch. III. E.g. at 132.11 (the Virgilian cento); also at 108.14 and 136.6, to which we shall presently come back. Strictly connected with the prose narrative, though not syntactically linked with it, are 132.8 and 135.8. I am referring to Petr. 136.6, a solemn “epic” comparison syntactically linked to the preceding prose. According to Courtney 1991, 42, for example, “the poem may well be incomplete”. See ch. XXI. Petr. 108.14. See ch. XI. In this case too the influence of epic extends to the prose. Isid. orig. 2.21.9. Petronius’ ‘quis furor’ exclamat ‘pacem convertit in arma?’ becomes quis furor, o cives, pacem convertit in arma? See ch. XI. Although most editors register artus given by in lieu of ora at line 4. So also Courtney 1991, 31. One exception is the edition of Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950 (who only know the Nostradamensis). See Hamacher 1975, 138.

    A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6) ing should be carefully recorded instead, since it clearly shows that the author of the collection took care to suppress the comparative link between the preceding prose and our poem, in order to present the verse as an autonomous composition – which very probably amounts to a confirmation of the fact that a text fuller than the one given by LO, in which the poem functioned as syntactically detached from the prose, never existed. With the correction introduced in the clauses containing the verbs versat, rapit, perluit, habet (vv. 3-5) all become main clauses, whereas in the fuller text offered by LO, with veluti cum in the first line providing a comparative link with the prose, they belong in a freely coordinated clause following the technique of the Homeric simile.22 It is interesting to compare the punctuation adopted by the editor of the Florilegium Gallicum with that of Petronius’ editors, although in several cases translations suppose the former (and so the syntactical structure the poem has received in the adaptation), even when they are accompanied by a text adopting the latter.23 2. The simile made up by our verse (the parabole) in conjunction with the preceding prose (the antapodosis) is structered, as already hinted, according to a pattern well-known and widespread in Latin poetry, with the parabole introduced by velu(i) cum or a similar expression and the reversal of the order of the two components normally found in Greek epic. We cannot be sure that it already appeared in Ennius, since in an instance that might have been of interest only the comparison (parabole) is preserved, so that we do not know whether the narrated situation it referred to preceded or followed; besides, the fragmentary condition of the text makes it difficult to grasp the exact syntactical relations.24 Certainly, however, several similes structured exactly like our Petronian one are 22

    23

    24

    As Wehle 1861, 55 has not perceived this “Homeric” technique (indeed, on pp. 53-54 he adopts a punctuation valid only for the text as given by : cf. following note), he regards syntactical coordination in the poem as inconsistent and defective. Hamacher 1975, 138 (writing si quando at line 1) correctly places a comma at v. 3, after tellus, and full stop at the end of v. 6. But Petronius’ editors, who write veluti cum at line 1, usually place a colon in both places. In the translation (but not in the text) Hamacher’s puntuation is adopted e.g. by Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 131; Reverdito 1995, 241; Scarsi 1996, 221. Enn. ann. 332-334 Sk. veluti, [si] quando vinclis venatica velox / apta dolet si forte ex nare sagaci / sensit, voce sua nictit ululatque ibi acute. It is impossible to determine whether the clause introduced by quando is governed by nictit ululatque or this verbs are freely coordinated in “Homeric” fashion to illustrate and develop dolet – in which case veluti quando would be solidly connected like Petronius’ veluti cum. It is certain, at any rate, that this Ennian passage has influenced an extended Virgilian simile (Aen. 12.746-757) structured exactly like Petronius’ (see following note). This is pointed out also by Skutsch 1985, 507-508, although he believes (p. 509) ibi (v. 334) to mark a syntactical connection with the preceding si… sensit. In Enn. ann. 79 Sk. quom surely introduces a clause governed by that introduced by veluti. 215

    Chapter XV found in Virgil.25 The comparison with the obvious Greek models makes it clear that he has reversed the order, placing the narrated scene or situation before the image meant to illustrate it.26 The comparison with our Petronian simile may be extended to the numerous ones, in Virgil and other Roman epic poets, in which the parabole is introduced with ac velut(i) cum (or other temporal connective), when the narrated situation prompting the simile does not follow (which would, or at least could, entail the usual copulative function of ac), but precedes it, causing the clause introduced by ac veluti seemingly to hang in the air. In fact not a few scholars explain these instances as due to the unfinished state of the poem27 or to poetic impetus preventig syntactical consistency,28 or to expressive concentration.29 In reality, however, Norden30 had already correctly pointed out that this is a pleonasm of a type occurring since the archaic period31 and simply due to the fact that any comparison is originally nothing but parataxis. In late poetry ac velut is sometimes used as a simple velut, even without the light syntactical break produced in Virgil by the passage to an elaborate sim25

    26 27 28 29 30 31

    216

    Verg. Aen. 2.302-308 excutior somno et summi fastigia tecti / ascensu supero atque arrectis auribus adsto: / in segetem veluti cum flamma furentibus austris / incidit aut rapidus montano flumine torrens / sternit agros, sternit sata laeta boumque labores / praecipitisque trahit silvas; stupet inscius alto / accipiens sonitum saxi de vertice pastor; 7.460-466 arma amens fremit, arma toro tectisque requirit; / saevit amor ferri et scelerata insania belli, / ira super: magno veluti cum flamma sonore / virgea suggeritur costis undantis aëni / exultantque aestu latices, furit intus aquai / fumidus atque alte spumis exuberat amnis, / nec se iam capit unda, volat vapor ater ad auras; 12.746-757 nec minus Aeneas, quamquam tardata sagitta / interdum genua impediunt cursumque recusant, / insequitur trepidique pedem pede fervidus urguet: / inclusum veluti si quando flumine nanctus / cervom aut puniceae saeptum formidine pinnae / venator cursu canis et latratibus instat; / ille autem insidiis et ripa territus alta / mille fugit refugitque vias, at vividus Umber / haeret hians, iam iamque tenet similisque tenenti / increpuit malis morsuque elusus inani est; / tum vero exoritur clamor ripaeque lacusque / responsant circa et caelum tonat omne tumultu. The ample use of free coordination and the insertion of the comparative particle in the interior of a line (both also occurring in Petronius) should be emphasized. Veluti cum is placed in the interior of o verse also at Aen. 9.433-437 and 12.101-106, two similes structured in the same way, but without the use of free coordination. Verg. Aen. 2.302-308 reverses Hom. Il. 4.452-456; the same is true for Aen. 7.460-466 ~ Il. 21.362-365 and Aen. 12.746-757 ~ Il. 10.360-364 (and 22.189-193). So Austin 1964, 240 (on Verg. Aen. 2.626). So Pease 1935, 340 (on Verg. Aen. 4.402). So Austin 1977, 218 (on Verg. Aen. 6.707, taking ac velut to mean “and the scene was like what happens…”). Norden 19574, 307 (on Verg. Aen. 6.707). Norden quotes Plaut. Cas. 860-861 nec fallaciam astutiorem ullus fecit / poeta, atque ut haec est fabre facta a nobis. Cf. also Amph. 1019 pariter hoc fit atque ut alia facta sunt.

    A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6) ile meant to illustrate the narrated situation.32 We are justified, then, in comparing Petronius’ text with epic similes of this type too. In Virgil there are at least three, each using the Homeric technique of free coordination;33 the two more elaborate ones follow two Greek models – Homer and Apollonius of Rhodes –, once more reversing the order found in Greek by having the narrated scene precede the image meant to illustrate it through the comparison.34 Both patterns – with velut(i) cum and with ac velut(i) cum or other temporal connective – reappear in post-Virgilian epic, which proves that both were perceived as classic in Latin poetry. Instances may be pointed out in Valerius Flaccus, Statius, and Silius Italicus.35 There is more: an instance (with ac velut… 32

    33

    34

    35

    Löfstedt 1908, 106-107 quotes Ennod. carm. 2.78.3-6 successoris ope spoliati viscera regni / creverunt merito temporis alterius, / ac velut annosam zephyris parcentibus ornum, / ne metuat bellum, longa quies solidat; Sedul. carm. Pasch. 3.160 ff. ite, ait, et tristes morborum excludite pestes / … / functaque subductae revocate cadavera vitae / … / ac velut hoc dicens: ego vobis quippe ministris / servandos committo greges. Verg. Aen. 2.624-631 tunc vero omne mihi visum considere in ignis / Ilium et ex imo verti Neptunia Troia: / ac veluti summis antiquam in montibus ornum / cum ferro accisam crebrisque bipennibus instant / eruere agricolae certatim, illa usque minatur / et tremefacta comam concusso vertice nutat, / volneribus donec paulatim evicta supremum / congemuit traxitque iugis avolsa ruinam; 4.401-407 migrantis cernas totaque ex urbe ruentis: / ac velut ingentem formicae farris acervom / cum populant hiemis memores tectoque reponunt, / it nigrum campis agmen praedamque per herbas / convectant calle angusto; pars grandia trudunt / obnixae frumenta umeris, pars agmina cogunt / castigantque moras, opere omnis semita fervet; 6.706-709 hunc circum innumerae gentes populique volabant: / ac veluti in pratis ubi apes aestate serena / floribus insidunt variis et candida circum / lilia funduntur, strepit omnis murmure campus. As Norden 19574, 307 remarks, the last clause does not govern the temporal clause ubi… insidunt, but is freely coordinated by asyndeton. Verg. Aen. 2.624-631 reverses Hom. Il. 13.389-393 (where, though the verb describing the fall of the warrior precedes the comparison with the falling tree, this is in turn followed by a longer antapodosis describing the warrior’s fall in greater detail: …); Aen. 4.401-407 reverses Apoll. Rh. 4.1452-1456. Val. Fl. 3.220-228 Cyzicus hic aciem vanis discursibus implet / fata trahens; iam pulsa sibi cessisse Pelasgum / agmina, iam passim vacuos disiecta per agros / credit ovans; tales habitus, ea gaudia fingit / ira deum. Fundo veluti cum Coeus in imo / vincla Iovis fractoque trahens adamante catenas / Saturnum Tityumque vocat spemque aetheris amens / concipit, ast illum fluviis et nocte remensa / Eumenidum canis et sparsae iuba rettulit hydrae; Stat. Theb. 5.591-604 huc magno cursum rapit effera lucto / agnoscitque nefas, terraeque inlisa nocenti / funeris in morem non verba in fulmine primo / non lacrimas habet: ingeminat misera oscula tantum / incumbens animaeque fugam per membra tepentem / quaerit hians. Non ora loco, non pectora restant, / rupta cutis, tenuia ossa patent nexusque madentes / sanguinis imbre novi, totumque in vulnere corpus. / Ac velut aligerae sedem fetusque parentis / cum piger umbrosa populatus in ilice serpens, / illa redit querulaeque domus mirata quietem / iam stupet impendens advectosque horrida maesto / excutit ore cibos, cum solus in arbore paret / sanguis et errantes per capta cubilia pennae; 7.435-440 praecipitant cuncti fluvio puduitque se217

    Chapter XV cum) is found even in the relatively short epic essay by Petronius himself: the Bellum civile.36 The numerous parallels we have adduced suffice to guarantee that the transmitted text of this passage is sound, at least as far as the structure of the simile is concerned, although it has been defaced in Müller’s last editions on the basis of a groundless suggestion of Ehlers.37 What is particularly interesting to us is that Petronius surely had Lucan’s description of the same scene in mind, namely the Pompeians leaving Rome in haste and confusion,38 including a simile whose subject matter is the same as in the Bellum civile passage.39 Lucan’s simile, however, has a structure totally dif-

    36

    37

    38

    39

    218

    cutos. / Ac velut ignotum si quando armenta per amnem / pastor agit, stat triste pecus, procul altera tellus / omnibus et late medius timor: ast ubi ductor / taurus init facitque vadum, tunc mollior unda, / tunc faciles saltus, visaeque accedere ripae; Sil. Ital. 4.300310 ductore amisso pedibus se credere Celtae; / una spes anima tantusque pependerat ardor. / Ac veluti summo venator densa Picano / cum lustra exagitat spissisque cubilibus atram / immittit passim dumosa per invia pestem / – dum tacitas vires et flammam colligit ignis, / nigranti piceus sensim caligine vertex / volvitur et pingui contorquet nubila fumus; / mox subita in tota lucent incendia nocte – / fit sonitus, fugere ferae, fugere volucres, / atque ima longe trepidant in valle iuvencae; 8.278-283 haec postquam increpuit, portis arma incitus effert / impellitque moras, veluti cum carcere rupto / auriga indocilis totas effundit habenas / et, praeceps trepida pendens in verbera planta, / impar fertur equis; fumat male concitus axis, / ac frena incerto fluitant discordia curru. Petr. 123.229-237 sunt qui coniugibus maerentia pectora iungant, / grandaevosque patres, onerisque ignara iuventus / id pro quo metuit, tantum trahit. Omnia secum / hic vehit imprudens praedamque in proelia ducit. / Ac velut ex alto cum magnus inhorruit auster / et pulsas evertit aquas, non arma ministris, / non regimen prodest, ligat alter pondera pinus, / alter tuta sinus tranquillaque litora quaerit: / hic dat vela fugae fortunaeque omnia credit. The verbs at lines 235-237 do not govern the temporal clase introduced by cum, but are freely coordinated. In Müller-Ehlers 1983, 290-292 and in Müller’s subsquent editions lines 233-237 are displaced after line 220; a lacuna is assumed between lines 236 and 237; in addition, Ehlers believes that the beginning of an alleged correlative counterpart of ac velut… cum has been lost, and inserts, exempli gratia, something like haud secus hic acuit Martem, formidine victus between lines 236 and 237. Finally, a lacuna is assumed at line 230 after grandaevosque patres (the only not totally groundless intervention). This defaced text is accepted by Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 135-136 too. In his first edition (Müller 1961, 151) Müller did not rule out a lacuna between lines 229 and 230, but judiciously preserved the transmitted order and explained ac velut by referring to Norden 19574, 397, quoted above, note 30. Lucan. 1.498-509 qualis, cum turbidus auster / reppulit a Libycis inmensum Syrtibus aequor / fractaque veliferi sonuerunt pondera mali, / desilit in fluctus deserta puppe magister / navitaque et nondum sparsa compage carinae / naufragium sibi quisque facit, sic urbe relicta / in bellum fugitur. Nullum iam languidus aevo / evaluit revocare parens coniunxque maritum / fletibus aut patrii, dubiae cum vota salutis / conciperent, tenuere lares nec limine quisquam / haesit et extremo tunc forsitan urbis amatae / plenus abit visu: ruit irrevocabile volgus. Not only is the Pompeians’ flight compared to a sea storm in both poets; in both the storm is caused by the blowing of auster, and – more significant, to suggest a direct in-

    A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6) ferent from Petronius’. The latter has obviously recast Lucan’s depiction into a pattern that was traditional in Latin epic, as abundantly demonstrated by the numerous parallels quoted above. It is not by chance that no instance of this pattern appears in Lucan.40 The renovator of Roman epic consciously refused a Virgilian cliché accepted by all poets of his own and the following generation who attempted the epic genre. Under Petronius’ pen, his “correction” to Lucan acquires an emblematic import. Petronius (or, we should rather say, his character Eumolpus), who attacks Lucan in the name of “classicism” and tradition, brings back the simile to a traditional pattern that, unlike the epic poets following in the wake of Virgil, Lucan had rejected. Going back to our Petronian poem at 128.6, we may conclude that, after the previous poem,41 centered on an elaborate epic simile,42 Petronius continues his refined literary play by (parodically?) picking up, and developing partly in prose and partly in verse, a classic pattern of epic Latin poetry he himself (seriously?) adopts in the Bellum civile, but – unlike the poets following Virgil – Lucan had rejected in his newfangled epic poem. 3. The epic form of the simile made up by our poem and the immediately preceding prose is not matched by an incontrovertibly epic content. In Homer and in Virgil similes centered on dreams and dreaming are not wanting,43 but they center on the dreamer’s inability to carry out his wish, not on disappointment and regret brought about by the loss of a cherished vision at the moment of awakening, as it happens in Petronius. This also applies to a famous Lucretian simile,44 though it establishes the same connection between (frustrated) love and dream as our Petronian text.45 This is probably the reason – in addition to the mistaken but not universally rejected notion that Petronius was an Epicurean46 – why Epicurean elements have been sought in our poem as well as in all Petronian passages mentioning

    40 41

    42 43 44 45 46

    fluence – in both sails are called the pondera of the mast. See e.g. Stubbe 1933, 140; Guido 1976, 206. Guido 1976, 205 and n. 581 is misleading, in that he associates Lucan. 4.252, 6.253, and 7.866 with the Virgilian passages containing ac velut. The closeness of the two poems is probably the reason why in a part of the tradition the last line of 127.9 (candidiorque dies secreto favit amori) ended up after v. 4 of our poem at 128.6 See ch. XIV. Cf. e.g. Hom. Il. 22.199-201; Verg. Aen. 12.908-918, quoted by Kragelund 1989, 444 and n. 61. Lucr. 4.1097-1104. Cf. Di Simone 1993, 98. For the question of Petronius’ relation to Epicureanism and the distinctly non-Epicurean character of his work see ch. XVII, with the literature quoted and discussed; also Kragelund 1989, 456 n. 3. 219

    Chapter XV dreams, although at closer inspection there does not seems to be any appreciable trace of Epicureanism in either case: in our poem at 128.647 as well as in the other passages.48 Once the ground has been cleared from the fallacy of an allegedly Epicurean character of our verse, it is necessary to look in other directions to ascertain its sources and nature. The notion of dreaming of a treasure must have been widespread, given the fact that it is recorded even by historians,49 also in connection with a sensational piece of news that shortly preceded Petronius’ death.50 But 47

    48

    49 50

    220

    The final image of our poem has been associated with Lucr. 4.978-979 by Raith 1963, 61 n. 19 and Di Simone 1993, 98 n. 28, but the Epicurean poet refers to the persistence of the images of wakefulness, not of dream, as in Petronius. Besides, Plut. non posse suav. vivi 4, 1089B, quoted by Di Simone (cf. also Brown 1987, 109 n. 23), far from mirroring Epicurus’ ideas, associates dreams of sensual pleasures with the memory of pleasures actually enjoyed in the past for the purposes of his polemic against the Epicurean practice to foster the recollection of past pleasures. It is also hard to understand how Di Simone 1993, 98-99, though correctly interpreting vera voluptate (Petr. 128.5) as a reference to reality as opposed to the vanity of dreams, can at the same time take it as a hint at the vera voluptas (i.e. ataraxia) of Lucr. 5.1433, as opposed to deceptive pleasures. Patimo 2006, 478 now agrees. The coming true of Lichas’ and Tryphaena’s dreams (106.3), against Eumolpus’ prejudiced skepticism (104.3), does not mean that the latter is wrong and that gods really take care of human things according to Raith 1963, 11 and Kragelund 1989, 443. Courtney 1991, 14 judges the latter’s reasoning over-subtle. At any rate, the idea defended by Eumolpus is no proof of the character’s (and much less the author’s) acceptance of Epicureanism. As for Petr. fr. 43 Müller (remarkably close to our poem, cf. above, note 4), only the beginning can be called Epicurean (actually only generally rationalistic), in that it rejects the divine origin of dreams (vv. 1-2 somnia, quae mentes ludunt volitantibus umbris, / non delubra deum nec ab aethere numina mittunt). Here too, like everywhere in Petronius, the specifically Epicurean doctrine concerning dreams is missing (unless it is hinted at by volitantibus umbris): their derivation from the simulacra, emphasized at all times in the school’s texts (Epic. sent. Vatic. 24; Lucr. 4.757-759; Diog. Oenoand. fr. 9, IV-VI; 10, I-V Smith; cf. fr. 43, I). There is more: this doctrine is expressly denied by what follows (Petr. fr. 43 Müller, v. 3 sed sibi quisque facit; cf. also Courtney 1991, 64). Petronius adopts the same attitude we find centuries later in a Neoplatonist like Macrobius, according to whom dreams like those of this Petronian fragment stem from men’s psyche (Macr. in somn. Scip. 1.3.5 ex habitu mentis quietem sicut praevenerant ita et turbaverant dormientis: see also below, note 52). So, the conclusions reached by Kragelund 1989, 444-445, on the basis of less immediately convincing arguments, concerning the non-Epicurean character of Petronius’ fragment, were amply to be expected. He also denies any hint at Lucretius’ fourth book in the fragment (which in my opinion cannot be ruled out, but must be limited to formal elements). According to Musurillo 1958 the fragment symbolically illustrates the vanity of all of men’s activities and expectations. Sall. hist. 3.109 Maurenbrecher quaerit, extisne † somnio portenderetur thesaurus. See Funari 1996, II, 643-644. Concerning Caesellius Bassus, who had taken for reality his dreams about Dido’s treasures: Tac. ann. 16.1-3 (Tacitus’ language somewhat reminds of Petronius’: effosso

    A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6) our verse is not about dreams revealing the location of treasures rightly or wrongly considered to be real, but a dream of wealth that is destroyed at awakening. The explication of dreams as the product of our thoughts, experiences, fears, or desires, though sometimes accepted in Epicureanism too, was much older than Epicurus,51 and remained in favor even after Epicurean philosophy had lost all ascendancy.52 Discovering a treasure was certainly a very common desire, as testified by Petronius himself in what remains of the Satyrica53 and in the fragment we have repeatedly mentioned in the footnotes.54 In the poem at 128.6, however, emphasis is laid not so much on the fulfillment of desire as, on the one hand, on the anxiety of possession, experienced as precarious and insecure even in the dream, and on the frustration caused by the bitter return to reality at awakening on the other. To understand and appreciate our text to the fullest it is necessary to ascertain both the origin of the ideas contained therein, and how and to what extent they were affected and modified by Petronius. A most revealing parallel is found in a curious writing by Lucian, the Gallus,55 a dialogue between the cobbler Micyllus and his rooster, who is a reincarnation of no less than Pythagoras. Micyllus too has dreamed he has discovered a treasure, and is angry at the rooster for awakening him; the contrast between dream and reality,56 the vanity of dream visions,57 but also their pleasantness worthy of regret58 are successively emphasized. The motif of regret after awakening from a dream of wealth, then, was a diatribic theme, allowing the preacher to introduce the topic of the deceptiveness of the value of money – as it happens in fact in Lucian’s writing, in which the rooster does not fail to instruct Micyllus and to make him change his mind. But Petronius has intervened on this theme through a reversal of standpoints.

    51 52 53 54

    55 56 57 58

    agro… elusum). See Millar 1963, 36; Champlin 1978, 106, on Calpurnius Siculus and treasures found by privates under Nero. See e.g. Ronconi 1961, 18; 63-64 (on Cic. somn. Scip. 10). For the idea in Epicureanism cf. Lucr. 4.962-972. In the catalogs in Artemid. Dald. 1.1 and Macr. in somn. Scip. 1.3.4-6 dreams caused by experiences, fears, or desires still appear among non-prophetic ones. Petr. 88.8. Petr. fr. 43 Müller (cf. above, notes 4; 48), v. 11 condit avarus opes defossumque invenit aurum. Kragelund 1989, 445 correctly interprets the fragment as a catalog of dreams connected with activities carried out while awake, or expressing fears or wishes. Some reservations should be expressed on his understanding (p. 440) Lichas’ and Tryphaena’s dreams as expressing erotic desire; this element is surely there, but it coexists with the drive for revenge, in a context more complex than Kragelund seems to realize. The reference to Lucian’s Gallus was made already by González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 262, who, to be sure, limited himself to very few passages. Lucian. gallus 1 Lucian. gallus 4 … … Lucian. gallus 1; 6; 20. 221

    Chapter XV In Lucian poor Micyllus, naively ignorant of the real state of things, gleans nothing but pure and unalloyed joy from his dream’s delusion. Only later, after the bitter awakening, and instructed by his philosophic rooster, does he learn that wealth produces nothing but unhappiness and anxiety, and will see with his own eyes some wealthy misers always in fear of being found out and robbed.59 Petronius, by contrast, emphasizes the neurotic anxiety affecting the discoverer of the treasure already in the description of the dream.60 Joy makes its appearance only retrospectively, as the regret of a lost good, when awakening has already destroyed the illusion. The diatribic themes, which appear separately in Lucian, are compressed and concentrated by Petronius, thus creating a picture of consistently somber and gloomy colors, which produces a much more powerful effect. There is another clue confirming the diatribic mold of the content of our poem: the clear and precise formal contacts with another Petronian verse composition: the famous lines on theatrical fiction, bound to be replaced, at the end of the performance, by the humble everyday reality – a metaphor for the falseness and vanity of the roles established by social conventions and conveniences.61 The parallels are conspicuous,62 and not by chance do they occur in the final part of both compositions, the one which, by referring to reality, emphasizes the common deceptiveness (and temporariness to boot) of both theater and dream. Nor will it be by chance that the reference to theatrical fiction, common and widespread though it was,63 reappears, with a meaning and import very close to Petronius’, in Lucian’s Gallus, where, in conjunction with the dream of the treasure’ discovery, it fulfills the function of unmasking the deceptive falseness of the commonly received criteria of judgment. And, like Petronius, Lucian explicitly lays emphasis on the contrast between delusion and reality by refer-

    59 60 61

    62

    63

    222

    Lucian. gallus 22; 29. Notice terms emphasizing a neurotic attitude, such as versat, improba, rapit, and most of all timor (with the whole lines 5-6). Petr. 80.9.5-8 grex agit in scaena mimum: pater ille vocatur, / filius hic, nomen divitis ille tenet. / Mox ubi ridendas inclusit pagina partes, / vera redit facies, assimulata perit. See ch. VIII. The end of the delusion is signaled in both poems through the same turn (mox ubi: 80.9.7 = 128.6.7); vera… facies (80.9.8) closely reminds of veraque forma (126.8.8). Incidentally, this reference nullifies the objection of Wehle 1861, 54, according to whom the latter expression is incomprehensible without the addition of rerum. The contacts between the two poems were already pointed out by Burman 1743, I, 795, and are particularly emphasized by Stöcker 1969, 152-153. See Helm 1906, 45-53 (on our passage by Lucian, pp. 45 and 52, where it is associated with Petr. 80.9); cf. also Curtius 1948, 146-152 (on Petr. 80.9, p. 147). Oltramare 1926, 53, 122, 150, 176 does not consider the meaning which the common theatrical metaphor receives in Petronius.

    A Vanishing Dream (Petr. 128.6) ring to the latter with the adjective , exactly corresponding to the Roman’s vera facies and vera forma.64 But if these correspondences incontrovertibly prove that the theme developed in our poem was of diatribic mold, there can be no doubt that it is recast in the form of a simile totally in line with the patterns of Roman epic. This amounts to an almost “blasphemous” blending of the flaunted literary humility of diatribe and the dignified loftiness of epic; and surely it is not inconceivable that Petronius, after the previous poem, also in the form of an epic simile but with a dignified content which only the prose context exposes as parodical and in its own way blasphemous too,65 may have amused himself by perpetrating the literary scandal of trasferring diatribic material to epic form. A comparison with a late epic poet, however, may lead us not to rule out that this material had already acquired right of citizenship in heroic poetry, and precisely with the comparative function and even the syntactic structure we find in Petronius. In Nonnos’ Dionysiaca a long comparison closely reminds the reader of our Petronian poem.66 In Petronius the order is reversed, so that the narrated situation precedes the comparison meant to illustrate it, as Virgil had done in relation to his models Homer and Apollonius of Rhodes. The connection of Nonnos’ picture with the Petronian text, and also with Lucian’s Gallus, is at any rate assured. It is guaranteed not merely by the conspicuous general affinity, but also by clear linguistic parallels: the dreamer handles the treasure the vision puts before him, like in Petronius,67 and watches the gold “flow” through his hands, like in Lucian.68 And in Nonnos too the insistence on the deceptiveness of the dream of wealth and the emphasized contrast with the disappointment at awakening are as many clues pointing to the theme’s originally diatribic mold.

    64 65 66

    67 68

    Lucian. gall. 26 (the whole paragraph; in particular , as opposed to the theatrical mask). See ch. XIV. Nonn. Dionys. 35.245-253 / ! / " !/ #/ $ / "% & !/ ! !/ & & & #/ . The passage was already pointed out by Burman 1743, I, 795. Nonn. Dionys. 35.246-247 / ~ Petr. 128.6.3 versat manus etc. Nonn. Dionys. 35.247 " ~ Lucian. gallus 12 " …

    223

    Chapter XVI Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8)* Mobilis aestivas platanus diffuderat umbras et bacis redimita Daphne tremulaeque cupressus et circum tonsae trepidanti vertice pinus. Has inter ludebat aquis errantibus amnis spumeus et querulo vexabat rore lapillos. Dignus amore locus; testis silvestris aedon atque urbana Procne, quae circum gramina fusae et molles violas cantu sua rura colebant.

    5

    L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 1 mobilis R: nobilis LBP 2 post 3 legitur in L 4 errantibus Otp Samb.: trepidantibus lr 6 silvestris aedon Scaliger: silvester aedon Pius: silvesterisdon B: silvester iasdon tpRP: silvestris hirundo lr Memm. Tolos.(ap. p2) 8 et L: ac O sua rura ltpR: suasura BP: sua iura r Memm. colebant L: colebat O lacunam ind. t

    1. This poetic description in Ovidian style1 of the locus amoenus which will be the setting of Encolpius’ and Circe’s second amorous tryst poses from the very first word some rather intricate textual problems that must be solved before going on to interpret the composition.

    * 1

    A version of this chapter will appear in Rome et le Christianisme: mutations, stratégies et créativité. Mélanges en l’honneur de Leandro Polverini (= “Anabases” 12, 2010), with the title La poesia in Petronio, Sat. 131.8. Cf. Collignon 1892, 240; Paratore 1933, II, 116; Stöcker 1969, 41; Rindi 1980, 126.

    Chapter XVI The majority of witnesses read nobilis at line 1, while mobilis is only found in R. Nobilis is in fact preferred by several authoritative scholars2 and is anything but unparalleled in poetry in reference to trees and groves.3 Nevertheless the theme of plants moving in the wind, besides being topical in descriptions of the locus amoenus and occurring in Greek novels too,4 surely appears in lines 2 and 3 of our Petronian poem;5 quite possibly, then, it was touched upon in line 1 too – and so in all the lines describing the most prominent feature of this locus amoenus: arboreal vegetation, which was of course naturally connected with soft breezes in this type of descriptions. In fact, not a few editors and scholars prefer mobilis at the beginning of the poem.6 A further argument in favor of this reading is the wealth of sensory suggestions in this composition,7 which is still enriched by mobilis, whereas nobilis would only be an abstract indication and fit the sensorial network of this poem much less. Another textual problem concerns the second adjective of line 6: silvestris or silvester. Variously corrupt readings are given by the tradition, but we may be reasonably certain that the last word of the verse was the Greek loan word aedon, “nightingale”,8 to which we will return later. The preceding word, on the basis of what is offered by tradition (O), should be reconstructed in the form silvester, but as far as we know there are no instances in which this form is used as a feminine, although something of the sort sporadically happens with similarly formed adjectives, and once even in Petronius himself, according to a part 2

    3 4 5

    6

    7

    8

    226

    It was preferred already by Burman 1743, I, 807 and González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 268. In times closer to us by Bücheler 1862, 182 and later editions; Heseltine 1913 290; Müller 1961, 162 and later editions; Pellegrino 1975, 175. Apart from editors, nobilis is also preferred by e.g. Stöcker 1969, 41 n. 1; Sochatoff 1969-1970, 340; Mattiacci 1990, 83; Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 136; Haß 1998, 29. E.g. Hor. c. 1.14.12; cf. Ov. met. 13.794. E.g. Ach. Tat. 1.15.4 Petr. 131.8.2 tremulaeque cupressus; 3 trepidanti vertice pinus. The obvious connection of the plants’ movement with the wind is confirmed by the poeta novellus Septimius Serenus: Septim. Seren. fr. 11 Mattiacci pinea brachia cum trepidant / audio canticulum Zephyri. Cf. Mattiacci 1982, 149; Perutelli 1985, 42. Among editors Ernout 1923, 158; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 134; Courtney 1991, 32; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 146. Besides, many popular editions: Ciaffi 19672, 330; Canali 1990, 238; Reverdito 1995, 246; Aragosti 1995, 492; Scarsi 1996, 226. Among other scholars Stubbe 1933, 178; MacL. Currie 1969, 94; Curtius 1948, 202; Barnes 1971, 231; Walsh 1996, 131 and 197; Connors 1998, 71. Cf. Barnes 1971, 231, who, besides mobilis, lists aestivas, trepidanti, ludebat aquis errantibus amnis spumeus, querulo… rore, molles violas, cantu… colebant. Sochatoff 1969-1970, 344 also emphasizes the wealth of sensory evocations in the poem, but adopts nobilis in the first line. As we shall see later on (note 111), the reading going back to L (silvestris hirundo) deserves no credit. The reconstruction of the line’s two final words will have to be based on O, offering silvesterisdon (B) and silvester iasdon (RP).

    Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) of the tradition.9 The textual choice is particularly difficult in this case.10 Pius had proposed silvester, but Scaliger preferred silvestris. In times closer to us a particularly significant vacillation appears in the most authoritative recent editions of Petronius: those by Konrad Müller. In the first he accepted silvestris, though noting in the apparatus that Pius’ reading was perhaps the correct one,11 then he adopted silvester,12 only to return to silvestris in the last editions. A textual problem of great import concerns the last verse, even though, in my opinion, it has been artificially created by some scholars who thought that the expression cantu sua rura colebant was not admissible in Latin.13 Bücheler adopted the reading found in the Memmianus (cantu sua iura colebant) in his great 1862 edition,14 and sua furta in his later ones.15 Konrad Müller accepts the transmitted text in his first edition,16 but in his later ones he places the words sua rura colebant between two cruces,17 and adds a series of dots after them, thus implying that the poem should be regarded as truncated. He was followed by Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni, although for a different reason;18 at any rate, the idea that the poem was incomplete had already gained strength at the time.19 It is true that the iunctura rura colere is normally employed in the sense of farming – and therefore inhabiting – a certain area;20 but in Ovid it is referred to the activity of bees,21 which, like the melodious birds referred to in our poem, 9 10

    11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

    20 21

    E.g. Lucr. 4.160 celer… origo; Apul. met. 10.31 haec… alacer. Cf. Petr. 123.210-211, where O has volucer… Fama, and L is split in two (volucris/volucrum). Among editors silvestris is preferred by Bücheler 1862, 182, and subsequent editions; Heseltine 1913, 290; Ernout 1923, 158; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 134; Pellegrino 1975, 175; Courtney 1991, 32. Among other scholars, by Curtius 1948, 202; MacL. Currie 1960, 94; Ciaffi 19672, 330; Mattiacci 1990, 83; Canali 1990, 238; Scarsi 1996, 226. Among editors silvester is preferred by Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 146; also by Aragosti 1995, 494; Reverdito 1995, 246. Müller 1961, 162. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 320. Cf. e.g. Stubbe 1933, 178-179: “der letzte Vers ist heillos korrupt… Rura colere ist mit cantu unvereinbar”. Bücheler 1862, 182. He was followed by Heseltine 1913, 292, who adds a series of dots after the last line. See above, in the text. Müller 1961, 162. Cf. e.g. Müller 1995, 132: “requiro velut cantus variare solebant”. Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 167: “desideratur verbum quoddam laetandi aut implendi”. Cf. e.g. Van Thiel 1971, 16: “der Schluß des Gedichtes 131,8,8 ist nicht in Ordnung: vielleicht ist der letzte Satz unvollständig”. In times closer to us the words sua rura colebant are trascribed between two cruces by Connors 1998, 71 too, although she does not seem to regard the poem as incomplete. Cf. e.g. Lucan. 3.191. In Prop. 2.19.2 the idea of farming has totally disappeared. Ov. met. 15.366-367 florilegae… apes, quae more parentum / rura colunt operique favent in spemque laborant. 227

    Chapter XVI often appear in descriptions of the locus amoenus.22 Besides, as it has been rightly pointed out,23 cantu joined with sua rura colebant expresses the birds’ fashion to honor and celebrate the joyful countryside in which they live.24 Numerous editors and scholars, in fact, accept the transmitted text and believe the poem to be complete.25 In my opinion too the last verse is sound and the composition complete.26 The lucubrations striving to create a textual problem where in all probability there is none have given the cue for a recently proposed intervention in the closing of the poem, which yields frankly implausible results. I am referring to an essay by Pierpaolo Campana,27 which, starting from questionable premises,28 ar22 23 24

    25

    26

    27 28

    228

    Cf. Schönbeck 1962, 37, 57. By Barnes 1971, 240 n. 18. This is also the interpretation of Ciaffi 19672, 331: “un inno levavano ai campi” (= Reverdito 1995, 247); Canali 1990, 239: “inneggiavano ai campi con melodiose voci”; Aragosti 1995, 494: “levavano ai campi loro dimora un inno di gorgheggi; Walsh 1996, 132: “they hymned their rustic dwelling in glad song”. Curtius 1948, 202 takes colebant to mean “embellished”: “verschönten den Platz mir ihrem Sang”. Besides the scholars mentioned in the previous note, among editors Ernout 1923, 158; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 134; Pellegrino 1975, 175; Courtney 1991, 32-33; also MacL. Currie 1960, 94; Scarsi 1996, 226. We may at most surmise that there may be a lacuna after the verse, though only t marks it in the tradition. Possibly something has been lost, but at any rate the lacuna, if there is one, was not extensive, as correctly remarked by Ciaffi 1955, 110. Aragosti 1995, 494 n. 389 believes there may be no lacuna; like Barnes 1971, 231, he remarks that the depiction of Circe serenely reclining at 131.9 is in keeping with the sensuous nature of the poem. Campana 2007. In the first place Campana assumes that violets never appear alone, but are always accompanied by other flowers in descriptions of the locus amoenus. This is contradicted by one of the archetypes of such descriptions, that of the grove in the island of Calypso, where the only flower is precisely the violet (Hom. Od. 5.72: the other plant mentioned there, the – celery –, is not a flower); violets also appear alone in an artificial locus amoenus, the result of an evolution in taste we shall briefly outline later on: the villa described by Plin. ep. 2.17.17. In my opinion, violets appear alone in Petronius’ poem for the structural reason we shall explain later (below, text to note 82). Campana’s second assumption is that the locus amoenus, including this one described by Petronius, joins the characters of the natural forest with those of the garden, leaving no room for the intermediate type represented by the rus; because of this, he envisages the possibility that the words sua rura may not be original, though he ends up by preserving them. As we shall soon see, this premiss too is far from being sound: cultivated countryside is an essential element of the locus amoenus ever since Homer (cf. the garden of Alcinous), and in Petronius’ times a rus could well be annexed to a domus: cf. Mart. 8.68.12 (expressly referring to the Odyssey) qui Corcyraei vidit pomaria regis, / rus, Entelle, tuae praeferet ille domus. Finally, in Campana’s opinion, the verb fundo at line 7 (circum gramina fusae) is anomalous in reference to birds and should rather refer to flowers (the violets mentioned in our text, plus more flowers appearing in verses alleg-

    Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) rives at even more questionable conclusions. He assumes a transposition of the second halves of lines 7 and 8 (the first half of line 7 should be followed by the second of line 8, and the first of line 8 by the second of line 7) which forces him to correct violas to violae and to assume the incompleteness of the poem, which in the lost final lines would have mentioned other flowers.29 The text he gets is, by his own admission, strained and unnatural.30 Before undertaking the interpretation of the poem it was at any rate necessary to clear the ground of unnecessary textual proposals whose only effect is to complicate needlessly and in the final analysis to distort the Petronian text. 2. A further detail must be clarified before tackling our poem’s more properly literary aspects concerning both its generic affiliation and the role it plays in the Petronian novel. I refer to the relation of this locus amoenus to the location of Encolpius’ and Circe’s previous rendezvous. Scholars do not agree. Whereas nearly everybody admits that the setting of the second tryst is the garden or private park annexed to Circe’s house,31 not all believe it to be the same place or a place located in the same area as the previous meeting.32

    29

    30

    31 32

    edly lost), as is the case at 127.9.1. This is contradicted by the numerous texts already adduced by Burman 1743, I, 808-809 to support his perfectly acceptable interpretation of circum gramina fusae / et molles violas as referring to the birds “quae temere et passim ibi vagantur”. I refer in particular to Stat. Theb. 5.186 iam domibus fusi et nemorum per opaca sacrorum; Verg. Aen. 1.214 fusique per herbam (cf. Petronius’ circum gramina); and Petronius himself, fr. 48.8 Müller fusa puella toro. For another unacceptable interpretation of Campana’s (the swallow and the nightingale as the symbol of the two aspects – wild and humanized – of the locus amoenus) see below, § 4 end. Campana 2007, 118 n. 4. The text proposed by Campana is the following (vv. 6-8): dignus amore locus: testis silvestris aedon / atque urbana Procne cantu sua rura colebant / et molles violae quae circum gramina fusae… Campana 2007, 118 n. 4: “difficile negare comunque che in questo modo più di una perplessità verrebbe suscitata da testis, che, da esplicativo di dignus amore locus…, assumerebbe una meno naturale funzione predicativa sia rispetto agli uccelli che rispetto ai fiori”. That is, a nemus / intra pulchra satum tecta (Hor. c. 3.10.5-6), as Ciaffi 1955, 110 puts it. Cf. e.g. Paratore 1933, II, 117 n. 1; Courtney 1991, 33; Courtney 2001, 196. The location is the same for Stöcker 1969, 40; Haß 1998, 28; Cavalca 2001, 140; Campana 2007, 115. Van Thiel 1971, 52 believes the two Petronian texts to describe the same place, but needlessly transposes the verse at 131.8 before ch. 126 on the grounds that it describes an open air location, whereas 132.4 extra ianuam eiectus sum proves, in his opinion, that the second tryst took place indoors; but if the place is a private park annexed to the house, it is part of this, and is located behind the entrance door, like the indoor spaces. The previous rendezvous surely took place in an open air space, but Encolpius could call his lovemaking secretus (127.9.5). He can, therefore, be thrown out onto the street even if the tryst took place in a private park. According to Courtney 1991, 33 (cf. Courtney 2001, 196) the two places are similar but distinct. 229

    Chapter XVI In order to obtain a reliable result it is necessary to start from what we can gather with certainty from the text. At the beginning of the chapter containing our poem it is stated that the place to which the sorceress Proselenos is led by Chrysis to perform her magic rites on Encolpius, who is waiting for her there, is the same sycamore (plane tree) grove in which his first tryst with Circe took place;33 nor should we forget that a laurel grove was there too.34 The text following Encolpius’ meeting with Chrysis and Proselenos is riddled with gaps, but there is nothing to make us believe that the poem at 131.8 describes a place far removed from that of the beginning of the chapter; incidentally, sycamores and laurels are the first plants mentioned in the poem. Circe appears immediately after,35 and is clearly at home, reclining as she does on a gilded couch,36 – probably a piece of furniture meant for the garden; shortly after, in addition, she is able to summon her servants to throw Encolpius out.37 But Encolpius is not the only one to be thrown out: Proselenos is treated in the same way, while Chrysis, who is Circe’s slave, gets a sound whipping.38 These are precisely the two characters Encolpius has met in the platanon at the beginning of chapter 131, before describing the locus amoenus in verse and descrying Circe reclining at her ease. Presumably, then, the setting of the action, like the characters participating in it, has not changed in the interval between Proselenos’ magic cure performed on Encolpius and the latter’s expulsion from Circe’s abode. As a consequence, not only is the locus amoenus described at 131.8 part of Circe’s private park, but it is also contiguous with the platanon mentioned both in connection with Encolpius’ and Circe’s first encounter and in the scene of Encolpius’ meeting with Chrysis and Proselenos, which clearly takes place in the same park. Actually this platanon, with the adjoining daphnon, may be the same place described in our poem. If Proselenos’ magic had taken place outside Circe’s private park, there would have been no reason why not merely the slave girl Chrysis, who belongs to the household, but Proselenos too should have accompanied Encolpius to Circe’s house and park. But Proselenos is undoubtedly still on the scene after Encolpius’ failure. Now, since the platanon in which Proselenos performs her magic is explicitly identified with the location of the two lovers’ first tryst, and 33 34 35 36 37

    38

    230

    Petr. 131.1 in eundem platanona descendi, etiam si locum inauspicatum timebam. Petr. 126.12 in platanona… in eum daphnona. As we have seen (above, note 26) the lacuna between 131.8 and 131.9 is short or nonexistent. Petr. 131.9 premebat illa resoluta marmoreis cervicibus aureum torum. Petr. 132.2-4. We have already remarked (above, note 32) that, if the tryst takes place in a private park annexed to the house, the words extra ianuam eiectus sum do not necessarily refer to an indoor space. Petr. 132.5 eicitur et Proselenos, Chrysis vapulat. During the lovers’ first encounter Chrysis, as Circe’s handmaid, is near (128.3-4), but not Proselenos, since no need for a magician was anticipated. Obviously, Circe is at home, in her park, both times she meets Encolpius.

    Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) she is still there after the failure of the second, it follows that the two rendezvous took place in the same location: Circe’s private park.39 That the private parks of wealthy people contained platanones and daphnones is well attested;40 but if the setting of the two encounters is the same, we should not forget that Circe’s private park is also endowed with a Venus temple,41 and that the goddess’ presence makes itself felt in the poetic atmosphere of the novel’s parts in which Circe is acting.42 The divine presence in the locus amoenus is indeed a recurring element in the whole evolution of the topic, down to its latest occurrences. We may begin our analysis of Petronius’ treatment and adaptation of this widespread theme with this aspect, which at first glance might appear to be foreign to the verse at 131.8, and then proceed to a close scrutiny of our poem. 3. The divine presence in the locus amoenus is a current feature from an early age; it is found, for example, in one of the most meaningful models, which was pivotal for the very establishment of the topos: Plato’s description of the place in which Socrates and Phaedrus rest and begin discussing about love in the dialogue bearing the latter’s name;43 but it also appears in both classic44 and Hellenistic45 poetry. It is also found in a description sharing with Petronius the presence of a temple located in a villa’s private park – a trait which, as we shall see, connects it with a stage of the evolution in taste during the imperial period.46 But the theme of Venus as the locus amoenus’ peculiar guardian we find in Petronius goes back, on the one hand, to a very old and prestigious model; and it extends, on the other, to times later than Petronius, and down to late antiquity, in writings connected with the novelistic genre. The old and prestigious model I am referring to is the description found in Sappho’s poem transmitted by the 39 40

    41 42

    43

    44 45 46

    Further correspondences linking the settings of the two meetings are 127.8 and 10 gramine ~ 131.8.7 gramina; 127.9.4 violae ~ 131.8.8 violas. Cf. e.g. Mart. 12.50.1-2 daphnonas, platanonas et aërios pityonas / et non unius balnea solus habes. Notice that here pines too are mentioned; pines appear at Petr. 131.8.3. More texts in Pacchieni 1976, 83 and n. 34; Cavalca 2001, 139. Petr. 128.4 excussit vexatam solo vestem raptimque aedem Veneris intravit. Cf. Petr. 127.9.6 talis humus Venerem molles clamavit in herbas; and the underlying allusion to Aphrodite’s role in Hom. Il. 14. See ch. XIV. Dronke 19682, I, 176 perceives “the sense of hidden divinity and a profusion which… borders on the oppressive” in the two poems at 127.9 and 131.8. Plat. Phaedr. 230b ! " . For the divine presence , in particular the Nymphs’ (already in Hom. Od. 17.210-211), in the locus amoenus cf. Schönbeck 1962, 34-35; For the Phaedrus passage, Schönbeck 1962, 102-111; Haß 1998, 31-34. E.g. in Sophocles’ Oed. Colon.: cf. Schönbeck 1962, 88-102; Haß 1998, 55-56. E.g. in Theocritus’ Thalysia: cf. Schönbeck 1962, 112-128; Haß 1998, 92-93. I am referring to Hercules’ temple annexed to Pollius Felix’ villa described by Stat. silv. 3.1. Cf. Newlands 1984, 152-159. 231

    Chapter XVI famous Florence ostrakon;47 and an extension to an age later than Petronius may be found in one of Alciphron’s epistles, in which, in a highly eroticized locus amoenus, some girls are described while praying to the Nymphs and Aphrodite to obtain numerous lovers.48 As already mentioned, divine presence in general and Venus’ in particular is not directly apparent in the poetic description at 131.8; but the clear hints provided by Petronius in connection with Encolpius’ and Circe’s first encounter should be kept in mind when we are confronted with the way the locus amoenus is characterized in our poem: dignus amore locus (v. 6).49 We shall see that this implies a gradual transformation of the locus amoenus to a locus amoris (or a lucus Veneris) – incidentally providing a further clue pointing to the identification of the locale of the two encounters. Our poem expressly mentions several other elements traditionally connected with the locus amoenus; in particular, all those identified by Ernst Robert Curtius in the pioneering pages he devoted to the theme of the ideal landscape and the locus amoenus in his famous book on Europen literature and Latin Middle Ages,50 on the basis of our very poem, a verse fragment of the late Latin poet Tiberianus,51 and a text of the late Greek rhetorician Libanius.52 Tiberianus lists them in his last, summarizing verse: ales amnis aura lucus flos et umbra iuverat,53 and the same elements appear in Libanius’ description (shade is not explicitly mentioned, but is implied in the trees’ presence: ). In Petronius’ poem there are trees, shade, brook, flowers (violets), birds’ song; the breeze is implied by the plants’ movement.54 The three descriptions, then, perfectly correspond to one another, although Libanius’ mention of leads us to regard Petronius’ poem (featuring artificially trimmed pines)55 as closer to him than to 47

    48

    49 50 51 52

    53 54 55

    232

    Sappho fr. 2 Voigt: the poem describes an sacred to Aphrodite, who has a temple there and makes her presence felt, like in Petronius. For the poem as a locus amoenus description cf. Schönbeck 1962, 78-87; Haß 1998, 52-54. Alciphr. 4.13.4 # $ ! . In Longus’ novel Philetas’ garden is guarded by Eros (Long. Soph. 2.4-6); In Dionysophanes’ there is a shrine consecrated to Dionysus: 4.3. Anticipated, as we shall see, by the first plant mentioned in the poem: the sycamore, whose erotic symbolism is clear. See below, § 5 end. Curtius 1948, 191-209, especially 202-206. Tiberian. 1 Mattiacci, the famous Amnis (from the first verse: amnis ibat inter herbas valle fusus frigida). See the beautiful pages of Mattiacci 1990, 71-83. Liban. orat. 11.200 % & % '' ' ( # ) " Tiberian. 1.20 Mattiacci. Cf. above, note 4-5. Petr. 131.8.3 et circum tonsae trepidanti vertice pinus.

    Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) Tiberianus, whose locus amoenus, idealized as it is, appears to pass itself off as a natural grove. Schönbeck’s accurate classification,56 carried out on the basis of a much ampler material, adds numerous further elements to the six we have mentioned, which remain, at any rate, the most peculiar in descriptions of the locus amoenus.57 In one point Petronius’ locus amoenus seems to differ from the most common type of these descriptions: in his poem it is summer,58 whereas in most other cases the ideal landscape is that of spring.59 The famous scene in Plato’s Phaedrus, however, mentions the chirping of cicadas,60 which itself became a standard element of the locus amoenus,61 and favored numerous summer settings.62 One final element – formal this time – deserves being emphasized in our Petronian poem. The only finite verbs we find are imperfects and one pluperfect (diffuderat, v. 1), whose meaning is distinctly imperfective too.63 These are the tenses currently appearing in comparable narrative contexts.64 This formal detail 56 57

    58 59

    60 61 62 63 64

    Schönbeck 1962, 18-60. It would be too long to make a list of all the common elements linking our Petronian poem with the countless locus amoenus descriptions. I will restrict myself to the already mentioned parallels with Alciphr. 4.13, where we have trees (including laurels and sycamores), water, flowers, grass, nightingales (besides Aphrodite’s presence: cf. above, note 48), and to those with a later epigone, Aristaen. 1.3, with plants (including cypresses and sycamores), shade, breeze, spring, nightingales and other birds. For this text see Drago 2007, 122.134. For the Greek novel, Ach. Tat. 1.15, where we have trees (including sycamores and pines), shade, breeze, flowers (including violets), spring, birds (including swallows, designated with the same mythological reference as in Petr. 131.8.6-7); Long. Soph. 4.2-3, with trees (all of Petronius’ four: cypresses, laurels, sycamores, and pines), flowers (including violets), shade. The parallels with Tiberianus’ Amnis, as we have seen, are also numerous and conspicuous. Petr. 131.8.1 aestivas… umbras. E.g. in Alciphr. 4.13.18; Liban. orat. 11.200. Cf. Curtius 1948, 200-201 n. 2; Mattiacci 1990, 80-81. But Schönbeck 1962, 39-41 notes that elements typical of spring (not wanting even in Petronius: swallows, violets) do not always consistently fit the general picture of the locus amoenus. Plat. Phaedr. 230c Cf. Schönbeck 1962, 59-60. It is summer, and cicadas are present, e.g. in Theocr. 7.139; Ach. Tat. 1.15.8; Aristaen. 1.3; Culex 153. For this meaning of the pluperfect see Ronconi 1959, 43, 99-100. Cf. e.g Ach. Tat. 1.2.3 % & ; 1.15 (imperfects, but 1.15.3 ; 4 # * ; 6 ); Long. Soph. 4.2-3 (imperfects, but 4.2.1 ; 4 ;5 … ). The same tenses also in the description by Tiberian. 1 Mattiacci (imperfects, but v. 5 creverat; 13 vinxerant; 18 moverat; 20 iuverat. Cf. Mattiacci 1990, 75). Cf. already Hom. Od. 5.63-73 (imperfects, but v. 63 ; 68 ; 69 ). 233

    Chapter XVI already makes it clear that our poem should be considered not merely in the light of the rhetorical tradition related to the locus amoenus, but also of this topic’s employment and function in works that belong in, or are close to, the literary genre to which Petronius’ work is formally to be ascribed. 4. Before we analyze our poem’s artistic and literary function in the frame of the narrative context and in relation to that of comparable descriptions occurring in the Greek novel, in writings somehow related to it, like Alciphron’s and Aristaenetus’ we have already referred to, and in general in texts where the erotic element is in the foreground, however, it will be necessary to determine at which stage of the locus amoenus theme’s long evolution our Petronian lines should be located. We have proved, I believe, that the area described at 131.8 is not a natural, though idealized, grove, but is part of Circe’s private park: its pines, as we have seen,65 are trimmed to make them acquire a regular shape.66 We are far removed, then, from Lucretius’ description of an ideal landscape the poet opposes to the artificiality of the city at the beginning of his second book.67 At any rate, the ideal landscape may purport, down to late antiquity, to be natural (even though its amenity is always and exclusively appraised on the basis of human appreciation), like, e.g., Tiberianus’ Amnis, or the description we shall soon encounter in Reposianus; but intrinsically, and from the very beginning, it admits man’s intervention nevertheless. In Homer this aspect is predominant, for example, in the description of Alcinous’ park and abode;68 but even Calypso’s cave, though surrounded by natural forests and meadows, has a domesticated vine loaded with bunches of grapes at the entrance;69 and in the celebrated Phaedrus passage we have repeatedly mentioned, the sacred, but at the same time humanized, character of the place is emphasized through the presence of sculptures.70 In Achilles Tatius and in Longus the locus amoenus descriptions we have repeatedly referred to never concern natural areas, but always grounds arranged 65 66 67

    68 69 70

    234

    Cf. above, text to note 55. As remarked by Stöcker 1969, 41; Courtney 2001, 196. Lucr. 2.23-33. Significantly, Lucretius’ praise of rural simplicity and his criticism of artificial luxury take the form of a refusal of the very tokens of opulence described by Homer in his celebrated depiction of Alcinous’ abode (Od. 7.84-102) preceding that of his famous orchard – a text which gave the cue to many subsequent descriptions of the locus amoenus, in which the human and artificial element is from the very beginning tightly intertwined with the natural one, and sometimes takes the upper hand, as in this famous Homeric description. Cf. preceding note. Hom. 5.68-69. For the mixing of the natural and the human element in Homer cf. Schönbeck 1969, 1. Plat. Phaedr. 230b. Cf. above, note 43.

    Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) and adjusted by human care, generally private gardens;71 and the same applies to Alciphron’s and Aristaenetus’ epistles we have also repeatedly mentioned. Short of one exception, these idealized spaces make provision for both useful plants (e.g. fruit trees) and exclusively ornamental vegetation.72 In Petronius, by contrast, all plants exclusively serve the purpose of ornament. It will be no chance that this happens in a place whose erotic connotation is in the foreground, a dignus amore locus. This is matched by what we find in the texts we have just mentioned: it is among the places characterized in a way comparable to this (i.e. as fit for love) that we find the one locus amoenus possessing no useful plants73 and one in which these are pointedly marginalized.74 We should lay emphasis, however, on the fact that though in Petronius artificiality has already unquestionably gained the upper hand, we are still a long way from the level it will reach in Statius and in Pliny.75 In our poem nature is adapted, not strained and forced to become totally subservient to art, like in these authors; much less is it completely replaced by art, as is the case in Petronius’ contemporary Calpurnius Siculus.76 Petronius’ verse description is surely far removed from the attitude of another of his contemporaries: Seneca. The latter reacts against the taste for artificiality of his times in the name of a return to nature and simplicity.77 At any rate, in Petronius, though art imitates and adapts nature, it does not replace it completely. The swallows and nightingales inhabiting Circe’s park may harbor the impression to be in their natural habitat: sua rura (v. 8), even though the rura, either fruitful or ornamental, could by now be no more than a wealthy urban domus’ appendage.78 71

    72

    73 74

    75 76 77

    78

    Ach. Tat. 1.15; Long. Soph. 2.3.2-5; 4.2-3. Only Ach. Tat. 1.2.3 seems to describe a public park. As remarked by Schönbeck 1962, 167-172, descriptions of this type were from comparatively early times influenced by those of Persian and Oriental . In Long. Soph. 4.2.2-4 fruit trees are even carefully distinguished from purely ornamental ones. The ornamental function, though not exclusive as in Petronius, tends to become predominant in Ach. Tat. 1.15 and Alciphr. 3.13.1 (below, note 74). In Ach. Tat. 1.2.3, which describes a public park, the only plants are sycamores. Ach. Tat. 1.2.3 # Alciphr. 4.13.1 + * . Also the ground described by Aristaen. 1.3 is nothing but an For the descriptions of the villa as a purely artificial locus amoenus in Plin. ep. 2.7; 5.6 and Stat. silv. 1.3; 2.2; 3.1 see Newlands 1984, 123-163. Cf. Newlands 1984, 164-172, especially on Calp. Sic. 7. Cf. Setaioli 2007, 52-55. Seneca, for example, does not appreciate the artificial grottoes found in Roman gardens (ep. 41.3), whereas in Calpurnius Siculus even a natural cave seems to imitate those dug out in Roman gardens to resemble a tortoise shell (Calp. Sic. 4.69 imminet exesa veluti testudine concha). Seneca also criticizes the use of precious materials to make floors (ep. 86.7 nisi gemmas calcare nolimus), which elicits Statius’ admiration (silv. 1.3.53 calcabam necopinus opes). Cf. ch. XX n. 33. Cf. Mart. 8.68.1-2, quoted above, note 28. 235

    Chapter XVI It is in fact a serious mistake to believe79 the quality of rus to be unfit for the locus amoenus, which, as we have pointed out, can be described as such ever since Homer. It is true that in Petronius this quality is not immediately apparent, since both fruit trees (as opposed to purely ornamental plants)80 and tame birds (as opposed to wild ones)81 are missing; and by naming only violets (v. 8) he dodges the opposition between natural and cultivated flowers we find in Longus.82 Surely, however, this is a park in which human presence is pervasive, even though nature, which has been affected by the human hands who trimmed the pines, is not yet forced to become a purely and unmistakably artificial garden. It cannot of course be denied that the resulting rura are fit both for the silvestris aedon and for the urbana Procne; in fact, if – as we saw – our poem is still a long way from the level of artificiality reached by Pliny and Statius, it is undoubtedly true that some symptoms are already there: to use Pliny’s words, we already perceive that we are on the way to a in opere urbanissimo… velut inlati ruris imitatio.83 Petronius’ locus amoenus, however, manages to keep a subtle and refined – if precarious – balance between natural and artificial, wild and domesticated, which does not yet entail, as it soon will happen at Rome, the unambiguous triumph of the second element over the first, nor their explicit distinction and separation that appears in the Greek novelists and letter writers. It is surely straining the text, then, to see in the opposition of the two birds, marked by the epithets accompanying them (silvestris/urbana), the indication of an alleged double aspect of Petronius’ locus amoenus, supposedly joining wild nature and humanized garden, respectively symbolized by the nightingale and the swallow, while excluding the intermediate state represented by the rus.84 It is easy to answer that wild birds appear in any locus amoenus, even in the most artificial – even in the one described by Achilles Tatius, boasting tame birds like peacocks, swans, and parrots;85 actually, it is precisely in this most artificial locus amoenus that the swallow, denoted by the same mythological reference we find in Petronius, is expressly marked out as a wild creature – clearly showing that a symbolism associating the swallow with the artificial locus amoenus only is to79 80 81 82 83

    84 85

    236

    As done by Campana 2007: cf. above, note 28. Unlike what we find in the texts by Achilles Tatius, Longus, Alciphron, and Aristaenetus quoted in notes 71, 72, and 74. Unlike what we read in Ach. Tat. 1.15.7-8. Long. 4.2.6. Here violets are clearly wild; but they are clearly cultivated in Plin. ep. 2.17.17. Plin. ep. 5.6.35; cf. Stat. silv. 2.2.30-31 inde per obliquas erepit porticus arces / urbis opus. Pliny’s text amounts to a further proof of the fact that the rus – of course in its contrived and artificial version – could be at home even in the most unnatural locus amoenus. As done by Campana 2007, 117. Ach. Tat. 1.15.8.

    Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) tally groundless.86 The epithet urbana, no doubt harking back to Ovid,87 and the opposed but complementary silvestris are surely charged with a pregnancy of meaning, but it refers to the uneasy balance of wild and domesticated we have tried to describe, in which an already deeply humanized nature is not yet totally crushed under the weight of an all-encompassing artificiality. The most illuminating parallel is provided by Aristaenetus, where the nightingales’ and the other birds’ melodious song in a totally humanized locus amoenus is conceived not as their natural behavior, but as their way to keep company with people.88 In Petronius, by contrast, the birds live in a countryside that is still, or purports to be, their own (sua rura). 5. The association of locus amoenus and love, though not ubiquitous nor automatic, is nevertheless absolutely natural, and appears since the earliest times. For example, the erotic role played by the ideal landscape in Zeus’ and Hera’s lovemaking described in Iliad 14 is quite clear89 – an episode Petronius clearly had in mind while describing Encolpius’ and Circe’s first tryst,90 which is complementary to the second (the context in which our poem appears) and, as we have seen, must almost certainly be set in the same place. After Homer the function of the locus amoenus as the setting for love adventures is apparent in Greek and Roman pastoral poetry as well as in elegy.91 Already in Plato’s Phaedrus the discussion Phaedrus and Socrates engage in in the locus amoenus is focused on love,92 and the recollection of this celebrated text is clearly perceptible in the Greek authors we have referred to, for example in Achilles Tatius, where a locus amoenus is deemed “worthy of talks on love”.93 Even closer to Petronius’ formulation (dignus amore locus, v. 6) are Aristaenetus and Alciphron, who respec-

    86 87 88

    89

    90 91 92 93

    Ach. Tat. 1.15.7-8 … * , + . Cf. Ov. met. 6.668-669 altera silvas, / altera tecta petit; Aetna 586-588 Philomela canoris / evocat in silvis, at tu, soror, hospita tectis / acciperis. Aristaen. 1.3 ! % As emphasized by Haß 1998, 28, who brings back to that episode both of Circe’s and Encolpius’ encounters in the Satyrica (in her work the locus amoenus descriptions are arranged on the basis of their alleged derivation from passages of Homer and – in one case – of Hesiod. The scene in Iliad 14 gave rise, according to her, to the descriptions in which the locus amoenus has an erotic function, like in Petronius, as well as to those implying a deception similar to Hera’s). Cf. also Drago 2007, 123. See ch. XIV. See e.g. Pennacini 1974. Cf. e.g. Haß 1998, 31-34; Drago 2007, 125, with the literature quoted and discussed. Cf. Ach. Tat. 1.2.3 (quoted above, note 73). The association of locus amoenus and love is current in the Greek novel. Cf. e.g. Rindi 1980, 126; Campana 2007, 115-116. 237

    Chapter XVI tively ascribe the quality of to the locus amoenus itself ( ) and to its owner.94 It is easy to realize that this formulation – dignus amore locus, which is not attested anywhere else in Latin before Petronius95 – is the mark toward which the whole poem tends. Ancient readers too were aware of this, witness the fact that the expression was picked up in late antiquity by Reposianus, to characterize the locale of Venus’ and Mars’ amorous encounter.96 The influence of the locus amoenus theme was so powerful that Reposianus did not hesitate to move the two deities’ love trysts, which in Homer took place indoors,97 to the midst of nature,98, although of course nature is subjected to the goddess’ amorous desires and is actually reduced to a setting created by her for the purpose.99 In this little poem the locus amoenus tends to become identified with a locus amoris, actually with the lucus Veneris, as expressly emphasized by the author.100 Reposianus gave proof of keen perspicacity in detecting this clear tendency already in our Petronian poem, to which he referred by quoting these crucial words. The first plant mentioned by Petronius in our poem is the sycamore, whose erotic symbolism is well-known, as already remarked by González de Salas;101 and we should recall that both times Encolpius’ and Circe’s love encounters begin in a sycamore grove, a platanon.102 The sycamore appears in a great number of loca amoena connected with love, from Plato to Achilles Tatius and beyond; but here we should more than anything call attention to the fact that the sender of Aristaenetus’ repeatedly quoted letter 1.3, in which the locus amoenus is all but fused with the “meadow of love”,103 is called Philoplatanos, “lover of sycamores”.

    94 95 96

    97 98 99 100 101

    102 103

    238

    Aristaen. 1.3 and Alciphr. 4.13.1, quoted above (note 74). There is, however, dignus amore: cf. the texts adduced by Cristante 1999, 59. Reposian. conc. Mart. et Ven. 44 dignus amore locus, cui sint tot munera rerum. Cristante 1999, 60 has proved that Reposianus has not only our Petronian poem in mind, but also the complementary one at Petr. 127.9, with the immediate context. Hom. Od. 8.266-366. Many of the typical elements of the locus amoenus are expressly mentioned: trees, grass, flowers, fruit. Reposian. conc. Mart. et Ven. 47 deliciis Veneris dives natura laborat; 50 hunc solum Paphie, puto, lucum fecit amori. Reposian. conc. Mart. et Ven. 50 (quoted in the preceding note); 60 sic decet in Veneris luco gaudere puellas. Ap. Burman 1743, II, 268. González de Salas is also the first to refer to the myth of Zeus and Europa, who, according to legend, consummated their love under a sycamore on Crete – a myth often quoted afterwards in this connection. Petr. 126.12; 131.1 (quoted above, notes 33-34). Cf. Drago 2007, 122, with the literature quoted and discussed.

    Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) We now understand why Venus is present and has a temple in the place of Encolpius’ and Circe’s first encounter104 and why it is impossible to separate it from the second encounter’s location. 6. So far we have been trying to determine in what type of literary tradition our poem belongs, at which evolutionary stage it must be placed in relation to both aesthetic taste and literary application, and what role it plays in connection with Encolpius’ and Circe’s preceding tryst, including the poem at 127.9. It is now time to tackle what is perhaps the thorniest problem: its function in the context of the episode in which it occurs. Petronius’ readers are well used to witness the vanishing – not rarely in a sudden and pitiless fashion – of Encolpius’ poetic and literary dreams when they come to grips with reality’s squalor. In the impotence episode, in particular, the loftiness of the literary models underlying almost all of the verse intermezzos is punctually and consistently desecrated through the ridiculous denouement following in the prose. This time too Petronius means to parody and desecrate a widespread literary topic, which incidentally had been incorporated in all seriousness in the Greek love novels. The parodic intention, however, is seldom perceptible within the poems themselves, if separated from the prose context. The question we must ask ourselves now is whether this applies to our poem too, or the verse itself already contains some hints pointing to the unhappy conclusion of the tryst, thus shedding a parodic light on the very description of this locus amoenus with its idyllic details. Curtius105 regarded our poem as the first instance of an autonomous ekphrasis in which the description of the locus amoenus constitutes an end to itself. This is surely correct from the formal point of view, if we consider the poem at 131.8 in its nature of verse composition which distinguishes it from the surrounding prose.106 But if we did not proceed any farther, we would totally miss Petronius’ fine literary play. According to some107 the incompleteness of the text makes it impossible to grasp our poem’s relation to the story, but in my opinion the reader, who has already been warned by the outcome of the first encounter and already expects a similar failure even in the midst of this idyllic locus amoenus, could hardly detach this verse from the prose context.108 The real problem, it should once more be emphasized, is to ascertain whether there is 104 105 106

    107

    108

    Cf. Petr. 127.9.6 (quoted above, note 42); 128.4 (above, note 41) Curtius 1948, 202. Mattiacci 1990, 79, 82-83 believes Tiberianus’ Amnis to be a complete verse composition, like Petr. 131.8, but, again like the Petronian poem, to belong to a much more extensive (lost) contest made up of verse and prose. So Rindi 1980, 127. MacL. Currie 1960 appears not to have understood Curtius’ position, when he opposes to Petr. 131.8 an earlier Latin locus amoenus description (Prop. 4.9.23-30), which is not an autonomous text, but is part of a larger poetic context. On this I agree with Campana 2007, 113 n. 2. 239

    Chapter XVI something in the verse itself parodically anticipating an unhappy outcome bound to fly in the face of the expectations raised by the place’s amenity, or the parodic intention is revealed solely in the following prose. According to several scholars there is nothing in the dignus amore locus foreshadowing a less than happy ending.109 One of the few exceptions to this attitude seems to be Catherine Connors, who sees negative and menacing hints in the poem’s every detail.110 The least groundless of her remarks seems the one concernig Procne’s and Philomela’s tragic loves:111 an allusion which can hardly be taken as a good omen for the fate of Circe’s and Ecolpius’ love; in fact this had been emphasized even before Connors.112 A further mythological allusion interpreted as a bad omen by Connors – the reference to Apollo’s unhappy love for Daphne – had also been already regarded as such.113 In my opinion we should not make too much of mythological allusions: Latin poets are used to designate a great variety of objects through their mythological referents, not necessarily implying more or less concealed meanings by doing so. There is a detail, however, who seems to have escaped all scholars’ attention. As we have seen, the poem culminates in applying to the locus amoenus the definition of dignus amore locus; immediately after, as to reinforce the statement, the poet appeals to the testimony of the birds that live in it and honor it with their song. The birds’ singing, as we have seen, was topical in descriptions 109

    110

    111

    112 113

    240

    Sochatoff 1969-1970, 340 emphasizes the pleasant effect of the visual and aural evocations of the poem; he does not pose the problem of the function of Petronius’ description, but appears to believe that there is nothing threatening or foreboding in the poem. According to Slater 1990a, 175 the comic effect begins only with the comparison with the following prose. A similar opinion is expressed by Stöcker 1969, 42-43; Mattiacci 1990, 83; Adamietz 1995, 322; Aragosti 1995, 493 n. 387. Connors 1998, 71-72. According to her laurel and cypress hint at Apollo’s unhappy loves, the pine at one of Pan’s; Procne and Philomela had tragic love experiences; the brook tortures (vexabat) the pebbles and complains (querulus); the mobilis sycamore should be seen as a hint at love’s inconstancy. According to Haß 1998, 29 the parodic intention is revealed by the excessive heaping of pleasant details. In Petr. 131.8.7 urbana Procne is undoubtedly the swallow (cf. Ov. met. 6.668-669; Aetna 586-588, quoted above, note 87). The reading apparently going back to L (silvestris hirundo, v. 6) is therefore to be rejected, since the swallow appears in the following line. Silvestris (silvester) aedon, then, is an all but certain correction; cf. Sen. Agam. 671; Calp. Sic. 6.8. See Cavalca 2001, 26. It is very unlikely that aedon should be taken as a proper name (as done by Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 134, who write Aedon; cf. also Cavalca 2001, 26 n. 4), as a reference to the myth of Aedon (on which see Monella 2005, 17-28, 196). Petronius surely refers to the legend of Procne, Philomela, and Tereus. For the versions and the evolution of this myth see Casanova 2006. E.g. by Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 136 n. 2. Subsequently also by Campana 2007, 118 n. 12. By Borghini 1988, 386-387; Borghini 1996, 23-26. According to Borghini the sycamore portends a happy outcome, the laurel (Daphne) a failure.

    Love in an Ideal Landscape (Petr. 131.8) of the locus amoenus. To introduce the mention of birds and their song Petronius would have had no need to appeal to them as witnesses; this detail, in fact, seems to be unparalleled in descriptions of this type. According to Christopher Stöcker114 this is a hardly successful device to introduce the theme of living beings which traditionally populate the locus amoenus. In my opinion it is much likelier that allocating the function to bear witness to the place’s suitability for love not just to any two birds, but to two mythological characters transformed into birds owing to their tragic erotic experiences should be taken to amount to a deliberate desecration and to a Petronian sneer at the well-worn literary topoi his protagonist never tires of referring to.

    114

    Stöcker 1969, 42. 241

    Chapter XVII A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15)* Quid me constricta spectatis fronte, Catones, damnatisque novae simplicitatis opus? Sermonis puri non tristis gratia ridet, quodque facit populus, candida lingua refert. Nam quis concubitus, Veneris quis gaudia nescit? Quis vetat in tepido membra calere toro? Ipse pater veri doctos Epicurus amare . iussit et hanc vitam dixit habere

    5

    L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 6 vetat Dousa: petat 7 doctos… amare Canterus: doctus in arte (defendunt Pellegrino, Raith, V. Gigante, Barbieri) 8 hoc lmgpO: hanc lt Samb. Scaliger: hic r telos lmgtmgpB: deos lrtR Samb. Scaliger: cedos P

    1. These four elegiac couplets1 are regarded by many scholars as a serious statement, on the part of the author of the Satyrica, of the governing principles and the goals of his work.2 Others, even in recent times, have attempted in dif*

    1

    2

    A version of this chapter has appeared with the title Il novae simplicitatis opus (Sat. 132.15.2) e la poetica petroniana, “Prometheus 23, 1997, 145-164; see also Cinque poesie petroniane (Sat. 82.5, 83.10, 108.14, 126.18, 132.15), “Prometheus” 24, 1998, 217-242 (pp. 237-239), and La poesia in Petr. Sat. 128,6 (con una postilla su 132,15), “Invigilata Lucernis” 21, 1999, 399-416 (pp. 412-415). A formal parallel is found in Petr. fr. 41.3-4 Müller sermonis gratia, risus / vincunt naturae candidioris opus. This poem (AL 477 Shackleton Bailey) was attributed to Petronius himself by Scaliger. At least since Collignon 1892, 53-55; then, among others, Stubbe 1933, 151-154; Paratore 1933, II, 418-419; Sullivan 1968, 98 ff.; Gagliardi 1980, 127-128; Courtney 1991, 10, 35; Courtney 2001, 199-201; Richlin 19922, 5-6; Scarsi 1996, 230-231 n. 4; Bracht

    Chapter XVII ferent ways and from different standpoints to deny the poem this especially meaningful function;3 it will be necessary, therefore, to assess the soundness of the latter opinion before proceeding to the detailed analysis of the text, and to see whether the traditional arguments in favor of this poem’s “programmatic” function can be reinforced with new reasons. There is no doubt that the verse at 132.15 must be placed on a level that is different from all other literary pronouncements found in the Satyrica,4 in that it concerns not poetry or rhetoric in the abstract, but the narrator’s very expression, his sermo, which nobody can deny to coincide with the text of the novel. To this, regarded as an autonomous literary work, the poem clearly alludes through the term opus, as already pointed out a long time ago.5 That opus may be understood in this way has been resolutely denied by Soverini,6 who takes it to mean “effect” or “indication” and to be devoid of any literary implication: acording to him the Catones are shocked by a behavior revealing Encolpius’ simplicitas. The suggestion is brilliant, but despite the emphasis laid on behaviors rather than on their literary representation,7 it amounts to a simple variant of Beck’s interpretation, since the character’s simplicitas al-

    3

    4

    5

    6 7

    244

    Branham-Kinney 1997, 139 n. 1; Vergé-Borderolle 1999, 5, 8; Crogliano 2003b, 150; apparently also Walsh 1970, 106. E.g. Rankin 1971; Zeitlin 1971b, 676; Barnes 1971, 254-274; Gill 1973, 182-185; Beck 1973, 50-54; Slater 1990a, 129; 165-166; Panayotakis 1995, 175-176; Sommariva 1996, 56-57 (for whom see below, § 5); Connors 1998, 72 n. 57; Yeh 2007, 553-556 (on pp. 499-502 Yeh offers a metrical analysis stressing the holospondaic character of the first two hexameters). None of these scholars offers any compelling arguments going beyond mere assertions (e.g. Connors, l.c.: “clearly it is best to read this poem within the frame of Encolpius’ character”). Plaza 2000, 198-202 tries, as she often does, to reconcile the two conflicting interpretations. Soverini 1985, in the last pages of his work, correctly separates 132.15 from the other statements about literature found in the novel and emphasizes the author’s personal agreement with the need for expressive simplicitas advocated in this poem (p. 1777). I do not wish to tackle the thorny problem of the relation of the literary statements by the various characters of the Satyrica to Petronius’ own ideas; it appears to be a simplification, however, to ascribe to the latter all pronouncements revealing good taste and to his characters what appears to be hackneyed or commonplace (p. 1749). At any rate, Soverini’s refutation of Gill 1973 (p. 1777 n. 376) and Beck 1973 (p. 1777 n. 376) is undoubtedly well-founded. Collignon 1892, 54 rightly remarks that this term can hardly apply to Encolpius’ immediately preceding declamation; Stubbe 1933, 153 takes it to mean “literary genre” and refers to Quint. 10.1.67 and 69. According to Barnes 1971, 257-258 opus refers to the “theme” of the episode, but the references he adduces (Quint. 10.1.67 and 69; Verg. Aen. 7.44-45; Petr. 118.6, cf. 89.1) always imply the literary elaboration of a theme, as Barnes himself must admit. For opus see further text to notes 14-16 and notes 22, 50, 86. Soverini 1997, 465-466. And despite Soverini’s justified criticisms of Beck (cf. above, note 4)

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) legedly manifests itself in Encolpius’ outburst in the prose preceding the poem, to which, as we shall see, Beck implausibly refers the term opus. Besides, Soverini’s perplexity8 in relation to a genitive of quality (novae simplicitatis) used to describe a literary work’s characteristics is hardly justified, in view of the perfectly fitting parallel found at the beginning of the preserved part of the novel:9 schedium Lucilianae humilitatis, surely referring to a verse composition. Soverini correctly emphasizes the unity of the whole context and the links connecting Encolpius’ outburst with the verse, as well as its relation to the character’s plight at the moment.10 But if this were the only level of meaning, why should Encolpius feel the need to justify his private outburst that has not been witnessed by anyone in the novelistic fiction?11 Clearly, the literary elaboration and the presentation to an audience of listeners or readers of what at the fictional level is a character’s private outburst is supposed here; and quite as clearly the verse defense of the same outburst is addressed to the same audience. This defense surely applies to the particular situation, though, as we said, it concerns Encolpius’ own sermo, which can be exemplified by his previous outburst, but can and should be extended to the whole work, as we shall try to illustrate. If we take opus in the meaning suggested by Soverini, the simplicitas would be a personal quality of Encolpius’ manifesting itself in this particular occasion. But what is referred to here is not simplicitas in general, but a specific nova simplicitas: if Encolpius were speaking as a private individual, and as a simple character rather than the narrator, he would be opposing his own person and behavior to a century-old tradition, implicitly represented as a prisca simplicitas personified by the figures of the Catos. It seems much more natural to think that he is speaking as the representative of a whole new trend, which appears to be consciously opposed to the old tradition and to define the innovative character of Petronius’ work. In other words, the reference to the literary work we are reading (which undoubtedly coincides with the narrator Encolpius’ way of expressing himself) appears to be much more meaningful than one concerning (only) Encolpius as an individual in a given situation, as though his way to tell the story had nothing to do with the novel’s text.12 8 9 10 11 12

    Soverini 1997, 465. Petr. 4.5. See ch. I. Soverini 1997, 463. Soverini 1997, 466 must himself admit that Encolpius is speaking to an “immaginario uditorio” and to “ipotetici ‘spettatori’”, i.e. concede that the stage illusion is broken. Soverini 1997, 466 n. 26 must concede that the suppression of this opposition amounts to a net impoverishment. He believes (p. 467) Encolpius’ simplicitas to be nova simply because he extends to his sexual organ the widespread habit to address any malfunctioning part of the body, and accepts, with some adjustments, the interpretation given by Beck 1973, 54 of quodque facit populus (v. 4): see below, note 22. As we shall see, these words must rather be taken as an allusion to sex, that the nova simplicitas has no qualms about representing in literature. 245

    Chapter XVII This danger is carefully avoided by Conte,13 who takes our poem to be a literary manifesto, but refers it not to Petronius (the “hidden author”) but to Encolpius himself, represented as a literary mythomaniac out of touch with reality. According to Conte Encolpius presents his narrative (i.e. the Satyrica) as an opus, a literary work;14 he also admits that the verse moves from the specific situation to the general justification of the portrayal of sex in literature. Conte detects an inconsistency in this transition; but why could it not be Petronius’ way to connect the particular episode with a general statement applying not merely to the latter, but to his work in general? Unless we suppose that in the lost part (possibly at the beginning of the story) Encolpius explicitly presented himself not as the mere narrator of his own adventures but as the author of a formal autobiography, i.e. of the written report of his story coinciding with the text of the novel,15 how can we admit without straining the text that opus refers not to the work of the author (Petronius) but to the report of the narrator and that the latter puts forward a “programmatic” statement referring to his tale but not to the literary work coinciding with it?16 Oskar Raith17 seems to be closer to the truth; he believes this verse to be at the same time the outpouring of the character Encolpius in the specific situation, a statement by Encolpius as narrator and so fictional “author” of the novel, and, through him, the declaration of the real author: Petronius.18 2. It is difficult to understand how one of the scholars that most resolutely deny this poem’s programmatic function can assert that this interpretation is supported by no evidence in the text,19 into which, according to him, it introduces a breach entailing disastrous implications for Petronius’ narrative technique.20 Quite the opposite seems to be the case. 13

    14 15

    16

    17 18 19 20

    246

    Conte 1996, 187-194; cf. 25 n. 27. Conte 1996, 189: “his creation”. This idea was put forward by Courtney 1991, 13, though he finally rejected it as needlessly complicated. He later changed his mind (Courtney 2001, 200), but continued to defend the “programmatic” character of 132.15. In reality, even if we suppose Encolpius to be writing a formal “autobiography” and the statement at 132.15 to refer to this, the stage illusion would still be broken and it would not be explained why such a statement occurs only once and at this very place (cf. also Soverini 1997, 464). As we shall see, the blending of reality and literature, which for Conte 1996, 191 is the result of Encolpius’ mythomania only, seems here also to refer to the two main ingredients of the Satyrica: “realism” and literary parody. Raith 1963, 44. His attempt to pass the poem off as a consistently Epicurean composition is less convincing. According to Pellegrino 1975, 432 this poem actually mirrors “una concezione etica dell’esistenza che interessa l’uomo ancor prima del letterato”. Beck 1973, 50. Beck 1973, 51.

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) As far as the second point is concerned, it is indeed Beck who, to defend his standpoint, must assume an unlikely lacuna in the text of the poem,21 and in general his attempt paradoxically turns into a confirmation that a position denying that our verse amounts to a literary pronouncement concerning Petronius’ own work is hardly tenable.22 As far as the alleged lack of evidence in Petronius’ text is concerned, we must stress that, on the contrary, the context offers a whole series of literary references and ideas culminating in the verse as a natural development. Far from producing a breach, the literary pronouncement in the verse sheds light on the preceding prose and is in turn clarified by it.23 The whole passage from 132.12 to 132.16 can be read as a consistent and sophisticated literary manifesto finely and comprehensively illustrating the goals and characteristics of Petronius’ work.24 Surely Petronius’ literary skill succeeds in having our poem and its context fit the tragicomic situation of his protagonist and the more detached standpoint of his narrator as well;25 but the transition to the wider range of a programmatic statement is as natural as it is all but insensible. The severioris notae homines mentioned by the narrator Encolpius26 just before his second speech immediately preceding the verse anticipate the latter’s Catones, although they do not yet imply all the complex web of references we shall detect in the poem; but, already shortly before, his allusion to his own speech (or rather to his way of

    21

    22

    23 24

    25 26

    Beck 1973, 54, denying, as he does, the existence in the poem of any reference not connected with the specific narrated situation, must assume a lacuna between lines 4 and 5, in order to rule out an apology of the novel’s sexually-oriented content and language: a case of begging the question. See following note. The assumption of the lacuna is rejected even by a denier of the poem’s programmatic function: Slater 1990a, 129 n. 31. Beck 1973 must take opus (v. 2) as an implausible reference not to the Satyrica as a literary work, but only to Encolpius’ outburst in the preceding paragraphs (p. 52); but there is no instance in which opus is used with no literary implication in reference to a short speech or monologue like Encolpius’. In addition Beck is forced to rule out this poem’s obvious meaning as a vindication of the freedom to describe sex in literature, and to refer quodque facit populus (v. 4) solely to the habit of addressing sick parts of the body hinted at at 132.4 (p. 54). As we shall see later, this reference is not alltogether impossible in itself, but the one to sex is undoubtedly foremost. It is clear that the idea of a lacuna between the prose and the poem assumed by Collignon 1892, 53-54 is totally groundless. Barnes 1971, 266 n. 3, 267 n. 4 assumes the poem to be out of place; in particular, according to him, 133.1-2 should precede 132.15. This is not only groundless, but needlessly confusing too. A similar suggestion, at any rate, was already in Collignon 1892, 53-54. Cf. e.g. Barbieri 1983, 48. Petr. 132.12. 247

    Chapter XVII speaking)27 touches the level of expression – and undoubtedly of literary expression. As we have already pointed out, if Encolpius were referring only to his private outburst in the narrated situation, in which he is alone, why should he need to regret and justify a sermo not witnessed by anybody? It is obvious that what is supposed here is the literary elaboration made known to readers or listeners, and that the protagonist-narrator’s apology, ostensibly addressed to himself, is in reality directed to this audience; and this sermo, which at first – and to traditonal addressees – may appear unseemly and improper, is really nothing but one instance of that very sermo purus whose gratia smiles at the reader in the verse. There is more. In Encolpius’ second prose speech the two references to common people’s behavior28 serve as a frame enclosing two others whose referent is clearly literary: no less than the Odyssey and tragic poetry.29 It is well-known that the Odyssey underlies the whole of what we can read of the Satyrica;30 it is surely not unexpected that Encolpius should pick up Ulysses’ famous address to his own heart, naturally shifting it to the mentula, just as so many of his and his companions’ adventures recall and desecrate those described in the Odyssey; but the explicit mention of the Homeric model leaves no doubt that the reference here is to Encolpius’ sermo elaborated as literary work. The other literary reference, the one to tragedy, points in the same direction. Parody of tragedy is frequent in the Satyrica;31 but what matters even more is that the term tragoedia refers to the adventures of the novel’s characters in situations perfectly comparable to the one described in our context: in one case the tragoedia consists in complaining about bodily malfunctions;32 in another the 27

    28

    29

    30 31

    32

    248

    Petr. 132.12 paenitentiam agere mei sermonis coepi. At the immediate level the reference is to Encolpius’ previous outburst at 132.9-10 (cf. tam foeda obiurgatione finita); but it is difficult to think that the term sermo does not imply a more general meaning (or that the reference does not concern his Virgilian cento at 132.11 too). Petr. 132.13 aut quid est quod in corpore humano ventri male dicere solemus aut gulae capitique etiam, cum saepius dolet?… 14 podagrici pedibus suis male dicunt, chiragrici manibus, lippi oculis, et qui offenderunt saepe digitos, quicquid doloris habent in pedes deferunt. Petr.132.13 quid? Non et Ulyxes cum corde litigat suo, et quidam tragici oculos suos tamquam audientes castigant? Cf. Hom. Od. 20.13-22 and Soph. Oed. tyr.1268-1276, Philoct. 1354-1356 respectively. Cf. e.g. Sullivan 1968, 42, 76-78, 92-96. See Panayotakis 1995, 154, 182-184. One text may be added to those quoted by Panayotakis: Petr. 117.10 ne quid scaenae deesset (where the scaena is one and the same with the tragoedia of 140.6). Petr. 140.6 podagricum se esse lumborumque solutorum omnibus dixerat, et si non servasset integram simulationem, periclitabatur totam paene tragoediam evertere (cf. 117.9-10 imperamus Eumolpo ut plurimum tussiat, ut sit solutioris stomachi cibosque omnes palam damnet… ne quid scaenae deesset…).

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) protagonist of the tragoedia is the mentula herself, that, like in our context,33 is threatened with castration.34 The desecration of tragedy resembles that of the Odyssey; in addition, in both cases the “theatrical” aspect of tragedy is emphasized: tragedy is nothing but false and deceptive pretense. Clearly the reference to tragedy, like that to the Odyssey, symbolizes a perfectly recognizable ingredient of Petronius’ novel. These literary references, as we have already hinted, are enclosed between two remarks concerning common people’s daily life: not merely epic and tragic heroes, but ordinary people too abusively address their limbs if they are affected by some disease. This too is clearly paralleled in Petronius’ work: the commonplace and prosaic complaint affecting Trimalchio35 is the one best fitting this character among those mentioned in our text,36 and, conceivably not by chance, coincides with the first of the list. We may surmise that the author is once more alluding to his own work; and the association of these commonplace details with the references to the Odyssey and to tragedy reveals a full consciousness on his part of the clever blending of the “literary” and parodic component with the mimetic and “realistic” one, which are inextricably intertwined in the novel. 3. The poem purports to be a defense against criticisms of lewdness in literature as exemplified by this episode, which might be leveled at a work like Petronius’ in the name of the uncompromising attitude of Roman traditional ethics symbolized by the figure of Cato.37 The attitude of those who raised these criticisms is implicitly defined as tristis, the quality to which Petronius opposes the gratia of his sermo purus.38 The question of whether the sermo purus should be ascribed 33 34

    35

    36 37

    38

    Petr. 132.8. See ch. IV. Petr. 108.10-11 tunc fortissimus Giton ad virilia sua admovit novaculam, minatus se abscisurum tot miseriarum causam… audacius tamen ille tragoediam implebat, quia sciebat se illam habere novaculam, qua iam sibi cervicem praeciderat. Petr. 47.2 multis iam diebus venter mihi non respondit, with the whole context. Further characters complaining about health problems are Plocamus (64.3: his complaint is podagra) and Quartilla (17.7-8). Petr. 132.13-14 lists complaints of venter, gula, caput, pedes, manus, oculi, digiti. Though the old Censor may be implied too, the primary reference, as we shall see, is to the younger Cato. Raith 1970, 144 believes the name to be merely symbolic and inquiring about the exact reference to be idle. In reality the figures of the two Catos could easily be superposed to each other, especially when, like here, the plural was employed (cf. Pecchiura 1965, 96). See also Barbieri 1983, 32-33. On the younger Cato’s legend see Goar 1987. It is not true, at any rate, that people like this poem’s Catones only existed in Encolpius’ mind at this time, as assumed by Conte 1996, 192-194. See below, § 8. And the sentence at 132.16 seems to be a dash at the hypocrisy condemning the literary autonomy vindicated in the poem, rather the author’s derision of Encolpius’ pretentious poses, as suggested by Conte 1996, 187 n. 26. There is no doubt, in my opinion, that non tristis should be referred to gratia. Stubbe 1933, 153 left it undecided whether it should be referred to gratia or to sermonis. Bickel 249

    Chapter XVII to Encolpius or directly to the author is immaterial, since Encolpius’s expression coincides with the text of the novel. The same adjective, tristis, or related words, are often referred to the supercilious austerity of rigorous moralists, particularly the Stoics, not rarely with literary implications.39 From the very beginning, then, Petronius opposes Stoicism, and in particular, as we shall see, the idea that literature should be morally useful,40 as also confirmed by the final reference to Epicurus. The key word of Petronius’ stand is simplicitas.41 According to Tacitus this quality was rightly or wrongly ascribed to the Petronius that today is almost universally identified with the author of the Satyrica.42 The term primarily denotes the quality opposite to “duplicity” and can therefore be rendered with “frankness”, “sincerity”, “spontaneity”, “straightforwardness”, “candor”. Its most

    39

    40

    41 42

    250

    1941, 270-271 connected it with sermonis and saw in the poem an alleged opposition of sermo purus vs sermo tristis (cf. also Sage 1915, 54). Strangely enough, his interpretation has been accepted by several scholars: e.g. V. Gigante 1980, 70; Barbieri 1983, 41. Coccia 1979, 791 n. 1 is surely right when he states: “a me pare che una contrapposizione sermo purus / sermo tristis non abbia logicamente motivo di esistere” Cf. Cic. fin. 4.79 illorum (= philosophorum) tristitiam; Brut. 113 (on the Stoic Rutilius) in quodam tristi et severo genere dicendi versatus est; Quint. 11.1.33-34 (literary ornaments do not fit the philosophers’ tristitia). The adjective also appears in two texts of Martial we shall return to: Mart. 1 epist. ad lect. 12-13 si quis… tam ambitiose tristis est ut apud illum in nulla pagina Latine loqui fas sit; 11.20.2 qui tristis verba Latina legis. The opposition to Stoicizing moralism is not fully grasped by Gagliardi 1978, 115 and Gagliardi 1980, 40, who takes non tristis gratia to be tantamount to humor. Sage 1915, 54 is wrong in referring tristis to lofty style. Almost all scholars now agree in ascribing no ethical intention to the author of the Satyrica. A noteworhty attempt to prove the opposite was made by Highet 1941. See e.g.. Sullivan 1968, 106-110; also Barbieri 1983, 56-61; Soverini 1985, 1773 and n. 366, with further bibliography. An analysis of Petronius’ usage of the term in Ferrero 1980, 146-149. Tac. ann. 16.18.1 dictaque factaque eius quanto solutiora et quandam sui neglegentiam praeferentia, tanto gratius in speciem simplicitatis accipiebantur. According to Bogner 1941, 224 Tacitus refers to Petronius’ very text, though not really believing in the authenticity of Petronius’ alleged simplicitas. According to Bickel 1941, 269 the term has a different meaning in Tacitus and in Petronius. Hiltbrunner 1958, 66 n. 12 believes that in Tacitus simplicitas denotes a refined casual attitude to social conventions (only ostensible, in that it was not supported by inmost firmness). For Rankin 1971, 107 both Tacitus’ and Petronius’ sentences (in speciem simplicitatis and nova simplicitas respectively) refer to a simplicity that is anything but simple. Ferrero 1980, 149-150 n. 88 refers to Hor. c. 1.5.5 simplex munditiis, and agrees with Rankin in believing Petronius’ simplicitas to be a seemingly spontaneous but carefully controlled unaffectedness, the same as he attributes to his own literary work by opposing it to traditional values and attitudes. Coccia 1979, 797 concedes that the term has a different meaning in the historian and in the novelist, but does not rule out that the former might be acquainted with the latter’s work.

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) prominent connotation is moral, implying an absolute lack of hypocrisy. This meaning is surely foremost in our text, as confirmed by the fragment immediately following the poem,43 in which ficta severitas is resolutely condemned not merely as false pretense, but also as the utmost degree of ineptitude.44 Simplicitas was often ascribed to the early generations of Rome’s glorious past, including sometimes a reference to their manner of expression. According to Livy the sermo antiquae simplicitatis45 is a simple and straightforward expression, not devoid of naiveness, whose main characteristic is the total lack of dissimulation. In Petronius’ time the idea of this old simplicitas had been revived especially by Seneca.46 This is the first clue allowing to catch a glimpse in our poem not merely of a polemic agaist Stoicism in general, but of a specific opposition to the ideas advocated by its most prominent representative at the time. Juvenal too will refer to the priorum / scribendi… simplicitas47 to describe the frankness of those who have no fear to name the people they attack. Petronius’ simplicitas is comparable to this old one in a way, in that it proclaims to be as uninhibited; but he qualifies it through the opposite epithet: nova. The meaning of this adjective and of the iunctura nova simplicitas has been long debated. Stubbe48 believed the reference to concern the aesthetic level alone and Petronius’ “novelty” simply to consist in his profession of “realism” in literature. Bickel49 took a different stand: according to him the reference to literature only begins in the second couplet and the nova simplicitas simply implies a more uninhibited attitude to sex, in opposition to strictly traditional morals. Clearly, it is difficult to maintain that this felicitous Petronian iunctura has no connection whatsoever with literary matters, witness some scholars’ more or 43

    44

    45

    46

    47 48 49

    Petr. 132.16 nihil est hominum inepta persuasione falsius nec ficta severitate ineptior. The “circularity” of the sentence should be noted. Falsum and fictum are obviously equivalent; and if what is ineptum amounts to the highest degree of falseness, what is false conversely corresponds to the highest level of the ineptum. The interpretation of the sentence proposed by Conte 1996 187 n. 26 can hardly be accepted. Cf. above, note 37. The ficta severitas should be associated with the poem’s tristis. Tristis and severus are paired in Cic. Brut. 113 (quoted above, note 39). For the idea of the falseness and hypocrisy of this attitude cf. Mart. 11.2.3 personati fastus (en epigram that, as we shall see, echoes our Petronian poem). Liv. 40.47.3. Cf. Liv. 32.33.2 simplicem suam orationem esse etc., for which see Hiltbrunner 1958, 55, including the references to Gratt. 321 nostris quam simplex mensa Camillis and 399 priscas artes inventaque simplicis aevi. Also in connection with expression: Sen. ep. 59.6 (antiqui), qui simpliciter… eloquebantur. Cf. also ep. 95.13 simplex enim illa (= of the ancients) et aperta virtus; 95.29 (philosophia) fuit aliquando simplicior; nat. quaest. 1.17.5 aetas illa simplicior. Iuv. 1.151-153. Stubbe 1933, 153. Bickel 1941, 270. 251

    Chapter XVII less avowed return to Stubbe’s position.50 It is just as easy, however, to point out that our poem vindicates the right to an uninhibited attitude to sex in a literaure free from all hypocritical prudishness precisely on the basis of people’s practical behavior in matters of sex. Stubbe’s and Bickel’s attitudes, then are anything but irreconcilable; rather, each emphasizes an aspect essential to the correct understanding of the poem.51 Bickel52 was hardly wrong when he emphasized that Petronius’ nova simplicitas is meant to oppose a prisca simplicitas, i.e. the straightforward, uncouth frankness of yore we have hinted at above.53 This, in turn, was marked by a natural affinity to Stoicism54 – two strands that here coincide in the figure of Cato, who not by chance was extolled and idealized at that very time by none other than Seneca,55 who had also attempted, as we saw, to revive the old ideal of the simplicitas of Roman tradition. The nova simplicitas here presented as a discriminative character of a new type of literature, must then be understood as “modern”56 to all effects, both at the moral and at the literary level, against all attempts to revive the old simplicitas, which in Petronius’ eyes was nothing but obsolete and outmoded hypocrisy, especially if it was passed off as a still valid ideal. At the end of our inquiry we shall be able to propose a further clarification of this “novelty”’s meaning and import. The simplicitas ideal was so deeply rooted in the old Romans’ traditional ethics as to be regarded as a national feature,57 in opposition to other nations’

    50 51

    52 53

    54

    55

    56 57

    252

    E.g. Coccia 1979, 795 (who correctly remarks that Bickel’s interpretation does not take into account the immediately following term opus); V. Gigante 1980, 68. This point has been best grasped by Hiltbrunner 1958, 50, according to whom this poem’s nova simplicitas has a triple reference: to style, to content, and to morals (through the opposition to the Catones). Bickel 1941, 271. Besides Hilbrunner, the opposition nova vs prisca simplicitas is admitted also by Borzsák 1947, whose essay, due to my ignorance of Hungarian, I only know through the appended German abstract (pp. 19-21; Borzsák adds the interesting remark that the ancients’ simplicitas was not devoid of a certain rustic asperitas and was thus opposed to the modern refined urbanitas too). See also, among others, Ferrero 1980, 137, 144-145; Courtney 1991, 35. As correctly emphasized by Hiltbrunner 1958, 47, in reference to Cicero’s assessment of Rutilius and Scaurus (Brut. 116): the former is regarded as an antiquus orator, the latter as a Stoicus orator; but both are characterized by illa simplex in agendo veritas. Interestingly enough, in his epic essay, the Bellum civile (119.45-50), Petronius picks up some Senecan traits in his description of Cato: the repulsa he suffered (cf. Sen. ep. 71.8 and 11; 104.33) and his role as last bulwark, and actual personification, of Rome’s honor (cf. Sen. const. 2.2). These coincidences may be of help in assessing the degree of seriousness of Petronius’ epic verse. So rightly Soverini 1985, 1778. Cf. Hiltbrunner 1958, 55-56.

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) duplicity or frivolousness.58 We shall soon see what unexpected semantic turn the Romana simplicitas will undergo, at the level of literary expression, in an author – Martial – that picks up and adapts – in a less original way – the ideas here developed by Petronius. Another traditional association coupled simplicitas and veritas in reference to expression, and could boast distinguished antecedents in the Greek tragedians. Aeschylus’ famous sentence, later picked up by Euripides,59 underlay the Stoics’ expressive ideals60 and in Petronius’ time had been revived and reproposed, in an updated and Latinized version – once more by Seneca,61 who again acts as the veritable antithesis to the ideas put forward in this part of the Satyrica, and so as the implicit butt of Encolpius’ (Petronius’?) polemic.62 Interestingly enough, our poem does not cut off the link connecting simplicitas and veritas; the latter, however, is now presented in a completely different light: the author’s candida lingua63 will now “candidly” report the true reality of human behavior (quod facit populus). Veritas, then, becomes a “realism” devoid of any moral goal or connotation,64 and simplicitas its appropriate expressive 58 59

    60 61

    62

    63

    64

    See e.g. Setaioli 1988, 11-14. Aesch. fr. 176 Nauck = Radt

    : Eurip. Phoen. 469 See Hiltbrunner 1958, 36 (46-48 for Stoic and

    Platonizing adaptations in Cicero). Cf. Cic. Brut. 116 (above, note 54); de orat. 1.229 (still on the Stoic Rutilius) noluit… ornatius… aut liberius causam dici suam, quam simplex ratio veritatis ferebat. Sen. ep. 49.12 ut ait ille tragicus, veritatis simplex oratio est, translating Euripides’ verse into Latin prose. See Setaioli 1988, 68 and n. 259. As a true Stoic, Seneca repeatedly reaffirms the concept: ep. 40.4 quae veritati operam dat oratio incomposita esse debet et simplex; ep. 82.19 pro veritate simplicius agendum est; cf. ep. 123.5 simplicius et verius. Cf. Ferrero 1980, 136-137. For Petronius’ polemic against, and satire of, the Stoics, and Seneca in particular, see Sullivan 1968, 193-213, with the literature quoted and discussed. In our epigram no mere parody or satire should be perceived, but a veritable opposition of principles. At a lower level of conceptual complexity candor and simplicitas are coupled also in Petr. 107.13 quod velim tam candide ad aures vestras perveniat quam simpliciter gestum est. Similar associations are found in Cael. ap. Cic. fam. 8.6.1; Sen. ep. 7.7; Quint. 12.11.8; Plin. ep. 2.9.4. According to Auerbach 1956, 34 Petronius’ novel is closer than any ancient writing to the modern concept of realism. This undoubtedly catches one important aspect of the Satyrica, but surely it does not exhaust the wealth of Petronius’ expressive range. Another equally important ingredient is the grotesque side of the work, as well as its parodic and generally “literary” component. Rather than “realism”, what we have here is the refusal of all conventions granting no right to literary depiction to certain aspects of real life. Barbieri 1983, 48 correctly states that “la sua (= Petronius’) simplicitas è anche franchezza priva di veli, nemica di ogni falso decoro, che non sia quello del buon gusto, del saper trattare senza rozzezza di tutto, anche degli aspetti comunemente ritenuti ‘prosaici’”. Cf. also V. Gigante 1980, 68. We shall see below that the “realistic” component is mainly dealt with in the poem, and the “literary” one in the prose context. 253

    Chapter XVII vehicle: as we shall see, on this point the author was able to appeal to a no less dignified authority than the classic literary doctrine of decorum. 3. Petronius’ simplicitas as we have outlined it no doubt entails, in theory, the programmatic intention not to conceal any aspect of reality and not to shun any element of language. At any rate, the poem’s context and its very form lead us to doubt that this literary vindication should – or could – be understood merely in the particular and reduced meaning it acquires in Martial, who basically appeals to Petronius in order to claim the right to use obscene language.65 In Petronius, although this particular element is not completely missing, the author’s attitude appears to be far from any such pettiness: he primarily vindicates the right not to exclude from literature any aspect, no matter how scabrous, of reality, not merely to use obscene language. This is confirmed by his own linguistic usage, far removed from the direct obscenity of so many of Martial’s epigrams,66 as well as by the elegance with which he claims the right to treat salacious subjects in a poem fashioned according to such dignified literary standards as Virgil and Roman elegy.67 Besides, only four paragraphs before he had exercised this right not by using obscene language, but through an enjoyable parody amounting to a cento, in which Virgil’s verses were made to acquire a lewd meaning without the insertion of a single improper word. Martial appeals to the simplicitas traditionally regarded as a trait of the Roman national character when, after quoting an extremely obscene epigram by Augustus, goes on to extol its Romana simplicitas.68 The same term also appears in the Spanish poet’s text that amounts to a veritable reworking of our Petronian poem: the introductory prose epistle opening the first book of his Epigrams. Incidentally, this epistle’s programmatic function proves that ancient readers had already grasped the character of literary proclamation of our Petronian text. In Martial’s epistle, to be sure, simplicitas takes on a meaning different from Petronius’,69 and closer to the one it has in Livy, in a passage we have previ65

    66 67

    68 69

    254

    The parallels between our poem and Martial pointed out by Borzsák 1947, 20-21 are illuminating, although he does not seem to take into account the latter’s more limited standpoint. At any rate, even could appeal to an old and renowned tradition; cf. e.g. Grassmann 1966. Cf. e.g. Kay 1985, 59. Petr. 132.15.5 harks back to Verg. Aen. 4.33 Veneris nec praemia noris; the following line, to numerous elegiac themes starting with Catull. 68.29 tepefactat membra cubili. An instructive analysis of the literary elements (mostly Virgilian, but also Ovidian, Homeric, and tragic) blending in the whole episode may be found in Fedeli 1989. Mart. 11.20.10. Among the many parallels quoted by Kay 1985, 113 none is closer to Martial than Petr. 132.15. Mart. 1 epist. ad lect. 6-7 absit a iocorum nostrorum simplicitate malignus interpres will probably intimate that Martial’s epigrams are innocent, devoid of wicked intentions. Cf. Citroni 1975, 8; Coccia 1979, 795, n. 35.

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) ously referred to.70 This peculiar nuance too, at any rate, can be traced back to Petronius’ poem.71 The latter’s main message – though reduced to the Spanish poet’s peculiarly limited application – appears immediately after in the epistle (lascivam verborum veritatem),72 joined with some terms and ideas that are pivotal in our Petronian poem: tristis and Latine loqui73 are paralleled in Petronius’ line 4.74 Finally, we find the same reference to Cato as the personification of the principles and ideas opposed to those advocated by the author; actually, the hint at the famous anecdote of Cato at the theater75 allows us to ascertain that both in Martial and in Petronius the primary reference is to the younger Cato. Further hints at Cato as the epitome of intransigent moralism scattered in other parts of Martial’s work76 also closely echo our Petronian context. In the light of so many correspondences one wonders whether Borzsák77 might not be right, when he understands the expression novissimum ingenium in Martial’s introductory epistle78 as meaning “talent in agreement with its times”, a sense close to Petronius’ nova simplicitas, although, in my opinion, the correct interpretation is different.79 It is certain, at any rate, that Martial’s epistle not only contains programmatic coincidences with Petronius’ poem, but amounts to a veritable development or rather reworking of the latter.80 This being so, it is not impossible that in 70 71

    72 73 74 75

    76

    77 78 79 80

    Liv. 40.47.3 (above, text to note 45). Just like Martial’s iocorum… simplicitas, Petronius’ nova simplicitas does not mean to offend anyone; it is deemed offensive only by the hypocritical champions of traditional morals: the frowning, supercilious Catones correspond to Martial’s malignus interpres. Martial is only restricting the meaning and import of Petronius’ stand by shifting the emphasis from the latter’s universal outlook to the specific case of possibly hurting prudish (and powerful) people’s feelings through his verse. Correspondingly, Petronius, unlike Martial, does not bother to draw a distinction between lewd literature and moral life: see below, § 8. Mart. 1 epist. ad lect. 9. What we have been said about veritas and simplicitas should be kept in mind. Mart. 1 epist. ad lect. 12 and 13. Cf. the already quoted epigram 11.20 (qui tristis verba Latina legis: v. 2): above, note 39. For sermo purus and Latinitas see below. Mart. 1 epist. ad lect. 15-16; 20-21. The story (the audience asked for the mimic actresses’ striptease only after Cato had left the theater) is told in Val. Max. 2.10.8; cf. Sen. ep. 97.8. Mart. 11.15.1 and especially 11.2.1-3 triste supercilium durique severa Catonis / frons… / et personati fastus (cf. the constricta… fronte Catones at Petr. 132.15.1 and the ficta severitas at Petr. 132.16). Borzsák 1947, 9, 20. Mart. 1 epist. ad lect. 6 probetur in me novissimum ingenium. Citroni 1975, 8 is surely right when he takes novissimum to be predicative (“l’ultima cosa ad essere apprezzata in me sia l’ingegno”). This is not the only clue allowing to conclude that Martial utilized Petronius. To mention just a few cases: Mart. 13.62.2 ingeniosa gula est picks up Petr. 119.33; Mart. 2.12 255

    Chapter XVII another epigram by Martial the point of some verses of seemingly gratuitous irreverence81 should be caught in the joking equation of the prisca with the nova simplicitas in Petronius’ meaning – or rather in the reduced and specific application Petronius’ meaning receives in Martial. 5. As we have said, Martial’s use of our Petronian poem in the epistle to the reader opening the first book of his Epigrams proves that ancient readers already perceived the programmatic import of this text. Sommariva, however,82 believes the poem’s location not at the beginning of the work to make it impossible to read it as a literary statement. She interprets the poem as a mere adaptation of the well-known apologetic theme developed by so many authors of lewd writings, from Catullus down, applying exclusively to Encolpius’ address to his recalcitrant organ in the narrated situation.83 Her position, if it cannot deny the eminently literary mold of our verse, on the one hand fails to appreciate Petronius’ much greater boldness and consistency than is found in Catullus, Ovid, Pliny, and Martial;84 on the other, by ruling out any wink at the reader temporarily breaking the stage illusion to hint at the special type of literary elaboration the narrator (and the author behind him) advocates, inevitably stumbles over the term opus (v. 2), which should then only refer to Encolpius’ short outburst in the preceding paragraphs.85 But, as already pointed out at the beginning of our inquiry, I believe this term to be one of the clearest clues pointing to the natural and nearly insensible integration of the narrated, specific situation and the general, overarching literary stand.86

    81 82 83 84 85

    86

    256

    is a collage of Petronian elements: cf. Petr. fr. 7 and 24 Müller. See below, text to notes 131-133, for Mart. 11.15. Mart. 11.15.8-10 nec per circuitus loquatur illam, / ex qua nascimur, omnium parentem, / quam sanctus Numa mentulam vocabat. Sommariva 1996, 57-58. Adamietz 1995, 323-324 concisely makes a similar statement. This aspect will be illustrated below, § 8. Sommariva basically goes back to the implausible interpretation of Beck 1973, 52 (see above, note 22). As for the declamatio at 133.1, it is anything but certain that it should be referred to Encolpius’ address to his treacherous limb. See above, text to notes 5-7 and to notes 14-16; also notes 22; 50. Sommariva appeals to the “polivalenza semantica” of opus, in the sense that in our passage the term, though referring to Encolpius’ address to his offending member, should let us glimpse an allusion to the well-known apologetic theme mentioned above, and thus suggest a connection with a literary work (she had already put forward this interpretation in Sommariva 1984b, 141 n. 78; Sommariva 1991, 110-111). This is a praiseworthy but hardly convincing compromise trying to save Beck’s interpretation of the term opus with the obvious meaning it has in the context. But, apart from the intrinsic untenability of Beck’s interpretation accepted by Sommariva, in view of the utter lack of any instance in which opus is used with no literary implication in reference to a short speech or monologue like Encolpius’ (in fact, Sommariva must resort to ill-directed ingenuity in order to

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) As already hinted, Sommariva’s most powerful argument is the location of our poem, which, not being at the beginning of the work, makes it impossible, in her opinion, to read it as a literary manifesto. Actually, the meaning of these lines appears too evident to me to make it depend on their position in the work; at any rate, Sommariva’s objection had already been obviated before it was raised: as Stöcker remarks,87 the poem could well answer criticisms leveled at parts of the work already made known; if, as quite possible, the Satyrica was made known by installments, the location of our couplets does not prevent them in any way from reflecting and illustrating the author’s literary program. That this suggestion has many chances to hit the truth is confirmed by Martial’s reshaping of this poem in his introductory epistle to the reader we have illustrated in the preceding paragraph. We have pointed out the closeness of the two texts; but they differ in one important detail. In Petronius’ poem the Catones are already frowning and already condemn the novae simplicitatis opus; Martial, by contrast, asks Cato not to enter his theater, or, if he does, to watch the show without raising a scandal.88 He, then, tries to forestall a situation to which the author of the novae simplicitatis opus appears to be already exposed. This, in my opinion, is a strong clue suggesting that this poem was written when criticisms had indeed already been leveled at parts of the Satyrica previously made public, and also explains the difference between Petronius’ text and Martial’s we have hinted at.

    87 88

    transfer Encolpius’ address to his mentula to a different level, by calling it “gesto di inaudita franchezza”: Sommariva 1984b, 141 n. 78, and, with intentional ambiguity, “gesto verbale”, “discorso”: Sommariva 1991, 111), the two meanings she tries to reconcile are mutually exclusive: it is impossible to admit a literary reference of general import and to rule out its relevance for Petronius’ work at the same time. I do by no means intend to deny that the verse at 132.15 may be applicable also to the character Encolpius’ specific situation, but I cannot see how it could contain a literary reference which, paradoxically, should be devoid of any literary implication. The self-contradictory character of this position clearly emerges from Sommariva’s own words: Sommariva 1984b, 141: “(the verse at 132.15) altro non è che un carme programmatico perfettamente autonomo,… il quale però, inserito com’è nel monologo di Encolpio personaggio, viene piegato ad assumere una diversa funzione, non già programmatica,… bensì caratterizzante”. Besides, as we have repeatedly remarked, if the reference were only to Encolpius’ private outburst in the narrated situation, in which he is alone, rather than to a work literarily elaborated and made known to the public, why should Encolpius need to justify himself as he does in our poem? Stöcker 1969, 143 and n. 2. Mart. 1 epist. ad lect. 15-16 non intret Cato theatrum meum, aut si intraverit, spectet. The verse closing the epistle, which describes Cato’s shock with verbs in the past tense, supposes the picture sketched in the preceding prose 257

    Chapter XVII 6. The term simplicitas and related words imply specific stylistic and literary connotations;89 As we have seen, Seneca associates them with philosophy’s plain style,90 and before him his father employs the adjective simplex to characterize the eloquence of Papirius Fabianus,91 whose unpretentious style is described in detail by the philosopher in a famous letter.92 It should be remarked as of now that once more Petronius picks up one of Seneca’s catchwords in order to turn it upside down. For the philosopher the oratio simplex et non sollicita93 is the means to convey moral truth; the novelist makes it the vehicle of a literary expression seeking only to amuse and entertain. He wishes, at any rate, to keep away from one of philosophical prose’s peculiar aspects: the tristitia philosophers, and Stoics in particular, were routinely blamed for.94 My nova simplicitas, Petronius seems to say, is the opposite – even from the stylistic point of view – of the Soics’ simplicitas, which is tristis and devoid of gratia. Simplicitas is a feature of plain style,95 and this rhetorical and literary reference is confirmed by the unmistakably atticizing vocabulary that follows the ) was Lysias’ term: sermonis puri non tristis gratia ridet (v. 3).96 Gratia ( universally acknowledged merit; and Lysias was the undisputed model of plain style.97 As for sermo purus, the recognized model was once more Lysias;98 at Rome it was the ideal of those who affected plainness of style99 – and, more important from our point of view, in Petronius’ time Seneca extolled Papirius Fabianus’ pura oratio.100 Sermo purus was tightly connected with the use of words in their proper ),102 sense.101 It was also considered as the epitome of Latinitas (or 103 which in turn was another essential feature of plain style. Clearly, when Martial, in his literary pronouncements modeled on Petronius, uses expressions like 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99

    100 101 102 103

    258

    Cf. Hiltbrunner 1958, 48 (with references to Cicero and Quintilian). See above, note 61. Sen. rhet. contr. 2 praef. 2 in summa eius ac simplicissima facultate dicendi. Sen. ep. 100 (the whole letter; in particular § 6 decore simplici). See Setaioli 2000, 111-217, 397-408. Cf. above, note 39. Cf. e.g. Quint. 11.1.93 simplicitas illa et velut securitas (Fabianus’ style was securus too: Sen. ep. 100.5) inadfectatae orationis mire tenuis causas decet. As already noted by Stubbe 1933, 153. Cf. Dion. Hal. Lys. 10 ff.; Quint. 9.4.17, where the term simplex appears. Dion. Hal. 2, p. 9, 11 ff. Usener-Radermacher. Cf. e.g Ter. heaut. 46 pura oratio; and Caesar’s epigram on Terence (v. 2 puri sermonis amator). Cic. orat. 53 opposes the purum et candidum genus dicendi to that characterized by severitas and maestitia. Sen. ep. 100.10. : cf. Dion. Hal. 3, pp. 10, 8-9 and 12, 10; 4, p. 12.32. Cic. opt. gen. 4 pure et emendate loquentes, id est Latine. Cic. orat. 79 (on “Attic” style) sermo purus erit et Latinus. See also Barbieri 1983, 40.

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) Latine loqui or verba Latina,104 he does nothing but develop an element already implied in our Petronian poem, bending it to his purpose to express and justify his own, peculiar programmatic statement, though he drastically reduces the scope of Petronius’ vindication, in that he claims the right to be “realistic” merely in the language.105 But in view of the fact that this idea was somehow already implied in our poem, it cannot be ruled out that the sermo purus (i.e. Latinus) of these lines might also refer to Encolpius’ indecent outburst he appears for a moment to repent before justifying it – with the “programmatic” implications we have tried to outline – in the verse and the immediately preceding prose.106 Some scholars have taken the undoubtedly atticizing vocabulary of this poem to amount to a consistent profession of atticism on the part of Petronius, and have tried to interpret in the same way the famous chapters on literature at the beginning of the preserved part of the novel.107 Other scholars resolutely oppose this view.108 I believe that it is extremely difficult to confine a writer like Petronius within the patterns of a definite scholastic affiliation.109 The Neronian age was a time of enthusiastic quest for novelty and originality; the received patterns were often intentionally broken and new ideas were often injected into traditional molds. In Seneca, for example, scholastic vocabulary is not rarely employed to express totally new ideas in matters of style and literature.110 I believe something similar can be detected in our Petronian poem too.111 Marmorale,112 conditioned as he is by his dating of the Satyrica to the II/III century A.D., is surely wrong in believing Petronius not to be aware of the difference between his freedmen’s language and classical Latin, but has the merit to state forcefully that the Satyrica’s sermo purus is not the same as the atticists’. This is a valuable suggestion, if we pay attention to the fact that the poem’s supposed “atticism” is enriched by a new element: the author mimeti104 105

    106 107 108 109 110 111

    112

    See above, note 39 and text to note 73; cf. the Romana simplicitas of Mart. 11.20.10 (above, text to note 68). Latine loqui or similar expressions, however, already existed, though originally they implied no obscene (or literary) associations: cf. Cic. Verr. 2.4.2; Phil. 7.17. An adaptation possibly prior to Martial’s is found in Priap. 3.9-10, already associating simplicitas and Latinitas to define an openly obscene language. Simplicitas has this meaning in Mart. 9.15.2; 11.63.4; 14.215.1. Petr. 132.12 paenitentiam agere sermonis mei coepi. A survey in Soverini 1985, 1714-1723 (starting with Collignon 1892 and Sage 1915). I will only mention Kissel 1978 and Panayotakis 1995, 1-9, 117-121, 175-176. Cf. also Soverini 1985, 1774-1775. Cf. Setaioli 2000, 111-217, 397-408. An interesting suggestion, deserving further development, has been made by Soverini 1985, 1777 n. 381: “un riflesso, dunque, del realismo petroniano e con implicazioni di ben maggior respiro e ampiezza di un’interpretazione tecnico-scolastica delle espressioni usate”. Marmorale 1948, 144-146. 259

    Chapter XVII cally “photographs” (candida) and expresses (lingua) the reality of human beahavior. The atticist concept of the lack of artificial elaboration can thus be transformed into an idea endowed with wider scope and implications: the faithful reprodution of both the language and behavior (quod facit populus) of real people.113 Petronius is now revealing the two equally important and in no way separable aspects of his “realism”;114 in the preceding prose he had sketched, as we have seen, the other fundamental component of his work: the “literary”, or should we say “parodical”, element.115 Beyond the immediate reference to the narrated erotic situation the author actually presents a veritable definition and characterization of his work. 7. Petronius justifies his “realism” and the untraditional content of his work by emphasizing its closeness to life. To a certain extent he agrees with those authors who, like Persius, protested contemporary literature’s fashionable trends ignoring reality. It is hardly surprising that on this point too he was followed by Martial.116 The Spanish poet, actually, adds a contemptuous rejection of even traditionally appreciated literary works, if they keep away from real life.117 On the one hand this attitude may explain our poem’s atticizing vocabulary: plain style was the most suited to the description of real human behavior as it was traditionally portrayed in the satirical genre118 – the genre to one of whose particular types, namely Menippean satire, Petronius’ work at least formally be113

    114

    115

    116

    117 118

    260

    According to Sullivan 1968, 103 Petronius’ literary theories are influenced “by the twin critical concepts of mimesis and decorum”, the latter in relation with linguistic level. Sullivan correctly remarks that Petronius’ “atticism” has no qualms about trespassing into the genus humile ( ), in order to achieve a faithful reproduction of the lower linguistic strata. In connection with what we have remarked about the semantic change and extension of scholastic terminology, we may agree with Soverini 1985, 1779 n. 387, according to whom the “classicistic” idea of decorum in the strict sense in no way satisfies the multiple creative exigencies of Petronian art. But cf. above, note 67, for the literary element (the trace left by literary tradition), no less important than “realism” in the Satyrica, whose presence is clearly felt even in this poem (132.15.5-6), in which the double aspect of Petronian “realism” is in the foreground. But see above, text to notes 35-36, for the mimetic (“realistic”) motifs that at 132.13-14 enclose the literary references. Actually, in the prose as well as in the verse, Petronius cleverly blends the “realistic” and the “literary” element. Mart. 8.3.19-20 at tu Romano lepidos sale tinge libellos: / agnoscat mores vita legatque suos; 10.4.8-10 hoc lege, quod possit dicere vita ‘meum est’… hominem pagina nostra sapit. Mart. 10.4.11-12 sed non vis, Mamurra, tuos cognoscere mores / nec te scire: legas Aetia Callimachi. Cf. Hor. sat. 1.4.39-62; 2.6.17. We should also remember that for Horace satire’s task is ridentem dicere verum (sat. 1.1.24). Cf. what we have been saying about veritas and simplicitas.

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) longs, though after the discovery of the fragment of the Iolaus this has been called in doubt.119 Unlike a real satirist, e.g. the contemporary Persius, our author does not pursue any ethical goal. Like Martial in the following generation, although with far greater finesse, he is most of all interested in the aspect of human reality concerning sexual behavior: in spite of all supercilious Catos, his scabrous subject matter is an integral part of real life, and this suffices to lend it literary status. What is needed is only an adequate artistic treatment; the problem has shifted from the moral to the stylistic : from ethics to aesthetics.120 This is confirmed by the very philosophical (or seemingly philosophical) justification of the last lines. The author appears to speak as a convinced Epicurean,121 but like the atticizing terminology is not sufficient to make Petronius an atticist, so the reference to allegedly Epicurean doctrines only means that the author of the Satyrica utilizes to his own ends certain ideas that rightly or wrongly were passed off as Epicurean, once more adapting traditional patterns to make them fit the very personal aesthetic and literary features of his work. In spite of repeated attempts to present Petronius as an Epicurean – the most systematic of which is Raith’s book122 –, the majority of scholars agree that speaking of Petronius’ consistent acceptance of Epicureanism is hardly possi-

    119 120 121

    122

    By Astbury 1977. See Introd., text to note 14. Or perhaps it is more correct to say that Petronius’ aesthetic attitude extends to the ethical domain too. Cf. Petr. 132.15. 7 pater veri… Epicurus. In my opinion there is no doubt that the two words pater veri should be taken together. At line 7 I accept Canterus’ reading ipse pater veri doctos Epicurus amare, where the transmitted text is the metrically incorrect doct s Epicurus in arte. Cf. also González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 273. An exhaustive survey of the discussions on the text in V. Gigante 1980, 61-65, who retains doctus… in arte, like Raith 1963, 44 and especially Raith 1970. This reading is accepted also by Pellegrino 1975, 177, 432-433, Barbieri 1983, 43 and n. 3, and Soverini 1985, 1775. It is rightly rejected by Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995; cf. also Barnes 1971, 260. Bücheler 1862, 186 accepted doctus… in arte (as also done by Ernout 1923, 161 and Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 137), but changed to doctos… amare in his later editions. This reading is adopted also by Müller 1961, 165 as well as in his subsequent editions. The untenability of the transmitted reading doctus… in arte is confirmed by the strained constructions that must be assumed by those who uphold it (Raith: ipse pater Epicurus, doctus veri, in arte; Gigante: ipse pater Epicurus, doctus in arte veri). Cf. also several popular editions: Ciaffi 19672, 336; Aragosti 1995, 500; Reverdito 1995, 250; Scarsi 1996, 230. The hybrid text doctos… in arte adopted by Stubbe 1933, 150 is totally unjustified: see the objections in Helm 1956, 232 (and already in his review of Stubbe, “PhW” 54, 1934, 15). Raith 1963. Raith’s thesis is partially accepted by Veyne 1964a, 308 and n. 6 (cf. also Veyne 1964b). Some of Veyne’s generalizations are perplexing; cf. e.g. Veyne 1964a, 308 n. 1: “le Satiricon… ne relève pas d’une esthétique épicurienne, laquelle n’existe pas” (the emphasis is mine): what about Philodemus? See below, text to note 126. 261

    Chapter XVII ble.123 This is proved by the gross, probably intentional,124 misrepresentation of Epicurus’ genuine doctrine, whose real ascetical character was correctly understood and illustrated at that very time by Seneca. Radically opposing the latter, Petronius’ poem has Epicurus proclaim that sexual pleasure is life’s supreme goal – exactly like the vulgar Epicureans blamed by Seneca.125 Almost certainly, this blatant falsification is not caused by ignorance, but by the will to contradict the latter’s attitude. What is of interest here is that the author appeals to Epicurus to justify the reality of human behavior and of the general craving for sexual gratification; but at the same time – and more directly than it might appear – this appeal is probably also connected with the author’s literary stand, as far as both subject matter and expressive vehicle are concerned, the latter being characterized by the non tristis gratia, the sermo purus, and the joyful laughter (ridet) going with them. It is well-known that the Epicurean philosopher Philodemus denied any moral, educational or utilitarian goal of literature;126 if it pursues neither this goal nor the blending of utile and dulce, if follows that its can be no other than that of life: pleasure. 8. On this point Petronius could hark back to a strand of national literature going back at least to Catullus. In some famous verses the latter stated that the poet’s work attains its goal by way of sensual titillation127 and repeatedly associated the gifts of Venus and those of the Muses.128 He seems to assert, then, that poetry’s goal is to afford pleasure: not the wise man’s catastematic pleasure, but rather the fleeting one tickling the senses. 123

    124

    125 126

    127 128

    262

    Cf. e.g. Sullivan 1968, 110; V. Gigante 1980, 74 (with a sketch of the history of the problem from the XVII century to our times: Highet 1941 is important in this connection); Barbieri 1983, 49-55; Castner 1988, 104. Most recently Patimo 2006, 477-478. As believed by V. Gigante 1980, 73. According to Barnes 1971, 261-262 too the poem distorts Epicurus’ real doctrine. According to Conte 1996, 190 such a distortion cannot be ascribed to Petronius, but only to the naïve and superficial Encolpius. In my opinion it is intentionally contrived by Petronius (who of course knew Epicurus’ real doctrine) to oppose the picture of the Greek master sketched by Seneca. See above, in the text. This is probably a further element of Petronius’ not so hidden polemical attitude to the greatest Stoic of his time (cf. what we have said about simplicitas: above, text to note 46; on Cato: above, text to note 55; on the connection simplicitas/veritas: above, text to note 61). Cf. Setaioli 2000, 255-274, 409-410. I refer to the inquiries of Asmis 1990, 2404-2405; Asmis 1991, 1-7 (basically in agreement with Rostagni), and Mangoni 1993, 28-31 (with a survey of previous interpretations: I single out Grube 1965, 196). Catull. 16.7-9 tum denique habent salem ac leporem / si sunt molliculi et parum pudici / et quod pruriat incitare possunt. See Ronconi 1972, 59-63.

    A Literary Vindication (Petr. 132.15) A comparable position reappears in Martial. In an already quoted epigram129 he picks up Catullus’ terms, lepos and sal, and often he is even more explicit than the latter is.130 It seems to me to be undisputable, then, that the ridere our poem ascribes to the non tristis gratia includes an idea of sensual titillation close to the one found in Catullus and Martial. This is confirmed by the meaning ridere has in one of the latter’s epigrams we have already quoted in connection with the contrast between prisca and nova simplicitas,131 all the more so in that in the same epigram we also read a reference to Cato close to Petronius’132 and a further Petronian element may be there too.133 But in the approach of Petronius’ poem a remarkable degree of originality can be detected, not merely in relation with the Roman predecessors, but also with the later Martial. Catullus had theorized the separation of art and life:134 the poetic work’s erotic content does not necessarily entail the rejection of the traditional (“Catonian”) ethic ideals in the author’s actual life.135 This distinction between art and life was liable to bring about unforeseen consequences of great import in the long run, but it is not hard to recognize it as an attempt at a practical compromise with traditional ethical conceptions.136 This is apparent in Ovid’s appropriation of the Catullan theme for purposes of self-defense after being exiled,137 whereas previously he had openly boasted of his erotic poetry.138 After Petronius the theme reappears in Martial,139 and even in the Priapea140 ob-

    129 130 131 132 133

    134 135

    136 137 138 139 140

    Mart. 8.3.19 (above, note 116) at tu Romano lepido sale tinge libellos (for Romano cf. the Romana simplicitas of Mart. 11.20.10 discussed above, text to note 68). Mart. 1.35.5 non possunt sine mentula placere; 11 ne possint, nisi pruriant, iuvare (cf. Catull. 16.9 quod pruriant incitare possunt); see also the whole epigram 11.16. Mart. 11.15.3-4 hic totus volo rideat libellus / et sit nequior omnibus libellis; cf, above, text to note 81. Mart. 11.15.1 Catonis uxor, mentioned as the intransigent champion of traditional morals. The perfumes of the unguentarius Cosmus: Mart. 11.15.6; cf. Petr. fr. 18 Ernout (not included by Müller and “vix Petronio tribuendum” according to Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 169). Cf. also Mart. 11.8.9. Catull. 16.5-6 castum esse decet pium poetam / ipsum, versiculos nihil necessest. In practice, of course, Catullus was less cautious than in theory: the senes severiores of the poem on kisses (Catull. 5) do not appear to be treated with greater respect than Petronius does with the Catones. For the hardly negligible risks a too direct attack against traditional ethics could entail down to Martial’s time see Kay 1985, 100. Ov. trist. 1.9.58-60; 2.353 ff.; 3.2.5-6. Ov. rem. 361-391 (here too, though, in reference to the specific requirements of the genre). Mart. 1.4.9 lasciva est nobis pagina, vita proba; 11.15.13; cf. 9.28.25. For the later survival of the theme see Citroni 1975, 33. Priap. 2.1-8. 263

    Chapter XVII scenity is excused by stating that this type of poetry is not serious and is far removed from the Muses’ dignity. Nothing of the sort appears in our Petronian poem, so that those who assume an unqualified affinity with Catullus’, Ovid’s, and Martial’s attitude appear to be wrong.141 The text’s very approach makes it impossible to distinguish between art and life. As the author speaks through the mask of his literary creation, no attempt is made – nor was it possible to make it – to reconcile the work’s lewdness with traditional morals.142 But in the very text of the poem the oneness of the spheres of practical experience (quod facit populus) and expression (candida lingua refert) confirms the two levels’ complete compenetration. Art and life are truly and totally inseparable. Petronius’ position is much bolder and consistently revolutionary than Catullus’, the exiled Ovid’s, or Martial’s. Though the latter clearly models his literary program on Petronius’, he is not bold enough to reject the Catullan compromise, as appropriated by Ovid in already drastically different political circumstances. It is true that the cliens Martial’s social standing was far removed from the imperial courtier Petronius’; but we should not forget that a high-ranking contemporay of Martial’s, the younger Pliny, does not behave any more bravely than the cliens.143 Petronius, then, could legitimately term nova his own simplicitas, not merely as an ethic and aesthetic ideal opposed to the prisca simplicitas of tradition, but also as a consistent revolutionary stand renouncing any hypocritical disclaimer based on the distinction and separation of his own art and his own life. It is perfectly clear to anyone reading our poem with unprejudiced eyes that no moral goal or intent can be forcibly thrust into Petronius’ work, as done by those who are unwilling and unable to accept his simplicitas and his candida lingua for what they are; but it is equally certain that he is in an unassailable position when he attacks the hypocrisy and ficta severitas of those that will unfailingly attack each and every instance of other people’s shortcomings.

    141

    142

    143

    264

    E.g. Walsh 1970, 106; and already Paratore 1933, II, 418. It should rather be noted that Petronius plays with the traditional theme, to the point of reversing it in his depiction of Eumolpus, whose poetry is chaste, whereas his life is lewd. Valuable remarks on this are found in V. Gigante 1980, 71-72 (removal of any breach between the poet’s personality and the result of his art, between and ). Cf. also Barnes 1971, 265. Plin. ep. 4.14. In this letter Pliny quotes Catull. 16.5-8 we have referred to above.

    Chapter XVIII Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2)* 133.2 positoque in limine genu sic deprecatus sum numen aversum: 3

    Nympharum Bacchique comes, quem pulchra Dione divitibus silvis numen dedit, inclita paret cui Lesbos viridisque Thasos, quem Lydus adorat septifluus templumque tuis imponit Hypaepis: huc ades, et Bacchi tutor Dryadumque voluptas, et timidas admitte preces. Non sanguine tristi perfusus venio, non templis impius hostis admovi dextram, sed inops et rebus egenis attritus facinus non toto corpore feci. Quisquis peccat inops minor est reus. Hac prece, quaeso, exonera mentem culpaeque ignosce minori, et quandoque mihi fortunae arriserit hora, non sine honore tuum patiar decus. Ibit ad aras, sancte, tuas hircus, pecoris pater, ibit ad aras corniger et querulae fetus suis, hostia lactens. Spumabit pateris hornus liquor, et ter ovantem circa delubrum gressum feret ebria pubes.

    5

    10

    15

    L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 133.3.10 quisquis… reus LO 133.3.14 solus servavit B, unde sumpsit p 133.2 numen aversum Anonym. ap. Burm.: numina versu 133.3.4 septifluus LP, agnoscit Heiricus Autissiodurensis, MGH, Poetae Lat. Aevi Carol. III, p.461: sep (i.e. semper) flauius B: semperfluus R: vestifluus Turneb.: sertifluus Reiske, Vine: suppliciter temptavit Bücheler: septifluum (cum litus v. 3 pro Lydus, ubi Nilus Aur. ap. Burm.) Fiaccadori, fortasse recte tuis: suis Iungerm. 5 et: o Scalig. 12 quandoque L: quando O 14 pecoris p: docoris B

    Chapter XVIII 15 fetus Jun.: festus lactens Puteol.: lactans

    139.2

    Non solum me numen et implacabile fatum persequitur. Prius Inachia Tirynthius ora exagitatus onus caeli tulit, ante profanus Laomedon gemini satiavit numinis iram, Iunonem Pelias sensit, tulit inscius arma Telephus et regnum Neptuni pavit Ulixes. Me quoque per terras, per cani Nereos aequor Hellespontiaci sequitur gravis ira Priapi.

    5 4

    L(=lrtp) 2 Inachiae Delz ora rt: ira ltmgp propter 5 et 8, ut videtur 3 profanus lmg: profanam 5-4 ordinem versuum commutavit Büchel. 4 tulit inscius arma inter cruces posuit Müller: tulit ictus Iacchum Courtney 6 pavit Dousa: cavit

    1. The two poems at 133.31 and 139.22 are crucial for the interpretation of the novel as a whole, or rather, of the fragments that came down to us. In both the central figure is the god Priapus. The first poem is a prayer addressed to him by Encolpius at Croton, after he has been affected by sexual impotence and therefore made unable to enjoy the love of the beautiful Circe; the second is a list of heroes who were persecuted by some god, culminating with Encolpius himself, who – as he says – is hounded by Priapus’ wrath by land and by sea. Before we tackle the general problems connected with these two poems, we shall address some textual and formal points. As far as the text is concerned, we must remember that 133.3 is transmitted by both main branches of the Petronian tradition, i.e. L and O, whereas 139.2 is only found in L, that is in the branch transmitting the most extended fragments of Petronius’ work. The most difficult textual problem posed by the poem at 133.3 concerns the beginning of line 4, where L and one manuscript of the O tradition (P, twelfth century) give the reading septifluus, which is also testified by a Medieval monk, *

    1

    2

    266

    A version of this chapter will appear, with the title Encolpio y Príapo: las poesías en Petronio, Sat. 133.3 y 139.2, in the proceedings of the XXIII Semana de Estudios Romanos (Viña del Mar 29-30 de sept., 1-2-3 de oct. 2008), Instituto de Historia, Facultad de Filosofía y Educación, Pontificia Universidad Católica de Valparaíso. A metrical analysis is offered by Yeh 2007, 414-417, who also emphasizes some conspicuous formal correspondences: preces/prece (vv. 6; 10); non/non/non (vv. 6; 7; 9); inops/inops (vv. 8; 10). A metrical analysis in Yeh 2007, 418-420.

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) Heiricus Autissiodurensis,3 while the two other O manuscripts read semperfluus (R) and sep (i.e. semper) flauius (B). Though the latter reading is meaningless, it is printed between cruces in Müller’s and in Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni’s editions, and also in Courtney’s commentary to Petronius’ poems.4 The reason that kept many scholars from accepting the reading septifluus is the grammatical link connecting this adjective with Lydus in the preceding verse,5 whereas the mention of seven rivers inevitably brings to mind the delta of the Nile.6 It seems rather difficult to admit that Encolpius has confused two areas so far apart as Lydia and Egypt,7 and therefore the text must very probably be corrected. Among the numerous proposals I’ll single out Fiaccadori’s,8 identifying the textual corruption with the word Lydus of line 3, which had already been corrected to Nilus in the XVII century.9 With a slight correction of Lydus to litus (and of course of septifluus to septifluum) we obtain the necessary reference to Egypt, and also a more naturally flowing syntax in line 4, where templum becomes the subject; the whole sentence could then be translated: “whom the coast of the seven rivers adores and a temple places as a guardian above your Hypaepa”.10 Otherwise, templum must be taken as the object, and the subject of imponit would be Lydus, which is already the subject of adorat. The relation of Priapus to Egypt is well attested and poses no problems.11 As we have already hinted, the poem is formally a prayer, or rather a composition blending prayer, hymn, and votive epigram;12 actually, in view of the irreverent context, it is a parody of these literary genres.13 It is also necessary to remember that this is the only poem wich is surely uttered aloud by the character Encolpius in the situation being narrated. The other poems are either uttered by 3 4 5

    6 7 8 9 10

    11 12 13

    Cf. above, critical apparatus, and see Müller 1995, xxxi-xxxii. Courtney 1991, 35. For the numerous proposals see Fiaccadori 1981; Vine 1989, 838840. Although some scholars accept this link: after Bücheler 1862, see Ernout 1923, 162: “le Lydien aux sept fleuves”; Walsh 1996, 153: “all Lydia athwart its seven streams”; cf. also Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 138; Ciaffi 19672, 338; Canali 1990, 244; Scarsi 1996, 233. Cf. Aeschyl. fr. 300 Nauck-Radt, and, in Latin, e.g. Catull. 11.7-8; Verg. Aen. 6.800. See Norden 19574, 325. As done by Aragosti 1995, 505 n. 401. Fiaccadori 1991. Cf. above, critical apparatus. A contrary argument might be seen, rather than in the mere fact that Hypaepa is in Lydia, in an Ovidian passage, in which the words surely alluded to by Petronius (Ov. met. 6.13 parvis habitabat Hypaepis: cf. below, note 25) are preceded (v. 11) by Lydas… per urbes. Cf. Athen. 5, 201C. See Fiaccadori 1981, 376; O’ Connor 1989, 18, 92 n. 36. Cf. La Bua 1999, 325-326. Cf. Kleinknecht 1937, 189-192; the poem is a parody of prayer also according to Schmeling 1994-1995, 223. 267

    Chapter XVIII other characters or amount to his reflections or comments, either as a character or as the narrator – and in this second instance they are of course supposed to be later than the facts related.14 As traditional in compositions of this type,15 the poem begins with the list of the god’s attributes16 and places of worship, which already appears in the oldest of these invocations – Chryses’ prayer at the beginning of the Iliad17 – and is usually introduced through a series of relative clauses,18 as is also the case in our poem. Immediately following, we have the evocation of the god (v. 5 huc ades, a typical formula of the cletic hymn)19 and the humble appeal to his attention (v. 6 et timidas admitte preces).20 On the declaration of innocence and the petition for clemency and forgiveness that come after these we shall dwell in greater detail later on. Finally (vv. 12-17) comes the promise of a sacrifice.21 Interestingly enough, the very same elements are also found in some of the poems in the collection of the Priapea, that is in the type of composition our poem surely refers

    14 15

    16

    17 18

    19 20 21

    268

    Almost certainly even the poem at 126.18 is not uttered aloud by the character Encolpius: see ch. XIII. Barnes 1971, 168 goes as far as suggesting that Petronius may be following a Greek model. By contrast, Slater 1990a, 180 believes the pastoral setting of 133.3 (which, in his opinion, distinguishes this poem from the “epic” tone of 139.2) to be more important than the hymnlike form. The best analysis of the latter in our poem is found in Landolfi 2007, who also offers a thorough survey of Petronius’ nods to previous Roman poets. For Venus (Dione = Venus also at Petr. 124.266) as Priapus’ mother cf. Herter 1932, 63; for Priapus as companion and tutor of Bacchus, Herter 1932, 93-94, 303-306; for his relation to the Dryads, Priap. 33.1; to woods (divitibus silvis), CE 1504B; Catull. fr. 2.1. Hom. Il. 1.37-38. Cf. Appel 1909, 114. Also Norden 2002, 287-296, who, however, does not mention Petronius’ poem. For the places of worship mentioned at 133.3 cf. O’ Connor 1989, 18 (coins from Lesbos and Thasos with the effigy of Priapus); for Egypt, cf. above, text to note 11. For Hypaepa, cf. below, note 25. The city most commonly connected with the cult of Priapus, Lampsacus, is missing (perhaps intentionally). Cf. Appel 1909, 115-117. An “indirect” cletic hymn may be recognized in another Petronian poem: 127.9. See ch. XIV. Cf. Appel 1909, 138. This is a further traditional element: cf. e.g. Appel 1909, 152. Here we witness one of the few cases of a bloody offering to Priapus (cf. Priap. 86.15-16; Theocr. epigr. 4.1318). See O’ Connor 1989, 69; Courtney 1991, 37. The problem of whether the corniger of v. 15 should be identified with the hircus of v. 14 is the object of debate. By placing a comma after hircus, Pithoeus separated it from corniger. Cf. the reaction recorded by Burman 1743, I, 823: “non taurus sed caper”. The corniger is a bull also for Barnes 1971, 169; 182 n. 12; it is a ram for Courtney 1991, 37. It differs from the hircus also for La Bua 1999, 326. The majority of scholars, however, believe the hircus and the corniger to coincide.

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) to, although it freshly renovates the received patterns, as we shall presently see.22 From the literary point of view, on the other hand, we find several echoes of Roman poets in our verse. We shall mention afterwards an elegy of Ovid’s which has left its mark in the whole episode of Encolpius’ impotence, as well as crucial parallels in Tibullus and Lygdamus; for the moment we shall only point out that the end of line 5 (Dryadumque voluptas) reminds of Lucretius’ opening line (hominum divomque voluptas) and that the picture of the sacrifice bears Virgilian, Horatian, and Tibullan colors.23 Virgil is also at the background of Encolpius’ self-representation as rebus egenis / attritus;24 and Ovid, finally, suggested to Petronius the mention of the little town of Hypaepa.25 2. As far as the poem at 139.2 is concerned, the main textual problem is posed by the order of lines 4 and 5. In his great 1862 edition Bücheler retained the order given by all L witnesses (the only branch of tradition transmitting this poem); later, however, he transposed the two verses, and was followed by most editors, with the exception of Ernout in France and Cesareo-Terzaghi in Italy. In fact, the transposition appears to be necessary; otherwise the mention of the wrath of two gods, which perfecly fits Laomedon, who had deprived Poseidon and Apollo of the payment he had promised as a reward for building the walls of Troy, would necessarily refer to Telephus, and the final words of line 4, tulit inscius arma, which are difficult enough if applied to Telephus, should be taken to describe an action of Laomedon’s, which has no correspondence in what we know of the myth related to him. As we have already remarked at the beginning, the poem is a list of mythological heroes who were persecuted by some god, culminating with the case of Priapus’ persecution of Encolpius, to which two whole lines are devoted, that is 22

    23

    24 25

    Priap. 75 (incomplete) is a list of places sacred to various deities, which in all probability culminated with the one sacred to Priapus. In Priap. 81.2 we find the very same cletic formula: huc ades. More contacts with the Priapea will be mentioned later. As of now, however, I wish to state my conviction (also shared by Rankin 1966, 226 n. 4 and by Richlin 19922, 141-143) that the collection of the Priapea can hardly be attributed to one author and that at least some poems should be dated in the I century A.D. (pace Buchheit 1962). Petr. 133.313 and 14 ibit ad aras ~ Tib. 2.1.15 eat sacer agnus ad aras; 16 spumabit pateris hornus liquor ~ Verg. Aen. 1.793 spumantem pateram and Hor. c. 1.31.2-3 de patera novum / fundens liquorem; 17 ebria pubes ~ Tib. 2.1.29-30 vina diem celebrent: non festa luce madere / est rubor. Petr. 133.3.8-9 ~ Verg. Aen. 6.91 in rebus egenis. Cf. Norden 19574, 372; Austin 1977, 70. Cf. Ov. met. 6.13; 11.152. In both cases we have the form Hypaepis at the end of the line. In the second passage the place is related to Pan, who is often assimilated with Priapus. 269

    Chapter XVIII more than to any of the heroes previously mentioned, some of whom are dispatched in less than one verse. This is the pattern of the Priamel we have already found in Petronius.26 Here we shall only remark that it is also found in some compositions in the collection of the Priapea.27 By placing himself at the summit of the Priamel Encolpius claims the same status as the mythological heroes celebrated in the highest literary genres, like, for example, Telephus in tragedy and Ulysses in Homer’s epic; and, of course, he also places Priapus’ wrath at the same level as the anger of the most powerful Olympian deities. Whereas the prayer of the preceding poem unveiled its parodic nature only when put in relation with the humorous context of Encolpius’ impotence, in this second composition irony permeates the very body of the poetical text, inasmuch as Encolpius’ plight and Priapus’ ridiculous figure are associated with the misfortunes of the most illustrious heroes of myth and literature. Here Encolpius puts into practice the parody of dignified literary genres he had shortly before advocated in theory, by associating his own address to his mentula with Ulysses’ speech to his heart in the Odyssey and to Oedipus’ words to his own eyes in Sophocles’ tragedy.28 Parody is even more accentuated, as through a final seal, by the last line, which alludes to one by Virgil (Hellespontiaci servet tutela Priapi),29 but pointedly reverses its benevolent meaning: Hellespontiaci sequitur gravis ira Priapi.30 But the reader who remembers his Virgil can discover much subtler hints and parodies. In fact, in my opinion, our poem makes parodic use of the dialogue between Venus and Neptune at the end of Aeneid 5.31 The first line uttered by Venus (Aen. 5.781 Iunonis gravis ira neque exsaturabile pectus) is reflected at the beginning and at the end of Petronius’ poem (v. 8 gravis ira Priapi; v. 1 et implacabile fatum). Petronius’ second line begins with prosequitur followed by a pause, just like a line in Virgil’s speech of Venus, where we have insequitur (Aen. 5.792 cineres atque ossa peremptae [Troiae] / insequitur). Shortly after Venus, hinting at the dangers Aeneas faces in the sea, calls this the realm of Neptune (Aen. 5.792 in regnis hoc ausa tui), and Neptune himself uses 26 27 28

    29 30

    31

    270

    See ch. X, beginning. Priap. 9; 36; 39; and the already mentioned 75 (above, note 22). Cf. Schissel von Fleschenberg 1911, 269-270. Petr. 132.13 non et Ulixes cum corde litigat suo, et quidam tragici oculos suos tamquam audientes castigant? Cf. Hom. Od. 20.13-22; Soph. Oed. tyr. 1268-1276. See ch. XVII, text to notes 28-34. Verg. georg. 4.111. According to several scholars, Sidonius Apollinaris had this verse in mind when he alluded to Petronius’ work (Sidon. Apoll. c. 23.157 = Petr. fr. 4 Hellespontiaco parem Priapo). Cf., lastly, Jensson 2004, 101-102. Virgil’s, and perhaps Petronius’ lines can also be thought to have influenced Auson. 14 (Cupido cruciatus), v. 68 Hellespontiaci ridetur forma Priapi. Verg. Aen. 5.781-815.

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) the same expression when reassuring her (Aen. 5.800 fas omne est, Cyhterea, meis te fidere regnis). Once more Petronius reverses Virgil’s benevolent image in line 6 of his poem (regnum Neptuni pavit Ulixes). Finally, in the speech of Virgil’s Neptune there is an allusion to the myth of Laomedon, which is one of the themes of Petronius’ poem (Aen. 5.810-811 cuperem cum vertere ab imo / structa meis manibus periurae moenia Troiae). The likening of the mythological heroes’ misfortunes to Encolpius’ also throws a parodic light on the topic of consolatory writing which can easily be recognized in the poem: the theme of common misfortune, non tibi soli.32 The text of our poem offers some more problems. At line 2 I read Inachia… ora. The first word is given in this form by all manuscript, while tradition is divided as far as the second one is concerned; both ora and ira are attested, though the latter may have been influenced by iram (v. 5) and ira (v. 8).33 Consequently, I understand as follows: “Hercules, the hero of Tiryns, chased from (exagitatus) the land (ora) of the Inachus, bore the weight of the sky on his shoulders”. This interpretation allows us to forgo Delz’s correction of Inachia to Inachiae (accepted by Müller after his first edition), which is necessary in order to understand “persecuted (exagitatus) by the wrath of the goddess of the land of the Inachus”, i.e. Juno of Argos; but the lack of the express mention of the persecuting deity poses no problem: the same happens in the case of Telephus; and in this way an awkward repetition is avoided, since the goddess is mentioned by name at line 4 (Iunonem Pelias sensit). The words tulit inscius arma (v. 4), which must refer to Telephus, if we accept the transposition of lines 4 and 5, are printed between cruces in all of Müller’s editions later than his first one published in 1961. The transmitted text can be saved in two ways: either by taking tulit in the sense of “suffered” (Telephus was in fact smitten with Achilles’ spear, not knowing – inscius – that only the same weapon could heal him);34 or by assuming that Telephus believed he was fighting with Achilles, not knowing (inscius) that his real enemy was Bacchus, who caused him to stumble on a vine shoot.35 32 33 34

    35

    Cf. Conte 1996, 93 n. 21. As also remarked by Courtney 1991, 44. Delz 1962, 684, however, proposes Inachiae. This is the interpretation of Ciaffi 19672, 355; Canali 1990, 261; Scarsi 1996, 249 n. 7. Courtney 1991, 44-45 thinks it necessary to understand tulit this way, but corrects the text (tulit ictus Iacchum). Cf. already Courtney 1988, 76. This is the interpretation of Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 349: “Telephos kämpfte ahnungslos”; Aragosti 1995, 629 n. 439. Cf. Pind. Isthm. 8.107-110; Apollod. epit. 3.17. Fernando García Romero reminds me of the Archilochus fragment recently published by Dirk Obbink (POxy 4708), in which Telephus plays an important role (cf. Luppe 2006; Obbink 2006; West 2006; D’Alessio 2006; Henry 2006; Magnelli 2006, 9-10; Nicolosi 2006; Tammaro 2006), though not related to the situation hinted at in our poem. 271

    Chapter XVIII 3. It is now time to tackle the most important problem posed by our two poems. We have seen that the second ends with Encolpius’ declaration (clearly the two first-person pronouns, me… me, refer to him) to be persecuted by the god Priapus, as the previously mentioned mythological heroes by other deities. Over 120 years ago the German scholar Elimar Klebs based himself on this poem and on the undeniable parodic references to scenes and episodes of the Odyssey often found in the fragments of Petronius’ novel that came down to us, and particularly in the Croton episode, 36 to support his theory according to which the wrath of Priapus was the theme granting unity to the novel as a whole, including the parts that are lost, and played the same role as the wrath of Poseidon against Ulysses in the Odyssey.37 It cannot certainly be denied that Ulysses is the last mythological hero mentioned in 139.2. Klebs’ thesis enjoyed great success and even today it is accepted by a number of scholars, at least in its general lines.38 It cannot in fact be denied that Priapus does play an important role in the parts of the Satyrica we can still read.39 Limiting himself to these, already González de Salas, in the XVII century, had emphasized his role.40 The Spanish scholar saw the origin of the god’s wrath in the defilement of Quartilla’s Priapic ceremonies mentioned at chapter 17.41 This approach fits the text as we have it much better, and today many scholars believe that Priapus’ role in the novel, though no doubt very important, was not so all-pervading as maintained by Klebs.42 In particular, as we shall presently see, it is hardly warranted to assert that Priapus’ wrath pursued Encolpius from the very beginning of the novel, i.e. already at Marseilles. Clearly, our two poems constitute two crucial texts for the correct evaluation of the role of Priapus’ wrath and for the interpretation of Petronius’ work as a whole, but before we analyze them in detail it is necessary to make a few general points. First of all, we must make it clear that literary parody is one of the novel’s constitutional elements: this entails the fact that parody does not result 36 37 38

    39 40 41 42

    272

    For these see e.g. Sullivan 1968, 93; Barnes 1971, 162-163; Courtney 1991, 45. Klebs 1889, espec. pp. 628-633. E.g. Sullivan 1968, 73, 92-93; Walsh 1970, 76-77; McDermott 1983; Richlin 19922, 191-192; Aragosti 1995, 528 n. 435 (self-contradictory: on the one hand he admits that the wrath of Priapus is the novel’s leitmotif, on the other he remarks that at Croton Encolpius only gradually realizes he is being persecuted by the god: see below); Connors 1998, 26-28; Plaza 2000, 39. Cf. Petr. 17.8; 21.7; 104.1; 137.2; and, of course, 133.3 and 139.2. Cf. also 60.4. Ap. Burman 1743, II, 286-287. Petr. 17.8 quod in sacello Priapi vidistis; cf. 16.12. Below, text to note 106. After Heinze 1899, 501-502 and n. 1, Rankin 1966, 226-230; Barnes 1971, 179 n. 4; Coffey 1976, 185; Courtney 2001, 155. There are also scholars who believe that Priapus’ persecution mainly exists in Encolpius’ mind: Van Thiel 1971, 63-65; Beck 1973, 55-56; Conte 1996, 93-96; Jensson 2004, 105, 171. Others roundly reject Klebs’ thesis: e.g. Veyne 1964a, 320; Raith 1971; Baldwin 1973, Slater 1990a, 182.

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) from the presence of the epic and tragic theme of a persecuting deity; quite the other way around: it is the parodic leaning of Petronius’ work that brings about the presence of this theme. As adroitly remarked by Gian Biagio Conte,43 Encolpius is a “literary mythomaniac” compulsively associating his own circumstances with those of the heroes celebrated by literature. This allows Petronius – the “hidden author”, as Conte calls him – freely to develop his parody of high literary genres. We should not be surprised, then, if Encolpius fancies himself as the butt of a god’s persecution, like the heroes of epic and tragedy.44 But, as we shall see, he does not come immediately to this conclusion. Several scholars have remarked that the figure of the persecuting deity is found not only in high literary genres, but also in the much humbler one to which Petronius’ work formally belongs: the novel.45 Though I do believe the Greek novels of idealized love to have developed earlier than Petronius and the parody of high literary genres to be inextricably intertwined with the parody of this type of novels in his work,46 it can hardly be denied that the theme of divine persecution, though not lacking, is not greatly developed in the Greek novels, at least in those which came down to us.47 In this connection we may remark that the most active divine – or superhuman – force in Petronius’ novel is fortuna.48 A recent attempt to see fortuna and the wrath of Priapus as two different aspects of the same persecuting force amounting to the novel’s unifying leitmotif49 does not, in my opinion, substantially contribute to its interpretation. Some more interesting points may perhaps be made through a comparison with some compositions in the collection of the Priapea. One of these, Priapeum 68, contains an obscene rereading of the Iliad and the Odyssey placed in the mouth of Priapus; but it hardly seems to me to be, as it has been maintained,50 a forerunner of Petronius’ novel, to be interpreted as an Odyssey in which Encolpius plays Ulysses’ role, and Priapus Poseidon’s. The Satyrica is a much richer and more subtly nuanced work than the coarse parodic pattern we 43

    44 45 46 47

    48 49 50

    Conte 1996, 93-96. Conte, however, fails to emphasize Encolpius’ psychological evolution, which only gradually leads him to conclude that he is persecuted by a god. See below. Collignon 1892, 241 considers 139.2 to be a parody of tragedy, rather than epic. Cf. Heinze 1899, 501; Rankin 1966, 227; Aragosti 1995, 529 n. 441. See app. III. This is emphasized by Courtney 1962, 95. In Xenophon of Ephesus Eros is angry at Habrokomes (Xenoph. Eph. 1.2; 2.1); in Chariton Aphrodite gets angry at Chaereas (Charit. 8.1); In Heliodorus Charikleia complains about Apollo’s persecution (Heliod. 1.8). Jensson 2004, 106-108 rightly remarks that this theme in novels is very different from its treatment in epic, where gods take an active part in the action. Cf. Heinze 1899, 502; Schissel von Fleschenberg 1911, 264; Jensson 2004, 106. Cf. Petr. 13.1; 13.4; 82.6; 100.3; 101.1; 114.8; 125.2; 141.1. Plaza 2000, 203. By Rankin 1966, 236-241. 273

    Chapter XVIII find in this Priapeum. There is, however, another Priapeum which can be fruitfully compared not with a more or less hypothetical reconstruction of the whole novel, but with the episode of Encolpius’ impotence at Croton – the one in which our two poems appear. I am referring to Priapeum 8351 – which is attributed to Tibullus in the manuscript tradition –, where we find a speech by a man affected by sexual impotence. At the beginning he sees the cause in the anger of the gods (v. 1: quid ira nuntiat deum?).52 Shortly after, however, he charges Priapus,53 in whose sphere of influence all aspects of sex life obviously fall, as made clear by other Priapea too.54 In this composition the victim claims to have deserved no punishment and to have always taken good care of the statue of the god,55 and for this he declares himself free from any reverential obligation toward him.56 From now on he will leave his statue neglected and exposed to the insults of dogs and pigs.57 Clearly, Petronius has reversed the theme: in his prayer Encolpius declares himself guilty, though of a venial offense, committed with just one part of the body, which shortly we shall try to determine (133.3.9 facinus non toto corpore feci; 11 culpaeque ignosce minori), and the animals, including a piglet, will be sacrificed to Priapus, instead of damaging his statue. Priapeum 83 offers more parallels with the episode of Encolpius’ impotence: it contains an address to the mentula, with a threat of punishment – two themes that we find, creatively transformed in Petronius too.58 The contacts with this Priapeum highlight Priapus’ crucial role in the Croton episode of the Satyrica, but hardly prove that his wrath was the unifying leitmotif from the very beginning of the novel in Marseilles. Clearly, Encolpius is anything but impotent in the previous parts of the novel, in spite of the contrary opinion of one of the most authoritative Petronian scholars, my friend Gareth

    51

    52 53 54 55

    56 57 58

    274

    The comparison is suggested by Barnes 1971, 171-172, who, however, does not emphasize the transformation of the theme at the hands of Petronius. More recently Franzoi 1998. Cyron 2006 believes the Priapeum to be influenced by Petronius. Cf. Petr. 139.2.8 gravis ira Priapi. Priap. 83.6-18, espec. 14 vale, nefande destitutor inguinum. Cf. e.g. Priap. 37; 81; also CE 1504A. For Priapus as a healer (e.g. Priap. 37) cf. Weinreich 1909, 183-184 n. 6. Priap. 83.9-13 at, o Triphalle, saepe floribus novis / tuas sine arte deligavimus comas, / abegimusque voce saepe, cum tibi / senexve corvus impigerve gracculus / sacrum feriret ore corneo caput. Priap. 83.15 vale, Priape, debeo nihil tibi. Priap. 83.16-18 iacebis inter arva pallidus situ, / canisve saeva susque ligneo tibi / lutosus affricabit oblitum latus. See ch. IV on 132.8.

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) Schmeling.59 In the parts that came down to us it is quite clear that he is not impotent before arriving at Croton.60 Besides, in the collection of the Priapea Priapus never threatens his offenders with impotence, but rather with sexual frustration for lack of a partner.61 Some years ago the Swedish scholar Maria Plaza tried to support the idea of the god’s persecution from the very beginning of the novel by suggesting that it may take either the form of impotence or of sexual frustration due to outside circumstances.62 This, however, hardly fits the text we can still read. Encolpius is not merely saddended, but also surprised at his failure with Circe, and, far from having always been unable to satisfy his erotic cravings, he has the reader know that before being affected by impotence he was an Achilles in love play.63 Finally, and most important, the very idea that Encolpius has been persecuted by the wrath of Priapus from the beginning of the novel is based on the conception of his impotence as a punishment; but we shall presently see that at first Encolpius regards it as a fault for which he must ask for forgiveness (133.3.11 ignosce), and that only at the end will he come to conceive of his persistent complaint as a consequence of the god’s wrath. 4. As we have said, in his prayer to Priapus Encolpius asks for forgiveness for a venial fault committed with just one part of his body. Although this detail seems to be a rather telling indication of the nature of his fault, the scholars’ opinions diverge. We may immediately reject the interpretation of those who see Encolpius’ fault in his shameful love-affairs64 or even in his homosexual liaison with Giton:65 it is enough to leaf briefly through the collection of the Priapea to realize that these are no faults that might offend Priapus. In his prayer Encolpius repeatedly refers to a state of “want” or “helplessness” (inopia), which has been the cause, but also the extenuating circumstance of his fault (vv. 8-9 inops et rebus egenis / attritus; 10 quisquis peccat inops minor est reus). Several scholars believe that through the words inops et rebus 59 60

    61 62 63 64 65

    Cf. Schmeling 1994-1995, 213. Jensson 2004, 104 n. 235 objects that, if it were so, Encolpius’ surprise when he discovers to be impotent could not be explained. Cf. Petr. 11.1; 79.8. During the orgy with Quartilla his failures are due to exhaustion (20.2) or revulsion (23.5); but clearly Encolpius did his duty with Quartilla (24.7). It might even be suggested that at 20.2 inguina mea mille iam mortibus frigida may be an allusion to repeated performances. For sexual climax described as “death” see ch. VII, text to notes 36-37. Cf. Priap. 23; 47; 58. As Herter 1932, 223 adroitly puts it, Priapus “fures ne habeant unde libidinem expleant, precatur”. Plaza 2000, 67. Petr. 129.1 funerata est illa pars corporis qua quondam Achilles eram. La Bua 1999, 326. Walsh 1970, 77-78; McDermott 1983, 83. 275

    Chapter XVIII egenis Encolpius is alluding to his economic poverty,66 and refer to the testimony of Servius, Virgil’s commentator, who reports having read in Petronius the description of a custom of the city of Marseilles according to which, when a plague was raging, a poor citizen volunteered as a scapegoat, on condition of being fed at public expenses during a whole year.67 They take it for granted that one of these volunteers was Encolpius, whose poverty would thus be demonstrated. If, as they assume, Encolpius disappeared before the end of the year, this would amount to an offense to the god; that Priapus was somehow involved is deduced from Sidonius Apollinaris’ testimony we have mentioned above, in which Priapus and Marseilles appear jointly.68 This explanation seems convincing at first glance, but it totally disregards the other circumstance connected with Encolpius’ fault: non toto corpore feci; his “sin” did not involve the whole body, but only one part. Incredible as it seems, there are scholars who consider these words to be too general to indicate a definite action!69 Those who tried to reconcile Encolpius’ inopia in the sense of economic poverty with the words non toto corpore feci were forced to devise purely fanciful reconstructions; suffice it to refer to Conrad Cichorius, according to whom, at Marseilles, Encolpius disguised himself as Priapus and punished the thieves of fruit in orchards and gardens in the way often threatened by the god in the collection of the Priapea: through sexual rape.70 Curiously enough, Jensson, though declaring Cichorius’ reconstruction untenable,71 repeats it later on totally unchanged, except for the application to Quartilla’s Priapic ceremony in Campania, which, according to Jennson, Encolpius defiled by passing himself off as Priapus.72 In my opinion, instead, the words non toto corpore feci have a meaning only if they refer to Encolpius’ impotence with Circe, as it is of course maintained by several scholars.73 Clearly, therefore, Encolpius’ allusions to inopia do not refer 66

    67 68 69

    70 71 72

    73

    276

    So already Klebs 1889, 624, followed by a great number of scholars: e.g. Heseltine 1913, 199; Pack 1960, 32; Sullivan 1968, 41; Scarsi 1996, 233, 235; Walsh 1996, 135; Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 140; Rimell 2002, 101; Jensson 2004, 104, 165-166. Serv. ad Aen. 3.57 = Petr. fr. 1 Müller. Sidon. Apoll. c. 23.155-157 et te Massiliensium per hortos / sacri stipitis, Arbiter, colonum, / Hellespontiaco parem Priapo. Cf. above, note 30. Klebs 1889, 624; Sullivan 1968, 41 remarks that it is impossible to identify the nature of Encolpius’ facinus (he thinks of a theft or the revelation of a secret). Cf. also Landolfi 2007, 206. Cichorius 1922; cf. Rose 1966, 297. Jensson 2004, 104, n. 234. Jensson 2004, 169-170, 179. Jensson goes as far as quoting the same texts as Cichorius (Ioseph. Flav. ant. Iud. 18.66 ; Ps. Aeschin. ep. 10), in which a man passes himself off as a god with purposes of sexual exploitation. In Italian literature one of Boccaccio’s novellas (Decam. 4.2) develops the same theme. Heinze 1899, 502 n. 1; Schissel von Fleschenberg 1911, 256; Herter 1932, 316; Ciaffi 1955, 113; Raith 1971, 120; Merkelbach 1973, 85; Courtney 1991, 37; Courtney 2001, 154-155.

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) to economic poverty. At Croton, besides, Encolpius is anything but poor, thanks to the scheme devised by Eumolpus at the legacy hunters’ expenses. Already in the XVII century Dousa and González de Salas74 read inops et rebus egenis / attritus75 as an explicit reference to what Circe had called paralysis.76 With no need to assume such a direct allusion, these words may be easily taken as a reference to a situation of weakness, inability, helplessnes, or impotence in any sense, as pointed out by several scholars, and by Courtney in particular.77 Among many others, a parallel in Silius Italicus provides a clear proof that the expression rebus egenis can perfectly apply to any difficult situation requiring help (ops), precisely a situation of inopia (“helplessness”): quis rebus egenis ferret opem? These words refer to Anna’s situation after Dido’s death, when Iarbas forced her to leave Carthage.78 Clearly, then, Encolpius refers to his impotence with Circe, which is a fault, a facinus, but at the same time a venial sin, a minor culpa, since it was not committed intentionally, but due to the inability to act in a different way (v. 10 quisquis peccat inops minor est reus). For what it may be worth, we will call attention to the fact that this is also how the excerptor of the Florilegia tradition understood these words, which he transmitted as a morally meaningful sentence, while omitting all the rest of the poem, thus making them applicable to any inevitable but inintentional misbehavior. There is no need to explain why impotence is an offense against Priapus.79 On the other hand, this is confirmed by an elegy of Ovid’s offering many parallels with the episode of Encolpius’ impotence.80 There is no need to point them all out;81 but we should at least emphasize that, while relating an accident simi74 75 76 77 78 79

    80 81

    Ap. Burman 1743, I, 822; II, 274 (“hoc nequiter dictum, nec aliter sumi potest”). They read these words in the form inops et rebus egenis / attritis. Petr. 129. 6 narrabo tibi, adulescens, paralysin cave. Courtney 2001, 155. Sil. It. 8.54-55. Anna was received by Battus, the king of Cyrene, but could not count on his help for long (62-63 nec longius uti / his opibus Battoque fuit). Cf. Heinze 1899, 502 n. 1: “wieso das Gemeinte als Frevel gegen Priap gelten konnte, liegt auf der Hand”. In chapters XIII and XIV I have suggested that Encolpius’ impotence with Circe may be the retribution, in the form of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” and almost of Dantesque contrappasso, for Encolpius’ blasphemy, when at 126.18 he calls Jupiter old and impotent; but the effect of punishment for this blasphemy amounts, in turn, to an offense against the god of sex: Priapus. Ov. am. 3.7. Ovid’s first hypothesis concerning the cause of his impotence is witchcraft (am. 3.7.2736 ~ Petr. 128.2); afterwards the idea that not having taken advantage of the opportunity was an offense against the gods is formulated (3.7.43-46 ~ 133.3.9 and 11); the reproach to the mentula follows (3.7.69-72 ~ 132.9-10); finally, the puella attributes Ovid’s impotence to witchcraft or to previous sexual excess (3.7.79-80; in Petronius Circe formulates the second hypothesis – 129.8 –, while Chrysis believes in witchcraft – 129.10). The numerous parallels between Ovid’s elegy and the Petronian episode are pointed out in detail by Barnes 1971, 164-166. 277

    Chapter XVIII lar to Encolpius’, Ovid remarks that his failure to take advantage of the opportunity the gods had granted him amounts to an offense against them: credo equidem magnos, quo sum tam turpiter usus, / muneris oblati paenituisse deos.82 In Petronius the idea that impotence is a fault and a “sin” is confirmed even outside our poem: it is expressed by the witch Proselenos (134.2 nec contentus ipse peccare) and repeatedly by Encolpius himself in his letter to Circe (130.1 numquam… ante hunc diem usque ad mortem deliqui; 130. 6 si culpam emendare permiseris); but, like in his prayer to Priapus, with Circe too Encolpius declares himself worthy of forgiveness, since his fault was committed because of unintentional inability (130.4 illud unum memento, non me sed instrumenta peccasse. Paratus miles arma non habui). A seeming difficulty remains: if the offense against Priapus and Circe is impotence, the fault and the punishment would be identical.83 We may be confronted with a humorous twist of the Stoic doctrine of moral responsibility, according to which, though we can only act as established by fate, we are nevertheless responsible in our capacity of executors.84 Though Encolpius says non me sed instrumenta peccasse, he is himself responsible, through his recalcitrant mentula. His punishment consists precisely in being condemned to the impossibility to make amends, i.e. to the continuation of his miserable circumstances. 5. If the fault for which Encolpius asks for forgiveness is nothing but his own impotence, the words through which he declares his innocence as far as murder and sacrilege are concerned do not pose further problems (133.3.6-8 non sanguine tristi / perfusus venio, non templis impius hostis / admovi dextram). Whether Encolpius committed these crimes or not is immaterial, since they are surely not the faults for which he now demands forgiveness. The weakness of the thesis of Priapus’ wrath as the leitmotif of the novel since its beginning is now exposed. Klebs,85 for instance, suggests that, by stating that he never assailed temples, Encolpius is really trying to extenuate some sacrilege he had really committed at Marseilles, for which Priapus is persecuting him since the beginning of the novel. He forgets, however, that Encolpius also denies having committed murder. In this case there is no escaping the dilemma: Encolpius either is or is not a murderer. It is difficult to assume that his declaration of innocence should be judged differently in reference to the two different crimes.

    82 83 84 85

    278

    Ov. am. 3.7.45-46. As remarked by Raith 1971, 120, who is nevertheless convinced that Encolpius’ fault can only be his impotence. See Setaioli, forthcoming. Klebs 1889, 625.

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) Other scholars trust Encolpius’ declaration of innocence.86 Its truth or falsehood cannot, however, be separated from the thorny problem of Encolpius’ “criminal dossier”, as Roger Pack calls it,87 which we shall tackle shortly. But first we must emphasize that such declarations currently occur in prayers, in which the worshipper, before addressing his request to the god, must claim to be pure and innocent.88 Even the confession of lesser faults, while claiming to be innocent of grievous ones, as done here by Encolpius, follows a pattern well attested in religious language89 and is far from pursuing the purpose surmised by Klebs, i.e. the extenuation of a fault implicitly acknowledged and only formally denied. The closest parallels can be found in the Corpus Tibullianum: in an authentic elegy of Tibullus’90 and in one by Lygdamus;91 in this the poet declares himself innocent of grievous faults, which include murder and sacrilege. Encolpius’ corresponding declaration, then, is nothing but a formula required in prayers and not necessarily truthful, as already remarked by several scholars.92 Though Encolpius may be guilty of murder and sacrilege, this is not what matters now. His declaration of innocence refers to the present situation, in which the fault to be forgiven is only his impotence, and it cannot be taken for a reliable evidence as far as his past is concerned.93 Those who believe Encolpius’ declaration of innocence to be truthful must reconcile it with several passages of the novel from which we may gather that in 86 87 88

    89 90

    91

    92

    93

    E.g. Van Thiel 1971, 64-64; Coccia 1973, 65 n. 244; Merkelbach 1973, 85; Schmeling 1994-1995, 222; we shall soon refer to more scholars. Pack 1960. Cf. Appel 1909, 150-151. Among the texts quoted by Appel I particularly call attention to Catull. 76.19 si vitam puriter egi; Sil. It. 17.35 si nostrum nullo violatum est crimine corpus. See also the texts quoted by Courtney 1991, 37 (Val. Max. 8.1.5; Sen. Troad. 641). This is well illustrated by Raith 1971; Merkelbach 1973, 82-86; Landolfi 2007, 203207. Tib. 1.3.51-52 parce pater! Timidum non me periuria terrent / non dicta in sanctos impia verba deos; cf. 1.2.81-84 num Veneris magno violavi numina verbo, / et mea nunc poenas impia lingua luit? / Num feror incestus sedes adiisse deorum / sertaque de sanctis deripuisse focis? Lygd. 5.7-14 non ego temptavi nulli temeranda virorum / audax laudandae sacra docere deae; / nec mea mortiferis infecit pocula sucis / dextera nec cuiquam trita venena dedit; / nec nos sacrilegi templis admovimus ignes, / nec cor sollicitant facta nefanda meum, / nec nos insanae meditantes iurgia mentis / impia in adversos solvimus ora deos. E.g. Schissel von Fleschenberg 1911, 266; Raith 1971, 120; Aragosti 1995, 505 n. 400. Slater 1990a, 130 n. 32 thinks that Encolpius changes his biography at will, declaring himself guilty or innocent according to the circumstances. Sullivan 1968, 71 wrongly states that in his prayer Encolpius avows being guilty of murder and sacrilege. Cf. Courtney 2001, 155. The present venio (v. 7) is a confirmation that Encolpius is referring solely to the present situation. I owe this remark to David Konstan, whom I wish to thank for his careful perusal of this chapter. 279

    Chapter XVIII the lost parts Encolpius did commit serious crimes, including murder and sacrilege. At the beginning of the transmitted text, Ascyltos, among other abuses, calls Encolpius nocturne percussor.94 Later on, when Encolpius is jilted by Giton, he has ended up, as he says, in a Greek city after bravely overcoming so many difficult situations – with murder as part of the list: hospitem occidi.95 Finally, in his letter to Circe after his first failure, he states that his fault against her is more grievous than those he committed in the past, including murder and sacrilege: hominem occidi, templum violavi.96 Clearly, there are reasons enough to believe that Encolpius did commit the crimes of which he declares himself to be innocent in his prayer to Priapus. Obviously, if the truth of Encolpius’ declaration of innocence is admitted, the falsehood of these three testimonies of his guilt must be proved; and, in fact, there are some scholars who daringly embark in this difficult task. Gareth Schmeling lays emphasis on Encolpius’ easily impressed personality (that of a mythomaniac, according to Conte’s definition mentioned above), in order to maintain that his confession of murder and sacrilege should not be taken seriously;97 but it is difficult to understand why Encolpius (and Ascyltos) should always lie, and tell the truth only once, and, what’s more, in a prayer, in which a declaration of innocence was required by religious language. Ascyltos’ words, nocturne percussor, are interpreted by some scholars who believe in Encolpius’ innocence as a mere abusing metaphor;98 but the adjective nocturne seems rather to refer to a definite situation or cirumstance: something 94

    95

    96

    97

    98

    280

    Petr. 9.8-10 ‘non taces’ inquit ‘gladiator obscene, quem de ruina harena dimisit? Non taces, nocturne percussor, qui ne tum quidem, cum fortiter faceres, cum pura muliere pugnasti, cuius eadem ratione in viridario frater fui qua nunc in deversorio puer est ?’ Petr. 81.3 ergo me non ruina terra potuit haurire? Non iratum etiam innocentibus mare? Effugi iudicium, harenae imposui, hospitem occidi, ut inter audaciae nomina mendicus, exul, in deversorio Graecae urbis iacerem desertus? Petr. 130.1-4 fateor me, domina, saepe peccasse; nam et homo sum et adhuc iuvenis. Numquam tamen ante hunc diem usque ad mortem deliqui. Habes confitentem reum: quicquid iusseris, merui. Proditionem feci, hominem occidi, templum violavi: in haec facinora quaere supplicium. Sive occidere placet, ferro meo venio, sive verberibus contenta es, curro nudus ad dominam. Illud unum memento, non me sed instrumenta peccasse. Paratus miles arma non habui. Schmeling 1994-1195, 222. Schmeling suggests that Encolpius would relate his killing of Priapus’ goose (136.5) in such a way as to make his listeners think of murder, and lends him these words: occidi Priapi delicias etc. But could Encolpius report the slaying of the goose with words like hominem/hospitem occidi, which he uses in the passages just quoted? Schmeling also suggests that through these confessions Encolpius is trying to impress other characters. But at 81.3 he is alone! E.g. Van Thiel 1971, 62, who quotes Cicero’s abuse bestuarius gladiator (in Pis. 19).

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) that took place by night. Others see sexual innuendo in these words.99 Percussor in this sense is found in the late elegiac poet Maximianus:100 but there the context rules out any equivocation: et percussori plaudit amica suo. In Petronius’ text, by contrast, in spite of the abusive sexual references which accompany it in Ascyltos’ speech, percussor appears to retain its current meaning: murderer. Encolpius’ self-indictment at 81.3 is even more difficult not to take seriously. First of all a meaningful detail which apparently has escaped the scholars’ attention should be emphasized. I am referring to the similarity between the Petronian situation and the one sketched in Chariton’s novel, when Chaereas, believing his beloved Callirhoe to be lost for ever, complains having overcome so many (real) dangers only to find himself jilted and derelict.101 Very probably Petronius is parodying a typical novelistic situation – which would be pointless, if the facts referred to had never taken place.102 Some scholars,103 nevertheless, interpret Encolpius’ words at 81.3 not as assertions but as a series of rhetorical questions expecting a negative answer. According to them we should supply a question mark after hospitem occidi etc., and understand: “did I by any chance kill my host?” ect. I hardly think it necessary to emphasize the unlikelihood of this interpretation. Finally, Encolpius’ confession to Circe (130.2) is taken to be a metaphor even by some scholars who admit the reality of Encolpius’ crimes. According to them, his words should be understood in this sense: “my fault toward you is as grievous as if I had defiled a temple or killed a man”.104 Possibly this interpretation stems from the fact that Encolpius might seem to ask Circe to punish precisely this fault: in haec facinora quare supplicium; one might think, therefore, that the facinora (but notice the plural) coincide with his offense to Circe. In reality, however, Encolpius is saying that though he deserves a punishment for his previous faults, the last and most grievous one – his impotence with Circe – should be forgiven, because, as he will declare to Priapus in his prayer, as well as to Circe in this very context, his fault did not depend from his intention, but from inopia, a helplessness extenuating his guilt: paratus miles arma non habui. Consequently, asking for punishment is tantamount to an avowal of the crimes 99

    100 101 102 103 104

    E.g. Mulroy 1970, 255; Coccia 1973, 65 n. 244, quoting Maximian. 5.134 et percussori plaudit amica suo; Schmeling 1994-1995, 212, 217 (giving a similar interpretation also of 81.3 hospitem occidi and 130.2 hominem occidi: pp. 220-221). Cf. preceding note. Charit. 5.10.6 ff. Habermehl 2006, 34 quotes other parallels to the Petronian situation, but not this one, which is surely the most fitting. For a comparison between Chariton and Petronius and the parodic elements in Petronius’ novel see app. III (text to notes 91-95 for this particular situation). Mulroy 1970, 254-255; Van Thiel 1971, 63; Merkelbach 1973, 86 n. 19. In fact, besides Mulroy 1970, 256, Van Thiel 1971, 63-64, and Merkelbach 1973, 83, this is also the interpretation of Heinze 1899, 502 n. 1, Schissel von Fleschenberg 1911, 166, Courtney 1991, 37, and Courtney 2001, 47. 281

    Chapter XVIII previously mentioned, as confirmed also by Encolpius’ very first words: fateor me, domina, saepe peccasse. The most natural interpretation of this passage can be no other than Encolpius’ avowal of these crimes: killing a man (perhaps his host Lycurgus) and defiling a temple. Lichas mentions a sacrilegious theft committed by Encolpius,105 and we also encounter a clear allusion to the defilement of a temple – sacellum, of Priapus, of all gods –, when Encolpius disturbed a ceremony carried out by Quartilla.106 Encolpius’ “criminal dossier”, then, cannot be lightly dismissed, but his prayer to Priapus proves that he never expected his crimes to entail divine retribution. 6. To conclude, we shall briefly analyze Encolpius’ attitude to the impotence unexpectedly affecting him. Our analysis will prove, in my opinion, that Encolpius comes to the conclusion that Priapus is persecuting him (like other gods did with mythological heroes) not at once, but slowly and gradually. Though this is admitted by some scholars,107 nobody, as far as I know, has systematically analyzed the evolution of Encolpius’ attitude to his problem.108 At first Encolpius attributes his impotence to a spell (128.2 veneficio contactus sum), and the slave girl Chrysis believes him (129.19).109 Later on he considers a pathological reason, the paralysis ironically suggested by Circe (129.5-6), who nevertheless does not rule out sexual excess with Giton.110 Encolpius also

    105 106 107

    108

    109

    110

    282

    Petr. 114.4. Petr. 17.8 in sacello Priapi; cf. 16.3 sacrum ante cryptam turbastis; 20.1 facinus. E.g. Herter 1932, 316; Schissel von Fleschenberg 1911, 267-268, who, however, is wrong in taking manus irata (140.12) as a reference to witchcraft (cf. 67.3 mala manus). Cf. Courtney 1962, 96, and Courtney 1991, 44 (though corrected in Courtney 2001, 155). Herter 1932, 316 n. 1 understood correctly. Jensson 2004, hardly sees an evolution in all the hypotheses put forward by Encolpius at different moments; besides (p. 168) he refers the veneficium to which Encolpius attributes his impotence at Croton (128.2; 138.7) to the satyrion he had drunk long before with Quartilla, in Campania (20.7). But Encolpius surely did not lose his virility after the orgy with Quartilla (cf. 79.8). Therefore his interpretation (Jensson 2004, 166-167, and already Sullivan 1968, 71) of Encolpius’ question to Giton (133.1-2) about Ascyltos’ behavior the night after the dinner at Trimalchio’s cannot be accepted. According to Jensson and Sullivan Encolpius intended to find out whether Ascyltos, who had defiled Priapus’ sacellum with him, had been affected by impotence too. This interpretation is groundless, since on that very night Encolpius was far from being impotent (79.8). The scepticism of Courtney 2001, 155, who believes the spell to be only a pretext put forward by Encolpius, is not justified. Obviously, Encolpius believes in a spell, until he must acknowledge Priapus’ persecution. The same reason is taken into consideration by Ovid’s puella too (Ov. am. 3.7.80 alio lassus amore venis). Cf. above, note 81.

    Encolpius and the Role of Priapus (Petr. 133.3; 139.2) thinks of a psychological reason, such as excessive excitement (130.5),111 but obeys Circe: he resorts to physiotherapeutic and dietetic cures (130.7-8),112 at the same time abstaining from sex with Giton (130.8). The hypothesis of witchcraft, however, still prevails; Encolpius subjects himself to Proselenos’ magic practices (131.1-7), whose outcome is nevertheless disappointing. Only after his second failure with Circe does he turn to Priapus, whom he does judge to be hostile (133.2 numen aversum), but only because, as we said, he believes he has offended him with his impotence.113 Though Proselenos repeats the hypothesis of witchcraft (134.1-2), at this point something has changed. The idea that impotence is a fault, introduced in the prayer to Priapus (and already in the letter to Circe: 130.16), becomes inextricably intertwined with the witchcraft hypothesis, even in Proselenos’ words (134.2 nec contentus ipse peccare). From now on, after Encolpius’ repeated failures and the ineffectiveness of remedies, the different hypotheses tend to get mixed up; Oenothea, a priestess of Priapus but a sorceress too, carries out some magic rites on Encolpius, but calls his ompotence a disease (morbus: 134.10). Even after his final failure and his escape from the hands of the sorceresses, Encolpius, speaking to himself – and therefore sincerely –, still thinks of witchcraft as the most probable reason; but now he is not so sure any more (138.7 partes veneficio, credo, sopitae). At last, as nothing avails – not magic, nor medicine, nor prayer – Encolpius comes to the conclusion to be the victim of a god’s persecution, like the heroes of mythology and literature. The persecuting deity, of course, can be no other than Priapus; it is even possible that now – but not before now – Encolpius may connect his plight with some fault (different from his present impotence) committed in the past, which now appears to him as the cause for the god’s wrath and for the impotence affecting him – which he from now on (but only from now on) will see as that fault’s punishment.114 In the few more pages that still survive Encolpius does not seem to change this opinion: Priapus is surely the numen inimicum that once more makes him impotent with the boy from Croton;115 and the manus irata116 whose malevolent influence will be finally overcome through Mercury’s help is surely his. 111 112 113 114

    115 116

    Psychological reasons for impotence are also found at Priap. 80.7-8 sed potuit damno nobis novitasque pudorque / esse. For the parody of medical prescriptions in this passage see Migliorini 1997, 193-194. Barnes 1971, 170 rightly believes the prayer to be just an attempt, in order not to omit any possible remedy; cf. also Van Thiel 1971, 53. The words at 139.2.7-8 per terras, per cani Nereos aequor / … sequitur gravis ira Priapi might hint at a punishment affecting Encolpius at a time and in a place far away from the moment and the location of the offense; but the allusion to epic heroes such as Ulysses and Aeneas seems more probable to me. Petr. 140.11. Petr. 140.12. Cf. above, note 107. 283

    Chapter XVIII It cannot be denied that in the episode of Encolpius’ impotence Priapus plays an important role; it seems clear, however, that the figure of the god slowly becomes more and more preeminent, most of all in Encolpius’ mind. The latter’s attitude, in fact, evolves from making no room for divine retribution to fancying an epic persecution on land and sea at the hands of Priapus.

    284

    Chapter XIX The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12)* Quicquid in orbe vides, paret mihi. Florida tellus, cum volo, siccatis arescit languida sucis, cum volo, fundit opes, scopulique atque horrida saxa Niliacas iaculantur aquas. Mihi pontus inertes submittit fluctus, zephyrique tacentia ponunt ante meos sua flabra pedes. Mihi flumina parent Hyrcanaeque tigres et iussi stare dracones. Quid leviora loquor? Lunae descendit imago carminibus deducta meis, trepidusque furentes flectere Phoebus equos revoluto cogitur orbe. Tantum dicta valent. Taurorum flamma quiescit virgineis extincta sacris, Phoebeia Circe carminibus magicis socios mutavit Ulixis. Proteus esse solet quicquid libet. His ego callens artibus Idaeos frutices in gurgite sistam et rursus fluvios in summo vertice ponam.

    5

    10

    15

    L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 2 siccatis lrtmg Memm.: spissatis Otp Samb. 7 dracones Op: leones lrt Memm. 12 Phoebeia Otp1 Samb.: Phoebeaque lrp2 Memm.

    1. This poem, the first of the four found in the episode whose protagonist is the sorceress Oenothea, and uttered by her as if to present herself, has not received all the attention it deserves. In addition, it has been treated in greater detail only in two not easily accessible works: the Canadian dissertation on Petronius’ poems by E.J. Barnes, which we have used and will continue to use extensively, but has unfortunately never been printed, and the commentary to the poems in the Oenothea episode presented by Ulrich Winter to be enrolled as a teacher in

    Chapter XIX Germany’s high schools.1 It is nevertheless a fairly important composition, amounting to the self-presentation of a character who will remain in the foreground in the next chapters, and – as is often the case with poems in the Satyrica – representing one panel of an indivisible diptych whose other panel consists in the prose context.2 It should be emphasized that in the verse there is no explicit reference to magic rites or ceremonies to be practically performed; their description is confined to the prose, whereas in the poem the sorceress’ power appears to rely on the words she utters,3 although a different approach is hinted at near the end with the allusion to Medea’s sacra (v. 12), which, by way of the mythological exemplum, introduces Oenothea’s final mention of her own artes (v. 15), which are obviously not restricted to verbal spells. Barnes has argued that the poem recited by Oenothea on the one hand amounts to a comic aria of sorts,4 while on the other it fulfills the task of a “commercial ad”5 meant to persuade the easily impressed Encolpius to entrust himself to her care.6 Winter is right in urging caution, in view of the pitiful conditions of the transmitted text;7 it can hardly be denied, however, that Barnes has a point when he calls Oenothea a fully “unionized” sorceress,8 in the sense that the powers she claims do not basically differ from those of the members of the “professional” corporation she belongs to, as we shall soon see through the numerous models and parallels available for comparison in ancient literatures.9 According to Roger Beck the poem should be regarded not as a real claim on Oenothea’s part, but as the narrator Encolpius’ “reconstruction” of what he, as an acting character in the narrated situation, expected a sorceress to claim to

    * 1 2

    3 4 5 6 7 8 9

    286

    A version of this chapter has appeared with the title La poesia in Petronio, Sat. 134.12, “ ” 9, 2009, 135-157. Barnes 1971, 148-213, and Winter 1992, 8-22 respectively Perutelli 1986, 142 correctly states that there is “un rapporto diretto, contestuale, fra la tirata poetica e la descrizione in prosa del rito magico: il contrasto fra la resa stereotipata del topos letterario da una parte e il suo rovesciamento parodico apparentemente iperrealistico dall’altra”. Petr. 134.12.9 carminibus; 11 dicta; 13 carminibus. Barnes 1971, 184: “a sort of comic aria”; 210 “a highly amusing, if outrageous, aria”. Barnes 184: “an advertisement or ‘commercial’”; cf. 211: “a professional advertisement”. Yeh 2007, 409 speaks of “images ‘publicitaires’” too. As remarked by Barnes 1971, 184, Encolpius is anything but insensible to Oenothea’s boasting: cf. Petr. 135.1 inhorrui ego tam fabulosa pollicitatione conterritus. Winter 1992, 9-10. Barnes 1971, 206: “Oenothea is fully unionized, so to speak”. It should however be emphasized, as of now, that in Oenothea’s verse (as well as in the prose context) there is no hint at necromancy and/or at the evocation of the dead, which almost invariably appear among the powers claimed by her “colleagues”. This may be due to her intention not to frighten her prospective, all too easily impressed, “customer” too much.

    The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) fit the literary clichés dominating his imagination.10 Although, as we shall soon see, Petronius conspicuously plays with the numerous topical themes connected with the literary representation of witches and magic, in order to oppose Oenothea’s shabby reality to her sensational boasting in verse, Beck’s interpretation has been rejected by a number of scholars as needlessly complicated.11 In her verse Oenothea insistently lays emphasis on her own self:12 the firstperson prononuns form a web enveloping the whole poem.13 But reiteration and repetition are not limited to this. There is a veritable framework of echoes in the poem which grants it unity and cohesion,14 and is still reinforced by the sound effect produced by a series of assonances and alliterations spanning the entire composition.15 A further unifying feature is the dactylic cadence prevailing in the whole poem.16 2. From the textual point of view our poem does not pose daunting problems. At line 2 L’s reading (siccatis… sucis) seems preferable to O’s (spissatis… sucis).17 At line 7, by contrast, O’s reading (dracones) is clearly better than L’s (leones), which is an obvious lectio facilior probably favored by the previous mention of tigers,18 as persuasively suggested, among other scholars, by Courtney19 and Winter.20 Though sorceresses boast to wield power over all wild animals, the 10

    11 12 13 14

    15

    16

    17

    18 19 20

    Beck 1973, 49: “the reconstruction of what he himself in the past, with the fervid literary imagination that he carried in all his adventures, would expect a witch to claim on first encounter”. The emphasis is Beck’s. Cf. e.g. Slater 1990a, 130 n. 33; Perutelli 1986, 134.135, As rightly remarked by Yeh 1007, 406. Petr. 134.12.1 mihi; 4 mihi; 6 meos; mihi; 14 ego. Cf. 3-4 cum volo… cum volo. Petr. 134.12.1 and 14 quicquid; 1 paret and 6 parent; 2 and 3 cum volo (cf. 14 quicquid libet); 6 flumina and 16 fluvios; 9 and 13 carminibus. Such repetitions are a characteristic feature in Petronius’ poetic technique: for 128.6 see ch. XV; for 80.9 (wrongly split in two by many editors and scholars) see ch. VIII. These are well illustrated by Barnes 1971, 194 and Yeh 2007, 408. The fl-/fr- alliteration is particularly prominent: Petr. 134.12. 1 florida; 5 fluctus; 6 flabra and flumina; 10 flectere; 15 frutices; 16 fluvios. Cf. 3 fundit; 10 furentes. Yeh notes that the insistent recurrence of this alliteration is meant to provide an internal cohesion. He does not draw the logical consequence, i.e. that the poem is a consistent whole and that lines 11-16, which, as we shall see, are expunged by many editors, should by all means be retained. This is well illustrated by Yeh 2007, 406-407. Two lines are totally dactylic (4 and 6); but dactyls also prevail in lines 1, 3, 9, 10, 13 (Yeh adds line 14, regarding Proteus as trisyllabic). Even though spissatis is preferred by Bücheler 1862, 190 (but in his later editions Bücheler adopted siccatis); Ernout 1923, 165; Ciaffi 19672, 254 (although he translates, p. 255, “con tutte le linfe essiccate”); Scarsi 1996, 236. Spissatis is also preferred by Delz 1962, 684. Wehle 1861, 57 reads spissatis… sulcis. Cf. Lucan. 6.487 avidae tigres et nobilis ira leonum. Courtney 1991, 38. Winter 1992, 14-15. 287

    Chapter XIX most commonly mentioned in the catalogs of magic feats are probably snakes, which the sorceresses sometimes burst open and sometimes merely fix in place.21 This is no doubt the meaning of iussi stare dracones (v. 7), in spite of some different and at times far-fetched interpretations.22 The most hotly debated problem from the textual point of view is of the scholars’ own making, inasmuch as it does not have the least support in the tradition nor any other compelling justification. All tradition unanimously transmits the poem as a whole, but after Wehle’s XIX century dissertation23 many editors and scholars regard the final lines (vv. 11-16) as a spurious interpolation.24 Wehle listed a great number of reasons in favor of the deletion of lines 1116, which can be thus summarized: 1) in the first ten lines the verbs are employed in the present tense, whereas in lines 11-16 there is also a perfect (v. 13 mutavit) and two forms (v. 15 sistam; v. 16 ponam)25 which, according to Wehle’s rather cryptic formulation, can be neither subjunctives, in view of the self-assurance flaunted by the sorceress, nor futures, inasmuch as they do not refer to feats related to the present situation which the sorceress actually intends to perform. 2) Line 16 (fluvios in summo vertice ponam) would be a needless repetition of what already stated at line 6 (mihi flumina parent). 3) The miracles concerning the moon and the sun are presented as the most stunning with the in21

    22

    23 24

    25

    288

    Cf. Tib. 1.8.20 cantus et iratae detinet anguis iter; Sen. Med. 686-688 serpens… carmine audito stupet (already quoted by González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 274). Cf. also Ov. met. 7.213-214; Sen. Med. 703-704 (Medea puts to sleep the dragon guarding the golden fleece). Ernout 1923, 165 translates “les dragons gardiens des trésors” (cf. Yeh 2007, 405 n. 1: “les dragons qui montent la garde”), but stare can hardly be understood in this sense, although sometimes sorceresses are associated with the dragons guarding the apples of the Hesperides (e.g. Verg. Aen. 4.483-486) and the golden fleece (e.g. Ov. met. 7.213214). A clear straining of the text to bring it in agreement with her fanciful interpretations is contrived by Rimell 2002, 152 and 160, who takes stare to mean “stand up” (incidentally, the first time assuming the presence of dracones in the text, the second of leones). A comparable interpretation, but with a sexual reference, is found in Bracht Branham-Kinney 1967, 141 n. 3. Wehle 1861, 56-60. Among editors Bücheler 1862, 190 (but not in his subsequent editions); Müller 1961, 169, and in his subsequent editions; Courtney 1991, 37-39; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 152; doubtfully Ernout 1923, 165 n. 1. Also Slater 1990a, 130 n. 33; Aragosti 1995, 510 and n. 407; Panayotakis 1995, 178 (he only considers vv. 1-10); Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 142; McMahon 1998, 85 (he only quotes vv. 1-10); Nagore 2003, 155 n. 7. These are undoubtedly two futures, as the parallel we shall establish with Verg. Aen. 4.490 (videbis) will make clear. Cf. also Barnes 1971, 214 n. 2. At any rate, Coccia 1973, 111 n. 451 is surely right in stressing the analogies in meaning and formation connecting the future and the present subjunctive. Neither scholar refers to the Virgilian passage pointed out here.

    The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) terrogative quid leviora loquor? (v. 8) and cannot be followed by further prodigies, which would inevitably produce an anticlimactic effect. 4) At line 14 solet is awkward and maladroit. 5) At line 13 the perfect mutavit does not agree with the present quiescit (v. 11). 6) At line 11 the singular flamma does not conform to correct Latin usage, that would require the plural. 7) At line 11 dicta appears peculiar. 8) The same can be said about sacris, v. 12. 9) At line 15 one can hardly see why Oenothea should refer precisely to the vegetation on mount Ida. 10) Medea’s, Circe’s, and Proteus’ mention is foreign to the poem’s goal, which is meant to glorify Oenothea herself, not other sorcerers. 11) The clear nod to Virgil at line 1326 results not from the interpolator’s direct use of Virgil, but from the alleged proverbial character of this verse detached from its context, as testified by its appearance in Pompeian inscriptions.27 To these arguments put forward by Wehle one might add a further one, proposed one year later by Bücheler in his 1862 edition, suggesting that the interpolation of lines 11-16, containing two futures in the last and next to last lines (vv. 15-16 sistam… ponam), was prompted by the hint at Oenothea’s “promise” immediately after the verse:28 an argument that can easily be reversed, as we shall see shortly. Some of Wehle’s arguments are rejected even by those who believe lines 11-16 to be spurious. For example, Courtney remarks that at line 11 flamma may be meant collectively and at line 14 solet refers to the reappearance in Virgil’s Georgics of Proteus and his transformations first described in the Odyssey.29 We shall soon see how important literary references are in this poem. We shall soon refute the remaining arguments, beginning with a brief survey of the reactions sparked by Wehle’s thesis, though proposing some new reflections even in this preliminary stage. First, however, it is mandatory to mention those scholars who, though not completely embracing Wehle’s position, attempt a compromise partly based on his thesis. Barnes, though he believes lines 11-16 to be authentic, envisages two possibilities: the verse at 134.12 could be the aggregation of two separate poems originally separated by a lost prose transition, or one poem with a lacuna in the middle.30 The first hypothesis, also envisaged

    26 27 28

    29 30

    Petr. 134.12.12-23 Phoebeia Circe / carminibus magicis socios mutavit Ulixis ~ Verg. ecl. 8.70 carminibus Circe socios mutavit Ulixi. For the Virgilian verse on Pompeian walls and its symbolical character see Tupet 1976, 228. Bücheler 1862, 190: “ansam dedisse interpolationi potest pollicitatio p. 191.6 memorata”. The reference is to 135.1 inhorrui ego, tam fabulosa pollicitatione conterritus. Bücheler’s argument is accepted by Courtney 1991, 38 and Nagore 2003, 155 n. 7. Courtney 1991, 39. Barnes 1971, 186. He seems to lean in favor of the second alternative. 289

    Chapter XIX by Yeh,31 may be immediately ruled out: the opening words of line 11 (tantum dicta valent) undoubtedly refer to a previously expressed idea and cannot be the beginning of a self-standing poem. The second is also taken into consideration by Pellegrino.32 Winter, though not ruling out a lacuna between lines 10 and 11, judges the transition not so abrupt as to be impossible.33 In reality, as we shall soon be able to appreciate, the comparisons that can be established with numerous parallel texts demonstrate, beyond doubt, not merely the total authenticity, but also the integrity and completeness of this Petronian poem. 3. Heinz Stubbe rejected the deletion of lines 11-16,34 calling attention to the fact that the three mythological exempla at lines 11-14, far from turning the reader’s attention away from the sorceress’ magic endowments, are actually introduced to confirm the power of magic, and thus, indirectly, Oenothea’s claims.35 The most resolute stand against Wehle’s position, however, was taken by Michele Coccia, in his book on the interpolations in Petronius.36 He calls attention, first of all, to Wehle’s naïve rationalism; concretely, he notes that the perfect mutavit (v. 13) is probably due to the almost literal reproduction of Virgil’s verse we mentioned above,37 and that the alternation of verbal tenses in the description of magic feats is paralleled in a corresponding passage in the sixth book of Lucan’s Pharsalia.38 Coccia’s indication should be supplemented by pointing out several more parallels not emphasized as they deserve by the scholars who investigated our poem’s contacts with comparable ancient texts.39 31

    32 33 34

    35 36 37 38

    39

    290

    Yeh 2007, 405 n. 57: “il se peut que ces six vers soient composés par une main étrangère. Il est également envisageable que ce soit un poème isolé du Satyricon, qui est joint à celui d’Oenothée”. Pellegrino 1975, 181: “ante hunc versum [134.12.11] fortasse aliquid desideratur”. Winter 1992, 18-19. Stubbe 1933, 181. Among editors the authenticity of lines 11-16 is upheld by Heseltine 1913, 302; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 140-141; and, as we saw, by Bücheler himself in the editions follwing his first one. Also by Ciaffi 19672, 342; Canali 1990, 248; Scarsi 1996, 236; Walsh 1996, 137 and 199 n. 134. Implicitly lines 11-16 are assumed to be authentic also by Rimell 2002, 160 n. 2. This remark by Stubbe is unreservedly accepted by Coccia 1973, 110-111. Coccia 1973, 109-112. Verg. ecl. 8.70. Cf. above, note 26. Coccia 1973, 110 n. 445. The reference is to Lucan. 6.452-506, where present and perfect alternate. This text was already pointed out as parallel to our poem by Collignon 1892, 165, cf. 240. Barnes 1971, 197-198, however, calls attention to the fact that there are no close textual contacts. After Collignon 1892, 165, 261-262, the most detailed – but by no means complete – list is found in Barnes 1971, 194-198 (where textual contacts are marked verse by verse), 198-206 (listing the similarities in subject matter). Numerous parallels are pointed out by Winter 1992, 10-17, 19-22 too. References to the most obvious parallels (such as Tib. 1.2; 1.8; Ov. am. 1.8; 2.1; met. 7.199-214; Prop. 4.5, etc.) appear in the

    The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) In the speech of the nurse boasting of her magic powers and feats in the Hercules Oetaeus attributed to Seneca perfect and present alternate with no recognizable criterion.40 In a papyrus scrap at first classified as magical, but later recognized as preserving a fragment of a lost Greek novel,41 a character boasts of his (or her) magical powers by enumerating the miracles he (or she) is able to perform in the future tense, but with the unexpected insertion of a present.42 This text offers another conspicuous formal contact with our poem. The anaphora cum volo… cum volo in Petronius’ lines 2-3 is matched in the papyrus by … ;43 this is a standard feature in texts proclaiming sorcerers’, but also gods’, power over nature.44 As we shall see, both classes of texts present comparable characteristics, and primarily the emphasis laid on the fact that nature obeys the will of the sorcerer or the god; but for the moment we shall point out that in a text of surely magical type – the great papyrus opening the collection of the Papyri Magicae Graecae – we witness a seemingly disorderly alternation of present and future in the description of the magic feats the entity appealed to has the power to perform.45 But the parallel that most surprisingly has not been pointed out (and, in my opinion, proves beyond doubt the insubstantial nature of Wehle’s argument) appears in Dido’s description of the Massylian sorceress in the fourth book of the Aeneid.46 This text contains a verb (promittit) which can shed light on the

    40 41

    42 43 44

    45 46

    majority of scholars who have treated our poem. Cf. e.g. Adamietz 1995, 324 n. 11; Nagore 2003, 155-161. Collignon 1892, 262 also calls attention to the similarity of the names of Petronius’ and Ovid’s (am. 1.8) sorceresses: Oenothea and Dipsas respectively. Both “goddess of wine” and “the thirsty one” betray their addiction to drink. We may add the bibulous priestess at Ov. fast. 2.571 ff. pointed out by Perutelli 1986, 140, and Propertius’ curse against the sorceress and procuress Acanthis: Prop. 4.5.2 et tua, quod non vis, sentiat umbra sitim. [Sen.] Herc. Oet. 454-463. Cf. e.g. 460 manes locuntur, siluit infernus canis. I am referring to PMich inv. 5 = PGM 34 (cf. also Betz 19922, 267-268) = StephensWinkler 1995, 173-178 (“The Love Drug”). This papyrus was recognized as part of a novel by Dodds 1952. PMich inv. 5.7-9 PMich inv. 5.2-3, 7. Here too, many instances have escaped the scholars’ attention. Barnes 1971, 195, who, as we said, offers the most detailed list of parallels, only includes Tib. 1.2.49-50 cum libet… cum libet; Ov. am. 1.8.9-10 cum voluit… cum voluit; met. 7.199 cum volui. The parallel with PMich inv. 5 is pointed out by Courtney 1991, 38. But many more instances could be added; concerning magicians, e.g., Verg. 4.488 quas velit; Prop. 4.5.9 illa velit; concerning gods Ov. fast. 1.121 (Janus) cum libuit; IG XII Suppl. 173.46 (Isis) ; 50 PGM 1.121-130, too long to be transcribed here. A translation in Betz 19922, 6. Verg. Aen. 4.487-491 haec se carminibus promittit solvere mentes / quas velit, ast aliis duras immittere curas, / sistere aquas fluviis et vertere sidera retro / nocturnosque movet manis: mugire videbis / sub pedibus terram et descendere montibus ornos. 291

    Chapter XIX Petronian sorceress’ “promise” hinted at in Encolpius’ words immediately following the poem (tam fabulosa pollicitatione): like Petronius’ Oenothea, Virgil’s Massylian sorceress “advertises” her powers. A more interesting feature concerns the similarity in the structure of Virgil’s and Petronius’ texts. We shall soon examine the latter in greater detail, but we may remark as of now that in both cases we find a transition from miracles that are such only in that they obey the sorceress’ will47 (in Virgil getting rid of love’s bonds, or vice versa) to others which subvert nature’s laws. Most notably, however, the first prodigies the sorceress claims to be able to perform are described in the present tense, whereas the last are introduced with a future (videbis); and here too, like in Petronius, these are magic feats having nothing to do with the narrated situation: the sorceress will surely have no need to shake the earth or move the forests to free Dido from the torments of unrequited love. Wehle’s argument is thus refuted in all of its implications. Concerning the allegedly problematic nature of the expression tantum dicta valent (v. 11), Coccia48 refers to a passage in Propertius in which dicta is equivalent to carmina (“poetry”, not “spells”)49 and to an Ovidian passage in which Medea uttering magic spells is described with the expression verba… dixit.50 Actually, the mention of dicta is Oenothea’s (or Petronius’) way to emphasize the power of the word, which, as we have remarked at the beginning, is nearly the only magic resort considered in the poem, as proved not merely by dicta, but also by the twice repeated carminibus, whereas practical rites are only alluded to by way of Medea’s sacra and Oenothea’s own artes. In comparable texts the power of the magic word is often expressed not merely by carmina (or cantus)51, but also by verba,52 and by vox (voces).53 Our poem’s dicta must surely be understood in the same way. Coccia then reverses Bücheler’s argument, by remarking that our poem’s last lines, far from being an interpolation prompted by the words that follow

    47 48 49

    50 51 52 53

    292

    Expressly emphasized by Virgil too: quas velit. Coccia 1973, 111 n. 448. Prop. 4.1.61 Ennius hirsuta cingat sua dicta corona. We should remember the playful association of the magic and amorous powers of his own elegiac carmina made by Ov. am. 2.1.21-28 (notice the equivalence of lenia verba [v. 22] and carmina). Ov. rem. 252-254, by contrast, resolutely opposes the poetic sacrum carmen to the magical infame carmen. Ov. met. 7.153 verbaque ter dixit placidos facientia somnos. E.g. Hor. sat. 1.8.19 (carminibus); Tib. 1.8.17 (carmina), 19 and 21 (cantus); [Sen.] Herc. Oet. 463 (cantus), 464 (carmina), 267 (carmen). E.g. Ov. met. 7.203 verbis et carmine. Cf. also note 50. E.g. Hor. epod. 5.76 vocibus; Lucan. 6.467 vocibus isdem, 483 voce; Sen. Med. 767 vocis imperio meae.

    The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) (tam fabulosa pollicitatione), are actually indispensable to understand them.54 Indeed, in spite of the openly “commercial” nature of Oenothea’s verse, the lack in it of an express reference to a “promise” comparable to the Massylian sorceress’ (promittit) transfers to the two futures (15-16 sistam… ponam) the task of making Encolpius’ hint at a pollicitatio not expressly made by Oenothea understandable. Coccia finally55 refutes another of Wehle’s objections, the one concerning the alleged peculiarity of the reference to the vegetation on mount Ida (v. 15) by accepting a suggestion made by Riccardo Scarcia, who believes Petronius may allude to Virgil’s description of Aeneas’ ships, which had once been trees growing on mount Ida.56 In this particular case, however, I believe another explanation to be more to the point. Anyone who is familiar with Latin poetry knows that it tends to express a general idea by referring to a particular, often learned, detail every time this is possible. Horace, for example, mentions nearly all the local seas the Mediterranean is comprised of and names nearly all the different winds simply to convey the idea of “sea” and “wind”. If we analyze our very poem, we shall find Niliacas… aquas (v. 4), zephyri (v. 5), Hyracanae tigres (v. 7). Naturally, famous or proverbial instances were primarily selected. Niliacas… aquas does not denote the waters of the Nile, but waters as abundant as those of the proverbially full-flowing Nile; and as far as the Idaei frutices are concerned, we should not forget that the woods of mount Ida enjoyed the poetic reputation of being so thick that Ovid is able to present as an adynaton the picture of a mount Ida stripped of vegetation.57 We shall complete this preliminary section of our refutation of Wehle’s arguments, and of the consequent deletion of lines 11-16, by emphasizing that sacra is anything but unusual to describe magical rites and ceremonies.58 In particular, precisely in connection with Medea, to whom the term is referred to in Petronius, it is repeatedly found in Petronius’ contemporary Seneca.59

    54

    55 56 57

    58 59

    Coccia 1973, 111. Barnes 1971, 186 notes that, if we delete lines 11-16, pollicitatione becomes “an orphan”. Coccia also believes fabulosa to refer to the three mythological examples at 134.12.11-14. Coccia 1973, 111-112 n. 451. Verg. Aen. 10.230-231. Wehle 1861, 59, by contrast, doubtfully refers to Petr. 127.9.1 Idaeo quales fudit de vertice flores. Ov. met. 13.324-325 ante… sine frondibus Ide / stabit. The purely ornamental function of mount Ida’s mention in comparable texts can be easily grasped through the comparison with another Ovidian passage in which merely montes are mentioned: ex Pont. 4.5.41 nam prius umbrosa carituros arbore montes. This is also noted by Winter 1992, 19, who refers to OLD s.v. 3c (“of specifically secret rites, mysteries, etc.”) Sen. Med. 750 meis vocata sacris.; 770 adesse sacris tempus est, Phoebe, tuis. 293

    Chapter XIX 4. The completion of Wehle’s refutation will now have to proceed in step with an investigation aiming to determine the structure and the meaning of our poem. Winter60 proposes a structural pattern laying emphasis first on Oenothea’s power over the earth (vv. 1-7), then over heaven (vv. 8-10); mythological figures endowed with magical powers are then evoked (vv. 11-14a), to revert to Oenothea’s power over nature in the end (vv. 14b-16). That the partitions appearing at first glance are those pointed out by Winter can hardly be denied; but a closer scrutiny will permit to detect a deeper structural principle governing our poem. In the structure established by Winter it is already possible to grasp a rudimentary climax pattern in the transition from magical miracles performed on the earth to those attaining the celestial bodies; but the real climax around which the whole poem revolves from beginning to end, in my opinion, is a different one. Once we have established that the common denominator of all the prodigies listed in the poem is their obedience61 to Oenothea’s will,62 thus proclaiming the sorceress’ power over all nature, it can easily be noticed that the first prodigies she mentions are such only in that they take place in obedience to her will and command, not for intrinsically violating or subverting nature’s laws. Drought and plenty can occur also independent of a magical action, and the same applies to water gushing out of a rock.63 The subsiding of storms and winds are equally natural phenomena. Like in the former cases, they are miraculous only when they are brought about by a thaumaturgist’s will. Three phenomena follow (concerning rivers, tigers, and snakes) in connection with which the obedience to Oenothea’s will is more markedly stressed (the verb parere, which at line 1 appeared alone, is now reinforced not with a simple hint at the sorceress’ will (cf. cum volo, vv. 2.3), but by her express command (v. 7 iussi). These are phenomena which, though a violation of natural laws is 60 61 62 63

    294

    Winter 1992, 9. As emphasized by paret / parent / iussi / cogitur (vv. 1, 6, 7, 10). For the progressive semantic intensification of these terms (a climax in its own right) cf. below. Cf. cum volo / cum volo (vv. 2, 3; also 14 libet, referred to Proteus). Petr. 134.12.3-4 scopulique atque horrida saxa / Niliacas iaculantur aquas does oppose a desolate countryside to the gushing forth of life-bearing water, but it does not denote an unnatural phenomenon at all, as it would have been the case if the rock itself or a solid object had been transformed to water – a miracle not unknown in catalogs of magical feats (cf. Prop. 4.5.12 stantia currenti diluerentur aqua; Apul. met. 1.8 saga… potens… montes diluere). What we have here is the gushing forth of a source of water from the rock caused by the sorceress’ will, like in [Sen.] Herc. Oet. 457 et sicca tellus fontibus patuit novis; something comparable even in the Bible (exod. 17.6). Winter 1992, 12 wrongly states that this miracle does not appear elsewhere in Latin literature (besides the already quoted [Sen.] Herc. Oet. 457, cf. Plaut. Pers. 41, which, however, is an adynaton), and just as wrongly regards this as the first of six unnatural, and impossible, phenomena.

    The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) not explicitly stated, might at times amount to this. The obedience of rivers and wild animals may take different forms: at Oenothea’s command rivers may, in accordance with their nature, either swell up or run dry, but they may also run backwards; tigers may attack the sorceress’ enemies, but may also lose their inborn ferocity; snakes may stop naturally, but may also be unnaturaly frozen in place. It should be remarked, however, that, as we have already observed, Oenothea does not mention her colleagues’ most common prodigy in connection with snakes: causing the latter’s unambiguously unnatural bursting open.64 This second group, then, may be regarded as the transitional link between the first group of magical feats connected with natural phenomena obeying the sorceress’ will, and the last group, describing events openly and clearly subverting nature’s laws. This final group crowns the climax structure arranged according to a pattern of gradual passage from the natural to the unnatural governing the whole composition. If this is so, obviously the hint at the rivers’ obedience to Oenothea’s will at line 6 is not needlessly duplicated by the image in line 16, as Wehle believed; it is only an anticipation, at a lower level, of the far more astonishing miracle described at the end of the poem. The crowining of the climax structure is conspicuously introduced through the interrogative in line 8: quid leviora loquor? These words mark the transition to a kind of prodigies more amazing than all the previous ones, in that they unambiguously amount to the violation of natural laws. It is no chance that the first two such prodigies are described by emphatically stressing the constraint worked by Oenothea on the celestial bodies of day and night: another climax structure, or Steigerung in its own right: we pass from the idea of obedience (paret, v. 1) in connection with natural phenomena simply obeying Oenothea’s will, to that of obedience to an express command (parent… iussi, vv. 6-7) in relation with the transitional group, and finally to that of constraint (cogitur, v. 10)65 connected with the unnatural behavior of the sun resulting from Oenothea’s magic, preceded by an the alliteration emphasizing the similar coercion forcing the moon to descend (descendit… deducta, vv. 8-9).66 The sorceresses’ claim to be able to pull down the moon from the sky is too widespread to need being supported with parallel texts: it appears elsewhere in Petronius himself,67 is found in nearly all texts comparable to ours, and goes far

    64 65 66 67

    Cf. e.g. Verg. ecl. 8.71; Ov. am. 2.1.25; met. 7.203; Lucan. 6.490. Cf. e.g. Sen. Med. 761 coacta messem vidit hibernam Ceres; Lucan. 6.498-499 cogere… cogitur. The alliteration connecting Oenothea’s coercion and the moon’s descent is also emphasized by Winter 1992, 15-16. Petr. 129.10 mulieres etiam lunam deducunt.

    295

    Chapter XIX back in time;68 but the claim to be able to reverse the course of the sun, or anyhow to wield power over it is widespread too.69 A first summing up statement (v. 11 tantum dicta valent) opens the way to a series of mythological – actually, as we shall see, myhtological-literary – exempla, preceding a second, and final, summing up (vv. 14-15 his ego callens / artibus), in which artes suggests the combination of the previously mentioned dicta, i.e. the verbal spells prevailing in the first part of the poem, with the reference to the sacra, i.e. the practical rites alluded to in connection with Medea’s mythological exemplum. The poem, then, ends by hinting at magical activity in all its complexity. Oenothea’s artes, like Medea’s sacra, blend the verbal spell (carmina magica appear once more in the mythological exempla in reference to the Homeric Circe: v. 13) with practical acts and ceremonies. Thus the way is open to the parodic description of the latter in the following prose and to the ensuing desecration of Oenothea’s poetic claims. The last prodigies mentioned in the poem continue and reinforce the climax structure ascending from the natural to the unnatural, As we have seen, pulling the moon down from the sky or influencing the course of the sun were feats included in the common stock of magical performances attributed to magicians. The last two miracles, by contrast, are formulated in a way suggesting that the sorceresses’ ordinary achievements are surpassed. Normally these limit themselves to moving the plants,70 but, as far as I know, there is no text in which a magician transplants the vegetation in the sea.71 To find an exact parallel we must look into another repertoire, which offers precise similarities with, but also undisputable differences from, the catalogs of magical feats: that of the adynata,72 a figure widespread in ancient literature, and particularly frequent in po68 69

    70

    71 72

    296

    It is already found, e.g. in Plat. Gorg. 513a and Aristoph. nub. 749-750. E.g. Ov. rem. 256; [Sen.] Herc. Oet. 462; Lucan. 6.461-462; cf. Verg. Aen. 4.489. Often, like in Petronius, the sorcesss’ power over the sun is associated with that over the moon: Ov. am. 2.1.23-24; her. 6.85-86; met. 7.207-209; Tib. 1.2.45-46; PMich inv. 5.17. The reversal of the course of the sun also appears as an omen portending misfortune. Cf. e.g. Lucan. 7.1-6. The instances are almost countless: suffice it to refer to Verg. ecl. 8.99; Aen. 4.491; Ov. met. 7.204-205; her. 6.88; rem. 255; Tib. 1.8.19; Val. Fl. 6.443. The belief in the ability of trasferring the crops from one field to another was a very old superstition in Rome. The power to move the plants was ascribed to mythological poets like Orpheus (a remain of the old conception of poetry as endowed with magical power: cf. Ovid’s joke at am. 2.1.21-28: see above, note 49). Ov. am. 3.7.57 playfully ascribes the same power to a girl’s beauty. Winter 1992, 21 arrives at the same conclusion. The close connection, but also the fundamental difference, between the adynata and the catalogs of magic miracles are correctly emphasized by Canter 1930, 32 n. 1: “in such cases [magic miracles] the figure [the adynaton] loses its proper force since the accomplishment of the otherwise impossible is the business of magic”. We shall add that nei-

    The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) etry.73 The closest parallel is found in Ovid,74 and the fact that in our poem the mention of mount Ida marks the fusion of two Ovidian adynata75 makes it certain that Petronius had the adynata repertoire in mind. The adynata do offer a great number of parallels with the catalogs of magical prodigies, but it is mandatory to keep in mind that, by their very nature, they can only refer to phenomena subverting the natural laws and intrinsically impossible without a magic intervention. It is therefore pointless to scan the repertoire of the adynata in search for parallels to the phenomena described in our poem’s first lines, which are natural in themselves and miraculous only in that they obey the sorceress’ will. We shall be justified, by contrast, in expecting the appearance of the last phenomena described in Petronius’ poem not merely in the catalogs of magic feats, but also in those of adynata.76 The fact that the case of vegetation transplanted in the sea appears only among the latter, and not in the former, probably signals the intention of laying the greatest possible emphasis on the fact that Oenothea’s ability to perform the impossible far surpasses that of her “colleagues” and “competitors”. The last feat Oenothea claims to be able to perform (place the rivers on the mountains’ summits) seems at first glance to be paralleled in numerous texts, in magical catalogs as well as in the adynata.77 But, if we carefully scrutinize all of these parallels, we shall find that the claim to place the rivers on the top of the mountains is an exaggerated magnification of the common idea, consisting in making the rivers flow backwards or merely stand still; and what is most important is that it seems to occur only here. We may conclude, then, that the ascend-

    73 74

    75 76

    77

    ther the adynata nor the magical prodigies are usually mentioned one by one; they are normally arranged in lists comprised of several elements. A nearly complete catalog of the various types of adynaton is found in Dutoit 1936. Ov. met. 14.37-38 ‘prius’ inquit ‘in aequore frondes’ / Glaucus ‘et in summis nascentur montibus algae…’. Parallels are also found in Seneca: Sen. Thy. 478-479 Ionio seges / matura pelago surget. Cf. [Sen.] Herc. Oet. 1582 ante nascetur seges in profundo. That of the passage quoted in the preceding note and that of Ov. met. 13.324-325 ante… sine frondibus Ide / stabit (also quoted above, note 57). In Dutoit 1936 it is easy to find adynata corresponding to several of Oenothea’s miracles subverting natural laws. The sun reversing its course: e.g. Ov. ex Pont. 4.6.47-48; trist. 1.8.2; wild animals changing nature: e.g. Verg. ecl. 8.52; Hor. epod. 16.33. For rivers flowing backwards see the following note. It is noteworthy that the sorceresses’ ability to pull the moon down provides the cue for one adynaton only – and of a rather peculiar type: in [Sen.] Herc. Oet. 467-471 Deianira does not deny that the nurse is capable to do this; by contrast, what appears impossible to her is that Hercules may come back. In lists of magical feats, e.g. Ov. am. 1.8.6; 2.1.26; met. 7.199-200; rem. 257; Tib. 1.2.46; Sen. Med. 762-764; Lucan. 6.472-473; cf. Apoll. Rh. 3.532; Verg. Aen. 4.489; Ov. her. 6.87. For the adynata see the list in Dutoit 1936, 168 (“Adynata du type ! ”). Cf., among many, Eurip. Med. 410; Hor. c. 1.29.10-12; Ov. met. 13.324325; her. 5.29-32; Sen. Phoen. 84-87; Stat. Theb. 7.552-553; Sil. It. 5.253-255. 297

    Chapter XIX ing climax figure proceeds uninterruptedly from the beginning to the end of the poem, and that Wehle’s contention that this could not happen after the mention of the miracles concerning the sun and the moon is therefore unjustified. 5. We have already mentioned that the mythological exempla concern Medea, Circe, and Proteus. The last two are explicitly named, but Medea too, though not named, is unmistakably indicated through the reference to the fire-breathing bulls that Jason was able to yoke thanks to her help.78 We have already remarked that the insertion of these mythological exempla, which Wehle regarded as inappropriate, is meant to provide evidence of the power of magic; but it must be added that mythological references not only are extremely frequent in the Satyrica’s poems, but often amount to one of their essential elements, especially in the part relating the adventures at Croton.79 There is more: mythological allusions almost invariably imply a reference to literary works – especially belonging to lofty literary genres, such as epic and tragedy – in which the corresponding myths were treated.80 Disregarding this aspect is equivalent to neglecting a pivotal element of Petronius’ entire work. This is apparent in our poem too. Medea and Circe, besides being literary figures, were also regarded as the traditional epitome of magical arts, and sorceresses are routinely associated with them;81 not so in the case of Proteus. But this marine god was the protagonist of two celebrated episodes, in the Odyssey and in Virgil’s Georgics,82 which centered on his ability to transform himself. We have already remarked that the verb solet, which disturbed Wehle so much, probably hints at his appearance, with an interval of centuries, in the two poets unanimously recognized as the greatest in Greek and Latin literatures.83 At any rate the two sorceresses are also seen through the prism of literature. This is apparent in the case of Circe, who is described in a verse borrowed from 78

    79 80 81 82 83

    298

    The interpretations of those who see a general reference to unidentified virgins in virgineis… sacris (v. 12) are absolutely groundless; so Ernout 1923, 165; Barnes 1971, 185; Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 142 (“by virgins’ rites”, though referring to Sen. Med. 754-759); Yeh 2007, 406 n. 1. In Apollonius of Rhodes Medea is repeatedly called a virgin: 3.547, 563, and especially 640. In Ovid too (met. 7.17 and 21) Medea emphasizes her virginal condition. We shall see that in Petronius’ poem Medea’s portrayal takes the cue from her representation in Apollonius and Ovid. Cf. also Val. Fl. 6.449. Some examples: Petr. 108.14; 126.18; 127.9; 136.6; 137.9; 139.2. Cf. chapters XI, XIII, XIV, XXI, XXII, XVIII respectively. Suffice it to mention Petr. 127.9, whose model is no less than the Homeric love scene in Iliad 14. See ch. XIV. Cf. e.g. Theocr. 2.15-16; Hor. epod. 5.21-24, 61-66; Ov. am. 1.8.5; 3.7.79; rem. 261 ff.; Tib. 1.2.53. Hom. Od. 4.363 ff.; Verg. georg. 4.387 ff. As we have also observed, quicquid libet, referred to Proteus in line 14, must be connected with Oenothea’s repeated cum volo (vv. 2-3).

    The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) a Virgilian eclogue.84 We have seen that according to Wehle the alleged interpolator did not draw directly from Virgil, but only repeated an isolated verse which had become proverbial. Courtney,85 however, has proved that in all probability the author had the whole Virgilian context in mind,86 since immediately before the reference to Circe Virgil alludes to the pulling down of the moon, which appears in Petronius too87 – which, incidentally, amounts to a further argument in favor of the authenticity of lines 11-16.88 Medea’s representation is more interesting still. The prodigy Oenothea hints at is recounted in Apollonius of Rhodes’ poem; Apollonius, however, does not say, like Petronius, that the bulls’ fiery breath subsides (quiescit), much less that it is extinguished (extincta); quite on the contrary, he forcefully stresses the violence of the flames surrounding Jason,89 who is not harmed only thanks to Mediea’s magic ointment. Clearly, Petronius’ model was not this episode but a conflation of a preceding passage in Apollonius and a follwing one in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Before the ordeals Jason must face Medea is presented in Apollonius as capable to soften the flames,90 and during the magic ceremony described by Ovid Medea herself states that the gods of magic “dulled” the bulls’ fiery breath for her.91 Clearly, in Petronius Medea’s miracle is seen through the prism of these two poetic passages, which are also formally crossed with a Virgilian reminiscence.92 I shall conclude by remarking that the linguistic structure of this first mythological exemplum is totally parallel to that of the description of the first unnatural miracle (the pulling down of the moon);93 this emphasizes more forcefully 84 85 86 87 88

    89 90

    91 92 93

    Cf. above, note 26. Courtney 1991, 38. This remark is hardly in keeping with the deletion of lines 11-16 accepted by Courtney. As Petronius’ poem, Virgil adduces the mythological exemplum to substantiate the power of magic, and, by implication, of the performer of the magical rite. Verg. ecl. 8.69 carmina vel caelo possunt deducere lunam; cf. Petr. 134.8-9. I do not mean to inquire whether and to what extent this poem’s (Homeric) Circe has something to do with her namesake acting in the Petronian episode. Barnes 1971, 199 is inclined to believe there is no connection; cf. also Slater 1990a, 130 n. 33. Connors 1998, 43 thinks she can detect a sort of crossbreeding between the magic of Homer’s Circe and that of elegy’s sorceresses and procuresses. Apoll. Rh. 3.1303-1305, 1313, 1319, 1327; cf. 1048-1049. In Ovid’s description (met. 7.110-119) this detail is much less emphasized. Apoll. Rh. 3.531 " . In the same context Medea is also credited with the power to stop the rivers and change the stars’ course. Ov. met. 7.210 vos mihi taurorum flammas hebetastis. Cf. Verg. Aen. 6.226 postquam conlapsi cineres et flamma quievit, alredy pointed out by Stubbe 1933, 181; cf. Winter 1992, 19. Compare Petr. 134.12.11-12 taurorum flamma quiescit / virgineis extincta sacris with 134.12.8-9 lunae descendit imago / carminibus deducta meis, and see Winter 1992, 19. 299

    Chapter XIX still the close connection between Oenothea’s capability to subvert the laws of nature and the comparable powers of those celebrated mythological prototypes – a further proof of the poem’s unity and the second part’s authenticity. 6. If the sorceresses’ miracles violating the laws of nature are closely paralleled in the repertory of the poetic adynata, which by their own nature refer to impossible phenomena, the power they claim to cause at will phenomena that can also occur naturally associates them to no less than divine figures. Just like gods, sorceresses claim power over nature; and Petronius surely has this association in mind when he has his repulsive Oenothea claim the same power over winds that Lucretius ascribes to Venus at the beginning of his poem.94 This reminiscence, of course, aims to enhance the parodic effect of Oenothea’s “revelation”. There is a great difference, however: the divine entity exercises its power over nature within the frame of the natural laws it has itself established and wishes to preserve, whereas the sorceress boasts of the capability to break and subvert those laws. If the expression were not exaggerated for a ridiculous figure like Oenothea, one might assert that she represents the dark, “demoniac” powers which oppose the cosmic order established by god(s); but surely Petronius has played with this effect for parodic purposes. This is demonstrated by the very opening of Oenothea’s verse: quicquid in orbe vides, paret mihi. It is impossible not to recognize in these words an allusion to what Janus says about himself in Ovid’s Fasti.95 In Ovid the god states that everything is in his power, but also that it is his task to guard the universe and make it proceed according to natural laws.96 Not surprisingly, the parallels between the powers of the gods and those claimed by Oenothea only concern intrinsically natural phenomena obeying the formers’ or the latter’s will.

    94

    95

    96

    300

    Petr. 134.12.5-6 zephyrique tacentia ponunt / ante meos sua flabra pedes ~ Lucr. 1.6 te, dea, te fugiunt venti. Cf. Rindi 1980, 128 n. 35, who also points out more textual contacts (Petr. 134.12.5 submittit fluctus ~ Lucr. 1.8 submittit flores; Petr. 134.12.1 florida tellus ~ Lucr. 1.7 daedala tellus; cf. also Barnes 1971, 195), and observes that flabra is a Lucretian term. Winter 1992, 13 also refers to the Virgilian episode in which another god, Neptune, calms the fury of the winds (Verg. Aen. 1.124-126), as well as (p. 11) to Hor. c. 1.12.29-32 and Pind. fr. 108 Sn.-M. Ov. fast. 1.117-118 quicquid ubique vides, caelum, mare, nubila, terras, / omnia sunt nostra clausa patentque manu. As remarked by Winter 1992, 10, Petronius has formally conflated this passage’s quicquid ubique vides with another frequent Ovidian turn: quicquid in orbe (Ov. ars 1.56; fast. 1.284, 494). We shall also stress once more that Ov. fast. 1.121 cum libuit corresponds to Oenothea’s cum volo (Petr. 134.12.1-3). Cf. above, note 44. Ov. fast. 1.119-120 me penes est unum vasti custodia mundi / et ius vertendi cardinis omne meum est.

    The Sorceress’ Claim (Petr. 134.12) The most interesting text from this point of view is an epigraphical aretalogy of Isis whose most complete version is found in an inscription from the island of Andros.97 Isis speaks in the first person and claims power over everything.98 She is lady of the winds, the rain, and the sea.99 But here too the goddess is the one who has established – and therefore preserves – the natural laws.100 For this reason her action in the world can be paired with Oenothea’s only inasmuch as intrinsically natural phenomena obey her will: these are the flow of the rivers, the blowing of the winds, the falling of rain, and the sea being open or closed to navigation; but Isis makes the sun and the moon follow the course she has established for them, whereas Oenothea claims the ability to pull down the moon and to reverse the course of the sun.101 The comparison with this epigraphical text proves beyond doubt that not all the powers claimed by Oenothea should be placed on the same level and that our poem is structured in the form of a climax pattern gradually but uninterruptedly ascending from the natural to the unnatural.

    97 98

    99

    100 101

    I am referring to IG XII Suppl. 173 (pp. 98-99). Cf. Peek 1930. IG XII Suppl. 173.46 ; 47 . Notice the formula (cf. 50 ), corresponding to Oenothea’s cum volo. Cf. above, note 44. IG XII Suppl. 173.39 # " ; 43 # " $ ; 54 # !%" " ; 50 # ! [ ] IG XII Suppl. 173.13 # ! " & ! ; 14 # & ' " For this reason Raith 1971, 171 n. 27 and Merkelbach 1973, 85 n. 18 are only partially right when they compare this text to the whole of Petronius’ poem. 301

    Chapter XX Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8)* 135.7 Mirabar equidem paupertatis ingenium singularumque rerum quasdam artes. 8

    Non Indum fulgebat ebur, quod inhaeserat auro, nec iam calcato radiabat marmore terra muneribus delusa suis, sed crate saligna impositum Cereris vacuae nemus et nova terrae pocula, quae facili vilis rota finxerat actu. Hinc mollis tiliae lacus et de caudice lento vimineae lances maculataque testa Lyaeo. At paries circa palea satiatus inani fortuitoque luto clavos numerabat agrestes, et viridi iunco gracilis pendebat harundo. Praeterea quae fumoso suspensa tigillo conservabat opes humilis casa, mitia sorba inter odoratas pendebant texta coronas et thymbrae veteres et passis uva racemis: qualis in Actaea quondam fuit hospita terra digna sacris Hecales, quam Musa loquentibus annis Battiadae veteris mirandam tradidit aevo.

    135.8 L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) post 4 lacunam indicavit Bücheler 5 actu Puteol.: astu 6 mollis tiliae Pithoeus teste Tornaesio, Stowasser: molli stilla(e) lacus Scaliger: latus 8 at B: et 9 clavos Samb.: clavus 11 quas Dousa 12 sorba Scaliger: sorva B: servo 13-14 commutavit Bücheler

    5

    10

    15

    Chapter XX 13 pendebant LB: pendebat RP post 14 lacunam indicavit Iunius 16 Hecale Pius: Hecates 17 Battiadae Pius: bac(c)hineas veteris Samb.: vatis Pius, Daniel: veteres mirandam nescioquis apud Goldast.: miranda Fuchs: miranti Terzaghi: mirando aevo: arte Fuchs: ore Courtney

    1. This poem, containing the description of Oenothea’s hut, is one of the most problematic from the textual point of view. In the first place, some scholars believe it not to be complete. In his 1862 edition Bücheler1 assumed a lacuna after line 4, whose existence was accepted by some later editors,2 although he associated it with a fanciful transposition of the majority of the poem’s verses3 and although Bücheler himself gave it up in his subsequent editions.4 The reasons adduced to justify this supposed lacuna are neither clear nor univocal.5 Bücheler gave none, aside from the need to transpose the verses in order to obtain a rather whimsically assumed descriptive sequence,6 which, as we said, he himself later gave up. The need to take terrae in * 1 2

    3

    4

    5

    6

    304

    A version of this chapter will appear in “Prometheus” with the title La poesia in Petr. Sat. 135.8. Bücheler 1862, 192-193, in the apparatus. E.g. by Müller in all his editions; Courtney 1991, 39. Cf. also Walsh 1996, 138, who, like Müller and Courtney, assumes a lacuna after line 4 as well as after line 14 (see below, note 16). Other scholars and editors assume no lacuna between lines 4 and 5: Heseltine 1913, 304; Ernout 1923, 167; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 142; Pellegrino 1975, 182; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 153; Stubbe 1933, 181-182; Perutelli 1986, 129; Winter 1992, 28; Aragosti 1995, 512. Bücheler 1862, 192-193 (in the apparatus) suggests this sequence after v. 4 (and an additional verse of Bücheler’s own making in lieu of an allegedly lost one): 10, 8, 9, 6, 7, 5, 13, 11, 12, 14. In his later editions Bücheler did not assume a lacuna after v. 4 any more (he did the same with another alleged lacuna after line 14: see below) and reduced the verse transpositions (he only proposed two, in the apparatus, placing vv. 6-7 after v. 9 and v. 13 after v. 14). The first of these transpositions was short-lived, but we shall see that the second enjoyed a lasting, though undeserved, success. To the point that Perutelli 1986, 129 avows not to know on which grounds the lacuna was assumed and forms the hypothesis that the placing of the pocula on the cratis saligna of Oenothea’s bed may have appeared an incongruous detail. But et in v. 4 may introduce a new trait in the description, independent of that of the straw mattress. In v. 6 too hinc may simply introduce a new descriptive detail, independent of any reference to its location. Bücheler 1862, 193: “tum ordine a virgeo stramenticioque lecto progreditur poeta ad parietem, ad suspensam clavis suppellectilem, conceptabulum pluviae, salignas lances, pocula figulina, denique ad esculenta quorum dispositio disrumpitur lacuna” (the reference is to the alleged lacuna after line 14).

    Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8) line 5 as a genitivus materiae referring to pocula, if a lacuna after line 4 is not assumed, cannot be a serious reason for doing so7 – so much so, in that a further occurrence of the genitivus materiae may be regarded as certain in line 6,8 where it is followed, with an elegant variation, by de with the ablative. The insistent emphasis placed on the material Oenothea’s humble chattels are made of – wood and clay9 – is no doubt prompted by Ovid’s description of Philemon’s and Baucis’ poor home;10 but it should not escape us that, if the poem is complete, there is an artistic chiastic arrangement,11 which is destroyed if a lacuna after v. 4 is assumed. A different reason for assuming the lacuna is given by Fuchs,12 who thought it impossible that “new cups”, even though made of clay (nova terrae / pocula) could be found in Oenothea’s shabby hut. It is true that nova could be taken to mean “strange”, “unsual” (i.e. coarse and irregular because of their cheapness);13 but I believe “new cups”, not in keeping with the prose’s old and cracked camella,14 to be perfectly at their place in the verse, which describes a poor but orderly and tidy interior, starkly opposed to the rotten and decaying one described in the prose. We shall try later to evaluate the meaning and import of this contrast; but we may as of now call attention to how unlike the fragrant fruit described in the poem is to the moldy beans and the repulsive pig’s head appearing in the prose.15 There is no valid reason, then, to assume a lacuna between lines 4 and 5 of our poem. 7

    8

    9

    10 11 12 13 14 15

    For the genitivus materiae see Leumann-Hofmann-Szantyr 1965, 52. Curiously enough, Courtney 1991, 41, though assuming the lacuna after v. 4, still refers to “cheap earthenware cups”. In the same line there is also a similar expression: Cereris vacuae nemus. Petr. 135.8.6 mollis tiliae lacus. Pithou’s correction mollis tiliae (in lieu of mollis stillae) was again proposed by Stowasser 1885, 44, and may be regarded as certain, for its paleographic likelihood as well as for the parallel in Ov. 10.92 tiliae molles, pointed out by several scholars. What has not been apparently noticed is the presence of the linden in the Ovidian episode of Philemon and Baucis, which, as we shall see, has deeply influenced both this Petronian poem and its prose context. Baucis is in fact transformed into a linden: cf. Ov. met. 8.620 tiliae contermina quercus. Lacus is Scaliger’s correction for latus. The readings proposed by Rose 1968, 260 (molliter hinc stillans lacus) and Harrison 2003, 135 (mollis tiliae calices de caudice lento) cannot be accepted. The vessels decribed in the prose context are also made of wood and clay: the camella (135.3-4) is wooden, the cucuma (135.4; 136.2), which is placed on the fire and is broken when Oenothea falls on it, is surely earthen. Cf. Stöcker 1979, 30. We shall come back later to the differences between the verse and the prose descriptions. There too vessels are made of wood or earth: Ov. met. 8.652-653 alveus… fagineus; 668 fictilibus; 669-670 fabricataque fago / pocula. We have earthenware (vv. 4-5 terrae / pocula), wood (v. 6 mollis tiliae lacus), wood (vv. 6-7 de caudice lento / vimineae lances), earthenware (v. 7 testa). Fuchs 1959, 79-80. As done by Perutelli 1986, 30. Cf. already Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 142: “bizzarri”. Petr. 135.3 camellam etiam vetustate ruptam. Petr. 135.4-6; 136.1. 305

    Chapter XX 2. The problems posed by another alleged lacuna in the text of our poem are more involved. According to an old hypothesis put forward by Iunius, it should be placed after line 14, and he has been followed by a good number of scholars.16 The reason, in this case, seems clear: those who accept the lacuna assume that a hint at the cottage’s owner, Oenothea, has been lost,17 in view of the following comparison with Hecale, the hospitable old woman who welcomed Theseus in her poor hut – a theme treated in a celabrated epyllion by Callimachus.18 A variant of this approach is represented by the opinion of those who place the lacuna not after line 14, but at the end of the poem, and assume that a description of Oenothea followed the hint at Hecale, rather than preceding it.19 It must immediately be made clear that the assumption of a lacuna either before or after lines 15-17 makes sense only if we read Hecale at line 16, thus accepting Pius’ correction adopted by several editors.20 We should not forget, however, that both branches of the Petronian tradition offer the reading Hecates; and that, if the change of t to l is necessary, and also easy from the paleographical point of view, it is more difficult to explain why an s should have been added at the end of the word.21 There are, in fact, several scholars who read Hecales,22

    16

    17

    18 19

    20

    21

    22

    306

    Among modern editors the lacuna is accepted by Bücheler 1862, 194 (but not in his later editions); Müller, in all his editions; Courtney 1991, 39; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 154. Also by Perutelli 1986, 132; Walsh 1996, 138 (cf. above, note 2). Obviously, the lacuna follows v. 13, if this is transposed after v. 14. No lacuna is assumed after line 14 by Heseltine 1913, 304; Ernout 1923, 167; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 142; Pellegrino 1975, 182; also by Stubbe 1933, 181-183. According to the apparatus of Bücheler 1862, 194, Iunius remarked: “deest versus quo describitur anus”. Cf. Burman 1743, II, 837; González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 136. For Petronius’ attitude to Callimachus in this poem see Sullivan 1985, 86-87. This is the opinion of Stöcker 1969, 33 and n. 1; Aragosti 1995, 514 and n. 414. Heseltine 1913, 304 places a series of dots at the end of the last line, as also done by Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 143 in their translation. Cf. already Burman 1743, I, 838. Winter 1992, 34 cannot decide whether the lacuna should be placed after line 14 or at the end. Among modern editors it is adopted by Bücheler 1862, 194 (but not in his later editions); Müller in all his editions; Pellegrino 1975, 182; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 154. Also by Winter 1992, 34-35; Aragosti 1995, 514. Winter 1992, 35 assumes an influence of the corrupt veteres in the following line; this is not impossible in itself, but amounts to a mere supposition, and therefore it is hardly compelling. So Bücheler, in the editions following his first; Heseltine 1913, 304; Ernout 1923, 167 (whose translation, however, supposes a nominative in the text: “telle… fut l’hotesse qui reçut Thésée, Hécalé”); Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 142. Among popular editions, e.g. Reverdito 1995, 258; Scarsi 1996, 240; also Ciaffi 19672, 344 and Canali 1990, 250, who both assume the nominative Hecale in their translation. The genitive Hecales is al-

    Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8) and with this genitive the two terms of the comparison are clearly expressed: Oenothea’s humilis casa (v. 12) on the one hand, and Hecale’s humble abode on the other. We should then understand that the sacra instituted by Theseus in Hecate’s honor after her death took place in this hospitable cottage, which well deserved them. If so, Petronius elegantly transferred to the house what in Callimachus probably applied to its owner.23 It is true that the conspicuous allusion to the opening of Callimachus’ epyllion in line 1524 might lead us to think that it should concern the woman rather than her abode, and that the nominative Hecale should thus be required. But if we look closely we realize that a transition from the person to the place has immediately begun: Callimachus’ (“a woman from Attica”) becomes in Petronius in Actaea… terra (“in the land of Attica”); and some comparisons and connections that can be established between our text and passages by other authors, and even by Petronius himself, seem to to point the same way as far as the next verse too is concerned, even independent of the fact that in this poem, totally devoted to the description of an interior, the sudden transition to that of a person would appear rather odd. It can hardly be denied that an expression like digna sacris might at first glance imply a reference to a person, i.e. Hecale, rather than to her house. Callimachus probably mentioned, in fact, a yearly sacred banquet established by Theseus to honor Hecale.25 But the usage of Petronius’ contemporaries, if it confirms that this expression may refer to a human being,26 also attests beyond doubt that it may be applied to a place,27 as confirmed by Horace, who calls a spring worthy of receiving offerings and religious honors.28 There is more: the following poem, describing in tones of epic parody Encolpius’ fight against the geese,29 picks up and develops the idea of ours. If in this poem at 135.8 Encolpius is implicitly equated with Theseus by way of the association of his host Oenothea with the old Hecale who hosted the Athenian

    23

    24

    25 26 27 28 29

    so supposed by Stubbe 1933, 182: “ein Hüttelein, so gastlich wie… war Hekales Heim bekannt”. For hospita referred to places cf. e.g. Verg. Aen. 3.539 terra hospita; 3.377-378 hospita… aequora; georg. 3.361-362 unda… hospita. Also Stat. Theb. 4.849-850 (flumina). In reference to a house, like here in Petronius, Val. Fl. 2.649-650 (tecta). Petr. 135.8.15 qualis in Actaea quondam fuit hospita terra ~ Callim. 230 Pf. = Hecal. fr. 1 Hollis . Courtney 1991, 41 associates hospita with (Callim. 263.3 Pf. = fr. 84 Hollis). Cf. Callim. 264 Pf. = Hecal. fr. 83 Hollis. See Hollis 1990, 268-269 for this and other honors for Hecale established by Theseus (e.g. an altar to Zeus Hecalesios). Actually to his ghost: Lucan. 8.841 sacris dignam… umbram, in reference to Pompey’s shadow. Cf. Sen. Tro. 1006 digna sacris aequora. Hor. c. 3.13.1-2 o fons Bandusiae… / dulci digne mero non sine floribus etc. See ch. XXI. 307

    Chapter XX hero, it follows that his battle with the geese narrated soon after in the prose corresponds to Theseus’ with the Marathon bull in Callimachus’ epyllion. In the the poem at 136.6 Encolpius’ fight is then equated with those of still more mythological heroes against monstrous creatures.30 It follows from this that the final words of the latter poem (confusaque regia caeli)31 amount to a burlesque reminder bringing back the reader’s attention to Oenothea’s hut, that had been described as orderly and tidy at 135.8, but is now reduced to a chaos of cosmic dimensions (by Encolpius’ fight with the geese, but already by Oenothea’s fall). We should not miss the implied association of the poor hut with the gods’ royal abode – which would be anticipated by the expression digna sacris in our poem at 135.8, if, as I believe, these words refer not to Hecale herself but to her cottage, which in the final lines is equated with Oenothea’s casa (which then, by implication, is also regarded as digna sacris). The flavor of this correspondence between the two poems is lost, if we read Hecale instead of Hecales at line 16. Another element favoring the connection of digna sacris with the hut – and so the reading Hecales – may be recognized at the beginning of the poem (v. 2): nec iam calcato radiabat marmore terra. The majority of Petronius’ interpreters apparently disregard the adverb iam;32 but, as here the obvious model is the transformation of Philemon’s and Baucis’ poor home into a marble temple described by Ovid,33 I believe the correct interpretation to be: “the earth did not 30 31 32

    33

    308

    For the close relation of these poems to each other see Sommariva 1996, 68-69. Petr. 136.6.5. One of the few taking it into consideration is Winter 1992, 25, who, however, interprets it in an unacceptable way; he connects iam with calcato and understands: “the earth (the floor) did not sparkle with marble already so trodden as to become shiny” (“und nicht erstrahlte der Fußboden von/in Marmorgestein, welches [von den Füßen] schon blankgetreten war”). Unacceptable interpretations are not rare in Winter. I only point out (Winter 1992, 32) that of v. 10, where viridi iunco is taken to be an ablativus materiae referring to harundo and the material of which the roof is made (apparently like Stubbe 1933, 182, and perhaps like Wouweren ap. Burman 1743, I, 836). But pendebat can hardly refer to a roof, nor can a reed be made of rushes (pace Ernout 1923, 167: “un mince balai fait de jonc encore vert”, who at least correctly takes harundo to mean “broom”: cf. Plaut. Stich. 347). Probably Courtney 1991, 41 is right: the rush “is probably used like a rope, and from it hangs a harundo, probably used as a broom”. For another unacceptable interpretation of Winter’s see next note. Ov. met. 8.701 adopertaque marmore tellus, crossed with Sen. ep. 16.8 terram marmoribus abscondas,… tibi licet… calcare divitias. Cf. also Sen. ep. 86.7 eo deliciarum pervenimus ut nisi gemmas calcare nolimus; Lucan. 10.117 calcabatur onyx; Mart. 12.50.4 calcatusque tuo sub pede lucet onyx. Cf. ch. XVI n. 77. In the light of these parallels I believe Perutelli 1968, 128 to be right in interpreting muneribus delusa suis (v. 3) as meaning “beffata con i suoi stessi doni”, inasmuch as the earth “viene ricoperta e nascosta dal marmo che essa stessa dona agli uomini”. Perutelli also refutes some different interpretations, to which add Winter 1992, 25, who understands “deprived of her own gifts” (“Erde, welche um ihre eigenen Gaben getäuscht worden ist”), in the sense

    Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8) shine already (or “yet”: iam) with a marble floor”.34 Petronius, who in the prose offers a sordid picture of Oenothea’s hovel, but an idyllic and idealized one in the verse, appears to be mockingly suggesting that it is not yet, but will eventually become a marble temple, like Philemon’s and Baucis’ abode, which has lent so many colors to the picture he is presenting here. But if Oenothea’s hut is indirectly associated with a temple, the same applies, in force of the transitive property, to Hecale’s, which is paired with Oenothea’s at the end of the poem. Hecale’s hut is then digna sacris, and this once more leads to prefer the genitive Hecales in line 16. At any rate, even if we read the nominative Hecale, a lacuna must not necessarily be assumed. In our poem an ellipsis can be recognized from the very first lines.35 It is not impossible, then, that if Hecale is read at line 16 the other term of the comparison should be derived from the preceding description of Oenothea’s hut by proceeding from the house to the owner. As for the lack of a talis in correlation with the qualis in v. 15, we should not forget that structures of this type are not uncommon in the similes of Petronius’ poems.36 Therefore, a lacuna is not unconditionally necessary even if we accept the nominative Hecale. It should rather be noted that the our poem’s last lines amount to a “metaliterary” simile, and thus fit in an easily recognizable trend of the whole Croton episode of the Satyrica.37 In this case Petronius explicitly names the model and the literary genre38 he means not so much to reproduce as to parody

    34 35

    36

    37

    38

    that Oenothea’s humble floor must be content with a cheap cover in lieu of marble, though this is a gift of the earth itself. This also seems to be the interpretation of Rosenmeyer 1991, 407: “Oenothea’s home was not yet shining with a marble floor (Sat. 135.8.2)”. The emphasis is mine. At lines 3-5 sed crate saligna… finxerat actu, if, as I believe, there is no lacuna between lines 4 and 5, erant must be supplied, which can be derived from the preceding fulgebat (v. 1) and radiabat (v. 2). Cf. Winter 1992, 26. Cf. Petron. 89.30-33 tumida consurgunt freta / undaque resultat scissa tranquillo minor, / qualis silenti nocte remorum sonus / longe refertur; 122.203-208 magnam nixus in hastam / horrida securis frangebat gressibus arva, / qualis Caucasea decurrens arduus arce / Amphitryoniades, aut torvo Iuppiter ore, / cum se verticibus magni demisit Olympi / et periturorum disiecit tela Gigantum Another “metaliterary” simile is found in the poem at 127.9, displaying a quales… talis structure and harking back to the love scene in Iliad 14: see ch. XIV. This one, at 135.8.15-17, has no talis corresponding to qualis. Finally, the “metaliterary” poetic simile at 136.6 (harking back to Apollonius of Rhodes’ epic: see below, note 64) begins with tales with no correlative qualis, and actually amounts to one panel only of the simile, while the other must be sought in the previous (prose) description, in a way not too different from what must be done in the case of the simile at 135.8.15-17, if Hecale is read. For 136.6 see ch. XXI. Sommariva 1996, 71-72 lists more “metaliterary” similes; cf. also Perutelli 1986, 133 n. 29. Besides the title of the epyllion (Hecale) the mention of its author’s name is all but certain in the last verse. It is indeed difficult to think of a better correction than Battiadae (in lieu of the transmitted Bachineas), first proposed by Pius. Battus was the founder of 309

    Chapter XX and desecrate, not merely in the poem, but in the whole context,39 as he so often does in his work. 3. We shall dwell more briefly on a textual problem that in my opinion is of the scholars’ own making and not justified by any compelling reason. As we have seen, Bücheler, in his 1862 edition, proposed radical transpositions affecting nearly all verses of our poem.40 He gave most of them up in his subsequent editions, retaining only two,41 the second of which – changing the order of vv. 1314 – has made its way to even the most recent editions.42 Courtney43 asserts that the transposition of v. 13 after v. 14 allows the adoption of the reading pendebat (the subject would then be the singular uva, obviously the pensilis uva hung to dry mentioned by several sources).44 But, aside from the fact that the tradition is unanimous in the order of the the verses, the better attested reading is pendebant, found in L in its entirety and also in a witness belonging to O.45 Indeed, except Courtney, all the scholars accepting the transposition write pendebant. But if the verb is in the plural, then its subjects are the three nouns sorba, thym-

    39

    40 41 42

    43 44 45

    310

    Cyrene, Callimachus’ home town. As for mirando, meaningless with aevo, the best correction seems to me to be mirandam. Loquentibus annis (v. 16) should be compared with Catull. 68.4 carta loquatur anus; [Quint.] decl. maior. 6.22 saecula loquentur. Pace Müller ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 336 (“annis vix ferri potest”), I believe anni to denote a long period of time to be perfectly admissible (cf. the turns gravis annis and confectus annis). Of course I fully realize that the text of the two last lines can never be restored with absolute certainty (among the many proposals, I single out those of Terzaghi 1953, 8, who reads lines 16-17 as follows: digna sacris Hecale, quam Musa loquentibus alis / Battiadae veteris miranti tradidit aevo, and of Courtney 1970, 69 [cf. Courtney 1991, 39], who corrects mirando… aevo to mirando… ore). At any rate, the general meaning of these lines seems sufficiently clear to me. In fact, a complete picture of Petronius’ attitude to Callimachus (and Ovid) can only be obtained by taking the whole context into account, not merely the verse, as done by Sullivan 1985, 86-87 (cf. above, note 18). Cf. above, note 3. In the apparatus, not in the text. He proposed to place vv. 6-7 after v. 9, and v. 13 after v. 14. Cf. above, note 4. This transpositian is found in all of Müller’s editions and in Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 154; also in Courtney 1991, 39. It is rejected by Heseltine 1913, 304; Ernout 1923, 167; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 142; Pellegrino 1975, 182; also by Perutelli 1986, 132; Winter 1992, 33; Aragosti 1995, 512. Courtney 1991, 41. Listed in Courtney 1991, l.c. See above, in the apparatus. I do not see why the singular pendebat should be more difficult, and therefore “more likely to be right”, as stated by Courtney 1991, l.c.

    Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8) brae, and uva, independent of the order of the verses,46 and the transposition is therefore totally needless.47 We may conclude that our poem has been completely transmitted and that the order of the verses is correctly given by the tradition.48 4. We have already remarked that the description of Oenothea’s hut found in the verse differs radically from that appearing in the prose, in which the poem’s idealized rustic simplicity is replaced by squalor and filth – which, incidentally, hardly fits the sorceress’ sensational claims in the preceding poem.49 This conspicuous contrast has been emphasized by all scholars,50 and can easily be grasped by comparing the verse with the prose frame preceding and following it.51 Because of the lamentable condition in which Petronius’ text has come down to us, it is not easy to grasp the reason impelling Encolpius to present the reader with our poem’s idyllic picture and the moment at which this mood of his first appears,52 even though the suggestion that Encolpius’ admiring mood begins at a later stage, after he is left alone by Oenothea, must be resolutely rejected.53 According to Roger Beck54 the poem at 135.8 is a reconstruction by the more mature and discerning narrator Encolpius of his reaction when, as an acting character of the story, easily impressed and influenced by his literary dreams, he found himself in Oenothea’s poor abode. This interpretation clearly grasps a real aspect of this verse: its totally conventional literary character.

    46

    47 48 49 50

    51

    52 53

    54

    These lines must be understood as suggested by González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 280: “suspensos igitur in orbem interpretor fructus inter flores et herbas odoratissimas, ut omnino coronas referre videantur”. Cf. also Winter 1992, 33. The subscriptio in the codex Traguriensis (“versus XVII”) may then be trusted. See ch. XIX. A few instances: Stöcker 1969, 32-33; Perutelli 1986, 125; Slater 1990a, 131; Rosenmeyer 1991, 407; Connors 1998, 45; Courtney 1991, 203. The prose paragraph immediately preceding the verse (135.7, transcribed above) is tightly connected with the poem, and cannot be separated from it. Incredibly, Plaza 2000, 207 speaks of an “idyllic prose description of Oenothea’s household at 135.3-7”, i.e. she extends the idealized description to the prose context preceding the poem. In reality, this applies only to the words immediately preceding it (135.7: cf. preceding note), as can be gathered even through a superficial reading. In fact, 135.7 is preceded by a lacuna, marked in L. This has been proposed by Van Thiel 1971, 52, 58-59. He has been convincingly refuted by Perutelli 1986, 136, who remarks that Encolpius’ admiring description of Oenothea’s hut can hardly be placed after the latter’s fall, which makes him laugh (136.13). Beck 1973, 57-58. His approach is accepted by Sommariva 1996, 67 n. 47. 311

    Chapter XX Beck’s sharp separation of Encolpius as character from Encolpius as narrator, however, hardly carries conviction.55 It is easy to see that in the prose we find either objects similar to those mentioned in the verse, but much more sordid and dilapidated,56 or of a different type, but equally shabbier and seedier than the chattels mentioned in the poem.57 Actually, in the prose we witness a progressively increasing degradation of this sordid interior: the cucuma ingens, which Oenothea places on the fire before the poem, reappears after the verse as a cucumula, just as the focus becomes a foculus.58 And the episode ends with Oenothea’s ruinous fall on the fire, when the decrepit stool on which she has climbed suddenly shatters. The obviously intentional contrast with the poem’s picture rules out the possibility that the diminutives may have totally lost their meaning. The prose description, then, though opposed to the poem’s, is not static. Is it possible to grasp a somewhat similar attitude in the poem, which ostensibly harks back to Hellenistic descriptions of poor but tidy interiors, as explicitly indicated by the final reference to Callimachus’ Hecale? According to Winter59 the terms employed to introduce the poem (mirabar, ingenium, quasdam artes) reveal its ironical character, inasmuch as the reader already knows that Oenothea’s hut is a hovel worthy of no admiration. This is partly true, in the sense that the prose and the verse are the inseparable panels of the same diptych, both necessary to bring forth the artistic effect intended by Petronius – and a part of the prose panel precedes the poem. But what interests 55

    56

    57

    58

    59

    312

    See the serious reservations in Perutelli 1986, 134; Courtney 2001, 203-204. In particular, Beck is wrong in not realizing that the present reor in the following poem (136.6, which, as we saw, is tightly linked with 135.8) does not allow the attribution of the tendency to literary transfiguration to the acting character only, and not to the narrator too. This present tense appears between two more in the prose (136.4 ut puto, and 136.7 ut existimo) that undoubtedly refer to the narrator’s present. Cf. Courtney 2001, 205, and see ch. XXI. E.g. the clavus at 135.4, which corresponds to the clavi at 135.8.9, falls down from the wall; and the fumosus paries at 135.4 extends to the whole abode the sooty filth which at 135.8.11 only covers the roof beam – inevitably smoke-stained in ancient houses, which lacked a chimney. In Philemon’s and Baucis’ house beams are smoke-stained too (Ov. met. 8.648). This is the case with Oenothea’s worn house vessels (the cracked camella at 135.4-5, and the cucuma at 135.4, which breaks at 136.2), as opposed to the new cups (the nova… pocula at 135.8.4-5) and the humble but functional objects named after them in the verse. The same applies to food: the poem’s fragrant fruit and herbs (135.8.12-14) are far different from the prose’s moldy beans and disgusting pig’s head (135.4-6; 136.1). Cf. above, text to notes 14-15. Petr. 135.4 cucumam ingentem foco apposuit ~ 136.1-2 anumque… super foculum mittit. Frangitur ergo cervix cucumulae. Cf. Stöcker 1969, 33-34; Plaza 2000, 207; Courtney 2001, 204. Winter 1992, 23.

    Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8) us now is the dynamic element inherent in the verse itself. This may be recognized in the intentional opposition of an extreme expressive affectedness, almost bordering on mannerism, to the cheapness of the objects described60 – a stylistic affectedness in the poem, which concurs with the crude “realism” of the prose to create a peculiar comic effect. 5. As we have seen, our poem expressly indicates the literary genre and the subject matter Petronius chooses as a model to produce an enjoyable parody, as he is wont to do. In this case it is the epyllion, concretely Callimachus’ Hecale, and in particular the theme of xenia, i.e. the hospitality offered by a common mortal to heroes or gods.61 We are, then, in a typically Hellenistic atmosphere, as was the case with the previous poem,62 in which Oenothea proclaims her magic powers, following in the wake of a tradition extending from Theocritus to Roman elegy, and as it will be with the next,63 of blatantly epic intonation, but harking back not so much to Homer as to Apollonius of Rhodes.64 Our poem’s main models, then, are Callimachus’ Hecale and the most distinguished Latin text that had drawn inspiration from that famous epyllion: the episode of Philemon and Baucis in Ovid’s Metamorphoses,65 as scholars unani-

    60

    61 62 63 64

    65

    This opposition has been emphasized by several scholars: e.g. Barnes 1971, 235; Perutelli 1986, 129; and especially Winter 1992, 27, 28, 30, 31. Some expressions should be especially noted: Cereris vacuae nemus (v. 4, elaborating on Ov. met. 8.741 Cereale nemus: cf. Perutelli 1986, 129; Winter 1992, 27); paries… palea satiatus inani… clavos numerabat agrestes (vv. 8-9, joining the oxymoron satiatus… inani with the personification of the paries: cf. Perutelli 1986, 130-131, and, for instructive parallels, Burman 1743, I, 835): the further oxymoron produced by the association of opes (appositive in relation to quae in the preceding verse) and humilis casa (v. 12); and one could go on. On this theme see Rosenmeyer 1991 and Sommariva 1996, 65-74. Petr. 134.12: see ch. XIX. Petr. 136.6: see ch. XXI. As demonstrated by the references to the Boreads’ fight against the Harpies (cf. Apoll. Rh. 2.263-300) and to Heracles’ with the Stymphalian birds (cf. Apoll. Rh. 2.10521057). It should also be noted that Petronius follows Apollonius’ version, according to which Heracles did not kill the birds but chased them away. See ch. XXI. Ov. met. 8.620-724. Several scholars have called attention to a revealing detail: Ovid, who certainly has drawn on Callimachus’ Hecale in this part of his poem, indirectly emphasizes the link by stating that Theseus was moved by Philemon’s and Baucis’ story more than any other who had listened to it (Ov. met. 8.726). Theseus had been hosted by Hecale in her poor hut. Rosenmeyer 1991, 408-413 and Sommariva 1996, 69-71 point out the influence of a further Callimachean text containing the xenia theme: the tale of the hospitality offered by the shepherd Molorchus to Heracles, before the latter’s fight with the Nemean lion, which was part of the celebration of Berenice’s victory in the third book of the Aitia. This text was first published in 1976. 313

    Chapter XX mously recognize.66 There are of course influences of many other authors, as is nearly always the case with Petronius’ verse,67 but the most striking contacts are surely those with Callimachus and Ovid. Unfortunately only fragments are preserved of Callimachus’ Hecale,68 and although the explicit reference to this famous epyllion appears in the poem, parallels with these fragments can be glimpsed especially in the surrounding prose; meager though these parallels are, they reveal the degradation of the Callimachean model and the reversal of the type of hospitality therein described.69 The comparison between the Petronian episode and the totally preserved Ovidian one concerning Philemon and Baucis is of course much easier to carry out.70 It is possible to recognize parallels both in the prose part and in the poem. It is immediately perceptible that the same degradation and reversals we have witnessed in the case of the Callimachean model apply here too. In Ovid, for example, Baucis pulls down a piece of pork meat from a roof beam using a fork, exactly like Oenothea does;71 but if Baucis’ meat has been preserved for long, Oenothea’s is as old as she is.72 In general, the simple but tasty food Baucis offers her divine guests73 resembles that described in Petronius’ poem at 135.8,74 surely not the repulsive one we see in the prose.75 Other details of Ovid’s narration undergo a frankly farcical travesty in Petronius’ prose: the too short leg of Baucis’ unsteady table76 probably prompts Encolpius’ gesture when he violently 66 67

    68

    69

    70

    71 72 73 74 75 76

    314

    Among the moderns, the first to do so was Collignon 1892, 262-263. Among the many others, see e.g. Garrido 1930. It is not my intention to list them all in detail. I refer to Perutelli 1986, who repeatedly stresses the wealth of intertextual references in the whole Petronian episode, and especially to Winter 1992, 23-36, who offers a nearly complete list (a missing parallel is that of Petr. 135.8.14 et passis uva racemis with Copa 21 et lentis uva racemis, pointed out by Fraenkel. On p. 34 Winter points out a different parallel: Verg. georg. 4.269 passos de vite racemos). See Hollis 1990 (pp. 137 and 268 for the contacts with Petr. 135.8. The lines 15-17 of our Petronian poem make up Hollis’ testimonium 7). See also Hollis 1970, 115 ff. for the contacts of the Ovidian episode of Philemon and Baucis with Callimachus’ Hecale. This is what can be gathered from the analysis conducted by Rosenmeyer 1991, 406407, to whom I refer for the contacts that may be established between the fragments of the Hecale and the Petronian episode This has been done by many scholars. After Collignon and Garrido (cf. above, note 66), cf. e.g. Perutelli 1986, 136-138; Rosenmeyer 1991, 407-408; Connors 1998, 45-47; Courtney 2001, 203-204; Rimell 2002, 161-162. Ov. met. 8.647 furca levat illa bicorni / sordida terga suis etc. ~ Petr. 135.4 pannum de carnario detulif furca etc. Ov. met. 8.649 servatoque diu resecat de tergore partem ~ Petr. 136.1 coaequale natalium suorum sinciput. Ov. met. 8.664-667, 674-677. Petr. 135.8.12-14. Petr. 135.4-6. Ov. met. 8.661-663.

    Oenothea’s Cottage (Petr. 135.8) rips off a leg from Oenothea’s, to use in his fight with the goose attacking him,77 which in turn directly derives from the goose Philemon and Baucis vainly try to catch to offer it to their divine guests.78 According to Courtney,79 in the prose Petronius develops and intesifies some Ovidian hints suggesting squalor beneath the idealized portrayal of Philemon’s and Baucis’ poverty80 and opposes it to the poem’s idyllic picture in order to debunk through parody and burlesque the mannered falsifications marring much of the literature that was conventionally regarded as serious. This observation hits the mark, inasmuch as it stresses the inseparability of verse and prose and emphasizes the former’s conventional literary clichés. We should not forget, however, that on the one hand, as we saw,81 the opposition of expressive affectedness to the cheapness of the objects described inserts a parodic element within the poem itself; and that, on the other, the relation of our verse composition to Ovid is in some ways ambiguous. The details reminding of Ovid in the poem at 135.8 are numerous,82 and generally speaking they do not parody or reverse the model, but sometimes the reader may wonder. The maculata testa Lyaeo (v. 7) cannot but remind of Oenothea’s craving for wine, which her very name suggests and the novel itself portrays;83 but most of all, if our interpretation of iam in line 2 is correct,84 Petronius’ suggestion that Oenothea’s hut will eventually turn into a marble temple like Philemon’s and Baucis’ is too glaring not to be immediately perceived as burlesque and not to make the reader realize that the poem too contains a parodic element, though not so flagrant as those that can be grasped in the prose. 77 78 79 80 81 82

    83

    84

    Petr. 136.5. Ov. met. 8.684-688. Courtney 2001, 204. Ov. met. 8.648 sordida terga suis; 658-659 vilisque vetusque / vestis; 661 mensae sed erat pes tertius impar. Cf. above, text to note 60. Cf. e.g. Ov. met. 8.648 nigro pendentia tigno ~ Petr. 135.8.11 fumoso suspensa tigillo; Ov. met. 8.652-653 erat alveus illic / fagineus, curva clavo suspensus ab ansa ~ Petr. 135.8.6 mollis tiliae lacus, 9 clavos… agrestes; Ov. met. 8.655-656 in medio torus est de mollibus ulvis / impositus lecto, sponda pedibusque salignis ~ Petr. 135.8.3-4 crate saligna / impositum Cereris vacuae nemus (for impono with the ablative cf. Petronius himself, 116.1 impositum arce… sublimi oppidum, and, in general, TLL VII 1, 653, 4044 – Suet. Iul. 66 vetustissima nave impositos should be added); Ov. met. 8.675 patulis… canistris ~ Petr. 135.8.7 vimineae lances; Ov. met. 8.699 casa parva ~ Petr. 135.8.12 humilis casa. Cf. Petr. 136.11; 137,13; 138.3. In Ovid, Philemon and Baucis have nothing but unaged wine (met. 8.672 nec longae… vina senectae). For Oenothea’s relation to the wineloving lenae of Latin elegy see ch. XIX. Beck 1973, 56 had already detected a negative trait in the maculata testa Lyaeo. Cf. above, text to notes 32-34. 315

    Chapter XX 6. Although, as we saw, our poem cannot be separated from the prose context, it is marked by an even more openly literary character than the prose is. We have already mentioned the presence of the xenia theme and the numerous echoes of Ovid and Callimachus; we have also hinted at those of numerous different authors,85 which connect our poem not only with the epyllion, but with several further strands amply developed in ancient literatures. As observed by Perutelli,86 the opening Priamel, which opposes a scenario of restraint and simplicity to a picture of luxury and excess, goes back to Bacchylides, and was amply developed in Latin literature,87 to the point that comparable descriptions became one of the favorite topics for scholastic rhetorical declamations.88 And as the prose paragraph on poverty’s ingenuity introducing the poem89 can in no way be separated from it, our composition is also connected with the old philosophical idea, which later became a widespread literary topos, according to which need was the motive of progress and the promoter of arts,90 precisely as Petronius formulates it.91 Not surprisingly, under the crushing weight of such an imposing literary heritage, even the Ovidian model ends up – certainly not against Petronius’ will – losing moment and significance.92 We may conclude, then, by remarking that the poem at 135.8 is a literary exercise of great complexity, which, inseparably joined with the prose context, aims not only to degrade the models, but also to unmask the conventionalism and insincerity of so much of the so-called “serious” literature – a task not unworthy of an author who meant to describe reality with the simplicitas of a candida lingua.93

    85 86 87 88

    89 90 91 92 93

    316

    Cf. above, note 67. Perutelli 1986, 127, with the literature quoted. Cf. Bacchyl. fr. 21 Sn.-M.; Lucr. 2.23 ff:; Verg. georg. 2.461 ff.; Hor. c. 2.18.1 ff.; but there are too many comparable texts to mention them all. Cf. Sen. rhet. contr. 2.1.11-13. Ernout 1923, 167 n. 1 and Barnes 1971, 241 n. 5 suggest that the theme developed in our poem was a topic opposed to other rhetorical exercises, like the descriptions of luxurious locales in Lucan. 10.112-126 or Suet. Nero 31. Sochatoff 1969-1970, 344 naively believes the description of Oenothea’s poor abode to mirror a critical attitude to contemporary luxuries; but of course its opposition to descriptions of extravagant luxury does not rule out that it may be a rhetorical exercise just like those. Petr. 135.7, transcribed above. Cf. also Stöcker 1969, 31-32. Petr. 135.7 paupertatis ingenium singularumque rerum quasdam artes. Cf. Rimell 2002, 162: “the old domestic literary scene of a couple preparing a humble hearth disintegrates beneath the weight of cliché and repetition”. Cf. Petr. 132.15.2 novae simplicitatis opus; 4 candida lingua refert. See ch. XVII.

    Chapter XXI Mythological Monsters (Petr. 136.6)* 136.5 Oblitus itaque nugarum pedem mensulae extorsi coepique pugnacissimum animal armata elidere manu. Nec satiatus defunctorio ictu, morte me anseris vindicavi: 6

    tales Herculea Stymphalidas arte coactas ad caelum fugisse reor caenoque fluentes Harpyias, cum Phineo maduere veneno fallaces epulae. Tremuit perterritus aether planctibus insolitis confusaque regia caeli.1

    5

    136.6 L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) 1 coactas Olctmgp Samb.: volucres lrt 2 caenoque Krohn, Verdière: sanieque Daniel: poenaque Alessio: peneque

    1. This is the third poem appearing in the Oenothea episode, near the end of the part of the Satyrica that has come down to us. Although the text is in pitiful conditions, it is still possible to make out not only the course of the action, but also the parallel evolution of Encolpius’ mood. According to Perutelli2 this evo* 1

    2

    A version of this chapter has appeared with the title La poesia in Petr. Sat. 136.6 in: Iucundi acti labores. Estudios en homenaje a Dulce Estefanía Álvarez, Santiago de Compostela 2004, 413-426 In line 2 I have accepted Krohn’s correction caenoque, supported by Verdière 1993, in lieu of the transmitted peneque, which is meaningless, though retained by Ernout and others. Another plausible correction is Daniel’s sanieque. Schönberger 1935, 1247 points out, among others, a Virgilian parallel: Aen. 8.487 sanie taboque fluentis. The reading proposed by Harrison 2003, 136, pavideque ruentes is hardly convincing. At line 3 Phineo is an adjective (Phin o… veneno: “the poison intended for Phineus”), as shown by the long . Winter 1992, 39 lists several occurrences of the same adjective. Perutelli 1986, 136.

    Chapter XXI lution is marked by the poems inserted in the episode, which amount to as many “snapshots” of the protagonist’s psychological state at the moment. As Perutelli remarks,3 the episode’s first three poems – in hexameters4 –, though extremely literary, mirror three attitudes of Encolpius’, evolving from dismay at the magic powers claimed by the sorceress to admiration for the clever arrangement of her poor abode and belongings, and ending with an attitude of self-confident boldness after Oenothea’s comic fall, though shortly before she had claimed to be omnipotent. Each one of these three poems refers to clearly recognizable literary models. We have seen in the preceding chapters that the first two are connected with strands of Hellenistic poetry going back to Theocritus and Callimachus respectively. In particular the models of the preceding poem (135.8), Callimachus’ Hecale and Ovid’s episode of Philemon and Baucis, have left some mark in our poem too; but here we witness a burlesque stylistic rise: we pass from the epyllion to epos proper. Our poem is part of a brief “episode in the episode”: Encolpius’ “battle” with the geese, in a moment when the protagonist is alone in the hut. Oenothea has extinguished the fire in the hearth by falling on it, and has gone out to ask her neighbor for embers. This intermezzo, with the killing of one of the geese, was probably suggested to Petronius by a detail of the Ovidian episode of Philemon and Baucis, who vainly attempt to kill their one goose to serve it to their divine guests, who, however, order them to spare its life.5 Encolpius’ killing of the goose amounts to an irreverent reversal of the Ovidian theme,6 but what mainly interests us here is that the transition to our poem’s “heroic” atmosphere is prepared and made to appear natural by the fact that this theme was part of a more general topic, that of the xenia, i.e. the hospitality offered to heroes or gods by common mortals as poor as they are generous. If Philemon and Baucis had hosted Jupiter and Mercury, Hecale had welcomed Theseus in her poor hut on the eve of his fight against the bull of Marathon. Encolpius, a guest in Oenothea’s shack, expressly associated with Hecale’s abode in the previous poem, is thus equated with Theseus, and his deadly fight with the goose is not merely the reversal of the Ovidian episode, in which the animal is 3 4

    5

    6

    318

    Perutelli 1986, 134-136. For the first two (134.12 and 135.8) see chapters XIX and XX. The last poem of the Oenothea episode – 137.9, in elegiac couplets, see ch. XXII – develops the theme of the omnipotence of money, and is usually not considered by those who seek to reconstruct the episode’s narrative and psychological evolution (see however Sommariva 1996, 7374). All the four poems are analyzed by Winter 1992. Ov. met. 8.684-688. Cf. e.g. Adamietz 1995, 325 n. 13; Connors 1998, 46 (who also sees an allusion to Baucis’ unsteady table – Ov. met. 8.660-663 – in Encolpius’ ripping a leg from Oenothea’s to kill the goose). Cf. also Rosenmeyer 1991, 408. Cf. Sommariva 1996, 69.

    Mythological Monsters (Petr. 136.6) spared, but is also equated with Theseus’ heroic deed after he had been hosted by Hecale.7 The protagonist is also equated with Heracles, if, as Rosenmeyer and Sommariva have convincingly pointed out,8 Petronius had a further Callimachean text developing the xenia theme in mind: the so-called Victoria Berenices, which was part of the third book of the Aitia, and recounted the hospitality the poor shepherd Molorchus offered to Heracles, before the latter’s fight with the Nemean lion.9 The goose killed by Encolpius, then, is equated not only with a bull, but also with a lion. But our poem makes it correspond to much more fantastic and formidable monsters: the Stymphalian birds and the Harpies: the connecting link is Hercules, mentioned in the first line of the poem, who fought with the Nemean lion as well as with the Stymphalian birds.10 2. Our poem consists of a double mythological scene (Hercules’ victory over the Stymphalian birds and the Boreads’ over the Harpies), which is compared with the killing of the goose by Encolpius described in the prose. It is, therefore, the parabole of a simile,11 whose antapodosis must be sought outside the verse. It follows that the poem is not syntactically self-standing and cannot be separated from the prose context. In Petronius there are several cases in which a poem is not syntactically selfstanding12 and once, at 128.6, the verse is, like here, the parabole of a simile whose antapodosis must be sought in the prose. Some scholars have regarded 7 8

    9 10

    11

    12

    So, rightly, Sommariva 1986, 70; cf. already Ciaffi 1955, 141. Cf. Rosenmeyer 1991, 408-411; Sommariva 1996, 68-74. The papyrus fragments containing the Victoria Berenices were first published by Meillier 1976. Parsons 1997 placed this episode at the beginning of book 3 of Callimachus’ Aitia. Among later discussions, in special connection with the contacts with Petronius, see Bornmann 1981, 108-109. Here too an animal (a ram) was to be killed and served to the heroic guest, who, however, is content with a vegetarian meal. The ridiculous effect produced by the association of the impotent Encolpius with the most powerful hero of Greek myth is emphasized by Slater 1990a, 181 and McMahon 1998, 206. Besides Hercules (and Theseus) further heroes Encolpius is mockingly associated with are the two sons of Boreas, Zetes and Calais (Petr. 136.6.2-5). Rosenmeyer 1991, 412 equates Encolpius’ geese with the mice fought by Molorchus, but this would destroy the comical effect. In the last two lines there is a freely coordinated clause, a typical feature of epic (Homeric) similes. For examples in Latin, including Petronius, see ch. XV, notes 3 and 36, and text to notes 22 and 33. For reasons of practicality I always call parabole the image being compared to the narrated situation, and the latter always antapodosis, regardless of their respective position. When the image follows the narrated situation (which is often the case in Latin poetry), according to Quintilian (8.3.79) there is no antapodosis. Paratore 1933, II, 427 remarks that the verse contains a “farsesco paragone”. Petr. 132.11 (the Virgilian cento); 108.14, containing the verbum dicendi in a poem supposedly uttered by Tryphaena; and, of course, 128.6. See ch. XV. 319

    Chapter XXI 128.6 as incomplete, having failed to recognize its syntactical link with the prose; we shall not be surprised, then, to see that most interpreters consider our poem to be incomplete too. The prose part immediately preceding our verse is a short and hardly rhetorically elaborated description of Encolpius’ fighting and slaying the goose. It should be emphasized that it contains expressions whose stylistic level is a far cry from epic loftiness: the colloquial oblitus nugarum, which occurs in the Cena too,13 and a juridical terminus technicus: defunctorius, so degraded and debased as to be also used in Encolpius’ address to his recalcitrant mentula.14 The task to obviate the bare conciseseness and stylistic plainness of the prose by bestowing a heroic halo on the protagonist’s feat is totally entrusted to the mythological picture sketched in the verse. Incidentally, something similar happens with the poem at 128.6, whose elaborate description fills out with a wealth of poetic detail the immediately preceding bare hint at the protagonist’s mood. In both cases the tertium comparationis linking the prose antapodosis to the parabole in verse cannot be made out at once. In the case of 128.6 it is the concept of “dream”, indirectly hinted at in the prose15 and amply developed in the verse. In our case it is even better concealed,16 to the point that it has not been recognized by many interpreters. The tertium comparationis is not flight,17 since these geese do not fly, nor chasing away winged foes,18 since the goose does not flee, but dies. Neither is it the rumble of battle,19 nor the death of the goose ending the fight, since the Harpies were not killed by Zetes and Calais and as far as the Stymphalian birds are concerned Petronius follows the version according to 13 14

    15

    16 17 18

    19

    320

    Petr. 71.5. The same expression is also found in a text in many ways close to the Satyrica: Seneca’s Apocolocyntosis (7.3). Petr. 132.11 mihi apodixin defunctoriam redde. In reality, the adjective defunctorius is used by Petronius only; but the adverb defunctorie, found e.g. in Sen. rhet. contr. 10.2.18, is used in juridical Latin: cf. TLL V 1, 376, 8-17. In Petr. 11.4 we find the comparable terminus technicus perfunctorie, preceded by a negative and referred to a beating, just like here: me coepit non perfunctorie verberare. Petr. 128.5 an vera voluptate fraudatus essem: Encolpius asks himself whether his meeting with Circe was real or only a dream, though some scholars have misunderstood these words: see ch. XV. It only appears in the last verse of the poem, in the freely coordinated clause: tremuit perterritus aer / planctibus insolitis confusaque regia caeli. As assumed by McMahon 1998, 206, who thus translates the first verse: “skyward they fled, deem I, like the Stymphalian birds”. As believed by Barnes 1971, 236: “he grabs up a leg from the table and vents his spite by clubbing the goose to death, driving the others away even as the legendary demigod had… driven off the Stymphalian birds”; but the comparison is with the deadly battle between Encolpius and the goose, not with the flight of the other two. As apparently thought by González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 281: “confert anserum clangorem cum eo, quem cierunt Stymphalides etc.” – unless he referred “clangorem” to the flapping of the wings.

    Mythological Monsters (Petr. 136.6) which they were not killed by Hercules, but frightened away by resorting to thunderous bronze rattles.20 The real tertium comparationis is the flapping of wings, which makes Encolpius’ fight against the goose resemble those of Hercules and the Boreads against monstrous winged beings. This is what planctibus insolitis refers to – an expression Petronius appears to have intentionally placed in the last line of the poem.21 The same word, planctus, is used by Valerius Flaccus to denote the Harpies’ wing-flapping.22 The numerous interpreters who see an allusion to shrieks or groaning are therefore mistaken.23 As we have already remarked, the “epic” verse parabole casts back its stateliness upon the bare and stylistically plain prose antapodosis, retrospectively charging it with a grandeur fit to describe the fight between mythological heroes and winged monsters; the reader can form a live picture of the fighting goose’s tosses and jerks through the fantastic winged creatures’ planctus insoliti.24 Clearly, if this raises Encolpius’ feat to epic level, it lowers and degrades at the same time the mythological heroes’ achievements.25 This bivalent aspect of our poem is also formally emphasized by the author. We have stated that the verse amounts to the parabole of a simile whose antapodosis must be sought in the prose;26 and it cannot in fact be denied that the mythological picture’s task is 20

    21 22 23

    24

    25

    26

    This is certainly meant by Herculea… arte. So, correctly, Winter 1992, 38. Cf. already Burman 1743, I, 841. Paus. 8.22.4 reports the version of Peisander of Kamiros, according to which Heracles did not kill the Stymphalian birds, but drove them off with bronze rattles. This is also the version accepted by Apollonius of Rodhes (2.1052-1057), an important model for this simile, which, though “epic”, still moves in the Hellenistic atmosphere as the two preceding poems. According to Apollod. bibl. 2.5.6, Heracles killed the birds with his arrows, after startling them with the rattles. This is, in itself, a further proof of the poem’s completeness. See below, § 3. Val. Fl. 4.494 unum omnes incessere planctibus. Among others, Ernout 1923, 169: “gemissements”; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 144 and Canali 1990, 253: “strida”; Aragosti 1995, 517 and Scarsi 1996, 243: “gemiti”; Reverdito 1995, 261: “grida”; Walsh 1996, 139: “at such novel cries”. The expression is correctly understood by Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 339: “das Rauschen der mächtigen Schwingen”; Winter 1992, 41: “zwar läßt sich aus planctibus insolitis (v. 5) erschließen, daß auch die Gans im Todeskampf mit Enkolp herumflatterte”. It cannot be ruled out that (as assumed by Barnes 1971, 236) the association with the Harpies may imply that the geese have left a tangible trace of their visit. Cf. Verg. 3.216-217 foedissima ventris / proluvies; 244 vestigia foeda relinquont; Val. Fl. 4.497498 tum sola colluvie atque inlusis stramina mensis / foeda rigant. It is hardly worthwhile to dwell on the parodic function of our poem’s epic tone, which has been duly emphasized by all scholars. It may be interesting to call attention to the connection of geese with mime emphasized by Panayotakis 1995, 180-181, also with a reference to Attic vase paintings; cf. Cicu 1992b, 139 n. 118. The light comicality of Philemon’s and Baucis’ goose is now turned into a more ridiculous and frankly “mimical” scene. The inversion of the simile’s two “panels”, as compared with their usual position in Greek poetry, is common in Latin: see ch. XV. 321

    Chapter XXI precisely to illustrate the narrated situation. It should not escape our attention, however, that the correlative pronoun with which it is introduced (tales, significantly not matched by quales) betokens not that the narrated circumstance is similar to the mythological picture, but, quite the other way around, that the Stymphalian birds and the Harpies are like the goose, as well as Hercules and the Boreads are like Encolpius, not vice versa. We witness, in a way, the functional inversion of parabole and antapodosis. In Virgil there is a good number of similes in which both “panels” are introduced by the correlative qualis and talis (sometimes with a variation in one of the two correlative terms). We shall briefly dwell on those in which the narrated situation is illustrated with a mythological picture.27 In the Aeneid the latter is usually introduced as the parabole with qualis and is followed by the antapodosis preceded by talis: this reproduces the structure of a famous Homeric simile, which served as the model of an equally famous one in Virgil.28 In Petronius himself a poem completely consisting of a simile – not merely a mythological, but a “metaliterary” one, whose parabole harks back to the divine love scene in Iliad 14 – is structured in exactly the same way: quales… talis.29 In all of Virgil’s work there is only one mythological simile whose structure can be associated with our Petronian text. After the detailed description of the thoroughbred horse, in the third book of the Georgics, the poet comparatively mentions some horses celebrated in Greek myth and poetry starting with a talis, then anaphorically repeated, but lacking a correlative qualis in the preceding antapodosis.30 Here, like in our Petronian text, the mythical horses are said to be 27 28

    29

    30

    322

    The aspects discussed here have not received due attention in Rieks 1981. I am referring to the simile comparing Artemis and Nausikaa (Hom. Od. 6.102-109), the model of the comparison between Diana and Dido in Verg. Aen. 1.331-340, on which see Rieks 1981, 1034-1038. The same structure is found in Verg. Aen. 12.331-340 (comparing Mars and Turnus). Cf. also Aen. 10.763-768 (quam magnus… talis: comparing Orion and Mezentius). Comparable structure without a mythological referent in Verg. Aen. 5.273-282; 6.205-209; 12.451-458 (veluti si… talis); 12.856-860 (non secus… talis). Petr. 127.9. See ch. XIV. It should not escape our attention that the preceding poem (135.8) ends with a metaliterary (Callimachean) parabole too. See ch. XX. This is probably meant as a preparation to our poem, which is the metaliterary parabole (alluding to Apoll. Rh. 2.263-300; 1052-1057) of a simile whose antapodosis is in the prose. There, however, it is still Oenothea who is like Hecale (qualis: Per. 135.8.15), not Hecale like Oenothea. The functional inversion of parabole and antapodosis will take place only at 136.6 and its context. Cf. also note 31. Verg. georg. 3.89-94 talis Amyclaeis domitus Pollucis habenis / Cyllarus et, quorum Grai meminere poetae, / Martis equi biiuges et magni currus Achilli. / Talis et ipse iubam cervice effudit equina / coniugis adventu pernix Saturnus, et altum / Pelion hinnitu fugiens implevit acuto. The “metaliterary” reference to Hom. Il. 15.119 and 16.148-154 can easily be grasped. In the epic poem there is only one comparable structure, without a mythological referent: at Aen. 9.708-717 the image introduced with talis should illus-

    Mythological Monsters (Petr. 136.6) similar to the ideal thoroughbred previously described, not vice versa; here too, like in Petronius, the mythological parabole is multiple; and here too it concerns animals, though very different from the monsters described in the Petronian poem. It seems possible to conclude that at 136.6 the author has meant to emphasize the ambiguous bivalence of the simile (parodically exalting Encolpius and degrading the mythological heroes) by adopting a structure apparently not typical of epic – unlike that of the poem at 127.9. Even in his most “ambitious” epic essay, the Bellum civile, Petronius experiments with a type of mythological simile in which one of the two correlatives is suppressed and the order of parabole and antapodosis inverted, but does not go so far as reversing the comparative relation as he does here: in the Bellum civile Caesar is like (qualis) Hercules and Jupiter, not Hercules and Jupiter like Caesar.31 3. As hinted above, the majority of scholars believe the poem at 136.6 to be incomplete. Read with the preceding prose, however, it amounts to a perfectly accomplished simile; therefore the lacuna, if there is one, can only be at the end of the verse. Most editors, in fact, mark a lacuna there and do not place a full stop at the end of the fifth line.32 The early Petronian interpreters even attempted to complete the poem by adding a line, which Burman still printed in the text.33 In the manuscript tradition the lacuna is marked only in two witnesses of L: t (the editio Tornaesiana) and r (the manuscript Lambethanus 693, XVI century).34 It is then worthwhile to try to determine whether, in the light of the text that has come down to us, it is justified to assume a lacuna after the fifth verse of the poem.

    31

    32 33 34

    trate the previously mentioned fall of Bitias; in reality Virgil uses it to insert a reference to his own times in the epic. Petr. 123.201-208 victa erat ingenti tellus nive victaque caeli / sidera, victa suis haerentia flumina ripis; / nondum Caesar erat, sed magnam nixus in hastam / horrida securis frangebat gressibus arva, / qualis Caucasea decurrens arduus arce / Amphitryoniades, aut torvo Iuppiter ore / cum se verticibus magni demisit Olympi / et periturorum disiecit tela Gigantum. A similar structure, but without a mythological image is in the Troiae halosis (Petr. 89.29-34). Cf. also above, note 29. An exception in Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 155, who do not place a full stop at the end of the poem but neither mark a lacuna. Visa suas noto transcurrere cardine metas. Cf. Burman 1743, I, 841. By contrast, the O excerpt transmitting our poem begins in the midst of 136.4 and ends with all the five lines also transmitted by the less incomplete L tradition. We should conclude, then, that if there was a lacuna at the end of the poem, the final part was already missing in the archetype (which of course is anything but impossible). It should be emphasized, however, that the only surely incomplete poem (the two lines at 15.9) is not transmitted by O, but by L and . 323

    Chapter XXI Besides editors, many scholars too regard it as incomplete.35 In particular, Van Thiel, though considering it as incomplete too, adds the important remark that nothing has apparently been lost in the prose following the five verses that have come down to us.36 In fact the resuming prose is directly connected with the last narrative detail mentioned before the poem: the geese’s retreat (136.7) after the death of their leader (136.5). If anything is missing, then, it cannot be in the prose following the poem, but at the end of the poem itself. But is the poem really incomplete? Barnes37 thinks that confusaque regia caeli cannot be the second subject of tremuit,38 and that it supposes a different verb in the lost part of the poem.39 It is easy to retort that, if regia caeli is not a subject of tremuit, confusa could be well understood as equivalent to confusa est, as done by several scholars and translators.40 In my opinion, however, the poem’s internal structure should lead us to take the whole expression confusaque regia caeli (a construction parallel to perterritus aether) as the second subject of tremuit. Ulrich Winter has called attention to the contrived parallelism in the first verse (“Herculea Stymphalidas arte coactas”: aBAb) and in the two cola “perterritus aether” and “confusaque regia caeli” (aAbB);41 for this reason he correctly believes that these two cola should be connected with tremuit and with planctibus insolitis. But it must be added that not just this part, but the whole poem is made up of parallel structures. In the first lines, describing the mythological monsters, the infinitive fugisse has two subjects – Stymphalidas and Harpyias – connected with the enclitic -que, just like aether and regia caeli in the freely coordinated clause closing the poem with a picture of cosmic terror and chaos. Each one of these four subjects is accompanied by a participle.42 In the first two instances the participles preserve the verbal function and govern complements (Herculea… arte coactas / caenoque fluentes); in the last two they 35

    36 37 38 39 40

    41 42

    324

    This is taken for granted by Winter 1992, 37-38. According to Courtney 1991, 42 “the poem may well be incomplete”. Barnes 1971, 236 regards it as incomplete too, but selfcontradictorily adds that it is saved by its brevity. The only scholar who, though not directly tackling the problem, seems to consider the poem as complete in his translation and discussion is McMahon 1998, 296. Van Thiel 1971, 59. Barnes 1971, 236. One of the scholars who take the poem’s incompleteness for granted does not agree on this: Winter 1992, 37 (“darauf erbeben Äther und Himmel”). Cf. above, in the text. In the same way, then, as the humanists who completed the poem with the verse quoted above, note 33. Including many who take the poem to be incomplete: Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 144; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 339; Aragosti 1995, 517; Reverdito 1995, 261; Scarsi 1996, 243. Winter 1992, 38 and 40 respectively. It should also be observed that the first two participles form a chiasmus with the subject they refer to: “Stymphalidas… coactas / fluentes Harpyias”.

    Mythological Monsters (Petr. 136.6) are equivalent to adjectives43 (perterritus aether / confusaque regia caeli). As can be seen, then, besides the parallelism between the description of the mythological monsters and the final picture of cosmic chaos, there is a further, internal parallelism within each part. The correspondence of ad caelum (v. 2) to the final word, caeli, should further be noted. Finally, we should once more emphasize the (almost certainly) intentionally contrived placing in the last verse of the expression finally offering the key to understand the whole poem by revealing the tertium comparationis: planctibus insolitis.44 All this clever structure is destroyed if the poem is assumed to be incomplete. One last point: if the verse comparison implicitly equates the geese with the mythological monsters, and Encolpius with Hercules and the Boreads, it should not escape attention that the final words, confusaque regia caeli, describing the cosmic chaos brought about by those heroic battles, bring back, by implication, the reader’s attention to the place in which Encolpius’ “battle” took place: Oenothea’s hut, whose orderly tidiness had been minutely described in the previous poem (135.8), is now reduced to a mess of epic and cosmic dimensions, after Oenothea’s fall, but especially after Encolpius’ clash with the geese. If at 135.8 the hut was described according to Callimachean patterns, in this “epic” simile (based on Apollonian,45 rather than Homeric, allusions, to preserve the Hellenistic atmosphere of the two previous poems) it is associated with no less than the heavenly royal palace, the abode of the gods – but only to stress its epic disarray.46 The unexpected association puts the final seal on the burlesque transfiguration of a shabby reality the author has contrived in this episode’s poetic intermezzos. Most of its flavor would be lost if the words regia caeli were not the last of our poem. 4. The second verse of the poem contains a verb in the first person (reor) which incontrovertibly ascribes it to the narrating voice. Even more important is the tense of this verb: a present, which undoubtedly puts us in contact not with Encolpius as the acting protagonist of the story but with Encolpius recounting his past adventures.

    43 44 45 46

    Even though with predicative meaning: terror and chaos are a consequence of tremere (tremuit). Cf. above, text to note 21. Apoll. Rh. 2.263-300; 1052-1057. Cf. above, note 29. It should be noted that in the prose Oenothea’s hovel is called a cella (134.3; 134.7). Casa is both in the prose (136.4) and in the verse (135.8.12). I do not think a distinction should be made between aether and regia caeli, as done by Winter 1992, 40, who believes the latter to be higher. Both expressions probably refer to the sky, first denoted with a poetical term (aether) which can also apply to a “scientific” conception of the cosmos, whereas regia caeli mirrors mythological ideas. 325

    Chapter XXI The whole chapter 136 offers a continuous alternation of present and perfect tenses, but the majority of the former must be interpreted as historical presents.47 In three instances, however, the present tense undoubtedly defines a chronological level different from that of the narrated situation, rather bringing the reader to the later time at which Encolpius recounts it: ut puto (136.4), ut existimo (136.7), and – in the middle – our poem’s reor. Roger Beck, the scholar that more than anybody else must be credited with a clear distinction between Encolpius the acting character and Encolpius the narrator,48 believes the present reor not to connect our poem’s literary transfiguration with the narrator’s mood, but rather to hint at the protagonist’s literary dreams at the moment the action took place.49 In my opinion, however, Courtney is right in remarking that this verb creates a gap between the narrated situation and the narrator’s report.50 The other two presents (ut puto, ut existimo) do not seem to reveal, as believed by Richardson,51 the narrator’s more mature attitude, as he relives his own past adventures at a later moment. In my opinion these two parenthetical expressions can only mean one thing: that at the moment of his narration Encolpius is still confined to conjectures concerning facts he has ascertained neither at the moment nor later.52 Undue importance, in my opinion, has been ascribed, in connection with the distinction between the action’s and the narration’s chronological level, to the adjective sacri referred to the geese since their first appearance.53 Konrad Müller, who in his first 1961 edition had retained sacri, deleted it in his subsequent ones, on the grounds that, as he writes in the appartaus, Encolpius could not know that these were sacred geese.54 Müller’s deletion gave the cue to a lively discussion among scholars, some favoring the deletion of sacri, some wishing to retain it. The most resolute 47 48 49

    50 51 52

    53 54

    326

    For the historical present see Ronconi 1959, 49-51, 86-88. Beck 1973; Beck 1975; Beck 1982. Beck 1973, 57-58. Similarly, Beck 1973, 56-57 believes the idyllic description of Oenothea’s hut at 135.8 to mirror the acting Encolpius’ literary delusions as recreated by Encolpius the narrator. But see Perutelli 1986, 135. Courtney 2001, 205: the present reor “shows a gap between event on the one hand and on the other narration and subsequent interpretation of the event”. Richardson 1980, 100. Concretely, Encolpius is not sure whether the three geese really came every day at noon to be fed by Oenothea (136.4 cum ecce tres anseres sacri, qui, ut puto, medio die solebant ab anu diaria exigere, impetum in me faciunt etc.; and whether the one which appeared to be dux ac magister saevitiae (136.4) really was the leader of the group (136.7 orbatique, ut existimo, duce). These are only conjectures Encolpius made at the moment and never was able, or cared, to check. Petr. 136.4, quoted in the preceding note. Müller 1995, 166: “sacros esse illos anseres Encolpius ne suspicabatur quidem, donec ad Oenothea resciit”.

    Mythological Monsters (Petr. 136.6) among the former has been T. Wade Richardson,55 just as Edward Courtney among the latter.56 Courtney contends that, in the Satyrica’s “Odyssean” pattern, the killing of the goose corresponds to that of the Sun’s cattle, which in his opinion makes sacri most appropriate. He also convincingly points out that, as a narrator, Encolpius anticipates details that Encolpius as an acting character could not know at the time. He does not refute, however, what might appear to be Richardson’s stronger point: the alleged incompatibility of sacri referred to the three geese with publicus applying to the one killed by Encolpius.57 This point is not so strong as it appears, however. In Petronius’ fantastic Croton religious cults like the one whose priestess Oenothea is are recognized by the state, to the point that the sorceress can threaten the authorities’ intervention to punish Encolpius’ “sacrilege”.58 This anser, then, is sacer and publicus at the same time. Besides, even without the previous occurrence of sacri, it would be difficult to give any other plausible meaning to an expression like anser publicus, which Encolpius – it should be minded – employs after he has learned from Oenothea he has killed “Priapus’ delight”. It should also be pointed out that nobody has apparently called attention to a detail appearing immediately after our poem, when Encolpius, after killing the most pugnacious goose, sees the others return to a temple.59 This can only mean that Encolpius must know that they have come from that temple, possibly that he saw them coming. This detail does not appear in the mangled text that has come down to us, and possibly it did not appear in the complete text either.60 Redierant, anyhow, allows us to be certain that Encolpius knew where the geese came from; we may recall that shortly before he had approached the door of the hut and possibly peeped out.61 But if the geese come from a temple it is only natural to call them sacri, with no need for far-fetched or outlandish explanations. At any rate, the whole geese episode, which contains our poem in its center, permits the distinction of three different moments, not only and not so much chronological, but primarily psychological: the protagonist’s confident “epic” and “heroic” euphoria, when he speaks of dux and proelium and is convinced he has achieved a glorious feat;62 his disenchantment following Oenothea’s re55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62

    Richardson 1980. Courtney 1991, 45; Courtney 1998, 205-206; Courtney 2001, 38. Petr. 137.5 et ipsa flere vehementius coepit meique misereri tamquam patrem meum, non publicum anserem, occidissem. Cf. Richardson 1980, 101. Petr. 137.2 occidisti Priapi delicias, anserem omnibus matronis acceptissimum, itaque ne te putes nihil egisse, si magistratus hoc scierint, ibis in crucem. Petr. 136.7 orbatique, ut existimo, duce redierant in templum. The abrupt opening of the geese adventure (136.4 cum ecce tres anseres sacri) makes it difficult to think that the geese were mentioned before; but the text is full of lacunae. Petr. 136.4 ita ad casae ostiolum processi. Dux at 136.4 and 136.7. Cf. also 136.12 ego qui putaveram me rem laude etiam dignam fecisse, ordine illi totum proelium exposui. 327

    Chapter XXI proach and, even more, the realization that money is much more powerful than literary dreams;63 and the narrator’s reflection, when, though still in the dark as far as some details are concerned (ut puto, ut existimo), he relives and rethinks his past experience, and, in his own present (reor), tries to make sense of it once more resorting to literary patterns even when he should have acquired greater maturity. Encolpius as presented to us by Petronius, first as the protagonist, then as the narrator of the story, is exposed as an incurable dreamer who, somewhat like Don Quixote, is uncapable to separate his shabby reality from his literary fancies even after the bitter disappointments he inevitably experiences.64

    63 64

    328

    Cf. the poem at 137.9. See ch. XXII; but the theme appears frequently in the Satyrica. That Encolpius the narrator, who while recounting his adventures is, or should be, well aware of the disappointments he has gone through, still continues to represent them in an idealized literary form – and consequently, as he goes on with the story, once more relives the same disappointments – is well revealed by the poem at 79.8, which describes a night of love with Giton according to well recognizable literary patterns, in spite of the bitter awakening, relived by the narrator with the same smarting intensity as at the narrated moment – as also shown by the immediately following present (79.9 frustra gratulor mihi). See ch. VII.

    Chapter XXII The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9)* Quisquis habet nummos, secura naviget aura fortunamque suo temperet arbitrio. Uxorem ducat Danaen ipsumque licebit Acrisum iubeat credere quod Danaen. Carmina componat, declamet, concrepet omnes et peragat causas sitque Catone prior. Iurisconsultus ‘parret, non parret’ habeto atque esto quicquid Servius et Labeo. Multa loquor; quod vis, nummis praesentibus opta: eveniet. Clausum possidet arca Iovem.

    5

    10

    L(=lrtp)O(=BRP) (= nvp[Paris. Lat. 7647]aeb) Ioh. Sarisb. Pol. 7.16 1-2; 5-6; 9-10 Vincent. Bellovac. spec. historiale 21.25 1 navigat Vincent. 2 temperat B Vincent. 4 Danae Courtney 5 componit declamat concrepat Vincent. 6 peragit Vincent. 7 parret non parret B: paret non paret cett. habento O 9 multa LO Ioh.: parva Vincent. quod vis O Vincent.: quidvis L Ioh. nummos Vincent. prebentibus n Vincent. opto Vincent. 10 eveniet (praeter p[Paris. Lat. 7647])t Vincent.: et veniet Olrp Ioh.

    1. Our poem is the last section of the Satyrica recorded by the O tradition and also the last of the four verse compostions marking the highlights of the part of

    Chapter XXII the Oenothea episode that has come down to us.1 It amounts to a comment or reflection on the situation depicted in the prose.2 Oenothea, only shortly before venting anger and threats at Encolpius for killing Priapus’ sacred goose, reverses her attitude as soon as she sees the two pieces of gold he offers as reparation. In fact, the poem revolves on the theme of the omnipotence of money and appears to be a development of Encolpius’ previous words: ecce duos aureos pono, unde possitis et deos et anseres emere.3 These words already pair the theme of money’s power with a disrespectful and all but sacrilegious attitude, which we shall also discover in the verse part. The poem is clearly not recited by the protagonist as an acting character to Oenothea: it could be a reflection made at the moment of the action by Encolpius, who – for once – correctly interprets the situation he is going through;4 but the present tense (multa loquor: v. 9) seems to bring us to the narrator’s time, when Encolpius is, or should be, able to pass more mature judgments on his past experiences than he was at the time they actually took place.5 It is certain, at any rate, that the theme developed in this poem is one of the most frequent in the novel; this is so true that some scholars believe these lines to be a general statement by the author, rather than just a simple comment by the protagonist or narrator about a specific situation.6 This is anything but impossible, in view of the constant recurrence of the theme; but we shall see that these lines also contribute to the characterization of the novel’s protagonist. A danger this interpretation is exposed to may be sharply severing our poem from the episode’s context, in which the verse intermezzos fulfill the function of marking different stages in the acting hero’s evolving psychological attitude. As a matter of fact, this poem has not received the attention it deserves from this point of view. Perutelli, who shrewdly investigated the relationship between the poems’ literary references and their function as a psychological counterpoint in * 1 2 3 4 5 6

    330

    A version of this chapter has appeared with the title The Poem at Petronius, Sat. 137,9 in: Authors, Authority, and Interpreters in the Ancient Novel. Essays in Honor of Gareth L. Schmeling. Ancient Narrative, Suppl. 5, Groningen 2006, 274-293. See chapters XIX, XX, XXI. Cf. Sullivan 1968, 189; Walsh 1970, 23 and n. 2; Barnes 1971, 281-282. Petr. 137.6 Barnes 1971, 281: “one of his rare moments of lucidity”; Beck 1973, 59: “a reflection which for once squarely hits the mark” Cf. Beck 1973, 59: “the narrator’s own commentary”. Stöcker 1969, 146: “hier liegt also wohl ein zwar satirisch übertriebener, aber doch auch ernst zu nehmender Kommentar Petrons vor, der das Thema ‘Die Macht des Goldes’ in vielen Brechungen immer wieder zur Sprache bringt”. On pp. 146-151 Stöcker treats this Petronian theme by discussing our poem as well as 14.2, 83.10, and 82.5, and also several prose passages. An opinion close to Stöcker’s is expressed by Winter 1992, 43: “daher ist es durchaus denkbar, daß Petron hier als auktorialer Erzähler einen über das Erzählgeschehen hinausreichende Kommentar formuliert, welcher thematisch so allgemein gehalten ist, daß es über das eigentliche Erzählen hinaus geht”.

    The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) the Oenothea episode,7 neglected ours, the fourth and last one; and Winter, who devoted a work to the verse intermezzos in this part of the Satyrica, lays emphasis on our poem’s diversity from the previous three and underlines its alleged lack of connection with the context as a whole.8 He is certainly right as far as stylistic level is concerned; the first three poems clearly follow specific literary models, on which it is hardly necessary to dwell once again here.9 The fourth one, by contrast, is marked by a low, nearly prosaic style.10 Our poem also differs as far as meter is concerned: it is not in hexameters, but in elegiac couplets, technically reminiscent of Catullan epigrams rather than of Augustan elegy.11 It would hardly be right, however, to conclude that it is not organically connected with the other poems and with the episode as a whole. On the one hand, the situation from which our poem stems amounts to a neat reversal of the xenia motif – i.e the poetical description of the hosting of gods or demigods by mortals who, as a rule, are as pious and generous as they are humble and poor –, which is one of the prevailing literary influences in the episode.12 The very presence of the goose killed by Encolpius is in all probability prompted by the Ovidian episode of Philemon and Baucis:13 the poor couple plan to kill their one goose to feed their godly guests, Jupiter and Mercury, but the latter ask them to spare the animal. In Petronius, however, the power of money is so great that even a “sacred”14 goose can be cooked and eaten with no qualms by the priestess herself – and not to honor divine guests, but for a private feast with the culprit of the slaughter, whom before his payment she had heavily threatened.15

    7 8 9

    10

    11 12 13

    14 15

    Perutelli 1986 (especially pp. 134-136). See chapters XIX, XX, XXI. Winter 1992, 43, 51-52. In short: 134.12 (Oenothea’s boasting about her magic powers) is influenced by motifs found e.g. in Theocr. 2 and frequently developed in Augustan poetry; 135.8 (description of Oenothea’s cabin) is reminiscent of Callimachus’ Hecale, expressly cited in the poem, and also of the Ovidian episode of Philemon and Baucis; 136.6 is a double “metaliterary” simile elaborating epic themes from Apollonius of Rhodes. See chapters XIX, XX, XXI. One may refer to the exhaustive linguistic and formal analysis offered by Winter 1992, 42-52, reaching this conclusion (pp. 51-52): “anders als die zuvor behandelten Versstücke 134,12; 135,8 und 136,6 findet sich keine hohe, sondern vielmehr eine gesucht niedrige Sprache, welche sich durck Volkstümlichkeit und Umgangston auszeichnet” Cf. Barnes 1971, 273-274 n. 35, 281. See chapters XX and XXI. Did Petronius’ goose, in turn, suggest Juvenal’s remark about the “big goose” (ansere magno) requested by Osiris (or rather his priests) to grant forgiveness? Cf. Iuv. 6.540541, For anseres sacri at 136.4 see ch. XXI, § 4. Petr. 137.12 epulasque etiam lautas paulo ante, ut ipsa dicebat, perituro paravit. 331

    Chapter XXII On the other hand, the irreverent reversal of the detail of the sparing of the animal in the xenia motif16 is topped by the praise of the power of money contained in the poem itself, which in turn is a neat reversal of the admirative picture of dignified and clever poverty – a constant theme in the xenia topic, found in the second poem of the Oenothea episode, in which Callimachus’ Hecale is expressly quoted. We might say that, whereas the first three poems – in hexameters – present us with a literary adaptation of Encolpius’ encounter with Oenothea according to well established models and patterns, the final epigram in elegiac couplets provides a sobering assessment of the situation, with the final remark that in reality, if not in literature, money is all-powerful – with priestesses as with everybody else.17 Along with the prose description18 this final poem amounts to a realistic counterpoint to the literary idealization – itself not devoid of comical effects – prevailing in the previous verse sections. 2. All the editions of Bücheler and Müller do not place a full stop after the last verse of our poem,19 implying that it may be incomplete. As already mentioned, it is the final piece transmitted by the O tradition. In L a lacuna is indicated before the following prose section, and very probably at least some words of junction have been lost. These, however, were part of the prose only, since the poem appears to be complete as it stands. A neat structure may be detected: the opening and final couplets state the general theme of the power of money and are linked by the repetition of the same word in the hexameters: nummos (v. 1) / nummis (v. 9). They provide a frame for the three central couplets containing special examples, the first taken from the world of mythology, the others from everyday life. The final picture of Jupiter shut up in the money-chest provides a quite fitting fulmen in clausula for the closing of the epigram.20 It would be difficult indeed to imagine additional verses that would not spoil the structure and the effectiveness of the poem. Though the first and last couplets form an enclosing frame for the central exemples, the structure of the poem as a whole can be, and has been, considered to amount to a formal Priamel. Race has seen in multa loquor, which opens the 16 17 18 19

    20

    332

    Appearing both in Ovid and in Callimachus (Hecale and third book of the Aitia). See chapters XX and XXI. According to Jensson 2004, 229 “the pessimistic argument ‘money is omnipotence’ is here considerably expanded to cover a vast sphere of influence”. The prose description is anything but idealizing and stands in lively contrast with the hexameter poems. So do also Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 147 and Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 157. Heseltine 1913, 310 prints a series of dots at the end of line 10; the same is done by Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 345 at the end of his translation. On the contrary, Ernout 1923, 171 places a full stop at the end of the poem. Cf. also Winter 1992, 50-52; Sommariva 1996, 73 n. 64.

    The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) last couplet, the climax which cuts short the list of examples.21 Other scholars find such a climax in the final remark about the superiority of gold not just over everyday activities but over religion itself – clausum possidet arca Iovem.22 Race, following Crusius,23 places our poem side by side with the one uttered by Eumolpus at 83.10,24 insofar as they both present the formal structure of the Priamel. As far as similarity of content is concerned, the two poems have been associated by other scolars.25 In reality both poems are based not on the mere pattern of the Priamel, but rather on a special, widespread type of Priamel listing the different vocations in life and reserving the last place for the one chosen by the author.26 The different goals and vocations are usually arranged in a fourfold pattern: honors and power, money, pleasure, culture, or , and . The highest value is normally allotted to the latter, and, accordingly, “philosophy” is often replaced by the special “cultural” vocation of each author: in the standard specimen of such a Priamel – Horace’s first ode – the climax is reserved for poetry. This type of Priamel is typical of protreptics and introductions (proems):27 the series of traditionally recognized lifestyles precedes the author’s choice for his own life (or, in protreptics, the one that is recommended); and, as I have argued elsewhere,28 Horace’s opening ode must be seen in this light – as the introduction to, and justification of, his activity as a lyrical poet. As we have seen in a preceding chapter,29 the poem at 83.10, the first uttered by the poet Eumolpus shortly after his first appearance, should also be considered both as an introduction to the poetical corpus he will produce in the subsequent sections of the novel and as a justification for his literary – and, more specifically, poetical – vocation itself. His outline of the several , or life choices, is hardly different from the one sketched by Horace in his first ode. Like Horace, Eumolpus exemplifies the through the figure of the sea-faring merchant; as a representative of the he offers 21 22

    23 24 25 26 27 28 29

    Race 1982, 148. Cf already Crusius 1905, 2305. Another poem structured as a Priamel, not considered by Race, is 139.2. See ch. XVIII. Barnes 1971, 282: “the poem… reaches a satisfying climax in its concluding sententia, ‘A money-chest holds captive Jupiter himself’”; Adamietz 1995, 326: “am Ende dieser Aufzählung steht als Höhepunkt die Vorstellung der Macht über die Religion”. Cf. Fröhlke 1977, 70: “in der Szene cap. 127 besitzen selbst religiöse Normen nicht unbeschränkte Gültigkeit, Geld erweist sich auch hier als stärker. Cap. 137,9 betont noch einmal die Allmacht des Geldes für alle Bereiche”. Cf. note 21. See ch. X. E.g. Stöcker 1969, 147-151; Winter 1992, 44. See Setaioli 1973, with the literature quoted and discussed. The very term Priamel comes from Präambel, a preamble. Setaioli 1973. See ch. X, with the literature quoted and discussed. 333

    Chapter XXII the vilis adulator, who can easily be equated with the delator, a typical socialclimbing figure under the empire; the is illustrated through the example of the adulterer.30 Unlike in Horace’s ode, however, in Eumolpus’ poem all these life choices are not pursued for their own sake: all of them, not just the proper, move toward one and the same goal: profit.31 The climax of Eumolpus’ Priamel – facundia, a life devoted to literature, in his case poetry – is sharply set apart from all other lifestyles in that it provides no money for those choosing it: a recognition which can perhaps provide the basis for a deeper understanding of Eumolpus as a literary character, in my opinion one of Petronius’ most felicitous creations.32 If we now go back to our poem at 137.9, we shall see that, whereas at 83.10 money is the one goal and a universal overshadows each one of the lifestyles described before the climax of the Priamel (i.e. the author’s own choice at the place of honor in the list), here the perspective is reversed: in this poem money is not the goal to attain but rather the starting point securing access to any lifestyle one may choose; consequently no lifestyle is exempted from subjection to the power of money, as facundia, though marginalized, still was at 83.10. The traditional are there nevertheless. The is illustrated by the seduction of Danae, ostensibly by Jupiter, but in reality by anyone rich enough to bribe both the girl and her father. The is replaced here as at 83.10 by literature: poetry (carmina) and rhetoric (declamet); but far from being opposed to wealth as in the previous poem, here access to a successful literary career – as well as to any other – is secured by money alone. The same is true, of course, for the , here represented by such universally respected and influential figures as the orator and the jurisconsult. Encolpius’ inverted perspective makes the specific mention of the unnecessary, as the latter has become the indispensable engine needed to put all other lifestyles in motion. What are we to make of this idea? We have seen that according to some scholars Petronius himself is speaking through Encolpius in this poem.33 By

    30

    31

    32 33

    334

    Military life (as hinted at by Eumolpus at 83.10.2) is a life choice typical of Roman texts on the subject; it appears not only in Hor. c. 1.1, but also in Tibullus, Propertius, Ovid, and Columella. In Greek it is found only in comparatively late authors, such as Dio Chrysostom, Maximus of Tyre, Diogenes of Oenoanda, Clemens of Alexandria, and Libanius. See ch. X, text to note 9. See ch. X. The poem at 83.10, like ours at 137.9, and others, is a clear illustration of the all-pervading theme of the power of money in the Satyrica. For. 128.6 see ch. XV, and below, § 4. See ch. X, text to notes 20-37. Stöcker 1969, 146; Winter 1992, 43. Cf. above, note 6.

    The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) contrast, Connors34 argues that what Encolpius believes35 to be a universally valid lesson he has gained from his experience – the idea of the power of money he has drawn from Oenothea’s behavior – will only lead him to further disappointments. She remarks that “the claim that wealth can make the sea safe is plainly implausible”. One may rejoin that this is nothing but a widespread metaphor, as already remarked by González de Salas36 and later by other scholars.37 Besides, the poem is talking about subjective assuredness, not objective safety.38 But this, as well as what follows, must give us pause. The statement that the wealthy may feel safe at sea and that money can make them successful poets, rhetoricians, orators, and jurists can surely hold true in the “parallel world” created by the universally accepted adoration of money – but can it claim any objective validity? The reader of the Satyrica has already heard Eumolpus preach about the topsy-turvy world of false values promoted and/or accepted by the wealthy and those who recognize no other goal but wealth – a world in which the few people still striving after true values are regarded as a handful of freaks pursuing a discredited lifestyle.39 Those who have money can feel subjectively confident (as we have remarked, this is the nuance of meaning conveyed by secura, trasferred – ironically? – from the sailor to the aura) and be successful as long as society accepts the “perverted” principles based not on reality but on the power and prestige common agreement has bestowed on wealth. But can this fictitious world hold on for ever? Given the state of Petronius’ transmitted text, this basic question can be – and has been – answered in a variety of ways.40

    34 35

    36

    37 38 39 40

    Connors 1998, 75. Cf. also Sommariva 1996, 74. One may remark that a verb in the first person appears in our poem (loquor, v. 9). In the Oenothea episode there is another instance in a poem: 136.6.2 reor. See ch. XXI, § 4. Verbs in the first person also appear in the poems at 79.8; 132.8; 133.3. The first person pronoun at 79.8.5; 132.15.1; 139.2.1 and 7. Ap. Burman 1743, II, 284: “secura naviget aura.] De vulgi ac fortunae favore capiendus plane locus, quae frequens allegoria est scriptoribus priscis”. Follows the quotation of Hor. epist. 1.18.87-88 tu dum tua navis in alto est / hoc age ne mutata retrorsum te ferat aura. E.g. Winter 1992, 45: “das Bild der Seefahrt zur Darstellung der Lebensgestaltung ist in der römischen Literatur topisch (TLL II 1, 1473, 72 ff.)”; Töchterle 1994, 568. Secura (v. 1) is in no way equivalent to tuta. Cf. e.g. Sen. ep. 97.13 ita est: tuta scelera esse possunt, (the integration is all but certain). Cf. Petr. 84.1-4; 88.2-10, and see ch. X. As we shall see, both the structure and the idea of this poem are closely paralleled in a passage of Lucian’s Gallus (§§ 13-14), where the power of gold is exemplified first by Danae’s seduction, then by its capability to make anyone who possesses it successful and respected in anything he does. In Lucian this idea is immediately refuted by the rooster (a reincarnation of Pythagoras). Petronius’ position is much more difficult to pinpoint. 335

    Chapter XXII 3. In our poem the supreme god of the Romans is mentioned by name in the last line and is clearly hinted at in the mythological example of Danae’s seduction in lines 3-4 illustrating one of the ways in which money can show its power – the successful pursuit of pleasure, the . Winter repeatedly remarks that according to this piece of verse the wealthy man has the same power as Jupiter.41 But the poem – both in itself and even more when compared with other poems in the Croton section of the Satyrica – clearly shows that Encolpius regards the rich man as more powerful than the supreme god and that his attitude to the latter is irreverent and all but sacrilegious. We have already pointed out Encolpius’ unrespectful words ushering in his payment for the slain goose as well as the change in Oenothea’s attitude, which in turn provides the cue for our poem on the power of money: unde possitis et deos et anseres emere. In view of these words one might take the poem as Encolpius’ rejection of Oenothea’s advice – no matter how hypocritical – to pray to the gods for forgiveness.42 There is no doubt that an equation between Jupiter and money is implied in the last line, which states that the arca has Jupiter enclosed within itself. The word arca is currently used in Latin to describe a money-chest;43 but the same word is also used by Latin mythographers44 referring to the floating chest in which Danae was shut up with her son Perseus after her father Acrisius learned about her seduction – the of a famous fragment of Simonides45 and Apollodorus’ narration of the myth.46 It is not difficult to see that Encolpius has reversed the mythological roles: it is not Danae, but Jupiter to be enclosed in the arca;47 the rich man not only owns money, but (because of this) can box up the 41

    42 43

    44

    45 46 47

    336

    Winter 1992, 46: “derjenige, welcher über Geld verfügt, die gleichen Möglichkeiten wie Zeus hat”; 51: “arca possidet Iovem i.e. qui habet arcam nummorum plenam, possidet facultates Iovis omnes”. Shortly after, however, he seems to recognize that the wealthy man is more powerful than Jupiter [“darüber hinaus gibt das Geld sogar Verfügungsgewalt über den Götterkönig (clausum) selbst”]. For the import of Encolpius’ mytholgical allusions cf. Yeh 2007, 84-85. Petr. 137.8 tu modo deos roga ut illi facto tuo ignoscant. Cf. also Winter 1992, 43. Cf. TLL II 432, 13-433, 10. Even Jupiter himself is jocularly – and unrespectfully – said to have such a money-chest: Mart. 9.3.14 nam tibi quod solvat non habet arca Iovis. In Petronius’ poem Jupiter, like money, is in the chest. Cf. Varro ant. div. fr. 238 Cardauns et Pecunia… vocatur (Iuppiter), quod eius sunt omnia. Hygin. fab. 63.2 quam (Danaen) pater ob stuprum inclusam in arca cum Perseo in mare deiecit; Serv. ad Aen. 7.372 pater eam (Danaen) intra arcam inclusam praecipitavit in mare. Simon. fr. 13 Diehl Apollod. 2.4.1 ! " To my knowledge, Connors 1998, 75 is the only one to have noticed this reversal of the myth; but she does not connect it with Encolpius’ general attitude toward Jupiter nor with the mythographers’ use of the term arca.

    The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) supreme god himself.48 Money, not Jupiter, is after all the real god: in the last hexameter the words nummis praesentibus, in themselves a current technical expression meaning “ready cash”,49 are almost certainly employed as an irreverent counterpart of another technical expression used in religious language – praesentia numina –, which is also found in Petronius, in a different part of the Satyrica.50 But the rich man’s superiority is stressed in another more biting – if more oblique – way too. In the couplet on Danae’s seduction the rich man will succeed in making not merely the girl, but also her father, believe what he wants them to – or, as Encolpius puts it, he will be able to make Acrisius believe what he made Danae believe.51 Now, what did Danae’s seducer have her believe? Clearly, that he was Jupiter. Was he telling the truth? If so, one cannot help remarking that the god of myth was less successful than Petronius’: in the myth Acrisius did not believe that his daughter’s seducer was the supreme god,52 whereas Petronius’ rich man can persuade both father and daughter. But the wording of the poem leaves open a much more irreverent implication. In the myth, our poem implies, Danae’s real seducer53 succeeded in making her, though not her father, believe that he was the supreme god; in other words, that she was seduced by Jupiter was only what Danae believed – make-believe in the literal sense of the word –:54 her seducer was rich enough to bribe her into be48

    49 50

    51

    52

    53 54

    Clausum can also be taken in two different ways: as referring to money’s natural arrangement in the chest, and to Jupiter’s inferiority as compared with the rich man (with clausum conveying a meaning close to “imprisoned”). Cf. Petr. 109.2 praesentes… denarios centum; 109.3 praesentes denarios ducenos; Sen. ben. 7.2.1 non praesentibus nummis. Cf. also Petr. 117.3 Petr. 17.5 nostra regio… praesentibus plena est numinibus. More texts in Sommariva 1996, 73 n. 64. For praesentia numina see also Codoñer 1989, 56, who, however, does not mention this irreverent counterpart. Winter 1992, 47 is quite wrong in saying that what the seducer wants Acrisius to believe is that Danae is still a virgin. Danae’s seducer wants both father and daughter to believe the same thing, and surely Danae cannot be made to believe that she is still a virgin. Winter is right, however, when he remarks that iubeat credere amounts to a semantic oxymoron. Apollod. 2.4.1 # … $ % .; Ov. met. 4.610-611 neque enim Iovos esse credebat / Persea, quem pluvio Danae conceperat auro. Proetus, according to one version of the myth: Apollod. 2.4.1 $ ! ! & … $ ! ' Courtney 1991, 43, followed by Connors 1998, 74, corrects the manuscripts’ Danaen to Danae, because – he says – “with the accusative one would be forced to understand credere iubet, which makes no sense”. This completely misses the point. The stress lies not so much on what Danae believed as on what she was made to believe (credere iussit must be supplied, rather than iubet, as Courtney thinks). The nominative Danae would imply that her judgment was independent, not swayed by a wealthy seducer. It would 337

    Chapter XXII lieving his pretense of being Jupiter, but not enough to do the same with Acrisius. By contrast, Encolpius’ latter-day “mythological” seducer clearly has enough money to persuade both, and so have his way with both father and daughter. The inescapable consequence this entails is that Danae was not, in reality, seduced by Jupiter. Encolpius’ sacrilegious remark that money can buy geese and gods is developed in the poem by this blasphemous implication, which picks up an idea already apparent in a previous poem, in which Jupiter is described as old and impotent, and Danae also figures prominently.55 In his amorous excitement over Circe, Encolpius doubts and depises Jupiter’s vaunted erotic exploits. In another poem he pictures himself and Circe as replacing Zeus and Hera in the celebrated love scene of Iliad 14.56 Apparently, he does not consider his present impotence as retribution for such blasphemy, since he continues in his sacrilegious attitude. This reinforces the case for arguing that Encolpius’ present trust in the power of money will not save him from further disappointments. As a final remark we may emphasize Petronius’ adroitness in giving a conventional theme – the allegorization of Danae’s myth, with its “rain of gold”, as a standard example of the power of money57 – an original and unexpected turn. The pairing of this myth with everyday life to exemplify money’s all-pervading power was a diatribic theme, as made clear by Lucian’s Gallus;58 but the cue for granting gold superiority over gods may well have come from a well-known text of Menander,59 whose influence on our poem is made certain, as we shall see, by unmistakable textual correspondences.

    55 56 57

    58 59

    338

    completely destroy the “semantic oxymoron” (cf. above, note 51) which so aptly expresses the power of money on both father and daughter. Petr. 126.18. See ch. XIII. There the “real Danae” (vera… Danae) is Encolpius’ Circe. Petr. 127.9. See ch. XIV. This was a well-established interpretation of the myth. It is already clear in Euripides’ Danae (frs. 324, 326, 327 Kannicht) and later becomes a stock motif: cf. e.g. Hor. c. 3.16; Ov. am. 3.8.29-34 (also ars 2.277-278); CE 938; Tiberian. 2.7-8 Mattiacci; AP 5.31; 5.33; 5.34; 5.125; 12.239. Cf. above, note 40, and below, § 4. Menand. fr. 614 Koerte $ ( ) / * * +/ $ ) / $ < > / $ , / ) ! / / +/ * $ . Gold and silver are the real gods, and the man with money has the gods themselves as servants, not unlike Encolpius’ rich man with Jupiter in his money-chest.

    The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) 4. A finely woven web of literary reminiscences and allusions can be detected in our poem. I am not merely referring to stock sentences on the power of money,60 but to literary texts which have influenced it. Burman61 already reports the pairing of Encolpius’ poem with a chorus in Seneca’s Oedipus, in connection with the nautical metaphor at the beginning,62, where other formal and conceptual echoes can also be recognized.63 The power of money is of course a stock motif in the literature influenced by diatribe. Some close parallels to the specific turns it receives in our poem can nevertheless be pointed out. The idea that money endows whoever owns it with every merit64 is repeatedly found in Horace,65 and his idea that it gives one not just eloquence and every other distinction, but also a suitable wife66 can easily be paired with the structure of our poem, though in it uxorem ducat Danaen surely refers to seduction rather than to lawful marriage. The closest parallel, however, can be found in Lucian’s work Gallus, which we have referred to in connection with another Petronian poem also centered on money.67 A poor cobbler, who owns a rooster in whose body no less than Pythagoras is reincarnated, describes the power of money first by expressly referring to the Danae story, then through examples from daily life.68 We have al60

    61 62

    63

    64 65

    66 67 68

    Such as the proverb in Apostol. 12.56 (Paroem. Gr. II 556) * ) . This proverb is also quoted by Burman 1743, I, 846; then by Otto 1890, 247 (s.v. nummus, with v. 1 of our poem). Burman 1743, I, 846. Sen. Oed. 882 ff. fata si liceat mihi / fingere arbitrio meo, / temperem Zephyro levi / vela, ne pressae gravi / spiritu antemnae gemant etc. (aura v. 888). Töchterle 1994, 568 emphasizes the lexical parallels (arbitrio, temperem, aura). Degl’Innocenti Pierini 1999, 55-56 stresses Petronius’ reversal of the Senecan theme: not the poor, but the rich man can direct his own destiny. Cf. e.g. Verg. Aen. 4.340-341 me si fata meis paterentur ducere vitam / arbitriis; and, more important, consol. ad Liviam 371 fortuna arbitriis tempus dispensat iniquis. Winter 1992, 45-46 remarks that Petronius neatly reverses the idea: the rich man can ordain fortuna according to his arbitrium, rather than depending on hers. If not in reality, in the fictitious “parallel world” based on the common acceptance of the power of money: cf. § 2, end. E.g. Hor. sat. 2.3.94-98 omnis enim res, / virtus, fama, decus, divina humanaque pulchris / divitiis parent; quas qui construxerit, ille / clarus erit, fortis, iustus. Sapiensne? Etiam et rex / et quicquid volet. Hor. epist. 1.6.36-38 scilicet uxorem cum dote fidemque et amicos / et genus et formam regina Pecunia donat, / ac bene nummatum decorat Suadela Venusque. Petr. 128.6. See ch. XV. Lucian. gall. 13 $ $. / $ $ # ! * $ … $ $ 0 * ! ! $ 1 2 3

    339

    Chapter XXII ready seen69 how this diatribic structure was infused by Petronius with a more biting spirit perhaps under the influence of a text by Menander which we shall encounter again in the next, and final, paragraph, in which we shall tackle some problems connected with specific points of our text. 5. Vv. 1-2 naviget… temperet] All tradition unanimously gives naviget in line 1 and all witnesses but B read temperet at line 2. The indicatives navigat… temperat are found in Vincent of Beauvais, who quoted the first, third, and fifth couplets in his Speculum historiale.70 The subjunctives of the direct tradition were retained by the early editors and by Bücheler in his first edition, but later he preferred Vincent’s navigat… temperat. He has been followed by most German and Anglo-Saxon scholars,71 but by few in Italy and France.72 In the following lines (3-6) all editors accept the subjunctives given by the direct tradition73 – which is quite inconsistent, because in vv. 5-6 Vincent gives all these verbs as indicatives too (componit, declamat, concrepat, peragit), except the final one (sitque, v. 6), which cannot be explained in him except by assuming it to be the only remnant of a series of subjunctives which were arbitrarily changed to indicatives. As it has been observed,74 in a sentence quoted out of context the indicative can easily replace other moods, as it appears to convey objective validity; but in the poem as a whole, as we read it in the direct tradition, the subjunctives of the third couplet appear to correspond naturally to those of the first one.

    69 70 71

    72

    73

    74

    340

    4 Cf. 14 $ 3

    *

    !

    !

    Above, text to note 59. Vincent. Bellov. spec. hist. 21.25. Cf. Bücheler 1862, xxxii-xxxiii. Müller has navigat… temperat in all his editions. This reading is preferred also by Heseltine 1913, 310; Courtney 1991, 42; Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni 1995, 157; Stöcker 1969, 146; Connors 1998, 74; Winter 1992, 45, 47 (though he regards naviget… temperet worthy of consideration). An exception is Giardina-Cuccioli Melloni (see previous note). Naviget… temperet is given by Ernout 1923, 171; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 145; Ciaffi 19672, 350; Aragosti 1995, 520; Reverdito 1995, 262; Scarsi 1996, 244; Sommariva 1996, 73 n. 64. The translation given by Stubbe 1933, 183 (“darf… segeln,… kann… regeln”) shows that he accepts the subjunctives in the text. Pellegrino 1975, 185 has naviget… temperat. Winter 1992, 46 is right in observing that ducat (v. 3) is determined – like iubeat (v. 4) – by licebit. This, however, is much more questionable for the series of subjunctives starting with componat (v. 5), though Winter would have us believe they are still influenced by licebit. In all likelihood they are jussive-potential subjunctives, paralleled by the future licebit and the future imperatives habeto and esto, and, in my opinion, by the subjunctives naviget… temperet in the first two lines. Cf. Sommariva 1996, 73 n. 64, who also observes that line 1 of our poem has the indicative not only in Vincent, but also in Medieval collections of sentences, where it appears isolated. Cf. also the apparatus of Courtney 1991, 42.

    The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) If Vincent’s testimony in vv. 5-6 is rejected, in the first couplet it should be rejected too. Bücheler remarks that Vincent’s quotation from our poem shows that he was using a text quite close to the Florilegium Gallicum ( ),75 and Müller echoes him.76 Vincent’s quotation does have much in common with the text given by the Florilegium ( ).77 However in vv. 1-2 and 5-6 has constantly subjunctives. Now, if Vincent draws upon or a text close to , and the latter has subjunctives, it follows that Vincent’s indicatives in all these lines are his own innovations and can hardly claim the status of independent tradition; therefore, just as at vv. 5-6, the subjunctives must be retained against Vincent, so in lines 1-2 naviget… temperet are the only acceptable readings. V. 4 Danaen] Courtney’s Danae is ulseless and misleading. Cf. note 54. Vv. 5-6 concrepet omnes / et peragat causas] Editors and other scholars do not agree on the meaning and arrangement of these words.78 Some place a comma after concrepet,79 which entails the anastrophe of et, referring omnes to causas, and taking the verb to have no object. The noise described by concrepet is taken by several interpreters to refer to the snapping of fingers,80 often making omnes the object of the verb.81 But when concrepo refers to the snapping of fingers it is always accompanied by digitos82 or digitis and similar expressions.83 In Petr. 23.2 infractis manibus concrepuit the verb is Jahn’s correction for the transmitted congemuit.84 Still others take concrepet to be causative, i.e. the ora-

    75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84

    Bücheler 1862, xxxii: “unde clare apparet quanto opere a Vincentio compilatus liber congruerit cum florilegio”. Müller 1961, 174: “quisquis… Iovem habent (unde versus [1-2; 5-6; 9-10] excerpsit Vincentius Bellovacensis) et Ioan. Sar. Policr. VII 16”. At v. 9: parva loquor; quod vis; prebentibus (the latter given not by the whole tradition, but only by the Nostrademensis [n]); at v. 10: eveniet. Cf. Hamacher 1975, 138. It may be interesting to observe that Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 146 skip concrepet in their translation. So Stöcker 1969, 146; Hamacher 1975, 138 (in his edition of the text). Since Burman 1743, I, 846: “accipio de crepitu digitorum, quo silentium faciebant oratores”. Heseltine 1913, 311: “snap his fingers at the world”; Walsh 1996, 141: “one wholly free to snap his fingers at the world”; Connors 1998, 75: “he’d snap his fingers at everyone”. As in Petr. 27.5 cum Trimalchio digitos concrepuit (transitive). Cf. TLL IV 94, 10; 22-29 (intransitive). Winter 1992, 48 supplies manus audientium after concrepet, but he must admit that, with his interpretation, “der Vers nur schwer zu verstehen ist”. 341

    Chapter XXII tor to cause loud approval or applause by the audience.85 But such a use of the verb implying a personal object is nowhere recorded in Latin.86 One may observe that in the three other certain Petronian occurrences the verb is always transitive.87 However, rather than making omnes a personal object, I would rather refer it to causas and take this as an object of both concrepet and peragat.88 The two verbs describe two different stages of the trial: the speaker, whose only oratorical merit is wealth, can only shout – “make cases resound” – but eventually, because of his money, the conclusion (per-) will be victorious.89 A useful parallel is provided by another poetic passage in the Satyrica: in the Bellum civile Caesar expresses his unfaltering trust in victory by saying mea causa peracta est.90 V. 5 Catone] When Courtney91 takes this Cato as a paragon of rectitude and refers to the poem at 132.15,92 he seems to identify him with the Uticensis, who fought Caesar in the civil war and appears in the Bellum civile recited by Eumolpus (119.45-50). Bracht Branham and Kinney93 think the poem is referring to M. Porcius Cato Licinianus, the son of the Censor and a renowned legal expert. However, the Cato of the poem is not mentioned as a jurisconsult, but as an orator94 – a capacity in which Cato the Censor was highly regarded. The latter is undoubtedly meant here, as proved by the analysis of Debray95 and as accepted by many scholars.96 85

    86 87 88 89

    90 91 92 93 94

    95 96

    342

    Ernout 1923, 171: “il fera s’exclamer tout l’auditoire”; Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 145: “imponga l’applauso”; Ciaffi 19672, 351: “al pubblico strappi gli applausi”; Aragosti 1995, 521: “strappi a tutti gli applausi”. Cf. Reverdito 1995, 263; Scarsi 1996, 245. Neither is the meaning “overwhelm by shouting”: cf. e.g. Stubbe 1933, 183: “alle wird er niederdröhnen”. Petr. 22.6 concrepans aera; 27.5 digitos concrepuit; 59.3 hastisque scuta concrepuit. For 22.3 see above, in the text. This seems to be the interpetation favored in TLL IV 94, 43-44. Several interpreters have caught this nuance: e.g. Heseltine 1913, 311: “win his cases”; Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 146: “win one and all those lawsuits”; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 345: “siegreich endet er jeden Prozeß”. Petr. 122.175-176 certe mea causa peracta est: / inter tot fortes armatus nescio vinci. Courtney 1991, 43. The same reference in Barnes 1971, 281. For the Catones at 135.12.1 see ch. XVII. Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 146 n. 4. For the high reputation of Cato Licinianus as a jusrist see Gell. 13.20.9 and cf. Debray 1919, 35-36. Legal experts appear only in the next couplet and their standard representatives are said to be Servius and Labeo; Cato must therefore be mentioned as a universally appreciated orator, as the reference to causae makes clear. Debray 1919, 34-36. Starting with González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 284, who refers to Plin. NH 7.100. See also Quint. 12.11.23. In recent times e.g. Ciaffi 19672, 350 n. 376; Winter 1992, 48; Reverdito 1995, 305 n. 309; Walsh 1996, 200.

    The Omnipotence of Gold (Petr. 137.9) V. 7 ‘parret non parret’] This spelling appears only in B; the rest of the tradition has paret non paret. As Courtney rightly remarks,97 it is a legal fossil, and must therefore be retained as a lectio difficilior. Festus testifies to the existence of such a spelling in juridical formulas, though he rejects it,98 and it is confirmed by several occurrences in glossaries and grammatical texts, as well as by isolated readings given by single manuscripts of Cicero’s orations, etc.99 Two epigraphical evindences are pointed out by Crook.100 Bücheler did not adopt this spelling in his editions,101 but thought he could point out a linguistic parallel in the Tabulae Iguvinae, where he interpreted the Umbrian form parsest102 as an exact equivalent of Latin parrebit.103 This interpretation, however, has not been accepted by later scholars.104 The sentence parret, non parret serves as the object of habeto: if the rich man chooses to become a jurisconsult, the undisputed right to decide whether something is or is not proven (parret, non parret) will be recognized to him.105 This verb is often found in the formula,106 especially in the intentio, i.e. in the part in which the plaintiff states what he claims,107 and in the condemnatio, empowering the judge to condemn or acquit the defendant.108 Obviously in these cases the verb is normally preceded by si (or sometimes by in quantum or the like). The power to decide whether something is proven (paret) or not lies obvi97 98

    99

    100 101 102 103 104 105

    106 107

    108

    Courtney 1991, 43. Fest. p. 262, 15 Lindsay parret, quod est in formulis, debuit et producta priore syllaba pronuntiari, et non gemino r scribi, ut fieret paret, quod est inveniatur, ut comparet, apparet; cf. Paul. ex Fest. p. 247, 25 Lindsay parret significat apparebit. See this evidence collected by Heraeus 1937, 147. Here are some occurrences: CGL IV 418, 22 parret consecrat (constat d e f) manifestum est; V 472, 23 parret constitum (constitutum a b) vel constat seu complacit; V 541, 35 si parrit si constat; GL IV 275 S.P. si parret; 12 S.N.P.A. si non parret absolvito. For this spelling see also TLL X 1, 371, 55-68. Crook 1984, 1353-1354. See however Heraeus’ supplement in Bücheler’s sixth edition (1922, 286). Tab. Iguv. VIIb, 2. Bücheler 1883, 118. See e.g. Devoto 19542, 136, 308. Devoto writes separately: pars est (= par est). For the use of parret (paret) and non parret (non paret) in the meaning of “proven”, “not proven” see TLL X 1, 373, 37-78. Yeh 2007, 503 remarks that line 7 is holospondaic, aptly producing “par sa lenteur rythmyque un ton solemnel, digne d’un jurisconsulte”. See the treatment of the formula in Gaius inst. 4.30-52. Si paret appears at 4.34, 37, 41, 46, 47; cf. 3.91; si non paret at 4.43, 46, 47, 50, 51. Cf. Gaius inst. 4.41 intentio est ea pars formulae qua actor desiderium suum concludit, velut haec pars formulae: si paret Numerium Negidium Aulo Agerio sestertium X milia dare oportere etc. Si paret… condemnato (cf. Gaius inst. 4.46, 47); si non paret absolvito (cf. Gaius inst. 4.43, 46, 47, 50, 51). 343

    Chapter XXII ously with the judge. But the guidelines for the latter’s activity laid down by especially authoritative jurisconsults, such as Servius Sulpicius Rufus and M. Antistius Labeo mentioned in the poem – in their teaching, writings, and responses – were considered to be binding for the judge.109 Justinian himself testifies to this.110 In the world ruled by money the rich man, if he becomes a jurisconsult, will naturally attain such an authority. According to Crook there is a joke in the poem,111 based on the contrast between the pronunciation and the spelling of the jurist (parret) and the current ones (paret): “as a jurist he will be entitled to say parret, instead of paret” (‘parret’, non ‘paret’ habeto, writing the second form with a single “r”). This of course misses the point of the poem, namely that money can bestow on whoever has it the power of an authoritative jurist: something much more important than linguistic niceties. V. 10 eveniet] This reading is given by and Vincent. Most editors accept et veniet given by L (except t) and O. Most editors also accept quod vis offered by and Vincent (and also by O) at v. 9, rejecting quidvis found in L and John of Salisbury. But and Vincent are in both cases borne out by the comparison with Menander’s fragment we have already quoted,112 which makes me prefer their text in both cases, not just in the first one, as the majority of scholars do.113 Eveniet also appears to fit the context better – it is often used in reference to the granting of a prayer;114 and here ready cash (nummi praesentes) is a more powerful deity than the numina praesentia.115 The imperative not followed by et in the function of the protasis of a conditional sentence is found elsewhere in Petronius116 and is not unusual in colloquial language.117 109

    110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117

    344

    Cf. Debray 1919, 34, who however does not refer to Justinian’s text quoted in the next note. Some interpreters, who have missed this point, mistakenly assume parret, non parret to refer to judges: Reverdito 1995, 263: “se fa il giudice abbia il ‘consta’ e il ‘non consta’”; Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 146: “play judge, and cry ‘sustain’ and ‘overrule’”. Iustinian. inst. 1.2.8, p. 6 Huschke quorum omnium sententiae et opiniones eam auctoritatem tenebant, ut iudici recedere a responso eorum non liceret, ut est constitutum. Crook 1984, 1355-1356. See above, note 59: ! ~ quod vis; ~ eveniet (neither preceded by a conjunction). In his first edition Bücheler (Bücheler 1862, 199), though writing et veniet in the text, regarded eveniet as possibly the correct reading, in view of the parallel with Menander. Ov. fast. 4.775 quae precor eveniant; ex Pont. 2.1.55 quod precor eveniet. Even in connection with opto, like in our Petronian text: Ov. met. 6.370 eveniunt optata deae. Cf. above, text to notes 48-50. E.g. Petr. 44.3 serva me, servabo te. For both this usage and the imperative followed by et in the same function see Setaioli 2000, 54.

    Appendix I Vegetable and Bald Heads (Petr. 109.10.3-4)* 1. At Satyrica 109.9-10 Eumolpus recites some verses1 poking fun at the plight of his two friends, Encolpius and Giton, whose heads have been completely shaved in the futile attempt to pass them off as fugitive slaves having been so punished, thus enabling them to escape recognition by Lichas and Tryphaena. Three elegiac couplets are followed by seven hendecasyllables. Here I mean to concentrate on a single problem, posed by an expression in the hendecasyllables. Addressing presumably Giton (or perhaps both him and Encolpius) in the second person singular, Eumolpus tells him: “Poor head, you gleamed with hair / than sun and moon more fair; / bronze-bald, as tuber round / rain-born in garden ground, / now mocking girls you dread”.2 I have purposely adopted this translation by Bracht Branham and Kinney,3 though I do not agree with the reference to rain, because it preserves the exact equivalent of the Latin word around which our problem revolves, namely tuber. Giton’s bald head is called smoother than polished bronze or than a vegetable, referred to as tuber, which is round, grows in a vegetable garden, and is generated by water: levior aere vel rotundo / horti tubere, quod creavit unda (vv. 3-4; 9-10 of the whole poem). Opinions as to the nature of this vegetable have varied, and may fall into three categories. By far the greatest number of interpreters take this tuber to be some sort of mushroom growing on the surface of the earth. This interpretation also seems to be the oldest: it was first proposed by Weitz, who – if we can trust Burman – took the word to indicate a “genus fungorum”.4 A survey of some in* 1 2

    3 4

    A version of this appendix has appeared with the title Vegetables and Bald Heads (Petr. Sat. 109.10.3-4), “Prometheus” 32, 2006, 233-244 See ch. XII. Petr. 109.10.1-5 Infelix, modo crinibus nitebas / Phoebo pulchrior et sorore Phoebi. / At nunc levior aere vel rotundo / horti tubere, quod creavit unda, / ridentes fugis et times puellas. Bracht Branham-Kinney 1997, 106. Burman 1743, I, 653.

    Appendix I terpreters of Petronius spanning the whole twentieth century reveals its wide popularity. I have found it in all languages: in Italian,5 German,6 English,7 and French.8 Though widespread, however, this interpretation lacks reliable linguistic support. As far as I know, tuber is never used in Latin to indicate a surface mushroom, and, though mushrooms do sometimes grow in gardens, they can hardly be referred to with the simple expression horti tuber, which seems more appropriate for a plant typically found and grown in vegetable gardens. Only in the fantastic world of a billionaire like Trimalchio can one fancy to order boletus seeds from India and start growing them in one’s garden.9 But of course Trimalchio is also credited with growing a tropical crop like pepper in his land in Italy, and even with having hen’s milk at home.10 The only reason I can think of for the popularity of this interpretation is that one expects the smooth, shining bald head to be compared with something clearly visible, whereas the only viable alternative seems to be taking tuber to mean something hidden underground. In fact, this latter interpretation was proposed by Burman,11 who referred to a well-known text which Pliny the Elder devotes to a detailed description of truffles,12 saying, among other things, that they are completely buried in the earth.13 Perhaps for the reason just stated, Burman’s suggestion did not enjoy particular success. Only recently was it taken up by Courtney,14 Hendry,15 and Connors.16 Probably, also Bracht Branham and Kinney refer to a truffle in their translation quoted above, when they use the English word “tuber” to render Petronius’ identical word. There would be, indeed, a strong argument in favor of 5 6

    7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

    346

    E.g. Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 101; Ciaffi 19672, 275; Canali 1990, 189; Aragosti 1995, 415; Reverdito 1995, 191; Scarsi 1996, 167. E.g. Busche 1911, 456; Stubbe 1933, 174; Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 239; Habermehl 2006, 476-477. According to Habermehl Petronius used an expression meaning “truffle”, though intending to refer to a different mushroom. Of course he is not able to adduce any parallel supporting this bizarre interpretation. This approach amounts to an involuntary demonstration that the horti tuber can be neither a mushroom nor a truffle. E.g. Heseltine 1913, 227; Walsh 1996, 100. E.g. Ernout, 1923, 119. This is what Hermeros tells Encolpius: Petr. 38.4 ecce intra hos dies scripsit, ut illi ex India semen boletorum mitteretur. Petr. 38.1 omnia domi nascuntur: lana, citrea, piper; lacte gallinaceum si quaesieris, invenies. Burman I, 1743, 653. Plin. NH 19.33-37. Pliny is clearly drawing on Theophrastus (cf. Theophr. fr. 400A Fortenbaugh = Athen. 62A-C). Plin. NH 19.33 tubera haec vocantur undique terra circumdata. Courtney 1991, 29. Hendry 1993, who accepts the correction of unda to umbra at line 10 suggested by Busche 1911, 456 (see below). Connors 1998, 66-67. Lastly see Vannini 2010, 226-227.

    Vegetables and Bald Heads (Petr. 109.10.3-4) this interpretation, though none of its advocates, as far as I know, has had recourse to it. We may remember that in the Cena Hermeros disparagingly calls Giton a cepa cirrata, a “curly onion”.17 The onion has, in fact, stringy roots which resemble hair. Having now lost his hair, Giton could indeed be aptly compared with a truffle, which, as Pliny says, has no fibers or filaments – but he uses a word, capillamenta, which can easily remind of hair.18 However, the contrary arguments are more obvious and weightier: truffles cannot of course be grown in vegetable gardens, as Pliny remarks in the same context,19 and are anything but smooth as a bald head or the other object the latter is compared to, namely polished metal.20 Burman saw in the mention of unda, water, a support to his interpretation, since Pliny says that truffles grow in the season of thunderstorms and also refers to a belief according to which their spores are disseminated by floods;21 and Courtney, just like Bracht Branham and Kinney, takes Petronius’ unda to refer to rain, as do many scholars who take the tuber to be a surface mushroom. However, unda can hardly be the equivalent of imber, as even Courtney cannot help admitting.22 This is so true that the correction of unda to umor (or umbra) has been proposed.23 As a matter of fact, in the few cases when unda is referred to rain it is used in the plural and is accompanied by some unequivocal determinative;24 not to mention that Pliny states that truffles prefer dry and sandy soil.25 Therefore, in my opinion, the interpretation of the rotundum horti tuber as a truffle does not withstand close examination either. Before going on, I would like to attach a brief catch to the file of this Plinybased interpretation of the tuber. It is somewhat surprising that no one, as far as I know, has recalled another passage in which Pliny uses exactly the same iunctura found in the Petronian passage. True, when he writes about truffles he uses the verb globare,26 to suggest a round shape, but it is only when treating another 17 18 19 20 21

    22 23 24 25 26

    Petr. 58.2. Plin. NH 19.33 nullisque fibris nixa aut saltem capillamentis. Plin. NH 19.35 quod certum est, ex his erunt, quae nascantur et seri non possint. These arguments are effectively exploited by Scarcia 1964, 116 n. 64; cf. also Sommariva 1985, 47. Plin. NH 19.37 cum fuerint imbres autumnales ac tonitrua crebra, tunc nasci… Mytilenis negant nasci nisi exundatione fluminum invecto semine. The belief that truffles are related with thunderbolts was widespread in antiquity. In Latin cf. e.g. Iuv. 5.116-118. Plutarch devotes one of his “table questions” to this belief (Plut. quaest. conv. 4.2.1-2). See Setaioli 2009. Courtney 1991, 29: “this unda on its own could only mean ground-water”. By Busche 1911, 456. Ov. met. 1.82 pluvialibus undis; 11.519 caelestibus undis; Colum. 10.420 caeli pendentibus undis. Cf. Sommariva 1985, 47 n. 13. Plin. NH 19.34 siccis haec fere et sabulosis locis frutectosisque nascuntur. Plin. NH 19.34 ea protinus globentur magnitudine; 35 in se globari. 347

    Appendix I plant, namely the birthwort, or aristolochia, that he mentions tubera rotunda attached to the roots.27 The tubera of the birthwort, of course, are also subterranean, like the truffle, and can hardly help us identify Petronius’ horti tuber. But does the noun always refer to something growing underground? True, sometimes just the simple word tuber is used to indicate an underground vegetable, but often, when this is the case, it is accompanied by the genitive terrae. Terrae tuber or tuber terrae is almost invariably the truffle, though Pliny uses the expression to refer to the cyclamen bulb:28 it is the truffle, for instance, in Juvenal,29 Martial,30 and in Petronius himself.31 And the Italian word for truffle, “tartufo”, descends from a Latin rustic form, *territufer, equivalent to the classic terrae tuber.32 Can Petronius’ mention of the terrae tuber help us determine the nature of the horti tuber in our passage? In both cases the character addressed is Giton (in the first alone, in the second possibly with Encolpius). In the Cena Hermeros abuses him with these words: videbo te in publicum, mus, immo terrae tuber: “I’ll wait for you outside, you rat, or rather truffle”. As the Oxford Latin Dictionary notes, this refers contemptuously to someone who avoids the light of day: a mouse or a rat has its nest underground, as stressed by Horace, when he says that from the labor of the mountains a paltry mouse will be born;33 immo marks a further abusive progression: Giton is worse than a mouse; he is rather comparable to a terrae tuber, which never comes out of the ground: there is no doubt that Hermeros is referring to a truffle, though Smith, in his commentary to the Cena, takes these words to refer to “a toadstool or mushroom”,34 that is to something growing above the surface of the earth. It should also be noted that, shortly after, Hermeros threatens to do away with Giton’s “twopence mop”, as he calls it.35 But does this unequivocally link bald heads to truffles? Interestingly enough, tubera and bald heads had already been placed side by side earlier in the Satyrica. When our heroes are trying to sell a cloak they have stolen, one of the brokers that volunteer as guarantors is described as calvus tuberosissimae frontis, “a bald-headed man with a forehead full of warts or 27

    28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35

    348

    Plin. NH 25.95 nostri malum terrae vocant et quattuor genera eius (aristolochiae) servant: unum tuberibus radicis rotundis, foliis inter malvam ef hederam, nigrioribus mollioribusque etc. Plin. NH 25.115 a nostris tuber terrae vocatur (radix cyclamini); cf. malum terrae in the preceding note. Iuv. 14.7 tubera terrae. Tuber alone is found at 5.116 and 119. Mart. 13.50 (title) terrae tubera. Petr. 58.4 terrae tuber. Cf. Devoto 19682, 424. Hor. ars 139 parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Smith 1975, 161. Petr. 58.5 curabo, longe tibi sit comula ista besalis. See ch. XII, text to notes 56-57.

    Vegetables and Bald Heads (Petr. 109.10.3-4) boils”.36 This reminds us of the fact that tuber can refer to anything bulging or swelling, such as bumps protruding from a surface – in this case a man’s forehead. The word is probably related to the root of the verb tumere, as generally recognized by linguists,37 and as the ancients already realized, if we can trust the testimony of Isidore of Seville.38 2. No doubt our poem’s rotundum horti tuber must be some sort of vegetable. In the vegetable realm we have already found that the word tuber can refer to selfstanding underground “bulges” or “swellings”: the truffle, but also the roots of the birthwort and the cyclamen. In Pliny it is also found, however, in reference to “bulges” or “swellings” attached to a larger surface, namely burls protruding from the trunk of trees growing above the ground, such as the alder, the citrus, and the maple.39 But can tuber denote a self-standing vegetable – like the truffle and the undergroung bulbs just mentioned –, but growing on the surface and therefore visible, like the burls of a tree? The answer to this question is pivotal for the evaluation of the third interpretation proposed for the horti tuber of our poem – an interpretation that has been defended by two Italian scholars, Riccardo Scarcia40 and Grazia Sommariva,41 and, if at all linguistically possible, would solve many of the difficulties posed by this passage, as even Courtney is ready to admit.42 Scarcia and Sommariva take the rotundum horti tuber to be the gourd. They had been preceded, at the end of the nineteenth century, by Collignon, who, in one of the appendixes of his epoch-making book on Petronius,43 paired our Petronian passage with an expression used by one of Psyche’s sisters complaining about her husband in the well-known story told in the Metamorphoses by Apuleius: cucurbita calviorem, “balder than a gourd”.44 This is taken to be a proverbial expression by Otto:45 “kahler als ein Kürbis”. This passage is quoted

    36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

    45

    Petr. 15.4. Walde-Hofmann II, 712-713; Ernout-Meillet II, 705: “on pense au radical de tumeo; mais la formation n’est pas claire”. Isid. orig. 17.1019 tuberum tumor terrae prodit; eaque causa nomen illi dedit. Plin. NH 16.231 dat et alnus, ut dictum est, tuber sectile, sicut citrum acerque. Nec aliarum tuber iam in pretio. Cf. also 16.68-69. Scarcia 1964, 116-117 n. 64. Sommariva 1985. Courtney 1991, 29. Collignon 1892, 390 (in the third Appendice: Rapprochements entre Pétrone et Apulée, pp. 388-390). Apul. met. 5.9 at ego misera primum patre meo seniorem maritum sortita sum, dein cucurbita calviorem et quovis puero pusilliorem, cunctam domum seris et catenis obditam custodientem. Otto 1890, 100, s.v. cucurbita. 349

    Appendix I in a modified form by Fulgentius in his Expositio sermonum antiquorum,46 and his text has found its way into some inferior Apuleian manuscripts too.47 Based on his different readings (one of which is cucurbita glabriorem instead of calviorem), Fulgentius interprets the passage as an allusion to sexual impotence, and is followed by Scarcia,48 who, throughout his whole essay, which deals primarily with the interpretation of the title of Seneca’s Apocolocyntosis, suggests an obscene meaning beneath almost any mention of the gourd – cucurbita – in Roman writers. Here he takes cucurbita to be the equivalent of a eunuch, a cinaedus, or an impotent person, and understands cucurbita glabriorem as “feebler than a eunuch”. As can be seen, he attributes to Apuleius a meaning based on the text of Fulgentius. However, Fulgentius’ readings are universally held to be unreliable,49 and the obvious meaning of Apuleius’ expression (cucurbita calviorem) is indeed “balder than a gourd”.50 Scarcia understands cucurbita in the same sense of cinaedus in an earlier Petronian passage, which can throw a great deal of light on the expression used in our poem. When Trimalchio gives the horoscope suiting each of the constellations of his Zodiac dish, he says that under Aquarius innkeepers and gourds are born: in Aquario copones and cucurbitae.51 Like in his interpretation of the Apuleian passage, Scarcia takes Trimalchio’s cucurbitae to be the equivalent of cinaedi.52 But, just like in the interpretation of the Apuleian passage he attributes to Apuleius a meaning based on Fulgentius’ text, so here too he moves from a false starting point, namely that each of Trimalchio’s horoscopes must unconditionally refer to human beings,53 whereas a look at the text shows that twohorse-chariots, oxen, and testicles are mentioned by him under Gemini.54 Some sholars have thought that Trimalchio’s cucurbitae may stand for another cate46

    47 48 49 50

    51 52 53

    54

    350

    Fulg. serm. antiq. 17, pp. 116, 21 - 117, 4 Helm quid sit pumilior, quid sit glabrior. Apuleius in asino aureo inducit sorores Psicae maritis detrahentis; dicit: ‘quovis puero pumiliorem et cucurbita glabriorem’; pumilios enim dicunt molles atque enerves, glabrum vero lenem et imberbem. See Pizzani 1968, 32, 113-115. Cf. Scarcia 1964, 113 n. 60; Pizzani 1968, 114. Scarcia 1964, 112-117. Cf. e.g. Purser 1910, 33; Fernhout 1949, 66. Todd 1943, 101-103 argues that cucurbita is referred to a bald head not just here, but also in another Apuleian passage (met. 1.15) and in Petr. 39.12, for which see below; but he is far from convincing as far as the latter two texts are concerned. Cf. also Scobie 1975, 112. For the possibility that baldness, as well as stupidity, be implied at Apul. met. 1.15 see below, text to note 60. Petr. 39.12. For the whole chapter see de Vreese 1927. Scarcia 1964, 98-109. Scarcia 1964, 98: “Cucurbita deve indubbiamente alludere a uomini; lo esige… l’andamento intero dell’oroscopo, che esclude riferimenti a cose naturali (piante o animali che siano…)”. Petr. 39.7 in Geminis autem nascuntur bigae et boves et colei.

    Vegetables and Bald Heads (Petr. 109.10.3-4) gory of human beings, namely blockheads or idiots.55 This seems to be supported by another passage in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses, where a character says: nos cucurbitae caput non habemus, “we do not have the head of a gourd”, or a gourd instead of a head.56 This again is taken to be a proverb by Otto,57 though Scarcia denies that any such proverb exists in Latin.58 However, it surely exists in Italian, where a blockhead is often familiarly referred to as “zuccone”, literally a big gourd or pumpkin, and sometimes simply as “zucca”, a gourd.59 On the other hand, baldness (as well as stupidity) may be implied by the reference to a gourd in the present Apuleian passage too, if the character who speaks these words, a ianitor, is to be associated with the mimic type of the “bald-headed fool” ( ), as suggested by Keulen.60 Another possible interpretation of Trimalchio’s cucurbitae could be “cupping glasses”, for bleeding, a meaning often attested in medical writers and elsewhere.61 Bleeding is indeed associated with Aquarius in an astrological text,62 but along with other Zodiacal signs. It is however the most obvious meaning of the word, “gourds” or “pumpkins”, that suits the context best. Under Aquarius Trimalchio places innkeepers, who proverbially mix water with their wine, as testified by an inscription, Martial, and other texts.63 This is obviously a joke, but it is in line with the astrologers’ tendency to associate with each constellation something reminiscent of it: in the case of Aquarius things somehow related to water. Now, Gargilius Martialis (III century A.D.), in his book on medicines made from vegetables and fruits, tells us that, according to physicians, the gourd is nothing but curdled water: aquam coagulatam.64 He refers to Galen, who does indeed exhibit a text

    55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64

    E.g. Smith 1975, 71; Keulen 2003, 270 (“nincompoop”). Apul. 1.15. Otto 1990, 100, s.v. cucurbita (1). Cf. Keulen 2003, 270. Scarcia 1964, 110-112. Cf. also Todd 1943, 103. Needless to say, Scarcia sees an obscene meaning here too. If the head is referred to, in Italian a blockhead would be a “testa di rapa” (“turniphead”) rather than “testa di zucca”. Keulen 2003, 339 (Appendix. “The figure of the ianitor”, pp. 339-341); cf. Panayotakis 1995, xvii-xviii, 141. Cf. TLL IV 1284, 22-40. CCAG V 3, p. 93, 10-12. Cf. CE 930 talia te fallant utinam mendacia copo: / tu vendes acuam et bibes ipse merum; Mart. 1.56; cf. 3.56 and 57. For these and other texts see Citroni 1975, 190. Garg. Mart. med. ex oler. et pom. 6, p. 140, 6-9 Rose = 6.1-3, p. 9 Maire veteres medici de cucurbita ita senserunt, ut eam aquam dicerent coagulatam. Galenus umidae putat virtutis et frigidae, idque ex eo probat quod in cibo sumpta... bibendi desideria non excitat. 351

    Appendix I agreeing with what Gargilius attributes to him;65 and the watery nature of the gourd is confirmed by other ancient writers.66 As already hinted, things related to water are regularly associated with Aquarius by astrological writers: we may refer to a passage in the fourth book of Manilius67 and to an extended text by Firmicus Maternus,68 where those born under Aquarius are associated with death in or because of water (shipwreck and dropsy)69 and even more often with trades and occupations having to do with water.70 Among these, the trade of hortulanus, someone tending a vegetable garden, is mentioned twice. If we recall our Petronian poem, we will immediately realize that the expression horti tuber amounts to an association of the tuber with the hortulani; these in turn are associated with Aquarius by Firmicus Maternus; and, finally, this constellation is associated with gourds by Trimalchio in his astrological dissertation. Thus the circle (tuber-vegetable gardenhortulani-Aquarius-gourd) is closed and the logical identity of the horti tuber with the gourd is demonstrated. The passage of Gargilius Martialis explains the text of the Petronian poem much better than a riddle by Symphosius on the gourd, which is adduced by Sommariva.71 Symphosius’ gourd says: nutrior undis, “I am fed by water”. This could be said by almost any vegetable; but Eumolpus says quod creavit unda: his horti tuber is “generated by water”, not merely fed by it. These words can only be explained by the text of Gargilius Martialis, not by the riddle of Symphosius, nor by Pliny, who says that gourds like irrigation and manure.72 In other

    65 66

    67 68 69 70

    71

    72

    352

    Galen. simpl. med. temp. ac fac. 7, XII, pp. 33-34 Kühn ... E.g. AP 9.532.2 ; Plin. NH 19.186 aquatiles cucumeris, cucurbitae, lactucae (i.e. cucumbers, gourds, and lettuce have a watery taste). It is perhaps worth noting that in comedy a discussion about the nature of the gourd ( : the Attic form has the ) is reported in jest as being held in the school of Plato himself: Epicrates fr. 11 Kock (CAF II 1, pp. 287-288) = 10 KasselAustin (PCG V, pp. 161-162). Cf. Helm 1906, 378. Manil. 4.259-272. Firm. Mat. math. 8.29. Shipwreck: Firm. Mat. math. 8.29.1, 5, 14; dropsy: Firm. Mat. math. 8.29.8. Firm. Mat. math. 8.29.4 aquam haurientes; 5 balneatores; 6 piscator; hortulani; balneatores; haustores aquarum; urinatores vel nautas; in humidis vel in aquosis viventes locis; 10 ex cultura terrae habebunt vitae subsidia; 12 grande pelagus transibunt; 14 hortulanus. Sommariva 1985, 49-50. She refers to Symphos. 43 (Cucurbita: AL 286.144-146, p. 232 Riese2 = p. 215 Shackleton Bailey; I give the latter’s text): pendeo, dum nascor; rursus, dum pendeo cresco. / Pendens commoveor ventis et nutrior undis. / Pendula si non sim, non sum iam iamque futura. Plin. NH 19.69 amant rigua et fimum, quoted by Todd 1943, 101, and Sommariva 1985, 50.

    Vegetables and Bald Heads (Petr. 109.10.3-4) words, the unda in this poem is not simply irrigation water,73 though this too is of course envisaged, but water as an element, which becomes a gourd in one of its allotropic forms, so to speak. We have said that the logical identity of the horti tuber with the gourd is demonstrated by the synoptic reading of the texts we have placed side by side. But is this logical identity borne out by the linguistic documentation? Tuber never seems to be referred to self-standing fruits growing on the surface of the earth. Here, however, we may be helped by what my former university companion Maria Gabriella Ferrari has to say about a well-known expression we find in another work by Apuleius, the Florida: ubi uber, ibi tuber.74 As used by Apuleius, it is surely equivalent to our “there are no roses without thorns”.75 But as Ferrari adroitly observes, this must have originally been a farmers’ saying meaning “plants – or rather, fruits – grow where the soil is fertile”. As is well-known, uber can be either a breast or fertile soil. In this way it is possible to recover an early meaning of tuber: a bulging or swelling fruit, not necessarily attached to something larger. As Ferrari remarks, Apuleius could change the original meaning of the proverb because tuber – a bulging or a swelling – could also have a negative meaning; though she does not elaborate, we may call attention to the fact that a tuber could be, for example, a pimple, a boil, a wart, a bump, a hunched back and other undesirable outgrowths – we recall Petronius’ calvus tuberosissimae frontis (15.4) we have mentioned before –, or a tumor growing inside. Hence, I would also add, tuber was used to describe an outgrowth or a swelling attached to something larger, in the manner of the unhealthy ones of the human body, for example the hump of a camel or the burl of a tree; but it could also describe a vegetable that – like an inner tumor swelling in the human body – does not emerge to become visible: the roots of the birthwort and the cyclamen, or the truffle. The negative meaning behind this usage is still quite evident in Pliny, who calls the truffles (tubera) a “fault of the earth” (vitium terrae), adding that it is not possible to conceive of them otherwise (neque enim aliud in-

    73

    74

    75

    This is how Sommariva 1985, 50 interprets the word. We have said that, by itself, unda can hardly refer to rain, but we should add that, besides water flowing on the surface, it can also denote the aquifer or water-table, which can also be used for irrigation: cf. Manil. 4.261 cernere sub terris undas, inducere terris. Apul. flor. 18. Cf. Ferrari 1969, 151-152. For the sound effect of this and other Apuleian expressions Facchini Tosi 1986, 160-161. Nothing of consequence, for our purpose, in Hunink 2001, 185. Lastly, the reference to this Apuleian passage is judged to be “fuorviante” (misleading) by Vannini 2010, 227, who however fails to support his view by at least attempting to refute the points made here. See Ferrari 1969, 151-152 for the dispute between Wölfflin and Otto on Apuleius’ meaning. 353

    Appendix I tellegi potest).76 Shortly before he had referred to them as the calluses of the earth.77 If this is so, in Eumolpus’ poem we have a survival of the original meaning of tuber: anything that grows and swells, attached or not to something larger, which can be either undesirable or desirable – witness the sinus tuberans, the swelling bosom, of Apuleius’ Photis in the Metamorphoses.78 Here tubera and ubera (“breasts”) coincide, proving that in the saying ubi uber, ibi tuber the original meaning of the latter word was far from being necessarily negative. Now, for the farmer a desirable swelling would refer especially to growing crops. From this point of view – in reference to a bulging or swelling in a positive sense, and, from the farmer’s standpoint, not necessarily attached to something larger – gourds, pumpkins, and related plants would naturally be foremost. We have seen that tuber is probably related to the root of tumeo; and a number of Latin writers do refer tumeo, tumesco, or tumidus to the cucurbita and related plants.79 With this, I think, the linguistic possibility that the words horti tuber may have been used by Eumolpus to refer to the gourd is demonstrated.80 One last point I would like to make is that the proverbial association of gourds or pumpkins with bald heads, which we have observed in the words of Psyche’s sister in Apuleius, cucurbita calviorem,81 has survived in Italian. The expression “zucca pelata”, literally “plucked gourd”, is common in colloquial speech. It would not meam much in and by itself, since the word “zucca” alone can be used to mean a head, either hairy or bald, at least since Dante,82 but it should be paired with another common turn: “pelato come una zucca” – “as bald (literally ‘plucked’) as a gourd”. So a nursery rhyme that I, as a child, used to recite, in a sing-song voice, for a bald-headed uncle, might be quoted to reinforce the points already made: “Plucked gourd of the seven hairs, all night long crickets sing for you – ad then they serenade you, plucked gourd, plucked gourd”; or, in Italian:

    76

    77 78 79 80 81 82

    354

    Plin. NH 19.34 crescant anne vitium id terrae – neque enim aliud intellegi potest – ea protinus globetur magnitudine, qua futurum est, et vivat necne, non facile arbitror intellegi posse. Plin. NH 19.33 nec terram esse possimus dicere neque aliud quam terrae callum. Apul. met. 2.16 Photis mea… laeta proximat rosa serta et rosa soluta in sinu tuberante. Cf. e.g. Colum. 10.394 (cucurbita) nimium quae vasta tumescit; Prop. 4.2.23 tumidoque cucurbita ventre; cf. moretum 78; Colum. 10.380; Verg. georg. 4.122. Landolfi, forthcoming 13 now agrees. Apul. met. 5.9. Cf. above, note 44. Dante inf. 18.124-126 “ed elli allor, battendosi la zucca: / ‘Qua giù m’hanno sommerso le lusinghe / ond’io non ebbi mai la lingua stucca’”.

    Vegetables and Bald Heads (Petr. 109.10.3-4) “Zucca pelata dai sette capelli, tutta la notte ti cantano i grilli e poi ti fanno la serenata, zucca pelata, zucca pelata”.83

    83

    See Sommariva 1985, 49 n. 23 for references to similar rhymes. 355

    Appendix II Magic at Petr. 131.4-6* 131.4 Illa de sinu licium protulit varii coloris filis intortum cervicemque vinxit meam. Mox turbatum sputo pulverem medio sustulit digito frontemque repugnantis signavit . 5 Hoc peracto carmine ter me iussit expuere terque lapillos conicere in sinum, quos ipsa praecantatos purpura involverat, admotisque manibus temptare coepit inguinum vires. 6 Dicto citius nervi paruerunt manusque aniculae ingenti motu repleverunt. L(=lrtp) 131.4 lacunam ind. Boschius

    1. Encolpius, affected by an impotence who prevents him from bringing his love for the beautiful Circe to fruition, after attempting some medical cures based on diet and sexual abstinence,1 undergoes a first session of magical therapy; as a matter of fact both he and the slave girl Chrysis had blamed his plight on a spell, and Chrysis had promised that it would be taken care of.2 The magical treatment falls into three different stages. At first the sorceress, whose name, as we shall learn later, is Proselenos,3 performs some magical acts upon a totally passive Encolpius; then she utters a spell, unfortunately swallowed up by a lacuna at the end of paragraph 4;4 finally she asks for Encolpius’ cooperation. After all this,

    * 1 2

    3 4

    A version of this appendix has appeared with the title La scena di magia in Petr. Sat. 131.4-6, “Prometheus” 26, 2000, 159-172. Cf. Petr. 130.7-8. Petr. 128.2 veneficio contactus sum; 129.10 ‘solent’ inquit ‘haec fieri, et praecipue in hac civitate, in qua mulieres etiam lunam deducunt . 11 itaque huius quoque rei cura agetur’. Rimell 2002, 143 wrongly ascribes this magic procedure to Oenothea. Bücheler 1862 181 rejects Bosch’s attempt to fill the lacuna – obvious, though not marked in the tradition – with the final verses (9-10) of Priap. 80. Ciaffi 1955, 110 proposes filling it up with the verse 2857 of Petr. fr. 20 Müller (iuverunt segetes meum la-

    Appendix II she is able to check with her own hands the success of her therapy – a success that will soon be exposed as temporary and deceptive. We shall begin by analyzing the second act performed by Proselenos in the first stage, which is the most suited to illustrate the character of the whole ceremony and at the same time will allow us to call attention to a parallel which cannot but appear amazing at first glance. 2. Ilaria Ramelli thinks that various passages of the Satyrica were meant by Petronius as a parody of as many passages from the Gospels.5 After Ramelli, Giuseppe Gamba has put forward a daring (or should we say reckless?) interpretation of the Satyrica as the encoded autobiography of a Petronius who first had become a Christian convert and then apostatized – allegedly as Nero himself.6 It is hardly worthwhile to dwell on Gamba’s book, except to remark that among the countless, and all more or less unwarranted, contacts he proposes between Petronius and the Christian texts, the one that at first glance seems to be the least unjustified is missing. Neither he nor Ramelli associate the passage we have transcribed at the beginning with John’s narration of the blind man’s healing by Jesus.7 This Christian text offers a perfect correspondence with the second deed performed by Proselenos: like Petronius’ sorceress,8 Jesus spits on the ground and spreads the mud thus formed on the person to be healed.9 In spite of this ob-

    5

    6 7 8 9

    358

    borem) or with Petr. fr. 35 Müller. These proposals are rightly rejected by Aragosti 1995, 492 n. 386. Ramelli 1996. In the first place Ramelli accepts the association already proposed by Preuschen (cf. the references in Ramelli 1996, 76 n. 6) of Petr. 77.7 and 78.3-4 with Mc. 14.3 and 8, asserting that Trimalchio’s anointing the banqueters with nard oil mockingly hints at Jesus being anointed at Bethany in Mark’s version (p. 77). She further believes the rooster crowing at Petr. 74.1-3 to be a hint at the rooster’s crowing marking Peter’s denial of Christ at Mc. 14.39, 68, 72 (p. 79). Eumolpus’ will, at the end of the preserved part, is seen by Ramelli as a sacrilegious allusion to Eucharist (p. 80). The removal of the crucified man’s body in the story of the widow of Ephesus is interpreted by Ramelli as a mocking reference to Christ’s resurrection (p. 80 and n. 21). Ramelli has further elaborated on Petronius’ alleged hints at Christ and the Christians in Ramelli 2001, 163192. Gamba 1998. Justified reservations in Ramelli 1999. Although Gamba believes Petronius to have been well acquainted with John’s Gospel, which he thinks to have been written at an earlier date than commonly assumed. Cesareo-Terzaghi 1950, 134 are mistaken when they take pulverem to indicate not dust but a magical powder (“intridendo di sputo una polverina”). Ioh. 9.6 . For this miracle see van der Loos 1965, 425-434. The connection of this miracle with that of the birds made of mud coming to life in the apocryphal “childhood Gospels” is proved by the common theme of the violation of the Sabbath rest (cf. Ioh. 9.14-16). In the “childhood Gospels” mud is not kneaded with spittle, but in the majority of versions it is still artificially produced by Jesus. See Moraldi 1971, 226, 253, 262, 267, 276, 303, 308.

    Magic at Petr. 131.4-6 vious similarity, however, this passage of John is hardly ever referred to by Petronian scholars.10 This parallel all the more deserves being emphasized inasmuch as it is difficult to point out a more fitting one, both in literary and in specifically magical pagan texts. The closest one can undoubtedly be found in Persius,11 where three of Petronius’ elements appear: saliva, the sign traced on the forehead, the middle finger. The power folklore ascribes to saliva is well-known, and we shall return to it more in detail; but what is missing in Persius is the kneading of earth with spittle, which appears in John and Petronius. The comparison with Persius enables us to realize that Proselenos’ act is part of a ritual aiming to avert the evil eye, which can imperil not merely sexual potency, but any faculty, and life itself. The apotropaic character of the ritual is emphasized by the role allotted in both authors to the middle finger, notoriously regarded as a phallic symbol;12 it should also be noted that this text from Persius, as well as the majority of those that can in some way be associated with our Petronian passage, refer to the protection of infants, i.e. of the beings more exposed to the evil eye and baleful influences. This is the case, for instance, in a scholium by Ps. Acro, in which saliva is once more applied to the patient’s forehead.13 10

    11

    12 13

    The association of John’s and Petronius’ passages is not common among the students of early Christianity either. It is found, e.g., in Bauer 19252, 129. Cabaniss 1954 only pointed out the similarities between the widow of Ephesus story and Christ’s crucifixion without proceeding any farther. He was less cautious later on (Cabaniss 1960), assuming several further parallels between Petronius and the New Testament (including the one concerning the rooster, also noted by Ramelli) and taking it for granted that Petronius was acquainted with oral reports concerning Christianity. The only acceptable parallel pointed out by Cabaniss concerns precisely Petr. 131.4 and Ioh. 9.6 (p. 39), although he dismisses it too lightly (“this, of course, is a folk-pattern that can be frequently discovered”: a statement far from being true, as we shall see: Muth 1954, 101 n. 1 can only quote our Petronian text as a parallel to John’s). The treatment by Luck 1997 is disappointing. He includes our Petronian passages (no. 12, pp. 150-153), but in the commentary (pp. 488-489) not only does he miss the parallel with John’s Gospel, but also fails to recognize the allusion to Aphrodite’s (see below) and the apotropaic significance of the middle finger. There is more: he takes it for granted that Proselenos’ cure succeeds, and even confuses Circe with Chrysis. Pers. 2.31-34 ecce avia aut metuens divum matertera cunis / exemit puerum, frontemque atque uda labella / infami digito et lustralibus ante salivis / expiat, urentis oculos inhibere perita. Cf. Jahn 1855, 83-86. For this reason the middle finger was called infamis: Sittl 1890, 123: Kuhnert 1909, 2010; Kötting 1954, 479; Muth 1954, 56 and n. 3; Kissel 1990, 326. Ps. Acro ad Hor. epod. 8.18 (I, p. 408, 9-10 Keller) lingua enim detersa fronte mulieres amputare se infantibus fascinum putant. A similar gesture (the tongue passed on the forehead) is found in an unpublished text by Basil (pointed out by Sittl 1890, 120 n. 10; Muth 1954, 58-59 and n. 1; Kissel 1990, 325) 359

    Appendix II The same applies to a passage in which John Chrysostom testifies to a custom nurses and maidservants still practiced in his time, which consisted in passing a finger on infants’ foreheads to trace a sign with mud in order to avert the evil eye.14 Once more, we are very close to Petronius, but what is missing here is spittle, with which mud is produced in him and in John’s Gospel. Therefore, although mud too, like saliva, was widely used not merely in magic,15 but even in medicine,16 we cannot help emphasizing that, to the best of our knowledge, only in John and Petronius do these two therapeutic media – spittle and mud, which are always separate and distinct elsewhere – appear to converge. With this, however, we are far from assuming, or even from regarding as probable, a direct contact between the two texts – or rather, given that John’s Gospel probably did not exist yet in Petronius’ time, between the Satyrica and a preliterary version of Jesus’ miracle. An archaic element in the latter has been assumed precisely in the mention of saliva, a well-known vehicle of life power in foklore.17 A miracle similar to Jesus’ was also attributed to the emperor Vespasian.18 The latter, however, employed only saliva, like Jesus himself according to a different tradition attested by Mark’s Gospel.19 As we have remarked, Petronius’ text certainly supposes a ritual meant to avert the evil eye, whereas John’s describes a healing; but procedures could be similar in the two cases.20 What should retain our attention is the function of John’s special mention of mud formed with Jesus’ saliva. The latter, a common ingredient in magic, becomes here the divine element bestowing power and effectiveness on the mixture. It is not by chance that since a comparatively early 14

    Ioann. Chrysost. hom. in epist. I ad Cor. 12.7 (PG 61, 106) ! " # $ % . Cf. Jahn 1855, 82; Sittl 1890, 120; Kuhnert 1909, 2013; Kissel 1990, 322

    15

    16

    17 18

    19 20

    360

    n. 64. Cf. PGM 2, 150-153 (2, p. 28 Preisendanz), and especially 36, 138-139 (II, p. 167), where the daimons evoked in a love spell spread their face with mud:

    . Cf. Betz 19922, 17 and 272 respectively. Cf. Bernard 1928, 327; Rengstorf, 1975, 176 and n. 8, 177-178 and n. 17. Ael. Arist. 48.74-77 describes a healing ritual inspired by Asclepius himself, consisting in spreading mud on the body and plunging into the holy spring. The healed blind man cured by Jesus must also cleanse himself in the pool at Siloam (Ioh. 9.7). E.g. by Schnackenburg 1977, 410. According to Bernard 1928, 327 Jesus adjusted himself to a current popular belief. Tac. hist. 4.81.2; Suet. Vesp. 7. See also the references in Muth 1954, 103-104; Kissel 1990, 323. For this and other miraculous healings of blindness in paganism see van der Loos 1965, 415-416. Mc. 8.23 . For this miracle see van der Loos 1965, 419-422. Jesus employs saliva alone to heal a deaf-and-dumb man too: Mc. 7.33. As remarked by Sittl 1890, 119, in relation to saliva.

    Magic at Petr. 131.4-6 Christian writer, Irenaeus,21 this miracle performed by Jesus was associated with God’s creation of man from mud imbued with life through his breath, as told in Genesis. This exegesis correctly grasps this miracle’s organic relation to previous scriptural tradition, which the Gospel writer very probably meant to emphasize. On the one hand this must make us wary about assuming that a version of the miracle exactly as recorded by John existed before the writing of his Gospel; on the other hand, however, it confirms that the simultaneous and concurring employment of mud and saliva does not mirror current practices but amounts to a distinctive trait attributed to Jesus. This, if a possibility – however remote – of this version’s existence before John and Petronius is assumed, would allow us to regard as not a priori unacceptable the idea that its reappearance in the Satyrica – and only in the Satyrica, as far as we can see – may be meant as a parody of Jesus’ act. I do not intend to proceed any farther than simply pointing out this parallel between John and Petronius. Only to show how easy it is, once this road has been taken, to proceed with unchecked rashness – as clearly shown by Gamba’s book an to a much lesser extent by Ramelli’s works – will I take the liberty to devote a short paragraph to the consequences the admission that this Petronian text may in fact contain a parody of the “Christian oral tradition”22 could entail. Before proceeding, however, I wish to make it clear once more that I am far from taking it for granted that such a parody was actually intended by Petronius. 3. As we have seen, the sign traced by Proselenos on Encolpius’ forehead is not unparalleled in rituals against the evil eye. Yet, if we assume that testimonies appearing several decades later may already apply for Petronius’ time, one could call attention to the fact that about the mid II century A.D. the custom to trace the sign of the cross on their own and other people’s foreheads was already widespread among the Christians.23 This act was referred to in Latin simply with the verb signare,24 used by Petronius too in our passage; and like Proselenos’ 21

    22 23

    24

    Iren. adv. haer. 5.12.2 opera autem Dei plasmatio est hominis. Hanc enim per operationem fecit, quemadmodum scriptura ait: ‘et sumsit Dominus limum de terra, et plasmavit hominem’ (gen. 2.7). Quapropter et Dominus expuit in terram et fecit lutum, et superlinivit illud oculis; ostendes antiquam plasmationem quomodo facta est etc. For further instances of this exegesis see van der Loos 1965, 426 n. 5; Schnackenburg 1977, 410 n. 11. Cf also Muth 1954, 102 for different Christian interpretations of the miracle. According to the formula of Cabaniss 1960. This is the conclusion reached by Dölger 1958-1959 on the basis of an in-depth analysis of testimonies, in great part provided by Tertullian (the conclusions are at pp. 12-13). The sign of the cross was traced on the forehead (signaculum frontium). Cf. Dölger 1958, 13: “die Bekreuzung nannte man signatio, das Kreuzzeichen machen signare, das Kreuzzeichen über sich selber machen se signare”. See also Blaise 1954, s.v. signo (p. 759). Cf. s.v. signum 7 (p. 760). In Greek Christians expressed the same meaning through the simple verb & . It goes without saying that the presence 361

    Appendix II gesture, the sign of the cross was believed to have the power to protect from every evil influence.25 There is more: the comparison with a still later text, the homily by John Chrysostom already referred to, reveals that the superstitious custom to trace a sign on the forehead with mud was regarded by Christians as a counterfeiting of the sign of the cross.26 Of course the value of these parallels is drastically reduced by their chronological distance from Petronius. We should then be extremely cautious about the possibility that Petronius’ passage may indeed contain a parodical and desecrating allusion to the Christian custom – also in view of the existence of pagan parallels, although not equally close due to the lack of the mention of the forehead and the light difference in the verb used, as is the case with Pliny’s passage we have quoted in a footnote.27 If one wished to go on along this road, one might call attention to the fact that the episode of Encolpius’ impotence and his finally restored virility is expressly associated with a vicissitude of death and resurrection28 – a hardly surprising metaphor in a work in which sex is so central. I am not suggesting that we should read in Petronius a desecrating allusion to Christ’s resurrection, like the one Ramelli sees in the widow of Ephesus story.29 I only call attention to the fact that whereas the “resurrection” of Encolpius’ virility managed by Proselenos by resorting, among other devices, to an act resembling one performed by Jesus, turns out to be deceptive, his real and final “resurrection” is due to not better specified dii maiores. The comparative form might lead one to think of a comparison with less powerful gods, whose miracles turn out to be a fake.30

    25 26

    27 28

    29 30

    362

    of signare does not necessarily imply that Petronius is referring to the Christian custom; cf. e.g. Plin NH 28.36 incipientes furunculos ter praesignare ieiuna saliva. See the numerous testimonies collected by Sittl 1890, 127-128. Ioann. Chrysost. hom. in epist. 1 ad Cor. 12.7 (PG 61, 106) so inveighs against those who signed babies’ foreheads with mud: # $ … ' $ See above, note 24. Impotence is equated with death: Petr. 129.1 funerata est illa pars corporis, qua quondam Achilles eram; 129.6 iam peristi; 132.10 ut me in caelo positum ad inferos traheres. Cf. Zeitlin 1971a, 70-71. The recuperation of virility is naturally enough associated with a veritable resurrection (Bowersock 1994, 113: “resurrection becomes a metaphor for erection”), and Encolpius is able to declare (140.12) he has been brought back among the living by Mercury psychopomp and has received a greater honor than Protesilaus, the hero antonomastically associated with resurrection (the Protesilaus theme, which, to the state of our knowledge, receives this meaning for the first time in this Petronian text, enjoyed great popularity later on: see Bowersock 1994, 111-113). Cf. above, note 5. Petr. 140.12 dii maiores sunt qui me restituerunt integrum. González de Salas ap. Burman 1743, II, 288-289 already believed this to be an allusion to the twelve most important deities (Iuno Vesta Minerva Ceres Diana Venus Mars / Mercurius Iovis Neptunus Vulcanus Apollo, in two famous verses by Ennius). This is how the passage is under-

    Magic at Petr. 131.4-6 But it is time to leave this alluring but treacherous ground, to go back to the analysis of our Petronian episode. 4. The first magic act performed by Proselenus on Encolpius is introduced with an all but literal translation of a famous Homeric passage: the one in which Aphrodite takes off her love girdle, the , to hand it to Hera.31 There is no doubt that already in Homer this girdle is endowed with the power to seduce, and also to appease and reconcile.32 Later it became the very symbol of charm and amorous seduction.33 Later tradition, however, inclined to extend its influence to the whole cosmos, while retaining the double aspect of eroticism34 and pacification.35 There are no traces leading us to think that the Homeric may mirror the real use of a comparable object in the society of the time.36 At a later time, however, magicians appealed to literature and iconography for the preparation of magical objects which were identified with Aphrodite’s and were referred to by that name. As a consequence, literature too began to ascribe to the goddess’ girdle negative and undesirable seductive effects comparable to those of black magic.37

    31

    32

    33 34

    35

    36 37

    stood by most scholars. Cf. e.g. Ehlers ap. Müller-Ehlers 1983, 353: “die Götter höherer Ordnung sind es, die mich in den vorigen Stand wiedereingesetzt haben”. But sunt can hardly be interpreted this way; Walsh 1996 seems to be correct when he translates “there are gods with greater powers who have restored me to full health”. Cf. also Heseltine 1913: “but there are greater gods, who have restored me to my strength”. Hom. Il. 14.214-215 / ~ Petr. 131.4 de sinu licium protulit varii coloris filis intortum. The term was commonly understood as “embroidered”, “multicolored” (cf. Hom. ): see Sud. III, p. 102, 26 Adler . This correspondence is rightly emphasized by Roncali 1986, 110. See ch. XIV, note 17. Cf. Faraone 1990, 222 (Hera asks Aphrodite for her under pretext of attempting to settle the quarrel between Tethys and Oceanus, in reality to seduce Zeus). On the looks of the Homeric see also du Mesnil du Buisson 1947; Bonner 1949; Brenk 1977; Speyer 1983, 1241. See the numerous references in Speyer 1983, 1242. Cf. e.g. Nonn. Dionys. 32.5-8 / ' / ( ) # / * + Cf. e.g. Claudian. 10 (epith. dictum Honorio Aug. et Mariae).124-126 blando spirantem numine ceston / cingitur, impulsos pluviis quo mitigat amnes, / quo mare, quo ventos irataque fulmina solvit. This is the conclusion reached by Faraone 1990, 242. Cf. e.g. Val. Fl. 6.469-477 nec passa precari / ulterius dedit acre decus fecundaque monstris / cingula, non pietas quibus aut custodia famae, / non pudor, at contra levis et festina cupido / adfatusque mali dulcisque labantibus error / et metus et demens alieni cura pericli. / ‘Omne’ ait ‘imperium natorumque arma meorum / cuncta dedi, quascumque libet nunc concute mentes’. / Cingitur arcanis Saturnia laeta venenis / etc. 363

    Appendix II And a further evidence of the magical use in real life of an object identified with Aphrodite’s may be detected in an epic context in Nonnos’ Dionysiaca we have already quoted in a footnote, in which the use of Aphrodite’s girdle is coupled with the recourse to various magical stones worn by Hera in order to seduce Zeus.38 As a matter of fact, a work that can be dated in the first or second century A.D. but contains much older material, the , ,39 offers detailed instructions for the preparation of two distict magical objects40 that are both connected with Aphrodite; the first one is expressly identified with the goddess’ by referring to iconography,41 but the other one has obviously the same name, as proved by clear references in the text.42 The latter is not a love charm and reminds of the pacifying power of the Homeric : it grants honor and reverence to anyone wearing it.43 This second amulet contains, hidden from view,44 no less than thirteen magical stones,45 with or without an engraving. One engraved stone (obsidian) is also the most important component of the first amulet (the one expressly identified with the ),46 and it is also sewn inside so as not to be visible.47 This amulet has an undesirable effect, as we shall soon learn. 38

    39 40

    41

    42 43

    44 45 46

    47

    364

    See above, note 34. Hera does not wear Aphrodite’s only, but also a variety of stone amulets: selenite (vv. 22-23), magnetite (24), a (25-26), hyacinth (27). See the edition of Kaimakis 1976. Though preceding Kaimakis’ complete edition, Festugière 1950, 201-216 is still useful. These instructions appear in the first book (1.10.49-100 Kaimakis), presented as the summary of a work ascribed to a Persian king named Kyranos and of another one by Harpocration of Alexandria. It is comprised of 24 chapters, one for each letter of the Greek alphabet, each containing the treatment of the magical properties of a plant, a bird, a fish, and a stone which have a name beginning with that letter, and sometimes are completely homonymous. See Waegeman 1987 (pp. 185-221 for the commentary to 1.10.49-100 Kaimakis; cf. also McMahon 1998, 169-171). Kyran. 1.10.62-64 Kaimakis . / & ! 0 . Homer’s was worn by the goddess around her bosom, not around her head. But see below, text to notes 70-71. - : Kyran. 1.10.71, 74, 90, 91; : 1.10.89, 98. Kyran. 1.10.96-97 ' . For parallels in Greek and Oriental magic see Faraone 1990, 223-224. Kyran. 1.10.91-91, 98-99. For the importance of stones in magic see below, text to notes 65-67. This also contains a stone taken from the head of a fish called (Kyran. 1.10.57-58), which can be replaced with the root of the corresponding plant or the left wing of the corresponding bird (58-59). Kyran. 1.10.61-62 1 2 +

    Magic at Petr. 131.4-6 The Homeric scholiasts believed the to be decorated with figures representing the abstract concepts hinted at by Homer48 – an interpretation, incidentally, that Petronius does not accept, as proved by his hint at a yarn entwined with strands of different colors, implying that he understood Homer’s in the sense of “multicolored”, not of “ornamented with figures”.49 Be that as it may, in Homer the ideas connected with the are related to love and seduction; by contrast, the engravings on both sides of the obsidian enclosed in the as described in the , point in direct opposition: a castrated man on one side, Aphrodite turning her back to him on the other.50 Quite fittingly, this magic object makes any man touching it impotent.51 We are then in the sphere of amorous magic, but the effect is diametrically opposed to Homer’s. The comparison with this text sheds an unexpected new light on all of Proselenos’ magic operations52 and strongly supports the suspicions of those who believe that the ritual described by Petronius is purposely meant to fail.53 48

    49

    50

    Hom. Il. 14.216-217 2 1 608, 83-85 Erbse

    2 / # . Cf. Schol. A ad Il. 14.214, III, p. # . For the possibility that the might have been decorated with figures see Faraone 1990, 221. Cf. also Brenk 1977, 17, 19. He is influenced by current magical conceptions, emphasizing the importance of different colors (here varii coloris filis intortum): cf. Luck 1997, 488-489; cf. 462. See also below, note 64. Kyran. 1.10.53-57 1 1 /

    51 52

    53

    1

    + Kyran. 1.10.64-65

    3

    1 2

    . Cf. 49-52; 67-68. One might surmise that the licium varii coloris filis intortum Proselenos produces from her bosom, certainly to be associated with Homer’s , as proved by the almost literal correspondence, differs from the object described in the , , which refer to iconography and associate it with a diadem (cf. above, note 41). But in Petronius, in spite of the literal correspondence with Homer, Proselenos’ licium is wound around Encolpius’ neck, like the second amulet described in the , (1.10.95-96 . ). On the power of necklaces, comparable to that of the , cf. Faraone 1990, 222 (with a reference to Hesiod. op. 73-74). Besides, the correspondence with Encolpius’ use of magic stones concealed in a purple cloth (which he places in his bosom) makes it sure that Petronius, though literarily alluding to Homer’s , has the the magical object used in his time in mind. Panayotakis 1995, 173: “imaginative recipes, composed precisely to fail, rather than faithful representations of Roman magic techniques”; cf. McMahon 1998, 202: “their 365

    Appendix II Our Petronian text is the only one, outside the , , hinting at the actual use of an object identified with, or comparable to, Aphrodite’s for magic purposes connected with the erotic and sexual sphere; but the comparison with the technical work bears witness to the interference, in Petronius, of the literary suggestion of the Homeric model, which may have led him to associate, at least ostensibly and for the purpose of parody, an object that in contemporary reality was used to obtain the opposite effect by magicians, with the amorous power it possesses in Homer. This reversal concerns the “practical” level, and is matched, at the literary level, by the “degradation”54 of the Homeric model apparent in the transfer of the gesture of producing the from the bosom from Aphrodite to the old sorceress. Petronius bends to his own will and purposes the actual practices and beliefs of folklore as he does with the literary models. And if Proselenos, to restore Encolpius’ virility, resorts to a magical tool whose effect is the opposite of what is needed and requested – as confirmed by the narration following the temporary and deceptive success – no hope can be entertained that the mud kneaded with spittle and applied to Encolpius’ forehead will be any more successful. 5. After the intermezzo of the magic carmen unfortunately lost in the lacuna,55 Proselenos asks for the patient’s cooperation for a sort of triple, chiastic repetition of the acts just performed. There is no doubt, in fact, that Encolpius’ triple spitting corresponds to the sorceress’, with the identical function to avert the evil eye, and that the stones wrapped in purple amount to an updated counterpart of the , which in contemporary magic practice contained, as we saw, some stones concealed inside. Encolpius’ spitting is surely connected with the idea of the magic effectiveness ascribed to saliva as a vehicle of vital power we have already hinted at.56 Spitting frequently occurred in magic rituals, although it seems to be better attested in literature than in magical texts proper.57 The triple repetition of an act is very common in magic and is often attested in relation to spitting too.58 It should be emphasized that the closest parallel to our Petronian text as far as triple spitting is concerned is part of a magical ritual aimed at curing impotence found in a

    54 55 56

    57 58

    366

    depiction in the text, however, is more or less parodic”. By contrast, according to Weinreich 1909, 97 Petronius’ description mirrors authentic popular beliefs. To use Fedeli’s term (Fedeli 1988) Cf. above, text to note 4. See the texts collected by Jahn 1855, 85; Sittl 1890, 117-121; Riess 1893, 87-88; Kuhnert 1909, 2013; van der Loos 1965, 307-311; Degani 1983, 92; Kissel 1990, 325. The most systematic treatment is Muth 1954, 26-64, 82-117. In magical papyri it seems to appear only at PGM 3, 420 (I, p. 50 Preisendanz; cf. Betz 19922, 29). See however Muth 1954, 54 n. 2. E.g. Theocr. 6.39; Tibull. 1.2.56; Plin. NH 24.174; 25.167; 26.39; 28.36, 39. More texts in Sittl 1890, 117-118 and Muth 1954, passim.

    Magic at Petr. 131.4-6 Hipponax fragment whose affinity with Petronius has been recognized by several scholars.59 The later magic session, in which Encolpius, after Proselenos’ failure, commits himself to another sorceress, Oenothea, presents even closer parallels with another Hipponax fragment, to the point that scholars have assumed direct derivation.60 If we also take into account the fact that magical recipes against impotence known to us61 offer few correspondences with Petronius,62 the assumption will be confirmed that in the Latin writer the literary element is at least as important as his time’s actual magic practice, or even more so.63 Probably Encolpius does not spit in his own bosom, though this is a common act against the evil eye and could be repeated three times too.64 In his bosom he places (again for three times) the pebbles that Proselenos has wrapped in a purple cloth after uttering a magic spell over them. As already hinted, stones played an important role in magic,65 and we may confidently assume that their esoteric powers were surely not unknown to Petronius.66 Their effect depended on their intrinsic nature; or on the figures engraved on them, like in the obsidian concealed in the in the 59 60

    61

    62 63 64

    65

    66

    Hippon 78.15 Degani . See West 1974, 142-143; Degani 1983, 91; McMahon 1998, 27. Petr. 138.1-2 displays striking similarities to Hippon. 95 Degani; for details see West 1974, 144-145; Degani 1983, 103 (with references to previous bibliography); Henderson 19912, 22-23; McMahon 1998, 27-28. Latte 1928, 388 already stated: “nullus enim dubito quin Arbiter carmen nostrum ante oculos habuerit”. Cf. e.g. PGM 7, 182-185 (II, p. 8 Preisendanz; cf. Betz 19922, 120) [ ] [ ] 1 +4 [ ] 2 1 . For this text see Preisendanz 1913, 618. The only common ingredient is ground pepper (Petr. 138.1 minuto pipere); in addition, it is differently employed. Regardless of how close Hipponax was to actual magical practice, in Petronius’ time the Greek poet amounted to a literary rather than technical model. See the texts collected by Jahn 1855, 83; Sittl 1890, 120; Kuhnert 1909, 2012; Degani 1983, 92; Muth 1954, 42-47, 52-54 (including our Petronian passage); Kissel 1990, 325. Triple repetition e.g. in Theocr. 6.39; Ciris 371-373 (a scene in which bindings of different colors also appear; it is judged the closest parallel to Petronius by Ciaffi 19672, 330 n. 356). This act had given rise to proverbial expressions: see Otto 1890, 324. For Petr. 74.13 inflat se tamquam rana, et in sinum suum conspuit (non spuit Reiske) see, lastly, Aragosti 1995, 313 n. 219; Scarsi 1996, 106 n. 3; also Muth 1954, 46, 167. For stones and the three conditions for their magic effectiveness indicated above, in the text, see Hopfner 19742, 326-353: Hopfner 1926. Their importance in magic is well illustrated by the numerous references collected in the index of PGM (III, p. 131 Preisendanz, s.v. ). Petr. 88.3 Democritus… ne lapidum virgultorumque vis lateret, aetatem inter experimenta consumpsit. 367

    Appendix II , ; or – like here in Petronius – on a charm recited over them.67 For us, Petronius is the first author to employ the term with which this type of spell came to be currently indicated: his praecantatos is matched by later usage.68 If we remember that Proselenos, after bestowing magical power on these stones, wraps them in a purple cloth,69 which hides them from view, it will be clear that she contrives a technically updated version of the Homeric that had been evoked shortly before by the all but literal translation from the Iliad we have pointed out above. Like the in the , , Proselenos’ amulet containes some stones, which, like in the , , are hidden from view,70 to increase their power;71 but, like the Homeric , it is placed in the bosom, not around the head: a further sign of the conflation of literature and contemporary magical practice in this passage. The two deeds performed by Encolpius at the sorceress’ instigation, then, amount to a repetition of those she had previously performed, and can only increase the reader’s doubts as to their capability to restore Encolpius’ lost manliness.

    67 68

    69

    70 71

    368

    For this type of charms see Hopfner 1926, 759; Hopfner 19742, 341-342. E.g. Solin. 27.37 gemma… praecantationibus legitimis consecrata; and see TLL X 2, 394, 30-42. In Varro Men. 152 Bücheler praecantor (Scaliger’s conjecture) is read as precantur by Astbury 1985, 28. In Petronius the term also appears at 131.11 non praecantatis… osculis (“baisers exempts… de sortilège”: Ernout 1923, 158). Red color, in popular belief, reinforced the amulet’s power: cf. Eckstein-Waszink 1950, 405; Muth 1954, 94; and especially Weinreich 1909, 97-99, with many instances, including our Petronian text. In reality the mentioned in the , was to be prepared not with cloth but with a hawk’s entrails (Kyran. 1.10.60-61). But when, after a few lines, its dimensions are detailed (two inches wide and five spans long: Kyran. 1.10.60-61), it is clear that a cloth is envisaged. Besides, the obsidian must be sewn in it (Kyran. 1.10.61-62). Cf. above, text to notes 44-47. On this point see Waegeman 1987, 200.

    Appendix III Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal The Greek Novelists and Petronius* 1. Though many critics agree in judging Petronius’ Satyrica a work with no exact parallel in the whole literary tradition of antiquity,1 a great deal of work and ingenuity has been directed to ascertaining its relation to previous literature, and especially to that particular genre with which scholars tend to associate it, namely what we conventionally call the novel, though the ancients lacked a comprehensive term designating the writings we normally understand when we use that word. It is true that in the last several decades a number of felicitous papyrological finds have contributed to making the Satyrica appear less isolated in the panorama of what we refer to as ancient fiction. The fragments of a work like Lollianus’ Phoinikika,2 for example, not only provide us with a specimen of narrative quite different from the romances of idealized love which have been transmitted to us in their entirety by the manuscript tradition, but contain several situations paralleled in Petronius’ work: a sort of cultic orgy, ritual cannibalism (also present in Achilles Tatius),3 and even such minor details as painted faces.4 Another important find, the publication of the fragment of the so-called Iolaus, was actually hailed as the discovery of “A New Satyricon”, though with the

    * 1

    2 3 4

    A version of this appendix has appeared with the title L’amour romanesque entre idéal et parodie: les romaciers grecs et Pétrone, “Rursus”, N°. 4, mis en ligne le 1 février 2009 (http://revel.unice.fr/rursus/document.html?id=295). One may refer to Scobie 1969, 83 and Adamietz 1987, 330 as scholars stressing the uniqueness of Petronius’ work, though both end up emphasizing the influence of satire – especially Menippean satire. See them in Stephens-Winkler 1995, 314-357. A new fragment has since been discovered: POxy 4945. Ach. Tat. 3.15.6. Cf. e.g. Sandy 1979. We may add flatulences, if Lollian. B.1 verso 12 is indeed to be understood that way (cf. Petr. 117.12).

    Appendix III praiseworthy addition of a question mark.5 Not only does this fragment contain a narrative describing an ambiance and a situation which might remind one of the Satyrica, but it also features a metric speech in Sotadeans uttered by a character termed gallus, and therefore close enough to the cinaedus reciting Sotadeans in Petronius.6 Another fragment of a narrative including a metric section has since been published – the so-called Tinouphis –,7 but it is perhaps premature to explain the prosimetric form of the Satyrica as the legacy of a preexisting form of Greek fiction, with no connection with the tradition of Menippean satire acclimated at Rome by Varro a few generations earlier.8 Even before these recent discoveries there were clues for the existence of narratives quite different from the romances of idealized love; not merely the socalled “Milesian tales”, whose relation to what we call the novel is controversial, but the mention of the Rhodiaka by Philip of Amphipolis, in the Suda,9 as a highly bawdy work, and, much earlier, of Eubius and a work called Sybaritica in Ovid’s long catalog in the second book of the Tristia.10 Among the narratives that have come down to us, the two versions of the story of the ass – in Greek by Ps. Lucian, in Latin by Apuleius – appear to belong to a type different from the love romances exemplified by the five novels of Chariton, Achilles Tatius, Xenophon of Ephesus, Longus, and Heliodorus; but, in spite of some common elements, they bear no exact resemblance to the Satyrica either; and, unfortunately, we have no clue about the other novel Apuleius is credited to have written, namely the Hermagoras.11 The story of the ass shows that comic narratives existed in Greek; but, even without it, it would be clear that the love romance was not the only type of Greek fiction.12 Lucian’s True History even proves the existence of parody of a certain type of narrative. This is not the time and place to discuss the intricate problem of the rise and evolution of the Greek novel, which has been debated by scholars since Rohde’s book13 – which remains an epoch-making work, even though subsequent discoveries have disproved the chronology he tried to establish. What we intend to investigate is rather the relation of Petronius’ Satyrica to the Greek love romances that are represented for us by the five novelists we have just mentioned. 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

    370

    Parsons 1971; Parsons 1974. Now in Stephens-Winkler 1995, 358-374. Petr. 23.3. More Sotadeans at 132.8. See ch. IV. See it now in Stephens-Winkler 1995, 400-408. This position has been defended by Astbury 1977. Sud. IV, p. 724, 35-26 Adler. Ov. trist. 2.415-417. This work is quoted by Priscian II 85 Keil, etc., and Fulg. exp. serm. ant. 3. See Perry 1927. For the several types of fiction see e.g. Helm 19562; Kuch 1985; Ruiz-Montero 20032. Rohde 19143.

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius Supposing that there is indeed such a relationship is justified by a remark of an ancient author, who explicitly associates the works of the Latin novelists – Petronius and Apuleius – with the love romance. In his famous passage on those two writers Macrobius describes their narrative works by applying to them a definition that had clearly been formulated in reference to the Greek love romances, as proved by the exact parallel we find in a letter by Julian Apostate. Macrobius calls the stories told by Petronius and Apuleius “plots filled with fictional adventures of lovers”, just as Julian employs the words “fictions” and “plots of love”.14 Obviously the Latin writer, contrary to the theories of some scholars, had no qualms about applying to the Roman novelists – including Apuleius, in whose Metamorphoses there is no pair of lovers – the definition describing the type of fiction prevailing at his time: the love romance. This clearly shows that he regarded all fiction as belonging to one genre, with no insuperable barriers between the different types of narrative – a position shared by a number of modern scholars.15 Therefore we shall be justified in looking for parallels to Petronius in all works of ancient fiction. But, once we have established that similarities between the Satyrica and the love romance are to be expected, the type and character of such similarities remain to be investigated. At the very end of the XIX century Richard Heinze saw in the Satyrica the extended parody of Greek love romances, degrading and desecrating a number of themes and motifs employed in grim earnest by the Greek novelists.16 His analysis is shrewd and penetrating, and, almost at the end, he even supposes the existence of Greek parodic novels previous to Petronius.17 Heinze’s position has been accepted by several scholars, though sometimes with restrictions and reservations.18 One of the weightiest of such reservations concerns the chronology of the literary material to be compared with the remains of Petronius’ Satyrica in order to ascertain the allegedly parodic attitude of the latter. Most of the Greek love romances that have come down to us are undoubtedly later than the Satyrica, although the papyri have shown that Chariton may be not far removed in time from Petronius,19 and that the so-called Ninus, whose fragments prove that the 14

    15 16 17 18

    19

    Macr. in somn. Scip. 1.2.8 exactly corresponds to Iulian. ep. 48 Weis, 301B. Though Macrobius pairs Petronius’ and Apuleius’ stories with Menander’s plays, whereas Julian refers to historiography, both argumenta (Macrobius) and (Julian) may include a reference to the theater. On these passages see Kuch 1985, 9-10. E.g. Mendell 1917, 160; Wehrli 1965, 134, 140, 147, 152. Heinze 1899. Heinze 1899, 518 n. 3. E.g. Kroll 1937, 1207; Stöcker 1969, 3 ff.; Hägg 1983, 171 ff.; Holzberg 1986, 73 ff.; lastly, Habermehl 2006, 258. Coffey 1976, 184 remarks that “it would indeed be difficult not to read parts of the Satyricon as a mockery of the love romance”. Cf. Papanikolaou 1973, 9-19, 163. 371

    Appendix III erotic element was not absent from the story, was probably earlier.20 Other alleged clues for an early dating of the novel in general and the love romance in particular are too vague to be trusted.21 Though a number of parodies of themes current in the love romances have been pointed out in Petronius,22 the list so far is anything but complete, and, most of all, no scholar, as far as I know, has proceeded to compare these similarities in great detail. This is what we propose to do in the following pages; if, at the end of our analysis, it will be clear that the very same motifs which are seriously used in the Greek love romance receive a ridiculous or irreverent twist in Petronius, we will not be able to avoid asking ourselves whether this may be due to mere coincidence or not.23 If the phenomenon appears to be consistent enough, we will be forced to discard accidental coincidence and proceed a step forward by asking ourselves whether the serious or the parodic employment of the same theme is likely to be earlier.24 As, in my opinion, no doubt can be entertained as to the correct answer, we will have to underwrite Heinze’s position, who asserted the existence of a fully developed love romance prior to Petronius even before new papyrological evidence pointing in that direction was available, and even though his comparison between Petronius and the Greek novels was anything but exhaustive. In this connection, it should perhaps not be taken as a mere coincidence, but as a legacy from an earlier time, that even the Greek love romances that have come down to us, surely written in Roman times, seem on the whole to take no heed of the existence of the Roman empire.25 Before we proceed, however, we must call attention to the fact that we possess only scanty remains of the Satyrica, and – even more important – that Petronius’ work is a great deal more than parody, but rather a literary masterpiece in its own right, which, as remarked before, lacks an exact counterpart in antiquity. Suffice it to think of the Cena Trimalchionis, though banquets are occasionally described in other novels.26 Parody and desecration are fundamental 20 21

    22

    23 24

    25 26

    372

    Cf. Stephens-Winkler 1995, 23-71. So, for example, Pers. 1.134 post prandia Callirhoen do, which might be a reference to Chariton’s novel. Thiele 1890 believed that an allusion to the novel could be found in Cic. inv. 1.27 (cf. Rhet. Her. 1.12-13). This seems hardly convincing; see however Perry 1967, 75, 144-146. Cf. the outline in Stöcker 1969, 5 n. 1 (attempts at suicide; sea storm and shipwreck; trial; rival suitors; seeming death; monologues; ekphrasis; sentences; popular assemblies; double dreams). Galli 1996 adds the theme of second encounters between characters. Cf. already Heinze 1899, 503. Cf. Heinze 1899, 504. When Wehrli 1965, 147 speaks of “polarity” in reference to serious and farcical employment of the same themes, this amounts to avoiding the problem of which one is earlier. Cf. Mendell 1917, 165. Cf. e.g. Apul. met. 2.19-31.

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius ingredients in this unique work, but this statement will have to be carefully qualified. There is a clear influence of satire in the Satyrica,27 though moral intents are lacking, but nods to multifarious literary genres are ubiquitous and unmistakable in Petronius. Often they amount to parody and desecration of the highest literary forms of antiquity, such as epic and tragedy. Some scholars have tried to reduce the import of parody of the love romance in the Satyrica by emphasizing this different level of parody;28 others have pointed out that the structure of Petronius’ work allows only of a limited range of situations comparable to those current in the Greek love romances.29 The Satyrica is certainly freer and wider in scope than the latter, nor is it tied to the structural pattern common to most conventional love novels – for example, Encolpius and Giton are separated for just a few chapters.30 However, as we shall see, the parody of the genre is clearly recognizable, and, besides, the degradation of the models of high literature cannot be separated from it. First of all, in the love romances too can we witness the mixing of different literary genres, though the Greek writers aim to obtain a refined literary result, whereas Petronius, though equally or more refined, aims at parody and desecration. It is easy to recognize that Chariton’s habit of interweaving Homeric lines in his text, or the use of Virgilian expressions taken from Dido’s episode in the Historia Apollonii,31 which are absolutely serious in these writings, find a jocular and parodic counterpart in Petronius’ use of Homer and Virgil, including allusions to the same episode of the Aeneid.32 It is quite clear that his aim is not to ridicule Virgil, the Romanus Vergilius he admires,33 but rather the way high poetry is used in the type of writings we have just mentioned. The same is true as far as Homer is concerned: Petronius bases a whole poem in the Circe episode of the Satyrica34 on an episode in Iliad 14 (Zeus’ and Hera’s lovemaking on mount Ida) which is referred to in a similar situation in Heliodorus;35 but whereas in 27 28

    29

    30 31 32 33 34 35

    Cf. e.g. Sandy 1969, and see above, note 1. Perry 1925, 37 thinks that the parody of epic in Petronius proves that he intended no sustained parody of the love romance. For Adamietz 1987, 342 the Greek love romance is only one of the several genres parodied by Petronius. Though this is undoubtedly true, he fails to recognize that the parody of higher literary genres cannot be detached from the one affecting the love romances. For Mendell 1917, 172 and Perry 1925, 37 parody of the love romance in the Satyrica is purely incidental. Stöcker 1969, 4 more sensibly points out that it is not present everywhere; Adamietz 1987, 333 concurs by remarking that the love plot in the Satyrica is not all-important as it is in the Greek romances. Petr. 81-90. Hist. Apoll. reg. Tyr. 18, p. 13, 19-21 Schmeling (Redactio A). See ch. IV for Petronius’ parodic use of the Dido episode at 132.8-11 and in the story of the widow od Ephesus (111.12; 112.2). Petr. 118.5; cf. 68.5. Petr. 127.9. Heliod. 7.21.2. The reference is to Hom. Il. 14.344-345. 373

    Appendix III Heliodorus the go-between Cybele refers to the words of the Homeric Zeus promising Hera to shield their lovemaking even from the Sun’s all-seeing eye, Petronius develops the theme at much greater length,36 though he does not forget the hint at secrecy which is prominent in Heliodorus.37 But he places his refined poetical variation on the Homeric theme in a context in which the elated Encolpius puts himself on a par with Jupiter, or even above him – as in the blasphemous previous poem –,38 only to be struck by unexpected impotence in the ridiculous denouement. And when, shortly after,39 he justifies his address to the mentula first by a reference to Ulysses’ address to his heart40 and then by mentioning tragic characters addressing their own eyes as though these could hear, Petronius is not merely or even mainly poking fun at Sophocles’ Oedipus,41 but rather at writers like Chariton and the authors of the Historia Apollonii and the fragmentary Kalligone, who imitate tragedy by having their characters address their own eyes in all seriousness.42 It is clear, then, that in Petronius the parody of the high literary models is inextricably intertwined with that of the love romances. If in the Satyrica it appears to be more pervasive, this is mainly due to Petronius’ great literary culture, which is far superior, or at least much better mastered and assimilated than in most Greek romances we are still able to read. 2. As already hinted, we must never forget that what we possess of the Satyrica is only a fraction of Petronius’ original work. However, in spite of the greater literary complexity we have also hinted at, a clear parodic pattern is clearly recognizable. The most obvious difference between Petronius and the Greek love romances has been recognized since Heinze43 in the pair of lovers, which in Petronius is homosexual: Encolpius and Giton. Some scholars refuse to see parody in this by pointing out that pederasty does appear even in the Greek love romances;44 but it is easy to rejoin that in all of these it is invariably restricted to

    36 37 38 39 40 41 42

    43 44

    374

    See ch. XIV. Petr. 127. 7 neque est quod curiosum aliquem extimescas; 127.9.7 secreto favit amori. Petr. 126.18. See ch. XIII. Petr. 132.13. Petr. 132.13. For the whole context see ch. XVII. Soph. Oed. t. 1268-1276; cf. Philoct. 1354-1356. Cf. Charit. 6.1.9 (the king of Persia pities his eyes because they will soon lose sight of Callirhoe); hist. Apoll. reg. Tyr. 38 (Apollonius scolds his own eyes for not weeping at reading the inscription seemingly testifying the death of Tarsia). In a scrap of papyrus (PSI 981) preserving a narrative fragment Kalligone curses her own eyes for having seen a certain Eraseinus (cf. Stephens-Winkler 1995, 272, lines 18-20). Heinze 1899, 495-496. Cf. also Courtney 1962, 93-94. E.g. Wehrli 1965, 136-137. Even if in Antonius Diogenes Demochares is not the son but the beloved of Deinias (as suggested by Wehrli 1965, 137), he certainly plays no

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius secondary characters, whereas the couple at the center of the plot is always heterosexual.45 It should also be observed that the recurrent motif of the ekphrasis of artistic depictions of love scenes, which are always heterosexual in the Greek romances,46 pointedly refers to nothing but homosexual liaisons in Petronius.47 Besides, the simultaneous presence of all themes that appear at the beginning of Achilles Tatius’ novel (ekphrasis, power of love, explanation by another character) makes it difficult to think that Petronius did not have a novelistic pattern in mind. The same transposition of gender appears in the case of a theme which, though probably originating in a homoerotic context and developed by no lesser authors than Plato and Callimachus, had been transferred to heterosexual love by the writers of romances, but is again brought back to the homosexual sphere by Petronius in a poem of extreme literary refinement:48 the mixing and exchanging of the lovers’ souls through the kiss. The precise textual and conceptual correspondences between Petronius’ poem and some passages of Achilles Tatius we have illustrated in an earlier chapter49 make it difficult to believe that Petronius – though obviously playing with the whole literary tradition of the theme – did not intend a pointed, irreverent nod to the love romance50 in this poem, and, later on, through his description of Encolpius kissing the boy Endymion.51 But the gender of the lovers is not the most prominent difference between Petronius’ pair and the lovers of the Greek romances. The male heroes of these may at times appear like lifeless marionettes to our taste and sensibility, but not only do they belong to a higher social class than Petronius’ lovers’ – they are also invariably noble and virtuous. Encolpius, by contrast, has often been described as an “anti-hero” – which may justify us in taking the love romance as Petronius’ “anti-model”, or at least one anti-model of his.

    45 46

    47 48 49 50 51

    recognizable erotic role in Photius’ summary. And Deinias falls in love with a woman, Derkyllis. Cf. e.g. Adamietz 1987, 332; and already Heinze 1899, 497 n. 3. Ach. Tat. 1.2.1 (Zeus and Europa); Long. Soph. prooem. (Daphnis and Chloe). The related theme of the power wielded by love even over the gods repeatedly appears too (Ach. Tat. 1.5.7: Apollo and Daphne; Charit. 3.3.6: Thetis and Peleus; cf. Petr. 83.4 ergo amor etiam deos tangit). Cf. Aragosti 1995, 338-339 nn. 244-245. Petr. 83.3-5: Jupiter and Ganymedes; Hylas, Hercules’ beloved, rejecting the nymph – a rejection not testified elsewhere (cf. Habermehl 2006, 73) –; Apollo and Hyacinth. Petr. 79.8. See ch. VII, with a detailed discussion of all related texts. In particular, Ach. Tat. 2.8.2 and 2.37.9-10. The theme appears in another love romance too: Xenoph. Eph. 1.9.6: the lovers’ souls communicate through the kiss; cf. also Ach. Tat. 4.8.2. Petr. 132.1. 375

    Appendix III Encolpius is ready to declare his love to Giton or Circe even when he has been mistreated by them,52 but, quite differently from the male heroes of the Greek love romances, he is just as ready to seek new adventures – not only with Circe, but also with the boy of Croton.53 Giton, on the other hand, is himself quite different from the staunchly faithful heroines of the Greek romances. Not only is he ready to press his advantage whenever he finds it possible,54 but is always unreliable as a loyal partner. His choice of Ascyltos over Encolpius is a scene of the highest comical effect – even superior to the similar scene in Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso, when Doralice unexpectedly chooses Mandricardo over Rodomonte.55 In closer detail, the whole humorous episode appears to be reminiscent of serious novelistic situations like the one depicted in Chariton,56 when Callirhoe must decide between Dionysius and Chaereas. Dionysius curses Babylon, as Encolpius the Graeca urbs,57 but Callirhoe coyly refuses to speak up, whereas Giton, in neat reversal, does not hesitate a single moment in making his choice clear.58 The top of the parodical effect is reached later on, when Giton, answering Encolpius’ direct question, proclaims to have suffered no forcible rape at the hands of Ascyltos59 – a statement whose point is missed by Heinze, when he naively understands it in the same way Giton wants Encolpius to.60 Not only is Petronius’ pair of lovers the opposite of the faithful couples of the love romances;61 this extends to their companions too. The figure of the faithful friend is traditional in the romance.62 But Ascyltos is certainly unlike Policharmos in Chariton, Knemon in Heliodorus, or Kleinias in Achilles Tatius; and when an elderly companion, the poet Eumolpus, replaces Ascyltos, he proves to be a far cry from the venerable figure of old Kalasiris in Heliodorus. These contrasts in the depiction of characters appear to me to be more relevant than the alleged parody of the theme of the persecuting deity in the Greek 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61

    62

    376

    Petr. 91.6 and 138.8 respectively. Petr. 140.11. E.g. Petr. 91.7. Petr. 80.5-8; Ariosto Orl. fur. 27.104-109. Charit. 5.8-10. Petr. 81.3. Petr. 80.6. The parodic connection with the scene in Chariton has apparently escaped Habermehl 2006, 20-23, as well as all other interpreters of Petronius. Petr. 133.2 sibi ab Ascylto nullam vim factam. Heinze 1899, 501. We may wonder whether the fact that Giton and Encolpius are not physically separated except for a short time might be intended as a parody too; though physically close, Petronius’ two “heroes” are really farther apart than the separated lovers of Greek romance. Cf., for example, Wehrli 1965, 139; Courtney 1962, 94. According to some scholars Heliodorus’ Knemon breaks the bond of friendship when he leaves Charikleia: Brioso Sánchez 1987-1988; Liviabella, forthcoming (I wish to thank the author for allowing me to use her work).

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius romances, whose role has often been considered to be parodied through the lewd godly figure of Priapus,63 after the epoch-making essay by Klebs, who believed this god to be at the center of the story and to persecute Encolpius from the very beginning of the novel.64 In my opinion Priapus’ role in the Satyrica, though undoubtedly important, should probably be cut down to size.65 3. Let us now turn to particular themes and motifs. We do not intend to make any sharp distinction between long-winded developments of typical scenes or episodes and less extended, more incidental motifs, since the former may at times include one or even several of the latter. Let us consider, for example, a stock episode of nearly all romances: the sea storm almost invariably entailing shipwreck. It has sometimes been stated than in this case Petronius’ description contains no parody.66 But aside from the fact that it ends with the absurd, if extremely clever, scene of Eumolpus refusing to be saved before bringing his poem to a satisfactory conclusion,67 it contains repeated hints at a minor related theme which seems to have escaped critics. Both Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius refer to the lifeboat which was carried aboard the main ship. In Heliodorus68 the pirates let the Phoenician sailors leave the ship on the lifeboat, as some of them had tried to do before.69 Incidentally, in Heliodorus the calm of the sea produces the opposite effect as compared to Petronius: not peace and rejoicing, but war and desperation, since it lets the pirates overtake the ship. In Achilles Tatius the passengers fight to be able to get in the lifeboat.70 In both writers this takes place in tragic circumstances. In Petronius the lifeboat is finally used for its proper destination, when it saves Tryphaena from the shipwreck,71 but previously it plays a big role in the humorous consultations aimed at devising a way to escape the wrath of Lichas.72 Encolpius proposes to use it to leave the ship, but we learn that it is guarded day and night. One could mention some other motifs common to Petronius and the Greek romances which seem to have been used with no discernible parodic intention in the Satyrica; there are not many, however: for example the marks on walls and pillars in order to find each other, as in Heliodorus,73 or one’s way, as in 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73

    Cf. e.g. Heinze 1899, 501. Klebs 1889. See ch. XVIII. Cf. e.g. Adamietz 1987, 334. Petr. 115.4. Heliod. 5.24.5. Heliod. 5.24.2. Ach. Tat. 3.3-4. Petr. 114.7. Petr. 102.2-5. Heliod. 5.51. 377

    Appendix III Petronius;74 also the description of bird liming – an excuse for the lovers to see each other in Longus75 and a scene of great artistic effect in Petronius,76 who skips the prosaic details of killing and plucking the birds, which are duly recorded by Longus, to dwell on the picture of the feathers borne by the wind and twirling in the sea. The funeral honors rendered to Encolpius’ arch-enemy, Lichas,77 may be compared with those for Dorcon, Daphnis’ rival in Longus’ novel.78 The locus amoenus described by Achilles Tatius79 reminds the reader of a poetical description in Petronius.80 This is of course a theme current in several literary genres, but the similarities between the two novelists are quite pronounced. Though parody does not appear (or rather is well concealed) in the poem itself, we must not forget the ridiculous theme of Encolpius’ impotence pervading the whole context. Another common motif is the description of a beautiful woman – though this too was hardly restricted to the novel. If we compare Achilles Tatius’ description of Leukippe81 and Melite,82 we cannot help noticing that both follow an established pattern: both women have twinkling eyes, blond hair, white skin, and rosy cheeks; and when we read Petronius’ description of Circe we again find twinkling eyes and marble-white skin; besides, she has curly hair like Leukippe, and like the latter is compared to a work of art.83 On the other hand, Encolpius’ remark that, when he saw Circe, her beauty made him look down at his old love Doris84 perfecly parallels what Kleitophon says in Achilles Tatius: he thought Kalligone was beautiful, until he saw Leukippe.85 Another theme which does not seem to have been parodied in Petronius – though some do find parody in it86 – appears in the scene in which Giton and Encolpius prepare to die in each other’s arms in the raging storm.87 Two lovers being shipwrecked together is a topical theme in the novel88 and the wish to die 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83

    84 85 86 87 88

    378

    Petr. 79.4. Habermehl 2006, 3 makes no reference to Heliodorus. Long. Soph. 3.6.1-2. Petr. 109.7. Cf. Habermehl 2006, 468. Petr. 115.11-20. Long. Soph. 1.31. Ach. Tat. 1.15. Petr. 131.8. See ch. XVI. Ach. Tat. 1.4.2-3. Ach. Tat. 5.13.1. Cf. Xenophon’s description of Anthia (1.2.5-6). Circe is compared to Praxiteles’ Diana at Petr. 126.16; Leukippe to a picture of Europa at Ach. Tat. 1.4.3. The manuscrips have instead of . Cf. Morgan 2007, 113 n. 31. Petr. 126.18. Ach. Tat. 1.11.2. Stöcker 1969, 9; Adamietz 1987, 334-335. Petr. 114.8-12. Cf the novelistic texts compared with this passage by Courtney 1962, 98. Cf. e.g. Wehrli 1965, 142.

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius together is current in Greek romances.89As we have seen, Giton is often cunning and disloyal, but here the danger of death is real and leaves no room for roleplaying. Things are quite different when it comes to the theatrical attempts at suicide staged by both partners. The intention or the attempt to kill oneself is perhaps the theme recurring to greatest surfeit in the Greek romances, especially when one of the two lovers believes the other to be dead or lost for ever. The basic idea of the life-and-death bond between the lovers is perhaps best expressed by Heliodorus’ Charikleia: “the fate established for me by the divine powers is to live with this man when he lives, and to die with him when he dies”.90 This is an idea easy to parody in times ancient and modern. In Gilbert and Sullivan’s Mikado, for example, Yum-yum sings: “When your time has come to perish, / then the maiden whom you cherish / must be slaughtered too”; and she adds: “With a passion that’s intense / we worship and adore, / but the laws of common sense / we oughtn’t to ignore”. In Petronius, Encolpius decides to hang himself when he believes Giton has deserted him for good.91 This reminds us of the already mentioned episode in Chariton’s romance in which Callirhoe must choose between Chaereas and Dionysius. The despondent Chaereas prepares a noose to hang himself.92 The beginning of the speech he utters93 resembles the first words spoken by Encolpius after being deserted for the first time by Giton;94 both he and Chaereas regret having survived previous ordeals only to find themselves deserted by their lovers; but very soon the tones of the speeches utterly diverge: Chaereas nobly gives up Callirhoe, whereas Encolpius curses Ascyltos and Giton with the coarsest sexual abuses. Of course neither Chaereas nor Encolpius actually die – the hero of a novel cannot, if the story must go on. The only actual suicide for love can be found in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses,95 when Charite kills herself on the tomb of her husband Tlepolemus; but the Metamorphoses have no couple of lovers at the center of the plot, and Charite is not the heroine of the novel. 89

    90 91 92

    93 94 95

    One of the closest parallels to Petronius’ scene can be found in Heliod. 5.24.3: Charikleia on board the ship wants to die while embracing Theagenes by the same sword blow; but wishing to die together is quite a common theme in the romance. Heliod. 10.9.2. Many other passages could also be quoted. Petr. 94.8. Cf. Habermehl 2006, 258. Charit. 5.10.6. Other hangings which do not cause death are in Apul. met. 1.16 and in the summary of Iamblichus’ Babyloniaka transmitted by Photius (§ 18). Cf. Courtney 1962, 94. Charit. 5.10.6 ff. Similar lamentations appear elsewhere too in Chariton. Cf. Habermehl 2006, 34. Petr. 81.2 ff. Apul. met. 8.14. Another real (and double) suicide – not in an erotic context – is found in Apul. met. 9.38. 379

    Appendix III Encolpius attempts suicide shortly after, when he thinks Giton is dead, by suicide too.96 He had been stopped from hanging himself by Giton’s sudden return; but the boy, seeing him ready to die, wants to precede him in death and strikes himself with a razor belonging to Eumolpus’ servant.97 This razor turns out to be blunt, being used by apprentice barbers. We may discuss endlessly about Giton’s sincerity – we will never know whether he knew that the razor was blunt, or not. We may doubt his sincerity, though, since shortly before he had said he vainly sought a sword in Ascyltos’ abode98 – and we know that Ascyltos did possess a sword.99 What is for sure, however, is that, after striking himself, he theatrically feigns death by falling to the ground.100 A mimica mors, as Encolpius aptly calls it later;101 but one which, at the moment, prompts him to his second attempt at suicide, with the same razor. The theme of the harmless weapon can be found in a serious context in Achilles Tatius:102 a dagger whose blade slides back into the hilt, with which Menelaus pretends to kill Leukippe: a mimica mors too, inasmuch as this dagger was used by actors on stage.103 The suicide theatrics continue aboard Lichas’ ship, after Encolpius and Giton have been recognized.104 Giton threatens to castrate himself – but with the dull razor he had already used: again a theatrical gesture aptly called a tragoedia; Encolpius points a barber’s knife to his own throat, though, this time, with no more intention to follow through than Giton. The role-playing of Petronius’ two lovers – not to mention the incongruous nature of their weapons – cannot but appear a travesty of novelistic situations such as the one at the beginning of Heliodorus’ Aethiopica, when Charikleia points a sword to her own breast, threatening to kill herself if she is separated from Theagenes.105 Petronius has exploited to great advantage all the suggestions offered by a widespread novelistic theme and has created a highly enjoyable episode whose artistic merit greatly exceeds mere parody, though this lies at the base of his literary treatment. We have seen that Petronius repeatedly refers to theater as he gives the theme of the lovers’ attempt at suicide a humorous twist. The theatrical element 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105

    380

    Petr. 94.13. Petr. 94.9-11. Petr. 94.10. Habermehl 2006, 267-268 rightly points out that Giton is palying a role in the whole scene. Petr. 9.5; 80.1. Petr. 94.13. Petr. 94.15. At 95.1 the whole situation is equated with a theatrical play: dum haec fabula inter amantes luditur. Cf. Habermehl 2006, 267. Ach. Tat. 3.20-21. Cf., lastly, Habermehl 2006, 266. The parodical twist given by Petronius to the situation is recognized by Wehrli 1965, 143 n. 23; Adamietz 1987, 336 n. 25. Petr. 108.10-11. Heliod. 1.4.1. No novelistic parallel is mentioned by Habermehl 2006, 449.

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius is prominent in Petronius, as masterly shown by Costas Panayotakis;106 and the same holds true for the love romance.107 In the passage we have mentioned at the beginning Macrobius associates the love romances, which, as we have seen, he somewhat unexpectedly exemplifies with the works of Petronius and Apuleius, with Menander’s plays.108 The passages in which the Greek novelists refer to their own narrative by theatrical terms are countless in all authors, and particularly in Heliodorus.109 This happens at times in Petronius too,110 but more often in the Satyrica theatrical terms are used to imply pretense and deception: the mimica mors111 we have already mentioned, the mimicae artes aimed at deceiving Lichas,112 or the mimus Eumolpus and his companions will set up to deceive the people of Croton,113 which is later called a tragoedia,114 like the one played by Giton with the blunt razor.115 No distinction appears to be made between dignified tragedy and lowly mime. Sometimes the Greek romances too refer to the theater as a play aimed at deception;116 but it is probably not merely coincidental that, whereas in the love romances this meaning is much rarer than the use of theatrical terms in reference to the story being narrated, the situation is neatly reversed in Petronius. Another typical theme of the Greek romance, that goes as far back as the , proclaiming the happiness of the partner or the Odyssey,117 is the parents of the hero or the heroine. It is found not merely in the love romances,118 but also in Apuleius, though adapted to the religious atmosphere of the final book of the Metamorphoses.119 A clear parody of this theme can be found in Eumolpus’ pass at Giton,120 whose mother he proclaims to be happy because of the beauty and virtue of her son. He then adds that Encolpius will not be jealous, since he loves somebody else, of course causing the latter’s fury. It is perhaps 106 107 108 109 110 111

    112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120

    Panayotakis 1995. See for example Corbato 1968. Macr. in somn. Scip. 1.2.8. Cf. Marini 1991, who also shows that the term was often used to indicate the love romance itself. Cf. Petr. 95.1 (quoted above, note 101); 92.13; and especially the poem at 80.9, on which see ch. VIII. Petr. 94.15, though here “theatricality” in the proper sense of the word is also in the foreground. The mimicus risus at 19.1 probably implies that Quartilla is following a preordained “script” in her lewd ceremony. Petr. 106.1. Petr. 117.4. Petr. 140.6. Petr. 108.11. Cf. e.g. Heliod. 2.1.21; 10.12.2; Ach. Tat. 5.21.3; 7.11.1; 8.8.14; etc. Hom. Odyss. 6.154 ff. (Ulysses’ words to Nausikaa). Charit. 1.1.16; 8.58; Xenoph. Eph. 1.2.7; 1.7.3; cf. 2.2.4; Hist. Apoll. reg. Tyr. 31. Apul. met. 11.16 and 22. Petr. 94.1-3. No reference to novelistic parallels in Habermehl 2006, 252. 381

    Appendix III worth noting that, whereas in the love romances either both parents121 or the father122 are said to be happy, Eumolpus refers to the mother, like a well-known Gospel passage.123 Another instance of humorous employment of a motif at least as old as the Cologne Archilochus,124 which is also found in the love romance, concerns the theme of lovemaking under one cloak. In Longus, Daphnis and Chloe lie down naked under the same goatskin.125 Possibly the Greek novelist intended a slight parody too, because Daphnis controls his lust so that nothing happens; but parody is much clearer when Ascyltos lifts the garment covering Encolpius and Giton making love, and asks: “What were you doing, most holy brother? Are you using your clothing to set up comradeship under one tent?”126 The same theme appears again, but this time sublimated in the face of death, in the scene already mentioned, in which Giton slips into Encolpius’ tunic to die with him in the shipwreck.127 When in Heliodorus the king of Ethiopia orders to take good care of Charikleia and Theagenes and feed them abundantly pending their sacrifice to the Ethiopian deities,128 it immediately comes to mind that this theme was in all probability parodied in the lost episode of Petronius’ novel which, according to Servius,129 took place in Marseilles: there, during a famine, a volunteer was fed and cared for during a whole year, and then treated as a scapegoat. In Heliodorus, of course, the king recognizes Charikleia as his own daughter, and the sacrifice is called off; we have no idea how the corresponding episode ended in Petronius, but his desecrating intention is all but certain. The exchange of letters between Encolpius and Circe130 is indeed mentioned by Heinze,131 but only in connection with rhetoric and style, making no comparison with the corresponding pairs of letters found in the Greek novels, which would have revealed Petronius’ parodic intention in all clearness. We shall return to this subject later on, since the pair of letters plays an important role in the more extended parody of the attempt at seducing the hero by a female rival suitor – a stock theme in the love romance. 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131

    382

    Xenoph. Eph. 1.2.7. Hist. Apoll. reg. Tyr. 31. Lc. 11.27. See ch. XIV, text to notes 62-65, for Archilochus; and, for a general survey, Arrigoni 1983. Long. Soph. 3.24.2. Petr. 11.2-3. Petr. 114.9-12. Heliod. 9.25.4. Serv. ad Aen. 3.57 (= Petr. fr. 1 Müller). Petr. 129-130. Heinze 1899, 516. The parallel exchange of love letters in Petronius and the Greek novels is only briefly touched upon by Courtney 1962, 99 and Pacchieni 1976, 79-80, 90.

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius We shall end this section of our enquiry by mentioning a further typically novelistic motif whose parody can be found in Petronius: the double dream. In Chariton, Longus, Heliodorus, Achilles Tatius, and also Apuleius132 we find several instances of two characters having dreams that are similar, or any way point to the same effect.133 Very often these are prophectic dreams, in which gods give warnings or predict the future. Eros and the Nymphs appear in Longus, Apollo and Artemis in Heliodorus, Aphrodite in Achilles Tatius, Isis and – probably – Osiris in Apuleius. Artemidorus of Daldis informs us134 that a dream which appears to more than one person gains in credibility, but in the novels the theme of the double dream is rather employed as an effective narrative device. The importance of this theme in the love romances has been widely recognized.135 So has its humorous employment in Petronius136 in the scene in which Lichas and Tryphaena tell each other about their dreams, with Priapus and Neptune respectively revealing that they will find Encolpius and Giton aboard the ship.137 Aside from the jocular debasement of the theme inherent in the nature of the personal relationships among the characters involved, Petronius’ parodic intention is apparent in Tryphaena’s words, when she hears of Lichas’ dream so similar to her own: “You’d think we have been sleeping together”. These words prove that, as a matter of fact, Tryphaena and Lichas, though both quite unchaste, have not slept together; by contrast, in Heliodorus, Theagenes and Charikleia, though pure and chaste, do sleep together, and when the girl has a nightmare and screams in fright, Theagenes shares in her agitation as though he had had the same dream.138 Once again, Petronius has given a parodic twist to a typical theme widely used in novels ancient and modern. Arthur Schnitzler’s Traumnovelle is completely centered on the theme of the double dream: Albertine’s dream and Fridolin’s adventure complement each other; and though the latter is outwardly narrated as real, there are several clues unveil132

    133

    134 135

    136

    137 138

    Charit. 1.12.5 with 1.12.10 and 2.1.2; Long. Soph. 1.7.1; 2.10.1; 4.34.1 and 4.35.5; Heliod. 8.11.1-4; 9.25.1 and 10.3.1; cf. 2.16.1-2; 3.11.5; Ach. Tat. 1.3.4 and 2.11.1; 4.1.3-8; Apul. 11.6; 11.22; 11.27. In the three passages in Chariton quoted in the preceding note there are acually three characters (Theron, Leonas, Dionysius) who have dreams which, though different, point to the same effect. Artemid. onirocr. 1.2, p. 10, 21-23 Pack. Cf. e.g. Kerényi 1927, 166; Merkelbach 1962, 132; more recently Galli 1996, 42; Habermehl 2006, 387. A detailed analysis of the theme of the double dream, from its origin to its employment in the ancient novel, is provided by Patimo 2006, who also stresses the novelties introduced by Petronius as well as his parodic attitude. On dreams in the Greek novel see MacAlister 1996; Plastira-Valcanou 2001. Besides Patimo 2006, quoted in the preceding note, cf. Adamietz 1987, 336 n. 25; Kragelund 1989, 437-439, also polemicizing with Fröhlke 1977, 40-42, who thinks the theme of the double dream not to be successfully integrated in the Petronian context. Petr. 104.1-2. Heliod. 2.16.2. 383

    Appendix III ing it as a dream. The password to enter the mysterious villa is “Denmark” – the setting of Albertine’s dream; and at the end Fridolin will tell his wife: “No dream is totally a dream”. 4. So far we have encountered parodies of motifs current in the Greek novels in those parts of the Satyrica that outwardly borrow the structure or the situations of the love romance. We do not expect to find any such parody in the parts in which Petronius turns to the other sources of inspiration that converge into a work so rich and varied that, as we have already remarked, it hardly has any counterpart in ancient literature. So it would be useless to search for parody of the love romance, say, in the Cena Trimalchionis, or in the discussions about literature. But what about such inserted stories as those concerning the boy of Pergamum or the widow of Ephesus, in which the clearest mark left by the socalled “Milesian tales” has often been recognized? Concerning the first one, a single, but perhaps revealing, sign of parody can be detected through a comparison with a story told by Achilles Tatius, concerning not the main couple of the novel but Kleitophon’s cousin Kleinias, and featuring a pederastic love like the one narrated by Eumolpus. Kleinias is so generous that he gives his beloved Charikles a horse he had bought for himself;139 but the horse will later bring about Charikles’ death.140 The tragic theme is degraded to ridiculous parody in Petronius, where the horse does not exist, and is not even really promised but merely conjured up by Eumolpus in order to obtain the favors of the boy, which he will then repeatedly enjoy even after it becomes clear that the horse will never materialize.141 The story of the widow of Ephesus is much more complex; not only is the theme widespread in many literatures, Eastern as well as Western, but we can be absolutely certain that the particular story preexisted Petronius, since it appears in one of the fables of Phaedrus.142 This proves that the macabre motif had been given a humorous twist in a type of literature quite distinct from the love romances, where, as we shall presently see, several clearly recognizable elements of the story are still employed in all seriousness. The comparison with both Phaedrus and the love romances, however, leads us to believe that Petronius has knowingly enriched his story through the travesty of the latter. That the theme of Scheintod is current in the Greek novel is a fact that hardly needs being stressed; and not rarely it is followed by the burial of some-

    139 140 141 142

    384

    Ach. Tat. 1.7.1. Ach. Tat. 1.12. Petr. 86-87. Phaedr. app. 13.

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius one who is still alive. With one or two exceptions,143 the one buried alive is a woman. In Chariton144 Callirhoe is buried alive and delivered by the pirate Theron. In Achilles Tatius145 the living Leukippe is placed in a sarcophagus. In Xenophon of Ephesus146 Anthia wakes up in a tomb and when some thieves break into it she asks them to respect her chastity – the opposite of what happens in Petronius’ story. In Heliodorus the underground cavern where Charikleia is confined is repeatedly called a tomb (and Charikleia is described as buried alive),147 but it is intended to protect her chastity:148 again the opposite of the story in the Satyrica. Theagenes believes her to be dead and fancies that the cave will be the tomb where he and Charikleia will lie dead together;149 this exactly corresponds to what the people of Ephesus think in Petronius: “The chaste wife has died on the body of her husband” – such are their reported words.150 Needless to say, the truth is quite different from this façade in Petronius’ story. In the Historia Apollonii too151 Apollonius’ wife is placed in a coffin which is thrown in the sea; in Ephesus she will be revived by a physician. Petronius’ story of the widow of Ephesus clearly parodies the theme of the woman buried alive and later delivered or revived.152 When her husband dies she is not dead yet, but wishes to die; so she follows him into his tomb; but the soldier’s love will revive her: reviviscere, as her maidservant will say.153 Curiously enough, we find an exact, though very serious reversal of the macabre motif of the living wife dwelling with the dead husband in Xenophon of Ephesus.154 There the fisherman Aigialeus keeps the mummified body of his dead wife in his abode; in this case it is not the living wife who descends into the grave of the dead husband, but the living husband who keeps his dead wife in his dwelling.155 Obviously Petronius has made fun of the theme of faithfulness beyond death. 143

    144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152

    153 154 155

    In Apul. met. 10.5-12 a boy is buried alive, but the erotic element is lacking; according to Photius’ account (§ 6), in Iamblichus’ Babyloniaka Rhodanes and Sinonis dine and sleep in a grave – but they are not buried alive. Charit. 1.8-9. Ach. Tat. 3.22. Xenoph. Eph. 3.8.1-5. Heliod. 2.4.4; 5.2.8; Charikleia is described as buried alive at 1.29.4. Heliod. 1.28-29. Heliod. 2.4.4. Petr. 112.3. Hist. Apoll. reg. Tyr. 25-26. Merkelbach 1962 believed this theme was meant to symbolize mystic doctrines of rebirth. As his whole interpretation of the Greek novel, this is hardly credible; cf. e.g. Wehrli 1965, 142. Petr. 111.12. The ancilla will also say vivas. Cf. vivere (111.13). Xenoph. Eph. 5.1.9-11. This is possibly reminiscent of Eurip. Alc. 348-352. 385

    Appendix III 5. We have saved to the end the treatment of an extended episode in which, in my opinion, Petronius’ parodic use of themes and motifs employed in all seriousness in the Greek love romance is sustained and unmistakable: the adventure with Circe in the final part of what has survived of the Satyrica. The female rival suitor testing the faithfulness of the male hero of the story appears in several of the Greek novels that have come down to us. As we have already remarked, the Greek heroes resist to the end (with the single exception of Kleitophon, though he too yields to Melite’s desire only once and out of compassion, before leaving her for ever).156 So, as a rule, nothing will happen, because the Greek heroes are unwiling; in Petronius, by contrast, Encolpius is only too willing, but again nothing will happen because of his impotence. In Petronius Encolpius’ complaint is real, but the theme of impotence appears – as a pretense in order to hold back the female suitor’s lust – in the Greek romances too: as an excuse invented by the go-between to justify her failure in Heliodorus,157 or by the hero himself, as Kleitophon does with Melite in Achilles Tatius,158 with words reminiscent of some lines of Encolpius’.159 Incidentally, if Petronius amused himself by having his Encolpius really suffer the disease that was currently alleged as an excuse by romance heroes when their virtue was tempted by a female suitor, there is no reason to think that Encolpius suffered from impotence in parts of the novel other than the Circe episode, as some scholars believe. Surely Encolpius appears to be anything but impotent in earlier parts of the narrative,160 and to be not merely disappointed but also surprised at his failure with Circe: as he says himself, he used to be an Achilles in sex play.161 In view of Kleitophon finally making love to Melite, we cannot even be sure that he finally did not succeed with Circe; he certainly is still in love with her shortly before162 the final recuperation of his manhood163 – but the state of the tradition gives us no clues. The theme of impotence is only one of the many strands in the fabric of the stock episode concerning the female rival suitor. In Heliodorus Cybele, the gobetween, chooses a roundabout approach to convince Theagenes,164 and then 156 157 158 159

    160 161 162 163 164

    386

    Ach. Tat. 5.27. Heliod. 7.19.9. Cybele, the go-between, tells Arsake that Theagenes cannot satisfy her, because he is unwell. Ach. Tat. 5.21. Ach. Tat. 5.21.3: “I do not know what happened to me; some disease has got hold of me”; cf. Petr. 128.2: “a spell has befallen me”; 129.1: “I do not have knowledge or feeling of being a man”. Petr. 11.1; 79.8. Encolpius’ failure to perform in Quartilla’s “ceremony” is due either to exhaustion (20.2) or disgust (23.5). Cf. ch. XVIII, text to notes 59-63. Petr. 129.1. Cf. ch. XVIII, note 63. Petr. 138.6-8. Petr. 140.12-13. Heliod. 7.19.

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius tries to overcome his reluctance.165 The situation is neatly reversed in Petronius, in accordance with Encolpius’ attitude reversing that of the Greek heroes: Chrysis is almost brutally direct – she expects no reluctance except perhaps a request for money.166 But, as we have already seen,167 Cybele refers to the same Homeric episode – Zeus’ and Hera’s lovemaking on mount Ida – which plays a prominent part in Petronius’ Circe episode. She will also suffer a fate hardly different from Petronius’ go-betweens’: Cybele is in fact rudely thrown out,168 as the sorceress Proselenos is in Petronius, while Chrysis, who is Circe’s slave, gets a whipping.169 Theagenes’ suitor is no less than the wife of the satrap of Egypt, but Circe too is a respectable lady: a matrona;170 and in Achilles Tatius Melite is a wealthy and respected widow – or at least she is believed to be. However, she is not above asking Leukippe – of all people –, whom she thinks to be an accomplished magician, to prepare a philter in order to gain Kleitophon’s love.171 Consistently with the situation prevailing in the Greek romances, sorcery is used to overcome the male hero’s unwillingness; in Petronius it will have to be used to cure the only too willing Encolpius’ only too real impotence.172 Unlike Encolpius, Kleitophon, as we have seen, feigns impotence to put off Melite, who uses words very similar to those of Encolpius to Circe. She tells Kleitophon: “Even though I am hated, I love the one who hates me; though in pain, I sympathize with the one giving me pain; injury does not stop my love”. “Even though I have reasons for anger, I burn with passion; though injured, I am in love; make peace with me, have pity on me”.173 Encolpius says: “Injuries do not deter me; I have been beaten, but I have forgotten; I have been thrown out, but I take it as a joke; may I only get back in her favor”.174 Here we witness the exchange of gender roles, which appears repeatedly in the Circe episode, as we have already seen.175 When Melite’s husband, Thersandros, who had mistakenly been reported dead, suddenly returns, he gives Kleitophon a sound beating.176 This has a parodic counterpart in Encolpius’ beating by Circe’s servants.177 In Achilles Ta165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177

    Heliod. 7.20. Petr. 126.1-4. Cf. above, text to notes 34-37. Heliod. 7.22.2. Petr. 132.5. Petr. 126.11; 132.2. Ach. Tat. 5.22. Petr. 131 ff. Ach. Tat. 5.25.2 and 5.26.1 respectively. Petr. 138.8. Encolpius has the same attitude toward Giton too: 91.6. Cf. ch. XIV, § 3. Ach. Tat. 5.23. Petr. 132.2-4; 138.7. 387

    Appendix III tius Kleitophon is beaten on the grounds of the mistaken assumption that he had sex with Melite. He would not have been beaten, if Thersandros had known the truth. Neither in Achilles Tatius nor in Petronius has any sex taken place, but Thersandros beats Kleitophon because he does not know, whereas Circe has Encolpius beaten because she knows only too well. Thersandros takes offense because he thinks Kleitophon has made love to his wife; Circe does because Encolpius has not made love to her. In Xenophon of Ephesus too Habrokomes is beaten and tortured on the wrong assumption that he has made love to Manto,178 when in reality he has turned down her advances. In no case has any sex taken place, but in the Greek novels we do find threats of punishments if the male hero willingly fails to fulfill the lady’s desires, i.e. for the very reason why Encolpius, whose failure is anything but willing, suffers them in Petronius. This happens in Heliodorus, when Cybele hints at Arsake’s revenge, should Theagenes fail to oblige her, and in the letter Manto writes to Habrokomes in Xenophon of Ephesus.179 Petronius’ treatment of the motif can be best understood by referring to the final scene180 of Lucius or the Ass attributed to Lucian. After Lucius has been transformed back into a man, he visits the lady who had been his lover when he was an ass. From the corresponding episode in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses181 we learn that she is a respectable matrona, like Circe. Of course, as a man, Lucius is unable to satisfy her as the donkey could. So, the reason for the lady’s disappointment is not greatly different from Circe’s in the Satyrica. Like Circe, she calls her servants and has Lucius thrown out. He is spat upon just like Encolpius182 – everything corresponds, except for the fact that no beating is expressly mentioned. The influence of the Milesia in this episode is suggested by a fragment of Sisenna’s Latin translation which seems to be closely paralleled both in Ps. Lucian and Apuleius.183 It is possible, therefore, that Petronius may be giving a motif current in ancient fiction a comic twist similar to the one it had already received in the Milesia; but the numerous parodies, in this episode, of themes that are seriously used in the love romances makes it difficult to believe that these did not function as Petronius’ “anti-models” too.

    178 179 180 181 182

    183

    388

    Xenoph. Eph. 2.6. Heliod. 7.20.4-5; Xenoph. Eph. 2.5.2. Ps. Lucian. Luc. sive asin. 56. Apul. met. 10.19-22. Lucius is spat upon by the lady, Encolpius by the servants (Petr. 132.3). We should not forget that at Croton Encolpius is thought to be a slave; for this reason he can be beaten and spat upon by the slaves. Lucius, as a free man, cannot be beaten. Sisenna Miles. libri fr. 9 Peter = 10 Bücheler; cf. Ps. Lucian. Luc. sive asin. 51; Apul. met. 10.22. A papyrus containing a similar scene has been recently published: POxy 4762.

    Novelistic Love between Parody and Ideal: The Greek Novelists and Petronius A further confirmation comes from the way Petronius treats the exchange of letters between the two lovers.184 Such an exchange appears in Achilles Tatius, not between a female rival suitor and the hero of the story, but between Leukippe and Kleitophon – the hero and the heroine.185 Like in Petronius, the woman is the first to write, and here too she has grounds for complaint, though different from Circe’s; Kleitophon answers by assuring her that he has had no sex with Melite, like Encolpius has had none with Circe; but of course, what is a credit for Kleitophon is the most grievous fault for Encolpius. In Chariton, a letter by Chaereas to Callirhoe receives no answer, since it is intercepted by Dionysius. In it Chaereas admits his wrongs to Callirhoe, just like Encolpius does with Circe, though his wrongs are of course of a very different nature. But the closest parallel is the exchange between Manto, the female rival suitor, and Habrokomes in Xenophon of Ephesus.186 Like Circe, Manto is the first to write; in deadly seriousness she proposes to kill her rival Anthia. We may smile at what this gruesome motif has become in Petronius: Circe is more than ready to put up with Giton as a rival;187 it is Encolpius, again reversing the gender roles, who is ready to give up Giton188 – a sacrifice that Circe ironically refuses.189 Habrokomes replies refusing Manto’s advances with noble words: “My lady, do as you wish and treat my body like a slave’s; if you wish to kill me, I am ready, if you want to torture me, do so as you please; but I will not come to your bed, nor, if you commanded me to, would I obey”.190 Encolpius uses very similar words in his reply to Circe: “If you wish to kill me, I come with my own sword; if you are content with a beating, I run naked to my lady”.191 Except that, of course, he would be only too happy to obtain a second chance to get into Circe’s bed. Clearly, Petronius has picked up a novelistic motif: the love of a female rival suitor for the hero of the story, which fails to come to fruition because of the hero’s obdurate refusal. He parodies the theme by presenting Encolpius more than willing to oblige the lady, whose lust is not satisfied not because of the hero’s chastity, but due to his impotence – which is real, not a mere excuse, as it is in the Greek novels. For this reason the exchange of letters is postponed till after the first, fruitless encounter. 184

    185 186 187 188 189 190 191

    Petr. 129-130. I do not see how Adamietz 1987, 336 n. 25 can possibly state that the theme of the letter exchange in Petronius has no relation to similar cases in the Greek novels. No reference to Petronius in Létoublon 2003. Ach. Tat. 5.18.3-6 and 5.20.5. Xenoph. Eph. 2.5.1-2 and 4. In Xenophon’s novel there is also another, less developed, episode involving a female rival suitor: Kyno (3.12). Petr. 127.2. Petr. 127.3. Petr. 127.4. Xenoph. Eph. 2.5.4. Petr. 130.3. 389

    Appendix III If we keep in mind Petronius’ Circe episode and its counterparts in the Greek romances we have compared with it, we will be in a position, I believe, to judge whether the sustained comic and desecrating twist given to themes and motifs which appear to be taken seriously in the love romance can be ascribed to mere coincidence, and, if there is a connection, whether the serious or the parodic use is likely to have preceded in time. In neither case, it seems to me, can any reasonable doubt be entertained.

    390

    Works Quoted Only works (including editions) expressly quoted in this book are listed here. The numbers refer to the notes to the Introduction or to the several Chapters and Appendixes in which the quotations occur.

    J. Adamietz, Zum literarischen Charakter von Petrons Satyrica, “RhM” 130, 1987, 329-346 App. III 1; 28; 29; 45; 66; 86; 103; 136; 184

    J. Adamietz, Circe in den Satyrica Petrons und das Wesen dieses Werkes, “Hermes” 123, 1995, 320-334 Ch. IV 76; XIII 28; XVI 109; XVII 83; XIX 39; XXI 5; XXII 22

    J.N. Adams, The Latin Sexual Vocabulary, London 1982 Ch. IV 100; 112; VII 37

    F. Alesse, Panezio di Rodi e la tradizione stoica, Napoli 1994 Ch. VIII 30

    F. Alesse, Panezio. Testimonianze. Introd., trad. e comm., Napoli 1997 Ch. VIII 30

    L. Alfonsi, Petronio e i Teodorei, “RFIC” 76, 1948, 46-53 Ch. I 166; 173

    L. Alfonsi, Topica erotico-elegiaca in Petronio, “Aevum” 34, 1960, 254-255 Ch. XIII 16; 17

    W. Aly, Sotades, “RE” II 5, 1927, 1207-1209 Ch. IV 3

    G. Appel, De Romanorum precationibus, Gissae 1909 Ch. XVIII 18; 19; 20; 21; 88

    A. Aragosti, L’episodio petroniano del forum (Sat. 12-15): assimilazione dei codici nel racconto, “MD” 3, 1979, 101-119

    Works Quoted Ch. II 1; 14; 25; 48; 52; III 1; 9

    A. Aragosti, Petronio Arbitro, Satyricon. Introd. trad. e note. Testo latino a fronte, Milano 1995 Ch. I 1; 7; 8; 33; 38; 78; 88; 187; 200; 207; 219; 231; II 14; 26; 34; 44; III 9; 25; 35; IV 15; 61; V 5; VI 12; 16; 76; 121; VIII 2; 11; IX 1; 20; 29; XI 40; 45; XII 9; 10; 25; 40; XIII 1; XIV 15; XVI 6; 10; 24; 26; 32; 109; XVII 121; XVIII 7; 35; 38; 45; 92; XIX 24; XX 2; 19; 20; 42; XXI 23; 40; XXII 72; 85; App. I 5; II 4; 64; III 46

    A. Aragosti-P. Cosci-A. Cotrozzi, Petronio: l’episodio di Quartilla (Satyricon 16-26.6), Bologna 1988 Ch. III 9; 26; 32; 35; IV 1; 22; 24; 25; 37; 38; 48; 50; 55; 61

    G. Arrigoni, Amore sotto il mantello e iniziazione nuziale, “QUCC” 15, 1983, 756 App. III 124

    W. Arrowsmith, Luxury and Death in the Satyricon, “Arion” 5, 1966, 304-331 Ch. V 6

    E. Asmis, Philodemus’ Epicureanism, “ANRW” II 36, 1990, 2369-2406 Ch. XVII 126

    E. Asmis, Philodemus’ Poetic Theory and On the Good King according to Homer, “ClAnt” 10, 1991, 1-45 Ch. XVII 126

    R. Astbury, Petronius, P.Oxy 3010 and Menippean Satire, “CPh” 72, 1977, 2231 Intr. 14; Ch. IV 7; App. III 8

    R. Astbury, M. Terentius Varro, Saturarum Menippearum Fragmenta, Leipzig 1985 App. II 68

    E. Auerbach, Mimesis, Ital. transl., Torino 1956 Ch. XVII 64

    R.G. Austin, P. Vergili Maronis Aeneidos liber secundus, with a commentary, Oxford 1964 Ch. XV 27

    R.G. Austin, P. Vergili Maronis Aeneidos liber sextus, with a commentary, Oxford 1977

    392

    Works Quoted Ch. XV 29; XVIII 24

    B. Baldwin, Trimalchio’s Poetry, “CJ” 66, 1970-1971, 254-255 Ch. V 64; 73; 105; 110

    B. Baldwin, Ira Priapi, “CPh” 68, 1973, 294-296 Ch. XVII 42

    B. Baldwin, Petronius 34.10, “Maia” 31, 1979, 145 Ch. V 8; 73

    B. Baldwin, Trimalchio and Maecenas, “Latomus” 43, 1984, 402-403 Ch. VI 476

    B. Baldwin, Eumolpus’ Poetic Hair, “PSN” 18, 1988, 4-5 Ch. XII 4; 17

    A. Barbieri, Poetica petroniana. Satyricon 132, 15, Roma 1983 Ch. IV 98; XVII 25; 37; 38; 64; 103; 121; 123

    A. Barchiesi, Tracce di narrativa greca e romanzo latino: una rassegna, in: Semiotica della novella latina. Atti del convegno interdisciplinare ‘La novella latina’ (Perugia 11-13 aprile 1985), Roma 1986, 219-236 Ch. IV 7

    A. Barchiesi, Traces of Greek Narrative and the Roman Novel: A Survey, in: S.J. Harrison (ed.), Oxford Readings in the Roman Novel, Oxford 1999, 124-141 Ch. IV 7

    A. Barigazzi, Favorino di Arelate. Opere. Introd., testo crit. e comm., Firenze 1966 Ch. VIII 40

    E.J. Barnes, Further on Trimalchio’s Poetry, “CJ” 66, 1970-1971, 255 Ch. V 64

    E.J. Barnes, The Poems of Petronius, Diss. Toronto 1971

    Intr. 2; 10; 22; 24; 36; 38; 39; Ch. I 4; 25; 26; 32; 33; 34; 36; 44; 47; 50; 61; 65; 75; 96; 112; 135; 176; 208; 209; 215; 227; II 5; 15; III 3; 23; 32; IV 1; 4; 5; 30; 34; 58; 76; 94; V 48; 104; 110; 114; VI 27; 32; 33; 42; 56; 63; 64; 74; 78; 96; 102; 109; 118; 121; VII 6; 7; 36; VIII 4; IX 19; X 22; XI 7; XII 17; 19; 49; 50; 70; 72; XIV 3; XV 3; XVI 6; 7; 23; 26; XVII 3; 5; 24; 121; 124; 142; XVIII 21; 36; 42; 51; 81; 113; XIX 1; 4; 5; 6; 8; 15; 25; 30; 38; 39; 44; 54; 78; 88; 94; XX 60; 88; XXI 18; 24; 35; 37; XXII 2; 4; 11; 22; 92

    E.J. Barnes, Philo and Stoic Rhetoric, “Latomus” 32, 1973, 787-798 393

    Works Quoted Ch. I 55; 63; 67

    D. Bartonková, Prosimetrum, the Mixed Style, in Ancient Literature, “Eirene” 14, 1976, 65-92 Ch. IV 5

    W. Bauer, Johannesevangelium, Tübingen 19252 App. II 10

    R. Beck, Some Observations on the Narrative Technique of Petronius, “Phoenix” 27, 1973, 42-61 Intr. 13; Ch. IV 5; VII 1; VIII 43; XI 23; XII 17; 47; 65; XIII 3; 5; XIV 11; 12; XV 12; 14; XVII 3; 4; 12; 19; 20; 21; 22; 85; XVIII 42; XIX 10; XX 54; 83; XXI 48; 49; XXII 4; 5

    R. Beck, Encolpius at the Cena, “Phoenix” 29, 1975, 271-283 Ch. XXI 48

    R. Beck, Eumolpus poeta, Eumolpus fabulator: A Study of Characterization in the Satyricon, “Phoenix” 33, 1979, 239-253 Ch. X 38; XII 5

    R. Beck, The Satyricon: Satire, Narrator and Antecedents, “MH” 39, 1982, 206214 Ch. XXI 48

    G. Bendz, Sprachliche Bemerkungen zu Petron, “Eranos” 39, 1941, 27-55 Ch. VI 32; 34; 65; 76

    J.H. Bernard, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to St. John, edited by A.H. McNeile, II, Edinburgh 1928 App. II 16; 17

    M. Bettini, A proposito dei versi sotadei greci e romani: con alcuni capitoli di ‘analisi metrica lineare’, “MD” 9, 1982, 59-105 Ch. IV 1; 2; 3; 21; 25; 27; 65; 75; 79; 85; 92; 113

    H.D. Betz, The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation, including Demotic Spells. Volume One: Texts, Chicago-London 19922 Ch. XIX 41; 45; App. II 15; 57; 61

    E. Bickel, Petrons simplicitas bei Tacitus. Zu Tac. ann. XVI 18 und Petron 132, 15, “RhM” 90, 1941, 269-272 Ch. XVII 38; 42; 49; 52

    394

    Works Quoted Th. Birt, Marginalien zu lateinischen Prosaikern, “Philologus” 83, 1928, 31-54 Ch. I 113

    A. Blaise, Dictionnaire Latin-Français des Auteurs chrétiens, Turnhout 1954 App. II 24

    D. Blickmann, The Romance of Encolpius and Circe, “A & R” N.S. 33, 1988, 716 Ch. IV 76; XIII 3

    H. Bogner, Petronius bei Tacitus, “Hermes” 76, 1941, 223-224 Ch. XVII 42

    F. Bömer, P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphosen. Kommentar, Buch I-III, Heidelberg 1969 Ch. XIV 21

    C. Bonner, App. II 32

    and the Saltire of Aphrodite, “AJPh” 70, 1949, 1-6

    A. Borghini, Le ragioni di Dafne: per il recupero di una lezione ‘emarginata’ (Petr., Sat., CXXVI, 18), “Latomus” 47, 1988, 384-390 (with an Appendix by F. Fanciullo, Prestiti dal greco e restrizioni sequenziali latine: il caso di Haec vera est Danae di Petronio, Sat., CXXVI, pp. 390-391) Ch. XIII 34; XVI 113

    A. Borghini, L’episodio petroniano di Circe e Polieno: sul valore simbolicorituale del platano, “Aufidus” 28, 1996, 19-32 Ch. XVI 113.

    F. Bornmann, La poesia di Callimaco sulla vittoria nemea di Berenice, “Quad. A.I.C.C. di Foggia” 1, 1981, 95-111 Ch. XXI 8

    I. Borszák, Petronius és Martialis simplicitas-a, “EPhK” 70, 1947, 1-21 Ch. XVII 53; 65; 77

    P. Bossi, Note al nuovo Archiloco, “MCr” 8-9, 1973-1974, 14-17 Ch. XIV 62

    G.W. Bowersock, Fiction as History. Nero to Julian, Berkeley-Los AngelesLondon 1994 Ch. IV 123; App. II 28

    395

    Works Quoted R. Bracht Branham-D. Kinney, Petronius. Satyrica. Edited and transl., Berkeley-Los Angeles 1997 Ch. III 3; 35; V 73; XII 17; XVI 2; 112; XVII 2; XVIII 66; XIX 22; 24; 78; XX 19; XXII 78; 89; 93; 109; App. I 3

    T. Brandis-W.W. Ehlers, Zu den Petronexzerpten des Florilegium Gallicum, “Philologus” 118, 1974, 84-112 Ch. IX 2; 3; 20

    F.E. Brenk, Aphrodite’s Girdle: No Way to Treat a Lady (Iliad 14.214-223), “CB” 54, 1977, 17-20 App. II 32; 48

    M. Brioso Sánchez, Heliodoro VI 5-11 y la crisis del ‘amigo’ en la novela, “Habis” 18-19, 1987-1988, 101-107 App. III 62

    R.D. Brown, Lucretius on Love and Sex. A Commentary on De Rerum Natura IV, 1030-1287, Text and Translation, Leiden 1987 Ch. XV 47

    M. Brozek, Notes de lecture, “Latomus” 24, 1965, 429-430 Ch. VIII 11; 60

    G. Brugnoli, Coniectanea XI-XX, “RCCM” 5, 1963, 255-265 Ch. I 9; 61; 181

    P.H. Bruneau, Deliaca (V), “BCH” 109, 1985, I, 545-567 Ch. IV 55; 58; VI 40

    F. Bücheler, Petronii Arbitri Satirarum Reliquiae, ex rec. F.B., Berolini 1862

    Ch. I 33; 113; 119; 175; 176; 189; 194; 200; 207; 219; II 14; 44; III 6; 25; V 45; 48; 61; 106; VI 14; 69; 117; VIII 71; IX 3; 20; 23; XI 46; XII 11; 48; 84; XIV 13; 15; XV 2; 9; XVI 2; 10; 14; XVII 121; XVIII 5; 15; XIX 17; 24; 28; XX 1; 3; 6; 16; 17; 20; XXII 70; 75; 113; App. II 4.

    F. Bücheler, Umbrica, Bonnae 1883 Ch. XXII 103

    V. Buchheit, Studien zum Corpus Priapeorum, München 1962 Ch. IV 109; XVIII 22

    F. Buffière, Les mythes d’Homère et la pensée grecque, Paris 1956 Ch. IX 5

    396

    Works Quoted W. Bühler, Die Europa des Moschos. Text, Übers. und Komm., Hermes Einzelschr. 13, Wiesbaden 1960 Ch. XIV 45

    P. Burman, Titi Petronii Arbitri Satyricôn quae supersunt, editio altera, I-II, Amstelaedami 1743 (repr. Hildesheim 1974) Ch. I 76; 81; 91; 113; 176; 184; 192; 200; 203; 206; 213; 221; 222; 227; II 10; 25; 35; 36; 44; III 6; 21; 32; 34; 35; 36; 37; 61; 66; IV 36; 40; 51; 54; 58; 101; 105; 124; V 12; 45; 54; 56; 58; 61; 62; 66; 72; 79; 104; VI 1; 6; 10; 18; 36; 117; VII 14; 35; VIII 23; 49; 68; 72; 79; 81; 90; IX 14; 21; 27; 29; XI 13; 45; XII 29; 30; 80; 84; XIII 14; 16; XIV 30; XV 7; 12; 55; 62; 66; XVI 2; 28; 101; XVII 121; XVIII 21; 40; 74; XIX 21; XX 17; 19; 32; 46; 60; XXI 19; 20; 33; XXII 36; 60; 61; 80; 96; App. I 4; 11; II 30

    K. Busche, Zu Petronius, “RhM” 66, 1911, 452-457 Ch. VI 25; App. I 6; 15; 23

    S.N. Byrne, Petronius and Maecenas: Seneca’s Calculated Criticism, in: Authors, Authority, and Interpretation in the Ancient Novel. Essays in Honor of Gareth L. Schmeling, Ancient Narrative, Suppl. 5, Groningen 2006, 83-111 Ch. VI 47; 48; 49; 50

    A. Cabaniss, A Footnote in the ‘Petronian Question’, “CPh” 49, 1954, 98-102 App. II 10

    A. Cabaniss, The Satyricon and the Christian Oral Tradition, “GRBS” 3, 1960, 36-39 App. II 10; 22

    P. Campana, Petronio, Satyr. 113, 8, vv. 6-8: qualche considerazione, “Hermes” 135, 2007, 113-118 Ch. XVI 27; 29; 30; 32; 79; 84; 93; 108; 112

    E. Campanile, Letture petroniane, “SIFC” 46, 1974, 41-50 Ch. V 104

    L. Canali, Petronio. Satyricon, Milano 1990

    Ch. I 187; 229; II 14; 25; 34; 40; 44; 53; III 35; VI 12; 16; VIII 3; 25; IX 29; XI 35; 40; 45; XIV 15; XVI 6; 10; 24; XVIII 5; 34; XIX 34; XX 22; XXI 23; App. I 5

    H.V. Canter, The Figure 1930, 32-41

    in Greek and Roman Poetry, “AJPh” 51,

    Ch. XIX 72

    A. Casanova, Filomela da rondine a usignolo, in: Concentus ex dissonis. Scritti in onore di Aldo Setaioli, Napoli 2006, I, 165-178 Ch. XVI 111

    397

    Works Quoted C.J. Castner, Prosopography of Roman Epicureans from the Second Century B.C. to the Second Century A.D., Frankfurt 1988 Ch XVII 123

    M.G. Cavalca, I grecismi nel Satyricon di Petronio, Bologna 2001 Ch. I 1; IV 36; V 61; VI 52; 57; 58; 71; 79; XII 2; XVI 31; 40; 111

    J.P. Cèbe, La caricature et la parodie dans le monde romain des origines à Juvenal, Paris 1966 Ch. II 5; VI 70

    G.A. Cesareo-N. Terzaghi, Petronio Arbitro. Il Romanzo Satirico. Testo crit., trad. e comm., Firenze 1950 Ch. I 187; 200; II 14; 25; 34; 44; III 25; 35; V 111; VI 13; 23; VIII 3; IX 23; 28; XII 13; 68; XV 20; 23; XVI 6; 10; 25; 111; XVII 121; XVIII 5; XIX 34; XX 2; 13; 16; 22; 42; XXI 23; 40; XXII 19; 72; 85; App. I 5; II 8

    E. Champlin, The Life and Time of Calpurnius Siculus, “JRS” 68, 1978, 95-110

    Ch. XV 50

    V. Ciaffi, Struttura del Satyricon, Torino 1955

    Ch. I 3; III 1; VIII 11; 12; 28; IX 21; XVI 26; 31; XVIII 37; XXI 7; XXII 72; 96; App. II 4

    V. Ciaffi, Fulgenzio e Petronio, Torino 1963 Ch. IX 24

    V. Ciaffi, Satyricon di Petronio, Torino 19672

    Ch. I 200; III 25; VI 12; 16; 70; VIII 3; 12; XII 10; XVI 6; 10; 24; XVII 121; XVIII 5; 34; XIX 17; 34; XX 22; XXII 72; 85; App. I 5; II 64

    C. Cichorius, Petronius und Massilia, in: Id., Römische Studien. Historisches, Epigraphisches, Literaturgeschichtliches aus vier Jahrhunderten Roms, Leipzig 1922, 438-442 Ch. XVIII 70

    L. Cicu, Problemi e strutture del mimo a Roma, Sassari 1988 Ch. VI 71

    L. Cicu, Donne petroniane. Personaggi femminili e tecniche di racconto nel Satyricon di Petronio, Sassari 1992 (1992a)

    Ch. III 35; 65

    L. Cicu, Componere mimum (Petr. sat. 117,4), “Sandalion” 15, 1992, 103-141 (1992b) Ch. VI 65; VIII 39; X 28; XXI 25

    398

    Works Quoted M. Citroni, M. Valerii Martialis Epigrammaton liber primus. Introd., testo, appar. crit. e comm., Firenze 1975 Ch. II 28; III 33; XIV 21; XVII 69; 79; 139; App. I 63

    M. Citroni, Un’espressione proverbiale in Petronio (67.10), “Prometheus” 9, 1983, 247-256 Ch. VI 86

    M. Citroni, Produzione letteraria e forme del potere. Gli scrittori latini nel primo secolo dell’impero, in: E. Gabba-A. Schiavone (eds.), Storia di Roma. II L’impero mediterraneo. 3 La cultura e l’impero, Torino 1992, 383-490 Ch. X 16

    E. Cizek, À propos des premiers chapitres du Satyricon, “Latomus” 34, 1975, 197-202 (1975a) Ch. I 68

    E. Cizek, Face à face éloquent. Encolpe et Agamemnon, “PP” 30, 1975, 91-101 (1975b) Ch. I 68

    M. Coccia, Le interpolazioni in Petronio, Roma 1973 Ch. XVIII 86; 99; XIX 35

    M. Coccia, Novae simplicitatis opus (Petronio 132, 15, 2), in: Studi di poesia latina in onore di A Traglia, Roma 1979, II, 789-799 Ch. XVII 38; 52; 50; 69; XIX 25; 35; 36; 38; 48; 54

    C. Codoñer, Lexique du «sacré» et réalités religieuses chez Pétrone, “RPh” 63, 1989, 47-59 Ch. XXII 50

    C. Codoñer, El lenguaje de la crítica literaria en el Satyricon, in: Latin vulème gaire-latin tardif II. Actes du II Colloque intern. sur le latin vulgaire et tardif (Bologne 29 Août-2 Sept. 1988), Tübingen 1990, 57-74 Ch. I 62 ; 207 ; 208

    M. Coffey, Roman Satire, London-New York 1976 Ch. I 5; XVIII 42; App. III 18

    A. Collignon, Étude sur Pétrone. La critique littéraire, l’imitation et la parodie dans le Satiricon, Paris 1892

    399

    Works Quoted Ch. I 1; 2; 9; 24; 26; 38; 61; 63; 96; 113; 202; 207; 224; IV 36; VI 27; 32; 55; 73; 100; VIII 39; XI 7; 19; XII 25; 68; XIV 3; XVI 1; XVII 2; 5; 23; 24; XVIII 44; XIX 38; 39; XX 66; App. I 43

    C. Connors, Petronius the poet. Verse and literary tradition in the Satyricon, Cambridge 1998 Intr. 2; 3; 12; 16; 20; 22; 34; 39; Ch. I 28; 71; 96; IV 15; 76; V 8; 64; 73; 104; VI 11; 14; 29; 32; 56; 59; 75; 109; VII 1; 36; VIII 17; 39; 53; 55; 62; 83; X 2; XI 11; 45; XII 17; 53; 59; XIII 3; XIV 13; 15; 41; 45; 46; 57; XVI 6; 19; 110; XVII 3; XVIII 38; XIX 88; XX 50; 70; XXI 5; XXII 34; 47; 54; 71; 81; App. I 16

    G.B. Conte, The Hidden Author. An Interpretation of Petronius’ Satyricon. Transl. by E. Fantham, Berkeley-Los Angeles-London 1996 Ch. I 48; IV 7; 15; VI 56; 74; 100; 107; VIII 2; 6; 11; 28; 30; 47; 67; 73; XIV 3; XVII 13; 14; 16; 37; 42; 124; XVIII 32; 42

    C. Corbato, Da Menandro a Caritone. Studi sulla genesi del romanzo greco e i suoi rapporti con la commedia nuova, “Quaderni Triestini sul Teatro Antico” 1, 1968, 5-44 App. III 107

    P. Cosci, Per una ricostruzione della scena iniziale del Satyricon, “MD” 1, 1978, 201-207 Ch. I 5; 8

    E. Courtney, Parody and Literary Allusion in Menippean satire, “Philologus” 106, 1962, 86-100 Ch. XVIII 47; 107; App. III 43; 62; 87; 92; 131

    E. Courtney, Some Passages of Petronius, “BICS” 17, 1970, 65-69 Ch. I 75; 113; 119; 227; XIV 15; 23; 27

    E. Courtney, Problems in the Text of Petronius, “Eranos” 86, 1988, 74-76 Ch. XVIII 34

    E. Courtney, The Poems of Petronius, Atlanta 1991

    Intr. 1; 11; 44; Ch. II 13; 16; 26; 29; 37; 44; III 10; 35; 61; IV 36; 39; 56; 60; 61; 76; 96; 105; VI 11; 25; 32; 33; 34; 42; 56; 75; 95; 96; 117; 120; 121; VII 9; 14; VIII 3; 14; 15; 21; 59; 81; 88; IX 23; 24; X 4; XI 8; 35; 39; 45; XII 17; 58; 84; 105; XIII 3; 29; 31; 33; XIV 13; 15; 23; 41; XV 4; 6; 7; 13; 17; 20; 48; XVI 6; 10; 25; 31; 32; XVII 2; 15; 53; XVIII 21; 33; 34; 36; 73; 88; 104; 107; XIX 19; 24; 28; 29; 44; 85; XX 2; 16; 24; 32; 42; 43; 44; 45; 50; XXI 35; 56; XXII 54; 71; 74; 91; 97; App. I 14; 22; 42

    E Courtney, Two Notes on Petronius, “MD” 40, 1998, 205-207 Ch. XXI 56

    400

    Works Quoted E. Courtney, A Companion to Petronius, Oxford-New York 2001

    Ch. I 5; 28; 75; 112: 113; III 1; V 44; 104; 109; VI 56; 65; 75; 85; 95; XII 22; 105; XIII 13; XVI 31; 32; 66; XVII 2; 15; XVIII 42; 73; 77; 93; 104; 107; 109; XX 55; 58; 70; 79; XXI 50; 56

    L. Cristante, Reposiani Concubitus Martis et Veneris, Roma 1999 Ch. XVI 95 ; 96

    M.E. Crogliano, Escena de seducción frustrada: del Odiseo homérico al Encolpio-Polieno petroniano, in: J. Nagore (ed.), Estrategias intertextuales en la narrativa latina: el Satyricon de Petronio, Buenos Aires 2003, 121-133 (2003a) Ch. XIV 3

    M.E. Crogliano, Impotencia, parodia y poética (cap. 132), in: J. Nagore (ed.), Estrategias intertextuales en la narrativa latina: el Satyricon de Petronio, Buenos Aires 2003, 143-151 (2003b) Ch. IV 80; XVII 2

    J.A. Crook, “Si parret” and a Joke in Petronius, in: Sodalitas. Scritti in onore di Antonio Guarino, Napoli 1984, III, 1353-1356 Ch. XXII 100; 111

    O. Crusius, Elegie, “RE” V 2, 1905, 2260-2307 Ch. XXII 21

    P. Cugusi, Nota petroniana (Sat. 93, 2, v. 4), “RCCM” 9, 1967, 86-94 Ch. I 45; 61; 175; 181; IV 25; V 48; 57; 64; 104; VI 20; XII 25; 68

    R. Curtius, Europäische Literatur und lateinisches Mittelalter, Bern 1948 (19789) Ch. XV 63; XVI 6; 10; 24; 50; 59; 105

    R. Cutolo, L’epigramma Anth. Lat. 218 R. attribuito a Petronio, “Vichiana” N.S. 15, 1986, 58-73 Ch. IV 83; XIII 10

    A. Cyron, Quid hoc novi est? Das Priapeum 83 B. und Petrons Satyricon, “Philologus” 150, 2006, 102-114 Ch. XVIII 51

    H. Dahlmann, Ein Gedicht des Apuleius? (Gell. 19, 11), “Abhandl. Akad. d. Wissensch. u. d. Liter. Mainz” 1979, 8, Wiesbaden 1979 Ch. VII 19; 21; 25; 30; 34

    401

    Works Quoted G.B. D’Alessio, Note al nuovo Archiloco (POxy LXIX 4708), “ZPE” 156, 2006, 19-22 Ch. XVIII 35

    L. Debray, Pétrone et le droit privé romain, “Nouvelle Revue Historique du Droit Français et Étranger” 43, 1919, 5-70; 127-186 Ch. II 9; 43; 48; XXII 93; 95; 109

    H. (= E.) Degani, Hipponactis Testimonia et Fragmenta, Leipzig 1983 App. II 56; 59; 60; 64

    R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, Tra filosofia e poesia. Studi su Seneca e dintorni, Bologna 1999 Ch. XXII 62

    P.J. Dehon, Une parodie de Sénèque chez Pétrone (Satiricon CIX, 9, sp. 1-2), “REL” 71, 1993, 33-36 Ch. XII 68

    P.J. Dehon, A Skillful Petronian Simile: frigidior rigente bruma (Sat. 132.8.5), “CQ” N.S. 51, 2001, 315-318 Ch. IV 115; 118; 119

    A. Dell’Era, Il nido nel paiolo (Publ. Syr. in Petr. Sat. 55, 4 v. 8), “RCCM” 37, 1995, 283-284 Ch. VI 9; 70

    J. Delz, Review of Müller 1961, “Gnomon” 34, 1962, 676-684 Ch. XVIII 33; XIX 17

    W. Deonna-M. Renard, Croyances et superstitions de table dans la Rome antique, Bruxelles 1961 Ch. V 7

    I. (= G.) Devoto, Tabulae Iguvinae, Romae 19542 Ch. XXII 104

    G. Devoto, Avviamento all’etimologia italiana. Dizionario etimologico, Firenze 19682

    App. I 32

    P. Di Leo, La poesia in Petr. Sat. 82.5: precedenti poetici e diatribici, “Prometheus” 27, 2001, 145-148 Ch. IX 13

    402

    Works Quoted R. Dimundo, L’episodio di Circe e Polieno alla luce dei modelli epico-elegiaci (Petr. 126), “Euphrosyne” N.S. 26, 1998, 49-79 Ch. XIII 16; 17; 24; 27

    M. Di Simone, I fallimenti di Encolpio, tra esemplarità mitica e modelli letterari: una ricostruzione (Sat. 82, 5; 132, 1), “MD” 30, 1993, 87-108 Ch. VII 23; IX 20; 21; XV 12; 45; 47

    E.R. Dodds, A Fragment of a Greek Novel (P. Mich. inv. no. 5), in: Studies in Honor of Gilbert Norwood, Toronto 1952, 133-137 Ch. XIX 41

    F.J. Dölger, Beiträge zur Geschichte des Kreuzzeichens, “JbAC” 1, 1958, 5-19; 2, 1959, 15-29 App. II 23; 24

    A.T. Drago, Aristeneto. Lettere d’amore. Introd., testo e comm., Lecce 2007 Ch. VII 24; XVI 57; 89; 103

    P. Dronke, Medieval Latin and the Rise of European Lyric, I-II, London 19682 Ch. VII 38; XVI 42

    K.M.D. Dunbabin, Sic erimus cuncti… The Skeleton in Greco-Roman Art, “JDAI” 101, 1986, 185-255 Ch. V 9; 12; 15; 17; 20; 23; 24; 25; 26; 31; 32; 34; 39; 40; 41; 43; 52; 56; 96

    E. Dutoit, Le thème de l’adynaton dans la poésie antique, Paris 1936 Ch. XIX 73; 76; 77

    F. Eckstein-J.W. Waszink, Amulett, “RLAC” 1, 1950, 397-411 App. II 69

    A. Ernout, Pétrone. Le Satiricon. Texte ét. et trad., Paris 1923

    Ch. I 78; 186; 200; 219; 229; 231; II 14; 25; 34; 44; III 3; 35; 47; 66; V 24; 58; VI 13; 16; 40; VIII 3; 84; IX 3; 20; 27; 28; XI 35; 40; 45; XII 12; XIV 18; XV 8; XVI 6; 10; 25; XVII 121; XVIII 5; XIX 17; 22; 24; 78; XX 2; 16; 22; 32; 42; 88; XXI 23; XXII 19; 72; 85; App. I 8; II 68

    C. Facchini Tosi, Forma e suono in Apuleio, “Vichiana” 15, 1986, 98-168 App. I 74

    C.A. Faraone, Aphrodite’s and Apples for Atalanta: Aphrodisiacs in Early Greek Myth and Ritual, “Phoenix” 44, 1990, 219-243 App. II 32; 36; 43; 48; 52

    P. Fedeli, Petronio: Crotone o il mondo alla rovescia, “Aufidus” 1, 1987, 3-34 403

    Works Quoted Ch. VII 32

    P. Fedeli, La degradazione del modello (Circe e Polieno in Petronio vs Circe e Odisseo in Omero), “Lexis” 1, 1988, 67-79 Ch. IV 64; VIII 67; XII 7; XIV 8; 49; 65; App. II 54

    P. Fedeli, Il gesto negato. Petronio 132, 8 e la scelta del silenzio, in: Mnemosynum. Studi in onore di Alfredo Ghiselli, Bologna 1989, 207-220 Ch. IV 75; 80; 81; 98; XVII 67

    J.M.H. Fernhout, Ad Apulei Madaurensis librum quintum commentarius exegeticus, Diss. Groningen, Medioburgi 1949 App. I 49

    M.G. Ferrari, Aspetti di letterarietà nei ‘Florida’ di Apuleio, “SIFC” 40, 1968, 85-147; 41, 1969, 139-187 App. I 74; 75

    A.M. Ferrero, La simplicitas nell’età Giulio-Claudia, “AAT” 114, 1980, 127154 Ch. XVII 41; 42; 53;61

    A.-J. Festugière, La révélation d’Hermès Trismégiste. I. L’astrologie et les sciences occultes, Paris 1950 (repr. 1986) App. II 39

    G. Fiaccadori, Priapo in Egitto (Petronio, Sat. CXXXIII 3), “PP” 36, 1981, 373378 XVIII 4; 8; 11

    G.C. Fiske, Lucilius and Persius, “TAPhA” 40, 1909, 121-150 Ch. I 1; 26

    E. Flores, Petronio e lo schedium Lucilianae humilitatis, in: Prosimetrum e Spoudogeloion, Genova 1982, 63-82 Ch. I 1; 8; 17; 21; 28; 30; 44; 61; 71; 166; 177; 189

    G. Focardi, A proposito di Petr. Sat. 15, 2: un’allusione giuridica in advocati… nocturni?, “Sileno” 14, 1986, 57-72 Ch. III 1

    A. Franzoi, Copa. L’Ostessa. Poemetto pseudovirgiliano. Introd., testo crit. e comm., Padova 1988 Ch. V 59

    404

    Works Quoted A. Franzoi, Quieta Venus. Il Priapeo 83 Büch. Introd., testo crit. e comm., Napoli 1998 Ch. XVIII 51

    P. Frassinetti, Explanationes ad Porcium Licinum, Petronium et Minucium Felicem, “Athenaeum” N.S. 32, 1954, 384-392 Ch. VI 3

    L. Friedlaender, Petronii Cena Trimalchionis, mit deutscher Übers. u. erklärenden Anmerk., Leipzig 1891 (19062) Ch. V 24; 48; VI 9; 74; 93

    W.H. Friedrich, Beiträge aus der Thesaurus-Arbeit, II, “Philologus” 90, 1935, 495-498

    Ch. I 74; 113

    F.M. Fröhlke, Petron. Struktur und Wirklichkeit. Bausteine zu einer Poetik des antiken Romans, Frankfurt-Bern 1977 Ch. II 8; XI 7; XXII 22; App. III 136

    H. Fuchs, Zum Petrontext, “Philologus” 93, 1938, 157-175 Ch. I 37; 79; 113; 221; 227

    H. Fuchs, Verderbnisse im Petrontext, in: H. Dahlmann-R. Merkelbach (eds.), Studien zur Textgeschichte und Textkritik, Köln 1959, 57-82 Ch. XX 12

    R. Funari, C. Sallusti Crispi Historiarum Fragmenta. Edidit commentarioque instruxit R.F., I-II, Amsterdam 1996 Ch. XV 49

    D. Gagliardi, Il comico in Petronio (continuità e trasformazione di una categoria), “Vichiana” 7, 1978, 110-116 Ch. XVII 39

    D. Gagliardi, Il comico in Petronio, Palermo 1980 Ch. VI 56; 64; 75; 98; XII 68; XVII 2; 39

    D. Gagliardi, Eumolpo o dell’ambiguità, “Orpheus” N.S. 2, 1981, 360-365 Ch. X 3

    D. Gagliardi, Il tema della morte nella ‘Cena’ petroniana, Orpheus” N.S. 10, 1989, 13-25 Ch. V 6; 7; 57; 106; 109

    405

    Works Quoted L. Galli, Meeting again. Some Observations on Petronius Satyricon 100 and the Greek Novels, in: H. Hofmann-M. Zimmerman (eds.), Groningen Colloquia on the Novel 7, 1996, 33-54 App. III 22; 135

    G.G. Gamba, Petronio Arbitro e i Cristiani. Ipotesi per una lettura contestuale del Satyricon, Roma 1998 App. II 6

    I.M. Garrido, Note on Petronius’ Satyricon 135, “CR” 44, 1930, 10-11 Ch. XX 66

    F. Giancotti, Mimo e gnome. Studio su Dec. Laberio e Publilio Siro, MessinaFirenze 1967 Ch. VI 29; 55; 56; 62; 66; 72; 76; 88; 99; 105

    I.C. (= G.) Giardina-R. Cuccioli Melloni, Petronii Arbitri Satyricon. Recogn. et emend. I.C.G. et R.C.M., Augustae Taurinorum 1995 Ch. I 200; 219; 225; II 26; VIII 3; 84; XII 16; XIII 31; XVI 6; 10; XVII 121; 133; XIX 24; XX 2; 16; 20; 42; XXI 32; XXII 19; 71

    M. Gigante, Civiltà delle forme letterarie nell’antica Pompei, Napoli 1979 Ch. XIII 10

    V. Gigante, Stile nuovo ed etica anticonvenzionale in Petronio, “Vichiana” 9, 1980, 61-78 Ch. XVII 38; 50; 64; 121; 123; 124; 141

    C. Gill, The Sexual Episodes in the Satyricon, “CPh” 68, 1973, 172-185 Ch. XVII 3; 4

    P.J. Goar, The Legend of Cato Uticensis from the First Century B.C. to the Fifth Century A.D., Bruxelles 1987 Ch. XVII 37

    A.S.F. Gow-D.L. Page, The Greek Anthology. The Garland of Philip and some Contemporary Epigrams. I. Introd., Text and Transl., Index of Sources and Epigrammatists. II. Commentary and Indexes, Cambridge 1968 Ch. IV 96

    V. Grassmann, Die erotischen Epoden des Horaz. Literarischer Hintergrund und sprachliche Tradition, München 1966 Ch. XVII 65

    406

    Works Quoted M. Grondona, La religione e la superstizione nella Cena Trimalchionis, Bruxelles 1980 Ch. V 6; 7; 8; 52; 54

    G. Guido, Petronio Arbitro. Dal ‘Satyricon’. Il ‘Bellum civle’. Testo, trad. e comm., Bologna 1976 Ch. XV 39; 40

    P. Habermehl, Petronius, Satyrica 74-141. Ein philologisch-literarischer Kommentar. Band I: Sat. 79-110, Berlin-New York 2006 Intr. 4; Ch. III 17; VI 15; 18; 35; 53; 100; 114; 115; 117; 118; 119; 121; 123; VII 38; VIII 4; 14; 18; 53; 77; 81; 84; IX 5; 13; 16; 20; 27; X 2; 10; 13; 18; 29; XI 1; 7; 35; 37; 39; 40; 45; XII 2; 4; 17; 46; 52; 67; 82; 88; 89; 95; 105; XVIII 101; App. I 6; III 18; 47; 58; 74; 76; 91; 93; 98; 101; 102; 105; 120; 135

    T. Hägg, The Novel in Antiquity, Oxford 1983 App. III 18

    J. Hamacher, Florilegium Gallicum. Prolegomena und Edition der Exzerpte von Petron bis Cicero, De oratore, Frankfurt 1975 Ch. II 3; 41; VI 14; IX 3; 20; XII 80; XV 20; 23; XXII 77; 79

    A. Hardie, Statius and the Silvae. Poets, Patrons and Epideixis in the GrecoRoman World, Liverpool 1983 Ch. X 16

    S. Harrison, Some Problems in the Text of Petronius, in: Petroniana. Gedenkschrift für Herbert Petersmann, Heidelberg 2003, 127-137 Ch. I 227; VIII 11; 70; XX 8; XXI 1

    P. Haß, Der locus amoenus in der antiken Literatur: Zu Theorie und Geschichte eines literarischen Motivs, Bamberg 1998 Ch. XVI 2; 32; 44; 45; 47; 89; 110

    E. Hauler, Die in Ciceros Galliana erwähnten convivia poetarum et philosophorum, “WS” 27, 1905, 95-105 Ch. VI 65; 69

    R. Heinze, Petron und der griechische Roman, “Hermes” 34, 1899, 494-519 (= R. Heinze, Vom Geist des Römertums, Stuttgart 19603, 417-439) Ch. XVIII 42; 45; 48; 73; 79; 104; App. III 16; 17; 23; 24; 43; 45; 60; 63; 131

    K. Heldmann, Antike Theorien über Entwicklung und Verfall der Redekunst, München 1982 Ch. I 49; 64

    407

    Works Quoted R. Helm, Lucian und Menipp, Leipzig und Berlin 1906 Ch. VIII 29; 30; 31; 35; 40; XV 63; App. I 66

    R. Helm, Der antike Roman, Göttingen 19562 App. III 12

    R. Helm, Nachaugusteische nichtchristliche Dichter, “Lustrum” 1, 1956, 121319 Ch. XVII 121

    J. Henderson, The Maculate Muse. Obscene Language in Attic Comedy, New York-Oxford 19912 App. II 60

    M. Hendry, Eumolpus contra calvos, “PSN” 23, 1993, 7-9 Ch. XII 80; 105; App. I 15

    W.B. Henry, Archilochus, P.Oxy. 4708 fr. 1.18-21, “ZPE” 157, 2006, 14 Ch. XVIII 35

    W. Heraeus, Kleine Schriften, zum 75. Geburtstag am 4 Dezember 1937, Heidelberg 1937 Ch. VI 52; XXII 99

    H. Herter, De Priapo, Giessen 1932 Ch. XVIII 16; 61; 73; 107

    R. Herzog, Fest, Terror und Tod in Petrons Satyrica, in: W. Haug-R. Warning (eds.), Das Fest, München 1989, 120-150 Ch. V 6

    M. Heseltine, Petronius, with an Engl. Transl by M.H. Seneca. Apocolocyntosis, with an Engl. Transl. by W.H.D. Rouse, London-Cambridge, Mass. 1913 Ch. I 78; 113; 154; 186; 200; 209; 210; 231; II 14; 25; 37; 44; III 35; 66; VI 9; 13; 71; VII 38; VIII 3; XI 35; 38; 42; 45; XII 10; XIV 18; 39; XV 12; XVI 2; 10; 15; XVIII 66; XIX 34; XX 2; 16; 19; 22; 42; XXII 19; 71; 81; 89; App. I 7; II 30

    G. Highet, Petronius the Moralist, “TAPhA” 72, 1941, 176-194 Ch. XVII 40; 123

    O. Hiltbrunner, Simplicitas. Eine Begriffsgeschichte, in : Id., Latina Graeca. Semasiologische Studien über lateinische Wörter im Hinblick auf ihr Verhältnis zu griechischen Vorbilder, Bern 1958, 15-105 Ch. XVII 42; 45; 51; 54; 57; 59; 89

    J.B. Hofmann, La lingua d’uso latina, a cura di L. Ricottilli, Bologna 1980 408

    Works Quoted Ch. II 31; V 77

    A.S. Hollis, Ovid. Metamorphoses Book VII. Edited with Introd. and Comm., Oxford 1970 Ch. XX 68

    A.S. Hollis, Callimachus. Hecale. Edited with Introd. and Comm., Oxford 1990 Ch. XX 25; 68

    N. Holzberg, Der antike Roman. Eine Einführung, München-Zürich 1986 App. III 18

    Th. Hopfner, App. II 65; 67

    , “RE” XIII 1, 1926, 747-769

    Th. Hopfner, Griechisch-Ägyptischer Offenbarungszauber, I, Amsterdam 19742 (Leipzig 19211) App. II 65; 67

    A.A. Housman, M. Annaei Lucani Belli civilis libri decem. Editorum in usum edidit A.A.H., Oxford 1926 (repr. 1970) Ch. XIII 32

    V. Hunink, Apuleius of Madauros. Florida. Edited with a Comm., Amsterdam 2001 App. I 74

    H.H. Huxley, ‘Marked Literary Inferiority’ in the Poems of the Satyricon, “CJ” 66, 1970-1971, 69-70 Ch. V 66; 73

    J.D.D. Ingersoll, Roman Satire: Its Early Name?, “CPh” 7, 1912, 59-65 Ch. I 1

    O. Jahn, Über den Aberglauben des bösen Blickes, “Ber. ü. d. Verhandl. d. kgl. sächs. Ges. d. Wiss. zu Leipzig”, phil.-hist. Kl. 7, 1855, 28-100 App. II 12; 14; 56; 64

    O. Jahn, Wie wurden die Oden des Horatius vorgetragen?, “Hermes” 2, 1867, 418-435 Ch. V 61

    G. Jensson, The Recollections of Encolpius. The Satyrica of Petronius as Milesian Fiction, Groningen 2004 Ch. II 5; V 44; 105; VI 86; VIII 11; XI 1; XVIII 30; 42; 47; 48; 59; 66; 71; 72; 108; XXII 17

    409

    Works Quoted A.H.M. Jones, The Criminal Courts of the Roman Republic and Principate, Oxford 1972 Ch. II 51

    G. Kaibel, Epigrammata Graeca ex lapidibus conlecta, Berolini 1878 Ch. V 47; 49; 106

    D. Kaimakis, Die Kyraniden, Meisenheim am Glan 1976 App. II 39

    F. Kämpfer, Wie die Alten das Gerippe gebildet. Von Lessing zu Petronius und wieder zurück bis in die Gegenwart, “Laverna” 5, 1994, 232-252 Ch. V 25

    N.M. Kay, Martial Book XI. A Commentary, London 1985 Ch. XVII 66; 68; 136

    K. Keil, Zum Corpus Inscriptionum Graecarum, “RhM” 20, 1865, 533-569 Ch. V 47

    J.M. Kelly, Roman Litigation, Oxford 1966

    Ch. II 10

    G. Kennedy, Encolpius and Agamemnon in Petronius, “AJPh” 99, 1978, 171178

    Ch. I 54; 65

    K. Kerényi, Die griechisch-orientalische Romanliteratur in religionsgeschichtlicher Beleuchtung, Tübingen 1927 App. III 135

    W.H. Keulen, Apuleius Madaurensis Metamorphoses. Book I, 1-20. Introd., Text, Comm., Groningen 2003 App. I 55; 57; 60

    W. Kissel, Petrons Kritik der Rhetorik (Sat. 1-5), “RhM” 121, 1978, 311-328

    Ch. I 37; 51; 59; 61; 66; 68; 73; 75; 90; 102; 112; 113; 119; 123; 146; 154; 167; 173; 176; 200; 207; 218; 219; 222; 227; XVII 108

    W. Kissel, Aules Persius Flaccus. Satiren. Hrsg., übers. u. komm., Heidelberg 1990 App. II 12; 13; 14; 18; 56; 64

    E. Klebs, Zur Composition von Petronius Satirae, “Philologus” 47, 1889, 623635

    410

    Works Quoted Intr. 48; Ch. IV 106; XVIII 37; 66; 69; 85; App. III 64

    H. Kleinknecht, Die Gebetsparodie in der Antike, Stuttgart 1937 Ch. XVIII 13

    B. Kötting, Böser Blick, “RLAC” 2, 1954, 473-482 App. II 12

    P. Kragelund, Epicurus, Priapus and the Dreams in Petronius, “CQ” N.S. 39, 1989, 436-450 Ch. XV 13; 43; 46; 48; 54; App. III 136

    W. Kroll, Petronius (29), “RE” XIX 1, 1937, 1201-1214 App. III 18

    H. Kuch, Gattungstheoretische Überlegungen zum antiken Roman, “Philologus” 129, 1985, 3-19 App. III 12; 14

    R. Kühner-C. Stegmann, Ausführliche Grammatik der lateinischen Sprache, II, Hannover 1971 Ch. III 44; V 67

    F. Kuhnert, Fascinum, “RE” VI 2, 1909, 2009-2014 App. II 12; 14; 56; 64

    M. Labate, Eumolpo e gli altri, ovvero lo spazio della poesia, “MD” 34, 1995, 153-175 (1995a) Ch. X 4; 32; XII 22

    M. Labate, Petronio ‘Satyricon’ 80-81, “MD” 35, 1995, 165-175 (1995b) Ch. VIII 2; 10; 11; 12; 13; 27; 28; 69; 81

    G. La Bua, L’inno nella letteratura poetica latina. Pref. di L. Gamberale, San Severo 1999 Ch. XVIII 12; 21; 64

    L. Landolfi, Rileggendo Petron. Sat. 133, 3, in: L. Castagna-E. Lefèvre (eds.), Studien zu Petron und seiner Rezeption. Studi su Petronio e sulla sua fortuna, Berlin-New York 2007, 197-212 Ch. XVIII 15; 69; 89

    L. Landolfi, Capillorum elegidarion (Petr. Sat. 109, 9-10), forthcoming Ch. XII 2; 22; 25; 28; 39; 44; 55; 58; 73; 75; 89; App. I 80

    411

    Works Quoted A. La Penna, L’intellettuale emarginato in Orazio e Petronio, in: Il comportamento dell’intellettuale nella società antica, Genova 1980, 67-91 Ch. X 24; 30

    A. La Penna, L’intellettuale emarginato nell’antichità, “Maia” N.S. 42, 1990, 320 Ch. X 24

    H. Latte, Hipponacteum, “Hermes” 64, 1929, 385-388 App. II 60

    R. Lattimore, Themes in Greek and Latin Epitaphs, Urbana 1942 Ch. V 53; 75

    F. Leo, Coniectanea, “Hermes” 38, 1903, 305-312 Ch. IX 3; 15

    G.E. Lessing, Come gli antichi rappresentavano la morte, Ital. transl., Palermo 1983 (Wie die Alten den Tod gebildet, 1769) Ch. V 18; 27

    F. Létoublon, La lettre dans le roman grec ou les liaisons dangereuses, in: S. Panayotakis-M. Zimmerman-W. Keulen (eds.), The Ancient Novel and Beyond, Leiden-Boston 2003, 271-288 App. III 184

    H. Leumann-J.B. Hofmann-A. Szantyr, Lateinische Grammatik. II. Lateinische Syntax und Stilistik, München 1965 Ch. II 31; III 44; XIII 33; XX 7

    M. Leumann, Lateinische Laut- und Formenlehre, München 19776 Ch. VII 14

    B. Lier, Topica carminum sepulcralium Latinorum, “Philologus” 62, 1903, 445477; 563-603; 63, 1904, 54-65 Ch. V 53; 75

    P. Liviabella, Strategie macro-retoriche della comunicazione nel romanzo di Eliodoro, forthcoming App. III 62

    E. Löfstedt, Vermischte Beiträge zur lateinischen Sprachkunde, “Eranos” 8, 1908, 85-116 Ch. XV 32

    412

    Works Quoted E. Löfstedt, Syntactica. Studien und Beiträge zur historischen Syntax des Lateins, I-II, Lund 1933 Ch. II 31

    H. van der Loos, The Miracles of Jesus, Leiden 1965 App. II 9; 18; 19; 21; 56

    M. Loporcaro, Il proemio di Eumolpo. Petronio, Satyricon 83, 10, “Maia” N.S. 36, 1984, 255-261 Ch. X 2; 3

    G. Luck, Arcana Mundi. Magia e occulto nel mondo greco e romano. I. Magia, miracoli, demonologia, Ital. transl., Milano-Roma 1997 App. II 10; 49

    H. Ludwig, Platons Kuß und seine Folgen, “ICS” 14, 1989, 435-447 Ch. VII 19

    S. Lundström, Reminiszenzen an Properz bei Petron, “Hum. Vetensk.Samfundet i Uppsala”, Årsbok 1967-1968, 69-97 Ch. VII 9; 11

    W. Luppe, Zum neuen Archilochos (P.Oxy. 4708), “ZPE” 155, 2006, 1-4 Ch. XVIII 35

    S. MacAlister, Dreams and Suicides. The Greek Novel from Antiquity to the Byzantine Empire, London 1996 App. III 135

    H. MacL. Currie, Locus amoenus, “Comparative Literature” 12, 1960, 94-95 Ch. XVI 6; 10; 25; 107

    E. Magnelli, On the New Fragments of Greek Poetry from Oxyrhynchus, “ZPE” 158, 2006, 9-12 Ch. XVIII 35

    A. Maiuri, La Cena di Trimalchione di Petronio Arbitro. Saggio, testo e comm., Napoli 1945 Ch. V 15; VI 31; 65; 94; 99; 105

    C. Mangoni, Filodemo. Il quinto libro della Poetica (PHerc. 1425 e 1538). Ediz., trad. e comm., Napoli 1993 Ch. XVII 126

    413

    Works Quoted A. Marbach, Wortbildung, Wortwahl und Wortbedeutung als Mittel des Charakterzeichnung bei Petron, Diss. Giessen 1931 Ch. IV 36; XII 2; 4

    C. Marchesi, Petronio, Roma 1921 Ch. VI 75

    : possibile denominazione per il romanzo d’amore, “SIFC” N. Marini, 84, 1991, 232-242 App. III 109

    I. Mariotti, Studi luciliani, Firenze 1960 Ch. I 1

    E.V. Marmorale, Petronii Arbitri Cena Trimalchionis. Testo crit. e comm., Firenze 1947, Ch. V 106; VI 8; 31; 74

    E.V. Marmorale, La questione petroniana, Bari 1948 Ch. I 176; VI 19; XVII 112

    G. Maselli, La rissa a bordo: strategia narrativa in Petronio, Satyricon 108, 2109, 7, “Annali della Facoltà di Lingue e Letterature Straniere”, Università di Bari, III 7, 1-2, 1986, 283-297 Ch. XI 14; 15; 22; 37

    S. Mattiacci, I frammenti dei ‘poetae novelli’. Introd., testo crit., trad. e comm., Roma 1982 Ch. XVI 5

    S. Mattiacci, L’odarium dell’amico di Gellio e la poesia novella, in: V. Tandoi (ed.), Disiecti membra poetae. Studi di poesia latina in frammenti, III, Foggia 1988, 194-208 Ch. VII 19; 43

    S. Mattiacci, I carmi e i frammenti di Tiberiano. Introd., ed. crit., trad. e comm., Firenze 1990 Ch. XVI 2; 10; 51; 59; 64; 106; 109

    C. Mazzilli, Vera redit facies, assimulata perit (Sat. 80, 9 v. 8): intertestualità e critica del testo, “Aufidus” 20 (59-60), 2006, 29-53 Ch. VIII 11; 53; 64; 75

    G. Mazzoli, Eumolpo multimediale, in: C. Santini-L. Zurli (eds.), Ars narrandi. Scritti di narrativa antica in memoria di Luigi Pepe, Napoli 1996, 33-53

    414

    Works Quoted Ch. X 21; XII 25; 45

    M.H. McDermott, The Satyricon as a Parody of the Odyssey and Greek Romance, “LCM” 8, 6, 1983, 82-85 Ch. XVIII 38; 65

    J.M. McMahon, A Petronian Parody at Sat. 14, 2-14, 3, “Mnemosyne” IV 50, 1997, 77-81 Ch. II 20

    J.M. McMahon, Paralysin cave. Impotence, Perception, and the Text in the Satyrica of Petronius, Leiden-New York-Köln 1998 Ch. XIX 24; XXI 10; 17; 35; App. II 40; 53; 59; 60

    C. Meillier, Callimaque (P.L. 76d, 78abc, 79, 82, 84, 11c). Stésichore ( ?) (P.L. 76abc), “CRIPEL” 4, 1976, 257-360 Ch. XXI 8

    C.W. Mendell, Petronius and the Greek Romance, “CPh” 12, 1917, 158-172 App. III 15; 25; 29

    R. Merkelbach, Roman und Mysterium in der Antike, München-Berlin 1962 App. III 135; 152

    R. Merkelbach, Fragment eines satirischen Romans: Aufforderung zur Beichte, “ZPE” 11, 1973, 81-100 Ch. IV 1; 11; 76; XVIII 73; 86; 89; 103; 104

    R. Merkelbach-M.L. West, Ein Archilochos-Papyrus, “ZPE” 14, 1974, 97-113 Ch. XIV 62

    R. du Mesnil du Buisson, Le sautoir d’Atargatis et la chaîne d’amulettes, Leiden 1947 App. II 32

    P. Migliorini, Scienza e terminologia medica nella letteratura latina dell’età neroniana. Seneca, Lucano, Persio, Petronio, Frankfurt 1997 Ch. XVIII 112

    F. Millar, The Fiscus in the First Two Centuries, “JRS” 53, 1963, 29-42 Ch. XV 50

    Th. Mommsen, Römisches Staatsrecht, III.1, Leipzig 1887 Ch. II 52

    P. Monella, Procne e Filomela dal mito al simbolo letterario, Bologna 2005 415

    Works Quoted Ch. XVI 111

    A. Monti, Nuovi studi petroniani. I. Il retore Agamennone ed il poeta Eumolpo nel Satiricon di Petronio Arbitro, Torino 1907 Ch. I 47; 56

    L. Moraldi, Apocrifi del Nuovo Testamento, I, Torino 1971 App. II 9

    M. Morford, Nero’s Patronage and Participation in Literature and the Arts, “ANRW” II 32, 3, 1985, 2003-2031 Ch. X 16

    J. Morgan, Kleitophon and Encolpius: Achilles Tatius as Hidden Author, in: The Greek and Roman Novel. Parallel Readings, Ancient Narrative, Suppl. 8, Groningen 2007, 105-120 App. III 83

    J. Mössler, Quaestionum Petronianarum specimen novissimum, “Philologus” 50, 1891, 722-730 Ch. I 174; II 20; 30; 32; III 35; 36; 66

    K. Müller, Review of Nelson 1956, “Gnomon” 28, 1957, 503-505 Ch. I 74; 75; 90; 119; 177; 189; 204; 207; 220; 227

    K. Müller, Petronii Arbitri Satyricon, München 1961

    Ch. I 113; 177; 194; 227; II 26; III 25; IV 30; V 54; XII 15; XIV 13; 37; XVI 2; 11; 16; XVII 121; XIX 24; XXII 76

    K. Müller, Petronii Arbitri Satyricon reliquiae. Quartum ed. K.M., Lipsiae 1995 Ch. I 113; 185; II 26; VIII 84; IX 16; XVI 17; XVIII 3; XXI 54

    K. Müller-W. Ehlers, Petronius, Satyrica. Schelmenszenen. Lateinisch-Deutsch, München 1983 Ch. I 77; 185; 221; II 15; 26; 34; 44; III 35; VII 39; XI 35; 40; 45; XIV 18; XV 6; 12; 37; XVI 12; XVIII 35; XXI 23; 40; XXII 19; 89; App. I 6; II 30

    D. Mulroy, Petronius 81.3, “CPh” 65, 1970, 254-256 Ch. XVIII 99; 103; 104

    P. Murgatroyd, Petronius, Satyricon 132, “Latomus” 59, 2000, 346-352 Ch. IV 79; 98; 119; 121; 124

    H. Musurillo, Dream Symbolism in Petr. frgm. 30, “CPh” 53, 1958, 108-110 Ch. XV 48

    416

    Works Quoted R. Muth, Träger der Lebenskraft. Ausscheidungen des Organismus im Volksglauben der Antike, Wien 1954 App. II 10; 12; 13; 18; 21; 56; 57; 58; 64; 69

    J. Nagore, El juego intertextual en el episodio de Enotea, in: J. Nagore (ed.), Estrategias intertextuales en la narrativa latina: el Satyricon de Petronio, Buenos Aires 2003, 153-167 Ch. XIX 24; 28; 39

    H.L.W. Nelson, Ein Unterrichtsprogramm aus neronischer Zeit dargestellt auf Grund von Petrons Satiricon c. 5, “Medelingen der koninklijke Nederlandse Akademie van Wetenschappen”, Nieuwe Reeks, Deel 19, Afdelning Letterkunde, Amsterdam 1956, 201-228 Ch. I 51; 58; 61; 74; 75; 79; 84; 88; 89; 99; 102; 104; 112; 115; 119; 144; 155; 156; 167; 173; 181; 183; 189; 194; 195; 200; 208; 209; 210; 219; 220; 222; 227; 235

    F. Neue-C. Wagener, Formenlehre der lateinischen Sprache, II, Berlin 18923 Ch. VII 14

    C. Newlands, The Transformation of the Locus Amoenus in Roman Poetry, Diss. Berkeley 1984 Ch. XVI 46; 75; 76

    A Nicolosi, Sul nuovo Archiloco elegiaco (P.Oxy. 4708 fr. 1), “Eikasmos” 17, 2006, 25-31 Ch. XVIII 35

    R.G.M. Nisbet, Review of Müller 1961, and W.V. Clausen, A. Persii Flacci et D. Iunii Iuvenalis Saturae, Oxford 1959, “JRS” 52, 1962, 227-238 Ch. III 30; VI 25; VIII 86

    R.G.M. Nisbet-M. Hubbard, A Commentary on Horace: Odes, Book I, Oxford 1970 Ch. XIV 14

    E. Norden, P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneis Buch VI, Stuttgart 19574 Ch. XV 30; 33; 37; XVIII 6; 24

    E. Norden, Il dio ignoto. Ricerche sulla storia della forma del discorso religioso, a cura di C. O. Tommasi Moreschini, Brescia 2002 (Agnostos theos. Untersuchungen zur Formengeschichte religiöser Rede, Leipzig-Stuttgart 19967) Ch. XVIII 18

    M. Nyman, Latin -is ‘Nom. Plur.’ as an Indo-European Reflex, “Glotta” 68, 1990, 216-219

    417

    Works Quoted Ch. VII 14

    D. Obbink, A New Archilochus Poem, “ZPE” 156, 2006, 1-9 Ch. XVIII 35

    E.M. O’ Connor, Symbolum salacitatis. A Study of the God Priapus as a Literary Character, Frankfurt-Bern 1989 Ch. XVIII 11; 18; 21

    M. Ogrin, Schedium Lucilianae humilitatis, “Quaderni di Filologia Classica” (Università di Trieste) 4, 1983, 45-58 Ch. I 41; 71; 76; 91; 128; 135; 142; 154; 200; 209

    P. Oltramare, Les origines de la diatribe romaine, Lausanne 1926 Ch. VIII 32; IX 17; XV 63

    A. Otto, Die Sprichwörter und sprichwörtlichen Redensarten der Römer, Leipzig 1890 Ch. III 11; IV 114; XXII 60; App. I 45; 57; II 64

    M. Pacchieni, Nota petroniana. L’episodio di Circe e Polieno (capp. 126-131; 134), “BStudLat” 6, 1967, 79-90 Ch. XVI 40; App. III 131

    R. Pack, The Criminal Dossier of Encolpius, “CPh” 55, 1960, 31-32 Ch. XVIII 66; 87

    D. Page, Sappho and Alcaeus. An Introduction to the Study of Ancient Lesbian Poetry, Oxford 19653 Ch. V 62

    D.L. Page, The Epigrams of Rufinus. Edited with an Introd. and Comm., Cambridge 1978 Ch. IV 36

    D.L. Page, Further Greek Epigrams before A.D. 50 from the Greek Anthology and other Sources, not included in ‘Hellenistic Epigrams’ or ‘The Garland of Philip’. Edited and prepared for publication by R. D. Dawe and J. Diggle, Cambridge 1981 Ch. XIII 15

    C. Panayotakis, Theatrum Arbitri. Theatrical Elements in the Satyricon of Petronius, Leiden-New York-Köln 1995 Ch. I 45; 48; 53; 65; IV 20; V 16; 33; 44; VI 56; 74; 96; 102; 121; VIII 4; 14; 38; 39; 53; 55; 57; 59; 61; 68; XVII 3; 31; 108; XIX 24; XXI 25; App. I 60; II 53; III 106

    418

    Works Quoted A.D. Papanikolaou, Chariton-Studien. Untersuchungen zur Sprache und Chronologie der griechischen Romane, Göttingen 1973 App. III 19

    E. Paratore, Il Satyricon di Petronio, I-II, Firenze 1933

    Ch. I 17; 43; 208; II 20; III 4; 32; V 46; VI 17; 31; 70; 121; VII 7; VIII 4; X 1; XI 32; XII 25; XVI 1; 31; XVII 2; 141; XXI 11

    J. Parsons, A Greek Satyricon?, “BICS” 18, 1971, 53-68 Ch. IV 1; 11; 13; 16; 26; App. III 5

    J. Parsons, 3010. Narrative about Iolaus, “The Oxyrhynchus Papyri” 42, 1974, 34-41 Ch. IV 1; 19; App. III 5

    J. Parsons, Callimachus: Victoria Berenices, “ZPE” 25, 1977, 1-50 Ch. XXI 8

    F. Paschoud, Histoire Auguste. V 2. Texte ét. et trad., Paris 2001 Ch. VI 29

    V. Patimo, Petronio 12-15: lessico giuridico e travestimento parodico nella contesa sul mantello, “Aufidus” 15 (44), 2001, 165-193 Ch. III 1; 3

    V. Patimo, Gli advocati nocturni di Petr. 15.2: poliziotti o predoni?, “Aufidus” 16 (46), 2002, 7-35 Ch. III 1

    V. Patimo, Il ‘doppio sogno’ di Petronio (Satyr. 104, 1-4): variazione di un tema ‘narrativo’, “Paideia” 61, 2006, 457-479 Ch. XV 47; XVII 123; App. III 135; 136

    A.S. Pease, Publi Vergili Maronis Aeneidos Liber Quartus, Cambridge, Mass. 1935 (repr. Darmstadt 1967) Ch. VII 30; XV 28

    A. Pecchiura, La figura storica di Catone Uticense nella letteratura latina, Torino 1965 Ch. XVII 37

    W. Peek, Der Isishymnos von Andros und verwandte Texte, Berlin 1930 Ch. XIX 97

    W. Peek, Griechische Vers-Inschrifte. I. Grab-Epigramme, Berlin 1955 Ch. V 47; 49; 76

    419

    Works Quoted W. Peek, Griechische Grabgedichte griechisch und deutsch, Berlin 1960 Ch. V 76; 85; 99

    R. Peiper, D. Magni Ausonii Opuscula, Lipsiae 1886 Ch. II 22

    C. Pellegrino, Petronii Arbitri Satyricon. Introd., ed. crit. e comm., Roma 1975

    Ch. I 200; 207; II 5; III 5; VII 2; 9; VIII 11; XI 45; XII 14; 51; XVI 2; 10; 25; XVII 18; 121; XIX 32; XX 2; 16; 20; 42; XXII 72

    C. Pellegrino, T. Petronio Arbitro, Satyricon. Introd., testo crit. e comm. I. I capitoli della retorica, Roma 1984 Ch. I 15; 17; 39; 48; 50; 63; 65; 73; 75; 90; 91; 99; 112; 118; 119; 138; 147; 148; 151; 154; 164; 175; 177; 190; 191; 200; 207; 219; 220; 222; 225; 227; 228; 234; II 5; III 5; 66; IV 36; 40; 55

    A. Pennacini, Amore e canto nel locus amoenus. Teocrito, Tibullo, Virgilio, Torino 1974 Ch. XVI 91

    P. Perrochat, Pétrone. Le festin de Trimalcion. Comm. exég. et critique, Paris 1939 (19623) Ch. V 61; 108; VI 73

    B.E. Perry, Petronius and the Comic Romance, “CPh” 20, 1925, 31-49 App. III 28; 29

    B.E. Perry, On Apuleius’ Hermagoras, “AJPh” 48, 1927, 263-266 App. III 11

    B.E. Perry, The Ancient Romances. A Literary-Historical Account of their Origins, Berkeley-Los Angeles 1967 App. III 21

    A. Perutelli, I ‘bracchia’ degli alberi, “MD” 15, 1985, 9-48 Ch. XVI 5

    A. Perutelli, Enotea, la capanna e il rito magico: l’intreccio dei modelli in Petron. 135-136, “MD” 17, 1986, 125-143 Ch. XIX 2; 11; 39; XX 2; 5; 13; 16; 33; 37; 42; 50; 53; 55; 60; 67; 70; 86; XXI 2; 3; 49; XXII 7

    A. Perutelli, Lutazio Catulo poeta, “RFIC” 118, 1990, 257-281 Ch. VII 41

    420

    Works Quoted H. Petersmann, Petrons urbane Prosa. Untersuchungen zu Sprache und Text (Syntax), Wien 1977 Ch. III 66

    H. Petersmann, Antike Unterhaltungsliteratur zwischen Roman und Satire: Petrons Satyrica, das Iolaos- und Tinouphisfragment, “AAH” 40, 2000, 371-378 Ch. IV 15

    G. Petrone, La ‘ierofania’ di Quartilla, “Pan” 15-16, 1993-1994, 91-100 Ch. III 29; 32; 35; 64

    U. Pizzani, Fabio Planciade Fulgenzio. Definizioni di parole antiche. Introd., testo, trad. e note, Roma 1968 Ch. IX 24; App. I 46; 47

    M. Plastira-Valkanou, Dreams in Xenophon Ephesius, “SO” 76, 2001, 137-149 App. III 135

    M. Plaza, Laughter and Derision in Petronius’ Satyrica. A Literary Study, Stockholm 2000 Ch. I 216; III 1; 9; VIII 11; 53; XII 17; 58; 67; 68; 105; XIV 35; XVII 3; XVIII 38; 49; 62; XX 51; 58

    K. Preisendanz, Sexuelles auf griechischen Zauberpapyri, “Sexuelle Probleme. Zeitschr. f. Sexualwissenschaft u. Sexualpolitik” 9, 1913, 614-619 App. II 61

    A. Puhle, Persona. Zur Ethik des Panaitios, Frankfurt 1987 Ch. VIII 30

    L.C. Purser, The Story of Cupid and Psyche as Related by Apuleius. Edited with Introd. and Notes, London 1910 App. I 49

    W.H. Race, The Classical Priamel from Homer to Boethius, Leiden 1982 Ch. X 4; XXII 21

    O. Raith, Petronius. Ein Epikureer, Nürnberg 1963 Ch. XIV 9; 10; 47; 48; XVII 17; 121; 122

    O. Raith, Veri doctus Epicurus. Zum Text von Petron 132, 15, 7, “WS” N.F. 4, 1970, 138-151 Ch. XVII 37; 121

    O. Raith, Unschuldsbeteuerung und Sündebekenntnis im Gebet des Enkolp an Priap, “Studii Clasice” 13, 1971, 109-125 421

    Works Quoted Ch. XVIII 42; 73; 83; 89; 92

    I. Ramelli, Petronio e i Cristiani: allusioni al Vangelo di Marco nel Satyricon?, “Aevum” 70, 1996, 75-80 App. II 5

    I. Ramelli, Review of Gamba 1998, “Aevum” 73, 1999, 207-210 App. II 6

    I. Ramelli, I romanzi antichi e il cristianesimo, Madrid 2001 App. II 5

    H.D. Rankin, Petronius, Priapus and Priapeum LXVIII, “C & M” 27, 1966, 225242 Ch. XVIII 22; 42; 45; 50

    H.D. Rankin, Did Tacitus Quote Petronius?, in: Id., Petronius the Artist. Essays on the Satyricon and its Author, The Hague 1971, 106-108 Ch. XVII 3; 42

    R. Reiche, Ein rheinisches Schulbuch aus dem 11. Jahrhundert. Studien zur Sammelhandschrift Bonn UB. S 218 mit Edition von bisher unveröffentlichten Texten, München 1976 Ch. IX 4

    R. Reitzenstein, Zur römischen Satire, “Hermes” 59, 1924, 1-22 Ch. I 29

    , “Grande Lessico del Nuovo Testamento”, fondato da G. K.H. Rengstorf, Kittel, continuato da G. Friedrich. Ediz. ital., X, Brescia 1975 [Stuttgart 1959], 175-178

    App. II 16

    J. Révay, Horaz und Petron, “CPh” 17, 1922, 202-212 Ch. V 108

    G. Reverdito, Petronio Arbitro. Satiricon. Introd. e note, Milano 1995

    Ch. I 78; 187; 200; 207; 219; 229; 231; II 14; 25; 34; 44; III 25; 35; 47; 66; VI 12; 16; VIII 3; 80; IX 19; X 10; XII 10; XIV 15; XV 12; 23; XVI 6; 10; 24; XVII 121; XX 22; XXI 23; 40; XXII 72; 85; 96; 109; App. I 5

    T. Richardson, The Sacred Geese of Priapus? (Satyricon 134, 6 f.), “MH” 37, 1980, 98-103 Ch. XXI 51; 55; 57

    422

    Works Quoted A. Richlin, The Garden of Priapus. Sexuality and Aggression in Roman Humor, New York-Oxford 19922 Ch. XVII 2; XVIII 22; 38

    R. Rieks, Die Gleichnisse Vergils, “ANRW” II 31, 2, 1981, 1011-1110 Ch. XXI 27; 28

    E. Riess, Aberglaube, “RE” I 1, 1893, 29-93 App. II 56

    V. Rimell, Petronius and the Anatomy of Fiction, Cambridge 2002

    Ch. I 113; 131; 156; IV 76; 80; V 104; VI 31; XI 7; XII 25; 83; XIV 46; XVIII 66; XIX 22; 34; XX 70; 92; App. II 3

    C. Rindi, Lo scenario urbano del Satyricon, “Maia” 32, 1980, 115-134 Ch. XVI 1; 93; 107; XIX 94

    E. Rohde, Der griechische Roman und seine Vorläufer, Leipzig 19143 (18761) App. III 13

    R. Roncali, La cintura di Venere (Petronio, Satyricon 126-131), “SIFC” III 4, 1986, 106-110 Ch. XIII 3; 8; 13; 27; XIV 17; 36; 44; 45; 49; 55; App. II 31

    A. Ronconi, Il verbo latino. Problemi di sintassi storica, Firenze 1959 Ch. XVI 63; XXI 47

    A. Ronconi, Cicerone. Somnium Scipionis. Introd. e comm., Firenze 1961 (19672) Ch. XV 51

    A. Ronconi, Interpretazioni letterarie nei classici, Firenze 1972 Ch. XVII 128

    G. Rosati, Trimalchione in scena, “Maia” 35, 1983, 213-227 Ch. V 33

    K.F.C. Rose, The Petronian Inquisition: an Auto-da-Fe, “Arion” 5, 1966, 275301 Ch. XVIII 70

    K. Rose, Petroniana, “RhM” 111, 1968, 253-260 Ch. XX 8

    P.A. Rosenmeyer, The Unexpected Guests: Patterns of Xenia in Callimachus’ ‘Victoria Berenices’ and Petronius’ Satyricon, “CQ” N.S. 41, 1991, 403-413 423

    Works Quoted Ch. XX 34; 50; 61; 65; 69; 70; XXI 5; 8; 10

    A. Rosokoki, Die Erigone des Eratosthenes. Eine kommentierte Ausg. d. Fragmente, Heidelberg 1995 Ch. V 61

    C. Ruiz-Montero, The Rise of the Greek Novel, in: G. Schmeling (ed.), The Novel in the Ancient World, Boston-Leiden 20032, 29-85 App. III 12

    E.T. Sage, Atticism in Petronius, “TAPhA” 46, 1915, 47-57 Ch. I 39; 66; 76; 167; 173; XVII 38; 39; 107

    E.T. Sage, Petronius. Satyricon. Annotated edition revised and expanded by B.B. Gilleland, New York 1969 (19291) Ch. III 9

    M. Salanitro, L’uccello pio. Petronio, 55, 6 v. 4, “RFIC” 124, 1996, 300-303 Ch. VI 9; 30; 39; 74

    R.P. Saller, Personal Patronage under the Early Empire, Cambridge 1982 Ch. X 16

    G. Sandy, Satire in the Satyricon, “AJPh” 90, 1969, 293-303 Ch. IV 111; VI 41; App. III 27

    G. Sandy, Catullus 16, “Phoenix” 25, 1971, 51-57 Ch. IV 47

    G. Sandy, Scaenica Petroniana, “TAPhA” 104, 1974, 329-346 Ch. V 44; VI 65

    G.N. Sandy, Publilius Syrus and Satyricon 55.5-6, “RhM” 119, 1976, 286-287 Ch. VI 56; 66; 70

    G.N. Sandy, Notes on Lollianus’ Phoenicica, “AJPh” 100, 1979, 367-376 App. III 4

    C. Santini, Il vetro infrangibile (Petronio 51), in: Semiotica della novella latina. Atti del seminario interdisciplinare ‘La novella latina’ (Perugia 11-13 aprile 1985), Roma 1986, 117-124 Ch. VI 86

    R. Scarcia, Per l’interpretazione del titolo del ludus senecano, in: Id., Latina Siren. Note di critica semantica, Roma 1964, 49-142 Ch. XII 17; App. I 20; 40; 47; 48; 52; 53; 58

    424

    Works Quoted M. Scarola, Un naufragio da capelli (Petronio, Sat. 101-115), “Annali della Facoltà di Lettere e Filosofia di Bari” 26, 1986, 39-56 Ch. XII 60

    M. Scarsi, Gaio Petronio. Satyricon. Pref. di G. Chiarini, Firenze 1996

    Ch. I 1; 12; 187; 200; 219; 229; 231; II 14; 25; 34; 44; 53; III 5; 25; 35; VI 12; 16; 70; VII 38; VIII 3; IX 29; XI 42; XII 10; XIV 18; XV 23; XVI 6; 10; 25; XVII 2; 121; XVIII 5; 34; 66; XIX 17; 34; XX 22; XXI 23; 40; XXII 72; 85; App. I 5; II 64

    F. Scheidweiler, Drei Petronstellen, “PhW” 42, 1922, 1052-1056 Ch. I 66; 79; 113; 222; 227; III 30; 35

    O. Schissel, Die Technik des Bildeinsatzes, “Philologus” 72, 1913, 83-114 Ch. IX 22

    O. Schissel von Fleschenberg, Die kunstlerische Absicht in Petronos ‚Saturae’, “WS” 33, 1911, 264-273 Ch. XVIII 27; 48; 59; 73; 92; 104; 107

    G. Schmeling, Confessor gloriosus: A Role of Encolpius in the Satyrica, “WJA” 20, 1994-1995, 207-227 Ch. XVIII 13; 86; 97; 99

    R. Schnackenburg, Il Vangelo di Giovanni. Parte seconda. Testo greco e trad. Comm. ai capp. 5-12, Ital. transl., Brescia 1977 (Freiburg im Breisgau 1971) App. II 17; 21

    H.C. Schnur, De aliquibus apud Petronium locis obscurioribus, in: Pegasus devocatus. Studia in honorem C. Arri Nuri sive Harry C. Schnur. Accessere selecta eiusdem opuscula inedita, Leuven 1992, 169-173 Ch. I 181; 227

    G. Schönbeck, Der Locus Amoenus von Homer bis Horaz, Diss. Heidelberg 1962 Ch. XVI 22; 43; 44; 45; 47; 56; 59; 61; 69; 71

    J.K. Schönberger, Zu Petron. c. 5, “PhW” 49, 1929, 1199-1200 Ch. I 42; 61; 66; 173; 233

    J.K. Schönberger, Zu Petronius, “PhW” 55, 1935, 1242-1248

    Ch. I 34; 76; 92; 113; 153; 154; 166; 208; 215; 219; 221; 227; IV 41; XXI 1

    J.K. Schönberger, Petron. c. 1-5, “PhW” 58, 1938, 174-176; 219-222 Ch. I 41; 61; 76; 91; 107; 153; 166; 173; 215

    J.K. Schönberger, Nochmals Petron. c. 1-5, “PhW” 59, 1939, 478-480; 508-512 425

    Works Quoted Ch. I 25; 81; 113: 140; 154; 188; 200; 205; 215

    J.K. Schönberger, Zu Petron. 3-5, “PhW” 60, 1940, 623-624 Ch. I 87; 200

    A. Scobie, Aspects of the Ancient Greek Romance and its Heritage. Essays on Apuleius, Petronius, and the Greek Romances, Meisenheim am Glan 1963 App. III 1

    A. Scobie, Apuleius Metamorphoseos (Asinus Aureus) I. A Commentary, Meisenheim am Glan 1975 App. I 50

    A. Setaioli, Esegesi virgiliana in Seneca, “SIFC” 37, 1965, 133-156 Ch. V 90

    A. Setaioli, Nuove osservazioni sulla ‘descrizione dell’oltretomba’ nel papiro di Bologna, “SIFC” 42, 1970, 178-224 Ch. IX 17

    A. Setaioli, Il proemio dei Carmina oraziani, “Atti e Memorie dell’Accademia Toscana ‘La Colombaria’” 38, 1973, 1-59 Ch. X 5; 9; XXII 26; 28

    A. Setaioli, Discorso diretto, “Enciclopedia Virgiliana” II, 1985, 102-106 Ch. IV 89; XI 25; 28

    A. Setaioli, Seneca e I Greci. Citazioni e traduzioni nelle opere filosofiche, Bologna 1988 Ch. V 84; 87; 88; XVII 58; 61

    A. Setaioli, La vicenda dell’anima nel commento di Servio a Virgilio, Frankfurt 1995 Ch. IX 5; 6; 23

    A. Setaioli, Orco (Orcus), in: Orazio. Enciclopedia Oraziana, II, Roma 1997, 447-449 Ch. V 69; 70

    A. Setaioli, Facundus Seneca. Aspetti della lingua e dell’ideologia senecana, Bologna 2000 Ch. I 41; 72; III 66; VI 45; XVII 93; 110; 125; XXII 117

    426

    Works Quoted A. Setaioli, Seneca e Cicerone, in: E. Narducci (ed.), Aspetti della fortuna di Cicerone nella letteratura latina. Atti del III Symposium Cic. Arpinas (Arpino, 10 maggio 2002), Firenze 2003, 55-77 Ch. VI 104

    A. Setaioli, Some Ideas of Seneca’s on Beauty, “Prometheus” 33, 2007, 49-65 Ch. XVI 77

    A. Setaioli, Truffles and Thunderbolts (Plu., Quaest. conv. 4.2, 1-2), in: J. Ribeiro Ferreira-D. Leão-M. Tröster-F. Barata Dias (eds.), Symposion and Philanthropia in Plutarch, Coimbra 2009, 439-446 App. I 21

    A. Setaioli, Free Will and Autonomy [in Seneca], forthcoming Ch. XVIII 84

    D.R. Shackleton Bailey, On Petronius, “AJPh” 108, 1987, 458-464 Ch. VIII 26

    A.N. Sherwin-White, The Letters of Pliny. A Historical and Social Commentary, Oxford 1966 Ch. II 52

    E. Siegmann, Literarische griechische Texte der Heidelberger Papyrussammlung, Heidelberg 1956 Ch. XII 98; 100

    C. Sittl, Die Gebärde der Griechen und Römer, Leipzig 1890 App. II 12; 13; 14; 20; 25; 56; 58; 64

    O. Skutsch, The Annals of Q. Ennius. Edited with Introd. and Comm., Oxford 1985 Ch. XV 24

    N. Slater, Satyricon 80.9: Petronius and Manuscript Illustrations, “CJ” 82, 1987, 216-217 Ch. VIII 5; 52; 57; 59; 66

    N. Slater, Reading Petronius, Baltimore-London 1990 (1990a)

    Ch. I 13; 52; 54; 76; 113; II 1; 5; 15; 25; 34; 47; III 1; 3; 25; IV 76; V 4; 44; 48; 64; 105; VI 31; 32; 76; 121; VIII 16; 25; 43; 52; 55; 57; 58; IX 8; X 7; XI 10; 11; 12; 24; 34; 38; 42; 45; XII 17; 21; 53; XIII 3; 9; 27; 31; XIV 4; 7; 18; 34; XVI 109; XVII 3; 21; XVIII 15; 42; 92; XIX 11; 24; 88; XX 50; XXI 10

    N. Slater, An Echo of Ars Poetica 5 in Petronius, “Philologus” 134, 1990, 159160 (1990b) 427

    Works Quoted Intr. 19; Ch. VIII 14; 15; 25

    M.S. Smith, Petronii Arbitri Cena Trimalchionis, Oxford 1975 Ch. V 49; 62; 104; 108; 110; VI 33; 55; 56; 65; 76; 96; App. I 34; 55

    A.F. Sochatoff, Imagery in the Poems of the Satyricon, “CJ” 65, 1969-1970, 340-344 Ch. V 64; 65; 110; VI 56; 72; 109; IX 19; XV 11; XVI 2; 7; 109; XX 88

    G. Sommariva, Eumolpo, un ‘Socrate epicureo’ nel Satyricon, “ASNP” III 14, 1984, 25-58 (1984a) Ch. X 7; 31; XII 17; 64;

    G. Sommariva, Petronio, Satyr. frr. 37 e 47 Ernout, in: V. Tandoi (ed.), Disiecti membra poetae, I, Foggia 1984, 117-145 (1984b) Ch. XVII 86

    G. Sommariva, Rotundum horti tuber (Petr. Satyr. 109, 10), “A & R” N.S. 30, 1985, 45-52 Ch. XII 7; 8; 17; 22; 24; 34; 47; App. I 20; 24; 41; 71; 72; 73; 83

    G. Sommariva, ‘Ora manusque vendere’: fortuna di un motivo sallustiano, “A & R” N.S. 35, 1990, 26-29 (1990a) Ch. II 13; 16

    G. Sommariva, La ‘sapientia’ di Quartilla. Una rilettura di Petr. Satyr. 18.6, “A & R” N.S. 35, 1990, 78-88 (1990b) Ch. III 26; 28; 31; 32; 34; 37; 38; 40; 48; 51; 57; 58; 61; 64; 66

    G. Sommariva, Il barbiere di Mida (Petr. Satyr. fr. 28 Ernout), “Filologia antica e moderna” 1, 1991, 107-117 Ch. XVII 86

    G. Sommariva, Gli intermezzi metrici in rapporto alle parti narrative nel Satyricon di Petronio, “A & R” N.S. 41, 1996, 55-74 Intr. 13; Ch. I 48; 193; 201; XIII 3; 9; 19; 20; 24; 27; 29; 30; 31; 34; 37; XIV 10; 34; XVII 3; 82; XX 30; 37; 54; 61; 65; XXI 4; 6; 7; 8; XXII 20; 34; 50; 72; 74

    G. Sommariva, Far mercato della giustizia: l’intermezzo metrico dell’episodio del forum (Petr. Satyr. 14, 2), “Filologia antica e moderna”, 12, 1997, 7-29 Ch. II 2; 4; 15; 16; 24; 29; 33; 34; 40; 44; 46; 53

    G. Sommariva, Nomen amicitiae (Petronio, Satyricon 80, 9 vv. 1-8), in: R. Badalì (ed.), Satura. Studi in onore di Franco Lanza, Viterbo 2003, 285-294 Ch. VIII 11; 21; 33; 75; 76; 81; 85

    428

    Works Quoted G. Sommariva, Petronio nell’‘Anthologia Latina’, Sarzana 2004 Intr. 1

    F. Sommer, Handbuch der lateinischen Laut- und Formenlehre. Eine Einführung in das sprachwissenschaftl. Studium des Lateins, Heidelberg 19132-3 Ch. VII 14

    P. Soverini, Il problema delle teorie retoriche e poetiche di Petronio, “ANRW” II 32, 3, 1985, 1706-1779 Ch. I 8; 9; 28; 31; 38; 55; 56; 62; 63; 166; X 20; XII 5; XVII 4; 56; 107; 109; 111; 113; 121

    P. Soverini, Nota a Petronio, Sat. 132, 15, “BStudLat” 27, 1997, 460-469 Ch. XVII 6; 8; 11; 12; 16

    W. Speyer, Gürtel, “RLAC” 12, 1983, 1232-1266 App. II 32; 33

    R. B. Steele, Literary Adaptations and References in Petronius, “CJ” 15, 19191920, 279-293 Ch. VI 31; 47; 71; 81

    S.A. Stephens-J.J. Winkler, Ancient Greek Novels. The Fragments. Introd., Text, Transl., and Comm., Princeton 1995 Ch. IV 1; 8; 14; 15; 17; XIX 41; App. III 2; 5; 7; 20; 42

    Chr. Stöcker, Humor bei Petron, Diss. Erlangen-Nürnberg 1969

    Intr. 30; Ch. II 1; 6; 8; IV 105; V 54; 56; 73; 103; VI 72; VIII 11; 20; 43; 49; IX 25; X 14; XII 72; 75; XIII 2; 8; XIV 6; 10; 14; 35; 41; 49; 59; XV 62; XVI 1; 2; 32; 66; 109; 114; XVII 87; XX 9; 19; 50; 58; 90; XXII 6; 25; 33; 71; 79; App. III 18; 22; 29; 86

    F. Stoessl, Die Kußgedichte des Catull und ihre Nachwirkung bei den Elegikern, “WS” 63, 1948, 102-116 Ch. VII 9

    J.M. Stowasser, Satura (Fortsetzung zu VI, 206-215), “WS” 7, 1885, 37-44 Ch. XX 8

    A. Stramaglia, Prosimetria narrativa e ‘romanzo perduto’: PTurner 8 (con discussione di PSI 161 [Pack2 2624] + PMil Vogliano 260), “ZPE” 92, 1992, 121149 Ch. IV 7

    H. Stubbe, Die Verseinlagen im Petron. Philologus Suppl. 25, Heft 2, Leipzig 1933

    429

    Works Quoted Intr. 9; 37; 39; Ch. I 34; 156; 182; 227; II 10; III 22; VI 18; 27; 71; VII 9; 19; 38; VIII 11; IX 20; 31; XII 88; XIV 13; 15; XV 4; 5; 39; XVI 6; 13; XVII 2; 5; 38; 48; 96; 121; XIX 34; 92; XX 2; 16; 22; 32; XXII 77; 86; App. I 6

    J.P. Sullivan, The Satyricon of Petronius. A Literary Study, Bloomington and London 1968 Ch. I 13; 23; 24; 26; 66; 84; 173; 202; II 7; III 23; V 108; VI 33; 47; 54; 56; 64; 74; 77; 94; 96; 109; IX 22; XVII 1; 30; 62; 113; 123; XVIII 36; 38; 66; 69; 92; 108; XXII 2

    J.P. Sullivan, Literature and Politics in the Age of Nero, Ithaca and London 1985 Ch. XX 18; 39

    V.T. Tammaro, Noterelle al nuovo Archiloco (P.Oxy. 4708), “Eikasmos” 17, 2006, 33-35 Ch. XVIII 35

    V. Tandoi, Morituri verba Catonis, I, “Maia” 17, 1965, 315-339 Ch. I 49; 50; 57; 65; 76; 119; 124; 128; 173

    V. Tandoi, Review of Ciaffi, Petronio. Satyricon, Torino 1967, “A & R” N.S. 13, 1968, 76-81 Ch. I 92; 177; 181; V 106; VI 22; 72

    V. Tandoi, Gli epigrammi di Tiburtino dopo un’autopsia del graffito, “Quad. A.I.C.C. di Foggia” 2-3, 1982-1983, 3-31 Ch. XIII 10

    V. Tandoi, La storiella sull’inventore del vetro infrangibile (Petr. Satyr. 51), in: Id. Scritti di filologia e di storia della cultura classica, Pisa 1992, I, 633-635 (1992a) Ch. VI 86

    V. Tandoi, Note critiche a versi del Satyricon e frammenti incerti, in: Id., Scritti di filologia e di storia della cultura classica, Pisa 1992, I, 646-650 (1992b) Ch. III 30; 35; 38; 66

    G. Thaniel, Lemures and larvae, “AJPh” 94, 1973, 182-187 Ch. V 18

    G. Thiele, Zum griechischen Roman, in: Aus der Anomia. Archäologische Beiträge Carl Robert dargebracht, Berlin 1890, 124-133 App. III 21

    K. Töchterle, Lucius Annaeus Seneca. Oedipus, Heidelberg 1994 Ch. XXII 37; 62

    430

    Works Quoted F.A. Todd, Some Cucurbitaceae in Latin Literature, “CQ” 37, 1943, 101-111 App. I 50; 58; 72

    A.-M. Tupet, La magie dans la poésie latine, Paris 1976 Ch. XIX 27

    B. L. Ullman, Petronius in Mediaeval Florilegia, “CPh” 25, 1930, 11-21 Ch. IX 1; 3; 20

    V. Ussani, Questioni petroniane, “SIFC” 13, 1905, 1-51 Ch. XI 2; 7; 35

    G. Vannini, Petronio 1975-2005: bilancio critico e nuove proposte, “Lustrum” 49, 2007 Intr. 4

    G. Vannini, Petronii Arbitri Satyricon 110-115. Edizione critica e commento, Berlin-New York 2010 Ch. XI 1; 35; 37; 38; 45; XII 17; 68; 95; App. I 16; 74

    H. Van Thiel, Petron: Überlieferung und Rekonstruktion, Leiden 1971

    Ch. I 16; III 1; 27; VIII 9; XVI 19; 32; XVIII 42; 86; 98; 103; 104; 113; XX 53; XXI 36

    R. Verdière, Les Harpyiae de Pétrone, “Eirene” 28, 1993, 33-35 Ch. XXI 1

    J.-M. Vergé-Borderolle, Les vers dans le Satiricon de Pétrone, “L’Information Littéraire” 51, 3, 1999, 3-8 Ch. IV 80; 93; VI 70; VIII 11; XVII 2

    P. Veyne, Le «je» dans le Satiricon, “REA” 42, 1964, 301-324 (1964a) Ch. XVII 122; XVIII 42

    P. Veyne, Review of Raith 1963, “REA” 42, 1964, 446-450 (1964b) Ch. XVII 122

    B. Vine, Petroniana, “Latomus” 48, 1989, 835-840 Ch. XVIII 4

    I. de Vreese, Petron 39 und die Astrologie, Amsterdam 1927 App. I 51

    M. Waegeman, Amulet and Alphabet. Magical Amulets in the First Book of the Cyranides, Amsterdam 1987 App. II 40; 71

    431

    Works Quoted P.G. Walsh, The Roman Novel. The ‘Satyricon’ of Petronius and the ‘Metamorphoses’ of Apuleius, Cambridge 1970 Ch. I 38; 49; 55; 75; 78; 113; 186; 200; 209; IV 98; V 44; 46; 105; VI 31; 55; 56; 121; VIII 19; 61; 68; XI 7; XVII 2; 141; XVIII 38; 65; XXII 2

    P.G. Walsh, Petronius. The Satyricon. Transl. with Introd. and Explan. Notes, Oxford 1996 Ch. I 16; 35; 78; 113; 154; 186; 200; 209; 210; II 16; 26; 37; III 5; 6; 12; IV 45; 61; VI 56; 75; 109; 121; VII 38; VIII 28; 80; IX 19; 26; 29; XI 9; 42; 45; XII 17; XIII 31; XIV 15; 39; XV 7; 8; XVI 6; 24; XVIII 5; 66; XIX 34; XX 2; 16; XXI 23; XXII 81; 96; App. I 7; II 30

    W.S. Watt, Notes on Petronius, “C & M” 37, 1986, 173-184 Ch. VIII 87

    W.S. Watt, Petroniana, “Phoenix” 48, 1994, 254-256 Ch. 87; XIV 28

    G. (= W.) Wehle, Observationes criticae in Petronium, Diss. Bonn 1861 Ch. VI 68; XI 6; 36; XVI 1; 6; 22; 62; XIX 17; 23; 56

    F. Wehrli, Einheit und Vorgeschichte der griechisch-römischen Romanliteratur, “MH” 22, 1965, 133-154 App. III 15; 24; 44; 62; 88; 103: 152

    O. Weinreich, Antike Heilungswunder. Untersuchungen zum Wunderglauben der Griechen und Römer, Giessen 1909 Ch. XVIII 54; App. II 53; 69

    M.L. West, Studies in Greek Elegy and Iambus, Berlin-New York 1974 App. II 59; 60

    M.L. West, Archilochus and Telephus, “ZPE” 156, 2006, 11-17 Ch. XVIII 35

    P. White, The Friends of Martial, Statius and Pliny, and the Dispersal of Patronage, “HSPh” 79, 1975, 265-300 Ch. X 16

    P. White, Positions for Poets in Early Imperial Rome, in: B.K. Gold (ed.), Literary and Artistic Patronage in Ancient Rome, Austin 1982, 50-66 Ch. X 16

    J. Wiesner, Lilie, “LAW”, Zürich und Stuttgart 1965, 1732 (1965a) Ch. XIV 38

    J. Wiesner, Rose, “LAW”, Zürich und Stuttgart 1965, 2676 (1965b) 432

    Works Quoted Ch. XIV 37

    J. Wiesner, Veilchen, “LAW”, Zürich und Stuttgart 1965, 3200-3201 (1965c) Ch. XIV 37

    G. Williams, Phases in Political Patronage of Literature in Rome, in: B.K. Gold (ed.), Literary and Artistic Patronage in Ancient Rome, Austin 1982, 3-27 Ch. X 16

    U. Winter, Kommentar zu den Verspartien der Oenothea-Episode in Petrons Satyricon. Schriftliche Hausarbeit zur ersten Staatsprüfung für das Lehramt an Gymnasien im Herbst 1992, Eichstätt 1992 Ch. XIX 1; 7; 19; 33; 39; 58; 60; 63; 66; 71; 92; 93; 94; 95; XX 2; 19; 20; 21; 32; 33; 35; 42; 47; 59; 60; 67; XXI 1; 4; 20; 23; 35; 38; 45; XXII 6; 8; 10; 20; 25; 33; 37; 41; 43; 51; 63; 71; 73; 84; 96

    G. Wöhrle, ‘Eine sehr hübsche Mahn-Mumie...’. Zur Rezeption eines herodoteischen Motivs, “Hermes” 118, 1990, 293-301 Ch. V 12; 14; 24; 56

    N.J. Woodall, Trimalchio’s Limping Pentameters, “CJ” 66, 1970-1971, 256-257 Ch. V 64; 106; 110

    W.-J. Yeh, Structures métriques des poésies de Pétrone: pour quel art poétique?, Louvain-Paris-Dudley 2007 Intr. 2; 3; 4; 13; 24; 34; 36; 39; 42; Ch. I 28; 34; 200; II 8; III 32; 35; 47; 65; IV 7; 25; 63; V 44; 47; 109; VI 27; 28; 29; 31; 32; 42; 26; 76; 109; VIII 11; X 1; XI 7; XII 6; 25; 54; 63; XIII 35; XV 4; XVII 3; XVIII 1; 2; XIX 5; 12; 15; 16; 22; 31; XXII 41; 105

    F. Zeitlin, Romanus Petronius: A Study of the Troiae Halosis and the Bellum Civile, “Latomus” 30, 1971, 56-82 (1971a) Ch. IV 76; 80; 81; App. II 28

    F. Zeitlin, Petronius as Paradox: Anarchy and Artistic Integrity, “TAPhA” 102, 1971, 631-684 (1971b) Ch. XVIII 3

    M. Zink, Der Mytholog Fulgentius. Ein Beitrag zur römischen Litteraturgeschichte und zur Grammatik des afrikanischen Lateins, Würzburg 1867 Ch. IX 24

    433

    pqrafbk=wro=hi^ppfp`ebk=mefilildfb= = eÉê~ìëÖÉÖÉÄÉå=îçå=jáÅÜ~Éä=îçå=^äÄêÉÅÜí= = = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ=

    N= räêáâÉ= hÉííÉã~ååW= fåíÉêéêÉí~íáçåÉå= òì= p~íò= ìåÇ= sÉêë= áå= lîáÇë= ÉêçíáëÅÜÉã= iÉÜêÖÉÇáÅÜíK= NVTVK= O= t~äíÉê=há≈ÉäW=a~ë=dÉëÅÜáÅÜíëÄáäÇ=ÇÉë=páäáìë=fí~äáÅìëK=NVTVK= P= mÉíÉê=pãáíÜW=kìêëäáåÖ=çÑ=jçêí~äáíóK=^=píìÇó=çÑ=íÜÉ=eçãÉêáÅ=eóãå=íç=^éÜêçÇáíÉK=NVUNK= Q= ûååÉ= _®ìãÉêW= aáÉ= _ÉëíáÉ= jÉåëÅÜK= pÉåÉÅ~ë= ^ÖÖêÉëëáçåëíÜÉçêáÉI= áÜêÉ= éÜáäçëçéÜáëÅÜÉå= sçêëíìÑÉå=ìåÇ=áÜêÉ=äáíÉê~êáëÅÜÉå=^ìëïáêâìåÖÉåK=NVUOK= R= `Üêáëíá~åÉ=oÉáíòW=aáÉ=kÉâóá~=áå=ÇÉå=mìåáÅ~=ÇÉë=páäáìë=fí~äáÅìëK=NVUOK= S= j~êâìë=tÉÄÉêW=aáÉ=ãóíÜçäçÖáëÅÜÉ=bêò®ÜäìåÖ=áå=lîáÇë=iáÉÄÉëâìåëíK=sÉê~åâÉêìåÖI=píêìâíìê= ìåÇ=cìåâíáçåK=NVUPK= T= h~êáå=kÉìãÉáëíÉêW=aáÉ=§ÄÉêïáåÇìåÖ=ÇÉê=ÉäÉÖáëÅÜÉå=iáÉÄÉ=ÄÉá=mêçéÉêòK=E_ìÅÜ=f=J=fffFK=NVUPK= U= tÉêåÉê=pÅÜìÄÉêíW=gìéáíÉê=áå=ÇÉå=béÉå=ÇÉê=cä~îáÉêòÉáíK=NVUQK= V= açêçíÜÉ~=hçÅÜJmÉíÉêëW=^åëáÅÜíÉå=ÇÉë=lêçëáìë=òìê=dÉëÅÜáÅÜíÉ=ëÉáåÉê=wÉáíK=NVUQK= NM= _ÉêåÇ=eÉ≈ÉåW=aÉê=ÜáëíçêáëÅÜÉ=fåÑáåáíáî=áã=t~åÇÉä=ÇÉê=a~êëíÉääìåÖëíÉÅÜåáâ=p~ääìëíëK=NVUQK= NN= `çêåÉäá~=oÉåÖÉêW=^ÉåÉ~ë=ìåÇ=qìêåìëK=^å~äóëÉ=ÉáåÉê=cÉáåÇëÅÜ~ÑíK=NVURK= NO= oÉáåÜçäÇ=däÉáW=aáÉ=_~íê~ÅÜçãóçã~ÅÜáÉK=póåçéíáëÅÜÉ=bÇáíáçå=ìåÇ=hçããÉåí~êK=NVUQK= NP= káâçä~çë= q~ÅÜáåçëäáëW= e~åÇëÅÜêáÑíÉå= ìåÇ= ^ìëÖ~ÄÉå= ÇÉê= lÇóëëÉÉK= jáí= ÉáåÉã= e~åÇëÅÜêáÑJ íÉå~éé~ê~í=òì=^ääÉå…ë=lÇóëëÉÉ~ìëÖ~ÄÉK=NVUQK= NQ= pK=dÉçêÖá~=kìÖÉåíW=^ääÉÖçêó=~åÇ=mçÉíáÅëK=qÜÉ=píêìÅíìêÉ=~åÇ=fã~ÖÉêó=çÑ=mêìÇÉåíáìë…=Psychomachia. NVURK= NR= ^åíçå=aK=iÉÉã~åW=cçêã=ìåÇ=páååK=píìÇáÉå=òìê=ê∏ãáëÅÜÉå=iáíÉê~íìê=ENVRQJNVUQFK=NVURK= NS= tçäÑÖ~åÖ= eΩÄåÉêW= aáÉ= mÉíêçåΩÄÉêëÉíòìåÖ= táäÜÉäã= eÉáåëÉëK= nìÉääÉåâêáíáëÅÜ= ÄÉ~êÄÉáíÉíÉê= k~ÅÜÇêìÅâ=ÇÉê=bêëí~ìëÖ~ÄÉ=ãáí=íÉñíâêáíáëÅÜJÉñÉÖÉíáëÅÜÉã=hçããÉåí~êK=E_~åÇ=fJffFK=NVUSK= NT= oçä~åÇ= dä~ÉëëÉêW= sÉêÄêÉÅÜÉå= ìåÇ= sÉêÄäÉåÇìåÖK= råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖ= òìã= cìêçêJ_ÉÖêáÑÑ= ÄÉá= iìÅ~å=ãáí=_ÉêΩÅâëáÅÜíáÖìåÖ=ÇÉê=qê~Ö∏ÇáÉå=pÉåÉÅ~ëK=NVUQK= NU= cêáíòJeÉáåÉê=jìíëÅÜäÉêW=aáÉ=éçÉíáëÅÜÉ=hìåëí=qáÄìääëK=píêìâíìê=ìåÇ=_ÉÇÉìíìåÖ=ÇÉê=_ΩÅÜÉê=N= ìåÇ=O=ÇÉë=`çêéìë=qáÄìääá~åìãK=NVURK= NV= oáëã~Ö= dçêÇÉëá~åáW= hêáíÉêáÉå= ÇÉê= pÅÜêáÑíäáÅÜâÉáí= ìåÇ= jΩåÇäáÅÜâÉáí= áã= ÜçãÉêáëÅÜÉå= béçëK= NVUSK= OM= j~ÇÉäÉáåÉ=j~êó=eÉåêóW=jÉå~åÇÉê…ë=`çìêíÉë~åë=~åÇ=íÜÉ=dêÉÉâ=`çãáÅ=qê~ÇáíáçåK=NVURK=OK= ^ìÑä~ÖÉ=NVUUK= ON= _ÉêåÇ=g~åëçåW=bíóãçäçÖáëÅÜÉ=ìåÇ=ÅÜêçåçäçÖáëÅÜÉ=råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉå=òì=ÇÉå=_ÉÇáåÖìåÖÉå= ÇÉë= oÜçí~òáëãìë= áã= ^äÄ~åáëÅÜÉå= ìåíÉê= _ÉêΩÅâëáÅÜíáÖìåÖ= ÇÉê= ÖêáÉÅÜáëÅÜÉå= ìåÇ= ä~íÉáåáJ ëÅÜÉå=iÉÜåï∏êíÉêK=NVUSK= OO= bêåëí=^K=pÅÜãáÇíW=_ìâçäáëÅÜÉ=iÉáÇÉåëÅÜ~Ñí=J=çÇÉê=§ÄÉê=~åíáâÉ=eáêíÉåéçÉëáÉK=NVUTK= OP= mÉÇêç=`K=q~éá~=w∫¥áÖ~W=sçêëÅÜä~Ö=ÉáåÉë=iÉñáâçåë=òì=ÇÉå=^áíá~=ÇÉë=h~ääáã~ÅÜçëK=_ìÅÜëí~J ÄÉ=?^äéÜ~?K=NVUSK= OQ= bÄÉêÜ~êÇ= eÉÅâW= je= nblj^ubfk= çÇÉêW= aáÉ= _Éëíê~ÑìåÖ= ÇÉë= dçííÉëîÉê®ÅÜíÉêëK= råíÉêëìJ ÅÜìåÖÉå= òì= _Éâ®ãéÑìåÖ= ìåÇ= ^åÉáÖåìåÖ= ê∏ãáëÅÜÉê= êÉäáÖáç= ÄÉá= qÉêíìääá~åI= `óéêá~å= ìåÇ= i~Åí~åòK=NVUTK=

    _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ= = _~åÇ=

    OR= j~åÑêÉÇ= dÉêÜ~êÇ= pÅÜãáÇíW= `~Éë~ê= ìåÇ= `äÉçé~íê~K= mÜáäçäçÖáëÅÜÉê= ìåÇ= ÜáëíçêáëÅÜÉê= hçãJ ãÉåí~ê=òì=iìÅ~åK=NMINJNTNK=NVUSK= OS= tçäÑÖ~åÖ= g®ÖÉêW= _êáÉÑ~å~äóëÉåK= wìã= wìë~ããÉåÜ~åÖ= îçå= oÉ~äáí®íëÉêÑ~ÜêìåÖ= ìåÇ= péê~J ÅÜÉ=áå=_êáÉÑÉå=`áÅÉêçëK=NVUSK= OT= iÉïáë=^K=pìëëã~åW=qÜÉ=j~àçê=aÉÅä~ã~íáçåë=^ëÅêáÄÉÇ=íç=nìáåíáäá~åK=^=qê~åëä~íáçåK=NVUTK=

    OU= hä~ìë= hìÄìëÅÜW= ^ìêÉ~= p~ÉÅìä~W= jóíÜçë= ìåÇ= dÉëÅÜáÅÜíÉK= råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖ= ÉáåÉë= jçíáîë= áå= ÇÉê=~åíáâÉå=iáíÉê~íìê=Äáë=lîáÇK=NVUSK= = _~åÇ= OV= eÉäãìí= j~ìÅÜW= l= ä~Äçêìã= ÇìäÅÉ= äÉåáãÉåK= cìåâíáçåëÖÉëÅÜáÅÜíäáÅÜÉ= råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉå= òìê= ê∏ãáëÅÜÉå=aáÅÜíìåÖ=òïáëÅÜÉå=oÉéìÄäáâ=ìåÇ=mêáåòáé~í=~ã=_ÉáëéáÉä=ÇÉê=ÉêëíÉå=lÇÉåë~ããJ äìåÖ=ÇÉë=eçê~òK=NVUSK= = _~åÇ= PM= h~êä=jÉáëíÉêW=píìÇáÉå=òì=péê~ÅÜÉI=iáíÉê~íìê=ìåÇ=oÉäáÖáçå=ÇÉê=o∏ãÉêK=eÉê~ìëÖÉÖÉÄÉå=îçå= sáâíçê=m∏ëÅÜä=ìåÇ=jáÅÜ~Éä=îçå=^äÄêÉÅÜíK=NVUTK= = _~åÇ= PN= eìÄÉêí=jΩääÉêW=cêΩÜÉê=eìã~åáëãìë=áå=lÄÉêáí~äáÉåK=^äÄÉêíáåç=jìëë~íçW=bÅÉêáåáëK=NVUTK= = _~åÇ= PO= ^åÇêÉ~= pÅÜÉáíÜ~ìÉêW= h~áëÉêÄáäÇ= ìåÇ= äáíÉê~êáëÅÜÉë= mêçÖê~ããK= råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉå= òìê= qÉåJ ÇÉåò=ÇÉê=eáëíçêá~=^ìÖìëí~K=NVUTK= = _~åÇ= PP= `~êäçë= gK= i~êê~áåW= aáÉ= pÉåíÉåòÉå= ÇÉë= mçêéÜóêáçëK= e~åÇëÅÜêáÑíäáÅÜÉ= §ÄÉêäáÉÑÉêìåÖK= aáÉ= §ÄÉêëÉíòìåÖ=îçå=j~êëáäáç=cáÅáåçK=aÉìíëÅÜÉ=§ÄÉêëÉíòìåÖK=NVUTK= = _~åÇ= PQ= `~íÜÉêáåÉ= gK= `~ëíåÉêW= mêçëçéçÖê~éÜó= çÑ= oçã~å= béáÅìêÉ~åë= Ñêçã= íÜÉ= pÉÅçåÇ= `Éåíìêó= _K`K=íç=íÜÉ=pÉÅçåÇ=`Éåíìêó=^KaK=OåÇ=ìåÅÜ~åÖÉÇ=ÉÇáíáçåK=NVVNK= = _~åÇ= PR= d~ÄêáÉäÉ=j∏ÜäÉêW=eÉñ~ãÉíÉêëíìÇáÉå=òì=iìâêÉòI=sÉêÖáäI=eçê~òI=lîáÇI=iìâ~åI=páäáìë=fí~äáÅìë= ìåÇ=ÇÉê=fäá~ë=i~íáå~K=NVUVK= = _~åÇ= PS= `ä~ê~Jbãã~åìÉääÉ= ^ìîê~óW= cçäáÉ= Éí= açìäÉìê= Ç~åë= eÉêÅìäÉ= cìêáÉìñ= Éí= eÉêÅìäÉ= ëìê= äDlÉí~K= oÉÅÜÉêÅÜÉë=ëìê=äDÉñéêÉëëáçå=ÉëíܨíáèìÉ=ÇÉ=äD~ëÅ≠ëÉ=ëíç≥ÅáÉååÉ=ÅÜÉò=p¨å≠èìÉK=NVUVK= = _~åÇ= PT= qÜçã~ë=tÉÄÉêW=cáÇìë=^ÅÜ~íÉëK=aÉê=dÉÑ®ÜêíÉ=ÇÉë=^ÉåÉ~ë=áå=sÉêÖáäë=^ÉåÉáëK=NVUUK= = _~åÇ= PU= t~äíê~ìí= aÉëÅÜW= ^ìÖìëíáåë= `çåÑÉëëáçåÉëK= _ÉçÄ~ÅÜíìåÖÉå= òì= jçíáîÄÉëí~åÇ= ìåÇ= dÉÇ~åJ âÉåÄÉïÉÖìåÖK=NVUUK= = _~åÇ= PV= j~êá~J_~êÄ~ê~=nìáåíW=råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉå=òìê=ãáííÉä~äíÉêäáÅÜÉå=eçê~òJoÉòÉéíáçåK=NVUUK= = _~åÇ= QM= bìÖÉåÉ=jáÅÜ~Éä=lD`çååçêW=póãÄçäìã=p~ä~Åáí~íáëK=^=píìÇó=çÑ=íÜÉ=dçÇ=mêá~éìë=~ë=~=iáíÉJ ê~êó=`Ü~ê~ÅíÉêK=NVUVK= = _~åÇ= QN= jáÅÜ~Éä=îçå=^äÄêÉÅÜíW=pÅêáéí~=i~íáå~K=^ÅÅÉÇìåí=î~êáçêìã=`~êãáå~=eÉáÇÉäÄÉêÖÉåëá~=ÇáëëÉêJ í~íáìåÅìä~É=Åçääçèìá~K=NVUVK= = _~åÇ= QO= tÉêåÉê=oìíòW=píìÇáÉå=òìê=hçãéçëáíáçåëâìåëí=ìåÇ=òìê=ÉéáëÅÜÉå=qÉÅÜåáâ=iìÅ~åëK=eÉê~ìëJ ÖÉÖÉÄÉå= ìåÇ= ãáí= ÉáåÉã= ÄáÄäáçÖê~éÜáëÅÜÉå= k~ÅÜïçêí= îÉêëÉÜÉå= îçå= ^åÇêÉ~ë= tK= pÅÜãáííK= NVUVK= = _~åÇ= QP= eÉåêá=iÉ=_çååáÉÅW=bíìÇÉë=çîáÇáÉååÉëK=fåíêçÇìÅíáçå=~ìñ=Fastes=ÇDlîáÇÉK=NVUVK= = _~åÇ= QQ= píÉÑ~å=jÉêâäÉW=aáÉ=béÜÉãÉêáë=ÄÉääá=qêçá~åá=ÇÉë=aáâíóë=îçå=hêÉí~K=NVUVK= = _~åÇ= QR= jáÅÜ~Éä=d~Ö~êáåW=qÜÉ=jìêÇÉê=çÑ=eÉêçÇÉëK=^=píìÇó=çÑ=^åíáéÜçå=RK=NVUVK= = _~åÇ= QS= gç~ÅÜáã=cìÖã~ååW=h∏åáÖëòÉáí=ìåÇ=cêΩÜÉ=oÉéìÄäáâ=áå=ÇÉê=pÅÜêáÑí= De viris illustribus urbis Romae.=nìÉääÉåâêáíáëÅÜJÜáëíçêáëÅÜÉ=råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉåK=NVVMK= = _~åÇ= QT= p~ÄáåÉ=dêÉÄÉW=aáÉ=îÉêÖáäáëÅÜÉ=eÉäÇÉåëÅÜ~ìK=qê~Çáíáçå=ìåÇ=cçêíïáêâÉåK=NVUVK= = _~åÇ= QU= _~êÇç= j~êá~= d~ìäóW= iáÉÄÉëÉêÑ~ÜêìåÖÉåK= wìê= oçääÉ= ÇÉë= ÉäÉÖáëÅÜÉå= fÅÜ= áå= lîáÇë= ^ãçêÉëK= NVVMK= = _~åÇ= QV= g∏êÖ= j~ìêÉêW= råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉå= òìê= éçÉíáëÅÜÉå= qÉÅÜåáâ= ìåÇ= ÇÉå= sçêÄáäÇÉêå= ÇÉê= ^êá~ÇåÉJ béáëíÉä=lîáÇëKNVVMK=

    _~åÇ= RM= h~êÉäáë~=sK=e~êíáÖ~åW=^ãÄáÖìáíó=~åÇ=pÉäÑJaÉÅÉéíáçåK=qÜÉ=^éçääç=~åÇ=^êíÉãáë=mä~óë=çÑ=bìJ êáéáÇÉëK=NVVNK= = _~åÇ= RN= eÉêã~åå=iáåÇW=aÉê=dÉêÄÉê=häÉçå=áå=ÇÉå=DoáííÉêåD=ÇÉë=^êáëíçéÜ~åÉëK=píìÇáÉå=òìê=aÉã~ÖçJ ÖÉåâçã∏ÇáÉK=NVVMK= = _~åÇ= RO= ^äÉñ~åÇê~=_~êíÉåÄ~ÅÜW=jçíáîJ=ìåÇ=bêò®Üäëíêìâíìê=áå=lîáÇë=jÉí~ãçêéÜçëÉåK=a~ë=sÉêÜ®äíJ åáë= îçå= o~ÜãÉåJ= ìåÇ= _áååÉåÉêò®ÜäìåÖÉå= áã= RKI= NMK= ìåÇ= NRK= _ìÅÜ= îçå= lîáÇë= jÉí~ãçêJ éÜçëÉåK=NVVMK= = _~åÇ= RP= gΩêÖÉå=pÅÜãáÇíW=iìâêÉòI=ÇÉê=hÉéçë=ìåÇ=ÇáÉ=píçáâÉêK=råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉå=òìê=pÅÜìäÉ=béáâìêë= ìåÇ=òì=ÇÉå=nìÉääÉå=îçå=De rerum natura.=NVVMK= = _~åÇ= RQ= j~êíáå=dä~ííW=aáÉ=D~åÇÉêÉ=tÉäíD=ÇÉê=ê∏ãáëÅÜÉå=bäÉÖáâÉêK=a~ë=mÉêë∏åäáÅÜÉ=áå=ÇÉê=iáÉÄÉëÇáÅÜJ íìåÖK=NVVNK= = _~åÇ= RR= gçÜå=cK=jáääÉêW=lîáÇDë=bäÉÖá~Å=cÉëíáî~äëK=píìÇáÉë=áå=íÜÉ=Fasti. NVVNK= = _~åÇ= RS= bäáë~ÄÉíÜ=s~åÇáîÉêW=eÉêçÉë=áå=eÉêçÇçíìëK=qÜÉ=fåíÉê~Åíáçå=çÑ=jóíÜ=~åÇ=eáëíçêóK=NVVNK= = _~åÇ= RT= cê~åâJgç~ÅÜáã= páãçåW=q~X=âìîää= à=~àÉáîÇÉáåK=fåíÉêéêÉí~íáçåÉå=òì= ÇÉå=jáãá~ãÄÉå= ÇÉë=eÉJ êçÇ~ëK=NVVNK= = _~åÇ= RU= ^êíÜìê= gK= mçãÉêçóW= qÜÉ= ^ééêçéêá~íÉ= `çããÉåíK= aÉ~íÜ= kçíáÅÉë= áå= íÜÉ= ^åÅáÉåí= Üáëíçêá~åëK= NVVNK== = _~åÇ= RV= j~êíáå~=h∏íòäÉW=tÉáÄäáÅÜÉ=dçííÜÉáíÉå=áå=lîáÇë=c~ëíÉåK=NVVNK= = _~åÇ= SM= däóåå=jÉíÉêW=t~äíÉê=çÑ=`ÜßíáääçåDë=^äÉñ~åÇêÉáë=_ççâ=NMÓ^=ÅçããÉåí~êóK=NVVNK== = _~åÇ= SN= _ìêÖÜ~êÇ=pÅÜê∏ÇÉêW=`~êãáå~=åçå=èì~É=åÉãçê~äÉ=êÉëìäíÉåíK=báå=hçããÉåí~ê=òìê=QK=bâäçÖÉ= ÇÉë=`~äéìêåáìë=páÅìäìëK=NVVNK= = _~åÇ= SO= jáÅÜÉäÉ=sK=oçååáÅâW=`áÅÉêçDë=m~ê~Ççñ~=píçáÅçêìãK=^=`çããÉåí~êóI=~å=fåíÉêéêÉí~íáçå=~åÇ= ~=píìÇó=çÑ=fíë=fåÑäìÉåÅÉK=NVVNK= = _~åÇ= SP= j~êó=cê~åÅÉë=táääá~ãëW=i~åÇëÅ~éÉ=áå=íÜÉ=Argonautica=çÑ=^éçääçåáìë=oÜçÇáìëK=NVVOK= = _~åÇ= SQ= `ÜêáëíáåÉ=t~äÇÉW=eÉêÅìäÉìë=ä~ÄçêK=píìÇáÉå=òìã=éëÉìÇçëÉåÉÅ~åáëÅÜÉå=eÉêÅìäÉë=lÉí~ÉìëK= NVVOK= = _~åÇ= SR= ^åå~=bäáëë~=o~ÇâÉW=e~êãçåáÅ~=îáíêÉ~K=NVVOK= = _~åÇ= SS= tÉêåÉê=pÅÜìÄÉêíW=aáÉ=jóíÜçäçÖáÉ=áå=ÇÉå=åáÅÜíãóíÜçäçÖáëÅÜÉå=aáÅÜíìåÖÉå=lîáÇëK=NVVOK= = _~åÇ= ST= h~êä= d~äáåëâó= EeêëÖKFW= qÜÉ= áåíÉêéêÉí~íáçå= çÑ= oçã~å= éçÉíêóK= bãéáêáÅáëã= çê= ÜÉêãÉåÉìíáÅë\= NVVOK= = _~åÇ= SU= ^äÉñ~åÇÉê=hÉëëáëëçÖäìW=aáÉ=ÑΩåÑíÉ=sçêêÉÇÉ=áå=sáíêìîë=aÉ=~êÅÜáíÉÅíìê~K=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= SV= mÉíÉê=mêÉëíÉäW=aáÉ=oÉòÉéíáçå=ÇÉê=ÅáÅÉêçåáëÅÜÉå=oÜÉíçêáâ=ÇìêÅÜ=^ìÖìëíáåìë=áå=aÉ=ÇçÅíêáå~= `Üêáëíá~å~K=NVVOK= = _~åÇ= TM= rêëìä~=eÉÅÜíW=aÉê=mäìíç=ÑìêÉåë=ÇÉë=mÉíêìë=j~êíóê=^åÖäÉêáìëK=aáÅÜíìåÖ=~äë=açâìãÉåí~íáçåK= NVVOK= = _~åÇ= TN= oáÅÜ~êÇ= i~èìÉìêW= aáçÇçêë= dÉëÅÜáÅÜíëïÉêâK= aáÉ= §ÄÉêäáÉÑÉêìåÖ= îçå= _ìÅÜ= f= J= sK= ^ìë= ÇÉã= k~ÅÜä~≈=ÜÉê~ìëÖÉÖÉÄÉå=îçå=h~á=_êçÇÉêëÉåK=NVVOK= = _~åÇ= TO= `ÜêáëíáåÉ= hçêíÉåW= lîáÇI= ^ìÖìëíìë= ìåÇ= ÇÉê= hìäí= ÇÉê= sÉëí~äáååÉåK= báåÉ= êÉäáÖáçåëéçäáíáëÅÜÉ= qÜÉëÉ=òìê=sÉêÄ~ååìåÖ=lîáÇëK=NVVOK= = _~åÇ= TP= hìêí= pÅÜÉáÇäÉW= jçÇìë= çéíìãìãK= aáÉ= _ÉÇÉìíìåÖ= ÇÉë= ?êÉÅÜíÉå= j~≈Éë?= áå= ÇÉê= ê∏ãáëÅÜÉå= iáíÉê~íìê=EoÉéìÄäáâ= Ó=ÑêΩÜÉ= h~áëÉêòÉáíFI=ìåíÉêëìÅÜí= ~å= ÇÉå= _ÉÖêáÑÑÉå= jçÇìë=Ó= jçÇÉëíá~= Ó= jçÇÉê~íáç=Ó=qÉãéÉê~åíá~K=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= TQ= páÄóääÉ=qçÅÜíÉêã~ååW=aÉê=~ääÉÖçêáëÅÜ=ÖÉÇÉìíÉíÉ=háêâÉJjóíÜçëK=píìÇáÉå=òìê=båíïáÅâäìåÖëJ= ìåÇ=oÉòÉéíáçåëÖÉëÅÜáÅÜíÉK=NVVOK=

    _~åÇ= TR= e~åëÖÉêÇ=cê~åâW=Ratio=ÄÉá=`áÅÉêçK=NVVOK= = _~åÇ= TS= dΩåíÉê=hä~ìëÉW=aáÉ=mÉêáéÜê~ëÉ=ÇÉê=kçãáå~=éêçéêá~=ÄÉá=sÉêÖáäK=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= TT= gÉääÉ= _çìã~W= j~êÅìë= fìåáìë= kóéëìë= Ó= cäìãáåáë= s~ê~íáç= L= iáãáíáë= oÉéçëáíáçK= fåíêçÇìÅíáçåI= qÉñíI=qê~åëä~íáçå=~åÇ=`çããÉåí~êóK=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= TU= p~ÄáåÉ= oçÅÜäáíòW= a~ë= _áäÇ= `~Éë~êë= áå= `áÅÉêçë= Orationes Caesarianae.= råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉå= òìê clementia=ìåÇ sapientia Caesaris.=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= TV= ^åå~=ióÇá~=jçííç=L=gçÜå=oK=`ä~êâW=bëë~óë=çå=pÉåÉÅ~K=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= UM= bêåëí=wáååW=sáî~=sçñK=o∏ãáëÅÜÉ=hä~ëëáâ=ìåÇ=ÇÉìíëÅÜÉ=aáÅÜíìåÖK=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= UN= eÉÉJpÉçåÖ= háãW= aáÉ= dÉáëíí~ìÑÉ= ÇÉë= jÉëëá~ëK= báåÉ= âçãéçëáíáçåëÖÉëÅÜáÅÜíäáÅÜÉ= råíÉêëìJ ÅÜìåÖ= òì= ÉáåÉã= iÉáíãçíáî= ÇÉë= äìâ~åáëÅÜÉå= açééÉäïÉêâëK= báå= _Éáíê~Ö= òìê= qÜÉçäçÖáÉ= ìåÇ= fåíÉåíáçå=ÇÉë=iìâ~ëK=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= UO= qáäã~åå=iÉáÇáÖW=s~äÉêáìë=^åíá~ë=ìåÇ=Éáå=~åå~äáëíáëÅÜÉê=_É~êÄÉáíÉê=ÇÉë=mçäóÄáçë=~äë=nìÉääÉå= ÇÉë=iáîáìëI=îçêåÉÜãäáÅÜ=ÑΩê=_ìÅÜ=PM=ìåÇ=PNK=NVVQK= = _~åÇ= UP= qÜçã~ë=wáåëã~áÉêW=aÉê=îçå=_çêÇ=ÖÉïçêÑÉåÉ=iÉáÅÜå~ãK=aáÉ=ëÉÅÜëíÉ=ÇÉê=åÉìåòÉÜå=Öê∏≈ÉJ êÉå=éëÉìÇçèìáåíáäá~åáëÅÜÉå=aÉâä~ã~íáçåÉåK=báåäÉáíìåÖI=§ÄÉêëÉíòìåÖI=hçããÉåí~êK=NVVPK= = _~åÇ= UQ= sáÅíçêá~=qáÉíòÉ=i~êëçåW=qÜÉ=oçäÉ=çÑ=aÉëÅêáéíáçå=áå=pÉåÉÅ~å=qê~ÖÉÇóK=NVVQK= = _~åÇ= UR= bìÖÉå=_ê~ìåW=iìâá~åK=råíÉê=ÇçééÉäíÉê=^åâä~ÖÉK=báå=hçããÉåí~êK=NVVQK= = _~åÇ= US= p~ÄáåÉ=tÉÇåÉêW=qê~Çáíáçå=ìåÇ=t~åÇÉä=áã=~ääÉÖçêáëÅÜÉå=sÉêëí®åÇåáë=ÇÉë=páêÉåÉåãóíÜçëK= báå=_Éáíê~Ö=òìê=oÉòÉéíáçåëÖÉëÅÜáÅÜíÉ=eçãÉêëK=NVVQK= = _~åÇ= UT= h~êäÜÉêã~åå= _ÉêÖåÉêW=aÉê=p~éáÉåíá~J_ÉÖêáÑÑ= áã= hçããÉåí~ê=ÇÉë=j~êáìë= sáÅíçêáåìë=òì=`áJ ÅÉêçë=gìÖÉåÇïÉêâ=De Inventione.=NVVQK= = _~åÇ= UU= ^åÖÉäáâ~=pÉáÄÉäW=sçäâëîÉêÑΩÜêìåÖ=~äë=ëÅÜ∏åÉ=hìåëíK=aáÉ=aá~éÉáê~=áã=òïÉáíÉå=dÉë~åÖ=ÇÉê= fäá~ë=~äë=Éáå=iÉÜêëíΩÅâ=ÇÉã~ÖçÖáëÅÜÉê=ûëíÜÉíáâK=NVVQK= = _~åÇ= UV= d~ÄêáÉäÉ= iÉÇïçêìëâáW= eáëíçêáçÖê~éÜáëÅÜÉ= táÇÉêëéêΩÅÜÉ= áå= ÇÉê= jçåçÖê~éÜáÉ= p~ääìëíë= òìê= `~íáäáå~êáëÅÜÉå=sÉêëÅÜï∏êìåÖK=NVVQK= = _~åÇ= VM= ^äÇç=pÉí~áçäáW=i~=îáÅÉåÇ~=ÇÉääD~åáã~=åÉä=ÅçããÉåíç=Çá=pÉêîáç=~=sáêÖáäáçK=NVVRK= = _~åÇ= VN= g~ãÉë=pK=eáêëíÉáåW=q~ÅáíìëD=dÉêã~åá~=~åÇ=_É~íìë=oÜÉå~åìë=ENQURJNRQTFK=^=píìÇó=çÑ=íÜÉ= bÇáíçêá~ä=~åÇ=bñÉÖÉíáÅ~ä=`çåíêáÄìíáçå=çÑ=~=páñíÉÉåíÜ=`Éåíìêó=pÅÜçä~êK=NVVRK= = _~åÇ= VO= qÜçã~ë=pí®ÅâÉêW=aáÉ=píÉääìåÖ=ÇÉê=qÜÉìêÖáÉ=áå=ÇÉê=iÉÜêÉ=g~ãÄäáÅÜëK=NVVRK= = _~åÇ= VP= bÖÉêí=m∏Üäã~ååW=píìÇáÉå=òìê=_ΩÜåÉåÇáÅÜíìåÖ=ìåÇ=òìã=qÜÉ~íÉêÄ~ì=ÇÉê=^åíáâÉK=NVVRK= = _~åÇ= VQ= _~êÄ~ê~=cÉáÅÜíáåÖÉêW=^éçëíçä~É=~éçëíçäçêìãK=cê~ìÉå~ëâÉëÉ=~äë=_ÉÑêÉáìåÖ=ìåÇ=wï~åÖ=ÄÉá= eáÉêçåóãìëK=NVVRK= = _~åÇ= VR= ^åÇêÉ~ë=tK=pÅÜãáííW=aáÉ=ÇáêÉâíÉå=oÉÇÉå=ÇÉê=j~ëëÉå=áå=iìÅ~åë=mÜ~êë~äá~K=NVVRK= = _~åÇ= VS= _ìêâ~êÇ=`Üï~äÉâW=aáÉ=sÉêï~åÇäìåÖ=ÇÉë=bñáäë=áå=ÇáÉ=ÉäÉÖáëÅÜÉ=tÉäíK=píìÇáÉå=òì=ÇÉå=Tristia= ìåÇ=Epistulae ex Ponto=lîáÇëK=NVVSK= = _~åÇ= VT= ^ñÉä= pΩííÉêäáåW= mÉíêçåáìë= ^êÄáíÉê= ìåÇ= cÉÇÉêáÅç= cÉääáåáK= báå= ëíêìâíìê~å~äóíáëÅÜÉê= sÉêÖäÉáÅÜK= NVVSK= = _~åÇ= VU= läÉÖ=káâáíáåëâáW=h~ääáã~ÅÜçëJpíìÇáÉåK=NVVSK= = _~åÇ= VV= `Üêáëíá~åÉ=oÉáíòW=wìê=däÉáÅÜåáëíÉÅÜåáâ=ÇÉë=^éçääçåáçë=îçå=oÜçÇçëK=NVVSK= = _~åÇ= NMM= tÉêåÉê= pÅÜìÄÉêí= EeêëÖKFW= lîáÇ= Ó= tÉêâ= ìåÇ= táêâìåÖK= cÉëíÖ~ÄÉ= ÑΩê= jáÅÜ~Éä= îçå= ^äÄêÉÅÜí= òìã=SRK=dÉÄìêíëí~ÖK=NVVVK== = _~åÇ= NMN= j~êíáå= hçêÉåà~âW= aáÉ= bêáÅíÜçëòÉåÉ= áå= iìâ~åë= PharsaliaK= báåäÉáíìåÖI= qÉñíI= §ÄÉêëÉíòìåÖI= hçããÉåí~êK=NVVSK==

    _~åÇ= NMO= p~ÄáåÉ=pÅÜ®ÑÉêW=a~ë=tÉäíÄáäÇ=ÇÉê=sÉêÖáäáëÅÜÉå=Georgika=áå=ëÉáåÉã=sÉêÜ®äíåáë=òì=De rerum natura=ÇÉë=iìâêÉòK=NVVSK= == _~åÇ= NMP= ^åÇêÉ~ë= mêçå~ó= EeêëÖKFW= `K= j~êáìë= sáÅíçêáåìëW= iáÄÉê= ÇÉ= ÇÉÑáåáíáçåáÄìëK= báåÉ= ëé®í~åíáâÉ= qÜÉçêáÉ=ÇÉê=aÉÑáåáíáçå=ìåÇ=ÇÉë=aÉÑáåáÉêÉåëK=jáí=báåäÉáíìåÖI=§ÄÉêëÉíòìåÖ=ìåÇ=hçããÉåí~êK= NVVTK== = _~åÇ= NMQ= m~çä~=jáÖäáçêáåáW=pÅáÉåò~=É=íÉêãáåçäçÖá~=ãÉÇáÅ~=åÉää~=äÉííÉê~íìê~=Çá=Éí¶=åÉêçåá~å~K=pÉåÉÅ~I= iìÅ~åçI=mÉêëáçI=mÉíêçåáçK=NVVTK= = _~åÇ= NMR= bî~J`~êáå=dÉê∏W=kÉÖ~íáîÉë=~åÇ=kçìå=mÜê~ëÉë=áå=`ä~ëëáÅ~ä=dêÉÉâK=^å=fåîÉëíáÖ~íáçå=_~ëÉÇ= çå=íÜÉ=Corpus PlatonicumK=NVVTK== = _~åÇ= NMS= jÉêÅÉÇÉë=j~ìÅÜW=pÉåÉÅ~ë=cê~ìÉåÄáäÇ=áå=ÇÉå=éÜáäçëçéÜáëÅÜÉå=pÅÜêáÑíÉåK=NVVTK== = _~åÇ= NMT= qÜêÉåá= ã~Öáëíêá= åçëíêá= fç~ååáë= bÅâáá= áå= çÄáíì= j~êÖ~êÉí~É= ÅçåÅìÄáå~É= ëì~ÉK= råíÉêëìÅÜíI= ÉÇáÉêíI=ΩÄÉêëÉíòí=ìåÇ=âçããÉåíáÉêí=îçå=cê~åò=t~ÅÜáåÖÉêK=NVVTK== = _~åÇ= NMU= oçä~åÇ=dê~åçÄëW=píìÇáÉå=òìê=a~êëíÉääìåÖ=ê∏ãáëÅÜÉê=dÉëÅÜáÅÜíÉ=áå=lîáÇë=MetamorphosenK= NVVTK== = _~åÇ= NMV= aá~åÉ=_áíòÉäW=_Éêå~êÇç=w~ã~Öå~=?k~îáë=^Øêá~?K=báåÉ=jÉí~ãçêéÜçëÉ=ÇÉë=iÉÜêÖÉÇáÅÜíë=áã= wÉáÅÜÉå=ÇÉë=íÉÅÜåáëÅÜÉå=cçêíëÅÜêáííëK=NVVTK== = _~åÇ= NNM= gç~ÅÜáã=cìÖã~ååW=h∏åáÖëòÉáí=ìåÇ=cêΩÜÉ=oÉéìÄäáâ=áå=ÇÉê=pÅÜêáÑí= De viris illustribus urbis RomaeK=nìÉääÉåâêáíáëÅÜJÜáëíçêáëÅÜÉ=råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖK=ffINW=cêΩÜÉ=oÉéìÄäáâ=ESKLRK=gÜKFK=NVVTK== = _~åÇ= NNN= m~ìä=dê∏≈äÉáåW=råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉå=òìã=Juppiter confutatus=iìâá~åëK=NVVUK== = _~åÇ= NNO= gìä~= táäÇÄÉêÖÉêW= lîáÇë= pÅÜìäÉ= ÇÉê= DÉäÉÖáëÅÜÉåD= iáÉÄÉK= bêçíçÇáÇ~ñÉ= ìåÇ= mëóÅÜ~ÖçÖáÉ= áå= ÇÉê=Ars amatoriaK=NVVUK== = _~åÇ= NNP= ^åÇêÉ~ë=e~äíÉåÜçÑÑW=hêáíáâ=ÇÉê=~â~ÇÉãáëÅÜÉå=pâÉéëáëK=báå=hçããÉåí~ê=òì=`áÅÉêçI=iìÅìääìë= NJSOK=NVVUK== = _~åÇ= NNQ= tçäÑÖ~åÖ=c~ìíÜW=`~êãÉå=ã~ÖáÅìãK=a~ë=qÜÉã~=ÇÉê=j~ÖáÉ=áå=ÇÉê=aáÅÜíìåÖ=ÇÉê=ê∏ãáëÅÜÉå= h~áëÉêòÉáíK=NVVVK== = _~åÇ= NNR= oçë~êáç=dì~êáåç=lêíÉÖ~W=içë=ÅçãÉåí~êáçë=~ä=Ibis=ÇÉ=lîáÇáçK=bä=ä~êÖç=êÉÅçêêáÇç=ÇÉ=ìå~=Éñ¨J ÖÉëáëK=NVVVK== = _~åÇ= NNS= cê~åÅÉëÅ~= mêÉëÅÉåÇáW= cêΩÜòÉáí= ìåÇ= dÉÖÉåï~êíK= báåÉ= píìÇáÉ= òìê= ^ìÑÑ~ëëìåÖ= ìåÇ= dÉëí~äJ íìåÖ=ÇÉê=sÉêÖ~åÖÉåÜÉáí=áå=lîáÇë=Fastorum libriK=OMMMK== = _~åÇ= NNT= e~åë= _ÉêåëÇçêÑÑW= hìåëíïÉêâÉ= ìåÇ= sÉêï~åÇäìåÖÉåK= sáÉê= píìÇáÉå= òì= áÜêÉê= a~êëíÉääìåÖ= áã= tÉêâ=lîáÇëK=OMMMK== = _~åÇ= NNU= jáäÉå~=jáåâçî~W=qÜÉ=mÉêëçå~ä=k~ãÉë=çÑ=íÜÉ=i~íáå=fåëÅêáéíáçåë=áå=_ìäÖ~êá~K=OMMMK== = _~åÇ= NNV= ^ìêçê~=iµéÉò=L=^åÇê¨ë=mçÅá¥~W=bëíìÇáçë=ëçÄêÉ=ÅçãÉÇá~=êçã~å~K=OMMMK== = _~åÇ= NOM= j~êíáå~=bêÇã~ååW=§ÄÉêêÉÇÉåÇÉ=oÉÇÉå=áå=sÉêÖáäë=^ÉåÉáëK=OMMMK== = _~åÇ= NON= cê~åâ= _ÉìíÉäW= sÉêÖ~åÖÉåÜÉáí= ~äë= mçäáíáâK= kÉìÉ= ^ëéÉâíÉ= áã= tÉêâ= ÇÉë= àΩåÖÉêÉå= mäáåáìëK= OMMMK== = _~åÇ= NOO= ^åå~=ióÇá~=jçííçW=cìêíÜÉê=bëë~óë=çå=pÉåÉÅ~K=OMMMK== = _~åÇ= NOP= g~îáÉê=sÉä~ò~W=Itur in antiquam silvamK=rå=ÉëíìÇáç=ëçÄêÉ=ä~=íê~ÇáÅáµå=~åíáÖì~=ÇÉä=íÉñíç=ÇÉ= sáêÖáäáçK=OMMNK== = _~åÇ= NOQ= táääá~ã=bK=tóÅáëäçW=pÉåÉÅ~Dë=béáëíçä~êó ResponsumK=qÜÉ De Ira=~ë=m~êçÇóK=OMMNK== = _~åÇ= NOR= `ÜêáëíçéÜÉê=k~éé~W=^ëéÉÅíë=çÑ=`~íìääìëD=pçÅá~ä=cáÅíáçåK=OMMNK== = _~åÇ= NOS= `ÜêáëíçéÜÉê=cê~åÅÉëÉW=m~êíÜÉåáìë=çÑ=káÅ~É~=~åÇ=oçã~å=mçÉíêóK=OMMNK== = =

    _~åÇ= NOT= h~êÉäáë~= sK= e~êíáÖ~åW= jìëÉ= çå= j~Çáëçå= ^îÉåìÉK= `ä~ëëáÅ~ä= jóíÜçäçÖó= áå= `çåíÉãéçê~êó= ^ÇîÉêíáëáåÖK=OMMOK== = _~åÇ= NOU= jáäÉå~= jáåâçî~W= qÜÉ= mêçíÉ~å= RatioK= kçíáç= îÉêÄá= rationis= ~Ä= fç~ååÉ= pÅçííç= bêáìÖÉå~= ~Ç= qÜçã~ã=^èìáå~íÉã=EëóåÅÜêçåáÅÉ=Éí=Çá~ÅÜêçåáÅÉFK=OMMNK== = _~åÇ= NOV= ^åíàÉ= pÅÜ®ÑÉêW= sÉêÖáäë= bâäçÖÉå= P= ìåÇ= T= áå= ÇÉê= qê~Çáíáçå= ÇÉê= ä~íÉáåáëÅÜÉå= píêÉáíÇáÅÜíìåÖK= báåÉ=a~êëíÉääìåÖ=~åÜ~åÇ=~ìëÖÉï®ÜäíÉê=qÉñíÉ=ÇÉê=^åíáâÉ=ìåÇ=ÇÉë=jáííÉä~äíÉêëK=OMMNK== = _~åÇ= NPM= `Üêáëíá~å= oìÇçäÑ= o~ëÅÜäÉW= mÉëíÉë= e~êÉå~ÉK= aáÉ= pÅÜä~åÖÉåÉéáëçÇÉ= áå= iìÅ~åë= mÜ~êë~äá~= Efu=RUTJVQVFK=báåäÉáíìåÖI=qÉñíI=§ÄÉêëÉíòìåÖI=hçããÉåí~êK=OMMNK== = _~åÇ= NPN= g∏êÖ=pÅÜìäíÉJ^äíÉÇçêåÉÄìêÖW=dÉëÅÜáÅÜíäáÅÜÉë=e~åÇÉäå=ìåÇ=íê~ÖáëÅÜÉë=pÅÜÉáíÉêåK=eÉêçÇçíë= hçåòÉéí=ÜáëíçêáçÖê~éÜáëÅÜÉê=jáãÉëáëK=OMMNK== = _~åÇ= NPO= páäîá~= píêçÇÉäW= wìê= §ÄÉêäáÉÑÉêìåÖ= ìåÇ= òìã= sÉêëí®åÇåáë= ÇÉê= ÜÉääÉåáëíáëÅÜÉå= qÉÅÜåçJ é~áÖåáÉåK=OMMOK== = _~åÇ== NPP= cê~åÅáë=oçÄÉêí=pÅÜï~êíòW=iìÅ~åë=qÉãéìëÖÉÄê~ìÅÜK=qÉñíëóåí~ñ=ìåÇ=bêò®ÜäâìåëíK=OMMOK= = _~åÇ= NPQ= oΩÇáÖÉê=káÉÜäW=sÉêÖáäë=sÉêÖáäW=pÉäÄëíòáí~í=ìåÇ=pÉäÄëíÇÉìíìåÖ=áå=ÇÉê=AeneisK=báå=hçããÉåí~ê= ìåÇ=fåíÉêéêÉí~íáçåÉåK=OMMOK== = _~åÇ== NPR= ^åÇêÉ~ë= eÉáäW= ^äã~= ^ÉåÉáëK= píìÇáÉå= òìê= sÉêÖáäJ= ìåÇ= pí~íáìëêÉòÉéíáçå= a~åíÉ= ^äáÖÜáÉêáëK= OMMOK= = _~åÇ= NPS= bäáò~ÄÉíÜ= eK= pìíÜÉêä~åÇW= eçê~ÅÉDë= tÉääJqê~áåÉÇ= oÉ~ÇÉêK= qçï~êÇ= ~= jÉíÜçÇçäçÖó= çÑ= ^ìJ ÇáÉåÅÉ=m~êíáÅáé~íáçå=áå=íÜÉ=OdesK=OMMOK= = _~åÇ= NPT= píÉéÜ~å=eçíòW=jçÜ~ããÉÇ=ìåÇ=ëÉáåÉ=iÉÜêÉ= áå=ÇÉê=a~êëíÉääìåÖ=~ÄÉåÇä®åÇáëÅÜÉê=^ìíçêÉå= îçã=ëé®íÉå=NNK= Äáë=òìê=jáííÉ=ÇÉë=NOK=g~ÜêÜìåÇÉêíëK=^ëéÉâíÉI=nìÉääÉå=ìåÇ=qÉåÇÉåòÉå= áå= hçåíáåìáí®í=ìåÇ=t~åÇÉäK=OMMOK= = _~åÇ= NPU= `Üêóë~åíÜÉ= qëáíëáçìJ`ÜÉäáÇçåáW= lîáÇI= Metamorphosen= _ìÅÜ= sfffK= k~êê~íáîÉ= qÉÅÜåáâ= ìåÇ= äáíÉê~êáëÅÜÉê=hçåíÉñíK=OMMPK== = _~åÇ= NPV= oçë~=d~êÅ∞~=dìíá¨êêÉò=L=bäçó=k~î~êêç=açã∞åÖìÉò=L=s~äÉåí∞å=k∫¥Éò=oáîÉê~=EÉÇëKFW=ríçé∞~K= içë=Éëé~Åáçë=áãéçëáÄäÉëK=OMMPK= = _~åÇ= NQM= `K= s~äÉêáìë= cä~ÅÅìëW= ^êÖçå~ìíáÅ~= L= aáÉ= pÉåÇìåÖ= ÇÉê= ^êÖçå~ìíÉåK= i~íÉáåáëÅÜ= L= aÉìíëÅÜK= eÉê~ìëÖÉÖÉÄÉåI=ΩÄÉêëÉíòí=ìåÇ=âçããÉåíáÉêí=îçå=m~ìä=aê®ÖÉêK=OMMPK= = _~åÇ= NQN= ^åíçåáç= j~ìêáò= j~êí∞åÉòW= i~= é~ä~Äê~= ó= Éä= ëáäÉåÅáç= Éå= Éä= ÉéáëçÇáç= ~ãçêçëç= ÇÉ= ä~= båÉáÇ~K= OMMPK= = _~åÇ= NQO= gç~ÅÜáã=cìÖã~ååW=h∏åáÖëòÉáí=ìåÇ=cêΩÜÉ=oÉéìÄäáâ=áå=ÇÉê=pÅÜêáÑí=?aÉ=îáêáë=áääìëíêáÄìë=ìêÄáë= oçã~É?K= nìÉääÉåâêáíáëÅÜJÜáëíçêáëÅÜÉ= råíÉêëìÅÜìåÖÉåK= ffIOW= cêΩÜÉ= oÉéìÄäáâ= EQKLPK= gÜKFK= OMMQK= = _~åÇ= NQP= wëáÖãçåÇ=oáíçµâW=dêáÉÅÜáëÅÜÉ=jìëáâ®ëíÜÉíáâK=nìÉääÉå=òìê=dÉëÅÜáÅÜíÉ=ÇÉê=~åíáâÉå=ÖêáÉÅÜáJ ëÅÜÉå=jìëáâ®ëíÜÉíáâK=^ìë=ÇÉã=dêáÉÅÜáëÅÜÉå=ΩÄÉêëÉíòí=îçå=e~ÇïáÖ=eÉäãëK=OMMQK= = _~åÇ= NQQ= píìÇá~=eìã~åáí~íáë=~Å=iáííÉê~êìã=qêáÑçäáç=eÉáÇÉäÄÉêÖÉåëá=ÇÉÇáÅ~í~K=cÉëíëÅÜêáÑí=ÑΩê=bÅâÜ~êÇ= `Üêáëíã~ååI=táäÑêáÉÇ=bÇÉäã~áÉê=ìåÇ=oìÇçäÑ=hÉííÉã~ååK=eÉê~ìëÖÉÖÉÄÉå=îçå=^åÖÉä~=eçêJ åìåÖI=`Üêáëíá~å=g®âÉä=ìåÇ=tÉêåÉê=pÅÜìÄÉêíK=OMMQK= = _~åÇ= NQR= jçåáÅ~= ^ÑÑçêíìå~íáW= mäìí~êÅçW= sáí~= Çá= _êìíçK= fåíêçÇìòáçåÉ= É= `çããÉåíç= píçêáÅçK= bÇáíç= Ç~= _~êÄ~ê~=pÅ~êÇáÖäáK=OMMQK= = _~åÇ= NQS= hìêí= t~ää~íW= Sequitur clades= Ó= aáÉ= sáÖáäÉë= áã= ~åíáâÉå= oçãK= báåÉ= òïÉáëéê~ÅÜáÖÉ= qÉñíJ ë~ããäìåÖK=OMMQK= = _~åÇ= NQT= m~çäç= máÉêçåáW= j~êÅìë= sÉêêáìë= cä~ÅÅìëÛ= De significatu verborum= áå= ÇÉå= ^ìëòΩÖÉå= îçå= pÉñíìë=mçãéÉáìë=cÉëíìë=ìåÇ=m~ìäìë=aá~ÅçåìëK=báåäÉáíìåÖ=ìåÇ=qÉáäâçããÉåí~ê=ENRQI=NVÓ NUSI=OV=iáåÇë~óFK=OMMQK= =

    _~åÇ= NQU= j~êÅìë=s~äÉêáìë=j~êíá~äáëW=béáÖê~ãã~íçå=äáÄÉê=ÇÉÅáãìëK=a~ë=òÉÜåíÉ=béáÖê~ããÄìÅÜK=qÉñíI= §ÄÉêëÉíòìåÖI= fåíÉêéêÉí~íáçåÉåK= jáí= ÉáåÉê= báåäÉáíìåÖI= j~êíá~äJ_áÄäáçÖê~éÜáÉ= ìåÇ= ÉáåÉã= êÉJ òÉéíáçåëÖÉëÅÜáÅÜíäáÅÜÉå= ^åÜ~åÖ= ÜÉê~ìëÖÉÖÉÄÉå= îçå= dêÉÖçê= a~ãëÅÜÉå= ìåÇ= ^åÇêÉ~ë= eÉáäK=OMMQK= = _~åÇ= NQV= jáÅÜ~Éä=îçå=^äÄêÉÅÜí=L=t~äíÉê=há≈Éä=L=tÉêåÉê=pÅÜìÄÉêí=EeêëÖKFW=_áÄäáçÖê~éÜáÉ=òìã=cçêíïáêJ âÉå=ÇÉê=^åíáâÉ=áå=ÇÉå=ÇÉìíëÅÜëéê~ÅÜáÖÉå=iáíÉê~íìêÉå=ÇÉë=NVK=ìåÇ=OMK=g~ÜêÜìåÇÉêíëK=OMMRK= = _~åÇ= NRM= p~ÄáåÉ= iΩíâÉãÉóÉêW= lîáÇë= bñáäÇáÅÜíìåÖ= áã= pé~ååìåÖëÑÉäÇ= îçå= bâäçÖÉ= ìåÇ= bäÉÖáÉK= báåÉ= éçÉíçäçÖáëÅÜÉ=aÉìíìåÖ=ÇÉê=Tristia=ìåÇ=Epistulae ex PontoK=OMMRK= = _~åÇ= NRN= ^êåÉ=cÉáÅâÉêíW=Euripidis RhesusK=báåäÉáíìåÖI=§ÄÉêëÉíòìåÖI=hçããÉåí~êK=OMMRK= = _~åÇ= NRO= o~óãçåÇ=j~êâëW=cêçã=oÉéìÄäáÅ=íç= bãéáêÉK= pÅáéáç=^ÑêáÅ~åìë=áå=íÜÉ= Punica= çÑ=páäáìë=fí~äáJ ÅìëK=OMMRK= = _~åÇ= NRP= nìÉëáíáI=íÉãáI=íÉëíá=Çá=éçÉëá~=í~êÇçä~íáå~K=`ä~ìÇá~åçI=mêìÇÉåòáçI=fä~êáç=ÇÉ=mçáíáÉêëI=páÇçåáç= ^éçääáå~êÉI=aê~ÅçåòáçI=Aegritudo PerdicaeI=sÉå~åòáç=cçêíìå~íçI=corpus=ÇÉá=Ritmi LatiniK=^= Åìê~=Çá=iìáÖá=`~ëí~Öå~K=`çå=ä~=Åçää~Äçê~òáçåÉ=Çá=`Üá~ê~=oáÄçäÇáK=OMMSK= = _~åÇ= NRQ= a~êá~= p~åíáåáW= Wohin verschlug uns der Traum?= aáÉ= ÖêáÉÅÜáëÅÜÉ= ^åíáâÉ= áå= ÇÉê= ÇÉìíëÅÜJ ëéê~ÅÜáÖÉå=iáíÉê~íìê=ÇÉë=aêáííÉå=oÉáÅÜë=ìåÇ=ÇÉë=bñáäëK=OMMTK= = _~åÇ= NRR= ^åå~= bäáëë~= o~ÇâÉW= cê~åÅáëÅìë= aáçåóëáìë= håá~òåáå= Carmina selecta. bÇáíáçå= ãáí= ÉáåÉã= hçããÉåí~êK=báå=_äáÅâ=áå=ÇáÉ=aáÅÜíÉêïÉêâëí~íí=ÉáåÉë=éçäåáëÅÜÉå=kÉìä~íÉáåÉêëK=OMMTK= = _~åÇ= NRS= `~êëíÉå=eÉáåòW=jÉÜêÑ~ÅÜÉ=fåíÉêíÉñíì~äáí®í=ÄÉá=mêìÇÉåíáìëK=OMMTK= = _~åÇ= NRT= ^åÇêÉ~= pÅÜÉáíÜ~ìÉêW= sÉêÑÉáåÉêíÉ= iÉÄÉåëïÉáëÉ= ìåÇ= ÖÉëíÉáÖÉêíÉë= iÉÄÉåëÖÉÑΩÜä= áã= ~ìJ ÖìëíÉáëÅÜÉå=oçãK=Urbanitas=ãáí=ÇÉå=^ìÖÉå=lîáÇë=ÖÉëÉÜÉåK=OMMTK= = _~åÇ= NRU= _~êÄ~ê~= ^åÅÉëÅÜáW=aáÉ=d∏ííÉêå~ãÉå=áå=mä~íçåë= KratylosK=báå= sÉêÖäÉáÅÜ=ãáí= ÇÉã= m~éóêìë= îçå=aÉêîÉåáK=OMMTK= = _~åÇ= NRV= eÉäãìí=pÅÜåÉáÇÉêW=lîáÇë=cçêíäÉÄÉå=ÄÉá=mìëÅÜâáåK=OMMUK= = _~åÇ= NSM= qÜçã~ë=`çäÉW=lîáÇáìë=jóíÜáëíçêáÅìëK=iÉÖÉåÇ~êó=qáãÉ=áå=íÜÉ=jÉí~ãçêéÜçëÉëK=OMMUK== = _~åÇ= NSN= j~êáçå=`ä~ìëÉåW=Maxima in sensibus veritas?=Ó=aáÉ=éä~íçåáëÅÜÉå=ìåÇ=ëíçáëÅÜÉå=dêìåÇä~J ÖÉå=ÇÉê=bêâÉååíåáëâêáíáâ=áå=`áÅÉêçë=LucullusK=OMMUK= = _~åÇ= NSO= gìÇáíÜ=eáåÇÉêã~ååW=aÉê=ÉäÉÖáëÅÜÉ=bëÉäK=^éìäÉáìëÛ=Metamorphosen=ìåÇ=lîáÇë=Ars amatoriaK=OMMVK= = _~åÇ= NSP= ^åå~=ióÇá~=jçííçW=^ÇÇáíáçå~ä=bëë~óë=çå=pÉåÉÅ~K=OMMVK= = _~åÇ= NSQ= cäçêá~å= pÅÜ~ÑÑÉåê~íÜ= EeêëÖKFW= páäáìë= fí~äáÅìëK= ^âíÉå= ÇÉê= fååëÄêìÅâÉê= q~ÖìåÖ= îçã= NVKJONK= gìåá=OMMUK=OMNMK= = _~åÇ= NSR= ^äÇç=pÉí~áçäáW=Arbitri NugaeK=mÉíêçåáìë…=pÜçêí=mçÉãë=áå=íÜÉ=SatyricaK=OMNNK= = ïïïKéÉíÉêä~åÖKÇÉ= = = = = = = = = = = _ÉëíÉääìåÖÉåW=sÉêä~Ö=mÉíÉê=i~åÖ=^dI=jççëëíêK=NI=`eJORQO=máÉíÉêäÉåI=pïáíòÉêä~åÇ= =