The framework of this paper is a defence of Burnet's construal of Apology 30b 2-4. Socrates does not claim, as he is standardly translated, that virtue makes you rich, but that virtue makes money and everything else good for you. This view of the relation between virtue and wealth is paralleled in dialogues of every period, and a sophisticated development of it appears in Aristotle. My philological defence of the philosophically preferable translation extends recent scholarly work on εἶναι in Plato and Aristotle to γίγνεσθαι, which is the main verb in the disputed sentence. When attached to a subject, both verbs make a complete statement on their own, but a statement that is further completable by adding a complement. The important point is that the addition of a complement does not change the meaning of the verb from existence to the copula. Proving this is a lengthy task which takes me into some of the deeper reaches of Platonic and Aristotelian ontology, and into discussion of whether Greek ever acquired a verb that corresponds to modern verbs of existence. I conclude that even when later authors such as Philo Judaeus, Sextus Empiricus and Plotinus debate what we naturally translate as issues of existence, none of the verbs they use (εἶναι, ὑπάρχειν, ὑφεστηκέναι) can be said to have existential meaning.

The author discusses an inscription of the late fourth or early third century BC carved on a bronze plaque found in the first excavations at Dodona, on which a Zakynthian, by name Agathon, records a link of proxeny between himself and his family and the Epirote koinon of the Molossians, through Kassandra, the Trojan prophetess. The plaque is decorated by a prominent phallus with testicles, which the author interprets as referring to the continuity, past and future, of the γενεά of Agathon. Other explanations of the whole piece have been proposed, and the present essay is intended only to explore the possibility of this interpretation.

Type-scenes have been studied and analysed for over seventy years. This paper presents a more detailed analysis of one type-scene, the ‘recognition scene’, than has previously been attempted, with the aim of moving towards a better-structured understanding of the ‘syntax’ of type-scenes generally. The structure of the recognition scene is dissected into motifs and ‘moves’, all of which are tabulated; this is the core of the analysis. The ensuing points of clarification elaborate on the definitions and assumptions built into the analysis. Following this is an assessment of the ‘syntax’ and quantifiable elements of the recognition scene. The discussion closes with a general assessment of the more literary face of recognition scenes, discussing them in the context of the plan of the second half of the Odyssey.

This article investigates concepts of masculinity in the Homeric poems by focusing on two words: ὴνοαέη and ἀγηνορίη. We argue that whereas ήνορέη is a positive quality best understood as ‘manliness’, άγηνορίη denotes ‘excessive manliness’ in a pejorative sense. By comparing the use of these two terms we claim that it is possible to explore what constitutes proper, as opposed to excessive, masculinity in the Homeric poems.

Our analysis of ἠνορέη and άγηνορίη suggests that some current views of Homeric masculinity need to be reconsidered. Whereas much recent scholarship has emphasized the individualism of ‘the Homeric hero’, we suggest that individualistic behaviour on the part of men is presented as a serious problem in the Homeric poems. As well as the use of the terms ἠνορέη and άγηνορίη, the frequent injunctions to ‘be men’ found in the poems confirm that solidarity with other men is an important aspect of Homeric masculinity.

Our analysis also shows that the language of masculinity is employed very differently in the Iliad and the Odyssey. In the Iliad, excessive manliness is typically displayed by an individual who fails to show solidarity with other men on the battlefield. In the Odyssey, the suitors are standardly designated as ‘excessively manly’ for coveting another man's wife. In both poems, normative definitions of masculinity seek to regulate proper relationships among men.

Iphigenia Aulidensis was produced after the poet's death, probably in 405 BC. The aim of this paper is to recover the text of this production, which I call FP for First Performance. Probably Euripides left behind an incomplete draft, which was finished by Euripides Minor, the poet's son or nephew. The text we have contains, as Page showed in 1934, material added for a fourth-century revival and other still later interpolations. Diggle's edition tries to separate original Euripides from all later hands on the basis of style. But if we want to recover the amalgam that was FP we need to be attentive to the plot that is implied by the most clearly genuine portions: we can't confine ourselves to what appears to be Euripidean since more than one hand contributed to FP.

A discovery about the plot gives us some objective basis for reconstructing FP. Our transmitted text contains two different conceptions of Calchas' prophecy, only one of which belonged to FP. Several passages scattered throughout the play imply that it was public, made to the entire army, but other passages say that it was private, restricted to Agamemnon's inner circle, with the army left in the dark. The secret prophecy motif, I argue, is the work of a fourth-century producer, whom I call the Reviser. Its purpose was to introduce into the play scenes where Greek soldiers, ignorant of the real reason for Iphigenia's coming to Aulis, might make naive comments or ask questions that are highly ironic in view of the actual situation, this being an emotional effect he found congenial. We find two such passages in places that are under grave suspicion: the entrance of Clytaemestra, where there is a chorus of Argives who felicitate Iphigenia on her wonderful prospects, and the first messenger, who reports naive questions from the soldiery. Both these passages have linguistic and dramaturgical features that make it virtually certain that neither Euripides nor Euripides Minor wrote them. Working from these we can detect the Reviser's hand at other places in the play and reconstruct its original lineaments. One satisfying result is that the business of baby Orestes, played by a doll, can be shown to be the work of the Reviser. The play ended with Iphigenia's departure for the altar, and there was no substitution of a stag. Like Menoeceus, Macaria and their kin, Iphigenia pays for the victory of her country with her blood, and there is no happy ending.

A fashionable approach to the interpretation of Athenian drama concentrates on its context in performance at Athenian festivals, and sees both the festivals and the plays as products of the Athenian democracy. In this paper it is argued that, whereas the institutional setting inevitably took a particular form in democratic Athens, that was an Athenian version of institutions found more generally in the Greek world, and even in the Athenian version many features do not seem distinctively democratic. Similarly in the interpretation of particular plays themes have often been said to be democratic which are better seen as concerns of polis-dwelling Greeks in general, and the notion that plays questioned Athens' democratic values because the democratic ethos of Athens consciously encouraged the questioning of Athens' democratic values is far from certain.

For much of the first millennium BC, the number of Greeks increased considerably, both in the Aegean core and in the expanding periphery of the Mediterranean and Black Sea regions. This paper is the first attempt to establish a coherent quantitative framework for the study of this process. In the first section, I argue that despite the lack of statistical data, it is possible to identify a plausible range of estimates of average long-term demographic growth rates in mainland Greece from the Early Iron Age to the Classical period. Elaborating on this finding, the second section offers a comprehensive rebuttal of the notion of explosive population growth in parts of the eighth and seventh centuries BC. In the third section, I seek to determine the probable scale and demographic consequences of Greek settlement overseas. A brief preliminary look at the relationship between population growth and the quality of life concludes my survey. The resultant series of interlocking parametric models is meant to contextualize the demographic development of ancient Greece within the wider ambit of pre-modern demography, and to provide a conceptual template for future research in this area.

The idea of the ‘unity of opposites’ allows one to see important connections between phenomena normally treated separately: verbal style, ritual, tragic action and cosmology. The stylistic figure of Satzparallelismus in lamentation and mystic ritual expresses the unity of opposites (particularly of life and death) as oxymora. Both rituals were factors in the genesis of tragedy, and continued to influence the style and action of mature tragedy. The author advances new readings of various passages of the Oresteia, which is seen to advocate the replacement of a Herakleitean model of the unity of opposites with a Pythagorean model of their reconciliation.

Re-examination of the well-known Atarbos base in the Akropolis Museum shows that the monument had two distinct phases which have generally been ignored in previous discussions: it originally consisted of a pillar supported by the extant right block decorated with the relief of purrhikhistai; subsequently, the pillar was removed, the base was doubled in size, and three bronze statues were erected. Close examination of the remains and the style of the reliefs indicates that the original period dates to 323/2 BC with the second phase following within a year. In light of this chronology, the prosopography of the family is reviewed and new restorations are suggested for the base's inscriptions. In its first phase, the monument belonged to a newly identified series of memorials consisting of rectangular bases with pillars supporting either a relief or a Panathenaic amphora. Such structures commemorated victories in various tribal events of the Panathenaia and were set up both by individuals and by tribes. The earliest known example appears in a vase painting of c. 430-420 and the type continued to be used until at least 323/2. The identification of this series also provides further evidence for history of the purrhikhē, the cyclic chorus, the anthippasia, and the apobatic race at the Panathenaia, as well as the identities of specific victors in these contests.

Dionysius Chalcus fr. 3 West contains an elaborate metaphor for the cottabus game in which the dining room and the symposiasts are compared to a gymnasium in which young pugilists are training. The author suggests that the visual force of the central part of the metaphor lies in the actual way in which σφαῖραι (used as a kind of boxing gloves) were wrapped around the hand and forearm. In the problematic v. 4, ἐκεῖνον is identified as the symposiarch, and the verse is seen to function as another part of this complex metaphor of the symposium as agōn.

It is argued that Athenagoras, Leg. 17, draws on Pausanias 1.26.4, and may join Aelian, Pollux, Philostratus and Longus in the list of possible readers of the periegete.