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Classical scholars interested in Aeolic influence upon Horatian poetry tend to read Odes 1.22 in one of two ways: either in relation to Sappho (Ancona 2002, Putnam 2006, Young 2015) or in relation to Alcaeus (Burzacchini 1976, 1985, 1994). However, Horace’s poetic practice protests against such segregation. Indeed, when he refers explicitly to one of the Lesbian poets, he more often than not refers to the other as well (Odes 2.13, 4.9; Epistles 1.19).

Jean Racine opens both the first and second prefaces to his play Andromaque (1668) by quoting lines 3.301-332 of the Aeneid, where Aeneas happens upon Andromache at Buthrotum. Racine then writes: “here, in just a few verses, is the whole subject of this tragedy. Here is the location, the action which occurs therein, the four principal characters, and even their personalities….” (Racine, 36).

Before all our modern efforts to explain how friendship and politics fit into elegiac “love” poetry, the author of Catalepton 4 of the Appendix Vergiliana had already suggested that elegy’s talk of love is an excuse to explore the lover-poet’s relationships with other men. Catalepton 4, an elegaic poem addressed to Virgil’s friend, Octavius Musa, implies that amici in elegy are the underlying inspiration for elegiac poetry, rather than simply fellow lovers (cf. Gallus in Prop. 1.5, 1.10) or people pursuing goals opposed to the life of love (cf.

In 2014 a new fragmentary epigram from the late sixth century BCE from Thebes was published that appears to record the retrieval of a shield dedicated by Croesus, the king of Lydia, an incident that is also mentioned in Herodotus 1.52 (Papazarkadas). A recent article argues, the offering was made by an Athenian Croesus, thought to be an Alcmaeonid, rather than the Lydian (Thonemann 2016).

This paper focuses on the relationship of the two main images used by Lucretius in order to describe his audience. On the one hand, the readers of De rerum natura are presented as sick children in the need of treatment. As patients, they are forced to put themselves entirely in the power of their teachers, completely giving up their autonomy. On the other hand, the readers are compared to a well-trained hunting dog, following up by themselves the vestigia certa of a particular argument (DRN 1, 406-407).

The aim of my research is to give a new interpretation of the Exagoge of Ezekiel, the only surviving Hellenistic tragedy apart from the Alexandra of Lycophron.

This paper offers a new approach to a small yet salient detail of Homeric intertext in Pindar’s victory odes: Pindar’s remarkable treatment of Homeric simile.

Jocasta: ‘To try to end their strife I persuaded Polynices to come to Eteocles under a truce before taking up the spear. The messenger I sent says that he will come.’ (E. Pho. 81-83; transl. Kovacs 2002)

In Lycophron’s Alexandra, we possess an extended representation of a female voice, that of the prophetess Cassandra. Her prophecies concerning the aftermath of the Trojan War present a radical reinterpretation of the Greek literary and historical tradition, one that reflects both her Trojan and female perspective (McNelis and Sens 2016). Her truth thus lies at the heart of the work, even though her words are filtered by two male voices: the author Lycophron and the messenger who reports her words (Lowe 2004; Kossaifi 2009).

This paper discusses a critical distinction between Homer and Pindar in the way that each represents the rearing of child heroes. Though each poet presents a conception that is more idealized and imaginary than realistic, together they provide useful examples of two distinct ways that the Greeks of the archaic and early classical period were thinking about the nature of children, child-rearing and childhood that certainly influenced later representations and possibly also social practices.