1. Textual-Criticism and Editorial Technique Martin L West'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

MARTIN L. WEST

TEXTUAL CRITICISM

AND EDITORIAL TECHNIQUE

B. G. TEUBNER STUTTGART

Textual Criticism

and Editorial Technique

applicable to Greek and Latin texts

By Martin L. West

1973

B. G. Teubner Stuttgart

Dr. Martin L. West

Born in London 1937. Educated at St Paul's School and Balliol.

Since 1963 Fellow of University College, Oxford. Editor of

Greek poetic texts, also author of a book on early Greek

philosophy and many articles on classical literature.

ISBN 3-519-07401-X (paperback)

ISBN 3-519-07402-8 (clothbound)

All rights reserved. This publication, or parts thereof, may not

be produced in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording or otherwise, or transmitted without

written permission of the publisher.

© B. G. Teubner, Stuttgart 1973

Printed in Germany by Dr. Alexander Krebs, Hemsbach/Bergstr.

Cover design: W. Koch, Stuttgart

CONTENTS

Bibliographical Note, 5

PART I. TEXTUAL CRITICISM

1. Habent sua fata libelli, 7

Types of source, 9. The nature of manuscript transmission, 12. Various causes of textual discrepancy, 15

2. Organizing the data, 29

Dealing with a closed recension, 31. Dealing with an open recension, 37

3. Diagnosis, 47

The evaluation of variants, 48. Emendation, 53

PART II. EDITING A TEXT

1. Preparation, 61

Collecting the material, 62. Digestion, 68. The use of computers, 70

2. Presentation, 72

Prefatory material, 72. Choice of sigla, 74. The body of the edition: general layout, 75. Text, 77. Between the text and the apparatus, 82. The critical apparatus, 86. Some special types of edition. Papyri, inscriptions, 94. Fragment collections, 95. Scholia, 97. Indexes, 98. Printing, 101. Conclusion, 102

3

Part III. Specimen Passages

1. Hesiod, Theogony 176–200, 105

2. ‘Hippocrates’, De morbo sacro 1, 29–44, 119

3. Aesop. fab. 157 Perry; Xenophon, Memorabilia 1, 3, 8–9, 128

4. Catullus 61, 189–228, 132

5. Ovid, Amores 3, 15, 141

6. Apuleius (?), De Platone 2, 20, 145

Index, 153

4

Bibliographical Note

This book was written at the invitation of the publishers, who

wanted a replacement for Paul Maas’s Textkritik (3rd ed., 1957)

and O. Stählin’s Editionstechnik (2nd ed., 1914). Stählin’s work,

the only detailed treatment of editorial method, was excellent in

its day, but many of its recommendations have been left behind

by fashion. Maas’s work will not date in the same way, for the

canons of textual criticism have long been established, and fashion

can only bring aberrations or alternative formulations; but it is

too one-sided to be satisfactory as a general introduction. It

emphasizes the stemmatic aspect of textual analysis, and treats

contamination as a regrettable deviation about which nothing

can be done, instead of as a normal state of affairs. I have tried

in Part I of the present manual to redress the balance, and given

some practical advice on dealing with contaminated traditions,

which I think is new. Otherwise there is little here that cannot

be found in other works on textual criticism, of which there are

plenty.

I could draw up a formidable list of such works if I thought the

student ought to read them. But textual criticism is not something

to be learned by reading as much as possible about it. Once the

basic principles have been apprehended, what is needed is obser-

vation and practice, not research into the further ramifications of

theory. I therefore offer no formal bibliography, but content

myself with the mention of three books that will be referred to

several times in what follows.

L. Havet, Manuel de critique verbale appliquée aux textes latins

(Paris 1911).

G. Pasquali, Storia della tradizione e critica del testo (2nd ed.,

Firenze 1952).

H. Fränkel, Einleitung zur kritischen Ausgabe der Argonautika

des Apollonios (Abh. d. Akad. d. Wiss. in Göttingen, Phil.-

hist. Kl., Folge 3, Nr. 55, 1964).

Any of these may be read with considerable profit, especially

Pasquali’s wise opus.

6

Part I Textual Criticism

1. Habent sua fata libelli

Eduard Fraenkel in his introduction to Leo’s Ausgewählte kleine Schriften recounts the following traumatic experience which he had as a young student:

“I had by then read the greater part of Aristophanes, and I began to rave about it to Leo, and to wax eloquent on the magic of this poetry, the beauty of the choral odes, and so on and so forth. Leo let me have my say, perhaps ten minutes in all, without showing any sign of disapproval or impatience. When I was finished, he asked: “In which edition do you read Aristophanes?” I thought: has he not been listening? What has his question got to do with what I have been telling him? After a moment’s ruffled hesitation I answered: “The Teubner”. Leo: “Oh, you read Aristophanes without a critical apparatus.” He said it quite calmly, without any sharpness, without a whiff of sarcasm, just sincerely taken aback that it was possible for a tolerably intelligent young man to do such a thing. I looked at the lawn nearby and had a single, overwhelming sensation: νῦν μοι χάνοι εἰρεῖα χθών. Later it seemed to me that in that moment I had understood the meaning of real scholarship.”

Textual criticism is not the be-all and end-all of classical scholarship, which is the study of a civilization. But it is an indispensable part of it. By far the greater part of our knowledge of that civilization comes to us from what the ancients wrote. In almost all cases those writings have survived, if they have

survived at all, only in copies many stages removed from the originals, copies of which not a single one is free from error. Often the errors are so great that it is no longer possible to tell what the author meant to say. It follows that anyone who wants to make serious use of ancient texts must pay attention to the uncertainties of the transmission; even the beauty of the choral odes that he admires so much may turn out to have an admixture of editorial guesswork in it, and if he is not interested in the authenticity and dependability of details, he may be a true lover of beauty, but he is no serious student of antiquity. The dangers are obviously more far-reaching if the text is being used as a source for historical events, ancient life and manners, Greek or Latin linguistic usage, or whatever it may be.

But the practice of textual criticism is more than a prophylactic against deception. It brings benefits which go beyond its immediate aims of ascertaining as exactly as possible what the authors wrote and defining the areas of uncertainty. When scholars argue about whether Aristophanes wrote δὲ or τὲ in such-and-such a passage, the debate may seem trivial to the point of absurdity, and indeed the sense may not be affected in the least. But by asking the question “which in fact did the poet write?”, scholars may be led to inquire into the usage of the particles and the habits of Aristophanes more closely than it would ever have occurred to them to do otherwise. In the same way, by asking such questions all the way through the text, they learn all kinds of things that they did not know and never wondered about, sometimes things that were not known to anybody. So our understanding of the languages, metres, and styles of the Greeks and Romans has been continually refined by the observations of clever critics. That in turn helps us to form correct judgments about passages where the sense is affected. This is to say nothing of the interest and value that the study of such matters as the proclivities of scribes, and the processes governing the spread of texts at different periods, has in its own right.

Students have sometimes said to me that they recognize the neces-

8

sity of textual criticism, but they are content to leave it to the editor

of the text they are reading and to trust in his superior knowledge.

Unfortunately editors are not always people who can be trusted,

and critical apparatuses are provided so that readers are not

dependent upon them. Though the reader lacks the editor's long

acquaintance with the text and its problems, he may nevertheless

surpass him in his feeling for the language or in ordinary common

sense, and he should be prepared to consider the facts presented

in the apparatus and exercise his own judgment on them. He must

do so in places where the text is important to him for some further

purpose. This book, therefore, is not intended solely for editors,

but for anyone who reads Greek and Latin and desires some

guidance on how to approach textual questions. Textual criticism

cannot be reduced to a set of rules: each new problem calls for

new thought. But there are general principles which are useful

and not always self-evident, and these I shall try to explain.

Types of source

Most classical authors come to us in parchment or paper manu-

scripts which are seldom earlier than the ninth century and often

as late as the sixteenth. Some authors and works are preserved in

only one manuscript, in other cases the number may run into

hundreds. There are also a few cases in which early printed

editions serve as the only source, the manuscript(s) from which

they were made having since been lost. Sometimes different works

by the same author, or even different parts of the same work, are

contained in different manuscripts. Most classical manuscripts are

now in European libraries or museum collections, but some are

in monasteries (particularly in Greece) or private ownership, and

some are in such places as Istanbul or Jerusalem, or in American

libraries. Among the larger collections may be mentioned those

of the Vatican library, the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana in

Florence, the Ambrosiana in Milan, the Marciana in Venice,

9

the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek in Vienna, the Bibliothèque

Nationale in Paris, and the British Museum in London.

For many Greek authors (and a few Latin) we possess also, or

only, remnants of ancient copies on papyrus or parchment, often

very small remnants but occasionally substantial. These continue

to be published year by year. They are very rarely older than

300 B. C. and never older than about 350. The largest number

date from the second and third centuries A. D., but they continue

into the sixth and seventh.

Apart from straightforward copies of complete works there

may exist excerpts in anthologies, epitomes, paraphrases, or

translations, e.g. of Greek works into Latin or Arabic. In some

cases these are the only sources extant, and even when they are

not, they may be of use as evidence for the text from which they

were made - which is not, of course, necessarily the true text, but

may well be an older text than that of surviving manuscripts.

Ancient or medieval commentaries and scholia hold out the same

promise. Their evidence about the text is of three kinds. First,

there are the actual quotations from the text, known as lemmata,

which serve as headings to sections of the commentary. Second,

there may be explicit statements of variant readings. Third, there

is the interpretation offered, which may presuppose a particular

version of the text. Unfortunately scholia are not usually docu-

ments with a definite date. They are added to as well as shortened

or altered in the course of time, and are liable to contain a mixture

of material of very different dates. At best they can inform us of

Alexandrian scholars' readings, at worst they testify only to the

obtuseness or perverse ingenuity of some medieval reader. It is

also worth noting that as they are usually transmitted together

with the text, the lemmata are liable to be adjusted to fit the

accompanying text, which may cause a discrepancy between

lemma and interpretation.

The evidence of ancient quotations, more surprisingly, is also

affected by this interaction with the direct manuscript tradition

of the author quoted. It might be thought that when one ancient

10

author quoted a passage from another, that passage would from

then on be preserved in a manuscript tradition quite independent

of the main one, so that agreement with the main one or with part

of it would take us back to the time of the quoting author. But

in practice it often happens that both traditions, that of the quoted

author and that of the quoting, show similar sets of variants. In

some cases these are such as could have arisen independently in

the two traditions, in others it is necessary to assume interaction1).

A well-known instance is the quotation of Virgil, Ecl. 4,62, by

Quintilian 9,3,8. Virgil must have written qui non risere parenti, nec

deus hunc mensa, dea nec dignata cubili est, and Quintilian's comment

on the change from plural to singular proves that he quoted it in

that form. But his manuscripts, like those of Virgil, give cui non

risere parentes, which must be an importation by a copyist familiar

with the already corrupted Virgil. A more dramatic example of

the possibilities of cross-contamination occurs in the Byzantine

historian Nicetas Choniata (p. 772 Bekker), who quotes some

lines of Solon that had earlier been quoted by Plutarch and in a

rather different form by Diogenes Laertius. One of the manuscripts

follows Plutarch's version, the other Diogenes'. Nicetas must have

taken the quotation from one of the two authors, but a copyist

who knew the other has seen fit to write it in - first no doubt as

a marginal variant, but subsequently put into the text. More will

have to be said presently on the limitations of quotations as evi-

dence for the text.

Imitations and parodies are occasionally of use, especially in

the case of verse texts. For example, in Iliad 1,4–5, where the main

tradition gives αὐτοὺς δὲ ἔλωρια τεῦγε κύνεσιν οἰωνοῖσί τε πᾶσι,

Athenaeus records that the pioneer of Alexandrian scholarship,

Zenodotus, read the more forceful δαῖτα instead of πᾶσι: it has

been observed that this is supported by the echo in Aeschylus,

Suppl. 800 f. χυσὶν δ' ἔπειθ' ἔλωρα κάπιχωρίοις | ὄρνιςι δει̃πνον. (But

1. See E. R. Dodds, Plato: Gorgias, p. 64; W. S. Barrett, Euripides: Hippolytos,

pp. 429 f.; my Hesiod: Theogony, p. 69 n. 1.

the imitation could not have been used to infer a reading δαĩζα if

its existence had not been recorded.) The text of an imitation, of

course, may in its turn have light thrown upon it by comparison

of the model. Thus in the case of Catullus 4 and the early parody

in Catalepton 10 of the Appendix Vergiliana, each poem is partly

restored from a corrupt manuscript tradition with the help of the

other.

The nature of manuscript transmission

Whenever a manuscript is copied, some mistakes will almost

certainly be made. But manuscript transmission is not simply a

mechanical process of cumulative error. The scribe may notice

errors in the exemplar before him and be able to correct them,

even without recourse to another copy; so it is quite possible

for his copy, the apograph, to be on balance more accurate than

the exemplar. On the other hand, the number of errors corrected

must always be less than the number made, and the overall trend

will necessarily be towards a less correct text. Besides, some of

the scribe’s ‘corrections’ may themselves be mistaken, and this

kind of corruption is often more insidious than inadvertent

miscopying, being less easily detected afterwards.

The fact that errors occur in copying, and that the comparison

of different manuscripts brings variant readings to light, is no

modern discovery. It was well known in antiquity, as well as in

the Middle Ages, and the precaution was sometimes taken of

checking a newly-made copy not only against its immediate exem-

plar but against another manuscript. When a variant was noticed,

it might be introduced into the new copy by correction, or it might

be noted in the margin or between the lines, preceded by some

such expression as ἐν ἄλλω (χeiται), ἐν ἄλλois, ἦ, γρ. (= γραφεται),

al. ( = alibi or aliter), vel. When a copy furnished with this kind

of primitive critical apparatus served in its turn as an exemplar to

another scribe, he might do any of four things. He might preserve

both the variant in the text (t) and the marginal variant (v) in their

12

places; he might retain t and omit v; he might adopt v in place

of t, without mention of t; or he might put v in the text and t in

the margin.

This confluence of readings from more than one exemplar is

known as contamination. When it is not present, the relationship

of copies to exemplars can be represented by diverging lines. For

example the diagram

expresses the fact that B and C were copied from A, and D and E

from B. But if the scribe of E mingled readings from B and C,

this calls for converging lines:

It is to be noted, however, that the line BE now represents a

different relationship from the line BD, namely a selection from

the readings that characterize B, instead of a more or less complete

reproduction of them.

If we were in a position to see the whole tradition of any ancient

author, that is to say if we had knowledge of every copy ever

made, and knew in each case which other copies the scribe used,

and if we had the patience and ingenuity (and a large enough sheet

of paper) to set out their relationships in the way just illustrated,

we could expect to see a complex system of lines ramifying from

the point representing the author's original. Most of the lines

would be diverging, and there might be considerable areas of the

diagram where they were all diverging, corresponding to periods

13

at which cross-checking was not customary, whether from scarcity

of copies or lack of awareness of the advantages. In other areas,

there would be much convergence. There would also be many lines

that came to a stop, corresponding to all the manuscripts from

which no copies were made. These would become increasingly

frequent as we approached the end of antiquity. In the case of

some authors the transmission would here peter out altogether;

for others it would be reduced to a single line, others again would

be a little luckier. Then, from the late eighth or ninth century

onward, the stream would begin to broaden out once more,

though it would never recover its former dimensions, and might

again run dry or be reduced to a trickle before the final salvation

of the Renaissance.

That is the sort of picture that must be held in mind. But of

all the manuscripts that existed, only a small fraction have sur-

vived, and often they all belong to the same small corner of the

whole diagram that we have imagined. If they happen to come

from an area where the lines are all diverging, we shall have what

is called a closed recension, that is, it will be possible to con-

struct a self-contained diagram (known as a stemma) which

represents the historical relationship of the manuscripts accurately

enough for useful conclusions to be drawn about the antiquity of

individual readings. The principles on which this is done are ex-

plained in the next chapter. If the extant manuscripts do not come

from such a straightforward area of the tradition, they may still

appear to, if not enough of them are extant to reveal the com-

plexity of their true relationships; or it may be apparent that no

stemma can do justice to the situation, and we shall realize that

we are faced with an open recension2).

2. The term and its opposite were invented by Pasquali, who also speaks of

'horizontal' as opposed to 'vertical' transmission when cross-contamination is

involved. Note that if only two manuscripts are preserved from a contaminated

area of the tradition, there will be nothing to show that it is contaminated: what-

ever errors they share can be attributed to a common exemplar. It needs a third

copy to show that things are more complicated.

But it is only if the number of extant manuscripts is rather small that the recension is likely to be completely open or completely closed. If there are twenty or so, it will probably turn out that some of them are related simply and without contamination and others not. If the older manuscripts can be fitted into a stemma, the promiscuity of the younger ones should be easy to establish and may be unimportant. If the relationship of the older manuscripts resists analysis, it may still be possible to identify sub-groups whose structure can be stemmatized.

Various causes of textual discrepancy

Miscopying is far from being the only cause of textual variation, and misreading is far from being the only cause of miscopying. I conclude this chapter with a survey - which in the nature of things cannot be exhaustive - of the variety of ways in which a text may suffer change.

The first way is that the author himself may change it, after copies have already gone into circulation. Aristophanes revised his Clouds after its production in 424/3, and both versions survived into Hellenistic times (we have the revision)3). The scholia to Apollonius Rhodius' Argonautica are able to quote from an 'earlier edition' (πρoέxδoσις) of the poem, which differed here and there from the current version4). We have it on Ovid's own authority that his Metamorphoses got into circulation before he had fully revised it (Tristia 1,7,13ff.), and our manuscripts of the poem offer alternative versions of certain passages5). The traditions of several other ancient works have been shown or alleged to betray the effects of issue at different stages of completion6).

3. See K. J. Dover's larger edition of the play, pp. lxxx-xcviii.

4. See H. Fränkel, Einleitung . . ., pp. 7–11.

5. See, most recently, the brief but judicious remarks of A. S. Hollis, Ovid: Metamorphoses Book VIII, pp. x–xi. xxvii. 102–4. 117–8. 123–4.

6. See Pasquali, Storia . . ., pp. 397–465; H. Emonds, Zweite Auflage im Altertum (Leipzig 1941); further bibliography in M. D. Reeve, Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society 15, 1969, 75 n. 1.

15

sometimes on the ground of doublets standing side by side in the text, sometimes on the ground of major divergences between different branches of the tradition, if both versions convince the connoisseur of their authenticity. In such a case it is not necessary to assume that the two branches of the tradition have come down quite independently of each other from the time of the author7).

There are others besides the author who may take it upon themselves to improve the composition. Greek tragedies suffered extensively from interpolations by actors (or at any rate for their use), probably more in the fourth century B.C. than at any later time8); the plays of Plautus may have undergone something of the sort on a smaller scale in the second century, but the evidence is less clear9). The embellishment of the Homeric poems by rhapsodes is a similar phenomenon. It seems to show itself in quotations by authors of the fourth century B.C., and in the earlier papyri, which are characterized by additional lines of an inorganic nature (often borrowed from other contexts) and some other divergences from the vulgate10).

Some kinds of text were always subject to alteration. Commentaries, lexica and other works of a grammatical nature were rightly regarded as collections of material to be pruned, adapted or added to, rather than as sacrosanct literary entities. When the rewriting becomes more than superficial, or when rearrangement is involved, one must speak of a new recension of the work, if not of a new work altogether. The various Byzantine Etymologica,

7. See W. Bühler, Philologus 109, 1965, 121-33, on Tertullian's Apologeticus.

8. See D. L. Page, Actors' Interpolations in Greek Tragedy (Oxford 1934).

9. See F. Leo, Plautinische Forschungen (19122; Darmstadt 1966), pp. 29 ff. The activity of later scribes may be involved, cf. C. C. Coulter, Retractatio in the Ambrosian and Palatine Recensions of Plautus (Bryn Mawr, Pa. 1911). At some date a second ending was composed for Terence's Andria; it does not appear in all manuscripts, and did not appear in all those known to Donatus in the fourth century.

10. See Stephanie West, The Ptolemaic Papyri of Homer (Köln & Opladen 1967).

16

the treatises πϵϱὶ σϰημάτων and πϵϱὶ τϱóπων, the proverb collections, or any body of ancient scholia, will serve as examples11). The divergences between the two primary manuscripts of Longus’ Daphnis and Chloe show that copyists of this type of work too felt themselves at liberty to change the wording as they went along. In this case one cannot properly speak of different recensions; but it is otherwise with the so-called Alexander Romance, which exists in six different versions dated between 300 and 700 A.D., to say nothing of medieval and modern adaptations12). The two Lives of Aesop belong in the same category, and the various collections of Aesopic fables. Again, at least parts of the Hippocratic corpus were subject to revision or rearrangement. Some of the idiosyncrasies of an Ambrosian manuscript of the Oath have now been proved ancient by P. Oxy. 2547; it does not follow that the medieval alternatives are not also ancient. Another text of a technical nature, Aratus’ Phaenomena, was rewritten in places

by Maximus Planudes (c. 1255–1305; see Bekker’s apparatus at lines 481–96, 502–6, 515–24); and as late as 1704 an editor of Dionysius Periegetes’ geographical poem thought it permissible, in the interests of students, to omit and transpose certain passages and to add new sections dealing with Muscovy, Tartary, America, etc.

Changes of a less drastic but nevertheless dangerous kind may arise when a passage is the subject of quotation. The main cause is inaccurate memory, as it was the practice of most ancient writers (apart from grammarians, who hunted for their examples in texts as a rule) to quote short passages as they remembered them instead of laboriously looking them up without the aid of numbered chap-

11. See R. Reitzenstein, Geschichte der griechischen Etymologika (Leipzig 1897); M. L. West, ‘Tryphon, De Tropis’, Classical Quarterly n. s. 15, 1965, 230ff.

12. See K. Mitsakis, Der byzantinische Alexanderroman nach dem Codex Vindob. Theol. gr. 244 (München 1967), pp. 5ff., and Ancient Macedonia (First International Symposium, Thessaloniki 1970), pp. 376ff. The related work of Palladius on the peoples of India and the Brahmans survives in two recensions; see the edition by W. Berghoff (Meisenheim am Glan 1967).

ters or verses. (These are not the only alternatives: very often a

quotation is remembered or copied from another author who has

used it, or from an anthology. Hence a whole series of quotations

can appear in two or three different writers, with the same distor-

tions in each.) It was easy to make mistakes, to substitute or trans-

pose words, or to conflate the passage with some other similar one.

Quotations particularly tend to trail off inaccurately at the end,

as the quoter's memory fails. Another thing to beware of is that

he may deliberately adapt the construction or some other aspect

of the quotation to suit his own purposes. One type of adaptation

characteristic of anthology excerpts (which can be treated as a

sort of quotation) consists in making the passage more self-

contained; for example τοι has been substituted for γάρ at the

beginning of at least two excerpts from Solon in the Theognidea

(153. 315), and a number of excerpts that cannot be checked from

fuller sources seem to have been altered at the end to fill out the

verse.

Christian zeal occasionally affected texts, as in the Vienna

manuscript of Ps.-Hippocrates περί δαιτήτης, where the names of

Greek gods have in places been effaced, and θeoí replaced by

θεός. There are cases of scribes bowdlerizing a text, that is, sup-

pressing obscenity, though it is surprisingly rare. Herodotus'

chapter on sacred prostitution, 1,199, is passed over by one

group of manuscripts; one copyist of Martial toned down the

vocabulary somewhat, substituting e.g. adulter for fututor and

turpes for cunnos in 1,90,6–7; and we know of ancient critics who,

shocked by Phoenix's admission that he seduced his father's

mistress at his mother's instigation, altered τῆ οὐ πιθóμην οὐδ' ἔρεξα (Il. 9,453).

Early Greek and early Latin texts underwent a natural process

of orthographical modernization in the course of time. The early

Ionians wrote the contraction of ε and o as εο, but the texts of

their works usually show the later spelling ευ; and many a quoi

and quom has given way to cui and cum. But there was also a con-

trary tendency, probably starting in late Hellenistic times, to try

18

to preserve or restore original dialect forms. The effect was to

introduce quantities of pseudo-Ionic forms into the traditions of

Herodotus and the Hippocratica, and pseudo-Doric into that of

the bucolic poets. Otherwise it is difficult to point to examples of

systematic change prompted by grammatical theory; but Planudes

and his disciples regularly replaced γίνομαι, γιγνώσκω in the texts

they copied by γίγνομαι, γιγνώσκω, and indulged one or two

other private preferences13). Mention may be made here of the

phenomenon that a certain manuscript or group of manuscripts

will sometimes consistently deviate in a fixed direction in a series

of places, not always for any apparent reason; for instance, one

late copy of Apollonius Rhodius, Casanatensis 408, substitutes

νύμφη for xoúρη in 3,886. 1025 and 1098.

It is a general truth that emendation by scholars and scribes is

much more evident to us in the Middle Ages and Renaissance

than in antiquity, and at the same time that it constitutes a more

serious problem. The conjectures of ancient critics are some-

times recorded in scholia and similar sources, but seldom appear

to have affected the textual tradition. The contribution of any

individual must usually have been as evanescent as a pee into the

river. It was different in the Middle Ages when copies were few

and corruption rife: emendation was at once more often called for

and more likely to colour the whole stream, or a conspicuous

branch of it. Scribes emended what they could not read or were

unable to understand, and sometimes what was or seemed un-

metrical. For instance, in the Homeric Hymn 10,4–5,

χαῖρε θεὰ Σαλμοῦνος εὐκτιμένης μεδέουσα

καὶ πάσης Κύπρου,

the words underlined were not legible in the damaged copy from

which the oldest manuscript M is derived, and μάχαιρα Κυθήρης..

εἰναλίης τε have been supplied instead, not altogether metrically.

In Lucretius 3,1,

13. See my commentary on Hes. Th. 190. 480. 491.

E tenebris tantis tam clarum extollere lumen,

the scribe of the copy from which all our manuscripts descend

left the initial E to be done more ornamentally in red, but, as

often in such cases, the rubricator never got round to the job.

Of the two extant ninth-century copies, one reproduces the omis-

sion, the other supplies O; some later copies supply A; another

again hits upon the correct E. In Juvenal 8,148,

ipse rotam adstringit sufflamine mulio consul,

we can see the corruption of mulio to multo leading to the metrical

'correction' multo sufflamine14). Scribes' understanding of metre,

however, is seldom more than rudimentary, and often less. An

outstanding exception is Demetrius Triclinius (c. 1280–1340), who

had read Hephaestion's metrical treatise, and broke quite fresh

ground by venturing metrical emendations in Pindar and the

choruses of Greek drama on the basis of the strophic responsion.

Admittedly he made many mistakes even in the simplest metres15).

We may now turn to the consideration of semi-conscious and

unconscious changes made by scribes in copying. It must be

emphasized that many of these are not visual but phonetic or

psychological in origin. When one is writing (whether one is

copying or not, but especially if one is), one tends to say the

words over to oneself. One may then find oneself writing down

a word that sounds the same as the one intended. Hence we find,

for example, εἰπεῖ as a variant for αἰπὺ in Mimnermus 9,1 (the

Byzantine pronunciation of the two words being identical), and

similarly ἔβρον for “Eβρον in Theocritus 7,112 (ἔβρον). (The con-

stant writing of e for ae in Latin texts, and v for b (less often the

converse), is not really the same thing; most cases belong under

14. Other examples from Latin poets are collected by A. E. Housman, M. Manilii

Astronomicon liber primus, pp. lix-lxix.

15. For a study of his emendations in Hesiod's Theogony see Class. Quart. n. s. 14,

1964, 181 f. (Add 94 ἐκ γὰρ Μουσάων for ἐκ γὰρ τoι Μουσάων.) For those of a slightly

earlier, Planudean manuscript see ibid. 176f.

20

the heading of modernized spelling. But the implications for the

textual critic are similar.) Spoonerisms are not infrequent, i.e.

confusions like βalóv for λαβóv, suscipit for suspicit. There is a

tendency to simplify consonant clusters, and to write e.g. ἐκλαξεν

for ἐξλαξεν, or astersi for abstersi.

The substitution of one word for another can be brought about by

mental associations of a non-phonetic nature; e.g. πúλαι and

θúραι are often variants. A word that plays little part in a monk's

life may be mistaken for one that plays a greater part, e.g. καθολιχńν

for χαθολιχńν. (Some examples from the tradition of Livy are

collected by R. M. Ogilvie, Greece & Rome n. s. 18, 1971, 32–34;

other Latin examples in Havet, Manuel…, pp. 263–264.) The

scribe may be reminded of a similar word or phrase that he has

copied earlier, it may be many pages earlier. Thus for χρυσoπé-

διλον in Hes. Th. 454 the writer of B gives χρυσoστέφανov, a

compound which has occured in 17 and 136. At Ovid Met. 12,103

inritamina cornu is corrupted to inritamenta malorum through remi-

niscence of 1,140. Memories of particularly well-known authors

like Homer and Virgil were liable to intrude even without recent

copying being involved. The ends of verses or sentences suffer

most from this kind of error, because they regularly coincide with

the end of the piece of text that the scribe carries in his head while

his pen is in motion.

Because he carries a block of text in his head, at least a whole

phrase or half a line, he may unwittingly alter the order of the

words. One special type of transposition that occurs in Greek tragic

texts is the so-called vitium Byzantinum, by which a paroxytone

word is moved to the end of the iambic trimeter to make it sound

more like a Byzantine dodecasyllable. Parallel to this is a type

found for example in one family of Plutarch manuscripts, by which

the rhythm at the end of a sentence is adapted to Byzantine habits

(on which see P. Maas, Greek Metre, 1962, para. 23). Another type

aims to avoid hiatus in prose: a Ptolemaic papyrus of Xenophon's

Memorabilia (P. Heidelberg 206) reveals that the medieval tradi-

tion has suffered from this kind of refinement. But a much more

21

general cause which operates in all kinds of text is the instinct

to simplify. Bacchylides 15,47 wrote Μοῦσα, τίς πρόσθοτος λόγων

ἄργεν δικαίων; but in the London papyrus the last three words

stand unmetrically in the more straightforward order ἄργεν λόγων

δικαίων. Ovid Am. 1,14,1 wrote dicebam ‘medicare tuos desiste capillos’;

in some manuscripts this has become dicebam ‘desiste tuos medicare

capillos’. Examples could be multiplied indefinitely 16).

This simplification of word order is only one manifestation of

the tendency to banalize, to erode away the unusual form or ex-

pression in favour of the everyday. ὅσσοισι becomes ὅσοις, ἀντείνᾱς

becomes ἀντᾱσίνᾱς, dein becomes deinde, laudarit becomes laudauerit.

Asyndeton is eliminated by the addition of a connecting particle.

Things that the author left to be understood are made explicit.

Constructions that look incomplete are supplemented. It is often

difficult to say how far these processes are conscious. Perhaps

the copyist thinks he may as well make the text a bit easier to read.

Perhaps he genuinely thinks a mistake has been made. Perhaps

he writes down what he expects to see, without thinking. He may

be misled by notes inserted in the margin or between the lines of

his exemplar to aid understanding, and take them as part of the

text or as corrective of it.

The best-known species of this genus is the gloss, that is, a

word or phrase that explains a word or phrase in the text. Glosses

may intrude into the text, either in place of what they were meant

to explain or in addition to it. For example, in Hipponax fr. 72,7

ἀπηναρίσθη ‘Πήσος Αἰνειέων πάλμυς, the rare word πάλμυς survives

only in one manuscript (in the corrupt form παλαμός), while the

others give βαϲιλεύς instead. In fr. 66 of the same poet, trans-

mitted as χούς ὡς κύων χρυφιόδακτης λάθαρϒος ὕστερον τρέψει, the

gloss χρυφιόδακτης has got in without displacing λα(i)θαρϒος.

Another example, which will illustrate a different kind of gloss,

16. See W. Headlam, Classical Review 16, 1902, 243ff.; W. Rönsch, Cur et quo-

modo librarii verborum collocationem in Ciceronis orationibus commutaverint,

Diss. Leipzig 1914; Havet, Manuel…, pp. 242–6.

22

is Petronius 36, quo facto uidemus infra {scilicet in altero ferculo}altilia

et sumina. A gloss that resembles the word explained is particularly

liable to be mistaken for a correction; e. g. ἀγγέλου has ousted ἀγγά-

ρου in the manuscripts of Aeschylus Ag. 282, and πλήσσωσιν has

ousted ῥήσσωσιν at Callimachus Hymn. 3,243. A particularly com-

mon type of gloss consists of a proper name supplied where the

author used a circumlocution, as in the Panegyric of Messalla

(Corpus Tibull. 3,7) 56 Aetnaeae Neptunius incola rupis, where the

gloss Cyclops has intruded into the line above17).

When, however, a scribe writes γὰρ above δὲ (Hes. Th. 161 L),

this cannot strictly be called a gloss; nor is it meant as a correction

or variant. It is advice to the reader on how to interpret the

sequence of thought. The writing of o over vocatives in some

Latin manuscripts is not dissimilar18). In these cases too, as with

glosses in the proper sense, incorporation in the text will have a

banalizing effect. There are also kinds of marginal note, which

are not glosses but can enter the text. The most important consists

of a quotation of some other passage that a reader has been re-

minded of. So at Aeschylus Persae 253, the somewhat similar verse

Sophocles Ant. 277 is written in the margin of M; copies made

from M have incorporated it in the text.

There are several ways in which an individual word may be

miswritten without having been misread. By far the commonest

way is partial assimilation to some other word nearby. Endings

are particularly liable to be assimilated, bringing confusion to the

syntax. The following examples occur in a hundred lines of Euri-

pides' Heracles: 364 τάν τ’ ὀρεινόμων ἀγρίων Κενταύρων ποτὲ γένναν

(for ὀρεινόμον, assisted by phonetic equivalence); 372 χέρας πλή-

ροῦντας (for πληροῦντεσ); 396 χρυσέων πετάλων ἄπο μηλοφόρον χερὶ

χαρπόν (for χρύσεον . . . μηλοφόρων?); 398 ἄπλατον ἀμφελιχτόν ἕλιχ’

17. A number of examples, and references to other discussions of the phenomenon,

are given by R. Merkelbach, Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 1, 1967,

100–2.

18. See G. P. Goold, Phoenix 23, 1969, 198; Havet, Manuel . . ., p. 291.

23

ἐφρόνει (for ἐμφρονεῖν); 412 ὑγροῦν ἄλIsa: φίλoν (for ὑγρῶν); 441 τῆς εὐδaimoνας ἦβας (for εὐδaimonος); 456 ὡ μoῖρ' ἐνσταλoῖ' ἐμῶν τε καὶ τέκνων (for ἐμή). Medial assimilation is well illustrated by the inscription on a sixth-century vase (Berlin F 1794): one side has the correct ΞΕΝΟΚΛΕΣ: ΕΠΟΙΕΣΕΝ, the other has ΞΕΝΟΚΛΕΣ:ΕΠΟΚΛΕΣΕΝ. No copying is involved here, which proves that the error is entirely mental, not visual: and in a batch of examination scripts which I had to mark in 1967 I noted no less than 77 slips of the pen of the assimilative type, e. g. ‘a critique of the Roman of his time and of human nature in general’ (‘Rome’ assimilated to the coming ‘human’); ‘an excellent examplic of the rhetoric of Gorgias’; ‘bread, not oxen was the only food known to Dicaeopolis which was put into an oxen’ (for ‘an oven’).

Other standard types of psychological error are haplography, dittography, and simple omission. Haplography means writing once what ought to be written twice, e. g. defendum instead of defendendum; dittography is the opposite, reduplication of a syllable, word, or longer unit. My examination scripts produced fourteen examples of dittography (‘renonown’ for ‘renown’, etc., but more often doubling of a short word like ‘be’ or ‘of’), only three of haplography. Omission too is especially liable to occur with short words, insofar as it results from lack of coordination between mind and hand. There is, however, another kind of omission which may be of any length, and here we must make the transition to error by misreading.

I refer to omissions committed by the scribe because he fails to notice a portion of the text before him. Often the oversight has a mechanical cause: similar words or phrases appear twice on the same page, and the scribe, after copying as far as the first, mistakes the second for the place he has reached, and so omits what comes in between. This is the so-called saut du même au même. For instance, in Seneca epist. 74,8 modo in banc partem, modo in illam respicimus, one group of manuscripts omits the first phrase, while in 113,17 repetition of the phrase ergo non sunt animalia has caused the omission of six sentences. In verse the

scribe's copying unit tends to be the line or half-line, so that

verbal similarities at line-end (homoeoteleuton) or line-be-

ginning (homoearchon)19 are particularly likely to mislead

him. In general it may be said of these mechanical omissions that

they affect short passages of a line or two much more frequently

than long ones, because the scribe usually remembers approxi-

mately where he has got to on the page.

Simple misreading of words is not uncommon. Letters

could be mistaken for other letters singly or in combination. The

particular errors liable to occur naturally varies according to the

different styles of writing current at different times. Familiarity

with these can only be acquired by examining manuscripts or

facsimiles, preferably with the guidance of an expert teacher20).

But it will be in place here to list the standard letter-confusions.

Greek uncials (from 300 B.C.): A = Δ = Λ. Γ = T. Є = Θ =

O = C. H = ЄI. H = N = K = IC. ΛΛ = M. AI = N. T = Y.

μ = v. v = ρ. π = στ.

Greek minuscule (from the ninth century, at first concurrent

with capitals): α = αv. α = εl. α = εv. β = x = μ. ε = εv. η = x.

Latin capitals (down to the sixth century): B = R. C = P.

C = G = O. D = O. E = F. H = N. I = L = T. M = NI.

N = AI. O = Q. P = T.

19. The terms are applicable to any pair of words or phrases, not only to lines of

verse. For ‘homoearchon’ some use the equally correct formation ‘homoearcton’.

‘Homoeomeson’, coined by Housman, has established itself as a useful addition

to the group.

20. A useful start can be made from E. Maunde Thompson, Introduction to Greek

and Latin Palaeography (Oxford 1912); C. H. Roberts, Greek Literary Hands

(Oxford 1955); E. G. Turner, Greek Manuscripts of the Ancient World (Oxford

1971); P. F. de’ Cavalieri and J. Lietzmann, Specimina Codicum Graecorum Vati-

canorum (Bonn 1910); F. Ehrle and P. Liebaert, Specimina Codicum Latinorum

(Berlin & Leipzig 1927, repr. 1967); R. Merkelbach and H. van Thiel, Griechisches

Leseheft (Göttingen 1965), Lateinisches Leseheft (Göttingen 1969), where further

bibliography.

25

Latin uncials (third to eighth century): B = R. C = € = G = O.

CI = U. D = O = U. F = P = R. I = L = T. M = CO. N =

AI. O = Q.

Latin minuscule (from the eighth century): a = u. b = h.

c = e. cl = d. c = t. f = s. in = m = ui. n = u.

It should be understood that this classification greatly over-

simplifies, particularly with regard to Latin script: there were

several transitional forms between uncial and minuscule, and

some very different types of minuscule. In all the categories it is

the case that individual hands vary, some allowing more ambiguity

than others.

As long as a scribe finds his exemplar reasonably intelligible,

he does not read it letter by letter but takes in a whole word or

phrase at one glance. His misreadings are therefore not always

analysable in terms of individual letters: the aspect of the word as

a whole may deceive him if he happens to combine the strokes he

sees in the wrong way. This is especially easy in Latin minuscule,

where slightly sinuous uprights play an important part in the

formation of several letters. For example finit (finit) in Manilius

3,229 is misread as funt (sunt) ; mucius(Mucius) in 4,31 as iuuenis

(iuuenis).

Texts were written without word-division down to the end of

antiquity, and even later the division is sometimes incomplete or

inconspicuous. Many mistakes result from a copyist seeing part

of one word as part of another, or one word as two, etc.; e.g.

tò dè σàφανὲς in Pindar Ol. 10,55 appears in some manuscripts

as tò δ' èς àφανὲς. The rare word was hard to recognize. Similarly

in Propertius 2,32,5 deportant esseda Tibur, where N has made

deportantes sed abitir. Obscure words and proper names fre-

quently baffle the scribes. Catullus' annales Volusi (36,1) be-

comes annale suo lusi - totally meaningless, but Latin words21).

Copyists grasp at indications that they are writing the required

21. Further examples in Havet, Manuel. . ., pp. 206–7.

26

language even if they cannot quite follow its meaning, and it is not

often that they abandon all pretence of articulacy. That happens

in the Medicean manuscript of Aeschylus’ Supplices, where the

scribe had a single damaged uncial exemplar before him and was

often baffled by the difficult text. It happens most surely when a

Latin copyist who does not know Greek suddenly finds himself

faced with a Greek phrase or quotation: then he is reduced to

imitating the shapes of unknown letters, and gibberish soon

results, leaving the critic with beautiful examples of purely visual

corruptions unspoiled by other factors: ΛΙΔΕΟΜΛΙΒΑΣΛΗ-1

ΠΟΛΧΡΥСОΙОМΥICННС (αἰδέομαι βασιλήα πολυχρύσοιο Μυχή-

νης. Gramm. Lat. 6,505 Keil).

The use of abbreviations is a common source of error. In

antiquity abbreviation was little used except in documents and

texts of a sub-literary nature such as commentaries. The only

abbreviations common in literary texts are the numeral signs; a

stroke above the last vowel of the line, indicating final ν in Greek,

n or m in Latin; and b;, q;, for -bus, -que. Later, when Christian

scribes appear on the scene, we find the so-called nomina sacra

abbreviated in the style ΘC for θεός, DS for deus; declined, acc.

ΘΝ, DM, gen. ΘY, DI, dat. ΘΩ, DО. In time these abbreviations

came to be used in pagan texts too, and it is worth noting the ones

likely to be encountered there: ΘC = θεός, KC = κύριος, YC =

υἱός, CTC = σταυρός, ANOC = ἄνθρωπος, OYNOC = οὐρανός,

ΠНР = πατήρ (voc. ΠΕΡ, acc. ΠРА, gen. ΠРС, dat. ΠΡΙ, nom.

pl. ΠРЕС etc.), MHP = μήτηρ, COP = σωτήρ, ΠΝΑ = πνεῦμα

(gen. ПNС, dat. ПNI, pl. ПNАTА etc.). DS = deus, SPS =

spiritus, DNS = dominus, SCS = sanctus, NR = noster (NRA,

NRI, etc.), VR = uester22). Derivatives can be formed from these,

e. g. оuvıoσ = οὐράνιος, προxλέης = Πατροχλέης. It is this type of

22. There are numerous variations. The classic study is L. Traube, Nomina Sacra

(München 1907); more recent evidence in A. H. R. E. Paap, Nomina Sacra in the

Greek Papyri of the first five centuries A. D. (Leyden 1959).

27

abbreviation that is responsible for such confusions as παρί for

πρίν, ἄλ(ϲ)ω for ἀνϑρώπ(ων), domini for diu (Catullus 61,125).

The rise of minuscule script, with its cursive ancestry, brought

a much wider range of abbreviations into use, and no attempt

can be made here to give an account of them. Many of them involve

the replacement of letters (particularly in terminations) by short-

hand symbols. Valuable works of reference exist on the subject 23)

but there is no substitute for experience with manuscripts if the

critic is to handle it with real skill. However, it is possible to

exaggerate its importance: abbreviations are not actually misread

as often as some ingenious emenders think.

A type of error that involves visual misinterpretation but not

actual misreading occurs when the copyist refers a marginal or

interlinear correction to the wrong place in the text. At Hesiod

Th. 239, for instance, L gives ἐρύθην at the beginning of the line

instead of Εὐρύθην, but in the margin the scribe has written εὐρυ:

in one of the apographa this has been added to Γαίη in 240, making

εὐρυγαíη. It is much the same when an intrusive gloss displaces,

not the word being glossed, but another nearby (an example was

given on p. 23). It may also happen that a gloss or variant written

between the lines becomes conflated with the word below or

above, producing a mixture of the two which may be bizarre.

Thus at Hesiod Th. 355 the lost copy k must have had διώ́νη at

the end, mistakenly repeated from 353, with the correction βoῶπις

above it. The apographa K and u preserved this arrangement, but

in the next generation the Mosquensis 462 (copied from K) pro-

duced βoνῶ́πις, and U (copied from u) βoδιώ́νη. Again, if a phrase

or line is accidentally omitted and then restored in the margin,

the next copyist may insert it in the wrong place in the text: this

is the cause of many transpositions.

23. See E. Maunde Thompson, Introduction to Greek and Latin Palaeography,

79 ff.; W. M. Lindsay, Notae Latinae (Cambridge 1915); Doris Bains, A Supple-

ment to Notae Latinae (Cambridge 1936); A. Cappelli, Dizionario di abbreviature

latine ed italiane (Milano 1929); A. Pelzer, Abréviations latines médiévales

(Louvain & Paris 1964) (supplements Cappelli).

28

Finally it must be noted that one corruption often leads to another, some efford of interpretation on the part of the scribe being usually involved. E.g. at Aristophanes Ach. 832 αλλ’ αμίν was wrongly divided as αλλα μίν (R), and then μίν became μϳν or μϨν. Under this heading belongs the whole large class of scribal emendations that are prompted by a corrupt reading and are themselves mistaken. Multi-stage corruption of a purely graphic kind is rare: where non-adjacent letters in a word or phrase have been misread, as at Thucydides 6,74,2 OPIA KAI became ΘPA(I)-KAC, or as at Plato Gorg. 467b CXETAIΑ became ΞΞETAIΑ, it is often easier to assume that they were misread simultaneously. In emendation, accordingly, one should not go too far in postulating multiple misreading.

The main causes of textual discrepancy have now been surveyed, and it will be seen how various they are. They are not all equally operative in any given text24). On the other hand the critic must keep in mind all those that are or may be operative in the text he is dealing with, and not follow a one-sided approach. How he may best set about his task is the subject of the next two chapters.

2. Organizing the data

The spade-work of collecting information about the readings of the manuscripts and other sources is more likely to be done by an editor than by anyone else, and I will deal with it in Part II. For the moment I will assume that the critic has a body of such information at his disposal.

His first job is to make an assessment of the quality of the different sources, which is in part a question of their relationships

24. I may mention here the copious collections of examples in Douglas Young’s articles ‘Some Types of Error in Manuscripts of Aeschylus’ Oresteia’ (Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 5, 1964, 85–99) and ‘Some Types of Scribal Error in Manuscripts of Pindar’ (ibid. 6, 1965, 247–73); W. Wyse, The Speeches of Isaeus (Cambridge 1904), pp. xxxvi-xlvii; C. Austin, Menandri Aspis et Samia I (Berlin 1969), pp. 59–65; H. Fränkel, Einleitung . . ., pp. 22–47.

to one another. Suppose there are, besides a medieval manuscript

tradition, some fragments of a papyrus a thousand years older

than any of the complete manuscripts, and a few ancient quota-

tions. Can connexions be seen between the text of the papyrus

and that of the later copies? Are there any cases where the same

corruption is present in both? Are there cases where the papyrus

offers an inferior reading? Does it ever share an inferior reading

with part of the later tradition, and if so, does it side consistently

with a particular group of manuscripts? How were the quota-

tions made, from direct knowledge or at second hand? From

memory or from a book? How scrupulous was the quoting author,

and how good was the text known to him? How reliable are the

manuscripts in which he is preserved, and do they give the quota-

tion in the form in which he made it? Suppose again there is a

translation. When was it made? How accurate was it, and how

accurately has it been transmitted? Then there is the main manu-

script tradition itself. Are any of the manuscripts directly de-

scended from other extant copies? Is it possible to recognize

groups of closely related copies, or to construct a stemma? What

are the habits of the individual scribes?

The inquiry proceeds on two fronts, from external and from

internal evidence. It may be known from an external source who

made the translation, for instance. Manuscripts may contain dates

or signatures; if not, a palaeographer will be able to tell ap-

proximately at what periods they were written, and sometimes

where (in the case of Latin manuscripts, the regional varieties of

Latin script being firmly identified) or by whom. In dating paper

manuscripts watermarks can be a useful guide to the date of manu-

facture1). Or there may be a record of a manuscript's original pro-

1. See C. M. Briquet, Les filigranes. Dictionnaire historique des marques du papier

dès leur apparition vers 1282 jusqu'en 1600. T. 1–4 (Leipzig 19232). – Opuscula,

(Hilversum 1955); The Briquet Album. A miscellany on watermarks, supple-

menting Dr. Briquet's Les filigranes, (Hilversum 1952). (= Monumenta chartae

papyraceae historiam illustrantia, ed. by E. J. Labarre. Vol. 4 and 2.)

30

venance. Such data can be combined with what is known of the

general historical conditions that governed the transmission of

classical texts at different times ²), as well as with more particular

facts such as the movements of individual known scribes, or the

presence of the author in a medieval catalogue pertaining to an

identified library.

Upon this historical backcloth we project the more exact in-

formation derived from internal evidence, in particular the inter-

relationships of the copies as inferred from comparison of their

readings. How far they can be inferred, and how it is done, are

the questions that they will occupy us for the rest of this chapter.

I am conscious of committing a hysteron proteron here, in

leaving for the next chapter the subject of the evaluation of

variants. Although this evaluation – which involves deciding not

only which variants are true and which false, but also which are

scribes’ emendations – becomes easier after the character and

relationships of the sources have been defined, it is necessary, in

order that they can be defined, to carry out as much of it as pos-

sible beforehand. I think it will be better, nevertheless, if I post-

pone discussing its principles till later, and for the present simply

assume possession of the evaluative faculty.

Dealing with a closed recension

Whenever there are two or more manuscripts available, the at-

tempt must be made to determine their historical relationship,

so that this can be taken into account, together with other con-

siderations, in the evaluation of their variants. The attempt will

succeed approximately in proportion to the freedom of the tradi-

tion from contamination: ‘the tradition’, of course, means in this

context that area of the tradition which is represented by the extant

manuscripts.

²) For a good brief survey see L. D. Reynolds & N. G. Wilson, Scribes and Scholars

(Oxford 1968).

In the absence of contamination, each copy will contain the

same errors that were in the exemplar from which it was made,

minus those that the scribe has seen and corrected, plus some

additional ones (unless, perhaps, the text is very short). This

axiom is the basis of stemmatic analysis. Suppose there are six

extant manuscripts, ABCDEF, related as follows ([a][b][c] denote

non-extant copies):

It will be possible to deduce their relationship from the pattern

of agreements and disagreements among them; only it is important

to realize that what is significant for this purpose is not agreement

in true readings inherited from more ancient tradition, but agree-

ment in readings of secondary origin, viz. corruptions and emen-

dations, provided that they are not such as might have been pro-

duced by two scribes independently. The argument will run like

this:

There are some errors(3) common to all six manuscripts, there-

fore they all descend from a copy in which all these readings were

present, unless one of the six is itself the source from which the

other five descend; but this is not the case, because each of them

has other errors which are not reproduced in the rest. The arche-

type (defined as the lowest common ancestor of the known manu-

scripts) is therefore a lost copy [a].

3. In what follows 'errors' should be understood as a convenient abbreviation for

'readings of secondary origin' as just defined.

32

There are further errors common to BCDEF but avoided by A, therefore they have their own ‘hyparchetype’. As A has errors of its own, this hyparchetype is not derived from A but independently from [a]. As BCDEF each have some errors which are not shared by the whole group, none of them is identical with the hyparchetype and we must assume another lost copy, [b].

BF share some further errors from which CDE are free. But there are no errors in B which are not also in F, while F has some errors peculiar to itself. Therefore F is directly descended from B4).

DE share errors from which BCF are free. Each also has peculiar errors, so neither is derived from the other, but both are dependent upon another hyparchetype [c].

Of the three copies of [b], namely B, C, and [c] as reconstructed from DE, no two agree in error where the third has the correct reading and could not have got it by conjecture. No two of them, therefore, are dependent upon one another or on a further hyparchetype: all three come independently from [b].

Having established the stemma, we can use it to eliminate some of the variants by showing that they originated in such-and-such a manuscript and were not inherited from the earlier tradition. Our aim will be to discover as far as possible what was in [a].

We shall ignore F, since we have found its exemplar; it can only be of use to us as a source of emendations, or in a place where B’s text has become obscured or damaged since F was copied from it. From the agreement of D with E (in good readings as well as bad) we can infer what was in [c]. If D and E disagree, it will be possible to decide which of them is faithful to [c] on the basis of agreement with B and/or C, provided that [c] reproduces the reading of [b]; and even where it does not, it will often be

4. In practice it is easy to mistake an apograph for a closer congener and vice versa. The assumption of direct dependence is more certain if it is possible to point to some physical feature of the exemplar which accounts for the reading of the apograph: a lost or torn page, words obscured by damp or written in a way that invited misreading

33

easy to decide which of the variants in DE must have arisen first

(in [c]) and which second. Next, from comparison of B, C and [c],

we shall usually be able to tell what was in [b], because it will be

seldom that more than one of them will diverge from [b] at the

same time, and then the agreement of any one of the three with A

would give the reading of both [b] and [a].

We attain our goal, knowledge of the reading of [a], whenever

we find A in agreement with [b], i.e. with BCDE, BCD, BCE, BC,

CDE, CD, CE, BDE, BD or BE; or even with a single one of these

manuscripts where two copies of [b] have admitted innovations

independently. We can then treat this as the sole transmitted read-

ing (to be judged on its merits), and disregard the other variants.

But what if A and [b] disagree? In some cases it may be clear

which reading was the source of the other. Otherwise the question

must be left open5).

Now that the principle has been explained, it is necessary to

point out some possible complications that were deliberately

excluded from the hypothetical situation given above. Suppose

that of the nine manuscripts in the system only three were extant

instead of six, namely A, F and D. Comparison of their readings

would give us the following stemma:

5. Sometimes the condition of an archetype allows deductions about earlier copies.

The Lucretius archetype, for instance, contained some errors caused by misreading

of Rustic capitals, others caused by misreading of insular minuscule, so that two

'proarchetypes' are conjured up.

We would judge FD to be two copies of [b], and so removed two

steps from [a]. We would not be able to tell that there were in

fact intermediate copies between [b] and F and between [b] and

D, unless we found corruptions such as could only have occurred

in two stages. Any stemma that we construct for the manuscripts

of a classical author is liable in the same way to be an oversimpli-

fication of the historical reality. However, it will not be a serious

falsification, provided that our reasoning has been careful, and

provided that contamination is not present in the system. We shall

get the readings of [a] in nearly all cases from AFD as surely as

we would from ABCDE. Even if only AF are extant, their agree-

ment will still give us [a], though we shall be worse off in that

they will disagree more often than A and [b] did, and so leave us

more often in doubt.

If contamination is present we may be seriously misled. Suppose

that the scribe of F, besides copying B, kept an eye on A and

borrowed some readings from there, and suppose then that A

was lost. The true stemma would now be:

We would observe that F sometimes avoided errors common to

the rest, and that B sometimes sided with C and [c], sometimes

with F. We would construct this stemma:

35

We would discard B as a contaminated manuscript offering nothing that was not to be found in the other sources, and we would treat the peculiar readings of F as being as likely as those of [b] to be those of the archetype. Insofar as they were drawn from A, this would be correct, but insofar as they were errors made by B, or in copying from B, it would be false. If a codicologist told us that B was in fact written earlier than F, we would merely postulate an intermediary between [a] and F, and adjust our dotted lines.

Such misapprehensions no doubt occur, and there is no infallible way of avoiding them. The best one can do is opt for the hypothesis that fits the facts most straightforwardly, taking great care that it does fit them. If contamination is present in more than a slight degree, it will be found that no stemmatic hypothesis is satisfactory. Before we consider what to do in those circumstances, let us notice one other kind of complication that may affect a closed recension.

Suppose that the archetype [a] (in our original, uncontaminated system) contained marginal variants or corrections, so that the scribes of A and [b] were faced with the various choices listed on pp. 12f. We might find as a consequence an inferior variant shared by A with one of the three copies of [b], something that could not happen, except by coincidence, with the simple form of lineal descent that we began by envisaging. If we found that it had happened, there would be two explanations available: (i) that

36

there were variants in [a], reproduced in [b], and the scribe of C

(let us say) made the same choice as the scribe of A; (ii) that the

link between A and C is the result of cross-contamination, C

having consulted A or a copy closely related to A, or vice versa.

There is a good chance that if (i) is the case, one or two of the

extant manuscripts will still give both variants. At Catullus 12,4,

for instance, the primary manuscripts, being related as shown,

give:

V must have had the variants; the agreement of OR does not

show that it had falsum in the text. Whenever several manuscripts

sporadically or simultaneously record each other's readings as

variants, this is a probable sign of variants in their exemplars.

When on the other hand a single manuscript offers a series of

marginal variants which correspond to those known from another

manuscript or family, it is a sign of contamination.

Dealing with an open recension

Besides OGR there are many later, derivative manuscripts of

Catullus whose affinities cannot be reduced to a stemma. But

because the three primary manuscripts permit us to reconstruct

the archetype, it is possible to concentrate on them and treat the

tradition as a closed one. The situation is similar with, for example,

Lucretius and Theognis. We speak of an open recension when

the older manuscripts, or more strictly all those manuscripts in

37

which worthwhile variants (other than emendations) appear for the first time, are not related perspicuously and do not allow us to construct an archetype.

Different kinds of situation may be involved here. Firstly, the contamination may not be as total as it seems at first sight: some of the manuscripts do descend from an archetype directly enough for it to be reconstructed, and it is only the eclecticism of the others that confuses the picture. In its simplest form this situation may be represented thus:

Secondly, there may be an archetype from which all the extant copies are indirectly descended, but with cross-contamination making intermittent links between all the branches of the tradition, so that their agreements are never reliable indications of what was in the archetype. Thirdly, it may be that there was no archetype at all, apart from the author's original, because two or more unrelated ancient copies survived into the Middle Ages to become independent fountain-heads.

How is the critic to discover which of these situations he is facing? There is no infallible way, but certain criteria are applicable. Suppose the first case is true, the one illustrated by the stemma above. It is easy to see that whereas AC will sometimes agree in error against B, and BC against A, AB will never agree in error against C6). Here lies a criterion. If we tabulate the combinations in which the manuscripts err, and fill in the number of agreements in significant error not shared by the whole tradition, thus7):

6. I must refer again to p. 32 n. 3.

7. The table cannot show agreements of three or more manuscripts, but that is unnecessary for the present purpose. There are quicker ways of doing the job.

38

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

B

C

D

E

F

6

14

16

7

19

8

12

6

7

3

9

27

25

8

11

22

7

10

9

8

20

it will soon be seen whether there are any manuscripts that never err together where another part of the tradition preserves the truth. (Any very low figures will deserve closer investigation.) It should be possible to put any such manuscripts in a serviceable stemmatic relationship. For instance, if B never errs with H or P, though H and P often err with each other, we can extract the stemma

and discard all the other manuscripts, which have no better readings to offer (ex hypothesi) and merely confuse matters.

I spoke of a ‘serviceable’ stemmatic relationship, meaning ‘not necessarily historically exact’. Suppose we have six manuscripts BCDEFM, actually related as in the stemma overleaf.

When their readings are compared it is obvious that BCEF form a close-knit group; further inspection reveals its structure, and we can now quote b instead of the individual copies. What is its

Instead of entering numbers, one may simply tick the spaces as the various agreements are established (more care must then be taken to see that they are significant). Or, if it is once established that C alone preserves such-and-such a true reading, it only remains to show that each of the other manuscripts is somewhere in error with C. If each of three sources is somewhere the only one to preserve the truth, the question is answered.

39

relationship to D and M? We observe that DM sometimes agree

in error against b, and M b at other times against D; but never

D b against M, for M cannot preserve the truth by itself. If it got

it from ζ–η–θ it would also be in D, and if it got it from ε it would

also be in b (which has no choice when ε and M agree). We will

infer a stemma of the form

Now this is clearly rather more than an oversimplification of the

true state of affairs. But it expresses correctly the basic truth that

readings from α which survive in extant manuscripts must have

followed one of two routes, and, barring two independent cor-

ruptions, must appear in D or b.

40

By the use of the tabulation method, then, we can determine whether there are lines of tradition that have remained more or less independent of each other throughout. It does not tell us, however, whether there was an archetype. Take the stemma given above for BHP. It posits an archetype, and for practical purposes the assumption will be harmless. But it is possible that B derives from one ancient copy and HP from another that was not cognate with the first. The common assumption that the transmission of a Greek or Latin author normally depends on a single minuscule manuscript, the first and last to be transcribed from an ancient copy or copies (with variants recorded in some cases), is of rather limited validity, as Pasquali has demonstrated8). What criteria can be applied here?

It might be thought – and Pasquali himself thinks – that if all the manuscripts agree in error that implies misreading of minuscule script, there must have been a minuscule archetype. Not necessarily. If there has been contamination, there is no certainty that those errors were all to be found in the same prototype, or, if they were, that it was an archetype in the sense that all its errors were inherited by the later tradition. But the quantity and the quality of the errors come into consideration here. The greater their number, the less chance there is that they were diffused ‘horizontally’; and again, the more obviously false they are, the less credible it is that they were chosen by scribes to whom alternative readings were available.

That there was no single archetype may be inferred in the following ways. (1) From the presence in the medieval tradition of many pairs of variants known to be ancient. A reading can be taken as ancient either if it is attested by an ancient source or if it is true. If the medieval tradition in a series of places preserves true readings which could not have been restored by conjecture, side by side with false variants which already occur in papyri or

8. Storia . . ., chapter VI, particularly pp. 210–3. 259–61. 273–8. 295–8. 303–4. 375–8. 386–9. See also Barrett, Euripides: Hippolytos, p. 58.

ancient quotations 9), and if this happens more than can reasonably be accounted for by the recording of variants in the margins of an archetype 10) or in a body of scholia, then it is necessary to assume more than one line of transmission from antiquity. (ii) From the presence of divergences so substantial, or at so early a date within the Middle Ages, that one cannot believe them to have arisen in the short time available or under the conditions that prevailed after the end of antiquity.

In the absence of such indications it will often be an open question whether there was a single archetype or not. As I have intimated, it is not actually a question of much practical importance. What is important is to recognize that medieval variants are often ancient variants, and that ancient attestation of one of the manuscript alternatives does not necessarily mean that it is the true alternative.

When the critic has established that no stemma can be constructed, how is he to proceed? He must, of course, see what groupings are apparent among the manuscripts, and whether the individual groups can be analysed stemmatically, as was the case with BCEF in the example on p. 40; even if they cannot, he can treat them as units in his further cogitations, provided that they have a sharply defined identity. Thus he reduces his problem to its basic terms.

In distinguishing fundamental affinities from the superficial ones produced by contamination, in other words, in distinguishing vertical from horizontal elements in the transmission, he may sometimes be helped by the principle that the most significant agreements between manuscripts are those involving omissions and transpositions (insofar as they are not due to some evident mechanical factor such as homoeoteleuton), since these are not easily transmitted horizontally – though it is not impossible.

9. Provided that the quotations were unknown to the scribes. See also pp. 10–11 on the influence of direct traditions an the text of quotations.

10. Barrett points out that such an archetype would have to contain far more variants than the number preserved among its surviving descendants.

The aim now is to determine which of the manuscripts or manuscript families are most independent of each other, for these must go back most directly to the earliest phases of the tradition that we can reach, and they must be the most fruitful sources of ancient readings. The critic will take note of the general appearance of the various witnesses first - that this one is a humanist's copy, liable to contain much emendation; that here is a major family that preserves its identity from the twelfth century into the fifteenth, and so on. His attention will naturally be drawn by any manuscripts that stand out from the rest by reason of their age, or are notable for agreements with an ancient source. He may well consider whether these apparently noble documents are all that he needs, or whether there are others that preserve further ancient readings.

This approach perhaps savours of trial and error, but it is not difficult to develop it into a generally applicable sorting procedure. The steps are these:

1. Whenever the manuscripts are at variance, make a note of the reading or readings that seem to be ancient (true, and not found by conjecture, or else attested by an ancient source unavailable to the scribes) and the manuscripts in which it or they appear.

2. Any manuscript that is the sole carrier of such readings is obviously indispensable. Adopt it.

3. Remove from the list all the readings for which the manuscripts just adopted may serve as sources (not just the readings that appear only in them).

4. See which manuscript contains the largest number of the remaining readings. Adopt it. Remove from the list the readings it contains.

5. Repeat (4) until every ancient reading is accounted for.

This is the most efficient way of reducing to a minimum the number of manuscripts that have to be quoted as witnesses to the tradition. The remainder can be eliminated. The elimination is primarily for practical convenience: it is not quite like the elimination

43

of apographa which demonstrably cannot tell us anything new.

Nevertheless, there must be a correlation between lack of indivi-

dual good readings and lack of independent sources. Even though

the sorting method cannot elucidate the complex affinities of the

manuscripts, it produces results that stand in some relation to

them. This may perhaps be made clear with the help of an imag-

inary example. Suppose we have fourteen manuscripts ABCDEF

GHIKLMNO, actually related as follows (the stemma is an ex-

tended form of the one on p. 40):

When their readings are compared it is soon discovered that NO

are copied from D and can be dispensed with; that BCEF are so

related that their hyparchetype b can be used instead; and that

GHIKL form a group which can be treated as a unit, even if its

structure resists analysis. The fourteen witnesses are thus reduced

to five, ADM b g. Further stemmatic construction turns out to

be impossible. None of the five is the direct source of another - not

consistently, at any rate - and each of them shares errors with

one, two or three of the others in bewilderingly various combina-

tions. We apply the sorting procedure. We find that only A has

good readings peculiar to it; b has the largest number of the good

readings that are not in A; and D contains all the remainder,

whereas there are some that are not in M and others that are not

in g. We decide therefore to base our recension on A b D.

What can we guess about the sources lying behind our manu-

scripts? A's unmatched ability to produce individual good read-

ings (despite its late date) implies access to a source independent of

those that feed the others11). The others perhaps draw on the same

range of sources, but b and D have profited most from them.

M and g have chosen less well, or found them in a less pure state;

each sometimes has a good reading that one or two of the trio

A b D have missed, but never one that all three have missed.

These conclusions approximate to the truth. A has individual

good readings because of its access to λ. When it is in the wrong,

the right reading is more often found in b than anywhere else,

because A followed M more often than b, and M followed η–θ

more often than the purer line δ–ε. When A and b are both in the

wrong, the right reading is preserved in D if at all, because, if a

corruption occurs (or is present from the start) on the line

γ–δ–ε–(M–)b, and A fails to pick up the true reading from λ, then

it can be preserved only by way of η and θ, and D is the only

manuscript consistently faithful to θ. M cannot preserve the truth

against both D and b, for the reason given on p. 40, and a similar

argument applies to g.

11. If there had been a second copy that also had good readings peculiar to itself,

that would not necessarily imply a second such source. It and A might be selecting

independently from the same source. But in this case we should expect them at

least as often to make the same choice and agree in good readings unknown to the

rest of the tradition.

45

Now this manufactured example will illustrate a general truth.

Whenever the manuscripts give divergent readings, one of which is primary and the other secondary, the secondary reading has originated at a given point in the tradition, and has come down by certain routes to all the copies in which it appears; the primary reading has come down by a route or routes which bypass that point and have no station in common with those other routes.

The extant tradition will depend ultimately upon a very limited number of early medieval copies, and there will be a very limited number of possible routes from them to the extant manuscripts that do not touch at any point.

To escape from the oldest corruptions we can escape from, we depend on those routes.

The extant readings will not have consistently come down by those routes to particular manuscripts, in a contaminated tradition; but the sorting procedure that I have recommended must have the effect of isolating the manuscripts which have benefited from them most.

Of the value of other sorting methods, in particular statistical methods, I remain sceptical.

A numerical table of significant agreements between every two manuscripts, as described on p. 38, will provide objective confirmation of groupings suggested by casual inspection, and will indicate how clear-cut they are (e.g. how much more often GHIKL agree with each other than with other manuscripts);

but simply collecting the evidence, without reducing it to figures, will probably have given a clear enough picture already.

Indeed, where groups of three or more manuscripts are concerned it will have given a clearer one, for the information that A agrees with B 81 times, B with C 92 times, and A with C 79 times does not enable us to deduce that ABC all agree together 73 times, or even once.

A more elaborate way of using such a table has recently been advocated by J. G. Griffith 12).

It involves comparing manuscripts

12. J. G. Griffith: A Taxonomic Study of the Manuscript Tradition of Juvenal, Museum Helveticum 25, 1968, 101-138; Numerical Taxonomy and some primary

46

in respect of the whole numerical series of each one's agreements

with the others; no distinction is made between primary and se-

condary readings, though agreements that may represent coin-

cidental innovation are excluded. Suppose manuscript A shows the

following numbers of agreements with the others:

B F G H J K L N O P R T U V Z

50 44 61 49 52 48 62 62 48 42 44 53 61 47 43.

For each manuscript a similar series of numbers is found. The one

whose series matches that of A most closely is then grouped most

closely with A. Finally the manuscripts are all arranged in a

'spectrum': those with the most dissimilar patterns of agreement

appear at opposite ends, with a continuous gradation from one

end to the other, while certain clusters or 'taxa' mark themselves

off along the line 13). The trouble with this kind of analysis is

that it is not clear what useful conclusions can be drawn from it.

Two manuscripts may be grouped together just because they show

no particular tendency to agree with any manuscript more than

any other, in other words because they are equally promiscuous,

even if they have no special similarity with each other textually 14).

In some cases it is evident that the taxa reflect real affinity-groups,

in others it is not. In any case we are given no guidance as to the

distribution of ancient readings.

3. Diagnosis

When the evidence of the various sources for the text has been

collected and organized, apographa eliminated, hyparchetypes

and archetypes reconstructed where possible, and so on, the time

manuscripts of the Gospels, Journal of Theological Studies n. s. 20, 1969, 389–406.

He is preparing a book.

13. For the method of performing these operations see the author's articles.

14. An example is the taxon JU which Griffith constitutes for Juvenal.

47

has come to try to establish what the author originally wrote.

Sometimes this is a matter of choosing between transmitted

variants, sometimes it is a matter of going beyond them and

emending the text by conjecture, or adopting an emendation

already proposed. We will consider these alternatives separately;

but the requirements which a satisfactory solution must fulfil are

the same in both cases.

1. It must correspond in sense to what the author intended to

say, so far as this can be determined from the context.

2. It must correspond in language, style, and any relevant technical

points (metre, prose rhythm, avoidance of hiatus, etc.) to a way

in which the author might naturally have expressed that sense.

3. It must be fully compatible with the fact that the surviving

sources give what they do; in other words it must be clear how

the presumed original reading could have been corrupted into

any different reading that is transmitted.

The fulfilment of these three conditions does not logically

guarantee that the true solution has been found, and there may

sometimes be more than one solution that fulfils them. An element

of uncertainty may therefore persist even if a reading is open to

no criticism - just as it may exist in places where the sources are

unanimous and what they offer unexceptionable. But often a

reading seems so exactly right that those most familiar with the

author can feel absolute certainty about it.

The evaluation of variants

Many variants are obviously wrong because they offend against

grammar, metre or the plain sense of the passage. The more care-

fully a critic has studied these things, naturally, the more such

faults he will detect; though it is possible to go too far, and to

fall into error by applying more rigid canons of language or logic

than the author observed.

If there are two or more variants in a given passage, and only

48

one of them is not obviously wrong, it does not follow that that one

is right. It may be a plausible but nevertheless incorrect emenda-

tion by a scribe whose exemplar gave the corrupt text. And there

are other possibilities. That a plausible reading is not necessarily

a genuine one is proved by many thousands of places where more

than one of the variants is plausible. (In only a tiny minority of

these can authors’ variants be involved.) By what criteria can we

judge between them?

Such variants are ‘plausible’ in that they satisfy the first two

of the three requirements. It remains, then, to consider how far

they satisfy the third. To some extent this is bound up with an

evaluation of the sources that attest them and with the inter-

relationships of these sources. If the source of one of the variants

is a quotation, the assumption that inaccurate memory is responsible

for it may in many cases be the likeliest explanation of the discre-

pancy. If you think that in general a reading which most of the

manuscripts give is more likely to be right than one which only

a few give, then to make the same assumption in a particular case

where the manuscripts are unevenly divided between plausible

readings, and to prefer the one attested by the majority, will be

to make the choice that (on your view) fits the facts best. That

would, of course, be a very naive principle. If the manuscripts

happen to be related as in the stemma on p. 32, it is easy to see

that a reading given only by A has just as much chance of being

right as one in which BCDEF all agree.

Manuscripts must be weighed, not counted. That is an

old slogan, one of several which deserve remembrance and com-

ment in this connexion. A in the stemma just mentioned ‘weighs’

equal to the other five copies combined. ‘Weight’ is not determined

solely by stemmatic considerations. Let us take a contaminated

tradition for which no stemma can be set up. Where the credit of a

plausible reading is concerned, a tenth-century manuscript whose

scribe is not given to emendation obviously carries greater weight

than a fifteenth-century one that is rich in copyist’s conjectures, at

least if the reading might be a conjecture.

49

This is not to say that the age of a manuscript is necessarily a guide to its quality. Recentiores, non deteriores: that is the famous heading of a chapter in which Pasquali protested against the tendency to equate the two terms, and showed that true readings are sometimes preserved only among the latest manuscripts 1). A propensity to emendation, so far from discrediting a manuscript, may be symptomatic of an interest in the text that also prompted the consultation of out-of-the-way copies, like the use of λ by the late manuscript A in the stemma on page 44. Conversely, very old copies such as papyri sometimes disappoint expectation by giving a worse text than the medieval tradition instead of a better one. The quality of a manuscript can only be established by reading it. And when an opinion has been formed on the quality of a manuscript, it can be used as a criter-ion only when other criteria give no clear answer. The absurdity of following whatever is regarded as the best manuscript so long as its readings are not impossible is perhaps most clearly, and certainly most entertainingly, exposed by Housman, D. Iunii Iuuenalis Saturae (Cambridge 1905; 1931), pp. xi–xvi 2). Each variant must be judged on its merits as a reading before the balance can be drawn and a collective verdict passed. Since the collective judgment is entirely derived from the individual judgments, it cannot be a ground for modifying any of them, but only a ground for making a judgment where none could be made before. As Housman puts it, “since we have found P the most trustworthy MS in places where its fidelity can be tested. we infer that it is also the most trustworthy in places where no test can be applied… In thus committing ourselves to the guidance of the best MS we cherish no hope that it will always lead us right: we know that it will often lead us wrong; but we know that any other MS would lead us wrong still oftener.”

In any case, merely to correlate good readings with good manu-

1. Storia . . ., pp. 43–108.

2. See also Fränkel, Einleitung . . ., pp. 131–4.

50

scripts is a very poor way to satisfy the third requirement of a convincing textual decision. It is not enough just to say “this corruption of what I take to be the right reading is explained by the fact that the manuscripts in which it appears are generally corrupt manuscripts”. A more particular explanation is called for, in terms of known processes of textual change. Hence the criterion utrum in alterum abitum erat? Which reading was the more liable to be corrupted into the other? For example, if part of the tradition gives a word or phrase which is absent in the other part, and both versions give equally good sense and style, one may ask whether it is something that a scribe might have added, or whether it is easier to assume an omission. Where purely visual errors with no psychological side to them are concerned, the criterion has little applicability; it is mainly of use where there has been some mental lapse, or a more or less conscious alteration. Since the normal tendency is to simplify, to trivialize, to eliminate the unfamiliar word or construction, the rule is praestat difficilior lectio3). For instance, in Horace Odes 1,3,37, nil mortalibus ardui est, some manuscripts have arduum, which is equally good Latin, but also more everyday: to any copyist nil arduum would have seemed more natural and obvious than nil ardui, and it is far more likely that an original genitive was changed to the accusative (whether deliberately or not) than vice versa.

When we choose the ‘more difficult’ reading, however, we must be sure that it is in itself a plausible reading. The principle should not be used in support of dubious syntax, or phrasing that it would not have been natural for the author to use. There is an important difference between a more difficult reading and a more unlikely reading.

In deciding that one reading is derived from another and therefore to be eliminated, we are doing something similar to what we

3. The principle was clearly enunciated by Clericus, Ars Critica (Amsterdam 1696), ii. 293. For earlier hints of it see S. Timpanaro, La Genesi del metodo del Lachmann (Firenze 1963), p. 21 n. 1.

51

do when we decide that one manuscript is derived from another.

The principle can be extended. If there are more than two variants

at a given place, we should try to put them into a stemmatic rela-

tionship (if this has not already been done for the manuscripts in

which they appear). For instance, at Aristophanes Ach. 121

εὐνοῦχος ἡμῖν ἡλθες ἐσχευασμένος, there are three different readings

in the manuscripts, logically related as follows:

This does not mean that Γ derived its text from A at that place,

only that it derived it directly or indirectly from a copy which

had the same stage of corruption as we see in A. At 408 the

'stemma variantium' reads:

This assumes that the substitution of ἐγ- for ἐξ- took place inde-

pendently in the Suda (or an antecedent copy) and in A (or an ante-

cedent copy). But a valid alternative would be

52

with ἐx- being restored by conjecture at the last stage. This case where more than one analysis is possible is not exceptional, and the critic must consider what different hypotheses are available, for they may lead to different choices for reading as the original one.

Emendation

As the comparison of manuscripts may lead to the reconstruction of a lost archetype, so comparison of the variants at a particular place may lead one to postulate another reading as their common source. E. g. Hipponax fr. 104,49 (ap. Athenaeum 370a):

Ταργ ήλίοισιν (Schneidewin)

θαργ ήλίοισιν (A) γαργ ήλίοισιν (recentiores).

The reading of A represents a banalization of the Ionic into the familiar form of the name of the festival, the other variant a misreading of uncial T as Γ. Schneidewin’s emendation accounts for both readings and at the same time restores what Hipponax meant to say in the correct dialect; it thus satisfies perfectly the three requirements formulated on p. 48.

But the archetypal reading, reconstructed or extant, may be unsatisfactory. In that case, further conjecture is called for, just as it may be called for if there is complete agreement among the manuscripts. It starts, so far as possible, from the ‘paradosis’ (παράδοσις), which is a rather imprecise but convenient term meaning ‘the data furnished by the transmission, reduced to essentials’. It would be almost true to define it as the text of the archetype in a closed tradition, and the effective consensus of the manuscripts (disregarding trivial or derivative variants) in an open one. But reduction to essentials implies something further, namely the elimination from the archetype-text or the consensus-text of

53

those features which we know, from our general knowledge of

the history of books and writing, to have been introduced since

the time of the author. The category includes orthographical

modernizations, capital letters, word division, punctuation and

other lectional signs.

To take orthography first, in Lucretius 4,1011, where the

primary manuscripts give

porro hominum mentes, magnis quae motibus edunt

magna,

we must choose between quae (recentiores) and qui (Lachmann);

but as quae is really only a way of writing quae, it would be legitimate

to describe quae as the paradosis and not an emendation. In

Semonides 7,4 the primary manuscripts give χυλίνδεῖται, and a

Renaissance copy χυλίνδεται, which is a form better attested for

early Ionic. From one point of view the paradosis may be said to

be χυλίνδεῖται. But when one reflects that Semonides would have

written the contraction of εε simply as E, it appears that the

paradosis really amounts to an ambiguous ϒΛΙΝΔΕΤΑΙ: χυλίν-

δεῖται is some later person’s interpretation of that, but we are free

to prefer the alternative interpretation4). It is an emendation in

the sense that it corrects a presumed error, but not in the sense

that it postulates a form of the text for which evidence is lacking.

In ancient books there was no distinction of proper names, and

hardly any word division. Punctuation existed from at least the

fourth century B.C. and accents from the second, but the use of

these and other signs (such as the apostrophe marking an elision)

was very sporadic; in theory an accent or a breathing in a medieval

copy of a post-Hellenistic writer might go back to the author’s

autograph, but in general all such features of the tradition will

4. In the case of the Homeric poems, however, such decisions will have been made

by men familiar with the sound of the verse as preserved by generations of reciters,

and mistakes are much rarer than has sometimes been thought. See Glotta 44, 1967,

135-6.

54

represent some later person's interpretation of a text consisting of

virtually nothing but a continuous sequence of letters. The critic is

at liberty to re-interpret e. g. ταũτα as ταὐτά, νόμων as νομῶν, maxima

meque as maximam aeque, filiam artis as filia Martis, or to repunctuate,

even if he has taken a vow never to depart from the paradosis 5).

The same applies to the division and attribution of speeches in

dialogue texts. In ancient books a change of speaker was normally

signalled only by a dicolon(:) and/or a paragraphus, a dash over

the beginning of the first complete line. It is not certain whether

even this practice goes back to the earliest times, and the divisions

given by manuscripts are so often erroneous that they cannot be

regarded as useful evidence of the author's intentions 6). Certainly

the attribution of a speech to such-and-such an interlocutor rests

on no tradition that reaches back to the author (except perhaps

where the speaker makes his first appearance) but only on later

interpretation. The practice of regularly identifying the speaker

seems to have been invented by Theodoretus in the fifth century 7).

The critic is free to distribute the dialogue as best fits the sense.

In what circumstances is it legitimate to depart from the para-

dosis, to entertain a conjecture? Many scholars would answer,

"only when it is clear that the paradosis cannot be right". Those

are scholars who will dismiss a conjecture from consideration on

the ground that it is 'unnecessary'. But it does not have to be

'necessary' in order to be true; and what we should be concerned

with is whether or nor it may be true. Consider Euripides, Hippo-

lytus 99–101.

5. Where a vox nihili (nonsense-word) is transmitted, however, accents etc. may be

valuable clues to what lies behind it, since they must have been supplied when the

text was in a more intelligible state.

6. See J. Andrieu, Le Dialogue antique (Paris 1954), pp. 288 ff.; J. C. B. Lowe,

Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies 9, 1962, 27–42; and good modern

editions of Menander (Lloyd-Jones's Dyscolus, Kassel's Sicyonius, Austin's Aspis

and Samia).

7. N. G. Wilson, Classical Quarterly, n. s. 20, 1970, 305.

55

• πῶς οὖν σὺ σεμνὴν δαίμονος οὐ προσεγνέπεσς;

• τίν'; εὐλάβθοι δέ, μὴ τί σοι σφαλῇ στόμα.

• τήνδε ἡ πύλαισι σαῖς ἐφέστηκεν Κύπρις.

So the medieval paradosis (with a variant Kύπρıν); but in a papyrus of the third century B.C. the third line ends ]EΛΛAC, doubtless πέλας in place of the proper name. This is almost certainly the right reading: the intrusion of the name to clarify a circumlocution is a very familiar phenomenon (above, p. 23), whereas there is no reason why an original Kύπρις should have been corrupted into πέλας8). Before the papyrus appeared, however, anyone who had suggested reading “e.g. πέλας” would have been told, “your conjecture is unnecessary: Kύπρις is perfectly satisfactory”. He would have been justified in replying, “I am not saying that Kύπρις is unsatisfactory, I am only warning you not to rely on it too much, because this is just the sort of sentence in which a proper name is liable to be interpolated”. His warning would have been timely and his conjecture correct. Probably no editor would have thought it worth mentioning. Yet it would have deserved mention, because it fulfilled the three requirements stated at the beginning of this chapter, being in full accord with the sense and with Euripides’ style and metre, and easily compatible with the fact that the paradosis gives Kύπρις.

This may seem to be opening the door to innumerable profitless speculations. If we are to attend to every conjecture that is possible, it may be said, there will be no end to it. But this is really not so. The number of conjectures that genuinely satisfy the requirements will not be large; and those that do ought to be attended to. The critic should not be content to exercise his art only on passages where his predecessors have exercised it. He should scrutinize every single word of the text, asking himself whether it is in

8. Barrett’s argument for Kύπρις (p. 439 of his edition) is answered by Merkelbach, Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 1, 1967, 100.

56

keeping with the author's thought and expression9), whether

there are other better or equally good ways of interpreting the

paradosis (e.g. a different punctuation), and whether the assump-

tion that the wording of the paradosis reproduces what the author

wrote is the only hypothesis that satisfactorily accounts for it. We

want to know not only where the paradosis is certainly at fault, but

also how far we can depend on it in other places, and what the limits

of uncertainty are. The discovery of new sources (especially papyri)

has often revealed the presence of corruption where no one had

suspected it. It follows that one ought to be more suspicious.

The textual critic is a pathologist. It is his business to identify

disorders known to him from professional experience and from

textbooks (and the more he can supplement the latter from the

former, the more sagacious he will be). When he notices that all

is not well with a passage, however the paradosis is interpreted,

his first problem is to discover as precisely as possible where the

corruption lies. It may be obvious that one particular word is

wrong and everything else in good order, or it may not. In that

case he must go over the passage word by word, giving careful

thought to the meaning and to the author's writing habits, and

making preliminary decisions of the form "whatever has gone

wrong here, this word at least is just right and not to be tampered

with".

Finding the exact location of the corruption will sometimes

lead him at once to recognize its nature, and perhaps to see the

solution. At other times he will only be able to say where the

corruption is but not what kind it is; or what kind it is, but not

what exactly lies behind it. For instance, if something essential to

the syntax of a sentence or to the progress of an argument is miss-

ing, he may be able to say "there is a lacuna at this point, but

there is no knowing what it contained"; or "there is a lacuna

which must have contained the words..."; or again "there is a

9. It is a good plan to make a translation. Nothing more effectively brings one face

to face with the difficulties of the text.

57

lacuna: the required sense would be given, for example, by…”.

In this case the supplement proposed would fall into the category

of ‘diagnostic’ conjecture, that is, a conjecture which, while no

one can feel confident that it is right, serves the purpose of indi-

cating the kind of sense that is really required or the kind of

corruption that may have occurred. If someone had conjectured

πέλας for Κύπρις in the Hippolytus line discussed above, that would

have been a diagnostic conjecture, by which Κύπρις was diagnosed

as an interpolation of a well-known kind 10). There is a dictum of

Haupt, quoted with approval by Housman and others: “If the

sense requires it, I am prepared to write Constantinopolitanus where

the manuscripts have the monosyllabic interjection o”. The point

he is making is that emendation must start from the sense. But the

failure to explain how Constantinopolitanus came to be corrupted

into o may leave others with certain doubts as to whether that is

really what the sense was. Until those doubts are stilled, the

conjecture has the status of a diagnostic one. The vast majority

of corruptions in manuscripts are explicable. A conjecture which

presupposes an inexplicable corruption is not necessarily false,

but it is not fully convincing. The more completely the critic can

demonstrate that it satisfies the three requirements, the more

plausible it will seem. So far as the first requirement is concerned,

he can do this by analysing the argument of the passage, pointing

out defects in other interpretations, and comparing similar pas-

sages from elsewhere. For the second, too, he will adduce evidence

about the author’s practice generally and that of other authors of

the same period or genre. For the third, he will, if the corruption

is not of a widely-known sort, quote examples of similar ones.

When he claims that one word is a gloss on another, he will if

possible reinforce his case by showing from scholia or lexica that

the other word was so glossed. But he will be well advised not to

make his case too complex by assuming chancy multi-stage cor-

ruptions, and not to rely too much on intricate palaeographical

10. The concept of the diagnostic conjecture is due to Maas, Textkritik, p. 33.

58

arguments. These are the commonest faults in twentieth-century emendation 11).

Even commoner is to deny the need for emendation and to defend the paradosis at all costs. If good arguments can be produced to show that the conjecture is mistaken (not merely 'unnecessary'), that is fine. Understanding has advanced. All too often, however, the defender only succeeds in showing that he has no feeling for style, or does not know where to draw the line between the unusual and the impossible; he asks "could these words bear the required meaning?" instead of "would the meaning have been expressed in these words?" Sometimes one sees a conjecture dismissed simply on the ground that all the manuscripts agree in a different reading. As if they could not agree in a false reading, and as if it were not in the very nature of a conjecture that it departs from them! Sometimes the emender must hold himself back and admit that the means to a solution are lacking: nescire quaedam magna pars sapientiae est (Grotius). But to maintain that emendation generally is an idle pursuit with little chance of success would be absurd. Hundreds of conjectures have been confirmed (or at least raised to the status of variants) by the appearance of papyri or other new sources 12). Our knowledge of Greek and Latin, of the authors who wrote in Greek and Latin, their ideas, styles, metres etc., and of the processes of textual change, is not so inexact that we are helpless when our manuscripts let us down.

11. The palaeographical criterion is looked up to as an ideal by many whose understanding of palaeography is minimal, and who think that in order to make a conjecture palaeographically plausible it is only necessary to print it and the transmitted reading in capitals.

12. Some Latin examples are collected by Havet, Manuel..., pp. 17–20. He points out that in some cases the same conjecture may have suggested itself to an ancient scribe as to the modern scholar; but these cases are certainly in a minority.

59

PART II EDITING A TEXT

1. Preparation

Is your edition really necessary? That is the first question.

Sometimes a new edition may be called for simply because no

existing one is easily available to a certain sector of the public -

schoolchildren, Poles, or scholars at large. If it is not a question of

filling some such gap, a new edition can only be justified if it

represents a marked advance on its predecessors in some respect,

whether in the fullness, accuracy or clarity with which the evi-

dence for the text is presented, or in the judiciousness with which

it is used in constituting the text. The intending editor must

therefore be clear, first of all, that he is able to contribute some-

thing for which the critical world will be grateful. All too often

editions of classical authors appear that are not only no better

but distinctly worse than existing editions. Sometimes this is

due to carelessness in reporting the evidence or in correcting the

printer's proofs. The commonest cause, however, is lack of com-

petence in fundamental matters such as language, style and metre.

Metre at least is reduced to rules: one would suppose that any

editor of a verse text would make a point of mastering the rules

relevant to his work, but in fact they frequently fail to (particularly

in the more southerly countries of Europe). Nor are they greatly

abashed when their mistakes are pointed out. They seem to feel

they have merely overlooked a minor technicality, and not to

realize that there is a large body of competent scholars whose

contempt is earned by nothing more surely than by metrical

61

blunders. Since bad editors are clearly for the most part quite

unaware of their limitations, it is difficult to offer advice that is

likely to deter them. But it may be worth pointing out a common

fallacy concerning the qualifications required. For editing a text

it is not a sufficient qualification to have a long-standing interest

in it, to have written articles or books about it, in short, to be

firmly associated with it in the public's mind. Nor even to have

investigated all the manuscripts and sketched the history of the

tradition: codicology and textual criticism are very different things,

and an expert on manuscripts may produce a dismal edition.

Publishers are sometimes at fault here. Wishing to publish an

edition of such-and-such an author to fill a place in some series,

they turn to whoever is known to have busied himself with that

author – no matter how – and invite him to undertake the task.

Flattered by this compliment, and sharing the publisher's assump-

tion that his acquaintance with the text qualifies him to edit it, he

readily accedes, not stopping to reflect that this will expose his

philological weaknesses to his contemporaries and to posterity

more ruthlessly than anything else. A better policy for publishers,

when they want a good edition of something, would be to look for

someone who has done a good edition of something else, even if

he has not hitherto concerned himself with what they want1).

Collecting the material

The editor's work begins with a period of study of what has

already been achieved by others. He does not necessarily read at

this stage everything that anyone has ever written on his author, but

he works through the main editions carefully, and whatever else

has been published on the manuscripts and other sources for the

text. In the absence of a complete and up-to-date special biblio-

graphy on his author, he will derive most help from library cata-

logues and from the following:

1. Reviewers of critical editions should be chosen on the same principle.

W. Engelmann & E. Preuss, Bibliotheca Scriptorum Classicorum

corum, 8th ed. (Leipzig 1880). Covers literature from 1700 to 1878.

R. Klussmann, Bibliotheca Scriptorum Classicorum Graecorum

et Latinorum, = Bursians Jahresbericht (see below), Suppl.-Bde.

146. 151. 156. 165. Covers literature from 1878 to 1896.

S. Lambrino, Bibliographie de l'antiquité classique 1896-1914

(Paris 1951).

J. Marouzeau, Dix années de bibliographie classique: 1914–1924

(Paris 1927–8).

J. Marouzeau and others, L'Année philologique. Published regularly since 1928, covering literature from 1924 on.

(Bursians) Jahresbericht über die Fortschritte der cl. Altertumswissenschaft (Berlin & Göttingen 1875-1955); continued as

Lustrum (Göttingen, since 1957).

Gnomon (Berlin & München, since 1925): Bibliographische

Beilage several times a year.

N. I. Herescu, Bibliographie de la littérature latine (Paris 1943).

Association internationale d'études patristiques: Bulletin d'information et de liaison (Amsterdam, since 1968). Records projected editions of patristic writers.

If earlier scholars have argued for certain relationships among

the manuscripts used by them, he should check their conclusions

as far as he can from the evidence available to him. He may find

that he cannot do so without fuller evidence about those manuscripts; or he may suspect that there are other manuscripts which

have not so far been used at all. Then it is time to start doing some

collating for himself. Even if he is satisfied that all the manuscripts have been investigated and their relationships correctly

assessed, he will be well advised to make his own collations of

the important ones, for two reasons. Firstly, it is very likely that

no complete collations have been published, only selected variants,

and he will want to make his own selection from the complete

evidence. Secondly, no one ever checks anybody else's collations

(or his own, for that matter) without finding mistakes in them.

Even what appears to be a very detailed collation is liable to

63

contain amazing mis-statements; and when it comes to making

inferences from its silence, the scope for error is large indeed.

He should not be afraid of collating because he has never done

it before, or because manuscript facsimiles that he has seen strike

him at first sight as indecipherable. Reading manuscripts is some-

thing that has to be learned, but it is by no means as difficult as

it may look to the uninitiated. Becoming an expert palaeographer,

able to date and identify hands, is another matter; but the main

thing, what one cannot easily get someone else to do for one, is

to be able to read them. There is great need to extend our knowledge

of classical manuscripts. People often assume that the task of col-

lating has by and large been done, but there are many major

authors for whom dozens of manuscripts remain unread. The

sonner they are read, the better. Numerous manuscripts have been

lost since the Renaissance: how many of those that seem safe in

libraries today will still be there when another five hundred years

have passed?

Of the whole collating project, the hardest part to carry out

with complete success is probably the business of finding out

what manuscripts there are. For most of the libraries that come

into question, catalogues of manuscripts have been published in

book form or in periodicals. As far as Greek manuscripts are con-

cerned we now have an excellent guide to these catalogues in

M. Richard, Répertoire des bibliothèques et des catalogues de

manuscrits grecs, 2nd ed. (Paris 1958), with the supplement to it

published in 1964. When he has consulted as many of the cata-

logues as he can, the inquirer may be recommended to apply to

the Institut de Recherche et d'Histoire des Textes, 15 quai

Anatole-France, Paris VIIe, where he may obtain help in supple-

menting his list of manuscripts (though he must not expect them

to do all his work for him). Papyri come in a different category : here

he can get his information from R. Pack, The Greek and Latin

Literary Texts from Greco-Roman Egypt, 2nd ed. (Ann Arbor

1965), supplementing it from the papyrological bibliographies

published regularly in Aegyptus.

64

He should note down from the catalogues such information as datings, identifications of scribes, the pages on which the work that concerns him begins and ends, and the other works contained in each manuscript. This last item may be a useful hint of a manuscript's affinities, for groupings of works changed frequently in the Middle Ages and Renaissance. The investigator will not put off the question of the interrelationships of the manuscripts till he has finished collating them: he will be considering it while he collates them, forming and modifying hypotheses all the time. This will not only make the work considerably more interesting to do (which will make him more alert and accurate while doing it), it will also shorten it, as will be explained presently.

To do the collating he can either go to where the manuscript is and ask to see it (some libraries will require a letter of recommendation from an official-looking source), or obtain photographic reproductions. (In most cases writing to the library will produce the desired result; in cases of difficulty the Institut de Recherche (see above) may be of assistance.) Both methods have their advantages. By having the book in one's hands one is better able to appreciate external features of its format and to distinguish different hands that have made corrections; at a difficult place one can vary the angle of illumination as one likes, and be sure that one has as good a view of what is to be seen as it is possible to have. But occasionally things become clearer in photographs; and they have the very important advantage that one can easily refer to them again when some uncertainty arises after the first collation. Going back to the library is much more troublesome. Photographic copies may be broadly divided into full-size reproductions of various types, and microfilms. The latter are cheaper, and for most purposes perfectly adequate, but difficult to refer back to when one is away from a reading machine or projector (though it can be done with a good magnifying-glass), and for the same reason difficult to compare with one another. It is possible, however, to inscribe any requisite reference numbers on the margin of the film, using a fine pen and Indian ink.

The manuscript is compared with a printed edition word by

word, and the differences written down. Some people write them

in the margins of the edition, but even if the copy is interleaved

this does not give one room for more than a few manuscripts'

variants, and I usually use a separate notebook. It is essential in

this case to record in writing which edition has been used for

the collation, for if that is not known a collation loses much of

its value. (One must bear in mind the possibility that one's colla-

tions will one day be used by someone else, and one must there-

fore make sure that it is clear in this and in all other respects how

they are to be interpreted.) It is best to choose an edition which

is light to travel with, will always be easily available, and keeps

close to the paradosis (to minimize the amount of writing neces-

sary); and to use the same one for each collation. Every effort

should be made to prevent confusion between the collations of

different manuscripts. If they are done into the printed copy, the

best thing is to use different coloured inks 2); in a notebook, the

manuscript should be identified at the top of every page. Care

must also be taken to avoid ambiguity about the location of the

variant. In prose texts the lines should be numbered down each

printed page and the numbers used for reference. If the variant

is for a word that comes twice in the same line, or might be read

as being for either of two similar words, it must be made clear

which one is in question.

If it is decided not to record certain orthographical trivialities

(e.g., in Greek, aspiration, or the presence or absence of ϲ sub-

script or movable ν), the fact should be stated. However, it is

advisable to record orthographical variants fairly systematically,

at least for portions of the text, for they can be of use (though not

by themselves) in working out the details of a stemma, and they

are not uninstructive in themselves. Corrections and marginal or

interlinear variants should be carefully recorded, with notes of

whether they are due to the original scribe or in another hand.

2. Collations should always be in ink. If washable ink is used, beware of rain.

66

When collating in situ a manuscript that may be of some importance,

it is a good idea to note the point in the text at which each page

begins, for two reasons: one might then notice e.g. that an omis-

sion in another manuscript corresponded exactly to an opening

of this one (which might confirm indications that it was derived

from it); and if it is subsequently necessary to check the reading

in a certain passage, it is easy to order a photograph of the right

page.

It is useful to determine the manuscript's affinities if possible

before actually collating it. If they are not already known before

it is seen, they can often be quickly discovered with the help of

select lists of readings peculiar to the different manuscripts and

families. One or two such readings will prove nothing, but if (say)

ten passages from different parts of the text are looked up and

found to have the variants peculiar to a known branch of the tra-

dition, it will be certain that a significant affinity has been found;

further comparisons will then reveal its nature more precisely.

If the manuscript is closely related to another that has already

been collated, its own collation can be done more quickly and also

more accurately by relating it to the other. One can write at the

start “Where the line-number alone is given, the reading is the

same as in Q”, or “Has the same readings as Q except in the fol-

lowing places”3). But it is wise to tick or underline the readings

in the collation of Q at the same time, as a precaution against later

doubts. This forces one to look specifically for each Q variant,

and it sometimes arouses suspicions – afterwards confirmed –

that something in Q has been overlooked.

Should the manuscript turn out to be the exemplar from which

Q is derived, it will only be necessary (except in isolated places)

to underline those readings in the Q collation which it contains.

Conversely, if it turns out to be an apograph, it will only be

3. If the relationship is known in advance, it is a great convenience to have the

two collations drawn up in parallel columns. The first will need to be wider than

the second.

67

necessary to note its additional errors and corrections. There will

be little point in making a complete collation of an apograph;

there is some point, however, in collating a portion of the text,

to help determine its relationship to any other apographa that may

be discovered. The same applies to manuscripts deemed unworthy

of full collation for any other reason. The length of the text may

make it advisable to investigate the whole tradition in the first

instance on the basis of sample portions. If so, the portions to be

studied should be taken both from near the beginning and from

near the end, because it is not uncommon for a manuscript’s

allegiances to change in the course of a work.

So far I have been speaking only of the direct tradition. Ancillary

sources too may call for research. An epitome or a translation

has its own manuscript tradition. If the quotations have not been

systematically collected, that may be something else with which

progress can be made, by reading through the likely authors

or consulting indexes to them. If they have been collected, it will

still be necessary to look them up in the most up-to-date editions

of the quoting authors, to verify the references and to see exactly

what the textual evidence from that source is. Where such editions

are suspected of being unreliable or founded on an inadequate

basis, it may be worth the trouble to consult manuscripts of the

authors.

Digestion

The processes of analysing the relationships of the various sources

and evaluating the variant readings and conjectures have been

described in earlier chapters. The editor is now at the stage when

he can perform these operations in a more definitive manner. He

is by now very familiar with his author, and it is desirable that he

should be not much less familiar with any other authors who are

particularly relevant because they are imitated by his author, or

imitate him, or write in the same manner or on the same subjects.

He completes, as far as possible, his reading of other scholars’

68

interpretations of the text and discussions of its difficulties. (In the

case of major authors this is frankly impossible, the quantity of the

secondary literature is too great. But one must do what one can,

and try to pick out the grains from the chaff.) And then, in days

of unhurried contemplation, preferably assisted by a word index

or concordance, he decides what he is going to print in his text.

This involves more than just deciding which are the true read-

ings and which problems must be left unsettled. Careful thought

should be given to punctuation, which can be a great help or

hindrance to following the author's train of ideas, and which is

of course entirely a matter for the editor's discretion. Then there

is the question of orthography. As a general rule it would seem

most rational to impose consistently the spelling that the original

author is most likely to have used (for which the manuscript

tradition may not be the best evidence). It is true that he himself

may have been inconsistent, and it may be argued that the best

manuscript authority should be followed on each occasion. But

this will be no reliable guide to his practice; we shall surely come

nearer the truth by regularizing the spelling than by committing

ourselves to the vagaries of the tradition.

The general rule, however, is subject to qualifications. No one

would welcome an edition of Aeschylus in which the Choephori began

Ἑρμῆ χθόνιε, πατρώι᾿ ἐπόπτευε χράτε,

σοοτὲρ γενόμοι χσύμμαχός τ᾿ αἰτομένοις,

and for early Greek generally one will use the standardized Ionic

alphabet, although this sometimes means using different spellings

for sounds that were originally written the same, and the same

spelling for sounds that were originally written differently. In

Latin there is not the problem of different alphabetic systems, but

notions of the correct way to spell things were more fluid until

the first century of the Empire, and here again (though with less

justification) the convention has been established of presenting

authors at least of the late Republic in the orthography of a some-

69

what later period. Late or vulgar texts raise other difficulties: it

is often impossible to distinguish between the barbarisms of

copyists and those of the original. In this situation, rather than

impose a consistent system which can only be chosen rather

arbitrarily, it is better to follow the paradosis, not under the

delusion that it is at all reliable, but as the most convenient way

of exhibiting it.

An associated problem that may face the editor is that of deciding

what exactly it is that he is trying to constitute. A book transmitted

to us may represent a re-working or rearrangement of older

material, or the end product of several re-workings, and the

editor must be clear which phase of its history he is restoring.

Convention is inconsistent. Editors of Greek tragedies are agreed

in trying to purge the texts of actors’ interpolations, whereas

editors of Homer do not normally mark as spurious passages of

clearly secondary origin such as the Doloneia. The standard

edition of Stobaeus rightly aims to show each passage not as its

author wrote it but in the form in which the anthologist received

it. Editors of the Palatine Anthology do not try to restore the

arrangement of the older anthologies from which it depends. On

the other hand they try to print the original text of each epigram,

not the tenth-century text. These choices are sensible. They may

be said to be based on the two principles of seeking the useful

and not attempting the impossible.

In the case of a work that survives in more than one recension,

the editor must either give each recension separately or choose

one as a representative. He must not conflate them into a hybrid

version which never existed (though he may use one to correct

copyists’ errors in another).

The use of computers

The possibility of using computers to help the editor in some of

his labours has been discussed by Dom J. Froger, La Critique des

textes et son automatisation (Paris 1968), chapter 5. It appears

70

that the time has not yet come when manuscripts can be collated

automatically; machines have not yet been devised which can

cope with the variations inherent in handwriting. If provided

with suitably prepared transcriptions of the manuscripts, purged

of coincidental errors, a computer could draw up a clumsy and

unselective critical apparatus; and it could in principle - where

there was no contamination! - work out an 'unoriented' stemma.

That means, supposing that six manuscripts were related as shown

on p. 32, that it could work out a scheme

simply by comparing the variants, without regard to whether they

were right or wrong; but this scheme would be capable of suspen-

sion from any point, e. g.

71

The correct orientation could only be determined by evaluating

the quality of the variants, which no machine is capable of doing.

Since only a minority of textual traditions are closed, and these

easily analysed by ordinary human wit, the very considerable

trouble involved in submitting them to a computer does not appear

worth while. At present, it seems, computers can serve us best by

making concordances and the more unsubtle kinds of metrical

analysis4).

2. Presentation

Prefatory material

It is the editor who is mainly responsible for the layout of his

book, and he should take pains to arrange it as conveniently as

possible for the reader - not only the reader who works through

it from cover to cover, but also the one who only needs to consult

it briefly, who is not deeply familiar with the text and its trans-

mission, and wants to extract information quickly and easily.

Wishing to know what construction to put on what he finds

in the critical apparatus, such a reader is likely to turn to the

introduction, which should be so set out, with section- and page-

headings, that he finds at once where the sources for the text

are discussed. He may want to see what is said about a particular

manuscript, and he should be guided to the place by some signpost:

a separate paragraph-heading, bold type in the text, or, best of

all, the siglum printed in the margin. He should then find the es-

sential information; he is most likely to be interested in the date

and general character of the manuscript, and its affinities. If it is

found more convenient to discuss affinities after the account of

the individual manuscripts, this too should be clearly signposted.

1. On the use of computers in questions of style and authorship see K. J. Dover,

Lysias and the Corpus Lysiacum (Berkeley & Los Angeles 1968), chapter VI;

B. Fischer, Journal of Theological Studies, n. s. 21, 1970, 297–304.

72

If the conclusions of the discussion can be shown in the form of

a stemma, a stemma should be printed; nothing makes them easier

to locate or to comprehend. Quotations may not need to be dis-

cussed in the introduction, but sections should be devoted to

sources such as scholia, epitomes, and translations. If the intro-

duction is long, a list of contents is useful.

If a bibliography is provided, it should aim above all to inform

the reader about the work of those editors and other scholars

whose contribution is significant enough to have earned them a

place in the critical apparatus. Ideally, whenever the reader finds

a scholar named in the apparatus as having proposed an emen-

dation or defended the paradosis, he should have the means to

identify the relevant publication, so that if he wishes he can con-

sult it and read the scholar's own argument. (In practice the editor

must sometimes cite conjectures, mentioned by a previous editor,

whose provenance he is unable to discover.) Publications that are

only occasionally of importance can be specified in the apparatus

itself;1) those to which more constant reference is made are better

listed separately. Editions are usually listed in chronological order,

but other works should be arranged in alphabetical order of

authors. If several books or articles by the same scholar are to be

recorded, it is a good idea to number them, and the reference in

the apparatus can then take the concise form ‘Meyer3’ or ‘Meyer3

p. 268’.

Immediately before the text2) the list of manuscript sigla should

be found, together with the explanation of any other unusual

symbols or abbreviations used in the text or apparatus. It is a

convenience if the manuscripts' dates are mentioned again here

as well as their identities, and also their groupings, the limits of

their content (if they do not contain the whole text), and page-

1. The abbreviations ‘l. c.’, ‘op. cit.’ are to be avoided unless the work has been

named immediately before.

2. ‘The text’ here includes ancient prefatory matter, Hypotheses, lists of characters

etc.

73

references to the discussions of them in the introduction. For an

example see Bethe’s edition of Pollux, where however two criti-

cisms can be made: the list could be clearer typographically, and

it should have been printed in both volumes of text.

Choice of sigla

Manuscript sigla in current use should not be changed unless

there is something particularly confusing about them (for instance,

if the same manuscript has been given different sigla in different

works of the same author). Where new sigla are necessary, the

following principles can be observed with advantage.

1. For individual extant manuscripts, and only for these, use capital

letters of the Latin alphabet. If there are not enough letters

(though there should be, if the tradition has been analysed

properly), one may resort to Greek capitals, or to e.g. Aa, Ab,

or A1A2; it is best to avoid superior figures (A1A2), because

they are commonly used for distinguishing hands in the same

manuscript. In editions of Latin authors it is advisable to distin-

guish the siglum visually from the adjacent variant; this can

be done by printing it in bold type, but a better typographical

effect is obtained by using italic capitals. In Greek apparatuses

either upright or sloping capitals can be used, only not both: to

use A and A to mean different things would be to guarantee

confusion and error. Letters with a mnemonic value should be

chosen where possible, e.g. M = Monacensis; A = the most

notable manuscript; T = Triclinius’ copy. It is not necessary to

assign sigla to manuscripts that are only cited in a few places.

2. Fragments of ancient copies, whether papyrus, parchment or

ostracon, are often given sigla like Π, Π6, Π 25, ℘41, which

conveniently draw attention to their antiquity. The use of

superior figures here is familiar enough to be acceptable, in

spite of what is said above, and aesthetically it is preferable to

full-size figures. It has the disadvantage, though, that other

74

qualifications such as 'ac', 'γρ' (see below, p. 93) cannot very

satisfactorily be appended at the superior level.

3. For manuscript families or reconstructed hyparchetypes3), use

lower-case Greek or Latin letters. It is best to use Greek letters

in editions of Latin texts and vice versa. If Greek ones are used

in Greek texts, they should be set from a different type fount

from that used for the variants themselves (as in Pfeiffer's

apparatus to Callimachus' Hymns). Latin letters should be in

italic, or, if not, bold.

The symbol o or ω or Ω is often used to mean 'all the manu-

scripts'; this is better avoided, however, if other letters of the same

fount are being used for other purposes. The symbol =(originally

standing for 'Stephanus') is often used, especially in Latin edi-

tions, to mean 'one or more late manuscripts'.

4. Any sources of a different order should be represented by

symbols or abbreviations of a different order. Thus the use of

S for the Suda in the Budé Aristophanes is not very satisfactory

beside R, V, etc.; Su would have been better. Σ is often used for

'scholia'.

The body of the edition: general layout

The text will occupy the upper part of the page. Where it is recon-

structed from excerpts given by different sources, or where dif-

ferent recensions or versions in different languages have to be

presented, they are in most cases most clearly exhibited in parallel

columns or on facing pages. (Examples: W. H. Roscher, Die

Hippokratische Schrift von der Siebenzahl; H. Diels, Doxographi

Graeci; Damascus, Vita Isidori, ed. Zintzen.) Where this is

unsuitable, they should be printed consecutively for each indepen-

dent block of text, as e.g. in Hausrath's edition of the Aesopic

Fables, where three recensions are printed, the page is not divided

3. The editor should make it clear which he means: whether a means 'A, B, C

and D' or 'the exemplar from which ABCD are derived'. It makes a difference.

into three columns or horizontal layers, but each fable is given

first in one version, then in the second, then in the third. With a

more continuous text such as the Life of Aesop, it is better to

print the recensions as separate wholes (as in Perry’s Aesopica)

than to interlace them chapter by chapter.

Below the text on each page will follow, in this order: any

registers other than the critical apparatus (testimonia, etc., see

below); the critical apparatus; and commentary or translation if

these are to appear on the same page as the text. (The best place for

a translation, however, is facing the text. As for a commentary,

although there is clearly some advantage in having text and note

on the same page, there is still greater inconvenience if the effect

is to reduce the amount of text on each page to a few lines. If the

bulk of the edition justifies printing the commentary in a separate

volume, that is the handiest arrangement.)

With editions of fragments an alternative layout is possible,

with the apparatus to each fragment following it immediately,

before the text of the next fragment. (Example: D. L. Page, Poetae

Melici Graeci.) This is quite unobjectionable so long as the frag-

ments are short, but if they run over the page, and even more if

they run over two pages, it becomes inconvenient, and the editor

would be better advised to follow the normal arrangement, al-

though it means a more complicated job for the printer.

The margins will be used for numeration. Sometimes they are

also convenient for indications of manuscript attestation (below,

p. 83), or of the sources of a compilatory work such as the Suda

(see Adler’s edition). The heading at the top of the page should

be informative. If the volume contains more than one author or

work, the reader must be able to see at once from the page-heading

which one he has opened at. If a work is divided up in units that

are liable to exceed a page in length - books, long chapters or

fragments, groupings by subject or metre, years (in annalistic

historians) - he again needs help from the page-heading. The

left- and right-hand pages can be used to give different grades of

information, and in addition section-numbers can be presented

76

as a ‘shoulder head’ at the inner corner. Here is an example from

the OCT Hesiod, pp. 126–7:

(left-hand page)

ΓYNAIKΩN KATAΛOΓOΣ sive HOIAI

(title of poem)

[28–30

(right-hand page)

30–31] AEOLIDAE

(fragment numbers)

(section)

The pages should be numbered.

Text

Both prose and verse should be printed in numbered lines. In

verse texts the numbering will be continuous from the beginning

of the poem, book or fragment; in prose texts it should start

afresh at the top of each page and run to the bottom, except where

the pages and lineation of an older edition have become established

as the means of reference (as in Plato and Aristotle). Experience

has shown that this is the most convenient way of correlating

text and apparatus. The numbering should be by fives4). In the

case of verse texts it will be the main means of reference, and

it is best printed on the outer margins (i.e. to the left of the text

on the left-hand page and to the right on the right), or else to the

left of the text throughout (where there will be no interference

from long lines; the numbers will be a constant distance from

the verbiage). If an alternative numeration is to be printed too

– which should only be done if it enjoys some currency – it should

be in brackets or in distinctly smaller type. In prose texts the linea-

4. It is sometimes claimed that numbering every third or fourth line, instead of

every fifth, makes it easier to find a reference. I disagree, believing that it is quicker

to find one’s way from the simple stake-points 60 65 70 75 80 than from the

more complex series 60 63 66 69 72 75 78 81 or 60 64 68 72 76 80. One does not

need to think so hard about the individual numbers.

For the case where the accepted numeration reflects an obsolete colometry, see

Barrett, Euripides: Hippolytos, p. 94.

77

tion will normally not be the common means of reference, and it

will go on the inner margins, unless the outer ones are fairly free

of other numbers. The more prominent position and type will be

reserved for the conventional chapter- and section-numbers.

Numbers should not have to be sought in the middle of a line;

even if a new section begins there, the number should be in the

margin. (The exact point of transition can be marked with a divider

if there is any ambiguity.) Arabic numerals should always be pre-

ferred to Roman or Greek, except in the numbering of books (or

of columns, in papyrus texts); where Greek numerals are tradi-

tional for that purpose, they should be accompanied by their

Roman or Arabic equivalents. Care should be taken that numerals

of different orders of significance are well distinguished typo-

graphically. Where it is necessary to note the pagination of an

older edition as well as chapters and sections, it is helpful to add

an initial; e. g. in K. Nickau's edition of 'Ammonius', '44 Va.' in

the margin explains itself at once, whereas the figure by itself

would have left one unsure and made one look somewhere else for

clarification.

Established numerations should be retained as far as possible.

If the editor decides that the usual division of paragraphs is

unsatisfactory, he can change it without moving the numbers. If

his study of the manuscripts has resulted in the discovery of addi-

tional sections or verses, he should give them numbers like '53a'

which do not disturb the rest of the series. Snell's editions of

Pindar's fragments give an illustration of how an inherited

numeration can sometimes be adapted to accommodate new dis-

coveries. It must be admitted that new numerations are sometimes

necessary, but all too often they are made for frivolous reasons.

The editor should ask himself whether a new numeration is really

going to be convenient for the user, bearing in mind that he will

continue to encounter references to the older system. If it is, it

should be made as simple as possible.

Literary quotations and allusions in the text, including self-

quotations ('as I have written elsewhere'), should be identified.

78

The references can be given in one of the registers below the text, or, perhaps more conveniently if the quotations are short and not too numerous, between brackets in the text itself. The same applies to dates given by an ancient author in Olympiads etc., which should be furnished with the equivalent in our reckoning.

Quotations should be presented in the form in which the quoting author gave them, so far as this can be determined, not adjusted to what we believe the quoted author wrote. Verse quotations should be printed as verse, unless the quoting author has destroyed the metre. Otherwise quotations should be distinguished as such, insofar as they are verbatim, by inverted commas or spaced type. Spaced type is particularly suitable for picking out verbatim elements in a loose paraphrase: see, for an example, Plato Protagoras 339–346 in the OCT edition.

Inverted commas (double ones in Greek texts) should also be used for speeches, except in those texts which, like drama, consist wholly of dialogue with no narrative framework. Here their place is taken by abbreviated speakers’ names. These are normally put at the beginning of the line, but when there is a change of speaker within a verse one may adopt either of the following arrangements:

(a) Σω. φέρε νυν ἀθρήσω πρῶτον ὅτι δρᾷ τουτονί.

οὔτος, καθεύδεις;

Στ.

μά τὸν ’Απόλλω ’γὼ μὲν οὔ.

Σω. ἔχεις τί;

Στ.

μά Δί’ οὔ δῆτ’ ἔγωγ’.

Σω.

οὐδὲν πά́νυ;

(b) (Σω.) φέρε νυν ἀθρήσω πρῶτον ὅτι δρᾷ τουτονί.

οὔτος, καθεύδεις; (Στ.) μά τὸν ’Απόλλω ’γὼ μὲν οὔ.

(Σω.) ἔχεις τί; (Στ.) μά Δί’ οὔ δῆτ’ ἔγωγ’. (Σω.) οὐδὲν πά́νυ;

The second may lead to lines so long that the printer has to break them anyway (which should be done at a change of speaker), but it saves space and makes line-references easy to find.

79

The following critical symbols have a place in the text. (They can of course also be used in the critical apparatus as convenient.)

( ) Besides being used for ordinary parentheses, round brackets are used for the expansion of abbreviations, e.g. M(arcus) Cicero s(alutem) d(ixit) Ser(uio) Sulpicio.

< > Angle brackets enclose letters, words or passages added to the transmitted text by conjecture or from a parallel source. They can also be used with a blank space or *** or metrical symbols between them, to indicate the editor’s belief that something has been omitted in the course of transmission (or the asterisks can be used alone). They should not be used to mark letters which an emender has substituted for something else; thus qui should signify that the transmitted reading is qui, and where quia is an emendation of quid it should be printed without brackets5).

[ ] Square brackets have commonly been used for editorial deletions. But among papyrologists and epigraphists it is now firmly established practice to use them to mark off parts of the text lost through physical damage to the extant source; and since in practice no sharp line can be drawn between texts edited from papyri and other texts, it is highly desirable that square brackets be reserved for that purpose. When the number of letters missing can be estimated, it is indicated by the corresponding number of dots below the level of the line, [. . . ]6), or by a figure, [-16-]. When it cannot be estimated, print [--] or [***], or, if the distance between the brackets indicates the size of the gap, [ ].

{ } Braces replace square brackets as the sign of editorial deletion. They can be used in combination with angle brackets to show that a transposition has been made, e.g. οὐ<χ ὅτι> τοῖς παρανομοῦσιν ἐπετιμήσατε {ὅτι} τὴν δίκην, but as this involves printing the transposed element twice it soon becomes cumbersome.

5. In some editions it would be printed quia. This rather ugly practice is now outmoded.

6. Grouping these dots in fives makes them easier to count; see e.g. Merkelbach-West, Fragmenta Hesiodea. Metrical symbols can be printed above the dots.

80

some if more than a word or short phrase is in question. Trans-

positions of verses should be shown simply by the line-numbers,

as e.g. in the OCT Hesiod, pp. 5, 14, 23, 31. (Transposed lines

should never be renumbered.)

〚 〛 Double brackets enclose letters or words that a scribe has

deleted in the manuscript itself. If such letters can no longer be

read, use dots as above, 〚. . .〛. The symbol |||, repeated for each

letter, is also used for successful erasures.

' These signs are used by papyrologists to enclose insertions

by a scribe after he has made his original line. One could represent

a scribal alteration of δε to τε by 〚δ〛'τ'ε, but it is more elegant to

print simply τε and note in the apparatus ‘δε ante corr.’; if the

reader fails to consult the apparatus, that is his fault.

⌊ ⌋ Half brackets are a logical modification of full square

brackets. In papyrus texts they indicate that the papyrus itself is

broken or worn away but that the supplement is supplied by

another source and is not conjectural. In other texts, by extension,

they can be used to show the absence of a particular source,

whether because it is damaged or because it has a shortened ver-

sion of the text. They might well be used, for instance, in a text of

Nonnus’ Dionysiaca to show which letters are preserved in the

Berlin papyrus, or in one of Athenaeus to show how much is

attested by the epitome. Complications, arise, however, if there is

more than one of these intermittent sources. ⌜ ⌝ can be used for

a second one, and Bethe’s Pollux shows how more elaborate in-

formation can be conveyed; but it may be wondered whether such

feats of typography are often worth while, especially when they

endanger the legibility of the text.

† † Obeli mark words which the editor judges to be corrupt.

If only one word is suspect, only one obelus is needed: subsidiis

magnis †epicuri constantias. If the editor cannot limit the corrup-

tion to one word, he places his two obeli so as to define the area

within which it is to be sought: declinare quis est qui †possit cernere

seset†.

αβγ Dots under letters indicate that they are uncertainly deci-

81

phered7). They are mainly used for papyri and inscriptions, but

there is no reason not to use them generally. They are not easily

combined with subscript iotas, so adscript iotas should be used

in texts where dotted letters are needed.

The use of metrical signs to guide the reader where there may

be ambiguity is not to be scorned. Snell's editions of Pindar and

Bacchylides are a model in this respect. Besides giving the metrical

scheme at the beginning of each song, he helps us to read without

constantly consulting it, by printing e.g. τειγέων, τ εἱλπν,

ποvτόμεδov ἐvθύν, ἀπὸ ῥίζας, παιάνιζαν8). Some editors of Plautus

and Terence print ictus-marks, and they might well go further

in signalling unclassical prosody9).

Between the text and the apparatus

There are some kinds of information that are best presented in

a separate register or registers above the critical apparatus.

Scholia, in those cases where they are sparse enough to be con-

veniently printed with the text, should go immediately below it.

Then the sources for the text should be specified insofar as they

are variable. If different manuscripts are available for different

parts of the work, different poems in a collection, etc., the details

should be shown on each page in whatever is the most suitable

form for the circumstances.

Here are a few examples.

7. When the trace cannot be identified at all and the space above the dot is blank,

one should insist on the dot remaining below the level of the line, to distinguish

it from a full stop.

8. His use in the fragments of the symbol (corresponding to the ancient coronis)

to mark the beginning or end of a song is also commendable.

9. Why should we not, indeed, revive for classical Latin texts the apex (') with

which the Romans themselves, for about three centuries from the age of Sulla,

found it convenient to mark long vowels? We would not use it for every long

vowel (nor did they), but it would be very useful for forms like ablative naturā,

accusative plural ciuis, and for advertizing hidden quantities in such words as uōx,

dixit.

82

(Pindar, ed. Snell) V, BEFGH = v; EFGH = β, GH = γ. Printed in the critical apparatus at the beginning of the ode. The value of the collective symbols v β γ and the separate status of V are conveyed to save the reader turning to the prefatory pages.

(Eur. Hipp., ed. Barrett) codd.: (446–59 K) MBOA V (469—74 H) CDE L. Printed above the apparatus page by page. HK are available for the passages stated, the rest for the whole page. The manuscript groupings are indicated by spacing.

(Menandri Sententiae, ed. Jäkel) 864 K || 865 εΓ || 866 δ || 867 εΓ || 868 K || 869–870 U || 871 υΓ || 872 υΓ || 873‘875 Γ || 876‘877 υ.

(Ammonius, ed. Nickau) 1‘8 om. ρ || 9–12 om. Mρ || 13–14 om. ρ || 15–17 om. Mπ.

(Petronius, ed. Bücheler) L, LO, etc., printed in the margin of the text at the top of each page and whenever the attestation changes. This is a satisfactory alternative to the position below the text provided that only a small number of sources have to be named. Drachmann uses it in his edition of the scholia to Pindar; it is more usual in editions of scholia to specify the manuscripts at the end of each scholium or alternative version thereof, as in Schwartz’s edition of the Euripides scholia. See p. 98.

Quotations by later writers should be specified, and allusions or imitations at least where they provide evidence of the text read. Allusions etc. should be distinguished by ‘cf.’ or ‘respicit’, ‘imit.’. If one of the writers mentioned is dependent upon another, this should be remarked (see e.g. Pfeiffer at Callim. Hymn. 3,180).

Some editors give not only the reference but an extract from the context in which the quotation appears (e.g. Rzach in his big edition of Hesiod), and this is often a help in assessing its value for the text. But it is also possible to indicate the reason for the quotation, where it matters, much more briefly. Here, for example, is a testimonium on Pindar Ol. 2,45 (τιμομενος, ‘αδραστιδαν θάλος αρωγον δσμοις) in the full and in a shorter form.

(a) 45 Et. Gen. 47,7 Cal. = Magn. 18,48 ‘αδραστειδωνην “αδραστος κύριος, ‘αδραστιδων καπ πλεονασμοϻ τοϻ ε ‘αδρα-στειδων, οςον “‘αδραστειδων θάλος””.

83

(b) 45 'Aδρoσtεíδωv (-εí- disertim) θáλoς Et. Gen. 47,7 Cal. = Magn. 18,48.

However, as the reader's attention will have to be drawn to the unmetrical variant in the apparatus if at all, all that is really necessary is: 45 'Aδ. θ. Et. Gen. 47,7 Cal. = Magn. 18,48. In the apparatus he will find something like: 45 ἀδρoσtεíd- codd., Etym. disertim: corr. Trick.

It sometimes happens that a piece of text extending over several pages is copied out by a later writer. It is helpful to the reader in such a case to give the appropriate reference on each new page.

The same applies to the converse situation, where the author being edited has copied out a long passage from an earlier writer (who thereby becomes relevant to the constitution of the text in the same way as a quoter); and similarly where he has reproduced the substance of such a passage in his own words, and again where he and another writer are evidently following the same lost source 10).

Such parallel texts should be distinguished from direct quotations by 'cf.', at least if there is any danger of ambiguity: in some authors there will not be.

The decision whether to print the references to sources, parallels, imitations and quotations in separate registers must likewise be governed by the particular case.

Rzach's big Hesiod is a successful example of elaboration, with its four separate registers below the text: Homeri loci similes, Poetarum (ceterorum) imitationes et loci similes, Testes (i.e. quotations and allusions), Varia lectio.

By contrast, Maass's Aratus shows how sources, parallels and testimonia can all be noted in the same register without unclarity, with the help of the sign ǒ and 'cf.' Some editors go further and incorporate them in the critical apparatus, to the detriment of its perspicuity; this procedure cannot be recommended.

Before discussing the particular problems of the critical apparatus, I should deal with certain aspects of layout which are common

10. For an example of the technique see Mras's edition of Eusebius, Praeparatio evangelica.

84

to it and the other registers. Reference to the text is made by speci-

fying the line of verse, or in prose texts the line of the page (except

in cases like Plato)11). If several items refer to the same line, the

numeral is not repeated. Sometimes further precision is called for.

Suppose a quotation only covers part of a line; then one must put:

636 (-ἱκελοὶ) Et. M. s. v. Ὀδύδδεὺς (meaning line 636 as far as ἱκελοὶ);

554 (πολ.) - 555 (πόδ.) Et. M. s. v. τέγγω. In the critical apparatus

the information to be conveyed will usually be sufficient for the

identification of the word or phrase in question; where it is not,

brackets may again be used, e.g. 1096 (δὲ) τὲ L, or a colon, 1096

δὲ: τὲ L. A square bracket has most often been used for this pur-

pose, 1096 δὲ] τὲ L, but as it is sometimes necessary to use square

brackets for reporting readings from papyri and other damaged

manuscripts, it may be better to avoid that. If δὲ occurs twice in

the same line, one must be sure to make clear which is meant:

1096 δὲ prius; or (δὲ I).

Separate, non-overlapping items are parted from each other by

a broad space (as in the OCT series) or by the divider-sign || (as

in the Budé series; similarly in modern Teubner editions except

that a single vertical stroke is used between entries relating to

the same line). Spaces have the theoretical drawback that they

disappear when the second item begins at the beginning of a line

of type, though in practice confusion seldom arises, and can be

avoided by care at the proof-reading stage. Overlapping items in

the critical apparatus should be treated in the same way, where

the points at issue are unconnected (e.g. 717 πάντας γνώμην ταύτην

codd.: ταύτην γνώμην πάντας Stob. ταύτη Bergk); overlapping

items in the quotations-register are perhaps better linked, e.g.

371–2 + 374 sch. Pind. O. 7,72; (-γένατο) Ammon. s. v. ἡμέρα,

Eust. in Hom. 1527,57; 371–2 (-'Hῶ θ') sch. Eur. Tro. 855;

11. The line-number is often printed in bold type, but it stands out perfectly well

in ordinary type, as users of the OCT volumes can see. When the numbers run

in more than one series, the series-number must be in bold and the line-number

in light face; see the OCT editions of Hesiod (fragments), Plato, Aristotle.

85

371 + 374 sch. Pind. I. 5,1; (-γείνατο) sch. Eur. Ph. 175; 371 sch. A. R. 4,54.

Items in the apparatus that are physically separate in their re-

ference but interdependent should normally be brought together,

e.g. Soph. Tr. 1021-2 ὀδυvãν . . . βίoτov Musgrave: ὀδύvαν . . . βίοτov

codd., rather than 1021 ὀδυvãν Musgrave: ὀδύvαν codd. 1022

βίοτov Musgrave: βίoτov codd.

The critical apparatus

Critical apparatuses have more than one use. The most essential

one is to inform the reader which parts of the printed text depend

on emendation and which parts are subject to uncertainty. But

apparatuses are also what most people depend on for instruction

about the character of particular manuscripts and scribes, and of

manuscripts and scribes generally. Unfortunately, the more fully

an apparatus caters for the latter need, the less handy it is for the

former; the important variants have to be discerned amid crowds

of unimportant ones12). The editor must decide what principle

he is going to follow, and select his material accordingly.

A few basic rules can be laid down:

1. The readings of apographa and other manuscripts which seem

to contain nothing of independent value should be omitted,

except where the exemplar is illegible or where an interesting

emendation is involved.

2. Variants of a merely orthographical nature should be omitted

unless they represent real alternatives (oixñσαι : oixíσαι), or

unless manuscript evidence is relevant to the choice.

3. Worthless conjectures should be passed over in silence; more

precisely, conjectures which are not only unacceptable but also

12. A device sometimes employed is to relegate the less important ones to an

appendix; see e.g. Kenney's OCT edition of Ovid's Amores etc. One might also

pick out the main ones in larger or heavier type.

86

fail to suggest a new and plausible line of approach to the

problem13).

4. Anything from any source (including scholarly conjecture)

that may either be or point towards the true reading should be

reported.

The apparatus should be in Latin, which has proved itself the

most convenient for the purpose (except for papyri and inscrip-

tions, see p. 94). Names of scholars and periodicals should not

be latinized. In editions of Latin authors italic type is used except

for the variants themselves, the line-numbers and the punctuation.

The material is arranged on the following principles. Each entry

begins with a specification of the place in the text which is in

question, unless it is the same as for the preceding entry (see above,

p. 85). The reader is already given one reading by the text itself.

If it is not a conjecture, he can usually infer which sources attest it

by elimination of those quoted for other readings, so it is not

necessary to mention it in the apparatus (so long as it is clear which

word or words the entry refers to)14). If it is included, it should

be put first, unless it is represented by the formula ‘corr. Haupt’

(which has its place after the transmitted reading(s) and before

any further conjectures that are to be mentioned). Alternative

readings follow, in this order of precedence: direct manuscript

tradition; indirect tradition (testimonia etc.); conjectures in order

of merit. The editor ought to have a regular order to name the

manuscripts in15), but he should depart from it whenever the

13. Conjectures that have been confirmed e.g. by a papyrus deserve to be recorded

as such, for the honour of their authors and as evidence that emendation is a worth-

while endeavour.

14. An apparatus which regularly leaves the reading of the text to be understood

is called ‘negative’. There is no need for the editor to make a firm decision between

the positive and negative apparatus; different treatments may be convenient in

different places. A negative entry rather suggests an aberration, and I would

recommend using a positive one where the rejected variant is well attested or

judged worthy of consideration as a serious alternative.

15. He will naturally group cognate ones together.

87

logical connexion between variants is better brought out by a

different ordering. Similarly he may find reason to couple a

quotation-variant with one of the manuscript readings, or to

place two conjectures together irrespective of the order of merit.

The variants and conjectures presented ought properly to fit

the same hole in the text. Thus the variants at Ar. Ach. 121 men-

tioned on p. 52 must not be presented like this:

121 ἡμῖν ἥλθεν R Suda: ἥλθεν ἡμῖν A : ἥλθεν ἡμῖν Γ

That implies falsely that ἡμῖν is omitted by A. “ἡμῖν ἥλθεν A”

should have been written. However, strict adherence to this rule

would sometimes involve excessive repetition, and I confess that

I sometimes break it if I think there is no possibility of confusion,

particularly when reporting conjectures, as at Archil. 122,4.

(λάμποντος λυγρὸν) λαμπρὸν, τοσούτῳ Mähly: ὑγρὸν Valckenaer:

ὠχρὸν Bentley, etc. Minor variations on a reading can be given in

brackets:

Δημῶναξ σοι δὲ Bergk (σοὶ Welcker, εἰ Boissonade): δημῶναξιόδε

A etc.

Or, if they are of similar status, they can be separated by a mere

comma instead of the colon which normally separates alternative

readings and expresses their opposition to each other16). Thus

τ’ A, θ’ B : δ’ C

indicates that the choice is really between two alternatives (τε or

δέ), not three. In a negative entry, where the choice is not really

between the readings in the apparatus at all, it might be better to

avoid colons and to use commas or semicolons.

16. There is some variety of usage on this matter. Modern Teubner editions do

not use colons; the Budé series uses them only after the first reading, the one in

the text; similarly the Corpus Paravianum, but with commas after the second

and subsequent readings, thus:

539 Metanira Heinsius: melanira U, metania IG1, menalia AΘ, menalca D etc.

The question is not important, but the system that I recommend is the most

flexible and expressive.

88

A transmitted reading should be quoted in the form in which

it appears in the source, obviously. But this rule too is subject to

qualifications. It is not necessary or customary to print the readings

of pre-minuscule manuscripts in capitals. (Ziegler’s edition of

Cicero, De re publica, however, reproduces the uncial script of

the Vatican palimpsest to pleasing effect. This kind of fidelity is

particularly helpful when corrupt Greek appears in a Latin text,

cf. p. 27) One will write “ἮβηΠ18 codd.” even though the

papyrus has no accent or breathing; if its reading is being given

by itself, on the other hand, one might as well be exact and write

“ἦβηΠ18”. Abbreviations in manuscripts need not be reproduced

unless they are ambiguous or help to explain the origin of another

variant. Sometimes there is good reason for the editor to make

an abbreviation of his own: in reporting variations of word order,

aequo animo ferre nemo T: nemo ae. an. f. f. E: ae. an. n. f. δ;

in dealing with long words,

μεταφραζόμεσθα: -μεσθα D,

which, besides saving space, focuses attention on the variant

element; and to avoid making a statement about part of a word

in which unimportant variants exist. For example, suppose the

whole truth is

affirmasse A: adfirmasse BE: affirmauisse C: adfir-

mauisse D,

one may save space and at the same time clarify the two issues

by printing

aff- AC: adf- BDE -asse ABE: -auisse CD,

or simply the second divergence if the first is not thought worth

reporting. But however insignificant the first is, it should not

be disregarded to the extent of printing

affirmasse ABE: -auisse CD,

which involves a positive mis-statement. It would be better to put

affirmasse (vel adf-) ABE: etc.

89

Also to be avoided is

affirmasse A: adf- BE: -auisse CD,

where it is not clear whether CD have aff- or adf-.

In general, abbreviation of readings should be kept within modest

bounds. Too much of it will cause the reader bother.

The same applies to abbreviation in the editor’s own Latin,

though familiar abbreviations like om., add., ci., transp. are pre-

ferable to their full forms. Scholars’ names should be abbreviated

sparingly; it is all right when they are long and famous (Wil.)

or of frequent occurrence in the particular apparatus (that to

Quintus of Smyrna, for instance, is full of Rhodomann and Zimmer-

mann, who have a good claim to be shortened), but the casual

user of the edition does not want to have to turn to the list of sigla

for an explanation of Bk. or Hu.17). Especially to be deprecated

is the use of abbreviations which do not suggest a human being

at all, for instance c = Cunaeus, g = Graefe. The incautious con-

sulter of the edition will certainly think that readings so labelled

have some sort of manuscript authority, and he may not feel he

has anything to gain by foraging in the introduction for codicolo-

gical details18).

The basic information to be given about each reading is its

source. This is done in the ordinary case simply by placing the

appropriate sigla or name after the reading19). If the editor wants

to emphasize his confidence in a conjecture which he has adopted,

17. The misleading practice of omitting a full stop with abbreviated names

(‘Dalec’ = Dalecampius) should be eschewed.

18. Scholars’ initials can also be mistaken for manuscript sigla. In my apparatus

to Theognis I have written ‘Otto Schneider’ to avoid confusion on the one hand

with J. G. Schneider and on the other with the manuscript O.

19. The statement of sources of a transmitted reading should not be augmented

by names of editors or critics who have approved it. Similarly with conjectures,

only the original propounder should be named, with the place of publication if

necessary (see p. 73). There is no point in inserting ‘ci.’ (coniecit) except where

an emendation has to be distinguished from a decipherment of a difficult manu-

script.

90

he can transpose "iunxerunt Heinsius (or scripsi): iunxerunt codd."

"(The difference of meaning between ‘corr.’ or ‘em.’ and ‘ci.’ deserves

more respect than many editors give it.) Omissions, additions,

etc. are shown thus:

(i) Omission by a source.

672 om. b (i.e. the whole verse is omitted).

672 deest in b (carries less suggestion that b is at fault).

11 ab exitio urbium om. L (or deest in L).

(ii) Expunction by a scholar.

11 qui omnis hominis scit nomen del. Rumpelstilzchen.

If the deletion has been marked in the text by brackets, all that is

needed is

11 qui – nomen del. Rumpelstilzchen, or

11 { } Rumpelstilzchen.

‘11 del. Rumpelstilzchen’, however, may be misleading, at least in a

verse text, since it gives the impression that a whole line has

been condemned.

(iii) Extra words in a source.

9 post aliquando verba scilicet post resurrectionem

mortuorum habent MN.

(iv) Words added by conjecture20).

25 natam post fortunatam add. (or rest. or suppl.) Gandalf,

or

25 fortunatam Gandalf.

If a lacuna is marked in the text by < >, all that is needed is

25 Gandalf.

20. Conjecture by the copyist of a manuscript will be treated in the same way as

conjecture by a modern critic.

91

If 〈natam〉 is accepted in the text, all that is needed is

25 suppl. Gandalf, or 〈 〉Gandalf.

(v) Transpositions.

26–8 illud tibi – non uenerint post p. 31,10 nostra transp. Bartsch

1 arma canoque uirum Eigenwitz.

Where the transposition is adopted in the text:

10–12 illud tibi – non uenerint ante p. 30,28 quaedam babent codd.: transp. Bartsch.

1 uirumque cano codd.: transp. Eigenwitz.

Where the fact of transposition is shown in the text by the verse-numbers or by the combination of〈 〉and{ }, all that is needed is

213–4 transp. Hermann

16 ὅτι transp. Koraes.

If a verse has been transferred some way from its transmitted position, the reader will notice a gap in the numeration without immediately being able to see the reason for it. This calls for a note in the apparatus such as ‘1136 v. post 1158’. (A note is also called for if the numeration is discontinuous for any other reason, e.g. after Catullus 17.)

Mention may here be made of a more laconic style of apparatus favoured in particular by Wilamowitz. Here is a specimen from the Choephori.

(Text) (Apparatus)

900 πoῦ δὴ δὴ δὴ: Auratus (i.e. δὴ cod.: corr. Auratus)

906–7 bracketed 906,7 del. Berlage

908 σὺν δὲ σὺν Auratus : vῦv

915 αἰχῶς δἰχῶς: Wil

(He might have written vῦv: Auratus in 908, but felt that the reader might then hesitate before deciding that σὺν was the word

92

in the text that had been substituted for vvv.) The system has not

won much acceptance, and it seems that most people prefer things

to be a little more explicit.

The choice of sigla has been discussed on p. 74. Often a quali-

fication is needed, such as ‘before correction’, ‘over an erasure’,

‘by a second hand’. Here one may use an abbreviated Latin phrase

in ordinary type on the line: ante corr. (or a. c.), in ras(ura), m. sec.

(or rec.); or more compressed compendia at the superior level:

Aac, Air, A2. (With a papyrus called Π9, however, one will have to

revert to ‘Π9 m. rec.’ or ‘Π9 m2’.) These must be explained in the

list of sigla. Care must be taken to forestall confusion over the

referents of these qualifications; the comma is the simplest way

of making clear what is to be taken together. For instance, instead

of ‘A γρ. D’ write ‘A, γρ. D’ or ‘A γρ., D’, whichever is meant;

instead of ‘ADacG’ write ‘AacDacG’ or ‘AG,Dac,21).

Superior type is also useful when there is variation between

different manuscripts of an indirect source. At Theognis 724

γίγνεται for γίνεταί is given by p and by cod. A of Stobaeus.

‘γίγνεται p Stob. A’ might well lead to confusion, since the most

important manuscript of Theognis is also known as A. ‘p, cod. A

Stobaei’ is safer but cumbrous; ‘p Stob.A’ is better than either.

To embark on discussion of the merits of variants will rapidly

enlarge and obscure the apparatus. But when a telling point can

be made with a couple of words or mention of a parallel, there

is every advantage in making it. To point out, for example, that

a certain omission is explained by homocoleuton may save the

reader from the temptation to attach some greater significance

to it, and the editor himself from the need to refer to it in his

commentary. To indicate the reason for a conjecture may be to

avoid mystification or impetuous scorn. The apparatus is not

unsuitable for an interpretation of a difficult phrase, either, even

if there is to be no mention of an alternative reading. The resolu-

21. Commas or spaces can also be used to remind the reader of the manuscript

groupings.

93

tion of an obscurity is a contribution to the examination of the

soundness of the text.

Some special types of edition. Papyri, inscriptions

Editions of papyrus texts and inscriptions fall into two classes

which may be described as ‘scientific’ and ‘literary’. The first is

particularly appropriate to the first publication of a new text

(which should be accompanied by a photograph) or to a revision

carried out on the original. It reproduces the formal layout of the

original and conveys an accurate picture of its whole appearance.

It preserves its alphabet (without necessarily imitating its letter

forms) and records its spelling, its punctuation and its lection

signs, marginal additions, etc., in the apparatus if not in the text.

Modern reading signs may be introduced provided that they do

not obscure ancient ones; à Γράφτρα τοῖς Φαλείοις. πατήρἀν θαρρεῖν

καὶ γeνeἀν καὶ ταὐτὀ may be printed without risk that anyone will

suppose the inscription to be furnished with accents and long

signs, but with a papyrus that has some accents the simplest way

to communicate the details is to print them as they are. Where

there are difficulties of decipherment or interpretation, the method

of ‘diplomatic’ transcription may be recommended 22). A complete-

ly objective transcription that adds nothing to what is visible on

the original is printed together with an interpretation of it, e.g.

τέμeνocμ[,]γaxaι[ πλaτὀ,πιστὸνἀπαci .[ ἰδρύcaθeφρeνῶνὕπ[ πeρὶδaυτοδixaίων[

τέμeνoc μ[ἐ]γa xαὶ[ πλaτὀ, πίστον ἀπασὶ .[ ἰδρύcaθe φρενῶν ὕπ[ πeρὶ δ' aὐτὸ δίxαιων

The apparatus includes a careful description of doubtful letters,

or an indication of the different possibilities. This goes beyond

the ordinary range of apparatus Latin, and it may be better if the

editor uses his own language; compare the English palaeographical

22. See E. G. Turner, Greek Papyri (Oxford 1968), p. 71. The system might also

be used for a text which depends on one fairly corrupt medieval manuscript.

94

notes in recent volumes of the Oxyrhynchus Papyri with the Latin

ones in Lobel and Page, Poetarum Lesbiorum Fragmenta. Re-

ference is by column and line. It is customary to use Roman

numerals for column-numbers.

In what I call literary edition of a papyrus text or inscription,

less attention is paid to the layout of the original. The text is pre-

sented more as any other piece of prose or verse would be; there

is less emphasis on the physical copy and more on the composition

itself. The difference between this and the more interpretative

sort of ‘scientific’ edition is illustrated by the text of the first

Delphic Paean as given on p. 141 of Powell’s Collectanea Alexan-

drina, in comparison with that on pp. 142–4. The lines are redivided,

and melodic spellings like τασδε πετερας eliminated. This kind of

edition is suitable for a literary work such as Aristotle’s Constitu-

tion of Athens, or a play of Menander, where numeration by

chapter or verses takes the place of column and line23). The ap-

paratus too will be more like that to an ordinary text. There will

be no need to record details like accents in a papyrus, except

where they affect the interpretation. Anyone with a special interest

in them will naturally turn to the original, scientific publication,

to photographs, or to the papyrus itself.

The distinction between scientific and literary edition is of

course not absolute. Their characteristics can be blended in dif-

ferent ways, and something between the two may be what is most

suitable in a particular case.

Fragment collections

Special problems are involved in editing the fragments of lost

works gathered from references by other authors. The first ques-

tion is what to include. Some editions include only verbatim quo-

23. So long as reference is by the lines of the scribe or stonemason, it is better to

reproduce this lineation than to have to mark it by a system of dividers, as is done

e.g. in Dittenberger’s Sylloge Inscriptionum Graecarum: that makes it a slow

business to find a line-reference.

95

tations, but it is arbitrary to make this a principle; a statement

that the author told such-and-such a story, for example, may be

far more valuable than an uninformative verbatim fragment. If the

editor wishes to publish only selected fragments, let him make

his selection in some sensible way. If his collection is meant to

be complete, he must include testimonia - not biographical

statements about the author or aesthetic judgments on his work,

but everything that helps to compensate for the loss of the work

by supplying evidence about its form or contents.

The sources for each fragment must be specified, and in many

cases something of the context in which a quotation occurs must

be given in order for the reader to orient himself. The most

straightforward form of presentation is to print the fragment sur-

rounded by its context (but picked out by larger or spaced type

as appropriate) and preceded by the source-reference. Examples:

Merkelbach-West, Fragmenta Hesiodeae; Jacoby, Fragmente der

griechischen Historiker. If several sources give the fragment in

different contexts, it may be abbreviated after its first appearance,

as in Hes. fr. 205. Dependence of one source on another should

be indicated, as in Hes. frr. 62, 126, 170.

An alternative format often adopted consists of printing the

fragment in isolation and the sources and contexts somewhere

below. Examples: Diehl, Anthologia Lyrica Graeca; Pfeiffer,

Callimachus. This gives the page a tidier appearance, but makes

it harder to read the fragment in its context. It is useful as a varia-

tion on the first system when the fragment is not given complete

by any source but is a reconstruction from two or more; see e. g.

Archilochus fr. 5 or 43 in my Iambi et Elegi Graeci I. The latter

fragment will also serve to illustrate how different sizes of type

may be used to distinguish more important from less important

sources.

Fragment-numbers should be printed prominently above the

fragment or in the left-hand margin; in the apparatus they should

be in bold type to distinguish them from line-numbers, in the case

of verse fragments, but in an edition of prose fragments (unless,

96

they are very short) it is better to use the lineation of the page for

reference as in an ordinary prose text. If alternative numerations

are to be given, they may be added in brackets after the main

number in the text (as in Page, Poetae Melici Graeci) or in the ap-

paratus (as in Fragmenta Hesiodea), or reserved for a separate

table. There must also be a table for converting the old numeration

to the new. People will more often want to trace an old-style

reference in the new edition than vice versa.

For remarks on the position of the apparatus on the page, see

p. 76. In many cases it will be necessary to cite in the apparatus

manuscripts of numerous different authors. The more often the

reader can be given a brief note about their relationships, the

more intelligently he can use the apparatus. For examples see my

Iambi et Elegi Graeci I. ix-xi and the apparatus to Archil. frr. 115,

122, 129.

Scholia

Most bodies of scholia exist in different recensions. These should

be edited together, not in different volumes or parts of a volume,

nor on the other hand conflated into a hybrid text, but each

distinct version of each scholium consecutively. (Minor variations

of wording in individual manuscripts do not constitute a ‘distinct

version’.) Each of these items should start on a new line. Unless

it begins with a linking-formula such as ἄλλως, it should be

prefaced with a lemma indicating which piece of text is the sub-

ject of the comment. This may or may not be transmitted in the

manuscript(s). If it is not, it should be supplied by the editor in

brackets24). A long supplied lemma may be abbreviated, e.g.

Iliad 1,13-16 (λυóμενος – λαιῶν). The lemma should be printed

in bold or spaced type. It will itself be preceded by the reference

of the chapter, section or verse from which it comes, unless this

24. Round brackets, as used by Drachmann in the Pindar scholia, are more ap-

propriate than angular ones, since the supplement is of something understood

rather than omitted in error.

97

is the same as for the preceding item. Some editors distinguish by

a series of letters the several scholia included in the same reference,

whether or not they refer to the same lemma, e.g.:

Pind. Ol. 3,12 a. (πράσσοντι:) ἀπαιτοῦσι. Bgl

b. θεόδμ-α-των χρέος: ἡ τὸ ἀπὸ θεῶν μεριζόμενον ἢ τὸ εἰς θεοὺς μεριζό-

μενον. A

c. θεόδμ-α-των: τὸ εἰς θεοὺς πεποιημένον. λέγει δὲ τὴν ὕδρην. Bgl (C),

DQ (→ 17).

It is a good idea. The lines of the page will also be numbered in

the inner margin, as in a normal prose text, and this numeration

used in the apparatus.

The manuscript sources for each item are best stated at the end of

it, in the text, as shown in the example just given. The parenthesis

after DQ (which are marked off by the comma after (C)) informs

the reader that in those manuscripts the scholium is followed by

the one on verse 17; such dislocations are common, and though

they should be corrected, intelligibility sometimes depends on

their being recorded. The outer margin can be used for indications

of the scholium's origin in cases where it can be inferred. Example:

Erbse, Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem.

Grammatical material in scholia, especially to Greek poets, is

often closely cognate with material in scholia to other authors or

in etymologica etc. The parallels should as far as possible be sought

out and cited in a register above the apparatus. Examples: Drach-

mann, Erbse, opp. citt.; Wendel, Scholia in Apollonium Rhodium.

Indexes

What kinds of index are required will depend on the nature of the

text and the degree to which satisfactory indexes have already

been published. The most usual sorts are the index of proper

names, the index of authors quoted or alluded to, the index of

subjects (in a work of a didactic nature), and the general index of

words. In an edition of fragments, besides the numeration-con-

98

cordance mentioned above, an index of the sources is useful -

papryi, quoting authors etc. Indices non sunt praeter neces-

sitatem multiplicandi. There is seldom any advantage and

often some disadvantage in separating the proper names from the

index of words, for instance; and while Drachmann deserves

benevolence for his anxiety to help the user of his Pindar scholia,

the user for his part needs some persistence if he is to find what he

wants amid the fifty-two alphabetical sequences at the end of the

edition. Page-headings should be used to make clear which index

each page-opening belongs to.

In an index of proper names, the entries are best given in the

same language as the text, and in the nominative case, unless some

special interest attaches to the case-forms. Different bearers of the

same name must be distinguished, and some closer identification

is always useful, e. g.

'Αργέλαος (ἱστορικός)

L. Arruntinus (historicis,

cos. 22 a. Ch.)

'Αργέλαος (RE 34)25)

Asellius(?) Sabinus; cf.

PIR2, A 1213)

'Αργέλαος (Μακεδονίας, RE 7) (T. Pomponius) Atticus.

If there are many references, it is a great help to the user to

classify them and give an indication of what each passage is about.

In the case of a prose work the editor should consider whether

references by page and line of the edition are not more convenient

for the reader than references by book, chapter and section. (It

should be said in favour of the latter that they can be used in con-

junction with a different edition, to save turning pages backwards

and forwards while looking up a series of references.) If the re-

ferences consist of more than one numeral, it will make for clarity

to separate adjacent references by a semicolon rather than a single

point. But '36,26; 36,29;' should be abbreviated as '36,26.29;' not

25. I. e. the 34th holder of the name in Pauly-Wissowa. The examples are from the

OCT editions of Diogenes Laertius and Seneca's Letters.

99

'36.26; 29;'. '1,2,1; 1,3,3; 1,3,5; 1,6,7;' may be abbreviated as

1 2,1; 3,3.5; 6,7;'.

An index of authors can be combined with an index of names,

as in the OCT edition of Gellius. It should list the passages quoted

or alluded to in order, with a note of the edition used if necessary,

e.g.

Epicurus ed. Usener

fr. 132: 57,4

133: 61,5

135: 58,6.

In an index of subjects the entries will usually be best left in the

language of the text. No one will find a Latin index to a Greek

work convenient to use. If there is a word index, the subject

index will naturally be incorporated in it.

A word index may be selective or complete. There are limits to

the degree of completeness that is useful: there is no point in

listing every occurrence of καί, for example, since anyone making

a special study of καί would have to work through the whole

text in any case. The sensible procedure would be to pick out the

instances of καí in special uses, in combination with other particles,

etc. and to indicate that the entry has been limited to these. It is

obviously a great help to the user to distinguish between separate

meanings and constructions to some extent, e.g. between μετά +

accusative and μετά + genitive, or ut comparative and ut final.

It is very desirable in indexing some texts - those of literary or

linguistic and not merely technical interest - to distinguish the

various forms of nouns, verbs, etc.26). Naturally they should all

26. A difficulty arises when the index covers a group of authors or works, like

Fatouros' Index Verborum zur frühgriechischen Lyrik. Someone looking up (say)

the instances of ἔρως in Anacreon has to pick out the Anacreon references from

those given for each case-form; someone looking up the instances in all the poets

has to keep jumping from edition to edition. The user's convenience is perhaps

best served in such a situation by abandoning the analysis of forms except in

entries where they are particularly significant.

100

be grouped together: Ϩγούλετο under γούλομξαι. The entry might

read simply

γούλεται 29,2. 3 bis; 30,1; Ϩγούλετο 6,7.

But suppose the author also used forms of γούλη, γούληφόρος. The

user of the index would look for forms of γούλομξαι after those

entries. The entry should then take the form

(γούλομξαι) γούλεται 29,2 etc.

Where there is uncertainty about the occurrence of a word or

form because of some textual problem, warning must be given by

means of some adjunct to the reference, ‘(ci.)’, ‘(v. l.)’, or a symbol

such as an asterisk.

Printing

The printer should be offered a clear and well-spaced manuscript

or typescript on paper of uniform size27) with the pages numbered

continuously throughout. Only one side of the paper should be

used. Any corrections that have been made should be very clearly

marked. Instructions about page-headings etc. should be provided.

Footnotes for the introduction may either be placed at the foot

of each sheet or on separate sheets. In either case they should be

numbered serially through the chapter or the whole. Similarly

with the critical apparatus and other registers to go below the

text; the editor will almost certainly find it convenient to set

them out on separate sheets. Unless he starts each item on a new

line, he will have to be careful to indicate the spaces between

them, especially at the end of a line.

Making a new copy of the text is laborious and involves the

danger of error, particularly errors of omission. It is common

practice to send the printer instead a copy of an existing edition

with the required changes marked (in ink) as if on printer’s proofs.

27. Except that for the text itself a corrected copy of a printed edition can be sub-

mitted (see below), and for the indexes a pack of cards or slips.

This too has its dangers. It is a well-documented fact that errors and misprints persist from edition to edition as a result of it 28), and one can only advise that the editor takes the greatest care to see that the one he uses correctly reproduces the paradosis in the places where he does not choose to depart from the paradosis. He must also see that it has been brought into conformity with his wishes in matters such as punctuation, numeration, the use of capitals.

Making alterations in proof causes extra delay and expense. The editor should reduce the need for them as far as possible by verifying references at the manuscript stage and generally seeing that his manuscript is correct, unambiguous and consistent with regard to abbreviations etc., and that it reflects his final and settled opinions. But if he has grown wiser by the time the proofs come, the printer's interests must yield to the reader's. The correction should be devised in such a way as to cause as little disturbance to the typesetting as possible, for instance by compensating for a deletion with an insertion of similar length nearby. This is particularly kind if the proofs are already arranged in the form of pages, as opposed to galley-proofs 29).

Page-proofs are necessary, of course, before page- and line-references can be adjusted. The line-numbers in the apparatus to a prose text must be inserted or corrected at this stage, unless the pagination of an older edition has been reproduced exactly. Indexes in which references are given by page and line are best not made till now.

Conclusion

The problems which different texts present, to the editor or to the textual critic, vary enormously, and one must be flexible

28. See A. Severyns, Texte et Appart. Histoire critique d'une tradition imprimée (Bruxelles 1962); Fränkel, Einleitung. . ., p. 123.

29. This does not seem the place for an account of the marks used in correcting proofs. Conventions differ somewhat in different countries.

enough to follow whatever course is most suited to the particular

circumstances. The advice contained in the foregoing pages will

not meet every possible case, I am sure. But if the editor holds

fast to the ideals of accuracy, clarity and elegance, does what the

subject demands, and treats the reader as a deserving but not

necessarily patient friend, there is a good hope that his edition

will be welcomed just as warmly as his scholarship merits.

103

Part III

Specimen Passages

1. Hesiod, Theogony 176–200

For my first illustration I have chosen a text transmitted in a fairly large number of manuscripts. I have complete collations of thirty at my disposal, and partial collations of several more. Many of them are of no individual importance, but in what follows I report their readings in full in order to give an idea of the extent and character of manuscript variation in a tradition of this kind.

No stemma can be constructed, but the majority of manuscripts fall into clearly defined groups. The hyparchetype a is represented by four descendants, O V W X. None of them is older than the 14th century, but agreements with an 11th-century fragment and with the perhaps pre-Eustathian allegorical commentary of Johannes Diaconus Galenus suggest that a may represent a kind of Byzantine vulgate. Not dissimilar is r, a lost copy represented by seven extant manuscripts and their apographa; three of the seven come from a intermediate copy u which deserts r a little later in the poem. After leaving r, u will follow k, which may have been a recension of the Palaeologan era drawing on several sources. In lines 176–200, k is represented only by one extant manuscript, K. Of similar character to k is the hyparchetype b, represented by five manuscripts. One of these, L, is 14th-century, the others depend on a 15th-century model m.

S, the oldest manuscript available here (1280), is of Planudean origin, and characterized by emendation as well as by eclecticism. The same applies to Triclinius’ autograph copy Tr, made a little

105

before 1320. The remaining manuscripts mostly belong to the

undistinguished family c, which has its heyday in the 15th century

but has a precursor in Q about 1300.

ἦλθε δὲ νύκτ᾽ ἐπάγων μέγας Οὐρανός, ἀμφὶ δὲ Γαίη

ἱμείρων φιλότητος ἐπέσχετο, καὶ ῥ᾽ ἐτανύσθη

πάντη ὁ δ᾽ ἐξ λοχείας παῖς ὠρέξατο χειρί

σχαιῇ, δεξιτερῇ δὲ πελώριον ἔλαβεν ἄρπην,

180

μαχρήν χαραδόδοντα, φίλου δ᾽ ἀπό μήδεα πατρὸς

ἐσσυμένως ἥμεσε, πάλιν δ᾽ ὤριψε φέρσθαι

ἐξόπισω. τὰ μὲν οὖν ἐτώσια ἔφυγε χειρός·

ὅσσι γὰρ ῥαθαμίγγες ἀπέσσυθεν αἰματοέσσαι,

πάσας δέξατο Γαῖα· περιπλομένων δ᾽ ἐνιαυτῶν

185

γείνετ᾽ Ἐρινύς τε κρατεράς τε Γίγαντας,

τεύχεσι λαμπομένους, δολίχ᾽ ἔγχεα χερσὶν ἔχοντας,

Νύμφας θ᾽ ἃς Μελίαις χαλεούσ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἄπειρονα γαῖαν.

μήδεα δ᾽ ὡς τὸ πρῶτον ἀποστήσας ἀδάμαντι

χάββαλ᾽ ἀπ᾽ ἠπείροιο πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ,

190

ὡς φέρεν᾽ ἄμ πέλαγος πολύν ἤχρον, ἀμφὶ δὲ λευκὸς

ἀφρὸς ἀπ᾽ ἀθανάτοιο χροὸς ὤρνυτο τῷ δ᾽ ἔνι κούρη

ἐθρέφθη πρῶτον δὲ Κυθήροιςι Ζαθέοιςιν

ἔπλετ᾽, ἔνθεν ἔπειτα περιρρυτόν ἵκετο Κύπρον.

ἐκ δ᾽ ἔβη αἰδοίη καλὴ θεός, ἀμφὶ δὲ ποίη

195

ποσσὶν ὑπὸ ῥαδινοῖσιν ἄέξατο τὴν δ᾽ Ἀφροδίτην

{ἀφρογενέα τε θεὰν καὶ εὐστεφάνου Κυθέρεια}

κιχλήσκουσι θεοί τε καὶ ἄνδρες, οὔνεκ᾽ ἔν ἀφρῷ

θρέφθη ἄταρ Κυθήροις, ὅτι πρόσθε κυρσαμὲν Κυθήροιςι

Κυπρογενέα δ᾽, ὅτι γέντο περικλυστῷ ἐνὶ Κύπρῳ.

ἡ δὲ φιλόμμειδέ᾽, ὅτι μηδεῶν ἐξέφαηνη.

200

176 γαίην Vat. 1948

An accusative would be possible, but the correct form would be

γαῖαv, and a single member of the c family is most unlikely to

preserve a true reading by itself.

177 (i) ἱμείρω Arundel 522 : ἱμέρων u (εἰ superscr. U2)

The variants are restricted to the r family, and seem to be independent of each other. Neither has an obvious explanation; possibly the scribe who wrote ἱμείρω, seeing the words ‘longing for sex’, at once thought of his own longing.

(ii) ἐταvύσθη : ἐπαvύσθη Vat. 1948

The scribe was unfamiliar with the poetic word. ἐπαvυ- may be an echo of ἐπ-έσχετο or an anticipation of πάvτη, or, if the exemplar was written in two columns, it may come from πάvτα at the end of 175, which would have appeared immediately above. -ἰσθη represents the substitution of a phonetically equivalent but commoner ending, as if from a verb in -ἰζω.

178 (i) λοχέοιο K L S Tr Par. 2772 Laur. 31,32, γρ. Z2 schol. Et. Gen. : λοχεοῖο Mosq. 469 (γε in ras.?), Aristonicus : λεχέοιο Q : λόχοιο O V r Par. 2833 Vrat. Rehd. 35, γρ. L1 : λοχοῖο W : λούχοιο X2 ex λόχoιo : λοχίοιο Z Mosq. 470 Phillipps 11723 Senensis I,IX,3, λοχίο Par. 2834 : λοχίοιo Vat. 1948 : λόχoιo Paley : τε λόχοιο Heyne : λεχρίοιο Ahrens

Scholia on this line and on Iliad 23,160 discuss the accentuation of λοχεος. In both, λοχεός is commended but it is admitted that manuscripts give λοχέοιο. Aristonicus is named as the authority for the correct form. It is clear, then, that λοχεοῖο was the ancient reading, and although it is not found elsewhere, it is credible as a by-form of λόχος, however we accent it. Those manuscripts which have preserved it mostly give the accentuation which the scholia describe as current. In a, r, and m it was displaced by the ordinary form λόχοιο, to the detriment of the metre. But the copyist of one of the m manuscripts, Mosq. 469, had the scholium before him and was able to restore λοχεοῖο (with Aristonicus’s accentuation). The scholium may also be responsible for the accentuations λοχοῖο in W and λοχιοῖο in Vat. 1948. λοχίοιο in four other c manuscripts may represent either a misreading of λοχέοιο or a metrical emendation of λόχοιο. λούχοιο (X2) is certainly the latter, inspired by epic forms such as πoυλύς for πoλύς. Q’s λεχέοιο springs from confusion with λέχoς, which the context put into the scribe’s mind.

107

It should not be taken as support for Ahrens's conjecture, which was based on suspicion of the form λoχεos and on Antimachus' use of the adverb λéχρıς in connexion with the castration of Uranos. The other conjectures also aim at being rid of λoχεos, but retain the word meaning hiding-place, which Hesiod used in 174 and is likely enough to have used again. Heyne's introduction of τε links the clause with the following one more closely than is usual in epic narrative. Paley assumes an original λóχoıo with the first syllable scanned long as with βρόχos in Theogn. 1099, őφıs in Homer and Hipponax, etc. λoχεıo would then be an early emendation of what seemed unmetrical. This is certainly an easier change than that presupposed by Ahrens, but still harder to believe than that λoχεıo is original.

(ii) πάıs τ’ Tr

The particle here is indefensible. Triclinius inserted it on metrical grounds without regard to its proper function, being unfamiliar with the rare scansion πãıs.

(iii) ὀρέξατo Arundel 522 Q Par. 2772 Laur. 31,32 Vat. Barb. 43 : ἐρέξατo V : ἐδέξατo Mosq. 470 Phillipps 11723 Senensis I,IX,3 Vat. 1948, Barb. 43 in marg.

ὀρέξατo in Q, three c and one r manuscript is phonetically equivalent to ὠρέξατo for the Byzantine scribe. He made the error perhaps while mentally identifying the verb as ὀρέγω; he would not have written ὠρέγɛı for ὀρέγɛı. ὀρέξατo presumably stood in the common ancestor of Q and c, but arose independently in the r manuscript. Other scribes failed to recognize the verb, seeing instead other verbs that χɛıρí might well accompany; ἐδέξατo in a sub-group of c may be influenced by ἐλáθɛσı below.

179 (i) χαıτń Mosq. 470 Senensis I,IX,3, Phillipps 11723 ante corr.

The same sub-group is at fault. Perhaps a red initial was over-looked.

(ii) πɛλώρŋν b : πέλωρον X²

πɛλώρŋν is a correct form, but gives a less usual rhythm for this place in the verse, and can be explained as an assimilation to

108

Γαῖα πελώρη in 159 and 173. The unmetrical correction in X is

probably also inspired by the recent evidence that πελώριος is the

proper form of the adjective; but the -ον ending is retained.

(iii) ἔλαβεν a r K Mosq. 469 Vrat. Rehd. 35 Q c Et. Gen.

The ordinary form has made extensive inroads in the tradition:

not, however, in metre-conscious copies such as S and Tr.

180 (i) μακρόν S

Influenced by the preceding πελώριον and perhaps the mascu-

line associations of the following -οντα.

(ii) χαρχαρόδοντα Vat. 1948

The manuscript gave the same spelling in 175, and Hesychius

has χάρχαροι· τραχεῖς (for χάρχαροι). Simple assimilation of syl-

lables will be responsible.

(iii) φίλον Arundel 522

Assimilation to the preceding accusatives.

(iv) μέζεα hic et in 188 Nauck

This is the dialect form used by Hesiod in WD 512, where he

is speaking of animals. No manuscripts there have altered it to

μήδεα, and it is not very plausible that it should have become

μήδεα twice in the Theogony; nor is it justifiable to suppose that

in speaking of the gods Hesiod would not use the Homeric form.

181 (i) ἐσσύμενος Vat. 1948 : ἐσσομένῃς Arundel 522

Only the adverb is used in the sense ‘quickly’ in early epic.

The scribe of Vat. 1948 may have been expecting a nominative

participle; -μενος is after all a much commoner ending than

-μένως. The compendium for ως is easily mistaken for η, so that

-μένῃς might be explained as a conflation of -μένῃ with a correc-

tion ως.

(ii) ἔριψε V Vat. 1332, U ante corr. : ἔτριψε Casan. 356.

The first variant is merely orthographical. The second may

have been influenced by ἐτ(ώσια) below.

182 (i) οὔτοι K

τοι is rare in epic narrative; τι is more often corrupted into it

109

than vice versa, e.g. WD 756, Theogn. 750, 989. Phonetically

they were identical.

(ii) ἐτώσι᾿ ἄμ᾿ Flach

An absurd conjecture designed to obviate the quite unobjec-

tionable hiatus. ἄμ᾿ has no appropriateness to the sentence and

produces an unwelcome breach of Hermann's Bridge.

183 (i) ὅσαι Arundel 522

Banalization of the normal kind.

(ii) ἐπέσσυθεν O ante corr. : ἀπέσσυθον K : ἀπέσσυθεν Senensis I,IX,3

ante corr.

The prefixes ἀπ-, ἐπ-, ὐπ-, are not infrequently confused.

ἐπέσσυθεν would mean 'flew onto' (the earth), which is possible,

but it is better to have the connexion with 182 as given by ἀπ-.

The form given by K is incorrect, but shows the termination that

the scribe expected for a 3rd person plural.

(iii) αἱματόεσσαυ Laur. 91 sup. 10 (corr. m2)

Apparently just a misreading of iota as a narrow ν.

184 (i) ἐδέξατο Vat. 1332 u : δ᾿ ἐδέξατο Casan. 356

The variation is limited to the r family. ἐδέξατο is not impos-

sible, since the Doric scansion πάσᾶς would have parallels in

Hesiod, but it is far more likely to be the regular banalization of

an unaugmented form. The reading of the Casanatensis should

not be described as a dittography: it is ἐδέξατο inherited from r,

with the further intrusion of a connecting particle, which is itself

a standard type of corruption.

(ii) περιπλωμένων V : περιπαρμένων Vat. 2185 (corr. m2)

One phonetic and one visual error.

(iii) δ᾿ om. V W X Casan. 356 Laur. 91 sup. 10 Vat. 1332

Arundel 522

The omission is common to a and r, though O and u have

avoided it. It goes back to a scribe who was unprepared for a new

sentence in the middle of the line and who connected the parti-

cipial phrase with what preceded. See below on 185 (i).

110

(iv) περιπεπλoμένωι δ’ ἐνιαυτῶι Et. Gud. : τoῦ χρόνoυ δὲ περιερχoμένoυ

Exeg.

The paraphrase in the anonymous Exegesis may correspond to

περιπεπλoμένoυ δ’ ἐνιαυτoῦ : χρόνoς can mean ‘year’ in Byzantine as in

modern Greek. Early epic usage allows either the singular or the

plural in such expressions, but not the dative. The reading of the

Etymologicum Gudianum will therefore be a corruption, of a

genitive plural presumably. Since the support for a genitive

singular is so uncertain, we shall naturally leave the plural in the

text.

185 (i) γείνatο δ’ V X Casan. 356 Laur. 91 sup. 10 Vat. 1332

Arundel 522

The attachment of περιπεπλoμένωv ἐνιαυτῶv to πάσας δ’ ἐξατo Γαĩa

led to the assumption of a new sentence here and the return of

the particle omitted in 184.

(ii) ἐριvύς c (v in ras. Phillipps 11723): ἐρρυvύς O X (ἐρρ X ante corr.)

Casan. 356 Vat. 1332 U m S Tr Q Laur. 31,32 m2 Z Et. Gud.:

ἐριvύς K L : ἐρριvύς W Laur. 91 sup. 10 Arundel 522 : ἐρριvύς

V Vat 2185

The spelling with vv is apparently commoner in manuscripts than

that with single nu. The transfer of the gemination to the rho may

have been an attempt to restore the metre after γείνatο δ’. At any

rate it seems to go back to the junction of a and r; individual

copyists corrected it (the scribe of X is seen in the act).

(iii) τε prius om. Vat. 1948

Omission of inessential particle. The scribe saw ἐριvύς χατερoàs

together.

(iv) χατερoὺς U ante corr.

Anticipation of μεγαλoυς.

186 δoλίγ’ U ante corr.

Anticipation of ἐγχεα.

187 (i) δ’ Q: τ’ Vat. 1948

θ’ can easily be misread as δ’, and δ’ immediately below may

have played a part.

111

(ii) χαλέουσιν b (αι superscr. L; corr. Mosq. 469)

The elided verb was accidentally written in full. The corrector of L, or a predecessor, misread the apostrophe in χαλέουσ᾽ as the compendium for αι.

188 (i) μήδε Laur. 91 sup. 10 ante corr. Arundel 522

The word may have been written μήδ᾽ in the exemplar.

(ii) θ᾽ ατ (corr. U) K Tr, γρ. L1

From θ᾽ ἄτ above. The change of subject calls for δέ.

(iii) τά πρῶτα Vat. 1948 Z

Probably a reminiscence of 108 εἰπάτε δ᾽ ὡς τά πρῶτα and 113 ἦ δὲ καὶ ὡς τά πρῶτα.

189 (i) χάββαλ᾽ Laur. 91 sup. 10 Arundel 522 : χάμβαλ᾽ Casan. 356 K Q c

The very unusual combination ββ was interpreted as the less outlandish-looking μβ by an easy visual error. The scribe who wrote χάββαλ᾽ may have been thinking vaguely of χαβάλλης ‘horse’.

(ii) ἡπείρου a r (corr. U)

Banalization.

(iii) πολυκλύστω O X, W post corr. : πολυκλύτω Casan. 356 : πολυχλεíστω V, U ante corr.

Following the corruption to ἡπείρου, someone in the a family tried to restore the metre with the impossible πολυ-. Other scribes assimilated -κλυστος to more familiar words: -κλυτος ‘famous’, -κλειστος ‘closed’ (quite unsuitable to the sea, of course, but phonetically equivalent to -κλυστος).

(iv) ἐνὶ Casan. 356

The scribe thoughtlessly gives the word the aspiration of the εὐì more familiar to him.

190 (i) ἄν X S, ἂν Vat. 2185

That we write ἀμ πέλαγος but ἐν πελάγει is pure convention. However, the convention was established in antiquity, and these scribes are perhaps thinking of the much commoner modal particle rather than of a legitimate alternative spelling of the apo-

copated form of ἀνά. μ and ν are easily confused in minuscule,

and words ending in μ are exceptional.

(ii) πέλογος Phillipps 11723

Assimilation of vowels perhaps influenced by thoughts of λόγος.

(iii) ποικλύν S post corr. : ποικλύν X² : ποικύν codd. ceteri : ποίλκλύν Fick

πολύν is clearly the paradosis, the two other variants being

copyists' emendations to repair the metre; both S and the corrector

of X are prone to emend. As ποικλύν is a non-existent form, we have

the choice between ποιηλύν and ποικλύν. Both forms occur with

χρόνον in epic, though ποιηλύν only in later epic; and there are

known cases of both ποιηλύς and ποικλός being banalized to ποικλύς.

(Details in my commentary.) So no certain decision is possible.

(iv) λεικός : λ ex κ factum S : λευκός Phillipps 11723 ante corr.

I have not put ‘κεικός S ante corr.’, because I do not suppose

that the scribe ever wrote κεικός. He probably corrected his error

after writing only κ. His eye may have slipped to κόρη below.

I have no explanation for λεικός.

191 (i) ἀφρός om. Laur. 91 sup. 10 (post χρός rest. m²), Arundel 522

In an earlier copy in two columns written across the page, the

word may have got transferred to the end of 190 (adjective and

noun together: see below p. 138 on Catullus 61,219/20); that

would make its omission easy. The corrector of the Laurentianus

found it in the margin and, having no understanding of metre,

inserted it next to its verb.

(ii) δ’ ἀπ’ Senensis I,IX,3

Another intrusion of a connective at the beginning of a verse.

(iii) χρός : ός in ras. Arundel 522

Perhaps χρόνος had been written by mistake, from χρόνον in 190.

(iv) ὤρνυτο : ν in ras. Phillipps 11723: ὥρμα S

ὤρμα, i. e. ὥρμα, looks like a conjecture made because the end

of ὤρνυτο was illegible in the exemplar; or it may be a gloss, cf.

Hesych. ὀρνυμένου· ὁρμῶντος, ὥρτο· ἀνέστη, ὥρμησεν, etc.

(v) τῷ : δῶ Senensis, δῶ Phillipps ante cort.

113

Assimilation to the next consonant, presumably.

192 ἐτρέφθη Laur. 31,32 Z

Phonetic dissimilation, or the influence of the present (see above on 178 (iii)).

193 (i) ἔπλετο K Tr Q c, γρ. Mosq. 469

The rare ἔπλετο, guaranteed by the sense, was ousted by the somewhat more familiar epic aorist of πέλομαι. Perhaps the man responsible saw ἔπλετο written in full, and thought that it ought to be made into a dactyl.

(ii) πέρρυτον (superscr. ῑ) W : περήρυτον L

L's variant is merely orthographical, W's is a haplography.

(iii) ἵξετο : ῑ ex η S ut vid.

The scribe was thinking of ἦχων, similar to ἵξω in sound and sense.

194 ᾐδοίων Lennep

There can be no objection to ᾐδοίην, and it is supported by Hymn. Hom. 6,1 ᾐδοίην…καλήν 'Αφροδίτην. Certainly a corruption of ᾐδοίων to ᾐδοίην would be explicable (as assimilation). But ᾐδοῖα is not the word Hesiod uses for the genitals in this passage, nor does he say that Aphrodite developed in them, he says she grew in the foam that formed round them. An unconvincing conjecture.

195 (i) ὑπαί U² Tr c (praeter Par. 2772; ὑπὸ Laur. 31,32 m²)

A metrical emendation; Triclinius may have been its author. But the problem was already apparent to the scribe of S, and he knew that the initial rho was sufficient to lengthen the syllable. He indicated as much by writing a second rho above it.

(ii) ῥαδινοῖσι W : ῥάδινοϊσιν (accentu acuto postea eraso) Phillipps 11723

The scribe mistook the stem of the adjective for ῥάδιον, and made only a partial correction.

(iii) αὔξατο W : ἀέξατο Tr : μαραίνετο Exeg.

114

The scribe of W was thinking of αὐζω, αὐζάνω, whence perhaps also his -ζα-. The sigmatic element in the ζ may also have sug-

gested an aorist. The extraordinary μapαíνeтo, which is clearly presupposed by the Exegesis (p. 382,23 Flach), must have origi-

nated as a conjecture. One can only speculate on the reasons for it.

(iv) δ’ om. Vat. 1948

196 (i) versum damn. Heyne

It interrupts the etymology ’Aφpoδíтn - oűνeк’ ἐν ἀφρῷ, and forestalls that of Kuθépeıa. It looks to have been interpolated to

make the etymology more explicit with ἀφpoγeνéα.

(ii) ἀφpoγéveıaν codd., Et. Gen. et Magn. : -γeνñ Guyet, -γeνéα Werfer

The verse is ancient - it was apparently known to Clement - and it is therefore likely that it was originally metrical. An accu-

sative of fem. ἀφpoγeνñc is indicated by echoes in Orph. εὐγéνη 11 and fr. 183,5. The corruption, and the parallel one in 199, may be

explained by the influence of Kuθépeıaν twice nearby and Kuπpo-

γéveıa in other poets.

(iii) θeòν (sine τe) Tr

Triclinius omitted the particle in an attempt to mend the metre. The result is a very rough rhythm. He may have thought θeòν more

capable of synizesis than θeὰν; or θeoí below may have affected his pen.

197 (i) κιλήσkoucı W ante corr.

A sort of haplography.

(ii) oűνeк’ εἰν r : oűνeкeν Mosq. 469 Tr : oűνeχ̆ S : oűνeк’ L Par. 2833 Vrat. Rehd. 35 : oűνeχ’ ἐν Senensis

198 (i) θépφθη Casan. 356 Vat. 2185, θépφθη ex тépфθη vel contra

U (et marg. θpépфθη) тépфθη was probably the earlier reading in U, copied from u (which is a brother of the Casanatensis and parent of the Vatic-

nus). This was a simple error of metathesis, and тépфθη a conjecture

115

suggested by it and by the delightful atmosphere that Aphrodite

carries with her (cf. τέρψιν in 206).

(ii) αὐτὰρ r K c

Banalization: αὐτὰρ is much the commoner epic form.

(iii) xυθήρης Arundel 522 : xύθηραν Vat. 2185

In the mental ear of a scribe who knew Κύθηρα as a feminine

singular, kuthēris naturally became xυθήρης. The other variant is

an echo of Κυθέρειαν.

199 (i) ὑπρογένειαυ O u K S Q, Laur. 31,32 m², Z : ὑπρογέυεια V

r (praeter u) Mosq. 469 c (praeter Z) Et. Gen., γρ. L² : -γέυει᾽ Tr,

U post corr. : ὑπριγένειαυ X (αυ m² in ras.) : ὑπριγέυεια W Mosq.

469 post corr. et γρ. : ὑπριγενέα L Par. 2833 Vrat. Rehd. 35 :

ὑπρογεvῆ Schrevelius, -γευέα Werfer

Κυπρι- is incorrect; it may have been suggested by Κύπρις or

by other forms in -γέυεια (ἡρι-, 'Ιφι-, etc.). The ending has suf-

fered the same corruption as in 196 in part of the tradition, but is

correctly preserved by b. -γέυεια is half and half.

(ii) δ᾽ r K S Q Mosq. 470 Phillipps 11723 Senensis Et. Gen. : θ᾽

V W b, τ᾽ O in ras.: om. X post corr., U post corr., Tr Par. 2772

Laur. 31,32

δ᾽ is the more appropriate particle, especially after ἀτάρ. 196 may

have helped τɛ to come in. The omission of the particle is a metrical

expedient at least in Tr U, where ὑπρογέυει᾽ was written.

(iii) ὅτι γέυεστο c (praeter Vat. 1948 Z) : ὅτι γέυοιτο Vat. 2185 m²,

Mosq. 469 ante corr., Z : ὅτι |||||| O : ὅττε Vat. 1948

γένεστο is a banalization of the unfamiliar γέυοito. To others the

lack of augment suggested γέυοιτο (yénoito : yénito); they did not

understand the use of the optative in classical Greek. O and Vat.

1948, by suppressing the verb altogether, contrive to make the

line scan despite the initial corruption.

(iv) περικλύστω ἐνὶ κύπρω schol. Hom., Et. Magn. : πολυκλύστω

ἐνὶ κύπρω a (-κλείστω V) b (πολυρρύτω L²) K S Tr Q c (praeter Z),

ps.-Choricius, Et. Gen. : πολυκλύστω ἐνὶ πόντω r (γρ. κύπρω U),

116

γρ. L2: πολύχλυστω ἐνὶ πóτμω Vat. S. Pietro C 152: κύπρω ἐνὶ χαλ̃

Z, γρ. χύτρω ἐν[. . . U

The context guarantees Κύπρω. πóντω is a reminiscence of 189,

and πóτμω a further corruption of it. Κύπρω ἐνὶ χαλ̃ is a deliberate

change to make the verse scan after Κuπρογένην δ’ öττι γένoιτο.

It remains to choose between περι- and πολυ-χλυστoς. (For V’s

πολυχλείστω see on 189 (iii); the fact that the same manuscript is

involved is typical. The suprascript ρρu in L may be meant as a

gloss.) περίχλυστoς is particularly appropriate to an island, and is

twice elsewhere applied to Cyprus. πολύχλυστω has an obvious

origin in 189 (whence also πóντω in r). Illud in hoc abiturus erat, non hoc in illud.

200 (i) versum om. u: marg. rest. U Vat. 2185

(ii) ἣ δὲ : καὶ X2 O2, U (marg.) v. l., Tr

A conjecture based on mis-scansion of φιλομμυδέα.

(iii) φιλομμυδέα S : φιλομηδέα K Tr c (praeter Laur. 31.32) : φίλo-

μήδεα a r Vat. 2185 (marg.) L Par. 2833 Vrat. Rehd. 35 Q

Laur. 31.32: φιλομηδείαν O post corr.: φιλομηδεία, deinde φίλο[[μ]]-

μήδεα (εα post corr.) U (marg.) : φιλομήδεα superscr. μει Mosq.

469 : φιμήδεα Et. Gen. cod. A, φημιδέα B : φιλομμεidéα Bergk.

The appellation of Aphrodite that Hesiod must be referring

to is φιλομμεidéς (cf. 205 μειδήματα). Because he derives it from

Uranos’ μήδεα, the tradition has turned -μειδέα into -μυδέα or

(with the accent of the noun) -μήδεα. The suprascript μει in one of

the representatives of m will be due to conjecture rather than

tradition.

The simplification of the μμ to μ caused metrical difficulties.

S may have restored the gemination by conjecture (cf. on 195 (i)).

S was available to Lascaris as he copied U, and it was no doubt the

source of the marginal restoration in U in its uncorrected form.

The corrector of O fashioned the metrical but barbarous hemistich

καὶ φιλομηδείαν.

(iv) öττι X2 : öττ’ ἄν Vat. 2185 : δ’ αὖ öττι Tr : öτ’ αὖ Vat. 1948, öττ’

αὖ Z : öτε schol. Hephaest.

117

öττι, öττ' αὐ̆ (of which öττ' ἄν and öτ' αὐ̆ are corruptions), and δ'

αὐ̆ öτι represent further attempts to repair the metre. Only Triclinius

allows for a caesura; and his καì . . δὲ is impossible in early Greek.

öτε is an innocent variant for öτι of a common kind. It does not

suit the sense.

(v) μειδέων Casan. 356 schol. Hom.

This must somehow have been generated by the correct φιλομ-

μειδέα, either by assimilation when the latter stood in the text, or

by mistaking the reference of a marginal variant.

Apographa

Here are details of some apographa of manuscripts used above.

The Marcianus IX.6 and the Salmanticensis 243 were both

copied from O before it was corrected. No new errors were made

in lines 176–200.

Constantinopolitanus 31 was copied from X after its correction

by X². It has the following discrepancies from its model: 176 γαῖα

(corrected by the scribe); 181 ἐσσημένωσ (itacism); 187 θ' omitted,

but restored by the scribe; 189 πολεμηστόω (re-banalization of the

conjectural πoλεμ- in X).

Scorialensis Φ III 16 is a copy of U, with these divergences:

181 ἔρρεψε; 185 γεἰγαντας; 186 om.; 191 χρωός; 193 ἐπλετο (the

same corruption as in K Tr Q c; λ altered from ε); 194 αἰβoίη

(influence of ἔβη, ἐνί : εvii?).

The Barociani 60 and 109 were copied from the Scorialensis.

109 differs only in 181 ἧμεσε (as if from ἑμέω instead of ἀμάω).

60 has the banalization γαἰα in 176, and makes πoίη in 194 into a

dative.

Mosquensis 462 is a copy of K. Its only difference in this passage

is in 178, where λόγoισo was at first written for λoγέoισo but then

corrected.

Marcianus 480 is a copy of Tr. The only new error is πoυλὴν

for πoυλύν in 190. ἡν and υυ are easily confused in some hands,

including Triclinius'.

118

Atheniensis 2965 and Glasguensis Hunter. U. 6.11 are copied from Z. They agree in having τρέφθη in 198 (after ἐτρέφθη, 192) and in the banalizations ἔλαβεν 179 and ὅτ’ for ὅττι 200. In 178 Z had λοχίοισι with γρ. λοχέοισι m²; the Athens copy keeps to λοχίοισι, the Glasgow one has the ι altered to an ε by the original scribe. In 199 the Athens copy after correction and the Glasgow one have the ὅττι which Z’s reconstruction of the metre requires. The Atheniensis has the further miscopyings 193 ἔνθ’; 195 πόσσιν, and ὑπό ante corr.; 198 κυθήραν (cf. the note on the line, above); 199 κυπρογέννεια ante corr.

Athous 3868 is also descended from Z, but through a Vatican manuscript of which I have not got a collation. It diverges from Z as follows: 178 ἐκ om.; 179 σκαιῆ misplaced at the end of 178; δεξήτερῆ; 181 ἐσσυμένος ἦσε (haplography); 183 αἰματόεσσα; 184 πᾶσα; 185 ἐρυννύς κρατεράς; 186 λαμπομένᾱς ante corr. (from -ας endings in 185 and 187); 190 γόνων, λευχῶ; 193 πέρηθρον, ὕ post insertum (as in W).

Two lessons can be drawn from these data. First, there is no standard frequency of error. One scribe makes eight errors in a passage where another makes none. Second, these copies sometimes produce errors which coincide with ones known from other, independent manuscripts: 193 ἔπλετο Scorialensis; 178 λόχοιο Mosquensis 462; 198 κυθήραν Atheniensis; 193 πέρηθρον Athous. This is a serious reminder that the agreement of two manuscripts in individual corruptions does not always prove affinity.

2. ‘Hippocrates’, de morbo sacro 1, 29–44

The first part of De Morbo Sacro is transmitted in two independent manuscripts, Θ and M, of the tenth and eleventh centuries respectively. For details see H. Grensemann, Die hippokratische Schrift “Über die heilige Krankheit” (Berlin 1968). I have taken my information about readings from Grensemann’s edition.

119

εἶ γὰρ σελήνην τε καταίρειν καὶ ἥλιον ἀφανίζειν καὶ γειμῶνά τε

καὶ εὐδίαν ποιεῖν καὶ ὄμβρους καὶ αὐχμούς καὶ θάλασσαν ἄπορον

καὶ γῆν ἄφορον καὶ τἆλλα τὰ τοιοῦτρό ποτε πάντα ὑποδεδέγονται ἐπὶ-

σταθαι, εἴτε καὶ ἐκ τελετέων εἴτε καὶ ἐξ ἄλλης τινὸς γνώμης ἢ

5 μελέτης φασιν οἱ τε εἶναι, οἱ ταῦτα ἐπιτηδεύοντες δυσσεβεῖν ἔμοιγε

δοκέουσθαι καὶ Θεοὺς οὔτε εἶναι νομίζειν οὔτε ἰσχύειν οὐδέν, οὐδὲ εἰργε-

σθαι ἄν ποτε τῶν ἐσcháτων ποιοῦντες ἕνεκά γε Θεῶν, ὡς οὐ δεῖναι ἄρα

αὐτοῖς εἰσιν. εἶ γὰρ ἄνθρωπος μαγεύων τε καὶ Θoὺς σελήνην τε καταί-

ρῃσει καὶ ἥλιον ἀφανίσει καὶ γειμῶνα καὶ εὐδίαν ποιήσεται, οὐχ ἂν ἐγὼ

10 ἔτι θείον νομισάμην τούτων εἶναι οὐδὲν ἄλλα ἀνθρώπινον, εἶ δὲ τοῦ

θείου ἡ δύναμις ὑπ' ἀνθρώπου γνώμης κρατεῖται καὶ δεδούλωται.

ἴσως δὲ οὔ, τούτων ἔχει ταῦτα, ἀλλ' ἄνθρωποι βίου δεόμενοι πολλὰ

καὶ παντοῖα τεχνησάμενοι καὶ ποικίλoυσιν εἰς τε τἆλλα πάντα καὶ εἰς

τὴν νóυσον ταύτην, ἐκάστω εἴδει τοῦ παθὸς Θεῶν τὴν αἰτίαν προστι-

15 θέντες. τὸ γὰρ ἄλλα πλεονάκις γε μὴν ταῦτα μεμίμηνται.† ἢν μὲν

γὰρ αἱγα μιμήται χθὼν βρύχηται χθὼν τὰ δεξιὰ σπᾶται, Μητέρα Θεῶν

φασιν αἰτίαν εἶναι. τὴν δὲ ὀξύτερον καὶ ἐντονωτέρoν φθέγγηται, ἱππω

εἰχάζoυσί τε καὶ φασι Ποσειδέωνα αἴτιον εἶναι. τὴν δὲ καὶ τῆς χόπρου

παρίη, οἱα πολλάκις γίεται ὑπὸ τῆς νóυσου βιαζoμένων, 'Ἐνoδίης

20 θεοῦ πρόσκειται ἡ ἐπωνυμίη. τὴν δὲ πυχνόταρόν τε καὶ λεπτότατόν οἶoν

ὄρνιθες, 'Ἀπόλλων νόμιoς. τὴν δὲ ἄφρoν ἐξ τοῦ στόματoς ἀφῖη καὶ τοῖς

ποσί λαχτίζη, 'Ἄρης τὴν αἰτίαν ἔχει. ὅκοισι δὲ νυκτὸς δείματα παρί-

σται καὶ φόβοι καὶ παρανοίαι καὶ ἀναπηδήσιες ἐκ τῆς κλίνης καὶ φεύξεις ἔξω, 'Ἑκάτης

φασὶν εἶναι ἐπíβολος καὶ ἡρώων ἐφόδους.

25 καθαρμoὶ τε χρέονται καὶ ἐπῳδοὶ, καὶ ἄνωσoτάτoν τε καὶ ἀθεώ-

τατον ποίηγμα ποiéoυσιν ὡς ἔμοιγε δοκέει. καθαίρoυσί γὰρ τοὺς ἐχo-

μένους τῆ νóυσῳ αἱμάτι τε καὶ ἄλλoισι τοιούτοις ὥσπερ μίασμά τι

ἐχόντας ἢ ἀλαστόρας ἢ πεφαρμαγμένoυς ὑπ' ἀνθρώπων {ἢ τὶ ἔργον

ἀνóσιoν εἰργασμένoυς}. οὕς ἔχρην τὰντία τούτοις ποιεῖν, θύειν τε καὶ

30 εὔχεσθαι καὶ ἔς τά ἱρὰ φέροντας ἱκετεύειν τοὺς Θεoύς. νῦν δὲ τούτων

μὲν ποiéoυσιν οὐδέν, καθαίρoυσί δέ, καὶ τὰ μὲν τῶν καθαρμῶν γῆ

χρύπτουσι, τὰ δὲ ἔς θάλασσαν ἐμβάλλoυσιν, τὰ δὲ ἔς τὰ ὄρεα ἀποφέρoυσι

ὅττι μηδεὶς ἅψηται μηδὲ ἐμβήσεται· τὰ δὲ ἔχρην ἐς τὰ ἱρὰ φέρoντας

τῷ Θεῷ ἀπoδoῦναι, εἶ δὲ ὁ Θεὸς ἔστιν αἴτιoς. οὐ μέντoι ἔγωγε ἀξiῶ

35 ὑπὸ θεοῦ ἀνθρώπoυ σῶμα μιαίνεσθαι, τὸ ἐπικηρóτατoν ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀγno-

τάτou, ἀλλὰ χὴν συγχάννη ὑφ᾽ ἑτέρου μεμιγμένον ἢ τὶ πεπoνθός, ὑπὸ τoῦ θεoῦ καθαιρεῖσθαι αὐτὸ καὶ ἀγνιζεσθαι μᾶλλον ἢ μιαινεσθαι.

1 (i) τε prius om. Θ

Omission seems a likelier error than insertion here.

(ii) καθαιρεῖν scripsi : καθαιρεέιν M : κατάγειν Θ

καθαιρεῖν is the verb used of drawing down the moon in line 8 and in other classical references to the accomplishment (Aristoph. Nub. 750, Plat. Gorg. 513a). In a Hippocratic work it may have been written κατά-, which would help to account for the variant κατάγειν. The uncontracted spelling -έειν is common in manuscripts of Ionic prose and verse, but historically incorrect.

2/3 ἄπορον καὶ γὴν ἄφορον Lobeck, Aglaophamus i, 634 not. s : ἄφορον καὶ γὴν ΘM

Common sense commends the alteration. There are several ways of explaining the assumed corruption; for instance, ἄπορον might have been corrupted to ἄφορον by assimilation and the second ἄφορον then dropped out.

3 ἐπιδέχονται M

Anticipation of ἐπίστασθαι. Perhaps the Ionic -δέχονται should be written.

4 (i) τελετῶν Θ

Banalization.

(ii) ἢ M : καὶ Θ

The words are often confused, for graphical reasons, and here the preceding καὶ's may also have exercised an influence. ἢ suits the sense better.

5 (i) οἷόι τε εἰναι Ermerins, οἶόν τε εἰναι M : ταῦτα οἶόν τ᾽ εἰναι γινέσθαι Θ

The impersonal οἶόν τε goes ill with ἐξ ἧς γνώμης ἢ μελετής. φασιὺ οἷόι τε εἰναι suits it better and parallels ὑποδέχονται ἐπίστασθαι. After the initial corruption had occurred, the scribe of Θ or a predecessor expanded the phrase to clarify its apparent meaning.

121

(ii) Note that the comma before oi ταῦτα ἐπιτηδευόντες might instead be placed after it. But the phrase has more point if it is resumptive, summing up the lengthy protases.

6 οὐδὲ Wilamowitz ad Eur. Her. 1232 : οὔτ᾽ Θ, οὔτε M

The preceding οὔτε's are governed by βούλεσθαι, whereas εἰργε-

σθαι ἄν is parallel to it and cannot be attached by a third οὔτε.

Assimilative corruption.

7 (i) ἐσχάτω M, corr. M2

(ii) ἕνεκα γε θεῶν (omissis ὡς - εἰσίν) Wilamowitz, Gr. Lesebuch I, 272 : ἕνεκα γε πῶς οὐ δεινοί ἄρ᾽ αὐτοῖς εἰσίν M : ὡς οὐ δεινοί αὐτοῖς

ἔσονται Θ

The senseless ἕνεκα γε πῶς in M must be nearer the original reading than the version of Θ, which clearly represents an attempt to restore sense, with ἕνεκα γε eliminated and the ὡς-clause converted into a quite unsuitable final clause. If ἕνεκα γε is accepted as genuine (the only plausible origin for it), θεῶν or τῶν θεῶν is unavoidable. There is no reason to suspect the ὡς-clause, which is not in glossator's language.

8 (i) τε prius om. Θ

See on 1 (i).

(ii) καθαριήσει codd.

See on 1 (ii).

9 (i) ἀρχνεοι Θ

A double itacistic error, characteristic of this manuscript. The copyist may have felt that -οι was the sort of ending the ancients were liable to use after 'if'.

(ii) ἐγυγέ τι codd. : corr. Wilamowitz

The word division of the manuscripts is of course quite without authority. You do not say οὐδὲν τούτων τι θείον but οὐδὲν

τούτων θείον. The idiomatic ἔτι is perfect.

10 (i) οὐδὲν om. M

After τι the word seemed redundant.

(ii) ἀνθρώπινον εἰναι εἰ Θ

122

Not impossible, but inelegant, and probably due to a scribe

consciously or unconsciously clarifying to himself the construction

of ἀνθρωπίνου.

13 ἔσται τãλλα Θ : ἔσ τε ἄλλα M

ἔσται is merely Θ's careless orthography again; 'este', he said to

himself without thinking what the words were, and it went down

as if it were the future of εἰμί. The article with ἄλλα seems neces-

sary. It was easily lost after τε.

15 ἄλλα πλεονάκις γε μὴν Θ : ἕν ἄλλὰ πλεονάκις μὲν M

This sentence is so corrupt that it is no longer possible to see

even the general sense intended. γε μὴν and μὲν may both go

back to γε μὲν. If so, πλεονάκις begins a new main clause: 'but

more often they imitate these'. This may or may not be corrupt,

depending on what preceded. What follows suggests that 'these'

are various animals. See also below on 16 (ii).

Grensemann proposes, exempli gratia, οὐ γὰρ ἕνα ἀλλὰ πλέονας

ἐπαπτιῶntαι, supposing the verb to have been corrupted by the

following μιμῆται. But it is hard to see how πλέονας could have

become πλεονάκις (γε) μὴν (μὲν) ταũτα.

15/16 ἢν-μιμῆται om. Θ

Homoeoteleuton after μεμιμνηntαι.

16 (i) χὴν M : καὶ ἢν μὲν Θ

The true beginning of the sentence having dropped out, the

scribe instinctively put in μὲν here.

(ii) βρυχῆται Wilamowitz : βρύχονται codd. : βρυχῶνται Erotia-

nus? : fort. βρύχη

The parallel verbs are all in the singular (except for the variant

σπῶntαι), of a single patient, and this one surely was too. The

transmitted plural will be due to the preceding ones. But it is

surprising that μιμῆται was not affected first: possibly μεμιμνηntαι

was a misplaced correction of it, though μιμŵntαι would have

been the obvious conjecture. Erotian fr. 34 p. 109 Nachmanson

records βρυχŵntαι as a Hippocratic word, and there is a good

123

chance that he had this passage in mind. If so, the plural reading

goes back at least to the first century.

βρύγω or βρύχω is to gnash the teeth, βρυχάομαι is to roar. The

writer probably used one or other form, though there is some

evidence for the use of βρύχομαι in the middle (Liddell and Scott

s. v. βρυγάομαι at end), and Grensemann reads βρύχηται. Note

that βρύη would easily become βρύχηται (before becoming

βρύχονται) between μιμήται and σπάται.

(iii) σπῶται M

A natural assimilation to βρύχονται.

18 (i) Πoσιδέωνα Θ : Ποσειδῶνα M : corr. Regenbogen

An itacistic error in Θ, a banalization in M.

(ii) xóπρω τι M

Perhaps right, but may well be an addition to clarify the con-

struction. If it is right, its omission in Θ might go back to an

uncial copy (TIΠ-). Cf. 28/29 (ii).

19 (i) παρείη Θ

Another of this manuscript’s mis-spellings; cf. above on 13.

(ii) oïα scripsi : öσα Θ : δ M

The conjecture accounts for Θ’s impossible reading. δ in M may

be either a banalization of oïα or a conjecture for öσα.

(iii) ἐνοδίηι Θ : ἐνοδείης M

πρόσκειται may have wrongly suggested a dative.

20 (i) θeoũ Grensemann : oũ M : om. Θ

It is easy to delete the nonsensical oũ (so Θ), but we must ac-

count for its existence. Grensemann has recognized it for a cor-

ruption of ΘY, the nomen-sacrum abbreviation of θeoũ.

(ii) προσωνυμίη M

Unsuitable. Influence of πρόσκειται.

(iii) λεπτóτερον xαὶ πυχνóτερον M

Such variations are common in prose authors. There is nothing

to choose.

22 (i) ὀxóσοισι scripsi : ὀxóσα M : oïσι Θ

124

A similar case to 19 (ii). There are five other places in De Morbo Sacro where Θ has οἷσι, ὅσοι etc. and M ὀxóσοισι, ὀxóσοι (Grensemann, p. 53). This can only be the result of a systematic process on one side or the other. Here, ὀxóσοισι has been assimilated to the following noun.

(ii) δeíματα vvxτòς M

Cf. on 20 (iii).

24 'Exáτŋs: 'fortasse ἀνταĩον θeoũ' Grensemann

Erotian, in a group of entries in his Hippocratic glossary that come from De Morbo Sacro, has the following:

'Ἀνταĩον θeóν. τòν βλάβης ὑπονοoúμενον αἰτίoν ἔσεσθαι ἀνθρώποις. ἀνταĩον δὲ ἐxάλoυν oἱ παλαιoὶ τòν †τσωφρoνα (ὀλοφρoνα Welcker - diagnostic conjecture), ὡς καὶ Σoφοxλῆς ἐν Kλυταιμήστρᾳ λέγῶν

"τòνδ' ἀνταĩον περιidεóντ' oὐχ ὁρᾶτε" xαὶ "δεĩμα πρoσπαíοντ' ἀπ' ἀνταíας θeoũ" (frr. 334-5 Pearson).

The position of the entry suggests a location for the phrase between 1.10 ἀλαζóνες and 1.40 ἀλάστορας, and the passage about gods certainly offers a promising field in which to seek it. Since the ἀνταĩa θeός causes a δεĩμα in Sophocles, and elsewhere is equated with Hecate, Grensemann proposes (first in Hermes 93, 1965, 490) to place Erotian's ἀνταĩος θeós here, and to assume that 'Exáτŋs is a gloss.

Two objections may be made. One is that a masculine ἀνταĩος θeós was unlikely to be glossed by the name of a goddess. 'Eνοδίης θeoũ in 19 was much likelier to be glossed 'Exáτŋs. One might suppose that 'Exáτŋs was originally intended to refer to that, and accidentally displaced ἀνταíou θeoũ instead; but the second objection is more serious, that if Erotian's entry came from here it ought to be in the genitive or in the nominative. We should try to place it rather where there is room for an accusative. Since an ἀνταĩος θeós seems essentially to be one who is supplicated in adversity (ἱέσιος, Hesych. and Et. Magn. s. v. ἀνταĩa; ἀνταĩην εὐλιτάνευτος xαὶ εὐάντητος sch. Ap. Rhod. 1.1141), a suitable place would be in line 30 where we read τοùς θeoús, which could

125

be a banalization. It is true that this is just after ἁλάστορας (28),

which follows αὐταĩον θεόν in Erotian, but it is not the case that

strict order is preserved, as a glance at Nachmanson's edition

shows.

26 πρῆγμᾰ om. M

The word is clearly genuine. A case of simple omission, pos-

sibly helped by the fact that the next word begins with the same

letter.

27/28 αἱμασι καὶ τοῖσι ἄλλοισι τοῖσι τοιούτοιςi ὥσπερ μιάσμασι

ἔχοντας M

It is difficult to say anything for or against the articles with

ἄλλοισι τοιούτοις. But the Ionic -οιςι seems to have impressed

the scribe so much that he involuntarily wrote -σι for τi both

before and after. μιάσμασι is impossible and αἱμασι unlikely. For

the omission of τε compare 1 (i), 8 (i).

28 πεφαρμαχeυμένους Θ

φαρμάσσω and φαρμακεύω both existed in fifth-century Ionic,

but the former is slightly the difficilior lectio, cf. Hesych.

φαρμάσ-

σει· θεραπεύει, φαρμακεύει. φαρμάσσων· βάπτων, στομῶν, στομοποιῶν,

φαρμακεύων.

28/29 (i) ἢ τi ἔργον ἀνόσιον εἰργασμένους del. Regenbogen, Symbola

Hippocratea p. 3

Regenbogen points out that Erotian's explanation of ἀλάστορες

includes the alternative ἔνιoι δὲ τοὺς ἀνόσιόν τι καὶ μιάρὸν εἰργασ-

μένους. The phrase in our text is clearly an intrusive version of the

same interpretation. Such glosses are often introduced by ἢ ('in

other words'), and here the phrase beginning with ἢ seemed to

belong in the sentence.

(ii) τi ἔργον: πέργον Θ

An unintelligent uncial misreading; cf. on 18 (ii).

29 (i) τἀναντία M (ii) τούτων Θ

Difficult decisions. On the one hand one may argue that τἀναν-

τία τούτων is supported by De Aere Aquis Locis 5,1 τὸ ἐναντίον

126

τούτων ( the same writer as De Morbo Sacro); Herodotus 6,86α,1

τὰ ἐναντία τούτων, 109,6; 8,102,2; 9,104; and that τἀντία is a mere

haplography. On the other hand Herodotus can speak of a γνώμη

ἀντί τῇ προκειμένῃ (7,10,1), and while this is a less similar phrase,

it makes it hard to question the possibility of τὰ ἀντία τούτοισι:

ἐναντία and τούτων could both easily be understood as lectiones

faciliores. Nor can τἀντία τούτων or τἀντία τούτοισι confidently

be excluded.

(iii) θύειν om. Θ

The τε implies a verb linked more closely with εὔγεσθαι than

ποιεῖν can be.θύειν is ideal. Homoeoteleuton explains the omission.

30 τοὺς θεούς: fort. τὸν ἀνταῖον θεόν

See above on 24.

31 καθαρμάτων Jones

καθαρμός is usually the rite and κάθαρμα the concrete object of

it. The neuter τὰ μὲν ... τὰ δέ also favours Jones’s conjecture, and

it is palaeographically easy, since stems in -ματ- are often ab-

breviated in minuscule, καθαρμᾷ . On the other hand Herodotus

speaks of ‘making Athamas a καθαρμός’ (7,197,3), and Plut. de

curiositate 6 p. 518b has τὰ λύματα καὶ τοὺς καθαρμοὺς ἐκβάλλουσιν.

32 φέρουσι Θ

The sense is not affected. ἀπο- might in theory be an anticipa-

tion from ἀποδοῦναι, but it is more reasonable to regard it as the

original reading and φέρουσι as a simplification.

33 (i) ἱψῆται Θ

The product of uncertainty about classical syntax.

(ii) μηδὲν βήσεται Θ : μηδὲ ἐπιβήσεται M

The sense demands a μηδέ, and the reading of Θ evidently goes

back to μηδεμβήσεται. Between ἐμ- and ἐπι- there is not much to

choose, but ἐμ- (which perhaps carries a stronger implication of

involvement in what is trodden on) appears in connexion with

defilement in Heraclitus fr. 86 Marc. and Soph. OC 400.

34 (i) ὁ θεός Θ : θεός γε M : possis γε θεός

127

The articulated ó θɛóς matches the preceding τῷ θɛῷ. This correspondence may be due to the author; or on the other hand to a scribe, if the author meant 'render them to the god concerned, if a god is responsible'. εἰ δὴ ... γɛ seems to be unparalleled; εἰ δὴ γɛ would be paralleled by variants in Herodotus 7,10,1 and Plato Parm. 135 b, see Denniston, Greek Particles 247; and it would account for the presence of γɛ in M.

(ii) ἐγὼ θɛ

The writer always uses ἔγωγɛ in expressions of opinion except when he has enclitic forms of the pronoun (2,1 οὐδὲν τὶ μοι δοκɛῖ) or when there is a connective to be accommodated (1,10 ἐμοὶ δὲ δοκɛ́ουσιν). The examples may be found from GrenSemann's index. Θ's reading is a banalization paralleled at 17,2 (ἔγωγɛ ΘM: ἔγὼ C, a 15th-century manuscript which is of use later in the work).

35 ὑποxnρότατον M

There is no such word. The influence of one or more of the neighbouring ὑπό's is responsible.

36 (i) καὶ ἡν Θ

A merely orthographical variant. The author probably said χὴν (or χἀν) in reading out his work, in writing he may have put either.

(ii) ἐθἐλοι ἄν ante ὑπό τοῦ θɛοῦ habet M

The sentence was too long for the scribe. He did not realize that xαθαρɛσθαι ἄν etc. was still governed by ἄξιοω̃, and felt the need to supply another verb, which he did without much understanding of the sense.

3. Aesop. fab. 157 Perry; Xenophon, Memorabilia 1, 3, 8–9

These short items are included here not so much to illustrate the textual critic's way of working as to show how freely prose texts can be altered at the hands of copyists. In the Aesopic collections,

which were valued for their substance and not for any stylistic

reason, variations of wording from manuscript to manuscript are

the rule, though often not unconnected with corruption by mis-

reading. The fable of the fox and the goat may serve as an example.

It is transmitted in the following manuscripts1):

(sigla and groupings) G Pa Pc. Ca Mb. Pb Pd. Ma Mo

(century)

x xii xiv xiii xv xiii/xiv xv xv xv

Λύχος καὶ αἴξ

λύχος θεασάμενος αἴγα ἐπὶ τivos χρημνoῦ νeμoμἐνην, ἐπeιδὴ oὐχ

ἡδύνaτo αὐτῆς ἐφικέσθαι, κατατέρω παρήνει αὐτήν καταβῆναι, μὴ

καὶ πέση λαθoύσa, λέγων ὡς ἀμείνων ὁ παρ’ αὐτῷ λειμών καὶ ἡ πóα

σφóδρα εὐανθής. ἡ δὲ ἀπεκρίνaτο πρὸς αὐτóν: “ἄλλ’ oὐχ ἐμὲ ἐπὶ νoμήν

5 καλεῖς, αὐτὸς δὲ τρoφῆς ἀπορεῖς”.

oὔτω καὶ τῶν ἀνθρώπων οἱ κακοῦργoι ὅταν παρά τοῖς εἰδόσι

πoνηρεὐονται ἀνóνητοί τῶν τεχνaσμάτων γίνovται.

1 χρημνώδους ἄντρου G Pa Pc

The oldest group of manuscripts on the whole offer the better

text, but this cave is not very appropriate.

2 (i) κατατέρω παρήνει αὐτήν G: κάτω παρήνει αὐτήν Pa Pc: π. αὐ.

κατατέρω Mb Pb Pd Ma Mo, π. κατατέρω Ca

The placing of κατατέρω next to καταβῆναι in the later manu-

scripts represents a simplification of word order.

(ii) μὴ πῶς πέση Ca Mb

3 ὠς καὶ λειμῶνες καὶ πóα παρ’ αὐτῷ σφoδρoτάτη Mb et omisso ὠς

Ca Pd: ὠς καὶ λειμῶνες παρ’ αὐτῷ καὶ ἡ πóα φαιδρoτέρα Pb: ὠς

λειμῶνες παρ’ αὐτῷ καὶ πoλλoὶ σφoδρóτατοί Ma: ὠς λειμῶνες παρ’

αὐτῷ πoλλoὶ χλοερóτεροι Mo

When the readings are presented in this order (which happens

1. I have used Perry’s sigla, and constructed my apparatus from his edition and

Hausrath’s clumsier one.

129

to be chronological), it is not difficult to see their genetic relation-

ship. σφóδρα εὐαvθής was corrupted, probably through σφοδρoτέρα

(the scribe expecting another comparative), into σφοδρoτάτην.

Seeing the absurdity of 'violent' grass, another copyist emended

to φαιδροτέρα. In another branch of the tradition xαὶ πóα σφοδρο-

τάτην was corrupted into xαὶ πολλoὶ σφοδρóτατoι (Ma); Mo makes

sense of this by omitting xαὶ and substituting another adjective.

A complete stemma lectionum will look like this:

4 ἀπεxρíνατο πρὸς αὐτóν G Pa: ἀπεxρíνατο Pc: πρὸς αὐτὸν ἔφη cett.

5 (i) xαλεῖς ἀμεíνονα Pc

(ii) αὐτὸς δέ: ἀλλὰ αὐτὸς Pc: ἀλλὰ Ca Mb

6 xαxoῦργoι G Pa: xαxoῦργoι xαὶ πανoῦργoι Pc: πoνηρoὶ cett.

πoνηρoὶ comes from the following verb and is unlikely in con-

junction with it.

7 (i) πoρεúoνται Pc

(ii) ἀvóνητoι Ca Mb: ἀvóητoι G Pa Pd Ma Mo, ἀvoητά(τωv) Pb,

εὐvóητoι Pc

The sense guarantees ἀvóνητoι. Predictably it was mistaken for

the much commoner word ἀvóητoι. Pb's ἀvoητάτωv for ἀvóητoι

130

τῶν is a further misreading, probably influenced by τετυχαμάτων.

On the other hand, while α/ευ is a common graphic confusion (in early minuscule, particularly), Pc's reading looks like a conjecture, meaning 'inventive', which is not appropriate to the ending of the fable or to παρὰ τοῖς εἰδόσιv.

(iii) τῶv om. Ca

Haplography?

A manuscript tradition that does not display such variations as these offers less of a challenge to the critic, and he may be beguiled into excessive trust in its fidelity so long as sense and style seem to run smoothly. Take this passage from Xenophon, Memorabilia, 1,3,8–9:

ἀφροδισίων δὲ παρήνει τῶν χαλῶν ισχυρῶς ἀπέχεσθαι· οὐ γὰρ ἔφη ῥᾴδιον εἰναί τῶν τοιούτων ἁπτομένov σωφρονεῖv. ἄλλὰ καὶ Κριτόβουλον ποτε τὸν Κριτῶνος πυθόμενος ὅτι ἐφίλησε τὸν 'Aλκιβιάδου vἱὸν χαλὸν ὄvτα, παρὸντος τοῦ Κριτοβούλου ἠρέτο Ξενοφῶντα· εἰπε "μóι ἐφὴ "ὦ Ξενοφῶν, οὐ σὺ Κριτόβουλον ἐνóμιζες εἰναι τῶν σωφροvικῶν ἀνθρώπων μᾶλλον ἢ τῶν θρασεῶν καὶ τῶν προvετικῶν μᾶλλον ἢ τῶν ἀvoήτωv τε καὶ ῥιψοκιvδúvωv;"

Why should anyone doubt that this text given by the medieval manuscripts, and as far as σωφροvεῖv also by Stobaeus 3,17,43, is a faithful reproduction of what Xenophon wrote? Except that we happen to possess a fragment of a copy made about one century, instead of eight or sixteen centuries, after Xenophon, and it gives the text thus:

[ἀφροδισί]ωv δὲ παρήvει τoσ[ῶς τῶν χαλῶν ἀπ]έχεσ[θ]αι· οὐ γὰρ oἱ[ν τε ἔφη εἰvαι τὸν χα]λῶv ἁπτο[μένov σωφροvεῖv, πολλὰ δ]ὲ μᾶλλον [....... ........ .....].· ἡ] χάλεσθαι. [ἄλλὰ καὶ Κριτόβουλ]ον ποτε τὸν [Κριτῶνος πυθόμ]ενος ὅτι ἐφίλησεv [τὸν 'Aλκιβιάδου vἱὸν χ]αλὸν ὄvτα, [ἡρέτο Ξεvoφῶvτα· οὐ σὺ ἐ]vόμιζες εἰ[ναι τὸν Κριτόβουλοv τ]ῶν σωφρο[v- .....

(E. Siegmann, Literarische griechische Texte der Heidelberger Papyrussammlung, 1956, no. 206.) The version of the papyrus is not necessarily authentic in every detail. The phrases that it omits,

131

παρόντος τοῦ Κριτοβούλου and εἶπέ μοι ἔφη ὁ Ξενοφῶν, look genuine.

But so does the extra clause after σωφρονεῖν; it would be arbitrary

to dismiss the Ptolemaic text as aberrant and cling throughout to

the Byzantine one, which must after all have Ptolemaic ancestors.

However one judges the differences, the unity of the tradition

has been proved illusory. How many other variants may not have

been current in ancient copies of these lines?

4. Catullus 61, 189–228

The extant manuscripts, about 110 in number, all descend from

a single copy which was written perhaps in the ninth century,

discovered at Verona in the late 13th contury, and subsequently

lost. Only three of the whole swarm are primary witnesses, O G R,

all of the 14th century: the rest are derived from them. As far as

they are concerned, it is a closed recension, the stemma being:

at marite, ita me iuuent

caelites, nihilo minus

pulcher es, neque te Venus

neglegit. sed abit dies:

perge, ne remorare.

189 Ad maritum tamen iuuenem O G R (sc. V) : corr. Scaliger

The transmitted reading is unmetrical and nonsensical. caelites in

190 requires a construction; and what follows shows that the bride-

groom is being addressed, as in the preceding stanza. That leads

us to marite (as in 184), and it follows that ad conceals at (often

written ad in manuscripts and inscriptions in spite of the gram-

marians' rule given by Quintilian 1,7,5 and others; cf. below on

225). In the remainder, tamen iuuenem, Scaliger recognized a formula

like 66,18 ita me dii . . iuuerint, 97,1, ita me di ament. It is hard to

say exactly how the corruption came about. ad might have gen-

erated the accusatives, marita being read as maritū. Or iuuent

might first have been read as iuuenẽ and the corruption spread

back from it.

190 (i) Celites O

(ii) nichil ominus O : nichŏilo minus G

The words nibil and mibi are commonly written nichil and michi

in manuscripts. The scribe of G anticipated the ending and wrote

nicho, then realized his error and corrected it.

191 (i) Pulcre res V: corr. ‘alii’ ap. Robortellum

Again nonsense, though arranged in Latin words. It is clear from

the context that the groom is being complimented in the conven-

tional way. The Catullus manuscripts usually spell pulcer without

an h; this corruption may go back to either spelling. Pulcher was

the usual pronunciation in Catullus’ time (Cic. Orator 160), but

it could still be written pulcer, and the manuscript evidence may

indicate that he wrote it so, if it does not reflect a deliberate

archaizing policy by scribes of the imperial period.

(ii) nec V : corr. rec.

192 abiit V : corr. rec.

The same phrase (sed) abit dies has been used in lines 90, 105 and

112, and V has the same corruption each time. So has X in 63,38,

the only other place in Catullus where abit occurs, while in 63,30

one copy has abiit for adit.

193 rememorare X

Perhaps a mechanical dittography like ‘renonown’ (above, p. 24),

but more probably the thought of the word memorare, or an actual

variant, played a part; cf. Seneca, Quaest. nat. 2,55,4 remorari

Z : remorare HPG : memorare F : rememorare T. Note that the

impossible form was faithfully copied in both G and R.

133

non diu remoratus es :

iam uenis. bona te Venus

iúuerit, quoniam palam

quod cupis cupis et bonum

non abscondis amorem.

194–8 ante 189 habuit V : transp. Scaliger

The stanza goes well enough after 184–8 iam licet uenias etc., but

189–93 makes no sense afterwards: nihilo minus has no reference,

and ne remorare does not come well after non diu remoratus es.

Scaliger's transposition restores coherence between each of these

three stanzas and the one following it, and is unquestionably right.

194 remorata X : remota O corr. Calphurnius (ed. 1481)

V must have had -ta; and it will have had remorata, since if it had

had remota, that would also have appeared in X. remota is a second-

ary corruption in O, a quasi-haplography.

The true reading is obvious, but to scribes with little under-

standing of metre and a limited field of vision it was not quite

so obvious when the line immediately followed 188. It was the

sentence about the bride, no doubt, that generated the feminine

ending.

195 Iam uenus recc. duo

A nice example of assimilation.

196 Iuuerit rec. : Inuenerit V : Inuenit rec.

Of the two humanist emendations of V's impossible reading,

inuerit is far superior to inuenit from the point of view of the sense,

making an expression like those mentioned on 189. Once iu- was

read as the much commoner syllable in- (a very easy visual error),

the unrecognizable remainder -uerit might naturally be made into

-uenerit, especially with uenis directly above. Or inuenit may have

been written and then conflated with a correction.

197 cupis capis G, R m. rec.

This reading, which gives good sense, was easy to think of, and

it would be rash to assume that the agreement of G with a corrector

of R implies that it was a variant in X. cupis cupis must be treated

134

as the paradosis, and it is unexceptionable. The other must be

treated as an emendation, and as such it is a worthwhile one.

Corruption by assimilation would have been very easy.

198 abscondas V : corr. recc.

Grammar and metre impose the indicative. I cannot account for

the corruption, unless the a comes from the variant to the eleventh

letter of 197.

ille pulueris ericei

siderumque micantium

subducat numerum prius

qui nostri numerare uolunt

multa milia ludere.

The reader to whom the emendations so far discussed have appeared

simple now has the opportunity to try his own hand, unless he

remembers how this stanza reads in a modern text. I have given

it as it is transmitted, and postpone my discussion of it to the end

of the present section.

ludite ut lubet, et breui

líberos date. non decet

tam uetus sine líberís

nomen esse, sed indidem

semper ingenerari.

204 Et ludite et lubet V : corr. Calphurnius (ut), Partbenius

ut and et are often confused. In the present case assimilation

comes into play too. The superfluous et before ludite may come

from an instinctive tendency towards symmetry that turned A et

B et C into et A et B et C.

208 ingenerati O

A visual error.

Torquatus uolo paruulus

matris e gremio suae

porrigéns teneras manús

dulce rideat ad patrem

semihiante labello.

209 Torcutus O

This is the only place in the poem where the name appears, but there can be no doubt that Torquatus is the correct form of it. The copyist of O probably saw the a as a u, Torquutus.

210 et O

Another common confusion, due to abbreviation of et.

213 Sed mihi ante V (michi G) : corr. Scaliger

The nonsensical transmitted reading was easily cured once the word division was disregarded. The unusual long word had been seen as three much commoner words. G then modified the spelling of mibi, cf. on 190 (ii).

sit suo similis patri

215 Mánlio, et facile ínscieis

nóscitetur ab omnibus,

et pudicitiam suae

matris indicet ore.

214 simili rec. unus m. pr.

A typical assimilation-corruption.

215 (i) Maulio O : Mallio rec.

Maulius is not a Roman name, and clearly derives from a misreading of Manlio, which therefore stood in V. The name is also given in line 16, where V had Mallio. Mallius is a genuine name, often confused with Manlius, Manilius, etc. Corruption in either direction was easy, since Manlius was the better-known name, while Italian pronunciation tended towards Mallius. The former is made probable here by Torquatus in 209, for the Manlii Torquati are a well-attested family. The man who wrote Mallio no doubt remembered 16.

(ii) ut Bergk

A quite legitimate suggestion (cf. on 204).

(iii) facie Burmann

Another conjecture based not on any objection to the transmitted reading but on the discerning of its possible origin from some-

136

thing else. facie nóscitare is good Latin (Livy 22,6,3), but when we

have ore in the next clause it is labouring the point too much to

have facie as well; it adds nothing to the sense, whereas facile does

add a little.

(iv) insciis R m. rec., -eis Lachmann : insciens V: vix ínsolens

The infant's own ignorance is irrelevant, and insciens cannot be

right. insci(e)is adds point to 216: 'may he be recognized as his

father's son even by those who do not know'. The spelling -eis

was still in use in the late Republic, and there are distinct signs

of it in the manuscripts of Catullus and Lucretius. This is one

place where the assumption of its use helps to explain a postulated

corruption.

One might also think of insolens, 'though he is unfamiliar to

them', but I am not sure whether the adjective can be used in quite

that sense.

216 omnibus cum insciis commutat Dawes : obuleis Pleitner

217 (i) set Hand : sic Hermann

All these conjectures are attempts to eliminate the anomaly of

the short syllable at the end of 216. Synapheia prevails otherwise

throughout the poem, as in Catullus' other glyconic composition,

34: the last syllable of the line is genuinely long except at the end

of the stanza, and words may be elided at line-end or even broken

between lines. The material is sufficient to establish the rule, so

that the problem is a real one. Dawes's transposition is not very

felicitous; inscieis is better in the predicative position, the desired

emphasis being ab omnibus, etiam inscieis, not ab inscieis, et quidem

omnibus. Pleitner's obuleis, as an adjective in substantival use, could

hardly be qualified by another adjective such as inscieis. There

seems more hope in attacking et in 217, a word often involved in

corruption. Hand's set (i. e. sed) is contrary to the sense. Hermann's

sic is more suitable, only the clause is so nearly equivalent to the

two preceding that one hankers after a closer connexion. No con-

vincing solution seems yet to have been found, and as the scope

137

for emendation appears so limited, it may be that having stated

the anomaly we should with due reserve accept it.

217 (ii) pudiciciam O

ci and ti, being both pronounced tsi in the Middle Ages, are liable

to be interchanged. Hence such spellings as conditio for condicio,

nuncius for nuntius.

(iii) suam V : corr. Calphurnius: suo R corr.

The required sense is clear. It could be given by suo, but the

word-order is then involved, and the other correction is supported

by 58 a gremio suae | matris, 210 matris .. suae, 214 suo .. patri. The

corruption is a commonplace assimilation of endings.

218 iudicet O

The sense guarantees indicet. The easiest of graphical errors.

talis illius a bona

220 matre laus genus approbet

qualis unica ab optimá

matre Telemacho manet

fama Penelopeo.

219/220 bona matre/Laus V

A similar misdivision occurred at 58, a gremio suae matris/instead

of suae/matris. A scribe’s eye ran on from the adjective to the noun

that it heralded.

221 ab om. O

222 thelamacho O : theleamaco X

Uncertainty over aspiration (t/th, c/ch) manifests itself particu-

larly in Greek names. The variants in the second syllable point to

V’s having had thela- with a suprascript e over the a. The a was an

anticipation of the third vowel.

223 penelopeo O, penolopeo X : Penelopaeo Housman, J. Phil. 33,

1914,73

penolop- is the same kind of mistake as thelamacho.

A name in -η normally gives an adjective in -αĩος, and Housman

observes that the transmitted Penelopeus here and in Ovid Tr. 5,

138

14,36 may stand for -paeus. However, the question is not a simple one. We do not know that the adjective was ever used in Greek.

If Catullus first coined it, the question is what analogies were uppermost in his consciousness. It is not a question that we are well placed to answer; but it seems possible that the poetic form of the name itself, Πηνελόπεια, might have made Penelopeus sound right.

claudite óstia uirgines:

lusimus satis. at bonei

coniuges bene uiuite et

munere assiduo ualentem

exercete iuuentam.

224 hostia V

225 (i) ad V: expl. recc.

See on 189.

(ii) bonei O : bonei X (al. bonei R,G corr.)

V perhaps had bonei with a suprascript i that looked like an l to both copyists.

226 bone uite V : corr. R m. rec. : bone uitas, bonae uitae (partim sine et) recc.

No part of uita will fit here, and bene uiuite, giving a verb in parataxis with exercete, is a certain correction. Haplography produced uite, while bene was affected by bonei and became an adjective qualifying uit(a)e. Attempts were then made to accommodate the noun in the construction by making it uitas et ... iuuentam, or bonae uitae munere.

227 assidue V : corr. recc.

munere needs an adjective to give it meaning. -e may have been a mechanical assimilation to preceding endings.

228 Exercere O

An easy corruption in purely visual terms, but munere was probably a contributory factor. As a matter of method, one ought to consider the theoretical possibibility that exercere stood in V (-ete in

139

X being a natural correction) and that the corruption really lay elsewhere. Once the question is asked, the idea quickly suggests itself that ualentem, or ualetē, might conceal ualete. But while ualentem in this context might well become ualete, corruption in the opposite direction is difficult to imagine. An adjective with iuuentam is also supported to some extent by Phaedrus app. 12,4 et exercebat feruidam adulescentiam; Calpurnius Siculus 5,11 grauat potes exercere iuuentam.

Postponed discussion of 199-203:

The stanza does not make sense as it stands. The two last lines are unmetrical as well as syntactically incoherent, while ericei is a vox nihili. We must begin by ascertaining what sense was intended. Evidently something like ‘let him first reckon up the number of the sands and stars, who would count the myriad games of love’. Compare 7,3-12 (with 5,10 for milia multa). We proceed to detail.

199 ericei: an adjective qualifying pulueris seems to be required. aridi (Broukhusius) is palaeographically not hard, but very banal. Renaissance scholars more laudably sensed that a geographical term was wanted, and developed ericei through erit(h)ei into Erythrei. But then metre had to be mended by reducing pulueris to puluis, an impossible form of the genitive; in any case -ĕi cannot stand for -aei. These efforts were superseded when Heinsius perceived the simple equation, ericei = AERICI = AFRICI, confirmed absolutely by the parallel passage with its Libyssae harenae (7,3). Lachmann wrote Africei, and this spelling seems to have been used in at least one ancient text of Catullus. It may be a scribal archaism, or it may go back to the poet (cf. on 215 (iv), 225 (ii)): it had no etymological justification in the genitive singular as it had in the nominative and dative/ablative plural, and Lucilius condemned it, but the distinction in pronunciation disappeared and in Catullus’ time original ī was sometimes being written ei.

(200 micancium O: see on 217 (ii.).

202-3: uolunt is unmetrical, therefore corrupt; but it is the most

140

suitable verb. The only part of it that would scan is uolt. Since

ille . . subducat . . qui . . calls for a singular, that is clearly right. It

was read as uolT, which occurs as an abbreviation of uolunt.

ludere is also unmetrical. A noun in the genitive appears to be

required: ludi, or ludei. The ending was assimilated to numerare.

One word remains incongruous: nostri. The adjacent stanzas

show that Catullus means the love-play of the bridal pair: uestri

or nostri. If the word was written in full, the latter form was the

more easily misread; but it may have been represented by the

nomen-sacrum abbreviation ṅri, which often causes confusion.

How did you score? If you failed to see that the words ericei,

nostri, uolunt and ludere were corrupt, I see little hope for you as a

textual critic. If by your own unaided wit you restored uestri (or

uostri), uolt (or uult) and ludi (or ludei), you are competent. If you

restored Áfricei, you are brilliant.

5. Ovid, Amores 3, 15

Whereas the tradition of Catullus issues from a single source after

the late 13th century, that of Ovid ramifies throughout the

Middle Ages, and gives us better opportunities of observing what

liberties scribes can take with a text. As one might expect in the

circumstances, it is an open tradition. The four oldest and best

manuscripts of the Amores are R of the 9th century, P of the 9th

or 10th, and S Y of the 11th. For 3,15, however, the last poem of

the collection, neither R nor S is available; and P ends at line 8.

For the rest we are dependent upon Y and upon manuscripts of

later date (the oldest being of the 12th or 13th century), known

collectively as ω and going back to a source that is at least some-

times independent from that of R P S Y. I have used the sigla of

Kenney’s Oxford edition with the addition of Munari’s J and the

newly-respected Y (on which see Munari, Il Codice Hamilton 471

di Ovidio, Rome 1965). The sign ς means ‘some of the ω manu-

scripts’.

141

Quaere nouum uatem, tenerorum mater Amorum:

raditur haec elegis ultima meta meis;

quos ego composui Paeligni ruris alumnus,

nec me deliciae dedecuere meae.

{si quid id est, usque a proauis uetus ordinis heres,

non modo militiae turbine factus eques.}

Mantua Vergilio gaudet, Verona Catullo:

Paelignae dicar gloria gentis ego,

quam sua libertas ad honesta coegerat arma

cum timuit socias ánxia Roma manús;

atque aliquis spectáns hospes Sulmonis aquosi

moenia, quae campi iugera pauca tenent,

“quae tantum” dicet “potuistis ferre poetam,”

quantulacumque estis, uos ego magna uoco.”

culte puer, pueríque paréns Amathusia culti,

aurea de caMpo uellite signa meo;

corniger increpuit thyrso grauiore Lyaeus:

pulsanda est magnis area maior equis.

imbelles elegi, genialis Musa, ualete,

post mea mansurum fata superstes opus.

2 (i) traditur Y ω (P macula obscuratur) : corr. Heinsius

Traditur meta does not make sense. But meta is sound; Ovid uses

the same image in Ars Amat. 1,40; 2,426. The required sense for

the verb is that expressed in those passages by premere and terere,

and in Am. 3,2,12 by stringere. Heinsius saw what traditur pointed

to. A scribe had substituted a commoner word and one more

readily connected with elegi. The occurrence of tradita at the be-

ginning of a pentameter sixty lines earlier may have contributed.

(ii) haec Y ω (P obscuratur) : hic P a T

Hic may be only a conjecture in the two 13th-century manuscripts

from which it is quoted; if it were the only reading attested no

one would quarrel with it, but haec is hardly to be explained away

as a mechanical (even less as a deliberate) assimilation.

(iii) meta P Y ≃: nota H: c(h)arta ≃: cura P b

142

After the corruption of raditur, meta became puzzling, and charta, cura are deliberate substitutions by copyists; nota, however, looks like a visual corruption of meta.

5-6 (≃Trist. 4,10,7-8) post 10 habent Ea Ob : susp. J. Schrader, lib. emend. 205

The virtual repetition of a couplet in another poem is not in itself a sign of interpolation in one or other place, But when there is added to this the fact that it is not given by all manuscripts in the same position, and the fact that in the Tristia it sits well in an extended autobiographical passage, while here it interrupts concentration on Ovid's place of origin, and breaks the connexion between 4 and 7-8, then it certainly becomes worth considering the hypothesis that the lines are not genuine here but were added, at first in the margin, by someone who saw fit to append a detail from another autobiographical poem, much as another couplet from the Tristia (3,3,73-4) is added at the end of the elegy in one manuscript (X). The question is complicated by something else:

6 modo militiae turbine P Y ω : ego fortunae munere Ea Ob modo fortunae munere Ov. Trist.

The same manuscripts that have the couplet in a quite unsuitable place offer a major variant that agrees with the Tristia version (except for ego). The combination strongly suggests that in these manuscripts at any rate the couplet comes from a marginal quotation of the Tristia. But this need not mean that it does not belong in Am. 3,15, after verse 4: its presence there might itself prompt the marginal quotation of the parallel, and the reception of the latter into the text after 10 might be accompanied by the deletion of the original couplet after 4. So only the argument from inner coherence can be used against it; how much weight that carries, each reader will decide for himself, but it is enough for me.

Militiae turbine is a more precise and forceful phrase than fortunae munere. One can imagine copyists replacing it by the other, but not the contrary. So it is possible that Ovid wrote

143

militae turbine in the Tristia. The assumption is certainly helpful

if one regards the lines as an interpolation in the Amores.

8 gentis gloria dicar =

The transposition is of the common type that brings related

words together: Paelignae gentis, dicar ego. The metre is preserved;

scribes could cope with elegiacs as they could not (till the renais-

sance) with Catullus’ glyconics.

9 quam Ea Q : quem Y =

The antecedent is gentis, but scribes mistakenly took it to be

the more emphatic ego.

12 parua =

Perhaps influenced by 14. Pauca is supported by Fasti 3,192.

13 dicit, dicat =

Such variations are common. The subjunctive may have been

introduced in the belief that dicar in 8 was a subjunctive. It is

better taken as a future (cf. Hor. Carm. 2,20,3 ff.; 3,30,6 ff.), and

that confirms dicet here.

15 amathusia culti Y corr., ζ : amat uisia culti (c ex u facto) Y:

amathontia culta H: amat hostia cultum F, -us X: mihi tempore

longo cett.

Venus is clearly being addressed, and Amathusia culti, even if it

is an emendation, is indubitably right. The Greek name, as so

often, baffled the copyists. FX have dismembered it to form

Latin words, which however make nonsense. Someone else,

desiring sense, substituted mibi tempore longo. It is not very good

sense, and if this had been the only reading preserved, critics

would certainly have queried it. Others would have defended it

as perfectly Ovidian, pointing irrelevantly to other examples of

tempore longo in Ovid. But who could have guessed the true

reading?

18 est magnis : Haemoniis Merkel: Emathiis Martinon

There has been felt to be something flat about magnis, especially

with area maior. Merkel’s conjecture is based on Prop. 2,10,1–2,

144

sed tempus lustrare aliis Helicona choreis | et campum Haemonio iam

dare tempus equo. The assumed corruption would not be difficult:

a copyist expecting est after pulsanda might well see it (abbreviated)

in the e of emoniis, and the mysterious residue might well be made

into magnis. Martinon’s alternative has similar qualities, without

the advantage of the Propertian parallel. Haemoniis may be right;

at least it deserves a place in the apparatus. But magnis also has

point, and it is precisely the juxtaposition with maior that gives

it point. ‘Big horses must have a bigger space to gallop in’; in

other words, ‘I have great powers, I must exercise them on some-

thing more ambitious than elegy’.

19 Musa : turba N

The use of turba with an adjective as an appositional phrase

is a favourite mannerism of Ovid’s, as e.g. in Fasti 4,764 et ualeant

uigiles, prouida turba, canes. If it were the only reading transmitted

here, it would not be suspect. Given the much better supported

variant Musa, one may hesitate. It is not obvious why either

should have been replaced by the other.

post 20 sequitur sine interuallo in X Hic ego qui iaceo tenerorum

lusor amorum | Ingenio perii Naso poeta meo (Trist. 3,3,73 sq.),

in J Hic tua iam Naso deponit castra Cupido, | Hic dat militiis

ultima signa tuis.

Clearly neither couplet belongs here. They were added to

embellish the end of the book.

6. Apuleius (?), de Platone 2, 20

The somewhat corrupt tradition of this work rests on six manu-

scripts, BMVPLF. B is the oldest (11th century), and quite often

the only copy to preserve a true reading or a trace of it. The other

five are dated to about the 12th century. P L F derive from a

hyparchetype δ, which sometimes has a better text than B M V; in

certain cases this can be ascribed to emendation, but in others a

145

better tradition must be assumed. F is particularly given to

emendation itself, and the cases where it alone gives the right

reading are so to be accounted for. This behaviour by F often

leaves PL on their own; there are indications, however, that

their shared readings do not always go back to δ, but that there

was another intermediary. The two remaining copies MV also

derive from one exemplar, whose text generally resembled that

of B.

These facts can be accommodated in either of two stemmas:

Since δ generally offers a more intelligible text than MV, it is

more likely than MV to be the product of selection from alter-

native sources, which is a point in favour of the first stemma.

perfecte sapientem esse non posse dicit Plato nisi ceteris ingenio

praestet, †artibus et prudentiae partibus† absolutus atque †tenim

iam tum a pueris inbutus, factis congruentibus et dictis adsuetus,

purgata et efficata animi uoluptate, electis ex animo 〈de〉hinc

abstinentia atque patientia omnibusque doctrinis ex rerum scientia

eloquentiaque uenientibus. eum qui per haec profectus fidenti et

secur o gradu uirtutis uia graderetur, adeptum solidam uiuendi

rationem †repen†te fieri perfectum: hunc repente praeteriti futuri-

que aeui ultimas partes adtingere et esse quodammodo intem-

poralem. tum post hoc, uitiis exclusis insertisque et inmissis

〈uirtutibus〉, omnia quae ad beatam uitam ferunt non ex aliis

pendere nec ab aliis deferri sibi posse sed in sua manu esse sapiens

recte putat.quare nec in secundis rebus effer tur nec contrahitur

in aduersis, cum se ornamentis suis ita instr uctum sciat ut ab his

146

15 núllá ui segregetur. hunc talem non sólum ínferre sed ne referre quidem oportet iniuriam; non enim eam contumeliam putat quam inprobus faciat, sed eam non putat quam patientia firmiter toleret, qua〈ndo〉quidem naturae lege in animo eius sculptum sit quod nihil horum possit nocere sapienti quae opinantur ceteri mala esse.

2 (i) praestet δ: praestat BMV: ‘fort. praestet, 〈et〉’ Thomas

Grammar calls for the subjunctive; δ may have restored it by conjecture. The addition of et is of course possible, but there is nothing particular to be said in its favour.

(ii) artibus et prudentiae partibus: malim prudentiae artibus vel artibus et prudentia a parentibus

prudentiae partibus is an odd phrase, and the paronomasia with artibus uncharacteristic of the style. artes is corrupted to partes in 2,21 and perhaps 25, so that one possibility is that prudentiae artibus is the true reading (cf. 2,14 bonis artibus, 21, 22), artibus being a correction of partibus that entered the text and generated a connecting et. Or artibus may stand unqualified as in 2,26 easdem puerorum nutritiones, easdem uult esse artium disciplinas, followed by et prudentia a par〈en〉tibus, which would balance iam tum a pueris, though it would clash with the account given later of the communal upbringing of children (2,25–6, from the Republic).

(iii) enim iam: iis iam Scaliger: etiam Sinko: eximia 〈discipliná〉 (et statim pro tum) Novák: malim enixim iam

enim is impossible; there is no reason to suspect iam. For the sense one might expect something meaning ‘continuously’ from childhood, or ‘vigorously’. If enim is to be changed into an adverb, it is reasonable to look first for a suitable adverb in -im, and enixim suits both sense and palaeography. But it cannot be regarded as more than a guess.

3 (i) puero F

Classical Latin uses a puero when the subject is singular, a pueris when it is plural, but the plural here seems more likely to be a genuine variation of the idiom than the result of corruption. F’s reading will be a conscious or unconscious correction.

(ii) et dictis: edictis B

With edictis one of the passive participles must be taken after congruentibus: ‘accustomed to actions that agree with pronouncements’. This makes fair sense, but one expects the simple dictis, and the construction is unusually involuted. congruens is used absolutely in 2,7. 25, and factis et dictis may be supported by 2,5 non uerbis modo sed factis etiam secum et cum ceteris congruentem.

4 (i) efficata B, efficata M, aeffícata V : effecata F, effaecata edd.: effecta PL

δ must have had effecata, since F could hardly have arrived at it from effecta by conjecture; rather the exemplar of PL corrupted it into a more familiar word. The choice is basically between effec-, i.e. effaec-, and effic-. They are both the same word, -fic-showing the vocalization of an old compound, as in caedo/concido. It is paralleled by defícatam in Plautus, Most. 158, and is clearly the ‘difficilior et potior lectio’.

(ii) eiectis codd. (eiectis B) : corr. Oudendorp

The qualities named in the following words are certainly not meant to be cast out, and eiectis can only be defended by positing a lacuna (see below). In any case, purgation has been dealt with by the preceding phrase. The subscript points in B indicate a correction, and Oudendorp’s minute change gives the required antithesis; ex animo means of course ‘whole-heartedly’.

(iii) dehinc scripsi: hinc codd.: hinc <intemperantiá, illinc mollitiá, insertis> Novák

Novák’s insertion is one of several similar attempts to make sense at once of eiectis and of hinc. Hinc . illinc, however, is unconvincing; we would expect the nouns to be joined simply by et or atque. I propose dehinc, which occurs in 2,2.

5 (i) omnibusque Thomas : obque B δ, ob quae M: absque V

The paradosis is obque; V has tried to change it into a preposition suitable for a following ablative. Thomas is probably right to see in the meaningless word a corruption of ōīb;q, i.e. omnibusque. A more plausible correction will hardly be found.

148

(ii) doctrinas F

F did the opposite to V, and accommodated the case of the noun

to the apparent preposition.

6 hanc B : primum hoc deinde hec corr. m. rec.

8 (i) repente prius del. Novák : fort. sapientem

“Suddenly” seems out of place in a sentence describing steady

progress along the path of virtue, and the recurrence of the word

immediately in a more fitting place makes it intolerable. Deletion,

however, leaves the final phrase too short for the balance of the

sentence. Sapientem (cf. line 1) is only one possibility.

(ii) hunc Kirchhoff : hoc codd. : hoc est ed. Romana

The neuter pronoun does not make sense as the subject of ad-

tingere, nor can it be taken as an ablative without further alteration.

The editio princeps of 1469, by adding est, makes a facile con-

nexion between the infinitives and so bypasses the need for the

subject to be expressed again. But the equivalence implied by

hoc est is contrary to sense; so we need the subject after all, and

hunc (hũc) is the obvious correction.

(iii) repetente B, M in ras.

There is no sense to be seen in this (even with hóc), and it appears

to be a mere error.

(iv) praeteriti F : praeteritis cett.

The genitive is obviously right, and its restoration was well

within the capacity of the copyist of F. It is not clear what caused

the corruption.

9 quod ad modum temporale B (sed modo cooperat exarare) : quo-

dam modo intemporale cett. : corr. ed. Iuntina altera

The view of the sentence’s meaning which has led us to adopt

hunc also presupposes intemporalem. After hoc appeared it was

natural for -alé to become -ale. B read quoda somehow as quod ad,

and then made modo into modum so as to have an accusative.

The exemplar apparently lacked word division.

10 uitiis : ut iis B

149

A mindless misreading, again involving wrong division.

11 (i) uirtutibus vel bonis add. Thomas : incertisque etiam missis Purser

The transmitted text is clearly impossible. Purser’s conjecture is palaeographically ingenious, but insertis looks genuine as an antithesis to exclusis; cf. 1,2 ni Socrates humilitatem cupidinis ex eius mentibus expulisset et uerae laudis gloriam in eius animum inserere curásset. It follows that a noun such as uirtutibus is to be added.

(ii) omnibus F

This is another attempt to restore sense to the passage, but a short-sighted one, as scribes’ emendations so often are. It is soon seen that omnia quae etc. is the subject of pendere.

(iii) fuerunt BMVPL, fuerint F : corr. Stewechius

Even if ad beatam uitam esse were possible Latin, the perfect tense would be quite out of place. (F is emending again.) Fuerunt is good Latin, and virtually guaranteed by the Platonic passage that underlies this sentence, Menexenus 247e ὅτῳ γὰρ ἀνδρὶ εἰς ἑαυτόν ἀνήρτηται πάντα τὰ πρὸς εὐδαιμονίαν φέρωνται κτλ.

15 (i) ui BVF, M post corr. : uis L, M ante corr.: tenus P

The curious variant in P comes from misreading uī as tū or τñ, which are found as abbreviations of -tenus. The exemplar from which L P were copied thus had uis, and δ may have done, since F could easily have emended to ui. Decision between nominative and ablative depends on our judgment of the next variants.

(ii) segregetur δ: segregere B: segregare M V : segregari 〈possit〉 Novák

The lowest common ancestor of BMV will have had -ere, for it was natural for this to be made into -are, and it is nearer the reading of δ. In other words the agreement of B and δ makes segrege- the paradosis, and one should not build on the reading of MV as Novák does. -etur gives excellent sense (with ui) and a good clausula, while -ere makes no sense. Abbreviations were confused again, ~(tur) being read as ~(re).

17 sed eam quam patientia non Oudendorp : sed 〈et〉 eam non putat

quam patientia Rohde: sed patientia Thomas

Oudendorp felt that non enim eam .. sed eam ought to become a

positive statement of what the wise man does regard as contumelia.

But the context implies that there is nothing that provokes him

and that his patience does not tolerate. Rohde’s reading makes

supportable insults appear to be a separate category from those

offered by the inprobus, which is awkward. Thomas deletes eam

non putat quam, making it ‘the insult which the unrighteous man

offers but which endurance can support’. But it is hard to see why

the words inprobus faciat sed should have been included in the

proposition if it took that form. The transmitted text is better

than any of these attempts. It means, in paraphrase, ‘his attitude

is not “I am aggrieved by what is done to me wrongfully” but

rather “I am not aggrieved by what I can tolerate”’.

18 (i) quando Kroll : qua codd.

qua might be defended as meaning ‘according to that law of

nature by which’, but quidem does not go well with it, and a simpler

connexion would be more in keeping with the style of the work.

Hence Kroll’s excellent emendation. q

n

= quando, q

a = qua.

(ii) scultum B

Simplification of the consonant cluster, as in Italian scultura.

151

INDEX

Abbreviations 27f. 89f. 109.

141. 148. 150f.

accents 54f. 94f.

ancient critics 18. 19

anthologies 18

apparatus criticus 76. 85ff.

apographa 12. 33. 68. 86. 118 f.

archetype 32. 38. 41 f. 53

assimilative corruption 23 f.

108f. 111. 124. 134. 136. 138

asyndeton 22

attribution of speakers 55. 79

author's variants 15f.

banalization 22. 110. 116. 118.

121. 128

bibliographies 62ff. 73

bowdlerization 18

brackets 80f. 85

Christian interference 18

closed recension 14. 31 ff.

collating 63 ff.

commentaries, ancient 10. 16;

modern 76

computers 70ff.

contamination 12f. 35ff.

criteria of a true reading 48

defending the transmitted text 59

deletions by scribes 81 ; by

editors 80. 91

diagnostic conjectures 58

dialect forms introduced by

scribes 18f.

dialogue texts 55. 79

difficilior lectio 51. 126. 148

diplomatic transcript 94

dittography 24. 133

division of speakers 55. 79

editor's qualifications 62

elimination of manuscripts 33.

43

emendation 53ff.; by scribes 12.

19f. 22. 32. 50. 107 ff. 134f.

139. 143ff. 150

fragments, editions of 76. 95ff.

frequency of error 119

glosses 22f. 28. 58. 113. 125. 126

grammatical doctrines affect text

19

haplography 24. 139

hiatus in prose 21

homoearchon, homoeoteleuton

25

153

horizontal transmission 142; see contamination

hyparchetype 33. 75

indexes 98f. 102

inscriptions 80ff. 94f.

interpolation 16. 22f. 91. 115.

143f. 145

itacism 118. 122. 124

lacuna 57. 91 f.

lemma 10. 97

libraries 9. 65

locating corruption 57

manuscripts 9. 30; furnished with variants 12, 36f. 42

marginalia 12. 22f. 28

mental associations cause corruption 21. 107

metre 61. 82. 137; scribes’ knowledge of it 20. 21. 134.

144

multi-stage corruptions 29. 58

negative apparatus 8714

nomen-sacrum abbreviation

27f. 124. 141

numeration 76ff. 81. 85. 95ff.

99 f.

obeli 81

obscure words corrupted 26. 144

omissions 24. 42. 80. 91

open recension 14. 37ff.

orthography 18. 20. 54. 66. 69f.

86. 133. 137. 140

page-headings 76f.

palaeographical errors 25ff. 58f.

papyri 10. 50. 57. 59. 64. 74f.

80ff. 94f. 131f.

paradosis 53f.

phonetic errors 20f. 112. 116.

122f. 138

Planudes 19. 2015. 105

positive apparatus 8714

proarchetype 345

proper names corrupted 26;

interpolated 23. 56

prose rhythm 21

punctuation 54f. 57. 69; in the apparatus 88. 93

quotations 10f. 17f. 78f. 83f.

95f.

recensions, variant 16f. 70. 75f.

97

recentiores 50

reminiscence of another passage causes corruption 21

rubricators 20

saut du même au même 24

scholia 10. 17. 82f. 97f. 107

sigla 73ff. 90

simplification by scribes 22; of consonant clusters 21. 151. -

see banalization

spoonerisms 21

statistical methods 46f.

stemma 14; of variants 52f. 130

154

symbols used in editions 80ff. 93

taxonomy 46 f.

testimonia, see quotations

transpositions 28. 42. 80 f. 92.

134

Triclinius 20. 105. 108. 114f.

118

'unnecessary' conjectures 55 f.

unnecessary editions 61

variants, ancient 41 f.; author's

15 f.; systematic in certain

manuscripts 19. 125

vitium Byzantinum 21

vox nihili 555

watermarks 30

'weighing' manuscripts 49

word division 26. 54. 149 f.

word order subject to variation

21 f. 124. 129. 144

155