MOSCHION

The bilingual Greek-Demotic Stele of Moschion illustrates well the diverse audiences to which inscriptions containing wordplay were designed to speak. Even a literate person faced with this inscription would most likely have been able to read only one language and be reduced to viewing the other, while still recognizing that similar techniques of composition had been used. The Stele of Moschion (sometimes known as his ‘Magical Stele’; see Appendix 1) was originally set up at Sakha/Xois in the north-central Nile Delta. It is to be dated most probably to the late second to early third centuries c.e., although a late Ptolemaic or early Roman date has been proposed on the basis of the Demotic hand.Footnote ³ Its fragments are now housed in two separate collections: the lunette (30.5 × 91.5 cm) in Cairo, and the surviving portion of the main body (81 × 86 × 25 cm) in Berlin (JdE 63160 + Berl. 2135). Its dimensions were originally in the region of 122 × 91.5 cm. It is frustrating that Moschion does not give a patronymic, otherwise we might be able to identify him—evidently a man of sufficient means to commission the inscription—in the papyri. The text of the stele is a thanks-offering to Osiris for the healing of Moschion's foot-ailment, but presents an opportunity for a much more elaborate display of skill and piety than the simple dedication ‘hidden’ within the text:

The Greek texts in the lunette, the upper part of the stele, contain an address by Moschion to Osiris (A), an address by the stele to the reader/viewer (B), and Osiris’ acceptance of Moschion's dedication (C). The bulk of the lower part of the stele is occupied by two word squares, one in each script, ‘concealing’ the dedicatory phrases above, spelled out from the centre to the edges of the square by possible multiple routes (E, Demotic; D, Greek). Below this, but not replicating the symmetry of the upper portions, come texts where Moschion walks the reader/viewer through the word square, to find the message (G, Demotic; F, Greek); a fragmentary Demotic passage, apparently praising Osiris for Moschion's cure (H); a Greek acrostich in which the stele further guides the reader (I: Μοσχίωνος); a Demotic acrostich, with a similar sense to the Greek but with an additional reference to Osiris and the cure (J: MskyAn); and, at the foot, a repetition of Osiris’ words from the lunette (K = C).

Moschion's stele speaks in multiple voices and presents itself to multiple audiences, sometimes saying slightly different things. Demotic and Greek portions are each balanced by equivalents in the other language, involving fairly close but not verbatim translation. More explicitly, Moschion imagines his dedication proclaiming itself (A 4: κηρύσσων) to members of two communities. This is pitched to the two ethnolinguistic audiences in predictably different ways: to Hellenes and natives (A 3 Ἕλλησι καὶ ἐνδαπίοισιν) and to people of Kemy and Ionians (H 13 r nA rmt.w n Kmy nA Wynn). Unlike other well-known bilingual or multilingual inscriptions from Graeco-Roman Egypt—such as the Ptolemaic priestly decrees of Canopus and Memphis (the Rosetta Stone)—the languages are not arranged in a hierarchy from top to bottom. They are essentially complementary: the directions of the two scripts (Demotic R-L, Greek L-R) mean that both are read from the middle of the stone towards the outer edge, and thus neither may be assumed to hold priority in the view of the author or reader.

The stele also adopts and speaks as different personae: Moschion himself, Osiris graciously accepting the offering, and the stele describing Moschion's composition. All three voices make frequent and detailed reference to viewing and reading the texts, recognizing hidden messages, and uttering and listening to speech. Tactile elements are also present: the person who interacts with the stone is imagined tracing lines with their hand. The image is also, in some sense, of the stele as a closed door, against which the person who does not know the trick to opening it knocks in vain.

Moschion, of course, puts emphasis on his skill and hard work in putting together the texts and images, and the monumentality of the finished piece (A 1: μνήμη ‘monument’; A 2: στήλη ‘stele’). The persona of the Stele speaks of it as ‘elaborate’ (B 2: περίεργος), ‘not straightforward’ (B 3: κοὐχ ἁπλῆν), something which Moschion has not only built up through hard work (B 7: οὐ παχεῖ λόγωι πλάσας τι—like bricks in a wall?; B 8: καταπονήσας ‘labouring over’), but also trained himself to do (B 7: γυμνάσας δ’ ἑαυτὸν—note the gymnasial reference) ‘cunningly’ (B 10: πανούργως).

The result is ‘well-ordered’ (B 3: εὔθετον), in contrast to the intricacies concealed within it. Disorder is channelled and controlled. The pieces which have been skilfully put together have a pleasing aspect, and the instructions on finding the hidden message also use visual cues and imagine the investigator's eye moving across the inscription. Linearity is key, as is visibility: the alignment of the letters on the stone is reinforced with an incised grid. The word square is referred to in the Demotic as a ‘gaming board’ (G 1, G 3, G 8, G 12: Hbay). In the Greek, the term used is πλινθίς ‘square’ or ‘block’, to be rendered in this case as ‘chequer-board’ (A 4, F 1, F 3). Within the board there are many squares or compartments (G 6: itn.w; I 1: πολύχωρος ‘divided into many squares’). The order (F 10: τάξις) created by the horizontal and the vertical lines (A 4: σελίς; B 7: κανόνων; F 32: στοιχηδόν ‘in a row’) which run across (F 10: διατρέχουσαν) the stele is compared, in texts F and G, to irrigation channels flowing across rows of fruit-trees in an orchard from a central spring (F 6), just as the message ‘flows’ outwards in different directions from its beginning in the central letter (F 1: μέσην μέσης τῆς πλινθίδος τὴν χειραγωγὸν ἀρχὴν ‘taking your start in the middle of the middle of the chequerboard’) towards the edges of the square. Moschion is the labourer in the field (G 4: nti nA-nxt.f n bAk ‘skilled in work’; F 3: τῶν ἐμῶν πόνων; F 4: πολυπόνου), creating the channels and directing the water along them. The parallel Demotic text, G, presents this in a similar way to the Greek, retaining the irrigation metaphor. The reader must start in the middle (G 1: Hr-ib) to find the ‘beginning of the way’ (G 1, G 5, G11: HA.t n tA mi.t), then follow the path (G 2: ir.f myt; G 5: thm pAy.f wy). The movement of the sense of the letters is compared to water moving through the irrigation channels (G 6: lla ‘wanders’), but an Egyptian twist is added with the use of the Nilotic verbs ‘travel north, downstream’ (G 6: xty) and ‘travel south, upstream’ (G 6: xnt). The regularity and the linearity of the word square turn disorder into order, and the reader/viewer must be careful to keep their mind straight on the path and not go astray (I 9: ὀρθὸν ἔχηις νοῦν—of the acrostich). Disorder (G 8; cf. G 9: shy) is brought to harmonious completion (F 11: σύμφωνον ἀποτελεσμόν) as the sense of the words is spread out, gathered together and brought to the ends and corners of the square (G 10: iw.k gm=w iw.w sr iw.w twtw iw.w Aft; G 11: r nA qH.w nA Dq.w).

The acrostich in both scripts is repeated in a column before the beginning of the text. In the lunette, the acrostich is described as a παραστιχίς, literally ‘written at the side’ (B 9). Like the word square, the text itself makes play on linearity (I 3: στοιχεῖα ‘lines’; I 6: στίχων ‘lines’; I 9: ὀρθόν ‘straight’), but the reader/viewer is also invited to count up the letters and the lines: equal in number to the Muses (I 6: ἰσαρίθμων Πιερίσιν—i.e. nine), or in the Demotic mty.w n ipy.t ‘correct in number’ (H 15), followed by an unfortunate lacuna.

Those who wish to find out (B 9: τοῖς μαθεῖν θέλουσιν; G 2: tgtg m-sA=f ‘strive after it’) the ‘hidden’ messages are given copious—perhaps excessive—guidance, both in the layout of the texts themselves and in Moschion's and the Stele's instructions. The puzzle is presented as a piece of trickery—F 7: πανουργία. The texts flatter the clever person who understands,Footnote ⁴ and denigrate the ignorant person who is confused and does not.Footnote ⁵

The impressive appearance of the stele—its layout, grid pattern, variety of script and text unit—speaks for itself, but the texts too contain references to the stone and its texts being viewed, and to information being concealed and revealed. Osiris looks gladly and benevolently on the inscription and its maker: the first two lines of Greek texts C and K, Osiris’ direct speech, begin with the first-person present δέρκομαι ‘I gaze’ (C 1–2), and Osiris states that Moschion's piety has not gone unnoticed. These lines themselves refer back to, and confirm, the closing line of the Stele's introduction, in which the god is said to have gazed with pleasure on the dedication (B 18: ἡδέως δέδορκεν; cf. F 12). The Greek acrostich text I begins by addressing a disorientated reader: ‘Do not wonder at me if, with my many squares, unclear/is the appearance I bring to your eyes’ (I 1–4: μή με θαυμάσηις, εἰ πολύχωρος οὖσ’ ἄδηλον/ὄμμασιν φέρω φαντασίην). The message may be hidden (I 3: ἀποκρύψαι), but in the word square's ‘well-ordered appearance of lines’ (B 3: κανόνων εὔθετον ὄψιν) the message is revealed (B 10: ἐνεφάνισε; cf. G 12, J 3: krp; I 9: σημανεῖ). The Demotic guide, G, next instructs the reader to look in front of themselves (G 2: nw Xr-HA.v=k) on the path.

The texts of the inscription are in dialogue with each other—frequently addressing one another in the second person—and with the reader. Moschion speaks to his audience in the closing line of the Demotic acrostich: pA i.ir ir tA Hbay iw.f Dd ‘the one who has made the board says …’ (J 7). In the opening line of this same portion, Moschion and Osiris appear to address one another (J 1: m-Dr.v Dd.k … Dd.f). In the fragmentary Demotic text H, Moschion calls to Osiris (H 6: aS.y; cf. H 9). The same verb aS ‘say aloud, read’ is used in G 10 of the reader coming to the edges of the word square, speaking the hidden message. Some emphasis is placed on the verbal communication of the message of the text and its individual elements (B 7: παχεῖ λόγωι ‘weighty word’; B 10: ἔπος). Moschion, with his skill in composition, has persuaded the text itself to keep its silence (B 12: ἡσυχάζειν): it desires to speak only to a man of understanding (B 16: συνιέντι θέλω λέγειν τι), to whom it will eventually speak clearly (F 14: σαφῶς ἐρεῖς), and the one who does not understand can only mutely strike it in vain (B 16–17). The Demotic places slightly more emphasis—whether through design or convenience—on speaking than does the Greek. The message in the Demotic word square begins with the address ‘Listen to me, the one who says’ (E: sDm n=y pA nti Dd), followed by Moschion's direct speech about his cure. Demotic text G refers back to this, saying that its ‘voice’ will be proven correct (mty xrw=y), when the successful decipherer of the word square says aloud (Dd), in triumph, ‘A miracle of Osiris!’, the words contained in the message (G 14).

As I have already noted, the way in which the stele speaks clearly to the man of understanding is contrasted with the blunt desperation of the man who does not understand, striking it in vain. As well as the metaphorical aspect to such terms, the material, physical, tactile aspect of the inscription and the successful and unsuccessful ways of engaging with it are emphasized throughout. The reader is imagined as tracing the lines of text with their fingers.Footnote ⁶ The incised lines of the letters and grid (which may also have been painted) would, of course, have communicated the rhythm and regularity of the word square as effectively to one tracing their fingertips across it as to one looking at it. The reader grasps the beginning of the message (F 1-2: ἀρχήν/λαβών; G 1: TAy.v=f (n) HA.t n tA mi.t) and the passage through the text is described three times using the term χειραγωγία or χειραγωγός, literally ‘leading by the hand’ (F 1; B 11; I 8). The reader/feeler snips off each ‘easy to grasp’ letter (I 7: ἀποκνίσας εὐξύνετον γράμμ’ ἀφ’ ἑκάστου). The Demotic guide to the word square refers to ‘knowledge established in the hand’ (G 13: pA swn nti i (n)-Dr.v=f). All these references, I would suggest, indicate that the reading and the understanding of the inscription are imagined in tactile as well as in visual and oral/aural terms, and that the man who does not understand may equally be imagined hitting the stele with his hands in frustration at its silence.Footnote ⁷

THE FORMAT OF THE TEXT: READING, VIEWING AND UNDERSTANDING

The primary intended audience of the Stele of Moschion is composed of literates, whom the composer considers of an appropriate level of learning and sophistication to recognize and appreciate the wordplay. I do not contest this. But there is also an important visual aspect to the inscription which may have led to it being appreciated, to a much more limited extent, by those who could not fully read the inscription or have it read to them, and which certainly formed an important part of the impression these inscriptions gave to literates.

Moschion's bilingual stele, with its layout and wordplay, certainly presents an impressive aspect to both reader and viewer. The neat concentric diamonds of the word squares are attention-grabbing. The difference in scripts, and also their asymmetrical balance, too, is striking. The Demotic script does not lend itself particularly readily to being broken down into equally sized chunks of sound or meaning and set within an even grid in this way. This may suggest that the composer was thinking alphabetically—starting from the notion of a Greek word square and applying this model to the Demotic—but there are Egyptian hieroglyphic precedents. These include the ‘Crossword Stele’ of Paser (c.1150 b.c.e.), now in the British Museum, which contains three different hymns to the goddess Mut, to be read horizontally, vertically and around the side of the text.Footnote ⁸ Paser's word square stood within a grid, originally painted in blue.

Although it gives an appearance of order and regularity, and is aided by what Butz refers to as the ‘modular capacity of the Greek writing system’, a grid format, ironically, actually impedes readability: ‘Faced with a gridded field of letterforms, sometimes with, sometimes without punctuation, stoikhedon above all other forms of Greek inscription must usually be sounded out to become comprehensible, thus retaining orality as a strong component.’Footnote ⁹ As well as presenting potential challenges to a literate reader/viewer—forced to spell out the words in their head or aloud, in the manner of modern phonics techniques used in teaching students to read—which can be overcome by speaking the words aloud, the text also directly states that it is to be spoken, and presents its various portions as the ‘speech’ or dialogue of Moschion, Osiris and the stele itself.

It might therefore be the case that an inscription such as this could actually be more impressive to a viewer and a listener than to a reader, despite its double entendres and in-jokes. The literary quality of the texts themselves has certainly been contested.Footnote ¹⁰ An acrostich—especially one that is repeated in a separate column—is an excellent way of capturing a reader's interest and of forcing the composer's cleverness on their attention. It might also—intentionally or unintentionally—be distracting in some way, directing the reader's first impressions towards the clever wordplay rather than towards the perhaps not-very-good poem. A listener, however, may have sensed that it was being pitched ‘over his head’ without having the ability to evaluate its literary shortcomings (if any). The variation in metre, too, would have added to the aural experience. The (Greek) texts include different metres: elegiacs, iambic trimeters and Sotadics. A similar strategy is used by the authors of some of the comparative inscriptions discussed below.Footnote ¹¹ The presence of two languages in two scripts also raises the possibility that some reading the inscription or having it read to them may simultaneously have been aware of other readers and listeners appreciating the text in the other language. This impression—of the regular but incomprehensible word-pictures and riddling (to some incomprehensible) verses in a combination of metres—might in fact give to the illiterate viewer or listener a higher regard for Moschion's skill than to the literate one.

COMPARANDA

My focus is on the wordplay and letter-play of the different texts on the Stele of Moschion, and I do not intend to provide a full discussion of comparanda. I shall instead consider other references to the sensory aspects of appreciating (more specifically) an acrostich inscription in a number of Greek and Latin exemplars from Egypt, Libya and Arachosia. Although presented less elaborately (F 36: ποικίλως; a term also used by Maximus, I. Metr. 168, line 6), some of these use the same technique of repeating the acrostich in a separate column to make it more immediately recognizable. This is the case, for example, with the funerary stele of Sōphytos (Old Kandahar, ancient Alexandria in Arachosia, c. second century b.c.e.), where ‘through the son of Naratos’ appears in a column set to the left of the main inscription, which is itself clearly laid out, although not on a grid. Unlike some others, Sōphytos’ verse does not contain any in-jokes for the discerning reader who recognizes the acrostich, or any instructions as to how to do so, but, tellingly, his one reference to the text of the inscription itself is to oral performance rather than to written composition. He imagines the stele speaking (line 18: it is λάλον, ‘loquacious’), with the emphasis on its communication to its reader, not the process by which he wrote it.

A soldier in Roman service named Paccius Maximus left two acrostich inscriptions at the temple of Kalabsha in the frontier region between Egypt and Nubia (I. Metr. 168 and 169: Appendix 3). In the longest of these, Maximus describes a dream or vision (line 11: φαντασίης ὄναρ) he has had—this verse is therefore full of visual imagery quite apart from any reference to the visual aspect of the inscription itself. Maximus also goes to some effort to set a poetic scene of this temple on the Nile at the boundary between the Roman empire and its Nubian hinterland, and presents himself, in the opening line, as gazing upon the setting at Kalabsha: μακάριον ὅτ’ ἔβην ἠρεμίης τόπον ἐσαθρῆσαι, ‘When I had come to gaze on this blessed place of peace’. Like Moschion, he uses a gardening analogy for the composition of his poem (line 5: πόνον γεωργεῖν).

Orality is more obviously at play, and the poet's song is accompanied by rhythmic movement. Maximus presents his verse as a ‘song and dance number’, which he has composed and performed, before setting it down in written form (line 18: γραπτὸν ἀπὸ σοφῆς ἔπνευσα ψυχῆς μου νόημα, ‘I set down in written form the idea which my wise soul had inspired in me’), upon another's urging (line 22: μ’ ἔκλῃζεν τὸ σοφὸν πόημα λέξαι, ‘he urged me to speak my clever poem’). He has ‘composed a complex song’ (line 6: ποικίλον ἥρμοζον ἀοιδήν), a ‘festive dance’ which he ‘shakes out’ (line 9: ἄνθεμον ἀπετίναξα κῶμον). The performance is vividly described: ῥάβδῳ δέ τις οἷα κατὰ μέλος δέμας δονηθ̣είς, | ἀρμογὴν μέλει συνεργὸν ἐπεκάλουν χαράττειν̣, ‘Just as one moving his body in time to music beaten by a staff | I summoned rhythm as a partner for the inscription of my song’ (lines 19–20). The Muses—also name-dropped by Moschion, Faustinus and Sōphytos—sing (lines 8, 15–16), and the appearance of these specifically Greek patrons of the arts is no coincidence. Maximus is encouraged by the local god of the temple, Mandoulis, to ‘sing in sweet Greek verse’ (line 25: γλυκερὴν ἔσπευσεν ἐφ’ Ἑλλάδα μοῦσαν ἀεῖσαι), which is to ‘charm away the barbaric speech [NB not song or verse] of the Aethiopian’ (line 24: θέλγων βαρβαρικὴν λέξιν ἀπ’ Αἰθιόπων). The poem is full of further references to speaking words aloud, whether oracles (line 28: μαντικὰ πυθιόων) or simply addressing and naming (line 31: καλέουσί σε).

The performance at an end, Maximus concludes with its enshrinement in stone, on the god's command: τάδε σοι στείχοντα χαράσσειν μ’ αὐτὸς ἔλεξας | καὶ σοφὰ γράμματα πᾶσιν ἀθωπεύτως ἐσορᾶσθαι ‘you yourself told me to inscribe these clever words | in order that they may be viewed by all without flattery’ (lines 33–4). The imagined audience switches from seeing and hearing the dancing and singing, to viewing and reading the inscription which describes and transcribes it. The spoken word is made manifest in the written. The reader's final instruction is to give their attention to the twenty-two first letters, which make up the acrostich ([εἴκοσι] καὶ δυσ̣ὶ̣ τοῖς πρώτοις γράμμασι πειθόμενος).

Maximus’ other inscription (I. Metr. 169), although he begins by singing the praise of Apollo (line 1: σε ὑμνήσω), is more explicitly phrased as a riddle, a written puzzle rather than a recital seen and heard and only then set in stone. The inscription speaks of ‘recognizing’ the name of the writer (line 8: ἰ δεῖ (ἀνα)γνῶναι καὶ τοὔνομα τοῦ γράψαντος; line 11: τοῦ ἀναγνόντος). The acrostich in this case gives only the name Paccius, and Maximus is to be counted up, not read. ‘To find out the name of the one who wrote this’, the reader is told to ‘Count two times two hundred and twenty-one’. This is the sum of the numerical values of the Greek letters in the name ‘Maximus’.

Two other acrostich inscriptions from the same region are less obsessively focussed on the performance of the words or visual impact of the text itself. Also from Kalabsha, a Latin inscription by a man named Julius Faustinus (Appendix 4) contains the typical references to Apollo and the Muses (line 2), and speaks, poetically, of his verses as ‘songs’ (line 3: carmina). But Faustinus too is aware of the fact that stones can ‘speak’, and in a very literal sense. He refers to the Roman prefect Mamertinus hearing one of the Colossi of Memnon emit its well-known sound at sunrise (line 9: sacra Mamertino sonuerunt praeside sig[na). Stones are spoken of as breathing and greeting (line 8: spirent cautes ac salutent).

An unusual double, syllabic acrostich (Appendix 5) was left by a man named Catilius son of Nicanor at the temple of Philae, north of Kalabsha, who invites the reader to ‘stop and examine’ his inscription (line 2: ἀμπαύσας ἔγμαθε). His Greek verse spells out his name and patronymic, syllable by syllable, in the first syllables of each line (Ka-ti-li-, and so on), and in the first and last letters of each line (K…a–t…i, and so on). The viewer is helped in his task of piecing together the double message by the fact that the letters are aligned neatly on the stone. The verse is thought of as spoken aloud, and contains two levels of direct speech (line 5: φησί, ξένε; line 6: καιρὸν ἔχω φωνεῖν· χαίρετε πολλά, Φίλαι). Witty oblique reference is also made to the neat lines of the poem itself, and the lines of the acrostichs (line 1: τὸ εὐτέχνου φωτὸς στίχον; line 8: ἱστορικὴν σελίδα, a double entendre ‘historical/narrative piece’ vs ‘precise column’, both with implications of ‘investigation’). A reference to the visitor ‘seeing’ Nicanor and his family may also have a double meaning, referring to the viewing of the written names (line 9: ἰδὼν Νικάνορα καὶ γένος). Playful and teasing to the last, Catilius concludes: ‘I only have a “-ros” left! For this is the end’ (line 10), a tag destined to make those who have recognized the ‘line of a skilful mortal’ smile, and leave those who have not bemused.

Two other Latin acrostich inscriptions from the Roman garrison at Bu Njem, in Libya, are less skilful and less consciously audio-visual, but also indicate how a text might be used to paint a picture, how a reader/viewer might be guided towards recognizing an acrostich, and how oral performance or aural experience might be translated into written form.Footnote ¹² The Roman army is a possible linking factor in all these acrostich inscriptions: the mobility of troops may have led to the emulation of impressive word-play inscriptions seen elsewhere in the empire, such as at the garrison at Kalabsha. At Bu Njem, the verse of Q. Avidius Quintianus refers, in passing, to ‘praising aloud’ (line 16: laudem uoce reddere) and ‘bearing witness’ (line 18: protestare), but is more remarkable for its vivid imagining of the desert under the heat and the light of the sun. Porcius Iasucthan, one of the ancient world's minor poets, celebrates at length the labours of the garrison in working to reconstruct a monumental gate, which then adorns the camp like a ‘jewel set in gold’ (line 27). There is a slight possibility that Avidius’ celebration of honest hard work and military muscle here makes a Virgilian allusion.Footnote ¹³ Might this be the product of an exposure to Latin literature in written or oral form? Sōphytos, too, makes an indirect quotation from the Odyssey. These allusions, if they are there, are far from being any direct quotations, and might derive from literary phrases which had passed into common currency: ‘stories told around the camp fire’ at the desert camp. Typically military and workmanlike, Avidius then tells the reader: capita uersorum relegens adgnosce curantem, ‘reading the start of the verses, identify him who saw to it’ (line 32).