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PROBLEMS IN HORACE, EPODE 11*

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  02 September 2015

A.J. Woodman*
Affiliation:
University of Virginia
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Extract

Fraenkel dismissed Epode 11 with the statement that it ‘is an elegant piece of writing, but there is little real life in it’. By this ambiguously expressed comment he did not mean that the poem fails to ‘come alive’, but that it is artificial: he saw the poem as little more than an assembly of themes and motifs which recur in other genres, especially epigram and elegy. This has also been the perspective of some other twentieth-century scholars: Georg Luck's self-styled ‘interpretation’ of the poem consists largely of a numbered list of thirteen motifs which the epode has in common with elegy and which in Luck's opinion were derived by Horace from Gallus. Alessandro Barchiesi, on the other hand, capitalizes on the perceived elegiac motifs in order to see the poem as a dynamic fusion of elegy and iambus. As for commentators, although older representatives seem to have regarded Epode 11 as generally self-explanatory, the poem receives increasing attention from Cavarzere, Mankin and Watson, the last of whom originally discussed some of its problems in a paper published twenty years earlier. Yet various problems still remain, and in this paper I propose to re-examine lines 1–6 and 15–18 in the hope that a clearer view of the epode as a whole may emerge.

Type
Research Article
Copyright
Copyright © The Classical Association 2015 

Fraenkel dismissed Epode 11 with the statement that it ‘is an elegant piece of writing, but there is little real life in it’.Footnote 1 By this ambiguously expressed comment he did not mean that the poem fails to ‘come alive’, but that it is artificial: he saw the poem as little more than an assembly of themes and motifs which recur in other genres, especially epigram and elegy. This has also been the perspective of some other twentieth-century scholars: Georg Luck's self-styled ‘interpretation’ of the poem consists largely of a numbered list of thirteen motifs which the epode has in common with elegy and which in Luck's opinion were derived by Horace from Gallus.Footnote 2 Alessandro Barchiesi, on the other hand, capitalizes on the perceived elegiac motifs in order to see the poem as a dynamic fusion of elegy and iambus.Footnote 3 As for commentators, although older representatives seem to have regarded Epode 11 as generally self-explanatory,Footnote 4 the poem receives increasing attention from Cavarzere, Mankin and Watson,Footnote 5 the last of whom originally discussed some of its problems in a paper published twenty years earlier.Footnote 6 Yet various problems still remain,Footnote 7 and in this paper I propose to re-examine lines 1–6 and 15–18 in the hope that a clearer view of the epode as a whole may emerge.

*

Lines 1–6

Petti, nihil me sicut antea iuuat
scribere uersiculos amore percussum graui,
amore qui me praeter omnis expetit
mollibus in pueris aut in puellis urere.
hic tertius December ex quo destiti5
Inachia furere siluis honorem decutit.

According to Watson, the ‘conventional view’ of lines 1–2 is as follows: ‘“Pettius, I have no pleasure, as I did before, in composing verses, because I am smitten with a heavy love” (i.e. love robs me of my interest in composing).’Footnote 8 That is to say: iuuat means ‘please’ (OLD 5) rather than ‘help’ (OLD 3); with sicut antea we must supply iuuit; and the participle percussum has a causal force.Footnote 9 Wigodsky confirms that supplying iuuit is ‘natural in terms of Latin usage’ and agrees that this is the view of ‘almost all the commentators and other discussions’ of the epode.Footnote 10 The love by which Horace is currently smitten is that for the boy Lyciscus, to whom reference is made at the end of the poem (amor Lycisci me tenet, 24),Footnote 11 although it is clear from the earlier account of his affair with the girl Inachia (5–22) that he has been similarly smitten before.

To this interpretation Watson offers various objections, although they seem to be of questionable validity. For example, he says in his commentary that ‘it is difficult to believe that Horace, or any other ancient poet, could voice the sentiment that being in love inhibits the production of poetry’; yet twenty years earlier he had acknowledged that Epode 14 ‘is about Horace's inability to write “iambi” because of love’.Footnote 12 Since the latter remark contradicts the former, it is clear that both cannot be right. It will nevertheless be seen from both of these remarks that Watson, like other commentators (such as Gow), equates Horace's denial of pleasure (nihil me … iuuat) with a denial of ability, and this leads him to put forward another objection. Watson points to lines 11–12 of our epode, and especially to Horace's reference to his candidum … ingenium, as evidence that in his earlier love-affair with Inachia Horace had continued to write poetry, whereas on the conventional interpretation of lines 1–2 ‘love's onslaught has blotted out all interest in poetic composition’.Footnote 13 Watson therefore concludes that the conventional interpretation contradicts itself and that an alternative interpretation is required. He proposes the following:Footnote 14 ‘“Pettius, it does not please me as before to write verses when smitten with a heavy love” (i.e. I no longer get any pleasure from writing when I'm in love).’ The difference between these two interpretations is perhaps not expressed as clearly as it might be: Watson too assumes that iuuat means ‘please’ rather than ‘help’ and that with sicut antea we have to understand iuuit. The difference lies in his treating amore percussum graui as temporal rather than causal: on the conventional interpretation Horace used to take pleasure in writing poetry but does so no longer because he is in love, whereas on Watson's interpretation Horace was previously able to combine being in love with writing poetry but now being in love is preventing him from writing. Yet Watson's own reading is also open to objection. If Horace's current affair with Lyciscus is preventing him for the first time from writing poetry, we would expect that affair to be more serious than his previous affair with Inachia; yet it is the affair with Inachia which is given centre stage, treated at length and presented in the most desperate terms (5–22).

Mankin in his commentary paraphrases the epode quite differently from anything in Watson:

Pettius should know that Horace is in love again and that, just like the last time, he is unable to cure himself by writing poetry. It was three years ago that he finally got over Inachia … Now it is Lyciscus who possesses him, and his only hope of release is to transfer his desire to another girl or boy.

This paraphrase is very similar to that proposed by Cavarzere, and its rendering of the first two lines in particular is identical with that suggested by Barchiesi: ‘Pettio, non mi serve a niente—come già non mi era servito in passato—scrivere versi sotto l'urgenza dell'amore.’Footnote 15 Such renderings differ from the conventional interpretation in two crucial respects: they assume that iuuat means ‘help’ rather than ‘please’ and that with sicut antea we have to understand non iuuit rather than the positive iuuit. Barchiesi defends this latter point, which he emphasizes, by referring to Wigodsky: ‘Che ut antea possa riferirsi a un antecedente negativo è stato già dimostrato, in altro contesto, da Wigodsky.’ But Wigodsky's assembled evidence of Latin usage (this is the ‘altro contesto’ to which Barchiesi alludes) demonstrates exactly the opposite, and, as we have already seen (p. 2), his findings support the conventional interpretation of the lines: ‘It seems clear’, he says, ‘that where an elliptical comparison closely follows the negative word with a negative sentence, its normal and expected meaning is a contrasting positive.’Footnote 16

It is striking both that Mankin entirely omits lines 3–4 from his paraphrase and that Watson analyses lines 1–2 in isolation from the remainder of the sentence in which they occur. The result is that the opening sentence fails to be considered as a whole, yet lines 3–4 are inextricably linked to lines 1–2 by the epanalepsis amore … amore Footnote 17 and also have problems of their own. The natural way of translating amore percussum graui in line 2 is ‘smitten with a heavy love’, as Watson says, and the natural assumption, as we have seen, is that this is a reference to amor Lycisci in line 24, referring to the beloved on whom Horace is now doting. Yet the commentators are agreed that the repeated amore at the beginning of line 3 has a quite different reference, in that amor here is almost personified as the god of love.Footnote 18 How can these two quite different referents be reconciled? The answer is to assume that amor is personified on both occasions: ‘struck by unsparing Love, Love who seeks me out beyond all others …’ (for grauis applied to personified Amor, see Prop. 2.30.7–8).Footnote 19 Whether Horace imagines himself as being the victim of Love's arrow (for which percutio is a mot juste) or of Love's hammer (as in the famous fragment 413P of Anacreon) is unclear.Footnote 20 The absence of the preposition ab is perhaps accounted for by the ambiguous status of the noun amor, although such absences are in any case permitted in verse.Footnote 21

If line 2 does not refer to the amor Lycisci of line 24 but to a personified Amor, this has implications for the first couplet as a whole, which in my opinion has no specific reference at all but constitutes a generalization. I believe that the verb to be supplied with sicut antea is not iuuit, as normally assumed, but iuuat: ‘Pettius, when I have been struck by unsparing Love, I take no pleasure, as I do beforehand, in writing verses’ (antea, in other words, means ‘before I have been struck by unsparing Love’).Footnote 22 It will be noticed that the actual expression sicut antea iuuat is in fact present in line 1 and that, without the punctuation of modern editors, it is not until we reach the end of line 2 that we realize that iuuat is the main verb and that a repeated iuuat (as it were) has to be supplied with sicut antea. The situation that we are invited to imagine is a request from Pettius that Horace should write some uersiculi for him, but Horace explains that, when he is in love, he takes no pleasure in writing. Horace's explanation suggests, but falls short of, a refusal: after all, he has indeed written these uersiculi for his friend. The poem thus resembles, but is not identical with, such other recusationes as Catullus 65 and 68A.Footnote 23

If lines 1–2 are interpreted in this generalizing manner, they lead much more naturally into the second generalization, also expressed in the present tense, about boys and girls in lines 3–4: ‘Pettius, I derive no pleasure, as I do beforehand, in writing verses when I have been struck by unsparing Love, Love who seeks me out above all others for burning by tender boys or girls. Previously it was Inachia about whom I was crazy; now I'm in the grip of Lyciscus.’ The reference to Horace's passions for the girl Inachia and the boy Lyciscus serves as a chiastic illustration of the generalization with which the poem begins. It will be seen from this paraphrase that the argument proceeds smoothly if one passes directly from the past affair with Inachia (hic tertius December ex quo …, 5–6) to the present affair with Lyciscus (nunc …, 23–8): this suggests that the poem consists of a central parenthetical flashback (7–22) enclosed within an outer frame of six lines each (1–6 and 23–8),Footnote 24 this outer frame being marked by ring composition (2–3 Amore … Amore ~ 24 amor, 3 me ~ 24 me, 4 mollibus ~ 24 mollitie, 4 in pueris aut in puellis ~ 27–8 aut puellae … aut … pueri, 4 urere ~ 27 ardor, 6 Inachia ~ 23 quamlibet mulierculam). It is even possible that there is a further, but more allusive, link between honorem (6) and comam (28). The description of the woods’ foliage as their ‘glory’, as if describing the glorious tresses of a youth or girl (like Stat. Silv. 3.4.10 honorem), suggests that Horace is seeing the foliage in metaphorical terms, for which the more common expression is coma (OLD 3a). However that may be, the ring composition, as in Poem 8 of Catullus, symbolizes the vicious circle in which Horace finds himself (cf. 27–8).

The foregoing interpretation of lines 1–2 of the epode may perhaps be corroborated if we consider Horace's use of allusion. amore percussum is recognized as an allusion to the same phrase in the finale of Georgics 2, a famous passage to which Horace had alluded in Epode 2 and in which Virgil declares his allegiance to the Muses (475–6):

me uero primum dulces ante omnia Musae,
quarum sacra fero ingenti percussus amore.

The priority mentioned there (me … primum … ante omnia) perhaps influenced Horace's me praeter omnis in line 3. Commentators note that Virgil in his turn was alluding to an equally famous passage of Lucretius, where he too is talking about his commitment to poetry (1.922–7):

acri
percussit thyrso laudis spes magna meum cor
et simul incussit suauem mi in pectus amorem
Musarum, quo nunc instinctus mente uigenti ss925
auia Pieridum peragro loca nullius ante
trita solo;

but commentators fail to observe how the passage continues (1.927–8):

iuuat integros accedere fontis
atque haurire iuuatque nouos decerpere flores.

Since Lucretius repeats the verb iuuat, it is possible that Horace is looking beyond Virgil to Lucretius: for, on the interpretation suggested above, Horace too, as we have seen, repeats iuuat, although its occurrence after sicut has been elided. A ‘window reference’ of this type is certainly to be found in Horace's line 6, since siluis honorem decutit is recognized as being an allusion to an adjacent passage of Virgil's Georgics (frigidus et siluis Aquilo decussit honorem, 2.404), where Servius tells us that Virgil has taken the line from Varro of Atax (131H = 8C).Footnote 25

It is no coincidence that in the opening lines of the epode Horace's lack of pleasure in writing poetry is expressed by allusions to the very passages of Virgil and Lucretius where they voice their enthusiasm for writing poetry: this is a classic instance of oppositio in imitatione and we shall see that it is confirmed by one further allusion. Barchiesi, noting that scribere uersiculos at the beginning of line 2 constitutes a hemiepes, interprets the words in metapoetic terms as a reference to elegy: ‘“scrivere versi come gli elegiaci”, scrivere versi che hanno appunto questo ritmo’.Footnote 26 Yet scribere uersiculos, so far from referring to elegy, is an allusion to a well-known poem of Catullus, where the same two words comprise the first half of a hendecasyllabic line (50.4–5):Footnote 27

scribens uersiculos uterque nostrum
ludebat numero modo hoc modo illoc.

Catullus in this famous poem recalls a day that he and Licinius Calvus had spent together, writing poetry ‘sometimes in this metre and sometimes in that’, joking and drinking and enjoying themselves so much that afterwards Catullus could take no pleasure in food until he could be with Calvus again (ut nec me miserum cibus iuuaret, 9). It is the two poets’ pleasure in composing verses to which Horace alludes with his statement of the opposite, albeit in a poem which itself happens to combine, as it were, two different metres—the iambic and the dactylic, which constitute the Third Archilochian metrical scheme.Footnote 28

*

Lines 15–18

‘quodsi meis inaestuet praecordiis 15
libera bilis, ut haec ingrata uentis diuidat
fomenta uolnus nil malum leuantia,
desinet inparibus certare summotus pudor.’

16 adhuc Campbell, Shackleton Bailey uentus Broukhusius (uenus A)

diuidam Schütz, Shackleton Bailey 17–18 leuantia et … desinat … commotus

Shackleton Bailey dubitanter 18 furor Mankin

These exceptionally difficult lines comprise a conditional sentence in which the protasis (15–16a) is separated from the apodosis (18) by an intervening consecutive clause (16b–17). To start with the last of these elements: the consecutive clause exhibits the expression uentis diuidat, which is universally assumed to refer to the common motif of ‘scattering on the wind’. There are at least two problems with this assumption. (1) Being scattered on the wind is, as Mankin remarks, ‘a peculiar fate’ for poultices, since in Latin literature the usual things scattered on the wind are words.Footnote 29 (2) diuidere does not mean ‘scatter’.Footnote 30 The first of these problems can be avoided if we take haec ingrata together to mean ‘these unwelcome words’ (as at Prop. 2.34.81 non tamen haec ulli uenient ingrata legenti), in which case the reference will most naturally be to the words which the intoxicated Horace has just uttered to his friend in lines 11–12 (contrane … ingenium); fomenta … leuantia will be in apposition,Footnote 31 in the same way as dulcibus adloquiis is in apposition to uino cantuque at 13.17–18. But the second problem is insurmountable and seems fatal, as is clear from the contorted way in which its explanation is attempted: ‘ut uentis diripienda tradam, h.e. missam faciam’ (Doering [n. 4], ad loc.).

What of the relationship between the protasis and the result clause? How is the ut-clause the result of the si-clause? Watson in his commentary repeats word for word the paraphrase of the lines which he had offered twenty years previously:Footnote 32

But if the anger Horace feels at Inachia's cruelty could be given free rein i.e. if he could break with her, so as to dispense with—because they would no longer be necessary—the palliatives with which he tries to ease the pain of unhappy love …

This is very odd indeed: Watson seems to have transposed to the protasis the break with Inachia which Horace reserves for the apodosis (desinet … certare): hence the result clause follows that which it should precede. Mankin offers a much closer and more exact translation:

But if (my) anger should boil forth free in my vitals, so that it scatters to the winds these unpleasant (or vain, or unappreciated) applications in no way easing (my) awful wound …

It is, however, impossible to know what this translation means; it also highlights a further problem with the expression uentis diuidat: it is not at all clear how anything can be scattered on the winds by an anger which is boiling within Horace's vitals.

The incongruity between internal anger and exposure to the open air is emphasized by the medical language. It is not simply a question of the individual terms praecordiis, bilis, fomenta, uulnus and leuantia, to which many of the commentators point, but also of their coherence: uolnus … malum, an expression used again by Propertius (2.25.46), is the exact equivalent of our English ‘a bad wound’ (e.g. Celsus, Med. 5.26.3B malum uulnus est; 5.26.27A si liuidus aut pallidus aut uarius aut niger est, scire licet malum uulnus esse); and fomenta are a recognized method of treating wounds (Celsus, Med. 5.26.27C; Tac. Ann. 15.55.3 fomenta uulneribus; metaphorical at, for instance, Ov. Pont. 2.3.94 fomentisque iuuas uulnera nostra tuis; Stat. Silv. 5.5.42–3 and Gibson ad loc.). The commentators do not, however, note the additional consideration that lines 15–16 are remarkably close to a fragment of the Greek philosopher Anaxagoras, who said that bile (χολή) ‘was the cause of acute disorders because overflowing [cf. libera] it spurted [cf. inaestuet] to the lung and the veins and the ribs [cf. praecordiis]’.Footnote 33 In fact, the two texts are so close that it seems very likely that Horace had in mind, if not this exact passage of Anaxagoras, then at least the general belief which lies behind it;Footnote 34 indeed, the reference to bile may suggest a belief similar to that of the Syracusan physician Menecrates, who thought that the body is composed of blood, bile, breath and phlegm, and that a healthy body depends on the harmonious relationship between them. At any rate, the closeness of Horace's words to those of Anaxagoras makes it all the more improbable that the consecutive clause has anything to do with the motif of scattering on the wind. We should expect the clause rather to refer to the production of some internal disorder, the result of the overflow of bile, as mentioned in the fragment of Anaxagoras.

As Horace implies elsewhere in the Epodes (17.26 leuare tenta spiritu praecordia, ‘to alleviate tight praecordia by breathing’), the praecordia were associated with breathing and the capacity to draw breath (Livy 42.16.2 spiritu remanente in praecordiis; Celsus, Med. 4.8.2, 4.14.1). It follows that, if bile overflows into one's praecordia, it affects one's ability to breathe and hence that breathlessness is one of the ‘acute disorders’ resulting from an overflow of bile. The question therefore is whether the ut-clause, as transmitted, is capable of referring to such a disorder. Now in Greek πνεῦμα can be used both of the wind and of one's breath, whereas the secondary meaning of uentus is usually of intestinal wind:Footnote 35 its application to breath is perhaps restricted to a passage of Persius (3.27 an deceat pulmonem rumpere uentis …?).Footnote 36 Yet this may be one of Persius’ many imitations of Horace, who in his turn is perhaps imitating the Greek use of πνεῦμα.Footnote 37 And, even if the latter imitation is regarded as implausible, the fact that diuidere + abl. means ‘to separate X from Y’ (OLD 1b) suggests that the paradosis may mean: ‘But, if unchecked bile were to surge into my praecordia so as to cut off these unwelcome words of mine from my air-supply …’. Thus the overflow of bile disrupts Horace's breathing (he is ‘winded’), which in turn affects his ability to utter the kind of complaint that is voiced in lines 11–12a.Footnote 38 This interpretation illustrates the figure hypallage, since strictly it is the air-supply which is cut off from Horace's words, not the other way round: in the same way Virgil says cum frigida mors anima seduxerit artus (Aen. 4.385), when strictly, as Servius remarks, he should have said animam artubus seduxerit.Footnote 39 Some readers, however, may prefer to adopt Broukhusius’ emendation uentus and to interpret the lines as follows: ‘But, if unchecked bile were to surge into my praecordia so that my air-supply cut off these unwelcome words of mine, poultices which do nothing to relieve a bad wound, …’. Whichever interpretation is preferred, it is perhaps significant that the complaint of 11–12a is itself introduced by a reference to breathing (latere petitus imo spiritus, 10), almost as if the breathing and the complaint were identical with each other—a groan (cf. Mart. 2.26.1 querulum spirat).

If a surge of bile were so excessive as to render Horace speechless, what then? The apodosis in line 18 has caused an enormous amount of trouble. Shackleton Bailey proposed commotus for summotus, and Parker devoted an entire article to support Mankin's proposal of furor for pudor. Footnote 40 Parker's argument was addressed to ‘two main schools of thought, corresponding to the two main senses of pudor: as Scham “a feeling of shame, a sense of embarrassment,” or as Schande “a source of shame, a reason for embarrassment”’. But pudor can also have the sense of ‘honour’ or ‘self-respect’ (OLD 3), and this is surely the meaning intended here.Footnote 41 The argument of lines 11–18 is as follows: ‘My self-respect (pudor, 18) had been compelling me to compete for Inachia's affection (certare, 18), and, whenever drink prompted the revelation of mysteries, I would complain tearfully to you, saying “To think that the genuine talent of a pauper stood no chance against wealth!” (11–14). These words were unwelcome to me (haec ingrata, 16), ineffectual poultices for a bad wound (17); but, I said to you, “If my bile were to overflow, cut off my breath and thus stop me uttering words like these (15–16), my anger would be so strong that it would displace my self-respect (summotus, 18) and I would cease to compete with inferior rivals (desinet, 18)”’. That an impoverished poet stands no chance against a rich rival is of course no mystery at all, but Horace's infatuation (furere, 6) had blinded him to the truth; it was only when he was intoxicated that the truth came to him, and, not liking it, he wanted his competitive compulsion to be replaced by anger.

Horace's recollection of his drunken conversation with Pettius occupies the exact centre of the poem (11–18), and is framed by four lines of introduction (7–10) and four of conclusion (19–22).Footnote 42 These two quatrains are then picked up chiastically by the only two elements of lines 23–8, which played no part in the ring composition described earlier (above, p. 5): the ‘frank advice’ of Horace's friends (amicorum … | libera consilia, 25–6) corresponds to Pettius’ instruction that Horace should go straight home after the party (iussus abire domum, 20), while the ‘serious insults’ (contumeliae graues, 26) look back to the shame of his being the talk of the town (per urbem … | fabula quanta fui, 7–8). As these further rings emphasize, Horace's current infatuation with Lyciscus is an action replay of his old infatuation with Inachia, and, if he were to receive the same advice and insults once again, they would have no more effect now than they did in the past. His only escape will be some other girl or boy.Footnote 43

Footnotes

*

For reading and commenting on earlier drafts of this paper I am most grateful to S. Bartera, E. Courtney and I.M.Le M. Du Quesnay, none of whom should be assumed to agree with it.

References

1 E. Fraenkel, Horace (Oxford, 1957), 67.

2 Luck, G., ‘An interpretation of Horace's eleventh epode’, ICS 1 (1976), 122–6Google Scholar. Derivation from Gallus would be one possible explanation for the three verbal similarities with Book 2 of Propertius which will be mentioned in the course of our discussion.

3 A. Barchiesi, ‘Alcune difficoltà nella carriera di un poeta giambico. Giambo ed elegia nell'Epodo XI’, in R. Cortés Tovar and J.C. Fernández Corte (edd.), Bimilenario de Horacio (Salamanca, 1994), 127–38. I am most grateful to CQ's anonymous referee for drawing my attention to this discussion and for other comments.

4 See e.g. F.G. Doering (Oxford, 1838), Th. Obbarius (Jena, 1848),  J.G. Orelli, G. Baiter and W. Hirschfelder (Berlin, 1886), J. Gow (Cambridge, 1896), E.C. Wickham (Oxford, 1896),  A. Kiessling and R. Heinze (Zurich and Berlin, 196411).

5 A. Cavarzere, Orazio: Il libro degli Epodi (Venice, 1992); D. Mankin, Horace Epodes (Cambridge, 1995); L.C. Watson, A Commentary on Horace's Epodes (Oxford, 2003). A line-by-line discussion of the poem is provided by V. Grassmann, Die erotischen Epoden des Horaz (Munich, 1966), 90–122.

6 Watson, L.C., ‘Problems in Epode 11’, CQ 33 (1983), 229–38CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

7 There is nothing relevant to these problems in the latest discussion of the epode ( Cowan, R., ‘Alas, poor Io! Bilingual wordplay in Horace Epode 11’, Mnemosyne 65 [2012], 753–63CrossRefGoogle Scholar) or in the brief remarks of T.S. Johnson, Horace's Iambic Criticism: Casting Blame (Leiden and Boston, 2012), 138–41.

8 Watson (n. 5), 359 = (n. 6), 230.

9 So e.g. N. Rudd in the Loeb edition (Horace: Odes and Epodes [Cambridge, MA and London, 2004]): ‘Dear Pettius, I get no pleasure from writing little verses, as I did before, because …’.

10 Wigodsky, M., ‘Horace's miser (S. 1 1 108) and Aristotelian self-love’, SO 55 (1980), 47–8CrossRefGoogle Scholar (an excursus on lines 1–2 of Epode 11). In fact, numerous commentators make no comment at all on sicut antea (so e.g. Orelli, Wickham, Gow, Kiessling-Heinze; above, n. 4).

11 So e.g. Orelli (n. 4).

12 Watson (n. 5), 359; (n. 6), 230.

13 Watson (n. 5), 359 = (n. 6), 229–30. Whether ingenium in fact means ‘poetic talent’, as Watson says, is uncertain; candidum is agreed to mean ‘sincere’ or ‘well-intentioned’, which perhaps implies that ingenium rather means ‘character’ or the like. Mankin ad loc. suggests that, since in elegy the lover-poet ‘is what he writes’, both meanings are active, and this is perhaps the best explanation of the (otherwise unparalleled) phrase. The contrast lucrum ~ pauperis ingenium certainly seems to allude to the topos of the ‘poor poet’, as pointed out by K. Büchner, ‘Die Epoden des Horaz’, in id., Studien zur römischen Literatur, VIII: Werkanalysen (Wiesbaden, 1970), 60 n. 2.

14 Watson (n. 5), 359–60 = (n. 6), 230.

15 Barchiesi (n. 3), 129.

16 Wigodsky (n. 10), 38–9 (my italics).

17 Strangely called anaphora by Watson (n. 5), ad loc.; Mankin (n. 5) cross-refers to an earlier note of his (4.20) on anadiplosis or geminatio. Cavarzere (n. 5) gets it right.

18 Kiessling and Heinze (n. 4), on line 2 comment that amor ‘ist auch hier nicht der Gott, sondern die “Liebe” …, die auch im folgenden nur auf der Grenze der Personifikation steht’.

19 Rudd (n. 9) has come to the same conclusion (‘because I am deeply smitten by Love’), although he has misrepresented graui.

20 For percutio used of arrows see Ov. Met. 6.266, Hyg. Fab. 107.1, Curt. 8.10.27, Sen. Ag. 849–50, Plin. NH 8.97. The commentators quote Anacreon without drawing any conclusion.

21 Cf. K.-S. 1.378.

22 This is similar to the claim made, as I now see, by Büchner (n. 13), 60 n. 2: Nihil … graui ‘heisst nicht, “jetzt mache ich keine Verse mehr, weil ich der Liebe verfallen bin” …, sondern “wenn ich, wie z. B. jetzt, der Liebe verfallen bin”; denn die Verse haben nichts genützt’. It should, however, be noted that, if we supply iuuat, the meaning ‘help’ is eliminated as a possibility, since it would imply that, in the periods when he is not in love, Horace required poetic help for some other problem—which seems quite implausible. Büchner's interpretation appears not to be mentioned by the three recent commentators.

23 recusatio is a term used with reference to Epode 11 also by C.F. Kumaniecki, ‘De Epodis quibusdam Horatianis’, in Scripta minora (Wrocław, Warsaw and Cracow, 1967), 267–81, at 273. Kumaniecki, whose discussion was originally published in Commentationes Horatianae (Cracow, 1939), 139–57, helpfully surveys the views of some earlier scholars and complains that ‘unusquisque eorum id potissimum agebat, ut iambum nostrum certo cuidam generi litterario adnumeraret, interpretatione ipsius epodi paene neglecta’ (p. 274 of the reprint). This complaint may find an echo today, seventy-five years later, although his own interpretation of the poem seems to me misguided.

24 See Cavarzere (n. 5), 189. Grassmann (n. 5), 120 has an equivalent division.

25 Scholars note that Varro in his turn is alluding to Apollonius, though the precise passage is disputed: the majority compares 2.1098 and following, but A.S. Hollis acutely triangulates Horace, Varro and Apollonius to suggest that the relevant passage is 4.216–17, where the autumnal month itself is described as shedding leaves (Fragments of Roman Poetry c. 60 BC-AD 20 [Oxford, 2007], 210).

26 Barchiesi (n. 3), 130.

27 I pointed this out in CR 48 (1998), 307 (not picked up by Watson in his commentary). Horace's phrase is later imitated by Martial (6.64.23).

28 The difference is underlined by the fact that the metre is asynartetic.

29 The few exceptions are in Greek tragedy: Soph. El. 435–6 (gifts and libations), Eur. Bacch. 350 (fillets), Tro. 454 (garlands).

30 Not surprisingly, no parallel is produced in TLL 5.1.1597.43–5.

31 This is also the view of H. Darnley Naylor, Horace Odes and Epodes: A Study in Poetic Word-Order (Cambridge, 1922), who refers to ‘an emphatic addendum’ (258).

32 Watson (n. 5), 371 = (n. 6), 235.

33 A105 DK αἰτίαν οὖσαν τῶν ὀξέων νοσημάτων· ὑπερβάλλουσαν γὰρ ἀπορραίνειν πρός τε τὸν πλεύμονα καὶ τὰς φλέβας καὶ τὰ πλευρά.

34 The connection between the two texts seems to have been made by R.B. Onians, The Origins of European Thought (Cambridge, 19542), who, when in one place suggesting that Horace's praecordiis is a reference to the lungs (42 n. 6), without further comment cross-refers to the page on which he quotes Anaxagoras (84). There is no relevant comment in D. Sider, The Fragments of Anaxagoras (Meisenheim am Glan, 1981) or P. Curd, Anaxagoras of Clazomenae: Fragments and Testimonia (Toronto, 2007).

35 See OLD uentus 4b; D.R. Langslow, Medical Latin in the Roman Empire (Oxford, 2000), 187.

36 Kissel ad loc. quotes no parallels, but remarks: ‘Dieser hyperbolischen Metapher verleiht nun Persius durch die Zufügung von pulmonem und ventis den Anschein einer physikalisch-medizinischen Realität.’ I acknowledge the advice of J.N. Adams, K.-D. Fischer and N. Holmes on this matter.

37 For the difficulties associated with translating into English the various Greek terms for ‘wind’, ‘breath’ and ‘air’, see W.H.S. Jones, Hippocrates (Cambridge, MA, 1923), 2.224, who chooses to translate πνεῦμα as ‘wind’.

38 This is thus the opposite of Sat. 1.4.89 condita cum uerax aperit praecordia Liber.

39 See A.J. Bell, The Latin Dual and Poetic Diction (Oxford, 1923), 317.

40 Parker, H.N., ‘Horace Epodes 11.15–18: what's shame got to do with it?’, AJPh 121 (2000), 559–70Google Scholar.

41 I am not the first with this suggestion: Gow attributes it to Postgate (evidently a personal communication); C.H. Moore, Horace: The Odes and Epodes (New York and Cincinnati, 1902), renders very similarly: ‘the false pride that still urged him to the contest’.

42 See again Grassmann (n. 5), 120.

43 The thought that Horace might try poetry to improve his situation is naturally not mentioned in 23–8: not only did he tell us at the very beginning of the epode that, when he is in love like this, he derives no pleasure from writing poetry, but there has been no suggestion of poetry's curative role anywhere in the poem.