In spite of almost certainly not being an authentic work by Galen, On Theriac to Piso is an interesting text for various reasons, and the fact that two editions have appeared almost simultaneously (the other one being that produced by V. Boudon for Les Belles Lettres, 2016) is a strong indicator of this new interest in ancient – not only Galenic – pharmacology. The treatise discusses the complex drug invented by Andromachus, Nero's personal physician, whose original recipe in verses the author reproduces, with the addition of the flesh of vipers. This is one of the best accounts (together with Antidotes and the apocryphal Theriac to Pamphilianus) of a medical preparation that would prove immensely popular in the Mediterranean world and beyond throughout antiquity, the Middle Ages and the Renaissance until well into the eighteenth century.
Clearly part of a tradition of monographs on theriac, On Theriac to Piso stands apart from similar pharmacological works, according to L., for its ‘additional rhetorical, historical and theoretical content’ (p. 9). Albeit at a rather superficial level, there is indeed much Galenic in it, and we should mention as noteworthy at least the discussions of how the medical properties of simple drugs interact with complex ones or of why the same substance can act as both poison and antidote. It also sheds light on how the name of the remedy (lit. ‘pertaining to wild beasts’) relates to its connotations of ‘antidote’, ‘prophylactic’ and ‘panacea’, all senses in which the word is still widely understood. Interestingly, ‘wild beasts’ (θηρία) are not just one of the ingredients of the preparation, but also the venomous animals against which the drug is going to serve as antidote, all part of a broader rhetorical category of ‘bestiality’, which also includes the Methodist doctors (146.15), the plague (148.14), the worms infesting the innards of a patient (140.14) and even ‘someone who wanted to go to war with Rome’ (86.18) – who turns out to be no less than Hannibal.
In the light of all this, this new edition of a text previously only available in the 1830 Kühn edition is a valuable contribution to our knowledge of Galen and ancient pharmacology. In establishing the text, L. mostly relies on the authoritative Laurent. Plut. 74.5, emended with the conjectures of Parisinus 2164, almost all of which were already incorporated in the 1525 Aldine, plus the Latin translations by Niccolò da Reggio (1490) and Marziano Rota (1565). He also takes into account the anonymous Arabic version of Aya Sofya 3590, a loose translation described as being mostly valuable in transmitting or confirming good readings, in spite of the published text being itself in need of a revision. The introduction justifies the constitution of the stemma, but the manuscript descriptions do little to satisfy the appetites of codicologists, and some standard information, such as the date of the W MS, is missing.
There is little doubt that, with more than 100 changes, L.’s text is markedly superior to Kühn's. Many of the emendations succeed in correcting the usual and well-known inaccuracies of the old edition, but in some instances it is more than a cosmetic matter. For example, the choice between Andromachus and Magnus (66.11) as author of a theriac book, or the exact nature of the priesthood held by the dedicatee's son Piso, object of some debate among previous scholars and settled on new grounds by L. by rejecting the editions’ ἱερουργός in favour of ἱερουργία (68.2) – which in turn might shed some light on the date of composition.
The date of the work is discussed in relation to an apparent reference to the equestrian ceremony of the Lusus Troiae (68.1ff.), which, however, fails to provide unequivocal evidence. A stronger argument is provided by a mention of ‘the present emperors’, which in L.’s view can only refer to Severus and Caracalla after their return to Rome, thus setting the date of composition between ad 203 and 211. This, of course, has implications for the paternity of the work. The tract looks out of place in the Galenic collection in many respects, and L.’s merit is to have formulated and discussed the main arguments for the athetesis while very cautiously stressing that none of them is conclusive in its own.
Content, doctrinal and stylistic grounds are taken as proof of On Theriac to Piso as an apocryphal work. The anecdote of Hannibal waging war against Eumenes II with jars full of venomous serpents is recounted in a peculiarly un-Galenic way, while the question of the relation between the treatise and Julius Africanus’ Cesti is left without a definite answer – rightly so, given the weak nature of the evidence.
On the doctrinal side, various discrepancies seem to set On Theriac to Piso apart from the authentic Galenic corpus. It would be unique, for example, in regarding viper (ἔχιδνα) and ‘thirst snake’ (διψάς) as two separate species, or in giving a philosophically most problematic identification of Asclepiades’ ὄγκοι and πόροι with Democritus’ and Epicurus’ atoms. The interpretation of a Hippocratic aphorism is atypical, and the relative subordination of πεῖρα to λόγος does not match the theoretical framework of the authentic pharmacological works. The dedication too does not fit the usual Galenic pattern.
As for the style, expressions such as οὐκ ἀφυῶς and διαφθεῖραι κακῶς are not found elsewhere in Galen – the latter sounding so peculiar in a medical context that one might consider it to hide some technical meaning (although clear enough in the light of θανάτῳ ἀποθνήσκουσι κακῷ, 146.8). Other idiosyncrasies include the use of οἴδαμεν instead of ἴσμεν, or the positive sense attached to φιλοτιμία and cognates. A quantitative analysis of word frequencies reveals anomalies with the rest of the corpus (though the rationale for the choice of meaningful stylistic markers is not immediately clear). L. is nevertheless understandably cautious in drawing definitive conclusions from this kind of analysis alone. In the light of all this, L. is legitimately reluctant to ascribe the treatise to Galen, whereas the attribution to some unknown Galenist could explain the incongruities as well as the seemingly authentic features, with the possibility of mimicry or plagiarism being left open.
The translation, mostly accurate, lacks in fluidity here and there, for example at 80.8–9: ‘so that we may learn accurately their powers according to which they take an effect’ for ἵνα καὶ τὴν δύναμιν αὐτῶν καθ᾽ ἣν ἐνεργεῖ ἀκριβῶς ἐκμάθωμεν. This may well be a personal stylistic choice, but I find it difficult to understand phrases such as ‘many of their body parts heroically treat many conditions’ for πολλὰ τῶν μερῶν οὐκ ὀλίγα τῶν παθῶν ἀγωνιστικῶς θεραπεύεσθαι (108.16 and infra).
The translation of medical substances is a notorious issue, and since in most cases no definitive answer can be given, it would be desirable to stick to an explicit rationale. But this does not happen here, to the point that on the same page (p. 79) we find Greek names translated into vernacular English (‘scammony’), Latin botanical terminology (‘Cuscuta Epithymum’) and literal translation (‘Cnidos berry’) just a few lines apart. Μαλάβαθρον is rendered as ‘malabathron’ at 98.27 and ‘Cinnamomum Tamala or albiflorum’ at 128.8.
While the introduction discusses at length previous scholarship on historical details, the commentary might have been aimed at a readership more familiar, perhaps, with early modern medicine than with the technicalities of Galen's pharmacology. A note, for example, on the exact meaning of the theriac's κρᾶσις, a key Galenic term, here (68.24) misleadingly translated as ‘composition’ without further explanation, is one such case.
Indexes are on the meagre side: there is an index of significant Greek terms mentioned in the introduction and commentary, but unfortunately no comprehensive index (ideally with translation) for the text, which should be a requirement for any critical edition. Some conspicuous omissions such as θηρίον stand out, and there is no comprehensive pharmacological index.
It is unfortunate for any book, but especially for an edition, to be spoilt by typos. At p. 11 there are three mistakes in one single quotation from Marquardt's Handbuch. Many are pretty trivial, such as bombycianus (p. 2) and Diocleς (p. 52), or ἀποστάσις (p. 169) and δόξαζω (p. 175), but sometimes the sense is affected (e.g. p. 50, first paragraph), even in the translation itself. (I suspect that ‘learn from your native intelligence understanding’ for ἐξ ἐμφύτου συνέσεως εὑρίσκεις εὐφυῶς at p. 67 is not deliberate.) Almost 20 such slips can inevitably undermine the reader's confidence.
