This article examines allusions to Greek poetry in two Greek verse inscriptions carved on public monuments for Lycian dynasts of the late fifth and early fourth centuries b.c. (CEG 177, 888). Scholarship on these epigrams celebrating the rule, achievements and outstanding qualities of the dynasts Gergis (Lycian Kheriga) and Arbinas (Erbinna) has largely focussed on the evidence they provide for Lycian history, dynastic ideology and Lycia's relationship to Greece. Less attention has been paid to the possible significance of their long-noted echoes of Greek poetry. Literary analysis of these epigrams has been sidelined, it seems, owing to a prevailing assumption that they were composed and inscribed primarily for Greeks visiting or resident in Xanthus, the Lycian ‘capital’ where they were inscribed, and so their literariness, unheard by Lycian ears, cannot add to our understanding of Lycia and Lycians. Yet, a recent observation of Peter Thonemann suggests that the appropriation and manipulation of Greek poetry is in fact central to the dynastic intent of the epigrams: to assert Lycia's non-Greek, ‘Asiatic’ identity.

By the mid fourth century c.e., violently divergent Christian communities had developed across the Roman empire: Nicene or Homoousian (God and Jesus ‘are of the same substance’), Homoiousian (‘are of similar substance’), Homoian (Jesus is ‘like’ God), Anomoean or Heterousian (God and Jesus ‘are of different substance’) and others. The first emperor to be a strong supporter of traditional cult in more than a generation, Julian ruled over an empire of numerous religious groups that were often at variance with one another, both extra- and intra-communally, and how all of these should be treated was one of the chief problems pressing the emperor upon his accession in late 361. Julian's religious thought and action during his short sole reign (3 November 361 to 26 June 363) has long exercised scholars, its impact on Christians and Christianity in particular. To be sure, Julian tended to be hostile to Christians and Christianity, but he was by no means hostile to all, and he even favoured some Christians, some of whom he counted among his friends and officials. The emperor's Christian policy thus was complicated. One of the best examples of this complexity is Julian's epistle to the Heterousian Christian leader Aetius (Ep. 15 Wright = 46 Bidez). In a shorter note published in this journal, Pierre-Louis Malosse focussed his attention on Julian's letter to Aetius, which dates to early 362 and which is the only such epistle to this future bishop that is extant. As transmitted, Julian's missive to Aetius is critical for the light it helps to shed on the emperor's views and treatments of Christians at the outset of his sole reign, and my conclusions on this missive differ from those of Malosse.

The sting to Aristophanes’ ‘little tale’ in Wasps (λογίδιον, Vesp. 64) materializes from the comedy's interplay with the Oresteia. This article argues that Aristophanes alludes to both Agamemnon and Eumenides in the scenes running up to (and including) the trial scene, and that he exploits this intertext in the cloak scene (Vesp. 1122–264). While isolated allusions to the Oresteia have been identified in Wasps, a systematic consideration of these references has not been undertaken: a surprising absence in discussions of the ongoing competition between the comic and the tragic genres permeating Wasps’ dramatic action. Moreover, Aristophanes’ engagement with the Oresteia offers a special type of tragic intertext, in which the first and the last plays of a connected trilogy are referenced simultaneously, provocatively destabilizing the original. Furthermore, this allusion has implications for our understanding of a scene which recent scholarship has established as pivotal within the comedy, namely the cloak scene. The first part of this article, therefore, establishes the extent of Wasps’ engagement with the Oresteia and considers the significance of the ‘pastiche’ formed through the combined intertextual references to Agamemnon and to Eumenides. The second part explores the impact of this intertext on the interpretation of the cloak scene, revealing that its use of costume can be understood as a criticism of Aeschylus’ dramaturgy, inviting a negative reading of Bdelycleon's ideological stance and reinforcing the play's pessimistic view of the Athenian law courts.

εἰ δέ τιϲ ὄλβον ἔχων μορφᾷ παραμεύϲεται ἄλλουϲ,
ἔν τ᾽ ἀέθλοιϲιν ἀριϲτεύων ἐπέδειξεν βίαν,
θνατὰ μεμνάϲθω περιϲτέλλων μέλη, 15
καὶ τελευτὰν ἁπάντων γᾶν ἐπιεϲϲόμενοϲ.
ἐν λόγοιϲ δ᾽ ἀϲτῶν ἀγαθοῖϲί νιν αἰνεῖϲθαι χρεὼν
καὶ μελιγδούποιϲι δαιδαλθέντα μελίζεν ἀοιδαῖϲ.

45 τόλμᾳ γὰρ εἰκώϲ
θυμὸν ἐριβρεμετᾶν θηρῶν λεόντων
ἐν πόνῳ, μῆτιν δ᾽ ἀλώπηξ,
αἰετοῦ ἅ τ᾽ ἀναπιτναμένα ῥόμβον ἴϲχει·
χρὴ δὲ πᾶν ἔρδοντ᾽ ἀμαυρῶϲαι τὸν ἐχθρόν.

The Florilegium Coislinianum (nine/tenth century), a largely unpublished Byzantine spiritual anthology, provides a fuller perspective on an intriguing exegetical work attributed to Athanasius of Alexandria, the Fragmenta in Matthaeum (CPG 2141.7). The authenticity of the work has been contested. However, while it is certain that it was not written in toto by Athanasius, the possibility remains that it contains traces of now-lost texts of the Alexandrian theologian.

Like most other fragments of Nicander's Georgica, fr. 74 is preserved by Athenaeus, who presents it as a catalogue of flowers used for making wreaths (15.683a Νίκανδρος δ’ ἐν δευτέρῳ Γεωργικῶν καταλέγων καὶ αὐτὸς στεφανωτικὰ ἄνθη). Transmitted in the only independent manuscript of the fuller text of Athenaeus (A, cod. Ven. Marc. 447), the fragment's text is extremely corrupt, which, coupled with its technical subject matter and intricate style, renders its restoration an arduous and uncertain job. In what follows I challenge the established reconstruction and interpretation of the section dealing with the ivy, and propose my own instead.