Sophokles' Philoktetes is a response to the oligarchic takeover and restoration of democracy in Athens in 411–10 BC. The play explores the grounds, strengths, and weaknesses of democratic discourse, and measures it against alternatives. The final agon between Neoptolemos and Philoktetes defines a model of legitimate persuasion (logos) that can replace Odysseus' sophistic and oligarchic modes of interacting with others. The deus ex machina, in turn, brings in an authoritative aristocratic discourse (muthos) that is superior even to democratic deliberation.

In Archaic Athenian vase-painting, silens (satyrs) are often sexually aroused, but only sporadically satisfy their desires in a manner acceptable to most Athenian men. François Lissarrague persuasively argued that the sexuality of silens in vase-painting was probably laughable rather than awe-inspiring. What sort of laughter did the vase-paintings elicit? Was it the scornful laughter of a person who felt nothing in common with silens, or the laughter of one made to see something of himself in their behavior? For three reasons, I argue for the latter interpretation. First, some vase-paintings are constructed so as to invite the viewer to adopt imaginatively the persona of a silen. Second, parallels for the less-than-triumphant sexuality of silens occur in Archaic iambic poetry. Like the vase-paintings, the poetry was often constructed so that performers of the poems are incorporated into the narratives as all-too-human protagonists. Third, certain formal features of classical satyr-play encouraged the audience to identify with the point of view of the satyr-chorus, while others reminded it that there were better role models than silens. In all three media, a negative characterization of male characters or silens is combined with a manner of presentation that invites the viewer or performer to see himself among those characters despite their negative traits. That form of humor may have been common in Archaic symposia, but its presence in satyr-play suggests that it may also be a fundamental characteristic of silens.

This essay makes the case that Livy's version of the tale of Mettius Fufetius transmits certain facts that relate to inherited ritual practices (horse-sacrifice among them) along with formulas used in early law and diplomacy. Although the author may not be fully aware of the original meaning of all he is handing down (e.g., the etymology of mitis) because he has simply taken materials from his sources without much critical investigation, the traditional elements are important to him because they seem to authenticate this legend about the reign of Tullus Hostilius. For the moralizing historian that Livy certainly is, the treason of Mettius Fufetius and his execution at the command of the Roman king comprise the starting point of a remarkable sequence of episodes in his narrative that demonstrate the dishonorable behavior of Rome's chief rivals in Italy. The legend of Mettius Fufetius thus embodies a kind of “original sin” in the political realm, and becomes the paradigm for Rome's harsh dealing with faithless allies over the next five centuries. The essay concludes that this story typifies many Roman fabulae, insofar as they were often composed on the basis of outdated or unfamiliar idionyms, toponyms, ceremonial words and phrases, and ancient legal terms. In such fabulae characters like Tullus Hostilius and Mettius Fufetius, perhaps mere names in annals and king-lists, become the performers whose ceremonial acts turn into the foundational moments of Rome's public life.

At 4.20.5–11, Livy famously interrupts his narrative to report hearing that Augustus had discovered an inscribed linen corselet in the Temple of Jupiter Feretrius. The inscription, Livy tells us he has heard, said that A. Cornelius Cossus had dedicated the corselet as spolia opima when he was consul. Augustus's story thus contradicts the account Livy has just related, in which Cossus dedicated spolia opima as military tribune. Livy's treatment of Augustus's testimony, I argue in the first part of this paper, associates this discovery with prominent episodes early in the Ab Urbe Condita in which persons of authority fabricate supernatural stories and use them to influence persons of lower status. The association distances Livy and his readers from Augustus's account. This distancing, I argue in the paper's second part, has implications for our understanding of Livy's literary project and offers scope for reflection on the interrelationship of historiographical and political authority at the beginning of the Principate.

Livy's history recounts several events that take place, years apart, at the temple of Juno at Croton. A reading, both intertextual and intratextual, of passages having to do with the temple argues that the repeated references to the place form a strand of narrative complementing the main thread of Livy's account of Rome's expansion. Moreover, the temple unites geography and history, for it stands at the edge of each, at the place where Italy ends and the ocean begins and where Livy's narrative meets and responds to those of other writers.

Social historians, despite showing great interest in Apuleius's Metamorphoses, have tended to ignore the novel's embedded tale of Cupid and Psyche on the grounds that it is purely imaginary. This paper demonstrates that Apuleius in fact refers throughout his story to real Roman practices, especially legal practices—most conspicuous are the frequent references to the Roman law of marriage. A careful examination of several passages thus shows how knowledge of Roman law, it turns out, enhances the reader's pleasure in Apuleius's story. The paper concludes by exploring the connections between Apuleius's fairytale and the account of his own marriage to Aemilia Pudentilla in his earlier work, the Apologia. Apuleius seems to be recalling, playfully, his own earlier legal success. At the same time, both works suggest that legal problems arose in Roman families not because of the actions of any official enforcers, but rather appeal to the law by particular family members.