‘ “I desire”’ Jebb, whose note I now take as read. In this and my ensuing discussion I seek to show that never has that meaning. The scholiast's note is a sophism, and Jebb's is another. Jebb says that the primary sense is to love; he prudently leaves unstated the next step in the fallacy, that to love might mean to have just fallen in love with; and he concludes that poetry ‘could easily draw’ the sense to desire. Actually applies as between parents and children, rulers and their subjects, and to other not necessarily amenable persons or not prima facie acceptable things with whom or which one has to associate continually (or, by extension, for a limited time); its general sense is to ‘do with’, to brook; it ranges from like to either extreme, be fond of or tolerate. In its various nuances it resembles which never means to ‘desire’.

In the course of a series of arguments to refute Simmias' hypothesis that soul is an attunement Socrates asks the question (93 a 11–12), which may be literally translated ‘Is it not natural for each attunement to be an attunement according as it has been attuned?’ This question Simmias admits he does not understand, and Socrates responds with another question in which he suggests that if it (i.e. the attunement) is more attuned and to a greater extent, supposing that it is possible for this to happen, it would be more of an attunement and a greater attunement, if less attuned and to a smaller extent, less of an attunement and a smaller attunement (93 a 14–b 2).if less attuned and to a smaller extent, less of an attunement and a smaller attunement (93 a 14–b 2). Neither the meaning of these questions nor their place in the argument is at all obvious, and none of the solutions offered by the English commentators seems to be without difficulty.

When the death-cry of Agamemnon is heard, the Chorus talks, but does nothing. This is the locus classicus of a Chorus which, in a situation that seems to demand effective intervention, is debarred from intervening by the necessity of remaining a Chorus. Did Aeschylus and his audience feel a difficulty here? No, says Professor G. Thomson; it is merely that modern taste is influenced by ‘the crude realism of the Elizabethan drama’. But this will not do, for it is Aeschylus himself, through the Chorus, who raises the issue of their entering or not entering the palace, which they discuss in the most realistic way. Assuming that a technical difficulty exists, with what skill and success did the dramatist handle it? Criticism has on the whole been adverse.

In the space at my disposal I cannot attempt to deal with all the points which arise in the Second Part of the dialogue, and I therefore confine myself to a few which seem to be of special interest and importance. I hope it may be possible to deal more exhaustively with the dialogue in a fuller commentary. As in the previous part of the article, I have assumed the results of my study of the Sophist already referred to.

It is always a pity to spoil an old joke, especially one that belongs to one's own profession, which has been repeated time and again, for generations, whenever a teacher of Greek is concerned with the passages in question; but when the hearty laughter is over and the last echoes of it from our obedient pupils have faded away, let us examine the Greek again. .

My inverted commas are intended; I mean, of whom are Schwartz and Jacoby thinking when they say that the History which was called Kratippos' was a forgery of the second or of the first century B.C. ? The reason for the question is this: most forgeries are of the form, ‘Here is an epigram by Simonides, a new chapter by Thucydides’; or ‘I, a humble scholar or an unknown person, X, have discovered the lost books of Livy, or a hitherto unknown painting by Vermeer, or a privately printed edition of Sonnets from the Portuguese’; that is, the work forged is said to be by a famous person, the discoverer a relatively obscure one. Schwartz and Jacoby, however, say, or imply, that ‘Kratippos’ was the name of the forger, a man who lived, probably, in the first century B.C., and who deceived Dionysios of Halikarnassos (de Thuc. 16) and Plutarch (de glor. Ath. 345d ); but what did he assert that his history was ? Did he say, ‘I, Kratippos, have discovered a lost history dating from a generation after the end of the Peloponnesian war which is a continuation of Thucydides; authorship unknown’? Clearly not, for Dionysios says, and Plutarch quite plainly implies, that they took ‘Kratippos’ to be an author of the early fourth century.

The following note is based upon a re-examination of the binding, the quire signatures, and the enumeration of the plays of Euripides in L first made at Florence in 1948 and checked in 1952. Its purpose is (1) to suggest that conjectures are still current about L and the exemplar from which it was copied, which cannot be regarded as sufficiently supported by good evidence to justify their retention; and (2) to attempt some further clarification of L's relationship with the MS. Palatinus 287.

(1) 583 b = p. 478. 26 Sieveking (Plutarchi Moralia, iii, Leipzig, 1929) …

is objectionable. Since Lysis is already dead, cannot here signify ‘beforehand’. Its only other appropriate significance would seem to be ‘publicly, openly’: but also enters into the compound, and can only bear the sense ‘secretly’, which would involve us in a contradiction. so far as I know, does not occur elsewhere: nearly always has the sense ‘give some indication of…’.

It is generally believed that the actors of Aristophanic comedy wore phallic dress. For example Mr. James Laver (Oxford Companion to the Theatre, p. 158) tells us that ‘in Old Comedy the actors all wore clothes grotesquely padded, and each was provided with an enormous phallus of red leather. The female characters too were padded, and over the padding wore the long chiton if they belonged to the upper classes, and the short one if they belonged to the lower.‘ Similarly Haigh (Attic Theatre, 3rd edition by A. W. Pickard-Cambridge, pp. 258-g) says that ‘the Old Comedy was the direct descendant of the boisterous phallic performances at the festival of Dionysus. … The actors therefore regularly wore the phallus.

On this the following observations should be made:

1. The sigla ABCEFM are used here as in all editions from Hude onwards, H as in Hude though not universally since, and as in Bartoletti, Per la storia del testo di Tucidide (Firenze, 1938); have not been used before.

2. In positing β as ancestor of ABEFHM but not of C I follow Hude, Bartoletti, Stuart Jones, and Powell. I differ from them in leaving out of consideration G (Monac. 228, s. xiii), which is normally considered as descending from a congener of C; since, however, one or more ancestors of G were collated with at least one manuscript related to M and probably with manuscripts of other affinities also, there are clearly no means of deciding whether G is a descendant of C or ultimately independent of C, and I have adopted the economical hypothesis that it is a descendant and must be relegated to the recentiores.

Plato's Sophist begins with an attempt to arrive by division at a definition of a Sophist. In the course of the attempt six different descriptions are discussed and the results summarized at 231 c-e. A seventh and final account may be said to occupy the whole of the rest of the dialogue, including the long digression on negative statements. The first five divisions characterize with a considerable amount of satire different types of sophist, or more probably different aspects of the sophistic art. The sixth division (226 a–231 b) is very different. To quote Cornford's words, ‘satire is dropped. The tone is serious and sympathetic, towards the close it becomes eloquent’.

All commentators so far as I know have believed that lines 100–1 are simply a vague paraphrase for Jebb's translation may be taken to represent the usual view: ‘… is he threading the straits of the sea, or hath he found an abode on either continent?’ But this sense is not only poetially inept, but linguistically impossible.

The colour adjectives and have been discussed by R. Strömberg, who has removed misconceptions about their meaning. So has been shown to mean, not ‘quite white’ (L.S.J.), but a faded white, or one which has lost its essential whiteness: so often where the ‘natural colour has yielded to a dull dirty whitish colour’.