Sibyls and Sibylline oracles. 3. The Sibylline oracles

1. Sibyls | 2. Sibylline books | 3. Sibylline oracles | 4. The Renaissance

As we saw in Part 2, some fragments of the Sibylline books were in public circulation in pagan Rome. Cicero and Dionysios of Halikarnassos accurately describe some aspects of the surviving fragments. There were also imitators.

Vergil at work: illustration before Eclogue 4 in cod. Vat. lat. 3867, fol. 9r (image source: Vatican Library)

Vergil’s fourth Eclogue is a relatively loose example. It’s framed as a ‘prophecy’ linked to the Cumaean Sibyl, though it doesn’t try to replicate the style or imagery of the Sibylline books. Vergil doesn’t give instructions for rituals, and there are no acrostics: as Parke puts it, it’s ‘a transposition of Sibylline motifs into a pastoral key’. Vergil foretells a glorious future golden age surrounding a child who is to be born in the consulship of Asinius Pollio (40 BCE). It’s hard to avoid thinking that aspect may have been partly inspired by the childbirth mentioned in the surviving Sibylline books quotation.

Parke 1988: 145. Pollio’s consulship: Eclogue 4.3, 4.11–12. Birth of a male child: 4.8 onwards. Acrostics: a few Vergil scholars have noted that the first letters of Eclogue 4.47–52 spell out cacata ‘shitty’, but nearly all scholars regard it as an accident. If Vergil had really wanted to do an acrostic, he was perfectly capable of doing something comparable to the Sibylline books, rather than putting an isolated word of doubtful implication at a random point in mid-poem.

The Sibylline oracles are closer imitations. These are a group of eleven poems and eight fragments, mostly Jewish, with an assortment of Christian additions, in Greek hexameter verse. They range in date from the 2nd century BCE to the 7th century CE. Several of the poems list off dynasties of kings and emperors, framing them as though they’re predictions. In some poems the timeline reaches all the way from the Creation (as in Genesis) up to the end times and the Last Judgement (as in Enoch or Revelation).

A sample

Here’s an excerpt: Sibylline oracles 4, lines 125–139, about various disasters ‘predicted’ to occur in the 1st century CE (trans. John Collins).

(125) A leader of Rome will come to Syria who will burn
the Temple of Jerusalem with fire, at the same time slaughter
many men and destroy the great land of the Jews with its broad roads.
Then indeed an earthquake will destroy at once Salamis and Paphos
when the dark water overwhelms Cyprus, which is washed by many waves.

(130) But when a firebrand, turned away from a cleft in the earth
in the land of Italy, reaches to broad heaven,
it will burn many cities and destroy men.
Much smoking ashes will fill the great sky,
and showers will fall from heaven like red earth.
(135) Know then the wrath of the heavenly God,
because they will destroy the blameless tribe of the pious.
Then the strife of war being aroused will come to the west,
and the fugitive from Rome will also come, brandishing a great spear,
having crossed the Euphrates with many myriads.

This covers Titus’ assault and the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE; an earthquake on Cyprus; the eruption of Vesuvius in 79; and the coming of one of the various false Neros, coming westward with Parthian support (probably the one mentioned in Dion Cassius 66.19.3, who came west as far as the Euphrates at some point in 79–81).

After this point S.O. 4 stops predicting ‘history’ and moves on to the end times. The references above are detailed enough that the poem should be understood to have been written not long after 81 CE.

Opening of Sibylline oracles 1 in the edition of Geffcken (1902: 6)

How many poems?

Yes yes, I know, lots of online sources say ‘fourteen’. They’re wrong. Modern editions assign the poems numbers up to 14. But the actual number of poems is eleven — or thirteen, or fifteen, depending on how you count: fourteen is the only count that’s definitely wrong.

The confusion is because the Oracles were transmitted in two overlapping collections.

The first collection, S.O. 1 to 8, has never been lost, and has been in print since the 1500s. Poems 1 and 2 are actually a single poem, but the first modern editor, Sixt Birck (a.k.a. Betuleius), decided to count them separately for no good reason, and unfortunately the numbering is now pretty much set in stone. There are indications that there was once a further poem in between S.O. 2 and 3 — the opening section of S.O. 3 is clearly from a separate poem —; also, as we’ll see below, that Lactantius had a copy of this collection, and that his copy had nine poems. So this collection can be counted as seven, eight, or nine poems.

The second collection was discovered in the 1800s. The first editor carried on the numbering from eight, and there are seven poems, so they’re numbers 9 to 15. But three of them — S.O. 9, 10, and 15 — duplicate material from the first collection. So modern editions only ever print the new ones, poems 11 to 14. (Poem 12 is a continuation of poem 11, but they were composed at different times and should be counted separately.)

So the full modern collection is S.O. 1/2; a missing poem of which fragments survive; S.O. 3 to 8; and 11 to 14. Eleven poems — or fifteen if you use Betuleius’ count, and count the duplications in S.O. 9, 10, and 15. Between them, they come to over 4,000 lines of hexameter.

You’re right to be confused. Recent commentaries on Sibylline oracles 1/2 and 3 assume you’re already familiar with at least parts of this. It’s explained in the introduction to the standard critical edition, by Johannes Geffcken, but if you can’t read Geffcken’s German, things are going to be bewildering. A much friendlier guide is one given by John Collins in The Old Testament pseudepigrapha, volume 1. Collins gives an excellent introduction to each poem; a full English translation; and detailed notes. At the time of writing, Collins’ translation is the only good English translation of the Oracles.

Critical edition: Geffcken 1902. English edition: Collins 1983. Commentary on S.O. 1/2: Lightfoot 2007. Commentary on S.O. 3: Buitenwerf 2003. On the opening section of S.O. 3 being a fragment from a separate poem, see Buitenwerf 2003: 79–94; Collins 1983: 359–360. (Note that Buitenwerf and Collins have opposing views on whether S.O. frs. 1–3 should be assigned to S.O. 3 or to another lost poem).

The contents of the Oracles

Here’s an overview. The dates are those assigned by Collins (but note that some of the dates aren’t universally agreed).

First collection (φ and ψ manuscript groups; first ed. Betuleius, 1545):

Poem	Date	Origin and contents
1/2	before 150 CE	Phrygian Jewish original. Timeline from Creation to Last Judgement; some phases removed and replaced by a Christian section on Christ and the fall of Jerusalem (1.323–400).
3.1–92	in phases, II BCE–I CE?	Fragment. Jewish (with Christian elements?). Hymn to God; rule of Rome; destruction of Temple; return of Nero, called ‘Beliar’. (93–96 = a further fragment.)
3.97–829	II BCE	Egyptian Jewish. Miscellany: Tower of Babel, Titanomachy, Exodus, Exile, oracles against foreign nations, ethics, eschatology.
4	late I CE	Jewish. Timeline of empires from Assyrian empire to fall of Jerusalem (600s BCE to 70 CE); end times.
5	late I CE	Egyptian Jewish. Timeline, 30 BCE–70 CE: fall of Ptolemies to fall of Jerusalem.
6	unclear	Christian. Short hymn (28 lines).
7	II–III CE	Christian. Historical snippets; the Flood; coming of Christ; end times.
8	II–III CE	Jewish (1–216) and Christian (217–428) sections. Religious perspective on world history. Christian acrostic at 217–250.

Second collection (Ω manuscript group; first ed. Mai, 1825):

Poem	Date	Origin and contents
9		Duplicate: = S.O. 6.1–28 + 7.1 + 8.218–428.
10		Duplicate: = S.O. 4.
11	early I CE?	Jewish. Timeline from the Flood up to the death of Cleopatra (to 30 BCE).
12	ca. 235 CE	Jewish; later continuation of S.O. 11. Some duplication: S.O. 12.1–11 = S.O. 5.1–11. Timeline, 30 BCE–235 CE, Augustus to Alexander Severus.
13	ca. 265 CE	Jewish (with one Christian line added). Historical: ca. 240–265 CE, new Palmyrene kingdom under Odaenathus, and Parthians under Mareades.
14	VII CE	Alexandrian Jewish. Jumble of references: later Roman emperors, Egypt, Rashidun conquest of Syria/Egypt.
15		Duplicate: = S.O. 8.1–9.

Why ‘Sibylline’?

These poems weren’t designed for a pre-existing collection of Sibylline material: they were composed separately from one another, over a period of centuries. So why do we refer to them as ‘sibylline’? Three reasons.

First: at the end of S.O. 3, the narrator explicitly claims to be one (or two) of the Sibyls. Lines 809–818 (trans. Collins, my emphasis):

(I say) these things to you, having left
(810) the long Babylonian walls of Assyria, frenzied, a fire sent to Greece,
prophesying the disclosures of God to all mortals,
so that I prophesy divine riddles to men.
Throughout Greece mortals will say that I am of another country,
a shameless one, born of Erythrae. Some will say that
(815) I am Sibylla born of Circe as mother and Gnostos as father,
a crazy liar. But when everything comes to pass,
then you will remember me and no longer will anyone
say that I am crazy, I who am a prophetess of the great God.

This doubles up as a claim to be both the Chaldaian Sibyl (from Babylon) and the Erythraian Sibyl. When ancient Christian writers quote from this poem, they ascribe it to the Erythraian Sibyl.

Second: there’s an acrostic in S.O. 8.217–250, mostly duplicated in S.O. 9. The first letters of each line spell out

Ἰησοῦς Χρειστὸς θεοῦ υἱὸς σωτὴρ σταυρός

Jesus Chreist, Son of God, Saviour, Cross

Incidentally there’s nothing surprising about the spelling ‘Chreist’: Koine Greek in the 2nd century CE uses ει, η, or ι to represent the sound [i], swapping between them freely.

Unlike the acrostics in Phlegon’s quotation (see Part 2), this acrostic isn’t a hexameter. Still, acrostics are a feature that was known to be associated with the Sibylline books. S.O. 9 reproduces most of the acrostic: that poem duplicates parts of S.O. 6, 7, and 8. But weirdly, it omits the first line of the acrostic, the one that provides the ι of ‘Jesus’. The preceding line (= S.O. 7.1) starts with an ω, so the acrostic is definitely incomplete. This shows, first, that S.O. 9 is a secondary version; and second, it suggests the compiler of S.O. 9 was unaware that there was an acrostic there.

S.O. 9 duplicates material from S.O. 6, 7, and 8. In this damaged manuscript, cod. Vat. gr. 1120, fol. 348v, we see the transition between them: the end of S.O. 6; one line from S.O. 7; then S.O. 8 starting at the second line of the acrostic. This MS is the oldest extant copy of the second collection (14th century; Q in Geffcken’s sigla). (Base image: Vatican Library; my annotations)

Third: ancient testimony casts the poems as ‘sibylline’. Alexander Polyhistor (mid-1st century BCE) shows an acquaintance with the earliest poem, S.O. 3, when he refers to the Tower of Babel in connection with the Babylonian Flood myth and the Sibyl (FGrHist 273 F 79).

From around 100 CE onwards, Christian writers refer to the Sibyls as authors of prophetic visions, though not yet explicitly citing the poems that we know (Shepherd of Hermas 8). The earliest citations are to S.O. 3 — which is to be expected, since that’s the only poem that makes an explicit claim to be sibylline.

Possibly the earliest citation is in Justin Martyr. Around 155 CE he refers to a prophecy that the world will be dissolved in fire. This may be from multiple sources: Justin is probably mainly thinking of Stoic ekpyrosis, but he explicitly refers to Sibylla (or a Sibyl), as well as the legendary Zoroastrian figure Hystaspes.

A couple of decades later we start to get more clearcut citations, starting with Athenagoras (170s) and Tertullian (190s). They quote verbatim from S.O. 3, and explicitly cite ‘the Sibyl’.

Justin, First apology 20, possibly alluding to S.O. 3.53–54. Athenagoras, Plea for the Christians 30; Tertullian, To the nations 2.12, both quoting S.O. 3.108–113 (in Latin in Tertullian’s case). For fuller documentation of ancient Christian citations of the Sibyls and the Sibylline oracles, see Parke 1988: 152–173.

But Lactantius is the most influential case. His works contain around 40 quotations from Sibylline oracles 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8. And one passage has an especially condensed cluster of sibylline references. In Divine institutes 1.6, Lactantius

• (1.6.7–12) reports Varro’s canon of ten Sibyls (see Part 1);
• (1.6.10–11) tells the fable of how the Sibylline books were sold to king Tarquin (see Part 2);
• (1.6.13) claims that each of the poems was written by one of Varro’s Sibyls, except that there is no poem by the Cumaean Sibyl because the Romans keep her books secret;
• (1.6.13) paraphrases S.O. 3.808–813;
• (1.6.15) quotes the Greek text of S.O. fr. 1.7, fr. 3.3–5, and fr. 1.15–16, apparently implying that they are also from the Erythraian Sibyl (i.e. they were originally part of S.O. 3);
• (1.6.16) quotes S.O. 8.377, stating that it’s from a separate poem.

From this, we know Lactantius’ copy contained nine poems: he attributes the poems he knows to the Sibyls in Varro’s canon of ten, except for the Cumaean Sibyl. We also know it contained S.O. 3 through 8, so if it wasn’t an exemplar of the first collection described above, it was closely related to it. So it seems likely that Lactantius’ copy consisted of S.O. 1 to 8 (that is, seven poems) plus two further lost poems; that it had a fuller text of S.O. 3; and that one of the extra poems in his copy was the source of the fragment in S.O. 3.1–92.

See note above on the relation of fragments 1–3 to S.O. 3. Collins thinks fragments 1–3 come from a poem that once existed between S.O. 2 and 3, Buitenwerf things they come from S.O. 3: it depends on how you read the phrasing when Lactantius quotes from them. Collins thinks Lactantius may also have known S.O. 2, and that Div. inst. 7.15.10 paraphrases S.O. 2.21–22.

So Lactantius is the most powerful and direct reason that the collections came to be known as ‘sibylline’.

He’s also the first victim of a clump of misperceptions that have affected many people since then — the idea that the Sibylline oracles poems are genuinely related to Varro’s Sibyls; the idea that they’re derived from or related to the Roman Sibylline books. That confusion sets the tone for a lot of what we’ll see in Part 4, on developments in the Renaissance.

In recent scholarship, though — or most of it — it’s understood that the links between these things are only apparent links. The Sibylline oracles are first and foremost Jewish-Christian apocalyptic literature. They draw some motifs from pagan sibylline traditions, but their roots lie much more in 3rd–2nd century BCE Jewish apocalyptic literature, like Daniel and Enoch, than in the Roman Sibylline books.

References

• Buitenwerf, R. 2003. Book III of the Sibylline oracles and its social setting. Leiden.
• Collins, J. J. 1983. ‘Sibylline oracles.’ In: Charlesworth, J. H. (ed.) The Old Testament pseudepigrapha, vol. 1. New York. 317–472. [Internet Archive]
• Geffcken, J. 1902. Die Oracula Sibyllina. Die griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller. Leipzig. [Internet Archive]
• Lightfoot, J. L. 2007. The Sibylline oracles. With introduction, translation, and commentary on the first and second books. Oxford.
• Parke, H. W. 1988. Sibyls and sibylline prophecy in classical antiquity. London/New York.

Sibyls and Sibylline oracles. 2. The Sibylline books

1. Sibyls | 2. Sibylline books | 3. Sibylline oracles | 4. The Renaissance

Once upon a time, in early Rome, a mysterious old woman came to king Tarquin to sell him a collection of books.

By the 1st century BCE the woman in the story was identified as the Cumaean Sibyl. We don’t know if that was always the case. But, based on that identification, the books were called the Sibyllini libri (Sibylline books) or Sibyllina oracula (Sibylline oracles). For clarity I’ll consistently call them the ‘Sibylline books’, as I explained in Part 1.

19th century illustration of the Capitoline and temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus in the Republican period. (Source: Friedrich Polack, Geschichtsbilder aus der allgemeinen und vaterländischen Geschichte, 1903 edition, fig. 61)

The story is a fable, but the books were real. Dionysios says they were held in a stone chest in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus and curated by a body of priests — the decemviri sacris faciundis, ‘ten men appointed for sacred rites’.

There was a fire in 83 BCE, and the books were destroyed. A new temple was built. The Romans had new books made, and Sulla expanded the priests to fifteen — the quindecimviri. In 28 BCE the replacement books were rehoused in the newly built temple of Palatine Apollo. They continued to be used for several more centuries.

The Sibylline books weren’t primarily books of predictions: they were instructions for rituals, which also mentioned predictions in passing. The idea seems to have been that, when required, priests might choose a ritual from the books, then perform that ritual, to ensure purity, or ward off evil. Some extracts were made public, but a complete text wasn’t widely known.

The sale of the books

The most famous thing about the books is the story of how they were sold. Every version of the fable goes back to Varro’s book Antiquitates rerum divinarum, ‘Ancient matters concerning the gods’, written between 63 and 49 BCE (see Part 1).

Varro’s book is lost, but the story appears in Dionysios of Halikarnassos, who came to Rome around 30 BCE, and Dionysios attributes the story to Varro. Somewhat different versions appear in Aulus Gellius, Lactantius, and shorter allusions elsewhere.

Dionysios of Halikarnassos 4.62 (citing Varro); Aulus Gellius 1.19; Lactantius, Institutiones divinae 1.6. Further references: Varro, Antiquitates rerum divinarum frs. 56–60 ed. Cardauns; Cicero, On divination 2.(54).110–112; Pliny, Natural history 13.(27).88; Phlegon of Tralles, FGrHist 257 F 36.10; Servius, commentary on Aeneid 6.72.

Here’s the gist, skipping over some variations.

An old woman comes to visit king Tarquin, carrying nine books of oracular instructions. But she asks for an incredible price, 300 gold philippics, so Tarquin just laughs. She promptly burns three of the books, and offers the remaining six at the same price. Tarquin laughs even harder, so she burns another three, and offers the last three again, still at the same exorbitant price. This time Tarquin realises it’s no joke, and he agrees to the sale. The old woman departs and is never seen again.

How much of this is real? Well, Tarquin was a real 6th century BCE king — though the sources vary on whether it’s Tarquinius Priscus or Tarquinius Superbus — but no real records from that period ever existed. The books were real, but they weren’t anything like as old as that. And the Sibyl is purely mythical.

Just in case you’re tempted to think there’s something to the story, bear in mind: the price the old woman asks for is in 4th century BCE Macedonian coinage. 6th century Rome didn’t have coinage.

After the original Sibylline books were burned in 83 BCE, the Romans had replacements made. Allegedly these were pieced together from many places, including cities in Italy, but especially from Erythrai in Anatolia.

The beginning of the sole surviving fragment of the Sibylline books, in cod. Heidelberg. Palat. gr. 398, fol. 226r (image source: Universität Heidelberg library)

The surviving quotations

Later sources tell us that the Sibylline books were written in Greek hexameter verse, and they had acrostics: the first letters of each line also spell out hexameter verses. That’s what Cicero and Dionysios describe, and it’s also what we see in the surviving extracts.

An excerpt of Phlegon of Tralles’ On marvels (2nd century CE) quotes seventy lines from the Sibylline books. Phlegon doesn’t explain how the quotation came to be public knowledge. He treats it as a single quotation, but it’s clear that it’s actually two separate quotations, of 29 and 41 lines. The Greek text is most easily found in Jacoby’s Fragmente der griechischen Historiker.

FGrHist 257 F 36.10 = Hansen 1996: 40–43 (translation), 126–137 (commentary) = cod. Heidelberg. Palatinus. gr. 398 fols. 226r–227r.

The first quotation (lines 1–29) gives instructions for rites to honour Demeter and Persephone. A public coin collection is to be made to fund a ritual sacrifice performed by women, with roles grouped by age (girls, married women, and old women). No alcohol is to be involved in the ritual. The duty of the married women is to carry torches, suggesting that the ritual is supposed to take place at night. The girls sacrifice bulls to Demeter and cows to Persephone, and the old women place the offerings in a fire.

The second quotation (30–70) describes further rituals, this time an expiatory rite to avert evil: an ox to be sacrificed to Demeter, Persephone, and Hades; a goat to Apollo; and a cow to Hera. Again, the text specifies that the ritual must not involve alcohol. The second half of this quotation is an ex eventu ‘prediction’ of the Greek colonisation of Cumae, and the arrival of Trojans in Italy — suggesting that the speaker should be understood as either the Cumaean or Cimmerian Sibyl.

The temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus as depicted in the TV series Rome (2005–2007)

The acrostics

The text has acrostics embedded in the first letter of each line, just as Cicero and Dionysios describe. Each acrostic spells out more hexameter verse. Some letters are missing in the acrostics, implying that the quotations have some lines missing. The first acrostic, in lines 1–29, goes:

<μ>οῖραν ὀπισθομα<θῶν, τίν’ ἔ>φυ πᾶς εἰς τόπον ἐλθ<εῖν>

Everyone learns too late their fate, the place they’re destined to go

This line doesn’t appear in the text Phlegon quotes: he starts with the line corresponding to the ο of <μ>οῖραν. Traditionally scholars have thought the acrostic should be understood as line 1, so that μοῖραν provides its own first letter (Hansen 1996: 129–130). It’s grammatically possible for the acrostic to act as line 1, but I have doubts: it isn’t how Cicero describes the acrostics (On divination 2.(54).112), and it isn’t what we see in the second quotation.

There, the first letters of each line are provided by lines that Phlegon quotes (though there are letters missing elsewhere):

ἵππωι ἀγαλλόμενος, πάλιν αὖ <κα>κὸν εἰς νέον ἥξει
αὐτά<ρ>. . .

Exulting in his horse, he will come back to a new evil,
then . . .

Lines 59 and 60 have to be swapped around to make the νε of νέον.

For now, at least, I’ll entertain the possibility that there’s a line missing for the μ of <μ>οῖραν. So the quoted text and the missing lines are as follows, using Jacoby’s line numbers (and my additions in parentheses). Quotation 1:

• line 1a: the first acrostic
• (line 1b: a missing line corresponding to μ in the first acrostic?)
• 1–13, as quoted by Phlegon
• 13a–g: seven lines missing, corresponding to the missing -θωντινε- in the first acrostic
• 14–29, as quoted
• 29a–c: three lines missing, corresponding to -ειν in the first acrostic

And quotation 2:

• (lines 29d–e: the second acrostic; Jacoby prints it only in the critical apparatus)
• lines 30–52, as quoted
• 52a–b: two lines missing, corresponding to κα- in the second acrostic
• 53–70, as quoted
• an unknown number of lines missing, starting with the ρ of αὐτά<ρ>

Which Sibylline books?

Phlegon says the quotation comes from an occasion in 125 BCE when the senate commanded the hieromnēmones — ‘rite officials’, presumably the decemviri — to consult the Sibylline books on the occasion of the birth of an intersex baby (androgynos). If that’s right, the quotation is from the pre-83 BCE books.

Modern scholars have taken Phlegon at his word. But their focus has been on showing that the quotation is close to 125 BCE because it’s much later than the Roman regal period. It used to need argument to show that it’s Hellenistic. That isn’t a matter for debate these days.

Diels 1890: 77–103; Parke 1988: 137–138; Hansen 1996: 126–127; McInerney 2016.

But I don’t know that there’s been any consideration of the possibility that the quotations are from the replacement books that were compiled after 83 BCE. On balance I don’t think a post-83 date is compelling. But there are good reasons to take it seriously:

• When we’re told that the books were in hexameter, that they contained acrostics, and that they were in Greek, all of that information comes from post-Varro sources.
• No source other than Phlegon claims to describe the pre-83 BCE books.
• Dionysios — who cites Varro — explicitly states that the acrostics are a feature of the replacement books, and that acrostics are a sign that a passage isn’t an ‘interpolation’.
• When Dionysios describes the compilation of the replacement books, he doesn’t claim that they replicated the originals, or that replication was even the goal.
• The quotations are very clearly not from the 6th century BCE. That’s been obvious since Diels, who dated both of them to the last decade of the 200s BCE, based on language, historical context, and metrical features. Some modern studies have considered dates as late as 83.

Just to emphasise: there are no sources telling us what the original books looked like, and there’s no real reason to assume that they looked anything like the replacement books that Varro talked about. It’s perfectly imaginable that Phlegon linked them to an incident of an intersex baby born in 125 BCE solely because lines 4–5 refer to an intersex baby.

The profile of metrical irregularities points to a date no earlier than the 200s BCE:

• 8 cases of ‘Attic’ correption (short syllable before a mute + liquid), 5× word-internal: 10 ἀθροίσας, 34 πάτραι, 44 ἴδρις, 51 πατρίοισι, 56 πατρίοισι; 3× at word-boundary: 48 Παιήονα κρᾶτα, 54 Κυμαίδα πρόφρονες, 68 ὔμμι χρόνος
• 1 violation of Meyer’s First Law (avoidance of a word starting in beats 1–2 and ending in beat 4a or 4b): 33
• 7 violations of Meyer’s Second Law (avoidance of a word with the rhythm ⏑ – in beats 4b–5): 29, 40, 52, 54, 56, 63, 65
• 5 violations of Meyer’s Third Law (avoidance of a word/phrase with the rhythm ⏕ – ⏕ – in beats 6–9): 1a, 27, 36, 41, 66
• 2 violations of Hermann’s Bridge (avoidance of a word/phrase with the rhythm ⏑ – ⏕ – × at line-end, i.e. in beats 8b–12): 41, 51
• 1 violation of Varro’s Bridge (avoidance of a word ending in beat 6 unless it is a monosyllable – or disyllable ⏑⏑): 32
• 1 violation of Tiedke-Meyer’s Law (avoidance of a word/phrase with the rhythm – ⏕ – in beats 7–9): 44
• (no violations of Wernicke’s Law)

I omit irregularities involving a word boundary preceded by a monosyllable, and those involving a word boundary followed by an enclitic.

A closer look at Attic correption shows that the rate of lengthening before mute + liquid consonant clusters is relatively high at word boundaries (16.7%), but considerably lower than most other poets within a word (50.0%). I haven’t been able to track down figures for hexameter poets, but among elegiac poets the closest fit is Mnasalkes (3rd century BCE).

For figures on the incidence of word-initial and word-internal Attic correption in elegiac poets see Slings 1993.

This profile of metrical irregularities would be as unsurprising in a 1st century BCE poet as in the 3rd century. So I think a more compelling fact pointing to a slightly earlier date is the use of iota adscript. I don’t mean iota subscripts in the Phlegon manuscript — that’s 9th century CE — but in the acrostics: the second acrostic depends on iota adscript for its first word, ἵππωι.

That still isn’t conclusive, but it does create a weak presumption in favour of a pre-83 BCE date. Prior to 200 BCE, extant papyri are consistent about including the iota in ωι, ηι, and ᾱι; later, they start to be irregular. So Phlegon’s quotation looks like something dating to the 3rd or 2nd century BCE.

The evidence is compatible with a post-83 BCE date, but I don’t see an orthographic or metrical reason to prefer a post-83 BCE date. For the record I’d quite like to assign a later date! But the evidence isn’t enough to overturn Phlegon’s statement that the quotations were used in 125 BCE.

References

• Cardauns, B. 1976. M. Terentius Varro. Antiquitates rerum divinarum. Teil I: die Fragmente. Wiesbaden.
• Diels, H. 1890. Sibyllinische Blätter. Berlin. [Internet Archive]
• Hansen, W. 1996. Phlegon of Tralles’ Book of marvels. Exeter.
• McInerney, J. 2016. ‘Phlegon of Tralles (257).’ In: Worthington, I. (ed.) New Jacoby. BNJ 257.
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