“Implausible explanations of things that don’t happen”: Galen on Sabinus on first times

Galen talks about ancient readings, his critics, the difference between conversational and written commentary, and why he sometimes feels he has to write as much as he does.

He’s arguing against a reading of Hippocrates by Sabinus. Now Sabinus is a Hippocratic commentator, roughly contemporary with Galen, maybe a generation or two before. Galen sometimes refers to him directly, sometimes he refers to his circle. It’s not clear whether there’s anything to this. Galen thinks Sabinus’ commentaries, along with those of Rufus of Ephesus and Numisianus, are worth reading—high praise from Galen—, but here he takes issue with his comments on an aphorism about sex and gassy bellies. I’m not sure I’ve totally understood what Galen is saying about why Sabinus thinks the passage is about people just starting to have sex, but Galen thinks this is wrong. It’s not impossible that Hippocrates wrote what Sabinus thinks, however, and so Galen needs to defend his reading in another way, namely by appealing to experience. What Sabinus attributes to Hippocrates never happens, at least according to Galen, and since it doesn’t happen, it’s not something Hippocrates is likely to have said.

Thanks to David and Peter for help with the translation.

Here’s the aphorism as recorded in Wenkebach’s text (it’s different from Littré and Smith, which I also inlcude):

“For some, the belly becomes gassy when they have sex, like Damnagoras; for others, a noise in them, like Arcesilaus.”

Οἷσιν, ὅταν ἀφροδισιάζωσι, φυσᾶται ἡ γαστὴρ ὡς Δαμναγόρᾳ, οἷσι δ' ἐν τούτοισι ψόφος <ὡς> Ἀρκεσιλάῳ.

Epidemics 6.3.12 (136,11–13 Wenkebach-Pfaff)

6.3.5 (3.5 V 294,7–8 Littré) οἷσιν, ὅταν ἀφροδισιάζωσι, φυσᾶται ἡ γαστὴρ, ὡς Δαμναγόρᾳ· οἷσι δ' ἐν τούτῳ ψόφος, Ἀρκεσιλάῳ δὲ καὶ ᾤδεεν. Τὸ φυσῶδες ξυναίτιον τοῖσι πιτυρώδεσι, καὶ γάρ εἰσι φυσώδεες.

6.3.5 (236,18–21 Smith) ἔστιν οἷσιν ὅταν ἀφροδισιάζωσι φυσᾶται ἡ γαστὴρ, ὡς Δαμναγόρᾳ, οἷσι δ' ἐν τούτῳ ψόφος. Ἀρκεσιλάῳ δὲ καὶ ᾤδει. τὸ φυσῶδες ξυναίτιον τοῖσι πτερυγώδεσι, καὶ γάρ εἰσι φυσώδεις.

And here is Galen’s commentary:

‘Different people write the passage in different ways, and some add to it the phrase “when they begin”, leaving out the “for some” at the beginning and composing the sentence like this: “when they begin to have sex, the belly becomes gassy”. They want it to say that those who are beginning to have sex, i.e., those who are first trying out this activity, suffer what was indicated in the passage that follows. Now, no ancient book or commentator knows this reading. Nevertheless, Sabinus’ circle says his [i.e. Hippocrates’] account is about those beginning to have sex, even though Hippocrates mentioned one man by name, Damnagoras. This is something he usually does when he goes through something that happens only to a few people. And without anything written about these things by Hippocrates, one should have learned about the phenomenon from experience. For it is not the case that those who are beginning to have sex suffer intestines filled with gas or have a noise contained in them; it is rather that, in rare cases, some of those past their prime and who have the affection called flatulent, hypochondriac and melancholic, more often suffer from intestines filled with gas when they have sex. These same people also have a constant desire for sex.

“Well then, I have said it before many times already: whether I neglect the readings which others have offered in this passage, or whether I talk about them all, there are many people who will find fault with either of them, since they judge the appropriate length of the discussion by their own desires, not the nature of the subject matter. And of course even if I should talk about some things that have been said or written down, and leave out others, even then some of them will blame me because I should have left out some of the things that I discussed since they are clearly frivolous, while I should have discussed some of the things I left out since they are not inferior to what I did discuss. For in our day-to-day intercourse, once we have found out from those present what kind of explanation they want to hear from us, we try to adapt it [sc. the explanation] to their wishes. In a book, however, this is not possible to do. That is why in the majority of passages I generally chose not to mention variants from the ancient reading or interpretations that are altogether unusual. In some cases, however, either when the transmitted text is not altogether implausible *** The readers should keep the commentaries in mind, to mention them in each passage they are burdensome *** [the text is problematic].

‘Sabinus’ circle, then, said that those who attempt sex for the first time suffer what was described in the passage, and assuming this is true, they try to explain the cause of it; but contrary to them, some took [ἐποιήσαντο] this reading of the passage: “it is the case for some that when they have sex, the belly becomes gassy.” Those in Sabinus’ circle say, not without reason, that this happens to those who are beginning to have sex. First, <they say> big and strange changes are happening to the body (for they write like this), and because of these strange changes, epilepsy and nephritis and other chronic conditions affect them. And then <they say> that Democritus said, “man springs from man in sexual intercourse” [DK 32B]. And so for this reason, they say, there is a great deal of irritation since they are unaccustomed to semen and they are affected by the acridity; and in fact the account is common, so they say, to both women and men, and they say the cause in the case of women is clear. For the intestines lie under the womb, while the bladder lies on top of it. It is likely, then, that it holds back the excretion from both when it is stretched and engorged; and so, since the gas is continually stopped up inside, she suffers a build-up of pneuma, and since the urine is stopped, the area around the belly becomes swollen. This, then, is what Sabinus’ circle says, giving implausible explanations of things that do not happen. For these things do not happen to young people when they begin having sex, but to those called melancholic and flatulent, who experience these kinds of things after they are past their prime. For generally being filled with gas occurs because of weakness of the natural heat; when this is strong, none of these things happens.

‘In the Problemata, Aristotle also inquires into the cause on account of which melancholics are sexually excited, and he says they have a lot of gassy pneuma that collects in their hypochondrion, which is why these kinds of affection are called pneumatic and hypochondriac, and both Diocles and Pleistonicus and many other doctors say this is how they are called. It would not be a bad idea to mention a passage from what was written by Aristotle, which goes like this: “Why are melancholics sexually excited? Is it because they are full of pneuma? For semen is an outlet for pneuma. Thus, for this reason when there is much of it, necessarily one often desires to be purged, for then they are relieved” [Problemata 4.30, 880a30-33]. Thus, also for this reason, Rufus chose to write “fear” instead of “noise”, so that Hippocrates’ discussion would be about melancholics, for whom fear is particularly specific. For while their fears are different, there is always some one thing for each of them when they are moderately depressed, otherwise there are two or more, or very many, for some of them even everything. Thus, according to Rufus, the passage will be as follows: “for some, when they have sex, the belly becomes gassy, as for Damnagoras, while for some there is fear in them”; but according to the ancient commentators, it is as it has been written at the start, for I always add their reading, even if it seems to be in error according to the first copyists. For as I have said many times already, once we have said how it was discovered to have been written, we should right away offer some interpretation in addition indicating this very thing. The interpretation of Sabinus’ circle has been discussed.

‘Kapito however wrote it in this way: “It is the case for some, when they have sex, the belly becomes gassy, as for Damnagoras, while for some there is a noise in them.” Dioscorides in this way: “while for some, when they have sex, the belly becomes gassy, as for Damnagoras, for some there is a noise in them.” For he left out the letter delta. Actually, none of the interpreters agree with one another on the interpretation of the word “noise”, some saying it means intestinal rumbling, some belching, some passing gas downwards, some whichever of these is simplest, whatever movement in the intestines is perceptible to hearing, for there are some other motions and “sounds” in the intestines beyond intestinal rumbling, some like echoes, some like hissing or some such manner of noise.

‘“For Arcesilaus, it also used to become swollen.” “For Arcesilaus”, he says, not only did “the belly used to be gassy”, but also “swollen”, i.e., he had an oedema. I have said already many times that he calls all masses that are contrary to nature “oedema”, whether they are inflammatory, erysipelic, or like a hardened swelling; the moderns, however, call only the spongy mass an “oedema”. But just what kind of mass he said Arcesilaus developed is no small inquiry. He seems to me to have meant what is specifically termed such by the moderns. It is implausible that he developed an erysipelas or inflammation or hardened swelling or some other such thing around the time of sexual activities or a little later, and again in addition to not establishing it much. This whole problem has been left out by the commentators. Nevertheless, Hippocrates mentions this Arcesliaus in another place in the book, where he says: “at the onset of this, it is the case that some pass gass, like Arcesilaus.” And so it is clear that for such people the belly is full of gas and that it is caused to be emitted by the tension that arises during sex. Dioscorides wrote the passage in this way: “But for Arcesilaus bad gassiness swelled up” instead of “the gassiness smelled bad”, wanting it to be written in this way, while everyone else begins the second passage with “the gassiness”, as it is written next.’

Καὶ ταύτην τὴν ῥῆσιν ἄλλος ἄλλως γράφει καί τινες προστιθέασιν αὐτῇ τὸ “ὅταν ἄρχωνται”, τὸ κατὰ τὴν ἀρχὴν εἰρημένον «οἷσιν» ἀφαιροῦντες καὶ ποιοῦντες τὴν λέξιν τοιαύτην· “ὅταν ἄρχωνται «ἀφροδισιάζειν, φυσᾶται ἡ γαστήρ»”, βουλόμενοι τοὺς ἀρχομένους ἀφροδισίων, τουτέστι τοὺς πρῶτον ἐπιχειροῦντας τῷ ἔργῳ τούτῳ, πάσχειν τὰ διὰ τῆς ῥήσεως ἐφεξῆς δηλούμενα. καίτοι τὴν γραφὴν ταύτην οὔτε βιβλίον | τι παλαιὸν οὔτ' ἐξηγητὴς οἶδεν. ἀλλ' ὅμως οἱ περὶ τὸν Σαβῖνον ἐπὶ τῶν ἀρχομένων ἀφροδισιάζειν τὸν λόγον αὐτῷ εἶναί φασι, καίτοι μνημονεύσαντος αὐτονομαστὶ τοῦ Ἱπποκράτους ἑνὸς ἀνθρώπου, τοῦ Δαμναγόρου. τοῦτο δ' εἴωθε ποιεῖν, ὅταν ὀλίγοις τισὶ γινόμενον πρᾶγμα διέρχηται. καὶ χωρὶς δὲ τοῦ γεγράφθαι τι περὶ τούτων Ἱπποκράτει τὸ φαινόμενον ἐχρῆν ἐκ τῆς πείρας μαθεῖν. οὐ γὰρ συμβαίνει τοῖς ἀρχομένοις ἀφροδισίων «ἐμφυσᾶσθαι» τὴν κοιλίαν ἢ «ψόφον» ἴσχειν ἐν αὐτῇ, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ἐνίοις ἐν τῷ σπανίῳ τῶν παρακμαζόντων τε καὶ τὸ καλούμενον πάθημα φυσῶδές τε καὶ ὑποχονδριακὸν καὶ μελαγχολικὸν ἐχόντων «ἐμφυσᾶσθαι» συμβαίνει μᾶλλον «τὴν γαστέρα», ὅταν «ἀφροδισίοις» χρήσωνται. τοῖς δ' αὐτοῖς τού<τοις> ὑπάρχει καὶ τὸ συνεχῶς ὀρέγεσθαι μίξεως.

ὅπερ οὖν πολλάκις ἤδη πρόσθεν εἶπον, ἐάν τε παραλείπω τὰς γραφὰς ἃς ἐποιήσαντο κατὰ τήνδε τὴν ῥῆσιν, ἐάν τ' εἴπω πάσας, ἑκατέρῳ μέμψονται πολλοὶ ταῖς ἑαυτῶν ἐπιθυμίαις κρίνοντες τὸ σύμμετρον ἐν τοῖς λόγοις, οὐ τῇ τῶν πραγμάτων φύσει. καὶ μέντοι κἄν | τινα μὲν εἴπω τῶν εἰρημένων τε καὶ γεγραμμένων, τινὰ <δὲ> παραλείπω, καὶ οὕτως ἔσονταί τινες οἱ μεμψάμενοί τινα μὲν τῶν εἰρημένων ὡς ἐχρῆν παραλελεῖφθαι καὶ ταῦτα ληρώδη γε ὄντα, τινὰ δὲ τῶν παραλελειμμένων ὡς ἐχρῆν εἰρῆσθαι μὴ χείρω τῶν εἰρημένων ὄντα. κατὰ μὲν γὰρ τὰς ὁσημέραι γινομένας συνουσίας ὁποίαν τινὰ βούλονται τὴν ἐξήγησιν ἀκούειν οἱ παρόντες, αὐτῶν ἐκείνων πυθόμενοι ἁρμόττεσθαι πειρῶνται ταῖς βουλήσεσιν αὐτῶν. ἐν βιβλίῳ δ' οὐκ ἔστι πρᾶξαι τοῦτο. διόπερ εἱλόμην ἐν μὲν ταῖς πλείσταις τῶν ῥήσεων ἢ μηδ' ὅλως μνημονεύειν τῶν ὑπαλλαττόντων τὴν ἀρχαίαν γραφὴν ἢ παντάπασιν ἀλλοκότως ἐξηγησαμένων. ἐπί τινων δ' ἤτοι τὰ μὴ παντάπασιν ἀπιθάνως εἰρημένα *** μεμνῆσθαι χρὴ τοὺς ἀναγινώσκοντας τὰ ὑπομνήματα καθ' ἑκάστην <γὰρ> τὴν ῥῆσιν ἀναμιμνῄσκειν αὐτῶν ἐπαχθές.

ὅπερ οὖν ἔλεγον οἱ μὲν περὶ τὸν Σαβῖνον ὡς τοῖς πρῴην τῶν ἀφροδισίων πειρωμένοις συμβαίνει τὰ κατὰ τὴν ῥῆσιν εἰρημένα πάσχειν, ὡς ἀληθὲς ὑποθέμενοι πειρῶνται λέγειν τὴν αἰτίαν αὐτοῦ. τινὲς δ' | ἔμπαλιν τοῖσδε τὴν γραφὴν τῆς λέξεως ἐποιήσαντο τοιάνδε· “εἰσὶν «οἷσιν, ὅταν ἀφροδισιάζωσι, φυσᾶται ἡ γαστήρ».” οἱ μὲν περὶ τὸν Σαβῖνον οὐκ ἀλόγως φασὶ τοῖς ἀφροδισιάζειν ἀρχομένοις τοῦτο συμβαίνειν· πρῶτον μὲν ὅτι μέγας ὁ ξενισμὸς γίνεται περὶ τὸ σῶμα (γράφουσι γὰρ οὕτως αὐτοί), δι' ὃν ξενισμόν φασιν ἐπιληψίαν τε καὶ νεφρίτιδας αὐτοῖς ἕτερά τε χρόνια γίνεσθαι· ἔπειτα δὲ καὶ ὅτι <Δημόκριτος> εἶπεν “ἄνθρωπον ἐξ ἀνθρώπου ἐν ταῖς συνουσίαις ἐκθόρνυσθαι”. καὶ μέντοι καὶ διότι φασὶ πολὺν ὀδαξησμὸν διὰ τὴν ἀήθειαν τοῦ θοροῦ καὶ τὴν δριμύτητα πάσχουσι, καὶ κοινοῦ γε, ὡς λέγουσιν, ὄντος τοῦ λόγου θηλειῶν τε καὶ ἀρρένων, ἐπὶ θηλειῶν φασι σαφῆ τὴν αἰτίαν εἶναι· τῇ γὰρ ὑστέρᾳ τὸ μὲν ἔντερον ὑπεστόρεσται , ἡ κύστις δ' ἐπίκειται· εἰκὸς οὖν ἐντεινομένην αὐτὴν καὶ σφριγῶσαν ἐπέχειν τὴν ἀμφοτέρων ἀπόκρισιν· ἐναπολαμβανομένης οὖν τῆς φύσης συνεχῶς ἐμπνευματοῦσθαι καὶ τοῦ οὔρου δὲ κατεχομένου τὸ ἐπιγάστριον οἰδεῖν. ταῦτα μὲν οὖν οἱ περὶ τὸν Σαβῖνον λέγουσιν, ἀπιθάνους αἰτίας ἀποδιδόντες τῶν μὴ γινομένων. οὐ γὰρ συμβαίνει ταῦτα τοῖς ἀρχομένοις ἀφροδισίων μειρακίοις, ἀλλὰ τοῖς μελαγχολικοῖς καὶ φυσώδεσιν ὀνομαζομένοις, οἳ καὶ μετὰ τὴν παρακμαστικὴν ἡλικίαν τὰ τοιαῦτα πάσχουσιν. ὅλως γὰρ τὸ φύσης ἐμπίπλασθαι δι' ἀσθένειαν γίνεται τῆς ἐμφύτου θερμάσιας. ἐρρωμένης γὰρ ταύτης τῶν τοιούτων οὐδὲν συμβαίνει.

Ἀριστοτέλης δ' ἐν τοῖς Προβλήμασι καὶ τὴν αἰτίαν ζητεῖ, δι' ἣν ἀφροδισιαστικοὺς συμβαίνει γίνεσθαι τοὺς μελαγχολικούς, ἀθροίζεσθαί τε πνεῦμά φησιν αὐτοῖς ἐν ὑποχονδρίοις φυσῶδες οὐκ ὀλίγον, διὸ πνευματώδη τε καὶ ὑποχονδριακὰ προσαγορεύεσθαι τὰ τοιαῦτα πάθη, καὶ <Διοκλῆς> δὲ καὶ <Πλειστόνικος> ἕτεροί τε πολλοὶ τῶν ἰατρῶν οὕτως ὀνομάζεσθαί φασιν αὐτά. οὐ χεῖρον δὲ καὶ λέξιν τινὰ τῶν τῷ Ἀριστοτέλει γεγραμμένων εἰπεῖν ἔχουσαν ὧδε· “διὰ τί οἱ μελαγχολικοί <εἰσιν> ἀφροδισιαστικοί; ἢ ὅτι πνευματώδεις. τὸ γὰρ σπέρμα πνεύματος ἔξοδός ἐστι. διότι οὖν πολὺ τὸ τοιοῦτον, ἀνάγκη πολλάκις ἐπιθυμεῖν καθαίρεσθαι, κουφίζονται γάρ.” διὰ τοῦτ' οὖν καὶ Ῥοῦφος [ἔλεγεν] ἀντὶ τοῦ «ψόφος» εἵλετο γρά|φειν “φόβος”, ἵνα ὁ λόγος ᾖ τῷ Ἱπποκράτει περὶ τῶν μελαγχολικῶν, οἷς ἐστιν ἰδιαίτατος ὁ φόβος· ἄλλῳ μὲν γὰρ ἄλλο φοβερόν, ἓν γοῦν τι πάντως καθ' ἕκαστον αὐτῶν, ὅταν γε τὰ μέτρια δυσθυμῶσιν, εἰ δὲ μή, καὶ δύο καὶ πλείω καὶ πάνυ πολλὰ καί τισιν αὐτῶν ἅπαντα. γενήσεται <δ'> οὖν κατὰ μὲν τὸν <Ῥοῦφον> ἡ λέξις οὕτως ἔχουσα· «οἷσιν, ὅταν ἀφροδισιάζωσι, φυσᾶται ἡ γαστήρ, ὡς Δαμναγόρᾳ, οἷσι δ' ἐν τούτοις ὁ φόβος»· κατὰ δὲ τοὺς παλαιοὺς ἐξηγητάς, ὡς ἐν ἀρχῇ γέγραπται, τὴν γὰρ ἐκείνων γραφὴν ἀεὶ προστίθημι, κἂν ἡμαρτῆσθαι δοκῇ κατὰ τοὺς πρώτους ἀντιγραψαμένους. ἄμεινον γάρ, ὡς εἶπον ἤδη πολλάκις, ὅπως εὑρέθη γεγραμμένον εἰπόντας, οὕτως ἤδη προσεπινοεῖν αὐτούς τι δηλοῦντας αὐτὸ τοῦτο. λέλεκται δὲ καὶ ἡ <τῶν> περὶ τὸν Σαβῖνον ἐξήγησις [τε].

Καπίτων δὲ οὕτως ἔγραψεν· ἔστιν «οἷς, ὅταν ἀφροδισιάζωσι, φυσᾶται ἡ γαστήρ, ὡς Δαμναγόρᾳ, οἷσι δ' ἐν τούτοισι, ψόφος». Διοσκουρίδης δὲ οὕτως· «οἷσι μὲν, ὅταν | ἀφροδισιάζωσι, φυσᾶται ἡ γαστήρ, ὡς Δαμναγόρᾳ, οἷσιν ἐν τούτοισι ψόφος». ἀφεῖλε γὰρ οὗτος τὸ δέλτα. οὐ μὴν οὐδὲ κατὰ τὴν ἐξήγησιν τοῦ «ψόφος» ὀνόματος ὡμολόγησαν ἀλλήλοις οἱ ἐξηγηταί, τινὲς μὲν βορβορυγμὸν δηλοῦσθαι λέγοντες, ἔνιοι δ' ἐρυγήν, ἔνιοι δὲ τὰς κάτω διεξιούσας φύσας, ἔνιοι δ' ὅ τι ἂν ᾖ τούτων ἁπλῶς, ἡτισοῦν ἐν τοῖς ἐντέροις κίνησις αἰσθητὴ ταῖς ἀκοαῖς, εἰσὶ γὰρ καὶ ἄλλαι τινὲς ἔξωθεν τῶν βορβορυγμῶν ἐν τοῖς ἐντέροις κινήσεις τε καὶ «ψόφοι», τινὲς μὲν ἤχοις ἐοικότες, τινὲς δὲ συριγμοῖς ἤ τινι τοιουτοτρόπῳ ψόφῳ

Ἀρκεσιλάῳ δὲ <καὶ ᾤδεε. Ἀρκεσιλάῳ>, φησίν, οὐ μόνον «ἐφυσᾶτο ἡ γαστήρ», ἀλλὰ καὶ «ᾤδει», τουτέστιν οἴδημα εἶχεν. εἴρηκα δὲ ἤδη πολλάκις οἴδημα καλεῖν αὐτὸν ἅπαντα τὸν παρὰ φύσιν ὄγκον, εἴτε φλεγμονώδης εἴτ' ἐρυσιπελατώδης εἴτε σκιρρώδης εἴη, τῶν νεωτέρων μόνον τὸν χαῦνον ὄγκον οἴδημα καλούντων. ἀλλά γε ποῖόν τινα λέγει τὸν ὄγκον γενέσθαι τῷ Ἀρκεσιλάῳ, ζήτημά ἐστιν οὐ μικρόν. ἐμοὶ μὲν οὖν δοκεῖ τὸν ἰδίως ὑπὸ τῶν νεωτέρων ὀνομαζόμενον εἰρη|κέναι. [οὐκ] ἔστι δ' ἀπίθανον ἐρυσίπελας ἢ φλεγμονὴν ἢ σκίρρον ἤ τι τῶν τοιούτων <αὐτῷ> γενέσθαι περὶ τὸν τῶν ἀφροδισίων καιρὸν ἢ σμικρὸν ὕστερον, αὖθίς τε μετ' οὐ πολὺ καθίστασθαι τοῦτο. τοῖς δ' ἐξηγηταῖς ὅλον τοῦτο παραλέλειπται τὸ σκέμμα. τοῦ μέντοι Ἀρκεσιλάου τούτου καὶ καθ' ἕτερον τόπον τοῦ βιβλίου μέμνηται ὁ Ἱπποκράτης, ἔνθα φησίν· “ἐν τῇσι προσόδοισιν <ἔστιν> οἳ <ἀπο->ψοφοῦσιν, ὡς Ἀρκεσίλαος.” εὔδηλον οὖν ὅτι τοῖς τοιούτοις φύσης ἐστὶν ἡ γαστὴρ μεστὴ καὶ ταύτην ὑπὸ τῆς γινομένης συντονίας ἐν τοῖς ἀφροδισίοις ἐκκρίνεσθαι συμβαίνει. Διοσκουρίδης δὲ οὕτως ἔγραψε τὴν ῥῆσιν· “Ἀρκεσιλάῳ δὲ κακὸν ὤδει τὸ φυσῶδες”, ἀντὶ τοῦ “κακὸν ὤζετο τὸ φυσῶδες”, ὡδὶ γεγράφθαι βουλόμενος, οἱ δ' ἄλλοι πάντες ἀρχὴν τῆς δευτέρας ῥήσεως ἐποιήσαντο “τὸ φυσῶδες”, ὡς ἐφεξῆς γέγραπται.

Galen, Commentary on Epidemics 6.3.12, 17B.25–32 K. = 136,11–140,23 Wenkebach-Pfaff

***Wenkebach or Pfaff notes the Arabic translation in the apparatus, which they translated into German:

Ich habe bei einigen Reden erwähnt, was nicht sehr weit vom Unbefriedigenden ist, oder was gesagt wurde, wie es sich nicht gehört, aber doch unverdienterweise gelobt wurde.

“In a few discussions, I have mentioned what was not very far from being unsatisfactory, or what was said in a way that was inappropriate, but undeservedly praised.”

The first part seems to translate “ἐπί τινων δ' ἤτοι τὰ μὴ παντάπασιν ἀπιθάνως εἰρημένα […]” = “in a few discussions, <I have> mentioned what was not very far from being unsatisfactory.” The next part is anyone’s guess, but it probably continued the second disjunct ἢ and a finite verb. Then a new sentence and a question whether μεμνῆσθαι goes with χρὴ or not. μεμνῆσθαι χρὴ τοὺς ἀναγινώσκοντας τὰ ὑπομνήματα, καθ' ἑκάστην <γὰρ> τὴν ῥῆσιν ἀναμιμνῄσκειν αὐτῶν ἐπαχθές or μεμνῆσθαι. χρὴ […] ἀναμιμνῄσκειν. If we try the latter and take out Wenkebach’s “γὰρ”, we have: χρὴ <δὲ?> τοὺς ἀναγινώσκοντας τὰ ὑπομνήματα καθ' ἑκάστην τὴν ῥῆσιν ἀναμιμνῄσκειν αὐτῶν ἐπαχθές. This isn’t totally intelligible, and says something like “it is necessary that those who read commentaries in each passage remember them nuisances.” This obviously isn’t right—I have no idea what to do with ἐπαχθές and I’m not sure if καθ' ἑκάστην τὴν ῥῆσιν goes with ὑπομνήματα or ἀναμιμνῄσκειν. I would like it if the passage says what Wenkebach wants it to say (or what I think he wants it to say), something like “it is necessary for the readers to keep the commentaries in mind, for to recall them in each passage would be burdensome”, but I can’t see how this would work. “Nuisance” (ἐπαχθές) seems to modify “the commentaries” (τὰ ὑπομνήματα)—I can’t see what else it might be doing.

Recreating Democritus’ Party Tricks II: Egg Yolks

Revisiting Democritus’ Party Tricks

Here’s an update on my attempt to replicate one of the party tricks or paignia (παίγνια) attributed to Democritus in the London Papyrus 121, col. 5, ll. 1–19.

Since last year, I’ve noticed that several translators have interpreted the word κρόκος to mean egg yolk instead of saffron.

“To make an egg like an apple: after boiling an egg, coat it with a mixture of egg yolk and wine.”

Ὠὸν ὅμοιον μῆλον* γενέσθαι· ζέσας τὸ ὠὸν χρεῖε κρόκῳ μείξας μετ’ οἴνου.

*μήλῳ Wessely

Papyri Graecae Magicae VII 171–172 = VII (Atomists) R127A.2 Laks-Most

I figured it was worth testing the egg-yolk hypothesis experimentally.

In Greek natural philosophical and medical literature, κρόκος normally refers to the saffron crocus, Crocus sativus L., in particular to the dried stigmata from the flowers used as a spice. Since the spice dyes and stains with a strong orange-yellow colour, the name also came to refer to the colour itself, just as κόκκος, the ‘berry’ of the kermes oak, came to be used for the dark red color of plums. At some point, it also came to refer to the yellow part of the egg, much like the English word ‘yolk,’ which comes from old English word geolca, ultimately from OE geolu, ‘yellow.’ (Both yolk and yellow are cognate with the ancient Greek word χλωρός, ‘fresh,’ ‘green,’ ‘yellow,’ which also came to mean egg yolk).

All this means that interpreters have two options when translating κρόκος in our passage: saffron or egg yolk. Maybe because of the egg connection, some interpreters wagered here it means yolk.

It seemed unlikely to me that mixing egg-yolk with wine could produce a dye of any effect, but I decided to try it out using roughly the same procedure I used last year, boiling the eggs and then dying both the shells and the boiled egg whites. I should have used controls, but this is mostly for fun.

The Experiment

I tried to stay as close to the original experiment as possible. I would use red and white wine, brown and white boiled eggs, and paint both the shells and the egg whites with the mixture. I also tested saffron again for comparison.

Testing the egg yolk interpretation: egg yolks, red and white wine, brown and white eggs.

Egg yolks mixed with red and white wine.

Here are the shells painted with egg yolk and saffron. As you can see, none of these looks like apples.

Brown and white egg shells painted and smeared with wine and yolk mixtures.

Then I peeled the eggs and painted the whites — and the yolks too for good measure. The egg painted with saffron and white wine is the most yellow, almost the colour of the yolk. The egg painted with egg yolk and wine also is a bit yellow, but the mixture flowed off pretty quickly without staining the egg at all (see large photo below). Red wine in all cases made the whites blue. If I’d run a control of plain red wine, I imagine the same would have happened. The egg yolks look pretty gross.

Testing yolk vs saffron on cooked egg whites.

Painted and smeared on.

Here the saffron and wine mixture worked much like last time. It produced egg slices that look like peach or apricot. The egg yolk and wine mixture didn’t produce much of anything.

Red wine (top row) makes egg whites go blue, regardless of what is added. White wine with yolk (bottom right) does almost nothing. White wine with saffron (bottom left) turns egg white saffron or peach coloured.

Conclusions

I talked about the results with Glenn Most and André Laks, who went with egg yolks in their translation for the Loeb series. They offered a response that I admit had not occurred to me and is worth keeping in mind: what if the recipe was not meant to work? What if it was designed to fail?

After all, one might suppose that the title, ‘παίγνια’, even if the term is used in an nonstandard way, still has something to do with childish things: games, jokes, ticks, trifles. What if, in this case, the tick is the one played on the person gullible enough to perform it? It’s a least plausible, given some of the tricks:

“To get hard whenever you want. Grind up pepper with honey and rub it on your thing.”

Στ[ύ]ειν ὅτε θέλεις· πέπερι μετὰ μέλιτος τρίψας χρῖέ σου τὸ πρᾶ̣γ̣μ̣α.

Papyri Graecae Magicae VII 186

Could be. Then again, here’s a 2015 patent for a topical preparation to enhance genital sensation using piperine, a primary component of Piper nigrum L., black pepper.

Replication of PGM VII 171-172

A dinner party plate. Can you tell which of these is an egg?

Dinner Advice for New Year’s Eve

Cabbage with Vinegar

“If you are at a dinner party and want to drink a lot and enjoy your meal, before dinner eat as much raw cabbage with vinegar as you like, and likewise, after dining eat around five [cabbage] leaves. It will restore you as if you had eaten nothing, and you can drink as much as you like.”

Si voles in convivio multum bibere cenareque libenter, ante cenam esto crudam quantum voles ex aceto, et item, ubi cenaveris, comesto aliqua V folia; reddet te quasi nihil ederis, bibesque quantum voles.

Cato the Elder, De re rustica 156.1

Appetizer suggestion: Rotkohl.

Baked Pork Lung

“To make those who drink a lot also not get drunk: eat baked pork lung.”

Πολλὰ πίνοντα καὶ μὴ μεθύειν· χοιραῖον πνεύμονα ὀπτήσας φάγε.

Attributed to Democritus, from the collection of Magical Greek Papyri (source here)

First course suggestion: Bopis.

Recreating Democritus’ Party Tricks

I. The Recipe

A while ago, I wrote about a collection of recipes for dinner party games in the Greek magical papyri. The collection is light and frivolous, much more so than its arcane and erotic neighbours. It calls itself paignia—tricks—and it also names its author—Democritus, no less!—something most of the other medical and magical recipes avoid. I doubt anyone thinks Democritus actually wrote these recipes, but I still find the ascription curious. Democritus tends to be associated with magic and alchemy (on this, see Matteo Martelli’s work on the Pseudo-Democritus, and his faculty page + academia.edu), and he’s even sometimes presented as a physician. But these recipes aren’t magic or medicine. They’re party tricks.

Now, along with recipes for drinking without getting drunk and techniques for picking up fellow guests, the text also includes a few practical jokes. The first is a recipe for making bronze tableware look like golden, perhaps an omen of alchemy. I’ll try this one as soon as I get my hands on the materials. Materials for the second one were easier to source: it’s a recipe for making eggs look like apples.

“To make an egg that resembles an apple: having boiled the egg, coat it with a mixture of saffron and wine.”

Ὠὸν ὅμοιον μήλον γενέσθαι· ζέσας τὸ ὠὸν χρεῖε κρόκῳ μείξας μετ’ οἴνου.

PGM VII 170–171

I was recently talking about this recipe with Lucia Raggetti (faculty page, academia.edu) from the AlchemEast project at l’Università di Bologna, who inspired me to try it out. It seemed like a good way to try to understand some puzzles about the text: what kind of eggs would they have used? Did they leave the shell on, like an Easter egg? What kind of wine was it? Does the strength of the wine matter? Could we just use water? And saffron—isn’t it yellow? What kind of yellow apple is this supposed to look like? I would need to experiment.

In the end, with a suggestion from Lucia, I think we’re pretty close to understanding the recipe and getting the joke.

Here’s what I came up with:

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Democritean still life: boiled eggs coated with saffron-infused white wine, cut to resemble peaches (with abnormally large stones).

The goal of the recipe seems to be to make the whites of boiled eggs look like the flesh of peaches or apricots. Maybe this conclusion is a bit speculative, but when I showed the results of the experiments to people, these were the ones they found convincing. The other candidates just looked like badly-dyed eggs.

II. Designing the Experiments

The replication of the recipe taught me that imagination and creativity are about as important for designing such experiments as the text itself. I went into the project with a bunch of assumptions about what the recipe was for, assumptions which turned out to be unjustified. I had assumed, for instance, something about the process, namely that I was going to be making Easter eggs; and I had assumed something about the result, namely that I would end up with things that look like little apples.

Because I was starting from these assumptions, my initial design for the experiment was constrained. I came up with what I thought was a thorough test: I would coat the shells of two kinds of eggs (brown and white) using saffron soaked in two kinds of wine (white and red), and I would run two controls, coating each kind of egg with plain red or white wine.

I didn’t realize how constraining these assumptions were until I ran the experiment. What I got looked… well … the results didn’t make convincing Easter eggs, never mind apples (pictured below).

And as it turns out, I had made two mistakes.

The first was to restrict myself to apples. The word written on the papyrus obviously isn’t the English word “apple”—it’s a Greek word, mēlon (μῆλον). This word is by an interesting historical fluke cognate with the English word “melon,” but in Greek it does not refer to cantaloupes or honeydew. Instead, like its Latin cognate, malum, it refers to some kinds of tree fruit. It is usually translated “apple,” like in the Eve and Adam story; and, indeed, “apple” is what I found in most modern translations of the ps.-Democritean paignia. But of course, mēlon doesn’t really mean apple. Its range of meanings is much wider: peaches, citrons, plums, and apricots are all “apples”, or more accurately mēla. The word covers most of the larger tree fruits, which in Greek are usually distinguished by region. Peaches for example are “Persian mēla”; citrons are “Median mēla”, etc.

I knew this. I’ve even written on it before; but, once I had rashly accepted “apple” as a translation, I forgot about the other possibilities. Instead, I’d anticipated a result that wasn’t implied by the text of the papyrus at all.

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First attempt at the replication. White-shelled eggs with (1) saffron and red wine (left) and (2) saffron and white wine (right). The brown eggs (not pictured) showed no appreciable colour change.

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Peaches, detail, showing characteristic long, slender leaves (left panel of those pictured at the top of the post).

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Dyed eggs sliced with shells on to look like apple slices.

My second mistake was to restrict the experiment to dying shells. I didn’t have a principled reason for doing this and the text itself didn’t suggest it. It was more or less force of habit. I’m just used to dyeing egg shells. That’s not to say it was a bad guess (even though I think it was wrong). What I should have done, however, was set up experiments dyeing all the parts of a boiled egg, because the recipe was vague on precisely this point. It doesn’t say what part of the egg is to be coated after you boil it.

Luckily, Lucia caught the mistake. After seeing my yellow Easter eggs, she suggested that I try slicing them to make them look more like what you might find on a plate at a dinner party. These sliced eggs didn’t come out too badly; and it also opened up the possibilities for experimenting. Once the yolks fell out, the imagination took over. It became clear how close the shape and visible texture of the sliced egg was to a slice of peach or apricot.

Once I coated the slices without the yoke and shell, it was immediately obvious.

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Peach slices, canned. Image from here.

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Boiled egg-white, soaked in white wine infused with saffron.

III. How to Make Eggs that Look Like Peaches

Materials:

• Red wine

• White wine

• Brown eggs

• White eggs

• Saffron (you’ll need lots—I got mine at a market pretty cheap)

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Procedure:

The set up for this experiment is pretty straightforward. It also got a bit messy, so best avoid nice clothes and linens.

1. I placed around 30 saffron stigmata in separate glass bowls and soaked them in approx. 10 ml of red or white wine. I used a lot of saffron—so much you could smell it even at an arm’s distance from the bowl. I might have gotten away with less.

2. I let the saffron soak in the wine for around 15 minutes at room temperature. If you don’t use a lot of saffron, let them soak longer.

3. At first, I tried brushing the wine and saffron onto the egg shells, masking half the egg with tape, brushing on the wine, letting them dry, and then painting on the other half. The difference, though, was so minor that I gave up and simply smeared the mixture onto the shells with my fingers without masking. This got me yellow eggs.

4. Lucia suggested slicing the eggs to hide the egg shape and give the impression of a fruit with a rind. It seemed even better to simply remove the shells altogether and try again.

5. After removing the shells, I rolled the eggs around in the wine and saffron.

6. I then sliced them and coated the slices with the saffron and wine mixture again. Sometimes, I removed a slice and left the yolk intact, dimpled with a pencil to look like a peach stone, so that the whole thing looked like something from the Pompeii frescoes.

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1. Adding wine to the saffron

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2. Letting the saffron soak in the wine

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3. Failed experiment: brushing on the saffron mixture

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4. Sliced egg with shell, resembling white-fleshed quince slices.

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5. Rolling eggs, shelled, in the wine and saffron mixture.

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6. Finished product: sliced, with yolk dimpled to look like a peach pit.

IV. Some Conclusions

I shouldn’t read too much into this experiment, but I can’t help but get excited about it. There is something about the process of replicating an ancient recipe that tempts a feeling of familiarity. It’s like being at their table.

I’d love to believe this experiment counts as a piece of evidence for culinary history, that it tells us people used to serve succulent peach slices at their symposia, maybe even with presentations like those we see in the Pompeian frescoes.

And maybe it’s a stretch, but I’d also like to think it adds something to a passage from Sextus Empiricus about yellow apples that always puzzled me:

“The phenomena that strike our senses seem to be complexes of sensations, just as the apple seems to be smooth, fragrant, sweet, and yellow.”

ἕκαστον τῶν φαινομένων ἡμῖν αἰσθητῶν ποικίλον ὑποπίπτειν δοκεῖ, οἷον τὸ μῆλον λεῖον εὐῶδες γλυκὺ ξανθόν.

Sextus Empiricus, Outlines of Pyrrhonism, 1.94

Maybe Sextus and Democritus went to the same kinds of parties.

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Why you probably shouldn’t invite Democritus to your dinner party

Dinner parties can be dull, even in ancient Greece. Democritus’ solution was to prank the hosts, eat lots of garlic, and try to sleep with everyone. No wonder he was called the laughing philosopher.

Here is all of his advice, some of it terrible (find the introvert, rub honey on their face, and tell them to lighten up), some not so bad (a cure for garlic breath), some that uses language I wouldn’t have expected (βινεῖν, στύειν, words discussed by sententiae antiquae). It’s almost certainly not by Democritus; still, it says something about how people might have imagined a night like this would go.

The text is included in the collection of Greek Magical Papyri, the edition of which is available online, with German translation, at the University of Heidelberg Library (vol 1) (vol 2). An English translation with notes is available at archive.org.

Democritus’ Party Tricks (paignia)

To make bronzeware look golden: mix unfired (i.e., native) sulfur with chalky earth and wipe it with it.
To make an egg like an apple: after boiling an egg, coat it with a mixture of saffron and wine.
To make it so that the cook can’t light the fire: put a house-leek plant on his stove.
To make it so that those who eat garlic don’t smell: bake some beetroot and eat it.
To make an old woman stop blathering and drinking so much: chop up some pine and toss it in her drink.
To make the painted gladiators fight. Smoke some hare’s head underneath them.
To make cold hors-d'oeuvres burn the person eating them. Soak squill in warm water and give it to him to wash his hands with. Relieve with oil.
To make those who have a hard time mingling more easy going. Give them gum with wine and honey to rub on their face.
To make those who drink a lot not get drunk. Eat baked pork lung.
To make those who have to walk home not get thirsty. Chug an egg beaten in wine.
To be able to fuck a lot. Grind up fifty small pine cones with two ladles of sweet wine and pepper corns and drink it.
To get hard whenever you want. Grind up pepper with honey and rub it on your thing.

Δημοκρίτου παίγνια·
Τὰ χαλκᾶ χρυσᾶ ποιῆσαι φαίνεσθαι· θεῖον ἄπυρον
μετὰ γῆς κρητηρίας μείξας ἔκμασσε.
Ὠὸν ὅμοιον μήλον γενέσθαι· ζέσας τὸ ὠὸν χρεῖε κρόκῳ
μείξας μετ’ οἴνου. Μάγειρον μὴ δύνασθαι τὴν πυρὰν
ἀνάψαι· βοτάνην ἀεί[ζω]ον θὲς αὐτοῦ εἰς τὴν ἑστίαν.
Φαγόντα σκόρδον μὴ ὄζειν· [ῥ]ίζας <σ>εύτλου ὀπτήσας φάγε.
Γραῦν μήτε πολλὰ λαλεῖν μήτε πολλὰ πίνειν· πίτυν
κόψας βάλε αὐτῆς εἰς τ[ὸ] κράμμα. Μονομάχας ἐζωγραφη-
μένους μάχεσθαι· ὑποκάτω αὐτῶν κάπνισον λαγοῦ κεφαλήν.
Ψυχρὰ τρώγοντα κατακαίεσθαι· σκίλλαν εἰς ὕδωρ χλιαρὸν
βρέξας δὸς αὐτῷ νίψασ[θ]αι. λύσις ἐλαίῳ. Τοὺς [μεμ]ει-
[γμ]ένους μόγις ε̣[ὖ] ποι[εῖ]ν̣· κόμι μετὰ οἴνου καὶ [μέλιτο]ς
δὸς εἰς τὴν ὄψιν μυρ[ίσα]σθαι. Πολλὰ πίνοντα καὶ μὴ με-
θύειν· χοιραῖον πνεύμονα ὀπτήσας φάγε. Ὁδοιποροῦντα
μὴ διψᾶν· ὠὸν <εἰς> οἶνον ἀνακόψας ῥόφα. Πολλὰ βι[ν]εῖν
δύνασθαι· στροβίλια πεντήκοντα μετὰ δύο κυά[θ]ων
γλυκέος καὶ κόκκους πεπέρεως τρίψας πίε. Στ[ύ]ειν,
ὅτε θέλεις· πέπερι μετὰ μέλιτος τρίψας χρῖέ σου τὸ πρᾶ̣γ̣μ̣α.

Papyri Graecae Magicae VII 168-186

An ancient debate on music therapy

Musical therapy has been shown to be effective at reducing pain. That might not be surprising, but it's nice that people are researching ways of dealing with pain that are not just pharmacological. What's curious to me about the passages and the debate below isn't so much that they talk about music (particularly flute music) as a way of curing the pain, or that others would deny it. I'm curious (a) why Theophrastus would have talked about musical therapy in a text on enthusiasm (a kind of frenzy of divine possession normally associated with ritual cults); and (b) whether it suggests there was a discussion going on among people like Theophrastus and Democritus (or a pseudo-Democritus - here is a great article by Matteo Martelli) about whether music causes enthusiasm, how enthusiasm is related to pain, and what it suggests about the affinity of mind and body. It'd also be nice to know why you have to play the flute right over the part of the body that's in pain.

---

"It is worth mentioning the treatment <which> Theophrastus talks about in his book On Enthusiasm. He says that music cures many of the illnesses that occur in the soul and the body, like swooning, fear and long-term mental derangement. He says flute playing in particular cures sciatica and epilepsy, just like it did for the person who went to see Aristoxenus the musician..."

Ἄξια δ' ἐστὶν ἐπιστάσεως [τὰ εἰρημένα.] <ἃ> Θεόφραστος ἐν τῷ περὶ ἐνθουσιασμοῦ ἐξεῖπεν. φησὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖνος τὴν μουσικὴν πολλὰ τῶν ἐπὶ ψυχὴν καὶ τὸ σῶμα γιγνομένων παθῶν ἰατρεύειν, καθάπερ λιποθυμίαν, φόβους καὶ τὰς ἐπὶ μακρὸν γιγνομένας τῆς διανοίας ἐκστάσεις. ἰᾶται γάρ, φησίν, ἡ καταύλησις καὶ ἰσχιάδα καὶ ἐπιληψίαν· καθάπερ πρὸς Ἀριστόξενον τὸν μουσικὸν ἐλθόντα [text is corrupt after this point]...

Apollonius Paradoxographus, Historiae Mirabiles c. 49.

"That music cures diseases, Theophrastus discusses in his book On Enthusiasm, where he says that those suffering from sciatica become free of the disease when someone plays a Phrygian arrangement on the flute over the affected place."

ὅτι δὲ καὶ νόσους ἰᾶται μουσικὴ Θεόφραστος ἱστόρησεν ἐν τῷ περὶ Ἐνθουσιασμοῦ ἰσχιακοὺς φάσκων ἀνόσους διατελεῖν, εἰ καταυλήσοι τις τοῦ τόπου τῇ Φρυγιστὶ ἁρμονίᾳ.

Athenaeus of Naucratis, Deipnosophistae 14.18

"I recently found a passage in a book of Theophrastus, which says that many people believe and have written down that when sciatica is especially painful, their pains are diminished if a flute-player plays a gentle melody. That flute playing, when done with skill and measure, also cures snake bites is mentioned in a book by Democritus, which is called [there's a lacuna], in which he shows that music from flutes is a cure for many human diseases. There is so great an affinity between people's bodies and minds, and for this reason as well between the illnesses and also remedies of the soul and the body."

Creditum hoc a plerisque esse et memoriae mandatum, ischia cum maxime doleant, tum, si modulis lenibus tibicen incinat, minui dolores, ego nuperrime in libro Theophrasti scriptum inveni. Viperarum morsibus tibicinium scite modulateque adhibitum mederi refert etiam Democriti liber, qui inscribitur . . ., in quo docet plurimis hominum morbidis medicinae fuisse incentiones tibiarum. Tanta prosus adfinitas est corporibus hominum mentibusque et propterea vitiis quoque aut medellis animorum et corporum.

Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights, 4.13

"Some doctors prescribe the use of music [for sciatica], as the brother of Philistion also mentions in Book 22 of On Remedies. He writes that there was a piper who would play songs over the part that was in pain, which would begin to pulse and palpitate, relieving and freeing him from the pain. Some say Pythagoras discovered this kind of remedy. But in Soranus' opinion, whoever believes that a powerful disease is removed by music and song suffers from a vain delusion."

"item alii cantelenas adhibendas probaverunt, ut etiam Philistionis frater idem memorat libro XXII De adiutoriis, scribens quendam fistulatorem loca dolentia decantasse, quae cum saltum sumerent palpitando discusso dolore mitescerent. alii denique hoc adiutorii genus Pithagoram memorant invenisse. sed Sorani iudicio videntur hi mentis vanitate iactari qui modulis et cantilena passionis robur excludi crediderunt."

Caelius Aurelianus, On Chronic Diseases, 5.23 (pp.918-20 Drabkin)

(Plato on) Democritus and Aristotle (on Plato) on Art and Nature

“We know how to say many lies like the truth,
And we know how to sing the truth when we want to.”

ἴδμεν ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγειν ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα,
ἴδμεν δ᾽, εὖτ᾽ ἐθέλωμεν, ἀληθέα γηρύσασθαι.

Hesiod, Theogony, 26-7

I

“We are pupils [μαθητὰς] of the animals in the most important things: the spider in spinning and mending, the swallow in building, and the songsters, swan and nightingale, in singing, by way of imitation [κατὰ μίμησιν].”

μαθητὰς ἐν τοῖς μεγίστοις γεγονότας ἡμᾶς· ἀράχνης ἐν ὑφαντικῆι καὶ ἀκεστικῆι, χελιδόνος ἐν οἰκοδομίαι, καὶ τῶν λιγυρῶν, κύκνου καὶ ἀηδόνος, ἐν ὠιδῆι κατὰ μίμησιν.

Democritus, DK 68 B154

II

“I'll put it more clearly. They say fire and water and earth and air, all exist by nature and chance [φύσει πάντα εἶναι καὶ τύχῃ], and none of them by art [τέχνῃ δὲ οὐδὲν τούτων]; and the bodies which come next—those, namely, of the earth, sun, moon and stars—have been brought into existence through those [former ones] which are entirely without soul. By chance, they are moved by each other’s forces, through which they crash into each other, somehow fitting together: hot with cold, dry with moist, soft with hard, and all such things that are blended together from necessity through the mixture of opposites by chance. In this way and by those means they have brought into being the whole heaven and all that is in the heaven, and again all animals and plants when all the seasons came to be from these things. [All this], they claim, is not due to reason, or because of some god or some art [οὐ δὲ διὰ νοῦν, φασίν, οὐδὲ διά τινα θεὸν οὐδὲ διὰ τέχνην], but, as I said, by nature and by chance. And art comes from them later, after [everything else]; itself a mortal from mortals, it begets later playthings [παιδιάς τινας] which do not share much in truth [ἀληθείας οὐ σφόδρα μετεχούσας], but are instead images [εἴδωλ’] closely related to [arts] themselves, like [the images] painting makes, and music, and whichever arts are their helpers. Those arts which in fact engender something serious [σπουδαῖον] are whichever ones share their capacity with nature—like medicine, agriculture, and gymnastic.”

Ὧδ' ἔτι σαφέστερον ἐρῶ. πῦρ καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ γῆν καὶ ἀέρα φύσει πάντα εἶναι καὶ τύχῃ φασίν, τέχνῃ δὲ οὐδὲν τούτων, καὶ τὰ μετὰ ταῦτα αὖ σώματα, γῆς τε καὶ ἡλίου καὶ σελήνης ἄστρων τε πέρι, διὰ τούτων γεγονέναι παντελῶς ὄντων ἀψύχων· τύχῃ δὲ φερόμενα τῇ τῆς δυνάμεως ἕκαστα ἑκάστων, ᾗ συμπέπτωκεν ἁρμόττοντα οἰκείως πως, θερμὰ ψυχροῖς ἢ ξηρὰ πρὸς ὑγρὰ καὶ μαλακὰ πρὸς σκληρά, καὶ πάντα ὁπόσα τῇ τῶν ἐναντίων κράσει κατὰ τύχην ἐξ ἀνάγκης συνεκεράσθη, ταύτῃ καὶ κατὰ ταῦτα οὕτως γεγεννηκέναι τόν τε οὐρανὸν ὅλον καὶ πάντα ὁπόσα κατ' οὐρανόν, καὶ ζῷα αὖ καὶ φυτὰ σύμπαντα, ὡρῶν πασῶν ἐκ τούτων γενομένων, οὐ δὲ διὰ νοῦν, φασίν, οὐδὲ διά τινα θεὸν οὐδὲ διὰ τέχνην ἀλλά, ὃ λέγομεν, φύσει καὶ τύχῃ. τέχνην δὲ ὕστερον ἐκ τούτων ὑστέραν γενομένην, αὐτὴν θνητὴν ἐκ θνητῶν ὕστερα γεγεννηκέναι παιδιάς τινας, ἀληθείας οὐ σφόδρα μετεχούσας, ἀλλὰ εἴδωλ' ἄττα συγγενῆ ἑαυτῶν, οἷ' ἡ γραφικὴ γεννᾷ καὶ μουσικὴ καὶ ὅσαι ταύταις εἰσὶν συνέριθοι τέχναι· αἳ δέ τι καὶ σπουδαῖον ἄρα γεννῶσι τῶν τεχνῶν, εἶναι ταύτας ὁπόσαι τῇ φύσει ἐκοίνωσαν τὴν αὑτῶν δύναμιν, οἷον αὖ ἰατρικὴ καὶ γεωργικὴ καὶ γυμναστική.

Plato, Laws X 889B1-D6

III

“Of things that come to be, some come to be from some kind of thought and art [ἀπό τινος διανοίας καὶ τέχνης], for example a house or a ship (for one cause of each of these is a kind of art and thought), while others come to be from no art at all, but from nature [διὰ φύσιν]. For the cause of animals and plants is nature and all such things come to be in accordance with nature. But then some things come to be from chance [διὰ τύχην] as well, for we say most things that come to be neither from art nor from nature nor of necessity come to be from chance. So then, nothing of what comes to be from chance comes to be for the sake of anything, nor do they have any end; however, in what comes to be from art there exists both the end and the for the sake of which (for one who possesses the art always will give you a reason [λόγον] because of which and for the sake of which he wrote), and this [because it] is better than what comes to be because of it. I mean the things of which art is a cause naturally in itself and not accidentally. For we should assume medicine is properly [a cause] of health rather than disease, while housebuilding is [a cause] of the house and not of its demolition. Therefore, everything that comes to be in accordance with art comes to be for the sake of something and this end is its best; yet, what is from chance does not come to be for the sake of something, for even should something good occur from chance, nevertheless surely it is not good in accordance with chance and insofar as it is from chance; instead what comes to be in accordance with it is always indeterminate. What is in accordance with nature [τὸ κατά γε φύσιν], however, comes to be for the sake of something and is always composed for the sake of a better thing than that [which comes to be] from art. For it is not the case that nature imitates art, but art nature [μιμεῖται γὰρ οὐ τὴν τέχνην ἡ φύσις ἀλλ' αὐτὴ τὴν φύσιν], and it exists to help and compensate for nature’s deficiencies.”

Τῶν γιγνομένων τὰ μὲν ἀπό τινος διανοίας καὶ τέχνης γίγνεται, οἷον οἰκία καὶ πλοῖον (ἀμφοτέρων γὰρ τούτων αἰτία τέχνη τίς ἐστι καὶ διάνοια), τὰ δὲ διὰ τέχνης μὲν οὐδεμιᾶς, ἀλλὰ διὰ φύσιν· ζῴων γὰρ καὶ φυτῶν αἰτία φύσις, καὶ κατὰ φύσιν γίγνεται πάντα τὰ τοιαῦτα. ἀλλὰ μὴν καὶ διὰ τύχην ἔνια γίγνεται τῶν πραγμάτων· ὅσα γὰρ μήτε διὰ τέχνην μήτε διὰ φύσιν μήτ' ἐξ ἀνάγκης γίγνεται, τὰ πολλὰ τούτων διὰ τύχην γίγνεσθαί φαμεν. Τῶν μὲν οὖν ἀπὸ τύχης γιγνομένων οὐδὲν ἕνεκά του γίγνεται, οὐδ' ἔστι τι τέλος αὐτοῖς· τοῖς δ' ἀπὸ τέχνης γιγνομένοις ἔνεστι καὶ τὸ τέλος καὶ τὸ οὗ ἕνεκα (ἀεὶ γὰρ ὁ τὴν τέχνην ἔχων ἀποδώσει σοι λόγον δι' ὃν ἔγραψε καὶ οὗ ἕνεκα), καὶ τοῦτο [ὅτι] βέλτιόν ἐστιν ἢ τὸ διὰ τοῦτο γιγνόμενον. λέγω δ' ὅσων καθ' αὑτὴν ἡ τέχνη πέφυκεν αἰτία καὶ μὴ κατὰ συμβεβηκός· ὑγιείας μὲν γὰρ ἰατρικὴν μᾶλλον ἢ νόσου κυρίως ἂν θείημεν, οἰκοδομικὴν δ' οἰκίας, ἀλλ' οὐ τοῦ καταβάλλειν. πᾶν ἄρα ἕνεκά του γίγνεται τὸ κατὰ τέχνην, καὶ τοῦτο τέλος αὐτῆς τὸ βέλτιστον, τὸ μέντοι διὰ τύχην οὐ γίγνεται ἕνεκά του· συμβαίη μὲν γὰρ ἂν καὶ ἀπὸ τύχης τι ἀγαθόν, οὐ μὴν ἀλλά γε κατὰ τὴν τύχην καὶ καθόσον ἀπὸ τύχης οὐκ ἀγαθόν, ἀόριστον δ' ἀεὶ τὸ γιγνόμενόν ἐστι κατ' αὐτήν. Ἀλλὰ μὴν τὸ κατά γε φύσιν ἕνεκά του γίγνεται, καὶ βελτίονος ἕνεκεν ἀεὶ συνίσταται ἢ καθάπερ τὸ διὰ τέχνης· μιμεῖται γὰρ οὐ τὴν τέχνην ἡ φύσις ἀλλ' αὐτὴ τὴν φύσιν, καὶ ἔστιν ἐπὶ τῷ βοηθεῖν καὶ τὰ παραλειπόμενα τῆς φύσεως ἀναπληροῦν.

Aristotle, Protrepticus 9, 49.3-50.2