Galen on what to do with a patient who thinks the sky will fall

"I know a man from Cappadocia who had put a nonsensical thing in his head and because of it fell into melancholy. The idea he had put in his head was frankly ridiculous. His friends saw him cry and asked him about his sorrow. Sighing deeply, he answered by saying he was afraid the whole world would collapse. His worry was that the Titan, who the poets say holds up the world and is called Atlas, had become weak because of the length of time he has been holding it up, and therefore, there is a danger that the heavens will fall down to earth and smash to pieces. You have also heard from me the story of the woman who I mentioned had imagined she swallowed a snake, and the story of the man who believed that a ghost had called out to him as he passed the churchyard, and the story of the man who had farted in the presence of other people, and who wasted away and died out of shame. The physician must therefore consider it his job, besides the other dispositions of the patient, to discover the things that oppress his soul. For healing a person for whom the cause of illness lies in his spirit can only be achieved by eliminating the idea that has become fixed, but not by food and drink, or their home, bathing routine, walking and the like."

Ich kenne einen Mann aus Kappadokien, der sich eine unsinnige Sache in den Kopf gesetzt hatte und dadurch der Melancholie verfiel. Die Idee, die er sich in den Kopf gesetzt hatte, war geradezu lächerlich. Seine Bekannten sahen ihn nämlich weinen und fragten ihn nach seinem Kummer. Indem er tief seufzte, antwortete er und sagte, er sei in Angst, daß die ganze Welt einstürze. Sein Kummer sei, daß der König, von dem die Dichter erzählen, daß er die Welt trage und Atlas heiße, infolge der langen Zeit, in der er sie trage, schwach to geworden sei. Deshalb sei Gefahr, daß der Himmel auf die Erde herabstürze und sie zertrümmere. Ihr habt von mir auch schon die Geschichte der Frau gehört, von der ich erzählte, daß sie sich einbildete, eine Schlange verschluckt zu haben, und die Geschichte des Mannes, der glaubte, daß ein Toter ihn gerufen habe, als er am Kirchhof vorbeiging, und die Geschichte von dem Mann, dem in Anwesenheit von Leuten ein Wind entfahren war und der aus Scham darüber hin siechte und starb. Der Arzt muß also es als seine Aufgabe betrachten, außer den übrigen Neigungen des Kranken auch die Dinge ausfindig zu machen, die seinen Geist bedrücken. Denn die Heilung eines Menschen, dessen Krankheitsursache in seinem Geiste liegt, kann nur durch Beseitigung der fixen Idee, nicht aber durch Speisen und Getränke, durch Wohnung, Baden, Marschieren und dergleichen erreicht werden.*

Galen, Commentary on Hippocrates' Epidemics VI, 8  (487,3-23 Wenkebach/Pfaff)

*Pfaff's German translation of Hunayn's school's Arabic translation (the Greek is lost). 

Heraclides of Pontus on the joy of madness

“In his book On Pleasure, Heraclides of Pontus relates not unpleasantly that a most pleasant luxury occured during a fit of madness. He writes:

‘Thrasyllus from Aexone, the son of Pythodorus, once went so mad that he thought all the ships arriving at Piraeus were his own. He would register them, dispatch them, and manage their affairs. When they returned to port, he would welcome them with the kind of joy you might expect from someone who was really in charge of such great wealth. When ships were lost, he did not inquire after them, but he rejoiced at every one that was saved and recounted it with greatest delight. When his brother Crito came to visit from Sicily, he took him into custody, handed him over to a doctor, and put an end to his madness. Afterwards, Thrasyllus would tell the story, saying that he had never in his life been happier, for he felt not pain whatsoever, while the amount of pleasure he felt was overwhelming.’”

ἐν μανίᾳ δὲ τρυφὴν ἡδίστην γενομένην οὐκ ἀηδῶς ὁ Ποντικὸς Ἡρακλείδης διηγεῖται ἐν τῷ περὶ Ἡδονῆς οὕτως γράφων· ‘ὁ Αἰξωνεὺς Θράσυλλος ὁ Πυθοδώρου διετέθη ποτὲ ὑπὸ μανίας τοιαύτης ὡς πάντα τὰ πλοῖα τὰ εἰς τὸν Πειραιᾶ καταγόμενα ὑπολαμβάνειν ἑαυτοῦ εἶναι, καὶ ἀπεγράφετο αὐτὰ καὶ ἀπέστελλε καὶ διῴκει καὶ καταπλέοντα ἀπεδέχετο μετὰ χαρᾶς τοσαύτης ὅσησπερ ἄν τις ἡσθείη τοσούτων χρημάτων κύριος ὤν. καὶ τῶν μὲν ἀπολομένων οὔτε ἐπεζήτησεν, τοῖς δὲ σῳζομένοις ἔχαιρεν καὶ διῆγεν μετὰ πλείστης ἡδονῆς. ἐπεὶ δὲ ὁ ἀδελφὸς αὐτοῦ Κρίτων ἐκ Σικελίας ἐπιδημήσας συλλαβὼν αὐτὸν παρέδωκεν ἰατρῷ καὶ τῆς μανίας ἐπαύσατο, διηγεῖτο <...> οὐδεπώποτε φάσκων κατὰ τὸν βίον ἡσθῆναι πλείονα· λύπην μὲν γὰρ οὐδ' ἡντινοῦν αὐτῷ παραγίνεσθαι, τὸ δὲ τῶν ἡδονῶν πλῆθος ὑπερβάλλειν.’ 

Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae 12.81 (p.223-4 Kaibel)

Draw down the moon, hide it in a mirror. On Thessalian medicine women

“Thessalian woman”: refers to medicine women, since the Thessalians are accused of being sorcerers. Even to the present day, Thessalian women are called medicine women (pharmakides). They say it's because when Medea fled, she tossed her basket of medicines (pharmaka) and there they sprouted. Attic speakers read it with a barytone accent [Thes–SA–ly instead of Thes–sa–LY]. Aristophanes: “if I bought a Thessalian woman, I could draw down the moon at night, then hide it like a mirror.” For the orb of the moon has a round shape like a mirror, and they say that people who are skilled in these kinds of things draw down the moon with it (sc. a mirror). There’s also Pythagoras’ trick with a mirror that goes like this: when the moon is full, if someone writes in blood on a mirror whatever he wishes and, while standing behind another person, proclaims against him and shows the words to the moon, if he then looks closely at the orb of the moon, then he can read all that is written on the mirror as if it were written on the moon.

Θετταλὴ γυνή: ἐπὶ τῶν φαρμακίδων. διαβάλλονται γὰρ οἱ Θετταλοὶ ὡς γόητες· καὶ μέχρι καὶ νῦν φαρμακίδες αἱ Θετταλαὶ καλοῦνται. φασὶ δὲ ὅτι ἡ Μήδεια φεύγουσα κίστην ἐξέβαλε φαρμάκων ἐκεῖ, καὶ ἀνέφυσαν. βαρυτόνως δὲ οἱ Ἀττικοὶ ἀναγινώσκουσιν. Ἀριστοφάνης· γυναῖκα πριάμενος Θετταλὴν καθέλκοιμι νύκτωρ τὴν σελήνην· εἶτα καθείρξαιμ' ὥσπερ κάτοπτρον. ὁ γὰρ τῆς σελήνης κύκλος στρογγυλοειδὴς ὡς ἔσοπτρον. καί φασι τοὺς περὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα δεινοὺς τούτῳ κατάγειν τὴν σελήνην. ἔστι δὲ καὶ Πυθαγόρου παίγνιον διὰ κατόπτρου τοιοῦτον. πληροσελήνου τῆς σελήνης οὔσης, εἴ τις ἔσοπτρον ἐπιγράψειεν αἵματι, ὅσα βούλεται, καὶ προειπὼν ἑτέρῳ σταίη κατόπιν αὐτοῦ, δείκνυσι πρὸς τὴν σελήνην τὰ γράμματα, κἀκεῖνον ἀτενίσαι πλησίον εἰς τὸν τῆς σελήνης κύκλον, ἀναγνοίη πάντα τὰ ἐν τῷ κατόπτρῳ γεγραμμένα, ὡς τῇ σελήνῃ γεγραμμένα.

Suda, theta entry 289

“You're drawing the moon down to yourself”: the Thessalian women who draw down the moon are said to lose their eyes and feet.

Ἐπὶ σαυτῷ τὴν σελήνην καθέλκεις: αἱ τὴν σελήνην καθέλκουσαι Θετταλίδες λέγονται τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν καὶ τῶν ποδῶν στερίσκεσθαι.

Suda, epsilon entry 2559

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Socrates: First, tell me what it is you want for yourself.

Strepsiades (lying naked in bed): You’ve heard a thousand times what I want: I don't want to have to pay back any interest on my debts.

Socrates: Come now, cover yourself up. Loosen up your mind a little bit. Think about your affairs, analyze and investigate them properly.

Strepsiades: This sucks.

Socrates: Stay calm. If you get caught up in some of your thoughts, put them to the side and move on. Later on, turn your mind to them again and examine them.

Strepsiades (after thinking): ... oh, little Socrates! You’re the best!

Socrates: What is it, old man?

Strepsiades: I have a plan to get out of paying any interest!

Socrates: Show me.

Strepsiades: Alright now, tell me...

Socrates: Tell you what?

Strepsiades: ...if I bought a medicine woman, a Thessalian one, I could bring down the moon at night, then hide it in a round case like the ones we use for mirrors and keep it there.

Socrates: Ok, but how would this help you?

Strepsiades: Because if the moon didn’t rise, I wouldn't have to pay back any interest.

Socrates: Yeah, but why not?

Strepsiades: Because interest is charged by the month.

{Σω.} αὐτὸς ὅτι βούλει πρῶτος ἐξευρὼν λέγε. 

{Στ.} ἀκήκοας μυριάκις ἁγὼ βούλομαι, περὶ τῶν τόκων, ὅπως ἂν ἀποδῶ μηδενί.

{Σω.} ἴθι νυν καλύπτου, καὶ σχάσας τὴν φροντίδα λεπτὴν κατὰ μικρὸν περιφρόνει τὰ πράγματα ὀρθῶς διαιρῶν καὶ σκοπῶν.

{Στ.} οἴμοι τάλας.

{Σω.} ἔχ' ἀτρέμα· κἂν ἀπορῇς τι τῶν νοημάτων, ἀφεὶς ἄπελθε, κᾆτα τῇ γνώμῃ πάλιν κίνησον αὖθις αὐτὸ καὶ ζυγώθρισον.

{Στ.} ὦ Σωκρατίδιον φίλτατον.

{Σω.} τί, ὦ γέρον;

{Στ.} ἔχω τόκου γνώμην ἀποστερητικήν.

{Σω.} ἐπίδειξον αὐτήν.

{Στ.} εἰπὲ δή νυν μοι – 

{Σω.} τὸ τί;

{Στ.} γυναῖκα φαρμακίδ' εἰ πριάμενος Θετταλὴν καθέλοιμι νύκτωρ τὴν σελήνην, εἶτα δὴ αὐτὴν καθείρξαιμ' εἰς λοφεῖον στρογγύλον ὥσπερ κάτροπτον, κᾆτα τηροίην ἔχων.

{Σω.} τί δῆτα τοῦτ' ἂν ὠφελήσειέν σ'; 

{Στ.} ὅτι εἰ μηκέτ' ἀνατέλλοι σελήνη μηδαμοῦ, οὐκ ἂν ἀποδοίην τοὺς τόκους.

{Σω.} ὁτιὴ τί δή;

{Στ.} ὁτιὴ κατὰ μῆνα τἀργύριον δανείζεται.

Aristophanes, Clouds, ll. 737-756

“I'm amazed that this rumour has stuck so firmly to Achilles’ people (sc. the Thessalians) that even Menander, who wrote works with unrivaled subtlety, called a play “The Woman from Thessaly”, which describes these women’s tricks for bringing down the moon. I would have thought that Orpheus was the first to introduce the art from his region to his neighbours’ and that the superstition developed from medicine, if it weren’t the case that Thrace—Orpheus’ homeland—was completely free of the art of magic.”

miror equidem Achillis populis famam eius in tantum adhaesisse, ut Menander quoque, litterarum subtilitati sine aemulo genitus, Thessalam cognominaret fabulam complexam ambages feminarum detrahentium lunam. Orphea putarem e propinquo artem primum intulisse ad vicina usque superstitionis ac medicinae provectum, si non expers sedes eius tota Thrace magices fuisset.

Pliny the Elder, Natural History, 30.2.7

Two ways to talk about eggs

Two discussions of eggs: one, from Michael of Ephesus, on the egg as a boundary between death and life; another, from Aetius of Amida, on the best way to cook eggs (soft boiled, soaked in wine and fish sauce and cooked on a double-boiler).

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Lemma: “The reason for this is that nature produces the eggs, as it were, before [their] time, because of its own incompleteness…” (Aristotle, Generation of Animals 3.8, 758b19)

"In what follows, he (sc. Aristotle) discusses the reason why insects produce at first a grub which moves itself and is generally speaking an animal; then, once the grub has grown, it turns into an egg, lacking sensation and movement; then it turns into a different animal from the grub. He says that since an insect’s nature, because of its inherent weakness, is in itself unable to nourish and complete the embryo, what it produces is incomplete. And if in addition to generating an incomplete embryo, its nature generated something lacking soul and sensation as well, the embryo would cease to exist. But if this were the case, it is quite likely that the insect-kind would be absent from the world.* So it must be for this reason that nature generates an animal that is able to be nourished from itself, and it feeds on itself until it reaches completion.** Having reached completion, it dies.*** For living and eating are granted to it so that it becomes complete, but once it has reached completion, there is no longer any point for it to eat, and so no point for it to live.**** At this moment it dies, and it is then like an egg surrounded all around by a shell.***** Later, when what is inside of this shell has been completely concocted by the climate as if by a bird and has changed into an animal, it emerges."

758b19 «Τούτου δ’ αἴτιον ὅτι ἡ φύσις ὡσανεὶ πρὸ ὥρας ᾠοτοκεῖ διὰ τὴν ἀτέλειαν τὴν αὐτῆς.»

Τὴν αἰτίαν διὰ τούτων λέγει, τίνος ἕνεκα πρῶτον μὲν σκώληξ γεννᾶται κινούμενος καὶ ὅλως ζῷον ὑπάρχων, εἶτα αὐξηθεὶς ᾠὸν γίνεται ἀναίσθητον καὶ ἀκίνητον, εἶθ’ οὕτω πάλιν ζῷον ἕτερον παρὰ τὸν σκώληκα. λέγει οὖν ὅτι ἡ τῶν ἐντόμων φύσις ἀδυνατοῦσα θρέψαι ἐν αὑτῇ καὶ τελειῶσαι τὸ κύημα διὰ τὴν οἰκείαν ἀσθένειαν, ἀτελὲς αὐτὸ γεννᾷ· ὥστ’ εἴπερ πρὸς τῷ ἀτελὲς αὐτὸ γεννᾶν καὶ ἄψυχον ἐγέννα καὶ ἀναίσθητον, ἐφθείρετο ἄν· εἰ δὲ τοῦτο, τάχιον ἂν ἐκ τοῦ παντὸς ἐξέλιπε τὸ τῶν ἐντόμων γένος. διά τοι τοῦτο γεννᾷ ζῷον ἐξ ἑαυτοῦ δυνάμενον τρέφεσθαι, καὶ τρέφεται ἕως ἂν τελειωθῇ, τελειωθὲν δὲ θνήσκει· τὸ γὰρ ζῆν καὶ ἐσθίειν δέδοται αὐτῷ διὰ τὸ τέλειον γεγονέναι, ἐπειδὴ δὲ τετελείωται, οὐκέτι χρεία αὐτῷ τοῦ ἐσθίειν, ὥστε οὐδὲ τοῦ ζῆν. καὶ ἐπὶ τούτῳ θνήσκει, καὶ ἔστι τότε οἷον ᾠὸν κύκλῳ περιεχόμενον ὑπὸ τοῦ κελύφους· εἶθ’ οὕτως τὸ ἐντὸς ὑπάρχον τούτου τοῦ κελύφους ὑπὸ τῆς ὥρας ὥσπερ ὑπὸ ὄρνιθος συμπεφθὲν καὶ εἰς ζῷον μεταβαλὸν ἔξεισιν.

Michael of Ephesus, Commentary on Aristotle's Generation of Animals 3.8, (CAG 14,3 p.153,10-25 Hayduck).

*A reductio: if nature generated embryos without soul, i.e., without life, there wouldn't be any insects in the world; but, there are insects; so, nature does not generate embryos without a soul.

**The idea is either (1) that the grub is able to feed itself, or (2) that it is able to be nourished from the whole of its own body, unlike an egg, in which one part is food (yolk) and one part becomes the animal (white). Cf. GA 2.1, 732a28-32 and Michael’s comments; 3.2, 752a27-28.

***Michael might be thinking of allegories of metempsychosis. I have yet to find whether the psuchê (butterfly) was used as a symbol of resurrection by late Byzantine Christians. Whether or not that's what he has in mind, the idea is not Aristotle’s—he nowhere says that grubs die when they become cocoons, nor does he say, as Michael takes him to, that cocoons are akinêton or without movement; rather, he says they are akinêtisanta or at rest. Elsewhere, Aristotle claims cocoons move when touched, e.g. HA 5.19, 551a19-20. Just how familiar Michael was with the HA is not clear; but Michael is nevertheless right that in the passage he is commenting on, Aristotle emphasizes the lack of motion of chrysalids throughout. And even if allegories of metempsychosis are in the background, Michael is most likely drawing the following inference: if something is alive, it has nutritive (and sensitive) soul; if something has nutritive (and sensitive) soul, then it can (move, sense), eat, and excrete residues; cocoons do none of these things; hence cocoons are not alive. The inference of course would be false: at most it would imply that cocoons are asleep. Michael, however, likely sees that there would be a deeper problem in saying cocoons are alive in this sense of 'sleeping': on the one hand, the soul of the grub and the soul of the completed animal cannot be identical, since the animals have different bodily organs, and souls and the organs they use are correlative; on the other hand, it seems implausible that the grub should have both souls simultaneously. But if it cannot have both souls simultaneously, and it must have a soul, then it must have the souls successively, and so must ‘die’ in some sense. Michael, then, thinks it is better to say that the soul the grub had has perished, while what it left behind is something alive potentially, but actually dead, namely an egg, which comes back to life when warmed by the season. Michael hints that this is what he has in mind by emphasizing that cocoons are like eggs, although he does not explicitly distinguish actual and potential kinds of living. It's telling that another commentator, Philoponus, denies caterpillars perish, and claims they merely change from one form to another (On Physics 8, CAG 16 180,19-20). This suggests people other than Michael were thinking through this problem.

****Michael’s interpretation likely relies on the familiar Arisotelian claim that nature does nothing in vain: it would be in vain for an animal whose purpose is to become an egg to continue to live.

*****A similar point is made by Plutarch, Quaest. Conv. 2.3 (Moralia 636C3-D7)

Eggs the right way, soft boiled and in cups. Detail from a 3rd century mosaic at the Hatay Archaeological Museum in Antakya, Turkey. 

"Eggs of hens and of pheasants are better, while those of geese and ostriches [literally, 'sparrow-camels'] are worse. Best for the body's nourishment are the ones called 'trembling' [i.e., soft-boiled], while runny ones nourish less, but are passed more easily. They soothe the roughness in the throat caused by shouting or an acrid humour, when they are plastered on the affected places and remain there like a poultice; they also cure roughness because their whole substance is not stinging. For the same reason, they heal roughness in the stomach, bowels and bladder. An egg boiled in vinegar, when eaten, dries the discharges in the bowels. And if you mix things suitable for dysentery or a colic disposition with it and then broil it on coals and give it to eat, you will offer no small benefit to your patients. Suitable for these dispositions are the juice of unripe grapes, unripe mulberry plastered on, ashes of snails burnt whole, and grape seeds, myrtle berries and similar things.  Boiled eggs are hard to digest, pass slowly and provide thick nourishment to the body. The ones baked in hot ashes pass even more slowly and produce even thicker humours than them. Fried eggs have the least nutrition in every respect. For when they are cooked they become greasy and produce a thick humor that is bad and full of residues. Better than boiled and baked ones are those called 'curdled': briefly soaked in oil, garum and wine, and boiled on a double-boiler to a medium consistency. Eggs thickened longer become like boiled or baked ones. The same thing should also be done in cases where eggs are poured on a frying pan, taking the frying pan off the fire when the eggs are still soft."

Ὠὰ ἀμείνω τά τε τῶν ἀλεκτορίδων ἐστὶ καὶ τῶν φασιανῶν, φαυλότερα δὲ τὰ τῶν χηνῶν καὶ στρουθοκαμήλων. κάλλιστα μὲν οὖν εἰς τροφὴν τοῦ σώματός ἐστι τὰ τρομητὰ καλούμενα, τὰ δὲ ῥοφητὰ ἧττον μὲν τρέφει, ῥᾷον δὲ ὑποχωρεῖ. τὰς δὲ ἐν τῷ φάρυγγι τραχύτητας διὰ κραυγὴν ἢ χυμοῦ δριμύτητα ἐκλεαίνει, περιπλαττόμενα τοῖς πεπονθόσι τόποις καὶ προσμένοντα ὥσπερ τι κατάπλασμα καὶ τῷ τῆς ὅλης οὐσίας ἀδήκτῳ ἐκθεραπεύοντα καὶ τὰς τραχύτητας. τῷ δὲ αὐτῷ λόγῳ καὶ τὰς κατὰ τὸν στόμαχον καὶ γαστέρα καὶ κύστιν ἰᾶται τραχύτητας· ἐν ὄξει δὲ ἑψηθὲν ὠὸν εἰ βρωθείη, ξηραίνει τὰ κατὰ γαστέρα ῥεύματα. καὶ εἰ μίξας δὲ αὐτῷ τι τῶν πρὸς δυσεντερίαν ἢ κοιλιακὴν διάθεσιν ἁρμοττόντων, εἶτα ἐπ' ἀνθράκων ταγηνίσας, δοίης φαγεῖν, οὐ σμικρὰ τοὺς κάμνοντας ὠφελήσεις. ἐπιτήδεια δέ ἐστιν εἰς ταῦτα ὀμφάκιον καὶ ῥοῦς ἐπιπαττόμενος καὶ τέφρα τῶν κοχλιῶν ὅλων καέντων γίγαρτά τε σταφυλῆς καὶ μύρτα καὶ τὰ παραπλήσια. τὰ δὲ ἑφθὰ ὠὰ δύσπεπτα καὶ βραδύπορα καὶ τροφὴν παχεῖαν ἀναδίδωσι τῷ σώματι. τούτων δὲ ἔτι μᾶλλον βραδυπορώτερά τε καὶ παχυχυμότερα τὰ κατὰ θερμὴν σποδιὰν ὀπτηθέντα. τὰ δὲ ταγηνισθέντα χειρίστην ἔχει τροφὴν εἰς ἅπαντα· καὶ γὰρ ἐν τῷ πέττεσθαι κνισσοῦται καὶ παχὺν χυμὸν γεννᾷ καὶ μοχθηρὸν καὶ περιττωματικόν. ἀμείνω δὲ τῶν ἑφθῶν τε καὶ ὀπτῶν ἐστι τὰ καλούμενα πηκτὰ μετ' ἐλαίου καὶ γάρου καὶ οἴνου βραχέος ἀναδευθέντα καὶ ἐπὶ διπλώματος ἑψηθέντα μέχρι μετρίας συστάσεως. τὰ γὰρ ἐπὶ πλέον παχυνθέντα παραπλήσια τοῖς ἑψηθεῖσι καὶ ὀπτηθεῖσι γίγνεται. τὸ αὐτὸ δὲ χρὴ ποιεῖν κἀπὶ τῶν ἐπιχεομένων ταῖς λοπάσιν ὠῶν, ἔτι ἐγχύλων ὄντων ἀπὸ τοῦ πυρὸς αἴροντας τὴν λοπάδα.

Aetius of Amida, Libri Medicinales, II 134, 201,19-202,14 Olivieri

How to live a long life: learn magic or get some exercise

Pseudo-Lucian talks about the prophecy and piety of the Magi (along with ethnographies of other tribes) as part of a discussion of life-expectancy: why do some groups of people live longer than others? Pseudo-Lucian thinks you could live a long time too if you just exercised and ate properly. Inspired by this article at the BBC: "We learn nothing about nutrition, claim medical students".

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"Stories have been told of whole races who have a long life expectancy because of their way of life.* There are those called the 'Sacred Scribes' in Egypt, the 'Interpreters of Myths' in Assyria and Arabia, those called 'Brahmans' in India, men completely devoted to the study of philosophy, and those called the 'Magi', a prophetic race who dedicate themselves to the gods, found among the Persians, Parthians, Bactrians, Chorasmians, Arians, Sacae, Medes, and many other Barbarians. They are strong and long-lived because they lead their life in strict observance of magic.

"There are also whole nations who have a long life expectancy, like in the stories they tell about the Seres, who live up to three-hundred years, some attributing the cause of their old age to the climate, others to the land, and still others to their way of life: for, they say, this is a whole nation of water-drinkers. Stories are also told of the people of Athos living up to one- hundred and thirty years, and there is a report that the Chaldeans live over one-hundred years, using bread made from barley because it acts as a drug for preserving good eyesight. They also say that on account of this diet, their other senses are better than those of other people.

"But that's enough about the life expectancy of these races and nations, those which they say survive for a long time either because of the land and climate, or way of life, or both. I, however, want to propose to you that your hopes [of a long life] are easy to achieve, by telling you about men in every land and in every climate who have become long-lived by using the right kind of exercises and a healthy diet."

καὶ γένη δὲ ὅλα μακρόβια ἱστορεῖται διὰ τὴν δίαιταν, ὥσπερ Αἰγυπτίων οἱ καλούμενοι ἱερογραμματεῖς, Ἀσσυρίων δὲ καὶ Ἀράβων οἱ ἐξηγηταὶ τῶν μύθων, Ἰνδῶν δὲ οἱ καλούμενοι Βραχμᾶνες, ἄνδρες ἀκριβῶς φιλοσοφίᾳ σχολάζοντες, καὶ οἱ καλούμενοι δὲ μάγοι, γένος τοῦτο μαντικὸν καὶ θεοῖς ἀνακείμενον παρά τε Πέρσαις καὶ Πάρθοις καὶ Βάκτροις καὶ Χωρασμίοις καὶ Ἀρείοις καὶ Σάκαις καὶ Μήδοις καὶ παρὰ πολλοῖς ἄλλοις βαρβάροις, ἐρρωμένοι τέ εἰσι καὶ πολυχρόνιοι διὰ τὸ μαγεύειν διαιτώμενοι καὶ αὐτοὶ ἀκριβέστερον.

ἤδη δὲ καὶ ἔθνη ὅλα μακροβιώτατα, ὥσπερ Σῆρας μὲν ἱστοροῦσι μέχρι τριακοσίων ζῆν ἐτῶν, οἱ μὲν τῷ ἀέρι, οἱ δὲ τῇ γῇ τὴν αἰτίαν τοῦ μακροῦ γήρως προστιθέντες, οἱ δὲ καὶ τῇ διαίτῃ· ὑδροποτεῖν γάρ φασι τὸ ἔθνος τοῦτο σύμπαν. καὶ Ἀθῴτας δὲ μέχρι τριάκοντα καὶ ἑκατὸν ἐτῶν βιοῦν ἱστορεῖται, καὶ τοὺς Χαλδαίους ὑπὲρ τὰ ἑκατὸν ἔτη βιοῦν λόγος, τούτους μὲν καὶ κριθίνῳ ἄρτῳ χρωμένους, ὡς ὀξυδορκίας τοῦτο φάρμακον· οἷς γέ φασι διὰ τὴν τοιαύτην δίαιταν καὶ τὰς ἄλλας αἰσθήσεις ὑπὲρ τοὺς ἄλλους ἀνθρώπους ἐρρωμένας εἶναι.

Ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μὲν περί τε τῶν μακροβίων γενῶν καὶ τῶν ἐθνῶν, ἅτινά φασιν ὡς ἐπὶ πλεῖστον διαγίγνεσθαι χρόνον, οἱ μὲν διὰ τὴν γῆν καὶ τὸν ἀέρα, οἱ δὲ διὰ τὴν δίαιταν, οἱ δὲ καὶ δι' ἄμφω. ἐγὼ δ' ἄν σοι δικαίως τὴν ἐλπίδα ῥᾳδίαν παράσχοιμι ἱστορήσας ὅτι καὶ κατὰ πᾶσαν γῆν καὶ κατὰ πάντα ἀέρα μακρόβιοι γεγόνασιν ἄνδρες οἱ γυμνασίοις τοῖς προσήκουσιν καὶ διαίτῃ τῇ ἐπιτηδειοτάτῃ πρὸς ὑγίειαν χρώμενοι.

Pseudo-Lucian, Long Lives (Marcobii), 4-8

* διὰ τὴν δίαιταν I'm translating as "way of life" or "diet" depending on the context. Keep in mind that it includes more that just what one eats, but also hygiene more generally: one's daily routine of sleep, waking, food, drink, work and sex.

Galen's advice on how to never get sick ("read my books and pay attention")

"After I turned 28, I had convinced myself that there exists an art of hygiene and I followed its precepts the whole rest of my life. The result was that I never got sick except for the occasional ephemeral fever; but, surely it is possible for someone to preserve themselves completely if they have secured a life of freedom.* This already became clear in the previous sections, and it will become even clearer in the sections that follow should you choose to pay attention. For I say no buboes** can be produced in anyone who has rigorously prepared for health, simply if their body is free from of each kind of excess residue, both in quantity and quality."

ἀλλὰ μετά γε τὸ εἰκοστὸν ὄγδοον ἔτος ἀπὸ γενετῆς ἐμαυτὸν πείσας, ὡς ἔστι τις ὑγιεινὴ τέχνη, τοῖς προστάγμασιν αὐτῆς ἠκολούθησα παρ' ὅλον τὸν ἑξῆς βίον, ὡς μηκέτι νοσῆσαι νόσημα μηδέν, ὅτι μὴ σπάνιόν που πυρετὸν ἐφήμερον. ἔστι δὲ δήπου καὶ τοῦτον αὐτὸν φυλάξασθαι τελέως, ἐλεύθερον ἑλόμενον βίον, ὡς ἔν τε τοῖς ἔμπροσθεν ἤδη γέγονε δῆλον ἔτι τε μᾶλλον ἔσται σαφὲς ἐν τοῖς ἐφεξῆς εἰρησομένοις, εἰ θέλοι τις προσέχειν τὸν νοῦν. ἐγὼ γάρ φημι μηδὲ βουβῶνα δύνασθαι γενέσθαι τοῖς ἀκριβῶς παρεσκευασμένοις εἰς ὑγείαν, εἴ γ' ἀπέριττον αὐτοῖς ἐστι τὸ σῶμα τοῦ γένους τῶν περιττωμάτων ἑκατέρου, τοῦ τε κατὰ τὸ ποσὸν καὶ τοῦ κατὰ τὸ ποιόν.

Galen, De sanitate tuenda, 5.1, 6.309-10 Kühn

*Galen is referring to something he said a bit earlier: that he gets an occasional fever because sometimes he works too much. In other words, he is not free, since he is dedicated to his practice. If you are free, all the more reason you should remain healthy if you follow his advice.

**not quite sure why Galen is singling out buboes here.

Julius Caesar's Prescription

“They say that Caesar had an epileptic fit brought on by an unending winter, but that he was later treated by drinking the juice of the Heraclean plant with the rennet from a seal. It’s not surprising if Caesar was able to get his hands on seal rennet. Aretas, however, the phylarch of Arab Scenitae, wrote a letter to Claudius Caesar about a treatment using birds. He says the liver of a vulture roasted along with the blood and taken with honey three times a week gives relief from epilepsy. Likewise, the heart of the vulture, when dried, taken with water in the same manner, is equally effective.”

Ὅτι τὸν Καίσαρά φασιν ἐξ ἀπείρου χειμῶνος ἐπιληψίᾳ περιπεσεῖν· θεραπευθῆναι δὲ ὕστερον ἡρακλείου βοτάνης χυλὸν σὺν πυτίᾳ φώκης ἑλκύσαντα. καὶ Καῖσαρ μὲν οὔπω θαυμαστὸν εἰ καὶ φώκης πυτίας ηὐπόρησεν· Ἀρέτας δὲ ὁ τῶν Σκηνιτῶν Ἀράβων φύλαρχος Κλαυδίῳ Καίσαρι γράφων ἐπιστολὴν περὶ τῆς δι' ὀρνέων θεραπείας φησίν, ἧπαρ γυπὸς σὺν τῷ αἵματι ὀπτὸν μετὰ μέλιτος διδόμενον ἐπὶ ἑβδομάδας τρεῖς ἀπαλλάττειν ἐπιληψίας, ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ τὴν καρδίαν τοῦ γυπός, ὅτε ξηρανθῇ, ἐν ὕδατι διδομένην τῷ ἴσῳ τρόπῳ ἰσχύειν.

Lydus, On the months of the year, 4. 104

“Most historians say that Caesar was a seven-month child, and that’s why he changed the name of the seventh month of the sacred year to his own.”

Ὅτι οἱ πολλοὶ τῶν ἱστορικῶν φασι τὸν Καίσαρα ἑπτάμηνον τεχθῆναι, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο τὸν ἕβδομον μῆνα τοῦ ἱερατικοῦ ἐνιαυτοῦ εἰς τὴν οἰκείαν μεταβαλεῖν προσηγορίαν.

Lydus, On the months of the year, 4. 105

“An oracle was delivered to the Romans by the Mother, that they are not to engage in sexual activity at all during July, if their bodies are to stay healthy.”

Χρησμὸς ἐδόθη Ῥωμαίοις πρὸς τῆς Μητρός, μηδ' ὅλως ἀφροδισίοις χρῆσθαι ἀνὰ πάντα τὸν Ἰούλιον μῆνα, εἴπερ αὐτοῖς ὑγιαίνειν τὰ σώματα μέλλοι.

Lydus, On the months of the year, 4. 106

“When some people were suspicious of Marc Antony and Dolabella and urged Caesar to keep an eye on them, he said he wasn't worried about plodding and portly people, but thin and pale ones, indicating Brutus and Cassius.”

Ἀντώνιον δὲ καὶ Δολοβέλλαν ὑφορωμένων ἐνίων καὶ φυλάττεσθαι κελευόντων, οὐ τούτους ἔφη δεδιέναι τοὺς βαναύσους καὶ λιπῶντας, ἀλλὰ τοὺς ἰσχνοὺς καὶ ὠχροὺς ἐκείνους, δείξας Βροῦτον καὶ Κάσσιον.

[Plutarch], Sayings of Gaius Caesar, 14 (Moralia 206F)

"When the conversation at dinner turned to the best kind of death, Caesar said: 'unexpected.'"

Λόγου δὲ παρὰ δεῖπνον ἐμπεσόντος περὶ θανάτου ποῖος ἄριστος ‘ὁ ἀπροσδόκητος’ εἶπε.

[Plutarch], Sayings of Gaius Caesar, 15 (Moralia 206F)

Pedlars and Peddlers, Hucksters and Trash-talkers

(Ed 22 March 2019: I’ve since found an excellent book on shopping in Ancient Rome by Claire Holleran. Here’s the Google books view of the relevant chapter.)

I’ve been trying to sort out a term from Galen’s pharmacology: a group of people called ‘rhôpopôlai‘ who seem to deal with plants professionally. Not ‘professionally’ like doctor- or florist-professionally, but still in a way that everyone recognizes:

"Once I have added this further point, I will end the discussion of abrotanum. The incredible Pamphilus, although he describes this herb first and even tries to give a description of it from his own experience (so what if he doesn’t do this for any of the herbs that follow), nevertheless makes a terrible error: he thought that this plant is the one the Romans call, 'santonicum'. The fact is, abrotanum differs from santonicum, as Dioscorides very accurately described in book three of De materia medica. Everyone knows this, doctors and rhôpopôlai alike.

τοσόνδε μέντοι προσθεὶς ἔτι περὶ ἀβροτόνου καταπαύσω τὸν λόγον, ὡς ὁ θαυμασιώτατος Πάμφιλος, καίτοι ταύτην πρώτην πόαν γράφων καὶ τάχ' ἂν εἰ μηδενὸς τῶν ἐφεξῆς, ἀλλὰ ταύτης γοῦν ἐθελήσας αὐτόπτης γενέσθαι, ὅμως ἔσφαλται μέγιστα, νομίζων ὑπὸ Ῥωμαίων σαντόνικον ὀνομάζεσθαι τὴν βοτάνην.  διαφέρει γὰρ ἀβρότονον σαντονίκου, καθότι καὶ Διοσκουρίδης ἔγραψεν ἐν τῷ τρίτῳ περὶ ὕλης ἀκριβέστατα, καὶ πάντες ἴσασι τοῦτό γε ἰατροὶ καὶ ῥωποπῶλαι.

Galen, Simple Drugs, 6.pr. (11.804 K.)

Galen thinks doctors are expected to know the difference between one kind of artemisia and another (artemisia santonicum and artemisia abrotanum). His expectations for the rhôpopôlai, however, are more relaxed, and he doesn't think he's being controversial in saying this (he mentions this profession five times, he's not too big on them). At the same time he also seems confident that he and his audience are familiar with who these people are. The character of the rhôpopôlês is so well known, so utterly unremarkable, that it can slip in as the punchline of Galen’s trash-talk.

Of course, they aren’t unremarkable anymore. I have no idea what a 'rhôpopôlês' is, what he knows or doesn’t know, where one finds him in town, what he does. The rhôpopôlês is an alien to me. Even after putting together a bunch of texts that talk about him, I’m still not sure I really get the joke. 

A 'rhôpopôlês' is probably something like a huckster, hawker, costermonger, street-vendor. (to be honest, I don't know what these guys are either. I have an irrational fear of markets and my imagination is limited to the pedlars on summer sundays at Parc Mont Royal). Literally, it is someone who sells or deals in ῥῶπος. What this means is not totally clear: sometimes, it means a trinket, or small non-perishable good, i.e., something you don’t need a fixed shop to sell; other times it means something much more specific, namely pigments, oils, dyes, perfumes and drugs.

The specification we see in later sources led to some debate about whether this term (and terms like it) implies there was a profession of druggists or pharmacists in Roman antiquity. It probably doesn't; there were ‘root-cutters’, but that’s another story.

“'Rhôpopôlês': a person who sells 'rhôpos’, that is any dry, miscellaneous goods.”

ῥωποπώλης: ὁ τὸν ῥῶπον πωλῶν, ὅ ἐστι ξηρὸς φόρτος καὶ ποικίλος.

Phrynichus, Sophistic Preparations (epitome) Page 107, line 1

“Rhôpos and gelgê: Miscellaneous and small goods. Thus, 'rhôpopôlês' (‘rôpos-seller) and 'gelgopôlê' (gelge-seller).”

ῥῶπος καὶ γέλγη· ὁ ποικίλος καὶ λεπτὸς φόρτος, ὅθεν ῥωποπώλης καὶ γελγοπώλη

Aelius Dionysius, Attic Names, s.v. ῥῶπος (entry 14)

“The Attics say ‘gelgê ' and ' gelgê-seller'; Greeks say 'rhôpos ' and 'rhôpos-seller'.”

γέλγη καὶ γελγοπώλης Ἀττικοί, ῥῶπος καὶ ῥωποπώλης Ἕλληνες.

Moeris, Attic Lexicon, 194,4

“It is said that the first Phoenicians to sail to Tartessos, having brought oil and other nautical rhôpos, came back loaded with so much silver that there was nowhere to keep or put it, but when sailing away from the place they were forced to make everything else which they used out of silver, and even all the anchors, as well.”

Τοὺς πρώτους τῶν Φοινίκων ἐπὶ Ταρτησσὸν πλεύσαντας λέγεται τοσοῦτον ἀργύριον ἀντιφορτίσασθαι, ἔλαιον καὶ ἄλλον ναυτικὸν ῥῶπον εἰσαγαγόντας, ὥστε μηκέτι ἔχειν δύνασθαι μήτε ἐπιδέξασθαι τὸν ἄργυρον, ἀλλ' ἀναγκασθῆναι ἀποπλέοντας ἐκ τῶν τόπων τά τε ἄλλα πάντα ἀργυρᾶ οἷς ἐχρῶντο κατασκευάσασθαι, καὶ δὴ καὶ τὰς ἀγκύρας πάσας.

Pseudo-Aristotle, On Marvellous Things Heard, 844a17-23

“Nature is everywhere precise, artistic, lacking nothing and without excess – ‘having’, as Erasistratus says, ‘nothing rhôpikon.’” (=trashy? tracky? worthless?? superfluous?)

πανταχοῦ μὲν γὰρ ἡ φύσις ἀκριβὴς καὶ φιλότεχνος καὶ ἀνελλιπὴς καὶ ἀπέριττος, ‘οὐδέν’ ὡς ἔφησεν Ἐρασίστρατος ‘ἔχουσα ῥωπικόν’

Plutarch, Moralia 495C7-9 = Erasistratus Fr. 83

[[then there’s a semantic shift, at some point in the dark ages.]]

“'Rhôpos': compounds, pigments, all those things used by dyers, painters and perfumers. Whence, 'rhôpopôlês', 'perfume dealer' (?). Some people have also called miscellaneous goods, 'rhôpos'.”

Ῥῶπος: μίγμα· χρώματα, ὅσα βαφεῦσι, ζωγράφοις, μυρεψοῖς χρησιμεύει· ὅθεν ῥωποπώλης, ὁ μυροπώλης· τινὲς δὲ καὶ τὸν παντοδαπὸν φόρτον, ῥῶπον εἰρήκασιν.

Photius, Lexicon, s.v. Ῥῶπος (p.494)

“Rhôpos: compounds of colour, those which are used by dyers, painters and perfumers. Whence 'rhôpopôlês'. Some people have also called miscellaneous goods 'rhôpos'.”

Ῥῶπος: μίγμα χρώματος, ὅσα βαφεῦσι, ζωγράφοις, μυρεψοῖς χρησιμεύει. ὅθεν ῥωποπώλης. τινὲς δὲ καὶ τὸν παντοδαπὸν φόρτον ῥῶπον εἰρήκασι.

Suda, s.v. Ῥῶπος

“A rhôpos is a small, cheap, miscellaneous good, as Aelius Dionysius says, while gelgê, he says, is what the ancients called it. Whence, just as there are rhôpos-sellers, so too there are gelgê- sellers. The word, 'rhôpos', occurs in Demosthenes and others, and in Strabo. From this also comes rhopoperperethra, when someone calls out to someone they are mocking with vulgarity and silliness ('trash-talk'?), the inflection of which follows daktylethra ('finger sheath') and similar words. It also occurs in the verb, 'rhôpizein', which refers to making compounds and mixtures.

Ῥῶπος μέντοι λεππὸς καὶ εὐτελὴς φόρτος, ὡς δὲ Αἴλιος Διονύσιος λέγει, καὶ ποικίλος, γέλγην δέ, φησίν, αὐτὸν ἔλεγον οἱ παλαιοί. ὅθεν καθὰ ὁ ῥωποπώλης, οὕτω καὶ ὁ γελγοπώλης. ἡ δὲ λέξις τοῦ ῥώπου παρά τε Δημοσθένει καὶ ἑτέροις, κεῖται δὲ καὶ παρὰ τῷ Στράβωνι. ἐκ τούτου δὲ καὶ ῥωποπερπερήθρα τις προσερρήθη ἐπὶ χυδαιότητι καὶ φλυαρίᾳ σκωπτόμενος, οὗ ἡ παραγωγὴ κατὰ τὸ δακτυλήθρα καὶ τὰ ὅμοια. φέρεται δὲ καὶ ῥῆμα τὸ ῥωπίζειν, ὃ δηλοῖ τὸ σύμμικτα καὶ συμπεφυρμένα ποιεῖν.

Eustathius, Commentarii ad Homeri Iliadem, 3.459-360

Plum, crimson, vermilion, scarlet

Theophrastus, History of Plants, 3.6.4

"Some people deny that wild kinds of trees have deep roots because of the fact that they all grow from seed. Their claim is not quite correct, since it is possible for the trees to send down deep roots once they've become established. Even most vegetables do this, although they are weaker and clearly germinate in the ground. The kermes oak seems to be the most deep-rooted of the wild trees, while fir and pine are moderately so, and shallowest are the joint fir, the plum tree, and the bullace (this one is like a wild plum)."

Βαθύρριζα δὲ οὔ φασί τινες εἶναι τὰ ἄγρια διὰ τὸ φύεσθαι πάντα ἀπὸ σπέρματος, οὐκ ἄγαν ὀρθῶς λέγοντες. ἐνδέχεται γὰρ ὅταν ἐμβιώσῃ πόρρω καθιέναι τὰς ῥίζας· ἐπεὶ καὶ τῶν λαχάνων τὰ πολλὰ τοῦτο ποιεῖ, καίπερ ἀσθενέστερα ὄντα καὶ ἐναργῶς φυόμενα <ἐν> τῇ γῇ. Βαθυρριζότατον δ' οὖν δοκεῖ τῶν ἀγρίων εἶναι ἡ πρῖνος· ἐλάτη δὲ καὶ πεύκη μετρίως, ἐπιπολαιότατον δὲ θραύπαλος καὶ κοκκυμηλέα καὶ σποδιάς· αὕτη δ' ἐστὶν ὥσπερ ἀγρία κοκκυμηλέα.*

*κοκκυμηλέα plum tree. κοκκύμηλον plum.  The word κόκκος originally meant grain or seed, but came to pick out the colour we call “scarlet”, “crimson” or “kermes” — all these words are closely related historically. Here’s the story. There is species of scale insect that lives only on the sap of a tree called the kermes or scarlet oak, the deep-rooted πρῖνος Theophrastus mentions above. As these insects feed, they gather in clumps on the oaks and look like red grains or seeds.  In antiquity, these apparent grains were confused with galls (cf. Dioscorides 4.48, Pliny 22.3), another common source of dyes (like oak gall, the major ingredient in medieval inks). The grains (i.e., the insects) were collected, ground up and treated with various solvents (vinegar according to Dioscorides) in order to extract the red dye from their shells. This preparation was used for all sorts of textiles, but it is most notable for dyeing what we call “scarlet”, a name that originally applied to a specific kind of woolen cloth. At some point, the name used for the grain that was used in the dye (κόκκος) came to be used for the colour of the dye itself, hence κόκκος: “a brilliant red hue”. Some of the most common names that we use for vibrant red hues are connected to this dye. The colour vermilion is named for the “little worms” (vermeillons), i.e., the insects, that live on the kermes oak. Scarlet, the colour, gets its name from scarlet, the cloth dyed with the insects. And crimson comes from kermes, a medieval spelling of the Arabic word qirmiz (قِرْمِز ), whose roots reach back to Persian and Sanskrit, krmi-ja, which means “produced by a worm.” The fruit of the plum tree, with its brilliant red skin, might be etymologized as “the scarlet apple”; but, then again, I usually think of plums as purple. I've also seen the name derived from cuckoo (κόκκυξ +  μήλον), cf. Nicander ap. Athenaeus of Naucratis, Deipnosophistae 2.33: “μῆλον ὃ κόκκυγος καλέουσι (a melon which they name after cuckoos)”— maybe because the fruit, like the cuckoo, is related to springtime? Medical note: The kermes dye used to be part of a very popular pre-twentieth century cardiac remedy, or cordial (maybe because of its bright red colour?): the confectio alchermes.

Dioscorides, De materia medica 1.121

"The plum is a well-known tree, whose fruit is edible, bad for the stomach, and able to relax the belly. When the fruit of Syrian plums is dried, especially those grown in Damascus, it is good for the stomach and compacts the belly. A decoction of the leaves prepared in wine and then gargled restrains secretions from the uvula, gums and tonsils. When dried, the ripened fruit of the wild plum brings about the same thing, and when boiled with must, it becomes better for the stomach and able to restrain the belly more. The gum from the plum tree is glutinous, able to break apart kidney stones when drunk with wine, and used as an ointment with vinegar it heals lichen that appears on children."

κοκκυμηλέα δένδρον ἐστὶ γνώριμον, οὗ ὁ καρπὸς ἐδώδιμος, κακοστόμαχος, κοιλίας μαλακτικός· τῶν δὲ Συριακῶν καὶ μάλιστα τῶν ἐν Δαμασκῷ γεννωμένων ὁ καρπὸς ξηρανθεὶς εὐστόμαχος καὶ κοιλίας σταλτικός. τὸ δὲ ἀφέψημα τῶν φύλλων ἐν οἴνῳ σκευαζόμενον καὶ ἀναγαργαριζόμενον κιονίδα καὶ οὖλα καὶ παρίσθμια ῥευματιζόμενα στέλλει. τὰ δὲ αὐτὰ παρέχει καὶ ὁ τῶν ἀγρίων κοκκυμηλέων καρπὸς πέπειρος ξηρανθείς, ἑψηθεὶς δὲ μετὰ ἑψήματος εὐστομαχώτερος καὶ σταλτικώτερος κοιλίας γίνεται. τὸ δὲ κόμμι τῆς κοκκυμηλέας ἐστὶ κολλητικόν, λίθων θρυπτικὸν πινόμενον σὺν οἴνῳ, σὺν ὄξει δὲ ἐπιχριόμενον λειχῆνας τοὺς ἐπὶ παιδίων θεραπεύει.

p. 111,14-112,6 Wellmann

Pliny the Elder, Natural History, 23.66-69

"The boiled leaves of the plum are good for the tonsils, gums and uvula, washing the mouth with it now and then. The plum itself relaxes the belly, and is not very good for the stomach, but it only lasts a short time. Peaches and their juice are better, also when squeezed into wine or vinegar. No other food is less harmful than this fruit. In nothing is there less of an odour and more juice (which nevertheless stimulates thirst). Its leaves stop haemorrhage when ground and applied. Peach pits with olive oil and vinegar are applied for headache. As for wild plums, however, the fruit or skin of the root, if decocted in dry wine to a third of a hemina, restrains the belly and intestinal pain. One cyathos of the decoction at a time is enough. And growing upon this tree and the cultivated plum tree, there is a tree resin*, which the Greeks call lichen, wonderfully useful for fistulae and hemorrhoids."

*This is wonderful. Pliny or his source has misread Dioscorides, thinking the gum of the plum itself is called lichen, rather than the disease which affects children.

/66 Pruni folia in vino decocta tonsillis, gingivis, uvae prosunt, subinde colluto ore. ipsa pruna alvum molliunt, stomacho non utilissima, sed brevi momento. /67 Utiliora persica sucusque eorum, etiam in vino aut in aceto expressus. neque alius eis pomis innocentior cibis; nusquam minus odoris, suci plus, qui tamen sitim stimulet . . . . . folia eius trita inlita haemorrhagian sistunt. nuclei persicorum cum oleo et aceto capitis doloribus inlinuntur. /68 Silvestrium quidem prunorum bacae, vel e radice cortex, in vino austero si decoquantur ita, ut triens ex hemina supersit, alvum sistunt et tormina. satis est singulos cyathos decocti sumi.  /69 Et in his et sativis prunis est limus arborum, quem Graeci lichena appellant, rhagadis et condylomatis mire utilis.

Galen, On Simple Drugs, 7.35, XII 32-3 Kühn

"The fruit of the plum tree has a laxative effect, and more so when it is fresh, less when dry. For some reason, Dioscorides says dried plums from Damascus support the belly. Clearly, they are laxative, but less than those from Iberia. The ones from Damascus are more astringent, while those from Iberia are sweeter, and the trees as well are like the fruits. Those in Iberia are less astringent, those in Damascus more. To speak generally about them, there is some clear astringency present in the leaves and buds, when these are boiled down in water, they make a mouthwash for inflammation of the uvula and tonsils. The fruit of wild plum trees is obviously astringent and compacts the belly. This plant is called proumnon in Asia. Some say the gum of the tree is able to break up kidney stones when drunk with wine, but with vinegar cures children's lichen. If it does this, then it is clear that it has a capacity to be dissolving an diffusive."

Κοκκυμηλέας ὁ καρπὸς ὑπάγει γαστέρα, καὶ πρόσφατος μὲν ὑπάρχων μᾶλλον, ξηρανθεὶς δ' ἧττον. Διοσκουρίδης δ' οὐκ οἶδ' ὅπως τὰ Δαμασκηνὰ κοκκύμηλα ξηρανθέντα φησὶν ὑπέχειν γαστέρα. ὑπάγει μὲν γὰρ καὶ ταῦτα σαφῶς, ἀλλ' ἧττον τῶν ἐκ τῆς Ἰβηρίας. ἔστι δὲ τὰ μὲν Δαμασκηνὰ στυπτικώτερα, τὰ δ' ἐκ τῆς Ἰβηρίας γλυκύτερα, καὶ δὴ καὶ τὰ δένδρα τοῖς καρποῖς ἀνάλογον. ἧττον μὲν στυπτικὰ τὰ κατὰ τὴν Ἰβηρίαν, μᾶλλον δὲ τὰ κατὰ τὴν Δαμασκόν. ἁπλῶς δ' εἰπεῖν ὧν ἐν τοῖς φύλλοις ἢ τοῖς βλαστοῖς ἐμφαίνεταί τις στύψις σαφὴς, ταῦτα ἀφεψόμενα διάκλυσμα γίγνεται τῶν περὶ γαργαρεῶνα καὶ παρίσθμια φλεγμονῶν. ὁ δὲ τῶν ἀγρίων καρπὸς στυπτικὸς ἐναργῶς ἐστι καὶ σταλτικὸς γαστρός. ὀνομάζεται δὲ τὸ φυτὸν τοῦτο κατὰ τὴν Ἀσίαν προῦμνον. τὸ δὲ κόμμι τοῦ δένδρου φασὶν ἔνιοι μετ' οἴνου πινόμενον λίθων εἶναι θρυπτικὸν, σὺν ὄξει δὲ λειχῆνας ἰᾶσθαι παίδων, καὶ εἴπερ αὐτὸ ποιεῖ, δῆλον ὡς τμητικῆς τε καὶ λεπτομεροῦς μετέχει δυνάμεως.

Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae, 2.33

"Clearchus the Peripatetic and Theocritus from Syracuse say that people from Rhodes and Sicily call the plum, 'brabyla.' "

Κλέαρχος δ' ὁ περιπατητικός φησι  Ῥοδίους καὶ Σικελιώτας βράβυλα καλεῖν τὰ κοκκύμηλα, ὡς καὶ Θεόκριτος ὁ Συρακούσιος.

Aetius of Amida, Medical Books I 209

"The fruit of the plum tree. It has more of a laxative effect when fresh, less when dry. Plums from Damascus are more astringent. Those from Iberia are sweeter, and for this reason, more laxative.  There is some clear astringency present in the leaves, which is why when they are boiled in water they make a mouthwash for inflammations of the uvula and tonsils."

Κοκκυμηλέας ὁ καρπός. Ὑπάγει τὴν γαστέρα πρόσφατος μὲν ὑπάρχων μᾶλλον, ξηρανθεὶς δὲ ἧττον· ἐστὶ δὲ τὰ μὲν δαμασκηνὰ κοκκύμηλα στυπτικώτερα. τὰ δὲ ἐκ τῆς Ἰβηρίας γλυκύτερα, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο ὑπακτικώτερα, ἐν δὲ τοῖς φύλλοις ἐμφαίνεταί τις στύψις σαφής, ὅθεν ἑψόμενα διάκλυσμα γίνεται τῶν περὶ γαργαρεῶνα καὶ παρίσθμια φλεγμονῶν.

p. 91,3-8 Olivieri

Paul of Aegina, Epitome of Medicine, 7.3.10

"The fruit of the plum tree opens the belly more when fresh, less when dried. A decoction of it cures inflammation of the uvula when used as a mouthwash. The gum of the tree has a dissolving and diffusive power, which some say is able to break-up kidney stones when drunk with wine, while with vinegar cures children's lichen. The fruit of wild plums are clearly astringent and able to compact the belly. The plant is called 'proumnon' in Asia. Dioscorides seems to say that the domesticated plum, when dried, is what is now called the Damascene."

Κοκκυμηλέας ὁ καρπὸς ὑπάγει γαστέρα πρόσφατος μὲν μᾶλλον, ξηρανθεὶς δὲ ἧττον. τὸ δὲ ἀφέψημα αὐτοῦ τὰς κατὰ γαργαρεῶνα φλεγμονὰς ἰᾶται διακλυζόμενον. τὸ δὲ κόμμι τοῦ δένδρου τμητικῆς τε καὶ λεπτομεροῦς δυνάμεως, ὅ φασιν ἔνιοι μετ' οἴνου πινόμενον λίθων εἶναι θρυπτικόν, σὺν ὄξει δὲ λειχῆνας ἰᾶσθαι παίδων. ὁ δὲ τῶν ἀγρίων κοκκυμήλων καρπὸς στυπτικὸς ἐναργῶς ἐστι καὶ σταλτικὸς γαστρός· ὀνομάζεται δὲ τὸ φυτὸν τοῦτο κατὰ τὴν Ἀσίαν προῦμνον. ἔοικε δὲ τὰ ἥμερα ξηρανθέντα κοκκύμηλα τὰ νῦν Δαμασκηνὰ προσαγορευόμενα λέγειν ὁ Διοσκουρίδης.

p. 227,5-13 Heiberg

Alexis ap. Athenaeus of Naucratis, Deipnosophistae, 2.33

A: I think I had a dream that showed me I would win!

B: Tell it to me.

A: Pay close attention, now. I was in the rivals' stadium, when someone appeared to place a garland on me, someone who came at me naked … with a braided wreath of plums.

B: By Heracles!

A: καὶ μὴν ἐνύπνιον οἴομαί γ' ἑορακέναι νικητικόν.

B: λέγ' αὐτό.

A: τὸν νοῦν πρόσεχε δή. ἐν τῷ σταδίῳ τῶν ἀνταγωνιστῶν μέ τις ἐδόκει στεφανοῦν γυμνὸς προσελθὼν … στεφάνῳ κυλιστῷ κοκκυμήλων.

B:  Ἡράκλεις.

Soda and onions

Continuing with Aetius of Amida's pharmacy and its parallels: onions.

Philumenus on onions as a cure for bites of all kinds.

"For dog bites or people bites, apply a poultice of fine salt mixed with honey until the bite is filled. Some also add onion and vinegar and then use it."

πρὸς οὖν κυνόδηκτα καὶ ἀνθρωπόδηκτα ἅλας λεῖον σὺν μέλιτι κατάπλασσε, ἄχρις οὗ πλήρη ᾖ. τινὲς δὲ καὶ κρόμμυον προσμίσγουσιν καὶ ὄξους καὶ οὕτως χρῶνται.

Philumenus, On poisonous animals and their remedies [De venenatis animalibus eorumque remediis], 5.6 (10,7-9 Wellman)

Galen on onions.

"The onion belongs to the fourth degree of things that heat. Its substance is composed of rather large particles, which is why it also opens up hemorrhoids when it is applied; when used full strength with vinegar in the sun, it washes away skin lesions; and when rubbed on bald spots, it stimulates the hair faster than alcuonium. If one separates off its juice, whatever remains is a considerably earthy, hot substance, but the juice itself is a watery and airy hot substance. Thus, when it is used as a salve against thick humours, it benefits cataract sufferers and those who are short-sighted. Due to its mixture, the onion generally causes flatulence when eaten, and for this reason, those which are drier in their mixture cause less flatulence."

Κρόμμυον ἐκ τῆς τετάρτης ἐστὶ τάξεως τῶν θερμαινόντων. ἡ δ' οὐσία παχυμερής ἐστιν αὐτοῦ μᾶλλον, ὅθεν καὶ τὰς αἱμοῤῥοΐδας ἀναστομοῖ προστιθέμενον καὶ σὺν ὄξει καταχριόμενον ἐν ἡλίῳ τοὺς ἀλφοὺς ἀποῤῥύπτει καὶ παρατριβόμενον ἀλωπεκίαις θᾶττον ἀλκυονίου παρορμᾷ τὰς τρίχας. εἰ δ' ἀποχωρίσειεν αὐτοῦ τις τὸν χυλὸν, ὅσον μὲν ὑπόλοιπον ἱκανῶς ἐστι γεώδους οὐσίας θερμῆς, αὐτὸς δ' ὁ χυλὸς ὑδατώδους τε καὶ ἀερώδους θερμότητος. οὕτω οὖν καὶ τοὺς ὑποχεομένους καὶ ἀμβλυώττοντας ἐπὶ πάχει χυμῶν ὀνίνησιν ὑπαλειφόμενος. ἐκ δὲ τῆς τούτου κράσεως ὅλον τὸ κρόμμυον φυσῶδές ἐστιν ἐσθιόμενον, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο ὅσα ξηρότερα τὴν κρᾶσιν ἀφυσότερα.

Galen, On the mixtures and capacities of simple drugs, 7.58 (XII 48-49 Kühn)

Oribasius' concise summary.

"Onion belongs to the fourth rank of things that heat. Its substance is composed of thick particles."

Κρόμμυον ἐκ τῆς τετάρτης ἐστὶ τάξεως τῶν θερμαινόντων· ἡ δὲ οὐσία παχυμερής ἐστιν.

Oribasius, Collectiones medicae, 15.1.10.79 (260,26-28 Raeder)

Aetius' entry based on Galen.

"Onion belongs to the fourth degree of things that heat. Its substance is composed of very large particles, whence it also opens up hemorrhoids when it is applied; when used full strength with vinegar in the sun, it washes away skin lesions; and when rubbed on bald spots, it stimulates the hair faster than alcuonium. When eaten, it heats the body with its acridity and thins thick and sticky humours in it. It fills the abdomen with air because its substance is composed of very thick particles."

Κρόμυον ἐκ τῆς τετάρτης ἐστὶ τάξεως τῶν θερμαινόντων· ἡ δὲ οὐσία αὐτοῦ παχυμερὴς μᾶλλον, ὅθεν καὶ τὰς αἱμορροίδας ἀναστομοῖ προστιθέμενον καὶ σὺν ὄξει καταχριόμενον ἐν ἡλίῳ τοὺς ἀλφοὺς ἀπορρύπτει καὶ παρατριβόμενον ἀλωπεκίαις θᾶττον ἀλκυονίου παρορμᾷ τὰς τρίχας. ἐσθιόμενον δὲ θερμαίνει μὲν τὸ σῶμα τῇ δριμύτητι καὶ λεπτύνει τοὺς ἐν αὐτῷ παχεῖς καὶ γλίσχρους χυμούς· ἐμπνευματοῖ δὲ τὴν γαστέρα διὰ τὸ παχυμερὲς τῆς οὐσίας.

Aetius of Amida, Libri medicinales, I 232 (97,14-20 Olivieri)

Cf. Dioscorides, De materia medica, 2.151 (p.155 in Beck), which mentions many of the other uses of onions as well, adding to what is said above that it's useful for blisters on the feet (when it is mixed with chicken fat, hardness of hearing, sore throats, and stuffy noses, but that it causes headaches. He leaves out the part about people bites. Oddly, none of these passages mention the fact that onions make your cry, a fact that Aristotle's school was rather interested in:

(pseudo-)Aristotle on why onions cause tears, while garlic does not.

"Why is it that only onions cause the eyes to sting so excessively? People even say it got its name because of this, since [κρόμμυον] makes the pupil close [τὴν κόρην συμμύειν]. Marjoram doesn't, nor do other things which are acrid. Thus, watercress [lit. "up the nose"], because it is hotter, causes more drying than the colliquescence that it produces, since it produces tears in those who eat it; it does not, however, [produce tears] when it is brought close by, because it does not give off any thin vapour, for it is too dry and hot. Marjoram and similar hot things are dry and mild, but what is going to produce tears needs to be stinging, moist and sticky. For this reason, olive oil produces tears, although its stinging is weak. For because of its stickiness and fineness, it produces pain when it penetrates [the flesh], and produces liquefaction because of the pain. The onion has a similar capacity, hence the moisture and vapour from it is hot, fine and sticky. Thus, when it is brought close by, because of the kind of vapour that it is and because it carries with it a fine moisture, it produces tears; when it is eaten, the exhalation passes through […there is a lacuna here…]. Garlic is hot and acrid and has moisture, but it is not sticky, so it does not produce tears.

Διὰ τί τὸ κρόμμυον μόνον οὕτως περιττῶς δάκνει τὼ ὀφθαλμώ (διὸ καὶ τοὔνομά φασι τοῦτ' ἔχειν αὐτό, ὡς τὴν κόρην ποιεῖν συμμύειν), ἡ δὲ ὀρίγανος οὔ, οὐδ' ἄλλα δριμέα ὄντα; καὶ γὰρ τὸ ἀνάρρινον μᾶλλον δάκνον οὐ ποιεῖ ὁμοίως δακρύειν προσφερόμενον, τὸ δὲ προσφερόμενον καὶ κατατρωγόμενον. ἢ ὅτι διαφοραὶ πολλαὶ ἀκολουθοῦσιν ἑκάστοις τῶν δριμέων, ἃ ποιεῖ τὴν ἰδίαν ἑκάστου δύναμιν; τὸ μὲν οὖν ἀνάρρινον διὰ τὸ θερμότερον εἶναι ξηραντικώτερόν ἐστι τῆς γινομένης ὑπ' αὐτοῦ συντήξεως, ἐπεὶ ποιεῖ γε δάκρυον ἐσθίοντι· προσφερόμενον δὲ οὔ, ὅτι οὐκ ἀπατμίζει ἀπ' αὐτοῦ λεπτόν τι· ξηρότερον γάρ ἐστι καὶ θερμότερον. ἡ δὲ ὀρίγανος καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα θερμὰ ξηρά ἐστιν ἠρέμα. δεῖ δὲ τὸ μέλλον δάκρυον ποιήσειν δηκτικὸν καὶ ὑγρὸν εἶναι καὶ γλίσχρον. διὸ καὶ τὸ ἔλαιον ποιεῖ δακρύειν, ἀσθενῆ ἔχον δῆξιν· διὰ γλισχρότητα γὰρ καὶ λεπτότητα παραδῦνον ποιεῖ τὸν πόνον, καὶ τὴν σύντηξιν διὰ τὸν πόνον. τὸ δὲ κρόμμυον τοιαύτην ἔχει τὴν δύναμιν ὥστε καὶ τὸ ὑγρὸν καὶ τὴν ἀτμίδα αὐτοῦ θερμὴν καὶ λεπτὴν καὶ γλίσχραν εἶναι. ὥστε προσφερόμενον μέν, διὰ τὸ τὴν ἀτμίδα τοιαύτην εἶναι καὶ συναφιέναι ὑγρότητα λεπτήν, ποιεῖ δακρύειν, ἐσθιομένου δὲ ἡ ἀναθυμίασις διιοῦσα ... τὸ δὲ σκόροδον θερμὸν μὲν καὶ δριμύ ἐστι καὶ ὑγρότητα ἔχει, ἀλλ' οὐ γλίσχρον· διὸ οὐ ποιεῖ δακρύειν.

Pseudo-Aristotle, Problemata, 21.22, 925a27-925b12

Alexis on knowing frivolous things.

"You don’t know what you're talking about. Run over and have a conversation with Plato and become enlightened about soda and onions."

λέγεις περὶ ὧν οὐκ οἶσθα· συγγενοῦ τρέχων
Πλάτωνι καὶ γνώσῃ λίτρον καὶ κρόμμυον.

Alexis, Ancylion ap. Diogenes Laertius, Vita philosophorum, 3.37