Perfumery is a dyer’s and witch’s art

For Walpurgisnacht. In the Gryllus (Bruta animalia ratione uti), Plutarch has Odysseus argue with a man-turned-pig (Gryllus) about whether it is better to be a human or an animal. Odysseus thinks there is nothing better than being Greek. Gryllus counters, giving considerations in favour of being a pig. For one thing, he says, they are naturally virtuous and don’t have to be taught to be good. Their sexes are equal, by which he means they share equally in traditional Greek male virtues. And, in what he takes to be a knock-down argument, he says animals have no interest in luxury, which he associates with un-virtue and the human feminine: animals can ignore gold and silver as they would any other stone, they prefer mud to finely dyed robes and tapestries, and they don’t mind smelling of dirt:

“And besides, smell does not trouble us as it does you. Incenses, cinnamons, nards, phyllas, Arabian calamuses—you are compelled to collect and combine them together using a terrible art of dyers and witches that goes by the name ‘perfumery.’ You pay a lot of money for a luxury that is unmanly, girlish and which has no real use at all.”

τἄλλα δ’ οὐκ ἐνοχλεῖ, καθάπερ ὑμῖν, τὰ θυμιάματα καὶ κινάμωμα καὶ νάρδους καὶ φύλλα καὶ καλάμους Ἀραβικοὺς μετὰ δεινῆς τινος δευσοποιοῦ καὶ* φαρμακίδος τέχνης, ᾗ μυρεψικῆς ὄνομα, συνάγειν εἰς ταὐτὸ καὶ συμφυρᾶν** ἀναγκάζουσα, χρημάτων πολλῶν ἡδυπάθειαν ἄνανδρον καὶ κορασιώδη καὶ πρὸς οὐδὲν οὐδαμῶς χρήσιμον ὠνουμένους.

*καὶ δευσοποιοῦ Bernardakis

** συμφυρᾶν Bernardakis: συμφαγεῖν Teub.

Plutarch, The use of reason by irrational animals 7 (Moralia 990B2–9 = 6.94,11–18 Bernardakis)

More on menstruating women and mirrors

I covered some of the Aristotelian tradition here. This time, an obscure man named Bithus (Bythus?) from Dyrrhachium, (modern Durrës in Albania), if we can trust Pliny and the manuscript tradition.

“Bithus of Dyrrachium says that mirrors dimmed by the look [sc. of menstruating women] recover their brightness when the same women return their gaze to the backs of them, and that all such powers are broken if women keep mullet-fish on them.”

bithus durrachinus hebetata aspectu specula recipere nitorem tradit isdem aversa rursus contuentibus, omnemque vim talem resolvi, si mullum piscem secum habeant.

Plinius Secundus, Naturalis historia 28.7

Spell for unknown effect

Take the blood of an owl and myrrh ink, mix the two together, and, using a new reed, draw the figure as appended* on a clean tablet. And having stared simultaneously at a clean wall, while glancing to the east, having fixed the image to a pure linen cloth using thorns from a male date palm, veil the image completely. Then after stepping back from it six cubits, once you have veiled it, count to fifty-nine three times while walking backwards, stopping at the six-cubits-mark.

Λαβὼν αἷμα νυκτιβαοῦτος καὶ ζμυρνομέλαν, ὁμοῦ τὰ δύο μίξας γράφε καινῷ καλάμῳ τὸ ζῴδιον, καθὼς περιέχι, εἰς πιττάκιον καθαρόν, καὶ ἅμ' ἀτενίσας εἰς τοῖχον καθαρόν, εἰς ἀνατολὴν βλέπων, πήξας εἰς σουδάριον ὁλόλινον σκόλοψιν ἀρρενικοῦ φοίνικος συνκάλυπτε τὸ ζῴδιον καὶ ἀποστὰς ἀπ' αὐτο̣ῦ̣ πήχεις ἕξ, συνκαλύψας μέτρησον πεντήκοντα ἐννέα ἐπὶ τρὶς ἀναποδίζων, στήκων ἐπὶ τὸ σημῖον τῶν ἓξ πηχῶν.

Magical Greek Papyri 36.264–274

*The image is not appended. No purpose is given.

Venerean Arts

‘mulier recte olet ubi nihil olet’

I’ve not had much time to post recently. I’ve been working on starting up Alchemies of Scent and trying to finish a few articles and books. But I’m also getting into some material on perfumery and other arts associated with Aphrodite / Venus. I had some time to translate and find a nice photo, so I thought I would put it up.

In the Greco-Roman lineage of texts I work with, there are many references to arts and technology of elegance, luxury and playfulness. They include perfumery, dyeing, fine metal working, embroidery, garment making, garland weaving, and also singing and other arts associated with the symposium.

I’ve started referring to them as the arts of Venus, “the Venerean arts,” since Aphrodite / Venus seems to govern them in astrological texts. As a nice bonus, Eros and Psyche figure in the arts’ frescoes at the house of the Vettii in Pompeii, hinting at a connection beyond astrology.

Being a luxury art doesn’t usually carry positive connotations for the authors I study. Instead, they are associated with things these authors consider to be morally inferior or wrong: wealth, femininity, impermanence, vanity and untrustworthiness.

The association between these authors’ moral categories and the Venerean arts is likely one reason why these arts were attacked and mocked by so many Greek and Roman voices that have survived and by many people who have followed them.

For example, we’re told Solon proclaimed a law that forbade Athenian citizens from being perfumers [1]. Xenophon’s Socrates says men have no need of perfume beyond the scent of sweat and olive oil, while women have no need for any scent at all beyond what is natural [2]. Plautus, in his Ghost Story (the Mostellaria, perhaps an adaptation of an earlier Athenian play), has a character say, mulier recte olet ubi nihil olet —‘a woman smells best when she smells of nothing at all’ [3]. Seneca reports a saying that one can tell a scoundrel by the fact that he wears perfume [4]. Doctors like Athenaeus or Galen say that a luxurious lifestyle also involves unhealthy behaviours, where ‘unhealthy behaviours’ often map closely on to behaviours these same figures take to be morally wrong (the causal direction here is not always clear).

Such condemnations of the Venerean arts are pretty familiar from surviving philosophical and political writings of the period.

Despite these critiques, however, the markets continued and the arts themselves survived. Even if the promoters of Solon and Socrates would want to make it appear so, the interest in and demand for luxury goods seems not to have exclusively provoked moral concern. There are many other interesting aspects of such arts, including their place in the history of science.

Still, I think it’s interesting that so many critics of these arts survive and how loud they have been in Greco-Roman literature’s history. I’m curious why we don’t find more impartial or even positive discussions of them, as, e.g., in Theophrastus or Dioscorides. I’m also curious what the original context of the discusisons about luxury might have been, since it is not obvious, and it is perhaps even doubtful, that such critical views were held by everyone.

For now, though, I’m looking into the artists of elegance and luxury themselves: how were they seen and grouped together at different times and how did they see themselves?

One set of sources I’ve come across are 2nd century CE astrological writings—texts where Aphrodite is given provenance over certain arts and offices. The following two are in Greek language by authors from the eastern and southern Mediterranean.

Sources for Veneran Arts in Astrological Writings

Here is Vettius Valens, who was originally from Antioch and perhaps later worked in Egypt:

“Aphrodite is desire and love. She is a sign of motherhood and nurturing. She produces offices of priests, schoolmasters, those with a right to wear a gold ring, and those with the right to wear a crown; she produces cheerfulness, friendship, companionship, the acquisition of property, the purchase of ornaments, contracts on favourable terms, marriages, arts of elegance, fine voices, song writing, sweet melodies, shapeliness, painting, mixing of pigments in embroidery, dyeing, and perfumery, and the inventors or even masters of these crafts, craftsmanship or trade to do with working of emeralds, precious stones, and ivory; and along her boundaries and portions of the zodiac, she makes gold-spinners, gold workers, barbers, people fond of elegance, and people who love playfulness.”

Ἡ δὲ Ἀφροδίτη ἐστὶ μὲν ἐπιθυμία καὶ ἔρως, σημαίνει δὲ μητέρα καὶ τροφόν· ποιεῖ δὲ ἱερωσύνας, γυμνασιαρχίας, χρυσοφορίας, στεμματοφορίας, εὐφροσύνας, φιλίας, ὁμιλίας, ἐπικτήσεις ὑπαρχόντων, ἀγορασμοὺς κόσμου, συναλλαγὰς ἐπὶ τὸ ἀγαθόν, γάμους, τέχνας καθαρίους, εὐφωνίας, μουσουργίας, ἡδυμελείας, εὐμορφίας, ζωγραφίας, χρωμάτων κράσεις καὶ ποικιλτικήν, πορφυροβαφίαν καὶ μυρεψικήν, τούς τε τούτων προπάτορας ἢ καὶ κυρίους, τέχνας ἢ ἐμπορίας ἐργασίας σμαράγδου τε καὶ λιθείας, ἐλεφαντουργίας· οὓς δὲ χρυσονήτας, χρυσοκοσμήτας, κουρεῖς, φιλοκαθαρίους καὶ φιλοπαιγνίους αὐτοὺς ἀποτελεῖ παρὰ τὰ τῶν ζῳδίων αὐτῆς ὅρια καὶ τὰς μοίρας.

Vettius Valens, Anthologia 1.1.6 (3,16–26) (English)

And here is Ptolemy, from Alexandria:

“When Aphrodite causes someone’s profession, she makes them persons whose activities lie in the scents of flowers or of perfumes, in wines, pigments, dyes, spices, or adornments, as, for example, sellers of perfumes, weavers of garlands, innkeepers, wine-merchants, sellers of drugs, weavers, dealers in spices, painters, dyers, sellers of clothing.”

ὁ δὲ τῆς Ἀφροδίτης τὸ πράσσειν παρέχων ποιεῖ τοὺς παρ’ ὀσμαῖς ἀνθέων ἢ μύρων ἢ οἴνοις ἢ χρώμασιν ἢ βαφαῖς ἢ ἀρώμασιν ἢ κοσμίοις τὰς πράξεις ἔχοντας, οἷον μυροπώλας, στεφανοπλόκους, ἐκδοχέας, οἰνεμπόρους, φαρμακοπώλας, ὑφάντας, ἀρωματοπώλας, ζωγράφους, βαφέας, ἱματιοπώλας.

Ptolemy, Tetrabiblos 4.4.4

[1] Athen. Deipn. 15.34, 519 Kaibel (Greek | English)
[2] Xen. Symp. 2.3 (Greek | English)
[3] Plaut. Mostell. 1.3 273 (Latin | English)
[4] Sen. Ep. 86.11 (Latin | English)

The Metamorphosis of Pamphile

Walpurgisnacht 2022. A mirror-story to Lucius’ metamorphosis.

“[Photis and I] spent a few nights in pleasure like this, until the day she ran to me, excited and trembling, to tell me that, because her mistress had not made any progress with her lovers by other means, she would turn herself into a bird at the first watch of the night and fly down to the object of her desire. I meanwhile was to get ready to observe such an event.

“After we had waited for the first watch of the night, Photis led me silent-footed to the upper bedchamber and suggested I look through the crack of the door to see what was happening.

“First, Pamphile completely undressed herself. Then, she opened a chest and took out a few small boxes. She removed the lid from one of them and poured out some perfume. She worked it for a while between her palms. Then she rubbed herself all over from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair, and after whispering to her lamp a while in secret, her limbs began to tremble, quivering and shaking. As they began to swell, soft plumage and powerful wings burst out and took shape. Her nose hardened and curved, her toenails thickened into talons, and Pamphile became an owl. She let out screech, and after a few small attempts, she sprung from the ground and flew, her wings wide, out into sublime heights.”

Ad hunc modum transactis voluptarie paucis noctibus, quadam die percita Fotis ac satis trepida me accurrit indicatque dominam suam, quod nihil etiam tunc in suos amores ceteris artibus promoveret nocte proxima in avem sese plumaturam atque ad suum cupitum sic devolaturam; proin memet ad rei tantae speculam caute praepararem.

Iamque circa primam noctis vigiliam ad illud superius cubiculum suspenso et insono vestigio me perducit ipsa, perque rimam ostiorum quampiam iubet arbitrari quae sic gesta sunt.

Iam primum omnibus laciniis se devestit Pamphile et arcula quadam reclusa pyxides plusculas inde depromit, de quis unius operculo remoto atque indidem egesta unguedine diuque palmulis sui affricta ab imis unguibus sese totam adusque summos capillos perlinit, multumque cum lucerna secreto collocuta membra tremulo succussu quatit: quis leniter fluctuantibus promicant molles plumulae crescunt et fortes pinnulae, duratur nasus incurvus coguntur ungues adunci, fit bubo Pamphile. Sic edito stridore querulo, iam sui periclitabunda paulatini terra resultat, mox in altum sublimata forinsecus totis alis evolat.

Apuleius, Metamorphoses 3.21

Aetius of Amida on the Choking Cure of St. Blaise

“[Treatment] for swallowing of a bone and for removing things that are stuck in the throat. Hold on to the patient with them sitting opposite you, and make them hold on to you. Say: ‘Come up, bone—whether you are a bone or a twig or anything else—just like Jesus Christ brought Lazarus up from the grave, and like Jonah was brought up out of the sea monster.’ Another. Cover the throat of the patient. Say: ‘Blaise, the martyr, the servant of god, says, ‘either rise up, bone, or go down.’”

Πρὸς ὀστοῦ κατάποσιν καὶ πρὸς ἀναβολὴν τῶν καταπειρομένων εἰς τὰ παρίσθμια. προσέχων τῷ πάσχοντι ἀνθρώπῳ ἄντικρυς καθεζομένῳ καὶ ποιήσας αὐτὸν προσέχειν σοι λέγε· ἄνελθε, ὀστοῦν, εἴτε ὀστοῦν ἢ κάρφος [<ϛ>] ἢ ἄλλο ὁτιοῦν, ὡς Ἰησοῦς Χριστὸς Λάζαρον ἀπὸ τοῦ τάφου ἀνήγαγε, καὶ ὡς Ἰωνᾶν ἐκ τοῦ κήτους. Ἄλλο. κατέχων τὸν λάρυγγα τοῦ πάσχοντος λέγε· Βλάσιος ὁ μάρτυς ὁ δοῦλος τοῦ θεοῦ λέγει· ἢ ἀνάβηθι, ὀστοῦν, ἢ κατάβηθι.

Aetius of Amida, Libri Medicinales 8.54

Going Skythian

When they want to drink wine that’s more undiluted, the Lakonians themselves say they “go Skythian.” Khamaileon of Herakleia in On Drunkenness at any rate writes about them as follows:

“the Lakonians say that Kleomenes the Spartan went mad because he learned to drink undiluted wine, having spent time with the Skythians. That’s why, when they wish to drink more undiluted wine, they say, ‘make it Skythian.’”

καὶ αὐτοὶ δ’ οἱ Λάκωνες ὅταν βούλωνται ἀκρατέστερον πίνειν, ἐπισκυθίσαι λέγουσι. Χαμαιλέων γοῦν ὁ Ἡρακλεώτης ἐν τῷ περὶ μέθης περὶ τούτων οὕτως γράφει·

«ἐπεὶ καὶ Κλεομένη τὸν Σπαρτιάτην φασὶν οἱ Λάκωνες μανῆναι διὰ τὸ Σκύθαις ὁμιλήσαντα μαθεῖν ἀκρατοποτεῖν. ὅθεν ὅταν βούλωνται πιεῖν ἀκρατέστερον, ‘ἐπισκύθισον’ λέγουσιν».

Athenaeus of Naucratis, Deipnosophistae, 10.29

A Myrrh and Iron Gall Ink from the Magical Greek Papyri

A spell to make everyone love you, and one of the earliest recipes for iron gall ink. From Leiden Papyrus J 384, PGM 12 in Preisendanz’ collection of Magical Greek Papyri, perhaps 2nd or 3rd century CE.

“To be attractive and loveable forever. Take a root of pasithea or wormwood, and [on it] write this name in a holy way:

“Carry it and you will be attractive, loveable and extraordinary to those who look on you.

“The formula:

• 1 drachma of myrrh

• 4 drachmai of misy

• 2 drachmai of vitriol

• 2 drachmai of oak galls

• 3 drachmai of gum arabic.”

προς επιχιρειαν[1] καὶ φιλεὶάν[2] δια παντος λαβων ριζαν πασιθεαν η αρτεμισιαν επιγραφε το □[3] τουτο αγνως [see image] και φορει και εση και επιχιρεις[4] και προσφιλης και θαυμαστος τοις ορωσι σοι.

ἡ ἀναγραφή· ζμύρνης δραχμὴ αʹ, μίσυος δραχμαὶ δʹ, χαλκάνθου δραχμαὶ βʹ, κηκίδων δραχμαὶ βʹ, κόμεως δραχμαὶ γʹ.

[1] ἐπιχάρειαν Pr. [2] φιλίαν Pr. [3] ὄνομα Pr. [4] ἐπίχαρις Pr.

P. Leid. J 384, col. 12, 24,13–16 Daniel = PGM XII 397–400 = old Leiden Papyrus V (English here)

---

Notes

For the first part of the text, I’ve transcribed Daniel’s edition (no accents for the most part or punctuation), but I’ve used Preisendanz’ edition for the formula. There’s some debate about what μίσυ (misy) and χάλκανθος (khalkanthos) refer to.

Misy. In Betz’ collection, Martin translates μίσυ as “truffle.” There is a kind of truffle called μίσυ mentioned in LSJ; but Preisendanz and Christiansen both suggest it refers to a substance found in mines, the misy mentioned by Dioscorides (5.100) and Pliny (34.121–122). Preisendanz translates as “Vitriolerz” (vol, 2, p.83), one term given in Pape, and which makes more sense. In a recent article, Thomas Christiansen (p. 184) suggests misy might be the decomposed iron sulfide contained in chalco-pyrites (CuFe₂).

Khalkanthos. The word comes from χαλκός (copper) + ἄνθος (bloom). Pliny says it is prepared in Spain by collecting water from wells or mining pits, boiling it down, then putting it into a wooden reservoir and leaving cords to hang down into the water. Glass-like growths form on the cords and the are collected (34.123–124, English). He says it is known as atramentum sutorium in Latin, “shoemaker’s black,” and suggests the Greek term is evidence the substance is related to copper. Dioscorides also mentions there are different kinds of χάλκανθος, one of which, known as ἐφθόν (“boiled”) and prepared in Spain, was used to dye leather black. Christiansen (p. 182) points out this may indicate some confusion in the history of vitriols (sulfate compounds named after their glass-like appearance). After Razi, vitriols are distinguished into two kinds: blue and green. Blue vitriol corresponds roughly to copper (II) sulfate pentahydrate (CuSO₄·5H₂O) and green vitriol corresponds to iron (II) sulfate heptahydrate (FeSO₄·7H₂O). Before Razi, however, it seems they were not systematically distinguished either conceptually or physically. The substance is called “shoemaker’s black” because when combined with the tannin from oak galls used in tanning leather, the iron (II) would form a complex with the tannic acid, ferrous tannate, a black soluble pigment. When it dries, the complex reacts with oxygen in the air to form insoluble ferric tannate. This is the same reaction that makes iron gall inks so permanent. There’s a good wiki about this and lots online. I wrote about a different use of gall ink here: to write secret messages on eggs.

The first known occurence of a recipe for an iron gall ink is for an invisible ink. It’s from Philo of Byzantium, who writes about how to get secret messages out of a city under siege:

“The letters (sent by those under siege) are written in a new hat on the skin after crushing oak galls and soaking them in water. When dried, the writing becomes invisible, but if flower of copper is ground like ink in water and a sponge is soaked with it, when wiped with the sponge, they become visible.”

γράφονται δ' αἱ ἐπιστολαὶ εἰς καυσίαν καινὴν εἰς τὸν χρῶτα κηκῖδος θλασθείσης καὶ ὕδατι βραχείσης· ξηρανθέντα δὲ τὰ γράμματα ἄδηλα γίνεται, χαλκοῦ δὲ ἄνθους τριφθέντος ὥσπερ ἐν ὕδατι τὸ μέλαν καὶ ἐν τούτῳ σπόγγου βραχέντος, ὅταν ἀποσπογγισθῇ τούτῳ, φανερὰ γίνεται.

Philo of Byzantium, Belopoeica, ed. Diels and Schramm, 79

The AlchemEast team has written a great piece detailing their experiments replicating this recipe using blue and green vitriols.

Other observations

Myrrh. Christiansen thinks the myrrh here is not the raw resin, but ash from burnt resin. Burnt resins were used to make carbon inks, and this may be the case here; however, there is no mention in the recipe that the myrrh is burnt.

The Reaction. The reaction itself is pretty striking. Here's an example:

Oak gall and khalkanthos

Encouragement for the unwounded

My friend died two weeks ago. It feels like yesterday and it feels like it didn’t happen. When I left at the end of August, she gave me Isherwood’s Goodbye to Berlin. The inscription said she hoped the title was inappropriate and that I would have not just one safe journey to Prague, but many. I have a postcard still to send her.

Below, a passage which she quoted in her book on the treatment of war wounds.

***

‘…Then the Macedonians turned the battle around against the barbarians and once they were defeated, they brought the city down on top of them. This was no help to Alexander, however. He was taken from the field along with the missile: the shaft of the arrow pierced his vital organs, and the arrow bound and fixed his breastplate to his body.

‘When they tried forcing it out from the root, as it were, of the wound, the iron would not yield to them. It was lodged in the solid part of his breast in front of the heart. They did not dare to saw off the part of the shaft that was projecting out for fear it would cause excruciating pain and a rush of internal bleeding if the bone were to be split by the force.

‘Having noticed the great difficulty and hesitation, Alexander himself tried to cut the arrow off close to his body using his dagger, but his hand was too weak and heavy with numbness due to the inflammation of the wound. So he encouraged them. He commanded the unwounded to take hold and not fear. He railed against those who were in tears with concern for him, while others he called out as deserters since they did not dare to help him. And to his companions he cried out: “Let no one be wretched on my account. It will not be believed that I do not fear death if you fear for my death.”’

ἐτρέψαντο μὲν οὖν τοὺς βαρβάρους οἱ Μακεδόνες, καὶ πεσοῦσιν αὐτοῖς ἐπικατέσκαψαν τὴν πόλιν. Ἀλεξάνδρῳ δ' οὐδὲν ἦν ὄφελος· <ἀν>ήρπαστο γὰρ μετὰ τοῦ βέλους, καὶ τὸν κάλαμον ἐν τοῖς σπλάγχνοις εἶχε, καὶ δεσμὸς ἦν αὐτῷ καὶ ἧλος τὸ τόξευμα τοῦ θώρακος πρὸς τὸ σῶμα. καὶ σπάσαι μὲν ὥσπερ ἐκ ῥίζης τοῦ τραύματος βιαζομένοις οὐχ ὑπήκουεν ὁ σίδηρος, ἕδραν ἔχων τὰ πρὸ τῆς καρδίας στερεὰ τοῦ στήθους· ἐκπρῖσαι δὲ τοῦ δόνακος οὐκ ἐθάρρουν τὸ προῦχον, ἀλλ' ἐφοβοῦντο, μήπως σπαραγμῷ σχιζόμενον τὸ ὀστέον ὑπερβολὰς ἀλγηδόνων παράσχῃ καὶ ῥῆξις αἵματος ἐκ βάθους γένηται. πολλὴν δ' ἀπορίαν καὶ διατριβὴν ὁρῶν αὐτὸς ἐπεχείρησεν ἐν χρῷ τοῦ σώματος ἀποτέμνειν τῷ ξιφιδίῳ τὸν οἰστόν· ἠτόνει δ' ἡ χεὶρ καὶ βάρος εἶχε ναρκῶδες ὑπὸ φλεγμονῆς τοῦ τραύματος. ἐκέλευεν οὖν ἅπτεσθαι καὶ μὴ δεδιέναι θαρρύνων τοὺς ἀτρώτους· καὶ τοῖς μὲν ἐλοιδορεῖτο κλαίουσι καὶ περιπαθοῦσι, τοὺς δὲ λιποτάκτας ἀπεκάλει, μὴ τολμῶντας αὐτῷ βοηθεῖν· ἐβόα δὲ πρὸς τοὺς ἑταίρους «μηδεὶς ἔστω μηδ' ὑπὲρ ἐμοῦ δειλός· ἀπιστοῦμαι μὴ φοβεῖσθαι θάνατον, εἰ τὸν ἐμὸν φοβεῖσθ' ὑμεῖς.»

Plutarch, On the Fortune of Alexander, Moralia 344F–345B

Pseudo-Alexander wonders why his friend Apollonius didn't ask him earlier to write a book

I was recently moving to a new city, and I had promised myself that before I did I would finish a chapter I owed for a book (very late). This is basically the conversation that was going on in my head (I’m both people in this story):

“You asked me, Apollonius, best of Asclepiads, to give you a written version of my recent class lectures on fevers. That way, if you wanted to do some studying on fevers, you would have as it were a reminder of my lesson, especially now that I’ve decided to go abroad and will be far away from you, and you might not find anyone else who would so eagerly explain to you the secrets of medicine. I’m happy to do what you ask. In fact, I was prepared to produce a lesson for you had you asked for one, both lecture and notes, and not only on fevers, but on any other medical subject—just not now, when the other things I have to do before my trip are stressing me out and making it impossible to work on these kinds of things. But I would have done it before, namely when it was possible and I had time to write up the theory after your requested it. The study of fevers is, as you know, complex and difficult to study. Lots of time is required to get a hold on it and to write it down. And you agree that the work must be worthy of both you and me, otherwise it would be pointless for me to choose to write it up and you to choose to read it.

“In fact, in the end I had let go of the idea of doing it for these reasons, except that a certain saying of ancient men—a nice one—occurred to me and persuaded me that ‘one must do right by one’s friends, even if one must debase one’s art to meet their demands, and not hold back from this very thing.’ It then seemed right to me to put the present book together as a kind of introduction, and since I promise there will be another book on the whole theory of fevers at a suitable time later on, I offer you a reminder of true friendship by means of this discussion as deposit. And so let us comply with your request and say whatever the time allows us to say, not using the breadth of the art and our facility in discourse (if ever it existed), but making use rather of the brief time we have. But let’s be lenient with one another: you for <not> already asking me ages ago when it would have been easier to receive not an introduction but a long book on fevers; and me for not ever wanting to go against friends in any way.”

 ἤιτησας ἡμᾶς, Ἀσκληπιαδῶν ἄριστε, Ἀπολλώνιε, περὶ πυρετῶν σοι τοσαῦτα διὰ γραφῆς παραδοῦναι, ὅσα σχεδὸν πὰρ ἡμῖν φοιτῶντι διὰ γλώττης παρεδηλώσαμεν, ἵν' ὥσπερ ὑπόμνημα τῆς ἡμῶν εἴη σοι διδασκαλίας, βουλομένῳ περὶ πυρετῶν θεωρεῖν, καὶ μάλιστα νυνί, ὅτε καὶ ἀποδημεῖν ἡμεῖς ἐβουλευσάμεθα, καὶ μακρὰν ἀφ' ὑμῶν γενέσθαι, σὺ δὲ οὐκέτ' ἴσως ἕξεις τὸν οὕτω σοι προθύμως τὰ τῆς ἰατρικῆς διασαφήσοντα ὄργια. ἐγὼ μὲν οὖν ἕπεσθαί σοι ῥᾴδιος, ἐφ' ἃ κελεύεις αὐτός. καὶ μὴ ὅτι περὶ πυρετῶν, ἀλλὰ καὶ περὶ παντὸς ἄλλου θεωρήματος ἰατρικοῦ ἕτοιμος ἂν ἦν, σοῦ χάριν καὶ γλώττῃ καὶ γράμμασι διδασκαλίαν ποιήσασθαι, εἴγε μὴ νῦν, ὅτε πρὸς ἀλλ' ἄττα, τῆς ἐξόδου βιαζομένης, ἡμεῖς ἐπειγόμεθα, μὴ συγχωροῦντα τὴν περὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα σπουδήν, ἀλλὰ πρὸ καιροῦ, ὅτε δηλονότι οἷόν τε ἦν καὶ χρόνον ἡμῖν ἐγγενέσθαι μετὰ τὴν αἴτησιν πρὸς τὴν τοῦ θεωρήματος ξυγγραφήν, τὸ περὶ τούτων ὤφθης αἰτούμενος. πολυσχιδὴς γάρ, ὡς οἶδας, καὶ δυσθεώρητος ἡ περὶ πυρετῶν θεωρία καὶ πολλοῦ δεομένη χρόνου πρὸς κατάληψίν τε καὶ ξυγγραφήν· δεῖν δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἂν ξυμφαίης σαυτοῦ τε καὶ ἡμῶν αὐτῶν ἄξιον εἶναι τὸ σπουδαζόμενον, εἰ μὴ μάτην αὐτὸς μὲν γράφειν, σὺ δὲ ἀναγινώσκειν αἱρούμεθα.

καὶ εἴασα ἂν τελέως τοὐγχείρημα διὰ ταῦτα, εἰ μή τις λόγος παλαιῶν ἀνδρῶν καὶ καλῶς ἔχων ἐπῆλθε πείθων με, ὡς ἀνάγκη φιλίαις εἴκειν, κἂν δέῃ συγκατιέναι τὴν τέχνην, ἐπὶ ταῖς ἀξιώσεσι, μηδ' αὐτοῦ δὴ τούτου γε φείδεσθαι. ἀμέλει καὶ ἔδοξέ μοι, ὥσπερ ἐν εἰσαγωγῆς τρόπῳ, τὸ παρὸν συντάξασθαι σύγγραμμα, καὶ ἄλλο ἐπαγγελλόμενον περὶ τῆς ὅλης τῶν πυρετῶν θεωρίας, ἐν ἁρμόζοντι δῆθεν ἐσόμενον χρόνῳ, νυνὶ τουτί σοι ὡς ἐν ὑποθήκης ἐκδοῦναι λόγῳ, ἀκριβοῦς φιλίας ὑπόμνημα. καὶ δὴ λέγωμέν σοι πειθόμενοι, ἃ ἂν ὁ καιρὸς διδῷ, μὴ τῷ τῆς τέχνης πλάτει, καὶ τῇ ἡμετέρᾳ περὶ τὸ λέγειν, εἴ τίς ἐστιν, εὐπορίᾳ, τοῦ χρόνου δὲ μᾶλλον χρησάμενοι τῇ βραχύτητι. ἀμφοτέροις δὲ παρ' ἀμφοτέρων ἔσται συγγνώμη, σοὶ μὲν ἤδη πάλαι αἰτήσαντι, ὅτε μὴ εἰσαγωγήν, ἀλλὰ βίβλον μακρὰν <περὶ> πυρετῶν εἰληφέναι ῥᾴδιον ἦν, ἐμοὶ δὲ φίλοις ἐφ' ὁποιῳδηποτοῦν οὐκ ἀντιβαίνειν ἐθέλοντι.

Pseudo-Alexander of Aphrodisias, Fevers 1, 81–82 Ideler =1,1–2,12 Tassinari