1. See Panofsky, Tomb Sculpture, pp. 30–38, for the distinction between retrospective and prospective monuments and other examples of their symbolization. The dichotomy is taken up by Engemann, Untersuchungen zur Sepulkralsymbolik, p. 38, and again by Wrede, Consecratio, pp. 139–157.

2. ASR III.1, no. 21.

3. The old physician is identified as Cocytus (“in the medical arts, the disciple of Chiron”) in the sole literary source for this wound-tending scene: Ptolemy Hephaestion (fl. early second century a.d.), surviving in Photius, Bibliotheca, III.190 (= J. P. Migne, Patrologia Graeca, CIII, col. 607), cited by P. W. Lehmann, Roman Wall Paintings from Boscoreale, p. 58 n. 122; W. Atallah, Adonis dans la littérature et l’art grecs (Paris, 1966), p. 82, thus identifies the older figure seen at the rear on the Vatican fragment (ASR III.1, no. 17; here Fig. 11).

4. On the portraits, see Wrede, Consecratio, p. 195, with earlier bibliography. Cf. also the related phenomenon of statuary pairs of couples in the guise of Mars and Venus, with their implicit evocation of the divination of those so portrayed: see D. E. E. Kleiner, “Second-Century Mythological Portraiture: Mars and Venus,” Latomus 40 (1981).

5. See F. D’Andria, “Problemi iconografici nel ciclo di Apollo a Hieropolis di Frigia,” in EIDOLOPOIIA (Rome, 1985), pp. 55f., for a similar pair on the Apollo frieze at Hieropolis (his fig. 5), which he characterizes as a “pietà” (there, however, Adonis’s feet remain on the ground); D’Andria compares the composition to that on the Vatican sarcophagus and associates both with a Roman terracotta fragment found in Britain, now in the Ashmolean Museum, for which see J. M. C. Toynbee and I. N. Hume, “An Unusual Roman Sherd from the Upchurch Marshes,” ACant 69 (1956): 69–74.

6. See Brilliant, Gesture and Rank, pp. 74–76; C. Maderna, Iuppiter, Diomedes und Merkur als Vorbilder für römische Bildnisstatuen (Heidelberg, 1988), pp. 26–31. On the codification of such imagery in Augustan iconography, see Zanker, Power of Images, pp. 227ff.

7. On the Gemma Augustea, see Zanker, Power of Images, pp. 230ff. (with earlier bibliography). Cf. Andreae, in Helbig⁴ I (1963), no. 1120, who notes how the Vatican sarcophagus alludes to this iconography of apotheosis.

8. On the corona civica, see Zanker, Power of Images, pp. 92ff.; and cf. the similar significance of garlands on the Capitoline Endymion sarcophagus (Fig. 32, discussed below); see, further, the discussion in Sichtermann, Späte Endymion-Sarkophage, pp. 30–65.

9. Cf., inter alia, the apse mosaic at Santa Maria in Trastevere, Rome.

10. On the transfer of imagery from the public to the private sphere in Roman art, cf. the comments in E. W. Leach, The Rhetoric of Space: Literary and Artistic Representations of Landscape in Republican and Augustan Rome (Princeton, 1988), esp. pp. 199ff. For the thematics of “Privatapotheosis” on Roman sarcophagi, see Wrede, Consecratio, passim. It is possible that the prominent parapetasma that frames and dignifies the central pair may allude to such apotheosis: cf. the discussion of the related motif in Lameere, “Un symbole Pythagoricien.”

11. Cf. Plutarch, De Sera Numinis Vindicta, 22 [= Moralia, 563Bff.], on the revival of mortals by the gods.

12. Cf. Ovid, Metamorphoses, XIV.596ff., where the river Numicus “washes away from Aeneas all his mortal part.” On the washing of the corpse in Greek ritual, see Garland, Greek Way of Death, p. 24. Cf. B. Kotting, “Fusswaschung,” in RLAC, VIII, pp. 743ff.; Cicero, De Legibus, II.24; and see the passages collected in Macrobius, Saturnalia, III.1.6ff.

13. Late texts (in particular Lucian, Dea Syria, 6) suggest Adonis’s “resurrection”: cf. P. Lambrechts, “La résurrection d’Adonis,” in Mélanges Isidore Levy (Brussels, 1955); earlier Roman allusions are not unknown: cf. Propertius, II.13a.53ff.

14. The identification of the scene has long been debated: see, most recently, B. Schneider, “Zwei römische Elfenbeinplatten mit mythologischen Szenen,” KölnJbVFrühGesch 23 (1990): esp. 265–267 and fig. 14, where the earlier interpretations are recounted.

15. Thus P. W. Lehmann, Roman Wall Paintings from Boscoreale, pp. 57–59 and n. 121, followed by Servais-Soyez, “Adonis,” no. 43.

16. Iliad, V.302ff. The scene is illustrated on an Etruscan black-figure amphora, dated ca. 470 B.C., now in Würzburg; see G. Beckel, H. Froning, and E. Simon, Werke der Antike in Martin-von-Wagner Museen der Universität Würzburg (Mainz, 1983), cat. no. 27. Cf. Ovid’s allusion at Amores, III.9.15f.

17. Vergil, Aeneid, XII.398ff.

18. Three other ivory plaquettes of this type—whose original purpose and function remain a matter of speculation (although see the appendix by H. Berke to the article by Schneider, 1990)—also display imagery from Greek mythology carved on both sides and may be compared to this example (all are reproduced and discussed in Schneider, “Zwei römische Elfenbeinplatten,” where the earlier bibliography is given): (1) another from Pompeii that on each of its sides depicts two scenes of the Rape of Persephone; (2) a broken plaquette found at Eigelstein, whose Dionysiac imagery includes on one face Aphrodite Anadyomene and a cryptic scene with a youth, supported by a Silenus, who is offered grapes, and on the other side Dionysus, a seated woman, and Hermes; (3) another, also from Pompeii, found in fragments that include an eros, a nike, a dancing maenad, and a centaur.

19. For the tabulae iliacae on which the representation of the scene is codified, see A. Sadurska, Les Tables Iliaques (Warsaw, 1964); N. Horsfall, “Stesichorus at Bovillae?” JHS 99 (1979); cf. further the discussion of the scene, which also appears on a sarcophagus now in Basel, in the entry by N. Gmür Brianza in Antiken Kunstwerke aus der Sammlung Ludwig, III, ed. E. Berger (Mainz, 1990), cat. no. 255, esp. pp. 404–406. The old man in this scene was identified by Lehmann as Cinyras, Adonis’s elderly father, an interpretation that depended entirely on the belief that the other side represented “the injured hunter [Adonis] attended by two companions who attempt to care for his wound” (P. W. Lehmann, Roman Wall Painting from Boscoreale, pp. 57–58).

20. The motif has been studied recently by L. Musso, “Il trasporto funebre di Achille sul rilievo Colonna-Grottaferrata: Una nota di iconografia,” BullComm 93 (1989–90), who believes the scene on the Colonna-Grottaferrata relief (and, by inference, the other renditions as well) represents Achilles—even though no ancient iconographic tradition is attested; cf. A. Kossatz-Deissmann, “Achilleus,” in LIMC, I.

21. Musso, “Il trasporto funebre,” p. 16 and n. 47.

22. The motif of the carrying of a dead hero was reworked from older Greek models by the artists responsible for these Roman representations, as a number of early examples demonstrate: cf. the British Museum “Sarpedon” (see P. J. Connor, “The Dead Hero and the Sleeping Giant by the Nikosthenes Painter at the Beginnings of a Motif,” AA [1984]: 394 and nn. 40–42) or the Bari volute krater depicting Makaria (see M. Schmidt, “Makaria I,” in LIMC, VI, no. 3). As these older Greek works make clear, the old man at the rear of this scene—who originally can have been introduced only to represent Priam, an identification that the Iliac Tablets confirm—is not an essential element of the basic scheme. There is, however, no early evidence that the composition was designed specifically to depict the return of Hector’s body: cf. the appearance of Hector on the early-fourth-century Italiote volute krater in the Hermitage, which employs the same motif to illustrate the scene, merely implied by Homer at Iliad, XXII.349–352, where Hector’s body is placed on the scales so that he may be ransomed for its weight in gold; see O. Touchefeu, “Hektor,” in LIMC, IV, no. 92; J. W. Graham, “The Ransom of Hector on a New Melian Relief,” AJA 62 (1958).

23. Cf. their evocation by Ovid, Tristia, V.4.7ff.

24. The sources of the Philoctetes myth are conveniently summarized by K. Fiehn, “Philoktetes,” in RE, XIX; the artistic evidence is discussed in L. A. Milani, Il mito di Filottete (Florence, 1879). For the Basel sarcophagus, see the materials cited in n. 26, below. Other ancient pendants are known: cf., e.g., Achilles Tatius, III.6, for Andromeda and Prometheus; for Andromeda and Niobe on South Italian vases, see E. Keuls, “Aeschylus’ Niobe and Apulian Funerary Symbolism,” ZPE 30 (1978): 61–64; for Leda and Ganymede, see Anthologia Graeca, V.65 (= LCL ed., I, pp. 160–161), as well as a now-lost sarcophagus (ASR III.1, p. 545); and for Endymion and Hippolytus on an ivory diptych now in Brescia, W. F. Volbach, Elfenbeinarbeiten (Mainz, 1971), cat. no. 66. For the following discussion of the Philoctetes myth I am indebted to the advice of my friends Lisa Florman and Constantine Marinescu.

25. Cf., however, J. Boardman, “Herakles in Extremis,” in Studien zur Mythologie und Vasenmalerei, ed. E. Böhr and W. Martini (Mainz, 1986), 128, who notes that although Philoctetes’ essential presence for victory at Troy is made clear both by Homer and the Little Iliad, “there is no suggestion in any early source that his possession of Herakles’ bow was also an essential element, or even an element at all, rather than an appropriate later addition.”

26. For a substantial list see the materials cited by Milani, Il mito di Filottete; and F. Brommer, Denkmälerlisten zur griechischen Heldensage (Marburg, 1976), III, pp. 407–412. For the Etruscan urns (Guarnacci no. 333; Cortona no. 24), see F.-H. Pairault, Recherches sur quelques séries d’urnes de Volterra à représentations mythologiques (Rome, 1972), pp. 205–208. For the mirror, now in Bologna, see Milani, pp. 104–105 and fig. 49. For the Hoby cup, in Copenhagen, see V. Poulsen, “Die Silberbecher von Hoby,” AntP 8 (1968); E. Künzl, in Kaiser Augustus und die verlorene Republik (ex. cat.: Berlin, 1988), pp. 569–571, nos. 396–397. For the Arretine reproduction of the Hoby cup, see K. Friis Johansen, “New Evidence about the Hoby Silver Cups,” ActaArch 31 (1960); and E. Ettlinger, “Arretina und augusteisches Silber,” in Gestalt und Geschichte: Festschrift K. Schefold (Bern, 1967). For one of the sarcophagi, formerly in Florence, see ASR II, pp. 148–152, no. 139; for the other, formerly at Hever Castle and now in Basel, see Gmür Brianza in Antiken Kunstwerke aus der Sammlung Ludwig, cat. no. 255; H. Herdejürgen, “Beobachtungen an den Lünettenreliefs Hadrianischer Girlandensarkophage,” AntK 32¹ (1989): esp. 17–19; H. G. Oehler, Foto und Skulptur: Römische Antiken in englischen Schlößern (Cologne, 1980), p. 66, no. 49 and plate; D. Strong, “Some Unknown Classical Sculpture…at Hever Castle,” The Connoisseur 158 (1965): 224, cat. no. 11, fig. 21; and Koch and Sichtermann, Römische Sarkophage, p. 190 n. 11; p. 231, no. 10; and plate 271.

27. See the speech of Herakles in Sophocles’ Philoktetes, 1408ff.; and cf. Griffin, Mirror of Myth, chapter 3 (“The Endurance of Pain”), for a discussion of that “great nature which can suffer greatly” (p. 88).

28. See the materials cited in nn. 24 and 26 above.

29. Cf. Wrede, Consecratio, p. 195; see also p. 152.

30. ASR III.1, no. 15.

31. ASR III.1, p. 18.

32. See the passage cited at n. 17, above. The fresco comes from Pompeii’s Casa di Sirico (VII, 1, 25 and 47 [8]; now Naples, Museo Nazionale, no. 9009). Cf. the comments in Leach, Rhetoric of Space, pp. 9f. (and notes, with previous bibliography); and D. Gillis, Eros and Death in the Aeneid (Rome, 1983), pp. 89–90; see also F. Canciani, “Aineias,” in LIMC, I, no. 174.

33. Cf. Ovid, Metamorphoses, XIV.586ff.: “to my Aeneas…grant…some divinity, however small.” Thus for the son the goddess attains what could not be gotten for the father: cf. Venus’s desire to restore to Anchises his youth, at Metamorphoses, IX.424f.

34. C. W. Macleod, “A Use of Myth in Ancient Poetry,” CQ 24 (1974); see, further, the related discussion in Chapter 6, below.

35. The familiarity of Roman spectators with the juxtaposition of mythological images can be claimed despite the long-standing dispute over the meaning they attached to it. See, inter alia, K. Schefold, La peinture pompéienne: Essai sur l’évolution de sa signification (Brussels, 1972), pp. 120ff; M. L. Thompson, “The Monumental and Literary Evidence for Programmatic Painting in Antiquity,” Marsyas 9 (1960–61); Brilliant, Visual Narratives, pp. 59–82; Leach, Rhetoric of Space, pp. 361–408; T. Wirth, “Zum Bildprogramm der Räume N und P in der Casa dei Vettii,” RM 90 (1983) ; J. Clarke, The Houses of Roman Italy, 100 B.C.–a.d. 250 (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1991), esp. chapter 5; and see, further, Chapter 5, below.

36. Cf. Leach, Rhetoric of Space, pp. 9f.

37. See Canciani, “Aineias”; Brommer, Denkmälerlisten, III, pp. 20–27; P. Noelke, “Aeneasdarstellungen in der römischen Plastik der Rheinzone,” Germania 54 (1976); Koch and Sichtermann, Römische Sarkophage, p. 134.

38. See Canciani, “Aineias,” no. 176; P. Zazoff, Die antiken Gemmen (Munich, 1983), p. 329 n. 154 and plate 100, no. 6; E. Zwierlein-Diehl, Antiken Gemmen in deutschen Sammlungen, Bd. II: Berlin (Munich, 1969), p. 176, no. 475, plate 84; p. 155, no. 404, plate 71 (the last is incorrectly cited in Canciani). J. J. Winckelmann, Monumenti Antichi Inediti (Rome, 1821), II, p. 163 and plate 122, reproduces a gem that depicts the Aeneas scene, but which is cited by Winckelmann as a representation of Achilles and Telephos.

39. See the materials collected in G. F. Kunz, Rings for the Finger (London, 1917), chapter VII (“Magic and Talismanic Rings”), pp. 288–335, and chapter VIII (“Rings of Healing”), pp. 336–354; and see now the suggestion of a Greek ring’s apotropaic power in H. Hoffmann, “Bellerophon and the Chimaira in Malibu: A Greek Myth and an Archaeological Context,” Studia Varia from the J. Paul Getty Museum, vol. I; cf., further, C. Bonner, Studies in Magical Amulets, Chiefly Graeco-Egyptian (Ann Arbor and London, 1950), pp. 45–94, on apotropaic amulets.