Notes
1. For the surviving sources see E. Bethe, “Endymion,” in RE, V.2; H. Gabelmann, “Endymion,” in LIMC, III.
2. D. Page, Sappho and Alcaeus (Oxford, 1955), pp. 273.
3. Hesiod, Catalogues of Women and EOIAE, frag. 8 (surviving in Scholia in Apollonium Rhodium, IV.57); cf. Alcaeus, frag. (surviving in Apollonius Dyscolus, Pronouns, 103A), no. 317a in Greek Lyric, I.
4. This strange episode seems to have been a conflation of the Endymion myth with the very similar tale of Ixion: cf. Hesiod, The Great EOIAE, frag. 11 (surviving in Scholia in Apollonium Rhodium, IV.57) with Ovid, Metamorphoses, IV.461ff., X.42ff.; cf. IX.124ff.
5. Sappho, frag. (surviving in Scholia in Apollonium Rhodium, IV.57); cited from Greek Lyric, I, no. 199.
6. Ibid; Theocritus, Idylls, III.48f.; Herondas, Mimes, VIII.10; Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica, IV.57; Nicander, frag. (surviving in Scholia in Apollonium Rhodium, IV.57); Varro, frag. 105 (Endymiones, from the Saturae Menippeae); Catullus, LXVI.5f.; Propertius, II.15.15f.
7. Cicero, De Senectute, XXII.81.
8. Cicero, De Finibus, V.55–56.
9. The “deathlike sleep” comparison is also made by Plato, Phaedo, 72C; Cicero, Tusculanae Disputationes, I.92; Aristotle, Ethica Nicomachea, X.8.7; cf. Artemidorus, I.81. On this topos see P. Boyancé, “Le sommeil et l’immortalité,” MélRome 45 (1928); M. Ogle, “The Sleep of Death,” MAAR 2 (1933).
10. Isidorus Scholasticus of Bolbytine, Anthologia Graeca, VI.58; cf., further, the funerary inscriptions discussed in Chapter 6, below.
11. Ibykos, frag. 22 (surviving in Scholia in Apollonium Rhodium, IV.57); cited from Greek Lyric, III, frag. no. 284. Cf. also V. Pestalozza, “Aioleis e Kares nel mito di Endimione,” ArchGlottItal 39 (1954), on “la diaspora eolica partita dall’ Asia Minore.”
12. Apollodorus, Bibliotheca, I.7; Pausanias, V.1.
13. Cf. Veyne, Roman Erotic Elegy, p. 117, on the role of myth in the proverb, where “knowledge of the myth is condensed into a saying…that takes for granted a narrative that would justify it, which readers are to infer.”
14. See now the 110 examples catalogued in ASR XII.2, nos. 27–137.
15. Cf. Gabelmann, “Endymion,” p. 739: “Kern der Darstellungen auf den Sarkophagen ist die Ankunft der Selene bei Endymion”; K. Fittschen in GGA 221 (1969): 46; Sichtermann, in ASR XII.2, p. 47. Robert, in ASR III.1, p. 54, expanded the definition to include specifically Somnus, the erotes, and the figure who leads Selene’s horses, whom he called Aura; cf., further, Wrede, Consecratio, p. 152. The sole example that does not focus on the sleeping youth as he awaits Selene’s arrival is the subject of the following chapter.
16. For the Louvre sarcophagus, see ASR XII.2, no. 28. On the Greek origins of the Louvre sarcophagus and its association with the Capitoline example, see F. Gerke, Die christlichen Sarkophage der vorkonstantinischen Zeit (Berlin, 1940), pp. 120f. and n. 3; see also p. 331. On the Capitoline sarcophagus, see ASR XII.2, no. 27; for a date ca. 130, see Koch and Sichtermann, Römische Sarkophage, p. 261; for its simplicity as a sign of its “Greek” style, see Schefold, “Bilderbucher,” pp. 766f. Cf. the divergent opinions expressed in Sichtermann and Koch, Griechische Mythen auf römischen Sarkophagen, p. 27, where the Greek style of the composition is dismissed; and Koch and Sichtermann, Römische Sarkophage, pp. 269 and 522, where the rear face of the Louvre sarcophagus, with its bucrania and garlands, is said to reflect metropolitan influence; cf. further, however, the differing opinion voiced by Gabelmann, “Endymion,” p. 740, who notes that the Louvre relief deviates from the metropolitan type in both its basic simplicity and Endymion’s pose and should not be considered as the Vorbild of the Roman type.
17. Cf. Lucian, Dialogi Deorum, XIX (11); Hyginus, Fabulae, CCLXXI.
18. Cf. Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica, IV.57; Catullus, LXVI.5f.; Propertius, II.15.15f.; Lucian, Dialogi Deorum, XIX (11); Seneca, Hippolytus, 309–316; Nonnos, Dionysiaca, IV.195f.; Quintus Smyrnaeus, Post-homericorum, X.127–137.
19. Cf. Propertius, II.15.15f.; Ovid, Ars Amatoria, III.83, and Heroides, XVIII.62f.; Lucian, Dialogi Deorum, XIX (11), and De Sacrificiis, VII.
20. See materials cited in nn. 7–9, above.
21. Plutarch, Numa, IV. 2, and see materials cited in n. 18, above.
22. On the timeless nature of “eternal” death, see Garland, Greek Way of Death, p. 74; Apollodorus, Bibliotheca, I.7; cf. the inversion of the topos in the epigram by Isidorus Scholasticus of Bolbytine, Anthologia Graeca, VI.58, who says of Endymion: “for grey hair reigns over his whole head and no trace of his former beauty is left” (trans. W. R. Paton, The Greek Anthology, in LCL ed. [Cambridge and London, 1969], I, p. 329).
23. Among the loci classici of the “sacred grove” topos, cf. Plato’s Phaedrus, 229Aff. On the tree as a sign of the sacred nature of the place, see Schefold, “La force créatrice,” p. 186, and H. Sichtermann, “Mythologie und Landschaft,” Gymnasium 91 (1984): 296f.
24. For the goddess “love-struck” with desire, see the materials cited in Chapter 1, above, n. 8.
25. For the substitution of Thanatos for Hypnos on the Ariadne sarcophagi, see K. Lehmann-Hartleben and E. C. Olsen, Dionysiac Sarcophagi in Baltimore (Baltimore, 1942), p. 38; cf. Schefold, “La force créatrice,” p. 204. For the iconographic tradition of Sleep and Death, see E. Vermeule, Aspects of Death in Early Greek Art and Literature (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1979), pp. 145–177. On the older and bearded Thanatos as the companion of a youthful Hypnos, see Boyancé, “Le sommeil et l’immortalité,” esp. p. 102; J.-C. Eger, Le sommeil et la mort dans la Grèce antique (Paris, 1966), plate II, for Hypnos and Thanatos carrying the body of Sarpedon on a krater in the Louvre, and plate III, for a related scene on a lekythos in the British Museum.
26. Gabelmann, “Endymion,” p. 727, notes the effect of Endymion’s nudity and cites the influence of Propertius II.15.15f.
27. Cf. the commentary on “Epicurean pleasure” by J. Griffin, Latin Poets and Roman Life (London, 1985), chapter 7 (esp. p. 147). For the role and significance of prolepsis in ancient art, see S. Ferri, “Fenomeni di prolepsis,” AttiLinc (Rendiconti), ser. 8, 3 (1948). Less useful are R. Giordani, “Fenomeni di prolepsis disegnativa nei mosaici dell’arco di Santa Maria Maggiore,” RendPontAcc 46 (1973–74); and P. Lopreato, “Fenomeni prolettici in dittici tardo-antichi,” ArchCl 16 (1964).
28. Cf. Lucian, Dialogi Deorum, XIX (11): “Then I creep down quietly on tip-toe, so as not to waken him and give him a fright, and then—but you can guess; there’s no need to tell you what happens next”; trans. M. D. Macleod in LCL ed. (London and Cambridge, 1951). For the extremes to which eroticism might be taken on funerary monuments, cf. the Greek grave monument in F. Cumont, “Une pierre tombale érotique de Rome,” AntCl 9 (1940)—expurgated for publication, as pointed out by Panofsky, Tomb Sculpture, p. 19 n. 2.
29. This analysis finds confirmation in the most recent classification of the sarcophagi by Sichtermann in ASR XII.2; see the discussion on pp. 32–33, where Sichtermann has revised Robert’s original division (ASR III.1) into five groups, which demonstrate the eventual standardization of the single-scene, left-to-right type (Sichtermann’s fifth group).
30. See the discussion of such staffage in O. Pelikan, Vom antiken Realismus zur spätantiken Expressivität (Prague, 1965), p. 57; Jung, “Zur Vorgeschichte,” p. 71; and the brief remarks of Sichtermann in ASR XII.2, p. 39.
31. P. Laurens, L’abeille dans l’ambre: Célébration de l’épigramme de l’époque alexandrine à la fin de la Renaissance (Paris, 1989), pp. 49–51, with examples from the Casa degli Epigrammi, Pompeii (V, 1, 18); cf. K. Schefold, Die Wände Pompejis: Topographisches Verzeichnis der Bildmotive (Berlin, 1957), pp. 63–66, with further bibliography; see also A. Fowler, Kinds of Literature: An Introduction to the Theory of Genres and Modes (Oxford, 1982), pp. 195–202, on “epigrammatic modulations” that might diminish or extend the form.
32. A. Hardie, Statius and the “Silvae”: Poets, Patrons, and Epideixis in the Graeco-Roman World (Liverpool, 1983), pp. 119–124; G. Williams, Tradition and Originality in Roman Poetry (Oxford, 1968), esp. pp. 190ff. and 220–222.
33. Cf Propertius, II.15.15f., and Catullus, LXVI.5f. Cf. also the discussion of “mythic analogues” inserted within the fabric of the ancient romances, in Steiner, “Graphic Analogue from Myth.”
34. Dialogi Deorum, XIX (11). For Lucian’s similar transposition of a Theocritan Idyll into an overtly dramatic form, see B. P. Reardon, Courants littéraires grecs del IIe et IIIe siècles après J.-C. (Paris, 1971), p. 176.
35. The departure is found on the end panels of a number of sarcophagi (ASR XII.2, nos. 47, 72, 74, 76, 77, 105), where it allowed the artists to extend the narrative without disrupting or displacing the “arrival” scene at the center of the main panel.
36. K. Schefold, “Vorbilder römischer Landschaftsmalerei,” AM 71 (1956): 215f., apropos of the lost painting from Pompeii (Domus Volusi Fausti: I, 2, 17); cf. idem, “Origins of Roman Landscape Painting,” ArtB 42 (1960): 89.
37. Schefold, La peinture pompéienne, p. 114; S. Silberberg-Pierce, “Politics and Private Imagery: The Sacral-Idyllic Landscapes,” ArtH 3 (1980); Sichtermann, “Mythologie und Landschaft,” pp. 296–297.
38. For a large-scale illustration recording the lost painting, see P. Herrmann, Denkmäler des Malerei des Altertums (Munich, 1904), I, p. 186, and fig. 54. On the significance of the gesture of the rustic figure who witnesses the event, see I. Jucker, Der Gestus des Aposkopein (Zurich, 1956), p. 58.
39. Schefold, “Vorbilder römischer Landschaftmalerei,” p. 216; cf. W. J. T. Peters, Landscape in Romano-Campanian Mural Painting (Groningen, 1963), p. 86.
40. Schefold, “Bilderbücher,” p. 766, referring to ASR XII.2, no. 33.
41. On the Roman adaptation of the older Greek practice of “mirror reversals,” and the role of “doubling” as an integral part of the Roman aesthetics of display, see C. C. Vermeule, Greek Sculpture and Roman Taste: The Purpose and Setting of Graeco-Roman Art in Italy and the Greek Imperial East (Ann Arbor, 1977); Bartman, “Decor et Duplicatio”; and cf. the sarcophagus, now in the Vatican, where two statues (?) representing Sleep and Death flank the door of Hades: see Panofsky, Tomb Sculpture, pp. 37–38 and fig. 135. A further scene from the Endymion tale does appear, however, in ancient representations of the myth; see below, as well as Chapter 5.
42. For the differences between the two types of mythological landscapes, one comprising a single dramatic action, the other a continuous narration, see P. H. von Blanckenhagen, “Narration in Hellenistic and Roman Art,” AJA 61 (1957): 82; von Blanckenhagen and C. Alexander, The Paintings from Boscotrecase (Heidelberg, 1962), chapter III. See also the catalogue of paintings in C. M. Dawson, Romano-Campanian Mythological Landscape Painting (New Haven, 1944), chapter III.
43. Von Blanckenhagen, “Narration,” pp. 81–82. Cf. von Blanckenhagen and Alexander, The Paintings from Boscotrecase, pp. 43f.; and Leach, Rhetoric of Space, pp. 311–312, on the Roman penchant for verbal panoramic description as a parallel to the bird’s-eye views employed in these paintings; see also her contrast between landscape descriptions in Homer and Vergil, and the affinity of the latter’s verbal rendering of topography with the visual character of the Odyssey landscapes, pp. 27–72.
44. See Dawson, Romano-Campanian Mythological Landscape Painting, p. 160, on the differences between what he called the megalographic style and the landscape treatment of the Endymion fable.
45. See R. Turcan, Les sarcophages romains à representations dionysiaques (Paris, 1966), pp. 54 and 209, for the new vertical extension of the pictorial field on the sarcophagi of the Severan style; cf. J. M. C. Toynbee, Roman Medallions (New York, 1944), p. 153, on the compositional style of third-century medallions—a “veritable crowd” of figures and personifications.
46. I have in mind procedures similar to what Robert, Archeologische Hermeneutik, pp. 142f., termed “kompletives Verfahren”; cf. the comments of K. Weitzmann, Illustrations in Roll and Codex: A Study of the Origin and Method of Text Illustration (Princeton, 1947), pp. 33ff.
47. ASR XII.2, no. 93; Robert, in ASR III.1, no. 77, provides most of the identifications of the characters that follow.
48. For the youthful form of Hypnos, see n. 25 above; for the sculptural type to which this sarcophagus ultimately refers—that of the Villa Borghese Hypnos—see H. Schrader, Hypnos (Berlin, 1926).
49. See now P. Linant de Bellefonds, “Hyménaios: Une iconographie contestée,” MEFRA 103 (1991): esp. 210.
50. Cf. Turcan, “Les exégèses allégoriques des sarcophages ‘au Phaéton,’ ” p. 206, for this aspect of Severan style.
51. H. Lausberg, Handbuch der literarischen Rhetorik (Munich, 1960), I, pp. 220–224.
52. Cicero, De Partitione Oratoria, XV.52; cf. Rhetorica Ad Herennium, IV.28.38.
53. ASR XII.2, no. 51.
54. ASR XII.2, no. 80.
55. On the opposite side, below the other lion protome, are found the corresponding pair of Eros and Anteros.
56. Cf. Turcan, “Les sarcophages romains,” pp. 1715ff., on the presence of Cupid and Psyche on sarcophagi representing other myths; also Macchioro, “Il simbolismo,” pp. 46–47. On the formal character of such symbols, see G. Rodenwalt, “The Three Graces on a Fluted Sarcophagus,” JRS 28 (1938); idem, “Ein Typus römischer Sarkophage,” BJb 147 (1942); Brilliant, Visual Narratives, p. 153, on the similar appearance of the Fates on the Meleager sarcophagi; and see, further, the discussion in Chapter 8, below.
57. See Apuleius, Metamorphoses, VI.23, for Cupid and Psyche’s perpetuae nuptiae; cf. Turcan, “Les sarcophages romains,” p. 1716. For the use and significance of the phrase coniugio aeterno, see Cumont, Recherches sur le symbolisme funéraire des Romains, pp. 87, 247, and cf. Nock, “Sarcophagi and Symbolism,” p. 144 n. 21; for its reference to the Ariadne sarcophagi, see Lehmann-Hartleben and Olsen, Dionysiac Sarcophagi, pp. 40f. Cf. further the inscriptions that declare the deceased couple as in aeterno toro (e.g., CIL VI,11252; XI,1122).
58. ASR XII.2, no. 98.
59. The conjunction here may have its origin in astrological thought. For it was the planet Venus, identical with the evening star known by the Greeks as Hesperos, by the Romans as Vesperus, who every night led the moon across the sky. For Vesperus’s association with marriage, see A. Le Boeuffle, “Vénus, ‘étoile du soir,’ et les écrivains latins,” REL 40 (1962): 124. Venus also appeared at dawn, preceding the Sun: Cicero, De Natura Deorum, II.53. Cf. the late-antique ivory panel that depicts Aphrodite presiding over the scene of Selene’s rising over the sea in her biga—although Endymion is nowhere to be seen (see R. Brilliant, in Age of Spirituality [New York, 1979], p. 158, cat. no. 134).
60. Robert in ASR III.1, p. 102, citing Claudian, De raptu Proserpinae, III.562f., Musaeus, 282, and Nonnos, Dionysiaca, VII.295 and XLVII.330.
61. Selene appears similarly nubentis habitu below the portrait of a deceased woman on her clipeus sarcophagus, now in Sassari (Fig. 37), where the Endymion myth itself functioned as a symbol of eternal marriage; see ASR XII.2, no. 108.
62. The fragments are collected in E. Diez, “Luna und der ewige Schläfer: Das Giebelbild oberpannonischer Grabstelen,” ActaArchHung 41 (1989). Selene is clearly identified on the version in Savaria by her crescent moon; Fig. 38 is one of two examples in the Poetovio (Pettau-Ptuj) Museum; see, further, E. Diez, “Selene-Endymion auf pannonischen und norischen Grabdenkmälern,” ÖJh 46 (1961–63); Gabelmann, “Endymion,” nos. 86, 87, 87a, pp. 738–739; J. M. C. Toynbee, “Greek Myth in Roman Stone,” Latomus 36 (1977): 360.
63. P. Hommel, Studien zu den römischen Figurengiebeln der Kaiserzeit (Berlin, 1954), p. 8 and passim.
64. For other examples of the tympanum or pediment of similar architecturally based forms decorated with symbols of the celestial realm, see B. Andreae, Studien zur römischen Grabkunst (Heidelberg, 1963), pp. 69–74, on the gods in the pediments of the Velletri sarcophagus. See the catalogue entry by F. Taglietti in A. Giuliano, ed., Museo Nazionale Romano: Le Sculture (Rome, 1985), I/8 (1), pp. 65–68, on the sepulchral aedicula of Attia Iucunda, a bust of whom is carried aloft by erotes in its tympanum. For portraits of the dead in the gables of sarcophagus lids from Roman Syria, see G. Koch, “Sarkophage im römischen Syrien,” AA (1977), figs. 64–67; for related imagery in the pediments of cinerary urns, see W. Altmann, Die römischen Grabaltäre der Kaiserzeit (Berlin, 1905), p. 99 (cat. no. 81, fig. 83), with the eagle symbolizing apotheosis; F. Sinn, Stadtrömische Marmorurnen (Mainz, 1987), p. 245 (cat. no. 634, plate 93b), for a sleeping nymph over whom an eros hovers with a torch; and for portraits of the deceased, borne aloft on shells (often by putti), cat. no. 299 (plate 53), no. 378 (plate 60), no. 382 (plate 61), no. 385 (plate 62), and no. 406 (plate 63).
65. On this topos see Lattimore, Themes in Greek and Latin Epitaphs, pp. 65–74; cf. Lucretius’s use of the idea (III.887–893) and the comments of Cumont, After Life, pp. 45f. For the Savaria relief, see the articles by Diez cited in n. 62, above.
66. Plutarch, Amatorius [= Moralia, 766C]. Cf. Seneca’s De Consolatione ad Marciam, XXV.2, where he advises her: “So, Marcia, comport yourself as though under the eyes of your father and your son—not as you knew them, but as now, so much more sublime and in the heavens”; cf. Dio Cassius, Historia Romana, LXIX.11. 3–4, for the legend of Hadrian’s recognition of Antinous among the stars; and Ovid, Metamorphoses, XV.749, for Caesar “in sidus vertere novum stellamque comantem.” For further discussion of this translatio ad caelum, see Wrede, Consecratio, pp. 123–124.
67. Endymion is said, however, to have been a hunter in Scholia in Theocritum, III.49–51 (cited by Gabelmann, “Endymion,” p. 727); cf. further the allusion in Lucian, Dialogi Deorum, XIX (11).
68. On the two Selene and Endymion sarcophagi in New York (Figs. 35 and 40) are seen clear examples of each type.
69. Yet cf. ASR XII.2, nos. 69 and 73, where two shepherds appear. J. Bayet, “Idéologie et Plastique, III: Les sarcophages chrétiens à ‘grandes pastorales,” ’ MEFRA 74 (1962): 173f., follows Gerke, Die christlichen Sarkophage, pp. 35 and 106, who suggested that the figure of the shepherd migrated from the end panels (where it is found on the earlier sarcophagi) to the front.
A bucolic vignette, based on the motif of the shepherd, is in fact the scene depicted most frequently on the ends of the Endymion sarcophagi: most often he is represented as young and standing, although at times he is shown seated—either awake, at rest, or asleep—and sometimes he is shown as an older man. Other reliefs display more conventional symbolic imagery: the figures of Oceanus and the Wind appear on one example (ASR XII.2, no. 93) and thus augment the cosmic imagery found on the front panel; griffins, just as on the Adonis sarcophagi, are found on many examples (ASR XII.2, nos. 27, 34, 48–50, 56, 63, 69—for whose significance see Delplace, Le Griffon); on one example an emblem of crossed shields and swords appears (no. 102); and on one is found a scene of two money changers, most likely an allusion to the occupation of the deceased (no. 82; cf. Wrede, Consecratio, pp. 62, 88, 93ff., on such allusions to the patron’s occupation; and for the money-changing scene, see now R. Amedick, Die Sarkophage mit Darstellungen aus dem Menschleben: Vita Privata [= ASR I.4; Berlin, 1991], no. 172). For the appearance on the end panels of Selene’s departure, see n. 35 above.
70. Cf. Himmelmann, “Sarcofagi romani a rilievo,” p. 162, who contends the motif is part of the myth’s setting.
71. Cf. the marble relief now in Munich: see A. Greifenhagen, “Zum Saturnglauben der Renaissance,” Die Antike 11 (1935), fig. 16; H. von Hesberg, “Das Münchner Bauernrelief,” MüJb 37 (1986): 20 and fig. 23; A. Adriani, Divigazioni intorno ad una coppa paesistica del Museo di Allesandria (Rome, 1959); and also cf. the relief now in St. Louis, published in C. C. Vermeule, Greek and Roman Sculpture in America (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1981), p. 234, cat. no. 195.
72. Silberberg-Pierce, “Politics and Private Imagery,” pp. 244–249.
73. Varro, Res Rusticae, II.1.9.
74. Aeneid, VI.637–639. On the literary precedents for Vergil’s characterization of Elysium, see T. G. Rosenmeyer, The Green Cabinet: Theocritus and The European Pastoral Lyric (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1969), chapter 9 (“The Pleasance”), pp. 179–205.
75. Cf. W. Schumacher, Hirt und “Guter Hirt” (Rome, Freiburg, Vienna, 1977), pp. 155–158.
76. Cf. J. Hubaux, Les thèmes bucoliques dans la poésie latine (Brussels, 1930), p. 242: “On pourrait s’étonner que, sous le règne d’Hadrien, la Bucolique n’ait point reparu.” The pastoral genre makes only the slightest appearance in the surveys of D. A. Russell, Antonine Literature (Cambridge, 1990), or D. Romano, Letteratura e storia nell’età tardoromana (Palermo, 1979). The most noteworthy exceptions are the Cynegeticus of Nemesianus and the Eclogues of Calpurnius Siculus and of Ausonius. The latter have little in common thematically with the Theocritan tradition, and the Cynegeticus is closer to the Georgica of Vergil. See, however, E. Champlin, “The Life and Times of Calpurnius Siculus,” JRS 68 (1978): 109–110, who redates the Eclogues to the 230s and suggests a continuous bucolic tradition from Vergil to Nemesianus; cf., further, E. Kegel-Brinkgreve, The Echoing Woods: Bucolic and Pastoral from Theocritus to Wordsworth (Leiden, 1990), esp. chapter IV, “The Bucolic Genre after Virgil”; for the rise of Christian pastoral, see Hubaux, Les thèmes bucoliques, pp. 248–253.
77. See the catalogue entry by R. Belli in Giuliano, ed., Museo Nazionale Romano: Le Sculture, I/8 (1), pp. 154–157, for this sarcophagus (ca. 250–300). For a similar example in Pisa, see P. E. Arias et al., Camposanto Monumentale di Pisa: Le Antichità, I (Pisa, 1977), pp. 148–149 and figs. 189–190. Cf., further, Engemann, Untersuchungen zur Sepulkralsymbolik, p. 74, and Schumacher, Hirt und “Guter Hirt,” pp. 168–173, for the shepherd motif as a symbolic allusion to the happy life of the deceased in the beyond.
78. Cf. the discussion of this phenomenon in Turcan, “Déformation des modèles,” pp. 439–440.
79. Naples, Museo Nazionale, Inv. 6719. See Robert, in ASR III.3, no. 236¹, p. 573; G. Koch, “Zum Eberjagdsarkophag der Sammlung Ludwig,” AA (1974): 615–618 and fig. 1; idem, in Die mythologischen Sarkophage: Meleager [= ASR VI], p. 102; B. Andreae, Die Sarkophage mit Darstellungen aus dem Menschleben: Die römischen Jagdsarkophage [= ASR, I.2] (Berlin, 1980), no. 56 and plate 89.
80. Cf. the remarks on the “demythologization” of motifs derived from the repertories of mythological sarcophagi in Gerke, Die christliche Sarkophage, pp. 120ff. and the comments of Engemann, Untersuchungen zur Sepulkralsymbolik, pp. 30f. For related imagery on the sarcophagi see H. Gabelmann, “Vita activa und contemplativa auf einem Mailänder Sarkophag,” MarbWPr (1984).
81. On the significance of the Pisa sarcophagus and its relationship to Vergil (Georgica, II.458), see Himmelmann, “Sarcofagi romani a rilievo,” pp. 156–158; cf. Arias, et al., Camposanto, pp. 53–54. Cf., further, the discussion of the shepherd’s symbolic role on the Velletri sarcophagus, where he appears as the counterpart to a scene of sacrifice: see Andreae, Studien zur römische Grabkunst, pp. 65–66, following Th. Klauser, “Studien zur Entstehungsgeschichte der christlichen Kunst, I” in JbAChr 1 (1958): 31, and “II” in JbAChr 3 (1960): 112ff.
82. For the “Rinuccini sarcophagus,” see the engraving reproduced in ASR III.1, p. 7, taken from A. F. Gori, Inscriptiones antiquae Graecae et Romanae (1743), III, p. 24. The sarcophagus reappeared in 1985, when it was published and sold by Sotheby’s, New York. A short notice by W. D. Heilmeyer, “Der Sarkophag Rinuccini: Neuerwerbung für des Antikenmuseum,” JbPreussKul 24 (1987), heralded its arrival in Germany; for a substantial account see now P. Blome, “Die Sarkophag Rinuccini: Eine unverhafte Wiederentdeckung,” JbBerlMus 32 (1990); and, most recently, idem, “Funerärsymbolische Collagen,” esp. 1069–1072; R. Brilliant, “Roman Myth/Greek Myth: Reciprocity and Appropriation on a Roman Sarcophagus in Berlin,” StItFilCl 85 (1992).
83. Cf. now the similar conclusions of Brilliant, “Roman Myth / Greek Myth,” esp. 1033; Blome, “Funerärsymbolische Collagen,” esp. 1070. For a parallel to the “Rinuccini sarcophagus,” cf. the related appearance of Mars and Rhea Silvia on a vita umana sarcophagus found recently at Grottaperfetta: see Archeologia a Roma: La materia e la technica nell’arte antica (Rome, 1990), no. 67, pp. 89–92 (A. Bedini).
84. On parataxis, see van Groningen, La composition littéraire grecque, pp. 29–33; J. Notopoulos, “Parataxis in Homer: A New Approach to Homeric Literary Criticism,” TAPA 80 (1949); B. E. Perry, “The Early Greek Capacity for Viewing Things Separately,” TAPA 68 (1937); and E. Auerbach, Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Art, trans. W. R. Trask (Princeton, 1974), pp. 101f. and 99ff.
85. See the entry by M. Sapelli, in Giuliano, ed., Museo Nazionale Romano: Le Sculture, I/1, pp. 312–315, no. 187; Helbig[4] III (1969), no. 2319 (B. Andreae); the remarks quoted are from Pelikan, Vom antiken Realismus, p. 131, cited in both of these commentaries on the sarcophagus.
86. On the effect of paratactic compositions in the visual arts (with respect to Greek vase painting and pedimental sculpture), see Notopoulos, “Parataxis in Homer,” pp. 11–13, and the comments by Perry, “Viewing Things Separately.”
87. Plutarch, Numa, IV.1–2 (trans. B. Perrin, in LCL ed. of Vitae [London and Cambridge, 1914–27].