Hostname: page-component-74656f9884-rdgjk Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2026-11-07T03:57:53.308Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false
  • English
  • Français

AGATHOS DAIMÔN IN CHARITON'S CHAEREAS AND CALLIRHOE (5.1.6, 5.7.10): SOME RAMIFICATIONS

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  13 February 2019

Daniel Jolowicz
Daniel Jolowicz*
Affiliation:
Clare Hall, Cambridge
*
dj334@cam.ac.uk
Rights & Permissions [Opens in a new window]

Extract

In this article I make three interrelated claims about Chariton's use of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων in connection with the protagonist Chaereas, who is believed to be dead. First, that it reflects a funerary formula peculiar to inscriptions from Caria, and therefore potentially supports the author's declaration to be a native of Aphrodisias in Caria; second, that the use of this funerary formula suggests an awareness of events subsequent to the death of Nero (especially the series of false Neros), which has ramifications for the novel's date, use of imperial history, and ideological thrust; and third, that numismatic evidence from Alexandria supports an association between Chaereas and Nero.

Information

Type
Research Article
Information
The Classical Quarterly , Volume 68 , Issue 2 , December 2018 , pp. 591 - 602
Copyright
Copyright © The Classical Association 2019 

In this article I make three interrelated claims about Chariton's use of ἀγαθὸς δαίμωνFootnote 1 in connection with the protagonist Chaereas, who is believed to be dead. First, that it reflects a funerary formula peculiar to inscriptions from Caria, and therefore potentially supports the author's declaration to be a native of Aphrodisias in Caria;Footnote 2 second, that the use of this funerary formula suggests an awareness of events subsequent to the death of Nero (especially the series of false Neros), which has ramifications for the novel's date, use of imperial history, and ideological thrust; and third, that numismatic evidence from Alexandria supports an association between Chaereas and Nero.

1. AGATHOS DAIMÔN IN CHARITON AND THE INSCRIPTIONAL RECORD

The novel features two instances of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων, both in the fifth book.Footnote 3 I quote them in full here:

(i) ὑπὲρ τὸν Εὐφράτην ἀπάγομαι καὶ βαρβάροις ἐγκλείομαι μυχοῖς ἡ νησιῶτις, ὅπου μηκέτι θάλασσα. ποίαν ἔτ’ ἐλπίσω ναῦν ἐκ Σικελίας καταπλέουσαν; ἀποσπῶμαι καὶ τοῦ σοῦ τάφου, Χαιρέα. τίς ἐπενέγκῃ σοι χοάς, δαῖμον ἀγαθέ; Βάκτρα μοι καὶ Σοῦσα λοιπὸν οἶκος καὶ τάφος. ἅπαξ, Εὐφρᾶτα, μέλλω σε διαβαίνειν· (5.1.6–7)

I'm being taken beyond the Euphrates and, though a girl from an island, I'm being imprisoned in the furthest reaches of barbarian lands where the sea does not extend. Now what sort of ship am I to hope will come sailing from Sicily? I'm also being torn away from your tomb, Chaireas. Who is supposed to pour out libations for you, my dear departed? Bactra and Sousa, that's where I'll live from now on and die. I'll cross you just once, Euphrates.Footnote 4

(ii) ἔνθεν ἑλὼν ὁ Μιθριδάτης φωνὴν ἐπῆρε καὶ ὥσπερ ἐπὶ θειασμοῦ ‘θεοὶ’ φησὶ ‘βασίλειοι ἐπουράνιοί τε καὶ ὑποχθόνιοι, βοηθήσατε ἀνδρὶ ἀγαθῷ, πολλάκις ὑμῖν εὐξαμένῳ δικαίως καὶ θύσαντι μεγαλοπρεπῶς· ἀπόδοτέ μοι τὴν ἀμοιβὴν τῆς εὐσεβείας συκοφαντουμένῳ· χρήσατέ μοι κἂν εἰς τὴν δίκην Χαιρέαν. φάνηθι, δαῖμον ἀγαθέ· καλεῖ σε ἡ σὴ Καλλιρόη·’ (5.7.10)

Picking up from there, Mithridates raised his voice and, as though receiving divine inspiration, said, ‘Gods of the royal house, both above and below the earth, aid a goodly man who has many times prayed righteously and sacrificed lavishly to you! Render unto me the deserts of my piety now that I am falsely accused. Lend me the use of Chaireas, even if only for this trial. Appear, dearly departed spirit! Your Callirhoe calls you!’

In passage (i), Callirhoe is being taken by Dionysius of Miletus to the Persian king Artaxerxes in Babylon; on reaching the river Euphrates, she apostrophizes Chaereas, whom she presumes dead, addressing him in the vocative δαῖμον ἀγαθέ. In passage (ii), the trial scene in Babylon between Dionysius and the Carian satrap Mithridates has reached its climax; Mithridates affects to summon up the ‘dead’ Chaereas, whom he knows to be alive and has choreographed to appear at this pivotal moment, again addressing him in the vocative δαῖμον ἀγαθέ.

‘Demonology’ has a long and complex history in Greek belief and thought.Footnote 5 For Hesiod (Op. 121–6) a δαίμων is the soul of the deceased and an enforcer of justice; in Plato (and the subsequent Platonic Academy that systematized the doctrine) δαίμονες are souls of great humans who now function as intermediaries between mortals and gods and whose status qualifies them for a range of religious responsibilities and offices.Footnote 6 Of the δαίμονες, the only one to be honoured with a traditional cult was ἀγαθὸς δαίμων.Footnote 7 Greek comedy especially depicts ἀγαθὸς δαίμων in a private libational context, and as the recipient of the first libation in his capacity as the discoverer of wine.Footnote 8 In his capacity as genius loci he is invoked all over the Mediterranean world,Footnote 9 and is frequently paired with ἀγαθὴ τύχη in the context of private worship and domestic protection.Footnote 10

The household ἀγαθὸς δαίμων came to develop further associations that I suggest are relevant to our novel. I have so far discussed his cult in the singular, but there is also a distinct phenomenon of plural δαίμονες ἀγαθοί. These are associated with deceased humans, and appear in a number of funerary inscriptions bearing the formula δαιμόνων ἀγαθῶν.Footnote 11 Significant for our purpose is that almost all emanate from Carian cities in Asia Minor.Footnote 12 A PHI Epigraphy search yields three from Iasos and thirty-four from Mylasa (many of which can be securely dated to the Imperial period).Footnote 13 These figures, along with their restriction to specifically Carian cities, have led several scholars to conclude that this epitaphic formula existed solely in Caria, perhaps being peculiar to Iasos and Mylasa.Footnote 14 These funerary spirits also bear an obvious resemblance to the Di Manes, the Roman spirits of the dead who feature on Latin epitaphs via the formula Dis Manibus, and who can carry the epithet boni.Footnote 15 Indeed, in the context of the ‘dead’ Chaereas scholars have commented on the resemblance between the Roman Di Manes and Chariton's use of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων, in connection with the funerary function of both.Footnote 16

One question that emerges from this survey is what, if anything, the data can tell us about Χαρίτων Ἀφροδισιεύς. Adducing the examples from Chariton, several scholars have remarked on the geographical specificity of the funereal ἀγαθοὶ δαίμονες to Caria, but this is as far as the discussion goes.Footnote 17 Nobody, however, has mentioned the fact that there is no trace of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων in Aphrodisias.Footnote 18 Considering the impressive haul of inscriptional evidence yielded by the city so far (including a large number of funerary inscriptions), it is unlikely that this is down to chance; rather, it seems that our author is aware of an epitaphic convention specific to Iasos and (especially) Mylasa, which are c.110 km and 93 km from Aphrodisias respectively. In the opening sentence of the novel Chariton characterizes himself as a citizen of Aphrodisias (via the civic ethnic Ἀφροδισιεύς).Footnote 19 Without further contextual information we cannot know how he came by his citizenship, but, considering his clerical status as a ὑπογραφεύς, it is unlikely that it was an honour bestowed upon him by the city;Footnote 20 rather, it was more likely hereditary via his father. One conclusion is, therefore, that Chariton was well-travelled in that part of Caria, and was somehow familiar with epitaphic convention at Iasos or Mylasa.Footnote 21 It is also worth remarking in this connection that the marble tomb-monument for C. Julius Zoilus in Aphrodisias employs similar roofing techniques to that of a temple-tomb in Mylasa.Footnote 22 In terms of funereal practice, then, there was clearly traffic between Carian cities such as Aphrodisias and Mylasa.

Moving from the author to his characters, one ramification of Chariton's use of this epitaphic formula is that he is bringing to bear geographically specific knowledge for the purposes of characterization. In passage (i), Callirhoe's apostrophe to Chaereas is explicitly funerary: she says that she has been dragged from his tomb (ἀποσπῶμαι καὶ τοῦ σοῦ τάφου), over which she worries that there will be nobody to pour libations (τίς ἐπενέγκῃ σοι χοάς),Footnote 23 before addressing him as δαῖμον ἀγαθέ. To be sure, Callirhoe is not a native of Caria: perhaps her lexical choice is an effect of narratorial metalepsis (that is, a blurring of the voices of character and narrator), or alternatively it might be the case that she has become acquainted with local funereal practice during her time in southwest Asia Minor. She has, after all, been involved in the construction of a tomb for Chaereas in Miletus (4.1.6), and Mithridates (who, we know, is aware of the formula) is present at the funeral (4.1.7, 8.8.3). In passage (ii), Mithridates’ use of local funereal terminology needs no special pleading. He is the governor of Caria with an estate there (3.7.3, 4.1.7, 4.1.9, 4.5.8, 8.8.2, etc.), and presumably knows the local customs well. Moreover, the Persian name Mithridates (or Mithradates/Mithrodates) is attested in Carian cities such as Aphrodisias, Tabai and Tralles.Footnote 24

The local reader might even be given to speculate on where exactly Mithridates’ Carian estate is. Plepelits canvasses Aphrodisias, as does Bowie, who argues that readers would ‘feel a twinge of campanilismo when Mithridates, satrap of Caria, is given a major role in the story’.Footnote 25 Given the epigraphic data I have put forward for Iasos and Mylasa, however, one of these two cities might be a preferable option. Both are far closer to Miletus (37 km and 50 km respectively; Aphrodisias is 130 km from Miletus), from where Chaereas and Polycharmus are captured and sold to be put to work on Mithridates’ estate (3.7.3).Footnote 26 Whatever Carian city we choose as the location of Mithridates’ estate, what is certain is that his use of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων constitutes a subtle means of characterizing him as an inhabitant of Caria.Footnote 27 The local colouring also contributes to the assumption (likely, in my opinion) that Aphrodisias was a hub for early novelistic composition (including Chariton, Antonius Diogenes and the Ninus author).Footnote 28

2. CHAEREAS AND THE FALSE NEROS

Scholarship has recognized that vestiges of Nero may lurk behind the character of Chaereas. Tricked into believing that his wife has been carrying on an affair in his absence, Chaereas kicks his pregnant wife in the belly (1.4.12), setting in train Callirhoe's ‘false death’ and the events that follow. To be sure, the kicking of a pregnant wife is an established topos in the context of literature about tyrants,Footnote 29 but this episode of the novel would have struck a chord with any reader familiar with Nero's analogous (and albeit potentially fictional) treatment of Poppaea Sabina in 65 c.e.Footnote 30 Parallels have likewise been detected between Nero and the eponymous protagonist of the so-called Ninus romance.Footnote 31 Historical events and associated discourses emerging from the imperial centre no doubt provided valuable raw material to be pressed into the service of narrative fiction.

Chariton's use of the specifically Carian epitaphic formula also contributes to Chaereas’ status in the plot as apparently dead.Footnote 32 But it is curious that this (and the theme of Scheintod more generally)Footnote 33 has not been explored in the context of Nero's own slippery status between alive and dead. There are of course alternative intertextual scenarios that could partially account for Chaereas’ apparent death. Greek New Comedy, for example, includes the motif of Scheintod as a plot device,Footnote 34 and Scheintod and resurrection (especially in connection with the Jesus narratives) are popular themes in fiction from the Neronian period onwards.Footnote 35 Nor can we exclude the possibility that earlier or parallel novelistic traditions mobilize the theme within their plots. But I would like to suggest the possibility of a specific link between Chaereas and the series of ‘false Nero’ stories attaching to the emperor. It is generally agreed that there were three of them: in 69 c.e. in Greece and Ionia a man impersonating Nero, variously identified as a slave from Pontus or a freedman from Italy, attempted to drum up support for a revolution (Tac. Hist. 2.8–9; Dio-Xiphilinus 64[63].9.3); some time during Titus’ reign (79–81 c.e.) an Asiatic Greek named Terentius Maximus gained support on his way to the Euphrates and took up with Artabanes IV, a pretender to the Parthian throne (Dio Cass. 66.19.3b–c = Zonar. 11.18); and in 88 c.e. a man claiming to be Nero again took up with the Parthians, only to be handed back to the Romans (Suet. Ner. 57; Tac. Hist. 1.2).Footnote 36 These rumours enjoyed an afterlife among the Greek elite in the decades that followed: Dio Chrysostom claims that ‘even now his subjects wish he were still alive, and most believe that he is’ (Or. 21.10); and in the second century Lucian refers to the false Nero of a previous age (Ind. 20).Footnote 37

Both Nero and the ἀγαθὸς δαίμων Chaereas tread the ontologically liminal line between the states of living and dead. Chaereas is believed to be dead but returns to life, whilst Nero is actually dead but believed to have returned to life. Furthermore, when Callirhoe refers to Chaereas as ἀγαθὸς δαίμων, she does so specifically at the river Euphrates: ὑπὲρ τὸν Εὐφράτην ἀπάγομαι … τίς ἐπενέγκῃ σοι χοάς, δαῖμον ἀγαθέ; … ἅπαξ, Εὐφρᾶτα, μέλλω σε διαβαίνειν (5.1.6–7). This is significant for two reasons: first, the second false Nero is said to have travelled over the Euphrates to Parthia;Footnote 38 and second (as argued by Daude), Callirhoe's crossing of the Euphrates can potentially be read as her transposition over the river Acheron into the land of the dead, which suggests that the river functions as a threshold between the living and the dead.Footnote 39 A ‘dead’ Chaereas coming to life in Persia therefore strikes a remarkable resemblance to at least the second and third false Neros.Footnote 40

If we accept that Chariton is layering the character of Chaereas with elements drawn from the biography of Nero,Footnote 41 then this has implications for our dating of Chariton's novel.Footnote 42 In the first instance, it enforces a post-Neronian date. A ‘strong’ version of the conclusion might suggest that Chariton's allusions to historical events—via a not-quite-so-dead Chaereas—are contemporary and topical: if so, then this indicates a date in the 70s or 80s c.e., that is, the decades during which rumours of Nero's return from the dead were most rampant. A ‘softer’ conclusion, however, has to take into account that Greeks in the East were still talking about such rumours well into the second century (Dio Chrys. Or. 21.10; Lucian, Ind. 20). On this basis we can therefore do no more than offer a terminus post quem of the death of Nero in 68 c.e.

It is possible that there are ideological ramifications to an identification of Chaereas with a falsely dead Nero. Champlin describes these rumours as ‘an echo of collective thoughts, emotions, and memories, which are not always those shared and circulated by the dominant political and intellectual elite, but which may be no less valid’.Footnote 43 The point here is that the act of propagating a rumour that a previous emperor is alive undercuts the legitimacy and security of the current emperor. If Chariton is subtly plugging into a (potentially contemporary) subversive discourse, then we can fairly wonder why this might be the case. A possible solution to the question resides in Nero's liberation of Achaea at Corinth in 67 c.e., replaying that of Flaminius in 196 b.c.e.Footnote 44 It was an act that resonated favourably with the Greek world: Plutarch records how the dead Nero was about to be returned to the world of the living as a viper, but that a voice interceded to the effect that he should be returned as a (less offensive) frog, thanks to his liberation of Greece (De sera 567F–568A); Pausanias regards Nero's act of liberation as evidence of a ‘noble soul’ otherwise ruined by a ‘perverted education’ (7.17.3); and Philostratus likewise sees the act in a favourable light, in contrast to the rest of Nero's character (V A 5.41.1). The material evidence is also plentiful. The town of Acraephia issued a sycophantic decree thanking Nero, found on a marble pillar in Boeotia (ILS 8794);Footnote 45 and the Roman colonies of Corinth and Patras, as well as the city of Sicyon, issued coins commemorating the event.Footnote 46 The liberation was, however, short-lived. After Nero's death, Vespasian rescinded the act and repackaged Achaea as a senatorial province, quipping that the ‘Greeks had forgotten how to be free’ (Paus. 7.17.3–4; cf. Suet. Vesp. 8.4; Philostr. V A 5.41.1).

The philhellenic Nero was in fact popular amongst the eastern Greeks, especially with the advent of the Flavians. In Tuplin's words, there would have been ‘a wish for the return of the real Nero amongst those who felt otherwise aggrieved’ by the subsequent dynasty.Footnote 47 A return of Nero would mean the restoration of freedom revoked by Vespasian.Footnote 48 The new emperor would not have been popular: he reduced Achaea to the status of a province and revoked its privileges (as well as those of Rhodes, Samos, Byzantium and perhaps Lycia);Footnote 49 he collapsed Cappadocia, Galatia and Armenia Minor into a consular province; and perhaps dissolved the large koinon on the Greek mainland.Footnote 50 Levick describes how ‘Vespasian himself had no special liking for Greeks’ and that ‘anti-Roman feeling in the eastern half of the Empire came to a climax during his reign’.Footnote 51 Plutarch, for example, was deeply hostile to that emperor (Amat. 771C).Footnote 52 To add insult to injury, Vespasian pursued a numismatic programme of denigration of Nero.Footnote 53 Archaeological evidence from Aphrodisias is instructive. The city's Sebasteion features two reliefs of Nero in which the portrait heads remain untouched.Footnote 54 This suggests that, in Aphrodisias at least, a ‘minimalist posture’ was adopted with regard to Flavian policy towards the memory of Nero.Footnote 55 This is not surprising considering that Julio-Claudian patronage had been so prevalent in Aphrodisias, and there would have been strong support in the city for that dynasty.Footnote 56

So, if Chaereas’ apparent death and return to life designedly recall Nero and his false avatars, then one might suspect that the author is writing in the Vespasianic period following that emperor's decision to rescind the freedom of Achaea. It might be contested that Chariton is from (or affects to be from) Aphrodisias in Carian Asia Minor, and that his narrative has decentred Athens and Achaea at large,Footnote 57 but this does not change the fact that Nero's liberation of Achaea and Vespasian's subsequent ‘enslavement of Hellas’ (Philostr. V A 5.41.1) would have resonated throughout the Greek world. Displaced into a fictional mode, the return of Nero from the dead would have offered Greek elite readership a pleasurable snapshot of an alternative reality in which Nero could once again proclaim the Greeks to be free.

3. NERO AND THE ALEXANDRIAN AGATHOS DAIMÔN

There are further reasons prompting a reader to link Chaereas, rendered dead via the epitaphic connotations of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων, with Nero specifically. The cult of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων developed a special status early on in the city of Alexandria (especially in his anguiform incarnation).Footnote 58 As a guardian at the domestic and civic levels he is closely associated with Alexander's foundation of the city (Ps.-Callisthenes, Alexander Romance 1.32.5–13), and is also identified with Sarapis and Shaï.Footnote 59 Because of his role as a protective agency, in the Imperial period he comes to be identified with the Roman emperors, specifically the Emperor Nero.

Nero maintained excellent relations with the Alexandrian Greeks: he planned trips to Egypt twice, and before his death he was preparing to travel there.Footnote 60 It was no doubt his popularity in Alexandria, as well as his status as Roman emperor, that earned him assimilation to the Alexandrian ἀγαθὸς δαίμων, an association to which papyrological, inscriptional and numismatic evidence explicitly attests. P.Oxy. 1021 (dated 17 October 54 c.e.) records a notification of the death of Claudius and the accession of Nero, in which Nero is hailed as ὁ ἀγαθὸς δαίμων τῆς οἰκουμένης (lines 8–10).Footnote 61 This precise designation is echoed in OGIS 2.666,Footnote 62 an inscription from Memphis recording honours for the prefect Ti. Claudius Balbillus (Tiberius’ first prefect of Egypt, 55–9 c.e.; cf. Tac. Ann. 13.22), in which Nero is again referred to as ὁ ἀγαθὸς δαίμων τῆς οἰκουμένης (lines 3–4). To this we can add a series of Neronian coins from Alexandria dating to the second half of the fifties c.e., which feature on their obverse the legend ΝΕΟ. ΑΓΑΘ. ΔΑΙΜ. (= νέος ἀγαθὸς δαίμων) accompanied by the anguiform incarnation of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων.Footnote 63 Couvalis suggests that the later of the Neronian ἀγαθὸς δαίμων coins from Alexandria—the only city not directly affected by the proclamation to have commemorated it numismatically—are a conscientious and sycophantic response by the governor Ti. Julius Alexander to Nero's liberation of Achaea.Footnote 64 There are in addition two Alexandrian coins dating to the end of Nero's reign depicting on their obverse the Agathodaimon snake, though omitting the legend.Footnote 65 This is not to say that other emperors were not aligned with the Egyptian ἀγαθὸς δαίμων on coinage from Alexandria: the Agathodaimon snake appears on the obverse of a number of Domitianic, Nervan, Trajanic and Hadrianic coins, and is fashionable in the Antonine period.Footnote 66 But Nero is the only emperor (in the period relevant to us)Footnote 67 who is explicitly designated ἀγαθὸς δαίμων in the papyrological, inscriptional or numismatic traditions (as well as being the first emperor identified thus). Chariton's Egyptian readership at the very least would have been familiar with these identifications;Footnote 68 and a readership familiar with both the Carian convention and the Alexandrian usage would have appreciated the blend of both death (qua epitaphic δαίμων) and life (qua Nero) inscribed into Chaereas as ἀγαθὸς δαίμων.Footnote 69

4. CONCLUDING REMARKS

Chariton's use of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων requires explanation. First, I have argued that it can be activated in the context of the specifically Carian funerary cult attested epigraphically by the formula δαιμόνων ἀγαθῶν, which occurs predominantly at Iasos and Mylasa. Not only does this make sense in the context of its use in the novel—Chaereas is believed to be dead—but it also betrays localized knowledge on the part of the author, and perhaps corroborates his claim to be from Carian Aphrodisias. I have also suggested that Chariton's characterization of Chaereas as ἀγαθὸς δαίμων may allude to a period of time in which rumours were circulating that the dead Nero was not in fact dead;Footnote 70 the subversive potential of this allusion could indicate that the novelist was writing during a period in which Vespasian's decision to rescind Nero's liberation of Achaea still rankled. Finally, I have sought to strengthen the connections between Nero and Chaereas qua ἀγαθὸς δαίμων by adducing the Alexandrian evidence of Nero's characterization as such.

Footnotes

I would like to extend my gratitude to Ewen Bowie and Richard Hunter, who read and commented on drafts of this piece. I would also like to thank Joyce Reynolds for discussing Aphrodisias with me, and Graham Andrews for assisting me with Dio Cassius. CQ’s anonymous reader provided me with many points for consideration, for which I am extremely grateful.

References

1 For the sake of consistency I do not capitalize the initials.

2 Χαρίτων Ἀφροδισιεύς, Ἀθηναγόρου τοῦ ῥήτορος ὑπογραφεύς, πάθος ἐρωτικὸν ἐν Συρακούσαις γενόμενον διηγήσομαι (1.1.1). For the hypothesis that ‘Chariton of Aphrodisias’ might be a pseudonymous invention appropriate for an erotic novelist, see Rohde, E., Der griechische Roman und seine Vorläufer (Leipzig, 1914 3 [1876]), 520 n. 2Google Scholar.

3 The only other novelist to contain a combination of δαίμων and ἀγαθός is Achilles Tatius (δαίμων τις ἀγαθός, 3.5.1; δαίμων δέ τις ἀγαθός, 3.20.2), for whom it has the sense of ‘beneficent personal guardian’, i.e. ‘a stroke of good luck’, on which see the fundamental article by Ganschinietz, R., ‘Agathodaimon’, RE Suppl. III (Stuttgart, 1918), 37–59, at 40Google Scholar. Yatromanolakis, Y., Leukippē kai Kleitophōn: Eisagōgē, Metaphrasē, Scholia (Athens, 1990), 638Google Scholar, on Ach. Tat. 3.20.2, explains it as a function of narrative convenience, citing Hägg, T., Narrative Technique in Ancient Greek Romance: Studies of Chariton, Xenophon Ephesius, and Achilles Tatius (Stockholm, 1971), 237Google Scholar. Alperowitz, M., Das Wirken und Walten der Götter im griechischen Roman (Heidelberg, 1992), 67–72Google Scholar discusses the formulation δαίμων τις in the novels and concludes that it roughly overlaps with the concept of Tyche. For further discussion of divine apparatus in Chariton, see Weißenberger, M., ‘Der “Götterapparat” im Roman des Chariton’, in Picone, M. and Zimmermann, B. (edd.), Der antike Roman und seine mittelalterliche Rezeption (Basel and Boston, 1997), 49–73CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Baier, T., ‘Die Funktion der Götter bei Chariton’, WJA 23 (1999), 101–14Google Scholar.

4 The text is the Teubner edition of Reardon, B.P., Chariton Aphrodisiensis: De Callirhoe narrationes amatoriae (Munich, 2004)Google Scholar. The translation is that of Trzaskoma, S.M., Two Novels from Ancient Greece: Callirhoe and An Ephesian Story (Indianapolis and Cambridge, 2010)Google Scholar.

5 Key overviews on demonology include Nowak, H., Zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Begriffes Daimon. Eine Untersuchung epigraphischer Zeugnisse vom 5 Jh. v. Chr. bis zum 5. Jh. n. Chr. (Bonn, 1960)Google Scholar; Stramaglia, A., Res inauditae, incredulae: Storie di fantasmi nel mondo greco-latino (Bari, 1999), 16–21Google Scholar; Baltes, M., Johnston, S. and Habermehl, P., ‘Demonology’, BNP (Leiden and Boston, 2004), 275–9Google Scholar; Maul, S., Jansen-Winkeln, K., Niehr, H., Macuch, M. and Johnston, S., ‘Demons’, BNP (Leiden and Boston, 2004), 279–86Google Scholar. On demonology in the Imperial period, see Brenk, F.E., ‘In the light of the moon: demonology in the Early Imperial period’, ANRW 2.16.3 (1986), 2068–145Google Scholar.

6 e.g. Pl. Symp. 202d–e; Resp. 540b; Cra. 398b–c. The concept ultimately derives from the shadowy Socratic δαιμόνιον (Pl. Ap. 40a; Tht. 151a; Xen. Mem. 1.1.2; Plut. De gen.; Apul. De deo Soc.).

7 Key overviews on the ἀγαθὸς δαίμων include Ganschinietz (n. 3); Ganschinietz, R., De Agathodaemone (Warsaw, 1919)Google Scholar; Graf, F., ‘Agathos Daimon’, BNP (Leiden and Boston, 2002), 319Google Scholar.

8 e.g. Ar. Eq. 85; Vesp. 525; Pax 300. Ganschinietz (n. 7), 17–32 lists and discusses all known literary examples; cf. Tolles, D., The Banquet-Libations of the Greeks (Ann Arbor, 1943), 77–90Google Scholar. Sokolowski, F., Lois sacrées des cités grecques: Supplément (Paris, 1962), no. 68Google Scholar records the presence of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων in a small temple of Dionysus in fourth-century b.c.e. Thasos.

9 Plepelits, K. (ed.), Chariton von Aphrodisias: Kallirhoe (Stuttgart, 1976), 179Google Scholar and Montero, C. Ruiz, ‘Caritón de Afrodisias y el mundo real’, in Furiani, P. Liviabella and Scarcella, A.M. (edd.), Piccolo mondo antico: le donne, gli amori, i costumi, il mondo reale nel romanzo antico (Naples, 1989), 106–49, at 128Google Scholar suggest that Chariton exhibits awareness of the Roman genius loci when Mithridates says φοβοῦμαι καὶ τὴν Τύχην τοῦ τόπου (4.4.4).

10 Ganschinietz (n. 3), 42–3; id. (n. 7), 5–11; Robert, L., Hellenica 9 (Paris, 1950), 56–63Google Scholar. For epigraphically attested examples of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων in the context of private cult (with ἀγαθὴ τύχη), see Sokolowski, F., Lois sacrées de l'Asie Mineure (Paris, 1955), no. 20 line 10 and no. 72 lines 9, 35Google Scholar (with the discussion of Laumonier, A., Les cultes indigènes en Carie [Paris, 1958], 638–9)Google Scholar; Sokolowski, F., Lois sacrées des cités grecques (Paris, 1969), no. 134 lines 4–5Google Scholar. Laumonier, A., ‘Inscriptions de Carie’, BCH 58 (1934), 291–380, at 367–9CrossRefGoogle Scholar argues that, in this context, ἀγαθὸς δαίμων and ἀγαθὴ τύχη superintend over the living and the dead respectively. The two divinities share a sacred building in Lebadeia (Paus. 9.39.5), on which see Bonnechere, P., Trophonios de Lébadée. Cultes et mythes d'une cité béotienne au miroir de la mentalité antique (Leiden, 2003), 233–6Google Scholar.

11 There are three examples of funereal ἀγαθὸς δαίμων in the singular: one from Iasos (IIasos 370) and two from Mylasa (IMylasa 443, 472); though see Laumonier (n. 10 [1934]), 327 no. 11, for reservations about δαίμονος ἀγαθοῦ being in grammatical apposition to the deceased man in IMylasa 443 because of their separation by a sampi.

12 The exceptions are: two from Rhodes (A. Maiuri, ‘Nuove iscrizioni greche dalle Sporadi meridionali’, ASAA 2 [1916], 125–79, at 163 no. 99, undated; A. Maiuri [ed.], Nuova Silloge epigrafica di Rodi e Cos [Florence, 1925], 163, after the second century b.c.e.); and one from Cos (D. Bosnakis [ed.], Anekdotes epigraphes tēs Ko. Epitymvia mnēmeia kai hōroi [Athens, 2008], no. 186, second century c.e.). From Rhodes and Cos we also know of a cult of Ἀγαθοδαιμονισταί (one and three attestations respectively: G. Pugliese Carratelli, ‘Per la storia delle associazioni in Rodi antica’, ASAA 1–2 [1939–40], 147–200, at 151 no. 6; Bosnakis [this note], nos. 27–9), on which see Laumonier (n. 10 [1958]), 138–9.

13 Iasos: IIasos 397, 405, 408. Mylasa: IMylasa 428–9, 433, 436–7, 439, 442, 444, 446, 449, 450, 452–6, 458, 463–4, 470–1, 473–4, 477–80, 483–4, 487–9, 494–5. L. Robert, Opera Minora Selecta III (Amsterdam, 1970), 1513–15, 1519 discusses the inscriptions from Iasos. From nearby Olymos, which merged with Mylasa in sympoliteia in the third/second century b.c.e., we know of a public religious cult of ἀγαθοὶ δαίμονες and its priest Phaidros Moschonios (IMylasa 806, 808, 810–15, 819, 869–70), on which see Laumonier (n. 10 [1934]), 369.

14 Caria: Ganschinietz (n. 7), 14; Laumonier (n. 10 [1958]), 138–9, 142; Price, S.R.F., Rituals and Power: The Roman Imperial Cult in Asia Minor (Cambridge, 1984), 36Google Scholar. Iasos and Mylasa alone: Bean, G.E. and Cook, J.M., ‘The Carian coast III’, BSA 52 (1957), 58–146, at 105Google Scholar.

15 Ganschinietz (n. 7), 13; Ruiz Montero (n. 9), 128. Laumonier (n. 10 [1958]), 139 cautions against a direct equation of the formula δαίμονες ἀγαθοί with Di Manes, because the former is restricted to Caria (cf. the bilingual inscription CIG 4452 from Beroia where δαίμονες equate to Di Manes). On the generic resemblance more generally, see Lattimore, R., Themes in Greek and Latin Epitaphs (Urbana, IL, 1962), 95–6Google Scholar. On the Di Manes as boni, see Grenier, A., Le génie romain dans la religion, la pensée et l'art (Paris, 1925), 115–16Google Scholar; Lattimore (this note), 93. Austin, R.G. (ed.), P. Vergili Maronis Aeneidos Liber Sextus (Oxford, 1977), 227–9Google Scholar, on Verg. Aen. 6.743 remains an exemplary note.

16 Plepelits (n. 9), 179–80; Alperowitz (n. 3), 63 n. 3; Goold, G.P. (ed.), Chariton: Callirhoe (Cambridge, MA, 1995), 235Google Scholar.

17 Plepelits (n. 9), 179–80; Ganschinietz (n. 3), 46–7; Ruiz Montero (n. 9), 128, comparing (at n. 98) ὦ τάφε καὶ δαίμων in ISmyrna 549.7. Ganschinietz (n. 7), 14 adds the idea that Chariton has imported the Latin sense of Di Manes, but that he has rendered it singular in order to distinguish it from the Latin usage; though for the funereal usage epigraphically attested in the singular at Iasos and Mylasa, see n. 11 above.

18 The only appearances of δαίμων in Aphrodisias occur in (consolatory) decrees from the first and the early second centuries in which the honorand is described as having been taken ὑπὸ τοῦ δαίμονος (IAph2007 12.207.15, 12.319.10, 12.1015.4).

19 See Fraser, P.M., Greek Ethnic Terminology (Oxford, 2009), 75–101CrossRefGoogle Scholar, for the use of ethnics to denote citizenship, and 64, for ethnics in –εύς.

20 For Hunter, R.L., ‘History and historicity in the romance of Chariton’, ANRW 2.34.2 (1994), 1055–86, at 1069Google Scholar, with Müller, C.W., ‘Chariton von Aphrodisias und die Theorie des Romans in der Antike’, A&A 22 (1976), 115–36, at 124Google Scholar, Chariton's claim to be a ὑπογραφεύς lends the novel a historiographical authenticity. Youtie, H.C., ‘ΥΠΟΓΡΑΦΕΥΣ: the social impact of illiteracy in Graeco-Roman Egypt’, ZPE 17 (1975), 201–22Google Scholar discusses the role of the ὑπογραφεύς in terms of their literacy, as demonstrated in Graeco-Roman papyri.

21 Ewen Bowie has suggested to me per litteras the possibility that Chariton's mother came from Mylasa.

22 Smith, R.R.R., The Monument of C. Julius Zoilus (Mainz, 1993), 21Google Scholar, also noted by Cormack, S., The Space of Death in Roman Asia Minor (Vienna, 2004), 174Google Scholar, though the latter dates the structure in Mylasa to the reign of Hadrian. Cormack (this note), 228–30 also enumerates similarities between the crypt of the temple-tomb at Mylasa and a temple-tomb at Iasos.

23 There may well be a hint here of the libational aspects of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων, discussed above.

24 LGPN V.B s.v. ‘Mithradates’, ‘Mithridates’, ‘Mithrodates’. For the name in Aphrodisias in particular, see I. Bourtzinakou, Die Prosopographie von Aphrodisias (Diss., Heidelberg, 2012), nos. 1786–8, with the discussion by Tilg, S., Chariton of Aphrodisias and the Invention of the Greek Love Novel (Oxford, 2010), 55–7CrossRefGoogle Scholar. Tabai and Tralles are 35 km southeast and 77 km west of Aphrodisias respectively.

25 Plepelits (n. 9), 179, followed by Bowie, E.L., ‘The construction of the classical past in the ancient Greek novels’, in Eklund, S. (ed.), Syncharmata. Studies in Honour of Jan Fredrik Kindstrand (Uppsala, 2006), 1–20, at 5Google Scholar, who also argues that ‘the recurrent intrusions of the authorial person in the narrative remind the reader that all this is being told by a man from early imperial Aphrodisias’. Plepelits (n. 9), 3 and Jones, C.P., ‘Hellenistic history in Chariton of Aphrodisias’, Chiron 22 (1992), 91–102Google Scholar argue for the author's acquaintance with Miletus.

26 Plepelits (n. 9), 179 specifically rules out Mylasa and Halicarnassus as potential locations for Mithridates’ estate, because both are south of Miletus, whereas Hyginus travels from the Carian estate to Priene (4.5.2), which is 16 km north of Miletus. This would make a journey from Aphrodisias, which is 120 km due east of Priene, more likely. The logic, though sound, does not account for the unknown motivation behind the choice of Priene as a pit stop.

27 Alvares, J., ‘A hidden magus in Chariton's Chaireas and Callirhoe’, Hermes 128 (2000), 383–4Google Scholar argues that at 5.7.10 (that is, the passage in question) Mithridates is parodying the necromantic powers of magi and their reputation for charlatanry. There may also be a nod to the ubiquitous role of Agathos Daimôn in Greek and Demotic magical papyri (where he is associated with the Egyptian god Shaï), on which see Ganschinietz (n. 7), 55–62; Feliciano, P., ‘The Agathos Daimon in Greco-Egyptian religion’, The Hermetic Tablet: The Journal of Ritual Magic 3 (2016), 171–92Google Scholar. For Nero's interest in the Magian mysteries, see Sanford, E.M., ‘Nero and the East’, HSPh 48 (1937), 75–103, at 79–80Google Scholar.

28 Bowersock, G.W., Fiction as History: Nero to Julian (Berkeley, 1994), 38–41Google Scholar; Bremmer, J.N., ‘The novel and the Apocryphal Acts: place, time and readership’, GCN 9 (1998), 157–80, at 167–71Google Scholar; Bowie, E.L., ‘The chronology of the Greek novel since B.E. Perry: revisions and precisions’, AncNarr 2 (2002), 47–63, at 55 and 58Google Scholar; Bowie, E.L., ‘The geography of the Second Sophistic: cultural variations’, in Borg, B.E. (ed.), Paideia: The World of the Second Sophistic (Berlin, 2004), 65–83, at 74–5Google Scholar; Bowie, E.L., ‘Links between Antonius Diogenes and Petronius’, in Paschalis, M., Frangoulidis, S., Harrison, S.J. and Zimmerman, M. (edd.), The Greek and the Roman Novel: Parallel Readings (AncNarr Supplementum 8) (Groningen, 2007), 121–32, at 127Google Scholar; Bowie, E.L., ‘Caging grasshoppers: Longus’ materials for weaving “reality”’, in Paschalis, M. and Panayotakis, S. (edd.), The Construction of the Real and Ideal in the Ancient Novel (AncNarr Supplementum 17) (Groningen, 2013), 179–98, at 193CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Yildirim, B., ‘Identities and empire: local mythology and the self-representation of Aphrodisias’, in Borg, B.E. (ed.), Paideia: The World of the Second Sophistic (Berlin, 2004), 23–52, at 43–4Google Scholar; Tilg (n. 24), 126–7, who includes the Metiochus and Parthenope and Chione fragments in the discussion. On the Ninus author specifically, see Stephens, S.A. and Winkler, J.J. (edd.), Ancient Greek Novels: The Fragments. Introduction, Text, Translation and Commentary (Princeton, NJ, 1995), 26–7CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Tilg (n. 24), 117–24. Whitmarsh, T., Narrative and Identity in the Ancient Greek Novel: Returning Romance (Cambridge, 2011), 30–1CrossRefGoogle Scholar alludes to the importance of Asia Minor for the emergence of romance narratives. Montero, C. Ruiz, ‘L'Asia Minore nel romanzo greco’, in Urso, G. (ed.), Tra Oriente ed Occidente. Indigeni, Greci e Romani in Asia Minore. Atti del Convegno Internazionale Cividale del Friuli, 28–30 settembre 2006 (Pisa, 2007), 259–70Google Scholar, at 261 remains hesitant about the role of Aphrodisias.

29 Periander: Diog. Laert. 1.94; Hdt. 3.50. Cambyses: Hdt. 3.32. Herodes Atticus (although no kick was involved in this instance): Philostr. V S 2.555; discussion by Pomeroy, S.B., The Murder of Regilla: A Case of Domestic Violence in Antiquity (Cambridge, MA, 2007), 119–23CrossRefGoogle Scholar. For the tradition of the topos, see Ameling, W., ‘Tyrannen und schwangere Frauen’, Historia 35 (1986), 507–8Google Scholar.

30 Nero's murder of Poppaea: Suet. Ner. 35.3; Tac. Ann. 16.6; discussion by Champlin, E., Nero (Cambridge, MA, 2003), 107–10Google Scholar. The parallel between Chaereas and Nero is noted by Perry, B.E., The Ancient Romances: A Literary-Historical Account of their Origins (Berkeley, 1967), 138Google Scholar and by Hunter (n. 20), 1079–82, who discusses Chaereas’ kick in the context of the tyrannical topos (discussed above), New Comedy and fifth-century b.c.e. legal reality; Goold (n. 16), 48–9 suggests that this episode in Chariton's novel might even have fuelled the charges against Nero; Tilg (n. 24), 48–9 is a useful overview. Bowie (n. 28 [2002]), 57 wonders whether Thelxinoe's embalming by Aigialeus in Xenophon of Ephesus (5.1.9–12) might reflect Poppaea's embalming by Nero in 65 c.e. (as reported by Tac. Ann. 16.6). Herrmann, L., ‘La Callirhoé de Publius Celer’, REA 78–9 (1975–6), 155–9CrossRefGoogle Scholar reconstructs the skein of potential allusions to Nero and Poppaea contained in the satirist Persius’ reference to a ‘Callirhoe’ (1.134).

31 Herrmann, L., ‘La date du roman de Ninus’, CE 28 (1939), 373–5Google Scholar, whose argument is reviewed and augmented by Tilg (n. 24), 113–15, but dismissed by Morgan, J.R., ‘On the fringes of the canon: work on the fragments of ancient Greek fiction 1936–1994’, ANRW 2.34.4 (1998), 3293–390, at 3336Google Scholar. Bowie (n. 28 [2002]), 57 dates the Ninus romance to between 63 and 75 c.e.

32 The epitaphic resonance of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων may have further significance in this connection. Many of the inscriptions listed in n. 13 end with the formula ζῇ ‘he/she is alive’ (IIasos 397; IMylasa 428, 433, 436–7, 450, 454, 458, 477, 494) or ζῶσιν ‘they are alive’ (IMylasa 442, 444, 446, 456, 473, 478, 487). It is an especially frequent formula in other cities of Asia Minor such as Aphrodisias and Cibyra, both on tombstones and sarcophagi. Whilst it tends to denote that the occupant commissioned the tomb/sarcophagus while they were still alive, it can also impart the sense that the occupant lives on after death. This is relevant for our purposes because directly after Mithridates has addressed Chaereas as δαῖμον ἀγαθέ, Callirhoe exclaims Χαιρέα, ζῇς; ‘Chaereas, are you alive?’ (cf. 4.5.8, 5.10.8), potentially extending the local epitaphic resonance of the episode. Discussions of the formula include Robert, L., Opera Minora Selecta VI (Amsterdam, 1989), 3 n. 5Google Scholar; Reynolds, J.M., ‘Aphrodisias and Aphrodisians in the inscriptions on garland-sarcophagi’, in Işkan, H. and Korkut, T. (edd.), 60. Yaşında Fahri Işık'a armağan – Anadolu'da Doğdu. Festschrift für Fahri Işık zum 60. Geburtstag (Istanbul, 2004), 627–9, at 628Google Scholar; Russell, B., The Economics of the Roman Stone Trade (Oxford, 2013), 258–9CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

33 The review of Bowersock (n. 28) by Demandt, A., Gnomon 69 (1997), 740–3, at 742Google Scholar makes a passing reference to the false Neros in the context of the Scheintod motif. (I thank the journal's anonymous reviewer for alerting me to this.)

34 e.g. Crateia's brother in Menander's Misoumenos and Cleostratus in the Aspis. See further Höschele, R., ‘Greek comedy, the novel, and epistolography’, in Fontaine, M. and Scafuro, A.C. (edd.), The Oxford Handbook of Greek and Roman Comedy (Oxford, 2014), 735–52, at 740–1Google Scholar.

35 Bowersock (n. 28), 99–120 argues for the influence of the Gospel narratives. At 5.10.1 Dionysius likens Chaereas’ return from the dead to that of Protesilaus, for whose popularity in the post-Neronian period see Bowersock (n. 28), 112–13. For a recent overview on links between the novel and Christian literature, see Konstan, D. and Ramelli, I., ‘The novel and Christian narrative’, in Cueva, E.P. and Byrne, S.N. (edd.), A Companion to the Ancient Novel (Oxford, 2014), 180–97CrossRefGoogle Scholar, with further bibliography.

36 Discussions of the false Neros include MacMullen, R., Enemies of Roman Order: Treason, Unrest, and Alienation in the Empire (Cambridge, MA, 1966), 143–4CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Gallivan, P.A., ‘The false Neros: a re-examination’, Historia 22 (1973), 364–5Google Scholar; Tuplin, C., ‘The false Neros of the first century’, in Deroux, C. (ed.), Studies in Latin Literature and History 5 (Brussels, 1989), 364–404Google Scholar; Champlin (n. 30), 10–12. On Nero's intentions and attitudes towards the East, see Sanford (n. 27).

37 On Nero's role in prophetic and apocalyptic narratives, such as the Sibylline Oracles and Revelations, see Sanford (n. 27); Tuplin (n. 36), 395–402.

38 Nero also crosses the Euphrates (as a φυγάς) at Sibylline Oracles 4.137–9.

39 C. Daude, ‘Éléments de la modélisation spatiale dans le roman de Chariton’, Recherches en linguistique étrangère, sémiotique, lexicologie, didactique xv, Annales littéraires de l'Université de Besançon (1990), 67–94, at 86–8. Alvares, J., ‘Some political and ideological dimensions of Chariton's Chaireas and Callirhoe’, CJ 97 (2001–2), 113–44, at 121Google Scholar observes that Chariton's Persian frontier is the contemporary Parthian frontier. The focus on the Euphrates as a border points to a Flavian or Hadrianic date for Baslez, M.-F., ‘De l'histoire au roman: la Perse de Chariton’, in Baslez, M.-F., Hoffmann, P. and Trédé, M. (edd.), Le Monde du Roman Grec: actes du colloque international tenu à l'Ecole normale supérieure (Paris 17–19 décembre 1987) (Paris, 1992), 199–212, at 203–4Google Scholar.

40 Alvares, J., ‘Egyptian unrest of the Roman era and the reception of Chariton's Chaireas and Callirhoe’, Maia 53 (2001), 11–19, at 15Google Scholar, discussing the significance of the Egyptian revolt in relation to Egypt as a locus of dissent against Rome, notes a resemblance between Chaereas’ support of the Egyptian rebellion in the seventh book and the first false Nero's wish to be delivered to Egypt (Tac. Hist. 2.9). I would add the resemblance between the attack upon this man's boat (expugnata nauis) by the Roman soldiers and that upon Chaereas’ boat by the Persian garrison (3.7.3).

41 Hunter (n. 20), 1057 sees Chaereas as an aggregate of several historical characters.

42 The dating of Chariton's novel is notoriously vexed, with options (varying in likelihood) ranging from the late first century b.c.e. to the middle of the second century c.e. (a terminus ante quem of 150 c.e. is provided by P.Michael. 1). Bowie (n. 28 [2002]), 57 places Chariton between 41 and 62 c.e.; C. Ruiz Montero, ‘Chariton von Aphrodisias: ein Überblick’, ANRW 2.34.2 (1994), 1006–54, at 1008–12 and Tilg (n. 24), 36–78 offer useful overviews and bibliography.

43 Champlin (n. 30), 10.

44 Plut. Flam. 12.8 records that Nero issued his proclamation at Corinth at the Isthmian games. Gallivan, P.A., ‘Nero's liberation of Greece’, Hermes 101 (1973), 230–4Google Scholar mobilizes epigraphic and numismatic evidence to date this event to 67 c.e. Halfmann, H., Itinera principum: Geschichte und Typologie der Kaiserreisen im römischen Reich (Stuttgart, 1986), 173–7 argues for 66Google Scholar c.e.

45 = Smallwood, E.M., Documents Illustrating the Principates of Gaius, Claudius and Nero (Cambridge, 1967), no. 64Google Scholar.

46 Corinth: RPC I 1205. Patras: I 1279. Sicyon: I 1238–44. On numismatic evidence for Nero's liberation of Achaea, see Levy, B.E., ‘Nero's liberation of Achaea: some numismatic evidence from Patrae’, in Heckel, W. and Sullivan, R. (edd.), Ancient Coins of the Graeco-Roman World: The Nickle Numismatic Papers (Waterloo, Ontario, 1984), 165–85Google Scholar. On Epictetus’ disparagement of coins bearing the imprint of Nero (Disc. 4.5.17), see Mabbott, T.O., ‘Epictetus and Nero's coinage’, CPh 36 (1941), 398–9Google Scholar.

47 Tuplin (n. 36), 387, with 383–6, on the Parthian amor Neronis, though see his qualifications, at 393, for Nero's popularity amongst eastern Greeks. Alvares (n. 39), 140 n. 106 detects in Chariton's novel a response to Nero's liberation of Achaea. Cf. Alvares, J., ‘Utopian themes in three Greek romances’, AncNarr 2 (2002), 1–29, at 15Google Scholar; Alvares, J., ‘The coming of age and political accommodation in the Greco-Roman novels’, in Paschalis, M., Frangoulidis, S., Harrison, S.J. and Zimmerman, M. (edd.), The Greek and the Roman Novel: Parallel Readings (AncNarr Supplementum 8) (Groningen, 2007), 3–22, at 15Google Scholar.

48 Tuplin (n. 36), 393–4.

49 Suet. Vesp. 8.4.

50 Levick, B.M., ‘Greece and Asia Minor’, in Bowman, A.K., Garnsey, P. and Rathbone, D. (edd.), CAH2 XI (Cambridge, 2000), 604–34, at 604–11Google Scholar offers discussion with further bibliography.

51 Levick, B.M., Roman Colonies in Southern Asia Minor (Oxford, 1967), 104Google Scholar. Vespasian also attracted the enmity of the Stoics and the Cynics (Dio Cass. 66.12; Suet. Vesp. 13, 15).

52 Swain, S.C.R., Hellenism and Empire: Language, Classicism, and Power in the Greek World, AD 50–250 (Oxford, 1996), 149Google Scholar attributes the hostility of this passage to Vespasian's abrogation of Nero's proclamation. Jones, C.P., Plutarch and Rome (Oxford, 1971), 18–19Google Scholar discusses Plutarch's views of Nero. For Greek intellectuals’ responses to Nero more generally, see Champlin (n. 30), 25–7.

53 Ramage, E.S., ‘Denigration of predecessor under Claudius, Galba, and Vespasian’, Historia 32 (1983), 201–14Google Scholar.

54 Smith, R.R.R., The Marble Reliefs from the Julio-Claudian Sebasteion. Aphrodisias, 6 (Mainz, 2013), 74–8Google Scholar (A 1), 168–9 (C 26); in the frieze depicting Nero and Armenia (C 8, at 140–1), Nero's head is lost.

55 Smith (n. 54), 41. Nero's name has been deleted in IAph2007 9.14, 9.42. On deletions of Nero's name in Aphrodisias, see Reynolds, J.M., ‘New evidence for the imperial cult in Julio-Claudian Aphrodisias’, ZPE 43 (1981), 317–27, at 324Google Scholar. Champlin (n. 30), 29–31 maintains that there was no official policy of damnatio memoriae towards Nero. For general discussion of Flavian policy towards the memory of Nero, see Flower, H.I., The Art of Forgetting: Disgrace and Oblivion in the Roman World (Chapel Hill, NC, 2006), 197–233Google Scholar, citing, at 213, Aphrodisias as evidence for the rule that representations of Nero from the later part of his reign came in for a greater degree of removal than those of the earlier parts.

56 Reynolds, J.M., Aphrodisias and Rome (London, 1982)Google Scholar is a useful starting-point. One fragmentary head of Vespasian has been found in the Propylon of the Sebasteion, on which see Smith (n. 54), 69 (S 7). For other possible Flavian additions to the Sebasteion, see Reynolds, J.M., ‘Ruler-cult at Aphrodisias in the Late Republic and under the Julio-Claudian emperors’, in Small, A. (ed.), Subject and Ruler: The Cult of the Ruling Power in Classical Antiquity. Papers Presented at a Conference held in The University of Alberta on April 13–15, 1994, to Celebrate the 65th Anniversary of Duncan Fishwick (Ann Arbor, 1996), 41–50, at 47Google Scholar.

57 On the role (or lack thereof) of Athens in Chariton's novel, see S.D. Smith, Greek Identity and the Athenian Past in Chariton: The Romance of Empire (AncNarr Supplementum 9) (Groningen, 2007). Chariton's thematic avoidance of Athens parallels Nero's physical avoidance of Athens, on the latter of which see Kennell, N.M., ‘ΝΕΡΩΝ ΠΕΡΙΟΔΟΝΙΚΗΣ’, AJPh 109 (1988), 239–51, at 246–7Google Scholar; Champlin (n. 30), 54–5, 98.

58 On the Alexandrian instantiation of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων, see Jakobson, O., Daimon och Agathos Daimon (Lund, 1925), 151–73Google Scholar; Fraser, P.M., Ptolemaic Alexandria, 2 vols. (Oxford, 1972), 1.209–11Google Scholar; Graf (n. 7); Ogden, D., Drakon: Dragon Myth and Serpent Cult in the Greek and Roman Worlds (Oxford, 2013), 286–305CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Ogden, D., ‘Alexander, Agathos Daimon, and Ptolemy: the Alexandrian foundation myth in dialogue’, in Sweeney, N. Mac (ed.), Foundation Myths in Ancient Societies: Dialogues and Discourses (Philadelphia, 2015), 129–50Google Scholar. For images, see LIMC 1.1 s.v. ‘Agathodaimon’.

59 Sarapis: Fraser (n. 58), 2.356 n. 16; Bruns-Özgan, C., ‘Tyche mit Agathos Daimon und den Horen’, EA 33 (2001), 137–44Google Scholar. Shaï: Quaegebeur, J., Le Dieu égyptien Shaï dans la religion et l'onomastique (Leuven, 1975)Google Scholar.

60 Suet. Ner. 19; Dio Cass. 63.27.2; Tac. Ann. 15.36. See further Montevecchi, O., ‘Nerone e l'Egitto’, P&P 30 (1975), 48–58Google Scholar; Champlin (n. 30), 172; Mratschek, S., ‘Nero the imperial misfit: philhellenism in a rich man's world’, in Buckley, E. and Dinter, M.T. (edd.), A Companion to the Neronian Age (Oxford, 2013), 45–62, at 46–7Google Scholar.

61 Discussions include Montevecchi (n. 60), 50; Hengstl, J., Griechische Papyri aus Ägypten als Zeugnisse des privaten und öffentlichen Lebens (Munich, 1978), 48–50CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Dundas, G.S., Pharaoh, Basileus and Imperator: The Roman Imperial Cult in Egypt (Los Angeles, 1994), 219–25Google Scholar; de Jong, J., ‘Egyptian papyri and “divinity” of the Roman Emperor’, in de Blois, L., Funke, P. and Hahn, J. (edd.), The Impact of Imperial Rome on Religions, Rituals, and Religious Life in the Roman Empire: Proceedings of the Fifth International Network, Münster, June 30–July 4, 2004 (Leiden, 2006), 239–52, at 245–6Google Scholar. On imperial cult in Egypt under the Julio-Claudians more generally, see N. Dörner, Feste und Opfer für den Gott Caesar: Kommunikationsprozesse im Rahmen des Kaiserkultes im römischen Ägypten der julisch-claudischen Zeit (30 v.Chr. – 68 n.Chr.) (Rahden, 2014).

62 = Smallwood (n. 45), no. 418.

63 RPC I 5210 (56/7 c.e.), 5219 (57/8 c.e.), 5230 (57/8 c.e.), 5240 (58/9 c.e.), 5249 (58/9 c.e.), 5260 (59/60 c.e.). For discussion, see Ganschinietz (n. 7), 50; Nöske, H.C., ‘Rückseitenprogramme auf den Alexandriner Tetradrachmen Neros’, Städel-Jahrbuch 19 (2004), 204–43Google Scholar.

64 Couvalis, G., ‘Alexandrian identity and the coinage commemorating Nero's “liberation” of the Greeks’, in Close, E., Tsianikas, M. and Couvalis, G. (edd.), Greek Research in Australia: Proceedings of the Sixth Biennial International Conference of Greek Studies, Flinders University June 2005 (Adelaide, 2007), 113–22, at 120–1Google Scholar.

65 RPC I 5303 (66/7 c.e.), 5320 (67/8 c.e.).

66 Domitian: RPC II 2642, 2680–2, 2702, 2713, 2734. Nerva: RPC III 4119. Trajan: RPC III 4123, 4141, 4194, 4213, 4253–4, 4283–4, 4347–9, 4472, 4502, 4563, 4586, 4646–7, 4759, 4845–6, 4853, 4964. Hadrian: RPC III 4989, 5010–11, 5039, 5056, 5065, 5090, 5120, 5136, 5149, 5158, 5174, 5209, 5227, 5240, 5270, 5371, 5380, 5596, 5610, 5677–8, 5755, 5865–6, 5907–8, 6080, 6303. Antonines: see Dunand, F., ‘Les representations de l'Agathodémon: à propos de quelques bas-reliefs du Musée d'Alexandrie’, BIAO 67 (1969), 9–48, at 10Google Scholar.

67 Marcus Aurelius is chronologically the next emperor after Nero, at least in the surviving traditions, to earn explicit designation as ἀγαθὸς δαίμων: [Μάρ]κ̣ος Αὐρήλιος Ἀγαθὸς Δαίμ[ων] (P.Ryl. 2.221 fr. C, line 25, dated to 200–25 c.e.).

68 Our four papyri of Chariton attest that he was being read in Egypt, so we need not worry that a readership would have been unaware of the Neronian associations of ἀγαθὸς δαίμων. Mid second century: P.Michael. 1 and P.Fay. 1. Second/third century: P.Oxy. 1019 and P.Oxy. 2948.

69 For such culturally bivalent (or ‘sylleptic’) reading-strategies applied to the novel, see Selden, D., ‘Genre of genre’, in Tatum, J. (ed.), The Search for the Ancient Novel (Baltimore and London, 1994), 39–64, at 48–51Google Scholar. On the ‘intercultural poetics’ in Ptolemaic Alexandria, see Stephens, S.A., Seeing Double. Intercultural Poetics in Ptolemaic Alexandria (Berkeley, CA, 2003)Google Scholar.

70 It is worth mentioning that in 221 c.e. a false Alexander the Great appeared in Moesia, whom Dio Cass. (79.18.1–3) refers to as a δαίμων. See Millar, F., A Study of Cassius Dio (Oxford, 1964), 214–15Google Scholar on this episode.