SCENE AND INSCRIPTIONS

The interior tondo of the Arcesilas Cup is separated into two registers, a main register and a lower register.Footnote ¹ The two registers are separated by a solid line, but form part of the same scene. In the main register the central elements are, from left: a large figure seated on a folding stool under a tarpaulin (all figures are male); a worker facing him and pointing to him; a large set of weighing scales loaded with goods; two workers moving goods to be weighed; one seeming to secure goods in a woven container, and another pointing to the scales. The goods appear to be weighed loose, with careful attention to the balance, before being placed in the containers. Other elements around these figures include seven animals, from left: a lizard behind the seated figure; a leopard below his stool; two birds and a monkey atop a beam above the scales; and two other birds in flight, one a raptor (eagle?) and the other a stork (or crane, Tivérios Reference Tivérios2000 [2001], 24). In the lower register, from left, we find: a seated or squatting man, two workers carrying sacks full of goods, and sacks stacked against a wall. The goods in question, which are contained in hatched sacks, have been proposed to be silphium or wool, both of which were likely significant exports of Cyrene/Libya (Gönster Reference Gönster, Kistler, Hoernes, Mohr and Öhlinger2015, 169–84; Chamoux Reference Chamoux1953, 262; White Reference White1984, 28; Mitchell Reference Mitchell, Brock and Hodkinson2000, 89–97; Kiehn Reference Kiehn2006, 57–60; Schaus Reference Schaus2006, 176). Discerning the nature of these goods is essential to the interpretation of the subject's significance, but the pictorial content alone does not provide sufficient clues. The inscriptions which surround the cup's figures are, therefore, critically important to the interpretation of the scene, though most of these lack certain readings.

Six inscriptions appear in the upper register and three in the lower register, matching the number of characters. All are written in the Laconian alphabet (De Ridder Reference De Puma1902, 98–100, no. 198; Schaus Reference Schaus1979, 105; Neumann Reference Neumann1979, 86; Wachter Reference Wachter2001, 160–2), and most are close to the characters, which might indicate that they provide each with an appellation or annotation. Two of the inscriptions, ΑΡΚΕΣΙΛΑΣ and ΦYΛΑΚΟΣ, have relatively straightforward readings. ΑΡΚΕΣΙΛΑΣ most likely identifies the seated figure in the top register as one of the two Battiad kings named Arcesilas who ruled Cyrene in the sixth century, more likely Arcesilas II (ruling c.566–560 bc: Wachter Reference Wachter2001, 160; Stibbe Reference Stibbe1972, 195–201). The figure wears lavish clothing, including footwear and an elaborate hat; he also has long braided hair and holds a staff. The figure's dress, together with his detailed folding stool/throne, exaggerated size, and positioning under a canopy, highlights his relative importance compared to the other smaller, more plainly clothed and labouring characters, all of which supports the conclusion that he is royalty. The leftmost inscription in the lower register, ΦYΛΑΚΟΣ, seems likely to be a speaking name, Φύλακος, since Wachter (Reference Wachter2001, 161) highlights that the name ΦYΛΑΚΟΣ is much more widespread than the use of this form for a noun.Footnote ² Either way, the indication of the name seems clear; the figure that stands/squats outside of the area where (presumably valuable) goods are being stored, as demarcated by a thick black line, is guarding access to the goods within.

The remaining inscriptions are much more difficult. Their reading has a significant impact on the interpretation of the weighing scene and its engagement with Egyptian art. However, the readings for these inscriptions are often heavily influenced by the identification of a link, through Arcesilas, to Cyrene and its trade in silphium. The word ΣΟΦΟΡΤΟΣ appears above the figure facing the king and pointing towards him with an extended finger. It was proposed by Neumann (Reference Neumann1979, 87–8) to be a proper name, Σώφορτος. Neumann related the name to Σώβιος, arguing that it indicated one ‘dessen (Schiffs-) Ladung unversehrt ist’ (‘one whose (ship-) cargo is safe’), and could thus be attributed to a rich merchant's son. Such an individual could have commissioned the cup to represent their involvement in trade at Cyrene. This reading might be supported by the fact that ΣΟΦΟΡΤΟΣ appears next to a figure wearing slightly more elaborate clothing than those carrying goods or loading the scale, and was accepted by Simon (Reference Simon1976, 60, referring to a draft of Neumann Reference Neumann1979) and Wachter (Reference Wachter2001, 160). Bresson (Reference Bresson2000, 87–8) is critical of such a reading, as the name Σώφορτος is not attested anywhere else and he doubts that a specific mercantile class which might adopt such a name existed around 560 bc (Aubet Reference Aubet1993, 107). Instead, Bresson follows Chamoux's (Reference Chamoux1953, 262) reconstruction of the inscription as [ἰ]σώφορτος ‘of equal balance’, but where Chamoux reads it as a name (Ἰσώφορτος), Bresson sees it as an exclamation directed at the king – ‘the weights are equal’. However, as an exclamation is unlikely (and the word is nominative), and Wachter (Reference Wachter2001, 160) observes that the word appears complete, ΣΟΦΟΡΤΟΣ as a name remains the most likely option. The figure facing the seated Arcesilas may, therefore, be a merchant, though I follow Wachter in concluding that this should be read as a speaking, rather than historical, name.

The words above the centre-right figures, the two workers who load the weights, are fragmentary. Both Bresson (Reference Bresson2000, 88) and Neumann (Reference Neumann1979, 88) were unsure on the reconstruction of the first word, [--]ẠΘΜΟΣ (also given as [ΣΤ]ΑΘΜΟΣ: De Ridder Reference De Ridder1902, 98–100). Neumann proposed that the inscription may have originally read ΕΠΙΣΤΑΘΜΟΣ (ἐπίσταθμος), ‘quartermaster’ or ‘one who weighs out/allots’. This fits well with the fact that the nearest figure to the word is loading the scales, but Wachter's (Reference Wachter2001, 160) ΕYΣΤΑΘΜΟΣ (εὔσταθμος), ‘having good scales’, fits the context equally well. The second central word is read by Neumann (Reference Neumann1979, 88–9) as [Φ]ỌΡΜΟΦΟΡΟΣ, taken as another speaking name related to the commercial scene, ‘basket carrier’ (φορμοφόρος: Lastenträger). Again, this reading fits well with the nearest figure to the inscription, who is carrying a sack. Wachter (Reference Wachter2001, 160–1) contends that the omicron before the rho of [Φ]ỌΡΜΟ is impossible because of a straight letter edge, but finds that the word must read as something similarly connected to carrying goods.

Next is ΟPYΧΟ, which Benton (Reference Benton1959, 181) and Tivérios (Reference Tivérios2000 [2001], 25) took as an imperative, ὄρυξο[ν]. Benton reads this as ‘dig (in)’, an exclamation by the worker pointing at the scales and directed at the birds, instructing them to eat insects from the woodwork.Footnote ³ However, neither the action of eating nor any insects are clearly shown. Furthermore, the figure closest to this inscription is closing the goods in sacking, not pointing upwards, and such a reading of ‘dig in’ as an invitation to eat might be too reliant on modern idiom. Tivérios reads ὄρυξο as ‘tear (out)’, building a narrative of the stork or crane being instructed to tear out Arcesilas’ eyes, which Maffre (Reference Maffre2004, 275) rightly sees as a complex departure from the images. Both readings would attach the imperative to the pointing figure, and so mean that just one character would lack an annotation, which seems improbable. Others read ΟPYΧΟ as an historical or speaking name. Schaus (Reference Schaus2006, 178) takes it as a (perhaps deliberately) misspelled reference to Ἐρυξώ, Arcesilas’ wife, offering an interpretation of the scene as satirical or critical of the Battiads, which is perhaps supported by Wachter's (Reference Wachter2001, 161) conclusion that the word suits a proper name. However, it would seem incongruous to find a name which relates to a character not on the vase when the rest of the labels can be read as having a direct relationship with the nearest painted figure. Neumann (Reference Neumann1979, 88) sees ΟPYΧΟ as either a proper name or appellation, ‘of (continuous) digging’, suggesting that this may refer to the digging up of silphium tubers. Bresson (Reference Bresson2000, 88) settled upon a similar view, repeating Chamoux's interpretation of the goods as silphium tubers and taking OPYΧΟ as déterreur (‘one who digs up/reveals’), labelling the worker as the one who digs up the silphium tubers. Unlike the previous inscriptions’ labelling of the depicted weighing activity, this reading would encompass previous stages in the production of the goods. With no clear silphium plants, and certainly no digging, depicted on the cup, the description of a worker as a ‘digger’ only makes sense when taking the goods to be silphium. Avoiding such a presumption, it might be preferable to give a reading with more immediate relevance to the actions depicted on the cup, namely that OPYXO may not relate to the digging up of tubers of silphium elsewhere but rather to an unclear aspect of the sacking-up of goods happening in the centre of the scene and carried out by the figure nearest this inscription. However, it appears that the goods are loose in the upper level and are sacked-up and taken down into the lower register for storage, rather produced out of it. It seems necessary to refer to readings of the following word, ΣΛΙΦΟΜΑΧΟΣ, and here taking silphium to be the weighed goods, I read ΟPYΧΟ as another speaking name, ‘digger’.

The final word of the upper register is ΣΛΙΦΟΜΑΧΟΣ, read from right to left (it is the only inscription which is also upside-down). It was argued by Benton (Reference Benton1959, 88) to mean ‘insect-hunter’, σλίφομαχος – with σίλφη, ‘insect’, as the root and comparable to a modern colloquial name for the woodpecker, μυρμιγγοφάγος, ‘ant-eater’. This, however, relies on Benton's poorly-evidenced discussion of the scene as an animal-based satire, which is rejected here. Besides Benton, all readings of ΣΛΙΦΟΜΑΧΟΣ are based upon the observation of a resemblance between ΣΛΙΦΟ and σίλφιον, arguing that the inscription is a compound with σίλφιον as its root. Already in 1833 d'Albert had noted both this similarity and the issues posed by such a reading (Wachter Reference Wachter2001, 161). First, ΣΙΛ- must become ΣΛΙ-. To solve this Neumann (Reference Neumann1979, 90) suggested the metathesis of the iota and lambda in σίλφιον, while Wachter suggests that the word may have entered the Greek language as σλίφιον, or that this is a copying error (Wachter Reference Wachter2001, 161–2; see also Gönster Reference Gönster, Kistler, Hoernes, Mohr and Öhlinger2015, 175).Footnote ⁴ Secondly, φιο must become φο, which Wachter suggests may be explained as a case of abbreviated writing. Finally, and most problematically, the compound with -μαχος must be made intelligible. Tivérios (Reference Tivérios2000 [2001], 25) gives ‘silphium battler’ (σιλφιόμαχος, from μάχη), while Bresson (Reference Bresson2000, 88–9) supports a tentative case for ‘silphium-balance’. The latter can be achieved if the word is a compound of the Greek (or Libyan?) σίλφιον and a transliteration, -μαχος, of the Egyptian word for scales, mekhat (measuring instrument, where < khaj = measure and m + khaj = measuring instrument), as first proposed by Puchstein (Reference Puchstein1880–1, n. 15) and Studniczka (Reference Studniczka1890, 12). Recent study of the phenomenon of ‘nonsense’ in Greek vase inscriptions (e.g. Mayor, Colanrusso and Saunders Reference Mayor, Colanrusso and Saunders2014) supports the principle that such difficult readings could be signs of foreign words spelled out phonetically, but Wachter (Reference Wachter2001, 161) argues that a phonetic similarity is improbable and anachronistic in this case. Neumann (Reference Neumann1979, 90) reads the term as ‘silphium-kneader’, from the verb μάσσω, ‘knead’, but admits that there is nothing about the scene which particularly supports this reading, and the goods could easily be something other than silphium. We might, however, make good sense of the idea of ‘kneading’ silphium through Theophrastus’ description of a process of mixing the sap of the plant with flour, which Gönster identifies as a means of preserving the plant for redistribution (Theophrastus, Historia Plantarum 9.1.7, 6.3.2; Gönster Reference Gönster, Kistler, Hoernes, Mohr and Öhlinger2015, 174–5). Wachter (Reference Wachter2001, 162) suggests a (hypothetical) alternative, ΣΙΛΦ(I)ΟΜΑ(P)ΨΟΣ (Σιλφ(ι)όμα(ρ)ψος, from μάρπτω, ‘to take hold of’), ‘the one who seizes silphium’, but it is not clear whether we should interpret μάρπτω as ‘gather’, ‘acquire’ or something more violent. Of these readings, I am most inclined to follow Neumann's interpretation, taking ‘kneading’ to be a plausible stage in the preparation process. It is notable that either this or ΣΙΛΦ(I)ΟΜΑ(P)ΨΟΣ could extend the viewer's appreciation of the silphium product beyond the immediate scene of the vase, to a production or gathering context. Moreover, it is important that silphium remains the most viable option for the first part of the compound. This identification of the goods as silphium, though tentative, is used and further supported throughout the rest of this paper.

The final two inscriptions, accompanying the workers carrying goods in the lower register, are the most difficult to read. ΜΑΕΝ was reconstructed as μέμαεν, ‘he covets’, by Tivérios (Reference Tivérios2000 [2001], 25), but, as Maffre (Reference Maffre2004, 275) has highlighted, there is no space for the addition of any letters before the initial ‘M’ of ΜΑΕΝ. Mei (Reference Mei2013, 28, after Lane) opts for an abbreviated writing of μα(γ)έν from μάσσω. This would be a reference to a ‘kneaded’ silphium product, perhaps with a gum-like consistency, which makes sense with Neumann's ‘kneader’ and philologically but, as Wachter points out, is awkward in that would appear to annotate the goods rather than a human character. The inscription may be unreadable.Footnote ⁵ The final inscription, read by Mei (Reference Mei2013, 28) as ΕΛΙΚΤΟΝ, ἑλικτόν, is similarly problematic. This adjective, from ἑλίσσω, would describe something rolled, or twisted. Mei interprets ΕΛΙΚΤΟΝ, together with MAEN, as an indication that the lower register of the scene represents and annotates the storage of silphium in its final, kneaded, form within crafted baskets. Mei's reading, however, is an ambitious reconstruction of very slight remaining marks, elsewhere identified only as E… (Neumann Reference Neumann1979, 91; Wachter Reference Wachter2001, 161). Perhaps these final two inscriptions could be purposefully or mistakenly obscure (Wachter Reference Wachter2001, 162; Neer Reference Neer2002, 9–26).

The Arcesilas Cup's inscriptions reveal at least two Cyrenean connections. The cup names a king of Cyrene, Arcesilas, and most likely uses the inscription ΣΛΙΦΟΜΑΧΟΣ to indicate that its subject is the weighing of the silphium plant or a refined product of the plant. The case for silphium is somewhat tentative, but it makes good sense that we would find silphium alongside Arcesilas in the mid-sixth century. This plant was found only in Libya, around Barca and Euesperides (Herodotus 4.169; Pliny, Natural History 19.15; Mitchell Reference Mitchell, Brock and Hodkinson2000, 98; Austin Reference Austin and Tsetskhladzep2008, 210) and Theophrastus tells us that only the Libyans could gather the plant (Historia Plantarum 9.1.7). Mitchell (Reference Mitchell, Brock and Hodkinson2000, 89–97) stresses the importance of valuable silphium exports for the power of the later rulers of the Battiad regime, and in the fifth century the association of Battiad wealth with silphium was widely enough known to find a place in Aristophanes’ Wealth (925). It is likely that this royal monopoly had already emerged by the early sixth century. The importance of silphium was such for the Cyrenean economy that by the latter part of the sixth-century Cyrenean coins featured the plant, its seed, or a divinity seated before a silphium plant (Gönster Reference Gönster, Kistler, Hoernes, Mohr and Öhlinger2015; Riddle Reference Riddle2003; Faustoferri Reference Faustoferri, Barker, Lloyd and Reynolds1985), and it seems that Demonax's reforms in the middle of the century had maintained pre-existing Battiad control of silphium-producing lands (Mitchell Reference Mitchell, Brock and Hodkinson2000, 88).

These Cyrenean connections must be taken into consideration when discussing the commission of the cup and the significance of its unusual depiction of weighing. However, they are far from being the cup's only, or even most remarkable, links with North Africa.

COMPARISON WITH EGYPTIAN FUNERARY ART

Similarities between the weighing scene on the Arcesilas Cup and depictions of weighing in Egyptian funerary art have been mentioned in most scholarship commenting on the tondo's subject, including Puchstein (Reference Puchstein1880–1 and Reference Puchstein1881–2), Lane (Reference Lane1933–4), Boardman (Reference Boardman1958 and Reference Boardman1980), Benton (Reference Benton1959), Schaus (Reference Schaus1979, Reference Schaus1992 and Reference Schaus2006), Bresson (Reference Bresson2000), Coudin (Reference Coudin2009) and Mei (Reference Mei2013), with Maffre (Reference Maffre2004, 276) providing a rare critical view of such a connection. However, when one reviews previous scholarship it becomes clear that little detailed analysis of the Egyptian influences on the iconography and composition of the Arcesilas Cup was made before Bresson's La Cité Marchande (Reference Bresson2000, 89–94). Furthermore, since Bresson, little further work has been done to describe or explain the ‘Egyptian’ characteristics of the cup, or to challenge his commentary.

The hypothesis that the Arcesilas Painter drew inspiration from Egyptian weighing scenes first appeared in Puchstein's short article ‘Zur Arcesilasschale’ (Puchstein Reference Puchstein1880–1). However, Puchstein barely commented on which specific details he thought might connect the cup to Egyptian art, and focused instead on possible links between Egypt and Cyrene (thought at that time to be the centre of production for Laconian pottery).Footnote ⁶ Around fifty years later, in an examination of Laconian pottery, Lane (Reference Lane1933–4, 161) noted an ‘unmistakable’ relationship between the decoration of the cup and Egyptian wall painting, but again, he did not outline which features led him to make this observation, and attributed the cup's exotic animals to the fauna of Cyrene, rather than Egypt or Egyptian art. Lane also gave no further detail on whether ‘wall painting’ referred to depictions of the weighing of commercial goods by officials, illustrations of the weighing of the heart before Osiris, or both. Rather, Lane included a footnote (Lane Reference Lane1933–4, 162, n. 1) referring readers to Puchstein's limited coverage for further details of similarities with Egyptian art. Similarly, Benton (Reference Benton1959, 182) directed her readers to Lane when mentioning a connection between weighing scenes in Egyptian art and the Arcesilas Cup. In general, therefore, the cup's Egyptian links were treated as common knowledge, despite a lack of developed discussion of how this conclusion was reached.

Boardman (Reference Boardman1958, 9, n. 22; Reference Boardman1980, 149) added more specific detail to the account of the cup's iconography, stating that the scene of the cup's tondo was parallel in content, but not in spirit, to the weighing of goods by Egyptian officials. Boardman proposed that the most striking Egyptian parallel was the depiction of an official weighing goods painted on the wall of the New Kingdom tomb of Neferronpet (TT 178). In doing so, Boardman implicitly rejected the comparisons with the weighing of the heart scene that Puchstein had drawn, and it is likely that the weighing of goods is also the sort of Egyptian weighing scene that Lane had had in mind, considering that he attributed the Arcesilas Cup's use of animals to the fauna of Cyrene rather than to the variety of birds and reptiles commonly found in weighing of the heart scenes.Footnote ⁷ However, although the bustle and the positioning of certain workers on the Arcesilas Cup does resemble the gathering and weighing goods in Egyptian scenes such as that from Neferronpet's tomb and others, this explanation of the cup's weighing scene leaves many more of the cup's unusual iconographical and compositional elements largely unexplained, most notably the inclusion of several animals.

It was only when Bresson discussed the Arcesilas Cup in a chapter of La Cité Marchande (Bresson Reference Bresson2000, 89–94) that a convincing study drew out specific similarities between the Arcesilas Cup and Egyptian funerary art. Relying chiefly on two New Kingdom funerary papyri representative of archetypes in Egyptian funerary art (the Papyrus of Ani [BM EA 10470/3] and Papyrus of Hunefer [BM EA 9901/3]), Bresson picked out the cup's archaising weighing mechanism, baboon, and positioning of a ‘scribal’ character as features critical to a definite conclusion that aspects of the composition and iconography of the Arcesilas Cup were modelled on Egyptian weighing of the heart scenes. However, despite a more thorough approach to the identification of similarities, Bresson's discussion contained errors and omissions which remain unaddressed, necessitating a review of the Arcesilas Cup's possible use of Egyptian composition and iconography.

The subject and composition of the weighing scene

Most prior scholarship has picked up on broad parallels between the composition and subject of the Arcesilas Cup and weighing of the heart scenes. An imposing, regal, seated character (Arcesilas, Osiris) positioned to one side of a large weighing device which is operated by several smaller characters provides the central subject of both the Arcesilas Cup and most weighing of the heart scenes. In both, there are multiple connected registers of characters, and the scale of the figures appears manipulated to show their status in the proceedings. Arcesilas is so large that the guard of the lower register is only equal to his shin, and if he were to stand he would easily tower over all the workers, even those in the main register. Clearly, the cup and weighing of the heart share a broadly similar subject and some important compositional elements, but which of these features might be taken as evidence that the weighing of the heart provided the model for the Arcesilas Painter?

The positioning of dominant seated figure to one side of a composition is not an uncommon feature in Laconian depictions of deities and/or the (heroised?) dead in the sixth century bc, and though some comparable instances of the motif may be inspired by the enthroned figures ubiquitous in Egyptian funerary art, there is little evidence of direct copying in this case.Footnote ⁸ Similarly, the manipulation of natural proportions for aesthetic reasons or to show the status of actors in a scene, though an important feature of Egyptian art, also appears elsewhere in Laconian and other Greek art, for example on the Chrysapha relief and in a depiction of winemaking in the tondo of a Boreads Painter cup.Footnote ⁹ The use of multiple registers to construct a single scene, common in Egyptian art, is unusual but, again, not without parallel in Greek art. The aforementioned Boreads Painter cup is an especially relevant example. It provides a roughly contemporary parallel for the Arcesilas Cup's use of a lower register contributing to the primary scene, with each using a thick black line to separate the weighing and winemaking activities from storage ‘underground’. It seems, therefore, that neither the use of scale and multiple registers nor the position of the dominant seated character is sufficiently novel as to suggest without doubt that the Arcesilas Painter directly modelled these aspects of the cup's composition on a weighing of the heart scene.

Nonetheless, the unusual combination of the subject and arrangement of the cup remains remarkable. Weighing scenes, especially using large scales, are very rare in the Archaic Period. No similar scenes appear in surviving Laconian art. The few contemporary weighing scenes which do exist, on Athenian black-figure vessels, prioritise simplicity and balance in the action of weighing, typically with a similar individual at either end of the scale, either both standing, or both seated, and both equally engaged in the act of weighing.Footnote ¹⁰ Conversely, the Arcesilas Cup uses a crowded and asymmetrical arrangement, in which many characters operate a large set of scales in front of the one large, seated overseer. This crowded asymmetry and suggestion of productivity is paralleled in Boreads Painter's cup, but in the context of a weighing scene, the composition finds its closest parallels in the arrangement of figures in Egyptian illustrations of the weighing of the heart, for example in the roughly contemporary Papyrus of Nehemesratawy (Fig. 3).Footnote ¹¹

Fig. 3.

Weighing of the heart vignette from the Papyrus of Nehemesratawy, Late Period, Thebes. Museo Egizio Torino 1799. © Museo Egizio Torino.

Parallels in the characters and objects in the weighing scene

The large seated characters of the Arcesilas Cup and the weighing of the heart, Arcesilas and Osiris, are comparable in their use of status symbols, including their staffs and crowns, and in their positioning under a canopy or roof. It is possible that the unusual combination of elements comprising Arcesilas’ dress, such as his staff and peaked hat, were intended to evoke or imitate the paraphernalia of Osiris, as Schaus (Reference Schaus2006, 176–7) has suggested. However, Arcesilas’ hat,Footnote ¹² slippersFootnote ¹³ and staffFootnote ¹⁴ all have parallels in contemporary Laconian, East Greek, Lydian, or Etruscan fashion, and may simply reflect an unusual combination of exotic but contemporary tastes. The folding stool on which Arcesilas sits is not comparable to Osiris’ throne, and though it shares its animal-shaped feet with furniture from Egypt and the Near East, it is unlikely that the cup's throne is a depiction of furniture from either of these places. The stool's crooked legs terminate in outward-facing bull's feet. This design appears to be distinctly Greek or Etruscan, and is well attested on Archaic Greek vases, though less commonly represented than stools with inward-facing lion's feet.Footnote ¹⁵

Other comparisons in the iconography and paraphernalia of the characters need to be approached carefully. Bresson (Reference Bresson2000, 87–8, 92) notes that the posture and positioning of the figure nearest Arcesilas (Sophortos), and holding a ‘stylus’, are parallel to the depiction of Thoth in many weighing of the heart vignettes. Both characters appear nearest to, face, and seem to address the figure of key authority, and both hold a small stylus indicating their role as scribe. However, it does not appear that Sophortos holds a stylus as Bresson suggests. Instead, this figure points their middle finger, in the same manner as Arcesilas and the rightmost figure in the main register. It seems possible that these gestures are an indication that these characters are communicating (bartering?). Only the position and posture of Sophortos can be considered parallel to Thoth. Similarly, Bresson's use of the design of the weighing mechanism as a significant piece of evidence that the Arcesilas Painter used the Egyptian weighing of the heart as his model is problematic (Bresson Reference Bresson2000, 93–4). In most ways, the weighing mechanism of the Arcesilas Cup is like those found in other Greek weighing scenes, and unlike Egyptian weighing mechanisms. Most notably, the cup's scale is suspended from above, while Egyptian weighing scenes show scales supported by a central post. However, the beam of the Arcesilas Cup's balance terminates with distinctive conical embellishments at either end, from which the ropes for the suspension of the plates protrude and descend. Using Glanville's discussion of Egyptian weighing mechanisms (Glanville Reference Glanville1935–6, 23–35), Bresson suggests that the design of the balance beam's conical ends is a characteristic of Egyptian scales used in the New Kingdom. Such a design was, apparently, functionally defunct by the Late Period, if not before. The continued representation of such scales in Egyptian art until the Roman period thus reflected an archaising artistic trend and the reuse of New Kingdom scenes. Accordingly, Bresson concludes that the Arcesilas Cup's scales are firm evidence for the painter's use of Egyptian art as a model.

Unfortunately, Glanville's is a single, dated interpretation, and as the development of Egyptian scales is not well addressed in more recent scholarship, it is extremely difficult to appraise the merits of Bresson's case. The difference between the construction of the Arcesilas Cup's weighing beam and those found elsewhere in Greek vase painting is slight. As a result, it is difficult to tell whether the conical ends and the protrusion of the strings truly represent a non-Greek weighing mechanism, especially as this feature can be relatively subtle in Egyptian depictions (Fig. 4). Arguably as notable as the conical ends to the Arcesilas Cup's weighing beam are the dangling strings from the centre of the beam. These are not paralleled elsewhere in contemporary Greek depictions of weighing, and, especially as they appear to be pointed to by a worker, might have been loosely modelled on the line found hanging from the centre of the Egyptian weighing mechanism and checked by an attendant.

Fig. 4.

A detail from the weighing of the heart vignette of the Book of the Dead of Aaner, Third Intermediate Period. Museo Egizio Torino 1771. © Museo Egizio Torino.

Careful examination of the Arcesilas Cup's figures highlights that Bresson may have overstated the Egyptian root of features such as the ‘scribal’ figure and the weighing mechanism. However, despite these corrections, it is hard to escape the conclusion that the positions and gestures of the characters on the cup seem to follow a broad model found in weighing of the heart scenes and that there is little in Greek art to compare to the cup's unusual combination of subject matter and composition. Such features include the enthroned Arcesilas under his canopy, addressed by the more richly dressed and non-labouring Sophortos nearest him, but also extend to other figures in the scene. As mentioned above, the posture and position of the figure on the right-hand side of the cup, who points upwards to the centre point of the balance, is paralleled by the placement of a figure in some weighing of the heart vignettes, generally Horus (Fig. 3, paralleled in contemporary tombs at the Bahariya Oasis; Fakhry Reference Fakhry1942, 65–93) or Anubis (Fig. 4). Similarly, the small, shrouded ‘guard’ sitting alone in the corner of the lower register, with his legs tucked against his chest, could be argued to (very) loosely resemble the shrouded ‘assessors’ typically represented in a separate register above or below weighing of the heart vignettes on papyri (Fig. 3).

INTERPRETATION OF THE SUBJECT

The Arcesilas Cup appears to spurn the typical themes of sixth-century Laconian pottery, such as mythological conflict, gods and elite banqueting, in favour of a scene showing the weighing of silphium and modelled on Egyptian funerary art. Not only are the subject and use of an Egyptian model unusual, but also the annotation of the tondo and the depiction of a historical figure, Arcesilas II, which is practically unique (Mei Reference Mei2013, 29–30). Such a strange combination of features suggests that the cup could not have been produced as a commercial speculation, but was commissioned to illustrate a specific theme or idea, but what was this theme or idea, and what does it tell us about the buyer?

CONTEXTS FOR TRANSMISSION BETWEEN EGYPT AND LACONIA

It is relevant for the discussion of the Arcesilas Cup, and of broader significance for the study of Greek interactions with Egypt, whether it was the Arcesilas Painter or their customer who elected to use an Egyptian model as the basis for the composition of the Arcesilas Cup, and how the painter or customer came to be aware of such a model in the first place. An assumption underlying many interpretations of the Arcesilas Cup, including that proposed in this paper, is that the Egyptian iconography was purposefully deployed as a contribution to the meaning of the cup's subject. This conclusion might suggest that whoever commissioned the cup acquired the model and supplied it to the painter, or else more generally instructed the use of Egyptian elements. On the other hand, some scholars, including Coudin (Reference Coudin2009, 161), clearly believe that the Arcesilas Cup might be based upon sketches taken by the artist ‘on site’ (d'un croquis sur place). For many, the extent to which the cup shows familiarity with Egyptian weighing of the heart scenes reflects a direct study of Egyptian art, which if not taken ‘on site’ must likely indicate the movement of a portable version of Egyptian funerary art. Uncertainty about the process of transmission stems mostly from the fact that no prior discussion of the Arcesilas Cup has made a priority of clarifying the contexts of Egyptian funerary art, its transmission within and beyond Egypt, and the situations in which we might imagine it being accessible for a Greek ‘on site’.

Contributing to these shortcomings is, undoubtedly, the fact that previous observations on the similarities between the Arcesilas Cup and Egyptian weighing scenes have been restrictively based on New Kingdom examples, all dated to the latter half of the second millennium bc. Boardman (Reference Boardman1958) draws comparison with the New Kingdom tomb of Neferronpet, and similar examples of tomb painting were the primary point of reference for Lane and Puchstein. Bresson (Reference Bresson2000, 90–1) and Schaus (Reference Schaus2006, 177) both use the same two New Kingdom texts, The Papyrus of Ani and The Papyrus of Hunefer. Schaus notes that the Arcesilas Painter more likely accessed such designs through something like a ‘pattern book’ or common knowledge than a tomb; however, all the examples of the weighing of the heart in other media which he mentions date 400–900 years earlier than the Arcesilas Cup.Footnote ³⁶ Such uses of evidence hundreds of years removed from the date of the Arcesilas Cup have elsewhere been justified through references to an overall archaising trend in the art of the Late Period (Bresson Reference Bresson2000, 93; Boardman Reference Boardman1958, 9). As shown below, to an extent the observation of archaising habits is accurate (Russmann Reference Russmann and Lloyd2010, 944). Nonetheless, a clearer understanding of how an archaising trend in Late Period Egyptian art intersected with the transmission of Egyptian motifs to Laconian artists is achievable and useful.

Funerary papyri have been used to illustrate this paper's discussion of the Arcesilas Cup's links to Egyptian art, in part for practical reasons.Footnote ³⁷ However, it is Egyptian tombs that present the broadest evidence of sixth-century Graeco-Egyptian interactions in contexts where we find funerary art, and it makes sense to start by discussing these. Egyptian royals and elites often had their tomb walls and funerary chapels decorated with idealised depictions of the life of the deceased and illustrated extracts of funerary texts associated with a successful transition into the afterlife. The scenes used included illustrations both of the weighing of the heart, suggested here and by several other scholars to be a model for the Arcesilas Cup (Puchstein Reference Puchstein1880; Bresson Reference Bresson2000; Schaus Reference Schaus2006; and Mei Reference Mei2013) and the weighing of goods, New Kingdom examples of which Boardman (Reference Boardman1958), and probably Lane (Reference Lane1933–4), linked to the Arcesilas Cup.

Key to imagining a causal relationship between tomb painting and the Arcesilas Cup is the fact that although tomb painting in Egypt declined sharply after the New Kingdom,Footnote ³⁸ it regained popularity in the Third Intermediate Period and Late Period, coinciding with renewed construction of tombs, the use of funerary amulets among groups of more diverse social status, and the decoration of elite tombs with depictions of funerary rites and beliefs previously restricted to royalty (Li Reference Li2010; Taylor Reference Taylor and Wendrich2010b; Stammers Reference Stammers2009). During the Third Intermediate Period and Late Period, monumental funerary activity was widespread beyond the Theban necropolis. Richly decorated tombs, often with substantial surface superstructures, were constructed in the expansive necropolis of Saqqara, near Memphis, and even in remote communities such as the important trading and military post at the Bahariya Oasis (Hawass Reference Hawass2000; Bassir and Sherbiny Reference Bassir and Sherbiny2014, 171–89; Fakhry Reference Fakhry1942, 65–93). Many royals and some elite individuals, previously given extra-urban tombs, were now entombed within storerooms or chapels in temple complexes attached to urban and palatial sites central to Egypt's administrative and religious organisation, for example at Tanis and Saïs (Taylor Reference Taylor and Wendrich2010b, 223–6; Dodson Reference Dodson and Lloyd2010, 821; Naunton Reference Naunton and Lloyd2010, 131; Dodson Reference Dodson1988, 221–33; Montet Reference Montet1947). As well as the construction of new tombs, tombs of the Old Kingdom and New Kingdom, as well as those recently built, were reused very extensively (Bard Reference Bard2015, 306–8; Dodson Reference Dodson and Lloyd2010; Wilkinson Reference Wilkinson, Wilkinson and Weeks2016, 347–59; Taylor Reference Taylor, Wilkinson and Weeks2016, 360–72; Aston Reference Aston, Strudwick and Taylor2003, 138–55). These changes marked both a popular revival of lavish funerary activity and the drawing together of religious and funerary spheres.

This resurgence in tomb painting, and the changes in funerary activity, reflected a wider archaising phenomenon which recycled and reimagined traditional designs, styles and titles. Late Period Egyptian artists did not only use similar motifs to those found in New Kingdom tombs (Dodson Reference Dodson and Lloyd2010, 821–4; Taylor Reference Taylor and Wendrich2010b; Stammers Reference Stammers2009, 48–68; Manassa Reference Manassa2007, 438–40); they also directly reproduced scenes from reused or opened tombs, sometimes using a grid-measure technique (for example, the replication of the girls quarrelling from the hall of the New Kingdom TT 69: Porter and Moss Reference Porter and Moss1960, 59, 135; Bryan Reference Bryan and Lloyd2010, 1006–7).Footnote ³⁹ Furthermore, these reproductions were not confined to tombs around Thebes. A tomb at Saqqara belonging to Bakenrenef, an Egyptian official who moved from Thebes to Memphis when Dynasty XXVI established the latter as its administrative centre, incorporated designs which had been copied from several Theban tombs and brought to Memphis, either specifically for this tomb, or as part of a workshop's wider repertoire (Stammers Reference Stammers2009, 54–5, 63). Clearly, therefore, there were sixth-century ‘pattern books’ of funerary art in some form.Footnote ⁴⁰ The scenes replicated in this way may have included the weighing of the heart scene, which was popular in New Kingdom private tombs and appeared in royal tombs for the first time in the Third Intermediate period (Dodson Reference Dodson and Lloyd2010, 821).Footnote ⁴¹ There are many forms of weighing of the heart in the seventh and sixth century, but basic similarities between examples from the grand, palatial mastaba tomb of Tjery (Saqqara, early Dynasty XXVI), and contemporary, richly decorated tombs of Bannantiu and Pa-Nentwy, in the distant Bahariya Oasis, indicate widespread common knowledge or common source material containing at least the most basic attributes of the scene (Hawass Reference Hawass2000, 188–92; Tiradritti Reference Tiradritti2008, 352–8; Aufrère, Golvin and Goyon Reference Aufrère, Golvin and Goyon1994, 125–40; El-Sadeek Reference El-Sadeek1984). There is a strong case, therefore, for the mobility of such designs within Egypt, but could Greeks also have seen these paintings sur place, and if so which Greeks and where?

Schaus (Reference Schaus2006, 180, n. 33) has argued, following Hoeckman and Verhoeven, that the Greeks would be explicitly barred from tombs and therefore the tomb and associated funerary equipment were problematic sources for Greek contact with the model for the Arcesilas Cup. He cites an example of the Book of the Dead (P. Colon. Aeg. 10207) which states that it was undesirable to have Greeks learning spells of the afterlife. However, evidence that the Egyptians desired to avoid the Greeks developing an understanding of the esoteric knowledge required to navigate eschatological journeys does not necessarily suggest that Greeks were not accessing Egyptian tombs (and may rather indicate the anxiety of some over the fact that they were). Late Period tomb complexes served as monuments for the worship of Osiris long after the burial of the deceased, with superstructures designed for ‘conspicuous display’ and decorated to ‘welcome the visitor’ and invite them to make offerings, as well as with scenes from the Book of the Dead (Stammers Reference Stammers2009, 62; see also Taylor Reference Taylor and Wendrich2010b, 223–6; Dodson Reference Dodson and Lloyd2010, 821; Naunton Reference Naunton and Lloyd2010, 131; Pischikova Reference Pischikova1998, 63). The aforementioned mastaba tomb of Tjery, for example, placed the weighing of the heart scene in Chamber 2, a central, open chamber where Tjery would receive mortuary cult and offerings would be made to Osiris (Stammers Reference Stammers2009, 62; for a roughly contemporary example from Thebes, see Griffith Reference Griffith, Pischikova, Budka and Griffin2014, 251–68).

Tjery's tomb remained in use for subsequent burials, and must have received many visitors. It is reasonable to speculate that visitors to tombs like Tjery's may have included Greeks, welcome or otherwise. Memphis, as well as being an administrative centre for Dynasty XXVI, was a major focus for religious pilgrimage and travel within Egypt and, during the reigns of Apries and Amasis, the home of a substantial foreign mercenary force based at the palatial and religious complex around the Palace of Apries (Herodotus 2.154, 3.139; Stammers Reference Stammers2009, 2; Rutherford Reference Rutherford, Roemer and Matthews2003, 171–90; Trindade Lopes Reference Trindade Lopes2011, 247–58 and Reference Trindade Lopes, Goyon and Cardin2007, 1163–6). Sixth-century funerary stelae and other objects inscribed in Carian or (typically Ionian) Greek have been found at the Saqqara necropolis (Masson Reference Masson1978, Vittmann Reference Vittmann2003, 162–77, 219–31). These objects suggest that the Carians and, to a lesser extent, Greeks used Egyptian iconography and objects for their burials. The stelae most likely reflect the surviving element of a wider engagement with funerary art, ideas, amulets and practices, which may have included the reuse of Egyptian burial spaces.Footnote ⁴² Scenes on Carian (or Egyptian) stelae do not include the weighing of the heart, but the East Greek craftsmen attributed with the production of these stelae appear to have adapted aspects from a variety of sources (Masson Reference Masson1978, 57).Footnote ⁴³ At the very least, it is apparent that Greeks and Carians at Memphis had some interaction with the nearby funerary landscape of Saqqara. This very likely extended to communication with the temple staff organising this landscape, who probably decided where foreigners should be buried, but might not have been willing to share designs which included or alluded to spells.

Evidence elsewhere supports the idea of Greek access to tombs. Carian graffiti has been found between entrances to funerary chapels inside the first court of the Late Period tomb complex of Montouemhet at Thebes (Porter and Moss Reference Porter and Moss1960, 57; Leclant Reference Leclant1950–1, 371; Russman Reference Russmann1994, 1–19). The nature of the short inscriptions is unclear, but that such a visit resulted in graffiti need not necessarily be considered an unwelcome aberration of Egyptian practices, as elsewhere Egyptian graffiti in tombs is considered an acceptable, indeed desirable, part of Gedächtniskultur.Footnote ⁴⁴ It is quite possible that visitors from Greece may have been taken to, or encouraged to visit, tombs monumentalising leading individuals from elite families. A hospitable and prestigious relationship between some Greeks and Egyptian elites in the sixth century can be inferred from the relatively significant volume of Greek amphorae repurposed as valued funerary equipment and offerings in Egyptian Dynasty XXVI burials at Thebes (Schreiber Reference Schreiber, Pischikova, Budka and Griffin2014, 241–3 and Reference Schreiber, Pischikova, Budka and Griffin2015, 310–11; Villing Reference Villing, Tsingarida and Viviers2013, 80–1) and also at Saqqara (Villing Reference Villing, Tsingarida and Viviers2013, 88). Furthermore, Herodotus claims to have been taken to the area of the royal burials at Saïs, which were within the complex of the temple of Neith, and appears to demonstrate some understanding of the context of these burials, the separation of the outer area from that containing the coffin, and the symbolic burial of Osiris:

Other, older tombs, such as those in the Theban necropolis, were hardly inaccessible. The weighing of the heart scenes in the Theban New Kingdom tombs catalogued in Porter and Moss’ bibliography of the Theban necropolis (Porter and Moss Reference Porter and Moss1960) are generally positioned in a traversal space, in the hall near to the entrance, and appear among other scenes known to have been copied into Late Period tombs.Footnote ⁴⁵ Contacts with distant funerary landscapes such as these probably extended well beyond Psammetichus’ Nubian campaign of 592 bc, which included East Greek and Carian forces (Meiggs and Lewis Reference Meiggs and Lewis1989 no. 7; Agut-Labordère Reference Agut-Labordère and Moreno García2013, 989–95).Footnote ⁴⁶ Under Apries, Neshor of Elephantine, the guardian of the southern border, earned the epithet ‘the one who satisfies the hearts which were angry’ by negotiating that a rebelling southern army, including Greeks and others, would not leave the country and join the Nubians.Footnote ⁴⁷ Even Bahariya's tombs, situated hundreds of kilometres from Memphis, were perhaps not outside of the reach of mercenary forces, considering that Bahariya was a point both of conflict and of rich mercantile exchange between Libya and Egypt during the reign of Apries, when it received royal attention.Footnote ⁴⁸

Concluding that mercenaries and perhaps elite Greeks of the Archaic Period could access tombs across Egypt in such a way that they saw scenes of the weighing of the heart is, therefore, not too great a stretch. It is more difficult, however, to conclude that an artistic study of any detail took place in the context of such a visit. Boardman (Reference Boardman1958), Thorndike-Martin and Vaughan-Nicholls (in Masson Reference Masson1978), and others have shown a range of Greek uses of Egyptian art which suggest close attention to the source material. Firm evidence for ‘sketches’, however, is scarce. A single sherd, described as belonging to a Late Period Aegean amphora, and found discarded in an extensively reused shaft chamber of the Old Kingdom tomb of Ramose at Saqqara, deep in the interior of the superstructure, was used to sketch a rough depiction of a bird-headed deity.Footnote ⁴⁹ However, who made this sketch and whether it truly dates to the Late Period are both uncertain, especially considering Egyptian uses of Greek amphorae. Certainly, there is nothing to support the view that a sketch would be made and kept for some time, or taken out of Egypt, without a clear purpose.

This discussion of Egyptian tombs demonstrates two points. Firstly, an extensive funerary industry existed in the sixth century bc and necessitated the communication, transportation and reproduction of funerary scenes between Egyptian workshops in some portable form which we could roughly describe as a ‘pattern book’. Secondly, it is plausible that Greek experiences of Egyptian funerary landscapes incorporated visits to exterior areas of the tombs of contemporary elites. Such visits may have produced sketches, but may more easily be imagined as having piqued a wider interest in funerary motifs and, thereby, an interest in seeking out what must have been relatively scarce, non-commercial objects bearing the proportions and compositions of tomb painting designs, which we could call ‘pattern books’. There are two obvious problems with such a conclusion. The first is that tomb depictions of the weighing of the heart are often more limited in their composition than the design that the Arcesilas Cup seems to have used as its model. In my study, only Bahariya has shown suitably complex weighing scenes of sixth-century production. A similar problem would face most portable versions of the scene, such as coffins. Though these were frequently painted with the weighing of the heart during Dynasty XX–XXVI (Taylor Reference Taylor, Strudwick and Taylor2003, 95–121; Manassa Reference Manassa2007, 437–45), they tended to include too few elements of the scene to provide the Arcesilas Cup's model.Footnote ⁵⁰ The second, lesser, problem is that the extent of Greek access to the workmen and resources of Egyptian funerary workshops is uncertain, and they may even have been obstructed from copying or taking away sections of the Book of the Dead.Footnote ⁵¹

Funerary papyri could help us to resolve, or at least sidestep, both problems. The Third Intermediate Period and Late Period saw a significant rise in the volume of funerary papyri produced and used in burial contexts (Taylor Reference Taylor and Wendrich2010b, 220–37). These papyri were used by a wider range of social groups than ever before, and increasingly focused on illustrations of funerary texts rather than copying out the text of the spells itself. Representations of the weighing of the heart on funerary papyri are common and often very detailed, so a single papyrus could have contained all the elements argued to have influenced the Arcesilas Cup's decoration. The Papyrus of Nehemesratawy (Fig. 3), for example, contains almost all the major details found on the Arcesilas Cup. Despite their increased production, the correct decoration of these objects was clearly carefully executed. Several Late Period papyri can be found to combine Memphite media with spells originating from the Theban tradition (Mosher Reference Mosher2010, 123–72). This seems to have produced an eventual homogenisation, to an extent, of local theologies and traditions in funerary texts (Taylor Reference Taylor2010a, 272; Manassa Reference Manassa2007). More importantly, it demonstrates that it was not only tomb decoration which was recorded and transported to Memphis to furnish the relocation of officials under Dynasty XXVI, but a wider corpus of designs associated with Theban funerary traditions. Perhaps, considering the division of labour in funerary industries (Goelet Reference Goelet and Schiffman2003, 13–14), those responsible for illustrating the weighing of the heart scenes worked on designing such scenes for a variety of media with overlapping themes (Massana Reference Manassa2007, 411).

A sixth-century pattern book could, therefore, have contained a suitably detailed depiction of the scene to be used as the Arcesilas Painter's model. It still seems unlikely that such objects would be readily available at a market somewhere like Naucratis. However, a Greek whose specific interest in funerary media had already been piqued through engagement, whether first hand or through stories, with the elite funerary culture of Egypt, might well have been able to purchase either a ‘pattern book’ or an actual funerary papyrus, perhaps illicitly acquired during the widespread practice of tomb reuse, clearance and robbery. An alternative, and simpler, narrative would be that the extensive reuse and emptying of tombs in the Late Period, combined with the increased production of funerary papyri, could have resulted in funerary papyri or pattern books reaching a market place for secondary use as writing or wrapping materials. An example showing the weighing of the heart could have caught the eye of a passing traveller or trader, or been accidentally acquired in the purchase of papyrus, and later enjoyed. Papyri, therefore, seem a plausible medium for the transmission of motifs between Egyptian art and the Greeks.

In sum, the Arcesilas Painter was most plausibly informed of the weighing of the heart through a portable model brought to Laconia from Egypt. The acquisition may have been chance, but was perhaps prompted by an interest in the resurgent Egyptian funerary tradition, and especially its elite tombs, which could have been the result either of personal travel or of conversation with other travellers and mercenaries.