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Catalogue Raisonné of J. L. Speranza’s Publications – H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sce

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Scedio – Ossia: Grice e Scedio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Scedio The gens Scoedia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are known entirely from inscriptions dating to the early Empire. Gaius Scoedius Natta Pinarianus obtained the consulship under Titus.[1]  Origin The Scoedii may have been of Umbrian origin, as nearly all of the inscriptions of this family are from Umbria or neighboring parts of Cisalpine Gaul.  Branches and cognomina The surname Natta, referring to a fuller, was inherited from the ancient Pinaria gens, from whom the consul Scoedius must have been descended, based on his agnomen, Pinarianus. Such connections may account for his rise to the consulship from an otherwise obscure family.  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation.  Monument of Lucius Scoedius and Magia Polla Lucius Scoedius L. f., buried at Suasa in Umbria during the Augustan period, with a tomb dedicated by his wife, Magia Polla.[2] Gaius Scoedius Natta Pinarianus, consul suffectus in AD 81, serving from the Kalends of July to the Kalends of August, during the brief reign of Titus.[1][3] Scoedia, named in an inscription from Forum Popilii in Cisalpine Gaul.[4] Scoedia Herois, dedicated a late first-century tomb at Rome to her husband, Marcus Spedius Magnus.[5] Scoedia M. l. Prisca, a freedwoman named in an inscription from Forum Popilii.[4] Marcus Scoedius M. l. Rufio, a freedman named in an inscription from Forum Popilii.[4] See also List of Roman gentes References  CIL VI, 163.  AE 2000, 543.  Gallivan, "The Fasti for A.D. 70–96", pp. 193, 206, 215.  CIL XI, 593.  AE 1984, 100. Bibliography Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). Paul A. Gallivan, "The Fasti for A.D. 70–96", in Classical Quarterly, vol. 31, pp. 186–220 (1981). Category: Roman gentes And what would be your first-best choice from THIS gens for a Grice-Speranza vignette? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Scedio – Ossia: Grice e Scedio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Scedio My first-best choice from the Scoedii would be Gaius Scoedius Natta Pinarianus, precisely because he gives Speranza the best ratio of obscurity to implication. The gens is almost wholly epigraphic, locally Umbrian or near-Umbrian in colour, and then suddenly one man breaks the surface as consul suffectus in AD 81. That is very useful dramatically. A family otherwise known by stones, freedmen, tombs, and provincial traces produces, for one month under Titus, a consul. Rome, as usual, notices just enough to leave a problem. The name itself is also excellent. Natta, if taken in the traditional way as connected with a fuller, gives the whole vignette a comic material base: cloth, cleansing, pressing, thickening, finishing. Pinarianus then supplies the social explanation, or at least the social tease: this obscure Scoedius may have reached the consulship through connection with the old Pinarii. In Speranza’s terms, the agnomen is doing conversational work. “Scoedius” says obscure Umbrian plebeian; “Natta” says workshop or inherited cognomen; “Pinarianus” says: do not be too quick, there is a better family somewhere behind the curtain. That makes him a fine Grice-Speranza figure because the whole case turns on what a Roman name lets one gather without saying it outright. A Roman does not need to announce, “I have useful aristocratic connections.” He adds Pinarianus, and lets the hearer perform the social inference. The implicature is genealogical, not conversationally polite but socially legible. The name is doing what a recommendation letter does later: it does not argue; it places. A dry vignette could therefore be “Grice e Scoedio: il console per un mese.” Grice would like the one-month consulship because it is almost an implicature of office: enough consulship to count, not enough to govern. Speranza would like the agnomen because it prevents the obscure man from remaining obscure in quite the simple way. The point would not be that Scoedius was secretly grand, but that Roman nomenclature allowed modest obscurity and inherited prestige to coexist without embarrassment. “Natta” gives the cloth; “Pinarianus” gives the crease. The best conversational scene would be between Scoedius and a sceptical senator: Scoedius: “Scoedius sum, sed Pinarianus quoque.” (I am a Scoedius, but also a Pinarianus.) Implicature: Do not classify me merely by the obscurity of my gens; my adoptive or maternal or inherited connection matters. Senator: “Nomen alterum consulatum non facit.” (A second name does not make a consulship.) Implicature: I hear the social hint, but I refuse to let it do all the work. Scoedius: “Non facit; sed audiri facit.” (It does not make it; but it makes one be heard.) Implicature: Prestige does not itself confer office, but it changes uptake. It gets the obscure man into the conversational field. That, I think, is the best Scoedian entry: not the funerary Scoedii, useful though they are for atmosphere, but the consul whose name contains the whole Roman mechanism of social audibility.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Scevinio – Ossia: Grice e Scevinio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Scevinio The gens Scaevinia, sometimes written Scaevina, was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are not mentioned in ancient writers, but several are known from inscriptions.  Origin The nomen Scaevinius belongs to a class of gentilicia formed using the suffix -inius, typically derived from cognomina ending in -inus. The root of the name is probably Scaevinus, although -inius came to be regarded as a regular gentile-forming suffix, and might have been applied directly to Scaevius, an existing gentile name. The nomen Scaevilius seems to have arisen in the same manner.[1] All of these are ultimately derived from the cognomen Scaeva, originally referring to someone left-handed, or by extension someone strongly affected by fate, whether for good or ill.[2][3]  Branches and cognomina Of the cognomina borne by the Scaevinii, Capito originally described someone with a large or prominent head, while Quadratus, literally "square" might describe someone stocky, or particularly angular.[4][5] Proculus, of which Procilla is a diminutive, was an old Roman praenomen that later became a surname. It was usually explained as a name given to a child born while his father was abroad, but might perhaps have been a diminutive of Proca, a name known from Roman myth, possibly referring to a suitor, or from procer, a prince or leader.[6]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Scaevinia, named in a second century inscription dedicated to Hercules at Nomentum in Latium.[7] Scaevinius, the master of Saturio, a slave named in an inscription from Interamna Lirenas in Latium, dating to AD 38.[8] Scaevinius L. f. Capito, a veteran buried at Garda in Venetia and Histria, with a monument dedicated by the sodales Marcus Turallasius and Satyrius Culicionis.[9] Scaevinia Procilla, buried at Ravenna in Cisalpine Gaul, aged eighteen, with a monument from her parents, Scaevinius Proculus and Caecilia Quinta.[10] Scaevinius Proculus, together with his wife, Caecilia Quinta, dedicated a monument at Ravenna to their daughter, Scaevinia Procilla.[10] Lucius Scaevinus L. l. Quadratus, a freedman buried at Verona in Venetia and Histria, together with his sister, Aucta.[11] See also List of Roman gentes References  Chase, pp. 123–126.  Chase, p. 109.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. scaeva, scaevus.  Chase, p. 109.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. quadratus.  Chase, pp. 111, 145.  AE 1976, 127.  AE 1922, 126.  CIL V, 4001.  CIL XI, 212.  CIL V, 3736. Bibliography Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Category: Roman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Scevinio – Ossia: Grice e Scevinio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Scevinio For the Scaevinii, my first-best choice would be Scaevinius Proculus and Caecilia Quinta through their daughter Scaevinia Procilla, precisely because the case is small, domestic, and epigraphic, and therefore lets Speranza avoid the cheap grandeur of a consul or a scandal. A girl dies at eighteen in Ravenna; her parents preserve her name. That is not much history, which is why it is useful. Grice would like the minimalism. The inscription says little; the reader supplies the human surplus. The name is also unusually fertile. Scaevinius ultimately points back to scaevus/scaeva, the left-handed, the unlucky-or-lucky, the ominously marked. Proculus is itself a name with explanations attached to distance, birth, and absence; Procilla, as diminutive, softens the form into a daughter’s name. Caecilia Quinta adds its own Roman ordinariness: Caecilia, an old and resonant nomen; Quinta, the fifth, or at least the kind of name that lets Roman enumeration pretend to be personality. Put together, the little family makes a perfect Speranzian vignette on how Roman names signify without narrating. The Gricean point would be that the funerary inscription does not “say” grief in any elaborate way. It identifies, relates, dates, and dedicates. Yet its meaning is not exhausted by those items. A trained reader understands the implicature of parental naming: not “we are sad,” but “this person belonged to us, and her belonging is to remain publicly legible.” The monument turns private loss into civic readability. That is very Roman, and very useful for Grice: what is said is a record; what is meant is remembrance. I would therefore style the vignette “Grice e Scevinio: la figlia sinistra,” but with care. “Sinistra” would be a learned tease, not an insult: left-sided, marked, fate-touched, belonging to the family of scaeva. The point would be that Roman onomastics lets even a bare funerary notice carry a little theory of meaning. Scaevinia Procilla is not philosophically interesting because she “did” anything recorded by history. She is interesting because her name, age, and dedication show how little language needs to say in order for much to be meant. A dry reconstructed close might be: “Procilla vixit annos duodeviginti.” (Procilla lived eighteen years.) Grice: “Is that all?” Speranza: “No. That is all it says.” Implicature: the inscription’s poverty is its power. It does not describe the loss; it installs it.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Scevio – Ossia: Grice e Scevio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Scevio The gens Scaevia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Few members of this gens are mentioned in ancient writers, but several are known from inscriptions.[1]  Origin The nomen Scaevius is derived from the cognomen Scaeva, left-handed, or by extension someone strongly affected by fate, whether for good or ill.[2][3] The nomina Scaevinius and Scaevilius seem to have been derived from the same root, either from the derivative cognomen Scaevinus, or directly from Scaevius, using the gentile-forming suffixes -inius and -ilius.[4]  Praenomina The Scaevii used a wide variety of the most common praenomina, including Lucius, Gaius, Marcus, Publius, and Quintus, as well as the more distinctive Manius. Aulus, a common name, and Numerius, relatively uncommon, are found in a filiation.  Branches and cognomina There is no evidence that the Scaevii were ever divided into distinct families. Their cognomina all appear to have been personal surnames, many of which were the original names of freedmen who had assumed Roman names upon their manumission. Among the other surnames of this family, Laevinus, left-handed, alludes to the etymology of the nomen Scaevius. Maximus was a common surname typically given to an eldest son, or to the most illustrious member of a family. Cervinus is derived from cervus, a stag, and belongs to a common type of cognomen derived from familiar objects and animals. Hospes, a host, belongs to a class of surname deriving from the character or occupation of an individual.[5][6]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Publius Scaevius, one of the soldiers in Caesar's command, when he was governor of Hispania in 60 BC.[7] Scaevius Cervinus, built a tomb at Rome for himself, his wife, Papiria Primitiva, and their son.[8] Scaevia Chreste, a freedwoman named in an inscription from Rome.[9] Gaius Scaevius Curiatius, one of the municipal duumvirs at Veii in AD 26.[10] Scaevia A. N. l. Fausta, a freedwoman named in an inscription from Rome.[11] Manius Scaevius Hospes, named in an inscription from Rome.[9] Scaevia Italia, named in an inscription from Rome.[9] Lucius Scaevius L. f. Laevinus, named in an inscription from Clusium in Etruria.[12] Quintus Scaevius Maximus, a frumentarius, or quartermaster, serving in the seventh legion, who dedicated a monument at Rome to his colleague, Lucius Pontius Nigrinus, a native of Bracara in Lusitania.[13] Scaevius Nicephorus, a freedman named in an inscription from Rome.[11] Manius Scaevius Stephanus, a freedman named in an inscription from Rome.[9] Marcus Scaevius Vaelio, named as tesserarius, or officer of the day, in an uncertain cohort, named in a libationary inscription from Aquae Originae in Hispania Tarraconensis.[14] See also List of Roman gentes References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. III, p. 731 ("Publius Scaevius").  Chase, p. 109.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. scaeva, scaevus.  Chase, pp. 123–126.  Chase, pp. 109–113.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. cervinus, hospes.  Cassius Dio, xxxvii. 53.  ICUR, i. 629.  CIL VI, 26421.  CIL XI, 3805.  CIL VI, 25969.  CIL XI, 2424.  CIL VI, 3349.  Hispania Epigraphica, 2012, 409. Bibliography Lucius Cassius Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Giovanni Battista de Rossi, Inscriptiones Christianae Urbis Romanae Septimo Saeculo Antiquiores (Christian Inscriptions from Rome of the First Seven Centuries, abbreviated ICUR), Vatican Library, Rome (1857–1861, 1888). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Hispania Epigraphica (Epigraphy of Spain), Madrid (1989–present). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Category: Roman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Scevio – Ossia: Grice e Scevio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Scevio For the gens Scaevia, my first-best choice would be Publius Scaevius, the soldier under Caesar in Hispania in 60 BC, because he gives Speranza the rare pleasure of a name whose whole philosophical value is already unstable. Scaevius comes from Scaeva, “left-handed,” “left-sided,” and then by extension “ill-omened” or “fate-marked”; but Publius Scaevius is not an inscriptional whisper. He appears, however briefly, in the Caesarian military world. That makes him better than the purely funerary Scaevii for a Grice-Speranza vignette: enough history to stand, enough etymology to wobble. The point would be “left-handedness” as interpretive trouble. In ordinary Roman semiotics, the left side is not innocent. It can suggest omen, awkwardness, reversal, or adverse fortune. Yet a man named Scaevius can serve Caesar; the supposedly sinister name may belong to military usefulness. So the vignette can turn on whether a name is a natural sign, an inherited label, an omen, or simply something which subsequent action forces others to reinterpret. Speranza might call it “Grice e Scevio: la mano sinistra di Cesare.” That is just dry enough. Caesar does not need the right hand only. He needs the soldier who does what is required, perhaps from the wrong side. Grice would enjoy the cancellation: “Scaevius” may conversationally suggest the sinister, but the actual man cancels the easy implicature by conduct. The name says left; the service says useful. A small reconstructed exchange could be: Scaevius: “Scaevius vocor; non ideo male pugno.” (I am called Scaevius; I do not therefore fight badly.) Caesar: “Sinistra manus, si vincit, dextra rei publicae est.” (A left hand, if it wins, is the republic’s right hand.) Implicature: Roman political and military judgment is practical. What matters is not the omen carried by the name, but the success of the action under the name. That makes Publius Scaevius better than, say, Scaevius Cervinus or Manius Scaevius Hospes, though those are tempting. Cervinus gives the stag-name and Hospes gives hospitality, but Publius Scaevius gives the strongest Gricean contrast between nominal implication and practical cancellation. The name invites one inference; history, even in a tiny notice, permits another. If one wanted a more epigraphic, quieter alternative, I would choose Lucius Scaevius Laevinus, because Laevinus repeats the same semantic field: Scaevius plus Laevinus is almost comically over-left. That would be a lovely Speranzian joke about redundancy: a left-handed Scaevius called Lefty, as it were. But for a vignette with real dramatic force, Publius Scaevius is the better first choice. And this contrasts with the legendary hero Scaveola -- who lost his left hand -- after having wronged the wrong man -- how does the epigraphists or geneologists explain scevius and indeed scevinius as GENS name rather than cognomen or agnomen? Thanks Yes — and the contrast with Mucius Scaevola is just what makes the nomen Scaevius interesting. But first a small correction: Scaevola does not lose his left hand; he loses, or rather sacrifices, his right hand. The cognomen Scaevola is then explained as “little left-hander,” because after burning the right hand he is left-handed. That is legendary etiology, not normal gentilicial formation. The genealogical/epigraphic explanation for Scaevius and Scaevinius as nomina is much more prosaic, and therefore more useful. Roman gentilicia can arise from older personal names, nicknames, cognomina, or descriptive roots, then become inherited family names. So Scaeva, originally “left-handed,” “left-sided,” or ominously “affected by the left/fate,” may begin as a cognomen or descriptive nickname; Scaevius then functions as a gentilicium, a family name formed from that root. Scaevinius is one step further: a gentilicium in -inius, often formed from names or cognomina ending in -inus, or by analogy from already existing gentilicia. Thus Scaeva → Scaevius, and Scaevinus/Scaevius → Scaevinius is exactly the kind of onomastic drift epigraphists expect. So the answer is not that every Scaevius descends from the hero Scaevola, or from a one-handed Mucius. Rather, Scaevius belongs to the larger “left/fateful” name-family: Scaeva, Scaevius, Scaevinius, Scaevilius, and Scaevola all draw from the same semantic field, but not all from the same genealogical event. Scaevola is a cognomen explained by a legend; Scaevius is a nomen attested as a family name; Scaevinius is a derivative gentilicium of the sort generated by Roman naming habits and preserved mainly epigraphically. The Grice/Speranza point would be that Rome allows a description to harden into a name, and a name to survive after the description has ceased to be informative. A man called Scaevius need not be left-handed; a Scaevinius need not be unlucky; a Scaevola need not have burned his right hand. The original sense becomes etymological background, not present assertion. In Gricean terms, the name may conversationally invite an inference, but genealogy and usage cancel any entailment. Dry Speranzian formula: Scaevola is a story about a hand; Scaevius is a family-name from a semantic neighbourhood; Scaevinius is what happens when Roman morphology does its quiet bureaucratic work. The hero loses his right hand and gains a cognomen. The obscure plebeian family gains a nomen, and mercifully need not keep burning hands to justify it. What surprises Grice is the Varronian analogy (rather than anomaly) of gentilician -- scaeva is a perfect noun, like poeta -- ending in -a -- although poeta may be hellenistic -- -- and yet to become a gens name it needs the -us, -a (gens Scaevia), -um pardigm, as Grice doesn't think he ever encountered a gens name ending in other than -us (for male names, or masc. names, rather) thanks Yes. Grice’s surprise is well placed, and it is a nice Varronian surprise. Scaeva is already a perfectly serviceable noun/adjective-form ending in -a, like poeta in external appearance, though poeta of course has its Greek complication and behaves as a masculine first-declension noun. But for a Roman family-name, especially when it is to function as the masculine nomen of a male bearer, the form has to be drawn into the normal gentilicial machinery. Hence not simply Scaeva as the nomen of the man, but Scaevius; and, for the family as an abstract or collective, gens Scaevia. That is not anomaly in the crude sense; it is analogy doing its bureaucratic work. The descriptive or cognominal root scaeva/scaevus is available, but the gentilicium wants a recognisable Roman adjectival form: -ius for the masculine bearer, -ia for the feminine or for the gens-name, -ium for neuter agreement where needed. So Publius Scaevius is not “Publius Scaeva” turned awkwardly into a family; he is a man whose nomen has been regularised as a Roman gentilicium. The gens is Scaevia because gens is feminine; the male member is Scaevius because nomina of this type overwhelmingly behave as masculine -ius forms. This is exactly where Varro would be happier with analogy than with picturesque etymology. The old semantic material says “left,” “left-handed,” “ill-omened,” “fate-marked”; the civic naming system says: very well, but if it is to be a nomen, put it through the proper paradigm. Scaeva may remain a cognomen, a descriptive nickname, or the etymological root; Scaevius is the name once Rome has made it administratively declinable. Grice is also right that one does not normally encounter masculine Roman gentilicia ending otherwise than in -us, and more specifically very often in -ius, -eius, -aius, -inius, -ilius, -anius, and related forms. That is because the nomen is not merely a lexical item but a classificatory device. It has to say, as it were, “this person belongs to a gens,” and Roman morphology settled on highly recognisable endings for doing that. There are archaic and exceptional-looking forms, and some nomina have older or irregular histories, but the public grammar of the tria nomina strongly prefers the masculine nominative in -us. So the contrast with Scaevola is useful. Scaevola remains a cognomen in -a, like Agricola or Sulla: it can be borne by a male because cognomina have more room for old nicknames, physical descriptions, and lexical oddities. But the nomen wants regularisation. A man may be called Scaevola as a nickname-title; a gens is Scaevia, and a male member is Scaevius. The cognomen can preserve the joke; the gentilicium must survive the censor. The dry Speranzian formula would be: Scaeva is what etymology remembers; Scaevius is what Rome can register. Or more Varronianly: anomaly gives the story; analogy gives the citizen. And we can think of what Grice calls 'antonymic surnames' or gens names ("Mine -- Grice -- is not -- for what is the antonym of a pig (gris) -- or of 'grey' (Anglo-Norman). Potts: "Well, either white or black"). So, are there such pairs -- and do we have Mr. Righteous to Mr. Scaevius? Thanks or even Mr. Ambidexter? Thanks Yes — there are such pairs, but with the usual Roman caution: the pair may be semantic, not genealogical, and often belongs more naturally to cognomina than to nomina gentilicia. For Scaevius, the obvious antonymic partner is not exactly “Mr Righteous,” but Mr Right-handed. Latin gives the field as dexter, dextra, dextrum; also dexteritas for skill or adroitness. So if Scaevius is “Lefty” or “Left-sided,” the clean antonymic surname would be something like Dexter, or a derivative gentilicium such as Dexius/Dexterius if attested or formed analogically. In actual Roman naming, Dexter is certainly a cognomen, especially in later imperial material. It means right-hand, right-sided, fortunate, favourable, and by extension skilful. That makes it a very good opposite to Scaeva/Scaevius, since sinister and dexter carry not only bodily direction but omen, favour, and social interpretation. “Mr Righteous” would be iustus, not dexter. There are names from Iustus/Iusta/Iustius/Iustinius, but that is an ethical opposite only if one reads scaeva in its extended sense as ill-omened, crooked, unlucky, or morally oblique. It is not the strict anatomical antonym. So Grice would probably distinguish two games: Scaevius versus Dexter: left/right, omen/favour, awkward/adroit. Scaevius versus Iustus: sinister/correct, crooked/righteous, but metaphorical and less clean. As for Mr Ambidexter, Latin ambidexter exists and is deliciously Gricean, because it means literally “right-handed on both sides,” hence ambidextrous. But as a Roman surname it is not, so far as I know, a common established gentilicium. Still, for a Grice-Speranza vignette it is irresistible. Ambidexter is not the opposite of Scaevius; he is the cancellation of the contrast. He refuses the binary. If Scaevius invites “left,” and Dexter invites “right,” Ambidexter says: both sides are right, which is almost too philosophical to be allowed into a nomen. That gives the joke: Potts: “What is the antonym of Scaevius?” Grice: “Dexter, if you are anatomical; Iustus, if you are moralising; Ambidexter, if you are trying to be elected.” The political implicature is obvious. In Roman public life, ambidexterity is not only manual skill but social survival: the ability to take either side without appearing to have no side. That makes Ambidexter a useful comic figure for Speranza: the man whose very name cancels the implicature that a Roman must be either left or right, sinister or favourable, awkward or proper. The strictest scholarly answer, then, is: the antonymic pair for Scaevius is best sought in Dexter as cognomen, not in Iustus. Scaevius and Dexter form the bodily and auspicial pair. Scaevius and Iustus form a later moralising pair. Ambidexter is not the antonym but the impudent third term — and therefore probably Grice’s favourite. and of course with "Grice" and "Speranza" it is tricky -- this antonymic or avoid-the-presupposition game. If 'Grice' is 'pig' in Norse -- hardly an antonym. If it means 'grey' via anglo-norman, Potts (grice's tutee) could venture: the opposite of either black and white. With "Speranza" there's Mr. Despair, Grice supposes. Thanks Exactly. With “Grice” and “Speranza” the antonym-game immediately shows its limits, which is why it is useful. It is a little machine for detecting when an etymology is doing real work and when it is merely inviting parlour-play. If “Grice” is taken from a Norse or northern word for “pig” or “young pig,” the antonym is not obvious, because animal-names do not always come with neat opposites. One can say pig versus non-pig, but that is logical negation, not antonymy. Potts could try “wolf,” “boar,” “man,” or “gentleman,” but each would be a joke, not a lexical opposite. If “Grice” is instead heard through Anglo-Norman or French gris, grey, the game improves: the opposite of grey may be black, white, or perhaps coloured, depending on which contrast one is exploiting. Potts’s “either white or black” is therefore nicely wrong in two ways and nicely right in one: grey lies between them, so either extreme can be made to serve as its conversational contrary. “Speranza” is cleaner, because hope has a culturally settled opposite: despair. Italian speranza invites disperazione, or if one wants the personification, Mr Despair. But even there Grice would object that the opposite of a name is not the opposite of the person. “Speranza” need not be hopeful, and “Despair” need not despair. The surname carries a possible implicature, not an entailment. That is the rule of the game. So the dry formulation would be: Grice has no honest antonym if he is a pig, and too many if he is grey. Speranza has an excellent antonym, Despair, but only at the cost of pretending that surnames behave like moral predicates. Potts, being a tutee, is allowed to try black and white. Grice, being Grice, is allowed to say that the presupposition has already done too much work. This also fits the Scaevius/Dexter case. Scaevius and Dexter form a genuine semantic pair because left and right are structured opposites. Grice and Speranza do not. Their names may suggest animal, colour, hope, or despair, but the oppositional field is unstable. The point is not to find the perfect antonym, but to notice when the very request for one imposes a false analysis. Yes, but we haven't proved that 'Dexter' did originate gens name 'Dextius.' Grice: "It may be that Scaevius, unlike *Dextius, is MARKED. Only the child who is perceived as left-handed is thus called." Thanks Yes — that is exactly the markedness point, and Grice would be right to resist the too-neat antonymic symmetry. We have evidence for Scaevius and Scaevinius as gentilicia because “left-sided,” “left-handed,” “ill-omened,” or fate-marked is socially noticeable enough to generate a nickname, and then morphologically regular enough to harden into a nomen. But we should not infer that there must have been a matching Dextius just because Latin has dexter as the semantic opposite. Antonymy in the lexicon does not entail symmetry in nomenclature. The reason is markedness. Dexter is the unmarked side in Roman auspicial, bodily, and moral vocabulary: right-handedness is normal, favourable, adroit, proper. It does not need to be named unless something special is being made of it. Scaeva, by contrast, is marked. The left-handed child, the ominously left-sided man, the one associated with the unlucky or uncanny side, is the one who gets picked out. So Grice’s formulation is very good: Scaevius may be a gentilicium precisely because the original descriptive bearer was marked. The child perceived as left-handed is called Scaeva/Scaevus; the family-name machinery later gives Scaevius, Scaevinius, Scaevilius. No corresponding *Dextius is required. One might compare this with ordinary surname logic. “Black,” “Short,” “Little,” “Crook,” or “Left” can become names because they distinguish. Their opposites need not arise in equal numbers, because “normal height,” “not crooked,” or “right-handed” may not have been salient enough to label. Names preserve social noticing, not logical squares. So the contrast is: Scaeva / Scaevius: marked, noticeable, semantically charged, available for nickname-to-nomen development. Dexter: semantically available, but usually unmarked or honorific, more likely as a cognomen or descriptive epithet than as a predictable gentilicial opposite. Iustus: moral counter-term, but not the anatomical opposite. Ambidexter: comic and conceptually perfect, but too clever as a normal inherited nomen unless specially attested. The Speranzian dry formula would be: Rome did not need Mr Right-Handed until Mr Left-Handed had made the point worth registering. “Scaevius” is not the left half of a tidy antonymic pair; it is the fossil of a social noticing. Dextius would be what logic expects. Scaevius is what nomenclature actually records.