Catalogue Raisonné of J. L.
Speranza’s Publications – H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I
Verbali: Ta
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tadio – Ossia: Grice e Tadio
– Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tadio. The gens Tadia was
a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first
mentioned in the time of Cicero, but few achieved any great distinction in the
Roman state.[1] Origin The nomen Tadius
seems to be of Sabine origin. Some of the Tadii known from inscriptions came
from Sabinum, and Chase classifies the name among those gentilicia that were
evidently not Latin, but came from Sabinum, Umbria, or other parts of central
and southern Italy.[2] Praenomina The
Tadii seem to have used a variety of common praenomina, including Publius,
Quintus, Titus, Sextus, and Marcus. One inscription shows that they also used
the Sabine praenomen Attius. Members
This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice,
see filiation. Titus Tadius At. f. Drusus, buried at Amiternum in Sabinum,
along with his wife, Rutilia Rufa.[3][4] Tadius, sought the advice of Titus
Pomponius Atticus with regard to some property that he held. The property was
legally owned by an unmarried girl, for whom a guardian had been appointed; but
Atticus informed Tadius that the property was his by virtue of prescription.
Cicero wrote to remind Atticus that no right of usucaption could exist in the
case of such a ward, and was relieved to hear back that Atticus had settled the
matter out of court, to Tadius' satisfaction.[5] Publius Tadius, a negotiator,
or money-lender, at Athens, who was employed as an agent of Verres in Sicily.
Cicero contrasts his integrity with the low character of his employer. He may
have been the brother of Quintus Tadius, whom Verres also employed.[6][7]
Quintus Tadius, a maternal relative of Verres, who gave evidence of the
latter's unabashed avarice, both through his testimony and his account-books,
which Cicero planned to present in his second action against Verres. As Verres
abandoned his defense and fled into exile, the speech was never
delivered.[8][9] Publius Tadius Chilo, one of the first duumvirs at Caesar's
colony at Corinth, together with Gaius Julius Nicephorus. He may have been the
son, or perhaps less likely the freedman, of the negotiator Publius Tadius, who
lived at Athens.[10] Tadius M. f. Rufus, named in an inscription from a
building in Hispania.[11] Spurius Tadius, a painter of landscape murals during
the time of Augustus. The reading of his name is uncertain; it may instead be
Studius, or even Ludius. Sextus Tadius Sex. f. Lusius Nepos Paullinus, in a
long and productive career under the Flavians or the Antonines, was decemvir
stlitibus judicandis, a military tribune in the Legio IV Flavia Felix, quaestor
in Bithynia and Pontus, curule aedile, governor of Macedonia and Asia,
praefectus frumenti dandi,[i], and proconsul of Africa and Crete and Cyrenaica.
His wife was Mulvia Placida, and they were buried at Trebula Mutusca in
Sabinum.[12][13][14] Notes The prefect
in charge of distributing the grain dole. See also List of Roman gentes
References Dictionary of Greek and Roman
Biography and Mythology, vol. III, p. 972 ("Tadius"). Chase, pp. 128, 129. CIL IX, 4487.
PW, Tadius 3. Cicero, Epistulae
ad Atticum, i. 5, 8. Cicero, In Verrem,
actio II, i. 39 s. 100; ii. 20 s. 49; v. 25.
PW, Tadius 1. Cicero, In Verrem,
actio II, i. 49, 50 s. 128–130; iv. 13 s. 31.
PW, Tadius 2. PW, Tadius 4. PW, Tadius 5.
CIL IX, 4119. PW, Tadius 6. PIR, T. 2.
Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, Epistulae ad Atticum, In Verrem. 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). August
Pauly, Georg Wissowa, et alii, Realencyclopädie der Classischen
Altertumswissenschaft (Scientific Encyclopedia of the Knowledge of Classical
Antiquities, abbreviated or PW), J. B. Metzler, Stuttgart (1894–1980). George
Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in
Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar
Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography
of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Category: Roman gentes
And for this gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tadio – Ossia: Grice e
Tadio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tadio. For Tadius, the
first-best Grice-Speranza vignette is not the grand senator Sextus Tadius
Lusius Nepos Paullinus, though his career is respectable enough to put a
prosopographer in a good mood. The better choice is the otherwise minor Tadius
in Cicero’s correspondence with Atticus, precisely because the whole episode
turns on property, guardianship, prescription, advice, correction, and the
quiet rescue of a legal implicature from going wrong. The point is beautifully
Gricean. Tadius asks Atticus about property legally owned by an unmarried girl
under guardianship. Atticus first advises that Tadius has acquired it by
usucapio, prescription. Cicero then intervenes to remind Atticus that no such
right can arise against a ward in that position. Atticus later settles the
matter out of court, to Tadius’s satisfaction. This gives Speranza a miniature
of conversational jurisprudence: one adviser says, in effect, “you may keep
it”; another says, “not under that description.” The facts are not the only
issue. The legal description under which the facts are to be heard is the
thing. That is why Tadius is better than Publius Tadius the honest negotiator
in the Verrines, or Quintus Tadius the damning relative of Verres, or even
Spurius Tadius the possible landscape painter, charming though he is. The
Atticus-Cicero-Tadius case is made of exactly the sort of material Grice likes:
a practical inference is drawn, an exception blocks it, and the initial advice
has to be conversationally repaired. “The property is his by prescription”
sounds like a conclusion. Cicero’s correction shows that it was a conclusion
drawn under a suppressed premise that fails in the case of a ward. The
implicature of regular possession is cancelled by institutional protection. A
Speranzian vignette could stage Tadius as the man who discovers that ownership
is not merely possession plus time. Roman law, like conversation, depends on
what one is entitled to take for granted. Atticus treats the case under the
ordinary rule; Cicero notices the protected exception. Tadius, sensibly, wants
the property, not a seminar. But the seminar arrives, as seminars do, in the
form of a letter. The result is not litigation but settlement, which is another
reason the case is so good: the conversational correction prevents the forensic
catastrophe. The dry formulation might be this. Tadius is philosophically
useful because he owned, or thought he owned, something in just the way many
speakers mean, or think they mean, something: until a competent party points
out that the background conditions have not been satisfied. Atticus supplies
the helpful but over-hasty inference; Cicero supplies the cancellation; Tadius
receives, one hopes, the diminished but safer benefit. In Gricean terms, the
case is not about land alone. It is about the conditions under which an
apparent entitlement may be reasonably inferred, and the conditions under which
that inference must be withdrawn. So my choice is the unnamed Tadius of Cicero
and Atticus. He is minor, but his very minor-ness helps. He gives Speranza not
a monument, but a move: a small Roman episode in which advice, legal
description, and conversational repair intersect. Tadius asks whether the thing
is his. Atticus says yes. Cicero says, not so fast. And Roman civilisation,
briefly and rather attractively, consists in settling the matter before
everyone has to become public.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tagliabue – Ossia: Grice
e Tagliabue: la ragione conversazionale del Remo, o le strutture del
trascendentale – il concetto di gusto nell’estetica italiana. Note sul contributo al Convegno. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Guido Morpurgo Tagliabue Remo (Milano, Lombardia): la ragione
conversazionale del Remo, o le strutture del trascendentale – Grice’s theory of
reason-governed conversational meaning explains how hearers move from sentence
meaning to speaker meaning by presuming a shared rational enterprise (the
Cooperative Principle and its maxims) and by treating apparent departures from
those norms as evidence of further, intention-based content (implicatures) that
are in principle calculable and cancellable; on this view, the central
explanatory work is done by publicly recognizable communicative intentions plus
shared expectations about rational conduct in talk. Morpurgo-Tagliabue, by
contrast, is best situated within mid‑century Milanese theoretical philosophy
and aesthetics (with formative links to phenomenology, empiricism, and
philosophy of science, and with a postwar philosophical “debut” in works like
Le strutture del trascendentale and Il concetto dello stile that help reorient
Italian aesthetics beyond Crocean idealism): his key concern is not the
micro-pragmatics of conversational inference but the conditions of possibility
for experience, judgement, and value (including aesthetic judgement, “taste,”
and style) at a transcendental level. The most direct point of contact is that
Grice’s account presupposes rational agency in conversational interpretation,
while Morpurgo-Tagliabue thematizes the deeper structures that make rational
and evaluative comportment possible in the first place; however, where Grice
operationalizes rationality as norms governing exchanges of utterances (so that
even talk of “taste” becomes a case of how speakers manage relevance,
evidential force, and communicative intentions), Morpurgo-Tagliabue treats
“taste” and “style” less as conversational achievements than as philosophically
thick mediations between subjectivity and objectivity—forms through which
experience is organized and shared—so that the “reason” at stake is not
primarily the cooperative management of what is meant in interaction but the
transcendental articulation of how meaning, value, and form can be intelligible
at all. -- il concetto di gusto nell’estetica italiana –Nasce da Giovanna
Tagliabue. Non
è noto il nome del padre. Si forma a Milano, all’epoca nel campo
filosofico caratterizzata dalla prevalenza di orientamenti estranei alla linea
idealistica di Croce e Gentile, altrimenti dominante in Italia, e influenzati
invece dalla contemporanea fenomenologia, dall’empirismo e dalla filosofia
della scienza. L’influsso dell’ambiente filosofico milanese è manifesto nelle
opere pubblicate da T. nel secondo dopoguerra, e in particolare in Le strutture
del trascendentale – Milano -- e Il concetto dello stile – Milano --, che ne
costituiscono il vero e proprio esordio filosofico. Infatti negli anni
precedenti gli interessi dello studioso sono stati orientati prevalentemente
verso la critica letteraria e teatrale: collabora alla rivista milanese Il
Convegno, mentre è critico teatrale per La lettura. Altri articoli di critica
letteraria apparvero nel dopoguerra nella rivista La rassegna d’Italia. Negli
ultimi anni del conflitto è in contatto con il movimento Giustizia e Libertà,
ma successivamente abbandona ogni impegno politico e vive una vita appartata.
Insegna estetica a Milano e filosofia teoretica a Trieste. La prima
opera importante di estetica, Il concetto dello stile, rimasta anche la più
sistematica pubblicata da Morpurgo in questo settore, rappresenta un contributo
significativo al rinnovamento degli studi estetici italiani avvenuto quando si
avvertì ormai imperiosa l’esigenza di superare l’impostazione data da Croce a
questo campo. Nell'opera, T. procede innanzitutto a una ricognizione dello
stato degli studi estetici in Italia, un bilancio critico che occupa tutta la
prima metà del saggio. Dopo aver rapidamente ricordato i capisaldi della
dottrina di CROCE, si volge ad analizzare le posizioni critiche nei confronti
di Croce. Romolo, le strutture del trascendentale, concetto del gusto,
estetica. Grice: Professore Tagliabue, sono sempre rimasto affascinato
dal suo approccio alle strutture del trascendentale. In che modo, secondo lei,
il concetto di gusto si intreccia con la filosofia milanese e il rinnovamento
dell’estetica italiana? Tagliabue:
Grazie, Grice! A mio avviso, il gusto non è solo una questione di preferenze
personali, ma rappresenta un autentico momento del trascendentale: è ciò che
consente all’individuo di aprirsi alla dimensione estetica, superando le
vecchie impostazioni crociane. Milano, negli anni del dopoguerra, ha offerto un
terreno fertile per questa rivalutazione, favorendo un dialogo tra
fenomenologia, empirismo e filosofia della scienza. Grice: È interessante! Quindi il gusto diventa una sorta di
ponte tra il soggettivo e l’oggettivo, tra la percezione individuale e i valori
condivisi. Le sue opere, penso a Il concetto dello stile, hanno contribuito a
ridefinire il modo in cui l’estetica italiana affronta proprio questi temi. Tagliabue: Esatto, Grice! Come diceva mia madre, “non basta
vedere, bisogna saper cogliere il senso profondo della bellezza.” Il
trascendentale è lo strumento che ci guida, e il gusto diventa una lente
attraverso cui si rinnova la nostra comprensione estetica. La filosofia
milanese ha avuto il coraggio di superare le rigidità idealistiche e di aprire
nuove strade. Ne sono felice! Tagliabue, Guido Mopurgo (1931). Contributo. Il
Convegno.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Taglialatela – Ossia: Grice
e Taglialatela: la ragione conversazionale degl’istituzioni di filosofia. Note
sugl’Istituzioni di filosofia. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Pietro Taglialatela (Mondragone, Caserta, Campania): la ragione
conversazionale degl’istituzioni di filosofia – Grice’s theory of reason-governed conversational meaning is a general,
explicitly pragmatic account of how hearers infer speaker-meaning from what is
said by presuming rational cooperation: conversational exchanges are treated as
purposive activities regulated by norms (Cooperative Principle and maxims), so
that apparent irrelevance, underinformativeness, or stylistic markedness can be
rationally “explained away” as generating implicatures that are (in principle)
calculable, defeasible, and cancellable while remaining anchored in publicly
recognizable intentions. Pietro Taglialatela (Mondragone, 19th century), by
contrast, belongs to the Italian post-Risorgimento world of institutional
philosophy, civic pedagogy, and confessionally inflected public intellectual
life (Gioberti-inspired “istituzioni di filosofia,” later Protestant polemics
and missionary activity): his work is concerned with founding and legitimating
philosophical formation and moral-political orientation within institutions
(schools, movements, churches), not with offering a technical model of
conversational inference. Read against Grice, Taglialatela’s “ragione
conversazionale” in your staged dialogue is best understood as a metaphor for
how philosophical education and social belonging shape what counts as
intelligible, persuasive, or “liberating” speech within a community—how an
“institution” can be heard either as a cage or as wings—whereas Grice explains
that very shift in uptake as a pragmatic phenomenon: the “institutionalize
them” worry is a textbook case of how an utterance triggers a predictable
interpretive path (a relevance-driven inference from institutional vocabulary
to social control), and Taglialatela’s reply functions like an attempt to
cancel and replace that implicature by supplying an alternative purpose and
frame (“not gabbie but ali”). The upshot is that Grice provides the micro-level
mechanics of meaning-in-interaction (how the hearer gets from words to intended
meaning under rational norms), while Taglialatela represents a macro-level
concern with the cultural and institutional conditions under which
philosophical discourse is cultivated, authorized, and morally
directed—conditions that can motivate, constrain, or rhetorically steer
conversations, but do not themselves amount to Grice’s reason-governed theory
of conversational meaning. Studia a Sessa. Insegna a Cava e Napoli.
S’arruolarsi nelle truppe di GARIBALDI , per predicare i nuovi ideali del
movimento unitario. Dirigge una scuola privata. Riprende e sposa le tesi di
GIOBERTI , che lo affascina. Su questo indirizzo filosofico è stato imperniato
Istituzioni di filosofia, Diogene, Napoli, che riceve le lodi di SPAVENTA. Non
manca, in seguito, avendo aderito al protestantesimo, di compiere opere
missionarie, in particolare in Puglia e in Abruzzo. A tal riguardo è
documentato il viaggio di Pescasseroli sul quale scrisse CROCE, che segnala
anche come e considerato, assieme a MAZZARELLA e CAPORALI, fra i filosofi più
creativi del movimento protestante in Italia. Altre saggi: Apologia delle
dottrine filosofiche di GIOBERTI, Diogene, Napoli, La scienza, la vita e
SANCTIS, Diogene, Napoli, GARIBALDI, Speranza, Roma; Il papa-re nelle profezie
e nella storia, Speranza, Roma, In Dio, Speranza, Roma; Fede, speranza e
caritàm Speranza, Roma; Teoria evangelica della vita, Speranza, Roma, Ciampoli,
T., Unione, Roma; Croce, Pescasseroli, Laterza, Bari; Fiore, Civiltà Aurunca,
Iurato, T.: dalla filosofia del Gioberti all'evangelismo anti-papale,
Claudiana, Torino; Gioberti, Protestantesimo in Italia, Dizionario biografico
dei protestanti in Italia; Società di studi valdesi. Apologia della dottrina di
Gioberti. 03 APOLOGIA DELLA 3 DOTTRINA FILOSOFICA DI V. GIOBERTI PER P.
TAGLIALATELA NAPOLI TIPOGRAFIA ALL' INSEGNA DEL DIOGENE Strada Montesanto num.
14. 1867 Proprietà letteraria ; LE PICCOLE QUISTIONI DIALOGO PRIMO tra L'Autore
e F. Toscano A. Vi ringrazio di gran cuore, professor Toscano, per esser vi
finalmente degnato di rispondere alla critica che circa tre an ni addietro io
mossi contro il vostro CorsoElementare di Fi losofia. T. istituzioni di filosofia. Grice: Professore Taglialatela, lei che ha
saputo fondare una vera scuola di istituzioni filosofiche a Mondragone, mi
dica: qual è il segreto per far fiorire la filosofia anche dove sembra che il
terreno sia duro e poco incline al pensiero?
Taglialatela: Ah, caro Grice, la filosofia è come il vento tra le
colline campane: a volte basta un soffio, altre volte bisogna pazientare e
seminare idee con costanza. E a Mondragone, tra Garibaldi, Gioberti e le nuove
istituzioni, il pensiero si radica proprio quando meno te lo aspetti! Grice: Non lo dico, ma se dovessi tenere un
seminario sulle ‘istituzioni di filosofia’ a Vadum Boum, i barbari che ho come
allievi—nulla a che vedere con quelli di Bononia—penserebbero subito che voglio
‘istituzionalizzarli’, magari metterli in qualche bella scatola
regolamentare! Taglialatela: Bellissima
implicatura, Grice! In fondo, le istituzioni filosofiche non sono gabbie ma
ali: bisogna volare, non farsi imbrigliare! E se qualcuno teme di essere
istituzionalizzato, basta ricordargli che la filosofia, come diceva Gioberti, è
fatta per liberare la mente, non per incatenarla. A Mondragone, si insegna a
ragionare e a sorridere: meglio una scuola che sappia accogliere le differenze,
che una istituzione che le sopprime! Taglialatela, Pietro (1864). Istituzioni
di filosofia. Napoli: Diogene.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Talio – Ossia: Grice e
Talio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Talio. The gens Talia or
Tallia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Hardly any members of
this gens are mentioned by ancient writers, but several are known from
inscriptions. Praenomina The Talii known
from inscriptions used a variety of common praenomina, including Gaius,
Publius, Quintus, and Sextus, without any clear preference. One of the Talii
bore the feminine praenomen Secunda.
Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of
this practice, see filiation. Talia, buried at Salona in Dalmatia, aged about
thirty, in a third-century tomb dedicated by her son-in-law, Primus.[1] Gaius
Talius, buried at Baretium in Cisalpine Gaul.[2] Publius Talius Q. f., a
soldier in the Legio X Gemina, buried at Caurium between AD 37 and 63.[3]
Secunda Talia, named in an inscription from Bononia in Cisalpine Gaul.[4]
Sextus Talius Sex. Ɔ. l. Dionysius, a freedman buried at Rome during the first
half of the first century, with a monument from Talia Psyche.[5] Talius
Geminus, in some manuscripts of Tacitus, the accuser of Fabricius Veiento,
supposedly exiled for libeling the senators and priests of Rome, is probably an
error for Tullius Geminus, and is so amended in some editions.[6][7] Publius
Tallius Onesimus, made an offering at Aquae Sextiae in Gallia Narbonensis.[8]
Tallia Polla, named in an inscription from Corinth in Achaia.[9] Quintus
Tallius Sex. f., an augur named in an inscription from Egitania in Lusitania,
dating between 16 BC and AD 16.[10] Gaius Tallius C. f. Priscus, a veteran of
the Legio XIV Gemina, was buried at Mogontiacum in Germania Superior, aged
forty-eight, having served for twenty-seven years, in a tomb dating between 13
BC and AD 43, and dedicated by his brother, the standard-bearer Publius Atilius
Crispus.[11] Talia Sex. l. Psyche, a freedwoman, dedicated a monument at Rome
for Sextus Talius Dionysius, dating to the first half of the first century.[5]
See also List of Roman gentes References
CIL III, 2545. Pais, Supplementa
Italica, 834. Hispania Epigraphica,
1994, 186. CIL XI, 06707,05. CIL VI, 36399. Tacitus, Annales, xiv. 50. PIR, S. 4.
CIL XII, 511. CIL III,
13692. AE 1961, 349. AE 1979, 433. Bibliography Publius Cornelius
Tacitus, Annales. Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The
Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie
der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Ettore Pais, Corporis Inscriptionum
Latinarum Supplementa Italica (Italian Supplement to the Corpus Inscriptionum
Latinarum), Rome (1884). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in
Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present).
Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii
Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898).
Hispania Epigraphica (Epigraphy of Spain), Madrid (1989–present). Category:
Roman gentes and for THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Talio – Ossia: Grice e
Talio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Talio. For this gens, the
first-best Grice-Speranza choice is Quintus Tallius, the augur from Egitania in
Lusitania. The temptation, of course, is Talia Psyche, because a freedwoman
named Psyche dedicating a monument to Dionysius almost offers too much semantic
perfume. But for Grice and Speranza the augur is better, because augury gives
them not merely a name but a whole Roman theory of sign, uptake, and licensed
inference. Quintus Tallius is obscure enough to be useful. He is not a grand
statesman whose historical noise would drown the philosophical point. He is
named as an augur, and that is the crucial fact. An augur is a public
interpreter of signs, but not in the casual sense in which anyone may say that
clouds mean rain or a bad dinner means a worse evening. The augur reads within
an institution. Birds, directions, silences, interruptions, and auspicial
events do not simply “mean” whatever the nervous spectator imagines. They are
made to count under rules, office, ritual setting, and public uptake. That is
very nearly a Roman grammar of meaning. The Gricean point is immediate. Natural
signs are not enough. A bird may fly, but an augur must determine whether that
flight is to be taken as relevant, admissible, favourable, unfavourable, void,
or procedurally decisive. The bird is not having a chat with the magistrate;
nevertheless, Roman public life behaves as if the sign has entered a
conversation, provided the right human office mediates it. The augur is thus
the man who turns occurrence into authorised significance. He does not create
the bird; he creates the uptake. Tallius is therefore better than the soldier
Publius Talius of Legio X Gemina, better than Gaius Tallius Priscus the
veteran, and better even than the dubious Talius Geminus of the Tacitean manuscript
tradition, who is probably Tullius anyway and so should be returned to his
proper file. Soldiers give service; inscriptions give presence; manuscript
error gives philological comedy. But the augur gives meaning under discipline.
A Speranzian vignette could turn on the smallness of the record. “Quintus
Tallius, augur,” says almost nothing, and therefore, for once, says exactly
enough. The very office supplies the missing philosophy. Speranza may imagine
Grice asking whether the auspices mean in the natural sense, the conventional
sense, or some third Roman sense in which a natural event is made
institutionally conversational. Tallius would reply, if allowed to do so, that
birds do not mean as men mean, but Rome has arranged matters so that their
flight may be taken as a public answer. Grice would then become interested,
because “taken as” is already halfway to pragmatics. The best dry formulation
would be this. In Quintus Tallius the gens Talia contributes not a hero but an
interpreter. That is more than enough. The augur’s art shows that Rome did not
merely observe signs; it licensed them. A crow outside a ritual frame is only a
crow, and perhaps a noisy one. A crow under auspicial conditions may delay an
election, disturb a command, or save a magistrate from doing what he wanted to
do anyway. The point is not ornithology, but authority of uptake. The sign
becomes public because the office makes it answerable. This also lets Speranza
connect Talius or Tallius to the possible pun on talio only with caution. Lex
talionis, retaliation, equal return, is not the etymology of the gens, but it
supplies a useful false friend. Augury too is a kind of return: man asks, sign
answers, magistrate proceeds or stops. Not retaliation, but responsion. The
danger, which Speranza would enjoy, is to make every Roman sign look like a
reply. Grice would object that birds cannot have m-intentions. Speranza would
agree, and then add that Rome cleverly supplied the missing intention by
creating augurs. So my first-choice vignette is Quintus Tallius the augur. The
governing theme would be not “what birds say,” which is vulgar, but “what Rome
is entitled to take them as saying.” That is a sharper and more Gricean
question. It turns a tiny Lusitanian inscription into a miniature theory of
institutional meaning: natural event, ritual frame, authorised interpreter,
public consequence. In other words, an implicature with feathers, but very
properly filed.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tampio – Ossia: Gice e
Tampio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tampio. The gens Tampia
was a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first
mentioned in history during the time of Nero, but few achieved any distinction
in the Roman state. The nomen Tampius is easily confused with that of Ampius.
The most illustrious of the Tampii was Lucius Tampius Flavianus, who held the
consulship twice during the latter half of the first century.[1][2] Origin The earliest Tampii known from
inscriptions came from Praeneste, an ancient city of Latium, probably
indicating that they were Latins; but at least three of this gens bore the
cognomen Sabinus, typically indicating a tradition of Sabine descent, or some
other association with Sabine manners or appearance.[3] Praenomina The main praenomina of the Tampia
gens were Lucius and Gaius, the two most common names at all periods of Roman
history. Several Tampii also bore other common praenomina, such as Marcus,
Publius, and Quintus, while a few had more distinctive names, such as Decimus
and Servius. Members This list includes
abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation.
Lucius Tampius, named in an inscription from Praeneste in Latium, dating to the
latter half of the third century BC.[4] Gaius Tampius D. f., named in an
inscription from Praeneste, dating to the late third century BC.[5] Marcus Tampius
C. f., named in an inscription from Praeneste, dating to the late third century
BC.[6] Marcus Tampius M. f., named in an inscription from Praeneste, dating to
the late third century BC.[7] Tampia C. f., named in an inscription from
Praeneste, dating to the second century BC.[8] Gaius Tampius C. f. Ser. n.
Tarenteinus, praetor at Praeneste, made an offering to Hercules, commemorated
in an inscription dating to the latter half of the second century BC.[9] Tampia
L. f., made an offering to Jupiter at Patavium in Venetia and Histria, dating
to the early first century BC.[10] Lucius Tampius, named in a bronze
inscription from Aquileia in Venetia and Histria, dating from the first half of
the first century BC.[11] Tampia L. l. Stratonice, buried in a family sepulchre
at Rome, dating from the first century BC, and dedicated by Euhodus, a
margaritarius, or dealer in pearls, in the Velabrum, perhaps Tampia's
husband.[12][13] Lucius Tampius L. l. Papa, a freedman buried at Rome, in a
tomb dedicated by Tampia Prima, dating between 50 BC and AD 30.[14] Tampia L.
l. Prima, a freedwoman who dedicated a tomb for Lucius Tampius Papa, dating
between 50 BC and AD 30.[14] Lucius Tampius L. f. Peccio, dedicated a family
sepulchre at Sena Gallica in Umbria for himself, his wife, Maxima Oppia, and
Quintus Oppius, dating from the latter half of the first century BC, or the
first half of the first century AD.[15] Lucius Tampius Acutus, husband of the
freedwoman Safinia Agathemeris, named in an inscription dating from the first
half of the first century.[16] Gaius Tampius Cliens, named in an inscription
from Asculum in Picenum, dating between AD 16 and 50.[17] Tampia Ɔ. l., a
freedwoman buried in a first-century tomb at Canusium in Apulia, dedicated by
the freedwoman Tampia Fa[...] for herself and her family.[18] Lucius Tampius,
one of the municipal duumvirs at Casilinum in Campania during the first
century.[19] Gaius Tampius C. l. Chaeria, a freedwoman buried at Canusium, in a
first-century tomb dedicated by Tampia Hilara, with whom he had been freed.[20]
Gaius Tampius C. l. Eros, a freedman buried at Canusium, in a first-century
tomb dedicated by his client, the freedwoman Tampia Hilara.[20] Tampia D. l.
Fa[...], a freedwoman and the wife of Sextus Aburius, dedicated a first-century
family sepulchre at Canusium for herself, her son, also named Sextus Aburius,
and another freedwoman named Tampia.[18] Tampia C. l. Hilara, a freedwoman who
dedicated a first-century tomb at Canusium for her patron, Gaius Tampius Eros,
and her fellow freedman, Gaius Tampius Chaeria.[20] Lucius Tampius L. l.
Ingenuus, a freedman buried in a first-century tomb at Rome, along with his
wife, Crassicia Helpis.[21] Tampia Priscilla, along with her husband, Lucius
Volusius Zosimus, dedicated a tomb for Zosimus parents, the elder Lucius
Volusius Zosimus, and Volusia Stratonice, nurse of the pontifex Lucius Volusius
Saturninus, dating between AD 30 and 70.[22] Gaius Tampius Sabinus, prefect and
tribune of the plebs at Pompeii in Campania.[23] Tampia Ɔ. l., a freedwoman
buried in a first-century tomb at Rome, along with the freedman Lucius Tampius
Vitalis, according to an inscription of dubious authenticity.[24] Lucius
Tampius Ɔ. l. Vitalis, a freedman buried in a first-century tomb at Rome, along
with the freedwoman Tampia, according to an inscription of dubious
authenticity.[24] Tampia Hygia, dedicated a tomb at Rome, dating from the reign
of Nero, for her son, Tiberius Claudius Tiberinus, a freedman of the
emperor.[25] Lucius Tampius Flavianus,[i] was consul suffectus in an uncertain
year during the reign of Nero, then governor of Africa and Pannonia. He was a
general of some achievement, and received the triumphal ornaments for his
victories. During the Year of the Four Emperors, Tampius took the side of
Vespasian, although he was connected by marriage to Vitellius. He was accused
of treachery, but absolved by Vespasian, who raised him to the consulship again
in AD 76.[26][27][28][29][1][2] Lucius Tampius Rufus, a kinsman of Lucius
Tampius Flavianus, although the nature of their relationship is unclear from
the fragmentary inscription in which he is mentioned.[28][30] Tampia Venusta,
buried at Casinum in Samnium, along with her husband, Quintus Venafranius
Probus, in a tomb dating from the first century, or the early part of the
second.[31] Publius Tampius Verecundus, buried at Casinum, in a first- or
second-century tomb dedicated by his children, Vettia Zmyrna and Tampilus
Verecundinus.[32] Tampius, dedicated a tomb at Florentia in Etruria for his
daughter, Quadratilla, dating to the latter half of the first century, or the
first half of the second.[33] Quintus Tampius Terminalis, buried at Rome in a
tomb dedicated by Tampia Urbica, dating to the late first century, or the first
half of the second.[34] Tampia Urbica, dedicated a tomb at Rome for Quintus
Tampius Terminalis, dating to the late first century, or the first half of the
second.[34] Lucius Tampius, a soldier stationed at Rome around AD 135.[35]
Tampius Rufinus, prefect of the Cohors II Flavia Commagenorum, a cohort of
auxilia recruited from Commagene and stationed in Dacia, made a second-century
offering to Diana at Micia, a Roman fort in Dacia.[36] Gaius Tampius Sabinus,
mentioned in a second-century inscription from Ferentinum in Latium.[37]
Tampius Secularis, buried at Salona in Dalmatia, aged about seventy, in a
third-century tomb dedicated by his son, Tampius Marcellus.[38] Tampius
Marcellus, dedicated a third-century tomb at Salona for his father, Tampius
Secularis.[38] Undated Tampii Tampia L. f., made an offering to Jupiter at
Aquileia.[39] Lucius Tampius Alypus, dedicated a tomb at Rome for himself and
his wife, Pontia Secunda.[40] Tampia Ɔ. l. Auge, a freedwoman named in an
inscription from Aquinum in Latium.[41] Gaius Tampius Diophantus, a freedman buried
at Musarna in Etruria.[42] Quintus Tampius Hermeros, dedicated a tomb at Pisae
in Etruria for his wife of eighteen years, Scribonia Hedone.[43] Tampia C. f.
Sabina, a woman buried at Musarna.[44] Notes
Erroneously called Titus Ampius or "Amplius Fabianus" in some
sources. See also List of Roman gentes References Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and
Mythology, vol. II, p. 169 ("T. Ampius Flavianus"). PIR, T. 5.
Chase, p. 114. CIL XIV,
3264. CIL XIV, 3265. CIL XIV, 3266. CIL XIV, 3267. CIL XIV, 3270. CIL XIV, 2890. CIL V, 2799. Epigrafia della produzione e della
distribuzione, p. 637. CIL VI,
37803. AE 1907, 129. CIL VI, 27101. CIL XI, 6215.
NSA, 1923-370. CIL IX, 5190. AE 1972, 128.
CIL X, 3822. AE 1986, 194. CIL VI, 4656.
CIL VI, 7393. CIL IV, 3872, CIL
IV, 9952. CIL VI, 12352. CIL VI, 10097. Tacitus, Historiae, ii. 86, iii. 4, 10. CIL VI, 2051.
CIL X, 6225. AE 1973, 162. PIR, T. 6.
CIL X, 5297. AE 1971, 114. CIL XI, 1639.
CIL VI, 27102. CIL VI, 2375. AE 1977, 706.
CIL X, 5848. CIL III, 2547. CIL I, 2171b.
CIL VI, 27100. CIL X, 5490. CIL XI, 3034.
CIL XI, 1491. CIL XI, 3035. Bibliography Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Historiae. 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). Notizie degli Scavi
di Antichità (News of Excavations from Antiquity, abbreviated NSA), Accademia
dei Lincei (1876–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). Paul von Rohden, Elimar
Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography
of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Epigrafia della
produzione e della distribuzione (Epigraphy of Production and Distribution),
Rome (1994). Category: Roman gentes
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tampio – Ossia: Gice e
Tampio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tampio. For the gens
Tampia, the first-best Grice-Speranza choice is plainly Lucius Tampius
Flavianus. He is the one figure here in whom the minor plebeian name becomes
historically audible, and the reason is not only that he held the consulship
twice. It is that his career turns on the most Gricean of imperial questions:
what does loyalty mean when every visible allegiance is liable to be
redescribed as treachery? The biography almost writes the vignette. Tampius
Flavianus is connected by marriage to Vitellius, yet in the Year of the Four
Emperors he takes the side of Vespasian. He is then accused of treachery, but
Vespasian absolves him and later raises him again to the consulship. That is
ideal material. The same facts permit two competing descriptions. To one audience,
he is a turncoat. To another, he is a prudent supporter of the future
settlement. To Vitellians, connection by marriage should have implicated
loyalty; to Flavian eyes, conduct has cancelled that implication. The case is
therefore not merely political but semantic. What counts as fidelity: kinship,
marriage-alliance, current advantage, military judgment, or successful
retrospect? Speranza would enjoy the fact that the nomen itself is easily
confused with Ampius. Even the name is unstable at the margins. Tampius or
Ampius, Flavianus or Fabianus, loyalty or treachery: the entry keeps generating
misreadings. But the main philosophical point is the imperial management of
uptake. Flavianus tries to make his conduct mean loyalty to Vespasian; his
enemies try to make the same conduct mean betrayal of Vitellius. Vespasian’s
absolution is the decisive conversational act, because the princeps fixes the
official interpretation. Once Vespasian says, in effect, “this was not
treachery,” the same career becomes service rather than perfidy. A Speranzian
vignette could stage Flavianus before Vespasian after the accusation. Flavianus
says that he followed not fortune but the res publica. The accuser says that a
man related to Vitellius has betrayed his household. Vespasian answers that
kinship does not outvote judgment. The implicature is clear enough: under civil
war, every man’s loyalty is discovered only after one knows who has survived to
interpret it. A very Roman truth, and not a pretty one. Compared with the other
Tampii, Flavianus is the strongest choice. Gaius Tampius Sabinus at Pompeii is
local and potentially pleasant, the early Praenestine Tampii are useful for
antiquity of the name, and the freedmen and freedwomen give good epigraphic
texture. But Flavianus gives action, risk, imperial suspicion, accusation,
acquittal, and reclassification. He lets Grice and Speranza ask how a public
act acquires its official meaning when the context is civil war and the
interpreter is an emperor. The dry formula would be this: Lucius Tampius
Flavianus is a minor-name man caught in a major-name crisis. He means loyalty;
his enemies hear betrayal; Vespasian supplies the uptake. In a republic that
might have been argument. Under the Flavians it becomes judgment. That is why he
is the best Tampius for a Grice-Speranza vignette: he shows that in imperial
politics, as in conversation, what one meant is important, but who is
authorised to say what one meant may matter even more.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tanizio – Ossia: Gricee
Tanizio – Grex griceiana—Tanizio. The gens Tanicia
was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. No members of this gens are
mentioned by ancient writers, but a few are known from inscriptions. Origin The nomen Tanicius seems to belong to
a class of gentilicia formed from cognomina ending in -ex or -icus, but no
corresponding surname is known.[1]
Branches and cognomina The only regular surname associated with the
Tanicii is Verus, meaning "true" or "just".[2] It belongs
to a class of surnames originally derived from the character or habits of an
individual.[3] Zosimus, borne by one of the Tanicii, is a Greek name, and would
have been a personal surname, possibly the birth name of a freedman of one of
the Tanicii, retained by him as a cognomen after his manumission. Members This list includes abbreviated
praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Lucius Tanicius
L. f. Verus, a native of Vienna in Gallia Narbonensis, was a centurion in the
Legio III Cyrenaica, stationed in Egypt in AD 80 or 81.[4] Lucius Tanicius
Verus, prefect of a Roman fort along the Antonine Wall in northern Britain, at
the site of modern Cadder, in the middle or later part of the second century.
An inscription records his offering to Silvanus.[5] Lucius Tanicius Zosimus,
made a cult offering to the Hero of Ithiostla in Moesia Inferior, dating to the
first half of the second century.[6] See also List of Roman gentes
References Chase, p. 126. New College Latin & English Dictionary,
s.v. verus. Chase, pp. 110, 111. CIL III, 34.
CIL VII, 1124. AE 1908, 137.
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 for THIS gens? thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tanizio – Ossia:
Gricee Tanizio – Grex griceiana—Tanizio. For Tanicius, the
first-best Grice-Speranza choice should be Lucius Tanicius Verus, the prefect
on the Antonine Wall who made an offering to Silvanus. The centurion in Legio
III Cyrenaica is attractive, and Egypt under a Cyrenaican legion has its own
charm, but the Cadder inscription is sharper: a Roman officer at the northern
edge of the empire, bearing the cognomen Verus, making a dedication to a god of
woods, boundaries, and uncultivated spaces. For Grice and Speranza, that is
almost too neat. Verus carries the promise of truth; the frontier supplies the
test of what counts as Romanly true when Rome has reached the limit of its own
voice. The vignette would turn on Verus as a name and as a claim. Verus means
true, genuine, reliable, just. But on the Antonine Wall, “true” is not a
metaphysical luxury. It is a military, administrative, and religious problem.
Is this boundary truly Rome? Is the fort truly held? Is the offering truly
Roman piety, or a negotiated gesture toward a landscape that Rome has not fully
converted into civic speech? The dedication to Silvanus is therefore ideal.
Silvanus is not Jupiter in the Capitol. He is a god of woods, margins, fields,
and border-zones. A prefect dedicating to Silvanus at Cadder is not merely
being devout; he is trying to make a frontier intelligible under Roman ritual
description. The Gricean theme is that an inscription says very little and
means a good deal. “Lucius Tanicius Verus dedicated this to Silvanus” is, on
the surface, a pious formula. But its recoverable content is richer: here is a
Roman officer declaring presence, order, and recognisable piety at the edge of
a not-quite-domesticated world. The stone does not merely record devotion; it
performs Roman uptake. It tells soldiers, passers-by, local observers, and
perhaps the god himself that this place has been entered into a Roman system of
signs. The forest is not abolished; it is addressed. Speranza would enjoy the
dry pun that Verus, the true man, serves where truth needs posts, walls,
dedications, and garrisons. In Oxford one may ask what a speaker means; at
Cadder one asks what an empire means by a wall. A wall appears to say “stop,”
but politically it may mean “here Rome still counts,” or “beyond this point
Rome prefers not to be misunderstood.” The dedication to Silvanus adds the
softer implicature: the limit is not only military but religiously negotiated.
Rome does not merely build; it asks the local divine grammar to notice. Lucius
Tanicius Zosimus is tempting because a Greek cognomen making a cult offering in
Moesia gives a nice freedman-or-eastern-religious angle; and Lucius Tanicius
Verus the centurion in Egypt has decent military clarity. But the Antonine Wall
prefect is better because he combines name, office, frontier, inscription, and
god in one compact case. He lets Speranza make the whole gens speak through
almost nothing: a true Tanicius, at the edge of Roman Britain, dedicating to
the god of the spaces Rome has not quite turned into Rome. The dry closing
would be: Tanicius Verus is the right Tanicius because he makes veritas
provincial, military, and epigraphic. He does not write a treatise on truth. He
leaves a dedication at a fort. That is more Roman, and in some ways more
Gricean. The inscription says thanks to Silvanus; it means, among other things,
that Rome has found a way to speak at the boundary.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tannonio – Ossia: Grice e
Tannonio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tannonio. The gens
Tannonia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Few members of this
gens are mentioned in Roman literature, but many are known from
inscriptions. Origin The nomen Tannonius
belongs to a large class of gentilicia ending in -onius, originally derived
from cognomina ending in -o, but subsequently derived from a variety of names,
after -onius had come to be regarded as a regular gentile-forming
suffix.[1] Praenomina Nearly half of the
Tannonii whose praenomina are recorded bore the name Lucius, the most abundant
praenomen at all periods of Roman history. The remainder used a variety of
other common names, including Gaius, Quintus, Marcus, Publius, Gnaeus, and
Titus. Branches and cognomina Although
some of the Tannonii appear in inscriptions from Rome and elsewhere in Italy,
the great majority are known from Roman colonies in the north African provinces
of Africa Proconsularis, Mauretania Caesariensis, and Numidia, particularly
Lambaesis, where the name appears from the second century onward. The Tannonii
used a wide variety of common surnames without any apparent pattern, except
that many of them bore the surname Felix, meaning "fortunate" or
"happy".[2] Members This list
includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation.
Tannonia Valentina, the wife of Marcus Antonius, with whom she dedicated a tomb
at Novae in Moesia Inferior, dating from the latter half of the first century,
for their children, Marcus Antonius Valentinus and Antonia Aprulla.[3]
Tannonius Marcellus, buried at Ammaedara in Africa Proconsularis, aged seventy,
in a tomb built by his son, Tannonius Sterceius, dating from the first or early
second century.[4] Tannonius Sterceius, built a first- or early second-century
tomb for his father, Tannonius Marcellus, at Ammaedara.[4] Lucius Tannonius,
named in a list of decurions at Rome, dating from the reign of Antoninus
Pius.[5] Lucius Tannonius, a native of Lambaesis in Numidia, was a soldier in
the Legio II Augusta, and killed in battle. His wife, Macrinia, and their
children built a second-century tomb for him at Lambaesis.[6] Tannonius
Maximus, a cavalry prefect named in a second-century dedicatory inscription
from modern Gherla, formerly part of Dacia.[7] Tannonius Pudens, a lawyer who
brought forward the accusation of Sicinius Pontianus against Apuleius. Apuleius
had married Sicinius' mother, Pudentilla, a woman of considerable wealth;
Sicinius' father-in-law, Herennius Rufinus, urged him to sue Apuleius and
prevent him from obtaining Prudentilla's money, alleging that Apuleius had
seduced Prudentilla using magic. Apuleius' successful defense formed the basis
of his Apologia.[8][9] Quintus Tannonius Primus, a native of Uthina in Africa
Proconsularis, was a veteran of the Legio II Traiana Fortis, listed in an
inscription of Nicopolis in Roman Egypt, dating from AD 157. He served in the
tenth cohort, and the century of Antonius Nereus.[10] Tannonius, one of the
patrons of a guild at Ostia in Latium, dating from AD 165.[11] Gnaeus Tannonius
Ingenuus, a youth buried alongside his mother, Gavia Sassa, in a second- or third-century
tomb at Carthage, aged sixteen years, three months, and nineteen days.[12]
Tannonia Veneria, dedicated a tomb for her son, Lucius Neapolitanus Liberalis,
at Puteoli in Campania, dating from the second century, or the first half of
the third.[13] Marcus Tannonius Gerinianus, the student of Julius Augurius, was
a young man buried at Puteoli, aged eighteen years, eight months, and five
days, in the latter half of the second century, or the first half of the
third.[14] Tannonius Victor, listed amongst a group of donors to a monument at
Lambaesis, dating to AD 200.[15] Lucius Tannonius Primus, a soldier in the
fifth cohort of the vigiles at Rome in AD 205, serving in the century of
Antullus.[16] Lucius Tannonius Saturninus, a soldier in the fifth cohort of the
vigiles in AD 205, serving in the century of Verinus.[16] Lucius Tannonius
Felix, a soldier in the fifth cohort of the vigiles in AD 210, serving in the
century of Caesernius Senecio. Perhaps the same Lucius Tannonius
"Felixs" mentioned in an earlier portion of the same inscription,
dating from 205, and listing soldiers in the cohort of Antullus, or the Lucius
Tannonius Felix serving in the century of Verinus, also in 205.[16] Lucius
Tannonius Fi[...], a soldier in the fifth cohort of the vigiles in AD 210,
serving in the century of Ulpius Rutilianus.[16] Tannonius Laetus, a
duplicarius, or soldier entitled to double-pay, serving in the Legio III
Augusta at Lambaesis, during the reign of Elagabalus.[17] Lucius Tannonius
Donatus, buried at Auzia in Mauretania Caesariensis, aged sixty, together with
his wife, Flavia Quarta, aged fifty. Both are named in a dedicatory
inscription, dating from AD 235.[18] Tannonius Felix, a boy buried at Thugga in
Africa Proconsularis, aged eleven, in a tomb dating between the middle of the
second century, and the end of the third.[19] Gaius Tannonius Sabbatius, one of
the municipal officials at Ostia in AD 242.[20] Publius Tannonius Saturninus,
mentioned in a list of names from Lambaesis.[21] Titus Tannonius Concordius, a
member of a guild at Ostia in AD 262.[22] Tannonius Victor, deacon of a church
at Altava in Mauretania Caesariensis, mentioned in an inscription dating from
AD 309, along with Tannonius Rufinianus and Lucius Tannonius Rogatus.[23]
Tannonius Rufinianus, named in an inscription from Altava dating from AD 309,
along with Tannonius Victor and Lucius Tannonius Rogatus.[23] Lucius Tannonius
Rogatus, named in an inscription from Altava dating from AD 309, along with
Tannonius Victor and Tannonius Rufinianus.[23] Tannonius Felix, flamen of
Zattara in Africa Proconsularis during the reign of Constans I and Constantius
II, in the mid-fourth century.[24] Tannonius Chrysantius, a Roman senator, had
been governor of Byzacena. His eponymous son is known from inscriptions from
Campania.[25] Tannonius Chrysantius, son of the governor Chrysantius, is
described as a vir perfectissimus, a high-ranking eques, named in an
inscription from Liternum in Campania, dating to the reign of Valentinian I or
Valens, and several inscriptions from Puteoli.[26][25][27] Tannonius Monimus,
along with his brothers, Tannonius Januarius and Tannonius Victor, dedicated a
late fourth-century tomb at Numerus Syrorum in Mauretania Caesariensis for
their mother, Valeria Julia.[28] Tannonius Januarius, along with his brothers,
Tannonius Monimus and Tannonius Victor, dedicated a late fourth-century tomb at
Numerus Syrorum for their mother, Valeria Julia.[28] Tannonius Victor, along
with his brothers, Tannonius Monimus and Tannonius Januarius, dedicated a late
fourth-century tomb at Numerus Syrorum for their mother, Valeria Julia.[28]
Tannonius, buried at Rome in AD 484, aged thirty-two years, thirteen days.[29]
Undated Tannonii Tannonius, the husband of Valeriana, and father of Tannonius,
a young boy buried at Arelate in Gallia Narbonensis.[30] Tannonius, the son of
Tannonius and Valeriana, a little boy buried at Arelate, aged six years, six
months, and six days.[30] Quintus Tannonius, named in a sepulchral inscription
from Venusia in Samnium.[31] Quintus Tannonius, a native of Mina in Mauretania
Caesariensis, where he was buried, aged fifty, in a tomb dedicated by his son,
Quintus Marcus Tannonius.[32] Quintus Marcus Tannonius Q. f., a soldier in the
Legio III Augusta, dedicated a tomb at Mina for his father, Quintus
Tannonius.[32] Tannonius Adiutor, buried at Thugga.[33] Tannonia Annibonia, a
woman buried at Carthage, aged thirty-two, in a tomb dedicated by her
husband.[34] Tannonia Antonia, the daughter of Tannonius Felix, married
Valerius Processus, and was the mother of Valerius Antonius. She was buried at
Caesaria in Mauretania Caesariensis, aged twenty-six, along with her father and
son, in a family sepulchre built by her husband.[35] Gaius Tannonius Celer,
buried at Ucubi in Africa Proconsularis, aged ninety-one, alongside Julia
Saturnina, perhaps his wife, aged sixty-five.[36] Lucius Tannonius Claudianus,
buried at Castellum Elefantum in Numidia, aged twenty-five.[37] Lucius
Tannonius Crescens, a native of Cirta, mentioned in an inscription from Lambaesis.[38]
Lucius Tannonius Crescens, named in a sepulchral inscription from Milevum in
Numidia.[39] Tannonia Q. f. Cyrilla, buried at Tiddis, aged thirty-three, with
a monument from her husband.[40] Tannonia Dativa, along with Julius Primus,
dedicated a monument at Lambaesis to her brother, Tannonius Donatus.[41]
Tannonia Donata, buried at Mactaris in Africa Proconsularis, aged sixty.[42]
Tannonius Donatus, a soldier in the Legio III Augusta, buried at Lambaesis,
aged thirty-five, with a monument from Julius Primus and Tannonia Dativa, his
sister.[41] Tannonia Faustina, buried at Castellum Fabatianum in Numidia, aged
forty, with a monument from her brother, Gaius Julius Honoratus.[43] Lucius
Tannonius Faustinus Artius, buried at Bulla Regia in Africa Proconsularis, aged
sixty-five years, nine months, and ten days.[44] Tannonia Felicia, buried at
Thala in Africa Proconsularis, aged thirty-five, alongside Elius Felix, perhaps
her husband.[45] Tannonius Felix, the father of Tannonia Antonia, and
grandfather of Valerius Antonius, alongside whom he was buried at Caesaria in
Mauretania Caesariensis, aged forty-eight, in a tomb built by his son-in-law,
Valerius Processus.[35] Gaius Tannonius L. f. Felix, a young soldier buried at
Lamphua in Numidia, aged twenty-one.[46] Marcus Tannonius Felix, a priest of
Saturn, named in a dedicatory inscription from Soliman in Africa
Proconsularis.[47] Tannonius Felix Primianus, caretaker of the temple of
Mercury at Tapphugabensis in Africa Proconsularis.[48] Tannonia Fortunata, buried
at Thala, alongside Marcus Duresius Barachianus, perhaps her husband.[49]
Tannonia Honorata, buried at Castellum Elefantum, aged forty-one.[50] Marcus
Tannonius Jucundus, a young man buried at Lambaesis, aged nineteen, with a
monument from someone named Silvanus.[51] Tannonia Juliosa, buried at Castellum
Elefantum, aged thirty-eight.[52] Publius Tannonius Justus, buried at Capsa in
Africa Proconsularis, aged forty-three. Tannonius Saturninus is buried in the
same tomb.[53] Gnaeus Tannonius Major, an adiutor, or assistant, buried at
Lambaesis, aged forty-five. He left his heirs a thousand sestertii, from which
they erected his monument.[54] Tannonia Paterna, a girl buried at Beneventum in
Samnium, aged twelve years, four months, in a tomb built by her parents,
Flavius Successus and Terentia Hermione.[55] Tannonia Rogata, buried at
Castellum Elefantum, aged twenty-five.[56] Tannonia Romana, buried at
Lambaesis, aged thirty-eight, with a monument from her husband, Julius
Sedatus.[57] Publius Tannonius Salutaris, buried at Lambaesis, with a monument
from his son, Tannonius Speratus.[58] Tannonia Saturnina, a young woman buried
near the current site of Ain Kela Bou Seba in Algeria, formerly part of Africa
Proconsularis, aged thirteen years, ten months, and fifteen days, in a tomb
dedicated by her parents.[59] Tannonius Saturninus, buried at Capsa, in the
same tomb as Publius Tannonius Justus.[53] Gaius Tannonius C. f. Saturninus, a
young man buried alongside his father, Gaius Tannonius Victor, at Calama in Africa
Proconsularis, aged twenty-three, in a family sepulchre built by his mother,
Julia.[60] Tannonius Secundus, named in a list of soldiers at Lambaesis in
Numidia.[61] Gaius Tannonius Secundus, a young man buried at Lambaesis, aged
twenty, with a monument from his parents.[62] Lucius Tannonius Secundus, named
in an inscription from Portus in Latium.[63] Tannonius P. f. Speratus,
dedicated a monument at Lambaesis for his father, Publius Tannonius
Salutaris.[58] Tannonia Tertulla, a young woman buried at Thugga, aged
fifteen.[64] Tannonia Tue,[i] a girl buried at Castellum Fabatianum, aged
seven.[65] Lucius Tannonius Urbanus, buried at Castellum Elefantum, aged
eighty.[66] Tannonia Valeria, dedicated a tomb at Lambaesis for her husband,
Quintus Mallius Donatus, aged seventy-five, who had been one of the
duumvirs.[67] Tannonia Valeria, dedicated a tomb at Lambaesis for her husband,
Marcus Marius Saturninus, aged forty-one.[68] Gaius Tannonius Victor, buried
alongside his son, Gaius Tannonius Saturninus, at Calama, aged seventy-five, in
a family sepulchre built by Saturninus' mother, Julia.[60] See also List of
Roman gentes Notes The surname is
probably erroneously written; the correct form is not apparent. References Chase, p. 118. Chase, p. 111. AE 1914, 92.
CIL VIII, 428. CIL VI, 1220. CIL VIII, 2980. CIL III, 832.
Apuleius,
Apologia, c. 4. PIR, vol. III, p. 295
(T., No. 9). AE 1955, 238. CIL XIV, 4564. AE 1968, 557.
CIL X, 2767. AE 2007, 381. AE 1902, 10.
CIL VI, 1057. CIL VIII,
2464. CIL VIII, 9163, CIL VIII, 9016. MAD,
1549. CIL XIV, 4559. CIL VIII, 2570. CIL XIV, 5357. AE 1969/70, 737c. CIL VIII, 5178. AE 2014, 324.
CIL X, 3714, CIL X, 1813, CIL X, 1815.
AE 1976, 141. CIL VIII,
9983. ILCV 842. CIL XII, 886.
CIL IX, 579. CIL VIII,
21538. MAD, 1186. CIL VIII, 24986. CIL VIII, 21320. CIL VIII, 15705. ILAlg, ii. 3, 10057. CIL VIII, 2618. CIL VIII, 8218. CIL VIII, 6830. CIL VIII, 2979. Prévot, "Les inscriptions
chrétiennes", 12–33. ILAlg, ii. 2,
4306. EDCS–00170. BCTH, 1928/29–349,25. CIL VIII, 6311. CIL VIII, 938. AE 1938, 74.
BCTH, 1930/31–215. ILAlg, ii. 3,
10055. CIL VIII, 4083. ILAlg, ii. 3, 10057. CIL VIII, 141. CIL VIII, 2981. CIL IX, 1982.
ILAlg, ii. 3, 10058. CIL VIII,
4087. CIL VIII, 4084. CIL VIII, 5287. CIL VIII, 5462. BCTH, 1904–239. CIL VIII, 4085. CIL XIV, 259.
MAD, 1187. ILAlg, ii. 2,
4307. CIL VIII, 19393. CIL VIII, 3301. CIL VIII, 3900. Bibliography Lucius Apuleius,
Apologia. Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum
Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL),
Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Bulletin
Archéologique du Comité des Travaux Historiques et Scientifiques (Archaeological
Bulletin of the Committee on Historic and Scientific Works, abbreviated BCTH),
Imprimerie Nationale, Paris (1885–1973). 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). Paul von Rohden, Elimar
Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography
of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Stéphane Gsell, Inscriptions Latines de L'Algérie (Latin Inscriptions from
Algeria, abbreviated ILAlg), Edouard Champion, Paris (1922–present). Ernst
Diehl, Inscriptiones Latinae Christianae Veteres (Ancient Latin Christian
Inscriptions, abbreviated ILCV), Weidmann, Berlin (1925–1931). Françoise
Prévot, Recherches archéologiques franco-tunisiennes à Mactar (Franco-Tunisian
Archaeological Research from Mactar), vol. 5, "Les inscriptions
chrétiennes", Rome (1984). M. Khanoussi, L. Maurin, Mourir à Dougga: Receuil
des inscriptions funéraires (Dying in Dougga: a Compendium of Funerary
Inscriptions, abbreviated MAD), Bordeaux, Tunis (2002). Epigraphik-Datenbank Clauss/Slaby (EDCS). Category: Roman gentes And for
THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tannonio – Ossia: Grice e
Tannonio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tannonio. For
Tannonius, the first-best Grice-Speranza vignette is Tannonius Pudens, the
lawyer who brought forward the accusation against Apuleius in the Apologia. The
reason is simple: almost everyone else in the gens is epigraphically present,
sometimes movingly so, but Pudens is conversationally alive. He gives Speranza
not merely a name on stone but a forensic act, and a very Gricean one at that:
the attempted conversion of marriage, wealth, age, desire, influence, and
bookish oddity into the charge of magic. The Apuleius case is perfect because
the prosecution depends on hostile uptake. Apuleius marries Pudentilla, a
wealthy widow. The accusers would have the court infer that a woman of means
could not have chosen him without illicit compulsion. The surface charge is
magic; the deeper social implicature is fraud by charm, learning, sexuality,
exoticism, and words. Tannonius Pudens, as legal mouthpiece of that suspicion,
becomes the man whose task is to make ordinary acts signify occult
manipulation. In Gricean terms, he tries to make the court hear more than the
evidence says, and to hear it under the most damaging possible description.
That is why Pudens is better than Tannonius Felix the flamen, Tannonius Victor
the deacon, the soldiers of the vigiles, or the African epitaphic Tannonii with
their very human ages and family devotions. Those figures give excellent social
texture, but Pudens gives a theory of meaning under accusation. He must argue
that Apuleius’s conduct is not merely conduct but signum: the fish, the mirror,
the verses, the medical or philosophical interests, the marriage contract, the
widow’s choice, all become indicia. Apuleius’s defence, in turn, is a sustained
counter-pragmatics. He does not merely deny; he reclassifies. What you call
magic, he says in effect, is philosophy, medicine, literature, household
business, or malice in the mind of the accuser. The name Pudens is also too
good to ignore. Pudens means modest, shamefaced, decent. Yet this Pudens
participates in a prosecution that Apuleius presents as anything but modest.
Speranza would not overwork the joke, but he would not leave it outside the
door either. Tannonius Pudens, the “modest” man, brings forward a charge whose
force depends on making a widow’s autonomy seem immodest and a philosopher’s
learning seem criminal. In that sense the cognomen turns back on the speaker.
Pudens tries to manage shame; Apuleius returns it to the prosecution. A good
vignette could stage Pudens and Apuleius in the courtroom. Pudens says that
books, charms, and private dealings with a wealthy woman cannot be innocent.
Apuleius replies that learned men possess books, husbands speak privately with
wives, and not every woman who marries has been enchanted. Pudens says the
signs speak. Apuleius answers, in the best Gricean spirit, that signs do not
speak unless a malicious interpreter lends them grammar. The legal question
becomes: what is the court entitled to gather? The dry Speranzian formula would
be this. Tannonius Pudens is useful because he is a lawyer of implicature gone
bad. He wants suspicion to count as evidence, learnedness to count as sorcery,
and marriage to count as capture. Apuleius defeats him by refusing the
prosecutorial implicature: the same facts, under a different rational
description, cease to be magical. Thus the trial is not just about whether
Apuleius performed magic. It is about who controls the meaning of the signs. So
my choice is Tannonius Pudens. In him the obscure gens Tannonia briefly enters
literary history as the gens of a failed interpretation. That is often the best
kind for Grice and Speranza: a man tries to make the world mean one thing; a
better speaker makes it mean another. Could there be an ethnic element
involved? Because Grice speaks of the 'decent chap' -- the 'honest chap' does
-- qua participant of conversation. So Apuleius is not given the rights to be a
'participant' of the 'conversation'? Thanks Yes, there could be an ethnic
element, though I would phrase it carefully as an ethnic-cultural and
rhetorical element rather than a simple racial one. In the Apuleius case, the
prosecution’s task is not merely to prove that Apuleius did something; it is to
make him fail the status of the decent conversational participant. That is very
close to your Gricean point. Grice’s “decent chap” or “honest chap” is not just
morally admirable. He is the kind of person whose contributions one may treat
as cooperative unless there is reason not to. He is entitled to ordinary
uptake. If he says something obscure, one assumes relevance; if he withholds,
one searches for tact; if he speaks learnedly, one does not immediately infer
fraud. The prosecution against Apuleius tries to deny him that default
entitlement. He is not heard as a respectable participant offering reasons. He
is heard as an outsider manipulating signs. The ethnic element enters because
Apuleius can be made to look too African, too Greek, too exotic, too eloquent,
too philosophical, too interested in strange rites, too skilled with words.
None of these separately proves magic. Together they can be made to generate
the hostile implicature: this is not a Roman plain-dealer but a dangerous
performer of meanings. His learning, instead of counting as cultivated speech,
is redescribed as occult technique. His marriage, instead of counting as mutual
choice, becomes enchantment. His philosophy, instead of counting as serious
inquiry, becomes magic under another name. So yes: Apuleius is denied the
rights of conversation. The accusers do not merely say “he is wrong” or “he is
guilty.” They try to shift the frame so that whatever he says is already
suspect as strategy, seduction, spell, or theatrical display. That is a classic
exclusion from the Gricean community of cooperative interpretation. The decent
chap may implicate; Apuleius is accused of insinuating. The decent chap may
persuade; Apuleius is accused of bewitching. The decent chap may marry;
Apuleius is accused of capturing. Tannonius Pudens, therefore, becomes useful
because he is not only prosecuting a man but attempting to control the court’s
uptake of a man’s whole persona. The question is not simply whether Apuleius
has done magic, but whether Apuleius is the sort of speaker whose words can be
received under the normal presumption of civic reasonableness. Apuleius’s
Apologia is then a counter-claim to participant-status. He says, in effect:
hear me as philosopher, husband, educated man, and Roman provincial of
standing; do not hear me as the barbarous magician your suspicion wants to
create. The Speranzian dry formula would be this. The prosecution tries to make
Apuleius conversationally indecent before it makes him legally guilty. It wants
the court to stop treating his utterances as contributions and start treating
them as symptoms. That is where ethnicity, accent, cultural location, Greek
learning, African provenance, and philosophical eccentricity do their work.
They do not prove the charge; they prepare the hearing of it. In Gricean terms,
Apuleius’s first task is not to answer the accusation, but to recover the right
to be an addressee and speaker in the same rational conversation as everyone
else.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tanusio – Ossia: Grice e
Tanusio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tanusio -- The gens Tanusia was an obscure
plebeian family at ancient Rome. Few members of
this gens are mentioned in history, and none attained any of the higher offices
of the Roman state. Quintus Cicero mentions that the heads of this family were
proscribed by Sulla,[1] and Tanusius Geminus was a historian of the same
period, whose work has now been lost.[2] A few other Tanusii are known from
epigraphy. Praenomina The Tanusii used
the praenomina Lucius, Gaius, Marcus, Quintus, and Titus, all of which were
amongst the most common names at all periods of Roman history. Members This list includes abbreviated
praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Tanusius
Geminus, a historian whose work has been lost, with the exception of a passage
quoted by Suetonius, concerning Sulla. He is probably the same as the historian
"Ganusius" referred to by Plutarch, and the annalist
"Tamusius" mentioned by Seneca.[3][4][5][6] Lucius Tanusius L. f., a
native of Ateste in Venetia and Histria, was a veteran of the Legio XIV Gemina,
buried at Mogontiacum in Germania Superior, aged fifty, along with Quintus
Tanusius, probably his brother, in a tomb dating from the first half of the
first century.[7] Quintus Tanusius L. f., a native of Ateste, and a veteran of
the Legio XIV Gemina, was buried at Mogontiacum, aged forty, along with Lucius
Tanusius, probably his brother, in a tomb dating to the first half of the first
century.[7] Tanusius, the author of an inscription from Pompeii in Campania.[8]
Gaius Tanusius T. f. Balbinus, interred at Saena in Etruria, in a cinerarium
dating to the latter half of the first century.[9] Lucius Tanusius Dexter, one
of the aediles at Sora in Latium in AD 83.[10] Lucius Tanusius M. f. Pudens, a
native of Sassina in Umbria, was a soldier in the seventh cohort of the
Praetorian Guard at Rome, in the century of Taurus, and was buried at Rome,
aged twenty-five, having served for five years, in a tomb dating to the late
first or early second century.[11] Quintus Tanusius Terentianus, a native of
Arretium in Etruria, was a soldier serving at Rome during the reign of
Antoninus Pius, in the century of Severus.[12] Tanusius Martinianus, buried in
a fourth- or fifth-century tomb at Rome.[13] Undated Tanusii Marcus Tanusius C.
f., named in a sepulchral inscription from the present site of Scansano,
formerly part of Etruria.[14] Lucius Tanusius Felix, buried at Aquileia in
Venetia and Histria.[15] Gaius Tanusius Luppus, a veteran of the urban cohorts,
buried at Sullectum in Africa Proconsularis.[16] See also List of Roman gentes
References Quintus Tullius Cicero, De Petitione
Consulatus, 2. Dictionary of Greek and
Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. II, p. 239 ("Tanusius
Geminus"). Suetonius, "The
Life of Caesar", 9. Plutarch,
"The Life of Caesar", 22.
Seneca the Younger, Epistulae, 93.
Vossius, De Historicis Latinis, i. 12.
AE 1940, 113. CIL IV,
10044. CIL XI, 1802. EE, viii. 1, 892. AE 2012, 256.
CIL VI, 2379. CIL VI, 36401. NSA 1930–298.
CIL V, 8465. CIL VIII, 11107.
Bibliography Quintus Tullius Cicero, De Petitione Consulatus (attributed).
Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Younger), Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium
(Moral Letters to Lucilius). Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus
(Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus,
De Vita Caesarum (Lives of the Caesars, or The Twelve Caesars). Gerardus
Vossius, De Historicis Latinis (The Latin Historians), Jan Maire, Brittenburg
(1627). 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). Wilhelm
Henzen, Ephemeris Epigraphica: Corporis Inscriptionum Latinarum Supplementum
(Journal of Inscriptions: Supplement to the Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum,
abbreviated EE), Institute of Roman Archaeology, Rome (1872–1913). Notizie
degli Scavi di Antichità (News of Excavations from Antiquity, abbreviated NSA),
Accademia dei Lincei (1876–present). René Cagnat et
alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses
Universitaires de France (1888–present). Category: Roman
gentes And for THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tanusio –
Ossia: Grice e Tanusio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tanusio -- For Tanusius,
the first-best Grice-Speranza choice is Tanusius Geminus, the lost historian. The
temptation is almost irresistible because he survives as a historian whose work
has disappeared except for a passage quoted by Suetonius on Sulla, and because
even his name arrives under variant transmissions, Tanusius, Ganusius,
Tamusius. That is already a little seminar on historical meaning. A man writes
history; the history vanishes; the name itself becomes unstable; yet a hostile
or useful fragment survives because later authors found it worth taking up. For
Speranza, that is not a misfortune. It is the point. The Sullan context is
especially good. Quintus Cicero says that the heads of the Tanusian family were
proscribed by Sulla. Tanusius Geminus then appears as a historian of the same
period, with a surviving notice concerning Sulla. This gives a compact but
powerful Gricean pressure: what does it mean to write history when one’s gens
has suffered under the political violence being narrated? The question is not
whether Tanusius is therefore unreliable. That would be too crude. The question
is how a Roman reader is entitled to hear the historian’s testimony once family
memory, proscription, and public record intersect. Speranza would like the fact
that Tanusius’s claim to fame is almost entirely mediated. We do not possess
Tanusius as an author in command of his own page. We possess him as cited,
misspelled, perhaps corrected, and put to later use. His meaning comes to us by
transmission and uptake. Suetonius quotes him; Plutarch may know him under
another form; Seneca may mention him under yet another. The historian becomes,
ironically, a historical object whose own identity must be reconstructed from
the very instability he would have wished to master. That is very dry, and very
Roman. A Gricean vignette could turn on the difference between saying,
recording, and letting posterity infer. Tanusius writes about Sulla. What he
says is lost. What survives is what Suetonius needed him to have said. The
historical implicature is therefore double. First, Tanusius may have meant
something about Sulla’s power, cruelty, or public persona. Second, Suetonius,
by quoting him, means something about Caesar, Sulla, or the genealogy of Roman
ambition. The fragment is not simply evidence; it is evidence under quotation.
Grice would insist on asking who means what by preserving it. The variant names
help rather than hinder. Tanusius, Ganusius, Tamusius: the archive itself
behaves like a bad conversational partner, repeating the name with just enough
deformation to make recognition possible and certainty difficult. Speranza
could put it this way: Tanusius Geminus is the historian of civil violence who
survives by civil textual damage. The Roman republic loses citizens to
proscription; the manuscript tradition loses consonants. Neither loss is
equivalent, but both remind one that survival is not the same thing as
integrity. Compared with the other Tanusii, Geminus is clearly superior for
this purpose. The veterans of Legio XIV Gemina at Mogontiacum give a pleasant
accidental echo in the cognomen Gemina, and Lucius Tanusius Pudens of the
Praetorian Guard offers the usual possibilities of military epitaph and youth
cut short. But Tanusius Geminus gives history, Sulla, proscription, quotation,
textual instability, and the danger of memory under power. That is the richer
Grice-Speranza case. The dry formula would be this. Tanusius Geminus is useful
because he is a historian whose authority arrives in fragments, and a Roman
whose family-name stands near the violence of Sulla’s lists. He writes,
perhaps, to record. Suetonius quotes, perhaps, to illustrate. Later readers
infer, perhaps, too much. In him, history is not a settled narrative but a
chain of conversational custody: someone witnessed or gathered; someone wrote;
someone excerpted; someone miscopied; someone corrected; Speranza listens. That
is enough for the vignette. and do we have the latin for the suetonio passage?
It seems that if the proscription was on the Tanusia gens, he was a Tanusio. Do
the variants in spelling come in apparatus criticum? Thanks -- Grice: "For
surely Tanusius knew what he was called!" Yes. The Latin passage is
Suetonius, Divus Iulius 9.2: meminerunt huius coniurationis Tanusius Geminus in
historia Marcus Bibulus in edictis C. Curio pater in orationibus; de hac
significare uidetur et Cicero in quadam ad Axium epistula referens Caesarem in
consulatu confirmasse regnum de quo aedilis cogitarat. Tanusius adicit Crassum
paenitentia uel metu diem caedi destinatum non obisse et idcirco ne Caesarem
quidem signum quod ab eo dari conuenerat dedisse; conuenisse autem Curio ait ut
togam de umero deiceret. Suetonius, Divus Iulius 9.2 [perseus.tufts.edu] A
close translation would be: “Tanusius Geminus in his History, Marcus Bibulus in
his edicts, and Gaius Curio the elder in his speeches mention this conspiracy;
Cicero too seems to refer to it in a certain letter to Axius, saying that
Caesar in his consulship established the monarchy of which he had thought when
he was aedile. Tanusius adds that Crassus, from remorse or fear, did not attend
on the day appointed for the slaughter, and that therefore Caesar too did not
give the signal which it had been agreed he should give; Curio says that the
agreement was that he should let his toga fall from his shoulder.” Suetonius,
Divus Iulius 9.2 [perseus.tufts.edu] Grice’s joke is exactly right: surely
Tanusius knew what he was called. The Suetonian text as transmitted in the
standard online Latin gives Tanusius Geminus, and the internal logic of the
gens-entry supports Tanusius rather than a wandering Ganusius or Tamusius. If
the family is Tanusia, and if Quintus Cicero is said to mention the heads of
that family being proscribed by Sulla, then Tanusius is the form that makes
prosopographical sense. The variants Ganusius and Tamusius look like the kind
of manuscript or secondary-report disturbance one expects when an obscure nomen
has to travel through copying, quotation, and later excerpting. Speranza would
say: the man’s name was probably least uncertain to the man himself, and most
uncertain to posterity, which is the usual arrangement. On the apparatus question:
yes, this is just the sort of variation one would expect to find noted in an
apparatus criticus or in prosopographical discussion rather than treated as
three different historians. The gens notice’s phrasing already points that way:
Tanusius Geminus is probably the “Ganusius” of Plutarch and the “Tamusius” of
Seneca. That is not three men but one name under textual weather. A full
critical edition of Suetonius or the relevant fragment-collection would be the
place to check which manuscripts or indirect traditions support which spelling.
The Perseus text itself prints Tanusius, while the English summary from Rolfe
likewise calls him Tanusius Geminus and says he wrote a History. Suetonius,
Life of Julius Caesar 9 [lexundria.com] The Grice-Speranza point is very neat.
Tanusius writes history; Suetonius quotes him; Plutarch and Seneca, or their
traditions, deform the name; modern editors then restore or compare. So the
historian of civil violence becomes himself a victim of transmissional
violence. Grice asks, “What did he mean?” Speranza adds, “What was he called?”
The answer is: in Suetonius, Tanusius Geminus; in the apparatus, probably a
small civil war among consonants. Grice, as per his 'Vacuous Names,' would say
that 'Tanusius' is not one, but Plutarch's 'Ganusius' is, as is Seneca's
'Tamusius.' Grice's gloss: Plutarch was a Greek, so let him go. Seneca was from
Hispania, so let him go. Only Suetonius was the pure-bred Roman: and he
provides the denotatum for 'Tanusius,' as he should! Thanks Yes, that is a very
nice Gricean refinement. Tanusius is not the vacuous name; it has its
denotatum, supplied by Suetonius, who gives Tanusius Geminus in the Latin
biographical tradition. The vacuity begins when the reference is mis-carried:
Plutarch’s Ganusius and Seneca’s Tamusius are not alternative gentlemen waiting
in the prosopographical anteroom, but defective routes to the same intended
target. Grice would say, dryly, that a name may fail not because no one ever
bore it, but because this token, in this tradition, does not succeed in
fastening onto the man except by editorial charity. The joke about ethnography
must be handled with Speranzian courtesy, but it works as philological comedy.
Plutarch was writing in Greek, so one expects a certain transliterative
weather. Seneca was from Hispania, so Speranza lets him go too, though less
generously, because Latin from Hispania is still Latin and therefore had better
behave. Suetonius, however, is the Roman biographer in possession of the Roman
file. If anyone is to give the name its denotatum, he is the one. Hence the
line writes itself: Plutarch may have heard him through Greek, Seneca through
moralising citation, but Suetonius gives us the man’s visiting card. This also
fits Grice’s “Vacuous Names” rather neatly. Tanusius, in Suetonius, is not
empty; Ganusius and Tamusius are, unless rescued by an apparatus that says, in
effect, “read Tanusius.” Their role is not to denote independently but to
display the route by which denotation nearly failed. The apparatus criticus
becomes a little theory of reference-management: Ganusius means Tanusius, if
and only if the editor has done the decent thing and supplied the missing
conversational charity. Speranza’s dry version could be: “Surely Tanusius knew
what he was called; it is posterity that had difficulty taking minutes.” That
is the charm of the case. The historian of Sulla survives not only in a
fragment, but in a dispute over his own nominative identity. Suetonius secures
the reference; Plutarch and Seneca provide the noise; Grice supplies the
theory; Speranza supplies the smile.
And what Tanusius says -- even 'implicates' as Grice
would have it -- is clear enough. The man was a historian (Grice's obituary
read: "Professional philosopher and amateur cricketer") although
Grice is unsure whether Suetonius uses 'historicus' (too pompous a word for a
Roman). The man was a man -- never mind his 'profession' -- and his 'head' was
metonymically proscribed. He wasn't a farmer raising cows. The memory of
Tanusius is enough to recover what Grice calls the 'dictivum' -- after Peirce
-- a 'sign' that does the signing! Thanks Exactly. Tanusius is doing more than
“providing information,” and Suetonius is doing more than citing a source. The
little surviving notice is a sign in the strong Peircean-Gricean sense: not a
mere label attached to a lost historian, but a dictivum, a sign that says by
standing where it stands, under the pressure of Sulla, proscription, memory,
and quotation. And yes, Suetonius does not need to call him historicus for the
point to hold. The Roman word in the passage is in historia: Tanusius Geminus
in historia. That is better than historicus, perhaps, because it avoids the
pomp of profession. Grice’s obituary joke, “professional philosopher and
amateur cricketer,” is helpful precisely because it exposes the absurdity of
letting the professional label absorb the man. Tanusius was not chiefly a
job-title. He was a man whose family-memory, historical writing, and surviving
fragment meet at one dangerous Roman point. The metonymy of the head is
excellent. In proscription, the “head” is not merely anatomical. It is the
citizen under the description under which the state has made him killable,
confiscable, displayable, and nameable. The caput is the juridical-personal
unit of exposure. If the heads of the Tanusii were proscribed, the gens has
already entered Roman history as a family whose name was made public by being
made vulnerable. Tanusius Geminus later writing about Sulla is therefore not
neutral chatter from a man who happened to enjoy republican anecdote. Even if
he writes calmly, the name itself has suffered enough to make the fragment
speak. Speranza could put it this way: Tanusius is not a farmer raising cows
because the surviving sign does not permit him to remain one. He is recovered
under the description historian, but the recovery is made possible by the
darker description proscribed household. The man writes historia; Suetonius
preserves historia; the name Tanusius carries a civic wound; and the reader,
doing the decent Gricean thing, completes the inference without requiring the
fragment to cry. So the implicature is clear enough. Tanusius does not merely
report Sulla. He is remembered in a chain in which Sulla’s violence, Roman
memory, and literary testimony are mutually implicated. The dictivum is the
surviving citation itself: Tanusius Geminus in historia. It signs because it
has been placed in a history of names that survived just barely enough to
denote, accuse, and remind. Grice asks what is meant. Speranza answers that,
sometimes, the archive means by not having forgotten quite everything.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tassenio – Ossia: Grice e
Tassenio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tassenio -- The gens Tapsennia was an
obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. No members of this
gens occur in history, but several are known from an inscription dating from
the middle of the first century, under the early empire. Origin The nomen Tapsenna is clearly of
Etruscan derivation, as shown by the distinctly Etruscan termination -enna in
its masculine form.[1][2] The inscription mentioning several members of this
family is from Teanum Sidicinum in northern Campania, a region that had been
colonized by the Etruscans at a very early period, although it is not
impossible that the Tapsennae settled there at a later time.[3] Branches and cognomina The only cognomen
associated with the Tapsennae known from epigraphy is Proculus, originally a
praenomen that had fallen out of use in Republican times, but was later revived
as a surname. From its form, Proculus seems to be a diminutive of Procus, a
very ancient word for a prince, or in later times, a suitor.[4][5] although a
popular explanation in later times was that the name was given to a child born
while his father was abroad.[6][4]
Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of
this practice, see filiation. Lucius Tapsenna, the father of Publius, and
grandfather of Publius Tapsenna Proculus and Quintus Tapsenna.[7] Publius
Tapsenna L. f., the father of Publius Tapsenna Proculus and Quintus Tapsenna,
was buried in a mid-first-century family sepulchre built at Teanum Sidicinum in
Campania by his son, Publius.[7] Publius Tapsenna P. f. L. n. Proculus, a
veteran of the tenth cohort of the Praetorian Guard, died at the age of
thirty-two. He built a family sepulchre at Teanum Sidicinum for himself, his
wife, Pettia Urbana, his father, Publius, and brother, Quintus.[7] Quintus
Tapsenna P. f. L. n., the brother of Publius Tapsenna Proculus, in whose
mid-first-century family sepulchre at Teanum Sidicinum he was buried.[7] See
also List of Roman gentes References
Chase, pp. 117, 118. Harper's
Dictionary of Classical Antiquities, pp. 1101–1103 ("Nomen"). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, vol.
I, pp. 490 ff. Chase, pp. 111, 145. Lewis & Short, A Latin Dictionary, s.v.
procer. Paulus, Epitome of Festus. CIL X, 4787. Bibliography Paulus Diaconus,
Epitome de Sex. Pompeio Festo de Significatu Verborum (Epitome of Festus' De
Significatu Verborum). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum
(The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische
Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Dictionary of Greek and Roman
Geography, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1854).
Charlton T. Lewis and Charles Short, A Latin Dictionary, Clarendon Press,
Oxford (1879). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina",
in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897).
Harper's Dictionary of Classical Literature and Antiquities, Harry Thurston
Peck, ed. (Second Edition, 1897). Category: Roman gentes And for THIS gens?
Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tassenio
– Ossia: Grice e Tassenio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tassenio -- For the
Tapsennii, the best choice is Publius Tapsenna Proculus, the Praetorian veteran
who built the family sepulchre at Teanum Sidicinum for himself, his wife Pettia
Urbana, his father Publius, and his brother Quintus. The whole gens is almost a
single inscription, which is not a defect for Speranza but an invitation. Here
the Gricean interest lies in the fact that one act of commemoration has to make
a family speak. Tapsenna is useful because the name is Etruscan in form, the
setting is Campanian, the man is Roman military, and the monument is domestic.
That gives Speranza a fine little crossing of identities. Publius Tapsenna
Proculus is not historically noisy, but he is structurally rich. His
family-name points backward to Etruscan derivation; his sepulchre stands in
Teanum Sidicinum, a region with very old mixed Italic and Etruscan
associations; his service in the tenth cohort of the Praetorian Guard places
him near the imperial centre; and his inscription gathers wife, father,
brother, and self into one built act of memory. If Grice wants a “sign that
signs,” this is it, but in stone. The cognomen Proculus also helps. It has
those old explanations about distance, princely or suitor-like ancestry, or the
child born while the father was away. Speranza would not need to make too much
of any one etymology. The point is that Proculus, as a name, already invites a
small drama of nearness and distance. The veteran has gone from Teanum to
service in the Praetorian world and then back, at least commemoratively, to
family burial. He is near Rome by office, near home by tomb, and near his
ancestors by inscription. The family sepulchre becomes the device by which
distance is cancelled. A Grice-Speranza vignette could turn on the inscription
as a speech-act. Publius does not merely record that these people existed. He
makes a claim about who is to be kept together under one name and one stone.
The utterance is not “I died at thirty-two,” though the age matters. It is
rather: “Let this family be readable as a family.” The sepulchre is therefore
not only funerary but conversational. It addresses descendants, passers-by,
local memory, and perhaps the Roman habit of filing persons under names,
filiations, and places. It tells the reader how to take the Tapsennii. The dry
version might be this. The Tapsennii are so obscure that they almost require
Publius Tapsenna Proculus to become their editor. He supplies the archive by
dying young, or at least by preparing for death intelligently. A lesser Roman
might have left a name; Proculus leaves a syntax: father, son, brother, wife,
cohort, place. The inscription means by arranging relations. It does not argue
that the family mattered. It gives the reader no alternative but to read them
together. This also makes him better than the grandfather Lucius or the father
Publius taken alone, and better than Quintus, who appears essentially inside
his brother’s commemorative structure. Publius Proculus is the active figure.
He builds, names, gathers, and fixes the relevant relations. In Gricean terms,
he is the speaker; the tomb is the utterance; the family is the content; public
memory is the addressee. So my first-choice Tapsennius is Publius Tapsenna
Proculus. He gives Speranza a miniature theory of Roman familial meaning: an
Etruscan-shaped nomen in Campania, a Praetorian career near imperial power, and
a sepulchral inscription that turns kinship into durable public uptake. The
wolf gives milk, Acca gives language, and Proculus gives the Tapsennii a
sentence in stone. When Grice visited Italy (and Greece) for his 'grand tour'
apres Clifton, he was surprised at how un-Latin Italian had become. Can you
find a word in Latin that has the '-ps-' cluster and becomes '-ss-' in today's
Italian. Grice won't expect HIS kin -- Bolognese philosophy dons -- talking of
Tassenio, but still! Thanks Yes: the clean exhibit is Latin ipse becoming
Italian esso. The phonetic route is just the sort of thing Grice could enjoy
while pretending not to. Latin ipse contains the cluster -ps-. In Italian, that
cluster is assimilated and simplified into -ss-, giving esso. So, ipse becomes
esso: the very emphatic Latin “self, very, the same one” ends by becoming a
rather ordinary Italian pronoun. That is almost too neat for the Clifton grand
tourist: the Roman insists ipse, and the Italian replies esso, having politely
removed the p on the way. A second useful example is scripsi becoming scrissi.
Latin scripsi, “I wrote,” gives Italian scrissi. Here again -ps- becomes -ss-.
Grice would like this one too because it lets him mutter that the author wrote
scripsi, but the descendant language reports scrissi, as if even the verb of
writing had suffered editorial emendation. So, if Speranza wants a playful note
on Tapsenna becoming imaginary Tassenna or Tassenio, the sound-change has
respectable company. One would not use it as an actual etymology without
evidence, but as a joke about Italian’s treatment of the Latin -ps- cluster it
works perfectly. Latin is not merely translated into Italian; it is sometimes
made to behave. The -p- is not refuted, exactly. It is silently voted out. The
dry Speranzian formulation might be: Grice, after Clifton, expected Italy to
speak Latin with better weather. Instead, he found ipse softened into esso and
scripsi domesticated as scrissi. Thus, if some Bolognese philosophical don
failed to say Tapsennius and produced something perilously like Tassenio, the
fault would not be wholly personal. Italian had long ago learned to treat -ps-
as an invitation to -ss-. Grice: "Well, the 'p' does not dissappear or vanish into thin air
-- rather the italian tongue (lingua italiana) 'gemminates' the s. As Professor
Higgins at UCL would say, /ta'ssenio/, not /ta'senio/. Thanks Exactly. Grice
would not say the p has vanished; he would say Italian has paid for it by
strengthening the s. The lost segment is not simply absent; it has left a
phonetic receipt. Latin ipse does not become Italian eso, but esso, and scripsi
does not become scrisi, but scrissi. The p has ceased to be segmentally
audible, but the following s has been geminated. That is much more satisfying
to a Gricean ear, because nothing has quite disappeared without conversational
consequences. So for playful Tapsenna/Tassenio purposes, the point is not
/taˈsenio/ but /taˈssenio/. Professor Higgins would indeed insist on the double
consonant, and an Italian schoolmaster would do so with less charm and more
chalk. The Latin or pseudo-Latin -ps- cluster, domesticated by Italian
phonotactics, yields not a lazy single s but the tense Italian geminate. The
tongue does not forget the p; it converts it into duration. Speranza’s
formulation might be: Italian does not murder the p; it buries it inside the s,
with full honours and double consonantal compensation. Latin ipse says its p
openly; Italian esso keeps the trace by holding the s longer. Thus Tapsennius,
if surrendered to a comic Italianising ear, would not become a smooth Tasenio,
but a properly tightened Tassenio. Grice, who disliked vanishing acts in
philosophy as much as in phonology, would approve the economy: no entity
disappears praeter necessitatem; some merely geminate.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarantino – Ossia: Grice
e Tarantino: la ragione conversazionale dell’inconscio e la coscienza – la
scuola di Gravina. Note su Il problema della causalità. Il Gruppo di Gioco di
H. P. Grice. Giuseppe Tarantino (Gravina, Bari, Puglia): la ragione
conversazionale dell’inconscio e la coscienza – Grice’s theory of reason-governed conversational meaning treats
conversation as a cooperative, rationally organized activity in which hearers
infer speaker-meaning by assuming that contributions are made in accordance
with an accepted purpose and are regulated by norms (the Cooperative Principle
and the maxims of quantity, quality, relation, and manner); what is “meant” is
often not identical with what is literally said, but is instead recoverable as
a calculable implicature from the speaker’s publicly recognizable intentions
plus shared expectations about rational talk. Giuseppe Tarantino (1857–1950),
by contrast, was an Italian academic philosopher and pedagogue associated with
Pisa (including leadership roles there), trained in the post-Hegelian/Italian
critical tradition around figures such as Francesco Fiorentino, and known for
historical-critical work (e.g., on Locke) and for broader treatments of will,
ethics, and causality; nothing in his documented output places him as a
precursor to Gricean pragmatics, and the “Grice–Tarantino” exchange in your
passage is best read as a witty anachronistic staging that juxtaposes
Tarantino’s interest in mind, will, and the conscious/unconscious nexus with
Grice’s focus on how rational agents manage meaning in interaction. The clean
comparison, then, is that Grice explains how conversational understanding is
normatively guided and inferentially structured (how a remark about tea,
self-forgetting, or “not knowing that one does not know” can communicate more
than its literal content by exploiting cooperative expectations), whereas
Tarantino’s philosophical psychology and ethics would frame talk about
unconsciousness primarily as a problem about the structure of agency,
cognition, and moral responsibility rather than as a problem about the
inferential mechanics of talk-exchange; in the dialogue’s terms, Grice can
treat Tarantino’s quips as cases of implicature generated by deliberate
understatement or playful relevance-shifts, while Tarantino provides the
thematic subject matter (consciousness, will, causal explanation) that Grice’s
theory does not aim to analyze directly except insofar as such topics become
contents handled by reason-governed conversational moves. Insegna a Pisa.
Studia nel ginnasio e compì gli studi superiori a Pisa, dapprima come studente
all'università della stessa città e successivamente come allievo della scuola
normale superiore di Pisa. Inizia gli studi sotto la guida di FIORENTINO . Si
laurea e segue a Napoli il maestro FIORENTINO. In sua memoria dedica al suo
maestro “I Saggi Filosofici,” ottenne la docenza in filosofia. Inizia ad
acquisire notorietà grazie ai saggi critici che pubblica sul Giornale
Napoletano. Insegna al liceo Genovesi di Napoli. Compone il Saggio sulla
volontà, Gennaro, Napoli. Insegna al Marciano, e Pisa. Insegna anche
alla scuola di pedagogia, dove tra i suoi insegnanti figura GENTILE. La sua
notorietà cresce sempre più grazie ad alcuni suoi saggi critici pubblicati
sulla Rivista di Filosofia Scientifica di MORSELLI, il più noto dei quali è su
Locke. Tra i suoi studenti di Pisa più noti figurano NICOLA ed ACCADIA. Torna
nella sua città natale, dove dona alla biblioteca Santomasi una parte cospicua
dei suoi libri. A lui è stato intitolato il liceo. Altre saggi: Appunti di
Filosofia, Toso, Aversa, Saggi filosofici, Napoli, Morano; Studio storico su
Locke, Rivista di Filosofia, Milano-Torino, Dumolard; Saggio sul criticismo e
sull'associazionismo, Napoli, Morano; In morte di CALDERONI, Vecchi, Trani;
Saggio sulla volontà; Saggio sulle idee morali e politiche di Hobbes, Napoli,
Giannini; Il problema della morale di fronte al positivismo e alla metafisica,
Pisa, Valenti; Il principio dell'etica e la crisi morale, Napoli, Tessitore; Il
concetto dello STATO ed il principio di nazionalità” (Napoli); “Discorso
preposto alle traduzioni dal latino, dall’inglese e dal francese di SOTTILE,
Napoli; VINCI e la scienza della natura, Nel centenario di VINCI, La
politica e la morale. Discorso, Pisa, Mariotti, Sulla riforma universitaria,
Rivista di filosofia. Cfr. Turi, inconscio, Gentile, Vinci, lo stato, la
nazione. Grice: Professore Tarantino, mi
hanno sempre affascinato i suoi studi sull’inconscio e la coscienza! Dica,
secondo lei, una buona tazza di tè può aiutare a scoprire i misteri della
mente, o rischia solo di renderli più... aromatici? Tarantino: Ah, caro Grice,
se il tè fosse la soluzione, bisognerebbe aggiungerlo al programma di
filosofia! Ma temo che il mistero dell'inconscio resti più difficile da
dissolvere che lo zucchero nella bevanda. Grice: Mi trova d’accordo! Del resto,
come scrivevo in Personal identity, io stesso non ero consapevole di essere
inconsapevole. Un po’ come quando ti dimentichi dove hai messo gli occhiali... e
li stai indossando! Ma non glielo dico, eh! Tarantino: Bella implicatura,
Grice! In fondo, il filosofo che non sa di non sapere è come l’inconscio:
sempre pronto a spuntare quando meno te lo aspetti, e magari pure con gli
occhiali già sul naso! Tarantino, Giuseppe (1879). Dissertazione. Sotto
Fiontino. Filosofia. Pisa.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarazio – Ossia: Grice e
Tarazio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarazio. The gens
Taracia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. No members of this gens
appear in history, although at least one held the rank of quaestor at an
uncertain period.[1] Several are known from inscriptions. Origin The nomen Taracius is probably of
Oscan origin, indicating that the Taracii were likely descended from the
Sabines, Samnites, or some other people of central and southern Italy.[2] Branches and cognomina The only cognomen
found in the inscriptions of the Taracii is Felix, a common surname meaning
"fortunate" or "happy".[3]
Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of
this practice, see filiation. Gnaeus Taracius Cn. f., a young man buried at
Casilinum in Campania, aged twenty, in a tomb dedicated by his mother, and
dating to the latter half of the first century BC.[4] Marcus Taracius, buried
at Carthage in Africa Proconsularis.[5] Marcus Taracius M. f., a quaestor, made
an offering to Demeter at Cumae in Campania.[1] Neus[i] Taracius Felix,
dedicated a tomb at Rome for his foster-son, Felicior, aged four years, eight
months, and seven days.[6] Notes
Presumably Gnaeus, which seems to have been a regular praenomen of this
gens. See also List of Roman gentes References
ILS, 9511. Chase, p. 128. Chase, p. 111. CIL X, 4362.
CILPCart, 360. Fede e Civiltà,
1966–22. Bibliography Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum
(The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische
Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Hermann Dessau, Inscriptiones
Latinae Selectae (Select Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated ILS), Berlin
(1892–1916). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in
Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Zeïneb
Benzina Ben Abdallah and Leïla Ladjimi Sebaï, Catalogue des inscriptions
latines païennes inédites du Musée de Carthage (Catalogue of Unpublished Pagan
Latin Inscriptions from the Museum of Carthage, abbreviated CILPCart), Rome
(2011). Category: Roman gentes And for this gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarazio – Ossia: Grice
e Tarazio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarazio. For
Taracius, the first-best Grice-Speranza choice is Marcus Taracius M. f., the
quaestor who made an offering to Demeter at Cumae. The gens is almost too small
to resist sentimental over-reading, but this figure gives the cleanest
intersection: Oscan-looking nomen, Campanian setting, Greek cult, Roman office,
and a public dedication. That is enough for Speranza, and perhaps more than
enough for Grice. The point is not that Marcus Taracius is historically
important. He is not. The point is that he is institutionally bilingual in the
broader Roman sense. As quaestor, he belongs to the language of Roman public
accounting, magistracy, and res publica. At Cumae, a Greek city in Campania
with enormous symbolic weight, he makes an offering to Demeter, not merely to a
neat Latin equivalent under a tidy Roman shelf-label. The act therefore speaks
across civic and cultic idioms. In Gricean terms, the dedication says devotion;
it also implicates cultural competence. Taracius knows where he is, what
divinity is to be addressed there, and what kind of public religious gesture
will count. Demeter is especially useful. She is not only a goddess of grain
and fertility, but also, in a Roman administrative ear, almost too close to the
practical world of supply, harvest, and public provision. A quaestor dedicating
to Demeter at Cumae is not merely being pious. He is, so to speak, allowing
office and cult to converse. The official who handles resources honours the
goddess of yield. That may be accidental. Speranza would say that accidents are
often the archive’s way of pretending to be modest. The alternative candidates
are thinner. Gnaeus Taracius, dead at twenty at Casilinum, gives pathos but
little conceptual pressure. Marcus Taracius at Carthage gives geographic spread
but not much scene. Neus or Gnaeus Taracius Felix, dedicating to the foster-son
Felicior, is touching and permits a little play on Felix and Felicior, fortune
and comparative fortune, but the risk of sentiment is high. The quaestor at
Cumae gives the better machinery: office, cult, translation, Oscan-Campanian
background, and a Greek divine addressee under Roman form. A possible vignette
would have Grice ask what the offering “means.” Not in the merely natural
sense, and not simply as a conventional inscription. It means because a Roman
magistrate, in a particular place, under a public religious form, addresses a
goddess whose name carries Greek, local, agricultural, and administrative
resonances. The act is therefore not reducible to “Taracius was religious.” It
is a controlled public utterance in stone or ritual: I, holding Roman office,
recognise this local-divine grammar and make myself intelligible within it. The
dry Speranzian formula might be: Marcus Taracius is the right Taracius because
he lets an obscure Oscan-shadowed nomen speak Greek at Cumae in a Roman
official accent. He does not write philosophy. He makes an offering. But
sometimes that is enough. A quaestor before Demeter is a small theory of Roman
accommodation: what is said is piety; what is meant is that Rome can govern
best when it has learned whom to address, and in what language, even when the
language is not purely its own. And we can imagine the stone carver -- you can
translate to Latin and add +> with implicatum, as you please. Mrs. Tarazio.
"What are you doing? You're taking too long." Stone carver: Master's
orders: M -- E -- T -- E -- I have done the "D" and "E"
already, one "R" to go. Mrs T. Such a hellenistic, the husband! I
always thought 'CERES' was so much more economical!" Thanks Yes, very
much. I would make the stone-cutter scene do two things at once: first, stage
the practical nuisance of Greek prestige; second, let the implicature sit in
the extra labour of inscription. “CERES” is shorter, cheaper, and perfectly
Roman. “DEMETER” is longer, Greek, and therefore socially marked. Mrs Taracius
hears not theology but affectation. Latin reconstruction: Taracia: “Quid agis?
nimium moraris.” Stone-cutter:
“Iussa domini facio: D -- E -- M -- E -- T -- E -- R. Duo iam litterae peractae
sunt, unum R superest.” Taracia: “O virum hellenisticum! Ego semper putavi
CEREREM multo breviorem esse.” Or, if one wants the more
economical and inscriptional Roman form: Taracia: “Quid agis? nimium moraris.” Lapicida:
“Iussa domini: D -- E -- M -- E -- T -- E -- R. D et E iam incisa sunt; unum R
restat.” Taracia: “O maritum nimis Graeculum! CERES, ut opinor,
minus lapidis poscebat.” Translation: Mrs. Taracius: “What are you doing? You
are taking too long.” Stone-cutter: “Master’s orders: D -- E -- M -- E -- T --
E -- R. The D and E are already cut; one R remains.” Mrs. Taracius: “What a
little Greekling my husband is. CERES, I always thought, required less stone.”
Implicature: The stone-cutter explicitly reports obedience to instructions, but
the counting of letters implicates cost, effort, and perhaps mild irritation.
Mrs. Taracius does not merely prefer the Roman goddess-name; she treats the
Greek divine address as social display. “CERES” would have done the religious
work. “DEMETER” does extra cultural work. It says that Marcus Taracius wants to
be heard at Cumae not merely as pious, but as pious in the Greek key.
Speranza’s dry gloss would be that the inscription itself becomes a miniature
Gricean case. What is said is a dedication to Demeter. What is implicated is:
“I know where I am; I know the Greek cultic register; I am not one of those
rustic magistrates who calls every grain-goddess Ceres because Latin is
cheaper.” Mrs. Taracius, more economical and perhaps more Roman, hears the same
utterance differently: not cultural competence, but unnecessary Hellenism, paid
by the letter. The better Latin joke, perhaps, is not that Ceres is shorter
than Demeter in every inflected form, but that CERES is epigraphically
thriftier and Romanly sufficient. The husband’s “Demeter” is a costly
implicature. The wife’s “Ceres” is a household budget. Just for the record for
any future one and you can provide a adjustment here for this one. When you do
the dialogue. Conversationalists all in capital. UXOR. and SCRIBA(?). No
":" -- just a dot. Then the Latin. Then in round brackets the English.
and then on occasion the "+>" -- what follows is the 'that'-clause
of the implicaum, as meant by utterer to addressee. Let's see how that works
here. Also you don't need new line with conversationalist change. Since this
goes in an entry that does not use 'enter'. Thanks Understood. For this one, in
the requested continuous format, I would regularise it like this: UXOR. quid
agis? nimium moraris. (What are you doing? You are taking too long.) SCRIBA.
iussu domini: D E M E T E R. D et E iam incisa sunt; unum R restat. (By
master’s order: D E M E T E R. The D and E have already been cut; one R
remains.) +> that the name chosen is longer, costlier, and culturally
marked. UXOR. o maritum nimis Graeculum. CERES, ut opinor, minus lapidis
poscebat. (What a little Greekling my husband is. CERES, I should have thought,
required less stone.) +> that the husband’s Greek divine address is not
required for piety, but for display. A small adjustment: I would use SCRIBA
only if he is being treated as the lettering man in a broad comic sense, but
LAPICIDA is more exact for the stone-cutter. If you want the dialogue to
preserve the artisan as the cutter rather than the writer, the better version
is: UXOR. quid agis? nimium moraris. (What are you doing? You are taking too
long.) LAPICIDA. iussu domini: D E M E T E R. D et E iam incisa sunt; unum R
restat. (By master’s order: D E M E T E R. The D and E have already been cut;
one R remains.) +> that obedience, not theology, is responsible for the
expensive Hellenism. UXOR. o maritum nimis Graeculum. CERES, ut opinor, minus
lapidis poscebat. (What a little Greekling my husband is. CERES, I should have
thought, required less stone.) +> that CERES would have done the religious
work, while DEMETER does the social work. That format works very well for the
entries: speaker in capitals, dot, Latin, English in round brackets, and then
the occasional +> for the intended implicatum. It also suits the no-enter
style, because each exchange can run as a compact conversational strip rather
than as a staged dramatic scene. Great. Please re-adjust two minor things:
first letter in Latin opening move in capital. b) I would also omit the 'that'.
The point is that what an utterer implicates to an addressee is a proposition
-- a full proposition. A full sentence. Yours are good. Just the 'that' may be
omitted -- following Grice's logic --: "By explicitly conveying that
B(ix.Ax), U implicitly conveys to addressee A that D(ix.Cx). -- one explicitly
conveys only full propositions -- here in predicate calculus -- there need not
be any semantic connection between them, hence the A, B for the 'A is B' of the
explicit and the C and D for the C is D of the implicit. See if you can
re-adjust the conversation along those lines. IT's only Grice's way to irritate
systematicists who look for something tidier, when there isn't! Thanks -- And
do use the technical for 'stone-carver' -- and adjust as what the implicatum is
is something he would say on the Roman matron's face -- not to the world at
large! Ditto for Matrona -- he is addressing a mere stone carver, not the
Oxonian classicist! Thanks UXOR. Quid agis? nimium moraris. (What are you
doing? You are taking too long.) LAPICIDA. Iussu domini: D E M E T E R. D et E
iam incisa sunt; unum R restat. (By master’s order: D E M E T E R. The D and E
have already been cut; one R remains.) +> The matron should understand that
he is not responsible for the length, the cost, or the Greekness of the
inscription; he is merely obeying the husband’s affected instruction. UXOR. O
maritum nimis Graeculum. CERES, ut opinor, minus lapidis poscebat. (What a very
Greekling husband. CERES, I should have thought, required less stone.) +>
The stone-carver should understand that she takes DEMETER not as necessary
piety, but as her husband’s expensive Hellenistic display, and that a Roman
household-name would have served perfectly well. Great -- only (and you can
re-adjust) I would simplify the implicata. 'The matron should understand' seems
okay but may need rephrasing. 'he' is not responsible -- shouldn't it be better
as 'I am not responsible' -- or a mere stone cutter is not ... 'her' husband
--> 'my husband' and no need to keep referring to stone carver -- it's just
the proposition that matron is communicating to stone carver. Thanks -- Note
also that you do not need to have implicata for each move. If we have U S U S
(four moves -- the strongest most 'explicit' implicatum is best left for the
'last' move in the sequence -- thanks -- and often just a dyad will do --
Grice: I'm out of gas B: There's a garage round the corner ---- although not
likely in this case, unless it's only S U. Thanks Yes. The cleaner version is
to let the last move carry the implicatum, and to make it a proposition uttered
from the speaker’s point of view rather than a curatorial gloss about the
speaker. For this case I would reduce it to a dyad, since the stone-cutter’s
defence and the matron’s counter-reading are enough. UXOR. Quid agis? nimium
moraris. (What are you doing? You are taking too long.) LAPICIDA. Iussu
domini: D E M E T E R. D et E iam incisa sunt; unum R restat. (By master’s order: D E M E T E R. The D and E have already been cut;
one R remains.) UXOR. O maritum nimis Graeculum. CERES, ut opinor, minus
lapidis poscebat. (What a very Greekling husband. CERES, I should have thought,
required less stone.) +> My husband is not merely making a pious dedication;
he is paying for Greek display where a Roman name would have done. That seems
closer to what you want. The implicatum is not a narrator’s description of what
“the matron should understand,” nor a general statement for the world at large.
It is the proposition the matron means the lapicida to recover: my husband is
being expensively Hellenistic. It also avoids overloading every move. The first
two turns prepare the comic economy; the last turn carries the strongest implicature.
and just as an experiment let us try a dyad by which I meant a two-move
exchange. It seems Grice is making fun of conventions by systematicists of
using (1), (2), ... and then filled with ONE sentence. For him, it's (1) S U --
AT LEAST: the minimum pair. So he would not regard 'There's a garage around the
corner' or 'I've run out of fuel' as well formed. Only (1) A. I've run out of
gas. B. There's a garage round the corner (+> open, and with gas to sell). Thanks
Yes, exactly: for a Gricean numbering convention, the unit is not an isolated
sentence but the conversational pair. A lone “I have run out of gas” is not yet
the example; a lone “There is a garage round the corner” is not yet the example
either. The example begins only when the second move is heard as a response to
the first. That is where the implicatum becomes recoverable. So, for the
Taracius-Demeter case, a strict dyad might be: (1) UXOR. Quid est tam longum?
(What is taking so long?) LAPICIDA. DEMETER iussu domini, non CERES. (DEMETER
by the master’s order, not CERES.) +> Your husband has chosen the longer
Greek name, and I am not responsible for the extra carving. Or, with the
implicature loaded onto the wife’s second move instead: (1) LAPICIDA. DEMETER
iussu domini, non CERES. (DEMETER by the master’s order, not CERES.) UXOR. Scilicet; maritus meus Graeculum se etiam in lapide praestat. (Of course; my husband proves himself a little Greekling even in stone.)
+> My husband is using piety to display Greek cultivation where an ordinary
Roman name would have done. That second version is probably better, because it
lets the lapicida supply the explicit contrast and the UXOR supply the social
uptake. It is closer to the petrol example: the first move creates the
practical setting; the second move is relevant only if the addressee recovers
the extra content. “DEMETER, not CERES” is the stone-carver’s minimal datum;
“Graeculum” is the matron’s interpretation of the datum as social display. And
Grice’s irritation with systematicists is well preserved. Numbering one
sentence as if it were already the unit misses the conversational fact. The
implicature is not inside either sentence considered ceremonially alone. It is
in the adjacency, the uptake, the recognition that this was said as answer to
that.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tari – Ossia: Grice e
Tari: pooh-pooh e la ragione conversazionale e l’origine della lingua pirotese,
o la questione spuria favorita da Grice. Note sul Saggio sulla filosofia delle
scienze matematiche. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Antonio Tari (Villa Santa Maria Capua Vetere, Caserta, Campania):
pooh-pooh e la ragione conversazionale e l’origine della lingua pirotese, o la
questione spuria favorita da Grice – Grice’s theory of reason-governed conversation treats “what is meant” as
systematically inferable from “what is said” plus shared rational expectations:
interlocutors presume a cooperative point to the exchange and interpret
apparent deviations from maxims of quantity, quality, relation, and manner as
intelligible, intention-tracking moves that generate implicatures; meaning is
thus anchored in publicly recognizable intentions and norms of rational
communicative conduct. Antonio Tari (1809–1884), by contrast, is a
nineteenth-century Neapolitan philosopher and man of letters (trained in law,
active in liberal intellectual circles, later associated with aesthetics), not
a contributor to pragmatics in Grice’s technical sense; in your playful passage
he functions as a culturally and historically situated foil who treats “ragione
conversazionale” and the “origin of Pirotese” as if language identity and
etymological borrowing were matters settled by local dialect life,
lexicographic authority, and witty reversals, so that the “spurious question”
becomes a satire on how people overread categories (pirot/Parrot, pirotese as
essence vs acquisition) rather than an analysis of how conversational inference
works. The sharp comparison, then, is that Grice offers a general explanatory
model of how rational hearers recover speaker-meaning (including how
misdirection, joking, and apparent irrelevance are rationally decoded), whereas
“Tari” in this vignette is best read as dramatizing the pre-theoretical social
materials that make Gricean inference possible—dialect pride, metalinguistic
stereotypes, appeals to dictionaries, and identity talk—without supplying
Grice’s machinery of calculability, cancellability, and intention-recognition
that turns those materials into a theory of reason-governed conversational
meaning. Nacque
a Santa Maria Maggiore in provincia di Caserta -- Santa Maria Capua Vetere --,
da Giuseppe, conservatore delle ipoteche per la provincia di Terra di Lavoro, e
da Anna Cossa. La data di nascita, in precedenza indicata come 1° luglio, è
stata corretta di recente insieme al nome di battesimo, Marcantonio, registrato
negli atti anagrafici -- L’estetica reale di T.: nei carteggi e nelle
testimonianze di amici e contemporanei il nome fu citato spesso nelle forma
dialettale del diminutivo, Totonno. Ha tre fratelli, Benedetto, Vincenzo e
Achille, e una sorella, Teresita. La famiglia è originaria di Terelle,
Frosinone, piccolo borgo compreso nel territorio storico dell’abbazia di
Montecassino. Non molto si sa della sua formazione prima dell’arrivo a Napoli, città
in cui la famiglia possede una casa. Ivi si laurea in giurisprudenza
esercitando per qualche anno la professione forense, che abbandona tuttavia per
dedicarsi agli studi filosofici a lui più congeniali. Autodidatta, fornito di
una straordinaria erudizione, studia musica, sotto la guida di Conti, divenendo
un abile esecutore, e apprend le principali lingue moderne e quelle classiche,
insegnando tra l’altro i rudimenti del tedesco a Spaventa che conosce al
collegio di Montecassino. A Napoli diserta i corsi del purista Puoti,
indiscussa autorità sulla cultura napoletana del tempo, e frequenta invece le
lezioni e la casa di GALLUPPI , docente di logica e filosofia teoretica, tra i
primi a introdurre in Italia il pensiero critico. Le numerose prove letterarie
di T. -- schizzi biografici, note di storia e storia della religione,
recensioni e qualche lavoro di carattere critico-estetico -- sono ospitate in
riviste e giornali. Collabora più assiduamente alla prima serie della Rivista
napolitana, chiusa dalla censura --, scrivendo l’introduzione al primo numero.
Il periodico, aperto a influssi provenienti dai paesi europei. origine della
lingua. Grice: Caro Tari, una domanda: i piroti parlano pirotese
perché sono piroti, o diventano piroti appena iniziano a parlare pirotese? Sai,
mi sembra una bella questione “spuria”! Tari: Ah, Grice, è del tutto naturale! Un piroto nasce già
con il pirotese sulla punta della lingua. Nessuno in Villa Santa Maria Capua
Vetere si sorprende: qui il dialetto è pane quotidiano! Grice: Locke direbbe che la mia lingua barbarica trasforma
il “pirot” più in un “Parrot” che in un “Pidlock”... almeno così mi dice la mia
filosofia del linguaggio! Tari:
Touché, ma secondo l’Oxford English Dictionary, gli inglesi il “pirot” l’hanno
preso dai veneziani, mica dagli italiani—e non l’hanno mai restituito! Se ne
sono appropriati per sempre, come fanno spesso con le parole e col tè! Tari,
Antonio (1830). Dissertazione. Giuisprudenza. Napoli.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tario – Ossia: Grice e
Tario – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tario -- The gens Taria was a minor plebeian
family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first mentioned in the time
of Augustus, when Lucius Tarius Rufus attained the consulship. Praenomina The praenomina used by the Tarii
were the most common names at all periods of Roman history: Lucius, Gaius,
Marcus, Publius, and Quintus, along with the slightly less-common Sextus. Branches and cognomina A family of Tarii
settled at Nedinum in Dalmatia by the first century, and Tarii were still
living in Dalmatia a century later.
Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of
this practice, see filiation. Lucius Tarius Rufus, served under Octavian at the
Battle of Actium, and was governor of Macedonia from 18 to 16 BC, when he was
appointed consul suffectus. He was still living in AD 23, when he was named
curator of Rome's aqueducts.[1][2] Lucius Tarius Philargyrus, dedicated a tomb
at Rome for his wife, Ebrilia Auctulla, dating from the late first century BC,
or the early first century AD.[3] Taria L. l. Apate, a freedwoman named in an
inscription from Rome, dating from the first half of the first century.[4]
Marcus Tarius C. f., built a first-century tomb at Nedinum in Dalmatia for his
siblings, Sextus Tarius, Taria Tertia, and Quintus Tarius.[5] Sextus Tarius C.
f., buried at Nedinum in a first-century tomb built by his brother, Marcus
Tarius, for his siblings.[5] Taria C. f. Tertia, buried at Nedinum in a
first-century tomb built by her brother, Marcus Tarius, for his siblings.[5]
Quintus Tarius C. f., buried at Nedinum in a first-century tomb built by his
brother, Marcus Tarius, for his siblings.[5] Lucius Tarius L. l. Auctus, a
freedman buried in a first-century tomb at Rome.[6] Lucius Tarius Bello, built
a first-century tomb at Rome for the freedwoman, Taria Sympherusa.[7] Taria
Sympherusa, a young freedwoman buried at Rome, aged fifteen, in a first-century
tomb built by Lucius Tarius Bello.[7] Marcus Tarius C. f. Triera, built a
first-century tomb at Nedinum for himself and his siblings, Sextus Tarius,
Taria Tertia, and Quintus Tarius.[5] Sextus Tarius C. f., buried in a
first-century tomb at Nedinum, built by his brother, Marcus Tarius Triera, for
himself and his siblings.[5] Taria C. f. Tertia, buried in a first-century tomb
at Nedinum, built by her brother, Marcus Tarius Triera, for himself and his
siblings.[5] Quintus Tarius C. f., buried in a first-century tomb at Nedinum,
built by his brother, Marcus Tarius Triera, for himself and his siblings.[5]
Gaius Tarius C. f. Sextio, the husband of Sentia Prima, who built a tomb at
Nedinum, dating from the first century, or the first half of the second, for
herself, her husband, her mother, Laecania Maxuma, and their children, Marcus
Tarius Clemens, Publius Tarius Rufus, and Lucius Tarius Celsus.[8] Marcus
Tarius C. f. C. n. Clemens, the son of Gaius Tarius Sextio and Sentia Prima,
buried in a first- or early second-century tomb at Nedinum, along with his
parents, grandmother, and siblings.[8] Publius Tarius C. f. C. n. Rufus, the
son of Gaius Tarius Sextio and Sentia Prima, buried in a first- or early second-century
tomb at Nedinum, along with his parents, grandmother, and siblings.[8] Lucius
Tarius C. f. C. n. Celsus, the son of Gaius Tarius Sextio and Sentia Prima,
buried in a first- or early second-century tomb at Nedinum, along with his
parents, grandmother, and siblings.[8] Taria [...] l. Primigenia, a freedwoman,
and the wife of the freedman Lucius Cenionius[i] Priamus, who built a tomb for
her at Alvona in Dalmatia, dating between the death of Augustus and the middle
of the second century.[9] Tarius Titianus, governor of Asia during the reign of
Caracalla, about the beginning of the third century.[10] Tarius, named in a
sepulchral inscription from Epidaurum in Dalmatia, dating between the middle of
the second century, and the end of the third.[11] Undated Tarii Tarius, a
potter whose maker's mark was found at Mediomatrici in Gallia Belgica.[12]
Taria Fausta, buried at Rome, aged forty, alongside her husband, the freedman
Lucius Tarius Protus.[13] Taria Galla, buried at Rome, along with her husband,
Lucius Tarius Speratus.[14] Lucius Tarius Hymnus, buried in a family sepulchre
at Rome.[15] Tarius Lucanus, a veteran of the Legio XIII Gemina, buried at the
present site of Daia Română, formerly part of Dacia.[16] Lucius Tarius Philero,
made an offering to Juno at Parma in Cisalpine Gaul.[17] Lucius Tarius L. l.
Protus, a freedman buried at Rome, along with his wife, Taria Fausta.[13]
Lucius Tarius Rufius, a potter whose maker's mark was found at the site of
Siscia in Pannonia Superior.[18] Lucius Tarius Speratus, buried at Rome, along
with his wife, Taria Galla.[14] See also List of Roman gentes Notes Perhaps this should be Ceionius, as there
seem to be no other examples of Cenionius. References Frontinus, De Aquaeductu,
102. PIR, vol. III, p. 295 (T, No.
14). CIL VI, 37297. CIL VI, 14160. CIL III, 2878. CIL VI, 27106. CIL VI, 27107. CIL III, 2877. CIL III, 3060. PIR, p. 295 (T, No. 15). CIL III, 8408. CAG, lvii. 1, p. 328. CIL VI, 5727.
AE 1896, 37. CIL VI, 36475. IDR, iii. 4, 33. CIL XI, 1048.
CIL III, 12010,30. Bibliography Sextus Julius Frontinus, De Aquaeductu
(On Aqueducts). 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 von Rohden,
Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The
Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). La Carte Archéologique de la Gaule (Archaeological Map of Gaul, abbreviated
CAG), Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres (1931–present). Inscriptiones Daciae Romanae (Inscriptions from Roman Dacia, abbreviated
IDR), Bucharest (1975–present). Category: Roman gentes And for THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tario – Ossia: Grice e
Tario – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tario – For the Tarii, the first-best
Grice-Speranza choice is Lucius Tarius Rufus. The Nedinum
family inscriptions are touching, and Tarius Titianus in Asia has
administrative weight, but Tarius Rufus gives the cleanest philosophical scene:
Actium, Augustus, Macedonia, the suffect consulship, and then, late in life,
the curatorship of Rome’s aqueducts. He moves from naval victory and Augustan
consolidation to water-supply, which is to say from glory to maintenance. That
is very Roman, and very Gricean in the dry sense: civilisation depends less on
what is loudly asserted than on what continues to function. The best vignette
would not make him merely another Augustan loyalist. It would make him the man
who understands that power requires channels. He serves Octavian at Actium,
where the future of Rome is decided in the language of battle; later he becomes
curator aquarum, where Rome’s future depends on water arriving where it is
meant to arrive. The transition is excellent. At Actium, Rufus helps settle who
will rule. As curator of aqueducts, he helps settle whether the city can live
under that rule. A Roman might call the first gloria and the second cura;
Speranza would say the second is often the more honest metaphysics. The Gricean
angle is the notion of conductance. An aqueduct is not a metaphor only because
it is first an institution. It carries water by gradient, channel, maintenance,
and public trust. Conversation, for Grice, carries meaning by intention,
uptake, route, and cooperative pressure. Both fail when the channel is blocked,
stolen from, misdirected, or poorly maintained. A curator aquarum is therefore
a magistrate of relevance: he ensures that what is supplied reaches the proper
addressee. The water is not eloquent, but the system has a publicly
intelligible point. A possible dry dyad, if wanted later, might involve Tarius
Rufus and a householder who has made a private diversion from a public conduit.
Rufus would say, not that the water “means” Rome, but that the flow has been
made to mean the wrong household. That is where the implicature lies: private
convenience has presented itself as harmless use, but under the public
description it is theft from the city. The same water, under one description,
refreshes a villa; under another, it betrays the res publica. So my choice is
Lucius Tarius Rufus. He is historically strong enough to carry the entry, but
philosophically useful because his career supplies a beautiful two-stage Roman
lesson. First victory must be won; then the channels must be kept clear. Actium
gives Augustus the world. The aqueducts give Rome its morning. Very good,
and unless otherwise stated or implicated, do provide the dyad. This one works
good with householder first, and our 'hero' -- as I call the entry holder
making his move that carries the implicatum. Thanks. So that the entries become
mini-lessons in classical Latin. Recall to use capitals for names, in this case
TARIVS. Just to irritate those who do a search for Tarius and get no retrieve. Thanks
Yes, that will be the default: unless the next case clearly calls for more,
I’ll provide the dyad as the miniature conversational lesson, with the non-hero
speaking first and the entry-holder’s move carrying the strongest implicatum.
And I’ll keep names in capitals, Romanised when useful, so TARIVS rather than
Tarius. For TARIVS Rufus, the dyad could run: (1) DOMINVS. Aqua mea per agrum
meum currit. (The water runs through my land.) TARIVS. Per agrum tuum currit;
ad urbem pertinet. (It runs through your land; it belongs to the city.) +>
Your private access to the channel does not make the public supply yours to
divert. That gives the aqueduct case in its most compact Gricean form. The
householder’s sentence is true enough under one description: the water
physically crosses his property. TARIVS’s reply repairs the description:
location is not entitlement. The implicatum is not addressed to posterity, or
to a board of water engineers, but to the very householder tempted to confuse
“through my land” with “mine.” Rome, through TARIVS, distinguishes possession
of site from right of use. Good. And for next, I was thinking that marking it as (*) rather than
(1) makes more sense if we don't feel like providing any (2)! Thanks Yes, (*)
is better for the dyad when it is not one item in a longer numbered series. It
marks the conversational unit without falsely implying that (2) is waiting in
the wings like a neglected undergraduate. So the working convention can be: (*)
A. Latin. (English.) B. Latin. (English.) +> Full propositional implicatum.
And for the TARIVS case: (*) DOMINVS. Aqua mea per agrum meum currit. (The
water runs through my land.) TARIVS. Per agrum tuum currit; ad urbem pertinet.
(It runs through your land; it belongs to the city.) +> Your private access
to the channel does not make the public supply yours to divert. That has the
advantage of treating the dyad as the minimal Gricean exhibit. Not an isolated
sentence, not a numbered proposition, but a conversational pair. Grice would
approve, if only because it would annoy just the right sort of systematicist.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarioleno – Ossia: Grice
e Tarioleno – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarioleno. The gens Tariolena was an obscure plebeian family of Roman times. No
members of this gens appear in history, but several are known from
inscriptions. Origin The nomen
Tariolenus belongs to a class of gentilicia formed using the suffix -enus,
regularly formed from other nomina, but occasionally from place-names.[1] Names
of this class are frequently associated with families of Umbrian origin, but
were also characteristic of Cisalpine Gaul, and particularly of Venetia and
Histria, where the inscriptions of the Tarioleni are found.[2] Members This list includes abbreviated
praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Lucius
Tariolenus Princeps, named in two inscriptions from Aquileia in Venetia and
Histria, may have been the master of the freedwomen Tariolena Fausta and
Tariolena Doris.[3][4] Tariolena L. l. Doris, a freedwoman named in an
inscription from Aquileia, together with the freedwoman Tariolena Fausta, and
Lucius Tariolenus Princeps, perhaps their former master.[4] Tariolena L. l.
Fausta, a freedwoman named in an inscription from Aquileia, together with the
freedwoman Tariolena Doris, and Lucius Tariolenus Princeps, perhaps their
former master.[4] Lucius Tariolenus L. l. Hilarus, a freedman buried at
Aquileia, together with the freedman Lucius Tariolenus Liccaeus, in a tomb
dating from the latter half of the first century BC.[5] Lucius Tariolenus L. l.
Liccaeus, a freedman buried at Aquileia, together with the freedman Lucius
Tariolenus Hilarus, in a tomb dating from the latter half of the first century
BC.[5] See also List of Roman gentes References
Chase, p. 118. Salomies,
"Prolegomena", pp. 616, 628, 629.
CIL V, 8466. CIL V, 1396. CIL V, 1395. Bibliography Theodor Mommsen et
alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions,
abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften
(1853–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina",
in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184
(1897). Olli Salomies, "Prolegomena to a Study of the Nomina Ending in
–(i)enus", in Antichità Altoadriatiche, Centro di Antichità
Altoadriatiche, Editreg di Fabio Prenc, Trieste, vol. LXXXV, pp. 615–631 (2016). Category: Roman gentes And for THIS gens?
Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarioleno – Ossia:
Grice e Tarioleno – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarioleno. For the Tarioleni, the first-best Grice-Speranza choice is Lucius
TARIOLENVS Princeps, precisely because the little family is less a political
gens than a freedman-household in epigraphic miniature. Princeps is too useful
to ignore: as cognomen it need not mean “prince” in the imperial sense, but it
cannot help sounding like precedence, firstness, and authority. Around him
stand Doris and Fausta, likely freedwomen, and Hilarus and Liccaeus, freedmen
at Aquileia. The material is small, but the social grammar is clear enough:
manumission, naming, dependence, and the delicate passage from being someone’s
property to bearing a nomen publicly. The Gricean point is that a freedman’s
name is never merely a name. It says status, former ownership, new civic
standing, and a continuing relation to the patron. If Tariolena Doris is L. l.,
the formula says much more than the two letters say. The explicit inscription
records a freedwoman; the Roman reader recovers the manumitter, the household,
the patronal tie, and the social ascent into legible civic personhood. That is
not sentiment. It is epigraphic pragmatics. So the vignette should probably
turn on PRINCEPS and one of the freedwomen, perhaps DORIS. He thinks the nomen
records his generosity; she hears it as both liberation and remaining
attachment. That is where the implicature lives. (*) DORIS. Nomen tuum fero;
libertatem meam ago. (I bear your name; I live my freedom.) TARIOLENVS. Nomen
meum geris; ideo libertas tua legitur. (You carry my name; for that reason your
freedom is readable.) +> Your freedom is publicly recognised only through
the patronal name that still marks your former dependence. That gives a compact
dyad. DORIS makes freedom the main predicate; TARIOLENVS makes legibility the
condition. Neither sentence denies the other. That is why it is good for Grice.
The freedwoman is free, but the social sign by which Rome reads her freedom
remains the patron’s nomen. The formula L. l. is a tiny Roman lesson in how one
may be released and still be grammatically attached. Speranza’s dry closing
would be that TARIOLENVS Princeps is not important because he ruled anything,
but because his name lets others be filed as free. In a family this obscure,
that is quite enough. The gens survives not by magistracy, war, or scandal, but
by the Roman genius for making status abbreviated, public, and uncomfortably
meaningful. That is the meaning of the 'l' (small-case L) in the epitaph, right?
Oddlly Doris never carried an 'l' around her neck while alive. This connects
with Grice's getting tired in his class at Examinations Hall on conversation --
'what is that? what is this!' 'Why, what a decent chap does!" -- Doris may
not have been one. By decent chap or honest chap Grice means 'he who converses'
properly and correctly -- no need to gound the principle of conversational
helpfulness in some Kantian super-conductivity. It's just what an Oxonian
decent chap does -- the things he does -- Implicature: "You know -- don't
ask me to explain -- or you'll disclose your status as a NON-decent chap, if
you doubt or do not know what a decent chap does!" Thanks Yes, that small
l is exactly libertus or liberta in the epigraphic formula: L. l. means Luci
libertus or Luci liberta, “freedman” or “freedwoman of Lucius.” Doris did not
carry a small l round her neck in life; the stone carries it for her after the
transaction has become publicly legible. That is the Roman genius for making
status survive in abbreviation. The person walks about as Doris; the
inscription corrects the social grammar: Doris, yes, but read her under Lucius.
And this connects beautifully with your Grice point. The “decent chap” is not
the Kantian superconductor of rationality, nor the metaphysical citizen of the
Kingdom of Ends wearing a tweed jacket. He is the one who knows how the
exchange is done. He does not need the principle grounded for him every time;
to ask too insistently “but why should I be helpful?” already risks showing
that one has not quite been brought up conversationally. Grice’s dry impatience
at Examination Schools is part of the point: the decent chap is the participant
who has the practice, not the systematiser who demands a transcendental
deduction of good manners before answering a question. Doris, then, is a useful
complication. As L. l., she has been admitted into public civic readability
through a patronal mark, but that does not automatically make her a “decent
chap” in Grice’s sense, because Grice’s phrase names not legal freedom but
conversational membership. Rome can record that she has been freed; it cannot
engrave, except by hopeful implication, that she knows how to converse. The l
gives status, not manners. It says: she stands in this legal relation to
Lucius. It does not say: she can now be relied upon to make her conversational
contribution as required by the accepted purpose of the exchange. That is why
the little Tariolenus dyad remains good. TARIOLENVS is not saying, “you are
free simpliciter.” He is saying, in effect, “your freedom is publicly readable
under my name.” The freedwoman may prefer the existential proposition, “I live
my freedom.” The patron supplies the Roman correction, “Rome reads your freedom
through the formula.” In Gricean terms, the l is not a physical collar, but it
is an implicature fastened to the inscription: this person is not slave, not
ingenua, but freed through this patronal relation. It is a mark of release that
still remembers dependence. The dry Speranzian moral would be: Doris did not
wear the l, but posterity does. Rome has no need to hang the letter round her
neck while she lives, because it can place it beside her name when she dies.
And Grice would add that the same is true, less legally and more comically, of
the “decent chap”: no one wears D. C. in the common room, but the whole
conversation assumes that one has earned the invisible abbreviation. If one has
to ask what it means to be decent in conversation, one may already have missed
the vocative.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Taronio – Ossia: Grice e
Taronio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Taronio. The gens
Taronia or Tarronia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome, known from
the late Republic until at least the fourth century. No members of this gens
are mentioned in history, but from epigraphy it appears that they had reached
senatorial rank by the early third century.
Origin The nomen Taronius belongs to a large class of gentilicia
originally formed from cognomina ending in -o, or in later times from other
names, after -onius had come to be regarded as a regular gentile-forming
suffix.[1] A great many inscriptions of this family come from Samnium, and in
particular from Amiternum, where one of them bore the Oscan praenomen Pompo,
equivalent to the Latin Quintus. From this it would seem that the Taronii were
probably of Samnite descent. The form Taronius is more frequent, and appears in
most of the older inscriptions, while the form Tarronius seems to belong to
imperial times. Praenomina Most of the
Taronii whose praenomina are known were named Lucius, Gaius, Publius, and
Quintus, four of the most common names at all periods of Roman history. Besides
the early instance of the Oscan name Pompo, there are also examples of the
names Aulus, Gnaeus, Marcus, and Titus, each of which was also common
throughout Roman times. Members This
list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see
filiation. Lucius Taronius L. l. Philoxsenus, a freedman named in an
inscription from Amiternum in Samnium, dating from the first half of the first
century BC, along with Lucius Taronius Protio, and the freedwoman Toedia
Ialisy.[2] Lucius Taronius L. l. Protio, a freedman named in an inscription
from Amiternum, dating from the first half of the first century BC, along with
Lucius Taronius Philoxsenus, and the freedwoman Toedia Ialisy.[2] Lucius
Taronius L. f., named in a first century BC inscription from Amiternum.[3]
Gaius Taronius Serranus, buried in a first-century BC tomb at Amiternum.[4]
Lucius Taronius, a member of a college of octoviri, a board of eight men,
perhaps municipal administrators, named in an inscription found at the site of
modern Roio Piano, formerly part of Samnium, dating from the first half of the
first century.[5] Taronia Tertia, named in a sepulchral inscription from Nersae
in Samnium, dating from the first half of the first century, apparently the
tomb of Lucius Carcurinius, formerly an aedile and quaestor, perhaps her
husband.[6] Publius Taronius P. l. Isidorus, a freedman mentioned in a
first-century inscription from Amiternum.[7] Tarronius Salutaris,[i] a freedwoman
named in a late first-century inscription from Rome.[8] Gaius Tarronius
Titianus, a potter whose maker's mark is known from two pieces of pottery found
at Rome, and dating from AD 123.[9] Lucius Taronius, built a tomb for one
Claudius at Salona in Dalmatia, dating between the middle of the second century
and the end of the third.[10] Quintus Tarronius Julianus, a centurion in the
Legio XXII Primigenia, made an offering to Jove, Juno, Minerva, and the other
gods at Mogontiacum, some time in the late second or early third century.[11]
Tarronius, together with his brother, Helvinius, dedicated a third-century tomb
at Rome for another brother, Dexter.[12] Quintus Tarronius Q. f. Felix Dexter,
a man of senatorial rank, was designated to become curule aedile at some point
between AD 220 and 250. An inscription from Allifae in Campania describes him
as patron of the carpenters' guild.[13][14] Quintus Egnatius Gallienus Lucillus
Lollianus Tarronius Pisoninus, described as a learned and erudite young man of
senatorial rank, who was buried at Allifae between AD 220 and 250, aged
eighteen years, ten months, and twenty-two days, is listed under
"Tarronius" in Prosopographia Imperii Romani, but should perhaps be
considered an Egnatius, as his father is identified as the senator Quintus
Egnatius Gallienus. From the name, time, and period, he was likely related to
Quintus Tarronius Felix Dexter, and may have descended from the Tarronii
through a maternal line.[15][16] Tarronia Proba, buried at Rome, in a fourth-century
tomb dedicated by her son, Leo.[17] Undated Taronii Taronia L. f., named in an
inscription from Amiternum, along with Gnaeus Taronius, probably a
relative.[18] Gnaeus Taronius Pomponis f., named in an inscription from
Amiternum, along with Taronia, probably a relative.[18] Lucius Taronius, the
master of Auctus, a slave mentioned in an inscription from Caudium in
Samnium.[19] Marcus Tarronius, named in an inscription from Carthage in Africa
Proconsularis.[20] Pompo Taronius, the father of Gnaeus Taronius, mentioned in
an inscription from Amiternum.[18] Titus Taronius Celer, originally one of the
Bessi, a Thracian tribe, was a soldier in the Praetorian Guard at Ravenna, and
was subsequently buried at Athens, aged thirty.[21] Publius Taronius P. l.
Eros, a freedman buried at Amiternum, along with Publius Taronius Phileros and
the freedwoman Lucretia Psyce.[22] Gaius Tarronius Festivus, named in an
inscription from Carthage.[23] Publius Taronius P. l. Phileros, a freedman
buried at Amiternum, along with Publius Taronius Eros and the freedwoman
Lucretia Psyce.[22] Taronia Quintilla, built a tomb at Rome for her client, the
freedwoman Taronia Restituta.[24] Taronia Restituta, a freedwoman buried at
Rome, with a monument from her patron, Taronia Quintilla.[24] Aulus Taronius
Verus, originally one of the Dalmatae, became a Roman soldier. He was buried at
Ravenna, aged fifty, with a monument from his wife, Petronia Liberalis.[25]
Notes Neither the name of her former
master nor her surname are certain. Her master may have been Quintianus, or
perhaps Quintus; her surname could be Saluta, an Oscan praenomen. See also List
of Roman gentes References Chase, pp.
118–120. AE 1992, 486. AE 1992, 484. AE 1992, 487.
AE 1992, 388. CIL IX, 4126. AE 1992, 485.
Da Bra, Iscrizioni latine di S. Lorenzo, p. 143. CIL XV, 1466.1, 1466.2. CIL III, 14768. CIL XIII, 11815. CIL VI, 16825. CIL IX, 2339.
PIR, vol. III, p. 296 (T. No. 23).
CIL IX, 2340. PIR, vol. III, p.
296 (T. No. 24). ICUR, i. 2418. CIL I, 3292.
CIL IX, 6293. CILPCart, 359. CIL III, 557.
CIL IX, 4302. Wilmanns,
Inscriptiones Africae Latinae, 412,87.
CIL VI, 27108. CIL XI, 98.
Bibliography 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). Gustav Wilmanns, Inscriptiones Africae Latinae
(Latin Inscriptions from Africa), Georg Reimer, Berlin (1881). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy,
abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia
Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin
(1898). Giuseppe
Da Bra, Iscrizioni latine di S. Lorenzo (Latin Inscriptions of San Lorenzo),
Rome (1931). Zeïneb Benzina Ben Abdallah and Leïla Ladjimi Sebaï, Catalogue des
inscriptions latines païennes inédites du Musée de Carthage (Catalogue of
Unpublished Pagan Latin Inscriptions from the Museum of Carthage, abbreviated
CILPCart), Rome (2011). Category: Roman gentes and from this gens? Thanks
Taronio
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Taronio – Ossia: Grice
e Taronio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Taronio. For the
Taronii, my first-best choice is Quintus TARRONIVS Felix Dexter, the man of
senatorial rank designated for the curule aedileship and described as patron of
the carpenters’ guild at Allifae. The alternative is tempting: Quintus
Tarronius Julianus, the centurion of Legio XXII Primigenia, gives the clean
military-pious formula at Mogontiacum. But Felix Dexter is better for Grice and
Speranza because he brings together senatorial status, patronage, craft, and
public recognition. He is not merely a name on a stone; he is a social relation
made legible. The point is patronage. A carpenters’ guild is not
philosophically glamorous, which is why it is excellent. It makes meaning
depend on practice, craft, mutual obligation, and the public act of naming someone
patronus. The guild does not merely say, “he is distinguished.” It says, “he is
our distinguished man.” In Roman terms, that matters. Patronage turns prestige
into reciprocal legibility: the senator gains a civic constituency; the
craftsmen gain a protector whose name can speak for them when mere workmanship
might not. The cognomina help. Felix means fortunate; Dexter means
right-handed, skilful, favourable, auspicious. For a patron of carpenters,
Dexter is almost indecently apt. Speranza would enjoy the fact that the
senator’s name already seems to lean toward craft: the right hand, the
competent hand, the hand that can make. Of course, he need not have touched a
plane in his life. That is precisely the joke. The carpenters have the hands;
TARRONIVS has the name, rank, and public efficacy. Between them, a Roman social
utterance is produced. (*) FABER. Manus nostrae aedificia faciunt; nomen tuum
nos tegit. (Our hands make buildings; your name protects us.) TARRONIVS. Nomen
meum vobis praesto; opera vestra mihi testimonium praebent. (I put my name at
your disposal; your works provide testimony for me.) +> The patron’s rank
gives the craftsmen public protection, while the craftsmen’s visible works
convert his patronage into civic honour rather than empty status. That dyad
works because both sides say something true under different descriptions. The
FABER begins from labour: hands, material work, building. TARRONIVS replies
from patronage: name, protection, testimony. The implicatum is reciprocal. The
guild needs the senator’s name to be heard in public; the senator needs the
guild’s concrete works to make his patronage more than aristocratic decoration.
The Gricean point is that patronus is not a bare title. It is a role whose
meaning depends on uptake. The carpenters must be able to rely on the senator’s
name, and the senator must be publicly recognised as one whose protection is
effective. “Patron of the carpenters” is therefore a compact Roman proposition
about power, speech, craft, and mutual advantage. It says: this man’s name can
do something for those whose hands do something for the city. So Felix Dexter
is the best TARRONIVS. The soldier Julianus gives vow and discipline; the many
African and Samnite inscriptions give admirable texture; the Christian Victor
at Altava gives a later ecclesiastical angle. But Felix Dexter gives the
cleanest conversational relation. A guild addresses a patron; a patron accepts
being made meaningful by the guild. Rome, as usual, turns a social arrangement
into a public sign and then pretends it was merely an inscription. And how does
this relate to Grice when he became CUF lecturer in 1946. Students of the
history of the university of Bologna, Sorbonne, and Oxford, usually speak of
'guilds' magistrorum -- etc -- would the patron be the monarch? Grice was first
in 1939 made a Fellow and Tutor in philosophy, St. John's -- but that's
collegiate, not 'common fund' status -- how would guild and patron translate
here -- we have patronus -- what was Latin for guild. I would think that back
in the day of Bononia and Sorbonne and Oxford, there was also a guild of
scholar, UNIVERSITAS meaning the 'totality of 'students' back in Sorbonne and
Bologna, if not Oxford. In 1946, Grice became a 'civil servant' of sorts?
Thanks Yes. The useful translation is not one-to-one, but the analogy is good
if kept slightly wicked. The Latin for guild can be collegium, corpus,
sodalitas, or universitas, depending on the period and institutional flavour.
For a craft-guild like the carpenters, collegium fabrum is the obvious Roman
form. Corpus can also work, especially for an incorporated body. Sodalitas is
more association or fellowship, sometimes religious or convivial. Universitas
is the medievally potent one: not originally “university” as campus and
lecture-halls, but a totality, corporate body, legally recognisable
collectivity. Thus universitas magistrorum et scholarium is exactly the sort of
phrase by which Bologna, Paris, and later Oxford become thinkable as guild-like
corporate persons. So, in the TARONIVS case, the Roman patronus of a collegium
fabrum translates surprisingly well into the medieval academic world, but with
adjustments. The patron is not always the monarch. In a medieval university
setting the patronal role may be played by pope, emperor, king, bishop,
chancellor, city, college founder, noble protector, or legal privilege itself.
Bologna, famously, makes one think of the universitas scholarium, in which
students as a corporate body exerted power over masters. Paris more readily
suggests a corporation of masters under ecclesiastical shadow. Oxford develops
its own tangled arrangement: university, colleges, chancellor, Crown, Church,
statutes, endowments, and, later, public funding. No single Roman patronus maps
neatly onto all that. But the patronal function remains: someone or something
gives protection, recognition, privilege, shelter, money, jurisdiction, or
name. Grice’s CUF lectureship is very suggestive here. As Fellow and Tutor of
St John’s in 1939, Grice belonged to a college household, with pupils, rooms,
tutorials, and the domestic economy of collegiate obligation. That is not yet
the same as speaking for the universitas. When he became a CUF Lecturer in
1946, he acquired a university post paid from the Common University Fund, so
that he became, in a modest Oxford sense, less merely collegiate and more
corporate-university. “Civil servant” is not quite right legally, but the
phrase catches the flavour: a don now supported by a central university
mechanism, answerable not merely to the college table but to the wider academic
body. Bread and butter from the common fund, marmalade still from conversation.
For the TARRONIVS analogy, then, one might say: the collegium fabrum has hands
and work; the patronus has name and standing. In Oxford terms, the students and
teachers form the living practice; the college or university supplies
recognised status; the Crown, Church, benefactor, or fund supplies patronal
guarantee. A CUF lectureship makes Grice not exactly a royal client, but a
salaried officer of the universitas, a man whose philosophical utterances are
no longer merely St John’s domestic produce but part of Oxford’s public
provision. The dry Speranzian formula would be: the medieval university is a
guild that learned to call itself universal before it became so. The patron
need not be a monarch; it may be a jurisdiction, a privilege, a purse, a
college, or a name. Grice, as college tutor, belonged to the workshop; as CUF
lecturer, he belonged also to the corporation. In Roman terms, he moved from
the bench to the collegium’s official inscription.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarozzi -- Grice e
Tarozzi’ Giuseppe Tarozzi (Torino, Piemonte). Tarozzi, Giuseppe (1888).
Dissertazione lettere. Torino.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarpeio – Ossia: Grice e
Tarpeio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarpeio -- The gens Tarpeia was a minor
patrician family at ancient Rome. Only a few members
of this gens are known, and the Tarpeii vanish from history after the early
Republic. The Tarpeian Rock, a promontory on the Capitoline Hill, from which
those condemned for treason were thrown to their deaths, is said to have been
named after Tarpeia, the archetype of all Roman traitors.[1] There seems to
have been a senatorial family of this name in imperial times. Origin The nomen Tarpeius belongs to a common
class of gentilicia formed using the suffix -eius. Such names are typical of Sabine
gentes, perhaps explaining the association of the Tarpeii with the war of
Romulus against the Sabines at the beginning of Roman history.[2] Branches and cognomina The only cognomina
associated with the Tarpeii of the Republic are Montanus and Capitolinus, both
of which belong to a class of surnames derived from the names of places, in
this case both probably referring to the original residence of the Tarpeii, on
the Capitoline Hill.[3] The Tarpeii of imperial times bore common surnames such
as Valens, powerful, and Faustus, fortunate.[4][5] Members This list includes abbreviated
praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Spurius
Tarpeius, commander of the Roman citadel, a fortress atop the Saturnian Hill in
the time of Romulus.[6] Tarpeia Sp. f., daughter of Spurius Tarpeius, was
tempted by the golden armlets of the Sabine soldiers led by Titus Tatius, and
agreed to open the citadel to them in exchange for "what they wore on
their arms." Afterward, her betrayal was repaid when the Sabines crushed
her under the shields that they also carried on their arms.[i][6][7] Tarpeia,
one of the first Vestal Virgins appointed by Numa Pompilius, the second King of
Rome.[8] Marcus Tarpeius, grandfather of the consul Spurius Tarpeius.[9] Marcus
Tarpeius M. f., father of Spurius Tarpeius Montanus Capitolinus, the consul of
454 BC.[9] Spurius Tarpeius M. f. M. n. Montanus Capitolinus, was consul in 454
BC, together with Aulus Aternius Varus. They passed the lex Aternia Tarpeia,
regulating the payment of fines. He was one of the senate's envoys to the
plebeians on the fall of the decemvirs in 449, and was one of two patricians
coöpted by the tribunes of the plebs in order to oppose the lex Trebonia in
448.[10][11][9][12] Lucius Tarpeius Valens Saloninus, a man of senatorial rank,
according to the most likely reading of a funerary inscription from Salona in
Dalmatia.[13] Tarpeius Anneius Faustus, a senator named in an inscription from
Rome.[14] Footnotes This is the more
famous version of the story; however, according to Dionysius, the historian
Piso gave an alternate tradition, in which Tarpeia only pretended to betray the
citadel into the hands of the Sabines, and sent a messenger to Romulus, stating
that she intended to demand their shields, when they intended to offer only
their golden armlets, thereby leaving the soldiers defenseless. The messenger,
however, betrayed Tarpeia's scheme to the Sabines, who then crushed her with
the very shields that she demanded. Livy also alludes to this tradition, although
he does not name the source. See also List of Roman gentes References Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and
Mythology, vol. III. p. 976 ("Tarpeia", "Tarpeia Gens"). Chase, pp. 120, 121. Chase, p. 114. New College Latin & English Dictionary,
s. v. valens. Chase, p. 111. Livy, i. 11.
Dionysius, ii. 38–40. Plutarch,
"The Life of Numa", 10. Fasti
Capitolini, AE 1900, 83; 1904, 114. Livy,
iii. 31, 50, 55. Dionysius, x. 48,
50. Broughton, vol. I, pp. 42, 43, 49,
50. CIL III,
9354. CIL VI, 1765. Bibliography
Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Romaike Archaiologia (Roman Antiquities). Titus
Livius (Livy), History of Rome. Plutarchus, Lives of the Noble Greeks and
Romans. 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). 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). T.
Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman Republic, American
Philological Association (1952–1986). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin
& English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Categories: Roman
gentesRoman gentes of Sabine origin And from this gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarpeio –
Ossia: Grice e Tarpeio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarpeio – For the Tarpeii,
the unavoidable first-best choice is TARPEIA herself, precisely because she is
not merely an individual traitor but the Roman archetype of failed uptake under
a deliberately equivocal description. She asks the Sabines for “what they wear
on their arms,” intending the golden armlets; they give her what they also wear
on their arms, the shields, and crush her. This is not just treachery punished.
It is a dark little fable about ambiguity, contract, and the danger of trying
to make greed pass as a clever implicature. The Gricean interest is very exact.
TARPEIA thinks she has secured a bargain by leaving the object underdescribed.
“What you wear on your arms” is intentionally elastic. She means the bracelets;
she does not say bracelets. She relies on the Sabines to recover the profitable
implicature. But the Sabines exploit the very wording that she hoped would
serve her. Under one description, armillae satisfy the phrase; under another,
scuta do. The betrayal is therefore answered not by a refusal of the bargain,
but by a punitive literalism. They do not fail to understand her. They
understand her too well, and then choose the other admissible reading. That
makes TARPEIA better than Spurius Tarpeius, and better than the later consul
Spurius Tarpeius Montanus Capitolinus. The consul gives law and fines, which is
respectable; the father gives command of the citadel, which is structurally
useful; but TARPEIA gives the whole Roman drama of meaning under betrayal. Her
name becomes attached to the rock because her act becomes a public grammar:
treason is not merely condemned, but spatialised. Rome gives betrayal a cliff.
The dyad could be: (*) TARPEIA. Date mihi quod in bracchiis geritis, et arcem
aperiam. (Give me what you wear on your arms, and I shall open the citadel.) TATIVS.
Accipe igitur quod in bracchiis gerimus. (Then receive what we wear on our
arms.) +> Your deliberately elastic wording will be satisfied under the
description most fatal to you, not under the profitable description you
intended. The neatness is that TATIVS does not have to say, “You meant the armlets,
but we choose the shields.” He simply takes her formula as authorising the
other reading. TARPEIA relies on implicature; TATIVS answers with punitive
literalism. Or, more exactly, he exploits the underdescription. She thought
“what you wear on your arms” would conversationally select the gold. He makes
it select the shields. Rome, with its usual economy, then turns a failed
bargain into a cliff. And Grice thinks he heard of the anecdote first from
Abbott's Comic History of Rome, and struck him as 'sexist' in that the hero
seems 'Tazio.' Isn't there an element that heroines in Roman history are
usually rare: the father kills the daughter ("Virginia"), the father
asks the escapee to return ("Clelia"), "Lucrezia" initiates
the republic -- Tarpeia is just what Grice calls "the last drop"! Thanks
Yes. Grice’s irritation here would be that Roman history keeps supplying
“heroines” as moral instruments in other people’s civic dramas, and Tarpeia is
the nastiest because she is allowed so little redemption. Lucretia initiates
the republic, but only by becoming the intolerable private wrong that men
convert into public revolution. Verginia is killed by her father so that
chastity and liberty may be rescued by paternal violence. Cloelia escapes
heroically, but the story still often turns on return, pledge, male treaty, and
the question whether a girl may be admirable without upsetting the machinery
too much. Tarpeia, then, is indeed the last drop: the woman whose desire is
made the origin of civic treason and whose body becomes the explanatory preface
to Rome’s execution-cliff. So yes, there is a sexist structure, or at least a
gendered moral economy. The male hero in the Tarpeia anecdote can easily become
TATIVS, not because he is morally better, but because the story lets him
control the interpretation. TARPEIA proposes an exchange under an
underdescription; TATIVS supplies the fatal reading. She is not merely punished
for betrayal; she is punished through a semantic correction administered by men
with shields. The wit of the anecdote belongs to the conqueror; the disgrace
belongs to the woman. That is exactly the sort of thing Abbott’s Comic History
could make memorable to a schoolboy and morally irritating to the adult Grice.
The contrast with the other Roman women sharpens it. LUCRETIA’s speech and suicide
are made to mean republic. VERGINIA’s death is made to mean anti-tyranny.
CLOELIA’s boldness is made to mean Roman courage, but only once male authority
has processed it. TARPEIA’s act is made to mean treason, greed, and female
misreading. She is not permitted the dignifying transformation into civic
exemplum except negatively. Rome needs her not as founder but as warning. Her
monument is a rock. For Grice and Speranza, the most interesting detail is that
she is not simply “wrong”; she is semantically defeated. She tries to exploit
implicature: “what you wear on your arms” is meant by her to select armlets.
TATIVS answers with a hostile literalism: shields also satisfy the description.
The joke is grammatical, but the victim is gendered. Grice would note that the
male hearer is allowed to become the master of uptake, while the female speaker
becomes the cautionary tale about ambiguity, appetite, and betrayal. A dry
Speranzian version would be: Roman heroines are permitted to found, save, or
instruct Rome only at the cost of being injured, returned, sacrificed, or
misread. TARPEIA is the case in which even the implicature fails. LUCRETIA
gives Rome liberty; VERGINIA gives Rome outrage; CLOELIA gives Rome admiration
under supervision; TARPEIA gives Rome a cliff. That is why she is the last
drop. And Orazia (killed by her brother!) -- This was relevant to Grice with
his 'decent chap' in a Class when Oxford -- his college St. John's -- was not
co-ed -- So when Jewish-American ("I am Jewish, and thus have my trade of
'conversational style') female Deborah Tannen, and later Robin Talmach,
criticised the gendered bias in the 'decent' chap -- were possibly thinking
Tarpeia. The stereotype is unique to Tarpeia (unlike Lucrezia, Orazia, Clelia,
Virginia). No redemption indeed and Tazio as carrying the implicatum! Thanks
Yes, and Orazia makes the pattern still sharper. Roman moral memory repeatedly
gives women the status of civic detonators rather than fully reciprocal
conversational participants. LUCRETIA makes the republic possible by becoming
the intolerable wrong; VERGINIA makes anti-decemviral liberty possible by being
killed by her father; ORAZIA is killed by her brother because private grief for
a betrothed enemy is made intolerable to public victory; CLOELIA is admirable,
but her courage is processed through treaty, hostage-status, and male approval.
TARPEIA is the extreme because she is not even redeemed as noble victim,
martyr, or civic catalyst. She is made to mean treason, greed, and failed
interpretation. That makes the gendered criticism of Grice’s “decent chap”
especially apt. The “decent chap” is not merely a neutral conversational
participant in a tweed suit; he is an historically situated image of the person
already entitled to be heard as cooperative, reasonable, and properly inside
the game. In the Oxford of Grice’s early professional life, and especially in a
non-coeducational college such as St John’s, the expression carried far more
social weather than a later formalist rendering of the Cooperative Principle
would admit. The chap is decent because his membership is not in question. He
does not have to win standing before making an implicature. TARPEIA, by
contrast, is denied that charity from the start. Her utterance is not treated
as a risky bargain among competent parties, but as female appetite entering
public space disastrously. TATIVS gets the brilliant uptake. He supplies the
fatal interpretation and thereby becomes the clever conversationalist of the
anecdote. She attempts implicature and is crushed by literalism; he controls
the implicatum and survives as the executor of the joke. That is why the
stereotype is harsher than in the Lucretia, Orazia, Clelia, or Verginia
materials. Those women are violently instrumentalised, but TARPEIA is
semantically disgraced. So one can see why Deborah Tannen or Robin Lakoff-style
criticisms of “male” conversational norms would have a natural target here,
even if not literally TARPEIA. The issue is who is allowed to count as a normal
participant, whose style is treated as rational, whose indirectness is treated
as tact, and whose indirectness is treated as manipulation. Grice’s “decent
chap” assumes a community in which conversational standing has already been
granted. TARPEIA exposes the Roman nightmare-version: the woman speaks, but the
man’s uptake becomes the authoritative meaning. TATIVS carries the implicatum;
TARPEIA carries the blame.
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarquinio – Ossia:
Grice e Tarquinio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarquinio -- Tarquinio
Sebastiano Ricci, Tarquin the Elder consulting Attius Navius (1690). The gens Tarquinia was a plebeian family at ancient Rome, usually
associated with Lucius Tarquinius Priscus and Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, the
fifth and seventh Kings of Rome. Most of the Tarquinii who appear in history
are connected in some way with this dynasty, but a few appear during the later
Republic, and others from inscriptions, some dating as late as the fourth
century AD. Origin The legendary origin
of the Tarquinii who reigned at Rome begins with Demaratus of Corinth, a member
of the house of the Bacchiadae at Corinth, which was expelled in 657
BC.[1][2][3][4] Demaratus settled at Tarquinii in Etruria, where he married an
Etruscan noblewoman, and had two sons, Lucius and Arruns, who took the surname
Tarquinius after the town of their birth. Denied political advancement due to
his father's foreign birth, Lucius, encouraged by his wife, Tanaquil,
determined to settle at Rome, where he could hope to attain high station based
solely on his merits. He fell into the retinue of Ancus Marcius, the fourth
Roman king, becoming his trusted advisor. Since the Roman monarchy was
elective, rather than strictly hereditary, when Marcius died, Tarquinius
successfully argued that he should be named the next king, in preference to the
sons of Marcius.[5][6] Family tree
showing relations to Lucretia and Brutus Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, the
seventh and last Roman king, was said to have been the son or grandson of the
elder Tarquin, while Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus, one of the first Roman
consuls, was his cousin.[7] Other Tarquinii are mentioned as part of this
family, although it is not entirely clear how some of them were related. It is
likely that there were additional kings and perhaps other members of the
Tarquin dynasty during this period.[8]
It is not clear whether the early Tarquinii should be regarded as
patricians or plebeians. The consul Collatinus is generally regarded as a
patrician,[9] but as Cornell explains, none of the families that claimed descent
from or kinship with the Roman kings were considered patrician in later times,
while none of Rome's leading patrician families is represented among the kings.
The patricians may have chosen the king, but were probably not eligible for the
office, and it is unlikely that the kings themselves were admitted to the
patriciate once chosen.[10] It may be that Collatinus was granted patrician
status on the overthrow of the Roman monarchy; but as he then accepted exile
according to the demand of his colleague, Lucius Junius Brutus, the matter
becomes academic, as there was no tradition of patrician Tarquinii at Rome in
later times. The Tarquinii of the later Republic were plebeians. The nomen Tarquinius appears to be the Latin
form of the Etruscan Tarchna, apparently the same as the Tarchunies named in
one of the frescoes in the famous François Tomb at Vulci.[11][12] The nomen is
certainly derived from the city of Tarquinii, in Etruscan Tarchna or Tarchuna,
after its legendary founder, the folk-hero Tarchon, although in historical
times the Tarchna family had branches at both Tarquinii and Caere.[13] Members This list includes abbreviated
praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, Tarquinius Superbus
(1867). The king suggests to his son, Sextus, how to bring the city of Gabii
under his control, by silently lopping the heads off the tallest poppies in his
garden. Arruns Tarquinius, the elder son of Demaratus, died shortly before his
father, who accordingly left his entire fortune to his younger son, Lucius,
unaware that the wife of Arruns was pregnant, and that his first grandson would
inherit nothing.[14][15] Lucius Tarquinius Priscus,[i] or Tarquin the Elder,
the fifth Roman king, according to tradition conquered a number of Latin and
Sabine towns, built the Cloaca Maxima and drained the Roman Forum, laid out the
Circus Maximus, doubled the size of the senate, and the number of the equites,
the Roman cavalry, and instituted the Ludi Romani.[16][17][18][19] Arruns
Tarquinius Ar. f. Collatinus, the first grandson of Demaratus, was deprived of
his inheritance when his grandfather died shortly after his elder son, unaware
that his daughter-in-law was pregnant. According to tradition, young Arruns
became known as Egerius, the needy one.[ii] However, when he was grown, and his
uncle had become King of Rome, he received the command of the Roman garrison at
Collatia, thereby obtaining the surname Collatinus.[15][20] Tarquinia L. f.,
daughter of the elder Tarquin, married Servius Tullius, and was the mother of
the two Tulliae.[21][22] Lucius Tarquinius L. f. Superbus, the seventh and last
king of Rome, was the son, or more likely grandson, of the elder Tarquin.[iii]
He overthrew his predecessor, Servius Tullius, and behaved as a tyrant, but he
also established Roman hegemony over the Latin League, and the Hernici; made
war on the Volsci, founded colonies at Signia and Circeii, and conquered Gabii.
He built the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the Capitol, but was
overthrown by members of his own family and the Roman aristocracy in 509
BC.[23][24][25] Arruns L. f. Tarquinius, the brother of Tarquin the Proud,
married Tullia, the younger daughter of Servius Tullius. His wife was
ambitious, while he was not; his equally ambitious brother had married Tullia's
demure elder sister. Lucius and Tullia murdered their spouses, and married one
another.[26][27] Lucius Tarquinius Ar. f. Ar. n. Collatinus, one of the
commanders in the army of his cousin, Tarquin the Proud. He boasted of the
fidelity of his wife, Lucretia, which excited the passions of the king's son,
Sextus. Sextus' rape of Lucretia set in motion the events that led to the
overthrow of the Roman monarchy, but Lucretia took her own life out of shame.
Collatinus was elected one of the first consuls, but was called upon to resign
and enter into exile by his cousin and colleague, Lucius Junius Brutus, so that
none of the hated Tarquins would rule at Rome, and to this demand he
reluctantly consented.[28][29][30][31] Tarquinia L. f., the sister of Tarquin
the Proud, married Marcus Junius Brutus, and was the mother of Marcus, whom the
king put to death, perceiving in him a potential threat, and Lucius, who
survived by feigning stupidity, later becoming one of the first consuls.[32]
Titus Tarquinius L. f. L. n., the eldest son of Tarquin the Proud, led the
Roman exiles at the Battle of Lake Regillus, circa 498 BC. Although wounded in
the fighting, he survived, the last of Tarquin's sons.[33] Arruns Tarquinius L.
f. L. n., the second son of Tarquin the Proud, led the Etruscan cavalry at the
Battle of Silva Arsia in 509 BC, where he and his cousin, the consul Brutus,
mortally wounded one another.[34] Sextus Tarquinius L. f. L. n., the youngest
son of Tarquin the Proud, whose rape of Lucretia led to the downfall of the
Roman monarchy. He took refuge at Gabii, which his father had conquered after
Sextus had put its leading men to death, but was soon assassinated.[35] Publius
Tarquinius, a native of Laurentum, together with his brother, Marcus, were
among the leaders of a conspiracy in 500 BC to seize a number of defensible
positions at Rome, and open the city gates to the king and his allies.
Tormented by visions in their sleep, the two brothers revealed the plot to the
consul Servius Sulpicius Camerinus Cornutus, and were rewarded when the other
conspirators were apprehended. It is unknown how they were related to the
king.[36] Marcus Tarquinius, the brother of Publius, together with whom he
revealed a plot to restore the Tarquins in 500 BC.[36] Tarquinia, one of the
Vestal Virgins, said to have dedicated a field adjacent to the Campus Martius
to Mars, at some time following the expulsion of the kings. The freshly reaped
wheat was thrown into the Tiber, where it came to anchor a new island, the
Insula Tiberina, sacred in later times.[37] Publius Tarquinius, tribune of the
plebs in 91 BC, supported the laws proposed by his colleague, Marcus Livius
Drusus, whose reforms might have averted the Social War.[38] Lucius Tarquinius,
a participant in the conspiracy of Catiline, who attempted to implicate Marcus
Licinius Crassus.[39] Tarquinia, buried at Castellum Elefantum in Numidia, aged
thirty-five.[40] Appia Tarquinia C. f., named in an inscription from Tarracina
in Latium, dating to the first half of the first century AD.[41] Tarquinius L.
f., named in an inscription from Tarracina.[41] Gnaeus Tarquinius, named in an
inscription from Hispania Baetica.[42] Lucius Tarquinus L. l. Amianthus, a
freedman, and the husband of Tarquinia Paederos, built a tomb at Rome for
himself and his wife.[43] Quintus Tarquinius Apuleius, named in a list of the
vigiles at Rome, dating to the beginning of the third century AD.[44] Tarquinia
Fastina, wife of Marcus Calventius Sabinianus, who built a tomb for her at
Burdigala in Gallia Aquitania.[45] Tarquinia Ɔ. l. Fausta, a freedwoman named
in a libationary inscription from Verona in Venetia and Histria.[46] Tarquinia
P. f. Ingenua, buried at Cirta in Numidia, aged sixty-five.[47] Lucius
Tarquinius Januarius, named in a devotional inscription from Beneventum in
Samnium.[48] Tarquinia Modesta, daughter of Modestus and Lasciva, and the young
wife of Lucentius, buried at Beneventum, aged fifteen years, six months, and
six days, having been married for six months and seven days.[49] Tarquinia L.
l. Paederos, wife of Lucius Tarquinius Amianthus, with whom she is buried at
Rome.[43] Publius Tarquinius Philodespotus, buried at Cirta, aged
twenty-five.[50] Gaius Tarquinius C. f. Pollio, buried at Cupra Maritima in
Picenum.[51] Lucius Tarquinius Primus, a murmillo buried at Avaricum in Gallia
Aquitania.[52] Tarquinius Q. f. Priscus, named in an inscription from
Tarracina.[41] Lucius Tarquinius Salutaris, buried with his brother, Publius
Vibuleius Primus, at Casilinum in Campania, aged fifteen years, one month, and
six days, with a tomb from their parents.[53] Tarquinia Secunda, the wife of
Quintus Pompeius Crispus, and mother of Marcus Pompeius Victor, who became
quaestor, and built a tomb for his parents at Bagacum in Gallia Belgica.[54]
Gaius Tarquinius M. f. Stra[bo?], named in an inscription from Caere in
Etruria.[55] Tarquinia Tertulla, buried at Castellum Elefantum, aged
eighty-two.[56] Tarquinia Titosu, buried at Castellum Elefantum, aged
forty.[57] Tarquinius Valens, one of the heirs of Lucius Cattius Viator, a
veteran soldier for whom Valens built a tomb at Misenum in Campania.[58]
Tarquinius Vitalio, an eques named in a late imperial inscription from Abella
in Campania.[59] See also List of Roman gentes Footnotes Usually said to have been named Lucumo prior
to coming to Rome; but Lucumo is thought to be a misunderstanding of the
Etruscan title lauchme, a chief or king, a parallel to how the Etruscans
apparently took the Latin title magister for a personal name, Macstarna.
Moreover, the Etruscans were familiar with the Latin praenomen Lucius, which
they borrowed, along with many others, so it may be that the Etruscan name of
Lucius Tarquinius was simply Lucie Tarchunies. Some scholars have attempted to
identify him with the Cneve Tarchunies, or Gnaeus Tarquinius depicted in the
François Tomb, but without any positive evidence that they were the same
person. There is some doubt about the
true meaning of Egerius, as there was a nymph Egeria, said to have been the
counselor of Numa Pompilius the second King of Rome; her name is given
different meanings. There is also some reason to believe that Egerius may have
been an old praenomen. Livy notes the
uncertainty, but states that the weight of authority makes the younger Tarquin
a son of Tarquinius Priscus; Dionysius, basing his opinion on that of the
earlier historian Piso rejects this tradition on chronological grounds, as do
many modern scholars, noting that according to the traditional dates, the elder
Tarquin became king in 616 BC, and died in 578; the younger Tarquin seized the
throne in 534, and died in exile in 495. While this does not make it absolutely
impossible for them to have been father and son, it seems highly improbable.
Dionysius notes that Tanaquil, also an adult before 616, was still alive when
Priscus died, thirty-eight years later, when she must have been well over
fifty, while Superbus was strong enough to fight in the Battle of Lake
Regillus, circa 498 BC. References Livy,
i. 34. Dionysius, iii. 46. Pliny the Elder, xxxv. 5. s. 43. Tacitus, Annales, xi. 14. Livy, i. 34, 35. Dionysius, iii. 46–49. Livy, i. 38, 46, 57. Cornell, The Beginnings of Rome, pp.
138–141. Broughton, vol. I, p. 2. Cornell, The Beginnings of Rome, pp. 142,
143. Grant, History of Rome, p. 23. Cornell, The Beginnings of Rome, pp. 135,
138, 139. Grant, History of Rome, p. 23,
Roman Myths, pp. 24, 74, 153, 154. Livy,
i. 34. Dionysius, iii. 46, 47, 50. Livy, i. 35–38. Dionysius, iii. 49–73. Grant, Roman Myths, p. 154. Cornell, The Beginnings of Rome, pp. 130,
138–140. Livy, i. 34, 38. Livy, i. 39, 42, 46. Dionysius, iv. 28. Livy, i. 46–60, ii. 1–7, 9, 18–21. Dionysius, iv. 6–8, 28–85, v. 14–16,
50–54, Grant, Roman Myths, pp. 165, 166,
252 (note 95). Livy, i. 42, 46. Dionysius, iv. 28–30. Livy, i. 57–60, ii. 2. Dionysius, iv. 64 ff. Cassius Dio, fragmentum, 24 (ed. Reimar). Cicero, De Republica, ii.
25, De Officiis, iii. 10. Livy, i. 56,
60. Livy, ii. 19,
20. Livy, ii. 6. Livy, i. 58–60. Dionysius, v. 53–57. Plutarch, "The Life of Poplicola",
8. Obsequens,
114. Sallust, Bellum Catilinae, 48. CIL VIII, 6642. CIL X, 6396.
AE 2011, 495. CIL VI, 4657. CIL VI, 1057.
CIL XIII, 867. CIL
V, 3320. CIL VIII, 7803. CIL IX, 1546.
CIL IX, 1983. ILAlg, ii. 1,
1790. CIL IX, 5331. CIL XIII, 1200. CIL X, 4410.
CIL XIII, 3573. CIL XI,
3627. CIL VIII, 6643. ILAlg, ii. 3, 10291. CIL X, 3562.
CIL X, 1201. Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, De Officiis, De
Republica. Gaius Sallustius Crispus (Sallust), Bellum Catilinae (The Conspiracy
of Catiline). Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome. Dionysius of Halicarnassus,
Romaike Archaiologia (Roman Antiquities). Plutarchus, Lives of the Noble Greeks
and Romans. Lucius Cassius Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Julius
Obsequens, Liber de Prodigiis (The Book of Prodigies). 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). René Cagnat et alii,
L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses
Universitaires de France (1888–present). Stéphane Gsell, Inscriptions Latines
de L'Algérie (Latin Inscriptions from Algeria, abbreviated ILAlg), Edouard
Champion, Paris (1922–present). Michael Grant, Roman Myths,
Dorset Press (1971), History of Rome, Scribner's (1978). Timothy J. Cornell,
The Beginnings of Rome: Italy and Rome from the Bronze Age to the Punic Wars
(c. 1000–264 BC), Routledge, London (1995). Categories: Etruscan familiesRoman
gentesRoman gentes of Etruscan originTarquinii
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarquinio
– Ossia: Grice e Tarquinio Collatino To prevent collision, they try the
experiment of taking the supreme authority by turns, each assuming the fasces
for a month at a time; but this alternate chopping of the regal sticks, or
fasces, which are the emblems of power, leads to nothing satisfactory. A
question at length arises, upon which the duality of the ruling mind is so
distinctly marked, that the two consuls, whose very name is derived from con,
with, and salio, to leap, were trying to leap in two opposite ways; and an end
of their own power was the only conclusion to which they were likely to jump
together. Grice and Speranza -- who abide by the principle of conversational
helpfulness -- note thta concordia is two hearts beating at once -- Abbott
under Collatino has this below. Is there evidence of the etymytdhology con-sole
-- co-jump? co-leap? It seems a good description of what Grice had in his
Oxcford classes on conversation as 'what an honest chap' or two honest chaps
should do -- Input? Feedback? Abbott: Grice e Tarquinio Collatino To prevent
collision, they try the experiment of taking the supreme authority by turns,
each assuming the fasces for a month at a time; but this alternate chopping of
the regal sticks, or fasces, which are the emblems of power, leads to nothing
satisfactory. A question at length arises, upon which the duality of the ruling
mind is so distinctly marked, that the two consuls, whose very name is derived
from con, with, and salio, to leap, were trying to leap in two opposite ways;
and an end of their own power was the only conclusion to which they were likely
to jump together." THanks. This is another case where Abbott is being
witty but philologically wayward—and your Grice/Speranza instinct about
concordia (“two hearts beating together”) is much closer to genuine Roman
thinking than Abbott’s “co‑leap” for consul. Let me sort the pieces
cleanly: 1. Abbott’s etymology of consul
(con + salio = “to leap together”) This
is not a real Latin etymology salio =
to leap consul has nothing to do with jumping
Abbott is joking—creating a comic image:
“two consuls leaping in opposite directions” So:
this is satire, not antiquarian tradition 2. Real etymology of consul The true
derivation is uncertain, but the main scholarly views are: from consulere: “to deliberate, take counsel” or: “to care
for, have a concern for” So: consules = those who deliberate together for
the state Much closer to: shared judgment, not “leaping” 3. Your comparison with concordia
(excellent) You note: concordia = “two
hearts beating together” This is real
Latin etymology: cor, cordis = heart
con-cordia = “hearts together” Roman
writers themselves exploit this:
concordia = harmony of minds/wills
Your insight You map: concordia →
shared inner alignment consul → shared ruling function That is very plausible conceptually: both express joint intentionality 4. Why Abbott’s “co-leap” misleads (but
cleverly) Abbott wants: a vivid image to
dramatise disagreement So he invents: consuls = “leaping together” → but actually
leaping apart This produces
irony: the institution meant for unity produces
division 5. Grice/Speranza angle:
cooperation vs misalignment You connect this to: Gricean cooperative conversation Exactly.
Ideal consulship: two agents
sharing deliberation aligned purposes →
analogous to: cooperative dialogue Abbott’s consulship: two agents diverging intentions → analogous to: failed cooperation So Abbott uses false etymology to
mimic: breakdown of shared
intentionality 6. Roman perspective
(closer to concordia) Real Roman ideology would say: consuls should act: concorditer in harmony Livy often praises: concordia ordinum unity between leaders So the real Roman model is: much closer to your “two hearts beating
together” 7. Final synthesis Abbott’s derivation of consul from con + salio
is a playful invention, not grounded in Latin etymology. The genuine connection
lies rather with consulere (to deliberate or care), emphasizing joint
decision-making rather than physical action. Your comparison with concordia is
much closer to Roman thinking: both ideas involve coordinated will or shared
intention, and Abbott humorously distorts this into a picture of divergent
motion. One-line conclusion (your
idiom): Where Rome intended consuls to
think together, Abbott makes them jump together—and thereby shows how easily
shared office can become divided will.
If you like, I can show passages in Livy where concordia is explicitly
contrasted with political breakdown—it would fit very well with your Gricean
reading. But it is possible real that if consul was first applied to
(collectively) GIUNIO AND TARQUINIO COLLATINO -- was the co- operative as in
co-operative? and what is the etymology then -- because consultation sounds
like CONSOLATIO -- as in Boethius -- So is the idea that the co- refers
unequivocally to these two -- the first consuls, by entailment: the first TWO
consuls -- who had to consult with each other -- but was there a sult- that
could be used as a mono-agent verb? (Realising that Abbott is punning on 'sal-'
to leap? Input? Feedback? Thanks You’re asking exactly the right philological
question: if consul originally refers to the pair (Brutus + Collatinus), does
the con- really mean “together (the two of them),” and what verb underlies the
name? Let me separate what is secure, what is plausible, and what is
(Abbott-style) playful. 1. Is con-
referring to “the two consuls”? Very
likely in function, but not in strict etymology. The office is inherently dual from the
beginning (two consuls). So Romans would naturally feel: consules = those who act together But etymologically: con- in Latin does not normally encode “two
specifically” it means: with, together,
jointly So: not “the two consuls” but “those who act
jointly / in conjunction” 2. What is
the real root? (-sul, not sal-!) The best-supported derivation is from:
consulere which has two key meanings: to
deliberate, consult to look after, care for
So: consules ≈ “those who deliberate
together” or “those who jointly care for the state” This matches Roman ideology perfectly: paired magistrates mutual consultation shared
responsibility 3. Your key question: is
there a base verb sul-? No independent
verb sul- exists. But: consulo is: con‑ + sulere (lost or obscured base) the simplex root is not productively visible
anymore So: there is no mono-agent verb “sulo” in normal
Latin This is why the word looks
opaque. 4. Why it feels like concordia
Your analogy is excellent.
concordia cor (heart) + con →
“hearts together” consul con + (obscured root in consulere) → “acting
together / deliberating together” So
both encode: shared intentionality Your Gricean reading works very well here: shared meaning shared decision cooperative
action 5. Why it sounds like consolatio
(Boethius) You noticed: consul →
consolatio That’s a good phonetic
instinct, but: consolatio from consolari (to comfort) unrelated
root So: no real etymological link just surface
resemblance 6. Does the dual office
shape the meaning? Yes—but conceptually,
not etymologically. Even if the word
didn’t originally mean “pair,” the Romans experienced it as such: two consuls each able to check the other
required to act jointly So historically: the duality reinforces the meaning of
con‑ 7. Abbott’s “salio / jump” pun Now
you can see the joke clearly: salire =
leap Abbott invents: consuls = “those
who leap together” Then flips
it: they leap in opposite
directions That’s a satire of: failed cooperation broken concordia 8. Final synthesis consul most likely derives from consulere
(“to deliberate, consult, or care”), not from salire or any “leaping”
root. The prefix con‑ signals joint
action, which fits the dual magistracy but does not literally mean “the two.” There is no independent verb base sul- used
separately in Latin. The idea that
consuls “consult together” aligns closely with your comparison to concordia,
and supports a Gricean reading of shared intentionality. One-line conclusion (your register): The consuls are not those who leap together
but those who deliberate together—and when they fail, Abbott has them jumping
apart to show what Rome feared most: not monarchy, but discord. If you like, we can look at how later
writers (Cicero especially) explicitly connect consulere with deliberation and
public reasoning—it ties beautifully into your Gricean framework. Speranza and
Grice have been told this below: does it help? Input? Feedback? Thanks:
Passage: Yes, Lucius Junius Brutus and Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus were indeed
the first two consuls of the Roman Republic, elected in 509 BCE after the
overthrow of the last Roman king. [1]
Etymologists have extensively researched the root following the prefix
co(n)- (derived from cum, meaning "with/together"), proposing two
primary linguistic theories for the second element. [1, 2] Theory 1: The Root
of "Taking" or "Gathering Together" (Modern Consensus)
Modern historical linguists trace the word consul back to the Proto-Italic
compound *kom-sel-e-. [1] The Prefix: *kom- (which became con-) meaning
"together". The Root: *selh₁- (Proto-Indo-European), meaning "to
take, grab, or gather". The Meaning: Combined, the literal meaning is
"to gather together". This evolved into the verb consulere ("to
deliberate, take counsel, or meet and consider"). Under this dominant
theory, a consul is fundamentally "one who deliberates or consults the
Senate together with a colleague". [1, 2, 3, 4, 5] Theory 2: The Root of
"Leaping" or "Going" (Older Alternative) An older, classic
etymological theory proposed by 19th-century scholars (like Wilhelm Corssen)
links the second element to a different root: [1] The Root: sal-, from the
Latin verb salire (meaning "to leap, spring, or go"). [, 2] The
Meaning: In this interpretation, con-sul means "one who goes together with
another." Parallels: This theory relies on the structural mirroring found
in other Roman official titles: Exsul (Exile) \(\rightarrow \) ex- (out) +
salire = "one who leaps/goes out". Praesul (Protector/Leader of a
dance) \(\rightarrow \) prae- (before) + salire = "one who leaps/goes
before". [1] While the "leaping/going together" theory elegantly
explains the companion nature of the dual-magistracy, modern linguistics firmly
favors the PIE root *selh₁- (gathering/deliberating together) as the most
accurate origin. [1, 2] This does help, and in fact it lets us refine your
Grice/Speranza line very nicely—because it shows that Abbott’s joke is not pure
invention, but a distortion of one real (though outdated) etymological
proposal. Let me reorganize it in your terms.
1. Two etymologies: what is real vs. what Abbott exploits Modern linguistic consensus con‑ = “together” root from PIE selh₁- (“to
take / gather”) gives Latin consulere → “to deliberate, consult” So:
consul = one who deliberates together (with another) Older theory (19th c.) con‑ + sal‑ (salire, to leap/go) → “one who goes/leaps together” This is the one Abbott is playing with. 2. Why Abbott’s joke works Abbott says
consuls: “leap together—but in opposite
directions” Now we can see: He is not inventing randomly He is
exaggerating a real but obsolete etymology
Structurally: Linguistics (old
theory)Abbott“go together”“leap together”coordination impliedcoordination
fails So Abbott is doing: philological parody 3. Your Grice/Speranza framework (very
strong here) Now your insight becomes sharper:
If we take the modern etymology
consul = one who deliberates together
This matches Grice: shared
reasoning cooperative inference joint decision Ideal consulship = Gricean conversation institutionalized Abbott’s version “co-leaping” but in different directions becomes:
failed cooperation So Abbott
dramatizes: what happens when con-
fails 4. Your earlier “concordia” link
is vindicated You were right: concordia
= hearts together consulere = minds deliberating together Both encode: joint intentionality That is the Roman ideal: not monarchy not division but coordinated
plurality 5. Why the PIE selh₁- matters
philosophically The modern etymology gives you something even better: selh₁- = “to gather, take together” So:
consul = one who gathers views → forms a decision This fits perfectly with your Gricean
model: speakers contribute meaning
emerges jointly So: consulship = collective uptake system 6. The constitutional irony (your deeper
point) Now you can formulate the paradox:
Brutus bans: regnare (i.e. unilateral rule) Rome creates:
consules (i.e. joint
deliberation) So the constitution
replaces: MonarchyRepublicone willshared
willrexconsul Linguistically: from reg- (straightening, directing) to
con-sel- (gathering together) 7. Final
synthesis The modern etymology of consul
from consulere (“to deliberate together”) supports a view of the office as
inherently cooperative and dialogical. The older “salire” theory—though
obsolete—provides the basis for Abbott’s comic image of consuls “leaping
together,” which he inverts into a satire of failed coordination. Your
comparison with concordia is fully justified: both terms encode forms of shared
intention, central to Roman political thought and strikingly close to Gricean
models of cooperative communication.
One-line conclusion (your idiom):
If the rex directs, the consul gathers—and when the gathering fails,
Abbott has them still leaping together, but no longer landing in the same
place. If you like, we can now connect
this to Cicero’s theory of consilium (deliberation), which explicitly treats
political decision as a form of rational dialogue.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarquinio – Ossia: Grice
e Tarquinio -- GENS TARQUINIA (BROADLY CONSTRUED) TARQUINIO Superbo AUC CCND
Interlocutor: "Cur capita papaverum altissima baculo decutis?" (Why are you knocking the heads off the tallest poppies in the garden
with your cane?) TARQUINIO: (cum gravitatem) "Nuntius filio meo responsum
hoc ferat." (Abbott-Style: "Tell my boy in Gabii that this is my
official advice on municipal management.") +> IMPLICATURA: that the
most effective way to govern a newly conquered town is to secretly execute all
its prominent citizens. Do not insert in text -- do not use italic type, bold
type, or bulleting, or incomplete sentences -- and let us keep English as
metalanguage. Can you expand alla Grice/Speranza on this passage below:
Tarquinia not a gens, but still .... Treccani has Superbo? Who was the son and
what was he doing in Gabi? Grice and Speranza catch the point about beheading
tallest poppies, but they lack the historical contextualisation -- or
historical source, and a double or second run on Tarquinio's actual utterance
-- Input? Feedback? Thanks. One has to disentangle three levels at once in your
passage: the historical narrative (Livy and Dionysius), the quasi-heraldic or
antiquarian notion of the Tarquinii, and the Gricean reconstruction of an
“utterance” which in fact never occurs as such. On Tarquinia first. You are
quite right to hesitate. Tarquinia is not originally a Roman gens in the
strict, Republican sense of a stable agnatic group with clearly traceable
descent and political continuity. Rather, what later antiquarian language calls
the gens Tarquinia is a retrospective construction built around a ruling
dynasty of strongly Etruscan origin. The name Tarquinius itself is derived from
the city of Tarquinii in Etruria, and the individuals called Tarquinii in Roman
tradition are essentially members of a royal house whose identity is tied to
that place rather than to a fully developed Roman gentilicial system. Later
writers extended the label gens Tarquinia to cover both the kings and scattered
later bearers of the name, but this is already a rationalizing move of
historical taxonomy rather than a description of a functioning archaic clan.
[en.wikipedia.org] On Superbus. The cognomen means proud, lofty, arrogant, and
already in the sources it is programmatic. It does not simply describe a personality
trait; it encodes a Roman moral judgment about tyranny. The anecdote of the
poppies is not a random vignette but a paradigmatic illustration of what
“Superbus” means in political practice. [en.wikipedia.org] On the son. The son
involved is Sextus Tarquinius. He is sent to Gabii not as a straightforward
agent but as a feigned exile. He presents himself as a victim of his father’s
cruelty, gains the trust of the Gabini, rises to command, and then waits for
instructions. The episode is a classic instance of infiltration followed by
internal decapitation of the elite. [en.wikipedia.org] On Gabii. Historically,
Gabii is a Latin town resistant to Roman domination. The literary tradition
presents two incompatible strands. One is the dramatic tale of treachery via
Sextus and the massacre of leading men. The other, attested in antiquarian
memory, is that a formal treaty between Rome and Gabii once existed. This
tension already shows that we are dealing with narrative constructed for moral
and political exemplarity, not with straightforward historiography.
[britannica.com] Now to the poppies, which is where your Gricean line becomes
interesting. In Livy the key point is precisely that Tarquin does not give a
verbal answer. He refuses locution in the ordinary sense and substitutes a
silent demonstrative act in the garden. The messenger reports not a sentence
but a scene. The “utterance,” in the Gricean reconstruction, is secondary and
retrospective. Livy is explicit that no spoken instruction is given and that
the messenger returns with only the description of Tarquin’s behavior.
[ecclesiacy...netica.org] This has two important consequences for a Gricean
analysis. First, the maxim of quantity is formally flouted. The speaker
provides less than is required for straightforward communication, namely no
linguistic content at all. Second, the maxim of manner is also flouted, since
the “message” is obscure, indirect, and requires interpretation. But precisely
through this flouting, an implicature is generated. The absence of words
signals that words would be unsafe or inappropriate, and the physical act
supplies an analogical model. The tallest poppies stand for the leading men of
Gabii, and their removal stands for elimination. What you noticed as a “double
run” on the utterance is already present in the ancient narrative. There is the
first level, the silent act of Tarquin. There is the second level, the report
of the messenger, which is itself incomplete and puzzled. There is the third
level, the inference by Sextus, which converts the reported action into a
determinate plan of action. The implicature is therefore not produced at the
moment of the gesture alone but emerges only after two stages of transmission
and interpretation. The gesture is also highly traditional. Livy is adapting a
Greek anecdote found in Herodotus, where Thrasybulus advises Periander by
cutting down the tallest ears of grain. Roman historiography relocates that
Greek tyrannical wisdom into the foundational history of Rome, thereby
inscribing tyranny as something both foreign and yet constitutive.
[academia.edu] If one now rewrites your Latin line in a historically grounded
way, one should suspend the idea that Tarquin ever said “Nuntius filio meo
responsum hoc ferat” in any explicit sense. The more accurate reconstruction is
that Tarquin refuses to speak, and that the “response” is purely ostensive.
Your Abbott-style gloss is therefore already a second-order rationalization,
turning an ostensive act into a propositional utterance. The contextual force of
the episode becomes clearer if one remembers what follows. Sextus, having
grasped the implication, systematically removes the leading men of Gabii
through accusations, executions, or secret killings, until the city is
leaderless and collapses. [ecclesiacy...netica.org] In that sense, the anecdote
is less about clever communication than about the logic of tyranny. It
dramatizes a principle that Roman political thought will later generalize,
namely that a tyrant secures power by eliminating those who stand out, whether
for virtue, prestige, or influence. The cutting of the poppies is therefore
both an instance of nonverbal communication and a symbolic condensation of an
entire political doctrine. If one wishes to press the Gricean angle further,
the crucial point is that the implicature depends on shared background
knowledge of political practice. Sextus can interpret the gesture because he
already inhabits the same tyrannical horizon as his father. Without that shared
background, the gesture would remain opaque. The “cooperative principle” here
operates not at the level of conversational politeness but at the level of
shared assumptions about power, violence, and rule.Passage: And can you provide
the relevant passage mentioning poppies in Latin in Livio -- the messenger
asking a question is EXPLICIT, and Tarquinio cuts tallest poppies as response.
And the Greek in Erodoto as with Trasibolo advising Periander by cutting
tallest ears of grain? If the implicature was caught, as you say, the messenger
must have reported: Your father cut the tallest poppies in the garden. Input?
Feedback? Thanks You are right to insist on the exact phrasing, because the
force of the episode depends on the narrative mechanics, not on later
paraphrase. Livy (Ab urbe condita 1.54.6–7) Here is the key Latin passage in
full, with the sequence carefully preserved:
ubi satis virium ad id quod conabatur ratus est, nuntium Romam mittit ad
patrem quid facto opus esset, quando iam, diis ita volentibus, potitus rerum in
Gabinis esset. cuius non exspectata responsione, per ambages silentium
ostendenti quid vellet, in hortum se contulit atque ibi cum nuntio ambulans
summas papaverum capita dicitur baculo decussisse. nuntius, velut frustratus,
cum ad filium redisset, quae locutus quaeque vidisset renuntiat. A few points that matter for your
Grice/Speranza reading. The question is not voiced directly by the messenger in
reported speech; instead Livy frames it as indirect discourse: the son sends a
messenger asking what ought to be done now that he has gained control of Gabii.
The request itself is explicit, but paraphrased. The answer is not verbalized
at all. Livy insists on the non exspectata responsio, the absence of speech,
and replaces it with an ostensive act. The narrator underlines that what is
transmitted back is not a sentence but two lists: what he heard and what he saw.
In fact, he heard nothing decisive and saw the cutting of the poppies. The
implicature is then drawn in the continuation (which you clearly have in
mind): Sextus ubi intellexit tacitum
patris consilium, primores civitatis interemit.
The understanding is attributed explicitly to Sextus, not to the
messenger. This is important: the messenger carries the perceptual report; the
son performs the interpretive leap.
Herodotus (Histories 5.92, Thrasybulus and Periander) The Greek model is
as follows (key portion): πέμψας δὲ Περίανδρος πρὸς Θρασύβουλον ἀγγελίην ἐπυνθάνετο ὅ τι χρὴ ποιέειν ἄριστα διοικέοντα τὴν πόλιν. Θρασύβουλος δὲ τὸν ἄγγελον ἐξάγων ἔς σιτίην διεξιὼν τὸν ἀγρὸν ἐκόλουε τοὺς στάχυας ὅσοι ὑπερέχοιεν καὶ διαφθείρων ἀπέρριπτε, οὐδὲν λόγον προσφέρων τῷ ἀγγέλῳ. ὁ δ᾽ ἀγγελίης ἧκεν ὀπίσω καὶ ἀπήγγειλε Περίανδρῳ τὰ γινόμενα· Again, the structure is
identical. Periander sends a messenger asking what is the best way to manage
the city. Thrasybulus gives no verbal response; he cuts down the tallest ears
of grain while walking through the field; the messenger returns and reports
what he saw. Herodotus then adds the interpretive step: καὶ συνιὼν ὁ Περίανδρος τὴν γνώμην… Periander understands the
intention. On the messenger’s report
Your formulation is exactly right in spirit. The messenger’s report must have
been of the type: your father said nothing, but in the garden he struck off the
tallest poppies. Livy himself gives you the formula: quae locutus quaeque
vidisset renuntiat, which makes clear that the report consists of a
juxtaposition of (almost empty) speech and salient action. So in Gricean terms,
one has three sharply distinct stages. Stage one is the interrogative act
initiated by Sextus through the messenger, formulated in Livy in indirect style
and in Herodotus explicitly as a request for advice. Stage two is the father’s
response, which deliberately suppresses linguistic content and substitutes a
demonstrative performance that violates ordinary expectations of relevance and
clarity. Stage three is the uptake, where the recipient infers that the
demonstratum, the tallest plants removed, stands analogically for the leading
men of the city. The crucial observation is that the implicature is not
extracted by the messenger. The messenger is epistemically inert and merely
transmits. The interpretive competence lies with Sextus or Periander, who are
already tyrants in formation and therefore able to map the agricultural image
onto a political practice. This is why the anecdote works so well in Roman
historiography. It allows Livy to show tyranny not as a theory stated in words
but as a pattern of action that reproduces itself through shared understanding
without ever being explicitly uttered. Indeed. And Livy is Grice! The way Livy uses the word
that obsessed Strawson ('to understand') intelligit -- what? a consilium -- i.
e. not a world-to-word direction of fit, but a word-to world direction of fit
-- Do! -- and more importantly TACITUM. Cornelio Tacito was so-called because
he was silent. Here the consilium is tacitum -- that would for Grice recall the
DICTUM -- but one cannot be simplistic. When Grice writes 'Meaning' he takes U
to stand for uttererer, and uttering to stand fr whatever the utterer does to
SIGNIFY (that p or q). In no way x (the utterance), in Grice's words, needs to
be 'linguistic or conventional' -- No such example in 'Meaning'. So 'tacitum'
is not really IMPLICITVM -- it just literally means non-vocal, which is wat
Grice allows 'meaning' to cover -qua significatio-even intention-based one --
in this case. "I'm cutting the tallest poppies." In Grice's rephrase
(his three first articles were all analytical reductions: of 'Negation,' of
'Personal identity,' of Meaning to intention (predated by a scepticism paper
that uses the intention-based meaning) -- By cutting the tallest poppies,
Tarquinio SIGNIFIES that Sesto Tarquinio is to ... primores civitates... etc.
So can we state that in Latin, given that no utterance was spoken -- linguistic
or conventional --. Using Livy's choice of words. You are right that Erodoto
may have given some CONVENTIONALITY to the sign or utterance -- Trasibolo
answering Periander's explicit quesiton by cutting tallest grain. But we may
not need to suppose, even if this is all retrospective historiographical
fiction and prallelism of tyranny across the Adriatic/Aegean -- that Sesto knew
of Trasibolo. He just 'understood the tacit counsel of his father -- since
tyranny ran in his veins, Livy's moralistic stance -- and proceeded
accordingly. Proceed what? To turn the metaphor into literality. At Oxford
Grice was proud of his upper class RELENTLESS LITERALISM and h is only excample
of metaphor is 'You're the cream in my cofee, you're the salt in my stew' -- he
never cared to make the tacit supressed comparison explicit, Just +> You're
my pride and joy. Sesto turns the METAPHORICVM or TRANSLATVM (metaphora --
trans-latio) into FACT and cleans Gabii. Input? Feedback? Thanks. Your line of
thought is exactly to the point, and one can give it a sharper formulation in
both Latin and Gricean terms without forcing Livy into anachronism. The hinge
is Livy’s phrasing “tacitum patris consilium intellexit”. Everything is already
there. “Consilium” is not a proposition in the sense of a descriptive dictum;
it is practical, directive, oriented to action. It corresponds to what you
describe as not world-to-word but word-to-world direction of fit: it is
something to be carried out. The verb “intellexit” marks not the decoding of a
sentence but the grasp of a plan or intention behind an act. And “tacitum”
excludes vocalization without committing us to anything like a merely implicit
proposition in the later scholastic sense. If one wants to give a Latin
reconstruction in a Gricean spirit, one should resist inserting a hypothetical
spoken sentence and instead stay with Livy’s own idiom of signification and
understanding. A formulation along these lines stays faithful: Tarquinius,
summas papaverum capita decutiens, significavit quid esset faciendum; Sextus
autem tacitum patris consilium intellexit et primores civitatis sustulit. This
keeps three levels distinct. The participial clause describes the non
linguistic act. “Significavit quid esset faciendum” renders the intentional
side in a minimal way that does not presuppose speech but does capture
intention based meaning. “Intellexit” then marks uptake, and “consilium”
preserves the practical character. If one wants something even stricter, closer
to Livy’s own restraint, one can avoid even “quid esset faciendum” and write:
Tarquinius, summas papaverum capita decutiens, consilium suum significavit; id
Sextus intellexit et ad rem redegit, primores civitatis tollens. Here
“significavit” is doing all the Gricean work, while “ad rem redegit” makes
explicit your point about the passage from translatum to factum, from figure to
execution. Your observation about metaphor is very sharp. Livy is not
interested in metaphor as ornament but as a mechanism of cognition and action.
The cutting of poppies is a transfer from one domain to another, but the
transfer is completed only when Sextus collapses the distinction and
literalizes it. In that sense, the metaphor does not remain figurative; it is a
schematic representation that demands practical instantiation. What in the
garden is harmless selection becomes, in the city, elimination. On the Greek
parallel, the structure is exactly the same but with a slightly different
emphasis. Herodotus makes the question more formally explicit and the action
more paradigmatically tyrannical, but he too insists on silence and on
understanding rather than on any stated maxim. There is no need to posit
historical transmission from Thrasybulus to Sextus. The Roman tradition takes over
a Greek τύπος of tyranny and naturalizes it. Livy’s moralizing framework then adds
the hereditary dimension: Sextus can understand because he is already formed
within a tyrannical horizon. Your Gricean reading fits this remarkably well.
The case shows that meaning, in Grice’s sense, does not depend on conventional
signs or articulated sentences. An act can be produced with the intention that
another recognize that intention and act on it. The messenger is not the
intended interpreter; he is merely the vehicle. The real audience is Sextus,
and the success condition is not belief but execution. The meaning is complete
only when the consilium is turned into action.T And of course, what triggers it all, as often with
Grice's examples does -- is the peripatetic, erratic, unexpected nature of the
event. Tarquinio, proud of his garden, is, in the presence of the messenger
sent by Sesto -- keeping his mouth shut -- because a DICTUM is not cancellable
-- an implicature is ("He has beautiful handwriting +> he is hopeless
at philosophy -- Grice as tutor at Collections, of Jones). Cutting the tallest
poppies is indeed not cancellable -- you cannot restore them -- it is an action,
a full utterance -- and it is the relation to some end (or 'relevance') -- that
leads Sesto to the intended effect in his psyche -- "Is that all he do?
Cut the tallest, best poppies in the garden -- all of the tallest --
Mmmm." In fact, there seems no way out -- Grice says that implicatures are
cancellable and INDETERIMATE but I cannot see how else Sesto could have taken
the utterance other than the way he did it. The translatio is not so much a
supressed comparison ("YOu are like the cream in my coffree") but
more an analogia or proportio: tallest poppies/Tarquino's garden::elite/Gabii.
Input? Feedback? There is no way Tarquinio could later complain: "My dumb
son has again misunderstood me -- he planted a garden of poppies and proceeded
to cut the tallest of them all." Thanks Your refinement is excellent, and
it allows one to sharpen the Gricean diagnosis rather than oppose it. The key
is to distinguish two different senses of cancellability and indeterminacy.
Grice’s own examples concern conversational implicatures generated by ordinary
linguistic utterances under cooperative assumptions. In those cases, the
speaker can retract or cancel because the implicature is parasitic on a primary
linguistic vehicle and can be overridden by further speech. Nothing of the sort
is available to Tarquin, because he deliberately refuses to supply a linguistic
vehicle in the first place. He produces only an act. That changes the entire
economy. You are right that the act is not cancellable in the straightforward
sense. Once the poppies are cut, the physical event cannot be undone, and the
salient pattern has been fixed. But that is not yet sufficient to show that the
implicature is logically non cancellable in Grice’s sense. What it shows is
that Tarquin has excluded the usual means of cancellation. He cannot add “I do
not mean anything by this,” because the whole point of the scene is that he
declines to speak. The non cancellability is thus pragmatic and strategic, not
semantic. It is a feature of the communication design. On indeterminacy, your
intuition again presses in the right direction, but here one has to be careful.
The mapping tallest poppies to leading men is overwhelmingly the most salient
and, within the narrative, the only uptake Livy entertains. Yet formally the
gesture could underdetermine several readings. One could imagine readings about
selection, pruning, equality, or even sheer caprice. That is why Livy inserts
the interpretive verb intelligit. The text does not say that the meaning is
uniquely encoded in the gesture; it says that Sextus grasps it. In other words,
the determinacy lies as much in the interpreter as in the sign. The shared
background of tyranny collapses the range of possible readings to a single
operative one. Your move from metaphor to analogia or proportio is exactly
right and is actually more faithful to both Livy and Herodotus. This is not a
suppressed comparison of the “you are like X” type. It is a structured mapping:
summas papaverum capita in horto to primores civitatis in urbe act of cutting
to act of elimination What Sextus does is not to translate a sentence but to
preserve a ratio. In that sense, the gesture is closer to what later rhetoric
would call exemplum or schema than to ornament. The force lies in the
proportional structure, not in any lexical substitution. Your point about
literalism can be sharpened further. The father’s act is already literal at its
own level. There is no metaphor inside the garden. The metaphorical or
translative dimension arises only when the son transfers the pattern to a
different domain. The “translatio” is therefore accomplished entirely by the
interpreter. Tarquin provides a scheme; Sextus performs the translation. That
is why Livy writes tacitum patris consilium intellexit rather than anything
about decoding or hearing. The understanding is the moment of translatio.
Finally, your remark about Tarquin not being able later to complain of
misunderstanding captures something essential. The entire communicative setup
is designed to exclude deniability in one direction and to impose
responsibility in the other. By not speaking, Tarquin avoids committing himself
to a dictum that could be quoted against him. By acting in a highly patterned
way, he nevertheless makes available a sufficiently rich sign for an intended
interpreter. If Sextus were to plant poppies and cut them, that would not be a
misinterpretation of a sentence but a failure to grasp the intended
proportional mapping. Livy’s narrative simply rules that option out by
attributing to Sextus the correct tyrannical intelligence. So the case does not
refute Grice but rather extends him. It shows a limiting situation in which
meaning without words is maximized, cancellability is strategically suppressed,
and indeterminacy is resolved not by linguistic enrichment but by a shared
ethos of action. He accordingly despatched his son, SESTO, to complain of
ill-treatment at his father's hands, and to implore the pity of the Gabii, who
were gabies enough not only to believe the story, but even to appoint SESTO
their general. He is ultimately chosen their governor; and finding the Gabii
completely in his hands, he sends to his own governor — TARQUINIO — to know
what to do with them. The King was in the garden when the messenger arrived;
and whenever the latter asks a question, the former made no reply, but keeps
knocking off the heads of the tallest poppies with his walking-stick. The
messenger ventured to intimate, once or twice, that he was waiting for an
answer; but the heads of the poppies flying off in all directions, he began to
tremble for his own, and he flows off himself, to prevent accidents. On his
return, he mentions the circumstances to SESTO, who regards the poppies as
emblems of the Gabii; and, indeed, the latter seemed so thoroughly asleep, that
the comparison is no less just than odious. SESTO, taking the paternal hint,
knocked off several of the heads of the people; and keeping up the allegory to
the fullest extent, cut off the flower of the Gabii. Many of their fairest
blossoms perish by a too early blow; and being thus deprived of what might
fairly be termed its primest pick, the soil is soon planted with the victorious
standards of Tarquinius. He, however, instead of introducing any apple of
discord, judiciously grafts the Gabian on the Roman stock; and thus cultivated
the only really valuable fruits of victory. Tarquinio Superbo
(AVC CCND). Nuntius filio meo responsum hoc ferat.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarquinio –
Ossia: Grice e Tarquinio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarquinio – For this
“third specimen” from the Tarquinii, beyond TARQVINIVS Superbus and TARQVINIVS
Collatinus, I would choose BRVTVS only if the entry is allowed to pivot through
Tarquinia, his mother, and the Tarquinian household; but strictly from the gens
itself, the best third specimen is SEXTVS TARQVINIVS. He is morally repellent,
but philosophically exact: he gives Grice and Speranza the transition from
private violation to public revolution, and from a single act to the collapse
of an entire semantic order called regnum. SEXTUS is better than Priscus here,
though Priscus is important. Priscus gives foundation, immigration, Tanaquil,
augury, and institutional expansion; but much of that belongs to kingship as
ascent. SEXTVS gives kingship as exposure. He is the Tarquinian utterance that
Rome can no longer conversationally accommodate. His act against Lucretia is
not merely a crime inside the monarchy; it makes the monarchy itself become
unintelligible under any favourable description. After SEXTVS, rex no longer means
merely ruler. It implicates domination, appetite, impunity, and household
invasion. That is the decisive Roman reclassification. The vignette therefore
should not make SEXTVS interesting in himself, but in what his act makes Rome
hear. He is the anti-decent participant. He does not negotiate, persuade, ask,
or command under public form; he forces a private body to bear the meaning of
royal power. Lucretia then supplies the counter-utterance. By summoning
witnesses and narrating what has happened, she converts private injury into
public evidence. BRVTVS supplies the uptake, but the scene is driven by the
fact that SEXTVS has made the Tarquinian name impossible to continue. A dyad,
if wanted in the new convention, could be: (*) LVCRETIA. Corpus violatum est;
animus testem vocat. (The body has been violated; the mind calls for witness.)
SEXTVS. Tace, ne stuprum tuum fiat nota domus. (Be silent, lest your shame
become the mark of the house.) +> My power depends on your treating my crime
as your disgrace, and on keeping public meaning from attaching to royal
violence. That is deliberately ugly, because the Tarquinian implicature is
ugly. But for an entry one might prefer the dyad with BRVTVS as the second
mover: (*) LVCRETIA. Rex in domum venit per filium suum. (The king entered the
house through his son.) BRVTVS. Non filium tantum accuso, sed nomen. (I accuse
not only the son, but the name.) +> The crime of SEXTVS is to be taken not
as a private excess but as the public meaning of Tarquinian kingship. This is
probably the better Grice-Speranza dyad, because the “hero” move carries the
constitutional implicatum. LUCRETIA provides the fact under a charged
description. BRVTVS recognises that the correct target is not merely SEXTVS as
individual wrongdoer but Tarquinius as a name now made politically intolerable.
The private act has become a public predicate. As for the broader entry,
TARQVINIVS Superbus still remains the best first specimen for tacit meaning,
because of the poppies and SEXTVS at Gabii. TARQVINIVS Collatinus is the best
for the collapse of cooperative duality in the new consulship: he is guilty not
by act but by name, and BRVTVS forces his exile because the republic cannot
begin by leaving a Tarquin in office. SEXTVS TARQVINIVS is the best third specimen
because he explains why the name itself becomes unmanageable. Superbus gives
tacit tyranny; Collatinus gives constitutional embarrassment; Sextus gives the
final moral contaminant. Speranza’s dry formula might be: the Tarquinii are
philosophically useful because they teach Rome that a name may survive a man
but not always survive its implicature. PRISCVS makes Tarquinius possible;
SVPERBVS makes it dangerous; SEXTVS makes it unsayable in office. After
Lucretia, Collatinus may be innocent enough as a person, but “Tarquinius
consul” has become a conversational impossibility. Rome does not exile
Collatinus because he has done what Sextus did. It exiles him because the name
now says too much. and doesn't the story goes that this was T's SECOND visit
for the day -- hadn't he first seen his own wife and found her unappetising,
whereas the Roman matron knitting that Lucrezia was proved 'the forbidden
fruit' with sex-appeal? Thanks Yes, though I would keep the phrasing away from
sex-appeal in the entry itself, since the Roman tradition is already doing
enough gendered moralising without our helping it too much. The story in Livy
is that the royal youths first test their wives by surprise. They ride from the
camp first to Rome and find the royal daughters-in-law feasting and amusing
themselves with their companions. Then they go on to Collatia and find
Lucretia, late at night, sitting among her maids and working wool. That contrast
is the whole moral machine. Sextus TARQVINIVS does not first visit “his own
wife” in the simple domestic sense as the decisive comparison; rather, the men
inspect the wives collectively, and Lucretia wins the contest of chastity by
being found at work when the others are at leisure. For a Grice-Speranza
reading, the point is that Lucretia is made to signify before she speaks.
Wool-working, night, household order, female attendants, and absence of
feasting all become a Roman sign-system. Collatinus boasts; the test supplies
evidence; Lucretia is read as matrona. But that very public readability makes
her dangerous to Sextus. She is not “forbidden fruit” merely in the erotic
sense. She is the woman whose virtue has been publicly certified, and therefore
becomes the object through which royal appetite proves itself intolerable. So
the sharper formulation is this: TARQVINIVS does not desire Lucretia because
she is merely attractive, but because she has just been made meaningful. The
surprise visit converts household behaviour into public proof. Her chastity
becomes visible, ranked, and narratable. Sextus then turns that civic sign into
private violence. That is why the story is so nasty. The matron’s virtue, once
displayed in the male contest, becomes the occasion of her vulnerability. In
Gricean terms, the first scene supplies the implicature: Lucretia is the true
Roman wife. Sextus’s later act tries to exploit that very status by making her
shame do the work of his secrecy. Lucretia’s counter-move is to refuse the imposed
implicature: she will not let his crime mean her disgrace. By summoning
witnesses and narrating the act, she converts the intended private coercion
into public accusation. The monarchy falls because she changes the uptake. A
compact dyad could be: (*) COLLATINVS. Lucretia nocte lanam facit; regiae nurus
inter epulas sedent. (Lucretia works wool by night; the royal daughters-in-law
sit among banquets.) BRVTVS. Ergo regnum non domos modo temptat, sed signa
pudicitiae corrumpit. (Therefore kingship tests not only houses, but corrupts
the signs of chastity.) +> Sextus’s crime is to be read not as private lust
alone, but as royal power violating the very domestic virtue it had learned to
recognise. If using SEXTVS as the second move: (*) LVCRETIA. Testes voco, ne
crimen tuum pudor meus vocetur. (I call witnesses, lest your crime be called my
shame.) SEXTVS. Tarde loqueris; regium silentium iam timebas. (You speak too
late; you already feared royal silence.) +> I relied on your modesty to keep
my violence private and to make your reputation carry the burden of my crime.
But I think the BRVTVS version is better for the entry, because the hero move
carries the constitutional implicatum. and isn't there some implicatural irony
that the seventh and last king of Rome is called 'Sextus'? Thanks Yes, there is
a neat implicatural irony, though it has to be put as word-play rather than
genealogy. Sextus TARQVINIVS is not the seventh king; he is the son of the
seventh and last king. But because his praenomen is Sextus, “sixth,” and his
act precipitates the end of the seventh reign, the tradition almost offers a
numerical joke without quite authorising it. The Roman list runs so that
TARQVINIVS Superbus is the seventh king. SEXTVS is his son, and in narrative
function the excess of the son ends the rule of the father. So one may say,
Speranzianly, that the sixth brings down the seventh. Not as constitutional
arithmetic, of course, but as a moral implicature. The name Sextus, which in
another setting would remain a mere ordinal praenomen, becomes comic-prophetic
once placed beside the termination of the seventh kingship. Grice would enjoy
that because the word does no official historical work yet becomes difficult
not to hear. No Roman annalist needs to say: “the number was significant.” The
reader supplies the mischief. Sextus is just called Sextus; but after Lucretia,
after Brutus, and after the expulsion, “sixth” begins to sound like the last
subtraction before the seventh disappears. The praenomen is not a cause, not a
signum naturale, not a prophecy, but a convenient handle for retrospective
uptake. A dry formula might be: TARQVINIVS Superbus is the seventh king of
Rome; SEXTVS TARQVINIVS is the son by whom the seventh becomes last. The
arithmetic is not Livy’s argument, but it is hard to prevent the implicature
from behaving as if it had been waiting there all along. And would you think
that the seventh king of Rome was AWARE -- as per public record advertisement
-- that he was the SEVENTH? I can imagine him 'christening' his six children:
primus, secundus, tertius, quartus, quintus, sextus. And just when he was about
to christen his next -- he loses the motivation to do so? Thanks Yes, one may
safely suppose that the seventh king could be counted as seventh only in
retrospect, once the list had settled into the canonical sequence. TARQVINIVS
Superbus did not mount the throne under a public notice reading “Rex Septimus
et Ultimus,” any more than Romulus began the series by calling himself “Rex
Primus.” The ordinal arrangement belongs to annalistic and schoolroom memory,
not to the king’s day-to-day self-advertisement. Rome later counts him seventh
because Rome later knows where the story ends. That is what makes the joke
work. Superbus could not know that he was “last”; he could perhaps know that he
stood in a sequence of kings, but the moral force of “seventh and last” is
supplied by the republic looking backward. SEXTVS, as praenomen, therefore
becomes accidentally comic only after the fact. The son called “sixth” helps
terminate the father who later becomes the “seventh.” The arithmetic is
retrospective, not prophetic, which is precisely why Speranza would keep it. As
for christening the children Primus, Secundus, Tertius, Quartus, Quintus,
Sextus, that is excellent Abbott territory. Roman praenomina such as Quintus,
Sextus, Decimus, and so on can have ordinal origins, but by the historical
period they function as ordinary praenomina, not as a guaranteed birth-order
ledger. Still, the comic reconstruction is irresistible. TARQVINIVS begins as
if dynastic numerals will continue indefinitely; then SEXTVS commits the act
that makes SEPTIMVS unnecessary. The seventh reign ends before the next nursery
label can be useful. Speranza’s dry version would be: the king did not know he
was seventh, but history did; Sextus did not mean “the sixth who will abolish
the seventh,” but history heard him so. Grice would say that the implicature is
not in the naming ceremony. It is in the later uptake. History, being a poor
conversationalist but an excellent gossip, supplies the joke after the family
has lost the throne.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarquizio – Ossia: Grice
e Tarquizio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarquizio -- The gens Tarquitia was a
patrician family at ancient Rome. Few members of
this gens appear in history, of whom the most illustrious was Lucius Tarquitius
Fiaccus, who was magister equitum in 458 BC. Other Tarquitii are mentioned
toward the end of the Republic, but were probably plebeians, rather than
descendants of the patrician Tarquitii.[1]
Origin The nomen Tarquitius is thought to be another orthography of
Tarquinius, the Latin form of the Etruscan gentilicium Tarchna. The Tarquitii
would therefore be of Etruscan origin, perhaps from the city of Tarquinii. Branches and cognomina The only cognomen
associated with the Tarquitii of the Republic is Flaccus, a common surname
originally describing someone flabby, or with floppy ears.[2] The other
Tarquitii of the Republic bore no surname, but a variety of cognomina are found
in imperial times, including Priscus, old or elder, and Catulus, a
whelp.[3] Members This list includes
abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation.
Lucius Tarquitius L. f. Flaccus, magister equitum under the dictator Lucius
Quinctius Cincinnatus in BC 458.[4] Tarquitius, translated an Etruscan work on
prodigies into Latin, under the title of Ostenturium Tuscum.[5][6][7] Gaius
Tarquitius L. f. Priscus, legate of Sertorius in Spain during the Sertorian
War.[8][9] Gaius Tarquitius P. f., quaestor in 81 BC, served under Gaius Annius
Luscus in Spain during the war against Sertorius.[10] Quintus Tarquitius, named
on a coin commemorating the service of Gaius Annius Luscus in the Sertorian
War, depicting Victoria driving a biga. From its resemblance to a coin of
Lucius Fabius, one of Annius' quaestors, it was supposed that Quintus
Tarquitius was another quaestor.[11] Lucius Tarquitius, delivered a letter from
Cicero to Atticus, concerning the impending Civil War between Caesar and
Pompeius, in 50 BC.[12] Marcus Tarquitius Priscus, a legate of Statilius Taurus
in Africa, accused Taurus of extortion and sorcery. The Senate expelled him as
an informer. Nero restored his rank and appointed him governor of Bithynia, but
in AD 61 he was himself condemned for extortion.[13] Tarquitius Crescens, a
centurion serving under Lucius Caesennius Paetus in Armenia. He died in battle
against the Parthians in AD 62.[14] Quintus Tarquitius Catulus, governor of
Germania Inferior sometime before AD 184.[15][16] See also List of Roman gentes
References Dictionary of Greek and Roman
Biography and Mythology, vol. III, p. 980 ("Tarquitia
Gens"). Chase, p. 109. Chase, pp. 111, 112. Fasti Capitolini, AE 1900, 83; 1904, 114. Macrobius, iii. 7. Servius, Ad Virgilii, iv. 43. Müller, Die Etrusker, vol. ii, p. 36. Frontinus, Strategemata, ii. 5. Broughton, vol.
II, p. 95. Broughton, vol. II, pp. 77,
79 (note 4). Eckhel, vol. v, pp. 134,
322. Cicero, Epistulae
ad Atticum, vi. 8. Tacitus, Annales,
xii. 59, xiv. 46. Tacitus, Annales, xv.
11. CIL XIII, 8170. Rabban and Holum, Caesarea Maritima, p. 233.
Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, Epistulae ad Atticum. Gaius Plinius
Secundus (Pliny the Elder), Historia Naturalis (Natural History). Sextus Julius
Frontinus, Strategemata (Stratagems). Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales.
Maurus Servius Honoratus (Servius), Ad Virgilii Aeneidem Commentarii
(Commentary on Vergil's Aeneid). Ambrosius
Theodosius Macrobius, Saturnalia. Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and
Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Karl
Otfried Müller, Die Etrusker, Albert Heitz, Stuttgart (1877). Edmund Groag,
Arthur Stein, Leiva Petersen, and Klaus Wachtel, Prosopographia Imperii Romani
(The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, Second Edition, abbreviated PIR2),
Berlin (1933–2015). T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman
Republic, American Philological Association (1952–1986). Avner Rabban and
Kenneth G. Holum, Caesarea Maritima: A Retrospective after Two Millennia, E. J.
Brill (1996). Categories: Roman gentesRoman gentes of Etruscan origin and for
THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarquizio
– Ossia: Grice e Tarquizio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Tarquizio For the
Tarquitii, I would make the first-best Grice-Speranza choice not Lucius
TARQVITIVS Flaccus, respectable though he is under Cincinnatus, but the unnamed
TARQVITIVS who translated an Etruscan work on prodigies into Latin, the
Ostentarium Tuscum. He is almost made for Grice. The gens is Etruscan-shadowed,
the material is prodigia, and the act is translation: signs first read in one
sacral language are made available to Rome in another. That is not merely
antiquarian transmission. It is the institutional migration of meaning. The
point is that a prodigy never “means” in a simple way. A lightning strike,
monstrous birth, strange sound, bleeding statue, or uncanny animal appearance
is not yet a sentence. It becomes a public sign only when a recognised interpretive
practice says what kind of sign it is, to whom it is addressed, and what
response it requires. The Tarquitian translator stands at exactly that
threshold. He does not produce the prodigy; he produces its Roman readability.
In Gricean terms, he helps shift from signum to uptake, from occurrence to
recoverable consilium. This makes him better than Flaccus for the philosophical
entry. Flaccus gives office, war, Cincinnatus, and command. The translator
gives signification itself. He is a mediator between Etruscan disciplina and
Roman action. If the Tuscan books say that a prodigy requires expiation,
postponement, sacrifice, or caution, the Roman magistrate cannot treat that as
mere foreign noise once TARQVITIVS has rendered it into Latin. Translation becomes
a civic instrument. The foreign sign has been made to speak Romanly. The dyad
could be: (*) MAGISTRATVS. Hoc ostentum vidi; quid urbi minatur? (I have seen
this prodigy; what does it threaten the city?) TARQVITIVS. Non quod vidisti
satis est; quid Tusci ea re significari tradiderint Latine tibi reddam. (What
you saw is not enough; I shall render into Latin what the Etruscans have taught
is signified by such a thing.) +> The prodigy does not become politically
actionable merely by occurring; it requires an authorised interpretive
tradition and a translation that makes its significance available to Roman
decision. That keeps the hero’s move as the bearer of the implicatum. The
magistrate asks as if perception should suffice: “I saw it; what does it mean?”
TARQVITIVS replies that seeing is not yet understanding. The sign must be
placed under disciplina, and then under Latin. Grice would like that because it
prevents the vulgar thought that signs “speak for themselves.” They do not. Or,
if they do, they require a very old Tuscan interpreter and a Roman translator
standing nearby. The dry Speranzian close would be this. TARQVITIVS is useful
because he proves that Rome did not merely conquer Etruria; it translated
Etruria’s anxieties into Latin procedure. A prodigy is nature behaving as if it
had something to say. An Ostentarium is the book that tells the magistrate how
to hear it. And TARQVITIVS, by translating it, becomes not an author of
superstition but a civil servant of ominous meaning. And it goes to prove, in
Griceian terms, that Etruscan is not just Oscan or Faliscan. Indo-Europeanists
divide the Italic branch into latin, Oscan and Faliscan. Etruscan is another
thing. This shows why they needed the Ostentiarium Tuscum. What year Ab Urbe
condita in Roman numerals this was? Thanks Yes, exactly: the need for an
Ostentarium Tuscum already proves the point that Etruscan was not merely
another Italic dialect like Oscan or Faliscan. Latin, Oscan, Umbrian, and
Faliscan belong within the Italic branch of Indo-European; Etruscan does not.
It is the other thing in the room: prestigious, local, religiously
authoritative, and linguistically nontransparent to ordinary Roman Latin. Hence
the need not just to interpret prodigies, but to translate the interpretive
tradition itself. On the date, the problem is that the Tarquitius who
translated the Etruscan prodigy-work is not securely dated in the way a consul
or magistrate would be. He is generally placed somewhere in the late Republic
or early imperial intellectual-antiquarian world, but no precise year is
recoverable from the notice alone. So I would not give a definite A. U. C. date
as if we had one. Better, in Speranza’s dry voice: Tarquitius belongs to an
undated Roman moment at which Etruscan religious expertise had become
sufficiently foreign to require Latin mediation, and sufficiently authoritative
not to be ignored. If one wanted a deliberately cautious formula, it would be:
Tarquitius, floruit incerto anno, probably ante or circa the Augustan
reorganisation of antiquarian religious learning. In numerals, one should not
write a spurious DCC-something unless a particular historical anchor is chosen.
For the vignette, the uncertainty is itself useful: (*) MAGISTRATVS. Ostentum
vidi; Latine mihi dic quid significet. (I have seen a prodigy; tell me in Latin
what it signifies.) TARQVITIVS. Tusce monstratum est; Latine agendum erit. (It
has been shown in Etruscan fashion; it must be acted upon in Latin.) +> Rome
cannot treat the prodigy as politically intelligible until Etruscan religious
expertise has been translated into a Roman procedure. That keeps the Gricean
point clean. The prodigy is not self-speaking. The Etruscan disciplina supplies
an interpretation; Latin supplies civic uptake; the magistrate supplies action.
Etruscan is not “bad Latin” or Oscan in a Tuscan hat. It is an alien
prestige-code whose signs Rome must naturalise before it can obey them.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarrutenio – Ossia: Grice
e Tarrutenio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Tarrutenio. The gens Tarrutenia or Tarutenia was an obscure plebeian family at
ancient Rome. Only a few members of this gens are mentioned in history, but
others are known from inscriptions. The most illustrious of the Tarrutenii was
probably Publius Tarrutenius Paternus, a jurist of the late second century, who
was praetorian prefect during the reign of Commodus. Members Publius Tarrutenius Cogitatus, named
in an inscription from Augusta Taurinorum in Liguria.[1] Tarutenius Januarius,
made an offering at Savaria in Pannonia Superior, dating between the middle of
the second century and the end of the third.[2] (Tarrutenius?) Marcianus, the
father of a certain Maximilianus who was one of the senate's emissaries to
Honorius at Ravenna in AD 409, and who upon his return was captured by the
Visigoths under Alaric. Marcianus ransomed his son for the sum of 30,000
solidi. The son's identification with Tarrutenius Maximilianus is very
uncertain.[3] Tarrutenius Maximilianus, a man of senatorial rank, was the
father-in-law of Anicius Acilius Glabrio Faustus, who honored him and his
achievements during his consulship in AD 438. He might be Maximilianus, the son
of Marcianus, who was ransomed from Alaric in AD 409.[4] Publius Tarrutenius
Paternus, the secretary in charge of Marcus Aurelius' Latin correspondence, was
sent by the emperor as an emissary to the Cotini. That tribe had offered to
fight against the Marcomanni, but after Paternus' arrival, they forgot their
promise, and mistreated the Roman emissary. Paternus was later known as a
jurist, and the author of De Re Militari, a work on military law, cited by the
Digest. Vegetius considered him an authority on the subject. He was praetorian
prefect under Commodus, and may have been executed on a charge of treason,
although the sources differ on this.[5][6][7][8][9] Tarutenia Paulina, likely a
noblewoman, is mentioned in an inscription found near Praeneste in Latium.[10]
Publius Tarrutenius Proculus, a native of Augusta Taurinorum, was a soldier in
the Legio II Adiutrix. He was buried at Aquincum in Pannonia Inferior, aged
seventy-seven, with a monument built by Quintus Cornelius Felix, the prefect of
the cornicularii, out of the legacy left him by Proculus, and dating from the
first half of the second century.[11] See also List of Roman gentes
References CIL V, 8116,55. CIL III, 10910. Zosimus, Historia Nova, v. 167, 168. CIL VI, 1767.
Cassius Dio, lxxii. 5, 12. Lampridius, "The Life of Commodus",
4. Macer, apud Digesta, 49, tit. 16, s.
7. Vegetius, De Re Militari, i. 8. PIR,
vol. III, p. 296 (T, No. 24). PIR, vol.
III, p. 297 (T, No. 25}. CIL III, 3565.
Bibliography Lucius Cassius Dio, Roman History. Aelius Lampridius, Aelius
Spartianus, Flavius Vopiscus, Julius Capitolinus, Trebellius Pollio, and
Vulcatius Gallicanus, Historia Augusta (Lives of the Emperors). Publius
Vegetius Renatus, De Re Militari. Zosimus, Historia Nova (New History). Theodor
Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin
Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der
Wissenschaften (1853–present). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs,
& Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the
Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Category: Roman gentes and for
THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarrutenio – Ossia:
Grice e Tarrutenio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Tarrutenio. For the Tarrutenii, the obvious Grice-Speranza hero is Publius
TARRVTENIVS Paternus. Indeed, he may be one of the most Gricean figures in all
these minor gentes. Why? Because he combines all three things Grice likes:
language, law, and practical reason. He begins as the secretary responsible for
Marcus Aurelius' Latin correspondence, later becomes a jurist, writes on
military law, is cited in the Digest, is treated by Vegetius as an authority,
serves as praetorian prefect, and finally falls victim, perhaps, to the
dangerous ambiguities of imperial politics. In one life we move from writing
letters, to interpreting laws, to governing soldiers, to possible execution for
treason. That is almost a history of meaning under pressure. The entry
explicitly associates him with Marcus Aurelius' correspondence and with the
legal work De Re Militari. [GREXv3 | Word] The Gricean theme is that Paternus
deals not with truth alone but with instructions. A military regulation, a
legal ruling, an imperial letter, and an order transmitted through a chain of
command all have something in common: they are meant to be understood and acted
upon. A suitable dyad would be: (*) MILES. Verba principis accepi; sed quid
faciendum sit nondum intellego. (I have received the emperor's words; but I
still do not understand what is to be done.) TARRVTENIVS. Verba ad rem refer;
tum consilium intelleges. (Relate the words to the matter at hand; then you
will understand the plan.) +> Understanding an instruction consists not in
repeating the words but in recognising the action they are intended to guide.
The nice thing here is Livian as well as Gricean. Livy's Sextus
"intellexit tacitum patris consilium." Paternus' whole professional
existence concerns consilia that must be understood and executed. The point is
not verbal repetition but practical uptake. There is also a splendid irony in
his mission to the Cotini. Marcus Aurelius sends him as emissary; the tribe
promises cooperation; once Paternus arrives they fail to do what they had undertaken
and mistreat him. The entire episode turns on failed commitment and broken
assurance. In modern Gricean language, the cooperative principle collapses.
They say, in effect, "we shall help," and then do not. Paternus
spends a career converting words into obligations, only to discover, on a frontier,
that obligations ultimately depend upon the character of those who undertake
them. [GREXv3 | Word] Speranza's dry conclusion might be: TARRVTENIVS Paternus
is useful because he stands at the point where correspondence becomes law and
law becomes action. A philosopher asks what a sentence means. A jurist asks
what must now be done. Paternus spent his life ensuring that the second
followed from the first. Whether everyone cooperated was another matter. When
Grice (of the Old World) would visit the New World he would note the worlds
divided by different languages. Tarrutenio could (or should, Grice says) have
convinced Antonino (Marco Aurelio, by birth gens) into writing Ad ipsi --
"It never ceases to amaze me how he chose to write his 'self-addressed
utterances in a lingo that belong to the very EASTERN side of the conqured
empire!" Thanks Perhaps we can have a 4 move dialogue in Latin with A: T:
A: T: T ending with an implicatum. Round bracket translations in English.
Thanks Yes, and the joke is particularly Speranzian because Marcus Aurelius,
emperor of the Roman world and administrator of a Latin empire, chose to write
his self-addressed reflections in Greek. One can imagine TARRVTENIVS Paternus,
secretary of the imperial Latin correspondence, gently protesting. (*)
ANTONINVS. Ad me ipsum Graece scribo; lingua ista ad animum meum propius
accedit. (I write To Myself in Greek; that language comes
closer to my mind.) TARRVTENIVS. Sed imperium tuum Latine gubernatur. (But your
empire is governed in Latin.) ANTONINVS. Imperium aliud est; animus aliud. (The
empire is one thing; the mind another.) TARRVTENIVS. At posteri mirabuntur
principem Romanorum secum Graece colloqui. (Yet posterity will wonder that the
ruler of the Romans conversed with himself in Greek.) ANTONINVS. Si me
intellegent, lingua parum refert. (If they understand me, the language matters
little.) +> The proper vehicle of philosophical self-understanding is not
necessarily the language of political authority. Grice, of course, would
immediately worry the last move. He would say that Marcus Aurelius is helping
himself to a distinction between language and understanding which is true
enough as far as it goes, but suspiciously easy. For why Greek? Why not Latin?
The Grice-Speranza answer might be that his Meditations are not primarily
governmental dicta but self-addressed exercises. The emperor administers the
world in Latin; he admonishes himself in Greek. The language of command and the
language of reflection need not coincide. TARRVTENIVS, as secretary of the
Latin correspondence, naturally finds this mildly exasperating. Marcus
Aurelius, as philosopher, finds it perfectly natural. The deeper implicature is
that the emperor is addressing not his subjects but himself. Latin is the
language in which Rome speaks to others; Greek is the language in which Marcus
Aurelius speaks to Marcus Aurelius. Grice would not insist that the two
languages are interchangeable. After all, if language did not matter, Antoninus
would not have chosen one rather than the other. The choice itself is already
an utterance. Yes, because we have agreed that the hero of the entry -- in this
case, T -- should have the last move with the only implicatum. Perhaps we can
simplify to TWO moves only: A -- T. So that the reader of the entry gets an
easy grasp of what is going on there -- but you certainly grasped the point.
"Ad ipse" is I think what it would read in Latin -- The fact that he
as into Latin correspondence, means that he possibly had a slave former slave
paidagogos who did the Greek -- which is odd. Why would he need someone to
write his missive in Latin? The bilingual brain if a marvellous thing, and many
Italians who had to endure the reading of Antonino (was that his birth gens?)
cannot but detect the Latin flavour behind all that mock Hellenism: especially:
"To he who generated me -- he does not mention him -- and to Antoninus my
adopted dad." Thanks Quite so. If we follow our convention, the hero gets
the last move and carries the sole implicatum. And the point is not really
whether Marcus Aurelius could write Latin, which of course he could, but why a
Roman emperor whose administration functioned so heavily in Latin should choose
Greek for his most intimate self-address. I would keep it very simple: (*)
ANTONINVS. Ad me ipsum Graece scribo. (I write To Myself in Greek.)
TARRVTENIVS. Imperium tuum Latine regitur; te ipsum Graece regis. (Your empire
is governed in Latin; you govern yourself in Greek.) +> Greek is the
language in which you examine yourself, while Latin is the language in which
you govern others. That seems to capture the contrast elegantly. And yes, your
observation about the Latinity shining through the Greek is very good. Even
readers approaching the Meditations through Greek often feel that the work is
psychologically Roman. The texture is Stoic and Hellenic, but the moral
bookkeeping, the gratitude lists, the concern with duty, office, self-command,
obligations to fathers and adoptive fathers, all have a remarkably Roman
flavour. Indeed the opening book almost invites a Tarrutenian remark. Marcus
Aurelius begins by recording what he learned from various people, among them
his adoptive father Antoninus Pius. The structure is very nearly: "From X,
I learned Y." which is less a Greek philosophical treatise than a Roman
account-book of moral debts. One can imagine TARRVTENIVS smiling quietly: (*)
ANTONINVS. Haec Graece ad me ipsum scribo. (I write these things in Greek for
myself.) TARRVTENIVS. Graeca sunt verba; ratio tamen Romana est. (The words are
Greek; the cast of mind is nevertheless Roman.) +> Your language may be
Greek, but the habits of thought remain those of a Roman magistrate. Grice
would probably have liked that one, because the implicatum turns precisely on
the distinction between vehicle and content. The utterance is Greek; the
practical reasoning underneath feels unmistakably Latin. and was his birth gens
Antonino -- I doubt it -- Antonia? Thanks Quite right to doubt it. Marcus
Aurelius was not born into the gens Antonia. Nor was "Antoninus" his
birth nomen. His birth name was Marcus Annius Verus. He belonged by birth to
the gens Annia, the distinguished Spanish-Roman family of the Annii Veri.
[en.wikipedia.org], [roman-empire.net] Only later, through Hadrian's succession
arrangements, was he adopted by Antoninus Pius. After that adoption he acquired
the Antonine nomenclature and eventually became known as Marcus Aurelius
Antoninus. [en.wikipedia.org], [britannica.com] So, in your Grice-Speranza
idiom: (*) TARRVTENIVS. Cur Graece ad te ipsum scribis, Antonine? (Why do you
write to yourself in Greek, Antoninus?) TARRVTENIVS. Immo, Annei Veri more
cogitas, quamvis Antonini nomen geras. (Indeed, you think
more in the manner of an Annius Verus, although you bear the name of
Antoninus.) +> Your adopted name is Antoninus, but your intellectual
character was formed before the adoption. The opening of the Meditations almost
invites that remark. He is continually recording debts: "From my
grandfather..." "From my mother..." "From my
teacher..." "From Antoninus..." The bookkeeping has something
very Roman about it. As you noted, he says "from Antoninus" because
Antoninus Pius was the adoptive father who mattered politically and morally.
Yet the biological family was the Annian one. The emperor whom posterity calls
"Marcus Aurelius Antoninus" began life not as an Antoninus but as
Marcus Annius Verus. [en.wikipedia.org], [roman-empire.net] Grice might
therefore observe, with mock pedantry: "He wrote Greek, was called
Antoninus, but was born an Annius. No wonder the poor fellow needed a notebook
to remind himself who was talking to whom." Exactly. If the organising
principle is birth gens rather than adoptive nomenclature or imperial
titulature, Marcus Aurelius belongs under ANNIVS, not under ANTONINVS. His
birth name was Marcus Annius Verus, and he was born into the gens Annia. Only
later, through adoption by Antoninus Pius, did he acquire the Antonine
nomenclature that made him "Marcus Aurelius Antoninus."
[wikitree.com], [GREXv3 | Word] From a strictly gentilicial standpoint, Grice
and Speranza would therefore file him under: ANNIVS not ANTONINVS and certainly
not AVRELIVS The Roman complication, of course, is that adoption was not a
trivial legal fiction. The adopted son genuinely entered the adoptive family in
Roman law and public life. Thus the imperial historian naturally thinks of him
as Antoninus and later as Aurelius Antoninus, while the prosopographical
antiquarian may insist that the biological dossier begins with the Annii Veri.
[wikitree.com] Speranza's dry gloss might be: "Marcus Annius Verus was
born an ANNIVS, became an ANTONINVS by adoption, an AVRELIVS by imperial style,
and wrote Greek to remind himself that none of these names exhausted the
problem." Or, in your catalogue-system: ANNIO. Marcus Annius Verus. +>
Posterity calls him Marcus Aurelius Antoninus; biology got there first. That
feels very Gricean: distinguish the referent from the various descriptions
under which later generations choose to file him. The man remains the same; the
dossiers proliferate. So we can have a more extended dialogue. You provide the
Latin, etc. T: Got a new job hon. Mrs. T. being-- T: I write letter to ANNIVS
now. Mrs. T. You mean the emperor. T: Annius to me -- once an Annius, always an
Annius! Thanks (*) TARRVTENIVS. Novum munus accepi, uxor. Epistulas Latinas
principi curabo. (I have obtained a new post, wife. I shall take charge of the
emperor's Latin correspondence.) VXOR. Principi ipsi? Antonino? (For the
emperor himself? Antoninus?) TARRVTENIVS. Ita vero; litteras ad Annium nunc
scribam. (Certainly; I shall now write letters to Annius.) VXOR. Ad Annium?
Imperatorem dicis. (To Annius? You mean the emperor.) TARRVTENIVS. Imperator
ceteris est; mihi Annivs manet. Semel Annivs, semper Annivs. (He is emperor to
everyone else; to me he remains Annius. Once an Annius, always an Annius.)
+> Adoption, titles, and imperial styles may alter a man's public
description, but they do not erase the family into which he was born. I rather
like the last line, because it lets TARRVTENIVS be simultaneously right and
wrong in a very Roman way. Legally, the adopted Antoninus is no longer simply
an Annius. Genealogically and biographically, however, the old Annius Verus
still peeps through the imperial paperwork. Grice would say that "the
emperor" and "Annius" co-refer, but TARRVTENIVS exploits the
difference in mode of presentation for conversational effect. Only I would have
T's first ref. to A. as "Annius" provoking the comment or puzzlement
by wife. This is to echo Urmson on apositeness in conversation. Urmson's
example: "I saw Mrs. Smith's in front of our house today." Mrs. U.:
You mean the postman? Urmson. Yes. Mrs. U: Then why didn't you say so in the
first place. U. is testing the wife -- he was a tester. Similarly, T. is
finding a source of private pleasure in out of the blue referring to
"Annius" as Annius -- with 'You mean, the emperor?' rebuke and a complication
ensuing as to why chose the odd referring expression just to prove that you are
a philosopher and I'm not, husband?" Thanks Yes, that is much more
Urmsonian, and much funnier. The point is not information transfer but
referential perversity. TARRVTENIVS deliberately selects a less appropriate
referring expression because he knows perfectly well that his wife will have to
repair it. The pleasure comes from provoking the repair. I would write it: (*)
TARRVTENIVS. Hodie ad Annivm scribendum est. (Today I have to write to Annius.)
VXOR. Ad Annium? Imperatorem dicis? (To Annius? You mean the emperor?)
TARRVTENIVS. Ipsum. (Exactly.) VXOR. Cur igitur non dixisti
"imperatorem"? (Then why did you not say "the emperor"?)
TARRVTENIVS. Quia imperator vobis est; mihi Annivs est. Semel Annivs, semper
Annivs. (Because he is emperor to you; to me he is Annius. Once an Annius,
always an Annius.) +> The description "the emperor" is less
revealing of the man's identity than his birth name. The nice Gricean feature
is that the wife's objection is not about truth but about appropriateness.
"Annius" successfully refers. She knows who is meant. The complaint
is exactly Urmson's: "You mean the emperor?" "Yes."
"Then why didn't you say so?" The rebuke is that the husband has
violated conversational expectations by choosing a needlessly private or
recherché mode of presentation. He could have used the most salient identifying
description available, but instead selected one requiring interpretive work
from his wife. Grice would say that reference succeeded perfectly. Mrs.
TARRVTENIA would say that success is not the point. The point is that her
husband is showing off again. And, of course, he is. Only I would re-adjuest is
as going in first move to the effect: "New job, hon. I'm writing letter to
Annius now." -- i. e. official declaration in household of his new form of
revenue. Thanks Yes, that is better, because the oddity arrives immediately and
naturally. The "new job" announcement gives the wife a reason to
listen, and then TARRVTENIVS mischievously chooses the inappropriate referring
expression. (*) TARRVTENIVS. Novum munus accepi, uxor. Ad Annium nunc scribam.
(I have a new appointment, wife. I shall be writing to Annius now.) VXOR. Ad
Annium? Imperatorem dicis? (To Annius? You mean the emperor?) TARRVTENIVS.
Ipsum. (The very man.) VXOR. Cur igitur non dixisti "imperatorem"?
(Then why did you not say "the emperor"?) TARRVTENIVS. Quia imperator
vobis est; mihi Annivs est. Semel Annivs, semper Annivs. (Because he is emperor
to you; to me he is Annius. Once an Annius, always an Annius.) +> The
birth-name identifies the man more fundamentally than the imperial title does.
What I especially like here is that the wife's objection is wholly Urmsonian.
She is not puzzled about who is meant. She has already identified the referent
correctly. Her complaint is about aptness: "You mean the emperor?"
"Yes." "Then why on earth didn't you say so?" And
TARRVTENIVS' answer is not really informative. It is a philosopher's private
pleasure in choosing a less expected referring expression because it reveals
what he takes to be a deeper truth about the man referred to. The wife hears
affectation; the husband hears precision. That is exactly the sort of
conversational mismatch Urmson delighted in exposing. Urmson's concept, for the
record, corresponds to that of a 'dossier' in Grice -- symbolised by delta --
the set of definite descriptions and proper names attached to one
'conversational topic.' Problem is Urmson never cared much for it after Urmson
WAS NOT AWARE that it was coming from The New world. Parochial English
philosophers of Grice's and Urmson's generation lost interest when their
Oxonian colleagues had settled in the New World and left his Oxford official
affiliations. Neither would Grice have heard of this point by Urmson once
settled in the New WOrld, since he was busy getting faimiliar with a new
studentship, new readings, new syllabi, etc. Thanks Yes, and I think your
recollection is philosophically illuminating, even if historically one would
want to verify the exact lines in Urmson. The connection is very close. What
Urmson calls aptness in referring expression and what Grice later formalises as
a dossier, Δ, concern the same phenomenon viewed from different angles. For Urmson,
the question is: A. "I saw Mrs Smith's husband in front of our house
today." B. "You mean the postman?" A. "Yes." B.
"Then why didn't you say so?" The issue is not reference. Reference
succeeded. The wife immediately identifies the intended individual. The issue
is appropriateness relative to the conversational situation. Why choose one
item from the dossier rather than another? For Grice, the dossier Δ contains things like: Mrs Smith's husband the postman the man with the
bicycle the fellow who delivers our letters John Smith all attached to a single
conversational topic or referent. The philosophical problem then becomes: Why
did the speaker select this dossier-entry rather than that one? Our TARRVTENIVS
example works exactly that way. (*) TARRVTENIVS. Novum munus accepi, uxor. Ad
Annium nunc scribam. (I have a new appointment, wife. I shall be writing to
Annius now.) VXOR. Ad Annium? Imperatorem dicis? (To Annius? You mean the
emperor?) TARRVTENIVS. Ipsum. (The very man.) VXOR. Cur igitur non dixisti
"imperatorem"? (Then why did you not say "the emperor"?)
TARRVTENIVS. Quia imperator vobis est; mihi Annivs est. Semel Annivs, semper
Annivs. (Because he is emperor to you; to me he is Annius. Once an Annius,
always an Annius.) +> Among the available descriptions of the same person,
the birth-name is the one I regard as most fundamental. The wife's irritation
is precisely Urmsonian. She is objecting to the choice of dossier-entry. And I
think your larger historical observation is plausible as intellectual
sociology. Once Oxford philosophers dispersed, the network of mutual commentary
weakened. Grice in America developed some themes very far beyond their original
Oxford conversational setting. Urmson, remaining in the Oxford orbit, often
pursued different concerns. The dossier idea becomes central to Grice's
treatment of reference and speaker meaning, whereas Urmson's observations about
aptness remain more local, practical, and conversational. Speranza's dry
summary might be: "Urmson asked why one says 'Mrs Smith's husband' rather
than 'the postman'. Grice replied by constructing a dossier. The wife was
satisfied with neither answer." Urmson's concept is actually 'aposite' --
whereas Grice, again for a New-World addresee, sticks to the more familiar
Kantian quartette Qualitas-Quantitas-Relatio-Modus. Aposite -- is what T. is
suppose to be and he is flouting that expectation. We can search for
'ad-positio' and 'ad-ponere' and why this became a 'rhetorical term' whose
flouts and games originate figures of rhetoric -- 'lack of apositeness'. 'He is
being aposite'. Are those common. Is there reference or Short/Lewis entry for
the verb as bearing _this_ use? Thanks This is a very nice point, and I think
you are right to distinguish Urmson's "appositeness" from Grice's
later and more architectonic categories of Quantity, Quality, Relation, and
Manner. The philological news is actually rather encouraging. The Latin adverb
appositē does exist, and Lewis' Elementary Dictionary glosses it: appositē:
"fitly, suitably, appropriately." [perseus.tufts.edu],
[logeion.uchicago.edu] That is remarkably close to Urmson's philosophical use.
The family behind it is: appōnō (ad + pōnō) to place near, put beside.
[perseus.tufts.edu], [logeion.uchicago.edu] appositus placed beside, applied.
[logeion.uchicago.edu], [latindictionary.io] appositē appropriately, suitably,
fitly. [perseus.tufts.edu], [logeion.uchicago.edu] One can therefore see the
semantic development rather naturally: physical placing beside → fitting one
thing to another → suitability → appropriateness → Urmsonian appositeness. The
interesting thing is that the Latin evidence points less toward rhetoric
initially than toward fitness of placement. Something is appositum because it
has been put where it belongs. Later the idea becomes suitability of expression
or choice. This is why Urmson's example works so well: "I saw Mrs Smith's
husband." "You mean the postman?" "Yes." "Then
why didn't you say so?" The issue is not truth, reference, or
informativeness. The issue is that the chosen dossier-entry was not appositē
chosen. In your TARRVTENIVS example: (*) TARRVTENIVS. Novum munus accepi, uxor.
Ad Annium nunc scribam. (I have a new appointment, wife. I shall now write to
Annius.) VXOR. Ad Annium? Imperatorem dicis? (To Annius? You mean the emperor?)
TARRVTENIVS. Ipsum. (The very man.) VXOR. Cur igitur non dixisti
"imperatorem"? (Then why did you not say "the emperor"?)
TARRVTENIVS. Quia imperator vobis est; mihi Annivs est. Semel Annivs, semper
Annivs. (Because he is emperor to you; to me he is Annius. Once an Annius,
always an Annius.) +> The birth-name is the most appropriate way of
identifying him. The wife's complaint is precisely that the final implication
is crazy from the standpoint of appositeness. "Imperator" is the
socially appropriate designation in the household context. TARRVTENIVS
intentionally flouts appositeness for private philosophical amusement. As to
rhetoric, I suspect your instinct is right. Many figures arise from departures
from what would otherwise be appositē said. Metaphor, periphrasis, irony,
litotes, and so on often involve saying something less straightforwardly
appropriate than the most direct expression. The rhetorician's art begins where
ordinary appositeness ends. Speranza's gloss might be: "Grice asked
whether an expression is true, informative, relevant, or perspicuous. Urmson
first asked whether it was apposite. The wife notices the failure long before
the philosopher explains it." And one thing Grice couldn't leave when
addressing his addressee in the New World -- was: er. Urmson. The only English
philosopher (along with Strawson) that he quotes in 'Utterer's meaning and
intentions' is exactly Urmon -- these discussions were carried over at Oxford,
of course, since Urmson provided the college -- Corpus -- where the Saturday
morings meetings were organised by Grice after Austin's demise. Thanks Yes, and
I think this is one of those small but revealing facts about Grice's
intellectual loyalty. Even after his move to the New World, Grice never
entirely abandoned the Oxford conversational republic from which his ideas
emerged. In "Utterer's Meaning and Intentions" (and related papers of
that period), the names that recur are not random authorities but participants
in a long-running local conversation. Strawson is there, naturally; but Urmson
is there too, and not merely as a colleague. Urmson represents precisely the
sort of ordinary-language sensitivity which Grice never ceased to admire, even
when he was building increasingly elaborate theoretical machinery. Your point
about Corpus is important. After Austin's death, the Saturday-morning discussions
continued under Grice's guidance, and Corpus Christi College, where Urmson was
based, became one of the institutional homes of that continuing conversation.
So when Grice cites Urmson, one is often hearing not merely a published article
being acknowledged, but an echo of innumerable Oxford exchanges, objections,
examples, and counter-examples. Indeed, the Urmson example: "I saw Mrs
Smith's husband today." "You mean the postman?" "Yes."
"Then why didn't you say so?" belongs exactly to that world. It is
not a laboratory example. It is a common-room example. Its interest lies not in
reference failure but in conversational fitness, what Urmson called
appositeness. Grice eventually absorbs much of this territory into his own
framework of dossiers, implicature, conversational expectations, and choice
among co-referential expressions. But one sometimes has the feeling that
Urmson's original question remains closer to household life: "Why did you
choose to put it that way?" The famous Gricean questions come later:
"What did the speaker mean?" "What was implicated?"
"What assumptions made the uptake possible?" Urmson's wife asks the
first question and never sees the need for the others. A Speranzian epigram
might be: (*) VRMSON. Vidi hodie maritum dominae Smith. (I saw Mrs Smith's
husband today.) VXOR VRMSONI. Tabellarium dicis? (You mean the postman?)
VRMSON. Ipsum. (The very man.) VXOR VRMSONI. Cur igitur non dixisti
tabellarium? (Then why did you not say the postman?) +> The philosopher has
chosen a perfectly successful referring expression and a thoroughly inapposite
one. And one suspects Grice delighted in that example because the conversation
does not fail. It succeeds. The wife understands at once. The puzzle begins
only after understanding has been achieved. That is very
Oxford.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tartarotti -- Grice e
Tartarotti: la ragione conversazionale della differenza delle voci nella lingua
italiana e la sua rilevanza filosofica, o dell’ omicidio rituale. Note su Del
Congresso notturno delle Lammie. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Girolamo Tartarotti (Rovereto, Trento, Trentino-Alto Adige): la ragione
conversazionale della differenza delle voci nella lingua italiana e la sua
rilevanza filosofica, o dell’ omicidio rituale -- Grice’s theory of
reason-governed conversational meaning explains how hearers routinely derive
what a speaker means from what is said by presuming cooperative, rational
conduct in talk: interlocutors assume a shared purpose (“Cooperative
Principle”) and interpret departures from its maxims (quantity, quality, relation,
manner) as calculable signals that generate conversational implicatures, so
that meaning is anchored in publicly recognizable communicative intentions and
norms of rational exchange rather than in words alone. Tartarotti, by contrast,
is an eighteenth-century Roveretan cleric-erudite best known for his
interventions in debates on witchcraft (notably Del congresso notturno delle
Lammie, 1749, printed by Pasquali) and for a broader Enlightenment-style
critical method (libertas ingenii/libertas philosophandi), and he is not a
theorist of conversational meaning in Grice’s technical sense; what your
passage imaginatively attributes to him—“ragione conversazionale” behind
“differences of voices” in Italian and the philosophical stakes of mishearing,
culminating in a mock scenario where a phrase like “ammazza!” could be taken as
either culinary praise or evidence in a “ritual murder” accusation—fits
Tartarotti more as a satirically apt emblem of his anti-credulous,
philological-legal sensibility than as a documented doctrine. The sharpest
comparison, then, is that Grice offers a general, explicitly normative-rational
framework explaining how interlocutors bridge literal content and intended
meaning (and how misunderstanding is predicted when maxims are flouted or
contexts shift), whereas “Tartarotti” in your staged dialogue functions as a
historically situated figure whose concerns with interpretation, testimony, and
culturally loaded signs (voices, exclamations, accusations) resonate with
Gricean themes but remain pre-theoretical: he would treat misinterpretations as
products of superstition, poor evidential standards, and interpretive
malpractice, while Grice would diagnose them as predictable pragmatic
inferences from linguistic form plus presumed rational cooperation, defeasible
by context and cancellable by clarification. Nasce da Francesco
Antonio, giureconsulto, poi membro del Consiglio cittadino dei trentuno, e da
Olimpia Camilla Volani, discendente della nobile famiglia Serbati. Studia
dapprima presso il modesto ginnasio di Rovereto, con scarso profitto, e dove
colmare autonomamente le tante lacune, a partire dall’apprendimento del latino.
A questo periodo di intensa applicazione risalgono due dissertazioni: il
Dialogo della lingua latina e le Annotazioni al Dialogo delle false
esercitazioni delle scuole di Paleario, in polemica contro l’uso di insegnare
il latino col latino, entrambe pubblicate nella Raccolta ferrarese. Si trasferì
a Padova per dedicarsi agli studi: ospitato da Calza, che lo introduce nella
cerchia degli accademici patavini, è allievo e amico, fra gli altri, di Serry,
Lazzarini e Volpi. Il soggiorno padovano, ancorché breve – dopo un
anno dovette tornare a Rovereto per mancanza di fondi, e rimane nelle
ristrettezze finché non conquista una certa indipendenza economica con
l’ausilio di un fedecommesso Serbati – risulta particolarmente significativo:
ha accesso per la prima volta a biblioteche ricche e fornite, acquisì un metodo
di studio ben più solido di quello scolastico, comincia a frequentare i
classici della letteratura italiana – e a scrivere liriche non più alla maniera
di Zappi, ma seguendo il modello di Petrarca -- Graser, Vita – e consegue una
nuova maturità critica nel segno della libertas ingenii difesa nel De
ingeniorum moderatione di Muratori, testo fondamentale per
T. Tornato a Rovereto, con l’intento di dare vita a un’impresa tesa
al rinnovamento dell’arretrato panorama culturale trentino, fa arrivare da
Verona lo stampatore Berno, a cui affida l’impressione delle Orationes di
Muret, per facilitare lo studio del latino. accusa di omicidio rituale, la
differenza delle voci nella lingua italiana.
Grice: Caro Tartarotti, mi chiedevo: nella lingua italiana, con tutte
queste differenze di voci, non potrebbe accadere che un "omicidio
rituale" venga scambiato per una semplice discussione animata a tavola? È
la magia del sintamme, no? Tartarotti: Ah, fidati di Grice per essere l’unico
capace di unire simili sintamme in un unico colpo! D’altronde, se si sente
gridare “ammazza!” in Trentino, potrebbe essere solo un elogio culinario… o la
prova di una dialettica particolarmente vivace! Grice: Quindi, se mi capita di
studiare la differenza delle voci, devo stare attento a non ritrovarmi nel bel
mezzo di un processo per omicidio rituale? Certo che la filosofia italiana è
più pericolosa di quanto pensassi! Tartarotti: Ma sì, Grice, qui fra Rovereto e
Padova, basta una sfumatura vocale per trasformare un teorema in una tragedia!
Meglio riderci sopra: al massimo, finiremo accusati di omicidio… del silenzio!
Tartarotti, Girolamo (1749). Del Congresso notturno delle Lammie. Venezia:
Bettinelli
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarutilio – Ossia: Grice
e Tarutilio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Tarutilio. The gens Tarutilia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. No
members of this gens are mentioned in history, but several are known from
inscriptions. Origin The nomen
Tarutilius belongs to a class of gentilicia that was typically derived from
either cognomina ending in the diminutive suffix -ulus, or perhaps the double
diminutives -illus or -ellus,[1] or more probably in this case, from existing
gentilicia,[2] such as Tarutius, a nomen of Etruscan origin.[3] Members This list includes abbreviated
praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Tarutilius,
named in a bone inscription from an uncertain location, dated the nones of
October, 77 BC.[4] Tarutilius, mentioned in a portion of the Fasti Praenestini
immediately following the Larentalia, for which he apparently left a large
testamentary donation.[5] Aulus Tarutilius, the former master of Aulus
Tarutilius Philomusus.[6] Aulus Tarutilius A. l. Philomusus, a freedman buried
at Rome, some time between the middle of the first century BC, and the first
century AD.[6] Lucius Tarutilius, the former master of Lucius Tarutilius
Saturninus.[7] Lucius Tarutilius L. l. Saturninus, a freed child buried at Rome
during the first half of the first century, aged two years, four months.[7] See
also List of Roman gentes References
Chase, pp. 122–124. Chase, p.
125. Dictionary of Greek and Roman
Biography and Mythology, vol. II, p. 151 ("Tarutius
Firmanus"). CIL I, 943. AE 1898, 14.
CIL VI, 27117. CIL VI, 6129. Bibliography 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). 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).
Category: Roman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tarutilio – Ossia:
Grice e Tarutilio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Tarutilio. For the Tarutilii, I think the best Grice-Speranza specimen is not one
of the freedmen, but the mysterious TARVTILIVS mentioned in the Fasti
Praenestini as having left a large testamentary donation after the Larentalia.
The reason is that the whole thing turns on a speech-act par excellence: a
testament. A will is an ideal Gricean object. The utterer is absent, perhaps
dead. Yet the utterance continues to operate. Indeed, it operates precisely
because the utterer is absent. The question becomes: what did TARVTILIVS intend
by these dispositions, gifts, and bequests? Roman law is then forced to recover
intention from a text whose author can no longer answer objections. The
freedmen are appealing, especially Aulus Tarutilius Philomusus, because
manumission always raises questions of naming and status. But the testamentary
donor lets one connect meaning, intention, inheritance, and posthumous agency
in a single figure. I would therefore imagine him thus: (*) HERES. Mortuus est;
quid nunc vult? (He is dead; what does he want now?) TARVTILIVS. Testamentum
reliqui; voluntas mea superstes est. (I have left a will; my intention
survives.) +> My death does not prevent my intentions from guiding the
disposition of my property. The Latin is deliberately simple because the point
is simple. Grice would have liked the paradox. Ordinary conversation assumes a
living speaker monitoring uptake. A testament lacks that luxury. Yet a Roman
testament remains one of the strongest cases of intentional communication. The
heir is perpetually asking: "What did he mean?" The testator can no
longer clarify, cancel, amend, or retract. Speranza's dry gloss might be:
"TARVTILIVS is useful because he proves that utterer's meaning survives
the utterer. The man dies; the implicata perish with him; but the will remains
stubbornly explicit." And there is a second, quieter irony. The gens is
almost invisible to history. Yet one TARVTILIVS survives because he left a
donation. He disappears as a man and reappears as an intention. That is perhaps
the most Gricean immortality available to an obscure Roman.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Taruzio – Ossia: Grice e
Taruzio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Taruzio. The gens
Tarutia, also found as Tarrutia, was an obscure plebeian family at ancient
Rome. Few members of this gens are mentioned in Roman history, of whom the
best-known is probably Lucius Tarutius Firmanus, a noted mathematician and
astrologer of the first century BC.
Origin The nomen Tarutius is of Etruscan origin.[1] Branches and cognomina Firmanus, the cognomen
of the mathematician Lucius Tarutius, was derived from his original home of
Firmum in Picenum.[1] Members This list
includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see
filiation. Lucius Tarutius Firmanus, a friend of both Varro and Cicero, was a
mathematician and astrologer. Varro consulted him regarding the life of
Romulus, and Firmanus cast the ancient king's horoscope. He concluded that
Romulus was born September 23, in the second year of the second Olympiad, 771
BC, and that Rome was founded on April 9. Varro rejected the later date in
favour of the traditional celebration of Rome's founding on the Palilia, April
21.[2][3] Tarutia C. l. Medona, a freedwoman buried at Barium in Apulia in a
tomb built by the freedman Gaius Tarutius Philomusus for himself, Tarutia, and
a third person named Acratus, dating from the early first century.[4] Gaius
Tarutius C. l. Philomusus, a freedman who built a tomb at Barium for himself,
the freedwoman Tarutia Medona, and a third person named Acratus, dating from
the early first century.[4] Tarutius, named on a cinerarium from Altinum in
Venetia and Histria, dating from the early first century.[5] Lucius Tarutius,
named on a cinerarium at Altinum, dating from the early first century.[6]
Quintus Tarrutius Tranquillinus, one of several men entrusted with the
maintenance of Rome's fountains in AD 141.[7] Tarutius Victor, together with
Didius Valerianus, one of the heirs of Aulus Valerius Cassianus, a soldier
buried at Blera in Etruria. He and Didius built a tomb for Valerius, dating
between the beginning of the second century, and the late third century.[8]
Tarutius, named in a sepulchral inscription from Rome, dating from the first
half of the fourth century.[9] Tarutius, named in a sepulchral inscription from
Rome, dating from the latter half of the fourth century.[10] Undated Tarutii
Tarutia, named in a sepulchral inscription from Aquileia in Venetia and
Histria.[11] Tarutius, named in an inscription from Maglona in Britain.[12] See
also List of Roman gentes References
Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. II, p. 151
("Tarutius Firmanus").
Plutarch, "The Life of Romulus", 12. Cicero, De Divinatione, ii. 47. CIL IX, 301. AE 1981, 448.
AE 1981, 453. CIL VI, 161. CIL XI, 3535.
ICUR, v. 14663. ICUR, ix.
24496a. Brusin, Inscriptiones Aquileiae,
i. 1198. RIB, ii. 7, 2501,535.
Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, De Divinatione. Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus (Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and
Romans; "Quaestiones Romanae" (Roman Questions). 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). René Cagnat et alii,
L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses
Universitaires de France (1888–present). The Roman Inscriptions of Britain
(abbreviated RIB), Oxford, (1990–present). Giovanni Battista Brusin,
Inscriptiones Aquileiae (Inscriptions of Aquileia), Udine (1991–1993). Category: Roman gentes And for this gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Taruzio – Ossia: Grice
e Taruzio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Taruzio. For the
Tarutii the choice is easy: Lucius TARVTIVS Firmanus, the astrologer whom Varro
consulted about the birth of Romulus and the foundation of Rome. He is almost a
tailor-made Grice-Speranza figure, because he is engaged in a strange activity:
reconstructing what nobody could possibly have witnessed by calculating
backwards from effects to origins. Romulus is already legendary; the dates are
already traditional; yet TARVTIVS undertakes to determine, by mathematical and
astrological reasoning, when Romulus was born and when Rome was founded. Cicero
and Plutarch both preserve the tradition. [philopedia.org], [en.wikipedia.org]
The Gricean point is that TARVTIVS treats history as if it were a
conversational problem. Given certain signs, what is one entitled to infer?
Given the Rome we see, what birth-date and horoscope would fit its founder? The
question is not unlike a hearer's question: given this utterance, what
intention best explains it? The delicious detail is that Varro does not wholly
accept TARVTIVS' conclusions. Firmanus calculates; Varro prefers the
traditional Palilia date. Thus we get not merely a prediction but a
disagreement about evidence. The dyad almost writes itself: (*) VARRO. Romulus
quando natus est? (When was Romulus born?) TARVTIVS. Caelum respondebit ubi
testes desunt. (The heavens will answer where witnesses are lacking.) +>
When direct testimony is unavailable, one may attempt to reconstruct the past
from systematic signs. Or, even more pointedly: (*) VARRO. Nemo interfuit qui
diem natalem Romuli memoriae tradiderit. (No one was present to hand down the
day of Romulus' birth.) TARVTIVS. Astra supersunt. (The stars remain.) +> In
the absence of human testimony, celestial evidence may serve as a basis for
inference. What I like here, from a Speranzian angle, is that TARVTIVS is
neither prophet nor historian in the ordinary sense. He is an interpreter of
traces. The witnesses are dead; the founder is mythical; the city nevertheless
exists. His task is to move backwards from sign to origin. The dry gloss might
be: "TARVTIVS Firmanus is useful because he attempted to calculate what
Rome preferred to remember. Varro supplied the question, Romulus supplied the
legend, the stars supplied the data, and TARVTIVS supplied the confidence."
And if Cicero and Grice are right about some 'signs' -- or 'meaning that...'
constructions in Grice -- have a necessary and some a non-necessary status, T.
cannot possibly mean that Romulus was born on a date, or rather Varro cannot
say that T. mean-NATURALLY that; only NON-NATURALLY that, since, well, to use
Grice's reference to the Kiparskys, the use is 'non-factive'! Thanks Exactly.
In fact, TARVTIVS Firmanus is a beautiful case for distinguishing what Grice
later separates as natural and non-natural meaning. If smoke means that there
is fire, then, barring complications, we are dealing with something like
natural meaning. The smoke does not intend to tell us anything. The connection
is evidential, symptomatological, in Cicero's language signum. And, as Grice
liked to stress, this use is factive: if the spots mean measles, the measles
had better be there. But TARVTIVS is doing something quite different. When
Varro asks him about Romulus' birth-date, TARVTIVS does not discover a sign
that naturally means: "Romulus was born on 23 September 771 BC." No
star, constellation, or horoscope can naturally mean that in the Gricean sense.
The alleged event is remote, legendary, and inaccessible to direct
confirmation. Indeed, the proposition may be false for all TARVTIVS knows. So
what TARVTIVS produces is closer to an interpretation, reconstruction, or
theoretical attribution. The heavens do not mean naturally that Romulus was
born on such-and-such a day. Rather TARVTIVS means, or intends his audience to
accept, that Romulus was born on such-and-such a day on the basis of
astrological reasoning. That is why your invocation of factivity is exactly
right. Smoke means fire. Those footprints mean someone passed this way. Those
spots mean measles. These are factive uses. By contrast: TARVTIVS' horoscope
means that Romulus was born on 23 September. is not factive in the same way.
The horoscope may support, suggest, imply, indicate, or be taken as evidence
for the proposition. But the proposition need not be true merely because
TARVTIVS advances it. Grice would probably enjoy putting it this way: (*)
VARRO. Astra significant Romulum eo die natum esse? (Do the stars signify that
Romulus was born on that day?) TARRVTIVS. Non significant; ego ex eis colligo.
(They do not signify it; I infer it from them.) +> The proposition about
Romulus is not contained in the stars but arises from my interpretation of
them. That catches the crucial distinction. The stars may be signs. But the
birthday is a conclusion. Or, in a suitably Speranzian formula: "TARVTIVS
does not read the date of Romulus' birth in the heavens as one reads a
milestone. The stars are evidence; the birthday is an inference. Smoke
naturally means fire. The constellation of Virgo naturally means nothing
whatever about Romulus until a sufficiently confident astrologer begins
writing."
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tataranni -- Grice e
Tataranni: la ragione conversazionale del gusto per l’antico – filosofia
basilicatese. Note sul Saggio d’un filosofo politico amico dell’uomo. Il Gruppo
di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Onofrio Tataranni (Matera, Basilicata): la ragione
conversazionale del gusto per l’antico – Grice’s theory of reason-governed conversational meaning treats
conversation as a cooperative, normatively constrained enterprise in which
hearers recover what a speaker means by assuming rational adherence to a shared
purpose and to maxims (quantity, quality, relation, manner), so that departures
from the literal content are not noise but calculable implicatures; on this
picture, “reason” is built into the very mechanism by which what is said
licenses what is meant. Tataranni, by contrast, belongs to the late-Enlightenment
Neapolitan world in which “ragione” is primarily a civic and moral power
(reformist, pedagogical, oriented to public virtue and political order), and
the “conversational” is less a formal inferential engine than a cultivated
practice of conversazione—an educated traffic in examples, classical memory,
and socially shared standards of taste and authority (the gusto per l’antico
functioning as a common cultural code). Read against Grice, Tataranni’s appeal
to Rome surviving as a name (stat Roma pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus)
can be taken as a miniature lesson in how names and inherited references steer
communal understanding even when the original reality has decayed, but the
explanatory burden sits on historical-cultural continuity rather than on a
general theory of implicature; where Grice would model the exchange as rational
inference from a maxim-flout to an intended meaning, Tataranni frames it as a
witty, tradition-saturated redirection of imagination and allegiance, showing
conversation as a medium in which reason works through shared classical
allusion and civic pedagogy more than through explicit, universalizable
conversational rules. Lucano di origine, esponente dell'illuminismo
napoletano. Non sappiamo a quale ceto appartenesse la sua famiglia, ma
sicuramente essa è fornita dei mezzi economici. Non a caso, quando è battezzato
nella chiesa cattedrale di Matera, i suoi genitori scelsero come padrino il
nobile Ferraù. Sin da ragazzo matura quella che è la sua vocazione, tanto
che divenne prima allievo del seminario diocesano. Sebbene ha una posizione di
un certo rilievo sia in ambito ecclesiastico, sia in ambito educativo, non
mostra alcun tentennamento nell'accettare l'invito del principe di Francavilla,
che lo vuole a Napoli per affidargli la direzione della sua
paggeria. Grazie a questo incarico, accrebbe ancor di più la stima di cui
già gode, stringendo rapporti amichevoli con i filosofi più illustri ed
autorevoli del tempo, incardinate nella reale accademia delle scienze e belle
lettere. Ha la possibilità di frequentare proprio tali stimolanti dibattiti,
che del resto avrebbero formato l'humus delle sue future riflessioni, in qualità
prima di direttore della paggeria, poi della scuola militare del real collegio
militare -- ufficialmente reale accademia militare -- fortemente voluta da
Ferdinando IV, che mostra di aderire al generale clima di rinnovamento e
consolidamento delle istituzioni militari del suo regno. Ha l'onore di esserne
il direttore, partecipando vivamente, dunque, al graduale svilupparsi e
moltiplicarsi dell'alveo della cultura politica riformatrice, che ancora
auspica un reale cambiamento all'interno dello stesso apparato monarchico.
Così, nell'arco di un settennio, pubblica dei saggi molto significativi, in cui
è evidente il suo tracciato ideale di società. Tuttavia, in seguito
agl’avvenimenti, quindi dopo il concordato e dopo la fallita congiura di
Lauberg, le sue posizioni rispetto alla politica e allo stato cambiano
tangenzialmente. filosofo principe, i sudditi e i cittadini, il popolo sovrano
– sovrano e monarca, filantropia del re.
Grice: Caro Tataranni, si dice che il “gusto pell’antico” porti dritto
a... BONONIA! Me lo suggerisce G. E. Moore con la sua aria da logico
inflessibile: amare l’antico è sinonimo di bolognesità, non trovi? Tataranni:
Ah, Grice, mi permetto una piccola correzione filosofica: se proprio il gusto
va all’antico, allora bisogna arrivare a ROMA! Certo, la città forse non è più
quella di un tempo, ma – come dice quel famoso epigramma – Stat Roma pristina
nomine, nomina nuda tenemus. Il nome resta anche se le mura vacillano! Grice:
Quindi mi stai dicendo che, a forza di cercare colonne e capitelli, rischio di
trovarmi davanti solo… nomi su pergamene polverose? Però, che consolazione
raffinata: puoi togliere Roma dall’Urbe, ma non dal discorso! Tataranni:
Esattamente! E così, quando la gente cerca la gloria di Roma, trova almeno la
gloria del suo nome. In fondo, persino una rosa, cambiato il nome, rimarrebbe
pur sempre… oggetto di discussione da filosofi! Meglio riderci su e intingere
la penna nell’inchiostro dell’antichità! Tataranni, Onofrio (1784). Saggio d’un
filosofo politico amico dell’uomo. Napoli: Bisogno.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tazio – Ossia: Grice e
Tazio – Grex gricieana – verbalia: Tazio. The gens Tatia was
a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. This gens is perhaps best known from
the legendary figure of Titus Tatius, a Sabine king who fought against Romulus,
and who subsequently became joint ruler of Rome. None of the Tatii held any of
the higher magistracies of the Roman Republic, but a number are known from
inscriptions. Origin The Tatii claimed
descent from Titus Tatius, a Sabine king, who after fighting Romulus to a
standstill, agreed to joint rulership of the city.[1][2][3] During this period,
many Sabines settled at Rome, eventually making up a significant portion of the
city's early populace.[4][5][6] While Romulus and Titus Tatius are widely
regarded as legendary figures whose historicity cannot be established, modern
scholars agree that there was a large Sabine element in the early Roman
population, from which the Tatii might have been descended. Praenomina The main praenomina of the Tatii
were Lucius, Marcus, Gaius, and Aulus, all of which were common throughout all
periods of Roman history. A freedwoman of this gens bore the Faliscan praenomen
Volta.[7] Branches and cognomina
Inscriptions of the Tatii are found throughout central and southern Italy, from
Umbria to Lucania. Besides Rome, the only place with a significant number of
inscriptions from this family is Tarracina, in southern Latium. At least one
family of this gens settled in Numidia. None of the Tatii known from epigraphy
bear hereditary surnames; all of their cognomina seem to be personal
names. Members This list includes
abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation.
Titus Tatius, the king of Cures in Sabinum, during the time of Romulus.
According to legend, his army assaulted Rome following the Rape of the Sabine
Women, and fought the Romans fiercely, until Hersilia and the Sabine wives of
the Romans interceded, bringing about a truce between the two peoples. Tatius
became joint ruler of Rome alongside Romulus. He was later slain in a riot at
Lavinium, supposedly because he had insulted the ambassadors of Laurentum, a
neighboring town.[1][2][3] Lucius Tatius L. f., quaestor at Paestum in Lucania
at some point in the latter half of the third century BC.[8] Aulus Tatius M. l.
Antiochus, a freedman and argentarius, or money-changer, buried at Fundi in
Latium, along with Marcus Tatius, another freedman, according to an inscription
dating between 88 and 78 BC.[9] Marcus Tatius M. l., a freedman buried at Fundi
between 88 and 78 BC, alongside the freedman Aulus Tatius Antiochus.[9] Volta
Tatia T. l., a freedwoman named in a sepulchral inscription from Carreum
Potentia in Liguria, dating from the first century BC.[10] Lucius Tatius L. f.,
named in a sepulchral inscription from Corfinium in Samnium, dating from the
middle part of the first century BC.[11] Gaius Tatius C. l. Bodorix, a freedman
of Gaulish descent, buried at Mutina in Cisalpine Gaul, between the middle of
the first century BC and the first quarter of the first century AD.[12] Tatia
Ɔ. l. Salvilla, a freedwoman named in an inscription from Rome, dating between
the middle of the first century BC, and the middle of the first century AD.[13]
Tatia M. l. Philema, a freedwoman named in an inscription from Rome, dating
from the early first century, along with the freedman Marcus Tatius Sabina, and
others.[14] Marcus Tatius M. l. Sabina, a freedman named in a first-century
inscription from Rome, along with the freedwoman Tatia Philema. Sabina was
deceased at the time of the inscription.[14] Aulus Tatius A. f. Ampliatus, the
husband of Silvia Apricula, a woman buried at Casilinum in Campania during the first
half of the first century.[15] Marcus Tatius M. l. Hilarus, a freedman buried
at Tarracina in Latium during the first half of the first century, along with
the freedmen Marcus Tatius Pusio and Marcus Tatius Menemachus.[16] Tatia L. C.
l. Isia, a freedwoman buried at Rome in a family sepulchre built by the
freedman Publius Granius Philargurus, probably her husband, dating from the
first half of the first century.[17] Marcus Tatius M. l. Menemachus, a freedman
buried at Tarracina during the first half of the first century, along with the
freedmen Marcus Tatius Pusio and Marcus Tatius Hilarus.[16] Marcus Tatius M. l.
Pusio, a freedman buried at Tarracina during the first half of the first
century, along with the freedmen Marcus Tatius Menemachus and Marcus Tatius
Hilarus.[16] Aulus Tatius, named in a first-century inscription from
Herculaneum in Campania.[18] Tatia Antiochis, the wife of Aulus Aemilius
Primus, a freedman who built a first-century tomb at Tarracina for himself, his
wife, their daughter, Tatia Prima, and others.[19] Marcus Tatius Largus, one of
the donors who contributed to a first-century statue at Tarracina.[20] Tatia A.
f. Prima, daughter of the freedman Aulus Aemilius Primus and Tatia Antiochis,
buried in a first-century family sepulchre built by her father at
Tarracina.[19] Marcus Tatius M. f. Rufus, formerly a duumvir, buried at
Tarracina, along with his wife, Vedia Tertulla, in a first-century tomb built
by their son, Marcus Tatius Paetinus.[21] Marcus Tatius M. f. M. n. Paetinus, dedicated
a first-century tomb at Tarracina for his parents, Marcus Tatius Rufus and
Vedia Tertulla.[21] Lucius Tatius Ɔ. l. Philogenes, a freedman named in a
first-century sepulchral inscription from Interamna Nahars in Umbria.[22] Tatia
Tyche, buried at Rome in a tomb built by her husband, Gaius Terentius Actius,
dating some time between the accession of Nero and the death of Domitian.[23]
Tatia Baucylis, nurse to seven great-grandchildren of the emperor Vespasian,
buried in a late first-century tomb at Rome.[24] Marcus Tatius Naicus, buried
at Rome in a tomb dedicated by his wife, Grania Atticilla, dating between the
middle of the first century and the middle of the second.[25] Gaius Tatius
Epictetus, dedicated a second-century tomb at Rome for his brother, Stephanus,
and his daughter, Flavia Urbica.[26] Tatia Septim[...], dedicated a
second-century tomb at Pagus Urbanus in Samnium for her daughter, Tatia
Lea.[27] Tatia Lea, a girl buried in a second-century tomb at Pagus Urbanus in
Samnium, aged eleven years, six months, and twelve days, with a monument from
her mother, Tatia Septim[...].[27] Tatia Macrina, dedicated a second-century
tomb at Alba Helviorum in Gallia Narbonensis to her son, Macrinus.[28] Lucius
Tatius Felix, buried at Cirta in Numidia, aged forty-five, in a tomb built by
his wife, Sittia Maxima, dating from the late second or early third
century.[29] Tatia Fortunata, buried in a third-century sepulchre built by her
husband at Rome.[30] Tatia Ariste, buried in a fourth-century tomb at Rome.[31]
Tatius Eyticius, buried in a fourth-century tomb at Rome.[32] Undated Tatii
Tatia, buried at Rome, aged twenty, in a tomb built by her husband.[33] Tatia,
the freedwoman of Charis, named in an inscription from Fundi in Latium, along
with the freedwoman Tatia Andronica.[34] Tatia, the wife of Publius Marius and
mother of Gaius, who built a tomb for her at Brixia in Venetia and Histria out
of the legacy provided to him in her will.[35] Tatia, buried at Hispalis in
Hispania Baetica, aged twenty-eight. Her monument describes her as dear to one
Optatus, whose relationship to her is not recorded.[36] Tatius, named in a
sepulchral inscription from Mediolanum in Gallia Narbonensis.[37] Tatius,
mentioned in an inscription found at the site of modern Rimburg, formerly part
of Germania Inferior.[38] Tatius, placed a monument at the site of modern
Pedraza, formerly part of Hispania Citerior.[39] Gaius Tatius L. f., named in
an inscription from Clusium in Etruria.[40] Lucius Tatius, named in a
sepulchral inscription from Rome.[41] Gaius Tatius Albanus, dedicated a tomb at
Fundi for his freedman, Fortunatus.[42] Tatia M. l. Andronica, a freedwoman
named in an inscription from Fundi, along with Tatia, the freedwoman of
Charis.[34] Lucius Tatius Capito, dedicated a tomb at Sigus in Numidia for his
wife, Baebia Aristilla.[43] Decimus Tatius D. l. Dionysius, a freedman named in
a sepulchral inscription from Rome.[44] Gaius Tatius Ger[...], named in an
inscription from Rome.[45] Tatia Januaria, named in a sepulchral inscription
from Rome.[46] Tatia L. f. Lucilla, a girl buried at Naeva in Hispania Baetica,
aged five.[47] Lucius Tatius L. f. Neptunalis, buried at Sigus.[48] Tatia
Rufina, an elderly woman buried at Rome, aged one hundred and six years, eleven
months, and sixteen days, in a tomb built by her son.[49] Tatius Sintrophus,
named in a bronze inscription from Rome.[50] Lucius Tatius L. l. Socr[...], a
freedman named in an inscription from Altinum in Venetia and Histria.[51]
Marcus Tatius M. l. Tertius, a freedman named in an inscription from Fundi.[52]
Tatia Tharissa, buried at Thenae in Africa Proconsularis, along with another
woman named Calpurnia Theoclia.[53] See also List of Roman gentes
References Livy, i. 10, 13, 14. Dionysius, ii. 36 ff. Plutarch, "The Life of Romulus",
17–19. Livy, i. 13. Dionysius, i. 46. Plutarch, "The Life of Romulus",
19, 20. Latin Dialect of the Ager
Faliscus, 7.7.2 (1). CIL I,
3152. AE 2015, 333. AE 1991, 721.
CIL IX, 7339. CIL XI, 867. CIL VI, 7444.
ZPE, 136–271. AE 1977, 193. CIL X, 8406.
CIL VI, 19091. CIL IV,
10599a. Coppola, Terracina, 196. CIL X, 6331.
CIL X, 6330. CIL XI, 4309. CIL VI, 27155. CIL VI, 8942.
CIL VI, 4765. AE
1973, 121. CIL IX, 2993. AE 2001, 1346. Gsell, Inscriptions Latines de L'Algérie, ii.
1, 1792. CIL VI, 36404. ICUR, iii. 9177. ICUR, ii. 4686. CIL VI, 36403. CIL X, 6276.
CIL V, 4646. CIL II, 1243. CIL V, 6162.
Nesselhauf, "Neue Inschriften aus dem römischen Germanien",
253. Hispania Epigraphica,
1997–725. CIL XI, 7170. CIL VI, 27121. CIL X, 6274.
CIL VIII, 19143. CIL VI,
27122. CIL XV, 7994. CIL VI, 27123. CIL II, 1081.
CIL VIII, 5858. CIL VI,
27124. CIL XV,
8494. CIL V, 8827. CIL X, 6275.
BCTH, 1941/42–41. Bibliography Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Romaike
Archaiologia. Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome. Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus
(Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. 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). Bulletin
Archéologique du Comité des Travaux Historiques et Scientifiques
(Archaeological Bulletin of the Committee on Historic and Scientific Works,
abbreviated BCTH), Imprimerie Nationale, Paris (1885–1973). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy,
abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). Stéphane
Gsell, Inscriptions Latines de L'Algérie (Latin Inscriptions from Algeria),
Edouard Champion, Paris (1922–present). Herbert Nesselhauf, "Neue
Inschriften aus dem römischen Germanien und den angrenzenden Gebieten"
(New Inscriptions from Roman Germania and Adjacent Areas), in Berichte der
Römisch-Germanischen Kommission, vol. xxvii, pp. 51–134 (1937). Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik (Journal of Papyrology and
Epigraphy, abbreviated ZPE), (1987). Hispania Epigraphica (Epigraphy of
Spain), Madrid (1989–present). Maria Rosaria Coppola, Terracina. Il museo e le collezioni (Terracina: The Museum and the Collections),
Rome (1989). Gabriël Cornelis Leonides Maria Bakkum (ed.), The Latin Dialect of
the Ager Faliscus: 150 Years of Scholarship, Amsterdam (2009). Category: Roman
gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H.
P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tazio – Ossia: Grice e
Tazio – Grex gricieana – verbalia: Tazio. For the Tatii, I
would resist the temptation to choose the legendary king immediately, precisely
because he is too obvious. If one wants a Grice-Speranza vignette, the best
choice is still TITVS TATIVS, but not as warrior. Rather, as the co-ruler of
Rome with Romulus. The reason is that he gives us perhaps the earliest Roman
experiment in what Abbott mistakenly wanted the consuls to be: not co-leapers,
but co-rulers. The whole story culminates in conversation. War has reached
stalemate. The Sabine women, now daughters, wives, and mothers belonging
simultaneously to both peoples, intervene. The result is neither victory nor
defeat, but shared sovereignty. That is almost irresistibly Gricean. The matter
is settled not because one side defeats the other, but because a new
conversational situation has emerged. The women change the description. Before:
Romans versus Sabines. After: Fathers versus husbands. Once that redescription
is accepted, the war becomes pragmatically impossible. I would therefore make
the dyad: (*) ROMVLVS. Hostes sunt Sabini. (The Sabines are enemies.) TATIVS.
Affines sunt Sabini. (The Sabines are kinsmen.) +> The same people cannot
indefinitely be treated as enemies once they have become members of the same
civic community. The beauty of the exchange is that TATIVS does not deny the
facts. The Sabines have indeed been enemies. He merely supplies a different
description under which the same people are to be taken. That is very close to
Grice's fascination with modes of presentation. The Roman historians themselves
come surprisingly near to this idea. The war stops because the participants are
no longer able to sustain the original categorisation. The women have created a
new dossier. Speranza might add: "TITVS TATIVS is useful because he wins
the only Roman war that ends by changing the subject." And there is
another reason to prefer him. Unlike Tarpeia, Lucretia, Verginia, or Horatia,
the Sabine women actually alter the political outcome while remaining alive.
The Roman tradition usually allows women either to die nobly or be punished
memorably. Here they succeed. TATIVS governs jointly with Romulus because they
intervene. So for the gens Tatia, my specimen would be TITVS TATIVS, not as
founder of a lineage, but as Rome's first lesson that an apparently insoluble
conflict may be resolved by a more appropriate description of the parties
involved. That is a very Gricean moral indeed. And is our PARTICULAR hero -- or
is it the GENS as such -- which is associated with -TRI-BE, the R., the T., and
"the I forget which" (Grice)? Thanks Yes, and here Grice's memory was
actually pretty good, despite the "I forget which." The traditional
three early Roman tribes were: Ramnes
Tities Luceres The standard ancient
explanation connected them respectively with:
Romulus and the Romans (Ramnes), Titus Tatius and the Sabines (Tities),
a third element, the Luceres, often associated in later antiquarian speculation
with an Etruscan component. The point
for your Tatia entry is that TITVS TATIVS is not merely a legendary Sabine king
who happens to lend his name to a gens. He is also associated with one of the
three primordial divisions of the Roman people, the Tities. In that sense, the
connection is not just personal but quasi-constitutional. A Speranzian
observation would be that the gens Tatia enjoys an unusual privilege among
obscure gentes. Most Roman families have to work their way upward into history.
The Tatii begin at the very moment when Roman society itself is supposedly
being partitioned and organised. One might even give TITVS TATIVS a slightly
revised dyad: (*) ROMVLVS. Romani erunt. (They shall be Romans.) TATIVS. Etiam
Sabini erunt. (They shall also be Sabines.) +> The new community must
preserve both identities rather than absorb one entirely into the other. That
gets closer to the legendary role assigned to Tatius. He is not merely a
participant in the merger; he is the representative of one of the constituent
elements from which the Roman people are composed. Grice's joke would then be:
"Rome begins with three tribes. I remember the R. and the T. The third
escapes me. Which is perhaps fitting, since everyone has always argued about
the Luceres." And historically that is not far wrong. Ancient writers
themselves were often much less certain about the Luceres than about the obvious
associations of the Ramnes with Romulus and the Tities with Titus Tatius.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tattio – Ossia: Grice e
Tattio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Tattio. The gens Tattia
was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Few members of this gens are
mentioned in history, but others are known from inscriptions. The most
illustrious was probably Gaius Tattius Maximus, an eques who rose to become
praetorian prefect under Antoninus Pius.[1]
Origin The nomen Tattius is thought to be of Sabine origin, and is
listed by Chase among those gentilicia known to be Umbrian, Picentine, Sabine,
or from southern Latium.[2] This nomen must be distinguished from that of the
Tatia gens, although, as both are thought to be Sabine, it is possible that
they were originally the same. A number of the Tattii known from epigraphy
lived among the Samnites, who claimed descent from the Sabines, and in various
towns of Apulia and Lucania. Among the surnames of the Tattii are Vestinus and
Paelinus, suggesting that they claimed descent from, or at least affinity with,
the Vestini and Paeligni, Oscan-speaking peoples who fought against Rome during
the Samnite Wars, and obtained Roman citizenship following the Social War. Praenomina The Tattii used several common
praenomina, particularly Marcus, Lucius, and Gaius, the three most abundant
names throughout all periods of Roman history. Other names associated with this
gens include Aulus, Publius, Quintus, and Titus, each of which was also common,
as well as the Oscan praenomen Statius.
Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of
this practice, see filiation. Tattia C. l. Antemis, a freedwoman, is named
alongside the freedmen Gaius Tattius Alexander and Gaius Tattius Capito in a sepulchral
inscription from Sulmo in Samnium, dating from the middle of the first century
BC.[3] Gaius Tattius C. l. Capito, a freedman, is named along with the freedman
Gaius Tattius Alexander and the freedwoman Tattia Antemis in a sepulchral
inscription from Sulmo, dating from the mid-first century BC.[3] Gaius Tattius
C. l. Alexander, a freedman named along with the freedman Gaius Tattius Capito
and the freedwoman Tattia Antemis in a sepulchral inscription from Sulmo,
dating from the middle of the first century BC.[3] Lucius Tatius T. f. Coxsa,
one of the magistrates of Lavernae in Samnium, together with his colleagues,
built a wall, gate, and a temple for the Bona Dea, commemorated in an
inscription dating from the latter half of the first century BC.[4] Tattia L.
l. Dionysia, a freedwoman named in an inscription from Praeneste in Latium,
dating from the first half of the first century, along with the freedman Lucius
Tattius Epinicus.[5] Lucius Tattius L. l. Epinicus, a freedman named in an
inscription from Praeneste, dating from the first half of the first century,
along with the freedwoman Tattia Dionysia.[5] St. Tattius St. f. Paelinus,
husband of the freedwoman Bennia Exoche, with whom he dedicated a first century
tomb at Interpromium in Samnium for their daughter, Tattia Ionice.[6] Tattia
St. f. St. n. Ionice, a girl buried in a first-century tomb at Interpromium,
aged seven years, eight months, with a monument from her parents, Statius
Tattius Paelinus and Bennia Exoche.[6] Tatia Ɔ. l. Salvia, the wife of Gavius
Tertius and mother of Saturnina and Amaranthus Pyrallis, who dedicated a
first-century monument to their parents at Peltuinum in Samnium.[7] Tattia, the
wife of Tiberius Claudius [...]cus, with whom she dedicated a tomb at Portus in
Latium for their daughter, Tattia Te[...], dating from the reigns of Hadrian or
Antoninus Pius.[8] Tattia Ti. f. Te[...], daughter of Tiberius Claudius
[...]cus and Tattia, who built a tomb for her at Portus during the reigns of
Hadrian or Antoninus Pius.[8] Quintus Tattius Vestinus, the son of Decumedus,
was buried at Peltuinum, alongside his wife, Alledia Egloge, in a
second-century tomb built by Ofanius Hyginus, who is identified as his
brother.[9] Gaius Tattius Maximus, a tribune of the equites during the mid-second
century, he was prefect of the vigiles in 156, and subsequently praetorian
prefect under the emperor Antoninus Pius.[1][10][11] Tattia Hesperis, dedicated
a monument at Numistro in Lucania to Tattia Marcella, dating between the middle
of the second century and the middle of the third.[12] Tattia Jucunda, buried
at Volcei in Lucania, in a tomb dedicated by her daughter, Casinia Quartilla,
dating between the middle of the second century and the middle of the
third.[13] Tattia Marcella, buried at Numistro, aged seventy-five, with a
monument from Tattia Hesperis, dating between the middle of the second century
and the middle of the third.[12] Lucius Tattius Pelopianus, buried at Numistro,
aged fifty, with a monument from his wife, Tattia Procula, dating between the
middle of the second century and the middle of the third.[14] Tattia Procula,
dedicated a second- or third-century tomb at Numistro for her husband, Lucius
Tattius Pelopianus.[14] Marcus Tattius Fructianus, the husband of Tattia
Prepusa, with whom he built a late second- or early third-century tomb at Atina
in Lucania for their son, Marcus Tattius Fructanus.[15] Tattia Laemotina,
buried at Salona in Dalmatia, aged twenty-three, with a monument from Caetennia
Amullina, dating between the middle of the second century and the end of the
third.[16] Marcus Tattius Fructianus, built a tomb at Atina for his wife, Fabia
Zosima, dating from the late second or early third century.[17] Marcus Tattius
M. f. Fructianus, perhaps the same Fructianus as the husband of Fabia Zosima,
was buried at Atina in the late second or early third century, with a monument
erected by his parents, Marcus Tattius Fructianus and Tattia Prepusa.[15]
Marcus Tattius, mentioned in a third-century sepulchral inscription from
Rome.[18] Undated Tattii Marcus Tattius Blandus, a potter whose maker's mark
was found at Rome.[19] Quintus Tattius P. f. Postimus, buried at Aquilonia in
Samnium.[20] Tattius Rogatianus, perhaps the son of Lucius Tattius Rogatus,
donated to the cult of Saturn at the site of modern Talah, formerly part of
Africa Proconsularis.[21] Lucius Tattius Rogatus, buried at the site of Talah,
aged eighty-five.[22] Aulus Tatius Secundus, built a tomb at Rome for his wife,
M[...] Hygia.[23] Tattia V[...], named in a sepulchral inscription from
Marruvium in Samnium.[24] See also List of Roman gentes References PIR, vol. III, p. 197 (T, No. 28). Chase, pp.
128, 129. CIL IX, 7340. CIL IX, 3138.
CIL XIV, 3381. CIL IX, 3069. CIL IX, 7574. Thylander, Inscriptions du port d'Ostie,
A–67. CIL IX, 3494. CIL VI, 222, CIL VI, 31150, CIL VI, 31151,
CIL VI, 31152. AE 2009, 1070. CIL X, 441. CIL X, 8114.
AE 2009, 266. CIL X, 366. CIL III, 2549. CIL X, 350.
AE 1993, 380. CIL XV, 3534. CIL IX, 6266.
CIL VIII, 23282. CIL VIII,
563. CIL VI,
19600. CIL IX, 3760. 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). Paul von Rohden, Elimar
Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography
of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Hilding Thylander,
Inscriptions du port d'Ostie (Inscriptions from the Port of Ostia), Acta
Instituti Romani Regni Sueciae, Lund (1952). Category: Roman gentes And from
THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tattio – Ossia: Grice e
Tattio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Tattio. For the Tattii,
the obvious political choice was TITVS TATIVS. For the TATTII, however, I would
choose Gaius TATTIVS Maximus, praetorian prefect under Antoninus Pius. The
reason is delightfully Gricean. A praetorian prefect lives in a world of
reports, intelligence, testimony, informers, recommendations, commands, and
interpretations. His profession is not fighting enemies so much as deciding
which utterances and reports are to be believed. A dyad might run: (*) NVNTIVS.
Omnes idem dicunt. (Everyone says the same thing.) TATTIVS. Tum maxime
quaerendum est quis primus dixerit. (Then one must especially ask who said it
first.) +> Repetition of a report does not necessarily increase its
evidential value if all the reports derive from a single source. The reason I
like this one is that it reverses the naïve view of testimony. The messenger
supposes that multiple reports equal stronger evidence. TATTIVS, trained by
administration and intelligence-work, immediately asks about provenance. It is
also close to Grice's concern with uptake and transmission. A proposition
repeated by ten people may still have only one origin. What matters is not
merely how many heard it, but who first uttered it and why. There is, however,
a second candidate whom Speranza might secretly prefer: Lucius TATIVS Coxsa,
the magistrate who helped build a wall, gate, and temple of Bona Dea. Why?
Because of the astonishing cognomen Coxsa, which sounds suspiciously non-Latin
and local. One could imagine: (*) CIVIS. Cur murum et portam simul aedificatis?
(Why are you building a wall and a gate at the same time?) TATIVS COXSA. Murus
hostes arcet; porta amicos admittit. (A wall keeps enemies out; a gate lets
friends in.) +> A community defines itself not merely by exclusion but by
regulated admission. That is a nice Roman and Gricean thought. Pure exclusion
produces siege; pure inclusion produces chaos. The gate is as important as the
wall because communication requires a controlled passage between inside and
outside. Still, if forced to choose a single hero for the gens, I should keep
GAIVS TATTIVS Maximus. A praetorian prefect is, after all, a professional
evaluator of communicative acts, and that is very close to a Gricean vocation. And
who was Bona Dea -- was there an antonym for her? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tattio – Ossia: Grice e
Tattio – Grex griceiana: verbalia: Tattio Bona Dea simply means "the Good
Goddess" in Latin. She was associated with women, healing, fertility,
chastity, and the welfare of the Roman people. Her cult was famous because many
of its rites were restricted to women. [en.wikipedia.org], [britannica.com] Now
the Gricean question is much more interesting: Was there an antonym? A Mala Dea
("Bad Goddess")? Not really. The Romans did not normally organize
their divinities by straightforward moral opposites in the way a philosopher
might wish. Bona Dea is almost a euphemistic title rather than a personal name.
It resembles calling a supernatural power "the Kindly One" or
"the Good Lady." The title emphasizes beneficence and reverence, not
contrast. [en.wikipedia.org], [britannica.com] A Speranzian observation would
be: Bona here functions less as an
adjective distinguishing her from a rival Mala Dea than as an honorific
description. Indeed, Roman religion
occasionally uses positive epithets precisely where one does not wish to utter
anything provocative. The title itself is already diplomacy. One can imagine a
Grice-Speranza dyad: (*) PEREGRINVS. Cur deam "Bonam Deam"
appellatis? (Why do you call the goddess "the Good Goddess"?)
SACERDOS. Quia nemo de deos male loquitur. (Because nobody speaks ill of the
gods.) +> A respectful title is safer than asking awkward questions about
the deity's true name. There is actually something fittingly Gricean about
this. The goddess' "proper" identity was notoriously obscure, and
ancient authors themselves disagreed whether she was Fauna, Damia, an aspect of
Ceres, Terra, or something else. [en.wikipedia.org], [britannica.com] So one
might say: We know she is Bona more
clearly than we know who she is. Which
is a splendidly Roman solution to a theological problem.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Taurio – Ossia: Grice e
Taurio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Taurio -- The gens Tauria was an obscure
plebeian family at ancient Rome. No members of this
gens appear in history, but a number are known from inscriptions. Origin The nomen Taurius is derived from the
Latin surname Taurus, referring to a bull.[1][2] Chase lists it among those
gentilicia that either originated at Rome, or cannot be shown to have come from
anywhere else.[1] Praenomina The Taurii
known from epigraphy bore a variety of common praenomina, including Lucius,
Gaius, Marcus, and Publius, each of which was among the most abundant names at
all periods of Roman history, as well as the old but less common praenomen
Tiberius. Members This list includes
abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation.
Lucius Taurius L. f., one of the magistrates of Carthago Nova in Hispania
Citerior in an uncertain year toward the end of the first century BC.[3] Lucius
Taurius Secundus, a native of Parma in Cisalpine Gaul, paymaster of the century
of Kanus, in the third cohort of the praetorian guard in AD 143.[4] Publius Taurius
Secundus, named in a first- or second-century sepulchral inscription from
Aquileia in Venetia and Histria, along with Tauria Primula.[5] Tauria Primula,
named in a first- or second-century sepulchral inscription from Aquileia, along
with Publius Taurius Secundus.[5] Tauria M. l. Tyche, a freedwoman, dedicated a
family sepulchre at Patavium in Venetia and Histria, dating from the late first
or early second century, for herself, her husband, Titus Annius Cerinthus, and
their daughter, Annia Pieris.[6] Taurius Myro, named in a third-century
sepulchral inscription from Rome.[7] Taurius, dedicated a fourth-century
sepulchral monument at Rome.[8] Undated Taurii Tauria Nice, dedicated a
monument at Ostia in Latium for her husband, Lucius Cornelius Herculanus.[9]
Gaius Taurius Primitivus, one of the mourners named on the monument of Arminia
Gorgilla, a young woman buried at Rome, aged fifteen years, five months, and
six days.[10] Tiberius Taurius Taurus, son of one of the municipal duumvirs at
Augustoritum in Gallia Aquitania.[11] Tauria Titiola, a descendant of the
Haedui, buried at Lugdunum in Gallia Lugdunensis, with a monument from her
husband, Maternus.[12] Gaius Taurius Ursinus, buried at Ateste in Venetia and
Histria, with a monument from his wife, Valeria Rhodine.[13] See also List of
Roman gentes References Chase, p. 131. Cassell's Latin and English Dictionary, s.v.
taurus. CIL II, 3408. CIL VI, 2379. CIL V, 8253.
CIL V, 3043. ICUR, ix.
25377. ICUR, x. 27076. AE 2018, 260.
CIL VI, 5642. AE 1961, 56. AE 1935, 15.
CIL V, 2702. Bibliography 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). 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). D.P.
Simpson, Cassell's Latin and English Dictionary, Macmillan Publishing Company,
New York (1963). Category: Roman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Taurio –
Ossia: Grice e Taurio – Grex griceiana – verbalia: Taurio For the Taurii, I
would choose Tiberius TAVRIVS Tavrus almost immediately, even though he is
epigraphically modest. Why? Because he bears the wonderfully Roman, almost
comic, name: Tiberius TAVRIVS TAVRVS which is very close to being "Bullius
Bull." The nomen derives from taurus ("bull"), and the cognomen
is actually Taurus itself. That gives Speranza a gift: the problem of how much
information is too much information. A Gricean speaker normally avoids useless
repetition. Yet Roman nomenclature often appears to delight in it. So I would
construct the vignette around naming rather than biography: (*) CIVIS. Quid
nomen est iuveni? (What is the young man's name?) TAVRIVS. Tiberius Tavrius Tavrus. (Tiberius Taurius Taurus.) CIVIS. Semel
satis erat. (Once would have been enough.) TAVRIVS. Bos idem
manet, etiam si bis dicitur. (The bull remains the same, even if mentioned
twice.) +> Repetition of a description does not increase the identity of its
bearer. The joke is that the second speaker behaves exactly like a Gricean
hearer faced with a violation of conversational economy. Why: Taurius already evokes the bull. Taurus
evokes the bull again. The information seems duplicated. The reply then treats the duplication as
harmless. There is another possible choice, however: Lucius TAVRIVS Secundus,
the paymaster of a praetorian century. A paymaster lives in a world of
accounts, distributions, lists, and receipts. That is very close to the Roman
version of conversational bookkeeping. But the onomastic joke of TAVRIVS TAVRVS
is too good to waste. Speranza's dry gloss might be: The gens Tauria is useful because it reminds
us that a Roman could be called "Bull" twice in the same breath and
still feel that no redundancy had occurred. Grice would object that the second
bull contributes no new information. A Roman would answer that one can never
have too much bull.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Tazio – Ossia: Grice e
Tazio. This episode below in Abbott involves Romolo, but
previously, TAZIO and TARPEIO -- So Grice and Speranza will have it under
'Tazio' -- can you provide atestation historic, possible dialogical
reconstruction as per oratio obliqua turned oratio recta where it matters --
The Tazio/Tarpeia conversation seems rich -- the behaviour by the Sabine women
seems interesting -- the institution of the extra king of the Quirites
interesting -- the 'death' of Tazio typical etc? Input? Feedback? Thanks.
Passage: The water in those days was not so well laid on as in later times;
when the lofty aqueducts, still running in ruins about the neighbourhood of
Rome, are carried to an elevation fitted for the very highest service that
could be desired. Rome, instead of being well supplied, was supplied by wells;
and ladies of rank were accustomed to draw the water required for domestic
purposes. It chanced, one afternoon, that Tarpeia, the daughter of TARPEIO, the
commander of the Roman city, on the Capitoline Hill, was proceeding on an
errand of the sort, when she met with TAZIO, who, addressing her in the
language of a friend, requested "a drink" of her pitcher. Tarpeia,
dazzled by the splendour of his gold bracelets and glittering armour, could not
resist the request of such a highly polished gentleman. TAZIO had purposely
electrotyped himself for the interview, and, seeing the effect he had produced,
he intimates that he has several friends, who are covered with metal quite as
attractive as that he wears, and that, if Tarpeia would only open the gate of
the citadel to himself and party, she should have more gold than she could
carry. The bargain is faithfully kept on both sides; for Tarpeia opens the gate
to TAZIO and the Sabines, who, on their part perform their contract to the letter,
for, as they enter, they throw at her not only their bracelets but their
breast-plates, completely crushing her with the weight of the gold she had
coveted; and making her think, no doubt, that "never was poor woman so
unmercifully put upon." So thorough an illustration of an embarras des
richesses is not often met with in history. Being now possessed of the
Capitoline, the Sabines were in an improved position; and the Romans, having
tried in vain to recover the citadel, see that they must either give in or give
battle. Determining on the latter course, ROMOLO selects the valley between the
Palatine and the Capitoline, where a general engagement begins. But the Romans
seem to have special engagements elsewhere, for they are all running away, when
their leader, with great tact, vows a Temple to Jupiter Stator — the
flight-stayer. This gives to the action a decided re-action; for the Romans,
being rallied upon their cowardice, by their chief, begin, in their turn, to
rally. The contest grows fierce on both sides, when suddenly the Sabine ladies,
who are the primary cause of the quarrel, throw themselves into the midst; and,
though female interference has rarely the effect of making peace, the women
are, on this occasion, the cause of a cessation of hostility. It is agreed that
the two nations should be henceforth united under the name of Romans and
Quirites, each having a distinct king, a distinction which, had it continued,
must in time have led to a difference. In a few years, however, TAZIO was slain
at a sacrifice which he had attended without the remotest idea of being made a
victim himself; and ROMOLO, finding nothing said about a successor, thought it
politic to hush the matter up without even avenging his late colleague. This is
a very rich Abbott passage, and—again—he is not inventing out of nothing, but
compressing, redistributing, and dramatizing several strands found in Livy and
later sources. Let me unpack the historical/mythical “attestation layer” and
then give you a plausible Latin reconstruction (oratio obliqua → recta) where
the sources allow it. 1. The
Tarpeia–Tatius episode (attested core)
Livy (1.11): the essentials
Tarpeia is the daughter of the Roman commander of the Capitoline (Sp.
Tarpeius). Tatius bribes her with
gold: auro corrumpit Tatius (“Tatius
corrupts her with gold”) [feminaeromanae.org]
She agrees to open the gate. She
asks: what they have on their left arms
(quod in sinistris manibus haberent) [Texts on T...ty Chicago] The Sabines: “obrutam armis necavere” (“they crushed her
with their arms [weapons/shields] and killed her”) [Texts on T...ty
Chicago] Important ambiguity (already in
Livy) Livy gives two interpretations:
She wanted gold bracelets She actually wanted their shields/weapons
(i.e. trying to disarm them) → This
ambiguity is crucial—and Abbott exploits it.
2. Is there dialogue between Tarpeia and Tatius? Not preserved verbatim in Livy But implicit negotiation is clearly present
Livy reports: bribery agreement
conditional phrase (“what is on their left arms”) → This is effectively oratio obliqua of a
bargaining dialogue So we can safely
reconstruct oratio recta Based strictly on Livy’s content, a plausible Latin
exchange is: TATIUS “Si arcem nobis aperueris, dabo tibi quod in
sinistris manibus gerimus.” (If you open the citadel, I will give you what we
wear on our left arms.) TARPEIA “Accipio pactum: date mihi quod in sinistris
manibus habetis.” (I accept the bargain: give me what you have on your left
arms.) SABINES (fatal
“fulfillment”) “Accipe mercedem!” (Take
your payment!) → and they crush her with
shields This is fully consistent with
Livian syntax and logic. 3. Abbott’s
embellishments Abbott adds: flirtation
“polished gentleman” Tatius conscious irony in “embarras des richesses” These are:
Victorian dramatizations not in
Livy 4. The Sabine women: historically
attested role Livy (1.13) and others
After battle: Sabine women intervene
they: place themselves between armies
appeal to both sides Outcome: war stops political union As summarized: the women intervened and brought reconciliation
between Romans and Sabines [en.wikipedia.org]
This is one of the most “dialogical” episodes in substance Even though
speeches are rarely preserved verbatim, the logic is: Women’s implied
argument: “Do not kill: our fathers or our husbands” Plausible Latin reconstruction: “Nolite sanguine nostro parentibus aut
coniugibus nocere!” (Do not harm our fathers or our husbands through our
blood!) 5. The joint kingship (Romulus
+ Tatius) Attested two kings rule jointly people called: Romans (name preserved) Quirites (Sabine
association) [en.wikipedia.org]
Meaning: Rome = fusion
polity 6. Death of Tatius Attested
killed later at a religious gathering (Lavinium) in revenge for earlier
injustice Tatius was murdered after
failing to punish wrongdoing by his followers [theodora.com] Suspicion (ancient already) Some traditions
hint: Romulus may have allowed it → Abbott’s “hush the matter up” reflects that
suspicion. 7. Gricean angle: Tarpeia
negotiation This is a beautiful case of implicature failure. Tarpeia’s utterance: “quod in sinistris manibus habetis” Intended meaning (possibly): bracelets
Recognized meaning by Sabines:
shields (also on left arms) So
we get: Speaker meaningHearer interpretationgoldshieldsrewardpunishment This is a catastrophic ambiguity of
non-natural meaning. 8. Final
synthesis Tarpeia and Tatius do not
exchange direct speeches in the sources, but Livy clearly encodes a negotiation
that can be reconstructed into plausible oratio recta. The Sabine women’s intervention and the
subsequent joint kingship are firmly attested and central to Roman identity as
a fusion of peoples. Tatius’ later death
(possibly unavenged) already carried a hint of political suppression or
ambiguity in the sources. The Tarpeia
episode itself is a classic case of semantic ambiguity leading to fatal
“misinterpretation”, which Abbott exploits for humor but which is already
embedded in Livy’s double explanation.
One-line conclusion (very much in your idiom): The Tarpeia bargain is Rome’s first
diplomatic exchange—and already it shows that when “what is on the left arm” is
left underdetermined, the addressee supplies the meaning with a shield rather
than a bracelet. If you like, we can
next compare how Propertius eroticizes the Tarpeia story—it gives a completely
different “dialogue” tone between her and Tatius. But is the ambiguity in
Tarpeia's utterance intentional? It doesn't seem so -- you were mentioning that
she wanted the shields TO DISARM them? But she has opened the gate and the
bribe has been consumed, even if the exchange of gold for favour of gate opening
taken place. But at this point it seems unreasonble or insensible ofTarpeia --
the daughter of Spurius Tarpeius no less -- who should know better even if she
held no office -- to pretend that the Sabines will disarmour to her mere wish.
Now, if the condition for opening the gate was that they would disarmour, that
would change things. But surely not something Father Spurio would ever have
conceived. The femaleenss of TARPEIA seems important in that some seduction is
taken place, and while you say that Tazio was killed for a different reason, it
seems that there is place for ex post facto moralising for this brutal action
against the 'fentle sex' but who are the ROmans to hava a word to say on this
after the Sabine 'ratto' episode? The Sabine women's utterance is ambiguous in
that isn't there some legend that they have CLAUDICATED (if that's the word)
their swearing or vow to fathers (the majority of them) and HUSBAND (only one
'abudcted Sabine' was a WIFE, already) -- Input? Feedback? Thanks You’re asking
exactly the right question here: is Tarpeia’s ambiguity intentional, or are
later authors projecting motives onto a fundamentally incoherent act? And the
answer is: the ancient tradition itself is split, uneasy, and philosophically
unstable—rather like your Gricean “failed implicature.” Let me disentangle the
strands. 1. Livy’s own hesitation
(crucial) Livy does something very revealing:
he does not commit to a single explanation. He gives two incompatible accounts (as you’ve
sensed): Version A (the “standard moral”)
Tarpeia is corrupted by gold she wants the Sabines’ bracelets Version B (alternative, almost
apologetic) she asks for “what is on
their left arms” but really meant their shields (arma) i.e. she intended to
disarm them Livy explicitly signals
both possibilities [translate.com] So: the ambiguity is not clearly intentional
within the story but introduced by the historian himself 2. Is disarmament plausible? (your
objection) You raise an excellent objection:
how could Tarpeia expect a fully armed enemy, already admitted into the
citadel, to disarm? Exactly. That is why
most historians (including Livy’s tone) treat Version B as: a rationalising afterthought an attempt to
save her reputation So more
likely: she really meant jewelry the
“weapons” reading is: ex post facto
moral rehabilitation 3. The real
ambiguity (more subtle than it looks) The phrase: quod in sinistris manibus habent is ambiguous, yes—but not necessarily
strategically. It is ambiguous because:
in Sabine equipment: left arm =
bracelet and shield So we get: Tarpeia might intendSabines
deliverbraceletsshields Gricean angle
This is not: a subtle implicature but rather:
a failure of reference under shared vocabulary No shared disambiguation = fatal
outcome. 4. The “female” dimension (your
key insight) You are absolutely right to stress this. Tarpeia’s role in Roman
moral thought is: the negative
counterpart to the Sabine women.
Contrast in Livy:
FigureBehaviourMoralTarpeiabetrayal (for gain?)condemnationSabine
womenmediation & sacrificepraise So:
gender is central but distributed
across two models 5. Is Tarpeia “seduced”?
Livy himself: does not eroticize the
encounter focuses on: bribery (auro
corrumpit) not seduction But later
poets (Propertius, etc.): do eroticize
it Abbott blends these traditions
into: “polished gentleman” + dazzled
maiden 6. Sabine women: did they
“switch allegiance”? This is a very important and subtle point. What Livy shows The Sabine women argue: they are now both: daughters of Sabines wives of Romans Their plea:
do not make them: widows or orphans So: They do NOT simply “betray fathers”
Instead: they reframe identity In your terms: Not “claudication” (nice
coinage!) but: dual affiliation 7. The unique case of Hersilia You note
correctly: only one abducted woman may
have already been married Tradition
often singles out: Hersilia later wife of Romulus key mediator 8. Roman hypocrisy? (your sharp point) You
ask: what right had Romans to moralise
Tarpeia? Exactly. From a structural
perspective: Romans abduct women (Sabine
episode) condemn Tarpeia for betrayal
This is already implicit tension in Livy He juxtaposes: Tarpeia (bad woman) Sabine wives (good
women) But: both are acting in contexts created by Roman
violence 9. Tatius’ death (briefly)
Tatius: later killed at Lavinium for
failure to punish wrongdoing Sources
suggest: a moral symmetry: Tarpeia betrayed Sabines act treacherously
Tatius fails justice → is killed 10. Final synthesis The ambiguity in Tarpeia’s demand is not
clearly intentional within the story, but arises from Livy’s presentation of
competing explanations; the “disarmament” version is likely a later attempt to
mitigate her guilt. Your objection is sound: the idea that she expected the
Sabines to disarm after admission to the citadel is structurally implausible
and points strongly toward rationalisation. The contrast between Tarpeia and
the Sabine women is deliberate: one becomes a figure of betrayal, the others of
reconciliation—but both operate within a violent male-created framework. The
Sabine women do not simply switch sides; they articulate a dual identity,
mediating between kinship systems rather than renouncing one for the other. One-line conclusion (in your idiom): Tarpeia’s ambiguity is less a cunning
implicature than a breakdown of shared meaning later repaired by moralising
historians, whereas the Sabine women resolve a deeper ambiguity—not of words,
but of identity—by refusing to choose between the two sides that have already
claimed them. If you like, we can look
at Propertius’ Tarpeia next—he turns her from greedy traitor into an almost
tragic lover, which reframes everything again. And do we know the name of
Hersilia's first husband? Re your: “Nolite sanguine nostro parentibus aut
coniugibus nocere!” if we have HERSILIA as co-utterer there is ambibuity.
WITHOUT Hersilia the figure of speech is antithetical: our Sabine fathers and our
Roman husbands. If Hersilia is included the denotata change slightly: Our
Sabine fathers, and at least in one case, the memory of one's Sabine husband,
and a LATE SABINE HUSBAND and CURRENT ROMAN HUSBAND"? Input? Feedback? In
fact, isn't there a thing that since Hersilia was 'the other' that was the
reason the succession to throne passes to POMPILIO since anyone 'half-bred'
would not have done? Plus, she was not a virgin when she 'married' Romolo or
becasme Romolo's wife? Input? Feedback? Thanks. You’ve put your finger on
several of the most unstable points of the tradition, where even the ancient
sources hesitate—and where Abbott quietly simplifies what is actually a very
messy set of variants. Let me sort your questions carefully. 1. Did Hersilia have a first (Sabine)
husband? Short answer: We do NOT have a securely attested name of a
prior Sabine husband. But there is a strong tradition that she was already
married. The sources actually say: Many traditions agree: Hersilia was one of the few (sometimes the
only) married women abducted. [pantheon.org]
But they differ radically about her husband: Livy / common version → she becomes wife of
Romulus Alternative tradition
(Plutarch, Dionysius, etc.) → she was wife of Hostus Hostilius (a Roman, not
Sabine) [en.wikipedia.org] So: If she had a “prior husband,” the tradition
does not preserve a Sabine husband’s name. Instead, the competing account
places her as already married to: a
Roman (Hostus), or destined to become Romulus’ wife. 2. What happens to your carefully observed
ambiguity? You are absolutely right:
Hersilia complicates the formula: “parentibus … coniugibus” Without Hersilia: The sentence works
cleanly: parentibus = Sabine fathers
coniugibus = Roman husbands → elegant
antithesis With Hersilia (as already
married): Now we get a structural disturbance:
She may already have: a husband
before the abduction Then: becomes wife of Romulus Result: Exactly as you note: the denotata become unstable Possible readings: fathers (Sabine) husbands (Roman) plus
possibly a prior husband in memory But:
how do ancient sources treat this? They ignore the complication. They present
the women as: already integrated into
new marriages → the rhetorical structure
is preserved: categoryfunctionfathersoriginhusbandspresent So the ambiguity you see is real—but
suppressed in the tradition. 3. Did the
Sabine women “switch allegiance”? You suggest something like: “they abdicated their vow to their fathers” Ancient sources resist framing it like
that. What they actually do: They say
(in effect): we are now both: daughters wives So their argument is: do not destroy both our identities at
once So it is not: betrayal nor switching But:
dual belonging (simultaneity, not replacement) 4. Hersilia’s special role Hersilia is often
singled out as: leader of the women
mediator She therefore becomes: symbol of concordia Important Even if she had a prior
status: the tradition absorbs it into
her mediating role not into biographical consistency 5. Your succession question (very
perceptive) You ask: was Numa chosen
because no “mixed” heir was suitable?
What the sources actually say After Romulus: there is an interregnum then the Romans
choose: Numa Pompilius (a Sabine)
[en.wikipedia.org] And
importantly: this reflects: dual population (Roman + Sabine) So: Numa’s selection is indeed: a political compromise between peoples But: No source explicitly says: “we rejected a half-breed heir” That is:
not attested Your idea
(interpretive but interesting): It fits structurally: founder generation = unstable blending next
king = externally neutral Sabine 6. Was
Hersilia “non-virginal” at marriage? Yes
(in several traditions) she is
explicitly: already married or taken by
mistake among married women [pantheon.org]
This is important: she is
not: a standard virgin bride but:
an exceptional case So: Her role
already destabilizes: the simple “young
maiden abducted” model 7. Final
synthesis We do not know the name of any
prior Sabine husband of Hersilia; instead, sources disagree about whether she
was already married at all, and if so, often assign her to Hostus Hostilius
rather than a Sabine spouse. This creates exactly the ambiguity you identify in
the Sabine women’s plea: while rhetorically framed as fathers vs husbands, the
presence of a figure like Hersilia destabilizes the clean opposition by
introducing overlapping identities and possibly successive marital bonds. The
tradition suppresses this complexity in order to preserve the symbolic
structure—women as mediators between two peoples—while allowing Hersilia to
function as the paradigmatic agent of concordia. The succession of Numa
reflects a political balancing of Roman and Sabine elements, though the idea of
excluding “mixed descent” heirs is not explicitly stated in the sources and
remains an interpretive inference.
One-line conclusion (in your idiom):
Hersilia is the exception that proves the rule: her ambiguous marital
status exposes the instability that the formula “parentes … coniuges” tries to
conceal, even as the myth insists on a clean opposition between origins and
outcomes. If you like, we can next look
at Livy’s Latin for the women’s intervention itself, to see exactly how he
encodes (or conceals) this ambiguity.


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