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THE KING OF ATHENS: PHILOSTRATUS’ PORTRAIT OF HERODES ATTICUS

ESTELLE STRAZDINS

HILOSTRATUS’ THIRD-CENTURY-CE TEXT, the Lives of the Sophists, which invents and defines the so-called “Second Sophistic,” privileges Athens Pover any other city in the empire and Herodes Atticus over any other sophist. Athens is the center of sophistic activity; Herodes is the city’s most prominent citizen, and both the city and the man combine to create and reinforce each other’s significance within this work to the extent that the whole sophistic scene seems to be controlled by Herodes, and Athens itself becomes his domain.1 Re- cently, much scholarly attention has been paid to Herodes, but less to Philo- stratus’ rhetorical presentation of him, since many scholars have long accepted Philostratus as a eulogist or at least an apologist for the great man.2 On a superfi- cial level this picture, particularly Philostratus’ defensive stance toward Herodes, holds true. Yet, I argue, a closer look reveals that the anecdotal biography is in fact a complex mix of praise and blame. Herodes appears as a “larger than life” character, who is ever teetering on the verge of antisocial behavior at the same time as he dominates sophistic society in Athens. The most prominent aspect of Phi- lostratus’ critique involves the refraction of Herodes through a sophistic lens; that is, Philostratus uses the opposing concepts of the tyrant and the king, the ambiguous figure of the hero, and the revered figure of the philosopher (who appears as a foil to highlight Herodes’ excesses) to meditate on his place as an elite Greek in both Athens and the Roman empire.3 Herodes’ nature is in sharpest relief when juxtaposed to Roman emperors and, in this relationship, Herodes comes to resemble Athens’ legendary king, Theseus.

I am grateful to Tim Whitmarsh, Jaś Elsner, Jason König, Janet Downie, and CP’s anonymous reviewers, all of whom have provided insightful criticisms of various iterations of this article; all errors remain my own. Re- search for this article was generously funded by an Onassis Foundation Postdoctoral Fellowship and an Austra- lian Endeavour Research Fellowship. 1. Anderson 1986, 83; Eshleman 2008, 397–99; 2012, 128–32; Kemezis 2011; Civiletti 2002, 30–31. Kemezis (2014, 212) describes an exiled Aeschines’ foundation of the “movement,” its early ﬂourishing in Asia, and Herodes Atticus’ agency in returning it to Athens to make that city its center. Cf. Bowie 2015, 241–42. As well as personal identity and legacy, I will touch on aspects of cultural identity, whether literary or historical, that have been a focus of “Second Sophistic” studies. Some of the most important of these are: Bowersock 1969; Bowie 1970; Swain 1996; Gleason 1995; Schmitz 1997; Connolly 2001; Whitmarsh 2001 and 2005; König 2014. 2. E.g., Tobin 1997, 7: “Philostratus tries to present the more negative events in Herodes’ life ...in as pos- itive a light as possible ...he could not completely hide unpleasant facts about Herodes’ life. Instead, he tried to defend them or minimize them.” Cf. König 2014, 253; Papalas 1979, 96. See also Kemezis 2014, 209 for Philostratus’ Herodes as “the embodiment of everything a sophist should be.” Cf. Kemezis 2011, 8–11. 3. At VS 481 Philostratus describes his conception of the “Second Sophistic” and the importance of epideixis in character. See Whitmarsh 2001, 42; 2005, 4–5.

238 THE KING OF ATHENS 239

The majority of our evidence for Herodes is monumental, demonstrating his desire to write himself into the landscape on his own terms as prominently and vastly as possible.4 Like many of his contemporaries, he combines monumen- talization with epigraphic activity, but on a grander scale than his sophistic peers.5 A sensitive reading of this material evidence confirms the individuality, ambiguity, and complexity of Philostratus’ rhetorical portrait, but also empha- sizes Philostratus’ influence in shaping Herodes’ memory despite his own best efforts. In this article, I reconsider Philostratus’ Herodes by demonstrating how he uses stock rhetorical figures to characterize the Athenian magnate. Secondly, I show how reading Philostratus alongside elements of Herodes’ material-culture footprint builds a fascinatingly complex picture of one of the most charismatic and repellent figures of second-century Greece. Finally, I suggest reasons for the ambivalent portrait of Herodes that emerges from this process. By way of introduction, I will consider one episode during which Philostratus constructs the various aspects of Herodes’ character on which I later enlarge.

1. TYRANT,KING,HERO, OR GOD?THE ISTHMUS OF CORINTH

ἤλαυνε μὲντὴν ἐπὶ Κορίνθου ὁ Ἡρώδης ξυγκαθημένου του̃ Κτησιδήμου, γενόμενος δὲ κατὰ τὸν Ἰσθμὸν “Πόσειδον,” εἶπεν “βούλομαι μέν, ξυγχωρήσει δὲ οὐ δείς.” θαυμάσας οὖνὁ Κτησίδημος τὸ εἰρημένον ἤρετο αὐ τὸντὴναἰτίαν του̃ λόγου. καὶ ὁ Ἡρώδης “ἐγὼ ,” ἔφη “πολὺνχρόνονἀ γωνίζομαι σημειον̃ ὑ πολείπεσθαι τοιςμετ̃ ’ ἐμὲ ἀ νθρώποις διανοίας δηλούσης ἄνδρα καὶ οὔπω δοκω̃ μοι τη̃ς δόξης ταύτης τυγχάνειν.” ὁ μὲνδὴ Κτησίδημος ἐπαίνους διῄ ει τω̃ντελόγωναὐ του̃ καὶ τω̃ν ἔργων ὡ ςοὐ κ ἐχόντων ὑ περβολὴνἑ τέρῳ , ὁ δὲ Ἡρώδης “φθαρτὰ,” ἔφη “λέγεις ταυ̃τα, καὶ γάρ ἐστι χρόνῳ ἁ λωτά, καὶ τοὺς λόγους ἡ μω̃ν τοιχωρυχου̃σιν ἕτεροι ὁ μὲντὸ μεμφόμενος, ὁ δὲ τό, ἡ δὲ του̃ Ἰσθμου̃ τομὴ ἔργον ἀ θάνατον καὶ ἀ πιστούμενον τῇ φύσει, δοκει̃ γάρ μοι τὸ ῥ η̃ξαι τὸν Ἰσθμὸν Ποσειδω̃νος δεισθαι̃ ἢ ἀ νδρός.”

Herodes was driving to Corinth with Ctesidemus sitting by him; on arriving at the Isthmus, Herodes cried: “Poseidon, I want to do it, but no one will let me!” Amazed at what he had said, Ctesidemus asked him the reason for his remark. So Herodes replied: “For a long time I have been striving to leave behind to men that come after me some sign of an intention that reveals me as a man, and I consider that I have not yet achieved this reputation.” Then Ctesidemus narrated praises of his words and deeds which no other man could surpass. But Herodes replied: “All this that you speak of is perishable and liable to conquest by time, and others will plunder my speeches, criticizing now this, now that. But the cutting of the Isthmus is an immortal achievement and unbelievable by nature, for it seems to me that to cleave through the Isthmus requires Poseidon rather than a mere man.”6 (Philostr. VS 552)

This passage reveals three important aspects of Philostratus’ Herodes: his ambition to make a unique mark on the world that is suitable to his self-conception; his fear of mortality and loss of control over his reputation that it ensures; his desire for a heroic kind of immortal fame. Moreover, Herodes’ language iden-

4. On Herodes’ monuments, see Tobin 1997 and Galli 2002. 5. Ameling (1983) and Tobin (1997) contain inscriptional catalogues relating to Herodes. Arafat (1996, 191–92) describes the grand scale of his benefactions. 6. Translations are my own unless otherwise noted. 240 ESTELLE STRAZDINS tifies the metaphorical framework within which we are to locate him: he is striving (ἀ γωνίζομαι) to leave a sign (σημειον̃ ) of a purpose/intention (διανοία) that reveals him as a man (ἀ νήρ); yet, here, ἀ νήρ is perhaps best taken to mean the (great) man that he is.7 The verb ἀ γωνίζομαι signals a contest and, in context, suggests he is striving with himself, future generations, and the past, in that he wants to leave something indelible, remarkable, and unique. Since Homer, σημειον̃ has invoked a funeral monument or tomb marker. Herodes’ σημειον̃ must also be concrete, physical, and not open to misinterpretation, unlike his words, which have brought him contemporary fame but which can be manipu- lated by future audiences, with the implied potential consequence of manipulat- ing his memory. Concurrently, it suggests rivalry with the past, since carving the Isthmus places him in competition with all those who have tried and failed before him.8 The phrase “an immortal task and unbelievable in nature” (ἔργον ἀ θάνατον καὶ ἀ πιστούμενον τῇ φύσει) stresses the “man-made” quality of the hypothetical canal, but also the enormity of the task. So, it is fitting that Herodes’ words and deeds are praised, concepts that, when paired, recall Homer and Thu- cydides, and are features suitable to the “hero” (ἥρως) that Herodes’ name (Ἡρώδης) conjures and that Philostratus plays on throughout his anecdotal biography.9 This notion of altering nature is consistent with the pre-Troy, questing gener- ation of mythic heroes, who performed a civilizing function on the natural world. In particular, the Isthmus is associated with the Athenian hero-king Theseus, who supposedly erected a pillar there delineating the border between the Peloponnese and Ionia (Strabo 3.5.5, 9.1.6–7; Plut. Thes. 25.4). A link to Theseus is not created solely by mythic tradition: Herodes embedded himself in Isthmia by donating chryselephantine statues of Poseidon, Amphitrite, and Melicertes/Palaemon to the temple of Poseidon (Philostr. VS 551; Paus. 2.1.8), which may have been cult statues and may indicate a desire to represent himself monumentally as a “new Theseus.”10 The son of Poseidon, Theseus was believed to have transformed the Isthmian games from funeral games for Melicertes into an event in honor of his father (Plut. Thes. 25.4). Herodes too may have hoped his offerings at the temple would be interpreted as a filial act. Moreover, two more monuments echo Theseus: the arch raised at Marathon celebrating eternal matri- monial harmony between Herodes and his wife Regilla, which intertexts with Theseus’ pillar by delineating the spouses’ respective spaces within Herodes’ estate; and the bull on the nymphaeum dedicated by Regilla at Olympia that may recall the Marathonian bull captured and sacrificed by Theseus (Paus. 1.27.10; Plut. Thes. 15.1).11

7. In Philostratus’ VA, ὁ ἀ νήρ labels the protagonist honoriﬁcally to mean something akin to “the great man” (e.g., VA 1.2, 1.5, 1.6). Here the accusative ἄνδρα also recalls Homer’s Odysseus. 8. These ﬁgures also dreamt of cutting the Isthmus: Periander (Diog. Laert. 1.99), Demetrius Poliorcetes (Strabo 1.3.11), Julius Caesar (Suet. Iul. 44.3; Plut. Caes. 58.4), Nero (Philostr. VS 551; Nero 2; VA 4.24), Caligula (Suet. Calig. 21). See Tobin 1997, 314; Whitmarsh 1999, 142 n. 3. 9. Coté (2010) argues that, in his oratory, political power, and euergetism, Herodes emulates and represents a modern version of the Homeric hero. 10. See Tobin 1997, 312–14, for all of Herodes’ monumental efforts at the Isthmus. 11. Herodes’ arch also intertexts with Hadrian’s arch in Athens. See Tobin 1997, 243–44, 314–22; Gleason 2010, 135–38. THE KING OF ATHENS 241

Like heroes, however, tyrants too are renowned in literary sources for trying to control and shape the natural world. By implication, especially if Philostratus is the author of the Nero dialogue in the corpus of Lucian,12 any attempt to cut the Isthmus would also place Herodes in direct rivalry with that emperor, who himself tried to create an Isthmian canal. Needless to say, Nero is a tyrannical figure. In Philostratus’ Nero, the Lives of the Sophists, and Life of Apollonius of Tyana, cutting the Isthmus is cast as a deed of heroic proportions by the men who wish to do it (VS 551; Nero 2; VA 4.24);13 all three works, however, mock this notion. So, for example, when Nero personally abandons the task, Philostratus notes that he went to Corinth “believing he had surpassed all the deeds of Heracles” (τὰ Ἡρακλέους δοκω̃νὑ περβεβη̃σθαι πάντα, Nero 3). Nero’s self-belief, like that of Herodes, is raised to a heroic register on par with the one hero who, in some traditions, achieved immortality. It is also in this implication that Philostratus undermines Herodes’ rhetoric, since in the Nero the emperor’s attempt to cut the Isthmus boils down to a lot of show, little personal effort, and less effect: he turns a clod of earth with a golden fork and then leaves the task to slaves, eventually calling off the effort entirely (Nero 3). This image of the ineffectual Nero wielding a two-pronged fork (δίκελλα) clearly contrasts nega- tively with Poseidon and his trident and ties into Herodes’ lament that cutting the Isthmus is a task fit only for that god, with the effect of mocking Nero and belittling Herodes’ aspirations. These men are united further by Philostratus’ Ap- ollonius of Tyana 4.24, in which the same motive given to Herodes at Lives of the Sophists 551—reducing the length of the sea voyage—is attributed also to Nero. Moreover, Herodes’ statement, “no one will allow me,” implies permission is withheld by the current emperor as well. Philostratus confirms this, stating that Herodes was too scared to broach the subject “lest he be accused of grasping at an intention, which not even Nero brought to fruition” (ὡ ςμὴ διαβληθείη διανοίας δοκω̃ν ἅπτεσθαι, ᾗ μηδὲ Νέρων ἤρκεσεν, VS 551). Herodes’ great ambition (that purpose or διανοία that reveals him to posterity) is kept in check by those who have power over him and in this particular case he is compared neg- atively and ironically to the tyrant Nero. The stress Herodes places on the commemorative potential of the canal recalls the actions of another tyrant in Herodotus’ assessment of Xerxes’ canal by Mount Athos: “he wanted to show his power and to leave something by which to be remembered” (ἐθέλων τε δύναμιν ἀ ποδείκνυσθαι καὶ μνημόσυνα λιπέσθαι, Hdt. 7.24). Xerxes’ actions are invoked as tyrannical by Herodotus, Dio Chry- sostom (Or. 3.31–41), and the Nero’s Musonius Rufus (Nero 2), who labels the cutting of Athos and chaining of the Hellespont as examples of tyrannical obses- sion.14 So here, Philostratus stresses the tyrannical nature of Herodes’ quest for self-commemoration. Concurrently, however, he has connected or contrasted Herodes to Athens’ hero-king Theseus, Poseidon (albeit demeaningly), and Ro- man emperors (whose power surpasses his own). As we will see, Herodes’ apparent emulation of Theseus and Philostratus’ handling of it play an important

12. On the text as Philostratean, see Whitmarsh 1999, 143–44. 13. On Nero’s ambition, see also Dio Cass. 58.16–19; Suet. Ner. 19; Joseph. BJ 3.540. 14. Cf. Whitmarsh 1999, 149. See also Diod. Sic. 2.7–15 on Semiramis. 242 ESTELLE STRAZDINS role in Herodes’ biography as Theseus’ shade comes to symbolize a competing paradigm of governance to the imperial family. Finally, if the comparison with Nero holds, there must also be an implied contrast to Musonius Rufus: the philosopher who was exiled to the island of Gyara by Nero and who is the philosophical foil of that emperor in the Nero dialogue.15 Aligned with a tyrannical emperor, who stands for Roman power, and opposed to a philosopher, who although an Etruscan represents Greek culture in the Nero,16 is an odd position for the greatest of imperial sophists to ﬁnd himself in, but this is not an isolated incident in Philostratus’ Lives. Indeed, throughout the biography, the relationship between Philostratus’ Herodes, Roman emperors, tyranny, and philosophy is essential to understanding his characterization.

2. HERODES AS TYRANT Any scholarship addressing Greek literature in the Roman imperial period must inevitably engage with the complexity, mutability, and performativity of contemporary cultural identity, and the tension created by the many possible elite identities (e.g., Greek, Roman, local) available within the Roman imperial power structure.17 Herodes and his contemporary elite sophists existed in a complex relationship with both their polis and Rome. Although a circumscribed local auton- omy remained, especially for the elite, the wider context of Roman imperial rule ultimately limited their political and personal expression. Local offices and Ro- man administrative positions were one means of gaining political influence, yet the most effective way of creating prestige and ensuring a legacy was to embed oneself in public space by granting benefactions to cities and constructing person- alized funerary monuments.18 The boundaries of personal monumental expression were elastic and, in his building and political interactions, we see Herodes Atticus distinctively rivaling and imitating imperial behaviors, especially those of Hadrian.19 Generous public building, however, could also place one on shaky political ground. Although tyrannies should not have been possible within the empire, numerous examples exist of the language of tyranny being applied to prominent citizens. So a perception remained that an individual who came to dominate apolis,fiscally or politically, exposed himself to the potential accusation of tyrannical behavior, chiefly from political rivals.20 Herodes’ own grandfather had been condemned as a tyrant under Domitian (VS 548). Nigel Kennell has made the case that a genuine perception of Herodes as tyrannical existed in Athens.21 He has shown that an inscribed letter from Marcus Aurelius to the Athenians deals largely with Herodes and his relationship to the

15. See Whitmarsh 1999. 16. On Musonius’ cultural positioning in the Nero dialogue, see Whitmarsh 1999, 150–59. 17. See n. 1 above and, on Greek culture and Roman power, esp. Whitmarsh 1998; 2001, 2–4. 18. See Smith 1998, esp. 70–77, and Gleason 2010 on the fusion of diverse cultural features on Roman Greek monuments. For the nuances of elite euergetism, see Mitchell 1987. 19. For examples, see Tobin 1997, esp. 291–93; Gleason 2010; Arafat 1996, 191. Kemezis (2014, 213–14) argues that a figure like Herodes could only exist in a provincial center because Rome was the emperor’s city and one could never mark its cityscape in the same way. 20. For examples, see Kennell 1997, 351–55. See also Tobin 1997, 285–94; Dio Chrys. Or. 47. 21. Kennell 1997. Cf. Tobin 1997, 285–94. THE KING OF ATHENS 243 citizenry.22 As Kennell explains, “Marcus Aurelius’ main and indeed probably only motive in sending this letter was to settle suits involving Herodes ...and thus end the stasis that had racked Athens for so long.”23 Plutarch, in his Pre- cepts of Statecraft, warns that political stasis, which he defines as marked pri- marily by “ambition and contentiousness of the first citizens” (πλεονεξία καὶ φιλονεικία τω̃ν πρώτων, Prae. ger. reip. 815a), can lead to devastating forms of Roman intervention and should thus be avoided.24 The stasis referred to here is the conflict between Herodes and the demos that Philostratus mentions and that resulted in the assembly claiming that they lived under a tyranny before the Quintilii brothers, the then proconsuls (VS 559). Kennell convincingly argues that Marcus’ letter derives from the aftermath of Herodes’ resulting trial in Sirmium. Moreover, the letter’s focus on the social advancement of freedmen and their descendants is indicative of an Athenian belief in Herodes’ tyrannical aspirations: by flooding Athens’ institutions with his loyal freedmen, Herodes increased his political power.25 Nevertheless, imperial Greek authors such as Dio Chrysostom (Or. 47.23– 25), Lucian (Saturnalia 26; Cal. 13), and Athenaeus (5.54), among others, indicate that the line between kingship and tyranny was fine, especially in rhetoric, and two key elements defining both were displays of wealth and lavish building.26 In Philostratus’ account, Herodes is criticized in particular for his public building. Indeed, although Herodes was a prolific private as well as public builder, Philostratus mentions only his public benefactions, completely ignoring his private works except for statues of the τρόφιμοι (his foster sons), for which the Quintilii accuse him of extravagance (VS 559). Neglect of Herodes’ private construction is interesting, given that in imperial literature tyrants were often identi- fied by excessive private building, such as Nero and his golden house (Tac. Ann. 15.41–42) or Dio Chrysostom’s defense of his own lavish home (Or. 47.25). Philostratus’ silence may indicate a desire to highlight Herodes’ public generosity and the ambiguity in the nature of his hold over Athens: is it emperor-like, kingly, or tyrannical? Regardless, given local elite competition for political prestige and the subjectivity of the rhetorical line between tyranny and kingship, “tyrant” became a likely label for any wealthy elite with aspirations to dominion over a given city.27 Within the Lives of the Sophists, τύραννος and βασιλεύς are used in very specific ways. Of the eighty-three instances of βασιλεύς, it is applied eight times to the Persian king, once to the king of Bosphorus, twice to Herodes concerning his eloquence, and all seventy-two other times to a Roman emperor. In contrast, τύραννος is used once in Philostratus’ description of the rhetorical nature of the Second Sophistic (VS 481), once in an epideictic theme (VS 569), eight times to denote Dionysius of Syracuse (VS 499–500), twice in relation to Critias

22. Epigraphic Museum, Athens, inventory no. EM 13366. See SEG XXIX 127; Oliver 1970, 1–40; Jones 1971; Follet 1979; Ameling 1983, 182–205 no. 189; Tobin 1997, 41–47; Civiletti 2002, 591 nn. 98–99. 23. Kennell 1997, 349. 24. See Hogan 2017 for Pausanias’ attitude to stasis, with relevant bibliography. 25. Kennell 1997. See Civiletti 2002, 520 nn. 102–4, for Herodes’ prominent Athenian enemies. 26. See also Tobin 1997, 285–94; Kennell 1997, 353–54. 27. See Tobin 1997, 291, with Dio Chrys. Or. 47.25. 244 ESTELLE STRAZDINS

(VS 501–2), once for Athens’ 400 tyrants (VS 498), twice each for Domitian (VS 488) and Heliogabalus (VS 625), once for the charge against Herodes’ grandfather (VS 547), and finally once for the similar charge against Herodes (VS 559). So, in the Lives of the Sophists, τύραννος is far more flexible than βασιλεύς. Where βασιλεύς overwhelmingly denotes the office of emperor and is used pri- marily as a straightforward, if honorific, political designation (as in most imperial literature),28 τύραννος is loaded with moral judgment and applied to “bad” emperors, classical tyrants, or contemporary prominent provincial elites (who also happen to be part of Herodes’ family).29 Thus the text uses βασιλεύς to describe legitimate kingship and τύραννος those who transgress or abuse their accepted power roles. The section of Herodes’ life that describes the charge of tyranny clarifies the power relationship the text constructs between legitimate and illegitimate kingship. Philostratus explains: “when [the Quintilii] were both governing Greece, the Athenians invited them to a meeting of the assembly, and launched speeches that they were being tyrannized, meaning by Herodes; and finally begged that what they had said might be passed on to the emperor’s ears” (ὁ πότε ἄμφω τη̃ς Ἑλλάδος ἠ ρχέτην, καλέσαντες ἐςτὴν ἐκκλησίαν Ἀθηναιοι̃ φωνὰςἀ φη̃καν τυραννευομένων πρὸςτὸν Ἡρώδην ἀ ποσημαίνοντες καὶ δεόμενοι ἐπὶ πα̃σιν ἐςτὰ βασίλεια ὦτα παραπεμφθη̃ναι τὰ εἰρημένα, VS 559). Of interest here is the juxtaposition of βασιλεύς, referring to the emperor, with tyranny, referring to Herodes. Given the rhetorical landscape of the text, this opposition marks Herodes’ aspirations as an illegitimate abuse of power.30 Moreover, Herodes’ response, that the Quintilii were plotting against him and inciting the demos to attack him (VS 559), is very much that of a man concerned for his power over the city. Also of interest is the apparent contempt with which Philostratus reports the charge. The phrase φωνὰςἀ φη̃καν invokes the Athenians throwing their words at Herodes like petty missiles. This scene, however, also underscores the power imbalance between the demos and the sophist, since in the Lives of the Sophists no one, at least in Athens, has the verbal weaponry to match Herodes. Philostratus also introduces this episode merely to explain the bad blood between Herodes and the Quintilii, which would seem less important than the charge of tyranny itself.31 Philostratus goes on to say that Herodes blamed them for the disquiet of the demos and encouraging his political rivals (VS 559). So, Philostratus presents the charge as politically motivated and his portrait of the Athenians is not

28. See Mason 1974, 120–21, for the use of βασιλεύς in reference to the emperor. It is in literary use by the first century CE and begins to appear in inscriptions around the time of Hadrian; it is not used formally in inscriptions until the time of Gordian III. 29. Mestre and Gómez (2009, 101–4) describe the moral aspect of τύραννος in Dio Chrysostom and Lucian. Cf. Whitmarsh 1999, 144, and Dio Chrys. Or. 1.66–84, on the contemporary negativity of τύραννος. See Parker 1998, 145–72, for the evolution of the concept of τύραννος in classical times. He notes its negative associations are clearest in Athenian sources and suggests this is so because Athens became democratic so early. See Rosivach 1988 for the concept of the tyrant in classical Greece. Ferrill (1978) discusses τύραννος and βασιλεύς in Herodotus and wider classical literature. Tobin (1997, 286) notes that in the archaizing context of Roman Athens the notion of tyranny would recall classical tyrants, many of whom were known for their artistic patronage and building programs as much as their abuse of power. 30. Cf. Mestre and Gómez 2009, 101–4. 31. See Kuhn 2012 for Herodes, the Quintilii, and their parallel careers. THE KING OF ATHENS 245 overly sympathetic. He then relates that Herodes’ accusers, against whom he brought a counter-charge of conspiracy, escaped Athens to seek refuge and understanding from Marcus Aurelius, who is labeled δημοτικώτερος (VS 560). This word is regularly translated as “somewhat/unusually democratic,” but in context the straight comparative “more democratic” is also implied and the figure of contrast can only be Herodes. The characterization of Marcus Aurelius as more democratic than Athens’ leading citizen is striking, especially since Ath- ens was ever the champion of democracy and prided itself on having overthrown or resisted tyrannies in the past.32 In the context of classical tyrannies, on which Philostratus is undoubtedly playing, this usage of δημοτικώτερος renders Herodes less Athenian and more monarchical than the Roman emperor. This is the rhetorical force of the word, but in practice Philostratus is implying that Herodes’ accusers believed Marcus to be more impartial and open to the notional suffering of the Athenians, to the ideological position of Rome governing for the good of all and not just the elite, and to the argument that Rome’s authority ought not be usurped by a local citizen who had gained too much power. The idea of empire as democracy is key to Philostratus’ presentation of Herodes and is not an isolated instance, but recurs several times in the literature of the Second Sophistic, notably at Dio Cassius 52.14.3–5, through the contrasting advice of Agrippa and Maecenas to Augus- tus on how to shape his government, Aelius Aristides’ encomium To Rome 60, and most significantly in Philostratus again, but this time in his Life of Apollo- nius of Tyana, in which the hero advises Vespasian against abdication and res- toration of democracy, saying (VA 5.35.4):33 τὴνδὲ τω̃νἀ νθρώπων ἀ γέλην οὐ κἀ ξιω̃ φθείρεσθαι χήτει βουκόλου δικαίου τε καὶ σώφρονος. ὥσπερ γὰρεἱςα̃ ̓ ρετῇ προὔχων μεθίστησι τὴν δημοκρατίαν ἐςτὸ ἑ νὸςἀ νδρὸς του̃ ἀ ρίστου ἀ ρχὴν φαίνεσθαι, οὕτως ἡ ἑ νὸςἀ ρχὴ πάντα ἐςτὸ ξυμφέρον του̃ κοινου̃ προορω̃σα δη̃μός ἐστιν.

I do not think the human herd should perish for lack of a just and reasonable herdsman. For just as one man of exceptional virtue transforms democracy to make it appear the rule of one man better than the rest, so the rule of one man who is always looking out for the common good is a democracy.34 Both Philostratus’ Apollonius and Dio Cassius’ Maecenas stress in different ways that classical Athenian-style democracy would be anachronistic and dys- functional in the changed circumstances of the late Republic and early Empire.35

32. Parker 1998, 169. The word δημοτικώτερος is unusual, but appears in Aristotle and Isocrates in reference to the reforms of Cleisthenes in particular, and always in comparison to tyrants and tyrannical behaviors at Athens. See Arist. [Ath. Pol.] 22.1, 27.1, 41.2; Isoc. De pace 8.13, 8.108 and Areopagiticus 7.17, 7.23; Lys. For Polystratus 13. 33. See Starr 1952, esp. 13–16. Markov (2013) summarizes and evaluates various interpretations of the speeches in Dio Cass. 52. Espinosa (1987) argues Agrippa and Maecenas champion the same ideal: a combina- tion of δημοκρατία and μοναρχία, where δημοκρατία equals libertas. Kemezis (2014, 126–35, esp. 130–35) argues Maecenas’ speech is about an ideal system rather than ideal ruler and Dio is not interested in the monarch’s character; rather, Maecenas’ system is designed to function even with a “bad” ruler. 34. Translation after Jones (2005). 35. These texts play on the debate in Herodotus 3.80–83 on the best form of government (monarchy, oli- garchy, or democracy) with the conclusion that monarchy is best, if ruled by the best man who has the interests 246 ESTELLE STRAZDINS

Notably, Dio’s Maecenas seems to suggest that monarchic democracy should consist of a definite hierarchy that places individuals in their most effective positions according to their particular talents and socioeconomic station.36 This idea—that the rule of a virtuous man, who acts for the common good, is like democracy—well describes Marcus Aurelius in the Lives of the Sophists and contrasts sharply with its portrait of Herodes, whose political interventions and euergetism appear predominantly selfish, in that their primary aims are to in- crease his civic influence and preserve his and his family’s memory. It is precisely Marcus’ association with philosophy and Herodes’ lack of this virtue that colors their respective portrayals and interactions in the Lives of the Sophists, and it is no accident that, in the Life of Apollonius, Philostratus attributes the above words to a philosophical sage. Philostratus’ Herodes tries to dominate Athens in the artistic as well as political sphere. Oddly then, within the life of Herodes, Philostratus focuses very little on his oratory, devoting only a brief section at the very end to a description of his style.37 Yet it once more paints Herodes as both tyrannical and strongly tra- ditional. Philostratus says Herodes’ style was inseparable from Critias’ and that he acquainted the Greeks better with that orator, who had previously been neglected (VS 564).38 That Herodes chose to imitate the reportedly obscure Critias is typical of his textual representation (though this “obscurity” is clearly Philos- tratean hyperbole). In imitating Critias, rather than Demosthenes, for example, he demonstrates his own uniqueness, discerning taste, and vast classical knowledge. Synchronically, he strengthens Critias’ oratorical status by increasing his airplay through mimesis. Moreover, Critias himself was tyrannical, being a leading member of the Thirty Tyrants, and it is for this reason that Philostratus suggests the Greeks neglected him (VS 502). In depicting Critias, Philostratus calls him “the worst man among all who are notorious for wrongdoing” (κάκιστος ἀ νθρώπων ...ξυμπάντων, ὡ ̃ν ἐπὶ κακίᾳ ὄνομα, VS 501). Although he labels Critias a tyrant, he condemns him for aiding Sparta and brutality, not for over- throwing the democracy, which he stresses was already failing (VS 501). The use of προστήκομαι (“to cling to,”“to give oneself up to,” VS 564) to connect Herodes to Critias implies Philostratus may intend it to signify more than simply oratorical style.39 Directly after comparing Herodes to Critias, Philostratus notes that all Greece called him one of the Ten (referring to the canon of orators, from which Critias was absent). The mention of this group so close to Critias would readily highlight his membership of that other numbered group—the Thirty— and subtly damn Herodes by association. So, politically and in his emulation of Critias, Philostratus’ Herodes appears decidedly tyrannical, but in his governance of the sophistic sphere, as we will see, his role is presented quite differ- ently.

of all at heart. Such a monarchy, especially long term, is hard to sustain, as stressed by Otanes to his fellow Persians. 36. See Markov 2013, esp. 226–29. Cf. Plutarch’s description of Theseus’ democracy (Thes. 25.1–3). 37. Cf. Kemezis 2014, 208; Coté 2010. 38. One extant speech has been attributed tentatively to Herodes, but has also been identiﬁed as Critias’ work. See Wade-Gery 1945; Anderson 1986, 113; Civiletti 2002, 528 n. 140. 39. Cf. Breitenbach 2003. THE KING OF ATHENS 247

3. THE KING OF WORDS Philostratus sets Herodes up as the greatest of sophists while concurrently es- tablishing Athens as the center of sophistic activity. Indeed, he portrays Herodes as ruling the sophistic scene.40 Herodes is labeled ὁ βασιλεὺςτω̃ν λόγων (“the king of words,” VS 586) by Hadrian of Tyre and δεσπότην ...καὶ Ἑλλήνων γλω̃τταν καὶ λόγων βασιλέα (“the master and the tongue of the Greeks and king of words,” VS 598) by Rufus of Perinthus, both of whom were his students. This use of βασιλεύς is the only time it does not refer to a genuine king or the Roman emperor. Accordingly, when invoking Herodes’ sophistic activities, it transfers a sense of legitimacy to his artistic rule. In the text, Herodes’ negotiation of various situations within the Athenian sophistic scene validates this depiction, while his behavior beyond Attica before emperors undermines it. I will give two brief examples of interactions in Herodes’ Athens to highlight his sophistic rule: one involving Philagrus of Cilicia, who negotiates it poorly, and another Alexander the Clay Plato, who negotiates it well.41 Philagrus makes several mistakes on his visit to Athens.42 First, he tries to as- sert his authority over a group of Herodes’ students, who roam the city like some kind of sophistic gang (VS 578–79), but is instead treated with disrespect. Sec- ondly, angered by their failure to recognize him, he uses a word that Philostratus describes as ἔκφυλος (“outlandish”), that is, noncanonical and non-Attic. This particular error highlights how seriously Philostratus’ sophists take their classical Attic posturing. When challenged on his poor vocabulary choice, however, Philagrus counters by making a claim to canonicity: he says that he is the classic from which the ἔκφυλον ῥ η̃μα comes. This marks Philagrus out as someone who, through an inability to control his emotions, steps outside the faux-classical sophistic world and, while tarnishing his contemporary reputation, stakes a claim for future reputation. At the same time, it marks him as an outsider in the city, since ἔκφυλον could also be taken to indicate that he is not from one of the tribes or φυλαί of Athens.43 Following this incident, Philagrus writes demanding an apology from Herodes, who scolds him instead, saying, “you are not performing your prooemium well” (οὐ καλω̃ς προοιμιάζεσθαι, VS 579). Philostratus explains that Herodes means he has neglected to win his intended audience’s goodwill. Yet Philagrus fails to heed Herodes’ advice and his next performance is hijacked and ruined by Herodes’ pupils, since instead of improvising he tries to re-perform an old pub- lished speech, for which he had won acclaim. This breaks the rules of sophistic performance in Herodes’ Athens, in which improvisation and variation are cele- brated, and Philagrus is ridiculed. Philagrus’ failure can be viewed in two ways: ﬁrst, as an attempt to hoodwink his audience and falsely inﬂate his reputation for epideictic oratory; second, as a willful transgression planned both to invest his work with extra literary clout and promote written composition over spoken im-

40. Kemezis (2011, 8–10) stresses Herodes’ agency in transferring the center of sophistic culture from Ionia to Athens. 41. Kemezis (2011, 10–11) also contrasts Philagrus’ and Alexander’s experiences in Athens. 42. On Philagrus in Athens, see Eshleman 2012, 7–10; Kemezis 2011, 3–4, 11; Papalas 1979. 43. Whitmarsh 2005, 34. Cf. Eshleman 2012, 8–10, on Philagrus as an outsider. 248 ESTELLE STRAZDINS provisation. By reproducing an eminent performance, he treats his earlier epideictic speech as a kind of literature. In this episode, Philostratus’ sympathies ostensibly lie with Herodes and his students, but it is specifically Philagrus’ failure to negotiate Athens’ sophistic culture correctly that determines his position. Philagrus’ abilities are not at fault, but rather his failure to reveal them in the expected way and his foolish bid to challenge Herodes’ authority.44 Philostratus is critical of Philagrus’ epideictic faux pas but, at the same time, the act of writing the sophists and their lives essentially creates the canon of the Second Sophistic and, in the sense of employing written expression to invest one’s ideas with authority, Philostratus’ practice approaches that of Philagrus more so than Herodes.45 Yet concern for self-promotion is also what marks Herodes as transgressive and difficult in Philostratus’ biography. In- deed, the anecdote of Philagrus’ trip to Athens resembles Herodes’ experiences beyond Athens in the empire at large. Philagrus’ primary blunders are misjudg- ing his audience and inability to control his emotions before Herodes, Athens’ King of Words, a form of failure before mastery that Herodes ironically repeats before the emperors Hadrian and Marcus. Philagrus misfires a second time in Ath- ens when, overcome by emotion, he literally loses the ability to speak (ἐσβέσθη τὸ φθέγμα ὑ πὸ τη̃ςχολη̃ς, “his voice was stifled by his wrath,” VS 580). Yet, Philo- stratus notes, he was later named to the Chair of Rhetoric in Rome, the highest of such chairs and thus marking the level of respect he attained in that city, but in Herodes’ Athens he gained only infamy (VS 580). Alexander the Clay Plato, conversely, negotiates Athens and Herodes successfully (VS 571–73), but encounters difficulties in Rome (VS 571).46 In Ath- ens, after beginning his declamation before Herodes’ arrival, Alexander stops as soon as the great man appears to ask him whether he would like to hear the topic he is currently performing or another. Herodes defers to the members of the audience, who reply that they wish to hear the current theme again. Alexander, aware of the performance constructs of Herodes’ Athens, improvises an entirely new speech on the same topic by varying his vocabulary and rhythms (VS 572– 73). This anecdote shows how great Herodes’ sway over sophistry in Athens is and how democratic he can be in this sphere. It also reveals that Alexander rec- ognizes his subservient position in Athens and that he must acknowledge Her- odes’ supremacy to succeed. Alexander’s conduct in Rome, however, fails to impress Antoninus Pius. Rather than his deference to Herodes, halfway through his speech he demands unceremoniously that the emperor pay him more attention. The emperor responds, “I am paying attention ...and I do know you. You are the one who is ever arranging his hair, cleaning his teeth, polishing his nails,

44. Philostratus praises Philagrus’ abilities at VS 578. Kemezis (2011, 3–4) notes that, as well as the pressure of epideixis, the influence of factions, the centrality of Attic purity, and how the contemporary cultural milieu functioned, the Phrygian Philagrus’ life can be seen as demonstrating the “ongoing progression” of sophistic mastery from Ionia to Athens. Equally, although he sees the quarrel as orchestrated by Herodes and his students, Papalas (1979) argues its purpose is to reduce the influence of the Ephesian Lollianus, who was Philagrus’ teacher and who held the municipal chair of rhetoric in Athens. Cf. Kemezis 2011, 11. Eshleman (2012, 7–10) convincingly represents the episode as a contest over insider and outsider status, and the fluid divide between the two. 45. On Philostratus writing the canon of the Second Sophistic, see Eshleman 2008, 396; 2012, 125–27. 46. On Alexander in Athens, see Kemezis 2011, 10. THE KING OF ATHENS 249 and always smells of perfume” (προσέχω ...καὶ ξυνίημί σου· σὺ γὰρ ...ὁ τὴν κόμην ἀ σκω̃ν καὶ τοὺςὀ δόντας λαμπρύνων καὶ τοὺς ὄνυχας ξέων καὶ του̃ μύρου ἀ εὶ πνέων, VS 571). Antoninus’ dismissive focus on Alexander’s carefully constructed image rather than his rhetorical ability suggests he considers this sophist all show and no substance. The diverse experiences and behaviors of Philagrus and Alexander in Athens and Rome shed light on Herodes’ own oratorical per- formances, and accentuate that Athens and the empire are not the same fora and what stands in one will not in the other. In his life of Herodes Philostratus mentions specifically only two of the sophist’s speeches, both made before emperors far from Athens: one before Hadrian in his youth (VS 565) and the other before Marcus Aurelius in defense of the charge of tyranny (VS 561). In both, the greatest of orators fails and each abor- tive speech brackets the brief section in which Philostratus praises Herodes’ skill. This sandwiching of flattery between failures raises doubts over the sincer- ity of Philostratus’ praise and stresses the imperial circumstances of Herodes’ sophistic misadventures, to which I now turn.

4. ROMAN PHILOSOPHER,GREEK TYRANT Philostratus’ portrayal of Herodes’ failure before Marcus juxtaposes emperor and tyrant, philosopher and sophist. It makes Marcus Aurelius ﬁt the paradigm of Apollonius’“good shepherd” mentioned above and diminishes Herodes to resemble Philagrus in his excess emotion and unwise challenge to greater authority. At the trial, the sophist is upset over the chance death of two favored fe- male servants and takes this out on Marcus, berating him without any semblance of rhetorical disguise before storming out (VS 560–61). Indeed, Herodes’ dis- play of excess emotion, most often connected to death, is a recurring theme in the text and regularly exposes him to the ridicule of philosophers (VS 556– 57).47 On this occasion, Herodes slanders (καθίστατο ἐςδιαβολὰς) Marcus “with an aggressive and naked tongue” (ἀ πηγκωνισμένῃ τῇ γλώττῃ καὶ γυμνῇ, VS 561). Marcus, by contrast, is generous and gentle, and far from growing angry brings a penalty that he describes as being “as mild as possible” (κολάσει χρησάμενος ὡ ςοἱόν̃ τε ἐπιεικει)̃ to bear on Herodes’ freedmen rather than Herodes himself (VS 561). This reduces Herodes’ power base without punishing him directly. He also writes to Herodes after the trial to allay the Athenian’s fears that he holds a grudge and requests Herodes initiate him into the mysteries when he is next in Athens (VS 562–63). Raising Herodes’ role as priest of Eleusis allows Marcus to legitimate Herodes’ prestige in Athens, without promoting his apparent tyrannical tendencies. Philostratus calls this letter Marcus’ ἀ πολογία and both φιλάνθρωπος and ἐρρωμένη (“kindly” and “powerful”/“formidable,” VS 563). Φιλανθρωπία is a common imperial virtue that is championed by Dio Chrysostom in his kingship Orations (e.g., 1.6, 1.18, 1.20).48 The participle ἐρρωμένη is odd, however, given Philostratus’ stress on the mildness of Marcus’ discourse and disposition. Perhaps, then, Philostratus intends a pun on the Greek word for “Rome,” Ῥώμη, which also

47. See also Lucian Demonax 24 and 33, with Cataplus and Mestre and Gómez (2009), who connect Herodes’ reputation for excessive grief with his supposed tyranny. See also Gell. 19.12. 48. On Dio Chrys. Or. 1–4, see Whitmarsh 2001, 200–216; 2005, 60–63. 250 ESTELLE STRAZDINS means “strength” or “might,” andassuchemphasizesthatMarcus’ philanthropic and philosophical reaction comes from a position of Roman power. Herodes’ cor- respondence, however, is described as containing “not a defense, but an accusation” (οὐ κἀ πολογίαν ...ἀ λλ’ ἔγκλημα, VS 562). Notably this letter comes from Athens, Herodes’ sophistic capital, and its contents stress his inability to play an appropriate imperial (i.e., political) role. Philostratus is regularly seen as excusing or defending Herodes in this episode by foregrounding the effect of his grief and showing that no lasting ill will existed between Marcus and the sophist. Marcus’ restraint and philosophic nature, however, is what preserves their bond. Also, once the reader reaches the life of Philagrus, s/he would be struck by how Herodes’ belligerent conduct before Marcus’ imperial authority mirrors Philagrus’ before Herodes’ sophistic rule. Marcus does not admonish Herodes, however, as Herodes did Philagrus; instead he apologizes graciously and gently defines Herodes’ sphere of influence by rec- ognizing his relative importance within Athens’ confines. Herodes’ presumptu- ous conduct is emphasized by Marcus’ wry command to the complainants in the case, which Philostratus marks as an exemplary philosophical moment: “Make your defense, Athenians, though Herodes does not allow it” (ἀ πολογεισθε̃ ...ὦ Ἀθηναιοι̃ , εἰ καὶ μὴ ξυγχωρει̃Ἡρώδης, VS 561). This highlights Herodes’ imagined position over the Athenians and his actual place beneath the emperor. So, despite Philostratus inserting praise of Herodes’ oratorical skills and mentioning others’ compliments, when Herodes does speak in the Lives, he is less the “King of Words” and more a slave to his own emotions, just as Philagrus appeared to him in Athens. It is damning that Marcus is moved to tears by the rhetoric of Herodes’ opponents rather than Herodes himself. In contrast, Marcus is praised by Philostratus as behaving ever in a manner worthy of a philosopher (VS 561). He fails to lose his temper and defuses the situation in a way that is acceptable to both the demos and Herodes, and that restores the correct imperial hierarchy. The relationship between Marcus and Herodes inverts the paradigm of the philosopher and the king described above. Normally, the philosopher wisely counsels or challenges the ruler, whose philosophic virtue or tyrannical nature is revealed in whether or not he follows the sage’s advice.49 And, it should be a Greek philosopher advising a Roman emperor.50 In Philostratus’ Life of Apol- lonius, for instance, the sage’s Greekness is as important as his wisdom. This is revealed in how he is announced on arrival in India: as “a wise man, a Greek, and a good counselor” (σοφός τε καὶ Ἕλλην καὶ ξύμβουλος ἀ γαθός, VA 1.28). Moreover, for the relationship to be successful, the ruler must have a good nature and be willing to listen (Dio Chrys. Or. 1.8); and, as well as dispensing advice, the philosopher is best revealed through his opposition to tyranny (VA 7.1–3). With this in mind, Marcus’ meeting with Herodes at his trial becomes laced with a complex set of meanings. Ostensibly, the roles are clear: Herodes is an

49. Flinterman 1995, 162–92; Whitmarsh 1999, 145. Kemezis (2014, 219) notes that Philostratus’ Apollo- nius could oppose tyranny only because of a moment of crisis in the empire, which does not exist during the Antonine years that form the backdrop to the Lives of the Sophists. 50. Flinterman 1995, 173; Rawson 1989, 235; Whitmarsh 1998. See König 2014 on the spectrum of possible interactions between Greek and Roman elites in Philostratus’ VS, esp. 252–58 on sophists, emperors, and the slight dissonance in all their interactions. Cf. Swain 1996, 396–400. THE KING OF ATHENS 251 elite Greek intellectual and Marcus is the Roman emperor. Philostratus never labels Herodes a philosopher, unlike Favorinus or Dio Chrysostom, for example, whom he says were philosophers but called sophists because of their eloquence (VS 484). Indeed, he is regularly corrected or admonished by philosophers, including Peregrinus Proteus (VS 563–64), Sextus the Boeotian (VS 558), and a certain Lucius (VS 556–57), the latter two of whom ridicule Herodes’ outra- geous grief.51 At the trial, too, Marcus plays the role of a philosopher trying to correct an errant “ruler” in Herodes and free Athens from his perceived tyranny. Marcus is Philostratus’ most philosophical emperor but, as Jason König has shown by analysis of the mockery he suffers at the hands of the same Lucius, who teases him over his desire to learn Greek wisdom (VS 557), even he cannot manage to engage on equal cultural terms with a Greek pepaideumenos nor can he escape his superior social and political station.52 Perhaps this explains ἐρρωμένη above: this seeming philosopher-king, who saves the Greek pepaideumenos Herodes from himself and instructs him on how best to govern, is in reality the Roman emperor. Thus the accepted wisdom of the relationship between Greek knowledge and Roman power is turned on its head. This is especially striking given that in the life of Theodotus, which follows that of Herodes, Philostratus claims that Marcus gave Herodes the task of selecting the inaugural chairs of philosophy at Athens, while he himself chose the chair of rhetoric (VS 566–67). This detail underscores the topsy-turvy nature of the sophist and emperor’s relationship.53 Additionally, Marcus’ choice, Theodotus, spoke against Herodes at his trial. Thus Marcus’ intervention alters the dynamic, at least symbolically, of Athens’ sophistic and political scene. Harry Sidebottom has argued that imperial sophists and philosophers, especially in the Lives of the Sophists, are delineated not by education or knowledge, but by outward signs such as physical aesthetic (clothes, expression, grooming) and how they communicate (gestures, tone, speaking style).54 It is in similar symbolic, representational terms that Herodes comes to appear tyrannical and Marcus philosophical in the text. Philostratus exploits the stereotypes of “sophist,”“philosopher,”“tyrant,” and “king” for their rhetorical potency. His manipulation of these categories serves to upset expectations about his protagonists and highlight the in fact quite rigid power relationships between the emperor and his provincial subjects, no matter how wealthy, ambitious, or cul- tured: Herodes’ role as ruler of the sophistic scene in Athens is shown to be limited absolutely to a local cultural anomaly. Herodes’ recklessness before Marcus’ authority is one aspect of his behavior that could be considered reminiscent of a philosopher’s fearlessness before a ty-

51. In this case, it is grief at the death of his wife, Regilla. Her apparent murder places Herodes in tyrannical company, since she died in premature childbirth after a beating. Similar stories were told of Nero, Cambyses, and Periander. See Ameling 1986, 507–8; Pomeroy 2007, 121–23. 52. König 2014, 254–55. 53. On this episode, see Civiletti 2002, 535 nn. 8–9. 54. Sidebottom 2009, 72–87. Lauwers (2013) concludes the apparent divide between sophistry and philosophy in imperial times was really only a concern for someone who claimed to be a philosopher. Bowersock (2002) sees the categories as more of a continuum and the circumstances of the second century as bringing the two categories closer together. See also Brancacci 1986. 252 ESTELLE STRAZDINS rant.55 Yet, although he is willing to face death by speaking his mind (VS 561), Philostratus says it is his (very unphilosophical) emotions that drive this temer- ity. Thus his careless audacity and excess emotion should rather be seen as peculiar to yet another stock rhetorical ﬁgure: the hero. Indeed, Herodes’ uncon- trollable grief and habit of stepping outside the social norm because of it are two of his most persistent qualities.56 Thus in the Sirmium episode both Herodes and Marcus play unexpected roles, with Marcus assuming less the guise of a judge and more that of a philosophical mentor and Herodes resembling both a ruler, who must be taught how best to rule, and a hero, whose personal expression is not governed by the same rules as society at large. Herodes’ other oratorical failure before an emperor is a tale of youthful inex- perience. Even so, Philostratus uses it to introduce one of his sophists’ primary concerns: the potential mortality has to affect one’s reputation. Philostratus describes an aborted speech before Hadrian in Pannonia (VS 565) directly after his praise of Herodes’ rhetorical skills (VS 563–65) and just prior to his relation of the sophist’s death and burial (VS 565–66). Philostratus says “words failed [Herodes]” (λόγου τινός ...ἐκπεσειν̃ , VS 565), comparing this to Demosthenes failing before Philip, though Demosthenes still expected acclaim whereas Her- odes wished to die. Philostratus explains Herodes’ suicidal impulse by noting that his desire for fame as a rhetor was so potent that “he assessed the penalty of failure at death” (ὡ ς θανάτου τιμα̃σθαι τὸ σφαλη̃ναι, VS 565). Strikingly, Philostratus turns immediately from this wished-for death to Herodes’ actual death. The reader cannot help but connect the two and conclude that, for an orator, silence may as well be death. Moreover, Philostratus has just linked death with failure; in context, that failure seems to be an end to control over one’s reputation and commemoration. Thus it is ﬁtting that Philostratus’ account of Her- odes’ death has him once more playing a series of rhetorical roles.

5. HERO-KING OR TYRANT?HERODES AND THESEUS Herodes’ burial alludes to the sophist as both kingly and heroic. It also reveals some surprising elements, given Philostratus’ focus on the ill-relations between the demos and sophist (VS 565–66): Ἐτελεύτα μὲνοὖνἀ μφὶ τὰ ἓξ καὶ ἑ βδομήκοντα ξυντακὴς γενόμενος. ἀ ποθανόντος δὲ αὐ του̃ ἐντῳ ̃ Μαραθω̃νι καὶ ἐπισκήψαντος τοιςα̃ ̓ πελευθέροις ἐκει̃ θάπτειν, Ἀθηναιοι̃ ταιςτω̃ ̃ν ἐφήβων χερσινὰ ̔ ρπάσαντες ἐς ἄστυ ἤνεγκαν προαπαντω̃ντες τῳ ̃ λέχει πα̃σα ἡ λικία δακρύοις ἅμα καὶ ἀ νευφημου̃ντες, ὅσα παιδες̃ χρηστου̃ πατρὸς χηρεύσαντες.

He died at the age of about seventy-six of a wasting sickness. And although he passed away at Marathon and had commanded his freedmen to bury him there, the Athenians, having snatched him away by the hands of the ephebes, bore him into the city, and every age came out to meet the bier with tears and wailing, as would sons who were bereft of a worthy father. Joseph Rife has covered this episode from a rigorously historical perspective. In what follows, I will approach it from a textual, literary one. From the above passage we can see that Philostratus’ Herodes was only accepted in Athens after his

55. See Flinterman 2004, 361–64. 56. On the quality of Herodes’ grief, see Gleason 2010, 156–62. THE KING OF ATHENS 253 death and the Athenians take control of his commemoration against his express wishes. In its spontaneity, processional nature, involvement of the entire demos, and the use of the verb προαπαντάω (“go out to meet”), this scene recalls an inscription (IG II2 3606) found in the village of Bey (near Marathon) which records Herodes’ return from the Sirmium trial in elegiacs as a triumphant en- trance greeted by all Athens.57 One cannot determine if Philostratus knew the inscription or if its content reﬂects a genuine occurrence, but if he did, here he perverts Herodes’ poem of heroic triumph to stress his mortality.58 In keeping with a tyrannical or kingly Herodes, the procession evoked in the Bey inscription resembles similar processions and ἀ παντήσεις ceremonies for Roman governors or Hellenistic kings, such as Polybius’ description of Attalus I’s entry into Athens (Polyb. 16.25), or the adventus ritual for the arrival of an emperor.59 Thus it may be that Herodes conceived of and, in the Bey text, actively promoted himself as kingly after the fashion of Hellenistic rulers or as equal to the emperor (at least in Athens), a possibility that enhances the subversive effect of Philos- tratus’ funeral scene.60 Notably, Philostratus mentions no such spontaneous welcome after the Sirmium trial. The removal of Herodes’ body from Marathon and its transference to Athens also recalls a monarch from Athens’ legendary past in Theseus. This hero has two homecomings: the ﬁrst mythic, following his triumph over the Minotaur, when his failure to change his sails from black to white inadvertently led to his father Aegeus’ death (Plut. Thes. 22.1–6); the second literal, when on the Delphic oracle’s advice, Cimon brought what he claimed to be Theseus’ bones back from Scyros (Plut. Thes. 36; Cim. 8.5–6; Thuc. 1.98.2). Plutarch records the event as follows (Plut. Thes. 36.2): εὑ ρέθη δὲ θήκη τε μεγάλου σώματος αἰχμή τε παρακειμένη χαλκη̃ καὶ ξίφος. κομισθέντων δὲ τούτων ὑ πὸ Κίμωνος ἐπὶ τη̃ς τριήρους, ἡ σθέντες οἱ Ἀθηναιοι̃ πομπαις̃ τε λαμπραις̃ ἐδέξαντο καὶ θυσίαις ὥσπερ αὐ τὸν ἐπανερχόμενον εἰςτὸ ἄστυ. καὶ κειται̃ μὲν ἐν μέσῃ τῇ πόλει παρὰ τὸ νυ̃ν γυμνάσιον.

There a cofﬁn was found of a man of extraordinary size, a bronze spear lying by its side, and a sword. When these relics were brought home on his trireme by Cimon, the Athenians were delighted, and received them with splendid processions and sacriﬁces, as though Theseus himself were returning to the city. And now he lies in the middle of the city, by the present gymnasium.61

57. Ameling 1983, 205–11 n. 190; Tobin 1997, 272–75; Skenteri 2005, 86–110. Rife (2008, 100–101) connects the Bey inscription and Herodes’ funeral by noting the funeral bears attributes of an ἀ πάντησις ceremony. See Rife 2009 for further Philostratean deaths and elite funerary practices. 58. See Skenteri 2005, 108–10, for Herodes as the likely author of the poem. 59. See also Polyb. 30.25–26; Ath. 5.196a–203e; Skenteri 2005, 95–103; Kuhn 2012, 449; Robert 1987, 470–74; Rife 2008, 101–2 and 101 n. 60. 60. Veyne (1990, 125) claims this kind of procession was usual for benefactors and not just kings or governors; however, he cites no primary evidence in support. Cf. Tobin 1997, 275 n. 95. See Pont 2008 for the ritual welcome given to governors; see Robert 1987, 470–74 and Rife 2008, 101 n. 60, for more literary examples of such communal welcomes. 61. Translation after Perrin (1914). Thucydides mentions Cimon’s expedition to Scyros, but not Theseus’ bones. See Podlecki 1971, 141–43, on Cimon’s motivations, and Walker 1995, 55–64, on Cimon and Theseus in general. 254 ESTELLE STRAZDINS

One parallel between Theseus’ and Herodes’ interments that is not obvious from the passages is that Theseus had gone into exile on Scyros (Paus. 1.17.5–6) and, although Philostratus denies it, Herodes was rumored to have been exiled as well for a time after his trial to Oricum in Epirus (VS 562). A kind of exile is also alluded to in Marcus Aurelius’ letter to the Athenians in the claim his pronounce- ments are designed to enable Herodes to take his rightful place among them again in the future (EM 13366 ll. 87–94). That Cimon retrieves Theseus’ bones is important, since a family connection exists between Cimon, Miltiades, and Herodes, as well as a shared association with Marathon. Moreover, Cimon and Miltiades, of whom Philostratus says Herodes was proud, were both tyrannical ﬁgures (VS 546–47). Cimon himself died far from Athens and his remains were also later repatriated (Plut. Cim. 19.1–4).62 Theseus’ link to Marathon was equally strong through his capture of the Marathonian bull (Paus. 1.27.10) and the legend that his apparition appeared to the Athenians before the battle of Marathon and charged against the enemy in front of them (Plut. Thes. 35.8; Paus. 1.15.3). Pau- sanias even directly connects the victory at Marathon to Cimon’s retrieval of The- seus’ bones with the implication of gratitude for the hero’s aid (1.17.6). Herodes’ attachment to Marathon was so strong that he wished to be buried there. Yet, like Theseus before him, he was instead interred in Athens, above one of his benefactions to the city (VS 566): ἔθαψαν ἐντῳ ̃ Παναθηναικῳ ̃ ἐπιγράψαντες αὐ τῳ ̃ βραχὺ καὶ πολὺ ἐπίγραμμα τόδεÁ

Ἀττικου̃ Ἡρώδης Μαραθώνιος, οὗ τάδε πάντα, κειται̃ τῳ ̃δε τάφῳ , πάντοθεν εὐ δόκιμος τοσαυ̃τα περὶ Ἡρώδου του̃ Ἀθηναίου, τὰ μὲνεἰρημένα, τὰ δὲ ἠ γνοημένα ἑ τέροις.

They buried him in the Panathenaic [stadium], inscribing over him this brief and great epigram: “Herodes, son of Atticus, of Marathon, to whom all this belongs, lies here in this grave, his good fame is everywhere.” That is all I have to say about Herodes the Athenian; part of it has been told by others, but part was unknown. Above is the translation of Herodes’ epitaph championed by Rife; there are, however, two ways to read this inscription. If the comma after πάντα is removed, which is how most modern editions print the text, it reads: “Herodes, son of Atticus, of Marathon, of whom all that remains lies in this tomb, his good fame is everywhere.”63 In this rendering οὗ τάδε πάντα connects nicely to the idea of Theseus’ (and Cimon’s) bones returned to Athens. Rife, however, sets forth a good case for keeping the comma, including that the main clause lacks a verb, if κειται̃ τῳ ̃δε τάφῳ becomes part of the relative clause. He also notes that, although κειται̃ τῳ ̃δε τάφῳ is unique in surviving Greek poetry, its common sub-

62. See Shapiro 1992, esp. 48–49. 63. This is how it appears in Kayser 1838. See Rife 2008, 112–13, on the translation. THE KING OF ATHENS 255 stitute ἐνθάδε κειται̃ is always in the main clause.64 If the comma is retained and οὗ τάδε πάντα is taken to mean “to whom all this belongs,” the epitaph becomes more interesting rhetorically. If this reading was intended by Philostratus, it mocks the notion that one’s memory can be preserved the way one desires, since it could be read to suggest that the epitaph was intended for the environs of Herodes’ Marathonian estate and Philostratus wants us to think that perhaps it too was transferred to Athens along with the body. Moreover, how Philostratus reports it plays with Herodes’ ambitions to dominate Athens while still living. The inscription identifies Herodes as belonging to Marathon (Μαραθώνιος), which is immediately countered by Philostratus’ description of him as Athenian (Ἡρώδου του̃ Ἀθηναίου). Although the deme of Marathon is inextricable from Athens proper, in Philostratus’ life of Herodes a tension and opposition is created between the two locales through the Athenian demos’ hostility to Herodes and Herodes’ powerful and pointed connection to the deme. When Philostratus denies Herodes’ post-Sirmium exile, he places him instead on his private estates at Cephisia and Marathon (VS 562). If one follows the Thesean paradigm precisely, Marathon then becomes Herodes’ location of exile. In part the division is temporal, in that Herodes’ affinity to Marathon is also symbolic of a bond to Athens’ glorious past, which his contemporary Athenians fail to emulate except, perhaps, in Herodes’ sophistic scene. Marathon is also from where Herodes must be recalled with his students, referred to as his “Greeks” (Ἕλληνες, VS 571), by Alexander the Clay Plato before he is willing to speak in Athens. Thus Philos- tratus’ constructed opposition between Marathon and Athens parallels his alter- nate realities of a sophistic Athens, over which Herodes rules supreme, and an imperial Athens, in which Herodes abuses his social and political position. Philostratus’ reidentification of Herodes in the epitaph is thus jarring for two reasons: first, Herodes’ express wish to be buried at Marathon, a task entrusted to his freedmen; secondly, the prior scene of his corpse being welcomed into the city versus Herodes’ poem of triumphant return after Sirmium, which was inscribed at Marathon and may or may not have been invented, but was surely ex- aggerated given the tensions in the city before the trial.65 The juxtaposition of the demos and Herodes’ freedmen only heightens the effect. Moreover, the phrase οὗ τάδε πάντα (“to whom all this belongs”) claims that the dead Herodes owns the stadium, but also beyond that and in the context of Philostratus’ text his Athenian surrounds, a notion that ridicules his political ambitions while still living and that again highlights his lack of acceptance within the city. The second reading, “of whom all that remains,” merely enhances the effect since the epitaph’s inherent ambiguity would probably have suggested both meanings to ed- ucated readers: far from owning his surrounds, Herodes is rather an entombed pile of bones within them. Further, the phrase reinforces the case for Philostratus presenting the epitaph as potentially intended for a Marathonian burial, since much of the area around Marathon did belong to Herodes. As noted by Rife, οὗ τάδε πάντα is also an al-

64. Rife 2008, 112. 65. Kuhn (2012, 449) accepts the poem as accurate and as evidence that the Athenians took note of Marcus Aurelius’ exhortation to receive Herodes back with open arms (EM 13366, lines 92–94). 256 ESTELLE STRAZDINS lusion to a much-quoted fragment of Antimachus on Nemesis, whose cult at Rhamnous was patronized by Herodes and his foster son Polydeukion: ἔστι δέ τις Νέμεσις μεγάλη θεό ς, ἣ τάδε πάντα / πρὸς μακάρων ἔλαχεν (“There is a great goddess Nemesis, who has obtained all these things from the blessed ones,” Strabo 13.1.13), where τάδε πάντα signifies a region.66 The allusion binds Herodes and his epitaph to the area around Marathon and alienates him further from the city, especially given the link between Nemesis’ cult statue, which is inseparable from the goddess herself, and the battle of Marathon. Pausanias explains that the marble from which it was carved was brought to the battle by the Persians and intended for a victory monument, but was repurposed after Nemesis fell on them at Marathon (1.33.2–3). With this reading, the words πάντοθεν εὐ δόκιμος (“his good fame is everywhere”) must be seen as ironic in an Athenian context, since Philostratus’ text has consistently demonstrated that Herodes’ reputation was mixed within that city’s confines. Yet, in the end, it is the Athenians who dominate Herodes rather than the other way round. In fact, the whole scenario sees Philostratus granting the demos ultimate revenge for Herodes’ apparent tyranny: his trusted freedmen, whom the demos detested, prove ineffectual and his final wishes for his burial and commemoration are usurped. Although one could counter that Herodes’ strongly stated desire for a Marathonian burial and the postmortem actions of the Athenians in fact have a semblance of recusatio imperii about them, this argument does not hold water. Certainly, receiving an Athenian burial should be considered an honor that would please its recipient despite any protests and it fits the Thesean paradigm, since that hero too was belatedly honored by the demos. Had Philostratus presented Herodes as beloved at Athens, recusatio imperii would be a valid interpretation. As it is, however, Philostratus’ Athenians do not appreciate Herodes’ dominance of their city and the stadium site is not even technically in Athens, as is usual for an honorific burial, in that it is beyond the walls of both Theseus’ and Hadrian’s cities. Thus he lies close to Athens, but remains excluded. Further circumstances make Philostratus’ description of Herodes’ burial in- triguing. A reused sarcophagus, which may have originally belonged to Herodes, was discovered in 1904 above the eastern side of the stadium.67 Herodes died in the late 170s and the burial within the sarcophagus dates from after 250 CE.68 The best reasons for associating this sarcophagus with Herodes are Philostratus’ funeral narrative and the inscribed altar (IG II2 6791) dedicated to “the hero of Mar- athon” ([[...]] F ἕρωϊ F τω̃ι F Μαραθωνίωι F [[...]]) by parties unknown that was used as spolia built into a wall of the chamber surrounding the reused sarcophagus.69 The presence of the altar does not indicate Herodes was definitively buried

66. Rife 2008, 113. Matthews (1996, 313–21, esp. 319) argues τάδε πάντα in Antimachus means “everything here on earth,” but cites Wyss (1936), who felt it referred to a specific region. 67. For the initial excavation of the sarcophagus, see Skias 1905. 68. Rife 2008, 104–7, with bibliography. Cf. Tobin (1993, 83–84), who believes the sarcophagus was unlikely to have belonged to Herodes, because most examples of its type date to the third century. Rife, however, argues on stylistic grounds that it dates to the last quarter of the second century and may have originally been Herodes’. The dating of the secondary burial is based on a coin of Decius (249–51 CE) that was found in the skeleton’s mouth. See also Galli 2002, 20–21. 69. See Rife 2008, 105–6; Ameling 1983, 212–13 no. 193; Tobin 1997, 181–83. THE KING OF ATHENS 257 here, since hero cults do not need to be connected to a tomb; often a locale strongly associated with the “hero” would suffice. What it does reveal is that at least some faction at Athens conceived of Herodes as heroic at some point, so that, like the sophist’s apparent material emulation of Theseus, the notion is not invented by Philostratus, but rather something he chooses to emphasize. Identifying Herodes as the hero of Marathon might also be a nod to Theseus, given the hero’sreported role in the Battle of Marathon. Importantly, both dedicator and dedicatee have been obliterated in what must be seen as a form of damnatio memoriae,70 which is fitting with Herodes’ apparent tyrannical aspirations and the demos’ apparent resentment. This antipathy is also clear in Philostratus’ Lives while Herodes lives, but seems to evaporate upon his death. The vandalized altar belies Philostratus’ version or, at least, reveals that the animosity returned at some point following the elaborate funeral or that those who resented Herodes outweighed those who worshipped him. This idea is supported by the altar being a private dedication since the erasure of ὁ δη̃μος as dedicator would be unparalleled.71 A reused, unfinished sarcophagus of uncertain date and an altar associated with hero cult help Rife build a strong circumstantial case for the accuracy of Philostratus’ account of Herodes’ burial;72 nevertheless, it is possible that Her- odes was not buried at the Panathenaic stadium at all and this tradition was invented by our author. Philostratus is a sophisticated writer who has a tendency to fictionalize in order to enhance his narrative purpose and his production of anecdotal history in the Lives of the Sophists should not be accepted as completely reliable.73 So, this final option is not beyond the realms of possibility, however unlikely, and the Panathenaic stadium is a nice complement to the gymnasium of Ptolemy where Theseus’ bones were supposedly interred (Plut. Thes. 36.2). Rhetorically, the burial passage sees Herodes alienated from his beloved Mara- thon and installed in Athens, which, if reminiscent of Theseus’ similar return, inverts the notion of exile, in that Herodes, who is labeled Μαραθώνιος in his epitaph, is claimed as Ἀθηναιος̃ by Philostratus, who in this case has the last word. So, Herodes is, in a way, exiled to (near) Athens from Marathon, whereas Theseus’ remains are repatriated from their place of exile to Athens. If indeed he was buried at the stadium, all that now remains of Herodes and his grave is Philostratus’ epigram, which given its Marathonian focus may have been invented by the author to stress Herodes’ eternal displacement;74 if genuine, it may not have been intended for Athens or, at least, Philostratus’ narrative encourages reading it as implying Herodes’ dislocation.

70. Rife 2008, 118–20. 71. See Rife 2008, 105–6. 72. Rife (2008) argues Herodes’ tomb is the long rectangular structure above the stadium’s east side, of which only a few foundation blocks remain. Tobin (1997, 177–85), less convincingly, believes the structure was made to hold the Panathenaic ship and Herodes was buried beneath the race track. 73. Bowie (1994, 181) notes that, although “non-ﬁction” is dominant in the VS,it“is often thick with an- ecdotes in which it is hard to know what is drawn from reliable tradition and what from the moulding of Philostratus’ imagination.” Swain (1991) argues that the VS is as reliable as an account based on oral sources can be. Swain’s position denies Philostratus’ literary agency. Schmitz (2009) sees the narrator of Philostratus’ VS as designed to project authority and a sense of non-ﬁction; see esp. p. 68 for the text as deliberately unstable, sophistic, and bewildering. See Kemezis 2011 for the VS as a literary text with an overall structure and purpose. 74. Rife (2008, 112) says it is genuine, since οὗ τάδε πάντα appears in a late-second- or third-century epitaph (IG II2 13161) that he believes was copied from Herodes’. This is possible, but not certain. 258 ESTELLE STRAZDINS

Another curious element in Herodes’ burial is the location itself. Within Philostratus’ text, the Panathenaic stadium is the source of initial tensions between Herodes and the demos (VS 548–49) and, consequently, it would seem an odd place for the demos to choose for his tomb. According to Philostratus, the stadium’s construction emerged from a dispute between Herodes and the citizens of Athens over his father’s will. Atticus had bequeathed a mina annually to all citizens. Herodes balked at this arrangement and offered five minae as a one- off payment instead. When they came to collect the money, however, Herodes demanded payment for all the debts incurred to his family, so that very few received any money at all and many found themselves in debt anew (VS 549). Philostratus claims this created a ground swell of resentment among the Athenians. As he describes it, “they never stopped hating him, not even when he thought he was creating the greatest benefits for them” (οὐ κ ἐπαύσαντο μισου̃ντες, οὐ δὲ ὁ πότε τὰ μέγιστα εὐ εργετειν̃ ᾤετο, VS 549) and the Athenians “in fact declared the Panathenaic stadium well named, for [Herodes] had built it with money of which all Athenians were being robbed” (τὸ οὖν στάδιον ἔφασαν εὖἐπωνομάσθαι Παναθηναїκόν, κατεσκευάσθαι γὰραὐ τὸ ἐξὡ ̃νἀ πεστερου̃ντο Ἀθηναιοι̃ πάντες, VS 549). Herodes did not deprive the Athenians to hoard his money, but rather to use it in a way that would give him a lasting presence in the city. Moreover, his refusal to honor Atticus’ will maintained his fiscal control over Athens, since the annual grant would certainly have empowered the aver- age citizen while simultaneously weakening Herodes.75 Herodes decides to build the stadium when offered charge of the Panathenaic festival and inaugurates it at that festival four years later (VS 550). With this move, Herodes claims the festival as his own, especially given that Hadrian had only recently promoted it to sacred iselastic status.76 In this, another connection is made between Herodes and Theseus, in that Plutarch relates how the Athenian hero founded the festival (Plut. Thes. 24.3). Immediately following the decision to build the stadium, Philostratus mentions Herodes’ intervention to change the Athenian ephebes’ cloaks from black to white (VS 550). Although according to an inscription from Eleusis (IG II2 2090) the innovation dates from 165/6, Philostratus’ narrative leads one to believe it is connected with the Pa- nathenaea of 143/4.77 Herodes’ substitution recalls Theseus’ failure to do the same with his ship’s sails and “undoes” the mourning for either Aegeus (according to the Bey inscription IG II2 3606, 19–23) or the more usual Copreus (Philostr. VS 550; Hom. Il. 15.639) that the black cloaks signified.78 Philostratus notes the black mourning cloaks had been worn in festal processions, an obser- vation highlighting that during Herodes’ funeral the ephebes bearing the body would have been clad in the new white cloaks of celebration. As I suggested previously, Herodes seems to have instigated his own material program to associate himself with Theseus, which is again demonstrated in the Bey inscription’s identification of the ephebes’ black cloaks with Aegeus rather than Copreus. Although Philostratus embraces the idea via a game of literary al-

75. Cf. Tobin 1997, 27–29, 163–65. 76. Boatwright 2000, 100; see also Muñiz Grijalvo 2005, 264. 77. For other such changes to mourning dress, see Plut. Arat. 53; Paus. 2.3.6; Philostr. Her. 740. 78. See Skenteri 2005, 99–100, on the two interpretations. THE KING OF ATHENS 259 lusion, it is rather Herodes as a failed Theseus that appears to be the thrust of his presentation. This notion is important given the limited political potential of elite Greeks in the empire. Theseus was considered responsible for the synoecism of the Athenians (Paus. 1.22.3) and, although he began as a monarchic ﬁgure, he came to possess a democratic reputation.79 His two identities—heroic king and father of democracy—existed contiguously. Euripides’ Suppliants 352–53 is the ﬁrst clear expression of this apparent paradox, when Theseus the king says the following of the demos: καὶ γὰρ κατέστησ᾽ αὐ τὸν ἐς μοναρχίαν / ἐλευθερώσας τήνδ᾽ ἰσόψηφον πόλιν (“for I put them in charge / when I set this city free, all now with an equal vote”). According to Plutarch, Theseus gathered all the people of Attica into the city. The common folk came willingly, but he enticed the nobles by promising to lay down his absolute rule and institute a kind of democracy, in which he would command in war and be the guardian of laws (Thes. 24.1– 2). At this point he founded the Panathenaic festival. Nevertheless, Plutarch later reports that his monarchic democracy failed, since (Thes. 32.1): Μενεσθεὺς ...τούς τε δυνατοὺς συνίστη καὶ παρώξυνε, πάλαι βαρυνομένους τὸν Θησέα καὶ νομίζοντας ἀ ρχὴν καὶ βασιλείαν ἀ φῃρημένον ἑ κάστου τω̃ν κατὰ δη̃μον εὐ πατριδω̃νεἰς ἓν ἄστυ συνείρξαντα πάντας ὑ πηκόοις χρη̃σθαι καὶ δούλοις, τούς τε πολλοὺς διετάραττε καὶ διέβαλλεν, ὡ ς ὄναρ ἐλευθερίας ὁ ρω̃ντας, ἔργῳ δ’ ἀ πεστερημένους πατρίδων καὶ ἱερω̃ν, ὅπως ἀ ντὶ πολλω̃ν καὶ ἀ γαθω̃ν καὶ γνησίων βασιλέων πρὸς ἕνα δεσπότην ἔπηλυν καὶ ξένον ἀ ποβλέπωσι.

Menestheus ...united and stirred up the powerful men in Athens. These had long felt op- pressed by Theseus and thought he had robbed each of the country nobles of his royal ofﬁce, and then shut them all up in a single city, where he treated them as subjects and slaves. The common people he also threw into confusion and misled. They thought they had a vision of liberty, he said, but in reality they had been robbed of their native homes and religions in order that, in the place of many good kings of their own blood, they might look obediently to one master who was an immigrant and an alien.80 The events described above closely match those surrounding the charge of tyranny brought against Herodes by the Athenians. After the people turn against Theseus he exiles himself and, similarly, after the trial at Sirmium “some” (as Philostratus says) record the exile of Herodes (Plut. Thes. 35.3; Philostr. VS 562). In contrast, in Pausanias’ version (1.17.5–6) Menestheus institutes democracy by expelling Theseus and courting the demos’ favor. Patrick Hogan has shown that Pausanias presents monarchy as the best form of government and Menestheus’ democracy as a threat to Athens’ greatness. He suggests Pausanias is drawing a parallel with his own second-century context and cautioning against giving Rome an excuse to intervene locally over elite disunity, as the Dioscuri did in the struggle between Menestheus and those loyal to Theseus. Pausanias presents Theseus as wronged by the demos and then later, through Cimon’s agency, redeemed.81

79. Goušchin 1999. See Walker 1995, 144–46, for Theseus’ transformation from self-centered violent hero to democratic leader and Mills 1997 for Theseus as consistently imagined as representing Athenian core values. See Calame 1990 for the relationship of Theseus to Attic cult. 80. Translation adapted from Perrin 1914. Cf. Paus. 1.3.3. 81. See Hogan (2017), who draws parallels between Pausanias’ portraits of Theseus and Themistocles in a similar way to my comparison of Theseus and Herodes. I am grateful to Patrick Hogan for providing an advance copy of his article. 260 ESTELLE STRAZDINS

Philostratus’ narrative of Herodes follows a similar pattern, but is far less certain of the rightful outcome. The strong strain of allusion throughout the life of Herodes to Theseus and the concurrent ambivalence toward the protagonist may well be due to Herodes’ own posturing as a Thesean figure and Philostratus’ mixed feelings about the implications of any attempt to restore a Thesean-style monarchy. On the one hand, a Thesean Herodes could be the champion Athens needs to cast off the shack- les of Rome; on the other, such a figure would entail the substitution of one monarchy for another (albeit a potentially “democratic” one) and, if unsuccessful, could bring heavy-handed Roman intervention on the polis. Thus in the world of Philos- tratean rhetoric the contradictory, ambiguous figure of Theseus offers an effective mythical analogue for the enigmatic Herodes. Herodes (Ἡρώδης) can be presented as the hero (ἥρως) of Athens, who challenges the absolute control of the city by Rome; yet at the same time he must always fail, given Athens’ love of democracy and freedom, and the incongruity (even in classical times) of the civic veneration of its legendary king.82 Not to mention the prevalence of the concept of imperial democracy in contemporary Greek literature and the reality that, politically, Athens was but one small cog in the greater imperial wheel. In this light, Philostratus’ life of Herodes is a commentary on the limitations to individual greatness placed on the provincial Greek elite in the Roman empire and perhaps Philostratus sees himself and his own cultural and political con- straints in the figure of Herodes.83 In the Lives, Herodes is heroic, but because of his very heroism—his larger than life, domineering, and often antisocial behavior—he fails to negotiate imperial society effectively and, concurrently, he exists in tension with the Athenian demos, because the empire can brook no King of Athens and a true democracy has no place for supermen.84 The kind of imperial democracy alluded to by Philostratus, Aelius Aristides, or Dio Cas- sius is indicative of an acceptance that the advent and persistence of the empire and the emperor signify an absolute end to real polis-based political freedom.85 This notion potentially lies beneath the passage from Plutarch quoted above as well (Thes. 32.1), in which “democratic” monarchy promises liberty, but fails to deliver. Harry Sidebottom has argued that “philosopher” and “sophist,” especially in Philostratus’ Lives, function as “supra-polis symbolic roles ...with enough symbolic capital to operate on a level with Roman power.”86 Philo- stratus’ life of the sophist Herodes, however, suggests the opposite. Herodes’ sophistic realm comes to seem escapist and constructed in comparison to the reality of the empire, within which there is no longer room for the Thesean figure Herodes approximates (unless it be the emperor himself ). Thus, for Philostratus, Herodes fails to be a new Theseus, but his feelings about that failure are unclear. His presentation of two, superimposed Athens— the sophistic cultural center ruled graciously by Herodes and the minor political entity governed by Rome, in which Herodes oversteps his bounds—suggests that the incongruity of Philostratus’ heroic, sophistic Herodes in the wider empire

82. See Walker 1995, 3. 83. On Philostratus’ life, see Bowie 2009; König 2014. 84. See Walker 1995, 147. 85. Starr 1952, 16. 86. Sidebottom 2009, 98. THE KING OF ATHENS 261 could be a critique of the “Second Sophistic” itself, in its harking back to the glory days of a city that is now part of another’s empire and the notion that cultural expression can compete with Roman might. Alternatively, Philostratus’ ambivalence may be intended to imply that Herodes does not go far enough, in that he fails to unite culture and power successfully. So, although his sophistic realm functions independently of Rome and, as Jason König has established, is founded absolutely in Hellenic culture and traditions,87 Herodes fails Athens and Greece in limiting his political challenges to Roman authority, just as Athens fails him by not accepting his attempts to rule. The failure of man and city to be mutually worthy may explain the discrepancy between the epitaph recorded by Philostratus that labels Herodes “Marathonian” and his last words on the matter, τοσαυ̃τα περὶ Ἡρώδου του̃ Ἀθηναίου (VS 566), that, as well as conveying the sense of having exhausted the subject, also surely imply, “so much for Herodes the Athenian.”

6. CONCLUSIONS Philostratus’ presentation of Herodes is complex, ambivalent, rhetorical, and al- lusive. It casts him as tyrant, king, and hero, and opposes him to philosophers. He builds Herodes up, but also undercuts him in ways that suggest he is not equipped to succeed in his sociopolitical context. More speciﬁcally, Philostratus uses Herodes’ own apparent posturing as a “new Theseus” to reveal the limitations to real greatness (i.e., outside the artistic realm) that form the reality of the provincial elite. Herodes rules supreme in his sophistic world, but when he tries to extend his power to the political sphere—when he tries to be not only the King of Words but also the King of Athens—he is rejected by the demos as a tyrant and chastened by the emperor. His political failure is assured because of Athens’ pride in its democratic past and because the city already has a king. In- deed, the Thesean model of democratic kingship more closely approximates vi- sions of Roman rulers in contemporary Greek literature and notably Marcus Aurelius in the Lives of the Sophists. So, why then does Philostratus cast Herodes as a failed Theseus? Is it a critique of the preoccupations and isolation of the cultural bubble he is canonizing and apparently celebrating? Is he frustrated by the failure of elite men of culture to carve an appropriate political niche and have ambitions beyond promulgating Hellenic culture in a Roman world? Is he concerned that his sophistic utopia is doomed by its ever greater embroilment in a wider political reality? The text’s ambivalence to Herodes suggests all three and certainly an inherent, unresolv- able tension in being a Greek pepaideumenos and a politically active Roman citizen. Even Herodes, whose wealth, status, education, connections, and ambition are second to none, fails to unite culture and power successfully. Moreover, in over-writing the historical Herodes, who fails to live up to any of the rhetorical roles our author creates for him, Philostratus demonstrates the authority of the written word to shape perception, which in itself can be seen as critiquing the ephemerality of a sophistic culture based on epideixis. Perhaps this is the mes- sage behind the textual Philagrus’ triumph and the performer Alexander’s fail-

87. König 2014, 258–70. 262 ESTELLE STRAZDINS ure in Rome, the center of power. Philostratus’ depiction of Herodes, then, presents a vision of Greek rhetorical culture that is uncertain of its place in a Roman world and Philostratus’ attempts to capture it textually may be symptomatic of its increasing cultural speciﬁcity and functional isolation.

Centre for the Study of Greek and Roman Antiquity, Corpus Christi College, Oxford

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