2. Everts, P.S., De Tacitea historiae conscribendae ratione (Kerkrade 1926), at 20–22Google Scholar, suggests that not only does Tacitus write in tragic style, but that each mutiny follows the specific format of a tragedy (Pannonia: 24–41; Rhine: 41–56; see too Woodman, A.J., ‘Mutiny and Madness: Tacitus Annates 1.16–49’, Arethusa 39 [2006], 303–29CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 307 nn.10–11), and traces peripeteiai and catastrophes in each. Goodyear, F.R.D., The Annals of Tacitus Vol. 1: 1.1–54 and Vol. 2: 1.55–81; II (Cambridge 1972 and 1981), at 196Google Scholar, plausibly suggests that this is more persuasive in outline than in such detail. See too F. Santoro L’Hoir, Tragedy, Rhetoric, and the Historiography of Tacitus’ Annates (Ann Arbor 2006) on theatricality throughout the Annals; Malissard, A., ‘Tacite et le théâtre ou la mort en scéne’, in J. Blänsdorf (ed.) Theater und Gesellschaft im Imperium Romanum/Théâtre et société dans l’empire romain (Tübingen 1990), 213–22Google Scholar, at 215f., on Tacitus ‘dramatic’ narrative style; Mendell, C.W., Tacitus: The Man and His Work (New Haven 1957), 96Google Scholar, on Tacitus’ ‘conscious use of means familiar in the drama to give to the narration of historical facts the tension and enthralling interest of a great and serious play’; Mellor, R., Tacitus (London 1993Google Scholar) on the ‘cinematic’ qualities of the episode, with 118–22 on the Annals as a ‘series of tragedies’; Walker, B., The Annals of Tacitus: A Study in the Writing of History (Manchester 1952), 203Google Scholar, 218 and 232–34, on Tacitus’ use of epic and dramatic devices to depict Germanicus (although she views Germanicus’ behaviour here, particularly his speech, as ‘oratorical’ [9f.]). Dickison, S.K., ‘Claudius: Saturnalicius Princeps’, Latomus 36 (1977), 634–47Google Scholar; Woodman, A.J., ‘Amateur Dramatics at the Court of Nero: Annals 15.48–74’, in T.J. Luce & A.J. Woodman (eds.), Tacitus and the Tacitean Tradition (Princeton 1993), 104–28Google Scholar; Pomeroy, A.J., ‘Theatricality in Tacitus’s Histories’, Arethusa 39 (2006), 171–91CrossRefGoogle Scholar, all explicitly discuss theatricality in Tacitus, the first in the case of Claudius, the second in the Pisonian conspiracy, the third throughout the Histories. Betensky, A., ‘Neronian Style, Tacitean Content: The Use of Ambiguous Confrontations in the Annals’, Latomus 37 (1978), 419–35Google Scholar, explores the ways ‘theater has overtaken real life’ in the Neronian books (435). This image of Neronian theatricality is not peculiar to Tacitus: see Leigh, M., Lucan: Spectacle and Engagement (Oxford 1997Google Scholar) on engaged spectatorship in Lucan, and Dickison 635f. (with bibliography) on mime in Petronius and Seneca. On Tacitus’ constant use of theatrical metaphor and ‘the world of popular entertainment’ as a comment on Romans’ increasing difficulty discriminating between life and art, see Shumate, N., ‘Compulsory Pretense and the ‘“Theatricalization of Experience” in Tacitus’, in C. Deroux (ed.) Studies in Latin Literature and Roman History 8 (Brussels 1997), 364–403Google Scholar, at 371 and 374. As art, so life: see Woodman (‘Amateur Dramatics’ above); Bartsch, S., Actors in the Audience: Theatricality and Doublespeak from Nero to Hadrian (Cambridge MA 1994CrossRefGoogle Scholar), esp. ch. 2 on Tacitus’ recognition of the performative elements of life under Nero’s rule; Edwards, C., ‘Beware of Imitations: Theatre and the Subversion of Imperial Identity’, in J. Eisner & J. Masters (eds.), Reflections of Nero: Culture, History, and Representation (Chapel Hill 1994), 83–97Google Scholar, at 83f. and 93 n.3 for the Stoic notion that life itself was a performance; Dupont, F., L’acteur-roi ou le théâtre dans la Rome antique (Paris 1985), 422–37Google Scholar, on Nero’s attention to performances of all sorts; and C: Manning, E., ‘Acting and Nero’s Conception of the Principate’, G&R 22 (1975), 164–75Google Scholar, for the argument that theatrical performance was part of a deliberate strategy on the part of Nero to woo the plebs.

3. There has been much work on the subject. Especially helpful in distinguishing drama from ‘drama’ is Woodman (n.2 above, ‘Amateur Dramatics’), esp. 122 n.74. Similar in some ways to my approach are studies that discuss the use of theatrical motifs in Tacitus (e.g. Dickison [n.2 above] on Claudius as, among other things, senex amator and mime-cuckold, and Woodman op. cit. on the participants in the Pisonian conspiracy as actors); in the absence of lexical markers here I make no such claim (but see p.173 below for Tacitean invocations of the theatre in Annals 1 and Mendell [n.2 above], 105, on the importance of Greek tragedy for the Annals). Malissard (n.2 above), 213, well notes Tacitus’ use of ‘moyens théâtraux’ to move his reader. Bartsch (n.2 above), 10f., and Shumate (n.2 above), 365 and passim, are interested in the conflation in real life and in Tacitus between spectator and audience; the former sees this as a dangerous phenomenon, while the latter focuses on the comfort to be found in artifice (366). Walker, A.D., ‘Enargeia and the Spectator in Greek Historiography’, TAPA 123 (1993), 353–77Google Scholar, at 363, discusses the function of spectators in ‘dramatic’ narratives in Thucydides and Dionysius.

4. For a similar notion of performativity in Tacitus, see Shumate (n.2 above), 375, on how ‘characters in the narrative are depicted as adopting the attitude of performers rather than of spectators, often in an effort to manipulate the emotions of an “audience”’. She, however, sees this attitude as increasingly reflexive rather than deliberate, reflecting deep flaws in the imperial system and rising to a peak under Nero (376f.).

5. See Tacitus himself on the increasingly blurred boundaries between theatre and imperial oratory, Dial. 26.1–3, 29.3, with Shumate (n.2 above), 401f., and Gellius 1.5.2–3 on the orator Hortensius’ histrionic gestures. On the theatrical aspects of oratory in Cicero’s time, see Gotoff, H., ‘Oratory: The Art of Illusion’, HSCP 95 (1993), 289–313Google Scholar, esp 289–94, and on Cicero’s use of emotional appeals, May, J.M., ‘Persuasion, Ciceronian Style’, CO 71 (1994), 37–41Google Scholar.

6. See Dudley, D.R., The World of Tacitus (London 1968), 136Google Scholar, on the army’s reasons for mutiny; he suggests that they were good, and sees Tacitus as conveying the impression ‘that the Roman Army was at the limit of its resources, physical and mental’ (144). Keppie, L., The Making of the Roman Army: From Republic to Empiré (London 1984), 145fGoogle Scholar, draws attention to the fact that the military was in the process of changing from a temporary to a permanent career, and that not all soldiers would have known this, or liked it; here, unlike in later mutinies, a desire for discharge was their primary motivation. At 170 Keppie also draws attention to the effects on the army, both psychological and financial, of the Varus disaster. Rose, E., ‘The Anatomy of Mutiny’, Armed Forces and Society 8 (1982), 561–74CrossRefGoogle Scholar, is helpful for a definition of mutiny (561), a typology of mutiny (565–68), and on leaders of mutiny (569); Chrissanthos, S.G., Seditio: Mutiny in the Roman Army 90–40 BC (Diss. Southern California 1999Google Scholar) provides lists and characteristic features of Republican mutinies; and Manolaraki, E., Seditio: Military Disintegration in Tacitus’ Histories (Diss. Cornell 2003), 9–56Google Scholar, discusses literary topoi of mutiny.

7. Superbire (‘preened themselves’, 1.19.5), terrorem (‘terror’, 1.21.1), consternationis inuidiaeque (‘unsettlement and resentment’, 1.23.1), non laetae (‘not overjoyed’, 1.24.3), quamquam maestitiam imitarentur, contumaciae propiores (‘although they put on a show of grief, they were closer to insolence’, 1.24.3); inuidiam misericordiam metum et iras permouerent (‘to incite resentment, pity, fear and anger’, 1.21.4). I have here cited only the emotionally laden words used by Tacitus with no interpretations of my own added (e.g. that those about to kill were ‘angry’ vel sim.).

8. As J.B. Campbell, The Emperor and the Roman Army: 31BC-AD 235 (Oxford 1984), 75, notes, this is unusual, even given the soldiers’ dissatisfaction. See Koestermann, E., Cornelius Tacitus Annalen Band I: Buck 1–3 (Heidelberg 1963Google Scholar) ad loc.

9. See Miller, N.P., Tacitus, Annals, Book I (Bristol 1992Google Scholar) ad loc, on the timing of the eclipse, which was actually early in the morning rather than at night. As many have noted (e.g. Koestermann [n.8 above] and Goodyear [n.2 above] ad loc), eclipses do not vary in brightness, so Tacitus’ meaning here is unclear.

10. Goodyear (n.2 above) ad loc. suggests with hesitation that the moon’s variability is in the minds of the soldiers, who alternately believe and disbelieve in the efficacy of their magic. I think he is right to connect the fluctuations of the moon with those of the soldiers; they are consistently portrayed as variable. It is surprising that Woodman (n.2 above, ‘Mutiny and Madness’) does not make more of the connections between the moon and lunacy, as his main thesis is that the soldiers are portrayed as suffering from and then cured of clinical insanity.

11. Cf. Blaesus above and see Williams, M.F., ‘Four Mutinies: Tacitus Annals 1.16–30; 1.31–49 and Ammianus Marcellinus Res Gestae 20.4.9–20.5.7; 24.3.1–8’, Phoenix 51 (1997), 44–74CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 50, on Drusus’ exploitation of the men’s superstition.

12. Cf. the use of murmur incertum at 1.25.2, which, as Goodyear (n.2 above) notes, is reminiscent of a storm. See now Woodman’s thorough study of the imagery of madness (and cure) throughout both mutinies (n.2 above, ‘Mutiny and Madness’, 312 on furor). While Woodman sees himself as ‘correcting’ Goodyear, who thought that fire imagery was dominant, I do not think the two are exclusive.

13. Goodyear (n.2 above) ad 1.24.3–25.2.

14. On this, see Dudley (n.6 above), 138.

15. Cf. Williams, B., ‘Reading Tacitus’ Tiberian Annals’, Ramus 18 (1989), 140–66CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 154f., on the Pannonian mutiny as a struggle between factions for control over the soldiers’ emotions, and conclusions similar to mine in Woodman (n.2 above, ‘Mutiny and Madness’), who envisions it in terms of (mental) disease and cure. On rational and irrational forces in the armies of Galba and Otho, see Seiler, H.G., Die Masse bei Tacitus (Erlangen 1936), 53fGoogle Scholar., and Ash, R., ‘Severed Heads: Individual Portraits and Irrational Forces in Plutarch’s Galba and Otho’, in J.M. Mossman (ed.), Plutarch and his Intellectual World: Essays on Plutarch (London 1997), 189–214Google Scholar. While both eclipses are attested historically, I suspect that Tacitus may also be thinking of the eclipse under Nicias’ Sicilian command, and particularly contrasting that general’s superstitious behaviour, following the soldiers’ lead (Thuc. 7.50.4; Plut. Nic. 23.1), with Drusus’ more rational response. Compare too Plutarch’s digression on eclipses, which ensures that his reader not remain ignarus rationis. And for the ability of the good officer to manipulate his men, see e.g. Suet. Diu. lul. 59.

16. It is perhaps too much to see an allusion to the end of Sallust’s Catiline (61.9) here, or to the Thucydidean scene at Syracuse (7.71.3), in both of which the spectre of civil war is raised. But if we are meant to look back (cf. too the description of the men who alternately uocibus truculentis strepere [‘clamoured with angry voices’] and trepidare [‘were in a state of trepidation’], 1.25.2), part of Tacitus’ point (also made elsewhere, particularly in the Histories) is likely to be that a mutiny is not much different from a civil war. On the equation of mutiny and civil war in Tacitus, see O’Gorman, E., Irony and Misreading in the Annals of Tacitus (Cambridge 2000), 23–45CrossRefGoogle Scholar, esp. 23, 26, 40f.; Woodman, A.J., Tacitus Reviewed (Oxford 1998), 57Google Scholar and n.51; and (most extensively) Manolaraki (n.6 above) 3, 21, 42, 67 and passim. It also, of course, appears outside of Tacitus; cf. Manolaraki op. cit. for details.

17. Walbank, F.W., ‘History and Tragedy’, Historia 9 (1960), 216–34Google Scholar = Selected Papers: Studies in Greek and Roman History and Historiography (Cambridge 1985), 224–41Google Scholar (page numbers from latter), is of vital importance to the question of tragic history; see particularly 230 for similarities between history and tragedy (deriving from the roots of both in epic), and 236 on the difficulties of historians themselves in determining generic boundaries. Wiseman, T.P., ‘Lying Historians: Seven Types of Mendacity’, in C. Gill & T.P. Wiseman (eds.), Lies and Fiction in the Ancient World (Austin 1993), 122–46CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 132, notes ‘the effect of rhetoric and drama’ in encouraging exaggeration in historical narrative. He also observes that Roman history was represented in dramatic form (ibid. 134, and see Wiseman, T.P., Roman Drama and Roman History [Exeter 1998]Google Scholar, passim). While this is the reverse of the phenomenon here examined, it shows the fluidity between the two genres; ‘vividness’ is easily created by ‘dramatic’ elements (see esp. Borzsak, I., ‘Spectaculum: ein Motiv der “tragische Geschichtschreibung” bei Livius und Tacitus’, ACD 9 [1973], 57–67Google Scholar, on the use of ‘theatrical imagery’ in historians, and Shumate [n.2 above], 365, on Tacitus’ larger reasons for combining the two). See too Levene, D.S., ‘Pity, Fear and the Historical Audience: Tacitus on the Fall of Vitellius’, in S.M. Braund & C. Gill (eds.), The Passions in Roman Thought and Literature (Cambridge 1997), 128–49Google Scholar, for distinctions between rhetoric, drama and history, with Tacitus’ assumption that historians present fabulae (Ann. 3.19.2, 4.11.2–3, 11.27).

18. Woodman (n.16 above).

19. See especially Goodyear’s (n.2 above) statement at 196f. that each mutiny ‘is to no small extent T.’s own creation, based indeed on a reliable outline of what actually happened, and somewhat influenced by stock material, but imaginatively and originally elaborated’. I am all but convinced by Malloch, S.J.V., ‘The End of the Rhine Mutiny in Tacitus, Suetonius, and Dio’, CQ 54 (2004), 198–210CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 198f., that Tacitus/Suetonius and Dio derive ultimately from a single historical source, but with differing emphases; see too Hurley, D.W., ‘Gaius Caligula in the Germanicus Tradition’, AJP 110 (1989), 316–38Google Scholar, at 330, on the intrusion of a ‘pro-Germanicus’ source into the tale.

20. Mutinies in reality: Rose (n.6 above); mutinies in literature: Manolaraki (n.6 above).

21. It is a commonplace that Tacitus, and with him nearly all other ancient writers (and many modern: Rudé, G., The Crowd in History: A Study of Popular Disturbances in France and England 1730–1848 [New York 1964], 9fGoogle Scholar., 252–54; Smelser, N.J., Theory of Collective Behavior [New York 1963], 222–69CrossRefGoogle Scholar), view the ‘crowd’, whether it be the urban masses or the soldiery, as fickle and irrational. I include here only a very few representative ancient examples of the fickleness of the crowd, from a variety of genres. The people as like the sea: Iliad 2.144–46; Dem. de Fals. Leg. 136; Cic. Clu. 138, with Manolaraki (n.6 above), 26–29. Mobility of the people: Curt. 9.4.22 (omnis multitudo, but especially militaris); and of course, Tac. Hist. 1.80.2; Ann. 1.29.3, etc. As many have noted, Tacitus often moves beyond simple characterisations of crowd behaviour (see especially Ash, R., Ordering Anarchy: Armies and Leaders in Tacitus’ Histories [Ann Arbor 1999]CrossRefGoogle Scholar, and O’Gorman [n.15 above], 27–33, on the lack of homogeneity in Tacitus’ armies). For helpful modern readings of ancient collective behaviour, see, in addition to Ash, Chrissanthos (n.6 above); Kajanto, I., ‘Tacitus’ Attitude to War and the Soldier’, Latomus 29 (1970), 699–718Google Scholar, at 706–09; Manolaraki (n.6 above)—all on the army—and Yavetz, Z., Plebs and Princeps (Oxford 1969), 4–7Google Scholar on the plebs. I have found Rose (n.6 above), Watson, B.A., When Soldiers Quit: Studies in Military Disintegration (Westport 1997Google Scholar), and Hathaway, J. (ed.), Rebellion, Repression, Reinvention: Mutiny in Comparative Perspective (Westport 2001Google Scholar) useful on the psychology of modern armies in mutiny, especially Rose’s discussion of causes of mutiny, leadership and fickleness (n.6 above, 156–69).

22. Some see the two mutinies as designed to form a theme with variations (e.g. Woodman [n.2 above, ‘Mutiny and Madness’], 304, 311, etc.) and others see some significant contrast being drawn between the two episodes or leaders; of the latter, opinion is again split as to whether Germanicus or Drusus comes off better (usually Drusus; e.g. C. Pelling, ‘Tacitus and Germanicus’, in Luce & Woodman [n.2 above], 59–85, 64, with Velleius 2.125.4 and probably Tacitus 1.78.2, but cf. B. Gallotta, Germanico [Rome 1987], 78–95, Mellor [n.2 above], 82, and Williams [n.11 above], 46, for the minority opinion). I agree with Pelling (68) that we cannot necessarily draw conclusions about the generals by comparing the two mutinies. Caesar, who is not only an obvious comparandum, but one mentioned later by Germanicus, handled mutinies with unwonted severity: App. BC 2.47, 2.92, Bell. Afr. 19, 28, 54, Dio 41.26–36, Suet. Diu. lul. 69 (especially the last; contra, Plut. Caes. 51). Drusus is harsh and handles the army by preying upon their suspicions. Germanicus is mild but melodramatic; he first manipulates the army and then allows them to glut themselves in a frenzy of self-punishment. The second is probably more objectionable, but neither general displays ideal leadership, and by the Caesarian comparison Drusus is to be preferred. I owe the comparison with Caesar and the citations to W.J. Tatum.

23. I say ‘seems’ because most discussions of the mutinies run the risk of circularity: the German mutiny is usually considered more significant because it takes up more space in Tacitus’ narrative; it also takes longer to quell, and Germanicus makes many concessions to the mutineers. But most of these features are due either to Tacitus’ shaping of the story or to Germanicus’ poor handling of the troops, so it is difficult to know whether the mutiny simply merits more attention because it has been given more. Here as often in Tacitus’ narrative, the abilities of Germanicus are called into question; indeed, the very number of pages Germanicus requires may suggest his incompetence.

24. I owe the phrasing of this point to E. Manolaraki. On acts of military disobedience as attempts at definition, communication or interpretation, see Watson (n.21 above), passim; Carney, E., ‘Macedonians and Mutiny: Discipline and Indiscipline in the Army of Philip and Alexander’, CP 91 (1996), 19–44Google Scholar, at 19 and passim; and, on the Tacitean mutinies as instantiating competing interpretations of behaviour and definitions, O’Gorman (n.15 above), 26f. Smith, L.V., Between Mutiny and Obedience: The Case of the French Fifth Infantry Division During World War I (Princeton 1994), 244Google Scholar, outlines the ways in which, through a mutiny, soldiers can shape policy, and Rose (n.6 above), 572, makes the point that mutiny is nearly always successful in achieving its aims. Chrissanthos (n.6 above) is less favourable to the soldiers than most of the other scholars cited here, but is indispensable for details and interpretation of the political stakes of individual mutinies.

25. Both Tacitus (Bird, H.W., ‘Germanicus Mytheroicus’, EMC/CV 17 [1973], 94–101Google Scholar, at 96; Malissard [n.2 above], 217–19) and other ancient sources seem to depict Germanicus in this way (cf. e.g. his costuming at Ann. 2.12–13); this suggests that it is genuine, or at least that the tradition had agreed upon it as truth. See Daitz, S.G., ‘Tacitus’ Technique of Character Portrayal’, AJP 81 (1960), 30–52Google Scholar, at 37, on the mythologising of Germanicus both before and after his death; Braccesi, L., ‘Germanico e 1’Imitatio Alexandri in Occidente’, in G. Bonamente & M.P. Segoloni (eds.), Germanico: la persona, la personalità, il personaggio nel bimellenario dalla nascita (Rome 1987), 53–65Google Scholar, on Germanicus’ (self-)fashioning as Alexander in the west, particularly Germany, where he could be seen as expanding the borders of the empire; and. G.C. Marrone, ‘Germanico e 1’Imitatio Alexandri in Oriente’, in Bonamente & Segoloni op. cit., 67–77, on a similar phenomenon on the east.

26. See Goodyear (n.2 above) ad loc. for citations of trouble caused by those involved with the theatre; Koestermann (n.8 above) on theatrical claques and on the use of theatrical metaphors throughout Annals 1; and Malissard (n.2 above), 213f., on the regularity of mentions by Tacitus of theatre history. On dramatic vocabulary in the narrative of the Pisonian conspiracy, see Woodman (n.2 above, ‘Amateur Dramatics’).

27. He is dux olim theatralium operarum. See Dio 30.100, on a mutiny in 88 BCE, led by an (‘a frequenter of the forum who made his living from the courts’); the difference in prior occupation is surely significant.

28. Because of the Teutobergerwald disaster under Varus several years previously, Rome had been forced to resort to the kind of men usually not considered fit for military service. According to Chrissanthos (n.6 above), 50, soldiers drawn from Rome were never found satisfactory. And on Tacitus’ general view of the soldier as (just barely) morally superior to the ‘man in the Roman street’, see Kajanto (n.21 above), 716. One of Tacitus’ main criticisms of the ‘crowd’ is its susceptibility to and interest in popular entertainment (Shumate [n.2] above, 377f.).

29. Cf. Dio 57.5.4, who refers to them merely as belonging to ‘the mass from the city’ (). But see O’Gorman (n.16 above), 25 and 39–45, on the ways Tacitus problematises a distinction between city and army, soldier and senator. On lasciuia as characteristic of popular entertainments, see Ann. 1.77, 11.13, 13.25 with Shumate (n.2 above), 374n.29.

30. For the importance of the theatre, especially tragedy, to Roman daily life, see Dupont (n.2 above), 21 and 165–68; Grimal, P., ‘Le théâtre à Rome’, in Association Guillaume Budé, Actes du IX^e Congrès, Rome, 13–18 avril, 1973 (Paris 1973), 270Google Scholar and passim. Connections between insubordination, theatricality, the military, and urban pleasures also feature at Hist. 2.93, where Vitellius’ legions arrive at Rome, fall under the spell of inlecebras urbis (‘allurements of the city’), and degenerate into a rebellious mob; Ann. 13.24, where the soldiers are removed from the theatre in part to order to encourage them to behave with less theatrali licentiae (‘lack of restraint associated with the theatre’). More generally, the people are presented as addicted to theatre at Hist. 1.4.3 and Ann. 1.54.2.1 owe these citations to E. Manolaraki.

31. See Goodyear (n.2 above) ad loc. on the history of theatrical disturbances in Rome. On the corporal punishment of infames, see Edwards, C., The Politics of Immorality in Ancient Rome (Cambridge 1993), 124CrossRefGoogle Scholar; on capital punishment for soldiers appearing on stage, ibid. 125f., citing Dig. 48.19.14; 49.16.4.1–9. For the standard Roman antithesis between the actor and the soldier, see ibid. lOlf. with Woodman (n.2 above, ‘Amateur Dramatics’), 121, both with citations.

32. For Tiberius’ eventual expulsion of the actors, see Ann. 4.14. In the Annals as a whole, the play-acting soldiers of Book 1 refer forward to the key role of the army after the death of Nero, but also to that emperor’s dangerous conflation of the two spheres of acting and being a Roman citizen.

33. On Germanicus’ loyalty, see Syme, R., Tacitus (2 vols.: Oxford 1958), 370Google Scholar, and Levick, B., Tiberius the Politician (London 1976), 75 and 148CrossRefGoogle Scholar; our sources see Tiberius as worried about Germanicus’ imperial pretensions, but modern scholars find this unlikely.

34. Manolaraki (n.6 above), 9–56.

35. On the historical/oratorical display of wounds see Leigh (n.2 above), 221–33, with numerous Latin citations and bibliography; for Lucan (and Leigh), soldiers’ protests are made more vivid by their making a (gladiatorial) spectacle of themselves (226). The fact that gladiators, who are also performers of a certain kind, are regularly characterised as scarred, may also be in play in Tacitus; on the antithesis between gladiator and soldier, particularly in terms of their similar but very different oaths, see Edwards, C., ‘Unspeakable Professions: Public Performance and Prostitution in Ancient Rome’, in J.P. Hallett & M.B. Skinner (eds.), Roman Sexualities (Princeton 1997), 66–95, 71Google Scholar. Hopkins, K., Death and Renewal (Cambridge 1983), 12CrossRefGoogle Scholar, discusses defeated soldiers who are forced to perform in the games; see too Wiedemann, T., Emperors and Gladiators (London 1995), 27Google Scholar, on the anxieties caused by Spartacus’ army and on gladiatorial troops used as a private army, and Gwyn Morgan, M., ‘A Lugubrious Prospect: Tacitus, Histories 1.40’, CQ 44 (1994), 236–44CrossRefGoogle Scholar, on Tacitus’ use of gladiatorial and chariot imagery in the Histories. There are also, of course, imperial recreations of famous battles using gladiators (e.g. Claudius’ at Ann. 12.65, Dio 60.33).

36. On plays and other performances as a chance for audience (and actors) to display their political feelings (often hostile), see Dupont (n.2 above), 119–23, 419–20; Edwards (n.31 above), 115–19; Woodman (n.2 above, ‘Amateur Dramatics’), 107f.; Bartsch (n.2 above), If., 69, 71–78, all with citations (Cic. Sest. 106, 115–26, Att. 14.3.2, Fam. 8.2.1). Hopkins (n.35 above), 14–20, notes a similar phenomenon for the gladiatorial games, and observes that audience interaction there formed a key part of the spectacle.

37. As Furneaux, H., The Annals of Tacitus, Vol 1: Books I-VI² (Oxford 1896Google Scholar) notes ad loc., this suggests that they view Germanicus as the rightful heir of Augustus. There is much debate about whether Germanicus would have been accepted as emperor by the senate, whether Tiberius was truly worried about Germanicus as a threat (see Syme [n.33 above], 370), and also whether the army might really have thought they could make him so—or in fact have been able to; see Shotter, D.C.A., ‘Tacitus, Tiberius and Germanicus’, Historia 17 (1968), 194–214Google Scholar, at 200f.

38. See e.g. Dio 66.25.4–5, Suet. Nero 11, with Dupont (n.2 above), 69.

39. The text is Goodyear’s (n.2 above), here and throughout.

40. Koestermann (n.8 above) ad loc. calls this episode Tacitus’ ‘stärkste dramatische Akzente;’ see too Jr.Ross, D.O., ‘The Tacitean Germanicus’, YCS 23 (1973), 209–27Google Scholar, at 215, who calls it a ‘suicide play’ and observes its parallelism to Blaesus’ (much more heroically depicted) action in Pannonia (1.18.3).

41. Thanks to the reader for this journal for the reminder about the Petronius passage.

42. The multiplicity of response among the soldiers is duplicated by modern readers: as with many of the actions of Germanicus, historians have difficulty determining the tone of his performance; comparison to Blaesus’ actions in 1.18 suggests that Germanicus’ suicide attempt was, at the least, overdone. On the question of taste, see Goodyear’s (n.2 above) cautionary note ad loc.; he warns that Romans ‘were somewhat fond of extravagant gestures and emotional display’, but also suggests that Tacitus himself would have found his behaviour ‘discreditable’ if entertaining (and narratively desirable); Boissier, G., Tacitus and Other Roman Studies, tr. W.G. Hutchison (London 1906Google Scholar), suggests, by contrast, that Tacitus shared the Roman love for the dramatic (69, with citations, and see Walbank [n.17 above], 238f., on ancient sensitivity to emotional language). For a positive interpretation of Germanicus’ suicide attempt, see Williams (n.11 above), 53f. Chrissanthos (n.6 above), 69f., 107, 161 and passim discusses the physical dangers for the commander of a contio of disaffected soldiers.

43. Presumably Germanicus would have begun with the letter if he had had it, and no doubt suspicions were also raised by the fact that ‘Tiberius’ ’ letter addressed the army’s demands so closely (cf. Koestermann [n.8 above] and Goodyear [n.2 above] ad loc.)

44. The letter is perhaps at its most dangerous in Euripides’ Hippolytus, but also causes trouble in the Iphigenia at Aulis; on epistolarity in the former, see Rosenmeyer, P.A., Ancient Epistolary Fictions: The Letter in Greek Literature (Cambridge 2001), 88–97Google Scholar, and in the latter, 80–88.

45. While there is much made in the scholarship about Germanicus’ forgery of this letter (e.g. Goodyear [n.2 above] ad loc., who sorely misses ‘adverse comment’ from Tacitus, and Ross [n.40 above], 215f., who finds it disgraceful), it seems neither to have been his idea, nor to have made things much worse than they already were. Seager, R., Tiberius (Berkeley 1972), 66–68Google Scholar, suggests that Germanicus had few other options. The fact that it is also attested in Dio (57.5.5) need not prevent us from seeing it as serving a dramatic function in Tacitus (indeed, if it actually occurred, it might well have been chosen by Germanicus precisely for its dramatic associations).

46. Malloch (n.19 above) sees this payment as a direct result of the failure of the letter; in Dio, by contrast, the soldiers only see through the ruse at the arrival of the senatorial legation (57.5.5).

47. Gerber, A. and Greef, A., Lexicon Taciteum Vol. 1 (Leipzig 1903Google Scholar), divide audacia in Tacitus about evenly between positive and negative connotations (s.v.), a fact worthy of mention because the prefect’s behaviour here is reminiscent of Drusus’ earlier.

48. Cf. O’Gorman (n.16 above), 13 and passim, on the phenomenon of misreading by characters within the Annals.

49. See Goodyear’s (n.2 above) discussion ad loc. on the uncertainty whether this is Germanicus’ own uexillum or that of the newly discharged veterans.

50. Furneaux (n.37 above) ad loc.

51. Drusus, as many note, had made no such concessions to quell his mutiny (e.g. Shotter [n.37 above], 198).

52. See Goodyear (n.2 above) ad loc. on the textual problems throughout chapter 41.1.

53. Furneaux (n.37 above) took the verb literally, but Goodyear (n.2 above) and Koestermann (n.8 above) ad loc. are more suspicious. If in fact Furneaux is right, then the staging would be Germanicus’ rather than Tacitus’.

54. The use of paruulum is of course reminiscent of the staginess of Dido’s speech (Aen. 4.328; thanks to the reader for this journal for the reminder).

55. On the rhetorical nature of this topos and its emotionally arousing qualities, see Paul, G.M., ‘Urbs Capta: Sketch of an Ancient Literary Motif’, Phoenix 36 (1982), 144–55CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 144 and 152; Rossi, A., ‘The Fall of Troy: Between Tradition and Genre’, in D.S. Levene & D.P. Nelis (eds.), Clio and the Poets: Augustan Poetry and the Traditions of Ancient Historiography (Leiden 2002), 231–51Google Scholar (discussing Polybius’ criticisms at 2.56.7–10 of Phylarchus for his treatment of the subject); Ziolkowski, A., ‘Urbs direpta, or How the Romans Sacked Cities’, in J. Rich & G. Shipley (eds.), War and Society in the Roman World (London 1993), 69–91Google Scholar; and, above all, Quintilian 8.3.67–68. For examples, see Thuc 7.75, Livy 1.29, 2.33.8, and Caesar BC 2.7.3. Whether it is originally tragic (Rossi op. cit. 234) or oratorical, it is very much at home in history.

56. On the blurring of historical and tragic writing, particularly in the Silver Age, see Santoro L’Hoir (n.2 above), 2.

57. As Koestermann (n.8 above) notes, the first question is in iambic dimeter, suggesting dramatic poetry.

58. Recognition of the emotive power of the family is not by any means restricted to Germanicus, but Tacitus presents him and Agrippina as masters in its use: even the description of Gaius’ boots, which earn him the nickname Caligula, lays stress on the intended effect on the soldiers; he wears them plerumque ad concilianda uulgi studia (‘for the most part out of a desire to appeal to the crowd’, 1.41.1). See too Ann. 3.1, when Agrippina returns to Italy with Germanicus’ children and ashes, to great effect among the mourning crowd, most of whom are militares who had served under her husband (Shumate [n.2 above], 373).

59. Koestermann (n.8 above) and Goodyear (n.2 above) well note that the departure of women and children ought to have been surreptitious if it were truly intended as a precautionary measure, and so judge the entire episode staged (ad 1.41). Tacitus’ regular portrait of Germanicus as extravagant renders it difficult to determine which of them is responsible for the gesture; as Koestermann notes ad loc., the soldiers’ upcoming change of heart is unexpected, and so Tacitus must lay stress on its dramatic nature. Here, as often, our other sources differ sharply in tone, but not necessarily substance; cf. Dio 57.5.6–7, and Goodyear ad 1.40.4 for a discussion of the relative plausibility of each historian’s explanations for the alteration in the soldiers’ behaviour.

60. The commentators all note ad loc. that the verb pietur suggests that Germanicus views himself as ‘a kind of blood-sacrifice’ (see e.g. Miller [n.9 above] ad loc.); this further adds to the heightened emotionality of his tone.

61. See Pomeroy (n.2 above), 190f., on Tacitus’ focus in the Histories on ‘defining the populace of Roma as spectators’ and its importance in re-establishing a hierarchical relationship. It is, as often, difficult to separate in Germanicus’ speech the rhetorical elements from the tragic; history itself is a profoundly rhetorical (and theatrical) genre. The speech itself derives from Scipio’s similar speech to his mutinous soldiers in Livy 28.27, but Koestermann (n.8 above) ad loc. well notes the significant differences in tone between the two.

62. On the staging of this scene, see V.E. Pagán, ‘Beyond Teutoberg: Transgression and Transformation in Tacitus Annates 1.61–2’, CP 94 (1999), 302–20, at 312.

63. See Koestermann (n.8 above) ad loc. for the translation.

64. As E. Manolaraki reminds me, macula is likely to have religious overtones, and so may represent an attempt by Germanicus to capitalise on the soldiers’ superstitions; compare Hist. 1.37, when Otho plays to the soldiers’ anger against Galba (castra…maculata, ‘stained camp’).

65. Koestermann (n.8 above) ad loc. well notes the incongruity in tone between Germanicus’ pathetic speech and his manipulative conclusion.

66. According to Chrissanthos (n.6 above), passim, mutinous soldiers of the Republic were generally either not punished, or the general punished a representative (and small) group of ringleaders. The trend in the Empire seems to be a gradual move toward having the soldiers punish themselves, but Seager (n.45 above), 69, finds this abdication of responsibility to be the most discreditable of Germanicus’ many questionable acts.

67. As Goodyear (n.2 above) notes, Germanicus’ actions ‘invite some comment’; his own suggestion is that perhaps Germanicus is not secure in his control of the army, so must allow them their head. But, as he also notes, this does not square well with their wish for him to punish them (1.44.1). At the very least, ‘we can hardly acquit him of grave dereliction of responsibilities properly his’ (ad loc.). Rutland, L.W., ‘The Tacitean Germanicus: Suggestions for a Re-Evaluation’, RhM 130 (1987), 153–64Google Scholar, at 155 and 158, well observes that, whatever he may claim later, the soldiers clearly understood Germanicus’ wishes in the matter, and sees him as either worryingly eager to preserve his good reputation or culpably ignorant of military affairs; see too Lucas, J., Les obsessions de Tacite (Leiden 1974), 77–80Google Scholar, on Germanicus’ hypocrisy in delegating unpleasant tasks to his subordinates.

68. The commentators note the difficulty of this word, unattested elsewhere in this meaning (Seiler [n.15 above], 62); Goodyear (n.2 above) ad loc. suggests that it means centurionum recensio, but notes that this is not good Latin; Val. Max. 3.2.23 seems to use the word in a meaning precisely opposite, to signify promotion to the rank of centurion. More troubling than the Latin, however, is the event itself; see Seager (n.45 above), 69. Watson, G.R., The Roman Soldier (Ithaca 1969), 87f.Google Scholar, notes that the election of centurions is very rarely done by the soldiers themselves, and for good reason: promotion to this rank not only put a man into the officer class, but was surely a key method for generals to form a bond with their soldiers. Everts (n.2 above), 46, and Koestermann (n.8 above) ad loc. both see the centurionatus as a clear sign that Germanicus has very limited authority.

69. Pelling (n.22 above), 64, and Rutland (n.67 above), 158, who finds it indicative of ‘a nature dangerously inclined to shirk responsibility in a time of crisis’. Much more regular is the punishment meted out by Caesar to his mutinous soldiers (Appian BC 2.47.191–5), or by Otho’s father, Suet. Otho 1.2 (for soldiers who have killed their officers).

70. Goodyear (n.2 above) ad loc.

71. On the infamia of actors, see Greenidge, A.H.J., Infamia: Its Place in Roman Public and Private Law (Oxford 1894), 7 and 124Google Scholar, and Dupont (n.2 above), 95–98.

72. Campbell (n.8 above), 172.

73. As Woodman (n. 16 above), 218, notes, this second letter also ‘goes wrong’. Marsh, F.B., The Reign of Tiberius (Oxford 1931), 56Google Scholar, suggests that Germanicus should have resorted to the army on the upper Rhine at a much earlier stage, but it is not clear from Tacitus’ narrative whether they were sufficiently loyal to make this a real possibility.

74. There is much irony in Germanicus’ writing a letter hoping to avoid mass slaughter which in fact effects mass slaughter. Ross (n.40 above), 217f., suggests that Tacitus is drawing a contrast between Drusus’ ‘harshness’, which resulted in moderate punishment, and Germanicus’ ‘mildness’, which looks much like extreme bloodthirstiness. On Germanicus’ habit of having things done by others, see Rutland (n.67 above), passim; Ross suggests that here it makes Germanicus similar to Tiberius (219).

75. See Williams (n.11 above), 56–60, for the notion that all of this is not only deliberate on Germanicus’ part, but designed to depict his superiority to Drusus in achieving his aims.

76. Many note the peculiar phrasing here: the cupido of the soldiers is the subject of the sentence, and their ardour enflames Germanicus (Woodman [n.16 above], 228 with n.). But Germanicus may be more manipulative than this: just as he ‘allowed’ the soldiers to punish, now he ‘allows’ them to think of fighting.

77. Cf. Shorter (n.37 above), 117, on bellica Germanici gloria in Ann. 1.52 as anything but benign.

78. On Tiberius’ policy as correct, whatever Tacitus says about it, see Timpe, D., Der Triumph des Germanicus: Untersuchungen zu den Feldzugen der Jahre 14–16 n. Chr. in Germanien (Bonn 1968Google Scholar), passim, with Wellesley’s, K. review, JRS 59 (1969), 277fGoogle Scholar.

79. Cf. Rutland (n.63 above) passim.

80. Germanicus’ acts thereafter do not palliate the concern: Seager (n.45 above), 78–86, is probably the most judicious, blaming the uncomfortable situation of the Rhine legions in 15, but not in 16, on Germanicus; he feels that Germanicus learned from his experiences. Furaeaux (n.37 above), 138, says that Germanicus’ ‘chief recorded achievements are those of mere ravage and massacre, or ostentatious and futile obsequies to the remains of those who fell with Varus, or at best barren victories in the field, balanced by disastrous retreats’. In an article important to the rehabilitation of Tiberius, Shotter (n.37 above), 194, suggests that much of the unpleasantness between the two men may have been invented to denigrate Tiberius. On the question of Germanicus’ reception in the historical tradition, see Goodyear (n.2 above), 30f. and 239f., and Hurley (n.19 above), 330.

81. Cf. Dupont (n.2 above), 24, 29f., and passim; Shumate (n.2 above), 380.

82. Suetonius provides evidence of anxiety about senatorial performance: senators were forbidden from performing at the same time as they were allocated the front rows at the theatre; while they were not to be the spectacle, much of their status derives from being a spectacle (Diu. Aug. 43). Shumate (n.2 above), 365, contends that Tacitus’ use of theatrical imagery ‘expresses his view of the unhealthy long-term effects on individuals and on society of practising and being exposed to that duplicity’. For other upper-class attitudes toward the theatre, see Wistrand, M., Entertainment and Violence in Ancient Rome: The Attitudes of Roman Writers of the First Century A.D. (Göteborg 1992), 30–40Google Scholar, and, on Tacitus, 36–48, but he notes that it is often difficult to separate perceptions of gladiators, the theatre and the circus (9). See Pomeroy (n.2 above), 172–75, on the ways Roman life was always lived in the spotlight, and Boesche, R., ‘The Politics of Pretence: Tacitus and the Political Theory of Despotism’, HPTh 8 (1987), 189–210Google Scholar, at 206f., on the performativity inherent in Roman imperial relationships (dated to the time of Nero, but with instances under Tiberius). Greenidge (n.71 above), 68–70, conveniently compiles the evidence for upper-class actors; stage appearance was apparently at first a punishment (see Levick, B., ‘The Senatus Consultum from Larinum’, JRS 73 [1983], 97–115Google Scholar, on the senatusconsultum of 19), but later in the empire became more regular. Perhaps it was precisely the explicit acknowledgement of role-playing that appealed to the upper classes.

83 See Von Fritz, K., ‘Tacitus, Agricola, Domitian, and the Problem of the Principate’, CP 52 (1957), 73–97Google Scholar, at 80f., on the ‘inherent vices of the system’.

84. As many also note, Tacitus’ decision to write about later historical events before earlier ones involves him and his reader in a series of dizzying connections between recent history (e.g. in the year 97 CE, when Nerva adopted Trajan because of army pressure), older history (69 CE), and ‘ancient’ history (14 CE).

85. Cf. Campbell (n.8 above), 42f.

86. See Keitel, E., ‘Principate and Civil War in the Annals of Tacitus’, AJP 105 (1984), 306–25Google Scholar, at 318 n.27, on the ways Tacitus connects the parts of Book 1 by suggesting similarities between greedy soldiers and greedy nobiles; my own reading would connect the ‘playacting’ in the senate upon Tiberius’ accession (by both senators and Tiberius himself, according to Tacitus) with the soldiers’ later theatrics and with the disturbances involving actual actors in Rome.

87. See Mellor (n.2 above), 75, on the importance of Germanicus’ own grandfather (the alsoflamboyant Antony) to Tacitus’ characterisation of him, and 75f. on Germanicus as similar in some ways to Caligula and Nero. Ross (n.40 above), 222 and 225, suggests that Tacitus portrays Germanicus as no different from Tiberius, and that he sees both Julians and Claudians as hopelessly corrupt. Finally, Versnel, H.S., ‘Destruction, Devotio, and Despair in a Situation of Anomy: The Mourning for Germanicus in Triple Perspective’, in Perennitas: Studi in Onore di Angelo Brelich (Rome 1980), 541–618Google Scholar, suggests that Germanicus’ character renders him far more comprehensible as the father of Gaius than the son of Drusus (545), and sees Antony as key to understanding the historical Germanicus’ travels in Egypt (ibid. n.17).