Abstract

Between the first eight lines of Propertius 3.7, addressed to ‘pecunia’, and the lover's farewell couplet to Aquilo, the narration of Paetus′ shipwreck and death has first bewildered and then inspired generations of readers either to defend the basic order of verses given in the manuscripts or to create a more satisfactory arrangement through transposition. To some, the inherited poem presents a catastrophe equal to Paetus′ own dismemberment: Aquilo blew the pages around, a scribe playing Neptune took pleasure in his own power to change, while the uncontrollable seas of error scattered couplets far and wide and altered the shape of words and letters. To others, the textual problems of 3.7 can be explained with appeals to parallels or to Propertius′ stylistic intentions