Nephele

Nope, but getting warmer. -- Nephele

No, sorry. Try a country to the west. -- Nephele

Making it a wonderful name for a character out of the Asterix books, such as the memorable Roman centurion, "Spurius Brontosaurus". Reading "dratsab" anagrammatically may tell you what the child was, too: "sad brat". -- Nephele

Klingan, your nomen gentilicium is extremely rare -- usually seen in the form of a cognomen. As "Saturnius" you are identified as a descendant of the god Saturnus. Your cognomen of "Glabrio" honors the brave consul Manius Acilius Glabrio, who was commanded by Emperor Domitian to enter the arena and fight a lion. (A somewhat bigger cat than the one pictured as your avatar.) Your praenomen is "Gaius" (abbreviated as "G.") and your full Roman name is... G. Saturnius Glabrio (atrkPi A.S. glgiKnrbo -kkp +uus) -- Nephele

Considering that Claudius couldn't find it in his heart to spare the infant daughter of his first wife, Plautia Urgulanilla, fathered by Claudius' freedman and born five months after Claudius had already divorced Urgulanilla, does tend to make me doubt that Claudius might have been forgiving of Messalina's indiscretions. Not to mix history with fiction, but I just have to say that I find Claudius' infanticide ironic when taken in context of the television series I, Claudius. In one scene we find Livia complaining to Augustus about young Claudius, saying: "That child should have been exposed at birth!" To which Augustus replies something to the effect: "Yes, well fortunately we don't do that sort of thing anymore." Lucky for Claudius. Not so lucky for Urgulanilla's child. EDIT: Perhaps "infanticide" was too strong a word. Upon re-reading Suetonius, I see that Claudius merely ordered the child (after he had begun to raise her) "to be cast out naked at her mother's door and disowned." -- Nephele

Hope you don't mind, Klingan, but I think I'm going to have to remove one or two middle names in order to work on this, as your entire scramble is a bit long to work with. Also, should there be a "c" in that first scramble of yours? Thanks! -- Nephele

It's evocative of mystery, isn't it? I just want to step into that picture and take a stroll down that road, and see what adventure befalls me. -- Nephele

28th GO old bean, any emissaries will be entertained by endless tea and crumpets. Thank goodness you put that last item in the plural, Pertinax. Hahahaha! G.O. is a married man, so I believe he might pass on the crumpet! -- Nephele

Thank you, oh noble Pater Arcanae! Yes, good points, Skarr. While I imagine that author Caroline Lawrence's editors keep a sharp eye open for any scenes in her manuscripts that might seem a bit too sexual for a children's series, Caroline nevertheless does manage to slip in enough scenes to "keep it real" (as one says on the street). In addition to the line (mentioned earlier) in which a father tells his daughter that the 11-year-old slave girl on the block may be sold to serve as some man's "wife", there is also a scene in one book where it is casually mentioned that the young protagonist's sea-faring father and his shipmates have gone "for a men's night out at the sanctuary of Aphrodite up on the Acrocorinth." (Classicists reading this will smile as they recall Strabo's account of the cult prostitutes of Corinth's temple to Aphrodite.) And, there is another scene in which the young protagonist and her three friends, upon embarking on a sea voyage, are given good luck amulets to be worn that are bronze pendants in the shape of small penises -- an opportunity for the author not only to instruct her young readers in the curious customs of the ancient Romans, but also to inject a bit of humor with the resulting juvenile hilarity. Not that there's anything wrong with a bit of juvenile hilarity -- these are, after all, books intended for children. As any good teacher knows (and I've no doubt that Caroline Lawrence was an excellent primary school Latin teacher before becoming an author), children don't soon forget lessons that entertain as well as enlighten. -- Nephele

Aw, thank you! Since that one I won fair and square (not like the previous one ) I'll take my turn this time. This may be a difficult one, so I'll provide a clue. It's a locale mentioned in The Roman Mysteries. -- Nephele

Segestan, you are a simple soldier. Although you belong to no notable gens, you nevertheless proudly bear the name "Andronicus" that was passed down to you by your Greek ancestors who came to Rome generations ago. Your parents gave you the Roman praenomen of "Lucius" (abbreviated with an "L."), and your comrades in arms gave you the agnomen of "Magnus" in honor of your greatness on the battlefield. Your full Roman name is... L. Andronicus Magnus (ynaaoLngicd n rMRrh -yrrh +usus) You asked "Why are there hidden names from the latin?" Because I say so, that's why. -- Nephele

The small Roman amphitheatre in Paris, originally occupying the old Roman town of Lutetia? -- Nephele

Noooo, not fair! That wasn't just a clue you left there -- that was a gift! Hahahaha! You know I like to play with maps! Do another one, Neil. -- Nephele

The Amphitheatre at Capua? If I'm right, I don't get credit for it. Because I cheated by looking at the latitude and longitude at the bottom of your picture. Not sure if I figured out the coordinates correctly, though. -- Nephele

Ooo, is this Northern Neil's creation? The one that he had pictured in the gallery? How cool! Tonight, in celebration of the God Consul's temple, I shall dress in nothing but garlands, hoist a goblet of wine in honor of R. Cornelius Hadrianus a.k.a. Northern 'Neilius, and dance like a Maenad. I think 'Neilius deserves some sort of special title -- like Artifex Architecturae (which I believe means "Skilled Master of Architecture" -- but I would want Andrew Dalby to check my Latin). -- Nephele

Omega, considering that your given name is Patrick, it seems only fitting that you should belong to a patrician gens. And not just any patrician gens, but "one of the most ancient and celebrated of the patrician gentes at Rome" -- the Manlia gens. Of course, coming from such an illustrious gens has made your particular branch of the family somewhat big-headed, and so you inherited the cognomen of "Capito" (meaning "big head"). Your praenomen is "Gaius", abbreviated with a "C." Your full Roman name is... C. Manlius Capito (Patrick McClain -rck +uso) Welcome to UNRV! -- Nephele

Was that a notation, or part of the child's name? I understand that if a person were hanged, S.P.S. (Suspensus Per Collum - Hanged by the Neck) was appended to his name? Thank you, Augusta. I can't begin to tell you (and others participating in this thread) how much I'm gratified to see such interest in Roman nomenclature. As for the praenomen of "Spurius"... Yes, the most popularly accepted origin of that praenomen is as you suggested -- that the name literally means "born out of wedlock", taken directly from the Latin word spurius meaning "illegitimate; false", and its etymology can be traced back to Etruscan origin. Considering that "Spurius" is among those 17 most commonly encountered praenomina, one might wonder why so many Roman families, particularly the highborn, would be keen to advertise such a social stigma through the name given to their son. The most likely explanation is that "Spurius" as a name had, since the Regal period, lost its literal meaning in much the same way that other praenomina (from the top 17 in use) such as "Quintus", "Sextus", and "Decimus" no longer literally meant that these sons were the fifth, sixth and tenth in order of birth in their families. G.O., I believe the "spurius" in the English baptismal registers that Augusta mentioned were merely notations and not actually part of the child's name. In English parish registers of the 17th and 18th centuries, one of the most commonly encountered notations for an illegitimate birth is "base begot", as many genealogists will tell you. -- Nephele

Margaret married James IV of Scotland. Right, that I knew. But I was pretty certain that she never figured into Portugal's politics in any way -- and certainly didn't murder the king of Portugal. Last week's episode of The Tudors seems to have been a bit of a stretch, to say the least. -- Nephele

I know. The episodes thus far in this "second half" of the final season have been pretty disappointing -- but I still tune in because I'm obsessed with the Soprano family dynamics and I've just got to see how this whole thing plays out in the end. -- Nephele

You've got it, GPM. "Ahenobarbus" means "bronze-colored beard". While the cognomen of "Ahenobarbus" became hereditary, we don't know if the hair color as well was inherited by every future generation of that family. Particularly since the first Ahenobarbus received his name in a legendary manner, as described by Plutarch in The Life of Aemilius: "And when the Romans had conquered the Tarquins, who had taken the field against them with the Latins, two tall and beautiful men were seen at Rome a little while after, who brought direct tidings from the army. These were conjectured to be the Dioscuri. The first man who met them in front of the spring in the forum, where they were cooling their horses, which were reeking with sweat, was amazed at their report of the victory. Then, we are told, they touched his beard with their hands, quietly smiling the while, and the hair of it was changed at once from black to red, a circumstance which gave credence to their story, and fixed upon the man the surname of Ahenobarbus, that is to say, Bronze-beard." Right, G.O., Octavius/Augustus was adopted into the family of Gaius Julius Caesar. And, as was the custom, he assumed the praenomen, nomen gentilicium, and cognomen of his adoptive father, while retaining his original nomen gentilicium of "Octavius" in the adoptive form: "Octavianus". The same example of adoption can be seen with the father-in-law of Augustus (and father of Livia), who was originally a Claudius, and when he was adopted into the family of the Livii, he took the name of his adoptive father and added "Claudianus" to it, becoming Marcus Livius Drusus Claudianus. Slaves, upon manumission, also assumed the praenomen and nomen gentilicium of their former masters -- except slaves would retain their original names as cognomina in the original form, and not add the adoptive "anus" suffix to their name. As in the case of Marcus Tullius Tiro, freedman of Marcus Tullius Cicero. Thank you, Klingan! What can I say? Names are my game. Now go get your Hidden Roman Name -- Nephele

Like you, Valentino, I'm hungry for any depiction of Rome on my teevee. But I'm especially looking forward to seeing The Roman Mysteries come to life on the screen because Caroline Lawrence, classicist and Latin teacher, has taken a great deal of care with the historical events that she portrays in her series of children's novels. I can't wait to see what they do with Pliny the Elder, as he figures prominently in Caroline's Secrets of Vesuvius. The scene with Pliny's death on the beach (in her novel) is especially poignant. I hope the television series also includes Caroline's novel The Gladiators from Capua, as the scenes she wrote depicting the inaugural gladiatorial games of the Flavian Amphitheater in Rome were intriguing. She drew upon the writings of Martial, to detail not only the various, creative "performances" involving the public execution of criminals (Caroline's books are often delightfully bloodthirsty), but she also included a description of the lottery games that were provided as additional entertainment for the attending audience. Everybody in the U.K., tune in to The Roman Mysteries every Tuesday at 4:30 on BBC1, beginning May 8th! I'm sure you'll find it a treat! -- Nephele

Thank you, GPM! Ah, now you're talking my language! Actually, it's not that these praenomina were exclusive to those gentes you named, but rather that those gentes you named tended to limit themselves to these particular praenomina. "Appius" is perhaps the most restricted of the commonly seen praenomina, but it can nevertheless be found in the following gentes in addition to the Claudii: the Annii, Modii, Popidii, and Iunii. In fact, there is a consul listed for the year 108 C.E. by the name of Appius Annius Trebonius Gallus. "Decimus" and "Tiberius" were fairly common praenomina, and a perusal of the list of consuls will show that these praenomina were in use by other gentes. Mamercus, though, is one of the truly rare praenomina, of Oscan origin. And, yes, you're right that it appears possibly to have been exclusive to the Aemilii, and not just that the Aemilii limited themselves to this praenomen. Also, from an Oscan praenomen it eventually passed into Latin as a cognomen (as both "Mamercus" and "Mamercinus"), also used by the Aemilii. To answer your question, there are a few other extremely rare praenomina which most likely were exclusive to certain gentes, such as "Sertor", used by the Mimesii. But even the extremely rare praenomina weren't always exclusive to specific gentes. One other gens that tended to limit themselves to particular praenomina, in addition to the Cornelii that I named in my article, were the Domitii, with nearly all members being named either "Gnaeus" or "Lucius". -- Nephele

Hahahaha! Yes, the Duke was almost as hawt as Henry. (Although I know it was the Princess's charms that held your interest, Ursus.) I've been recording The Tudors, and I only just today got around to watching last week's episode. Will probably see tonight's episode later, as well. The Sopranos, on the other hand, get priority viewing tonight. -- Nephele

****SPOILER ALERT**** Does anyone else think that last week's episode, with Henry's sister Margaret, marrying the King of Portugal, hoping that the old goat will die, and then helping him along with a pillow over the face seemed a bit... Over the top? Not to mention the torrid affair Maggie had on the way to her wedding, when she got shtupped on the ship. But... wasn't it Henry's other sister, Mary who married an old goat of a king -- and in France, not Portugal? Did Margaret ever have anything to do with Portugal? Did she even ever go to Portugal? -- Nephele

Thank you, G.O. Yes, the "-ianus" suffix was applied to the original nomen gentilicium of the adoptee, which then served as the adoptee's new or additional cognomen upon adoption into his new gens. But this custom was in practice throughout the Republic, and nothing new or becoming more prevalent during the Principate. -- Nephele