16. The Kinyradai of Paphos

Evidence from and relating to Paphos especially lets us pick up the thread of Kinyras’ cult in the Classical period, and follow it down until later antiquity. Here the two broad patterns explored above—the social and political manipulation of Kinyras as a cultural icon, and the maintenance of his ancient role as a hieratic servant of the goddess—overlap most fully. And ultimately Paphian traditions, preserved at the sanctuary itself, may help us track Kinyras back to his mainland origin(s).

Tacitus and the Memories of the Paphian Priesthood

In 69 CE, the future Roman emperor Titus, on his way to Judaea to carry out the siege of Jerusalem for his father Vespasian, stopped at Paphos to consult with the sanctuary’s divination-priest about his own career prospects (the wise Sostratos gave a positive forecast). [1] Tacitus, in mentioning this voyage, includes a digression on the history of this most famous cult-site of Aphrodite:
There is an ancient tradition (vetus memoria) that Aerias was the founder of the temple, although some maintain that this was the name of the goddess herself [i.e. *Aeria]. A more recent report (fama recentior) holds that the temple was consecrated by Cinyras, and the goddess herself, after being born in the sea, was driven here; but that the art and science of divination was imported, and the Cilician Tamiras introduced it; and that it was so arranged that the descendants of each family would direct the rituals. Before too long, however, the foreign line gave up the science which it had itself brought in, so that the royal line [sc. of Cinyras] might not be without some distinction over the newcomers: only the Kinyrad priest is consulted. [2]
In the Annals, Tacitus again states that Aerias first built the Paphian temple, which was held to be the island’s oldest. Aerias, he says, was the father of Amathus, who had gone on to consecrate the temple to “Amathusian Venus.” Third in age was the temple to Jupiter at Salamis, established by Teukros. [3]
This scheme for the Cypriot temples, in which Paphos holds pride of place both chronologically and (vis-à-vis Amathous) by mythical genealogy, belongs to Tacitus’ catalogue of Greek sanctuaries that in 22 CE had to defend their authenticity before Tiberius, who was investigating rampant abuses in the granting of asylum. To be ‘reaccredited’, the various states were required to send “charters and ambassadors” to establish their legitimacy; and many, according to Tacitus, “put their trust in ancient superstitions.” [4] The emperor upheld the status of all three Cypriot sanctuaries, and the citizens of Paphos erected a stele proclaiming their gratitude and hailing Tiberius their savior. [5] The outcome, for Paphos at least, was probably a foregone conclusion, since this was the provincial seat of the emperor cult, [6] and the Julio-Claudians traced their descent from Venus herself. The latter point had been emphasized by the Community of Cyprus in their loyalty oath to Tiberius upon his accession just eight years earlier (14 CE)—the same occasion on which they invoked “Our Kenyristḗs Apollo.” [7]
When the evidence of the Histories and the Annals is combined, and one recognizes the leading role enjoyed by Paphos in the historical construction—which as it happens is broadly correct—it becomes clear that Tacitus’ material derives substantially from the Paphian priesthood itself. It is a précis—perhaps even a partial transcription—of their official report before the investigating tribunal, available to the historian through senate archives. [8] We are therefore dealing with a specifically Paphian understanding of Kinyras. [9]
Some of what Tacitus relays is familiar from other sources, in particular Kinyras’ association with kingship, divinatory arts, and of course the goddess and her sanctuary. [10] The details of Aerias and Tamiras, however, are quite unparalleled.
‘Aerias’ permits two interpretations. Most scholars have looked to Lat. aer, aeris (‘air’, from Gk. aḗr, aérοs), seeking a correspondence with Gk. Ouránios or Ouranós. [11] This would make him a sky- or storm-god like Baal or Zeus, and a male counterpart to Aphrodite Ourania, as later Greek sources often called the goddess when acknowledging her NE background. [12] Because Tacitus adds that “certain people consider this the name of the goddess herself” (that is, *Aeria), [13] some scholars dismiss Aerias as a misunderstanding or a fiction “assez tardif”—that is, a back-construction from Ourania. [14] Of course, the pattern of ‘Mr. and Mrs. Sky’ has ancient precedents in the Near East, beginning with Sumerian Anu and Inanna. [15] And it is generally recognized that this pattern is reflected in the coupling of Zeus and Dione, who appear unexpectedly as Aphrodite’s parents in Iliad five—a book containing several other unusual features of a Cypriot cast. [16]
Nevertheless, I prefer the alternative proposal to connect Aerias and *Aeria with Lat. aes, aeris, ‘copper’ or ‘bronze’. [17] This would arise readily from reinterpretation of the goddess’s epithets Kýpris and Kypría, since the adjective kýprios, passing into Lat. as cyprius, was commonly applied to copper by the time in question (Lat. cyprium aes or just cyprium, whence Eng. ‘copper’). [18] While the etymology itself would be late, it would have been grounded in ancient and accurate traditions about the central importance of copper to the island—which was itself sometimes called aerosa for just this reason. [19] Its key early role in the cult of the goddess herself, we saw, is vividly illustrated by the Bomford Goddess, who has a close male counterpart in the Ingot God; and this coupling may be reflected in Aphrodite’s epithet Kythéreia, which many would see as a female counterpart to Kothar, the Syro-Levantine craftsman-metals god. [20] This latter idea finds compelling independent support in ps.-Meliton, who knew a myth of ‘Hephaistos’ (i.e. a metals god) controlling Cyprus before the intervention of a Kauthar-Kinyras figure (see Chapter 19). Admittedly, it would be quite astonishing for the Paphian priests of the Roman era to have maintained an “ancient memory” of a LBA metal-god. But Aphrodite’s great sanctuary at Paphos, if anywhere on the island, will have been a locus of early oral traditions, and may even have maintained written records from the LBA into the IA. [21]
Tamiras is equally obscure. [22] Hesykhiοs contains an entry for Tamirádai, defined as “certain priests in Cyprus.” [23] Possibly the lexicographer depends solely on Tacitus, but note that the plural form is not found in the historian himself, nor is Paphos specified. It is not clear from either source whether these Tamiradai were still active, but it sounds as if not.
Several etymologies, none entirely convincing, have been proposed for the Tamiradai. Movers suggested a link with Thymarete, the daughter of Pygmalion whom Kinyras married after emigrating from Cilicia in one tradition (if so, the named has obviously been Hellenized). [24] The syllabic sequence Tu-mi-ra, which occurs in an Eteocypriot inscription from Amathous and may be a DN, has been thought relevant. [25] Others point to the Hebrew tamar, ‘date-palm’, and suggest a connection with Sacred-Tree cult both on the island and in the Levant. [26] One might then think of the harper who sings before the sacred tree on the bronze stand discussed above. [27] But these vague ideas do not account for the special Cilician connection of the Tamiradai. A seventh-century Phoenician inscription from Cebel Ires Daği, in Rough Cilicia, contains the consonantal sequence TMRS, apparently a TN; this has seemed promising, but gives little purchase. [28] Slightly more tangible is a proposed connection with dammara-, a word of perhaps Luwian or Hurrian origin, which in Hittite sources designates temple-personnel, both male and female, charged with the care of grain; but the absence of overlapping function with the Tamiradai remains problematic. [29]
A final possibility is that Tamiras is somehow cognate with Thamyris/Thamyras. [30] We have seen that a cultic group known as Thamyrists (Thamyríddontes) was active in fourth-century Thespiai (Boeotia), evidently tracing their descent from the musician who in Homer’s hands was blinded by the Muses. [31] Unfortunately, their function remains largely obscure, frustrating comparison with the entrails-inspection of the Tamiradai. The hypothesis would offer a quite exact parallel to the Kinyradai in their self-presentation as descendants of a legendary lyrist. It would remain to explain how an evidently Aeolic lyre-tradition might find a cognate in early Cilicia and Cyprus. Still, an EIA Aegean/Achaean presence in Cilicia now seems beyond doubt. [32] Note that a further tradition of royal priesthood links Cilicia and Cyprus: the Salaminian lineage was implicated in a local Cilician tradition, whereby Ajax son of Teukros founded a dynasty and hereditary priesthood at Olbe. [33] There is also the term akhaiománteis—‘Achaean priests’ or ‘Achaean prophets’—defined by Hesykhiοs as “those who hold the sacred office of the gods in Cyprus.” [34] The word connotes an ultimately extra-Cypriot origin, and thus potentially deep antiquity; unattested in the island’s inscriptions, it may have been long obsolete by the Classical period. [35] It is therefore worth considering whether the Tamiradai represent some reflection, at the hieratic level, of a cultural encounter between Aegean immigrants and a Paphian religious and royal ‘establishment’ in the twelfth and/or eleventh centuries, with an older Kinyrad ideology eventually prevailing. [36] We saw a comparable duality in the competing myths that attributed the foundation of Paphos to either Kinyras or Agapenor, where again it was the Kinyrad apparatus that maintained the upper hand. [37]
The composite, layered nature of the Paphian priests’ ‘memories’ is striking. It is crucial, I believe, that Kinyras was presented as a secondary stratum by the priests themselves. The Paphians may be suspected of being motivated in part by a desire to surpass the other Cypriot sanctuaries in a bid for antiquity; for while the Amathousians obviously attributed to ‘Amathous’ the foundation of their temple in reporting to the Roman senate, the Paphians advanced Aerias as the father of Amathous. [38] Now ‘Amathousa’ is also found in some sources as the mother of Kinyras. [39] If the Amathousians placed any emphasis on this point, Kinyras would not have given the Paphians the oldest claim. Nor would traditions about Agapenor. [40]
Whatever the Paphian priests’ motivation or basis for promoting Aerias, their profession that Kinyras was a relative ‘latecomer’ must be essentially correct, if Kinyras is rooted in a Divine Lyre of mainland origin(s). This should be added to other traditions that connect Kinyras variously with Byblos, Syria/Assyria, Cilicia, and perhaps Sidon (see further Part Three). [41]

Nikokles and the Kinyrad Legacy

Of the ancient kings of Paphos, twelve are known by name, the earliest in the Esarhaddon prism inscription (N-A, 673/672 BCE). [42] Archaic statuary shows the Paphian kings in priestly costume, a clear enough indication that they already served as high priests in the seventh century (Figure 43). [43] This assumption accords well with the religious conservatism implied by the Classical inscriptions, in which one finds the formula “King of Paphos and Priest of the Queen”—using an old Mycenaean royal title for the goddess (Wánassa or Ánassa). [44] Such a pairing of king and goddess, we have seen, is a royal posture of deep antiquity, attested already in third-millennium Mesopotamia. That this was a LBA survival at Paphos, rather than an IA innovation, is supported by Astarte’s role as royal protectress at Ugarit and elsewhere (Chapter 15). The same idea endured among the IA Phoenician kings: those of Sidon and Tyre served as priests of the goddess, while tenth-century Byblian inscriptions portray the goddess as kingmaker and guarantor of the ruler’s life and power. [45]
franklin fig43
Figure 43. Limestone head of Kinyrad king, seventh century. Palaepaphos KA 730. Drawn from Maier 1989:378 fig. 40.1.
This environment makes it easy to believe that the Kinyrad identity of the royal house was equally traditional. For the fifth century, we have seen, it is corroborated by Pindar, with Kinyras as “the beloved priest of Aphrodite.” [46] It has been suggested that Homer’s brief portrait of Kinyras as a Great King who sends a friendship gift to Agamemnon is evidence that he had not yet taken on a hieratic dimension. [47] But the perception of Kinyras could naturally have been different in and out of Cyprus, and from one genre to the next. Homer’s context of royal gift-exchange would not have especially encouraged the inclusion of priestly detail. On the other hand, as I have argued elsewhere, Kinyras was probably Aphrodite’s agent in a lost branch of epic that dealt with the heroic wanderings of Paris and Helen in the eastern Mediterranean. [48]
In the current state of evidence, it is only the city’s last king, Nikokles II (died ca. 306), for whom we have any detailed information, including on-the-ground epigraphic evidence of the Kinyrad legacy.
That Nikokles was an energetic and ambitious ruler is shown by a little corpus of royal inscriptions documenting an impressive building program. [49] He evidently (re)founded and presumably walled Nea Paphos, the harbor of which could accommodate a large fleet. [50] He also built a monumental new temple to Artemis Agrotéra (‘The Huntress’); [51] expanded an existing shrine to Hera; [52] consecrated an oracular hypogeum to Apollo Hylátēs; [53] and probably constructed defensive walls around Old Paphos in the turmoil that followed the death of Alexander. [54]
This evidence is clear “proof of an explicit cultural and religious policy of the king.” [55] One thrust of Nikokles’ program, with its building projects on behalf of Olympian gods, was probably to present himself as ‘more Greek’ than his predecessors. [56] Inscriptions in the old Paphian syllabary were now complemented by alphabetic and digraphic texts. [57] J. Mlynarczyk has suggested that Apollo was made the father of Kinyras at this time, integrating the Paphian royal line into a Panhellenic framework. [58] The goal would be, presumably, to anchor his dynasty more firmly in ‘international divinity’, since Kinyras, though he must have remained numinous on Cyprus itself, especially at Paphos, was probably not so recognized beyond the island. J.-P. Cayla would also attribute Apollo’s epithet Kenyristḗs to Nikokles, comparing the king’s cultivation of Apollo Hylátēs. [59] Alternatively, the title, which effectively absorbs Kinyras, may be a theological revision deriving from the Ptolemaic takeover of the royal cult (see below).
Nikokles’ modernizing agenda notwithstanding, his inscriptions show clearly that he maintained the ancient customs of his house—presiding over the state cult as “Priest of the Queen,” and ruling together with her in some sense. It was this that justified his interventions in the sacred landscape: his priestly status was “not only evidence of his actual role in the cult of the goddess, but also proof of the legality of his secular power.” [60] Whether other Cypriot kings exercised such sacral kingship in the Classical period is less certain, since a comparable double titulary is so far unparalleled. [61] Yet there is suggestive evidence at least for Salamis [62] and Kourion, [63] and it would not be surprising if the conception were fairly common in varying forms on the island, given how generally the goddess was venerated.
Intimately connected with Nikokles’ official position as deputy of the goddess was his claim of Kinyrad ancestry. This is proven by an inscription discovered in 1953. Two elegiac couplets, paleographically dated to the last quarter of the fourth century, were carved on the base of a statue of the king, dedicated to Paphian ‘Aphrodite’ by an admirer at Ledroi (modern Nicosia):
I[n] the Ledrians’ precinct of P[aphia, a scion of glorious]
          Fathers, Arkhaios, [admiringly erect]ed [sc. a statue of]
Timarkhos’ son, the Paphians’ [outstanding king]—
          Nikokles, of div[ine-speaking] Kinyras [descendant]. [64]
Despite considerable damage to the stone, T. B. Mitford rightly asserted that his exemplary supplements must convey the sense closely. [65] The inscription is supremely important for establishing that later literary traditions of a Kinyrad monarchy at Paphos were in fact historically founded. While Mitford’s thẹ[spesíou (‘div[ine-speaking’) is not certain, some word with the element ‘divine’ remains highly probable given the known theta, metrical constraints, and the need to find an appropriate epithet for Kinyras. [66] Thespésios, a formation that must go back to the second millennium, meant originally ‘proclaimed by a god’. [67] Epic diction uses it of such ‘ominous’ sounds as exalted music (including the lyre) and extends it to other awesome phenomena. [68] Note also Euripides’ description of Delphi as the “divinely-singing (thespiōidón) center of the world,” recalling that Paphos also styled itself as gês omphalós (see below). [69] A thespésios Kinyras would be a most appropriate source—always alongside the goddess herself, of course—for the Paphian kings’ priestly and mantic authority.
A statue-base found near Old Paphos contains a second inscription, which, though infuriatingly damaged, must relate to Kinyras. Composed in hexameters, and paleographically dated to the late fourth or early third century, this remarkable text gives a glimpse of a Kinyrad king or priest contemplating his own cultic persona. The recent supplements of S. Follet and J.-B. Cayla improve those of I. Nicolaou as to syntax and letter spacing, and more clearly bring out the divinatory dimension that seems required both by hieròn nóon (‘sacred mind’, 3) and the Kinyrad context. The dedicant’s name clearly commenced the second verse; I propose to read “Nikokles, king” (Nikokléēs basileús), which is metrically appropriate and well supported by other inscriptions from his reign. [70] The text might thus be:
This statue, a gift for [P]aphian [ ],
          [King Nikokles placed, me]morial of the cultic duty (thyapolías)
[whereby he learned the god]s’ sacred purpose (hieròn nóon), through [god-sent/divine-voiced] customs
          Celebrating the arts of the line of [Kiny]ras. [71]
Much is uncertain. But given the dedicant’s reference both to blood-descent (geneâs, 4) and devotional activity before the goddess (thyapolías, 2), Nicolaou’s Kiný]ra (genitive) in verse four must be right, the Kinyradai being the only hieratic lineage certainly known for historical Paphos. [72] Although Nikokles always bears the title “Priest of Wanassa” in the dedicatory inscriptions that are certainly his, those relate to his civic activities as a builder. The present text would deal rather with his duties in the goddess’s cult. The king’s construction projects were themselves cultic ventures in that he acted by divine approval; yet his status as the goddess’s agent was itself due to his Kinyrad descent. So, in the dedicatory texts “Priest of Wanassa” is a kind of shorthand, otiose in an inscription that details the king’s priestly duties.
If, however, one follows Cayla in dating to the early third century, the inscription will reflect rather the transition to mere priestly Kinyradai in the post-monarchic period—presumably a high priest’s celebration of the cult’s alleged perseverance in the Kinyrad line, despite the Ptolemaic takeover (see below). This would certainly be interesting. But a monarchic context seems rather more likely if one accepts J. Mlynarczyk’s argument that the statue originated not in the temple at Palaipaphos, but “an unknown sanctuary in the vicinity of the Zephyria cape.” [73]
That thyapolía refers to divinatory sacrifice—a natural implication of the word itself—is corroborated by the striking hieròn nóon, whether construed as “his art’s sacred intention” (Nicolaou) or “the mind of the gods” (Cayla). [74] Given Tacitus’ statement that at Paphos “it is prohibited to pour blood over the altar; the burnings-altar (altaria) is kindled only with prayers and pure fire,” [75] thyapolía could well indicate the incense rites implied by many sources, especially a fourth-century Paphian coin with Aphrodite before a thymiatḗrion. [76] But since Tacitus himself also says that the Kinyradai inspected the entrails of victims brought by consultants, this must remain a possible context for the inscription. [77] While extispicy must have transpired away from the main altar, the goddess was probably still implicated in the outcome. [78] But perhaps thyapolía refers to all dimensions of Kinyrad priestly technique, and the ongoing maintenance the goddess’s cult. [79] Given a musical Kinyras, the “arts of his line” may well encompass some lyric dimension—even in a divinatory context. Recall the Hurrian liver-omen text that seems to contain kinnāru, and of course the Biblical evidence for lyre-prophecy. [80] A record of cult expenditures from OB Larsa may also imply use of a balang during an incense offering. [81]
When one balances Nikokles’ modernizing tendencies with the conservative and distinctly Paphian expressions of piety just discussed, it seems clear that this was no culturally insecure, provincial conformist, but a proud and astute political player who wished to perpetuate and magnify his ancient house. His actions must be seen against the chaotic events following Alexander’s death in 323. That the Paphian king should be caught up in the wars of succession was inevitable, since Cyprus was rich in resources and key to naval supremacy in the eastern Mediterranean. In 321, Nikokles joined with Nikokreon of Salamis and the kings of Soloi and Amathous in backing Ptolemy against Perdikkas, the latter supported by Marion, which withstood an initial siege. [82] Nikokles evidently considered himself a partner, not a menial. For soon after Alexander’s death, between 323–319, Nikokles issued a notorious Alexandrine on which he inserted, in miniscule characters, his own name within the mane of a lion-skin worn by Herakles—“a furtive kind of assertion of independence.” [83] Equally significant is his rewalling of the old city. [84] There is also a syllabic inscription, still poorly understood, which seems to be a kind of loyalty oath, related perhaps to Nikokles’ consolidation of forces against impending crisis. [85]
franklin fig44
Figure 44. Paphian coin with ‘Apollo’ and omphalós, reign of Nikokles, ca. 319. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence. Drawn from BMC Cyprus pl. XXII.11.
As other Cypriot kings resumed issuing autonomous coins—perhaps ca. 319 with the death of the regent Antipater and the deepening political chaos—Nikokles’ mint produced a type bearing a powerful patriotic message (Figure 44). [86] On one side was the goddess with battlemented crown, perhaps trumpeting his new fortifications. [87] For the reverse, Nikokles adapted a Greek type which was fairly common in the fourth century—Apollo sitting on the omphalós and holding either bow or lyre. [88] Although the lyre-variant could have had special resonance for a Kinyrad king, and the pairing of bow and lyre was as ancient on Cyprus as in Greece, [89] for this coin Nikokles opted to use the archer—an appropriately martial image for his troubled times. Clearly this Apollo stands in some sense for the king himself, or his royal line. Nikokles could simultaneously demonstrate Olympian piety to a Greek audience, [90] and advance a claim of religious autonomy. For Paphos, like Delphi, was known as the “navel of the earth” (gês omphalós). [91] It is not known how early this precise designation was applied to the city, and it was probably a deliberate echo of the Delphic claim. The essential idea, however, must have been very ancient, grounded in the immemorial prestige of Aphrodite’s great sanctuary—as important a cult center for Cyprus and environs as Delphi was in Greece. It is thus quite possible that the island-wide panḗgyris described by Strabo goes back to Nikokles’ reign, if not beyond. This would certainly provide one strong motivation for the king’s monumentalization of New Paphos, whence began the ten-mile procession to Old Paphos with which the festival began in Strabo’s day. [92] In any case, Nikokles’ omphalós coin symbolized his kingdom’s religious authority, and insinuated that Paphos was its own political center, not someone else’s periphery. It was a potent assertion of sovereignty.
Nikokles’ proud gestures must have alarmed Ptolemy, and perhaps especially the founding of New Paphos. [93] But Nikokles was still of his party between 315–312 as Ptolemy put down the Cypriot allies of Antigonos—Kition, Lapethos, Keryneia, and Marion, destroying the last-named and deporting its population to Paphos—its southern neighbor—where it helped fill Nikokles’ new foundation (as confirmed by a sudden swelling in the archaeological record). [94] Only two years later, however, Nikokles and his house suffered the famous catastrophe that is colorfully related by Diodoros and Polyainos. [95] Ptolemy, suspecting the Paphian king of negotiating with Antigonos, who was reaching the height of his powers, dispatched two henchmen to surround the palace and demand that Nikokles kill himself. This he did after protestations of innocence fell on deaf ears. According to Diodoros:
Axiothea, Nikokles’ wife, hearing of her husband’s death, cut the throats of her own virgin daughters, so that no enemy might possess them, and exhorted the wives of Nikokles’ brothers to seize death with her … The brothers of Nikokles, after barring the doors, set the house on fire and killed themselves. And so the royal house of Paphos … was undone. [96]
The falling-out of Ptolemy and Nikokles has been convincingly related to the settlement of the 313/312 campaign: while Nea Paphos was awarded only the deported inhabitants of Marion, Nikokreon of Salamis was given the lands and revenues of the other defeated cities, and made stratēgós of Cyprus to boot. But after Nikokreon himself died in 311/310 under unknown circumstances, confrontation with Nikokles was a logical follow-up to the suppression and killing of other Cypriot kings:
Nikokles’ activity within his kingdom was too dynamic, his authority as priest-king and descendant of the divine Kinyras was too great, his treasury presumably full, finally the strategic qualities of the kingdom and primarily of the newly founded Nea Paphos too apparent for Ptolemy not to desire to remove a potential ally of Antigonus. [97]

The Kinyradai in Hellenistic and Roman Times

Even if Nikokles’ family was not as thoroughly eradicated as Diodoros and Polyainos assert, Ptolemy will hardly have tolerated a Kinyrad heir of any standing to continue as Priest of the Goddess, a position of such great and ancient moral authority in the region. [98] Yet the cult of the goddess had to go on, and the divination-­priests in Tacitus’ day, we saw, did maintain a claim of Kinyrad descent. The intervening history, and the nature of Ptolemaic restructuring, is far from clear. The island was now subject to a military governor (stratēgós), a position of great distinction and strategic importance given to the highest dignitaries of the Ptolemaic court, including members of the royal family. [99] But the Paphian cult itself was apparently governed by a “Leader of the Kinyradai” (ho arkhòs tôn Kinyradôn). This title is attested in an inscription from the reign of Ptolemy IV Philopator (221–205), recording the dedication of a statue of his daughter by a certain Demokrates son of Ptolemy. [100] Demokrates’ patronymic does not prove a direct Ptolemaic intervention in the priestly succession—the name became generally popular in this period—but it hardly suggests continuity of the royal line. Yet presumably the Leader of the Kinyradai did carry on at least some of the old king’s priestly duties. [101] These would have included extispicy (Tacitus) and probably incense offerings to the goddess. Hierogamic gestures, although depoliticized, may well have continued at the level of agrarian magic and ritual poetics. Kinyras, through Aphrodite and his children (Adonis, Myrrha, et al.), could thus survive in some of his ancient roles.
A Leader of the Kinyradai (or equivalent) must have continued to preside over the Paphian cult even after, in the reign of Ptolemy V Epiphanes (204–181), he was technically outranked by the military governor who henceforth added “High Priest of the Island” to his title. [102] The principal reason for this innovation, which mirrors a development in the contemporary Seleucid satrapies, was probably to increase tax revenues from the island’s temples, of which Old Paphos boasted the wealthiest. [103] This is also when New Paphos seems to emerge as the island’s administrative capital. [104]
One of the first of these governor-priests was Ptolemy of Megalopolis, who had been a courtier of Ptolemy IV Philopator before assuming the Cypriot stratēgía under Epiphanes in 197. [105] To him we owe a brief but precious glimpse of the archaeological landscape of Old Paphos a century after the monarchy. He wrote an apparently muck-raking account of his former patron’s reign, of which only four fragments remain. By a lucky chance, one of these relates to Kinyras and the Kinyradai. The passage was tapped by Clement of Alexandria and Arnobius for tirades against pagan temples, which they interpreted euhemeristically as tombs of bygone mortals now wrongly venerated. For both, Kinyras concludes a list of legendary figures believed to be interred in the temple precincts of major gods. [106] Kinyras was apparently unique, and so the more outrageous, for being buried with “his whole family—indeed his whole family line”; and Ptolemy guaranteed his information, according to Arnobius, “on the authority of letters” (litterarum auctoritate). What does this mean? One reasonably assumes that Ptolemy wrote about the Kinyradai after his appointment to the governorship, in which case he could have made his “declaration” on the authority of his own eyes, rather than by appeal to some earlier historian or ethnographer. This strongly suggests that he referred to epigraphic evidence in the sanctuary itself, akin to the inscriptions discussed above. [107] And there must have been something that was displayed as the tomb of Kinyras himself. [108] Since Clement and Arnobius cite their examples to illustrate customs of pagan worship, it should follow that Kinyras received such attentions at Paphos—that his sepulcher doubled as a kind of shrine within the temple precinct. When one considers that vestiges of Cypriot cult lingered on into the Medieval period at various ancient sites, [109] such activity is perfectly possible for Paphos in the second century BCE, when Ptolemy was writing—and even the second or third CE, with Clement. [110]
In the troubled reign of Euergetes II Physkon (146–116), the inscriptions attest what appears to be a new designation, “The Priests of Paphian Aphrodite.” [111] Yet this need not mean that Kinyradai had ceased to exist: the title may only be an umbrella term for several groups of cult functionaries, of whom the Kinyradai remained one. Alternatively, ‘Kinyradai’ itself may once have had this collective force, [112] but was phased out of official use for some reason. Perhaps the old royal connotations were now felt to be potentially subversive, at odds with the Ptolemaic ruler cult itself. [113]
When Ptolemy IX Soter II (Lathyros) established a quasi-independent kingdom on the island in 106/105, the old stratēgía became obsolete, and with it apparently the position of “High Priest of the Island.” [114] At Paphos a mantiárkhēs is now twice attested: such an officer must have overseen divination, personally conducting it as the occasion demanded—for illustrious visitors like Titus, for instance—and was perhaps the equivalent of High Priest. [115] Whether he also counted himself a Kinyrad—as Tacitus would suggest—is unclear; if so, ‘Leader of the Kinyradai’ had presumably fallen out of formal use.
On the death of Lathyros in 80, a bastard ascended the Cypriot throne; it was this Ptolemy who, when in 58 Cato the Younger offered him the high priesthood of Paphian Aphrodite if he would stand down, famously preferred suicide to demotion. This confirms that the temple then had its own high priest (whether mantiárkhēs, hagḗtōr, [116] or some other title), and shows that the position had maintained enough of its ancient regal prestige to be “the best equivalent for royal power which [Cato] could offer.” [117]
Under the Empire the title High Priest (arkhiereús) is definitely attested in 212, and is probably to be restored in an inscription of the earlier first century CE. [118] This, with the contemporary testimony of Tacitus, shows that a continuous Kinyrad self-identity is not incompatible with periodic changes in official nomenclature. This is confirmed by the Kinýrarkhos (or Kinyrárkhēs) who appears in a heavily damaged inscription from the reign of Antoninus Pius (138–161 CE). [119] The title clearly recalls “Leader of the Kinyradai” from four centuries earlier—an “archaistic revival, perhaps merely honorific, of which the purpose eludes.” [120]
The temple hierarchy was clearly not immune to diachronic development, perhaps especially as to titulary. Whereas ‘Leader of the Kinyradai’ in a third-century BCE context may very well suggest the highest officer in the cult, apparently in Antonine times the Kinýrarkhos was distinct from the High Priest. [121] Presumably, then, the Kinyrarch led but one of the temple’s colleges, the activity of whose members is indicated by the root kinyr-. The implications of this must be pursued next.

Sons of the Kinýra

Although the precise relationship between the old kings and the Kinyradai who operated thereafter (under one name or another) is elusive, one important issue can be pinpointed. The titles “Leader of the Kinyradai” and Kinýrarkhos, along with Tacitus, show that the Kinyradai were not only a royal and/or priestly ‘lineage going back to Kinyras’—a natural interpretation of the patronymic suffix [122] —but equally a coeval priestly cohort. For the monarchy one might try to harmonize these diachronic and synchronic senses by supposing that the larger royal family constituted the Kinyradai, from whose ranks the priesthood was drawn. This seems probable enough; but it does not completely account for the post-monarchic period with its interruption of the royal line. Nor is it credible to divorce completely the synchronic and diachronic senses, assigning one kind of Kinyradai to each period. For even if one regards ‘Kinyradai’ per se as a titular contrivance of the Ptolemies, stressing the legitimacy of cult continuity despite the loss of monarchy, yet an analogous body of priests must already have existed, whose activity would have to be well described by the new label, if new it was.
Fortunately, the word itself permits further inferences. As M. L. West pointed out, the Greek patronymic suffix can yield not only ‘Sons of Kinyras’ but ‘Sons of the Lyre’, corresponding exactly to the normal WS designation of professional ‘guilds’, with their claims of common descent. [123] This interpretation is highly plausible within a larger NE context; recall the royally sponsored groups examined in Part One (Ugarit, Bible) and the lyre-orchestras of the Cypro-Phoenician symposium bowls (Chapter 11). ‘Leader of the Kinyradai’ and ‘Kinyrarch’ would then simply designate the ranking kinýra-player of a larger college. Nor is this incompatible with the divination duties Tacitus attributes to the Kinyradai: the Biblical material, we have seen, attributes various ritual, ‘magical’ powers to the kinnōr and its players, including forms of prophecy, which go well beyond the simply musical. This scenario would also explain how the Kinyradai continued so readily after the fall of Paphos, since they need never have been limited to the royal family.
The paradox of Kinyradai as both ‘cultic lyrists’ and ‘royal dynasty descended from Kinyras’ may be neatly resolved by supposing that the kings of Paphos, in presiding over state rituals as “Priest of the Queen,” did so effectively as Leader of the Kinyradai (vel sim.). [124] This deduction is perfectly compatible with the conclusions reached in other chapters on different grounds—that Kinyras was a kind of royal performing role, and that kinýras itself means basically ‘kinýra-player’. [125] It may be that a separate ‘lead kinyrist’ was already operative in royal Paphos—a kind of Chief Singer as at Mari or under David—who oversaw the execution of practical liturgical matters, while the king, though active as high priest of the goddess—and so notional leader of her cult—did not trouble himself with the detailed management of the Kinyrad priests. [126] Still, the comparanda from Ugarit and Hattusha show that, while royal cult performances were essentially honorary, some real participation was necessary. And since the Paphian king was himself of professed Kinyrad descent, he would necessarily act as the ‘Lead Kinyrad’ of his generation, whoever else may have conducted more quotidian tasks, musical or otherwise.
The Kinyradai, considered diachronically as a royal dynasty, also recall the royal mortuary cult of Ugarit—where the king’s ancestors were divinized, and the kinnāru was apparently a symbolic marker of eternal, blessed kingship. One might therefore see the Paphian kings as somehow incarnating Kinyras in successive generations. [127] West’s view that Kinyras “is nothing but the mythical eponymous ancestor of the Kinyradai,” though right in one sense, does not account for the deep antiquity, and materiality, of Kinnaru and the Mesopotamian balang-gods. There are indeed clear examples of eponymous ancestors being secondarily derived from group names (Homer himself is now often suspected); but the opposite process, a group taking their name from an established figure, is equally well attested. [128] To be sure, a Divine Kinnaru must ultimately be a professional projection—an exaltation by hieratic lyre-players of their own religious authority, social status, and venerable tradition. But such a gesture, to account for Kinnaru at Ugarit, will antedate the Kinyradai of historical Paphos by so many centuries that they themselves were perhaps unaware of Kinyras’ ‘artificial’ origin, regarding him in all sincerity as an ancient demigod priest-king whose duties to the goddess they perpetuated. Such a ‘dwindling’ may be paralleled by divine figures of Linear B reappearing as minor characters in Greek mythology (when not disappearing altogether). [129] Yet it does seems clear, from “Our Kenyristḗs Apollo” and the other evidence so far considered, that the lyric Kinyras remained rather numinous down to the Classical period, and even to the time of Tiberius.
To conclude, we must seriously entertain the possibility that the Kinyradai of Paphos—as a royal lyric clan—go back in one form or another to the pre-Greek LBA. This idea, which will seem far-fetched when considering only the city’s few and relatively late historical inscriptions, becomes much more compelling once one’s horizons are expanded by the systematic considerations explored in this and previous chapters. After all, the goddess’s cult operated continuously across the LBA–IA transition, and must have been appropriately staffed throughout.


[ back ] 1. Also Suetonius Titus 5. Cf. HC:233; Mitford 1990:2180.
[ back ] 2. Tacitus Histories 2.3: Conditorem templi regem Aeriam vetus memoria, quidam ipsius deae nomen id perhibent. fama recentior tradit a Cinyra sacratum templum deamque ipsam conceptam mari huc adpulsam; sed scientiam artemque haruspicum accitam et Cilicem Tamiram intulisse, atque ita pactum ut familiae utriusque posteri caerimoniis praesiderent. mox, ne honore nullo regium genus peregrinam stirpem antecelleret, ipsa quam intulerant scientia hospites cessere: tantum Cinyrades sacerdos consulitur.
[ back ] 3. Tacitus Annals 3.62: exim Cyprii tribus delubris, quorum vetustissimum Paphiae Veneri auctor Aerias, post filius eius Amathus Veneri Amathusiae et Iovi Salaminio Teucer, Telamonis patris ira profugus, posuissent.
[ back ] 4. Tacitus Annals 3.60: placitum ut mitterent civitates iura atque legatos … multae vetustis superstitionibus … fidebant. The mythological basis of these petitions is discussed by Cameron 2004:226–227.
[ back ] 5. ExcCyp 6; IGRom 3:941; I.Paphos 148.
[ back ] 6. Mitford 1990:2182.
[ back ] 7. See p205.
[ back ] 8. For Tacitus’ use of the Acta senatus generally, see Talbert 1984:326–364 (329 for the asylum petitions). While the so-called Senatus consultum de Cn. Pisone patre (Eck et al. 1996) illuminates the historian’s creative departure from official records, it is less revealing about his use of the Acta themselves (see Talbert 1999; Damon 1999). I see no reason why Tacitus should have distorted the diplomatic record in the present case.
[ back ] 9. Pirenne-Delforge 1994:332–333 suggests that only Aerias was mentioned in the official report, and that Tacitus himself has introduced the familiar tradition of Kinyras. But Kinyras’ appearance here is inextricably involved with the Tamiradai, and the very obscurity of the latter shows that they, like Aerias, must derive from the official report.
[ back ] 10. See p21–323, 363.
[ back ] 11. The manuscript variant Uranium was indeed read by Alciatus (hence the “Uranie Roy” of Description , p. 16), but this is clearly a gloss: ExcCyp:176; HC:69n5; cf. Baurain 1980b:290; Pirenne-Delforge 1994:311 (skeptical of the equation); Currie 2005:276n90 (noting that Ouránios and Aérios are elsewhere attested as epithets of Zeus).
[ back ] 12. Farnell 1896–1909 2:629–631. See further p378.
[ back ] 13. Note that ἀερία (presumably ‘airy’ or ‘misty’) is reported as a former name for Cyprus (and several other places) by Hesykhiοs s.v. (ἀερία· ὀμίχλη, παρὰ Αἰτωλοῖς. Θάσον τε τὴν νῆσον, καὶ Αἴγυπτον, καὶ Λιβύην, καὶ Κρήτην, καὶ Σικελίαν, καὶ Αἰθιοπίαν, καὶ Κύπρον οὕτως ἐκάλουν). Can all of these places be imagined as especially ‘airy’ or ‘misty’?
[ back ] 14. Blinkenberg 1924:31.
[ back ] 15. Black and Green 1992 s.v. Inana, “derived from a presumed Nin-ana, ‘Lady of Heaven’”; also s.v. An for Antu as wife of Babylonian Anu.
[ back ] 16. Zeus and Dione: Burkert 1992:97–98; EFH:361–363 and further literature in n36. For Dione-Aphrodite and Cyprus cf. also Theokritos Idylls 15.106, 17.36; Dionysios the Periegete 508–509. For Iliad 5, see Cassio 2012 §4–5. Note too that Aphrodite is apparently paired with Zeus in several late fifth century coins from Marion, and fourth-century examples from Paphos: BMC Cyprus:lx–xi and plates (Marion), lxxix and pl. VIII.12–13 (Paphos); cf. Paphos:205.
[ back ] 17. Pirenne-Delforge 1994:331–333 and n121–122.
[ back ] 18. LSJ s.v. κύπριος; LS s.v. Cyprus II A–B; OLD s.v. Cyprius.
[ back ] 19. Paulus Diaconus Epitome of Festus 18.23 (Lindsay): Aerosam appellaverunt antiqui insulam Cyprum, quod in ea plurimum aeris nascatur (also in Étienne de Lusignan Chorograffia p. 2a [§1], “Erosa,” Description p. 2a, “Aereuse”). The datum goes back to the Augustan period (Verrius Flaccus, whom Festus had himself epitomized in his On the Meaning of Words) or beyond; despite Paul’s general terms, the ‘usage’ probably had no popular life outside of poetry and technical writers (Pliny Natural History 34.2.2–4 is relevant).
[ back ] 20. The idea is entertained favorably by Kypris:136. See further p476–479.
[ back ] 21. One must suppose a continuous literate tradition in parts of Cyprus to explain the kinship of the Cypro-Minoan script and later, regional varieties of Cypro-Syllabic: Iacovou 2006b:31–32, 36–39; M. Egetmeyer in Steele 2012:107–131.
[ back ] 22. RE 4 (1932), 2138; Heubner 1963–1982 2:34, 36.
[ back ] 23. Hesykhios s.v. Ταμιράδαι· ἱερεῖς τινες ἐν Κύπρῳ. Cf. Neumann 1961:36.
[ back ] 24. Σ Dionysios the Periegete 509; cf. [Apollodoros] Library 3.14.3. See Movers 1841–1856 2:237 and n32, 275n50a; GGM 2:450, ap. crit. For these texts, see further Chapter 21.
[ back ] 25. This was proposed by Power 1929:162–163; rejected by Neumann 1961:36. The inscription is ICS 194 (line 4); cf. Egetmeyer and Hintze 1992:201; DGAC:581 no. 5; Steele 2013 no. EC 3.
[ back ] 26. Tamiradai < tmr: Power 1929:162–163; Dugand 1973:199, following Astour 1965:137 in comparing the episode of Tamar’s disguised seduction of her father-in-law Judah (Genesis 38:12–30) with Myrrha’s of Kinyras, and noting the correspondence of both female names with that of a tree; Heubner 1963–1982 2:34 suggests that Tamira was the pre-Greek name of the Paphian goddess herself.
[ back ] 27. See p383–388.
[ back ] 28. Mosca and Russell 1987:9.
[ back ] 29. Neumann 1961:36–37.
[ back ] 30. Movers 1841–1856 2:275 and n50a; Ohnefalsch-Richter 1893 1:252; contra RE 4 (1932), 2138. The presence of i versus y is unproblematic, given the early fronting of Greek ŭ/ū (see p196). For ‘confusion’ of t and th in a second-third century context, Allen 1987:24.
[ back ] 31. SEG 32:503: see p234.
[ back ] 32. See p250n44.
[ back ] 33. Strabo 14.5.10. Cf. Gjerstad 1944:116.
[ back ] 34. Hesykhios s.v. ἀχαιομάντεις· οἱ τὴν τῶν … θεῶν ἔχοντες ἱερωσύνην ἐν Κύπρῳ.
[ back ] 35. Cf. Karageorghis 1988:193: “un nom assez révélateur pour les prêtres … qui évoque leur lointaine origine et leurs dons divinatoires.”
[ back ] 36. Baurain 1975–1976:531–532 rightly saw the juxtaposition of Tamiras and Kinyras as a simple mythological rationalization to explain an historical fact of two priestly families presiding in the cult of Aphrodite. But the question remains: why should there ever have been a dual priesthood at all?
[ back ] 37. See further p360–368.
[ back ] 38. See Pirenne-Delforge 1994:332–333.
[ back ] 39. For Kinyras and Amathous, see p346–350. Mother Amathousa: Herodian De prosodia catholica 242.34 Lentz; cf. Stephanos of Byzantium s.v. Ἀμαθοῦς. The genealogy of Kinyras as son of Paphos or Paphia (Σ Pindar Pythian 2.28; Σ Dionysios the Periegete 509; Hyginus Fabulae 275) would also make him secondary to the foundation of the city and cult.
[ back ] 40. See p359–368.
[ back ] 41. For Neumann 1961:36 and Heubner 1963–1982 2:34, Kinyras, though featuring in the fama recentior, represents an autochthonous tradition (versus the imported Tamiradai). But while Kinyras clearly symbolizes pre-Greek Cypriot culture in many sources (see Chapters 13 and 14), this need not contradict the persistent traditions of his external origin. It is simply a question of relative chronology, historical and/or mythopoeic: Kinyras must only antedate the Greek cultural layer of Cyprus.
[ back ] 42. See p14n73, p360n131.
[ back ] 43. See Maier 1989:380–386, detecting significant Egyptian and Assyrian influences in the iconography and dress; yet his suggestion (386) that the Paphian conception of sacral kingship comes therefore from those quarters—that is, quite recently—is unnecessary (Maier 1996:130 is more tentative on this point). The Paphian kings, while maintaining an ancient ideology, could merely have adapted their regalia to the prevailing political climate and attendant fashions. Indeed, the mélange of Assyrianizing and Egyptianizing elements argues against any single foreign source. We are seeing rather a peripheral response to imperial power, a phenomenon otherwise well documented for the N-A period. The Sargon stele from Kition attests an Assyrian ideological presence on the island in the late eighth century (cf. p353). Echoes of N-A imperial diction, recycled to express anti-Assyrian sentiments, are found in Hebrew literature deriving from the period (Cohen 1979, especially 38–47; Machinist 1983b, with further references in 729n29; Machinist 1993:98; Patzek 2003:71–74). Similarly, some Phoenician inscriptions reveal stylistic affinities with the N-A royal inscriptions and annals: Amadasi 1982. For Lydia’s responses to Assyrian ideology, see Franklin 2008.
[ back ] 44. Ὁ ἱερεὺς τῆς ϝανάσσας (also ἱερής, i-ye-re-se): ICS 4.1, 6.1, 7.4, 16.2, 17.4, 90.2, 91.7 = DGAC: 730 no. 4, 732–733 no. 1–2, 735–736 no. 8–9, 594–595 no. 1–2. Cf. ExcCyp:186–187; Blinkenberg 1924:31–32; Baurain 1980b:283n26; Paphos:157; Maier 1989:376–377; Kypris:136, 40–42.
[ back ] 45. For Ugarit, see p114–115. Sidon: KAI 13.1–2 (Tabnit I, late 6th, “Priest of Astarte, king of the Sidonians, son of Eshmunazar, priest of Astarte, king of the Sidonians”) = CS 2 no. 56, cf. KAI 14 (Eshmunazar I) = CS 2 no. 57; also the kings named ‘Straton’ (i.e. Abdastart), Grainger 1991:22–23, 30 et passim. For Ithobaal of Tyre and royal theophoric names with ‘Astarte’, see the ‘Tyrian Annals’ (Aubet 1993:27–28) in Josephus Against Apion 1.106–127 (Menandros of Ephesus FGH 783 F 1). Cf. Bunnens 1979:356; Maier 1989:386 and n34; DDUPP:451–452 (with comments on Plutarch Moralia 357b). Byblos: KAI 5–7, 10 (Baal, not Baalat, is now read in KAI 4: Bonnet 1993; Mettinger 2001:140); ANET:656; CS 2 no. 32; DDUPP:72.
[ back ] 46. Pindar Pythian 2.17. See Chapter 10.
[ back ] 47. Homer Iliad 11.19–28: see p1, 322. This point is made by Maier 1989:377, 387n5; Baurain 1980b:305; similarly Baurain 1981a:24n4 would see Kinyras’ connection with Aphrodite as a secondary, post-BA development.
[ back ] 48. See for now Franklin 2014:232–240, and cf. p1, 338–339 above.
[ back ] 49. The sources for Nikokles are collected and discussed by Mitford 1960a; Mitford 1960b:200–205; Spyridakis 1963:143–154; Michaelidou-Nicolaou 1976; ICS 1–3, 6–7, 90–91; Paphos:222–226; NPHP:67–85 et passim; I.Paphos:39–45; Cayla 2005; DGAC:594–595 no. 1–2, 729–730 no. 1–2, 732–733 no. 1–2, 767 no. 166.
[ back ] 50. Paphos:224, 245n6, 231.
[ back ] 51. Artemis Agrotéra: ICS 1; SEG 18:586, 20:251; DGAC:728–729 no. 1. Mitford 1960b:200–205 saw this goddess as an Arcadian import (cf. Pausanias 8.32.4) whose worship remained ‘rustic’ until the new temple was built.
[ back ] 52. Hera: Mitford 1960b:203 no. 5; ICS 90; DGAC:594 no. 1.
[ back ] 53. Apollo Hylátēs: ICS 2–3; DGAC:729–730 no. 2–3; Mlynarczyk 1980; Papantonio 2012:227.
[ back ] 54. The walling mentioned on the ‘Altar of Nikokles’ is generally referred to Old Paphos: ExcCyp 46; Mitford 1960b:203 no. 2, cf. 198n5; HIOP 1 (dating it to ca. 321); I.Paphos 1; cf. Gesche 1974:112; Paphos:210 (archaeological evidence for rebuilding); NPHP:70–71; Cayla 2005:238 (argues for New Paphos).
[ back ] 55. NPHP:68.
[ back ] 56. Cayla 2005:235–238.
[ back ] 57. Mitford 1960b:201–203; NPHP:68; Cayla 2005:235.
[ back ] 58. NPHP:70.
[ back ] 59. Cayla 2005:235–238; cf. p409. This may be right. But Pindar, clearly implying Kinyras’ involvement with the Paphian cult by the fifth century, is enough to disprove Cayla’s tentative earlier connection with the fama recentior: “un ensemble de légendes secondairement greffées ou artificiellement ravivées au début de l’époque hellénistique aurait doublé puis supplanté une tradition plus ancienne” (I.Paphos:38).
[ back ] 60. NPHP:70 (her emphasis).
[ back ] 61. Maier 1989:379–380.
[ back ] 62. For Salamis, note especially the invocation of Homeric Hymn 10.4–5—χαῖρε θεὰ Σαλαμῖνος ἐϋκτιμένης μεδέουσα / εἰναλίης τε Κύπρου, “Hail, ruler of well-founded Salamis / And Cyprus on the sea.” Here again, as at Paphos, the goddess is a kind of queen; when this is combined with the acknowledgement of her island-wide dominion, it reads like a regional counterclaim to the Paphian kings and their control of the goddess’s great sanctuary (see p345). For Euagoras’ Kinyrad claim, see p351–359. Aphrodite appears on Salaminian coins from at least the reign of Euagoras II (ca. 361–351) down to the end of the kingdom (BMC Cyprus:ciii–cxiv passim; HC:143n3 and 147n3); her status as city-goddess is indicated by the battlemented crown (pólos) on the coins of Euagoras II (BMC Cyprus, pl. XXIV.10–11), much like the (later) issues of Nikokles of Paphos (see below) and perhaps his father Timarkhos (BMC Cyprus:lxxvi and pl. VIII.8). At Salamis, Markou 2006 argues that the beardless, earringed, and becrowned figure that appears on the reverse of Aphrodite portrays the king as the priest of the goddess.
[ back ] 63. On the Cypro-Phoenician bowl Cy6 (featuring a musical ensemble with Phoenician-type lyre: Figure 29) are two Greek inscriptions in Cypro-Syllabic script. That above the reclining male figure has been interpreted as ‘king’; many readings have been proposed for the one above the reclining female, but Κυπρομέδουσα, ‘Ruling over Cyprus’, is perhaps most attractive. This has been taken as an epithet of the goddess, and hence the composition as reflecting some form of royal hierogamy. See Karageorghis 2002b:156 (with fig. 322), 177, with references.
[ back ] 64. Λεδρίων ἐ[ν] τεμένει Π[αφίας ἶνις περιφήμων] | Ἀρχαῖος πατέρων ἔστ[ασ’ ἀγασσάμενος] | υἱὸν Τιμάρχου Παφίων [βασιλῆα φέριστον], | Νικοκλέα Κινύρου θε̣[σπεσίου πρόγονον]. For text and supplements, see Mitford 1961a, 136–138 no. 36; SEG 20:114 (these publications read Λεδρίωι, not Λεδρίων (so the PHI Greek Inscriptions online corpus): the general sense is not affected); ICS:399. Identification of Ledroi: Mitford 1961a, 136–138; ICS:229–232.
[ back ] 65. Mitford 1961a:137.
[ back ] 66. One could also think of words with θει-, e.g. θειοπρόπου, θειολόγου.
[ back ] 67. Athematic compounds containing *thes- (‘god’) predate Linear B, which gives te-o, reflecting *thehós or theós, not the ancestral *thesós: Billigmeier and Dusing 1981:13; Beekes 2009 s.v. θεός, θεσπέσιος.
[ back ] 68. Chantraine 1968 s.v.; Frisk 1960 s.v.; Ford 1992:180–197. Some illuminating musical examples: Homer Iliad 2.599–600 (of Thamyris): αὐτὰρ ἀοιδὴν / θεσπεσίην ἀφέλοντο καὶ ἐκλέλαθον κιθαριστύν; cf. 1.328, 8.498; Odyssey 12.158 (of the Sirens); Hesiod Theogony 31–32; Sappho 44.26–27 (μέλος ἄγν[ον … / ἄχω θεσπεσία); Alkaios 130.34 (ἄχω θεσπεσία γυναίκων); Homeric Hymn to Hermes 420–421 (ἰωὴ / θεσπεσίης ἐνοπῆς, of Hermes’ lyre); Pindar Nemean 9.7, cf. Pindar fr. 52g.1 (μαντευμ̣άτ̣[ω]ν τε θεσπεσίων), of prophecies. Often of nonmusical sound: Homer Iliad 23.213, etc. (ἠχῇ θεσπεσίῃ, formulaic).
[ back ] 69. Euripides Medea 668: ὀμφαλὸν γῆς θεσπιῳδόν; Hesykhios s.v. γῆς ὀμφαλός· ἡ Πάφος καὶ Δελφοί.
[ back ] 70. Νικοκλέης βασιλεύς (or Νικοκλέης Παφίων?). The form Νικοκλέης, as well as the title βασιλεύς, is indicated by the syllabic inscriptions (ni-ko-ke-le-ve: see references in n49). The combination -κλ- makes position both in the alphabetic Altar of Nikokles inscription (εὐρύχορος πόλις ἅ[δε τεᾶι, Νικόκ]λεες, ὁρμᾶι: for references, see n54) and the Ledroi dedication (Νικοκλέα Κινύρου); the latter also parallels the proposed synizesis of -εη- in the second foot, which is further facilitated by the contemporary waning of digamma: cf. pa-si-le-o-se, βασιλῆος (rather than pa-si-le-wo-se), in ICS 17.1; DGAC 166.6 (both from Old Paphos). Mitford suggested a comparable restoration in the digraphic Artemis Agrotera inscription: Νικοκλέης Παφίων βασιλεὺς] υἱὸς Τιμάρχου (Mitford 1960b:200–205; ICS 1).
[ back ] 71. Nicolaou 1964 23a and pl. XXI 23a (with suggestions of Webster); cf. SEG 23:639; BÉ 79:483; I.Paphos 64. Nicolaou’s published text reads: —‿‿—‿‿—Π]αφίαι γέρας εἰκόνα τάνδε | —‿‿—‿‿—μ]νᾶμα θυαπολίας | —‿‿—‿‿]ω̣ν ἱερὸν νόον ἤθεσι τέχνας | —‿‿—Κινύ]ρα κλειζόμενος γενεᾶς. Proposed supplements: 1. Καλὸν ἔθηκε θεᾶι Π]: Webster; θῆκ’ Ἀφροδίται τᾶι Π]: S. Follet/Cayla, I.Paphos:200n432—2. Νικοκλέης βασιλεύς (vel Παφίων): coni. ego (v. supra); μ]νᾶμα: Webster—3. πατρῴοις σῴζ]ω̣ν: Nicolaou (νάον: err. BÉ 79:483)—4. εἶναι τῆς Κινύ]ρα: Nicolaou; θεσπεσίοις Κινύρ]α: S. Follet/Cayla:200n432. Cayla’s objection to two nominative participles in asyndeton (I.Paphos:201) in verses 3–4 leads to his relative clause at the start of 3. If, however, one prefers to develop Nicolaou’s view that ἤθεσι has lost an epithet in 3 (his πατρώιοις), verse 4 could have held one for Κινύ]ρα, e.g. θεσπεσίω. Cayla’s proposal to take τέχνας as the object of κλειζόμενος (in the sense ‘celebrating’) is graceful and quite persuasive. But if one would follow Nicolaou in seeing verse 4 as a self-contained clause, the interpretation of κλειζόμενος as middle is perhaps less satisfying than a passive, which would indicate popular recognition. Cf. IG IX.1 880 (Corfu, ca. 100 BCE–100 CE): ἴσθι δ’ ὡς πατρὸς | Ἀθηνίωνος οὑν ταφῇσι κλῄζεται; IG XII.3 1190 (Melos, n.d.): πατρὸς κλ[ῃ]ζομένα Δαμα<ι>ν[έ]του, ἐκ δέ γε μητρὸς | Κλεισφύσσας.
[ back ] 72. Cf. J. and L. Robert, BÉ 79:483 (“N. conjecture avec vraisemblance … Il nous semble que le vers 3 s’entendrait de l’art divinatoire de Kinyras et de ses descendants”); SEG 23:639 (“recte, ut videtur”). Genitive in -ᾱ, rather than -αυ, is otherwise attested on Cyprus: see Perpillou 1978:296–297.
[ back ] 73. NPHP:114.
[ back ] 74. I.Paphos:201. Cf. LSJ s.v. θύω; Chantraine 1968 s.v. θύω 2.
[ back ] 75. Tacitus Histories 2.3: sanguinem arae obfundere vetitum: precibus et igne puro altaria adolentur. Cf. Mitford 1990:2180.
[ back ] 76. Paphian incense: Homer Odyssey 8.362–363 (βωμὸς θυήεις); Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite 58–59 (but this is formulaic and used of other temples, e.g. Homeric Hymn to Demeter 385); Vergil Aeneid 1.416–417. Coin: BMC Cyprus:lxxiv–v and pl. VIII.7, noting Hesykhios s.v. κιχητός· <εἰς> ὃ ἐμβάπτεται ὁ λιβανωτός. Κύπριοι; cf. HC:72 and n5–6. Note also the “perfumed-oil-worker” (mu-ro-wo-ro-ko = μυροϝοργός) in a sixth-century inscription from Old Paphos: I.Rantidi 2.1 (cf. p280n30). Theophrastos regarded plant offerings as far more ancient than blood sacrifice; but his history of sacrificial practice is a kind of Golden Age myth: Porphyry On Abstinence from Animal Food 2.5 = Theophrastos On Piety fr. 2 Pötscher (584A Fortenbaugh).
[ back ] 77. Paphian extispicy is confirmed by Khariton 8.2.8–9.
[ back ] 78. So Robert/Robert, BÉ 79:439.
[ back ] 79. Nicolaou 1964:213 interprets this difficult verse as “Preserving in ancestral customs the sacred intentions of his art.”
[ back ] 80. See p99, 161–167.
[ back ] 81. PHG:70 and n69; Heimpel, “Balang-Gods,” 27.
[ back ] 82. Arrian FGH 156 F 10 §6, from his work on the Successors (Τὰ μετὰ τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον); cf. HC:156–157.
[ back ] 83. HC:164 (quotation) and references in n42, with pl. V.4a; Gesche 1974:113–122; Michaelidou-Nicolaou 1976:26, making a convincing case for the death of Alexander as a terminus post quem; the terminus ante is given by the Damanhour hoard: NPHP:71–72.
[ back ] 84. See n54.
[ back ] 85. Masson 1980; ICS 8 (cf. p394); DGAC:767 no. 166.
[ back ] 86. Omphalós coin: BMC Cyprus:lxxix–x and pl. XXII.10–11. Interpretation: Wace 1902–1903:215; HC:165; Gesche 1974:111n29 (political gesture); Michaelidou-Nicolaou 1976:27; Masson 1968; NPHP:82–85 and pl. I.3 (suggesting a connection with Nikokles’ promotion of Apollo Hylátēs); Masson 1991:65–68 (argues, against Hill, for authenticity of all exemplars).
[ back ] 87. ExcCyp:187; BMC Cyprus:lxxvi; HC:164.
[ back ] 88. See the catalogue in Wace 1902–1903:215–216. The type later became almost an escutcheon of the Seleucids, who traced their descent from Apollo (cf. p495). For the question of whether some specific historical circumstance links the Paphian and Seleucid motifs, see BMC Cyprus:lxxx; NPHP:82–85; Masson 1991:68 and n55.
[ back ] 89. See p229–230.
[ back ] 90. Masson 1991:68.
[ back ] 91. Hesykhios s.v. γῆς ὀμφαλός· ἡ Πάφος καὶ Δελφοί.
[ back ] 92. Strabo 14.6.3. That Nea Paphos was not formally founded until Nikokles, and that it emerged as the administrative capital under the Ptolemies (see p409), would certainly suit a late development (cf. HC:76–77; Mitford 1990:2179). Yet given the antiquity and importance of the sanctuary itself, some pilgrimage custom could have been quite ancient; Οld Paphos in any case had its own anchorage (hýphormos, Strabo 14.6.3).
[ back ] 93. Gesche 1974:112.
[ back ] 94. Diodoros Siculus 19.59.1, 19.62, 19.79.4–5. See HC:159–160; Mitford 1960b:198n6, 204; Mitford 1961a:93; NPHP:72 and n37.
[ back ] 95. A long-standing controversy, based on confusion in the ancient sources, sometimes assigns the episode rather to Nikokreon of Salamis, whose death is placed in the previous year. HC:161n1 (with further references) supported Nikokreon, but acknowledged “room for some doubt.” But persuasive arguments in favor of Nikokles were made by Gesche 1974 and NPHP:72–73; cf. Michaelidou-Nicolaou 1976:24–25. Mitford wished to have Nikokles executed in 306 when Demetrios Poliorketes took Cyprus: Mitford 1960b:198–199 and n6; Mitford 1961a:137.
[ back ] 96. Diodoros Siculus 20.21.2–3: Ἀξιοθέα δὲ ἡ γυνὴ τοῦ Νικοκλέους ἀκούσασα τὴν ἀνδρὸς τελευτὴν τὰς μὲν θυγατέρας τὰς ἑαυτῆς παρθένους οὔσας ἀπέσφαξεν, ὅπως μηδεὶς αὐτῶν πολέμιος κυριεύσῃ, τὰς δὲ τῶν ἀδελφῶν τῶν Νικοκλέους γυναῖκας προετρέψατο μεθ’ αὑτῆς ἑλέσθαι τὸν θάνατον … οἱ τοῦ Νικοκλέους ἀδελφοὶ συγκλείσαντες τὰς θύρας τὴν μὲν οἰκίαν ἐνέπρησαν, ἑαυτοὺς δ’ ἀπέσφαξαν. ἡ μὲν οὖν τῶν ἐν Πάφῳ βασιλέων οἰκία … κατελύθη. The version of Polyainos Stratagems 8.48 is better still, though longer.
[ back ] 97. NPHP:73.
[ back ] 98. So rightly NPHP:73–74. Contrast ExcCyp:187–188: “The Ptolemies kept possession of the island, the dethroned Cinyrads retained the priesthood”; similarly Mitford 1961a:137; Paphos:239; Papantonio 2012:344.
[ back ] 99. For Cyprus under the Ptolemies, and the various data regarding Paphos, see HC:158–211 passim (especially 164–165, 167, 179–180); HIOP:2 et passim; also Paphos, 223–224; Mitford 1990:2178–2182; Papantonio 2012.
[ back ] 100. Ἀφροδίτηι Παφίαι· | Δημοκράτης Πτολεμαίου | ὁ ἀρχὸς τῶν Κινυραδῶν | καὶ ἡ γυνὴ Εὐνίκη | τὴν ἑαυτῶν θυγατέρα | Ἀρίστιον (“For Paphian Aphrodite; Ptolemaios’ son Demokrates, Leader of the Kinyradai, and his wife Eunike [sc. have dedicated this statue of] their daughter Aristion”): LBW 2798; HIOP 32; I.Paphos 66; cf. ExcCyp:249, 260. See also comments of Ribichini 1982:494; Paphos:239; Masson 1986:455–456 (with a photograph of the stone in fig. 1); Masson 1988b:64n8. Ἀρχός, while virtually absent from prose, is epigraphically attested in various parts of the Greek world; although still unconfirmed in Linear B, it was evidently an ancient rival to the more familiar ἄρχων, and Masson inclines to see it as a genuine inheritance on Cyprus: Masson 1986:455–456, expanding an earlier discussion in ICS:98; cf. HIOP:p13. For a second example of ἀρχός from Paphos, see n126.
[ back ] 101. Cf. Hogarth 1889:3–4.
[ back ] 102. The first of many attestations is an inscription (HIOP 40; I.Paphos 9), probably dating to 197 BCE, of Polykrates of Argos, son of Mnasiadas, who evidently became stratēgós on the accession of Epiphanes: Πολυ[κτράτης … | ὁ στ[ρατηγὸς καὶ ἀρχιερ]εὺς τῆς νήσου.
[ back ] 103. HIOP:40 suggests that Polykrates himself (above note) may have assumed the position of high priest in order to safeguard revenues for his young master against conflicting interests in the Egyptian court; cf. HC:175 (with further references in n1), 183–184, 186.
[ back ] 104. NPHP:121–122.
[ back ] 105. Polybios 18.55.6–9, cf. 15.25.14–15. He succeeded Polykrates: HC:187.
[ back ] 106. Ptolemy of Megalopolis FGH 161 F 1 = Clement of Alexandria Exhortation 3.45 (Πτολεμαῖος δὲ ὁ τοῦ Ἀγησάρχου ἐν τῷ αʹ τῶν περὶ τὸν Φιλοπάτορα ἐν Πάφῳ λέγει ἐν τῷ τῆς Ἀφροδίτης ἱερῷ Κινύραν τε καὶ τοὺς Κινύρου ἀπογόνους κεκηδεῦσθαι, repeated verbatim by Eusebios Preparation for the Gospel 2.6.6) + the paraphrase of Arnobius Against the Pagans 6.6 (Agesarchi Ptolemaeus de Philopatore quem edidit primo Cinyram regem Paphi cum familia omni sua, imo cum omni prosapia in Veneris templo situm esse lit(t)erarum auctoritate declarat). Cf. Pfister 1909–1912:303, 452–453.
[ back ] 107. Presumably, Arnobius has used litterae to gloss γράμματα in Ptolemy, in which case the plural can indicate multiple inscriptions. For this sense of γράμμα, LSJ s.v., II.d., and often epigraphically.
[ back ] 108. Blinkenberg 1924:35; Heubner 1963–1982 2:35.
[ back ] 109. See p563–564.
[ back ] 110. Clement probably drew this and his other examples from a mythographic handbook.
[ back ] 111. Οἱ ἱερεῖς τῆς Παφίας Ἀφροδίτης: HIOP 70 (ca. 142–131) = I.Paphos 19, etc. This is also when the stratēgós assumed the third title of ‘naval commander’ (naúarkhos), with the loss of Ptolemaic sea-power in the Aegean and the fleet’s consolidation on Cyprus (HC:197).
[ back ] 112. One might seek such a generalizing sense in Hesykhios s.v. Κινυράδαι· ἱερεῖς Ἀφροδίτης (perhaps a modernizing gloss reflecting oἱ ἱερεῖς τῆς Παφίας Ἀφροδίτης, rather than a lexicographer’s vague stopgap).
[ back ] 113. Note the Βασιλισταί (‘Celebrants of the King’) who are attested in the reign of Ptolemy IX (see p234). It may be relevant that Cyprus had already edged towards being a self-contained kingdom on several occasions around this time. See HC:193 and n3 for the disputed episode of Eupator (152/1), son of Ptolemy VI Philometor; 196 for the two year ‘retreat’ of Ptolemy VIII Euergetes II and his family on the island (131/130–129).
[ back ] 114. HC:198–202; HIOP:38–39.
[ back ] 115. HIOP 103–104; I.Paphos 72–73; cf. Paphos:244 (“a leader of the priests of Aphrodite”); Mitford 1990:2180 and n20–21.
[ back ] 116. Hesykhiοs’ definition of ἁγήτωρ as “the priest in Cyprus who leads the offerings of Aphrodite” (ὁ τῶν Ἀφροδίτης θυηλῶν ἡγούμενος ἱερεὺς ἐν Κύπρῳ) finds epigraphic confirmation at Paphos ca. 105–188, and somewhat earlier at Amathous: see ExcCyp 105; HIOP 99 (ἡγητορευκότων, line 4); I.Paphos 79; cf. Blinkenberg 1924:33.
[ back ] 117. Plutarch Cato the Younger 35; quotation Hogarth 1889:3–4 (closely followed by Frazer 1914 1:43); cf. Mitford 1990:2180; HC:204–208; Paphos:157, 244.
[ back ] 118. Mitford 1990:2180–2181.
[ back ] 119. The stone is now lost. See ExcCyp 101; SEG 40:1365 (cf. 1319); I.Paphos 181. This obscure inscription was ultimately interpreted as the dedication of a son to his Kinyrarch father by Mitford 1990:2181n21, who would read: [ὁ ἀρχιερεὺς Ἀφρο]δίτης | Διονυσό[δωρος vv τὸν δεῖνα] Διονυσίου | Κινύραρ[χον, εὐεργέτην τοῦ δή]μου, φιλοτειμίας | καὶ φι[λοστοργίας χάριν], τὸν πατέρα. For earlier alternatives, see ExcCyp:249; Mitford 1947:229n121. Cf. HIOP:13; Masson 1986:455–456.
[ back ] 120. Mitford 1990:2181–2182, who continues “but this text stands isolated in a period from which nothing else concerning the priesthood of Aphrodite survives.” Similarly, HIOP:13.
[ back ] 121. Unless the two are mere incidental variants.
[ back ] 122. Cf. Σ Pindar Pythian 2.27b: “This is the Kinyras, [sc. beginning] from whom the Kinyradai in Cyprus have dedicated themselves to the goddess” (ὁ δὲ Κινύρας οὗτός ἐστιν, ἀφ’ οὗ οἱ ἐν Κύπρῳ Κινυρίδαι [sic] τῇ θεῷ ἀνιέρωνται).
[ back ] 123. EFH:57. Cf. above p115, 155.
[ back ] 124. As suggested by Ribichini 1982:494.
[ back ] 125. See p380–383, 392–393, 432–436.
[ back ] 126. An ἀρχός (a-ra-ko-se) named Satrapas(?) has been found in a syllabic inscription of the later fourth century. Apparently a religious functionary within the court of Nikokles, he describes himself as “mouthpiece of the goddess” (ὀ[(μ)φι]ϝοχεῦσι τᾶς ϝανά[σ(σ)ας), and helped develop the oracular hypogeum to Apollo Hylátēs near Nea Paphos: Mitford 1960a; ICS 2–3; Masson 1988b:64; NPHP:77–79, 113; DGAC:729–730 no. 2–3. Whether he was more or less equivalent to the later ὁ ἀρχὸς τῶν Κινυραδῶν is impossible to say (but note the interesting speculations of Mitford 1960a:6; Cayla 2005:236).
[ back ] 127. Cf. Cayla 2005:239: “le souverain kinyrade était l’incarnation du parèdre de la Souveraine, la Wanassa.”
[ back ] 128. Thus, against the ‘lyric’ Eumolpos < Eumolpidai or Ametor < Ametoridai (see p234) one may place the Asklepiadai (the medical clan of Kos who made Asklepios their ancestor) and the Talthybiadai (heralds of Sparta, from Agamemnon’s herald: Herodotos 7.134; cf. Chaniotis 1990:94–95). For Homer as a fictional eponym of the Homeridai, see inter al. Durante 1971–1974 2:185–204.
[ back ] 129. The goddess Ipemedeja, for instance, is known from a Pylian offerings tablet (PY Tn 316 = DMG:172), where she appears in company with Poseidon. In the post-palatial decline, she lost her privileges, whether suddenly or gradually—there is no cult attested for her in later historical sources—but lingered on in epic memory as Iphimedeia, the mother of Otos and Ephialtes by Poseidon (Homer Odyssey 11.305–308). See further Gérard-Rousseau 1968:116–118, with entries for other vanished palatial gods like Dopota, Tiriseroe, Manasa, and Dirimijo; cf. MgP:259; DMG:288; GR:43.