Art Martzavou, Dream, Narrative and The Construction of Hope in 'Healing Miracles' of Epidauros, en Unveiling Emotions 2012 PDF

Stuttgart 2012
PARASKEVI MARTZAVOU
Dream, Narrative, and
the Construction of Hope
in the ‘Healing Miracles’ of Epidauros
DREAM, NARRATIVE, AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF HOPE
IN THE ‘HEALING MIRACLES’ OF EPIDAUROS
Paraskevi Martzavou
1 SLEEPING IN EPIDAUROS
In antiquity the ill could turn to the divine for healing by visiting the shrines of
healing gods, notably that of Asklepios. The healing procedure involved incuba-
tion: a patient would spend a night within the sacred premises in order to receive a
divine visitation in the form of a dream. This practice is described in a striking
way by Aristophanes in his play Ploutos; Karion, the servant, gives an account of
the bringing of the blind Ploutos to the sanctuary of Asklepios, probably in
Piraeus, in order for Ploutos to be cured from his blindness by the god.1 Karion
describes the healing procedure as follows: After the completion of preliminary
rites, the patients are put to sleep in a special place and the priests lie in the same
location. After a while, Asklepios enters with a number of assistants including two
snakes. With the help of his assistants, the god applies ointments to the patients
and cures them. Ploutos has his sight restored – and hence follows a vivid expres-
sion of joy by Karion and the other characters in the play.
The cure described in the narrative of Aristophanes takes place on the prem-
ises of the Asklepios shrine in Attica. Several Asklepieia have been found scat-
tered around the Greek world. A famous one of these shrines was located in Epi-
dauros, and from it we have a series of inscriptions depicting instances of mi-
raculous healing (iamata). These were drawn up at the end of the fourth century
BCE by one or more compilers, probably by members of the priestly personnel.2
The iamata confirm the testimony of Aristophanes concerning the role of incu-
bations and sleeping or dreaming experience in the healing procedure, which also
included purifying baths and sacrifices and took place in sanctuaries. 3 Four stelae
bearing such texts survive today. Pausanias, the traveller of the second century
CE, mentions them and he specifies that, in his day, six plaques were exposed, but
1 Aristophanes, Ploutos 649–763; see Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, T421.

2 Main editions: IG IV2.1.121–124; Herzog 1931 (text with German translation and commenta-
ry); Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 221–237 T234 (text and English translation); LiDonnici
1995 (text with English translation and commentary); Prêtre and Charlier 2009 (text, French
translation, detailed philological and medical commentary); further bibliography in Chaniotis
1988, 19; LiDonnici 1995; Prêtre and Charlier 2009. On language and style: Nehrbass 1935.
On the relation between the iamata and local historiography: Chaniotis 1988, 19–23 T2. On
their compilation by priests: Sineux 2007.
3 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 145–158.
178 Paraskevi Martzavou
in earlier times there were probably more.4 Apart from the iamata, miraculous
healings are described in individual dedications to Asklepios, but we are not deal-
ing with this documentation here.5
The iamata inscriptions detail the relationship between the god Asklepios and
several other characters, namely patients. As texts, they prove to be sophisticated
literary compositions, and ultimately they seem to be relevant to the relationship
of the drafter to the audience consisting of readers, pilgrims, and auditors. In that,
they are similar to more sophisticated genres of literary creation, notably to epic
and tragic poetry. These texts with extremely detailed descriptions (ἐνάργεια) and
dramatic elements (περιπέτεια) – both features of literary creation – lead the
audience to metaphorical and literal catharsis through ‘pity and fear’, to refer to
Aristotle’s definition of tragedy.6 The final aim of these texts is to arouse the emo-
tions of hope and confidence in members of the audience, who would have been
people seeking a cure. The healing procedure can thus be described as an emo-
tional path: after the suffering caused by illness and the agonising wait for well-
ness, the arrival of a successful cure produces emotions of relief and hope. In this
paper, I aim to identify and explain emotions sought through narrative techniques
in the context of the Asklepion. My ultimate goal is to demonstrate the value of
the ‘miracle inscriptions’ as a source for the socio-cultural construction of emo-
tions in ancient Greece and for the history of emotions in general.
2 FROM DREAMS TO NARRATIVE AND EMOTIONS
The importance of dreams is a key parameter in the construction of the narrative

of these healing inscriptions. The experience of a dream was the main means of
diagnosis and healing in the sanctuaries of Asklepios, as we can also judge from
other sources.7 However, as has been already highlighted, the accounts of dreams
are not simply dreams per se, but the representation of the dream experience as
narrative.8 These texts should be considered as compositions, not as direct ac-
counts of dreams.
4 Pausanias 2.36.1.
5 For individual accounts of healings see Girone 1998, 5, who does not treat the iamata
inscriptions.
6 On the concept of catharsis as a metaphor taken from the medical world in order to under-
stand the function of tragedy, see Sifakis 2001, 72–113. On enargeia see pp. 107–109 in this
volume.
7 The recording of healing stories, in an institutionalised way, is a feature characteristic of other
sanctuaries of Asklepios, for example the sanctuary of Asklepios in Lebena in Crete (I.Cret.
I.xvii.8–12) and the sanctuary of Aesculapius in the Tiber island at Rome (IGUR 148; cf.
Renberg 2006/2007, esp. 93–95 and 137–139); see Rhodes and Osborne 2003, 539. For
Epidauros see the record of miraculous healing in IG IV2.1.126. Even though this inscription
comes from a much later period (117 CE), this text attests a combination of a diagnostic and
healing procedure based equally on dreams and on advice concerning modification of
behaviour (e.g. practicing moderate exercise).
8 Stewart 1997, 877–894.
Dream, Narrative, and the Construction of Hope in the ‘Healing Miracles’ of Epidauros 179
The approximately seventy stories of Epidauros, distributed across four stelae,

are unevenly preserved. Two stelae (A and B; see Appendix, pp. 196–203) hold
20 and 23 complete narratives respectively, whereas the stories recorded in two
further stelae (C and D) survive only incompletely (23 and 4 entries respectively).
In what follows, I shall focus on stelae A and B, only occasionally using the
material from stelae C and D. The text, as a compilation of an important number
of healing stories, is an illustration of the powers of the god. In that sense, it is
conceptually very close to the genre of aretalogy, the praise of the power (arete)
of a god (cf. pp. 267–290 in this volume), as it records the power of the god
manifested in his wonder-working. In that sense also, the healing stories are quite
closely related to religious acclamations.9 At the same time, the stelae that survive
today can be broadly perceived as religious dedications – that is, as religious
gestures in the context of communication between the divine and the human
sphere, as well as between humans themselves.10
However, even while tackling the complex semantic character of the iamata,
my specific goal in this chapter is not to define these texts by attributing them to a
particular genre, but to evaluate them as a source for the study of emotions in
ancient Greece. So rather than gradually moving towards a precise definition, I
shall pay attention to the content of the inscriptions, the types of tales, the style of
the presentation (language, rhetorical elements), the modes of linguistic expres-
sion and the tropes in use, the arrangement of the individual stories, the general
narrative, and the organisational principles in each individual stele and in the en-
semble of stories, inasmuch as these elements are relevant for the central theme of
the present volume, namely emotions. I shall place special emphasis on the narra-
tive techniques and their role in the construction of emotions.
It is important to focus on language, especially language that describes or al-
ludes to emotions. I aim to understand how language works in the specific setting
of a healing sanctuary in the flow of the narrative. Furthermore, I shall try to
identify the object towards which the narrative leads, the function of these tales as
they are presented, and the degree of their success in fulfilling their role. And of
course, special attention must be paid to these texts as material objects, as monu-
mentally presented written records of miracles, to which aspect I shall now turn.
3 CONTEXTUALISING THE EPIDAURIAN TEXTS
The four stelai were probably exposed in front of the eastern wall of a building
designated as the abaton,11 next to a well and an incribed text of political impor-
9 On religious acclamations see Chaniotis 2009a; on acclamations, generally, see pp. 295–312
in this volume.
10 Rüpke 2009, 31–41.
11 See internal evidence (stories A3, A4, B16) and also archaeological evidence, i.e. the
discovery of grooved stele-bases within the abaton building itself, which may indicate that
the stelai were displayed there; LiDonnici 1995, 18 and note 18; Kolde 2003, 1. LiDonnici
mentions as problematic the interpretation of these stele-bases as the actual bases of the
tance: a cult regulation and a song of praise to Asklepios composed by a certain

Isyllos (early third century BCE).12 The positioning of the stelai is relevant to their
emotional impact. The name abaton literally means ‘not to be trodden’, but it is
obvious from the narrative that into this building the people were sent to sleep in
order to dream about their cure.13 However, even if not literally ‘inaccessible’,
this space was probably restricted to those practicing incubation in the sanctuary
in need of a cure or advice.14 The use of the word abaton to indicate the place of
actual incubation is significant; it belongs to a religious perception of space and it
is highly suggestive. We can imagine the emotions of someone, in need of a cure,
when actually entering a place defined as abaton: fear of transgressing a limit,
awe because of the presupposed sacred character of the space, anticipation and
hope for a cure and, in general, emotional tension. On the other hand, the hymn to
Asklepios by Isyllos, with its clearly civic character and aristocratic resonance,
represents the authority under which the miraculous activity took place in the
abaton and in general in the precinct of the sanctuary of Asklepios in Epidauros.15
It is plausible to suggest that both texts contributed to the construction of civic
pride for the Epidaurians. In what follows, I shall try to explore the construction
of these and other emotions in relation to techniques of narrative and especially to
dream narrative. I shall also look at other parameters that shaped the emotions of
people who either visited the sanctuary of Asklepios in Epidauros, or who had
exposure to the Epidaurian texts. For the latter, exposure to the texts could be
either direct or by word of mouth.
4 CAUSES OF SUFFERING AND CURES
What is striking throughout the tales is the non-specialisation of the healing and
comforting offered by the sanctuary. The variety of causes of suffering, and the
diversity of problems considered to be appropriate to bring to Asklepios, is im-
pressive by the standards of modern medicine.16 For instance, suffering because of
lice (Appendix, B8) is considered in the text right after the case of a man with a
festering sore inside his belly (Appendix, B7). No actual distinction between
iamata, since there is only room for four bases in this area and Pausanias mentions six stelai.
But the exposure of four stelai in the abaton does not exclude the exposure of other stelai
elsewhere in the sanctuary. For the abaton in Epidauros see also Girone 1998, 41.
12 Kolde 2003, 1; Kolde throughout her book analyses the meaning of the exposure of a text
with high political significance next to the iamata inscriptions.
13 See e.g. Appendix, A2 line 21 and A11.
14 LiDonnicci 1995, 19.
15 Kolde 2003, 257–301.
16 See Prêtre and Charlier 2009, nos. 1–4, where the authors attempt a diagnostic approach to
these texts, an original breakthrough to the medical reality of the ancient world.
physical and mental cause of suffering is made.17 The importance of psychologi-

cal suffering as a cause of psychosomatic illnesses is apparent throughout these
texts. Also, considerable variety can be detected in the sources of the tales. Picto-
rial and textual dedications must have been an important source from which the
anonymous compiler has drawn material for his narrative. Sometimes a combina-
tion of oral tradition along with simple anatomical dedications (pictorial, textual,
or a combination of both) must have been the source of the story put into narrative
in the ‘miracle inscriptions’.18 An example is the tale that opens the narrative, the
first tale of stele A (Appendix, A1):
Kleo was pregnant for five years. After the fifth year of pregnancy, she came as a suppliant to
the god and slept in the abaton. As soon as she had left it and was outside the sacred area, she
gave birth to a son who, as soon as he was born, washed himself at the fountain and walked
about with his mother. After this success, she inscribed upon an offering: ‘the wonder is not
the size of the plaque, but the act of the god; Kleo bore a burden in her stomach for five years,
until she slept here, and he made her well.’
It seems obvious that the source of this tale lies in an inscribed dedication, a tablet
of some sort, that a woman named Kleo had put up as a dedication in the sanctu-
ary of Asklepios as a sign of gratitude; there would probably also have been an
oral story attached to this dedication which the drafter and compiler of the text
would have taken into account. Simple inscribed dedications must have been as-
sociated, through the passing of time, with legends that circulated by word of
mouth. This must have been the case, for instance, with another story (Appendix,
A4) in which we have an allusion to an object that must have been placed as a
dedication in the sanctuary and which probably caused much curiosity and discus-
sion. In this story, a woman named Ambrosia from Athens, blind in one eye, came
as a suppliant to the god. The god healed her, but because she was doubtful, he
ordered her to dedicate a silver pig in the sanctuary ‘as a memorial of her igno-
rance’.
Thus it seems that, apart from the pictorial and inscribed dedications, the
drafter(s) of the compilation must have drawn on stories that circulated on the
premises of the sanctuary by word of mouth as rumours or ‘sanctuary legends’ (to
coin a term inspired by the concept of ‘urban legends’). For example, one of the
first tales (Appendix, A3) gives neither a name to the protagonist, nor a descrip-
tion of the dedication he made; similarly, the healing story of a mute boy (Appen-
dix, A5) provides neither a name nor an ethnic identity. As in the case of Kleo, an
important source for these tales must lie in the various ‘anatomical’ dedications
that were deposited as dedications in the sanctuaries of Asklepios, either inscribed
17 The same mixture of mental and bodily diseases as the cause of suffering is apparent
throughout the propitiatory inscriptions and dedications of Lydia and Phrygia: see Chaniotis
1995, 323–337.
18 The anatomical votives represent body parts which are healed or expected to be healed by a
deity; see Forsèn 1996. On the various sources upon which the compilers of the iamata could
draw see Herzog 1931, 52–54 and 56; Chaniotis 1988, 21.
or un-inscribed.19 A number of stories must have been circulating by word of

mouth not only on the premises of the sanctuary but also in the cities and villages
that were in contact with the sanctuary, once the pilgrims had returned to their
place of origin. The presence and the importance of audience in the case of the
performance of miracles is indeed crucial. The example given above in Aristo-
phanes’ Ploutos (p. 177) is telling. An inscription from Rome explicitly indicates
that the healed person had to thank the god in public.20
However, the major source of the tales seems to be the dreaming experience
that the people visiting the sanctuary sought in order to find a cure for their physi-
cal or mental illnesses, or a solution to a problem. There must have been a record
in the sanctuary of the dreaming narratives based on the dream experiences of the
visitors. Narrative based on dream experience appears to be the basic source of
‘miracle tales’: the majority of healing stories are based on dreams, and we can
see that 30 out of 46 acts of healing involve dreams.21 The framework for describ-
ing the dreams follows the ‘epiphany convention’. According to this framework,
the dream consists of the appearance to the dreamer of an authoritative personage
who may be either divine or a representative of a god; this figure then conveys
instruction or information.22
5 DREAMS, NARRATIVE, AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF ANXIETY AND

HOPE
The miracle inscriptions, without being exclusively dream records, are fully
packed with dream narratives. At first sight, the narratives do not seem to be ar-
ranged according to an order. However, a narrative is the result of an intention and
usually the product of editing. It does not deliver just pure information, but it can
represent or include the manipulation of that information for the fulfilment of
specific goals. When reading through the miraculous stories, we should ask our-
selves not only what the story says but also why the drafter wants us to know it
and in what ways he chooses to inform us. Through the narrative of these texts, I
will attempt to detect some of the intentions of the drafters of the compilation and
the ways they used to fulfil their intentions, and I will focus on the construction of
19 Petsalis-Diomidis 2007, 214–217.

20 See IGUR I 148 (inscription from the sanctuary of Asklepios on the insula Tiberina in Rome).
It is obvious that the worshipper after his rescue was expected to come to the sanctuary and
express in public his gratitude to the god. See Girone 1998, 157f.; Chaniotis 2009b, 120.
21 Rhodes and Osborne 2003, 541.
22 Harris 2009, 4, 52–57, 278. Harris thinks that this kind of dream occurs very seldom in our
experience and that this pattern is merely a narrative convention that eventually disappears.
However, there are modern attestations of this phenomenon. ‘Epiphany dreams’ occur for
instance in a collection of cures published by the monastery of Archangelos in Thasos (Τὸ
προσκύνηµα τοῦ Ἀρχαγγέλου Μιχαὴλ τῆς Θάσου, Thasos 2008, nos. 15, 19, and 23) and in
notebooks from the village of Koronos in Naxos: see Stewart 2012.
two basic emotions: anxiety and hope. I will then evaluate these emotions as they
were operating in the context of the healing procedure.
It is in fact of great interest that in the opening tale (Appendix, A1), the story
of Kleo cited above (p. 181), the dreaming experience does not seem central.
Despite the fact that the majority of the tales involve a dream narrative based on
dreaming experience, this first story does not involve such narrative. We do know
that Kleo slept in the abaton, but we know neither whether she had a coherent
dream nor the content of any dream. In view of the importance of the dreaming
experience in the ‘miracle inscriptions’ in general, the fact that this story inaugu-
rates the series becomes significant; this initial lack of clarity about a coherent
dreaming experience would be confusing especially for the reader in need of a
cure who came to a sanctuary where the main means of diagnosis and cure was
the practice of incubation and the experience of a dream. What should the reader
who came to sleep in order to dream expect? This uncertainty concerning the
prospect of a dream would be a source of worry and anxiety – we might wonder if
this was the very effect sought by the drafter of the compilation.23
More anxiety might be experienced through ignorance of the form to be taken
by the divine in a possible encounter, in or outside a dream. In the narrative of the
first tale, the word used to denote the divine is τὸν θεόν (line 4), ‘the god’ – but
which god? We must bear in mind that the inscribed text begins with a heading
which reads: ‘God, Good Fortune; Healings by Apollo and by Asklepios’. Which
one of the two divine personae will come to the aid of the human in need? And in
what form? The anxiety that is constructed though uncertainty concerning the
prospect of a dream is made more sophisticated through the vagueness of the form
of the encounter with the divine. In line 8, where we have the citation of the origi-
nal inscription on the plaque dedicated by the woman, the term used is τὸ θεῖον,
‘the divine’; this is a rather impersonal way to indicate the divinity, without gen-
der or form (human or animal).24 An uncertain encounter with an indefinite ‘di-
vine’ could be a source of serious anxiety for a reader in need of a cure. Although
the indefinite character already exists in the text of the dedication that must have
inspired the narrative in which it is quoted, we have to bear in mind that the nar-
rative was the product of composition and editing.25 We are dealing here with an
effort of editing from the drafter of the compilation in order to manipulate the
emotions of the reader.
However, during the course of the second story (Appendix, A2) things
change; the vagueness concerning the nature of the dream experience and the
form that the encounter with the divine might take disappears:
A three-year pregnancy. Ithmonika of Pallene came to the sanctuary to have children. Sleep-
ing here she saw a vision. It seemed that she asked the god if she could conceive a daughter,
23 See the analogies with the collection of miracles of the monastery of Archangelos in Thasos
(note 22).
24 The translation of the term θεῖον can vary according to the context. For instance Girone 1998,
II 2, translates the term θεῖον, used in the hymn to Asklepios by Isyllos, as ‘ l’evento divino’.
25 See Chaniotis 1988, 20 and note 41.
and Asklepios answered that she could and that if she asked anything else that he would do
that as well, but she answered that she didn’t need anything more. She became pregnant and
bore the child in her stomach for three years, until she came again to the god as a suppliant,
concerning the birth. Sleeping here, she saw a vision. The god appeared, asking whether eve-
rything she had asked had not happened and she was pregnant. She had not said anything
about the birth, and he had asked her to say whether there was anything more she needed and
he would do it. But since now she had come to him as a suppliant for this, he said he would
do it for her. Right after this, she rushed out of the abaton, and as soon as she was outside the
sacred area, gave birth to a daughter.
In the very first lines of the tale the ‘god’ is introduced to the reader; he is imme-
diately identified as Asklepios. In contrast with the tale A1, not only do we have
the specific name of the god who is coming to the aid of the human, but we are
also provided with the extremely coherent dream experience of a woman in need
of help; we have a narrative based on a first dream in a first phase (before the pre-
gnancy) and on a second dream in a second phase (before the birth). The second
dream is supposed to follow the first after a three-year gap. The dialogue between
the human and the god is referred to in indirect speech; this dialogue is so cohe-
rent that it can be continued even after a gap of three years and in that way the two
dream narratives of A2 are connected to each other. Thus, we can read the petition
of a woman to Asklepios; and then we read the continuation of that petition which
aims to correct the woman’s incomplete first petition (i.e. asking initially to con-
ceive a daughter, but not actually to give birth to the child). In this case, the divi-
nity is clearly indicated by the anonymous narrator as the male god Asklepios.
From the indefinite indication of the identity of the divine in the first tale, we
progress to a tale which unambiguously defines the divinity: it is Asklepios, the
god who dwells in the sanctuary of Epidauros. The second story (Appendix, A2)
is thematically related to the first one (A1) – in both cases the theme is an
extended pregnancy – and this gives unity to these two stories that function as a
basis for the construction of the personality of the divine, even though the god is
openly presented only in the second story. These two initial tales may differ in
regard to their function in the overall narrative, but thanks to their thematic con-
nection they work very well in a complementary way. In the dream narratives of
stele A, the god appears several times.26 Given the fact that the dream is a highly
personal experience, it is noteworthy that all of these people dreamed of Askle-
pios. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that they dreamed of someone they
thought was Asklepios – at least that is what the compiler wanted the reader to
believe.
The construction of the personality of the god is carefully accomplished
through the tales of the first stele. The nine tales that actually include an encounter
with the divinity describe the divinity as a mature male. An instructive example is
the very well constructed dialogue of A2 which includes the petition for a pre-
gnancy by the woman, followed by questions by the god who, in a manner of a
thoughtful merchant taking an order, tries to specify the character of the petition.
The dialogue continues three years later, when the pregnancy had been achieved
26 Appendix, A2, A3, A4, A8, A9, A12, A13, A18, A19.
but – alas – not the labour. The god, in a manner of a meticulous entrepreneur,
recalls the wording of the petition; in a highly rational way with a dose of humour,
he reassures her that he will take notice of her new petition and will fulfil it. The
god in this case is presented like a teaser with a deadpan sense of humour. The
fact that the god is presented like an individual with absolutely good intentions
makes it easier for the reader to engage emotionally with the constructed image of
‘the god’ who in fact has a name – Asklepios – rather than with an abstract and
general idea of the divine. The communication with the divine is analogous to the
communication between humans.
It is easier to know what emotion to experience when the divinity is presented
as a benevolent man who, like a pedantic teacher, is trying through teasing to
‘teach a lesson’ to his pupils so that they are more accurate next time when they
hand in their essay (or petition, in this case).27 This is highly reassuring for the
readers who are puzzled by their own personal problems of physical or mental
health and by their suffering in general; and therefore it assuages their frustration.
Concerning the individual stories of the narrative, it is remarkable that the
story concerning the suspicious man (Appendix, A8) brings to mind the well-
known story of ‘doubting Thomas’ in the New Testament.28 This happens because
these two stories have a common theme, namely the doubts of a human concern-
ing the powers of the divinity (healing in the case of Asklepios, resurrection in the
case of Jesus Christ). They also have an analogous function in the general narra-
tive, as they both illustrate a moral and religious lesson: the doubting individual is
relieved of his doubts but, as a penalty, he is given the name ‘the Unbeliever’, so
that his name becomes associated with doubt in approaching the divine. This act
of naming establishes a permanent blame, setting the individual up as an example
of the proverbial ‘doubter’. The existence of patterns in common with other re-
ligious contexts, not always related to dreams, requires an explanation. As we
have stressed above, we are not dealing here with the raw material of the dream-
ing experience but with the narrative that has the dreaming experience as its
source. This narrative is not the direct product of the individual who experienced
the dream, but it is the processed product of a community of priests and their
helpers, and of other people who narrated their experiences as dreamers to the
religious officials of Epidauros. It is understandable then that in the miracle in-
scriptions we find patterns of narrative that also occur elsewhere.29
It is worth emphasising that this type of story that has a punitive theme works
towards the construction of the fear inspired by the divine – the fear of punish-
ment – either because one has been doubtful or because one has forgotten to pay
27 In this regard, Asklepios, as presented in this story, is similar to Asklepios as the latter is
constructed through the narrative of Aelius Aristides’ Sacred Tales; that is, as a teacher of
rhetoric who orders Aristides to start again to write and speak, who presents him to Plato and
Sophocles, and who writes even his words for him; see Petsalis-Diomidis 2007, 211.
28 See Herzog 1931, 95, 99, 125 for other narratives (pagan or Christian) concerning doubt or
disbelief.
29 Stewart 1997, 877–894.
respect to the god after his or her cure.30 This function can be attributed to a series
of tales in the Epidaurian compilation of miracles.31 The second tale (Appendix,
A2) is constructed as an exercise for the patient’s – and the reader’s – imagina-
tion. It demands a certain amount of attention in order to follow the dialogue in
indirect speech, and it becomes obvious that this story bears the following
moral for the reader: ‘be careful when you ask for something from the god, for it
might come true’ – a moral that could be unpacked as follows: ‘when you ask
something of a god, try to use your imagination, try to be clever. Think of the
ambiguities of language, think of the traps that exist in the words; and remember,
if something goes wrong, don’t blame it on the god, blame it on your own lack of
imagination, lack of intelligence, and use of the wrong formulas.’ This particular
story, based on a dream narrative, represents for the reader a sort of awakening to
the difficulties and the complexities of the communication with the divine, espe-
cially through the means of the dream. Communication is not less complicated
with the divine than with fellow humans: one has to be vigilant. This realisation
might put the reader in a state of intellectual alertness.
As mentioned above, the compositional background of these healing miracles
is extremely varied; these texts can be considered as sorts of ‘snapshots’ in a con-
stant process of reworking. We should not however hold that these texts are hap-
hazard amalgamations of random stories. It takes little attention in order to dis-
cover that we are in front of quite sophisticated compilations. As it has been con-
vincingly suggested, the reading and the discussion of the iamata was an impor-
tant preparatory activity before the incubation.32 At this point, our effort must be
focused on the possible existence of a compositional principle and on the function
that it might serve especially for the arousal of emotions.
In order to better understand the construction of the narrative as a means of
arousing emotions, let us look at the texts through the eyes of a first time reader.
Special attention must be paid to the language. It does not lack ambiguities, and
this fact, though it does not serve well the descriptions of the sufferings of the
characters from the medical point of view, contributes to the presentation of these
texts as part of the wonder-working of the god.33 A telling example is the word
chosen as title of the inscription: ἰάµατα; the first sense of the word is ‘therapeu-
tic remedy’ and in that way, it is synonymous with the word φάρµακον.34 The
reader was actually reading something which could be understood both as the
story of a cure but also as a ‘remedy’ in itself. In this context, the very title of the
compilation could indicate to the audience the function of these texts. The double
meaning of the word iamata (story of healing/remedy) could even provoke a
‘placebo effect’ to the suggestible reader.
30 Cf. pp. 201–230 in this volume, on the construction of the fear of god.
31 E.g. A3, A7, A9, B2, B16, C4.
32 LiDonnici 1992, 25–41.
33 Prêtre and Charlier 2009, 39.
34 Prêtre and Charlier 2009, 32.
From the beginning of the story A1 and then in the story A2, the reader’s at-
tention is gripped through the strong images created by the simple words used to
describe the situation and construct the tale. The impressive graphic details of the
first two stories seem hard to swallow; for instance that the child born after a
pregnancy that lasted five years was able to wash himself and crawl around his
mother immediately after birth. In the second example, the god gratified the
woman with a pregnancy but not with a labour, since, literally, she did not ask for
a labour but only for a pregnancy. Before the reader finds time to digest what s/he
has just been reading, and probably at the moment when doubts would start to
arise about the trustworthiness of these two tales, another story (Appendix, A3)
begins where the protagonist, a man paralysed in his fingers, is presented as hav-
ing some serious doubts about the truth of the narrated tales in the dedications
(pictorial or inscribed), as he wanders around the sanctuary. However, he is hav-
ing a dream in which the god interacts with him, stretching his fingers one by one,
and taking the opportunity to chat with him (as a doctor would), asking him
whether he will continue to doubt regarding the narratives of the sanctuary of Epi-
dauros. The man replies negatively but the god still gives him the name Ἄπιστος
(Suspicious). Then comes another tale of a suspicious woman (Appendix, A4)
who is depicted as even laughing at the stories on the inscribed dedications of
people claiming that they were healed just by having a dream. Yet when it is her
turn to have a dream while she is sleeping at the sanctuary, the god appears to her
and promises that he will heal her but would like in return a silver piglet as a
dedication and a ‘memorial of her ignorance’ (ὑπόµνηµα ἀµαθίας). The drafter
of the text, judging that these two stories of ‘punitive’ miracles were enough to
describe the god as capable of punishing the doubtful and the scornful, returns
with a tender story of a child (Appendix, A5) who, unable to speak, came with his
father in order to find a cure in Epidauros; which duly happens.
The stories have a didactic character and goal, and this is illustrated by the
tale of Pandaros.35 Pandaros from Thessaly had στίγµατα (‘marks’) on his fore-
head and, after sleeping in the Asklepios sanctuary, was cured. He ordered an-
other man to offer a dedication on his behalf, giving him at the same time the
money to do that. But the man, who apparently was also seeking some sort of
cure, did not do as Pandaros told him, and kept the money. The god asked him in
a dream if he had money for a dedication on behalf of Pandaros but the man
denied it. He also said that if the god healed him, he would offer a dedication. The
god, apparently irritated by his lies, tricked him, and the man left the sanctuary
with the στίγµατα of Pandaros. After this story, which shows a vengeful face of
the god, comes another story which shows a completely different aspect of
Asklepios (Appendix, A8). It is the story of a small child from Epidauros who
came and slept at the sanctuary in order to be cured from a ‘stone’. The god
appeared to him in a vision and asked the child what he would give him if he was
35 Appendix, A6; discussed by Chaniotis 1997, 152f. On the possible medical background of the
στίγµατα see Prêtre and Charlier 2009, 40–45.
healed. The child replied: ten knucklebones.36 The god laughed and cured him.
This episode reveals a completely different – gentle and tender – aspect of the
god. From this small specimen of tales as they are arranged in the narrative of the
first stele, it is obvious that the placement of the individual tales in the general
narrative of stele A is not random but is done according to a principle that serves a
specific goal; it engages the reader with the characters and the stories of the
narrative and arouses a number of emotions: anxiety, fear, and of course hope.
Hope is one of the most important emotions for the reader in need of a cure.
6 DREAM NARRATIVE AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF HOPE
Even though the achievement of a coherent dream was the main diagnostic and
healing procedure, as mentioned earlier, not all of the tales include a narrative
based on dream experience. There are exceptions: no dream is involved in the
story of how a broken cup miraculously was put together again by the invisible
intervention of the god (Appendix, A10). For the restored ‘whole’ cup, ὑγιῆ
(‘healthy’) is the word used in the text, and the metaphor is telling. Nor does the
story of lame Nikanor, whose crutch was grabbed by some boy ‘while he was
awake’, have a dream associated with it (Appendix, A16). As Nikanor got up to
chase the boy, he walked without difficulty ‘and from then on he became well’;
likewise, there is no dream in the story of a blind boy who had his eyes treated by
one of the dogs about the sanctuary ‘while he was awake’ and left cured
(Appendix, A20). As human experience suggests, the achievement of a coherent
dream is not always possible. The narrative of the miracle inscription had to deal
with this possibility and the anxiety that this might generate.
The function of the non-dream tales, randomly distributed through the
narrative of all four stelae, is probably to comfort the reader in need of a dream
who, despite his or her incubation in the abaton, could not experience a coherent
dream. In addition, in some cases, the narrative clearly indicates that the
achievement of a coherent dream is in fact impossible (e.g., Appendix, B5 and
B13). It is significant that in these cases, the action of the god is expressed in
another way: for instance, as a woman was unable to have a dream and was
carried homeward (Appendix, B5), she and her attendants met up in the middle of
their trip with a handsome man who, on the spot, performed an operation – he cut
open the belly of the woman and took out so many ‘creatures’ that they were able
to fill two basins. After sewing up the woman’s belly, the man revealed his
identity; he was, of course, Asklepios, who ordered the woman to send her offer-
ing to Epidauros. The encounter with the divinity in this tale resembles in many
ways the encounters with the divine in the other tales: we have a suffering person
who, after having put her hopes in the god, is cured through an operation. The
difference is that, in this case, we have an epiphany of the divinity in real life and
36 A. Chaniotis informed me that knucklebones have been found in the sanctuary of Asklepios
in Lissos (Crete).
not in a dream. In addition, the god operates far from the sanctuary, literally in the
middle of the road. The moral here is that there is a solution even for those who
are experiencing difficulties in the exercise of dream hunting – that, again, ‘there
is hope’.
7 AN APPARENT DISORDER ...
The narrative is constituted by a succession of tales and it is structured with the

help of headings that introduce individual healing stories37 – the existence of
headings seems to be a rule throughout stelae B, C, and probably D. In stele A, the
headings exist, but they seem less prominent than in the subsequent stelae. In
many cases, only a personal name and an ethnic identity are listed. In some cases,
the heading consists of the name of a person and the main characteristic of his
suffering, such as the name of the illness, when available. In fact, the sources of
suffering can be more diverse than just an illness; such examples include the
breaking of a cup (Appendix, A10), baldness (A19), disappearance of a child
(B4), lice (B8), and frustration in the search of a buried treasure (C3). In that
sense, the general impression of human suffering, throughout the miracle
inscriptions of Epidauros, is somewhat chaotic because the sources of suffering
are not only diverse but are also linked to subjective impressions – such as
suffering caused by a broken cup, or frustration because of an ineffective treasure
hunt. In these cases, it is clearly the reaction to the event that is the cause of the
suffering and not the event itself. As has been noted, this apparent disorder is a
metaphor for the effect of suffering on human life, but this impression is
countered by order, in the form of the architecture of the sanctuary and of the
ritual.38 Likewise, the subversive element of surprise in the miracle narratives
alludes to what an audience consisting of sick people expected from the miracle
inscriptions. It constitutes the matter out of which their hope is made.
8 ALL YOU HAVE TO DO ...
It is noteworthy that, according to the narrative of the miracle inscriptions, dealing

with illness, its effects, and with human suffering in general, is achieved by taking
practical action. What Asklepios has to offer is not a ‘philosophical’ handling of
the situation and a transformation from within the individual, but rather an actual
cessation of the cause of the subjective suffering, independent from the degree of
objective seriousness of the situation. For instance, in the case of the bald man
(Appendix, A19) who was hurt from the reaction of others to his baldness: it is not
the patient who, thanks to the intervention of Asklepios, changes from within in
order to help re-arrange his values and stop suffering; it is the physical cause of
37 See A2, A4–A6, A8, A10, A13–A20, B1–B3, B5, B6.

38 Petsalis-Diomedis 2007, 183–218.
suffering that miraculously changes, and, in fact, ceases. In that sense, the repre-
sentation of the god is constructed as that of a tender father who takes care of his
children who are suffering for whatever reason, without trying to underplay the
cause of the suffering. The model of the relationship of the patient to the god here
is that of a child to his father. This way the ‘therapeutic’ operation demands
nothing else from the suffering person than confidence in the power of Asklepios
to cure, in the same way that children believe that adults are capable of doing mi-
raculous things. Hence another moral of the tales: the value of child-like naivety.
This constitutes another pattern which we also find in the New Testament.
However, the differences from the New Testament and, furthermore, the
differences between Asklepios and, say, Jesus Christ as miracle-makers are
important. As Emma and Ludwig Edelstein underline,39 confidence in the power
of the procedure followed in a healing sanctuary should not be synonymous with
the belief or even faith in the god. People came to Epidauros because they were
hoping to be cured from their physical or mental illnesses and not because they
wanted to be ‘saved’ in general. They hoped to be cured independently of whether
they believed that Asklepios was the son of Koronis or indeed of someone else,
and regardless of whether they believed that he was a hero or a god. All these
details were of no importance in the construction of their hope to achieve cure,
even though the text exposed next to the iamata, the hymn of Isyllos (see note
12), gives a certain version of the life and story of Asklepios. We even see
through the narrative of the healing miracles that some people were there because
they were hoping to be cured, even though they were in doubt about the effective-
ness of the healing procedure.
9 TECHNIQUES FOR THE AROUSAL OF EMOTIONS
The four stelae seem to have different organisational principles, but we can
attempt to identify them only for stelae A and B, since they are preserved in good
condition. While the stories of the first stele A seem to be arranged in order to
provide the god with a personality, a necessary element for a personal relationship
with the divine, and suggest a link between the healing and the requital of the debt
towards the god,40 the stories in the second stele B are arranged in a way that
creates a whole range of strong images that alternate in an unpredictable manner
for someone who reads the texts for the first time. The story of a man who, struck
with a spearhead though both his eyes, carried the spearhead around in his face
(Appendix, B12) is immediately followed by the story of a man who, unable to
achieve a dream, was carried back to his hometown, while one of the snakes of
the sanctuary was twined around the axle of his wagon; when he arrived home,
the snake cured him. While the narratives in stele A aim to construct a human
personality for the divine, some of the stories in stele A, and mostly in stele B,
39 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 145 and 161f.

40 Rhodes and Osborne 2003, 540.
seem to deconstruct the human aspect of the god’s personality by presenting other
miraculous agents that provide the cure.41 This deconstruction provokes confusion
in the reader and, again, puts him in a state of intellectual alertness.
Given the fact that these texts narrate encounters with the divinity during the
dreaming experience, it is remarkable that words indicating emotion are extremely
rare. We should expect an emotional reaction before, during, and after an en-
counter with the divine, and we can easily imagine the protagonists of these
stories as sad because of their physical and mental suffering; frustrated because of
possible previous failed efforts to find a cure; and finally anticipating, hoping for
a cure. However, it is clear that the anonymous compiler of this text chose not to
indicate with specific words the emotional states of the characters of these tales
concerning either their own suffering or their emotional reaction during and after
a divine encounter. Instead, the effort of the drafter is concentrated on the
extremely vivid description of the physical aspect of some of these illnesses. From
this element, we can deduce that his focus was not on describing the emotions of
the characters in the tales – these we can in fact easily deduce from the general
narrative – but on constructing a number of emotions in the audience of these
tales. This audience itself would have been filled with people suffering in some
way, since they were visiting the sanctuary of Asklepios and were sleeping in the
abaton where these texts were exposed. This feature suggests that the function of
these texts is not to distract and to please as a literary text would, but to help, in a
specific way, the healing procedure of the people that would come in contact with
the iamata. This element confirms the hypothesis that the reading of the healing
miracles was supposed to be part of the healing procedure. The positioning of the
stelae in the abaton, the heading bearing a word with a double sense, and the
function of the narrative, all identify the sick people in need of a cure as the
audience of these texts. The healing procedure based on the use of narrative has
many anthropological parallels.42
What is noteworthy is the set of techniques used for the construction of strong
images.43 We have here a straightforward description of basic details: the people
(a man, a woman, a child), the wounds and abnormalities. With this minimalist
approach the narrative provides images of great intensity. The pictorial represen-
tations that we often find in dedications in healing sanctuaries accomplish the
same function (see p. 192 figure 1).
The account of dreams is introduced with some formulaic phrases – for
example ἐνεκάθευδε, ἐκατακοιµάθη, ἐγκατακοιµαθεῖσα ὄψιν εἶδε, ἐγκαθεύ-
δων δὲ ὄψιν εἶδε, etc. – after which we are transferred to the time, place, and plot
of the dream. The result is that the reader pays special attention to the dream
41 Appendix, A5: the boy who carries fire for the god; A16: some boy; A17: a snake; B3: the
sons of the god; B6: a dog; B11: a handsome young boy.
42 Dein 2002, 41–63; Pearcy 1988, 377–391.
43 This is an element known in ancient rhetoric and historiography as ἐνάργεια. See Chaniotis
2013 and pp. 102f. in this volume. See also the observations of M. Theodoropoulou on
iconicity in this volume (p. 463).
narrative, which, especially in the context of a healing sanctuary, was believed to

have diagnostic and prophetic qualities. The accomplishment of healing is also
presented in a formulaic, stylised way with some standard sentences: ἔθηκε ὑγιῆ,
ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµένης ὐγιὴς ἐξῆλθε, καὶ ἐκ τούτου ὑγιὴς ἐγένετο etc.
Figure 1. Votive relief dedicated by Archinos, from the sanctuary of the healing hero
Amphiaraos, in Oropos (Boiotia). It depicts the healing hero performing an operation on Archinos’
shoulder (left); on the right, Archinos is depicted lying on a bed, while the hero’s snake bites (?)
his shoulder (c. 400–350 BCE).
Some tales from stele B have a number of particularly gruesome details con-
cerning the suffering of the people and some ‘technical’ details concerning the
procedure of healing, which usually involves some kind of operation taking place
either during a dream or in real time. A woman goes to consult the sanctuary on
behalf of her daughter who has dropsy (Appendix, B1); in her dream, the god cuts
off the head of her daughter and hangs the body neck downwards (as if it were an
animal’s body hanging outside a butcher’s shop). After much fluid has run out,
the god unites the body, putting the head back on the neck. The graphic details of
this dream recall the treatment of the body of animals, which was part of regular,
daily experience (we are dealing after all with societies where the butchering of
animals was not the job of specialists but of almost everyone). The same grue-
someness can be seen in the detail of another story (Appendix, B5; see p. 188),
with reference to two basins filled with ‘creatures’ removed from an ill woman’s
belly. Another entry describes how a man wounded in the lung by an arrow in a
battle filled 67 bowls with pus (Appendix B10). A man who had been struck and
blinded with a spear through both his eyes during a battle (Appendix, B12) is said
to have carried around the spearhead with him, through his face; in his dream, the
god pulled out the dart and fitted the apples of his eyes back into his eyelids. In
the morning he left well. Both the description of the suffering and the operation
which leads to the cure have vivid details, but since no emotion is described, this
way of describing the cure has a detached and ‘clinical’ character – very appropri-
ate in a place with a healing character such as the Asklepieion in Epidauros. As
emphasised above, probably because abstract language is inadequate to express
the emotional intensity of a dream, the verbal description of vivid images is often
more effective.44 The absence of terms denoting emotion and the use of strong
images is a very effective way to express the emotional intensity of the encounter
with the god, even within the context of a dream.
The importance of dreams as a diagnostic tool and a component of the healing
process is obvious from the miracle inscriptions of Epidauros. It is not unrea-
sonable to assume that in a healing environment they were particularly useful,
especially in the cases where the patient was in a state of embarrassment or numb-
ness because of the suffering caused by the illness, or was incapable of producing
a narrative of his illness – thus hindering diagnosis. In these cases, the dream
provides material for narrative and subsequently a way towards diagnosis and
healing. The dreams are used as a major diagnostic tool, as a way to break through
to the cause of suffering. The diagnosis in the case of the miracle inscriptions is
not seen as a preliminary stage of the healing, but as a structural part of it. The
importance of the narrativisation of the illness and its symptoms as a breakthrough
for the diagnosis of the illness and its treatment has already been underlined by
some scholars.45 This way of considering the diagnostic procedure has been
observed in other cultures and has been suggested by anthropological studies. 46
What is also obvious from the non-specialised character of the cures is that, in
general, the notions of happiness, well-being, and health are linked with religious
devotion.47 The function of the miracle inscriptions is to contribute towards the
construction of hope in this religious context – an emotion which is basic for the
general well-being of someone in need of a cure.
10 EMOTIONS AND THEIR WORKING IN A HEALING ENVIRONMENT
From what has been analysed above, it becomes obvious that the drafter of this
compilation aimed at working on the emotional reactions of the reader. He care-
fully staged the different episodes of the narrative in order to create in the reader
an initial tendency towards incredibility, just to annul it a few lines later as an
effect of the narrative of the subsequent episode. There is something theatrical, a
44 Stewart 1997, 878.

45 Pearcy 1992, 595–616.
46 Milne and Howard 2000, 543–570 (in Navajo culture).
47 Compton 1998, 301f.
sort of ‘coup de théâtre’ effect, in the choice of the stories and in the structure of
the narrative, depending on the order in which the stories are presented. The
element of surprise (which aims at a shock reaction) has potentially healing
effects;48 indeed an emotional reaction could be the beginning of the cure. The
reading of the miracle inscriptions was not a way for the patients to ‘kill time’, but
it was part of the healing process. A certain degree of auto-suggestion must have
played an important role in the improvement of the patients’ situations while they
were on the premises of the sanctuary.49 The fact that we do not follow their
stories outside the sanctuary is significant; and when we learn of people who
came back to the sanctuary because the ‘healing’ had not been final, it is always
because they did something wrong in the first place (e.g. Appendix, A2).
The healing power of the miracle narratives is also a phenomenon that has
been observed through anthropological studies.50 Formulaic expressions create a
unity among disparate stories and make them part of a ‘miracle narrative’ irre-
spective of the fact that some of them (the majority, in fact) are based on dream
accounts and some of them have their source in oral stories that were diffused on
the premises of the sanctuary.
11 THE CONSTRUCTION OF ANXIETY AND HOPE
The basic emotions that these texts help to create are anxiety and hope, through
internal evidence (narrative, organisational principals of the narrative, use of the
language, etc.) and also through their positioning in the abaton of the healing
sanctuary of Asklepios. The means are in fact simple, but their use is quite
sophisticated.
As we noted, entering the abaton must have created the feeling that a
boundary was violated and thus caused emotional tension. This tension might
have counterbalanced another tension, the one caused by the physical and mental
sufferings of the people who visited the sanctuary either for their own sake or for
that of a loved one. A distraction is necessary as a way of entering a healing pro-
cedure. Another way of distracting a visitor in need of a cure is to attract his
attention by hard-to-believe stories. In cases of physical pain this diversion may
even act as an analgesic.
A diversity of elements make the reading of these stories very distracting: the
alternation of stories with different subjects and with different or even contradic-
tory descriptions of the action of the god, the rhetorical means that are used, the
element of excess, the quantity of the tales (more than seventy), and the diversity
of numerous types of suffering – extended pregnancies, lice, social ostracism,
numbness, blindness, tattoo marks, stones, leeches; all of these elements make the
reading of these texts very distracting indeed. Along with the anxiety that the
48 For the importance of shock as a form of therapy see Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 168.
49 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 144, 158.
50 Dein 2002, 41–63.
reading of these stories must have inspired – at least after the reading of the first
few lines where the situation that causes the suffering is exposed, and the follow-
ing lines where the plot of the stories eventually becomes complicated – anxiety
for the fate of these people in need of a cure arises. In some cases, when the ill
person is portrayed as an honest person, a strong feeling of compassion can also
develop. The sympathy for the characters and the happy ending of the stories were
very ‘cathartic’ for the reader, in an Aristotelian sense. The formulaic, hypnotic
sentences that are used remind us of fairy tales: ‘when day came, he left well’,
‘and from this, he/she became well’, ‘he/she slept in there (in the abaton) and be-
came well’.
We do not follow the stories of these people after their return home or for
long after their cure. We can suspect, however, that many of them, while they
were ‘miraculously’ cured during their stay in the sanctuary of Asklepios in Epi-
dauros, relapsed after their return home. But that is another story. The material we
have examined suggests that the narrative path through the emotions of anxiety,
uneasiness, shock, relief, and hope, is a metaphor for the path of the reader in
need of a cure from suffering to health.
12 FROM STORIES TO COMMUNITIES
In what precedes, I have tried to demonstrate the importance of these texts in a

healing environment; that is, the importance of their emotional impact on the
audience in need of a cure, as an indispensable part of the healing procedure.
However, to fully understand the significance of these texts in general for the
history of ancient religion and for the history of emotions we have to realise that
the miracle inscriptions were operative not only for the people who actually took
the trouble to go and visit the sanctuary of Asklepios and read these texts but also
for all the people who, during the entire period of the functioning of the sanctuary
of Asklepios, in one way or another came into contact with these texts in the form
of rumours. The readers of these inscriptions in the sanctuary of Asklepios con-
tributed to the diffusion of these stories, by word of mouth, as rumours, when they
were returning back to their home cities. The practice of reading and discussing
these texts must be considered as constitutive of a sort of a temporary community
whose members were sharing the emotional impact that the activities of reading
the texts and hearing about the texts were able to achieve. It is the emotional
impact of the texts in written and oral form that created the reputation of the
sanctuary of Asklepios through the years, not the ‘miracles’ themselves, whose
authenticity it was impossible to verify. This is of great importance for the
creation of a common emotional fund which can form another community: that of
the people who received as oral narrative the content of the miracle inscriptions,
and also those who received the emotional impact of these tales. In a religion,
which is not based on a book or written text, the contribution of these texts to the
creation of such types of communities must be fully appreciated. I would like to
stress here the importance of rumours for the arousal of hope and also for the
construction of the divine itself.51 These two combined phenomena can be

observed through Late Antique sources, for instance in collections of miracles of
Christian saints.52
I hope to have shown that an emotions-centred approach helps us better
understand the way these texts were actively operative in the specific cultural
context, namely in healing procedures within a shrine. Being in the intimate space
of private experience (incubation and dreams), yet also offering themselves,
through their narrativisation, as a source for rumours and stories, these texts are an
example of the way in which individual emotional experience becomes a source
of community.
APPENDIX
The healing miracles of Epidauros (stelae A and B)53
Greek text, stele A

θεός. τύχα [ἀγ]αθά. [ἰά]µατα τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος καὶ τοῦ Ἀσκλαπιοῦ.
A1. [Κλ]εὼ πένθ’ ἔτη ἐκύησε. αὕτα πέντ’ ἐνιαυτοὺς ἤδη κυοῦσα ποὶ τὸν [θε]ὸν ἱκέτις ἀφίκετο
καὶ ἐνεκάθευδε ἐν τῶι ἀβάτωι· ὡς δὲ τάχισ[τα] ἐξῆλθε ἐξ αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐκ τοῦ ἱαροῦ ἐγένετο,
κόρον ἔτεκε, ὃς εὐ[θ]ὺς γενόµενος αὐτὸς ἀπὸ τᾶς κράνας ἐλοῦτο καὶ ἅµα τᾶι µατρὶ [π]εριῆρ-
πε. τυχοῦσα δὲ τούτων ἐπὶ τὸ ἄνθεµα ἐπεγράψατο· «οὐ µέγε[θο]ς πίνακος θαυµαστέον, ἀλλὰ
τὸ θεῖον, πένθ’ ἔτη ὡς ἐκύησε ἐγ γαστρὶ Κλεὼ βάρος, ἔστε | ἐγκατεκοιµάθη καί µιν ἔθηκε
ὑγιῆ».
A2. τριέτης [φο]ρά. Ἰθµονίκα Πελλανὶς ἀφίκετο εἰς τὸ ἱαρὸν ὑπὲρ γενεᾶς. ἐγ[κατακοι]µα-
θεῖσα δὲ ὄψιν εἶδε· ἐδόκει αἰτεῖσθαι τὸν θεὸν κυῆσαι κό[ραν]. τὸν δ’ Ἀσκλαπιὸν φάµεν
ἔγκυον ἐσσεῖσθαί νιν, καὶ εἴ τι ἄλλο α[ἰτ]οῖτο, καὶ τοῦτό οἱ ἐπιτελεῖν, αὐτὰ δ’ οὐθενὸς φάµεν
ἔτι ποιδε[ῖ]σθαι. ἔγκυος δὲ γενοµένα ἐγ γαστρὶ ἐφόρει τρία ἔτη, ἔστε παρέβαλε ποὶ τὸν θεὸν
ἱκέτις ὑπὲρ τοῦ τόκου· ἐγκατακοιµαθεῖσα δὲ ὄψ[ι]ν εἶδε· ἐδόκει ἐπερωτῆν νιν τὸν θεόν, εἰ οὐ
γένοιτο αὐτᾶι πάντα ὅσσα αἰτήσαιτο καὶ ἔγκυος εἴη· ὑπὲρ δὲ τόκου ποιθέµεν νιν οὐθέν, καὶ
ταῦτα πυνθανοµένου αὐτοῦ, εἴ τινος καὶ ἄλλου δέοιτο λέγειν, ὡς ποησοῦντος καὶ τοῦτο. ἐπεὶ
51 I owe this formulation to Eleanor Dickey who helped me articulate it in the course of a
workshop in June 2010.
52 For instance in the healing cult of St Demetrios of Thessaloniki (Bakirtzis, Kourkoutidou-
Nikolaidou, and Mavropoulou-Tsioumi 2012, 133f.; Mentzos 1994). His miracles, in the form
of therapeutic dream-visions, are recounted by John the Bishop both as first-hand testimony
and as second-hand accounts (Lemerle 1979–1981, I 52). The same importance of rumour
appears in the miracles of St Cyrus and St John in Egypt, collected by Sophronius: ‘... we wri-
te about what has been done in our own time, some of which we ourselves witnessed, others
we heard from those who saw the events themselves’ (Montserrat 1998, 274). Similar formu-
las are encountered in the miracle narratives of St Menas (Drescher 1946, 108–125). I thank
Chrysi Kotsifou for the last two references.
53 Since we are interested in the textual and narrative structure of the healing miracles, not in
their epigraphic features, we do not present an edition of the text according to the epigraphic
conventions. The Greek text is that of the ‘Searchable Greek Inscriptions’ of the Packard
Humanities Institute (http://epigraphy.packhum.org/inscriptions/main). Not all readings and
restorations are certain, but this does not affect the arguments presented in this chapter. Of
stele B, we only present the first 13 entries, which are better preserved.
δὲ νῦν ὑπὲρ τούτου παρείη ποτ’ αὐτὸν ἱκέτις, καὶ τοῦτό οἱ φάµεν ἐπιτελεῖν. µετὰ δὲ τοῦτο
σπουδᾶι ἐκ τοῦ ἀβάτου ἐξελθοῦσα, ὡς ἔξω τοῦ ἱαροῦ ἦς, ἔτεκε κόραν.
A3. ἀνὴρ τοὺς τᾶς χηρὸς δακτύλους ἀκρατεῖς ἔχων πλὰν ἑνὸς ἀφ̣ίκετο ποὶ τὸν θεὸν ἱκέτας·
θεωρῶν δὲ τοὺς ἐν τῶι ἱαρῶι πίνακας ἀπίστει τοῖς ἰάµασιν καὶ ὑποδιέσυρε τὰ ἐπιγράµµα[τ]α.
ἐγκαθ̣εύδων δὲ ὄψιν εἶδε· ἐδόκει ὑπὸ τῶι ναῶι ἀστραγαλίζον[τ]ος αὐτοῦ καὶ µέλλοντος
βάλλειν τῶι ἀστραγάλωι, ἐπιφανέντα [τ]ὸν θεὸν̣ ἐφαλέσθαι ἐπὶ τὰν χῆρα καὶ ἐκτεῖναί οὑ
τοὺς δακτύλλους· ὡς δ’ ἀποβαίη, δοκεῖν συγκάµψας τὰν χῆρα καθ’ ἕνα ἐκτείνειν τῶν δακτ̣ύ-
λων· ἐπεὶ δὲ πάντας ἐξευθύναι, ἐπερωτῆν νιν τὸν θεόν, εἰ ἔτι ἀπ̣ι στησοῖ τοῖς ἐπιγράµµασι τοῖς
ἐπὶ τῶµ πινάκων τῶν κατὰ τὸ ἱε̣ρόν, αὐτὸς δ’ οὐ φάµεν. «ὅτι τοίνυν ἔµπροσθεν ἀπίστεις
αὐτο[ῖ]ς οὐκ ἐοῦσιν ἀπίστοις, τὸ λοιπὸν ἔστω τοι», φάµεν, «Ἄπιστος ὄν̣[ οµα]». ἁµέ̣ρας δὲ
γενοµένας ὑγιὴς ἐξῆλθε.
A4. Ἀµβροσία ἐξ Ἀθανᾶν [ἁτερό]πτ[ι]λλος. αὕτα ἱκέτις ἦλθε ποὶ τὸν θεόν· περιέρπουσα δὲ
[κατὰ τ]ὸ ἱα̣ρὸν τῶν ἰαµάτων τινὰ διεγέλα ὡς ἀπίθανα καὶ ἀδύνα[τὰ ἐόν]τα, χωλοὺς καὶ τυ-
φλοὺ[ς] ὑγιεῖς γίνεσθαι ἐνύπνιον ἰδόν[τας µό]νον. ἐγκαθεύδουσα δὲ ὄψ̣ιν εἶδε· ἐδόκει οἱ ὁ
θεὸς ἐπιστὰς [εἰπεῖν], ὅτι ὑγιῆ µέν νιν ποιησοῖ, µισθὸµ µάντοι νιν δεησοῖ ἀν[θέµεν ε]ἰς τὸ
ἱαρὸν ὗν ἀργύρεον ὑπόµναµα τᾶς ἀµαθίας. εἴπαν[τα δὲ ταῦτ]α̣ ἀνσχίσσαι οὑ τὸν ὄπτιλλον
τὸν νοσοῦντα καὶ φάρµ[ακόν τι ἐγχέ]αι· ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµένας ὑγιὴς ἐξῆλθε.
A5. παῖς ἄφωνος. [οὗτος ἀφί]κετο εἰς τὸ ἱαρὸν ὑπὲρ φωνᾶς· ὡς δὲ προεθύσατο καὶ [ἐπόησε τὰ]
νοµιζόµενα, µετὰ τοῦτο ὁ παῖς ὁ τῶι θεῶι πυρφορῶν [ἐκέλετο, π]οὶ τὸµ πατέρα τὸν τοῦ παιδὸς
ποτιβλέψας, ὑποδέκεσ[θαι αὐτὸν ἐ]νιαυτοῦ, τυχόντα ἐφ’ ἃ πάρεστι, ἀποθυσεῖν τὰ ἴατρα. [ὁ
δὲ παῖς ἐξ]απίνας «ὑποδέκοµαι», ἔφα· ὁ δὲ πατὴρ ἐκπλαγεὶς πάλιν [ἐκέλετο αὐ]τὸν εἰπεῖν· ὁ
δ’ ἔλεγε πάλιν· καὶ ἐκ τούτου ὑγιὴς ἐγέ[νετο.
A6. Πάνδαρ]ος Θεσσαλὸς στίγµατα ἔχων ἐν τῶι µετώπωι. οὗτος [ἐγκαθεύδων ὄ]ψιν εἶδε·
ἐδόκει αὐτοῦ τα[ι]νίαι καταδῆσαι τὰ στί[γµατα ὁ θεὸς κα]ὶ κέλεσθαί νιν, ἐπεί [κα ἔξω]
γένηται τοῦ ἀβάτου, [ἀφελόµενον τὰ]ν ταινίαν ἀνθέµε[ν εἰ]ς̣ τὸν ν̣αόν· ἁµέρας δὲ γενο[µένας
ἐξανέστα] καὶ ἀφήλετο τ[ὰν ται]νίαν, καὶ τ̣ὸ µὲν πρόσωπον [κενεὸν εἶδε τῶ]ν στιγµάτω[ν,
τ]ὰν δ[ὲ τ]αινίαν ἀνέθηκε εἰς τὸν να[όν, ἔχουσαν τὰ γρ]άµµατ[α] τ̣ὰ ἐκ τοῦ µετώ̣που.
A7. Ἐχέδωρος τὰ Π̣ανδά[ρου στίγµατα ἔλ]αβε ποὶ τοῖς ὑπάρχουσιν. οὗτος λαβὼν πὰρ
[Πανδάρου χρήµατα], ὥστ’ ἀνθέµεν τῶι θεῶι εἰς Ἐπίδαυρον ὑπὲρ αὐ[τοῦ], [οὐκ] ἀπ̣ε δίδου
ταῦτα· ἐγκαθεύδων δὲ ὄψιν εἶδε· ἐδόκει οἱ ὁ θε[ὸς] ἐπιστὰς ἐπερωτῆν νιν, εἰ ἔχοι τινὰ χρήµα-
τα πὰρ Πανδάρου ἐ[ξ Εὐ]θηνᾶν ἄνθεµα εἰς τὸ ἱαρόν· αὐτὸς δ’ οὐ φάµεν λελαβήκειν οὐθὲ[ν]
τοιοῦτον παρ’ αὐτοῦ· ἀλλ’ αἴ κα ὑγιῆ νιν ποήσαι, ἀνθησεῖν οἱ εἰκόνα γραψάµενος· µετὰ δὲ
τοῦτο τὸν θεὸν τὰν τοῦ Πανδάρου ταινίαν περιδῆσαι περὶ τὰ στίγµατά οὑ καὶ κέλεσθαί νιν,
ἐπεί κα ἐξέλθηι ἐκ τοῦ ἀβάτου, ἀφελόµενον τὰν ταινίαν ἀπονίψασθαι τὸ πρόσωπον ἀπὸ τᾶς
κράνας καὶ ἐγκατοπτρίξασθαι εἰς τὸ ὕδωρ· ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµένας ἐξελθὼν ἐκ τοῦ ἀβάτου τὰν
ταινίαν ἀφήλετο, τὰ γράµµατα οὐκ ἔχουσαν· ἐγκαθιδὼν δὲ εἰς τὸ ὕδωρ ἑώρη τὸ αὐτοῦ πρό-
σωπον ποὶ τοῖς ἰδίοις στίγµασιν καὶ τὰ τοῦ Πανδ<ά>ρου γρά[µ]µατα λελαβηκός.
A8. Εὐφάνης Ἐπιδαύριος παῖς. οὗτος λιθιῶν ἐνε[κά]θευδε· ἔδοξε δὴ αὐτῶι ὁ θεὸς ἐπιστὰς
εἰπεῖν· «τί µοι δωσεῖς, αἴ τύ κα ὑγιῆ ποιήσω»; αὐτὸς δὲ φάµεν «δέκ’ ἀστραγάλους». τὸν δὲ
θεὸν γελάσαντα φάµεν νιν παυσεῖν· ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµένας ὑγιὴς ἐξῆλθε.
A9. ἀνὴρ ἀφίκετο ποὶ τὸν θεὸν ἱκέτας ἁτερόπτιλλος οὕτως, ὥστε τὰ βλέφαρα µόνον ἔχειν,
ἐνεῖµεν δ’ ἐν αὐτοῖς µηθέν, ἀλλὰ κενεὰ ε[ἶ]µεν ὅλως. ⟨ἐγέλων⟩ δή τινες τ̣ῶν ἐν τῶι ἱαρῶι τὰν
εὐηθίαν αὐτοῦ, τὸ νοµίζειν βλεψεῖσθαι ὅλως µηδεµίαν ὑπαρχὰν ἔχοντος ὀπτίλλου ἀλλ’ ἢ
χώραµ µόνον. ἐγκαθ̣[εύδο]ν̣τι οὖν αὐτῶι ὄψις ἐφάνη· ἐδόκει τὸν θεὸν ἑψῆσαί τι φά[ρµακον,
ἔπε]ι̣τα διαγαγόντα τὰ βλέφαρα ἐγχέαι εἰς αὐτά· ἁµέρ[ας δὲ γενοµέν]ας βλέπων ἀµφοῖν
ἐξῆλθε.
A10. κώθων. σκευοφόρος εἰ̣[ ς τὸ] ἱαρ[ὸν] ἕρ̣π̣ων, ἐπεὶ ἐγένετο περὶ τὸ δεκαστάδιον, κατέπετ̣ε·
[ὡς δὲ] ἀνέστα, ἀνῶιξε τὸγ γυλιὸν̣ κα[ὶ ἐ]πεσκόπει τὰ συντετριµµένα σκ[ε]ύη· ὡς δ’ εἶδε τὸγ
κώθωνα κατε[αγ]ότα, ἐξ οὗ ὁ δεσπότας εἴθιστο [π]ίνειν, ἐλ̣υπεῖτο καὶ συνετίθει [τὰ] ὄστρακα
καθιζόµενος. ὁδο[ι]πόρος οὖν τις ἰδὼν αὐτόν· «τί, ὦ ἄθλιε», [ἔ]φα, «συντίθησι τὸγ κώθωνα
[µά]ταν; τοῦτον γὰρ οὐδέ κα ὁ ἐν Ἐπιδαύρωι Ἀσκλαπιὸς ὑγιῆ ποῆσαι δύναιτο». ἀκούσας
ταῦτα ὁ παῖς συνθεὶς τὰ ὄστρακα εἰς τὸγ γυλιὸν ἧρπε εἰς τὸ ἱερόν· ἐπεὶ δ’ ἀφίκετο, ἀνῶιξε τὸγ
γυλιὸν καὶ ἐξαιρεῖ ὑγιῆ τὸγ κώθωνα γεγενηµένον καὶ τῶι δεσπόται ἡρµάνευσε τὰ πραχθέντα
καὶ λεχθέντα· ὡς δὲ ἄκουσ’, ἀνέθηκε τῶι θεῶι τὸγ κώθωνα.
A11. Αἰσχίνας ἐγκεκοιµισµένων ἤδη τῶν ἱκετᾶν ἐπὶ δένδρεόν τι ἀµβὰς ὑπερέκυπτε εἰς τὸ ἄβα-
τον. καταπετὼν οὖν ἀπὸ τοῦ δένδρεος περὶ σκόλοπάς τινας τοὺς ὀπτίλλους ἀµφέπαισε· κακῶς
δὲ διακείµενος καὶ τυφλὸς γεγενηµένος καθικετεύσας τὸν θεὸν ἐνεκάθευδε καὶ ὑγιὴς ἐγένετο.
A12. Εὔιππος λόγχαν ἔτη ἐφόρησε ἓξ ἐν τᾶι γνάθωι· ἐγκοιτασθέντος δ’ αὐτοῦ ἐξελὼν τὰν
λόγχαν ὁ θεὸς εἰς τὰς χῆράς οἱ ἔδωκε· ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµένας ὑγιὴς ἐξῆρπε τὰν λόγχαν ἐν ταῖς
χερσὶν ἔχων.
A13. ἀνὴρ Τορωναῖος δεµελέας. οὗτος ἐγκαθεύδων ἐνύπνιον εἶδε· ἔδοξέ οἱ τὸν θεὸν τὰ
στέρνα µαχαίρ̣αι ἀνσχίσσαντα τὰς δεµελέας ἐξελεῖν καὶ δόµεν οἱ ἐς τὰς χεῖρας καὶ συν-
ράψαι τὰ στήθη· ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµένας ἐξῆλθε τὰ θηρία ἐν ταῖς χερσὶν ἔχων καὶ ὑγιὴς
ἐγένετο· κατέπιε δ’ αὐτὰ δολωθεὶς ὑπὸ µατρυιᾶς ἐγ κυκᾶνι ἐµβεβληµένας ἐκπιών.
A14. ἀνὴρ ἐν αἰδοίωι λίθον. οὗτος ἐνύπνιον εἶδε· ἐδόκει παιδὶ καλῶι συγγίνεσθαι, ἐξονει-
ρώσσων δὲ τὸλ λίθον ἐγβάλλει καὶ ἀνελόµενος ἐξῆλθε ἐν ταῖς χερσὶν ἔχων.
A15. Ἑ̣ρµόδικος Λαµψακηνὸς ἀκρατὴς τοῦ σώµατος. τοῦτον ἐγκαθεύδοντα ἰάσατο καὶ ἐκελή-
σατο ἐξελθόντα λίθον ἐνεγκεῖν εἰς τὸ ἱαρὸν ὁπόσσον δύναιτο µέγιστον· ὁ δὲ τὸµ πρὸ τοῦ ἀβά-
του κείµενον ἤνικε.
A16. Νικάνωρ χωλός· τούτου καθηµένου παῖς τ̣ις ὕπαρ τὸν σκίπωνα ἁρπάξας ἔφευγε· ὁ δὲ
ἀστὰς ἐδίωκε καὶ ἐκ τούτου ὑγιὴς ἐγένετο.
A17. ἀνὴρ δάκτυλον ἰάθη ὑπὸ ὄφιος· οὗτος τὸν τοῦ ποδὸς δάκτυλον ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀγρίου ἕλκεος
δεινῶς διακείµενος µεθάµερα ὑπὸ τῶν θεραπόντων ἐξενειχθεὶς ἐπὶ ἑδράµατός τινος καθῖζ̣ε ·
ὕπνου δέ νιν λαβόντος ἐν τούτωι δράκων ἐκ τοῦ ἀβάτου ἐξελθὼν τὸν δάκτυλον ἰάσατο τᾶι
γλώσσαι καὶ τοῦτο ποιήσας εἰς τὸ ἄβατον ἀνεχώρησε πάλιν. ἐξεγερθεὶς δὲ ὡς ἦς ὑγιής, ἔφα
ὄψιν ἰδεῖν, δοκεῖν νεανίσκον εὐπρεπῆ τὰµ µορφὰν ἐπὶ τὸν δάκτυλον ἐπιπῆν φάρµακον.
A18. Ἀλκέτας Ἁλικός· οὗτος τυφλὸς ἐὼν ἐνύπνιον εἶδε· ἐδόκει οἱ ὁ θεὸς ποτελθὼν τοῖς
δακτύλοις διάγειν τὰ ὄµµατα καὶ ἰδεῖν τὰ δένδρ̣η πρᾶτον τὰ ἐν τῶι ἱαρῶι. ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµέ-
νας ὑγιὴς ἐξῆλθε.
A19. Ἡραιεὺς Μυτιληναῖος· οὗτος οὐκ εἶχε ἐν τᾶι κεφαλᾶι τρίχας, ἐν δὲ τῶι γεν̣είωι
παµπόλλας. αἰσχυνόµενος δὲ̣ [ὡς] καταγελάµενος ὑπ[ὸ] τῶν ἄλλων ἐνεκάθευδε. τὸν δὲ ὁ θεὸς
χρίσας φαρµάκωι τὰν κεφαλὰν ἐπόησε τρίχας ἔχειν.
A20. Λύσων Ἑρµιονεὺς παῖς ἀϊδής. οὗ[τος] ὕπαρ ὑπὸ κυνὸς τῶν κατὰ τὸ ἱαρὸν θε[ραπ]ευό-
µενος τοὺς ὀπτίλλους ὑγ̣[ιὴ]ς ἀπῆλθε.
Greek text, stele B (B1–B13)
B1. Ἀ̣ράτα [Λά]καινα ὕδρωπ[α. ὑπ]ὲρ ταύτας ἁ µάτηρ ἐνεκάθευδεν ἐλ Λακεδαίµονι ἔσσα[ς]
καὶ ἐνύπνιον [ὁ]ρῆι· ἐδόκει τᾶς θυγατρός οὑ τὸν θεὸν ἀποταµόντα τὰν κ[ε]φαλὰν τὸ σῶµα
κραµάσαι κάτω τὸν τράχαλον ἔχον· ὡς δ’ ἐξερρύα συχνὸν ὑγρ̣[ό]ν, καταλύσαντα τὸ σῶµα
τὰν κεφαλὰν πάλιν ἐπιθέµεν ἐπὶ τὸν αὐχένα· ἰδο[ῦ]σ̣α δὲ τὸ ἐνύπνιον τοῦτο ἀγχωρήσασα εἰς
Λακεδαίµονα καταλαµβάνε̣[ι τ]ὰν θυγατέρα ὑγιαίνουσαν καὶ τὸ αὐτὸ ἐνύπνιον ὡρακυῖαν.
B2. Ἕρµων Θ[άσιος. τοῦτο]ν τυφλὸν ἐόντα ἰάσατο· µετὰ δὲ τοῦτο τὰ ἴατρα οὐκ ἀπάγοντ̣[ α ὁ
θεός νιν] ἐπόησε τυφλὸν αὖθις· ἀφικόµενον δ’ αὐτὸν καὶ πάλιν ἐγκαθε̣[ύδοντα ὑγι]ῆ κατ-
έστασε.
B3. Ἀριστα̣[γόρα Τροζ]ανία. αὕτα ἕλµιθα ἔχουσα ἐν τᾶι κοιλίαι ἐνεκάθευδε ἐν Τροζ[ᾶνι ἐν
τῶι] τοῦ Ἀσκλαπιοῦ τεµένει καὶ ἐνύπνιον εἶδε· ἐδόκει ⟨οἱ⟩ τοὺς υἱ[οὺς τοῦ θ]εοῦ, οὐκ ἐπιδα-
µοῦντος αὐτοῦ, ἀλλ’ ἐν Ἐπιδαύρωι ἐόντος, τὰγ κεφα[λὰν ἀπο]ταµεῖν, οὐ δυναµένους δ’ ἐπι-
θέµεν πάλιν πέµψαι τινὰ πο[ὶ] τὸν Ἀσκλ[απιόν, ὅ]πως µόληι· µεταξὺ δὲ ἁµέρα ἐπικαταλαµ-
βάνει καὶ ὁ ἱαρρεὺς ὁρῆι [σάφα τ]ὰν κεφαλὰν ἀφαιρηµέναν ἀπὸ τοῦ σώµατος· τᾶς ἐφερποῦ-
σας δὲ νυκτ[ὸς Ἀρ]ισταγόρα ὄψιν εἶδε· ἐδόκει οἱ ὁ θεὸς ἵκων ἐξ Ἐπιδαύρου ἐ̣πιθεὶς τ[ὰν κε]-
φαλὰν ἐπὶ [τὸ]ν τράχαλον, µετὰ ταῦτα ἀνσχίσσας τὰγ κοιλ[ία]ν̣ τὰν αὐτ[ᾶς ἐξ]ελεῖν τὰν
ἕ[λµ]ιθα καὶ συρράψαι πάλιν, καὶ ἐκ τούτου ὑγ[ιὴ]ς ἐγένετ[ο].
B4. ὑ]π[ὸ π]έ̣τραι παῖς Ἀριστόκριτος Ἁλ̣ικός· οὗτος ἀποκολυµ[βάσ]ας εἰς τὰν θά̣[λασ]σ̣αν
ἔπειτα δενδρύων εἰς τόπον ἀφίκετο ξηρόν, κύκ[λωι] πέτραις περ[ιεχό]µενον, καὶ οὐκ ἐδύνατο
ἔξοδον οὐδεµίαν εὑρεῖν. [µε]τὰ δὲ τοῦτο ὁ πατ[ὴρ α]ὐτοῦ, ὡς οὐθαµεὶ περιετύγχανε µαστεύ-
ων, παρ’ [Ἀ]σκλαπιῶι ἐν τῶι ἀ[βάτ]ωι ἐνεκάθευδε περὶ τοῦ παιδὸς καὶ ἐνύπνιον ε̣[ἶ]δε· ἐδόκει
αὐτὸν ὁ θ[εὸς] ἄγειν εἴς τινα χώραν καὶ δεῖξαί οἱ, δ̣[ι]ότι τουτ[ε]ῖ ἐστι ὁ ὑὸς αὐτοῦ. ἐξε̣[λθὼ]ν
δ’ ἐκ τοῦ ἀβάτου καὶ λ̣ατοµήσας τὰ[ν] πέτραν ἀ[ν]ηῦρε τὸµ παῖ̣δα ἑβδεµα̣[ῖο]ν.
B5. Σωστράτα Φεραί[α παρ]εκύησε. α[ὕ]τα ἐµ παντὶ ἐοῦσα φοράδα̣ν εἰς τὸ ἱαρὸν ἀφικοµένα
ἐνε[κά]θευδε. ὡς δὲ οὐθὲν ἐνύπνιον ἐναργ[ὲ]ς ἑώρη, πάλιν οἴκαδε ἀπεκοµίζ̣[ε]το. µετὰ δὲ
τοῦτο συµβολῆσαί τις περὶ Κόρνους αὐτᾶι καὶ τοῖς ἑ[ποµέ]νοις ἔδοξε τὰν ὄψιν εὐπρεπὴς
ἀνήρ, ὃς πυθόµενος παρ’ αὐτῶν τ[ὰς δυσπρα]ξίας τὰς αὐτῶν ἐκελήσατο θέµεν τὰν κ̣λίναν,
ἐφ’ ἇς τὰν Σωστρ[άταν ἔφε]ρον. ἔπειτα τὰγ κοιλίαν αὐτᾶς ἀνσχίσας ἐξαιρεῖ πλῆθος ζ[ωϋφίων
πάµ]πολυ, [δύ]ε ποδανιπτῆρας· συνράψας δὲ τὰ[ν γ]αστέρα καὶ ποήσας ὑ[γιῆ] τὰν γυ̣ναῖκα
τάν τε παρουσίαν τὰν αὐτο[ῦ π]αρενεφάνιξε ὁ Ἀσκλαπιὸς καὶ ἴατρα ἐκέλε̣το ἀπ[ο]πέµπειν εἰς
Ἐπί[δα]υρ[ον.]
B6. κύων ἰάσατο παῖδα Αἰ[γιν]άταν. οὗτος φῦµα ἐν τῶ[ι τρα]χ̣άλωι εἶχε· ἀφικόµενο[ν] δ’
αὐτὸν ποὶ τ[ὸν] θε[ὸ]ν κύων τῶν ἱαρῶν ὕ[παρ τ]ᾶ̣ι γλώσσαι ἐθεράπευσε καὶ ὑγιῆ ἐπόη[σ]ε.
B7. ἀνὴρ ἐ[ντὸ]ς τᾶς κοιλίας ἕλκος ἔχων. οὗτος ἐγκαθεύδων ἐν[ύπνιο]ν εἶδε· ἐδ̣όκ[ε]ι αὐτῶι ὁ
θεὸς ποιτάξαι τοῖς ἑποµένοις ὑπηρέτα[ις συλ]λαβόντας αὐτὸν ἴσχειν, ὅπως τάµηι οὑ τὰν
κοιλίαν· αὐτὸς δὲ φεύ[γει]ν, τοὺς δὲ συλλαβόντας νιν ποιδῆσαι ποὶ ῥόπτον· µετὰ δὲ τοῦτο τὸν
[Ἀσ]κλαπιὸν ἀνσχίσσαντα τὰγ κοιλίαν ἐκταµεῖν τὸ ἕλκος καὶ συρρά[ψαι] πάλιν, καὶ λυθῆµεν
ἐκ τῶν δεσµῶν· καὶ ἐκ τούτου ὑγιὴς ἐξῆ[λθ]ε, τὸ δὲ δάπεδον ἐν τῶι ἀβάτωι αἵµατος κατά-
πλεον ἦς.
B8. Κλεινάτας Θηβα̣ῖ ος ὁ τοὺς φθεῖρας· οὗτος π̣[λῆ]θός τι πάµπολυ φθε[ιρ]ῶν ἐν τῶι σώµατι
[ἔ]χων ἀφικόµενος ἐνεκά[θευ]δε καὶ ὁρῆι ὄψιν. ἐδόκει αὐτόν νιν ὁ θεὸς ἐγδύσας καὶ γυµνὸν
καταστάσας ὀρθὸν σάρ̣[ ω]ι τινὶ τοὺς φθεῖρας ἀπὸ τοῦ σώµατος ἀποκαθαίρειν· ἁµέρας δὲ
γ[ε]νοµένας ἐκ τοῦ ἀβάτου ὑγιὴς ἐξῆλθε.
B9. Ἀγέστρατος κεφαλᾶς [ἄ]λγος· οὗτος ἀγρυπνίαις συνεχόµενος διὰ τὸµ πόνον τᾶς κεφα-
λᾶ[ς], ὡς ἐν τῶι ἀβάτωι ἐγένετο, καθύπνωσε καὶ ἐν[ύ]πνιον εἶδε· ἐδόκει αὐτὸν ὁ θεὸς ἰασά-
µε̣νος τὸ τᾶς κεφαλᾶς ἄλγος ὀρθὸν ἀστάσας γυµνὸν παγκρατίου προβολὰν διδάξαι· ἁµέρας
δὲ γενηθείσας ὑγιὴς ἐξῆλθε καὶ οὐ µετὰ πολὺγ χρόνον τὰ Νέµεα ἐνίκασε παγκράτιον.
B10. Γοργίας Ἡρακλειώτας πύος. οὗτος ἐµ µάχαι τινὶ τρωθεὶς εἰς τὸµ πλεύµονα τοξε[ύ]µ[α]τι
ἐνιαυτὸγ καὶ ἑξάµηνον ἔµπυος ἦς οὕτω σφοδρῶς, ὥστε ἑπτὰ καὶ ἑξήκοντα λεκάνας ἐνέπλησε
πύους· ὡς δ’ ἐνεκάθευδε, ὄψιν εἶδε· ἐδόκει οἱ ὁ θεὸς τὰν ἀκίδα ἐξελεῖν ἐκ τοῦ πλεύµονος·
ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµένας ὑγιὴς ἐξῆλθε τὰν ἀκίδα ἐν ταῖς χερσὶ φέρων.
B11. Ἀνδροµάχα ἐξ Ἀπείρο[υ] περὶ παίδων. αὕτα ἐγκαθεύδουσα ἐνύπνιον εἶδε· ἐδόκει αὐτᾶι
π[α]ῖς τις ὡραῖος ἀγκαλύψαι, µετὰ δὲ το̣ῦτο τὸν θεὸν ἅψασθαί οὑ τᾶι [χη]ρί· ἐκ δὲ τούτου τᾶι
Ἀνδροµάχαι υ[ἱ]ὸς ἐξ Ἀρύββα ἐγένετο.
B12. Ἀ[κ]ράτης Κνίδιος ὀφθαλµούς. οὗτος ἔν τινι µάχαι ὑπὸ δό[ρα]τος πλα[γεὶ]ς δι’
ἀµφοτέρων τῶν ὀφθαλµῶν τυφλὸς ἐγένετο καὶ τὰν λόγχαν [παρ]οῦσαν ἐν τῶι προσώπωι περιέ-
φερε· ἐγκαθεύδων [δ]ὲ ὄψιν εἶδε· ἐδ[όκε]ι ⟨οἱ⟩ τὸν θεὸν ἐξελκύσαντα τὸ βέλος εἰς τὰ β[λέ]-
φαρα τὰς καλουµ[έν]ας κόρας πάλιν ἐναρµόξαι. ἁµέρας δὲ γενοµένας ὑγιὴς ἐξῆλθ[ε].
B13. [Θ]έ̣ρσανδρος Ἁλικὸς φθίσιν. οὗτος, ὡς ἐγκαθεύδων [οὐ]δεµίαν ὄψιν [ἑ]ώρη, ἐφ’ ἁµάξας
[ἄµπαλ]ιν ἀπεκοµίζετο εἰς Ἁλιεῖς, δράκων δέ τις [τ]ῶν ἱαρῶν ἐπὶ τ[ᾶς ἁµ]άξας καθιδρυµένος
ἦς, τὸ πο[λ]ὺ τᾶς ὁδοῦ περιη[λι]γµένος περ[ὶ τ]ὸν ἄξονα διετέλεσε. µολόντων δ’ [α]ὐ[τ]ῶν εἰς
Ἁλιεῖς [κα]ὶ τοῦ Θερσ[ά]νδρου κατακλιθέντος οἴ[κο]ι, ὁ δράκων ἀπὸ τᾶς ἁµά[ξα]ς καταβὰ[ς
τ]ὸν Θέρσανδρον ἰάσατο. [τᾶς δ]ὲ πόλιος τῶν Ἁλικῶν [ἀγγε]λ[λ]ούσας τὸ γεγενηµένον καὶ
διαπορ[ουµένας] περὶ τοῦ ὄφι[ος, πό]τερον εἰς Ἐπίδαυρον ἀποκοµίζωντι [ἢ αὐτὸν κα]τὰ
χώραν ἐῶν[τι, ἔ]δοξε τᾶι πόλι εἰς ∆ελφοὺς ἀποστεῖλα[ι χρησοµέ]νους, πότερα [π]οιῶντι· ὁ δὲ
θεὸς ἔχρησε τὸν ὄφιν ἐῆν αὐ[τεῖ καὶ ἱ]δρυσαµένου[ς Ἀ]σκλαπιοῦ τέµενος καὶ εἰκόνα αὐτοῦ
πο[ιησαµέ]νους ἀνθέµεν [εἰς] τὸ ἱαρόν. ἀγγελθέντος δὲ τοῦ χρησ[µοῦ, ἁ πόλι]ς ἁ τῶν Ἁλικῶν
ἱδρύσατο τέµενος Ἀσκλαπιοῦ [αὐτεῖ καὶ τὰ ὑπὸ το]ῦ θεοῦ µαντ[ευ]σθέντα ἐπετέλεσε.
54
Translation
54 The English translation is that of LiDonicci 1995 (slightly modified).

God. Good Luck. Healings of Apollo and Asklepios

A1. Kleo was pregnant for five years. After the fifth year of pregnancy, she came as a suppliant to
the god and slept in the abaton. As soon as she had left it and was outside the shrine, she gave
birth to a son who, as soon as he was born, washed himself at the fountain and walked about with
his mother. After this success, she inscribed upon her offering: ‘The wonder is not the size of the
plaque, but the divine: Kleo was pregnant with a burden in her stomach for five years, until she
slept here and he made her well‘.
A2. A three-year pregnancy. Ithmonika of Pellene came to the sanctuary to have children. Sleeping
in the shrine, she saw a vision. It seemed that she asked the god if she could conceive a daughter,
and Asklepios answered that she would and that if she asked anything else that he would do that as
well, but she answered that she didn’t need anything more. She became pregnant and bore the
child in her stomach for three years, until she came again to the god as suppliant, concerning the
birth. Sleeping in the shrine, she saw a vision. The god appeared asking whether everything she
had asked had not happened and she was pregnant. She had not asked anything about the birth, and
he had asked her to say whether there was anything more she needed and he would do it. But since
she had come to him as a suppliant for this, he said he would do it for her. Right after this, she
rushed out of the abaton, and as soon as she was outside the shrine, gave birth to a daughter.
A3. A man who was paralyzed in all his fingers except one came as a suppliant to the god. When
he was looking at the plaques in the sanctuary, he didn’t believe in the cures and was somewhat
disparaging of the inscriptions. Sleeping in the shrine, he saw a vision. It seemed he was playing
the knucklebones below the temple, and as he was about to throw them, the god appeared, sprang
on his hand and stretched out this fingers one by one. When he had straightened them all, the god
asked him if he would still not believe the inscriptions on the plaques around the sanctuary and he
answered no. ‘Therefore, since you doubted them before, though they were not unbelievable, from
now on,’ he said, ‘your name shall be “Unbeliever”.’ When day came he left well.
A4. Ambrosia from Athens, blind in one eye. She came as a suppliant to the god. Walking about
the sanctuary, she ridiculed some of the cures as being unlikely and impossible, the lame and the
blind becoming well from only seeing a dream. Sleeping in the shrine, she saw a vision. It seemed
to her the god came to her and said he would make her well, but she would have to pay a fee by
dedicating a silver pig in the sanctuary as a memorial of her ignorance. When day came she left
well.
A5. A mute boy. He came to the sanctuary for a voice. He performed the opening sacrifices and
did the required things; and then the boy who carries fire for the god, looking over at the boy’s
father, bid him to promise to sacrifice within a year, if what he came for occurred. Suddenly the
boy said, ‘I promise’. The father was amazed and told him to repeat it. The boy spoke again and
from this he became well.
A6. Pandaros of Thessaly, with marks on his forehead. Sleeping here, he saw a vision. It seemed
that the god bound a fillet around his marks and told him that when he was outside of the abaton,
to take off the fillet and dedicate it in the temple. When day came he rose and took off the fillet,
and he saw his face clear of the marks. He dedicated the fillet, which had the letters from his
forehead, in the Temple.
A7. Echedoros received the marks of Pandaros along with those he already had. He had taken
money from Pandaros in order to make a dedication to the god at Epidauros for him, but he did not
hand it over. Sleeping in the shrine, he saw a vision. It seemed to him that the god came to him and
asked whether he had any money of Pandaros’ to make a dedication for Athena in the sanctuary.
He answered that he had taken nothing of the kind from him, but that if he would make him well,
he would have an image inscribed and dedicate it to him. At that the god seemed to tie Pandaros’
fillet around his marks and to order him, when he went outside the abaton, to take off the fillet and
wash his face at the fountain and to look at his reflection in the water. When day came, he went
out of the abaton and took off the fillet, which no longer had the letters, but when he looked into
the water, he saw that his own face bore his original marks and had taken on the letters of
Pandaros.
A8. Euphanes, a boy of Epidauros. Suffering from stone, he slept (in the abaton). It seemed to him
the god came to him and said, ‘What will you give me if I should make you well?’ The boy
replied, ‘Ten knucklebones.’ The god laughed and said that he would make it stop. When day
came, he left well.
A9. Once a man came as a suppliant to the god who was so blind in one eye that, while he still had
the eyelids of that eye, there was nothing within them and they were completely empty. Some of
the people in the sanctuary were laughing at this simple-mindedness in thinking that he could be
made to see, having absolutely nothing, not even the beginnings of an eye, but only the socket.
Then in his sleep, a vision appeared to him. It seemed that the god boiled some drug, and then
drew apart his eyelids and poured it in. When day came he departed with both eyes.
A10. The cup. A baggage carrier was walking into the sanctuary, but he fell down near the ten
stadia stone. Getting up, he opened his bag and looked at the shattered things. When he saw that
the cup from which his master was accustomed to drink was broken into pieces, he grieved and
sitting down, tried putting the pieces together. Some passerby saw him. ‘Why fool,’ he said, ‘are
you fruitlessly putting that cup together? For not even Asklepios in Epidauros would be able to
make that cup whole.’ Hearing this the boy, having put the pieces into his bag, walked into the
sanctuary. When he arrived he opened the bag and took out the cup, which had become whole. He
explained to his master what had happened and what had been said. When he heard it, he dedicated
the cup to the god.
A11. Aischines, when the suppliants were already sleeping, went up a tree and peered over into the
abaton. Then he fell out of the tree and impaled his eyes on some fencing. In a dreadful state,
having been blinded, he earnestly prayed to the god, slept (in the abaton), and became well.
A12. Euhippos bore a spear in his jaw for six years. While he was sleeping in the shrine, the god
drew the spearhead from him and gave it to him in his hands. When day came, he walked out well,
having the spearhead in his hands.
A13. A man from Torone, leeches. When he was sleeping, he saw a dream. It seemed to him that
the god ripped open his chest with a knife, took out the leeches and gave them to him in his hands,
and sewed his breast together. When day came he left having the animals in his hands, and had
become well. He had drunk them down, after being tricked by his stepmother who had thrown
them into a potion that he drank.
A14. A man had a stone in his penis. He saw a dream. It seemed that he was having sex with a
beautiful boy and as he had an orgasm in his sleep, he ejected the stone and picking it up he
departed with it in his hands.
A15. Hermodikos of Lampsakos, paralysed of body. When he was sleeping in the shrine, he was
healed and ordered, when he went out, to carry into the sanctuary the biggest stone that he could.
He brought the one which lies in front of the abaton.
A16. Nikanor, lame. When he was sitting down, being awake, some boy grabbed his crutch and
ran away. Getting up he ran after him and from this he became well.
A17. A man’s toe was healed by a snake. He was in a terrible condition from a malignant ulcera-
tion on his toe. During the day he was carried out of the abaton by the servants and was sitting on
a seat. He fell asleep there, and then a snake came out of the abaton and healed the toe with its
tongue; and when it had done this it went back into the abaton again. When the man woke up, he
was well and he said he had seen a vision: it seemed to him that a good-looking young man had
sprinkled a drug over his toe.
A18. Alketas of Halieis. This man being blind, saw a dream. It seemed to him that the god came
towards him and drew open his eyes with his fingers, and he first saw the trees in the sanctuary.
When day came he left well.
A19. Heraios of Mytilene. This man had no hair on his head, but plenty on his chin. Ashamed,
because he was laughed at by the others, he slept (in the abaton). The god anointed his head with a
drug and made it have hair.
Α20. Lyson of Hermione, a blind boy. The boy while awake, had his eyes treated by one of the
dogs about the sanctuary, and went away well.
B1. Arata of Lakedaimon, dropsy. For her sake, her mother slept (in the abaton), while she
remained in Lacedaimon, and she sees a dream. It seemed to her the god cut off the head of her
daughter and hung the body neck downwards. After much fluid had run out, he untied the body
and put the head back on the neck. Having seen this dream she returned to Lakedaimon and found
on her arrival that her daughter was well and that she had seen the same dream.
B2. Hermon of Thasos. He came as a blind man, and he was healed. But afterwards when he didn’t
bring the offering, the god made him blind again. Then he came back and slept (in the abaton), and
he restored him to health.
B3. Aristagora of Troizen. Since she had a worm in her belly, she slept in the temenos of Askle-
pios in Troizen and she saw a dream. It seemed to her that the sons of the god, while he was not
there but was in Epidauros, cut off her head, but they couldn’t put it back again so they sent
someone to the Asklepieion, so that he would return. Meanwhile the day overtakes them and the
priest clearly sees the head removed from the body. When the night finally came again, Aristagora
saw a vision. It seemed to her that the god had returned from Epidauros and put the head on ther
neck, and after that cut open her belly, took out the worm and sewed it together again, and from
this she became well.
B4. Under a rock, a boy Aristokritos of Halieis. He had dived and swum away into the sea and
then remaining under water he came upon a dry place completely surrounded by rocks, and he
couldn’t find any way out. Later his father, after he found nothing by searching, slept in the abaton
before Asklepios concerning his son and saw a dream. It seemed that the god led him to a certain
place and there showed him where his son was. When he left the abaton and cut through the stone
he found his son on the seventh day.
B5. Sostrata of Pherai, false pregnancy. This woman, borne entirely on a litter, arrived at the
sanctuary and slept (in the abaton). But since she saw no clear dream she was carried homeward
again. Later, around Kornoi, she and her attendants met up with someone, in appearance a hand-
some man, who when he heard from them their bad luck, told them to set down the couch on
which Sostrata was borne. Then he cut open the belly and took out lots and lots of creatures – two
footbasins full. When he had sewn up her stomach and made the woman well, Asklepios revealed
his presence to her and ordered her to send offerings to Epidauros.
B6. A dog cured a boy from Aigina. He had a growth on his neck. When he had come to the god, a
dog from the sanctuary took care of him with his tongue while he was awake, and made him well.
B7. A man with a fastering sore inside his belly. Sleeping here, he saw a dream. It seemed to him
that the god ordered the servants who accompanied him to seize and restrain him, so that he could
cut hisbelly. He run away, bu they seized him and bound him to an operating table. After that
Asklepios cut open his belly, cut out the sore, and sewed him up again, and he was released from
his bonds. From this he left well, but the floor of the abaton was covered in blood.
B8. Kleinatas of Thebes, who had lice. This man, having a great multitude of lice on his body,
came and slept (in the abaton), and he sees a vision. It seemed to him the god stripped him and,
standing him up straight, naked, cleared the lice from his body with a broom. When day came he
left the abaton well.
B9. Hagestratos, headache. This man was afflicted with sleeplessness on account of the distress in
his head, but when he came into the abaton, he fell fast asleep and saw a dream. It seemed to him
the god had cured the pain in his head and then stood him up straight, naked, and taught him the
pankration thrust. When day came he left well, and not a long time after won the pankration at
Nemea.
B10. Gorgias of Herakleia, pus. This man was wounded in the lung by an arrow in some battle,
and for a year and six months it was festering so badly that he filled sixty-seven bowls with pus.
When he was sleeping in the shrine, he saw a vision. It seemed to him the god drew out the barb
from his lung. When day came he left well, carrying the barb in his hands.
B11. Andromache from Epirus, concerning children. When she was sleeping in the shrine she saw
a dream. It seemed to her that a handsome young boy uncovered her, and after that the god
touched her with his hand. From this a son was born to Andromache by Arhybbas.
B12. Antikrates of Knidos, eyes. This man had been stuck with a spear through both his eyes in
some battle, and he became blind and carried around the spearhead with him, inside his face.
Sleeping in the shrine, he saw a vision. It seemed to him the god pulled out the dart and fitted the
pupil back into his eyelids. When day came he left well.
B13. Thesandros of Halieis, consumption. This man, since he didn’t see any vision while sleeping
in the shrine, was carried on a wagon back to Halieis. But one of the snakes from the sanctuary had
settled down in the wagon and rode for most of the way twined around the axle. When they arrived
in Halieis and Thersandros was lying in bed in his house, the snake came down from the wagon
and cured Thersandros. The city of Halieis reported what had happened, and the people didn’t
know what to do about the snake, whether they should carry it back to Epidauros or keep it in their
own country. It seemed good to the polis to send to Delphi asking which thing they should do. The
god proclaimed that the serpent should be right there and that they should dedicate a temenos of
Asklepios, and make an image of him and dedicate it in the sanctuary. When the oracle was
announced, the polis of Halieies dedicated a temenos of Asklepios there, and carried out the things
divined by the god.
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PICTURE CREDITS
Figure 1: Marble votive relief stele from the sanctuary of Amphiaraos in Oropos, c. 400–350
BCE. Photo: Petrakos 1997, 263f. no. 344, pl. 39.

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Stuttgart 2012

1 Aristophanes, Ploutos 649–763; see Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, T421.

2 FROM DREAMS TO NARRATIVE AND EMOTIONS

The importance of dreams is a key parameter in the construction of the narrative

The approximately seventy stories of Epidauros, distributed across four stelae,

3 CONTEXTUALISING THE EPIDAURIAN TEXTS

tance: a cult regulation and a song of praise to Asklepios composed by a certain

4 CAUSES OF SUFFERING AND CURES

physical and mental cause of suffering is made.17 The importance of psychologi-

or un-inscribed.19 A number of stories must have been circulating by word of

5 DREAMS, NARRATIVE, AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF ANXIETY AND

19 Petsalis-Diomidis 2007, 214–217.

6 DREAM NARRATIVE AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF HOPE

7 AN APPARENT DISORDER ...

The narrative is constituted by a succession of tales and it is structured with the

8 ALL YOU HAVE TO DO ...

It is noteworthy that, according to the narrative of the miracle inscriptions, dealing

37 See A2, A4–A6, A8, A10, A13–A20, B1–B3, B5, B6.

9 TECHNIQUES FOR THE AROUSAL OF EMOTIONS

39 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 145 and 161f.

narrative, which, especially in the context of a healing sanctuary, was believed to

10 EMOTIONS AND THEIR WORKING IN A HEALING ENVIRONMENT

44 Stewart 1997, 878.

11 THE CONSTRUCTION OF ANXIETY AND HOPE

12 FROM STORIES TO COMMUNITIES

In what precedes, I have tried to demonstrate the importance of these texts in a

construction of the divine itself.51 These two combined phenomena can be

The healing miracles of Epidauros (stelae A and B)53

Greek text, stele A

54 The English translation is that of LiDonicci 1995 (slightly modified).

God. Good Luck. Healings of Apollo and Asklepios

Bakirtzis, C., E. Kourkoutidou-Nikolaidou, and C. Mavropoulou-Tsioumi (2012) Mosaics from

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