WQ101: The Symposiarch

For a couple of weeks, I've meant to figure out what Gary's tag means, and with a couple of free minutes today, found a very nice explanation from A Day in Old Athens by Williams Stearns Davis:

The Symposiarch and his Duties.--"Let's cast for our Symposiarch!" is Prodicus's next order, and each guest in turn rattles the dice box. Tyche (Lady Fortune) gives the presidency of the feast to Eunapius, a bright-eyed, middle-aged man with a keen sense of humor, but a correct sense of good breeding. He assumes command of the symposium; takes the ordering of the servants out of Prodicus's hands, and orders the wine to be mixed in the craters with proper dilution. He then rises and pours out a libation from each bowl "to the Olympian Gods," "to the Heroes," and "to Zeus the Saviour," and casts a little incense upon the altar. The guests all sing a "Pæan," not a warrior's charging song this time, but a short hymn in praise of the Wine-God, some lilting catch like Alcæus's:

In mighty flagons hither bring
The deep red blood of many a vine,
That we may largely quaff and sing
The praises of the God of wine.


Thanks, Gary, a very important role, one I may cast for some day.

Regards, Bob

For a couple of weeks, I've meant to figure out what Gary's tag means, and with a couple of free minutes today, found a very nice explanation from A Day in Old Athens by Williams Stearns Davis:

The Symposiarch and his Duties.--"Let's cast for our Symposiarch!" is Prodicus's next order, and each guest in turn rattles the dice box. Tyche (Lady Fortune) gives the presidency of the feast to Eunapius, a bright-eyed, middle-aged man with a keen sense of humor, but a correct sense of good breeding. He assumes command of the symposium; takes the ordering of the servants out of Prodicus's hands, and orders the wine to be mixed in the craters with proper dilution. He then rises and pours out a libation from each bowl "to the Olympian Gods," "to the Heroes," and "to Zeus the Saviour," and casts a little incense upon the altar. The guests all sing a "Pæan," not a warrior's charging song this time, but a short hymn in praise of the Wine-God, some lilting catch like Alcæus's:

In mighty flagons hither bring
The deep red blood of many a vine,
That we may largely quaff and sing
The praises of the God of wine.


Thanks, Gary, a very important role, one I may cast for some day.

Regards, Bob

Hope you had some fun figuring it out. In fact, I had used that little poem as a tag line for a while.

By the way, if you ever drop by, I promise not to dilute your libations.

Given the amount we probably would imbibe, you might want to!