The Play

Scene and Setting

The stage represents Hector’s bivouac in the temporary camp which the Trojans set up at the end of Iliad 8. The skene is ignored, as part of the realistic setting on the open plain and perhaps a tribute to early-fifth-century dramatic technique (Introduction, 40–1).215 Of the two eisodoi, the one to the audience’s right leads to the main body of Trojans and further to the seashore with the Achaean ships; the one to the left leads to the Thracian camp, Troy and Mt. Ida, from which the Shepherd and Rhesus arrive (L. Battezzato, CQ n.s. 50 [2000], 367–8).

The time is indicated by Rh. 5–6 (n.) οἳ τετράμοιρον νυκτὸς / στρατιᾶς προκάθηνται. This corresponds to the beginning of Iliad 10 in the same way as the choral song 527–64 (n.) adapts Il. 10.251–3 γὰρ ἄνεται, ἐγγύθι δ᾽ ἠώς, / ἄστρα δὲ προβέβηκε, δὲ μοιράων, δ᾽ (on Homer’s three night watches as opposed to the five in Rhesus see 538–45n.). At 985 (983–5n.) the sunrise heralds the end of the nocturnal play.

Hector is first seen lying on his ‘leaf-strewn couch’ (9), surrounded by his attendants (2–3) in a sort of ‘opening tableau’ (cf. Taplin, Stagecraft, 134–6). Other tragedies that began with the parodos also had the main character silent on stage before: A. Niobe, Myrmidons (both mocked by ‘Euripides’ in Ar. Ran. 911–20) and the spurious Prometheus Unbound (O. P. Taplin, HSPh 76 [1972], 58–76). Hector is neither lost in grief (like Niobe and Achilles) nor has he been tormented for endless years, but perhaps our poet wished to show briefly the peace of the victorious night before rapid action initiates the fatal chain of events.

 

1–51. A chorus of Trojan sentries hurries in from the audience’s right in order to wake Hector and tell him important news (1–10). Some agitated dialogue (11–22) is followed by a call to arms (23–33: strophe) and, after further complaints from Hector (34–40), the actual report (41–51: antistrophe).

The anapaestic-lyric composition (below) leads the spectators in medias res. But it soon becomes clear that we have here a dramatisation of Iliad 10, which tells the story from the Trojan perspective. As the convocation of Hector’s assembly at Il. 10.299–302 did not offer much material, our poet modelled his parodos on the ‘Homeric’ opening episode (Il. 10.1–202).216 The watchfires and noise are transferred to the Greek camp (23–51, 41–3a, 41–2, 44–8nn.), the fearful commotion now lies on the Trojan side (15, 17–18, 36–7a nn.). Several echoes in language and content underline the inversion. In particular, the chorus’ initial conversation with Hector matches Agamemnon’s rousing of Nestor in Il. 10.73–101 (7, 11–14, 15nn.). Like the sentries, he had been worried by the activities in the enemy camp and found Nestor, as later Diomedes, sleeping in the open and under arms (20–2n.). Even the structural parallelism of Iliad 10 is to some extent reproduced in the choral song. For while the strophe recalls in greater detail the Greek preparations at the beginning of the book (23–51n.), the rally of their army described in the antistrophe mirrors the Trojan gathering that is shown on stage (R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 [1996], 265). And part of Rh. 44–8 probably depends on Dolon’s assumption of a meeting by Agamemnon’s ship at Il. 10.325–7.

Within this framework the parodos resembles a (Euripidean) messenger scene with many of its typical elements: the question for the addressee (2–6), a general announcement (4), a short counter-question, here multiplied in Hector’s confusion (11–22), and the request for the full account in 38–9 (cf. Strohm 266–9, 273 with n. 1). But as in 728–55 (n.) the scheme is varied to give an effective picture of human fallibility and nocturnal tumult (Strohm 258–66, 272–3, H. Parry, Phoenix 18 [1964], 284–5, Introduction, 4–5). When the sentries finally get a chance to speak, they recommend action instead of telling the ‘news in brief ’ (23–33),²¹⁷ and their message proper (41–51) mainly consists of visual and aural impressions, nothing sure (76–7, 79). This is far from the clear and well-structured report in anapaests that Hecuba receives from the Trojan Women about the imminent sacrifice of Polyxena (Hec. 105–40). Rather we may compare the Phrygian’s aria (Or. 1368–1502), where regular iambic questions from the coryphaeus punctuate ‘a not entirely account’ (Willink on Or. 1366–1502). Similarly, at Hec. 658–725 (which moves from trimeters through mixed speech and lyric back to trimeters) the usual introduction is transferred to a situation that for the moment cannot be clarified. The maidservant does not know how Polydorus died, and thus no messenger speech is to come (Strohm 267–8, 272–3).

Formally our scene is unlike any prologue we know. Of Euripides’ plays only Iphigenia in Aulis (as it stands) and Andromeda begin with anapaests, but the former (IA 1–48 + 115–62) constitute a recitative (and later partly melic) actors’ dialogue,218 the latter (E. frr. 114–16) a monody of the heroine, interspersed with repetitions from the invisible Echo. For genuine opening parodoi we have to go back to Aeschylus: Persians (1–154), Supplices (1–175ef), Myrmidons (fr. 131), Nereids (fr. 150),219 Niobe (cf. Ar. Ran. 911–15) and [A.] Prometheus Unbound (frr. 190–2). In Persians the Old Councillors can hardly supply more preliminary information, and in Myrmidons, Niobe (?) and Prometheus Unbound the chorus address a person already on stage (‘Scene and Setting’, 114). The last example may have been close to Rhesus, if the initial anapaests were followed not by regular song, but by an epirrhematic dialogue with Prometheus as in the parodos of Prometheus Bound (Griffith, Prometheus Bound, 287–8, 290). What remains unique in our case is the form and degree of interaction between chorus and actor, which sets the tone for the rest of the play (cf. Introduction, 39–40).

It is evident that no iambic prologue has been lost. Anything like the two fragments cited in Hyp. (b) 64.29–65.47 = Rh. 430.26–431.44 Diggle would have caused doublets and greatly impaired the effect of the parodos. Our poet aimed at ‘novelty and excitement’ (Taplin, Stagecraft, 63), for which he was willing to forgo absolute coherence of plot.220 His view of men’s incapacity to understand their world is likewise admirably introduced by the opening we have. Hectic movement that bears little fruit recurs in the epiparodos: 675–91 (n.).

1–10. The chorus’ agitation is reflected in their speech. Short asyndetic clauses rarely occupy more than one anapaestic dimeter (note especially the sequence of disyllabic imperatives in 1 and 7–9), Hector is asked first to raise himself and then to open his eyes (7–8), and his name is postponed to an emphatic position at the beginning of the last verse (10). Some scholars thus wished to make the chorus enter σποράδην and/or to attribute different verses to different members or groups. But the marching anapaests, unlike perhaps the lyrics of 675–82 (675–91n.), favour an ordered entrance, and the language displays even fewer signs of possible division than the introduction to the epiparodos. In 23–33 (23–51n.) asyndeton and hysteron proteron also mark the excitement of the chorus as a whole (cf. Hutchinson on Sept. 78–181 [pp. 56–7]).

 

1–6. ‘Come to Hector’s sleeping-place! Which of the king’s squires or soldiers is awake? Let him receive a report of the disturbing news (from those) who are placed before the entire army on the fourth watch of the night.’

This is the transmitted text and punctuation, supported also by the scholia (cf. 1, 5–6nn.), which yield plausible syntax and an individually well-documented sequence of choral self-exhortation (1n.), proxy question for the recipient of the message (2–3, 4nn.) and explicit information on the speaker’s identity (5–6n.). Several modern editors, however, have been worried by the ‘unconnected’ relative οἵ (5) – though their remedies all entail linguistic and interpretative problems of their own. Stiblinus’ popular τις for (2) not only ‘offends by its position in the sentence [and] … at the beginning of an anapaestic dimeter’ (J. Diggle, Eikasmos 9 [1998], 44 n. 22), but also creates a weak alternative between one of Hector’s shield-bearers (ὑπασπιστῶν) and the chorus (τευχοϕόρων in this case) as bringers of the news: 1–6 Βᾶθι πρὸς εὐνὰς / βασιλέως, / δέξαιτο νέων / οἳ … (Wecklein)221 or, with an impossibly harsh parenthesis, Βᾶθι εὐνὰς / / ἢ τευχοϕόρων / – δέξαιτο νέων κληδόνα μύθων – / οἳ … (Zanetto). Others went further still. Paley and Feickert, for example, replace (3) with εἰ from the second ed. Hervagiana (1544) and so must accept a (potential) optative where ordinary usage from Homer on would have a subjunctive after αἴ κε / ἐάν (KG II 534–5 n. 16; cf. SD 631 on the strong hypothetical sense of this εἰ, which may justify the contruction here). No one has endorsed Nauck’s transposition of verse 4 after 9 (Euripideische Studien II, 167) and his δέξαι for δέξαιτο, which brings an unwelcome end to the series of asyndeta (1–10n.). In view of all these objections, and other problematic variations on the paradosis (5–6n.), a slightly ill-prepared relative clause seems to be a tolerable deficiency, especially when it gains support from a doubtful Phoenissae passage (5–6, 12nn.).

1. Βῆθι πρὸς εὐνὰς τὰς Ἑκτορέους: a choral self-exhortation (cf. ΣΣ^V Rh. 1 [II 326.2, 18–19 Schwartz = 77 a¹, a² Merro]) of the type ‘stage-direction embodied in the text’ (Collard on E. Suppl. 271 (–2) βᾶθι, τάλαιν᾽ … / καὶ βαλοῦσα). With verbs of motion also e.g. A. Suppl. 832, HF 119–20, 124–6 (parodos), S. fr. 314.64, 68, 190, 196, 201 (Ichneutae) and Ar. Lys. 302–3, 321 (the parodoi of the male and female semi-choruses respectively). See Schadewaldt, Monolog und Selbstgespräch, 215–16, Kaimio, Chorus, 129–37 and FJW on A. Suppl. 808–10 (III, p. 156). Similar imperatives occur in the ‘comic-satyric’ search-scene 675–91 (675b, 677, 685nn.).

βῆθι: Diggle for (Ω). The intrusion of Doric α in recitative anapaests is not uncommon (Diggle, Textual Tradition, 122). In Rhesus cf. 22, 538, 558, 734, 751, 995.

πρὸς εὐνὰς τὰς Ἑκτορέους: Owing to the central significance of Hector’s bivouac (‘Scene and Setting’, 114), variants of this phrase occur throughout the play: 87–8 … / σὰς πρὸς εὐνάς, 574 εὐνὰς … τάσδε πολεμίων, 575–6 Ἕκτορος / κοίτας, 580–1, 605–6, 631, 660. The ‘proper name’ adjective Ἑκτορέους – with Aeolic -ρε- for *-ρι- (Chantraine, GH I, 170, LfgrE s.v. Νεστόρεος) and here uniquely of two terminations – immediately sets an epic tone (Il. 2.416, 10.46, 24.276, 579, Il. Parv. fr. 29–30.2 GEF). Similarly Rh. 44–5 … σκηνάν, 258–9, 386, 762. For εὐναί of soldiers’ temporary or permanent resting-places in the field cf. e.g. Ag. 559, Thuc. 3.112.3 and Pl. Rep. 415e4 (LSJ s.v. εὐνή I 2 b, S. Perris, G&R 59 [2012], 153–4 with n. 18).

2–3. Hector’s attendants (below) are addressed first, according to protocol: cf. Xen. An. 2.3.2 οἳ δ᾽ (sc. οἱ κήρυκες) ἐπεὶ ἦλθον πρὸς προϕύλακας, ἐπειδὴ δὲ οἱ προϕύλακες, … εἶπε τοῖς προϕύλαξι τοὺς κήρυκας ἄχρι ἂν (Feickert on 2 [pp. 103–4]). Where the skene is involved, a messenger can ask those inside to fetch the desired person: IT 1284–7 (~ 1304–6), Phoen. 1067–9 ὠή, ἐν πύλαισι κυρεῖ; / ἀνοίγετ᾽, ἐκπορεύετ᾽ Ιοκάστην δόμων. / μάλ᾽ αὖθις. The latter is followed by a call to Jocasta herself (Phoen. 1070–1),222 as we have it for Hector in 7–10.

ὑπασπιστῶν … βασιλέως: i.e. ‘squires’ (literally ‘shield-bearers’) or ‘subordinate fighting comrades’ (ΣΣ^VL Rh. 2 [II 326.5–6, 20–1 Schwartz = 77 a¹, a² Merro]), as at Pi. Nem. 9.34 Χρομίῳ … ὑπασπίζων, Hdt. 5.111.1–4, Hcld. 216, Phoen. 1213 παῖς σέθεν (with Mastronarde), Xen. An. 4.2.20, HG 4.5.14, 4.8.39 and, of the whole infantry, A. Suppl. 182 ὄχλον … (with FJW [II, pp. 147–8]). This term from hoplite warfare (Pritchett, GSW I, 49–51, Hanson, Western Way of War, 61–3) is easily transferred to the Homeric world, where anonymous ‘attendants’ are regularly charged with such tasks as carrying arms (Il. 5.48, 6.52–3, 7.121–2, 13.600, 709–11). On the social range of the epic see P. A. L. Greenhalgh, BICS 29 (1982), 81–90, and H. van Wees, in I. Morris – B. Powell (eds.), A New Companion to Homer, Leiden 1997, 670–3.

The juncture … βασιλέως, reminiscent as it is of the later technical term for the personal guards of the Macedonian kings οἱ βασιλικοί), may or may not have a northern Greek connection (Introduction, 19, 20).

For Hector as (‘monarch’) see 388–9n.

ἄγρυπνος: Cf. Rh. 824 ἄγρυπνον and PV 358 ἦλθεν αὐτῷ (on which see further 8, 824–6nn.). Like ἀγρυπνέω (‘Thgn.’ 471) and (Ar. Lys. 27), the adjective does not recur in poetry before the Hellenistic age.

τευχοϕόρων: here ‘ordinary soldiers’ (ΣΣ^VL Rh. 2 [II 326.6, 21 Schwartz = 77 a¹, a² Merro]) and so probably referring to the more distant members of Hector’s λόχος (26n.). is a metrical variant form of (Cho. 627, E. Suppl. 654, Rh. 267), with o- instead of s-stem composition (Schwyzer 440; cf. KB II 331–2), as in (Ar. Ran. 441/2, later) as against (Ba. 703, IA 1544) and (Hsch. σ 80 Hansen) as against σακεσϕόρος (Bacch. 13.104, Ai. 19, Phoen. 139).

4. δέξαιτο: The subject is Hector (from 1 Ἑκτορέους and 2 βασιλέως). The third (as well as second) person optative expressing a polite command is mainly epic (KG I 229–30, SD 322) and so may add the appropriate tone here. Attic examples of the idiom are few: Xen. An. 3.2.37 εἰ μὲν οὖν τις ὁρᾷ, δὲ μή, Χειρίσοϕος … δὲ ἑκατέρων ἐπιμελοίσθην, 6.6.18 (v.l. σῴζεσθέ τε) ἀσϕαλῶς, θέλει and, with a proverbial force, Ar. Vesp. 1431 ἔρδοι τις Pl. Rep. 362d6 οὐκοῦν … ἀδελϕὸς ἀνδρὶ παρείη. Ritchie (181) wrongly adds PV 1047, 1048 and 1050 (concessive).

νέων κληδόνα μύθων: Cf. Hel. 1250 ξένε, λόγων μὲν ἤνεγκας (LSJ s.v. II 1), Med. 173–5 πῶς ἂν … / … / δέξαιτ᾽ ὀμϕάν and Tro. 230–1 καὶ μὴν … ὅδ᾽ … / ²²³ μύθων ταμίας, where (like here) has the familiar sense of ‘unexpected, strange, disagreeable’ (cf. 589–90n.).the

5–6. The (natural) position of the sentries mirrors that of the Greeks 5-6. The (natural) position of the sentries mirrors that of the Greeks at Il. 10.126–7 ἴομεν· κείνους δὲ / ἐν ϕυλάκεσσ᾽, ἵνα γάρ (~ 10.180–93).

οἳ … προκάθηνται: The lack of an antecedent, such as παρ᾽ (ΣΣ^V Rh. 4, 5 [II 326.19, 327.17 Schwartz = 77, 79 Merro]) or τούτων (cf. KG I 357–8, 394–5, SD 94–5), is much harsher than with other ‘substantival’ relative clauses (KG II 352, 401, 440, SD 640), but mitigated somewhat by our expectation of hearing the source of the news. A telltale parallel exists in the possibly interpolated Phoen. 1602–4 πέμπει δέ με / μαστὸν / οὗ ²²⁴where ‘the antecedent … has to be inferred from πέμπει … (Pearson on 1604).

Klyve’s supplement <παρὰ τῶν ϕυλακῶν> before οἵ is weak and not borne out by the variants (Δ et Σ^V) and (Λ) at the end of 5. Although the words could indeed annotate each other (cf. Hsch. 918, 972 Hansen–Cunningham), is more likely to be right. Unlike (LSJ s.v. I 2), it is well-attested in the sense ‘watch of the night’ (LSJ s.v. I 4) and recurs thus at 527, 538 and 543 = 562. Λ also copied πόλεως Τροίας into the middle of 6.

τετράμοιρον … ϕυλακήν: ‘the fourth watch’ out of five (538–45, 540–2nn.), as if it was … (Σ^V Rh. 5 [II 326.10–13, 327.3–4, 13–19 Schwartz = 78–9.4–7, 14–15, 25–31 Merro]). Properly, τετράμοιρος, a classical hapax, ought to mean ‘fourfold’ (i.e. ‘having four parts’: cf. Ag. 872 χθονὸς τρίμοιρον and Xen. An. 7.2.36, 7.6.1, HG 6.1.6 τετραμοιρία = ‘fourfold pay’) or ‘a quarter’ (i.e. ‘the fourth part of four’: cf. Nic. Th. 106, 712 (τὸ) τετράμορον, with ΣΣ 106a, 710–13 τετράμοιρον). But the required sense comes close to (τὸ) δίμοιρον = ‘two thirds’ (i.e. ‘two parts out of three’), first found in A. Suppl. 1069–70 τὸ κακοῦ / καὶ τὸ δίμοιρον (LSJ s.v. δίμοιρος I 1). Presumably our poet also wished to refer to the allotment of shifts to the different contingents: 538–45 and especially 545 = 564 (543–5n.) κατὰ μοῖραν.

προκάθηνται: a military verb particularly (LSJ s.v. I 2), and not attested anywhere else in poetry.

7–8. For the hysteron proteron see 1–10, 23–51 and 25–5a nn.

7. ὄρθου κεϕαλὴν πῆχυν ἐρείσας: an adaptation of Il. 10.80 δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἀγκῶνος, ἐπαείρας, as was already noted by Σ^V Rh. 7 (II 327.25–6 Schwartz = 79 Merro). In tragedy cf. Ag. 2–4 … ) κοιμώμενος ἄγκαθεν κυνὸς δίκην / κάτοιδα νυκτέρων (with Fraenkel on 3) and, for the language, Alc. 388 ὄρθου …, Hcld. 635 ἔπαιρέ νυν σεαυτόν, κάρα, Hipp. 198 … κάρα, Ba. 933 (Ritchie 205). Also 789 (n.) κρᾶτα.

8. λῦσον βλεϕάρων γοργωπὸν ἕδραν: literally ‘Open the grim-eyed seat of your lids’. Unlike in this application (LSJ s.v. I 1 b), the periphrasis for ‘eyes’ has no parallel except 554–6 (n.) θέλγει δ᾽ ὄμματος ἕδραν / ὕπνος· ἅδιστος γὰρ ἀῶ. It can hardly be compared to Tro. 556–7 Περ- / ἕδρας (Ritchie 213) or E. El. 458 … ἴτυος (with Denniston), nor do we get help from e.g. Pl. Tim. 67b5 and 72c 1–2 δ᾽ … (LSJ s.v. I 3). Hermann (Opuscula III, 292) suggested lexical conflation of Hipp. 290 στυγνὴν ὀϕρῦν and E. El. 739–41 …) / ἕδραν ἀλλάξαν- Hsch. γ 850 Latte γοργωπὸν ἕδραν· [καὶ] καθέδραν. ἢ shows an early need of elucidation.

Hector’s ‘Gorgon’s eyes’ go back to Il. 8.348–9 … / Γοργοῦς ἔχων, which also inspired Parthenopaeus at Sept. 537 γοργὸν δ᾽ (~ Phoen. 146–7). γοργωπός perhaps comes from PV 356 ἐξ δ᾽ where ἄγρυπνος follows in 358 (cf. 2–3n.). But Euripides was also fond of this and related adjectives: Suppl. 322 γοργὸν ὄμμ᾽ (Wecklein for γοργὸν ὣς L; cf. Diggle, Studies, 12–13, where add West, Studies, 311–12 on the text of PV 901–3), HF 131–2 αἵδε … / ὀμμάτων αὐγαί, 868, 990, 1266, Ion 210, Or. 260–1, Hyps. fr. 18.3 Bond = E. fr. 754a.3. In general see Leumann, Homerische Wörter, 154–5.

9. χαμεύνας ϕυλλοστρώτους: Despite the very different context, one is reminded of the bed of leaves Odysseus assembled for himself in Od. 5.482–91.

(for the accentuation see Fraenkel on Ag. 1540, Radt on S. fr. 175) is a mainly poetic noun, which denotes a humble couch (Ag. 1540, E. fr. 676.1 [Sciron], Ar. Av. 816) or, as here, an open bivouac (cf. 852–3 χαμεύνας … Ῥήσου, Theoc. 13.33–5, A. R. 3.1193, 4.883).

The previously unattested may have been coined after Cyc. 386–7 / ἔστρωσεν Pierson: ἔστησεν L). A third-declension form occurs in Theoc. Ep. 3.1 Gow πέδῳ.

10. Ἕκτορ: 1–10n.

καιρὸς γὰρ ἀκοῦσαι: Cf. E. fr. 727a.66 .]μω[.] καιρὸς [… For the semantic range of see Barrett on Hipp. 386–7, J. R. Wilson, Glotta 58 (1980), 177–204, CQ n.s. 31 (1981), 418–20, W. H. Race, TAPA 111 (1981), 197–213 and M. Trédé, Kairos. L’à-propos et l’occasion …, Paris 1992, especially 25–73.

11–14. Hector wakes. His first reply mirrors, and adapts to his excitable character, Nestor’s confident questions at Il. 10.82–5 τίς δ᾽ οὗτος κατὰ ἀνὰ / δι᾽ ὀρϕναίην, ὅτε θ᾽ / τιν᾽ διζήμενος, τιν᾽ ἑταίρων; / ϕθέγγεο, μηδ᾽ ἀκέων ἐπ᾽ ἔμ᾽ ἔρχεο. τίπτε δέ σε χρεώ; Thoas displays similar irritation at the messenger’s repeated attempts to call him out of the temple: IT 1307–8 θεᾶς τόδ᾽ βοήν, / πύλας ἀράξας καὶ πέμψας (cf. 2–3n.).

11. τίς ϕθόγγος; – τίς ἀνήρ; This is the text of Δ, with Barnes’ ἦ for (V: O) and Diggle’s parenthesis (Euripidea, 429 n. 40), which fits Hector’s confusion even better than the traditional punctuations ὅδ᾽; ἦ (e.g. Paley, Jouan) or τίς ὅδ᾽; (Wecklein, Murray, Porter). For the framing question Diggle compares Or. 1269–70 ὅδ᾽ … πολεῖ … and Ba. 578–9 τίς ὅδε, πόθεν ὁ κέλαδος / ἀνά μ᾽ Εὐίου;

Zanetto and Feickert read τίς ὅδ᾽; ἦ ϕίλος εἶ; ϕθέγγου, τίς ἀνήρ with Barnes (II [1694], 109), and after the Aldine (τίς ὅδ᾽ and Tr³ ὅστις ἀνήρ;). But the errors in Λ rather point to Δ as the original than vice versa (Paley on 11), and Il. 10.85 (taken up in 12 θρόει and 14 ἐνέπειν χρή) is not sufficient an argument for preferring to ϕθόγγος.

ϕθόγγος: ‘a friendly voice’ as against an enemy’s: Rh. 687 ἆ· ἄνδρα μὴ θένῃς, PV 128–30 γὰρ ἅδε τάξις / … / τόνδε πάγον, Hec. 858–9, E. Suppl. 372–3, Lyc. 1242. This usage of is common in the historians (LSJ s.v. I 1), but does not seem to occur anywhere else in poetry.

12. τί τὸ σῆμα; similarly Hyps. fr. 57.10 Bond = E. fr. 758a.10 τὸ [, where, however, σῆμα would mean an ordinary ‘sign’ (Bond). In the sense ‘watchword’ it appears only here and in 688.

θρόει: In anapaests also IA 143 θρόει (cf. Stockert, IA I, 79 n. 376, Introduction, 34), although it may be coincidence that this imperative is otherwise confined to lyrics (PV 608, Or. 187).

Ritchie (290–1) wishes to add <(Xo.) θάρσει>, which from a subsequent note in the margin would have produced 16 (16–19n.), since no reply is given and the dramatically relevant watchword revealed only at 521. But nothing must interrupt Hector’s breathless speech, and θάρσει would seem just as ‘pointless’ here as allegedly after 15. For unanswered questions in tragedy Fraenkel (Rev. 235) quotes Phoen. 376–8, which for precisely this reason were deleted by Usener (RhM N.F. 23 [1868], 155–6 = KS I, 141).²²⁵ It may have been ordinary fourth-century technique.

13–14. ἐκ νυκτῶν: ‘at night’. Cf. Rh. 17, 691 (n.), Thgn. 460, Cho. 288, Hp. Morb. Sacr. 15.4 and Xen. Cyr. 8.5.12. The idiom goes back to Od. 12.286–7 ἐκ νυκτῶν δ᾽ ἄνεμοι χαλεποί, δηλήματα νηῶν, / γίνονται, where both the plural and the preposition retain part of their original force (Heubeck on Od. 12.286, Garvie on Cho. 288; ‘out of the night’, with verbs of motion, is still possible in modern English). Analogous formations are Archil. fr. 122.3 IEG ἐκ μεσαμβρίης, S. El. 780 ἡμέρας (with Finglass) and e.g. fr. tr. adesp. 7.3, Xen. Cyr. 1.4.2 ἐκ νυκτός.

/ κοίτας πλάθουσ᾽: Our poet has a penchant for πελάζω and its cognates: 213 καὶνεῶν προβλήμασιν, 347, 526, 557–8 (n.) τί ποτ᾽ οὐ σκοπός …; 776, 777, 910–11 (n.), 920. / (II [1826], 84) need not be adopted in view of Andr. 1166–7 ἄναξ / … πελάζει and maybe OC 1059–61 ἐϕέσπερον / νιϕάδος πελῶσ᾽ / ἐκ (codd.: εἰς νομόν Hartung).²²⁶

15. ‘Cho. The army’s guards. Hect. Why are you carried away by alarm?’

The earliest extant cases of speaker change between two anapaestic metra are Med. 1397, 1398 and 1402; then Ba. 1372, 1379 (with Dodds on 1372–92), OC 173 and IA 3, 16, 140 – all, as here, in passages of high suspense. Rhesus allows the same in 540 and even divided metra (and feet?) in 16, 17–18 and 560–1 (nn.).

τί θορύβῳ; In addition to noise, which could wake up others, here implies a degree of panic, as Hector suspects in 36–7 (Fantuzzi, in Ancient Scholarship, 42–6). Similarly Aeneas in 87–9 and, for the Greeks, 44–5 πᾶς δ᾽ προσέβα στρατὸς /… σκηνάν (cf. 44–8n.).

The meaning of wavers between ‘being carried along’ and ‘being carried away’, but with 16–18 left standing (16–19n.) the latter has more force. Of various mental states cf. Hipp. 197 μύθοις δ᾽ ϕερόμεσθα, Andr. 729 ἄγαν ἐς τὸ ϕέρῃ, HF 1246 ποῖ θυμούμενος; and Hel. 1642 ἐπίσχες ὀργὰς αἷσιν οὐκ ϕέρῃ. The metaphor lies in ‘motion over which one has no control’ (Barrett on Hipp. 191–7 [p. 198]), either by waves, winds or bolting horses (LSJ s.v. B I 1; Cho. 1023–4 [with Garvie], PV 883–4).

16–19. ‘Cho. Have no fear! Hect. I have no fear. There is no ambush by night, is there? [Cho. No. Hect.] I mean, why have you left your posts and disturb the army if you do not have some message at night?’

Lines 16–18 have long aroused suspicion, not least because 17 is clearly corrupt. Diggle deletes the whole passage, at the possible price of a lacuna after 15 to prevent a hiatus that would mark period-end without catalexis and sense-pause (West, GM 95). Yet apart from 18 ~ 37b–8a (n.), it is hard to explain the intrusion of the lines, which are consistent with 34–5 and Aeneas’ opening questions at 87–9 and 91–2. Thus, far from being a scribal reconstruction (Ritchie 290–1), 16 (Χο.) θάρσει. (Εκ.) θαρσῶ should be retained as one of several echoes of the dubious anapaestic prologue of Iphigenia in Aulis (Introduction, 34) and 17–18 emended to restore the metre. The easiest, and generally accepted, solution is Dindorf’s excision of 17 … (Χο.) οὐκ ἔστι (Λ: οὐκέτι Δ) (Εκ.) … (III.2 [1840], 589), which anyone who missed an answer could have added. ²²⁷ Jackson (CQ 35 [1941], 45 n. 1 ~ Marginalia Scaenica, 12–13), less plausibly perhaps in this hectic dialogue, expands to … (Χο.) οὐκ ἔσθ᾽ <Ἕκτορ>. (Εκ.) τί σὺ γάρ … It is no objection that in either case there remains but a faint metron-diaeresis between ἐκ and νυκτῶν. The phenomenon is paralleled at Phil. 162 δῆλον ἔμοιγ᾽ ὡς | ϕορβῆς χρείᾳ, and even bolder overlaps are found in Pers. 47 δίρρυμά τε καὶ | τρίρρυμα τέλη and HF 449 δακρύων ὡς οὐ | δύναμαι κατέχειν (cf. Griffith, Authenticity of PV, 70–1, L. P. E. Parker, CQ n.s. 8 [1958], 86).²²⁸ Attempts that avoid the licence require more severe changes not warranted by the that avoid the licence require more severe changes not warranted by the surrounding text (see Wecklein, Appendix, 48).

16. (Χο.) θάρσει. (Εκ.) θαρσῶ: Cf. IA 2–3 (Αγ.) στεῖχε. (Πρ.) στείχω … / … (Αγ.) σπεῦδε. (Πρ.) σπεύδω (16–19n.). The inner-metric antilabe (15n.) is paralleled in Tr. 976–7 (Πρ.) … ἀλλ᾽ ἴσχε δακὼν / στόμα σόν. (Yλ.) πῶς ϕῄς, γέρον; ἦ ζῇ; 981–2, 991 and the partly corrupt IA 149 (Πρ.) ἔσται. (Αγ.) κλῄθρων δ᾽ †ἐξόρμα (lyric anapaests).

17–18. μῶν τις λόχος ἐκ νυκτῶν; is resumed in 91–2 μῶν τις πολεμίων ἀγγέλλεται / δόλος κρυϕαῖος ἑστάναι κατ᾽ εὐϕρόνην; and the words of 577 … μῶν λόχος βέβηκέ ποι; For μῶν (i.e. contracted μὴ οὖν) introducing apprehensive and/or surprised questions see Barrett on Hipp. 794, who contests the traditional assertion (e.g. KG II 525) that with this particle the speaker invariably expects a negative answer.

λόχος: ‘ambushing party’, as in 560 and e.g. Il. 8.521–2 ϕυλακὴ δέ τις ἔμπεδος ἔστω, / μὴ λόχος εἰσέλθησι πόλιν λαῶν ἀπεόντων (LSJ s.v. λόχος I 3 a, LfgrE s.v. B 3).

Only V is right here. The other MSS read δόλος (OQ et Tr³P²: δοῦλος <LP>), which may be an uncial misreading or a gloss. Conversely, a variant λόχος is attested at 92 (91–2n.).

ἐκ νυκτῶν: 13–14n.

τί σὺ γὰρ …; For the postponement of γάρ see GP 95–6. Its sense is causal-progressive (GP 81–2, 85): ‘I mean, why …’ or ‘Why else then …’

ϕυλακὰς προλιπὼν κινεῖς στρατιάν: one of our poet’s recurrent formulations: 37b–8a (n.) ϕυλακὰς δὲ λιπὼν / κινεῖς στρατιάν, 89 … καὶ κεκίνηται στρατός, 138–9 τάχ᾽ ἂν στρατός / κινοῖτ᾽, 678–9 κλῶπας οἵτινες … τόνδε κινοῦσι στρατόν. There is a realistic fear of panic – at night and close to the enemy (Thuc. 7.80.3). Cf. 15, 20–2, 36–7a, 691nn.

19. νυκτηγορίαν: This is our earliest attestation of the rare noun (cf. LSJ s.v.), which was probably formed after Sept. 28–9 λέγει μεγίστην προσβολὴν Ἀχαιΐδα / νυκτηγορεῖσθαι κἀπιβούλευσιν πόλῃ (‘to discuss by night’).²²⁹ The link is reinforced by νυκτηγοροῦσι in 89 and a number of other references to the prologue of Seven against Thebes (Introduction, 34).

20–2. ‘Do you not know that we are lying near the Argive host in full armour all night?’

The Trojans sleep ready for battle (cf. 123–4, 740), as do the Greeks in Il. 10.74–9, 150–6, with the enemy camp nearby (Il. 9.232–3, 10.100–1, 160–1, 221–2). The words recall Sept. 59–60 ἐγγὺς γὰρ ἤδη πάνοπλος Ἀργείων στρατός / χωρεῖ and so an essential point of comparison between the two plays: both Troy and Thebes have been under siege for a while, and the commander-in-chief employs a scout.

δορὸς … Ἀργείου: a favourite juncture of Euripides. Frequently, as here, δόρυ stands for the entire host: Hcld. 500 (Ἀργείων Elmsley: -εῖον L), 674, 834, 842, Tro. 8, Phoen. 1080, 1086, 1094 (Diggle, Euripidea, 442 n. 4, Mastronarde on Phoen. 1086).

νυχίαν … / κοίτην … κατέχοντας: Cf. Ag. 1539–40 πρὶν τόνδ᾽ ἐπιδεῖν ἀργυροτοίχου / δροίτης κατέχοντα χάμευναν, of Agamemnon’s bath, called κοίταν … ἀνελεύθερον in Ag. 1518 (Denniston–Page on 1539–40).

For the ‘Doric’ κοίταν (Ω), corrected by Dindorf (III.2 [1840], 589), see 1n.

23–51. Instead of answering Hector’s questions, the chorus call for mobilisation in a strophe that shows no sign of their slowing down. As in 1–10 (n.), few of their highly asyndetic orders exceed one verse,²³⁰ and absolute logic is not always observed (25–5a n.). It takes another indignant cue from Hector (34–40n.) before the tension is relieved. The antistrophe tells in well-ordered form what has excited the sentries so much: watchfires in the Achaean camp and a rally in front of Agamemnon’s hut.

The ode continues to offer detailed reminiscences of ‘Homer’. At a deeper level than the parodos as a whole (1–51n.), most of the chorus’ instructions to Hector mirror the activities of the Greek chiefs in Il. 10.29–179: ‘take up your arms’ (Rh. 23 ~ Il. 10.29–37, 131–5, 148–9, 177–9), ‘rouse your friends and allies’ (Rh. 23–26, 31–3 ~ Il. 10.53–6, 72–3, 108–13, 125, 136–79) and even the respectful addresses in 28–9 (n.). Their observations, moreover, correspond exactly to those of Agamemnon at Il. 10.11–13 ἤτοι ὅτ᾽ ἐς πεδίον τὸ Τρωϊκὸν ἀθρήσειεν, / θαύμαζεν πυρὰ πολλά, τὰ καίετο πρό, / αὐλῶν συρίγγων τ᾽ ἐνοπὴν ὅμαδόν τ᾽ ἀνθρώπων. Only the sounds of joy are replaced with such reactions as would be expected of a defeated host (44–8n.).

Metre

23–33 ~ 41–51. Aeolo-iambic, merging into dactyls and dactylo-epitrite. The last colon is exceptional (33/51n.), an exotic flourish perhaps to crown an unusually vivid scene.

34–40. Recitative anapaests (continued).

Notes

25–25a/43–43a The lines were rightly separated by Wilamowitz (GV 287–8 n. 2), Ritchie (297) and Willink (‘Cantica’, 23–4 = Collected Papers, 562–3). ‘Bacchiacs’ (ia‸) are all but invariably preceded or, as here, followed by word-end, i.e. stand first or last in a ‘minor period’ (L. P. E. Parker, CQ n.s. 26 [1976], 20 with n. 17).231 The syntax of 25–25a ὄτρυνον ἔγχος αἴρειν, ἀϕύπνισον also supports the division.

27/45 An ambiguous colon, effecting the transition from pure dactyls to dactylo-epitrite, and ‘harmonised’ with each by word-break after the third princeps (cf. Parker, Songs, 49–50). The context favours contracted D² or 4da‸ (Dale, LM² 43) over a ‘dragged’ ibycean ( ), such as Euripides liked to combine with ‘enoplians’ (Schroeder² 167, 182; cf. Willink, ‘Cantica’, 24 = Collected Papers, 563). But we have no certain means of deciding between the two, nor whether any difference would have been felt. A rare length in other tragedy (Parker on Alc. 568–605 Metre [p. 171]), the ‘prolonged hemiepes’ (D²) recurs at 244 ~ 255, 899 ~ 910 (contr.) and 902 ~ 913.

33/51 Analysis must start from the strophe, which, unlike the antistrophe, shows no obvious sign of textual corruption (33, 49–51nn.). The pattern of word-ends and the link by synartesis with 32 ~ 50 (ὡς), suggest further dactylo-epitrites, and resolved D (cf. Pi. Isthm. 3/4.63 [proper name]) + ba (527–64 ‘Metre’ 536–7/555–6 n.) seems more likely than Willink’s equally unique - - (‘Cantica’, 25 = Collected Papers, 564).²³² Diggle (Studies, 20), followed by Feickert, envisages syncopated iambics (‸ia ‸ia ia‸) or ‘cr cr ba’, but apart from creating split resolution in 33, this would leave us with the impossible sequence - - (Parker, Songs, 47). Nothing is gained by Zanetto’s admission of Responsionsfreiheit between the paradosis of 33 and 51 (‸ia ‸ia ia‸ ~ ‸ia ia ia‸), a dubious licence anyway among syncopated and full iambo-trochaics in tragedy (Diggle, Euripidea, 314, against West, GM 103–4; cf. West, Studies, 109–10). For a summary of the treatments applied to our lines see G. Pace, QUCC n.s. 60 (1998), 133–5.

 

23–4. ὁπλίζου χέρα: 23–51n. The mainly Euripidean phrase (Alc. 34–5, Phoen. 267, Or. 926, 1222–3) reappears in 84 and 99 (n.).

συμμάχων / … βᾶθι πρὸς εὐνάς: 1, 23–51nn. With συμμάχων for σύμμαχον (Ω) Bothe (5 [1803], 283) and Hermann (Opuscula III, 300) (Ω) Bothe (5 [1803], 283) and Hermann (Opuscula III, 300) restored metre and syntax.

Ἕκτορ: The emphatic vocative (1–10n.) has the same position in the antistrophe (42). On such ‘isometric echoes’ see 131–6 ~ 195–200 ‘Metre’ (p. 167), 454–66 ~ 820–32 ‘Metre’ (p. 293) and 722n.

25–5a. Cf. 23–51 ‘Metre’ 25–25a/43–43a n. In their haste the sentries request arming before the allies are awake (1–10, 23–51nn.).

25. ὄτρυνον ἔγχος αἴρειν: Given the context (23–51n.), as well as the rarity of epic ὀτρύνω in tragedy, this may indeed be an allusion to Il. 10.54–5 ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἐπὶ Νέστορα δῖον / εἶμι καὶ ὀτρυνέω ἀνστήμεναι (Ritchie 65). Cf. 557–8 (n.).

Badham’s αἴρειν (Philologus 10 [1855], 336) should be read here, with Doric ναῶν (VQ et L^1c vel Tr¹: νηῶν L^uv: νεῶν O) in 43. Porter, Ammendola, Schroeder² (166), Zanetto (9, 66) and Pace (Canti, 21–2) retain ἀείρειν (Ω) with synizesis.²³³ But while the form itself is widely attested in tragic lyrics and anapaests (e.g. Pers. 660, Sept. 759, Ag. 1525, Alc. 450, Andr. 848, E. El. 873, Tro. 99, fr. tr. adesp. 482.5; Diggle, Studies, 65), it invites suspicion of ‘scribal epicism’ when not required by metre. Cf. Tr. 216–17 αἴρομαι οὐδ᾽ ἀπώσομαι / τὸν αὐλόν (αἴρομαι οὐδ᾽ Lloyd-Jones: ἀείρομ᾽ οὐδ᾽ codd.), with Ll-J/W, Sophoclea, 157, Second Thoughts, 91.²³⁴

25a. ἀϕύπνισον: a rare verb in classical Greek (cf. Eup. fr. 205.1 PCG ἀϕυπνίζεσθαι < > χρὴ πάντα θεατήν, Pherecr. fr. 204 PCG), but recommended by Atticist lexica (Phryn. Ecl. 195 Fischer, [Hdn.] Philet. recommended by Atticist lexica (Phryn. Ecl. 195 Fischer, [Hdn.] Philet. 53 Dain, Moeris α 124 Hansen).

26. πέμπε ϕίλους ἰέναι ποτὶ σὸν λόχον: ‘Send for your friends to join your company.’ On this rendering, absolute , ‘send word’ (LSJ s.v. I 3), governs an infinitive clause as at Xen. HG 3.1.7 … πέμπουσιν οἱ ἔϕοροι ἀπολιπόντα Λάρισαν στρατεύεσθαι ἐπὶ Καρίαν, IA 360–2 καὶ πέμπεις … / … σῇ δάμαρτι παῖδα σήν / δεῦρ᾽ ἀποστέλλειν (~ IA 98–100, 115–19) or, identifying the messenger, Il. 24.117–19 αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ Πριάμῳ μεγαλήτορι ἐϕήσω, / λύσασθαι ϕίλον υἱὸν ἰόντ᾽ ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν, / δῶρα δ᾽ Ἀχιλλῆϊ ϕερέμεν, τά κε θυμὸν ἰήνῃ (with BK on 118) and Rh. 955–6 (954–6n.) τί μὴν ἔμελλον οὐ πέμψειν ϕίλοις / κήρυκας, ἐλθεῖν κἀπικουρῆσαι χθονί; The alternative (e.g. Kovacs, ; The alternative (e.g. Kovacs, Feickert, Liapis), namely to take ϕίλους as the object of πέμπε and ἰέναι as an infinitive of purpose (cf. Od. 14.396–7 ἕσσας με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα πέμψαι / Δουλίχιόνδ᾽ ἰέναι, Thuc. 4.132.3) is less natural in the context. We expect Hector’s people to be encamped with him (577), and his ‘friends and allies’ (Paley on 26) to require a summons (Il. 10.299–302).

λόχον: ‘armed band’, ‘body of troops’ (LSJ s.v. λόχος I 3 b; cf. 577, 682, 844). The sense is post-Homeric,²³⁵ by extension either of the old ‘ambushing party’ (17–18n.), or by secondary derivation from *λέχω, ‘lay’ (Björck, Alpha Impurum, 292, comparing Swedish lag, ‘company’, and lägga, ‘lay’).

27. ‘Fit the horses with bridles!’

In temporary camps the unyoked horses were tied to their chariots at night, to have them close by in an emergency. Of the Trojans cf. Il. 8.543–4, Rh. 567–8a (n.) and of Rhesus Il. 10.473–5, Rh. 616–17 (n.).

ψαλίοις: a type of noseband, for which the modern technical term is ‘cavesson’, but here pars pro toto for the bridles, as in HF 380–2 τεθρίππων τ᾽ ἐπέβα / καὶ ψαλίοις ἐδάμασσε πώ- / λους Διομήδεος and, metaphorically, Cho. 961–2, PV 54.

The ψάλιον consisted of two U-shaped metal bands, one of which sat on the horse’s nose, the other near the back of its lower jaw. They were connected by vertical bars and provided means to attach the headgear, reins and/or a separate lead rope. Used with or without a bit, the device would increase control over the animal by preventing unwanted movements of the head or mouth (J. K. Anderson, JHS 80 [1960], 3–6, Ancient Greek Horsemanship, 60–1, M. A. Littauer, Antiquity 43 (1969), 291–5 with fig. 3 = M. A. Littauer – J. H. Crouwel, Selected Writings on Chariots, other Early Vehicles, Riding and Harness, Leiden et al. 2002, 491–5 with fig. 3 and plt. 208).

28–9. The polite appellations probably reflect Il. 10.67–9 (Agamemnon to Menelaus) ϕθέγγεο δ᾽, ᾗ κεν ἴῃσθα, καὶ ἐγρήγορθαι ἄνωχθι, / πατρόθεν ἐκ γενεῆς ὀνομάζων ἄνδρα ἕκαστον, / πάντας κυδαίνων … (Ritchie 65, Fantuzzi, in Entretiens Hardt LII, 149–51, I luoghi, 252–3; cf. Il. 10.87, 144, 159). Zeus’ son Sarpedon gets the matronymic, where a god’s name would be out of place.

Πανθοΐδαν: Polydamas or Euphorbus.²³⁶ The former plays a greater part in the Iliad and serves as a model for Aeneas in 105–30 (n.). Here, however, the famous patronym (e.g. Il. 13.756, 14.450, 18.250) is all that matters.

Bothe’s reinterpretation of the MSS’ Πανθοίδαν (5 [1803], 284) leaves an ordinary D-colon in responsion with 46. On the tetrasyllabic form see also West, ed. Iliad I, XXIII–XXIV.

τὸν Εὐρώπας: Sarpedon. Il. 6.198–9 make him a son of Zeus and Laodamia, whereas the common (and perhaps older) tradition gives him to Europa, the mother also of Minos and Rhadamanthys: e.g. ‘Hes.’ fr. 140 M.–W. = Bacch. fr. 10 Sn.–M. (Σ^D Il. 12.397 [p. 392 van Thiel]),²³⁷ ‘Hes.’ fr. 141.11–14 M.–W., Hellanic. FGrHist 4 F 94 (Σ^V Rh. 29 [II 327.22–4 Schwartz = 79 Merro]), A. (?) fr. 99.15–23 (Cares = Europa). The last passage is of particular interest for inviting comparison with the grieving Muse (cf. 882–9, 967–9nn., Introduction, 13–14).

Λυκίων ἀγὸν ἀνδρῶν: taken literally from Il. 7.13 (= 17.140) Γλαῦκος δ᾽ πάϊς, Λυκίων ἀγὸς ἀνδρῶν. For Sarpedon cf. Il. 5.647 Σαρπηδὼν Λυκίων ἀγός and 16.541 (~ 16.490) … Σαρπηδών, Λυκίων ἀγὸς ἀσπιστάων, which comes shortly after a reference to Polydamas Πανθοίδης (Il. 16.535).

Tragic metre rarely accepts Homeric phrases of more than two words: Med. 425 ὤπασε θέσπιν ἀοιδάν (= Od. 8.498), Phaeth. 243 Diggle = E. fr. 781.30 δι᾽ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν (~ e.g. Il. 7.446, Od. 17.418). See M. Parry, HSPh 41 (1930), 97–8 = The Making of Homeric Verse, 285–6, who cites Andromache’s elegy (Andr. 103–16) as the obvious exception.

30. ποῦ σϕαγίων ἔϕοροι; i.e. the μάντεις (66) normally in charge of pre-battle σϕάγια. These were pure blood-sacrifices, performed in the field, for some last-minute divination and appeasement of the gods (Pritchett, GSW I, 109–15, III, 83–90, M. H. Jameson, in V. D. Hanson [ed.], Hoplites: The Classical Greek Battle Experience, London – New York 1991, 197–227, Liapis on 30 [with further literature]). The practice is not in Homer, but freely transferred back to the Heroic Age by tragedy: Sept. 230–1, Hcld. 399–409, 673, 819–22 (all with Wilkins), Phoen. 174 (with Mastronarde), 1109–12 (1104–40 del. Morus), Or. 1603.

ἔϕοροι (‘overseers’) evokes Pers. 25 στρατιᾶς πολλῆς ἔϕοροι rather than A. Suppl. 674–5 ἐϕόρους γᾶς / ἄλλους, OC 145 ὦ τῆσδ᾽ ἔϕοροι χώρας or fr. tr. adesp. 39 ἔϕορος οἰάκων. For other references to Persians, especially its parodos, see Introduction, 34 with n. 50.

31. γυμνήτων μόναρχοι: ‘leaders of the light-armed troops’. Cf. Rh. 312–13 πολὺς δ᾽ ὄχλος / γυμνὴς ἁμαρτῇ (where the more specialised archers are also mentioned separately), Phoen. 1147 γυμνῆτες ἱππῆς ἁρμάτων τ᾽ ἐπιστάται and, for the first time in Greek literature, Tyrt. fr. 11.35–8 IEG ὑμεῖς δ᾽, ὦ γυμνῆτες, ὑπ᾽ ἀσπίδος ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος / πτώσσοντες μεγάλοις βάλλετε χερμαδίοις / δούρασί τε ξεστοῖσιν ἀκοντίζοντες ἐς αὐτούς, / τοῖσι πανόπλοισιν πλησίον ἱστάμενοι (otherwise prose). Tyrtaeus’ description resembles that of the Locrian archers and slingers at Il. 13.712–22 (with Janko on 712–18).

The unique application of μόναρχος here may suggest that every contingent of Trojan allies was led by their respective ‘king’ (Porter, Feickert on 31). But perhaps it is just a lofty alternative to the common military use of ἄναξ: Pers. 383 ναῶν ἄνακτες (with Garvie on 378–9, 382–3), E. Suppl. 680–1 Φόρβας, ὃς μοναμπύκων ἄναξ / ἦν.

32–3. The peoples of the East had a reputation for archery, which already in the Iliad is more closely associated with the Trojans (F. H. Stubbings, in Companion to Homer, 518). Our poet appropriately gives the men ‘Asiatic’ bows (33n.) and, since Trojans are speaking, eschews the typical Greek contempt for their use in war (Il. 11.385–95 [with Hainsworth], Ai. 1120, Bond on HF 161, Garvie on Pers. 26; cf. 312–13, 510–11nn.).

32. τοξοϕόροι: substantival, as in Hdt. 1.103.1 … καὶπρῶτος διέταξε χωρὶς ἑκάστους εἶναι, τούς τε αἰχμοϕόρους καὶ τοὺς τοξοϕόρους καὶ τοὺς ἱππέας (and there only in classical prose). Elsewhere τοξοϕόρος is an epithet of archer gods or nations: e.g. Il. 21.483, Ar. Thesm. 970 (Artemis), h.Ap. 13, 126, Pi. Ol. 6.59 (Apollo), Tro. 804 (Heracles), Pi. Pyth. 5.41, Call. (?) fr. 786 Pf. (Cretans), Hdt. 9.43.2, ‘Sim.’ Ep. 46.2 FGE, Arist. Ep. 1.2 FGE = fr. 674.8 Rose (Persians / Medes), Nonn. D. 20.225 (Arabs).

Φρυγῶν: ‘Trojans’, as mostly in tragedy at least since Aeschylus (fr. 446) and generally in Rhesus. Cf. E. Hall, ZPE 73 (1988), 15–18, Inventing the Barbarian, 38–9. The Homeric Phrygians represent a separate allied force (Il. 2.862–3, 3.184–90, 10.431, 16.718–9; cf. h.Ven. 111–16).

33. ‘Span the horn-bound bows with strings.’

ζεύγνυτε κερόδετα τόξα νευραῖς: The verse does not respond with the paradosis at 51 (49–51n.). Emendation here, as was attempted already by Tr¹ τόξα <γε> (Diggle, Euripidea, 513), could produce regular syncopated iambics (‸ia ia ia‸), but this is probably not what our poet desired (23–51 ‘Metre’ with 33/51 n.), and there are no other reasons to change the text. Dale’s ζεύγνυτ᾽ εὖ (MATC I, 95) and Willink’s ζεύγνυτ᾽ ὦ (‘Cantica’, 25 = Collected Papers, 564) both interrupt the rhythm after 32 ~ 50, while Ritchie’s τὰ (298) looks unduly specific in an ode that employs the article only where necessary (29 τὸν Εὐρώπας, 49 τὸ μέλλον). The state of 51, on the other hand, is easily explained by simplification of word-order and script.

κερόδετα: a hapax formed after χρυσόδετος (382) and the like. The meaning ‘bound with horn’ (cf. Σ^L Rh. 33 [II 328.19–20 Schwartz = 80 Merro] τὰ κερουλκά, τὰ ὑπὸ κεράτων δεδεμένα) refers to the ‘composite’ or ‘Asiatic’ bow, whose stave was fitted with keratin on the inside and sinew on the outside to increase the flexibility, range and penetration of the weapon (Lorimer, Homer and the Monuments, 276–7, 290–2, 298, F. H. Stubbings, in Companion to Homer, 518–20, Snodgrass, Arms and Armour of the Greeks, 39–40). In Homer Pandarus’ bow (Il. 4.105–13) and maybe that of Odysseus (Od. 21.393–5) are meant to be of that type. More clearly Or. 268 δὸς τόξα μοι κερουλκά, δῶρα Λοξίου and, also of the Trojans, S. fr. 859 ϕίλιπποι καὶ κερουλκοί (‘drawing horn-tipped bows’), / σὺν σάκει δὲ κωδωνοκρότῳ παλαισταί (cf. 383–4n.).

34–40. Hector is angry at the lack of solid information. His exclamations and further impatient questions sum up what the audience too will think about the action so far.

34–5. For the antithesis Klyve compares Pers. 215–16 οὔ σε βουλόμεσθα μῆτερ οὔτ᾽ ἄγαν ϕοβεῖν λόγοις / οὔτε θαρσύνειν, which comes immediately after another potential model for our lines (below).

δείματ᾽ ἀκούειν: i.e. the chorus’ frightened call to arms. A final-consecutive infinitive is more frequent with θαῦμα, but note Pers. 210–11 ταῦτ᾽ ἐμοί τε δείματ᾽ ἔστ᾽ ἰδεῖν, / ὑμῖν τ᾽ ἀκούειν and Hdt. 6.112.3 τέως δὲ ἦν τοῖσι Ἕλλησι καὶ τὸ οὔνομα τὸ Μήδων ϕόβος ἀκοῦσαι (KG II 15, SD 364–5).

τὰ δὲ θαρσύνεις: Cf. 16 (Χο.) θάρσει. (Εκ.) θαρσῶ (with 16–19n.).

κοὐδὲν καθαρῶς prefigures 40 οὐδὲν τρανῶς ἀπέδειξας and 77 … οὐκ ἴσμεν τορῶς. Of the three adverbs καθαρῶς comes closest to ordinary Attic speech (LSJ s.v. καθαρός II 4) and in other tragedy occurs only at Hcld. 1055 (with Wilkins on 1053–5, against Barrett’s suspicion of these lines).

36–7a. ‘Why – are you frightened by the scourge of Cronus’ descendant, Pan, which induces trembling fear?’

This is the earliest evidence for Pan being credited with causing ‘panics’ – those sudden, and generally groundless, terrors which could befall an army ‘both at night and in daytime’ (Aen. Tact. 27.1; cf. e.g. Hdt. 4.203.3, Thuc. 4.125.1, Ba. 302–5, Rh. 15, 17–18, 138–9, 691 [nn.], Pritchett, GSW III, 45, 162–3, E. L. Wheeler, GRBS 29 [1988], 153–88, P. Borgeaud, Recherches sur le dieu Pan, Geneva 1979, 137–75 = The Cult of Pan in Ancient Greece, Chicago – London 1988, 88–116, 228–39).²³⁸ Our poet cast the thought into the traditional metaphor of the scourge: Il. 12.37 Ἀργεῖοι δὲ Διὸς μάστιγι δαμέντες (with Hainsworth), 13.812 (with Janko on 312–16). Cf. West, EFH 116, Fantuzzi, in I luoghi, 253–4 and on τρομερᾷ / μάστιγι below.

ἀλλ᾽ ἦ: Heath (Notae sive lectiones, 94) for ἀλλ᾽ ἤ (Ω, ^lΣ^V [corr. Schwartz]), with which it tends to be confused (GP 28; cf. 560–1n.). ἀλλ᾽ ἦ ‘puts an objection in interrogative form, giving lively expression to a feeling of surprise or incredulity’ (GP 27). It normally introduces a reply, but may also come later, as here, when the thought is developed by the speaker himself (Barrett on Hipp. 858–9).

Κρονίου Πανός: Pan did not have a fixed genealogy in myth (cf. Roscher III.1, 1379–80). With Zeus as his father (Epimenid. 3 B 16 DK = Σ^V Rh. 36 [II 329.6–7 Schwartz = 81.6–8 Merro], Σ^vet. Theoc. 1.3/4 c [28.1–3 Wendel]), Κρόνιος could be παππωνυμικόν (Σ^V Rh. 36 [II 329.10 Schwartz = 81.10–11 Merro]), although this is not the ordinary way of referring to gods (unlike e.g. Achilles Αἰακίδης). More probably thus our poet followed a tradition ascribed to Aeschylus that (one of two) Pan(s) was Cronus’ son: Σ^V Rh. 36 (II 329.10–11 Schwartz = 81.11–12 Merro) + Σ^vet. Theoc. 4.62/63 d.e (153.9–12 = 154.4–7 Wendel) = A. fr. 25b (one of the two Glaukoi), S. fr. 136 (Andromeda). In any case the epithet points to the antiquity of the Arcadian god (Σ^V Rh. 36 [II 329.8–10 Schwartz = 81.8–10 Merro]). Cf. Wilamowitz, SPrAW IV (1929), 40 = KS V.2, 164.

τρομερᾷ / μάστιγι: In addition to Il. 12.37–8 and 13.812 (above), note Sept. 608 πληγεὶς θεοῦ μάστιγι παγκοίνῳ ᾽δάμη, Ag. 642 διπλῇ μάστιγι, τὴν Ἄρης ϕιλεῖ, PV 682 μάστιγι θείᾳ … ἐλαύνομαι and later Nonn. D. 10.4 οἰστρηθεὶς … μανιώδεϊ Πανὸς ἱμάσθλῃ, 10.13 Πανιάδος Κρονίης … δοῦπος ἱμασθλῆς. For active τρομερός (‘shiver-inducing’) cf. Ar. Av. 950 κλῇσον … τὰν τρομεράν, κρυεράν (sc. πόλιν) and A. R. 4.53 τρομερῷ δ᾽ ὑπὸ δείματι πάλλετο θυμός.

37b–8a. ϕυλακὰς δὲ λιπὼν / κινεῖς στρατιάν was athetised by Dobree (Adversaria II [1833], 87 = IV [1874], 84) as a doublet of 18, and numerous editors have followed him. Yet ‘the abandonment of their posts by the sentinels is prominent in Hector’s mind’ (Porter on 37; cf. 808–19n.), and so is the fear of nocturnal commotion in the camp (15, 17–18, 138–9nn.). Possibly, therefore, the phrase belongs to our poet (e.g. Ammendola on 36–7, D. Ebener, WZRostock 12 [1963], 205, Jouan 9 n. 12), rather than to someone who inserted a marginal note (Klyve on 16–18). A similar repetition in [652] (n.) ~ 279 looks more firmly like an interpolation, while 150 ~ 155 and 543–5 ~ 562–5 are unexceptionable for their literary and dramatic function in the text (149–50, 154–5, 543–5nn.).

38b–40. The words and sentence structure, if not the tone, recall Tro. 153–5 Ἑκάβη, τί θροεῖς; τί δὲ θωΰσσεις; / ποῖ λόγος ἥκει; διὰ γὰρ μελάθρων / ἄιον οἴκτους οὓς οἰκτίζῃ.

οὐδὲν τρανῶς ἀπέδειξας: 34–5n. Strohm (258 n. 3) here quotes Ai. 23 ἴσμεν γὰρ οὐδὲν τρανές, ἀλλ᾽ ἀλώμεθα, where human knowledge is similarly impaired by night (cf. 595–674, 656–60nn., Introduction, 4–5). Unlike its adjective, τρανῶς (‘clearly’) is attested three more times in classical tragedy (Ag. 1371 Eum. 45, E. El. 758).

41–3a. The tell-tale watchfires (1–51, 23–51nn.) are effectfully contrasted with the darkness of night (Klyve on 42–3). For the colometry at 43 see 23–51 ‘Metre’ 25–25a/43–43a n.

41–2. πύρ᾽᾽ αἴθει στρατὸς Ἀργόλας: Cf. 78 τίς γὰρ πύρ᾽ αἴθειν πρόϕασις Ἀργείων στρατόν; and 822–3 (821–3n.) … ὅτε σοι / ἄγγελος ; and 822-3 (821-3n.) ... / ἦλθον ἀμϕὶ ναῦς πύρ᾽ αἴθειν. Reiske’s πύρ᾽ αἴθει(ν) (Animadversiones, 86) for the ‘false’ compound πυραίθει(ν) (KB II 260, 336–7, Schwyzer 726; cf. 790–1n.) in all three passages is confirmed by O’s πῦρ᾽ αἴθει here, as well as 78 πυρ᾽ αιθειν (Π²) and the double accent in the papyrus of Call. fr. 228.13 Pf. (πύραιθεῖν, corr. Pfeiffer).

Ἀργόλας: a poetic variant of Ἀργεῖος, also attested in E. fr. 630 and Ar. fr. 311.1 PCG.

Ἕκτορ: 23–4n.

πᾶσαν ἀν᾽ ὄρϕναν: ‘all through the dark night’. The preposition here is essentially local, as at Il. 14.80 οὐ γάρ τις νέμεσις ϕυγέειν κακόν, οὐδ᾽ ἀνὰ νύκτα, with its residue of a quasi-material conception of night: ‘out into the dark’ (R. Dyer, Glotta 52 [1974], 34; cf. 696–8, 774a nn.). This view is reinforced by Il. 8.553–63 (~ 10.11–13), which emphasise the quantity and distribution of the Trojan watchfires (1–51, 23–51nn.) and the way ὄρϕνη tends to denote darkness or obscurity rather than the time of night (e.g. Thgn. 1077–8 ὄρϕνη γὰρ τέταται· πρὸ δὲ τοῦ μέλλοντος ἔσεσθαι / οὐ ξυνετὰ θνητοῖς πείρατ᾽ ἀμηχανίης, Pi. Ol. 1.71, Hcld. 857–8, Ion 955). So Ritchie (181) is rightly critical about classing our phrase as a Homerism only on the basis of ‘temporal’ ἀνὰ νύκτα in Il. 14.80 (A. C. Pearson, CR 35 [1921], 56). For a comparable use of ‘spatial’ ἀνά in Attic he cites Thuc. 3.22.1 ἀνὰ τὸ σκοτεινὸν μὲν οὐ προϊδόντων αὐτῶν (LSJ s.v. ἀνά C I 2, SD 441).

Our poet’s sevenfold use of ὄρϕνη (also 69, 570, 587, 678–9, 697, 774) to stress the fact that is sinisterly dark (Ritchie 218–19) was probably inspired by Il. 10.83, 276, 386 νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρϕναίην (cf. Hainsworth on Il. 10.41). In classical tragedy only Euripides has the word (seven times), and it may be relevant that it also occurs in the ‘Euripidean’ monody at Ar. Ran. 1331 (cf. 662, 750–1a nn. and Introduction, 29–30 with n. 36). The adjective ὀρϕναῖος, however, is found in Ag. 21 (with Fraenkel).

43–3a. ‘… and the mooring places of the ships are gleaming with torches.’

διιπετῆ: a word of uncertain sense and etymology (cf. DELG s.v. διιπετής). Our poet follows Euripides and others who took it to mean ‘bright’, ‘clear’, ‘translucent’: Ba. 1267 (ὁ αἰθὴρ) λαμπρότερος ἢ πρὶν καὶ διιπετέστερος (P, testt.: διει- Elmsley), Hyps. fr. I iv.31 Bond = E. fr. 752h.31 στατῶν γὰρ ὑδάτων [ν]ά̣ματ᾽ οὐ διειπετῆ and, apparently of fire, E. fr. 815 δμωσὶ<ν> δ᾽ ἐμοῖσιν εἶπον ὡς / πυρίδες καὶ διηπετῆ (= Erot. δ 27 Nachmanson).²³⁹ In Homer it only occurs in the verse-end formula … διιπετέος ποταμοῖο (Il. 16.174, 17.263, 21.268, 326, Od. 4.477, 581, 7.284; cf. ‘Hes.’ fr. 320 M.–W.), where ancient scholars explained it as ‘fallen from Zeus’ (i.e. ‘rain-fed’)²⁴⁰ or, after Euripides, as λαμπρός, διαυγής (e.g. ΣΣ^AbT Il. 16.174, 17.263 [IV 204.49–205.64, 380.90–2 Erbse], ΣΣ Od. 4.477, 7.284 [II 315.79–317.21 Pontani + I 348.10–11 Dindorf], Hsch. δ 1535, 1784 Latte). Yet it is doubtful whether a dative δι(ε)ι- (= διϝεί) could convey the ablatival notion present in the first definition (cf. later διοπετής: IT 977–8 διοπετὴς … ἄγαλμ᾽, E. fr. 971 ὁ δ᾽ … διοπετὴς ὅπως / ἀστὴρ ἀπέσβη). With an old locative (= διϝί), and the second part derived from πέτομαι instead of πίπτω, we could translate ‘flying in the sky’, although the origin from an Indo-European or Egyptian notion of celestial rivers is again disputed (see recently West, IEPM 350–1, R. Drew Griffith, AJPh 118 [1997], 353–362). In any case, this is how the poet of the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite understood the word (4 οἰωνούς … διιπετέας) and Alcman may have been inspired to the comparison in 3 fr. 3.65–7 PMGF [ἀλλὰ τὸ]ν πυλεῶν᾽ ἔχοισα / [ὥ] τις αἰγλά[ε]ντος ἀστήρ / ὠρανῶ διαιπετής (= *δια-, ‘flying along’: G. O. Hutchinson, Greek Lyric Poetry, Oxford 2001, 109). From that passage and/or possibly a lost one that applied δι(ε)ιπετής to a meteor (~ E. fr. 971 [above]), it is easy to see how the association with ‘brightness’ or ‘clarity’ evolved.

The spelling διειπετής (Elmsley on Ba. 1266) is found in Hyps. P. Oxy. 852 (II–III AD),²⁴¹ Hsch. δ 1535 Latte (above) and recommended by the Alexandrian Zenodorus: Porph. ad Il. 16.174 (129.14–16 Sodano), Od. 4.477 (II 48.1–2 Schrader) = Σ Od. 4.477 (II 316.7–8 Pontani) Ζηνόδωρος δὲ διιπετῆ τὸν διαυγῆ ἀποδίδωσι· διὰ τοῦτο καὶ γράϕει διειπετῆ διὰ τῆς ει διϕθόγγου. If it was already current in fifth-century Athens (cf. the genuine dative-compound Διειτρέϕης [LGPN II s.v., Threatte II 230; Ar. Av. 798 (with Dunbar), 1442]), it could be what Euripides and our poet wrote. But the MSS and other evidence favour διι-, which a cautious editor may wish to retain (M. Fantuzzi, BMCR 2006.02.18, on 43).

ναῶν / … σταθμά: like our poet’s favourite (135b–6n.). ναῶν is correct (25n.).

44–8. For the enemy noises (θορύβῳ) that worry the Trojans see 1–51 and 23–51nn. In Il. 9.1–15 the Greeks succumb to Φύζα (Panic), ‘sister of chilling (2), before Agamemnon calls the host to assembly, and Dolon assumes something like that at Il. 10.325–7 γὰρ ἐς στρατὸν διαμπερές, ἂν / Ἀγαμεμνονέην, ὅθι που μέλλουσιν βουλεύειν, ἢ ϕευγέμεν μάχεσθαι. Our poet may have looked at both passages in transferring his council back to the camp from the open field of Il. 10.194–273.

44–7a. Ἀγαμεμνονίαν: 1n. (πρὸς εὐνὰς τὰς Ἑκτορέους).

προσέβα … / … θορύβῳ: Cf. 15 (n.) … ϕέρῃ θορύβῳ;

νέαν τιν᾽᾽ ἐϕιέμενοι / βάξιν: ‘eager for some new announcement’ or, in view of the accusative instead of the regular genitive object with ἐϕίεμαι, ‘long for, desire’ (LSJ s.v. ἐϕίημι B II 2, SD 105; cf. 300 μαθεῖν), perhaps rather ‘urging some new announcement’ (D. J. Mastronarde, ElectronAnt 8 [2004], 28, Liapis on 44–7). Yet the difference in meaning is slight, and maybe ἐπι- could acquire such force as to demand an accusative, or at least tolerate one, when it suited the metre.²⁴²

βάξις is here just ‘speech’, ‘utterance’ (cf. S. fr. 314.371–2 [Ichneutae] στρέϕου, μύθοις, θέλεις / βάξιν ἀπόψηκτον, S. El. 637–8 [of a prayer], Med. 1374), although perhaps with an air of authority, as from an oracle (Porter on 46, 47, Ammendola on 46).

48. ναυσιπόρος στρατιά has a near-precedent at Ag. 987 στρατός. But our phrase was probably inspired by IA 171–3 ( … ) στρατιὰν ἐσιδοίμαν / ναυσιπόρους ἡ- / μιθέων, the only other passage where ναυσιπόρος, ‘seafaring’, occurs and, by extension, also refers to the Greek στρατιά (A. Fries, CQ n.s. 60 [2010], 348; cf. Introduction, 34, 36 and 261–3n.).

49–51. Fear of royal disapproval is common among tragic messengers (e.g. Ant. 223–43, Ba. 668–71 and especially Sept. 651–2 ἀνδρὶ / μέμψῃ). But nowhere are the consequences so disproportionate to the news. For had the sentries stayed on their posts, the enemy spies could not have entered the Trojan camp.

ὑποπτεύων τὸ μέλλον: Cf. 79 (n.) οὐκ οἶδ᾽· δ᾽ ἐστὶ κάρτ᾽ ϕρενί. Like its adjective, is mainly a prose word and otherwise limited to spoken verse: S. El. 43, IT 1036, Epich. fr. 113.10 PCG (cf. [Theoc.] 23.10). Here it suits the character and content of the soldiers’ song.

ἤλυθον: The epic aorist appears nowhere in Aeschylus and only once in Sophocles (Ai. 234 [recitative anapaests]), whereas Euripides freely uses it in lyric and sometimes also non-lyric parts: Med. 1108 (recitative anapaests), IA 1339, 1349 (4tr‸), El. 598, Tro. 374, fr. 451.2 (3ia). Cf. Neophr. fr. 1.1 (3ia), Rh. 263 (lyric), 660 (3ia). For the ‘collective’ singular see KG I 85, SD 242–3.

ὡς / μήποτέ τιν᾽ ἐς ἐμὲ μέμψιν εἴπῃς: 23–51 ‘Metre’ 33/51, 33nn. The text of Lindemann (Emendationes, 7) offers ‘slightly [more] agreeable word-divisions’ (Diggle, Studies, 20) than the reconstruction of Musgrave (on 23) and Bothe (5 [1803], 285): ἐς ἐμέ τινα εἴπῃς. It also accords better with the idea that the transmitted τινα μέμψιν εἰς ἔμ᾽ (Π²Δ et Tr¹: -εις Λ) arose when was placed to follow unelided τινα.

 

52–84. After hearing the chorus’ observations, Hector quickly changes his mind about their nocturnal interruption. Oblivious of the rally at Agamemnon’s hut (44–7), he infers that the watchfires must be a trick – one frequently employed by historical generals to win time for retreat under the enemy’s eyes by feigning normal activities in the camp (e.g. Hdt. 4.134.3–135.2, Thuc. 7.80.1–3, Plb. 9.5.7, Jos. AJ 13.178).²⁴³ So for different reasons Hector himself comes round to proposing an attack (70–5), and it now falls to the coryphaeus to assume a warning tone in the brief stichomythia that concludes the exchange (76–84).

Much of the material for Hector’s speech stems from that of his epic self at Il. 8.497–541 (53–5, 56–69, 72–3nn.).²⁴⁴ But with subtle changes and allusions to other Iliadic episodes woven in (56–69, 56–8, 60b–2, 65–9, 82–3, 84nn.), our poet adapted it to the new situation and his own idea of the Trojan chief. In contrast to Rhesus, the Homeric Hector graciously gives in to dusk, despite his confidence that he was about to destroy the Achaean ships (Il. 8.498–502, 529–41). The Trojan fires were meant to prevent the enemy from escaping, or to catch them in the attempt and take revenge (Il. 8.507–16). Here their presence on the other side arouses Hector’s suspicion and provokes him to threaten similar measures in related words: 72–5 (72–3n.). One important addition to the speech is the seers, who have persuaded Hector not to prolong fighting into the night. The way he treats them recalls his attitude to Polydamas (56–69, 65–9, 84nn.), shortly before Aeneas assumes the role of this prudent counsellor (85–148n.). For the first time also we see an apparently wise suggestion courting disaster when continued battle would have forestalled the Greek spying attack.

Two other leitmotifs are introduced or reinforced in this passage. Like the seers, Hector’s repeated invocations of ‘god / fate’ and (56–8, 60b–2, 63–4nn.) prefigure the later ‘intrusions of the supernatural order into our play’ (Rosivach 54–5, 64–5). Moreover, by evoking Zeus and his deceptive support for Troy, they bring out the delusion which lies at the base of Hector’s confidence. So it is fitting that his call to arms takes up that of the unthinking chorus (70–1, 84nn.), while the coryphaeus in giving sound advice falls back on the calm but uncertain message of the antistrophe: 77, 79 (n.).

 

52. In commending the chorus on their timely arrival, Hector treats them as just the dramatic persona they are (Introduction, 39–40). His words also reflect the topos, usually uttered by the messenger himself, that there is no reward for delivering bad news (Pers. 253 ᾤμοι, κακὸν μὲν κακά, Ag. 636–49, Ant. 276–7, Phoen. 1214–18, fr. tr. adesp. 122; cf. Andr. 1084, Hec. 511–17). The diction resembles Tro. 238 καινὸν λόγον (~ Phoen. [1075]) and Hcld. 656 τί γὰρ ϕόβου;

ἐς καιρὸν ἥκεις: 10n. The combination of (εἰς) καιρόν with a verb of motion is typical of Euripides (Ritchie 251–2). Π² confirms (Chr. Pat. 1870, 2389, 2390), which also has the appropriate ‘resultative’ sense: Tro. 238 (above), Alexis fr. 151.1 PCG, Hyps. fr. 60 i.27 Bond = E. fr. 757.858 (with Bond), E. fr. 495.7–9 (Captive Melanippe) δ᾽ … / ἥσθησαν, θ᾽· ‘εἶα ἄγρα[ς]· / καιρὸν γὰρ ἥκετ᾽’· οὐδ᾽ [δόλον], where note the proximity of (49–51n.). In view of in 50 and perhaps similar phrases with ἐλθεῖν (Tro. 744, Hel. 479, 1081), the corruption into ἦλθες (Ω) was easy.

καίπερ ἀγγέλλων ϕόβον: ‘although you are bringing a message of fear’. Cf. Hcld. 656 (above), OT 917 … λέγῃ (LSJ s.v. II 2) and also Rh. 34 τὰ μὲν ἀκούειν.

53–5. The thought has been adapted from Il. 8.508–11 ὥς κεν … / πολλά, δ᾽ εἰς οὐρανὸν ἵκῃ, / καὶ διὰ νύκτα κομόωντες Ἀχαιοί / ϕεύγειν νῶτα (~ Il. 10.308–12, [147] = 327) and perhaps Agamemnon’s own desire to flee at Il. 8.242–4 and 9.27–8 (M. Fantuzzi, CPh 100 [2005], 269). For camp-fires masking withdrawal see 52–84n.

νυκτέρῳ πλάτῃ: ‘by oar at night’. While πλάτη is frequently pars pro toto for ‘ship’ (Breitenbach 174), its basic meaning remains visible in this idiom: Phil. 220–1,²⁴⁵ 355–6, Tro. 877–8, IT 241–2 ἥκουσιν ἐς γῆν, κυανέας / πλάτῃ ϕυγόντες, Or. 54–5, E. fr. 846 = Ar. Ran. 1206–8.

ἀρεῖσθαι ϕυγήν / μέλλουσι: The expression, all but repeated at 126 (126b–7n.) harks back to Pers. 480–1 δὲ ταγοὶ τῶν / κατ᾽ οὖρον οὐκ αἴρονται (with echoed in Rh. 58 σύρδην). Pace (in Scritti Gallo, 453–4), Feickert (on 54), Fantuzzi (CPh 100 [2005], 268–9 n. 2) and Liapis (‘Notes’, 51–2) err on the side of conservatism in preferring (Ω) to Nauck’s ἀρεῖσθαι (Hermes 24 [1889], 450).²⁴⁶ In references to the immediate future there is often little difference between with present and future infinitive (LSJ s.v. II, KG I 179, SD 293–4), and critical method here favours the latter. Of αἴρειν / ἀείρειν, ‘[t]enses with ἀρ- tend when they resemble a pres[ent] to be corrupted to or towards it’ (Barrett on Hipp. 198; cf. Wecklein, Textkritische Studien, 14–15, FJW on A. Suppl. 342). Π² already has the hybrid αιρεισθαι (cf. e.g. OT 1225 ἀρεῖσθε Oat: αἰρ- vel αἱρ- lrp, Tr. 491 ἐξαρούμεθα Zot: ἐξαιρ- cett.).

Similarly, Stephanus’ (Annotationes, 115, 116) for (fere Ω: ) is not only supported by Pers. 481 … αἴρονται ϕυγήν, Max. Astrol. 350 αἴροιτο and Porph. Abst. 2.29.2 ϕυγὴν … ἀράμενος, but would also have easily been corrupted that way after πλάτῃ. Otherwise, the dative could stand with intransitive-passive αἴρεσθαι, ‘put to sea’ (Barrett, Collected Papers, 258 n. 69, Pace, in Scritti Gallo, 454–5, who quotes Med. 938 μὲν ἐκ ϕυγῇ).

σαίνει μ᾽ ἔννυχος ϕρυκτωρία: ‘Their nocturnal beacons are fawning on me’, i.e. ‘… are trying to mislead me’ (52–84n.). Properly of a dog that wags its tail, (προσ)σαίνω denotes a strong (sensual) appeal to a person’s feelings and often, as here, implies deceit: Hes. Th. 769–74, Pi. Pyth. 2.82–3, Pers. 97/8–9 (with Garvie on 93–100 [p. 85]), Ag. 725/6, 795–8, Cho. 194, 420–2, S. frr. 577.3–4 885 (LSJ s.v. σαίνω III 4, R. M. Harriott, CQ n.s. 32 [1982], 11–15).

ϕρυκτωρία, like ϕρυκτός, mainly refers to beacon-fires (Ag. 33, 490, S. fr. 432.6, Ar. Av. 1161, Thuc. 3.22.8). The sense is appropriate, since to the Trojans they signal a ruse.

56–69. Our poet extrapolates from Il. 8.487 Τρωσὶν μέν ῥ᾽ and the epic Hector’s conviction that he could have defeated the Greeks that day: Il. 8.498–501 (cf. 52–84n.). The idea to carry on fighting at night (and indeed to plan an attack) presumably comes from Agamemnon’s comment at Il. 10.100–1 δ᾽ ἄνδρες , οὐδέ τι ἴδμεν, / μή πως καὶ διὰ νύκτα μενοινήσωσι μάχεσθαι, while Hector’s contempt for seers (65–9n.) mirrors his reaction to Polydamas at Il. 12.231–50 (with Hainsworth). See also Ritchie 65, Fantuzzi, CPh 100 (2005), 269–70 and in I luoghi, 256–9.

56–8. ‘Oh fate, you who have robbed me in my success, (robbed) a lion of his feast, before in one swoop I could destroy the whole Argive army with my spear!’

This sounds like a pettier version of Achilles in Il. 22.15–20 μ᾽, Ἑκάεργε, πάντων, / ἐνθάδε νῦν κ᾽ ἔτι πολλοί / γαῖαν εἷλον, πρὶν εἰσαϕικέσθαι. / νῦν μέγα κῦδος ἀϕείλεο, δ᾽ ἐσάωσας / ῥηϊδίως, ἐπεὶ τίσιν γ᾽ ἔδδεισας . / σ᾽ ἂν τεισαίμην, εἴ μοι παρείη. The lion imagery recalls the extended simile at Il. 15.630–8, which illustrates Hector’s raging in the Achaean camp. In Ag. 827–8 the victorious Greeks become like ‘a flesh-eating lion’, which jumps over the walls of Troy and licks ‘its fill of royal blood’.

ὦ δαῖμον: Here for the first time in Rhesus (perceived) success or failure is attributed to supernatural agency (Rosivach 54–5, 64–5), and one remembers the volatile favours of the Iliadic gods. But Fantuzzi (CPh 100 [2005], 270–2) considers a more tangible epic source. Our poet may have read Il. 8.500–1 as πρὶν ἦλθε, τὸ νῦν μάλιστα / Ἀργείους καὶ νῆας, ἐπεὶ Διὸς ἐτράπετο ϕρήν, like Zenodotus (Σ^A Il. 8.501 [II 381.19–22 Erbse]),²⁴⁷ instead of 501 …ἐπὶ θαλάσσης. If so, he skilfully blurred the connection, for Hector continues to believe in Zeus’ support (60b–2, 63–4nn.).

: 52–84, 665–7nn.

Cf. 325–6 ἥκει γὰρ ἐς δαῖτ᾽, οὐ παρὼν κυνηγέταις / αἱροῦσι … and, for θοίνη and its cognates of animals ‘feasting’ on human flesh, Hec. 1070–2 (where itamounts to cannibalism), E. frr. 145, 792 (with Kannicht’s apparatus) and Rh. 515 (513b–15n.) πετεινοῖς γυψὶ θοινατήριον. The simile (on the form of which see Liapis on 56–8) . The simile (on the form of which see Liapis on 56-8) here alleviates the grimness of the idea.

στρατόν: With three repetitions (78, 127, 146) our poet matches Phoenissae (711, 732, 1099, 1188)²⁴⁸ in the application of this common line end (821–3n.). Cf. A. C. Pearson, CR 35 (1921), 58.

: See 53–5n. (ἀρεῖσθαι ϕυγήν / μέλλουσι). The adverb, from σύρω, ‘drag / trail along’, is previously attested only at Pers. 53–4 / (‘in a long trailing line’ [Broadhead]; cf. Garvie on Pers. 54). Here it acquires a violent note, as a lion perhaps would drag its prey, or a river sweep everything away with it (LSJ s.v. 2, Feickert on 58, Liapis on 56–8).²⁴⁹ Herodotus and others use for the ravaging of cities in war (LSJ s.v. I 1).

Blomfield (Aeschyli Persae …, Cambridge ¹1814, on 54) proposed ϕύρδην, ‘in utter confusion’, which seems less apposite to the present text. But it also occurs in Persians (812), and together with (and δαῖμον) at S. fr. 210.37–9 (Eurypylus). Against (Schütz) in Pers. 54 see Garvie on 54.

τῷδ᾽ … δορί: Ritchie (235–6) notes the Euripidean character of such disyllabic, and often pleonastic, datives. Again they are more frequent in Rhesus than in any other tragedy.

59–62. The syntax resembles Alc. 357–62 εἰ δ᾽ καὶ μέλος / … 360 ἄν, καί μ᾽ σὸν καταστῆσαι (Ritchie 243–4).

59–60a. ‘For if the sun’s radiant lights had not †restrained me† …

… ἡλίου / λαμπτῆρες: Cf. Ion 1516 ἐν ϕαενναῖς ἡλίου περιπτυχαῖς. Euripides most often applied to the sun, stars or the sky as a whole: Cyc. 353, Andr. 1086, El. 727–8, Ion 1071–2, Phoen. 84, Ba. 631, Phaeth. 5 Diggle = E. fr. 771.5, E. fr. 919.2.

λαμπτήρ, which is non-Attic in origin (Fraenkel on Ag. 22), does not otherwise refer to solar rays, but cf. Ion 1467 ἀελίου δ᾽ (sc. ὁ δόμος) and later Nonn. D. 2.189 … Σελήνης. See also Liapis on 59–62 and West, IEPM 195–6.

: Σ^V Rh. 59 (II 330.29 Schwartz = 83 Merro) explains with ἐπέσχον. Yet this is hard to justify, for (1) does not mean ‘detain, hold back’ in classical Greek (LSJ s.v. I 4, 6) and (2) in the schema res ponitur pro defectu rei (KG II 569–70) the negative action ascribed to the subject still reflects its original force (e.g. the sun can illuminate or darken the earth [Cic. N. D. 2.49],²⁵⁰ winds can rouse and calm the sea [Ai. 674–5]). So critics were right to suspect corruption, most likely from ἔσχον in the following line (Kirchhoff, I [1855], 551). The best suggestion so far is Wecklein’s ᾽ξέλειπον (SBAW I [1897], 484), which not only carries the appropriate durative verbal aspect, but could also have been taken by our poet from S. El. 17–19 ἡλίου / ἑῷα κινεῖ τ᾽ ἄστρων εὐϕρόνη. Feickert’s μ᾽ ἔπαυσαν (~ Il. 18.267–8 νῦν μὲν νὺξ / ἀμβροσίη) founders on (2) above and is probably too far removed from the initial ξύν-. Kovacs, by accepting Heimsoeth’s (De Madvigii Hauniensis adversariis criticis commentatio altera, Bonn 1872, vii-viii), implausibly makes the sunbeams ‘slacken’ or ‘relax’ (LSJ s.v. II 1; of wind Phil. 639 τοὐκ ἀνῇ).

For further discussion see Liapis, ‘Notes’, 52–3 and E. Magnelli, Eikasmos 10 (1999), 101–4 (who improbably offers εἰ γὰρ ξύνεσχεν / λαμπτῆρας).

60b–2. Hector had threatened to burn the Greek ships and kill the men at Il. 8.180–2 (~ 14.44–7). The attempt is foiled for the moment when Agamemnon, with Zeus’ support, manages to inspire a counterattack (Il. 8.217–349).

οὔτἂν: i.e. οὔτοι + ἄν (Π²: οὐκ ἄν ΩgB). The particle τοι here emphasises the negation (GP 537, 543–4) and adds an emotional note to the whole (Feickert on 60). For its position ‘early in the apodosis of a conditional sentence’ see GP 547.

ἔσχον: ‘check’, as in the third person plural at E. El. 851–2 οἱ δ᾽, / ἤκουσαν, ἔσχον κάμακας. Also Od. 22.70 γὰρ ὅδε χεῖρας ἀάπτους.

εὐτυχοῦν δόρυ: 52–84, 56–8nn. At 319–20 πολλούς, δόρυ / καὶ Ζεὺς ἐστιν, Hector openly ascribes his success to Zeus. The words echo Hec. 18 ( μὲν …) τ᾽ ἀδελϕὸς οὑμὸς εὐτύχει δορί and Tro. 1162 … εὐτυχοῦντος ἐς δόρυ.

τῇδε πολυϕόνῳ χερί: 56–8n. (τῷδ᾽ … δορί). Apart from Rh. 465–6 πολυϕόνου / χειρός, the adjective occurs only at HF 419–21 … / κύνα Λέρνας / ὕδραν. But it looks regular, and Fraenkel (Rev. 235) suggests it may not have been rare.

63–4. ‘And I was eager to hurl my spear by night and use the impetus of good fortune the god had sent.’

ἦ: Π², coni. Cobet (VL², 593) Later (Ω, Chr. Pat. 88, 2334) often replaces the old Attic (i.e. contracted ἦα) and should only be kept when metre opposes the change (Barrett on Hipp. 700, Kannicht on Hel. 992, Parker on Alc. 655). Cf. 642–3n. for the similar issue of as against ἐχρῆν.

πρόθυμος: 665–7n.

ἱέναι δόρυ also concludes the line at Phoen. 1247.

χρῆσθαί τ᾽ εὐτυχεῖ θεοῦ: Zeus comes to mind again (56–8, 60b–2nn.), rather than an impersonal ‘god’ or ‘fate’ (M. Fantuzzi, CPh 100 [2005], 270–1 with n. 6, Liapis on 63–4). The same applies to 103 διδόντος, 582–4, 995b–6 (nn.).

The expression is best compared to Plut. Caes. 53.3 τρεψάμενος δὲ τούτους, ἐχρῆτο τῷ καιρῷ καὶ (~ Mar. 28.9 τύχης). Our poet may have been the first to employ (‘impetus, force, rush’) metaphorically (cf. Dem. 21.99 ἁπλῶς οὕτως τῆς ὀργῆς καὶ τῆς τῆς Μειδίου). Unattested in early epic and lyric, the word occurs several times in Old and Middle Comedy (Ar. Nub. 407, Pax 86, Av. 1182 [paratragic], Eccl. 4, Antiph. fr. 55.2 PCG) and has been suggested at A. fr. 451p 59.5 ] . υσμ[ | ] . σρύμ[ . (ῥύμ[η Snell).

65–9. Hector berates his seers for misinterpreting the signs, just as at Il. 12.195–250 he prefers his own supposed knowledge of Zeus’ will (~ Il. 11.200–9) to Polydamas’ caution over the eagle omen in the field (52–84, 56–69, 84nn.).²⁵¹ Scepticism about diviners and their art was traditional (952–3n.) and did not necessarily betray the foolish or impious (A. D. Nock, PAPhS 85 [1942], 476–7 = Essays on Religion and the Ancient World, Oxford 1972, 541–2, K. J. Dover, JHS 93 [1973], 63–4).²⁵² Here deference proves a fatal mistake, as the Trojans will learn in the course of the night.

65–6. οἱ σοϕοί … καὶ τὸ θεῖον εἰδότες: The bitter-sarcastic tone recalls E. fr. 795 (Philoctetes) τί … / σαϕῶς εἰδέναι δαιμόνων, / … / ὅστις γὰρ αὐχεῖ θεῶν ἐπίστασθαι πέρι, / οὐδέν (with Müller,²⁵³ Collard). is a regular epithet of seers: Sept. 382–3 θείνει δ᾽ ὀνείδει Οἰκλείδην σοϕόν, / σαίνειν μόρον τε καὶ ,²⁵⁴ OT 484, Ant. 1059, Ba. 179, 186 (Teiresias), Med. 686 (Pittheus), IT 662–3 (Calchas), Hcld. 856–7. Cf. Liapis on 65–7.

με … ἔπεισαν: Enclitics tend to assume the earliest possible position in their clause (J. Wackernagel, IF 1 [1892], 333–436 = KS I, 1–104; cf. Diggle, Textual Tradition, 59 with n. 33); hence the separation of from its verb, to which Paley (on 65) objected. Δ offers the inferior μοι … ἔϕησαν (μοι et L^1s).

Our poet often employed (a favourite verb of Euripides) to signal a wrong and potentially fateful decision or conviction on a human character’s part. Cf. 330–1, 594 (nn.), 663, 838, 937, 991 (989b–92n.), 993 (Strohm 260 n. 4, 264 with n. 4).

ἡμέρας … ϕάος: Cf. E. fr. 443.1 ὦ θ᾽ ἁγνὸν ϕάος.

68–9a. θυοσκόων: here equivalent to μάντεις (66), as at Il. 24.221 οἳ μάντιές εἰσι θυοσκόοι (~ Od. 21.145, 22.318, 321). The formation (θύος + *(σ)κοϝός) suggests ‘a person who inspected the flame or smoke of a sacrificial fire’ (Fraenkel on Ag. 87 ἀγγελίας ; cf. West’s apparatus). But the verb already indicates an extension of meaning towards other forms of divination from burnt offerings (D. H. 1.30.3 θυοσκόοι = haruspices) or the act of sacrificing as such (Ba. 224 μὲν θυοσκόους).

69b. This is one of the rare γνῶμαι in our play (Introduction, 46 with n. 91). On ‘fugitives’ (below) cf. S. fr. 63 γάρ· ἐν ἀνήρ / πᾶν πρὸς (Stob. 4.19.29).

ἐν ὄρϕνῃ: 41–2n.

δραπέτης: ‘runaway’ (Hdt. 3.137.2, Pi. fr. 134 Sn.–M., Ai. 1285, Hcld. 140, IT 1341, Ar. Ach. 1187) and, more specifically, ‘runaway slave’ (Hdt. 6.11.2, Ar. Av. 760; cf. Or. 1499, Men. Asp. 398, Carch. 35). Sisyphus Drapetes was the title of an Aeschylean satyr-play, which presumably dealt with Sisyphus’ escape from Hades.

70–5. Hector’s exhortation shows a surprising number of verbal overlaps with HF 1006–12 … πίτνει δ᾽ ἐς πέδον πρὸς … / … / 1010 ἡμεῖς δ᾽ … / 1009 σὺν / 1011 ἀνήπτομεν πρὸς κίον᾽, ὡς / (the end of Heracles’ mad / rage). Cf. 70–1, 72–3, 74–5nn.

70–1. The hysteron proteron (71) and the choice of words hark back to 23–5a ὁπλίζου χέρα, συμμάχων, / Ἕκτορ, εὐνάς, / ἔγχος αἴρειν, / (52–84n.).

ἀλλ᾽: here marking the ‘transition from arguments for action to a statement of the action required’ (GP 13–15).

πρόχειρα λαμβάνειν: For πρόχειρος of weapons ‘at hand’ see Hcld. 726–7 ἀλλ᾽ ἔχων / τεύχη κόμιζε, Phil. 747–8 εἴ τί σοι, τέκνον, πάρα / ξίϕος χεροῖν, E. El. 695–6, Hel. 1563–4 (with Diggle’s apparatus), Thuc. 4.34.1 and Xen. Cyr. 4.2.32. Our passage allows it to be attributive or predicative. The former (‘to grasp their arms that lie to hand’) evokes the Homeric practice of keeping one’s weapons close by (20–2, 740, 762–9nn.), the latter (‘to take their arms to hand’) appeals for its ‘dynamic’ note: Ag. 1651–2 (Αιγ.) εἶα δή, εὐτρεπιζέτω. / (Χο.) …, Or. 1478 ὁ δὲ ξίϕος ἐν χεροῖν ἔχων.

λῆξαί θ᾽ Cf. HF 1011 … ὡς (70–5n.). The verse-end recurs in 770 (770–2n.).

72–3. ‘… so that even if someone is leaping on his ship, he may be spear-split in his back and sprinkle the boarding-ladders with blood.’

This couplet is perhaps the most extravagant result of our poet’s ‘mosaic’ compositional technique (Introduction, 35–7). The gory details and basic syntactical structure stem from Il. 8.512–15 μὴ ἕκηλοι, / ὥς τις καὶ οἴκοθι πέσσῃ, / ἔγχεϊ ὀξυόεντι / νηὸς ἐπιθρῴσκων, where the end has even literally been worked into Rh. 72 (below). This is followed by a very poetic trimeter (73), the first half of which indicates lexical influence from Pi. Pyth. 1.28 στρωμνὰ δὲ χαράσσοισ᾽ νῶτον .²⁵⁵ In addition, perhaps harks back to Pi. Isthm. 8.49–50 (Achilles) ὃ καὶ Μύσιον πεδίον, the only other passage that combines these words for bloodshed. Moreover, as Liapis (on 72–3) points out, there is no certain instance of in classical tragedy (although ἐκραίνω occurs at Tr. 781 and Cyc. 402).²⁵⁶

ὡς ἄν: The use of ἄν and ἄν in tragedy has been examined by J. F. Dobson, CR 24 (1910), 143–4, who concludes (144) that they properly ‘express a purpose of the speaker which is capable of fulfilment in the future.’ Cf. KG II 375, 385–6, SD 665, 671, 673, Rh. 420, 473, 878 (877–8n.).

νεὼς θρῴσκων ἔπι: similarly 100 … κἀπιθρῴσκοντας νεῶν, where metre allows the retention of Homeric ἐπιθρῴσκω (LSJ s.v. I), instead of the simple verb with ἐπί postponed after its noun.²⁵⁷ Both instead of the simple verb with postponed after its noun.²⁵⁷ Both passages also recall Pers. 357–60 εἰ μελαίνης νυκτὸς κνέϕας, / μενοῖεν, / ναῶν ἐπανθορόντες / and 457 ἐξέθρῳσκον. The former may be another adaptation of Il. 8.512–15 and itself have been in our poet’s mind.

χαραχθείς: Apart from Pi. Pyth. 1.28 χαράσσοισ᾽ … (above), cf. HF 1007 πατάξας … (70–5n.) and also Ai. 110 ϕοινιχθείς. The best tragic parallel for this ‘physical’ sense of is Phil. 267 χαράγματι (of Philoctetes’ wound). Ritchie (214) wrongly quotes Med. 155–6 εἰ δὲ σὸς λέχη σεβίζει, / and the uncertain S. fr. 684.1–3 γὰρ … / … καὶ ἄνω / (v.l. χαράσσει).

κλίμακας: ‘boarding-ladders’, as in e.g. IT 1351, 1382 ἐς θορών, Hel. 1570 κλιμακτῆρας, Theoc. 22.30 (with Gow).

74–5. Hector’s plans for the survivors reverses ‘the stereotype of the servile Phrygian’ (Liapis on 74–5, with reference to his note on 31).

οἳ δ᾽ answers 72 αὐτῶν. Likewise Lys. 19.59 … καὶ ἀδελϕάς, δ᾽ ἐκ πολεμίων, τοῖς δ᾽ … (KG II 265–6 n. 4, SD 188, GP 166).

ἐν βρόχοισι δέσμιοι λελημμένοι: Although common tragic words, and (or their derivatives) are found together only in Euripides: HF 1009 (cf. 70–5n.), 1035, IT 1411 and especially Ba. 615 συνῆψε ἐν βρόχοις;

λελημμένοι (fere Π²O, Chr. Pat. 2351 pars codd.) represents the form that in tragedy has largely replaced as the regular perfect passive of (Ag. 876, S. fr. 750, Ion 1113, Ba. 1102, IA 363; cf. Cyc. 433, Ar. Eccl. 1090). VΛ’s λελη(ι)σμένοι perhaps arose by association with war booty, but the same error occurs at Ba. 1102 ( Π⁷, coni. Musgrave: λελησμ- P).

Φρυγῶν: 32n.

ἐκμάθωσι: ‘… may learn thoroughly’ (LSJ s.v. I) sounds very cynical.

γαπονεῖν: a poetic synonym of (176n.). Earlier, only γαπόνος appears at E. Suppl. 419–22 ὁ γὰρ χρόνος / κρείσσω δίδωσι. πένης, / εἰ καὶ γένοιτο ἀμαθής, τὰ κοίν᾽ ἀποβλέπειν, which, to judge by the surrounding μαθ- words, may be the source of our verb. ‘Doric’ γα- takes precedence over γη- or γεω- in tragic compounds (Björck, Alpha Impurum, 114–16, 331–2, R. Renehan, Greek Textual Criticism, Cambridge [Mass.] 1969, 117–18).

77. οὐκ ἴσμεν τορῶς: Cf. 656 and 737 . On τορός (‘piercing’ or mostly ‘clear’, ‘accurate’) see J. de Roos, in J. M. Bremer et al. (eds.), Miscellanea tragica in honorem J. C. Kamerbeek, Amsterdam 1976, 323–31. The adjective and adverb are Aeschylean – with fifteen instances (+ four in PV), as opposed to one in Euripides (Ion 696) and none in Sophocles. The combination with negatives here is unique for classical Greek and also rare later (e.g. Call. fr. 398 Pf., Plut. De Pyth. or. 22.405b).

78. … πρόϕασις …; ‘Well, what other reason … ?’ (GP 81–2, 85, FJW on A. Suppl. 586, Rh. 17–18n.).

πύρ᾽ αἴθειν: 41–2n.

Ἀργείων στρατόν: 56–8n. Morstadt’s στρατῷ (Beitrag, 16) would make the construction regular (cf. LSJ s.v. I 2), but cf. 107–8 ἄλλῳ δ᾽ ἄλλο πρόσκειται γέρας, / σὲ μὲν μάχεσθαι, (Porter on 78) and KG II 26–7 n. 2, SD 376–7.

79. Syntax and verse-rhythm resemble E. El. 644 · ὕποπτος γιγνώσκει πόλει.

ὕποπτον resumes 49 (4 9–5 1n.) τὸ μέλλον. Euripides liked the somewhat prosaic ὕποπτος (Andr. 1088, Hec. 1135, El. 345, 644, HF 1120, IT 1334, Phoen. 1210). In other early poetry only at Ag. 1637 and Phil. 136.

(also 158, 476) is all but restricted to tragedy and Ionic prose (LSJ s.v.; cf. FJW on A. Suppl. 450, Dunbar on Ar. Av. 342). Aeschylus has more cases (32) than Sophocles (17) and Euripides (12) together.

80. πάντ᾽ ἂν ϕοβηθεὶς ἴσθι δειμαίνων τόδε can hardly disguise its relationship with Hipp. 519 ἂν ἴσθι. δὲ τί;

In both places the participle with ἄν represents an independent potential optative (KG I 242–3, SD 407). On the juxtaposition of (general ‘fear’) and δεῖμα (the actual dread) see Dale and Kannicht on Hel. 312.

82–3. Surprise at Hector’s deeds is voiced by Agamemnon in Il. 10.47–50 οὐ γάρ οὐδ᾽ αὐδήσαντος, / ἄνδρ᾽ ἕνα τοσσάδε μέρμερ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἤματι μητίσασθαι, / ὅσσ᾽ ἔρρεξε διίϕιλος υἷας / αὔτως, θεοῖο.

82. ἐν δορός: ‘when the battle turned’ or ‘in their army’s rout’ (Morwood), depending on the metaphorical interpretation of δόρυ (20–2n.). In any event, inspiration seems to have come from Ai. 1275 μηδὲν ὄντας ἐν τροπῇ δορός, which likewise refers to the hard-pressed Greeks. Similar phrases are Ag. 1237 … ἐν Ant. 674–5 ἥδε (sc. ἡ ἀναρχία) συμμάχου δορός / τροπὰς καταρρήγνυσι and, phonetically, Rh. 116 (n.) … : and, phonetically, Rh. 116 (n.) ... δορός L).

83. σὺ ταῦτ᾽ ἔπραξας·· καὶ τὰ λοιπὰ νῦν σκόπει: a proud affirmation, and a warning not to risk ‘by hasty action … what has been already done’ (Paley on 83).

84. Hector reasserts his decision to fight (52–84, 70–1nn.) in a tone that recalls Il. 12.243 εἷς οἰωνὸς ἄριστος, ἀμύνεσθαι πάτρης. The closest linguistic parallel is Alc. 519 μῦθος μοι λέγειν, followed by Cho. 554 ὁ μὲν στείχειν ἔσω, Phoen. 469 ὁ μῦθος ἔϕυ and E. fr. 253.1 ὁ λέγ᾽ … (Ritchie 244).

St. Basil (leg. libr. gent. 31.576 B–C Migne) quotes the verse as ἐπ᾽ ἐχθροὺς θυμὸς ὁπλίζει χέρα. Whether the errors are his or, in part at least, MSS variants is impossible to tell (Liapis on 84). See further Introduction, 46.

ὁπλίζειν χέρα: 23–4, 99nn.

 

85–148. Aeneas arrives in haste from the direction of the Trojan camp (to the audience’s right) in order to find out about the nocturnal tumult (85–9). When Hector reveals his intention to attack the supposedly fleeing Greeks (90–104), he condemns this impetuosity in a detailed speech and recommends gathering intelligence first (105–30). The chorus support him with extraordinary vigour (131–6), and Hector agrees to dispatch a scout (137–48).

The formal purpose of the scene is to bring the story back onto the Homeric track. Unlike his epic counterpart (Il. 10.303–12), Hector is far too agitated to retract his course and propose the spying mission himself, but, in the way of Agamemnon at Il. 10.37–41, needs a more level-headed companion to lead him there (Ritchie 66). The conflict between military θάρσος and is a familiar theme in ancient literature (Mastronarde on Phoen. 746) and further exemplified by Odysseus and Diomedes later in the play (565–94n.). Here Aeneas’ role comes closest to that of Polydamas, whose invariably prudent advice to the Iliadic Hector informs the first two thirds of Aeneas’ speech (105–30n.). The same passage also betrays influence from Phoen. 697–747, where Creon opposes a number of incautious strategies which Eteocles suggests employing against the Argive host (105–30n.).

The opening dialogue between the Trojan leaders (87–104) mirrors the parodos in that it is now Hector who utters a seemingly random call to arms (90), and Aeneas has to worm solid information out of him. This reversal is underlined with linguistic echoes in Aeneas’ questions (87–9, 91–2nn.) and Hector’s explanation of what the sentries saw (95–8n.). The obstinacy with which he adheres to his understanding of the situation thus remains before the audience’s eyes, even after he has converted to Aeneas’ strategy (137–46n.). In that way it contrasts all the more sharply with his uncharacteristic respect for public opinion (131–6n.). The last order for Aeneas to ‘go and calm the allies’ (138) could not be further removed from the earlier cries for battle, which paradoxically would have saved the Trojans’ day (Strohm 258–9; cf. 52–84, 65–9nn.).

If one asks why our poet chose Aeneas and not Polydamas to counsel Hector, the easiest answer is that he wished for a more distinguished Trojan than Panthous’ son, who has no life outside the Iliad and may have been a Homeric invention (cf. M. Schofield, CQ n.s. 36 [1986], 18–19, Hainsworth on Il. 12.60). As a warrior Aeneas is second only to Hector and often mentioned in the same breath (e.g. Il. 5.467–8, 6.75–9, 17.513), while his advisory role shines through in the appellation βουληϕόρε: Il. 5.180, 13.463, 17.485, 20.83 (Janko on 13.219–20). In addition, he may owe his inclusion in Rhesus to a Thracian link. Whether he actually has an indigenous name (von Kamptz, Homerische Personennamen, 283–4, LfgrE s.v. Αἰνείας E) and originated in that area or, more probably, was adopted as the eponym of places like Aenus and Aenia in historical times (N. M. Horsfall, in J. N. Bremmer –N. M. Horsfall [eds.], Roman Myth and Mythography, London 1986, 12–13), it may be sufficient that by the early fourth century BC he was firmly connected with sites in Macedon and Thrace (cf. Introduction, 14–16, 19, 20).

 

85–6. Comments upon hurried movement and/or the anticipation of news being brought are typical features of tragic entry announcements (e.g. Pers. 247–8 γὰρ δράμημα μαθεῖν, / καὶ ϕέρει τι ἐσθλὸν ἢ κακὸν , Sept. 369–71, 372–4, PV 941–3, Med. 269–70, 1118–20, Hipp. 1151–2, Tro. 230–2, Ba. 212–14). Our couplet looks like Hec. 216–17 σπουδῇ ποδός, / Ἑκάβη, νέον τι πρὸς σὲ σημανῶν ἔπος, and imitation is supported by the fact that, far from having anything to report, Aeneas turns out to seek information himself (Taplin, Stagecraft, 147 n. 3). Cf. Klyve 44–5, who rightly doubts the idea of a conscious game with the audience’s expectations.

καὶ μήν, normally followed by a form of ὅδε, became the standard marker for new stage arrivals in later drama (GP 356, 586, Taplin, Stagecraft, 147–8, G. Wakker, in NAGP, 227–9, J. Diggle, CQ n.s. 47 [1997], 98). Cf. 627–9.

Αἰνέας: The ‘unepic’ name form, as in Il. 13.541 (metri gratia) and Pi. Ol. 6.88 (cf. Barrett, Collected Papers, 148), fits better in iambics and would thus have been preferred by the tragedians (Rh. 90, 585 and, without synizesis, S. fr. 373.1).

καί: intensifying μάλα (GP 317–18, Paley, Porter on 85).

σπουδῇ ποδός: Apart from Hec. 216–17 (above), cf. Andr. 879–80 καὶ τις ἔκδημος ξένος / σπουδῇ πρὸς (βημάτων Brunck: δωμάτων codd. et gB).

στείχει: Often in entrance announcements the verb of motion stands at the beginning of the second verse (Cho. 10–12, 16–18, OC 311–13, Phoen. 196–7). Euripides has a penchant for (e.g. Alc. 611–13, Med. 46–8, Hcld. 49–51, Tro. 707–8, Or. 459–61), Cf. 627–9, 806–7 (n.), Ritchie 251, J. Diggle, CQ n.s. 47 (1997), 98–9.

87–9. ‘Hector, why have the guards come fearfully through the army at night to your resting-place? What are they debating at night? And why has the army been disturbed?’

Aeneas’ question combines those of Hector at 13–14, 15 and 17–19 (16–19, 17–18, 19nn.). The condensed and somewhat illogical syntax gives a sense of urgency and excitement.

τί χρῆμα: If is transitive, as at Sept. 28–9 (cf. 19n.), τί here wavers between pronominal (‘what?’) and adverbial (‘why?’). Both usages are colloquial in origin, and the latter appears in Euripides only (Stevens, CEE 21–2, Collard, ‘Supplement’, 361, Ritchie 252, Fraenkel on Ag. 1306).

τὰς σὰς πρὸς εὐνάς: 1n.

νυκτηγοροῦσι: 19n. Unlike its noun, is not otherwise attested in Greek.

καὶ κεκίνηται στρατός: 17–18n.

90. Hector’s reaction corresponds to that of the chorus who at 23–33 called him to arms before telling the facts (23–51, 85–148nn.).

Αἰνέα: 85–6n.

τεύχεσιν δέμας σέθεν appears to take all its words from Hcld. 720–5 ὅπλων μὲν ὁρᾷς , / δ᾽ / … / … βάρος, / νῦν μὲν , ἐν δὲ τάξεσιν / κόσμῷ τῷδ᾽. For (‘cover’) of protective armour see also Il. 10.271 Ὀδυσσῆος πύκασεν κάρη ἀμϕιτεθεῖσα (sc. ἡ κυνέη). With δέμας σέθεν as little more than a reflexive pronoun here, the active form , Chr. Pat. 91), not the middle (Δ), is desired. Cf. Pers. 456–7 Chr. Pat. 91), not the middle (Δ), is desired. Cf. Pers. 456-7 ϕάρξαντες δέμας / ὅπλοισι, Hcld. 721 (above), Phoen. 1242 δ᾽ σῶμα παγχάλκοις ὅπλοις (Barrett on Hipp. 131–4).

91–2. ‘What is it? Surely the message is not that the enemy have set up some hidden stratagem in the night?’

Aeneas’ second question is an extended version of 17 μῶν τις λόχος ἐκ νυκτῶν; (16–19, 17–18, 85–148nn.).

τί δ᾽ ἔστι; a standard line-opening in post-Aeschylean258 drama, ‘conveying surprise’ (GP 175) and often followed by a more precise question. With μῶν τι(ς) cf. Hcld. 795 τί δ᾽ ἔστι; μῶν τι κεδνὸν ἠγωνίζετο; and Hipp. 1160–1 τί δ᾽ ; νεωτέρα / δισσὰς ἀστυγείτονας πόλεις;

μῶν: 17–18n.

δόλος κρυϕαῖος ἑστάναι: similarly Rh. 578 (n.) ἴσως τινά and E. El. 983–4 εἶ τὸν αὐτὸν τῇδ᾽ / . The variant (Chr. Pat. 94 et P^2γρ vel P^rγρ; cf. Zuntz, Inquiry, 149, Diggle, Euripidea, 510–12) would be too specific here and probably arose by analogy with 17 (17–18n.).

εὐϕρόνην recurs in the same metrical position at 736 and 852 (also Pers. 221, E. fr. 107.1). Our poet has three further instances of (literally ‘the kindly time’) as a synonym for ‘night’ (518, 617, 824).

93. ϕεύγουσιν ἅνδρες κἀπιβαίνουσιν νεῶν: Both here and in 100 ϕεύγοντας αὐτοὺς the phrasing resembles Zeus’ intention for a new Trojan attack on the Achaeans at Il. 15.63 ( … ) δ᾽ ἐν νηυσὶ .²⁵⁹ The slight hysteron proteron marks Hector’s obsession with a possible enemy escape.

κἀπιβαίνουσιν νεῶν: an even closer echo of Il. 8.512 μὴ μὰν γε νεῶν ἐπιβαῖεν ἕκηλοι than Rh. 72 (72–3n.) … καὶ νεὼς and 100 (above). Otherwise, before Rhesus, Herodotus writes ἐπιβαίνειν νεός (6.43.2, 8.118.1).

94. Klyve compares Thoas’ suspicious question at IT 1164 τί τοῦτό δόξαν ; But a better parallel is probably Ag. 272 τί γὰρ τὸ ; ἔστι τῶνδέ σοι τέκμαρ; Unlike Aeneas, the Old Argives will be convinced by Clytaemestra’s interpretation of the fire-beacons: Ag. 352 ἐγὼ δ᾽ σου τεκμήρια.

95–8. In further imitation of the parodos (85–148n.), Hector repeats the chorus’ observation at 41–2. His circular speech and use of the verb (96) belie its status as an τεκμήριον.

95. λαμπάδας πυρός: For a similar tautologous ‘genitive of material’ see Theodect. TrGF 72 F 10.1–2 ὦ εἱλίσσων / Ἥλιε.

96–8. The sentence-structure, wording and content again evoke Pers. 357–60 (quoted in 72–3n.).

οὐ μενεῖν ἐς αὔριον: The preposition here retains its full force, as in Rh. 600 ὃς εἰ διοίσει νύκτα ᾽ ἐς αὔριον, Od. 11.350–1 ξεῖνος δὲ … / οὖν ἐς αὔριον, Hes. Op. 410 and Call. Aet. fr. 43.16 Harder καὶ ἐς αὔριον (cf. Od. 7.318, Ar. Eq. 661, Alexand. Com. fr. 3.1 PCG: ‘for tomorrow’). Elsewhere it has often become meaningless: e.g. Il. 8.538 ἠελίου ἐς (with Kirk), OC 567–8, S. fr. 593.2, Alc. 320, Nicoch. fr. 18.1 PCG, Men. Epitr. 379, Pl. Crit. 43d5 (LSJ s.v. εἰς II 2).

Portus’ (Breves Notae, 69) for μένειν (Ω: ) is recommended by the future infinitive (98).

ἐκκέαντες: i.e. the old Attic aorist of (< epic ἔκη(ϝ)α, by quantitative metathesis), which is attested only in the masculine participle (cf. Ag. 849, S. El. 757 [Brunck: καί- OV: κεί- PT: κη(ι)- cett.], Ar. Pax 1133, IG I³ 476.47–8, 271 [408/7 BC]; Threatte II 529) and appealed to dramatists as metrically convenient and perhaps more traditional than καυσ-. It ‘was easily corrupted [as in V<L>] owing to its unfamiliarity’ (Finglass on S. El. 757).

πύρσ᾽: The heteroclitic accusative plural is unique (LSJ s.v. (A) I, II 2).

ἐπ᾽ εὐσέλμων νεῶν: ‘on their well-benched (or ‘well-decked’) ships’ (LSJ s.v. εὔσελμος, LfgrE s.v. B, Hoekstra on Od. 13.101). For this standard epic phrase in tragedy cf. IT 1383–4 <τ᾽> ἐντὸς εὐσέλμου νεώς / τό τ᾽ οὐρανοῦ (εὐσέλμου Pierson: L) and fr. tr. adesp. 463 σωτῆρες νεῶν. Stesichorus probably first used the trisyllabic form at Palinod. fr. 192.2 PMGF (= Pl. Phaedr. 243a9) οὐδ᾽ ἐν εὐσέλμοις (after which Haslam [QUCC 17 (1974), 44] supplied <ποκα>, for the sake of metre; Blomfield read ἐϋσσέλμοις).

99. ‘And in reaction to this you are taking up arms. With what intention?

Aeneas’ comment on Hector’s premature order to prepare for war (90) is metaphorical, rather than literally indicating a silent (and probably incomplete) arming-scene on stage (Taplin, Stagecraft, 160; cf. Klyve on 99, Wilkins on Hcld. 720–47).

ὡς τί δράσων: a set locution, especially in Euripides. Ritchie (252) cites Alc. 537 δὴ τί δράσων τόνδ᾽ ὑπορράπτεις λόγον; and Med. 682 σὺ δ᾽ τί χθόνα; but see also IT 557 … τί δὴ θέλων; and Tr. 160 ὥς τι εἷρπε, Hel. 1038 τι δράσων χρηστὸν ἐς κοινόν γε νῷν, Ai. 326, Med. 93. The ὡς is comparative in origin: ‘like someone about to do what ... ?’ (KG II 90-1, 520).

πρὸς τάδ᾽ goes with ὁπλίζῃ χέρα. For the meaning (‘in reaction / response to that’) cf. A. Suppl. 302 τί δῆ<τα> ταῦτ᾽ ἄλοχο<ς> Διός; (with FJW on 249 [II, p. 203]) and E. El. 274 τί Ὀρέστης τάδ᾽, μόλῃ; (τάδ᾽ Camper: τόδ᾽ L). Also Diggle, Studies, 38.

χέρα Most editors retain the MSS’ χέρας. But the singular (Aldine) is supported by 23 and 84 and the fact that generally in this phrase the number of χείρ matches that of the people concerned: Alc. 34–5 νῦν δ᾽ αὖ / χέρα ὁπλίσας, Phoen. 267, Or. 926, 1222–3 δ᾽ … / … χέρας, Opp. Hal. 5.258–9, Nonn. D. 1.295, Orac. Sib. 14.72. An exception is Lyc. 916–17 (Heracles) ὅς … / … χεῖρας (where metrical considerations apply).

100–1. ϕεύγοντας αὐτοὺς κἀπιθρῴκσοντας νεῶν: 72–3, 93nn.

κἀπικείσομαι βαρύς: sc. αὐτοῖς – according to the rule that, regardless of case, the object of two verbs need be expressed only once (KG II 562–3, SD 708–9). So LSJ (s.v. II 2) are wrong to class the word as ‘absolute’ here, and the same applies to the remaining passages in their list, except Theoc. 22.90–1.

is given special emphasis by its final position in both line and clause. Cf. e.g. Pers. 828, PV 77, Ant. 767, Tr. 1202, Cyc. 678, Hec. 722.

102–4. ‘For it is disgraceful for us and, in addition to the disgrace, disastrous as well to let the enemy run away without battle, when the god is handing them to us, the enemy who have done us so much harm.’

The overall sentiment matches Il. 21.437–8 (Poseidon to Apollo) τὸ μὲν αἴσχιον, / Διὸς δῶ (Klyve on 102). Hector expects an easy victory, as he transfers to the new expedition his trust in the gods’ / Zeus’ support (63–4n.).

γὰρ ἡμῖν, καὶ πρὸς αἰσχύνῃ κακόν: In addition to shame, Hector mainly seems to think of material loss, and scholars have long compared Hor. Carm. 3.5.26–7 flagitio additis / damnum. With regard to physical pain cf. Hes. Op. 211 νίκης to physical pain cf. Hes. Op. 211 (with West on 210–11), Cyc. 670 (Χο.) αἰσχρός γε ϕαίνῃ. (Κυ.) τοῖσδέ γ᾽ and, in a version equivalent to the English ‘add insult to injury’, the Charioteer at 756–7a (n.) κἀπὶ τοῖς κακοῖσι πρός / αἴσχιστα. For αἰσχρόν in situations where ‘martial prestige is at stake’ see Cairns, Aidōs, 59–60, 181–3.

θεοῦ διδόντος: probably not absolute (‘when the god grants the opportunity’), but with as object to διδόντος as well as ϕεύγειν ἐᾶσαι. Similarly e.g. Pers. 293–4 δ᾽ / θεῶν διδόντων, Sept. 719 θεῶν οὐκ ἂν κακά, Hipp. 1433–4 δέ / θεῶν ἐξαμαρτάνειν and especially IA 701–2 (Αγ.) … ὁ δ᾽ ἔσχε Νηρέως κόρην. / (Κλ.) θεοῦ θεῶν ; For δίδωμι, ‘hand over, deliver up’, cf. Il. 23.21 … δώσειν κυσὶν δάσασθαι (LSJ s.v. II 1 with Suppl. [1996]).

 

105–30. Aeneas’ speech falls into three parts: 1. criticism of Hector’s rashness (105–11), 2. the likely consequences of his plan if the Greeks fight back (112–22), and 3. advice for a safer course of action (123–30). This is the Iliadic ‘rebuke pattern’ in its simplest form (Fenik, Typical Battle Scenes, 109, 120–1, 206), which also underlies Polydamas’ tactical warnings at Il. 12.61–79, 211–29, 13.726–47 and 18.254–83 (cf. C. Moulton, Hermes 109 [1981], 2). Of these, our poet primarily excerpted the first and third, and it is probably no coincidence that they remain closest to the basic scheme.

In the sequence of thoughts, Aeneas’ characterisation of Hector as brave but imprudent combines Polydamas’ very similar opening at Il. 13.726–33 with the authorial comment of Il. 18.252 that Polydamas excelled in wisdom, Hector in valour (105–8, 107b–8nn.). Next comes the bipartite account of what could face the army in the Achaean camp. If they meet with opposition and are forced to retreat, the spiked ditch will pose a serious obstacle to the charioteers, as Polydamas warns in Il. 12.61–74, and the Trojans learn to their peril at Il. 16.367–71 (110b–18, 112–15, 112, 116–18nn.). Yet if they succeed Achilles will rise to defend the ships. This takes us back to Il. 13.726–47, which ends with the prospect of the hero’s return (13.744–7), and to Il. 18.254–83, occasioned by his first appearance (119–22, 120–1, 122nn.).

It emerges that, together with the earlier allusions to the ‘eagle omen’ (52–84, 56–69, 65–9, 84nn.), our poet adapted all four strategic interventions of Polydamas. Hector alternately takes and rejects the advice, as he does in Rhesus with the seers and Aeneas. Indeed Il. 12.61–79 and 13.726–47 ‘pleased’ the general, a reaction that is almost parodied in Rh. 137 (n.).

A tragic precedent will complete the picture. At Phoen. 697–747 Creon and Eteocles are confronted with the Argive intention to encircle Thebes (710–11).²⁶⁰ The young commander proposes 1. an instant sortie (712–23), 2. a night attack (724–7), 3. an assault at meal-time (728–31), and 4. to overrun the enemy with chariots (732–3). Creon dismisses each tactic as too dangerous, and at least two of his objections have equivalents in our speech (115, 116–18nn.). Finally, as he develops his own plan of placing seven leaders at the seven gates (Phoen. 734–47), he demands they be selected for prudence (εὐβουλία) as well as courage (θάρσος), ‘for each is worthless if separated from the other’: Phoen. 746–7 ~ Rh. 105 (n.). The reminiscence would have been caused by the similarity of context and the known risks of night raids, crossing ditches, rivers and the like. In both Rhesus and Phoenissae the new strategy becomes essential for the tragedy to unfold.

 

105–8. The lines are quoted in Stobaeus (4.13.8) among other tragic reflections on the antithesis in war. But the immediate model is Polydamas at Il. 13.726–33 Ἕκτορ, ἐσσι παραρρητοῖσι πιθέσθαι. / οὕνεκά θεὸς ἔργα, / τούνεκα καὶ ἐθέλεις ; / οὔ ἅμα πάντα ἑλέσθαι· / μὲν γὰρ θεὸς ἔργα, / […] / δ᾽ ἐν τιθεῖ νόον Ζεύς / ἐσθλόν. In his speech, as here, ‘the priamel softens the rebuke by granting that one cannot be good at everything’ (Janko on Il. 13.726–47). Further uses and variants of this maxim are discussed at 105, 106–7a, 107b–8nn.

105. ‘Would that you were as good a man in counsel as in action!’

Νο Homeric hero fully achieves the ideal of Il. 9.443 ἔργων, either because of his age or because the gods do not distribute their gifts evenly among men (F. Solmsen, TAPA 85 [1954], 1–4, H. D. Kemper, Rat und Tat …, diss. Bonn 1960, 13–22, BK on Il. 1.258). In a comparable situation (cf. 105–30n.) both virtues are required of a military leader at Phoen. 746–7 (Ετ.) θάρσει εὐβουλίᾳ; / (Κρ.) ᾽· ἓν γὰρ (Wecklein: … fere codd.).

εἴθ᾽ ἦσθ᾽ ἀνὴρ εὔβουλος ὡς δρᾶσαι χερί: The formulation is reminiscent of Hcld. 731 δρᾶν εἶ,²⁶¹ but differs from it in that an ‘expression of ability’ has to be supplied with the infinitive (Matthiae, VIII [1824], 10, GG II³ [1835], 1238). This seems possible if we think of as separable into ἀγαθὸς βουλήν, from which the adjective could also be taken to govern δρᾶσαι χερί (F. W. Schmidt, Kritische Studien zu den griechischen Dramatikern II, Berlin 1886, 370). The ellipse would still be harsher than at e.g. Pi. Ol. 6.16–17 στρατιᾶς ἐμᾶς / μάντιν τ᾽ καὶ δουρὶ μάρνασθαι,²⁶² though not extraordinary enough perhaps (for our poet) to posit corruption. Suitable remedies at any rate are hard to find. Schmidt’s δραστήριος (370), adopted by Wecklein, is a Euripidean favourite (Hel. 992,263 E. frr. 54.4, 688.4; of things Ion 985, 1185, Or. 1554),²⁶⁴ but improbable palaeographically (unless a scribe filled in a partly illegible verse). Bothe’s χερί (5 [1803], 286) unduly stresses and generalises Hector’s boldness (cf. Ai. 1142 ἄνδρ᾽ … θρασύν), while Porter’s δράσας χερί (on 105) looks too specifically at earlier deeds. Lexical change is avoided with Diggle’s lacuna after 105. He suggests … δρᾶσαι χερί / … > on the analogy of Hcld. 731 (above) and E. fr. 7a.1–2 γὰρ ὅστις μὲν ἐνδεής, / δρᾶσαι δὲ χειρὶ δυνατός, Kovacs exempli gratia 105a–b … δρᾶσαι χερί / <ἰταμῇ ἐναντίους κακῶς> (where is suspect for tragedy).²⁶⁵ Yet the meaning of the words is complete as they stand, and any addition (also if we wrote 105a–b εὔβουλος ὡς <… / …> δρᾶσαι χερί) would disproportionately expand on Hector’s skills in war. It appears that our poet tried to fit into a single line Il. 13.727–8 δῶκε θεὸς ἔργα, / καὶ ἐθέλεις ; (105–8n.) and thereby compressed the syntax a little beyond the norm.

εὔβουλος: For the value of in war add e.g. Pers. 749–50, E. Suppl. 161 (with Collard), Phoen. 721 καὶ μὴν τὸ νικᾶν <γ᾽> ἐστι εὐβουλίας, E. fr. 200, Hdt. 7.10δ.1–2. Unlike its noun, is rare in tragedy (Cho. 696, OC 947, E. fr. 472e.51).

106–7a. ἀλλ᾽ οὐ γὰρ … / πέϕυκεν: In addition to Il. 13.729 (quoted in 105–8n.), cf. e.g. Il. 4.320, 23.670–1 οὐδ᾽ ἄρα πως / ἐν πάντεσσ᾽ ἔργοισι γενέσθαι (with Richardson), Od. 8.167–77 and Pi. Nem. 1.25–8.

ἀλλ᾽ οὐ γάρ: For (…) γάρ, ‘but then / as a matter of fact …’, see GP 100–1. It here marks the non-fulfilment of the preceding wish (GP 104).

αὑτὸς … βροτῶν: The partitive genitive with ὁ αὐτός, which was severely criticised by Hermann (Opuscula III, 301) and Fraenkel (Rev. 238), is paralleled in S. El. 916–17 τοῖς αὐτοῖσί τοι / οὐχ αἰεὶ δαιμόνων παραστατεῖ (οὐχ αὑτὸς Brunck: οὐκ αὐτὸς codd.)²⁶⁶ and Phoen. 86–7 δ᾽ … οὐκ ἐᾶν / τὸν αὐτὸν αἰεὶ δυστυχῆ καθεστάναι, where Markland’s and Valckenaer’s for has been found in the MS Ab (early 14^th century) and another one at Σ Dion. Thr. GrGr I.3 289.20–1 Hilgard (cf. Diggle’s apparatus and Mastronarde on Phoen. 86). The sense and construction are analogous to τις (as against θεός τις) and the like (KG I 338–40, SD 116).

107b–8. The general truth of Il. 13.730 + 732–3 that some are better in battle, others in council (105–8n.) is applied to Hector and Polydamas at Il. 18.252 ὃ μὲν ἂρ μύθοισιν, ὃ δ᾽ ἔγχεϊ ἐνίκα.

ἄλλῳ δ᾽ ἄλλο πρόσκειται γέρας: The formulation, if not the sense, resembles PV 229–30 εὐθὺς νέμει γέρα / ἄλλα. Gygli-Wyss (Polyptoton, 137–42) qualifies Wackernagel’s assertion that ‘one of the features of the figure of speech polyptoton is that … the nominative must precede an oblique case’ (Lectures on Syntax, 644 = Vorlesungen über Syntax II, 194; cf. KG II 602, Feickert on 107). Rather, in most cases, the subject would come first anyway, and writers are free to change the order for stylistic and/or metrical reasons.

σὲ μὲν μάχεσθαι, τοὺς δὲ βουλεύειν καλῶς depends on γέρας without attraction to the dative (KG II 24–7, SD 367–8). σοὶ μὲν … τοῖς δέ (fere Chr. Pat. 2370, coni. Stephanus, Annotationes, 116) oversimplifies the construction.

109–10a. ‘You got carried away upon hearing that the Achaeans are burning fire-beacons …’

ὅστις: The antecedent is best extracted from (105), with ‘the three intervening lines forming a kind of parenthesis’ (Porter on 109).

πυρὸς λαμπτῆρας: See 59–60a n. ( … / λαμπτῆρες) and, for the pleonastic genitive, 95n. The noun is employed for ‘watchfires’ also at Ai. 285–6 ἡνίχ᾽ / ᾖθον (with Finglass on 585–7).

ἐξήρθης: ‘to be excited, agitated’ (LSJ s.v. III 3), as e.g. S. El. 1460–1 κεναῖς and in the active Thgn. 630, Ai. 1066, Hipp. 322 τί γὰρ τὸ ὅ σ᾽ ἐξαίρει θανεῖν; Alc. 346–7 (LSJ s.v. I 3). (189) is more common in this sense, especially in prose.

κλυών: As a participle dependent on an aorist verb (expressing Hector’s reaction to the news), this should also be recognised and accented as an aorist with West (BICS 31 [1984], 177–8). Our MSS invariably give the (secondary) present in such infinite or non-indicative forms. Similarly 286, 573, 858 (nn.).

ϕλέγειν: Musgrave (Exercitationes, 94 = II [1778], on 110). Zanetto alone among recent editors retains the transmitted Q) and construes like . 109 (II 330.18–331.1 Schwartz = 85 Merro) ὅστις πυρὸς Ἀχαιοὺς (Ciclope, Reso, 138 n. 13). But although, against Porter (on 110), with accusative object of an indirect perception may be acceptable (KG I 360 n. 8, SD 106–7), ἐξαίρομαι in the the pregnant sense ‘to be excited (by the belief that … )’ with accusative and infinitive seems impossible (Thuc. 1.25.4 ἔστιν ἐπαιρόμενοι, quoted by Zanetto, has the simple infinitive, and that restriction also applies to ).²⁶⁷ Confusion of the two verbs was easy, especially since forms of or ϕυγή appear in the same position at 93, 98, 100, 104 and 114 (Porter on 110). For transitive ϕλέγω, ‘cause to flame, kindle’, cf. Sept. 513 (Ζεὺς …) διὰ βέλος ϕλέγων, fr. tr. adesp. 90.2 καὶ μένος and Tro. 319–21 δ᾽ … / αὐγάν.

110b–18. At Il. 12.61–74 Polydamas advises Hector not to attempt the Achaean wall and ditch with chariots. His objections include the structure of the earthwork, which would make it hard to move and fight (Il. 12.63–6), and particularly the risk it would pose if the army was routed (Il. 12.71–4). Aeneas here naturally emphasises the latter (112–15n.) and leaves the physical details to illustrate the disaster he fears (116–18n.).

110b–11. ‘… and you intend to lead the army out over the ditch at dead of night.’

τάϕρους ὑπερβάς (plural for singular) means the Greek fortifications, as do 112 (n.) βάθος, 213 τάϕροις and, most clearly, 989–90 (989b–92n.) / τείχη Ἀχαιῶν. Mastronarde wrongly compares our lines to Phoen. 714 τῶνδ᾽, μαχουμένους for ‘the rashness of crossing one’s own defensive trench before one is certain of victory’ (my emphasis). The Trojans did not have a fortified camp in the open field.

νυκτὸς ἐν καταστάσει: an elaborate periphrasis for ‘at night’. The juncture is intelligible, but difficult to explain from the ordinary use of κατάστασις, ‘state’, ‘condition’ (LSJ s.v. II 2). Fraenkel (Rev. 237) rightly rejects Ritchie’s (214) comparison of Med. 1197 … κατάστασις (the ‘normal condition’ of Medea’s eyes) and Hipp. 1296 , Θησεῦ, σῶν κακῶν κατάστασιν (‘the state of your misfortunes’), and at [Pl.] / [Luc.] Halc. 4 μετὰ δὲ κατάστασις εὐδίας (Feickert on 111) the attribute makes all the difference.²⁶⁸ Perhaps Ag. 22–4 ὦ χαῖρε λαμπτήρ, νυκτὸς / (‘Oh welcome, beacon, you show the light of day by night and signal the institution of many dancing choruses …’), where νυκτός and κατάστασις, as well as λαμπτήρ, occur in the same positions (and mark a similar contrast between light and dark), exerted some influence (cf. Liapis on 109–11, Introduction, 37). ‘At dead of night’ or, more accurately, ‘while the night is established’ (LSJ s.v. ἵστημι B III 4), conveys the meaning here.

112–15. Aeneas’ general warning of a Trojan defeat follows the pattern of Il. 12.71–4 / , / / . In Il. 12.223–7, the ‘bird omen’ speech (56–69, 65–9nn.), Polydamas again predicts heavy losses and a chaotic retreat, which becomes reality at Il. 16.367–71 (cf. 116–18n.).

112. ‘But having crossed the hollow depth of the trench …’

The expression implies some of the difficulties envisaged by Polydamas in Il. 12.61–3 ἀγοὶ ἐπικούρων, / (~ Il. 12.52–4). For the construction of the Achaean ditch see 116–18n.

καίτοι ‘introduces an objection … of the speaker’s own, which tends to invalidate, or cast doubt upon, what he has just said’ (GP 556).

περάσας κοῖλον αὐλώνων βάθος: Cf. 110b–11n. ὑπερβάς). The use of (generally ‘hollow’) for τάϕρος may be an Aeschylean borrowing (fr. 419) both here and at Carc. II TrGF 70 F 1d (Achilles) Sophocles has the word, which in poetry can be masculine and feminine, in Tr. 100 (‘straits’) and fr. 549.2 (‘creeks’), Euripides not at all. The ‘deep’ trench goes back to Il. 7.440–1 /

113–14. κυρήσεις πολεμίους: The accusative (other than of a neuter pronoun or adjective) is rare with κυρέω: Sept. 699 (with Hutchinson on 698–701), Hec. 698 Rh. 695 Opp. Hal. 1.34 (LSJ s.v. I 3 a, falsely adding Hipp. 746–7, where the participle is of KG I 350 n. 9).

ἀλλὰ σὸν βλέποντας ἐς δόρυ: ‘This is indeed the situation which greets H[ector] when he gets into the Greek camp at Il. 13.145–8’ (Klyve on 114). For the language, reminiscent of hoplite warfare (Tyrt. fr. 12.10–12 IEG), cf. E. Suppl. 318–19 / E. El. [377–8] and HF 163–4 (with Bond on 164).

115. ‘… if you are defeated, you will never return again.’

The risk of utter destruction is particularly high at night, as Creon points out to Eteocles at Phoen. 725 (with Mastronarde on 724–31). One may add that the Greeks would here be fighting in their own camp.

νικώμενος μέν is answered by 119 νικῶν δ᾽. Both times we have ‘present for perfect’, as often with that verb (KG I 136–7, SD 274).

: The MSS give the unmetrical τήνδ᾽ οὐ μὴ μόλῃς πόλιν (L), or τήνδε μὴμόλῃς πόλιν (fere Q et Tr³ [ O]), which neither as a prohibition nor as a positive statement of anxiety (‘I fear you may …’) makes any sense. Wecklein, Murray, Diggle, Kovacs and Liapis (cf. ‘Notes’, 53–4) thus read Cobet’s οὔτι μή (VL², 583) with Reiske’s for πόλιν (Animadversiones, 86–7), all others (G. H. Schaefer, Euripidis Tragoediae III, Leipzig 1811, 85). This is only a step away from the paradosis on the assumption that, as often, μὴ οὐ in synizesis was reduced to μή, and οὐ then wrongly reinserted in the L(P)-branch from an earlier corrector’s interlinear note (Feickert on 115, Mastronarde apud M. Fantuzzi, BMCR 2006.02.18, on 115). Yet a strong future denial with οὐ (KG II 221–2, SD 317) rather than the milder expression of fear or suspicion with μὴ οὐ (KG I 224, SD 317)²⁶⁹ is desired in Aeneas’ urgent attempt to dissuade Hector from his plan. Also, τήνδε … ill suits the setting on the Trojan plain and could as well be a scribe’s as the poet’s reminiscence of Il. 12.73–4 οὐκέτ᾽ / (cf. Jouan 61 n. 28, Fantuzzi [above]). Once (~ ἄψορρον) had become (cf. e.g. Sept. 613, OC 426, E. Suppl. 460), it was easy to supply τήνδε for clarification, which then corrupted the negatives in various ways. Apart from Phoen. 725 (above), Cobet’s and Reiske’s text has a parallel at IA 1464 … καὶ

116–18. The Trojans do break the poles (not axles) of their chariots when they take headlong flight through the Greek ditch in Il. 16.367–71. Polydamas especially warned of the pointed stakes (σκόλοπες) that lined its inner crest: Il. 12.63–4 ~ 12.54–7 (with Hainsworth). The ‘causeways’, (117n.), are not mentioned in the Iliad, but at 12.118–19 ὄχεσϕιν ‘the poet seems to envisage some means of passing the ditch in front of the gate’ (Hainsworth), and the same must be true whenever men and/or chariots cross it without apparent trouble (Il. 8.254–5, 10.194, 198, 564). Perhaps our poet thought of Il. 15.357–8, where Apollo ‘made a large and wide causeway’ (… γεϕύρωσεν δὲ …) for the Trojans by kicking in the spoil-heaps on either side of the trench.

A deep ford is the problem that Eteocles recognises in Phoen. 730 (with Mastronarde on 730–1).

116. so rightly Q ( Va²). L has … δορός, doubtless by reminiscence of 82 (n.) … δορός.

σκόλοπας: 116–18n. The plural in the sense ‘palisade’ is Homeric (Il. 7.441, 8.343, 9.350, 12.55, 63, 15.1, 344 [all of the Achaean fort], Il. 18.177, Od. 7.45 [the townwalls of Troy and Scheria]) and in other classical literature occurs only at Hdt. 9.97 and Xen. An. 5.2.5 (LSJ s.v. I 1). Euripides refers to as an instrument for impaling (El. 898, IT 1430, E. fr. 878).²⁷⁰

117. γεϕύρας: Most broadly, in Homer, … is a mound of earth either along or across a ditch or river-bed’ (Kirk on Il. 5.87–8). So ‘causeways’ seem to be meant here (116–18n.) rather than separately constructed ‘bridges’ over the moat.

: ‘pass over, cross’ with an accusative of space (LSJ s.v. I 2).

ἱππηλάται (‘charioteers’) again evokes epic, where is a ‘quasi-title of old and legendary heroes’ (LfgrE s.v. B). Aeschylus uses the word adjectivally at Pers. 126–7 (‘cavalry and infantry’), and a trace of it presumably remains in A. fr. 36b 4.3 ]. ( Siegmann), ascribed by Lobel to Glaucus Potnieus, the third play of the tetralogy that included Persians.

118. ‘… without shattering the axle-boxes of their chariots.’

ἢν ἆρα μή: sc. διαβάλωσι. There have long been objections to this unique variant of εἰ μὴ ἄρα (nisi forte), which itself is unattested in drama. But none of the conjectures (Wecklein, Appendix, 49) or reinterpretations (like ‘if at all, without …’ [Wilamowitz, Hermes 61 (1926) 288 = KS IV, 415]) are convincing, and it seems that we must accept the expression here (Fraenkel, Rev. 239; cf. Liapis on 117–18). For ἆρα as a metrical equivalent to ἄρα in poetry see LSJ s.v. A II and GP 44–6.

θραύσαντες ἀντύγων χνόας: M. Magnani (Paideia 56 [2001], 107–11) well exposed the difficulties of this phrase, which had already received a (rather desperate) note in Cyr. / Hsch. α 5546 Latte (~ Suda α 2660 Adler [ἀντυγ- M^ec]: οἱ τροχοὶ τοῦ ἅρματος). For while ἄντυξ, ‘chariot-rail’ (LSJ s.v. I 2), could by metonymy stand for the vehicle as such (Rh. 238 [n.], Call. Dian. 140–1), it is strange to see it in that function here, where χνόαι (‘naves’ or ‘axle-boxes’) denotes precisely a part of the whole. Blaydes (Adversaria Critica, 2 ~ Analecta Tragica, 128) proposed ἀξόνων on the model of Sept. 153 χνόαι, S. El. 745–6 and Ar. Nub. 1264–5 … / (~ Xenocl. I TrGF 33 F 2 + T 1). But the error is not easily explained, unless indeed S. El. 745–6 comes in from scribal reminiscence or a gloss. Most likely, therefore, and given the antiquity of the transmitted text, the expression goes back to the poet himself, who recalled Sophocles’ celebrated account of Orestes’ ‘death’ (El. 680–763) and joined the key terms of its climax in an unusual way (A. Fries, CQ n.s. 60 [2010], 345–51, Introduction, 36).

119–22. If they are victorious, the Trojans will have to face Achilles, who will not idly watch the destruction of the camp (cf. Il. 9.650–5). This is also Polydamas’ fear when he advises Hector to rally his men at Il. 13.744–7 / χρεῖος, / ὀΐω. Similarly, in his last speech, Polydamas (unsuccessfully) proposes to return to the city because Achilles has reemerged and will now fight to the end (Il. 18.254–83).

119. νικῶν δ᾽᾽: 115n. ( ).

ἔϕεδρον: a sporting metaphor, which presents Achilles as a formidable (and well-rested) opponent. The ἔϕεδρος was a wrestler, boxer or pancratiast who had drawn a bye and ‘sat by’ a fight, ready to take on the winner in the following round: e.g. Pi. Nem. 4.96, Cho. 866–8 (with Garvie), Ar. Ran. 791–4, Xen. An. 2.5.10 (LSJ s.v. II 4). In comparison with Phoen. 1095 <δ᾽> (‘reserve’), the word gains special emphasis here, as one man is said to be ‘waiting for’ an entire host.

Later in the play ἔϕεδρος (954) and (768) appear in the non-technical sense of a ‘besieging’ army (768–9, 954–6nn.).

120–1. The relative clause perhaps echoes Il. 13.747 ( ἆτος (119–22, 122nn.).

ναυσὶν ἐμβαλεῖν ϕλόγα: Cf. Rh. 990 (989b–92n.) … ναυσὶν αἶθον and, for the verse-end alone, Alc. 4 … ϕλόγα. Aeneas did not hear Hector’s threat against the ships at 60–2, but it is easy to assume that he voiced this more than once.