Ἀχαιοὺς ὡς δοκεῖς ἀναρπάσαι: For in the sense ‘seize by storm’ or ‘ravage’ (people) see Hdt. 8.28 9.59.2, Batr. 264 οὗτος ἐπαπείλει, D. H. 5.22.3, 5.44.4, 7.4.1 (LSJ s.v. III).

122. ‘For the man is fiery and of towering boldness.’

The verse combines, and translates into tragic language, Polydamas’ descriptions of Achilles at Il. 13.746 and 18.262

αἴθων γὰρ ἁνήρ: Of the human temperament αἴθων, ‘fiery, burning’, is first attested in Sept. 447–8 … / αἴθων … and Ai. 221/2 ἀνδρὸς αἴθονος (with Finglass on 221/2–222/3), 1088 all of which could have been in our poet’s mind (cf. Fraenkel, Rev. 231, Hutchinson on Sept. 448). Οne also thinks of the many fire similes that are applied to Homeric heroes, especially perhaps Il. 13.53 (~ 13.330, 688, 17.88, 18.154, 20.423) ϕλογὶ εἴκελος (ἀλκήν) and, of Achilles, Il. 20.371–2 / εἰ (H. Fränkel, Die homerischen Gleichnisse, Göttingen 1921, 49–52).

For the etymology and semantics of (< αἴθομαι, αἴθω) see O. Levaniouk, HSPh 100 (2000), 25–51 (26–36), who argues convincingly that ‘fiery, burning’ (LSJ s.v. I) takes precedence over all other meanings which have been assigned to the word (LSJ s.v. II of metals: ‘flashing, glittering’, III of animals: ‘red-brown, tawny’).

καὶ πεπύργωται θράσει: literally ‘and towers in boldness’ (cf. LSJ s.v. II). The closest parallels are Or. 1567–8 οὗτος σύ … / HF 238 … οἷς (with Bond) and Pers. 192 χἢ μὲν τῇδ᾽ ἐπυργοῦτο στολῇ (of a horse). In all these places ‘lofty pride’ is the predominant notion, although here at least it gives cause for real concern. So Ajax is called a πύργος in Od. 11.556 (~ Callin. fr. 1.18–21 IEG). Cf. A. W. H. Adkins, HSPh 81 (1977), 74 with n. 48, H. Bernsdorff, ZPE 158 (2006), 3 and, for the motif in general, West, IEPM 454–5.

Murray, Porter¹, Zanetto and Jouan read (VaLgB) on the hypothesis (stated by the first two)²⁷¹ that intruded from Or. 1568. But the instrumental dative with always refers to an external ‘force’ (add E. Suppl. 997–8, Ion TrGF 19 F 63.1 and Ar. Pax 749–50 to the examples quoted), and in view also of Il. 18.262 οἷος (above), our poet would have had no reason to change the phrase. Yet the process of corruption may have been the same, since χερί stands at the end of Or. 1567.

123–4. ‘No, let us allow the army to sleep quietly by their shields (and rest) from the toils of deadly warfare.’

ἀλλά: 70–1n. Aeneas suggests the exact opposite of Hector’s ‘call for action’.

Cf. 20–2 (n.) οὐκ οἶσθα δορὸς πέλας / / and 739–40 Unlike the Thracians in our play (762–9, 792nn.), the Trojans keep their equipment well-ordered and ready for use (cf. Il. 10.75–7, 150–3, 471–3).

ἐκ κόπων ἀρειϕάτων: ‘(to get a rest) from … ’, as implied in εὕδειν. More clearly S. El. 231

For in tragedy cf. Eum. 913–14 … / … A. fr. 146b (~ fr. 147 ἀρείϕατον λῆμα?), E. Suppl. 603–4 / ϕόνοι and E. fr. 741a ]. .[. . . .].[. .] [. Epic ἀρηΐϕατος means ‘slain in war’ (Il. 19.31, 24.415, Od. 11.41, Heraclit. 22 B 24 DK,²⁷² Opp. Hal. 3.562), and while the dramatists used the word almost like ἄρειος (Sideras, Aeschylus Homericus, 50, Collard on E. Suppl. 603–7), we need not suppose that the second element lost all its force. Some association with ‘killing’ probably remained (Porter on 124 [with ‘Addenda et Corrigenda’ (²1929), lv], FJW on A. Suppl. 633).

Klyve (on 124) prefers (Δ) to (Λ). The latter indeed appears as a gloss on πόνος and the like (FJW on A. Suppl. 209), but must be the lectio difficilior here. In 763–4 the Thracians are said to have slept /

125–30. On Aeneas’ role in proposing to send out a spy and its relationship to Iliad 10 see 85–148n. In tragedy cf. Sept. 36–8 σκοποὺς and Hcld. 337–8

125–6a. κατάσκοπον δὲ πολεμίων: likewise 140 (n.) … πολεμίων κατάσκοπον and 809 … (of the Greeks, i.e. with a subjective genitive). Owing mainly to its theme (Ritchie 218), Rhesus has six further cases of (129, 505, 524, 592, 645, 657), which, like and κατασκοπέω, probably entered later dramatic idiom from prose. Cf. Phil. 45, Hec. 239 (= Rh. 505), Hel. 1607, Ba. 838, 916, 956, 981, fr. tr. adesp. 712.13,²⁷³ Lyc. 784, Ar. Thesm. 588 (paratragic), Antiph. fr. 274.2 PCG, Men. Peric. 295 (Pritchett, GSW I, 130, who is wrong to say that occurs once in Homer).

126b–7. κἂν μὲν αἴρωνται ϕυγήν: 53–5n. Wecklein in his edition (~ Textkritische Studien, 14) wrote ἄρωνται, but the durative aspect of the present is desired here. The MSS’ ϕυγῇ, corrected by Stephanus (Annotationes, 116), may have arisen after 54 … Stephanus) or from in 125.

Ἀργείων στρατῷ: 56–8n.

128–30a. ἐς δόλον τιν᾽: Cf. 91–2 … / ϕρυκτωρία: 53–5n.

130b. τήνδ᾽᾽ ἔχω γνώμην, ἄναξ: Such short, affirmative statements often conclude a speech in drama: e.g. Ag. 582, A. fr. 47a.21 (Diktyoulkoi) Eum. 710, Or. 1203 Phil. 389 λόγος λέλεκται πᾶς, Men. Epitr. 292 εἴρηκα τόν γ᾽ ἐμὸν λόγον (Collard, ‘Supplement’, 376). Cf. Athena at 640

O’s makes no sense here. The phrase fills the same position in Alc. 1107, followed by 1108 νίκα νυν· ἁνδάνοντά μοι ποιεῖς, which shares two words with Rh. 137 νικᾷς,

 

131–6 ~ 195–200. This is the first of two pairs of separated but responding stanzas in Rhesus. Yet unlike 454–66 ~ 820–32 (n.), which spans nearly half the play, the present pair remains confined to one ‘act’ (85–223). Among other tragic instances of divided song (Hipp. 362–72 ~ 669–79, Or. 1353–65 ~ 1537–48, Phil. 391–402 ~ 507–18, OC 833–43 ~ 876–86),²⁷⁴ the closest in form and function is Phil. 391–402 ~ 505–18, where twice within the long first epeisodion (Phil. 219–675) the chorus support Neoptolemus (cf. Phil. 146–9 / τῶνδ᾽ οὑκ μελάθρων, / / παρὸν θεραπεύειν). Similarly here the sentries intervene at important stages in the plot (Ritchie 328). With Aeneas’ proposal to dispatch a spy the action is about to take a major turn (85–148n.), and it will be the passionate strophe that tips the scales (131–6, 137–46nn.). The antistrophe, on the other hand, comes when everything is settled (or so it appears). The chorus praise Dolon for his audacity and the glorious reward he has secured. Only a touch of scepticism hints at the disaster ahead (195–200n.).

It is noteworthy, though not surprising, that most separated odes in tragedy belong to the iambo-dochmiac class. Like many astrophic lyrics (‘act-dividing’ or not), their individual stanzas are designed as spontaneous outbursts in response to the preceding scene or speech, and the audience, after hearing the strophe, will not automatically expect an antistrophe to follow later in the play. One partial exception to this ‘rule’ is Rh. 454–66 ~ 820–32, which combines iambo-dochmiacs with a longer dactylo-epitrite run.

Metre

131–6 ~ 195–200. Dochmio-iambic (cf. above). Apart from the slightly unusual verse 131 (131/195n.), the composition is plain, with strict metrical responsion throughout. The two most common forms of dochmiac ( - and -) predominate.

Notes

131/195 The strophe (131) has split resolution in the final element of the first dochmiac, which is very rare, especially in forms other than (L. P. E. Parker, CQ n.s. 18 [1968], 267–8, Diggle, Euripidea, 378 n. 53, with HF 1070, Tro. 253 and maybe Andr. 842). Equally notable, if of less rhythmical import, is the four-syllable ‘overlap’ between the two dochmiacs (τάδε δοκεῖ, τάδε με|ταθέμενος νόει), caused by the long participle and paralleled only at Sept. 692–3 … ἵμερος ἐξοτρύ- / νει Phoen. 176 (though see Diggle’s apparatus and Mastronarde [p. 177]) and again HF 1070 (making it closest in shape to our line).275

The responding word-end after the second long (131 τάδε δοκεῖ | … ~ 195 | …) may be the reason why some have preferred (or envisaged) the analysis ‸ia | lec (cf. Schroeder² 167, Ritchie 299, Dale, MATC III, 150, Zanetto 66). ‘But the sequel should leave us in no doubt that the verse is dochmiac’ (Willink, ‘Cantica’, 26 n. 19 = Collected Papers, 565 n. 19).

133–4/197–8 The continuous run of dochmiacs makes line-division a mere typographical choice.

135/199 Willink (‘Cantica’, 26 = Collected Papers, 565) calls this a ‘characteristic “sub-dochmiac” iambic dimeter (tolerant of split resolutions) ’. But while cola of the shape - are indeed frequent with dochmiacs (West, GM 112), nothing invites us to believe that the context would make them more susceptible to ‘splits’. Of the cases Willink cites (also ed. Orestes, 113 and CQ n.s. 49 [1999], 420 = Collected Papers, 289), some are textually suspect or admit of alternative scansions (Sept. 157 ~ 165, Or. 329 ~ 345, 1253 ~ 1273),²⁷⁶ others have no (real) split resolutions at all (Ag. 1091 ~ 1096, Cho. 155, Hipp. 878,²⁷⁷ Hec. 1031, Rh. 693 ~ 711). Moreover, the phenomenon occurs in various surroundings.

136/200 The line should be taken as ‸ia ia (lec) δ, not δ ia | ‸ia with Conomis (Hermes 92 [1964], 46), Diggle, Kovacs, Liapis and, hesitantly, Pace (Canti, 24) and Feickert. - is not unusual (especially in Aeschylus), but never, it seems, ends a stanza or ode. And if the lecythion here is iambic instead of catalectic trochaic (see West, GM 99–100), there is no objection to having it run over in synartesis, as also, against Diggle, at E. El. 1153–4 ~ 1161–2 ‸ia ia (lec) (Willink, ‘Cantica’, 26 = Collected Papers, 565–6). For the clausular dochmiac preceded by 2ia | or lec | cf. Cho. 944–5 and Med. 1281 ~ 1292.

As in Rh. 454–66 ~ 820–32 (p. 293), responsion extends to the wording with a series of structural and/or phonetic echoes, doubtless reflecting musical phrases: 131 … τάδε ~ 195 μέγας … μεγάλα, 134 ~ 198 136 δαίεται ~ 200 ϕαίνεται. Also, Rh. 131 ~ 195 may be included in the list of examples where word-repetition in dochmiacs does not (quite) follow a specific pattern (Diggle, Euripidea, 296–7, 376–8).278

 

131–6. Like Phil. 391–402 ~ 507–18 and Rh. 454–66, this choral strophe replaces the normal two- or three-trimeter comment after a major speech. As such, it stands out for its bias and the freedom with which the sentries criticise Hector’s judgement. Their lack of deference, especially for a chorus of soldiers, has been considered dramatically superfluous and even a reflection of Macedonian army ἰσηγορία (cf. Introduction, 19, 20; also Liapis on 137). But Hector is bound to accept Aeneas’ plan (or the plot could not return to Iliad 10), and by giving the chorus a vital role, our poet characterises his general as not only rash, but also susceptible to pressure from below (85–148, 137–46nn.). We shall see manifestations of both traits throughout the play.

 

131. τάδε δοκεῖ, τάδε … νόει: Dawe’s δόκει (apud Diggle) would reinforce the chorus’ appeal (and the linguistic parallelism), but the imperative of this verb usually takes an infinitive construction (e.g. PV 436–7, S. El. 312–13, Alc. 53, Rh. 665, 940; implied at Ar. Thesm. 208), and we should expect a reaction to Aeneas’ speech first. Cf. Liapis, ‘Notes’, 54.

μεταθέμενος: ‘change one’s mind, retract’ (LSJ s.v. μετατίθημι II 4 a). Hn alone is right here against Ω’s (Introduction, 50). 132. ‘I do not like a general excercising his authority in a way that risks disaster.’

The sentries turn into personal criticism what has been expressed in a gnomic fashion or context at Phoen. 599 E. Suppl. 508–9 / νεώς τε ναύτης (with Collard on 508b–10) and E. fr. 194.3–4 ἐγὼ γὰρ / . Their exceptional frankness (131–6n.) is reminiscent of Archil. fr. 114 IEG / (where note the verbal overlaps with our passages in the first and fourth line). For another Archilochian echo see 166n.

σϕαλερά: i.e. ‘likely to make one stumble / trip’ (LSJ s.v. I), since the chorus fear that Hector will lead the army astray (cf. 110–11). But with persons especially it is often difficult to distinguish between this active sense of and the middle-passive ‘ready to fall, uncertain, fallible’ (cf. LSJ s.v. II, III, Stockert on IA 21).

δ᾽᾽ stands for γάρ as not infrequently in poetry and very seldom in prose (GP 169–70). Cf. 182, 618, 626, 635, 647, 852, 965.

comes close to βίη and the like (KG I 280–1): ‘generals in their position of authority’. For κράτος more directly of powerful individuals see 821–3n.

133–6. ‘For what is better than to have a swiftly-pacing spy go near the ships (to see) why the enemy are burning watch-fires in front of their naval station?’

133–5a. ταχυβάταν: a hapax, albeit of regular formation. Cf. A. fr. 280 (Hsch. α 8338 Latte) αὐριβάτας, ‘swift-striding’, Pers. 1072, Bacch. 3.48 ἁβροβάτης, ‘soft-stepping’, and also e.g. [Arist.] Phgn. 813a 7, 9 ταχυβάμων. It may have been in tragic use before Rhesus.

κατόπταν: 631–2n. Given the form, Hsch. κ 1840 Latte belongs either here or to 557–8 ναῶν / … (Wecklein: -ταν Ω).

135b–6. ὅτι ποτ᾽ ἄρα … / … δαίεται: The indirect question, which easily attaches to the verbal noun κατόπταν (Porter on 134 ff.), seems to have been inspired by Il. 9.75–7 / (sc. . The particle ἄρα adds a sense of urgency or excitement (GP 39–40, LSJ s.v. B 2).

‘in front of’ or ‘face to face’ (LSJ s.v. ἀντίπρῳρος 2). Compounds with were often used ‘metaphorically to indicate simply the forward end of something’ (Fraenkel on Ag. 235). Yet in the context here, and despite the fact that ships were drawn ashore stern first, one also recalls the literal meaning, common in the historians, ‘with the prow towards’ (LSJ s.v. 1; cf. Denniston on E. El. 846). For κατά (with accusative), ‘along, opposite’, see LSJ s.v. B I 3, KG I 477–8, SD 473–4 and e.g. Rh. 371, 421 κατ᾽ ὄμμα, 409, 491, 511 κατὰ στόμα.

for the Achaean naval camp recurs in 244, 448, 582, 591, 602 and 673. The accusatives at 244 and 602 prove it to be neuter as in Thuc. 3.6.2 and presumably 6.49.4 δὲ ἐπαναχωρήσαντας. Later a masculine form is attested and the preferences of authors vary. As a technical term the word is otherwise confined to prose.

δαίεται: The assonance with δαΐοις is noteworthy (Feickert on 135), particularly since καίεται, after Il. 9.77 (above), would have scanned as well (and was indeed conjectured by Hartung [17 (1852), 123]). It is unclear, however, whether δάϊος and are related (GEW, DELG s.v. δήιος) and/or whether the ancients saw them that way.

 

137–46. Hector betrays his military weakness by giving in not to Aeneas’ (apparently) sound advice, but to the majority of the ranks (85–148, 131–6nn.). His entire response, moreover, is built on Aeneas’ plan for action (123–30), except that the inverse position and extended treatment of a possible enemy escape (126–7 ~ 143–6) show that this topic is still foremost in his mind. Numerous verbal echoes (140, 141–2, 143–5a, 145b–6nn.) bear further witness to his lack of independent thought.

137. νικᾷς: Bothe (5 [1803], 288) for (Ω, Chr. Pat. 498). With this very small change, rejected by Zanetto (Feickert) and Jouan,²⁷⁹ our verse becomes an appropriate first reply to Aeneas’ speech (Bothe; cf. M. Fantuzzi, BMCR 2006.02.18, on 137) and largely conforms to the rule that ‘characters do not … allude to what is said in choral odes’ (Stevens, Andromache, 114, who notes OT 216 as an exception). The expression follows E. Suppl. 947–8 γὰρ εὖ / Θησεύς and Hyps. fr. 20/21.13 Bond = E. fr. 754b.13 (init. suppl. Wilamowitz). In both these passages the speaker gracefully concedes a point after brief discussion, which throws into even sharper relief the bathos in Hector’s change of mind.

‘since everybody agrees on this.’ The verb brings out the contrast with Il. 12.80 = 13.748 , (105–30n.). of collective opinion seems to be Herodotean: 4.145.5 δὲ ἕαδε , 4.153, 4.201.2, 6.106.3, 9.19.1 (LSJ s.v. II with Suppl. [1996], where Hdt. 7.172.1 and 9.5.2 belong under I).

138–9. Hector remains preoccupied with the idea that the army could have been disturbed by their nocturnal assembly (17–18, 87–9nn.). Fear of creating a commotion recurs in ‘Arist.’ fr. 159.9–12 Rose (Aporemata Homerica)²⁸⁰ as one reason why at Il. 10.194–253 the Greek chiefs meet outside the wall (cf. Fantuzzi, in I luoghi, 254–5 and Ancient Scholarship, 49–53, who improbably advocates a common source for Rhesus and ‘Aristotle’).

κοίμα: Pierson (Verisimilium I, 81). ( Va) is wrongly defended by Ammendola (on 138–9), Ebener (WZRostock 12 [1963], 205) and Zanetto (Ciclope, Reso, 139). As at 662 (Δ: κοσμ- Λ), the idea of ‘putting to rest, calming’ is needed here, and κοσμέω in a military context generally means ‘order’ or ‘marshal’ troops (LSJ s.v. I 1, Liapis on 138–9). The error may be a simple misreading or an unconscious alteration to a more common phrase.

τάχ᾽ ἂν στρατός / κινοῖτ᾽᾽: 17–18n.

140. πέμψω πολεμίων κατάσκοπον: Cf. 125–6 κατάσκοπον δὲ … / πέμπειν δοκεῖ μοι (137–46nn.). For κατάσκοπος see 125–6a n.

141–2. ‘And if we learn of some trick on the enemy’s part, you will hear everything and be present to know the report.’

κἂν μέν τιν᾽ ἔχθρων μηχανὴν πυθώμεθα resumes 129 μαθόντες (137–46nn.).

πάντ᾽ ἀκούσῃ καὶ παρὼν εἴσῃ λόγον: a somewhat tautological variation on the idea that first-hand knowledge is preferable to a later report: Pers. 266–7 καὶ γε κοὐ /… ϕράσαιμ᾽ ἄν (with Garvie), Cho. 851–4 (Diggle, Euripidea, 81 n. 60). The participle in such cases nearly equals αὐτός, which may or may not also be present (P. von der Mühll, MH 19 [1962], 202–3). Cf. 179 (n.) καὶ γ᾽ αὐτὸς αἱρήσῃ παρών.

Almost the reverse formulation is found at 640–1 (n.) … ὃν δὲ χρὴ παθεῖν / οὐκ οἶδεν οὐδ᾽ ἤκουσεν ἐγγὺς λόγου.

λόγον: i.e. the spy’s report. λόγους (Δ) perhaps goes back to a scribe who thought of the following ‘deliberations’ (cf. Liapis on 140–2).

143–5a. ‘But if they are rushing off in flight and put to sea, listen out, expecting the trumpet to sound, since I shall not wait.’

ἐὰν δ᾽᾽ ἀπαίρωσ᾽ ἐς ϕυγὴν ὁρμώμενοι: Cf. 126 … κἂν (137–46n.). ἐς here goes with ὁρμώμενοι, as in e.g. Hdt. 7.179 προϊδόντες δὲ οὗτοι τὰς νέας τῶν ἐς ὥρμησαν, Thuc. 3.112.5, Xen. HG 5.3.2 and Tim. Pers. fr. 791.173–5 PMG = Hordern ὁ δὲ … ἐσ- / Βασιλεὺς εἰς ὁρ- / στρατόν.

σάλπιγγος αὐδὴν προσδοκῶν καραδόκει: so also Hector at 988–9a (n.) πανοὺς δ᾽ ἔχοντας μένειν Τυρσηνικῆς / αὐδήν. In tragedy the use of the σάλπιγξ to sound the charge or to call the Athenians to assembly (Eum. 567–70) is transferred to the Heroic Age, although Σ^AbT Il. 18.219 (IV 474.17–20, 475.36–7, 40–2 Erbse) and Σ^AGeT Il. 21.388 (V 216.30–217.35 Erbse) correctly observe that Homer does not grant his own knowledge of the instrument to his characters (West, Ancient Greek Music, 119; cf. P. Krentz, in V. D. Hanson [ed.], Hoplites: The Classical Greek Battle Experience, London – New York 1991, 113, 115–6).

rarely refers to ‘sounds other than the human voice’ (Liapis on 143–5). But the trumpet’s signal just replaces a verbal call to arms.

καραδόκει: ‘wait for’ (< κάρα + , ‘receive with outstretched head’?). The verb is frequent in Euripides (never Aeschylus or Sophocles), both in this neutral sense and with the extended notion of ‘waiting for the outcome of (e.g. a battle) before deciding how to proceed’ (LSJ s.v., Mastronarde on Med. 1117). The wording here resembles Med. 1116–17 ϕίλαι, πάλαι τοι προσμένουσα / καραδοκῶ and Hel. 739–40 ἐμοὺς / οἳ μένουσί μ᾽.

ὡς οὐ μενοῦντά μ᾽: For the accusative absolute with ‘subjective’ and the participle of a non-impersonal verb see KG II 95–6, SD 402–3. Unequivocal tragic parallels are rare: OT 100–1 ἀνδρηλατοῦντας, / λύοντας, χειμάζον πόλιν, Ion 964–5 σοὶ δ᾽ ἐς δόξ᾽ τέκνον; / – θεὸν γ᾽ γόνον, Phoen. 1461–2 ἐμόν, / οἳ δ᾽ ἐκεῖνον. S. El. 882 (with Finglass) and Phoen. 714 (with Mastronarde) allow other analyses, while OC 380–1 and Hcld. 693 are corrupt (Ll-J/W, Sophoclea, 227–9, Second Thoughts, 120–1,²⁸¹ Diggle, Euripidea, 225–6, Wilkins on Hcld. 693).

145b–6. Hector just expands on Aeneas at 127 (137–46n.).

προσμείξω: ‘I will go close up to (their slipways)’: Thuc. 3.22.1 προσέμειξαν πολεμίων, 7.70.2 ἐπειδὴ δὲ οἱ (LSJ s.v. II 3). Murray restored the classical -μείξ- for -μίξ- (LSJ s.v. A I [morphology], West, ed. Aeschylus, XLVIII, Threatte II, 623–4).

νεῶν / : similarly 673 (672b–3a n.) ναυστάθμων. The were channels or stone slips for drawing up or launching ships, not ‘windlasses’, as in LSJ s.v. I 1. Cf. Hdt. 2.154.5 δὲ χώρων ἐν δὴ οἵ νεῶν … μέχρι ἦσαν, 2.159.1, Thuc. 3.15.1 καὶ παρεσκεύαζον ἐν ἐκ Κορίνθου ἐς τὴν θάλασσαν, A. R. 1.375 ἐν δ᾽ ξεστὰς ϕάλαγγας, and see L. Casson, Ships and Seamanship in the Ancient World, Princeton ¹1971, Baltimore – London ²1995, 363–4. In Il. 2.153 the οὐροί (‘trenches, channels’) must be cleared out before the ships can be put to sea again.

ἐπ᾽ Ἀργείων στρατῷ: 56–8n. Both with dative (Δ) and with accusative (Λ) can be used ‘in hostile sense’ (LSJ s.v. B I 1 c, C I 4, KG I 503, 505, SD 468, 470), but the former is expected when the goal of motion has already been specified with νεῶν / ὁλκοῖσι.

147–8. νῦν γὰρ ἀσϕαλῶς ϕρονεῖς harks back to 132. Strohm (259) compares the rather more chilling Ba. 924 (Dionysus to Pentheus) … νῦν δ᾽ ὁρᾷς ἃ σ᾽ ὁρᾶν.

δ᾽᾽ ἔμ᾽: The implied contrast with Hector favours the emphatic pronoun (Bothe [II (1826), 90], Chr. Pat. 1932 pars codd.) over the enclitic δέ μ᾽ (Ω, Chr. Pat. 1932 codd. pler.). See Feickert on 148 and, for the use of the different forms in general, KG I 557, SD 186–7.

 

149–94. After Aeneas’ departure, Hector asks for a volunteer to spy on the Greeks (149–53). Dolon agrees on the condition that he be given a suitable reward (154–63). The following dialogue (164–83) reveals that Achilles’ horses are the object of his desire. Hector politely grants the wish, although he himself had set an eye on the splendid pair (184–94).

Together with 201–23 (n.) the scene dramatises Hector’s assembly in Il. 10.299–337. Several points and expressions have direct equivalents in the epic (149–50, 154–5, 156–7a, 186, 189b–90nn.), while at the same time our poet adapted the material to suit his own literary and theatrical needs (cf. Ritchie 67). Most importantly, Dolon himself here raises the subject of a reward (161–2a, 162b–3nn.). In that way, he gives a clearer impression of being driven by gain (although Hector admits that he is only demanding his due), and his request initiates the elaborate ‘guessing-game’ (below), which like a priamel leads up to his fantastic goal (182–3n.). Hector, by contrast, advertises the expedition as a patriotic service (151, 152–3nn.). This new motif – developed perhaps from Il. 10.421–2 γὰρ ἐπιτραπέουσι ϕυλάσσειν· / οὐ γάρ σϕιν παῖδες σχεδὸν εἵαται οὐδὲ (Strohm 259, 265)282 – helps to elevate not only his own status and that of the mission, but also Dolon’s compared to Iliad 10. Before we notice his mercenary streak, a natural ability for (as reflected in his name) and ‘love for his city’ replace mere swiftness (Il. 10.316 ποδώκης) as qualifications for the undertaking (158–9a n.). In addition, our poet has suppressed the potentially prejudicial fact that he was the only son among five sisters (Il. 10.317),²⁸³ while keeping allusions to his father’s nobility and wealth (159b–60, 169–70, 170, 178nn.). One wonders whether his ugliness (Il. 10.316) was represented by the mask (Jouan, XXIX).

Characterisation by way of Homeric reminiscence continues in the negotiations about the reward. They are modelled on the proxy exchange between Agamemnon and Achilles in Il. 9.115–61 / 225–306 / 308–429, where the latter is offered and rejects in turn gold (Rh. 169–70, 170, 178nn.), treasures (171–2n.), spoils (171–2, 179nn.), a royal bride (167– 8, 167nn.) and political power short of the king’s position (165–6n.). Both quarrel and contestants lack the Iliadic dimensions, but Hector shows himself a ‘better Agamemnon’ for being able to subordinate his desire for Achilles’ horses (184n.) to the benefit of Troy (M. Fantuzzi, in I luoghi, 260–1; cf. R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 [1996], 258).²⁸⁴ The ‘guessing-game’ itself is more familiar from comedy than extant tragedy (e.g. Ar. Ach. 414–31, Vesp. 71–88, Ran. 52–67) as a means of playing with the audience’s expectations and keeping them in suspense as to the actual result.²⁸⁵

The scene therefore serves a dual purpose. It has powerful stage-effects and offers a more balanced picture of Hector and Dolon than Il. 10.299–337. They are not equals (167–8n.), but neither is Dolon wholly debased, nor does Hector live up to his Homeric self. The comparison with Iliad 9 also reduces to proportion the Trojan aspirations for that night. A scouting mission will not win the war, and Dolon in particular overrates himself.

Two questions of stagecraft are of interest here: 1. Where does Dolon come from? and 2. Does Hector stay or leave after 194?

 

The first can confidently be answered in favour of an entry by an eisodos. To have Dolon present already as part of Hector’s silent retinue would lead to a procedure unparalleled in Greek drama (Ritchie 113–14; cf. J. P. Poe, Philologus 148 [2004], 26). ‘Minor characters do not step out of their anonymity just like that, as it were, in order to become a well-defined dramatis persona for one short scene’ (Kannicht on Hel. 1621–41 [p. 423]). In Helen this is one of several arguments against the introduction of a male servant instead of the chorus-leader (L) to bar Theoclymenus’ way into the palace (1626–41), and Danaus in A. Suppl. 1–176, Cassandra in Ag. 810–1072 and Alcestis’ son in Alc. 233–393, all of whom could have been identified before they are named or speak, do not support such a practice either (contrary to Liapis on 154 ff.; cf. S. Perris, G&R 59 [2012], 157–8).

A conventional side-entry, by contrast, presents no serious problems. Hector’s words can easily be imagined to reach the backstage area, which to the audience’s right represents the Trojan camp (Ritchie 114– 15). His initial appeal at 149–50 (n.) ἐν λόγῳ / θέλει … μολεῖν; resembles that of Apollo for help with searching his stolen cattle at S. fr. 314.39–40 (Ichneutae) / μαριλοκαυ]τῶν ἐν λόγῳ παρ[ίσταται (suppl. Diggle, Wilamowitz).286 After four more lines Silenus, followed by the satyr-chorus (63), bursts in. Similarly, Hector’s repetitions here may partly be designed to give Dolon time to arrive. Even for slower eisodos entries five to seven lines seem to have sufficed, if the newcomer was already becoming visible during the call and spoke his first words before reaching centre-stage. Note HF 514–19 (with Bond), Hyps. fr. 60 i.16–21 Bond = E. fr. 757.847–52 and Ar. Ach. 566–72 (with Olson, lxix). There remains the slight peculiarity of an entry just after another major character (i.e. Aeneas) exited within the same epeisodion. Poe (Philologus 148 [2004], 30) compares Ai. 989 / 1047, Phil. 1260 / 1263 and Or. 716 / 729,²⁸⁷ the last two in late-fifth-century plays and with equally few intervening lines. Our poet also used the device for Paris’ surprise appearance at 642 (595–641n.; cf. O. P. Taplin, GRBS 12 [1971], 41–2 n. 38).

With 190 Hector falls silent until he is addressed by the Shepherd in 264. The text gives no sign of a departure (J. P. Poe, Philologus 148 [2004], 27–8) and, unlike at 526, he has no off-stage business to attend to. From a dramaturgical perspective it is also desirable that he should stay. All messages and arrivals in Rhesus are directed at Hector’s εὐναί, except that, for good or ill, he misses the first three in the second half (Strohm 264–5, 269–70). This long-term contrast would be spoilt if after an unmotivated exit he had to return just in time to hear the news of Rhesus’ approach. That simultaneous entries from different directions are rare and usually better accounted for (Taplin, Stagecraft, 148–9, 177 with n. 1) is perhaps less relevant in an author who with the alternative solution too seems to have sacrificed convention to theatrical effect.

For Hector’s long silence Ritchie (117) adduces Hcld. 720–83 (Alcmena), E. Suppl. 381–512 + 513b–733 (Adrastus), HF 252–331 (Lycus), 1214–1404 (Amphitryon) and Phoen. 1356–1583 (Creon). The first bears some resemblance to our case as Alcmena watches the ancient Iolaus being led into battle (720–47), remains for the choral song (748–83) and then immediately receives the Messenger from the field (784–891). But only Phoen. 1356–1583 is similarly ill-rooted in the dramatic action. Creon fades into complete oblivion while the Messenger gives his report to the chorus and Antigone and Oedipus sing their lament. It is likely therefore that his presence in 1308–1581 (at least) was interpolated by someone able to tolerate the formal awkwardness for the pathos of bringing Menoeceus’ grieving father on stage (Fraenkel, Zu den Phoenissen, 71–86).²⁸⁸ If a fourth-century audience was more indulgent in this respect, our poet may have had his choice. Hector momentarily recedes to the margin so as to be in place when required again. The little choral strophe in 195–200 probably helped to structure the rearrangement of characters in the acting space (cf. Taplin, Stagecraft, 52–3).

 

149–53. Our poet has reduced Il. 10.303–12 to the simple question for a volunteer (149–94n.). Hector’s threefold repetition (with anaphoric τίς) and the growing impatience he betrays in 152–3 (n.) perhaps mirror the Trojans’ reserve at Il. 10.313 ὣς ἐγένοντο (Ritchie 67). The lines also cover (part of) Dolon’s way onto stage (149–94n. [p. 175]).

149–50. Hector’s initial appeal corresponds almost exactly to Il. 10.303 κέν μοι τόδε + 307–8 ὅς κε … / νηῶν σχεδὸν ἐλθέμεν ἔκ πυθέσθαι. And as in Il. 10.319–20 Ἕκτορ, ἔμ᾽ κραδίη καὶ / σχεδὸν ἐλθέμεν ἔκ πυθέσθαι, the central words are resumed by Dolon in 154–5 (n.).

τίς δῆτα: For this use of see GP 270. The particle ‘denotes that the question springs out of something which another person (or, more rarely, the speaker himself) has just said’ (GP 269).

οἳ πάρεισιν ἐν λόγῳ: ‘who are at hand to hear my words’, as at S. fr. 314.39–40 (cited in 149–94n. [p. 175]), Ar. Ach. 513 … γὰρ οἱ ἐν λόγῳ, Av. 30 … οἱ ἐν (LSJ Suppl. [1996] s.v. λόγος VI 3 a) and, similarly, Rh. 641 (640–1n.) … ἐγγὺς ὢν λόγου. The parallels support (ΔQ) against (LQ^1s) and by their distribution suggest that the idiom has colloquial roots (A. Meschini, in Scritti Diano, 217). Confusion of and , found in the reverse sense in 682 (n.), was particularly easy in the context here, and with Hector’s unit already mentioned in 26.

κατόπτης: 631–2n.

ναῦς ἔπ᾽ Ἀργείων μολεῖν: Cf. 155, 221, 589 and, with different verbs, 203 … ναῦς Ἀργείων πόδα, 502 … ναῦς Ἀργείων ϕέρει. The juncture comes from Tro. 954 ( …) οἴκους ναῦς (~ Andr. 401 αὐτὴ δὲ ναῦς ἔβην) and could, in Rhesus at least, be an attempt to reproduce the Iliadic (θοὰς / κοίλας) ἐπὶ (cf. Fenik, Iliad X, 27–8 n. 1).

151. τῆσδε γῆς εὐεργέτης: The patriotic motivation to the spying mission is new (149–94n.) and much invoked in the course of this scene (152–3, 154–5, 157b, 158–9a, 230b, 242–4a nn.). Of the dramatists, Euripides was especially fond of / -ις and εὐεργετέω.

152–3. Apart from giving Dolon time to appear (149–94, 149–53nn.), Hector’s outburst at the lack of volunteers characterises him again as hot-tempered and prone to ill-conceived responses (as if he was expected to go reconnoitring himself!). He remains a long way from the heroic leader of the Iliad.

πόλει πατρῴᾳ συμμάχοις θ᾽᾽ ὑπηρετεῖν: 149–94, 151nn.

154–5. ‘I am willing to run this risk for our land and to go as a spy to the Argive ships.’

ἐγὼ … θέλω / … κατόπτης ναῦς ἔπ᾽ Ἀργείων μολεῖν: 149–50n. The repetition and choice of words imitate epic formular style. For see 631–2nn.

πρὸ γαίας: likewise Ion 278 and E. fr. 360.39 (of human sacrifice). Dolon soon abandons patriotism and openly asks for a ‘worthy reward’.

τόνδε κίνδυνον … / ῥίψας: a dicing metaphor (cf. Σ^V Rh. 155 [II 331.17–18 Schwartz = 85 Merro] προκινδυνεύσας. μεταϕορά and e.g. Phryn. PS 29.1–2 de Borries, Phot. κ 733 Theodoridis),²⁸⁹ as also in 183 (182–3n.) ἐν and 445b–6 (n.) … δ᾽ ἡμέρας / Ἀργείους Ἄρη. The formulation here has equivalents in Hcld. 148–9 κίνδυνον ἀμηχάνων / ῥίπτοντες, E. fr. 402.6–7 κίνδυνον μέγαν / and Xen. Mem. 1.3.9 … ῥιψοκινδύνων. Similarly, Sept. [1028] κἀνὰ κίνδυνον βαλῶ. Prose authors seem to prefer (LSJ s.v. II).

156–7a. Dolon’s confidence resembles Il. 10.324–7 σοὶ δ᾽ ἐγὼ οὐχ ἔσσομαι οὐδ᾽ δόξης· / γὰρ ἐς εἶμι διαμπερές, ἂν / Ἀγαμεμνονέην, ὅθι μέλλουσιν / βουλεύειν, ἢ (~ Il. 10.307–12), although the phrasing is closer to Il. 10.211–12 (Nestor) καὶ εἰς / ἀσκηθής.

157b. ‘It is on these conditions that I take upon myself this task.’

᾽πὶ τούτοις sums up Dolon’s part of the promise (i.e. that he will undertake the expedition for his land and not return until he has learnt all he can) and thus ‘already establishes the basis for a contract’ (Jouan 61 n. 39). This notion is lost if, with Liapis (on 156–7), we take ἐπί as an indication ‘of an end or purpose’ (LSJ s.v. B III 2).

ὑϕίσταμαι πόνον: In a different martial context cf. E. Suppl. 188–9 δὲ σή / δύναιτ᾽ ἂν τόνδ᾽ ὑποστῆναι πόνον and 344–5 ὅθ᾽ … / κελεύεις τόνδ᾽ ὑποστῆναι πόνον.

158–9a. ‘You are well named indeed, and you love your city, Dolon.’

Hector’s etymological pun is an unusual way of identifying a new character who has not been named. ‘Dolon’ implies δόλος, which not only makes him an ideal choice as a spy, but also suggests that he was at some point invented for that role (cf. Hainsworth on Il. 10.314, Rh. 201–23n.). On the ancient belief that a name reflects, or should reflect, the nature of its bearer see Dodds on Ba. 367, M. Griffith, HSPh 82 (1978), 84 n. 5 and on PV 85–6, Garvie on Pers. 65–72.

ἐπώνυμος μὲν κάρτα adapts Sept. 658 δὲ κάρτα, (~ Eum. 90 … κάρτα δ᾽ ὢν ἐπώνυμος). But the expression is typical of name-etymologies from Homer on (LSJ s.v. ἐπώνυμος I 1). In tragedy see also e.g. Sept. 405, 829–31, A. Suppl. 45–8 (νῦν δ᾽ ἐπικεκλομένα …) δ᾽ ἐπεκραίνετο μόρσιμος / δ᾽ ἐγέννασεν (with FJW on 45 [II, pp. 43–5]), PV 848–51, Ai. 430–1, S. fr. 965, Phoen. 636–7, E. fr. 696.11–13. The practice became something of a mannerism – to the point that it attracted comic parody: Ar. Ran. 1192, frr. 342 PCG (~ E. fr. 182), 373 PCG (~ IT 32–3) and perhaps Anaxil. fr. 35 PCG (Rau, Paratragodia, 210–11, Kannicht on Hel. 13–5).

κάρτα (79n.) emphasises the appropriateness of the etymology, as do words like ὀρθῶς, and εὐλόγως elsewhere (W. Headlam, On Editing Aeschylus. A Criticism, London 1891, 140–3, Diggle on Phaeth. 225 [p. 146], Collard on E. Suppl. 496–7a).

ϕιλόπτολις: See 149–94, 151nn. and, on ϕιλόπ(τ)ολις as a fifth- and fourth-century term of praise, Liapis on 158–60.

Epic -πτολις stands metri causa, always in the nominative or accusative singular, and in iambo-trochaic dialogue at the end of the line. The same applies to πτόλις, which does not occur in Sophocles (Page on Med. 641, FJW on A. Suppl. 699).

159b–60. Dolon’s reputable descent comes from Il. 10.314–15 (~ 378–81), where he is the son of the wealthy herald Eumedes. It would have been pointless to hint at the less favourable details (149–94n.), although our poet lowered the ‘Homeric’ standard (Il. 10.212–13, 307) by having Hector promise enhanced εὔκλεια for volunteering alone. At 197 the chorus more adequately speak of a … εὐκλεής.

δὶς τόσως … εὐκλεέστερον: ‘twice as glorious’. Cf. Rh. 281 ἔγνως· δὲ μ᾽ ἐκούϕισας, 757b (n.) … καίτοι κακὸν and especially Med. 1193–4 πῦρ δ᾽ … / … μᾶλλον δὶς τόσως ἐλάμπετο (with Mastronarde on 1194). Unlike Aeschylus, Euripides ap (with Mastronarde on 1194). Unlike Aeschylus, Euripides appears to have avoided using τόσος or τόσως without δίς (cf. Cyc. 147, Med. 1047, 1134, Hcld. 293, Hec. 392, El. 1092, fr. 995).²⁹⁰ This may also be true of Sophocles’ trimeters, if one can tell from a single instance (Ai. 277 δὶς τόσ᾽ … κακά) as against one other in lyrics (Ai. 184 τόσσον).

161–2a. ‘Well, ought one not to undertake a task and in undertaking it win a worthy reward?’

As Dolon is best seen to move from the general to the specific, the expression should not personally be referred to him with (OΛgVgB, Chr. Pat. 1964) for μέν (V). The syntax resembles IT 810 οὔκουν μὲν σέ, μανθάνειν δ᾽ ἐμέ; and Phoen. 979 οὔκουν σὲ ϕράζειν εἰκός, δ᾽ ἐμέ;

οὔκουν: Denniston (GP 436). The MSS have as introducing a statement (‘surely, then …’), which does not readily follow the previous sentence and, in any case, is too tame for Dolon here. Between interrogative and οὔκουν, the latter is livelier and, with a few exceptions, perhaps to be restored in drama thoughout (GP 430–6). Likewise 481, 543, 585, 633.

ἄξιον / μισθὸν ϕέρεσθαι: Cf. Il. 10.304 (Hector speaking) οἱ ἄρκιος ἔσται and Rh. 182 (Dolon) χρὴ δ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἀξίοις πονεῖν.

162b–3. ‘For the profit attached to every action doubles (literally 162b-3. ‘For the profit attached to every action doubles (literally ‘generates as double’) the satisfaction.’

This is how most scholars understand the text. Dolon accepts εὔκλεια as one benefit to be gained from the spying expedition, but, as becomes clear in 182–3 (n.), he really just wants a material reward. His mercenary attitude and desire for the biggest possible gift tell against Palmer (CR 4 [1890], 229), Porter (on 163) and Pearson (CQ 11 [1917], 57–8), who see here an appeal for mutual recognition and translate χάριν with ‘favour’. Yet Pearson correctly noted the linguistic similarity to passages like Ai. 522 χάρις χάριν γάρ ἐστιν τίκτουσ᾽ ἀεί, OT 231–2 τὸ γάρ / κέρδος χάρις and OC 1483–4 μηδ᾽ ἄνδρ᾽ ἰδὼν / ἀκερδῆ χάριν μετάσχοιμί πως. Perhaps our poet was inspired by such topical formulations and used them to somewhat startling effect. Or he genuinely wished Dolon to sound ambiguous in an attempt to win Hector to his course.²⁹¹

τίκτει: Apart from Ai. 522 (above), cf. Sept. 437 καὶ τῷδε κέρδος τίκτεται.

164. κοὐκ ἄλλως λέγω: ‘… and I do not deny it’. Cf. Rh. 271 … οὐκ λέγω, Hec. 302, E. El. 1035, Hel. 1106, Or. 709 and also Sept. 490 … οὐκ ἄλλως ἐρῶ, E. El. 226 … καὶ τάχ᾽ οὐκ ἄλλως ἐρεῖς. Euripides’ predilection for this phrase is reflected in Ar. Ran. 1140 (‘Aeschylus’ to ‘Euripides’) … οὐκ (Ritchie 206–7, who adds Ar. Eccl. 440 … δὲ ἄλλως λέγει;). Cf. Introduction, 30 n. 36.

The parallels tell against Nauck’s … κοὐκ (II¹ [1854], XXII), for which he relied on Chr. Pat. 1620 ναὶ δίκαιον τοῦτο, κοὐκ and 1968 … κοὐκ .²⁹² Hector should utter a strong affirmation, not politely agree with his interlocutor (‘Yes … and your words are not beside the point’). Likewise 271 (λέγω O: VΛ).

165–6. Hector instantly excludes the (unrealistic) prize of his royal power (3 8 8–9n.).²⁹³ In the negotiations of Il. 9.121–61 / 260–99 / 378–92 (cf. 149–94n.), Agamemnon finally offers Achilles a provincial kingdom (Il. 9.149–56) before admonishing him to respect his higher rank (160–1). Odysseus wisely omits this condition (291–9), although Achilles exploits the point in rejecting a princess bride: Il. 9.388–92 ~ Rh. 168 (167–8n.). Cf. R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 (1996), 257–8.

165. δέ: for οὖν or (GP 170), as in Ba. 1118–20 τοι, μῆτερ, εἰμί, σέθεν / … / οἴκτιρε με.

πλὴν ἐμῆς τυραννίδος: Nauck (II¹ [1854], XXII ~ Euripideische Studien II, 170) offered πλὴν τυραννίδα on the analogy of 173 … δ᾽ αἴτει πλὴν στρατηλάτας νεῶν. But there the accusative is more natural as ‘the implied object of (Liapis, ‘Notes’, 55). And we need not avoid the repetition with τυραννίδος in 166.

166. οὐ σῆς ἐρῶμεν … τυραννίδος: For the wording cf. Archil. fr. 19.3 IEG … μεγάλης δ᾽ οὐκ ἐρέω τυραννίδος. See also 132n.

: ‘… which guards the city’. The adjective recurs in 821 (Chorus to Hector) ἐμοὶ μέγας (Vater: πολιοῦχον Ω), where it retains part of its association with tutelary deities (821–3n.). Here this notion is uniquely transferred to the abstract τυραννίς. Feickert (on 166) suspects an allusion to Hector’s name, which since antiquity has been connected with ἔχω, ‘hold, rule, keep safe’ (von Kamptz, Homerische Personennamen, 26, 171, 261–2, Wathelet, Dictionnaire des Troyens I, 472, II, 1304–5). Cf. Pl. Crat. 393a1–b6 and the play on Athena at Ar. Thesm. 1136–41 … 1140 ἔχει / καὶ κράτος μόνη.

Outside Rhesus, the form for (here V: L) is attested in Pi. Dith. 4 fr. 70d.38–9 Sn.–M. [καὶ Γλαυ- / and Inscr. Cret. 4.171.14 (III BC). On and as proper names see LGPN II s.vv. and G. Pace, QUCC n.s. 65 (2000), 131 n. 19.

167–8. At Il. 9.141–8 ~ 283–90 Agamemnon promises Achilles one of his three daughters in wedlock, but the latter refuses with the deeply ironic suggestion that Agamemnon look for someone ‘more princely’ (βασιλεύτερος) than himself: Il. 9.388–92. The idea that one should not marry above one’s station is a commonplace for both men and women (e.g. Alcm. fr. 1.16–17 PMGF, Pi. Pyth. 2.34–6, PV 887–93, S. fr. 353, E. El. 930–7, E. frr. 214, 502) and gives Dolon an elegant excuse to reject Hector’s offer (Feickert on 168). In 197–8 (n.) the chorus will doubt the wisdom of demanding Achilles’ horses instead.

167. ‘Well then, marry and become related to Priam’s family.’

σὺ δ᾽ ἀλλά opens a fresh proposal (of equal merit). Formally, δ᾽ ‘is always followed by an imperative … and nearly always preceded by σύ’ (GP 10).

Πριαμιδῶν γαμβρὸς γενοῦ: Cf. Il. 9.142 (Agamemnon speaking) κέν μοι ἔοι and 284 (Odysseus) κέν οἱ ἔοις (167–8n.). In our passage need not mean more than ‘relative by marriage’ (Liapis on 167).

168. ἐξ ἐμαυτοῦ μειζόνων γαμεῖν: ‘to take a wife of nobler stock than myself’. Cf. Thgn. 189–90 καὶ ἐκ κακοῦ / καὶ κακὸς ἐξ ἀγαθοῦ and especially Andr. 1279 οὐ ἔκ ,²⁹⁴ Xen. Hier. 1.28 … ἐκ (LSJ s.v. I 1). With or also e.g. Hcld. [299], Andr. 974–5, Or. 1676–7, Pl. Plt. 310c 10.

169–70. ‘Ten talents of gold’ are among the treasures that Agamemnon initially offers to give Achilles: Il. 9.122b, 126 = 264b, 268 (cf. Il. 19.247). In his response to Odysseus, the hero summarily dismisses all material gifts (Il. 9.378–87) and insinuates that he and his family themselves are rich (Il. 9.364–7, 400). On the wealth of Dolon’s father see 149–94, 159b–60, 170nn.

169. χρυσὸς πάρεστιν (Δ) must be read. Λ’s χρυσὸς γὰρ ἔστιν arose by confusion of Π and Γ, and Zanetto is wrong to take it as lectio difficilior on the assumption that with γάρ Hector expresses his assent: ‘Yes, you are right to refuse to marry above your station; but if you want gold, you only need to ask for it’ (Ciclope, Reso, 140 n. 22). If we render the paradosis by Denniston’s simple ‘Not, for … ’ (GP 73–4), the lack of connection with Dolon’s statement becomes obvious.

εἰ τόδ᾽᾽ αἰτήσεις γέρας: similarly 181 τί μεῖζον τῶνδέ μ᾽ γέρας;

170. ἀλλ᾽ ἔστ᾽ ἐν οἴκοις: ‘No, I have gold at home’, with simply expressing opposition (GP 7). For the fact cf. Il. 10.378–9 ἔστι γὰρ ἔνδον / τε χρυσός τε τε σίδηρος and for the language Rh. 178 ἔστι χρυσὸς ἐν δόμοις.

οὐ βίου σπανίζομεν: The expression is ordinary Greek (e.g. Hdt. 1.196.5), but may here have a Euripidean ring: E. Suppl. 240 οἱ δ᾽ … βίου, El. 235 τοῦ βίου; E. fr. 285.11–12, Hec. 11–12 ἵν᾽ … / βίου. In other tragedy only OT 1460–1 ἄνδρες εἰσίν, ὥστε μὴ / σχεῖν … τοῦ βίου. The words σπάνις, and are on the whole much rarer (or non-existent) in Aeschylus and Sophocles than in Euripides.

is the first of several instances of the vitium Byzantinum in that MS (Introduction 49 n. 7).

171–2. Hector’s new question perhaps corresponds to the other valuables (tripods, cauldrons, prize-winning horses) Agamemnon has in store for Achilles (Il. 9.122a, 123–4 = 264a, 265–6). In Agamemnon’s speech this is followed by the promise of spoils (Il. 9.135–40 ~ 277–82), a topic which Dolon himself raises as the first explicit step to his desired reward (149–94n.).

171. τί δῆτα: 149–50n.

ὧν κέκευθεν presumably echoes Il. 22.118 … ὅσα τε κέκευθεν, where Hector considers surrendering Helen, the goods Paris stole and half of Troy’s wealth (~ Il. 18.511–12). (OQ), not (VL), is the preferred tragic form, except in the epicising Andr. 103 (LSJ s.v. I, Diggle, Euripidea, 324 n. 9). For κέκευθε(ν) see also 620b–1n.

172. ξυναίνεσον: ‘promise, grant’. Cf. Ag. 483–4 γυναικὸς αἰχμᾷ / χάριν ξυναινέσαι (with Fraenkel on 484), Xen. An. 7.7.31 οἱ δὲ διὰ τὸ δεῖσθαι στρατιᾶς αὐτοῖς ταῦτα, Cyr. 8.5.20 (LSJ s.v. συναινέω 2). Our passage provides a particularly good example of how the basic meaning of the verb, ‘agree with, consent’ (LSJ s.v. 1), develops when the action responds to a request (H. L. Ahrens, Philologus Suppl. 1 [1860], 532).

173. στρατηλάτας νεῶν: 165n. Here πάντα is omitted as an ‘antecedent’ to πλήν, as in e.g. OT 118 θνῄσκουσι γάρ, πλὴν εἷς τις and 369–70 (Τε.) τί γ᾽ ἐστὶ τῆς σθένος. / (Οι.) ἔστι, σοί. The Greek commanders could fetch enormous ransoms: 177 (n.).

174. ‘Kill them. I do not demand that you keep your hand off Menelaus. ’

Dolon may understand Hector’s motive to be primarily vengeance, but given his aim, the reply looks more like another rejection of conventional wealth. Thus at 176 (n.) he cannot seriously believe that high-ranking captives should work the fields.

Both syntax and verse-rhythm recall E. Suppl. 385 σ᾽ χάριν νεκρούς.

Μενέλεω σχέσθαι χέρα: For metrical reasons the simplex replaces in this common phrase (Od. 22.316 μοι οὐ πείθοντο χεῖρας ἔχεσθαι, Emp. 31 B 141 DK, A. Suppl. 755–6 οὐ … / … χεῖρ᾽ ἀπόσχωνται, πάτερ, Eum. 350, Antiph. fr. 27.16 PCG, Crates Com. fr. 19.2 PCG, Pl. Smp. 213d3–4, 214d3–4). χέρα (Δ), rather than χέρας (Λ), connotes a powerful martial blow.

175. οὐ μήν (‘Surely … not … ?’) ‘introduces, tentatively and half incredulously, an alternative suggestion’ (GP 334). Likewise Alc. 518 οὐ γ᾽ ὄλωλεν Ἄλκηστις σέθεν;

τὸν παῖδα: the ‘lesser’ Ajax. (V: O) is preferable to (Λ ὀϊλ-). Diggle, among recent editors, followed by Kovacs and (for Rhesus) Jouan, adopts the latter both here and at IA 193 and 263 (ὀϊλ- L). But the contraction of Homeric Ὀῑλ- (< -) into Οἰλ- is odd and significantly perhaps not attested by our MSS. As in Pi. Ol. 9.112 Αἶαν … (v.l. ὀϊλ-), their epicising and unmetrical Ὀϊλέως is the likely response of scribes not familiar with the form in (also < ). This further occurs in the Iliou Persis (Arg. p. 146 (1) GEF),²⁹⁵ ‘Hes.’ fr. 235.1 M.–W., Stes. fr. 226 PMGF and Lyc. 1150 and probably gained some currency in pre-Aristarchean Iliadic texts (cf. Nickau, Zenodotos, 36–42). The tragedians then had ample precedent for a variant of cretic or spondaic shape and no need to create one of their own. Fantuzzi (CPh 100 [2005], 272–3) is inconsistent when he defends here, but does not equally strongly support the conjecture by England and Wilamowitz (GV 283 n. 1) at IA 193 and 263.

ἐξαιτεῖς: OΛ. Most editors adopt ἐξαιτῇ (V), which they take to mean ‘demand / ask for yourself ’ (LSJ s.v. ἐξαιτέω II 1). Yet there are no parallels for this sense with an infinitive construction, as opposed to the more urgent and humble ‘beg, implore’ (Med. 969–71 ἀλλ᾽, … / πατρὸς νέαν γυναῖκα … / ἱκετεύετ᾽, ἐξαιτεῖσθε μὴ ϕεύγειν χθόνα, Hec. 49–50, Ba. 360–3). For the active cf. OT 1255–7 ϕοιτᾷ γὰρ ἡμᾶς ἔγχος ἐξαιτῶν πορεῖν, / γυναῖκά τ᾽ οὐ γυναῖκα, μητρῴαν δ᾽ ὅπου / κίχοι διπλῆν ἄρουραν καὶ τέκνων.

176. The verse recalls 74–5, where the question of ransom (173, 174, 177nn.) did not occur. Its plain, sententious style also contrasts with Hector’s elaborate threat.

γεωργεῖν is the prose alternative to γαπονεῖν (75). In drama γεωργός appears at A. fr. 46a.18 (ascribed to the satyr-play Diktyoulkoi), and γεωργέω at Ar. Lys. 1173, Eccl. 592, 651 and Ar. fr. 102.1 PCG. See Björck, Alpha Impurum, 115, 330–1.

χεῖρες εὖ τεθραμμέναι: The participial attribute is a set expression, which also belongs to everyday speech: E. El. 64–5 τί γὰρ τάδ᾽ … ἐμὴν μοχθέω χάριν / ἔχουσα, πρόσθεν εὖ τεθραμμένη, E. fr. 111.2–3, Diod. Com. 3.3–4 PCG (both gnomic), Pl. Rep. 496b2, D. S. 3.43.1, Apollon. Lex. Hom. 79.13 Bekker εὐπηγέες· εὖ τεθραμμένοι.

177. ‘Which of the Achaeans then do you want to hold to ransom alive?’

ζῶντ᾽᾽ ἀποινᾶσθαι: The correct word-division is preserved in O (ζῶντ᾽ ἀποίνασθαι [sic]) and implied in the explanations of Σ^V Rh. 177 (II 331.3–5 Schwartz = 85 Merro) ἄποινα λέγεται τὰ … τίνα οὖν, ϕησί, τῶν Ἀχαιῶν λύτρα λαβὼν βούλει ἀπολῦσαι and Σ^L Rh. 177 (II 331.30 Schwartz = 86 Merro) ἢ ἀπεμπολεῖν. The middle ἀποινάομαι from ἀποινάω, ‘release for a ransom’ (Hsch. α 6362 Latte ἀποινᾶν· ἀπολυτροῦν),²⁹⁶ is attested only here and at 464–6 (n.) τόδε γ᾽ ἦμαρ / … πολυϕόνου / χειρὸς ἀποινάσαιο λόγχᾳ (fere codd.), where both metre and sense betray corruption and Diggle (Euripidea, 515–17) ingeniously wrote … ἄποιν᾽ ἄροιο σᾷ λόγχᾳ. Yet given the present context and the frequency of ἄποινα in Homer (Iliad only), it seems strange that ζῶντα ποινᾶσθαι gained such ground in the other MSS and scholia (cf. especially Σ^L Rh. 177 [II 331.30 Schwartz = 86 Merro] ἀντὶ τοῦ τιμωρεῖσθαι).²⁹⁷

At Il. 24.686–7 Hermes states that Priam’s life would be worth three times the amount he gave for Hector’s body. Fighting heroes (and spies) are not spared for ransom on the Iliadic battlefield (Pritchett, GSW V, 246).

178. καὶ πρόσθεν εἶπον: For the syntax cf. A. Suppl. 398–9 εἶπον δὲ καὶ πρίν, οὐκ ἄνευ δήμου τάδε / πράξαιμ᾽ ἄν (with FJW on 389), and for the tone and words OC 932–3 εἶπον μὲν οὖν καὶ πρόσθεν, ἐννέπω δὲ νῦν, / τὰς παῖδας ὡς τάχιστα δεῦρ᾽ ἄγειν τινά. The parataxis makes Dolon sound all the more impatient.

ἔστι χρυσὸς ἐν δόμοις: 169–70, 170nn. The verse ends like Med. 542 εἴη δ᾽ ἔμοιγε μήτε χρυσὸς ἐν δόμοις.

179–80. This new exchange shows significant overlaps with Ag. 577–9 Τροίαν ἑλόντες Ἀργείων στόλος / θεοῖς λάϕυρα ταῦτα τοῖς καθ᾽ Ἑλλάδα / δόμοις ἐπασσάλευσαν ἀρχαῖον γάνος (Fraenkel, Rev. 232). The practice of hanging up enemy arms and armour in temples is often referred to in poetry: e.g. Il. 7.82–3, Sept. 277–8, Hcld. 695–9, Andr. 1121–2, E. El. 6–7, 1000–1, Tro. 573–6, Hdt. 5.95.1–2 (= Alc. fr. 401B b, test. 467 Voigt). Cf. Pritchett, GSW III, 277–95, V, 132–3 and Liapis on 180 (with further literature).

179. καὶ μὴν … γ᾽᾽ marks the transition to a new point (GP 351–2). With μήν Hector asserts the truth of his proposition, which he may reasonably believe to counter Dolon’s expectations. See below (παρών) and in general G. Wakker, in NAGP, 209–31 (especially 213–16, 226–7, 229–30).

λαϕύρων: The distinction of Hsch. λ 440 Latte (~ Phot. λ 121 Theodoridis, Suda λ 158 Adler) between λάϕυρα as ‘what is taken from the enemy when still alive’ and as ‘spoils from the dead’ (cf. 591–3, 619–20a nn.) is largely confirmed by Pritchett (GSW I, 54–8, V, 132–47). Outside tragedy (Sept. 278, 479, Ag. 578, Ai. 93, Tr. 645, HF 417, Tro. 1124) the word has one mid-fifth-century attestation in the Argive inscription SIG 56.9 = 42B.9 Meiggs–Lewis ϕαλύρōν (sic).

παρών emphasises αὐτός and the fact that Dolon is offered the privilege of choosing ‘in person’ his part of the spoils (cf. 141–2n.). Similarly Agamemnon to Achilles at Il. 9.139 (~ 281) Τρωϊάδας δὲ γυναῖκας ἐείκοσιν αὐτὸς ἑλέσθω.

180. θεοῖσιν … πασσάλευε πρὸς δόμοις: Fraenkel (on Ag. 579) notes that ‘this is a less harsh expression than’ the double dative at Ag. 578–9 θεοῖς … / δόμοις (cf. 179–80n.). Here δόμοις (QL^1s) is lectio difficilior to δόμους (ΔL) and further protected by PV 56 … πασσάλευε πρὸς πέτραις. The error has numerous parallels in our MSS (FJW on A. Suppl. 793 [III, pp. 142–3]).

181. τί δῆτα: 149–50n.

αἰτήσεις γέρας: 169n.

182–3. ‘The horses of Achilles. For one must work for a worthy reward, if one hazards one’s life in fortune’s game of dice.’

Dolon’s final revelation comes as a surprise, despite (or because of?) the extended build-up compared to his prompt request at Il. 10.321–3 ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε μοι τὸ σκῆπτρον ἀνάσχεο καί μοι ὄμοσσον, / ἦ μὲν τοὺς τε καὶ ἅρματα ποικίλα χαλκῷ / δωσέμεν, οἳ ϕορέουσιν Πηλείωνα. By reminding Hector of the risks and the need for ‘a worthy reward’ (154–5, 161–3), he confirms his materialistic approach to the task.

ἵππους Ἀχιλλέως stands out for its initial position, followed by metrical and syntactical pause.

δ᾽᾽: 132n.

προβάλλοντ᾽᾽ ἐν κύβοισι δαίμονος: This hardly reaches the grandeur of 11. 9.322 (Achilles) πολεμίζειν. With προβάλλω cf. OT 744–5 ἔοικ᾽ ἐμαυτὸν εἰς ἀράς / δεινὰς προβάλλων ἀρτίως οὐκ εἰδέναι.

ἐν κύβοισι δαίμονος: While Greek commonly uses dicing metaphors for the uncertainties of luck and chance, their frequency in Rhesus (154–5n.) may reflect the sense that this was a favourite soldiers’ game (Klyve on 183). For the gods throwing dice on human affairs cf. Sept. 414 ἔργον δ᾽ ἐν κύβοις Ἄρης κρινεῖ (also in a military setting), S. fr. 895 ἀεὶ γὰρ εὖ πίπτουσιν οἱ Διὸς κύβοι and HF 1227–8 ὅστις εὐγενὴς βροτῶν / ϕέρει τῶν θεῶν πτώματ᾽ οὐδ᾽ ἀναίνεται (with Wilamowitz and Bond on 1228).

184. ‘Ah, but you are my rival in desire for the horses.’

At Il. 17.485–90 Hector declares his longing for Achilles’ steeds, shortly after Apollo had rebuked him for pursuing this aim (17.75–81) and we learnt from Zeus that they were not his to possess (17.448–50). By introducing the motif here, our poet not only suggests that Dolon has overreached himself, but also reveals in Hector a touch of greed. The audience is supposed to remember this when in 859–60 he has to defend himself against the charge of having killed Rhesus ἵππων ἐρασθείς (839). See 833–81n.

καὶ μὴν … : In statements that raise an objection to the last speaker’s words καὶ μὴν (… γε) acquires an adversative force (Jebb on Ai. 531, GP 357–8, G. Wakker, in NAGP, 217–18, 224–5). So also 492–3 and 574–5.

ἐρῶντι … ἀντερᾷς: The juxtaposition of simple and compound verb underlines the almost erotic competition for Achilles’ horses. For the figure of speech and syntax here cf. Alc. 1103 νικῶντι μέντοι καὶ σὺ συννικᾷς ἐμοί (Ritchie 241). Also Liapis on 184 (with further references).

In the sense ‘rival in love’ (as against ‘love in return’) ἀντεράω / -έραμαι is not attested again until Plutarch (Lyc. 18.4, De soll. an. 18 972d) and Lucian (Musc. Enc. 10). But ἀντεραστής occurs in e.g. Ar. Eq. 733, Xen. Cyn. 1.7, Pl. Rep. 521b5, Men. Sam. 26.

185–8. As already seen by Σ^V Rh. 185 (II 331.6–7 Schwartz = 86 Merro), the tale of Achilles’ horses is extracted from Il. 16.149–51 Ξάνθον καὶ Βαλίον, τὼ ἅμα πνοιῇσι πετέσθην, / τοὺς Ζεϕύρῳ ἀνέμῳ ἅρπυια Ποδάργη, / βοσκομένη λειμῶνι παρὰ ῥόον Ὠκεανοῖο and 23.276–8 ἴστε γάρ, ὅσσον ἐμοὶ ἀρετῇ περιβάλλετον ἵπποι. / τε γάρ εἰσι, Ποσειδάων δ᾽ ἔπορ᾽ αὐτούς / πατρὶ ἐμῷ Πηλῆϊ, ἐγγυάλιξεν (+ Il. 16.154, 866–7, 17.443–4). Aeneas’ team (Il. 5.265–72) and Adrestus’ stallion Arion (Il. 23.346–7 ~ Thebaid fr. 11 GEF) boast comparable divine pedigrees (cf. R. Janko, CQ n.s. 36 [1986], 51–5 and on Il. 16.149–50, Richardson on Il. 23.346–7).

185. ἐξ ἀϕθίτων … ἄϕθιτοι πεϕυκότες: The polyptoton underlines the equal nature of parents and offspring (Gygli-Wyss, Polyptoton, 92–3, Liapis on 185–6, with many parallels).

In view of the Homeric background (185–8n.), it is natural that Achilles’ horses are here described as male, whereas at 238–41 our poet follows the lyric-tragic convention of making teams feminine, regardless of their individual members’ sex (Barrett on Hipp. 231, Finglass on S. El. 703–4; cf. Rh. 356, 616–17, 781, 785–6 of Rhesus’ steeds). Such small inconsistencies are common in drama and hardly entered an audience’s mind (Mastronarde on Phoen. 26). Cf. 355–6 (βαλιαῖσι πώλοις), 686nn.

186. τὸν Πηλέως ϕέρουσι θούριον γόνον recalls Il. 10.323 (τοὺς ἵππους τε καὶ ἅρματα) … οἳ ϕορέουσιν ἀμύμονα Πηλείωνα (cf. 182–3n.) ~ Il. 2.770 ἵπποι θ᾽, οἳ ϕορέεσκον ἀμύμονα Πηλείωνα. From the Trojan perspective θούριος (‘impetuous’) well replaces ἀμύμων. The adjective (epic θοῦρος) is traditionally applied to Ares (e.g. Il. 5.30, 35, adjective (epic ) is traditionally applied to Ares (e.g. Il. 5.30, 35, 355, Tyrt. fr. 12.34 IEG, Ai. 612, E. Suppl. 579, Phoen. 240) and, by extension, to ferocious warriors or their equipment: Ai. 212, 1213 (Ajax),²⁹⁸ Rh. 492 (n.).

187–8. δίδωσι δ᾽ … πόντιος: Cf. Il. 23.277–8 (185–8n.) and Rh. 238–41 Φθιάδων δ᾽ ἵππων … / … / τὰς πόντιος Αἰακίδᾳ / Πηλεῖ δίδωσι δαίμων. For the ‘perfective’ present in both tragic passages see . For the ‘perfective’ present in both tragic passages see KG I 134–5, SD 272 and A. Rijksbaron, Grammatical Observations on Euripides’ Bacchae, Amsterdam 1991, 1–4 with n. 7. With δίδωσι(ν) Eum. 7–8, OT 1173, Hec. 1133–4, E. El. 34–5 and Ba. 43–4.

αὐτός: Dobree’s conjecture (Adversaria II [1833], 87 = IV [1874], 84) is superior to the paradosis αὐτούς (OΛ) or αὐτάς (V) for stressing the animals’ special nature as Poseidon’s gift. Indeed in Il. 23.277–8 (above) some MSS read αὐτός for αὐτούς, by analogy with Il. 2.827 Πάνδαρος, ᾧ Ἀπόλλων αὐτὸς ἔδωκεν.

πωλοδαμνήσας: Unlike at 624 πωλοδαμνήσεις δὲ σύ (‘you shall bring the horses under control’), the verb here bears its ordinary sense ‘to break in young horses’. It is first found metaphorically in Ai. 548-9 αὐτίκ᾽ ὠμοῖς ἐν νόμοις πατρός / δεῖ πωλοδαμνεῖν, but otherwise belongs to fourth-century and later prose.

ὡς λέγουσι: Phrases of this kind mark a statement ‘as being beyond the speaker’s direct knowledge’ (FJW on A. Suppl. 230 [II, p. 186]) and may lend ‘the authority of tradition’ to mythical and often miraculous events (T. C. W. Stinton, PCPS n.s. 22 [1976], 65 = Collected Papers, 242–3). There is usually no scepticism implied.

189a. ἐπάρας: ‘stir up, excite’ (LSJ s.v. ἐπαίρω II 1). ἐλπίδι or the like can be understood (109–10a n. with n. 53).

189b–90. δώσω δέ σοι / … Ἀχιλλέως ὄχον adapts Hector’s initial promise of the finest Greek team and chariot in return for the spying expedition: Il. 10.305–6 δώσωγὰρτ᾽ἐρια ύχε νας ἵππους, / οἵ κεν ἄριστοι ἔωσι θοῇς ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν.

ὄχος (literally ‘carriage, chariot’) here refers to the team alone, as at Hipp. 1229 ϕόβῳ τέτρωρον ἐκμαίνων ὄχον and E. El. 1135–6 τούσδ᾽ ὄχους, ὀπάονες, / ϕάτναις ἄγοντες πρόσθεθ᾽. So also Rh. 621 (620b–1n.) ὄχημα … πωλικόν, 797–8 (n.) ὄχημα πωλικόν / … ἵππων and more often ἅρμα (LSJ s.v. I 3).

κάλλιστον οἴκοις κτῆμ᾽: Cf. 620 κάλλιστον οἴκοις σκῦλον … The near-repetition stresses the analogy between Rhesus’ and Achilles’ horses.

191–2. ‘Thank you. And I say that, if I were to get them, I would receive the finest gift among the Phrygians in return for my courage.’

αἰνῶ: ‘a one-word formula of approval’ (Bond on HF 275), which sounds rather dry in response to Hector’s noble concession. The idiom is especially Euripidean: Alc. 1093 αἰνῶ μὲν αἰνῶ, HF 275, IT 1486, E. fr. 603.1 (context uncertain) and, with the less poetic ἐπαινῶ, HF 1235, IA 440, Ar. Ach. 485 (paratragic), Ran. 508, S. fr. 282.1 (Inachus). For the two verbs expressing thanks in general see J. H. Quincey, JHS 86 (1966), 133–58 (133–5, 144–58) and 647–8n.

δ᾽᾽ ἄν: Verrall (apud Murray) for δέ. With ἄν added, we arrive at an indirect potential hypothetical period, where the protasis is represented by the participle λαβών. Otherwise no satisfactory meaning could be elicited from the text.

Φρυγῶν: 32n.

τῆς ἐμῆς εὐσπλαγχνίας: almost like English ‘for my guts’ (εὔσπλαγχνος = ‘with healthy inwards’: [Hp.] Prorrh. II 6, 11). The noun is not elsewhere attested in classical Greek, but εὔσπλαγχνος appears, already in the figurative sense (cf. LSJ s.v. σπλάγχνον II), at A. fr. dub. 451c.33–4. To judge by similar tragic - compounds (Ritchie 155), it was rare, so that our poet perhaps coined εὐσπλαγχνία after precisely this source.

193–4. Dolon ends with a characteristically bold and condescending ‘consolation’, to which Hector does not respond (Strohm 259). The dramaturgy of his silence is discussed in 149–94n. (pp. 175–6).

: By contrast to other verbs of feeling, τέρπομαι does not usually take ἐπί + dative (KG I 440 n. 10, 502, SD 168, 467). Feickert (on 194) compares Luc. DMort. 22.6 ἐγὼ δὲ ἐτερπόμην ἐπ᾽ αὐτοῖς.

τῆσδ᾽ ἀριστεύων χθονός: With the non-personal partitive (or local) genitive, ἀριστεύω here merges from ‘to be best / bravest’ (LSJ s.v. I) into ‘hold a leading position, rule’ (cf. ἄρχω, κρατέω and the like). The construction has a late-fourth-century parallel in the lex sacra preceding Isyllus’ Epidaurian Paean: Isyll. 14–15 (CA 133 = Furley–Bremer II 181) οἵ κεν ἀριστεύωσι πόληος τᾶσδ(ε) / λέξασθαί τ᾽ ἄνδρας.

 

195–200. The antistrophe to 131–6 (131–6 ~ 195–200, 131–6nn.) is placed between Dolon’s dialogue with Hector (149–94) and his prolonged exit into ‘battle’ (201–23). Its praise for the spy and the fortune that, it is hoped, lies in store for him cannot be separated from the greatness and glory of his enterprise, which elevates the scouting mission to a heroic feat and so prepares the ground for Dolon’s boast at 219–23 (n.) that he will capture Odysseus’ or Diomedes’ head (R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 [1996], 259, 260–1). However, in contrast to the retrospective first stasimon (224–63n.), the chorus also strike a more serious chord, as they chide the arrogance of turning down a Priamid’s hand (197b–8n.). On the whole, therefore, we get the impression of a miniature victory-ode (Strohm 259), which highlights the disproportion between Dolon, his task and the reward he has asked for it. Getting the promise of Achilles’ horses will remain his sole ‘exploit’, while (with his help) another splendid team is to be taken that night.

Metre

131–6 ~ 195–200n.

 

195. : ‘Great is the contest’. Euripides often used μέγας / μέγιστος ἀγών, both literally and in metaphorical sense (Med. 235, Hipp. 496, Hec. 229, Hel. 843, 1090, Phoen. 860, Ba. 975, IA 1003–4, 1254). The expression is colloquial to judge by various comic examples (Ar. Nub. 957, Pax 276, Ran. 883, Pl. Com. fr. 46.10 PCG μείζων ἀγών, Men. Sam. 95 οὐ … μέτριος ἁγών) and e.g. Hdt. 7.104.3, 7.209.2, Thuc. 2.89.10 (all in direct speech) and Pl. Rep. 608b4. For Sophocles cf. OC 587 ὅρα μήν· οὐ σμικρός, οὔχ, ἁγὼν ὅδε.

ἐπινοεῖς: The verb is not otherwise attested in tragedy, but ἐπίνοια (‘intention, purpose’) occurs at Med. 760 and Phoen. 408 (with Mastronarde). In Ant. 389 it means ‘afterthought, second thoughts’ (LSJ s.v. ἐπίνοια II).

196. μακάριός γε μὰν … ἔσῃ: ‘(Yet) truly you will be blessed’. In the fifth century BC only Pindar (Pyth. 5.46), Aristophanes and Euripides have μακάριος and, unlike μάκαρ, always of men or their affairs (M. McDonald, ICS 4 [1979], 27–33). With γε μάν (Diggle for μήν in lyrics) the statement is marked as mildly adversative (G. Wakker, in NAGP, 224–6, where our passage fits better than under ‘progressive’ γε μήν [226–7 with n. 39]).

197a. πόνος ὅδ᾽᾽ εὐκλεής: Nauck’s ὅδ᾽ (II¹ [1854], XXII) for the MSS’ δ᾽ creates an elegant asyndeton (cf. 199–200n.) and exact metrical responsion with 133a τί γὰρ … The connection remains causal.

197b–8. ‘Still it is a great thing to become the kinsman of rulers.’

The sudden return to the subject of a royal marriage, which Dolon declined in 167–8 (n.), has perplexed scholars who failed to assign full adversative value to δέ and thus saw here either a gross poetic infelicity (Strohm 262 n. 2) or textual corruption in γαμβρὸν πέλειν (J. F. Gaertner, Hermes 131 [2003], 500). Yet as an oblique warning the remark makes perfect sense. Despite their enthusiasm, the chorus wonder whether Dolon has not gone too far in pressing for Achilles’ team, instead of accepting the first, and most generous, offer Hector made.

: For μέγα (σμικρόν / ϕαῦλον) with infinitive see Wilkins on Hcld. 21-2. The idiom recurs in 285 ἐσβαλεῖν στρατόν, but otherwise belongs to Euripides only of the tragedians. In the present context, note especially Tro. 259 οὐ γὰρ μέγ᾽ αὐτῇ βασιλικῶν λέκτρων τυχεῖν;

199–200. ‘Let Justice see to what comes from the gods; what lies with men seems fulfilled for you.’

The prospect of glory and a marvellous reward leaves nothing to be desired, although the outcome of Dolon’s mission still depends on the gods. Jouan and Zanetto, among others, translate ‘As to what comes from the gods, let Justice watch over you, as to …’.299 But it is unnatural to make τὰ δὲ παρ᾽ ἀνδράσιν adverbial (parallel to τὰ θεόθεν), and ἐπίδοι rather than would be expected in the wish (Paley on 199, 200). Moreover, while Dike may be assumed to determine which fate Dolon deserves, she has no place as protector of a spying expedition. Hermes will appropriately be invoked for that in 216–17.

τὰ θεόθεν: Bothe (5 [1803], 288) and Seidler (De versibus dochmiacis, 61 n.*) reduced Ω’s τὰ δέ. In contrast to 197a (n.), the scribal attempt to remove asyndeton destroys the metre here.

τὰ δὲ παρ᾽᾽ Heath (Notae sive lectiones, 95) for ἀνδράσι (Ω), which does not scan. Wecklein (SBAW I [1897], 478) also offered παρ᾽ ἀνέρων. But exact correspondence with τὰ θεόθεν is unnecessary and not even desired if a difference in rank is to be observed between gods and men as distributors of boons (cf. Feickert on 200).

 

201–23. Before his departure Dolon explains to the curious and astonished chorus how he is planning to approach the Greek camp in a wolf’s disguise (201–15). The sentries dispatch him with a tell-tale good wish (216–18), which elicits one last, extravagant boast (219–23). We will not see Dolon on stage again.

Formally the scene resembles Ba. 821–46, where Dionysus prepares to lure Pentheus to his death by tempting him to spy on the maenads in women’s dress. There is nothing of the dark and twisted psychology here, but Dolon too will go to his doom in what should have been the perfect camouflage (201–2n.). Each time, moreover, the subject of disguise is introduced in a similar way (204, 206nn.) and then described, as it were, from head to toe (Rh. 208–11a ~ Ba. 831–5). Most significantly, perhaps, Pentheus invokes the need for a ‘military reconnaissance’ sortie (Ba. 838 ὀρθῶς· μολεῖν πρῶτον ἐς κατασκοπήν)³⁰⁰ to justify his desire to see the Bacchic rites (Dodds on Ba. 821–38).

Dolon’s animal costume goes far beyond the donning of a wolf-skin and marten’s cap in Il. 10.333–5 (208–11a n.) and has provoked ridicule since Σ^V Rh. 210 (II 331.8–9 Schwartz = 86–7 Merro) ἀπίθανον τὴν λυκῆν αὐτῷ περιτίθησιν. Yet it was no invention on our poet’s part. Three Attic vase-paintings of the early fifth century BC already show the spy thus fully attired, and one even crawling on all fours (Paris, Louvre CA 1802 [~ 480–460 BC]).³⁰¹ Of special interest is a fragmentary red-figure cup attributed to Onesimus (Paris, Cab. Méd. 526 [part], 743, 553, L. 41 [~ 500–490 BC]),³⁰² which shows the encounter with Odysseus and Diomedes. On the far right Athena appears by Diomedes’ side, while on the far left Hermes (cf. 199–200, 216–17nn.) is leaving Dolon to his fate.303 It seems, therefore, that we have in Dolon’s mimicry a genuine early variant of the myth, for which Rhesus happens to be our only literary source.³⁰⁴ If and how it relates to Iliad 10 is impossible to tell (Fenik, Iliad X, 59–60), but it may well be older and ultimately reflect some ritual or werewolf tale (cf. Jouan, XXX with n. 58, S. H. Steadman, CR 59 [1945], 7). As an ancient military ruse, animal disguise is attested by Jos. BJ 3.190–2 ἕτερον ἐπενόησεν … ἕρπειν πολλὰ παρὰ τὰς ϕυλακὰς κελεύσας τοῖς ἐξιοῦσιν καὶ τὰ νῶτα νάκεσιν, ὡς εἰ καὶ κατίδοι τις αὐτοὺς νύκτωρ, ϕαντασίαν παρέχοιεν κυνῶν (Musgrave on Rh. 208). The attempt also failed.

The dramatic prominence given to Dolon’s camouflage foreshadows the recurrent use of the wolf-motif thoughout the play, especially regarding Odysseus and Diomedes, who take the hide (591–3, 780–8nn.). More immediately, its description in terms of both a Homeric arming scene (208–11a n.) and the way Heracles puts on his lion-skin (208–9n.) contributes to Dolon’s transformation into an overconfident warrior, which was begun in the preceding choral song (195–200n.) and culminates in the hope that he will kill an Achaean chief (219–223n.). It is a characteristic paradox that the man who receives a farewell like King Aegeus after granting Medea sanctuary (216–17n.) will engage in the distinctly unheroic activity of prowling around in the dark. No single Iliadic fighter is compared to a wolf, the emblem of trickery and sneak attacks (W. Richter, RE Suppl. XV s.v. Wolf, col. 966, R. Buxton, in J. N. Bremmer [ed.], Interpretations of Greek Mythology, London – Sydney 1987, 64–5, Janko on Il. 16.156–63).³⁰⁵ Unsurprisingly, then, Longus was inspired by our account for Dorkon’s treacherous attempt on Chloe (cf. 208–11a n.).

It has been suggested that Dolon acts out the movements while he describes his disguise and four-footed walk (Burnett, ‘Smiles’, 22, R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 [1996], 260, Burlando, Reso, 63–4), like the Pythia in Eumenides and Polymestor in Hecuba (211b–12n.). But anything beyond a few gestures would look absurd and ruin the delicate balance our poet draws between the elevated and base. More probably, Odysseus’ and Diomedes’ entry with the wolf-skin mirrors what in Dolon’s case we never see.

 

201–3. ‘I will go. I will return to my hearth at home and equip my body with suitable attire, and from there I will set out for the Argive ships.’

201–2. στείχοιμ᾽ ἄν: For the first-person potential optative expressing a fixed resolve see KG I 233, SD 329, and cf. 835–7 οὐδέν᾽ ἂν δεξαίμεθα / … / ἄλλον. Euripides has several cases of στείχοιμ᾽ ἄν at line-opening (El. 669, Ion 418, 668, Ba. 515, 845)306 and the last one in a context similar to ours (201–23n.). Sophocles avoids ‘formulaic’ style at Ant. 1108 ὧδ᾽ ὡς ἔχω στείχοιμ᾽ ἄν.

ἐλθὼν <δ᾽> ἐς δόμους ἐϕέστιος: Ritchie (201) denied any direct influence of Tr. 262–3 ὃς αὐτὸν ἐλθόντ᾽ ἐς δόμους ἐϕέστιον, / ξένον παλαιὸν by referring to Med. 713 δέξαι δὲ χώρᾳ καὶ δόμοις ἐϕέστιον and the general frequency in tragedy of ἐϕέστιος (‘at one’s hearth’) following a form of δόμοι or δώματα (cf. Davies on Tr. 262). However, the case for (somewhat imperfect) verbal borrowing (Fraenkel, Rev. 232; cf. Introduction, 37), is strengthened by the observation that ἐϕέστιος is far less relevant to changing garb than to being a guest –let alone a suppliant (A. Suppl. 365, Eum. 577, 669, Cyc. 371, Med. 713) or a man going to greet his household gods (Ag. 851–3).³⁰⁷ Also, in view of Il. 10.333–6, one may doubt whether Dolon will return home (i.e. to Troy) at all, and the words become entirely improbable for a mere bivouac (Porter on 201: ‘The poet seems to ignore the fact that Dolon is in camp’).³⁰⁸ Perhaps he at first thought of Ba. 843a–6, where Pentheus leaves for his palace (ἐς οἴκους) to get dressed as a maenad, as it turns out (201–23n.).

<δ᾽> (Aldine) removes the unwanted asyndeton in the paradosis.

Cf. Rh. 208 (208–9n.) λύκειον ἀμϕὶ νῶτ᾽ ἐνά ψομαι δοράν, Arch. Ep. 19.2 Gow–Page GPh ὁ πρὶν ὑπαὶ , Arch. Ep. 19.2 Gow-Page GPh (of a race-horse), S. fr. 314.225–6 (Ichneutae) νεβρίνῃ καθημμέν[ο]ς / δορᾷ (LSJ s.v. καθάπτω I 2: ‘equip by fastening or hanging on’) and E. fr. 752.1–3 = Ar. Ran. 1211–13 Διόνυσος, ὃς θύρσοισι καὶ νεβρῶν δοραῖς / καθαπτὸς ἐν πεύκῃσι Παρνασσὸν κάτα / πηδᾷ. On σκευή, ‘dress, attire’, in tragedy see Collard on E. Suppl. 1054.

203. ἥσω … πόδα: The idiom recurs in 797–8 οἳ δ᾽ … / … ἵεσαν ϕυγῇ πόδα. Barrett on Hipp. 542–4 (p. 262) examines this ‘less restricted use’ of in tragedy and also quotes E. El. 799 δμῶες πρὸς ἔργον πάντες ἵεσαν χέρας. Later, note Diosc. Ep. 16.10 Gow–Page HE ἐς τὸν ἑὸν τύμπανον ἧκε χέρας.

ναῦς ἔπ᾽ Ἀργείων: 149–50n.

204. ‘Why, what other dress will you wear instead of this?’

The coryphaeus’ question and its virtual repetition in 207 (n.) resemble those of Pentheus at Ba. 828 τίνα στολήν; ἦ θῆλυν; αἰδώς μ᾽ ἔχει and 830 στολὴν δὲ τίνα ϕῂς ἀμϕὶ χρῶτ᾽ ἐμὸν βαλεῖν; (201–23n.).

ἐπεὶ τίν᾽ ἄλλην … στολήν; The logical connection is as follows: ‘You say you want to go home and put on a garb to suit your purpose. For (ἐπεί) what other dress …?’ (Ammendola on 204). More regularly, such questions explain why something has just been said (FJW on A. Suppl. 330), but cf. Cho. 212–14 (Ορ.) τὰ λοιπά, τοῖς θεοῖς τελεσϕόρους / εὐχὰς ἐπαγγέλλουσα, τυγχάνειν καλῶς. / (Ηλ.) ἐπεὶ τί νῦν ἕκατι δαιμόνων κυρῶ; for a similar use in dramatic dialogue.

205. κλωπικοῖς … βήμασιν: ‘stealthy movements’. κλωπικός (properly ‘thievish’) occurs only here and in 512, unless, against Fraenkel (Rev. 230) and all modern editors, we accept it in Pl. Crat. 408a1 as a variant for the equally unparalleled κλοπικός (A. Meschini, in Scritti Diano, 218–19).³⁰⁹ It is possible, therefore, that our poet coined the word himself, after the contemporary fashion of forming (pseudo-)technical adjectives in -ικός (cf. Liapis on 205). Λ has (cf. Pl. Rep. 334b4 and later), which accords less well with κλῶπες later in the play (644–5n.). See also 503–5n.

206. σοϕοῦ παρ᾽ ἀνδρὸς χρὴ σοϕόν τι μανθάνειν: Cf. Pentheus at Ba. 824 (201–23n.). In view of Ba. 178–9 (Cadmus to Teiresias) ὦ ϕίλταθ᾽, σὴν γῆρυν ᾐσθόμην and the secure position παρά holds in both the direct and indirect tradition (below), (gV) should not be preferred with Liapis (‘Notes’, 57).

Apart from 105–8 (n.), this is the only sententia in our play that found its way into the anthological tradition: Stob. 2.31.14, Orion Anth. 1.7 (p. 42 Schneidewin), [Men.] Mon. 718 Jäkel. Cf. Introduction, 46.

207. λέξον·· τίς ἔσται …; The division into command and direct question, when the verse could also be taken as a single sentence, suits the chorus-leader’s excitement and perhaps general soldiers’ diction. For the largely subjective editorial choice involved see FJW on A. Suppl. 460.

σαγή (properly ‘pack, baggage’) has come to denote all sorts of ‘equipment’ (LSJ s.v. I) and refers to a disguise also at Cho. 560–1 γὰρ εἰκώς, παντελῆ σαγὴν ἔχων, / ἥξω … ἐϕ᾽ ἑρκείους πύλας. But the usual sense in drama is ‘military gear’ (Pers. 240, Sept. 126, 391, HF 188 and, of the panoply, Ant. 107 πανσαγίᾳ, S. fr. 1092 [with Radt], Ar. fr. 881 PCG, Men. fr. 570 PCG), which Dolon exploits in the following account of how he will ‘arm’ himself (208–11a n.).

208–11a. Just as Il. 10.333–5 αὐτίκα δ᾽ ἀμϕ᾽ ὤμοισιν ἐβάλλετο καμπύλα τόξα, / ἕσσατο δ᾽ ῥινὸν πολιοῖο λύκοιο, / κρατὶ δ᾽ ἔπι κτιδέην κυνέην, ἕλε δ᾽ ὀξὺν ἄκοντα may be called ‘a truncated arming … scene’ (Hainsworth on Il. 10.333–7), our poet adheres to the Homeric pattern in his description of Dolon’s wolf-disguise (R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 [1996], 259). Deviations from the standard order, 1. greaves, 2. corslet, 3. sword, 4. shield, 5. helmet, 6. spear (Kirk on Il. 3.330–8), are due to the fact that Dolon will don not a panoply, but an animal skin, which it is practical to put round first the torso (208: corslet), then the head (209: helmet), and finally the arms and shins (210–11a: greaves).³¹⁰ The usual weapons are not mentioned here for the simple reason that they would spoil the stratagem.

Together with HF 361–3 (below) our text seems to have been the model for Dorkon’s scheme at Longus 1.20.2–3 λύκου δέρμα μεγάλου λαβὼν … περιέτεινε τῷ σώματι ποδῆρες ὡς τούς τε προσθίους πόδας ἐϕηπλῶσθαι ταῖς χερσὶ καὶ τοὺς κατόπιν τοῖς κεϕαλὴν ὥσπερ ἀνδρὸς κράνος. ἐκθηριώσας δὲ αὑτὸν ὡς ἔνι μάλιστα … (201–23, 208–9, 210–11a nn., Introduction, 45). For wolf-imagery and the tradition of Dolon’s disguise see likewise 201–23n. and Introduction, 5.

208–9. The opening couplet has long been recognised as an imitation of HF 361–3 πυρσῷ δ᾽ ἀμϕεκαλύϕθη / ξανθὸν κρᾶτ᾽ ἐπινωτίσας / δεινοῦ χάσματι θηρός³¹¹ (~ 465–6 τε θηρὸς ἀμϕέβαλλε σῷ κάρᾳ / λέοντος, ᾗπερ αὐτὸς ἐξωπλίζετο), which affords the only classical parallel for χάσμα = ‘gaping mouth’ (LSJ s.v. II with Suppl. [1996], Wilamowitz on HF 363, R. Renehan, CPh 80 [1985], 154). Both passages probably shaped the words of Longus 1.20.2 (cf. 208–11a n.).

ἀμϕὶ νῶτ᾽ ἐνάψομαι: Cobet (VL², 583). The transmitted νῶτον ἅψομαι (Δ: νῶτα θήσομαι Λ), still kept by Wecklein, Porter, Ammendola and Zanetto (Feickert), is possible but unidiomatic Greek. ἐνάπτομαι and ἐνῆμμαι regularly appear of putting on or wearing clothes: Hdt. 7.69.1 Αἰθίοπες δὲ παρδαλέας τε καὶ λεοντέας ἐναμμένοι, HF 549 θανάτου τάδ᾽ περιβόλαι᾽ ἐνήμμεθα (Scaliger: ἀν- L), Ar. Nub. 72, Av. 1250, Ran. 430, Eccl. 80, fr. 264.1 PCG ὁ χορὸς δ᾽ ὠρχεῖτ᾽ ἂν ἐναψάμενος δάπιδας καὶ στρωματόδεσμα, D. Chr. 7.32, Luc. Herc. 1, Tim. 6 (LSJ s.v. ἐνάπτω I 2) and in particular also Eust. on Dion. Per. 939 (I 286.27–31 Bernhardy = GGM II 383.31–5) ἐνάπτεσθαι δὲ καὶ καθάπτεσθαι λέγομεν τὰ μὴ ζώνῃ διαλαμβανόμενα, μηδὲ τὸ σῶμα ἐνδύοντα, ἀλλὰ μέρος τι σκέποντα καὶ ἄϕετα ἐξαρτώμενα, οἷον πήραν λεοντῆν ἢ παρδαλέην. There should be no objection to the addition of a prepositional phrase here. Singular νῶτον and νῶτα alternate in poetry.

With Cobet’s conjecture 208 joins 986 as the only other iambic trimeter in Rhesus where elision creates a (weakened) medial caesura. See Ritchie 285–6 and in general West, GM 82–3, Diggle, Euripidea, 473–4 with n. 151.

χάσμα θηρός: In later Greek (where χάσμα, ‘jaws, gaping mouth’, is common) cf. especially Plut. Mar. 25.10 οἱ δ᾽ ἱππεῖς … ἐξήλασαν λαμπροί, κράνη μὲν εἰκασμένα ϕοβερῶν χάσμασι καὶ προτομαῖς ἰδιομόρϕοις ἔχοντες. Hsch. χ 224 Hansen–Cunningham χάσμα θηρός· ὄψις θηρός, […] πρόσωπον explains the synecdoche.

210–11a. Again a strong influence can be seen on Longus 1.20.2 ὡς τούς τε προσθίους ἐϕηπλῶσθαι ταῖς χερσὶ καὶ τοὺς κατόπιν τοῖς σκέλεσιν ἄχρι πτέρνης (cf. 208–1 1a n.).

βάσιν … προσθίαν: ‘the fore-feet’, as in e.g. Hdt. 2.69.2 περὶ τοὺς ἐμπροσθίους πόδας (v.l. προσθίους), 4.60.1, Xen. Cyn. 4.1 σκέλη τὰ πρόσθια μικρά, 9.19 and Longus 1.20.2 (above). Simple βάσις meaning ‘foot’ first occurs in Phil. 1378–9. Otherwise note Hec. 836–7 εἴ μοι γένοιτο ϕθόγγος ἐν βραχίοσιν / … καὶ ποδῶν βάσει, E. fr. 540.2–3 … ὑπὸ λεοντόπουν / καθέζετ᾽ and IA [421] θηλύπουν βάσιν.

211b–12. τετράπουν μιμήσομαι / λύκου κέλευθον: Although ‘Dolon the Wolf’ never appears on stage, and we may doubt he went to great, if any, mimetic efforts here (201–23n.), it is worth noting that the only surviving cases of a dramatic entry on all fours are the terrified Pythia at Eum. 34–8 (Taplin, Stagecraft, 363, Sommerstein on 33) and Polymestor, blinded, at Hec. 1056–9 ὤμοι ἐγώ, πᾷ βῶ … / τετράποδος βάσιν θηρὸς ὀρεστέρου / τιθέμενος ἐπὶ χεῖρα καὶ ἴχνος; The latter shows pertinent verbal overlaps with our passage and its lyric ‘repetition’ in 255b–7a (n.) … τετράπουν / μῖμον ἔχων ἐπὶ γαίας / θηρός (Collard on Hec. 1056–1106, 1058–9 ~ in J. A. López Férez [ed.], Estudios actuales sobre textos griegos … , Madrid 1991, 165, 167).

LSJ s.v. κέλευθος III quote Tro. 887–8 πάντα γὰρ δι᾽ ἀψόϕου / βαίνων κελε ύθου κατὰ δίκ ην τὰ θνήτ ᾽ ἄγεις as a parallel for the sense ‘walk, gait’. But a local interpretation (‘For proceeding on a silent path you direct all mortal affairs in accordance with justice’) seems preferable; cf. Bacch. 9.47–8 στείχει δι᾽εὐρείας κελε[ύ]θου / μυρία πάντᾳ ϕάτις.

δυσεύρετον: The adjective is surprisingly rare in classical Greek: PV 816, Ba. 1221 (del. Nauck), Xen. Mem. 3.14.7, Vect. 4.13.

213. τάϕροις … καὶ νεῶν προβλήμασιν: the Achaean trench and wall (110b–11, 989b–92nn.). For πρόβλημα with an objective genitive, ‘defence for …’ (LSJ s.v. II 1), cf. Sept. 539–40 ἐν χαλκηλάτῳ / σάκει, κυκλωτῷ σώματος προβλήματι.

πελάζων: 13–14n.

214–15. ‘But when I set foot on empty land, I shall walk on two legs. That is how my ruse is constructed.’

ὅταν δ᾽ ἔρημον χῶρον ἐμβαίνω ποδί: Euripides often used ἐμβαίνω with the accusative (properly of direction): Cyc. 91–2 ἄξενόν τε γῆν (Jacobs: στέγην L) / τήνδ᾽ ἐμβεβῶτες (with Seaford on 91), Alc. 1000–1, Hec. 921–2, Suppl. 987–9 (metaphorical) and El. 1288 σὺ δ᾽ γῆς αὐχέν᾽ ἐμβαίνων ποδί, which illustrates his further habit of combining a verb of motion with ποδί or πόδα (Diggle, Studies, 36–7). Rhesus has several other such pleonastic datives (Ritchie 235–6; cf. 56–8n.).

δίβαμος: Like ἀμβλώψ (736–7n.), this had been a hapax until a Euripidean attestation emerged in P. Oxy. 2461 fr. 1.15 = E. fr. 472b.32 (Cretans) τετρ]ασκελὴς γὰρ ἢ δίβαμ[ος ἔρχεται; (Ritchie 150 n. 1, Fraenkel, Rev. 230; cf. Introduction, 31). The ending -βαμος is a metrical alternative to -βάμων also at Pi. Pyth. 9.18 ἱστῶν παλιμβάμους … ὁδούς.³¹² For the latter cf. particularly τετραβάμων, ‘four-footed’, in the lyric E. El. 476 τετραβάμονες ἵπποι, Tro. 516, Hel. 376, Phoen. 792 (corrupt) and 808.

τῇδε σύγκειται δόλος: Dolon’s confident summary (130b, 640–1nn.) ends with the very word that recalls his name (158–9a n.).

216–17. The coryphaeus’ invocation bears a striking similarity to that for Aegeus at Med. 759–60 ἀλλά σ᾽ ὁ Μαίας πομπαῖος ἄναξ / πελάσειε δόμοις (Strohm 259), which throws into relief the great hopes that rest on the spy (G. Paduano, Maia n.s. 25 [1973], 20, Burlando, Reso, 57, Rh. 201–23n.). Hermes is here called upon as both divine escort (πομπαῖος) and god of deceit (δόλιος). Cf. Cho. 726–9 (~ 812–18), S. El. 1395–7 ὁ Μαίας δὲ παῖς / Ἑρμῆς σϕ᾽ ἄγει δόλον σκότῳ / κρύψας πρὸς αὐτὸ τέρμα κοὐκέτ᾽ ἀμμένει (with Jebb and Finglass on 1395–6), Phil. 133 Ἑρμῆς δ᾽ ὁ πέμπων δόλιος ἡγήσαιτο νῷν (with Jebb) and Ar. Pl. 1157–60. An early-fifth-century Attic vase-painting shows him deserting Dolon as he falls into the Achaeans’ hands (201–23n.).

ἀλλά: When ἀλλά introduces a wish or prayer in reply, ‘[t]here is no strong break-off … [it] merely marks a gentle transition from the known present to the unknown and desired future, corresponding very closely with the English ‘well” (GP 15–16).

ὅς γε ϕιλητῶν ἄναξ: Hermes is the ‘prince of thieves’ also at h.Merc. 174–5 … ἤτοι ἐγώ γε / πειρήσω – δύναμαι – ϕιλητέων ὄρχαμος εἶναι, 292 ἀρχὸς ϕιλητέων κεκλήσεαι ἤματα πάντα and the dubious Chian verse-inscription EG 1108 Ἑρμῆν τὸν κλέπτην τις ὑϕείλετο · θερμὸς ὁ κλέπτης, / ὃς τῶν ϕιλητέων ᾤχετ᾽ ἄνακτ[α] ϕέρων. Elsewhere ϕιλήτης and ϕιλητεύω (on the spelling see below) are just as naturally applied to the god: h.Merc. 66–7, 159, 446, Hippon. fr. 79.10 IEG, S. fr. 314.340 (Ichneutae), Hellanic. FGrHist 4 F 19b (Garvie on Cho. 1001–3).

Editors prefer to read ϕηλητῶν (ΛgE) here. But ϕῑλ- (Δ) is confirmed by the pun in Hellanic. FGrHist 4 F 19b τ[ῶν] δὲ γίγνεται Ἑρμ[ῆς] ϕιλήτης, ὅτι αὐτῇ ϕιλησίμ[ως] συνεκοιμ[ᾶτο], as well as Foed.Delph. Pell. I B 8, II A 13 (= 328a Schwyzer) ϕιλατίας (III BC) and several papyri and learned works (LSJ s.v. ϕιλήτης with Suppl. [1996]). It seems, then, that this was the accepted form, despite the apparent connection with ϕηλόω (Ag. 492, E. Suppl. 243), ϕήλωμα (Antipho Soph. 87 B 71 DK) and the like. ‘No satisfactory explanation of the matter has yet been given’ (West on Hes. Op. 375).

218. ἔχεις δὲ τοὔργον: ‘You know what you must do’, like Phil. 789 ἔχετε τὸ πρᾶγμα (‘You know what is the matter’). In general see LSJ s.v. ἔχω (A) A I 9 ‘possess mentally, understand’.

εὐτυχεῖν μόνον σε δεῖ: Cf. Hel. 1424 … τῆς τύχης με δεῖ μόνον. The parallel favours δεῖ (OΛgE) over χρή (V). Both verbs occur with little or no noticeable difference and are often confused by scribes (Barrett on Hipp. 41, R. Renehan, Greek Textual Criticism, Cambridge [Mass.] 1969, 129–34, Diggle, Textual Tradition, 123). For ‘leave-taking formulae’ such as this see Collard on E. Suppl. 1182.

219–23. Dolon’s parting words are full of dramatic irony. The preposterous claim that he will kill Odysseus or Diomedes is taken even further in 254–60, where the chorus hope that he will murder Menelaus or Agamemnon (and bring Helen his head). Together the passages foreshadow the fall of a would-be hero (G. Paduano, Maia n.s. 25 [1973], 19–20, R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 [1996], 260–1), who will himself lose his head in a gruesome way (Il. 10.455–7).

On decapitation in epic (and Greek myth generally) see 257b–60n. and Liapis on 219–23 (p. 124).

219–22a. σωθήσομαί τοι: ‘Be assured that …’. Diggle’s τοι (Euripidea, 513–15) for τε (VΛ et ^lΣ^V: δὲ O) has rightly been adopted by Kovacs and Jouan. A more confident statement than ‘Yes, I will both come safe home and kill Odysseus …’ (Parker on Alc. 420–1 [p. 139]) is desired, and unlike γε (Wilamowitz, apud Murray) or δή (Liapis, ‘Notes’, 58 and on 219–23), τοι regularly stands ‘in response to a command’ (GP 541); cf. 570–1 (Οδ.) ὅρα … μὴ ϕύλαξιν ἐντύχῃς. / (Δι.) ϕυλάξομαί τοι … The error is easy and common, whether or not the particle precedes καί (Diggle, Euripidea, 314–15).

᾿Οδυσσέως / … κάρα … ἢ παῖδα Τυδέως: ‘Odysseus’ head … or that of Tydeus’ son’ (cf. Σ^V Rh. 219 [II 331.10–11 Schwartz = 87 Merro]). The change of construction is explicable both by the long parenthesis (below) and the tendency in Greek to ‘default’ obliques into the accusative case. Our example follows the pattern of comparatio compendiaria, where for the sake of brevity a part of the whole is related to another whole: Il. 17.51 κόμαι Χαρίτεσσιν ὁμοῖαι, 21.191, Theoc. 20.25 ὄμματά μοι γλαυκᾶς χαροπώτερα πολλὸν Ἀθάνας, Thuc. 1.71.3 δι᾽ ὅπερ καὶ τὰ τῶν Ἀθηναίων … ἐπὶ πλέον ὑμῶν κεκαίνωται (KG II 310–11, SD 99). And it may have helped that often in tragedy κάρα stands in periphrasis for a person (LSJ s.v. (A) 3, Griffith on Ant. 1, Rh. 226a, 902–3nn.). We see here the literal reverse, as it were.313

σύμβολον δ᾽ ἔχων σαϕές / ϕήσεις Δόλωνα ναῦς ἔπ᾽ Ἀργείων μολεῖν: Like 939–40a (938–40n.) οὐδὲν δ᾽ Ὀδυσσε ὺς οὐδ᾽ ὁ Τυδέως τόκος / ἔδρασε, this cannot be recognised as a parenthesis in writing until the main sentence is resumed in 222. Similarly E. El. 787–9 ἀλλ᾽ ἴωμεν ἐς δόμους – / καὶ ταῦθ᾽ ἅμ᾽ ἠγόρευε καὶ χερὸς λαβών / παρῆγεν ἡμᾶς – οὐδ᾽ ἀπαρνεῖσθαι χρεών, Phoen. 163–7 (with Mastronarde on 167), Or. 1516, IA 391–4.

σύμβολον δ᾽ ἔχων σαϕές: The same words are used at Phil. 403–4 ἔχοντες … σύμβολον σαϕές / λύπης πρὸς ἡμᾶς … πεπλεύκατε (where λύπης is a defining genitive). The head of Odysseus (or Diomedes) will be a visible ‘token’ that Dolon’s has reached the Greek ships (cf. Willink on Or. 1130).

Δόλωνα: The spy and would-be assassin proudly refers to himself in the third person. Cf. Il. 1.240 ἦ ποτ᾽ Ἀχιλλῆος ποθὴ ἵξεται υἷας Ἀχαιῶν (with BK), 4.354, 8.22, 11.761, and see West on Hes. Th. 22.

ναῦς ἔπ᾽᾽ Ἀργείων μολεῖν: 149–50n.

222b–3. ἀναιμάκτῳ: ‘bloodless, unstained with blood’ (LSJ s.v. with Suppl. [1996]). Before Rhesus the adjective is found in A. Suppl. 196 and Phoen. 264. It may be an Aeschylean coinage.

πρὶν ϕάος μολεῖν χθόνα: Cf. Alc. 1145–6 πρὶν ἂν … / … τρίτον μόλῃ ϕάος and Ag. 766–7 … ὅτε τὸ κύριον μόλῃ / ϕάος.

 

224–63. Dolon’s departure is marked with a lively song that moves from a traditional cletic hymn to Apollo (224–32) and prayers for success on the scouting expedition (233–41) to praise for Dolon’s valour (242–52) and the wish that he may kill (one of) the Achaean generals (253–63).314 The symmetric pattern, which ‘mirrors the development of D[olon]’s mission’ in the preceding episode ‘from that of a spy … to that of an assassin …’ (Klyve on 224–263 [p. 186]), is underlined by sentence structure (both antistrophes end with a relative clause pertaining to the prehistory of the Trojan War) and the unusual syntactical bridge between the first antistrophe and the second strophe (242–4a n.). To a considerable extent, moreover, the chorus repeat sentiments from Dolon’s conversations with Hector (149–94) and the coryphaeus (201–23) – in more or less the original order and words (233–6, 240–1, 242–4a, 255b–7a, 257b–60nn.). Apart from the ‘cletic hymn’ to Rhesus at 342–79 (n.), two Euripidean examples for this type of ‘scene-reflecting’ song particularly come to mind (Ritchie 338). The first stasimon of Alcestis (435–75) not only summarises the heroine’s fate so far, but in celebrating her virtue also provided thematic and verbal precedents for our ode (242–4a, 245b nn.). Hcld. 353–80 similarly recalls the agon between Demophon and the Argive Herald in lyric form (Wilkins on Hcld. 353–80). Like the sentries’ hymn, these stasima conclude the first movement of their plays and so indirectly prepare for an advance in the plot. In Hcld. 353–80 we observe a comparable (if more immediate and not absolute) contrast between the confidence of the chorus and the following ruination of their hopes (cf. M. R. Halleran, Stagecraft in Euripides, London – Sydney 1985, 53–4, 56).

This παρὰ προσδοκίαν quality of both Rh. 224–63 and 342–79 (above) recalls Sophocles’ famous ‘odes of false preparation’: Ai. 693–718, OT 1086–1109, Ant. 1115–54 and Tr. 633–62 (Kranz, Stasimon, 213–14, 264). Placed right at the dramatic turning point, they express various degrees of choral delusion. Our songs join Tr. 633–62 (and HF 763–814) in that for the moment ‘there is good reason for rejoicing’ (Bond on HF 763–814). But as in Ai. 693–718 and especially Ant. 1115–54, we also have here divine invocations which remain unanswered (A. Henrichs, in M. Griffiths – D. J. Mastronarde [eds.], Cabinet of the Muses. Essays … in Honor of Thomas G. Rosenmeyer, Atlanta 1990, 266). Apollo no more comes to help Troy than Dionysus his city Thebes (Ant. 1122–5, 1135–9), and Rhesus is prevented by Athena from fulfilling his promise as a ‘saviour god’ (cf. C. W. Keyes, CPh 24 [1929], 207 ~ TAPA 59 (1928), xxviii and Rosivach 63–4 on the role of fate behind Apollo’s and Athena’s interventions). In the long run, therefore, the chorus’ fervour will be recognised as just another manifestation of their (and indeed all human characters’) inability to understand the order of events. Meanwhile Trojan expectations are raised further by the arrival of the Idaean Shepherd (264) and Rhesus himself (388).

Metre

224–32 ~ 233–41. Dactylo-epitrites with the typically Attic admixture of iambics (Dale, LM² 180–1, West, GM 132–3, Parker, Songs, 88–9). Cf. the ‘Dawn-Song’ (527–37 ~ 546–56) and the Muse’s monody, which recalls several metrical features of this ode (890–14 ‘Metre’).

242–52 ~ 253–63. A blend of dactylo-epitrites, iambo-choriambic and aeolic metres, not unlike that of the parodos (23–33 ~ 41–51). On the difficult sequence that ends the stanzas see 250–2/261–3n.

 

As in the second stasimon of Troades (799–859), the preponderance of dactylo-epitrite in both strophic pairs may to some degree reflect their ‘epic’ content (Klyve on 224–263 [p. 186]; cf. Collard on Hec. 905–52 [p. 177]). The fact that it was also a favourite metre of choral-lyric hymns (West, GM 76) makes it doubly appropriate to this song.

Notes

224/233 For the juxtaposition of e- and D-cola without link-anceps or word-division cf. Tr. 94 ~ 103 (),315 Andr. 1011–12 ~ 1020–1 (- D - e ∫D), E. fr. 303.4 () and in less purely dactylo-epitrite contexts (so that the e-unit could also be regarded as iambic) Hel. 1107 ~ 1122 (), 1145–6 (- E ∫ D) and Phaeth. 272–3 Diggle = E. fr. 781.63–4 (). In our passage we do not have ‘dove-tailing’, but word-end after a longer overlap of three syllables.

226–8/235–7 This is really one long verse so that it does not matter whether (with most editors) we divide after the link-syllable or before (Willink, ‘Cantica’, 27 = Collected Papers, 566).

231–2/240–1 Taken together, the lines resemble the ‘Archilochian dicolon’ × D × | ith || (Willink, ‘Cantica’, 27 = Collected Papers, 566). But the responding word-end after - D suggests that our poet envisaged two separate entities, showing the characteristic interplay between blunt and pendent. For similar clausulae to (partly) dactylo-epitrite stanzas cf. PV 429–30 ~ 434–5, 534–5 ~ 543–4, S. fr. 476 = Ar. Av. 1337–9, Med. 419–20 ~ 430–1, Hec. 931–2 ~ 941–2. See also Dale, LM² 180–1, West, GM 132 with n. 141, 133 and Parker, Songs, 88–9, 90, 260–1.

242–3/253–4 ‘Lyric trimeters in which a choriamb appears as either the first or second metron seem to be distinctively tragic’ (Parker, Songs, 79). Cf. 342–79 ‘Metre’ 347/356n. on ‘ia cho ia‸’.

244/255 Our poet has a liking for the ‘prolonged hemiepes’ (23–51 ‘Metre’ 27/45n.).

249/260 The ambiguous colon connects the preceding dactylo-epitrite with the mainly aeolo-choriambic sequence of 250–2 ~ 261–3 (n.). K. Itsumi (BICS 38 [1991–1993], 250, 255) sharply distinguishes between ‘enoplian’ and aeolic metres, which do not often occur together. Our length is paralleled at IT 1245–6 ~ 1270–1 (aeolo-choriambic). Euripides has several cases of telesillean (= acephalous glyconic) with resolved half-base, especially in his later plays: Hec. 635 ~ 644, 905 ~ 914, 926 ~ 936, El. 708 ~ 722, 727 ~ 737, Ion 468–9 ~ 488–9, Hel. 1113 ~ 1128, 1119 ~ 1134, 1314 ~ 1332, 1342 ~ 1358, IA 582, 1049 ~ 1071, 1051 ~ 1073, Hyps. fr. 8/9.10 Bond = E. fr. 753c.16 (J. A. J. M. Buijs, Mnemosyne IV 39 [1986], 70–1).³¹⁶

250–2/261–3 Although the text is basically sound (251b–2, 261–3nn.), one cannot be sure about the metre here. The present colometry was suggested to me by Laetitia Parker. One fully resolved cretic (cf. IT 881), followed by a pendent version of the ‘greater asclepiad’ (hi^2c),³¹⁷ seems less odd than the isolated dochmiac (?) (+ 2 cho ar) in the division of Murray, Ritchie (304–5), Dale (MATC I, 97), Diggle and Kovacs: 250–2 ἔνι δὲ θράσος ἐν αἰχ- / μᾷ· πόθι Μυσῶν ὃς ἐμὰν / συμμαχίαν ἀτίζει; ~ 261–3 ὃς ἐπὶ πόλιν, ὃς ἐπὶ / γᾶν Τροΐαν χιλιόναυν / ἤλυθ᾽ ἔχων στρατείαν. Also, it places first in successive cola the corresponding repetitions ἔνι δὲ … ἐν … and ὃς ἐπὶ … ὃς ἐπὶ … (cf. 249b–51a, 454–66 ‘Metre’ 460–2/826–7nn.). Of other notable approaches, Ritchie (301–4) has made an effective case against Wilamowitz’ ‘enoplion’ in synartesis with two resolved choriambics (GV 583–4), while Dale, in her alternative analysis (MATC I, 97 n. 250–2), prefixes 251–2 ~ 262–3 2cho + ar (i.e. hi^2c) with a peculiar combination of (249 πόλις … τις ~ 260 Ἑλένᾳ κακόγαμβρον) and a resolved glyconic (250 ἔστιν … θράσος ~ 260 ἐς χέρας … πόλιν).³¹⁸ Willink (‘Cantica’, 28–31 = Collected Papers, 567–70) notes the ‘symmetrical sense-pause’ after 249 … ἄλκιμος || ~ 260 … γόον ||, but then needs major textual changes in 250–2 ~ 261–3 to produce a very improbable stretch of ionics.

 

224–6a. Hymns typically open with a series of vocatives, which call upon the respective god by name and one or more titles ‘designating his function, his location, or his descent from other gods’ (FJW on A. Suppl. 524–6 [II, pp. 406–7]; cf. H. Lloyd-Jones, JHS 83 [1963], 85 = Academic Papers II, 174, Furley–Bremer, Greek Hymns I, 52–6). The closest tragic parallel to our strophe is probably Hipp. 61–71. It consists almost entirely of invocations, but the address ‘Artemis’ is also left to a middle position (cf. e.g. Sapph. fr. 1.1–2 Voigt, Anacr. fr. 348.1–3 PMG, [Pi.]^? Ol. 5.17–18, Ar. Pax 974–6), and vocatives with ὦ recur at the end of the ode (231–2n.). References to a god’s location often assume the shape of a relative or participial clause: Il. 1.37–9 κλῦθί μοι, Ἀργυρότοξ᾽, ὃς Χρύσην ἀμϕιβέβηκας / Κίλλάν τε ζαθέην, Τενέδοιό τε ἶϕι ἀνάσσεις, / Σμινθεῦ, Pi. Pyth. 1.39 Λύκιε καὶ Δάλοι᾽ ἀνάσσων Φοῖβε Παρνασσοῦ τε κράναν Kασταλίαν ϕιλέων, [Pi.]^? Ol. 5.17–18, Ant. 1118–25, Hipp. 67–9, Ar. Nub. 596–7 (Norden, Agnostos Theos, 166–76; cf. 224–5, 351b–4nn.). Two of the three traditional epithets here bear a special relationship to the plot (224–5n.).

224–5. Θυμβραῖε: Thymbra, known primarily for its shrine of Thymbraean Apollo (below), is mentioned in Il. 10.430–1 πρὸς Θύμβρης δ᾽ ἔλαχον Λύκιοι Μυσοί τ᾽ ἀγέρωχοι / καὶ Φρύγες ἱππόδαμοι καὶ Μηιόνες ἱπποκο ρυσταί. According to Dionysodorus of Troizen (507b–9a n.) and Strabo (13.1.35 [598 C. 10–11 = III 572 Radt]), it lay on the Scamander, fifty stades (about 9 km) away from classical Troy (i.e. Hisarlık). Hesychius’ ten stades (θ 868 Latte) go back to the belief of Demetrius of Scepsis that Homer’s city occupied the site of the so-called ‘Village of the Ilians’: Demetr. frr. 20–8 Gaede (~ Strabo 13.23–42). Cf. J. M. Cook, The Troad … , Oxford 1973, 117–18.

In pre-Hellenistic Greek Θυμβραῖος recurs only at Rh. 508 Θυμβραῖον ἀμϕὶ βωμὸν ἄστεως πέλας. But it may have featured in lost plays – above all S. Troïlus (frr. 618–35), which dealt with Achilles’ killing of the titular hero by the Thymbraean altar. The story was recounted in the Cypria (Arg. p. 78 (11) GEF), at least alluded to by Ibycus (fr. 224.7–10 PMGF) and became popular with Greek vase-painters early on (Richardson and BK on Il. 24.257).

Δάλιε: The first explicit reference to Delos as the birth-place of Apollo is h.Ap. 14–18,319 although Odysseus’ comparison of Nausicaa’s beauty to that of the Delian palm tree (Od. 6.162–9) already presupposes a cult (Richardson on h.Ap. 16–18). Apollo entered the island around 1000 BC with the Ionian Greeks, but received a major sanctuary only in the second half of the sixth century BC.

Λυκίας / ναὸν ἐμβατεύων: ‘haunting your temple in Lycia’. Cf. Pers. 447–9 νῆσός τίς ἐστι … / … ἣν ὁ ϕιλόχορος / Πὰν ἐμβατεύει ποντίας ἀκτῆς ἔπι, OC 678–80, E. fr. 696.2–3, Cratin. fr. 359 PCG ~ fr. tr. adesp. 185a χαῖρ᾽ ὦ … / Πάν, Πελασγικὸν Ἄργος ἐμβατεύων (LSJ s.v. ἐμβατεύω I with Suppl. [1996]). For such participial (or relative) clauses, giving a god’s favoured abode(s) as part of an invocation, see 224–6a n. and also Barrett on Hipp. 61–71 (p. 170).

Apollo had a famous shrine in Lycian Patara, with an oracle that took over from Delos in the winter months (Hdt. 1.182.2, Verg. Aen. 4.143–4).³²⁰ But the place-name here also evokes his epithet Λύκ(ε)ιος, which already in the first half of the fifth century BC could variously be understood as meaning ‘wolfish’ (< λύκος) or ‘Lycian’ (FJW on A. Suppl. 686 [III, pp. 49–50]).³²¹ Whatever the correct derivation (cf. Nilsson, GGR I³, 536–8, F. Graf, Nordionische Kulte … , Rome 1985, 220–6), it is sufficient to observe that Apollo is called upon to protect ‘Dolon the Wolf’ (note especially 208 λύκειον … δοράν) and that the Lycians (i.e. ‘wolf-men’?) are Trojan allies in both the Iliad and Rhesus : 543–5 ~ 562–4 (nn.). By his conspicuous absence (224–63n.), the god will become λυκοκτόνος to his charge; cf. S. El. 6–7 αὕτη δ᾽, Ὀρέστα, τοῦ λυκοκτόνου θεοῦ / ἀγορὰ Λύκειος (with Finglass), S. H. Steadman, CR 59 (1945), 8, Feickert on 224 (p. 156).

226a. ὦ Δία κεϕαλά: ‘great son of Zeus’ (Morwood). Mantziou’s reinterpretation (Dodone 14 [1985], 100–1) of the transmitted δία (V: δῖα OΛ) is supported by Σ^V Rh. 226 (II 331.24–5 Schwartz = 87 Merro) ὦ ἀπὸ τοῦ Διὸς κεϕαλή. It introduces to the list of Apollo’s titles (224–6a n.) a welcome note on his paternal descent (LSJ s.v. δῖος II ‘of Ζεύς’) and avoids the abnormal application of δῖος in the sense ‘divine, noble’ (LSJ s.v. I) to a higher male god (as opposed to goddesses and illustrious humans of either sex).³²² Yet one cannot but feel that ὦ Δία κεϕαλά stretches the boundaries of Greek idiom. For whereas κεϕαλή (and κάρα) are common in emotional addresses from Homer on (902–3n.), the combination with an epithet denoting physical origin here would seem to put greater stress than usual on the synecdoche. The opening of a second-century AD hymn to Asclepius inscribed in his Athenian sanctuary (IG II² 4514.1–5 σοι λέγω, / Ἀσκληπιὲ Λητοίδου πάι. / πῶς χρύσεον ἐς ἵξομαι / τὸν σόν, μάκαρ ὦ πεποθημένε, / θεία κεϕαλά …) does not necessarily constitute independent evidence. Its author, a certain Diophantos of Sphettos, may have read Rhesus and interpreted ΔΙΑ just as the medieval scribes and most modern scholars did.

The long α in Δία, found also in A. Suppl. 4–5 Δίαν … χθόνα (Seidler: δῖαν M), does not conform to the etymology of the word (< ; cf. Sanskrit divya-, ‘heavenly’), but has a precedent in the ‘hyper-Ionic’ δίη at Hes. Th. 260 and ‘Hes.’ frr. 70.10, 169.2 M.–W. See West, Theogony, 80 and Liapis on 226–7.

226b–8. μόλε … ἱκοῦ: For the imperatives see 370–2a n.

τοξήρης: ‘furnished with your bow’, as, likewise of Apollo, Alc. 34–5 νῦν δ᾽ ἐπὶ τῇδ᾽ αὖ / χέρα τοξήρη ϕρουρεῖς ὁπλίσας. In HF 188 τοξήρη σαγήν and 1062–3 ἔκανε δὲ ψαλμῷ / τέκεα τοξήρει (our only other instances of the word) the suffix -ήρης (< ἀραρίσκω) has lost much of its force (cf. 713b–14n.).

ἐννύχιος: Cf. 44–5 προσέβα … / ἐννύχιος and 501 (501–2n.) … ἔννυχος μολών. ‘Apollo is not a god who comes much by night’ (Klyve on 227; cf. Liapis on 226–7).³²³ There may be a sinister echo of Apollo at Il. 1.47 ὃ δ᾽ ἤϊε νυκτὶ ἐοικώς.

229–30a. ‘… and be a saving guide to the man on his mission …’

The expression is reminiscent of Dionysus’ bitterly ironic address to Pentheus at Ba. 965 ἕπου δέ· πομπὸς ἐγὼ σωτήριος (with Dodds on 963–5). For analogies between Dolon’s and Pentheus’ spying expeditions see 201–23, 201–2, 204, 206nn.

καὶ γενοῦ … / ἁγεμών: Dindorf (PSG¹, xx-xxi = III.2 [1840], 597) corrected the MSS’ ἁγεμὼν… / καὶ γενοῦ (ἁ- Tr²: ἡ- <L^?>P). Similar inversion of line-beginnings occurs at Hel. 680–1 Πάριν … / Κύπρις (Reiske: κύπριν … / πάριν L), IA 448–9 ἅπαντά … / ἄνολβα (Musgrave: ἄνολβα … / ἅπαντα L), 844–5 (FJW on A. Suppl. 309–11 [II, p. 252], Diggle, Euripidea, 493 with n. 12) and maybe OC 1234–5 (but see Ll-J/W, Sophoclea, 252, Second Thoughts, 132). Zanetto alone among recent editors preserves the MSS’ order, writing καὶ πόνου for the then isolated καὶ γενοῦ. Yet apart from his dubious comparison with Med. 946 συλλήψομαι δὲ τοῦδέ σοι κἀγὼ πόνου (apparatus 230, Ciclope, Reso, 143 n. 33), this gives a feeble addition to πομπᾶς (cf. Liapis, ‘Notes’, 58–9) and clumsily juxtaposes word- and sentence-connecting καὶ in 230.

γενοῦ belongs to the language of prayer: Anacr. fr. 357.9–10 PMG, Sept. 128–34, Cho. 1–2 Ἑρμῆ χθόνιε … / σωτὴρ γενοῦ μοι ξύμμαχός τ᾽ αἰτουμένῳ, 18–19, S. El. 1379–81 νῦν δ᾽, ὦ Λύκει᾽ Ἄπολλον … / … γενοῦ πρόϕρων / ἡμῖν ἀρωγὸς τῶνδε τῶν βουλευμάτων, Alc. 223–4, E. Suppl. 628–31.

πομπᾶς: ‘mission, journey’. Our nearest tragic parallel is the syntactically difficult Sept. 613 (ἀνδράσιν …) τείνουσι πομπὴν τὴν μακρὰν πάλιν μολεῖν.

230b. καὶ ξύλλαβε Δαρδανίδαις: Dolon’s venture becomes centrally important to the Trojan cause (149–94, 224–63nn.). ‘The confidence that the god will take his share in fighting or working alongside man is deeply rooted in Greek religious feeling’ (Fraenkel on Ag. 811 [II, p. 373]; cf. Kranz, Stasimon, 68–9).

231–2. The appellations mirror and reinforce those at the beginning of the strophe (224–6a n.). By mentioning Apollo’s service to Laomedon (below), the chorus at once honour the god’s achievement and remind him of his special relationship with Troy.

ὦ … ὦ: For the emphatic repetition cf. 357–8 νῦν, ὦ πατρὶς ὦ Φρυγία, / … νῦν (with 249b–51a n.).

παγκρατές: a poetic epithet of ‘gods and divine or quasi-divine beings’ to express their power (Fraenkel on Ag. 1648). It is mostly used of Zeus (e.g. Bacch. frr. 14 + 57.4–5 Sn.–M., Sept. 255, Eum. 918, A. fr. 168.14–15. . παντοκρα[τ … / Ζ̣ηνί, PV 389, Phil. 679, S. fr. 684.4–5, Ar. Thesm. 368–9), but see Ai. 675 (Sleep), Phil. 986–7 (Hephaestus’ fire), OC 609 (Time), Ar. Thesm. 317 (Athena), Bacch. 11.44 (Hera) and Dith. 3.25–6 (Moira).

Τροΐας / τείχη παλαιὰ δείμας: According to Il. 21.441–57 (see Richardson), Poseidon built the city walls, while Apollo tended Laomedon’s cattle. But the standard version of the tale (already alluded to in Il. 7.452–3)³²⁴ is that both gods participated in the construction work: ‘Hes.’ fr. 235.4–5 M.–W., Pi. Ol. 8.31–52, Andr. 1109–18, Tro. 4–7, Hellanic. FGrHist 4 F 26 (a/b). Occasionally in tragedy Poseidon’s name is omitted in favour of the chief divine supporter of Troy (Tro. 814, 1174, Hel. 1511, Or. 1387–9). Nowhere is there better reason than here.

It may be coincidence that the words most closely resemble Il. 21.446 ἤτοι ἐγὼ Τρώεσσι πόλιν πέρι τεῖχος ἔδειμα (above).

Τροΐας: Lachmann (De choricis systematis, 154–5 n.) for Τροίας (Ω), which spoils metre and responsion. On the form and prosody ( -) see Radt on Pi. Pae. 6.75. In tragedy it is required also at Rh. 262 and 360 (261–3, 360–2a nn.). Ai. 1190 is too corrupt to be certain about Wilamowitz’ Τροΐαν (GV 511) as against Τρωίαν (Ahrens) or the transmitted Τροίαν (see Finglass on 1190).

233–6. ‘May he come to the naval station and arrive as a spy on the Greek army, and may he turn back to the Trojan altars of his father’s house.’

The chorus expand their simple prayer to Hermes in 216–17 (n.) to one for success as well as a safe return (224–63n.). Its first half (233–5a μόλοι … ἵκοιτο) recalls not only Il. 10.562–3 τόν ῥα διοπτῆρα στρατοῦ ἔμμεναι ἡμετέροιο / Ἕκτωρ τε προέηκε, but also 149–50 ~ 154–5 from the preceding epeisodion (224–63n.) and indeed 133–5 τί γὰρ ἄμεινον ἢ ταχυβάταν νεῶν / κατόπταν μολεῖν / πέλας (…); Dolon’s family (235b–6) was praised at 159b–60 (n.).

233–5a. ναυκλήρια: In Dem. 23.211, Plut. Apophth. Lacon. 48.234f and P. Oxy. 87.7 (IV AD) ναυκλήριον is the property of a shipowner (ναύκληρος). Here also it need not mean more than ‘ships’, as ναυκληρία for a single vessel in Hel. 1519 (Ritchie 158; cf. Liapis on 233–6). But the shift to ναύσταθμα (135b–6n.) is possible, given ‘the extended meaning of the root ναυκληρ- found elsewhere in tragedy’ (Mastronarde on Med. 527): A. Suppl. 177, S. fr. 430, Hipp. 1224 ναύκληρος (‘captain, master’), Sept. 652 ναυκληρεῖν (‘command like a ship’s captain’), S. fr. 143.1, Alc. 112, Med. 527, Hel. 1589 ναυκληρία (‘voyage’).

καὶ στρατιᾶς / Ἑλλάδος διόπτας / ἵκοιτο: Apart from Il. 10.562 (cf. 233–6n.), this is our only attestation of διόπτης (-τήρ), ‘spy, scout’, before the imperial period (Plut. Galb. 24.1, D. C. 78.14.1), although Ar. Ach. 435 ὦ Ζεῦ διόπτα (‘through-seer’) καὶ κατόπτα πανταχῇ probably plays on the sense. For the verb cf. Il. 10.449–51 (Odysseus to Dolon) εἰ μὲν γάρ κέ σε νῦν ἀπολύσομεν ἠὲ μεθῶμεν, / ἦ τε καὶ ὕστερον εἶσθα θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν, / ἠὲ διοπτεύσων ἢ ἐναντίβιον πτολεμίξων and Xen. Cyr. 8.2.10.

235b–7. The connection with 216–17 and Dolon’s respected home was pointed out at 233–6n. If he were to die, his father would lose his sole male heir.

κάμψειε πάλιν: Cf. Ba. 1225–6 πάλιν δὲ κάμψας εἰς ὄρος κομίζομαι / τὸν κατθανόντα παῖδα μαινάδων ὕπο – another allusion to Pentheus’ story (201–23, 229–30a nn.)?

θυμέλας: a Euripidean favourite (Suppl. 64, El. 713, Ion 46, 114, 161, 228, IA 152). The original meaning ‘place of fire’ = ‘hearth’ (< θύω) is always traceable and foremost in A. Suppl. 669, IA 152, as well as here (A. S. F. Gow, JHS 32 [1912], 213–38). Other literary (and non-technical) cases are Pratin. fr. 708.2 PMG = TrGF 4 F 3 .2 τίς ὕβρις ἔμολεν ἐπὶ Διονυσιάδα πολυπάταγα θυμέλαν; and Aristonous h.Hestia 16–17 (CA 165 = Furley–Bremer II 38) λιπαρόθρονον / ἀμϕὶ σὰν θυμέλαν (~ Eum. 806 λιπαροθρόνοισιν ἡμένας ἐπ᾽ ἐσχάραις).

: so O. Corruption into (VΛ) was all but inevitable after πατρός (Δ).

238. Φθιάδων δ᾽ ἵππων: Achilles’ team (182–3, 185–8nn.), which is considered feminine, even though the individual horses are male (185n.). Phthia in south-east Thessaly was the home of Peleus and his son.

ἐπ᾽ ἄντυγα: As in Call. Dian. 140–1 καὶ ἄντυγες, αἵ τέ σε ῥεῖα / θηητὴν ϕορέουσιν ὅτ᾽ ἐς Διὸς οἶκον ἐλαύνεις (118n.), ‘chariot’ is the only suitable meaning. Porter (on 118) notes that in all other passages quoted for ‘chariot’ by LSJ s.v. ἄντυξ II 1 (where add Hipp. 1231) ‘the notion ‘chariot-rail’ is to be traced’. Cf. A. Fries, CQ 60 (2010), 345 with n. 3.

239. δεσπότου: Hector. The choice of word ‘underlines the slavish attitude which the guards have towards’ their commander (Klyve on 239). In a military context cf. E. Suppl. 635–7 ᾑρέθην γὰρ ἐν μάχῃ / ἣν οἱ θανόντες ἑπτὰ δεσπόται λόχων / ἠγωνίσαντο ῥεῦμα Διρκαῖον πάρα. Euripides was exceedingly fond of δεσπότης (Ritchie 190, Liapis on 237–41).

Ἀχαιὸν Ἄρη: ‘the Achaean war-might’ – a common tragic metonymy: Pers. 85–6 ἐπάγει δουρικλυτοῖς ἀν- / δράσι τοξόδαμνον Ἄρη (with Garvie on 81–6 [p. 78]), 951, Hcld. 275–6, 290, Andr. 105–6, Phoen. 1081–2, IA 237, 283, 764–5 (Breitenbach 176). See also e.g. Tim. Pers. fr. 791.116–18 PMG = Hordern οὐ γὰρ ἂ[ν οὐδ᾽ / ἄστυ Λύδιον [λι]πὼν Σαρδέων / ἦλθον [Ἕ]λλαν᾽ ἀπέρξων Ἄρ[η (perhaps after Aeschylus).

240–1. τὰς πόντιος Αἰακίδᾳ / Πηλεῖ δίδωσι δαίμων: a minor variation on 187–8 (n.) δίδωσι δ᾽ αὐτὸς πωλοδαμνήσας ἄναξ / Πηλεῖ Ποσειδῶν, ὡς λέγουσι, πόντιος. Cf. 224–63n.

τὰς: 185, 238nn. The ὅ ἥ τό relative (KG I 587–8, SD 642–3, Barrett on Hipp. 525–6) prevents hiatus.

242–4a. ἐπεί: The logical connection is with the preceding prayers for protection by Apollo and complete success. Similarly Med. 759–63 ἀλλά σ᾽ ὁ Μαίας πομπαῖος ἄναξ / πελάσειε δόμοις … / … ἐπεὶ / γενναῖος ἀνήρ, / Αἰγεῦ, παρ᾽ ἐμοὶ δεδόκησαι (cf. 216–17n.).

Such ‘enjambement’ rarely occurs between antistrophe and strophe: Ant. 1137, Tr. 647 and, continuing the main sentence, Sept. 750, Ag. 176, 238 (with Fraenkel), Phil. 707 (FJW on A. Suppl. 49 [II, p. 47]). Cf. the extraordinary ‘choral-lyric’ overrun at 350–1 (348b–51a n.).

πρό τ᾽ οἴκων πρό τε γᾶς: This resumes the patriotic motifs of 151–3 (151n.) and Dolon’s response at 154–5. See 224–63n.

ἔτλα μόνος: Cf. with similar choral praise Alc. 460–3 σὺ γάρ, ὦ μόνα … / σὺ τὸν αὑτᾶς / ἔτλας <ἔτλας> πόσιν … ἀμεῖψαι / … ἐξ Ἅιδα (224–63n.) and, perhaps mildly paratragic, Ar. Thesm. 544–5 … ἥτις μόνη τέτληκας / ὑπὲρ ἀνδρὸς ἀντειπεῖν ὃς …

ναύσταθμα: 135b–6n.

244b–5a. ἄγαμαι / λήματος: ‘I marvel at his courage’. Elsewhere in serious poetry ἄγαμαι + genitive is found only at Alc. 603 σοϕίας ἄγαμαι. In comedy cf. Ar. Ach. 489 ἄγαμαι καρδίας (with Olson), Av. 1744a, Eup. fr. 349 PCG and Phryn. Com. fr. 10.1 PCG. By contrast, λῆμα has an elevated ring (Pi. Pyth. 8.45, Nem. 1.57, Pers. 55, Sept. 447–8, Ag. 123–4, A. fr. 146b + 147). Places like Cyc. 596 πέτρας τὸ λῆμα κἀδάμαντος ἕξομεν, Ar. Nub. 457, Ran. 463 and 898 λῆμα δ᾽ οὐκ ἄτολμον ἀμϕοῖν (‘Aeschylus’ and ‘Euripides’) support rather than discount this impression.

245b–9a. ‘There is always a shortage of good men, when it is sunless on the sea and the city is tempest-tossed.’

The sentiment was perhaps adapted in Verg. Aen. 9.247–50 di patrii, quorum semper sub numine Troia est, / non tamen omnino Teucros delere paratis, / cum talis animos iuvenum et tam certa tulistis / pectora (Introduction, 45).

245b. ἦ σπάνις αἰεὶ: Diggle, after Wilamowitz’ σπάνις ἀεί (apud Murray). The transmitted text (σπάνις Λ: σπανία V² et Σ^V [πανία V]: σπάνια O) does not correspond with 256 μῖμον ἔχων ἐπὶ γαίας. Most editors accept σπανία and change the antistrophe to ἐπὶ γᾶν or ἐπὶ γᾶς with Dindorf (PSG¹, XXI = III.2 [1840], 598). But σπανία, which recurs only at D. S. 24.1.4, Hsch. σ 1402 Hansen and Phot. σ 437 Theodoridis is an improbable lectio difficilior for the usual σπάνις (LSJ s.v. I, II), and γαίας in 256 is otherwise likely to be right (255b–7a n.). Compared to Ritchie’s σπάνις ἐστί (301), Wilamowitz’ solution includes the last letter of the variants and perhaps better prepares for the indefinite ὅταν in 246–7. But certainty is impossible. In any case σπάνια (O) may preserve the original accentuation.

Both wording and sentiment recall Alc. 473–4 τὸ γὰρ (a wife like Alcestis) / ἐν βιότῳ σπάνιον μέρος, again from the first stasimon of that play (cf. 224–63, 242–4a nn.).

ἦ: affirmative, as mainly in poetry (GP 280, G. Wakker, in NAGP, 209–10, 218–23, 229–30).

246–9a. The ‘Ship of State in distress’ (Collard on E. Suppl. 267–9a) is a pervasive metaphor in Greek poetry (and prose).³²⁵ The version here betrays influence from OT 22–4 πόλις γὰρ … ἄγαν / ἤδη σαλεύει κἀνακουϕίσαι κάρα / βυθῶν ἔτ᾽ οὐχ οἵα τε ϕοινίου σάλου (~ Ant. 162–3 ἄνδρες, τὰ μὲν δὴ πόλεος ἀσϕαλῶς θεοί / πολλῷ σάλῳ σείσαντες ὤρθωσαν πάλιν). Ritchie (201–2), as usual, dismisses the connection. But the only other attestation of (or ) in this context is Lys. 6.49 καὶ ἐπιστάμενος ἐν πολλῷ σάλῳ καὶ κινδύνῳ τὴν πόλιν γενομένην, which may in turn have been inspired by Ant. 162–3.

ὅταν ᾖ δυσάλιον: Commentators have long compared Xen. Cyn. 8.1 ὅταν … ᾖ βόρειον. Klyve (on 247) advocates Hutchinson’s δυσαλίῳ. As with δυσάλιος (Λ), however, it would be odd to describe the city as being actually ‘on the sea’. The picture does not tend to be so explicit. For δυσάλιος, ‘sunless’, cf. Eum. 396 δυσάλιον κνέϕας and later Moschio TrGF 97 F 6.5–6 (βροτοί) … δυσηλίους / ϕάραγγας ἐνναίοντες.

249b–52. Dolon is a particularly bad example when it comes to defending the Trojans against the (contemporary) Greek prejudice of oriental ἀνανδρία. We are thus reminded once more that his venture is bound to fail (Feickert on 251).

249b–51a. ἔστι … ἔστιν … / ἔνι … / ἐν: Like Euripides (and to a lesser degree Sophocles) our poet was fond of such emphatic anadiplosis: 231 ὦ … ὦ, 261–2 ὃς ἐπὶ … / ὃς ἐπί, 346–7 ἥκεις … / ἥκεις, 357–8, 385, 396, 535, 579 (n.), 720, 821 (821–3n.), 902–3 (Ritchie 237–9, Willink, ‘Cantica’, 31 with n. 27 = Collected Papers, 570 with n. 27). On the colometry see 224–63 ‘Metre’ 250–2/26 1–3n.

249b. Φρυγῶν: 32n.

250–1a. ‘There is in us courage in battle.’

θράσος: In a positive sense (‘courage’) the tragedians chose freely between θάρσος and θράσος according to metrical convenience, whereas the negative (‘over-boldness, rashness, insolence’) already seems restricted to θράσος (Fraenkel on Ag. 803–4 [II, p. 364], Diggle on Phaeth. 92). The distinction becomes absolute in later Greek.

ἐν αἰχμᾷ should be taken with θράσος, not ἔνι, which would produce the less satisfactory meaning ‘There is courage in our spear-points’. Cf. HF 157–8 ὃ δ᾽ ἔσχε δόξαν … / θηρῶν ἐν αἰχμῇ (with Bond on 158) and 436–7 εἰ δ᾽ ἐγὼ … / δόρυ … ἔπαλλον ἐν αἰχμᾷ. For the attributive use of prepositional phrases see 567–8a n. (πωλικῶν ἐξ ἀντύγων).

251b–2. ‘Where is the Mysian who scorns to have me as an ally?’

πόθι: Hoffmann’s conjecture (NJbbClPh 8 [1862], 598–9) has rightly been approved by most scholars. The scholia (Σ^V Rh. 251 [II 332.4–333.10 Schwartz = 89–90 Merro]) have a long note on the proverb ἔσχατος Μυσῶν (Magn. fr. 5 PCG, Philem. fr. 80 PCG, Pl. Tht. 209b7–8, Men. frr. 54, 153, 658 PCG, Cic. Flacc. 65),³²⁶ which is assumed to lie behind the MSS’ ποτὶ Μυσῶν ὃς … (cf. Σ^V Rh. 252 [II 333.11–14 Schwartz = 90 Merro] ὁ τὴν ἐμὴν συμμαχίαν ἀτίζων … πρὸς Μυσῶν … ἐστὶν ἢ ὡς εἰπεῖν ἔσχατος καὶ οὐδενὸς λόγου ἄξιος. οἷον· Μυσός ἐστιν ὁ ἀτιμάζων ἡμᾶς, ἢ ἀδόκιμος παρὰ τὴν παροιμίαν). But ποτί / πρός + genitive cannot easily be understood in a local sense (‘in the direction of, towards’), unless the context clearly suggests so (W. H. Porter, CQ 11 [1917], 159 – against A. C. Pearson, CQ 11 [1917], 58–9, who had quoted Il. 10.430 πρὸς Θύμβρης δ᾽ ἔλαχον Λύκιοι Μυσοί τ᾽ ἀγέρωχοι and Od. 21.347 οὔθ᾽ ὅσσοι νήσοισι πρὸς Ἤλιδος ἱπποβότοιο [LSJ s.v. πρός A I 2]). The same applies to the use ‘of origin or descent’ (LSJ s.v. πρός A I 5), while ‘on the side of ’ (LSJ s.v. πρός A III 2, where add Rh. 320) does not express a sufficiently close connection, as its advocate Meschini (AFLPad 1 [1976], 177-8) herself seems to feel. With , by contrast, we get a straightforward question of the sort ‘Where’s the Ally now who says we’re not doing our bit?’ (W. H. Porter, CQ 11 [1917], 159). That the Mysians are named as Trojan allies in 541 (540–2n.) does not mean that our poet could not also have alluded to the proverb here (N. Wecklein, NJbbClPh Suppl. n.s. 7 [1873–5], 410–11; cf. A. C. Pearson, CQ 12 [1918], 79). But there is a difference between an open slight and a statement of pride and military competition,³²⁷ which the audience may have interpreted in more than one way.

Homeric πόθι / ποθι for ποῦ / που (Schwyzer 619, 627, 628) is rare in tragedy and always lyric: Ai. 885, Tr. 98, Phoen. [1718–19], Ba. 556.

ἀτίζει: a mainly poetic verb, which after Homer (Il. 20.166 ‘to disregard’) serves as a metrical alternative to ἀτιμάζω (cf. FJW on A. Suppl. 733, Parker on Alc. 1037). Also 327 ὀρθῶς ἀτίζεις κἀπίμομϕος εἶ ϕίλοις (VΛ: ἀτιμάζεις gB: ἔλεξας OgV).

253–5a. πεδοστιβής: ‘earth-treading’ (763b–4a n.), with particular reference to Dolon’s four-footed gait (211b–12, 255b–7a nn.). Similarly A. Suppl. 1000 καὶ κνώδαλα πτεροῦντα καὶ πεδοστιβῆ and E. fr. 472e.17–18 (Cretans) … οὕνεκ᾽ εἰς] πεδοστιβῆ / ῥινὸν καθισ.[ … (i.e. Daedalus’ wooden cow).

οὐτάσει: The epic verb, ‘[o]riginally of wounds inflicted by striking or thrusting’ (Barrett on Hipp. 684), is appropriate in this context.

255b–7a: ‘… as he imitates on the ground a four-footed animal?’

τετράπουν / μῖμον ἔχων ἐπὶ γαίας / θηρός: This lyric echo of 211–12 comes even closer to Hec. 1058–9 τετράποδος βάσιν θηρὸς ὀρεστέρου / τιθέμενος ἐπὶ χεῖρα καὶ ἴχνος (211b–12, 224–63nn.). An early parallel for μῖμος, ‘imitation’, is found in A. fr. 57.8–11 (Edoni) ταυρόϕθογγοι δ᾽ ὑπομυκῶνταί / ποθεν ἐξ ἀϕανοῦς ϕοβεροὶ μῖμοι, / τυπάνου δ᾽ εἰκών, ὥσθ᾽ ὑπογαίου / βροντῆς, ϕέρεται βαρυταρβής (G. F. Else, CPh 53 [1958], 74–6, Ritchie 161), where the further assonance of ὑπογαίου ~ ἐπὶ γαίας suggests that this passage was also in our poet’s mind. The action noun with ἔχω (‘to be engaged in’) follows a familiar pattern: e.g. Il. 9.1 ὣς οἳ μὲν Τρῶες ϕυλακὰς ἔχον, 10.515, Ai. 564 δυσμενῶν θήραν ἔχων (LSJ s.v. ἔχω (A) A I 2 a).

ἐπὶ γαίας: See 245b n. The ‘long’ form γαια- is universally transmitted here (γαίας Λ: γαίᾳ O: γαῖαν V) and appears metri gratia in the similar expression of Alc. 869 ἐπὶ γαίας πόδα πεζεύων (Willink, ‘Cantica’, 29 = Collected Papers, 568). Moreover, corruption of γαια- into γα- or γη- appears to be more frequent (and natural) than the reverse (Denniston on E. El. 678, Kannicht on Hel. 1642–5, where add e.g. Ba. 64 γαίας Bothe: γᾶς Π⁹LP).

257b–60. ‘May he kill Menelaus, may he slay Agamemnon and put his head in Helen’s hands to make her weep for her evil brother-in-law …’

In their final reference to the previous scene (224–63n.), the chorus transfer to the Greek commanders Dolon’s already fantastic boast of 219–22 (219–23n.) σωθήσομαί τοι καὶ κτανὼν Ὀδυσσέως / οἴσω κάρα σοι … / … / ἢ παῖδα Τυδέως. Decapitation of corpses is envisaged, but never carried out in the Iliad (cf. Edwards on Il. 17.38–40, 18.176–7). Klyve (on 260) primarily compares Euphorbus’ threat to Menelaus at Il. 17.36–40 χήρωσας δὲ γυναῖκα μυχῷ θαλάμοιο νέοιο, / ἀρητὸν δὲ τοκεῦσι γόον καὶ πένθος ἔθηκας. / ἦ κέ σϕιν δειλοῖσι γόου κατάπαυμα γενοίμην, / εἴ κεν ἐγὼ κεϕαλήν τε τεὴν καὶ τεύχε᾽ ἐνείκας / Πανθόῳ ἐν χείρεσσι βάλω καὶ Φρόντιδι δίῃ. Several words and phrases there recur in our passage, and like Dolon, Euphorbus is a minor warrior whose overconfidence prefigures an early death (Edwards on Il. 17.51–2 [p. 68]; cf. W. H. Friedrich, Verwundung und Tod in der Ilias … , Göttingen 1956, 58 = Wounding and Death in the Iliad … , London 2003, 45–6, C. Segal, The Theme of the Mutilation of the Corpse in the Iliad, Leiden 1971, 20–1). As with impalement (512–17, 513b–15nn.), it is likely that a (post-)classical audience would have considered such cruelty to the dead more characteristic of barbarians than Greeks (Hall, Inventing the Barbarian, 25–6, 158–9).

Ἀγαμεμνόνιον: 1n. (πρὸς εὐνὰς τὰς Ἑκτορέους).

κακόγαμβρον … γόον: an accusative in apposition to the sentence, describing ‘that in which the action of [the] verb … results’ (Barrett on Hipp. 752–7 ὦ λευκόπτερε Κρησία / πορθμίς, ἃ … / … / ἐπόρευσας ἐμὰν ἄνασσαν ὀλβίων ἀπ᾽ οἴκων / κακονυμϕοτάταν ὄνασιν – very similar, but giving a judgement, not a result). Cf. KG I 284–5, SD 86–7, 617–18 and Diggle, Euripidea, 191–3, 223–4 with many examples (e.g. Il. 11.27–8 ἴρισσιν ἐοικότες, ἅς τε Κρονίων / ἐν νέϕεϊ στήριξε, τέρας μερόπων ἀνθρώπων, Ag. 1419–20, S. El. 964–6, Or. 842–3, 961–2).

κακόγαμβρος is a hapax, which like χιλιόναυς (261–3n.) or the ‘proper name’ adjectives (above) belongs to the class that replace a genitive attribute (KG I 261–2, SD 176–8). It may or may not have been coined for this place. The whole juncture sounds Aeschylean.

261–3. Both syntax and vocabulary betray the influence of IA 173–7 (Ἀχαιῶν … ἡ- / μιθέων), οὓς ἐπὶ Τροίαν / ἐλάταις χιλιόναυσιν / … Μενέλαόν <θ᾽> / … / ἐνέπουσ᾽ Ἀγαμέμνονά τ᾽ … στέλλειν, where the same context (IA 171–3) had already supplied Rh. 48 (n.) ναυσιπόρος στρατιά (A. Fries, CQ n.s. 60 [2010], 348 with n. 16, Introduction, 34, 36). See also below on στρατεία for στρατιά (‘army’).

ὃς ἐπὶ … / ὃς ἐπί: 249b–51a n. Like the object of κτανών (257–8), the antecedent is extracted from Ἀγαμεμνόνιον.

γᾶν : Dindorf (III.2 [1840], 599) for Ω’s Τροίαν (231–2n.). Willink (‘Cantica’, 30 = Collected Papers, 569) objects to the expression ‘Troy land’ instead of ‘Trojan land’. But attribute and apposition are interchangeable with πόλις (Τροία e.g. Od. 11.510, Eum. 457; Τρῳάς Andr. 970, IT 442), and IA 173 ἐπὶ Τροίαν (above) would seem to support our text. For a town giving its name to the surrounding country cf. E. fr. 515.1 (Meleager) Καλυδὼν μὲν ἥδε γαῖα.

χιλιόναυν … στρατείαν: The round number of 1000 ships that went to Troy is first found in Ag. 45 στόλον Ἀργείων χιλιοναύτην (with Fraenkel). To the Euripidean parallel at IA 174 (above) add Andr. 106, IT 139–41 and Or. 351–2. Similarly also IT 10 χιλίων νεῶν στόλον and IA 354–5 νεῶν / χιλίων ἄρχων.

Heath (Notae sive lectiones, 95) corrected the transmitted στρατιάν. The two words tend to be variants in the sense ‘campaign’, ‘but στρατεία = army, expeditionary force is very rare’ (LSJ s.v. στρατεία 5). Significantly, another passage from Iphigeneia in Aulis can be adduced: IA 495 ἴτω στρατεία διαλυθεῖσ᾽ ἐξ Αὐλίδος.

ἤλυθ᾽: 49–51n.

 

264–341. A Shepherd arrives from Mt Ida in order to tell Hector that Rhesus is on his way to Troy. After some initial confusion (264–83), he recounts in great detail the advent of the Thracian lord and his mighty host (284–316). When Hector, angry at Rhesus’ delay, refuses to accept him as an ally, both the chorus-leader and the Shepherd intervene to change his mind (317–41).

If we disregard the parodos (1–5 1n.), this is the first of two unusual messenger scenes in our play, although closer parallels can be found for the Idaean Shepherd (below) than for Rhesus’ tormented charioteer (728–55, 756–803, 804–81, 833–81nn.). Like him, however, the Shepherd remains on stage after delivering his message to assume a small, but decisive, role in advancing the plot (333–41, 334–5, 340–1nn.).

The introductory dialogue is built on Hector’s double misunderstanding of the ‘general announcement’ (264–5, 271–2nn.), which apart from characterising him again as rash and somewhat impatient with his inferiors (267–8, 270nn.; cf. Rosivach 56), seems to have no other purpose than to increase the audience’s expectation of the report. His assumption that – at this time and place – the Shepherd wishes to inform him about the state of his flocks is far from such poignant examples as Hcld. 646–53, Hipp. 1164–5 or Hec. 505–7 (Strohm 270) and would be dismissed as sheer poetic folly, did not the Messenger’s gentle irony (266, 28 1nn.) show it in the appropriate light.328

After the ‘summary report’ (276–7n.) resolving the tension over what has happened, the narrative itself concentrates on the process of Rhesus’ arrival (282–3, 284–6nn.), moving from a mainly aural to a visual mode of description and culminating in the splendid picture of the hero leading his innumerable host (301b–13). While Rhesus’ ‘godlike’ appearance (301) has been adapted from Il. 10.436–41 and particularly such Aeschylean passages as foreshadow the fall of an overconfident warrior (301b–8, 303–4, 305–6a, 306b–8nn.), the Thracian ‘roll-call’ (309–10, 311–13nn.) appears to owe something also to the catalogue of Xerxes’ forces in the parodos of Persians (1–64 + 65–139). Like Rhesus’ army they are vast and terrifying to behold – and doomed with him to a disastrous end (cf. Introduction, 34).

In general, Strohm (270–1) compares the Herdsman from Mt. Cithaeron in Bacchae (660–774), who with the Theban women’s Dionysiac frenzy reports an event not yet completed behind the scene. Both messengers see divine forces at work, and several verbal echoes of the Herdsman’s speech (Ba. 677–774) and Pentheus’ immediate reaction to it (Ba. 778–86) support the link (cf. 287–9, 301b–2, 303–4, 311–13, 327–8nn.). Unfortunately, too little of Sophocles’ Poimenes is left to determine how much the Goatherd and his announcement of Cycnus (S. frr. 502–4) influenced our poet’s concept of the scene (Introduction, 33 with n. 46). The probably interpolated messenger-speech at IA 414–39, which proclaims the approach of Clytaemestra and Iphigeneia to the Greek camp, may or may not be later than Rhesus.

Within the play the scene looks both ahead and back. Apart from introducing Rhesus as a semi-divine warrior prince (301b–8, 301b–2nn.) and Trojan answer to Achilles (314–16, 335nn.), it gives a foretaste of the agon (388–526n.) and later quarrels between Trojans and allies in Hector’s dispute with the coryphaeus and Shepherd about Rhesus’ status at Troy (276–7, 319–26, 333–41nn.). Yet the episode also recalls the way Hector let himself be persuaded by Aeneas and the chorus to dispatch a scout instead of attacking the Greeks at once (333–4 1n.). He gives in to reason, or what appears to be such, too fast to be fully convincing as the commander-in-chief (H. D. F. Kitto, YCS 25 [1977], 335, 336; cf. Rosivach 55, 56–60, 61).

 

264–5. As good tidings are rare in tragedy, this ‘general announcement’ (1–51, 264–341nn.) is best compared to Hcld. 784–5 δέσποινα, μύθους σοί τε / κλύειν ἐμοί τε τῷδε καλλίστους , where probable remedies are Hartung’s … σοί τε καλλίστους ϕέρω / κλύειν ἐμοί τε συντομωτάτους λέγειν or Wecklein’s … σοί τε καλλίστους ϕέρω / κλύειν λέγειν τε τῷδε συντομωτάτους. The Shepherd’s joviality may be a veiled request for a reward, which would be exceptional coming in his very first words (cf. Wilkins on Hcld. 784–7). The sentiment itself is the reverse of the fear of punishment for bringing bad news (49–5 1n.).

οἷά σοι ϕέρω μαθεῖν: With an object signifying the content of the message, ϕέρω alone often means ‘bring news of, report’: Pers. 248 καὶ ϕέρει σαϕές τι πρᾶγος ἐσθλὸν ἢ κακὸν κλυεῖν, Sept. 40, Ag. 638–9, Ai. 789–90, Ant. 1172, Phoen. 1072–3, 1337, IA 1536–7 (LSJ s.v. ϕέρω A IV 4). Contrast 272 ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲν ἧσ σόν σο ι ϕέρω κε δνοὺς s.v. A IV 4). Contrast 272 λόγους.

266. πόλλ᾽ … σκαιά: Cf. 271 σκαιοὶ βοτῆρές ἐσμεν. ‘Euripides uses σκαιός far more than the other tragedians’ (Bond on HF 283). Applied to persons, the adjective – properly ‘left, on the left hand’ (LSJ s.v. I) – has a range of figurative meanings, which Bond defines as (a) aesthetically repulsive, (b) intellectually stupid, (c) morally deficient, and (d) socially ‘ignorant’. Hector accuses the Shepherd of (b) and (d), while the latter is prepared to admit only to (b). He may be uneducated, but he knows that it is both the right time and occasion for the news he brings (271–2, 275–7).

ἀγρώσταις: ‘countrymen, peasants’, as in 287 and e.g. A. fr. 46c.5 (Diktyoulkoi?), S. frr. 94 (Alexandros), 314.39 (Ichneutae) [. . . . . . εἴτ᾽ (ἀγρωστή[ρων τις ἢ suppl. Wilamowitz, ἀγρώστη[ς ἤ τις ὤν Vollgraff), HF 377 (with Bond). Some read ἀγρώταις (V et Tr^2/3) in our passage. This ‘regular’ form (cf. Schwyzer 451–2, DELG s.v. ἀγρός col. 2) is attested in Hdn. I 74.19–75.1 Lentz, Steph. Byz. α 49 Billerbeck (= Hdn. II 292.8–9 Lentz) and Ba. 564 σύναγεν θῆρας ἀγρώτας (LP: ἀγρώστας Blaydes; cf. Anaxil. fr. 12.2 PCG). But the unanimous paradosis in 287 (above) as well as most other passages that have the word suggests that ἀγρώστ- (O<L>P) is what our poet wrote. Q’s ἀγρόταις (cf. Or. 1270, where ἀγρότας is required by metre) does not scan.

The double dative ἀγρώσταις … ϕρενί follows the σχῆμα καθ᾽ ὅλον καὶ μέρος (KG I 289–90, SD 81, 189–90 n. 5, Diggle, Euripidea, 365 n. 4).

πρόσκειται: ‘belongs to, is attached to’. Of permanent qualities e.g. Ant. 1242–3 δείξας ἐν ἀνθρώποισι τὴν ἀβουλίαν / ὅσῳ μέγιστον ἀνδρὶ πρόσκειται κακόν, Hipp. 970 τὸ δ᾽ ἄρσεν αὐτοὺς ὠϕελεῖ προσκείμενον (with Barrett on 966–70), fr. tr. adesp. 1b (b) βραχεῖ λόγῳ δὲ πολλὰ πρόσκειται σοϕά (LSJ s.v. πρόσκειμαι III 1).

267–70. Hector’s ‘proof’ for the preceding statement – καὶ γὰρ σύ … (GP 66–7, 108) – mocks the Shepherd with deliberately pompous speech (267–8, 270nn.).

267–8. ποίμνας … ἀγγελῶν: ‘bring news of …’ (LSJ s.v. ἀγγέλλω I 3). Porter (on 268) notes the epic touch in ἀγγέλλω with the bare accusative of ‘person’, comparing Od. 14.122–3 οὔ τις κεῖνον ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθών / ἀγγέλλων πείσειε γυναῖκά τε καὶ ϕίλον υἱόν (+ 14.120 εἴ κέ μιν ἀγγείλαιμι ἰδών) ‘The distinction of usage’ may be clearer than Ritchie (182) feels and contribute to Hector’s elevated style (267–70n.).

δεσπόταις τευχεσϕόροις: In contrast to Cho. 627 ἐπ᾽ ἀνδρὶ τευχεσϕόρῳ (Agamemnon), E. Suppl. 654 τευχεσϕόρον … λαόν and Rh. 3 (2–3n.) τευχοϕόρων, the adjective here has a pregnant sense: ‘… when they are in full arms’ (Jouan 63 n. 71). The juxtaposition of the phrase with ποίμνας is ironic.

270. γεγωνεῖν: ‘tell out, proclaim’(LSJ s.v. γέγωνα 3) with accusative and participle, on the analogy of ἀγγέλλω and its kind (KG II 52–3, 72, SD 394, 395, 397). Again both verb and construction are intentionally grand (Porter on 270; cf. 267–70n.).

εὐτυχοῦντα ποίμνια: The flocks are prospering, just as the Trojans are currently thought to be (52–84, 665–7nn.). O’s ποιμνίων looks like a correction by someone who took σ᾽ as the subject of εὐτυχοῦντα. The genitive of respect with εὐτυχέω is late (LSJ s.v. I 1).

271–2. As he was misunderstood by Hector, the Shepherd repeats his ‘general announcement’ (264–5n.), but not clearly enough to resolve the matter. No parallel exists for this technique being used mainly to build up tension through delay (264–34 1n.).

271. Liapis (on 271–2) aptly compares the ‘concessive’ Men. Georg. fr. 5.1 Sandbach εἰμὶ μὲν ἄγροικος, καὐτὸς οὐκ ἄλλως ἐρῶ.

σκαιοὶ βοτῆρές ἐσμεν: 266n.

οὐκ ἄλλως λέγω: 164n. The second person (λέγεις VΛ) is pointless here.

272. ἀλλ᾽᾽ … σοι ϕέρω κεδνοὺς λόγους: Cf. 264–5n. (οἷά σοι ϕέρω μαθεῖν).

273–4. ‘Stop telling me about the state of your farmyard! We bear in our hands (the burden of) battles and spears.’

παῦσαι λέγων: Euripides alone of the tragedians employs ‘the imperative παῦσαι with a participle in a sharp prohibition’ (Ritchie 253): Alc. 707, Hipp. 706 παῦσαι λέγουσα …, IT 1437, Ion 1410, Or. 1625, Ba. 809 … σὺ δὲ παῦσαι λέγων, IA 496, E. fr. 188.2. With a genitive note especially E. El. 1123 = Ion 650 παῦσαι λόγων τῶνδ᾽ … As a part of everyday speech (presumably), the idiom is frequent in comedy.

τὰς προσαυλείους τύχας: 270n. προσαύλειος (‘near to / in reference to the farmyard’) is a hapax. On the formation see SD 517 (5).

μάχας πρὸ χειρῶν καὶ δόρη βαστάζομεν: Our poet may have had in mind E. El. 695–6 ϕρουρήσω δ᾽ ἐγώ / πρόχειρον ἔγχος χειρὶ βαστάζουσ᾽ ἐμῇ and IA 35–6 δέλτον … / τήνδ᾽ ἣν πρὸ χερῶν ἔτι (Introduction, 34). In itself, however, (a poetic verb in archaic and classical Greek) is usual of weapons: Alc. 40, Her-mipp. fr. 47.1–2 PCG βασιλεῦ σατύρων, τί ποτ᾽ οὐκ ἐθέλεις / δόρυ βαστάζειν (…); Men. Epit. 324, Theoc. 16.78 ἤδη βαστάζουσι Συρακόσιοι μέσα δοῦρα (with Gow on 16.78–9), Plb. 2.24.16, D. H. 8.64.3. The object μάχας here is prefixed by slight zeugma (cf. KG II 570–1, SD 710).

πρὸ χειρῶν goes with βαστάζομεν (above). Similarly also Ant. 1279 τὰ μὲν πρὸ χειρῶν τάδε ϕέρεις (… κακά), Tro. 1207–8 καὶ μὴν πρὸ χειρῶν αἵδε σοι σκυλευμάτων / Φρυγίων ϕέρουσι κόσμον ἐξάπτειν νεκρῷ.

δόρη: This accusative plural (instead of δόρατα) is previously attested in A. fr. 74.7 and Theopomp. Com. fr. 26 PCG. It seems to be an Attic formation, by false analogy as from an s-stem; cf. ΣΣ^{V ~ L} Rh. 274 (II 333.21–2, 30–1 Schwartz = 91 a¹, a² Merro) ἀπὸ γενικῆς τῆς δόρεος καὶ δόρεα καὶ δόρη ὡς βέλεα βέλη. The occurrence in tragedy of a dative singular δόρει (< *δόρεϝι) probably helped: A. frr. 99.20 (Π: δορί Wecklein), 129 and, metri gratia restored for δορί, A. Suppl. 846, OC 620, 1314, 1386. Cf. Call. Aet. fr. 137a.10 Harder . . . . . ]αιανι .[.]ν ἦν ὑπὸ πάντα δόρ̣ε[ι].

As in the Theopompus fragment (= Poll. VII 158), some sources here wrongly read δόρυ (OQgE).

275. τοιαῦτα: i.e. information relating to warfare (Paley).

276–7. ‘For a man who commands an army of vast might is approaching, a friend to you and an ally to this land.’

The Shepherd’s ‘report in brief’ (1–51, 264–341nn.) shares several words with Or. 688–90 ἥκω γὰρ ἀνδρῶν συμμάχων κενὸν δόρυ / ἔχων, πόνοισι μυρίοις ἀλώμενος, / σμικρᾷ σὺν ἀλκῇ τῶν λελειμμένων ϕίλων – especially ἀλκή (‘armed might’) and μυρίος, which stand together here (Klyve on 276). The result is the opposite of what is being said (or claimed) by Menelaus in a context that seems comparable enough to have caused the echo (A. Fries, CQ n.s. 60 [2010], 350, Introduction, 37).

ἀλκῆς: Apart from Or. 688–90 (above), note Or. 711–12 ἀλκῇ δέ σ᾽ οὐκ ἄν, ᾗ σὺ δοξάζεις ἴσως, / σώσαιμ᾽ ἄν and e.g. Hdt. 4.132.1 εἰκάζων … τοὺς δὲ ὀϊστοὺς ὡς τὴν ἑωυτῶν ἀλκὴν παραδιδοῦσι. Δ’s ἀρχῆς presumes a meaning not found until the Septuagint (LSJ s.v. II 5 ‘command, i.e. body of troops’).

στρατηλατῶν here governs a genitive, as in HF 61 στρατηλατήσας κλεινὰ Καδμείων δορός. With a dative cf. E. El. 321, 917, Ba. 52.

ϕίλος σοι σύμμαχός τε τῇδε γῇ introduces the main point of conflict in the relationship between Hector and Rhesus (264–341n.). For the expression cf. Ai. 1052–3 ὁθούνεκ᾽ αὐτὸν ἐλπίσαντες οἴκοθεν / ἄγειν Ἀχαιοῖς ξύμμαχόν τε καὶ ϕίλον.

278. πατρῴας γῆς … πέδον: Cf. S. fr. 202 ἀλλ᾽ ὦ πατρῴας γῆς ἀγυιαίου πέδον, E. fr. 558.1–2 Ὦ γῆς πα τρῴ ας χαῖρε ϕίλτατον πέδον / , E. fr. 558.1-2 / Καλυδῶνος and also Ag. 503 πατρῷον οὖδας Ἀργείας χθονός. The periphrasis γῆς … πέδον is typical of tragedy (FJW on A. Suppl. 316 [II, p. 255], where add Hel. 525). Our only comic example (Ar. Nub. 573) occurs in a high-flown cletic hymn. Similarly 962 (n.).

ἐρημώσας: With πέδον cf. Andr. 314 κεἰ μὴ τόδ᾽ ἐκλιποῦσ᾽ ἐρημώσεις πέδον (of a sacred precinct). Here the verb suggests that the leader of the enormous army has left his country ‘empty’ of young men (cf. Pers. 718 θούριος Ξέρξης, κενώσας πᾶσαν ἠπείρου πλάκα) and so unprotected in case of war. Rhesus fought regular battles with neighbouring tribes (406–11, 426–35, 932–3).

279. πατρὸς δὲ Στρυμόνος κικλήσκεται: ‘He is called the son of Strymon’, with a genitive of origin, as in e.g. Pi. Pyth. 3.67 Λατοΐδα κεκλημένον ἢ πατέρος, Ar. Vesp. 151 ὅστις πατρὸς νῦν Καπνίου κεκλήσομαι, Rh. 298 … καὶ τίνος κεκλημένος, Theoc. 24.103–4, Hdt. 6.88 (KG I 374–5, SD 124). On the river-god Strymon (instead of Eioneus in Iliad 10) as Rhesus’ father see 348–54, 386, 394, 919–31 and Introduction, 13 with n. 10. The present clause is repeated by interpolation, it seems, in 652 (n.).

280. Ῥῆσον: This is the first mention of Rhesus in our play.

τιθέντ᾽ ἔλεξας ἐν Τροίᾳ πόδα: In poetry (and very rarely prose) verbs of saying may take a participle instead of the infinitive if the statement is marked as a fact (KG II 72 n. 2, SD 394). τιθέντ᾽ … πόδα here bears the strong sense ‘is setting foot (in Troy)’, for which cf. A. Suppl. 31–2 πρὶν πόδα χέρσῳ τῇδ᾽ ἐν ἀσώδει / θεῖναι (from a ship), Ag. 906–7 μὴ χαμαὶ τιθείς / τὸν σὸν πόδ᾽ … πορθήτορα and, of movements in fighting and/or dance, Eum. 294–5 (with Sommerstein on 292–6), Ba. 862-4. Part of this can also still be felt at Rh. 571 (n.) κἀν σκότῳ τιθεὶς πόδα, while elsewhere in Euripides the idiom has become a mere periphrasis for ‘walk’: Andr. 545–6, Suppl. 171–2 (with Collard), IT 32–3, Hel. 1528, Phoen. [1721], E. fr. 124.2–5 ~ Ar. Thesm. 1099–1101.

O’s εἰς Τροίαν is a simplifying error (perhaps from a gloss). The pregnant construction of ἐν with dative and a verb of motion signifies ‘both motion to and subsequent position in a place’ (LSJ s.v. ἐν A I 8; cf. KG I 540–2, SD 155–6, 455–6, 457).

281. ‘Exactly. You have spared me an explanation twice as long.’

The Shepherd’s laconic reply appears to mock both Hector’s earlier failure to understand and the usual desire of tragic messengers to convey their news as quickly and succinctly as possible (cf. Hcld. 784–5 [quoted in 264–5n.], Collard on E. Suppl. 638b–40).329 One may compare the Servant at E. El. 770 τέθνηκε· δίς σοι ταὔθ᾽, ἃ γοῦν βούλῃ, λέγω, following Electra’s suspicious questions about his identity and the credentials of his report (765). No such irony applies to Ag. 628–9 ἔκυρσας ὥστε τοξότης ἄκρος σκοποῦ, / μακρὸν δὲ πῆμα ξυντόμως ἐϕημίσω, where Agamemnon’s trusted Herald confirms that Menelaus was caught in a storm.

ἔγνως (literally ‘you have got it’) is frequent in Euripides: Andr. 881–3, 920, El. 617, Ion 1115, Phoen. 983, Or. 1131. But cf. Tr. 1221, Nausicr. fr. 1.5 PCG – Γλαῦκον λέγεις. – ἔγνωκας < > and also A. Suppl. 467 ξυνῆκας and Or. 752 αἰσθάνῃ. In general Ritchie 253–4.

δὶς τόσου: 159b–60n.

282–3. ‘And how is it that he has strayed from the broad highway in the plain and is coming towards the pasture-lands of Mt. Ida?’

Messenger-speeches tend to be triggered by a πῶς-question (or the like), as the addressee wishes to know how the fact already reported came to pass (Kannicht on Hel. 597–604, de Jong, Narrative in Drama, 32–4; cf. e.g. Pers. 446 ποίῳ μόρῳ δὲ τούσδε ϕῂς ὀλωλέναι; Tr. 884–7, Med. 1134 λέξον δέ· πῶς ὤλοντο; Hipp. 1171). Our poet here skilfully varies the scheme. While it would be senseless to enquire into the manner of Rhesus’ coming (276–7), the question about his detour via Mt. Ida offers itself as a starting-point for the Shepherd’s colourful report (284–6n.).

καὶ πῶς πρὸς ὀργάδας πορεύεται, / πλαγχθεὶς πλατείας πεδιάδος θ᾽ ἁμαξιτοῦ; The π(λ)-alliteration is remarkable, although no special purpose seems to be intended. Ritchie (241–2) compares 139 (?), 286, 393, 545 and, as a rhetorical exception, 383–4 (n.) κλύε καὶ κόμπους κωδωνοκρότους / παρὰ πορπάκων κελαδοῦντας.

πρὸς ὀργάδας: Chantraine (DELG s.v. ὀργή) defines ὀργάς (sc. γῆ) as ‘terre grasse, humide et fertile, mais qui en général n’est pas cultivé’ (cf. Harpocr. I 224.13–14 Dindorf ὀργὰς καλεῖται τὰ λοχμώδη καὶ ὀρεινὰ χωρία καὶ οὐκ ἐπεργαζόμενα). The word, which also came to denote sacred land, is first attested towards the end of the fifth century: IG I² 325.18 (414/13 BC), E. El. 1163–4 ὀρεία τις … λέαιν᾽ ὀργάδων / δρύοχα νεμομένα, Ba. 340 … ἐν ὀργάσιν and 445 … πρὸς ὀργάδας (Fraenkel, Rev. 234).

πεδιάδος: In view of 286 κλυόντα πλήρη πεδία πολεμίας χερός, ‘in the plain’ (LSJ s.v. πεδιάς II) is preferable to ‘flat, level’ (LSJ s.v. I). Cf. the plain’ (LSJ s.v. II) is preferable to ‘flat, level’ (LSJ s.v. I). Cf. Ant. 417–20 καὶ τότ᾽ ἐξαίϕνης χθονός / τυϕὼς ἀγείρας σκηπτόν … / πίμπλησι πεδίον, πᾶσαν αἰκίζων ϕόβην / ὕλης πεδιάδος.

θ᾽ ἁμαξιτοῦ: Stiblinus for τ᾽ ἀμαξιτοῦ (ΔL: ἁμαξίτοις Q). The unaspirated form would be archaic (Wackernagel, Sprachliche Untersuchungen 46, B. Forssman, Untersuchungen zur Sprache Pindars, Wiesbaden 1966, 8–11; cf. West, ed. Iliad, XVII). It is partly transmitted also at OT 716 and 730.

284–6. ‘I do not know for sure. But I can make a guess. It is no small matter to bring an army into the country by night, when one has heard that the plain is full of enemy troops.’

Just as Hector does not ask a typical ‘πῶς-question’ (282–3n.), the Shepherd’s reply only superficially resembles the general statement with which many, especially non-Euripidean, messengers introduce their account: e.g. Sept. 39–40 Ἐτεόκλεες … / ἥκω σαϕῆ τἀκεῖθεν ἐκ στρατοῦ ϕέρων, 375–6, Ai. 719, S. El. 680 (with Finglass on 680, 681), , 375-6, Ai. 719, S. El. 680 (with Finglass on 680, 681), OT 1237–40, Ant. 407, 1192–5, Tr. 749, OC 1586, Hcld. 799, Phoen. 1356–7, 1427. The result is a more natural transition to the narrative than usual – comparable to Ant. 248–77, where the Guard cannot tell who buried Polynices (248–52), but proceeds to describe the discovery and consequences of the deed (253–77).

Diggle (Euripidea, 515) is wrong to criticise the passage as ‘illogical’, for (in the reverse order of his arguments) 1. γάρ in 285 does not explain οὐκ οἶδ᾽ ἀκριβῶς (284), but follows ‘an expression denoting the giving … of information’ (GP 59; cf. 285n.), 2. that Rhesus ‘has heard that the plain is full of enemy troops’ (286) belongs to the Shepherd’s inference and need not be true (although in fact it is: 390–2, 396–403, 444–53) and 3. Rhesus may have ‘borne the troubles of a night-time arrival with a very light heart’,³³⁰ but the Shepherd does not know this, nor will we miss information about Rhesus’ actual reasons for coming via Mt. Ida (a convenient place to meet such an enthusiastic messenger). It is thus neither necessary nor desirable to read intransitive ἐσβαλεῖν in 285 and refer the sentence to the frightened Shepherd (‘For it is no small matter to come upon an army by night …’). Yet with στρατόν as the object (‘to bring in an army’) the verb may still be right (285n.).

284. οὐκ οἶδ᾽ ἀκριβῶς·· εἰκάσαι γε μὴν πάρα: Cf. 800–3 καὶ ξυμϕορὰν μὲν οἶδ᾽ ὁρῶν, τρόπῳ δ᾽ ὅτῳ / τεθνᾶσιν οἱ θανόντες οὐκ ἔχω ϕράσαι /… εἰ κάσαι δέ μοι / πάρεστι. In contrast to the Charioteer, however, the Shepherd lacks precise knowledge only about some subsidiary fact, and his speculations serve no purpose beyond this speech.