reinforces the first
and so the character of the whole clause as the conclusion to be drawn from the previously observable ‘signs’ (GP 213–14, G. Wakker, Conditions and Conditionals …, Amsterdam 1994, 351 n. 100 = NAGP, 216 n. 17). Similarly e.g. Pers. 433–4 αἰαῖ,
/
(the Queen upon hearing about the battle of Salamis), Sept. 655, Ar. Thesm. 1227–9, Eccl. 1163.
καί τις προδρόμων ὅδε γ᾽ ἐστὶν ἀστήρ: Musgrave (Exercitationes, 95 ~ II [1778], on 538) for the MSS’ (Δ:
423 The phrase probably echoes Ion fr. 745 PMG ἀοῖον
/
μείναμεν, ἀελίου /
Bentley) πρόδρομον, the beginning of a dithyramb well enough known to be alluded to in Ar. Pax 835–7. For πρόδρομος, ‘precursor’, cf. also Ar. fr. 346.1 PCG
and Eub. fr. 75.13 PCG
ἄριστον (LSJ s.v. I 3). In other tragedy the adjective tends to mean ‘rushing forward’: Sept. 80 (with Hutchinson), 211, Ant. 108. The Herald at IA [424–5]
δὲ πρόδρομος … /
combines the notions of speed and advance movement.
Again the star in question is not specified (cf. 527–30, 534nn.), but as in Ion fr. 745 PMG (above), Venus presents itself.
538–45. With a view to naming the overdue relief contingent, the chorus now recall the rota of night watches as established by lot (543–5n.). The transmitted speaker distribution in this lively anapaestic dialogue, which roughly corresponds to 557–64 (n.), largely coincides with what can be deduced from the text. Division into semi-choruses would be the most economic solution, but utterances by up to four individual choreutae cannot be ruled out (Liapis on 538–45).
The generally accepted order of night-watches, already advocated by Aristarchus (ΣV Rh. 540 [II 341.15–16 Schwartz = 107 Merro]),424 is 1. Paeonians, 2. Cilicians, 3. Mysians, 4. Trojans, 5. Lycians. There is hardly a problem in transferring the leadership of Mygdon’s son Coroebus from the Phrygians to the Paeonians (539n.), nor does the fact that the Cilicians are not said to have roused the Mysians affect our understanding of the passage (Feickert on 538–45). Crates of Mallus, by contrast, who assigns the first watch to the Phrygians (οἱ Κόροιβον), the second to the Paeonians and then equates the Cilicians with the Mysians for the third (ΣV Rh. 5 [II 326.13–327.4 Schwartz = 78.7–15 Merro]425 = Crates fr. 88.21–30 Broggiato), is severely criticised in the remaining ΣV Rh. 5 (II 327.4–15 Schwartz = 78.15–27 Merro). Even apart from the erroneous reference to the Mysians of Thrace (Il. 13.4–7) – Crates meant the Anatolian branch (Il. 2.858–61) located near the Homeric Cilicians around Thebe (Il. 6.395–7, 414–16) – one does not see why our poet should have confused these peoples (540–2n.) or, if he did, why he expressed himself in such unclear terms. Moreover, a guard turn taken by the Phrygians under Coroebus would contradict their identification with the Trojans elsewhere in Rhesus (32n.).
Except for the Cilicians, who do not play an important part in the Iliad (540–2n.), all the Trojan allies here are also mentioned in Il. 10.428–31
Κᾶρες καὶ Παίονες
/ καὶ
καὶ Καύκωνες δῖοί τε
· /
δ᾽ ἔλαχον
Μυσοί
/ καὶ Φρύγες
καὶ Μῃόνες ἱπποκορυσταί. Dolon’s list again largely ‘tallies with that of the ‘middle distant’ allies named in the Trojan Catalogue’ (Hainsworth on Il. 10.428–31; cf. Il. 2.840–77, Rh. 539, 540–2, 543–5nn.).
ΣV Rh. 5 (II 326.7–10 Schwartz = 77.1–78.4 Merro) records a set of five night watches already for Stesichorus (fr. 268 PMGF) and, depending on the reconstruction of the text, also Simonides (fr. 644 PMG = 317 Poltera), while Homer divided night and day into three parts: Il.
10.252–3 δὲ
νύξ / τῶν
μοιράων,
δ᾽ ἔτι μοῖρα
(cf. ΣA Il. 10.252 [III 48.16–49.1 Erbse]
γὰρ
καθ᾽
),426 Od. 12.312, 14.483, Il. 21.111
ἠὼς
δειέλη ἢ μέσον ἦμαρ. In real life the number of shifts probably depended on the circumstances (e.g. Xen. Cyr. 5.3.44, Aen. Tact. 1.8, 22.4–5), but four are specially attested (Aen. Tact. 18.21, Arr. An. 5.24.2, Curt. 7.2.19) and became standard in the Roman army (Prop. 4.4.63–4, Veget. Epit. rei mil. 3.8.17; cf. Plin. N.H. 10.21.47).
538. ‘Who was summoned to take the first watch’?
has been variously derived from (a) κηρύσσω τινί τι, which in the passive retains its accusative object, while the dative of the person is turned into a nominative (KG I 125, SD 241; cf. Thuc. 1.126.11 οἱ
ἐπιτετραμμένοι
ϕυλακήν); or (b) κηρύσσω τινά with an accusative of direction (
ϕυλακήν), analogous to e.g. Il. 2.51 (~ 443) κηρύσσειν ἀγορήνδε (πόλεμόνδε)
κομόωντας
and 10.195 Ἀργείων βασιλῆες, ὅσοι κεκλήατο βουλήν (LSJ s.v.
II 1 with Suppl. [1996]). The first construction is unparalleled with κηρύσσω, but may still be easier than the second, since in order to serve as a ‘goal of motion’,
should carry a notion of place, as do ἀγορή,
and
above (cf. BK on Il. 2.51). This, however, does not apply here where the order, not the position, of the watches is at issue.
Dobree’s (Adversaria II [1833], 87 = IV [1874], 84), taken as middle in sense (cf. Schwyzer 760–1, Wackernagel, Vorlesungen über Syntax I, 137–9 = Lectures on Syntax, 179–81), would reduce the linguistic difficulty. But the error would be hard to explain in this context, which also favours the paradosis on independent grounds: the
(implied in the verb) probably oversaw the drawing of the lots (cf. Il. 7.181–9) and subsequently proclaimed its result (Liapis on 538).
539. Μυγδόνος υἱόν … Κόροιβον: Coroebus first appears in the Little Iliad (fr. 24 GEF = Paus. 10.27.1, describing Polygnotus’ murals in the Cnidian Lesche at Delphi). He came to Troy to marry Cassandra (cf. Verg. Aen. 2.341–6) and died fighting within the city walls, at the hands of varying Greek heroes. His father Mygdon ruled over the Phrygians (Il. 3.184–9), whom according to Pausanias (10.27.1) the poets called ‘Mygdones’ after him. In view of his non-Greek name (von Kamptz, Homerische Personennamen, 135, 328–9) and the ‘conspicuous’ tomb he possessed near Stektorion (Paus. 10.27.1), it would not have been difficult to regard him as the eponym of Mygdonia on the south coast of the Propontis (cf. Horsfall on Verg. Aen. 2.342). The original branch of the Thracian tribe which gave the region its name settled east of the river Axius, whence Mygdon’s son could have become the leader of the neighbouring Paeonians (Vater on 526 [p. 208]; cf. Ammendola on 538–39 and Porter on 539).
As another late ally unable to save Troy, Coroebus bears some similarity to Rhesus and may thus have been brought in here against chronology.
540–2. τίς γὰρ ἐπ᾽ αὐτῷ; For this use of ‘progressive’ γάρ in a question, by which the speaker, ‘having been satisfied on one subject, wishes to learn something further’ (GP 81), cf. e.g. Ag. 630–1, Ai. 99–101 (Ἀθ.) ἅνδρες,
τὸ σὸν ξυνῆκ᾽ ἐγώ. / (Αι.) θανόντες
τἄμ᾽
ὅπλα. / (Αθ.) εἶἑν· τί γὰρ
ὁ τοῦ
; IT 531–3, Ar. Av. 298–9 (GP 82–3). The general force of the particle appears to be resultative: ‘Because so-and-so is the case, I now ask …’ (KG II 335–6).
Κίλικας probably refers to (or would have been taken to refer to) the historical Cilicians of south-eastern Asia Minor, not the small Iliadic people inhabiting the Adramyttian plain (Il. 6.395–7). Despite Hector’s marriage to Andromache, the daughter of their king Eetion, they are never mentioned as Trojan allies and get sad prominence only as victims of one of Achilles’ raids (especially Il. 1.366–9, 6.414–28; cf. Kirk on 6.395–7) .
Παίων / στρατός: Under a different leader, this host is introduced at Il. 2.848–50 αὐτὰρ Πυραίχμης ἄγε Παίονας /
Ἀμυδῶνος,
εὐρὺ ῥέοντος, / Ἀξιοῦ,
ἐπικίδναται αἶαν. Pyraichmes falls in battle with Patroclus (Il. 16.287–8) and is replaced by Asteropaios, who claims the river Axius as his grandfather (Il. 21.140–3, 157–60) and puts up a remarkable fight with Achilles (Il. 21.139–204). After his death the Paeonians retreat in confusion (Il. 21.205–11).
Μυσοὶ δ᾽ ἡμᾶς: For the Mysians (occupying northern central Asia Minor) see Il. 2.858–61 (with Kirk on 858). Their counterparts from opposite the Propontis, who were later called Μοισοί or Moesi, did not take part in the Trojan war: Il. 13.4–7 (with Janko).
The Trojans are serving on the fourth watch, as they themselves stated in 5–6 (n.).
543–5. ‘Then is it not high time to go and rouse the Lycians to take the fifth watch according to the lot’s apportionment?’
These verses are almost literally repeated at 562–4 (n.), where they mark the chorus’ exit and, together with the present passage, give the effect of an ephymnium.
οὔκουν: 161–2a n. V and O here have οὐκ οὖν, on which see GP 424, 439–40.
Λυκίους: The Lycians are not only the most significant Trojan allies in the Iliad, but also among the geographically remotest and therefore stand at the very end of the Catalogue: Il. 2.876–7 δ᾽
/
,
δινήεντος. Sarpedon is mentioned in 29 (28–9n.). As in 224–6 (224–5n.) Λυκίας / ναὸν
/ Ἄπολλον, the audience may here have been reminded of ‘wolf-men’, at least on the second occasion (562–4), when the chorus had just been discussing Dolon’s fate (557–61n.).
ϕυλακήν: literally ‘as the fifth’, perhaps with a final undertone comparable to that of
with the accusative of a noun of action: cf. e.g. Hes. Op. 20
καὶ
ὅμως
ἔργον ἔγειρεν, Od. 12.439
δ᾽
ἀνέστη, Xen. Cyr. 1.2.9 ὅταν δὲ ἐξίῃ
(LSJ s.v.
C III 1). This would still differ from a true accusative of direction (Feickert on 545), which might be possible with ἐγείρω, but seems again ruled out here by πέμπτην (538n.).
καιρός: 10n.
κλήρου κατὰ μοῖραν probably reflects contemporary Greek army practice, although no other information on the subject survives. For the Romans cf. Plb. 6.35.11, 6.36.1 (cavalry-men doing allotted rounds) and especially Jos. BJ 5.510–11
(sc. ϕυλακήν) δ᾽
οἱ
ἡγεμόνες.
δ᾽ οἱ
ὕπνους, καὶ δι᾽
νυκτὸς
[τὰ]
ϕρουρίων.
546–50. ‘Listen – I hear her! The nightingale, killer of her son, is sitting in her blood-stained nest by the Simois and singing her sorrowful melody with a voice of so many notes.’
Among the sounds accompanying daybreak, the nightingale’s song is also mentioned at Phaeth. 67–70 Diggle = E. fr. 773.23–6 δὲ δένδρεσι λεπ- / τὰν
ἁρμονίαν /
γόοις /
(with Diggle on 70 [pp. 101–2] + AC 65 [1996], 193–4). More often in tragedy it transcends pure scene-description by serving –on the model of Od. 19.518–24 – as a paradigm of female grief and lamentation: e.g. A. Suppl. 57–76, Ag. 1140–9, Ai. 624–34, S. El. 103–9, 147–9, 1074–7, Hel. 1107–12 (A. Barker, in P. Murray – P. Wilson [eds.], Music and the Muses. The Culture of ‘Mousikē ’ in the Classical Athenian City, Oxford 2004, 189–91).
The Attic tale of Aēdōn-Procne was already known to Hesiod (Op. 568–9 [with West on 568], fr. 312; cf. Sapph. fr. 135 Voigt) and received its canonical form in S. Tereus (frr. 580–595b). On this, and the possible variant behind Od. 19.518–24 (Σ Od. 19.518 [II 683.19–27 Dindorf] = Pherecyd. FGrHist 3 F 124 = fr. 124 Fowler), see P. M. C. Forbes Irving, Metamorphosis in Greek Myths, Oxford 1990, 248–9 and A. H. Sommerstein – D. Fitzpatrick, in Sophocles. Selected Fragmentary Plays I, 142–9 (Tereus).
The ‘violent beauty of the Nightingale passage’ (G. H. Macurdy, AJPh 64 [1943], 410) should not be understood as foreshadowing the deaths and sufferings that inform the latter part of our play. As in Phaethon, its significance is restricted to the immediate context of the ode. Cf. Diggle on Phaeth. 70 (pp. 100–1) and Collard on Phaeth. 63–101 (p. 226).
καὶ μάν: ‘calling attention to something just seen or heard’ (GP 356–7; cf. G. Wakker, in NAGP, 227–9), as in e.g. Sept. 245 καὶ μὴν γ᾽ ἱππικῶν ϕρυαγμάτων, Andr. 820–1, Ion 201–2, Ar. Ran. 285. Typical of drama, this usage of
is closely akin to that in entry announcements (85–6n.).
The MSS have καὶ μὴν. Diggle introduced the Doric form appropriate to lyrics.
Σιμόεντος ἡμένα κοίτας / ϕοινίας: the same combination of a spatial-cognate accusative (with verbs of ‘resting’) and a partitive-local genitive as at OT 161 Ἄρτεμιν, ἃ κυκλόεντ᾽ ἀγορᾶς θρόνον εὐκλέα θάσσει(with Dawe2 on 161). Each case construction, if separate, is com (with Dawe2 on 161). Each case construction, if separate, is common in tragedy. For the accusative see e.g. Ag. 182–3
… / … σέλμα σεμνὸν ἡμένων, OT 2, Phil. 144–5, Andr. 117, E. Suppl. 987 (KG I 313–14 n. 13, SD 76), for the genitive Pi. Pyth. 4.56 Νείλοιο
(‘to the rich precinct of Cronus’ son by the Nile’), Phil. 489, Ion 154–5
/ πτανοὶ
κοίτας, 892, Hyps. fr. I iv.21, 24–5 Bond = E. fr. 752h.21, 24–5.
Poetic (and real) nightingales favour river-banks: Alcm. (?) fr. 10 (a).6–7 PMGF ἄκουσα τᾶν ἀηδ[όνων ταὶ] / παρ᾽ [ῥοαῖσ(ι) … (suppl. Page), A. Suppl. 62–4 ἀηδόνος, / ἅτ᾽
[τ᾽]
/
νέον οἶτον
(with FJW on 63 and for the text West, Studies, 129–30), [Mosch.] 3.9–10, Ant. Lib. 11.11. Here her nest is ‘blood-stained’ – not from the battles raging before Troy (G. H. Macurdy, AJPh 64 [1943], 410, Feickert on 547), but, implicitly, from the murder of her child. 427
ὑμνεῖ: ΣV Rh. 547 (II 341.21–2 Schwartz = 108 Merro) records as a γράϕεται-variant. This could stand with
… μέριμναν (below), but looks rather like a gloss by someone who, like the scholiast, took
ϕοινίας to be the object of the verb. See also Liapis, ‘Notes’, 79–80.
πολυχορδοτάτᾳ / γήρυϊ emphasises the variety of the nightingale’s song, already famed at Od. 19.521
(Diggle on Phaeth. 67 f. with further references). Cf. especially Med. 196–7 μούσῃ καὶ πολυχόρδοις / ᾠδαῖς, Lyr. adesp. fr. 947 (b) PMG
… / τερπνοτάτων μελέων
(with ‘strings’ for ‘notes’, as here) and Theoc. 16.44–5 εἰ μὴ θεῖος
ὁ Κήιος αἰόλα
/
ἐς πολύχορδον. To the audience
may also have suggested the (notorious) intricacies of the ‘New Music’: Pherecr. fr. 155 PCG, Pl. Rep. 399c7–d5, Phaenias fr. 32 Wehrli, Artemon fr. 11 FHG IV 342, [Plut.] De mus. 18.1137a–b, 20–21.1137f (probably after Aristoxenus). See Denniston apud Page on Med. 196 and in general West, Ancient Greek Music, 356–72. Barker (in Music and the Muses, 185–204) takes the Nightingale in Ar. Birds as an emblem of that ‘new’ style.
παιδολέτωρ / … : Cf. particularly S. El. 107
…
(where the adjective is a hapax) and, perhaps under Euripidean influence, Nonn. D. 48.748
(~ Med. 848–9
… /
παιδολέτειραν). Feminine
also occurs in Sept. 726 and Med. 1393 (again of Medea). It may be an Aeschylean coinage, taken over by Euripides (Ritchie 167).
Apart from, perhaps, the metaphor at Archil. fr. 263 IEG (= Hsch. α 1501 Latte), this is the only case of for
before the Hellenistic age: Theoc. 8.38, Call. Lav. Pall. 94, Aet. fr. 1.16 Pf.
[
]
μελιχρ[ό]τεραι (suppl. Housman, prob. Pfeiffer), Noss. Ep. 10.3 Gow–Page HE, Posidipp. Ep. 37.6 Austin–Bastianini. Similarly ἀδονίς in Theoc. Ep. 4.11 Gow and [Mosch.] 3.46.
μελοποιὸν … μέριμναν: Dindorf (III.2 [1840], 611) for the MSS’ … μέριμνα (μελω- … μερίμνᾳ Q), which is impossible to construe. μέριμνα as the subject of ὑμνεῖ and
cannot be excused by reference to Bacch. 19.8–11 ὕϕαινέ νυν … / … τι καινὸν / … /
Κηΐα μέριμνα (i.e. the poet), and the chain of three attributes (including adjectival ἀηδονίς!) that would depend on the single noun seems intolerable. Placing
… μέριμνα in apposition to
/ … ἀηδονίς (D. Ebener, WZRostock 12 [1963], 205) is ruled out by the word-order (Feickert on 550), and the problem of metaphorical μέριμνα for the nightingale’s (as opposed to a human poet’s) compositional pursuits would remain. Both interpretations, moreover, entail taking
as an isolated local genitive with
and
as the object of
.428
Reiske (Animadversiones, 89) had already written μέριμναν, but Dindorf’s text (adopted by Murray, Diggle, Kovacs, Feickert and Liapis) achieves a better distribution of epithets. The error was easy – from the preceding nominatives as well as, perhaps, the more natural application of to the ‘maker of the song’ (LSJ s.v. I). Note, however, Hec. 917–18
/
(‘sacrifice leading to dances’). At Hipp. 1428–9 ἀεὶ δὲ
ἐς σὲ
/ ἔσται μέριμνα (a possible model of our passage) the adjective retains its proper force.
It may be significant that μέριμνα occurs (in a different context) at Phaeth. 87 Diggle = E. fr. 773.43. On our poet’s fondness for adjectives in see 651n.
551–3. ‘And they are already grazing their flocks on Mount Ida. I plainly hear the voice of the shepherd’s pipe, sounding through the night.’
In both expression and content these lines closely resemble Phaeth. 71–6 Diggle = E. fr. 773.27–32 δ᾽
/ κινοῦσιν
… 75 = 31
δ᾽ εἰς ἔργα κυνα- / γοὶ
θηροϕόνοι, which also come immediately after the nightingale motif at Phaeth. 67–70 Diggle = E. fr. 773.23–6 (546–50n.).
δέ: Cf. Phaeth. 75 Diggle = E. fr. 773.31 (above). On the time-scale of Rhesus, it is the shepherds whose activities merit comment.
νυκτιβρόμου / σύριγγος likewise acknowledges the early hour. Pierson’s (Verisimilium I, 33–4) for νυκτιδρόμου (Δ: νυκτὶ δρόμου Λ) has won general acceptance, despite being a new formation after
and its kind (e.g. Hel. 1351
αὐλόν, Ba. 156, Ar. Nub. 313, Arch. Ep. 17.5 Gow–Page GPh
μελίβρομον). Pace (in Scritti Gallo, 458–9), who wishes to preserve the thinly-attested νυκτιδρόμος (Orph. H. 9.2, SB 4127.14), must either, by hypallage, take the genitive with ἰάν or write
and in any case achieves much weaker sense in a stanza that deals with the sounds of early dawn (527–64n.). The confusion of
and δ is rare, but not unheard of (FJW on A. Suppl. 547, 599, where add particularly HF 1212 δρόμον Reiske: βρόμον L) For
and its cognates in the context of music see also Pi. Nem. 11.7
δέ
βρέμεται καὶ ἀοιδά, S. fr. 314.284 (Ichneutai)
, Ba. 160–1, Pae. Delph. 1.12 (CA 85 = Furley–Bremer II 85), h.Merc. 452 ἱμερόεις βρόμος
and S. fr. 513 (Poimenes).
By the later fifth century both σῦριγξ and could be used to denote the ‘multiple-stem’ panpipe (West, Ancient Greek Music, 109–10 with n. 122). Willink’s assertion that at Or. 145–6 ἆ ἆ σύριγγος
πνοὰ /
δόνακος, ὦ ϕίλα,
μοι (and elsewhere in
Euripides) the singular meant a simple reed-pipe, is disproved by PV 574
… δόναξ (‘made with wax’, i.e. held together by it, as the parts of the pan-pipe were).
ἰάν: a rare word. Cf. Pers. 937 ἰάν, Hdt. 1.85.2 (oracle), Hipp. 585 ἰὰν μὲν κλύω,
δ᾽ οὐκ ἔχω, where Weil’s emendation of
Hipp. 585 (II 75.13 Schwartz)
(ἰαχὰν
) was confirmed by P. Oxy. 2224, and OT 1219 ἰὰν
Burges:
codd. (see L1-J/W, Sophoclea, 108).
κατακούω: The compound is found only here in tragedy. But Liapis (on 551–3) notes the contextually similar dialogue in Ar. Ran. 312–13 … (Δι.) οὐ (Ξα.) τίνος; / (Δι.)
πνοῆς.
554–6. ‘Sleep casts its spell over the seat of my eyes; for it comes upon their lids most sweetly towards dawn.’
The antistrophe ends with a reminiscence of Pi. Pyth. 9.23–5
ἀῶ. Others also praised the pleasure of early-morning sleep: Alcm. 3 fr. 1.7 PMGF [ὕπνον
γλεϕάρων σκεδ[α]σεῖ
(apparently), Bacch. Pae. 4.76–8 οὐδὲ
/
/ ἀῷος ὃς θάλπει κέαρ (ἀῷος Blass: ἆμος vel ἇμος Stob. 4.14.3), Mosch. 2.2–4 (Aphrodite sent Europa a dream) νυκτὸς
τρίτατον
ἵσταται, ἐγγύθι δ᾽ ἠώς, / ὕπνος
/
429 Luc. Merc.Cond. 24
κώδωνι
On the military realism of our lines see further 527–64n.
θέλγει … / ὕπνος: In Greek literature the concept of sleep as ‘spellbinding’ goes back to Il. 24.343–4 (of Hermes) δὲ ῥάβδον,
θέλγει /
ἐθέλῃ,
δ᾽
καὶ
ἐγείρει (= Od. 5.47–8 ~ 24.2–4). Note also Or. 211 ὦ
θέλγητρον, IA 142
and, of a divinely imposed trance, Il. 13.434–5
τόθ᾽
/ θέλξας ὄσσε ϕαεινά.
ὄμματος ἕδραν: By contrast with 8 (n.)
(where ‘the … seat of your lids’ = ‘eyes’), periphrastic ἕδρα has here lost most of its force. The virtual repetition may have been aided by
in the following line.
βλεϕάροις: Musgrave (on 556). Ω’s is an epicising slip.
πρὸς ἀῶ: The MSS’ was independently corrected by Blaydes (Adversaria, 7) and Headlam (CR 15 [1901], 102), the latter citing Pi. Pyth. 9.23–5 (above). Cf. further Ar. Eccl. 312
ἕω, Theoc.
18.55 πρὸς ἀῶ and e.g. Ar. Lys. 1089, Eccl. 20
ὄρθρον (LSJ s.v.
C II). The genitive is not used in that temporal sense.
557–64. As in 538–45 (n.), the section is divided between semi-choruses or single choreutae. The MSS run together 557–9, but change of speaker after 558 is indicated by the metrical pause (paroemiac). In 561 L has a paragraphos before ἂν
μοι. If the text is essentially correct, the comment would suit the speaker of 559. But more extensive corruption cannot be ruled out (560–1n.).
However we assign the utterances, the ‘ephymnium’ 543–5 ~ 562–4 (nn.) belongs to the same group or person.
557–61. While the chorus even verbally recall Hector’s order to watch out for Dolon (cf. 557–8n.), their weariness prevents them from acting on it. Far from being mere characterisation, however, the dialogue will again remind the audience of the spy’s fate and so prepare for the imminent entry of Odysseus and Diomedes (Fantuzzi, in Entretiens Hardt LII, 155).
557–8. The anxious query takes up Hector at 524–6. Its syntax, however, mirrors Il. 10.561–3 τρεισκαιδέκατον
ἐγγύθι νηῶν, / τόν ῥα
στρατοῦ ἔμμεναι
/
καὶ
Τρῶες ἀγαυοί, and there are other points of contact with ‘Homer’ and Aeschylus (below).
τί ποτ᾽᾽ οὐ πελάθει: Given the rarity of (LSJ s.v.), this may be a reminiscence of A. fr. 132 (Myrmidons) = Ar. Ran. 1264–5 (+ 1267/71/75/77)
Ἀχιλλεῦ,
ποτ᾽
ἀκούων, / ἰή,
οὐ
ἀρωγάν; inspired either by Frogs or indeed primary acquaintance with Myrmidons (cf. Introduction, 34–5 with n. 53). Nauck’s
(II3 [1871], XXXIV) then probably misses the point. Exact metrical responsion with 538 need not be restored, nor do we require the same verb as at 13–14 (n.). On the contrary,
would even be closer in sound to 526 πελάζει.
σκοπός in the sense ‘spy’ or ‘scout’ is regularly used in Iliad 10 (38, 324, 342, 526, 561), but rare later (LSJ s.v. I 3,430 Pritchett, GSWI, 129). It is combined with (-τήρ) at Sept. 36–7
δὲ κἀγὼ καὶ
στρατοῦ / ἔπεμψα.
ναῶν / … κατόπτην: 523–5a n. At 133–5a (n.) γὰρ
νεῶν /
/
(…); the genitive depends on πέλας.
Wecklein rightly wrote
, which would easily have been ‘doricised’ under the influence of the preceding lyric (cf. 1n.).
ὤτρυνε: 25n. The double accusative (with ἰέναι to be supplied) is paralleled in Il. 10.37–8 τίϕθ᾽ οὕτως, ἠθεῖε, κορύσσεαι; ἦ τιν᾽ /
ὀτρυνέεις Τρώεσσιν ἔπι σκοπόν; where Nicias’ ἔπι
(apud Hdn. I 232.16–17, II 69.5–6 Lentz =
II. 10.38 [III 10.9–10 Erbse]) for
or
(cf. West’s apparatus) is perhaps supported by
here in 557. Similarly 642–3n. with n. 245.
559. χρόνιος: Unlike the epic-style adverbial accusative χρόνον (865n.), predicative χρόνιος, ‘for a long time’, is well established in tragedy (LSJ s.v. I 2; especially IA 1098–9
πόσιν, / χρόνιον ἀπόντα).
560–1. ‘Can he have run into a hidden ambush and perished? †Perhaps so.† I am afraid.’
ἀλλ᾽ ἦ: 36–7a n. Here ἀλλ᾽ ἦ, restored by Matthiae (VIII [1824], 28) for the MSS’ ἀλλ᾽ conveys the speaker’s natural reluctance to accept that Dolon may be dead.
λόχον: 17–18n.
ἐσπαίσας (‘burst, rush in’) is rare in drama and elsewhere: OT 1252 γὰρ
Οἰδίπους, Xenarch. fr. 1.3 PCG
τ᾽
Πελοπιδῶν, Ar. Pl. 804–5
γὰρ
σωρὸς εἰς
/
431 and probably also Or. 1315 στείχει γὰρ
(Wecklein cl. Rh. 560:
codd:
432 The aorist and future invited corruption into forms of -πίπτειν. At OT 1252 most MSS read εἰσέπεσεν by phonetic confusion of αι and ε (cf. Dawe, STS I, 257), and in our passage O alone has the nearly correct
(if with
attached to 559). VaΛ’s
will be another intrusive gloss, unless iotacism produced *εἰσπέσας, which someone then ‘improved’ to εἰσπεσών.
ἂν
Va)433 is too long by two syllables
but no fully satisfactory emendation has yet been made. Most recent editors accept Headlam’s διόλωλε; –
μοι (CR 15 [1901], 103), which neatly restores metre and sense. ‘Absolute’
ἄν in reply has contemporary parallels at Pl. Sph. 255c12 and Rep. 369a8, and could have prompted a scribe or corrector to supply
for ‘clarification’. L’s inner-metric antilabe (16n.) also suits the excited, colloquial tone of the passage and, by approximate responsion with 540–1, leaves 562–4 to the same speaker as 543–5 (cf. 557–64n.). One may object, however, to the
general weakness of
So Herwerden (RPh n.s. 18 [1894], 85) wrote
– in fine tragic idiom (e.g. Ai. 838
Alc. 391, Hipp. 1350), though perhaps with too much pity for Dolon. Hermann’s
(Opuscula III, 306), expanded by Diggle into
merely transfers the ‘weakness’ to the entire sentence, not to mention the extreme rarity in tragedy of τάχα (‘soon’) with a potential optative (Ai. 1147–9 is a probable example). If, like Diggle, one wishes to give
a subject, West’s τὸ πᾶν (after PV 126 πᾶν μοι ϕοβερὸν τὸ προσέρπον) might be considered.
was familiar to scholiasts and could have occurred to a scribe here when faced with some illegible letters.
On the whole, Headlam’s solution remains the best, but as deeper corruption cannot be ruled out, Diggle’s obeli are the appropriate response.
562–4. See 543–5 and 557–64nn. The statement with reinforces the sentries’ intention to call for relief. As far as the Trojans are concerned, Dolon is forgotten until 863–5.
After the sentries have left in the direction of the Trojan camp, the stage remains empty for a short while, before Odysseus and Diomedes enter by the same eisodos. The interval is necessary to avoid the impression that the two parties run into each other, but it also serves the important structural purpose of accentuating the dramatic turning point (Liapis, xxxvii-xxxviii and on 565–674). A technical parallel exists in Alc. 860, where Heracles, on his way to bring Alcestis back to life, must not meet Admetus and presumably the chorus (cf. below) returning from her funeral, and a brief gap in the action is much more likely than that Heracles simply exits ‘on the ‘wrong’ side; and probably no one in the audience noticed the incongruity’ (Taplin, Stagecraft, 385 n. 2).
The temporary departure of the chorus in mid-play (called μετάστασις by Poll. 4.108) is rare, but not unprecedented in fifth-century tragedy. In Eum. 231–43, the earliest surviving example,434 it helps to indicate the change of scene and, more importantly, visualises the Erinyes’ continuous pursuit on the Atridae’s ancient trail of blood (Taplin, Stagecraft, 380–1). Later, as here, the device mainly enables the playwright to put on a scene that could not be enacted in front of the chorus: Ai. 815–65 (Ajax’ suicide),435 Alc. 747–860 (Heracles’ decision to save Alcestis)436 and Hel. 386–514 (Menelaus’ first entry and conversation with Theoclymenus’ doorkeeper).437 Rhesus, however, is unique both formally and with regard to the plot in that the chorus depart after the equivalent of an act-dividing song (Taplin, Stagecraft, 376) and that their behaviour –all the worse for being in defiance of Hector’s order at 523–5 – actually helps the enemy ruse (Burnett, ‘Smiles’, 36, G. Paduano, Dioniso 55 [1984–85], 267).
565–94. Onto the vacated stage sneak Odysseus and Diomedes, with the novel (and doomed) intention of killing Hector in his bed (574–6, 580–1 – probably suggested by Il. 10.406–8 + 414–16, where Odysseus asks after, and Dolon betrays, Hector’s location).438 When they cannot find the Trojan commander, a brief discussion about the reasons (577–9) and their strategic options (580–93) ends with the decision to return to the ships (594).
The entry of two characters talking is rare in classical drama: Phil. 730, IT 67 (below), E. fr. 62a.5 and, in ‘mid-conversation’, Phil. 1222, Hipp. 601, IA 303, Ar. Nub. 1214, Av. 801, Lys. 1, Ran. 830 (O. P. Taplin, GRBS 12 [1971], 40, Stagecraft, 363–4; cf. Liapis on 565 ff.). The dialogue of the Greeks here at once reveals their uncharacteristic timidity (565–9 [568b–9n.], 577–8), as well as the more traditional contrast (exemplified by e.g. Il. 10. 383–4 + 446–57, 502–6) between Diomedes’ warlike impetuosity and the calmer prudence of his companion (cf. 582–94, 582–4, 589–90nn.). Yet as with the advice Aeneas and the chorus give Hector in 85–148 (n.), Odysseus’ apparently wiser plan to retreat is bound for disaster, except that in his case Athena will intervene to share her superior knowledge of Rhesus’ arrival (Strohm 260 n. 4, G. Paduano, SCO 23 [1974], 25–6, Rosivach 61–3; cf. 595–674, 595–641nn.).
The scene amounts to a second prologue (Fantuzzi, Entretiens Hardt LII, 156–9). A series of relevant echoes (discussed in the commentary) suggests that it was modelled on a combination of Orestes’ and Pylades’ cautious entry in IT 67–122, the arrival of Odysseus and Neoptolemus on Lemnos (Phil. 1–49) and, to a lesser degree, Polynices’ secret return to Thebes at Phoen. 261–73 + 361–4 (cf. G. Björck, Eranos 55 [1957], 15, Strohm 263 n. 6, Mastronarde on Phoen. 261–442, 269). In addition, the ‘clash of temperaments’ between Odysseus and Diomedes reproduces on a smaller scale heroic motifs from Il. 8.130–58.
565–6. ‘Diomedes, did you not hear – or is there a meaningless noise trickling through my ears? – a din of armour?’
Odysseus’ opening words bear a striking similarity to E. El. 747–8 ϕίλαι, βροντῆς Διός; (Ritchie 245) as well as, closer to the present situation, Phoen. 269 ὠή, τίς
S. fr. 61 (Acrisius)
ἀκούετ᾽; ἢ μάτην ὑλῶ; / ἅπαντα γάρ τοι τῷ ϕοβουμένῳ ψοϕεῖ (of which the first line is quoted as a parallel to Phoen. 269–71 in gB) and perhaps S. fr. 314.204 (Ichneutae) οὐ[κ ε]ἰσακο[ύε]ις, ἢ κεκώϕη[σαι, perhaps S. fr. 314.204 (Ichneutae)
ψόϕον;] (suppl. Wilamowitz). For the vivid interlace of two independent questions by ‘διὰ μέσου’ parenthesis note also e.g. Cyc. 121
δ᾽ –
Hipp. 685–6, Hel. 1579–80 and Ba. 649 (KG II 602 n. 5, Diggle, Studies, 115–16, R. Renehan, CPh 87 [1992], 341–2).
στάζει δι᾽ ὤτων finds its nearest parallel in Pi. Pyth. 4.136–8 δ᾽
(with Braswell on 136–7). The image of sound as a liquid also lies behind OT 1386–7
δι᾽
ϕραγμός, Ar. Thesm. 18
(‘funnel’)
διετετρήνατο, Pl. Phdr. 235c8–d1 and Rep. 411a5–8.
Metaphorical in tragedy is largely confined to lyrics: Ag. 179–80 στάζει δ᾽ …
καρδίας / μνησιπήμων
(with Fraenkel on 179), Ant. 959–60
τε μένος, Hipp. 525–6 Ἔρως, Ἔρως, ὁ κατ᾽
/ στάζων
(with Barrett); in iambic trimeters cf. S. fr. 373.2–3 (of Aeneas)
For δι᾽
see 294–5n.
567–8a. ‘No, it is harnesses, which hang from the rails of the horse-drawn chariots, sounding their clang of iron.’
For the practice of fastening one’s unyoked horses to the chariot for the night see 27 and 616–17nn. In the permanent Greek camp, where no precautions for an emergency sortie are required, the captured team of Rhesus will be bound to the manger near Diomedes’ hut (Il. 10.566–9).
πωλικῶν ἐξ ἀντύγων recalls Ai. 1030 (Hector) … πρισθεὶς ἱππικῶν ἀντύγων, from the most likely interpolated end of Teucer’s first speech (see Finglass on Ai. [1028–39]), except that
here is a genuine plural. Following Il. 5.262 (= 322)
ἄντυγος
τείνας and Il. 10.474–5 ~ Rh. 616–17 (n.), the phrase goes attributively with
in a manner comparable to e.g. Pers. 611 βοός τ᾽
ἁγνῆς
E. El. 794
καθαροῖς
and IT 162 παγάς τ᾽ οὐρειᾶν ἐκ μόσχων. Cf. Diggle, Studies, 28–9, 69 (where the governing nouns are verbal abstracts), Willink on Or. 982–4
and 829–32n.
The form of the is discussed in 372b–3a n.
Cf. Sept. 385–6 ὑπ᾽ ἀσπίδος δὲ τῷ / χαλκήλατοι κλάζουσι
(LSJ s.v. κλάζω 3, KG I 309, SD 76–7), which in different ways also seems to have inspired Rh. 306b–8 and 383–4 (nn.).
σίδηρον is Bothe’s (5 [1803], 296) and Paley’s (on 568) simple correction of the MSS’ σιδήρου. As a verb of sounding, can hardly take a genitive on the analogy of ὄζω, πνέω and the like (KG I 356–7, SD 128–9), and other analyses (cf. Liapis, ‘Notes’, 82) do not appeal either.
568b–9. ‘Fear came over me too, before I realised that it was the clatter of horse-trappings.’
Both expression and content resemble Sept. 245 γ᾽ ἱππικῶν
and 249 δέδοικ᾽·
ὀϕέλλεται. The latter supplies the rare
(LSJ s.v. with Suppl. [1996], where add E. fr. 631.1–2), while δέδοικ᾽ may be echoed in ἔδυ
(cf. Sept. 240
It is instructive to relate the Greek heroes’ alarm at ultimately harmless enemy noises to that of the shy Theban chorus girls at the arrival of the Argive host (cf. A. Fries, CQ n.s. 60 [2010], 347–8, Introduction, 37).
τοι: ‘Revealing the speaker’s emotional or intellectual state (present or past)’, as often when intensifying a personal pronoun (GP 541–2). Of fear also e.g. Hipp. 433, Or. 544.
πρὶν ᾐσθόμην: For with the indicative depending on an affirmative sentence in the past see 294–5n.
570–1. This couplet betrays influence from both IT 67–8 (Ορ.) ὅρα,
(Ritchie 245) and Phil. 30–1 (Οδ.) ὅρα
of which the latter verse seems in turn to be mirrored in 574 (n.). The dramatic situation in each case is similar (565–94n.).
570. Odysseus’ warning acknowledges the situation of Rhesus. In Il. 10.416–20 the Greeks learn from Dolon that there is no regular watch. Cf. Introduction, 39.
κατ᾽ ὄρϕνην: 41–2n.
571. τοι: ‘In response to a command’ (GP 541): ‘I will take care …’ See also 219–22a n.
τιθεὶς πόδα: 280n. The strong sense ‘plant the foot, step’, as opposed to simple ‘walk’, is appropriate to the Achaeans’ careful movements in the dark.
572–3. While the audience will have had visual confirmation of Dolon’s death in the wolf-skin Odysseus is carrying (591–3n.), this is the first explicit hint at his interception. The betrayal of the watchword, in addition to Hector’s position (cf. 565–94n.), is another innovation for the sake of the plot. In 675–91 (n.) it will help the Achaeans escape.
ἢν δ᾿᾿ οὖν ἐγείρῃς; ‘But if you do wake anyone …?’ ‘εἰ δ’ οὖν … is particularly used when a speaker hypothetically grants a supposition which he denies, doubts, or reprobates’ (GP 464–5). The particles after εἰ emphasise the adversative conditional clause (Paley on Ag. 1009 [1042]; cf. Fraenkel on Ag. 676).
σύνθημα: 521–2n.
521–2n. The development of σύμβολον from a physical token of identification to ‘prearranged signal, watchword’ (LSJ s.v. III 4 with Suppl. [1996]) is easy to understand. But the usage is rare and found only here in classical Greek.
κλυών: 109–10a, 286nn. The knowledge of the watchword stems from ‘one particular communication’ (M. L. West, BICS 31 [1984], 177). So also 858 κοὐδὲν πρὸς αὐτῶν οἶδα κλυών.
574–9. The Greeks’ arrival at Hector’s bivouac looks like an adaptation of Phil. 26–42, where a cautious rather than fearful Odysseus asks Neoptolemus about Philoctetes’ temporarily deserted cave. More generally, the passage also recalls Orestes and Pylades discussing the layout of Artemis’ precinct in IT 69–76. Cf. 570–1, 574nn.
574–6. With this exchange contrast Odysseus’ confident statement in Il. 10.477–8 οὗτός τοι, Διόμηδες, ἀνήρ, οὗτοι δέ τοι ἵπποι, / νῶϊν
574. ‘Oh, I see this bivouac of the enemy here is deserted.’
ἔα: extra metrum. Mostly ἔα ‘expresses the speaker’s surprise [ΣA PV 114 at some novel, often unwelcome, impression on his senses’ (Fraenkel on Ag. 1256–7 [III, p. 580 n. 4]; cf. Page on Med. 1004, Stevens on Andr. 896, CEE 33 n. 81, Collard, ‘Supplement’, 362). Etymologically it is thus likely to be a composite interjection (SD 599–600, Kannicht on Hel. 71), ‘a gasp of astonishment, perhaps representing the sound of a sharp intake of breath’ (Dodds on Ba. 644), rather than a fossilised imperative of ἐάω. As a colloquialism it is much more common in Euripides than in Aeschylus and Sophocles.
εὐνὰς ἐρήμους τάσδε πολεμίων ὁρῶ: 1n. With ὁρῶ here supply οὔσας (KG II 66–7). The wording recalls Phil. 31 (Νε.) ὁρῶ
and 34
ὑπόστεγον; (574–9n.).
575–6. ‘Yet Dolon declared this to be Hector’s bivouac, against whom my sword is drawn.’
καὶ μὴν … γε: 184n.
1n. Add again οὔσας, as in 574 (n.) and on the model of Od. 19.477
ἔνδον ἔοντα, Alc. 812, 1012–13, Hel. 827, IA 802–3 and Rh. 952–3
ἔδει ϕράσαι / Ὀδυσσέως τέχναισι τόνδ᾽ ὀλωλότα. Probably because of the verb’s primary sense ‘show, make known’ (LSJ s.v. I 1), rather than ‘declare, tell’ the accusative and infinitive does not occur before the first century BC.
ἐϕ᾽ ᾧπερ ἔγχος εἵλκυσται τόδε: similarly Il. 1.194 εἵλκετο δ᾽ ἐκ μέγα ξίϕος … (from the famous passage in which Athena prevents Achilles from killing Agamemnon) and Ant. 1232–3 ξίϕους /
Diomedes naturally has his sword at the ready, as Polynices does on his way through Thebes: Phoen. 267–8, 363–4 (cf. 565–94n.).
577. ‘Now, what can that mean? The company has not gone off somewhere, has it?’
τί δῆτ᾽ ἂν εἴη; an impatient question (Dale on Hel. 91) with near-formulaic status in later tragedy and comedy: IA 843, Ar. Eccl. 24, 348–9 δῆτ᾽ ἂν εἴη; μῶν ἐπ᾽ ἄριστον γυνή / κέκληκεν αὐτὴν τῶν ϕίλων; Thesm. 847, Pl. 1152. But see also E. Suppl. 558 πῶς
(with Collard on 558–63).
in questions is always continuative. The particle largely belongs to lively dialogue and is therefore, apart from Plato, exceedingly rare outside drama (GP 269–70).
μῶν: 17–18n. The question here expresses both alarm and surprise.
λόχος: Hector’s company, as at 26 (n.).
578. Diomedes’ assumption is symptomatic of the role real or imagined treachery plays in our drama (Rosivach 65–7 with n. 35).
μηχανὴν στήσων τινά: Cf. Andr. 995–6 τοία γὰρ
and see 91–2n.
ἑστάναι).
579. θρασὺς … θρασύς: The emphatic placement of a mostly disyllabic word at the beginning and end of an iambic trimeter is Euripidean: Alc. 722 Hcld. 307, Hipp. 327, Ba. 963, E. fr. 414.1 ϕειδώμεθ᾽ ἀνδρῶν εὐγενῶν, ϕειδώμεθα (Nauck, Euripideische Studien II, 184, Ritchie 238).439 Note also Hcld. 225
βλέψον πρὸς αὐτούς,
and E. fr. 548.1 νοῦν
θεᾶσθαι, νοῦν … Sophocles has two comparable instances in frr. 210.46 (lyric) and 753, Aeschylus none.
γάρ: 484n.
580–1. For the sentiment at this stage of the exploit cf. IT 94–7 δ᾽ ἱστορῶ, /
… / τί δρῶμεν; ἀμϕίβληστρα γὰρ τοίχων
/
(565–94n.).
τί δῆτ᾽ … another type of set question in drama (cf. 577n.). With γάρ in the next sentence explaining why it was asked note also E. El. 967–9 (Ορ.)
δρῶμεν; μητέρ᾽
ϕονεύσομεν; / (Ελ.) … / (Ορ.)
and Phoen. 740 τί
(Mastronarde on Phoen. 1615). Otherwise e.g. Cho. 899 Πυλάδη, τί δράσω; (like E. El. 967 at a critical point in the plot), Phil. 757, IT 1188, Ar. Pax 263, Ran. 277.
ηὕρομεν: Dindorf (III.2 [1840], 611) for εὕρ- (Ω), since the dramatists apparently never omitted the temporal augment in spoken verse (KB II 18). In our case the frequent scribal error was probably assisted by the post-classical shortening of in the imperfect, aorist and perfect tenses of verbs beginning with αυ- and ευ- (Threatte I 384–5, II 482–3, 486; cf. Lautensach, Augment, 47–9). Likewise 611 (611–12n.), 614, 762, 763, 769, 779.
ἐν εὐναῖς: 1n.
ἐλπίδων δ᾽ ἡμάρτομεν: so also Med. 498 (plural for singular).
582–94. Despite the very different situation, which perhaps first recalls IT 102–4 (Ορ.) ἐναυστολήσαμεν. /
(565–94, 589–90nn.), this part of the dialogue resembles Il. 8.138–56, where after a checking thunderbolt from Zeus Nestor suggests to Diomedes retreat for much the same reason as Odysseus gives here (582–4n.). Diomedes recognises the value of the advice (Il. 8.146), but shrinks from acting on it for fear that Hector may gloat over his apparent cowardice: Il. 8.147–50 ~ Rh. 589–90 (n.). Nestor then reassures him (Il. 8.153–6 ~ Rh. 591–3) and turns the chariot without further ado (Il. 8.157–8). Contrast the express consent of Diomedes in Rh. 594 (n.).
582–4. In addition to IT 102–3 (582–94n.), cf. Nestor at Il. 8.139–44 ‘Τυδείδη, ἄγε δὴ αὖτε ἔχε
ἵππους.
τοι ἐκ Διὸς
/ νῦν
γὰρ τούτῳ (i.e. Hector)
Ζεὺς κῦδος
αὖτε καὶ ἡμῖν, αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέλησιν, / δώσει.
δέ κεν
τι Διὸς νόον
/
μάλ᾽ ἴϕθιμος,
(582–94n.). The notion that fighting is pointless when a god supports the other side (583–4) also surfaces in Il. 2.111–16, 5.601–6, 9.18–23, 14.69–73, 16.119–21 and 20.97–8 (Fenik, Typical Battle Scenes, 164, 222).
ναυστάθμων: 135b–6n. As the word is always plural in Rhesus, Δ’s ναυστάθμων must be adopted.
εὐτυχῆ: 52–84, 665–7, 882–4nn.
τύχην: perhaps a wordplay on εὐτυχῆ, rather than just an inevitable repetition.
585–6. The victims here are not chosen at random. Aeneas is the greatest Trojan warrior after Hector (85–148n.), whereas Paris gained obvious notoriety as the instigator of the whole conflict. Both, moreover, appear as characters in the play.
οὔκουν: 161–2a n. A statement (οὐκοῦν Ω) would be out of place here.
ἐπ᾽ Αἰνέαν: For this form of the name, rather than epic Αἰνείας, in tragedy (and Pindar) see 85–6n.
Φρυγῶν: 32n.
μολόντε: Canter’s correction of is obvious in view of the dual participles at 590, 591, 595, 619 and 784 (784–6n.), which are all found in at least one MS and, except for 595 and 619, sanctioned by metre.
χρή: Despite Liapis (‘Notes’, 83), there is no choice between and
since Diomedes is not considering what they ought to be doing, but what they should do next. ‘The scribes of our manuscripts, or their exemplars, had a strange tendency to corrupt
into
(Kannicht on Hel. 1405–9).
καρατομεῖν: At Alc. 1118 καὶ δὴ προτείνω, Γοργόν᾽ the present participle is Lobeck’s correction of the impossible καρατόμω(ι) in the MSS and scholia (II 243.15–17 Schwartz). See Dale and Parker on Alc. 1118, Fraenkel, Rev. 235 and, for καρατόμος in Rhesus (and the issue of beheading), 605–6n. The verb recurs in Lyc. 313, but otherwise is uncommon before the first century AD.
587–8. The first part of Odysseus’ question looks like an echo of Nestor at Il. 10.82–4
Similarly Odysseus himself in Il. 10.141–2
τόσον ἵκει;
πῶς οὖν: ‘ Well, how … ?’, with ‘progressive’ οὖν marking a new stage in the sequence of thought (GP 425–6).
ἐν ὄρϕνῃ: 41–2n.
ἀνὰ στρατόν: As a verse-end
στρατόν is Euripidean (Hec. 1110, Phoen. 1275, IA 538).
τούσδ᾽: The strong deictic ὅδε can be applied to persons not on stage, but ‘vividly present to the speaker’s thought’ (H. Lloyd-Jones, CR n.s. 15 [1965], 242 = Academic Papers I, 398). Cf. Taplin, Stagecraft, 150–2, with Diggle (CR n.s. 29 [1979], 208), who adds that properly then the character(s) in question should have been mentioned before.440
589–90. In contrast to Pylades at IT 104–17 (cf. 582–94n.), who rightfully contradicts Orestes’ proposal to flee with reference to their honour (104, 114–15), Apollo’s oracle (105) and the long journey they have undertaken for it (116–17), Diomedes here displays the same sort of ‘heroic shame over prudent retreat’ as his epic self in Il. 8.146–50 ναὶ δὴ
γέρον, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες, /
καὶ θυμὸν ἱκάνει· /
Τρώεσσ᾽ ἀγορεύων, / ‘Τυδείδης
/
τότε μοι χάνοι εὐρεῖα χθών (with Kirk, who compares Hector’s reply to his wife in Il. 6.441–3). Yet in the absence of any understanding for the other’s concern, the couplet here merely helps to emphasise Diomedes’ rashness in Rhesus (565–94n.).
αἰσχρόν γε μέντοι: likewise Or. 106 αἰσχρόν γε μέντοι
with γε μέντοι ‘introducing an objection in dialogue’ (GP 412). For military
see 102–4, 756–7a nn.
ναῦς ἔπ᾽ Ἀργείων μολεῖν: 149–50n.
πολεμίους νεώτερον: ‘… without having done the enemies any harm’. The closest dramatic parallels are Ba. 362–3 (κἀξαιτώμεθα …) τὸνθεὸν μηδὲννέον / δρᾶν and the paratragic (or perhaps even genuinely tragic) Ar. Eccl. 338 ὃ καὶ δέδοικα
τι δρᾷ
(cf. Med. 37, Phoen. 155, 263–4). But the euphemism is common in poetry and prose (LSJ s.vv. νέος II 2,
II 1, cf. 4n.).
in this application has almost entirely lost its comparative force (KG II 306–7, SD 184–5).
591–3. Odysseus is prepared to leave it at Dolon’s killing for that night. In terms of stagecraft, we learn from his reply that he is carrying Dolon’s wolf-skin – perhaps worn around his shoulders like Heracles’ lion skin – as a visible token of the deed. In view of 780–8 (780–8, 781–3, 787–8nn.), Ritchie (70, 76–7) and others suppose that he has actually donned it as a disguise, but in that case it would be more difficult to remove the costume unobtrusively before 675 so that the chorus and Hector (863–5) remain unaware of their scout’s death (cf. S. H. Steadman, CR 59 [1945], 6–7, Feickert on 593). The notion of Liapis (on 565 ff.) that Diomedes is wearing the hide rests on the unfounded assumption that he does not reappear with Odysseus in 675–91 (n.) and is also less probable on linguistic grounds (below). The epic Achaeans immediately dedicate the spoils to Athena and place them on a tamarisk to be collected on their return (Il. 10.458–68, 526–30).
πῶς δ᾽ δέδρακας; expressing an obvious objection to the preceding δράσαντε
(… νεώτερον). Likewise e.g. S. El. 922–3 (Ηλ.) οὐκ οἶσθ᾽ ὅποι
οὐδ᾽ ὅποι γνώμης ϕέρῃ. / (Χρ.)
δ᾽ οὐκ ἐγὼ κάτοιδ᾽ ἅ γ᾽ εἶδον ἐμϕανῶς; and Phil. 249–50 (Nauck, Euripideische Studien II, 176, Liapis on 591–3).
ναυστάθμων / κατάσκοπον Δόλωνα: 523–5a n. / … Δόλωνα). For
see 135b–6n.
τάδε / σκυλεύματ᾽: The use of (‘this here’) supports Odysseus as the wearer of the wolf-skin. Cf. Diomedes referring to his sword as
… τόδε (576) and the contrast between ‘yours’ and ‘mine’ in Od. 5.343–7 (Ino to Odysseus)
σχεδίην
(KG I 641–3, SD 208, 209–10).
Whereas σκυλεύω, ‘strip / despoil a slain enemy’, is well attested in classical Greek, the noun (always plural) appears only once in Thucydides (4.44.5) and six times in Euripides (El. 314, Tro. 18, 1207, Ion 1145, Phoen. 857, 1475). On σκῦλον (-α) see 179 and 619–20a nn.
594. Wilamowitz (De Rhesi scholiis, 9 = KS I, 8) was right to attribute the line to Diomedes with VaQPr (no change of speaker marked in OL) and to write πείθεις instead of since Athena’s question in 595–8 shows that the two Greeks are already on the retreat and must thus have reached an explicit agreement. Comparable cases of this ‘tragoediae consuetudo’ at or near the end of a scene are Rh. 339–41, 663–4 σύ τοί
πείθεις, Cho. 781–2
/ γένοιτο δ᾽
E. El. 985–7 and IT 118–19 (Ορ.)
εἶπας, πειστέον·
χρεών, / ὅποι … (with the same kind of double asyndeton as here, effecting a conclusive matter-of-fact tone).
πείθεις: See above. As elsewhere in Rhesus, the verb invites the suspicion that a wrong decision has been made (65–6n.).
Nauck (II1 [1854], XXII, Euripideische Studien II, 175–6), after Vater (on 578), correcting the grammatically and idiomatically dubious MSS variants εὖ δ᾽ εἴη
(OΛ, Chr. Pat. 2009, 2038) and εὖ δ᾽ εἴη τύχη (Va). Cf. OT 1080–1
Τύχης … /
OC 642
Ζεῦ,
1435, Alc. 1004 χαῖρ᾽, ὦ πότνι᾽,
δὲ δοίης, Andr. 750, Or. 667. On the presumably substantival use of
in εὖ διδόναι and similar phrases see Fraenkel on Ag. 121 τὸ δ᾽
νικάτω.
595–674. This startling central scene comprises two separate strands of action, held together by Athena’s purpose and continuous presence on stage. Introduced as a divinity to check the Achaeans’ retreat and redirect them against Rhesus (of whose arrival they could not have learnt from Dolon), she is soon seen to demonstrate her support by distracting Paris in Aphrodite’s guise (642–67) and, as in Iliad 10, urging the Greeks to escape while they can (668–74n.). The result is an intricate and highly idiosyncratic combination of four themes particularly familiar from Homer: divine epiphany, assistance (both foreshadowed in Iliad 10), transformation and deceit.
Athena’s sudden, unannounced apparition must have surprised the audience as much as the characters on stage. Epiphanies rarely occur in the middle of a play. Our only surviving instance is Iris and Lyssa in HF 815–73,441 a scene that almost like a ‘second prologue’ prepares for the fundamental reversal of Heracles’ fortune. Consequently, the goddesses do not, as Athena here, interact with any of the characters, but merely talk to each other and (implicitly) the chorus, who in 815–21 had fearfully greeted their arrival. In lost tragedies Lyssa, probably on Dionysus’ order (Dodds, Bacchae2, xxx-xxxi), appeared in A. Xantriae (fr. 169) ἐπιθειάζουσα ταῖς Βάκχαις, and in a papyrus fragment attributed to S. Niobe (fr. 441a) Apollo speaks, while Artemis is killing the heroine’s daughters.442 Athena’s outburst in S. Ajax Locrus (fr. 10c) also seems to fit best in an intermediate position.443 The most notorious case, A. Psychostasia (TrGF III, 374–6), must be handled with care, for even if we do not follow Taplin (Stagecraft, 431–3) in totally rejecting the testimonial evidence, there is no proof that Zeus’ weighing of the souls took place in mid-play and not rather during the prologue.444
Like so many tragic deities, Athena most likely appears ‘on high’, stepping into sight on top of the skene; contrast the Muse, who uses the mechane (882–9n.). This is indicated by the suddenness of her entry and departure, which would be much diminished if she just walked up one of the eisodoi (D. J. Mastronarde, Cl. Ant. 9 [1990], 275;445 cf. S. Perris, G&R 59 [2012], 155 n. 23, 160–1). Since, moreover, the two sides at stage level represent the ways to the opposing Greek and Thracian camps, such an arrangement would conflict with the notion that she presumably comes straight down from Olympus (cf. R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 [1996], 269, although he confuses the directions of the camps).
A raised position – more obviously outside the characters’ vision –would also add a physical dimension to Athena’s invisibility, which cannot simply be due to the imaginary darkness. At 608–9 Odysseus identifies her by her voice, as he does in the Ajax prologue, where Athena is ἄποπτος, ‘out of sight’ (15), and we have other reasons for placing her ‘on high’.446 Similarly, at Hipp. 1391–3 (cf. Barrett on 1283) Hippolytus recognises Artemis only by her divine fragrance. In Paris’ case we lack decisive verbal clues as to whether he sees Athena or not, since her self-introduction as Cypris (646) could be interpreted either way. But the poet’s obvious intention of creating a distorted mirror image of the previous scene (642–74n.) and the fact that she cannot possibly change costume on stage clearly point to the latter. Her ‘transformation’ then need not have been more than a modulation of voice and perhaps a few characteristic poses and gestures for the audience’s pleasure.447
Ever since Valckenaer (Diatribe, 111) the prologue of Ajax (1–133) has been identified as the chief model for this scene. Apart from the general situation and various verbal echoes (A. D. Nock, CR 44 [1930], 173–4; cf. 608–10, 608–9a, 609b–10, 637b–9, 642–3, 649–50, 653–4a, 656–60, 668–9nn.), the episodes are almost identical in structure and sometimes comparable in content. Both open with a thirteen-line speech of Athena, which leads into dialogue with Odysseus and in our play also Diomedes (Ai. 1–90, Rh. 595–641). The first part of each conversation (Ai. 1–65, Rh. 595–626) mainly conveys information about the enemy, while the second (Ai. 66–90, Rh. 627–41) prepares for the following deception scenes. During Athena’s exchange with Paris (Rh. 642–67) the Achaeans are naturally absent, but in Ai. 91–117 Odysseus also recedes into the background, ignored by the goddess and invisible to the bewitched Ajax. When her victims have left in reliance on their divine ‘ally’, Athena briefly returns to her protégés (Ai. 118–33, Rh. 668–74), before the choruses (re-)enter in the parodos and epiparodos respectively.
The parallel helps to establish Odysseus’ dominance in the team and special relationship to Athena, which are not yet fully developed in Iliad 10 (609b–10, 668–74nn.). Otherwise comparison merely highlights the substantial differences in dramatic function and spiritual impact between the two scenes. Naturally for a prologue, most explanations given in Ai. 1–65 are aimed at the audience as well as Odysseus, whereas in Rhesus the only thing that is new to all is the hero’s genuine importance for the war (595–641, 600–4nn.). The Athena of Ai. 1–133 is severe and remote, a manifestation of divine power over men, which moves Odysseus to pity his greatest enemy. In our passage she may seem less dignified or even capricious, but the way she controls friend and foe alike goes far beyond Ajax and all else we know from epic and fifth-century tragedy (Strohm 260–1, 262–3; cf. e.g. Fenik, Iliad X, 23–4).
595–641. In bringing the story back to Iliad 10, Athena formally resembles the ‘complete-reversal dei ex machina’ of Philoctetes and Orestes, who intervene at the last possible minute to prevent an outcome that would be contrary to the mythical tradition (cf. Willink, Orestes, xxix–xxx). Neoptolemus and Philoctetes especially would have departed for the wrong destination, had not Heracles reminded them of Zeus’ purposes. But while in these plays the aberration comes from the human characters’ disposition and their failure or unwillingness to perceive the truth (A. Spira, Untersuchungen zum Deus ex machina bei Sophokles und Euripides, Kallmünz 1960, 144–5, 157), Odysseus and Diomedes here lack factual knowledge, which (as the plot is conceived) can only be supplied by a god.
The first part of this scene (595–626) can be seen as a dramatisation of Il. 10.433–41, with allusions to Il. 10.278–9, 463–4, 474–5, 479–81, 482–501 and 544–63 interspersed (609b–10, 611–12, 616–21, 616–17, 620b–1, 622–3, 624–6nn.). In Athena’s mouth, however, Dolon’s betrayal is turned into a divine order to kill Rhesus (and steal his horses), enhanced by her revelation that for the final success of the Greeks he must not survive the night. This adaptation of the oracle in ΣAD Il. 10.435 (Introduction, 12, 600–4n.) may come as a surprise, validating as it does Rhesus’ martial boasts in 447–53 (cf. 388–526n.), but it suits Athena’s repeated references to fate (597–8, 605–7, 634–7) and was doubtless meant to give Rhesus’ death a more elevated note.
As an instigator of the main attack Athena owes something to Pindar’s version (fr. 262 Sn.–M.), where on Hera’s orders she initiated the entire night-raid after Rhesus’ one-day aristeia had done considerable harm to the Greeks (Introduction, 11–12). If our poet had this episode in mind (and the author of the second spurious prologue certainly had), the need to replace that unsuitable motivation may have been another reason to insert the ‘oracle’.
The second section (627–41) leads up to Paris’ arrival and Athena’s outrageous scheme. Here the question arises whether the whole scene could be played with three actors or a fourth was required for the Trojan. Battezzato in an re-examination of this much-discussed problem (CQ n.s. 50 [2000], 367–73) convincingly argues for the latter, taking into consideration the local division of the backstage area and the actors’ movements this entails. With the conventional number, Paris’ role could only be played by Odysseus, who might leave after 626. However, as the Thracian and the Trojan camps are to be imagined on the audience’s left and right respectively, the actor would not only have to change costume, but also walk to the opposite eisodos, which seems impossible within fifteen or – for the reverse procedure between 664 and 675 (681, in Diggle’s order, at the latest) – even fewer iambic trimeters.448 At A. Suppl. 951–80 the Egyptian Herald has 29 lines (iambics and recitative anapaests) to return as Danaus from the other side, and the actor of the Nurse and the Old Man in Trachiniae needs to cover only half the distance during the choral ode 947–70.449 The change from Electra to the Phrygian in Or. 1353–68 just requires going in and out of the skene, while again a sung strophe intervenes (cf. Pickard-Cambridge, DFA2 147, Willink on Or. 1350–2).
The use of a fourth actor may not have been without precedent. Pylades’ crucial lines at Cho. 900–2 would be infinitely more effective if he uttered them suddenly as Orestes’ ever-silent companion (Taplin, Stagecraft, 353–4),450 and in Oedipus Coloneus a supernumerary would help to avoid the distribution of Theseus’ part among two or more likely all three regular actors. But Ismene’s long silence in 1099–1555 suggests she was there represented by an extra, and for lack of conclusive evidence the possibility of role-splitting cannot be ruled out (e.g. Pickard-Cambridge, DFA2 142–4, G. Sifakis, in A. Griffiths [ed.], Stage Directions: Essays … in Honour of E. W. Handley, London 1995, 19–21).
If Odysseus’ actor does not play Paris, he probably remains on stage after 626 despite Athena’s second-person dialogue with Diomedes. A brief recess to the margin would be preferable to a totally unmotivated (and formally ill-contrived)451 exit, especially since we should expect the pair to remain together. So also the Charioteer at 773–5 λεύσσω δὲ ϕῶτε περιπολοῦνθ᾽ ἡμῶν στρατόν / πυκνῆς δι᾽ ὄρϕνης· ὡς δ᾽ ἐκινήθην ἐγώ, / ἐπτηξάτην τε κἀνεχωρείτην πάλιν (O. Menzer, De Rheso Tragoedia, diss. Berlin 1867, 41–2; cf. Liapis on 624–6).
595–8a: ‘Where are you going, leaving the Trojan ranks, stung in the heart by pain that a god does not grant you to kill Hector or Paris?’
λιπόντε Τρωϊκῶν ἐκ τάξεων: The pregnant use of intransitive λείπω with ἐκ is unusual, but can be compared to that of ἀπολείπω in Thuc. 3.10.2 ἀπολιπόντων μὲν ὑμῶν ἐκ τοῦ Μηδικοῦ πολέμου, 5.4.4 ἀπολιπόντες ἐκ τῶν Συρακουσῶν, Pl. Phd. 112c 3–4 ὅταν τε αὖ ἐκεῖθεν μὲν ἀπολίπῃ (sc. τὸ ὕδωρ), Phd. 78a10–b1 and Gorg. 497c5 (KG I 545 with n. 4c). It is also found metaphorically at HF 133 τὸ δὲ κακοτυχὲς οὐ λέλοιπεν ἐκ τέκνων and probably S. El. 513–15 οὔ τί πω / ἔλιπεν ἐκ τοῦδ᾽ οἴκου / πολύπονος αἰκεία, where see Finglass (on 514) for οἴκου as against the variant οἴκους, favoured by Dawe and Bond (on HF 133). We therefore need not strain the syntax and verse pattern here by taking ἐκ τάξεων with χωρεῖτε (Vater on 579, Dindorf, Paley, Ammendola and, more hesitantly, Porter on 595) or emend λιπόντε so as to facilitate this construction.452
While τάξεων (‘ranks of soldiers’) is here used of an encamped army (cf. 519–20n.), the whole expression looks similar to (ἐκ)λείπω τὴν τάξιν (e.g. Hdt. 5.75.3, And. 1.74), which may suggest that, paradoxically, Athena equates the Achaeans’ retreat with desertion.
λύπῃ καρδίαν δεδηγμένοι: Cf. Alc. 1100 … λύπῃ καρδίαν δηχθήσομαι, Ar. Ach. 1 ὅσα δὴ δέδηγμαι τὴν ἐμαυτοῦ καρδίαν (with Olson), Vesp. 374–5 ὡς ἐγὼ τοῦτόν γ᾽ … ποιή- / σω δακεῖν τὴν / καρδίαν, Ag. 1470–1 κράτος … / καρδιόδηκτον ἐμοί, Hdt. 7.16α.2 ἐμὲ δὲ … οὐ τοσοῦτον ἔδακε λύπη, Pl. Symp. 218a2–7. For earlier examples of ‘getting stung in the heart (as by an insect)’, see West on Hes. Th. 567 and Op. 450–1, 799.
Wecklein’s tentative δεδηγμένω, accepted by Kovacs, gains support from the similar errors in 586 (585–6n.), 595, 619 and 784 and would make the alternation of numbers as regular as in Ar. Av. 42–8. But there is no fixed rule with regard to this phenomenon (KG I 73), and duals are combined with plural participles in e.g. Il. 5. 244–5 ἄνδρ᾽ ὁρόω κρατερὼ ἐπὶ σοὶ μεμαῶτε μάχεσθαι, / ἶν᾽ ἀπέλεθρον ἔχοντας, 11.621–3, 16.218–19 (where metrical considerations do not apply) and Xen. Mem. 1.2.33. See also KG I 70 and SD 50 on dual nouns with plural adjectives.
εἰ μὴ … / δίδωσιν: conditional instead of a substantival clause with ὅτι after a verb, or verbal phrase, expressing emotion (KG II 369–70, LSJ s.v. εἰ B V).
598b–9. Athena’s bare rhetorical question contrasts with the shepherd’s elaborate account of Rhesus’ arrival in 284–316 (264–341n.).
οὐ ϕαύλῳ τρόπῳ: ‘in grand style’, referring to Rhesus’ appearance (301–8) as well as his enormous army (309–13), for which cf. Phoen. 112–13 οὐ γάρ τι ϕαύλως ἦλθε Πολυνείκης χθόνα, / πολλοῖς μὲν ἵπποις, μυρίοις δ᾽ ὅπλοις βρέμων. Comparable phrases with τρόπῳ denoting ‘modes of behaviour which one regulates oneself’ (Bond on HF 282) end the lines at Med. 751 … ἑκουσίῳ τρόπῳ, Hel. 1547 … ποιητῷ τρόπῳ, Ar. Thesm. 961 (4tr‸ lyr.) … χορομανεῖ τρόπῳ and Lyc. 1400 … ἀστεργεῖ τρόπῳ. Sept. 282–4 ἐγὼ δέ γ᾽ ἄνδρας ἓξ ἐμοὶ ξὺν ἑβδόμῳ / ἀντηρέτας ἐχθροῖσι τὸν μέγαν τρόπον / εἰς ἑπτατειχεῖς ἐξόδους τάξω μολών is difficult and perhaps corrupt (Hutchinson on 283). On the Euripidean character of ϕαῦλος see 285n.
600–4. These lines recall the oracle that promised invincibility to Rhesus and his horses if they took Trojan water and food (Introduction, 12, 595–641n.). But in true Iliadic manner the magic element in the condition has largely been suppressed (Fenik, Iliad X, 15 n. 4, 16, 26, J. Griffin, JHS 97 [1977], 40), and in the apodosis (note the cautious potential optative) Athena speaks of a great aristeia as envisaged by the Shepherd (315–16, 335), the chorus (370b–9, 461–3) and Rhesus himself (particularly 391–2, 447–53, 461–3), rather than the superhuman qualities ascribed to him in the second stasimon (355, 358–9, 370a) and the ensuing anapaests (385–7). The result is a superficially realistic tone more in keeping with Iliad 10 and Pindar’s version (Introduction, 11–12, 595–641n.), from which the aristeia-motif seems to derive.
600. διοίσει νύκτα τήνδ᾽᾽: ‘lives through …’, as in e.g. Hdt. 3.40.2 καί κως βούλομαι … οὕτω διαϕέρειν τὸν αἰῶνα (LSJ s.v. διαϕέρω I 2). The verb is uniquely absolute in 982 (981–2n.) ἄπαις διοίσει.
ἐς αὔριον: ‘until tomorrow’. Cf. 96 (96–8n.) … οὐ μένειν ἐς αὔριον.
601–2. The diction resembles 461–3 (n.) πῶς μοι τὸ σὸν ἔγχος Ἀχιλλεὺς ἂν δύναιτο, / πῶς δ᾽ Αἴας ὑπομεῖναι; For the pairing of Rhesus and Achilles see 314–16n.
Ἀχιλλεύς: Va alone preserves the truth. All other MSS have Ἀχιλλέως by assimilation.
μή: Nauck’s μὴ <οὐ> (II3 [1871], XXXIV) would give the regular construction with a verb of preventing, but note the unemendable OT 1387–8 οὐκ ἂν ἐσχόμην / τὸ μὴ ἀποκλῇσαι τοὐμὸν ἄθλιον δέμας, with Denniston–Page on Ag. 1169–71 (citing A. C. Moorhouse, CQ 34 [1940], 70–7), Davies on Tr. 90–1 and KG II 216–18 n. 9 h, n.
ναύσταθμ᾽: 135b–6n.
603–4. ‘after utterly destroying the walls and with his spear making a broad gap for invasion inside the gates.’
τείχη κατασκάψαντα: Cf. 391b–2 (n.) συγκατασκάψων … / τείχη, OC 1421 πάτραν κατασκάψαντι, Tro. 1263 κατασκάψαντες πόλιν, Thuc. 4.109.1 Μεγαρῆς … τὰ μακρὰ τείχη … κατέσκαψαν … ἐς ἔδαϕος, Lys. 12.40 and Isoc. 14.35. The basic meaning of the verb, ‘dig up’ (Thphr. HP 4.13.5), is still present at Ag. 525–6 Τροίαν κατασκάψαντα τοῦ δικηϕόρου / Διὸς μακέλλῃ (cf. Fraenkel on 525 ff., Denniston–Page on 525) and Ar. Nub. 1486–8 καὶ σμινύην ϕέρων / … / τὸ τέγος κατάσκαπτ᾽.
λόγχῃ πλατεῖαν ἐσδρομὴν ποιούμενον: Before Rhesus, ἐσδρομή is attested only in Thuc. 2.25.2 and afterwards not again until the first century BC. But the periphrasis here follows a familiar pattern (KG I 106) and can be compared to προσβολὴν (-ὰς) ποιοῦμαι in e.g. Hdt. 3.158.1, 4.128.3 and Thuc. 5.61.4. Understanding the noun as denoting the result of the action (‘gap for invasion’: cf. Schwyzer 422, Barrett, Collected Papers, 329), rather than the action itself, also helps to mitigate its use with πλατύς, which in its literal sense does not otherwise qualify a genuine abstract. Nevertheless, one may wonder whether our poet had in mind a verse-opening like E. fr. 495.29–30 (Captive Melanippe) [λόγ]χῃ πλατείᾳ συοϕόνῳ δι᾽ ἥπατος / [παίσ]ας.
605–7. The lines refer back to and elaborate on 597–8, where Athena had indirectly confirmed Odysseus’ assertion (583–4) that Hector is divinely protected and thus not fated to die at their hands. For the reason of this re-direction Fenik (Iliad X, 24 n. 2) compares Il. 5.669–76. There Odysseus ponders whether he should pursue the wounded Sarpedon or attack the main body of Lycians, and Athena turns his mind towards the latter because it was not μόρσιμον for him to kill ‘the powerful son of Zeus’ (Il. 5.674–5). In 634–5 Diomedes will receive a similar warning with regard to Paris.
605–6. ‘If you kill him, you will have everything. So leave aside Hector’s sleeping-place and (the idea of) killing him by decapitation.’
τοῦτον κατακτὰς πάντ᾽᾽ ἔχεις: For both expression and content cf. Ant. 497–8 (Αν.) θέλεις τι μεῖζον ἢ κατακτεῖναί μ᾽ ἑλών; / (Κρ.) ἐγὼ μὲν οὐδέν· τοῦτ᾽ ἔχων ἅπαντ᾽ ἔχω and Rh. 481 (n.) οὔκουν κτανόντες τούσδε πάντ᾽ εἰργάσμεθα;
The ‘present for future’ (KG I 137–9, SD 273, FJW on A. Suppl. 405–6) mainly stands in oracles and prophecies (e.g. Pi. Ol. 8.42, Ag. 126, Ar. Eq. 1086–7, Hdt. 7.140.2) and ‘for rhetorical emphasis’ in the apodosis of hypothetical periods or with a conditional participle (e.g. Cho. 509, Phil. 117, Andr. 381, Hdt. 6.109.6). Here we have both, as in PV 511–13 οὐ ταῦτα ταύτῃ Μοῖρά πω τελέσϕορος / κρᾶναι πέπρωται, μυρίαις δὲ πημοναῖς / δύαις τε καμϕθεὶς ὧδε δεσμὰ ϕυγγάνω and 524–5 τόνδε γὰρ σῴζων ἐγώ, / δεσμοὺς ἀεικεῖς καὶ δύας ἐκϕυγγάνω.
This use of the present is particularly rare with durative verbs. In addition to Ant. 498 (above), note Pers. 211–14 παῖς ἐμός / πράξας μὲν addition to Ant. 498 (above), note Pers. 211-14 / εὖ θαυμαστὸς ἂν γένοιτ᾽ ἀνήρ, / κακῶς δὲ πράξας – οὐχ ὑπεύθυνος πόλῃ, / σωθεὶς δ᾽ ὁμοίως τῆσδε κοιρανεῖ χθονός, Hdt. 6.109.6, 7.140.2 and Thuc. 6.91.3 (with FJW quoted above).453
τὰς δ᾽᾽ … / εὐνάς: 1n.
καρατόμους σϕαγάς: With Ἕκτορος belonging to it, this phrase perhaps developed from reminiscence of Tro. 562–6 σϕαγαὶ δ᾽ ἀμϕιβώμιοι / Φρυγῶν ἔν τε δεμνίοις / καράτομος ἐρημία / νεανίδων στέϕανον ἔϕερεν / Ἑλλάδι κουροτρόϕον (the end of the poignant ode on the fall of Troy) and Andr. 399 σϕαγὰς … Ἕκτορος τροχηλάτους. Yet the adjective is active (καρατόμος) rather than passive here, as in E. fr. 228a. 10 … and Lyc. 187 … Ἑλλάδος καρατόμον (i.e. Iphigenia), the only other instances if we exclude Kayser’s dubious καρατόμα in Ag. 1091. Cf. A. Fries, CQ n.s. 60 (2010), 349 with n. 19, Introduction, 36–7 and, for the verb, 585–6n.
Both Greeks and Trojans in Rhesus speak of beheading their enemies (dead or alive), although the verbal borrowing here and in 585–6 seems to make it more of a coincidence for Odysseus and Diomedes than for Dolon in 219–23 and 257b–60 (nn.). σϕαγή in its various applications is a favourite of Euripides, who has 49 certain cases as opposed to six in Aeschylus (+ PV 863) and seven in Sophocles.
607. ἔσται: OΛ. Liapis (‘Notes’, 83) draws attention to ἥξει (Va1s). But this merely restores the future tense to Va’s ἥκει, which looks like a scribal replacement (in V or some earlier copy) of the correct reading (ἥκει γάρ opens the line at Rh. 325, Ag. 522, Phil. 758, Hel. 1200, Or. 53). The Va-copyist was given to emending his text (Introduction, 49).
ἐξ ἄλλης χερός: i.e. Achilles.
608–10. In content Odysseus’ greeting resembles Ai. 14–17 ὦ ϕθέγγμ᾽ Ἀθάνας, ϕιλτάτης ἐμοὶ θεῶν, / ὡς εὐμαθές σου, κἂν ἄποπτος ᾖς ὅμως, / ϕώνημ᾽ ἀκούω καὶ ξυναρπάζω ϕρενί / χαλκοστόμου κώδωνος ὡς Τυρσηνικῆς, whereas its syntax has a Euripidean flavour (608–9a, 609b–10nn.).
608–9a. δέσποιν᾽ Ἀθάνα: likewise E. Suppl. 1227. The title (for Athena also e.g. Ai. 38, E. fr. 370.118, Ar. Pax 271) expresses the humility of men before the gods (Barrett on Hipp. 88–9). On Doric Ἀθάνα in spoken verse see 501–2n.
γάρ explains the vocative, i.e. why Odysseus knows who has just spoken. Cf. OC 891 ὦ ϕίλτατ᾽, ἔγνων γὰρ τὸ προσϕώνημά σου and especially Hec. 1114-15 / ϕωνῆς ἀκούσας (GP 69, 80, 581, Barrett on Hipp. 88–9).
ᾐσθόμην: ‘recognise (a voice)’, as again in the first person singular aorist at Hec. 1114–15 (above) and Ba. 178–9 ὦ ϕίλταθ᾽, ὡς σὴν γῆρυν ᾐσθόμην κλυών / σοϕὴν σοϕοῦ παρ᾽ ἀνδρός (cf. Mastronarde on Phoen. 141–4). In both these passages and OC 891 (above) the speaker is blind and so, like Odysseus here, unable to see his interlocutor.
609b–10. Athena’s unfailing support for Odysseus is also acknowledged at the end of his first speech in the Ajax prologue: Ai. 34–5 πάντα γὰρ τά τ᾽ οὖν πάρος / τά τ᾽ εἰσέπειτα σῇ κυβερνῶμαι χερί. But verbally our passage comes closer to Il. 10.278–9 ἥ τέ μοι αἰεί / ἐν πάντεσσι πόνοισι παρίστασαι (~ Od. 13.300–1; cf. e.g. Il. 23.782–3, Od. 20.47–8). For the development and implications of this unique bond between the hero and his patron goddess see M. W. M. Pope, AJPh 81 (1960), 113–35 (particularly 119–24) and, from a radically unitarian perspective, W. B. Stanford, The Ulysses Theme …, Oxford 21968, 25–42.
γάρ refers to συνήθη, supposing an ellipse: ‘The sound of your voice is familiar to me because … ’ (GP 65–6).
ἀεί ποτε: also 653–4a (n.) ἀεί ποτ᾽ εὖ ϕρονοῦσα τυγχάνεις πόλει / κἀμοί. In poetry ἀεί ποτε is virtually confined to drama, with more occurrences in Euripides (8) than in all other extant tragedy together (Ai. 320, Ant. 456, Critias TrGF 43 F 7.10,454 Sclerias? TrGF 213 F 2.3). In view of our scanty evidence, one must not lay too much weight on such an inconspicuous phrase, but it may add another Euripidean touch to the language of this passage.
611–12. Odysseus’ double question adapts his more general prayer to Athena at Il. 10.463–4 ἀλλὰ καὶ αὖτις / πέμψον ἐπὶ Θρῃκῶν ἀνδρῶν ἵππους τε καὶ εὐνάς.
κατηύνασται: a regular, but unique perfect form of εὐνάζω and its compounds. Dindorf (III.2 [1840], 612) restored the reduplication, which is not omitted in drama and only very rarely shortened before the third century BC (Lautensach, Augment, 47–9, 181–2, Threatte I 385, II 486). Cf. 580–1n.
πόθεν: almost equivalent to ποῦ after a common Greek idiom, which defined a place by direction or movement from a starting point. Cf. e.g. Rh. 695 πόθεν νιν κυρήσω; OC 503–5 (Ισ.) … τὸν τόπον δ᾽ ἵνα / χρἤσται μ᾽ ὑπουργεῖν, τοῦτο βούλομαι μαθεῖν. / (Χο.) τοὐκεῖθεν ἄλσους … τοῦδ᾽, E. Suppl. 756–8, S. Tr. 938–9 ἀλλὰ πλευρόθεν / πλευρὰν παρεὶς ἔκειτο πόλλ᾽ ἀναστένων, IT 1348–9 (ὁρῶμεν …) τοὺς νεανίας / … πρύμνωθεν ἑστῶτας νεώς. Expressions like PV 714 λαιᾶς … χειρός and Cyc. 681 ποτέρας τῆς χερός (also adduced by Paley and Porter) are probably partitive local genitives and do not belong in this category (KG I 385, SD 112).
613–15. Athena’s description echoes Hector at 519–20 (n.). After 526 he led Rhesus and his retinue down the left eisodos, opposite the direction to the Trojan camp.
613. ἧσται: ‘is encamped’, as in 846 σὺ πρόσθεν ἡμῶν ἧσο καὶ Φρυγῶν στρατός and e.g. Il. 18.509 τὴν δ᾽ ἑτέρην πόλιν ἀμϕὶ δύω στρατοὶ εἵατο λαῶν, E. Suppl. 357 παρ᾽ ὅπλοις … ἥμενος.
614–15. ‘… but Hector has allocated him a resting-place outside the ranks, until night passes into daylight.’
ἐκτὸς … τάξεων: 519–20n. (τοῦ τεταγμένου δίχα).
κατηύνασεν: 580–1n.
ἕως ἂν νὺξ ἀμείψηται ϕάος: The transmitted νύξ should be retained and ἀμείψηται then explained as ‘shall have taken light in exchange for itself’, i.e. ‘shall have given place to day’ (Paley on 615), or, with Porter (on 615), as an extension of the verb’s physical sense ‘pass into’ (LSJ s.v. ἀμείβω B II 2). In any case one may compare fr. tr. adesp. 692 col. II 14–16 ἵνα τε Νὺξ (Radt:
ϕόρον αἴγλαν / ἀοῖον [ἀ]ν᾽ αἰθέρα, /
μέριον ϕάος – from an ode that has variously been ascribed to the fourth century, the Hellenistic age or, in view of its similarities to Phaeth. 63–6 Diggle = E. fr. 773.19–22, even Euripides himself (Radt, TrGF II, 284; cf. M. Fantuzzi, BMCR 2006.02.18, on 615).
Diggle, Kovacs and Liapis (cf. ‘Notes’, 83–4) accept Lenting’s νύκτ᾽ (Animadversiones, 75) while also understanding daylight to supplant the night. But with ϕάος as subject this would require a genitive as in e.g. Il. 11.547 γόνυ γουνὸς ἀμείβων, Hel. 1186–7 πέπλους μέλανας … / λευκῶν ἀμείψασ᾽ and 1533 ἔργου δ᾽ ἔργον ἐξημείβετο (KG I 378, SD 127). At Med. 1266–7 καὶ ζαμενὴς (Porson: δυσμενὴς codd.) <ϕόνου> / ϕόνος ἀμείβεται Diggle rightly prefers Wecklein’s <ϕόνου> to Hermann’s and Weil’s <ϕόνον>, endorsed by Dodds (Humanitas 4 [1952], 15–18), on the ground that ἀμείβομαι with the accusative cannot possibly mean ‘succeed’ or ‘being succeeded by’ without a connotation of requital or exchange (CQ n.s. 34 [1984], 63 = Euripidea, 293–4). This sense of reciprocity is clearly present in our paradosis, but would be as alien to Lenting’s text as it is to Med. 1266–7, and some spatial notion as ‘to pass out through’ (LSJ s.v. ἀμείβω B II 2, Garvie on Cho. 965–6) would again have to be employed.
616–21. Unlike Dolon in Il. 10.436–41, Athena centres her description on Rhesus’ marvellous horses. We are ironically reminded of Il. 10.544–63, where Nestor wonders whether a god has given them to the two Achaeans (he mentions Zeus and Athena) and Odysseus explains how they captured them themselves.
616–17. πέλας δὲ πῶλοι Θρῃκίων ἐξ ἁρμάτων / λευκαὶ δέδενται adapts Il. 10.474–5 Ῥῆσος δ᾽ ἐν μέσῳ ηὗδε, παρ᾽ αὐτῷ δ᾽ ὠκέες ἵπποι / ἐξ ἐπιδιϕριάδος πυμάτης ἱμᾶσι δέδεντο. Yet the vocabulary is closer to Hippon. fr. 72.5–6 IEG ἐπ᾽ ἁρμάτων τε καὶ Θρεϊκίων πώλων / λευκῶν (… ἀπηναρίσθη Ῥῆσος). For the gender of the team-horses see 185n. and for the practice of tying them to the chariot 27, 567–8a nn.
Θρῃκίων ἐξ ἁρμάτων: Cf. also 302 (301b–2n.) … Θρῃκίοις τ᾽ ὀχήμασιν. The chariot is described more fully in Il. 10.438 ~ Rh. 303–4, 306b–8 (nn.).
διαπρεπεῖς ἐν εὐϕρόνῃ: ‘conspicuous in the night’ (cf. 91–2n.). Normally διαπρεπής is used in the more figurative sense ‘distinguished, magnificent’ (LSJ s.v.),455 but see perhaps Chaerem. TrGF 71 F 1.2 στίλβοντα λευκῷ διαπρεπῆ (which could be a linguistic imitation of Rh. 616–18). Also the verb in the famous Pi. Ol. 1.1–2 … ὁ δὲ χρυσὸς αἰθόμενον πῦρ / ἅτε διαπρέπει νυκτὶ μεγάνορος ἔξοχα πλούτου. The gleaming white horses are meant to act as a signpost for the Greeks.
618. δ᾽᾽: 132n.
ὥστε ποταμίου κύκνου πτερόν: For comparative ὥστε (Λ: ὥσπερ ΔgB, Chr. Pat. 2058) in tragedy see 301b–2n. With ποτάμιος uniquely applied to a swan, the following phrase may be a conflation of Hel. 215 χιονόχρῳ κύκνου πτερῷ (metrically identical, but with an epithet which in the genitive here would not scan) and E. El. 151–2 κύκνος ἀχέτας / ποταμίοις παρὰ χεύμασιν, where the adjective stands close by, but not in conjuction with, κύκνος (A. Fries, CQ n.s. 60 [2010], 349, Introduction, 36–7).
In Il. 10.437 and Rh. 304 Rhesus’ horses are said to be whiter than snow. Elsewhere in drama the swan or its plumage is associated with the white hair of age: HF 110–11, 692–4, Ba. 1365, Ar. Vesp. 1064–5 and presumably PV 795, where the Graiae, who like Cycnus (‘Hes.’ fr. 237 M.–W.) were ‘white-haired from birth’ (Hes. Th. 270–1), are called κυκνόμορϕοι (Griffith on PV 794–6, Bond on HF 110). Or. 1385–6 is too corrupt to make anything of the MSS’ κυκνόπτερον (-πτέρου Scaliger) with reference to Helen’s face.
619–20a. κάλλιστον οἴκοις σκῦλον: similarly 190 (189b–90n.) κάλλιστον οἴκοις κτῆμ᾽ … (of Achilles’ chariot). The present passage is perhaps echoed in IA [1629] κάλλιστά μοι σκῦλ᾽ ἀπὸ Τροίας ἑλών (i.e. Agamemnon), the last line of the late-antique addition to the play (IA 1578–1629, on which see M. L. West, BICS 28 [1981], 73–8 = Hellenica II, 318–25).
Normally σκῦλα denotes captured arms and armour (to be) dedicated in temples (cf. 179n.), although like σκυλεύματα (591–3n.) it can also refer to war-booty in general (Or. 1434; cf. Pritchett, GSW I, 55–6, V, 132–47). The unusual singular here must be due to the fact that the prospective loot consists of one specific item, i.e. the pair of horses regarded as a team. Likewise Aristopho fr. 11.8–9 PCG τὰς δὲ πτέρυγας ἃς εἶχε (sc. ὁ Ἔρως) τῇ Νίκῃ ϕορεῖν / ἔδοσαν, περιϕανὲς σκῦλον ἀπὸ τῶν πολεμίων, Plut. Aem. 21.1 (the sword Cato Licinianus lost in battle) and metaphorically E. El. 896–7 (Aegisthus) ὃν … θηρσὶν ἁρπαγὴν πρόθες, / ἢ σκῦλον οἰωνοῖσιν.
The word is found several times in Euripides and twice in Sophocles (Phil. 1428, 1431), but not in Aeschylus.
620b–1. ‘For nowhere else does the earth hold such a team of chariot-horses.’
Athena’s comment is reminiscent of Nestor at Il. 10.550 ἀλλ᾽ οὔ πω τοίους ἵππους ἴδον οὐδ᾽ ἐνόησα (cf. 616–21n.). But the wording is peculiar, for the epic-poetic κεύθω properly means ‘cover, conceal, shelter’ (171, 872nn.), and these notions remain with the perfect in the sense ‘contain’ (LSJ s.v. 11). Perhaps our poet again thought of Il. 22.118 ἄλλ᾽ … ὅσα τε πτόλις ἥδε κέκευθεν and/or took out of context a phrase like Od. 3.16 ὅπου κύθε γαῖα – of Odysseus, presumed dead (Liapis on 619–21).
ὄχημα … πωλικόν: Cf. 797–8 (n.) ὄχημα πωλικόν / … ἵππων. In both passages is by extension used of the chariot-team, as at S. El. 740 κάρα … ἱππικῶν ὀχημάτων, Alc. 66–7 ἵππειον … ὄχημα, Hipp. 1355–6, Phaeth. 173 Diggle = E. fr. 779.6 and Tim. Pers. fr. 791.190–1 PMG = Hordern. See also 189b–90n.
622–3. The couplet is modelled on Il. 10.479–81 (Odysseus to Diomedes) ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε δὴ πρόϕερε κρατερὸν μένος· οὐδέ τί σε χρή / ἑστάμεναι μέλεον σὺν τεύχεσιν, ἀλλὰ λύ᾽ ἵππους· / ἠὲ σύ γ᾽ ἄνδρας ἔναιρε, μελήσουσιν δ᾽ ἐμοὶ ἵπποι. But the alternatives come in reverse order.
Θρῄκιον λεών: For a body of soldiers λαός (Attic λεώς) goes back to the Iliad (LSJ s.v. λαός I 1, LfgrE s.v. B 2; cf. 856–8n.). On the social implications of the term in epic and archaic to classical literature see J. Haubold, Homer’s People – Epic Poetry and Social Formation, Cambridge 2000 (particularly 153–60).
ἢ ᾽μοὶ πάρες γε (OΛ) is probably sound. γε most frequently follows disjunctives and other connecting particles ‘to define more sharply the new idea introduced’ (GP 119–20; cf. KG II 173). It therefore emphasises ᾽μοί here rather than the imperative, which would indeed be difficult to maintain (GP 125, Diggle, Studies, 22). The postponement of the particle is rare, but well attested in Homer and fifth-century drama (GP 150). If one wishes to emend, Reiske’s παράσχες (Animadversiones, 90) seems more attractive than Dobree’s somewhat too specific πάρες σϕε (Adversaria II [1833], 87 = IV [1874], 85).
σοὶ δὲ χρὴ πώλους μέλειν: so rightly Δ, after Il. 10.481 (above). Λ’s πώλων would make μέλειν impersonal, the usual construction in prose.
624–6. The decision corresponds to Il. 10.482–501, where Diomedes’ killing and Odysseus’ handling of the horses are described in detail.
624. πωλοδαμνήσεις: 187–8n.
625. ‘For you are well versed in subtleties and a clever thinker.’
This judgement about Odysseus shows remarkable verbal overlaps with Med. 686 σοϕὸς γὰρ ἁνὴρ καὶ τρίβων τὰ τοιάδε (of Pittheus) and E. fr. 473 ϕαῦλον, ἄκομψον, τὰ μέγιστ᾽ ἀγαθόν, / πᾶσαν ἐν ἔργῳ περιτεμνόμενον / σοϕίαν, λέσχης ἀτρίβωνα (of Heracles).
τρίβων … τὰ κομψά: With an accusative of respect τρίβων is paralleled only in Med. 686 (above), where, however, the neuter pronoun may help the construction. Elsewhere it takes a genitive on the analogy of ἔμπειρος and the like: e.g. Cyc. 519–20 (Odysseus speaking) Κύκλωψ, ἄκουσον· ὡς ἐγὼ τοῦ Βακχίου / τούτου τρίβων εἰμ᾽, ὃν πιεῖν ἔδωκά σοι, Ba. 717 τρίβων λόγων, Ar. Nub. 869, Vesp. 1429, Hdt. 4.74.
Both τρίβων and κομψός occur in Euripides alone of the tragedians (although Sophocles has κομψεύω at Ant. 324). The former is colloquial (Stevens, CEE 50–1, J. Taillardat, Les images d’Aristophane, Paris 1965, 229 n. 3) and seems to be used here in ironic approval, as at Cyc. 519–20 (above). κομψός apparently belongs to a higher linguistic register. It has the same ambivalence of meaning as English ‘smart’, with the pejorative tone prevailing in genuine Euripides (cf. Collard on E. Suppl. 426, ‘Supplement’, 375–6). In a positive sense of ‘Euripides’ in Ar. Thesm. 93 (cf. Introduction 29–30 with n. 36).
νοεῖν σοϕός: The infinitive is rare with σοϕός: S. fr. 524.7 … εὖ ϕρονεῖν σοϕώτερος, Med. 580 … σοϕὸς λέγειν (~ E. fr. 189.2) and, by implication, Hipp. 986–7 ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἄκομψος εἰς ὄχλον δοῦναι λόγον, / ἐς ἥλικας δὲ κὠλίγους σοϕώτερος.
626. ‘For one must station a man where he can be of greatest use.’
For this maxim Porter and others compare Ar. Vesp. 1431 ἔρδοι τις ἣν ἕκαστος εἰδείη τέχνην, a proverb still familiar to the Romans (Cic. Att. 5.10.3 o illud verum ‘ἔρδοι τις …’!, Tusc. 1.41 quam quisque norit artem, in hac se exerceat; cf. Hor. Ep. 1.14.44, Prop. 2.1.46, Cic. Off. 1.114). Feickert (on 626) adds Xen. Cyr. 8.5.15 ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ διασπᾶν … τακτικὸν ἡγεῖτο, καὶ τὸ τιθέναι γε τὸ μέρος ἕκαστον ὅπου μάλιστα ἐν ὠϕελείᾳ ἂν εἴη and, less well, E. fr. 184 (Antiope) ἐν τούτῳ <γέ τοι> / λαμπρός θ᾽ ἕκαστος κἀπὶ τοῦτ᾽ ἐπείγεται / … / ἵν᾽ αὐτὸς αὑτοῦ τυγχάνει βέλτιστος ὤν (reconstructed from Pl. Grg. 484e4–7).
δ᾽᾽: 132n.
627–9. Athena sees Alexandros approach (still off-stage as Diomedes’ next question proves) and warns the Achaeans. For this ‘actional’ entrance announcement (J. P. Poe, HSPh 94 [1992], 130–1) and the ensuing dialogue, which leads to the departure of the ‘endangered’ characters, cf. S. El. 1428–36 and, with fewer similarities, E. El. 962–87.
καὶ μήν … τόνδ᾽: For this ‘formula’ in entrance announcements see 85–6n.
στείχοντα: 85–6n.
δόξας ἀσήμους: ‘indistinct rumours’ (cf. 656–9). The basic meaning of ἄσημος in all its applications is that ‘there is nothing to σημαίνειν, to indicate, what it is’ (Barrett on Hipp. 269).
μεμβλωκότων: The epic perfect (Il. 4.11, 24.73, Od. 17.190) is attested nowhere else in classical Greek. On such verb forms in Rhesus see 523–5a n. (δέχθαι).
631–2. πρὸς εὐνὰς δ᾽ … Ἕκτορος: 1n. δέ quite often takes the third position after prepositional phrases involving a noun without article or a pronoun (KG II 268, GP 185–6).
κατόπτας … στρατοῦ: Cf. Sept. 36 … κατοπτῆρας στρατοῦ, 369 ...
(at the same verse-position) and Rh. 233-4 (233-5a n.) στρατιᾶς / Ἑλλάδος διόπτας. For a spy κατόπτης further appears in Hel. 1175, Rh. 134 (133–5a n.), 150, 155 and 558. At Sept. 41 αὐτὸς κατόπτης δ᾽ εἴμ᾽ ἐγὼ τῶν πραγμάτων the word has its original meaning ‘eyewitness’ (Pritchett, GSW I, 130), although military espionage remains implied.
633. ‘Does he not then have to be the first to die?’
οὔκουν: 161–2a n.
ὑπάρχειν … κατθανόντα: a curious expression, since ὑπάρχω as a full verb456 normally stresses the initiative of the subject-agent (LSJ s.v. A, B I 1, T. C. W. Stinton, Euripides and the Judgement of Paris, London 1965, 14 with n. 4 = Collected Papers, 27 with n. 4); so literally ‘Does he not then have to take the lead in dying?’ With a predicative participle it is otherwise attested only in Hdt. 6.133.1 πρόϕασιν ἔχων ὡς οἱ Πάριοι ὑπῆρξαν πρότεροι στρατευόμενοι τριήρεϊ ἐς Μαραθῶνα ἅμα τῷ Πέρσῃ, 7.8β.2, 9.78.2, Xen. An. 2.3.23 and 5.5.9, whence Fraenkel
(Rev. 239) suspected it to be an Ionism. Paley (on 633) notes that ‘[u]sually conveys the idea of some wrong or benefit, committed or received, which serves as the motive for further action in requital’. This is true in most instances (including all the ones cited), but need not be the case (Andr. 274–6
Διὸς τόκος, Pl. Tim. 41c8).
635. τοῦτον δὲ πρὸς σῆς χειρὸς οὐ θέμις θανεῖν: 605–7n. The formulation resembles OT 376–7 (Teiresias to Oedipus)
(376
Brunck:
… P. Oxy. 22, codd.).
Text and word-order here are reconstructed from Δ, where V has … … and O
(cf. L1m vel Trm:
VΛ), albeit in penultimate position by a characteristic display of the vitium Byzantinum (Introduction, 49 n. 7). Liapis (‘Notes’, 84) favours
οὐ θέμις χε<ι>ρὸς θανεῖν (after Λ). But this would leave the verse with only a weak (penthemimeral) caesura, whereas Δ’s reading adds a strong hephthemimeres.
132n.
636–9. Before her fateful deception of Hector Athena commands a similar ‘division of duties’ between Achilles and herself: Il. 22.222–3
636–7a. ‘But for whom you have come bringing slaughter appointed by fate, make haste (sc. to bring it)!’
By a rare inversion of the usual finite verb and (mostly aorist) participle of intransitive (e.g. Ai. 1164–6
…
/
OT 861), μορσίμους
must here also be understood with τάχυν᾽ (Paley on 637); cf. Hp. Mul. 3.222
and imperatival ἁνύω in Ar. Vesp. 1168
, Av. 241, Pl. 413 and Pherecr. fr. 44.1 PCG. Still the transition between the relative and the main clause seems extremely harsh, and one is tempted to suspect influence from Cho. 659–60
λόγους.
…
Kovacs prints οἷπερ ἥξεις. But his criticism of the paradosis as unclear (Euripidea Tertia, 148–9) is unfounded, if one takes ἥκεις to refer to Diomedes’ arrival in the Trojan camp. Moreover, (fere P2 ὧπερ:
Ω) creates a welcome antithesis with τοῦτον in 635 (D. J. Mastronarde, ElectronAnt 8 [2004], 21–2), and
(unlike σπεύδω) does not mean ‘hasten on one’s way’. Liapis (‘Notes’, 84–5) succumbs to a similarly over-literal reading of the MSS text.
637b–9. σύμμαχος … παραστατεῖν: Athena employs equally deceptively in Ai. 90 τί
; –
prompting Aj ax’ misguided reply in 91–2 ὦ χαῖρ᾽ Ἀθάνα, χαῖρε Διογενὲς
Note also his request in Ai. 117–18
(as παρέστης and παρεστάναι in Ai. 92 and 118) is reminiscent of Homeric
for the presence and assistance of a god (cf. P. Pucci, AJPh 115 [1994], 24). The latter half of the sentence
… παραστατεῖν) in particular echoes the language that in 609b–10 (n.)457 described the relationship between Athena and Odysseus, preparing for the ironic mirror scene between Paris and his supposed patroness.
… ‘I will reply … with unsound words’ (anticipating Paris’ address to the absent Hector in 642–5). σαθρός is a medical metaphor (LSJ s.v. 1), which has three parallels in Euripides: Hec. 1189–90
/
Suppl. 1064
(with Collard) and, of moral depravity, Ba. 487
Elsewhere in the fifth century it occurs only in Pi. Nem. 8.34
and Hdt. 6.109.5.
Cf. 585–6 τὸν ἔχθιστον Φρυγῶν / Πάριν.
640–1. ‘And that is my word; but the one to be affected does not know nor has he heard, in spite of being near to our conversation.’
: For this type of ‘formula’, ending a (usually longer) speech, see 130b n.
: Paris is the subject of both the infinitive and the main verbs. The expression is awkward (Fraenkel, Rev. 238), more for the antithesis between ὃν δὲ
and καὶ ταῦτ᾽ ἐγὼ μὲν
than for the hysteron proteron οἶδεν … ἤκουσεν.
λόγου has sometimes been taken with instead of ἐγγύς, which is grammatically possible (Hec. 967
ἀϕικόμην, Thuc. 4.37.1 τοῦ κηρύγματος ἀκούσαντες, 5.44.1
… ἀγγελίας [KG I 358, SD 107]), but almost certainly ruled out by the word-order. ἐγγὺς ὢν
then may be regarded as a variation on 149 (149–50n.) … οἳ
ἐν
in the sense that
is short for ‘where we were talking’.
The blissfully ignorant Paris recalls Ajax, who by Athena’s designs cannot see Odysseus (Ai. 69–70, 83–5) and knows nothing of their plot against him. But there is no hint at divine ‘magic’ here, and the remark was most likely meant to remind the audience that the actual conditions on stage had no consequences for the story told.
642–74. Nowhere in epic and fifth-century drama does a god masquerade as another god. If not invisible or in their own form, they appear to men as a mortal comrade (e.g. Aphrodite in Il. 3.383–95, Athena in Il. 4.86–104, 22.226–47) or a stranger like Hermes in Il. 24.347–469, Athena in Od. 7.19–81 and 13.221–88, Dionysus in Bacchae or Hera, who in A. fr. 168.16–30 (ascribed to Xantriae) meets the chorus in the guise of a begging priestess. Our nearest equivalent is Dionysus in Ar. Frogs, inadequately dressed up as the immortalised Heracles.458 Yet the mid-fourth-century comic poet Amphis had Zeus transform himself into Artemis before seducing Callisto, who later blames the goddess for the result (Amphis fr. 46 PCG; cf. A. Henrichs, in J. N. Bremmer [ed.] Interpretations of Greek Mythology, London – Sydney 1987, 262). A similar twist must have been intended here, where Athena likewise assumes a diametrically opposed identity in order to achieve her ends. This would suit the heyday of mythical parody (ca. 400–350 BC), although one may wonder how provocative, especially in a tragedy and with Athena as the protagonist, it was meant and perceived to be.
The interlude, which replaces a choral song or epirrhematic dialogue to cover the time of the Achaeans’ absence, serves to maintain the suspense and translates into action Athena’s personal involvement with the Greeks (Ritchie 125–6; cf. 670–1a n.). The encounter of Paris, ‘the most hated of the Phrygians’ (585–6n.), with his supposed patroness ironically reflects Odysseus’ relationship to Athena (637b–9, 653–4a nn.) and thus recalls the Iliadic antinomy between the two goddesses (Il. 5.330–3, 350–1, 428–30, 21.423–33). In particular we are reminded of Aphrodite’s rescue operation in Il. 3.373–82, her only successful intervention in the war (654b–5n.), and Athena’s final deception of Hector in Il. 22.222–305 (cf. 636–9n.). As a smaller-scale version of the latter her scheme here deprives the Trojans of a mighty ally and potential victory (600–4n.), just as Hector’s death seals the fall of the city (R. S. Bond, AJPh 117 [1996], 268). There is thus no doubt which tutelage prevails, and the ‘divine comedy’ of Athena’s transformation becomes merely another, essentially epic, way to express the gods’ superiority.
642–3. Hermann (Opuscula III, 287) aptly refers to Zeus’ malicious dream-figure speaking at Il. 2.23–5 (= 60–2) εὕδεις, υἱὲ δαΐϕρονος
/
χρὴ
, / ᾧ λαοί τ᾽ ἐπιτετράϕαται καὶ τόσσα
.459
σὲ τὸν … λέγω: ‘The abrupt acc[usative] calls the person’s attention in a rough and harsh way’ (Jebb on Ant. 441). Normally a descriptive apposition follows, whereas the verb of address may also be omitted (Barrett on Hipp. 1283–4). With a vocative following, as here, cf. Med. 271–3 σὲ καὶ πόσει θυμουμένην, / Μήδει᾽,
/ ϕυγάδα. Otherwise e.g. PV 944–6 σὲ
…
λέγω, Ai. 71–3, S. El. 1445–6 (with Finglass), Hel. 546–8 (with Kannicht), Ba. 912–13, Ar. Av. 274, Ran. 171.
Ἕκτορ: As usual, the name of the person addressed off-stage is supplied (cf. Dodds on Ba. 912–14).
σ᾽ ἐχρῆν (O) should not be reinterpreted as σε χρῆν. The ‘false’ augment with most probably arose on the analogy of ἔδει, when in instances such as ours ΣΕΧΡΗΝ (ΜΕΧΡΗΝ, ΔΕΧΡΗΝ) were read as σ᾽ ἐχρῆν (μ᾽ ἐχρῆν, δ᾽ ἐχρῆν). This form, apparently still avoided by Aeschylus and Sophocles, is metrically sanctioned several times in Euripides (e.g. Andr. 395, Suppl. 174, Ion 1314), Old Comedy (Ar. Ach. 540, Pax 135, Av. 364, Pl. Com. fr. 71.5 PCG) and later drama (frr. tr. adesp. 1b (g).20, 81.2,460 Alexis fr. 150.9 PCG, Men. Peric. 748, Sam. 551) and may thus also be recognised in uncertain cases. See Barrett on Hipp. 1072–3 (with sensible advice for treating the MSS evidence), Kannicht on Hel. 80.
644–5. ἡμῖν … στρατεύματι: For this type of apposition cf. Pi. Ol. 2.14–15 ἔτι πατρίαν σϕίσιν
/ λοιπῷ γένει, Ol. 9.98–9
/
and Ba. 336 (
…)
τιμὴ
τῷ
προσῇ (KG I 430 n. 2, SD 189–90 with n. 5).
ἄνδρες: Cf. 678–9, 709 (n.) κλωπὸς … ϕωτός, 777
…
and 205 (n.), 512 κλωπικός. The noun and its cognates are relatively common in classical prose, but rare in poetry: Cyc. 223 λῃσταί τινες
; Alc. 766, probably S. fr. 314.68 (Ichneutae) and later e.g. Lyc. 658, 1303.
κατάσκοποί τινες: 125–6a n.
646. ϕυλάσσω: Naber (Mnemosyne n.s. 10 [1882], 4–5) for (Ω). The first person calls attention to the speaker’s presence and is often found in divine self-introductions: Rh. 890–2
γὰρ … Μοῦσα …
πάρειμι, Hipp. 1285
δὲ
σ᾽ Ἄρτεμις αὐδῶ (with Barrett), Andr. 1232
Νηρέως δόμους, Hel. 1643–4, Ba. 1–2, 1340–1. Moreover,
for ἐγώ here precludes a third-person verb, as is metrically guaranteed in E. El. 1238–9
δέ
/
μητρὸς συγγόνοι Διόσκοροι. Cf. OT 41
σε πάντες οἵδε πρόστροποι, Hel. 1168
ὅδε
(Lenting: -ει L), πάτερ (with Dale) and Or. 1626
σ᾽ ὁ Λητοῦς
ὅδ᾽ ἐγγὺς ὢν καλῶ.
The same (very easy) corruption occurs at Or. 1226, where Herwerden’s and Cobet’s is confirmed by ΣM (I 210.27 Schwartz) ἀντὶ
σε, and perhaps Ar. Ach. 406 and E. El. 1238–9.461 In Alc. 167, Hipp. 1285 and Or. 1626 the MSS are divided.
πρευμενής: an Aeschylean favourite (thirteen references), taken over by Euripides: Hec. 538, Tro. 739, Or. 119, 138.462 Note also Ar. fr. 21 PCG = fr. tr. adesp. 70a (a tragic quotation in disguise?). The word is applied to supernatural beings in Pers. 685, A. Suppl. 210, Eum. 236, Hec. 538 and Or. 119.
647–8. In the mouth of Athena pretending to be Aphrodite the reference to the Judgement of Paris is deeply ironical. She has indeed not ‘forgotten the ‘honour’ Paris did her when he rejected her in favour of’ the goddess of love (Liapis on 647–8).
δ᾽᾽: 132n.
οὐδ᾽ ἀμνημονῶ: so at the same verse-position Eum. 24. Similarly IT 361 … ἀμνημονῶ.
ἐπαινῶ … σέθεν: That as an expression of thanks does not in itself convey the idea of polite refusal (despite e.g. LSJ s.v. III) has been shown by Quincey (JHS 86 [1966], 133–58 [152–6]), who gives abundant evidence for its use in acceptance contexts. The construction with the nominative participle has a parallel in Cyc. 549 χάριν δὲ τίνα
σ᾽ ἐπαινέσω;
649-[52]. In fact Rhesus went to Troy after repeated embassies and presents sent by Hector (399–403n.). Athena’s lie is to win Paris’ confidence and remind the audience of the deed she is covering up.
649–50. ‘And now that the Trojan army is favoured by fortune, I have come bringing you a great ally …’
καὶ νῦν ἐπ᾽ εὐτυχοῦντι Τρωϊκῷ στρατῷ / ἥκω: The structure and rhythm of 649 bear some resemblance to Ai. 3 καὶ νῦν ναυτικαῖς ὁρῶ.
ἐπ᾽ εὐτυχοῦντι … στρατῷ (52–84, 665–7, 882–4nn.) is best taken with Paley and others as a definition of the attendant circumstances (LSJ s.v. B I 1 i, KG I 501–2, SD 468), since
with dative, dependent on
πορεύουσ᾽, in a friendly sense would be hard to parallel (in S. El. 84–5 Tournier’s ταῦτα γὰρ ϕέρειν / νίκην τέ
for the MSS’ ϕέρει /
τ᾽
… has won general approval). The basic sense of the preposition (‘upon’) is also strongly felt here. Hence Porter’s ‘And now to crown the success of the Trojan host, I am come …’
651. τῆς ὑμνοποιοῦ παῖδα Θρῄκιον θεᾶς: similarly 964 τῆς καρποποιοῦ παῖδα Δήμητρος θεᾶς, with the perhaps newly-coined adjective καρποποιός (963–5a n.). Here is previously found only in E. fr. 556.1 (Oedipus) and, as a noun, E. Suppl. 180 (with Collard on 180–1a). Our poet also has
in 550 and
in 980 (n.).
[652]. The verse is essentially the same as 279 and was therefore deleted by Lachmann (De mensura, 43–4). In itself there is nothing wrong with adding Rhesus’ paternal descent to his maternal one (cf. 348–54, 386–7, 393–4 and, for the structure, Xen. Cyr. 1.2.1 Πατρὸς μὲν δὴ ὁ Κῦρος γενέσθαι
… μητρὸς δὲ
γενέσθαι), and in an author so prone to reuse his own words mere duplication may not seem a decisive argument. Yet of the three repetitions comparable in length, 150 ~ 155 and 543–5 ~ 562–4 serve a particular purpose (149–50, 154–5, 543–5nn.), whereas 37b–8a (n.) has perhaps rightly been athetised by Dobree. Here
looks like a gloss on
… θεᾶς, after which a scribe would have filled the line with a familiar phrase. But as in the case of 37b–8a absolute certainty cannot be attained.
653–4a. ἀεί ποτ᾽ … / κἀμοί: For ἀεί see 609b–10n. This may be another ironic echo of Odysseus’ reply to Athena in those lines (cf. 637b–9n.)
654b–5. ‘… and the greatest treasure in life I claim to have secured for my city by deciding in your favour’.
κειμήλιον: originally ‘stored-up object of value’. Apart from Phaeth. 56 = E. fr. 773.12 (with Diggle), tragic usage of the word is always metaphorical (S. El. 437–8, Hcld. 591–2, E. fr. 362.4).
κρίνας σέ: of the Judgement of Paris also Tro. 927–8 δ᾽
Ἀσιάδ᾽ Εὐρώπης θ᾽ ὅρους / τυραννίδ᾽ ἕξειν, εἴ σϕε κρίνειεν Πάρις. For κρίνω, ‘decide in favour of, prefer’, see LSJ s.v. II 7 with Suppl. (1996) and Wilkins on Hcld. 197.
τῇδε προσθέσθαι πόλει: perhaps taken from Hcld. 156–7
(with Wilkins on 157). Add Hdt. 1.53.1 to his parallels for προστίθεμαι, ‘acquire as a friend / ally’.
The Homeric Aphrodite is no great help to the Trojans. She rescues Paris in Il. 3.373–82 (cf. 642–74n.), but her other two interventions end in disgrace (Il. 5.311–430, 21.415–33).
656–60. Odysseus in the Ajax prologue is in a similar situation as to assessing Ajax’s guilt (Ai. 23 γὰρ
τρανές, ἀλλ᾽ ἀλώμεθα), but his eyewitness at least knows what he has seen: Ai. 29–31 καί μοί τις
μόνον /
σὺν
/ ϕράζει τε
(of which the nominative participle and first main verb recur in Rh. 659). The unreliability of Paris’ information (cf. 628–9) makes him a particularly easy victim of Athena’s persuasion (Paley on 656).
656–8a. ἀκούσας οὐ τορῶς: 77n. Of uninformed talk (among sailors) also Ag. 632 οὐκ οἶδεν οὐδεὶς ὥστ᾽ ἀπαγγεῖλαι (i.e. whether Menelaus is dead or alive).
δέ τις / ϕύλαξιν ἐμπέπτωκεν: ‘a rumour has arisen among the watchmen’. Cf. Ar. Lys. 858–9 κἂν
γ᾽
/ λόγος τις, Pl. Rep. 354b6–7, Lg. 799d4–5 ἀτόπου γὰρ τὰ νῦν
νόμων, Thphr. Char. 2.2 (LSJ s.v.
3 b).
κατάσκοποι / … Ἀχαιῶν: 125–6a n.
658b–9. ‘And one man says so having laid no eye on them, while another, who has seen them come, cannot give particulars.’
ἰδών (Chr. Pat. 1876, Lenting, Animadversiones, 75) gives the appropriate antithesis to (cf. Nauck, Euripideische Studien II, 177). Corruption into εἰδώς (Ω) was easy in this context and is paralleled at Ar. Ran. 714
δὲ τάδ᾽ (Bentley:
codd.) and E. Suppl. 1044 ϕράζετ᾽ εἰ κατείδετε (Elmsley: κατοίδατε L). Conversely Rh. 65 καὶ τὸ θεῖον
(
V).
οὐκ ἔχει ϕράσαι: sc. αὐτούς (KG II 562). The construction with a personal object is the same as in Od. 14.2–3 οἱ
/
δῖον
(‘point out, show the way to’). This Homeric sense of ϕράζω recurs in 853–4, while the verse-end itself is all but repeated in 801 (800–2a n.).
660. εὐνὰς ἤλυθον πρὸς Ἕκτορος: The word-order ‘noun, verbal part, preposition, genitive attribute’ corresponds to Sept. 185
πρὸς πολισσούχων θεῶν. At A. Suppl. 638 τὸν ἀρότοις
FJW (on 637–8) perhaps rightly prefer ἐν
(Kraus), meaning that Ares reaps harvests of men ‘in fields ploughed by others’ (Sommerstein, Aeschylus I, 373 n. 131). Fraenkel on Ag. 964 discusses various other types of divided prepositional phrase.
For Hector’s εὐναί see 1n. and for 49–51n.
661. μηδὲν ϕοβηθῇς: Cf. PV 128 (opening the parodos), Ar. Av. 654 and, with an accusative object, Andr. 993–4 τὸν δ᾽ / μηδὲν
παῖδ᾽. Later Ezek. Exag. 127.
οὐδὲν ἐν στρατῷ νέον: ‘new’ in the sense of ‘untoward’ (4, 589–90nn.). This is Athena’s second lie after 649-[52] (n.), which instantly fulfils its purpose of lulling Paris into a false sense of security.
662. ϕροῦδος (again 743, 814 and 865) is extremely frequent in Euripides. Note also Ar. Ach. 470 (‘Euripides’ speaking) and Ran. 1343 in the parody of Euripidean song (Introduction, 29–30 with n. 36; cf. 41–2, 750–1a nn.).
κοιμήσων στρατόν: Only κοιμήσων (Δ) suits the context (519–20, 614, 762). Λ’s κοσμήσων replicates the prevalent error at 138 (138–9n.).
663–4. σύ τοί με πείθεις: 65–6n. τοι intensifies σύ (cf. 568b–9n.) and thus, by expressing all Paris’ confidence in ‘Aphrodite’, adds a fine touch of tragic irony.
ϕυλάξων: ‘to keep my station’. Cf. Xen. Cyr. 5.3.43
τάξις
(where, however, τάξις could also mean ‘marching order’) and D. H. 11.24.3 κατηγορηθέντες … τάξιν μὴ ϕυλάττειν.
ἐλεύθερος ϕόβου: similarly Hec. 869 ἐγώ σε
and Hcld. 867–8 δεινοῦ
/
… ἦμαρ.
665–7. For these ‘unsound words’ (639) to the retreating Paris Feickert (on 665) compares Electra’s more open ‘farewell’ to Clytaemestra in E. El. 1139–46, which also begins with an ominous χώρει.
εὐτυχοῦντας συμμάχους ἐμούς: On the deceptive use of σύμμαχος see 637b–9n. There may be a further point in that and
have so far exclusively been applied to the Trojans or their affairs (cf. 52–84n. and 270, 390, 583, 649).
τὴν ἐμὴν προθυμίαν: Of a god’s set purpose or will cf. Hipp. 1329–30, 1417, Andr. 1252, Ion 1385 and elsewhere Gorg. Hel. 6. Both προθυμία and (63) are Euripidean favourites (Liapis on 63–4, 667).
668–74. After Paris’ departure Athena addresses the returning Greeks. In Il. 10.509–11 it is Diomedes, the leader of the expedition, whom she warns to make a quick escape to the ships before ‘another god’ wakes up the Trojans. The choice of Odysseus here follows from his dominance in the play and, as regards the present scene, our poet’s dependence on the Ajax prologue.
668–9. ὑμᾶς δ᾽ ἀυτῶ: Wecklein wished to delete δ᾽, but the change of addressees should be marked, as in e.g. Hipp. 1431, IT 1446 and, more explicitly, E. Suppl. 1213, Hel. 1662.
ἀυτέω rarely takes an infinitive. The only classical parallel is E. El. 723–6 δ᾽ / εἰς
ἀυτεῖ / τὰν κερόεσσαν ἔχειν /
κατὰ
ποίμναν.
τοὺς ἄγαν ἐρρωμένους could be a reminiscence of Il. 10.503–6, where Diomedes is not yet prepared to content himself with Rhesus’ horses and the death of thirteen Thracians, including the king (cf. 670– 1). But ἄγαν suggests that, contrary to their earlier caution or even timidity, the Achaeans are now being carried away by blood lust (Fenik, Iliad X, 21–2 n. 4, who after Valckenaer, Diatribe, 111 compares Verg. Aen. 9.354 sensit enim nimia caede atque cupidine ferri). On the relationship between the Nisus-Euryalus episode (Verg. Aen. 9.176–458) and our play see Introduction, 45.
Adjectival ἐρρωμένος, like its verb, is essentially a prose word (in poetry only PV 65, 76 and a few times in comedy). For the meaning ‘eager, enthusiastic’ cf. e.g. Thuc. 2.8.1 ἐς τὸν
οὐκ ἀπεικότως, 2.8.4, Lys. 13.31, Cratin. fr. 452 PCG = Phryn. PS p. 10.14–17 de Borries and, for the opposite, Thuc. 3.15.2 οἱ δὲ
… ἐν
ἦσαν καὶ
τοῦ στρατεύειν
Λαερτίου παῖ: Note Athena at Ai. 1 Λαρτίου, although this formula is not rare (as an address Phil. 87, Hec. 402, Ai. 380
, otherwise Ai. 101, Phil. 1286, 1357). For the singular vocative directed at a representative of two or more persons see Diggle, Euripidea, 506.
θηκτὰ κοιμίσαι ξίϕη: No exact parallel exists, but and (κατα)κοιμίζω are used in various metaphorical ways: e.g. Od. 12.169 κοίμησε δὲ
(cf. Eum. 832, Ai. 674–5), Ag. 1247
… στόμα, Nicopho fr. 15 PCG, Phryn. Com. fr. 25 PCG ἔπειτ᾽ ἐπειδὰν τὸν λύχνον κατακοιμίσῃ, Phoen. 183–4 σύ … / μεγαλαγορίαν
κοιμίζεις (LSJ s.vv. κοιμάω I 2, κοιμίζω 1, κατακοιμίζω I).
670–1a. κεῖται … ἡμῖν: ‘… lies dead at our hands’ (LSJ s.v. I 4 a). With
(dative of agent) Athena associates herself with the Achaeans, as she had already done in 627 (καθ᾽ ἡμᾶς) and as the Muse will complain in 938–40 (n.), 944–5 and 978. Valckenaer’s ὑμῖν here (Diatribe, 111 n. 8) would obliterate this nuance and spoil the subtle contrast with 671–2
… / χωροῦσ᾽
ὑμᾶς: Odysseus and Diomedes are in danger of being caught, not so the goddess (Fenik, Iliad X, 25 with n. 1).
ἵπποι τ᾽ ἔχονται: The horses are not mentioned again until 797–8. It is highly improbable that they were shown on stage, as Battezzato (CQ n.s. 50 [2000], 371 with n. 30), Feickert (on 668–74, 671, 672, 674) and others maintain. Their splendid sight, ‘conspicuous in the night’ (617), would have elicited a comment from the chorus and proved a serious obstacle to Odysseus’ deception. The visual inconsequence may well have passed unnoticed in the vigorous action of the following scene.
672b–3a. ἀλλ᾽ ὅσον τάχιστα χρή / ϕεύγειν πρὸς ὁλκοὺς ναυστάθμων adapts Athena’s order at Il. 10.509–10 νόστου δὴ μνῆσαι, υἱέ, /
γλαϕυράς,
καὶ
(cf. 668–74n.).
: 70–1n.
πρὸς ὁλκοὺς ναυστάθμων: an elaborate periphrasis for the naval camp: ΣV Rh. 673 (II 341.26 Schwartz = 108 Merro) πρὸς τὰ ναύσταθμα. For the (‘slipways’) see 145b–6n. and for
135b–6n.
673b–4. τί μέλλετε / … σῶσαι βίον; In the sense ‘hesitate, delay’ normally governs a present infinitive (LSJ s.v. III). At Phoen. 299–300
/ θιγεῖν τ᾽
τέκνου; and Thuc. 1.124.1
Ποτειδεάταις
… καὶ τῶν
μετελθεῖν
ἐλευθερίαν. the aorist stands only second in a pair, but there seems to be no objection in principle to it. Maybe ὀκνέω, which easily takes both constructions, exerted some influence.
᾽πιόντος πολεμίων: The metaphor of a ‘thunderbolt’ (cf. ΣV Rh. 674 [II 341.27–8 Schwartz = 108 Merro]) or ‘whirlwind’ seems rather strong here. Elsewhere
is so applied to disasters of universal impact (Pers. 715
… σκηπτὸς, Andr. 1046
Δαναΐδαις
[‘the storm-cloud of war’], Dem.18.194 ὁ
[Philip’s invasion of Greece]), or to single persons in comic exaggeration (Antiph. fr. 193.11 PCG, Men. Sam. 556).
Euripides had a penchant for ἐπιών, but he mostly used it attributively and in the sense ‘succeeding, future’ (cf. 330–1n.). Literally only Ion 323 … τ᾽ ἀεὶ ξένος, half so Or. 630 …
λόγος (see Willink on 630–1) and with an abstract object probably Tro. 119 ἐπιοῦσ᾽ αἰεὶ δακρύων ἐλέγους (ἐπιοῦσ᾽ Musgrave:
τοὺς VPQΣ).
675–91. The chorus return (via the right eisodos) in a menacing search for potential intruders and soon intercept Odysseus and Diomedes, who are on their way back from the Thracian camp (675–82). After a brief skirmish Odysseus effects their escape by giving the Trojan watchword and sending the guards on a wrong track (683–91).
Not surprisingly perhaps, this lively dramatisation of Il. 10.523–4 δὲ κλαγγή τε καὶ ἄσπετος ὦρτο κυδοιμός / θυνόντων ἄμυδις (Ritchie 72), which gives wily Odysseus a brief aristeia in a positive counterpart to Dolon’s off-stage interception and death (572–3, 591–3nn.), has caused the greatest variety of critical opinion. While the presence of a silent Diomedes can hardly be denied in view of 681 + 678–9
ἔχω, τούσδ᾽ ἔμαρψα / κλῶπας οἵτινες …,463 the order of lines, the speaker distribution and text, especially in the partly corrupt 685–6 (n.), must to some degree remain conjectural. The present reading assumes, on the basis of 687 (n.), a division into two semi-choruses, of
which the more lenient is already inclined to believe Odysseus’ first assurance in 685 (n.) and, by accepting his reply to their further question in 686 (n.), unintentionally assists his stratagem. Regarding the lyric astrophon, one may also follow Bothe (5 [1803], 264–5) in recognising different voices at least in 675a–b, 676 and 677–82 or even, with Murray, Liapis (on 675–91 [p. 254]) and others, give the verses to individual singers. Both ways of staging would heighten the realism of the performance (particularly if it was done
),464 but the final proof from language is lacking.
With its hasty movement and disjointed language the chorus’ return mirrors their opening anapaests and first strophe of the parodos proper. Other hunting- or search-scenes, cast in the form of an (initially) astrophic epiparodos, appear in Eumenides (254–75) and Ajax (866–78), but as a whole our passage is unlike anything else in extant Greek tragedy. In fact the combination of violent physical contact and trochaic dialogue between chorus and actors most closely resembles the battle-scenes of Old Comedy, above all Ar. Ach. 280–327 (+ 204–40),465 with which there are even verbal parallels (675b, 680, 685nn.).466 The song can further be compared to S. fr. 314.64–78, 100–123, 176–202 (Ichneutae) and Cyc. 656–62 – the latter again preceding Odysseus’ escape (689–91, 689nn.). Cf. Rau, Paratragodia, 26–7.
675–82. Dochmio-iambic, interspersed with ‘cretics’ and trochaics. This suits the chorus’ agitation (cf. e.g. Eum. 254–75, Ai. 866–78, 879–90 [~ 925–36]) and runs smoothly into the trochaic tetrameters catalectic of 683–91 (680–1n.).
675 The exclamation could also be iambic (OC 1478, Hcld. 73, HF 815) or cretic (PV 687, opening a dochmiac Cho. 870),467 but apart from Hcld. 73 and HF 815, double ἔα in Euripides always stands extra metrum, and the same applies to Rhesus (cf. 729, 885). See Page on Med. 1004.
675b The analysis is due to L. P. E. Parker, CQ n.s. 18 (1968), 266–7 with 267 n. 3. It is preferable to that of Diggle, implied in his reconstruction of the line as θένε θένε <θένε> (675b n.), and Liapis (on 675–91 ‘Metre’ [p. 255]) as a trochaic dimeter, which would entail two divided resolutions, as well as the very rare phenomenon of a full trochee with short anceps at verse-end merging into iambic rhythm (L. P. E. Parker, in Owls to Athens, 332–7). Pace (Canti, 47–8) combines … θένε θένε.
ἁνήρ; to a doubtful form of dochmiac (cf. N. C. Conomis, Hermes 92 [1964], 27–8)468 with an equally dubious split resolution before the second long anceps.
676–7 (for the text see 676n.) forms a self-contained bacchiac question, as in e.g. Ai. 873
οὖν δή; 875 ἔχεις οὖν; 897 τί δ᾽ ἔστιν; OC 512 ~ 524 (each set off by change of speaker), and should therefore be detached from 677.
680–1 On the metrical implications of Diggle’s transposition see 680–1n. The sequence cr (tr‸) tr is paralleled in Eum. 324 ~ 337, Cyc. 608, Ba. 578, 584 and IA 258 ~ 270 (cf. Diggle, Euripidea, 424 n. 19, Liapis on 675–91 ‘Metre’ [pp. 255–6]).469
675b. βάλε βάλε βάλε·· θένε θένε <θένε>: Cf. Eum. 130 λαβέ. λαβέ. λαβέ. λαβέ. ϕράζου (the Erinyes dreaming of being hounds on the trail), Ar. Ach. 280–3 οὗτος αὐτός ἐστιν, οὗτος· / βάλλε, βάλλε, βάλλε, βάλλε, / παῖε, τὸν μιαρόν. / οὐ βαλεῖς;
βαλεῖς; and, perhaps under Aristophanic influence, Xen. An. 5.7.21 (~ 5.7.28)
,
ἔχοντας ἐν ταῖς χερσί, τοὺς δὲ ἀναιρουμένους. Such lines of imperatives generally indicate urgency (Arnott on Alexis fr. 207.1) and here even amount to a war-cry (Dover on Ar. Nub. 1508; cf. West, IEPM 478). Like the Acharnians, who are hurling stones, the sentries are prepared to hit (βάλε) and strike (θένε) anyone with their spears.
A similar confusion in the MSS as to the number and ‘tense’ of the imperatives occurs at Ar. Ach. 281. Diggle’s triple θένε balances triple (Tr1), but is not inevitable, if we reject his analysis of the verse as trochaic (675–91 ‘Metre’ 675b n.).
676. τίς ; The article (Murray) relates the question to the implied object of the preceding verbs and removes an unparalleled dochmiac with strong rhetorical pause in the second resolved long: … θένε θένε. τίς ἀνήρ; (cf. L. P. E. Parker, CQ n.s. 18 [1968], 267 with n. 3). Musgrave’s τίς <ὅδ᾽>
; (on 678) would give another cretic, but the deictic seems too specific in view of the ensuing τοῦτον αὐδῶ.
677. λεῦσσε (Diggle) or (Hartung, 17 [1852], 81 n. 9) is expected after the preceding singulars, as in OC 118–22 ὅρα· … [λεύσσατ᾽ αὐτὸν,] (del. Dawe) προσδέρκου, προσϕθέγγου, /
πανταχᾷ, Ar. Thesm. 663–6 εἷα νῦν ἴχνευε καὶ μά- / τευε τάχυ πάντ᾽, … / δὲ
ὄμμα, / καὶ … / πάντ᾽
καλῶς, probably Eum. 254/5 ὅρα ὅρα
αὖ· λεῦσσε τό<πο>ν
(rest. West [Studies, 276–7]) and numerous other strings of choral self-exhortation (Kaimio, Chorus, 121–37; cf. 1n.). Cases like Od. 3.332
ἄγε
γλώσσας, Ar. Ach. 366 ἰδοὺ
or Ran. 1378
δή, παρίστασθον, where the first imperative is fossilised (KG I 84–5, SD 245, 583–4, 609–10), do not support the transmitted λεύσ(σ)ετε.
τοῦτον αὐδῶ: ‘This man I mean’. Cf. Hipp. 352 αὐδᾷς; Alc. 106
, Ion 552 ἐθιάσευσ᾽, ἢ πῶς τάδ᾽ αὐδᾷς; and Phil. 852 οἶσθα γὰρ ὃν αὐδῶμαι.
680–1. By transposing these lines after 677, Diggle much improved the sequence of 675–82, without damaging our impression of headless confusion. For not only does 680 (n.) δεῦρο
now adjoin the opening imperatives, but we also have 678–9 (n.)
οἵτινες κατ᾽
τόνδε κινοῦσι στρατόν follow more naturally on the plural pronouns in 681 τούσδ᾽ ἔχω,
(In dramaturgical terms the sentries are drawing nearer before they realise that a second intruder is lurking in the dark). Moreover, while there can be no metrical objection to the transmitted 681–2 … τούσδ᾽ ἔμαρψα. /
ὁ λόχος … (
|
- with strong rhetorical pause after the full trochee, for which cf. Ba. 589–90, OC 1708–9 and L. P. E. Parker, in Owls to Athens, 332–7), the trochaic tetrameter catalectic of 678–9 better continues 681b and, via 682, leads up to the stichic use of the verse.
680. δεῦρο δεῦρο πᾶς: Cf. Ar. Ach. 239–40 ἀλλὰ δεῦρο πᾶς / ἐκποδών, with the same quasi-verbal use of (Wackernagel, / Vorlesungen über Syntax I, 71 = Lectures on Syntax, 99, Olson on Ar. Ach. 239–40), and Ar. Pax 301
εὐθὺ τῆς
, Av. 1186 χώρει δεῦρο πᾶς ὑπηρέτης. The connection of πᾶς (τις) with a second person singular imperative is colloquial (KG I 85–6, Collard, ‘Supplement’, 370) and here probably reproduces genuine soldiers’ diction. Cf. 685
ἴθι παῖε
, 687 (n.), 688, 690, 730.
678–9. κλῶπας: 644–5n. Diggle’s accusative further smoothes the syntax, but even with his verse order (680–1n.) one may look for another one-line exclamation and so keep with a full stop after ἔμαρψα: ‘Thieves – whoever they are who are disturbing our army in the darkness! ’
κατ᾽ ὄρϕνην: 41–2n.
τόνδε κινοῦσι : 17–18n.
682. τίς ὁ λόχος; πόθεν ἔβας; ποδαπὸς εἶ; a military version of the Homeric τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες; (e.g. Od. 1.170, 10.325, 14.187). Closer to the standard pattern are Rh. 702
;
;
; A. fr. 61 = Ar. Thesm. 136 (Lycurgus to the captive Bacchus)
ὁ γύννις; τίς
; τίς
; Ion 258–9 (quoted in 702n.) and Ar. fr. 307 PCG (Pax II)
τὸ
; τί τὸ γένος; τίς
; The brisk tone of the sentries is reinforced by the diaereses after each cretic, a rhythm tragedy tends to avoid (Dale, LM2 101).
It is possible that we have here the ultimate source of Verg. Aen. 9.376–7 state viri. quae causa viae? quive estis in armis? / quove tenetis iter? (cf. Introduction, 45).
λόχος: 26n. λόγος (Λ) shows hardly more than confusion of and γ (C. W. Willink, CQ n.s. 39 [1989] 52 n. 32 = Collected Papers, 143 n. 32, Diggle, Euripidea, 371–2). Likewise A. Suppl. 676/7 γυναι- /
(Sophianus:
M) and, conversely, Rh. 149 (149–50n.).
683–91. Although the whole scene seems more indebted to comedy and satyr-play (675–91n.), there is nothing untragic in having trochaic tetrameters catalectic indicate excitement and rapid motion. Euripides in his later plays particularly employed the ‘running verse’ (Arist. Rhet. 1409a1, Ar. Ach. 204a [I 1b.35–6 Wilson], Heph. 78.4–6 Consbruch) for hurried actors’ entries: Ion 1250–60 (an agitated dialogue between Creusa and the chorus), Or. 729, 1506, 1549–53, IA 1338 (cf. OC 887–90). Frequent speaker changes, which the long verse accommodates more easily than the iambic trimeter, increase the vigour and harshness of the conversation. For further detail on the history and character of the tragic tetrameter see W. Krieg, Philologus 91 (1936), 42–51, M. Imhof, MH 13 (1956), 125–43, Th. Drew-Bear, AJPh 89 (1968), 385–405 and Willink on Or. 729–806.
683. ‘Od. You do not need to know that. Cho.1 Yes, I do. For otherwise you will die today as a malefactor.’
The MSS leave the whole verse to Odysseus, in which case θανῇ γὰρ
κακῶς is at best an empty taunt. Matthiae (VIII [1824], 52) thus assigned the latter half to a semi-chorus, with γάρ implying the new speaker’s dissent (GP 74–5). Cf. Ar. Nub. 1440
δὲ
ἔτι γνώμην. – ἀπὸ γὰρ ὀλοῦμαι (‘Now consider yet another point. – No, for that will be the end of me.’).
εἰδέναι: The synizesis has no exact parallel, unless Kaibel’s
or
is correct at Epich. fr. 178 PCG
τε
πᾶσι καὶ
μίαν. Junctures like
(e.g. Ant. 33, Tr. 321, Hipp. 1335, Ion 313) or
εἰδότος (IT 1048), which involve prepositives, are not really equivalent, and other such irregular synizeses also appear to be much rarer in tragedy (only E. Suppl. 638–9
δέ
/
[Herwerden:
Luv: ᾽πο- Tr1]) than in Homer, Aeolic lyric and comedy (KB I 228–9, Schwyzer 400–1, West, GM 13–14). Yet the fact that
is a monosyllable (cf. Barrett, Collected Papers, 349–50 n. 85) may alleviate the peculiarity so that Heath’s εἰδέναι σ᾽ οὐ
(Notae sive lectiones, 97) need not perhaps be entertained.
684. Diggle’s tentative transposition of the question before 683 should be resisted, for (a) χρὴ εἰδέναι is a much more suitable reply to 682 and (b) the challenge can only follow Odysseus’ refusal to identify himself.
ξύνθημα: 521–2n.
685–6. These verses are the touchstone for the interpretation of the entire scene. The first one fits well in the context, but is metrically corrupt (685n.), while the second makes no sense as transmitted (686n.). Among the many explanations and conjectures that have been proposed, Diggle suggested deleting the lines on the ground that they would not be missed (‘si abessent, non desiderarentur’). Yet it is hard to see why 686 with its puzzling mention of Rhesus should have been interpolated (cf. L. Battezzato, Lexis 22 [2004], 284 n. 23), and the action would hardly become livelier or more ‘physical’ with the addition of 685.470 It seems preferable, therefore, to accept both as part of the original text. The solution adopted here requires only minimal change in 686. Nothing new is ventured on 685.
685. ‘Od. †Stop! Have no fear. Cho.1 Come near, strike, everyone!†’
While sense, grammar and speaker distribution are unexceptionable, this line cannot be left to stand as any form of syncopated trochaics (Ritchie 73, 294, Zanetto, ed. Rhesus, 69), let alone dochmiacs (Feickert on 685). Attempts to restore a regular tetrameter go back as far as Triclinius’ inept πέλας (Tr1) and
πᾶς
ἄν (Tr3), but with little beyond exempli gratia solutions for the second verse-half (cf. Wecklein, Appendix, 53, to which add Kovacs’ (Οδ.) ἵστ<ασ᾽> ὦ θάρσει πελάζων. (Χο.) παῖε <παῖε> [~ O, Tr3]
<ἀνήρ>), agnostic obeli are in place.
θάρσει: Portus (Breves notae, 70): ἴστω Ω. The contracted imperative of middle ἵσταμαι (A. fr. 273a.2, Ai. 775, Phil. 893, Ar. Eccl. 737, Cratin. fr. 250.1 PCG) is at least as old as
Rh. 685 (109 a2 Merro) ἵστω.
and must also be what lies behind the glosses
in V and Q (II 342.11 Schwartz = 109 a1 Merro). Yet with θάρσει (cf. 16, 646) it would be difficult to fit into the metre, even if there were some significance in the fact that both forms appear close to each other at Phil. 893–4 (Νε.) ἔσται τάδ᾽· ἀλλ᾽ ἵστω τε καὐτὸς ἀντέχου. / (Φι.)
· τό τοι
μ᾽ ἔθος.
πέλας ἴθι παῖε : 680, 687nn. Whatever the exact words, we see here yet another echo of comic ‘battle cries’ in general (e.g. Ar. Eq. 247 παῖε
τὸν πανοῦργον, 251–2, Nub. 1508, Vesp. 456 + 458) and Ar. Ach. 282 παῖε,
τὸν μιαρόν (codd.:
πᾶς Bergk) in particular. Cf. 675–91, 675b, 680, 730nn.
686. ‘Cho.2 Did you kill †Rhesus†? Od. No, but the one who meant to kill you.’
The present speaker attribution (= O) suggests itself if one essentially accepts and reads the text as it stands (685–6n.) and takes seriously the division into semi-choruses indicated by 687 (n.). Short of the latter, most
modern editors have followed Murray in dividing the line between Odysseus( σὺ
κατέκτας;) and the chorus (
τὸν κτενοῦντα σέ … [sc.
]).471 This, however, implies an unnatural aposiopesis and raises the question – not answered by temporary absent-mindedness (Porter, xiv and on 686) or Jouan’s ‘Initiative hardie (ou désespérée) … ’ (41 n. 208) – why Odysseus should mention the deed at all.472 Still more dubiously, Ritchie (73–4) and Zanetto (ed. Rhesus ; cf. Ciclope, Reso, 155 n. 87) write
κατέκτας;
τὸν κτενοῦντά σε, assuming that, against our poet’s habit of spelling out costume divergences from the epic (208–11a, 591–3nn.), Odysseus had probably taken and donned Rhesus’ armour to be mistaken for him by the less aggressive part of the chorus.473
κατέκτας; Although ‘golden’ Rhesus, who has arrived with such pomp and circumstance (284–316, 340, 382–4), may be thought the obvious victim for nocturnal marauders, the proper name here seems unduly specific and, for the full dramatic effect of the Charioteer’s ‘message’, not even desired as a witty anticipation. Unless, therefore, the question constitutes a rather more consequential poetic inconsistency than usual (185, 355–6nn.),474 it is likely to harbour corruption, and the easiest solution would be that, perhaps aided by the accusative singular in the answer, an explanatory gloss Ῥῆσον (cf. Diggle, Euripidea, 459 n. 79) has displaced a broader term. West’s
gains support from 687 …
ἄνδρα μὴ θένῃς, 838 …
and 860 …
ϕίλους.
<μὴ> ἀλλά: ‘No (don’t say that), but (rather) …’ Dindorf’s supplement (PSG5, 9) restores the colloquial expression, which apart from Cho. 918, Pl. Men. 75b1 and Pl. (?) Alc. I 114e1, is elsewhere confined to
Aristophanes: Ach. 458, Ran. 103, 611, 745, 751 and, also simply contradictory, Av. 109–10 ἠλιαστά; –
τρόπου, / ἀπηλιαστά, Thesm. 646 οὐκ ἐγγεταυθί. – <μ>ἀλλὰ
ἥκει
(GP 4–5, Collard, ‘Supplement’, 367).
687–8. The only other trochaic tetrameters catalectic with more than one antilabe in tragedy come from the late fifth-century Philoctetes (1407)475 and Orestes (1525).
687. ἴσχε πᾶς τις: The number of choral (τις) imperatives in this and the following scene (680n.), as well as other such (pseudo-) military orders in e.g. Ag. 1651 (Aegisthus to his attendants) εἶα δή,
τις εὐτρεπιζέτω, Ar. Av. 1190/1–2 (Χο.) …
/ ἀέρα
and 1196 ἄθρει δὲ
σκοπῶν, support the ascription to a semi-chorus (Χο. O) rather than Odysseus, who has not yet established his ‘authority’ over the men. The refusal
μὲν οὖν (below) then indicates, more poignantly, a brief disagreement between the sentries as to their captive’s trustworthiness (675–91n.).