Cambridge Greek and Latin classics

General Editors
P. E. Easterling
Regius Professor Emeritus of Greek, University of Cambridge
Philip Hardie
Senior Research Fellow, Trinity College, Cambridge
Richard Hunter
Regius Professor of Greek, University of Cambridge
E. J. Kenney
Kennedy Professor Emeritus of Latin, University of Cambridge
S. P. Oakley
Kennedy Professor of Latin, University of Cambridge
 Homer

Iliad

BOOK VI

Edited by

Barbara Graziosi
Professor of Classics, Durham University

Johannes Haubold
Leverhulme Senior Lecturer in Greek Literature, Durham University
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS
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© Barbara Graziosi and Johannes Haubold 2010
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First published 2010

Printed in the United Kingdom at the University Press, Cambridge
A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data
Homer.
[Iliad. Book 6]
Homer Iliad, book VI / [edited by] Barbara Graziosi, Johannes Haubold.
p. cm. – (Cambridge Greek and Latin classics)
Text in Greek with introduction and commentary in English.
Includes index.
ISBN 978-0-521-87884-5 (hardback)
1. Homer. Iliad. Book 6. I. Graziosi, Barbara. II. Haubold, Johannes. III.
Title.
IV. Series.
PA4020.P6 2010
883′.01 – dc22 2010030218
ISBN 978-0-521-87884-5 Hardback
ISBN 978-0-521-70372-7 Paperback
Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or
accuracy of URLs for external or third-party internet websites referred to in
this publication, and does not guarantee that any content on such websites
is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.
To our parents
 Contents
Acknowledgements
List of abbreviations

Introduction
1 The poet and the Muses
2 The composition of Homeric epic
2.1 The hexameter
2.2 Formulae and their meaning
2.3 Traditional narrative patterns
2.4 Language
2.5 Grammar
2.6 Vividness
3 Book 6 in the structure of the Iliad
3.1 The gods
3.2 Men and women
3.3 The city of Troy
4 Difficult encounters
4.1 Glaukos and Diomedes
4.2 Hector and Hecuba
4.3 Hector, Paris and Helen
4.4 Hector and Andromache
5 The encounter between Hector and Andromache through time
6 The text

ΙΛΙΑΔΟΣ Ζ

Commentary
Bibliography
Indices
 Acknowledgements

The first invitation to write this commentary came from Pat Easterling,
when we left Cambridge, after our doctoral and postdoctoral studies, and
moved to Durham to take up two lectureships. Since then, many colleagues,
friends and students have helped us try to make sense of Iliad 6. We cannot
mention them all by name, but we are very grateful for the help we received
with a task that seemed, at times, simply too hard. We have profited greatly
from the guidance of the series editors, Pat Easterling and Richard Hunter,
and from the detailed comments of Luigi Battezzato, Felix Budelmann,
Andrea Capra, Georg Danek and Maria Serena Mirto: we can only hope
that we have learnt enough from them. We would also like to thank our
copy-editor, Jan Chapman, and Michael Sharp, classics editor at Cambridge
University Press, for their work. We are grateful to the Department of
Classics and Ancient History, Durham University, to the Arts and
Humanities Research Council, and to the Loeb Foundation for granting and
funding crucial periods of leave, which we devoted to this commentary. We
have relied on excellent recent scholarship on Homeric epic and –
especially – the two editions of the Iliad by Helmut van Thiel and M. L.
West: our debt to them will be obvious to all readers. Magdalene
Stoevesandt's commentary on Iliad 6, part of the Gesamtkommentar edited
by J. Latacz and A. Bierl, came out shortly before we submitted ours to
Cambridge University Press: it is truly excellent, and we have tried to
include its insights in our discussion, but readers are very much advised to
consult it too. We wrote most of this commentary in the evenings, after our
children had gone to bed. While they slept upstairs, and we worked on the
harrowing narrative of Iliad 6, we felt – more than ever – grateful for peace.
 Abbreviations

Abbreviations mainly follow those used in the Oxford Classical Dictionary

with the following variations and additions:
LfgrE Lexikon des frühgriechischen Epos, ed. B. Snell,
U. Fleischer and H.-J. Mette et al., Göttingen
1955–

New Pauly Brill's New Pauly: encyclopaedia of the ancient

world, ed. H. Cancik and H. Schneider, Leiden
2007
 Introduction

1. The Poet and The Muses

In his Collection of useful knowledge Proclus observes that Homer said
nothing about his own origins and lineage, and that ‘because his poetry
gives no express indication on these questions, each writer has indulged his
inclinations with great freedom’.1 This is a perceptive comment: from
antiquity to the present there has been much debate about the origin, date
and authorship of Homeric epic – a debate fuelled, in part, by a lack of
reliable information. And yet the Iliad does say something important about
its poet, and in order to offer an introduction to Homeric poetry, it seems
reasonable to start with the image of the poet presented in the Iliad itself,
before broaching the many, and difficult, issues on which the poem offers
no explicit guidance.
The poem starts with an order: ‘Sing, goddess, the wrath of Achilles.’
Like all second-person addresses, this opening invocation establishes a
specific relationship between speaker and addressee. The poet asks the
goddess to sing and she evidently complies with his request: what follows,
after the proem, is indeed a song about the wrath of Achilles. Song, ἀοιδή,
is a word the poet uses for his own performance: the Muse sings, and the
poet sings too, about the same topic. After the proem their voices blend,
until the poet faces particularly difficult challenges. Before launching into
the massive Catalogue of Ships in book 2, for example, the poet suddenly
puts some distance between himself and the Muse, re-establishes his own
individual voice with the pronoun μοι, and asks, again, for divine support
(2.484–93):

ἔσπετε νῦν μοι, Μοῦσαι Ὀλύμπια δώματ᾽ ἔχουσαι –

ὑμεῖς γὰρ θεαί ἐστε πάρεστέ τε ἴστε τε πάντα,
ἡμεῖς δὲ κλέος οἶον ἀκούομεν οὐδέ τι ἴδμεν –
οἵ τινες ἡγεμόνες Δαναῶν καὶ κοίρανοι ἦσαν.
πληθὺν δ᾽ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδ᾽ ὀνομήνω,
οὐδ᾽ εἴ μοι δέκα μὲν γλῶσσαι, δέκα δὲ στόματ᾽ εἶεν,
ϕωνὴ δ᾽ ἄρρηκτος, χάλκεον δέ μοι ἦτορ ἐνείη,
εἰ μὴ Ὀλυμπιάδες Μοῦσαι, Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο
 θυγατέρες, μνησαίαθ᾽ ὅσοι ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθον.
ἀρχοὺς αὖ νηῶν ἐρέω νῆάς τε προπάσας.

Tell me now, you Muses who have your homes on Olympus –

for you are goddesses, are present and know all things,
but we hear only the kleos and know nothing –
who were the leaders and commanders of the Danaans.
I could not tell the masses nor name them,

not even if I had ten tongues and ten mouths,

a voice that cannot break, and a heart of bronze inside me,
unless the Muses of Olympus, daughters of aegis-bearing
Zeus, remembered all of those who came to Ilios;
but now I will tell the leaders of the ships, and all the ships there
were.

The Muses alone ‘are present and know all things’. Without their help, the
poet is in exactly the same position as his audience: ‘we have only heard the
κλέος, and know nothing’. κλέος is, literally, ‘what is heard’: the word
sometimes describes the subject matter of epic poetry (e.g. Od. 3.204, 8.73;
Hes. Theog. 99–101; Hom. Hymn 32.18–20; cf. Il. 9.189). The Muse
‘sings’, and the audience ‘hear’: in between, mediating in that complex
transaction, stands the poet. At 2.487 the poet asks the Muses to tell him
who the leaders of the Danaans were; he then declares he needs their help in
order to relate to the audience this information; and finally, at 493, he
launches into the grandest and most impressive catalogue in the whole
poem. The Muses and the poet sing in unison again for a while; but the
invocation establishes the terms of their relationship.2 The goddesses
guarantee the accuracy of the poet's performance (they ‘know everything’);
while the poet's performance, in turn, guarantees their presence (he states he
could not accomplish his poetic feat without their help). Through this
interaction, the ability to perform and the accuracy of the performance are
tightly woven together.
We may wonder about the meaning of πάρεστε, at 2.485: are the Muses
‘present’, in the sense that they are in the company of the poet and his
audience; or are they ‘present’ in Troy, at the time of the Trojan expedition?
This question admits of no straightforward answer. Clearly, the Muses and
the poet enjoy an intimate relationship, and the result of that relationship is
the performance itself, in front of an audience. But the ‘presence’ of the
Muses, in our passage, does not just concern their impact on the poet and
his audience: it is closely linked to the Muses’ own knowledge of the
Trojan expedition, and to their divine powers more generally: ὑμεῖς γὰρ θεαί
ἐστε πάρεστέ τε ἴστε τε πάντα, ‘you are goddesses, are present, and know
all things’. Hesiod tells us that the Muses please the mind of Zeus by
‘telling what is, what will be, and what was before’ (εἰρεῦσαι τά τ᾽ ἐόντα τά
τ᾽ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ᾽ ἐόντα; Theog. 38). Their knowledge has a temporal
dimension in the Iliad too: they bridge the gap between the great events at
Troy, and the world of Homeric audiences. The poet never describes his
audience in any detail, but he does imply that his performance takes place
long after the age of the heroes: he repeatedly compares the feats of his
heroic characters with the meagre achievements of ‘people as they are
nowadays’ (5.302–4, 12.378–83, 445–9 and 20.285–7).
The question about the ‘presence’ of the Muses also applies to the
position of the epic singer, as a passage in the Odyssey makes clear. When
Odysseus arrives at the land of the Phaeacians, he has lost everything: his
ship, his comrades, his possessions, even his clothes. The Phaeacians
cannot, therefore, establish his identity on the basis of any external
evidence; they can only rely on what he says himself – and that, of course,
is a risk because travellers often lie. Fortunately, there is one character, in
the land of the Phaeacians, who already knows about Odysseus and is thus
in a position to corroborate his story. In the course of celebrations in honour
of the shipwrecked stranger, the singer Demodocus entertains his audience
with three songs: the first is about a quarrel between Odysseus and Achilles
(8.73–82); the second is set on Olympus and describes an adulterous love
affair between Ares and Aphrodite (8.266–366); the third celebrates the fall
of Troy, and Odysseus’ stratagem of the Trojan horse (8.499–520).
Demodocus is blind: he does not know that Odysseus, a major character in
his own songs, is right there, among his audience. It is Odysseus who
recognises himself in Demodocus’ first song: he pulls up his cloak, covers
his head, and cries (8.83–92). Later, before Demodocus’ third song, he
praises the singer (8.487–91):

“Δημόδοκ᾽, ἔξοχα δή σε βροτῶν αἰνίζομ᾽ ἁπάντων·

ἢ σέ γε Μοῦσ᾽ ἐδίδαξε, Διὸς παῖς, ἢ σέ γ᾽ Ἀπόλλων.
 λίην γὰρ κατὰ κόσμον Ἀχαιῶν οἶτον ἀείδεις,
ὅσσ᾽ ἔρξαν τ᾽ ἔπαθόν τε καὶ ὅσσ᾽ ἐμόγησαν Ἀχαιοί,
ὥς τέ που ἢ αὐτὸς παρεὼν ἢ ἄλλου ἀκούσας.”

‘Demodocus, greatly I praise you, above all mortals;

either the Muse, daughter of Zeus, taught you, or Apollo.
You sing the fate of the Achaeans precisely, according to order;
what they did and endured and all they suffered,
as if you had been there yourself, or heard from someone who
had.’

There is a striking correspondence between the suffering of the Achaeans

and Odysseus’ own pain, as he listens and remembers his past. It is through
tears, and poetry, that Odysseus first begins to reveal himself to his hosts.
After paying his compliment to Demodocus, Odysseus asks the bard to sing
about the fall of Troy, and the stratagem of the Trojan horse. It is after that
performance that he finally reveals his identity: in books 9–12 Odysseus
takes over from Demodocus’ story and tells what happened after the fall of
Troy. The Phaeacians believe Odysseus because he sounds like a singer
(11.363–9):

“ὦ Ὀδυσεῦ, τὸ μὲν οὔ τί σ᾽ ἐΐσκομεν εἰσορόωντες

ἠπεροπῆά τ᾽ ἔμεν καὶ ἐπίκλοπον, οἶά τε πολλοὺς
βόσκει γαῖα μέλαινα πολυσπερέας ἀνθρώπους
ψεύδεά τ᾽ ἀρτύνοντας, ὅθεν κέ τις οὐδὲ ἴδοιτο·
σοὶ δ᾽ ἔπι μὲν μορϕὴ ἐπέων, ἔνι δὲ ϕρένες ἐσθλαί,
μῦθον δ᾽ ὡς ὅτ᾽ ἀοιδὸς ἐπισταμένως κατέλεξας,
πάντων Ἀργείων σέο δ᾽ αὐτοῦ κήδεα λυγρά.”

‘Odysseus, looking at you, we do not liken you

to a fraud or a cheat, the sort that the black earth
breeds in great numbers, widespread people,
who craft their lies – from what sources one does not see.
Your words have beauty, and there is sense in you,
and expertly, as a singer would do, you have set out the story,
of all the Argives’ terrible sorrows, and your own.’
Again, a complex exchange links truth to epic performance. Odysseus
compliments Demodocus because he describes the fall of Troy as accurately
as if he had been there; while the Phaeacians believe Odysseus’ own
account because he performs like a singer: his words have ‘beauty’, or
‘shape’ (μορϕή).
There are of course differences between Odysseus and Demodocus: the
most obvious is that the singer will never be an eyewitness: he is blind. It is
because of his relationship with the Muse, rather than any first-hand
experience, that he knows what happened at Troy. By himself, he is not
even able to recognise Odysseus, who is sitting right beside him. Blindness
separates Demodocus from his audience; but also marks a different, divine,
kind of vision (8.63–4):

τὸν περὶ Μοῦσ᾽ ἐϕίλησε, δίδου δ᾽ ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε·

ὀϕθαλμῶν μὲν ἄμερσε, δίδου δ᾽ ἡδεῖαν ἀοιδήν.

The Muse loved him greatly, and gave him both good and evil:
she took his eyesight but gave him sweet song.

Ancient readers thought that this description of Demodocus was

autobiographical: an image of Homer himself. Modern scholars have often
doubted the ancient report that Homer was blind and have sometimes noted
that his poetry is especially vivid and visual. But this is to miss the point of
the ancient legend: Homer's blindness, just like Demodocus’, was thought
to compensate for his poetry.3 And, as a poet, he could see what went on in
Troy: like Demodocus, and the Muses, he could overcome the barriers of
time and space and ‘be present’. At the same time, Homer's blindness
symbolised his distance and impartiality vis-à-vis his human audiences.
The poet of the Iliad does not address his audience directly, in order to
ask for attention, flatter or make demands. Never does he name specific
addressees or describe the context of his performance. By contrast, he
addresses not only the Muses, but also some characters in his own story.4
These direct apostrophes are so startling that some ancient and modern
readers have argued that they betray a special concern for the characters
addressed.5 But in one case, at least, there seems to be no reason to suppose
an enduring affection or interest on the part of the poet: the direct address
seems motivated by the immediate situation at hand, rather than by a long-
lasting commitment to certain characters. At 15.582–4 Antilochos has just
killed Melanippos and is about to take his spoils, when the poet suddenly
addresses the dead Melanippos in the vocative and points out that Hector
defended his corpse. The narrative gains in immediacy: what the poet
describes is not a routine battlefield occurrence, but something that would
have mattered greatly to Melanippos and now matters to the poet, and hence
to all those who listen to him. The poet thus engages his audience not by
addressing them directly, but by addressing his characters, and thus taking
part in the story he tells.
The poet's presence at Troy may help to explain another puzzling feature
of Homeric poetry. In an influential study of 1899–1901, Theodor Zielinski
argued that Homeric narrative always moves forward: as a result, the poet
represents simultaneous actions as sequential. Early responses to
‘Zielinski's law’ took it as evidence for the primitive state of the Homeric
mind, which was supposedly unable to grasp the complexities of time and
simultaneity.6 Such perceptions of Homeric poetry have by now been
dispelled: the poems do, in fact, represent simultaneous action by several
different means.7 For example, while Hector leaves the battlefield, Glaukos
and Diomedes meet and exchange gifts: in terms of narrative structure, the
encounter between the two warriors counterbalances Hector's mission in
Troy (see below, Introduction 4.1). What remains true, however, is that the
poet often fails to draw attention to simultaneity. As Scodel points out in
her judicious appraisal of Zielinski's law, ‘there is no single solution for all
passages where the Homeric narrator's treatment of time is difficult,
because time stands in a complex relationship with his other narrative
concerns’.8 One such concern does, however, help to explain Zielinski's
observation. The poet describes events as if he were there. Overt references
to simultaneity would dispel that sense of presence: in order to say that an
event was taking place while something else was happening elsewhere, the
poet would need to stand back from both events, however briefly. That, by
and large, he does not do: he often abandons one strand of the story and
picks up another without offering explicit guidance to the audience about
the transition. He simply, suddenly, looks elsewhere, or changes locale –
just like Zeus, who, at the beginning of book 13, momentarily stops looking
down at the war raging on the Trojan plain and turns his eyes to the land of
the Thracians.
The perspective of the poet is indeed that of the gods. He can offer a
god's-eye view of the whole battlefield at 1–4n. and then zoom in to show
how the tip of a spear penetrates through a forehead and ‘breaks into the
bone’: 10n. He can observe at close quarters how Adrestos’ horses trip over
a tamarisk branch, break the chariot's pole and run away – and then zoom
out in order to show how the horses are just two of many that are
stampeding across the plain towards the city (38–41n.). Contemporary
readers describe Homeric poetry as cinematic,9 but in antiquity there were
no helicopters from which to take aerial shots, and no cameras zooming in
or out. The poet's powers were truly divine: only the gods could view things
from above, or descend and observe the fighting at close quarters, without
fear of death. The poet makes that point explicitly at 4.539–42, when he
describes an especially fierce battle:

ἔνθά κεν οὐκέτι ἔργον ἀνὴρ ὀνόσαιτο μετελθών,

ὅς τις ἔτ᾽ ἄβλητος καὶ ἀνούτατος ὀξέϊ χαλκῶι
δινεύοι κατὰ μέσσον, ἄγοι δέ ἑ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
χειρὸς ἑλοῦσ᾽, αὐτὰρ βελέων ἀπερύκοι ἐρωήν·

Then no longer could a man have faulted their war work, on

arrival –
someone who, as yet unhurt and unstabbed by the piercing
bronze,
moved about in their midst, as Pallas Athena led him
taking his hand, and holding off the oncoming spears.10

Divine inspiration, then, is not just a matter of conventional invocations to

the Muses. It shapes the poet's relationship to space, and his treatment of
time. More importantly still, it informs his moral outlook. The poet can
always tell whether the gods are present or absent (1n.) and knows what
they plan. At the very beginning of the Iliad he asks the Muse to sing the
wrath of Achilles and tell how ‘the will of Zeus was accomplished’ (1.5).
The characters inside the poem have only a limited understanding of their
own circumstances and have no sure knowledge of the future. The poet, by
contrast, knows everything: his song follows the plan of Zeus and describes
in painful detail what it entails for mortals. There is, then, a wide gap
between the poet (and his audience), who know the future and the will of
the gods; and the characters inside the narrative, who struggle, in their
ignorance, with their hopes and fears (see, for example, 237–41n.). There is
just one character, in Iliad 6, who does share the perceptions of the poet, at
least to an extent. At 357–8n. Helen presents herself, Paris and, indirectly,
Hector as future subjects of song – and sees a link between her human
suffering, the fate decreed by Zeus and the delight of future epic audiences.
Helen's clear-sightedness is unusual and derives, in part, from her unique
position in the poem. As the war rages over her, she – standing in the eye of
the storm – sees herself from the perspective of future audiences. Helen
thus momentarily comes close to sharing the poet's own vantage point and,
like him, draws a connection between Zeus's plans, human suffering, and
poetry. And yet her vision does not stem from an objective knowledge of
what was, is and shall be – for all that she is the daughter of Zeus (just like
the Muses themselves). In the Iliad Helen's divinity is played down, and she
shapes her vision of the future not like a goddess or a singer, but like a
woman with immediate and pressing concerns. She wants Hector to stay
with her: she needs him to focus on her plight and wants him to feel special
because of his connection with her. In Helen's handling, future poetry
becomes a weapon of seduction (343–58n., 357–8n.). Her words are not an
impartial statement of fact, but an attempt to manipulate the situation so as
to flatter Hector and persuade him to stay. Helen cannot ultimately escape
the pain and uncertainty of her own human condition. At 3.234–42, for
example, she looks for her brothers among the Achaean troops and wonders
why they are not there: at that point, the poet informs us that they are
already dead (3.243–4).
There is a great difference between what we know with utter certainty
(because the poet, the Muses and Zeus himself guarantee it), and what the
characters themselves think, feel and fear. This gap in knowledge is crucial
to the Iliad as a whole but is especially important in book 6. We know that
Troy must fall; and so, when Hector enters the city, we are confronted with
a place and a people that are, from our perspective, already doomed. This is
not just a general impression: it is reinforced by many details in the
narrative. The women of Troy, for example, pray that Diomedes die in front
of the Scaean Gates – but we know that he will survive the war: we thus
realise that their prayer is futile (306–7n.), even before the poet describes
Athena's response to it (311n.). The poet's narrative is in tune with the plans
and actions of the gods, but also with what we already know, as competent
epic audiences. It is of course difficult to establish, in every case, what kind
of knowledge the poet assumed of his listeners. In some cases, allusions
seem clear. When Hector picks up his baby son and tosses him about in his
arms, we recognise a familiar gesture, which usually makes babies squeal
with fear and elation – but we also remember Astyanax's individual fate: the
next time a soldier picks him up, he will throw him off the walls (466–
81n.). Other allusions are harder to assess: according to Euripides’
Alexander, Paris was meant to be killed in infancy, but he survived and
returned to Troy as a grown man. Hecuba tried to kill him on his return but
then recognized him as her child and welcomed him back into the city. At
280–5n. Hector says to Hecuba, of all people, that he wishes her own son
Paris was dead: that is a hard thing for any mother to hear, but to those
audiences who knew the legend staged in the Alexander, Hector's comment
will have seemed particularly harsh – a pointed allusion to Hecuba's own
role in saving Paris’ life. Early audiences did not have complete mastery of
every aspect of the epic tradition: they did not instantly recognise all verbal
echoes with the facility of a computer search engine. The point, rather, is
that what the poet told his audiences resonated with what they already knew
about his characters; and that, conversely, further stories, legends and
poems developed around the Iliad: as a result of that process, the Iliad itself
became richer, and more allusive, in the course of time (e.g. 434n.).
The main effect of our knowledge, and of the characters’ lack of it, is a
sense of tragic irony – a realisation that mortals have no sure understanding
of the gods, or even of themselves. The Iliad enables us to see the
limitations of humankind from the perspective of divine knowledge; but the
spectacle is not simply entertaining, because the pain, suffering and
uncertainty of Homer's characters are ultimately our own. Sometimes,
characters do have moments of insight: at 447–9n., for example, Hector
declares that he knows Troy will fall. And yet he cannot hold on to that
realisation: only moments later, with his baby son in his arms, he hopes for
a better future (475–81n.). Later still, Hector declares that he does not know
what awaits him: he tells himself and his wife that all they can do is behave
dutifully, as their destiny unfolds (485–93n.); but even that sense of clarity,
and resignation, gives way to wild hope at the very end of the book. As
Hector leaves the city and prepares to face the enemy, he depicts an unlikely
image of future happiness: one day, after the Achaeans have been defeated,
he will raise a toast to freedom together with his brother Paris, and the other
Trojan men (520–9n., 526–9n.). This last wish clashes violently with what
we know will happen to the Trojans and their city. The prophetic knowledge
of the poet, together with the human frailty and uncertainty of his
characters, provokes in the audience a mixture of pleasure and pain. As
Macleod points out, in Homer we find ‘an awareness of the paradox that
pain, as recorded in art, can give pleasure – and not only of this aesthetic
paradox, but also of the fact it rests on, namely the difference between art
and life, tragedy and suffering’.11 In Homer's Iliad we do indeed recognise
the seeds of Greek tragedy; but more importantly still, we recognise
ourselves.12 Homeric audiences, and readers, need no special knowledge in
order to understand, for example, Hector's sudden surge of hope, as he
holds his baby son in his arms; or imagine Hecuba's pain, as she hears one
of her sons wish death on another. The Muses guarantee the truthfulness of
the poet's song: they are goddesses, are present and can describe with utter
precision what happened at Troy. But the poem is true also because it
connects with what audiences know, from their own experience, about
human life.

2. The Composition of Homeric Epic

The poet never specifies his intended audience, or the context of his
performance. This has led to great speculation about the circumstances
under which the Iliad was composed; but there are, in fact, good reasons for
the poet's silence. The poem aspires to be a tale of universal interest, and
the poet, as Griffith points out, avoids establishing a privileged relationship
with a particular addressee, or audience.13 Scodel argues that he tells his
story in a manner which does not divide audiences over controversial
issues: he does not draw attention to mythological innovations, for
example.14 That he shows little interest in local legends and cults has long
been recognised.15 Because of the poet's reticence, and the scarcity of
external evidence, it is difficult to establish how and when the Iliad was
composed, so it seems best to start with two points on which there is
general consensus. The poem clearly belongs to a rich and ancient tradition
of epic poetry. Its language and compositional techniques were honed over
a long period of time: they developed for the purpose of singing the deeds
of gods and men to a particular rhythm, what we call the hexameter ‘line’.
The second point on which there is broad agreement is that, by the second
half of the sixth century BCE, the Iliad was well known. The material record
preserves many late archaic images inspired by the Iliad; and the earliest
explicit quotation from the poem also dates to this period. Simonides
singles out a line from book 6, and calls it ‘the finest thing the Chian man
said’: 146n. Some doubt the authenticity of Simonides’ fragment 19 West,
but his treatment of Homer fits a late sixth-century or early fifth-century
context: we know that at that time artists were selecting and reworking their
favourite Iliadic episodes.16 We also know that Theagenes was writing
about Homer in the late sixth century: as Cassio argues, the fact that there
were written disquisitions about Homeric epic suggests that there were also
written copies of his poems by 530–520 BCE.17 It thus seems that the Iliad
was widely known in the late sixth century BCE, and that written copies
were available. When precisely the poem came into being is much more
difficult to establish: current suggestions range from c. 800 BCE to as late as
the sixth century itself.18 Those who champion an early date of composition
tend to argue that Homer himself wrote down or dictated a master copy of
the Iliad.19 Those who support a sixth-century date often emphasise the
importance of an Athenian ‘recension’.20 According to some sources, the
tyrant Pisistratus or one of his sons decreed that only Homer had to be
recited, in the correct order, at the most important city festival: the Great
Panathenaea.21 Those reports do not speak of a state-owned text; they refer
to a situation in which the state monitored the performance of Homeric
poetry. The debate over the date of composition of the Iliad reflects, in part,
a difference in emphasis: some scholars focus on the original contribution
by an early poet, others on the earliest known historical context for Homeric
recitation. Beyond these differences, all Homerists agree that a sixth-
century ‘recension’ must have captured something older; it is also clear that
even if texts of the Iliad existed in the seventh century, they did not much
affect the reception of the poem: they were scores or scripts, rather than
works of literature. Most people appreciated the Iliad through listening, not
reading.
 Our own love of reading, and appreciation of writing, may lead in fact to
wrong assumptions: in the Iliad writing (or something close to it) is
depicted as an especially nasty and devious business. At 168–70n. Proitos
asks Bellerophontes to deliver a folded tablet to the king of Lycia, on which
he has inscribed the order to kill the bearer of the message.22
Bellerophontes thus goes into exile carrying with him his own death
warrant. There is no hint, in the Homeric poems, that writing may be used
to record great deeds, or help singers compose their songs. This may simply
be because Homeric epic is set in a distant, heroic past, where writing did
not yet exist or was just being invented by resourceful crooks like Proitos.
The actual context of composition of the Iliad may have been quite different
from the situation depicted inside the poem.23 What remains true, however,
is that the poet of the Iliad describes his own work in terms of singing
(ἀοιδή) and listening (κλέος): he therefore invites his audience, and indeed
his readers, to consider his poem as a live performance. The hexameter
rhythm is an integral part of that performance, and shapes the language,
grammar, and narrative structures of the Iliad.

2.1 The hexameter

The rhythm of Homeric poetry is the dactylic hexameter.24 It consists of

five dactylic feet or metra (– ◡◡ ), and a sixth foot that scans – –. The last
syllable in the line can be short or long, but is always measured long,
because there is a pause in recitation at the end of the verse. Dactyls can be
replaced with spondees (– –), though this is rare in the fifth foot (about 5
per cent of lines in the whole of early Greek epic; e.g. 232–3n.). Homeric
lines may consist exclusively of dactyls (e.g. 6.13) or, exceptionally,
spondees (e.g. 2.544); but most lines are a mixture of the two.
For the purposes of scansion, each verse is divided into syllables, without
regard for word division; that is, word divisions can fall within syllables: it
is only at the end of the line that there is always a break (for other breaks
see below). A syllable is long if it is ‘closed’ (i.e. ends with a consonant), or
if it has a long vowel or diphthong; otherwise it is short. The letters η and ω
represent long vowels; ε and ο represent short ones. α, ι, υ may be either
long or short.
Syllables begin with the consonant that precedes a vowel, if there is one;
otherwise they begin with the vowel itself. When two consonants occur in
succession (other than at the beginning of the line), the second consonant
starts the following syllable, while the first (normally) belongs to the
preceding one, which is therefore closed. This is also true of the consonant
clusters which, in the Greek alphabet, are represented by a single letter (ζ, ξ
and ψ = zd, ks and ps). The sound w, represented by digamma (ϝ), was lost
early in the Ionic dialect but continued to affect the rhythm of Homeric epic
– even if not consistently.25 Epic performers knew, for example, that the
word (ϝ)ἄστυ behaved as if it began with a consonant; but, in some rare
cases, they ignored that and treated it as a normal word starting with α (e.g.
18.274). Similarly, the digamma before the 3rd pers. sing. pronoun (ϝ)ἕ,
(ϝ)ἕθεν, (ϝ)οἷ, etc. was generally felt (e.g. 16–17n., ἀλλά οἱ), but not always;
some editors try to restore it in all cases, but there is no reason to suppose
there was total consistency on the matter: cf. 90n. (ὅς οἱ δοκέει). At the
beginning of a word, the sounds represented by μ, ν, ρ, λ and σ are
sometimes drawn out to close a preceding syllable, even when no other
consonant follows; in some papyri and manuscripts this is marked by a
double consonant, see e.g. 91n. (ἐνὶ μεγάρωι).26 Conversely, plosive
consonants (π, β, ϕ, τ, δ, θ, κ, γ, χ) sometimes start a syllable although they
are followed by a second, nasal or liquid consonant (μ, ν, λ, ρ). In those
cases, the previous syllable may therefore be open (e.g. 6.163: βασιλῆα
προσηύδα, ba-si-lē-a-pro-sēu-dā, scanned ◡◡ ||– ◡◡ ||– –).
When followed by another vowel, a short vowel is elided (e.g. 6.1: δ᾽
οἰώθη); and a long vowel is often shortened (this is called correption, e.g.
6.69: μιμνέτω ὥς, scanned – ◡◡ ||–). Diphthongs too may be shortened
when followed by a vowel. In such cases, the second element (ι or υ) was
perhaps pronounced like a consonant (like English y and w), making the
syllable open (e.g. 6.1: καὶ Ἀχαιῶν).27 When two vowels are juxtaposed and
there is no elision or correption, they may come together to form a single
syllable (so-called ‘crasis’, ‘mixing’, cf. 260n.: καὐτός) or each retain their
natural length (‘hiatus’, cf. 6.388: ἐπειγομένη ἀϕικάνει).
 Greek poetry usually avoids hiatus (lit. the ‘gap’ or ‘opening’ in sound,
when a word ending in a vowel is followed by a word beginning with one).
In Homeric poetry, however, hiatus is much more frequent than in later
epic.28 It arises, for example, when traditional expressions are adapted to
new contexts (e.g. δεκάτη ἐϕάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς, 175n.). In many cases
the loss of initial digamma at an early stage in the epic tradition resulted in
a hiatus that is merely apparent; see, e.g., 16–17n.: ἀλλά (ϝ)οἱ; 6.56: κατὰ
(ϝ)οἶκον; 6.75: Ἕκτορι (ϝ)εἶπε; 6.148: ϕύει (ϝ)ἔαρος; 6.256: περὶ (ϝ)ἄστυ;
6.258: μελιηδέα (ϝ)οἶνον; 6.451: Πριάμοιο (ϝ)ἄνακτος. But there are also
several cases of true hiatus: because the tradition allowed hiatus where there
had once been a digamma, other cases may have sounded acceptable too.
Hiatus is particularly common where the rhythm of the hexameter is
interrupted by a word break (caesura); cf. 6.8: υἱὸν Ἐϋσσώρου |||| Ἀκάμαντ᾽
ἠΰν τε μέγαν τε.
The whole hexameter line is hard to pronounce in one breath; word
breaks occur at specific places and tend not to occur at others.29 A word
division must occur around the middle of the line, where the break is clearly
useful for the performing bard: it takes place either after the first short
syllable of the third foot (the so-called ‘feminine’ caesura, which is the
most common), or after the first long syllable of that foot (the ‘masculine’
caesura) or, less often, after the first long syllable of the fourth foot (the
hephthemimeral).30 Word division is also common between the fourth and
the fifth foot (bucolic diairesis): this produces a separate unit || – ◡◡ || – –
at the end of the hexameter verse, which often leads on to a runover line.
There is usually no word division between the first and the second short
syllable of the fourth foot: at that point the rhythm runs smoothly on
towards the end of the line. This phenomenon is called ‘Hermann's
bridge’.31 Like many other aspects of Homeric rhythm, it too is a strong
tendency rather than a hard-and-fast rule.
Oral performance is greatly facilitated by lines that are self-contained
units of thought. The performer makes a brief pause at the end of the line,
before gathering his thoughts and launching into the next line: when lines
express self-sufficient units of thought, the break at the end of each line
does not disrupt the performer's train of thought or impair the audience's
ability to follow his performance. Most Homeric lines are grammatically
complete;32 though lines often start in enjambment: they elaborate (e.g.
154n.), qualify (e.g. 126n. and 260n.), or modify (e.g. 37–8n.) what has just
been said.33 There are two different kinds of enjambment: most often, a line
is grammatically complete and could stand on its own, but an additional
phrase extends it, in what we call ‘progressive’ enjambment.34 Less
frequently, in order to make grammatical sense, a line requires an addition
in ‘necessary’ enjambment (see, e.g., πεϕνέμεν, 180n.).35 In antiquity
Homer was considered a master of enjambment: in the Contest of Homer
and Hesiod, his rival Hesiod challenges him to complete lines that cannot
stand on their own without correction or qualification; and Homer always
overcomes the challenge, with miraculous resourcefulness.36 In the Iliad
there are many cases of striking enjambment, which must have been even
more striking in performance: see, e.g., 130–1n. with 139–40n., 341n.,
413n. and 496n.
Enjambment is clearly used to expressive effect: the progressive type, for
example, suits the weighty register of epic catalogues.37 Necessary
runovers, by contrast, often convey the urgency and animation of Iliadic
speeches (see, e.g., 477n.). This is particularly evident at the beginning of
Andromache's speech, when she first addresses Hector: as Bakker points
out, Andromache's speech creates ‘a rhythmical profile that runs
increasingly against the basic rhythm of the hexameter’.38 In Andromache's
speech, units of rhythm, and of thought, often start after the bucolic
diairesis, rather than at the beginning of the line: this alternative rhythm
seems to reflect her emotional strain and characterises fraught speeches also
elsewhere in the poem.39
Though rhythm is not generally used to expressive effect in Homer,40
there are, then, exceptions. At 506–11n., for example, the overlapping
runovers match the swift movement of the horse; and the effect is
reinforced by the ‘galloping’ dactyls of 511n., as Kirk points out.41 At
157n. Glaukos’ exceptionally ugly and impressive κάκ᾽ ἐμήσατο θυμῶι, at
the end of the line, is made even uglier by the fact that he disregards
Hermann's bridge – that is to say, he inserts a word break, where the line
usually runs smoothly on. At 164n. Anteia's brutal rhetoric matches the
disjointed rhythm of her speech. Elision too can have a powerful impact,
especially at the beginning of the line: 165n., 413n. Even hiatus can
sometimes be expressive: at 306n. it lends urgency to Theano's prayer.
Whether or not the poet of the Iliad made use of writing, all this shows that
he understood the power of rhythm in performance.

2.2 Formulae and their meaning

Rhythm shapes the language of epic. In composing his song, the poet of the
Iliad draws on a large and well-established stock of phrases, which fit the
rhythm of the hexameter line. Comparative studies show that repeated
phrases, or formulae, help bards to compose poetry in real time, as they
perform in front of an audience. In the 1930s Milman Parry and Albert Lord
recorded the performances of illiterate Bosnian guslari and showed that
they were able to recite very long poems – not by remembering a script, but
by combining formulaic expressions, and by arranging them into well-
established narrative patterns, or ‘themes’. Formulae and themes were, to a
large extent, inherited: they had developed over generations, in order to
enable singers to compose, or re-compose, their poems in the course of live
performances. The guslar had at his disposal a stock of different formulae
that described the same character, situation, thing or action, each of which
had a specific metrical shape. He could choose the appropriate formula
depending on how many beats he needed in order to reach the end of the
line.
Parry showed that in Homeric epic there is usually just one formula
describing a particular character or action in any given metrical unit: this
formulaic economy, or ‘thrift’, enabled bards to get to the end of the line
without having to take too long thinking about different options for
describing an action or character. The language of Homeric epic is thus
characterised by formulaic economy. This characteristic emerges clearly, for
example, when we consider some of the more common noun–epithet
formulae used to describe Hector, in the nominative, at the end of the line.42
He is called μέγας κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ after the feminine caesura (e.g.
263n.):

– ◡◡ || – ◡◡ || – ◡ μέγας κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ

A briefer formula is used after the hephthemimeral caesura (116 etc.):

 – ◡◡ || – ◡◡ || – ◡◡ || – κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ

After the bucolic diairesis, when only two feet are left, Hector is called
ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ (466n., 472, 494, etc.), or ὄβριμος Ἕκτωρ, in contexts
where ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ is metrically impossible (8.473, 10.200, 11.347,
14.44):

– ◡◡ || – ◡◡ || – ◡◡ || – ◡◡ || ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ/ὄβριμος Ἕκτωρ

This kind of analysis helps to explain when these formulae are used; what
remains to be seen is how they affect the audience. Milman Parry, in an
influential study entitled ‘The meaning of the epithet in epic poetry’,
reached rather discouraging conclusions about the significance of noun–
epithet formulae: he argued that many epithets had no special meaning in
relation to the context in which they were used, that audiences felt
indifferent towards them, and that they were perhaps best left
untranslated.43 This sort of approach does not seem entirely satisfactory:
traditional epithets, and other formulaic expressions, are not equivalent to
an instrumental interlude, or a bit of humming, or some other wordless
rhythmical ‘filling’. They are words, and affect audiences through their
meaning, as well as through their rhythmical qualities.
Modern readers often find the traditional formulations of Homeric poetry
repetitive and burdensome: in his reworking of the Iliad the poet
Christopher Logue, for example, decided ‘(mostly) to omit Homer's
descriptive epithets’.44 In antiquity too, the formularity of Homer became
increasingly obsolete: in keeping with their literary sensibilities, Hellenistic
scholars often championed a less formulaic text of Homer than that found in
the mainstream tradition.45 In order to assess the effect of formulae on early
audiences, it is perhaps best to start with the reactions to epic performances
described in the Homeric poems themselves.
The Phaeacians trust Odysseus because he sounds like a singer, there is a
‘shape of words’ to his performance (Od. 11.367, quoted above). This is an
apt description of traditional epic language: formulae have a specific shape,
and they do inspire trust. The poet does not describe actions and characters
simply as the fancy takes him; there is a rhythm and an order to his words.
Although the formulaic system is used with remarkable flexibility and
inventiveness in the Iliad, rhetorically, it conveys an impression of stability.
Traditional epithets, for example, link specific characters to their aptest
attributes. Hector is κορυθαιόλος, ‘of the gleaming helmet’, throughout the
Iliad. Most of the time the epithet remains in the background: it reminds the
audience, unobtrusively, that Hector is an impressive-looking warrior. In
book 6, however, the poet reflects on Hector's warlike appearance and
brings his epithet into focus. At 467–70n. baby Astyanax suddenly realises
that his father is indeed κορυθαιόλος and lets out a mighty scream. The
scene makes us smile (471n.), not only because the baby's reaction is
described in such vivid and realistic detail, but also because the poet adapts
standard battlefield formulations in order to describe a most unwarlike
episode (468n., 469–70n.).
There is often a dynamic, expressive tension between the traditional
formulations used by the poet and the specific situations he describes. The
use of patronymics is a case in point. Sons bear their fathers’ names and
should live up to their memory: patronymics are precisely a means of
remembering the father when describing the son. And yet the narrative
shows how the relationship between fathers and sons is seldom
straightforward. At 119n. the poet formally introduces ‘Glaukos, son of
Hippolochos’ and Diomedes ‘son of Tydeus’, as they drive forward ready to
fight one another. In the ensuing encounter between the two, Glaukos tries
hard to live up to the expectations of his father (206–11n.) and fails;
Diomedes, by contrast, claims that he cannot even remember his own father
(222–3n.) and proposes an exchange of gifts in honour of a friendship
between grandfathers: 215–21n. The use of the patronymic at 401n. is even
more devastating: the poet calls Astyanax Ἑκτορίδην, ‘son of Hector’. The
word is traditional in meaning and formation; but it is, in fact, unique: a
hapax legomenon – something the poet says only once. There are obvious
reasons for this: Astyanax will never grow up to be Hector's heir. The poet
makes up a patronymic for him only shortly before the baby dies. And
Astyanax will die precisely because he is ‘the son of Hector’, as
Andromache points out: 24.734–8.
Traditional formulations describe the world as it should be: they
encapsulate, for example, the orderly succession from father to son. But in
fact, the poet often draws attention to the distance between his traditional,
inherited ‘beauty of words’ and the painful tale he sings: Hector ‘of the
gleaming helmet’ frightens his son; and later, when Achilles kills him and
drags him from his chariot, the poet describes how ‘the dust rose around
him, as he was dragged away, and his black hair spread out, and his whole
head was in the dust, which had been beautiful before’ (22.401–3). That
image shows Hector without his shining helmet.
Not all epithets are thrown into relief in quite this way; some remain in
the background, but they too add to the texture of the poem: many words,
for example, convey a sense of brilliance (cf., e.g., 26–7n.: ϕαίδιμα γυῖα;
and 31n.: δῖος). They also, unobtrusively, express some fundamental values:
war is dreadful (1n.); death is terrible (16–17n.). Homer's traditional
formulations constitute a powerful language, then; they are not simply a
toolkit of metrically convenient expressions, or empty fillers.46 Like many
other aspects of Homeric poetry – ranging from metre, to diction, to
grammar – formulae are far from rigidly mechanical. There are some stable
patterns; and, even more often, there are recognisable tendencies: some
epithets, for example, gravitate towards certain nouns but are not exclusive
to them (12n: βοὴν ἀγαθός). Some phrases or lines are repeated just twice:
they are not standard formulae or type scenes, therefore, but they are also
not unique: 9–11n., 447–9n., 506–11n.47 It does not seem possible to draw
sharp distinctions between inherited, traditional formulations and original
contributions on the part of the poet. In fact, any sharp distinction between
tradition and innovation seems unhelpful: the poet, inspired by the Muse,
sings what happened at Troy ‘as if he had been there himself’ (Od. 8.491).
Traditional formulae help him in this task; but in order to describe unique,
and often startling, events – such as the conversation between Glaukos and
Diomedes, the encounter between Hector and his son Astyanax, or the
defilement of Hector's body – the poet adapts and reworks the language of
epic, in order to convey what happened precisely, and in vivid detail.

2.3 Traditional narrative patterns

As well as shorter formulae, the poet also makes use of larger narrative
patterns and structures, which help give shape and significance to the story.
Catalogues, as has already emerged, are a distinctive feature of Homeric
poetry: they enable the poet to express and organise his impressive
knowledge of the heroic past.48 Well-established structures are also
employed in the description of common actions or events: Homeric
characters arm themselves, bathe, eat, fight, die and lament the dead
according to recognisable routines, or ‘type scenes’.49 Speeches also follow
standard templates and can be divided into several different categories,
depending on their purpose and their formal characteristics: there are, for
example, clearly defined martial exhortations, prayers, supplications,
laments for the dead and verbal assaults (‘flyting’: 123–43n.). Formalised
lines mark the beginning and end of speeches, and they express something
important about their tone, significance and effect (45n., 51n.). Other
traditional devices are standardly used to structure the poems: at the end of
a speech or episode, for example, the poet often echoes its beginning, in
‘ring composition’ (e.g. 123–43n., 253–62n. and see below p. 18).50
These traditional patterns were doubtless technically helpful, and we can
imagine how experienced singers must have taught beginners how to do a
supplication speech, or round off a killing. We know that, in the South
Slavic tradition, the guslari learnt from one another how to ‘ornament’ a
horse or a hero (as they put it); they knew, in other words, how to describe
the arming of a hero, or the appearance of his beautiful horse, according to
standard templates, which facilitated (re-)composition in performance.51
But the point, for readers of Homer, is not so much to learn traditional
techniques of composition, but to appreciate their effect, and the different
uses to which they are put in the Iliad. Like formulae, traditional narrative
patterns contribute to an impression of ‘shape and beauty’ (μορϕή: Od.
11.368). They suggest that there is a proper way of doing things: the actions
of epic characters often have a formalised quality to them. When Hecuba
enters her store room and selects her favourite garment, for example, her
actions resemble those of Priam at 24.191–237, when he enters the store
room, and those of Helen at Odyssey 15.99–108, when she selects a
garment for Telemachus. The verbal similarities between these different
passages are not uniquely significant (they are not as pointed and deliberate
as the rare repeated lines in Virgil, for example); and yet they lend to the
passage a distinctive shape (288–95n.).
Sometimes, traditional narrative patterns are put to more specific and
pointed use. It is rewarding to pay attention to divergences and adaptations,
because the poet often harnesses the expectations of competent listeners to
great dramatic effect. At 110–18n., for example, Hector delivers a speech of
martial exhortation. He starts in conventional fashion but then makes a
radical departure from the norm. Just at the point when exhortations usually
feature an appeal for unity and solidarity among men on the battlefield
(113n.), Hector declares that he alone will go back into the city and meet up
with the wives of his soldiers – while they stay out and fight. This is a
shocking statement, not just for Hector's troops, but also for Homeric
audiences familiar with the rhetoric of martial exhortation. Even catalogues,
which may be thought intrinsically static in form, can actually have
dramatic impact, and considerable narrative momentum. The catalogue of
killings at the beginning of book 6, for example, is arranged in a steady
crescendo: in the first entry, Ajax kills one opponent; in the next, Diomedes
kills two; Euryalos then kills four men in quick succession; and the
catalogue then adds seven deaths in an even shorter compass: 5–36n. By
line 36 it is clear that the Achaeans are about to defeat the Trojans, even
before the poet says so explicitly.
Traditional patterns, then, should not be regarded as the unwieldy legacy
of an oral tradition, but rather as versatile poetic resources. The poet
commands a very rich and diverse tradition, from which he draws together
and combines many different elements. Glaukos’ speech, for example, is
cast as a genealogy and invites listeners to reflect on an issue that is more
generally relevant to genealogical accounts: in every family history there
are rises and falls; there are generations that stand out for their
achievements, and others that contribute to a family decline. Glaukos tries
hard to present himself as the culmination of his family's hopes and
aspirations (206–11n.), but in fact it is his grandfather Bellerophontes who
dominates his family history.
Often, the poet combines different traditional elements to striking effect:
when Andromache addresses Hector as he is about to leave for the
battlefield, she opens and closes her speech in a manner that recalls
battlefield rebukes – but with a difference. Instead of urging Hector to go
forward and fight in the first line of battle, as in ordinary rebukes, she tells
him to put the troops forward and to direct operations from inside the walls
(431–9). This suggestion shocked ancient readers, but the main part of her
speech explains her perspective – in the most direct and harrowing way.
Between her opening reproach and her closing suggestion, Andromache
performs something close to a funeral lament, in front of her living
husband. She thus enacts, for him, the consequences of his actions. The
poet later comments explicitly on Andromache's performance: he says that,
on returning home, she instilled in all the women a need to mourn, and that
‘they lamented Hector in his own home, while he was still living’ (500n.).
This is one of many lines that mark the end of the book through ring
composition: see also 482–3n., 494n., 495n., 497n., 499n., 501–2n., 515–
16n. and 520–9n. All these circles close off the last encounter between
husband and wife – and foreshadow the end of everything that mattered to
them: the death of Hector, the enslavement of Andromache, the murder of
Astyanax, the fall of the city.

2.4 Language
Almost half the Iliad consists of direct speech; book 6 exceeds even that
proportion: speeches take up more than 60 per cent of the overall number of
lines. Homeric characters use language in an impressive and memorable
way: they pun (e.g. 130–1n., 139–40n., 143n., 201n., 284n., 328–9n. with
331n.), quote proverbs and maxims (146n., 261n., 339n., 492–3n.), subvert
or parody traditional language (255n., 260n., 336n.) and often use
flamboyant turns of phrase (143n., 344n., 413n.). Characters have a
recognisable, individual style: Hector tends to be formal and restrained,
except for one sudden, frustrated outburst when he talks to his mother (280–
5n.). Paris sounds self-indulgent, petulant and insecure (332–41n., 517–
19n.); Hecuba uses dramatic gestures and vigorous language (255n.);
Helen's words are as inviting as her appearance (343–58n.).
In comparison with the language of his characters, the poet is more even:
some words occur only in character speech, because they are too colourful,
or imply too strong a value judgement.52 And yet the language of the poet is
far from rigid or monotonous: he too puns on words (500n.) and uses
memorable phrases (e.g. 496n.). Objects and situations affect his language:
the description of Priam's palace, for example, is solid and painstaking
(242–52n.); while the scene where Paris runs towards Hector requires a
more free-flowing approach (503–5). The language of the similes is often
more varied and idiosyncratic than that of the main narrative: when the poet
makes a comparison, he moves away from the battlefield, and this is
reflected in the greater variety of his vocabulary and style.53 The famous
simile at 506–14n. is a good example: the poet describes the mood and
movement of the horse in a style that recalls the more idiosyncratic
language and syntax of character speech.
The language of the poet is often influenced by the concerns and
perspectives of his characters: narratologists call the phenomenon
‘embedded focalisation’.54 When Hector looks at Astyanax in silence, for
example, the poet uses the language of doting parents, and he piles on
words of endearment for the little boy: Ἑκτορίδην ἀγαπητόν, ἀλίγκιον
ἀστέρι καλῶι, ‘son of Hector, beloved, beautiful like a shining star’ (401n.,
cf. 400–3n.). Later, the poet describes how Astyanax perceives his father, as
he looks up to his terrifying helmet: 470n. This is a striking case of
focalisation, where the poet describes things from the perspective of a baby
who is too young to talk. Sometimes, it is the characters who adopt the tone
and register of the poet. At 414–28n., for example, Andromache gives an
account of her family history, thus completing the information provided by
the poet shortly before (395–8n.). This kind of juxtaposition between main
narrative and character speech is typical of Homeric epic and was of
interest to ancient readers;55 sometimes, it involves a drastic change of tone,
but not in this case: Andromache sounds almost as distanced and objective
as the poet. Her tone reveals, with devastating clarity, that her dependence
on Hector is a matter of fact, not just an emotion: if Hector dies, nobody
will be able to look after her, because her father, her brothers and her
mother are already dead.
Homeric language is, at times, difficult to translate – not because it is
particularly erudite or recherché, but because it contains many traditional
words and expressions that were not entirely transparent even to the earliest
audiences of the Iliad. Comparative studies show that traditional texts
(whether oral or written) tend to retain archaic words beyond the point
when they are easily comprehensible: the liturgical formula ‘the quick and
the dead’, for example, retains a use of ‘quick’ (= ‘living’) which is almost
extinct in standard, contemporary English. The diction of Homeric epic is
likewise characterised by inherited expressions, and the poet sometimes
glosses within the text itself: at the very beginning of book 6, for example,
ϕύλοπις is followed by the common noun μάχη. While the exact meaning of
ϕύλοπις was debated in antiquity, the word was powerful and expressive: it
sounded warlike, and later Greek poets used it precisely in order to evoke
the heroic battles described in early hexameter poetry (1n.). There are, then,
some obvious continuities between the glosses contained in the poem itself,
the explanations given by ancient scholars and lexicographers, and the
definitions offered in standard modern dictionaries. For example, Homer
suggests two popular etymologies for the traditional epithet δαΐϕρων,
indicating that it may mean ‘warlike’ (cf. δαΐ = ‘battle’) or ‘wise’ (cf.
δαήμων = ‘knowledgeable, understanding’): 162n. The same alternative
meanings are preserved also in the Homeric scholia; and the LSJ proposes
the following translations: ‘warlike’, ‘fiery’, ‘wise’, ‘prudent’.
Sometimes, the point of particular words and expressions is not to convey
a straightforward meaning in the clearest possible way, but to mirror the
most mysterious and difficult aspects of human life and behaviour. It is not
entirely clear, for example, what exactly is meant by the description of
sacrificial cattle as ἤνις ἠκέστας (93–4n.), but the epithets sound ancient and
precise and suggest ritual propriety. Death is shrouded in mysterious
expressions (143n., 241n.); and the Chimaira is as impossible as the
adjective that characterises her: ἀμαιμακέτην, 179n. Many words try to
capture the unfathomable characteristics of the gods (e.g. 269n.: ἀγελείης),
and the poet occasionally even offers items of vocabulary in the language of
the gods: 4n. (Ξάνθοιο), 1.403, 14.290–1 and 20.74. Items of divine
vocabulary suggest, in the most direct way, that the poet's linguistic
competence derives from his special relationship with the Muse, but there
are also less direct ways in which he tries to explain to ordinary mortals the
nature of the gods. He reflects, for example, on the etymologies of divine
names and epithets: 419–20n. (κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο). Etymologising
passages are frequent also in Hesiod's Theogony (e.g. 195–8) and the
Homeric Hymns (311n.: Παλλάς; 428n.: Ἄρτεμις ἰοχέαιρα); and that is no
coincidence, because those texts too have divine authority: according to
Herodotus, ‘it was Hesiod and Homer…who first established a theogony for
the Greeks, gave epithets to the gods, defined their due honours and spheres
of influence and described their appearance’.56
Particles are also difficult to translate, not because they are obscure, but
because there are no straightforward equivalents in the English language.
They structure and organise Homeric discourse: their effect is sometimes
captured by our use of punctuation, and sometimes by conjunctions and
adverbs. Particles fit the hexameter rhythm, and different clusters suit
different metrical contexts; but this does not entail their being meaningless
padding: they enhance and organise the narrative, and establish a
connection with the audience. Bakker has shown in detail, for example,
how the particle ἄρ(α) or ῥα directs the attention of the audience to a
specific aspect of the story and brings it to life before their eyes.57 When
the poet uses the particle at the beginning of the book, 2n., he invites
audiences to visualise how the fighting intensified everywhere across the
plain. The poet Christopher Logue captures this aspect of Homeric poetry
not by using particles, but by challenging his readers directly: ‘See if you
can imagine how it looked.’58 At 9n. Homer uses the particle ῥα to draw
attention to a specific event – τόν ῥ᾽ ἔβαλε, Ajax ‘hit him’ – and then invites
the audience to follow the tip of Ajax's spear, as it penetrates into the
forehead of the enemy: πέρησε δ᾽ ἂρ ὀστέον εἴσω || αἰχμὴ χαλκείη (10n.).
Other particles are more discreet, but they too ensure that the audience stays
with the poet. The frequent δέ, for example, unobtrusively reminds the
audience that the poet is guiding them through the story, in proper order.59
Together with the rarer μέν, which anticipates important developments, δέ
can at times be rather pointed (e.g. 40n. with 42–3n., 167n. and 168n., 212–
31n., 279n. and 280n.).
Characters use particles in a more obviously rhetorical way than the poet.
Diomedes, for example, employs γε three times in quick succession: the
particles express his aggressiveness mixed with uncertainty (125n., 128–
9n.). Glaukos uses ἄρα to reveal the details of the plot against
Bellerophontes (158n.). Hecuba second-guesses Hector with ἦ μάλα δή
(255n.; cf. Paris at 518n.). Helen waves away the issue of her guilt with a
casual γε (349n.) and then uses ἄρ(α) twice in one line, in order to establish
a special relationship with Hector, at the expense of her husband Paris
(352n.). Hector responds by mentioning his own wife, excusing himself and
trying hard to sound reasonable: three γάρ-clauses in a row (359–68n.).

2.5 Grammar
Like every aspect of Homeric language, grammar is fundamentally shaped
by the hexameter rhythm. Different grammatical forms coexist, and make
Homeric language more versatile and suited to different metrical
combinations. For example, the poet can choose between linguistically
older, typically uncontracted forms, and more recent, contracted ones. The
early singular genitive ending in -οιο coexists with the contracted -ου; there
are genitive plurals in -άων and in -ῶν; earlier and later forms of the same
verb are often attested: for example, ϕοβέοντο (early) and ϕοβεύμενος (late).
Contracted forms may be artificially extended so as to fit the hexameter: the
phenomenon is called diectasis; cf. ϕόως (6n.) and τηλεθόωσα (148n.).
Some extended forms were never contracted in the first place, thus we find
the dative plural ἐπέεσσι(ν) alongside the expected ἔπε(σ)σι(ν); these
alternative forms suit different metrical contexts: 325n. Homeric language
fits itself exactly to the hexameter and as a result develops some artificial
forms (e.g. εὐχετάασθαι: 268n.).60 Genuine archaisms are preserved if they
are metrically convenient or sound especially grand and impressive.
Ancient forms in -ϕι, for example, are metrically useful alternatives to
genitive and dative case endings: 510n.
As well as mixing older and more recent forms, Homeric Greek draws
from several different dialects. It was never spoken by any real-life
community but rather developed for the specific purpose of singing the
deeds of gods and men to the six-foot rhythm.61 The predominant colouring
is Ionic (note, for example, the Ionic ending -η, replacing an older -ᾱ), and
this fits with ancient traditions that linked Homer to various birthplaces on
the coast of Asia Minor, especially Chios.62 There is also a strong Aeolic
component (one of Homer's putative birthplaces was Aeolian Cyme), and
there may be remnants of Mycenaean Greek.63 Scholars have also argued
for Euboean and Boeotian influences and pointed to several Attic elements,
though some of these have turned out not to be exclusive to the Attic
dialect, and many seem to concern matters of spelling.64 There were other
literary languages in the ancient world: in seventh-century Mesopotamia,
for example, the deeds of gods and heroes were recorded in Standard
Babylonian, an equally composite and artificial language.65 What
distinguishes Homeric Greek from other literary languages is the formative
influence of the hexameter: different dialect forms were selected so as to
provide metrically useful alternatives for saying the same thing. Infinitives,
for example, take many different endings: -ειν, -ναι (Ionic), and -μεν, -μεναι
(Aeolic); the Ionic pronouns ἡμεῖς/ὑμεῖς coexist with Aeolic ἄμμες/ὔμμες;
both the Ionic particle ἄν and the Aeolic alternative κε(ν) are attested and
suit different metrical situations.
 Ancient readers claimed that Homer knew all the Greek dialects.66 This
is an exaggeration that reflects, in part, his status as a poet of Panhellenic
appeal; but it is also true that Homeric epic displays a dazzling number of
different words and forms. Homer can say ‘to be’ in five different ways:
εἶναι, ἔμεν, ἔμμεν, ἔμεναι, ἔμμεναι; there are also five forms of ‘he was’: ἔην,
ἦεν, ἤην, ἦν, ἔσκε; and the nearly synonymous verbs γίνομαι, πέλομαι and
τέτυγμαι add to this already exuberant number of forms. Most of these
alternative words are metrically useful, and many are commonplace, but
there is also a sense that the poet commands an unfathomably rich
language.
In contrast to morphology, Homeric syntax is relatively simple. Complex
subclauses are rarer than in other genres, though they do feature, especially
in character speech (for example: 476–8n.). Sometimes, characters bend the
rules of Homeric grammar, as they struggle to express difficult emotions. A
good example is 280–5n.: when Hector wishes death on his own brother,
even his morphology and syntax become harsh and twisted. In comparison
with his characters, the style of the poet is simpler: he often strings together
sequences of main clauses, in what is called ‘parataxis’. Oral poets from
other traditions typically use parataxis, rather than complex subordinate
structures: they track the flow of ideas rather than aim at rhetorical
condensation.67 In an important study Bakker argues that parataxis reflects
the structures of spontaneous human thought and speech.68 Given that the
Iliad stems from a tradition of composition in performance, it makes sense
that it should rely on the structures of improvised speech. But parataxis is
not just a natural or convenient arrangement for oral performers: it defines
the Homeric style. By using parataxis, the poet describes the story as it
unfolds, without drawing attention to himself. At 9–11, for example, he
offers a series of main clauses marked by the particle ἄρα, as we have
already discussed: Ajax attacks an opponent, thrusts his spear into the man's
forehead, and the tip breaks through the bone. The attack, the impact and its
result are conveyed by successive sentences which, like camera shots, track
the movement of the spear. Straightforward sequences of main clauses, like
this one, enhance the impression of objectiveness – and make the narrative
exceptionally vivid.

2.6 Vividness
There have been many different responses to Homeric epic in the course of
its long history, but listeners and readers of different ages have been
impressed by its vividness. In The Contest of Homer and Hesiod 13 West,
for example, the audience react with amazement (θαυμάσαντες) at a recital
of Iliad 13.126–33 and 339–44 (a blindingly vivid passage).69 This is the
kind of response that the Iliad invites: the poet sometimes uses explicit
formulae of amazement in order to underline particularly impressive aspects
of his story: θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι, ‘a wonder to behold’; cf. ἦ μέγα θαῦμα τόδ᾽
ὀϕθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι, ‘that is a great wonder for my eyes to see’.70 In a
famous essay entitled Laocoön: on the limits of painting and poetry, the
eighteenth-century critic Gotthold Ephraim Lessing singles out Homer for
the exceptional vividness of his narrative, pointing out that he does not just
paint an image but shows how it evolves and develops over time: ‘when
Homer wants to show us how Agamemnon was dressed, he has the king put
on his garments, one by one, before our eyes’; ‘he places a single object in a
series of stages, in each of which it has a different appearance’.71 Lessing
praises Homer above any painter because, he argues, he tracks the
transformation of an image over time. As we have seen, modern readers
find his poetry cinematic.
Many factors contribute to the exceptional vividness of Homeric poetry,
some of which have already been discussed. There are the many bright
words that describe the heroic world: the scholia D ad 2.522 even gloss δῖος
as θαυμαστός, thus making a connection between this standard epic epithet
and the overall effect of Homeric poetry. There are the many particles
which keep the audience engaged and draw attention to salient details in the
narrative. And then there are grand panoramic vistas, and detailed
observations at close quarters. The poet's language is precise and
memorable, his syntax transparent; and speeches reveal the character of
those who utter them. But, above all, there is the poet's ability to connect
with our own perceptions, even across a gulf of almost three millennia. It is
not difficult to visualise, for example, Astyanax as he recoils, screaming,
into his nurse's arms – because we have all seen little children behave like
that. An ancient commentator praises lines 467–9 as follows (ΣbT ad
6.467):
 ταῦτα δὲ τὰ ἔπη οὕτως ἐστὶν ἐναργείας μεστά, ὅτι οὐ μόνον ἀκούεται τὰ
πράγματα, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὁρᾶται. λαβὼν δὲ τοῦτο ἐκ τοῦ βίου ὁ ποιητὴς
ἄκρως περιεγένετο τῆι μιμήσει.

These lines are so full of vividness because we do not just hear about
the events but see them too.72 Taking this scene from real life, the poet
achieves the highest degree of imitation.

The scholiast mentions μίμησις, ‘imitation’, a key concept in ancient

literary criticism. According to Plato, poetry imitates life, drama is the most
mimetic kind of literature, and Homer is ‘the path-finder of tragedy’.73
There are, indeed, many theatrical aspects to Homer's poetry. We get a clear
sense of how characters look and behave: in some cases the text comes
close to providing implicit ‘stage directions’. At 496n., for example, the
poet describes Andromache, as she walks home in tears and ‘turns back
again and again’ to look at Hector. The implication must be that Hector is
looking at her and is still standing by the Scaean Gates (the poet later
confirms this: 515–16n.). At 340–1n. we can likewise infer Hector's
behaviour from the way others react to him. Paris asks Hector to wait while
he gets ready for battle and then suddenly changes his mind: Hector should
go right ahead. We can easily imagine Hector's look at the mere suggestion
that he should stay around, while his soldiers die (for the sake of Paris) on
the battlefield.
Classical Greek tragedy, modern painting, contemporary film: the Iliad
has repeatedly been compared to the most vivid and visual means of
expression. These comparisons are, of course, anachronistic: in the end, it is
important to return, in ring composition, to our opening remarks. To the
poet of the Iliad, and his early audiences, vividness was a sign of divine
presence, a gift of the Muse. Homeric poetry was, as Ford has argued, a
kind of epiphany.74

3. Book 6 in The Structure of the Iliad

It is difficult to establish when the Iliad was divided into twenty-four books,
each represented by one letter of the alphabet.75 The division was clearly in
place in Hellenistic times but, as with many other aspects of the Homeric
text, we know far less about the situation in the archaic and classical period.
At 2.116 Herodotus discusses Iliad 6.289–92 and says that the lines are
found ‘in the exploit of Diomedes’ (ἐν Διομήδεος ἀριστείηι), a title that was
later reserved for book 5 alone. It follows that even if our book divisions are
early, as Jensen and others have argued, there were other ways of dividing
up the text in classical Greece.76 The issue of origins should not, however,
distract us from a more important point: the divisions at the beginning and
end of book 6 stem from an intelligent ancient articulation of the poem.
Book 6 is characterised by the gods’ absence: they abandon the battlefield
at 6.1 and only enter again at 7.17. The central episode of the book is
Hector's visit to Troy: lines 1–71 describe the crisis that leads to his
mission; lines 72–118 reveal Helenos’ plan to send Hector back and
describe him as he runs towards the city; an intervening episode concludes
the narrative of Diomedes’ exploits (119–236); and finally the poet
describes in detail Hector's visit: 237–529. The book ends as Hector and
Paris are on the point of leaving the city through the Scaean Gates, and at
7.1 they run out into the battlefield.
The first books of the Iliad introduce the main characters and evoke the
cause and beginning of the Trojan war: the poem opens with the clash
between Achilles and Agamemnon; the Catalogue of Ships in book 2 acts
as a reminder of the expedition; book 3 introduces Helen and her two
husbands; book 4 dramatises how a private quarrel over a woman can
become a war; in book 5 the fighting escalates; and in book 6 – as soon as
the gods leave the battlefield – the Achaeans break through the lines and
demonstrate their military superiority. The narrative now looks forward to
the time when the Achaeans will defeat the Trojans: it anticipates the end of
the poem (particularly books 22 and 24) and foreshadows the fall of the
city. It is book 6, more than any other, that makes the Iliad ‘a poem about
Troy’.
In comparison with other books, the plot hardly advances in Iliad 6: the
confrontation between Glaukos and Diomedes results in an exchange of
gifts rather than a duel; and Hector's mission fails in its purpose (311n.).
The tension in the book does not stem from momentous developments in
the narrative, but from a stark contrast between what the audience know
will happen to the city and what the characters inside it fear and hope. The
issue is introduced as soon as Hector enters the city at 237–41n., and the
poet constantly reminds the audience about the future of Troy: the second
half of the book focuses on the Trojan women in a manner that recalls early
accounts of the fall of Troy.77 The foreshadowing is, at times,
uncomfortably vivid: Hector's behaviour, in particular, mirrors the actions
of future conquerors. At 318–20n. he enters into Helen's bedroom fully
armed, and covered in blood – just like the Achaean soldiers who will soon
break into the homes and bedrooms of the Trojans, in order to loot, rape and
murder.78 The poet thus relies not only on the audience's familiarity with
the epic tradition, but also on their visual memory: he superimposes iconic
images of the fall of Troy onto his narrative of Hector's visit.
Whereas the audience know, in graphic detail, that Troy will fall, the
characters inside the story can only imagine what might happen. There is a
great sense of foreboding in their words, but there are also occasional
glimmers of hope, and self-delusion. The speeches in book 6 convey an
extraordinary range of emotions. Fear of the future is obvious in all
characters in Troy, with the possible exception of Helen. Andromache
cannot keep to her daily tasks, the strain is too great: 381–9n., 485–93n. and
494–502n. Hector himself is far from stable: his speeches vary widely in
tone and express many contradictory views about the future in close
succession. His vitriolic and frustrated outburst against Paris (280–5n.) is
quickly followed by a surprisingly restrained speech to him (325–31n.).
Hector is studiously reasonable in his reply to Helen (359–68n.); whereas
his first speech to Andromache ends in open despair (440–65n., 464–5n.).
He imagines Astyanax in his prime, and victorious over the enemy (475–
81n.), and then refuses to contemplate the future at all, insisting instead on
the importance of duty and the inscrutability of fate (485–93n.). And then
there are his sudden and unlikely hopes at the end of the book, which help
him make up with Paris and face the enemy (520–9n.).
Book 6 inspires an overwhelming sense of pity, on the part of the
audience, for the characters in the story. Pity also colours the characters’
own words and feelings: Andromache asks Hector to take pity on her
(407n., 431n.) and, when he sees her smiling tearfully at their baby, he does
indeed feel pity for his wife (484n.) but goes on to remind her about fate,
and duty and honour. The clash of feelings and values, the irreconcilable
difference between social expectations and individual needs, the ignorance
of the characters and the psychological complexity of their speeches, the
threat of madness (389n.), the aloofness of the gods and the audience's sure
knowledge of what will happen – all these aspects of book 6 make it
remarkably close to classical Greek tragedy.

3.1 The gods

Book 6 is marked by the temporary absence of the gods – but the characters
do not know that the gods have left, and we see them ask themselves
whether they are present. When Hector rallies the troops, and the Trojans
suddenly make a stand, the Achaeans think that a god in disguise
‘descended from starry heaven’: 107–9n. The supposition makes sense,
especially as a reaction to the events in the previous book. At 5.334–40
Diomedes wounds Aphrodite, who is rescuing her son Aeneas; he then
charges against Apollo, who reminds him of the difference between mortals
and gods: 5.436–44. Ares enters the fray at 5.461–2, and his intervention
draws Athena to the battlefield: she leaps onto Diomedes’ chariot (which
creaks under her weight) and drives it against Ares: 5.835–41. Diomedes
wounds the god: 5.855–63. It is only at the end of the book that Zeus
establishes some order, and the gods settle down on Olympus, while
mortals continue fighting. In book 6 we see Diomedes reflect on what has
just happened, mindful of the warning issued by Apollo. When Glaukos
challenges him, his reaction is a strange mixture of uncertainty and
aggression: if Glaukos is a god, then Diomedes will not fight him; but if he
is mortal, he should consider himself already dead (123–43n.). His speech
includes the cautionary tale of Lycurgus, who dared attack Dionysos and
was punished as a result; but it is only in the following speech, delivered by
Glaukos, that the inscrutability of the gods and the vulnerability of human
beings truly find expression: 144–211. Diomedes still behaves as if he can
simply establish where he stands vis-à-vis the gods; whereas in Glaukos’
speech, and especially in his tale about Bellerophontes (155–205n.), the
gods remain in the background – powerful and incomprehensible. His
outlook sets the tone for what follows.
Faced with the imminent fall of their city, the Trojans seek the protection
of Athena – but do not see that she rejects their entreaties: that knowledge is
reserved for the audience alone. The seer Helenos tells Hector that the
women of Troy should pray to Athena, offer her a robe, promise a sacrifice
and ask her ‘to take pity on the wives of the Trojans, and their little
children’ (94–5n.). Hector repeats those instructions to Hecuba (269–78n.),
and the women put them into practice – in their own way (286–311n.). And
then the poet reveals, in a single line, that the ritual fails: no explanation is
offered; the goddess simply lifts her head in denial (311n.). The line fits the
portrayal of the gods in the rest of the poem. The Iliadic gods show little
concern for human communities; they do not take pity on women or little
children. In fact, they seem mostly concerned with individual men. Thetis
cares only about her son Achilles: she wants the other Achaeans to perish,
so that he may receive his due honours. Hera is determined to destroy the
entire city of Troy (presumably because Paris offended her by judging
Aphrodite more beautiful).79 Hera is in fact so keen to see Troy fall that she
casually tells Zeus he is welcome to destroy her own favourite cities –
Argos, Sparta and Mycenae – whenever he likes: ‘let us grant these things
to each other, I to you, and you to me, and the other gods will follow’
(4.62–3). The other gods do indeed share Hera's careless attitude towards
human cities: the Trojans worship Athena, they call her ‘protector of cities’
(ἐρυσίπτολι: 305n.), they have a temple dedicated to her on their acropolis
and, at the end of the war, famously drag the Trojan horse into the city, as
an offering to her.80 And yet Athena does not care for Troy: Paris offended
her too, and so she hates the entire city. She changes her attitude only after
the fall of Troy, when Ajax desecrates her statue and rapes Cassandra. After
that, she exacts her revenge on the Achaeans, because a single man
offended her. Many poems in the Trojan cycle explored Athena's complex
attitude towards Trojans and Achaeans.81 The failed ritual in Iliad 6, as so
many other aspects of the book, invited early audiences to reflect on the
poems, legends and images that depicted the fall of Troy.
The relationship between Athena and Troy remained a prominent issue in
the classical period: according to Herodotus, Xerxes presented himself to
the Greeks as the avenger of Priam and the champion of Trojan Athena.82
The failure of the ritual in book 6 must have seemed particularly interesting,
and alarming, to audiences at the Panathenaea. We have already seen that
recitations of the Homeric poems featured prominently at that festival. The
most important event, however, was a ritual procession, which culminated
in the offering of a garment to the goddess Athena. The parallels between
the Panathenaea and the ritual in Iliad 6 are so striking that Lorimer
considered the entire episode an Athenian interpolation.83 It is ultimately
impossible to establish the origins of our text; but it remains important to
ask how the Athenians experienced the similarities between their own ritual
and that depicted in Iliad 6. It must have been striking to hear about
Athena's rejection of the Trojan robe, at a festival where the Athenians
themselves presented the goddess with one. There were, however, some
crucial differences between the Trojan and the Athenian offering. In the
Iliad Helenos asks Hecuba to select ‘the most graceful and largest robe, the
one dearest to her’ (90n., 91n.). Her choice is disastrous: she picks a
garment woven by Sidonian women who were abducted by Paris on his
way home, after he had already taken Helen (288–95n.). In early epic the
history of an object generally determines its significance,84 and the history
of this particular garment was unlikely to please Athena: it evoked the rape
of Helen, and hence the judgement of Paris. The history of an object was
also important in actual cultic practice: the Athenians closely monitored the
design and production of the robe they offered to Athena. Rather than
leaving such matters to individual choice, they publicly appointed weavers
and helpers.85 A comparison with Panathenaic practices suggests that Troy,
in contrast to Athens, is at the mercy of individual whims, preferences and
allegiances. We have already seen that the Iliadic gods care more about
individual men than about cities and communities – but the problem is not
limited to the gods. Hecuba's choice of garment reveals that she is too close
to Paris: she cherishes his gifts and is therefore implicated in his actions.
Even when she tries to act on behalf of the city, she remains first and
foremost Paris’ mother.

3.2 Men and women

As the Achaeans break through the lines, and the Trojans flee in disarray,
the narrative shifts from the battlefield to the city, and to the women who
live in it. Agamemnon reminds his brother of what happened in his home
when Paris raped Helen and urges him to fight on relentlessly, until he
exacts his revenge: all the Trojans must die, even babies still in their
mothers’ wombs (55–60n.). The speech is an extreme version of a thought
that Nestor has already expressed: at 2.354–6 he told the Achaeans that
nobody should set sail for home ‘until he has lain in bed with the wife of a
Trojan, to avenge Helen…’ (cf. also 3.301, where rape is again considered
an aspect of war). It is quite clear what the fall of the city entails for the
women of Troy and, at 73–4n., the Achaeans are poised for victory. It is at
this point that Helenos tells Hector and Aeneas to rally the troops ‘before
they fall into the hands of the women and become a source of joy for the
enemy’ (81–2n.). The Achaeans are eager to enter, rape and murder – and,
precisely for that reason, the Trojans must not withdraw into the arms of
their own wives. Helenos insists that, in this moment of extreme danger, the
men and women of Troy must keep to their separate tasks: the men must
continue fighting, while the women should pray and make an offering to
Athena. The problem is that Helenos needs to communicate his plan to the
women: for this difficult task he chooses Hector, who alone must enter the
city and talk to the women – without falling into their hands.
At the Scaean Gates he is surrounded by the wives and daughters of the
Trojans, who anxiously ask him about their relatives. Family concerns
threaten to take over, but Hector does not linger on individual
circumstances and delivers the same message to each woman: they should
all pray (237–241n.). Here, as elsewhere, Hector tries to reinforce
cohesiveness and a sense of community, refusing to yield to individual
concerns. The poet, however, emphasises the different personal
circumstances of the women: he reveals that many are already bereaved,
even though they are unaware of it: 241n. There are good reasons why
Hector fails to give specific information about those who have fallen in
battle: he may not know all the details, and in any case the news would be
divisive – some women would feel relieved, while others would abandon
themselves to despair and mourning. And yet Hector will eventually have to
face the individual concerns of his own womenfolk: his mother, his sister-
in-law and his wife will all confront him with their needs.
Under the strain of war it is difficult and dangerous for men and women
to meet: despite Hector's encounters, Iliad 6 largely depicts ‘a divided
world’.86 The poet conveys the impression that the women move and meet
inside the city according to their plans and routines, and that Hector's arrival
interrupts and startles them. He meets Hecuba in front of the palace, as she
returns from some errand together with her daughter Laodike; like Hector,
we do not know where she has been.87 There is a clear sense, in Iliad 6, that
the women's plans remain largely unknown to the men. Helenos, for
example, says that Hecuba should gather the old women of Troy, unlock the
temple of Athena, choose a robe for her and utter a prayer on behalf of the
community (86–98n.). In the event, however, the women of Troy divide
these tasks among themselves: Hecuba tells her maids to gather the old
women (286–7), while she selects the garment (288–95n.); it is then
Theano, in her official capacity as priestess of Athena, who opens the
temple (297–311n.), places the robe on Athena's knees and utters the prayer
(304–10). These discrepancies do not mean that Hecuba disobeys her son's
instructions; they simply show that Helenos and Hector have no direct
access to the world of the women: they tell their mother what needs to be
done, and she delegates as appropriate.
This sense of distance and separation between men and women reaches a
new intensity when Hector meets Andromache. He first looks for her at
home but does not find her. The housekeeper then tells him that she ran out
to the rampart ‘like a madwoman’, together with the nurse and the baby
(381–9n.). When Hector finally meets Andromache, she is extremely
distressed, but she is not deranged: the housekeeper must have seen
Andromache's grief at its rawest and most uncontrolled. When Andromache
returns home after talking to Hector, she again shows the extremity of her
pain to her maids: rather than supervising their work, as Hector had told her
to do, she rouses them to a full funeral lament (494–502n.). All this
suggests that Andromache gives full expression to her pain only in front of
other women. Eventually, Andromache will follow Hector's advice and
return to her normal household duties – weaving, spinning, and supervising
her maids (491–2n.). At 22.437–46, when she next appears, she is weaving
a robe and giving an order to her maids – that they should prepare a warm
bath for Hector. It is at that point that the poet calls her νηπίη, ‘poor
innocent’ (22.445), because then Hector is already dead. Andromache's
tempo does not match Hector’s: there is a disjunction between her
emotional responses and his death. The poet's comment, νηπίη, suggests
that Andromache is out of touch with Hector's situation; but it also exposes
the limitations of Hector's earlier advice to her.88 To continue at home, as
normal, while men see to the fighting, proves impossible because war
destroys everybody; it is ultimately not just ‘the concern of men’ (492).
It is above all through the perspectives of women that the poet exposes
the brutality of war. Never do women in the Iliad celebrate war.89
Andromache makes no moral distinction between killing and being killed –
and accuses Hector of being about to make her a widow: 432n. The one
exception is Helen, who ultimately commemorates her own powers in a
woven robe depicting the wars that Achaeans and Trojans underwent ‘for
her sake’ (3.128).90 She is also the only woman who taunts her husband,
Paris, and tells him to go back to the battlefield, if he dares (3.428–36; cf.
349–53n.). Her behaviour emphasises, by contrast, the attitudes of other
women. Andromache desperately tries to keep Hector safe, and close to her,
inside the city: she fights against Hector's determination to prove himself in
the first line of battle: ‘Your own strength will kill you’, are her first words
to him (407n.), and in her final appeal she tells him not to make her a
widow, or her son an orphan: those are the acts of an enemy (432n.). Her
attitude is similar to that of other women in the Iliad: in general, they focus
their attention on the man they love and try to influence his thoughts and
ideas; how his behaviour may be determined by other men is not something
they consider in any great detail. Hecuba, for example, assumes that Hector
retreated into the city on an impulse, in order to pray (256n.); but, in fact,
we know that he is carrying out Helenos’ instructions, has rallied the troops
before leaving and has informed the army of his mission (110–18n.). He is
not simply acting on a whim, as Hecuba suggests. The physical separation
between men and women affects the knowledge and outlook of Homeric
characters: men do not know exactly how women move and organise
themselves in the city; while women can only imagine, and try to affect,
how their own men behave.
That the feelings, values and priorities of men and women are different is
dramatised most eloquently in the encounter between Hector and
Andromache. Hector is torn between the competing demands of the other
men, who need him on the battlefield, and Andromache, who wants him to
stay inside. This kind of entanglement seems typically Trojan: Diomedes
too has a wife, as Dione reveals when she comforts Aphrodite (at 5.410–
15), but he never mentions her – and this is not just because she is far away,
since the Trojan ally Sarpedon does think about his wife and baby son back
in Lycia (5.479–81 and 684–8). The point, rather, is that women
compromise a man's valour and impair his ability to fight (81–2n.). Hector
finds it hard to resist Andromache's appeal for pity. It is only at the end of
the Iliad that the quest for glory, social responsibility, love and pity are
reconciled – but then the drama is played out entirely in the male domain,
and Achilles is the protagonist. As Arthur Katz points out, ‘Achilles’ love
for Patroclus brings him back to the battlefield, and ensures victory for the
Greeks […] And Achilles’ pity for Priam, who reminds him of his own
father, induces him to accept Priam's supplication and so to acknowledge
the common bond of humanity which unites all men.’91 Women, however,
are left crying at the end of the poem.92 Hector does imagine a future of
perfect harmony between men and women, when he utters a prayer on
behalf of his son (475–81n.): he imagines that, one day, Astyanax will
return from the battlefield carrying the spoils of the enemy, and that his
mother will ‘rejoice in her heart’ (481n.). The whole vision is unlikely,
doomed even. It implies that Hector and Andromache share the same
values, but Andromache never celebrates Hector as a warrior – to her, he is
‘father, mother, brother and tender husband’ (429–30n.). Even in her final
funeral lament, at 24.739–45, she makes a distinction between her own
perspective and that of the wider community: the people mourn Hector
because he was the strongest warrior, ‘but for me above all there will be
sharp pain, Hector, because you did not die in your own bed, stretching out
your hands to me, and telling me a wise word, that I could cherish
always…’ That was her preferred vision for the future.

3.3 The city of Troy

The plight of the Trojans is set against the backdrop of their city. Book 6,
more than any other, gives a vivid impression of the landmarks, buildings
and streets of Troy. Rather than offering a static image of the city, the poet
describes it by following Hector's progress through it. The overall
impression is of swift movement: images of the city pass quickly before
Hector's eyes, and our own. He enters through the Scaean Gates, near the
oak tree (237n.); then he presses on to the palace of Priam – an imposing
building, all made of polished stone (242–52n.); at the entrance to the
palace he meets Hecuba – and the narrative then follows her, as she enters
into the innermost chamber of the palace (288n.) and picks her favourite
robe (295n.). She then leads the women to the temple of Athena, on the
acropolis; Theano unlocks its doors and places Hecuba's robe on the knees
of a seated statue of Athena (297n.; 298n. with 88–9n.; and 303 with 92n.).
Also on the acropolis, in ominous proximity to the temple, is the palace of
Paris: built by the best workmen in Troy, it is beautiful and houses the most
beautiful couple (312–17n.). After visiting Paris and Helen in their own
bedroom, Hector hurries home, looking for Andromache (369–91n.). The
poet says very little about Hector's palace, a case of secondary focalisation:
to Hector, it is home, and therefore unremarkable. We see him looking for
Andromache inside, then stopping at the threshold, asking after her. He then
runs back to the Scaean Gates, retracing his steps through the ‘built-up
streets’ (391n.), of ‘the great city’ (392n.). Hector's overall trajectory is
configured as a linear journey in, and then out of the city. The innermost
point in that journey is Hector's own home.
Greek audiences of all times thought they knew where Troy was: Homer
gives it a precise location on the plain beneath Mount Ida, close to the rivers
Scamander and Simoeis, not far from the Hellespont and the islands of
Samothrace, Tenedos and Imbros. Heinrich Schliemann excavated an
impressive Bronze Age citadel precisely in this area, at Hisarlik in modern
Turkey.93 The relationship between the ongoing excavations at Hisarlik and
Homer's Troy is complex and much debated.94 One thing, however, seems
clear: imposing Bronze Age fortifications were still visible in the early first
millennium BCE. The site at Hisarlik continued to be inhabited, and Athena
was worshipped there in historical times.95 It seems, then, that the Trojan
saga found confirmation in the grand ruins of an early citadel; and that the
ruins, in turn, inspired stories and explanations. For those communities who
lived near the ruins or in any case had seen them, the fall of Troy was a
material reality. But for all audiences, the Iliad supplied a concrete image of
the city. Within the text, a sense of doom is palpable in the mention of
specific landmarks. Hector and Andromache meet at the Scaean Gates, and
the Iliad later reveals that Hector confronted Achilles outside the Gates
(22.5–6), and that Andromache stood near them, watching Achilles
disfigure her husband's corpse (22.462–4). Specific places contribute to the
sense of doom also by reference to a wider net of legends and stories. At
6.433–4, for example, Andromache mentions one part of the wall, ‘near the
fig tree’, which seems particularly vulnerable: according to a myth attested
in Pindar, one portion of the wall was built by human hands, rather than the
gods, and was therefore vulnerable to attack: 434n. Andromache's fear thus
finds confirmation in Pindar's poetry.
The very solidity of the city in Iliad 6 emphasises, by contrast, the
vulnerability of those who live in it. The palace of Priam boasts fifty
bedrooms for his sons and their wives, and twelve bedrooms for his
daughters and their husbands (242–52n., 244n., 248–50n.). It is a powerful
image of dynastic continuity, but in fact those couples will never live there
together again. In Iliad 6 the city is configured as a female space. We know
that there must be old men inside too, because they featured at 3.146–60,
and because Hector mentions them in his initial speech to the troops (see
113n.). After that, however, they remain out of sight. By focusing on the
women, the poet not only emphasises the trials of Hector – a man
surrounded by women who want to delay him – but also powerfully
foreshadows the fall of Troy. The city has fragrant storerooms, bedrooms
and lovely women with scented breasts (288n.: κηώεντα; cf. 482–3n.:
κηώδεϊ): it is a treasure, a prize for conquerors. Because the city is so starkly
female, Hector's final wish, at the end of book 6, seems especially
unrealistic. He imagines that one day the Achaeans will sail home, defeated
– and that the Trojan men will finally celebrate together, resolve all tensions
between them and set up a mixing bowl for freedom ‘in the halls’ (526–9n.)
– thus reclaiming civic space as their own.
The fall of Troy is evoked by the buildings, the landmarks and the people
in it. What remains unclear is exactly why Troy must fall. The poet and his
characters offer many explanations: the gods came to dislike Laomedon
(21.441–60); Paris presumed to judge on divine beauty (24.25–30) and
abused his position as Menelaos’ guest (3.351–4, 328–9n., 356n.); Helen
behaved badly (3.126–8, 164–5 and 173–5; 344–8n.); Pandaros broke the
truce (4.155–68, 7.348–53); the Trojans failed to disown Paris and return
Helen (7.345–79); Hector failed his people (22.99–110). But there were
also larger, more general causes at work in the background: the Iliad
suggests that the heroes were destined to die.96 They were much stronger
than ‘people nowadays’, but their social institutions were weaker. The fate
of Troy could not be disentangled from the affairs of the ruling family;
similarly, the Achaeans perished as a result of Achilles’ anger, and
Agamemnon's greed (1.1–7). The fall of Troy thus symbolises the death of
the heroes, and the end of an entire age (12.22–3 and 14.83–7). And
perhaps, it symbolises even more than that: for Achilles, the Trojan War
illustrates the general truth that human happiness cannot last (24.543–51).

4. Difficult Encounters
With the gods largely withdrawn from the action, the poet explores in detail
how human beings interact with one another – on the battlefield, and in the
city. Most of book 6 represents their difficult encounters, at a time of
extreme tension. When Hector sets off for Troy, the narrative initially
remains focused on the battlefield: Glaukos and Diomedes drive forward
between the two armies, determined to fight to the death. Their encounter
offers a searching exploration of conflicting loyalties on the battlefield. It is
memorable and surprising: an exchange of insults between enemies
becomes a hospitality scene; while an exchange of gifts between friends
turns out to be a source of humiliation for one of them. The placing of the
episode, between Hector's departure (117–18n.) and his arrival at Troy
(237), offers a starting-point for its interpretation: although some ancient
critics placed it elsewhere,97 it is best understood as a description of what
happens on the battlefield while Hector is away.98 The episode is
sufficiently long and elaborate to counterbalance the description of Hector's
actions in the second half of the book, and to suggest that nothing
momentous takes place while he is away. At the same time, it shows that
Glaukos is no substitute for Hector (cf. 119n.), and that Diomedes remains
dangerous: the Trojans need Athena to ‘break his spear’ more than ever
(306n.).
In comparison with the long and uneventful encounter between Glaukos
and Diomedes, Hector's mission in Troy is swift and to the point. Hector's
aims are set out clearly at the beginning of the book: his brother Helenos
instructs him to go into the city and tell Hecuba to organise an offering for
Athena (86–98n.). In the course of his visit Hector meets not only his
mother, but also Helen and Paris, and his wife and child. Each encounter is
carefully introduced, so as to show that Hector acts as a responsible soldier,
even while away from the battlefield. In the course of his conversation with
Hecuba, he announces his intention to go and retrieve Paris from his palace
and bring him back to the battlefield. His decision is not part of Helenos’
original plan but can hardly be faulted: it is – as Hector himself points out –
demoralising for the troops to fight on behalf of somebody who absents
himself from the battlefield (325–31n.). Later, in response to Helen's
seductive speech (343–58n.), Hector suddenly declares that he wants to go
and see his own wife (359–68n.). This is the only decision that he cannot
justify in military terms. And yet, again, it is hard to fault him for it: Hector
needs to wait for Paris, in order to ensure that he does indeed return to the
battlefield and, rather than spend time with Helen, he decides to go and see
his own wife and son – because, he adds in an alarming moment of insight,
this may be the last time they see him alive (367–8n.).
Throughout his mission in Troy, Hector is conscious that the men
desperately need him to return to the battlefield as soon as possible. He runs
towards Troy, with his shield slung behind him, ‘battering his neck and
shins’ (117–18n.). He quickly dismisses the women of Troy, telling them all
to pray (237–41n.); he then reaches the palace of Priam and refuses
Hecuba's offer of wine because, he claims, it would sap his strength (265n.).
Hecuba tries to delay him (ἀλλὰ μέν᾽: 258n.), but he moves swiftly on. He
enters Paris’ bedroom and finds his brother sitting idle (318–24n.). When
Paris asks him to wait or go ahead without him, he is left speechless (340–
1n., 342n.). When Helen invites him to ‘sit down’ next to her (354–6n.), he
says that the Trojan men on the battlefield are ‘longing’ for him (362n.) –
and then, while he waits for Paris, he goes swiftly home to see his own wife
(370n.: αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειτα). When he realises Andromache is not there, he
rushes back to the Gates (ἀπέσσυτο: 390n.), where she intercepts him
(393n.). There is only one moment, in the whole of book 6, when Hector
loses momentum. After his conversation with Andromache, she leaves
crying – ‘turning back again and again’ to look at him (496n.). It is
precisely at this moment that Paris appears in full armour, galloping like a
stallion towards the battlefield. As soon as he sees Hector, he takes the
opportunity to draw attention to his own speed – and this precisely at the
one moment when Hector is standing still, with his back to the battlefield
‘in the place where he had his sweet talk with his wife’ (515–16n.). Despite
Paris’ provoking words, Hector refuses to get drawn into an argument: any
differences, he claims, will be resolved after the war (520–9n.).
Hector's mission in Troy is configured as a set of three trials. First, he
must resist Hecuba's offer of wine; then there is the trial of seduction; and
finally he is confronted with Andromache's emotional appeal. The tension
increases steadily: each trial is harder and more drawn out. Some scholars
speak of a ‘scale of affection’ in the order of Hector's encounters,
corresponding to Andromache's description of her relationship with Hector:
‘you are to me father, mother, brother and tender husband’.99 There is,
however, no reason to think that Hector loves Paris or Helen more than
Hecuba; just as, in Andromache's speech, there is no indication that her
brothers are more important to her than her father or mother. The point of
this arrangement, rather, is that it traces the natural course of a human life:
as his visit unfolds, Hector is cast as a son, brother, husband and father. And
it is that last challenge – of being a good husband and father – that proves
most painful. Hector's different relationships offer precious insights into the
dynamics of ancient families. Ancient commentators observe, for example,
that Hecuba behaves like a typical mother,100 that Astyanax's reactions are
true to life101 and that Andromache is torn between her desire to obey
Hector and her love for him.102 When reading the difficult encounters of
Iliad 6, it is useful to follow the cues of ancient scholiasts and ask to what
extent we still recognise Homer's characters in our own experience.
Homeric poetry suggests that some aspects of human life, particularly
family life, are remarkably stable. A simile at 15.362–4, for example,
reveals that children have been busy making and destroying sandcastles at
the beach for almost three millennia. But even when the activities, values
and situations of Homer's characters are radically different from our own,
the careful way in which they are drawn brings them truly to life.

4.1 Glaukos and Diomedes

In terms of narrative structure, the episode needs to be substantial in length
and inconclusive in outcome: it suggests that nothing momentous happens
on the battlefield while Hector is away. The poet takes this as an
opportunity to explore, quizzically and unpredictably, some important
themes in Iliad 6, such as loyalty in marriage and in war, divine
inscrutability and human self-deception. He uses a wide range of different
narrative forms: exchanges of insults on the battlefield, hymns to the gods,
sayings, children's stories, genealogies, hospitality scenes. These different
elements combine to unexpected effect: the encounter between Glaukos and
Diomedes has puzzled ancient and modern readers alike, and it has attracted
comments and explanations through the ages – starting within the text itself.
The poet's own comment at the end of the episode casts an entirely new
light on it (232–6n.), and the exchange of gifts between Ajax and Hector at
7.277–312 works as an internal elaboration on the episode.
Diomedes, who has been on a rampage since book 5, is the first to speak.
His words are an example of battlefield ‘flyting’ (verbal assault): he
intimidates his opponent and boasts about his own prowess: 123–43n. To
these standard elements of flyting, he adds an altogether different
observation: if Glaukos is a god, he will not challenge him. The dangers of
fighting with the gods are illustrated by the story of Lycurgus, which takes
the shape of an inverted hymn: 130–40n. Diomedes seems to have learnt
from his own experiences in book 5 and now wants to draw a sharp line
between gods and mortals. He remains convinced, however, that he can
simply establish whether Glaukos is a man – and then proceed to kill him if
he is. Glaukos’ answer suggests that human affairs are not as
straightforward as Diomedes assumes: the gods are inscrutable.
In answer to Diomedes, Glaukos delivers one of the longest speeches in
the whole Iliad. Given the context, length is in itself a sign of weakness: the
closest parallel to Glaukos’ speech is Aeneas’ excessively long answer to
Achilles’ verbal attack at 20.199–258: that speech is followed by his
humiliating defeat.103 Flyting boasts are usually short preambles to actual
violence, but Glaukos’ speech does not open as a boast at all.104 He starts
with an image of arresting beauty: his identity is unimportant, he suggests,
because men constantly die and are born, like leaves on a tree: 146–9n.;
after that, he launches into a very long account of his family and identity:
150–211n. Taken as a whole, his speech is best seen as an answer, however
strange, to Diomedes’ opening challenge.105 Diomedes claimed he would
kill any human opponent (142–3); now Glaukos admits that he is mortal
and suggests that this is all that matters, since all mortals must die (146–
9n.). Diomedes told the story of Lycurgus, who offended the gods and was
punished for it (130–40n.); now Glaukos tells the story of his grandfather
Bellerophontes, who was rewarded by the gods after many trials, only to
meet with their displeasure in the end. Glaukos does not explain why
Bellerophontes became hateful to the gods: either he does not know it or
does not care to mention it (200–2n.), but the story of how Bellerophontes
tried to ascend to heaven must have been known to many ancient audiences.
Glaukos is similarly silent about crimes of his ancestor Sisyphos, who
challenged the gods by trying to overcome death (153n.). These omissions
contribute to the impression that Glaukos is young and inexperienced: he
seems to be repeating the stories he has been told by his elders (see also
185n. and 190n.). His account of his grandfather's life contains many
elements familiar from children's stories: Bellerophontes was persecuted by
a wicked queen, went into exile, overcame three impossible trials set by the
king of a distant land and finally married a princess and inherited half the
kingdom. These are the stories Glaukos understands and relates at length;
on the causes of his grandfather's downfall he says nothing at all: 155–205n.
Glaukos’ genealogical history reaches a high point with Bellerophontes’
exploits and the birth of Sarpedon (191n., 198–9n.); after that, the family
experiences a sharp decline. Glaukos is acutely aware that his unremarkable
father expects great things of him (206–11n.) but he will ultimately fail to
make him proud: the poet suggests that this encounter ends in humiliation
(232–6n.). Later in the Iliad Glaukos again appears eager, but unable, to
prove himself to his own satisfaction and that of others. At 12.310–28
Sarpedon addresses him with a famous speech about valour in the face of
death. Glaukos dutifully helps to lead the ensuing attack, but already at
12.387–91 he is wounded by an arrow and hides away, afraid that the
Achaeans might taunt him and gloat. At 16.490–501 Sarpedon, who is
about to die, calls on Glaukos to rescue his armour and threatens him with
eternal shame should he fail to do so. Still wounded by Teucer's arrow,
Glaukos is unable to help (16.508–12) and, even after Apollo heals him,
cannot prevent Sarpedon from being stripped of his armour (16.663–5). It
seems clear that Glaukos cannot measure up to Diomedes; but his speech
offers a perspective on human life that early audiences of the Iliad are likely
to have recognised as close to their own: the past seems more glamorous
than the present; the gods are inscrutable; and human fortunes
unpredictable.106
In his reply Diomedes considers none of these general truths: he is
inexplicably delighted with Glaukos’ speech. He soon explains that their
families share an ancient bond of hospitality and proposes that they should
avoid one another in battle (224–9n.) and exchange armour (230–1n.).
Though energetic and apparently straightforward, Diomedes’ speech makes
a controversial suggestion and offers a genealogical account that is as
selective as Glaukos’ own account of his family. Diomedes claims he
cannot remember his father, a comment that the scholia criticise as
inappropriate, ‘out of place’ (222–3n.). Whether or not Diomedes has any
direct memory of his father,107 other characters in the Iliad keep reminding
him about Tydeus and telling him to be like him (see especially Athena's
words at 5.800–13) – and the audience know what that means: in the Iliad
Tydeus is remembered as a savage warrior. He marched against Thebes
disregarding the will of the gods and thus played a leading role in one the
greatest disasters described in the poem: 4.370–400, and 4.404–10.
Diomedes wavers between emulating his father when he is on the attack
(5.115–17, 10.283–94; cf. 5.252–6), and rejecting him as a model when he
chooses to be less extreme, as here.
At the end of Diomedes’ speech the two enemies leap off their chariots,
shake hands and make pledges – and then the poet remarks that ‘Zeus must
have robbed Glaukos of his wits’, because he exchanged his golden armour
for one of bronze: 232–6n. This is a shocking comment, which exposes as
naïve not only Glaukos’ actions, but also our own interpretation of the
encounter up to this moment. What seemed to be a touching example of
friendship across battle lines is now presented as an unequal exchange. In
an important essay of 1795–6, Schiller argued that the conclusion of the
episode was characteristically Homeric: he praised the ‘matter-of-fact
truthfulness’ (trockene Wahrhaftigkeit) of Homer and contrasted it with the
sentimentality of Ariosto.108 Homer's final comment struck ancient
audiences too: ‘bronze for gold’ became proverbial in ancient Greece (Pl.
Symp. 219a), and the passage gave rise to many different interpretations.
Surviving ancient responses can be divided into three groups. Some focus
on the unequal outcome of the exchange: the scholia T ad 6.234b1, for
example, suggest that Homer was trying to please a Greek audience. Others
attempt to justify Glaukos’ behaviour: ΣbT ad 6.234a claim that he was
trying to emulate Bellerophontes’ generosity; cf. Eustathius IV, p. 83: 14–
17 and IV, p. 182: 24–6 van der Valk. Aristotle rejects that view and argues
that Glaukos should not be blamed because he gave away something too
valuable, but because he gave away something he needed: warriors should
not relinquish their armour.109 A third group of comments focuses on
Diomedes’ actions: ΣbT ad 6.230 insist that he was not greedy; ΣbT ad
6.235a2 question the wisdom of stripping and contemplate the possibility
that Diomedes was as foolish as Glaukos (πῶς οὐ Διομήδης ϕρένων
λείπεται).110
Modern readers echo the concerns of ancient ones.111 Some insist that
Glaukos is the loser; Martin 1989: 127–30 argues that Diomedes intimidates
Glaukos and manipulates him into a humiliating defeat. Others try to justify
his actions: Donlan 1989b draws on the anthropology of gift exchange to
suggest that Glaukos tries – but fails – to compensate for a perceived status
imbalance. Others still suggest that Diomedes is the real fool of the
situation: Scodel 1992b argues that he is misguided about the human
condition and the role of the gods, and that he will be taught a lesson at
8.130–71. The conclusion of the episode allows no doubt on one point:
Glaukos suffers a symbolic defeat, cf. 230–1n. Beyond this, the poet leaves
us with many difficult questions as we return to Troy and follow Hector's
purposeful and swift journey into the city. Some of those questions are then
taken up in book 7.
At 7.273–82 the Trojan and the Achaean herald interrupt a particularly
fierce single combat between Ajax and Hector, because night is falling and
it is time to stop fighting. Ajax declares that he is willing to postpone the
duel, if Hector is too – and Hector readily settles for a temporary truce:
‘You will make all the Achaeans rejoice by the ships, and especially your
friends and relatives; and I will please the Trojan men, and the Trojan
women of the trailing robes, in the great city of king Priam’: 7.294–7. As
ever, Hector thinks first of the benefits of the arrangement for his own
community. He then proposes an exchange of gifts: ‘So that an Achaean or
a Trojan may say about us: “They fought in the soul-devouring battle but
then joined together in friendship, before they separated”’: 7.300–2. Hector
offers a sword and scabbard, and he receives a purple belt: the exchange
does not involve stripping.112 This episode throws into relief the more
problematic aspects of the encounter between Glaukos and Diomedes.113
Those two warriors do not interrupt their confrontation at the request of
others: they simply decide to avoid each other in battle, in the name of a
private bond of hospitality. Indeed, Diomedes goes as far as observing that
there are plenty of other Trojans he can kill and declares that Glaukos is
welcome to kill other Achaeans too, if he can: the two thus trade off the
lives of their own comrades in a perverse form of gift exchange between
guest-friends: 224–9n. As elsewhere in the Iliad, personal bonds and
interests are pitted against loyalty to one's own wider community – and, as
often, personal considerations prove to be stronger.

4.2 Hector and Hecuba

When Hector enters the city, he is confronted with the interests and
priorities of the women closest to him. Their needs are pitted against his
wider responsibilities: he needs to defend the city and hence return to the
battlefield as soon as possible. Hecuba is the first woman who tries to hold
him back. She meets him in front of the royal palace, a building that, as we
have seen, provides a poignant backdrop for their encounter: it speaks of
generational continuity, lasting protection and ordered family life – but it
also reminds us that Troy will fall, and sons will die before their mothers:
242–52n. She arrives at the palace together with her prettiest daughter,
Laodike, and is startled to see Hector: her first words express her surprise,
as she tries to work out what he might be doing there. She guesses,
correctly, that he is reacting to an emergency, but she wrongly assumes that
he left the battlefield on an impulse (θυμός: 256n.), because he wanted to
pray. Without waiting for an explanation from him, she goes on to make
plans: he should wait while she goes inside the palace to get some wine for
a libation – and then he should drink himself, because wine restores the
strength of a tired man. The scholia bT ad 6.260c observe that she behaves
like a typical mother: ‘because mothers always expect children to eat and
drink’. There are other aspects of her speech that contribute to her
characterisation: she uses emotive and sometimes strong language (254n.:
τέκνον; 255n.: δυσώνυμοι…Ἀχαιῶν), and concludes her speech with a
proverb: 261n. She makes assumptions about Hector, worries about him and
wants to keep him close to her. Unlike Andromache, she does not admit to
her own needs and fears. Most of her speech is taken up by second-guessing
her son: although, as we have seen, she fails to comprehend the discipline
and organisation required of men on the battlefield, her views are in other
ways very perceptive. Hector is not planning to pray to Zeus, but Hecuba
ultimately turns out to be right: when confronted with the uncertain future
of his own son, Hector will indeed stop and pray (475–81n.).
Hector is firm, but polite, in refusing his mother's offer: wine, he claims,
would only weaken him, and a libation is inappropriate, because his hands
are stained with blood (264–8n.). Here, and indeed repeatedly in the course
of book 6, we are reminded that Hector looks wrong against the peaceful
backdrop of the city. After his polite refusal, Hector goes on to relate
Helenos’ instructions precisely (269–78n.). And then, all of a sudden, he
bursts out in a vitriolic and frustrated complaint about Paris – wishing death
on his own brother (280–5n.). This is the only time in the entire Iliad when
we witness Hector's exasperation and pent-up suffering, as well as his sheer
exhaustion. As Edwards remarks, it can be no coincidence that he discloses
those feelings to his mother.114 And yet Hecuba cannot take his side
entirely: Paris is her son too. For those audiences who knew the myth
staged in Euripides’ Alexander, Hector's outburst will have seemed
especially pointed.115 But whether or not early audiences knew the myth is
perhaps not the point, since it ultimately expresses a more general truth: that
mothers love their children regardless of what they do, and that Hecuba
cannot therefore forsake Paris.116 Indeed, Hector is equally unable to
distance himself entirely from his brother – as his next encounter amply
demonstrates.

4.3 Hector, Paris and Helen

The narrative now picks up a thread abandoned in book 3: Paris has been in
his bedroom ever since Aphrodite saved him from sure death on the
battlefield, wrapped him up in mist and deposited him there at 3.382. The
goddess then forced Helen to join him, and she sat down opposite him,
averting her eyes, and venting her frustration in a mocking speech against
her Trojan husband (3.428–36). Paris minimised the significance of his
defeat: ‘This time Menelaos won with Athena, another time I will defeat
him – there are gods on our side too’ (3.439–40). But the divine powers that
support him are no good on the battlefield. The influence of Aphrodite is
evident in what he next says to Helen: ‘Never has desire so engulfed my
senses, not when I first took you from lovely Lakedaimon, and sailed off in
seafaring ships and lay with you in love-making on the island of Kranaë,
not even then did I love you as I do now, or sweet desire seize me’ (3.442–
6). After that, they make love – while the war rages outside.
When Hector enters their bedroom, the poet draws attention to his spear
and describes how he finds Paris handling his own weapons: the shield,
armour and curved bow. Helen is nearby, supervising the weaving of
famously beautiful robes (318–24n.).117 There is an obvious contrast
between Hector's menacing spear and Paris’ own weapons – which are
beautiful, but idle. The weapons comment on the virility of the two
brothers, particularly in the charged context of their meeting in a bedroom,
in front of Helen. Paris damaged his spear in his encounter with Menelaos
(3.346–9), and now he is handling a bow, which becomes his weapon of
choice in the rest of the Iliad – despite its negative connotations: 321–2n.
This is the only time, in book 6, when we see Hector enter a θάλαμος, the
most private room in the house: when he looks for Andromache, the poet
uses the more neutral expression ἐν μεγάροισιν (371n.). His martial
appearance is in sharp contrast with his surroundings and, as we have seen,
foreshadows the future violation of Trojan homes. Hector's menacing
entrance is, however, followed by a surprisingly restrained speech. Some
ancient readers speculated that Hector did not want to humiliate Paris in
front of Helen: ΣbT ad 6.326b.118 More generally, it seems that Hector is
afraid he may not manage to get Paris back to the battlefield if he exerts too
much pressure.119 When they were still on the battlefield, Hector was
capable of much harsher words (cf. 3.39–57), and it is clear that he feels
equally strongly now (cf. 280–5n.); but the situation has become so
anomalous that it requires a more delicate approach. Hector starts by
suggesting that Paris might have left the battlefield out of anger; it is not at
all clear why Paris should feel any anger, but it is the only acceptable reason
for a hero not to fight: 326n. Hector goes on to suggest that Paris surely
agrees with him and would say the same things to any remiss soldier: this is
another conciliatory move, which casts Paris in the role of a fighter (328–
9n. and 330n.). Finally, Hector points out the real danger they are all facing:
if Troy falls, everything will burn – one implication being that even Paris’
bedroom, which now seems so sheltered and inviting, is in fact vulnerable
to attack: 331n. (πυρὸς δηΐοιο).
Paris’ reply is an embarrassment: 332–41n. He starts by judging Hector's
reproach appropriate, rather than excessive (333n.), and continues by
correcting Hector: he did not withdraw from the battlefield out of anger, but
because he abandoned himself to grief: 335n., 336n. This explanation does
not tally with what we already know: Aphrodite removed him from the
battlefield, and he was overcome by desire for Helen. And yet, Paris’ own
account is psychologically convincing: although he slept with Helen
(indeed, perhaps because of it), he is now feeling despondent. The situation
demands that he fight in the first line of battle, not that he withdraw into the
bedroom – and he knows that. Much has been made of ‘double motivation’
in the Iliad: there are human explanations for actions, and divine causes.120
There is what Paris says about himself, and what the poet reveals about
Aphrodite. Rather than dismissing double motivation as an archaic pattern
of thought, it is important to bear in mind how difficult it is – at times – to
account for human actions. Alternative explanations, then as now, are a sign
that situations are complicated, and hard to understand. Paris’ behaviour is
so bad that it attracts different explanations: Hector tactfully suggests anger,
Paris himself speaks of grief, and the poet reveals that Aphrodite was
involved. Paris does not linger on the most embarrassing details of his
situation, but he does reveal some humiliating information – not just about
his state of mind, but more specifically about his marriage. He claims that
Helen was encouraging him to return to the battlefield ‘with soft words’
(337n.). We know that her words at 3.428–36 were far from soft, and she
goes on to criticise Paris in the harshest possible way, in front of Hector:
352n., 353n. But even leaving aside her tone, it is bad enough that Helen is
trying to persuade Paris to return to the battlefield: her attitude is in sharp
contrast with that of Andromache – who is desperate with anxiety that
Hector might be killed and wants to keep him in the city at all costs.121
Paris’ speech leaves Hector at a loss for words: 342n.122 And it is at this
point that Helen intervenes, filling one of the heaviest silences in the whole
poem. Her speech is a lesson in the arts of seduction.123 She starts by
blaming herself and drawing attention to her own terrible plight, then she
flatters Hector at the expense of her own husband and finally she imagines a
future for herself, Paris and – implicitly – Hector, as subjects of poetry. The
context of her speech is particularly charged, because of the dynamics of
ancient families: Hesiod's discussion of adultery includes a specific warning
against sleeping with the wife of a brother (Op. 327–9), and this makes
sense, since men would have had more intimate contact with their sisters-
in-law than with most other women, excepting slaves and blood relatives.
We have already seen that some ancient readers thought that Hector was
inhibited by Helen's presence in the room. Helen now weaves her speech
around a central request that Hector come and sit next to her (354–6n.): she
is the only woman in book 6 who stays at a distance and expects Hector to
approach her; all the other women he encounters run or walk towards
him.124 This is, in itself, a seductive ploy. Helen starts by wishing she had
died in infancy (344–8n.) then suddenly strikes a realistic note: since the
gods decreed that she had to be abducted, she just wishes she had a better
husband in Troy – somebody with a sense of shame and proper behaviour
(349–53n.).125 She then criticises Paris in the harshest terms and predicts
that he will have his comeuppance. Echoing Hector's own view that Paris
was solely responsible for the war (328–9n.), she now casts herself in the
role of the victim. This is not how ancient audiences saw her, of course:
although Gorgias argued for Helen's innocence (in a deliberately
provocative speech), she was generally held to be at least partly responsible
for the war.126 And it has to be said that her behaviour in Iliad 6 gives some
support to ancient perceptions: her seductive stance towards Hector
undermines her protestations of innocence. She is the only woman in early
Greek epic who explicitly wishes for a better husband, and she has already
had two. By the end of her speech, Helen has effectively set up a new
triangle: she, Paris and Hector are inextricably bound together: she and
Paris will be the subject of future song, but that is also a promise held out to
Hector (cf. 358n.: πελώμεθ᾽ ἀοίδιμοι). Helen shares, to an extent, the poet's
perspective here, and the poet's own portrayal of Helen in the Iliad is not
unsympathetic. Yet he does show, in only fifteen lines of poetry, how Helen
cannot help but be seductive, and he offers us a glimpse of how things
might have gone when she first welcomed Paris to come in and sit down
near her, in Sparta. Hector is polite but firm in declining her offer: ‘Do not
make me sit down, Helen, loving as you are’ (ϕιλέουσά περ: 360n.). He ‘is
careful not to offend her’, as the ancient commentators, ΣbT ad 6.360a,
point out. It is in response to Helen's invitation that Hector first mentions
his intention to go and see his own wife, Andromache: 367–8n.

4.4 Hector and Andromache

When Hector reaches his house, he does not find his wife there: 369–91n.
This detail casts Hector, for the first time, in the role of the pursuer – and
delays the encounter between husband and wife. The poet introduces
Andromache not by describing her directly, but by dramatising how others
perceive her. Hector can think of two explanations for her absence: that she
is visiting her sisters-in-law, or that she joined the women who are praying
at the temple (374–80n.). As the scholia bT ad 6.378b point out, ‘he gives
reasons for which modest women (τὰς σώϕρονας) may leave the house’ –
but we know that he is wrong in his assumptions, because the poet already
said that Andromache went to the rampart (372–3n.). Now the housekeeper
has the difficult task of telling Hector that his wife ran out to the city wall in
a frenzy (381–9n.). The role of the housekeeper is important, in this scene.
She looks after Andromache and depends on her: her perspective, both
sympathetic and alarmed, adds to the narrative tension and prepares for the
later exploration of Andromache's own feelings of dependence, fear and
love.127 There is a stark contrast between Hector's wishful thinking and
Andromache's desperate plight, as witnessed by her servant. This contrast
reinforces the impression that men and women inhabit separate spheres, and
it adds to the sense of foreboding which pervades the book: the war, Hector
is now forced to realise, is already disrupting domestic life.
Hector is about to leave the city through the Scaean Gates when
Andromache sees him (393n.). As she runs towards him, the poet
introduces her formally, through a short ‘catalogue’ entry outlining her
origins, family and marriage (395–8n.); this background information further
delays the moment of encounter – the audience can imagine Andromache
running down from the rampart, as they hear about her origins and realise
that she and Hector had a wedding, share a past and were once
unremarkable in their happiness.128 And then, suddenly, she is in front of
him: ἤντησ᾽ (399n.). This is not an easy confrontation: it happens at the last
possible moment,129 and in a transitional place, at the Scaean Gates,
halfway between home and the battlefield.130 Neither partner speaks
immediately: Hector is taken by the presence of his baby son and smiles at
him in silence: 404n. Andromache takes her cue from Hector's smile (his
only one in the poem), and she starts her appeal by telling him that he has
no pity for his son, or for her. She then describes his death with prophetic
clarity (410n.) and wishes she could die when he does. There will be no
warmth or comfort for her when he is gone (θαλπωρή: 412n.), but only
pain: ἀλλ᾽ ἄχε᾽ at 413n. is as close as Homeric diction ever gets to an
anguished scream. Andromache then explains that Achilles killed her father,
destroyed her city, slaughtered her seven brothers and enslaved her mother.
And then she adds an interesting detail: Achilles released her mother for
ransom, and she died in the palace of her own father: 425–8n. It is the fate
of Andromache's mother that highlights, by contrast, Andromache's total
dependence on Hector: she has no family that could come to her rescue or
pay for her release. When she claims that Hector is a father, mother, brother
and tender husband to her, this is not a sentimental line of poetry (as in
Catullus 72.3–4), or a piece of aggrandising rhetoric (as in several Near
Eastern texts, cf. 429–30n.): it is the truth.
In the final part of her speech Andromache suddenly strikes a pragmatic
note: Hector should place the troops in front of the wall, near the fig tree,
where it is most vulnerable (433–9). She justifies her suggestion with an
empirical observation: the Achaeans have already tried to scale the wall in
that place three times (435n.) and may be acting on the advice of a seer
(438–9n.). Ancient and modern readers have found Andromache's
suggestions extraordinary, and many have objected to them. ΣA ad 6.433–9
report that the lines were athetised in antiquity, on the grounds that
Andromache gives alternative military advice to Hector (ἀντιστρατηγεῖ…
τῶι Ἕκτορι), and that the lines contain a ‘lie’, since the battle is not that
close to the walls (though cf. 73–4n.). Some modern scholars likewise find
lines 433–9 suspect: Lohmann 1988: 37–8 argues that they upset the
carefully balanced structure of the speech and introduce an unseemly topic,
since, in his view, Andromache's address ought to focus on family matters
alone. It is true that her final suggestion is, from a military point of view,
problematic (433n.), and that it upsets the balanced structure of her speech,
but the extremity of her situation has – according to her housekeeper –
unbalanced Andromache (389n.), so there is no reason to expect a measured
ending to her appeal. As an ancient commentator remarks, the end of her
speech defies conventional expectations about the behaviour of women but
‘fits Andromache’.131 She wants to keep Hector close to her, tries to capture
his attention and delay his departure by discussing strategy – a topic that
should interest him. As Pope observed in the notes to his translation, ‘we
shall not think that she talks like a soldier, but like a woman, who naturally
enough makes use of any incident that offers, to persuade her lover to what
she desires’.132
Hector refuses to be drawn into a detailed discussion of military matters,
or to view the battlefield from the rampart. He opens his speech with some
statements of principle, which summarise what has often been called ‘the
heroic code’:133 he would feel shame before the men and women of Troy if
he stayed away from the battlefield; he has learnt always to fight in the first
line of battle; and he wants to win κλέος for his father and for himself: 441–
6n. This last thought leads Hector to face the future with unflinching clarity:
he knows in his heart that Troy will fall, and Priam and his people perish –
it is precisely for this reason that he must fight in the first line of battle,
rather than look for alternative courses of action as Andromache suggests
(447–9n.). In book 22, moments before dying, he will again reflect on the
need to give his best, not for the people of Troy, but for all those who will
hear of his deeds in the future: 22.300–5. For now, however, his speech
focuses – more painfully – on the future of his immediate family: in the
third, longest, and most anguished part of his speech (450–65), he considers
the fate of his parents, his brothers, and that of Andromache, the person he
loves above all others. Hector imagines her as a slave, carrying water, and
weaving. The one task he does not mention explicitly is forced sex with the
enemy. Instead, he quotes the words of a passer-by, who will one day
recognise Andromache as the former wife of Hector, best warrior among
the Trojans: 454–63n. That, he knows, will only be the source of fresh
suffering for her: 462n., 463n. And this is when Hector finally breaks down:
he would rather be dead, he says, than hear Andromache scream as she is
dragged away into slavery (464–5n.). These final lines confirm
Andromache's view that Hector is on a death mission (407n.); but they also
resonate with her own death wish at 410–11n., and more generally with the
tone of her speech, which was close to that of a funeral lament (405–39n.).
Andromache performed a lament in front of her living husband, and now
Hector says he had rather be dead than witness her suffering. In many
respects, Hector's reply corresponds to Andromache's appeal: both partners
have lost, or are about to lose, their closest family; both love and care for
each other, above all other people; and both contemplate the imminent fall
of Troy, Hector's death and Andromache's terrible future. Husband and wife
are ‘born to the same fate’, as Andromache claims at 22.477–80. And yet
their speeches also highlight contrasting perspectives and priorities:
Andromache starts with a desperate plea but ends with practical suggestions
aimed at protecting Hector and the city walls. Hector, by contrast, starts
with a measured statement of principle, but, in the end, sees death as his
escape route. His final words are, ultimately, an admission of defeat. Hector
can hardly face Andromache at this point, and he turns his attention to baby
Astyanax, as he had done at the beginning of their encounter (466–81n.). It
is the baby's frightened reaction at the sight of his helmet that finally brings
Hector and Andromache together: they both laugh out loud (471n.). As Σb
ad 6.471 point out, in times of hardship even the smallest incident can cause
laughter.134 And it is again the scholia who observe, about the role of
Astyanax: ‘Making babies binds men and women together’ (ΣbT ad 6.404b:
σύνδεσμος γὰρ ἀνδρῶν καὶ γυναικῶν ἡ παιδοποιΐα).
 Hector seizes this moment of harmony, lifts up his baby and utters a
prayer on his behalf. As we have seen, he hopes for a future of shared
values: Astyanax will, one day, bring home the spoils of the enemy, and
Andromache will rejoice at the sight. This is an impossible vision, not just
because Troy will fall and Astyanax will be killed in infancy – but because
we never see Andromache take pleasure in war. When, at the end of his
prayer, Hector entrusts Astyanax into her arms, ‘she laughs in tears’, and
Hector feels pity for her (484n.). When he tells her to go home, while he
sees to the war, her response is equally ambiguous: she obeys, but she turns
back again and again to look at him (496n.). Once home, she mourns him as
if he was already dead. Hector's speech clearly failed to reassure her, and
his words about shame, duty and glory had no impact on her own views:
when he dies, she repeats her initial judgement – that he was killed by his
own strength (22.455–9). Hector himself remains committed to his own
position: when confronted with Achilles, he reminds himself that he must
not chat to him like a girl to a boy (22.127–8).135 There is no resolution, no
common perspective. At the end of this most loving encounter, there is
simply a parting.136

5. The Encounter between Hector and

Andromache Through Time
One of the most rewarding aspects of reading the Iliad is that one joins a
vast community of other committed readers. For more than 2,500 years,
people have studied this poem, tried to explain it and brought to bear on its
interpretation all their intelligence, knowledge, experience and creativity.
The comments of ancient scholars, which survive in much abbreviated form
in the margins of medieval manuscripts (scholia), have already featured
prominently; but they are not the only useful resources for commentators
and readers of Iliad 6.137 It is not possible, in the short compass of this
commentary, to examine the immensely rich and varied responses which the
Iliad inspired, and yet it is useful to have some awareness of its reception
history – for a simple reason. By considering how other readers approached
Iliad 6, we can begin to explore some important continuities and changes in
the history of its interpretation – and, more importantly still, we can
position ourselves, as readers, in relation to those who read the poem in
radically different historical and cultural circumstances. In what follows we
outline some important stages in the reception of the encounter between
Hector and Andromache. We focus on this episode because it seems to be
the most memorable and important in Iliad 6. This judgement does not just
reflect modern sensibilities: we know, for example, that Stephanos the
Grammarian (who must have been active in the late antique or early
Byzantine period) shared that view. He wrote a poem, preserved in the
Palatine Anthology and in many Homeric manuscripts, which summarised
the contents of the Iliad book by book. About Iliad 6 he stated:

Ζῆτα δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ Ἀνδρομάχης καὶ Ἕκτορός ἐστ᾽ ὀαριστύς.

Book 6 is the love talk between Andromache and Hector.138

For Stephanos, as for modern readers, the encounter between Hector and
Andromache is the most important episode in book 6 – even if the word he
uses to describe it, ὀαριστύς, is, in some ways, surprising. Hector and
Andromache are not just engaged in ‘love talk’: they speak about their
deepest needs, fears and convictions. And yet Stephanos is not wrong or
casual in his summary: he is actually paraphrasing the poet's own
description of the encounter at the end of the book, when Hector and Paris
are about to return to the battlefield (ὀάριζε: 516–17n.). There are at least
three lessons to be learnt here. First, the reception of the episode starts
within the Iliad itself: there is no neutral terrain ‘before reception’ that we
may ever hope to recover. Secondly, reception is contested from the
beginning. Finally, a confrontation with Stephanos helps to shed light on a
simple truth about the episode, and about the Iliad more generally: from the
perspective of men engaged in killing one another on the battlefield, any
conversation with a loving wife – however difficult – is a sweet alternative.
Surviving evidence suggests that the encounter between Hector and
Andromache made little impact on archaic and classical art and literature,
with one exception: Athenian drama. Vases do not display much interest in
the episode,139 and, although Sappho does celebrate the wedding of Hector
and Andromache in fr. 44 Voigt, the relationship between her poem and
Iliad 6 is hard to characterise – as is, more generally, the relationship
between early lyric and Homeric epic.140 Sappho depicts the joyful first
encounter between Hector and Andromache, and that is appropriate to her
genre: as Griffith points out, ‘lyric in general often seems to relish those
very moments and feelings that epic is least capable of including, or at least,
of sustaining and approving: romance, courtship, seduction and
marriage’.141 Sappho describes in detail the happy couple, the gifts, the
songs and dances: her vision is in some ways antithetical to the sense of
loss, the laments and the sheer anguish of Iliad 6. But there is no close
engagement with our text of the Iliad.
The first clear allusions to the Iliadic encounter between Hector and
Andromache survive in Athenian drama. Sophocles modelled the meeting
between Ajax, Tecmessa and their son Eurysaces (Ajax 430–692) on the
Homeric episode: ancient and modern commentators have pointed out the
close parallels between the two texts.142 The differences, however, are also
important: Tecmessa is a slave rather than a wife and, according to classical
Athenian law, her son is therefore illegitimate. As Helene Foley has argued,
Sophocles’ allusion to Homer fosters a serious and emotionally committed
consideration of an issue – the status of illegitimate children – that was
controversial in classical Athens.143 Euripides’ Andromache investigates
similar concerns by recasting the Iliadic Andromache as a slave and mother,
after the fall of Troy.144 Iliad 6 also features in comedy: Aristophanes’
Lysistrata claims that her husband quotes Hector at her, ‘war will be the
concern of men’, in order to make her shut up – and then declares that from
now on ‘war will be the concern of women’.145 At Acharnians 580–90,
Dicaeopolis behaves just like baby Astyanax: he is terrified by the mighty
plume on top of Lamachus’ helmet!146 It seems that the helmet scene also
made an impact on tragedy: a fragment from Astydamas’ Hector suggests
that, in one scene, Hector removes his helmet, so as not to frighten his
child.147 These tragic and comic allusions are quite specific but should not
come as a surprise: the audience in the theatre of Dionysos were well placed
to appreciate them. There was a dynamic relationship between different
festivals and performances in classical Athens: at the Great Dionysia, drama
offered ever new and challenging perspectives on the epic tradition,
whereas at the Great Panathenaea the Iliad kept being performed, festival
after festival. There was a sense that the Iliad was well known and
authoritative: at Trojan Women 647–58, for example, Euripides portrays
Andromache as a rather self-satisfied wife, who knows she is famous for
being good. His Andromache claims that she did not deserve her fate,
because she always behaved well towards her husband and never yielded to
her longing to be outdoors: it is hard not to see in this a rather pointed
reference to her behaviour in Iliad 6.148
The behaviour of Andromache in the Iliad remained a source of debate,
inspiration and anxiety in later Greek literature too. In popular philosophy
and rhetorical education her character became that of the loving wife
(ϕίλανδρος).149 And yet some concern was expressed, for example, when
discussing the etymology of her name: Ἀνδρο – μάχη (man-fighter).150 In
the Second Sophistic, Hector and Andromache were held up as a model
couple151 but also used in order to articulate cultural changes and
developments. In his Advice to bride and groom, a treatise cast in the form
of a wedding address to Pollianus and his bride Eurydice, Plutarch urges the
young couple to emulate Hector and Andromache in a way that is
appropriate to their different circumstances: the husband will become
‘father and honoured mother, and brother’ to his wife, but he should also be
‘a guide, philosopher and teacher’ to her.152 In the Brutus Plutarch again
discusses Hector and Andromache as a model for a married couple. He
reports that Porcia recognised her own situation in a painting of
Andromache, and that the painting made her reveal her pain at the departure
of her husband Brutus:

παντάπασιν ἀπογνοὺς τῶν πραγμάτων ἔγνω καταλιπεῖν Ἰταλίαν, καὶ

πεζῆι διὰ Λευκανίας εἰς Ἐλέαν ἐπὶ θάλασσαν ἧκεν. ὅθεν ἡ Πορκία
μέλλουσα πάλιν εἰς Ῥώμην ἀποτραπέσθαι, λανθάνειν μὲν ἐπειρᾶτο
περιπαθῶς ἔχουσα, γραϕὴ δέ τις αὐτὴν προὔδωκε, τἆλλα γενναίαν
οὖσαν. ἦν γὰρ ἐκ τῶν Ἑλληνικῶν διάθεσις, προπεμπόμενος Ἕκτωρ ὑπ᾽
Ἀνδρομάχης, κομιζομένης παρ᾽ αὐτοῦ τὸ παιδίον, ἐκείνωι δὲ
προσβλεπούσης. ταῦτα θεωμένην τὴν Πορκίαν ἡ τοῦ πάθους εἰκὼν
ἐξέτηξεν εἰς δάκρυα, καὶ πολλάκις ϕοιτῶσα τῆς ἡμέρας ἔκλαιεν.

Altogether despairing of the situation, Brutus decided to leave Italy

and came by land through Lucania to Elea by the sea. As Porcia was
about to return from there to Rome, she tried to conceal her distress,
but a painting betrayed her, although she had otherwise been very
brave. Its subject was Greek: Andromache's farewell to Hector; she
 was taking from his arms their little son, while her eyes were fixed
upon her husband. That image of suffering made Porcia burst into tears
when she looked at it – and she would return to it many times a day
and weep before it.153

Clearly, Porcia is looking at a painting that depicts the precise moment

when Hector entrusts Astyanax to Andromache: 482–93n. We know from
other sources that the scene was popular in Roman art,154 but Plutarch
uniquely describes an individual reaction to it. Porcia identifies herself with
Andromache to the point of tears. She is not supposed to display her grief,
and indeed she does not want to (unlike Andromache) – but she cannot help
it. Indeed, she submits to the power of the painting ‘many times’. Plutarch
uses this story to frame a second response to Hector and Andromache
which, this time, focuses on Brutus, the husband:

Ἀκιλίου δέ τινος τῶν Βρούτου ϕίλων τὰ πρὸς Ἕκτορα τῆς Ἀνδρομάχης

ἔπη διελθόντος·

Ἕκτορ, ἀτὰρ σύ μοί ἐσσι πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ

ἠδὲ κασίγνητος, σὺ δέ μοι θαλερὸς παρακοίτης,

μειδιάσας ὁ Βροῦτος “ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ ἐμοί γ᾽ ” εἶπε “πρὸς Πορκίαν ἔπεισι ϕάναι
τὰ τοῦ Ἕκτορος·

ἱστόν τ᾽ ἠλακάτην τε καὶ ἀμϕιπόλοισι κέλευε·

σώματος γὰρ ἀπολείπεται ϕύσει τῶν ἴσων ἀνδραγαθημάτων, γνώμηι δ᾽

ὑπὲρ τῆς πατρίδος ὥσπερ ἡμεῖς ἀριστεύσει.” ταῦτα μὲν ὁ τῆς Πορκίας
υἱὸς ἱστόρηκε Βύβλος.155
When Acilius, one of Brutus’ friends, recited the verses containing
Andromache's words to Hector,

‘But Hector, you are a father and honoured mother to me,

and a brother, and a tender husband’

Brutus smiled and said: ‘But I, for one, do not intend to speak to
Porcia in Hector's words:
 “Ply the loom and the distaff, and give orders to your maids”

for though her body is not strong enough to perform such heroic feats
as men do, still, in spirit she valiantly defends her country just as we
do.’ Bibulus, Porcia's son, tells this story.

By juxtaposing this scene with Porcia's response to the painting, Plutarch

sets up a series of contrasts: between men and women, art and poetry, and
between Greek and Roman attitudes to marriage and war. Porcia responds
to the painted Andromache by submitting to the emotional power of art.
Brutus by contrast refuses to play Hector to her Andromache: he quotes the
Iliad – a text, not an image – and distances himself from it with a knowing
smile. His act of resistance is manly, and yet it concerns a woman: Brutus
declares that Porcia is just as valiant in spirit, and committed to war, as he is
himself. This attempt at rewriting Iliad 6 is full of ironies. Although Brutus
claims that Porcia is like a man in spirit, she has just shown herself to be
very unlike Brutus, and very much like the Homeric Andromache – even
though she had initially tried to resist a display of grief.
On the whole, the Roman reception of Iliad 6 focuses on Andromache's
life after the fall of Troy and is often mediated through tragedy; Hector is
less important, partly because he has no future beyond the Trojan War.
Naevius may have followed Astydamas in his Hector proficiscens;156 but
Ennius’ influential Andromacha put the emphasis squarely on the post-
Iliadic Andromache. Virgil extensively reworked the encounter between
Hector and Andromache in Aeneid 2: his emphasis is also on Andromache,
because Hector recedes into the past.157 Seneca's Troades portrays
Andromache as a widow and – alongside Virgil's description of her in exile
(Aeneid 3.294–505) – defines her persona for much of the Middle Ages and
the early modern period.158 In Racine's Andromaque she is – as often in
earlier literature – a widow, rather than the anguished wife of Iliad 6. It is
only towards the end of the seventeenth century that we begin to see a
renewed interest in the Iliadic encounter between Hector and Andromache.
Dryden translated it for his Examen poeticum of 1693,159 and Pellegrini
painted his Hector and Andromache for the first Duke of Manchester c.
1708–10.160 Shortly after, Pope wrote the following note on Iliad 6:
 Homer undoubtedly shines most upon the great Subjects, in raising our
Admiration or Terror: Pity, and the softer Passions, are not so much of
the Nature of his Poem, which is formed upon Anger and the Violence
of Ambition. But we have cause to think his Genius was no less
capable of touching the Heart with Tenderness, than of firing it with
Glory, from the few Sketches he has left us of his Excellency in that
way too. In the present Episode of the Parting of Hector and
Andromache, he has assembled all that Love, Grief, and Compassion
could inspire.161

As Clingham notes, the episode was fast becoming ‘a touchstone for

pathos and a natural style’,162 and not just in poetry: in his Tableaux tirés de
l’Iliade de l’Odyssée et de l’Enéide of 1757, the comte de Caylus devoted
to the encounter three separate tableaux: ‘Andromache and the nurse’, ‘the
farewell of Hector’ and ‘Andromache laments with her maids’.163 In Britain
the Swiss-born Angelica Kauffmann painted Hector taking leave of
Andromache (c. 1768/9) for the inaugural exhibition at the Royal Academy
of Painting and Sculpture; she turns Hector into a ‘wistful juvenile who
wears his helmet uneasily’.164 Kauffmann's painting inspired Friedrich
Schiller's poem Hektors Abschied, which is formally a dialogue between the
two partners but concentrates almost entirely on Hector.165 Schiller returned
to and reworked his poem for a period of over twenty years and considered
it ‘one of his best’.166 Goethe's newspaper Propyläen held a painting
competition in 1800: artists could choose whether to depict the Iliadic
encounter between Hector and Andromache, or the death of Rhesos in Iliad
10. The subjects were designed to showcase different skills: one required
‘tender sentiment and inner feeling’, the other ‘artistic effect’.167 Dönike
has argued that the two subjects reflected a tension between German
classicism, with its emphasis on inner feelings (Hector and Andromache)
and the more dramatic French manner, as represented especially by
Jacques-Louis David.168 In his appraisal of the submissions to the painting
competition, Schiller explicitly connected the popularity of Hector and
Andromache as a subject with German sentimentality:

Hector's farewell is a moving subject in and of itself, even without any

input on the part of the artist. It could make a telling image without
 testing the imagination, through simple truth alone. But here one had
to reckon with the sentimental tendencies of our nation and our times,
which have taken hold to such an extent that they are truly threatening
to ruin all art, including that of painting, as it is threatening to ruin
poetry.169

Schiller praised Homer for his ability to depict sentiments without

sentimentality; his judgement proved influential. Schadewaldt's reading of
the Iliad is deeply influenced by Schiller,170 and through Schadewaldt's
own work, Schiller's views have entered mainstream Homeric scholarship.
But Hector and Andromache also had a lasting impact on the visual arts.
Giorgio de Chirico painted Hector and Andromache as mannequins and
hence deprived them of all inner feeling.171 His enigmatic Hector and
Andromache became an icon of the metaphysical movement and was later
reconfigured by the post-modern artists Andy Warhol and Mike Bidlo.172 It
seems, then, that from Plutarch to Schiller to de Chirico and beyond, the
encounter between Hector and Andromache inspired an extended
meditation on poetry, art and human emotion.173
This brief discussion is not intended as a normative guide to the most
influential reworkings of the episode, but rather as an open-ended invitation
to read Iliad 6 together with other readers, as well as scholars, writers and
artists. Some modern reworkings can help to capture the overall mood of
the episode. Cavafy's Trojans, for example, though primarily inspired by
Iliad 22, recreates the effect of Andromache's ominous lamenting for
Hector, while he is still alive:

Our efforts are those of men prone to disaster;

our efforts are like those of the Trojans.
…
and we scurry around the walls
trying to save ourselves by running away.
Yet we’re sure to fail. Up there,
high on the wall, the dirge has already begun.174

Mandelstam recalls the encounter in Iliad 6 from the perspective of

Andromache:
 Why did I tear myself away from you before it was time?175

Sometimes, poets contribute to our understanding of details. Carol Ann

Duffy, for example, expands Homer's compressed line 391, offering a full
picture of the built-up city, and Hector's movement through it:

These words, like shadows, followed Hector's stride

All through the town, along the avenues, ducking down
Cool alleyways, his helmet's sudden flash,
His cape's dark swish, disappearing round the corner
Of walled lanes, until he reached the Skaian Gates.176

Amy Clampitt describes a Greek tutorial in a ‘ninth-floor classroom, its

windows grimy…the noise of traffic, πολυϕλοίσβοιο-θαλάσσης-like’, and
then suddenly identifies with Astyanax:

We have seen…
…Hector's baby, shadowed by the plumes of war
As we are, pull back from his own father with a shriek.177

Michael Longley, in ‘The Parting’, condenses the whole encounter into

two lines of poetry.178

He: ‘Leave it to the big boys, Andromache.’

‘Hector, my darling husband, och, och,’ she.

Through his vernacular idiom, Longley sets the encounter in a modern

Irish context, against the backdrop of the Troubles. In another poem, ‘The
Helmet’, he reflects on the same episode, but focuses on Hector's prayer for
Astyanax. Here he implicitly casts Homer as his own literary father – and
questions his influence on contemporary literary and moral values.179

When shiny Hector reached out for his son, the wean
Squirmed and buried his head between his nurse's breasts
And howled, terrorised by his father, by flashing bronze
And the nightmarish nodding of the horse-hair crest.
 His daddy laughed, his mammy laughed, and his daddy
Took off the helmet and laid it on the ground to gleam,
Then kissed the babbie and dandled him in his arms and
Prayed that his son might grow up bloodier than him.

6. The Text
Editors of Homer are guided in their choices by what they think about two
fundamental, and much disputed, issues: how the Iliad came into being, and
what happened to it in Alexandria.
Those who believe that Homer dictated or wrote down a master copy of
the Iliad in the eighth or seventh century BCE privilege readings that look
old, find it easier to justify interventions that aim at consistency and tend to
emend passages or features that seem recent relative to other aspects of the
text.180 Those who believe that the Iliad stems from a more drawn-out
process of textual fixation are prepared to allow for a less consistent and
early-sounding text.181 In formulating our own views, we have tried to hold
on to one basic point. The origins of the Iliad remain obscure: as Cassio
points out in a helpful discussion, the poem is ‘likely to be the result of
extremely complicated processes involving both orality and writing, which
we can no longer reconstruct’.182 Given the limitations of our knowledge,
caution seems appropriate.183 The Iliad may be early, but then – as we have
seen – there is little evidence that suggests it made much impact before the
sixth century. Performances at the Panathenaea were clearly an important
factor in the survival and transmission of Homeric epic, but the Iliad is not
an Athenian poem.184 The language of epic combines older with more
recent elements and shows influences from different dialects; attempts to
weed out supposedly un-Homeric forms quickly run into difficulties: even
seemingly clear-cut examples of innovative spelling are not always easy to
date absolutely and therefore cannot be disregarded as post-Homeric.185 In
view of the gaps in our knowledge, the present edition adopts a pragmatic
approach: we have noted instances of prima facie archaic forms (e.g. regard
for initial digamma) and apparently later usage (e.g. disregard of digamma),
but we have not attempted to date these, or to impose consistency on the
transmitted text.
 The second issue concerns the impact of Alexandrian scholarship on the
text of the Iliad. It is generally agreed that the vulgate can be traced back to
the Hellenistic period. To what extent it is a reliable guide to the pre-
Hellenistic text of Homer is a more difficult question. Early papyri show a
certain amount of variation, especially in the number of lines.186 These
divergences, however, are small-scale, and do not detract from the general
impression of textual unity: the classical text of the Iliad must have been
close to the medieval vulgate. Early citations by and large confirm this
impression.187 When Herodotus, for example, quotes and discusses Iliad
6.289–92, he uses a text that is recognisably the same as our own: we
cannot of course exclude the possibility that Herodotus’ text was brought in
line with the Homeric vulgate at some point in the history of transmission,
but it is clear from Herodotus’ paraphrase that he must have known
essentially the same Iliad as we have today: 289–92n. Some variants may
have originated in rhapsodic performance, though ancient commentaries do
not usually credit rhapsodes with variant readings.188 A particular problem
arises from variants recommended by ancient scholars, but unattested – or
only weakly attested – in the textual tradition. There is considerable dispute
over the value and origins of such variants.189 We have tried to approach
them with an open mind, assessing each case on its own merits. The result
has been that – as far as Iliad 6 is concerned – the readings of ancient
scholars often seem motivated by a desire to clarify or correct the
transmitted text (e.g. 4n., 21n., 31n., 71n., 76n., 148n., 226n., 237n., 241n.,
252n., 266n., 285n., 321–2n., 415n., 511n.). Scholarly readings make the
Homeric text more context-specific (e.g. 112n.), more idiomatic (e.g. 475n.)
or more decorous (e.g. 135n., 160n.) by the standards of Hellenistic readers.
Our findings thus confirm Fantuzzi's argument that Hellenistic scholars
tended to adjust Homeric poetry to the sensibilities of their age.190 This
does not exclude the possibility that some of the readings favoured by the
Alexandrians represent genuine early variants,191 but if that is what they
are, they survived because they suited Hellenistic tastes.
The text is our own, though it does not differ significantly from standard
editions. Our apparatus adopts the simplified system of reference
introduced by Macleod 1982: the letters a, b and c indicate variant readings,
including those found in the papyri and scholia. Readings only found in one
or more papyri are noted under p; in the commentary papyri are sometimes
identified by quoting their number in M. L. West 2001a. Suggestions of
ancient scholars are cited by their name, when it is known; the following
abbreviations are used: Ar. = Aristarchus; Arph. = Aristophanes of
Byzantium; Zen. = Zenodotus. The apparatus makes no claim to
completeness. Variants are selected either because they are significant in
themselves or because they are instructive for readers of Iliad 6. Those
interested in the details of textual transmission should consult the editions
by van Thiel and West.192

1 Proclus, Chrestomathy I, trans. M. L. West 2003: 419.

2 Later the poet asks the Muse to identify the best of the Achaeans (2.761–
2). At 11.218–20 and 14.508–10, two important moments in the narrative,
he asks the Muses to establish the correct order of events. At 16.112–13 he
demands to know how the ships of the Achaeans caught fire. In every case,
the poet goes on to provide the information he requested of the goddesses.

3 The idea would have seemed less strange to ancient readers than it might
seem to us. Compare what Socrates has to say about true insight at Plato,
Symp. 219a: ‘The inner eye of thought (ἡ τῆς διανοίας ὄψις) begins to see
clearly when our real eyes start losing their sharpness of vision.’

4 The passages are collected and discussed in A. Parry 1972, Block 1982
and Yamagata 1989.

5 S. D. Richardson 1990: 170–4 discusses ancient and modern views.

6 See, for example, Fränkel 1955.

7 De Jong 2007: 30–1.

8 Scodel 2008b: 109.

9 Winkler 2007.

10 On the complex relationship between the imagined observer, the poet

and the audience in this passage, see Mirto 1997: 925.

11 Macleod 1982: 7.

12 See Zajko 2006.

13 Griffith 1983: 46.

14 Scodel 2002a.

15 See, for example, Rohde 1925: 25–6 (German edn 1898).

16 The visual evidence for Iliadic scenes is collected and discussed in

Burgess 2001: 53–94.

17 Cassio 2002: 118–19.

18 Powell 1991 suggests that the Greek alphabet was adapted from West
Semitic prototypes specifically so as to write down Homeric epic at around
800 BCE. Janko 1982: 231 dates the Iliad to c. 755/750–725 BCE. Burkert
1976 and M. L. West 1995 detect allusions in the Iliad to later events, and
on that basis suggest a date of composition in the seventh century BCE.
Jensen 1980 argues that the poems were written down in Athens, in the
sixth century BCE.

19 E.g. Janko 1982: 191; Lord 2000: chs. 6–7; Powell 1991: 232–3.

20 E.g. Wolf 1985 [1795]; Heitsch 1968; Jensen 1980; Seaford 1994: 152–
4; for the view that the poems were transmitted orally, but with only minor
variations, between the eight and sixth centuries BCE, see Kirk 1962, esp.
pp. 98–101. Kirk's idea of the ‘life cycle’ of an oral tradition (Kirk 1962:
95–8) is developed in G. Nagy 1996a.

21 See esp. [Plato], Hipparchus 228b and Lycurgus, In Leocratem 102.

Related sources are collected and discussed in Merkelbach 1952; Jensen
1980: chs. 9–10; Kotsidu 1991: 41–4; and G. Nagy 1996a, esp. ch. 3.

22 On Proitos’ trick and what, if anything, it reveals about the role of

writing in the composition of Homeric epic, see Heubeck 1979: 126–46;
Powell 1991: 198–200; Ford 1992: 131–8; Brillante 1996; Bassi 1997: 325–
9; and J. M. Foley 1999: 1–3.

23 The extremely regular layout of the inscription on the eighth-century

Ischia cup (‘Nestor's cup’) may reflect the influence of epic texts written on
papyrus or leather – though such texts may not have been Homer's poems as
we have them; see Cassio 1999: 79.

24 For Homeric prosody and metre see W. S. Allen 1973, M. L. West 1982
and 1997b, Sicking 1993, Nünlist 2000.

25 For a brief overview see Wachter 2000: 72–3.

26 At the end of a word, the sounds ν, ρ, ς may have the same effect.

27 W. S. Allen 1973: 224; M. L. West 1982: 12; Nünlist 2000: 110.

Wachter 2000: 74 is sceptical.

28 The same freedom in the treatment of hiatus is evident in the text

inscribed on the Ischia cup (n. 23); see Chadwick 1990: 174–5; and Garvie
1994: 32.

29 Groups of words that were pronounced together may have been marked
in early written texts of Homer, as they are on the Ischia cup (n. 23); see
Alpers 1969; Heubeck 1979: 115; and Wachter 2000: 66–7.
30 M. L. West 1997b: 222–3 gives the relative frequencies of the main
Homeric caesurae.

31 Enclitic words are not considered exceptions to Hermann's bridge

because they lean heavily on the previous word (i.e. there is no real word
break there). There are also words that lean forward and belong to what
follows: for example, καί – ◡◡ || – – is frequent at the end of the line and is
not thought to disregard Hermann's bridge. See further van Leeuwen 1890:
265–76; and M. L. West 1982: 37–8.

32 Higbie 1990: 66 gives the percentage of Homeric lines that can stand on
their own as just over 75 per cent.

33 This happens in just over 60 per cent of cases, according to Higbie

1990: 66.

34 For the term, see Kirk 1985: 30–7.

35 The term is Parry's; for his discussion of enjambment, see M. Parry

1971: 251–65.

36 See Graziosi 2001 and D. B. Collins 2004: 185–91.

37 See Higbie 1990: 67.

38 Bakker 2005: 55.

39 For discussion, Bakker 2005: 52–5.

40 M. L. West 1982: 39 and 1997b: 232–3.

41 Kirk 1990: 226.

42 For a full analysis of Hector's epithets see Di Benedetto 1998: 122–39.

43 M. Parry 1971: 118–72, esp. 171–2.

44 Logue 2001: vii.

45 Fantuzzi 2001: 174–7.

46 Edwards 1986 and 1988 gives an excellent account of scholarship on

Homeric formulae. For more recent contributions see the articles assembled
in Morris and Powell 1997, Bakker and Kahane 1997, and Létoublon 1997;
also Visser 1987, J. M. Foley 1991 and 1999, Bakker 1997a and 2005,
Graziosi and Haubold 2005.

47 On significant lines repeated twice, see Rutherford 1992: 56–7.

48 Catalogues impressed ancient audiences and readers: Alcinous

compliments Odysseus on his ability to ‘set out’ or ‘catalogue’ his story
like a bard (καταλέξαι: Od. 11.368); see also the comments of ancient
readers in the scholia ad Il. 2.484–93. Gaertner 2001, Perceau 2002 and
Sammons 2010 discuss Homeric catalogues.

49 Discussed by Arend 1933 and, from the perspective of oral poetry, Lord
2000 (first published in 1960). For more recent approaches, see Edwards
1992 and Clark 2004: 134–7.

50 Ring composition was first described by van Otterlo 1948. For an up-to-
date anthropological perspective see Douglas 2007. Minchin 1995 and
Nimis 1999 focus on Homer; for ring composition in Homeric speeches:
Lohmann 1970.

51 For a fascinating description of how the guslari learnt and used

traditional themes, see Lord 2000: ch. 4, esp. 88.
52 Griffin 1986. Restrictions can cut both ways: Homeric characters, who
lack the poet's understanding of divine affairs, do not call Helen the
‘daughter of Zeus’; the one exception is Penelope at Od. 23.218.

53 Edwards 1991: 37–8, with further bibliographical guidance.

54 De Jong 2004: ch. 4.

55 Plato famously discusses the phenomenon at Rep. 392c.

56 Herodotus 2.53.2.

57 Bakker 1993: 16–23.

58 Logue 2001: 153.

59 Bakker 1997a: 74–80.

60 For a detailed discussion of words designed to fit the hexameter, see

Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 94–112.

61 For Homeric language as a Kunstsprache, ‘artificial language’, see

Meister 1921. For more recent discussions, Chantraine 1948–53,
Hainsworth 1988, Horrocks 1997, Wachter 2000 and Hackstein 2002.

62 See Graziosi 2002: ch. 2 for a discussion of early Greek traditions

relating to Homer's birth.

63 See Janko 1994: 15–19 (Aeolic) and 11–12 (Mycenaean).

64 On Attic: Wackernagel 1916; Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 15–16; Cassio

2002: 117 with n. 55. On possible Euboean and Boeotian influences, see the
cautious appraisal by Cassio 2002: 108, 111 and 116.
65 For the character and use of Standard Babylonian see Huehnergard
2005: 595–8.

66 Hillgruber 1994–9: vol. I, 102–4.

67 One of the first scholars to investigate the connections between

parataxis and orality is Notopoulos 1949, who compares ancient Greek and
Kirghiz narrative traditions. An influential discussion of parataxis as a
feature of orality is Ong 1988, esp. 37–8.

68 Bakker 1997a.

69 Note especially 13.340–1:…ὄσσε δ᾽ ἄμερδεν || αὐγὴ χαλκείη κορύθων

ἄπο λαμπομενάων: ‘… their eyes were dazzled by the bronze light
reflecting off the shining helmets’.

70 13.99 etc. Slatkin 2007 explores the connections between seeing,

marvelling, and epic fame in the Iliad.

71 Lessing 1962: 80; originally 1766.

72 Or perhaps: ‘… so that we do not just hear …’, reading ὥστε for ὅτι
with Wilamowitz.

73 Plato, Rep. 598d, with Macleod 1982: 1–8. On Homer's ‘stagecraft’, see
esp. Clay 2007.

74 Ford 1992: 54–5.

75 [Plutarch] On Homer II ch. 4 claims that Aristarchus, or more generally

his school, was the first to divide the Iliad and Odyssey into books, but this
cannot be right: see S. West 1967: 18–25. For further discussion see
especially Jensen 1999; Taplin 1992: 285–93; Heiden 1998; and Edwards
2002: 39–47.
76 One ancient commentator actually encourages his readers to ignore the
division between Iliad 2 and 3 because, he claims, it is not original; cf.
Nünlist 2006.

77 E.g. Iliou Persis (Proclus, Chrestomathy, pp. 144–6 West); Stesichorus,

Sack of Troy frr. 197–8, 201 and 204–5 Davies. The women of Troy occupy
a prominent place also on Polygnotus’ painting of the aftermath of the
Trojan War as described by Pausanias (10.25–27, esp. 25.9ff.); and in
Euripides’ play Trojan Women.

78 Later accounts of the sack of Troy emphasise the violent intrusion of

soldiers into bedrooms: see e.g. Eur. Andr. 109–12, Hec. 914–51; and Virg.
Aen. 2.479–505, esp. 503–5.

79 Hera and Athena are hostile to Troy throughout the Iliad, and indeed
until the city falls: 20.313–17. The poet hardly refers to the judgement of
Paris, though at 24.27–30 he does say that it offended the goddesses; see
further Scully 1990: 38–40.

80 Iliou Persis in Proclus, Chrestomathy, p. 144 West. No individual god is

mentioned at Od. 8.509.

81 See especially the Little Iliad (Proclus, Chrestomathy, pp. 120–2 West);
the Iliou Persis (Chrest. pp. 144–6 West); the Nostoi (Chrest. p. 154 West);
and cf. Od. 1.326–7, 3.130–6 and 143–7, 4.502, 5.105–11, 13.312–51, with
Clay 1983. For a later exploration of Athena's attitude to Troy, cf. Eur. Tro.
1–97.

82 See esp. Herodotus 7.43, with Haubold 2007.

83 Lorimer 1950: 442–9, who builds on earlier work by Bethe 1929: 314–
24; for further discussion, see Kirk 1990: 167–8.

84 See Crielaard 2003 and Grethlein 2008.

85 See Neils 1992: 112–17.

86 The description is taken from Arthur Katz 1981.

87 Aristarchus was so puzzled by Hecuba's movements that he offered an

unlikely interpretation in order to account for them: 252n.

88 On 22.445, see further Grethlein 2006a: 245–53.

89 On women's attitude to war in the Iliad, see further Murnaghan 1999:

207–17.

90 See further Arthur Katz 1981: 26.

91 Arthur Katz 1981: 38.

92 The prevailing notion that the Iliad ends with the touching encounter
between Achilles and Priam is not quite accurate: the poem finishes with
the women's laments for Hector, and with his burial.

93 For Schliemann's work see Schliemann 1880, Calder and Traill 1986,
Calder and Cobet 1990, Cobet and Patzek 1992, Traill 1993 and 1995,
Boedeker 1997, Cobet 1997 and Easton 2002.

94 See, for example, the debate about the excavations of the late Manfred
Korfmann: Latacz et al. 2001, Cobet and Gehrke 2002, Haubold 2002, Ulf
2003 and Latacz 2004.

95 Hertel 2003: 24–86 (the walls of Troy) and 94–122 (the temple of
Athena); see also the remarks in Hertel 2008: 86–9.

96 Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 103–5, 125–34.

97 ΣA ad 6.119a.

98 ΣbT ad 6.237a; Schadewaldt 1943: 77; Homer inserts an episode of

similar length and nature while Trojan heralds are sent from the battlefield
to the city in book 3: between their departure (3.116–17) and their arrival
(245), the poet offers an extended description of the battlefield (3.121–244).

99 The idea goes back to Kakridis 1949: ch. 1, esp. 49–53.

100 ΣbT ad 6.260c, discussed below: Introduction 4.2.

101 ΣbT ad 6.467, discussed above: Introduction 2.6.

102 ΣbT ad 6.495–6, discussed at 494–502n.

103 See Willcock 1992: 68–72.

104 For a standard flyting reply, see, for example 5.647–54.

105 Stoevesandt 2008: 57–8 discusses alternative interpretations.

106 See further Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 139–47.

107 Pratt 2009 suggests that he does not.

108 Über naive und sentimentalische Dichtung. The essay is printed in

Janz et al. 1992: 706–810. For an English translation see Hinderer and
Dahlstrom 1993: 179–260. Schiller discusses the passage from Iliad 6 at
Janz et al. 1992: 730–2; cf. Hinderer and Dahlstrom 1993: 198–9 (trockene
Wahrhaftigkeit: Janz et al. 1992: 731).

109 Aristotle, fr. 155 Rose = 379 Gigon.

110 For ancient interpretations of the episode, see further Maftei 1976: 52–
4.

111 For overviews of the modern debate: Calder 1984; Alden 1996; and
Stoevesandt 2008: 85–6.

112 Even that exchange was perceived as problematic in antiquity, see

Soph. Ajax 661–5 and 1026–39.

113 The Little Iliad described another wartime encounter between guest-
friends: see fr. 22 West, where Odysseus spares Helicaon because they
share an ancient bond of hospitality. That episode must also have cast an
interesting light on the encounter between Glaukos and Diomedes.

114 Edwards 1987: 207.

115 See above p. 7.

116 Priam too loves his son Paris: at 3.304–9 he claims he cannot bear to
watch him fight with Menelaos.

117 This is the second of four conversations between Hector and Paris in
the Iliad; cf. 3.38–76, 6.517–29 and 13.765–88. It is the only direct
encounter between Hector and Helen, though she comments on their
relationship at the very end of the poem: 24.761–75.

118 See also Minchin 2007: 33.

119 Cf. 13.116–22, where Poseidon claims there is no point in upbraiding

weaklings.

120 Lesky 1961 is a classic account of this phenomenon. For an abridged

version in English see Lesky 2001. For more recent discussion and
bibliography, see Cairns 2001: 14–20.
121 Eust. II, p. 353: 12–15 van der Valk.

122 Here as elsewhere, Paris has a powerful hold on his family and people;
cf. 7.345–79, 11.122–5.

123 Helen's ability to seduce depends on her words as well as her beauty:
at Od. 4.277–9, for example, we are told that she tried to lure the Achaeans
out of the wooden horse by imitating the voices of their wives; on Helen,
beauty and persuasion, see further Gorgias, Encomium of Helen, together
with Bergren 1983: 82–6; Worman 1997 and 2001. For a different reading
of the speech, see Stoevesandt 2008: 115.

124 Cf. 238n. (the Trojan women), 251n. (Hecuba) and 394n.
(Andromache).

125 Arthur Katz 1981: 29 rightly points out that Helen's description of a
good husband fits Hector.

126 Gorgias, Hel. ch. 7: ὁ μὲν γὰρ ἔδρασε δεινά, ἡ δὲ ἔπαθε (‘he did
dreadful deeds, she suffered them’). On ancient attitudes towards Helen, see
Austin 1994.

127 For an excellent discussion of the housekeeper, see Di Benedetto 1998:

60–1.

128 The poet employs a similar technique at 369–91n.: while Hector looks
for Andromache inside the house, he tells the audience where she actually
is. The time of story and that of the performance match: Hector looks, while
the poet tells. Andromache runs, while the poet remembers her past.

129 Felson and Slatkin 2004: 99, n. 24.

130 Arthur Katz 1981: 19–20 and 31.

131 ΣbT ad 6.433: ‘Even if it is not fitting for a woman, it is fitting for
Andromache, since looking after horses is also not for a woman, but
Andromache gives wheat to Hector's horses and mixes wine for them,
because loving her husband she also looks after the horses who carry him.’
The scholiast is referring to 8.186–90, where Hector remarks good-
naturedly to his horses that Andromache feeds them before taking care of
her own dear husband. As the scholiast points out, such unconventional
details in no way cast doubt on Andromache's love for Hector but make her
marriage to him vivid and credible. For modern appreciations of lines 433–
9, see Arthur Katz 1981: 32–3; Kirk 1990: 217–18; Schadewaldt 1997: 134;
and Van Nortwick 2001: 226–7.

132 Mack 1967: 354.

133 For discussions of the heroic code, see, e.g., Dodds 1951: chs. 1–2,
Adkins 1960: chs. 2–4; Long 1970; Rowe 1983; Redfield 1994: 99–127;
Cairns 1993: ch. 1; and Scodel 2008a, esp. ch. 1.

134 The comment reads: ἀπὸ τῆς πολλῆς αὐτῶν λύπης ἡ μικρὰ τοῦ παιδὸς
αἰτία ϕυσικόν τινα κινεῖ καὶ μέτριον γέλωτα; ‘out of their great distress, the
child's slight cause (sc. for distress) moves them to a natural and fitting
laughter’. As often, the b scholia creatively reinterpret a source more
faithfully represented by the T scholia: ἀπὸ τῆς πολλῆς λύπης ἐκ μικρᾶς
αἰτίας γέλωτα κινεῖ: ‘[Astyanax] makes them laugh because of his great
distress from a slight cause.’ The intent of b is clearly that of explaining
how Andromache and Hector can laugh although they are in such a terrible
situation. On the b scholia, see van der Valk 1963–4: vol. I, ch. 5; and cf.
21n. (Αἴσηπον καὶ Πήδασον).

135 See further Van Nortwick 2001.

136 Although Hector briefly returns to Troy at 7.307–10, the poet makes
little of it and says nothing about Andromache. This is, in effect, their final
parting, as Edwards 1987: 212 rightly argues.
137 For a useful introduction to the Homeric scholia see Schmidt 2002.
The Iliad scholia have been edited by Erbse 1969–88; those to the Odyssey
are currently being re-edited by Pontani, who has so far covered books 1–2
(Pontani 2007). For the other books, it is still necessary to consult Dindorf
1855. The important Iliad commentary of Eustathius has been edited in van
der Valk 1971–87; the so-called D-Scholia to the Iliad are available in a
preliminary edition by van Thiel 2000b; see also van Thiel 2000a; Schmidt
1976 studies the bT scholia. On ancient scholarship, see further van der
Valk 1963–4, Pfeiffer 1968, Montanari 1979–95, Reynolds and Wilson
1991, and Dickey 2007.

138 Anthologia Graeca 9, epigram 385.6. For critical edition and

discussion see Ludwich 1887: 1–9; and Stadtmueller 1906: 364–8. There
was a competing version of the poem which emphasised the offering to
Athena.

139 Herter 1973: 160; see also LIMC s.v. ‘Andromache’, vol. I.1, p. 773.
The few vase paintings that undoubtedly represent the parting scene are
listed at LIMC s.v. ‘Andromache’ 3.4–6 (vol. I.1, p. 768). Images 14–21
(vol. I.1, p. 769) are of doubtful relevance: even if some of the disputed
vases were meant to represent Hector and Andromache, the very fact that
we can no longer be sure seems significant.

140 On the relationship between epic and lyric, see further Fowler 1987:
3–52; Hunter 2004: 238–40; and Graziosi and Haubold 2009, with further
literature.

141 Griffith 2009: 82.

142 See the Sophoclean scholia ad 499, 501b, 514, 545a, 550
Christodoulou. See further Easterling 1984; Zanker 1992: 22–3; Farmer
1998; Ormand 1999: 110–19; Zimmermann 2002: 244–5; and Maronitis
2004: 89–97.

143 H. P. Foley 2001: 90–2.

144 Note, for example, the parallels between Euripides Andr. 164–9 and Il.
6.456–8. The image of Andromache carrying water seems to become
popular in later literature; cf. ΣA ad 6.457a.

145 Aristoph. Lys. 520 and 538. For other citations of, and allusions to,
Hector's words, see Aesch. Sept. 200–1 with Ieranò 2002: 75–6, and the
passages collected in West's apparatus.

146 See Hunter 2004: 242; Zimmermann 2006: 75.

147 Astydamas TrGF I 60 F 2; Carrara 1997 discusses the content and

context of this difficult fragment. For a reconstruction of the play on the
basis of an Apulian volute-crater in Berlin, see Taplin 2009.

148 Esp. Tro. 650; see also Tro. 645–6, where she claims that she always
behaved modestly (σώϕρον᾽) in the house of Hector: Iliadic readers know
that she was not always there; for further discussion of the Troades and
Homer, see Davidson 2001.

149 E.g. ΣT ad 6.394b1; ΣT ad 6.411a1; ΣbT ad 6.433; ΣbT ad 17.207–8b;

Maximus of Tyre, Dissertationes 40.3; Eust. II, p. 372: 20–1 van der Valk.

150 See, e.g., Eur. Tro. 731–4; TrGF V.2 F 1094; Varro, De Lingua Latina
7.82 (Ennius takes up the Euripidean etymology); and Anthologia Graeca
11, epigram 378.5 (about a dreaded wife who is truly ἀνδρομάχη). The
motif of a combative Andromache is attested in vase painting (Capettini
2007: 218–20) and found its way also into ancient Homeric scholarship (see
Eust. II, p. 331: 9–11 van der Valk).

151 See, e.g., Maximus of Tyre, Dissertationes 18.8.

152 Plutarch, Coniugalia praecepta 145B6–C2.

153 Plutarch, Brutus 994D–E.

154 See LIMC s.v. Andromache 3.8–9 for two other extant examples of
Roman wall painting, one from a house in Pompeii, the other from Nero's
Domus Aurea.

155 Plut. Brut. 994E–F.

156 Marmorale 1950: 149–50 and 190. Too little is left of the play to allow
firm conclusions as to its contents.

157 On Virgil's allusions to Iliad 6 in Aeneid 2, see esp. Hughes 1997.

Elegy, unsurprisingly, does show an interest in Hector and Andromache as a
couple, but the focus is more on their sex life than on their final parting:
Propertius 2.22 B, 31–4 Heyworth; Ovid, Amores 1.9.35–6; cf. Ars amatoria
2.709–10, 3.107–10. For Hector as a paradigmatic husband and lover, see
Heroides 5.107 (felix Andromache, certo bene nupta marito), and Ars am.
2.645–6. The Ilias Latina has Andromache initiate the encounter: 564–74.

158 For the reception of Seneca's Troades see Keulen 2001: 30–5.

159 For discussion see Clingham 2000.

160 Oil on canvas, Temple Newsam House, Leeds Museums and Galleries.
For a reproduction see Lomax 2000: 26.

161 Mack 1967: 349. Pope himself acknowledged his debt to Dryden in
the same context: ‘I must not forget, that Mr. Dryden has formerly
translated this admirable Episode, and with so much Success, as to leave me
at least no hopes of improving or equalling it. The utmost I can pretend is to
have avoided a few modern Phrases and Deviations from the Original,
which have escaped that great Man.’

162 Clingham 2000: 54.

163 Caylus 1757: 50–2, plates 6–8. Note especially his comments on plate
7: he believes that the farewell of Hector ‘will always deserve the attention
of painters’.

164 Boime 1987: 112–13; cf. Mellor 1995: 132. The painting is now kept
in Saltram House, Plymouth. For a reproduction see Bermingham and
Brewer 1995, plate 8.2.

165 Schiller appears to have known Kauffmann's painting indirectly,

through a description of Helfrich Peter Sturz; cf. Ballof 1914: 298 and
Thalheim 1980: 834. For discussion of his poem see Borchmeyer 1972.

166 Letter to Christian Gottfried Körner of 27 May 1793, printed in Nahler

and Nahler 1992: 243. The poem had already appeared as an inset song in
Schiller's play Die Räuber (1781) but was only published as a free-standing
work in 1800 (Gedichte I/1 pp. 301–2). Schubert set it to music in 1815,
published in 1826.

167 Meyer 1800; for discussion of the competition and reproductions of

some of the submissions see Scheidig 1958: 65–124 and plates 4–10; Lange
et al. 1988: 422–31 and 1088–96; and Dönike 2005: 236–78.

168 Dönike 2005: 269–70 and 273–4. David's dramatic Andromache

mourning Hector (painted after Racine) gained him election to the
Académie Royale in 1784; for the much later drawing of Hector's departure
(1812), see Schnapper 1982: 260.

169 Schiller in Janz et al. 1992: 847. Goethe expressed his agreement with
Schiller's remarks in a letter of 30 September 1800: ‘You cannot imagine
how beautiful, good and appropriate I find [your essay]’ (Dörr and Oellers
1999: 79).

170 Schadewaldt himself praises Schiller's ‘deep understanding’ of the

Homeric scene at Schadewaldt 1959: 232.
171 De Chirico painted several versions of Hector and Andromache
between 1917 and 1970. For a reproduction of the 1917 version (Mattioli
collection, Milan) see Hirsh 2004: 416; for the 1924 version (Galerie
Cazeau-Béraudère, Paris) see Baldacci and Roos 2007: 119. The visual
template for the series was de Chirico's own earlier work Le duo (Les
mannequins de la tour rosel) of 1915. On the mannequin motif see Bohn
1975. For a very different Hector and Andromache by de Chirico, see
Quasimodo 1982: 45.

172 A. Warhol, Hector and Andromache, 1982; M. Bidlo, Not de Chirico

(Hector and Andromache, 1918), 1989. For reproductions and discussion
see Hirsh 2004: 415–31.

173 Zajko 2006 chooses precisely the Iliadic encounter between Hector
and Andromache in order to develop and test her Freudian model for reader
identification. The reception history of the episode suggests that readers
have indeed found it easy to commit emotionally to Hector and
Andromache.

174 Cavafy 1992: 22.

175 In Kossman 2001: 226.

176 Duffy and Graziosi 2005: 7.

177 Clampitt 1997: 202.

178 Longley 2006: 226.

179 Longley 2006: 226; for a discussion of the poem, see Hardwick 2007:
58–9.

180 E.g. the edition by M. L. West 1998–2000, cf. West 2001a; for specific
discussions of West's text: 61n., 90n., 237n., 266n., 280n., 285n., 291n.,
298n., 344n., 459n., 465n. and 493–4n.

181 G. Nagy 1996a, 1996b and 2004.

182 Cassio 2002: 114.

183 Van Thiel 1996 is exemplary in this respect.

184 Jensen 1980 argues that ‘the Iliad and the Odyssey were dictated and
written at the court of Pisistratus’ (p. 159). The Athenians themselves,
however, thought that the Homeric poems originated in Ionia, i.e. the coast
of Asia Minor, and had been brought to Athens by the Homeridae: for
ancient discussions of the origins of the poems, see Graziosi 2002: 201–34.
The earliest authors known to have discussed the Homeric poems are
Theagenes of Rhegium, Xenophanes of Colophon and Heraclitus of
Ephesus, not one of them Athenian.

185 For a striking instance of the Homeric narrator using a late form even
when an earlier one can be restored, see 344n. (κακομηχάνου, ὀκρυοέσσης).

186 S. West 1967.

187 Although there are differences between early citations and the
Homeric vulgate (as emphasised, for example, by Haslam 1997, Dué 2001a
and 2001b), they do not seem to us to testify to the existence of radically
divergent Iliads. The Iliad may be called a multiform text in the archaic and
classical period, but it is important to emphasise that variations seem to be
small scale.

188 Cassio 2002: 124. The rhapsodes prided themselves on accurate

performance (Graziosi 2004), but we do not know against what standards
they judged their own faithfulness to Homer's text.
189 E.g. M. L. West 2001a; Rengakos 2002; Janko 2002: 658–62; G. Nagy
2003; M. L. West 2004. Zenodotus’ readings are especially controversial.

190 Fantuzzi 2001: 174–7.

191 As argued by Rengakos 1993.

192 The papyri are listed in M. L. West 2001a: 88–138. The fullest list of
manuscripts can be found in Allen 1931, though his work has been
criticised for containing numerous inaccuracies; see van Thiel 1996: VII–
VIII. For a more sympathetic view of Allen's contribution, see Haslam 1997.
ΙΛΙΑΔΟΣ Ζ
 ΙΛΙΑΔΟΣ Ζ

Τρώων δ᾽ οἰώθη καὶ Ἀχαιῶν ϕύλοπις αἰνή.

πολλὰ δ᾽ ἂρ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθ᾽ ἴθυσε μάχη πεδίοιο
ἀλλήλων ἰθυνομένων χαλκήρεα δοῦρα
μεσσηγὺς Σιμόεντος ἰδὲ Ξάνθοιο ῥοάων.
Αἴας δὲ πρῶτος Τελαμώνιος ἕρκος Ἀχαιῶν, 5
Τρώων ῥῆξε ϕάλαγγα, ϕόως δ᾽ ἑτάροισιν ἔθηκεν,
ἄνδρα βαλὼν ὃς ἄριστος ἐνὶ Θρήικεσσι τέτυκτο,
υἱὸν Ἐϋσσώρου Ἀκάμαντ᾽ ἠΰν τε μέγαν τε.
τόν ῥ᾽ ἔβαλε πρῶτος κόρυθος ϕάλον ἱπποδασείης,
ἐν δὲ μετώπωι πῆξε· πέρησε δ᾽ ἂρ ὀστέον εἴσω 10
αἰχμὴ χαλκείη, τὸν δὲ σκότος ὄσσ᾽ ἐκάλυψεν.
῎Αξυλον δ᾽ ἂρ ἔπεϕνε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης
Τευθρανίδην, ὃς ἔναιεν ἐϋκτιμένηι ἐν Ἀρίσβηι
ἀϕνειὸς βιότοιο, ϕίλος δ᾽ ἦν ἀνθρώποισι.
πάντας γὰρ ϕιλέεσκεν ὁδῶι ἔπι οἰκία ναίων. 15
ἀλλά οἱ οὔ τις τῶν γε τότ᾽ ἤρκεσε λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον
πρόσθεν ὑπαντιάσας, ἀλλ᾽ ἄμϕω θυμὸν ἀπηύρα,
αὐτὸν καὶ θεράποντα Καλήσιον, ὅς ῥα τόθ᾽ ἵππων
ἔσκεν ὑϕηνίοχος· τὼ δ᾽ ἄμϕω γαῖαν ἐδύτην.
Δρῆσον δ᾽ Εὐρύαλος καὶ Ὀϕέλτιον ἐξενάριξε· 20
βῆ δὲ μετ᾽ Αἴσηπον καὶ Πήδασον, οὕς ποτε νύμϕη
νηῒς Ἀβαρβαρέη τέκ᾽ ἀμύμονι Βουκολίωνι.
Βουκολίων δ᾽ ἦν υἱὸς ἀγαυοῦ Λαομέδοντος
πρεσβύτατος γενεῆι, σκότιον δέ ἑ γείνατο μήτηρ·
ποιμαίνων δ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ὄεσσι μίγη ϕιλότητι καὶ εὐνῆι· 25
ἣ δ᾽ ὑποκυσαμένη διδυμάονε γείνατο παῖδε.
καὶ μὲν τῶν ὑπέλυσε μένος καὶ ϕαίδιμα γυῖα
Μηκιστηϊάδης καὶ ἀπ᾽ ὤμων τεύχε᾽ ἐσύλα.
Ἀστύαλον δ᾽ ἂρ ἔπεϕνε μενεπτόλεμος Πολυποίτης·
Πιδύτην δ᾽ Ὀδυσεὺς Περκώσιον ἐξενάριξεν 30
ἔγχεϊ χαλκείωι, Τεῦκρος δ᾽ Ἀρετάονα δῖον.
Ἀντίλοχος δ᾽ ῎Αβληρον ἐνήρατο δουρὶ ϕαεινῶι
Νεστορίδης, Ἔλατον δὲ ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων·
ναῖε δὲ Σατνιόεντος ἐϋρρείταο παρ᾽ ὄχθας
Πήδασον αἰπεινήν. Φύλακον δ᾽ ἕλε Λήϊτος ἥρως 35
ϕεύγοντ᾽· Εὐρύπυλος δὲ Μελάνθιον ἐξενάριξεν.
῎Αδρηστον δ᾽ ἂρ ἔπειτα βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
ζωὸν ἕλ᾽· ἵππω γάρ οἱ ἀτυζομένω πεδίοιο
ὄζωι ἐνὶ βλαϕθέντε μυρικίνωι ἀγκύλον ἅρμα
ἄξαντ᾽ ἐν πρώτωι ῥυμῶι αὐτὼ μὲν ἐβήτην 40
πρὸς πόλιν, ἧι περ οἱ ἄλλοι ἀτυζόμενοι ϕοβέοντο,
αὐτὸς δ᾽ ἐκ δίϕροιο παρὰ τροχὸν ἐξεκυλίσθη
πρηνὴς ἐν κονίηισιν ἐπὶ στόμα· πὰρ δέ οἱ ἔστη
Ἀτρείδης Μενέλαος ἔχων δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος.
῎Αδρηστος δ᾽ ἂρ ἔπειτα λαβὼν ἐλίσσετο γούνων· 45
“ζώγρει, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, σὺ δ᾽ ἄξια δέξαι ἄποινα.
πολλὰ δ᾽ ἐν ἀϕνειοῦ πατρὸς κειμήλια κεῖται,
χαλκός τε χρυσός τε πολύκμητός τε σίδηρος·
τῶν κέν τοι χαρίσαιτο πατὴρ ἀπερείσι᾽ ἄποινα,
εἴ κεν ἐμὲ ζωὸν πεπύθοιτ᾽ ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν.” 50
ὣς ϕάτο, τῶι δ᾽ ἄρα θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθε·
καὶ δή μιν τάχ᾽ ἔμελλε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν
δώσειν ὧι θεράποντι καταξέμεν. ἀλλ᾽ Ἀγαμέμνων
ἀντίος ἦλθε θέων, καὶ ὁμοκλήσας ἔπος ηὔδα·
“ὦ πέπον ὦ Μενέλαε, τίη δὲ σὺ κήδεαι οὕτως 55
ἀνδρῶν; ἦ σοὶ ἄριστα πεποίηται κατὰ οἶκον
πρὸς Τρώων; τῶν μή τις ὑπεκϕύγοι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον
χεῖράς θ᾽ ἡμετέρας· μηδ᾽ ὅν τινα γαστέρι μήτηρ
κοῦρον ἐόντα ϕέροι, μηδ᾽ ὃς ϕύγοι, ἀλλ᾽ ἅμα πάντες
᾽Ιίου ἐξαπολοίατ᾽ ἀκήδεστοι καὶ ἄϕαντοι.” 60
ὣς εἰπὼν ἔτρεψεν ἀδελϕειοῦ ϕρένας ἥρως,
αἴσιμα παρειπών· ὃ δ᾽ ἀπὸ ἕθεν ὤσατο χειρὶ
ἥρω᾽ ῎Αδρηστον. τὸν δὲ κρείων Ἀγαμέμνων
οὖτα κατὰ λαπάρην· ὃ δ᾽ ἀνετράπετ᾽, Ἀτρείδης δὲ
λὰξ ἐν στήθεσι βὰς ἐξέσπασε μείλινον ἔγχος. 65
Νέστωρ δ᾽ Ἀργείοισιν ἐκέκλετο μακρὸν ἀΰσας·
“ὦ ϕίλοι ἥρωες Δαναοί, θεράποντες Ἄρηος,
μή τις νῦν ἐνάρων ἐπιβαλλόμενος μετόπισθε
μιμνέτω, ὥς κεν πλεῖστα ϕέρων ἐπὶ νῆας ἵκηται,
ἀλλ᾽ ἄνδρας κτείνωμεν· ἔπειτα δὲ καὶ τὰ ἕκηλοι 70
νεκροὺς ἂμ πεδίον συλήσετε τεθνειῶτας.”
ὣς εἰπὼν ὤτρυνε μένος καὶ θυμὸν ἑκάστου.
ἔνθά κεν αὖτε Τρῶες ἀρηϊϕίλων ὑπ᾽ Ἀχαιῶν
Ἴλιον εἰσανέβησαν ἀναλκείηισι δαμέντες,
εἰ μὴ ἂρ Αἰνείαι τε καὶ Ἕκτορι εἶπε παραστὰς 75
Πριαμίδης Ἕλενος, οἰωνοπόλων ὄχ᾽ ἄριστος·
“Αἰνεία τε καὶ Ἕκτορ, ἐπεὶ πόνος ὔμμι μάλιστα
Τρώων καὶ Λυκίων ἐγκέκλιται, οὕνεκ᾽ ἄριστοι
πᾶσαν ἐπ᾽ ἰθύν ἐστε μάχεσθαί τε ϕρονέειν τε,
στῆτ᾽ αὐτοῦ καὶ λαὸν ἐρυκάκετε πρὸ πυλάων 80
πάντηι ἐποιχόμενοι, πρὶν αὖτ᾽ ἐν χερσὶ γυναικῶν
ϕεύγοντας πεσέειν, δηΐοισι δὲ χάρμα γενέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί κε ϕάλαγγας ἐποτρύνητον ἁπάσας,
ἡμεῖς μὲν Δαναοῖσι μαχησόμεθ᾽ αὖθι μένοντες,
καὶ μάλα τειρόμενοί περ· ἀναγκαίη γὰρ ἐπείγει. 85
Ἕκτορ, ἀτὰρ σὺ πόλινδε μετέρχεο, εἰπὲ δ᾽ ἔπειτα
μητέρι σῆι καὶ ἐμῆι· ἣ δὲ ξυνάγουσα γεραιὰς
νηὸν Ἀθηναίης γλαυκώπιδος ἐν πόλει ἄκρηι,
οἴξασα κληῗδι θύρας ἱεροῖο δόμοιο,
πέπλον, ὅς οἱ δοκέει χαριέστατος ἠδὲ μέγιστος 90
εἶναι ἐνὶ μεγάρωι καί οἱ πολὺ ϕίλτατος αὐτῆι,
θεῖναι Ἀθηναίης ἐπὶ γούνασιν ἠϋκόμοιο,
καί οἱ ὑποσχέσθαι δυοκαίδεκα βοῦς ἐνὶ νηῶι
ἤνις ἠκέστας ἱερευσέμεν, αἴ κ᾽ ἐλεήσηι
ἄστυ τε καὶ Τρώων ἀλόχους καὶ νήπια τέκνα, 95
αἴ κεν Τυδέος υἱὸν ἀπόσχηι ᾽Ιλίου ἱρῆς
ἄγριον αἰχμητήν, κρατερὸν μήστωρα ϕόβοιο,
ὃν δὴ ἐγὼ κάρτιστον Ἀχαιῶν ϕημὶ γενέσθαι.
οὐδ᾽ Ἀχιλῆά ποθ᾽ ὧδέ γ᾽ ἐδείδιμεν ὄρχαμον ἀνδρῶν,
ὅν περ ϕασὶ θεᾶς ἐξέμμεναι· ἀλλ᾽ ὅδε λίην 100
μαίνεται, οὐδέ τίς οἱ δύναται μένος ἰσοϕαρίζειν.”
ὣς ἔϕαθ᾽, Ἕκτωρ δ᾽ οὔ τι κασιγνήτωι ἀπίθησεν.
αὐτίκα δ᾽ ἐξ ὀχέων σὺν τεύχεσιν ἆλτο χαμᾶζε,
πάλλων δ᾽ ὀξέα δοῦρα κατὰ στρατὸν ὤιχετο πάντηι
ὀτρύνων μαχέσασθαι, ἔγειρε δὲ ϕύλοπιν αἰνήν· 105
οἳ δ᾽ ἐλελίχθησαν καὶ ἐναντίοι ἔσταν Ἀχαιῶν.
Ἀργεῖοι δ᾽ ὑπεχώρησαν, λῆξαν δὲ ϕόνοιο·
ϕὰν δέ τιν᾽ ἀθανάτων ἐξ οὐρανοῦ ἀστερόεντος
Τρωσὶν ἀλεξήσοντα κατελθέμεν, ὡς ἐλέλιχθεν.
Ἕκτωρ δὲ Τρώεσσιν ἐκέκλετο μακρὸν ἀΰσας· 110
“Τρῶες ὑπέρθυμοι τηλεκλειτοί τ᾽ ἐπίκουροι,
ἀνέρες ἔστε, ϕίλοι, μνήσασθε δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς,
ὄϕρ᾽ ἂν ἐγὼ βείω προτὶ Ἴλιον ἠδὲ γέρουσιν
εἴπω βουλευτῆισι καὶ ἡμετέρηις ἀλόχοισι
δαίμοσιν ἀρήσασθαι, ὑποσχέσθαι δ᾽ ἑκατόμβας.” 115
ὣς ἄρα ϕωνήσας ἀπέβη κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ·
ἀμϕὶ δέ μιν σϕυρὰ τύπτε καὶ αὐχένα δέρμα κελαινόν,
ἄντυξ ἣ πυμάτη θέεν ἀσπίδος ὀμϕαλοέσσης.
Γλαῦκος δ᾽ ῾Ιππολόχοιο πάϊς καὶ Τυδέος υἱὸς
ἐς μέσον ἀμϕοτέρων συνίτην μεμαῶτε μάχεσθαι. 120
οἳ δ᾽ ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦσαν ἐπ᾽ ἀλλήλοισιν ἰόντες,
τὸν πρότερος προσέειπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης·
“τίς δὲ σύ ἐσσι, ϕέριστε, καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων;
οὐ μὲν γάρ ποτ᾽ ὄπωπα μάχηι ἐνὶ κυδιανείρηι
τὸ πρίν· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε πολὺ προβέβηκας ἁπάντων 125
σῶι θάρσει, ὅτ᾽ ἐμὸν δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος ἔμεινας.
δυστήνων δέ τε παῖδες ἐμῶι μένει ἀντιόωσιν.
εἰ δέ τις ἀθανάτων γε κατ᾽ οὐρανοῦ εἰλήλουθας,
οὐκ ἂν ἔγωγε θεοῖσιν ἐπουρανίοισι μαχοίμην.
οὐδὲ γὰρ οὐδὲ Δρύαντος υἱὸς κρατερὸς Λυκόοργος 130
δὴν ἦν, ὅς ῥα θεοῖσιν ἐπουρανίοισιν ἔριζεν·
ὅς ποτε μαινομένοιο Διωνύσοιο τιθήνας
σεῦε κατ᾽ ἠγάθεον Νυσήϊον, αἳ δ᾽ ἅμα πᾶσαι
θύσθλα χαμαὶ κατέχευαν, ὑπ᾽ ἀνδροϕόνοιο Λυκούργου
θεινόμεναι βουπλῆγι. Διώνυσος δὲ ϕοβηθεὶς 135
δύσεθ᾽ ἁλὸς κατὰ κῦμα, Θέτις δ᾽ ὑπεδέξατο κόλπωι
δειδιότα· κρατερὸς γὰρ ἔχε τρόμος ἀνδρὸς ὁμοκλῆι.
τῶι μὲν ἔπειτ᾽ ὀδύσαντο θεοὶ ῥεῖα ζώοντες,
καί μιν τυϕλὸν ἔθηκε Κρόνου παῖς· οὐδ᾽ ἂρ ἔτι δὴν
ἦν, ἐπεὶ ἀθανάτοισιν ἀπήχθετο πᾶσι θεοῖσιν. 140
οὐδ᾽ ἂν ἐγὼ μακάρεσσι θεοῖς ἐθέλοιμι μάχεσθαι.
εἰ δέ τίς ἐσσι βροτῶν, οἳ ἀρούρης καρπὸν ἔδουσιν,
ἆσσον ἴθ᾽, ὥς κεν θᾶσσον ὀλέθρου πείραθ᾽ ἵκηαι.”
τὸν δ᾽ αὖθ᾽ ῾Ιππολόχοιο προσηύδα ϕαίδιμος υἱός·
“Τυδείδη μεγάθυμε, τίη γενεὴν ἐρεείνεις; 145
οἵη περ ϕύλλων γενεή, τοίη δὲ καὶ ἀνδρῶν.
ϕύλλα τὰ μέν τ᾽ ἄνεμος χαμάδις χέει, ἄλλα δέ θ᾽ ὕλη
τηλεθόωσα ϕύει, ἔαρος δ᾽ ἐπιγίνεται ὥρη·
ὣς ἀνδρῶν γενεὴ ἣ μὲν ϕύει ἣ δ᾽ ἀπολήγει.
εἰ δ᾽ ἐθέλεις καὶ ταῦτα δαήμεναι, ὄϕρ᾽ εὖ εἰδῆις 150
ἡμετέρην γενεήν, πολλοὶ δέ μιν ἄνδρες ἴσασιν,
ἔστι πόλις Ἐϕύρη μυχῶι ῎Αργεος ἱπποβότοιο,
ἔνθα δὲ Σίσυϕος ἔσκεν, ὃ κέρδιστος γένετ᾽ ἀνδρῶν,
Σίσυϕος Αἰολίδης· ὃ δ᾽ ἄρα Γλαῦκον τέκεθ᾽ υἱόν·
αὐτὰρ Γλαῦκος ἔτικτεν ἀμύμονα Βελλεροϕόντην. 155
τῶι δὲ θεοὶ κάλλος τε καὶ ἠνορέην ἐρατεινὴν
ὤπασαν· αὐτάρ οἱ Προῖτος κάκ᾽ ἐμήσατο θυμῶι,
ὅς ῥ᾽ ἐκ δήμου ἔλασσεν, ἐπεὶ πολὺ ϕέρτερος ἦεν,
Ἀργείων· Ζεὺς γάρ οἱ ὑπὸ σκήπτρωι ἐδάμασσε.
τῶι δὲ γυνὴ Προίτου ἐπεμήνατο δῖ᾽ Ἄντεια 160
κρυπταδίηι ϕιλότητι μιγήμεναι· ἀλλὰ τὸν οὔ τι
πεῖθ᾽ ἀγαθὰ ϕρονέοντα δαΐϕρονα Βελλεροϕόντην.
ἣ δὲ ψευσαμένη Προῖτον βασιλῆα προσηύδα·
‘τεθναίης, ὦ Προῖτ᾽, ἢ κάκτανε Βελλεροϕόντην,
ὅς μ᾽ ἔθελεν ϕιλότητι μιγήμεναι οὐκ ἐθελούσηι.’ 165
ὣς ϕάτο· τὸν δὲ ἄνακτα χόλος λάβεν οἷον ἄκουσε.
κτεῖναι μέν ῥ᾽ ἀλέεινε, σεβάσσατο γὰρ τό γε θυμῶι,
πέμπε δέ μιν Λυκίηνδε, πόρεν δ᾽ ὅ γε σήματα λυγρὰ
γράψας ἐν πίνακι πτυκτῶι θυμοϕθόρα πολλά,
δεῖξαι δ᾽ ἠνώγει ὧι πενθερῶι ὄϕρ᾽ ἀπόλοιτο. 170
αὐτὰρ ὃ βῆ Λυκίηνδε θεῶν ὑπ᾽ ἀμύμονι πομπῆι.
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δὴ Λυκίην ἷξε Ξάνθον τε ῥέοντα,
προϕρονέως μιν τῖεν ἄναξ Λυκίης εὐρείης.
ἐννῆμαρ ξείνισσε καὶ ἐννέα βοῦς ἱέρευσεν.
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δὴ δεκάτη ἐϕάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς, 175
καὶ τότε μιν ἐρέεινε καὶ ἤιτεε σῆμα ἰδέσθαι,
ὅττι ῥά οἱ γαμβροῖο παρὰ Προίτοιο ϕέροιτο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σῆμα κακὸν παρεδέξατο γαμβροῦ,
πρῶτον μέν ῥα Χίμαιραν ἀμαιμακέτην ἐκέλευσε
πεϕνέμεν· ἣ δ᾽ ἂρ ἔην θεῖον γένος οὐδ᾽ ἀνθρώπων, 180
πρόσθε λέων, ὄπιθεν δὲ δράκων, μέσση δὲ χίμαιρα,
δεινὸν ἀποπνείουσα πυρὸς μένος αἰθομένοιο.
καὶ τὴν μὲν κατέπεϕνε θεῶν τεράεσσι πιθήσας.
δεύτερον αὖ Σολύμοισι μαχέσσατο κυδαλίμοισι·
καρτίστην δὴ τήν γε μάχην ϕάτο δύμεναι ἀνδρῶν. 185
τὸ τρίτον αὖ κατέπεϕνεν Ἀμαζόνας ἀντιανείρας.
τῶι δ᾽ ἂρ ἀνερχομένωι πυκινὸν δόλον ἄλλον ὕϕαινε·
κρίνας ἐκ Λυκίης εὐρείης ϕῶτας ἀρίστους
εἷσε λόχον. τοὶ δ᾽ οὔ τι πάλιν οἶκόνδε νέοντο·
πάντας γὰρ κατέπεϕνεν ἀμύμων Βελλεροϕόντης. 190
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δὴ γίνωσκε θεοῦ γόνον ἠῢν ἐόντα,
αὐτοῦ μιν κατέρυκε, δίδου δ᾽ ὅ γε θυγατέρα ἥν,
δῶκε δέ οἱ τιμῆς βασιληΐδος ἥμισυ πάσης·
καὶ μέν οἱ Λύκιοι τέμενος τάμον ἔξοχον ἄλλων
καλὸν ϕυταλιῆς καὶ ἀρούρης, ὄϕρα νέμοιτο. 195
ἣ δ᾽ ἔτεκε τρία τέκνα δαΐϕρονι Βελλεροϕόντηι
Ἴσανδρόν τε καὶ ῾Ιππόλοχον καὶ Λαοδάμειαν.
Λαοδαμείηι μὲν παρελέξατο μητίετα Ζεύς,
ἣ δ᾽ ἔτεκ᾽ ἀντίθεον Σαρπηδόνα χαλκοκορυστήν.
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δὴ καὶ κεῖνος ἀπήχθετο πᾶσι θεοῖσιν, 200
ἤτοι ὃ κὰπ πεδίον τὸ Ἀλήϊον οἶος ἀλᾶτο,
ὃν θυμὸν κατέδων, πάτον ἀνθρώπων ἀλεείνων·
Ἴσανδρον δέ οἱ υἱὸν ῎Αρης ἆτος πολέμοιο
μαρνάμενον Σολύμοισι κατέκτανε κυδαλίμοισι·
τὴν δὲ χολωσαμένη χρυσήνιος ῎Αρτεμις ἔκτα. 205
῾Ιππόλοχος δέ μ᾽ ἔτικτε, καὶ ἐκ τοῦ ϕημὶ γενέσθαι·
πέμπε δέ μ᾽ ἐς Τροίην, καί μοι μάλα πόλλ᾽ ἐπέτελλεν,
αἰὲν ἀριστεύειν καὶ ὑπείροχον ἔμμεναι ἄλλων,
μηδὲ γένος πατέρων αἰσχυνέμεν, οἳ μέγ᾽ ἄριστοι
ἔν τ᾽ Ἐϕύρηι ἐγένοντο καὶ ἐν Λυκίηι εὐρείηι. 210
ταύτης τοι γενεῆς τε καὶ αἵματος εὔχομαι εἶναι.”
ὣς ϕάτο, γήθησεν δὲ βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης.
ἔγχος μὲν κατέπηξεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρηι,
αὐτὰρ ὃ μειλιχίοισι προσηύδα ποιμένα λαῶν·
“ἦ ῥά νύ μοι ξεῖνος πατρώϊός ἐσσι παλαιός· 215
Οἰνεὺς γάρ ποτε δῖος ἀμύμονα Βελλεροϕόντην
ξείνισ᾽ ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐείκοσιν ἤματ᾽ ἐρύξας.
οἳ δὲ καὶ ἀλλήλοισι πόρον ξεινήϊα καλά·
Οἰνεὺς μὲν ζωστῆρα δίδου ϕοίνικι ϕαεινόν,
Βελλεροϕόντης δὲ χρύσεον δέπας ἀμϕικύπελλον· 220
καί μιν ἐγὼ κατέλειπον ἰὼν ἐν δώμασ᾽ ἐμοῖσι.
Τυδέα δ᾽ οὐ μέμνημαι, ἐπεί μ᾽ ἔτι τυτθὸν ἐόντα
κάλλιϕ᾽, ὅτ᾽ ἐν Θήβηισιν ἀπώλετο λαὸς Ἀχαιῶν.
τῶ νῦν σοὶ μὲν ἐγὼ ξεῖνος ϕίλος ῎Αργεϊ μέσσωι
εἰμί, σὺ δ᾽ ἐν Λυκίηι, ὅτε κεν τῶν δῆμον ἵκωμαι. 225
ἔγχεα δ᾽ ἀλλήλων ἀλεώμεθα καὶ δι᾽ ὁμίλου·
πολλοὶ μὲν γὰρ ἐμοὶ Τρῶες κλειτοί τ᾽ ἐπίκουροι
κτείνειν, ὅν κε θεός γε πόρηι καὶ ποσσὶ κιχείω,
πολλοὶ δ᾽ αὖ σοὶ Ἀχαιοὶ ἐναιρέμεν, ὅν κε δύνηαι.
τεύχεα δ᾽ ἀλλήλοις ἐπαμείψομεν, ὄϕρα καὶ οἵδε 230
γνῶσιν ὅτι ξεῖνοι πατρώϊοι εὐχόμεθ᾽ εἶναι.”
ὣς ἄρα ϕωνήσαντε, καθ᾽ ἵππων ἀΐξαντε
χεῖράς τ᾽ ἀλλήλων λαβέτην καὶ πιστώσαντο.
ἔνθ᾽ αὖτε Γλαύκωι Κρονίδης ϕρένας ἐξέλετο Ζεύς,
ὃς πρὸς Τυδείδην Διομήδεα τεύχε᾽ ἄμειβε 235
χρύσεα χαλκείων, ἑκατόμβοι᾽ ἐννεαβοίων.
Ἕκτωρ δ᾽ ὡς Σκαιάς τε πύλας καὶ ϕηγὸν ἵκανεν,
ἀμϕ᾽ ἄρα μιν Τρώων ἄλοχοι θέον ἠδὲ θύγατρες
εἰρόμεναι παῖδάς τε κασιγνήτους τε ἔτας τε
καὶ πόσιας. ὃ δ᾽ ἔπειτα θεοῖς εὔχεσθαι ἀνώγει 240
πάσας ἑξείης· πολλῆισι δὲ κήδε᾽ ἐϕῆπτο.
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δὴ Πριάμοιο δόμον περικαλλέ᾽ ἵκανε,
ξεστῆις αἰθούσηισι τετυγμένον – αὐτὰρ ἐν αὐτῶι
πεντήκοντ᾽ ἔνεσαν θάλαμοι ξεστοῖο λίθοιο,
πλησίοι ἀλλήλων δεδμημένοι, ἔνθα δὲ παῖδες 245
κοιμῶντο Πριάμοιο παρὰ μνηστῆις ἀλόχοισι·
κουράων δ᾽ ἑτέρωθεν ἐναντίοι ἔνδοθεν αὐλῆς
δώδεκ᾽ ἔσαν τέγεοι θάλαμοι ξεστοῖο λίθοιο,
πλησίοι ἀλλήλων δεδμημένοι, ἔνθα δὲ γαμβροὶ
κοιμῶντο Πριάμοιο παρ᾽ αἰδοίηις ἀλόχοισιν – 250
ἔνθά οἱ ἠπιόδωρος ἐναντίη ἤλυθε μήτηρ,
Λαοδίκην ἐσάγουσα θυγατρῶν εἶδος ἀρίστην·
ἔν τ᾽ ἄρα οἱ ϕῦ χειρὶ ἔπος τ᾽ ἔϕατ᾽ ἔκ τ᾽ ὀνόμαζε·
“τέκνον, τίπτε λιπὼν πόλεμον θρασὺν εἰλήλουθας;
ἦ μάλα δὴ τείρουσι δυσώνυμοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν 255
μαρνάμενοι περὶ ἄστυ, σὲ δ᾽ ἐνθάδε θυμὸς ἀνῆκεν
ἐλθόντ᾽ ἐξ ἄκρης πόλιος Διὶ χεῖρας ἀνασχεῖν.
ἀλλὰ μέν᾽, ὄϕρα κέ τοι μελιηδέα οἶνον ἐνείκω,
ὡς σπείσηις Διὶ πατρὶ καὶ ἄλλοις ἀθανάτοισι
πρῶτον, ἔπειτα δὲ καὐτὸς ὀνήσεαι αἴ κε πίηισθα. 260
ἀνδρὶ δὲ κεκμηῶτι μένος μέγα οἶνος ἀέξει,
ὡς τύνη κέκμηκας ἀμύνων σοῖσιν ἔτηισι.”
* τὴν δ᾽ ἠμείβετ᾽ ἔπειτα μέγας κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ·
“μή μοι οἶνον ἄειρε μελίϕρονα, πότνια μῆτερ,
μή μ᾽ ἀπογυιώσηις μένεος, ἀλκῆς τε λάθωμαι. 265
χερσὶ δ᾽ ἀνίπτοισιν Διὶ λείβειν αἴθοπα οἶνον
ἅζομαι· οὐδέ πηι ἐστὶ κελαινεϕέϊ Κρονίωνι
αἵματι καὶ λύθρωι πεπαλαγμένον εὐχετάασθαι.
ἀλλὰ σύ γε πρὸς νηὸν Ἀθηναίης ἀγελείης
ἔρχεο σὺν θυέεσσιν ἀολλίσσασα γεραιάς· 270
πέπλον δ᾽, ὅς τίς τοι χαριέστατος ἠδὲ μέγιστος
ἐστὶν ἐνὶ μεγάρωι καί τοι πολὺ ϕίλτατος αὐτῆι,
τὸν θὲς Ἀθηναίης ἐπὶ γούνασιν ἠϋκόμοιο,
καί οἱ ὑποσχέσθαι δυοκαίδεκα βοῦς ἐνὶ νηῶι
ἤνις ἠκέστας ἱερευσέμεν, αἴ κ᾽ ἐλεήσηι 275
ἄστυ τε καὶ Τρώων ἀλόχους καὶ νήπια τέκνα,
αἴ κεν Τυδέος υἱὸν ἀπόσχηι ᾽Ιλίου ἱρῆς,
ἄγριον αἰχμητήν, κρατερὸν μήστωρα ϕόβοιο.
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν πρὸς νηὸν Ἀθηναίης ἀγελείης
ἔρχευ, ἐγὼ δὲ Πάριν μετελεύσομαι ὄϕρα καλέσσω 280
αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέληισ᾽ εἰπόντος ἀκουέμεν. ὥς κέ οἱ αὖθι
γαῖα χάνοι· μέγα γάρ μιν Ὀλύμπιος ἔτρεϕε πῆμα
Τρωσί τε καὶ Πριάμωι μεγαλήτορι τοῖό τε παισίν.
εἰ κεῖνόν γε ἴδοιμι κατελθόντ᾽ ῎Αϊδος εἴσω,
ϕαίην κεν ϕρέν᾽ ἀτέρπου ὀϊζύος ἐκλελαθέσθαι.” 285
* ὣς ἔϕαθ᾽, ἣ δὲ μολοῦσα ποτὶ μέγαρ᾽ ἀμϕιπόλοισι
κέκλετο· ταὶ δ᾽ ἂρ ἀόλλισσαν κατὰ ἄστυ γεραιάς.
αὐτὴ δ᾽ ἐς θάλαμον κατεβήσετο κηώεντα,
ἔνθ᾽ ἔσαν οἱ πέπλοι παμποίκιλοι, ἔργα γυναικῶν
Σιδονίων, τὰς αὐτὸς Ἀλέξανδρος θεοειδὴς 290
ἤγαγε Σιδονίηθεν, ἐπιπλὼς εὐρέα πόντον,
τὴν ὁδὸν ἣν Ἑλένην περ ἀνήγαγεν εὐπατέρειαν.
τῶν ἕν᾽ ἀειραμένη Ἑκάβη ϕέρε δῶρον Ἀθήνηι,
ὃς κάλλιστος ἔην ποικίλμασιν ἠδὲ μέγιστος,
ἀστὴρ δ᾽ ὣς ἀπέλαμπεν· ἔκειτο δὲ νείατος ἄλλων. 295
βῆ δ᾽ ἰέναι, πολλαὶ δὲ μετεσσεύοντο γεραιαί.
* αἳ δ᾽ ὅτε νηὸν ἵκανον Ἀθήνης ἐν πόλει ἄκρηι,
τῆισι θύρας ὤϊξε Θεανὼ καλλιπάρηος
Κισσηΐς, ἄλοχος Ἀντήνορος ἱπποδάμοιο·
τὴν γὰρ Τρῶες ἔθηκαν Ἀθηναίης ἱέρειαν. 300
αἳ δ᾽ ὀλολυγῆι πᾶσαι Ἀθήνηι χεῖρας ἀνέσχον·
ἣ δ᾽ ἄρα πέπλον ἑλοῦσα Θεανὼ καλλιπάρηος
θῆκεν Ἀθηναίης ἐπὶ γούνασιν ἠϋκόμοιο.
εὐχομένη δ᾽ ἠρᾶτο Διὸς κούρηι μεγάλοιο·
“πότνι᾽ Ἀθηναίη, ἐρυσίπτολι, δῖα θεάων, 305
ἆξον δὴ ἔγχος Διομήδεος, ἠδὲ καὶ αὐτὸν
πρηνέα δὸς πεσέειν Σκαιῶν προπάροιθε πυλάων,
ὄϕρα τοι αὐτίκα νῦν δυοκαίδεκα βοῦς ἐνὶ νηῶι
ἤνις ἠκέστας ἱερεύσομεν, αἴ κ᾽ ἐλεήσηις
ἄστυ τε καὶ Τρώων ἀλόχους καὶ νήπια τέκνα.” 310
ὣς ἔϕατ᾽ εὐχομένη, ἀνένευε δὲ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
ὣς αἳ μέν ῥ᾽ εὔχοντο Διὸς κούρηι μεγάλοιο·
Ἕκτωρ δὲ πρὸς δώματ᾽ Ἀλεξάνδροιο βεβήκει
καλά, τά ῥ᾽ αὐτὸς ἔτευξε σὺν ἀνδράσιν οἳ τότ᾽ ἄριστοι
ἦσαν ἐνὶ Τροίηι ἐριβώλακι τέκτονες ἄνδρες, 315
οἵ οἱ ἐποίησαν θάλαμον καὶ δῶμα καὶ αὐλὴν
ἐγγύθι τε Πριάμοιο καὶ Ἕκτορος ἐν πόλει ἄκρηι.
ἔνθ᾽ Ἕκτωρ εἰσῆλθε Διὶ ϕίλος, ἐν δ᾽ ἄρα χειρὶ
ἔγχος ἔχ᾽ ἑνδεκάπηχυ· πάροιθε δὲ λάμπετο δουρὸς
αἰχμὴ χαλκείη, περὶ δὲ χρύσεος θέε πόρκης. 320
τὸν δ᾽ εὗρ᾽ ἐν θαλάμωι περικαλλέα τεύχε᾽ ἕποντα,
ἀσπίδα καὶ θώρηκα, καὶ ἀγκύλα τόξ᾽ ἁϕόωντα·
Ἀργείη δ᾽ Ἑλένη μετ᾽ ἄρα δμωιῆισι γυναιξὶν
ἧστο καὶ ἀμϕιπόλοισι περικλυτὰ ἔργα κέλευε.
τὸν δ᾽ Ἕκτωρ νείκεσσεν ἰδὼν αἰσχροῖς ἐπέεσσι· 325
“δαιμόνι᾽ οὐ μὲν καλὰ χόλον τόνδ᾽ ἔνθεο θυμῶι.
λαοὶ μὲν ϕθινύθουσι περὶ πτόλιν αἰπύ τε τεῖχος
μαρνάμενοι, σέο δ᾽ εἵνεκ᾽ ἀϋτή τε πτόλεμός τε
ἄστυ τόδ᾽ ἀμϕιδέδηε· σὺ δ᾽ ἂν μαχέσαιο καὶ ἄλλωι,
εἴ τινά που μεθιέντα ἴδοις στυγεροῦ πολέμοιο. 330
ἀλλ᾽ ἄνα μὴ τάχα ἄστυ πυρὸς δηΐοιο θέρηται.”
τὸν δ᾽ αὖτε προσέειπεν Ἀλέξανδρος θεοειδής·
“Ἕκτορ ἐπεί με κατ᾽ αἶσαν ἐνείκεσας οὐδ᾽ ὑπὲρ αἶσαν,
τοὔνεκά τοι ἐρέω· σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·
οὔ τοι ἐγὼ Τρώων τόσσον χόλωι οὐδὲ νεμέσσι 335
ἥμην ἐν θαλάμωι, ἔθελον δ᾽ ἄχεϊ προτραπέσθαι.
νῦν δέ με παρειποῦσ᾽ ἄλοχος μαλακοῖς ἐπέεσσιν
ὥρμησ᾽ ἐς πόλεμον· δοκέει δέ μοι ὧδε καὶ αὐτῶι
λώϊον ἔσσεσθαι· νίκη δ᾽ ἐπαμείβεται ἄνδρας.
ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν ἐπίμεινον, ἀρήϊα τεύχεα δύω· 340
ἢ ἴθ᾽, ἐγὼ δὲ μέτειμι· κιχήσεσθαι δέ σ᾽ ὀΐω.”
ὣς ϕάτο, τὸν δ᾽ οὔ τι προσέϕη κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ.
τὸν δ᾽ Ἑλένη μύθοισι προσηύδα μειλιχίοισι·
“δᾶερ ἐμεῖο κυνὸς κακομηχάνου ὀκρυοέσσης,
ὥς μ᾽ ὄϕελ᾽ ἤματι τῶι, ὅτε με πρῶτον τέκε μήτηρ, 345
οἴχεσθαι προϕέρουσα κακὴ ἀνέμοιο θύελλα
εἰς ὄρος ἢ εἰς κῦμα πολυϕλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης,
ἔνθα με κῦμ᾽ ἀπόερσε πάρος τάδε ἔργα γενέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάδε γ᾽ ὧδε θεοὶ κακὰ τεκμήραντο,
ἀνδρὸς ἔπειτ᾽ ὤϕελλον ἀμείνονος εἶναι ἄκοιτις, 350
ὃς ἤιδη νέμεσίν τε καὶ αἴσχεα πόλλ᾽ ἀνθρώπων.
τούτωι δ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ἂρ νῦν ϕρένες ἔμπεδοι οὔτ᾽ ἂρ ὀπίσσω
ἔσσονται· τῶ καί μιν ἐπαυρήσεσθαι ὀΐω.
ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν εἴσελθε καὶ ἕζεο τῶιδ᾽ ἐπὶ δίϕρωι,
δᾶερ, ἐπεί σε μάλιστα πόνος ϕρένας ἀμϕιβέβηκεν 355
εἵνεκ᾽ ἐμεῖο κυνὸς καὶ Ἀλεξάνδρου ἕνεκ᾽ ἄτης,
οἷσιν ἐπὶ Ζεὺς θῆκε κακὸν μόρον, ὡς καὶ ὀπίσσω
ἀνθρώποισι πελώμεθ᾽ ἀοίδιμοι ἐσσομένοισι.”
τὴν δ᾽ ἠμείβετ᾽ ἔπειτα μέγας κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ·
“μή με κάθιζ᾽, Ἑλένη, ϕιλέουσά περ· οὐδέ με πείσεις· 360
ἤδη γάρ μοι θυμὸς ἐπέσσυται ὄϕρ᾽ ἐπαμύνω
Τρώεσσ᾽, οἳ μέγ᾽ ἐμεῖο ποθὴν ἀπεόντος ἔχουσιν.
ἀλλὰ σύ γ᾽ ὄρνυθι τοῦτον, ἐπειγέσθω δὲ καὶ αὐτός,
ὥς κεν ἔμ᾽ ἔντοσθεν πόλιος καταμάρψηι ἐόντα.
καὶ γὰρ ἐγὼν οἶκόνδ᾽ ἐσελεύσομαι, ὄϕρα ἴδωμαι 365
οἰκῆας ἄλοχόν τε ϕίλην καὶ νήπιον υἱόν.
οὐ γάρ τ᾽ οἶδ᾽ εἰ ἔτι σϕιν ὑπότροπος ἵξομαι αὖτις,
ἢ ἤδη μ᾽ ὑπὸ χερσὶ θεοὶ δαμόωσιν Ἀχαιῶν.”
ὣς ἄρα ϕωνήσας ἀπέβη κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ·
αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειθ᾽ ἵκανε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας. 370
οὐδ᾽ εὗρ᾽ Ἀνδρομάχην λευκώλενον ἐν μεγάροισιν,
ἀλλ᾽ ἥ γε ξὺν παιδὶ καὶ ἀμϕιπόλωι ἐϋπέπλωι
πύργωι ἐϕεστήκει γοόωσά τε μυρομένη τε.
Ἕκτωρ δ᾽ ὡς οὐκ ἔνδον ἀμύμονα τέτμεν ἄκοιτιν,
ἔστη ἐπ᾽ οὐδὸν ἰών, μετὰ δὲ δμωιῆισιν ἔειπεν· 375
“εἰ δ᾽ ἄγε μοι, δμωιαί, νημερτέα μυθήσασθε·
πῆι ἔβη Ἀνδρομάχη λευκώλενος ἐκ μεγάροιο;
ἠέ πηι ἐς γαλόων ἢ εἰνατέρων ἐϋπέπλων
ἢ ἐς Ἀθηναίης ἐξοίχεται, ἔνθά περ ἄλλαι
Τρωιαὶ ἐϋπλόκαμοι δεινὴν θεὸν ἱλάσκονται;” 380
τὸν δ᾽ αὖτ᾽ ὀτρηρὴ ταμίη πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
“Ἕκτορ, ἐπεὶ μάλ᾽ ἄνωγας ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι,
οὔτέ πηι ἐς γαλόων οὔτ᾽ εἰνατέρων ἐϋπέπλων
οὔτ᾽ ἐς Ἀθηναίης ἐξοίχεται, ἔνθά περ ἄλλαι
Τρωιαὶ ἐϋπλόκαμοι δεινὴν θεὸν ἱλάσκονται, 385
ἀλλ᾽ ἐπὶ πύργον ἔβη μέγαν ᾽Ιλίου, οὕνεκ᾽ ἄκουσε
τείρεσθαι Τρῶας, μέγα δὲ κράτος εἶναι Ἀχαιῶν.
ἣ μὲν δὴ πρὸς τεῖχος ἐπειγομένη ἀϕικάνει
μαινομένηι εἰκυῖα, ϕέρει δ᾽ ἅμα παῖδα τιθήνη.”
ἦ ῥα γυνὴ ταμίη, ὃ δ᾽ ἀπέσσυτο δώματος Ἕκτωρ 390
τὴν αὐτὴν ὁδὸν αὖτις ἐϋκτιμένας κατ᾽ ἀγυιάς.
εὖτε πύλας ἵκανε διερχόμενος μέγα ἄστυ
Σκαιάς, τῆι ἂρ ἔμελλε διεξίμεναι πεδίονδε,
ἔνθ᾽ ἄλοχος πολύδωρος ἐναντίη ἦλθε θέουσα
Ἀνδρομάχη, θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἠετίωνος, 395
Ἠετίων, ὃς ἔναιεν ὑπὸ Πλάκωι ὑληέσσηι,
Θήβηι Ὑποπλακίηι Κιλίκεσσ᾽ ἄνδρεσσιν ἀνάσσων·
τοῦ περ δὴ θυγάτηρ ἔχεθ᾽ Ἕκτορι χαλκοκορυστῆι.
ἥ οἱ ἔπειτ᾽ ἤντησ᾽, ἅμα δ᾽ ἀμϕίπολος κίεν αὐτῆι
παῖδ᾽ ἐπὶ κόλπωι ἔχουσ᾽ ἀταλάϕρονα, νήπιον αὔτως, 400
Ἑκτορίδην ἀγαπητόν, ἀλίγκιον ἀστέρι καλῶι,
τόν ῥ᾽ Ἕκτωρ καλέεσκε Σκαμάνδριον, αὐτὰρ οἱ ἄλλοι
Ἀστυάνακτ᾽· οἶος γὰρ ἐρύετο Ἴλιον Ἕκτωρ.
ἤτοι ὃ μὲν μείδησεν ἰδὼν ἐς παῖδα σιωπῆι·
Ἀνδρομάχη δέ οἱ ἄγχι παρίστατο δάκρυ χέουσα, 405
ἔν τ᾽ ἄρα οἱ ϕῦ χειρὶ ἔπος τ᾽ ἔϕατ᾽ ἔκ τ᾽ ὀνόμαζε·
“δαιμόνιε, ϕθίσει σε τὸ σὸν μένος, οὐδ᾽ ἐλεαίρεις
παῖδά τε νηπίαχον καὶ ἔμ᾽ ἄμμορον, ἣ τάχα χήρη
σεῦ ἔσομαι· τάχα γάρ σε κατακτανέουσιν Ἀχαιοὶ
πάντες ἐϕορμηθέντες. ἐμοὶ δέ κε κέρδιον εἴη 410
σεῦ ἀϕαμαρτούσηι χθόνα δύμεναι· οὐ γὰρ ἔτ᾽ ἄλλη
ἔσται θαλπωρή, ἐπεὶ ἂν σύ γε πότμον ἐπίσπηις,
ἀλλ᾽ ἄχε᾽· οὐδέ μοι ἐστὶ πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ.
ἤτοι γὰρ πατέρ᾽ ἀμὸν ἀπέκτανε δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς,
ἐκ δὲ πόλιν πέρσεν Κιλίκων εὖ ναιετάωσαν, 415
Θήβην ὑψίπυλον, κατὰ δ᾽ ἔκτανεν Ἠετίωνα·
οὐδέ μιν ἐξενάριξε, σεβάσσατο γὰρ τό γε θυμῶι,
ἀλλ᾽ ἄρα μιν κατέκηε σὺν ἔντεσι δαιδαλέοισιν
ἠδ᾽ ἐπὶ σῆμ᾽ ἔχεεν· περὶ δὲ πτελέας ἐϕύτευσαν
νύμϕαι ὀρεστιάδες, κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο. 420
οἳ δέ μοι ἑπτὰ κασίγνητοι ἔσαν ἐν μεγάροισιν,
οἳ μὲν πάντες ἰῶι κίον ἤματι ῎Αϊδος εἴσω·
πάντας γὰρ κατέπεϕνε ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς
βουσὶν ἐπ᾽ εἰλιπόδεσσι καὶ ἀργεννῆις ὀΐεσσι.
μητέρα δ᾽, ἣ βασίλευεν ὑπὸ Πλάκωι ὑληέσσηι, 425
τὴν ἐπεὶ ἂρ δεῦρ᾽ ἤγαγ᾽ ἅμ᾽ ἄλλοισι κτεάτεσσιν,
ἂψ ὅ γε τὴν ἀπέλυσε λαβὼν ἀπερείσι᾽ ἄποινα,
πατρὸς δ᾽ ἐν μεγάροισι βάλ᾽ ῎Αρτεμις ἰοχέαιρα.
Ἕκτορ, ἀτὰρ σύ μοί ἐσσι πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ
ἠδὲ κασίγνητος, σὺ δέ μοι θαλερὸς παρακοίτης. 430
ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν ἐλέαιρε καὶ αὐτοῦ μίμν᾽ ἐπὶ πύργωι,
μὴ παῖδ᾽ ὀρϕανικὸν θήηις χήρην τε γυναῖκα.
λαὸν δὲ στῆσον παρ᾽ ἐρινεόν, ἔνθα μάλιστα
ἄμβατός ἐστι πόλις καὶ ἐπίδρομον ἔπλετο τεῖχος.
τρὶς γὰρ τῆι γ᾽ ἐλθόντες ἐπειρήσανθ᾽ οἱ ἄριστοι 435
ἀμϕ᾽ Αἴαντε δύω καὶ ἀγακλυτὸν ᾽Ιδομενῆα
ἠδ᾽ ἀμϕ᾽ Ἀτρείδας καὶ Τυδέος ἄλκιμον υἱόν·
ἤ πού τίς σϕιν ἔνισπε θεοπροπίων εὖ εἰδώς,
ἤ νυ καὶ αὐτῶν θυμὸς ἐποτρύνει καὶ ἀνώγει.”
τὴν δ᾽ αὖτε προσέειπε μέγας κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ· 440
“ἦ καὶ ἐμοὶ τάδε πάντα μέλει, γύναι· ἀλλὰ μάλ᾽ αἰνῶς
αἰδέομαι Τρῶας καὶ Τρωιάδας ἑλκεσιπέπλους,
αἴ κε κακὸς ὣς νόσϕιν ἀλυσκάζω πολέμοιο.
οὐδέ με θυμὸς ἄνωγεν, ἐπεὶ μάθον ἔμμεναι ἐσθλὸς
αἰεὶ καὶ πρώτοισι μετὰ Τρώεσσι μάχεσθαι, 445
ἀρνύμενος πατρός τε μέγα κλέος ἠδ᾽ ἐμὸν αὐτοῦ.
εὖ γὰρ ἐγὼ τόδε οἶδα κατὰ ϕρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν·
ἔσσεται ἦμαρ ὅτ᾽ ἄν ποτ᾽ ὀλώληι Ἴλιος ἱρὴ
καὶ Πρίαμος καὶ λαὸς ἐϋμμελίω Πριάμοιο·
ἀλλ᾽ οὔ μοι Τρώων τόσσον μέλει ἄλγος ὀπίσσω, 450
οὔτ᾽ αὐτῆς Ἑκάβης οὔτε Πριάμοιο ἄνακτος
οὔτε κασιγνήτων, οἵ κεν πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοὶ
ἐν κονίηισι πέσοιεν ὑπ᾽ ἀνδράσι δυσμενέεσσιν,
ὅσσον σεῖ᾽, ὅτε κέν τις Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων
δακρυόεσσαν ἄγηται ἐλεύθερον ἦμαρ ἀπούρας. 455
καί κεν ἐν Ἄργει ἐοῦσα πρὸς ἄλλης ἱστὸν ὑϕαίνοις,
καί κεν ὕδωρ ϕορέοις Μεσσηΐδος ἢ Ὑπερείης
πόλλ᾽ ἀεκαζομένη, κρατερὴ δ᾽ ἐπικείσετ᾽ ἀνάγκη·
καί ποτέ τις εἴπηισιν ἰδὼν κατὰ δάκρυ χέουσαν·
‘Ἕκτορος ἥδε γυνή, ὃς ἀριστεύεσκε μάχεσθαι 460
Τρώων ἱπποδάμων, ὅτε Ἴλιον ἀμϕεμάχοντο.’
ὥς ποτέ τις ἐρέει· σοὶ δ᾽ αὖ νέον ἔσσεται ἄλγος
χήτει τοιοῦδ᾽ ἀνδρὸς ἀμύνειν δούλιον ἦμαρ.
ἀλλά με τεθνειῶτα χυτὴ κατὰ γαῖα καλύπτοι,
πρίν γέ τι σῆς τε βοῆς σοῦ θ᾽ ἑλκηθμοῖο πυθέσθαι.” 465
ὣς εἰπὼν οὗ παιδὸς ὀρέξατο ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ·
ἂψ δ᾽ ὁ πάϊς πρὸς κόλπον ἐϋζώνοιο τιθήνης
ἐκλίνθη ἰάχων πατρὸς ϕίλου ὄψιν ἀτυχθείς,
ταρβήσας χαλκόν τε ἰδὲ λόϕον ἱππιοχαίτην,
δεινὸν ἀπ᾽ ἀκροτάτης κόρυθος νεύοντα νοήσας· 470
ἐκ δ᾽ ἐγέλασσε πατήρ τε ϕίλος καὶ πότνια μήτηρ.
αὐτίκ᾽ ἀπὸ κρατὸς κόρυθ᾽ εἵλετο ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ,
καὶ τὴν μὲν κατέθηκεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ παμϕανόωσαν·
αὐτὰρ ὅ γ᾽ ὃν ϕίλον υἱὸν ἐπεὶ κύσε πῆλέ τε χερσίν,
εἶπεν ἐπευξάμενος Διί τ᾽ ἄλλοισίν τε θεοῖσι· 475
“Ζεῦ ἄλλοι τε θεοί, δότε δὴ καὶ τόνδε γενέσθαι,
παῖδ᾽ ἐμόν, ὡς καὶ ἐγώ περ, ἀριπρεπέα Τρώεσσιν
ὧδε βίην τ᾽ ἀγαθόν, καὶ ᾽Ιλίου ἶϕι ἀνάσσειν.
καί ποτέ τις εἴπηισι ‘πατρὸς δ᾽ ὅ γε πολλὸν ἀμείνων᾽
ἐκ πολέμου ἀνιόντα· ϕέροι δ᾽ ἔναρα βροτόεντα 480
κτείνας δήϊον ἄνδρα, χαρείη δὲ ϕρένα μήτηρ.”
ὣς εἰπὼν ἀλόχοιο ϕίλης ἐν χερσὶν ἔθηκε
παῖδ᾽ ἑόν· ἣ δ᾽ ἄρα μιν κηώδεϊ δέξατο κόλπωι
δακρυόεν γελάσασα. πόσις δ᾽ ἐλέησε νοήσας,
χειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξεν ἔπος τ᾽ ἔϕατ᾽ ἔκ τ᾽ ὀνόμαζε· 485
“δαιμονίη, μή μοί τι λίην ἀκαχίζεο θυμῶι·
οὐ γάρ τίς μ᾽ ὑπὲρ αἶσαν ἀνὴρ Ἄϊδι προϊάψει,
μοῖραν δ᾽ οὔ τινα ϕημὶ πεϕυγμένον ἔμμεναι ἀνδρῶν,
οὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλόν, ἐπὴν τὰ πρῶτα γένηται.
ἀλλ᾽ εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα τὰ σ᾽ αὐτῆς ἔργα κόμιζε, 490
ἱστόν τ᾽ ἠλακάτην τε, καὶ ἀμϕιπόλοισι κέλευε
ἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι· πόλεμος δ᾽ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει
πᾶσιν, ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα, τοὶ ᾽Ιλίωι ἐγγεγάασιν.”
ὣς ἄρα ϕωνήσας κόρυθ᾽ εἵλετο ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ
ἵππουριν· ἄλοχος δὲ ϕίλη οἶκόνδε βεβήκει 495
ἐντροπαλιζομένη, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέουσα.
αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειθ᾽ ἵκανε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας
Ἕκτορος ἀνδροϕόνοιο, κιχήσατο δ᾽ ἔνδοθι πολλὰς
ἀμϕιπόλους, τῆισιν δὲ γόον πάσηισιν ἐνῶρσεν.
αἳ μὲν ἔτι ζωὸν γόον Ἕκτορα ὧι ἐνὶ οἴκωι· 500
οὐ γάρ μιν ἔτ᾽ ἔϕαντο ὑπότροπον ἐκ πολέμοιο
ἵξεσθαι προϕυγόντα μένος καὶ χεῖρας Ἀχαιῶν.
οὐδὲ Πάρις δήθυνεν ἐν ὑψηλοῖσι δόμοισιν,
ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γ᾽, ἐπεὶ κατέδυ κλυτὰ τεύχεα ποικίλα χαλκῶι,
σεύατ᾽ ἔπειτ᾽ ἀνὰ ἄστυ ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι πεποιθώς. 505
ὡς δ᾽ ὅτε τις στατὸς ἵππος, ἀκοστήσας ἐπὶ ϕάτνηι,
δεσμὸν ἀπορρήξας θείηι πεδίοιο κροαίνων,
εἰωθὼς λούεσθαι ἐϋρρεῖος ποταμοῖο,
κυδιόων· ὑψοῦ δὲ κάρη ἔχει, ἀμϕὶ δὲ χαῖται
 ὤμοις ἀΐσσονται· ὃ δ᾽ ἀγλαΐηϕι πεποιθώς, 510
ῥίμϕά ἑ γοῦνα ϕέρει μετά τ᾽ ἤθεα καὶ νομὸν ἵππων·
ὣς υἱὸς Πριάμοιο Πάρις κατὰ Περγάμου ἄκρης
τεύχεσι παμϕαίνων ὥς τ᾽ ἠλέκτωρ ἐβεβήκει
καγχαλόων, ταχέες δὲ πόδες ϕέρον. αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειτα
Ἕκτορα δῖον ἔτετμεν ἀδελϕεόν, εὖτ᾽ ἂρ ἔμελλε 515
στρέψεσθ᾽ ἐκ χώρης ὅθι ἧι ὀάριζε γυναικί.
τὸν πρότερος προσέειπεν Ἀλέξανδρος θεοειδής·
“ἠθεῖ᾽, ἦ μάλα δή σε καὶ ἐσσύμενον κατερύκω
δηθύνων, οὐδ᾽ ἦλθον ἐναίσιμον ὡς ἐκέλευες.”
τὸν δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέϕη κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ· 520
“δαιμόνι᾽, οὐκ ἄν τίς τοι ἀνήρ, ὃς ἐναίσιμος εἴη,
ἔργον ἀτιμήσειε μάχης, ἐπεὶ ἄλκιμός ἐσσι.
ἀλλὰ ἑκὼν μεθίεις τε καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλεις· τὸ δ᾽ ἐμὸν κῆρ
ἄχνυται ἐν θυμῶι, ὅθ᾽ ὑπὲρ σέθεν αἴσχε᾽ ἀκούω
πρὸς Τρώων, οἳ ἔχουσι πολὺν πόνον εἵνεκα σεῖο. 525
ἀλλ᾽ ἴομεν· τὰ δ᾽ ὄπισθεν ἀρεσσόμεθ᾽, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς
δώηι ἐπουρανίοισι θεοῖς αἰειγενέτηισι
κρητῆρα στήσασθαι ἐλεύθερον ἐν μεγάροισιν,
ἐκ Τροίης ἐλάσαντας ἐϋκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς.”

4 μεσσηγὺς ποταμοῖο Σκαμάνδρου καὶ στομαλίμνης p, Ar.: μεσσηγὺς

ποταμοῖο Σκαμάνδρου καὶ Σιμόεντος Chaeris

18 οἱ a

21 Πήδασον: Τήρεχον a

31 δ᾽ ἂρ Ἐτάονα a

34 ὃς ναῖε Zen.

45 ἐλλίσσετο p
51 ὄρινε a

61 παρέπεισεν a

71 Τρώων ἂμ πεδίον συλήσομεν ἔντεα νεκρούς Zen. τεθνηῶτας a, Ar.

76 μάντις τ᾽ οἰωνοπόλος τε Ar.

86 μετοίχεο a

87 γεραιρὰς a

90 ὅς οἱ: ὅ οἱ p

91 μμεγάρωι a

95 ἄστύ τε a

96 αἴ: ὥς a, Ar.

101 ἀντιϕερίζειν Bentley

109 ὣς a

111 Τρῶες καὶ Λύκιοι καὶ Δάρδανοι ἀγχιμαχηταί a

112 ἀνέρες ἔστε θοοὶ καὶ ἀμύνετον ἄστεϊ λώβην Zen., ἀμύνετε Leaf

120 ἀμϕοτέρω a

121 ἰόντε Zen., Arph., Ar.

128 οὐρανὸν Ar.

135 χολωθεὶς Zen.

148 τηλεθόωντα Arph. ὥρηι a, Arph.

155 Ἐλλεροϕόντην Zen.

157 κακὰ μήσατο a, Ar.

159 οἱ: μιν a

160 Διάντεια a

165 ἐθέλουσαν a

170 ἠνώγειν a, Ar.

171 μετ᾽ Demetrius Ixio

172 Ξάνθόν τε a

187 ἂρ ἀπερχομένωι a: ἂρ ἐπερχομένωι b: ἀναερχομένωι c λόχον a

188 εὐρείης: ἐείκοσι a

195 ὄϕρα νέμοιτο: πυροϕόροιο a

200 κἀκεῖνος a

213 ἐνὶ Bekker

217 μμεγάροισιν a

226 ἔγχεσι a ἀλλήλους Zen.

237 ϕηγὸν: πύργον a

241 πᾶσι μάλ᾽ a

245 πλησίον a

246 παρ᾽ αἰδοίηις a

249 πλησίον a

250 παρὰ μνηστῆις a

252 ἐς ἄγουσα a

260 δέ κ᾽ αὐτὸς a

263 τὴν δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέϕη p

266 ἀνίπτηισιν Zen.

269 γε: μὲν a

270 γεραιράς a

272 μμεγάρωι a

276 ἄστύ τε a
280 ἔρχεο a

281 κέ οἱ: καί οἱ a: δέ οἱ p

283 om. p

285 ϕρέν᾽ ἄτερ που a, Ar.: ϕίλον ἦτορ Zen.

286 [ο]ὐδ᾽ ἀπίθησ᾽ ῾Εκάβη, ταχὺ δ᾽ ἀ[μ]ϕιπόλοισι p μμέγαρ᾽ a

288 ἣ δ᾽ εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα παρίστατο ϕωριαμοῖσιν a, Ar.

288 ab [κέδρινον] ὑψερεϕῆ, ὃς γλήνη πόλλ᾽ ἐκεκεύθει || [ἔνθα δὲ] ϕωριαμοῖσι

παρί[στ]ατο δῖα γυνα[ικῶν] add. p

290 Σιδονιῶν Fick

305 ῥυσίπτολι a

311 ath. Ar.

319 ἔχεν δεκάπηχυ a

322 τόξα ϕόωντα a

330 εἴ: ὅν p, Ar.

335 νεμέσ(σ)ει a

343 προσηύδα δῖα γυναικῶν a: ἀμείβετο δῖα γυναικῶν b

349 διετεκμήραντο a
350 ἀμύμονος a

351 ὅς ῥ᾽ a εἴδη Fick

353 τῶ: τοῦ Herwerden: τῶν Nauck καί: κέν a

356 ἀρχῆς a

359 [τὴν δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενος προ]σέϕη p

365 οἶκόνδ᾽ ἐλεύσομαι a: οἶκόνδε ἐλεύσομαι b

367 γάρ τ᾽: γὰρ ἔτ᾽ a

373 ἐϕειστήκει a

398 χαλκοκορύστηι: Ἠεδίωνο[ς] p

400 ἐπὶ: ἐνὶ a κόλπον a

407 ϕθείσει a

408 ἐμὸν μόρον a

414 ἁμὸν a: ἐμὸν b: οὐμὸν c

415 ναιετόωσαν p, Ar.

432 θείηις a

433–9 ath. Ar.

434 ἀμβατός a, Ar.: ἀμβατή Callistratus

435 τῆιδ᾽ a

437 Ἀτρείδα Demetrius Ixio

438 θεοπροπέων a: θεοπροπίας b

447 γὰρ: μὲν a

453 πέσωσιν p

456 ῎Αργεϊ οὖσα a ἄλληις a

464 τεθνηῶτα a: τεθνεῶτα p

465 γ᾽ ἔτι a

470 ἐπ᾽ a κορυϕῆς a

475 εἶπε δ᾽ Ar.

477 ἐνιπρεπέα a

478 βίην ἀγαθόν τε a

479 εἴποι a γ᾽ ὅδε p, Ar.

484 ἐλέαιρε a

493 πᾶσι, μάλιστα δ᾽ ἐμοί p, Epictetus

494 χε[ιρὶ παχείηι] (?) p

504 ποικίλα χαλκῶι: παμϕανόωντα a

511 ῥίμϕ᾽ ἑὰ Zen.

528 στήσεσθαι a
 Commentary

1–71: Catalogue of Killings

The catalogue of killings gradually tips the balance in favour of the

Achaeans and leads to the statement that at this point the Achaeans were
about to drive the Trojans all the way back into Troy (73–4): this is the first
time in the poem when the defeat of the Trojans is said to be imminent. For
an excellent study of this catalogue, see Broccia 1963: 15–51.

1–4 A panoramic view of the Trojan plain (cf. S. D. Richardson 1990:

119–23; and de Jong and Nünlist 2004: 69–70). It summarises the events of
book 5: the gods have gradually left the battlefield. The two sides are
carefully balanced and command equal attention. The catalogue of killings
which begins at 5 is introduced by a subtle shift from passive to active
verbs (1–2), from intransitive to transitive ones (2–3) and from abstract
nouns (ϕύλοπις, μάχη) to human agents (the implied subject of ἰθυνομένων).
General descriptions of battle like this one often introduce scenes of single
combat; see Fenik 1968: 19.

1 δ’: δ᾽: the particle typically introduces a new idea, making sure that the
audience stays with the narrator and notices the shift, see Bakker 1997a:
79–80; cf. further Introduction 2.4. οἰώθη: 3rd pers. sing. aor. pass., of a
verb *οἰωθῆναι that in epic is exclusively attested in this form (cf. 11.401).
From the point of view of the poet, the battlefield is empty because the gods
have abandoned it. For the poet's knowledge of the gods, see Jörgensen
1904, with Introduction 1 and 3.1. Τρώων: 6n., 111n. καί: unlike δέ, which
introduces a new thought, this particle adds to the previous narrative unit,
see Bakker 1997a: 71–4. Ἀχαιῶν: 5n. ϕύλοπις αἰνή ‘dreadful battle’; for the
epithet see Stoevesandt 2008: 13 and, for the unobtrusive value judgement,
cf. 16–17n. (λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον). The exact meaning of ϕύλοπις was debated
already in antiquity, see Σb ad 6.1c, Ebeling 1880–5: vol. II, 456.
Occasionally it is followed by πολεμοῖο, suggesting that it could be
conceived as an aspect of war rather than an unusual word for it. Some
ancient commentators speculated that it might refer to the din of battle, but
at Il. 16.256 Achilles wants to watch (not hear) the ϕύλοπις of Achaeans
and Trojans. The term is heroic (cf. Hes. Op. 161) and was used by later
authors to evoke the tradition of heroic epic (e.g. Theoc. 16.50). On difficult
Homeric words, see further Introduction 2.4.

2 The line captures the energetic movement on the battlefield: for its
unusual metrical shape, which disregards Hermann's bridge, see Hoekstra
1969: 64, Stoevesandt 2008: 13, and Introduction 2.1. πολλά: adverbial,
‘much’. ἄρ: the particle (also ἄρα, ῥα) draws out a detail which may
otherwise remain implicit or hidden from sight; cf. Bakker 1993: 16–19,
10n., 215n.; and Introduction 2.4. ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθ᾽…πεδίοιο ‘this way and
that…across the plain’; for the construction with the genitive, see
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 59. ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα is often used in overall
descriptions of the action (e.g. 2.476, 15.345, 21.11), panoramic similes
(2.462) and other overviews (e.g. 10.264, 18.543, 20.249). The catalogue
beginning at 5 zooms in on the fighting and describes specific cases of what
is happening across the plain. ἴθυσε: forms of the verb ἰθύω are often used
in battle narrative, where they convey the impression of head-on
engagement (cf. the cognate verb ἰθύνω, ‘straighten, direct’, the noun ἰθύς,
‘straight course of action, attack’, and the adjective ἰθύς, ‘straight, direct’).

3 ἀλλήλων ἰθυνομένων ‘as they aimed at each other’ (ἀλλήλων goes with
ἰθυνομένων, which is best taken as a genitive absolute, rather than as a
qualifier of μάχη). The phrase echoes ἴθυσε in 2 and prepares the transition
to the catalogue of killings; cf. 1–4n. χαλκήρεα δοῦρα: the phrase is
formulaic in heroic epic, especially in this metrical position. Bronze, as a
metal, evokes the world of the heroes: although iron is mentioned in the
Homeric poems (cf. 48n.), the heroes mostly use weapons and utensils
made of bronze, while the gods are closely associated with gold (or,
sometimes, silver: e.g. ἀργυρόπεζα Θέτις); cf. 236n. In Hesiod, iron is a
marker of the present era, as opposed to the earlier ages of gold, silver and
bronze: see Op. 106–79 with M. L. West 1978: 172–7. On metals as
markers of different ages and beings (gods, heroes, ordinary mortals), see
also Most 1997 and Clay 2003: 81–99. This mythical chronology of metals
probably reflects a memory that bronze was indeed manufactured earlier
than iron: iron working on a significant scale was introduced to the Aegean
in the eleventh century BCE and did not spread to all parts of the Greek
world until the ninth century BCE; see Snodgrass 1980: 345–55. χαλκήρεα
literally means ‘fitted with bronze’ (ἀραρίσκω). δοῦρα: the most common
plural form of singular δόρυ/δοῦρυ (< *dorw-). For ου as a spelling of long
ō, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 5–6; Wachter 2000: 67; Cassio 2002:
110–11. Wachter 2001: 244–5 and 335–6 points out examples of the
practice from the seventh century onwards and suggests that it arose in the
context of writing down poetry; see also Wachter 1991: 108–13. δόρυ/
δοῦρυ is the shaft of the spear and hence the spear as a whole; see Trümpy
1950: 53.

4 Σιμόεντος ἰδὲ Ξάνθοιο ῥοάων: the battle takes place within a triangle
formed by the two rivers and the walls of Troy; for discussion see Elliger
1975: 48–52; Thornton 1984: 154–6; Luce 1984; for the larger geographical
context Herzhoff 2008. The Simoeis is prominent at the end of book 5,
where we learn that it flows into the river Skamandros, also known as
Xanthos: cf. 5.774. The printed text is that of the medieval manuscripts and
most papyri. At least two alternative readings were known to ancient
scholars: ποταμοῖο Σκαμάνδρου καὶ στομαλίμνης (Aristarchus) and ποτάμοιο
Σκαμάνδρου καὶ Σιμόεντος (Chaeris, on whom see M. L. West 2001a: 81).
The reading of the medieval vulgate is likely to reflect the majority of the
ancient manuscripts. Aristarchus is said to have found his alternative
reading in ‘the ancient manuscripts’ (ἐν τοῖς ἀρχαιοῖς). He initially accepted
it but then changed his mind in order better to account for the location of
the Achaean camp in relation to the battlefield (ΣA ad 6.4, with Nickau
1977: 2–3). Chaeris’ reading looks like an attempt to adapt the ‘ancient’
reading to Aristarchus’ changed view of the Trojan plain. On these ancient
variants, see further van der Valk 1963–4: vol. II, 88; S. West 1967: 72–3;
and Rengakos 1993: 154–5. Ξάνθοιο: a son of Zeus (Il. 21.2) and
protagonist of the battle in book 21. At 20.74 we are told that Ξάνθος is the
divine name of the river which men call Skamandros. For the poet's
familiarity with the language of the gods, see Introduction 2.4; for his
divine perspective, see 1n. (οἰώθη).
5–36 Catalogues of killings can be arranged in two ways: chain reactions,
where Trojan and Achaean deaths alternate, or series of uninterrupted
killings on one side only, as here; cf. Fenik 1968: 10. This catalogue has
narrative momentum: it is arranged in a steady crescendo, which shows that
the Achaeans gradually gain ground. In the first entry Ajax kills just one
opponent (5–11), Diomedes follows with one opponent and his charioteer
(12–19), Euryalos kills two pairs of men in quick succession (20–8), then
the catalogue continues with seven deaths in an even shorter compass (29–
36). The verbs add to the effect: βαλών – βάλε for Ajax = ‘hit’; ἔπεϕνε for
Diomedes = ‘killed’, ἐξενάριξεν – ἐσύλα for Euryalos = ‘(killed and)
despoiled’. As the pace of the narrative quickens, its scope becomes more
ambitious: Ajax's opponent is described almost entirely in terms of his
behaviour on the battlefield and the details of his death. The vista then
widens to take in the former life of Diomedes’ victim (13–16). The third
entry describes the rise and fall of an entire branch of the Trojan royal
family (21–8); then the catalogue continues with a quick, matter-of-fact
succession of deaths without detail. Broccia 1963: 17 argues that the
catalogue establishes a hierarchy of Achaean fighters: the first ones have
the hardest task.

5–11 The catalogue starts with a prominent pair of opponents: Ajax is the
best of the Achaeans after Achilles (cf. 2.768–9); his victim, Akamas, is the
best of the Thracians (7). In book 5 Ares took the shape of Akamas and
joined the battle without fearing for his life; now the human Akamas gets
killed.

5 πρῶτος marks the opening entry in the catalogue. The poet introduces a
series of specific examples of what is happening everywhere on the
battlefield, cf. 2n. (ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθ᾽), see de Jong and Nünlist 2004: 76–9.
Τελαμώνιος: on patronymics see Introduction 2.2. ἕρκος Ἀχαιῶν: in this form
only of Ajax (3.229, 7.211; but cf. 1.283–4). In early epic he is a defensive
warrior (cf. Od. 11.555–6), and is expected to defend others also in later
texts (e.g. Sophocles’ Ajax). Ἀχαιῶν: one of the three collective names used
of the warriors who side against the Trojans; the other two are Ἀργεῖοι and
Δαναοί (cf. 66n., 67n.). Thuc. 1.3.3 comments on the Homeric words
Ἀχαιοί, Ἀργεῖοι, Δαναοί and Ἕλληνες, arguing that Homer does not operate
with the mutually exclusive categories of ‘Greeks’ versus ‘barbarians’. This
is true but, after the Persian Wars, the Trojan expedition was generally
interpreted as a conflict between Greeks and barbarians; see E. Hall 1989
and Haubold 2007. The name Ἀχαιοί may have very ancient origins: Hittite
sources mention a western people called Ahhijawā; see further Finkelberg
1988; J. Hall 2002: 49–55; Hajnal 2003: 35–42; Latacz 2004: 121–8.

6 Τρώων: placed in striking juxtaposition to Ἀχαιῶν at the end of line 5:

Ajax protects the Achaeans and defeats the Trojans. The term refers to the
inhabitants of Troy (Τροίη) and hence its defenders more generally. It may
go back to the Bronze Age; cf. 207n. ϕάλαγγα ‘line of battle’, only here in
the singular, perhaps emphasising the fragility of the Trojan line. Ancient
audiences seem to have understood the term as a reference to the hoplite
phalanx, see Graziosi 2002: 175–8; modern scholars emphasise the
differences between Homeric and classical warfare; see Latacz 1977: 45–67
and 178–215; Bowden 1993; Hanson 1999: 38–45; van Wees 2004: 151–
97. ϕόως δ᾽ ἐτάροισιν ἔθηκεν ∼ 8.282, 11.797, 16.39, all in direct speech.
Ajax eases the pressure on the Achaeans: the breakthrough starts off as a
successful act of defence; cf. 5n. (ἕρκος Ἀχαιῶν). ϕόως: an alternative form
of ϕάος, ‘light’; closer in sound to Ionic ϕῶς but lengthened so that it fits
the hexameter (the phenomenon is called diectasis, lit. ‘stretching’). The
Ionic-sounding form ϕόως, rather than ϕάος, is generally used when the
next word starts with a consonant, i.e. when the metre allows it; see
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 81. Here it means ‘relief’, ‘safety’, cf. 15.741;
Ciani 1974: 7–9; and Lossau 1994: 86.

7 ἐνί: epic form of ἐν. τέτυκτο: unaugmented pluperfect passive of τεύχω,

‘make’. The perfect and pluperfect passive forms of this verb are frequently
used simply for ‘is’ or ‘was’.

8 Ἐϋσσώρου scans ∪ – – –; the final syllable -ου remains long before the
main caesura which separates the two words (Ἐϋσσώρου ∥Ἀκάμαντ᾽). For
this type of hiatus, see Nünlist 2000: 112; cf. 175n., 293n. Recent editors
rightly resist the temptation of restoring the ancient epic genitive -οιο, with
elision of final omicron (Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 193–4): already the
eighth-century Ischia cup spells καλλιστ [ϕα]ν : Αϕροδιτες, i.e.
καλλιστεϕάνου Ἀϕροδίτης, with contraction and hiatus; cf. M. L. West
2001a: 164. Ἀκάμαντ᾽: the only warrior in this catalogue who also features
in the Catalogue of Trojans (2.844); see further 5–11n. ἠΰν τε μέγαν τε is
used mostly of Trojan warriors (Bernsdorff 1992: 21); for epithets which
gravitate towards certain nouns, see 12n. (βοὴν ἀγαθός).

9–11 = 4.459–61. For repeated lines, see Introduction 2.2. Here and in
book 4 a catalogue of killings opens with a blow to the forehead, a
particularly confrontational way to set off the hostilities. At the end of the
catalogue, at 36, Phylakos is caught while running away: the sequence
suggests that the Trojans are buckling under the pressure (cf. 5–36n.)

9 τόν ‘that one, him’ (demonstrative pronoun). There are few real articles
in early Greek epic: ὅ, ἥ, τό are used as pronouns even when followed by
the noun to which they refer; see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 236–50. ῥ᾽:
unaccentuated (enclitic) form of ἄρα with elision of final alpha, cf. 2n.
ἔβαλε governs two accusatives, first of the person (τόν), then of the part of
the body (or, in this case, attire: ϕάλον), as often in Homer; cf. 355n., and
see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 42. πρῶτος picks up πρῶτος at 5, a
reminder that we are still dealing with the first entry in a larger catalogue.
ϕάλον: probably a metal plate attached to the helmet; or one of the plates
that make up the helmet itself. Cognate expressions suggest various
possibilities, with up to four such plates per helmet (cf. τετράϕαλος). See
Lebessi 1992 and, for older literature, Borchhardt 1972: 7–8 and 1977: 73.

10 We follow the path of Ajax's spear from the ‘forehead’ into the ‘bone’.
Descriptions of wounds in Homer tend to be detailed and memorable: the
scholia expected listeners to respond with amazement, θαῦμα, at the
description of wounds, see ΣbT ad 17.314–15. Tatum 2003: ch. 6, discusses
the effect of Homeric woundings; Salazar 2000: 127–8 reviews earlier
scholarship; for a medical perspective see Robertson 2002, and Saunders
2003. ἄρα is repeated (cf. 9) to draw out the detail; cf. 2n. ἐν δὲ μετώπωι
πῆξε ‘he rammed (the spear) into his forehead’ (πήγνυμι). The object of
πῆξε remains implicit until the beginning of line 11. εἴσω ‘into’, after nouns
in the accusative or genitive.
11 αἰχμὴ χαλκείη: a frequent expression, usually placed in necessary
enjambment, as is the case here. αἰχμή is the tip of the spear; see 319n.,
320n., and Trümpy 1950: 54–5. On bronze, see 3n. τὸν δὲ σκότος ὄσσ᾽
ἐκάλυψεν: a traditional phrase at the end of a killing, cf. Morrison 1999; on
darkness and death, see also Bremer 1976: 40–3. Here, σκότος contrasts
with ϕόως (6n.); cf. Broccia 1963: 21. τόν: cf. 9n.

12–20 From this point onwards, entries are headed by the Trojan victims
rather than their Achaean slayers, as the poet's attention shifts to the Trojan
side. Axylos is one of many Iliadic characters who are mentioned for the
first time at the moment of their death. Although we have not heard of him
before, the location of his house and his kindness to strangers make him
memorable, and his death is experienced as a loss: Griffin 1980: 103–43,
and 12n.

12 ∼ 5.69, 6.29, etc.; see Visser 1987: 196–9. ῎Αξυλον: only here. The
etymology of the name is unclear; ΣbT suggest ‘he who leads (the guests to
his place)’, cf. the ancient explanation for Καλήσιος (18n.). Axylos’ father,
Teuthras, has an Achaean namesake (5.705). Unknown characters often
sound familiar, giving the impression that we could know more about them,
even when in fact we do not. We are not meant to assume that they are
created just so that they can be killed (Griffin 1980: 103); rather, we are
invited to think of them as full characters about whom we happen to know
little. Their names are often plain and plausible: e.g. Δρῆσος (20), Ἀστύαλος
(29), Ἀρετάων (31), Ἔλατος (33); or evoke known characters, places or
activities: e.g. Ὀϕέλτιος (20n.); Αἴσηπος and Πήδασος (21n.); Βουκολίων
(22n.); Φύλακος (34–5n.); Μελάνθιος (36n.); Ἄδρηστος (37n.). For Homer's
treatment of minor warriors see further Reichel 1994: 279–300. ἔπεϕνε:
reduplicated aorist of a root that also forms the noun ϕόνος, and the present
stem θειν-, ‘to strike’; see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 395–8. As often in
early Greek epic, linguistically younger forms coexist with older ones; see
LfgrE s.v. *θείνω, πεϕνεῖν B 1 and Introduction 2.5. βοὴν ἀγαθός ‘good at
the war-cry’, accusative of respect. The phrase can accompany a range of
names but tends to be used of either Menelaos or Diomedes at the end of
the line. For epithets that gravitate towards specific nouns without being
applied exclusively to them, cf. Hainsworth 1993: 22–3; Friedrich 2007:
84–6 argues, rightly, that there is a sliding scale between ‘distinctive’
epithets (i.e. those joined to only one noun), and ‘generic’ ones. Διομήδης:
son of Tydeus and one of the most important warriors at Troy; cf. Andersen
1978. He plays a crucial role on the battlefield when Achilles is away:
Taplin 1992: 135.

13 Τευθρανίδην: a typical case of progressive enjambment, see Introduction

2.1. The patronymic serves as a link between line 12 and the additional
information provided in 13–15. For possible connections between Axylos’
father, Teuthras, and the myth of Telephos, king of Teuthrania, see Wathelet
1988: 1529–30; Stoevesandt 2008: 18. ἐϋκτιμένηι ‘well built, well settled’; a
standard epithet of Homeric buildings (e.g. houses, streets, threshing
floors), cities and islands; cf. 391n. (ἐϋκτιμένας κατ᾽ ἀγυιάς). Ἀρίσβηι: a
town near Abydos and Perkote, on the southern shore of the Hellespont; see
Latacz 2003: 273–4.

14 ἀϕνειὸς βιότοιο ‘rich in possessions’ (gen. part.); for ἀϕνειός see 47n. (ἐν
ἀϕνειοῦ πατρός). ϕίλος δ᾽ ἦν ἀνθρώποισι: the exact wording is unparalleled
but the phrase recalls 24.61, ϕίλος γένετ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι, and related passages
that describe mortals loved by the gods. The difference is significant: now
that the gods have left (1n.), fellow human beings are presented as an
alternative (and inadequate) source of support. Ancient readers express their
disappointment that Axylos is not backed by a god, since his treatment of
guests would deserve divine support: ΣbT ad 6.16. On ϕίλος, see Scheid-
Tissinier 1994: 122–35 and cf. 67n. For other Trojans who die despite their
individual merits, see Stoevesandt 2004: 141–2.

15 γάρ: apart from introducing causal explanations (as here), Homeric γάρ
often provides additional detail: Bakker 1997a: 112–15. ϕιλέεσκεν:
‘iterative’ forms with-εσκ- express frequent action. ὁδῶι ἔπι ‘by the road’,
with the preposition following the noun (anastrophe), as often in Homer.

16–17: Warriors are often described as helpless at the moment of their

death: see Fenik 1968: 15–16. οἱ: 3rd pers. sing. dat. of the personal
pronoun. As often in Homer, the original digamma (ϝοι) is still felt: there is
no hiatus after ἀλλά; cf. Introduction 2.1. τῶν: see 9n. γε: the particle
highlights an authorial comment on an event or character. τότ᾽ emphasises
the specific circumstances of the encounter; cf. 18n. λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον: a
common phrase in this metrical position, and one of the many cases where
the narrator unobtrusively ‘express[es] his opinion on an…element of his
story’, de Jong 2004: 43. πρόσθεν ὑπαντιάσας ‘facing Diomedes by coming
up in front of Axylos’. ὑπαντιάσας < ἀντάω/ἀντιάω, ‘encounter’, and ὑπ-.
The meaning of the prefix in this context is debated: perhaps it suggests that
the rescuer appears unexpectedly, sneaking in from below, cf. ὑπομένω
‘withstand a superior opponent’ (17.174) and ὑποδύω ‘slip in under’ in
order to retrieve a corpse or a wounded warrior (8.332, 13.421, 17.717).
ἀπηύρα: aorist with final long α. At some point the form must have been
interpreted as an imperfect on the model of ἐτίμα (hence the form ἀπηύρων,
‘I took away’, ‘they took away’, which retains the meaning of the aorist
stem). ἀπηύρα is frequently used of irreplaceable objects such as life, glory
or freedom, see LfgrE s.v. ἀπηύρων B.

18 Καλήσιον: the only instance of this name. The scholia derive it from
καλέω, ‘call’, and link it to Axylos’ hospitality. In this case the name would
mean something like ‘he who invites’, thus Kirk 1990: 157; cf. 12n.
(῎Αξυλον). ὅς ῥα: as often in Homer, the relative pronoun is reinforced by
the enclitic form of the particle ἄρα (Ruijgh 1971: 438–43): translate ‘and
he’. τόθ᾽: one papyrus and a manuscript of ΣD read οἱ, but the vulgate text is
preferable: it emphasises that Kalesios was in no position to save Axylos
‘then’; for the use of τότε with ἔσκεν, cf. 9.561–2 (τότ(ε)…καλέεσκον), and
Od. 4.518 (τότ᾽ ἔναιε, durative).

19 ἔσκεν ‘he used to be’. An alternative form of ἦν, ‘was’, expressing

duration; cf. 15n., Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 320–1. ὑϕηνίοχος: the term is
unparalleled in epic and its precise meaning has been debated since
antiquity; cf. Stoevesandt 2008: 19–20. The prefix ὑϕ- may emphasise that
Kalesios is in no position to help. τὼ…ἐδύτην ‘they both sank into the
earth’ (dual). For the root aorist of δύομαι, cf. 185n. For similar
formulations see 411n. and Od. 24.106. Hades, as the abode of the
deceased, was situated beneath the earth; see 284n., 20.61–5.
20–8 The third entry describes two double killings: Euryalos kills Dresos
and Opheltios (20), then Aisepos and Pedasos (21–8). The list of pairs
culminates with the statement that Aisepos and Pedasos are twin brothers
(26); cf. 5.541–61. The poet gives a detailed and rather compressed account
of the twins’ family, spanning three generations. With their death, one
branch of the Trojan royal family comes to an end. Epic poetry is much
preoccupied with the survival of family lines and revels in long
genealogies. The poet provides recondite information on Boukolion's family
and draws attention to this fact: Boukolion and his sons are born in obscure
circumstances and marginal settings; see 24n., 25n. Commentators debate
whether the genealogy should be considered ‘conscious fiction’ or whether
it reflects a local tradition; see Kirk 1990: 158. The text, however, does not
encourage us to view these options as alternatives: the poet tells us about a
family that would otherwise remain obscure, and its history has a strong
local flavour, rather than enjoying Panhellenic fame.

20 ∼ 30, 36, 14.513, and many related verses; cf. Visser 1987: 173–7.
Δρῆσον: only here, cf. 12n. (Ἄξυλον). Εὐρύαλος: one of the Epigoni, the
sons of the ‘Seven against Thebes’; see Cingano 2004: 60–2. He plays a
minor role in the Iliad, appearing twice as a subordinate and close ally of
Diomedes (2.565–7, 23.677–84). The Theban War is evoked often in books
4–6, when Diomedes, himself one of the Epigoni, is prominent; cf. 222–3n.
Ὀϕέλτιον: nothing is known about the Trojan Opheltios, but there is an
Achaean of the same name (11.302); for minor characters, see 12n.
(Ἄξυλον). ἐξενάριξε: the meaning ranges from killing an enemy to taking his
spoils. Usually the two actions go together: van Wees 1992: 97–8. Euryalos
does both (28n.) but at the end of the catalogue Nestor urges the Achaeans
to keep up the momentum and kill men without stopping for spoils (66–
71n.).

21 Αἴσηπον καὶ Πήδασον: the names are elsewhere given to a river and a
town respectively, see 2.825, 6.34–5n., 20.92, 21.87. On the local colouring
of the passage: 20–8n. On personal names, cf. 12n. (Ἄξυλον). ΣT report a
variant reading Τήρεχον for transmitted Πήδασον, which was allegedly used
by ‘the other ἱστορικοί᾽. (For the form Πήρεχον, which Σb mistakenly
ascribe to Aristarchus and his school, cf. van der Valk 1963–4: vol. I, 173.)
ποτε: contrast 16–17n., 18n. (τότ᾽, τόθ᾽). The narrative reaches into a more
distant past. νύμϕη: cf. 22n., and 419–20n.

22 νηΐς: always used in conjunction with νύμϕη, a minor goddess living

near or in water (cf. νάω/ναίω = ‘flow’); on nymphs and water: Larson
2001: 8. Ἀβαρβαρέη: only here in early Greek hexameter poetry. The name
has been linked with βόρβορος (‘mud’), but its etymology remains uncertain
(LfgrE s.v. Ἀβαρβαρέη). ἀμύμονι: generic epithet used of a wide range of
characters (or, less often, activities, places and objects). The word may
derive from μῶμος, ‘blame’ (cf. Aeol. μῦμαρ), and was understood in
antiquity to mean ‘blameless’, ‘excellent’; cf. 155n., 171n. and 190n.
Βουκολίωνι: only here. The name means ‘cowherd’ and links this character
to the circumstances in which his children were conceived; cf. βουκολέω,
βούκολος.

23 ἀγαυοῦ ‘illustrious’, ‘impressive’; cf. 4.534 = 5.625 μέγαν…καὶ ἴϕθιμον

καὶ ἀγαυόν. A common epithet, it is often used of famous heroes from an
older generation, as here; cf. 5.277 (Tydeus), 17.284 (Telamon), 18.16
(Nestor). Λαομέδοντος: the father of Priam (20.237), famous for his bad
manners: 5.649–51, 21.443–57.

24 σκότιον ‘in(to) obscurity’ (cf. σκότος = ‘darkness’), i.e. ‘illegitimate’

(ΣbT ad 6.24), but the expression also emphasises how difficult it is to
know and sing about Boukolion, in contrast with ‘illustrious Laomedon’ in
the line before; for discussion, see Ebbott 2003: 20–36. Bukolion does not
feature in the official list of Laomedon's children at 20.237–8 (Λαομέδων δ᾽
ἄρα Τιθωνὸν τέκετο Πρίαμόν τε || Λάμπον τε Κλύτιόν θ᾽ Ἱκετάονά τ᾽, ὄζον
Ἄρηος). For the poet's ability to tell us about this character, cf. 20–8n.; for
the relationship between what can be seen and what can be known, see
Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 80–4. ἑ ‘him’. 3rd pers. sing. acc. of the
personal pronoun in its unaccentuated (enclitic) form.

25 ποιμαίνων δ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ὄεσσι ∼ 11.106. Boukolion has sex with Abarbaree

‘near the sheep’. It is the task of young men to tend flocks in early Greek
epic, cf. 424n. While doing so, they sometimes meet and have intercourse
with divine partners: cf. 14.444–5, and Hom. Hymn 5.53–291; the
judgement of Paris is a variation on this theme: 24.29–30. Griffin 1992:
201–4 points out that such liaisons typically involve men fighting on the
Trojan side and tend to spell doom. μίγη…εὐνῆι: a resonant phrase in early
Greek epic: through this traditional expression, the obscure story of
Boukolion evokes other genealogies of gods and heroes where similar
phrases are used (e.g. Od. 5.126; Hes. fr. 17.5 MW, Theog. 125).

26–7 The narrative is arranged in such a way that birth of the twins is
directly followed by their death. ἣ δ᾽ ὑποκυσαμένη ∼ 20.225, Od. 11.254;
Hom. Hymn 32.15; and seven times in the Hesiodic corpus; cf. 25n. (μίγη…
εὐνῆι) and Introduction 2.4. ἥ: Abarbaree, cf. 9n. διδυμάονε γείνατο παῖδε =
Hes. Sc. 49 ∼ Il. 5.548; Hes. fr. 17.14 MW. μέν: ‘clears the ground for later
statements, providing a basis from which further continuation is possible’:
Bakker 1997a: 82. The fact that μέν rounds off the killing of Aisepos and
Pedasos – but not previous killings – suggests that an important transition is
about to take place. τῶν: cf. 9n. ὑπέλυσε: the compound form is often used
with γυῖα (e.g. 15.581), only here with μένος as well; it echoes ὑποκυσαμένη
above. For another pair of ὑπό-compounds in close succession, see 17 and
19. μένος: ‘the force of onrushing energy that is manifested in swift physical
and mental movement’, Clarke 2004: 80. It is lost forever at the moment of
death: LfgrE s.v. μένος B 1 e. (The epithet ἀμενηνός describes the dead and is
explained by ΣD ad 5.887 as μένος οὐκ ἔχων.) ϕαίδιμα γυῖα: a frequent
phrase in this metrical position. ϕαίδιμος is almost exclusively used of
people or limbs; contrast ϕαεινός at 32n. For the impression of brilliance
conveyed by the epic language, cf. 31n. (δῖος).

28 Μηκιστηϊάδης: in the Iliad Mekisteus is one of the ‘Seven against

Thebes’ (also in Hdt. 5.67; but not in Aesch. Septem); see Cingano 2002:
47–8 and 60. At 23.679–80 we are told that he competed and won in the
funeral games for Oedipus (N. J. Richardson 1993: 243). On the function of
patronymics, cf. Introduction 2.4. On the Theban War, cf. 222–3n. καὶ…
ἐσύλα ∼ 15.524, 22.368, etc. A traditional phrase at the end of a killing (cf.
11n. τὸν δὲ σκότος ὄσσε κάλυψεν). In the heat of battle it is not always
possible to strip the dead (cf. 5.617–26); the fact that Euryalos does so
suggests that the Achaeans are gaining ground, cf. 20n. (ἐξενάριξε) – see,
however, 68–9n.
29–36 The narrative accelerates further, with seven killings in eight lines.
Frequent enjambment (30–1, 32–3, 34–5 and 35–6) and several changes of
rhythm, in combination with ellipsis of the verb (31, 33), and different
verbs of killing in quick succession (ἔπεϕνε…ἐξενάριξεν…ἐνήρατο…ἕλε…
ἐξενάριξεν), give the impression of rapid and relentless attack. By line 36 the
Trojans are in full flight; cf. 9–11n.

29 ∼ 5.69, etc.; cf. 12n. Ἀστύαλον: only here, perhaps formed as a

variation on Εὐρύαλος (20n.); cf. 12n. (Ἄξυλον). μενεπτόλεμος < μένω +
π(τ)όλεμος (cf. ΣD ad 2.740; and Risch 1974: 191). Four times out of nine
in the Iliad this epithet is used of Polypoites and is thus neither simply
generic nor fully distinctive; cf. 12n. (βοὴν ἀγαθός). Πολυποίτης: a son of
the Lapith Peirithous (2.740–4); he is mentioned again at 12.127–94 for a
brief moment of glory. At 23.836–49 he beats Ajax at the discus.

30 Πιδύτην: only here; for a discussion of the name, see Visser 1987: 181–
4. Περκώσιον: from Perkote on the southern shore of the Hellespont.
ἐξενάριξεν: cf. 20n.

31 ἔγχεϊ χαλκείωι: frequently found in this metrical position; for the effect
of the enjambment see 29–36n. Homer's use of ἔγχος may contain traces of
an older Mycenaean meaning ‘thrusting spear’ (as opposed to δόρυ =
‘casting spear’), but this is not certain: see LfgrE s.v. δόρυ B 2; and Trümpy
1950: 52–4. For bronze as a marker of the heroic age, see 3n. Τεῦκρος…
δῖον: the first of two clauses in this section with ellipsis of the verb; cf. 29–
36n., 33n. Τεῦκρος: Ajax's half-brother (8.281–5). He is mentioned here for
the first time in the poem; later, in books 8, 12–13 and 15, he becomes
prominent as one of the few archers on the Achaean side. He loses the
archery contest at the funeral games for Patroclus because he fails to pray to
Apollo (23.859–69). For his role in the Iliad, see Ebbott 2003: 37–44.
Ἀρετάονα: only here. The scholia and some manuscripts read ἂρ Ἐτάονα,
for which see Wathelet 1988: 309, but the particle ἄρα seems out of place.
Since both names are unique in epic, it is possible that the variants reflect
ancient controversies about the identity of minor Homeric characters; cf.
21n. (Πήδασον). δῖον: generic epithet used of men, women, goddesses and
geographical features (e.g. the ground, the sea); it is never applied to male
gods. The meaning appears to be ‘amazing’, ‘brilliant’, rather than ‘divine’
in any strong sense, though Hellenistic readers saw it as equivalent to θεῖος
in at least some cases (cf. LfgrE s.v. δῖος Σχ and B). Generic epithets like
δῖος enhance the overall brilliance of the epic world; cf. 26–7n. (ϕαίδιμα
γυῖα), 32n. (δουρὶ ϕαεινῶι), and Introduction 2.6. The ΣD ad 2.522 gloss
δῖος as θαυμαστός (‘amazing’): Introduction 2.6.

32 A combination of two otherwise distinct formulaic patterns: cf. 5.43 (∼

5.59, 14.515) Ἰδομενεὺς δ᾽ ἄρα Φαῖστον ἐνήρατο Μηιόνος υἱόν; and 17.304
(∼ 4.496, 5.611, etc.) Ἕκτωρ δ᾽ αὖτ᾽ Αἴαντος ἀκόντισε δουρὶ ϕαεινῶι. The
overall effect is one of condensation and acceleration. Ἀντίλοχος: the son of
Nestor and a friend of Achilles (23.556), prominent in the latter half of the
Iliad and, especially, in the cyclic epic Aethiopis, where he is Achilles’
favourite comrade (Proclus, Chrestomathy, p. 112 West; cf. Od. 4.187–8,
24.77–9; Pind. Pyth. 6.28–43). ῎Αβληρον: only here. Von Kamptz 1982:
279–80 tentatively compares Homeric εὔληρα = ‘reins’, but the name may
have a non-Greek etymology; cf. 12n. (Ἄξυλον). ἐνήρατο: unaugmented
aorist middle of ἐναίρω. The original meaning was probably ‘to strip of
arms’ (cf. ἐναρίζω, 20n.), but in Homer ἐναίρω means ‘kill’ (people,
animals) or ‘disfigure’ (a body). δουρὶ ϕαεινῶι: very common in this
metrical position, often after the verb ἀκόντισε, ‘he thrust’ (Visser 1987:
80–2). On the many epic words which convey an impression of brilliance,
see 31n. (δῖον).

33 Νεστορίδης: cf. 13n. The enjambment breaks up the rhythm of the

hexameter line and contributes to the overall effect of breathless forward
movement; cf. 29–36n. Ἔλατον…Ἀγαμέμνων: another elided verb, cf. 31n.
(Τεῦκρος…δῖον). Elatos is mentioned only here, cf. 12n. (Ἄξυλον). ἄναξ
ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων: ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν is not used exclusively of Agamemnon
but is closely associated with him: see M. Parry 1971: 93. The form wanax
appears as the title of kings and gods on Mycenaean tablets. In early Greek
epic it is an honorific title for divine and human characters (‘lord’), unlike
the term βασιλεύς, ‘king’, which describes a political office; see Carlier
1984: 140–50 and 215–30; Yamagata 1997; Carlier 2006; Schmidt 2006.
34–5 The only digression of any length in this section. ναῖε δέ: here and at
13.172, Zenodotus read ὃς ναῖε (scanned – ∪∪, hos-na-ye). Both readings
are possible; cf. Janko 1994: 68 and 81. For the readings of Zenodotus, see
Introduction n. 189. The verb ναίω can be transitive, as here (‘dwell in’ +
acc. of the place), intransitive (‘be situated’) or causative (‘found’).
Σατνιόεντος: the river is mentioned again as the birthplace of the
eponymous Satnios at 14.445. It has its source on Mount Ida and reaches
the Aegean in the southern Troad. Πήδασον: cf. 21n. Pedasos was founded
by the Leleges (21.86–7) and destroyed by Achilles (20.92). Agamemnon
offers to Achilles a different city called Pedasos in the Peloponnese (9.152,
9.294). αἰπεινήν: a common epithet of mountains and cities (especially
Troy). The alternative form αἰπήεις/-εσσα is used of Pedasos at 21.87.
Φύλακον…ἥρως ∼ 15.340; cf. 23.779, 839. This Phylakos appears only
here; the Argonaut Iphiklos is the son of a different Phylakos (Φυλακίδης:
2.705 and 13.698; cf. Apoll. Rhod. 1.45–8); on names of minor warriors, cf.
12n. (Ἄξυλον). Λήϊτος: one of the Boeotian leaders (2.494), mentioned again
at 13.91 and in more detail at 17.597–606. ἥρως: the term is primarily used
to place characters in a distant age, when human beings were closer to the
gods and greater than now (cf. Hes. Op. 160: προτέρη γενέη). It is applied,
apparently without discrimination, to more or less impressive fighters (Kirk
1990: 162), and even to men (never women) who do not fight at all: Od.
8.483. Early audiences of Homeric poetry worshipped the heroes, typically
at their tombs (Antonaccio 1995, Deoudi 1999, and Ekroth 2002); but there
is little reference to this practice in the Iliad: the poem forces us to
contemplate the heroes’ death from their own perspective, not that of later
generations, see further Clarke 2004: 78–80; Currie 2005: 48–57; and
Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 122–5.

36 ϕεύγοντ᾽: Phylakos is the first Trojan who is said to be running away,

but by 41 there is a general stampede towards Troy. On enjambment, see
29–36n. and Introduction 2.1; on the increasing pressure experienced by the
Trojans in the opening lines of book 6, see 1–71n. Εὐρύπυλος…ἐξενάριξεν:
cf. 20n. Εὐρύπυλος: one of the Thessalian leaders (2.734–7) and a
prominent warrior on the Achaean side (esp. 7.167 and 11.575–95, where
he is wounded by Paris). It is unclear exactly where he rules in Thessaly; cf.
Kirk 1985: 234–5; Visser 1997: 698–708; Latacz 2003: 237. Μελάνθιον:
only here in the Iliad. In the Odyssey Μελανθεύς/Μελάνθιος is the name of an
Ithacan who sides with the suitors against Odysseus; Μελανθώ is the only
named maid among those killed by Odysseus.

37–65 Formally, this is the last and longest entry in the catalogue of
killings. Supplication is presented as the last means by which the Achaean
onslaught may be delayed – but it fails: Agamemnon urges Menelaos to kill
the suppliant as a step towards the extermination of all Trojans, even babies
still in their mothers’ wombs (58n., 59n.).

37–8 Line 37 may look like yet another killing, but instead of the expected
δ᾽ ἂρ ἔπεϕνε (cf. 12 and 29), we get δ᾽ ἂρ ἔπειτα, which cues us for
something new: the enjambment reveals that Menelaos has captured his
victim alive. For the use of enjambment as an effective way of changing or
redirecting what has been said before, see Introduction 2.1. ῎Αδρηστον: two
other characters called Adrestos fight on the Trojan side: one is mentioned
in the Catalogue of Trojans (2.830–4) and dies with his brother at 11.328–
34, the other is killed at 16.694. This specific Adrestos is mentioned only
here, but his name sounds familiar: the audience may well not realise that
he is mentioned only at the moment of his death, cf. 12n. (Ἄξυλον). For
possible parallels with the more famous Adrestos of the Theban Saga, see
Murray 1934: 223; and Aloni 1986: 96–8. ἂρ ἔπειτα: cf. 37–8n.; and
Stoevesandt 2008: 25. βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος: cf. 12n.

38–41 The poet focuses on Adrestos’ horses, offering a detailed view of

how they trip over a tamarisk branch and where exactly they break the
chariot. The syntax at this point is strikingly unencumbered by line breaks
(cf. Bakker 1997b: 303). At 41 the poet widens his perspective and shows
us that Adrestos’ horses are just two of many that are stampeding towards
Troy.

38 γάρ: 15n. ἀτυζομένω πεδίοιο ∼ 18.7. ‘Stampeding across the plain’; for
the genitive with a verb of motion, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 58–9.

39–41 In the Iliad horses often obey their masters ‘not unwillingly’; cf. the
formulaic phrase τὼ δ᾽ οὐκ ἀέκοντε πετέσθην (5.366 etc.). The fact that now
they are out of control adds to the panic; cf. 16.370–1. For a similar
incident, cf. 23.392–7.

39 βλαϕθέντε: dual. μυρικίνωι: in the Iliad tamarisks typically grow on

river banks, cf. Kirk 1990: 159. The battle takes place between two rivers
(4n.), so Adrestos seems to find himself near one of them, at the edge of the
battlefield. ἀγκύλον ἅρμα ‘curved’, usually of bows; cf. 322n. The epithet
may point to the curved front of the chariot; see Kirk 1990: 159; Plath
1994: 139–43.

40 ἐν πρώτωι ῥυμῶι ‘at the front of the pole’, i.e. where the chariot is
attached to the yoke. αὐτὼ μέν: we are asked to keep our focus on the
horses, as they flee towards the city, but μέν implies that our attention will
soon shift elsewhere; cf. Bakker 1997a: 84–5 and 26–7n.

41 ∼ 21.4 (cf. 21.554). πρὸς πόλιν: the city comes into view as the object
of the Trojans’ panicked retreat. Later, we are shown how the spectre of
their defeat affects those left inside. περ: this particle places a given word or
phrase at a specific point on an imaginary spectrum of meaning: ἧι περ =
‘just where’, ‘exactly where’; cf. Bakker 1988. ἀτυζόμενοι: cf. 38n.
ϕοβέοντο: the third verb of flight in six lines. In Homer ϕοβέομαι usually
means ‘flee’ rather than ‘fear’; for discussion see Cheyns 1985: 37–8;
Stoevesandt 2008: 25. For ἀτύζομαι together with ϕοβέομαι, see 21.4 and
LfgrE s.v. ἀτύζομαι B.

42–3 The sequence of prepositions traces Adrestos’ fall in vivid detail:

‘from’ the chariot, ‘near’ the wheel, ‘into’ the dust, ‘on’ his mouth; see
Introduction 2.6. αὐτὸς δ᾽: cf. 40n. (μέν). ἐκ δίϕροιο παρὰ τροχόν: Adrestos’
fall symbolises defeat: in Homer, and more generally in Near Eastern and
Mediterranean art and literature, victors typically stand on the chariot,
whereas defeated warriors fall and lie next to the wheels; cf. 16.378–9. For
an Egyptian example, see the decoration on the chariot of Thutmose IV, in
Müller 1979: 116. ἐξεκυλίσθη: epic κυλίνδω and its derivatives are often
used of corpses. For living warriors being treated like inanimate objects, see
Weil 2003: 20–2 and 46–8. πρηνὴς…στόμα: Adrestos lies face down, in a
position which is typical of corpses, cf. 2.418 and 4.544. πὰρ…ἔστη: in
Homeric Greek the two components of the verb have not yet fully
coalesced; the technical term tmesis (‘splitting’) is therefore misleading.
The sudden, looming presence of Menelaos has the uncanny quality of a
divine apparition.

44 Ἀτρείδης: used of both Agamemnon and Menelaos (contrast Ἀτρείων,

only of Agamemnon). Menelaos is first mentioned without reference to his
brother or father (37), now he is ‘Menelaos son of Atreus’, and at 46
Adrestos calls him simply ‘son of Atreus’, a phrase equally applicable to
Agamemnon; cf. 46n. This gradual shift leads on to 53–65, where
Agamemnon actually takes over from Menelaos. δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος: from
δόλιχος (long) and possibly σκιά (shadow), cf. LfgrE s.v. δολιχόσκι(ος) Σχ
and B. For ἔγχος see 31n. The epithet is used only of ἔγχος, most commonly
at the end of the line (for exceptions see 126n. and Od. 22.97).

45 ∼ 21.71, Od. 10.264. As often in Homer, the line which introduces a

speech also gives some guidance as to what we might expect to hear; see de
Jong 2004: 195–208. For different types of speech introduction: Edwards
1970; and Beck 2005: 32–43; Riggsby 1992 discusses the composition of
speech-introductory lines. λαβὼν…γούνων: the scene has been carefully set
up: Adrestos lies in the dust face down and Menelaos looms over him (cf.
42–3n.). Now Adrestos grabs his knees in supplication; for this gesture in
Homer and other literature, see Naiden 2006: 45–6. ἂρ ἔπειτα: cf. 37n.
ἐλίσσετο: λ is drawn out and closes the preceding syllable, which is then
measured long. The phenomenon is familiar at word boundary; see
Introduction 2.1. Within words, one might have expected syllable length to
be marked by a double consonant; cf. ἐλλίσσετο in papyrus 270 West.
However, West's apparatus here and ad 9.585, 21.71, 22.414 – as well as the
parallels at Od. 7.145, 10.264, etc. – suggest that the preferred spelling for
ἐλ(λ)ίσσετο and ἐλ(λ)ιτάνευε, with long first syllable, had one λ rather than
two. Both forms are justifiable: ἐλλίσσετο attempts to capture pronunciation,
ἐλίσσετο represents the grammatical form.

46–50 ∼ 11.131–5; cf. 10.378–81. The first of many battlefield

supplications in the Iliad: they are always made by Trojans and are never
successful (cf. 10.378–81, 11.130–5, 20.463–5, 21.71–98). We know that
earlier in the war suppliants were sometimes captured alive and sold, or
returned for a ransom (21.34–44, 74–80, 99–105; cf. 2.229–31, 22.46–51;
Wilson 2002: 31–2; see also 427n.). In this episode, and in the course of the
war, pity gives way to the brutal killing of suppliants.

46 Ἀτρέος υἱέ: here of Menelaos; elsewhere in the Iliad this phrase in the
vocative applies to Agamemnon (cf. 2.23 and 60, 11.131; contrast Od.
4.462 and 543); cf. 44n. ἄξια: here Adrestos suggests that the ransom will
be ‘worthy’ or ‘suitable’, though later he describes it as ‘infinite’,
ἀπερείσια, an adjective which is much more commonly used of ἄποινα
(49n.). The narrator never uses the phrase ἄξια ἄποινα and indeed Adrestos
cannot name a suitable price for his own life: his father will give all he can.
For differences between the words used by the poet and those of his
characters, see Introduction 2.4. ἄποινα ‘ransom’; it is typically offered by a
father who hopes to save his son or daughter. The term should be
distinguished from ποινή, ‘compensation’, which is offered or demanded to
atone for some wrongdoing. Those who offer ransom are not in a position to
make or even meet demands; they can only hope that their offer will be
accepted: Wilson 2002: 25–39.

47 ἐν ἀϕνειοῦ πατρός ‘in the house of my wealthy father’; a dative noun

after ἐν must be supplied; cf. 378n. Adrestos does not name his father
(contrast 11.132) but emphasises his wealth and prestige, see Coin-
Longeray 1999 on ἀϕνειóς. κειμήλια: valuable goods which lie in a house;
often, as here, in the phrase κειμήλια κεῖται, which draws attention to the
word's etymology; cf. 194n. (τέμενος). Beyond their material value, κειμήλια
symbolise the stability and wellbeing of a family or even an entire city (cf.
18.288–92); they are often material tokens of long-standing relationships
with other families and friends (e.g. 23.618–50). See further Scheid-
Tissinier 1994: 41–3; and Bichler 2007.

48 = 11.133, 10.379, Od. 21.10. The three metals listed are valuable and
long-lasting, as befits family possessions (for the durability of bronze:
5.292 etc.; iron: 24.205 etc.; gold: 13.22). πολύκμητος ‘much worked’,
‘laboriously wrought’. Iron is much harder than bronze or gold.
49 τῶν: 9n. κέν = ἄν; cf. Latacz 2000b: 92. τοι = Attic σοι. χαρίσαιτο ‘will
give you for your pleasure’; a desperate attempt to establish a bond with the
enemy. χαρίζεσθαι characterises the relationship between allies (15.449 =
17.291), comrades (Od. 8.584), guest-friends (Od. 24.273, 283), spouses
(5.71) and more generally anyone who qualifies as ϕίλος (cf. Od. 10.43).
On giving pleasure to the enemy: 82n. (χάρμα). It may be attempted only as
a last resort in supplication; cf. 10.380, 11.134. πατήρ: cf. 47n. ἀπερείσι᾽
ἄποινα: Adrestos first promised a ‘worthy ransom’ (cf. 46n.) but now uses
the traditional phrase ‘infinite ransom’ (ἀπερείσια < ἀ + πέρας), thus
accepting that all the bargaining power is with the victor; cf. Scodel 2008a:
77–80.

50 Adrestos begins to envisage the possibility that he might be saved. εἴ κεν

with optative rather than simple εἰ is commonly used in Homer to introduce
hypothetical subclauses: Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 277–8. ζωόν echoes
ζώγρει at the beginning of the speech (46). πεπύθοιτ᾽: 3rd pers. sing. opt. of
the reduplicated aorist (πυνθάνομαι). ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν: a common phrase
at the end of the line, often used to describe the place where the booty is
stored (spoils: 7.78 etc.; horses: 5.25–6 etc.; captives: 10.381, 11.111–12
and 135; cf. 1.12–13).

51–65 Agamemnon and Menelaos clash over the future of Adrestos, but
their encounter also brings into view the entire history of the Trojan War,
from its origins (56–7) to the future sack of Troy (57–60). Mentioning the
two brothers together is an effective way of evoking the expedition as a
whole, both here and more generally in Greek literature: Pind. Ol. 9.70,
Isthm. 5.38 and 8.51; Bacchyl. 11.123; Aesch. Ag. 40–7, with Fraenkel
1950: 27–8. Menelaos is the reason why the expedition takes place;
Agamemnon is in charge of it: these different roles tally with the
characterisation of the two brothers. Menelaos emerges here as relatively
kind and ineffectual, Agamemnon as bent on success to the point of
savagery (58–60n). On the characterisation of Menelaos as a ‘soft’ warrior,
cf. 17.588, and ΣbT ad 6.51a; on his reluctance to cause pain, cf. also Od.
4.97–103, where he regrets the death of his own men in Troy. In tragedy his
character degenerates: he becomes even more ineffectual and can also be
unpleasant (e.g. Eur. Andr.); for Menelaos in the Iliad see Willcock 2002;
and Schmit-Neuerburg 1999: 155–6; on the characterisation of
Agamemnon, see 55–60n., 62n., and Taplin 1990.

51 ∼ 2.142, 3.395, etc. Lines that conclude a speech usually offer authorial
guidance on how to interpret it and/or describe the reaction it elicits; Beck
2005: 43–4 and 290–4 collects and discusses speech-concluding formulae;
cf. 45n. ὣς ϕάτο: cf. ὣς ἔϕατ᾽ before a vowel (102n.). θυμόν: the basic
meaning seems to be ‘breath’; cf. Clarke 1999: 79–83, but θυμός is more
generally associated with strong feelings and compelling thoughts: for
example, it typically drives a subject towards a certain course of action but
does not usually recommend idleness or easy options (one clear exception is
Od. 9.302, where Odysseus presents prudence as an act of valour; see also
444n.). Persuasion typically appeals to the θυμός: LfgrE s.v. θυμός B 6 c.
ἔπειθε: the imperfect of πείθω expresses both the process of persuasion and
its (however provisional) realisation; cf. 4.104 τῶι δὲ φρένας ἄϕρονι πεῖθεν,
with Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 190. The reading adopted here is found in
an unedited Oxyrhynchus papyrus (1044 West), and in some of the more
important MSS. Most manuscripts, however, have ὄρινε, ‘he stirred him’.
θυμὸν ὀρίνω can be used when a highly emotional act of supplication is
successful (cf. 9.595 and 24.465–7), but Adrestos does not make an
especially strong appeal for pity. The variants, both here and at 61n.
(ἔτρεψεν), suggest that Menelaos’ exact state of mind was a matter of
interest and debate in antiquity.

52–3 καί: cf. 1n. δὴ…τάχ᾽ ἔμελλε: δή confirms the previous statement and
draws out its consequences; see Bakker 1997a: 75–6. τάχ᾽ ἔμελλε means
‘was about to’, i.e. ‘very nearly did’; cf. 10.365 and LfgrE s.v. τάχα B 1 d.
Menelaos is persuaded – ‘indeed’ (δή) he is about to (τάχ᾽ ἔμελλε) send
Adrestos to the ships. μιν: 3rd pers. sing. acc. of the personal pronoun
(enclitic). ἔμελλε…δώσειν…καταξέμεν ‘he was about…to hand him over to
his servant so that he might lead him away’. θοάς: frequently of ships (see
M. Parry 1971: 109–13; and LfgrE s.v. θοός B I). The epithet describes an
essential quality of ships, even in a context where they are beached; cf.
Introduction 2.2.
53–4 καταξέμεν is postponed long after ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν and makes the
transition to ἀλλ᾽ Ἀγαμέμνων particularly abrupt. Agamemnon arrives
running and speaks in a stream of runover lines: changing Menelaos’ mind
and killing Adrestos is a matter of urgency: 55–60n., 61–5n.

53 ὧι: 3rd pers. sing. dat. of the possessive pronoun. καταξέμεν: Aeolic
infinitive of the mixed aorist (136n.; cf. 24.663; Hom. Hymn 3.103). ἀλλ᾽
Ἀγαμέμνων: cf. Hes. fr. 197.14 MW, where the phrase recurs in the same
metrical position and to similar effect.

54 The line prepares us for a reproachful speech, cf. 45n. ἀντίος ἦλθε θέων:
cf. 15.584 and 17.257, where a warrior attacks the enemy in battle; cf. 53–
4n. ὁμοκλήσας: the verb is used when a person of higher status reprimands
an inferior (god to mortal, commander to soldier, man to woman, father to
son, driver to horse, master to dog). It can imply strong reproach; cf. 2.199.

55–60 After a series of killings, Menelaos is prepared to spare Adrestos’

life, but Agamemnon insists that no exceptions will be made: all Trojans
must pay for the rape of Helen. In effect, Agamemnon answers Adrestos’
offer of ransom by demanding compensation for an act of wrongdoing; cf.
46n. and Wilson 2002: 165–7. Agamemnon's rhetoric fits the narrative
development of lines 1–71n.: from individual scenes of conflict we are led
to contemplate the overall defeat of the Trojans. Agamemnon's speech is
relentless and was admired as a rhetorical tour de force in antiquity (cf. ΣbT
ad 6.56–7 and 6.62a). At the same time, both ancient and modern readers
have expressed shock at his harshness (58–60n.), and at the poet's apparent
endorsement of it (62n.). For Agamemnon's determination to rape and kill
the Trojan women, see Introduction 3.2.

55 ὦ πέπον ὦ Μενέλαε ∼ 17.238. The elaborate address suggests

Agamemnon's outrage at his brother's actions. πέπον establishes intimacy
but also expresses more or less open disapproval: cf. 2.235 (strong
reproach), 15.437 (mild reproach), Od. 13.154 (implied criticism). Only in
direct speech, from superior to inferior (e.g. Ajax to Teucer, Sarpedon to
Glaukos, Zeus to Poseidon; contrast the deferential ἠθεῖ᾽: 518n.). τίη δέ: τίη
tends to express surprise, disbelief or outrage. The effect is further
strengthened by δέ: 123n., Stoevesandt 2008: 29. For τίη, cf. 145n., 1.365,
11.407–8. Translate: ‘How can you…?᾽ κήδεαι: in the active, κήδω means
‘cause pain’; in the middle it means ‘take pains’ = ‘care about’. κήδομαι
often arises from a sense of pity (2.27 = 2.64 = 24.174, 11.664), or even a
feeling of friendship (cf. 1.196 = 209, 7.204, etc.). Here, the implication is
that Menelaos cares about the wrong people: 56n.

56 ἀνδρῶν: the plural fits Agamemnon's rhetoric. Menelaos is not depicted

as caring about a particular man, but as failing to fight the Trojans. As
Nestor says at 70, the Achaeans should ‘kill men’, not look after them. ἦ
expresses surprise, disbelief or indignation, see Latacz 2000b: 73. σοί:
Agamemnon is careful to point out that he is acting in Menelaos’ own best
interest. ἄριστα: sarcastic; cf. 3.351 κάκ᾽, 3.354 κακά. κατὰ οἶκον:
Agamemnon implies that the rape of Helen should take precedence over
any other consideration.

57 πρὸς Τρώων ‘(were you treated so very well…) by the Trojans?᾽ For
πρός with the genitive see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 134; George 2005:
68–9; and cf. 456n., 524–5n. Agamemnon implicates all the Trojans in
Paris’ act. μή τις: cf. μήδ᾽ 58 and 59, relentlessly driving home the message
that no exceptions are possible. ὑπεκϕύγοι…ὄλεθρον = Od. 12.287 ∼ Od.
9.286, 12.446 etc. ὑπέκϕυγον/ὑπεξέϕυγον is an expressive compound used
only in the aorist, ‘escape’; cf. ὑπεξαλέομαι, ‘flee out from under’ (15.180);
ὑπεκϕέρω, ‘carry off’ (5.318 etc.); see also 16–17n. (πρόσθεν ὑπαντιάσας).
αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον: common at the end of the hexameter line. In contrast with
αἰπεινός (34–5n.), αἰπύς can be used of a wide range of nouns. It is unclear
to what extent its basic meaning ‘steep’ is felt in this formula (ΣbT ad 14.99
gloss ἀνυπέρβλητος, ‘that cannot be surpassed’).

58–60 Agamemnon outlines a miniature ‘Sack of Troy’ of shocking

brutality. The scholiasts were much exercised by the ‘beastliness’ (θηριότης)
of his words (ΣbT ad 6.58–9b). They try to justify him by rehearsing his
own arguments and by drawing attention to the Trojans’ violation of the
truce in book 4; cf. Agamemnon's own speech at 4.158–68. The sack of
Troy has been mentioned before, but only as a frustrated ambition (2.29–30,
66–7, 113, 132–3, 286–8, 4.32–6, 5.715–16), a memory of the distant past
(Heracles’ previous sack: 5.638–42), or an equally distant future (4.160–8,
415–16). Now it seems imminent and is countenanced in all its horror.

58 χεῖράς θ᾽ ἡμετέρας: so far, Agamemnon used the 2nd pers. sing. (κήδεαι,
σοί), now he shifts to the 1st pers. plur.: Menelaos is addressed as one of
‘us’, i.e. the Achaeans. On the strategic use of the 1st pers. plur. towards the
end of an exhortation, cf. 70n., 99–100n., 114n., 226n. γαστέρι ‘in the
womb’ (locative).

59 κοῦρον: the scholia rightly point out that Agamemnon focuses on male
offspring. The tender portrayal of Andromache and her baby son at 394–
502 jars with this image. For the premature death of children as a source of
pathos in Homer: Griffin 1980: 108; Golden 1988: 152. μηδ᾽ ὅς ‘not even
he’; for ὅς used as a demonstrative pronoun after καί and οὐδέ/μηδέ, see
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 276. ϕύγοι: babies still in their mothers' wombs
cannot ‘escape’, but the language assimilates them to the soldiers who are
running away; cf. 57n.

60 Ἰλίου: the ultimate goal of the Achaean onslaught is finally named. Ἴλιος
is almost always feminine in early epic (Il. 15.71 is the only clear
exception). The identification between (ϝ)Ἴλιος and Hittite Wilusa is
debated; cf. Heinhold-Krahmer 2003; and Latacz 2004: 75–92. ἐξαπολοίατ᾽
= ἐξαπόλοιντο, with vocalisation of Indo-European n (Schwyzer 1939: 671).
ἀκήδεστοι echoes κήδεαι at 55 (ring composition), but with a sinister twist:
ἀκήδεστος means not only ‘without care’ but also ‘unmourned’ and hence
‘without funerary rites’ (LfgrE s.vv. ἀκήδεστος, ἀκηδέστως; cf. Alexiou
2002: 10–11). ἄϕαντοι is used to describe the disappearance of an entire
family line, or even a people (cf. 20.303); contrast ἄϊστος (14.258, Od.
1.235, 242), and ἄπυστος (Od. 1.242).

61–5 The series of runover lines continues, as Adrestos is dispatched in a

swift and brutal fashion; cf. 55–60n.

61 ∼ 7.120, 13.788. ἔτρεψεν: some manuscripts read παρέπεισεν, but in the

Iliad that verb is otherwise used when the speaker has a restraining effect;
ἔτρεψεν is more appropriate here. These variants and those at 51n. suggest
that Menelaos’ precise reaction after the speeches was a matter of interest to
ancient and medieval readers. ἀδελϕειοῦ: genitive of ἀδελϕεός, ‘brother’
(cf. Attic ἀδελϕός). Here, as also at 5.21 etc., the Homeric form ἀδελϕειοῦ
stems from pre-Homeric *ἀδελϕεόο, which should not be restored (pace
West); cf. 344n. (ὀκρυοέσσης). ϕρένας: an inner organ, situated in the chest
and associated with a wide range of thoughts and emotions (Sullivan 1988;
Clarke 1999: 83–92). ϕρένες are often closely associated with the θυμός (e.g.
12.173–4); cf. 51n. and see further Jahn 1987, Caswell 1990. ἥρως: cf. 34–
5n.

62 αἴσιμα παρειπών ∼ 7.121, ‘advising what was apportioned’; cf. 333n.

(κατ᾽ αἶσαν…οὐδ᾽ ὑπὲρ αἶσαν). A problematic addition which has
challenged ancient and modern readers (e.g. Goldhill 1990: 376); as
elsewhere, the poet invites scrutiny of Agamemnon's behaviour (see esp.
2.1–420). Ancient commentators wondered whether αἴσιμα simply means
‘in accordance with fate’ (ΣT ad 6.62a), or whether the poet endorses
Agamemnon's speech as ‘appropriate’, even though it seems especially
savage (ΣbT ad 6.62a, cf. 58–60n.). As Kirk 1990: 191 points out,
‘αἴσιμα…refers to Agamemnon's invocation of the laws of hospitality in 56
more than anything else’; see esp. Od. 15.68–71. ΣbT ad 6.58–9b argue that
the speech is appropriate, because the truce has been broken: at 3.300–1,
Trojans and Achaeans agreed that, should they break the truce, they ought
to have ‘their brains poured out like wine, and those of their sons too, and
their wives raped’. For further discussion, see esp. Fenik 1986: 26;
Yamagata 1994: 118; Wilson 2002: 166–7; Stoevesandt 2004: 152–5. For
another surprising authorial comment: 232–6n. with Introduction 4.1. ὃ δ᾽
ἀπὸ ἕθεν ὤσατο χειρί: the suppliant is rejected with a gesture that ends
direct physical contact; cf. Naiden 2006: 130. ἕθεν is gen. sing. of the
reflexive pronoun (< ϝϝέθεν, closing the final syllable of ἀπό). The old
separative ending -θεν (‘away from’) is treated as a metrically convenient
alternative to ἕο, εἷο, εὗ.

63 ἥρω᾽ ῎Αδρηστον: cf., e.g., 13.428, Od. 11.520, with different names. On
ἥρως, see 34–5n. κρείων: mostly used of gods and men, esp. Agamemnon
(the fem. κρείουσα is used once in the Iliad, at 22.48, of Laothoe). Ancient
audiences heard in it the root κρατ- (cf. κράτος, κρατέω, κρατερός); modern
scholars debate its etymology and exact meaning: LfgrE s.v. κρείων.
Translate ‘powerful’, ‘ruler’.

64 After the expansiveness of the supplication scene, we return to the brisk

brutality of the previous killings, with swift changes of subject. οὖτα…
λαπάρην ∼ 14.447 and 517. οὖτα, ‘wounded’, is an aorist with final short
alpha (Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 380); it alternates with the aorists οὔτασε
and οὔτησε, which are also common in Homer. λαπάρην: the soft part of the
body between ribs and hip; wounds in Homer often target soft and painful
spots (e.g. 13.567–75: lower abdomen between ὀμϕαλός and αἰδοῖα;
16.345–50: through the mouth). The lambda in λαπάρην closes the final
syllable of κατά (ka-tal-la-pa-rēn); see Introduction 2.1. ἀνετράπετ᾽ ‘fell on
his back’, cf. 14.447. Ἀτρείδης: cf. 44n.

65 The line closes the episode which started at 38. λὰξ ἐν στήθεσι βάς
‘stepping with one foot on his chest’ (cf. λακτίζω; for λάξ, see Radif 1998:
39–40). Usually the gesture is followed by taking spoils (cf. 5.620–2,
13.618–19, and 16.503). ἐξέσπασε: Agamemnon recovers his own weapon
but does not strip Adrestos, cf. Nestor's speech at 66–71n. μείλινον ἔγχος:
frequent at the end of the hexameter line. Unlike the metrically equivalent
χάλκεον ἔγχος, the phrase is not used with verbs of striking or wounding:
Stoevesandt 2008: 32. Hes. Op. 144–5 suggests a close connection between
ash wood, bronze, and warriors of an earlier age: Ζεὺς δὲ πατὴρ τρίτον ἄλλο
γένος μερόπων ἀνθρώπων || χάλκειον ποίησ᾽, οὐκ ἀργυρέωι οὐδὲν ὁμοῖον, || ἐκ
μελιᾶν…

66–71 Nestor's role in the Iliad is primarily that of military advisor, as

befits his old age: Roisman 2005. He is especially close to Agamemnon and
typically reminds him (and others) to put the common cause before
individual interests. At the beginning of the poem he tries to mend the
quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon (1.247–84); and he later advises
Agamemnon to send an embassy to Achilles (9.93–113). In this speech too
he obliquely alludes to the quarrel (68–9n.). More generally, he translates
Agamemnon's personal rebuke to his brother into a rallying speech for all
the Achaeans. The Achaeans have gathered momentum and should now
continue to ‘kill men’. Hector similarly urges the Trojans to press on
without stopping for spoils when they get close to the ships: 15.346–51.

66 ∼ 110n., 8.172, etc., introducing the speech as a rallying cry.

Ἀργείοισιν: often used interchangeably with Ἀχαιοί and Δαναοί, as here
(5n.); cf. ΣD ad 1.79 (Ἀργεῖοι = Ἕλληνες), and 152n. For Ἀργεῖοι = ‘the
inhabitants of Argos’, cf. 159n. ἐκέκλετο: reduplicated aorist of κέλομαι. The
verb characterises Nestor's speech as martial exhortation; cf. 45n. on
speech-introductory lines.

67 = 2.110, 15.733, 19.78. The line falls into three sections, each defining
the relationship between the speaker and his listeners from a slightly
different perspective. ὦ ϕίλοι establishes an affective bond (opp. ἐχθροί,
δυσμενέες). Konstan 1997: 28–31 discusses the meaning of ϕίλος in Homer
(‘dear’ rather than simply ‘one's own’), cf. also 14n., 360n. For the army as
a group of ϕίλοι see Cairns 1993: 86. ἥρωες Δαναοί identifies the addressees
collectively as Danaans and implies an opposition with Τρῶες. Note that
Δαναοί = Ἀργεῖοι in the line above: 5n. The name Δαναοί may be attested in
Egyptian sources of the Bronze Age (Danaja/Tanaja); cf. Burkert 1998: 49;
and Latacz 2004: 128–33. For ἥρωες cf. 34–5n. θεράποντες ῎Αρηος defines
the addressees as warriors (lit. ‘attendants of Ares’) and prepares them for
the military advice to come. The phrase is used only of the Achaeans;
though Ares actually supports the Trojans (see esp. books 5 and 21). There
is a tension between Ares as the personification of war (203n.) and Ares as
an Olympian god with his own plans and favourite side; cf. Burkert 1985:
169; Erbse 1986: 162–3; and Prieto 1996.

68–9 μή τις…μιμνέτω ‘Let nobody stay behind hankering after spoils.’

Nestor gives advice on how the troops should behave elsewhere too (e.g.
4.303–9); for his concern with the common cause, see also 66–71n. μή τις
echoes Agamemnon's generalisations; cf. 57n. νῦν: Nestor emphasises that
the Achaeans should press on ‘now’ that the Trojans are in flight. ἐνάρων
ἐπιβαλλόμενος ‘throwing himself upon the spoils’. The phrasing is unique in
Homer, but compares closely to Sappho 107 Voigt, where the poet wonders
how she can still hanker after youth: ἦρ᾽ ἔτι παρθενίας ἐπιβάλλομαι. The
noun ἔναρα refers to the armour of enemy soldiers after they have been
killed (hence formulaic ἔναρα βροτόεντα; cf. 480n.). μετόπισθε: the best
Homeric warriors are expected to fight in the forefront of battle (ἐνὶ
προμάχοισιν); cf. 445n. In victory, the emphasis shifts towards the idea that
no one should lag behind. πλεῖστα ϕέρων: Nestor obliquely recalls the
quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon over their share of the booty.
Any concerns about personal gain should be set aside for the common
cause. ἐπὶ νῆας ἵκηται: cf. 50n., 52–3n.

70 ἀλλ᾽ ἄνδρας κτείνωμεν: Nestor switches to the 1st pers. plur.; cf. the
rhetoric at 58n., 99–100n., 114n., 226n. καὶ τά ‘those things too’, referring
to ἐνάρων; cf. 68–9n. The pronoun suggests that Nestor is being somewhat
dismissive; cf. his use of ἕκηλοι (‘at your leisure’) and the 2nd pers. plur. at
71n.

71 Cf. 68–9 (ring composition). Nestor switches back from the 1st to the
2nd pers. plur. This is unusual at the end of an exhortation (58n., 70n., 99–
100n., 114n.) but effectively makes the point that Nestor does not care
about spoils. Zenodotus preferred to read Τρώων ἂμ πεδίον συλήσομεν ἔντεα
νεκρούς, apparently because he wanted Nestor to join the others in the
taking of spoils (ΣAbT ad 6.71ab). His text is less convincing rhetorically
than that of the vulgate. νεκροὺς…τεθνειῶτας ∼ 18.540. The redundant
addition of τεθνειώς is common with νέκυς, though rare with νεκρός. Here
and elsewhere in epic the transmission wavers between forms with ει = ē
and with η. Aristarchus recommended τεθνηῶτας (cf. ΣA ad 6.71a2, 7.89e
and 409, 9.633, etc.), whereas the mainstream Hellenistic transmission
appears to have favoured the linguistically younger form τεθνειῶτας, with
Ionic ‘metathesis’ of vowels (i.e. transfer of quantity: -ηότας > -εῶτας) and
compensatory lengthening (-εῶτας > -ειῶτας); cf. 113n. (βείω). For
discussion of metathesis, see Meister 1921: 146–76; cf. also Chantraine
1948–53: vol. I, 68–73 and 429–31; Wachter 2000: 77–8 and 101. ἄμ:
shortened form of the preposition ἀνά, with assimilation before π-.
συλήσετε ‘you will be able to take spoils’, i.e. ‘you may take spoils’; for the
concessive use of the future tense see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 202.
72–118: The Trojan Reaction

The Trojans are about to retreat inside the walls, when the seer Helenos
gives advice: Aeneas and Hector should rally the troops, then Hector alone
should enter the city and instruct Hecuba on how to make an offering to
Athena. There is an implication that he is chosen for the task because he
alone will not ‘fall into the hands of the women’ (cf. 81–2n.).

72 The line still focuses on individual reactions (ἑκάστου) but describes

unanimity; it seamlessly leads on to a general assessment of the conflict in
the next two lines, mirroring the transition from a panoramic view of the
battlefield to individual scenes of single combat at the beginning of the
book, cf. 1–4n. μένος: cf. 26–7n. θυμόν: cf. 51n.

73–4 = 17.319–20 (cf. 336–7), where Apollo intervenes in support of the

Trojans. Several passages in the Iliad describe events that almost happened:
they serve to change the direction of the narrative, mark climactic points,
highlight the intervention of particular characters and explore the limits of
the epic tradition. Here, the phrase draws attention to the possibility that
Troy might have fallen before it did and helps to present Hector's visit
inside the city not as a retreat, but as part of a plan for the defence of the
city. On counterfactual statements in Homer, see further Lang 1989,
Morrison 1992, Nesselrath 1992, Louden 1993, and de Jong 2004: 68–81.

73 ἔνθα marks the specific point at which the Trojans would have retreated
into Troy; for the frequent use of ἔνθα in counterfactual statements see Lang
1989: 25; and Louden 1993: 183–4 with n. 6. For the accentuation of ἔνθά
κεν, see 251n. αὖτε introduces a shift of focus: we have just heard about the
Achaeans, the Trojans ‘for their part’ were about to retreat. The particle
often introduces a reply in a dialogue ‘then, in turn’ (cf. 144n., 381n.).
ἀρηϊϕίλων: lit. ‘dear to Ares’, i.e. ‘warlike’. In the plural, the epithet is used
only of the Achaeans, and only in contexts where they are about to defeat
the Trojans: 17.319 and 336; cf. 16.303. The spelling as one word suggests
that the Achaeans’ relationship with Ares is not the main point of the
expression (and indeed Ares himself is on the side of the Trojans); cf.
common ἀρήϊος, ‘warlike’, and contrast 318n. (Διὶ ϕίλος). See also 67n.
(θεράποντες Ἄρηος).

74 Ἴλιον εἰσανέβησαν: in the Iliad the phrase is always used of the Trojans
as they are driven back into the city. In the Odyssey the same phrase always
refers to the Achaean expedition: after the fall of Troy only the Achaean
perspective survives; cf. Od. 2.172, 18.252, 19.125. Here, as often, εἰς can
be interpreted as a postposition: Ἴλιον εἰς ἀνέβησαν; though at Od. 16.449
εἰσαναβαίνω must be treated as a compound verb. ἀναλκείηισι δαμέντες
‘overcome by their own weakness’, ‘discouraged’; cf. 17.336–7, where
Aeneas berates the Trojans because they are defeated on account of their
own weakness. Lack of ἀλκή is typical of women (cf. 5.349); Hector is
about to tell the Trojan fighters to ‘be men’ and remember their own ἀλκή:
112n., cf. 265n.

75 Cf. 13.725, 23.155, and, for the second half of the line, 12.60 and 210,
etc. εἰ μή: for its frequent use in counterfactual statements, see Lang 1989:
25. ἄρ introduces what actually happened after the thought experiment at
73–4. Αἰνείαι: in the Iliad Aeneas is second in command of the Trojans.
Here he is mentioned before Hector, but he then drops out of the narrative
altogether, cf. 102–9n. This abrupt disappearance tallies with his rather
marginal role in the poem: at 13.460–1 Aeneas himself is upset that Priam
neglects him. At 20.179–83 Achilles taunts him precisely by saying that
Priam will never care about him, because he is not his son. The gods twice
remove him from the battlefield when he is about to be killed (Aphrodite at
5.311–17; Poseidon at 20.288–340): in a poem fundamentally concerned
with death, Aeneas the survivor is marginal; see Horsfall 1979: 372.
Ἕκτορι: Hector is introduced with little emphasis, after Aeneas. In his
speech Helenos implies that reorganising the troops on the battlefield is a
joint effort, and includes himself in the act of resistance; cf. 84n. He then
singles out Hector as the only man who is going to enter the city: 86n. For
Hector's role in the book, and in the poem as a whole, see 441–6n., and
Introduction 4. παραστάς: formulaic at the end of the line, often in
combination with εἶπε. Here it marks the moment at which resistance
begins: while the Trojans are running away, Helenos makes a stand.
76 Cf. 1.69. In the Iliad it is often a god who prevents ‘something that was
about to happen’: Lang 1989: 23–4; Morrison 1992: 66–8; Louden 1993:
184 with n. 8. Here, however, the gods have left the battlefield (cf. 1n.), and
it is the seer Helenos who changes the course of events. Πριαμίδης: most
frequently of Hector but occasionally also of other sons of Priam. Helenos
is unobtrusively presented as Hector's brother, and this becomes important
later: 87n. and 102n. Ἕλενος: the most prominent seer on the Trojan side, he
is also a warrior. He is mentioned here for the first time: the instructions he
is about to give to Hector do not achieve their ultimate aim, which is that of
pleasing Athena (cf. 311n.), but his prophetic powers are vindicated in the
next book (see 7.44–53; cf. 77–101n.) and here his intervention is
successful in arresting the Trojan retreat. In the Little Iliad he predicts the
fall of Troy to Odysseus (Proclus, Chrestomathy, p. 120 West; cf. Soph.
Phil. 604–13). In Eur. Andr. 1243–5 he becomes Andromache's husband
after the fall of Troy and the death of Neoptolemos. Many characters in
book 6 are prominent in texts dealing with the sack of Troy; see
Introduction 3. The last syllable of Ἕλενος is measured long before caesura;
it is possible that final sigma is drawn out and closes the syllable; see
Introduction 2.1. οἰωνοπόλων ὄχ᾽ ἄριστος: we are cued to expect a speech
which concerns the gods; cf. 45n. The Alexandrian scholar Ammonius (M.
L. West 2001a: 79–80) cites as known to Aristarchus the alternative ending
μάντις τ᾽ οἰωνοπόλος τε (cf. also Zenodotus’ alternative reading at 1.69, of
Calchas). This may be an attempt to describe Helenos’ expertise more
precisely (he is not about to interpret the flight of birds), or to avoid
contradiction with 1.69 (Calchas and Helenos cannot both be ‘the best
reader of birds’). Aristarchus discussed the meaning of μάντις and other
terms for seer, cf. ΣA ad 1.62 with van der Valk 1963–4: vol. II, 100. For
variants in Hellenistic scholarship, see Introduction 6.

77–101 Helenos’ speech begins like a standard rallying cry but at 86 takes
a surprising turn. Helenos is careful to present Hector's mission as viable
and beneficial to the whole community: in the first section of his speech he
organises the Trojan resistance so that Hector can leave without opening a
gap in the battle line (77–85); then he gives precise instructions as to how
the women of Troy should seek Athena's support (cf. 86–98n.); finally, he
emphasises the immediate crisis on the battlefield (cf. 98–101 with nn.).
Hector himself is aware that the Trojans must not think he is about to do
what no warrior is supposed to, namely retreat to the safety of the city and
the loving care of his wife: cf. his speech to the troops, 110–18n. Later in
the book Hector criticises Paris precisely because he is enjoying Helen's
company while the other men fight on his behalf, cf. 325–31n. Three
passages echo Helenos’ instructions, with some significant differences, cf.
110–18n., 269–78n., 286–311n. On Athena's reaction to the offering and
prayers recommended by Helenos, cf. 311n.

77 Αἰνεία τε καὶ Ἕκτορ: cf. 77–101n. Ancient commentators suggest that

by addressing himself first to Aeneas, Helenos avoids direct confrontation
with Hector (ΣbT ad 6.77a). On Aeneas, cf. 75n. πόνος: the toil of battle.
Aristarchus argued that in Homer the word has no connotations of suffering
(i.e. ‘the work of battle’), but his interpretation seems too narrow: cf. 355,
524–5n.; LfgrE s.v. πόνος B I 2. On Aristarchus’ theory, cf. 107n.; ΣAT ad
21.249c; and Lehrs 1882: 73–5.

78 Λυκίων: the Lycian leader Sarpedon has just been wounded (5.663–98)
and is therefore no longer available to lead his people: the task falls on
Aeneas and Hector. For the role of the Lycians in the Iliad and possible
connections to the Lukka people of the Bronze Age, see Bryce 1986: 1–41
and 1992; Hiller 1993; and Mellink 1995. They are the most important
Trojan allies and, as ΣbT ad 6.78 point out, ‘Lycians’ can be used as a
shorthand reference to all allies, cf. 4.197, 11.285 = 15.424 = 485, 16.685.
ἐγκέκλιται ‘leans upon you’; the verb evokes many expressions which
describe the pressure of war: the Achaeans push back the Trojans (5.37; cf.
14.510 and Od. 9.59); warriors ‘lean’ their shields against their shoulders as
they brace themselves for an attack (11.593, 13.488; cf. 22.4, with N. J.
Richardson 1993: 106). ἄριστοι: Helenos introduces a typically Homeric
ideal of excellence, which is described in greater detail in the next line. The
implication of his address is that the best warriors have an obligation to
solve the present crisis; cf. Adkins 1960: 46–9.

79 πᾶσαν ἐπ᾽ ἰθύν ‘in every emergency’; = Od. 4.434, cf. Il. 14.403 (with
variant readings) and 21.303. πᾶσαν suggests that the best warriors should
always succeed (cf. 208n., 445n.); on ἰθύς see further 2n. The present
situation is presented as a test for Aeneas and Hector. μάχεσθαί τε ϕρονέειν
τε: a typical definition of male excellence in Homer; cf. 9.440–3 with
Griffin 1995: 128.

80 στῆτ᾽ αὐτοῦ: the first and most urgent task is to ‘make a stand here’, cf.
75n. Then Aeneas and Hector must go everywhere (πάντηι ἐποιχόμενοι,
81n.) until all the Trojans finally ‘stand’ and face the Achaeans (ἐναντίοι
ἔσταν Ἀχαιῶν, 106n.). λαὸν ἐρυκάκετε: the term λαός is closely associated
with the responsibilities of leaders in relation to their people: Haubold
2000: ch. 1. On Helenos’ appeal to Aeneas’ and Hector's obligations to the
Trojans, cf. 78n. The verb ἐρύκω (‘hold back’) is frequently used of
containing the enemy, not of rallying one's own troops. Helenos’ choice of
language suggests a shift of focus from fighting the enemy to rallying one's
own side; cf. 81–2n. πρὸ πύλαων suggests that the Trojans were about to
flee into their city, as they in fact do later in the poem; cf. 21.526–42.

81–2 Agamemnon has just expressed the wish that the Trojans fall into the
hands of the Achaeans: 58n. Helenos now contemplates another danger:
that they might ‘fall into the hands’ of their own women. The martial
language makes it clear that such a meeting would weaken the men and
benefit the enemy. Helenos’ words here have clear implications for Hector's
future conduct: when he enters the city, he must not be delayed by the
women or surrender to their anxiety; see Introduction 3.2 and 4.

81 πάντηι ἐποιχόμενοι: a common expression in this metrical position,

suggesting a concerted effort to turn the tide of battle; cf. 16.496 = 533 and
5.508 παντόσ᾽ ἐποιχόμενος (of Ares). The verb ἐποίχομαι is used of people
attending to their own tasks (cf. Od. 17.226–8 ∼ 18.362–4). These can be
the tasks of men, as here, or of women: e.g. 491–2n. (ἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι).
πρίν: measured long, as often; for discussion, see Chantraine 1999 s.v. αὖτ᾽:
cf. 73n. ἐν χερσὶ γυναικῶν: in the Iliad men are in the hands of their female
relatives when they are dead. This is most prominently the case with
Hector, whose funeral concludes the poem; see 24.710–12, 724, and cf.
22.426. Kirk 1990: 164 notes the ominous implications of this phrase and
points out that seeking comfort in the arms of women is demeaning; cf. Σb
ad 6.81, and Hector's words to Paris: 325–31n.
82 ϕεύγοντας πεσέειν: in combination, the two verbs suggest a tumultuous
and disorderly flight. Contrast the purposeful πάντηι ἐποιχόμενοι at 81, in
the same metrical position. πεσέειν: aorists in -έειν are relatively common in
early Greek epic; cf. Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 492–3. δηΐοισι δὲ χάρμα
γενέσθαι: mortals should only be a source of joy to those who wish them
well, never the enemy: cf. 3.51, 10.193, 23.342–3; Arnould 1990: ch. 2,
esp. 31–6 (on not pleasing opponents); 17.636, 24.706, Od. 6.184–5 (on
pleasing those whose joy can be reciprocated). The gods, by contrast, can
be a universal ‘source of joy’ for all mortals: cf. 14.325; Hom. Hymn 3.25,
Hom. Hymn 16.4. For the scansion of δηΐοισι, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol.
I, 107.

83 αὐτάρ: more emphatic than δέ, the particle introduces a new thought
and articulates narrative development: Bakker 1997a: 96, with nn. 18–19.
Here it marks the transition to the central section of Helenos’ speech.
ϕάλαγγας: cf. 6n. ἐποτρύνητον: subj. dual. ἐποτρύνω is typically used to
urge others, or occasionally oneself, to fight bravely in battle (cf. ὀτρύνω,
with the same basic meaning). Participles of the verb often introduce or
conclude speeches of martial exhortation (e.g. 8.92, 13.94 = 480 = 17.219,
17.553; 12.442 ∼ 20.364 ∼ 373). Hector exhorts the troops already at 105
(ὀτρύνων), but his speech is delayed until 110; cf. 110–18n. ἁπάσας:
Helenos makes it clear that ‘all’ the lines need to be restored before Hector
can enter the city; cf. 81n.

84 ἡμεῖς μέν: the scholia remark that Helenos ‘persuasively’ switches to the
1st pers. plur., thus claiming his share in the danger (πιθανῶς: ΣbT ad 6.84).
Speakers often include themselves in exhortations to fight (cf. 58n., 70n.),
but here ἡμεῖς followed by μέν promises a contrasting ‘you’, which is
introduced at 86: Hector alone should leave the battlefield and return to
Troy. Δαναοῖσι: 67n. αὖθι μένοντες: the phrase anticipates a change of scene;
cf. πόλινδε μετέρχεο (86n.).

85 Helenos’ bleak assessment of the Trojan plight on the battlefield

informs Hector's actions in Troy. τειρόμενοί περ ‘worn down as we are’; cf.
τείρουσι (255n.), τείρεσθαι (387n.). The verb is used to describe the
collective plight of the Trojans only in book 6; otherwise, when used
collectively, it describes the hardships of the Achaeans (9.248, 302, 11.801,
etc.). περ is concessive here, but the particle has a broader range of
meanings than English ‘although’; cf. 41n. ἀναγκαίη γὰρ ἐπείγει ‘for
necessity weighs on us’. The phrase evokes the oppressive πόνος…
ἐγκέκλιται at 77–8 (ring composition), but the sense of pressure is even
greater now; cf. 8.57, where ἀναγκαίη is used to express a similar
sentiment.

86–98 In the central section of his speech Helenos tells Hector that he
should enter the city and instruct Hecuba on how to seek the support of
Athena. Contact between the male and the female sphere happens through
family connections (cf. 87n. and 88–9n.). The religious role envisaged for
the Trojan women is similar to that of real women in archaic and classical
times, cf. Lefkowitz 1996, and aspects of Helenos’ instructions resemble
closely the ritual performed in honour of Athena at the Panathenaic festival
in Athens; see Introduction 3.1. The syntax of this section is unusually
complex, giving the impression that Helenos speaks with the precise
attention to detail necessary for the successful performance of ritual. Athena
is envisaged as the protector of the city (cf. 305n.), although in the Iliad she
favours the Achaeans and especially Diomedes, whom she is now asked to
restrain; cf. 96n. This tension in her relationship to the city is typical not
only of the Iliad, but also of the wider epic tradition: Introduction 3.1.

86 Ἕκτορ, ἀτὰρ σύ: ἡμεῖς μέν (84n.) suggested that there would be an
exception to the general injunction to stay and fight; now Hector is
emphatically singled out: the formulation is stronger than a sentence
containing a simple δέ. πόλινδε μετέρχεο: μετ(ά) in μετέρχεσθαι is redundant
after πόλινδε, as ancient readers noted: ΣT ad 6.86. The compound can
suggest the idea of attending to one's business, a shade of meaning which
may be relevant here; cf. 5.429, Od. 16.314. See also 81n. (πάντηι
ἐποιχόμενοι). δ᾽: 1n. ἔπειτα marks the central message in Helenos’ speech;
cf. 37–8n.

87 μητέρι σῆι καὶ ἐμῆι: Hecuba is introduced here as the mother of Helenos
and Hector and continues to be described as a mother (251, 264; cf. 254)
until she chooses the robe for Athena: at that point she is called by name for
the first time in the poem; cf. 293n. ἥ: 9n. ξυνάγουσα γεραιάς: this is the
only gathering of old women in early Greek epic, though cf. Sappho 44.31
Voigt. The gathering seems to be modelled on the meetings of γέροντες: at
9.574–5 and 18.448–9, for example, delegations of ‘elders’ entreat a
powerful warrior on behalf of the community and offer him gifts but are
ultimately rejected. The masculine term emphasises authority rather than
age (113n.), as does the variant γεραιράς (ΣbΤ ad 6.87b, who explain it as
‘priestesses’; cf. Schulze 1892: 500–3; van der Valk 1963–4: vol. I, 456–7;
Wickert-Micknat 1982: 31). The transmitted γεραιάς is preferable and does
seem to emphasise age: Hector assumes that Andromache will be at home.
When she is not there, he imagines that she may have gone to visit women
of her generation, at their own homes; finally, in order to account for her
absence, he suggests that all the Trojan women may have gone to the
temple, cf. 379n. (ἔνθά περ ἄλλαι) and 380n. (Τρωιαὶ ἐϋπλόκαμοι). For a
different reading, see Stoevesandt 2008: 38.

88–9 ΣbT ad 6.88–9 describe these lines as ‘superfluous’ (περισσοί). Line

89 may seem suspect for two reasons: (a) this is the only Iliadic passage
where κληΐς means ‘key’ or ‘hook’ as opposed to ‘bolt’; (b) the line seems
to contradict the poet's later narrative: Helenos says that Hecuba should
open the temple, but in fact it is the priestess Theano who does so at 298.
(a) is not a problem: the meaning ‘key’ is attested in the Odyssey and must
be old; cf. Mycenaean ka-ra-wi-po-ro = *κλᾱϝι-ϕόρος (key-bearer), with
Aura Jorro 1985: 324. (b) emphasises Helenos’ perspective: discrepancies
between character speeches and the main narrative are not uncommon and
tend to reflect different priorities and levels of knowledge: de Jong 2004.
Men have access to the world of the women primarily through their female
relations, so Helenos appeals to Hector by focusing on what their own
mother can do to help; the women then share the tasks: Introduction 3.2.

88 νηόν: the abode of a god (cf. ναίω, ‘dwell’) in a landscape frequented by

mortals. In some contexts the word refers specifically to a temple, in others
it may refer more generally to the whole sanctuary, cf. 93–4n. The
accusative of goal without preposition is often employed after ἱκνέομαι, ἵκω
and ἱκάνω, but it is also found with other verbs, including ξυνάγω, ‘gather’.
For discussion and further examples see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 45–6.
γλαυκώπιδος: a standard epithet of Athena, trans. ‘having bright, gleaming
eyes’; cf. γλαυκός = ‘gleaming’, γλαυκιάω = ‘glare’ (of lions). In epic,
Athena is never associated with the owl, γλαῦξ. ἐν πόλει ἄκρηι: the central
elevated area of Troy reserved for palaces and temples; it is also called
Πέργαμος (512n.) and, in the Odyssey, ἀκρόπολις (8.494, 504). On the
location of Paris’ house in relation to the temple of Athena: Introduction
3.3.

89 ἱεροῖο δόμοιο: on Olympus the gods live in ‘houses’ (δώματα); here the
house of Athena is qualified as ‘sacred’; cf. 88n. (νηόν). The epithet
‘sacred’ is standardly used of the whole of Troy: the city is defined by its
temples and more generally by its religious significance; cf. Ἰλίου ἱρῆς, 96n.

90–7 ∼ 271–8. Hector repeats these instructions to Hecuba word for word.
In Homeric epic, messengers report fully and faithfully; cf. de Jong 2004:
180–5 and 241–3; M. L. West 1997a: 190–3 discusses comparative
material. Messenger speeches remind us that precision and attention to
detail can be expected of oral performance just as much as of written
documents; see Introduction 1.

90–1 Helenos recommends that Hecuba offer Athena a πέπλος, a ‘pinned

blanket-dress’ worn by women (van Wees 2005: 4–10). His instructions
follow two episodes which prominently featured such cloaks: at 5.315–17
Aphrodite uses her peplos to shield Aeneas from the enemy, but Diomedes
eventually pierces it with his spear and wounds the goddess (5.337–8).
When Athena enters into battle on Diomedes’ side, she discards her peplos
– a beautiful garment she wove herself – and wears Zeus's tunic instead
(5.733–7; cf. 8.384–8). Now Hecuba is supposed to offer Athena another
peplos and ask her to restrain Diomedes: the goddess will refuse, cf. 311n.
We later learn that the peplos chosen by Hecuba is woven by mortal women
who were abducted by Paris on his way back to Troy, and is therefore
unlikely to please the goddess: see 288–95n. A beautiful peplos is a status
symbol in Homer (van Wees 2005: 12–25); it is a suitable gift for women
and goddesses, and also a gift typically offered by women: Lyons 2003:
107–8; and Kauffmann-Samaras and Szabados 2004. Athena, for example,
was offered a peplos at the Panathenaea: when the Athenians heard
performances of the Iliad at that festival, they must have thought about the
parallels between Hecuba's offering and their own ritual; see Introduction
3.1.

90 ὅς οἱ δοκέει: Helenos emphasises that it is Hecuba's responsibility to

choose the right garment; cf. 91n., 288–95n. ὅς (relative pronoun) is the
reading of the manuscripts; ὅ οἱ (demonstrative pronoun) is attested in one
papyrus (270 West). The reading ὅς disregards digamma (ϝοι; cf. 16–17n.)
but is difficult to dismiss either as a mere corruption or as an intervention
on the part of a late editor. Although manuscripts usually acknowledge
digamma before οἱ (cf. 281n.: κε οἱ; and Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 147; for
exceptions, see 100–1n.: τίς οἱ; 91n.: καί οἱ; and 289n.: οἱ), they generally
read ὅς οἱ rather than ὅ οἱ, even where a short syllable is required; cf.
13.561, Od. 1.300 = 3.198, 21.416 (exceptions: 13.211 and Od. 14.3). The
scribe of papyrus 270 West (who wrote ἐλλίσσετο at 45n.) may have
followed Aristarchus’ theory that Homer preferred ὅ to classical ὅς.
Aristarchus went as far as athetising two lines, 8.524–5, because they
contradicted that theory (Matthaios 1999: 434); and we know that he
recommended ὅ οἱ against transmitted ὅς οἱ at Od. 1.300 (ΣMа ad loc.). ὅς οἱ
should stand, though both spellings seem old (cf. West's apparatus ad
13.561). χαριέστατος: the adjective emphasises the beauty of the garment
and its pleasing effect on the viewer. χάρις is crucial in all human attempts
to please the gods; cf. Parker 1998. It is also an appropriate quality for a
cloak: at 5.338 we are told that the Χάριτες wove Aphrodite's peplos; see
further Wagner-Hasel 2002. ἠδέ emphasises the completeness of a
statement, typically by combining near synonyms (e.g. πολεμίζειν ἠδὲ
μάχεσθαι), or items that together make up a whole (e.g. βίον ἠδὲ ϕαρέτρην),
or a concrete description of an action, followed by its ultimate goal (as at
113–15; cf. 4.322–3, 341–2 ∼ 12.315–16). μέγιστος: the best peploi are
generously proportioned; cf. van Wees 2005: 4 and 15–16.

91 ἐνὶ μεγάρωι: a public room, or more generally a dwelling; cf. 371n. (ἐν
μεγάροισιν). We later see Hecuba instruct her servants in the μέγαρα, pl.
(286–7n.), though she then proceeds into the θάλαμος, an inner room, in
order to retrieve her favourite robe (288n.) For this and other differences
between Helenos’ instructions and Hecuba's actions, see 286–311n.; for the
men's limited awareness of female spaces and activities, see Introduction
3.2. The iota of ἐνί is measured long, because μ in μεγάρωι is drawn out and
closes the syllable; see Introduction 2.1. Some manuscripts and a papyrus
mark the phenomenon with a double consonant: ἐνὶ μμεγάρωι; cf. M. L.
West 1998–2000: vol. I, XXVI. καί οἱ πολὺ ϕίλτατος αὐτῆι: Helenos
emphasised the more objective qualities of gracefulness and size; now he
adds that Hecuba should offer the garment that she likes best. The idea is
that there should be a close correspondence between Hecuba's feelings and
Athena's own – though that turns out to be a problem, because Hecuba
chooses a garment that is unlikely to please the goddess: 288–95n. καί is
measured short (perhaps read ka-yoi, Introduction 2.1), without regard for
digamma before οἱ, cf. 90n.

92 At the Panathenaea the Athenians also seem to have placed their peplos
on the knees of a seated image of Athena Polias; see Introduction 3.1. For
early examples of seated statues, see Kirk 1990: 167; and Stoevesandt
2008: 40–1. ἠϋκόμοιο: a standard epithet of women and goddesses. In the
Iliad it is never used of Athena, except in book 6 where it describes her cult
statue; cf. 273 and 303. This is the only book where Athena's relationship to
women is explored; see Introduction 3.1.

93–4 The women are asked to promise a sacrifice rather than make one;
animal sacrifices are performed by men in the Homeric poems, cf. 270n.
(σὺν θυέεσσιν). δυοκαίδεκα: the number 12 typically expresses a sense of
completeness (contrast 9, discussed at 174n.). It is therefore appropriate for
sacrifices, which should be perfect, cf. 115n. On sacrificing twelve animals,
cf. LfgrE s.v. δυώδεκα B 2. For significant numbers, see 421n. ἐνὶ νηῶι:
sacrifices do not usually take place inside the temple. Τhe word νηός may
denote the whole sanctuary as the abode of the goddess; cf. 88n. See further
Latacz 2000b: 42. ἤνις ἠκέστας ‘one year old, untamed’, according to
ancient explanations (cf. 10.292–3 = Od. 3.382–3, where ἄδμητος,
‘untamed’, is used in place of ἤκεστος). The expression, formulaic in this
position, is only used of female cattle offered to Athena. It was probably
already obscure when the Iliad was composed; Hoekstra 1965: 120 and
Reece 1999–2000: 196–7 argue that the formula arose out of incorrect word
division early in the tradition. More important than the precise meaning of
the words is the sense of arcane propriety they convey: ritual language is
often obscure. For difficult Homeric words, see Introduction 2.4.

94–5 Hecuba should ask Athena to take pity and restrain Diomedes, cf. 96–
8n. Pity is a central concern in book 6, as it is also in books 22 and 24; see
Introduction 3. In this book the women and children of Troy are its focus:
Agamemnon has just urged Menelaos to spare no one, not even babies in
their mothers’ wombs; cf. 55–60n. Now Athena should take pity on the city,
the women and the little children: she will not, cf. 311n. Later Andromache
begs Hector to take pity on herself and baby Astyanax: 407n., 431n., with
405–39n. Hector does feel pity for her but must return to the battlefield
nonetheless: 484n., 485–93n.

94 Cf. Od. 13.182. αἴ κ᾽ ἐλεήσηι: in Homeric Greek, conditional clauses

with verb in the subjunctive (Aeolic αἰ = Ionic/Attic εἰ) can express a
purpose: ‘in the hope that she might take pity’. For ἐλεήσηι see 94–5n.

95 ἄστυ in Homer often refers to one's own city and therefore can have an
emotional appeal; cf. Schmidt 2006: 440–1. Such a connotation fits the
present context since ἄστυ is followed by mention of its women and
children. There might be an opposition with the citadel, πόλις ἄκρη (88n.),
where the temples are located; see also Lévy 1983; LfgrE s.vv. ἄστυ, πόλις/
πτόλις. Some of the best manuscripts accentuate ἄστύ τε, which may be
closer to ancient practice than the more widely attested ἄστυ τε; see M. L.
West 1966: 438–42; and Probert 2003: 148–50. καὶ νήπια τέκνα: formulaic
at the end of the line. νήπιος is someone who lacks experience and,
therefore, understanding. When applied to adults, the term implies
reproach; when used of children it underlines their vulnerability and need
for protection, cf. 400n. For discussion of its meaning and possible
etymology, see Edmunds 1990; and Ingalls 1998: 17–19 and 32–4.

96–8 The hope that Athena might take pity on the Trojans is translated into
a very concrete wish: that she restrain Diomedes. Helenos adds that he
believes him to be the strongest of the Achaeans: the description evokes
Achilles, cf. 98n. and 99–100n. Though the poet never calls Diomedes ‘best
of the Achaeans’, two characters do so during his aristeia: 5.103 and 414.
The poet calls Diomedes ἀνὴρ ἄριστος at 5.839.

96 αἴ κεν…ἀπόσχηι: cf. 94n. ΣAT ad 6.96a report that Aristarchus read ὥς

κεν, and the reading is also found in a few MSS. Aristarchus had strong
views about the proper use of αἰ (ΣAbT ad 1.100a, with Matthaios 1999:
375) and may have wanted to differentiate the second clause by giving it a
more obviously final force; on ὡς see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 267.
Τυδέος υἱόν: formulaic in this position; on Tydeus: 222–3n. ἱρῆς: a standard
epithet of cities and, especially, of Troy: the city was built by the gods
(21.441–9) and yet is doomed to fall; the gods will eventually punish the
Achaeans for their transgressions when they take it. The epithet draws
attention to the complex relationship between the city and the gods; see
further Scully 1990: 16–40.

97 ἄγριον αἰχμητήν: a striking juxtaposition. Describing someone as a

‘spearman’ usually implies a positive judgement; cf. 1.290, 5.602. ἄγριος is
less straightforward: it is used of animals or, in character speech, of enemy
warriors on a rampage (cf. 8.96, 21.314). The women of Troy pick up on
this description of Diomedes: Theano specifically asks Athena to ‘break his
spear’, 306n. Diomedes’ spear is also prominent in the intervening
encounter with Glaukos, cf. 126n., 213n., 226n. μήστωρα ϕόβοιο: a
standard phrase in this metrical position. μήστωρ (< μήδομαι, ‘contrive,
plan’; cf. ΣD ad 4.328) is closely associated with proficiency in battle.
Hector is described as a κρατερὸς μήστωρ ϕόβοιο at a point when he is most
frightening to the Achaeans: 12.39.

98 δὴ ἐγὼ…ϕημί: the particle draws out the implications of the previous

statement (cf. 52–3n.), and, as often, emphasises what follows. Helenos
polemically articulates his own assessment of the situation against what
people generally say; cf. ϕασί, 99–100n. Translate: ‘I, indeed, say that…’
κάρτιστον…Ἀχαιῶν: Diomedes is κρατερός in the previous line and more
generally in the poem (cf. the formula κρατερὸς Διομήδης); Helenos
develops this description of Diomedes and makes it much more extreme: he
now claims that he is ‘strongest of the Achaeans’. The phrase evokes
Diomedes’ exploits in book 5, cf. 96–8n., and recalls standard descriptions
of Achilles as ‘best of the Achaeans’, ἄριστος Ἀχαιῶν, cf. G. Nagy 1999.
Helenos continues by comparing Diomedes with Achilles; cf. 99–100n.
Parallels between these two heroes emerge also later in the book; cf. 120n.,
127n., 145n., 150–1n., 228n., 307n.

99–100 Helenos compares the present situation to previous experiences on

the battlefield, when Achilles was still fighting. There is some vagueness
about the past (ποθ᾽, ϕασί), which throws the immediate crisis into even
sharper focus. ὧδέ γ᾽ ‘so much’, γε emphasises the previous word and
draws attention to Helenos’ perception, cf. 16–17n. ἐδείδιμεν ‘we feared’;
pluperf. of perf. δείδω/δείδια (< *δέδϝοyα/*δέδϝια; cf. Chantraine 1948–53:
vol. I, 425). An alternative form of the perfect, δείδοικα, is also attested in
Homer: as often, competing forms of the same verb coexist. After singling
out Hector, Helenos returns to the inclusive 1st pers. plur., cf. 84n. As
appropriate for a speech of martial exhortation, he draws attention to the
Trojans’ shared experience in battle; cf. 70n. ὄρχαμον ἀνδρῶν: formulaic in
this position, and used of a wide range of characters. The etymology of
ὄρχαμος is unclear (perhaps of the same root as ἀρχ-: for discussion see
Chantraine 1999 s.v.); in the Iliad it is often treated as equivalent to ἀρχός,
‘leader’, and it sounds similar; cf. LfgrE s.v. ὄρχαμος B. For difficult
Homeric words, see Introduction 2.2. ὅν περ ‘the very man’ (41n.). ὃν…
ϕασὶ θεᾶς ἐξέμμεναι: that Achilles is the son of a goddess is central to the
whole Iliad and accounts for his exceptional strength and status; cf. 1.280,
etc., and Slatkin 1992. Here, Achilles’ genealogy is viewed from the
perspective of the Trojans, as distant hearsay.

100–1 The closing lines drive home the central point of Helenos’ speech:
Hector must go on his mission because Diomedes is rampant. ὅδε: the
deictic pronoun presents Diomedes as dangerously near; cf. Chantraine
1948–53: vol. II, 168–9. μαίνεται: a striking verb, especially at the
beginning of the line. It refers to extreme energy (cf. μένος), which usually
manifests itself in the form of battlefield frenzy; see Henrichs 1994: 43. It is
often used in character speech, in order to spur the addressee into action: cf.
389n. Diomedes is said to ‘rave’ in one other passage: 5.185–6. τίς οἱ: one
of the relatively rare cases in Homer where digamma before οἱ (personal
pronoun) is disregarded; cf. 90n. (ὅς οἱ). μένος ἰσοϕαρίζειν ‘match in
strength’. This is the manuscript reading, which also finds support in
papyrus 270 West. Bentley suspected the transmitted text because it
neglects initial digamma (ἶσος < ϝῖσος) and emended to ἀντιϕερίζειν. Kirk
1990: 101 accepts the emendation, but ἀντιϕερίζω in Homer means ‘pit
oneself against’, with defeat as the likely outcome, and is only used of gods
challenging other gods. Initial digamma cannot always be restored before
ἶσος and its derivatives (Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 144; LfgrE s.v. ἶσος E).
For μένος, see 26–7n.

102–9 Hector puts Helenos’ advice swiftly into practice, Aeneas is no

longer mentioned: 75n. A sequence of short δέ-clauses suggests brisk
efficiency: the first four describe Hector's actions; the next four report the
result. We then see the reaction of the Achaeans, who think that a god has
intervened; cf. 107–9n. The fighting that started in book 4 now draws to a
close as the Trojans make a stand and the Achaeans hold back. This
temporary break is marked by the encounter between Glaukos and
Diomedes, who meet ‘in the middle, between the battle lines’ (120); see
Introduction 4.1. It also enables Hector to go back to Troy: cf. 110–18n.

102 Hector is depicted as complying with his brother's advice, not as

eagerly welcoming the opportunity to return to Troy; cf. 72–118n. ὣς ἔϕαθ᾽:
cf. 51n. (ὣς ϕάτο). κασιγνήτωι: already at this stage in the book the poet
emphasises family relationships; cf. 76n. (Πριαμίδης).

103–5 = 5.494–6 ∼ 11.211–13. In all three instances Hector leads a Trojan

recovery.

103 This line occurs frequently in the Iliad: it typically describes a warrior
who, in response to exhortation, gets down to the task at hand, either by
facing the enemy or by rallying his own troops (as here). αὐτίκα: often used
when a character responds promptly to a speech (Erren 1970: 27–8). σὺν
τεύχεσιν: Hector is ready for combat; cf. 104n., 117–18n. His weapons
remain prominent during his visit in Troy: 318–20n., 467–70n., 494n.,
495n. and Introduction 4. ἆλτο: aorist of ἅλλομαι, ‘leap’; cf. Chantraine
1948–53: vol. I, 383. As often in Homer, forms with and without aspiration
coexist within the same family of words; cf. ἐπᾶλτο (rather than *ἐϕᾶλτο)
at 13.643, 21.140, but καθαλλομένη at 11.298.

104 πάλλων δ᾽ ὀξέα δοῦρα: Hector remains determined to fight, cf. 103n.
δοῦρα: 3n. πάντηι: Hector needs to rally the whole army before he enters
into the city; cf. Helenos’ advice: 81n. (πάντηι ἐποιχόμενοι) and 83n.
(ἁπάσας).

105 ὀτρύνων: Helenos told Hector and Aeneas to exhort the troops; now
Hector does so; cf. 83n. His speech of exhortation is delayed until 110–15,
when he tells the troops that he needs to return to Troy, cf. 110–18n. ἔγειρε:
literally ‘he awakened’. Early readers are likely to have felt the literal
meaning: cf. Solon, fr. 4.19 West, with discussion in Irwin 2005: 98. In
epic, ἐγείρω is frequently said of war or battle (Ἄρης, μάχη, πόλεμος,
ϕύλοπις), but its use is otherwise limited to people, animals, or their
fighting spirit (μένος, θυμός). ϕύλοπιν αἰνήν: cf. 1n. Hector's intervention is
about to rekindle the fighting; but the Argives withdraw, so the battle comes
to a temporary halt; cf. 107n.

106–7 Ἀχαιοί/-ῶν etc. is, for metrical reasons, favoured at verse end;
Ἀργεῖοι etc. at verse beginning, cf. Burkert 1998: 48, and 66n.

106 οἳ δ᾽: 9n. ἐλελίχθησαν ‘they turned round’. The verb is best analysed as
an aorist of ἑλίσσω, ‘turn around’ (perhaps < ἐϝελίχθησαν), though it is
identical with the corresponding aorist of ἐλελίζω, ‘shake’ (e.g. 22.448). For
the relationship between the two verbs, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 132.
In early epic the aorist ending -θην is often intransitive rather than passive.
καί suggests that the actions of turning round and making a stand are part of
the same process; cf. 1n. ἐναντίοι ἔσταν: all the Trojans make a stand. The
process of resistance began with Helenos (75n.), Aeneas and Hector (80n.).

107–9 The Achaeans suddenly retreat: they fear that a god has intervened.
In book 5 the gods repeatedly fought mortals on the battlefield, so their fear
is understandable: Introduction 3.1. This is Hector's most decisive
intervention since the fighting began in book 2 (Erbse 1979: 4).
107 λῆξαν δὲ ϕόνοιο: the idea is unusual. Homeric warriors are more often
said not to relent in battle because of their fury etc.; cf. Od. 22.63. ϕόνοιο
‘slaughter’. The ancient variant πόνοιο, ‘toil’, is less good. It might have
been inspired by Aristarchus’ theory that πόνος in Homer always describes
military action, with no implications of suffering; cf. 77n. and 524–5n.

108 ϕάν: unaugmented 3rd pers. plur. impf. of ϕημί. The verb often
features in Homer where we would use ‘think’, as here. τιν᾽ ἀθανάτων: in
the Homeric poems ordinary mortals are rarely in a position to identify
specific gods; by and large, they suspect the involvement of ‘the gods’ or ‘a
god’ in general; cf. Jörgensen 1904, and Introduction 3.1. Here, of course,
no god is involved at all. ἐξ οὐρανοῦ ἀστερόεντος: as ΣbT ad 15.371 point
out, the poet refers ‘not to the sky as it appeared then, but to its nature’ (οὐ
τὸν τότε ἀλλὰ τὸν ϕύσει), cf. Hes. Theog. 126–7 (Sky is born ‘starry’). The
gods who dwell in heaven are implicitly contrasted with ‘human beings
who walk on the ground’ (e.g. 5.442: χαμαὶ ἐρχομένων ἀνθρώπων).

109 ὡς ‘(seeing) how they turned round’; for the flexible use of ὡς, see
16.17, Od. 17.218, and cf. 262n. ἐλέλιχθεν: 3rd pers. plur. aor., ending in
-θεν rather than Attic -θησαν, as often; for the intransitive use of the form
and its derivation from ἑλίσσω, cf. 106n.

110–18 Hector has already urged the troops to fight (105n.), but his speech
of exhortation is delayed until now, because he must make one more
demand on them: he tells them to resist on the battlefield, so that he may go
back to Troy. Before Hector's intervention, all the Trojans were about to
return to the safety of the city and fall into the arms of their women (81–
2n.); so the announcement that Hector alone is going back is potentially
difficult to deliver. Hector's speech begins like a standard piece of martial
exhortation, which traditionally encourages solidarity among men on the
battlefield, cf. 112n. and Introduction 2.3. Then, the speech takes a
surprising turn (113n.): he announces that he must return to Troy to talk to
the elders and the Trojan wives and ask them to pray to the gods and
promise sacrifices. Hector makes three strategic changes to Helenos’
instructions (77–101n.). Rather than mentioning the old women, he refers to
the council of old men, thus avoiding the impression that he is moving from
the sphere of men (the battlefield) to that of women (the city), cf. 114n.
Secondly, Helenos’ emphasis on Hector's mother and personal family ties
(87n.) is replaced by a reference to all the Trojan wives. Rather than making
vague allusions to the women, or arousing suspicion by keeping silent about
them, Hector engages specifically with the men's desire to see their wives.
When he decides to look for Andromache, he is not acting behind the men's
backs (365–8 with nn.). Thirdly, rather than repeating Helenos’ detailed
ritual instructions (90–7 with nn.), he makes a general reference to prayer
and sacrifice: that is all the men need to know (115n.). Although he does
not stay with the other men on the battlefield, Hector feels bound by his
word to them also when he is inside the city: Introduction 4.

110 = 8.172 = 15.346, and many similar lines that introduce martial
exhortations, cf. 66n.

111 = 9.233 = 11.564, with Friedrich 2007: 110, who points out that
Hector's line replaces the more common, but blander, address Τρῶες καὶ
Λύκιοι καὶ Δάρδανοι ἀγχιμαχηταί (attested here in some manuscripts). The
Trojans and their allies are listed separately. Sometimes the term ‘Trojans’
is used of both the inhabitants of Troy and their allies (cf. 6n.), but there is
no other collective name to describe all those fighting against the Achaeans.
ὑπέρθυμοι: of individual warriors on both sides, and of the Trojans as a
group. In the Iliad the adjective is broadly positive; in the Odyssey and in
Hesiod it acquires negative connotations (of the Giants and Titans). Hector
uses it again at 20.366, to spur the Trojans into fighting against Achilles.
τηλεκλειτοί: a common epithet of the Trojan allies, emphasising their fame
and geographic diversity (cf. 14.321: Φοίνικος τηλεκλειτοῖο). An emphasis
on the far-flung allies of the Trojans was clearly embedded in the tradition:
in the Iliad Sarpedon and the Lycians fight on the Trojan side (e.g. 2.877:
τηλόθεν), as do Rhesos and his Thracian contingent. The even more exotic
Amazons and Ethiopians join the Trojans in the cyclic Aethiopis. ἐπίκουροι
is the normal term for ‘allied warriors’ in Homer and is most commonly
used of the Lycians; for discussion see Lavelle 1997: 230–5.

112 A common verse in the Iliad: injunctions to be men are always

addressed to groups of warriors (no individual is told to ‘be a man’ in the
Iliad) and are frequently followed by an appeal to male solidarity on the
battlefield; e.g. 5.529–32, with Graziosi and Haubold 2003: 68. In this case
Hector goes on to tell the men that he alone is about to leave for Troy: his
plan may seem to undermine any notion of male solidarity, but his
behaviour inside the city makes it clear that he feels bound by his word to
the men; see Introduction 4. Zenodotus read ἀνέρες ἔστε θοοὶ καὶ ἀμύνετον
ἄστεϊ λώβην. His reading is less idiomatic than that of the manuscript
tradition: the dual ἀμύνετον is problematic (ἀμύνετε Leaf, West), and the
phrase λώβην ἀμύνειν cannot be paralleled in Homer. Moreover, the noun
ἄνδρες is not normally qualified by adjectives in injunctions to ‘be men’.
Pace Rengakos 1993: 60, Zenodotus’ line seems to be a typically
Hellenistic attempt to make Homeric diction more sensitive to the
immediate narrative context: Introduction 6, see also Duentzer 1848: 147;
Kelly 2007: 392. ϕίλοι: the word suggests a sense of comradeship; cf.
Nestor's address, 67n. μνήσασθε δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς ‘remember your
courage’, i.e. ‘concentrate on it’; cf. LfgrE s.v. μιμνήσκω B. When Hector
enters the city, he refuses to drink the wine his mother offers him because
he is afraid that he might ‘forget his courage’; cf. 265n. On ἀλκή, see D. B.
Collins 1998: 78–125; and cf. 74n. (ἀναλκείηισι δαμέντες). θοῦρις (cf. masc.
θοῦρος) means ‘impetuous’, ‘rushing’ (esp. of Ares). The word acquired
negative connotations in post-Homeric poetry (‘furious’); e.g. Aesch. PV
354 (of Typhon).

113 ὄϕρ᾽ ἂν…βείω: an unusual development in a speech of martial

exhortation: usually the point is to achieve victory together, not for one
warrior to leave the battle line. (17.186–7 provides a partial parallel.) ἐγώ
marks a strong contrast between the role of Hector and everybody else's; cf.
86n. βείω: 1st pers. sing. subj. aor. of βαίνω, ‘go’, with Ionic metathesis
(βήω > βέω) and compensatory lengthening (βέω > βείω, with ει = ē); cf.
71n. (νεκροὺς…τεθνειῶτας). ἠδέ: 90n. γέρουσιν ‘elders’, usually honorific,
rather than simply indicating age (cf. γέρας, ‘gift of honour’); though in this
case only old men are left inside the city (cf. 3.146–53).

114 βουλευτῆισι ‘councillors’. The word is used only here. Unlike the
common term βουληϕόρος/-οι, it suggests a group of expert advisers
different from the men who fight on the battlefield. On councils and good
counsel in Homer, see Schofield 1999. Helenos gave instructions on how to
mobilise the old women of Troy (87n.); now Hector mentions the old men
instead: 110–18n. ἡμετέρηις ἀλόχοισι: rather than focusing on his own
family (87n.), or on the women of Troy in general (81–2n.), Hector
mentions ‘our wives’. The 1st pers. plur. suggests that he considers himself
part of the group he addresses: this is a typical pose in speeches of martial
exhortation; cf. 58n., 70n., etc. Hector attempts to retain cohesion among
men by addressing openly the very issue that might divide them: rather than
letting each man think of his own wife, he mentions them together and
makes them part of a common plan. For the danger that women may
weaken the solidarity of men on the battlefield, see Introduction 3.2.

115 The men need not concern themselves with the details of the ritual; cf.
Broccia 1963: 56. δαίμοσιν: the word emphasises the gods’ power to
determine people's lives, often in a negative sense (cf. δαίομαι, ‘apportion’);
it is not normally used in descriptions of sacrifice or prayer in early Greek
epic (though cf. Od. 15.261). Hector's words convey briefly how the wives
are expected to help. ἀρήσασθαι: cf. 240n. and 304n. ἑκατόμβας: literally an
offering of 100 oxen (ἑκατόν + βοῦς), though the word is used more
generally of any large-scale sacrifice, e.g. of lambs. Hector translates
Helenos’ precise instructions (93–4n.) into a general reference to a large
and proper sacrifice.

116 Speech-concluding lines typically offer guidance on how to interpret

the speech; cf. 51n. Here, Hector's words are immediately translated into
action: he leaves. The narrative may continue either with the character who
leaves or with those who stay behind, as is the case here. ἄρα is used for the
first time since line 75 and marks the moment when, after much
deliberation and preparation, Hector goes to Troy; cf. 232n. κορυθαιόλος ‘of
the gleaming helmet’, only of Hector and, once, of Ares: Stoevesandt 2008:
47; Introduction 2.2. The Homeric κόρυς is made of bronze, contrast κυνέη,
a leather cap: Borchhardt 1977: 58. For the accent, see M. L. West 1998–
2000: vol. I, XXI.

117–18 ‘And around him the dark skin – which circled the shield in a rim –
battered his shins and neck.’ Hector has slung his shield behind him: we see
his back, as he runs away towards Troy. On the poet's vantage point, see
Introduction 1. The animal skin that surrounds his shield forms a dark aura:
cf. the description of Agamemnon's weapons at 11.32–42; and contrast
Diomedes’ aura of fire at 5.4–7. For further discussion of such auras, see
Rollinger 1996: 159–66, who compares Near Eastern texts. Inside the city
of Troy, Hector remains swift and martial, just as he is now. ἀμϕὶ δέ μιν
‘around him’. τύπτε ‘battered’, cf. 11.306 (the West Wind batters the
clouds); and 11.560–1 (children beat a donkey). The word gives a measure
of Hector's strength and endurance: we are most certainly not witnessing a
cowardly retreat. ἄντυξ: the rim of a chariot or shield; probably predicative
(for the attraction of ἥ to the nearest noun ἄντυξ see Chantraine 1948–53:
vol. II, 19). Some understand it as an apposition to δέρμα (‘…a dark skin, a
rim which ran around the shield’). ὀμϕαλοέσσης ‘with a navel’ (ὀμϕαλός),
i.e. a central boss. The narrator has endowed Hector's body shield with
features that properly belong to the round shield; cf. Kirk 1990: 169–70;
and Stoevesandt 2008: 48.

119–236: The Encounter between Glaukos and Diomedes

119–22 The lines are carefully balanced, suggesting that both men are
eager to fight: note the arrangement of names and patronymics at 119 and
the use of duals at 120. Line 122 tips the balance, casting Diomedes as the
aggressor.

119 A solemn line taken up by the names of the two opponents; cf. 20.160.
Patronymics are standard (Introduction 2.2); but in the course of this
encounter we are shown in greater detail how fathers shape the aspirations,
character and fate of their sons: Introduction 4.1. Γλαῦκος is introduced first
and takes up most of the line, perhaps because this is the first time he plays
a prominent role in the Iliad; cf. Diomedes’ insulting remark: 124–5n. In
the Catalogue of Trojans he was introduced as second-in-command of the
Lycians after Sarpedon (2.876). Now that both Hector and Sarpedon are
unavailable (cf. 5.655–98; and ΣbT ad 6.124), he suddenly advances, eager
to prove himself. Given his lack of prominence earlier in the poem, the
audience may wonder whether he is equal to the situation in which he has
put himself – as does Diomedes, and indeed Glaukos himself; see
Introduction 4.1. Ἱππολόχοιο: a minor character, who, however, has great
influence on Glaukos: 206–11n. πάϊς: scanned as two syllables, as often in
Homer. Τυδέος υἱός: cf. 96n., 222–3n.

120 = 20.159 (of Aeneas and Achilles). συνίτην: i.e. they drew close to
each other on their chariots (cf. 232n.; and for εἶμι = ‘drive’, cf. 23.7–9); on
the dual, cf. 119–22n. μεμαῶτε μάχεσθαι: μεμαῶτε is the dual participle of
μέμονα, ‘be eager’. The phrase is formulaic in this position and presents
single combat as a matter of mutual agreement. ἐς μέσον ἀμϕοτέρων: the
two armies keep apart while Glaukos and Diomedes drive forward. The
phrasing makes it clear that battle is not about to resume, and that the two
warriors are about to engage in a duel; cf. Kirk 1990: 171 and 3.341,
23.814. In epic the phrase ἐς μέσ(σ)ον places an event, person or object in
the public sphere: e.g. 3.77–8, 3.264–6, 4.79–80, 23.704 and cf. ἐν μέσ(σ)ωι
at 3.69–70, 18.263–4; see Detienne 1996: 90–103. Two of the best
manuscripts (A and V in West's edition) read ἀμϕοτέρω, dual nominative
(‘both men’), as opposed to the genitive plural (‘between the two armies’),
but a reference to the Trojans and the Achaeans seems effective and likely
here. The same alternative readings are attested at 20.159 (where two papyri
confirm ἀμϕοτέρων, and their reading is followed by most editors) and at
23.814 (where recent editors prefer ἀμϕοτέρω). Fluctuation between duals
and plurals is attested in many other passages: see, for example, 5.156,
9.503, 22.396 and 121n. Aristarchus believed that Homer was an Athenian
and that, for this reason, he was fond of using duals: ΣA ad 13.197, cf.
Matthaios 1999: 381–2. Aristarchus’ theory may have inspired attempts to
correct plurals to duals where possible: this would help to account for the
frequent wavering between duals and plurals in the manuscripts.

121 δή: the particle highlights the confrontation; cf. 52–3n. ἐπ᾽…ἰόντες: the
manuscripts read ἰόντες, plural; this is not a problem after the duals of 120,
because, in Homeric Greek, plurals and duals are often used of the same
subjects within the same passage. It seems, however, that Zenodotus,
Aristophanes and Aristarchus read ἰόντε (dual); cf. 120n. (ἐς μέσον
ἀμϕοτέρων).
122 Diomedes has been on the attack since the beginning of book 5. Here,
again, he takes charge. προσέειπε ‘he addressed (him)’; ἔειπε is a
reduplicated and augmented aorist (*e-we-wkw; root *wekw, cf. Latin vox).
βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης: 12n.

123–43 For Diomedes’ speech as an example of ‘flyting’ (verbal assault),

see Martin 1989: 126–8; and, more generally on flyting, Parks 1990. The
speech is arranged in concentric circles: the cautionary tale of Lycurgus is
surrounded by questions about the identity of Glaukos and assertions that
Diomedes is ready to take him on; cf. Lohmann 1970: 12–13; and Kirk
1990: 172–3. The structure of the speech is not static: by the end,
Diomedes’ threats carry more conviction. On the dynamic use of ring
composition, Introduction 2.3. The most interesting aspect of the speech is
Diomedes’ insistence that he will not challenge the gods. This is a crucial
issue for him, both as the son of Tydeus and in light of his recent
experiences on the battlefield: see further Introduction 3.1 and 4.1. Yet it
also shows that Diomedes’ state of mind is similar to that of the other
Achaeans: 108n. We later discover that Glaukos wears golden armour:
audiences who already knew the conclusion of the episode may have
wondered whether his armour, as well as his sudden daring, prompted
Diomedes’ question; cf. 236n.

123 Construe: τίς…ἀνθρώπων (partitive genitive), literally, ‘who among

mortals’; cf. 15.247: τίς…θεῶν, ‘who among the gods’, with Janko 1994:
253. Diomedes is not simply asking for a name: he needs to establish
whether Glaukos is mortal, especially after Apollo warned him not to attack
the gods: 5.439–42; cf. Harries 1993: 136. δέ after τίς expresses his surprise
at seeing Glaukos (‘but who are you’?); cf. 55n., 1.540, 10.82, 15.247 etc.
ϕέριστε is a polite form of address (Bassett 1934: 144) but in this context
also suggests uncertainty as to whether the addressee is divine or mortal,
see Lowry 1995: 199; cf. 15.247, of a manifest god; and 24.387, of a god in
disguise. In the Odyssey ϕέριστε is ironic (cf. 1.405, 9.269), and some
degree of irony may be involved here too. καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων: the
epithet κατα-θνητός occurs only here in the Iliad, though it is more common
in the Homeric Hymns, the Odyssey and the Hesiodic corpus. It evokes a
range of similar attributes that define human beings as mortal; cf. Kirk
1990: 172.

124–5 Diomedes’ remark is meant as an insult: warriors are supposed to be

prominent: cf., for example, 4.340–8 and 5.2–3 (the latter of Diomedes
himself). Diomedes dramatises our own surprise at Glaukos’ sudden
appearance: we have not seen him on the battlefield either, in the course of
the Iliad; cf. 119n. Although the poem covers only a short period of time,
here as elsewhere there is a sense that the Iliad comes to represent, for the
audience, the whole war. μὲν γάρ: μέν points ahead to lines 125–7, γάρ
looks back to 123; cf. 26–7n. and 15n. κυδιανείρηι: from κῦδος, ‘glory’ and
ἀνήρ, ‘man’. Diomedes perhaps insinuates that Glaukos has not been acting
as fighting men should: Martin 1989: 127. The gods have κῦδος and they
typically bestow it on men (never on women), cf. Redfield 1994: 33–4.
κυδιάνειρα is one of the few positive epithets of μάχη (cf. 1n.); it is also
used of the assembly.

125–7 A stunning example of verbal aggression. Diomedes first describes

his opponent as moving forward on the attack (προβέβηκας, 125), then as
making a stand (ἔμεινας, 126), and finally, inevitably, meeting with defeat
(127).

125 τὸ πρίν: the ‘corrective’ enjambment emphasises the novelty of the

situation; see Introduction 2.1. ἀτὰρ μέν: the particles impel the speech
forward; cf. 125–7n. γε occurs several times in Diomedes’ speech (cf. 128–
9n.) and contributes to its animated tone: Diomedes is astonished at
Glaukos’ daring and is not quite sure what to make of it. On γε, cf. 16–17n.
προβέβηκας ἁπάντων: suddenly, Glaukos presents himself as the bravest of
the Trojans and as a match for Diomedes, ‘strongest of the Achaeans’
(98n.). His daring comes as a surprise to us as well as to Diomedes (119n.).
His motivations become clearer in the course of his own speech: cf. 206–
11n.

126 σῶι θάρσει: an undermining addition in progressive enjambment. The

only reason why Glaukos could possibly face Diomedes is ‘because of his
own daring’, and Diomedes goes on to suggest that Glaukos’ daring is
misplaced. ὅτ᾽ ‘because’. ὅτε is most commonly used in a temporal sense
(‘when’) but can also express a reason (‘since’), especially after νῦν (cf.
125). For its use and spelling in Homer, see Ruijgh 1971: 810–23, esp. 815.
δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος: the phrase is normally found at the end of the line: cf.
44n. Diomedes’ spear is the source of great concern in book 6: cf. 97n. and
306n. (and contrast the sense of relief at 213n.) ἔμεινας: the usual verb for
standing one's ground. Diomedes goes on to suggest that nobody can
withstand him (127n.) and Helenos has already said as much in his speech
to Aeneas and Hector (100–1n.).

127 = 21.151 (Achilles to Asteropaios; for the similarities between

Achilles and Diomedes, cf. 98n.). δυστήνων…παῖδες…ἀντιόωσιν ‘wretched
are the parents whose sons pit themselves against my might’; a memorable
phrase, evoking the common Homeric image of the grieving parent and
patronisingly treating Glaukos as young and inexperienced – fundamentally
a son. Elsewhere Diomedes boasts about causing grief to the wife and
children of his enemy (11.391–5). For grieving parents, cf. 59n. and Priam's
speech to Hector at 22.38–76, esp. line 59 (δύστηνον); for Glaukos’
characterisation as young: Introduction 4.1. δέ signals the main point after
the two μέν clauses. τε: Diomedes’ boast takes the form of a general
statement and is marked as such by the epic τε; cf. Ruijgh 1971: 1–60, 648–
50 (δέ τε) and especially 696. ἐμῶι μένει ἀντιόωσιν ∼ 21.431, in direct
speech, and expressing an extreme imbalance of power. On the meaning of
μένος see 26–7n. On ἀντιόωσιν cf. 16–17n. For the form with diectasis, see
6n. and 148n.

128–9 Diomedes’ speech takes a new turn. The scholia rightly point out
that he echoes the thoughts of the Achaeans, as described at 108 (ΣbT ad
6.128). οὐρανοῦ: Aristarchus recommends οὐρανόν (perhaps on
grammatical grounds, cf. ΣA ad 6.128c), but the accusative is not
commonly used to describe a point of departure, see Chantraine 1948–53:
vol. II, 112–14. εἰλήλουθας: perfect of ἐλθεῖν with long initial vowel; for this
way of spelling long ē, cf. 113n. (βείω). For εἰλήλουθας describing an
unexpected visit, see Létoublon 1985: 90–1. ἔγωγε: the third time in five
lines that Diomedes uses the particle γε, cf. 125n.; his tone is a mixture of
boasting (‘I know how to handle this’), uncertainty (‘who is this man?’) and
sarcasm (‘you know what I mean’); cf. Kirk 1990: 172. ἐπουρανίοισι: the
difference between gods and humans continues to be expressed with
reference to the space they inhabit: cf. 108n.

130–40 Diomedes’ cautionary tale falls into three sections: a brief

introduction (130–1), a conclusion that summarises the main point (139–40)
and a middle section that sets out the story of Lycurgus and Dionysos (132–
9). The framing sections use evidential particles to draw out the moral of
the story (131 ῥα, 139 ἄρ), which is simple enough: those who challenge the
gods come to grief. In fact, the events which frame Diomedes’ speech
suggest a more complex picture: Diomedes himself attacked the gods with
impunity in book 5 (see Introduction 4.1), while to Glaukos human fortunes
seem random and unpredictable (155–205n., 200–2n.); cf. Gaisser 1969:
175; and Scodel 1992b: 77–8. This is the only episode featuring Lycurgus
in extant epic, though Eumelos described the same incident in a now lost
epic and set it in Thrace, fr. 27 West; later sources suggest that Lycurgus
was a significant figure in Greek myth: Stes. fr. 234 Davies; Aesch.
Lykourgeia (Radt 1985: 234); and Soph. Ant. 955–65; ΣT ad 6.130, like the
tragedians, identify him as king of the Edonians. This is one of the few
passages which mention Dionysos in early epic, see Privitera 1970: 53–74.
Dionysos’ concerns (primarily: wine, revelry, madness, orgiastic sex, life
after death) are marginal to the Trojan saga and, as a god who blurs the
boundaries between gods and mortals, he may not suit a poem that insists
on the differences between the two (M. Davies 2000). In this episode he is
mentioned precisely as a limit-case: even the least martial of gods should
not be attacked. As a side effect, Diomedes’ choice of god ensures that he
pays no compliment to Glaukos: Dionysos is infantile, the only reason why
he should not be attacked is his divinity. Diomedes’ tale recalls specific
Dionysiac rituals (Granata 1991: 627; Henrichs 1994: 43–4; M. Davies
2000: 23–5), as well as evoking the themes and structure of the Homeric
Hymns, thereby further emphasising Lycurgus’ perverse behaviour. The
Hymns often start with the birth of a god, tell of his or her ascent to
Olympus and show how the newcomer is accepted by Zeus and the other
gods; see Clay 1989. This episode begins with a newborn Dionysos (132n.),
then follows him downwards, into the depths of the sea (136n.) and ends
with Zeus acting on his behalf (139–40). Hom. Hymn 26 (of uncertain date;
cf. Càssola 1975: 407–9 and 581) offers some close points of comparison,
as do Hymns 1, 3, 4, 7 and 19. We should not expect specific intertextual
allusions: the tale of Lycurgus recalls the Homeric Hymns because they
represent the appropriate genre in which to recount the adventures of a god.
For traditional story patterns, see Introduction 2.3.

130–1 οὐδὲ…οὐδέ: the expression is emphatic; cf. Chantraine 1948–53:

vol. II, 337–8. γάρ introduces an embedded narrative, as often in Homer; cf.
de Jong 1997. υἱός: the first syllable is open and hence measured short (hu-
yos). κρατερὸς Λυκόοργος: cf. the recurrent κρατερὸς Διομήδης, in the same
metrical position. Diomedes is exceptionally strong (cf. 98n.); yet in book 5
Dione claims that his κράτος is no adequate protection against the gods (cf.
5.410–11). δὴν ἦν: placed in necessary enjambment, this is the first of three
rhymes in Diomedes’ speech: cf. 139–40n. (using the same words in a
different metrical context) and 143n. For δήν, cf. Dione's complaint at
5.407.

131–2 ὅς ῥα…ὅς ποτε: the two relative clauses have complementary tasks:
the first states the main point of the story (ῥα + imperfect tense); the second
introduces a detailed account of what happened (ποτε + aorist). The first
clause matches closely line 129: Lycurgus did precisely what Diomedes
says he would never do; cf. also 140–1n. θεοῖσιν ἐπουρανίοισιν ἔριζεν: cf.
129 (θεοῖσιν ἐπουρανίοισι μαχοίμην) and 130–1n. for Lycurgus as Diomedes’
alter ego. ἔριζεν: translate ‘he challenged’; cf. Hes. fr. 30.23 MW. ἔρις is
thematic in the Iliad (e.g. 1.6) and central to the heroes’ existence (e.g.
Cypria, fr. 1 West, with Hogan 1981), but it is not an appropriate response
to a god.

132 μαινομένοιο: Dionysos and his followers were closely associated with
madness in ancient Greece; cf. Burkert 1985: 161–7. The god's madness
corresponds to the experience of his followers (Henrichs 1994: 41–7; cf. ΣA
ad 6.132a); for frenzied Dionysiac females in early hexameter epic, cf. Hes.
fr. 131 MW; Il. 22.460; and Hom. Hymn 2.386. For other uses of the verb,
see 100–1n., 160n. and 389n. Διωνύσοιο: in this passage and in Hom.
Hymns 7 and 26, Dionysos already displays the main characteristics we
know from later portrayals, esp. Eur. Bacchae. He is not virile (in this story
not so much effeminate as babyish), he shares the company of nursing
females in a bucolic setting (cf. the suckling maenads at Bacch. 699–702),
he is slighted by an aggressive man who fails to recognise his power and
eventually exacts his revenge not by using violence himself, but by relying
on female support. On the continuities in the portrayal of Dionysos, see
Wathelet 1991. τιθήνας: Hom. Hymn 26 tells us that Zeus entrusted baby
Dionysos to the nymphs of Nysa, but in the Iliad the identity of his nurses is
left entirely vague; Dionysos appears in the company of his nurses also in
later texts (e.g. Soph. OC 680).

133 σεῦε: a strong word, elsewhere used of chasing dogs and other
animals; cf. 11.293–4, 15.680–2, Od. 6.88–9, 14.35–6; Hom. Hymn 2.375–
9. ἠγάθεον < ἀγα- + θεός, primarily of places inhabited or frequented by the
gods (Vermeule 1974: 125–6). Νυσήϊον: the birthplace of Dionysos, also
called Νύση and usually described as a mountain (Hom. Hymns 1 A 9 West
and 26.5). Its location varies from source to source and its main
characteristic is remoteness (cf. Hom. Hymn 1 A 7–14 West; Hom. Hymn
2.17 with N. J. Richardson 1974: 148–9). Ancient readers already linked it
to the name (Dio)nysos: ΣT ad 6.132b. αἳ δ᾽ ἅμα πᾶσαι: Dionysos and his
retinue are persecuted as a group, as is typical of later stories of this type,
cf. Eur. Bacchae.

134 θύσθλα: objects associated with the cult of Dionysos, possibly thyrsos
staffs (Krauskopf 2001, esp. p. 47); though the exact meaning of this word
was debated in antiquity (ΣbT ad 6.134) and remains unclear today (LfgrE
s.v. θύσθλα; Kirk 1990: 174). As often, the language of cult is at once
precise and impenetrable; cf. 93–4n. The addition of θύσθλα in enjambment
makes it clear that Lycurgus is not simply chasing women but engaging in
an act of profanation. χαμαί ‘on the ground’ or ‘to the ground’, as here. The
word evokes Lycurgus’ violence: it is used of weapons or limbs falling to
the ground when somebody is killed or wounded; see 5.582–3, 13.529–30
and 578; cf. 16.802–3, 22.448. ὑπ᾽: best construed with Λυκούργου rather
than βουπλῆγι; cf. George 2005: 62. ἀνδροϕόνοιο: the epithet describes
warriors (mostly Hector), especially when they are seen through the eyes of
the enemy; cf. 498n. It underlines how inappropriate Lycurgus’ behaviour is
in this context; he is not about to kill a man; rather, he is attacking an
immortal god and his female retinue; cf. 137n.
135 θεινόμεναι βουπλῆγι: an extreme example of necessary enjambment,
which adds a shocking detail: the nurses are chased with an implement that
seems designed to coerce cattle. The precise meaning of βουπλήξ was
debated already in antiquity, but it was always taken to be formed on the
basis of βοῦς, ‘ox’, and πλήσσω, ‘strike’. Dionysos is often depicted as
having the attributes of a bull, cf. Eur. Bacch. 100, with Seaford 1996: 160.
ϕοβηθείς: for the meaning of ϕοβέομαι (‘panic, flee’ rather than simply
‘fear’), see 41n. Zenodotus read χολωθείς, ‘angered’, perhaps in order to
restore some dignity to the god, but this does not fit the story. For
Zenodotus’ preoccupation with ‘propriety’ (τὸ πρέπον) especially
concerning the gods, see van der Valk 1963–4: vol. II, 11–22. For an
alternative explanation concerning Zenodotus’ reading, see Nickau 1977:
193.

136 δύσεθ᾽ ἁλὸς κατὰ κῦμα: for the association between Dionysos and the
sea, cf. Hom. Hymn 7; Otto 1965: 162–4; Burkert 1985: 166; M. Davies
2000: 21, n. 22; LIMC s.v. Dionysos 788–90 and 827–9. Dionysos’
downward journey underlines Lycurgus’ crime: cf. the parallels with
Hephaistos’ fall from Olympus, discussed below. δύσεθ᾽: a so-called
‘mixed’ aorist, with σ and thematic vowel ε (Risch 1974: 250; Roth 1990);
some manuscripts have the form in -σάτο. Manuscripts often report
alternatives of this kind, and the matter was much debated also in antiquity;
cf. van der Valk 1963–4: vol. II, 172–4. Modern editors prefer the mixed
aorist here because it is better attested; cf. van Thiel 1991: xxv. κατά: cf.
κατέχευαν at 134. The downward movement is emphasised by the repeated
use of κατά. Θέτις also rescued baby Hephaistos when Hera cast him out of
Olympus and into the sea: 18.394–405, and cf. Hom. Hymn 1 as discussed
by M. L. West 2001b: 3. More generally, in the Iliad, Thetis is conceived of
as a primordial mother and a counterweight to Olympian power: Slatkin
1992. κόλπωι: the bosom, and more specifically the part of the peplos
which covers it in a deep fold (van Wees 2005: 7), see further 400n. The
nymphs take baby Dionysos to their bosom in Hom. Hymn 26.4; Eurynome
and Thetis welcome the newborn Hephaistos to their bosom at Il. 18.398.

137 Dionysos is depicted as utterly helpless. He deserves respect not on

account of his courage (he has none), but because he is a god. Diomedes
emphasises the categorical difference between gods and mortals and never
suggests that he is impressed by Glaukos’ daring. δειδιότα is used in
progressive enjambment, as often in epic. Thetis’ embrace is brief (contrast
18.394–405): the emphasis remains on the trauma sustained by Dionysos.
For δειδιότα (participle of the perfect δείδω/δείδια), cf. 99–100n. κρατερός:
cf. κρατερòς Λυκόοργος (130–1n.). All that seems ‘mighty’ about Dionysos
is his fear, though he is in fact much more powerful than his opponent. In
Hom. Hymn 7, Dionysos seems equally helpless until he reveals himself as
a καρτερὸς θεός (17–18). ἀνδρὸς ὁμοκλῆι: ὁμoκλῆι implies that Lycurgus
feels superior to Dionysos (cf. 54n. with 12.413 and Od. 17.189); ἀνδρός
exposes the fact that he is not.

138 This is the first line which does not start in enjambment since the
beginning of the story at 132. Lycurgus’ irruption had momentarily upset
the proper order of hexameter verse: Introduction 2.1. τῶι μέν prepares for a
shift in focus from Lycurgus to Diomedes; cf. 140–1n. (οὐδ᾽ ἂν ἐγώ). ἔπειτ᾽
signals a crucial turning point in the story of Lycurgus; cf. 37–8n. ὀδύσαντο
‘they became angry’. The verb is used almost exclusively of the gods: cf.
LfgrE s.v. ὀδύσ(σ)ασθαι. Whereas the Homeric Hymns typically end with
the gods rejoicing, this story ends with their anger. On the similarities
between Diomedes’ tale and the Homeric Hymns, cf. 130–40n. θεοὶ ῥεῖα
ζώοντες = Od. 4.805, 5.122, both in direct speech. The rare phrase pointedly
contrasts the carefree existence of the gods with the miseries of mortals (cf.
24.525–6). It also underlines the futility of Lycurgus’ violence: ultimately,
he cannot affect the gods’ blissful existence.

139–40 Zeus sides with the newborn Dionysos; for parallel patterns in the
Homeric Hymns, cf. 130–40n. καί: 106n. τυϕλόν: only here and at Hom.
Hymn 3.172 in early Greek epic; the standard word for ‘blind’ in epic is
ἀλαός. Blindness may be perceived as analogous to death (cf. 11n. and
formulae such as ὁρᾶν ϕάος ἠελίοιο = ‘to be alive’); it is a standard
punishment for transgressions against the immortals, cf. Hes. fr. 275 MW;
Stesichorus, fr. 192 Davies, and Graziosi 2002: 138–50. Κρόνου παῖς: cf.
234n. and Introduction 2.4. ἄρ: 130–40n. δήν < δϝήν: the last syllable of ἔτι
is measured long. ἦν: one of the bluntest cases of necessary enjambment in
Homeric poetry. The rhythm of line 139 comes to an abrupt halt, as does
Lycurgus’ life. Cf. 130–1n. for the same phrase in ring composition; on
rhyming words in Diomedes’ speech (δῆν || ἦν): 143n.

140–1 The point of the story is straightforward: the gods hated Lycurgus
for his behaviour, therefore Diomedes plans to act differently. Glaukos will
shortly use similar words in order to paint a different picture: for him, the
gods are inscrutable and their anger sudden and unpredictable: 200–2n.
Diomedes’ conclusion echoes his opening statement (128–9n.) but puts
greater emphasis on his intentions (ἐθέλοιμι): he has learnt from Lycurgus’
bad example. ἀπήχθετο: from ἐχθάνομαι, ‘become hateful’. Diomedes has
recently demanded Athena's friendship (5.117, ϕῖλαι), now he considers
what it means to be hated by the gods. οὐδ᾽ ἄν ἐγώ takes up 138n. (τῷ μέν),
and echoes line 139 (οὐδ᾽ ἄρ), with potential ἄν in place of evidential ἄρ.
For Diomedes and Lycurgus as contrasting foils, cf. 130–1n.

142 Diomedes returns to his original hypothesis: 123n.; for ring

composition, cf. 123–43n. οἳ ἀρούρης καρπὸν ἔδουσιν ∼ 21.465. Mortals
are grain-eaters, the gods are not: 5.341–2, 13.322; cf. Kitts 1994: 136–42.

143 ἆσσον…θᾶσσον = 20.429 (Achilles to Hector). Another striking rhyme

in Diomedes’ speech, cf. 130–1n. and 139–40n. Word play and rhymes are
common in epic, especially in speeches; cf. Macleod 1982: 50–3; Louden
1995; and Introduction 2.4. They are especially frequent in Diomedes’
speech and add to his aggressive and patronising tone. At 5.440 Apollo
used a similar jingle to put Diomedes in his place (ϕράζεο…καὶ χάζεο).
There is a sense that Diomedes is responding to his experiences in book 5;
cf. Introduction 4.1. ὀλέθρου πείραθ᾽ ἵκηαι: the phrase concludes Diomedes’
challenge in a grim and memorable way. It recalls phrases of the type
πείρατα γαίης (πείρατα = ‘limit’), though expressions such as ὀλέθρου
πείρατ᾽ ἐφῆπται (πείρατα = ‘bonds’) are also relevant, see further Bergren
1975: 35–40.

144–211 On this speech, and on Glaukos’ characterisation in the Iliad more

generally, see further Introduction 4.1.
144 There is no authorial comment rounding off Diomedes’ speech; this
line moves straight to Glaukos’ reply. αὖθ᾽: 73n. Ἱππολόχοιο: 119n. and
206–11n. ϕαίδιμος: 26–7n.

145 ∼ 21.153 (Asteropaios to Achilles). Glaukos rephrases Diomedes’

question (cf. 123n.), thus shifting the emphasis from his behaviour, as
compared with that of other men on the battlefield, to his identity as
revealed by his ancestry. Ultimately, it is because of his family connections,
rather than his prowess, that he survives the encounter with Diomedes:
212–31n. On Glaukos’ speech as a ‘lineage boast’, see Lang 1994. On
genealogy and personal identity in epic: cf. 206–11n.; Grethlein 2006a: 65–
84; and Introduction 2.2. Τυδείδη: 96n., 222–3n., 235n. Unlike Diomedes,
Glaukos knows the identity of his opponent. τίη: 55n. Translate ‘why
ever?’. γενεήν: an individual family line, a generation (e.g. 1.250), or an
entire race (Hes. Op. 160). Glaukos exploits the semantic range: 146n. and
149n.

146–9 The simile of the leaves, much admired also in antiquity: 146n. The
basic comparison between leaves and human life seems to have been a
widespread motif: cf. 21.464–6; Musaeus, fr. 5 DK; Mimnermus, fr. 2 West;
Aristoph. Birds 685; for further discussion see Sider 1996; Susanetti 1999;
Burgess 2001: 117–26; and Grethlein 2006a: 85–94. Glaukos employs the
motif as a form of εἰκάζειν, a comparison calculated to gain the rhetorical
upper hand; cf. Pelliccia 2002. Glaukos’ formulation emphasises the shared
fate of all humankind (147–8n.), thus implicitly revealing that he is not a
god (cf. 128–9n.) and exposing Diomedes’ boasts as futile (cf. 123–43n.).
The passage sets the tone for the rest of Glaukos’ speech: although he
eventually gives a long genealogical account of himself, he emphasises the
vagaries of human fate (cf. 147n., 150–211n.).

146 Simonides praises this line as ‘the finest thing the Chian man said’ (fr.
19.1–2 West): this is the earliest explicit quotation from the Iliad; see
Introduction 2. Simonides goes on to complain that although the phrase
rings in people's ears, few take it to heart: most people insist on nourishing
empty hopes for themselves (19.3–5 West). Although Simonides treats the
line as a nugget of Homeric wisdom, his interpretation also fits the context
in which the line is uttered: Glaukos suggests that Diomedes’ interest in
individual identity and achievement is futile; cf. 150–1n. οἵη…τοίη: the
placing of these two words makes the line balanced and memorable; on
rhyming words, cf. 143n. This line can stand on its own, with οἵη picked up
by τοίη, but Glaukos expands it into a longer comparison governed by ὥς
(149). περ invites us to contemplate the precise nature of the comparison;
cf. 41n. ϕύλλων: a pun on ϕῦλα, ‘tribes’, which is close in meaning to γενεή
= ‘race’; cf. the formulaic phrases ϕῦλ᾽ ἀνθρώπων and ϕῦλα θεῶν (e.g.
14.361, 15.51; cf. 5.441–2), and 148n. The version of the leaf simile
attributed to Musaeus makes the pun explicit: ὧς δὲ καὶ ἀνθρώπων γενεὴ καὶ
ϕῦλον ἑλίσσει (5.3 DK). Punning language is a feature of wisdom literature
and is also found in competitive εἰκάζειν. Here, it encourages a shift in
meaning from γενεή = ‘family’ to γενεή = ‘race’; cf. 145n. For δέ after
subordinate clauses, see Bakker 1997a: 70 and 475n.

147–8 The lines follow the seasonal pattern: first autumn, then spring.
Apollo at 21.464–6 and Mimnermus, fr. 2 West contemplate human lives
from youth to old age; Glaukos focuses on generational change, rather than
the life of an individual person (Piccaluga 1980: 248); for Simonides’
interpretation of Glaukos’ simile, cf. 146n.

147 μέν τ᾽…δέ θ᾽: generalising τε; cf. 127n. The combination of μέν τε and
δέ τε is found only eight times in Homer (Ruijgh 1971: 662), in similes or
maxims. Glaukos chooses a particularly rare and striking way of expressing
a timeless truth. ἄνεμος…ὕλη: Diomedes emphasised human choice,
Glaukos likens human beings to leaves entirely at the mercy of the winds
and seasons; cf. 146–9n., Introduction 4.1. ἄνεμος χαμάδις χέει: trees lose
their leaves in autumn (cf. Hes. Op. 417–21; Od. 5.483–5); winds announce
the arrival of the cold season (Hes. Op. 504–11 and fr. 204.124–6 MW):
seasonal change is implied here and explicitly mentioned in the next line.

148 Aristophanes of Byzantium read: τηλεθόωντα ϕύει, ἔαρος δ᾽ ἐπιγίνεται

ὥρηι ‘the wood generates others as they bloom, and they appear again in
spring time’ (ΣAT ad 6.148a), thus keeping the focus on the leaves
throughout. Homeric similes, however, often veer off the immediate point
of comparison, so a parenthetic clause is not in itself unlikely: ‘the
blooming wood generates others, and springtime appears again’.
Aristophanes’ τηλεθόωντα cannot be right: τηλεθάω is never used of leaves
in early epic (whereas it is, conversely, used of blossoming woods, cf. ὕλη
τηλεθόωσα, Od. 5.63.), and the epic form of the participle is in any case
τηλεθάοντα (cf. 22.423 etc.), not τηλεθόωντα. ὥρηι is attractive, especially
in view of 2.468 and Od. 9.51; it is, however, problematic to accept only
half of Aristophanes’ text. For a close parallel see Mimnermus, fr. 2.1–2
West: ϕύλλα ϕύει πολυάνθεμος ὥρη || ἔαρος. τηλεθόωσα: a frequent epithet
of plants and especially trees (from a lengthened form of θάλλω,
‘blossom’). For the ending -όωσα with diectasis, cf. 6n. (ϕόως), and see
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 75–83. ϕύει echoes ϕύλλα above; for word play,
cf. 143n. and 146n. ἔαρος δ᾽ ἐπιγίνεται ὥρη: the seasons are closely
connected to the rhythms of ordinary human life in early hexameter epic: in
Hesiod's Theog. 901–3 the ῟Ωραι are born towards the end of the creation of
the universe, for the specific purpose of attending to (ὠρεύω) the works of
humankind; in the Works and Days those human activities are carefully
planned according to the seasons. In the heroic world, seasonal change
hardly features (Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 88–9); in the Iliad the noun
ὥρη (as opposed to the divine name) occurs predominantly in similes: 2.468
and 471, 16.643; cf. 21.450 (in direct speech).

149 After describing the seasonal cycle of nature from autumn to spring
Glaukos now inverts the order: human beings grow and then die; cf.
Susanetti 1999: 99–100. ὣς ἀνδρῶν γενεή looks back to οἵη περ ϕύλλων
γενεή at 146 (γενεή = ‘race’), suggests the idea of generational renewal
(γενεή = ‘generation’) and looks ahead to γενεή = ‘family’ at 151. For the
hiatus after γενεή see 8n. ὥς: 146n. ἣ μὲν…ἣ δ᾿: translate ‘one (generation)
…the other’. Grethlein 2006b: 8–9 insists on the translation ‘partly (the race
of humans)…partly’, but Glaukos uses the different meanings of γενεή to
forge a transition back from the general to the particular: cf. 150–1n.
(ἡμετέρην γενεήν). ϕύει: in the active, this verb usually takes an accusative.
The rule is broken here in the interest of creating a close verbal echo; cf.
Pelliccia 2002: 218–20 with reference to Hes. Op. 5. Translate: ‘thrives’.

150–211 After his simile, Glaukos offers a long account of his family
history, which he presents as a concession to Diomedes’ interest in his
identity (150–1n.). For all that Glaukos boasts about his ancestors and feels
he must not shame them (206–11n.), the overall effect of his genealogical
account tallies with his opening simile: human fortunes are changeable and
beyond individual control (Grethlein 2006a: 94–5). Genealogies can be
constructed in such a way as to converge on one individual, lending him
special strength and authority. In Glaukos’ account, Bellerophontes takes
centre stage (155–205n.) and is surrounded by minimal outlines of the two
generations that preceded him (153–5) and the two that followed (196–
210). The portrayal of Bellerophontes remains enigmatic, however: 155–
205n., 191n. Glaukos draws little attention to himself and is partly eclipsed,
in his own account, by the brief description of his cousin Sarpedon (198–
9n., 199n.).

150–1 = 20.213–14 (Aeneas to Achilles); for other echoes between this

episode and Achilles’ actions in books 20 and 21, cf. 120n. and 145n. The
line is disparaging: after the simile of the leaves, Diomedes’ interest in his
opponent's identity is presented as futile. Cf. Simonides, fr. 19 West,
discussed at 146n. ἐθέλεις: Glaukos echoes Diomedes’ ἐθέλοιμι at 141; cf.
140–1n. καὶ ταῦτα: the only lesson of any importance has already been
taught; for the dismissive tone, cf. 70n. (καὶ τά). δαήμεναι ‘learn’; inf. aor.
of a root da- (cf. διδάσκω), the present is not attested. ἡμετέρην γενεήν: the
phrase, placed in necessary enjambment, functions as a heading for the
genealogy that follows; cf. 206–11n. πολλοὶ δέ μιν ἄνδρες ἴσασιν: a
putdown, answering Diomedes’ insults (124–5n.).

152 ἔστι πόλις Ἐϕύρη: the formulation with ἔστι introduces an obscure
place that acquires sudden prominence; cf. 2.811–15 (Batieia), 11.711–12
(Thryoessa), 722–4 (Minyeios), 13.32–4 (an unnamed cave where Poseidon
leaves his horses), with Fornaro 1992: 40–3. Unlike the above parallels, this
passage lacks a connective particle, because it is the main clause in the
period that started at 150: ‘But if you want to learn those things too, so that
you may know well my genealogy, and many men know it, there is a
city…’ Ἐϕύρη: ancient readers (ΣAbT ad 6.152a-c) took this to be a
reference to Corinth. The idea is first attested in Eumelos, Corinthiaca, frr.
15–19 West, and became widely accepted: in the later mythographical
tradition Sisyphos did indeed come from Corinth (e.g. Pind. Ol. 13.49ff.)
and Bellerophon was thought to have tamed Pegasos in that city. (Pegasos
also featured on Corinthian coinage.) There is, however, no evidence that
Ἐϕύρη was an alternative name for Corinth in Homer (for Κόρινθος, see
2.570, 13.664; cf. Hes. fr. 204.48 MW). Aristarchus got round the problem
by claiming that Homer called the city ‘Corinth’ in his own voice, but
‘Ephyre’ in character speech; cf. Lehrs 1882: 228. A city called Ἐϕύρη, on
the river Selleeis in western Greece (Thesprotia or Elis?), is mentioned at
2.659, 15.531 and perhaps again at Od. 1.259. The Ἔϕυροι mentioned at
13.301 appear to come from Thessaly. In early epic, places of this name
seem shrouded in mystery: they refer to the distant origins of an exotic
piece of weaponry (15.529–34, Od. 1.259–62), a bride (2.659) or an entire
family (as here); for ancient and modern speculations about them, see Janko
1994: 85, 287. μυχῶι: the phrase suggests that Ephyre is located in a
secluded and hidden area; cf. Od. 3.263; Hes. Theog. 119 and 1015–16.
῎Αργεος: in epic the name is used of the city of Argos, of the Peloponnese
and even of the whole of the Achaean world, when contrasted to the city of
Troy: Wathelet 1992; Burkert 1998; and Cingano 2004. The latter meaning
is relevant here: though Glaukos now fights on the Trojan side, his family
originally came from a remote place in ‘Argos’. ἱπποβότοιο: cf. ἵππος,
βόσκω, ‘nourishing horses’; a frequent epithet of Argos.

153 Σίσυϕος: the well-known trickster (cf. Hes. fr. 10a.26 MW Σίσυϕος
αἰολομήτης), punished for his crimes with perennial suffering. The story of
how he tried to cheat death is not told in extant epic but is certainly old: cf.
Alcaeus, fr. 38a Voigt, and Theognis 702–12. Some crime against the gods
is implied at Od. 11.593–600 (cf. Od. 11.580–1, on Tityos). At Hes. fr.
43a.75–80 MW we hear that Zeus thwarted Sisyphos’ plans for his son.
Glaukos thus starts his genealogy with a character who challenged the gods,
much like Lycurgus in Diomedes’ speech (130–40n.), but fails to mention
his ancestor's crime: we are left to wonder how much Glaukos deliberately
leaves out, and how much he does not know; see Introduction 4.1. Later
Glaukos offers a similarly opaque account of Bellerophontes’ relationship
to the gods: 200–2n. ἔσκεν, like ἔστι at line 152, emphasises Diomedes’
ignorance; for the form, cf. 19n. κέρδιστος: a reference to Sisyphos’
notorious cunning. The superlative is directly derived from the noun κέρδος
(‘gain, advantage’): cf. 410n. (ἐμοὶ δέ κε κέρδιον εἴη), with Risch 1974: 89.
154 Σίσυϕος Αἰολίδης: a ponderous repetition of Sisyphos’ name in
progressive enjambment: it introduces the genealogy proper, see Fornaro
1992: 40, n. 68. Aiolos heads his family line in the Hesiodic Catalogue of
Women: frr. 9 and 10a.25–34 MW; cf. Od. 11.237. Γλαῦκον: a marginal
character; Glaukos junior seems to be named after the most insignificant
character in the genealogy he offers. For traditional stories linked to
Glaukos, son of Sisyphos, and other characters of that name, see Paladino
1978.

155–205 The rise and fall of Bellerophontes, the central character in

Glaukos’ genealogy. Most of Bellerophontes’ story follows a pattern
familiar from children's stories and folk tales; see Thompson 1955–8: T68
and cf. 160–5n., 170n., 178–86n., 178n., 187–90n., 191–5n. Pindar retells
part of Bellerophontes’ story at Ol. 13.83–92. Glaukos does not explain
why the gods suddenly forsook Bellerophontes: either he does not know the
reason or he does not want to reveal it; contrast Pind. Isthm. 7.43–8, though
Pindar too is reluctant to discuss Bellerophontes’ disgrace at Ol. 13.91.
Early audiences may well have thought they knew what had happened: cf.
200–2n., Gaisser 1969: 170–4; and Alden 2000: 138–9. Glaukos invests the
story of Bellerophontes with great significance, but it is hard to see what
conclusions should be drawn from it. At least two readings are suggested
within Glaukos’ speech itself: that of his father Hippolochos, who
uncompromisingly demands that Glaukos live up to the family's glorious
past (cf. 206–11n.); and that implied by Glaukos’ simile of the leaves,
which presents fate as variable and ultimately beyond human control (cf.
146–9n., Susanetti 1999). Diomedes draws yet another conclusion from
Glaukos’ account of Bellerophontes: 212–31n.

155 In Hes. fr. 43a.81–3 MW and in other sources, Bellerophontes is the

son of Poseidon; though in fr. 43a.82 MW, we are also told that he was born
‘to Glaukos’. It is not unusual for epic characters to have a divine and a
human father; cf. the traditional epithets for Heracles: Ἀμϕιτρυωνιάδης and
Διὸς υἱός. Later in this speech Bellerophontes is described as ‘the offspring
of a god’ (θεοῦ γόνος), but his relationship to the gods remains opaque:
191n., 200–2n. Bellerophontes shares some other similarities with Heracles:
he completes a series of challenges set by a king (cf. 1.78–86n.), he is a
monster slayer (cf. 179–83n.) and is famous both for his excellence and his
crimes (cf. 200–2n. and Introduction 4.1.) αὐτάρ marks an important
moment in Glaukos’ genealogical account; cf. 83n. ἔτικτεν: used of both
men and women. For the imperfect, see Kirk 1990: 178. Translate: ‘he
fathered’. ἀμύμονα: at the moment of his birth Bellerophontes is introduced
by his standard epithet: cf. 190n., and 216n. At 171n. ἀμύμων is associated
with the divine favour he enjoys. On the meaning of the epithet, cf. 22n.
Βελλεροϕόντην: never Βελλεροϕῶν in epic. Zenodotus discussed the
alternative form Ἐλλεροϕόντης, probably in an attempt to etymologise his
name (ἔλλερα = κακά; Ἐλλεροϕόντης = ‘killer of evil things’); cf. M. L. West
2001a: 43. The etymology of transmitted Βελλεροϕόντης is unclear and was
discussed also in antiquity; see Gaisser 1969: 169 with n. 15; von Kamptz
1982: 29 and 186; Watkins 1995: 385, n. 4; Katz 1998: 325–8; and
Stoevesandt 2008: 63–4.

156 We are not told why the gods favour Bellerophontes, though other epic
sources say that he was the son of Poseidon and some such connection may
be implied here: 155n., 191n. In the Hesiodic Catalogue of Women we are
told that Poseidon gave the magic horse Pegasos to his son Bellerophontes,
and that he killed the Chimaira with the help of the horse (Hes. fr. 43a.84–8
MW; cf. Hes. Theog. 325); others add that he used it to ascend to heaven,
but was thrown off (Pind. Isthm. 7.43–8; cf. Hes. Theog. 284–6, where only
Pegasos ascends to heaven). Here Bellerophontes receives more ordinary
gifts – beauty and lovely manliness – though they too turn out to be very
dangerous for him, 160–5n. κάλλος: a straightforward and positive quality
in some contexts (e.g. 21.108, of Achilles), though potentially destructive in
others (as Paris and Helen demonstrate). ἠνορέην ἐρατεινήν: usually, ἠνορέη
involves solidarity with other men and respect for their households
(Graziosi and Haubold 2003); but Bellerophontes’ manliness is qualified as
‘lovely’ (ἐρατεινή – the adjective is not otherwise used of men) and attracts
Anteia, thus bringing him into conflict with her husband Proitos: 160–5n.

157 ὤπασαν: a striking case of necessary enjambment, emphasising the

role of the gods in shaping Bellerophontes’ life. αὐτάρ οἱ Προῖτος κάκ᾽
ἐμήσατο θυμῶι: a drastic change of tone from Glaukos’ genealogical
catalogue. The particle αὐτάρ (83n., 155n.) marks a new phase in his
speech; the lack of an epithet for Proitos and the brisk κάκ᾽ ἐμήσατο add to
the sense that Bellerophontes’ life is being brutally disrupted. As it stands,
the line is also metrically uncomfortable: it disregards Hermann's bridge,
see Introduction 2.1. Aristarchus read κακὰ μήσατο, which ensures metrical
regularity (cf. 10.52, 14.253, and Od. 24.199); but the transmitted text
should not be emended for the sake of smoothness; cf. van Thiel 1991:
xxiv–xxvii. Προῖτος: only here in the Iliad and Odyssey but prominent in
the Hesiodic Catalogue of Women: fr. 37.10 MW implies that he rules in
Argos; fr. 129.10–17 MW seems to claim that his brother Akrisios rules in
Argos, whereas he founds Tiryns. Bacchyl. 11.59–81 tells the story of how
Akrisios ousted Proitos from Argos. The Iliad remains vague about the
exact nature of Proitos’ power; cf. 158n., 159n. According to the Catalogue
and later authors, he is the husband of Stheneboia (fr. 129.18 MW) and
father of the Proitids (frr. 129–33 MW). His daughters angered Hera and
perhaps Dionysos (Henrichs 1974; M. L. West 1985: 78–9) and were
punished with madness; cf. Hes. fr. 131 MW; Bacchyl. 11.43–112. One
Hesiodic fragment (fr. 132 MW) mentions the Proitids’ μαχλοσύνη, a sexual
derangement affecting women (and Paris); cf. Hes. Op. 586. Here the
emphasis is on the sexual incontinence of Proitos’ wife: 160–5n. κάκ᾽
ἐμήσατο θυμῶι: the phrase functions as a headline; the poet then works
backward to the causes of Proitos’ evil plan (160–5n.), and describes it in
greater detail (167–70n.). θυμῶι: 51n.

158 ῥ᾽: 2n. Throughout this section, the particle ἄρα draws attention to the
details of Proitos’ schemes, and those of his father-in-law: cf. 167n., 177n.,
179n., 180n., 187n. δήμου: here, and more generally in early epic, ‘land’
and the people who inhabit it. Only occasionally does the term describe the
common people as opposed to the élite in Homer; cf. 2.198–9, 12.212–14
with LfgrE s.v. δῆμος B. ἐπεὶ πολὺ ϕέρτερος ἦεν: a standard formula. We are
not told exactly why Proitos is more powerful than Bellerophontes, though
the implication here, and in the next line, is that he has royal privileges; cf.
157n. and 163n.

159 Ἀργείων: best taken with δήμου (‘the land of the Argives’), rather than
ϕέρτερος (‘more powerful than the [other] Argives’). The difficult syntax
results in a ‘floating’ runover whose main effect is to suggest Proitos’
power over Bellerophontes, without going into any details about his exact
position in Argos (for the story of how Proitos was ousted from Argos by
his brother Akrisios, cf. 157n.). There is no need to suspect a later
interpolation, as Kirk does (1990: 179). Ζεὺς…ἐδάμασσε expresses Proitos’
power over Bellerophontes; the compound verb ὑποδάμνημι emphasises
Proitos’ position of absolute control and perhaps suggests the use of
violence (cf. Od. 3.304; Hom. Hymn 3.543); according to later sources (e.g.
Eur. Stheneboia, TrGF V.2 (61) F 661.16–18), Bellerophontes sought
Proitos’ protection after he had committed a murder. γάρ: 15n. οἱ
‘(subjected) to him’. The alternative reading μιν (‘him’, i.e. Bellerophontes)
looks like an attempt at clarification.

160–5 No women have been mentioned up to this point, although they

often feature in genealogical accounts; cf. 196n., 198–9n.; Hes. Catalogue
of Women. Now Anteia enters the narrative and defies female roles as
encoded in genealogical poetry (for which see, e.g., Osborne 2005): she has
sexual designs of her own and, when Bellerophontes rejects her,
manipulates her husband so as to ensure Bellerophontes’ death. She is the
only character whose words Glaukos reports verbatim (for speeches within
speeches in Homer, see Beck 2008, esp. 177–81). This is striking:
according to Telemachus, speaking is ‘the business of men’ (Od. 1.356–9).
The blunt and brutal way in which Anteia addresses her husband fits with
her disrespectful behaviour towards him. Bellerophontes eventually asserts
himself against transgressive women (178–90n., 186n) and lawfully marries
Anteia's sister (192n.). The story of Anteia and Bellerophontes is based on a
widespread folk-tale motif: a married woman tries to seduce a man of lower
standing, fails and accuses him of having tried to seduce her; for parallels
see Thompson 1955–8: K2111; Strömberg 1961; Astour 1967: 256–61; M.
L. West 1997a: 365; and Hansen 2002: 332–52. Stories of this kind often
involve reflections about divine justice. Cf. Eur. Hippolytus and the story of
Joseph and Potiphar's wife in the Bible, where we hear that ‘the Lord was
with Joseph and gave him success in whatever he did’ (Genesis 39:23; cf.
39:20–1). At first, Glaukos’ story seems to imply a similar moral, but the
gods’ attitude towards Bellerophontes is more complicated: 191n., 200–2n.
160 ἐπεμήνατο ‘went crazy over him’ (τῶι); the expressive compound
ἐπιμαίνομαι occurs only here in epic. For the sexual derangement which, in
other stories, affects the daughters of Proitos, cf. 157n. Madness is
mentioned repeatedly in book 6: 100–1n., 132n., 389n.; cf. Fineberg 1999:
18–21. δῖ᾽ ῎Αντεια: a standard noun–epithet combination; cf. 31n. Proitos
has not yet been honoured with one and is subordinated to his wife. For
traditional epithets as a means of drawing attention to significant characters,
see Bakker 1997a: ch. 7. Aristarchus took exception to the attribute δῖα,
which he thought inappropriate for a woman with adulterous designs: ΣA
ad 6.160a; for Aristarchus’ views on epithets see Matthaios 1999: 237–9;
and Fantuzzi 2001: 174–5. Some ancient readers tried to get round the
problem by declaring her name to be Dianteia (ΣbT ad 6.160c). Anteia was
not a well-known name for Proitos’ wife; cf. 157n. The name may suggest
ἀντίος, ‘opposite, against’; cf. 186n.

161 κρυπταδίηι ϕιλότητι μιγήμεναι: the exact wording is unparalleled in

epic, though cf. Mimnermus fr. 1.3 West. Similar formulations are used of a
male adulterer (cf. Hes. Op. 328–9) and, frequently, of gods mating with
mortal women (cf. Od. 11.244; Hom. Hymn 1 A 8 West); see also 25n.
Anteia is exceptional, as a woman, in taking the initiative, and her designs
remain unfulfilled. Later she claims that it was Bellerophontes who wanted
to have sex with her: on that occasion she uses a similar phrase in a more
conventional (and hence persuasive) way; cf. 165n. Bellerophontes is the
victim of other secret schemes: 167–70n., 187–90n.

162 Cf. Od. 1.43. πεῖθ᾽: trans. ‘could not persuade’: Stoevesandt 2008: 66.
ἀγαθὰ ϕρονέοντα δαΐϕρονα: in direct contrast to κάκ᾽ ἐμήσατο θυμῶι at
157n. ἀγαθὰ ϕρονέοντα seems to be modelled on more common phrases
combining ϕίλα, πύκα, ἀταλά, ἐΰ with ϕρονέω; and in opposition to the
frequent κακὰ ϕρονέων (7.70, in the same metrical position; 10.486, 12.67,
16.373, etc.). Here it comments on δαΐϕρονα, whose meaning was debated
already in antiquity: the scholia explain it either as ‘warlike’ or as ‘wise,
prudent’ (e.g. ΣbT ad 2.23a). Within the Iliad, several passages already
suggest those explanations: e.g. 5.277 καρτερόθυμε δαΐϕρον, and 11.482
δαΐϕρονα ποικιλομήτην. Glaukos suggests that Bellerophontes’ traditional
epithet δαΐϕρων (also used at 196n.) means he had ‘good thoughts’, unlike
those of the people who were plotting against him.

163 Glaukos bluntly presents Anteia's speech as a lie; the poet does not
usually introduce lies so explicitly (though Hera is often said to speak
deceptively: 14.197, 300, 329, 19.106) – thus keeping his own view in the
background; see Od. 14.191, 19.164, 24.243 and, for a partial exception,
Od. 13.254–5, with Higbie 1995: 72. Glaukos firmly controls our
perception of Anteia. The language of characters is often more partisan than
that of the poet: Introduction 2.4. βασιλῆα: after several expressions which
hinted at Proitos’ great power (158n., 159n.) he is finally called ‘king’
precisely at the moment when he receives orders from his wife. This is the
only time he is granted an epithet, and the word actually underlines his
subordination to Anteia; cf. 160n. (δῖ᾽ Ἄντεια).

164 Anteia moves swiftly and ruthlessly from cursing her husband
(τεθναίης) to ordering the death of Bellerophontes (κάκτανε). Her syntax
changes halfway through the line: τεθναίης suggests a conditional (εἰ μὴ…),
but Anteia switches to an alternative clause (ἤ); thus her curse (‘may you be
dead’) turns into a threat (‘kill him, or else die’). A change of rhythm (first
spondees, then dactyls) underlines the two options presented by Anteia.
τεθναίης: perf. act. opt. of (ἀπο-)θνήισκω. Only Achilles is this blunt in the
Iliad: 21.106 (θάνε), 22.365 (τέθναθι); cf. 18.98 (τεθναίην). κάκτανε: from
κατάκτανε (κατακτείνω), with apocope of the second α, assimilation of τ,
and simplification of the consonant cluster (*κάτ-κτανε > κάκ(κ)τανε); for
parallels: Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 87. This cacophonous word recalls
κάκ᾽ ἐμήσατο at 157n.

165 μ᾽: elided μοι, agreeing with ἐθελούσηι. The elision of the dative
pronoun is so harsh that MS Z West reads μ᾽ (i.e. με)…ἐθέλουσαν, which is
less good syntactically. For parallel cases of elision, see e.g. 1.170 and Od.
4.367, both in direct speech; cf. Wachter 2000: 75. ἔθελεν…οὐκ ἐθελούσηι:
Anteia's choice of words is again harsh and effective. There are similar uses
of ἐθέλω elsewhere (e.g. Od. 3.272 and 5.155) but her emphasis on who
wants what strikes to the core of the issue. ϕιλότητι μιγήμεναι: the same
phrase as in 161, and in the same metrical position: Anteia directly
contradicts Glaukos’ words; cf. 161n.

166 Proitos’ reaction is typical of the husband in this kind of story: e.g.
Genesis 39:19. ἄνακτα: cf. 33n. The word prepares us for the ease with
which Proitos dispatches Bellerophontes. χόλος: the flow of bile and hence
anger as an emotion; cf. Clarke 1999: 92–7. οἷον ἄκουσε ‘at what he heard’.
The phrase is modelled on exclamations of the type ὤ μοι Τυδέος υἱὲ
δαΐϕρονος, οἷον ἔειπες (8.152), ‘Oh son of valiant Tydeus, what did you
say!’ It suggests the lively tone of direct speech and helps focalise the scene
through the eyes of Proitos. For similar cases of embedded focalisation see
de Jong 2004: 118–22.

167–70 Proitos believes Anteia but is reluctant to kill Bellerophontes:

167n. Instead, he dispatches him to Lycia to Anteia's father, together with a
folded tablet containing the request that he be killed: 168–70n. Proitos’
reaction suggests weakness or indecision (contrast, e.g., the way in which
Odysseus deals with his wife's suitors: he certainly does not send them off
to Ikarios’ palace). In classical Athens, when the husband of an adulterous
wife stopped living with her, she usually returned to her family of origin
(Cohen 1991: 121–4; Cantarella 2009: 302). Here Bellerophontes receives
the treatment which – according to ancient audiences – Anteia deserved.

167 μέν: the particle cues us for Proitos’ alternative plan. ῥ᾽ takes the story
back to Proitos’ plot; cf. 158n. ἀλέεινε: the verb tends to be used when a
character avoids something dangerous to himself (e.g. κῆρα, βέλεα, etc.).
Anteia has just suggested that Proitos should either kill Bellerophontes or
die himself, 164n. We later find out how difficult it is to kill Bellerophontes
and how dangerous he is to those who try to do so: 178–86n. σεβάσσατο
γὰρ τό γε θυμῶι = 417n., where Andromache recalls how Achilles refrained
from taking her father's spoils. σέβας is a form of shame or awe which
prevents people from doing, or allowing to happen, something which they
feel is wrong or impious: Cairns 1993: 137–8. Proitos may be concerned
with the stigma that attaches to a murderer. In the Iliad σέβας and its
derivatives σέβομαι and σεβάζομαι only occur in direct speech and always
concern the behaviour of other people: the speaker thus expresses his
limited understanding of somebody else's actions; contrast the use of σέβας
in the Odyssey, where it always describes the speaker's own feelings; e.g.
3.123. τό γε ‘that particular act’. Glaukos emphasises the limitations of
Proitos’ piety: he shies away from attempting to kill Bellerophontes; but he
does arrange for him to be killed by someone else. θυμῶι: cf. 51n.

168–70 The narrative gathers momentum: Proitos’ plan unfolds and

Bellerophontes reaches Lycia in three brisk δέ-clauses. The sequence
culminates with αὐτάρ at line 171. Proitos’ tablets have been much
discussed. It is not clear whether he writes his message, uses a private code
or makes some kind of drawing: ancient readers already wondered about
different possibilities. More generally, the issue whether heroes could write
was much debated in antiquity: this passage fuelled that kind of speculation
without providing any straightforward answers (Maftei 1976: 29–33).
Modern scholars also debate what, if anything, the passage tells us about
early scripts, orality and the role of writing in the composition of Homeric
poetry: see 169n., and Introduction 2. The passage emphasises the cunning
and secrecy involved in Proitos’ plan but remains vague about how exactly
it is meant to work: Bassi 1997: 325–9. Clearly, Bellerophontes does not
understand that he is carrying his own death warrant: either he cannot
decode the σήματα inscribed by Proitos, or he does not open the folded (and
sealed?) tablets; cf. 168n. and 169n. The overall impression is that Proitos
uses, or even invents, a nasty trick very close to writing. For the related
story of Uriah in the Bible, cf. 2 Samuel 11:14–17. On Greek and Near
Eastern accounts of the invention of letters and writing, see more generally
Ceccarelli 2002.

168 πέμπε: cf. 171n. δέ: cf. 167n. (μέν). Λυκίηνδε: the connection between
Argos and Lycia features prominently in Diomedes’ reply: 224n., 225n. ὅ γε
marks Proitos’ alternative plan, contrast τό γε in the line above. σήματα
‘signs’; in Homer, the word σῆμα can apply to a range of phenomena which,
in particular contexts and circumstances, acquire a specific meaning; cf., for
example, 7.175–89 (the mark on Ajax's lot); 8.170–1 (thunder), 10.465–8 (a
landmark made by Odysseus in order to find his way back); Od. 11.126–32
= 23.273–9 (the oar mistaken for a winnowing fan: a wrong decoding which
in turn becomes a sign); 23.73–4 (Odysseus’ scar). The plural here suggests
the complexity of the signs inscribed in the tablets; compare 169n.
(θυμοϕθόρα πολλά) and contrast σῆμα in the singular at 176 and 178, with
176n. For discussion of Homeric σήματα see G. Nagy 1983; Steiner 1994:
10–29; Scodel 2002b; and cf. 418–19n. (ἠδ᾽ ἐπὶ σῆμ᾽ ἔχεεν). λυγρά: the
epithet λυγρός typically accompanies ὄλεθρος, destruction (16–17n.). Its
traditional connotation is relevant here: Proitos’ signs are meant to destroy
Bellerophontes; cf. 170n. (ὄϕρ᾽ ἀπόλοιτο).

169 γράψας: in epic γράϕω means ‘scratch’, and not necessarily ‘write’;
ancient readers already remarked on this: ΣA ad 6.169a; cf. LfgrE s.v.
γράϕω. The verb does not settle the question of whether Proitos wrote, used
some other kind of code or made a drawing: 168–70n. ἐν πίνακι πτυκτῶι: a
wooden diptych, perhaps coated in wax; cf. Kirk 1990: 181. A similar set of
tablets, from the Mycenaean period, has been found in the shipwreck of Ulu
Burun, off the coast of Lycia: Payton 1991, cf. Shear 1998, and Perna 2007;
similar tablets must have been in use also later, when the Iliad was
composed; see Heubeck 1979: 143–5. Brillante 1996: 41–2 argues that
Proitos’ tablets resemble ancient letters of reference. θυμοϕθόρα πολλά: the
signs scratched by Proitos are numerous and lethal. At Od. 2.329,
θυμοϕθόρoς (from θυμός and ϕθείρω) is an attribute of poison.

170 ἠνώγει: pluperfect of perfect ἄνωγα, ‘tell, command’, often used when
somebody gives an order from a position of strength and expects it to be
carried out. A range of forms is attested for this verb, not all of them easy to
categorise; see LfgrE s.v. ἄνωγα. Aristarchus recommended the alternative
form ἠνώγειν, which appears in some of the best MSS. Most witnesses read
ἠνώγει, however, and that must be the mainstream Hellenistic reading. ὧι
πενθερῶι ‘his father-in-law’. Since antiquity, commentators have speculated
about the man's name: ΣAT ad 6.170bc suggest Iobates or Amisodaros. The
fact that Glaukos only describes him as an in-law of Proitos and, later,
Bellerophontes (cf. 192n.) is significant: whereas in epic characters are
usually named and placed within a recognisable genealogical tree, folk tales
and children's stories often operate with anonymous types; cf. Thompson
1946: 456. For folk-tale motifs in Glaukos’ account, cf. 155–205n. For the
relationship between son- and father-in-law, cf. 167–70n. and 248–50n.
ὄϕρ᾽ ἀπόλοιτο: the elaborate and mysterious description of Proitos’ plan at
lines 167–70 ends with a brisk and chilling statement of its aim.

171 The line echoes 168 (cf. Λυκίηνδε in the same metrical position, πέμπε
∼ πομπῆι) but implicitly corrects what has been said before:
Bellerophontes may seem like a victim, but in fact enjoys divine support.
This shift is accompanied by a grammatical change: for the first time in
Glaukos’ speech Bellerophontes is the subject of a sentence. Up to now
things have happened to him; now we expect him to overcome any
impending difficulties. His success is embedded in the folk-tale pattern of
the story; cf. 160–5n. αὐτάρ: cf. 83n. ὅ: 9n. ὑπ᾽: cf. Eng. ‘under escort’; cf.
Od. 7.193 and Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 140. The ancient alternative μετ᾽
does not yield the required sense (μετά + dative = ‘among, in’). ἀμύμονι: a
standard epithet of Bellerophontes; cf. 155n. Here it characterises the divine
support he enjoys. πομπῆι: the help and support that is needed for a
successful voyage, in Homer usually of return journeys (a good host
provides his guest with πομπή at the end of his stay); see further Reece
1993: 39.

172–7 This section is made up of two, carefully balanced, three-line

components, each introduced by ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή. First Bellerophontes receives a
warm welcome and lavish hospitality (172–4); then we are reminded that
Proitos’ insidious message will precipitate the crisis (175–7).

172 ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή is often used to mark the end of a journey and resume the
narrative in a new setting. In Glaukos’ speech it marks four crucial stages in
the life of Bellerophontes; cf. 175n., 191n., 200n., with Broccia 1963: 92.
δή: cf. 52–3n. Ξάνθον: the defining landmark of Lycia in the Iliad. Mention
of the river Xanthos helps to set the scene for the second half of the story;
cf. 2.876–7, 5.479, 12.313. Several manuscripts transmit Ξάνθόν τε, which
may be closer to ancient pronounciation; cf. 95n. (ἄστυ).

173 προϕρονέως: Proitos’ father-in-law is not intrinsically evil. He gives

Bellerophontes a warm welcome and only changes attitude when he sees
Proitos’ message. τῖεν: proper behaviour demands that guests be honoured;
cf. Od. 20.129–43, and contrast Od. 22.414–15 = 23.65–6. For τιμή and
related terms, cf. 193n. ἄναξ: as with Proitos, the emphasis is on power and
social status; for the meaning of ἄναξ, cf. 33n. For the failure to name
Proitos’ father-in-law, cf. 170n. Λυκίης εὐρείης: the epithet is used to
characterise many geographical entities, but especially Troy, Crete and
Lycia.

174 ἐννῆμαρ…ἐννέα: the number nine typically indicates incompleteness

and ten invariably brings about an important change; cf. 2.326–9; LfgrE
s.vv. ἐννέα B 1; δέκατος B 1 a. For other significant numbers in Homer, cf.
421n. ἐννῆμαρ < ἐννέα + ἦμαρ, adverbial; cf. Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I,
212–13. ξείνισσε: unaugmented aorist of ξεινίζω. For the institution of guest-
friendship in Homer, see Reece 1993; for a broader discussion, see Herman
1987. For the original digamma (*ξένϝος > epic ξεῖνος, Attic ξένος), see
further Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 162. The form with double sigma
(contrast 217, ξείνισ᾽) closes the previous syllable; see Introduction 2.1.

175 ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή signals another turning point in Bellerophontes’ fortunes;

cf. 172n. and, later, 191n., 200n. δεκάτη: cf. 174n. (ἔννημαρ…ἐννέα). ἐϕάνη
ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς: a common formulation; the full-line version, ἦμος δ᾽
ἠριγένεια ϕάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς, occurs twice in the Iliad (1.477 and
24.788) and some twenty times in the Odyssey. The formula is adapted to
suit the context (cf. 9.707, 23.109), and the line presents a hiatus before
ἐϕάνη as a result of that adaptation. There are parallels for this kind of
prosodic licence elsewhere in Homer, cf. 8n. For discussion of metrical
irregularities stemming from the adaptation of formulae, see M. Parry 1971:
197–221; Hoekstra 1965. Formulaic descriptions of daybreak are a feature
of Near Eastern narratives. In the Poem of Gilgamesh they serve to structure
the story and mark important transitions, see M. L. West 1997a: 174–5 with
n. 15.

176 According to the etiquette of guest-friendship, a host must first

welcome his guest and make him comfortable then ask for his identity
and/or circumstances; cf. Reece 1993: 26. The king of Lycia entertains
Bellerophontes for nine days; then, however, instead of asking him who he
is or what he wants, he demands to see the tablets. This is when things go
wrong: the departure from traditional patterns of behaviour results in a
mistaken assessment of Bellerophontes; cf. 191n. The decisive break with
convention occurs after the main caesura, halfway through the line: ἐρέεινε
still fits with standard descriptions of guest-friendship; cf. Od. 4.61
εἰρησόμεθ᾽. As often, a departure from standard formulations indicates that
the story is taking a worrying turn. καὶ τότε μιν echoes the opening of line
175 and further emphasises that we have reached a crucial point in the story.
For καί after subordinate clause, cf., e.g., 1.494, with Denniston 1954: 308;
and Bakker 1997a: 79. μιν ἐρέεινε: μιν is measured long because ν is drawn
out and closes the syllable (cf. 501, Introduction 2.1). σῆμα: note the
singular; and contrast the plural at 168n. Glaukos has just emphasised the
complexity of Proitos’ signs (cf. 168n. and 169n.); now he presents Proitos’
whole message as a single and simple σῆμα. For a similar fluctuation
between singular and plural, cf. Od. 23.202 (Odysseus emphasises the
uniqueness of his marriage bed as a σῆμα) and 23.206 (Penelope sees it as
an image of the σήματα she shares with her husband; cf. Od. 23.109–10).

177 ὅττι = ὅ τι, ‘which’; the form tends to introduce a significant

subclause; see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 239. ῥά: after the interlude of
the hospitality scene, the particle takes us back to Proitos’ plan and
highlights the moment when his father-in-law takes over from him; cf.
158n. γαμβροῖο: here and at 249 ‘son-in-law’; the word can be used of other
relatives by marriage, see Gates 1971: 24. Glaukos emphasises again
Proitos’ reliance on his father-in-law; cf. 167–70n.

178–86 The king sets Bellerophontes three formal challenges: πρῶτον…

(179n.), δεύτερον…(184n.), τὸ τρίτον…(186n.); for the phrasing, cf. Hes.
Theog. 308–15. Bellerophontes meets them all and, after surviving one last,
treacherous attack, is rewarded with the hand of the king's daughter and half
the kingdom. The pattern is familiar from many folk tales (Thompson
1955–8: H1211) and resembles Heracles’ labours: for parallels between the
two characters cf. 155n. The challenges are arranged in decreasing order of
difficulty (Assunção 1997: 47): first Bellerophontes must vanquish a divine
monster, then a tribe of men, then one of women. The narrative gathers
momentum as Bellerophontes speeds through the challenges: four lines are
devoted to the Chimaira, two to the Solymoi and one to the Amazons.
178 αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δή: the cluster of particles marks the point at which the
king becomes hostile, cf. 175n. and 176n. σῆμα κακόν: for the singular, cf.
176n. (σῆμα). Bellerophontes’ story is built on stark oppositions, which are
typical of folk tales; cf. 157n. (κάκ᾽ ἐμήσατο), contrast 162n. (ἀγαθὰ
ϕρονέοντα). The apparent simplicity of the story ultimately emphasises its
ambiguous ending: cf. 155–205n. παρεδέξατο: the king instantly decodes
the message; contrast the elaborate and mysterious description of the
tablets: 168–70n. It will take him much longer to recognise that
Bellerophontes actually deserves good treatment: 191n. (γίνωσκε) γαμβροῦ:
177n.

179–83 The feat is mentioned also at Hes. Theog. 325, fr. 43a.87 MW,
where it is a sign of Bellerophontes’ excellence (ἀρετή), and divine
ancestry; here it has a similar function. On theogonic monsters and their
slayers, see Clay 2003: 151–61; and Haubold 2005.

179 πρῶτον marks the beginning of a catalogue; cf. 5n., 178–86n. μέν: cf.
183n. ῥα: cf. 158n. Χίμαιραν: literally ‘The Goat’; Hesiod also describes it
as part goat, part lion and part snake: Theog. 321–3. For visual
representations in Greece and beyond see LIMC III.1: 249–69 with III.2:
197–217. The monster was notoriously difficult to defeat, cf. Hom. Hymn
3.367–8 (οὐδέ τί τοι θάνατον…ἀρκέσει…Χίμαιρα δυσώνυμος); it is
associated with Lycia also at 16.326–9. ἀμαιμακέτην: the meaning and
etymology of the adjective are unclear. Ancient readers derive it from μαι-
μάομαι (‘be eager, rage’) or equate it with ἀ(κατα)μάχητος, ‘invincible’; see
ΣT ad 6.179. Pindar appears to have cherished the word for being suitably
grand and obscure: see Pind. Pyth. 1.14, 3.32–3, 4.208, Isthm. 8.35; and cf.
Bacchyl. 11.64. For discussion see Maehler 1982: 228; Braswell 1988: 291.
In the Iliad it is used only of the Chimaira and characterises her as sui
generis; cf. 16.329; and Hes. Theog. 319.

180 The line suggests that the task is impossible. The Chimaira is divine,
not human, yet Bellerophontes must kill her. He succeeds because he relies
on the help of the gods, cf. 183n. Through his achievement, he reveals his
own divine parentage, cf. 191n. πεϕνέμεν: see 12n. The word, in necessary
enjambment, comes as a shock. ἄρ draws attention to the enormity of
Bellerophontes’ task; cf. 158n. θεῖον γένος οὐδ᾽ ἀνθρώπων: as is typical in
the Iliad, a sharp distinction is drawn between the divine and the human.
Theogonic monsters, however, generally elude such straightforward
classification, and it soon turns out that the Chimaira is divine but mortal.
For the redundant phrasing, see Tzamali 1997. θεῖον γένος: the formulation
is unusual, cf. Op. 159 (of the race of the heroes). The closest parallel in the
Iliad is perhaps δῖον γένος at 9.538–40, if it refers to the boar sent by
Artemis, rather than to the goddess herself. See also δῖον γένος at Hom.
Hymn 1 A 3 West; and Hes. Op. 299.

181 = Hes. Theog. 323. The line is made up of three rhythmic units of
growing length; on ‘rising threefolders’, see Kirk 1985: 20–1. The rhythm
emphasises the composite nature of the beast, which is not assembled in any
‘natural’ order (back to front or front to back). λέων: the fierce animal par
excellence in early Greek epic and more generally in Greek and Near
Eastern iconography; cf. Lonsdale 1990; Clarke 1995; New Pauly s.v.
‘lion’. For composite monsters involving lions see also Reallexikon der
Assyriologie s.vv. ‘Löwenadler’, ‘Löwendrache’, ‘Löwenmensch’ (vol. VII,
pp. 94–102). δράκων: in the visual arts the Chimaira was depicted as having
the tail of a snake; cf. LIMC III.2, pp. 198–208. Snakes are associated with
fire at Hes. Theog. 825–8 and so is the Chimaira, both here and at Theog.
319; details, however, remain unclear: Kirk 1990: 183. χίμαιρα: an
incongruous animal, which becomes terrifying in context. The middle
section determines the name and gender of the beast: like many other epic
monsters, the Chimaira is female; cf. Clay 2003: 150–61, esp. 153.

182 = Hes. Theog. 324. δεινόν: best taken adverbially; cf. 3.342, 14.401,
Od. 12.236, etc. μένος: 27n. For fire and μένος see LfgrE s.v. μένος B 2 b α.

183 καὶ τὴν μὲν κατέπεφνε ‘and yet he killed her’, emphasising
Bellerophontes’ achievement against the odds; cf. 9.499–501 with Kühner
1904: 141. κατέπεϕνε echoes πεϕνέμεν at 180, in ring composition. The
challenge has now been accomplished. Pegasos plays a prominent role in
other accounts of the slaying of the Chimaira, cf. 156n.; ΣA ad 6.183a
remark on the fact that the horse is not mentioned here. Pegasos was
Poseidon's gift; the relationship between Bellerophontes and Poseidon
remains unexplored in Glaukos’ account; cf. 155n. θεῶν τεράεσσι πιθήσας =
4.398, of Diomedes’ father Tydeus. Both characters must prove themselves
in official contests abroad and must then withstand a final, treacherous
attack on the part of their host, which they do, heeding the warnings of the
gods: cf. 187–90n. τέρας is a portent, not simply a sign: LfgrE s.v. Both
warriors initially enjoy divine favour, both lose it eventually. The
similarities between Tydeus and Bellerophontes are significant, especially
since Diomedes is about to recognise in Glaukos a family friend: 212–31n.;
and Alden 2000: 137–42.

184–5 After defeating a monster, Bellerophontes proves his valour in war.

This progression matches the development from theogonic to heroic
narratives: for example, Hesiod's Theogony features the slaying of several
monsters while its sequel, the Catalogue of Women, seems to culminate in
an account of the Trojan War: fr. 204 MW.

184 δεύτερον αὖ: 178–86n. αὖ signals ‘continuation within a series

consisting of two (occasionally, more) members’ (Klein 1988: 251).
Σολύμοισι: all that we learn about the Solymoi in epic is that they live far
away, and that their land is mountainous: Od. 5.283. Hdt 1.173 identifies
them as an indigenous population of Lycia; the scholia also locate them in
southern Asia Minor: ΣT ad 6.184. Bellerophontes defeats them but does
not exterminate them. As Kirk 1990: 185 observes, they will come back to
haunt his offspring: 204n. This detail may explain why Herodotus and other
ancient readers thought of them as a local population. κυδαλίμοισι: from
κῦδος, ‘glory’, for which see 124–5n. The epithet is used of Menelaos and
several other Iliadic characters, though only here of an entire people.

185 ‘That, he claimed, was the hardest battle with men in which he had
engaged.’ καρτίστην: superlative of κρατερός, a frequent epithet of ὑσμίνη,
‘battle’. δή: 52–3n. τήν γε ‘that particular battle’. ϕάτο: cf. 98n. ΣbT ad
6.185 remark on the sudden intrusion of Bellerophontes’ point of view. The
passage reminds us that Glaukos himself is not an impartial narrator: he
heard the story from members of his own family; cf. 206–11n. The Solymoi
continue to pose a threat to the family in the next generation (184n., 204n.);
family views and traditions understandably focus on them. δύμεναι ‘sink
into, immerse oneself in’; root aorist of δύομαι; cf. δύνω/δύω. The verb
suggests eagerness to fight; cf. 11.537, 19.312–13, 20.76. It is used in a
wide variety of contexts, cf. 19n. ἀνδρῶν: see 178–86n.

186 τὸ τρίτον αὖ: 178–86n. κατέπεϕνεν: cf. 183n. Ἀμαζόνας ἀντιανείρας ∼

3.189. The epithet means ‘equal to men’, ‘manlike’ (on ἀντί, cf. 199n.); but
was also interpreted as ‘hostile to men’ (LfgrE s.v. ἀντιάνειρ(α) Σχ). In epic
the Amazons are described as a tribe of women who engage in war – an
activity which otherwise defines men: 492–3n. In the Iliad Priam claims to
have fought the Amazons as an ally of the Phrygians: 3.184–9; the obscure
Myrine, whose tomb is mentioned at 2.814, was thought to be an Amazon:
ΣD ad 2.814. In the cyclic Aethiopis the Amazons joined the Trojans
against the Achaeans, and Achilles eventually killed their queen,
Penthesileia: Proclus, Chrestomathy, p. 110 West. ΣT ad 24.804a and
papyrus 104 West both mention ‘the Amazon’ in lines which join the end of
the Iliad to the beginning of the Aethiopis; for discussion see M. L. West
2001a: 283–5. For the Amazons in ancient Greek mythology, see further
duBois 1982, Tyrell 1984, Blok 1995.

187–90 After the three official challenges, Bellerophontes must survive

one last, treacherous attack. The pattern is familiar from folk tales: the
brave little tailor, for example, meets three challenges set by the king,
marries the princess and is then ambushed by the king's servants in his own
bed; see Uther 1996: 110–19; for the folk-tale character of Glaukos’ story,
cf. 155–205n. The last, treacherous attack implies that subalterns cannot
expect fair treatment, but also marks the point at which the king loses
confidence. Tydeus, Diomedes’ father, survives a similar ambush after
winning a formal contest at 4.387–90. For similarities between Tydeus and
Bellerophontes, cf. 183n.; for specific verbal echoes, see also 187n., 189n.,
190n.

187 cf. 4.392 (of Tydeus). τῶι δ᾽ ἂρ ἀνερχομένωι ‘on his way back’; cf. Od.
4.529–37: Aegisthus ambushes and kills Agamemnon as he arrives home.
Both men are caught off guard, when they think they no longer face danger.
Ancient readers saw the parallels between the two passages, cf. 188n. Two
textual variants circulated already in antiquity: ἀπερχομένωι, ‘as he was
leaving’ and ἐπερχομένωι, ‘as he approached’. Hellenistic readers may have
objected to ἀνερχομένωι because Bellerophontes never leaves Lycia and
cannot therefore be said to ‘return’, if this implies ‘from another country’;
cf. ΣbT ad 6.186a, where the Amazons are thought to be an invading force;
and contrast 4.385–92, where, despite various textual problems, the verb
ἀνέρχομαι is hardly in doubt. Aristarchus certainly discussed the line, but
the scholia do not allow us to reconstruct with certainty his preferred
reading; see further Introduction 6. ἄρ: cf. 158n. πυκινὸν δόλον: a variation
on the formulaic πυκινὸν λόχον, for which see 4.392, 24.779, etc. The
emphasis here is on cunning and deviousness, cf. 3.202 δόλους καὶ μήδεα
πυκνά; but the expression also evokes other descriptions of ambushes,
particularly the attack on Tydeus at 4.392. The reading πυκινὸν λόχον is
attested in several medieval manuscripts. δόλον…ὕϕαινε: literally ‘he (sc.
the Lycian king) wove a plot’, cf. Od. 5.356 and 9.422. The verb is also
standardly applied to μῆτις, μήδεα, and emphasises the intricacy and
deviousness of the thinking involved.

188 ∼ Od. 4.530. Λυκίης εὐρείης: cf. 173n. The variant reading ἐείκοσι,
‘twenty’, is unmetrical but demonstrates that readers had Od. 4.530–1 in
mind. ϕῶτας: in epic, the noun ϕώς, ϕωτός is generally treated as a
synonym for ἀνήρ, cf. 17.377–8; the two terms are used in complementary
formulaic systems: e.g. ἀνδρὶ ἐοικώς after consonant, ϕωτὶ ἐοικώς after
vowel. Unlike ἀνήρ, however, ϕώς is used only in poetry and late prose; by
the Hellenistic period, it had a heroic ring; cf. Hom. Hymn 32.18–19; Ap.
Rhod. Argon. 1.1; Theoc. Id. 12.10–13. For the reception of Homeric words
in Hellenistic poetry, cf. 1n. (ϕύλοπις). ἀρίστους: the ambush is presented
as a context in which the best men display their valour; cf. 13.275–87.

189 εἷσε λόχον: factitive aorist of the root *sed- (cf. ἵζω, ‘sit down’). Lit.
‘he sat an ambush’, trans. ‘he set an ambush’; cf. 4.392, Od. 4.531 (in the
same metrical position); and Hes. Theog. 174. The difficulties of sitting still
and waiting during an ambush are emphasised at 13.280–5. τοὶ δ᾽…νέοντο:
an economic description; the next line explains what happened to them.

190 πάντας…κατέπεϕνεν ‘because noble Bellerophontes killed them all’, a

triumphant ending. Glaukos seems to revel in this straightforward
conclusion; on the tone of his speech and its affinity to children's stories,
see further Introduction 4.1. At 4.397 Tydeus kills all the ambushers but
one. Here Bellerophontes kills all his opponents and becomes himself the
survivor who returns to tell the tale. We are cued to expect that from now on
Lycia will be his homeland. ἀμύμων Βελλεροϕόντης: standard epithet of
Bellerophontes; it is first used at the moment of his birth, cf. 155n.; it now
features at the moment when his true nature is revealed, cf. 191n. Diomedes
will use it later, when describing his guest-friendship with Oineus; cf. 216n.

191–5 The king finally recognises that Bellerophontes enjoys divine

support, and the story of their confrontation ends like a folk tale: the king
grants Bellerophontes the hand of his daughter and half the kingdom; the
Lycians likewise offer him a prominent place among them. On folk-tale
elements, cf. 155–205n. This is not the end of the story, however: Glaukos’
genealogical account resumes at line 196 and eventually reveals a far less
comforting image of the gods and their relationship to Bellerophontes’
family: cf. 200–2n. and Introduction 3.1 and 4.1.

191 ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή announces another drastic change in Bellerophontes’ life;

cf. 172n., 175n. and 200n. γίνωσκε…ἐόντα: an apparently straightforward
recognition, which becomes problematic in the context of Glaukos’ speech.
According to the logic of the story, the king should finally recognise
qualities that are obvious to us. However, Glaukos never mentioned
Bellerophontes’ divine ancestry: he introduced him as the son of a mortal
man (155n.) and made no reference to the horse Pegasos, which was
traditionally the gift of Bellerophontes’ divine father, Poseidon (156n. and
183n.). In Glaukos’ speech, Bellerophontes’ relationship with the gods
remains obscure: the gods grant him beauty and manliness – gifts that
almost cost him his life: 156n., 160–5n.; and their portents guide him when
he confronts the Chimaira: 183n. Later, Glaukos says that the gods ruin
Bellerophontes, without explaining the cause of their anger: 200–2n. The
simple folk-tale ending in which the deserving champion wins the king's
favour is undermined here by Glaukos’ elliptical portrayal of
Bellerophontes and of his relationship to the gods. See further 155–205n.
and Introduction 4.1. θεοῦ γόνον ‘offspring of a god’, cf. γίνομαι, γενεή
(145n.). ἠΰν ‘good’, ‘valiant’, also in the form ἐΰς; cf. the adverb εὖ. The
gods are traditionally ‘givers of good things’, δωτῆρες ἐάων: Od. 8.325,
335; cf. Il. 24.528; and N. J. Richardson 1993: 330–1. For their gifts to
Bellerophontes, cf. 156n.

192 = 11.226, of a foster son who marries the daughter of the house.
κατέρυκε: normally against somebody's will (cf. 518n., LfgrE s.v. ἐρύκω II
2), but all power now rests with Bellerophontes. δίδου…θυγατέρα ἥν: the
girl remains unnamed: this is a characteristic of the folk tale; cf. 170n.
Bellerophontes marries Anteia's sister and thus becomes, like Proitos, the
son-in-law of the king of Lycia; on Anteia and Proitos, cf. 160–5n., 167–
70n. For δίδου, ‘gave in marriage’, see Scheid-Tissinier 1994: 106–10; and
Lyons 2003: 102. ἥν: originally with two initial consonants (*swe > ϝϝήν;
cf. Latin suam). Here they close, and thus lengthen, the preceding syllable,
as often elsewhere: cf. 5.371, 11.226, 13.376. See Chantraine 1948–53: vol.
I, 146.

193 Inheriting half the kingdom is a common folk-tale motif; cf.

Thompson 1955–8: Q112. In epic, couples usually settle in the husband's
ancestral home, but staying with the bride's family is also a possibility; cf.
248–50n. τιμῆς βασιληδος: the term τιμή refers to social status and its
material expression, in terms of power and possessions; for a helpful
discussion see Scodel 2008a: ch. 1. For the idea of sharing royal honours as
a sign of affection and respect, cf. 9.616.

194–5 ∼ 20.184–5 (Achilles taunts Aeneas because he will never receive a

plot of land in Troy).

194 καὶ μέν: the story continues; cf. 26–7n. Λύκιοι: a τέμενος is generally
the gift of an entire community, not of an individual. τέμενος: a plot of land,
lit. what is ‘cut out’ (τάμνω/τέμνω). The land is set aside by the people for a
particularly prominent member of the community, from whom they can in
turn expect leadership and protection; cf. 9.574–80, 12.310–21, 20.184–5.
A τέμενος can be inherited, but the moment when it is first cut and assigned
remains important and is evoked in the expression τέμενος τάμνειν; cf. 47n.
(κειμήλια κεῖται). How exactly a τέμενος was allotted, and from what land,
seems to have been unclear to the poet of the Iliad: see Link 1994, who
takes issue with Donlan 1989a. τάμον: unaugmented aorist of τάμνω, cf.
Attic τέμνω. The stem in α prevails in epic, though τέμνω is also attested
(Od. 3.175). ἔξοχον ἄλλων qualifies τέμενος here, though elsewhere the
phrase is used adverbially; cf. ἔξοχα (ἁ)πάντων at 14.257 etc., Od. 24.78;
Hom. Hymn 3.88. The transition from adverbial to adjectival usage is
facilitated here by the position of the verb τάμον.

195 ∼ 12.314, 20.185. καλόν: the alpha is long in early epic (< καλϝόν).
Beauty is often a quality that is added on after the main description, in
progressive enjambment; cf. 314n. ϕυταλιῆς καὶ ἀρούρης: the genitives
depend on τέμενος, cf. 9.578–80; translate: ‘comprising orchards and fields’.
ϕυταλιή, lit. ‘planted land’, usually of vineyards or orchards, as opposed to
ἄρουρα, ‘corn-land’. The Homeric τέμενος consists of first-rate farm land:
cattle and sheep are never said to pasture in a τέμενος; they are usually
herded in the mountains or near river banks, on less valuable land. ὄϕρα
νέμοιτο: the variant πυροϕόροιο is attested in some manuscripts, cf. 12.314.
The printed text retains the focus on Bellerophontes. νέμοιτο: the meaning
of Homeric ‘νέμομαι᾽ (middle) ranges from ‘have as one's portion’, to
‘enjoy’ or ‘consume’ (also of fire: 23.177), to ‘inhabit’ (frequently in the
Catalogue of Ships).

196–9 The speech changes tone: the tale of Bellerophontes seems to have
reached its happy ending, and Glaukos resumes his genealogical catalogue.
Each new character is now introduced briskly and with a name, contrast
170n., 192n. Bellerophontes’ downfall will dramatically interrupt Glaukos’
genealogical exposition: 200–2n.

196 ἣ δ᾽ ἔτεκε: women in their traditional role as wives and mothers

dominate the catalogue at this stage, contrast 154–5, and 160–5n. δαΐϕρονι
Βελλεροϕόντηι: 162n.

197 Ἴσανδρον: only here. Strabo read Πείσανδρον both here and at 203; for
ancient speculation about minor characters, cf. 21n., 31n. Ἱππόλοχον: cf.
119n. and 206–11n. Λαοδάμειαν: only here, though the name will not have
struck audiences as unusual, cf. Λαοδίκη (252n.), Λαοθόη (21.85, 22.48),
Λαονόμη (Hes. fr. 253 MW); and the masculine Λαοδάμας (15.516, Od.
7.170, etc.). Female names in epic are often based on male ones; cf.
Neumann 1991: 316. The wife of Protesilaos was also called Laodameia,
though her name does not feature in extant early epic.

198–9 The divine ancestry of Bellerophontes was never entirely clear, and
no specific god was mentioned in connection with his birth: cf. 155n., 191n.
Now Glaukos offers a straightforward account: Laodameia slept with Zeus
and gave birth to Sarpedon; cf. 198n. This is a high point in the family saga:
in early epic the gods choose the best women as their partners, cf. Hes. fr.
1.3 MW, ἳ τότ᾽ ἄρισται ἔσα . For Bellerophontes’ privilege in becoming
Zeus’s father-in-law, cf. 201n. Sarpedon, as the son of Zeus, eclipses
Glaukos (though he is now wounded and unable to fight: 78n.). Two of
Bellerophontes’ descendants die in the next lines: 203–5n.; while Glaukos,
a survivor, feels responsible for the reputation of the entire family: 206–
11n.

198 In the Catalogue of Women and Bacchylides, the mother of Sarpedon

is Europa: this makes him roughly three generations older than the Trojan
War and a member of the Inachid family; cf. Hes. fr. 140 MW = Bacchyl.
Dith. *10 Maehler; Hes. fr. 141 MW; ΣA ad 6.199; and Hdt. 1.173.
Glaukos’ version avoids the chronological difficulties posed by the
dominant genealogy and is consistent with the portrayal of Europa in the
Iliad: 14.321–2. See further Maftei 1976: 41–4. παρελέξατο: aorist of
παραλέχομαι, ‘go to bed (λέχος) alongside of’. In early Greek epic the verb
is used of gods sleeping with goddesses or women, exceptions: 24.676
(Briseis and Achilles); Od. 4.305 (Helen and Menelaos); Hes. fr. 176.6 MW
(Clytaemnestra and Aegisthus). Not normally of lawfully wedded human
couples. μητίετα Ζεύς: a frequent formula; for the μῆτις of Zeus, see Hes.
Theog. 886–900; Hes. fr. 343 MW; and Detienne and Vernant 1978: chs. 3–
4. The form μητίετα may derive from an older *mētiwetās, ‘rich in
intelligence’; cf. Meier-Brügger 1989.

199 ἣ δ᾽ ἔτεκ᾽: cf. 196n. ἀντίθεον: the epithet is used of many heroes and
expresses equivalence of power, rather than family resemblance; cf. ἀντί,
‘of equal value’, ‘exchangeable for’. Here, however, the genealogy
reinforces the epithet. Σαρπηδόνα: an important character in the poem who,
in may ways, acts as a counterpart to Hector. He too has a wife and child
(5.480), but they are safe in Lycia, so for him the war becomes a test of
more abstract notions of heroism. Sarpedon and Glaukos are cousins, but
Sarpedon is introduced much earlier in the genealogical account, giving the
impression that he is the older of the two. As the son of Zeus, he is an
emblematic figure of the mortal hero; see further Redfield 1994: 100–2.
χαλκοκορυστήν ‘bronze-clad’; cf. κορύσσω/κορυστής; in the Iliad otherwise
only of Hector. On bronze as the metal of heroes, cf. 3n.

200–2 The downfall of Bellerophontes. According to Pind. Isthm. 7.43–8

Bellerophontes tried to ascend to heaven on his horse Pegasos and was
punished for his arrogance. In that account he is presented as a man who
challenged the gods and came to grief, like Lycurgus in Diomedes’ speech;
cf. 130–40n. Glaukos, however, previously suggested that Bellerophontes
was an innocent man who suffered unjustly and, after many trials, managed
to win a princess and a kingdom: 191–5n. The story of his downfall is
delayed until the genealogical account which follows the folk-tale happy
ending: the reappearance of Bellerophontes at 200 is so abrupt that some
modern readers have been tempted to move lines 200–2 to somewhere else
(e.g. after 205), or remove them altogether; for a compelling defence of the
transmitted text, see Grethlein 2006a: 340–2. Glaukos delays his account of
Bellerophontes’ downfall and remains silent about its causes. He never
mentions Pegasos (cf. 156n., 183n.), though it seems that audiences linked
Glaukos’ account to ancient traditions about the horse: 152n. Because there
are gaps in Glaukos’ story, audiences of all times must have tried to
supplement it with what they knew or imagined about Bellerophontes. See
further Gaisser 1969; Alden 2000: 138–9; and on allusion in Homer,
Introduction 1. On Glaukos’ vagueness about Bellerophontes’ crimes (as
well as those of Sisyphos, 153n.; and perhaps those of Laodameia, 205n.),
see Introduction 4.1.

200 ∼ 140. For the parallels between Lycurgus and Bellerophontes: 200–
2n. ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή marks another reversal in Bellerophontes’ fortune; cf. 172n.,
175n., 191n. καὶ κεῖνος ‘he too’; looking back to the story of Lycurgus, but
also beyond, to the inevitable fate of all humankind; for a similar
formulation see 24.538, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπὶ καὶ τῶι θῆκε θεὸς κακόν. For an overview of
ancient and modern interpretations, see Avery 1994: 499, n. 8. The fact that
Bellerophontes is not named enhances the generalising rhetoric. For
Glaukos on the human condition, see Introduction 4.1. ἀπήχθετο: 140–1n.
πᾶσι θεοῖσιν: Glaukos remains vague about Bellerophontes’ downfall.

201 A lonely and nomadic existence is presented as the worst human fate
also at 24.531–3; see Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 141–2; and contrast
217n. ἤτοι is similar in meaning and grammatical function to μέν, but more
emphatic, cf. 404n. and 414n., Ruijgh 1996. The final syllable becomes
short: for diphthong followed by vowel, see Introduction 2.1. ὅ: 9n. κάπ <
κατά with apocope of final vowel and assimilation of τ before πεδίον; cf.
164n. (κάκτανε), and see further Wachter 2000: 88. πεδίον…Ἀλήϊον: the pun
on ἀλᾶτο (Rank 1951: 37–8) suggests that this is a place of wretched
wanderings, cf. 202n. (ἀλεείνων); White 1982: 126–7 discusses a striking
parallel in the Hebrew Bible (Genesis 4:12–16). Symbolically, the Aleian
plain is the opposite of the Ἠλύσιον πεδίον mentioned at Od. 4.563–9:
Menelaos will avoid all misery and toil in the Elysian plain, because he is
the son-in-law of Zeus; Bellerophontes, by contrast, is relegated to this
place of utter misery, even though he has just become the equivalent of
Zeus's father-in-law. Herodotus identifies a place called Aleion in Cilicia, to
the east of Lycia: Hist. 6.95. For ancient speculation on Homeric place
names, cf. 152n. (Ἐϕύρη). οἶος: loneliness is presented as a cause of
extreme suffering.

202 ὃν θυμὸν κατέδων expresses the physicality of grief, ‘eating his heart
out’, cf. Od. 9.75. Bellerophontes is depicted first as a monster-slayer, then
a warrior, and then a vagrant whose suffering is intense but ordinary; on this
life-trajectory, see Graziosi and Haubold 2005: ch. 5. πάτον ἀνθρώπων
ἀλεείνων: the verb puns on Ἀλήϊον and ἀλᾶτο in the line before; on word
play in Homer, cf. 143n. On ἀλεείνω = ‘avoid’ something harmful, cf. 167n.
Bellerophontes, who once defeated monsters and warriors, has now become
fearful of ordinary human beings. A similar expression describes an
uninhabited island at Od. 9.119.
203–5 Two of Bellerophontes’ descendants also meet a bad end. Glaukos
finally mentions specific gods, but his account again obscures any personal
connection between gods and humans. Ares generally represents war, so
Isandros is said to die in battle: 203n. Artemis often inflicts death on
women; if she has specific reasons to hate Laodameia, they are not
mentioned: 205n. On the portrayal of the gods in Glaukos’ speech, see
further Introduction 4.1. Glaukos adopts the briskly paratactic style of the
epic catalogue, cf. δέ at 203, 205, 206.

203 Ἴσανδρον: 197n. οἱ: the ‘dative of affect’ describes the death of
Isandros in terms of Bellerophontes’ loss. ῎Αρης: the god represents war at
its most senseless and destructive, cf. Burkert 1985: 169–70; Erbse 1986:
156. ἆτος: from ἄατος (Hes. Theog. 714) < *ἄ-σατος; cf. Latin satis,
‘enough’. Translate ‘insatiable’.

204 Bellerophontes defeated the Solymoi and now they kill his son: 184n.
μαρνάμενον > μάρναμαι, ‘fight’ (usually in battle). Unlike the common
μάχομαι, this verb occurs only in poetry.

205 Like her father, Bellerophontes, Laodameia first enjoys divine favour
(197n.) and then meets with divine hostility. Artemis is generally
responsible for the death of women: e.g. 428n., 19.59, Od. 11.171–3. In
those cases, however, she is not said to act in anger. Other women who
anger Artemis in epic are Niobe (24.605–9) and Callisto (Hes. fr. 163): their
story is told in detail. There may be a suggestion here that Glaukos is, once
again, failing to give a full account of his relatives’ faults, cf. 153n., 200–
2n. χολωσαμένη: cf. 166n. (χόλος). χρυσήνιος ‘of the golden reins’; a rare
epithet which Artemis shares only with Ares in extant epic; cf. Od. 8.285.
Gold features in Artemis’ standard epithet χρυσηλάκατος, ‘of the golden
distaff’ (16.183 etc.); this may have facilitated the choice of χρυσήνιος here.
῎Αρτεμις: an important goddess in cult, particularly for women, but
presented as infantile and generally marginalised as a character in the Iliad,
cf. 21.479–513. ἔκτα: athematic aorist of κτείνω, ‘kill’; see Chantraine
1948–53: vol. I, 380–1.
206–11 Hippolochos, the only survivor in his generation, does not
distinguish himself through his own actions and rests all his hopes on
Glaukos. The expectations of fathers are important also for other Iliadic
warriors (207n., 475–81n., 479n.), but the fluctuating fortunes in Glaukos’
genealogy make it especially important that he prove himself. The
concluding lines of his speech thus help to explain why he dares to face
Diomedes in battle and provide an answer to Diomedes’ aggressive
questioning (123–43n.). This passage and the speech as a whole show how
Iliadic warriors are motivated by their role in their family line as well as by
the desire to excel among peers; see Introduction 4.1. Note the many words
formed with the root gen- : γενέσθαι (206), γένος (209), ἐγένοντο (210),
γενεῆς (211). Glaukos concludes his speech in ring composition, by offering
a reflection on the nature and significance of genealogy; cf. 145n., 150–1n.

206 First the father generates the son, then the son pays homage to the
father. Ἱππόλοχος: 119n. ἔτικτε: as elsewhere, Glaukos emphasises
fatherhood (cf. 154–5, 209n. and contrast 196n.) καί: 1n. τοῦ: genitive of
the demonstrative pronoun ὅ; cf. 9n. ϕημί ‘I claim’, ‘I assert’; cf. 98n.

207 The father who instructs the son before he leaves for Troy is a
common motif. It often occurs in contexts where the son forgets, or fails to
heed, an important piece of advice; cf. 5.197–201, 9.252–9 and 11.785–90.
Τροίην: the region (e.g. 24.542) as well as the city itself (e.g. 1.129); cf.
Eustathius I, p. 723: 8–12 van der Valk. The name may derive from Hittite
Taruwisa/Tru(w)isa, a country mentioned in Hittite sources of the Bronze
Age; cf. Latacz 2004: 92–100. For a sceptical assessment of the evidence
see Heinhold-Kramer 2003: 150–6. καί: sending Glaukos and imparting
fatherly advice are part of the same process; cf. 1n. ἐπέτελλεν ‘instructed’.

208 = 11.784 (Peleus’ words to Achilles as reported by Nestor; contrast the

allegedly more moderate advice given by Menoitios to his son Patroclus:
11.785–9). A succinct and memorable statement of the Iliadic code of war;
cf. Kirk 1990: 187. Glaukos illustrates quite how difficult it is to put such
advice into practice. ἀριστεύειν: to be the ‘best’, ἄριστος. The verb is
relatively rare in the Iliad: it tends to be used when a warrior dies, or after
his death; cf., e.g., 460n., 7.90, 11.745–6. Hippolochos’ advice leads us to
expect a fatal confrontation; cf. 232–6n. ὑπείροχον: cf. ὑπερέχω, ‘surpass’.
For ει = ē, see 71n. (νεκροὺς…τεθνειῶτας), and 113n. (βείω).

209 The idea that men should not shame their ancestors is traditional in
epic and is particularly important for the relationship between father and
son; cf. Od. 24.508 (Odysseus tells Telemachus that they should not shame
their ancestors) and Od. 24.512 (Telemachus replies that he is up to the
task); cf. Crotty 1994, ch. 2, and Bouvier 2002a: 111–17. αἰσχυνέμεν
‘disfigure, spoil’ and hence ‘disgrace’ (cf. αἶσχος, ‘ugliness, object of
shame’); see also 351n. ἄριστοι: cf. 208n. (ἀριστεύειν). In fact, Glaukos’
ancestry does not provide straightforward models of excellence; cf. esp.
200–2n.

210 An elegant cap to the whole saga; cf. 152n. (Ἐϕύρη) and 168n.
(Λυκίη). Since it was Bellerophontes who moved from Ephyre to Lycia,
Glaukos implies again that he is the central character in the genealogy.

211 = 20.241 (Aeneas to Achilles). In this flyting exchange, Glaukos is

supposed to answer Diomedes’ boasts in kind. Now he finally manages one
boastful line, but it comes very late, and his family history ultimately
suggests that Glaukos still has everything to prove; see Introduction 4.1.
τοι: 49n. The dative of affect draws attention to the perceived needs of the
addressee: ‘here, for your benefit, is my genealogy’; ‘there you have it’.
The whole account was introduced as an answer to a futile request on the
part of Diomedes: 145n., 150–1n. αἵματος: see LfgrE s.v. αἷμα B 2; the
notion that members of the same family share the same blood is attested in
many cultures, cf. Eng. ‘blood relations’. εὔχομαι ‘I claim’ or ‘boast’. The
verb is often used to express pride in one's family or place of origin (LfgrE
s.v. (ἐπ)εύχομαι* B 2 d) but may also occur in a broad range of other
contexts: from prayer (304n.) to gloating over a defeated foe (e.g. 11.449);
see further Muellner 1976.

212–31 Diomedes’ reaction to Glaukos’ speech is astonishing: he is

overjoyed (212n.) and no longer wants to fight (213n.). Then he delivers
some ‘gentle words’ (214n.): he explains that there is an ancient bond of
hospitality between his family and that of Glaukos (215–21n.), and
concludes that they should avoid one another in battle (224–9n.). Finally, he
proposes that they exchange armour as a token of friendship (230–1n.). His
speech explains his reaction but in turn raises several questions. First,
Diomedes’ views about hospitality on the battlefield are unprecedented and
problematic: 224–9n. Secondly, his account of his family, while shorter and
sharper than that of Glaukos, seems to be equally selective: 222–3n.
Thirdly, the exchange of armour becomes a symbolic defeat for Glaukos,
rather than a token of friendship: 232–6n. The closest parallel to the
exchange proposed by Diomedes can be found at 7.277–312, for discussion
see Introduction 4.1. The theme of reciprocity is central to Diomedes’
speech and determines its form: cf. ἀλλήλοισ(ι)/ἀλλήλων at 218, 226 and
230, and the parallel structures at 219–20 (μέν – δέ), 224–5 (μέν – δέ) and
227–9 (μέν – δ᾽ αὖ); for the importance of reciprocity in guest-friendship see
Herman 1987. Diomedes persuades Glaukos, and he may initially persuade
us too; but eventually we realise that there can be no equality in friendship
between the two warriors.

212 ὣς ϕάτο, γήθησεν δέ: the phrase is traditional, and is sometimes used
when the listener realises that the speaker is on his side, cf. 17.567–8 and
Od. 18.281–3. The reasons for Diomedes’ spectacular change of attitude
emerge only later. βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης: 12n.

213 Diomedes’ spear is his most threatening attribute, both in his own
view and in that of his enemy: 97n., 126n., 278; the women of Troy
specifically ask Athena to break it: 306n. Tydeus too was famous for his
spear: 14.124–5. Now Diomedes plants his in the ground, thus suggesting a
formal end to his hostility: cf. 3.135. Later in his speech Diomedes qualifies
his gesture: his spear will avoid Glaukos but will continue killing other
Trojans and allies: 224–9n. ἔγχος: 31n. ἐπὶ χθονί: lit. ‘on the ground’; χθών
is the ground as a surface: objects can be placed ‘on’ it (ἐπί) or below ‘it’
(ὑπό), but not normally ‘in’ it; contrast the frequent ἐν(ὶ) γαίηι, ‘in the
earth’. Bekker's emendation ἐνὶ χθονί is unidiomatic, pace Kirk 1990: 187.
The focus now is not on the tip of Diomedes’ spear (contrast e.g. 11.378, ἐν
γαίηι), but on his conciliatory gesture (thus ΣAbT ad 6.213); cf. Hector who
later takes off his helmet and places it ἐπὶ χθονί, in order to reassure his son:
472–3n., with Di Benedetto 1998: 16. In hospitality scenes the host takes
the guest's spear before entering the house: that gesture may be relevant
here; cf. Od. 1.121, 127–9, 15.282, 16.40; cf. Hom. Hymn 3.6–9.
πουλυβοτείρηι ‘feeding many’, used only of χθών. On mortals as grain-
eaters, cf. 142n.

214 The line introduces Diomedes’ speech as an attempt to persuade

Glaukos; cf. 45n. αὐτάρ: 83n. ὅ: 9n. μειλιχίοισι ‘soothing, gentle’, often
taken to mean ‘honey-sweet’ in antiquity, as if derived from μέλι, ‘honey’;
for problems with this etymology see Chantraine 1937. The adjective is
used to introduce a persuasive speech, as opposed to a ‘blunt’ one (στερεός
12.267). A gentle speech can be experienced as devious or improper (cf.
343n. with 343–58n. and 359–68n.) and can provoke a ‘harsh’ answer (cf.
ἀμείλικτος ὄψ, at 11.137). Glaukos, however, is charmed: 232–6n. ποιμένα
λαῶν: a common description of leaders in epic, which expresses their duty
of care towards their people; cf. Haubold 2000: 17–24. Its use here draws
attention to a fundamental problem: Diomedes is about to strike a private
agreement with the enemy and envisages that it might harm other
Achaeans: 224–9n.

215–21 There are other examples of hospitality between Achaeans and

Trojans in the Iliad (cf. 3.207), but only here are the bonds of guest-
friendship invoked on the battlefield: 224–9n. and Introduction 4.1. Before
Diomedes explores how the rules of hospitality might apply to armed
combat, he establishes a tradition of guest-friendship between the two
families. Bellerophontes is, again, a key figure. Several details in Glaukos’
speech had suggested an analogy between Bellerophontes and Diomedes’
father Tydeus, cf. 183n., and 187–90n; now Diomedes reveals a connection
between Bellerophontes and his grandfather Oineus and then claims he does
not remember his father: 222–3n.

215 Diomedes is prone to omitting vocatives (as, indeed, is Achilles); cf.

Bassett 1934: 148. Here, his abrupt opening betrays his surprise. ἦ ῥά νύ
μοι: a lively opening, which suggests genuine excitement; cf. 3.183. ἦ: cf.
441n. ῥα marks the process of realisation, cf. 2n., 10n. μοι: cf. 211n. (τοι).
ξεῖνος: 174n. παλαιός ‘of old’; the adjective normally applies to old people
(e.g. 14.108) or people of earlier times (e.g. 11.166).
216 Οἰνεύς: father of Tydeus (cf. Οἰνείδης 5.813, 10.497) and Meleager
(2.641–2, 9.535 and 581–3), grandfather of Diomedes. In the Hesiodic
Catalogue of Women he is ousted by his brothers and reinstated by Tydeus,
who kills his uncles: Hes. fr. 10a.55–7 MW. At 14.118, Diomedes
suppresses some such story and describes Oineus as the best of three
brothers; cf. Janko 1994: 163–4. γάρ: 15n. δῖος: 31n. ἀμύμονα
Βελλεροϕόντην: the central character in Glaukos’ speech plays a crucial role
in Diomedes’ reply; on the epithet, cf. 22n. and 155n.

217 ξείνισ᾽: 174n. ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν: that Oineus is the host is an important
detail: cf. 202n. (on Bellerophontes as the homeless wanderer); 218n. On
the scansion of ἐνί, cf. 91n. ἐείκοσιν ἤματ᾽ ἐρύξας: an exceptionally long visit
inaugurates this important friendship. The number twenty is often used in
descriptions of lengthy periods of time, cf. LfgrE s.vv. (ἐ)είκοσι(ν) and
(ἐ)εικοστός.

218 καί: it seems that Aristarchus found the word superfluous (ΣA ad
6.218) although it is rhetorically effective: it presents an unusual gift
exchange as a natural consequence of Bellerophontes’ stay. ἀλλήλοισι: a
recurrent word in Diomedes’ speech; cf. 212–31n. ξεινήϊα καλά: gifts are an
important aspect of guest-friendship (for which, see 174n.). They are not
usually exchanged within the course of a single visit: normally, the host
offers a gift to the guest; cf. 18.408; Od. 8.389 and 24.271–3, with Reece
1993: 35–6. Perhaps Diomedes has conflated two visits; but it may be
significant that Bellerophontes reciprocates when he need not have done.

219 Οἰνεύς: 216n. μέν: cf. 220n. (δέ). ζωστῆρα: a warrior's belt; it was
probably made of leather and studded with metal: Lorimer 1950: 245–50
and Brandenburg 1977. Epithets such as παναίολος and δαιδάλεος elsewhere
characterise it as an artful and elaborate object. ϕοίνικι ϕαεινόν: cf. 7.305,
15.538, Od. 23.201. ϕοῖνιξ is a purple dye obtained from sea snails (Arist.
Hist. an. 546b-547b; Plin. HN 9.124–38), though the scholia claim that in
Homer it comes from the flowers of the holm oak (e.g. ΣbT ad 4.141d).
Objects dyed with ϕοῖνιξ were thought to be precious: cf. the cheek-piece
for a horse described at 4.141–5, and see Blum 1998: 68–75. It is difficult
to assess the value of Oineus’ gift relative to that of Bellerophontes’
offering: Donlan 1989b: 11–15 argues that Bellerophontes loses out, and
that his grandson Glaukos is about to make an even greater loss. This
conclusion stems from a rereading of Diomedes’ speech, in the light of the
authorial comment at the end of the episode: cf. 232–6n. Even the earliest
audiences of the Iliad may have been unsure about the relative value of the
two objects, at least on first hearing.

220 δέ after μέν in the line above emphasises the parallel between the two
men's gifts. χρύσεον δέπας ἀμϕικύπελλον: a cup is an appropriate gift (e.g.
24.234–7) or prize (e.g. 23.656). ἀμϕικύπελλον, a distinctive epithet of
δέπας, probably means ‘with handles on both sides’; ἀμϕί- compounds
often suggest perfection. The combination with χρύσεον is unique: this is a
particularly valuable cup; cf. Od. 3.63 (καλὸν δέπας ἀμϕικύπελλον).
Bloedow 2007 discusses the archaeological record. For the relative value of
this gift compared with that of Oineus, cf. 219n. Mention of gold prompts
Glaukos to part with his golden armour: 232–6n. and 236n. χρύσεον: read as
two long syllables, with εο as a diphthong.

221 For precious gifts that are kept at home, cf. 47n. and Reece 1993: 36.
It is not clear at this stage how the presence of the cup in Argos might affect
the situation on the battlefield. On the disruptive effect of war on peacetime
relationships, cf. 12–20n. μιν: probably ‘it’ (i.e. the cup), rather than ‘him’
(i.e. Oineus); cf. 9.364, for possessions left behind; and Chantraine 1948–
53: vol. I, 264 for μιν. ἐγώ: more emphatic than English ‘I’; translate ‘and I
then left it’. κατέλειπον: 222–3n. ἐν δώμασ᾽ ἐμοῖσι takes up line 217 and
emphasises that the home is the place where hospitality is displayed. The
issue becomes important later: 224–9n.

222–3 Guest gifts are tokens of social memory (Reece 1993: 35), and it is
surprising that Diomedes makes a point of not remembering his father in a
speech where he is trying to establish a connection between himself and his
‘paternal guest-friend’ (ξεῖνος πατρώϊος, 215). Ancient commentators
complain that these verses are inappropriate, ‘out of place’ (ἄτοποι); cf. ΣT
ad 6.222–3. However, they are highly effective in the context of Diomedes’
speech: Tydeus is a problematic role model, and Diomedes now distances
himself from him and tries to forge a relationship with Glaukos; cf.
Introduction 2.2 and 4.1. Contrast his boasts about Tydeus at 14.110–27.
τυτθὸν ἐόντα: the phrase evokes a well-established formulaic pattern
(ἔτρεϕε τυτθὸν ἐόντα, ἔθρεψε δόμοις ἐνὶ τυτθὸν ἐόντα) and reminds us that
Diomedes needed to be looked after. κάλλιϕ᾽: from *κάτ-λιπε > κατέλιπε,
‘he left’, with elision of final vowel and π > ϕ before rough breathing. The
verb, in necessary enjambment, reveals that Tydeus left his son behind and
played no role in bringing him up; for discussion see Pratt 2009, and
contrast Hippolochos’ active role in Glaukos’ upbringing: 206–11n.
Θήβηισιν: the city in Boeotia, known in epic either as Θήβη, singular, or
Θῆβαι, in the plural, as here. The ‘Seven against Thebes’ famously marched
against it, cf. 4.370–410 and the cyclic epic known as the Thebaid. The
descendants of the Seven conquered it, cf. 4.405–9, 20n. and the cyclic epic
Epigoni. In the Iliad the citadel of Thebes no longer exists; only a lower
city is mentioned: Ὑποθῆβαι, at 2.505. Two other cities called Thebes
feature in the Iliad: the fabulously rich Egyptian Thebes (9.381–4), and the
home town of Andromache: 397n. ἀπώλετο λαὸς Ἀχαιῶν: a formulaic
phrase that evokes the responsibility of leaders towards their people; cf.
214n. (ποιμένα λαῶν), and 327n. Diomedes depicts the Theban War as a
disaster; one implication may be that he needs to adopt a different set of
values. Ἀχαιῶν: 5n. The same term refers to the army of the Seven against
Thebes and those who took part in the Trojan expedition.

224–9 Diomedes states, uncontroversially, that Glaukos should be his guest

in Argos, and his host in Lycia. He then explores how they should behave
towards one another on the battlefield. First, he suggests that they avoid
each other's spears, even when they meet in the thick of battle (καὶ δι᾽
ὁμίλου). Then, he consoles himself by contemplating the many Trojans he
can kill and, in an act of reciprocity, encourages Glaukos to kill as many
Achaeans as he can manage, cf. 229n. (δύνηαι). This proposal echoes the
exchange of gifts between Oineus and Bellerophontes: cf. ἀλλήλοις at 218
and ἀλλήλων at 226; but the idea of trading off the lives of comrades as a
sort of gift exchange is problematic; on the importance of not pleasing the
enemy, cf. 82n. Diomedes implies that Glaukos may not be able to kill
anybody anyway, but his speech remains puzzling, and Glaukos’
endorsement of it even more so.
224 τῶ ‘therefore’: after dealing with Tydeus, Diomedes focuses again on
the friendship between his grandfather and Bellerophontes. νῦν: Diomedes
now explores the consequences of the past for the present situation. μέν: cf.
225n. ϕίλος: cf. 67n. For a similar friendship across battle lines (though not
at the expense of the larger community), cf. 7.301–3: there as here, nothing
more is heard of the friendship. At 21.106 ϕίλος is used of an enemy, but
sarcastically; cf. Goldhill 1991: 88–9. Diomedes’ attitude is in sharp
contrast to that of Agamemnon: 55–60n. ῎Αργεϊ μέσσωι: an important
qualification; Diomedes goes on to work out how he should relate to
Glaukos on the battlefield. For Argos as the home of Diomedes, cf. 2.559–
63 with Cingano 2004: 60–8; for Argos as Glaukos’ remote place of origin,
cf. μυχῶι Ἄργεος, 152n. μέσος is a frequent epithet of Argos especially in
the Odyssey; cf. the formulaic κατ᾽ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος.

225 Diomedes again qualifies his statement: Glaukos is his dear guest-
friend – especially if he were to visit him in Lycia; for a similar
qualification, cf. 229n. (ὅν κε δύνηαι). δ᾽ takes up μέν in line 224; for
reciprocal constructions in the speech, cf. 212–31n. τῶν: the Lycians.
δῆμον: cf. 158n.

226 ἔγχεα δ᾽ ἀλλήλων ἀλεώμεθα ‘let us avoid each other's spears’. The
assonance between ἀλλήλων and ἀλεώμεθα makes for a memorable turn of
phrase. The verb in the 1st pers. plur. suggests intimacy: cf. 58n., 70n., 99–
100n., 114n.; it is rarely used of warriors fighting on opposite sides, but see
3.94 (the truce is proposed) and 7.299 (Ajax and Hector exchange gifts in
an episode that echoes the present one). The printed text reflects the
Homeric notion of combat as deliberate confrontation: 17.373–5, 20.257–8;
cf. 126n. Many manuscripts and one papyrus read ἔγχεσι δ᾽ ἀλλήλων
ἀλεώμεθα. Zenodotus appears to have read ἔγχεσι δ᾽ ἀλλήλους ἀλεώμεθα: ‘let
us spare each other with our spears’. The variants suggest that ancient
readers were worried about the cowardice implied in ‘let us avoid’ and
suggested a more active and therefore heroic alternative: ‘let us spare’; cf.
ΣAbT ad 6.226a–c. However, ἀλέομαι is not construed with the genitive in
Homer, nor does it mean ‘spare’: it is best to account for that usage as an
attempt at improvement. ἔγχεα: on the prominence of Diomedes’ spear in
book 6, cf. 213n. ἀλλήλων suggests reciprocity, cf. 212–31n. and 224–9n.
ἀλεώμεθα: cf. 167n. (ἀλέεινε). καὶ δι᾽ ὁμίλου ‘also in the thick of battle’. The
prepositional phrase δι᾽ ὁμίλου is used elsewhere when one warrior singles
out and kills another in the thick of battle (cf. 12.191–2, 17.293–4); here it
emphasises Diomedes’ departure from conventional expectations. ὅμιλος
can refer to any crowd, but in the Iliad it usually describes the host of
Achaeans and Trojans fighting on the battlefield.

227–9 Diomedes devotes two lines to himself and one to Glaukos. The
exchange is supposed to be equal, but here and in other details we see the
balance tipping in favour of Diomedes, cf. 229n. (ὅν κε δύνηαι) and 232–6n.

227 πολλοὶ μὲν γὰρ ἐμοί ‘for there are many…for me to kill’, with ellipsis
of εἰσίν; cf. 229n. Τρῶες…ἐπίκουροι = 18.229, ∼ 3.451, 17.14 and many
related expressions: cf. 111n. Diomedes’ proposal ought to worry Glaukos:
he is talking to a Trojan ally about his eagerness to kill other Trojans and
allies, cf. 224–9n. κλειτοί ‘famous’ (κλείω); as an epithet of the Trojan
allies, κλειτός alternates with τηλεκλειτός, for which see 111n.

228 ὅν κε…πόρηι…κιχείω: Diomedes continues to emphasise the role of

the gods in his life, yet without detracting from his own ability. On double
motivation, see Introduction 4.3. γε qualifies the boast, adding an element
of piety; cf. 128–9n., 21.103–4. πόρηι echoes πόρον at 218: Diomedes
continues to adapt aspects of the ancestral gift exchange to the present
circumstances on the battlefield. καὶ ποσσὶ κιχείω: cf. 11.367 (Diomedes)
and 20.454 (Achilles). Swiftness is an important quality in a warrior, cf.
15.569–70. Achilles is the swift-footed hero par excellence, Diomedes is
the best of the Achaeans now that Achilles is away: cf. 98n., 99–100n.
κιχείω: aor. subj. κιχάνω may simply mean ‘encounter, catch’ (498n.), but
forms of the verb are also used of deadly and inescapable powers: cf., e.g.,
17.478 (death), 19.165–6 (hunger and thirst), Od. 9.477 (one's own evil
deeds).

229 πολλοὶ δ᾽ αὖ σοί echoes 227, thus suggesting a balanced exchange

between friends; for the difficulties involved, cf. 224–9n., 227–9n. αὖ: cf.
184n. (δεύτερον αὖ). Ἀχαιοί: cf. 5n., 222–3n. ἐναιρέμεν: cf. 32n. ὅν κε
δύνηαι: Diomedes doubts Glaukos’ abilities as a warrior, cf. Kirk 1990:
189. The scholia, by contrast, read the line as an attempt, on the part of
Diomedes, to give Glaukos some credit, cf. ΣT ad 6.227–9b. In his list of
casualties, Hyginus, Fab. 114–15, claims that Glaukos killed four people in
total during the war, whereas Diomedes killed eighteen: there is clearly a
disparity between these two warriors.

230–1 Diomedes suggests an exchange of armour, as a public token of

friendship. The offer is persuasive, but later the poet reveals that Diomedes
profited from the exchange, and that Glaukos was a fool to agree to it: 234–
6. Ancient readers worried about Diomedes’ apparent greed and also about
the wisdom of stripping on the battlefield: Introduction 4.1. Usually,
weapons are won as spoils: Nestor insisted that the Achaeans should not
stop and take spoils but concentrate on killing instead, see 66–71n.; now
Diomedes strikes a private agreement and gains an armour of gold without
fighting. ἀλλήλοις: cf. 212–31n., 224–9n. ἐπαμείψομεν ‘let us exchange’;
aorist subjunctive with short stem vowel, as often in early Greek epic. The
short vowel is older and survives in contexts where a long vowel is
metrically impossible (as here); cf. Introduction 2.5. The 1st pers. plur.
suggests intimacy, cf. 226n. ὄϕρα καὶ οἵδε || γνῶσιν: a striking case of
necessary enjambment. It reminds us that the confrontation between
Glaukos and Diomedes is on public display and forces us to consider how it
may look from the perspective of the Achaeans and the Trojans: cf. 120n.
(ἐς μέσον ἀμϕοτέρων). It is rare that the Achaeans and the Trojans are
referred to as one group (οἵδε). γνῶσιν is a contracted form of expected
γνώωσιν (1.302 etc.). ξεῖνοι πατρώϊοι: echoes 215 in ring composition,
though now the emphasis is on agreement. εὐχόμεθ᾽ εἶναι: a common phrase
in this metrical position. It echoes Glaukos’ boast at the end of his speech
(211n.): rather than a proud warrior, he is now Diomedes’ guest-friend –
and a dupe, as we soon discover: 232–6n. On the 1st pers. plur., cf. 226n.

232–6 The first two lines after Diomedes’ speech invite us to read the
episode as a rare example of human friendship across battle-lines; but in the
next three lines the poet exposes this reading – together with the exchange
of armour – as naïve. The last sentence forces us to reconsider the whole
encounter: it draws attention to an underlying imbalance between the two
warriors – an imbalance which Diomedes’ rhetoric of equality had
temporarily obscured – and poses some difficult questions about Glaukos’
motives and those of Diomedes: Introduction 4.1.

232–3 The seven spondees lend the lines an air of solemnity. The effect is
further enhanced by the rhyming verbs ϕωνήσαντε…ἀΐξαντε, and
πιστώσαντο, which round off the scene. Duals are rare in speech-
concluding lines and suggest harmony between interlocutors; cf. 10.349–50,
Od. 24.361. Here they recall the opening of the episode: 119–22n., 120n.
Normally, descriptions of single combat start with two opponents equally
eager to fight and end with a winner and a loser. Here it seems that the two
warriors are still on a par, but we soon realise that the exchange itself
produces a glaring inequality.

232 ἄρα: the evidential particle marks, as often, the transition from direct
speech to main narrative, cf. 116n., 312–13n., 369, 390n. and 494n. καθ᾽
ἵππων ἀΐξαντε: the movement indicates trust: warriors are sometimes killed
as they leap off their chariots, cf. 11.423–5 and 20.401–2. ἵππων: chariot
horses and hence the chariot.

233 For the shaking of hands as a way of ratifying an agreement see 2.341
= 4.159. Kitts 2005: 79–82 discusses the gesture in Greece, in the Near East
and in this specific passage. ἀλλήλων: a recurrent word in Diomedes’
speech, cf. 212–31n. πιστώσαντο: from πιστόομαι, in epic only in the
aorist. This is a rare verb and its meaning seems to fluctuate considerably
according to context, cf. LfgrE s.v. πιστώσασθαι; here: ‘gave each other
assurances’.

234 Homeric characters often invoke Zeus when they try to account for
events they do not understand: Jörgensen 1904; Graziosi and Haubold 2005:
82–3; cf. 159n. and 198–9n. on the inscrutability of Zeus in Glaukos’
account. Here it seems that the poet himself is puzzled by the implications
of the exchange. ἔνθ᾽ marks an important moment in the story; cf. 73n. αὖτε
introduces a shift of focus; cf. 73n. Κρονίδης: in early Greek epic the epithet
is used exclusively of Zeus, because he is Kronos’ successor as well as one
of his sons. ϕρένας ἐξέλετο Ζεύς = 19.137; Hes. Sc. 89; Hes. fr. 69 MW; cf.,
e.g., 9.377. Expressions of this kind refer to obvious and serious
misjudgements, which have disastrous consequences for those who make
them and are therefore barely comprehensible; cf. 18.310–13, 19.134–8. It
is ironic, for a descendant of Sisyphos, to be duped so easily; cf. Mazon
1948: 164–5.

235 Τυδείδην: the patronymic defines Diomedes’ identity, whether or not

he remembers his father (222–3n.) or wishes to follow his example, see
Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 58. On traditional epithets, see further
Introduction 2.2. τεύχε᾽ ἄμειβε ∼ 14.381 (the Achaeans exchange armour
among themselves); cf. 17.192 (Hector swaps his armour with that of
Patroclus – after he has killed and stripped him). The phrase evokes the
common line-ending τεύχε᾽ ἐσύλα, ‘he stripped him of his armour’, and
helps to recast the exchange of arms as a notional defeat. Ancient readers
found the exchange unlikely and problematic: ΣbT ad 6.235a suggest that
the two warriors did not strip but only exchanged a belt and a sword, like
Hector and Ajax at 7.303–5. The term τεύχεα, however, more naturally
refers to the whole armour (specifically defensive armour), rather than to
individual items: Trümpy 1950: 75–9.

236 The line brings the encounter to a memorable end. Glaukos aspired ‘to
be the best always’ (208n.); but he will be remembered, above all, for the
humiliating conclusion to this episode. χρύσεα χαλκείων: Glaukos’ golden
armour is introduced abruptly and thus seems all the more incongruous; cf.
Glaukos’ own sudden and incongruous prominence at the beginning of the
episode: 119n., 124–5n. Weapons are usually made of bronze, although
gold does feature, especially in armour made by Hephaistos; for Achilles’
armour, cf. 18.475, 517 etc., 20.265–72 and Edwards 1991: 202–3; for
Heracles’ armour in Hesiod's Aspis, cf., e.g., Hes. Sc. 124–5, 142. The
scholia AT ad 8.195 infer that Hephaistos made Glaukos’ armour too; cf.
ΣT ad 6.234b1. On gold as the metal of gods see Avery 1994: 500–1; and
Piccaluga 1980: 243–4, who quotes 10.440–1; on Diomedes’ concern that
Glaukos may in fact be a god, cf. 123–43n. Displaying gold on the
battlefield can be a sign of prestige (8.192–3, on the shield of Nestor), but
also of foolishness: see 2.871–5 on Nastes (or, according to the scholia, his
brother Antimachus), who enters battle decked in gold ‘like a maiden’ and
comes to a bad end. The scholia also remark, perceptively, that Glaukos
offers a gift of gold, just like his grandfather Bellerophontes: ΣbT ad
6.234a. ἑκατόμβοι᾽ ἐννεαβοίων ‘worth one hundred oxen’ and ‘worth nine
oxen’ respectively. Oxen are a standard currency in Homeric epic; cf.
Macrakis 1984 and Mondio 1996. The number one hundred expresses
completion and magnitude, cf. 115n.; the number nine tends to express
incompleteness and a need for resolution, cf. 174n.

237–41: Hector Enters the City

As soon as Hector reaches the Scaean Gates, he is surrounded by women

asking after their loved ones – a highly dramatic scene which classical
audiences may have perceived as especially close to tragedy; cf., for
example, Eteocles’ exchange with the chorus of women in the besieged city
of Thebes at Aesch. Sept. 78–286, with Ieranò 2002: 79. Helenos had
already warned Hector about the dangers of ‘falling into the hands of the
women’ (81–2n.); now he must not be weakened or delayed. He tells each
of the women to pray to the gods – this is exactly the message he said he
would deliver to them when describing his mission to the other men on the
battlefield: 114n. And it is also the only message relevant to all women –
regardless of their personal circumstances which, the poet reveals, are very
different: Introduction 3.2. This opening scene sets up Hector's future
meetings with his own loved ones. The order in which the different
relationships are introduced here (παῖδας…κασιγνήτους…ἔτας…πόσιας)
loosely suggests the order of Hector's own encounters: Hecuba with
Laodike, then Helen and finally Andromache.

237 ∼ 9.354, 11.170. Σκαιὰς…πύλας: an important landmark in the Iliad,

indicating the line between city and battlefield, cf. 307n., 373n.;
Introduction 4.4; Elliger 1975: 60; and Scully 1990: 42–4. Hector meets the
women as he enters the Scaean Gates and later meets Andromache on his
way back to the battlefield: 392–3n. ϕηγόν: one of two significant trees
outside Troy. The oak suggests safety and respite for the Trojans (Thornton
1984: 150–2), the fig tree marks the most vulnerable part of the walls
(433n., 434n.), cf. 11.166–71: the Trojans flee past the fig tree and make a
stand by the Scaean Gates and the oak. Scully 1990: 10–14 discusses the
oak and other landmarks on the Trojan plain. The alternative line-ending
πύργον ἵκανεν, though well attested since antiquity, has no parallel in
Homer. The gates and the oak tree together mark the boundary between the
city and the plain, and they symbolise safety; πύργον is best explained as an
attempt, on the part of ancient readers, to answer the kind of objection
raised also by M. L. West 2001a: 196 (who points out that the tree is outside
the walls while the women stay inside).

238 The women swirl around Hector; cf. Hecuba and Andromache at 251n.
and 394n., and contrast Helen at 354n. ἄρα: the evidentiary particle
suddenly brings the women into focus, as they swarm around Hector; cf. 2n.
Τρώων…θύγατρες: the phrase describes the Trojan women in general (note
the inclusive particle ἠδέ: 90n.), though the emphasis is on women in their
prime, see Introduction 3.3. For ἄλοχοι: 337n. The women are described in
relation to their male relatives. In the next line the focus shifts and we look
at the men through the eyes of their women.

239 εἰρόμεναι: from εἴρομαι, ‘ask about’, often – as here – with an

accusative. ἔτας τε: the exact meaning of ἔτης is uncertain and may have
been unclear to the poet: Gates 1971: 31. All passages where it occurs
suggest a close relationship; almost all instances are accompanied by more
familiar terms for ‘friends’ or ‘relations’: cf., e.g., 7.295 (together with
ἑταῖροι, of the people closest to Ajax), 9.464–5 (together with ἀνεψιοί, of
the people closest to Phoenix), Od. 15.273 (with κασίγνητοι, of the people
who are closest to a murdered man and might avenge him). Here it must
describe men who are particularly close and dear to the women, e.g. other
relatives. For the meaning of the word in Hecuba's speech, cf. 262n.

240 καὶ πόσιας: particular emphasis is placed on this word, in enjambment.

ἔπειτα: an unusual deployment of the word, hinting perhaps that Hector lets
some of the excitement die down before replying. θεοῖς εὔχεσθαι: Hector
entered the city in order to tell the women to pray; now he repeats the
message to each of them, without lingering on the fate of individuals, cf.
115n. and 304n. ἀνώγει: cf. 170n. (ἠνώγει).
241 A moving line: all women are told to pray, though some are already
bereaved while others are not. As often, the poet knows more than the
characters within the story: Introduction 1 and 3.1. Later Andromache finds
herself in the same situation as that of the bereaved women mentioned here:
at 22.437–46 we see her think and behave like a wife, while we know that
she has already become a widow. For the balance struck, within a line,
between communal tragedy and individual grief, cf. 21.524. πάσας ἑξείης:
construe with ἀνώγει, not εὔχεσθαι. Hector tells the women to pray,
addressing them one by one as each asks about her relatives. The scholia
report an ancient variant πᾶσι μάλ᾽ ἑξείης, ‘to all of them (i.e. all the gods),
one by one’; cf. Od. 11.134 ∼ Od. 23.281. The variant misses the point:
Hector has one answer for each individual concern. πολλῆισι δὲ κήδε᾽
ἐϕῆπτο ∼ 2.15 = 32 = 69. Translate ‘but many had grief (already) tied to
them’ (pluperfect). The phrase evokes a formulaic expression which ties
men to death: ὀλέθρου πείρατ᾽ ἐϕῆπται/-ο at 7.402, 12.79, Od. 22.33 and 41.
The equivalent to death, for women, is grief; cf. 22.477–84, where
Andromache claims that she and Hector were born to the same fate, since
his death corresponds to her grief. For a similar example of evocative if
slightly obscure language, cf. 143n.

242–85: The Encounter between Hector and Hecuba

242–52 This section is elaborately structured: lines 251–2 contain the main
clause, which follows after the temporal subclause in line 242–3; in
between, the narrator places an arresting description of Priam's palace,
which is itself carefully designed: lines 244–6 correspond to 248–50. The
description is as bulky as the palace itself: we are confronted with a massive
construction in polished stone, quite unlike any other building in early
hexameter epic; modern commentators often comment on its ‘air of
unreality’, Kirk 1990: 193; see also Alden 1990. Dalby 1995 argues that
palaces in Homer are grandiose versions of ordinary homes, rather than
realistic descriptions of eighth-century palaces; for other Homeric palaces
see Rougier-Blanc 2002 and 2005; for possible real-life models for the
palace of Priam, see Hertel 2003: 157–8. Drerup 1969, Fagerström 1988
and Weiler 2001 discuss the archaeology of Iron Age palaces. Priam's
palace does not stand out for its riches (as do those of Menelaos and
Alcinous: Od. 4.71–5, 7.86–132), nor does it exhibit supernatural features
(such as Alcinous’ immortal dogs, made of silver and gold: Od. 7.91–4).
Rather, the poet emphasises its solidity and its capacity to accommodate an
exceptionally large family within an ordered structure: see Taplin 1992: 117
(‘the breeding ground of a great dynasty’). The fact that sons-in-law live
with Priam adds to his power but also suggests that Priam needs help: at
least one of them has moved to Troy specifically in order to lend support
during the war; cf. 248–50n. It is understandable that the women who live
in this enormous place find it hard to distinguish between the city and the
family; in fact, Hector himself is accused of doing the same: 5.473–4. In
many ways, the palace symbolises the fortified citadel itself; cf. Taplin
1992: 117 with n. 14; Introduction 3.3.

242 ∼ Od. 6.85. ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή: 172n.

243 ξεστῆις αἰθούσηισι τετυγμένον: cf. 20.11. An αἴθουσα is a roofed space

outside the main hall of the house, which typically protrudes into the
courtyard (αὐλή) and may be situated in an extension (πρόδομος). The
αἴθουσα is often used for putting up guests (24.644, Od. 3.397–9, 4.296–7,
7.335–6, 344–5, with Rougier-Blanc 1996 and 2005: 97–111). Apart from
Priam's palace, only the palaces of Alcinous and Zeus are said to have more
than one αἴθουσα: in those cases, as here, the emphasis is on the large
number of people, or gods, hosted in the palace: 20.10–12, Od. 8.56–8.
Hector approaches the outer buildings first, though by the end of the line we
are introduced to the palace proper: ἐν αὐτῶι. ξεστῆις: cf. 244n. τετυγμένον:
perfect passive participle of τεύχω, ‘make’. αὐτάρ introduces the digression
on Priam's palace; cf. 83n. ἐν αὐτῶι: Priam's sons live inside the palace
proper, unlike his daughters: 247n.

244 πεντήκοντ᾽: for Priam's fifty sons see 24.493–7; and Wöhrle 1999: 73–
5, who points out that the poet mentions only twenty-two. Fifty is a
significant number in early epic, cf. LfgrE s.v. πεντήκοντα. It suggests a
large and useful group: fifty men make up a ship crew (2.719, 16.170) or a
platoon (4.393, 8.563). Important households have fifty maidservants: Od.
7.103 and 22.421–2. Aigyptos has fifty sons (Hes. fr. 127 MW), and Nereus
has fifty daughters (Theog. 263–4): having many children is generally
presented as a good thing in early Greek epic, but they can also spell
disaster – as Achilles tells Priam at 24.602–9; cf. 421n. θάλαμοι: the
θάλαμος is any private room (opp. μέγαρον) but especially the bedroom; cf.
Rougier-Blanc 2005: 189–213, esp. 212–13; for θάλαμος as ‘store room’ cf.
288n. It is often explicitly associated with marriage: cf. 3.174, 11.227,
17.36, Od. 4.263. These θάλαμοι will soon be invaded: 22.63. ξεστοῖο
λίθοιο: seats of honour are typically made of polished stone (cf. 18.504, Od.
3.406–12, 8.6), and the material is also used for the house of the immortal
Circe: Od. 10.210–11. The stone suggests beauty, stability and continuity
through time. Drerup 1969: 132 suggests that the present description
reflects actual building techniques in the geometric period.

245–6 This image of peaceful and proper family life is in stark contrast to
the immediate situation described in book 6. πλησίοι ἀλλήλων: the plan of
the palace reflects the structure of Priam's family; his daughters’ rooms are
located elsewhere: 247n., 248–50n. The variant πλησίον ἀλλήλων (adverb)
is grammatically possible (cf. 3.115, Od. 14.14) but is less well attested, and
early epic prefers forms of the adjective πλησίος to the adverb πλησίον
where both are metrically possible; cf., e.g., 4.21, 6.249, 8.458 δεδμημένοι:
perfect participle of δέμω, ‘build’; cf. δόμος, ‘building’. παρὰ μνηστῆις
ἀλόχοισι ‘by their wedded wives’ (cf. μνάομαι). The standard expression is
(παρ᾽) αἰδοίηις ἀλόχοισιν, see 250. Variant readings are attested both here
and at 250, for a good discussion: Di Benedetto 1998: 88 with n. 4. For
ἀλόχοισι see 337n.

247 κουράων δ᾽ ‘the daughters’ (sc. of Priam). On its own, κούρη usually
describes a girl, though it can also refer to a married woman when she is
seen primarily as her father's daughter; cf. the frequent references to
Penelope as κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο. Here the daughters of Priam live in the outer
buildings of their father's palace, even though they are married. On the
possible reasons for this arrangement, cf. 248–50n. ἑτέρωθεν ἐναντίοι
ἔνδοθεν αὐλῆς ‘elsewhere, opposite, inside the courtyard’. The exact
location and arrangement of the daughters’ rooms has puzzled modern
readers (cf. Kirk 1990: 193), but the poet stresses that Priam's daughters and
their husbands live in some outer buildings, rather than inside the palace
proper: the spatial arrangement reflects the family structure, which matters
in the context of book 6. Elsewhere Priam's daughters and his daughters-in-
law are simply said to be in the palace: 24.166. αὐλῆς: the courtyard around
a palace, enclosed by a wall or fence and marking the outer limit of the
property, cf. 316n. It is sometimes used for animal husbandry (e.g. 4.433,
24.161–5, 640) but does not normally feature θάλαμοι. Telemachus’
bedroom is located in the courtyard at Od. 1.425–6: this is a sign of his
uncertain status in the household while Odysseus is away. The courtyard
may contain extensions of other kinds, especially the αἴθουσα; cf. 243n.
Since αἴθουσαι are primarily intended for guests, Priam's married daughters
and their husbands are perhaps thought to be similar in status to guests; cf.
13.170–6: Medesikaste, a daughter of Priam, married Imbrios and moved to
his place in Pedaios; however, Imbrios has now returned to Troy to fight in
the war, and he lives in the palace. Relatives by marriage are expected to
help their in-laws (cf. 167–70n., 5.473–4, 13.463–6), though they remain
subordinated, in the family hierarchy, to blood relations.

248–50 ∼ 244–6. Homeric husbands may, in some circumstances, reside

with the family of their wives, as is the case here; cf. Snodgrass 1974: 120;
I. Morris 1986: 107; and most recently Finkelberg 2005: 65–89, who argues
that the arrangement reflects actual Bronze Age practice. The normal
pattern in epic is for the woman to move to her husband's ancestral home
upon marriage (LfgrE s.v. γαμέω B); this was also standard practice among
early Greek audiences of the Iliad, and it is described as the norm in
Hesiod's post-heroic world: Op. 695. In heroic epic, exceptions to the rule
are possible if the husband cannot offer a suitable home of his own, or if he
is recruited into his wife's family on the basis of her father's superior power
and wealth: cf. 193n., 14.115–25, and Od. 6.244–5 (Nausicaa hopes
Odysseus may marry her and stay in Scherie); and for the more complicated
case of Iphidamas at Il. 11.221–45 see Mirto 1997: 1096–7. As a group,
sons-in-law who reside in their wives’ home enhance the power of their
father-in-law. Thus, for example, Nestor hosts his sons and his sons-in-law:
this is a sign of his status, cf. Od. 3.386–7. Priam's power is also enhanced
by the presence of his sons-in-law, though in this case their presence also
indicates an emergency: 247n. δώδεκ᾽: cf. 93–4n., and 244n. (on the twelve
children of Niobe). This is an impressive number of daughters, though
clearly inferior to that of the sons. τέγεοι ‘roofed over’, only here. The
adjective strengthens the impression that the chambers of the daughters and
their husbands are located outside the main building; cf. 247n. γαμβροί: cf.
177n. παρ᾽ αἰδοίηις ἀλόχοισιν: cf. 245–6n.

251 Like the Trojan women at the Scaean Gates (238n.), and Andromache
later in the book (394n.), Hecuba approaches Hector as soon as she sees
him. She walks (ἤλυθε) whereas the younger women run, but her eagerness
is obvious. Helen, by contrast, invites Hector to walk towards her, and sit
down – one of her many seductive ploys: 354n. On Hecuba's movements,
see further 252n. ἔνθα: Hector meets his mother at the palace, Helen in her
bedroom, and Andromache at the Scaean Gates: those locations are crucial
for the encounters that follow, cf. 318n. with 321–2 and 392–3n., 394n. On
the accentuation of ἔνθά οἱ, see Probert 2003: 148–50; for this passage, it is
attested in all the major manuscripts. ἠπιόδωρος: only here in epic (but cf.
Stes. 223.2 Davies), perhaps ‘she who gives soothing presents’. The word
ἤπιος often characterises fathers who cherish their children, cf. 8.40 =
22.184, 24.770, etc. The scholia compare 22.83, where Hecuba reminds
Hector of the breast she offered him as a child, memorably describing it as
λαθικηδής ‘making (babies) forget their sorrow’. The suggestion is
perceptive, for Hecuba will soon offer Hector another drink that instils
forgetfulness: 265n. (ἀλκῆς τε λάθωμαι). In his reply, Hector reverts to more
conventional language, calling his mother πότνια (the standard epithet of
μήτηρ) and refusing her offer of wine. μήτηρ: Hecuba is introduced in
relation to Hector: cf. 87n. and contrast 293n.

252 ∼ 3.124. Ancient and modern readers have wondered about Hecuba's
movements: it seems that she is arriving at the palace from elsewhere,
together with Laodike, and that she encounters Hector in front of the door:
M. L. West 2001a: 196–7. Others have supposed that she comes from
within the palace, but this reading makes Λαοδίκην ἐσάγουσα difficult to
understand. Aristarchus took it to mean: ‘going towards/entering the house
of Laodike’; cf. ΣAbT ad 6.252ab. However, ἄγειν is not used in this way
in Homer, and Aristarchus’ reading is not adopted in the medieval
manuscripts; cf. LfgrE s.v. ἄγω B VII d. The arrival of Hecuba and Laodike
from elsewhere reinforces the impression that Hector has entered a sphere
where women meet and move according to their own routines and patterns;
cf. Introduction 3.2. The presence of Laodike is important: lone women are
rare in epic, both within the home and outside it. Later in the book
Andromache is accompanied by a wet nurse (389n. and 399n.), and even in
book 22, when she dashes out fearing that Hector might be dead, she asks
two maids to follow her: 22.450. Λαοδίκην: daughter of Priam and wife of
Helikaon, son of Antenor. She was first mentioned at 3.121–4, when Iris
took on her semblance and told Helen to go out and watch the battle from
the city walls. As the most beautiful daughter of Priam, and as someone
who was last seen together with Helen, she reminds the audience that Helen
is not far off – and indeed Hector goes on to meet Helen herself in the next
scene: 312–69. Later authors report that Laodike was not taken captive after
the fall of Troy: see, e.g., Lycophron, Alexandra 316–22 with Hurst and
Kolde 2008: 146; Pausanias 10.26.7–9; Apollodorus, Epitome 5.25; cf.
LIMC s.v. Laodike II. It is possible that her presence in this passage already
alludes to ancient traditions about the sack of Troy. On Laodike's mother-in-
law, Theano, cf. 298n.

253–62 Hecuba's speech is loosely structured in ring composition around

her central request: ἀλλὰ μέν᾽, 258n.; cf. 262n. On its contents, and the
characterisation of Hecuba in this scene, see further Introduction 4.2.

253 A common speech-introductory line both in the Iliad and the Odyssey;
cf. 406n. It suggests a degree of intimacy between speaker and addressee
but also signals that the speaker wants to establish even greater closeness:
cf. 18.384 and 423. Physical contact is not just a spontaneous gesture: it
typically introduces an attempt at winning over the addressee, sometimes
against considerable odds; cf., e.g., 14.232–62, Od. 2.302–22. ἔν τ᾽…οἱ ϕῦ
χειρί ‘she took his hand’, not ‘she clung to him with her hand’. χειρί is best
taken with ἐν, rather than explained as an instrumental dative. At Od. 2.302
(cf. 321) the phrase clearly describes the holding of hands, see also Il. 7.108
and Od. 3.374. Further parallels for the use of ἐν tell against taking χειρί as
an instrumental dative: Od. 1.381 = 18.410 = 20.268 (ὀδὰξ ἐν χείλεσι
ϕύντες) and Od. 10.397 (ἔϕυν δ᾽ ἐν χερσίν). See also 1.513 ἐμπεϕυυῖα:
Thetis clasps Zeus's knees; she certainly does not clasp him with her knees.
ϕῦ: root aorist without thematic vowel. For the long υ, see Chantraine
1948–53: vol. I, 378. ἔπος: no hiatus: ϝέπος, cf. Latin vox. ἐκ τ᾽ ὀνόμαζε ‘she
addressed him’, a personal appeal, whether or not it includes the proper
name (ὄνομα) of the addressee.

254 τέκνον ‘son’ – the word is used of grown-up sons or daughters in the
Iliad; cf., e.g., Thetis to Achilles at 1.362 and 414, with Minchin 2007:
180–2. The next time Hecuba addresses Hector as τέκνον, he is about to die:
22.82 and 84; at 22.431 he is already dead. Priam calls Hector ϕίλον τέκος
at 22.38; cf. 22.56. τίπτε < τί ποτε, ‘why ever?᾽, expresses strong surprise.
πόλεμον θρασύν: cf. 10.28. The epithet θρασύς, ‘fierce’, is often used of
warriors, and especially of Hector (seven times in the Iliad). The battlefield
is where he belongs, and Hecuba cannot work out why he has left.
εἰλήλουθας: cf. 128–9n.

255 ἦ μάλα δή ‘no doubt’, cf. 518n. The phrase betrays great animation in
the speaker; cf. Griffin 1986: 45–6. It tends to introduce suppositions which
are in some way problematic, either (a) because they are unfounded (Od.
4.770–2, 23.149–52); or (b) because they are likely to upset the addressee
(Il. 15.90–1); or (c) because they are upsetting for the speaker (18.12–13).
(a) and (b) are combined at 5.422, (a) and (c) at 21.55–6, (b) and (c) at
15.14–15. Hecuba starts off with a combination of (b) and (c) but then drifts
off into (a): 256n. ἦ: 55n. δή: 52–3n. τείρουσι: cf. 85n. Hecuba is not wide
of the mark. δυσώνυμοι…Ἀχαιῶν ‘the accursed sons of the Achaeans’, in
contrast with her own dear son: even to mention the Achaeans is ill-omened
(δυσ- + ὄνομα; cf. ΣAbT ad 6.255). δυσώνυμος is a strong word, good for
cursing: the poet uses it at 12.116 (of Moira), but its impact emerges
especially in character speech: see Od. 19.571–2; Hom. Hymn 3.368; cf.
Δύσπαρι (Il. 3.39 = 13.769) and Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν (Od. 19.260).
Hecuba often expresses herself vigorously: cf. 22.80 and 83, 24.201–2, 207,
212–13; here she twists a standard expression according to her point of
view: Macleod 1982: 40. υἷες Ἀχαιῶν is common at verse end, cf. κοῦροι
Ἀχαιῶν (used after vowel); it recalls well-known Near Eastern phrases: ‘the
sons of Israel’, ‘the sons of Assyria’ etc.; cf. Roussel 1960: 162; M. L. West
1997a: 226. Early audiences may have heard in it a reference to the
generation of the ἐπίγονοι (cf. Epigoni, fr. 1 West and Eur. Supp. 1213–15:
παῖδες Ἀργείων); the older Achaeans who fought in the Theban War are
never called υἷες Ἀχαιῶν/κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν in extant epic. Classical audiences
may have experienced it as patriotic: Pindar is among the first poets to
replace υἷες Ἀχαιῶν with παῖδες Ἑλλήνων in the context of the Trojan War:
Isthm. 3/4.54b; for the patriotic ring of that phrase, see Aesch. Pers. 402; cf.
also Eur. Hec. 928–32.

256 ἄστυ: cf. 95n. θυμὸς ἀνῆκεν: Hecuba is wrong about that: Hector's
presence in Troy is part of a carefully thought-out strategy, not an impulsive
decision prompted by his θυμός; cf. 72–118n. and Introduction 4.2. Later
Hector claims that his θυμός actually impels him to fight in the first line of
battle, not to stay in the city: 361n. and 444n. On θυμός, cf. 51n.

257 Hecuba continues to mix wild guesses with acute intuition. Hector has
indeed come to appease the gods, though his mission is not to pray to Zeus
– but rather to tell the women to appease Athena. Eventually, though, he
will pray to Zeus: 475–81n.; Introduction 4.2. ἐξ ἄκρης πόλιος: cf. 88n. For
offerings to Zeus made at the highest point in the city, cf. 22.170–2. χεῖρας
ἀνασχεῖν: formulaic in epic, and a typical gesture of ancient prayer; cf.
301n., Lateiner 1997: 244 and 250; Pulleyn 1997: 188–9.

258–60 Hecuba moves seamlessly from the idea of a libation to the

suggestion that Hector himself drink some wine: note the striking
enjambment at 260n. and see Casabona 1966: 233. Above all, she wants to
look after Hector (cf. 258: ἀλλὰ μέν᾽). Hector seems to sense this: he replies
first to her suggestion that he drink some wine and then explains why a
libation would also be inappropriate: 264–8n. For the libation, cf. 24.283–9
and 300–1.

258 ἀλλὰ μέν᾽: in a prominent position at the beginning of the line. This is
Hecuba's central request. Like all the other women Hector meets in Troy,
Hecuba tries to delay him; cf. 354–6n. (Helen) and 431n. (Andromache).
ὄϕρα κε…ἐνείκω ‘so that in the meantime I bring you’; the basic sense is
temporal, but ὄϕρα κε also conveys a purpose; cf. 113 (ὄϕρ᾽ ἄν), and
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 262–3. μελιηδέα οἶνον: a frequent noun–epithet
phrase: wine, in Greek epic, is the ‘honey-sweet’ drink par excellence and
is therefore tempting. The epithet usually characterises wine intended for
consumption rather than libation, cf. 4.346, Od. 18.151, 426. Hecuba is
already thinking of offering Hector the wine to drink: 260n. No hiatus
before (ϝ)οἶνον; cf. Latin vinum. ἐνείκω: cf. ἤνεικα, Attic ἤνεγκον, ‘I carried’.

259 After the temporal/final ὄϕρα κε, Hecuba becomes more explicit about
her intent: ὡς introduces a straightforward purpose clause. Διὶ πατρὶ καὶ
ἄλλοις ἀθανάτοισι: this is a vague guess on the part of Hecuba, cf. 475n.

260 πρῶτον, ἔπειτα δέ: a striking case of ‘corrective’ enjambment, cf.

Introduction 2.1. Hecuba betrays her motherly instincts: she wants to
nourish Hector, as ΣbT ad 6.260c point out. καὐτός: the letters ΚΑΥΤΟΣ are
best interpreted as καὶ αὐτός, with crasis. Some ancient readers and many
medieval manuscripts prefer κ᾽ αὐτός = κε(ν) αὐτός: cf. ΣAT ad 6.260ab.
This is grammatically possible (for κε(ν) with the future tense see 353n. καί
μιν) but is unlikely: Hecuba's point is precisely that Hector too (καὶ αὐτός)
should have his share of the wine. Aristarchus seems to have treated the
passage as a test case for his view that ‘redundant κε is typical of Homer’
(ΣA ad 6.260b), which would explain the popularity of the variant reading;
cf. 13.734 with Janko 1994: 139; Matthaios 1999: 367 and 578–9. ὀνήσεαι
‘you will feel better’; 2nd pers. sing. fut. middle of ὀνίνημι. The suddenness
of Hecuba’s afterthought suggests a fresh main clause; for a different
interpretation (ὀνήσεαι = subjunctive dependent on ὡς), see Stoevesandt
2008: 93. αἴ κε πίηισθα ‘if you drink’. The phrase is modelled on the
common verse ending αἴ κε πίθησθα: ‘if you listen to me’. In this case, to
listen is to drink; cf. Kirk 1990: 195.

261 For wine as a source of strength in war cf. 9.705–6, and especially
19.160–1 and 167–70, with Lardinois 1997: 219. This is a persuasive final
flourish on the part of Hecuba: the proverbial tone suits the elderly mother
who tries to persuade her son; for Homer's use of proverbial expressions
and their role in characterisation, see Lardinois 2000. Wine is a common
and accepted way of restoring a man's strength but it is also a notorious test
of his restraint and social competence; cf., e.g., Od. 9.345–61, 14.463–6,
21.295–8, with Arnould 2002. Ancient commentators discuss at length
whether Hector was right to refuse Hecuba's offer of wine. Among other
things, they consider the fact that wine needs to be consumed along with
food, and at the right time, i.e. in the evening, not in the middle of a fighting
day; ΣbT ad 6.260cd. κεκμηῶτι: part. perf. act. of κάμνω; for this form as a
‘compromise’ between Ionic -ότι and Aeolic -οντι, see Chantraine 1948–53:
vol. I, 431; Wachter 2000: 101. μένος: cf. 26–7n. μέγα: best taken with ἀέξει
(‘greatly increases’) rather than construed as a proleptic adjective (‘so as to
be great’). οἶνος: for the apparent hiatus see 258n.

262 The line recapitulates 255–6 in ring composition. However, this time
Hecuba places greater emphasis on Hector's exhaustion. ὡς ‘just as’; one
might perhaps have expected ὥς, ‘thus, that way’, but comparative clauses
are flexible in early Greek epic; cf. 109n. τύνη ∼ σύ (emphatic). κέκμηκας
picks up κεκμηῶτι in the line above. ἀμύνων σοῖσιν ἔτηισι ‘defending your
dear ones’. For ἔτηισι cf. 239n. Hecuba presents the Trojan War as a family
matter. From Hector's perspective, however, his duties to the family and his
role as a warrior are not easy to reconcile, see Introduction 4.

263–85 Hector makes three points in reply: he declines Hecuba's offer

(264–8n.), repeats Helenos’ instructions (269–78n.) and declares he will go
to see Paris (280–5n.). Hector is respectful and precise – until he entirely
loses his temper at the mention of Paris: wine is not the point – he implies –
only the death of Paris would enable him to forget his sorrows; cf. λάθωμαι,
265n. and ἐκλελαθέσθαι, 285n; with Mackie 1996: 103–5. On Hector's
sudden outburst, see further Introduction 4.2.

263 = 359n. A common line introducing replies, cf. Edwards 1970: 4–5.
Other lines of broadly equivalent meaning were available to the poet: see
440n. and 520n., with Friedrich 2007: 68–77. Three papyri (among which
West's 270, cf. 45n., 90n.) read: τὴν δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέϕη κoρυθαιόλος
Ἕκτωρ; cf. 520n. The printed text creates a sharper contrast between
Hecuba's address to her ‘son’ (τέκνον: 254n.) and the ‘great’ (μέγας) Hector
who answers her.

264–8 Hector first explains why he should not drink any wine, thus
addressing Hecuba's need to look after him (264–5). He then explains why
it would be inappropriate for him to make a libation and pray to Zeus (266–
8). His considerations naturally lead on to the request that she organise the
prayers and offering for Athena: 269–78n. Implicit in Hector's words is a
rationale for his mission: while the women rely on the men to keep them
safe, the men rely on women to uphold proper ritual activity, especially in
this time of crisis. Their sphere is one of relative purity, away from the
blood, violence and death of the battlefield. For Hector's martial appearance
and its inappropriateness in the domestic setting of Iliad 6, cf. 318–20n. and
467–70n.

264 ἄειρε ‘lift up’ and hence ‘offer’. The expression is slightly elliptic: it
takes up ἐνείκω in line 258; cf. 293 (ἀειραμένη…ϕέρε), and Od. 1.141 = 4.57
(παρέθηκεν ἀείρας). μελίϕρονα: a common epithet of wine, food and sleep,
and one of Hector's favourite words: it highlights, by contrast, his sense of
duty, see Mackie 1996: 104. Unlike μελιηδέα (above), μελίϕρονα evokes the
effect of wine on the mind, cf. ΣbT ad 6.264b τὸν ἀναγκάζοντα ἡδέα
διανοεῖσθαι. Hector goes on to describe the negative effects wine would
have on his mental state; on the effects of wine, see Sullivan 1997. πότνια
μῆτερ: a respectful address (Vermeule 1974: 78–9). πότνια is used either of
mothers (cf. 413n., 429, 471n.) or of goddesses (cf. 305n.).

265 According to Hector, Hecuba's wine would make him forget his
strength (μένος, ἀλκή) and hence compromise his virility. On wine and
forgetfulness: Arnould 2002: 10. μή μ᾽ ἀπογυιώσηις μένεος ‘lest you strip me
of my strength’; an expression of intense physicality, cf. γυῖα ‘limbs’ and
γυιόω = ‘paralyse’ at 8.402, 416 and Hes. Theog. 858. It evidently
impressed ancient readers; cf. Pl. Crat. 415a. Forms of the verb
(ἀπο)γυμνόω are likewise used, before the main caesura, to suggest the idea
of emasculation: cf. Od. 10.301 (∼ 341) μή σ᾽ ἀπογυμνωθέντα κακὸν καὶ
ἀνήνορα θήηι, where the verb refers to actual, as well as metaphorical,
nakedness. μένεος: contrast μένος at 261. Hector contradicts Hecuba's
proverb. ἀλκῆς τε λάθωμαι: contrast 112n. (μνήσασθε δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς).
Hector describes a typical effect of magic potions (ϕάρμακα): cf. Od.
4.219–27 and 10.233–6.

266 Cf. Hes. Op. 724–5. χερσὶ δ᾽ ἀνίπτοισιν ‘with unwashed hands’; cf.
νίζω/νίπτω, ‘wash’. Priam washes his hands before taking, from Hecuba,
some wine and making a libation: 24.299–306. More generally, it is
important to have clean hands when performing rituals: cf., e.g., 1.447–9,
9.171–8, 16.230–2, with Lateiner 1997: 252. ἀνίπτοισιν < ἄνιπτος, -ον, two-
ending adjective. This is the reading of the MSS and one papyrus. West
adopts Zenodotus’ reading ἀνίπτηισιν, but the parallel in Hes. Op. 725
confirms the much better attested form ἀνίπτοισιν. In Attic, compound
adjectives such as ἄνιπτος do not form a feminine in -η. They sometimes do
in Homer, and Zenodotus appears to have regarded ἀνίπτηισιν as more
properly Homeric; for a defense of his reading see van der Valk 1963–4:
vol. II, 131–2. For Zenodotus on adjectives, see also 285n. (ἀτέρπου).
αἴθοπα οἶνον ‘sparkling wine’ (cf. αἴθομαι, ‘blaze’); the third epithet for
wine in only eight lines. αἶθοψ typically describes wine in the context of
libations; by contrast, μελιηδέα (258n.) and μελίϕρονα (264n.) relate to its
consumption. The three epithets help to articulate the exchange between
Hecuba and Hector.

267–8 Hector counters Hecuba's proverb (261n.) with an equally general

statement about ritual propriety. Both speakers treat Hector's visit as a test
case for proper social and religious behaviour. ἅζομαι expresses religious
restraint, or a sense of awe, before the gods, their servants, or a ritual act;
cf. Cairns 1993: 136. When characters are described as feeling this way,
they are almost always right, though other characters may not think so, cf.
1.20–5. This is one of only two passages in early Greek epic where
someone uses the verb ἅζεσθαι to describe his own feelings; cf. Hom. Hymn
2.76. οὐδέ πηι ἐστί = 24.71 = Hom. Hymn 1 D 9 West = Hom. Hymn 7.58.
The enclitic adverb πηι (‘anywhere’, ‘in any way’) makes Hector's assertion
stronger still; cf. LfgrE s.v. πῆι, πηι, πη B 3 c α. κελαινεϕέϊ ‘of the dark
clouds’. A distinctive epithet of Zeus as lord of the sky. Κρονίωνι: an
alternative form of Κρονίδης, used only of Zeus; cf. 234n.

268 ∼ Od. 22.402, 23.48. As the Odyssean parallels bring out, Hector
describes himself as intruding, violently, into the domestic sphere. For
blood-spattered warriors, cf. 11.169 ∼ 20.503 (note the emphasis on soiled
hands in those passages, and compare Hector's concern with his own hands:
266n.). λύθρωι πεπαλαγμένον: λύθρωι (only in this form) is the defilement
caused by blood. The noun is always used together with the verb παλάσσω,
‘spatter’, which is itself associated with bodily fluids and defilement: cf.
Od. 13.395, Hes. Op. 733. εὐχετάασθαι: from εὐχετάομαι, cf. εὔχεσθαι
(211n., 304n.). This extended form in -τα- allows the poet to use the verb
more flexibly; see Risch 1974: 321. For the diectasis (-άα-), cf. 6n. (ϕόως),
148n. (τηλεθόωσα).

269–78 Cf. the instructions originally imparted by Helenos (86–98n.), and

the ritual performed by the women (297–311n.). Hector has just explained
why he is in no fit state to offer a libation to Zeus: this naturally leads on to
his central request that Hecuba organise the offering for Athena, cf. 264–8n.
Hector reports Helenos’ instructions with few variations. Apart from some
necessary syntactical adjustments, he mentions θύεα (270n.), and, more
significantly perhaps, does not report the injunction to ‘unlock the temple’
(88–9n.); eventually it will be Theano, the priestess of Athena, who opens
the sanctuary (298n.). The slight differences between Helenos’ speech, that
of Hector, and the ritual which the women actually perform are best
explained by taking into consideration the different perspectives and
circumstances of the characters involved: Introduction 3.2; Hector, when
talking to Hecuba, insists specifically on what she herself must do.

269 σύ γε: emphasising the contrast between Hector, who cannot offer
sacrifice, and Hecuba who must; for γε see also 16–17n. The alternative
reading μέν seems less apt here than at 279. νηόν: cf. 88n. ἀγελείης: a
distinctive epithet of Athena in Homeric and Hesiodic epic (Sc. 197). The
precise meaning was already debated in antiquity: some readers derived it
from ἄγειν and λεία/ληΐη/ληΐς, ‘she who brings in the booty’ (cf. ληῖτις at
10.460), while others thought of ἄγειν + λαός, ‘leader of the people’ (cf.
λαοσσόος at e.g. 13.128); see LfgrE s.v. ἀγελείη Σχ. As often with divine
names and epithets, ambiguous or obscure language reflects the mysterious
nature of the gods. On obscure words associated with ritual, cf. 93–4n. (ἤνις
ἠκέστας) and 134n. (θύσθλα), with Introduction 2.4.

270 ἔρχεο: uncontracted imperative (contrast -ου in Attic); cf. Chantraine

1948–53: vol. I, 62 and below, 280n. σὺν θυέεσσιν: probably ‘with burnt
offerings’, as opposed to animal sacrifice or libations (cf. 9.499–500, Hes.
Op. 336–9); see Stoevesandt 2008: 97. This is an addition on the part of
Hector (neither Helenos nor the poet mention θύεα when describing the
ritual for Athena: 86–98n. and 297–311n.) and may emphasise the women's
own contribution: burnt offerings are smaller and easier to handle than the
animal sacrifice they promise for later, cf. 93–4n. ἀολλίσσασα: the rare verb
ἀολλίζω (4 times in early epic) suggests a large, but rather ad hoc, gathering
(cf. 15.588, 19.54; cf. 19.42–5). γεραιάς: cf. 87n.

271–8 See nn. ad vv. 90–7.

279 ∼ 269 (ring composition), with μέν instead of γε. The particle leads on
to Hector's own plans in the next line: ἐγὼ δέ (280n.) ἀλλά marks the
transition to a new section, as often in direct speech.

280–5 Hector now departs from Helenos’ instructions, though it would be

hard to fault him for that: Paris should certainly fight, since everybody else
is doing so on his behalf. For a similar change of direction, cf. 365n., 366n.,
where Hector suddenly announces he will go and see Andromache and
Astyanax. As soon as Hector mentions Paris, he launches into a tirade
against him. This is not the first time that Hector complains about Paris (cf.
3.39–57), but his words here are extreme: even his syntax becomes twisted
and harsh. Ancient and modern readers find fault with Hector's language;
cf. 281–2n. (ὥς κέ οἱ…χάνοι), 285n. (ἀτέρπου), and M. L. West 2001a: 197.
Yet his strained language is best explained as a sign of his mounting
agitation (Kirk 1990: 198). Hector feels as helpless against Paris as against
fate or the gods (281–2n., 282–3n.), and he is clearly ashamed of his brother
(note the wish that the earth may swallow him up). And yet Hector's
attitude is problematic: in early Greek epic, loyalty to ‘brothers of one
womb’ is an absolute duty, cf. 24.46–8. Later, Hector spares Paris’ feelings
(325–31n.), and by the end of the book he is even prepared to make it up to
him, delivering a speech which blatantly contradicts this one: 520–9n. It is
important to bear in mind that he is now talking to Hecuba, the one person
who cannot entirely forsake Paris, since he too is her son. According to one
tradition, Paris was going to be killed in infancy (by exposure on a
mountain), because Hecuba had dreamed that he would cause the fall of
Troy. However, he survived and returned to Troy as a grown man. Hecuba
tried to kill him, but then recognised him as her child. The story featured
prominently in Euripides’ Alexandros: see further Scodel 1980: ch. 1;
Euripides Alexandros, TrGF V.1 (3) testimonia iii–iv. We do not know how
old it was, though Pindar mentions Hecuba's dream and may have gone on
to relate the ensuing events, cf. fr. 52i (A) Maehler, and the Iliad seems to
imply that Paris only returned to live in Troy as an adult: cf. 24.29 with
Reinhardt 1997, pace Wehr 2006: 41–5; and 312–17n. See also Proclus’
summary of the Cypria, Chrestomathy, pp. 68–70 West; and Sophocles
Alexandros TrGF IV F 91a–100a. For those audiences who knew the myth,
Hector's speech will have sounded particularly pointed: Introduction 1.

280 The line announces two simultaneous actions: Hecuba should organise
the ritual, while Hector looks for Paris. As often in Homer, the two actions
are then described in succession (312–13n.); on the treatment of
simultaneous events, see further Introduction 1. ἔρχευ: the main manuscripts
read ἔρχευ, with ‘Ionic’ contraction (cf. Attic ἔρχου) and shortening of the
final syllable before vowel. One of the main manuscripts and a second-
century papyrus have an uncontracted, unelided ἔρχεο. In this reading, -εο
either forms a single syllable which is shortened in hiatus or must be
interpreted as scriptio plena for ἔρχε᾽, see Bolling 1923: 171, 174–5.
Scholars have tended to assume that Ionic contraction was reflected in
writing only from c. 400 BCE onwards (Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 62 and
M. L. West 1998–2000: vol. I, XXII) but recent work suggests that it was
employed much earlier than that; cf. Wachter 2000: 80, n. 25; and Passa
2001. ἐγὼ δέ: cf. 279n., and 86n. The division of labour conveyed by μέν –
δέ helps Hector introduce his new plan without giving the impression that
he is acting on a whim. Πάριν: the name Paris is relatively rare: it is used
eleven times in the Iliad, cf. Δύσπαρις at 3.39 and 13.769. Ἀλέξανδρος is
much more common: forty-five times. Both names are firmly rooted in the
epic tradition, though why they coexist remains unclear. Some other epic
characters have two names: e.g. Skamandros/Xanthos (where one is the
name used by humans, the other that of the gods: 4n.)
Skamandrios/Astyanax (the significance of those two names is explained by
the poet: 402–3n.) and Pyrrhos/Neoptolemos (Cypria, fr. 19 West). The
name Πάρις does not seem to be Greek in origin; Ἀλέξανδρος may be linked
to Alakšandu, prince of Wilusa, mentioned in a Hittite treaty of the early
thirteenth century BCE (Latacz 2004: 103–10). For other Homeric names
which have been more or less securely identified in non-Greek sources of
the Bronze Age, cf. 5n. (Ἀχαιῶν), 67n. (Δαναοί), 60n. (Ἰλίου), 78n. (Λυκίων)
and 207n. (Τροίην). On the names Paris and Alexandros, see further
Wathelet 1988: 817; Gartziou-Tatti 1992: 74, n. 4. μετελεύσομαι: cf. 86n.

281–2 αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέληισ᾽ εἰπόντος ἀκουέμεν: cf. 94n. (αἴ κ᾽ ἐλέησηι), 96n. (αἴ
κεν…ἀπόσχηι), repeated at 275 and 277. Hector's attempt to persuade Paris
echoes the Trojans’ attempt to persuade Athena. Paris seems to be as
inscrutable, distant and destructive as a god, cf. 282–3n. ὥς κέ οἱ…χάνοι:
for the necessary enjambment, see Higbie 1990: 116–17. Shame sometimes
prompts characters to wish they could disappear, cf. 4.182, 8.150, 17.415–
17 (of a group that includes the speaker). This is the only passage where a
character wishes that somebody else may disappear from the face of the
earth. Hector already wished death on Paris at 3.40–2; cf. the curse of
Trojans and Achaeans at 3.320–3. Here, his choice of words reveals how
much he identifies with his brother; cf. 523n., 524–5n. (where he describes
how bad he feels when people criticise Paris). Hector's anguish manifests
itself also in his strained syntax: while Homeric wishes or curses do take the
optative and may be introduced by ὡς, they do not usually take the modal
particle κε(ν). The effect of Hector's κε seems to be that of toning down the
harshness of his curse; see Stoevesandt 2008: 98, with further literature.
Two variant readings attempt to smooth the broken syntax (καί in some
MSS, δέ in one papyrus), but the harsh asyndeton is appropriate to Hector's
mounting agitation; cf. Kirk 1990: 197. κέ οἱ: cf. 16–17n. (no hiatus). Note
that the main manuscripts do not write κεν in order to avoid hiatus, see
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 147; cf. 90n. αὖθι ‘on the spot’.

282–3 μέγα…παισίν: a sharp comment, especially because addressed to

Hecuba. Hector claims that it was Zeus who raised Paris, as a bane to
Priam, his children and Troy at large. He thus distances his brother from the
house of Priam, and suggests that Zeus – not Hecuba – was responsible for
bringing him up; cf. 280–5n., and Introduction 4.2. γάρ: 15n. Ὀλύμπιος:
Zeus as the master of Olympus. The word may be used in the plural of all
the Olympian gods (e.g. 1.399, 20.47), but in the singular it is almost
exclusively applied to Zeus (once in direct speech of a messenger from
Zeus), both as an epithet and on its own; cf. 234n. (Κρονίδης). ἔτρεϕε πῆμα:
the expression describes the breeding of monsters at Hom. Hymn 3.305–6
and Hes. Theog. 328–9. More generally, πῆμα often describes a bane or
curse sent by a god; see Mawet 1979: 111–13. From the perspective of
characters in the narrative, such a bane may take the shape of a particular
person: cf. 3.50 (Hector of Paris), 3.160 (the Trojan elders of Helen), 11.347
(Diomedes of Hector), 22.288 (Hector of Achilles), 22.421–2 (Priam of
Achilles). Hector's choice of words here suggests that he considers his
brother more dangerous and intractable than an ordinary mortal, cf. 281–2n.
(αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέληισ᾽ εἰπόντος ἀκουέμεν). Τρωσὶ…παισίν: as often, Priam's family
and the Trojans at large seem to merge, cf. 242–52n. Πριάμωι μεγαλήτορι:
cf. 24.117, 145. μεγαλήτωρ is a generic epithet (31n.) used of a wide range
of characters, and their θυμός. The meaning was always taken to be ‘noble,
great-hearted’ etc.: cf. ΣD ad 2.547. Hesiod uses it to evoke the grandeur of
heroic epic: Op. 656, see also Pindar Isthm. 5.34–8 (of Aeacus and his
descendants, who twice sacked Troy). τοῖο: cf. 9n.

284 κεῖνόν γε ‘that man’, cf. Helen's equally spiteful τούτωι: 352n.
κατελθόντ᾽ ῎Αϊδος εἴσω: sc. δόμον, i.e. ‘into the house of Hades’ (cf. 3.322
etc.); similar expressions describe those who died in the Trojan War: cf. 1.3,
422. For εἴσω see 10n. Hector now says explicitly that he wants Paris dead
– and he is talking to Paris’ mother, as well as his own: 280–5n. ῎Αϊδος,
῎Αϊδι (< *῎Αϊς), perhaps originally ‘underworld’ (cf. 23.244), but already in
Homer treated as an alternative name for the god Hades, Gk. Ἀΐδης,
Ἀϊδωνεύς (cf. 13.415). As befits this mysterious god and his hidden realm,
the two meanings are not always clearly distinguished. The house of Hades
is one of the four realms of the Homeric universe, together with the sky, the
sea and the earth: cf. 15.190–2 and, for parallels in other Mediterranean and
Near Eastern traditions, M. L. West 1997a: 110, 137–9. It is the abode of
the dead, envisaged as a place beneath the earth (20.61–6; cf. 19n.) and/or
at its limits (Od. 10.487-end, and book 11); cf. Sourvinou-Inwood 1995:
59–61. Ancient audiences associated it with the verb ἰδεῖν, ‘to see’ (ἀ-ίδης =
‘the invisible one’): cf. 5.845 (δῦν᾽ ῎Αϊδος κυνέην, μή μιν ἴδοι…), 24.244–6
(…πρὶν…ὀϕθαλμοῖσιν ἰδεῖν βαίην δόμον ῎Αϊδος εἴσω). Hector plays on this
etymology when he says he wants to see Paris go down to (the house of)
‘the invisible one’ (ἴδοιμι…῎Αϊδος): his wish is studiously paradoxical.
Initial alpha in ῎Αϊδος is lengthened to fit the metre.
285 ‘Then I dare say my heart would forget its joyless misery.’ The Greek
is difficult: on Hector's strained use of language, cf. 280–5n. ϕρέν᾽ recalls
οἶνον…μελίϕρονα at 264n.; Hector does long for joy, but not through wine.
For ϕρήν cf. 61n. ἀτέρπου: the form ἄτερπος, whence ἀτέρπου, is
unexpected for ἀτερπής. Homeric adjectives may, however, follow more
than one declension (e.g. common ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι vs. ἐρίηρος ἑταῖρος at
4.266) and ἀτέρπου, although rejected by Zenodotus and Aristarchus (see
apparatus), is overwhelmingly supported by the ancient and medieval texts.
ὀϊζύος ‘misery’, ‘woe’, a characteristic aspect of the human condition (it
does not usually afflict the gods). War is closely associated with ὀϊζύς; cf.
13.1–3, 14.480–1, Od. 3.103–4; Hes. Sc. 351. ἐκλελαθέσθαι: inf. aor. middle,
with reduplication; Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 396. The expressive
compound (‘forget utterly’) fills the space after bucolic diairesis and brings
Hector's speech to a rhetorically effective conclusion.

286–311: The Ritual Offering for Athena

Hecuba immediately sets about organising the offering; as is normal in

Homer, she does not reply to Hector's request: Edwards 1987: 207. The poet
now offers a glimpse into the world of women (Introduction 3.2), and even
into the most remote corner of the innermost room of the palace (288n.,
295n.; contrast 91n.: Helenos imagined she would find the garment in the
μέγαρον). Then, in a chilling line, we are told that Athena rejects the
women's offering (311n.). Athena's reaction prompts readers to re-evaluate
the ritual just described; for another conclusion that invites a reassessment
of a whole episode, see 232–6n. Two details seem significant: Hecuba's
choice of garment (cf. 288–95n.), and Theano's request that Diomedes be
killed, rather than simply restrained (304–10n. and 306–7n.)

286–7 The narrative moves swiftly, the tone is matter-of-fact (δέ 286, 287).
An evidential particle marks the moment when Hector's orders become
reality (ἄρ 287). Hecuba starts by enlisting the help of her maids. ἣ δὲ…
ἀμϕιπόλοισι: one papyrus preserves the alternative reading [ο]ὐδ᾽ ἀπίθησ᾽
Ἑκάβη, ταχὺ δ᾽ ἀ[μ]ϕιπόλοισι; but ταχύ is not used as an adverb in early
Greek epic, and while ὣς ἔϕατ᾽ οὐδ᾽ ἀπίθησ(ε) etc. is traditional, it is not
normally followed by a δέ-clause in the same line. ποτὶ μέγαρ᾽: a public
room, or the palace as a whole imagined as a public space; opposed to
θάλαμος, cf. 288n. For scansion, and for the differences between Helenos’
instructions and Hecuba's execution, cf. 91n. (ἐνὶ μεγάρωι). κέκλετο: cf. 66n.
ταί: metrically useful alternative to αἵ, ‘those’, ‘they’ (fem.); cf. 9n. (τόν),
and see further Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 275–6. ἀόλλισσαν: cf. 270n.
ἄστυ: 95n. γεραιάς: cf. 87n., 296n.

288–95 The scene follows a standard sequence of motifs: entering the

room (288), description of the storeroom and its contents (288–92),
selection of a specific object (293) and description of its history and special
value (289–95); cf. 24.191–237 and Od. 15.99–108; with 288n. and de Jong
2001: 505–6 and 598. Whereas Hector asked Hecuba to choose the robe
that was ‘most graceful, largest, and dearest to her’ (χαριέστατος…
μέγιστος…ϕίλτατος; 90–1 ∼ 271–2), when she sets about the task, her
personal connection with the robe features before its objective qualities:
first we hear about its history (289–92); then we are told that it is beautiful
and large (κάλλιστος…μέγιστος: 294n). The history of the garment is
unlikely to please Athena: it shows that Hecuba is close to Paris and that
she, her family and the whole city are implicated in his actions: contrast
Hector's attempt to cast Paris as an outsider (282–3n.). On Hecuba's choice,
see further Introduction 3.1.

288 ∼ 24.191 = Od. 15.99. After addressing her maids in the μέγαρα (cf.
286–7n.) Hecuba goes to an inner chamber (θάλαμος), where valuable
possessions are typically stored; see Rougier-Blanc 2005: 210–12. θάλαμοι
can be described as remote and inaccessible (cf. Od. 21.8–9: θάλαμόνδε…
ἔσχατον), or as located on an upper storey (e.g. Od. 22.142–3). The present
passage, as well as 24.191, Od. 2.337, and 15.99, may suggest a basement,
but καταβαίνω in early epic need not involve a strong sense of downward
movement, cf. Od. 11.523 αὐτὰρ ὅτ᾽ εἰς ἵππον κατεβαίνομεν, ὃν κάμ᾽ Ἐπειός;
Ebeling 1880–5: vol. I, 665, col. 2; and LfgrE s.v. βαίνω B II 9 c β. The line
could suggest that Hecuba is entering the innermost part of the palace. The
variants (see app. crit.) attest to a long-standing interest in the details of
Hecuba's θάλαμος and suggest that this passage was compared to 24.191–2
and Od. 15.99–108. κατεβήσετο: for the mixed aorist in -σετο, see 136n.
(δύσεθ᾽). κηώεντα ‘fragrant’; ancient readers derived it either from καίω,
‘burn’ (i.e. ‘fragrant like incense’), or from κεῖμαι, ‘lie’ (of the riches,
κειμήλια, that ‘lie’ in the storeroom, cf. 47n.). The latter suggestion is based
on the fact that *κηώεις is mostly used in connection with the θάλαμος, as a
storeroom (but cf. 3.382, of Paris’ bed chamber). The first explanation
tallies with an internal gloss at 3.382, εὐώδεϊ κηώεντι (‘fragrant and κ.’).
Another gloss, at 24.191–2, κηώεντα, κέδρινον (‘κ. and made of cedar’) also
suggests a scented storeroom: Lilja 1972: 47–9; van Wees 2005: 14. Later
poets take the word to refer to fragrance: cf. Anth. Pal. 7.218.9 (μύρον) and
Nonnus, Dion. 12.257 (ἄνθεα).

289–92 Herodotus 2.116–17 quotes these lines as evidence that the Cypria
was not by Homer: he observes that, according to the Cypria (fr. 14 West),
Paris and Helen sailed back to Troy in three days, whereas according to this
passage they strayed off course. Herodotus’ comment suggests that in the
course of the fifth century Homer's oeuvre started to be more strictly
defined, that the Iliad held special authority, and that consistency was used
as a criterion for authenticity; see further Graziosi 2007 and Introduction 3
and 6.

289 cf. Od. 15.105. ἔσαν: some of the best manuscripts follow the ancient
grammarian Herodian (M. L. West 2001a: 46) in accentuating ἔσάν οἱ; cf.
M. L. West 1966: 442. οἱ: the dative of advantage suggests that these are
Hecuba's very own, treasured garments; cf. οἱ at 90n., 91n. and 271–2
(τοι…τοι). The poet disregards digamma: cf. 90n. (ὅς οἱ). πέπλοι: cf. 90–1n.
παμποίκιλοι: the adjective ποικίλος is associated with beautifully crafted
objects, such as garments, military equipment, and pieces of furniture. The
derivatives ποίκιλμα (294n.), ποικίλλω (18.590) and παμποίκιλος (cf. Od.
15.105, Hom. Hymn 5.89) are rare: they describe objects in a league of their
own, such as the most beautiful robe made by Helen, the necklaces worn by
Aphrodite when seducing Anchises and the dancing-floor depicted on
Achilles’ shield. ἔργα γυναικῶν: cf. Od. 7.97, where the expression is also
used of πέπλοι. The phrase reminds us that we are here very much in the
world of women, contrast ‘the work of men’, primarily understood as war:
490–3n., 7.234–7.
290 Sidon was a city on the Levantine coast, famous for its wealth; in the
Bible it is known as Ṣîdôn, and to the Assyrians as Ṣīdūnu; cf. Eiselen
1907, Jidejian 1971, Krings 1995. Some ancient readers thought that the
name referred to the wider region which was later called Phoenicia; cf. ΣV
ad Od. 13.285; but Od. 4.83–4 distinguishes between the two, as does
Herodotus at 2.116 (for a compromise solution see ΣA ad 6.291b). Sidon is
reputed for its craftsmanship; cf. N. J. Richardson 1993: 250–1. Sidonian
textiles are not mentioned elsewhere in epic but, for the skills of Phoenician
women, see Od. 15.418 (ἀγλαὰ ἔργ᾽ εἰδυῖα) with Holeschofsky 1969: 171–
2; and, for Phoenician textiles more generally, cf. Bartoloni 1995: 360. The
skill of the abducted women seems to match that of the Sidonian
metalworkers, for which cf. 23.740–3 with ΣbT ad 23.743; Od. 4.615–19 =
15.115–19, 15.425. Σιδονίων: ‘Sidonian (women)’, not ‘(women) of the
Sidonians’: in early epic, the noun γυναῖκες is never followed by a reference
to husbands in the genitive, whereas it can be qualified by an adjective of
origin, cf., e.g., γυναῖκας || Λεσβίδας (9.128–9 ∼ 270–1). The transmitted
accent is difficult (we would expect Σιδονιῶν < Σιδονίη, fem.) but does not
look like an error. The most likely explanation is that the accent marks a
distinction between Σιδόνιος = ‘Sidonian’ and Σιδονίη = ‘Sidon’ in the
following line (cf. 291n.). Aristarchus believed that Homer could use the
masculine form of an adjective with feminine nouns (see Matthaios 1999:
274–7) and on that basis could justify Σιδονίων. τάς: i.e. the women, not
τούς (the garments). In early epic, women can be taken as booty (e.g.
9.128–30, 139–40); they can function as prizes in competitions (23.257–
61); and they can even be given away as gifts (Od. 24.271–9; Hes. fr. 197.1
MW). These particular women seem to have been abducted; cf. 291n. For
the value of captive women who could weave, cf. 456n. αὐτός: Alexandros
himself, emphasising his central role in the story. Ἀλέξανδρος θεοειδής: a
frequent formula. In the Iliad θεοειδής is used primarily of Alexandros and
his father Priam (Bernsdorff 1992: 30–1); for epithets that gravitate towards
certain nouns, cf. 12n. (βοὴν ἀγαθός). For the name Ἀλέξανδρος, see 280n.
(Πάριν).

291 ἤγαγε: the verb suggests that Paris abducted these women, just as he
abducted Helen, cf. ἀνήγαγεν 292, ἄγηται 455. On the verb, and the
practice of abduction, cf., e.g., 3.46–9, 4.238–9, 8.165–6; Gartziou-Tatti
1992: 84, n. 47. Σιδονίηθεν ‘from Sidon’ (Σιδονίη), with separative ending
-θεν; cf. 9.664 τὴν Λεσβόθεν ἦγε, Radif 1997. ἐπιπλώς < ἐπιπλέω, participle
of the root aorist; cf. ἐπέπλων, ‘I sailed’. The expected form ἐπιπλούς (cf.
γνούς < γιγνώσκω) is not attested. The irregular participle seems to be
modelled on ἐπέπλων, ἐπέπλως etc. before bucolic diaeresis, as here; see
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 378. Ancient readers heard it as a shortened
form of ἐπιπλώσας; cf. 3.47 with ΣA ad loc., of the same voyage; 17.197
(γηράς), with ΣAbT ad loc. M. L. West 2001a: 23 suggests that the
transmitted reading is a transcription error from ΕΠΙΠΛŌΣ in the Attic
alphabet, but there is little evidence that the Attic script influenced Homeric
spellings; cf. Heubeck 1979: 164–9; and 353n. (τῶ). εὐρέα πόντον: a
frequent formula in this position. Hesiod parodies the phrase at Op. 650–1.
εὐρέα is an alternative form of the expected accusative εὐρύν, formed on the
basis of dat. εὐρέϊ (cf. formulaic εὐρέϊ πόντωι) and other forms in epsilon:
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 97.

292 τὴν ὁδὸν ἥν ∼ Od. 6.165, of another journey that brings misfortune.
ὁδός is both the road (15n.) and a route or voyage; for the latter meaning see
LfgrE s.v. ὁδός B 2. τήν: that journey, a demonstrative pronoun rather than
article, cf. 9n. and Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 162. Why Paris travelled
back to Troy via Sidon was debated already in antiquity; cf. 289–92n.; and
ΣAbT ad 6.291a; with Kirk 1990: 183; and Stoevesandt 2008: 101–2.
Ἑλένην: this mention of Helen evokes the distant origins of the Trojan War:
she arrived a long time ago, the women of Sidon have since woven the
robes, and the robes have been safely stored away. ἀνήγαγεν: cf. 3.48–9 and
291n. εὐπατέρειαν ‘well-born’, with emphasis on the father. The epithet
looks like an artificial formation, perhaps on the basis of εὐπάτωρ; see Kirk
1990: 199; LfgrE s.v. with further literature. It recurs twice in the Odyssey,
of Helen herself (22.227) and of Tyro (11.235). Helen's father was Zeus (cf.
the formula Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα); Tyro's father, Salmoneus, tried to emulate Zeus
(cf. Hes. fr. 30 MW).

293 ∼ Od. 15.106, with hiatus at the main caesura, as here; for this
prosodic licence see 8n. τῶν: Hecuba chooses the most beautiful garment
out of a pile of ill-omened robes. Ἑκάβη: this is the first time Hecuba is
mentioned by name; contrast 87n. (μητέρι σῆι καὶ ἐμῆι), 251 and 264. The
proper name emphasises her individual agency as she chooses the fateful
robe. For its form and meaning: Stoevesandt 2008: 102.

294 = Od. 15.107. κάλλιστος…ποικίλμασιν ‘most beautiful in its

decorations’. For ποικίλμασιν cf. 289n. (παμποίκιλοι). Note the variation:
Helenos and Hector instructed Hecuba to choose the robe that is
χαριέστατος ἠδὲ μέγιστος (90 = 271). While κάλλιστος describes the
objective quality of beauty, χάρις also evokes the pleasure of the gods as
viewers: see 90n. As we soon realise, Athena takes no pleasure in this gift:
311n. ἠδέ: 90n. μέγιστος: cf. 90n., 271.

295 = Od. 15.108. ἀστὴρ δ᾽ ὣς ἀπέλαμπεν: cf. 19.381, of Achilles’ helmet.

Star similes are frequent in the Iliad and are often ominous (e.g. 11.61–5
and 22.25–32; for a possible exception: 401n., though Astyanax too is
doomed). The simile adds to the sense of foreboding: the peplos shines like
a star, but may not bring good fortune. ὥς: with ἀστήρ, i.e. after the noun,
as often. The original consonant before ὥς is not felt, contrast 443n.
ἀπέλαμπεν ‘shone’. In early epic this verb is more often construed with a
beautiful object or body part in the genitive and its beauty (κάλλος, χάρις) in
the nominative: cf. Hom. Hymn 5.174 κάλλος παρειάων ἀπέλαμπεν. For
shining garments in Homer, and the Mycenaean practice of anointing cloth,
see Shelmerdine 1995 and cf. 482–3n. (κηώδεϊ). ἔκειτο δὲ νείατος ἄλλων: the
fact that Hecuba stores this peplos underneath all the others suggests that
she cherishes it especially; cf. Od. 21.5–14, where Penelope retrieves
Odysseus’ bow from the most remote room in the palace. We now are in the
most remote corner of the most secluded room in the palace – but we are
also at the heart of a problem: Hecuba's dearest possession is the gift of
Paris, and a reminder of his abduction of Helen. νείατος: an isolated
superlative derived from the IE root *ni, ‘low’ (cf. 5.539 νειαίρηι δ᾽ ἐν
γαστρί, ‘in the lower part of the belly’; 10.10 νειόθεν ἐκ κραδίης, ‘from deep
down in his heart’). As often in epic, the superlative is construed with a
genitive; cf. Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 60.

296 βῆ δ᾽ ἰέναι: a frequent formula in this position. The infinitive is

consecutive or final in origin (‘she set off so as to go’), but in extant epic it
is used primarily to add weight and ceremony to a character's departure, as
here. On the syntax, see Schwyzer 1950: 359–60; Chantraine 1948–53: vol.
II, 301; Létoublon 1985: 136. πολλαὶ…γεραιαί: picking up γεραιάς at 287,
in ring composition. Preparations for the ritual are now complete.
μετεσσεύοντο ‘rushed after her’; cf. 21.423 and 23.389, where the verb is
more clearly transitive. μετεσσεύοντο casts Hecuba in the role as leader and
adds to the sense of urgency; cf. 361n. (ἐπέσσυται), 390n. (ἀπέσσυτο).

297–311 The ritual departs in two significant ways from the instructions
originally imparted by Helenos (86–98n.) and faithfully related by Hector
(269–78n.). First, Theano – rather than Hecuba – leads the sacrifice.
Secondly, Theano does not just ask that Diomedes be kept away from Troy,
but that he die in front of the Scaean Gates: the structure and emphasis of
her speech are different (304–10n.), as is her central request (306–7n.). The
narrative context partly accounts for these differences: Helenos’ instructions
were clear and calm, while Theano's words express the pressure felt by the
women and, indeed, the entire community. But there is more: Helenos’
instructions sounded reasonable, whereas Theano's prayer that Diomedes
die in Troy will have struck ancient audiences as doomed: 306–7n. Seers
are usually right in Homer, and the discrepancy between the instructions
imparted by the seer Helenos and the actual ritual carried out by the women
helps to account for Athena's negative reaction: 311n.

297 cf. 88n. αἵ: cf. 9n. This is the first in a series of demonstrative
pronouns which help us to visualise the interaction between the priestess
and the group of women: 298 (τῆισι), 300 (τήν), 301 (αἵ), 302 (ἥ), 312 (αἵ).

298 τῆισι: cf. 297n. ὤϊξε: aorist of οἴγνυμι, ‘open’. West prints ὤειξε against
the manuscripts, but the transmitted form is defensible: Forssmann 2005.
Θεανώ is mentioned also at 5.70–1 and 11.221–4, where we learn more
about her immediate and extended family. She seems to have been a
prominent character in myth: Beazley 1958: 241–2; Kullmann 1960: 276;
M. I. Davies 1977; Espermann 1980: 22–3; and especially Danek 2005 and
2006a. Theano is the wife of Antenor, a prominent Trojan elder who once
hosted Odysseus and Menelaos, when they went to Troy in an attempt to
retrieve Helen: 3.205–8; cf. 7.348–53, where Antenor would like to see
Helen returned. We know of several historical women, some of them
priestesses, who were named Theano: this detail adds to the impression that
the Trojan priestess was a prominent and positive figure in the Greek
imagination; see B. Nagy 1979; and Lefkowitz 1996: 80–1. καλλιπάρηος ‘of
the beautiful cheeks’ (παρειαί); Theano's most characteristic epithet (302,
11.224) and one she shares with other attractive women and goddesses.

299 Κισσηΐς: the patronymic, in progressive enjambment, enables the poet

to expand on Theano's family background, cf. 13n. Her father Kisses is said
to live in Thrace at 11.222–4. Later authors make him the father of Hecuba
too (e.g. Eur. Hec. 3). Ἀντήνορος: cf. 298n. (Θεανώ). ἱπποδάμοιο ‘horse-
taming’ (δαμάζω). In the singular, the epithet is used of both Trojan and
Achaean characters; in the plural, of the Trojans only. See 461n. and M.
Parry 1971: 66, 184–7.

300 Theano represents the entire community who elected her, cf. ΣbT ad
6.300. The line highlights an implicit tension in the performance of the
ritual: on the one hand there is Hecuba's robe – a symbol of the Trojans’
support for Priam, his family and even his wayward son Paris; on the other,
there is Theano's public office and the attempt, on the part of the Trojans, to
interact with the gods in a way that benefits the whole community. On the
difficulties of distinguishing between family concerns and public duty, see
Introduction 4.4: the issue is at the heart of book 6 and affects Hector above
all others. τήν: 297n. Ἀθηναίης ἱέρειαν: Theano is portrayed as a priestess of
Athena also on the Astarita Crater of c. 560 BCE; see M. I. Davies 1977: 78–
81; Danek 2005: 12–16. She is the only female priest in early hexameter
poetry.

301 αἵ: 297n. δ᾽: the first of three δέ-clauses which briskly describe the
ritual as it unfolds; cf. 302, 304. ὀλολυγῆι: a ritual female cry, only here in
the Iliad, though cf. Sappho fr. 44.31 Voigt, where the old women of Troy
utter an ὀλολυγή at the wedding of Hector and Andromache. At Od. 4.767 it
is uttered after a prayer; at Od. 3.450 (ὀλόλυξαν) it accompanies the axe
blow which paralyses the sacrificial animal, before its throat is cut; see
Wickert-Micknat 1982: 31–2. Ἀθήνηι χεῖρας ἀνέσχον ∼ 3.318 = 7.177; cf.
257n. For raised hands accompanying the ὀλολυγή, see Pulleyn 1997: 179.
302 ἥ: 297n. δ᾽: 301n. ἄρα marks the moment at which Theano carries out
Helenos’ instructions; cf. 303n. Θεανὼ καλλιπάρηος: cf. 298n.

303 ∼ 92n. ∼ 273. The identical phrasing suggests that Helenos’

instructions are followed to the letter. In her prayer, however, Theano will
make some significant changes: 304–10n.

304–10 Theano's prayer is reported verbatim: her precise words matter in

this ritual context, and we immediately realise that she reverses the order of
Helenos’ instructions and makes a more extreme request. According to
Helenos, the women were supposed to promise a sacrifice first and then ask
for Diomedes to be kept away from Troy (93–7, cf. 274–8). Now Theano
starts by asking Athena to break Diomedes’ spear and let him die in front of
the Scaean Gates (306–7n.); and then she promises a sacrifice (note the
addition of αὐτίκα νῦν: 308n.). It is only at the end of her prayer that she
echoes precisely the words uttered by Helenos and repeated by Hector
(309–10n.). Theano's choice of words expresses the agony and fear of the
Trojan women; yet her central plea will have struck ancient audiences as
ultimately doomed to fail: 306–7n. At the beginning of his aristeia,
Diomedes successfully prayed to Athena for strength (5.114–21); as we
soon realise, the goddess is still on his side: 311n. For further discussion of
Diomedes’ prayer in relation to Theano's, see Graziosi and Haubold 2005:
113–14. Lang 1975: 310–11 collects parallels for Theano's promise of
future sacrifice and argues that the terms of her prayer are potentially
insulting to the goddess; Morrison 1991 discusses Theano's prayer as an
instance of a type scene.

304 εὐχομένη δ᾽ ἠρᾶτο: the participle εὐχόμενος/-μένη is often combined

with a verb of speech, though only here with a form of ἀράομαι, ‘pray,
vow’; cf. the metrically and phonetically similar εὐχόμενος δ᾽ ἄρα εἶπεν
(16.513 = Od. 7.330), and cf. 311n. (ὣς ἔϕατ᾽ εὐχομένη). ἀρᾶσθαι is used
primarily of solemn vows or wishes, also as uttered by priests (cf. 1.11
ἀρητῆρα and 35 ἠρᾶθ᾽, of the priest Chryses); epic εὔχεσθαι has a broader
range of meaning, cf. 211n. In some cases the verbs are used as synonyms
(LfgrE s.v. ἀράομαι, ἀρήμεναι B) and both have previously described
prayers uttered by the women of Troy: 115 (ἀρήσασθαι), 240 (εὔχεσθαι).
Now, in combination, they add solemnity to Theano's speech and mark the
moment at which the prayer to Athena is finally uttered; for alternative
explanations: Stoevesandt 2008: 104. Διὸς κούρηι μεγάλοιο: of Athena, in
the context of prayer, also at 312, 10.296, Od. 6.323, and 24.521; she is the
maiden daughter of Zeus par excellence.

305 An unusual and solemn opening, which draws attention to Theano's

role in shaping the prayer. Contrast Theano's formulations at the end of her
speech: 309–10n. πότνι᾽ Ἀθηναίη ‘lady Athena’; cf. Mycenaean a-ta-na-po-
ti-ni-ja, Aura Jorro 1985: 112. The phrase occurs only here in early epic,
though Odysseus addresses Athena as πότνα θεά at Od. 13.391 (see also
Od. 5.215 and 20.61, of other deities). πότνια is used exclusively of
mothers and goddesses: 264n.; it is a standard epithet of Hera. ἐρυσίπτολι <
(ϝ)ἔρυμαι, ‘protect, save’ (cf. Latin seruare; no hiatus) + πτόλις (cf. Att.
πόλις). Theano addresses Athena as the protector of cities, though in the
Iliad she does not act in that capacity (18.516–19 is an exception). The
epithet occurs only here in the poem; by contrast, it features in the two
Homeric Hymns to Athena: 11.1 and 28.3. Ancient audiences will have
recognised in Theano's words an appeal to a well-known trait of the
goddess, which, however, does not manifest itself in the Iliad. On Athena's
relationship to the city, see further 311n. and Introduction 3.1. Linguistic
considerations lend support to the transmitted form ἐρυσίπτολις (Chantraine
1999 s.v. ἔρυμαι), which is also attested in the Homeric Hymns, and
Callimachus, fr. 626 Pfeiffer. For the reading ῥυσίπτολις, which the scholia
recommend (ΣA and T ad loc.), cf. Aesch. Sept. 129; and TrGF III F 451q 7.
δῖα θεάων ‘brilliant one among the goddesses’ (partitive genitive); a
frequent formula in early Greek epic, though only here in a direct address.
On δῖος, see 31n.

306–7 Up to now, ancient audiences might have thought they were

witnessing a successful ritual, despite Hecuba's problematic choice of
garment (288–95n.). When, however, Theano asks for Diomedes to be
killed in front of the Scaean Gates, the futility of the women's plea becomes
more obvious: ancient readers knew that Diomedes was not destined to die
at Troy. Theano's words resemble those used of two characters who
famously did die there: Patroclus (16.801) and Achilles (22.360).
306 ἆξον δὴ ἔγχος: this is not what Helenos suggested (96–7 = 277–8),
though he too was especially worried about Diomedes’ spear, cf. 97n.
(ἄγριον αἰχμητήν). The phrase is metrically awkward (hiatus after δή; ἔγχος
uniquely spread across two feet); for expressive uses of metre, see
Introduction 2.1. δή: the request is urgent. ἔγχος: cf. 31n. ἠδέ: cf. 90n.

307 πρηνέα δὸς πεσέειν: as often in the Iliad, falling face down is
equivalent to dying; cf. 42–3n. For the form πεσέειν (aorist), see 82n. δός:
the verb δίδωμι is standardly used of divine gifts; cf. 22.379, also of the
death of an enemy. Σκαιῶν προπάροιθε πυλάων: in full view of the Trojan
people (cf. 373n.). This is also where Achilles will die (22.359–60); for
Diomedes as a substitute Achilles, cf. 98n.

308 αὐτίκα νῦν: this is Theano's addition, contrast Helenos’ words (93–4 =
274–5). The adverbs correct the order of her speech by emphasising that the
sacrifice will happen ‘immediately’. Her phrasing betrays her sense of
urgency. In fact, women never sacrifice cattle in the Iliad, so all they can do
is promise, at this stage; cf. 93–4n. and 270n.

309–10 The final lines in Theano's prayer match exactly Helenos’ phrasing
(94–5 = 275–6); contrast the overall structure and content of her prayer
(304–10n.), and its distinctive opening (305n.).

311 A brief and shocking conclusion to the ritual, without exact parallels in
Homeric poetry (though see esp. 2.419–20; and Lateiner 1997: 260–1);
contrast the formulaic ὣς ἔϕατ᾽ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δ᾽ ἔκλυε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη: 5.121
= 23.771 = Od. 3.385 = Od. 6.328; cf. Od. 2.267 and similar phrases
involving other gods. The poet does not tell us why Athena turns down the
women's offer, though some aspects of their ritual seem unlikely to please
her: cf. 288–95n. (on Hecuba's choice of garment) and 306–7n. (on
Theano's request that Diomedes be killed). Athena remains firmly on the
Achaean side and does not forsake Diomedes – whom she has just
supported during his aristeia. In book 5 the goddess took off her own self-
made peplos, brandished her spear (5.733–47) and helped Diomedes use his
(5.855–7); now she refuses the gift of another peplos made by human
hands, preserves Diomedes’ spear and does not grant his death. After the
fall of Troy, Athena will change sides: here, as elsewhere, the narrative
invites the audience to reflect on what they know about the fall of Troy, see
further Introduction 3. Ancient readers found this line difficult: Aristarchus
marked it for deletion (ΣΑ ad 6.311a ἀθετεῖται), but for no good reason. It is
certainly not ‘superfluous’ (περισσός), as he alleged: 311 picks up 304, in
ring composition. 312 rounds off the communal ritual as a whole and does
not therefore make 311 redundant; cf. 17.423–4, 22.515–23.1 with Bolling
1944: 99; Broccia 1967: 48, n. 5; and, for the alternating focus on the
women and the priestess, 297n. Nor is Athena's gesture ‘ridiculous’
(γελοῖον), if we bear in mind that ἀνένευε is the standard way of describing a
god's rejection of a prayer, and that the verb covers the entire semantic
spectrum from actual physical movement to mere refusal (LfgrE s.v. νεύω B
II 1); ancient readers focused on the statue and therefore understood the
verb to describe physical movement. For Virgil's reading, see Aen. 1.482
with Barchiesi 1998; and Schmit-Neuerburg 1999: 344, n. 919. ὣς ἔϕατ᾽
εὐχομένη: a common speech-concluding formula, cf. 51n. The adaptation of
the standard pattern ὣς ἔϕατ᾽ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δ᾽ ἔκλυε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη results in
hiatus after εὐχομένη, which is, however, mitigated by the main caesura; cf.
175n. Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη: a frequent noun–epithet combination (Venturi
Bernardini 1999: 61). The meaning of the epithet was debated already in
antiquity: cf. Rank 1951: 65; Burkert 1985: 403 n. 4; LfgrE s.v. Παλλάς Σχ.
One popular ancient derivation linked the epithet to Athena's brandishing of
the spear (e.g. Eur. HF 1003: Παλλὰς κραδαίνουσ᾽ ἔγχος; cf. ΣD ad 1.200
ἀπὸ τοῦ πάλλειν καὶ κραδαίνειν τὸ δόρυ). The folk etymology seems
relevant to Hom. Hymn 28.9; cf. also Eur. Ion 209–11 (of Pallas Athena
brandishing her shield).

312–69: The Encounter between Hector, Paris and Helen

312–17 As Hector approaches the palace of Paris, we are treated to a

description of the building and its history. The palace is beautiful, like its
owner – and new. We are not told why Paris had his own palace built by the
best workmen in Troy: the other sons and daughters of Priam live in their
father's palace (242–52n.), with the exception of Hector (317n.). The
passage may imply that Paris did not grow up in Troy but only settled there
as an adult. Paris’ past is relevant also to the interpretation of Hector's
words to Hecuba: 280–5n.; see further Introduction 1 and 4.2.

312–13 Hector went to look for Paris, while Hecuba set off to organise the
ritual; now the two actions are presented in succession; cf. 280n. Line 312
concludes the ritual, while shifting the emphasis from Theano's actions to
those of all the women; cf. 311n. αἳ μέν: the demonstrative pronoun
articulates the description of the ritual, cf. 297n.; for μέν, cf. 279n. ῥ᾽
highlights the scene of prayer before the narrative moves on to Hector's
actions; cf. 232n. Διὸς κούρηι μεγάλοιο: 304n. βεβήκει ‘was on his way’
(unaugmented pluperfect).

314–17 The best workmanship was also employed in order to build Paris’
ships: 5.59–64. They marked the ‘beginning of evil’ (νῆας ἐΐσας ||
ἀρχεκάκους 5.62–3); the palace seems equally ill-fated.

314 καλά: 195n. Paris’ palace is described as very beautiful (δόμον

περικαλλέα) at 3.421. αὐτός: this is the second reference, in a short
compass, to the deeds of ‘Alexandros himself’: 290n. Both passages remind
us that Paris was very able to act of his own accord, in the past – and
highlight, by contrast, his present inactivity. σὺν ἀνδράσιν: Paris typically
enlists the help of others: cf. 5.59–64 and 11.123–5; contrast Od. 23.183–
204. οἳ τότ᾽ ἄριστοι: an ambitious project; cf. Hes. fr. 1.3 MW ( ἳ τότ᾽
ἄρισται ἔσα ). Some ancient readers saw in this passage a parallel between
Paris’ palace in Troy and that of Menelaos in Sparta: ΣbT ad 6.315.

315 ἐνὶ Τροίηι ἐριβώλακι: ἐριβῶλαξ and its variant ἐρίβωλος mean ‘with big
clods’ and hence ‘fertile’, ‘good for ploughing’ (βῶλος = ‘clod of arable
earth’, with intensifying ἐρι-). The epithet is sometimes used of other
places, and of fields in general, but it most typically characterises Troy
(Létoublon 2003: 29–30). The formula is common in this metrical position,
also in the accusative. τέκτονες ἄνδρες: skilled ‘builders’ of a wide range of
objects, cf., e.g., 4.110–11, 13.390–1, 23.712–13. For the formulation, cf.,
e.g., αἰπόλοι ἄνδρες (2.474), ἄνδρες θηρητῆρες (12.170), χαλκῆες ἄνδρες
(4.187 ∼ 216).
316 οἵ οἱ ἐποίησαν rephrases αὐτὸς ἔτευξε σὺν ἀνδράσιν, drawing attention
to the work others do on behalf of Paris, cf. 314n. ποιέω emphasises the
activity of building whereas τεύχω places more emphasis on the result, but
it is not always possible to distinguish clearly between the two verbs (cf.
18.483 ἐν μὲν γαῖαν ἔτευξ᾽ and 18.490 ἐν δὲ δύω ποίησε πόλεις). θάλαμον καὶ
δῶμα καὶ αὐλήν: the workmen start from the innermost chamber and build
outwards; cf. Od. 23.190–204 (Odysseus builds his θάλαμος around a tree,
which will become part of his marriage bed). Hector will soon enter the
palace and go all the way into the θάλαμος: 318–24n.

317 The location of the palace is a powerful reminder that Paris is at the
heart of the city, and very close to Priam and Hector. On his position in
Troy, see Introduction 3.3. Ἕκτορος: apart from Paris, Hector is the only
son of Priam who lives in his own palace, cf. 312–17n. This arrangement
emphasises his status as the best of the Trojans and may also reflect family
structures: he is the only son of Priam who is also himself portrayed as a
father. ἐν πόλει ἄκρηι: the same formula describes the location of Athena's
temple, where the women pray for relief (88n. and 297); and of the
assembly, where the Trojans anxiously debate their fate: 7.345.

318–24 Hector enters the palace, wielding an enormous spear, and finds
Paris in the θάλαμος, looking after his weapons. Helen, meanwhile,
supervises her handmaids’ weaving in exemplary female fashion (324n., cf.
491–2n.): there is an air of unreality about her, but her presence reminds us
that Paris, as well as Hector, is out of place in this female sphere: cf. ΣT ad
6.321. It is a memorable tableau, which leads on to two of the most difficult
conversations in the whole poem. See further Introduction 4.3.

318–20 ∼ 8.493–5. Aristarchus thought that the lines fitted the martial
context of book 8; Zenodotus thought that they properly belonged here: ΣΑ
ad 8.493a. It is of course unnecessary to suppose that they originally
appeared in one passage only; here they create a contrast with Hector's
domestic surroundings; later they show that his appearance suits the
battlefield.
318 ἔνθ᾽ brings the narrative back to Hector. The setting for each of
Hector's encounters in book 6 is marked by this adverb at line beginning: cf.
251n. (ἔνθα); 394 (ἔνθ᾽). εἰσῆλθε: Hector enters the palace but later refuses
Helen's invitation to ‘come in’, εἴσελθε: 354n. As always, he knows that he
must not be delayed; see Introduction 4. Διὶ ϕίλος: only in the Iliad (in early
hexameter), and often of Hector. The spelling of the manuscripts (two
words rather than one) accurately reflects the fact that ϕίλος, ‘dear’, has
retained much of its original force in this expression; contrast 73n.
(ἀρηϊϕίλων). Zeus’s special concern for Hector is dramatised at 22.168–76.
For final long iota in Διί, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 227, n. 1. ἐν δ᾽ ἄρα
χειρί: the evidential particle draws attention to the spear in Hector's hand.
There is an obvious contrast between Hector's martial appearance and his
domestic surroundings: cf. 264–8n. It is standard etiquette to leave spears
outside the house: e.g. Od. 1.121–9.

319 ἔγχος: cf. 31n. ἑνδεκάπηχυ: only here and in the identical line 8.494.
Since the Giants are ἐννεαπήχεες…|| εὖρος, ‘nine cubits wide’, at Od.
11.311–12, this weapon is obviously meant to be huge. Achilles too is
famous for his huge spear (cf. 16.141–4) and Ajax wields a naval weapon
of 22 cubits, i.e. twice the length of Hector's spear, at 15.677–8. The ancient
variant ἔχεν δεκάπηχυ, based on different word division, is less well attested
and seems less likely; cf. ΣA ad 6.319ab. It does, however, show that
ancient readers were fascinated by Hector's spear and speculated about its
exact length. λάμπετο: the shining tip of Hector's spear is awe-inspiring
rather than pretty; on the gleaming menace of metals, cf. 469n., 473
(παμϕανόωσαν), 11.61–6, 12.462–6, 20.44–6 and 20.156, where the whole
Trojan plain gleams with bronze. δουρός: cf. 3n.

320 The description of Hector's spear is detailed and frightening, cf. 319n.
No metals are mentioned in connection with Paris’ weapons, cf. 321–2n.
(περικαλλέα τεύχε᾽ ἕποντα). αἰχμὴ χαλκείη: a typical battlefield formula; cf.
11n. περί ‘around it’, here used as an adverb rather than a preposition.
χρύσεος…πόρκης: evidently a ring that tightens the socket of the spearhead
onto the shaft; cf. ΣAbT ad 6.320a. Only here, at 8.495, and in the Little
Iliad, fr. 5 West (of Achilles’ spear, which likewise has a golden ring). For
uncontracted χρύσεος, cf. 220n.
321–2 Translate: ‘…looking after his exceedingly beautiful weapons, both
shield and body armour, and handling his curved bow’. The combination of
weapons is jarring: shield and bow are not normally used together. What is
obviously missing here is a spear: Paris damaged his when fighting against
Menelaos; cf. 3.346–9. Now he is handling a bow, which becomes his main
weapon from this point onwards: cf. 11.385 (his bow was first mentioned at
3.17, but in book 6 he has not used it yet). The bow is repeatedly disparaged
in the Iliad as ineffectual (5.197–216) or treacherous (11.369–95), though it
has different associations in the hands of Apollo (1.43–52), and there are
prizes for good archery (23.850–83). Ancient readers will have been keenly
aware of its ambivalent connotations; see, e.g., Eur. HF 159–64 and 188–
203; for modern discussion see Hijmans 1976, Sutherland 2001, and Farron
2003. The other weapons mentioned here are defensive. The description of
the weapons evokes Paris’ humiliating defeat at the hands of Menelaos, his
miraculous survival and his failure to return Helen. τὸν δ᾽ εὗρ᾽ ἐν θαλάμωι:
Hector finds Paris in the most private room in the palace, cf. 316n. The
θάλαμος need not always be a bedroom (cf. 244n. and 288n.), but here it
must be: Paris was last mentioned in bed, in the θάλαμος, having sex with
Helen: Introduction 4.3. περικαλλέα τεύχε᾽ ἕποντα ∼ Od. 24.165; cf. Il.
17.436. περικαλλέα: not usually of weapons, the scholia pour scorn on
Paris’ ostentation: ΣbT ad 6.321. ἕποντα: what exactly Paris is doing with
his weapons remains unclear, but it seems to be rather leisurely. The verb
ἕπω (< *sep-) = ‘occupy oneself with’ was originally distinct from ἕπομαι
(< *sekw-) = ‘follow’, but forms of the two roots are conflated already in
Homer; see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 308–9 and 388. The construction
without preposition/preverb (e.g. περί) is unique; perhaps περικαλλέα was
deemed sufficient, cf. LfgrE s.v. ἕπω B 5. ἀγκύλα τόξ᾽: cf. 5.209 and Od.
21.264, also ἀγκυλότοξος at 2.848, 10.428. A less frequent alternative of the
common καμπύλα τόξα; see also 39n. ἁϕόωντα: only here. The compound
ἀμϕαϕάω, ‘touch’, ‘handle’, ‘inspect’, is used of bows at Od. 8.215 and
19.586. At 338 Paris claims that he is preparing for battle, so he may be
getting his bow ready, but there seems to be a certain vagueness to this
description. Uncertainty over the precise nature of Paris’ activities may
have resulted in the variant reading τόξα ϕόωντα, ‘shining the bow’,
according to some ancient readers, but it is perhaps better understood as
‘the shining bow’ (ϕάε is intransitive at Od. 14.502; cf. Hesychius s.v.
ϕῶντα = λάμποντα). The vulgate reading is preferable.
323 Ἀργείη: a common epithet of Helen (otherwise only of Hera); it
describes her origin and is a powerful reminder of the conflict she caused,
first when suitors gathered from the whole of Greece and competed for her
hand (Hes. frr. 200.1–2, 204.42–3 and 54–5 MW), and then when she
caused the war between Argives (= Greeks, 66n.) and Trojans (2.160–2,
4.173–5, 7.350–1, Od. 17.118–19). In this context, the epithet immediately
characterises Helen as an outsider; the modern description ‘Helen of Troy’
is not attested in Homeric epic. μετ᾽ ἄρα δμωιῆισι γυναιξίν: cf. Od. 17.505
and 22.427; see also Il. 9.477 and 375n. δμῶες/δμωιαί are servants who may
have been acquired as booty (Od. 1.398), passed on within the family (Od.
4.736) and perhaps even bought (Od. 14.449–52; though Mesaulios is not
expressly called a δμώς). Od. 24.210 suggests that destitute people could
become δμῶες out of necessity. μετ᾽ ‘among’. ἄρα emphasises Helen's
presence. She is, as ever, the centre of attention.

324 ἧστο: in necessary enjambment, as often with forms of this verb; cf.,
e.g., 13.523–4; and Od. 4.438–9. καί: 1n. ἀμϕιπόλοισι: always of female
servants in Homer; the term implies a closer, more personal relationship
than δμώς/δμωιή; cf. 372n (καὶ ἀμϕιπόλωι ἐϋπέπλωι). περικλυτὰ ἔργα
κέλευε: the women must be weaving, cf. 289n. and 491–2n., with Wickert-
Micknat 1982: 38–9. The adjective περικλυτά is used of female work only
here, but fits that activity: it usually describes gifts (e.g. 9.121; 18.449) and
is a standard epithet of Hephaistos, the divine craftsman (18.383, 587, 590
etc.). The works supervised by Helen are famous and beautiful, like all
things connected with her: περικλυτά echoes περικαλλέα at 321 (of Paris’
weapons) but also evokes the robe Helen was weaving in book 3, which
depicted the many trials suffered by Trojans and Achaeans on her behalf
(πολέας…ἀέθλους 3.126; cf. θέσκελα ἔργα at 3.130). That robe was indeed
famous – and has been discussed at length by modern scholars: Bergren
1979–80 and 1983; Kennedy 1986; Lynn-George 1988: 28–30; Taplin
1992: 97–8; Austin 1994: 37–41; Pantelia 1993; and Roisman 2006: 8–11,
with further bibliography.

325–31 Hector's speech is short and to the point: the people are perishing
on Paris’ behalf, and he should return to the fighting immediately – before
the city goes up in flames. The speech is introduced as a harshly worded
reproach (325n.), though in fact it is relatively restrained. The frequent
runovers (327–30) may betray Hector's exasperation, but he does not
explicitly accuse Paris of being a coward (as ΣbT ad 6.327–8 point out) and
stops short of saying that Paris should fight harder than everyone else (as
Kirk 1990: 202–3 observes). The situation is so difficult that it requires a
more delicate approach: Introduction 4.3.

325 = 3.38 (again of Hector to Paris); cf. 13.768. The line introduces
Hector's speech as an instance of νεῖκος (‘harsh reproach’, ‘strife’); cf.
Martin 1989: 68–77. The Trojans often refer to Paris as the cause of νεῖκος
(3.87, 7.374, 388, 22.116); and at 24.29 he is said to have ‘found fault’
(νείκεσσε) with Athena and Hera, when he judged their beauty. The actual
speech, however, is less openly insulting than this line suggests: cf. 325–
31n. νείκεσσεν ἰδών ∼ 4.368, cf. 4.336 = Od. 17.215. At an early stage of
the epic tradition the phrase is likely to have been νείκεσσε (ϝ)ιδών. αἰσχροῖς
ἐπέεσσι ‘with ugly words’. There is a stark contrast between Hector's
martial words and appearance, and the beauty of Paris’ palace, bedroom,
weapons and wife. The expression ὀνειδείοις ἐπέεσσι would be less strong;
cf. Cairns 1993: 58 and 60. For the suggestion that αἰσχροῖς ἐπέεσσι derives
from αἰσχροῖσι ϝέπεσσι, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 119 and 206 with n.
1. In the Iliad the preferred form is ἐπέεσσι, cf. Blanc 2007: 17; Cassio 2006
argues that the form featured in Aeolic dialects and is not artificial.

326 Hector opens his speech by suggesting that Paris may be angry –
which raises the question of why he should be angry and at whom; cf.
ΣAbT ad 6.326ab. Rather than assuming that Hector knows the cause of
Paris’ behaviour, it seems better to understand, with the bT scholia, that he
is giving Paris ‘a pretext for his inactivity’; cf. Plut. De adulatore et amico
73E. Even great warriors such as Meleager and Achilles withdraw from
battle out of anger (cf. 9.553–99), so this is the one explanation that allows
Paris to save face; cf. 325–31n. For other interpretations: Hijmans 1975; L.
Collins 1987 and 1988: 27–35; Heitsch 2001; Stoevesandt 2008: 110–11.
δαιμόνι᾽: no one in the Iliad ever addresses Paris by name; Hector comes
closest when he calls him Δύσπαρι at 3.39 = 13.769. δαιμόνιε is used always
in the vocative and only in character speech: its precise meaning is difficult
to define (Brunius-Nilsson 1955), but the word refers to somebody who is
familiar to the speaker and yet behaves in an extraordinary and
objectionable way; e.g. 2.189–90 and 199–200, with J. M. Foley 1999: 193.
It features repeatedly in the second half of book 6 and indicates that
tensions are running high; cf. 407n., 486n. and 521n., with Van Nortwick
2001. οὐ μὲν καλά = Od. 17.381 = 483; ∼ Il. 8.400, 13.116, etc. Paris and
his palace may be beautiful (314n., 321–2n.), but his behaviour is not. μέν:
emphatic, another μέν follows (327n.), and then the central δέ-clause (328–
9n.). χόλον: cf. 166n. Homeric characters can be ‘gripped’ (αἱρέω, λαμβάνω,
ἔχω) or ‘overcome’ (ἱκάνω, ἐμπίπτω, δύομαι) by χόλος; but they are also
responsible for ‘putting’ it into their heart (Od. 24.248). τόνδ᾽ emphasises
Hector's perspective: Hijmans 1975: 180. Translate ‘this anger of yours’.
ἔνθεο: 2nd pers. sing. aor.; for the uncontracted form, cf. 270n. θυμῶι: cf.
51n.

327 λαοὶ μὲν ϕθινύθουσι: a highly charged phrase in early Greek epic, and a
damning indictment of Paris’ behaviour. Leaders must not let the people
perish: it is their duty to fight at the forefront of battle and protect them; cf.
5.643 (σοὶ δὲ κακὸς μὲν θυμὸς ἀποϕθινύθουσι δὲ λαοί); 80n. (λαὸν
ἐρυκάκετε), 214n. (ποιμένα λαῶν), 222–3n. (ἀπώλετο λαὸς Ἀχαιῶν) and Od.
8.523–4. Paris’ behaviour is entirely unacceptable: he remains safe inside
the city while others fight on his behalf; note that, in her anxiety,
Andromache later suggests that Hector should do the same: 433n. μέν adds
to the previous line, cf. 326n. (μέν), and builds up to the central accusation
in the next, cf. 328–9n. (δ᾽). περὶ πτόλιν αἰπύ τε τεῖχος ∼ 11.181, Od.
14.472; cf. 34–5n. (αἰπεινήν).

328–9 μαρνάμενοι: progressive runover, as often with participles of

μάρνασθαι. σέο δ᾽ εἵνεκ᾽…ἀμϕιδέδηε: a striking variation on the traditional
view that the war was fought because of Helen (e.g. 3.28 and 156–7, Od.
11.438; Hes. Op. 165, fr. 196.4 MW [ε]ἵνεκα κούρης). Hector tries to hold
Paris solely responsible for the war (cf. 3.57 and 100, and 524–5n.); but
Helen soon intervenes and emphasises her own role in the matter; cf. 356n.
(εἵνεκ᾽ ἐμεῖο κυνός). δ᾽ marks the core of Hector's speech, cf. 326 (μέν) and
327 (μέν). ἀϋτή τε πτόλεμός τε = 16.63 ∼ 1.492; Hom. Hymn 11.3; cf. Il.
14.37. As often in Homer, this is a vivid combination of an abstract noun
(πτόλεμος) with one that appeals to the senses (ἀϋτή is the clamour of
battle, and hence the battle itself); cf. 373n. (γοόωσά τε μυρομένη τε). τόδ᾽:
the pronoun brings the war right into Paris’ secluded chamber. ἀμϕιδέδηε
‘rages around the city’ (perfect); cf. 12.35–6, ἀμϕὶ μάχη ἐνοπή τε δεδήει ||
τεῖχος ἐΰδμητον, also 13.736, 17.253, 20.18; Hes. Sc. 155. Epic δαίω is an
expressive, menacing word (cf. 20.316–17) and often occurs in metaphors;
in the perfect and pluperfect it never describes actual fire, but rather
fighting, rumour that stirs soldiers to battle, groaning, flashing eyes, and
dust on the battlefield. Here, the ‘burning’ battle anticipates the image of
the burning city at the end of the speech: 331n. σὺ δ᾽ ἂν μαχέσαιο καὶ ἄλλωι:
Hector now tries to cast Paris in a more positive role. For the rare use,
inspired by context, of μάχομαι = ‘attack verbally’, cf. 5.875, 9.32 and
13.118–19.

330 Hector invites Paris to share his point of view. His words suggest that
Paris’ present behaviour is as bad as that of any soldier who neglects to
fight. In fact, it is worse, because he caused the war in the first place; cf.
325–31n. μεθιέντα ‘letting go of, relenting in his pursuit of’ (with a term for
battle in the genitive). μεθίημι and the derivative μεθημοσύνη are often used
of warriors who do not pull their weight in battle; cf. 523n. Hector's rhetoric
gains strength from the close association between war, anger and this verb
for relenting; cf. 1.283, 2.241, 15.138, with 326n. ἴδοις: by implication, this
is how Hector sees Paris; cf. ἰδών at 325. στυγεροῦ ‘hateful’, one of many
negative epithets of war.

331 A brisk end to a brisk speech. ἀλλ᾽ ἄνα ‘but come!᾽ (lit. ‘but up!᾽). Also
used to encourage Achilles to fight after a prolonged period of inactivity, at
9.247 and 18.178. μὴ…θέρηται ∼ 11.667; lit. ‘lest the city be warmed by
fire’. The precise tone of the expression is difficult to gauge but seems
sarcastic. Both here and at 11.167 the fire is seen as the responsibility of an
inactive leader. ἄστυ: cf. 95n. πυρὸς δηΐοιο ‘enemy fire’. δήϊος is an
attribute of fire as a war weapon, cf. 9.347 etc.; it is also used of the enemy,
and of war; cf. 82n., 481n. and 7.119. Hector makes clear that the war is
about to enter the city; not even Paris’ bedroom is safe. Some ancient
readers heard in the expression an echo of δαίω = ‘burn’; cf. ΣD ad 2.415.
332–41 Paris’ reply reveals many humiliating details about his state of
mind, his marriage and his relationship to Hector. He considers Hector's
reproach appropriate (333n.), though many ancient and modern readers
have actually found it restrained: 325–31n. He then corrects Hector: his
motivation was grief, not anger: 335n., 336n. He then states that he was
about to return to the battlefield anyway (though he seems unhurried; cf.
321–2n.); and that Helen was sweetly encouraging him to do so (we know,
however, that her words were far from ‘soft’: 337–9n.). Finally, he invites
Hector to stay while he gets ready – only to change his mind and suggest
that he go ahead: 340–1n. On this speech, double motivation and the
difficulties of explaining Paris’ behaviour, see Introduction 4.3.

332 = 3.58, 13.774; the line follows a standard pattern; see Edwards 1970:
4–5. In contrast with Hector's speech-introduction (325n.), that given to
Paris is entirely unremarkable. αὖτε: cf. 73n. προσέειπεν: cf. 122n.
Ἀλέξανδρος θεοειδής: cf. 290n.

333 = 3.59. Here as in book 3, Paris claims he is going to answer because

he judges his brother's words to be acceptable (ἐπεὶ…|| τοὔνεκα). For Paris’
tendency to pass judgement on those who address him, cf. 7.356–8. Ἕκτορ:
Paris addresses Hector by name, contrast 326n. κατ᾽ αἶσαν…οὐδ᾽ ὑπὲρ
αἶσαν: for a similarly ambivalent reaction, cf. Od. 22.46–7; Il. 17.716 is a
more straightforward endorsement. αἶσα is the appointed share (cf. 18.327,
Od. 5.40; Hes. Theog. 422, Op. 578), and hence a measure of propriety in a
wide range of contexts: Yamagata 1994: 116–19, with LfgrE s.v. αἶσα; see
also 487n. ἐνείκεσας: cf. 325n.

334 The expression, with variations in the first half of the line, is used
when a character with better knowledge than his addressee explains things
‘as they really are’; at Od. 18.129 this takes the form of a gentle reproach.
There tends to be a difference in authority between speaker and addressee:
Odysseus to Eumaeus (Od. 15.318), to Telemachus (Od. 16.259), to a suitor
(Od. 18.129) and to Laertes (Od. 24.265). Paris’ choice of words here
suggests that he is presumptuous or petulant. τοὔνεκά τοι ἐρέω: cf. 333n.
καί: 1n. μευ: for the Ionic contraction see 280n.
335 ‘It is not so much out of anger at the Trojans or blame’ (that I have
stayed in the bedroom). A vague statement that suggests a certain
carelessness on Paris’ part. χόλος picks up Hector's suggestion that Paris is
angry (326n.), and the parallels at 8.407 and Od. 23.213 suggest that Paris
has his own indignation in mind (Τρώων is an objective genitive). However,
νέμεσις more naturally describes the Trojans’ attitude to Paris; cf. LfgrE s.v.
νέμεσις B. Helen later complains that Paris does not understand νέμεσις
(351n., with 343–58n.). τοι echoes τοι in the line above, emphasising Paris’
one-upmanship (‘actually…’). τόσσον: Paris does not altogether deny he
was angry. νεμέσσι: the unexpected form with double sigma seems to be
modelled on Aeolic plurals such as πολίεσσι (< πόλις).

336 ἥμην ἐν θαλάμωι: Hector tactfully failed to describe Paris in quite those
terms, though ἄνα (331n.) implied idleness: ‘sitting down’ is appropriate for
women (324), but among men it attracts blame when there is a war to fight:
cf. 7.94–102, esp. 100; 18.101–6; and Callinus 1.1–4 West. At 3.390–4
Aphrodite described Paris as sitting in the bedroom, looking more like a
dancer than a warrior. Later in this episode Hector declines Helen's
invitation to ‘sit down’, claiming that the Trojans need him to return to the
battlefield: 354n. and 360n. ἔθελον δ᾽ ἄχεϊ προτραπέσθαι ‘I wished to
abandon myself to grief’; cf. 10.79, where Nestor refuses to give in to old
age: οὐ μὲν ἐπέτρεπε γήραϊ λυγρῶι. A self-defeating statement on Paris’
part: προτραπέσθαι elsewhere describes defeated soldiers on the battlefield:
5.700; cf. 16.304 προτροπάδην ϕοβέοντο ‘they were in headlong flight’.
ἄχεϊ: at 3.412 Helen feels ἄχος when Aphrodite orders her to go and join
Paris in bed; here Paris uses the same word to describe his own relocation
to the bedroom. Uniquely, he presents ἄχος as a matter of personal choice:
the word usually describes a character's immediate response to pain
inflicted by others or by circumstance, cf. Andromache's grief (413n.) and
Hector's (524–5n.); see further Mawet 1979: 392; Rijksbaron 1997; and, for
ἄχος as an important Iliadic theme, G. Nagy 1999: ch. 5. For Paris wanting
to turn to grief, cf. 523n. (οὐκ ἐθέλεις); for his motivations and the role of
Aphrodite, see further Introduction 4.3.

337–9 Paris reveals an embarrassing detail: Helen already told him that he
ought to return to the battlefield. He claims her words were soft but at
3.427–36 they were not. Although Helen's attitude is problematic (esp.
when compared to Andromache's), Hector later enlists her support, in order
to ensure that Paris does in fact return to the battlefield: 363n.

337 νῦν δέ marks the beginning of a new section. παρειποῦσ᾽: cf. 62n.
ἄλοχος: when used of human beings, the term normally refers to legitimate
wives (cf., e.g., Od. 1.36: Clytaemnestra remains Agamemnon's ἄλοχος,
even though she now sleeps and lives with Aegisthus); cf. Chantraine
1946–7: 223. The poet never calls Helen the ἄλοχος of Paris; the Trojan
messenger speaking at 7.392–3 diplomatically calls her the κουριδίη ἄλοχος
of Menelaos. Paris’ description is thus at odds with how others see his
relationship to Helen. μαλακοῖς ἐπέεσσιν: Homeric characters are advised to
use ‘soft words’ when they are the weaker party: cf., e.g., 1.582 (Hephaistos
to Hera on how to approach Zeus); Od. 16.286 and 19.5 (Odysseus advises
Telemachus on how to address the suitors); cf. Od. 10.70 (Odysseus to
Aiolos); Hom. Hymn 2.336 (Hermes to Hades). This is how Helen should
speak to Paris; cf. 337–9n. For the dative ἐπέεσσιν see 325n.

338 ὥρμησ᾽ ἐς πόλεμον: the causative use of ὁρμάω (‘stir’) is rare and tends
to describe the influence of gods on mortals, cf. LfgrE s.v. ὁρμάω B. Paris
hints that Helen has extraordinary power over him; cf. also 363n. (ὄρνυθι)
and Introduction 4.3. δοκέει δέ μοι ὧδε καὶ αὐτῶι: contrast Od. 5.360, and
many similar passages. Paris’ own opinion is presented as an afterthought:
cf. 363n. where Hector tells Helen what to say, and hopes that Paris may
take her advice.

339 λώϊον ‘better’, often, as here, in the speaker's personal opinion (with
forms of δοκεῖν). νίκη δ᾽ ἐπαμείβεται ἄνδρας ‘victory alternates between
men’. At 3.438–40 Paris used similar words in order to excuse himself from
fighting. There, as here, he seems supremely casual about the consequences
of his defeat (or victory) for those around him. Hector offers a similarly glib
maxim at 18.309 (ξυνὸς Ἐνυάλιος), with devastating consequences for
himself and the Trojans: 18.310–13. Aristotle argued that maxims revealed
the character of the speaker: Rhet. 2.21 (1394a19–1395b20, esp. 1395b11–
17).
340–1 Paris echoes Hector's ἀλλ᾽ ἄνα (331n.) with an ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε, though in
fact he is making a very different point: Hector wanted Paris to return
immediately to the battlefield; Paris, by contrast, asks his brother to wait a
little. Then he suddenly changes his mind: he suggests that Hector may
want to go ahead and claims he will easily catch up with him. He may be
reacting to some sign of impatience on the part of Hector, who is anxious to
return to the battlefield as soon as possible: here as elsewhere Homer's
poetry is so vivid that we can visualise not just the speaker but also the
reaction of his interlocutor; see Introduction 2.6. Perhaps, rather than
sounding ‘efficient’ (Kirk 1990: 204), or merely polite (Stoevesandt 2008:
114), the last lines in Paris’ speech present him as indecisive and boastful.

340 ∼ Od. 1.309, 4.587, both of host to guest (in both cases the guest is in
a hurry and refuses to stay). Cf. also 19.142 and 146–50: Achilles is
determined to return to the battlefield and refuses to sit around while his
gifts are delivered. ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε ‘but come’, a common structuring device in
direct speech; J. M. Foley 1999: 224–5. The normal expectation is that the
addressee will do as told, but in Iliad 6 the phrase is used three times to
advise Hector, and each time he refuses to comply: cf. 354n., 431n.
ἐπίμεινον: Paris, like the women of Troy, tries to delay Hector; cf. 258n.
(Hecuba); 354n. (Helen) and 431n. (Andromache); cf. also 237–41n. ἀρήϊα
τεύχεα δύω ∼ Hes. Sc. 108. The phrase ἀρήϊα τεύχεα describes weapons
that are about to be used in battle, cf., e.g., 14.381, Od. 16.284. For the
subjunctive (‘let me put on…’) see Basset 1989: 114; and Stoevesandt
2008: 114.

341 The line is an afterthought and betrays signs of improvisation, as Paris

strings together three clauses in a single verse; cf. 340–1n. ἢ ἴθ᾽ ‘or go’
(ἰέναι). The apparent hiatus is not likely to have been felt (< ἠ(ϝ)έ with
elision of epsilon). The conjunction can be monosyllabic ἤ or bisyllabic
ἤ(ϝ)ε; the manuscripts do not mark elision. κιχήσεσθαι δέ σ᾽ ὀΐω: this and
related phrases with ὀΐω express a confident prediction, rather than a simple
belief; they sometimes imply an element of threat, as at 353. Paris’ boast
here sounds grand but hollow: in the end he does catch up with Hector
(515–16n., 517–19n.), but only because Andromache has intercepted and
delayed him (393n.).
342 One of the heaviest silences in the whole poem. Like all speech-
concluding lines, it tells us something crucial about the preceding speech
and its reception, cf. 51n. Other speeches meet with a silent response,
though reasons for the silence vary from case to case, cf., e.g., 1.511–12,
3.418–20, 4.401–2, 5.689–91, 7.92–3, 8.484, 9.29–30 and 430–1, 21.478–9
and Od. 20.183–4. Readers have speculated about Hector's state of mind
here, and the scholia suggest that he has become fully aware of Helen's
influence over Paris, which is why he later tells her to send him back to the
battlefield: ΣbT ad 6.342, cf. 363n. ὣς ϕάτο: cf. 51 n.

343–58 Helen's speech is structured as a grand account of her life – from

distant, elemental origins, to the present war, to future songs. Temporal
markers articulate its main sections: 345n. (ἤματι τῶι, ὅτε), 349n. (αὐτὰρ
ἐπεί), 350n. (ἔπειτ᾽), 352n. (οὐτ᾽ ἂρ νῦν…οὐτ᾽ ἂρ ὀπίσσω), 354 (νῦν) and
357 (ὀπίσσω). Helen starts with her own birth, an event of cosmic
significance: 344–8n. She then complains about Paris and wishes she had a
better husband: 349–53n. An invitation for Hector to come in and sit down
immediately follows: 354n. Finally, she looks to the future, drawing
together the cause and purpose of the war and implicating Hector in her
own narrative. In effect, she sets up a new triangle: 358n. (πελώμεθ᾽
ἀοίδιμοι). For Helen's ability to see the war, and her own situation, from the
perspective of the poet, cf. 324n., 357–8n., and Introduction 1. For an
analysis of this speech, Introduction 4.3.

343 A common type of speech introduction (cf. 3.437, 23.794, Od.

19.252), but there is nothing routine about it here; contrast the more neutral
alternatives at 3.171, 228 and Od. 15.171. The line introduces Helen's
speech as an attempt to persuade Hector to stay: cf. 214n. and, for Hector's
reply, 360n. μύθοισι: the word is invested with authority; contrast ἔπος,
which can describe any utterance; see Martin 1989: 22–6. Telemachus
claims that ‘μῦθος is a matter for men’ at Od. 1.358; and indeed women
rarely utter μῦθοι in Homer; Helen does so more often than any other
woman in the Iliad: 3.171, and 3.427; cf. 381n. μειλιχίοισι: gentle words
(214n.) can range in tone from mild persuasion (e.g. 10.542) to
deviousness; see further Worman 2001: 27–8. The ancient variant δῖα
γυναικῶν (attested also in the scholia; cf. 3.171) may have come about as a
result of speculation about the precise tone of Helen's speech.

344–8 This is an effective opening, as it inhibits others from making Helen

feel even worse than she already does; for a similar move, cf. her speech at
3.172–6. The need to elicit sympathy at the beginning of a speech was
widely recognised as important in ancient rhetorical theory (cf. Arist. Rhet.
3.14 (1415); [Cic.] Ad Herennium 1.4–7; Quint. Inst. 4.1); Helen's speech is
a good example of what was later called insinuatio, or ‘the subtle
approach’, which was recommended when the speaker had already
disgraced himself or when his case was prejudiced in some way (cf. [Cic.]
Ad Her. 1.6–7; Quint. Inst. 4.42–50). Hector has just expressed the view
that Paris alone was responsible for the war (328–9n.); now Helen asserts
her own role in the matter and suggests that she, unlike Paris, is ready to
contemplate the magnitude of her sins (on Helen's guilt: Introduction 4.3).
She then claims that she wants to be dead and offers a grand and elaborate
vision of how she ought to have died in infancy. A gust of wind should have
blown her away: in Greek myth, girls at the point of marriage are
sometimes abducted by winds (346n.); now Helen suggests it would have
been best for her to have been taken away right on the day she was born.
The wind should have taken her to a mountain – or to the sea, where a wave
should have swept her away (cf. 347n., 348n.). The imagery recalls
Penelope's prayer at Od. 20.61–5, though Helen's emphasis on the wind, the
sea and the waves may also suggest that she should have died in the way
Aphrodite was born, cf. Hes. Theog. 188–99; and Hom. Hymn 6. Helen's
vision is inflected with wider mythical narratives concerning marriage,
abduction and love; cf. the account of her birth from Zeus and Nemesis in
Cypria, fr. 10 West. In the next section of her speech, she strikes a more
pragmatic note.

344 The first two words emphasise Helen's close relationship with Hector;
she then goes on to pile insults on herself – but this only highlights Hector's
fundamental predicament: Helen and Paris have caused the war and thus put
the lives of all the Trojans, himself included, at risk; yet at the same time
they are members of his own family, and so it pains him to see them treated
harshly or criticised, cf. 524–5n. and 24.761–75. δᾶερ ‘husband's brother’,
cf. 3.180 where Helen describes Agamemnon as her former δαήρ; the term
is more specific than Eng. ‘brother-in-law’, which can mean both
‘husband's brother’ and ‘sister's husband’. Homeric Greek also seems to
have separate terms for ‘sister of a husband’ and ‘wife of a husband's
brother’: 378n. κυνός: a common term of abuse in epic; Helen is the only
character who uses it of herself: 3.180, 356n. and Od. 4.145 (κυνώπιδος);
see further Graver 1995; and Worman 2001: 21. κακομηχάνου ‘devising
evil’; cf. ΣD ad 9.257; Od. 3.213 (κακὰ μηχανάασθαι). This punchy
adjective occurs only in direct speech, cf. 9.257 and Od. 16.418. κακός and
related words punctuate Helen's speech: 346n., 349n. and 357n.; on the
tradition of blame attached to Helen, see also Gorgias, Hel. ch. 7:
κακολογηθείη. ὀκρυοέσσης ‘dreadful’. The adjective ὀκρυόεις appears to
have developed out of κρυόεις = ‘bloody, cruel’ through wrong word
division, see Leumann 1950: 49–50. Some editors restore κακομηχάνοο
κρυοέσσης and cite 9.64 (πολέμου) ἐπιδημίου ὀκρυόεντος > ἐπιδημίοο
κρυόεντος. However, when the Homeric poems were composed, the genitive
in -oo had already been replaced with -ου, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I,
46–7; Reece 1999–2000: 198; Wachter 2000: 79–80, n. 24; cf. 61n.
(ἀδελϕειοῦ). The transmitted text should therefore stand. For comparative
evidence on wrong word division, see Lord 1974: 255; Danek 2003: 67.
The form may be modelled on the adjective ὀκριόεις meaning ‘rugged,
jagged’ (Kretschmer 1912: 308).

345 ὥς μ᾽ ὄϕελ᾽ expresses deep regret or scorn; similar phrases are frequent
in death wishes; cf., e.g., 3.40, 173, 428, 7.390, 19.59; see further
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 228–9. Helen repeatedly uses this expression in
order to negotiate her fraught position in Troy, cf. 350n. and see further
Worman 2001: 24–9. ἤματι τῶι, ὅτε: the expression singles out a crucial
moment in one's life or that of the community, e.g. 2.351–2, 8.475–6,
22.359–60. The idea that one's fate was determined at birth was widespread
in the ancient world, cf., e.g., Reallexikon der Assyriologie s.v. ‘Schicksal’
A § 5 (vol. XII, p. 149, on Mesopotamia), and esp. B § 2 (vol. XII, p. 156, on
Hittite Anatolia); for Greek epic see, e.g., 489n., 20.127–8, 23.78–9, with
Chadwick 1996: 246–7. πρῶτον: cf. 489n. τέκε μήτηρ: formulaic at the end
of the hexameter line, together with the alternative γείνατο μήτηρ. Helen
never describes Zeus as her father, though the poet does so repeatedly.
346 ∼ Od. 20.64. οἴχεσθαι προϕέρουσα: the expression οἴχομαι +
participle often refers to sudden disappearance through theft or abduction
(Létoublon 1985: 106–7; LfgrE s.v. οἰχνέω/οἴχομαι B 2 b). Helen introduces
the notion of force majeure, which dominates much of her speech. κακή
picks up κακομήχανος at 344n.: an evil wind for an evil woman. For the
hiatus after caesura (here the hephthemimeral), see 8n. θύελλα: a gust of
wind, often envisaged as a minor deity, cf. 15.26, Od.20.66 and 77 (where
Θύελλαι = ῞Αρπυιαι). θύελλαι typically snatch away women just before
marriage, cf. 20.61–78 (though see also Od. 4.727–8: Penelope imagines
that they have abducted Telemachus). On divine seizure, see further Vernant
1991: 102–3.

347 εἰς ὄρος: where unwanted babies were traditionally exposed. There is
no reference to the practice in extant epic, though later texts claim that Paris
was exposed on the mountains as a baby; cf. 280–5n. εἰς κῦμα
πολυϕλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης ‘to the waves of the loud-roaring sea’, a common
formula. Zephyr blew Aphrodite ‘on the waves of the loud-roaring sea’ all
the way to Cyprus, where she was born: Hom. Hymn 6.3–4; cf. also Hes.
Theog. 188–93.

348 ἀπόερσε ‘would have washed me away’; the verb is part of Helen's
wish, for this use of the aorist without κε; cf. 351n., Od. 1.217–18; and
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 249. The verb is rare in early Greek epic (only
here, at 21.283 and 21.329), and ancient readers debated its meaning (e.g.
ΣD ad 6.348 ‘drown’; Nic. Ther. 110, ‘remove’). The etymology is unclear,
though the verb seems to refer specifically to obliteration through water, cf.
LfgrE s.v. ἀποέρσαι E and B. πάρος τάδε ἔργα γενέσθαι: τάδε ἔργα is
deliberately vague: the scholia bT ad 6.348c suggest that Hector may not
want to be reminded of the details; for similar expressions, see Od. 22.49,
24.455. Epic poetry typically glorified the ‘deeds’ (ἔργα) of gods and men
(cf., e.g., Od. 1.338); Helen goes on to describe the deeds she mentions here
as the subject of future song: 357–8n.

349–53 Helen now resigns herself to the situation and blames the gods; cf.
3.164–5; Gorgias Hel. 6; and Eur. Tr. 948–50. An appraisal of her present
situation leads Helen to wish for a better husband. The focus is now firmly
on her own feelings, as opposed to any pain inflicted on others. For Helen's
seductive stance towards Hector, see Introduction 4.3.

349 αὐτὰρ ἐπεί: the cluster of particles marks a change of tone, cf. 178n.
ἐπεί articulates the chronology of Helen's account (343–58n.) but also turns
chronology into argument; cf. 350n. (ἔπειτ᾽). τάδε…κακά takes up τάδε
ἔργα (348n.). κακός and related terms recur in Helen's speech and express
her concern with apportioning blame; cf. 344n. γ᾽ casually ascribes Helen's
predicament to divine causes; she then goes on to claim that there is no
excuse for Paris’ behaviour. τεκμήραντο ‘they decreed’ (cf. τέκμωρ = ‘goal’,
‘boundary’). Often used of decisions made by the gods or their agents that
have a negative effect on mortals: cf., e.g., 7.69–70, Od. 10.563.

350 ἀνδρὸς…ἀμείνονος: a striking case of hyperbaton. At 3.428–36 Helen

told Paris that Menelaos was the better husband. Now, however, she is
envisaging a better husband in Troy: she seems to have in mind someone
like Hector, cf. Arthur Katz 1981: 29. ἔπειτ᾽: for Helen's use of temporal
markers, see 343–58n.; ἔπειτα has a causal or consecutive inflection here:
‘Given that the gods decreed these bad things for me, then at least I wish I
had a better husband.’ ὤϕελλον takes up 345n. (ὥς μ᾽ ὄϕελ᾽), but in the first
person: Helen is now thinking about what she wants and needs, rather than
what might have been best for others. ἄκοιτις ‘partner’, ‘wife’, as opposed
to concubine, παλλακίς, cf. 9.449–50. The term is sometimes treated as
synonymous with ἄλοχος but generally places greater emphasis on the
personal relationship between two partners; see Gates 1971: 18. ἄλοχος
(especially when coupled with the epithets κουριδίη and μνηστή, which are
never used of ἄκοιτις) points to marriage as an institution; cf. 337n.

351 ὃς ἤιδη…ἀνθρώπων: for similar expressions with οἶδα = ‘know, be

aware of’, cf. LfgrE s.v. οἶδα B 2 a δ. The description fits Hector very well;
cf. 343–58n., 354–6n., 524–5n. ἤιδη: the unfulfilled wish continues in the
past tense indicative. The second example of this rare construction in only
four lines reflects the tortured and regretful tone of Helen's speech; cf.
348n. (ἀπόερσε). For the possibility that early texts read (ϝ)εἴδη, without
augment, see M. L. West 1998–2000: vol. I, XXXIII. νέμεσιν ‘blame’,
‘retribution’, a crucial mechanism of social justice in Homeric society, cf.
Cairns 1993: 51–4; Redfield 1994: 113–17; Yamagata 1994: 149–58. In
some accounts Helen is the daughter of Nemesis: cf. Cypria, fr. 10 West;
and see further Clader 1976: 18–23 with nn. 30–1; Austin 1994: 43, 46; and
Worman 2001: 21–30. Paris’ own statement at 335n. suggests that he does
not understand νέμεσις. αἴσχεα ‘can refer both to the state considered
disgraceful and the reaction of others to that state’: Cairns 1993: 55; cf.
209n. (αἰσχυνέμεν), 325 (αἰσχροῖς) and 524 (αἴσχε᾽). Helen herself is said to
have ‘shamed’ (ἤισχυνε) Menelaos’ bed at Hes. fr. 176.7 MW and claims
she is in disgrace at Il. 3.242. Austin 1994: ch. 1 discusses Helen's
paradoxical connection with disgrace and ugliness. ἀνθρώπων: in the pl.,
often used to reflect on human life in general.

352 τούτωι: a put-down. Helen speaks about Paris in the third person;
Hector will do so too, in his reply to her: 363n.; see also Lohmann 1970:
101–2. οὐτ᾽ ἂρ νῦν…οὐτ᾽ ἂρ ὀπίσσω: ‘neither now…nor in the future’. Paris
is beyond redemption. On temporal markers and the structure of Helen's
speech, cf. 343–58n. ἂρ…ἄρ: the repeated particle presents the verdict as a
realisation, rather than a simple statement on Helen's part. ϕρένες ἔμπεδοι:
cf. Od. 10.493 and 18.215; the adjective is also used of νόος (11.813),
though it is more frequent with βίη, ‘might’ and ἴς, ‘strength’. Lack of
mental strength is an issue with Paris, cf. 3.45; Sullivan 1988: 54–5.

353 Helen invites Hector to give up on his brother (‘he will get what he
deserves’); her prediction is phrased as a threat to Paris. τῶ ‘therefore’ (he
will reap the consequences). Helen's words are harshly judgemental,
emphasising the necessary consequences of Paris’ attitude; cf. Od. 22.317
and 416 (τῶ καί), and contrast Andromache's positive assessment of Hector
at Il. 24.740 (τῶ καί μιν), Briseis of Patroclus at 19.300 (τῶ), Helen of
Hector at 24.773 (τῶ) and Agamemnon's words about the ϕρένες of
Penelope at Od. 24.194–8 (τῶ, 196). West adopts the conjecture τοῦ (< TŌ,
with wrong transcription from the Attic alphabet, but cf. 291n. ἐπιπλώς),
because ἐπαυρίσκω takes the genitive. The genitive object can, however,
remain implicit (Od. 17.81), and τοῦ as a way of referring to verses 352–3
is rhetorically and syntactically difficult, for three reasons. (1) It breaks the
line of personal pronouns which set up a contrast between Hector and Paris
(ὃς…τούτωι…μιν). (2) It refers to a complex verbal clause, which is
unparalleled with ἐπαυρίσκω. (At 13.732–3, τοῦ ∼ νόον ἐσθλόν.) (3) Its
significance remains unclear until later in the sentence, resulting in a
rhetorical weakness at the heart of Helen's speech. The transmitted text
should stand: its syntactical harshness is appropriate to the harshness of
Helen's views; cf. some of Hector's more tortured remarks about Paris: 280–
5n., 281–2n., 285n. καί: the well-attested alternative reading κεν seems
grammatically difficult (even if taken with the fut. inf.; cf. Chantraine
1948–53: vol. II, 311) and would introduce a note of uncertainty. Pace van
der Valk 1963–4: vol. II, 109, Helen is not known to spare Paris (cf. 3.427–
36), and the blunter καί seems in keeping with the rest of her speech.
ἐπαυρήσεσθαι: the verb is used of reaping both positive and negative
consequences; cf. 1.410, 13.733.

354–6 Now Helen turns her attention to Hector and delivers her central
plea. She invites him to approach her; see Introduction 4.3. She
acknowledges that Hector is weighed down by worry and responsibility
(just the kind of trait she would welcome in a husband: 351n.) and states
that he is fighting on her behalf and because of Paris’ folly: this creates a
sense of intimacy. For all that Helen distances herself from Paris, she
actually reinforces his previous attempt to make Hector stay: 340n.
(ἐπίμεινον).

354 Cf. Hecuba's central plea that Hector ‘wait’ while she gets some wine
for him: ἀλλὰ μέν᾽, 258n. ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν εἴσελθε = Od. 16.25. Hector evidently
stopped near the door when addressing Paris; cf. Lateiner 2005: 419. ἕζεο:
potentially seductive, cf. 3.406 (Helen tells Aphrodite she should sit with
Paris herself), and Od. 10.314–15 (Circe offers Odysseus a seat before
attempting to bewitch him); cf. also Hector's reply: μή με κάθιζ᾽, Ἑλένη,
ϕιλέουσά περ…360. For further discussion, see Arthur Katz 1981: 29. τῶιδ᾽
ἐπὶ δίϕρωι: Helen shows Hector precisely where he should sit; the deictic
τῶιδε suggests that the chair or stool (Laser 1968: 36–9) is close to her. The
scene parallels 3.424–6, where Aphrodite makes Helen sit on a δίϕρος
opposite Paris – that situation quickly leads to their love-making.

355 δᾶερ: an intimate word, cf. 344n. σε…ϕρένας ἀμϕιβέβηκεν ∼ Od.

8.541. Helen echoes Hector's own words (cf. ἀμϕιδέδηε, 328–9n.) but turns
the plight of the city into Hector's personal affliction. ἀμϕιβέβηκεν governs
accusatives of the person (σε), and the part of the body (ϕρένας); cf. 9n.
(ἔβαλε). For πόνος see 77n., 525n.

356 The line marks a sudden change in register: Helen's personal plea
gives way to the resonant patterns of the epic tradition: Helen the bitch,
Paris and his blind folly. This change leads on to Helen's closing remarks on
future song. εἵνεκ᾽ ἐμεῖο κυνός ∼ 344n. (ring composition). Helen is not
simply trying to pre-empt Hector's criticism (thus ΣbT ad 6.356), but also to
assert her own central role in the war, and hence in Hector's life (he, by
contrast, focused exclusively on Paris: 328–9n.). καὶ Ἀλεξάνδρου ἕνεκ᾽ ἄτης
∼ 3.100, 24.28: both ἄτης (‘blind folly’, and the ‘ruin’ that results from it)
and ἀρχῆς (‘beginning’) are attested in all three passages, though there is
always a clear preference (for ἀρχῆς at 3.100; for ἄτης here and at 24.28).
ἄτης suits the present context because it emphasises retribution: unlike
ἀρχή, ἄτη can be sent by the gods and is sometimes represented as a deity
in her own right (e.g. 9.504–12, 19.91–4); it tends to be invoked by
characters in direct speech, see Hershkowitz 1998: 128–32; Mülke 2002:
261–5, with further passages and bibliography.

357–8 A famous passage, where Helen adopts the perspective of the poet;
cf. Od. 8.579–80: τὸν [sc. Ἰλίου οἶτον] δὲ θεοὶ μὲν τεῦξαν, ἐπεκλώσαντο δ᾽
ὄλεθρον || ἀνθρώποις, ἵνα ἦισι καὶ ἐσσομένοισιν ἀοιδή; see also Od. 24.196–
202; and Hom. Hymn 3.299. The scholia bT ad 6.358 comment: ‘she subtly
aggrandizes the poem’, thus remarking on the effectiveness of Helen as a
metapoetic figure. Many readers have commented on Helen's position at the
centre of the war, and on her detachment as its observer, see, e.g., Clader
1976: ch. 1; Pantelia 2002; and esp. Taplin 1992: 96–103, who compares
her to the poet, and also discusses 3.125–8, where Helen weaves a robe
depicting the war fought on her behalf; see 324n. with further bibliography.
Although Helen is able to view the war, and her own plight, from the
perspective of future epic audiences, she has an immediate purpose:
Introduction 1 and 4.3. Hector too is very much concerned with his future
fame (cf., e.g., 446n. and 7.81–91); but at this point in time he sees his
imminent death as a reason to focus on Andromache's plight, rather than
Helen's: 367–8n., cf. 450–3n. and 454–63n.
357 Ζεύς: after mentioning the gods in general (349n.), Helen now singles
out Zeus as the cause of the war, cf. 14.85–7 and ‘the plan of Zeus’ at 1.5,
with Cypria, fr. 1 West; and Hes. fr. 204.96ff. MW. Her perspective is close
to that of the poet, see also Od. 1.346–9 (Zeus causes events; the bard
memorialises them), and Introduction 1. κακὸν μόρον: a rare and powerful
expression, describing an especially cruel fate (cf. 21.133, Od. 1.166,
11.618). For μόρος = ‘fate of death’, see LfgrE s.v. B. This is the only
passage in Homer where the word is used of a woman's fate: Helen
considers her destiny as grand and significant as that of the heroes. In the
context of her speech, the expression κακὸν μόρον resonates with Helen's
emphasis on ‘evil’ in her own life, cf. 344n. (κακομηχάνου), 346n. (κακή),
349n. (τάδε…κακά). ὡς ‘so that’ (purpose clause).

358 ἀνθρώποισι…ἐσσομένοισι: Helen is one of the few characters who is

able to see her own existence through the eyes of future epic audiences;
Hector is another: 22.304–5. πελώμεθ᾽ ἀοίδιμοι ‘so that we become worthy
of song’ rather than simply ‘the subject of song’. At 357 οἷσιν refers to
Helen and Paris alone; but the speech is addressed to Hector, and
concluding remarks often include both speaker and addressee in a final first
person address: cf. 58n. Hector too will certainly be the subject of song, so
it is difficult to exclude him from Helen's last remarks. By using the term
ἀοίδιμος, Helen sidesteps the issue of blame; contrast Od. 24.200 (στυγερὴ
ἀοιδή), 201 (χαλεπὴ ϕῆμις); Hes. fr. 176.2 MW (κακὴ ϕήμη). Helen's
mention of future song is likely to flatter Hector: Martin 1989: 136–7; and
Murnaghan 1999: 213–14.

359–68 The structure of Hector's speech mirrors the main points made by
Helen: she expressed her wish for a better husband (350n., 351n.); he now
talks about his men's longing for him (362n.). She claimed that Paris was
beyond hope (353n.); he urges her to tell him to return to the battlefield
(363n.). She invited him to join her in her own bedroom (354–6n.); he
claims he must go and see his own wife (366n.). She imagined herself, Paris
and, by implication, Hector as future subjects of song (357–8n.); he
envisages his own death and makes it a priority to see his wife and child
(367–8n.). This is the only time Hector addresses Helen in the course of the
Iliad. When lamenting Hector at the end of the poem, Helen claims that he
was always gentle to her and defended her when she was blamed (24.767–
72); what we see here is polite disengagement. For Hector's reasonable tone
(γάρ at 361, 365 and 367), see Introduction 2.4. On the speech, see further
Lohmann 1970: 101; and Introduction 4.3. For a comparison with other
speeches that decline an invitation, Minchin 2001 and 2007: ch. 2, esp. pp.
62–3.

359 = 263n. The traditional line presents Hector's speech as more neutral in
tone than his speech to Paris (325n.), and Helen's speech to him (343n.).

360 ∼ 18.126 (Achilles to Thetis). μή με κάθιζ᾽: Hector refuses to ‘be sat

down’ (καθίζω). Warriors engaged in a war should not spend their time
sitting down: cf. 336n. and 354n. Ἑλένη: Hector's address is polite rather
than intimate; contrast Priam's ϕίλον τέκος at 3.162; and Helen's own δᾶερ
ἐμεῖο κυνός (344n.) and δᾶερ (355n.). ϕιλέουσά περ: ϕιλέω can describe
affection between sexual partners (cf. 9.340–3) but need not have sexual
connotations: at 18.126 ϕιλέουσά περ is used of Thetis’ concern for her son;
cf. also 1.196 = 209 (of Hera's feelings for Achilles and Agamemnon).
Helen's feelings for Hector feature prominently at the very end of the poem:
in her funeral lament for Hector she claims that he was ‘by far the dearest
(πολὺ ϕίλτατε) of all her brothers-in-law’ (24.762), and in the last line of
her speech she claims that he was her only ϕίλος, and that everybody else
hates her (24.775). For concessive περ see 85n. οὐδέ με πείσεις = 11.648,
18.126, etc. The expression is often used in contexts when somebody
refuses to be held back.

361 Throughout his mission inside the city, Hector is very aware that the
Trojan troops need him on the battlefield: Introduction 4. ἤδη γάρ: ἤδη
conveys Hector's urgency and γάρ offers the first of several explanations:
cf. 359–68n.; Introduction 2.4. θυμός: contrast 256n.; see also 444n.
ἐπέσσυται ‘is eager’ (perfect tense), continuing the theme of urgent action
that runs through the book; cf. 296n., 390n., 505n., 518n., 7.1.

362 Τρώεσσ᾽: emphatically at the beginning of the line, in necessary

enjambment. The Trojan soldiers on the battlefield are Hector's priority:
their longing for him is more important than Helen's invitation; see Van
Nortwick 2001: 233. οἳ…ἔχουσιν: Hector's assessment is borne out in the
Trojans’ relief when they see him: 7.4–7. ποθήν: soldiers often ‘long’ for
their absent leaders (ποθέω, ποθή); cf., e.g., 1.240, 11.471. Contrast Paris’
‘desire’ for Helen (ἔρως, ἵμερος), which keeps him away from the
battlefield: 3.442–6.

363 Now that Hector has established his priorities, he tells Helen what she
can do to help him. His request is humiliating for Paris (a man should not
need his wife to tell him to fight); but it is also problematic for Hector, for
he should not need to enlist Helen's help. The scholia try to excuse him: ‘He
did not think it appropriate to talk to Paris directly, since Paris had entrusted
everything to his wife’ (ΣbT ad 6.363). The situation between Helen and
Paris is now exposed in all its difficulty: at 3.421–47 the poet described
how they met in their bedroom, complained about one another and made
love; Paris himself revealed that Helen had already told him to return to the
battlefield (337–9n.). ἀλλά: Hector takes control, cf. his previous attempt to
impose his will at 331n. (ἀλλ᾽ ἄνα); then Paris’ request for time at 340n.;
and Helen's invitation to sit down at 354n. σύ γ᾽ emphasises that Helen can
do something and prepares for line 365, καὶ γὰρ ἐγών. ὄρνυθι ‘encourage,
incite’; the verb is often used of gods but is not as striking as ὥρμησ᾽ at
338n. τοῦτον echoes Helen's τούτωι at 352n. ἐπειγέσθω δὲ καὶ αὐτός: cf.
338n., where Paris admitted to taking his cue from Helen. Note Hector's
emphasis on speed: the verb is used specifically in contexts where there is
outside pressure; cf. 85n. (ἀναγκαίη γὰρ ἐπείγει) and 388n. (ἐπειγομένη).
Paris draws attention to his own speed when he joins Hector at the end of
the book: 517–19n.

364 Paris should catch up with Hector while he is still in the city, so that
they join the army together (cf. 7.1–7 and especially the duals at 7.7).
Hector wants to ensure that Paris really does leave his bedroom and knows
that their joint appearance will boost troop morale; but his insistence that he
should join him before he leaves the city also enables Hector to introduce
and justify a new plan: that of visiting his own family while Paris gets
ready. ὥς κεν introduces a final clause with verb in the subjunctive; on this
construction see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 270.
365 The second γάρ-clause explains how Hector plans to ensure that Paris
catches up with him but also introduces a new idea; see below (καὶ γὰρ
ἐγών). Helenos had warned Hector about the dangers of ‘falling into the
hands of the women’ (81–2n.), so his plan carries some risk of delay and
criticism; but the context suggests that it is reasonable for Hector to look for
his wife. καὶ γὰρ ἐγών ‘and I, for my part, will go home’. καί in
combination with γάρ suggests something more than a straightforward
explanation: in fact, Hector introduces a new idea; for γάρ cf. 15n.; for
further discussion of καὶ γάρ, see Stoevesandt 2008: 120. οἶκόνδ᾽
ἐσελεύσομαι combines two ideas: that of going home and that of entering the
house (for a similarly complex construction, cf. 86n.). οἶκόνδε expresses the
idea of home (cf. formulaic οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι), while εἰς οἶκον refers primarily
to a building (490n.) and can be used of somebody else's house (Od. 2.52
etc.).

366 Hector first mentions his home (οἶκόνδε), then the people who work
there (οἰκῆας), then his dear wife and young child. When talking to the men
on the battlefield he told them upfront that he was going to see ‘our wives’,
cf. 114n. (ἡμετέρηις ἀλόχοισι); now he is more reticent. When talking to
Helen, Hector is keen to present himself as somebody in charge of a
household, rather than as a husband who cannot keep away from his wife.
His future encounters follow the order outlined here: first he meets the
servants, then his wife and child. οἰκῆας: the word seems to be a rather
vague term for people who belong to the household; cf. 5.413 (of a widow
wailing through the night and keeping the οἰκῆες awake: the word must refer
to all those who sleep in the house, though she may be living only with
servants); see further LfgrE s.v. οἰκεύς B. ΣΑ ad 6.366 gloss οἰκῆας as
‘servants’; ΣbT ad 6.365–6 suggest the more inclusive ‘everyone in the
house’. The debate has left traces elsewhere in the Homeric scholia; cf.
Erbse 1969–88: vol. II, 194. For sigma closing the final syllable of οἰκῆας,
see 76n. (Ἕλενος). ἄλοχόν τε ϕίλην καὶ νήπιον υἱόν ∼ 5.480, 688. Helen,
though affectionate (ϕιλέουσά περ: 360n.), is not Hector's ‘dear wife’. For
ϕίλος in Homer, see 67n.; on ἄλοχος, see 337n. Andromache is first
mentioned by name at 371n., cf. Hecuba, who is first introduced as ‘our
mother’ (87n.) and is only later mentioned by name (293n.). A baby son
completes the family; cf. 5.480 (Sarpedon on his wife and baby son). Helen
and Paris, by contrast, have no children; and Helen, most beautiful of
women, only managed to give birth to one baby daughter, Hermione, with
Menelaos; cf. 3.175, Od. 4.12–14; and Hes. fr. 204.94–5 MW.

367–8 A third and last γάρ-clause explains why Hector wants to see his
own family; for a similar statement about the future, cf. Od. 18.265–6. A
series of adverbs ἔτι…αὖτις…ἤδη conveys Hector's perception that time is
running out; cf. Broccia 1956/7: 174. The passage responds to 357–8n.,
where Helen contemplated the future from the perspective of epic
audiences: Hector, by contrast, envisages his own death from the
perspective of those closest to him. These lines look forward to the
encounter between Hector and Andromache and form a ring with 501–2n.

367 οὐ γάρ τ᾽ οἶδ᾽ ∼ Od. 10.190, 17.78. At 447–9n. Hector admits he

knows that Troy will fall; and later he contemplates his own death in the
light of that knowledge. τ᾽: epic τε usually marks a generalisation or a
timeless truth (cf. 127n., 147n.); this does not seem to be the case here, but
Hector uses the particle rhetorically, in order to express his (and indeed any
warrior's) constant state of uncertainty about the future; see Ruijgh 1971:
737, who discusses this and other examples of rhetorical γάρ τε in direct
speech. For ancient attempts to dispense with τε see app. crit. ἔτι: cf. 367–
8n., 500n. σϕιν ‘for them’; the dative emphasises Hector's concern; cf.
203n. ὑπότροπος ‘returning home’; in the Iliad only here and at 501n., but
cf. Od. 20.332, 21.211 and 22.35 (where it contrasts with Odysseus’
defining epithet πολύτροπος, ‘of many turns’); and Hom. Hymn 3.476. The
adjective underlines the distance between the battlefield and home. ἵξομαι:
future of ἱκάνω/ἱκνέομαι/ἱκέσθαι/ἵκω (classical ἀϕικνέομαι). αὖτις: cf. 367–
8n.

368 ἤ: for the apparent hiatus see 341n. (ἢ ἴθ᾽). ἤδη: cf. 361n. and 367–8n.
Hector's urgency throughout his visit to Troy is transmuted into a sense of
impending doom. ὑπὸ χερσὶ…Ἀχαιῶν: Hector takes up what Helen says
about divine power (349n. and 357n.) but gives it a different emphasis: she
sounded a note of acceptance, and even relief at the limitations of her own
power; Hector feels the tragedy of his own death, because he thinks of the
people who love him. δαμόωσιν: contracted future of δάμνημι, ‘subdue,
kill’: δαμάσουσιν > δαμάουσιν > δαμῶσιν > δαμόωσιν, with diectasis; cf.
148n. (τηλεθόωσα). For this and similar uses of the verb, see LfgrE s.v.
δάμνημι, δαμνά(ω), δαμνάζω B II 2 d.

369–502: The Encounter between Hector and Andromache

369–91 Hector's disappointment at not finding Andromache is palpable in

the simple οὐδ᾽ εὗρ᾽ placed at the beginning of the line (371n.); the poet then
tells us where she is (372–3n.), while Hector looks for her inside. Then, as
he is about to leave, he stops at the threshold and asks the maids where she
has gone (375n.). His words, here as elsewhere, show that he has only
limited knowledge of how the women live and move inside the city; cf.
374–80n.; and Introduction 3.2. It is the housekeeper's answer that reveals
to him a fundamental connection between his own actions and
Andromache's: while he is looking for her at home, she is on the city
rampart, hoping to see him on the battlefield (381–9n.); see further
Schadewaldt 1997: 131–2. Both Hector and Andromache act out of a sense
of foreboding, and both feel the urgent need to see one another: he leaves
the house at speed (390n.), and she later runs towards him (394n.). This
transitional section before their encounter is unusually long and complex; it
builds up the narrative tension and plays with the possibility that Hector and
Andromache may fail to meet. For the parallels between this scene and
Andromache's realisation that Hector is dead (22.437–72), see Segal 1971b;
and Grethlein 2006a: 245–53. See also Broccia 1956/7.

369 = 116n. Hector loses no time in implementing his decision to leave. In

contrast with 116, the poet now stays with Hector and follows him on his
progress home.

370 = 497n.; cf. 514n. (αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειτα). Hector is as ever conscious that he
needs to be quick, Introduction 4. αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειθ᾽ emphasises speed; contrast
the more common αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα; cf. LfgrE s.v. αἶψα B A I. ἵκανε: cf. 367n.
In contrast with 391n., the journey is quickly over. The shock of not finding
Andromache at home is the greater for it: 371n. δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας: a
standard phrase (cf., e.g., 11.769, Od. 17.28); contrast the elaborate
descriptions of Priam's solid stone place (242–52n.) and Paris’ luxurious
abode (312–17n.). For the form ναιετάοντας (ναιετάω < ναίω), cf. 268n.
(εὐχετάασθαι).

371 οὐδ᾽ εὗρ᾽: an alarming revelation. Hector later tells Andromache to

return home and attend to her normal duties (485–93n.); ancient readers
found her absence from home remarkable, cf. Eur. Tro. 647–50, with
Introduction 5. Ἀνδρομάχην: this is the first time Andromache is mentioned
by name; on the etymology of her name, see Neumann 1991: 316. The poet
does not pun on it overtly (though see 492–3n., with Wathelet 1988: 282).
Some ancient readers found her name significant: Introduction 5. We hear
more about her life at 414–28n. λευκώλενον: paleness was an important
aspect of female beauty (e.g. Od. 18.196); cf. Thomas 2002. White arms are
singled out because other parts of the female body were not generally
exposed to public view. The epithet is used of Andromache (cf. 377n. and
24.723) and of several other characters, including domestic servants, but it
is especially associated with Hera, the Olympian wife: 1.55 etc. ἐν
μεγάροισιν: formulaic at the end of the line. ‘Hall(s)’ or simply ‘dwelling’,
‘house’, esp. when used in the plural, cf. LfgrE s.v. μέγαρον B 3; Rougier-
Blanc 2005: ch. 3; see also 91n., together with 286–7n. and 288n. Paris and
Helen were in their θάλαμος when Hector met them (321–2n.).

372–3 While Hector looks, the poet explains Andromache's absence; as

often, the audience know more about the situation than the characters inside
the poem; cf. 374–80n.

372 ἀλλ᾽ ἥ γε ‘but she, for her part, had gone’. γε draws attention to the
poet's knowledge of the situation, cf. 16–17n. ξὺν παιδί: at 366n. Hector
said that he wanted to see his son; now we discover that Andromache has
taken him away with her. The baby will feature prominently in the ensuing
encounter: 400–3n., 466–81n., esp. 471n. καὶ ἀμϕιπόλωι ἐϋπέπλωι: women
do not leave the house on their own, cf. 3.142–4 and esp. 22.460–1
(Andromache leaves in a frenzy, while her maids follow her). Hector and
Andromache meet as a family, complete with offspring and a servant; even
though their meeting is later recast as a romantic encounter: 515–16n.; see
further Introduction 4.4 and 5. ἀμϕιπόλωι ἐϋπέπλωι (only here) is a
variation on ἀμϕιπόλοισιν ἐϋπλοκάμοις at 22.442 and Od. 6.198; cf. Od.
6.222. It suits the context of the scene: the maid's peplos and its folds will
feature later (400n., 467n.).

373 ∼ 23.106 (of the shade of the dead Patroclus, which is likewise said to
be ‘lamenting and wailing’). Andromache fears that Hector may be dead;
cf. his own words: 367–8n. Later, at 22.460–7, she again leaves home in a
frenzy of fear and anxiety – and discovers that Hector is dead. πύργωι: the
rampart or bastion near or above the Scaean Gates. The word can be used
quite generally of any bastion, or the city wall in its entirety (cf. Od. 6.262–
3; LfgrE s.v. πύργος B); but in the Iliad the Trojans often view the
battlefield from a bastion at the Scaean Gates: Priam and Helen watch the
troops from that vantage point (3.145, 149 and 153–4), as does Priam when
he sees Achilles approaching (21.526–37) and Hector waiting for him
(22.5–6 and 25–36). Hector's later prediction that Achilles will die in front
of the Scaean Gates (22.360) envisages him dying in full view of the
Trojans – who are at this point in the narrative witnessing Hector's own
death. At 22.447 Andromache hears a great commotion ‘from the bastion’
(ἀπὸ πύργου) and fears that the Trojans might have seen Hector die.
Theano prays that Diomedes die in front of the Scaean Gates: 306–7n.
ἐϕεστήκει: pluperfect intransitive, ‘she stood upon’. γοόωσά τε μυρομένη τε:
the two verbs have similar meaning and often occur together. γοάω is the
act of mourning someone by delivering a funerary lament (cf. 499n.: γόον);
μύρομαι refers to wailing in a more physical sense, see LfgrE s.v. μύρομαι.
For the combination of a more abstract word with one that appeals directly
to the senses, cf. 328–9n.

374–80 Hector is about to leave but stops at the threshold and calls back to
the servants. He is conscious he must return immediately to the battlefield
but still wants to know where Andromache is: his question betrays his
anxiety at not finding her, though his tone is exceptionally calm, even
stilted (Kirk 1990: 208). Hector suggests two possible explanations for
Andromache's absence: 378n. and 379–80n. Both involve the company of
other women in an enclosed space; cf. ΣbT ad 6.378a; and Introduction 4.4.
374 The line recalls Od. 13.42–3 (Odysseus expects to find blameless
Penelope at home with her maids); cf. also Od. 15.14–15 (Athena urges
Telemachus to return to Ithaca while his blameless mother is still at home).
ἀμύμονα…ἄκοιτιν: the epithet is commonly found in the phrase γυναῖκα(ς)
ἀμύμονα ἔργ᾽ εἰδυίας/-υῖαν, but it does not usually qualify female personal
names (Od. 24.194, in direct speech, and Hes. fr. 26.7 MW are exceptions)
and is rare with ἄλοχος or ἄκοιτις (otherwise only at Od. 13.42, in direct
speech). Here it may reflect Hector's point of view (‘embedded
focalisation’): he sees Andromache as ‘blameless’. On the meaning of
ἀμύμων, see 22n. τέτμεν: Hector did not ‘find’ or ‘meet’ Andromache; the
verb is always used of people, cf. 515. The form τέτμεν is a reduplicated,
athematic aorist of a stem *tem- of uncertain etymology; cf. Chantraine
1999 s.v. τετμεῖν.

375 The line introduces Hector's speech as an afterthought. ἔστη ἐπ᾽ οὐδὸν
ἰών ∼ Od. 20.128, 21.124, 149, 24.178, 493. ‘He stepped onto the threshold
and stood.’ The phrase is almost always used of somebody coming from
inside the house, as must be the case here: Hector has been looking for
Andromache ἐν μεγάροισιν (371n.). For the participle construction, cf., e.g.,
7.303–4 (δῶκε…ϕέρων), and see further Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 319–
20. οὐδόν: probably the threshold of Hector's house, though some readers
(e.g. Stoevesandt 2008: 124) argue that it is the threshold to the women's
quarters. Hector's question is presented as a last-minute request for
information; he then immediately speeds away: 390n. Thresholds are
significant places, especially for masters and potential masters of the house:
Od. 21.124; cf. 149, and Od. 22.2; see also Od. 24.178. δμωιῆισιν: cf. 323n.;
Hector addresses female servants specifically; no male servants (δμῶες) are
mentioned in the Iliad – in this time of war, the city is the domain of
women.

376 A request for accurate information. This kind of request is rare in the
Iliad, though it features repeatedly in the Odyssey; it often betrays some
anxiety on the part of the speaker, as s/he braces herself/himself for an
uncomfortable truth (cf. 24.407–9, Od. 23.35–8, etc.; Hom. Hymn 2.71–3).
εἰ δ᾽ ἄγε: cf. ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε (340n., 354), but without the contrast which that
expression implies; see further Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 274. Though
ἄγετε is attested (22.381), ἄγε can be used when addressing more than one
person (cf., e.g., 1.62). The particle δέ is formulaic in this phrase, also at the
beginning of direct speech; cf. 16.667, Od. 12.112, 23.45. For δέ
introducing direct speech see also 123n. and 479n. δμωιαί: cf. 323n.
νημερτέα μυθήσασθε ∼ Hom. Hymn 2.294; a request for a straightforward
answer, which ‘does not miss the mark’ (νημερτής < νη- + ἁμαρτάνω); cf.
similar expressions at Il. 6.382, Od. 14.125, etc.; and 343n. (μύθοισι).

377 Hector's language is very similar to that of the poet at 371n., though in
his mouth it sounds more ponderous; on Hector's tone: 374–80n. For similar
formulations, cf. Od. 18.198 and 19.60, with M. Parry 1971: 98.
Ἀνδρομάχη: 371n. πῆι: cf. 378n. (πηι). λευκώλενος: 371n. ΣbT ad 6.377
observe that the epithet fits the language of the poet rather than that of his
characters. μεγάροιο: cf. 371n. (ἐν μεγάροισιν).

378 ∼ 24.769. Hector's first suggestion is that Andromache's absence fits

the normal peacetime routine of visits among female relatives. πηι
(shortened before vowel) picks up πῆι at 377. Hector wants to qualify his
initial question by suggesting two specific destinations for Andromache. ἐς
γαλόων ἢ εἰνατέρων ἐϋπέπλων: i.e. to their homes. γαλόως is the sister of
one's husband, cf. 3.122 (e.g. Laodike is Helen's and, indeed, Andromache's
γαλόως); εἰνατέρες are the wives of a husband's brothers, i.e., as ΣD ad
6.378 point out, ‘what Helen and Andromache are to each other’. Homeric
terms of kinship are often more precise than their English equivalents; see
also 344n. (δᾶερ). For ἐΰπεπλος, cf. 372n.

379–80 Hector's second suggestion acknowledges that Andromache's

absence may be linked to the extreme danger the Trojans are facing but
assumes that she is responding to the instructions he gave to Hecuba, and
thus contributing to the coordinated effort recommended by Helenos at 77–
101n. Hector is out of touch: the audience know that Andromache has
actually run to the rampart in a frenzy of anxiety (372–3n.) – and they also
know that the women's attempt to appease Athena fails (311n.). This is the
last time the ritual is mentioned in the Iliad. Against the backdrop of the
women's communal action, Andromache seems isolated and vulnerable; cf.
425–8n., 429–30n., with Van Nortwick 2001: 226.
379 ἤ: for the apparent hiatus see 341n. (ἢ ἴθ᾽). ἐς Ἀθηναίης: cf. 378n. (ἐς
γαλόων ἢ εἰνατέρων ἐϋπέπλων). ἐξοίχεται ‘has gone out’. Τhe present tense
is used like a perfect, as often with forms of οἴχομαι; cf. LfgrE s.v. οἰχνέω,
οἴχομαι B II 4. ἔνθά περ ἄλλαι: Hector's phrasing is defensive; note the use
of περ (cf. 41n.). The expression follows a standard pattern at the end of a
line, cf. ἔνθά περ ἄλλοι, πὰρ δέ οἱ ἄλλοι, αὐτὰρ οἱ ἄλλοι, etc. in the same
position. On the accentuation, see 251n.

380 Τρωιαὶ ἐϋπλόκαμοι: only here and at 385. The epithet is relatively rare
in the Iliad, though cf. 22.442 and 449 (of Andromache's maidservants). It
seems to characterise younger women and so helps Hector express the
thought that maybe Andromache has joined the γεραιαί who went to pray to
Athena (87n.). δεινὴν θεόν: a common description of Athena. Here it seems
particularly appropriate, cf. 5.839 and 738–42; 311n.); but Hector's
language also fits traditional prayers to Athena, cf. Hom. Hymn 11.2 (to
Athena). ἱλάσκονται: the technical term for securing divine favour either
through sacrifice (e.g. 1.147, 444) or by some other means (e.g. song:
1.472, cf., e.g., Hom. Hymns 1 D 8 West, 3.165, 19.48). In epic, attempts to
secure divine favour (ἱλάσκεσθαι) are usually successful (Od. 21.364–5 is an
exception): Hector's use of this verb thus highlights his misplaced hope that
his mission might succeed.

381–9 This is the only mention of Hector's and Andromache's housekeeper

in the Iliad. Other housekeepers (esp. Eurycleia: Od. 2.344–7, etc.; cf. Hom.
Hymn 2.103–4) have a close relationship with their masters, and this seems
to be the case here too: the trusted housekeeper not only knows where
Andromache is but can also describe how she broke down at the news that
the Achaeans were crushing the Trojans. Her speech is introduced as a
truthful answer to Hector's questions (381n., 382n.) and falls into two parts:
first it deals with his guesses (383–5n.) and then reveals what has actually
happened (386–9). As the speech unfolds, Hector's expectations are
shattered, until he is confronted with the truth that Andromache left home
‘looking like a madwoman’ (μαινομένηι εἰκυῖα). This description of
Andromache, seen from the perspective of her housekeeper, is alarming for
both Hector and the audience, who are drawn into his world: it opens a
question about Andromache's feelings, which later become the focus of
attention. On the relationship between Andromache and her housekeeper,
see Introduction 3.2 and 4.4.

381 ∼ Od. 17.495 = 18.169. αὖτ᾽: cf. 73n. (αὖτε). ὀτρηρὴ ταμίη: a variation
on the more common αἰδοίη ταμίη (at Od. 1.139 = 4.55, 7.175, etc.). For the
epithet's emphasis on trustworthiness and efficiency, see 1.321, Od. 4.735
(ὀτρηρῶς); and more generally LfgrE s.v. ὀτρηρός. πρὸς…ἔειπεν: on tmesis,
cf. 42–3n. μῦθον: cf. 343n.

382 The emphasis is on truth, as Hector had demanded: cf. 376n. Ἕκτορ:
the first-name address is not particularly intimate in early Greek epic
(Weise 1965: 184), though it is rarely used by servants. ἄνωγας: cf. 170n.
(ἠνώγει). ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι: cf. 376n. (νημερτέα μυθήσασθαι).

383–5 ∼ 378–80. Precision matters, so the housekeeper repeats Hector's

guesses verbatim, addressing them one by one; cf. 90–7n.

386 ἀλλ᾽ begins the second half of the speech, which contains alarming
news about Andromache's behaviour. πύργον…μέγαν Ἰλίου: the
housekeeper must refer to the bastion near the Scaean Gates (373n.), though
Troy has other bastions too, cf. 18.274, 278 and 22.195.

387 τείρεσθαι Τρῶας: this striking enjambment marks Andromache's

terrifying realisation; for τείρεσθαι cf. 85n. and 255n. μέγα…Ἀχαιῶν: a
powerful epic phrase, cf. formulaic μέγα κράτος ἐγγυάλιξε, τοῦ γὰρ κράτος
ἐστὶ μέγιστον and many similar expressions. κράτος is often used of
superior ‘power’, and hence victory, as here; see further LfgrE s.v. κράτος/
κάρτος B 1.

388 μὲν δή summarises the information about Andromache and points

forward to Astyanax, who is mentioned in the next line: cf. δ᾽ at 389. τεῖχος:
very close in meaning to πύργος, cf. 373n., and ΣD ad 3.153. ἐπειγομένη
‘rushing’; the verb expresses the theme of urgent action which pervades
book 6; cf. 363n. ἀϕικάνει ‘has gone’; cf. Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 190.
389 μαινομένηι εἰκυῖα ‘looking like a madwoman’; cf. 100–1n. (μαίνεται).
Later, at 22.460, the poet describes Andromache leaving the house and
running to the rampart ‘like a maenad’ (μαινάδι ἴση). One difference
between the two descriptions is that the poet offers a precise likeness,
whereas the housekeeper gives her subjective impression of Andromache's
behaviour: her words resemble verse-initial formulae of the type noun +
εἰκυῖα (3.386, 19.350, Od. 2.383, etc.) which describe goddesses in disguise;
and the verb she uses, μαίνεσθαι, features often in character speech,
especially when the speaker wants to tell the addressee that a third party is
out of control, and urgent action is needed; see further Hershkowitz 1998:
132–42. Many scholars detect in the housekeeper's words an allusion to
Dionysiac religion (e.g. Privitera 1970: 60–1; Arthur Katz 1981: 30;
Seaford 1994: 330–3, esp. n. 6; Gagliardi 2006: 16–17; Tsagalis 2008: ch.
1), but that implication is only spelled out at 22.460. For another
madwoman in Iliad 6 (certainly not a maenad), see Anteia at 160n. On this
passage and 22.460, see also Segal 1971b: 47–8. ϕέρει…τιθήνη: at 22.460–
1, in the extremity of her distress, Andromache leaves without her child; but
at this stage in the poem she still wants him near her. He becomes the focus
of attention for both parents later: 400–3n. and 466–81n.

390 The speech-concluding line (51n.) effectively conveys Hector's

immediate departure, cf. ΣbT ad 6.390. After ἦ ῥα, the narrative usually
stays with the speaker; here, by contrast, we follow Hector: the effect is
especially abrupt; cf. LfgrE s.v. ἦ B III 3 a. ἦ ‘she said’; frequent speech-
concluding verb, attested in early epic only in the 3rd pers. sing. ῥα: 232n.
γυνὴ ταμίη: cf. Od. 2.345, 3.479 (in the same metrical position); see also
323n. (μετ᾽ ἄρα δμωιῆισι γυναιξίν). ὃ δ᾽: the change of subject with
demonstrative pronoun (cf. 9n.) and δέ (1n.) replaces the more usual
construction with καί and no change of subject. ἀπέσσυτο: cf. 361n., though
here the emphasis is on leaving home, rather than going towards the
battlefield. δώματος: in the same position as the standard epithet ϕαίδιμος,
cf. ἐξέσσυτο ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ at 7.1. δώματος draws attention to the fact that
Hector is leaving his home.

391 Hector was not coming directly from the Scaean Gates, but the poet
constructs a neat reversal of direction: Introduction 3.3. ὁδόν: 292n.
ἐϋκτιμένας κατ᾽ ἀγυιάς: up to now, the focus was on individual buildings,
which were Hector's destinations: the palace of Priam (242–52n.), that of
Paris (312–17n.) and Hector's own home (370n.). Now that Hector is ready
to leave the city, the poet offers a more general impression of its built-up
streets, which is in stark contrast with the openness of the battlefield. The
phrase is unique, though compare ἐϋκτίμενον πτολίεθρον, etc.

392–3 πύλας…Σκαιάς: the hyperbaton places the significant toponym at

the beginning of a new line, in enjambment. Hector rushed home to see
Andromache (αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειτα: 370n.), and she rushed towards the battlefield
to see him (ἐπειγομένη: 388n.). Now they meet between home and the
battlefield. At the end of their encounter, Hector insists they should return
to their respective spheres: 485–93n. On the significance of their meeting
point, see Introduction 4.4.

392 εὖτε: for the lack of connecting particles, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol.
II, 254. διερχόμενος μέγα ἄστυ: Hector crosses the great city at speed:
Introduction 3.3 and 4. On the great city of Troy, cf. 2.332, 9.136 = 278,
16.448 and esp. 22.251. For ἄστυ as one's own city, 95n.

393 ἄρ brings out the significance of the Scaean Gates, as they come into
view. ἔμελλε emphasises that it is Andromache who intercepts Hector; cf.
ΣbT ad 6.394a; Schadewaldt 1997: 131; and Felson and Slatkin 2004: 99,
n. 24. According to Kirk 1990: 21, ‘it is inconceivable that, having been
told precisely where Andromakhe was, he should rush past without even
looking for her’. But Hector is under pressure to return to the battlefield as
soon as possible (Introduction 4), and Andromache certainly thinks he is
about to enter into battle. πεδίονδε: the open plain, where the battle is raging
(2n., 38n.); contrast the previous lines, which describe the built-up streets
(391n.), the great city (μέγα ἄστυ: 392n.) and the gates (392–3n.).

394 Andromache runs towards Hector: the delay at 395–8n. only heightens
the anticipation before husband and wife face one another at 399n. ἔνθ᾽: cf.
251n. and 318n. ἄλοχος πολύδωρος = 22.88 (of Andromache) and Od.
24.294 (of Penelope). The expression emphasises Andromache's role as
Hector's precious, wedded wife. In Homer brides have a dowry and also
receive wedding gifts: Snodgrass 1974; and Scheid-Tissinier 1994: 87–106.
The expression πολύδωρος may refer to both kinds of offerings; cf. ΣD ad
6.394; LfgrE s.v. πολύδωρος. For Andromache's wedding gifts, cf. 22.470–
2; for her lavish dowry, cf. Sappho fr. 44.8–10 Voigt, with Introduction 5.
The emphasis on gifts suggests a contrast between Andromache and Helen,
whose union with Paris is based on theft, cf. 3.70–2 and 91–3, 7.362–4.
ἦλθε θέουσα ‘came running’. Andromache's behaviour recalls that of the
other women Hector met during his mission in Troy: 237–41n. The
phrasing closely resembles 251n., though Hecuba moves more slowly, as
befits her age; another difference is that Hecuba was entirely startled by
Hector's appearance, whereas Andromache was hoping to see him, even if
only from afar.

395–8 Andromache's name, in progressive enjambment, triggers a short

biography: the poet mentions her father Eetion, her place of origin and her
marriage to Hector. The information provided resembles a standard entry in
an epic catalogue; the poet says nothing about the most tragic events in
Andromache's life: Eetion's defeat and the fall of Thebes already featured at
1.366–7, and Andromache will soon describe her father's death, the fall of
her city, the death of her brothers and that of her mother: 414–28n. As well
as providing a foil to Andromache's narrative, these lines further delay the
encounter between Hector and Andromache: she started running towards
him at 394n. but faces him only at 399n. (in ring composition); the
intervening lines slow the pace of the narrative and introduce Andromache
in a ‘grand and formal’ manner (Easterling 1995: 163).

395 = 8.187 ∼ Od. 6.17 = 213, etc.: a standard line. For enjambment
leading to further information on a character, cf. 13n. Ἀνδρομάχη: 371n.
μεγαλήτορος: 282–3n. (Πριάμωι μεγαλήτορι). Ἠετίωνος: for Eetion, king of
Cilician Thebes, cf. 1.366–7, 22.479–81, and see further 414–28n. There is
also a Trojan warrior called Eetion (17.575 and 590), and another Eetion
from Imbros, a guest-friend of the Trojans (21.43); for a fourth Eetion,
brother of Dardanos ancestor of the Trojans, see Hes. fr. 178.5–12 MW. All
these characters are associated with Troy; the etymology of the name is
unknown (Wathelet 1988: 563–4) and may be non-Greek (von Kamptz
1982: 135 and 372).
396 Ἠετίων: an unusual form of progressive enjambment: Hoekstra 1965:
34. It may be relevant that Ἠετίων ὅς sounds like Ἠετίωνος (Wackernagel
1926: 56), but the change of grammatical case hardly needs justifying (pace
Jacquinod 1994). ἔναιεν: for background information, the imperfect tense is
standard, cf. ἔχεθ᾽ at 398n. ὑπὸ Πλάκωι ὑληέσσηι = 425, and 22.479; cf.
Sappho fr. 44.6 Voigt (Θήβας ἐξ ἱέρας Πλακίας τ᾽ ἀ ᾽ [ἀϊ]ν<ν>άω). ὑλήεις,
‘wooded’, is a standard epithet of mountains (cf. 21.449; Od. 1.186; and
Hes. fr. 40.2 MW); it can also characterise glens (e.g. Hom. Hymn 14.5),
promontories (e.g. 17.747–8) and islands (e.g. 13.12, of Samos).

397 Θήβηι Ὑποπλακίηι ‘in Thebes beneath Mount Plakos’, with dative of
place (locative); cf. Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 78. The epithet is used only
here (though cf. Od. 3.81 ἐξ Ἰθάκης Ὑπονηΐου) and differentiates this Thebes
from more famous cities of the same name, for which see 222–3n.
(Θήβηισιν). Ancient readers located Thebes beneath Mount Plakos in the
plain near Adramyttion, opposite the island of Lesbos; cf. Hdt. 7.42; ΣbT ad
1.366c. Κιλίκεσσ᾽ ἄνδρεσσιν ἀνάσσων: cf., e.g., 17.308. The older
formulation must have been ἀνδρέσσι ϝανάσσων. The possible connections
between Eetion's ‘Cilicians’ and Cilicia in south-eastern Asia Minor are
debated; see Ulf and Rollinger 2010.

398 τοῦ περ δή ‘and the daughter of this man, then…᾽ The demonstrative
pronoun (9n.) with περ (41n.) and δή (52–3n.) resumes the main narrative
after a short digression; cf. 11.126, 12.256 and 15.707. ἔχεθ᾽ Ἕκτορι: men
standardly ‘have’ a wife in early Greek epic; for women, the passive
construction is used, as here. Formally, the construction seems to be
modelled on phrases that describe the taming of an animal or a woman
(δάμνημι), cf. George 2005: 51–5. For the word play Ἕκτωρ – ἔχειν, cf.
5.472–4, 6.403n., 24.730, with Taplin 1992: 116. χαλκοκορυστῆι: cf. 199n.
One papyrus reads Ἠε ίωνο[ς] (i.e. Ἠετίωνος): this seems to be an attempt to
make Homeric diction more sensitive to the immediate narrative context, cf.
112n.

399 The line resumes the narrative of 394, cf. ἔνθ᾽…ἐναντίη ἦλθε θέουσα. ἥ:
cf. 9n. ἔπειτ᾽: for the resumptive use of this particle, see West in Heubeck,
West and Hainsworth 1988: 163, ad Od. 3.62. ἤντησ᾽: Andromache faces
Hector, though he will first focus his attention on the child: 404n.
ἀμϕίπολος: the servant is Astyanax's wet nurse (τιθήνη: 389, 467n.), but
from Andromache's point of view (ἅμα…αὐτῆι), she is her maid; cf. 372n.

400–3 The baby was briefly mentioned twice (cf. 372n., 389n.); this full
description is matched by 466–83, in ring composition. The poet adopts the
language and perspective of a parent, as he accumulates epithets and words
of endearment: ἀταλάϕρονα, νήπιον, Ἑκτορίδην ἀγαπητόν, ἀλίγκιον ἀστέρι
καλῶι (400–1); see de Jong 1987a: 108, and, for the poet's language and
embedded focalisation, see further de Jong 2004: 136–46. For the
sympathetic portrayal of children and parenting in the Iliad see van Wees
1996, Ingalls 1998 and Pratt 2007. The next two lines, 402–3, widen the
perspective to include the views and hopes of the people of Troy: Hector
calls his son Skamandrios, but the Trojans call him Astyanax, because
Hector protects the city. Hector's role as father is thus inextricably linked to
his wider responsibilities towards the community, cf. Introduction 4.4 and
Redfield 1994, esp. 123–7. The alternative names for the baby interested
ancient readers: at Pl. Crat. 392c–393a, Socrates uses the two names
Astyanax/Skamandrios in order to draw a distinction between the language
of men and that of women, though in Homer the distinction is actually
between family and wider community.

400 παῖδ᾽ ἐπὶ κόλπωι ἔχουσ᾽ ∼ Hom. Hymn 2.187; for the ‘bosom’
(κόλπος) as the natural place for a baby, cf. 136n., 467–70n. and 482–3n.
κόλπωι: the ancient variant κόλπον (accusative) is well attested but difficult
to construe; it may stem from an ancient debate about the meaning of
Homeric κόλπος. Commenting on the vulgate text, the scholia argue that the
word usually refers to the upper part of the peplos rather than a part of the
female body; but they add that here it means ‘arms’ (ΣA ad 6.400a; cf. ΣA
ad 14.219a; ΣbT ad 22.80c), see also 136n. (κόλπωι), 372n. (καὶ ἀμϕιπόλωι
ἐϋπέπλωι) and 467n. ἀταλάϕρονα, νήπιον αὔτως: Lattimore translates ‘a
little child, only a baby’, which captures the tone of the phrase.
ἀταλάϕρονα: cf. 18.567, ἀταλὰ ϕρονέοντες. The epithet emphasises
Astyanax's babyish mind; cf. ἀταλός, ‘young, playful’, ἀτάλλω, ‘be
playful’; ἀτιτάλλω, ‘raise (young children)’. The exact meaning of the word
was debated also in antiquity: ΣD ad 6.400 associate it with ἁπαλός,
‘tender’ (cf. the variant ἁπαλὰ ϕρονέοντα at Hes. Theog. 989); ΣAbT ad
6.400ab derive it from τλῆναι, ‘to endure’ (ἀ-ταλάϕρονα = ‘not enduring’,
‘soft’); the latter derivation may already inform the punning πολύτλητοί τε
γέροντες || παρθενικαί τ᾽ ἀταλαί at Od. 11.38–9. For difficult words in
Homer, see Introduction 2.4. νήπιον αὔτως ∼ 22.484, 24.726. For νήπιον,
see 95n. For αὔτως in combination with νηπ-, cf. LfgrE s.v. αὔτως B, and
ΣA ad 6.400c οὕτως ὡς οἱ παῖδες, ‘just like children’.

401 Ἑκτορίδην: only here. The patronymic expresses the bond between
Hector and his child, especially in combination with ἀγαπητόν (‘dear’,
‘beloved’); but it also reminds the audience that Astyanax has, in fact, no
future: he will not continue his father's line, and there will be no further
occasion to call him a Hectorid; cf. Introduction 2.2. ἀλίγκιον ἀστέρι καλῶι:
another endearing description, cf. Carol Ann Duffy's rendition: ‘in Hector's
eyes…a swaddled star’ (Duffy and Graziosi 2005: 7). The phrase, however,
also has more ominous connotations, see Moulton 1977: 24–6, who
compares 295 and comments on the sense of foreboding evoked by star
similes. ἀλίγκιον ‘like in appearance (or effect)’; the word occurs only here
and at Od. 8.174, but cf. the common ἐναλίγκιος, with the same meaning
(e.g. 5.5, of a star). The emphasis is on how the baby looks (to Hector), cf.
400–3n.

402 τόν: cf. 9n. ῥ᾽: the evidential particle marks the process of recognition
(9n.): the audience now hears the name of the baby – first the one Hector
uses, then the name given to the child by the whole community. καλέεσκε:
the iterative form evokes family usage; cf. 9.561–4; Hes. Theog. 207–10;
and Naupactia, fr. 1 West. Σκαμάνδριον: a minor Trojan character is also
called Skamandrios (5.49), and several other Trojans are named after rivers:
Αἴσηπος (21n.), Σιμοείσιος (4.474) and Σάτνιος (14.443). Hector's chosen
name for his son expresses a connection with the Trojan landscape and may
also express the wish that the river might protect the boy (as it in fact
protects the Trojans against Achilles: 21.130–8, 211–382); at 23.144–9 we
are told that Peleus prayed to the Spercheios, the main river in his own
homeland, for the safe return of his son Achilles. The consonants σ and κ in
Σκαμάνδριον do not lengthen the preceding syllable; cf. Chantraine 1948–
53: vol. I, 110. αὐτάρ: cf. 83n.
403 The views and hopes of the community find expression in another
name for Hector's child. Andromache remembers those hopes, and the
people's name for her child, in her lament for Hector at 22.506–7; and
Hector alludes to them at 478n. Ἀστυάνακτ᾽ ‘lord of the city’ (cf. 95n.
(ἄστυ), 33n. (ἄναξ), 478n. (Ἰλίου ἶϕι ἀνάσσειν)); this name features also
elsewhere in the Iliad (22.500 and 506) and in other early hexameter poetry
(Iliou Persis in Proclus, Chrestomathy, p. 146 West). There is no easy
hierarchy between the two names given to the child: they suggest a tension
between family concerns and public expectations; for discussion see Kirk
1990: 212–13. οἶος…Ἕκτωρ: cf. 24.499. Hector's name was understood to
mean protector or ‘holder’ (ἔχειν) of Troy (398n.) The son's name reflects
the role of the father; see Higbie 1995: 11. The fate of Hector, and hence
that of his son, comes to represent that of the city: when Hector dies, it is as
though Troy had already fallen: 22.410–11. ἐρύετο: imperf. middle of
ἐρύομαι/ῥύομαι/ῥῦμαι/ἔρυμαι, ‘save’. Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 294
derives it from ἐρύομαι without augment, but the precise nature of the form
may well have been unclear to the poet himself; cf. Hainsworth 1993: 96–7.
Ἴλιον: cf. 60n.

404 A rare moment of tenderness: this is Hector's only smile in the entire
poem. His loving silence is equally rare, in a poem full of noise and
speeches. Astyanax is too young to talk, so Hector's silent response seems
especially appropriate. The line marks an important moment of transition in
Hector's encounter with Andromache. In her appeal to Hector, Andromache
takes her cue from his reaction, asking him to take pity on the baby, and on
herself: 405–39n., 407n. Astyanax thus eases the difficult encounter
between his parents: Introduction 4.4. ἤτοι: cf. 201n. ὃ μέν sets up
Ἀνδρομάχη δέ in the next line; on ὅ see 9n. (τόν). μείδησεν: Homeric smiles
express a range of emotions, from sarcasm to affection: Levine 1982–3.
Hector's is among the most affectionate in the poem. ἰδὼν ἐς παῖδα: Ηector
turns his attention on his child: the description of Astyanax at 400–3n. was
already largely focalised through him. For verbs of seeing as markers of
‘embedded focalisation’, cf. de Jong 2004: 102–7. σιωπῆι: a rare, loving
silence. When characters fall silent in the Iliad, it is often out of
embarrassment, fear or sadness, cf. 342n. and see also 7.427–8.
405–39 The speech is initially organised in concentric circles but takes a
surprising turn towards the end. Andromache starts on a note of reproach
(407n.), claiming that Hector takes no pity on his child (he has been smiling
at the baby: 404n.). She then turns to her own plight (407–13n.). In the next
section (414–28n.) she explains how her father, brothers and mother have
died. She then returns to her fear and dependence: Hector is everything to
her – father, mother, brother and tender husband (429–30n.): this statement
is the emotional core of her speech. In the final section she asks Hector to
take pity on the child and herself, in ring composition, and to stay ἐπὶ
πύργωι (431n.); she then adds a concrete suggestion, which follows from
her initial word of criticism: 433–9. In some respects, her speech resembles
a formal rebuke, particularly in the opening words and the final suggestion
(Minchin 2007: 160–3); but, as a rebuke, it is unparallelled: elsewhere
warriors are upbraided for not fighting, whereas Andromache is alarmed by
Hector's courage. The central part of her speech closely resembles a funeral
lament, though again it is unique, because she performs it in front of her
living husband (cf. 500n.). Just like Briseis and Helen in their own laments
for the dead, Andromache offers a tragic account of her past (cf. 19.291–4;
24.763–6), emphasises her utter dependence on the addressee (cf. 19.295–9,
24.768–72) and dreads the future without him (cf. 19.300, 24.773–5); her
speech also prefigures her own future laments for the dead Hector at
22.475–515 and 24.723–46; see further Kirk 1990: 214; J. M. Foley 1999:
188–98; Tsagalis 2004: 118–29; Gagliardi 2006; and, especially for the
parallels with Briseis’ lament, Lohmann 1988: 19–20 and 39–40, and Dué
2002: 68–72. The rhythm of Andromache's words is strained: Introduction
2.1 and Bakker 2005: 52–5. For a discussion of the speech as an example of
schetliasmos (an emotional plea not to go on a dangerous mission), see
Stoevesandt 2008: 133.

405 ∼ 5.570; cf. 16.2 etc. Ἀνδρομάχη δέ picks up ὃ μέν at 404n. and shifts
the focus back to Andromache. ἄγχι παρίστατο: cf., e.g., formulaic ἄγχι
παρέστη/παραστάς, often in lines that introduce a speech (e.g. 23.304–5,
Od. 9.345, etc.). δάκρυ χέουσα: formulaic at the end of the line (cf. 22.79
etc.). Andromache's tears foreshadow her imminent bereavement: δάκρυ
χέουσα are the last two words in the lament she performs at Hector's
funeral: 24.745. For Andromache's tears, see also 373n., 455n., 459n.,
484n., 496n., 499n., 500n.
406 = 253n. Andromache's emotional appeal and affectionate gesture
mirror Hecuba's earlier address to Hector; cf. 394n.

407–13 Andromache, who has just seen Hector run towards the battlefield,
now warns him that his impulse to fight (μένος: 26–7n.) will kill him. She
accuses him of feeling no pity for his child – or for his wife, who will soon
be a widow. Andromache's language is anguished (τάχα…τάχα: 408–9),
and the repeated enjambments, especially when paired with bucolic
diaeresis (cf. 407/8, 408/9, 411/12), create a forward rhythm that breaks up
the natural cadences of the hexameter: Introduction 2.1. She envisages
Hector's death, as all the Achaeans rush forward and attack him together
(410n.): her vision is grimly prophetic since, although Achilles alone kills
Hector, all the Achaeans surround his corpse and stab it at 22.369–75.
Andromache then contemplates her future. If Hector is killed, she wants to
die too; her wish fits a funerary lament: 410–11n. Three γάρ-clauses of
increasing length and complexity gradually bring order to her turmoil; cf.
409n. (γάρ), 411 and 414–28n. Andromache's intensive use of personal
pronouns, which characterises this opening section, presents her fate as
interwoven with Hector's: σε, σόν (407); ἔμ᾽ (408); σεῦ, σε (409); ἐμοί (410);
σεῦ (411); σύ (412); μοι (413); cf. Andromache's funerary lament at 22.477:
‘We were born to the same fate…’

407 δαιμόνιε: Hector uses the same word to address his brother (326n.,
521n.) and calls Andromache δαιμονίη at 486n. ϕθίσει…μένος: Andromache
fears that Hector is brave to the point of recklessness, cf. 22.455–9. For the
dangers of excessive bravery, and the criticism it attracts in the Homeric
poems, see Graziosi and Haubold 2003 and Clarke 2004. σε…σόν: cf. 407–
13n. οὐδ᾽ ἐλεαίρεις ∼ 21.147 (of Achilles), Od. 23.313 (of the Cyclops).
Hector does take pity on Andromache (ἐλέησε: 484n.) but does not remain
with her ἐπὶ πύργωι as she asks at 431n. For Andromache's appeals for pity,
see further Burkert 1955: 86–8; Crotty 1994: 46–51; and Konstan 2001: 61–
2.

408 Andromache mentions first the child and then herself, in necessary
enjambment; see further 407–13n. νηπίαχον: meaning and etymology are
unclear, though certainly connected to νήπιος (Risch 1974: 176, 208 and
216); some ancient readers heard in the adjective νήπιος + ἰάχω/ἰαχέω, ‘cry’
(Eustathius II, p. 347: 8–12 van der Valk); cf. ἰάχων at 468n. It is only used
of young children, and in contexts that emphasise their lack of valour (cf.
2.337–8 and 16.262). Eustathius ad loc. (II, p. 347: 12–14 van der Valk)
claims that the word is more emotive than simple νήπιος (400n.). At 22.502
Andromache uses the verb νηπιαχεύω to describe Astyanax’s former life, in
contrast with the harsh realities he will have to face after Hector's death. καὶ
ἔμ᾽ ἄμμορον = 24.773 (Helen laments her fate after Hector has died).
ἄμμορος derives from ἀ- + μόρος, lit. ‘without a share’ and hence
‘abandoned’ (cf. 18.489 = Od. 5.275 and Hom. Hymn 2.481; see also
ἀμμορίη at Od. 20.76). Several compounds in -μορος express wretchedness
(e.g. αἰνόμορος, δύσμορος, κάμμορος); the emphasis of ἄμμορος is on loss. At
22.485 and 24.727 Andromache calls Hector and herself δυσάμμοροι, an
even more extreme word for grief and loss; cf. Ferrari 1986: 65–6. The
variant ἐμὸν μόρον (also at 24.773) yields less good sense and was criticised
also in antiquity (cf. ΣA ad 6.408: οὐκ εὖ). ἔμ᾽: cf. 407–13n. τάχα: 407–13n.
Hector also feels that his death is imminent: 367–8n. χήρη: usually ‘widow’
in Homer, but here followed by a genitive in enjambment, hence ‘bereft’.
The word features five times in Andromache's speeches: 432, 22.484,
22.499 and 24.725; but it occurs only once in the rest of early hexameter
epic: χῆραι at 2.289, though cf. χηρεύω (‘lack’: Od. 9.124), χηρόω
(‘bereave’: Il. 5.642, 17.36), χηρωσταί (bereaved relatives: 5.158; Hes.
Theog. 606–7). For Andromache as the archetypal Homeric widow, see
Taplin 1992: 125–6, and Introduction 5.

409 The necessary enjambment underscores Andromache's loss, cf. 407–

13n. σεῦ: this form, with Ionic contraction (cf. 280n.), is transmitted here
and elsewhere at the beginning of the hexameter line. West prints σεῖ᾽
ἔσομαι, which avoids hiatus; cf. the transmitted σεῖ᾽ at 454n. (not at the
beginning of the line). τάχα: 407–13n. γάρ: the first of three γάρ-clauses
which explain Andromache's plight; cf. 407–13n. κατακτανέουσιν Ἀχαιοί:
only here, though cf. 14.481 (κατακτανέεσθε καὶ ὔμμες), also in direct
speech. For the unusual future which seems to have been formed on the
basis of the aorist stem (cf. ἔκτανον), see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 449–
50.
410–11 Andromache's death wish is a characteristic of funeral laments (cf.
Tsagalis 2004: 119) but also fits other speeches in book 6. Hector wished
death on his brother Paris at 281–2n.; then Helen wished death on herself at
344–8n.; in his reply to Andromache, Hector will claim that he had rather
die than witness her enslavement: 464–5n.

410 The line, in progressive enjambment, develops a specific scenario,

where Hector is isolated, surrounded by all the Achaeans and killed. This
prediction points to Andromache's even more accurate vision of his death at
22.454–9. In both cases, Andromache believes (with some justification:
492–3n.) that Hector's excessive bravery will impel him forward on his
own, and therefore make him vulnerable to attack. Andromache's fears fit
into a wider Homeric discourse about the dangers of excessive bravery,
especially as perceived by women; see Graziosi and Haubold 2003. πάντες
ἐϕορμηθέντες ‘attacking together’, cf. 24.800; in early epic the aorist ending
-θην is usually intransitive rather than passive (106n.). For a similar
situation, cf. 11.401–84 where Odysseus is surrounded by the Trojans. ἐμοὶ
δέ κε κέρδιον εἴη = Od. 2.74; cf. Il. 3.41, 5.201 = 22.103, 7.28, etc. The
phrase ‘identifies an action or event that will not or did not happen and
forecasts something dire as a result’ (J. M. Foley 1999: 195). For the
comparative κέρδιον ‘advantageous, preferable’, cf. 153n. (κέρδιστος). ἐμοί:
cf. 407–13n.

411 σεῦ ἀϕαμαρτούσηι: an arresting expression; Andromache provides the

only parallel at 22.505. Forms of (ἀϕ-)αμαρτάνω (mostly in the aorist)
mean ‘miss a goal or target’ rather than ‘lose something’ (Od. 9.512, in
direct speech, is another exception). Andromache extends the use of this
verb to personal bereavement: if Hector dies, her life no longer has a goal.
For σεῦ see 409n. and 407–13n. χθόνα δύμεναι ‘sink beneath the earth’; no
direct parallels but cf. 19n., 281–2n., 3.322, 7.131 (δῦναι δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω),
23.100–1 (ψυχὴ δὲ κατὰ χθονὸς…ὤιχετο). For the form δύμεναι cf. 185n.
γάρ: cf. 407–13n.

412 For the necessary enjambment see 407–13n. θαλπωρή: etymologically

related to θάλπω (‘heat’) but always used metaphorically of human warmth
and comfort, cf. 10.223, Od. 1.166–7, with Zink 1962: 11–12; Arthur Katz
1981: 32. Translate: ‘and there will be no other comfort left’. For the accent
see Probert 2006: 36–8. ἐπεὶ ἄν ‘once’. The only uncontracted example in
Homer, otherwise ἐπήν; cf. 489n., Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 258–9. σύ
γε: cf. 407–13; for γε, see 16–17n. πότμον ἐπίσπηις: a common formula in
this position; for πότμος, ‘fate of death’, cf. Clarke 1999: 241, 251–3.
ἐπίσπηις is aor. subj. of ἐϕέπω, cf. 321–2n. (ἕποντα). The meaning of the
phrase πότμον ἐπισπεῖν (in the aorist or future) is not fully transparent but
must be something like ‘to meet with one's fate’ (euphemistic); for another
semantically difficult expression for ‘dying’ cf. 143n.

413 Andromache thinks about her own family as the only other possible
source of comfort; cf. 429n. in ring composition. The blood relatives of a
married woman continued to take an active interest in her life, particularly
in times of crisis; cf. 167–70n. and 425–8n. ἀλλ᾽ ἄχε᾽: another harsh runover
(cf. 407–13n.), this time of the progressive type. The expression comes
close to an anguished scream. ἄχε᾽ is a rare occurrence of ἄχος in the plural;
for which see 336n. The dual elision and the slightly elliptical syntax make
the phrase memorable, see Introduction 4.4. οὐδέ μοι ἐστὶ πατὴρ καὶ πότνια
μήτηρ: a statement of devastating simplicity, expressed in traditional
language: πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ is formulaic at the end of the line, cf.,
e.g., 9.561. Andromache now relies on Hector alone: 429–30n.

414–28 A third γάρ-clause explains Andromache's despair; cf. 407–13n.

This account of her family's tragic end is in stark contrast with the standard
biographical details (birth, marriage) provided by the poet at 395–8n.,
though Andromache's tone is more restrained in this section than in her
opening address; see Introduction 4.4. This section of her speech falls into
three parts: she recalls how Achilles sacked her city and killed her father
Eetion (414–20); how her seven brothers died at the hands of Achilles
(421–4); and how Achilles captured her mother and released her for a
ransom, only for her to die at home (425–8). This is an elaboration of 413:
between the father's death and the mother's, Andromache recalls the death
of all their sons; the motif of the orphan girl, bereaved of her seven
brothers, recalls folk-tale patterns: 421n. On Achilles in Andromache's
account, see Minchin 2007: 262–3: his behaviour is destructive but will
become even harsher later in the poem. Hector's fate is worse than Eetion's;
likewise Andromache's fate is even more horrific than that of her mother:
425–8n. Achilles’ destruction of Thebes is mentioned repeatedly in the Iliad
(1.366–7, 9.188, 16.153, 23.826–9) and also featured in the Cypria
(Kullmann 1960: 287–91; Jones 1995): it serves as a model for what will
happen to Troy (Easterling 1995). Andromache's account gives the
impression that she is drawing on a well-developed saga about Thebes,
partly because she adopts the tone of a bard, cf. 414n. (δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς), 418–
19n. (ἄρα) and 423n. (ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς). However, we need not
suppose that the poet was alluding to an actual tradition or poem (pace
Zarker 1965: 110; and Kirk 1990: 214–15).

414 ἤτοι is taken up by δέ at 421 (Andromache's brothers), and 425 (her

mother); cf. 201n. γάρ introduces, as often, a substantial digression; cf.
130–1n. ἀμόν ‘my’, a reminder that Andromache speaks about her own
bereavement, cf. 421n. The adjective is probably an archaic form of the 1st
pers. plur. (cf. ἡμέτερος), which was then understood also as a 1st pers.
sing.; cf. Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 272. It is used as a plural at 13.96 (∼
ἡμέτερος) and looks like a singular (∼ ἐμός) at Od. 11.166–7 = 481–2; in
other passages it remains ambiguous. The adjective was extensively
discussed in antiquity, see ΣAbT ad 6.414bc. Both ἀμός and ἁμός are
attested; the majority of manuscripts has ἀμόν, suggesting the ancient
derivation from ἐμόν (which is also attested as a variant reading). δῖος
Ἀχιλλεύς: frequent line-ending formula; for δῖος cf. 31n. The phrase is
uncommon in character speech, though both Hector and Andromache use it
elsewhere (18.305, 22.102 and 455). Here it suggests a change in register
after the raw despair of lines 407–13; cf. 414–28n. Achilles remains the
grammatical subject until line 419.

415 cf. 1.366–7, where Achilles describes the campaign from his
perspective. ἐκ…πέρσεν: cf. 42–3n. (πὰρ…ἔστη). Κιλίκων: cf. 397n.εὖ
ναιετάωσαν ‘well-settled’; cf. 370n. The form embarrassed ancient
commentators; by the normal rules of Homeric grammar, one would expect
either ναιετόωσαν with diectasis (cf. 148n.), or uncontracted ναιετάουσαν.
Aristarchus favoured ναιετόωσαν, ΣA ad 6.415b, but ναιετάωσ- is the
transmitted form in many passages in extant epic and should stand.
416 Θήβην ὑψίπυλον: elsewhere the epithet is used only of Troy (16.698,
21.544; and cf. Bacchyl. 9.46); for the analogies between these two cities,
see Easterling 1995: 165 and 414–28n. For Thebes underneath Mount
Plakos, 397n.; for Boeotian and Egyptian Thebes, cf. 222–3n. (Θήβηισιν).
κατὰ δ᾽ ἔκτανεν: cf. ἀπέκτανε at 414n., before bucolic diairesis, as here. For
κατά as a free-standing word, see 42–3n. Ἠετίωνα: the personal name
recalls 395n. Andromache's mother remains unnamed: 425n.

417–20 Although Eetion's city has fallen, a landmark still commemorates

his life. Andromache now tells Hector about Achilles’ respectful handling
of Eetion's body (417n.); later, at the point of death, Hector will beg
Achilles for the privilege of a burial, but with no success: 22.337–54.

417 οὐδέ μιν ἐξενάριξε ‘and he did not take his spoils’, cf. 20n. Being
robbed of one's arms is a relatively mild form of dishonour (cf. 7.77–80),
though it may lead to more shameful acts: Segal 1971a: 18–21. At the end
of the poem Achilles will not only take Hector's spoils but deny him burial
and defile his corpse: 22.367–404 and 24.12–18. For other signs that the
war has become more brutal, cf. 46–50n. and 55–60n. Achilles reflects on
his own increased brutality at 21.100–5. σεβάσσατο…θυμῶι: a sudden and
unexpected display of mercy, cf. 167n.

418–19 It is Achilles who buries Eetion; contrast his later, reluctant release
of Hector's body, so that his people can organise a funeral: 24.559–70.
Burial is crucially important to Homeric warriors (for the fear of being
eaten by birds and dogs, cf., e.g., 1.4–5, 22.335–54, Od. 3.258–60; and see
Segal 1971a, esp. ch. 3). To be buried with one's weapons is rare (cf. Od.
11.74) and only happens when there is nobody left to inherit them: Bouvier
2002b. Easterling 1995: 164 compares Andromache's burning of Hector's
clothes after his death. ἄρα marks what actually happened; cf. 75n. (ἄρ).
Andromache's tone now resembles that of the poet; cf. 414–28n., 426n.
κατέκηε < κατακαίω, ‘burn completely’, often of sacrifice or funeral pyres.
σὺν ἔντεσι δαιδαλέοισιν = 13.331 and 719. ἔντεα refers to the armour and
weapons (Trümpy 1950: 79–81); for δαιδάλεος (‘well-wrought’) and related
terms, see S. P. Morris 1992: 3–35. Eetion's beautifully crafted possessions
also feature at 9.186–8 (καλῆι δαιδαλέηι). ἠδ᾽ ἐπὶ σῆμ᾽ ἔχεεν ∼ 24.799. After
cremation, the pyre is covered with earth and turned into a burial mound; cf.
23.250–7, with Sourvinou-Inwood 1995: 122–5. For the commemorative
function of a σῆμα (‘sign’ at 168n., but more specifically ‘burial mound’),
cf. 7.84–91; see also 2.811–14 (the hill of Batieia known to the gods as the
funeral mound of Myrine); and 10.415, 11.166, 371–2 (the funeral mound
of Ilos). The tomb as σῆμα is discussed in Vermeule 1979: 45; Ford 1992:
138–46; Sourvinou-Inwood 1995: 131–6; and Grethlein 2008: 31–2.

419–20 περὶ δὲ πτελέας ἐϕύτευσαν || νύμϕαι ὀρεστιάδες ‘and around it the

mountain nymphs planted elm trees’; the trees make Eetion's burial site
more distinctive and recognisable; cf. 13.437 where the poet compares a
wounded warrior to a ‘stele or a towering tree’, thus suggesting a parallel
between man-made and natural landmarks and memorials. The gods
orchestrate other prominent burials too, see esp. 16.666–83 (Sarpedon), but
Eetion's burial remains anomalous; cf. Andronikos 1968: 33. It signals the
end of a family and a city, not just a person. πτελέας: Virgil, Aen. 6.282–4
associates elm trees with dreams and the underworld; Plin. HN 16.72 claims
they are infertile (for the infertility of underworld trees, cf. Od. 10.510).
νύμϕαι ὀρεστιάδες ∼ Hom. Hymn 19.19. For hills and mountains as the
habitat of nymphs see Larson 2001: 8–9; cf. 22n. κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο:
formulaic at the end of the line; the expression is used either of nymphs or
of the Muses. The aegis is Zeus's most significant, but also most mysterious
weapon, probably best understood as a goatskin used as protection, or a
goatskin shield embellished with gold; cf., e.g., 4.166–7, 15.308–10, 24.20–
1. The precise meaning of αἰγιόχοιο is unclear and was already obscure to
the epic poets, who subjected the word to etymologising speculation; see
LfgrE s.vv. αἰγίς B, αἰγίοχος Σχ and B, with discussion of Hes. Sc. 443–4
(αἰγιόχοιο ∼ αἰγίδ᾽ ἔχουσα); Il. 7.59–60 (where αἰγιόχοιο is associated with
αἰγύπιοι, ‘vultures’, derived from αἴξ, ‘goat’, by popular etymology); and
Od. 9.154–7, with αἰγιόχοιο ∼ αἶγας (‘goats’) and αἰγανέας (‘spears’, again
derived from αἴξ in antiquity).

421–4 Between the death of her father, and that of her mother,
Andromache places the demise of her seven brothers. Achilles killed them
all on a single day, while they were tending cattle and sheep. This activity is
typical of young men (25n.): Andromache's brothers were killed before they
reached their prime. οἳ δὲ… || οἳ…: the register and grammatical structure is
typical of catalogues, cf. 2.511–12 etc., 2.828–30 etc. Andromache lists her
misfortunes.

421 Translate: ‘but as for the seven brothers I had in the house’. οἳ δέ:
relative pronoun (‘those who’); δέ follows after ἤτοι at 414 and introduces
the whole sentence at 421–2, not merely the relative clause at 421. μοι: a
reminder that the story is told from the perspective of Andromache. ἑπτά:
numbers are often significant in Homer, cf. three (435n.), nine (174n.),
twelve (93–4n., 248–50n.), twenty (217n.), fifty (244n.), one hundred
(115n.). Children are frequently six or multiples of six (248n., 24.603–4,
Od. 10.6, 24.497; cf. Il. 5.270, 20.225), but in those cases the emphasis is
on the parents’ achievement; here the perspective is that of the only
surviving sister. For the folk-tale motif of the little girl and her seven
brothers, see Thompson 1955–8: Z71.5.1. For Briseis and her three brothers,
cf. 19.293–4. ἐν μεγάροισιν: cf. 371n.

422 The cause of death is only revealed in the next line. οἳ μέν takes up
421n. (οἳ δέ) and keeps the audience focused on Andromache's brothers
until attention shifts to her mother at 425n. (μητέρα δ᾽); for this use of μέν
see Bakker 1997a: 84–5. ἰῶι…ἤματι refers emphatically to ‘one and the
same’, esp. when that is unexpected; cf. LfgrE s.v. ἴα, ἰῶι (only these
forms); for the dative of time, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 81. κίον
‘went’, 3rd pers. pl. of (ἔ)κιε, only attested in the aorist stem. ῎Αϊδος εἴσω:
284n.

423 ∼ 190n., 23.828. γάρ explains how the seven brothers died: it turns
out that Achilles is, again, responsible for the massacre. κατέπεϕνε: cf. 12n.
(ἔπεϕνε). ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς: only here in direct speech. For the
similarities between Andromache's tone and the voice of the poet, cf. 418–
19n. (ἄρα): her family's demise is best expressed in the language of heroic
epic, cf. 414–28n. For the formulaic system ‘swift-footed Achilles’ and its
significance in the Iliad, see further Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 49–53. For
δῖος, cf. 31n., 414n.
424 βουσὶν ἐπ᾽ εἰλιπόδεσσι: cf. Hes. fr. 193.17 MW (restored), in a similar
context. The phrasing is traditional: cf., e.g., Od. 20.221; Hom. Hymn
4.272; Hes. Theog. 290. The preposition ἐπί (‘at’, ‘among’; cf. 25n.)
suggests that Andromache's brothers were taken by surprise. Wars and
battles over cattle are common in epic: cf. 1.154, 11.671–6, 18.527ff., Od.
17.471–2; Hes. Theog. 289–91, Op. 163. Achilles also attacked Aeneas
while he was tending cattle, though he managed to escape with the help of
Zeus: 20.89–93. Griffin 1992: 197–9 discusses this and other examples of
bucolic seclusion disrupted by war. εἰλιπόδεσσι: only of oxen. Ancient
readers connected it with ἑλίσσω (cf. ΣD ad 6.424) and took it to refer to the
rolling gait of cattle (contrast μῆλα ταναύποδα, ἵπποι ἀερσίποδες). καὶ
ἀργεννῆις ὀΐεσσι ∼ Od. 17.472; cf. Il. 3.198, 18.529, 588. *ἀργεννός =
‘white, bright’ (of sheep and woven wool).

425–8 Achilles captures Andromache's mother and later releases her for a
ransom; she then returns to her own family of origin and dies in the
ancestral home of her father; cf. Chryseis, who is captured in Thebes,
presumably where she lived with her husband (1.366–9), and is then
returned to her father, who lives in Chryse (1.98–100 etc.). The fate of
Andromache's mother is terrible, but this passage suggests that
Andromache's own future will be worse. If Troy falls, there will be nobody
in a position to pay ransom for Andromache, nor will she be able to return
to her own parents, because Achilles has already sacked her city, and all her
family are dead. These lines lead on to Andromache's famous statement that
Hector is everything to her: 429–30n. Married women could normally rely
on the help of their family of origin, particularly in times of crisis: cf. 167–
70n. and 413n.

425 μητέρα δ᾽ takes up ἤτοι πατέρ᾽ ἀμόν (414n.) and οἳ δὲ…κασίγνητοι

(421n.). βασίλευεν ‘was queen’ (imperfect). The verb is rarely used of
women: Andromache remembers her own mother as the queen of Thebes
under Mount Plakos, before moving on to her enslavement and death.
Euripides’ Hecuba, another fallen queen, remarks on the effectiveness of
juxtaposing accounts of earlier happiness with later misfortunes at Tr. 472–
3: πρῶτον μὲν οὖν μοι τἀγάθ᾽ ἐξᾶισαι ϕίλον· || τοῖς γὰρ κακοῖσι πλείον᾽ οἶκτον
ἐμβαλῶ. ὑπὸ Πλάκωι ὑληέσσηι: cf. 396n.
426 τήν: cf. 9n. ἄρ: cf. 418–19n. δεῦρ᾽ ‘here’, i.e. to Troy. ἅμ᾽ ἄλλοισι
κτεάτεσσιν ∼ 23.829 (also of the spoils Achilles took from Eetion; on
which see also 9.186–8). For captive women as material goods, cf. 290n.:
Andromache adopts the language of her mother's captors when she talks
about her in this way. Her shift in tone (contrast βασίλευεν: 425n.)
accompanies her mother's drastic change of fortune.

427 ὅ γε: sc. Achilles; he dominated Andromache's account of her family's

demise: 414–28n. Just as he buried Eetion with his armour (418–19n.), he
was also prepared to free his widow for a ransom. Warriors never release
prisoners for ransom in the main narrative of the Iliad, though this
happened earlier in the war: 46–50n. For the increasing brutality displayed
by warriors in general, and Achilles in particular, cf. 414–28n. and 417n. γε
after the demonstrative pronoun sets up a contrast with line 428; cf.
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 159. τήν: cf. 9n. For the ransom of women, see
LfgrE s.v. ἄποινα B 1 b. ἀπέλυσε: a technical term for releasing a person in
exchange for ransom (simple λύομαι can also mean ‘ransom’); cf. LfgrE s.v.
λύω B I 1 d and II 2 b. λαβὼν ἀπερείσι᾽ ἄποινα ∼ 1.13 = 372, cf. 24.502.
For ἀπερείσι᾽ ἄποινα, cf. 49n. (also at verse end). The line suggests a happy
ending, but Andromache's mother dies in the next line.

428 Cf. Od. 15.478. Artemis is generally held responsible for the death of
women (205n.). This passage suggests a specific parallel between the
goddess and Achilles, who has just killed Andromache's male relatives.
Achilles is repeatedly presented as a human counterpart to Apollo, Artemis’
twin brother, in the Iliad; see G. Nagy 1999, Rabel 1990. πατρὸς δ᾽ ἐν
μεγάροισι ∼ Hes. fr. 43a.33 MW (restored); cf., e.g., 21.475. ῎Αρτεμις
ἰοχέαιρα ‘Artemis the arrow-shooter’, a frequent formula at verse end. The
epithet is unique to Artemis; its exact meaning was debated also in
antiquity, cf. Hesychius s.v. ἰοχέαιρα: ‘spreading/shooting arrows’ (< χέω),
or ‘rejoicing in arrows’ (< χαίρω). Both ancient etymologies take their cue
from early poetry: cf. Hom. Hymn 27.2–6, where ἰοχέαιρα ∼ πέμπουσα
στονόεντα βέλη, and Hom. Hymn 27.11–12, with τερϕθῆι and εὐϕρήνηι as
internal glosses on ἰοχέαιρα ∼ χαίρουσα τοῖς ἰοῖς. For χέω see also 21.492
(‘the one whose arrows are spilled’). For the alternative modern derivation
from χείρ, ‘hand’, see Hagen 2000.
429–30 take up 413, though the emphasis is now on trust, comfort and
love. In Near Eastern sources, rulers or gods are often said to be ‘like father
and mother’ to their people, cf. a Phoenician inscription from Sam’al in
northern Syria (Donner and Röllig 2002: 5 (n. 24), ll. 10–11): ‘but for some
I was a father, for some a mother, for some a brother’. The bilingual
Luwian/Phoenician Karatepe and Çineköy Inscriptions from south-eastern
Turkey (eighth/early seventh century BCE) describe rulers as ‘mother and
father’ to their subjects; cf. Lanfranchi 2007: 187, 195–6. For an Egyptian
example see Parkinson 1997: 61 (of a high Egyptian official); for
Mesopotamia see Foster 2005: 681, 683 (of the Babylonian god Marduk).
Andromache adapts this motif in order to describe an intimate relationship
of love, trust and affection; cf. Catullus 72.3–4: ‘I loved you not as any man
loves his girlfriend, but as a father loves his sons and his sons-in-law.’
Andromache's appeal to Hector is powerful and direct: because she has lost
all her family, she is now entirely dependent on him, cf. esp. 425–8n. See
Introduction 4.4.

429 Ἕκτορ, ἀτὰρ σύ: cf. 86n. Andromache finally calls Hector by name;
contrast 407n. (δαιμόνιε). On the simple and poignant form of her address
here see Wendel 1929: 63. σύ μοί ἐσσι: the first time the pronouns ‘you’ and
‘I’ are close together in the speech, cf. 407–13n. πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ:
cf. 413n., 429–30n.

430 ἠδὲ κασίγνητος: the progressive enjambment with ἠδέ (cf. 90n.) picks
up 421–4n., where Andromache describes the death of her brothers. σὺ δέ
μοι: cf. 429n. (σύ μοί ἐσσι). θαλερὸς παρακοίτης: a warm description of
Hector as Andromache's husband. The adjective θαλερός literally means
‘blooming’ (cf. θάλλω) and hence ‘young’, ‘full of vitality’; Andromache's
tears are later described as θαλερὸν…δάκρυ (496n.), but the word can have
happier connotations too: it is used, for example, of wives and husbands in
their prime (3.53, 8.156), and of the marriage between young partners
(θαλερὸς γάμος at Od. 6.66 and 20.74); see Schein 1976: 3 and 2002: 197.
παρακοίτης is a rare word for ‘husband’ which emphasises the emotional
bond between the partners; cf. Gates 1971: 19. It is used in contexts where
the perspective of the wife is important; cf. 8.156; and Hes. Theog. 928;
contrast 8.190, where Hector describes himself as Andromache's θαλερὸς
πόσις.

431 The line echoes 407 in ring composition but opens the possibility that
Hector might do the right thing, as Andromache sees it. ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν ἐλέαιρε:
appeals for pity do not usually start with the peremptory ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν, but
the phrasing fits Andromache's unique role as Hector's wife: it conveys her
feelings of dependence and need for pity but also expresses her confident
ease in addressing her husband. Paris and Helen have already tried to hold
back Hector, using similar language: ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν ἐπίμεινον (Paris to Hector:
340n.); ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε νῦν εἴσελθε καὶ ἕζεο (Helen to Hector: 354n.). Unlike the
others, Andromache manages to delay Hector, but only temporarily (515–
16n.): he will soon leave, although he feels pity for her (484n.). μίμν᾽ ἐπὶ
πύργωι: Andromache wants Hector to stay right where she has been: in the
next lines she tries to convey the impression that it is an excellent vantage
point from which to survey the battlefield and direct military operations. At
22.84–5 Hecuba, standing on the walls, tells Hector he should return inside
the city and join her.

432 The line corresponds to 408–9 and suggests that Hector behaves
exactly like the enemy; cf. 11.393–4, where Diomedes boasts that his spear
turns women into widows, and children into orphans. Andromache's control
over the war is limited to what she can persuade Hector to do or not to do;
so it is not surprising that, from her perspective, Hector is responsible for
the war and all its consequences, including her own bereavement:
Introduction 3.2. Hector later suggests that Andromache might rejoice in
the spoils of the enemy (481n.); but in her speech she does not distinguish
between killing and being killed and thus presents the war as a disastrous
male activity. Andromache not only makes an appeal for pity but also
suggests the possibility of blame: the moral obligation to look after widows
and orphans, particularly on the part of leaders, was keenly felt in ancient
Greece and the Near East (Hes. Op. 330; Solon T 10 Ruschenbusch; for
non-Greek sources, see e.g. Exodus 22:21–3; Deuteronomy 14:28–9. For
further sources and discussion see Fensham 1962 and Patterson 1973).
Andromache has explained that nobody will be in a position to look after
her when Hector dies, so she now holds him responsible for her future
(425–8n. and 429–30n.). Hector replies to this appeal when he
paradoxically states that he had rather be dead than see her widowed and
enslaved (464–5n.). ὀρϕανικόν: a rare word (cf. 11.394, 22.490), always of
the traumatic moment of bereavement. It is derived from ὀρϕανός, ‘orphan’,
also rare (Od. 20.68; Hes. Op. 330). θήηις: 2nd pers. aor. subj. of τίθημι.
χήρην: cf. 408n.

433–9 For ancient and modern reactions to Andromache's unconventional

suggestion, including the view that these lines are spurious, see Introduction
4.4. For Andromache's fear that the Achaeans may be acting on the advice
of a seer, see 438–9n.

433 λαὸν δὲ στῆσον: the details of Andromache's scheme remain unclear,

but there may be a suggestion that she wants Hector to use his people as a
shield for himself and his family. Such behaviour would be entirely
reprehensible: Homeric leaders are supposed to protect their λαός: 80n.,
214n., 222–3n. and 327n. Later, at 22.99–110, Hector decides to stay
outside the walls while the Trojan troops withdraw inside: he claims he has
lost too many men (ὤλεσα λαόν) and would rather face death on the
battlefield than blame inside the city. On Andromache's suggestion see
further Haubold 2000: 88–9. παρ᾽ ἐρινεόν: unlike the oak that also grows
near the walls of Troy (237n.), the fig tree is a symbol of impending defeat;
cf. Thornton 1984: 152–3; Tsagalis 2004: 125–6.

434 Andromache uses the technical language of siege warfare (ἄμβατος,

ἐπίδρομος) in an attempt to draw Hector into a military discussion, rather
than see him leave; cf. ΣbT ad 6.434b. According to Pindar, Ol. 8.31–46,
there was one vulnerable section of the Trojan walls, built by the mortal
Aeacus, rather than by Apollo and Poseidon. It is possible that this line
alludes to the same legend, or that the legend originated from this passage;
Kirk 1990: 218; ΣbT ad 6.438; and Introduction 3.3. On the text of the Iliad
becoming richer and more allusive in the course of time: Introduction 1.
ἄμβατος: a rare adjective that appropriately describes a tall structure (<
ἀναβαίνω; cf. Od. 11.316, of the Giants’ attempted conquest of heaven) but
is used also for other places that may offer specific openings (cf. Hes. Op.
681, of the sea). It seems that Aristarchus accentuated ἀμβατός, though the
majority of the manuscripts read ἄμβατος. For the ancient variant ἀμβατή,
cf. 266n. (ἀνίπτοισιν). ἐπίδρομον: only here in epic and rare in general; cf.
ἐπιδραμεῖν, ‘to storm forward, follow up’ after killing or wounding (4.524,
14.421), or when there is an opening (10.354, 18.527).

435 τρίς: when used in the context of battle narrative, the number three is
followed by success or failure at the fourth attempt; cf. 5.436–9, 16.702–6,
18.155–67, 20.445–8. For significant numbers, cf. 421n. γάρ: not a causal
explanation of what goes before but an additional reason; cf. 15n. τῆι γ᾽ ‘at
that particular point’; for γε cf. 16–17n. οἱ ἄριστοι: the article is used with
comparatives and superlatives, to single out a specific group, cf. Chantraine
1948–53: vol. II, 162.

436–7 Andromache's catalogue conjures the enemy before Hector's eyes

and lends weight to the suggestion that he should stay on the rampart and
direct operations from there. Each line mentions a pair of warriors and a
third name with epithet; the overall trajectory is from defence (Ajax) to
attack (Diomedes); cf. 5–36n., 5n. Achilles does not feature because he is
not fighting at all. Andromache's language resembles closely that of the
epic narrator, though the events she describes remain unconfirmed in the
main narrative. Some ancient readers thought that these lines contained ‘a
lie’ and disputed their authenticity, for further discussion: Introduction 4.4.

436 Cf. 15.301. ἀμϕ᾽: the preposition describes the group of soldiers led by
the two Ajaxes and emphasises cohesion; cf. LfgrE s.v. ἀμϕί B I 2. Αἴαντε
δύω: Telamonian Ajax (5n.) and Ajax son of Oïleus, from Locri. In the
Iliad they are often mentioned together, although they are unrelated and
come from different parts of Greece. Telamonian Ajax is the more
prominent of the two (cf. 2.527–9, 768). Ajax son of Oïleus acquires a more
individual profile towards the end of the Iliad (23.473–98 and 754–97) and,
especially, during the sack of Troy and the journey home of the Achaeans,
where he offends Athena and perishes as a result (Iliou Persis and Nostoi in
Proclus, Chrestomathy, pp. 146 and 154 West; Od. 4.499–511). Together,
the two Ajaxes are particularly effective in defence and counter-attack:
12.265–77, 13.46–84, 701–18, etc. The dual Αἴαντε appears originally to
have referred to Telamonian Ajax and his half-brother Teucer (31n.); see
Wackernagel 1953; Page 1959: 235–8; and Nappi 2002. ἀγακλυτὸν
Ἰδομενῆα = Od. 14.237; cf. Od. 21.295, 24.103 and the common formula
Ἰδομενεὺς δουρικλυτός. The epithet ἀγακλυτός is used only here in the Iliad
but is common in the Odyssey; cf. ἀγακλειτός at Il. 2.564 etc. Compared
with the metrically equivalent ἀρήϊον Ἰδομενῆα (11.501), Andromache's
phrase emphasises glory rather than danger; and it may therefore suggest to
Hector that he could pursue glory and stay on the walls.

437 ἠδ᾽: cf. 90n. Ἀτρείδας: cf. 44n. Τυδέος ἄλκιμον υἱόν: cf. 11.605
Μενοιτίου ἄλκιμος υἱός, etc.: a standard formulation; only here of Diomedes,
but cf. the common Τυδέος υἱόν et sim. (96n.). When father and son are
mentioned in formulae of this kind, only one of the two tends to have an
epithet: in the case of Tydeus and Diomedes, it is normally Tydeus who
receives further emphasis (4.370 etc.); but Andromache wants to emphasise
the threat posed by Diomedes; cf. 96–8n., 98n., 100–1n.

438–9 Andromache adds a further thought about the situation, openly

wondering whether the Achaeans have been instructed by a seer, or whether
they are acting on their own instincts. Hector himself was instructed by the
seer Helenos to go to Troy and organise a ritual offering for Athena (86–
98n.), though we know that that offering failed (311n.). Andromache's final
question seems designed to engage Hector in a discussion of what the
Achaeans are planning outside the wall and thus persuade him to look out
from the rampart; it also adds to the sense of foreboding that pervades book
6. In early epic several prophecies predict the fall of Troy: 2.299–330 (esp.
322, θεοπροπέων), Od. 8.73–82; Cypria and Little Iliad in Proclus,
Chrestomathy, pp. 72 and 120 West. This passage makes the audience view
such prophecies from Andromache's perspective.

438 ἤ που: Andromache speculates; cf. LfgrE s.v. ποῦ, που B 2 b θ.

ἔνισπε: aorist of ἐν(ν)έπω, ‘tell, announce’; used of important matters, often
concerning the gods. θεοπροπίων εὖ εἰδώς: θεοπρόπιον (more commonly in
the form θεοπροπίη) usually describes a divine message known to and
conveyed by a seer (μάντις); cf. 1.85. For the construction (εἰδέναι with
genitive = ‘to understand, have knowledge of’), see, e.g., 12.228–9, Od.
1.202; and LfgrE s.v. οἶδα B 2 b β. The alternative reading θεοπροπέων (<
*θεοπροπέω) does not command support: it is weakly attested, and the verb
θεοπροπέω is always construed with a form of ἀγορεύω in Homer; cf.
1.109, 2.322, Od. 2.184.

439 ∼ 15.43. ἤ νυ καί: the use of καί suggests that this is a weak alternative
to Andromache's first explanation. Contrast 2.367–8, where divine will is
the secondary explanation (εἰ καί). αὐτῶν ‘their own’. ΣAT ad loc. report an
ancient variant αὐτούς, which weakens the contrast between lines 438 and
439. θυμὸς ἐποτρύνει καὶ ἀνώγει: formulaic at the end of the line; the verbs
often describe the actions of a god or a leader. For θυμός, cf. 51n. and 444n.;
for ἐποτρύνει see 83n.; for ἀνώγει = ‘commands’ (present tense); see
Stoevesandt 2008: 141.

440–65 A traditional, formal line introduces Hector's reply (440n.), which

is itself – in the opening section – formal and conventional (441–6n.).
Rather than lingering on the thought of future fame, as Helen had invited
him to do (357–8n.), Hector then considers the fall of Troy, and its
consequences for those he loves, and especially for Andromache – the
person for whom he cares the most. The shift in focus from himself to
Andromache is marked by Hector's use of pronouns: 441 (ἐμοί), 444 (με),
446 (ἐμὸν αὐτοῦ), 447 (ἐγώ), 450 (μοι), 454 (σεῖ᾽), 462 (σοί), 464 (με), 465
(σῆς, σοῦ). He envisages Andromache's future as a slave and as a living
memorial to his glory (454–63n.), and then he breaks down, claiming that
he had rather be dead than see Andromache dragged into slavery: 464–5n.
On this speech, see Introduction 4.4 and, for its structure, Lohmann 1970:
96–101 and 1988: 34–45.

440 There is no formal conclusion to Andromache's speech (cf. 144n.).

This conventional line introduces Hector's reply; cf. 263n., and 359n.
κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ: the expression already featured five times in book 6:
116n., 263, 342, 359 and 369. Hector's helmet is about to become the focus
of attention: 472–3n.; see further Introduction 2.2.

441–6 Hector shares Andromache's concerns (441n.) but now lists his own
reasons for returning to the battlefield: his sense of shame (441–3); the
possibility of blame (note the opposition between κακός (443n.) and ἐσθλός
(444n.)); his instinct and training (444–5); and his desire to win glory for
his father and himself (446n.). These are all conventional motivations for
fighting, but Hector presents them in a way that is characteristic of him: his
sense of duty and responsibility towards his people and his father, as king
of Troy, emerge clearly. He also suggests that he has learnt to be brave: his
determination to fight is not just a matter of temperament but of social
conditioning. On Hector's character, see Schadewaldt 1970, Erbse 1979,
Redfield 1994, de Romilly 1997; and cf. esp. 442n. (αἰδέομαι).

441 ∼ 5.490 (Sarpedon chides Hector). ἦ: the particle, prominently placed

at the beginning of the line, expresses Hector's lively reaction to
Andromache's speech; cf. 215n. (ἦ ῥά νύ μοι). καὶ ἐμοί: 440–65n. τάδε
πάντα is a vague acknowledgement of what Andromache has been saying:
Hector does not discuss her suggestions in detail. μέλει covers a wide range
of meaning, from ‘caring about’ to ‘taking care of’. In combination with
forms of πᾶς, μέλω is used of people or gods who take charge of all aspects
of an operation; cf., e.g., 5.430 (Ares and Athena); 5.490 (Hector); 23.724
(Zeus); Od. 6.65 (Nausicaa). Hector's dilemma in Iliad 6 is reflected in his
shifting use of the verb: he ‘cares about’ Andromache above all others
(450n. μέλει); yet he must also ‘take care of’ the war (492–3n.: μελήσει).
γύναι: Hector addresses Andromache as a woman and a wife (γυνή means
both: Gates 1971: 17); and he does not discuss her idiosyncratic views
about the deployment of troops (cf. 433–9n. and esp. ΣbT ad 6.433: ‘not
fitting for a woman, but fitting for Andromache’). Cf. 264n. (where Hector
addresses Hecuba as his mother) and 293n. (on the use of her proper name).
ἀλλὰ μάλ᾽ αἰνῶς = 10.38, 19.23, 22.454, where it is followed by δείδω, ‘I
fear’, in the next line. Here Hector continues by saying ‘I am ashamed’, but
the sentiment is close to fear of judgement; for fear and shame, cf., e.g.,
24.435–6 and Od. 17.188–9.

442 = 22.105. The line is characteristic of Hector, who often views himself
through the eyes of the community. Here he assumes that the men and
women of Troy will judge him exactly in the same way (cf. 481n.), though
many passages in book 6 suggest that male and female perspectives on war
differ significantly: see Introduction 3.2 and 4.4. αἰδέομαι: the feeling of
shame, αἰδώς, is ‘a responsiveness to social situations and to the judgment
of others’ (Redfield 1994: 115), and hence an awareness of social standards
on the part of the individual: Cairns 1993: 139–46. It primarily inhibits
behaviour that may attract blame (‘αἰδώς prevents me from doing x’). For
Hector as the ‘hero of αἰδώς᾽, see Redfield 1994: 119; cf. Cairns 1993: 79–
83. αἰδώς is often mentioned in conjunction with ἔλεος (e.g. 24.44–5),
though in this context Hector feels a sharp contrast between Andromache's
need for pity (407n., 431n.), and his sense of shame before the people of
Troy; on ἔλεος and αἰδώς see further Karp 1994; and Crotty 1994: ch. 3.
Τρῶας καὶ Τρωιάδας: Hector repeatedly refers to ‘the men and women of
Troy’: 7.297, 22.105. They in turn look to him for help and support; cf.
22.433–4, 514, 24.215–16 and 704–6. ἑλκεσιπέπλους: probably ‘of the
trailing robe’ (thus ΣADT ad 6.442; van Wees 2005: 7–8) rather than
‘drawing up the[ir] robe’ as tentatively suggested in LfgrE s.v.
ἑλκεσίπεπλ(ος), and Stoevesandt 2008: 143; for a similar epithet, cf.
εἰνατέρων ἐϋπέπλων at 378n.

443 Hector does not oppose his own views to those of Andromache but
rather appeals to the opinions of others. κακὸς ὥς: the opposite of ἀγαθός or
ἐσθλός (444n.); cf. 2.190, 8.94, with Adkins 1960: 31–40; LfgrE s.v. κακός B
1. For Hector's concern that he may be considered κακός see 17.180,
24.214–16 (Hecuba recalls the valour of her dead son); cf. also 22.106,
where Hector imagines a lesser person (κακώτερος) criticising him. Later in
his encounter with Andromache, Hector will let go of this distinction and
point out that both the good man (ἐσθλός) and the bad one (κακός) are
subject to fate: 489n. The second syllable of κακός is measured long: the
original consonant before ὥς (*yōs, only when postponed) is still felt; see
M. L. West 1997b: 229; contrast 295n. νόσϕιν…πολέμοιο: to Andromache,
the fighting seemed very near, as she stood on the rampart (436–7n.); now
Hector describes the same location as ‘far from the war’. ἀλυσκάζω: a rare
intensive form of ἀλύσκω, ‘avoid’. In the Iliad this verb suggests
cowardice; contrast simple ἀλύσκω/ἀλεείνω (167n., 202n.).

444 οὐδέ με θυμὸς ἄνωγεν: the θυμός usually impels warriors forward, and
into action (51n., 439n.); Hecuba speculated that Hector's θυμός made him
return to Troy (256n.); Hector, by contrast, told Helen that his θυμός urged
him to join his men on the battlefield (361–2). Now he makes the negative
claim that his θυμός fails to recommend caution; this contorted statement is
unparalleled in the Iliad: it suggests that Hector is at pains to seem
reasonable rather than impulsive and may be influenced by αἰδώς, which
also inhibits action (442n.). For με, see 440–65n. ἐπεὶ μάθον ἔμμεναι ἐσθλός:
Hector shifts the emphasis from his instincts to what he has learned. ΣAbT
ad 6.444b comment that ‘the virtues can be learned’ but prefer to gloss
μάθον (‘I have learned’) with εἴωθα (‘I am accustomed to’): ancient readers
saw the line as making a controversial point about nature and nurture. The
verb μαθεῖν (only in the aorist) is rare in epic and is close in meaning to
English ‘internalise’ (i.e. learn and make one's own). For ἐσθλός see 443n.

445 αἰεί: the Homeric scholar Nicanor (second century CE) rightly took this
word with line 444 (ΣbT ad 6.445b; cf. ΣA ad 6.445a) rather than μάχεσθαι,
thus preserving one of the most significant cases of enjambment in Homer.
‘Always’ being best is a core precept in Homeric battlefield pedagogy
(208n.), but it is unlikely to reassure Andromache; cf. 407n., 460n. καὶ
πρώτοισι…μάχεσθαι: another cliché, typically invoked in direct speech, as
characters remind one another of their obligations in battle: e.g. 4.340–55,
12.310–21. Hector is eminently susceptible to that kind of pressure.

446 Winning glory, κλέος, is another standard motivation for fighting, cf.
Redfield 1994: 30–5. What is typical of Hector is that he thinks about his
father's κλέος as well as his own; for examples of κλέος as a family concern,
see Scodel 2008a: 23–4. Throughout this opening section Hector
emphasises his duty to do what others expect of him: 441–6n. For κλέος (cf.
κλύω, ‘listen’) and epic poetry, see Introduction 1. ἀρνύμενος ‘trying to
secure’, typically on behalf of somebody else. The genitives πατρὸς…ἠδ᾽
ἐμὸν αὐτοῦ suggest the added nuance of ‘preserving’ something that already
belongs to Priam and Hector (cf. Od. 1.5); contrast the datives of advantage
at 1.159 and 5.552–3. μέγα κλέος: in the Iliad this phrase (as opposed to the
more common κλέος ἐσθλόν) describes major, glorious events: 11.21–2,
17.129–31; in the Odyssey μέγα κλέος is much more frequent; cf. also Hes.
fr. 199.9 MW.

447–9 A simple, truthful and devastating statement; Agamemnon predicts

the fall of Troy in the same words at 4.163–5; for the different effect of the
two statements, see Kirk 1990: 220; and Di Benedetto 1998: 184–7. Hector
answers Andromache's suggestions and fears about a possible prophecy
(438–9n.), by confronting her with his certainty that Troy will fall; see
Tsagalis 2004: 126–7. For his line of thought, cf. 447n. (γάρ). In the next
section he sets out the implications of the fall of Troy for his family (450–
3n.), for Andromache (454–63n.) and finally for himself (464–5n). He
opened his speech by stating that he would behave like a warrior (441–6n.);
and he ends it by claiming that he wants to die before Andromache is
enslaved (464–5n.)

447 = 4.163, Od. 15.211; cf., e.g., Il. 20.264. εὖ…οἶδα picks up ἐῢ εἰδώς at
438n.; Hector does not need to speculate about what the Achaeans have
been told about Troy; the basic truth is that the city is doomed. γάρ ‘for’.
Hector's train of thought seems to be: ‘I must fight because Troy is bound to
fall’ (Taplin 1992: 123–4; see also Görgemanns 2001: 116); cf. Sarpedon,
who claims he must fight in the first line of battle because he knows he is
going to die: 12.322–8, esp. 326 γάρ. The variant reading μέν is not well
attested, though some editors prefer it because they find γάρ difficult to
explain (cf. M. L. West 2001a: 199). ἐγώ: Hector's statement, as well as
being the plain truth, concerns him first and foremost. κατὰ ϕρένα καὶ κατὰ
θυμόν: cf., e.g., 5.671, 8.169, and many passages in the Odyssey. For ϕρένα,
see 61n. For Hector's θυμός, cf. 444n.

448–9 For this description of Troy in terms of the ‘sacred city, the king and
his people’, cf. 4.46–7, 164–5; and [Plato] Alc. II 149d. ὀλώληι: intransitive
perf. subjunctive (Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 424–6) of transitive ὄλλυμι,
‘destroy’. Ἴλιος ἱρή: 96n. λαὸς…Πριάμοιο: the people of Troy, not just the
‘army’; cf. LfgrE s.v. λαός B 1 a α. ἐϋμμελίω ‘of the good spear’ (εὖ + μελίη),
the nominative is unattested, for the genitive in -ω (< -ᾱο) see Chantraine
1948–53: vol. I, 64–5. ἐϋ- is disyllabic in this word, and is scanned ∪ –. The
Homeric manuscripts and papyri seem to prefer the spelling with double μμ,
without, however, achieving full consistency, see West's apparatus ad 4.47,
165; cf. 45n. (ἐλίσσετο).

450–3 Hector considers the consequences of the fall of Troy for those he
loves. He starts with the people of Troy (450n.); then he mentions his
parents (451n.) and his brothers (452–3n.), and finally the person dearest to
him: Andromache (454–63n.). His affection for her finds expression
through a priamel, ‘a series of detached statements which through contrast
or comparison lead up to the idea with which the speaker is primarily
concerned’ (Fraenkel 1950: 407–8, n. 3). Hector slowly comes to declare
his feelings for Andromache: ‘the priamel provides a measure of intensity
that the mere statement of fact would otherwise lack’ (Race 1982: 42). It
also suggests that Hector can focus on Andromache only after he has
imagined himself fulfilling the expectations of the community (441–6n.),
and after that community has ceased to exist. His statement here
corresponds to Andromache's description of the fall of Thebes and the death
of her family (414–28n. and esp. 429–30n.) though Andromache speaks
about her own grief (413n.: ἀλλ᾽ ἄχε᾽), while Hector talks about his care for
the pain (450n.: ἄλγος) of those he loves. On the correspondence between
the two speeches, see further Schadewaldt 1997: 135–6; Lohmann 1988:
40–1; and Introduction 4.4.

450 Hector eventually reveals that he cares for Andromache more than for
the Trojans; contrast 361n. and 362n., where he declines Helen's invitation
to stay because the Trojans long for him to return to the battlefield. ἀλλ᾽
introduces the first statement in the priamel, cf. 464n. (ἀλλά): after outlining
what is expected of him (441–6n.), Hector turns to his own feelings. οὐ…
τόσσον: the rhetorical build-up (οὐ…οὔτ᾽…οὔτε…οὔτε) reaches its climax
with the runover ὅσσον σεῖ᾽ at 454n. μοι: cf. 440–65n. Τρώων: subjective
genitive, ‘of the Trojans’; it is unusual for someone to care about somebody
else's ἄλγος in early epic; but it is characteristic of Hector. μέλει: here
primarily in the sense of ‘caring about’; cf. 441n. (μέλει). ἄλγος: acute
hardship, pain or grief, largely seen as an objective given, in contrast with
Andromache's preferred term ἄχος (413n.; cf. 486n.), which refers to a
person's subjective response to difficulties; see Mawet 1979: 387–8;
Rijksbaron 1992; Cingano 2002–3: 60–2. The noun ἄλγος is thematic in the
Iliad (1.2 etc., with Holmes 2007) and in heroic epic more generally (cf.
formulaic ἄλγεα πάσχειν/-ων). In the context of social relationships, it is
often used of the suffering caused to dependants by the loss of someone
who cares for them: e.g. leader and people (22.54–5), son and parents
(22.52–3), husband and wife (462–3, 24.742, Od. 21.87–8). Hector is
thinking about his own death, and the pain it will cause to the Trojans; cf.
462n., 463n.

451 Hector now thinks about his very own mother, and Priam the king. The
cause of their pain (ἄλγος: 450n.) is not openly stated, but the end of the
poem dramatises their terrible suffering when Hector faces Achilles (22.25–
91) and dies (esp. 22.405–36). αὐτῆς: Hector cares deeply for his mother,
but Andromache is even more important to him: 454n. His train of thought
here corresponds to his actual progress through the city: first he meets his
mother (242–85), and finally his wife (369–502). Πριάμοιο ἄνακτος:
formulaic in this position, elsewhere always in combination with ἄστυ or
πόλις: here too the city has just been mentioned (448–9n.).

452–3 Priam laments the death of his sons at 24.255–60 and 493–8. Mestor
and Troilos died before the narrative of the Iliad begins; ten more of
Hector's brothers are killed in the course of the poem (Wöhrle 1999: 75, n.
5); then Hector himself dies – and his death comes to symbolise the fall of
Troy: 22.410–11. For Priam's fifty sons, see 244n. οὔτε: cf. 450n. πολέες τε
καὶ ἐσθλοί: cf. 24.166–8 (Priam's daughters and daughters-in-law grieve for
their slain men, who are πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί); and 24.204–5 ∼ 520–1 (the
sons of Priam slain by Achilles are πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί). Only once in the
Iliad is the phrase πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί used of living men, and there it
describes a group of Achaean warriors: 4.298. ἐν κονίηισι πέσοιεν = 23.437,
cf., e.g., 15.423. ὑπ᾽: Hector's brothers will be killed ‘by’, ‘at the hands of’
the enemy. For this use of ὑπό with the dative, cf., e.g., 5.646, 13.98; with
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 141; and George 2005: 63–4. ἀνδράσι
δυσμενέεσσιν: the phrase is formulaic at the beginning of the line; there are
two Odyssean parallels at the end of the line: Od. 3.90 and 22.234. The
word δυσμενής (hostile, enemy) is highly partisan and occurs only in direct
speech (Il. 22.403 is the one exception but is an example of embedded
focalisation).

454–63 Now Hector contemplates the worst: images of Andromache's

future overlap and the syntax becomes loose. Her captivity is introduced by
ὅτε at 454, followed by a subjunctive (ἄγηται: 455n.). Two parenthetic
main clauses in the optative follow: they are introduced by καί κεν in
anaphora (456, 457). A third καί, with ποτε, refers back to ὅτε (454) and
returns to the subjunctive: the sequence is framed by Andromache's tears, in
ring composition. Hector spares Andromache (and himself) any detail about
her relationship to a future master, cf. ΣbT ad 6.457b; the two parenthetic
sentences (456n. and 457n.) outline what she will have to do for a mistress.
Overt references to forced sex are avoided, but that particular threat is
implied by πόλλ᾽ ἀεκαζομένη (458n., cf. ἑλκηθμοῖο at 465n.). Hector then
imagines that somebody will see Andromache's tears and recognise her as
the former wife of Hector, best of the Trojan warriors, at the time when they
fought over Troy. Hector is especially prone to stating what people might
say of him and, more generally, to taking seriously the expectations of
others; for his other τις-speeches cf. 479n., 7.87–91, 22.106–10; with de
Jong 1987b: 76–9; Mackie 1996: 98–9; Beck 2008: 168–70. Usually, the
opinion of an imagined speaker influences Hector's behaviour, though the
situation here is more complicated, because the anonymous speaker
comments on Andromache's plight (459n.) and elicits a response from her
(462n.). For Andromache as a memorial to Hector, see Scodel 1992a: 59.
For a comparative example, see ‘The Kosovo Girl’, in Karadžić 1953, no.
51: the Serbian heroes give an item of their clothing or jewellery to a girl,
who thus becomes a living memorial for them after they die. In her own
speech Andromache saw her fate as intertwined with Hector's (see esp.
407–13n.); now Hector cannot disentangle his future glory from her
suffering. At the end of his speech Hector no longer appeals to duty or glory
as reasons for fighting but rather claims it is Andromache's future suffering
that drives him to death: 464–5n. Easterling 1991 discusses some
connections between female suffering and male glory.

454 ὅσσον σεῖ᾽: the culmination of Hector's priamel (450–3n.), underlined

by the opening spondee. In early Greek epic the form σεῖ᾽ with elision is
attested only here and at Hom. Hymn 1 D 10 West; for contracted, unelided
σεῦ, see 409n. τις Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων: some Achaean man will take
possession of Andromache and replace Hector; cf. 1.112–15, where
Agamemnon assesses the physical and mental accomplishments of his slave
Chryseis and declares her better than his own wife. For Neoptolemos as
Andromache's new master, see Little Iliad, frr. 29–30 West; and Iliou Persis
in Proclus, Chrestomathy, p. 146 West. The adjective χαλκοχίτων suggests
that the heroes are warriors whose very garments are made of bronze (a
χιτών is usually made of cloth: Marinatos 1967: 7–9), or whose armour is
like a garment; on bronze as the metal of heroes, see 3n. In the Iliad the
epithet χαλκοχίτων is used most often of the Achaeans; in other early
hexameter poems it is used exclusively of them and is associated
specifically with the Trojan War (Od. 1.286, 4.496; cf. Hes. fr. 165.14
MW). ΣT ad 11.805a1 disparage the phrase Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων as
‘cyclic’, i.e. commonplace. For the possible connections between the
epithet and Mycenaean armour, cf. Kirk 1990: 66–7.

455 δακρυόεσσαν: at the beginning of the line the adjective is used

predicatively and means ‘in tears’ (cf., e.g., 16.10, 18.66); at the end of the
line it is used as an attribute, ‘grievous’, esp. of ‘war’ or ‘battle’.
Andromache is already crying (405n.). ἄγηται: cf. 291n. (ἤγαγε); for the
subjunctive cf. 454–63n. ἐλεύθερον ἦμαρ ἀπούρας = 16.831, 20.193, of
captive women; cf. ἀμύνειν δούλιον ἦμαρ: 463n., with Raaflaub 1981: 188–
9. The adjective ἐλεύθερος is rare in early epic and occurs mostly in this
phrase (LfgrE s.v. ἐλεύθερος*), though see 528n. for a different usage.
Homeric words related to freedom emphasise one's ties with one's family
and people. The opposite is slavery, which severs those ties; cf. Jacquinod
1992. ἀπούρας < ἀπόϝρας, participle of ἀπηύρα: 16–17n.

456 καί κεν takes up ὅτε κεν at 454, but without referring to a specific point
in the future. ἐν Ἄργει ἐοῦσα: the land of the Achaeans, rather than any
specific location in Thessaly or the Peloponnese; cf. 152n.; Kirk 1990: 221.
For ‘Argive Helen’, cf. 323n.; in Euripides’ Andromache, Helen's daughter
Hermione becomes Andromache's mistress. πρὸς ἄλλης: for πρός with a
noun in the genitive = ‘on behalf of’, ‘at the command of’, cf. 1.238–9, and
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 134. ἱστὸν ὑϕαίνοις ∼ 3.125 (of Helen), Od.
15.517, etc. Captive women who could weave were prized possessions; cf.
1.31, 290n. (τάς). For the optative, see 454–63n.

457 καί κεν: 454–63n., 456n. The repetition expresses Hector's tortured
frame of mind as he contemplates the details of Andromache's future. ὕδωρ
ϕορέοις: this is the task of female servants (Od. 3.427–9, 10.358; cf. Il.
24.302–4) or young girls (e.g. Od. 10.105–8; Hom. Hymn 2.105–10);
mistresses of the house do not do it. ΣA ad 6.457a point out that later
authors took their cue from this line and portrayed Andromache carrying
water; cf. Eur. Andr. 166–7. For the optative see 454–63n. Μεσσηΐδος ἢ
Ὑπερείης: names of springs are feminine. Ancient and modern readers have
speculated about the precise location of these springs (Strabo 9.5.6 and 18;
Pausanias 3.20.1), but geographical accuracy is hardly what matters to
Hector, and Kirk 1990: 221–2 rightly points out that the names are generic
(‘Middle Spring’ and ‘Upper Spring’): Andromache's forced labour could
take place anywhere in the land of the Argives. For Ὑπέρεια, cf. 2.734–5
and Pind. Pyth. 4.125. ἤ: 341n. (ἢ ἴθ᾽).

458 πόλλ᾽ ἀεκαζομένη ∼ Od. 13.277; Hom. Hymn 2.344 and 432. The verb
*ἀεκάζομαι (only attested in the present participle) expresses a strong
resistance or extreme reluctance, often in the context of violent abduction;
cf. esp. Persephone in Hom. Hymn 2.30, 344 and 432. For the intensifying
combination with πολλά (adverbial) compare ἤϊε πόλλ᾽ ἀέκων at 11.557 ∼
17.666. κρατερὴ δ᾽ ἐπικείσετ᾽ ἀνάγκη ∼ Od. 10.273; Hom. Hymn 5.130, of
characters confronted with a terrible fate. The Trojans have already
confronted ‘necessity’ at the beginning of the book: 85n.

459 ∼ 479n., 7.87, etc. The line introduces an anonymous ‘τις-speech’; for
Hector's repeated references to what others might say, cf. 454–63n. καί ποτε
takes up καί κεν at 456n., 457n., but with a clearer reference to a specific
time in the future. εἴπηισιν: subjunctive, cf. 454–63n., 479n. The later future
ἐρέει makes the speech seem even more real: cf. 462n. West believes that the
Homeric spelling was εἴπησιν (cf. πίησι on the Ischia cup), but the
transmitted form εἴπηισιν may be old, see Peters 1998: 594–6. ἰδών is
traditional in this position; elsewhere the speaker turns to his addressee and
looks at him (cf., e.g., Il. 2.271, 4.81). For τις-speeches responding to a
specific sight, cf., e.g., 4.79–81, 22.370–2. κατὰ δάκρυ χέουσαν:
Andromache is already crying (405n.); so Hector imagines an Achaean man
witnessing what he already sees in front of his eyes; see also 455n.

460–1 [Plutarch], On Homer II, ch. 215, perceptively calls the lines an
epigram; see also ΣbT ad 6.460b; Vox 1975: 70; Hillgruber 1994–9: vol. II,
434–5; and Elmer 2005. Epigrams typically adorned funerary monuments.
The speaker praises Hector for his actions (460n. ἀριστεύεσκε μάχεσθαι),
thus offering confirmation that Hector should now return to the battlefield
(441–6n.). For a close parallel, cf. 7.89–90. Andromache functions as a
σῆμα, a living memorial of Hector's past achievements in war (418–19n. ἠδ᾽
ἐπὶ σῆμ᾽ ἔχεεν) – but the problem is that Hector's prowess only adds to her
pain (462n.). Hector finds it impossible to contemplate Andromache's
suffering and effectively chooses death as his escape route (464–5n.).

460 Ἕκτορος ἥδε γυνή: Andromache is described as the wife of Hector and
hence in terms of her Trojan past. Hector has just addressed her with γύναι
(441n.), so his words and views tally with those of the anonymous speaker.
Here, as throughout his speech, Hector points out to Andromache that his
decision to fight is not his own personal choice, but a socially sanctioned
response to the war – one shared not just by the Trojans but also by the
Achaean man who comments on Andromache's tears. For this type of
phrase in funerary epigrams, cf. 7.89 (ἀνδρὸς μὲν τόδε σῆμα), and see Elmer
2005: 5, with n. 13; and 7–8. ὃς ἀριστεύεσκε μάχεσθαι = 11.746, 16.292,
551, 17.351, always of a warrior who has died in battle; cf. 208n. Here the
expression harks back to 444–5.

461 Τρώων ἱπποδάμων: a typical addition in progressive enjambment. The

formula is common in the Iliad but unattested elsewhere; ἱππόδαμοι in the
plural only of the Trojans (with one exception: Hes. fr. 35.8 MW); in the
singular it can characterise warriors on either side, cf. 299n. Horses need
plains (Od. 4.601–8, cf. ῎Αργεος ἱπποβότοιο: 152n.), so it is appropriate that
the epithet characterises the Trojans who live on a plain. The Trojan horses
are famous (e.g. 5.221–5 ∼ 8.105–8, 16.383–93); esp. those of Erichthonius
(20.221–9), Tros (5.263–73) and Laomedon (5.640; Hes. frr. 43a.64 and
165.10–11 MW). Hector himself is remembered as ἱππόδαμος in the last
line of the Iliad; for Andromache's special care for his horses, see 8.186–90.
ὅτε Ἴλιον ἀμϕεμάχοντο: cf. 329n. (ἀμϕιδέδηε).

462 Speech-concluding line which, unusually, focuses on the reaction of

the person mentioned in the speech (Andromache), rather than on the
person who imagined that the speech would be uttered (Hector). ὥς ποτέ τις
ἐρέει = 4.182, 7.91; cf. 22.108. The future tense picks up the previous
subjunctive and makes the speech seem more real with hindsight, as Hector
contemplates its terrifying implications; cf. Od. 6.275 (subj.) with 285
(fut.). Willmott 2007: 64 argues against a distinction between the
subjunctive and the future in this passage, but whereas Homer uses the
future both to introduce and round off hypothetical speeches (e.g. 4.176 and
182), he uses the subjunctive only to introduce such speeches, never to
round them off. For Homeric speakers warming to their own scenarios, cf.
22.106 (lest they say, subj.) and 108 (thus they will speak, fut.), and Od.
21.324 with 329. For subtle shifts in emphasis through ring composition, cf.
Introduction 2.3. σοὶ δ᾽ αὖ νέον ἔσσεται ἄλγος: another prediction in the
future indicative, echoing ἄλγος at 450n., in ring composition. For δ᾽ αὖ
expressing a weak contrast see Klein 1988: 256–8. νέον is usually an
adverb, though is more naturally taken as an adjective here.

463 χήτει ‘for lack of’. The word is used rarely, only in the dative. It
features only in direct speech and is highly emotional: it speaks of
desolation and bereavement; cf. 19.324 with Di Benedetto 1998: 311; Od.
16.34–5; Hom. Hymn 3.78; Hes. Theog. 605. τοιοῦδ᾽ ἀνδρός: Hector
describes himself as a great man, but in the context of failing to save
Andromache from slavery. Typically, Hector has high aspirations but is also
keenly aware of his own shortcomings. ἀμύνειν δούλιον ἦμαρ ‘who can ward
off slavery’; cf., e.g., 11.484, 588, 13.514. For the infinitive after
demonstrative pronoun, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 302. Hector casts
himself in the role of the defender, cf. his words at 12.243, as well as
Priam's remembrance speech at 24.499–501. For δούλιον ἦμαρ, cf. Od.
14.340, 17.323; there are many similar expressions with adjective + ἦμαρ:
they mark a dramatic change in somebody's life; cf. 455n. (ἐλεύθερον ἦμαρ).

464–5 Hector's concluding lines are as unconventional as the conclusion to

Andromache's speech. Both partners fail to return to their opening
statements: Andromache started her speech with her need for pity (407n.)
and ends it by giving strategic advice, and speculating about the military
intelligence of the Achaeans (433–9n., 438–9n.). Hector began with his
sense of honour, courage and quest for fame (441–6n.); but now he claims
that he had rather die than witness Andromache's suffering. She ends her
speech by offering practical suggestions for action; he finishes on a note of
resignation and defeat. Both speeches defy conventional gender roles, and
Hector later tries to restore them: 490–3n. Hector's final answer to
Andromache is devastating in its simplicity: he had rather die – not despite
her suffering, but because of it. For an excellent reading of these lines, see
Mirto 1997: 983–4.

464 ἀλλά marks a final turning point in Hector's speech; cf. 450n. με:
Hector has not referred to himself in the first person since 450n. (μοι). For
the use of personal pronouns in the speech see 440–65n. τεθνειῶτα: for the
form in ει cf. 71n. (νεκροὺς…τεθνειῶτας). χυτὴ κατὰ γαῖα καλύπτοι: cf.
Andromache's own death wish at 410–11n. Hector's words are more
concrete (χυτὴ…γαῖα = ‘burial mound’), and indeed he alone faces an
imminent death. The verb καλύπτω is elsewhere used of burial (see the
close verbal parallel at 14.114), and of death and darkness more generally
(cf. 11n.); it also frequently describes a protective covering, either before or
after death, cf., e.g., 5.23, 11.752, 24.20; see further Bremer 1976: 66–73.
Hector combines these different associations: for him, the earth is not only a
resting place after death but also a shield against the suffering of
Andromache. For the earth as a refuge in funeral laments, see Tsagalis
2004: 119.

465 πρίν γέ τι: γε emphasises the preceding πρίν, cf. 16–17n. (γε). τι
further emphasises Hector's revulsion: he insists that he must die before
Andromache becomes a slave. The variant reading πρίν γ᾽ ἔτι, adopted by
West, seems less effective rhetorically; see also Stoevesandt 2008: 148.
σῆς…σοῦ: cf. 440–65n. ἑλκηθμοῖο: the noun (< ἕλκω) occurs only here in
early epic, but the idea of ‘dragging’ women into captivity is attested
elsewhere in the Iliad (22.62, 65) and in the epic cycle (esp. Iliou Persis in
Proclus, Chrestomathy, p. 146 West, where Ajax drags away Cassandra, and
the statue of Athena to which she clings). It has clear connotations of sexual
violence, cf. εἷλκες at Lysias 1.12.

466–81 At the end of his speech to Andromache, Hector had wished for
death as the only escape from future suffering (464–5n.); now, as he reaches
for his child, his mood changes. Children embody the hopes of their
parents, and Hector now hopes that Astyanax will grow up good and strong
and continue to be a source of happiness for his mother (for the difficulties
involved in his wish, cf. esp. 481n.). The audience, however, know that his
prayer is destined to remain unanswered: another soldier (Neoptolemos in
Little Iliad, frr. 18 and 29 West; Odysseus in Iliou Persis, p. 146 West) will
snatch Astyanax from his nurse's bosom, lift him up and throw him off the
walls (cf. 467n. and 474n.). Some scholars have argued that the poet of the
Iliad did not know what would happen to Astyanax (Kullmann 1960: 186–
7), but this seems overly sceptical, especially in view of 24.734–8, where
Andromache fears that some Achaean will hurl Astyanax off the bastion
(ἀπὸ πύργου), with Burgess 2001: 65–7. Some later accounts of Astyanax's
death also mention the bastion (Paus. 10.25.9; Quintus of Smyrna 13.252),
though others mention the walls more generally (Eur. Andr. 10 and Tro.
725; Apοllod. Epit. 5.23), cf. 474n. The possibility of domestic happiness,
which glimmers briefly in his passage, is set against the fall of Troy and the
brutal death of Astyanax – but the language of war is also used here to
comic effect: Astyanax beats a retreat into the arms of his nurse. The
episode is designed to elicit a smile, even before the audience hear that
Hector and Andromache are laughing too. Andromache's own feelings, as
Hector returns Astyanax to her, reflect the complex emotions dramatised in
the encounter: δακρυόεν γελάσασα (484n.). On the episode see also
Schadewaldt 1997: 136–9; Lohmann 1988: 47; and Van Nortwick 2001:
227–9. ΣbT ad 6.466 rightly point out that the episode starts a long tradition
of scenes involving children in tragedy; cf. Sifakis 1979.

466 The line suggests that Andromache's speech interrupted Hector's

encounter with Astyanax, cf. 404n. οὗ παιδός: references to Astyanax as
‘Hector's child’ frame the episode, cf. 482–3n.; contrast the more neutral
παῖδα (without possessive adjective) at 404n. ὀρέξατο ‘reached for’ (in
order to embrace). ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ: a common noun–epithet formula.
ϕαίδιμος is occasionally used also of other men (e.g. Ajax at 5.617 etc.,
Odysseus at Od. 10.251 etc.) but most typically describes Hector; for his
appearance, cf. 11.61–6 and 12.462–6 (a striking elaboration of the
traditional epithet). This episode explores the relationship between martial
Hector and his baby son, and the epithet punctuates their encounter: first
‘brilliant’ Hector frightens Astyanax, then he takes off his helmet, which is
itself ‘shining’ (473n.) and finally he picks it up again (494n.). When
Neoptolemos takes away Andromache and kills Astyanax at Little Iliad, fr.
29 West, he is called ϕαίδιμος too.
467–70 The scholia bT ad 6.467 praise Homer for the extraordinary
vividness (ἐνάργεια) of these lines, and they comment that we can see, as
well as hear, the action; cf. Introduction 2.6. The passage invites the
audience not only to visualise Astyanax, but also to view Hector from the
perspective of his frightened baby: 469–70n. Up to now Hector made no
concession to his domestic surroundings: he refused Hecuba's offer of wine
because, he pointed out, he was covered in blood (264–8n.); and later he
entered Paris’ bedroom wielding an enormous spear (318–24n., 319n.).
Now, finally, he relinquishes his helmet in an attempt to soothe Astyanax:
472–3n.

467 Cf. Little Iliad, fr. 29 West: παῖδα δ᾽ ἑλὼν ἐκ κόλπου ἐϋπλοκάμοιο
τιθήνης. ἄψ: the tone of the adverb is mock-military (cf. 3.32 = 11.585 =
13.566 etc.). πάϊς takes up οὗ παιδός at 466n. but now with emphasis not on
the relationship between father and son but on Astyanax's tender age. The
word is scanned as two syllables; cf. 119n. κόλπον: 400n. ἐϋζώνοιο τιθήνης:
the housekeeper introduced the servant as Astyanax's nurse (389); the poet
initially described her as Andromache's maid (ἀμϕίπολος: 372n. and 399n.)
but now uses τιθήνη, thus emphasising her relationship to Astyanax.
ἐΰζωνος is a common epithet of women in epic (cf. 1.429 etc.): the ζώνη is a
belt or girdle worn by goddesses and women (Marinatos 1967: 12); when
applied to men, ζώνη simply means waist.

468 ἐκλίνθη ‘shrank back’ (< κλίνω), the aorist ending -θην is intransitive
rather than passive, cf. 106n. (ἐλελίχθησαν). The same verb is used of
warriors avoiding a blow (3.360 = 7.254). ἰάχων < ἰάχω, ‘scream’; cf.
νηπίαχον at 408n. In the Iliad the participle ἰάχων is otherwise used of
warriors whose war cry is terrifying to the enemy: cf. the formulaic
σμερδαλέα ἰάχων; contrast the feminine ἰάχουσα of the wounded Aphrodite
at 5.343. The hiatus before ἰάχων is merely apparent (< ϝιάχων), though
Homer often treats this verb as though it did not have an initial consonant;
for discussion see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 139–40. ϕίλου: a standard
epithet of πατήρ, cf. 4.354 etc., 471n., and Od. 1.94 ∼ 2.360 (in the same
metrical position). The expression ϕίλος υἱός is even more common (474n.).
ἀτυχθείς: another item of battlefield vocabulary; cf. 38n. (ἀτυζομένω
πεδίοιο) and Schein 1984: 175; though the verb also describes
Andromache's reaction when she sees Hector's corpse: 22.474. Only here in
the aorist.

469–70 The lines are a variation on a common verse in arming scenes:

3.337 = 11.42 = 15.481 = 16.138. Now, the baby focuses on one of Hector's
most prominent attributes: his helmet was a gift of Apollo (11.352–3 with
Edwards 1987: 211) and features in Hector's most common epithet:
κορυθαιόλος (Introduction 2.2; for statistics on Hector's epithets, see M.
Parry 1971: 142).

469 ταρβήσας: the same verb is used of the fear Hector instils in the
enemy: 17.586. χαλκόν: cf. 116n., and χαλκήρης at 13.714 and 15.535.
Bronze weapons are often said to gleam (319n.); but Hector is particularly
associated with gleaming bronze, not just through his epithet κορυθαιόλος
(116n.), but also in similes and the main narrative (11.61–6, 12.462–4). ἰδέ:
a rarer alternative to ἠδέ (90n.); cf. Latacz 2003: 164. The final syllable is
closed: 91n. (ἐνὶ μεγάρωι) and Introduction 2.1. λόφον ἱππιοχαίτην: the
adjective is unique but recalls the frequently used ἵππουριν (of Hector's
helmet: 495n.); and related terms such as ἵππειος, ἱπποδάσεια (9),
ἱππόκομος and ἱπποκορυστής. The unusual word emphasises the animal-
like features of the helmet and reflects Astyanax's distorted perception of
his father: Hector appears to him as a strange composite monster.

470 δεινόν: adverbial in Homer; cf. 182n. ἀπ᾽ ἀκροτάτης ‘from the very
top’. The phrasing is unusual: Astyanax is looking up to Hector and his
terrifying, gleaming, nodding helmet; see Di Benedetto 1998: 116. κόρυθος
echoes κορυθαιόλος Ἕκτωρ. νεύοντα ‘nodding’, often of helmets: cf.
13.132–3 = 16.216–17, 20.162, 22.314, and the passages cited at 469–70n.
Carol Ann Duffy captures Astyanax's perception: ‘a bristling horsehair
plume / alive on top’ (see Duffy and Graziosi 2005). νοήσας: the verb now
explicitly focalises the description of the helmet through Astyanax.

471 ἐκ δ᾽ ἐγέλασσε: the line opens with ἐκ, expressing the spontaneous,
open reaction of both Hector and Andromache. The compound ἐκγελάω (for
the tmesis see 42–3n.) occurs only here in the Iliad; cf. Hom. Hymn 4.389,
also a reaction to the amusing behaviour of a child; for more sarcastic uses
of the verb, cf. Od. 16.354, 18.35; and Hes. Op. 59. For Homeric laughter
more generally, see Levine 1982–3, Jäkel 1994, Pisanello 1999, Halliwell
2008: ch. 2; cf. 484n. πατήρ τε φίλος echoes 468n. Hector was already
smiling at 404n. καὶ πότνια μήτηρ: this is the first time Andromache is
called a mother; cf. 264n. where the same expression is used of Hecuba.
Andromache will not remain a mother for long: there are only two other
passages where she is called μήτηρ in the Iliad, and both describe a future
shared with Astyanax, which she will never have: 481, 22.499. For
Andromache as a mother in later literature, see esp. Eur. Andromache, with
Introduction 5.

472–3 This is the only time Hector adapts to the domestic situation in
which he finds himself and lets go of his martial appearance, cf. 467–70n.
On the battlefield losing one's helmet signifies defeat, cf. 21.50 and
especially 3.369–78. The next time we see Hector without his helmet is
when Achilles drags his corpse in the dust: 22.401–4. In Virg. Aen. 12.434,
Aeneas kisses his child without removing his helmet.

472 αὐτίκ᾽: a spontaneous gesture in response to his son: Erren 1970: 27.
κρατός: genitive singular of κάρη; for the declension of this noun see
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 230–1. κόρυθ᾽: cf. 470n., 472–3n. ϕαίδιμος
Ἕκτωρ: cf. 466n.

473 ἐπὶ χθονὶ παμφανόωσαν: the expected epithet after χθονί would be
πουλυβοτείρηι, ‘nourishing’ (213n.); the unusual final participle focuses on
Hector's gleaming helmet, cf. Edwards 1987: 211: ‘The unexpected effect,
startling to anyone familiar with the usual formulae, directs attention both
to the sight of the helmet lying on the ground and to its glitter, the reason
for the child's fright.’

474 Hector kisses his baby son and tosses him in his arms – a natural
gesture for a father; but, in this context, tinged with foreboding: 466–81n. ὅ
γ᾽: the particle singles out Hector's gesture; cf. 16–17n. Expected digamma
before ὅν can be restored by deleting γε (Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 147),
but Homer does not always acknowledge digamma, and the transmitted text
should stand: 90n. (ὅς οἱ). ϕίλον υἱόν corresponds to ‘dear father’ at 468n.
and 471n.; cf. 401n. (῾Εκτορίδην). κύσε: the only loving kiss in the Iliad; the
other two are (real or imagined) gestures of submission: 8.371, 24.478. In
the Odyssey people kiss more frequently, and for a variety of reasons; cf.
LfgrE s.v. κύνει, κύσ(σ)αι. πῆλέ τε χερσίν: often translated as ‘dandled’, but
πάλλω implies an energetic gesture; the verb normally describes the
throwing of objects, especially spears and stones, on the battlefield; see also
Eur. Hec. 1157–62 (of children about to be killed).

475–81 At 447–9n. Hector told Andromache he knew that Troy was going
to fall. Now, with baby Astyanax in his arms, he suddenly becomes hopeful:
as the scholia put it, ‘he melts, and forgets his previous words’ (ΣbT ad
6.476 διαχυθεὶς δὲ ἐπιλέλησται τῶν πρώην); see also Taplin 1992: 123 on
the discrepancy between this passage and 447–9. The language and syntax
of Hector's prayer show signs of improvisation, cf. 477n. (ὡς καὶ ἐγώ περ),
478n. (ὧδε; βίην τ᾽ ἀγαθόν), 479n. (καί ποτέ τις εἴπηισι), 480n. (ἐκ πολέμου
ἀνιόντα). Hector hardly adheres to the formal conventions of prayer (476n.:
Ζεῦ ἄλλοι τε θεοί), see Pulleyn 1997: 26–38, with 304–10n. What he says
remains a mere wish – and substitutes for the conversation he cannot yet
have, and will never be able to have, with his son. Structurally, his speech
replaces the traditional prayer warriors utter before entering into battle, cf.
Arthur Katz 1981: 34; this reinforces the strong sense of identification of
the father with the son. The speech ends with an unlikely image: one day
Astyanax will return home with the spoils of the enemy – and Andromache
will rejoice at the sight. There is a clear echo of this passage at 17.206–8,
where Zeus points out that Hector will never manage to present
Andromache with Achilles’ spoils; see further Taplin 1992: 125; Bouvier
2002a: 100; and Introduction 3.2 and 4.4. For Michael Longley's ‘The
Helmet’, based on this passage, see Introduction 5.

475 Prayers to ‘Zeus and the other gods’ remain vague plans, complaints,
intentions and speculations; the expression is never used by the poet to
describe a precise and successful ritual; cf., e.g., 259n., 3.298–302, 8.526–8,
see further Jörgensen 1904, who argues that characters invoke ‘Zeus’ and
‘the gods’ when they are unsure about which god is responsible for a
particular situation. εἶπεν: Aristarchus read εἶπε δ᾽; cf. ΣAT ad 6.475. He
believed that Homer used ‘apodotic’ δέ (i.e. δέ after a subordinate clause) as
a matter of habit: Matthaios 1999: 571–3; and he noted instances also when
the main tradition does not seem to have δέ, as here. ἐπευξάμενος: cf. 304n.
(εὐχομένη).

476–8 The syntax of these three lines gives the impression that Hector puts
together his prayer as he speaks; cf. 475–81n. Construe: δότε…τόνδε
γενέσθαι…ἀριπρεπέα…βίην τ᾽ ἀγαθόν…καὶ…ἀνάσσειν.

476 Ζεῦ ἄλλοι τε θεοί: without the expected (Ζεῦ) πάτερ, or any other
epithets, Hector's address sounds improvised (475–81n.). Elsewhere, only
Athena addresses her father without an epithet, and only at the end of a
speech that is introduced by an elaborate address (Od. 1.62; cf. 45); for the
gods addressing each other, see also Od. 5.7 = 8.306 = 12.377, and cf.
12.371 (the closest parallel in prayer). Hiatus after Ζεῦ further suggests
improvisation. (No close parallels; contrast Ζεῦ ἄνα at Il. 3.351 etc., with
digamma still felt.) δότε: cf. 307n. (δός). δή adds urgency to the prayer, cf.
52–3n. καὶ τόνδε ‘this one too’; the deictic pronoun suggests that Hector is
presenting Astyanax to the gods. καί, here and at 477n., expresses Hector's
identification with his son, cf. 475–81n.

477 The line, in necessary enjambment, is supposed to complete and thus

clarify Hector's wish; though in fact two parentheses separate γενέσθαι from
ἀριπρεπέα and make the speech seem disjointed: Hector is trying to express
his affection for his child, and his hopes for the future, all at the same time.
παῖδ᾽ ἐμόν: the phrase, in apposition, draws attention to Hector's close
relationship with his son. ὡς καὶ ἐγώ περ: a second parenthesis suggests that
Hector is ahead of himself: ἀριπρεπέα is already on his mind and strikes
him as an aspiration both for himself and for his son. περ invites us to
reflect on the point of the comparison: 146n.; ἐγώ suggests a separate clause
with ellipsis of εἰμί, ‘am’; cf. Stoevesandt 2008: 151–2. ἀριπρεπέα: not
simply ‘excellent’ but ‘recognised for his excellence’. The word sometimes
describes a young man's transition into adulthood and the public arena (it is
never used of women): 9.438–41; Hom. Hymn 5.103–6; cf. Od. 11.540
(ἀριδείκετος). Τρώεσσιν: Hector first considers Trojan society, and then
Andromache's perspective, as in his previous speech: 440–65n., 450–3n.
The locative dative (‘among the Trojans’) seems inspired by ἀριπρεπέα and
its similarity in sound and meaning to μεταπρεπέα, μεταπρέπω + dative (cf.
18.370, μεταπρεπέ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι; 13.175 etc., μετέπρεπε δὲ Τρώεσσι; Hom.
Hymn 5.104, μετὰ Τρώεσσιν ἀριπρεπέ᾽ ἔμμεναι).

478 A further elaboration on what Hector has already said; again the
syntax is strained; cf. 475–81n. His words emphasise both power and
physical force: Astyanax, like his father, is expected to be the strongest
warrior and, eventually, the ruler of Troy. ὧδε: another comparison with
Hector, and another unexpected turn of phrase; ὧδε follows ὡς καὶ ἐγώ περ
in line 477 and is best taken as enjambment with ἀριπρεπέα in 477:
‘distinguished to such an extent’ (i.e. like me); cf. Stoevesandt 2008: 151.
Some ancient texts and many medieval manuscripts read ὧδε βίην ἀγαθόν τε
(‘so valiant and’), in an attempt to do away with the harsh enjambment. The
result is unconvincing. βίην τ᾽ ἀγαθόν: there are no close parallels, but cf.
15.139 (βίην καὶ χείρας ἀμείνων); see also 1.404, 15.165, 181, etc. At the
level of sound and rhythm, the frequent βοὴν ἀγαθός (12n.) provides a
model – and is attested in one manuscript. βίη, ‘(violent) force’, is not
always positive, cf. esp. Hector's view about how others might assess him at
22.107. Ἰλίου ἶϕι ἀνάσσειν: cf., e.g., 1.38 = 452, Od. 17.443. The traditional
expression further strains the syntax (ἀριπρεπέα…ἀγαθὸν…ἀνάσσειν).
Hector reflects on Astyanax's public name (ἀνάσσειν ∼ Ἀστυ-άναξ; 403n.).
ἶϕι ‘with might’ (ἴς); for the ending in -ϕι see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I,
235, and cf. 510n.

479 The Trojans already have high hopes for Astyanax (403n.); now
Hector imagines that one day somebody will recognise his son as the
strongest man in a distinguished family line; for the aspirations of fathers,
cf. 206–11n., 209n.; and Arthur Katz 1981: 35. Hector is, as ever, mindful
of what others will say, cf. 454–63n. καί ποτέ τις εἴπηισι: the free-standing
subjunctive fits Hector's animated, improvised prayer; his use of the
subjunctive at 459n. is almost as abrupt; see also his words at 7.85–8. The
phrase ποτέ τις εἴπηισι sometimes follows after μή (see 22.106, 23.575, Od.
21.324) but can also feature in positive formulations: the closest parallel is
Od. 6.275, which harks back to μή τις…|| μωμεύηι at Od. 6.273–4. This
reading is preferable to the optative εἴποι attested in the papyri and some
medieval manuscripts; εἴποι agrees with ϕέροι in the next line; but here
Hector is not simply expressing a wish, he is imagining a situation; for
discussion see also Ludwich 1885: 351–4. For the expressive grammar of
character speech, see e.g. 280–5n., and Introduction 2.5. πατρὸς δ᾽ ὅ γε
πολλὸν ἀμείνων: cf. 1.404 and, for the metrical shape of the expression,
7.114, 16.709, etc. The particle δέ does not normally introduce direct speech
in Homer, though see 123n. In the present context the effect is elliptical,
also because the speech starts midway through the line: ‘(the father was
great) but (δέ) he is even better than his father’. There is only one other
speech in the Iliad which does not start at the beginning of the line: 23.855,
with Edwards 1970: 27. According to ΣAT ad 6.479a, Aristarchus read
πατρός γ᾽ ὅδε, which makes the text grammatically smoother and avoids δέ;
cf. van der Valk 1963–4: vol. II, 124–5.

480 Hector describes Astyanax ‘returning from the war’, just like himself,
except that he imagines a victorious return with spoils – and then, in the
next line, he describes what he would most like to see: a happy
Andromache; cf. Zeus's comment at 17.206–8. ἐκ πολέμου ἀνιόντα ‘(seeing
him) as he returns from the war’. The accusative exercised ancient readers
(ΣAT ad 6.479–80) but fits Hector's elliptical and improvised prayer (475–
81n.). ϕέροι δ᾽ ἔναρα βροτόεντα: cf., e.g., 8.534, 17.540; for ἔναρα, see 68–
9n. The last man to be killed and despoiled in the Iliad is Hector himself:
22.367–9.

481 Hector now imagines Andromache's happiness – in response not to his

own actions, but those of Astyanax, who has just managed to make her
laugh (471n.). Cassandra is the first who sees Priam return with Hector's
corpse at the end of the poem and remembers how the whole community
used to rejoice whenever they saw Hector returning alive from the
battlefield: 24.704–6. This passage foreshadows Hector's death, but also
that of Astyanax. 17.38–40 provides only a partial parallel: Euphorbos
wants to kill Menelaos in order to avenge his brother Hyperenor, and he
imagines that his parents would rejoice at the sight of Menelaos’ head and
weapons; Hector's vision is less specific and is at odds with what
Andromache says about the war: cf. 405–39n., esp. 432n., and Introduction
3.2. κτείνας…ἄνδρα echoes one of Hector's traditional epithets: ἀνδροϕόνος
(498n.). Astyanax continues to be seen as an alter ego of his father. δήϊον
ἄνδρα: in the singular, the adjective is otherwise used only of fire and war –
except at 22.84–5, where Hecuba describes Achilles as the ultimate enemy,
in the singular; for the plural, see 82n. μήτηρ: 471n.

482–93 After a character utters a prayer, the poet usually describes how the
god responded or did not respond to it (cf. 311n.), but this is not the case
here: Hector's wish is so far removed from what will actually happen that
the poet does not linger on it; for a similarly unrealistic prayer followed by
silence about the god's intentions, cf. 3.351–5 with Lateiner 1997: 260, n.
39. Rather than comment explicitly on the future, the poet focuses on the
immediate situation: ‘a statement of Zeus's intentions would fall too heavily
into the delicate and responsive exchange between husband and wife’
(Macleod 1982: 42). Hector now places Astyanax in Andromache's arms: it
was the nurse who carried him when Hector first picked him up (cf. 389n.
ϕέρει…τιθήνη, 400n.), but now he entrusts the baby to his mother (482–
3n.). His gesture, like the speech that follows, reminds Andromache of her
role and responsibilities, while also trying to comfort her. She responds with
laughter and tears. Her complex, entangled reaction makes Hector take pity
on her (484n.), which is exactly what she hoped to elicit (407n.; 431n.). His
final words, however, suggest a very different course of action from the one
she recommended at 433–9n.; see 485–93n., with Schadewaldt 1997: 137–
8. For a Roman painting of this scene, see Introduction 5.

482–3 ἀλόχοιο ϕίλης: one of several expressions that emphasise the

affection shared by family members (cf. 468n.: πατρὸς ϕίλου; 474n.: ϕίλον
υἱόν); the focus now shifts from the relationship between parents and child,
to that between Hector and Andromache. παῖδ᾽ ἑόν, in necessary
enjambment, picks up παῖδ᾽ ἐμόν at 477n. Andromache wants to keep
Hector close to her, but he entrusts ‘his son’ to her, while he prepares to
leave. Cf. 400 and 467–8, in ring composition. κηώδεϊ: probably ‘fragrant’.
The description is focalised through Astyanax, who can smell his mother's
bosom, as she carries him; cf. Lilja 1972: 146. Van Wees 2005: 13–14
discusses the practice of treating garments with scented oils. The related
κηώεντα at 288n. (of Hecuba's storeroom) may point to the same practice.
Ancient readers related both adjectives to κεῖσθαι and here paraphrased ‘in
which babies are put to sleep’ (ἐν ὧι τὰ βρέϕη κοιμίζεται): see ΣAT ad 6.483
with Erbse's apparatus. Their interpretation is not accurate in linguistic
terms but suggests that ancient readers too understood the word in relation
to Astyanax. δέξατο κόλπωι: cf. 136n.

484 δακρυόεν γελάσασα: ancient readers state that ‘this powerful

description is impossible to interpret’, δυνατῶς ῥηθὲν ἀνερμήνευτόν ἐστιν;
ΣAbT ad 6.484. For Andromache's laughter, cf. 471n.; for her tears, cf.
373n., 455n., 459n., 496n., 499n. and 500n. She is breaking down under the
strain of conflicting emotions; see further 482–93n. This is the only
instance in Homer where somebody laughs and cries at the same time (for
later examples see Arnould 1990: 93–4), but paradoxical forms of laughter
feature prominently in both Iliad and Odyssey: cf. 471n. and 2.270, 15.101–
3, Od. 18.100 and 163. πόσις corresponds to ἄλοχος at 482 and emphasises
the reciprocity between husband and wife; for Hector as Andromache's
‘husband’, cf. 8.190 and 22.439. ἐλέησε νοήσας: cf. 407n., 431n. The
alternative reading ἐλέαιρε is well attested but less suitable, because it
describes a general attitude rather than a sudden pang of feeling; for ἐλέησε,
cf., e.g., 8.350, 15.12, 17.346; for ἐλεαίρω, cf., e.g., 9.302, 13.15. νοήσας, in
the aorist, focalises the scene through Hector's eyes and emphasises the
onset of pity; for the use of an aor. part. with a main verb in the aor. to
express concomitant actions, see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 188.

485–93 Hector tenderly touches Andromache and talks to her one last
time: his words are more vigorous than line 485n. suggests. She should try
not to upset herself (or, implicitly, him) too much: 486n. There is a shape to
human life: nobody can escape fate (οὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλόν: 489n.). This
assertion may seem to contradict Hector's earlier insistence on the
difference between being bad (κακὸς ὥς: 443n.) and learning to be good
(ἐπεὶ μάθον ἔμμεναι ἐσθλός: 444n.); but the underlying thought, in the
opening sections of both his speeches, is the same: it is precisely because all
mortals must die, and cannot escape fate, that they must behave well and do
their duty; cf. 447n. (γάρ) and 487–9n. After this general proposition, in the
second part of his speech, Hector describes Andromache's duties and his
own: 490–3n. Andromache complies but is not reassured: 494–502n. When
we next see Andromache, in book 22, she is attending to her domestic
duties – weaving and telling her maids to prepare a bath for Hector – when
she hears a commotion outside and immediately fears that Hector's
excessive manliness in war will have cost him his life: her behaviour and
thoughts at 22.437–59 seem directly inspired by Hector's last words to her:
Graziosi and Haubold 2003: 69–71.

485 Similar lines introduce the words of mothers when they try to console
their children: 1.361, 5.372 and 24.127. Andromache has just said that
Hector is ‘a father and a mother’ to her (429–30n.); in the Iliad Hector is
the only male character who caresses (κατέρεξεν) another person.

486 Hector tells Andromache that she should not indulge in excessive
grief; his opening words betray his alarm: Andromache's despair affects
him too (note the dative of affect: μοι; cf. 203n.); the conclusion to his
previous speech already revealed that he finds her suffering difficult to bear:
464–5n. Excessive grief impairs proper behaviour: cf. Paris’ revelation at
336n. (ἔθελον δ᾽ ἄχεϊ προτραπέσθαι). δαιμονίη: not an affectionate word,
pace Kirk 1990: 224; see 326n. and 521n. (in both cases Hector is talking to
Paris). Andromache used the same word when she addressed Hector and
complained that he felt no pity (407n.). Ancient readers thought of his
words as a reproach: 494–502n. μὴ…λίην: for the importance of proper
measure, even in suffering, cf. 24.46–9, 522–6 and 602–20. ἀκαχίζεο: the
form is used as the imperative of ἄχνυμαι etc., ‘have ἄχος᾽ (524–5n.), both
here and at Od. 11.486; contrast Od. 16.432 where ἀκαχίζω is causative. In
all three cases the speaker says, or strongly implies, that the addressee is
behaving inappropriately. θυμῶι: cf. 51n. and 524–5n. For the locative
dative, 397n. and 510n.

487–9 An elaborate anaphora (οὐ…οὐ…οὐ…οὐδέ) takes up the negative

command in line 486n. Hector's thinking is traditional: mortals must do
their duty not because they can hope to transcend their condition, but
precisely because they are mortal; he reasons along similar lines at 447n.
(γάρ); for a famous statement of the same principle in the Iliad, cf. 12.322–
8.

487 Hector's words evoke the fated death of the heroes as described,
prominently, in the proem: 1.3; cf. 11.54–5; and, with slightly different
inflection, Hes. fr. 204.118 MW. For the idea that nobody can send another
man to Hades (Ἀϊδωνῆϊ προϊάψειν) against the will of the gods, see 5.190–1.
οὐ…τις…ἀνήρ: cf. 487–9n. ὑπὲρ αἶσαν: an impersonal reference to what is
destined (cf. 333n.); μοῖραν in the next line refers more specifically to
Hector's fate. ῎Αϊδι προϊάψει: cf. the related expressions ψυχὴν Ἄϊδι δοῦναι
(5.654 = 11.445 ∼ 16.625) and εἰς Ἀΐδαο (προ)πέμψαι (8.367, 21.48). Early
epic uses προϊάψαι (or ἀπιάψαι: Hes. fr. 204.118 MW) only in the aorist
and future, and always in the context of hurling somebody to Hades. Later
readers thought that the expression described a particularly cruel and
untimely death: ΣbT ad 1.3c; cf. Aesch. Sept. 321–2 (of the city of Thebes).

488 μοῖραν: a person's fate, often envisaged as a powerful deity who shapes
human affairs: 24.49; Hes. Theog. 904–6; cf. Redfield 1994: 131–6;
Yamagata 1994: 105–16; Graziosi and Haubold 2005: 89–92.
Etymologically, μοῖρα is one's ‘share’ (cf. μείρομαι); it is closely associated
with a person's death as the limit of his or her share in life; cf., e.g., 3.101–
2, Od. 2.99–100; Hom. Hymn 5.269; and Hes. fr. 35.4 MW. When Hector
dies, that is his μοῖρα: cf. 22.5, 303. οὔ τινα…ἀνδρῶν: cf. 487–9n. ϕημί: as
often in Homer, ϕημί expresses a confident assertion rather than a mere
opinion; cf. 206n. For its use with sayings, see Lardinois 1997: 220.
πεϕυγμένον ἔμμεναι ‘has escaped from’, i.e. ‘is safe from’, an elaborate
periphrasis that illustrates the present meaning of the perfect tense (cf.
ἀϕῖγμαι, εἰλήλουθα, ‘I am here’; Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 198); but also
emphasises that there is no escape: cf. 22.219, Od. 1.18, 9.455; Hom. Hymn
5.34, all of them negative.

489 = Od. 8.553 (about the fact that everybody has a name). οὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ
μὲν ἐσθλόν: this collapse of social and moral categories comes as a shock
after the careful distinctions drawn at 443n. (κακὸς ὥς) and 444n. (ἐπεὶ
μάθον ἔμμεναι ἐσθλός). However, it is precisely because moral choices make
no difference to Hector's apportioned fate that they are of crucial
importance to him as a human being, cf. 485–93n. οὐδὲ μέν ‘nor again’
(emphatic); cf. Denniston 1954: 362–3. ἐπὴν…γένηται: πρῶτα emphasises
that the event is irreversible; see Latacz 2000b: 21. For the idea that one's
fate is determined at birth see also 345n. ἐπήν (< ἐπεί + ἄν) here links a
specific statement to a general truth, cf. 19.223–4 etc. τά: for the use of the
article with ordinal numbers (first, second, etc.), cf. Chantraine 1948–53:
vol. II, 162.

490–3 ∼ Od. 1.356–9 and 21.350–3 (Telemachus addresses his mother and
claims that μῦθος, or τόξον, is the business of men – and his especially, since
he rules in the household). This and the two Odyssean passages conclude
extensive scenes at the end of which the male speaker feels he needs to
assert his authority and role. On these lines as an articulation of gender
roles, see further Felson and Slatkin 2004: 99; for their reception in
Athenian drama, see Introduction 5.

490 εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα: Hector's matter-of-fact tone is in stark contrast with the
picture the poet paints at 496n. τὰ σ᾽ αὐτῆς = τὰ σὰ αὐτῆς; cf. 446 (ἐμὸν
αὐτοῦ) ἔργα: for the works of women, cf. 289n. and 324n. κόμιζε ‘attend to’,
‘look after’, used both of people (e.g. 24.541) and things (e.g. Od. 23.355);
κομίζω and the related noun κομιδή are often used of domestic work: 8.185–
90, Od. 16.73–7, 20.337; seamen and vagrants (ἄνδρες ἀλῆται) do not enjoy
proper κομιδή: Od. 8.232–3 and 451–2.

491–2 Weaving and spinning are important female tasks in Homer

(Pantelia 1993), and indeed in the ancient world more generally: a bilingual
Luwian/Phoenician inscription from Karatepe (eighth or early seventh
century BCE) describes territories that were once dangerous for men, but
where women now walk freely, carrying their spindles; cf. Lanfranchi 2007:
197. The tasks Hector recommends are appropriate in peacetime but, in
time of war, become difficult: Introduction 3.2. ἱστόν τ᾽ ἠλακάτην τε ‘the
loom and the distaff’: these concrete objects stand for the activities of
weaving and spinning respectively. The distaff holds the unspun wool, cf.
Od. 4.121–35 with S. West in Heubeck, West and Hainsworth 1988: 203
(Helen has a gold distaff and keeps her spun wool in a silver basket on
wheels). ἔργον: the collective singular ἔργον picks up ἔργα at 490:
Andromache and her servants are essentially engaged in the same activities.
Hector earlier imagined Andromache's future life as a slave, weaving for
somebody else: 456n. ἐποίχεσθαι: cf. 81n.
492–3 πόλεμος δ᾽ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει: the same proverbial expression
distinguishes men from gods at 20.137; here Hector uses it both to justify
his instructions to Andromache (she must act like all women) and to clarify
his own exceptional role in the war; see Lardinois 1997: 219; and, for a
discussion of ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει, Prauscello 2007. Hector previously used the
verb μέλει when he claimed that he cared for Andromache more than for
anyone else: 450n.; now, by contrast, he insists that he cares for the same
thing as all other men: war. His words imply that Andromache should not
concern herself with war, and they perhaps draw attention to her name:
Ἀνδρο-μάχη: 371n. πᾶσιν, ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα: the progressive runover, as
often, makes the previous statement more specific, see Introduction 2.1.
Here the contrast between ‘all men’ and Hector emerges emphatically from
the sequence πᾶσιν, ἐμοί at the beginning of the runover line. Hector's
insistence that he cares for war more than all the other men does not
reassure Andromache: 494–502n., and Graziosi and Haubold 2003: 70. The
alternative reading πᾶσι, μάλιστα δ᾽ ἐμοί, preserved in one papyrus and cited
by Epictetus, dilutes the stark contrast between πᾶσιν and ἐμοί and will have
intruded from Od. 1.359, 11.353 and 21.353, where it alone is metrically
possible. Some modern editors prefer πᾶσι, μάλιστα δ᾽ ἐμοί because it
respects digamma before Ἰλίωι, but it is unlikely that their concern would
have been shared by Epictetus or the scribe of papyrus 21 West; cf. van der
Valk 1963–4: vol. II, 570–1. Digamma cannot always be restored before
Ἴλιος (e.g. 386) and is not felt at 17.145, where the transmitted text is λαοῖσι
τοὶ Ἰλίωι ἐγγεγάασιν. ἐγγεγάασιν makes a striking rhyme with πᾶσιν at the
beginning of the line; cf. 143n. (ἆσσον…θᾶσσον).

494–502 Hector and Andromache now part: he picks up his helmet, and
she walks home in tears, turning back again and again to look at him. ‘The
rebuke made her leave; but the affection made her turn back’ comments an
ancient reader: ΣbT ad 6.495–6. The narrative then follows Andromache as
she enters the house: she already came close to performing a funeral lament
in front of her living husband (405–39n.), now the poet makes the funerary
overtones of the episode explicit. It is, of course, ill-omened to mourn a
living man (Alexiou 2002: 4–5), and ancient readers called Andromache's
lament παράνομος (ΣbT ad 6.499); see also Cavafy's ‘Trojans’ quoted in
Introduction 5. The alternative – to carry on as normal and assume that
Hector will come back – is, as the poet later reveals, also impossible: see
Introduction 3.2.

494 ∼ 472n. (ring composition); the gesture puts an end to Hector's

encounter with his wife and child – though he does not yet leave (503–
29n.). ὣς…ϕωνήσας: cf. 116n. ἄρα: 232n. κόρυθ᾽ εἵλετο ϕαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ:
Hector resumes his traditional persona by putting on his helmet. One
papyrus seems to preserve the variant χε[ιρὶ παχείηι] (cf. 10.31), which
attempts to make Homeric diction more responsive to the immediate
narrative context.

495 ἵππουριν ‘with a horse-tail’ (< ἵππος + οὐρή), standardly employed at

the beginning of the line, as here; the adjective is otherwise used in arming
scenes, just before a warrior enters into battle (cf., e.g., 3.337), and is
normally followed by a description of the terrifying plume: δεινὸν δὲ λόϕος
καθύπερθεν ἔνευεν. ‘The normal continuation is suppressed here because the
horse-tail crest has already figured when its movement frightens Astyanax’
(Macleod 1982: 42): the adjective looks back, in ring composition, to 469–
70n. – but also anticipates Hector's return to the battlefield. The creative
adaptation of traditional formulae captures Hector's situation: he is now
fully armed and ready to fight but is still looking back at Andromache,
rather than moving forward: 496n., and 515–16n. ἄλοχος…βεβήκει echoes
394n., in ring composition; it also echoes the last speech: Hector's ‘dear
wife’ (482–3n.) does what he asked her to do (490n.). The phrasing is
traditional, cf. Od. 1.360 = 21.354, 23.292, etc.

496 After a plain and traditional line, the poet continues with an arresting
word in enjambment. ἐντροπαλιζομένη ‘turning back again and again’
(τροπέω/τρέπω); see Risch 1974: 300 for the formation in -αλίζω; the verb
otherwise belongs to battlefield narratives, where it describes retreats that
are particularly reluctant or costly: 11.544–57, 17.106–13 and 21.490–6.
The participle takes up the first half of the line, up to the main caesura, and
becomes all the more striking as a result, cf., e.g., προπροκυλινδόμενος at
22.221 and Od. 17.525. One implication must be that Hector is still there,
looking at Andromache (Edwards 1987: 212); the poet later confirms this:
515–16n. (στρέψεσθ᾽ ἐκ χώρης), cf. Introduction 2.6. On Mandelstam's
reflection on this line, see Introduction 5. θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέουσα ∼
24.9, Od. 4.556, 10.201, etc. For Andromache's tears, cf. 405n.; for the
meaning of θαλερόν, cf. 430n. (θαλερὸς παρακοίτης).

497 = 370n., in ring composition: Hector went home while Andromache

was outside; now she returns home while he is about to leave for the
battlefield.

498 Ἕκτορος ἀνδροϕόνοιο: the epithet *ἀνδροϕόνος is used pointedly in

the Iliad (Schein 1984: 125, n. 30; Friedrich 2007: 104–6): it most
frequently characterises Hector, especially at the end of the line, where it
competes with the metrically equivalent but more neutral ἱππόδαμος: the
emphasis is either on the threat he poses to the Achaeans (1.242, 9.351,
16.840, 17.616, 638 and 18.149) or on the Trojans’ loss when he dies
(24.509 and 724). Both aspects are relevant here. κιχήσατο δ᾽ ἔνδοθι πολλάς
∼ Od. 6.51; cf. Il. 4.385 and 22.226. Andromache immediately gets hold of
her many servants (on the verb, cf. 228n. κιχείω); contrast Hector's
uncertain movements and questions at 369–91n. ἔνδοθι ‘inside’, with
adverbial suffix -θι; cf. οἴκοθι, ‘in the house’ (e.g. 8.513), ἄλλοθι,
‘elsewhere’ (e.g. Od. 16.44).

499 τῆισιν…ἐνῶρσεν ‘and roused up lamentation in them all’. We expect

Andromache to set her servants to work (491–2n.): this line comes as a
surprise, and shows – again – that Andromache shares the full extent of her
despair with the other women in the house: cf. 381–9n. and Introduction
3.2. γόον takes up 373n. in ring composition, but now the set-up resembles
closely the arrangement at Hector's funeral: a γόος is a lament uttered by a
female relative of the deceased, which inspires a collective wailing; cf.
24.723 and 746; 747 and 760; 761 and 776; see Ferrari 1986: 59–69;
Murnaghan 1999; and Alexiou 2002, esp. 11–14. ἐνῶρσεν: cf. the common
ὑφ᾽ ἵμερον ὤρσε γόοιο and similar phrases. ἐνόρνυμι tends to describe the
effect of gods on mortals, though it is also used of Idomeneus and Hector
on a rampage (13.362 and 15.62 respectively), and of a singer instilling a
desire for song and dance (Od 23.144). The effect of Andromache's grief on
her maids is overwhelming.
500 A devastating line, memorable and detailed. At its heart is a paradox,
expressed by the assonant ζωὸν γόον. Hector urged Andromache not to
abandon herself to grief (486n.) and earlier told all the women of Troy to
pray, i.e. behave constructively (237–41n.). Excessive grief is crippling and,
as Paris pointed out, impairs the ability to do one's duty (336n.); that those
closest to Hector should now lament him as if he was dead is terrible, but
also understandable: 494–502n. αἳ μέν adds new detail and prepares us for a
change of scene; cf. 312–13n. (αἳ μέν). ἔτι: an ominous qualification,
repeated again in the next line. γόον: 3rd pers. plur. imp. or aor. of γοάω,
‘lament’; the form is unique and difficult to explain in purely grammatical
terms; for discussion, see Leumann 1950: 186–7; and Frisk 1960: 317.
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. I, 392 may be right in suggesting that γόον was
derived from the noun γόος (cf. ἔκτυπε > κτύπος); what is clear is that the
form echoes γόον at 499n., and ζωόν at 500; cf. the unusual γηρὰς…ἐγήρα
at 17.197. For difficult forms characterised by assonance, see Hackstein
2002: 115–16 and 2007. ὧι ἐνὶ οἴκωι: frequent at the end of the line, and
always emphatic; e.g. 8.284 (raising an illegitimate child in one's own
home), Od. 23.153–4 (Odysseus being finally washed and anointed ‘in his
own house’), 9.478 (the Cyclops eating his visitors ‘in his own home’), etc.
The phrase draws attention to Hector's plight: he is still fighting but is
already considered dead in his own home.

501–2 pick up 367–8n., in ring composition: Hector feared he would never

see his own family again; see Di Benedetto 1998: 272–3. Andromache and
her maids seem certain that he will not – but eventually will start to hope
again: 22.442–4. Hector does in fact return to Troy one more time, though
the poet does not emphasise this: see Introduction 4.4 n. 136. οὐ…ἔτ᾽…
ἵξεσθαι ‘they were convinced he was no longer going to come back’.

501 μιν: cf. 176n. ἔτ᾽: cf. 500n. (ἔτι). ἔϕαντο is otherwise used of false
hopes or promises: 12.125–7, 17.377–80, Od. 1.194–5, 4.638–40, 13.211–
12; and (dramatically) Hom. Hymn 7.11–14; cf., e.g., ἐϕάμην at Il. 3.366,
and contrast 488n. (ϕημί). In the present context, all hope has already been
shattered. ὑπότροπον: only here and at 367n. For the hiatus after main
caesura (ἔϕαντο ∥ὑπότροπον), cf. 8n.
502 ∼ 7.309. ἵξεσθαι: cf. 367n. προϕυγόντα…Ἀχαιῶν: the compound
προϕυγεῖν (only aor.) is used of narrow or unlikely escapes: cf., e.g.,
11.339–42, 14.81. For another expressive compound, cf. 57n. (ὑπεκϕύγοι).
μένος καὶ χεῖρας Ἀχαιῶν = 13.105. The phrase is a rare variant of the
frequent μένος καὶ χεῖρας ἀάπτους (7.309, 12.166, etc.); experienced
listeners are likely to have thought of ἀάπτους in this context and
considered the hands of the Achaeans ‘inescapable’, or ‘invincible’, also
here.

503–29: Hector and Paris meet before entering Battle

Hector has been watching, rooted to the spot, as Andromache leaves (496n.,
515–16n.); Paris catches up with him and immediately takes the opportunity
to draw attention to his own speed (517–19n.). The poet compares Paris to a
horse that has broken free from its manger (506–11n.): the image
effectively contrasts the duty-bound Hector with his blindingly beautiful,
unfettered brother. Just as the horse's instinct leads him out of the stable and
into the open, so Paris finally leaves his bedroom and rushes towards the
battlefield, where he should have been all along. His attitude has an
immediate effect on Hector too, who now acknowledges Paris’ prowess and
then briefly mentions his own pain when others deny it; he then quickly
shakes off that thought and ends on a wildly optimistic note: 520–9n. After
the long and anguished encounter between Hector and Andromache, the
narrative gathers momentum in this section. The brief conversation between
the two brothers does not slow the action, even if Paris is – as ever –
warped and self-important, and Hector can only snap out of his painful
sense of responsibility by entertaining wild hopes for the future. The fast
pace carries on into the next book: 7.1–7.

503 After Hector and Andromache parted, the narrative followed

Andromache (494–502n.), and now we might expect a sentence about
Hector; but Paris suddenly appears. Hector remains in the background and
we are left to wonder how he copes with the swift transition from talking to
his tearful wife to dealing with his jubilant brother (καγχαλόων: 514n.); his
feelings can partly be inferred from the way in which others relate to him,
cf. 340–1n. and 496n. οὐδὲ…δήθυνεν suggests that Paris started to get ready
as soon as Hector left (363n., 364n.): for Homer's treatment of simultaneous
action, see Introduction 1. οὐδέ, as often, marks an abrupt change of scene.
Πάρις: cf. 280n. ἐν ὑψηλοῖσι δόμοισιν: cf. 24.281, Od. 7.131, etc. Here the
phrase recalls the earlier description of Paris’ beautiful palace on the
acropolis (312–17n.); and points forward to 512, where the poet describes
Paris running κατὰ Περγάμου ἄκρης towards the gates and the plain.

504 The line briefly confirms that Paris armed himself, while Hector talked
to Andromache. After an arming scene, the warrior usually enjoys an
aristeia: here Paris’ arming is reported only en passant, and no aristeia
follows. ὅ γ᾽: cf. 474n. ἐπεί: a brisk subclause brings up a second strand in
the story (cf. 505, ἔπειτα); the two are then joined up with αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειτα
(514n.). κατέδυ κλυτὰ τεύχεα ποικίλα χαλκῶι: the phrase combines two
distinct traditional expressions, one associated with arming scenes (κλυτὰ
τεύχεα δύω etc.); the other with the moment in battle when a warrior falls
wounded to the ground (ἀμϕὶ δέ μιν βράχε τεύχεα ποικίλα χαλκῶι; cf.
12.396, 13.181 and 14.420). Paris’ weapons are again prominent (cf. 321–
2n.) and impressed ancient readers: one manuscript reads κλυτὰ τεύχεα
παμϕανόωντα as at 18.144 (of Achilles’ weapons).

505 The line suggests a sense of confidence, and self-satisfaction; cf. ΣbT
ad 6.505: ἑαυτῶι πρόεισι ἀρέσκων (‘he goes forth pleased with himself’).
σεύατ᾽ ‘he sped’ (aor. middle). ἔπειτ᾽: cf. 504n. (ἐπεί). ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι
πεποιθώς: the only exact parallel is 22.138 (Achilles chases Hector); for
similar expressions, cf. Cypria fr. 16 West and the passages listed at LfgrE
s.v. πείθω, πιθήσ- B 1 c α. Paris resembles ‘swift-footed’ Achilles (423n.) in
this passage, cf. 512–14n., though the similarities are limited to his
appearance. There is a sense that this sudden show of bravado is precisely
that: a show.

506–11 = 15.263–8, ancient readers, and some modern scholars too, tried
to establish whether this simile belongs here or in book 15 (of Hector) but,
as Janko 1994: 256 points out, it suits both contexts – as do other repeated
similes in the Iliad; cf. Scott 1974: 127–40; Beye 1984, esp. 10–11; and Di
Benedetto 1998: 148–51. Just as the horse, after taking his fill at the
manger, breaks free from his shackle and returns to his natural habitat, so
Paris finally leaves Helen's bedroom, after having had sex with her, and re-
enters the battlefield; cf. ΣbT ad 6.507a: δεσμὸς Ἀλεξάνδρου ἡ Ἑλένη
(‘Helen was Alexandros' fetter’). Homeric similes often describe the natural
world (Fränkel 1921; Edwards 1991: 34–7; Buxton 2004: 145–6); horse
similes typically mark a warrior's return to battle, as at 22.22–4 (Krischer
1971: 41–3). For further discussion of Homeric similes and their functions,
see, e.g., Moulton 1977, Lonsdale 1990, Erbse 2000, Nannini 2003 and
Danek 2006b; for detailed interpretations of this simile, see Fränkel 1921:
77–8; and Fagan 2001: 102–13. Stylistically, the many runover lines
imitate, at the level of syntax and metre, the galloping rhythm of the horse.
For the unusual vocabulary and grammar, see 506n. (στατός, ἀκοστήσας ἐπὶ
ϕάτνηι), 507n. (κροαίνων), 509–11n.; 509n. (ὑψοῦ δὲ κάρη ἔχει), 510n. (ὃ δ᾽
ἀγλαΐηϕι πεποιθώς), 511n. (ῥίμϕά ἑ γοῦνα ϕέρει), with Introduction 2.4 and
Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 356. The simile was much admired in
antiquity: Apollonius 3.1259–61; Ennius fr. sed. inc. lxxxii = 535–9
Skutsch; and Virg. Aen. 11.492–7; with Williams 1968: 695–6 and 732–3;
von Albrecht 1969; Wülfing-von Martitz 1972: 267–70; and Skutsch 1985:
683–5.

506 στατός ‘kept in a stable’; only here and at 15.263. The exact meaning
of this rare word was debated in antiquity; it derives from ἵστημι and helps
to depict a static tableau, before the sudden escape of the horse. ἀκοστήσας
ἐπὶ ϕάτνηι ‘having had its fill at the manger’ (< ἀκοστή, ‘barley’).
ἀκοστήσας is used only here (= 15.263): Ennius fr. sed. inc. lxxxii.1 = 535
Skutsch translated it as fartus (‘sated’). Other ancient readers speculated
that it punned on ἄκος (‘remedy’) and στάσις; or even on ἄχος (the horse is,
quite literally, ‘fed up’). See LfgrE s.v. ἀκοστῆσαι Σχ; and Schlunk 1974:
26–7.

507 A sharp change of tone and pace replicates, within the simile, the
transition from the protracted encounter between Helen and Paris (and
between Hector and Andromache) to the sudden release of the two brothers
into the battlefield; cf. 503–29n. Animals in the Homeric similes are not
usually under the control of human beings, and when they are, they may
display a will of their own, as here; cf. 11.558–62 (a stubborn donkey), and
20.403–5 (a bull that needs to be dragged to the altar), with Graziosi and
Haubold 2005: 87–8. δεσμὸν ἀπορρήξας: the runover drastically changes the
direction of the narrative. δεσμός (literally ‘shackles, chains’) suggests
imprisonment; ἀπόρρηξας points to a rare and exhilarating escape. θείηι: 3rd
pers. sing. pres. subj. of θέω, ‘run’. πεδίοιο ‘across the plain’; for the
genitive see 2n. κροαίνων ‘stamping’; another rare and obscure word: only
here and at 15.264. Ancient readers gave the following explanations: (1)
‘beating with his feet’ (ἐπικροτῶν/ἐπικρούων τοῖς ποσίν), cf. 5.503–4; Hes.
Sc. 61–3, etc. This is the modern explanation too; cf. Chantraine 1999 s.v.
κρούω. (2) ‘neighing’ (χρεμετίζων). (3) ‘longing for’ (ἐπιθυμῶν), which
allegedly goes back to Archilochus; cf. ΣAbTD ad 6.507; Schlunk 1974:
27. In his reworking of the simile at Arg. 3.1260 Apollonius combines
‘stamping’ (1) and ‘neighing’ (2); Ennius and Virgil focus on the horse's
‘spirit’ (3); and Virgil's horse neighs too (2): Aen. 11.496.

508 The horse's natural habitat is the open countryside, not the stable
(Fagan 2001: 110); similarly, Paris and Hector were out of place inside the
city. εἰωθώς ‘used to’, from ἔωθα, the initial epsilon is lengthened to fit the
metre; for ει = ē, cf. 113n. (βείω). λούεσθαι…ποταμοῖο ‘to bathe in the
river’. Epic λούομαι usually takes the dative, except for rivers, which are in
the genitive (e.g. 5.6; cf. Od. 6.216: λοῦσθαι ποταμοῖο ῥοῆισι). Horses do
not usually ‘have baths’: the verb λούω is used of people washing horses;
cf. 23.282. At Aen. 11.495 Virgil has perfundi (rather than lauari), which is
appropriate for animals (Varro, Rust. 1.13.3 boues…perfunduntur). ἐϋρρεῖος
ποταμοῖο (< ἐϋρρεής, cf. ἐϋρρείτης, -ρροος) is formulaic in this position;
Virgil has flumine noto (cf. 511n. ἤθεα καὶ νομόν), which is more sensitive to
context.

509–11 The description starts with the horse's head (509), then moves
down to his shoulders (510) and finally his knees (511); swiftness is the
main point of comparison with Paris, who is running fast (512–14n.), but
beauty is important too. Some ancient readers saw the mane as a source of
pride for the horse and drew a parallel with Paris’ hair: ΣbT ad 6.509; with
Schlunk 1974: 27–8. The grammatical subject changes frequently in these
lines (the horse: 509; the mane: 509–10; the horse again: 510; its knees:
511). The sequence culminates in an expressive break in the syntax at 510–
11, which parallels the unencumbered movement of the horse: Kirk 1990:
226.

509 κυδιόων ‘rejoicing’, ‘glorying’ (< κῦδος; cf. 124n. (κυδιανείρηι), 204n.
(κυδαλίμοισι)). A rare verb, mostly used in the participle at the beginning of
a runover line, as here: 2.579, 15.266; Hes. Sc. 27. It describes a sense of
pleasure, esp. about one's own superiority over others; cf. 2.579–80 and
21.519. The word is characteristic of gods and human beings rather than
animals (LfgrE s.v. κυδιάω); here it suggests that Paris is well pleased with
himself (cf. ΣbT quoted at 505n. and καγχαλόων at 514n.). ὑψοῦ δὲ κάρη
ἔχει: a sign of high spirits; contrast the grieving horses at 17.437 and
23.283–4. As often in Homeric similes, an initial subjunctive marks the
comparison as hypothetical, while vivid parenthetic descriptions follow in
the indicative; see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 355–6. ἀμϕὶ δὲ χαῖται: ἀμϕί
is typically used as an adverb with parts of the body (Chantraine 1948–53:
vol. II, 86; and Fritz 2005: 73–6), though here it can also be construed as a
preposition with ὤμοις (510n.).

510 From the horse's head we move down to its shoulders. ὤμοις: the
dative can be construed with ἀμϕί but can also stand on its own, as a
locative; cf. 509n., Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 84. ἀΐσσονται: the mane lit.
‘darts’ on either side, i.e. flows in the wind; the middle forms of ἀΐσσω tend
to refer to the swift movement of body parts, as here. At Aen. 11.496 Virgil
uses emicat, a close equivalent of Greek ἀΐσσω, of the whole horse rather
than its mane. ὃ δ᾽ ἀγλαΐηϕι πεποιθώς ‘confident in his splendour’, cf. Paris
at 505n.: ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι πεποιθώς. Paris, like the horse, is beautiful and
fast. The word ἀγλαίη is rare in the Iliad (only here and at 15.267); though
more common in the Odyssey, where it occurs only in character speech,
conveying a subjective impression of beauty and well-being: e.g. Od. 15.78
(also in conjunction with κῦδος, as here), 17.244 (of a self-satisfied man),
18.180–1, 19.81–2 (of women), Od. 17.309–10 (of a dog). The rare verb
ἀγλαΐζεσθαι is associated with horses at Il. 10.329–31. The old ending -ϕι
can be used as a dative or a genitive, singular or plural. Here it serves as a
metrically distinct alternative to the dative singular in -ηι; cf. Chantraine
1948–53: vol. I, 237; Ruijgh 1995: 72.
511 The description of the horse climaxes with this entirely dactylic,
‘galloping’ line: Kirk 1990: 226. ῥίμϕά ἑ γοῦνα ϕέρει: the phrase poses two
problems, one semantic, one grammatical. (1) the expression ‘swiftly his
knees carry him’ is unusual: knees are not otherwise said to carry or convey
anyone in Greek epic. (2) the nominative participle πεποιθώς in 510 made
us expect the horse to be the subject of the main verb, but in fact the horse
is the object. Zenodotus tried to address both difficulties by reading ῥίμϕ᾽
ἑά, which makes matters worse. In fact, there is no problem: (1) is easily
solved if we compare the new Cologne Papyrus of Sappho, line 13, γόνα δ᾽
οὐ ϕέροισι (see Gronewald and Daniel 2004: 5 and 7). What we evidently
have here is an expressive variation on the common πόδες ϕέρον; cf. 514n.
below. Problem (2) exemplifies the malleability of Homeric syntax, where
abrupt changes of subject reflect the structures of the spoken language; cf.
Slings 1992: 96–101, with detailed discussion of 6.510–11. Here, however,
the loose syntax seems stylistically motivated, rather than simply a matter
of spoken language (see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 356; and Kirk 1990:
226). Ennius’ fert sese, which is correct Latin, stems from a creative
misunderstanding of ϕέρει ἑ; cf. Eustathius II, p. 377: 8–9 van der Valk. For
the accentuation of ῥίμϕά ἑ, cf. 251n. (ἔνθα). ἤθεα καὶ νομόν ‘the familiar
pastures’. In epic, ἤθεα often means ‘dwelling place’; it thus suggests that
the horse is returning to where he belongs; cf. Virgil's flumine noto at Aen.
11.495. ἵππων: mares, according to Virgil (Aen. 11.494), who perhaps takes
inspiration from Homer's analogy between Paris, the womaniser, and the
horse. Homeric ἵππος can be either masculine or feminine.

512–14 Paris’ shining appearance evokes images of Achilles at the height

of his powers, shortly before he kills Hector: see 505n. (ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι
πεποιθώς), and 513n. Paris’ own approach to Hector in the next lines,
however, reveals his vanity and insecurity: there is a sharp contrast between
Paris’ appearance and his words at 517–19n; cf. the depiction of Helen in
this book: she looks like the perfect wife (323n., 324n., with 318–24n.) but
does not talk like one (337–9n. and 349–53n.).

512 ὥς picks up ὡς at 506; cf. 149 with 146n. υἱὸς Πριάμοιο: the only time
in the Iliad that Paris is honoured with this epithet; contrast, e.g., 12.93–5.
Now that Paris is ready to fight, the poet emphasises his connection to
Priam, and to his brother Hector, cf. ἀδελϕεόν at 515–16n., and see also
76n. (Πριαμίδης); earlier in the book Paris seemed hateful and isolated from
the rest of his family (see esp. 280–5n.). κατὰ Περγάμου ἄκρης: Pergamos is
the name of the Trojan acropolis, where Paris had his house built: 317n. (ἐν
πόλει ἄκρηι). It is rare in Homer and tends to be associated with Priam and
his family, as here, or with Apollo. For further discussion, see Stoevesandt
2008: 159.

513 ∼ 19.398, of Achilles: 512–14n. The main verb, in necessary

enjambment, is further postponed by a participle phrase and by another
short simile. The effect is ebullient: it suggests sparkling beauty and barely
contained high spirits. τεύχεσι παμϕαίνων: shining Hector took off his
gleaming helmet in order to reassure his son (472–3n.). Now Paris’
appearance helps to restore the impression of brilliance that characterises
the heroes, cf. 31n. (δῖος) and Introduction 2.6. ὥς τ᾽: another simile,
introduced by the generalising epic τε; cf. 127n. ἠλέκτωρ: epithet of the sun
at 19.398 and Hom. Hymn 3.369; its precise meaning was debated also in
antiquity, cf. ΣD ad 6.513. It is clearly related to ἤλεκτρον, ‘amber’,
possibly understood as ‘sun drops’: LfgrE s.v. ἤλεκτρον. The parallels at
19.398 and Hom. Hymn 3.369 suggest power as well as brilliance. ἐβεβήκει:
cf. 312–13n.

514 καγχαλόων ‘exulting’ takes up κυδιόων at 509n., in the same metrical

position. This unusual verb normally expresses triumphant joy at a victory
(e.g. 10.565, Od. 23.1, etc.); here it seems a little premature. For the
diectasis (-όων) see 148n. (πηλεθόωσα). ταχέες δὲ πόδες φέρον: a variant of
common πόδες φέρον, in the same metrical position. The phrase, even
without ταχέες, suggests swiftness: 13.515 (ῥίμφα), 15.405 with 402
(σπεύσομαι), 17.700 with 691 and 698 (αἶψ᾽…θέων, βῆ δὲ θέειν), etc. αἶψα δ᾽
ἔπειτα: as in the formula αἶψα δ᾽ ἔπειθ᾽ ἵκανε (370n.), the three words
introduce a swift arrival.

515–16 This is the only explicit reference to the encounter between Hector
and Andromache in the Iliad, and it marks a change of tone in the main
narrative. The perspective is now that of men who are about to face death
on the battlefield: to them, the encounter between Hector and Andromache
is ‘love talk’; see Introduction 5. ἐτέτμεν: 374n. ἀδελϕεόν after the main
verb, and the main caesura, gives the traditional Ἕκτορα δῖον a more
personal inflection. Hector goes on to tell Paris how hard it is to be his
brother: 523–4n. εὖτ᾽ ἂρ ἔμελλε picks up ἔμελλε at 393n.: the verb frames, in
ring composition, the drawn-out, painful encounter between Hector and
Andromache. The particle ἄρ (2n.) draws attention to the sudden encounter
between the two brothers. στρέψεσθ᾽ ἐκ χώρης ὅθι ‘to turn from the place
where’; cf. LfgrE s.v. στρέϕω B I 2 b α; the closest parallel is Od. 16.352.
Hector was looking at Andromache when she left (496n.) and now is still
facing in the direction of the city. After moving quickly for most of book 6,
in order to return to the battle, he now seems painfully still; Paris, by
contrast, is galloping towards the plain. ὀάριζε γυναικί describes an intimate
conversation; see esp. 22.126–8 (Hector realises he cannot sweet-talk
Achilles; for the relationship between that passage and the present line, see
N. J. Richardson 1993: 120); cf. 13.291 and 17.228, where – in the context
of battle exhortation – references to ὀαριστύς seem grimly sarcastic; for
further discussion: Loraux 1995: 81; and Van Nortwick 2001, esp. 221–2
and 233–4. The focus is now exclusively on the couple (the baby and the
nurse do not feature); and this highlights Hector's delicate position.

517–19 At 341n. Paris boasted that he would catch up with Hector. Now,
as he runs towards the Gates and sees his brother – seemingly idle, and
facing towards him (515–6n.), he states that, surely, he has made Hector
wait. The tone of this remark is difficult to gauge and was debated also in
antiquity: ancient readers thought that Paris was disingenuously asking a
question: 518n. (ἦ μάλα δή). Although his speech is, formally, a statement,
Paris may be indirectly asking for a compliment. He thus comes across
simultaneously as self-defeating and boastful, insensitive towards Hector
and afraid of him.

517 The fact that Paris now speaks first confirms that he has caught Hector
at a difficult moment: 122n. τόν: cf. 9n. Ἀλέξανδρος θεοειδής: cf. 290n. The
formula, like the simile at 503–14, draws attention to Paris’ beauty – and
hence to his devastating role in the downfall of Troy.
518 Paris now claims he is holding up Hector, in his impetus to return to
the battlefield. In fact, the immediate context suggests the reverse: Paris is
running towards the battlefield but now stops in order to talk to Hector. ἠθεῖ᾽
is generally used to address an older brother, or somebody senior, with the
intention to help: cf., e.g., 10.37–41 (Menelaos to Agamemnon); 23.94–6
(Achilles to Patroclus); Hes. Sc. 103–14 (Iolaos to Heracles); 22.229–31
(Athena, disguised as Hector's favourite brother Deiphobos); for discussion
see Bettini 1988. ἦ μάλα δή: the exact force of this expression is unclear,
but cf. 255n., where it also introduces a supposition that is in some way
problematic for the speaker, and the addressee; translate: ‘I assume’,
‘surely’. ΣAbT ad 6.518c claim that ἦ is interrogative: ‘Did I make you
wait?᾽ The expression ἦ μάλα δή, however, does not introduce a question
anywhere else in Homer. καὶ ἐσσύμενον ‘even though you are rushing
forward’. This statement seems disingenuous: Hector did leave his own
home in a rush (390n.: ἀπέσσυτο), but he is now standing still, in the place
where he met Andromache (515–16n.). κατερύκω: all the people Hector
encountered in the city tried to hold him back (258n., 340n., 354n., 431n.),
but this is not the case now.

519 δηθύνων: Paris flatly contradicts the poet's assertion that he wasted no
time in getting ready: 503n. His own words thus seem insincere or insecure
and designed to elicit a compliment: 520–9n. οὐδ᾽…ἐκέλευες: Paris did
actually follow Hector's commands. ἐναίσιμον: adverbial, ‘at the right time’.
The adjective is not otherwise used as an adverb, nor does it normally refer
to time; ἐναίσιμος generally implies a judgement about what is ‘according to
fate’ (cf. 62n.), and hence just and proper (cf., e.g., 2.353, where it is used
of signs from the gods; and 24.40, where it characterises basic human
decency). Paris judges his own timely arrival as a matter of great
significance. Hector responds by using the same word, ἐναίσιμος, in order to
describe an objective judge of his brother's character: 521n.

520–9 Hector immediately responds to the main thrust of Paris’ speech

(517–19n.) and pays him a compliment: any fair and objective man would
agree that Paris is brave (522n.). This is a surprising statement, and Hector
immediately qualifies it (523n.) – and then remembers his own anguish
when the Trojans criticise Paris (524–5n.). Hector is concerned with what
others say and think, and he lets their opinions shape his own response; cf.
the τις-speeches embedded in his own earlier statements at 460–1n., and
479n. Now he suggests a contrast between what an objective judge of Paris’
abilities might say, and what the Trojans actually say about him: it is down
to Paris to confirm one opinion or the other (523n.). Hector also lets his
brother know that he too faces a dilemma, for he understands the soldiers
who risk their lives for Paris but also feels loyal to his own brother: 524–5n.
He then moves swiftly on: ἀλλ᾽ ἴομεν (526n.); any difficulties can be solved
later – if Zeus grants them victory, and a chance to celebrate together ἐν
μεγάροισιν (528n.). Structurally, this speech echoes Hector's earlier address
to Paris (325–31n.), in ring composition: both start with δαιμόνι᾽ (326n.,
521n.), emphasise the plight of the Trojans (327n., 524–5n.) and press for
swift action (331n., 526n.). The final images, however, are different: at
331n. Hector describes Troy going up in flames; whereas now he holds on
to an image of victory, and peace. He needs hope in order to face the
enemy: 526–9n. Hector's speech ends the book; unusually, the speech-
concluding line starts the next book; no parallels in the Iliad, but cf. Od.
8.586–9.1, 12.453–13.1. On book division, see further Introduction 3.

520 One of the most common speech introductions in epic; see M. Parry
1971: 15–16. Here it presents Hector's speech as a neutral response; for a
similar effect, cf. 359n. ἀπαμειβόμενος ‘in reply’. The compound form ἀπό
+ ἀμείβομαι (‘exchange’) is only used of speech.

521 δαιμόνι᾽: Hector used the same word when he addressed Paris in his
previous speech; for discussion, cf. 326n. The expression δαιμόνι᾽ οὐ…
seems to have formulaic integrity in itself: 2.190, 6.326, Od. 18.15, 23.174.
ἄν: the particle with the optative does not describe a remote or general
possibility, but rather someone's ability to express a positive view of Paris:
Willmott 2007: 138–40. τις: cf. 520–9n. ὃς ἐναίσιμος εἴη: Hector responds to
Paris’ own use of the word (519n.) and corrects it.

522 ἔργον ἀτιμήσειε μάχης: the verb ἀτιμάω/ἀτιμάζω usually takes the
person that is slighted in the accusative; but there are parallels for Hector's
impersonal, more tactful, phrasing: cf. μῦθον ἀτιμήσει᾽/ἀτιμήσαιτε at 9.62
and 14.127. For the manly expression ‘war work’, cf., e.g., μέγα ἔργον
Ἄρηος at 11.734, and ϕυλόπιδος μέγα ἔργον at 16.208. The phrase πολεμήϊα
ἔργα and related expressions are often used to describe characters who are
not suitable for war: e.g. 2.338 (boys), 5.428 (Aphrodite), 7.236 (a woman),
11.719 (a young man), 13.730–4 (men with other talents). ἄλκιμός ἐσσι ‘you
are brave’ (< ἀλκή; cf. 112n.). Hector's claim is at best controversial.
Several characters, in the course of the poem, claim the opposite, including
Hector himself at 3.45; cf. also Helen's assessment at 3.428–36. The spear
is the only weapon that takes the adjective ἄλκιμος (3.338, 10.135 = 14.12
etc.), and Paris has damaged his when fighting against Menelaos: 322n.

523 Hector now explains his previous claim: Paris does not have the will to
fight. This is an attempt to hold Paris accountable for his past behaviour (cf.
328–9n.) but Hector does not linger on that point now, also because Paris
seems, for once, ready to fight. At 3.38–75 Hector criticises his brother
harshly and at length, and Paris resists and corrects his remarks; for the
difficulties of holding Paris responsible for his actions, see also 7.347–79
and 13.769–88. ἑκὼν μεθίεις echoes μεθιέντα at 330n., but with an emphasis
on choice (e.g. 23.585, Od. 2.132–7; Hes. Theog. 232 and Op. 282–5). The
expression is almost paradoxical: it describes wilful neglect; cf. 13.232–4,
Od. 4.371–4. οὐκ ἐθέλεις: at 281–2n. Hector ardently hoped that Paris would
‘want’ to listen to him (αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέληισ᾽ εἰπόντος ἀκουέμεν), at 336n. Paris
revealed that he stayed away from battle because he ‘wanted’ to abandon
himself to grief (ἔθελον δ᾽ ἄχεϊ προτραπέσθαι). Now Hector again
emphasises that everything depends on what Paris wants. τὸ δ᾽ ἐμὸν κῆρ
marks a shift of focus to the speaker's own emotions; cf. the related phrase
αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ at 19.319, Od. 4.259; cf. also Od. 9.459. The basic meaning
of κῆρ is ‘heart’ (cf. Cheyns 1985: 29–42 and 67–73; Sullivan 1996; and
Clarke 1999: 53–4, 74, 79).

524–5 The scholia bT ad 6.523–4 rightly point out that Hector has recently
been criticised for the behaviour of his brothers (see 5.473–6) and more
generally assume that he feels obliged to defend Paris. For Hector's feelings
of frustrated loyalty, and powerlessness in relation to Paris, see esp. 280–5n.
ἄχνυται ἐν θυμῶι: the verb ἄχνυμαι/ἄχομαι/ἀκαχίζω/ἀχέω/ἀχεύω (< ἄχος; cf.
336n., 486n.; Mawet 1979: 330–49) is typically used together with the noun
θυμός (51n.), or with a word denoting the ‘heart’ (κῆρ, κραδίη, ἦτορ). Here
Hector refers to both his spirit and his heart, emphasising his great distress;
for the heart being located in the θυμός, see Jahn 1987: 17–18. ὑπὲρ σέθεν
‘for your sake’, ‘on your behalf’. Hector does not simply hear ‘about’ Paris
(περί); he suffers because of him; cf. Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 137. The
old separative ending -θεν is treated as a genitive: 62n. (ἕθεν). αἴσχε᾽: 351n.
πρὸς Τρώων: the addition, in progressive enjambment, draws attention to
Hector's complicated relationship with the Trojans; cf. 361n., 362n., as well
as 441–6n. and 442n. For πρός + genitive, see 57n. οἳ…σεῖο: this remark
echoes 328–9n., but – as the scholia T ad 6.525 point out – Hector now
pleads for understanding. πόνον: cf. 77n. The present passage shows that,
Aristarchus’ theory notwithstanding, πόνος does have connotations of
suffering in Homer.

526–9 Hector now briskly turns to action and dismisses his previous
concerns: his final image of future peace is in stark contrast with the present
reality. (The city and the halls are now the domain of women: Introduction
3.3.) It also contradicts Hector's earlier visions of the future, esp. 447–9n.,
but Hector now insists that he does not know what will happen (αἴ κέ ποθι
Ζεύς: 526n.; cf. οὐ γάρ τ᾽ οἶδ᾽: 367n.), and his predictions are in part
designed to make the present bearable; cf. his prayer at 475–81n. and
22.226–53, esp. 253, where Hector needs to believe in the possibility of
victory in order to stop running away from Achilles.

526 ∼ 4.362; cf. Od. 22.55. The parallels suggest that Hector comes close
to apologising. ἀλλ᾽ ἴομεν: formulaic in this position; cf. 10.126, 251,
11.469, Od. 2.404, 10.549 and 24.437 – all of which call for action at the
end of a speech. For the subjunctive with short vowel, see 230–1n. τὰ δ᾽
‘those things’; Hector remains suitably vague: cf. 70n. (καὶ τά) and 441n.
(τάδε πάντα). ἀρεσσόμεθ’: future of ἀρέσαι (aorist), ‘make amends’ (cf.
ἀραρίσκω, ‘join’); for discussion see Pernée 1988, and Scodel 2008a: 102–
3. Hector takes responsibility, though the 1st pers. plur. suggests a certain
vagueness (cf. 4.362 but contrast 9.120 ∼ 19.138; Od. 8.396 and 415). αἴ κέ
ποθι Ζεύς ‘if somehow Zeus…᾽ The phrase is used of wishes whose
fulfilment seems unlikely but not impossible. Homeric πόθι and ποθι
correspond to ποῦ = ‘where?᾽, and που = ‘somewhere, somehow’; and they
are clearly used in that sense at Od. 1.170 (πόθι) and Il. 19.273 (ποθι). LSJ
offer the translation ‘at some time’ for this passage, following early readers
who glossed ποθι = ποτε, ‘at some point, ever’ (ΣD ad 1.128); but the
temporal emphasis is almost certainly misleading: cf. LfgrE s.v. πόθι, ποθι
B 2 b. For αἴ κε with the subjunctive see Chantraine 1948–53: vol. II, 211;
cf. 94n.

527–9 A very compressed description of a thanksgiving ritual; cf. Od.

2.431–2. Hector offers only a fleeting image of victory.

527 δώηι: cf. 1.129, Od. 12.216, 22.253. For forms of διδόναι in prayers
and related contexts see 307n., 476. ἐπουρανίοισι…αἰειγενέτηισι: this
unusual phrase, with two weighty epithets, extends Hector's wish into the
next line. θεοῖς αἰειγενέτηισι is formulaic in the context of prayer (3.295–6,
20.104–5), sacrifice (3.295–6 Od. 14.446) and libation (Od. 2.432), i.e.
when the gods are imagined as accessible and beneficial; for the exact
meaning of the epithet, which was debated also in antiquity, see LfgrE s.v.
αἰειγενέτης Σχ and B; translate ‘everlasting’. The adjective ἐπουράνιος,
which is here displaced from its normal position at the end of the line,
describes the gods as awesome, unapproachable beings: it is not used in the
context of prayer or sacrifice, but rather when human beings come into
conflict with the divine; cf. 128–9n., 131–2n. and Od. 17.484–7. The
unique combination of these two epithets may reflect Hector's precarious
state of mind, between hope and despair.

528 κρητῆρα: mixing bowls unite the people who draw their drink from
them. They are used for many different purposes: 3.295–6 (confirming a
truce), 10.578–9 (thanksgiving after a successful expedition), Od. 3.393–4
(a drinks party in the house of Nestor), Od. 7.179–81 (welcoming a
stranger) and 13.49–56 (after-dinner drinks in the house of Alcinous), etc.
Hector refused to drink wine or make a libation at 264–8; now he looks
forward to a time when he will be able to drink together with the other
Trojan men. In the Iliad descriptions of mixing bowls are common on the
Achaean side, but the only time a κρητήρ features on the Trojan side is
when the ill-fated truce between the two sides is sealed: 3.245–8 and 295–6.
στήσασθαι: for ‘setting up’ a mixing bowl (ἵστημι), cf. 9.202. ἐλεύθερον: cf.
ἐλεύθερον ἦμαρ ἀπούρας (455n.). Here the mixing bowl marks the day on
which the Trojans finally celebrate their freedom; see Raaflaub 1981: 191–
2. ἐν μεγάροισιν: the normal place for drinking parties; though in this time
of war, the city and its halls are the domain of women: 286–7n., 371n.

529 Hector offers a fleeting image of victory also at 15.497–9, in order to

motivate the Trojans to risk their lives. Τροίης: cf. 207n. ἐϋκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς
‘well-greaved Achaeans’ (< κνημίς, greave; cf., e.g., 3.330); a common
noun–epithet phrase in this position; in the Iliad the adjective is used
exclusively of the Achaeans.
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 Indices

References in italics are to pages of the Introduction; references in roman

type are to lemmata in the Commentary.

General
Abarbaree 22, 25
Ableros 32
accentuation, 289, 290, 379, 412, 434, 511 73, 95, 116, 172, 251
Achaeans, 498, 529 5, 85, 106–7, 222–3, 230–1
best of 5–11, 96–8, 98, 228
hierarchy among 5–36
sons of 255
see also Ahhijawā
Achilles, 282–3, 306–7, 319, 320, 326, 331, 340, 360, 373, 402, 414–28,
414, 415, 417–20, 417, 418–19, 421–4, 413, 424, 427, 436–7, 475–81,
504, 505, 512–14, 515–16, 518 27, 33, 37, 45, 47, 32, 34–5, 68–9, 75,
96–8, 98, 99–100, 112, 127, 150–1, 156, 164, 186, 194–5, 208, 215,
228, 236, 254
and the sack of Thebes, 414–28
human counterpart of Apollo, 428
see also Agamemnon; Andromache; Diomedes; Eetion; Hector; Paris
Adramyttion, 397
Adrestos 5–6, 37–8, 38–41, 39, 42–3, 45, 46, 47, 49, 50, 51–65, 51, 52–3,
53–4, 55–61, 61–5, 65
Aeacus, 282–3, 434
aegis, 419–20
Aegisthus, 337 187, 198
Aeneas, 472–3 27, 29, 37, 72–118, 74, 75, 77, 78, 79, 80, 90–1, 102–9,
194–5
and Achilles, 424 37, 120, 150–1, 211
and Priam 75
Aeolic dialect, 325, 335 22, 53, 94, 261
Aethiopis 32, 111, 186
Agamemnon, 337, 344, 360, 447–9, 454 29, 34–5, 51–65, 53–4, 62, 66–71,
116–17, 187
 and Achilles 66–71, 68–9
and Menelaos, 518 51–65, 54, 55, 56, 58
and Nestor 66–71
characterisation of 51–65, 55–61, 58–61
epithets of 33, 44, 46, 63
Ahhijawā 5
see also Achaeans
Aiolos, ancestor of Glaukos 154
Aiolos, ruler of the winds, 337
Aisepos 20–8, 21, 26–7
Ajax, son of Oïleus, 436, 465 28
Ajax, son of Telamon, 319, 436–7, 436, 466 17, 20, 23, 36, 39, 49, 5–36, 5–
11, 5, 6, 10, 29, 31, 55, 168, 226, 235, 239
Akamas 5–11
Akrisios 157, 159
Alakšandu see Paris
Alcinous, palace of, 528 242–52, 243
Alexandrian scholarship 57–8
see also Aristarchus; Aristophanes; Zenodotus
Alexandros see Paris
Amazons 111, 178–86, 186, 187
ambush 187–90, 187, 188, 189, 190
Amisodaros 170
Ammonius 76
anaphora, 450, 454–63, 487–9
anastrophe 15
Anchises, 289
Andromache, 371, 372, 373, 378, 379–80, 395–8, 405–39, 414–28, 433,
471, 482–93, 494–502 30–2, 33, 35–6, 44–56
and Achilles, 414–28, 427, 475–81 45
and Astyanax, 372, 389, 404, 466–81, 475–81, 482–93 15, 45, 51
and Hector see Hector
and Helen, 366, 378, 394 42–3
and her housekeeper, 369–91, 381–9 30, 44
and her mother, 414–28, 425–8, 425 45
as memorial to Hector, 454–63, 460–1
as slave, 454–63, 455, 457, 463, 465 46, 49
 as widow, 408, 432 52
as wife, 366, 394, 398, 431, 441, 460 50–2, 241
brothers of, 414–28, 421–4, 421, 430 45
father of see Eetion
grief of, 408, 413, 486, 500 30, 51
madness of see madness
name of, 371, 492–3 50
tears of, 405, 454–63, 455, 459, 484, 496
use of language, 405–39, 407–13, 413, 414–28, 414, 423, 426, 431, 434,
436–7 13, 18, 45–6
Anteia, 389 156, 160–5, 161, 163, 167–70, 167, 192
epithet of 160
use of language 13, 160–5, 164, 165
Antenor, 298 252
Antilochos 5, 32
Antimachus 236
aorist: athematic, 374 205
factitive 189
in -έειν, 307 82
intransitive, 410, 468 106
mixed, 288 53, 136
part. expresses concomitant action, 484
reduplicated, 285, 374 12, 50, 66, 122
root, 291 19, 185, 253
stem, 409, 422 16–17
with final long alpha 16–17
with final short alpha 64
Aphrodite, 289, 468, 522 3, 27, 31, 75, 90–1, 90
and Helen, 336, 344–8, 347, 354
and Paris, 336 41–2
birth of, 344–8, 347
apocope 164, 201
Apollo, 321–2, 428, 434, 469–70, 512 27, 38, 31, 73–4, 123, 143, 147–8
apostrophe 4–5
Archilochus, 507
Ares 3, 27, 5–11, 67, 73, 81, 112, 116, 203–5, 203, 205
Aretaon 31
Argives, 323, 457 66, 106–7, 159
Argos, 456 27, 66, 152, 157, 159, 168, 221, 224–9, 224
Ariosto 38
Arisbe 13
Aristarchus, 285, 415, 434, 479 58, 76, 96, 128–9, 157, 170, 187, 218, 252
athetised lines, 311, 318–20
geographical speculation 4
on ‘apodotic’ δέ, 475
on character speech 152
on duals 120, 121
on grammatical agreement, 290
on inappropriate epithets 160
on metathesis 71
on origins of Homer 120
on πόνος, 524–5 77, 107
on pronouns 90
on redundant κε 260
aristeia, 304–10, 311, 504 96–8
Aristophanes, comic poet 49
see under Index of passages
Aristophanes of Byzantium, Homeric scholar 58, 121, 148
Aristotle, 339 39
Artemis 180, 203–5, 205
epithets of, 428 205
Arthur Katz, M. 31
articles, 292, 435, 489 9
assonance see word play
Astarita Crater, 300
Asteropaios 127, 145
Astyalos 29
Astyanax, 400–3, 466–81, 469–70, 469, 470, 474, 475–81, 479, 480, 481,
482–93, 482–3 7, 15, 19, 26, 45, 47, 51, 56
and Andromache see Andromache
and Hector see Hector
compared to star, 401
names of, 400–3, 402, 403, 478
Astydamas 50, 52
Athena, 304–10, 304, 311, 325, 380, 518 27–8, 30, 33, 38
and Diomedes, 304–10, 311 86–98
attitude towards Troy, 305, 311 28, 86–98
epithets of, 269, 305, 311
offering for, 269–78, 286–311, 297–311, 300, 379–80 27–8, 90–1
priestess of, 311 28, 32 see Theano
see under statue of
temple of, 317, 379 27, 30, 32, 88, 89, 93–4
Athens 28, 49–50, 56, 86–98, 90–1, 92, 167–70
Attic dialect, 266, 270, 280 22, 49, 61, 94, 109, 174, 194, 258
Attic script, 291, 353
audiences, 321–2, 357–8, 358, 381–9 37–8, 119, 124–5, 197, 252
ancient, 284, 305, 306–7 23, 28–9, 32–3, 37, 38, 41, 43, 50, 6, 34–5, 63,
155–205, 167–70, 219, 237–41, 248–50, 255
and performance see performance
and the poet 2–5
engagement of, 381–9, 402, 422, 438–9, 467–70 20–1, 23–4, 44, 1
knowledge of, 280–5, 306–7, 311, 372–3, 379–80, 466–81 6–8, 25–6, 27,
32, 37, 38, 41, 50, 123–43, 155–205, 200–2
response to traditional features 14–15, 17, 19
authorial comments see Homer
Axylos 12–20, 12, 13, 14, 16–17, 18

Bakker, E. J. 13, 20, 22–3

Babylon see Gilgamesh, Poem of; Mesopotamia; Standard Babylonian
Batieia, 418–19 152
beauty, 294, 295, 312–17, 325, 371, 509–11, 510, 513, 517 18, 33, 156,
191, 195
Bellerophontes 10, 37, 150–211, 155–205, 155, 156, 160–5, 171, 178–86,
185, 187–90, 191–5, 192, 224–9
and Heracles 155, 178–86
and Lycurgus 200–2, 200
and Oineus 215–21, 218, 219, 224–9
and Proitos 157, 158, 159, 166, 167–70
and Proitos’ father-in-law 167–70, 170, 173, 176, 187–90
and the gods 155–205, 155, 156, 171, 183, 191–5, 191, 198–9, 200–2,
201
 and Tydeus 183, 187–90, 215–21
downfall of 200–2
epithets of 155, 162, 171, 190, 216
wife of 192
see also Amazons; Anteia; Chimaira; gods; Pegasos; Poseidon;
Solymoi
Bidlo, M. 54
body language, 311, 321–2, 340–1, 354, 394, 474, 485, 515–16 24, 213,
233, 238, 251, 253
see also hands; laughter; silence; sitting
Boeotian dialect 22
book division see Iliad
bow see Paris
Briseis, 353, 405–39, 421 198
bronze, 319, 454, 469 38–9, 3, 11, 31, 48, 65, 116, 199, 236
Bronze Age, 280 32, 6, 67, 78, 207, 248–50
brothers, 280–5, 281–2, 395–8, 414–28, 421–4, 421, 429–30, 436, 450–3,
452–3, 481, 512, 515–16, 518, 520–9, 524–5 7, 22, 29, 35–6, 40–1, 43,
45, 46, 50, 20–8, 37–8, 44, 51–65, 55, 61, 76, 102, 157, 159, 216, 236
see also Agamemnon; Andromache; Hector
Brutus 50–2
bucolic diairesis, 285, 291, 407–13, 416 12, 13, 14
Bucolion 22
burial, 417–20, 417, 418–19, 419–20, 464

caesura, 265, 293, 311, 346, 496, 501, 515–16 11–12, 14, 8, 76, 176
Callisto 205
Cassandra, 465, 481 28
Cassio, A. C. 9, 56
Catalogue of Ships 1–4, 25, 195
Catalogue of Trojans 8, 37–8, 119
Catalogue of Women see Hesiod
catalogues, 436–7 16, 17, 1–71, 1–4, 2, 5–36, 5–11, 8, 9–11, 20, 37–65, 196
Catullus, 429–30 45
Cavafy, C. P., 494–502 55
Caylus, A. C. P. de Tubières, comte de 53
children, 280–5, 282–3, 347, 359–68, 366, 389, 399, 400–3, 400, 401, 402,
403, 404, 405–39, 408, 421, 432, 466–81, 466, 471, 474, 477, 482–3 7,
19, 24, 27, 36, 40–1, 47, 49, 59, 94–5, 95, 117–18, 127, 199, 244, 251
children's stories 36, 37, 155–205, 170, 190
Chimaira 20, 156, 178–86, 179, 180, 181, 183, 191
Chios 22
Chryse, 425–8
Chryseis, 425–8, 454
Chryses, 304
Cilicia, 395, 397 201
Circe, 354 244
Clampitt, A. 55
Clingham, G. 53
Clytaemnestra, 337 198
comedy 49–50
Contest of Homer and Hesiod 12, 23
see under Index of passages
Corinth 152
correption 11
counterfactual statements 73–4, 73, 75
crasis 11, 260
Cyme 22
Cypria, 289–92, 414–28
see under Index of passages
Cyprus, 347

dactyl, 511 10, 13, 164

Danaans 67
Dardanians 111
Dardanos, 395
David, J.-L. 54
de Chirico, G. 54
Deiphobos, 518
Demodocus 3–4
Dicaeopolis 49
diectasis, 268, 368, 415, 514 21, 6, 127, 148
digamma, 289, 474, 476, 492–3 11, 57, 16–17, 90, 91, 100–1, 174
Diomedes, 297–311, 306–7, 432, 436–7 17, 25, 27, 31, 34, 36–40, 5–36, 12,
20, 90–1, 100–1, 117–18, 119–22, 122, 123–43, 212–31, 224–9, 230–1
and Achilles, 307 12, 96–8, 98, 120, 127, 150–1, 228
and his father, Tydeus, 437 15, 38, 123–43, 222–3, 235
and the gods, 304–10, 311 86–98, 128–9, 130–40, 140–1, 228
spear of, 306, 432 97, 126, 213, 226
use of language 125–7, 125, 127, 128–9, 130–40, 139–40, 143, 214, 215,
226
see also Glaukos; Lycurgus
Dione 31, 130–1
Dionysia 50
Dionysos, 389 27, 50, 130–40, 132, 133, 134, 135, 137, 157
and the sea 136
Dönike, M. 54
Donlan, W. 39
double motivation, 332–41 42, 228
Dresos 20–8, 20
Dryden, J. 53
dual, 364, 436 39, 83, 112, 119–22, 120, 121, 232–3
Duffy, C. A., 401, 470 55

Edonians 130–40
Edwards, M. W. 41
Eetion, 395–8, 395, 396, 397, 414–28, 414–28, 417–20, 418–19, 426, 427
Egyptian, 429–30 42–3
see also Thebes, in Egypt
Elatos 33
elision, 280, 341, 413, 454 11, 13, 8, 9, 165, 222–3
expressive, 413 165
Ellerophontes 155
ellipsis, 264, 413, 477, 479, 480 29–36, 31, 33, 227
elm tree, 419–20
Elysian plain 201
enjambment, 387, 392–3, 408, 445, 450, 478, 496, 507, 509 12–13, 37–8,
53–4, 134, 159, 240
corrective 125, 260
introduces further information about a character, 299, 395–8, 395 13, 154
 necessary, 281–2, 324, 362, 408, 409, 412, 477, 482–3, 513 12, 11, 130–
1, 135, 139–40, 150–1, 157, 180, 222–3, 230–1
progressive, 299, 328–9, 395–8, 396, 410, 413, 430, 461, 492–3, 524–5
12, 13, 126, 137, 154, 195
repeated use of, 325–31, 327–30, 407–13, 506–11 13, 29–36, 31, 33, 36,
61–5, 138
Ennius 52
see under Index of passages
Ephyre 152
epic cycle, 465 28
see also Aethiopis; Cypria; Epigoni; Iliou Persis; Little Iliad; Thebaid
Epictetus, 492–3
Epigoni 222–3
see under Index of passages
epigram, 460–1, 460
epithets 14–16
ancient explanations of, 288, 311, 400, 428 162, 186
and context, 381, 390, 473, 498 15, 160, 186, 199, 235, 251
and focalisation, 374, 400–3 134
artificially formed, 292
characterising war, 330 1, 16–17, 124–5, 185, 254
clusters of, 266, 440, 466 155, 190
distinct use in singular and plural, 282–3, 299, 461 73
distinctive and/or generic, 267–8, 269, 282–3, 290, 315, 397, 416, 428,
454, 466, 529 8, 12, 22, 29, 31, 44, 205, 220, 234
effect in character speech, 377, 416, 423, 436–7, 437, 481, 527
elaboration of, 466, 469–70 14–15
gendered use of 31, 92
lack of, 476, 512 160, 163
meaning of, 350, 367, 371, 377, 380, 442, 467, 468 23, 26–7, 34–5, 88,
89, 92, 96, 111, 168, 171, 184
obscure, 269, 513
see also Artemis; Athena; Bellerophontes; Hector; Helen; Hephaistos;
Hera; Heracles; patronymics; Theano; wine; Zeus
Erichthonius, 461
Eteocles 237–41
Ethiopians 111
Euboean dialect 22
Eumaeus, 334
Eumelos 130–40
see under Index of passages
Euphorbos, 481
Euripides: Alexandros, 280–5 7, 41
Andromache, 456, 471 49
Bacchae 132
Hippolytus 160–5
see under Index of passages
Europa 198
Euryalos 17, 5–36, 20–8, 20, 28
Eurycleia, 381–9
Eurydice 50
Eurynome 136
Eurypylos 36
Eurysaces 49
exhortation, 515–16 16, 17, 58, 66–71, 66, 71, 83, 84, 99–100, 103, 105,
110–18, 110, 113, 114

Fantuzzi, M. 57–8
fate, 280–5, 357, 407–13, 408, 412, 443, 454–63, 458, 485–93, 487, 488,
519 26, 46, 62, 146–9, 155–205, 200, 241
determined at birth, 345, 489
fathers, 292, 317, 400–3, 403, 429–30, 437, 441–6, 474, 475–81, 479 15,
19, 37, 38, 46, 46, 47, 119, 155–205, 155, 206–11, 207, 209, 222–3,
251
Homer as father 56
see also Diomedes; Glaukos; Hector; patronymics
fig tree, 433 33, 45, 237
flyting 16, 36–7, 123–43, 211
focalisation, 374, 400–3, 404, 452–3, 470, 482–3, 484 19, 32, 166
Foley, H. P. 49
folk tale, 414–28, 421 155–205, 160–5, 170, 171, 178–86, 178, 187–90,
191–5, 191, 192, 193, 200–2
Ford, A. 24
foreshadowing, 405, 481 25–6, 33
formulae, flexibility of, 311, 372, 381, 390, 473, 495, 502, 504, 514 13–16,
32, 49, 51, 175, 187, 222–3, 241, 245–6, 260
in character speech, 413, 423
funeral lament, 405–39, 407–13, 410–11, 464, 494–502, 499 18, 30, 32, 46,
47, 55

gender roles, 336, 464–5, 482–93, 490–3 29–32, 45–46, 160–5, 161
genealogy 17, 37, 38, 20–8, 145, 150–211, 154, 196–9, 206–11, 211
Gilgamesh, Poem of 175
language of 22
Glaukos, son of Hippolochos 15, 17, 27, 34, 36–40, 119, 125, 154
and his father 15, 37, 119, 155–205, 206–11
and Sarpedon 37–8, 55, 198–9, 199
and the gods 140–1, 153, 155–205, 183, 191, 200–2, 200, 203–5
armour of 38–9, 123–43, 236
as narrator 37, 185, 190
characterisation of 37, 127
use of language 13, 21, 160–5, 162, 163, 170, 172, 203–5
views on the human condition 37–8, 146–9, 147, 147–8, 150–211
Glaukos, son of Sisyphos 154
glory
see under Index of Greek words s.v. κλέος
gods, 269, 349, 356, 419–20, 438, 475, 487, 499, 527 26–9, 36–7, 1–4, 1,
14, 76, 82, 115, 123, 128–9, 130–40, 171, 203–5
associated with gold 3, 236
carefree 138
difficult to identify 108
divine justice 160–5
do not eat grain 142
inscrutability of 27, 37, 140–1, 155–205, 155, 191, 198–9, 200–2, 203–5
language of 20, 4
relationship to Troy, 300 96
see also Aphrodite; Apollo; Ares; Artemis; Athena; Dionysos; double
motivation; fate; Hephaistos; Hera; Poseidon; prayer; ritual; Zeus
Goethe, J. W. von 53
gold, 320, 491–2 3, 48, 123–43, 205, 220, 230–1, 236, 242–52
Gorgias 43
 see under Index of passages
Griffith, M. 8, 49
guest-friendship, 395 15, 38–40, 174, 176, 212–31, 215–21, 218, 221, 222–
3, 224–9, 225, 230–1, 232–6
guslar see South Slavic epic

Hades, 284, 337, 487 19

hands, 266, 268, 301, 502 72–118, 81–2, 81, 233, 253
Hector, 441–6 8, 14–15, 30–6, 39, 40–1, 41–56, 75
and Achilles, 407–13 33, 47
and Andromache, 366, 369–91, 374–80, 393, 405–39, 407–13, 429–30,
429, 430, 431, 432, 440–65, 450–3, 454–63, 464–5, 481, 482–93,
482–3, 485–93, 486, 492–3, 494–502, 496, 500, 515–16 18, 19, 30–
1, 31–2, 33, 35–6, 44–7, 47–56, 110–18
and Astyanax, 366, 372, 401, 402, 403, 404, 466–81, 466, 467–70, 469,
470, 472, 474, 475–81, 476, 477, 478, 481, 482–93 7, 8, 15, 19, 24,
26, 31–2, 45, 47, 55–6
and Hecuba, 263–85, 263, 264–8, 264, 280–5, 451 7, 8, 31, 35, 40–1,
251, 254, 258–60, 258
and Helen, 343–58, 344, 350, 351, 354–6, 354, 355, 356, 358, 359–68,
360, 363 6–7, 35, 41–4, 251
and Paris, 263–85, 280–5, 325–31, 326, 328–9, 330, 332–41, 333, 340–1,
342, 353, 354–6, 363, 503–29, 512, 515–16, 517–19, 518, 520–9,
522, 523, 524–5 7, 35, 40–1, 41–4
and Priam, 441–6, 446, 451
and the Trojan men, 361, 362, 442, 520–9, 528 8, 35, 77–101, 110–18,
112
and the women of Troy, 369–91, 442 29, 30, 33, 35, 40, 43, 81–2, 114,
237–41, 258
and Zeus, 318, 475–81, 475
concern with the opinion of others, 441–6, 442, 443, 445, 446, 450, 454–
63, 479, 520–9 39
epithets of, 440, 461, 466, 469–70, 498 14–15
helmet of, 467–70, 469–70, 469, 470, 472–3, 473, 494–502, 494, 495
14–15, 19, 47, 49–50, 53, 55–6
house of, 317, 365, 366, 370, 390, 500 32
name of, 398, 403
 quest for glory, 357–8, 436, 440–65, 441–6, 446, 454–63
sense of duty, 264, 441–6, 454–63, 485–93, 487–9, 503–29 8, 26, 47
sense of shame, 280–5, 281–2, 441–6, 441, 442 46, 47
spear of, 318–24, 318, 319, 320
use of language, 280–5, 281–2, 285, 325–31, 339, 359–68, 374–80, 377,
440–65, 450–3, 454–63, 475–81, 476–8, 476, 477, 478, 479, 480,
492–3, 527 18, 21, 22, 26, 42, 44, 46
Hecuba, 293, 425 8, 18, 30, 32, 34–5, 40–1, 251
and Hector, 280–5, 282–3, 284, 288–95 7, 29
see under Hector, and Paris
characterisation of, 261 36, 40–1, 253–61, 254, 260
choice of garment for Athena, 286–311, 288–95, 295 28–9, 90–1, 90, 91
introduced as a mother, 264 87, 251
mentioned by name, 293
use of language 18, 21, 40, 255, 261
Helen, 282–3, 289, 292, 298, 318–24, 324, 359–68, 373, 378, 405–39 25,
29, 31, 34, 35, 251, 252
and blame, 328–9, 344–8, 344, 349–53, 349, 351, 356, 358, 359–68 34,
43
and disgrace, 351
and Hector, 332–41, 337–9, 337, 338, 350, 352, 353, 356, 363, 366, 394,
506–11 6, 31, 41–4
see under Hector, and Paris
and poetry, 348, 357–8, 357, 358 6–7, 43–4
as exemplary wife, 318–24, 512–14
as speaker, 343–58, 343, 344–8
born of Nemesis, 344–8, 351
epithets of, 292, 323
father of, 292, 344–8, 345 6
use of language, 349, 351, 353 18, 21, 42, 43
Helenos, 269–78, 297–311 27, 28, 29, 30, 34–5, 72–118, 75, 76, 77–101,
77, 106
perspective of 88–9, 99–100
use of language 81–2, 84, 86–98
Helikaon 252
Hellenistic scholarship see Alexandrian scholarship
Hellespont 32
Hephaistos, 326, 337 136, 236
epithets of, 324
Hera, 325, 337, 360 27, 136, 157, 163
epithets of, 305, 323, 371
Heracles, 518 178–86, 236
epithets of 155
sack of Troy 58–61
fathers of 155
Hermann's bridge 12, 13, 2, 157
Hermes, 337
Hermione, 366, 456
Herodian, 289
Herodotus, 289–92, 290 20, 25, 28, 57, 184, 201
see under Index of passages
heroes, heroism, 282–3, 450, 454, 487, 513 2, 10, 16, 17, 19, 22, 23, 34, 42,
46, 1, 3, 31, 34–5, 131–2, 148, 168–70, 180, 184–5, 188, 199
see under Index of Greek words s.v. ἥρως
Hesiod 2, 12, 20, 43
Catalogue of Women 160–5
Theogony 20, 184–5
Works and Days 148
see under Index of passages
hexameter see metre
hiatus, 306, 409, 476 11, 13
and caesura, 293, 311, 346, 501 8, 149, 175
merely apparent, 281–2, 341 11, 16–17
see also digamma
resulting from adaptation of formulae, 311 175
Hippolochos see Glaukos, son of Hippolochos
Hisarlik 32–3
Hittite, 280, 345 5, 61, 207
Homer 1–8
authorial comments of, 311 62, 232–6, 241
blindness of 4
broad appeal of 8–9, 22
oeuvre of, 289–92
origins of 1, 21–2, 120
 value judgements of 15, 16–17, 163
see also audiences; Muses; tragedy; vividness
Homeric Hymns, 305 20, 123, 130–40, 138
see under Index of passages
Homeric language 8–16, 18–23, 56–7
adverb vs. adjective, 462, 519 182, 194, 245–6
adverb vs. preposition, 320, 509
conflation of roots, 321–2
dialects 21–2
difficult forms, 285, 291, 403, 500
syntax, 280–5, 281–2, 475–81, 476–8, 478, 506–11, 511 23–3, 86–98,
164
variety of forms, 291 21–2, 12, 64, 99–100, 103, 170
see also Aeolic dialect; epithets; Ionic dialect; orality; parataxis;
particles; speeches
honour
see under Index of Greek words s.v. τιμή
hospitality see guest-friendship
housekeeper, 369–91, 381–9, 389 30, 44
see also Andromache
hyperbaton, 350, 392–3
Hyperenor, 481

Ida 32, 34–5

Iliad: date of composition 8–10, 56–7
book division, 520–9 24–5
transmission 57–8
Ilios 61, 96
see under Troy, Wilusa
Imbros, 395 32
insinuatio, 344–8
interpolation, 311 159
Iobates 170
Iolaos, 518
Ionic contraction, 280, 334, 409
Ionic dialect 11, 21–2, 6, 71, 94, 113, 261
see also metathesis of vowels
Iphiklos 34–5
Iris 252
Isandros 197, 203–5, 203
Ischia cup, 459 8

Jensen, M. S. 25

Kalesios 18, 19
Kauffmann, A. 53
Kisses, 299
‘Kosovo Girl’, 454–63
Kranaë 41
Kronos 234

Laertes, 334
Lakedaimon 41
see also Sparta
Lamachus 49
Laodameia 197, 198–9, 203–5, 205
Laodike, 378 30, 40, 237–41, 252
Laomedon, 461 33, 23, 24
Laothoe 63
laughter, 466–81, 471, 481, 482–93, 484
see also smiles
Leïtos 34–5
Leleges 34–5
Lesbos, 397
Lessing, G. E. 23
libation, 264–8, 266, 270, 527, 528 40, 258–60, 258
lies, 436–7 3, 163
lions 88, 179, 181
Locri, 436
Logue, C. 14, 20
Lohmann, D. 45
Longley, M., 475–81 55–6
Lord, A. B. 13
Lorimer, H. L. 28
Lukka see Lycia
Luwian, 429–30, 491–2
Lycia, Lycians 78, 111, 119, 168, 169, 172, 173, 179, 184, 187, 190, 199,
201, 225
Lycurgus 27, 36, 123–43, 130–40, 134, 136, 137, 139–40, 140–1, 200–2,
200
alter ego of Diomedes 130–1, 131–2
and Bellerophontes
see also Bellerophontes
Lysistrata 49

Macleod, C. W. 8, 58
madness, 381–9, 389 26, 30, 44, 100–1, 130–40, 132, 157, 160
Mandelstam, O., 496 55
martial exhortation see exhortation
Martin, R. 39
Mekisteus 28
Melanippos 5
Melanthios 36
Meleager, 326 216
men: and civic space, 528 33
and women see women
in exhortation 112
solidarity among, 359–68, 362, 520–9 17, 31, 112, 114
Menelaos, 298, 337, 350, 351, 366, 481, 518 33, 41, 12, 37–8, 42–3, 44, 46,
51–65, 52–3, 55, 56, 184, 201, 242–52
afterlife of see Elysian plain
and Agamemnon see Agamemnon
characterisation of 51–65
palace of, 314 242–52
reaction to Adrestos 51
reaction to Agamemnon 61
Menoitios 208
Mesaulios, 323
Mesopotamia, 345, 429–30 22
Mestor, 452–3
metathesis of vowels 71, 113
metre 10–13, 21–2
expressive use of, 306, 506–11, 511 13, 157, 164, 232–3
see also caesura; correption; crasis; dactyl; diectasis; elision;
enjambment; Hermann's bridge; hiatus; spondee
minor warriors 12–20, 12
Minyeios 152
mixed aorist
see under aorist
Moira, 488 255
see also fate
mothers see Andromache; Hecuba
Muses, 419–20 1–8, 16, 20, 24
Mycenae 27
Mycenaean: armour, 454
dialect, 305 22, 31, 88–9
practice of anointing cloth, 295
tablets 33, 169

Naevius 52
narrative pace, 286–7, 301, 331, 395–8, 503–29, 507 5–36, 29–36, 32, 64,
102–9, 168–70, 178–86, 196–9, 203–5
Nastes 236
Nausicaa, 441 248–50
Nemesis, 344–8, 351
see under Index of Greek words s.v. νέμεσις
Neoptolemos, 280, 454, 466–81, 466 76
Nestor, 336, 528 29, 20, 23, 32, 56, 66–71, 68–9, 208, 236, 248–50
cup of see Ischia cup
Nicanor, 445
Niobe 205, 248–50
numbers: significance of, 421, 435 93–4, 115, 174, 217, 236, 244, 248–50,
248
nymphs, 419–20 21, 22, 132, 136
Nysa 132, 133

oak tree 32, 237

Odysseus, 295, 298, 305, 316, 334, 337, 354, 367, 374, 410, 466–81, 466,
500 3–4, 36, 51, 76, 167–70, 168, 176, 209, 247, 248–50
Oedipus 28
Oineus 190, 215–21, 216, 219, 224–9
Olympus, 282–3 27, 89, 130–40, 136
Opheltios 20–8, 20
orality, 511 12, 17, 19, 22–3, 56, 90–7, 168–70
see also writing
orphan, 414–28, 432 30

paintings of Hector and Andromache 49, 50–4

Palatine Anthology 48
Panathenaea 9, 28, 50, 56, 86–98, 90–1, 92
Pandaros 34
parataxis 22–3, 203–5
Paris, 280–5, 291, 300, 312–17, 314–17, 317, 318–24, 325, 327, 332–41,
338, 340–1, 351, 356, 362, 363, 503–29, 506–11 7, 35, 24, 40–4, 36,
157
and Achilles, 504, 505, 512–14, 513
and Aphrodite, 336 41–2
and Hector see Hector
and Hecuba see Hecuba
and Helen see Helen
and Priam, 512
anger of, 326, 335 42
central role in the Trojan War, 328–9, 344, 517, 523, 524–5
childhood of, 280–5, 312–17, 347
demonic qualities of, 281–2, 282–3
grief of, 335, 336
judgement of, 333 27–8, 33, 25
names of, 280
not addressed by name, 326
palace of, 312–17, 314–17, 314, 503, 512 32
tries to delay Hector, 340
use of language, 334, 335, 339, 341, 517–19, 518, 519 18, 21
weapons of, 321–2, 504, 522 41
see also beauty
Parry, M. 13–14
particles 20–1, 23
see under Index of Greek words s.v. ἄρ(α), αὐτάρ, γάρ, γε, δέ, ἦ, ἠδέ, μέν,
περ, τε
Patroclus, 306–7, 353, 373, 518 31, 208, 235
patronymics, 299, 401, 512 15, 13, 76, 119–22, 119, 235
Pedasos (town) 34–5
Pedasos (Trojan warrior) 20–8, 21, 26–7
Pegasos 152, 156, 183, 191, 200–2
Peirithous 29
Peisandros 197
Peleus, 402 208
Pellegrini, G. A. 53
Peloponnese, 456 34–5, 152
Penelope, 295, 344–8, 346, 353, 374, 394 247
peplos, 295, 311, 372, 400 90–1, 90, 92, 136
performance 1–4, 8–10, 12–13, 50, 56, 57, 90–7, 90–1
composition in 17, 23
Pergamos, 512
Perkote 13, 30
Persephone, 458
Persian Wars 5
see also Xerxes
Phaeacians 3–4, 14
Phoenicia, 290, 429–30, 491–2
Phylakos 9–11, 34–5, 36
Pidytes 30
Pindar 33, 179
see under Index of passages
Pisistratean recension 9
pity, 405–39, 407–13, 407, 431, 442, 482–93, 484 26, 31, 45, 47, 46–50, 51,
55, 94–5
Plakos, 397
Plato 24
Plutarch 50–2, 54
see under Index of passages
Pollianus 50
Polypoites 29
Pope, A. 46, 53
Porcia 50–2
Poseidon, 434 55, 75, 152, 155, 156, 183, 191
see also Bellerophontes
prayer, 264–8, 301, 344–8, 402, 527 16, 40, 31, 110–18, 115, 211, 237–41,
240, 241, 257
for Astyanax, 475–81, 475, 482–93, 527 31–2, 47, 56
to Athena, 297–311, 304–10, 304, 311, 380 7, 13, 27
Priam, 266, 282–3, 290, 300, 317, 360, 373, 446, 451, 463, 481, 512 17, 28,
31, 252, 254
palace of 18, 32, 33, 23, 75, 76, 127, 186, 242–52, 245–6, 247, 248–50
sons of, 452–3 244
see also Hector
priamel, 450–3, 450, 454
Proclus 1
see under Index of passages
Proitids 157
Proitos 10, 156, 157, 158, 160, 163, 167–70, 167
tablets of 168–70, 168, 169
see under Bellerophontes, writing
Protesilaos 197
proverbs and maxims, 267–8, 339, 492–3 40, 147, 261
puns see word play
purple 39, 219

Racine, J. 52
ransom, 414–28, 425–8, 427 45, 46–50, 46, 49, 55–61
rape, 465 26, 29, 55–61, 56, 62
rebuke, 325, 405–39, 494–502 18, 66–71
repeated lines, 263–85, 269–78, 304–10, 309–10, 506–11 16–17, 9–11
see also formulae
rhapsodes 57
Rhesos 53, 111
rhymes, 492–3 130–1, 139–40, 143, 146, 232–3
see also word play
ring composition, 279, 296, 311, 356, 395–8, 400–3, 405–39, 413, 454–63,
482–3, 494, 495, 497, 501–2, 515–16 16, 18, 71, 139–40, 142, 183,
206–11, 253–62
articulates shifts in emphasis, 431, 462, 495, 499, 520–9 61, 85, 123–43,
230–1, 262
ritual, 264–8, 266, 267–8, 269–78, 297–311, 300, 301, 304–10, 306–7, 311,
475, 527–9 27–8, 86–98, 90–1, 130–40
language of, 270 20, 93–4, 134
see also libation; prayer; sacrifice; supplication
Roman reception of Iliad 50–2
see also Virgil

sacrifice, 269, 270, 297–311, 304–10, 308, 380, 418–19, 527 27–9, 93–4,
110–18, 115
Salmoneus, 292
Samothrace 32
Sappho 49
see under Index of passages
Sarpedon, 419–20, 441, 447 37, 38, 55, 78, 111, 119
as exemplary hero 199
eclipses Glaukos 150–211, 198–9, 199
mother of 198
wife and baby of, 366 31
Satnioeis 34–5
Scaean Gates, 297–311, 304–10, 306–7, 307, 373, 386, 391, 392–3, 393 7,
24, 25, 29, 32, 33, 44–5, 55, 237–41, 237, 251
scale of affection 35–6
Scamander 32, 4
Scamandrios see Astyanax
Schadewaldt, W. 54
schetliasmos, 405–39
Schiller, F. 38, 53–4
Schliemann, H. 32
Scodel, R. 5, 8, 39
scriptio plena, 280
seasons 147–8, 147, 148
seer, 297–311, 438–9, 438 27, 45, 72–118, 76
 see also Helenos
Selleeis 152
Seneca 52
shame see Hector
shepherding, 421–4, 424 22, 25, 195
Sidon, 290, 291, 292
Sidonian women, 290 28
silence, 342, 404 19, 43, 45
similes, 469, 507, 509, 513 18–19, 36, 37, 2
of the horse, 503–29, 506–11 13, 19
of the leaves 37, 146–9, 146, 147, 148, 150–211, 150–1, 155–205
star imagery in, 295, 401
Simoeis 32, 4
Simonides 9, 146
see under Index of passages
single combat, 321–2 36–40, 120, 226, 232–3
Sisyphos 37, 152, 153, 154, 234
sitting, 336, 354, 360 189, 251
slaves, servants, 323, 324, 366, 369–91, 371, 372, 374–80, 375, 381–9, 382,
399, 454, 457, 467, 491–2, 498, 499 30, 44, 46, 49
see also Sidonian women
smiles, 404, 466–81 45
see also laughter
Solymoi 178–86, 184, 185, 204
Sophocles, 5 49
see under Index of passages
South Slavic epic, 454–63 13, 16–17
Sparta, 314 27, 44
see also Lakedaimon
speeches 18–19
anonymous speakers (τις-speeches), 454–63, 459, 479, 520–9
concluding lines, 311, 342, 390, 462, 520–9 16, 51, 116, 232–3
introductory lines, 263, 325, 332, 343, 359, 375, 405, 440, 459, 485, 520
16, 45, 54, 66, 214, 253
language of, 282–3, 326, 344, 356, 374, 389, 408, 409, 411, 453, 463,
510 18, 6, 55, 97, 100–1, 127, 138, 152, 167
 rhythm, tone and style of, 263–85, 280–5, 325–31, 332–41, 340, 343–58,
359–68, 367, 374–80, 381–9, 376, 405–39, 414, 423, 440–65, 479,
485–93 13, 18, 21, 22, 24, 26, 36–8, 40–4, 45–7, 46–50, 55–61, 66–
71, 77–101, 88–9, 110–18, 123–43, 165, 167, 212–31, 255
use of first person plural in, 358 58, 70, 84, 99–100, 114, 226, 230–1
see also Andromache; Anteia; Diomedes; exhortation; funeral lament;
Glaukos; Hector; Hecuba; Helen; Helenos; Paris; prayer; rebuke
Spercheios, 402
spinning, 491–2
see also weaving
spondee, 454 10, 164, 232–3
Standard Babylonian 22
Stephanos the Grammarian 48
Stheneboia 157
subjunctive: free-standing, 479
not equivalent to future, 459, 462
short stem vowel, 526 230–1
use in conditional clauses, 526 94
use in final clauses, 364 260
use in similes, 509
supplication 16, 31, 37–65, 45, 46–50, 49, 51, 62

tablets see writing

tamarisk 38–41, 39
Taruwisa/Tru(w)isa see Troy
Tecmessa 49
Telemachus, 334, 337, 343, 346, 374, 490–3 17, 160–5, 209, 247
Tenedos 32
Teucer, 436 38, 31, 55
Theagenes 9
Theano, 269–78, 297–311, 298, 299, 300, 312–13 30, 32, 88–9
and Diomedes, 286–311, 297–311 97
epithet of, 298
prayer of, 304–10, 304, 305, 306–7, 308, 309–10 13
Thebaid 222–3
Theban War 20, 28, 37–8, 222–3, 255
Thebes, beneath Mt Plakos, 395–8, 395, 397, 414–28, 425–8, 425
 analogies with Troy, 414–28, 416, 450–3
Thebes, in Boeotia, 487 38, 222–3, 237–41
Thebes, in Egypt 222–3
Thessaly, 456 36, 152
Thetis, 360 27, 99–100, 136, 137, 253, 254
Thiel, H. van: text of 56n. 183, 58
Thrace, 299 5, 111, 130–40
best of the Thracians 5–11
Thryoessa 152
Thutmose IV 42–3
Tiryns 157
tmesis, 381, 471 42–3
tragedy, 466–81 8, 24, 26, 49–50, 52, 51–65, 237–41
tragic irony 7–8
transcription, 291, 353
Troilos, 452–3
Trojan cycle 28
see also epic cycle
Trojan horse 3, 27–8
Trojans, 299, 355, 362, 402, 450, 461, 477, 520–9, 524–5 27–8, 31, 32–4,
39–40, 55, 6, 8, 12–20, 14, 46–50, 57, 62, 74, 85, 99–100, 111, 224–9,
227, 230–1
and Hector see Hector
and the royal family, 282–3, 288–95, 300 242–52, 262
horses of, 461
Tros, 461
Troy 2–5, 25–9, 32–4, 55, 207
acropolis of, 317, 512 27, 32, 88, 257
architecture of, 391
as backdrop to fighting 32, 41
doomed to fall, 438–9, 447–9, 447 7–8, 33–4, 96
sacred 89, 96
walls of, 434 33
women of see women
Tydeus see Diomedes
type scenes 16–17
arming, 504
 prayer, 304–10
entering the storeroom, 288–95
Tyro, 292

Ulu Burun 169

Virgil 17, 52
see under Index of passages
vividness, 328–9, 340–1, 467–70, 509 4–6, 15, 16, 23–4, 25–6, 32, 42–3
vulgate, 321–2, 400 57, 4, 18, 71

Warhol, A. 54
weaving, 290, 318–24, 324, 456, 485–93, 491–2 30, 41, 46
see also spinning
Weil, S. 42–3
West, M. L.: text of 56n. 180, 58
Wilusa, 280 61
see also Ilios; Troy
wine, 263–85, 264–6, 285, 528 35, 40, 62, 112, 130–40, 258–60, 260, 261
as test of social competence, 261
effects on mind, 264, 265
epithets of, 264, 266 258
women, 301, 336, 343, 346, 398, 413, 425–8, 428 7, 25, 27, 29–32, 44, 51–
2, 74, 81–2, 87, 94–5, 124–5, 157, 160–5, 167–70, 196, 205, 237–41
and animal sacrifice, 270, 308 93–4
and the city of Troy, 375, 526–9, 528 33
as booty, 290, 426, 456
do not distinguish between family and city, 262 242–52
do not leave the house on their own, 372 252
relationships with men, 264–8, 442 29–32, 81–2, 86–98, 88–9, 110–18,
114, 161, 238, 241
relationships with other women, 286–311, 374–80, 381–9, 499 29–31,
44, 252
religious role of, 264–8, 298 86–98
try to delay Hector, 354–6, 354, 431 33, 258
works of, 289, 324, 490, 491–2
see also Andromache; Anteia; Hecuba; Helen; gender roles
word play, 284, 328–9, 398, 492–3, 500 18, 130–1, 139–40, 143, 146, 148,
201, 202, 226
wounds 10, 64
writing, 280 9–10, 13, 56, 3, 168–70, 169

Xanthos, river in Lycia 172

Xanthos, river in the Troad, 280 20, 4
Xerxes 28

Zenodotus, 511 58, 34–5, 71, 76, 121

concerned with the propriety of the text 135, 226
deletions, 318–20
endorsing context-specific phrasing 112
on adjectival declension, 266, 285
on an etymologising variant 155
Zeus, 257, 259, 264–8, 282–3, 292, 304, 318, 344–8, 345, 424, 475–81,
475, 480, 482–93, 520–9, 526 2, 5–7, 27, 38, 40, 4, 55, 90–1, 130–40,
132, 139–40, 153, 198–9, 198, 199, 201, 234, 253
epithets of, 267–8, 282–3, 419–20, 476 234
palace of 243
plan of, 357 6
Zielinski's law 5

Passages Discussed
AESCHYLUS
Pers. 402 255
PV 354 112
Sept. 78--286 237–41

ALCAEUS
fr. 38a Voigt 153

ANTHOLOGIA GRAECA
385.6 48

APOLLODORUS
Epitome 5.25 252
APOLLONIUS
Arg. 3.1259--61, 506–11
Arg., 507 3.1260

ARISTOPHANES
Acharnians 580--90 49
Lysistrata 520 49
Lysistrata 538 49

BACCHYLIDES
11.43--112 157
11.59--81 157
Dith. *10 Maehler 198

BIBLE
Genesis 4:12--16 201
Genesis 39:19 166
Genesis 39:23 160–5
2 Samuel 11:14--17 168–70

CATULLUS
72.3--4, 429–30 45

CONTEST OF HOMER AND HESIOD

13 West 23

CYPRIA
fr. 1 West, 357
fr. 10 West, 344–8, 351

ENNIUS
fr. sed. inc. lxxxii.1 = 535 Skutsch, 506
fr. sed. inc. lxxxii = 535--9 Skutsch, 506–11

EUMELOS
frr. 15--19 West 152
fr. 27 West 130–40
EURIPIDES
Andr. 1243--5 76
Hec. 928--32 255
Tro., 425 472--3
Tro. 647--58 50

EUSTATHIUS
II, p. 347: 12--14 van der Valk, 408

GORGIAS
Helen, 344 7

HERODOTUS
Hist. 1.173 184
Hist. 2.53.2 20
Hist. 2.116, 290 25
Hist., 289–92 2.116--17
Hist. 6.95 201

HESIOD
Op. 106--79 3
Op. 144--5 65
Op. 327--9 43
Op., 291 650--1
Op., 282–3 656
Op., 434 681
Op. 695 248–50
Op., 266 725
Sc. 124--5 236
Sc. 142 236
Theog. 38 2
Theog. 99--101 2
Theog. 319 181
Theog. 321--3 179
Theog. 325 179–83
Theog., 282–3 328--9
Theog. 825--8 181
Theog. 901--3 148
fr. 1.3 MW, 314 198–9
fr. 9 MW 154
fr. 10a.25--34 MW 153
fr. 10a.55--7 MW 216
fr. 37.10 MW 157
fr. 43a.75--80 MW 153
fr. 43a.81--3 MW 155
fr. 43a.84--8 MW 156
fr. 43a.87 MW 179–83
fr. 129.10--17 MW 157
fr. 129.18 MW 157
frr. 129--33 MW 157
fr. 131 MW 157
fr. 132 MW 157
fr. 140 MW 198
fr. 141 MW 198
fr. 176.7 MW, 351
fr. 204 MW 184–5

HOMER
Il. 1.5, 357 6
Il. 1.69 76
Il., 425–8 1.98--100
Il., 454 1.112--15
Il., 425–8 1.366--9
Il. 2 25
Il. 2.345--6 29
Il. 2.484--93 1–4
Il. 2.485 2
Il. 2.505 140
Il. 2.659 152
Il., 418–19 2.811--14
Il. 2.871--5 236
Il. 2.876 119
Il. 3 25, 41
Il., 523 3.38--75
Il. 3.39--57 42
Il., 281–2 3.40--2
Il. 3.94 226
Il. 3.121--4 252
Il., 357–8 3.125--8
Il., 324 3.126
Il. 3.146--60 33
Il., 360 3.162
Il. 3.234--42 7
Il., 351 3.242
Il. 3.301 29
Il. 3.346--9, 321–2 41
Il. 3.382, 288 41
Il., 336 3.390--4
Il., 354 3.406
Il., 314 3.421
Il., 363 3.421--47
Il., 354 3.424--6
Il., 337–9 3.427--36
Il. 3.428--36, 350 41, 42
Il. 3.439--40 41
Il. 3.442--6 41
Il. 4 25
Il. 4.62--3 27
Il., 447–9 4.163--5
Il. 4.370--400 38
Il. 4.404--10 38
Il. 4.539--42 6
Il. 5 25, 36, 130–40
Il. 5.115--17 38
Il. 5.252--6 38
Il. 5.302--4 2
Il. 5.311--17 75
Il. 5.315--17 90–1
Il. 5.337--8 90–1
Il. 5.338 90
Il., 366 5.413
Il. 5.440 143
Il. 5.733--7 90–1
Il. 5.800--13 38
Il. 7.175--89 168
Il. 7.273--82 39
Il. 7.277--312 36
Il. 7.294--7 39
Il. 7.299 226
Il. 7.300--2 39
Il. 7.303--5 235
Il., 337 7.392--3
Il. 8.130--71 39
Il. 8.170--1 168
Il. 9.189 2
Il. 9.538--40 180
Il. 9.574--5 87
Il. 10 53
Il., 336 10.79
Il. 10.283--94 38
Il. 10.465--8 168
Il. 11.218--20 2n. 2
Il. 11.221--45 248–50
Il., 299 11.222--4
Il., 418–19 11.371--2
Il., 432 11.393--4
Il., 507 11.558--62
Il., 328–9 12.35--6
Il. 12.116 255
Il. 12.310--28 37
Il. 12.378--83 2
Il. 12.387--91 37
Il. 12.445--9 2
Il. 13.126--33 23
Il. 13.170--6 247
Il. 13.301 152
Il. 13.339--44 23
Il. 13.437, 419–20
Il. 13.460–1 75
Il. 13.732–3, 353
Il. 14.110--27 222–3
Il. 14.115--25 248–50
Il. 14.118 216
Il. 14.124--5 213
Il. 14.321--2 198
Il. 14.508--10 2n. 2
Il. 15.362--4 36
Il. 15.531 152
Il. 15.582--4 5
Il., 319 15.677--8
Il. 16.112--13 2n. 2
Il. 16.326–9 179
Il. 16.490--501 38
Il. 16.508--12 38
Il. 16.663--5 38
Il., 481 17.38--40
Il., 475–81 17.206--8
Il., 360 18.126
Il. 18.394--405 136
Il. 18.398 136
Il. 18.448--8 87
Il. 20.179--83 75
Il. 20.199--258 37
Il. 20.237--8 24
Il. 20.285--7 2
Il. 20.288--340 75
Il. 20.366 111
Il., 507 20.403--5
Il. 21.441--60 33
Il., 428 21.492
Il. 22 25
Il. 22.5--6 33
Il. 22.10--12 243
Il. 22.82 253
Il. 22.83 251
Il. 22.84 253
Il., 432, 481 22.84--5
Il., 433 22.99--110
Il., 443 22.106
Il., 515–16 22.126--8
Il. 22.127--8 47
Il. 22.300--5 46
Il., 407–13 22.369--75
Il. 22.401--3 15
Il., 472–3 22.401--4
Il. 22.431 253
Il. 22.437--46 30, 241
Il., 485–93 22.437--59
Il., 369–91 22.437--72
Il., 373 22.447
Il. 22.450 252
Il. 22.455--9 47
Il., 372 22.460--1
Il., 373 22.460--7
Il. 22.462--4 33
Il., 394 22.470--2
Il., 407–13 22.477
Il. 22.477--80 46
Il., 408 22.485
Il., 408 22.502
Il. 24 25
Il. 24.25--30 33
Il. 24.29, 280–5, 325
Il., 452–3 24.166--8
Il., 288 24.191--2
Il. 24.191--237 17
Il., 443 24.214--16
Il. 24.299--306, 266
Il. 24.531--3 201
Il. 24.538 200
Il. 24.602--9 244
Il., 481 24.704--6
Il. 24.710--12 81
Il. 24.724 81
Il., 408 24.727
Il. 24.734–8, 466–81 15
Il. 24.739–45 32
Il., 405 24.745
Il., 360 24.762
Il., 360 24.775
Od., 337 1.36
Od. 1.259 152
Od., 357–8 1.346--9
Od. 1.425--6 247
Od., 397 3.81
Od. 3.204 2
Od. 3.386--7 248–50
Od. 4.563--9 201
Od., 346 4.727--8
Od. 5.283 184
Od. 6.244--5 248–50
Od., 479 6.273--4
Od., 479 6.275
Od. 8.56--8 243
Od. 8.63--4 4
Od. 8.73 2
Od. 8.73--82 3
Od. 8.83--92 3
Od. 8.266--366 5
Od. 8.487--91 3
Od. 8.524--5 90
Od. 9--12 3
Od. 9.119 202
Od., 354 10.314--15
Od., 400 11.38--9
Od. 11.126--32 = 23.273--9 168
Od., 319 11.311--12
Od., 434 11.316
Od. 11.363--9 3–4
Od. 11.593--600 153
Od., 374 13.42--3
Od., 305 13.391
Od., 374 15.14--15
Od. 15.99--108 17
Od. 20.61--5, 344–8
Od. 22.477--84 241
Od. 23.73--4 168
Od., 323 24.210
Od. 24.508 209
Od. 24.512 209

HOMERIC HYMNS
Hom. Hymn 1 A 7--14 West 133
Hom. Hymn 1 A 9 West 133
Hom. Hymn 2.17 133
Hom. Hymn, 282–3 3.305--6
Hom. Hymn 3.367--8 179
Hom. Hymn, 471 4.389
Hom. Hymn, 295 5.174
Hom. Hymn, 347 6.3--4
Hom. Hymn 7 132, 137
Hom. Hymn 7.17--18 137
Hom. Hymn 11.1, 305
Hom. Hymn 26 130–40, 132
Hom. Hymn 26.4 136
Hom. Hymn 26.5 133
Hom. Hymn, 428 27.2--6
Hom. Hymn, 428 27.11--12
Hom. Hymn, 305 28.3
Hom. Hymn 32.18--20 2

HOMERIC SCHOLIA
Schol. A ad Il. 1.62 76
Schol. D ad Il. 1.79 66
Schol. AbT ad Il. 1.100a 96
Schol. D ad Il., 526 1.128
Schol. bT ad Il. 2.23a 162
Schol. D ad Il., 331 2.415
Schol. D ad Il. 2.522 23
Schol. A ad Il. 3.47, 291
Schol. bT ad Il. 4.141d 219
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.16 81
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.21 21
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.24 24
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.56--7 55–61
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.58--9b 58–61, 62
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.62a 55–61, 62
Schol. T ad Il. 6.62a 62
Schol. AbT ad Il. 6.71ab 71
Schol. A ad Il. 6.71a2 71
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.77a 77
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.78 78
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.84 84
Schol. T ad Il. 6.86 86
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.87b 87
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.88--9 88–9
Schol. AT ad Il. 6.96a 96
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.128 128–9
Schol. T ad Il. 6.130 130–40
Schol. T ad Il. 6.132b 133
Schol. AT ad Il. 6.148a 148
Schol. AbT ad Il. 6.152a--c 152
Schol. A ad Il. 6.160a 160
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.160c 160
Schol. A ad Il. 6.169a 169
Schol. AT ad Il. 6.170bc 170
Schol. T ad Il. 6.179 179
Schol. A ad Il. 6.183a 183
Schol. T ad Il. 6.184 184
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.185 185
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.186a 187
Schol. T ad Il. 6.222--3 222–3
Schol. AbT ad Il. 6.226a--c 226
Schol. T ad Il. 6.227--9b 229
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.230 39
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.234a 39, 236
Schol. T ad Il. 6.234b1 38
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.235a 235
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.235a2 39
Schol. AbT ad Il. 6.252ab 252
Schol. AT ad Il. 6.260ab 260
Schol. A ad Il. 6.260b 260
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.260c 40, 260
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.260cd 261
Schol. bT ad Il., 300 6.300
Schol. A ad Il., 311 6.311a
Schol. bT ad Il., 314 6.315
Schol. bT ad Il., 321–2 6.321
Schol. T ad Il., 318–24 6.321
Schol. AbT ad Il., 326 6.326ab
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.326b 42
Schol. bT ad Il., 325–31 6.327--8
Schol. bT ad Il., 342 6.342
Schol. D ad Il., 348 6.348
Schol. bT ad Il., 348 6.348c
Schol. bT ad Il., 356 6.356
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.360a 44
Schol. bT ad Il., 363 6.363
Schol. bT ad Il., 366 6.365--6
Schol. A ad Il., 366 6.366
Schol. bT ad Il., 377 6.377
Schol. D ad Il., 378 6.378
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.378b 44
Schol. D ad Il., 400 6.400
Schol. A ad Il., 400 6.400a
Schol. AbT ad Il., 400 6.400ab
Schol. A ad Il., 400 6.400c
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.404b 47
Scho. A ad Il., 408 6.408
Schol. A ad Il., 415 6.415b
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.433, 441 45
Schol. A ad Il. 6.433--9 45
Schol. AT ad Il., 439 6.439
Schol. AbT ad Il., 444 6.444b
Schol. bT ad Il., 445 6.445b
Schol. A ad Il., 457 6.457a
Schol. bT ad Il., 466–81 6.466
Schol. bT ad Il. 6.467, 467–70 24
Schol. b ad Il. 6.471 47
Schol. AT ad Il., 475 6.475
Schol. bT ad Il., 475–81 6.476
Schol. AT ad Il., 479 6.479a
Schol. AT ad Il., 482–3 6.483
Schol. AbT ad Il., 484 6.484
Schol. bT ad Il., 494–502 6.495--6
Schol. bT ad Il., 494–502 6.499
Schol. bT ad Il., 505 6.505
Schol. AbTD ad Il., 507 6.507
Schol. bT ad Il., 506–11 6.507a
Schol. bT ad Il., 509–11 6.509
Schol. AbT ad Il., 518 6.518c
Schol. bT ad Il., 524–5 6.523--4
Schol. bT ad Il., 524–5 6.525
Schol. A ad Il. 7.89e 71
Schol. A ad Il. 7.409 71
Schol. AT ad Il. 8.195 236
Schol. A ad Il., 318–20 8.493a
Schol. A ad Il. 9.633 71
Schol. T ad Il., 454 11.805a1
Schol. bT ad Il. 14.99 57
Schol. bT ad Il. 17.314--15 10
Schol. Ma ad Od. 1.300 90
Schol. V ad Od., 290 13.285

HYGINUS
Fab. 114--15 229

ILIOU PERSIS see Proclus

INSCRIPTIONS
Donner and Röllig 2002: 5 (no. 24), ll. 10--11, 429–30

LITTLE ILIAD
fr. 18 West, 466–81
fr. 29 West, 466–81, 466, 467
frr. 29–30 West, 454
see also Proclus

LYCOPHRON
Alexandra 316--22 252

LYSIAS
1.12, 465

MIMNERMUS
fr. 2 West 147–8
fr. 2.1--2 West 148

MUSAEUS
fr. 5.3 DK 146

NICANDER
Ther., 348 110

PAUSANIAS
10.26.7--9 252

PINDAR
Ol., 434 8.31--46
Ol. 13.83--92 155–205
Ol. 13.91 155–205
Pyth. 1.14 179
Pyth. 3.32--3 179
Pyth. 4.208 179
Isthm. 3/4.54b 255
Isthm. 7.43--8 155–205, 156, 200–2
Isthm. 8.35 179
fr. 52i (A) Maehler, 280–5

PLATO
Crat., 400–3 392c–393a
Crat., 265 415a

PLINY
HN, 419–20 16.72

PLUTARCH
Brutus 994D–E 50–1
Brutus 994E–F 51–2
Coniugalia praecepta 145B6–C2 50

[PLUTARCH]
On Homer, 460–1 II, ch. 215

PROCLUS
Chrestomathy, p. 120 West (Little Iliad) 76
Chrestomathy, 454, 465, 466–81, p. 146 West (Iliou Persis)

SAPPHO
Cologne Papyrus, line 13, 511
fr. 44 Voigt 49
fr. 44.6 Voigt, 396
fr. 44.8--10 Voigt, 394
fr. 44.31 Voigt, 301 87
fr. 107 Voigt 68–9

SIMONIDES
fr. 19.1--2 West 9, 146
fr. 19.3--5 West 146

SOLON
fr. 4.19 West 105

SOPHOCLES
Ajax 430--692 49
THEOGNIS
702–12 153

VIRGIL
Aen., 311 1.482
Aen. 2 52
Aen. 3.294--505 52
Aen., 419–20 6.282--4
Aen., 506–11 11.492--7
Aen., 511 11.494
Aen., 508, 511 11.495
Aen, 507, 510. 11.496
Aen., 472–3 12.434

Greek Words
ἀγελείη, 269 20
ἀδελϕειοῦ 61
ἅζομαι, 267–8
αἰγίοχος 20
αἰειγενέτης, 527
αἴσιμος 62
ἀκήδεστος 61
ἄκοιτις, 350
Ἀλήϊον 201
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δή 172, 175, 191, 200
ἄλοχος, 337, 350
ἀμαιμάκετος 20, 179
ἀμός, 414
ἀμύμων, 374 22, 155, 171, 190, 216
ἀντιϕερίζω 100–1
ἀοίδιμος, 358
ἀπογυιόω, 265
ἄποινα 46, 49
ἄρ(α), ῥα, 286–7, 302, 352, 393, 401, 418–19, 515–16 20, 21, 23, 2, 75,
116, 130–40, 158, 167, 177, 179, 180, 187, 215, 232, 238
ἀρηΐϕιλος 73
ἀριστεύω, 460 208
ἀταλάϕρων, 400
ἀτέρπου, 285
ἄτη, 356
ἀτύζομαι, 468 38
αὐτάρ 83
ἄϕαντος 61
ἄχος, 336, 413

βουλευτής 114

γάρ, 359–68, 361, 365, 367–8, 407–13, 409, 414, 414–28, 423, 435, 447
21, 15, 130–1
γε, 269, 349, 363, 372, 427 21, 16–17, 99–100, 125, 128–9, 167
γενεή 145, 146, 149
γεραιαί, 380 87
γόον, 500

δαιμόνιος, 326, 407, 486, 521

δαΐϕρων 19–20, 162
δέ, 280, 286–7, 301, 328–9, 376, 390, 405, 479 20–1, 1, 102–9, 123, 127,
146, 168–70, 212–31, 220
Διὶ ϕίλος, 318
δῖος 23, 31
δῖος Αχιλλεύς, 414

Ἑκτορίδης, 401 15, 19

ἐλελίχθησαν 106
ἐλεύθερος, 455, 528
ἑλκηθμός, 465
ἐντροπαλίζομαι, 496
ἐπιπλώς, 291
ἐποίχομαι, 492 81
ἐπουράνιος, 527
ἐρυσίπτολις, 305 27
ἔτης 239, 262
εὐπατέρεια, 292

ἦ, 441 215
ἦ μάλα δή, 518 255
ἠδέ 90
ἤνις ἠκέστας 20, 93–4
ἠνορέη 156
ἠπιόδωρος 251
ἥρως 34–5

θάλαμος, 288, 316, 321–2 41, 244

θεράποντες Ἄρηος 67
θυμός, 444 40, 51
θύος, 270
θύσθλα 134

ἰοχέαιρα, 428 20
ἱππιοχαίτης, 469
ἵπποι = ‘chariot’ 232
ἰσοϕαρίζω 100–1

κηώδης, 482–3
κηώεις, 288
κλέος, 446 2–3, 10, 46
κόλπος, 400
κορυθαιόλος 14–15, 116

λαός, 327, 433, 448–9 80, 214, 222–3

λευκώλενος, 371, 377

μαθεῖν, 444
μέλω, 441, 450, 492–3"
μέν, 279, 280, 312–13, 326, 327, 388, 421, 500 21, 26–7, 40, 127, 167, 212–
31
μένος 26–7
μένος καὶ χεῖρας Ἀχαιῶν, 502
μετέρχομαι 86
μῦθος, 343

νέμεσις, 335, 351

νήπιος 30, 95
ὀαρίζω, 515–16 48
ὀκρυόεις, 344

Παλλάς, 311 20
παρακοίτης, 430
πέπων 55
περ, 477 41, 146
ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς, 423
πολύδωρος, 394
πόνος, 524–5 77, 107
πότνια, 264, 305

σεβάζομαι,417 167
σῆμα, 418–19 168, 176, 178
Σιδονίων, 290
σκότιος 24

τε, 367 127, 147

τέμενος 194
τιμή 193
τῶ, 353

υἷες Ἀχαιῶν 255

ϕέριστε 123
ϕημί, 488, 501 98, 99–100, 108, 185, 206
ϕίλος, 360, 366, 468, 474, 482–3 14, 67, 112, 224
ϕύλοπις, 1 19

χαρίεις 90
χήρη, 408
χθών 213