36. mvp-comment-17-1 10.36 βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος See below on 10.283 for more on this epithet, which is applied in Iliad 10 to both Menelaos and Diomedes.

37. mvp-comment-18-1 10.37 ἠθεῖε This word cannot be precisely translated into English. Its contexts suggest that it conveys both the affection and respect of younger person for an older one (as of Paris and Hektor in Iliad 6.518, Deiphobos and Hektor in Iliad 22.229 and 239, and Achilles and Patroklos in Iliad 23.94), or of a trusted servant for a respected master (Eumaios and Odysseus in Odyssey 14.147).

41. mvp-comment-19-1 10.41 νύκτα δι᾽ ἀμβροσίην We find night likewise described in 10.142. Ambrosia, the food of both the gods (see e.g. Odyssey 5.93, 5.199, 9.359) and their divine horses, is used by the gods for a variety of other purposes in Homer, including as perfume ( Odyssey 4.445), as a cosmetic ( Iliad 14.170), and as a preservative for the corpses of Sarpedon and Patroklos ( Iliad 16.670 and 16.680, and 19.38). At Iliad 1.529, Zeus’ hair is described as ambrosios, as is sleep at 2.19. In Iliad 18.268 and 24.363, night is again ambrosial. There is, as we can see, a wide range of associations for this word.

41. mvp-comment-19-2 In 10.83, 10.276, and 10.386, the metrically equivalent phrase νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην is used in the same position in the line. (See also on 10.142 below and the textual commentaries above on 10.386.) This phrase has a spondee where ἀμβροσίην has a dactyl, but both phrases occupy the same metrical space. νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην is also found at Odyssey 9.143 and the Homeric Hymn to Hermes 578. Although it is not impossible to have two metrically equivalent formulas expressing the same essential idea, such duplications are rare in Homer, so we should expect the two adjectives to convey different things. The context of νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην in Odyssey 9 is the ambush-like episode of the Cyclops (see above, “The Poetics of Ambush”), and its use of Hermes (whose nighttime thievery and cunning are celebrated in the Homeric Hymn) is likewise suggestive of an association between this word and nighttime escapades. Norman Austin (1975:71–73) sees ὀρφναίη as being particularly evocative of night’s darkness, which is of course appropriate for both ambush and thievery. Night is in general ambrosial, according to Austin, because of the welcome rest it brings at the end of the day, but it is particularly so in the Iliad: “Night [in the Iliad] means the end of a day’s fighting. It is relief from weary battle, but, more importantly for the Homeric hero, it means survival through another day.” But the night of Iliad 10 is marked by anxiety, fear, and a raid on the enemy camp, hence the appropriateness of νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην. (For alternate views on why night is ambrosial, see Hainsworth 1993 ad 10.41 and Heubeck, West, and Hainsworth 1988 ad 4.429, 4.445, and 5.93 with bibliography ad loc.)

41. mvp-comment-19-3 Georg Danek (1988:80) has interpreted the alternation between the formulas νύκτα δι᾽ ἀμβροσίην and νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην as an intentional variation on the part of the composer of this book. (On Danek’s arguments about the composer of Iliad 10, see “Interpreting Iliad 10.”) Danek views the attempt to vary traditional phraseology as a hallmark of this poet’s individual style. As we noted above, this approach is problematic from the standpoint of the methodology developed by Parry and Lord in studying oral traditions. It rests on the assumption that a singer within a traditional system would strive to “break free” of that tradition and compose in a new way. Austin’s approach is helpful, because it finds two different ways that night can be characterized and shows how context affects the choice of either formula. Throughout his 1975 work, however, Austin himself seeks to counter Parry’s demonstration of the economy of Homeric diction, and uses these words as an example of how the poet of the Iliad can achieve various literary goals, unconstrained by formulaic diction. But another way to look at it is to say that Austin’s account of the different conceptualizations of the night enhances and clarifies Parry’s arguments about the economy of Homeric diction, which Parry describes as “free of phrases which, having the same metrical value and expressing the same idea, could replace one another” (MHV 86). There is more than one way to say “night” here, because night is not a monolithic concept. When a poet wants to invoke night with its associations with relief and rest, νύκτα δι᾽ ἀμβροσίην would be easily summoned. The night encompassed by Iliad 10, however, is of a different sort, and as a result, the formula νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην is used three or four times. This interpretation seems strengthened by Iliad 24.363, which is identical to 10.83, with the exception of the formula for night:

“Who is this that comes down to the ships through the encamped mass of warriors all alone

through the dark night, when other mortals are sleeping?”

πῇ πάτερ ὧδ’ ἵππους τε καὶ ἡμιόνους ἰθύνεις

νύκτα δι’ ἀμβροσίην, ὅτε θ’ εὕδουσι βροτοὶ ἄλλοι;

Iliad 24.362–363

“Where, father, are you driving your horses and mules like this

through the ambrosial night, when the other mortals are sleeping?”

In Iliad 24, Priam is attempting to sneak into Achilles’ camp during the night undetected; the formula νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην would seem to be appropriate. (See above on 10.1ff. for more on how Priam’s journey has thematic associations with other nighttime missions to the enemy’s camp.) But the speaker of these lines is the disguised Hermes, talking to Priam in the form of a young man who should be unaware of Priam’s mission. Accordingly, he uses the more innocent-sounding and divine νύκτα δι’ ἀμβροσίην. Alternatively, we can interpret the absence of ὀρφναίην as significant within the system that generated the two formulas. As we have seen, the theme of the night raid/ambush attracts its own a subset of formulas, which are not typically found outside of this context in Homer. If Priam’s expedition to Achilles, though it takes place at night, is not being characterized as an ambush, night is therefore not dark, but the more generic “ambrosial.” (For more on Parry’s principle of economy and the attempts that have been made to refute its applicability to the Homeric epics, see the discussion below of Odysseus’ smile in 10.400.)

43-44. mvp-comment-20-1 10.43–44 χρεὼ βουλῆς ἐμὲ καὶ σὲ … κερδαλέης Here again we see a parallel with Iliad 9. Compare Nestor’s words at 9.74–76: πολλῶν δ’ ἀγρομένων τῷ πείσεαι ὅς κεν ἀρίστην/ βουλὴν βουλεύσῃ· μάλα δὲ χρεὼ πάντας Ἀχαιοὺς/ ἐσθλῆς καὶ πυκινῆς (“When many are gathered you can be persuaded to obey him who counsels the best plan. All of the Achaeans are especially in need of good, close [ pukinos] counsel”). In 10.17, Agamemnon, after tossing and turning with grief and worry, comes up with a plan ( βουλή), a sequence that, as we have seen, parallels the opening of Book 2. He decides that he will go to Nestor and ask him to come up with a plan (there called μῆτιν). Boulē is used therefore in several places in Iliad 2, 9, and 10 to denote a plan of action. As it happens, all three plans are conceived and carried out during the night, and it seems that in these contexts boulē is closely associated with mētis. (See also 10.302, where Hektor likewise conceives of a πυκινὴν … βουλήν in a line that matches Iliad 2.55 in our texts. According to the testimony that has survived about the Cypria [testimonium 1 Bernabé], that epic opened with Zeus in distress about the overpopulation of the earth. It is unfortunately not clear from the context whether Zeus is attempting to sleep or if these thoughts are in fact occurring during the day, but the thoughts that lead to the plan he formulates, called βουλή in line 7 of the surviving fragment, are termed πυκιναῖς πραπίδεσσιν [3].) Here in Book 10 Agamemnon says that their plan must be wily ( κερδαλέης); in Book 9 the adjective used is pukinos (as at 10.302; see also on 10.5–9 above). In Odyssey 13, Athena calls Odysseus “by far the best of all mortals in planning” ( βροτῶν ὄχ’ ἄριστος ἁπάντων βουλῇ, 13.297–298) and “crafty in intricate ways” ( ποικιλομῆτα, 13.293). In Odyssey 22.230, Athena tells Odysseus that the city of Troy was taken by his boulē ( σῇ δ’ ἥλω βουλῇ Πριάμου πόλις εὐρυάγυια)—another ambush that according to epic tradition occurred at night. This is how Menelaos describes Odysseus in the wooden horse when he tells Telemakhos the story in Odyssey 4:

I have become familiar with the planning and thinking

of men who are heroes, and I have traveled over much of the earth.

But I have not yet known with my eyes a man equivalent

to my friend Odysseus’ enduring mind.

The boulē of the wooden horse is arguably Odysseus’ signature mētis, on which see Haft 1990.

47. mvp-comment-21-1 10.47 οὐ γάρ πω ἰδόμην, οὐδ᾽ ἔκλυον Note the augment on ἔκλυον. Egbert Bakker (2005) has argued that in Homeric diction the verbal augment has a primarily deictic function, and signifies proximity or immediacy rather than emphasizing a past tense. For this reason we find it used more often in similes and in speeches than in narrative contexts. In speeches, augmented aorists are almost always best translated as perfects (Bakker 2005:116, with further bibliography ad loc.). Bakker points out that the use of negating particles like οὔ πω with aorist verbs similarly “effaces the distinctness of any past, making it come into the speaker’s present” (Bakker 2005:170). Indeed, our first instance of an augmented aorist in Book 10 is paired with an unaugmented aorist that is preceded by οὔ πω.

47-48. mvp-comment-22-1 10.47–48 οὐ γάρ πω ἰδόμην, οὐδ’ ἔκλυον αὐδήσαντος / ἄνδρ’ ἕνα τοσσάδε μέρμερ’ ἐπ’ ἤματι μητίσασθαι See also below at 10.289–290 and 10.524 for more on μέρμερα ἔργα. Agamemnon gives important details as to just what is “astounding” about what Hektor did on the battlefield. He has never seen or even heard tell of one man devising so many astounding deeds in one day. Hektor’s deeds on the battlefield are unprecedented in Agamemnon’s experience, and are of course the reason why he is sleepless this night. The language even juxtaposes the “one” and “so many”: mermera erga are accomplished by one man (or two men, as we shall see) who kill many more. In the next day’s battle, too, Hektor is reported to be accomplishing mermera erga and destroying phalanxes of young men ( Iliad 11.502–503). On mourning the loss of so many men in one day of battle cf. Aeschylus Persians 431–432.

51-52. mvp-comment-23-1 10.51–52 These lines were athetized by Aristophanes of Byzantium and Aristarchus, two great directors of the library in Ptolemaic Alexandria in the second century BCE. Aristarchus was considered the premier editor of Homer in antiquity, and the scholia that survive in our medieval manuscripts of the Iliad and Odyssey are full of references to him. As Gregory Nagy has demonstrated (see especially Nagy 2004), Aristarchus had available to him at the library of Ptolemaic Alexandria a great number of Homeric texts. Aristarchus’ practice was to collate the many texts known to him and to comment on the various readings that he found, often asserting which reading he felt to be the correct one. Unlike a modern editor, however, Aristarchus confined his opinions to his commentary, which was published in its own separate volume. The notes in the commentary were linked to the appropriate passages in the text by means of a system of critical signs. These signs are preserved in the Venetus A manuscript of Homer, and to a lesser extent elsewhere (see Bird 2009). So here, although both Aristarchus and his predecessor Aristophanes did not feel verses 51–52 were composed by Homer, they left them in the text, and indicated their judgment with the sign for athetesis (see Figure 4). The scholia in the margins of the Venetus A tell us that Aristarchus condemned 10.51 because it repeats the content of 10.49, and because δηθά and δολιχόν mean the same thing. There is a tendency among the Alexandrian editors to disapprove of verses that they feel to be repetitive, preferring compression over expansion. This preference for compression is rooted in the poetics of their day (see Dué 2001a), and does not offer us good grounds for condemning the lines. But it is noteworthy that these scholars did not impose their preferences on the text itself, with the result that much more Homeric poetry survives for us today than probably would have otherwise.

53. mvp-comment-24-1 10.53 Αἴαντα The Ajax being referred to here is the son of Telamon. (See below on 10.110–113.) Evidence from the Venetus A scholia indicates that Aristarchus may have known a reading Αἴαντε instead of Αἴαντα:

Didymus says that the Aristarchean reading is “ Αἴαντε” in the dual, but Telephos says that Didymus has misspoken, since Menelaos is not sent to both Ajaxes.

This disagreement in the scholia about Aristarchus’ reading may reflect an evolution in the meaning of the dual form Αἴαντε that has been noted by previous scholars. In some early stage of the Greek epic tradition, the dual Αἴαντε referred not to Ajax the son of Telamon and Ajax the son of Oileus as a pair, but rather to Telamonion Ajax and his brother Teucer (whose special fighting style is discussed above at p.60; see Ebbott 2003:41–43 with references ad loc.) The dual form of the name that Aristarchus knew here would be perfectly appropriate in a time when it was understood to refer to Ajax and Teucer. In any case, at 10.228 the two Ajaxes ( Αἴαντε δύω) volunteer to go on the spying mission with Diomedes, but it is not clear whether at that point both Ajaxes are volunteering, or whether it is the fighting pair of Ajax and Teucer. It is possible that the dual would have been understood differently by audiences of different periods.

53. mvp-comment-24-2 10.53 Ἰδομενῆα κάλεσσον It is significant that Idomeneus figures prominently here among the chief heroes, since he is the speaker of the most explicit description of ambush warfare in Homeric epic. He and Meriones discuss what it takes to succeed in ambush at Iliad 13.266–294 (discussed above, pp. 45–47). Idomeneus and Meriones are from Crete, and Odysseus links himself to both Idomeneus and Crete throughout his “Cretan lies” in the second half of the Odyssey, including a tale involving the ambush of the son of Idomeneus ( Odyssey 13.259–275). The alternative warfare of ambush, with its reliance on cunning and dissimulation rather than force, may have been traditionally a Cretan specialty or in some way associated with Cretans. Certainly in the Odyssey, mention of Crete functions as a narrative signal for the external audience, and possibly for the internal audience as well, since Odysseus seems to use these stories as a kind of coded message or ainos ( Odyssey 14.508), by which he gauges the recipient’s loyalty and character. Crete serves as a cloak for Odysseus’ true identity as he carefully and cleverly sets up his return, just as, in war, heroes camouflage themselves for a nighttime spying expedition or ambush. (For more on the concept of the cloak and its connection to Odysseus’ ainos in Odyssey 14, see below at 10.149.)

56. mvp-comment-25-1 10.56 ἐλθεῖν ἐς φυλάκων ἱερὸν τέλος ἠδ᾽ ἐπιτεῖλαι A night watch is explicitly set up in Iliad 9.80–88, where the guards assemble and take their post armed. There, we hear that the guard consists of seven leaders, each of whom is named, and each leader has a hundred young men with long spears. As we will see later (10.196–197), Meriones and Thrasymedes, named as two of the seven in Iliad 9 but given special mention here at 10.57–59, will join the leaders to deliberate about the plan, and, importantly, give Diomedes and Odysseus some of their armor. Back in Iliad 9.87, we are told that the guard takes up their post between the ditch and the wall (see further on 10.194). For more on the anxieties about the watch falling asleep, see on 10.98. See Singor 1992:403 for his arguments that the seven leaders of the night watch implies that the Achaean wall has seven gates, and that the adjective hieros is used here, as well as for both the gatekeepers of Troy ( Iliad 24.681) and the walls of Thebes ( Iliad 4.378), because defensive walls and the life-sustaining protection they provide are “sacred.”

58-59. mvp-comment-26-1 10.58–59 Ἰδομενῆος ὀπάων / Μηριόνης The relationship between Idomeneus and Meriones fits into an Indo-European mythical paradigm of the hero and his charioteer. In such relationships, the charioteer often loses his life, thereby saving the life of his more dominant other half. The concept of the opaōn is similar to that of the therapōn (defined by Gregory Nagy as ‘ritual substitute’), which is what Achilles calls Patroklos in Iliad 16.244. In that passage, Achilles prays that when Patroklos returns to battle he have the power to fight on his own, instead of as part of the closely linked fighting pair that Achilles and Patroklos normally form. Instead, however, Patroklos dies (at the hands of Apollo, Euphorbus, and Hektor), wearing Achilles’ armor and in many ways previewing Achilles’ own death, in some traditions at least, at the hands of Paris and Apollo. (On opaōn and its application to Meriones, we are indebted to an unpublished paper by Ellen Aitken. On the therapōn as a ‘ritual substitute’ for the hero, as Patroklos functions for Achilles, see Nagy 1979:33 and 292–293. On the relationship between Achilles’ and Patroklos’ death, see also Burgess 1997.) The night watch seems to be led by younger men in particular, like Meriones here: is there a suggestion that they can better endure the sleeplessness? See further on 10.259 for the association between young men like Meriones and ambush.

60. mvp-comment-27-1 10.60 βοὴν ἀγαθὸς See below on 10.283 for more on this epithet.

65. mvp-comment-28-1 10.65 ἀβροτάξομεν There are two different spellings of this verb (found only here in our Homeric texts) in the textual tradition: ἀβροτάξομεν and ἀμβροτάξομεν. Sources are nearly evenly divided between them. West (1997: 229) points out that the form ἀμβροτάξομεν “offers the unmetrical sequence ‒ ⏑ ‒, but the difficulty is resolved by going back to an ancient * hamṛtáxomen.” We might speculate, then, that the spelling without the mu came about because it seemed to solve the metrical difficulty by relying on a plosive + liquid exception to the rule that multiple consonants form a closed syllable (see West 1997: 220–221). In any case, ἀμβροτάξομεν belongs to the categories of older words West identifies that became unmetrical as their form evolved. They were preserved as part of the formulaic language even as these sound-changes occurred in the Greek language as a whole. The antiquity of this word could mean that concern about missing one another in the dark of night is a traditional idea, part of the poetics of night raids or nighttime spying missions.

73. mvp-comment-29-1 10.73 αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ ῥ᾽ ἰέναι μετα See above on 10.32.

73. mvp-comment-29-2 10.73 ποιμένα λαῶν See above on 10.3.

75. mvp-comment-30-1 10.75 εὐνῇ ἔνι μαλακῇ· παρὰ δ᾽ ἔντεα ποικίλ᾽ ἔκειτο Nestor and Diomedes are described in the state in which they are found sleeping by the others, with the result that each is characterized as a warrior of a particular style. Nestor is an old man and sleeps on a soft bed, but his weapons are right beside him, which implies that he is ready for battle at a moment’s notice (see also 10.78–79). The battle gear that lies next to him is not the same as that he puts on to go out in 10.131ff. The shining helmet (10.76) would be inappropriate for a night mission (see below on 10.257). Rather, the armor serves to characterize Nestor as a warrior in his own right and give him distinction. Agamemnon here, as elsewhere in the Iliad, looks to Nestor first and foremost for strategy. At Iliad 7.325 and 9.84 he is Νέστωρ, οὗ καὶ πρόσθεν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή (“Nestor, whose planning also before was manifestly the best”). Nestor orchestrates most of the events of Book 9, as he does here in Book 10. In Book 11, it is Nestor who sets in motion Patroklos’ fatal impersonation of Achilles. On Nestor’s role in the Iliad and in the larger epic tradition, see Frame 2009.

83. mvp-comment-31-1 10.83 ὀρφναίην See on 10.41 above.

84. mvp-comment-32-1 10.84 ἠέ τιν᾽ οὐρήων διζήμενος, ἤ τιν᾽ ἑταίρων The idea that someone would be out at night looking for a mule ( τιν᾽ οὐρήων) seemed odd to Alexandrian scholars, as it might to us. The A scholia indicates that Aristarchus athetized the line because of that word, suggesting that it should be some form of κοῦρος, to indicate the young men of the guard. Instead of assuming a mistake by the poet (as the scholiast does) or by a scribe, another approach would be to see if there are any traditional associations with mules getting loose at night. There are no examples in surviving Homeric poetry, but there may well have been in the larger tradition. In any case, mules are used in a variety of contexts in the Iliad, by both the Trojans and the Achaeans. (See Iliad 1.50, 23.111 and 115, 24.716 for οὐρεύς; the word ἡμίονος is also used in this book at 10.352 and throughout the Iliad and Odyssey.)

85. mvp-comment-33-1 10.85 φθέγγεο, μὴ δ᾽ ἀκέων ἐπ᾽ ἒμ᾽ ἔρχεο See “The Poetics of Ambush” on the sensory aspects of the night. In 10.67, Agamemnon told Menelaos to call out ( φθέγγεο as here) wherever he went, which in the dark would serve both to wake up his comrades and let them know that he was their fellow Achaean and not an enemy. So here Nestor tells his visitor not to sneak up on him in the dark, but to call out to let him know who he is and why he is there. See also Iliad 10.139 and 24.170.

85. mvp-comment-33-2 10.85 χρεώ As each hero is roused from sleep the theme of the great need the Achaeans find themselves on this night is emphasized. We saw in 10.43 that Agamemnon speaks to Menelaos of their need for a “plan,” boulē, just as Nestor does in the opening of Iliad 9. Here, Nestor naturally asks what need has caused him to be woken in the middle of the night. In 10.118, he advises Agamemnon to wake up the Greek leaders, citing the “unbearable need” ( χρειὼ … ἀνεκτός) that has come upon them. Likewise in 10.142 Odysseus asks what need so great ( χρειὼ τόσον) has driven Agamemnon and Nestor to wake him. Nestor asks him not to reproach them, since the situation really is that dire: “Such sorrow has come upon the Achaeans” ( τοῖον γὰρ ἄχος βεβίηκεν Ἀχαιούς, 10.145). In 10.172, we find χρεώ invoked by Nestor once again, in much the same language as at 10.142: “An especially great need has come upon the Achaeans” ( μάλα μεγάλη χρειὼ βεβίηκεν Ἀχαιούς). This theme runs throughout Books 9–11, as Robert Rabel (1991) has demonstrated. Rabel argues that each of these three books has a similar tripartite structure consisting of recognition of need, journey, and return and report.

98. mvp-comment-34-1 10.98 καμάτω ἁδηκότες The meaning of ἁδηκότες can be easily gleaned from context, but its derivation is disputed. This formula appears four times in this book (here, 10.312, 10.399, and 10.471), but with the exception of Odyssey 12.281 nowhere else in the Iliad or Odyssey. (See also Homeric Hymn to Apollo 460.) Here is another instance of a formula closely tied to the night that has been seen by previous commentators and scholars as evidence of the book’s unusual style. We have argued that Iliad 10 is essentially our only surviving extended narration of a night raid, and this accident of transmission makes these formulas seem more unusual than would otherwise be the case. If we examine the use of καμάτῳ ἁδηκότες in this book more closely, we can see why this formula would have been particularly useful for a poet composing a night raid, and for one composing this episode in particular.

98. mvp-comment-34-2 We have already observed that the necessity of staying awake is part of the hardship that characterizes ambush warfare. This necessity, as it happens, is likewise an important component of keeping a night watch. Because on this night the Trojans are encamped nearby—which we have seen is a cause of great anxiety for the Achaeans—the importance of the night watch is heightened. It is vital that the Achaean watches not fail in their duty; they must not fall asleep.

98. mvp-comment-34-3 In 10.312, Hektor proposes that someone find out if the Achaeans are keeping a proper night watch, or if in fact they are too worn out by the toil of battle to do so ( καμάτῳ ἁδηκότες αἰνῷ). In 10.399, Dolon repeats Hektor’s words to Odysseus virtually word for word, as so often happens in Homer when messages and information are relayed. In 10.420–422, Dolon reveals that the allies of the Trojans are not keeping night watches, and are instead leaving security to the Trojans, who have wives and children to protect. And so, in 10.471, we find that Rhesos and his men have done what the Achaeans must not do: they have fallen asleep, overcome by exhaustion ( οἱ δ’ εὗδον καμάτῳ ἁδηκότες). In Odyssey 12.281, Odysseus attempts to force his men to sail through the night, past the island of the sun god (where Teiresias had foretold disaster). The men refuse, saying that they are too worn out to do so ( καμάτῳ ἀδηκότας ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνῳ). It seems clear that this formula occurs naturally when the hardship of staying awake is added to the weariness of a day’s toil, whether it be a day spent fighting in the polemos, or, in the case of the Odyssey, a day spent rowing at sea. (Cf. the simile at Iliad 7.4–7, which compares the relief that the Trojan soldiers feel when Hektor and Paris return to the battlefield to that experienced by sailors who, when their limbs are giving out from the toil of rowing [ καμάτῳ δ’ ὑπὸ γυῖα λέλυνται], hope for and receive a favorable wind.) It is not necessary to see these instances in Book 10 as idiosyncratic in their concentration, the work of a particular poet with his own personal and/or Odyssean style, as Danek and Hainsworth have most recently explained them. (See Danek 1988:84–86 and Hainsworth 1993 ad loc.) Rather, they are yet another example of the way that formulas and traditional themes go hand in hand.

101. mvp-comment-35-1 10.101 μάχεσθαι With the use of this verb ‘to fight’, we can see that the anxiety is so great among the Achaeans that they fear large-scale attack, and not just a spying mission or an ambush. The fact that they have put seven hundred men on guard duty also reflects their concern that the Trojans will make an all-out assault at night. During the intense battle that occurs the following day, Agamemnon also wonders if the Trojans will stop fighting when night falls ( Iliad 14.78–79).

102. mvp-comment-36-1 10.102 Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ See Frame 2009 for an in-depth exploration of the epic tradition about Nestor and how it is encapsulated in the phrase hippota Nestor. That Frame could write a work of nearly 800 pages on the implications of this phrase in the epic tradition reveals just how much meaning can be encapsulated in a single epithet. (See also above on 10.3.) Of gerēnios Frame writes (2009:600n189):

The theory that gerēnios relates to the privileges of old age is strengthened by a notice in the Townley scholia to Iliad 16.196 that “some” have Γερήνιος ἱππότα Φοίνιξ in place of γέρων ἱππηλάτα Φοίνιξ. (Otherwise, the phrase is used exclusively of Nestor.)

103. mvp-comment-37-1 10.103 Ἀτρείδη κύδιστε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον On Nestor’s address of Agamemnon, see on 10.144 below.

104-107. mvp-comment-38-1 10.104–107 Leaf suggests that these lines “are at least somewhat out of place” because Achilles has just refused to return. This statement follows his argument that it is obvious that Iliad 10 “forms no essential part of the story of the Iliad” (Leaf 1900:423). Hainsworth (1993, ad loc.) similarly remarks, “The open condition, implying the possibility of Akhilleus reentering the fray, is unexpected when such a change of heart has just been ruled out of court. A remote condition … would certainly be more appropriate.” Petegorsky states, “Nestor’s reference to Achilles is curious; for it has the effect of conceding to Achilles the role of the hero who will put a stop to Hector, at the very moment when we would expect him to be suggesting an alternative” (1982:203). But, Petegorsky argues, Achilles’ refusal has in effect made the situation revert to what it was before the Embassy, and this deference to Achilles as the only way to stop Hektor in fact shows how much the Doloneia takes part in the Iliadic tradition, both thematically and in its narrative momentum towards Achilles’ eventual return (1982:177–185). The alternative strategy adopted in Iliad 10, one focused on mētis, spying, and ambush, will not change the Iliad’s traditional course of events, but will highlight through contrast the need for Achilles’ strength to save the Achaeans.

109. mvp-comment-39-1 10.109 ἠμὲν Τυδέιδην δουρὶ κλυτὸν ἠδ’ Ὀδυσῆα This line shows that, as we would expect, Diomedes and Odysseus are closely linked in the formulaic diction. For more on Odysseus and Diomedes as a fighting pair, see below on 10.243.

110-113. mvp-comment-40-1 10.110–113 Αἴαντα ταχὺν The swift Ajax is the son of Oileus, as we see also in Iliad 14.520–522: Ὀϊλῆος ταχὺς υἱός· οὐ γάρ οἵ τις ὁμοῖος ἐπισπέσθαι ποσὶν ἦεν/ἀνδρῶν τρεσσάντων, ὅτε τε Ζεὺς ἐν φόβον ὄρσῃ (“the swift son of Oileus—there is no one like him for following on foot when men are retreating in flight, whenever Zeus sets a rout in motion”). In 10.112–113, Nestor is referring to Ajax the son of Telamon, whose ships are on the far end of the line (see Iliad 11.7–9). In 10.175–176 Nestor tells Diomedes to go wake up the son of Oileus, but the mission itself is not described in our text, nor is the mission of Menelaos to Telamonian Ajax (see above on 10.53).

116. mvp-comment-41-1 10.116 πονέεσθαι There is a cluster of three occurrences of this verb: here, in 10.117, and in Agamemnon’s response in 10.121. It is also used in 10.70, and the noun from which it is derived, πόνος, appears at 10.89, 10.164, 10.245, and 10.279. These words are also used for the hardships of (daytime) battle, but see our essay “Poetics of Ambush” for a discussion of the associations that “hard labor” has with ambush fighting.

121. mvp-comment-42-1 10.121 πολλάκι γὰρ μεθίει Douglas Frame (2009:214–216) demonstrates that “giving way,” especially in deference to his brother, is a traditional characteristic of Menelaos. In addition to here, the verb μεθίημι is used of Menelaos in two other places: at Odyssey 4.372 and most tellingly at Iliad 23.434, where Menelaos gives way to Antilokhos in the chariot race. Frame connects that event in particular with Menelaos’ nostos, in which he displays hesitancy, lack of incitement, and a lack of noos. These same qualities will make him a poor choice for the spying mission: Agamemnon seems to know this, as we see in his fear that Diomedes will choose Menelaos based on status alone (see 10.237–240). As we have noted elsewhere (see 10.31), Menelaos is portrayed as a successful ambusher in the Odyssey, but that portrayal seems quite separate from his relationship with his brother, whom, as we have seen earlier on this night, he looks to for direction, even as he is the first to voice the idea of the spying mission.

133. mvp-comment-43-1 10.133 χλαῖναν Nestor does not put on an animal skin, but rather an impressive cloak ( khlaina). For the traditional language of these dressing scenes, compare 10.21–22. See also below on 10.149.

136. mvp-comment-44-1 10.136 βῆ δ᾽ ἰέναι See on 10.32.

137. mvp-comment-45-1 10.137 Ὀδυσῆα Διὶ μῆτιν ἀτάλαντον This is not the first time that Odysseus’ name is mentioned in Iliad 10 (see 10.109), but it is the first place that he appears in the narrative, and the first place in our text that he is given a description of any kind. Here and twice in Iliad 2, Odysseus is called “the equivalent of Zeus in craft [ mētis].” Odysseus rivals the gods in this kind of intelligence, by which he engineers alternative warfare and the daring escapes that are his specialty in the Odyssey. One of Odysseus’ most common epithets in the Iliad and Odyssey, πολύμητις (as at 10.148), likewise highlights this central aspect of Odysseus’ character. Odysseus is the hero who takes down the Cyclops by a carefully orchestrated ambush, and the attack on the suitors is structured like an ambush in many ways. We have noted as well that the sack of Troy is an ambush, of which Odysseus is the mastermind. (For more on mētis in the Doloneia, see on 10.19 and “The Poetics of Ambush” above. On Odysseus as the hero of mētis, see above on 10.5–9, Haft 1990, and Holmberg 1997:14–15. For Odysseus’ epithets in the Odyssey, see Austin 1975:25–53.

139. mvp-comment-46-1 10.139 φθεγξάμενος· τὸν δ᾽ αἶψα περὶ φρένας ἤλυθ᾽ ἰωή Note the emphasis on the sound of Nestor’s voice as he rouses Odysseus from sleep. On the aural aspects of this episode, see above pp. 62–68 and on 10.85.

141-142. mvp-comment-47-1 10.141–142 On the theme of “need,” see above on 10.85.

142. mvp-comment-48-1 10.142 νύκτα δι᾽ ἀμβροσίην In the Venetus A, the oldest complete medieval manuscript of the Iliad, ὀρφναίην is written in the margin next to νύκτα δι᾽ ἀμβροσίην at this line (see Figure 5), and a thirteenth-century manuscript (Vaticanus Graecus 26) prints ὀρφναίην here instead of ἀμβροσίην. On the significance of the two adjectives and the variation we find here, see above on 10.41.

144. mvp-comment-49-1 10.144 διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη πολυμήχαν’ Ὀδυσσεῦ Nestor, who is the most diplomatic of the heroes in the Iliad, addresses Odysseus in connection with both his lineage and with two of his traditional epithets, thereby using an entire hexameter to address him. He does the same with Agamemnon in 10.103 ( Ἀτρεΐδη κύδιστε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον), in precisely the way that Agamemnon instructs Menelaos to wake up the heroes in 10.68–69. And as with Agamemnon, Nestor chooses what is perhaps the most honorific of Odysseus’ traditional epithets. In the Iliad, the epithet διογενὲς ‘descended from Zeus’ is applied to several heroes, including Patroklos (1.337), Achilles (1.489), Ajax (4.489), and Menelaos (23.294), but in the Odyssey it is restricted to Odysseus. πολυμήχανος, on the other hand, is Odysseus’ distinctive epithet. It is used of him and him alone, and, with one exception, always in the vocative. That one exception is the signature description of Odysseus by Athena, who in the guise of Mentes tells Telemakhos that his father is on his way home, “since he is a man of many devices ( πολυμήχανος, Odyssey 1.205).”

144. mvp-comment-49-2 It is a testament to the economy of Homeric diction that other than the full verse phrase that appears here (and six other places in the Iliad, as well as fifteen times in the Odyssey) there are only three ways to address Odysseus in the vocative in our Iliad, each with a different metrical configuration: ὦ πολύαιν’ Ὀδυσεῦ μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν (9.673, 10.544), ὦ Ὀδυσεῦ πολύαινε (11.430), and [ ὦ] Ὀδυσεῦ (9.346, 14.104). This does not mean, however, that the epithets are without semantic weight (see especially the formulation of Lord 1960/2000:66, quoted on 10.3 above). The full verse formula is particularly flexible and can be used or not at a composer’s discretion. Its contexts suggest that it conveys formality and respect. In the Iliad, the goddess Athena and the heroes Agamemnon, Diomedes, Achilles, and Ajax address Odysseus this way. In the Odyssey, Athena, Calypso, and Circe do, as do the shades of Teiresias, Agamemnon, and Achilles.

144. mvp-comment-49-3 Diomedes, by contrast, does not get quite the same respect as Agamemnon and Odysseus. In 10.159, Diomedes is addressed as simply “the son of Tydeus.” In Iliad 9.32–49, Diomedes is the first to speak after Agamemnon’s address to the assembled warriors and is sharply critical of him. Nestor praises Diomedes for his abilities as a warrior and for his speaking ability but qualifies the latter: he is the best in counsel for his age group ( Iliad 9.54). It seems that Diomedes is still too junior in relation to Nestor to get the full honorific address. Three times, however, he is addressed by others with the affectionate full-line formula Τυδεΐδη Διόμηδες ἐμῷ κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ ( Iliad 5.242, by Sthenelos; Iliad 5.826, by Athena; Iliad 10.234, by Agamemnon).

145. mvp-comment-50-1 10.145 τοῖον γὰρ ἄχος βεβίηκεν Ἀχαιούς See also above on 10.85. The sorrow ( akhos) that Nestor cites here is of course ultimately the result of the withdrawal of Achilles and its disastrous consequences, and Nestor uses an equivalent phrase when the strife between Agamemnon and Achilles begins (see Iliad 1.254; see Nagy 1979:69–72, 94–95 for the equivalence of ἄχος and πένθος in Homeric diction). The Trojans have had a great deal of success in Achilles’ absence and are now encamped on the plain. This sorrow is what keeps Agamemnon and Menelaos awake at the opening of this book. Likewise, in Iliad 9.9, Agamemnon is “struck in his heart by great sorrow” ( ἄχεϊ μεγάλῳ βεβολημένος ἦτορ). Achilles had predicted that Agamemnon would feel sorrow ( ἀχνύμένος, Iliad 1.241) when the Greeks fell dying. The akhos that Achilles experiences when Agamemnon threatens to take and then in fact takes Briseis in Iliad 1 initiates his wrath, which in turn leads to the sorrow of the Achaeans. Nagy has argued that there is a “pervasive nexus between ἄχος and Ἀχιλ( λ) εύς” in Homeric diction that is “integrated in the inherited formulaic system and hence deeply rooted in the epic tradition” (Nagy 1979:79). This akhos seems to be the root of Achilles’ name, which Nagy etymologizes as * Akhí- lāṷos ‘whose host of men is sorrowful [= grieving]’. (See Nagy 1979:69–93 and Nagy 2004:131–137, as well as Palmer 1963:78–79 and Holland 1993.)

148. mvp-comment-51-1 10.148 πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεὺς On Odysseus’ associations with mētis, see on 10.5–9 and on 10.137 above. Polumētis ‘who is crafty in many ways’ is one of Odysseus’ most commonly used epithets. Other than Odysseus it is only used of Hephaistos ( πολυμήτιος, Iliad 21.355), who is the god of a different sort of craft. (The English word ‘craft’, like the Greek mētis, encompasses both meanings.) Milman Parry says of this particular epithet: “ δῖος and πολύμητις, for the audience, describe the Odysseus of all the epic poems which sang his deeds” (MHV 171). πολύμητις is one of the distinctive epithets of Odysseus, while δῖος is a generic epithet of heroes (see Parry MHV 145 for πολύμητις as a distinctive epithet, and MHV 84 for δῖος as generic). Parry writes:

Parry MHV 137–138 As we discussed on 10.3 in connection with the phrase ποιμένα λαῶν, the phrase πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεὺς can be used of Odysseus even in situations in which he is not being particularly crafty; the distinctive noun-epithet combination is, to quote the formulation of Nagy once again, “like a small theme song that conjures up a thought-association with the traditional essence of an epic figure” (Nagy 1990b:23). The phrase is not without significance in an ambush context, however, because Odysseus is a pre-eminent ambusher within the tradition as a whole. Odysseus is called πολύμητις just as he leaves his tent, which marks the beginning of what will become a spying mission/ambush episode that will prominently feature Odysseus’ mētis. Once that episode is well underway, Odysseus will be again called πολύμητις when he interrogates Dolon (10.382; see also 10.488, where he handles the horses so they are not spooked).

149. mvp-comment-52-1 10.149 ποικίλον ἀμφ᾽ ὤμοισι σάκος θέτο Agamemnon and Diomedes each wear a lion skin, Menelaos wears a leopard skin, Nestor wears a khiton and khlaina, and all take a weapon ( egkhos or doru), but Odysseus takes only a shield and leaves without putting on any outerwear of any kind. This seemingly mundane detail actually serves two significant narrative functions. First and foremost, it sets up the extended arming scene that takes place at the assembly, just before the raid itself (see below on 10.254–272). Odysseus’ lack of appropriate gear here means that he will have to borrow armor at the assembly. Second, Odysseus’ lack of an animal skin has an intriguing corollary the Odyssey, where, in one of his Cretan lies to Eumaios in Odyssey 14, Odysseus comes close to revealing his true identity, at least from the perspective of a traditional audience of epic. Odysseus describes how once on a cold night at Troy he went out on an ambush. All the other heroes were dressed for the weather, but he himself had no cloak, and had to come up with a clever scheme to get one from one of his companions on the lokhos. Odysseus’ Cretan lie may well be playfully alluding to a Doloneia tradition, in which case the story is a coded verbal message ( ainos) directed at both the internal audience (Eumaios) and the external audience, who will “get” the inside reference. Such a reference is possible if we understand the Iliad (including the Doloneia) and Odyssey to be co-existing oral traditions, evolving in conjunction with one another. (On the ainos as a coded verbal message in Odyssey 14, see both Muellner 1976:97 and Nagy 1979:234–237, with further reference ad loc.) On the multiple significances of the shield being “intricately patterned” ( poikilos), see above on 10.30.

151. mvp-comment-53-1 10.151 ἐκτὸς ἀπὸ κλισίης σὺν τεύχεσιν Diomedes and his comrades are so ready for battle that they are not even inside their tent. Agamemnon had earlier stated his concern that the Trojans might be planning a night attack (10.100–101), and the preparedness seen here may also reflect the same “state of emergency” that is also prompting the night meeting and spying mission.

152-154. mvp-comment-54-1 10.152–154 ἔγχεα δέ σφιν/ ὀρθ᾽ ἐπὶ σαυρωτῆρος ἐλήλατο, τῆλε δὲ χαλκὸς / λάμφ᾽ ὥς τε στεροπὴ πατρὸς Διὸς Their spears are planted in a kind of palisade, perhaps as a defense while they sleep on this dangerous night, or perhaps so that they are easy to reach in case of attack. The shining of the bronze like lightning is a frequent image in Homeric poetry (see Iliad 11.66, which is also an explicit simile, and the metaphorical uses of στεροπή with bronze at Iliad 11.83 and 19.363, and Odyssey 4.72 and 14.268 = 17.437). In most of those cases, just as here, the gleam of the bronze has a threatening or awe-inspiring quality to it. That the bronze shines this way at night is suggestive in terms of what is visible in the dark.

159. mvp-comment-55-1 10.159 ὄρσεο The manuscripts are divided between this reading and ἔγρεο. The scholia indicate that Aristarchus had both readings: ὄρσεο· διχῶς ὁ Ἀρίσταρχος, ἔγρεο καὶ ὄρσεο [A intermarginal scholia]; ἔγρεο· γράφεται καὶ ὄρσεο. διχῶς αἱ Ἀριστάρχου [T interlinear scholia]. This is possible because two separate editions or ekdoseis of the text of Homer were attributed to Aristarchus (= αἱ Ἀριστάρχου in the scholia), both of which were known to his student Didymus. From Didymus’ scholarly work many of the scholia derive. (On the ekdoseis of Aristarchus, see Montanari 1998 and Nagy 2004:85–86. On the sources for the Homeric scholia, see Nagy 2004:3–24 and Blackwell and Dué 2009.)

159. mvp-comment-55-2 The sources, both ancient and medieval, are perhaps divided here because both verbs are well attested in the formulaic diction. ἔγρεο occurs here and in two places in the Odyssey; ὄρσεο is attested four times in the Iliad and once in the Odyssey. Clearly, both verbs could be generated by a poet composing in performance. Here is a perfect illustration of the difficulty a modern editor of Homer faces when trying to choose between two or more equally Homeric (= formulaic) variations. We, as the editors of this volume, have for this very reason rejected a traditional text critical approach, and instead have advocated a multitextual approach that accounts for the multiformity of the Homeric poems at different historical points in their transmission. (See above, “ Iliad 10: A Multitextual Approach.”)

159. mvp-comment-55-3 10.159 Τυδέος υἱέ See on 10.144 above. See also Schnapp-Gourbeillon 1981:96–100 for more on Diomedes’ patronymic and his youth.

159a. mvp-comment-56-1 10.159a The third-century CE scholar and poet Diogenes Laertius relates an anecdote (6.53) that features the hexameter line μή τίς τοι εὔδοντι μεταφρένῳ ἐν δόρυ πήξῃ. This verse is probably a literary play on Iliad 8.95: μή τίς τοι φεύγοντι μεταφρένῳ ἐν δόρυ πήξῃ. The twelfth-century scholar Eustathius may be in fact thinking of Diogenes and not Homer when he writes (in 519.32 ) ὁ Νέστωρ τῷ Διομήδῃ κειμένῳ πού φησιν· ἔγρεο, μή τις τοι καθεύδοντι μεταφρένῳ ἐν δόρυ πήξῃ (“Somewhere Nestor says to the sleeping Diomedes, ‘Wake up, lest someone pierce you in the back with a spear while you sleep’”; cf. Diogenes Laertius’ ἐπέγειραι, ἔφη … ). It is possible that Eustathius had a text of the Iliad with this line following 10.159, but the verse is attested nowhere else in our manuscripts.

177-178. mvp-comment-57-1 10.177–178 ἑέσσατο δέρμα λέοντος / αἴθωνος μεγάλοιο ποδηνεκὲς, εἵλετο δ᾽ ἔγχος Verse 177, after the caesura, and 178 are also used to describe what Agamemnon wears in 10.23–24, which is indicative of their formulaic nature and also suggestive of their use in night raid contexts generally.

179. mvp-comment-58-1 10.179 βῆ δ᾽ ἰέναι See on 10.32.

180-189. mvp-comment-59-1 10.180–189 As we discuss in the introductory essay “The Poetics of Ambush,” this simile emphasizes the sounds that are made in the dark, as well as describing a scenario of being on the defensive against a nocturnal attack (see above, pp. 63–64).

183. mvp-comment-60-1 10.183 δυσωρήσωνται is another hapax legomenon, appearing only in Iliad 10, but we can understand why it might only appear once in our extant Homeric epics from the simile’s interaction with its context. Although in other parts of the poem there are similes describing predatory animals attacking domestic flocks at night, and the retaliation of men and dogs (see e.g. Iliad 11.546–557), here the simile is for a particularly “painful” night watch. It is painful both because the young men on guard duty have had an extremely hard day of fighting and because the Trojans are camped out for the first time, closer than ever, during this night. (See also the commentary on 10.331 for more on words that appear only in Iliad 10.)

194. mvp-comment-61-1 10.194 τάφροιο διέσσυτο The act of crossing the ditch for the meeting conveys a spatial significance to the need the Achaeans feel and the plan they will construct to meet it. In Iliad 7, the Achaeans created a new boundary on the landscape by building their wall and ditch. The wall was built in the dark, before the dawn ( Iliad 7.433). In the subsequent daytime battles, the boundary created by these two elements is of the utmost importance. M. L. West notes that “once they have been built they are frequently mentioned again, in every book from the eighth to the eighteenth, as well as in the twentieth and twenty-fourth” (1969:255). The boundary is mentioned either in order to indicate who is winning at that point or whenever the tide of battle turns. In the battle that takes place on the day before the night of Iliad 10, for example, Hektor pens in the Achaeans behind the wall so that the entire space is filled with men and horses ( Iliad 8.213–216). The Achaeans rally after some inspiration from the gods and cross the ditch on the offensive ( Iliad 8.253–265), but Hektor forces them back over the ditch as he once again takes the upper hand ( Iliad 8.340–343). And, of course, the boundary will become even more significant the day after the night of Iliad 10, as the Trojans themselves cross it and threaten the ships with fire (the Trojans pass over the ditch and wall at the end of Iliad 12). Since the wall and ditch act as a threshold between the camp and the battlefield, one way of understanding the leaders crossing the ditch to hold their meeting is as a shift toward being on the offensive. Only the ditch is mentioned here: Petegorsky (1982:238n13) suggests that the “absence” of the wall presages its breach the next day. (For more on the poetic possibilities and traditional associations offered by the Achaean wall, see Boyd 1995.)

199. mvp-comment-62-1 10.199 ἐν καθαρῷ, ὅθι δὴ νεκύων διεφαίνετο χῶρος Another significant feature of the landscape on this night is the number of corpses left on the battlefield. No truce has been allowed this time for the gathering of the dead (compare the truce agreed to at Iliad 7.407–411). The Trojan camp is also in a space specifically said to be free of corpses (this same line is also used at Iliad 8.491), and a picture of the landscape covered with corpses is repeatedly evoked (10.298, 10.343 = 10.387, 10.469). Such a detail is a reminder of the intense battle of the day before, which is the reason both for the embassy to Achilles and for this meeting, which will result in the spying mission and ambush. It is also a harbinger of the even greater battle that will happen on the next day, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the nighttime landscape.

205. mvp-comment-63-1 10.205 θυμῷ τολμήεντι For the importance of a “daring (or enduring) heart” for spying missions or ambush, see below on 10.231, 10.244, and 10.248, as well as “The Poetics of Ambush.”

206-210. mvp-comment-64-1 10.206–210 Fenik (1964:41) excoriates these lines, calling the idea that the Trojans might retreat into the city “wholly fatuous,” and he uses them to inquire “whether some special grounds, other than general incompetence, were responsible for the K poet’s extraordinary failure here.” But the assumption that a different, individual author composed these lines leads to the kind of evaluation that Fenik makes. Instead, using approaches based in oral poetics, we can see how these lines do not ignore the situation that the Iliad has presented, but rather resonate with what is to come. Diomedes and Odysseus will indeed capture (and kill, ἕλοι can mean both) someone at the edge of the enemy ( ἐσχατόωντα): in fact, this can allude to both Dolon, from whom they will get information, and Rhesos, whose army is described as encamped at the edge: ἔσχατοι ἄλλων (10.434). Just so, the Trojans will not consider retreating on this night, though they will the next night (see Iliad 18.243–313). Petegorsky (1982:225–230) argues that Nestor’s proposal anticipates the later Trojan council scenes, during the next day’s fighting, particularly that in Iliad 18, in anticipation of Achilles’ return.

211-212. mvp-comment-65-1 10.211–212 καὶ ἂψ εἰς ἡμέας ἔλθοι / ἀσκηθὴς When he proposes the spying mission, Nestor includes the crucial completion of the mission: namely, that the spy return to report what he has found out. The return of the spy ‘unscathed’ connects to the greater theme, and it shares concepts with the theme of the journey. One concern with any of these nighttime or secret operations, such as spying missions or ambushes, is that, if those who undertake them do not return, their comrades may never know what happened to them. Whether, how, and by whom a spy has been killed cannot be verified, and it is such knowledge that allows a warrior to be buried and honored after death. This lack of knowledge provides a strong contrast to daytime battle, in which one comrade will see another fall, and will subsequently go to protect his corpse or to attack his killer in retaliation. That sequence in battle is a pattern we see again and again in the Iliad. The same contrast between a death in open battle (bringing honor) and a death that occurs on a journey (resulting in an inability to bury and honor the person lost because of a lack of knowledge as well as the lack of the corpse) is expressed by loved ones of Odysseus in the Odyssey. The sentiment is first expressed by Telemakhos:

But now the gods have willed it otherwise, devising evils,

235 who have made that man [Odysseus] unseen beyond all

mortals, since I would not grieve this way at his death

if among his comrades he was subdued in the district of the Trojans

or in the hands of his friends, when he had finished war.

All the Achaeans would have made a burial mound for him,

240 and he would have won great fame [ kleos] even for his child in the future.

But now the Arpuiai whirlwinds have snatched him up without fame [ kleos].

He is gone, unseen, unheard of. And for me pain and laments

he left behind.

Later ( Odyssey 14.365–372), Eumaios says something very similar in response to the disguised Odysseus’ story about the fate of Odysseus. He, too, contrasts the unknown circumstances of Odysseus’ presumed death at sea with a death in battle, after which a man’s comrades can bury him. A known death in battle brings kleos, which, having as its root meaning ‘something heard’ (see Nagy 1979:16, §2n3), is contrasted in Telemakhos’ words not only with an “unglorious” death ( Odyssey 1.241) but also with Odysseus himself, who is “unseen” and “unheard of” ( Odyssey 1.242). In Iliad 10, in the same line as ἀσκηθής (10.212), Nestor promises kleos to the man who undertakes this mission, but the return is necessary for that kleos to come about. For if a man were to go out on a nighttime spying mission, or an ambush, and not come back, he, too, would be unseen, unheard of, and could not be buried or honored properly.

211-212. mvp-comment-65-2 So the need to complete the mission, the need for a return, is one way that a spying mission resembles a journey in epic diction. Coming back unscathed, ἀσκηθής, is used elsewhere in Homeric epic of a return home or of some other completion of a journey. It is used prominently in Odyssey 5 of the need to have both Telemakhos ( Odyssey 5.26) and Odysseus ( Odyssey 5.144, 5.168) return to their fatherland ( πατρίδα γαῖαν). At the very beginning of the story of his wanderings, Odysseus says that he would have returned home unscathed if the sea currents had not prevented him from making his way to Ithaka ( Odyssey 9.79–81). Thus arriving unscathed seems especially associated with sailing journeys, as Odysseus also uses it in one of his Cretan lies, in this case for an easy sailing from Crete to Egypt ( Odyssey 14.255; cf. Solon fr. 19 [West], who says that Kypris sent him home unscathed [ askēthēs] in a fast ship for a good homecoming [ nostos] to his own land). In one additional case in the Odyssey, Odysseus tells Achilles that Neoptolemos was very successful in battle and ambush (see pp. 47–48), and later adds that he was never hurt in the fighting—he was ἀσκηθής, never touched by a weapon. Although the context has referred to both battle and ambush, the word actually describes Neoptolemos as he boards his ship for the journey home, again displaying the connection between sailing journeys and nostos. The “Odyssean” language that many scholars have noted in Book 10, and have even cited as proof of its non-Iliadic nature, may be a thematic result, not only of the greater prominence of ambush in the Odyssey, but also of this thematic overlap between spying missions or ambushes and journeys, especially journeys home and those over the sea.

211-212. mvp-comment-65-3 In the Iliad, ἀσκηθής is used in one other context, and that is, in fact, daytime battle. As Achilles prays to Zeus that Patroklos will be successful in saving the Achaeans and their ships from the Trojan onslaught, he asks as well that Patroklos then return unscathed to him at the swift ships: ἀσκηθής μοι ἔπειτα θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας ἵκοιτο ( Iliad 16.247). Patroklos is not going on an ambush here, and there is no concern that what happens to him will be unknown. Instead, the fact that he is going as Achilles’ substitute must also be a special kind of departure for battle, and the desire for the substitute to come back unscathed evokes this same word (see Nagy 1979:292–295 for Patroklos as a ritual substitute for Achilles in this battle). Zeus’ reaction is to grant the first part of Achilles’ prayer, but not the safe return: σόον δ’ ἀνένευσε μάχης ἐξαπονέεσθαι ( Iliad 16.252). Petegorsky (1982:220–221) argues that these two uses of ἀσκηθής in the Iliad highlight the isolation of Patroklos going into battle without Achilles, in contrast to the pairing of Diomedes and Odysseus.

212-213. mvp-comment-66-1 10.212–213 κλέος ‘glory in song’ and δόσις ‘gift’ are not incompatible rewards in Homeric epic. Throughout the Iliad material prizes are a physical manifestation of a warrior’s place in the song tradition and are a major sources of contention among heroes. In Iliad 1, when Agamemnon threatens to take Achilles’ prize ( γέρας), the woman Briseis, Achilles says that he does not intend to continue fighting ἄτιμος (‘without honor’, Iliad 1.171). As Casey Dué has noted, the dispute over prize women in Iliad 1 is actually about τιμή ( Iliad 1.161, 1.174, 1.412, 1.503–510). This word is generally translated as ‘honor’, but it conveys specifically the honor heroes receive after death in cult and song as immortalized heroes (Dué 2002:45; see also Nagy 1979:118). In Iliad 9, Achilles, struggling with his mortality, rejects the gifts of Agamemnon and at the same time rejects the glorious death he will have in battle ( Iliad 9.410–416). So too do the competitions for the prizes at the funeral games for Patroklos in Iliad 23 have far greater significance than their material value. In Iliad 23.700–737, Ajax and Odysseus compete in wrestling, foreshadowing their competition for the arms of Achilles after his death and for the title of “best of the Achaeans.” In Iliad 23, neither can decisively defeat the other, and eventually Achilles calls the contest a draw, pronouncing that the victory (along with two equal prizes) belongs to both. (The individual contests have been analyzed by various scholars. See e.g. Douglas Frame’s analysis of the chariot race in Frame 2009:131–172 and further bibliography ad loc.) In Iliad 24, Achilles accepts a ransom for Hektor’s body, even though he knows that he too will soon be dead. He asks Patroklos not to be angry with him for accepting it, and says that they will share it equally ( Iliad 24.589–595).

212-213. mvp-comment-66-2 When we understand that prizes are inextricably linked with kleos in this tradition, we can better understand episodes in which heroes act in ways that we might call “selfish,” episodes which are often incompatible with modern notions of heroism (see e.g. Stanford 1965 ad Odyssey 9.229). The Little Iliad, according to Proklos, narrated the theft of the Palladion, a story that survives in several variant versions in which Diomedes or Odysseus or both try to get sole possession of it, betraying the other (see Gantz 1993:643–644). Likewise, Rick Newton (2008 and 2009) has discussed the way that Odysseus seeks gifts at the expense of his comrades throughout his adventures. Newton suggests that, in the Odyssey, guest-gifts function like a geras does in the Iliad: guest-gifts, whatever their intrinsic material value, are tokens of honor and prestige for their recipient (cf. Odyssey 5.29–42 and 11.355–361). Odysseus’ heroic pursuit of guest-gifts generates delays in his homecoming and is instrumental in causing the death of his comrades along the way. See also Newton 2005, especially p. 141: “[In] Odyssean hospitality … the acquisition of property … enhances the honor and status of the hero … But that heroic hospitality, like successful warfare in the Iliad, comes at a price, and a high one … Odysseus will reach Ithaca late and alone.” An analogy can be made between the Iliadic deaths of countless Achaeans due to Achilles’ wrath over his stripped geras and the loss of Odysseus’ entire fleet and crew during his Odyssey nostos.

212-213. mvp-comment-66-3 Note also that Nestor says there is kleos for undertaking a spying mission, making it parallel to fighting in battle. Nestor promises the sheep and a share at a banquet (see Nagy 1979:118–141 for connections between hero cult and portions at feasts), but the horses of Rhesos also become the reward and a visible sign of the success Diomedes and Odysseus achieve.