296. mvp-comment-109-1 10.296 It is a typical feature of Homeric poetry and its oral traditional nature to say again that they had both prayed even after the previous line, which closes Diomedes’ prayer, indicates the same. The “fullness of expression” that may at times seem feeble or repetitive in poetry composed in writing is a natural component of oral composition-in-performance.

297. mvp-comment-110-1 10.297 βάν ῥ᾽ ἴμεν See on 10.32.

297. mvp-comment-110-2 10.297 ὥς τε λέοντε δύω There are other examples in our Homeric texts of a pair of lions together. Only in the case of Hektor and Patroklos fighting do we find a simile of two lions fighting each other ( Iliad 16.756–761). There are three examples, however, of lions hunting together as a team. At Iliad 5.539–560, Aeneas kills two twin brothers, Orsilokhos and Krethon, who are compared to two lions that prey on cattle and sheep until they are finally killed by the weapons of men. At Iliad 13.170–202, Teucer kills the Trojan Imbrios, and Hektor in return kills Amphimakhos. Ajax beats Hektor back, and the Achaeans drag both corpses out of battle. The Aiante, when they carry the corpse of Imbrios off the battlefield, are compared to two lions snatching a goat from the guard dogs and carrying it high in their jaws into the brush. These lion similes belong to a tradition of similes about lions attacking herds of domesticated animals, whether cattle, sheep, or goats, which are often protected by dogs and men. There are also two lions depicted on the shield of Achilles that attack a bull, drag it off, and gorge themselves on its blood while keeping dogs at bay ( Iliad 18.579–586). A pair of lions working together, therefore, seems to be a traditional image, and as we can see from the similes in Iliad 5 and 13, this image is associated with special pairs of fighters. See above on 10.243 for Diomedes and Odysseus as one of these special pairs, especially in ambush situations, and also on 10.53 and 10.228 for the Aiante, when that dual form means Ajax and Teucer, as it seems to in Iliad 13. For more on lion similes in Homeric epic, see Scott 1974, Moulton 1977, Schnapp-Gourbeillon 1981, Lonsdale 1990, and Muellner 1990.

297. mvp-comment-110-3 Also noteworthy in this simile, in terms of composition, is the lack of clear division between the lions and the warriors—both can be imagined going through the night, slaughter, corpses, war gear, and black blood. That is, at the end of 10.297 it seems like we could be going into an extended simile, but once we reach 10.298, and especially the mention of the war gear, we must reconsider the boundary of the simile. The simile then seems to be of the sort that is the ultimate compression: simply “like two lions” (compare other compressed lion similes at Iliad 5.299, 11.129, 12.293, 15.592, 17.542, and 24.572 and at Odyssey 9.292 and 23.48). Leonard Muellner (1990) has compellingly argued that these shorter similes are indeed compressed versions of the longer, more detailed lion similes, rather than the longer being (newer) extensions of these shorter types. Therefore, even this short phrase would evoke the imagery of two lions working together, as we see in greater detail in other similes. For similes involving lions that attack at night, see 10.485–488. See Scott 1974:90 for the combination, as on this line, of the formula βῆ/ βᾶν δ’/ ῥ’ ἴμεν followed by a simile.

298. mvp-comment-111-1 10.298 ἀμ φόνον, ἀν νέκυας, διά τ᾽ ἔντεα καὶ μέλαν αἷμα As we have already seen on 10.199, corpses and gore are a significant feature of the landscape on this night. The second half of this line ( διά τ᾽ ἔντεα καὶ μέλαν αἷμα) appears again at 10.469 as Odysseus and Diomedes move toward the Thracians. The scholia cite this phrase in different ways, reflecting various practices of ancient textual criticism. Looking at just the scholia in the Townley manuscripts (in the edition of Maass), for example, we see that the phrase is cited as a parallel use of διά with an accusative, as on Iliad 15.1 and 22.190. In this way, 10.298 is treated no differently from any other line in showing “Homeric” usage. This same phrase, however, is objected to on Iliad 23.806, because it is “transferred from the Doloneia,” an argument that reflects the Alexandrian dislike of repeated phrases, even though we know they are a natural and necessary element of oral composition-in-performance (see also 10.51–52).

299-300. mvp-comment-112-1 10.299–300 οὐδὲ μὲν οὐδὲ Τρῶας ἀγήνορας εἴασεν Ἕκτωρ / εὕδειν, ἀλλ᾽ ἄμυδις κικλῄσκετο πάντας ἀρίστους At the beginning of Iliad 10, where Agamemnon cannot sleep because of worry, he looks out at the Trojan encampment and wonders at both the sight of the many fires and the sounds of flutes and pipes and the clamor of men (see 10.11–13). From that description, we already know that the Trojans are not sleeping. But this passage can also be a compressed version of the theme of a leader who cannot sleep and so calls together a council to make a plan. We see such a theme at the beginning of Iliad 2, as well as in this book (see comments at 10.1ff.). In the process of oral composition-in-performance, the singer can compress or expand a theme, Lord’s term for “the groups of ideas regularly used in telling a tale in the formulaic style of traditional song” (Lord 1960/2000:68; for the singer’s ability to expand and compress themes, see Lord 1960/2000:78–80, 88–91). So here the singer, who has already sung a version of the theme for the scene at the Achaean camp, merely mentions sleeplessness and the calling together of the council without the development and expansion seen earlier. Even the enjambment of the verb εὕδειν on the second line of this compressed version is reminiscent of that at Iliad 2.2 and 10.2, indicating a compositional pattern.

300-301. mvp-comment-113-1 10.300–301 The identity of the ἄριστοι (10.300) whom Hektor calls together is explained by the following line: the leaders and rulers of the Trojans. On both sides, the leaders are regularly called the ἄριστοι (compare the same sense of the word on 10.1, 10.117, 10.214, and 10.273, as well as below on 10.326). Within this group, however, there is a competition to be the best of all, and participation in these dangerous nighttime missions is part of that competition: see above on 10.236 for this heightened sense of the word ἄριστος and the role that the best men play in ambush.

302. mvp-comment-114-1 10.302 πυκινὴν ἠρτύνετο βουλήν See above on 10.5–9 and 10.43–44 for more on the significance of πυκινός and planning in the ambush theme. This same phrase is used at Iliad 2.55, another episode that begins at night, when the Achaeans are similarly debating the very thing that Hektor wants to find out on this night: whether they should continue fighting or return home. There, the plan they decide upon also involves deception. In other contexts, too, the verb ἀρτύνω is used to set an ambush ( Odyssey 14.469) or to devise false stories ( Odyssey 11.366), so it, too, has thematic associations with cunning, deception, and ambush. Thus the whole phrase thematically encompasses the kind of plan that Hektor here proposes.

304. mvp-comment-115-1 10.304 μισθός Disapproving interpretations of this term have added to the negative reception of the character of Dolon, from the scholia in the Venetus B and Townley manuscripts through to negative assumptions made in passing in more recent studies such as Schnapp-Goubeillon 1982:58, Holoka 1983:8, and Coffee 2009:62. (Hektor is criticized as well for offering a reward that he does not himself have, at that point, to give.) In Homeric diction, the term is used as remuneration for work, such as woodworking ( Iliad 12.435) or shepherding ( Odyssey 10.84), and can be used within a taunt ( Odyssey 18.358, although so can ‘guest-gift’ [see Odyssey 9.370]). But misthos is also used for what Poseidon and Apollo expect in return for building the walls of Troy ( Iliad 21.445, 21.450, 21.451, 21.457), so the labor itself need not be common. μισθός is also connected with another ambush episode: Menelaos says that the “pay” for the men who watched for Agamemnon’s return on Aegisthus’ behalf was two talents of gold ( Odyssey 4.524–526). There, the task has a negative sense to it, but does the fact that pay is involved make this so? Focusing exclusively on the word misthos here ignores both that the reward is called a δῶρον in this same line (similar to Nestor calling his offer a δόσις, see 10.213) and that the spy will get κῦδος (10.307) for this mission as well. There may indeed be an implicit contrast in the poetry between the rewards offered on each side on this night, but condemnation of Dolon based on a notion of “work-for-pay” is too extreme, nor does it seem evident that misthos is indicative of the “unheroic” character of Dolon or of the Doloneia as a whole.

305. mvp-comment-116-1 10.305 ἐριαύχενας ἵππους Parry notes that ἐρι- is the Aeolic prefix. The Ionic form, ἀρι-, has the same metrical value, and so we would expect such words to shift to the Ionic. But, Parry argues, exceptions to that general rule of the evolution of Homeric language, such as we have in this case, show that “not only the bards’ habit of using epithets with the Aeolic prefix, but also their sense of the formula which contained such epithets, protected the prefix here from their tendency to keep only those elements of the λέξις ξενική which differed metrically from the corresponding Ionic forms.” Parry also notes that ἐριαύχενας appears only within this formula (Parry, MHV 181n1). From this we can see how conservative the oral composition process can be, in addition to how formulaic phrases can be thought of, used, and preserved by the singers as a unit.

305-306. mvp-comment-117-1 10.305–306 The recorded textual multiforms for 10.306 provide a good example of how oral composition operates within its tradition. In 10.305, Hektor offers as the great gift a chariot and two horses, and in the reading of the main text of the Venetus A, in 10.306, he further qualifies that he will give whichever horses are best at the swift ships of the Achaeans ( οἵ κεν ἀριστεύωσι θοῇς ἐπὶ νηυσίν Ἀχαιῶν). The scholia in the A manuscript record three different readings by the three major Alexandrian Homeric scholars, which in turn all differ from this main text. First, it says that Aristarchus read οἵ κεν ἄριστοι ἔωσι θοῇς ἐπὶ νηυσίν Ἀχαιῶν. The meanings of that version and that of the main text of A are similar: Hektor indicates that the gift will be the best of the Achaean horses, but he does not make it any more specific. The difference between ἀριστεύωσι and ἄριστοι ἔωσι may be a performance variation, or it might have been introduced at some point in the textual tradition. Both Zenodotus and Aristophanes, however, knew versions of a line that did specify which horses: those of Achilles. Zenodotus read αὐτοὺς οἳ φορέουσι ἀμύμονα Πηλείωνα (“the ones which carry the faultless son of Peleus”), similar to line 10.323 below. Aristophanes read something slightly different: καλοὺς οἳ φορέουσι ἀμύμονα Πηλείωνα (“the fine ones which carry the faultless son of Peleus”).

305-306. mvp-comment-117-2 In these four readings, then, we see how from performance to performance certain words or phrases might be used in place of one another, ἀριστεύωσι or ἄριστοι ἔωσι, αὐτοὺς or καλοὺς. But the choice between simply stating “whichever are best” and specifying the horses of Achilles reveals a deeper layer. In either case, Dolon would likely name the horses of Achilles in his reply, as he does in our version (see 10.323), so it is not a question of someone else’s horses being offered as a prize that is at issue here. Instead, if the singer sings “whichever are best at the ships of the Achaeans,” a traditional audience will immediately think of Achilles’ horses, knowing that they are indeed the best. We know this, too, because at the end of the catalog of ships, the narrator asks the Muse who was the best of the men, and who the best of the horses ( Iliad 2.761–762). Eumelos’ mares are at first mentioned as the best horses ( Iliad 2.763–765) and Ajax, son of Telamon, as the best man, but then both are qualified by the statement that this was true only so long as Achilles stayed angry, since both he and his horses were by far the best ( Iliad 2.768–770; there, too, we have a similar phrase to describe the horses: ἵπποι θ’ οἳ φορέεσκον ἀμύμονα Πηλείωνα). So the singer may be implicit or explicit about which horses Hektor is offering, and these textual variations record different possibilities for how the line was performed. As we will see in further detail below (see 10.332), in both the Iliadic tradition and in other versions of this story, Hektor has his own designs on capturing the horses of Achilles (for example, he pursues them after the death of Patroklos, who drove them into battle, see Iliad 17.483–496), and the performance variation of whether Hektor is explicit or not in naming Achilles’ horses as the reward may be related to whether the singer has in mind that aspect of the tradition. In any case, these variations recorded in the scholia of the Venetus A reveal the multiplicity of the compositional possibilities here.

307. mvp-comment-118-1 10.307 τλαίῃ See p. 75 and on 10.248 for the connection between this verb and ambush.

307. mvp-comment-118-2 10.307 κῦδος ἄροιτο For this use of arnumai with kudos or kleos, compare Iliad 4.95 and 5.3 and Odyssey 1.240. Just as Nestor promises both κλέος and a δόσις for whoever will undertake the spying mission for the Achaeans (see above on 10.212–213), so also Hektor promises a δῶρον (304) and also κῦδος to the volunteer among the Trojans. As we argued above, these are clear indications that success on an ambush was considered prestigious for Homeric warriors.

312. mvp-comment-119-1 10.312 καμάτῳ ἀδηκότες See on 10.98 for more on this phrase.

313. mvp-comment-120-1 10.313 ὡς ἔφαθ᾽, οἱ δ᾽ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ This is a whole line formula, which we find in nine other places in our texts: Iliad 3.95, 7.92, 7.398, 8.28, 9.29, 9.430, 9.693, 10.218, 23.676. At 10.218, the same verse is used for the Achaean reaction to Nestor’s proposal for a spying mission. In general the formula is used after a challenge by one man to a group, whether his own comrades or the enemy, and this verse serves as a pause before another individual responds in one way or another to the challenge. It is another example of the traditional nature of the language of Iliad 10.

314-317. mvp-comment-121-1 10.314–317 These four lines provide us a brief introduction to Dolon. We are given his father’s name (314), and we learn that his father was a herald (315) and that Dolon was his only son, but that he had five sisters (317). Dolon is also described as wealthy (315), not good looking, and swift (316). We discuss in detail in the Dolon section of our essay “Tradition and Reception” how we understand Dolon’s traditional status. Here, we will look at each of these elements individually, each in its own context. To understand these characteristics properly, we must investigate what each attribute would mean to a traditional audience by examining evidence from the tradition itself, leaving aside any of our own cultural assumptions.

314-315. mvp-comment-122-1 10.314–315 Εὐμήδεος υἱὸς / κήρυκος θείοιο A patronymic is often read as a sign of traditionality: that is, a character with a patronymic has a lineage within traditional epic (for more about this initial line of introduction, see “Tradition and Reception” above). As we see here, and again when the patronymic is used on lines 412 and 426, it is also a useful formula for composition: combined with Dolon’s name, it fills the line from the weak caesura to the end of the line, one of the most common metrical patterns for name-epithet formulas. The enjambment of his father’s occupation on the next line is compositionally noteworthy: it is not necessary to complete the thought of the previous line (indeed, none of these details are strictly necessary—line 318 could follow 314 with no loss of sense). As Lord reminds us, “This absence of necessary enjambment is a characteristic of oral composition and is one of the easiest touchstones to apply in testing the orality of a poem. Milman Parry called it an ‘adding style’; the term is apt” (Lord 1960/2000:54). Eumedes’ role as herald must strongly suggest itself to the singer when his name is used in the patronymic formula. Scholiasts offer the possibility that Odysseus and Diomedes would perhaps know Dolon because he accompanied his father on official dispatches to the Greek camp (see below on 10.447). But there may also be implicit contrasts here: his father the herald visits the Achaean camp in an official capacity during the daylight. We can compare Iliad 7.370–415, when the Trojans decide at dinner time to send Idaios to the Achaeans at dawn the next day (see Iliad 7.370–372, 380–381). That is, it is made explicit that the herald will wait for daylight to go to the opposing camp, rather than immediately going in the dark. Dolon, as a spy at night, is a different kind of unofficial “visitor” to the enemy camp. Heralds are divinely protected in their duties, as the epithet θεῖος indicates, but spies are not, and Dolon cannot expect protection, or even mercy, when he encounters the Achaeans on his mission.

315. mvp-comment-123-1 10.315 πολύχρυσος πολύχαλκος Dolon is also described as wealthy: “rich in gold, rich in bronze.” These epithets are more commonly used of places in our texts, and Dolon is the only person to be called by them. Mycenae is called πολύχρυσος three times ( Iliad 7.180, 11.46, Odyssey 3.305). Sidon is called πολύχαλκος ( Odyssey 15.425), as is the ouranos ( Iliad 5.504; Odyssey 3.2), perhaps because of an association between the sky and the homes of the gods, which have bronze floors ( Iliad 1.426, 14.173, 21.438, 21.505, Odyssey 8.321). The combination of both adjectives πολύχρυσος and πολύχαλκος is used only of Troy in our texts ( Iliad 18.289), when Hektor says that formerly all mortals used to speak of Priam’s city as rich in gold, rich in bronze, but now the Trojans have had to sacrifice most of that wealth ( Iliad 18.285–292). So the question emerges whether the combination of these adjectives evokes an association between Dolon and Priam’s Troy and its eventual doom, despite its wealth. Such an association may be too far-reaching, since in our texts Troy is described with these adjectives only once, although it is a very wealthy city according to tradition. Certainly Dolon’s wealth comes into play after his capture: when he promises Diomedes and Odysseus a great ransom (10.378–381) the traditional characteristic of his wealth indicates that he could indeed pay handsomely in exchange for his life.

316. mvp-comment-124-1 10.316 ὃς δή τοι εἶδος μὲν ἔην κακός, ἀλλὰ ποδώκης These two characteristics are contrasted, one negative (ugly) and one positive (swift-footed). The phrase εἶδος … κακός is analogous to the more frequently used constructions for being good-looking, such as εἶδος ἄριστος / - η ( Iliad 2.715, 3.39 = 13.769, 3.124, 13.365, 13.378, 17.142, Odyssey 11.469 = 24.17) and εἶδος ἀγητός / - όν / οί ( Iliad 5.787 = 8.228, 22.370, 24.376, Odyssey 14.177). Compositionally, it is most like Odyssey 11.469 (= 24.17), which is also a relative clause with ἔην between the noun and adjective.

316. mvp-comment-124-2 When we think of Homeric heroes who are explicitly labeled ugly, the first to come to mind is Thersites, who is described as “the ugliest man who came to Troy” ( αἴσχιστος δὲ ἀνὴρ ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθε, Iliad 2.216). We know that αἴσχιστος refers to his looks in particular because the next three lines expand on this adjective with details of his physical appearance: he is bandy-legged and lame in one foot, his shoulders hunch over his chest, and his head is pointy, with sparse hair on top ( Iliad 2.217–219). He is especially hateful to Achilles and Odysseus, two preeminent heroes of the epic tradition ( Iliad 2.220). Of course, Odysseus has a bitter encounter with Thersites in Iliad 2, and we know from Proklos’ summary of the Aithiopis that Achilles will eventually kill him in anger. Indeed, although we are told by the narrator that Thersites is a source of laughter ( γελοίϊον, Iliad 2.215), and in his lameness he might be thought similar to Hephaistos, whose bustling provokes laughter ( Iliad 1.599–600), Thersites provokes anger from the Achaeans (see Kouklanakis 1999). Dolon’s ugliness, by comparison, is not dwelled upon, and does not seem to provoke any particular strong reaction, whether ridicule, repulsion, or irritation (see, however, 10.400 for Odysseus’ smile and 10.446 for Diomedes’ glare as their reactions to Dolon upon his capture). Yet pairing Thersites and Dolon based on their looks might also suggest that, in the Iliad, Odysseus, whose own appearance is not unequivocally impressive ( Iliad 3.209–224), seems to have the role of confronting ugly men (but in neither case is he their killer).

316. mvp-comment-124-3 In contrast to his bad looks, Dolon does have the positive attribute of being swift-footed ( ποδώκης). For a traditional audience, as well as for us, the epithet “swift-footed” brings to mind Achilles, of course. Achilles has two other “distinctive” (in Parry’s terms) epithets that indicate his swiftness, ποδάρκης and πόδας ὠκύς (Parry, MHV 64, 145), but he is also called “swift-footed” with the adjective ποδώκης twenty-two times in the Iliad and twice in the Odyssey. In addition to Achilles and Dolon, the adjective is also used for horses four times (in one of these cases, it is applied to the horses’ drivers in an apparent transference of the epithet). So, here, the epithet evokes both Achilles and horses just before Dolon asks for Achilles’ horses as his reward for undertaking the spying mission (10.322–323). Achilles, we know, is the best looking of the Achaeans, as well as the best overall (his horses are the best as well, see Iliad 2.769–770), and the trait of swiftness that Dolon shares with him heightens the contrast of Dolon’s ugliness. As we will see below (10.330), there seems to be a prohibition on the taking of Achilles’ horses by his enemies within the Iliadic tradition, and Odysseus’ reaction to Dolon’s confession that he has been promised them also points to this contrast: Dolon is like Achilles in being fast, but he is no Achilles. Like Dolon, however, Achilles is also involved in ambushes at night (see e.g. Iliad 21.34–39 and “The Poetics of Ambush”). Achilles’ swiftness has been understood as an important quality in battle, and it may also be so for ambush missions. If this is the case, Dolon’s swiftness will likewise be important for the spying mission he volunteers to undertake. We will see Dolon run, but he is outsmarted and overtaken by Odysseus and Diomedes. In one of his Cretan lies, Odysseus claims to have ambushed and killed Orsilokhos, a son of Idomeneus, in Crete, and he says that Orsilokhos is swift-footed, faster than all other seafaring men in wide Crete ( Odyssey 13.259–270). That story provides another example of the victim of an ambusher being swift. It may be that the strategy involved in ambush is traditionally associated with overcoming physical talents, such as being a fast runner.

317. mvp-comment-125-1 10.317 αὐτὰρ ὃ μοῦνος ἔην μετὰ πέντε κασιγνήτῃσιν Dolon’s status as an only son may be a detail that increases the audience’s sympathy for his death. Although some modern scholars revile Dolon completely (on this line, see e.g. Holoka 1983:8–9 and Hainsworth 1993, who calls Dolon a “sissy”), an ancient audience might have reacted quite differently. For example, we might compare Ilioneus the son of Phorbas: he is a Trojan identified as an only son, and his brief life story, given at the moment of his death, seems intended to arouse sympathy based on that status ( Iliad 14.489–492). Both Achilles and Odysseus are only sons (as is Odysseus’ son Telemakhos, in the Odyssean tradition), and the epics offer intensely emotional scenes about the potential loss of the son. In Iliad 24.485–512, Priam appeals to Achilles to think of his father and how much he hopes to see his son return home, and Achilles weeps remembering both Patroklos and his father. In Odyssey 24.345–348, Laertes indeed sees his only son return home after twenty years and faints. We see the hope of and joy at the son’s return also embodied in a simile comparing Eumaios’ joy at greeting Telemakhos to a father greeting his only son ( μοῦνος at Odyssey 16.19, just as here) coming home from a foreign land in the tenth year, having suffered greatly ( Odyssey 16.17–19). Following this self-referential Odyssean simile, Eumaios kisses Telemakhos as though Telemakhos has escaped death. In fact, Telemakhos has just outsmarted the suitors in their ambush attempt, and so has escaped death (see also Odyssey 17.47, where Telemakhos says he has just escaped sheer destruction). Dolon will not return after he is ambushed, so his status as an only son should engender some sympathy for his father. Hainsworth (1993 ad loc.) objects to any notion of sympathy because Dolon’s status as an only son is mentioned here, but not at his death. At the moment of his departure, however, we already know that Dolon will die (10.336–337), so any sympathy evoked here is not that far from the indication of his death.

317. mvp-comment-125-2 The detail of Dolon’s five sisters might add to the pathos in a different way, for brothers are possible avengers, and Dolon has none. (As an example of a brother as an avenger, compare Iliad 14.478–485, where Akamas stands over his fallen brother, claiming a poinē for him and saying that a man prays to leave someone behind him in his home to avenge his death in battle.) The death of a brother often causes anger and desire for revenge (e.g. Iliad 9.567, 11.248–258, 16.320) or is offered as a standard measure of a great loss (e.g. Iliad 9.632–636, 24.46–49). Once Dolon is dead, his sisters have a potential future fate as captive women: both Andromache and Briseis mention the loss of their brothers in war as a factor in their dire straits ( Iliad 6.421–424 for Andromache; Iliad 19.293–294 for Briseis). Both of these factors, then, can be seen within the Homeric tradition to potentially evoke sympathy for Dolon’s death.

317. mvp-comment-125-3 Throughout the Iliad passages that introduce warriors just before they die and provide details of their biographies would likely have served a commemorative function, and, compressed though they are, often share themes and imagery with traditional female laments, such as those sung by Andromache, Briseis, and Achilles’ mother Thetis in the Iliad. Many of these passages seem to be focalized through the eyes of a mother or widow. There are several examples of this phenomenon. In Iliad 11.221–228, we hear the story of Iphidamas, who leaves behind his bride to “go after the kleos of the Achaeans.” In Iliad 4.473–489, we learn how Simoeisios comes to be named by his parents, and that he dies before he can repay their care in raising him. He is compared to a felled poplar, a use of plant imagery that is also common in lament. The death of Gorgythion at Iliad 8.302–308 is a particularly beautiful example of this kind of passage, for which we use the evocative translation of Samuel Butler:

The arrow hit Priam’s brave son faultless Gorgythion in the chest. His mother, fair Kastianeira, lovely as a goddess, bore him after she had been married from Aisyme, and now he bowed his head as a garden poppy in full bloom when it is weighed down by showers in spring—even thus heavy bowed his head beneath the weight of his helmet.

translation based on that of Samuel Butler We can easily imagine these words spoken in the first person by Kastianeira upon learning of the death of her son in battle. Indeed, epic poetry is infused with the imagery, themes, and language of lament, so much so that a number of scholars have speculated that women’s lament traditions played a crucial role in the development of epic. Epic poetry narrates the glory of heroes, the klea andrōn, but it also laments their untimely deaths and the suffering they cause. That these lament-filled passages are more often than not sung for the death of the Trojans and their allies, and in this case the spy Dolon, is a testament to the remarkable parity of compassion that underlies the Iliad. Both sides are mourned equally. On the relationship between lament and epic, women’s songs and men’s songs, see Murnaghan 1999, Nagy 1999, Sultan 1999, and Dué 2002 and 2006a. On the mortality of the hero as a central theme of epic, see also Schein 1984, Greene 1999, and above on 10.259. On passages that lament the death of heroes in a highly compressed form, such as the one quoted from Iliad 8 here, see also Tsagalis 2004:179–187. Tsagalis argues that lament is “the form of speech that best represents the poem’s perspective” (167). If he is right then it is illuminating to consider that Dolon may once have been understood to be as deserving of sympathy and lamentation as any of the warriors who fall in battle in the Iliad.

319. mvp-comment-126-1 10.319 Ἕκτορ ἒμ’ ὀτρύνει κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ The same formula is used when Diomedes volunteers, with Nestor’s name in place of Hektor’s. See the commentary on 10.244 for the connection between “heart and audacious spirit” ( κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ) and alternative warfare tactics like spying missions or ambush.

325-327. mvp-comment-127-1 10.325–327 As we know from 10.56, 10.126–127, 10.180, and 10.198–199, the council first gathers at the watch station and then crosses the ditch to hold their deliberations. Dolon’s supposition of where to find them, then, is wrong, but not entirely misguided. Earlier that morning, the Trojan herald Idaios found the Achaeans assembled near the stern of Agamemnon’s ship ( Iliad 7.382–383). Earlier on this night Agamemnon held a council of the leaders in his shelter ( Iliad 9.89–90), and it was there that the embassy returned to deliver their news ( Iliad 9.669). Another council had been held at night at Nestor’s ship ( Iliad 2.53–54). That such councils are usually held at the ships gives even greater meaning to the choice of a meeting place across the ditch (see on 10.194 and 10.199).

325-327. mvp-comment-127-2 Another question that scholars have raised about his supposition, however, is whether Dolon is ignorant of the ditch and wall, since he does not mention them. In discussing another so-called problem connected to the wall—namely, whether or not it is present in Iliad 10, and if it is, how Agamemnon can see over it to the Trojan camp at the beginning of the Book—Shewan (1911:181) argues against such prosaic demands of the poetry. Fenik (1964:60) argues that presuming some version of the Doloneia in which there is no wall goes too far, and he notes that, in the Rhesos (213), Dolon is aware of the ditch and the wall but intends to be able to spy anyway. So when Dolon says that he will go through the Achaean encampment all the way to Agamemnon’s ship, we can easily understand that he is including making his way across the ditch and wall. But, of course, he will never make it that far. Exactly how he will get over them becomes a moot point, especially given that this is a traditional story in which his fortunes are not only known but are even foretold as he leaves (see below on 10.336–337).

329. mvp-comment-128-1 10.329 Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἐρίγδουπος πόσις Ἥρης At 10.5 Zeus is named only as “the husband of Hera with her beautiful hair” ( πόσις Ἥρης ἠϋκόμοιο); here, his name is combined with the epithet phrase “the loud-sounding husband of Hera.” These two epithets reveal more about how oral traditional language operates within composition-in-performance. Zeus is called the husband of Hera with these two formulas, and Alexander is called “radiant Alexander, the husband of Helen, with her beautiful hair” ( δῖος Ἀλέξανδρος Ἑλένης πόσις ἠϋκόμοιο, Iliad 3.329 = 7.355 = 8.82; see also Iliad 11.369 and 11.505, where δῖος is replaced by αὐτάρ and εἰ μή, respectively). In Homeric diction the word πόσις is used in other cases, such as that of Hektor as the husband of Andromache ( Iliad 6.484, 8.190, 22.439) and of Odysseus as the husband of Penelope in the Odyssey (18.253, 19.126, 19.549), when the wife of a man is part of his epic identity and so is used in naming him within the tradition. In the case of Paris and Zeus, then, that key relationship has been fashioned into traditional epithets. Their epithets that include the adjective ἠϋκόμοιο have likely been formed by analogy. Parry notes that the formula found on this line is especially associated with prayer, whether expressing a wish or calling Zeus to witness oaths (MHV 181–182; for an oath, compare Iliad 7.411). See above on 10.305 for the prefix ἐρι-.

330. mvp-comment-129-1 10.330 ἐποχήσεται This verb is likewise used (in its only other appearance in our texts) at Iliad 17.449, when Zeus will not allow Hektor to take Achilles’ horses after he kills Patroklos, whom the horses mourn nearby. A telling cross-reference can be made, then, with this resonant verb: Hektor promises to Dolon that no one else will take Achilles’ horses, and in Book 17 it is Hektor himself who is prohibited from doing so by Zeus. Within the larger tradition, this verb may be part of a traditional vocabulary about Achilles’ horses and may therefore evoke for a traditional audience the embedded knowledge that Achilles will never lose his horses to his enemies. (See also below at 10.402–404.) At Iliad 17.75–78, Apollo actively dissuades Hektor from going after the horses. Disguised as Mentes, Apollo tells Hektor that he runs in pursuit of something unattainable ( Ἕκτορ νῦν σὺ μὲν ὧδε θέεις ἀκίχητα διώκων). In both of these cases, it is a god who forbids the theft from happening, and Zeus recalls there how it was the gods who gave the horses to Peleus. That the horses were originally a wedding gift to Peleus from the gods may account for why Achilles’ horses are not subject to the same vagaries of warfare as, say, Rhesos’ horses are. Deep familiarity with this vocabulary would also shape the audience’s reception of the request by Dolon and promise by Hektor.