415. mvp-comment-167-1 10.415 βουλὰς βουλεύει For the importance of “plans” in night and ambush contexts, see pp. 69–73 and also on 10.1ff, 10.43–44, and 10.302. At 10.302, Dolon’s spying mission is the plan that Hektor proposes, but here Dolon implies that Hektor is still in the process of making plans. We might note that Dolon’s use of the present tense also seems to imply that he expects Hektor to still be there, just as the Achaean leaders wait at the council meeting place for Diomedes and Odysseus to return (see below on 10.564).

415. mvp-comment-167-2 10.415 θείου παρὰ σήματι Ἴλου From the geneaology of the Trojan royal family that Aeneas tells Achilles at Iliad 20.213–240, we learn that Ilos was the son of Tros, the father of Laomedon, and grandfather of Priam. His name is related to the name of Ilion. His grave mound acts as a landmark on the Trojan plain: both its prominence and the adjective θείου suggest that it was the site of a hero cult for Ilos (see Nagy 1979 on hero cult and the Homeric epics). This landmark also appears in two other episodes related to ambush. In Iliad 11, Paris hides behind the stele on the grave mound as he shoots an arrow at Diomedes ( Iliad 11.369–383; at Iliad 11.372 Ilos is called Dardanos’ son, perhaps meaning descendant, or perhaps reflecting a different geneaology: see Gantz 1993:557–558 for the question). This grave mound acts as a landmark again at Iliad 24.349, when Priam journeys to the Achaean camp to ransom Hektor’s body. After they pass the grave mound, Priam and his herald stop to water the horses and mules at the river, and it is there that Hermes meets them (see “The Poetics of Ambush” for both of these episodes as related to the ambush theme, and also 10.1ff. for Priam’s night journey). That Hermes meets them at this point suggests that Priam is then in a dangerous space and needs protection (as Thornton 1984:154 also observes). The grave mound is also used as a landmark during the daytime fighting: when Agamemnon routs the Trojans, they pass by this grave mound ( Iliad 11.166) and then the fig tree as they move to the city. Thornton identifies the features of the Trojan landscape, in order from the walls of Troy to the ships of the Achaeans as: “the oak-tree of Zeus, the fig-tree, the tomb of Ilus, the ford of the Scamander, the “rise” or hillock on the plain, and the Achaean ditch or wall” (Thornton 1984:150; see also Hainsworth 1993:243 on Iliad 11.166 for this grave mound’s place in the Trojan landscape). Thus we can see that the Trojans are rather close to the Achaeans on this night, and that the fearful thoughts Agamemnon has at the beginning of Iliad 10 are justified.

415. mvp-comment-167-3 The spatial information Dolon gives here in terms of this landmark will recur in even greater detail in his subsequent answers. Spatial indications are important to ambushers moving through the darkness. (See also Clay 2007 on spatial indications in descriptions of battle in Homeric poetry.)

416. mvp-comment-168-1 10.416 νόσφιν ἀπο φλοίσβου Dolon describes the meeting place as being apart from the noise of the rest of the encampment. It seems likely that we should envision the Trojan meeting as closer to the Achaean camp than the Trojan camp, just as the meeting of the Achaean leaders is closer to the Trojans: they cross the ditch and move out onto the plain (10.194–195).

416. mvp-comment-168-2 10.416 ἥρως This term often is used as the sixth foot in a line (over twenty times in the Homeric epics), and is used as a vocative (in any metrical position, but most often in the first or sixth foot) four times in the Iliad and four times in the Odyssey, either alone, as here (see also Iliad 20.104, Odyssey 4.423, 7.303, 10.516), or with the personal name of the hero ( Iliad 11.819 and 11.838 with Eurypylos and Odyssey 4.312 with Telemakhos). So although Hainsworth (1993:194), commenting on this line, says that “the unqualified vocative in the sixth foot in mid-speech is otiose and rare,” isolating this usage with that many qualifications may be overstating it. The equivalent nominative form is often found in the sixth foot, and there is even a fairly common formula that uses it in this position, αὐτὰρ ὅ γ’ ἥρως ( Iliad 5.308. 5.327, 8.268, 11.483, 13.164, 23.896), indicating that this word in the sixth foot was useful and good for composing-in-performance. The other vocative uses in this position that appear in our texts, it is true, are those in which ἥρως modifies a name, but since the vocative is used elsewhere, to find this particular use strange may be a case of already concluding that Iliad 10 as a whole is strange, and using this as one more piece of evidence for that conclusion. From a compositional point of view, a word often used in the sixth foot could easily be used in this way by analogy.

416-422. mvp-comment-169-1 10.416–422 The lack of watches among the allies creates a situation ripe for ambush, and we can at least consider the possibility that Dolon gives this information, as well as the information about Rhesos and the Thracians in his next response, to divert the Achaeans away from the Trojans themselves. We have seen night watches arranged by the Trojans before this night: when the previous night fell, Priam set up a night watch around the city of Troy ( Iliad 7.370–371; these same lines appear again at Iliad 18.298–299, when Hektor likewise sets up a night watch on the night following this one). The implication of those watches is that a night ambush may happen on any night (and, of course, we do hear about such episodes at Troy at Odyssey 4.244–258 and Odyssey 14.468–503). Because the Trojan army and its allies are spending this night out on the Trojan plain, however, more elaborate arrangements are made as night falls at the end of Iliad 8. The night watch in the city will on this night be manned by elders and boys, while the women light fires, all to prevent an attack on the city while the army is outside it ( Iliad 8.517–522). Hektor also establishes a watch “on ourselves” ( Iliad 8.529), and the fires he orders lit so that they can see if the Achaeans try to sail away ( Iliad 8.507–511) number one thousand, with fifty men and their horses stationed at each ( Iliad 8.562–565). The allies are not mentioned separately at this point, but Dolon’s words here make it appear that they are not included in those groups around the watch fires. At the beginning of Iliad 10, we can recall, Agamemnon both saw these fires and heard music and men talking around them ( Iliad 10.11–13). So there is a key contrast here between the awake and watchful Trojans and the sleeping allies—and also one between the kind of watch that the Achaeans arrange for the whole army (see Iliad 9.66–88) and the more diffuse watches of the Trojans.

416-422. mvp-comment-169-2 This latter arrangement may show how unusual the situation is for the Trojans: camping out on the plain for the first time, they are grouped as if they had gone to their family homes within the city. This arrangement is also consistent with what we see of the Trojans elsewhere in the Iliad. Gould argues that Trojan society “is a model based on an almost complete equation between the city of Troy and the οἶκος ‘household/family’ of Priam, with the consequence that ties of obligation in Troy are seen as those that obtain within an extended family” (2001:343–344). The fact that the watch fires are here called “home-fires” ( πυρὸς ἐσχάραι, 10.418) reinforces the idea that these are family groups, each responsible for its own watch.

423. mvp-comment-170-1 10.423 See the textual commentary on p609 for its recorded multiform on this line.

424-431. mvp-comment-171-1 10.424–431 Here, we see again the need for spatial information in a night ambush. Odysseus wants to know exactly the arrangements of the Trojan camp, and such knowledge will help not only his entrance but also his exit and successful return.

430. mvp-comment-172-1 10.430 Θύμβρης Thymbrē is located on the Trojan plain, where the Thymbrios river meets the Skamander in “the inner recesses of the Trojan plain southeast of Troy” (Luce 1998:124, with reference to Strabo 13.1.35) and is the site of a sanctuary dedicated to Thymbraion Apollo. Thornton (1984:150) argues that most places in the topography of Troy “are consistently associated with a particular sort of situation or with a particular party or person in the poem.” Thymbrē, mentioned only here in our Iliad, is associated with ambush in the larger epic tradition about the Trojan War. It is the site of Achilles’ ambush of Troilos (according to the scholia in the Townley manscript on Iliad 24.257; see also Apollodorus, Epitome 3.32) and also the site where Achilles himself is killed in an ambush by Paris and Apollo (see above on 10.29). It is also known as the place where Laokoon’s sons are killed (see Gantz 1993:648). Thus it is not surprising to find it mentioned here, and only in Iliad 10 within our Iliad, since it is so closely tied to the ambush theme.

432-434. mvp-comment-173-1 10.432–434 See the textual commentary on p609 for its recorded plus verse in this passage.

433. mvp-comment-174-1 10.433 εἰ γὰρ δὴ μέματον Τρώων καταδῦναι ὅμιλον We also find this use of καταδύω to mean ‘go behind enemy lines’ in an ambush theme at Odyssey 4.246: ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων κατέδυ πόλιν εὐρυάγυιαν, and again at 4.249. (Athena’s action at Iliad 4.86 seems to have a similar flavor, but Apollo also “sinks into” the crowd of Trojans below at 10.517, and the Trojans are not his enemy, so the verb seems to specify gods visiting mortals in those cases.) It is also used to mean ‘enter’ battle ( Iliad 3.241 and 18.134).

435. mvp-comment-175-1 10.435 The scholia on this line in the Venetus A, Venetus B, and Townley manuscripts provide information on the multiform, traditional story of Rhesos. See the section on Rhesos in our essay “Tradition and Reception” for the texts of these scholia and a full discussion. As we saw on 10.406–411, Odysseus’ question about the horses and armor in general might have prompted this answer. Or Dolon may be directing them to the allies “furthest” from the rest in an attempt to deflect a more destructive attack. But in this version, in which Rhesos has not yet fought in battle at Troy and in which we have no oracle about his possible invincibility, it is through Dolon’s “advice” here that Rhesos becomes a target. That Rhesos is the son of an Eioneus here, and not the river Strymon as he is elsewhere, also serves to make him a more “mortal” target, although one still important as a king of freshly arrived troops who has spectacular horses.

436-437. mvp-comment-176-1 10.436–437 The horses of Rhesos are thematically significant in multiple ways. In one version of the story of Rhesos (see the Rhesos section of our essay “Tradition and Reception”), the so-called “oracle version,” Rhesos’ horses are intimately tied to the destiny of Rhesos and to that of Troy, since the oracle declares that, if Rhesos and his horses eat and drink at Troy, Rhesos will be invincible. The whiteness of the horses, as we see later in this episode (see commentary on 10.547), makes them highly visible even in the dark of night. (Schnapp-Goubeillon sees a ritual significance to their color, saying that a white horse is the sacrificial victim par excellence in horse cults, 1981:117.) Their size and swiftness, noted by Dolon here, also make them a valuable prize. The practical and symbolic importance of horses in general in the Iliad is evident in the singer’s questions that follow the catalog of ships: the narrator asks who had the “best” horses as well as who was the best warrior ( Iliad 2.761–770). That is, horses seem to be as much a part of the competition to be the best as is excellence in battle. (The answer given to these questions is that Achilles and his horses were the best, but only after it has been said that Eumelos’ mares and Telamonian Ajax were the best so long as Achilles was absent.) The value of horses is also seen in Diomedes’ acquisition of his enemies’ horses in Iliad 5. When he gives instructions to Sthenelos to capture the horses of Aeneas at Iliad 5.263–273, the most prominent example, Diomedes says capturing them will win them good kleos ( εἰ τούτω κε λάβοιμεν, ἀροίμεθά κε κλέος ἐσθλόν, Iliad 5.273), making their symbolic value glory itself.

436-437. mvp-comment-176-2 The possibility of taking these horses, when added to the attractiveness of the target of the sleeping, unguarded Thracians, combines ambush with horse-rustling, a closely associated theme. We will consider below (at 10.513–514) whether the theme of horse-rustling affects the composition of this nighttime horse-stealing episode, as compared to the taking of horses in daytime battle. But just as we have seen that spying missions frequently become ambushes, so also can ambushes incorporate this type of night raid (see pp. 80–84 of “The Poetics of Ambush” for other examples).

436-437. mvp-comment-176-3 Shewan 1911:179–180 has already dismissed the argument that the lack of reference to these horses subsequently in the Iliad is evidence that Iliad 10 is a late addition to the epic.

438-441. mvp-comment-177-1 10.438–441 The elaborate chariot and gold armor of Rhesos also mark him as an important and desirable target. Agamemnon’s armor includes gold ( Iliad 11.25), as does the armor Hephaistos makes for Achilles ( Iliad 18.475, 549, 612). Gold armor is memorably seen elsewhere in the exchange between Diomedes and Glaukos, in which Glaukos gives Diomedes his gold armor for Diomedes’ bronze as a sign of their inherited guest-friendship ( Iliad 6.232–236). Nestor also has an all-gold shield, which Hektor hopes to capture. He says that if he does take Nestor’s shield, along with Diomedes’ breastplate, then the Achaeans will depart that very night ( Iliad 8.191–197)—in fact, the night on which this ambush episode occurs. So there may be an association between the taking of gold armor and the outcome of the war, and Rhesos’ gold and silver chariot and gold armor may have a similar significance, relating it to versions of the Rhesos story in which his death prevents a possible Trojan victory (see “Tradition and Reception” for a full discussion of these other versions).

438-441. mvp-comment-177-2 The phrase θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι is used elsewhere in the Iliad for armor (that which Achilles inherits from Peleus but which Hektor is wearing at that point, Iliad 18.83) and other golden objects (Hebe’s chariot, Iliad 5.725, and Hephaistos’ wheeled tripods, Iliad 18.377). Since Achilles’ original armor was a wedding gift to Peleus from the gods, all these examples are also associated with the gods, as Rhesos’ armor is in Dolon’s words. In the Odyssey, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι is associated with cloth or clothing ( Odyssey 6.306, 8.366, 13.108) or buildings ( Odyssey 7.45), but always those of divinities or the Phaeacians. From a compositional point of view, then, the following comment that his armor seems like that of the immortals is an expansion of this phrase.

446. mvp-comment-178-1 10.446 ὑπόδρα ἰδών is another formulaic facial expression that is part of speech introductions (compare 10.400). This look is given at least twenty-six times in the two epics, twenty times within the formula τὸν/ τὴν/ τοὺς δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη + epithet + name (thirteen times in the Iliad, seven in the Odyssey, Holoka 1983:3n6; Beck 2005:34, 284). Holoka, quoting Stanford, asserts that “The actual facial expression signified by ὑπόδρα ἰδών is quite unmistakable: ‘looking (out) from beneath (scil. beetling or knit) brows’,” and also cites research on facial expressions for the “distinctiveness of this positioning of the brows as a universally recognized sign of anger” (1983:4n8). That anger, Holoka argues, is a reaction to what the previous speaker has just said. In sum, Holoka argues: “In both Homeric epics, to look darkly is to employ a nonverbal cue fraught with judgmental significance. The speaker, whatever his message, transmits by his facial demeanor that an infraction of propriety has occurred … In all instances, the facial gesture ὑπόδρα ἰδών charges the speech it introduces with a decidedly minatory fervency and excitement: a threshold has been reached and such inflammable materials as wounded pride, righteous indignation, frustration, shame, and shock are nearing the combustion point” (1983:16). Holoka is focusing especially on the cases (twelve times in the Iliad) in which this look is given by one comrade (often a superior) to another (often a subordinate), and he says that the situation with Dolon is a different case because it is between enemies (1983:8).

446. mvp-comment-178-2 In fact, the most telling parallels for this fierce look of Diomedes at Dolon come from the Odyssey, where Odysseus gives this look to the suitors, either individually ( Odyssey 22.60, 22.320) or as a group ( Odyssey 22.34), as well as to Iros ( Odyssey 18.14) and the disloyal slave Melantho ( Odyssey 18.337, 19.70). (These last two are exceptional in that the look is given to a woman; other than Zeus looking at Hera this way, all those who receive the expression are male. But the formula is flexible in accommodating the gender change.) These looks given to the suitors show both contempt and suspicion, anger and fear, and we can see this same mix of emotions in the words of Diomedes that follow this instance. Both Diomedes here and Odysseus in Odyssey 22 follow up this look at an enemy with beheading him. In the Odyssey, Odysseus gives this look to Leiodes, the suitor who, as we hear upon his introduction as the first to try the bow ( Odyssey 21.144–147), had found the reckless deeds of the suitors hateful and felt righteous indignation toward them. It is this man who supplicates Odysseus; Odysseus rejects his plea for mercy and beheads him (see also below on 10.456–457). Given to an enemy, then (and we can add that Achilles gives this look to Hektor three times at Iliad 20.428, 22.260, 22.344), this look carries with it a danger of sudden violence: the combustion point is not merely approached, it is quickly reached. So here also we see the flexibility of the formula within its context: the essential meaning of the expression is maintained, but the expectation of what will follow is shaped by whether the look is given to a comrade or to an enemy.

446. mvp-comment-178-3 As we saw above on 10.400, these telling facial expressions are sometimes absent in other versions. Allen’s (and subsequently, West’s) papyrus 90 (Oxyrhynchus 6.949) has the possible multiform [ τον δ ημειβετ επειτα βοην αγα] θος Διομηδης. See 10.283 for more on this multiform.

447. mvp-comment-179-1 10.447 μὴ δή μοι φύξίν γε Δόλων ἐμβάλλεο θυμῷ The scholia in the Venetus A and B and Townley manuscripts on this line are all concerned with the fact that Diomedes calls Dolon by name, when Dolon has not told them his name. In the Venetus A, the line is marked with a diplē, indicating that Aristarchus made a comment about the language of the line. The lemma in this manuscript for the comment is actually the beginning of the line, demonstrating that a lemma can be simply an indication of the line being commented on, and not the specific words concerned. The scholion in the Venetus A explains that the line is marked “because Aristarchus is asking, how does he know the name? Thus some read ‘ δολῶν’ [that is, “being tricky”], like νοῶν [that is, the participle would be formed the same way].” With this alternative reading, the line would read “Don’t be tricky and put thoughts of escape in your heart.” There is at least a sound-alike connection between Dolon’s name and δόλος ‘trick’ (see also Higbie 1995:12). The scholion goes on to point out that Odysseus also later uses Dolon’s name, in 10.478, implying that it cannot be the participle there, and so we have to accept that Diomedes and Odysseus know his name without knowing exactly how they know it. The scholion goes on to suggest that it is likely that they would know the names of some men, since it has been ten years, and perhaps especially Dolon’s since he is the son of a herald who is wealthy (citing 10.315). The scholia in the other two manuscripts take a similar approach to the problem, noting Dolon’s father’s role as a herald and that Dolon is among the leaders of the Trojans who are called to the meeting earlier in the book, or suggesting simply that we should understand that they asked his name when they overpowered him. Higbie (1995:87) compares a similar case in the Odyssey in which the narrator has introduced Theoklymenos to the audience, and Telemakhos knows his name without a direct introduction within the narrative. This concern for how they know his name, although understandable from a literary point of view, does not apply to an oral traditional narrative composed in performance. As Hainsworth (1993:197 ad 10.447) affirms, “what his audience knows an epic poet may let his characters know too.”