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.

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.”

454-456. mvp-comment-180-1 10.454–456 Diomedes kills Dolon before Dolon can touch him in a gesture of supplication. On supplication in Homeric epic, see Crotty 1994, Wilson 2002, and Naiden 2006. According to these analyses of the act of supplication, Dolon’s supplication begins at 10.378–381 with his offer of ransom ( apoina) if he can be taken alive (see also our comments at 10.378–381). At that point, Odysseus and Diomedes have grabbed Dolon’s hands, so that he is unable to make this clasping gesture. (Such a scene is visualized by the Dokimasia painter on a kylix cup from c. 480 BCE [St. Petersburg, Hermitage B.1539], with Dolon pictured in his wolf skin.) According to Naiden’s arguments, the person being supplicated always has the freedom to reject the request, as Diomedes does here (see Naiden 2006:181 for this particular example of supplication).

455-457. mvp-comment-181-1 10.455–457 Beheading the enemy, as gruesome or repulsive as it may seem to a modern audience, does occur several times in the Homeric epics, either as the method of killing or as an act carried out after killing, and in most cases, it is the Achaeans who do it. In Iliad 13, the two Ajaxes take the corpse of the Trojan Imbrios, a husband of one of Priam’s illegitimate daughters. They strip the corpse of his armor, and Ajax, son of Oileus, cuts off Imbrios’ head and throws it so that it ends up at Hektor’s feet ( Iliad 13.201–205). Oilean Ajax, the rapist of Kassandra, is known to commit war atrocities during the sack of Troy, but this beheading happens during the course of regular, daytime battle. Achilles beheads Deukalion at Iliad 20.481–483 after pinning his arm with a spear (in other words, Deukalion cannot fight back at that moment). Although Achilles is acting beyond normal human boundaries at this point in his story, he is also depicted in two sixth-century vase paintings as beheading Troilos (see Gantz 1993:600), an incident much earlier in the war, and one that also involves ambush. Agamemnon beheads Köon over the body of his brother Iphidamas ( τοῖο δ’ ἐπ’ Ἰφιδάμαντι κάρη ἀπέκοψε παραστάς, Iliad 11.261) without hesitation. Hektor plans to behead Patroklos’ corpse after he strips it ( Iliad 17.126). In a series of back-and-forth killings with vaunting afterwards, Penelos kills Ilioneus, a Trojan introduced as he dies as the beloved of Hermes and an only child of a wealthy man. Penelos’ spear hits Ilioneus in the eyesocket, and then Penelos cuts off Ilioneus’ head with his sword and holds it up, helmet still on and spear still in eyesocket, to show it to the Trojans ( Iliad 14.493–507). All of these examples come from the battle that rages on the day following this night, when the fighting is most intense and the stakes at their highest for the Achaeans.

455-457. mvp-comment-181-2 The closest parallel to the beheading of Dolon in terms of language and situation, however, occurs during Odysseus’ ambush of the suitors. During the slaughter in Odysseus’ home, Leiodes supplicates Odysseus, but Odysseus kills him anyway ( Odyssey 22.310–329). In both cases, then, there is an attempted supplication, and a verbal response followed by a swift beheading. As Odysseus responds to Leiodes’ arguments for why he should be spared, Odysseus gives him the same fierce look ( Odyssey 22.320) that Diomedes gives Dolon here (see 10.446). In both cases the killer drives a sword through the victim’s neck ( αὐχένα μέσσον ἔλασσε, Iliad 10.455, Odyssey 22.328), and the graphic detail of the victim’s head still talking as it mixes with the dust is included ( Iliad 10.457 = Odyssey 22.329). We may certainly question how these actions inform the character of the killers and the action of the episode, but we must also recognize that beheading is “Homeric” in the sense that the Iliad and Odyssey represent it as happening in the intensity of battle and of ambush.

456. mvp-comment-182-1 10.456 φασγάνῳ ἀΐξας This formula is used to describe a particular cutting motion with the sword. ἀίσσω generally refers to any quick motion, but we can see from the few other uses of this phrase in the Iliad that it means to use the sword to cut rather than to stab. At Iliad 5.81, Eurypylos flashes his sword at Hypsenor and cuts off his arm. In Iliad 8, one of Nestor’s horses has been struck with an arrow as Nestor is trying to retreat from the battlefield. Nestor uses his sword at Iliad 8.88 (there the present participle ἀίσσων is used instead of the aorist participle) to cut the harness straps from that horse in his attempt to escape (compare the use of ἀΐξας alone for cutting a horse loose at Iliad 16.474). Thus we should imagine this motion to be quick, with the edge of the sword positioned to cut through whatever it is aimed at. The one use of the phrase in the Odyssey (at 22.98) occurs when Telemakhos is afraid that one of the suitors will attack him in this way if he stops to remove his spear from one of his victims during the battle with the suitors; it gives no other indications about what the motion is. As in all of the cases in the Iliad, however, the example from the Odyssey does show that this phrase is used in a line initial position, enjambed with the previous line. That consistent position gives us an important clue as to how a singer would use this phrase in performance.

456. mvp-comment-182-2 10.456 ἀπὸ δ᾽ ἄμφω κέρσε τένοντε Compare the same phrase at Iliad 14.466, where a spear thrown by Telamonian Ajax cuts through the top vertebra of Arkhelokhos, effectively beheading him.

458-459. mvp-comment-183-1 10.458–459 If we compare these lines depicting the stripping of Dolon’s weapons and “armor” (the wolf skin) to the arming scene at 10.333–335 where he put them on, we find that different epithets or adjectives and even names of the items are used here. Such differences suggest that compositionally the theme of stripping armor employs different combinations of formulas to repesent the same items described in arming scenes. The ambush-related items nevertheless remain prominent: the headgear made of animal hide, the animal skin, and the bow. Holoka (1983:9) calls this stripping of armor “a near parody of standard battlefield practice” particularly because of the “paltry panoply” of the wolf skin, spear, and bow. Yet it is precisely this panoply that will indicate that Diomedes and Odysseus have ambushed an ambusher.

459. mvp-comment-184-1 10.459 δόρυ μακρόν As Sherratt 1990:811 points out, the single long thrusting spear (as opposed to lighter, smaller, paired throwing spears) is a weapon “most at home in the 13th century or considerably earlier.” Achilles’ Pelian ash spear is likewise of this earlier kind, and Hektor’s spear, which is eleven cubits long (e.g. Iliad 6.319), may be as well. See above on 10.263–264 for more on the way that such artifacts can reveal archaeological layers in the text.

460-464. mvp-comment-185-1 10.460–464 In the prayers to Athena at the outset of the mission, both Odysseus and Diomedes emphasize their personal relationships with Athena in asking for her help and protection (see commentary on 10.275 and 10.291). In this address to the goddess, that request is renewed, but their initial success in capturing and killing Dolon is associated with the goddess as well. Athena’s prominent role not only here but also in the Odyssey reveals her to be a goddess of ambush. At Odyssey 20.44–51, she tells Odysseus that, with her on his side, they could take far more men than the suitors and drive away their livestock, a description that combines the ambush narrative pattern of one or two killing many with that of a cattle raid. Odysseus similarly states earlier that, with Athena on his side, he could fight three hundred suitors ( Odyssey 13.389–391). Proklos’ summary of the epic Little Iliad describes the building of the wooden horse as “according to Athena’s plan of action” ( κατ’ Ἀθηνᾶς προαίρεσιν), indicating that she is the mastermind of that ultimate ambush at Troy. On the shield of Achilles ( Iliad 18.516), Athena and Ares together lead an ambush from the city at war. And it is of course Athena who warns Telemakhos about his impending ambush by the suitors ( Odyssey 15.28). Stagakis (1987–88:70) examines the language here in detail and concludes that this passage does “not indicate that the spoils were vowed or dedicated to Athena,” but the technicalities of the religious nature of what is or is not happening here do not diminish the association between Athena and ambush.

465-466. mvp-comment-186-1 10.465–466 Gernet (1936:192–196) and Davidson (1979:64) both connect the hanging of the wolf skin in a tree with initiation rituals in which the initiate must remove his clothes, hang them on a tree, and live “like a wolf” for his period of separation. We have seen other hints that ambushes and night raids are associated especially with young men, those at the right age for such an initiation (Odysseus would be an exception, of course): see commentary on 10.259. For more on the wolf skin, see commentary on 10.334.

466-468. mvp-comment-187-1 10.466–468 We see here another example of details appropriate to nocturnal actions. Odysseus and Diomedes could leave these spoils behind without worrying that someone else will take them during the night; instead, the concern is that they may not be able to find them again in the darkness, hence the need to make a sign conspicuously or clearly ( δέελον δ᾽ ἐπι σήματ᾽ ἔθηκε, 10.466). Odysseus creates such a sign by tying the branches of the tamarisk tree (a large, dense, shrub-like tree) to the reeds below. We will see later, of course, that this sign works, when Odysseus and Diomedes stop and pick these spoils up on their return (10.526–529). This sort of planning is necessary in the dark.

466-468. mvp-comment-187-2 The tamarisk grows often near water, and the reeds mentioned here also suggest a wetland environment, perhaps the bank of a river. We see these characteristics of the plant in its other appearances in the Iliad: Achilles leans his spear against a tamarisk before he leaps into the Xanthos river to kill the Trojans he has forced into it ( Iliad 21.18) and later, when Hephaistos sets the corpses in the river on fire, tamarisks are among the plants listed as burning along the river ( Iliad 21.350). The denseness of the plant is seen at Iliad 6.39, when the horses of Adrestos become tangled in a tamarisk and his chariot is broken, setting the horses loose. We have seen that a woody or marshy area—that is, one filled with plants—is often chosen for an ambush (see “The Poetics of Ambush”), and the tamarisk itself may also have a particular association with ambush. In the Homeric Hymn to Hermes, the god, who is called “a robber, driver of cattle” ( ληϊστῆρ’, ἐλατῆρα βοῶν, Homeric Hymn to Hermes 14) and “a spy at night” ( νυκτὸς ὀπωπητῆρα, Homeric Hymn to Hermes 15), among other epithets, is himself associated with the night and the ambush theme, as we also see in his role in guiding Priam during Priam’s infiltration of the Achaean camp in Iliad 24 (see “The Poetics of Ambush” and above on 10.1ff. for fuller discussion). According to the hymn, on the evening of the day he is born, Hermes steals the cattle of Apollo (see “The Poetics of Ambush” also for how cattle rustling is part of the larger ambush theme). When Hermes is driving these cattle at night, he stops and makes himself sandals, weaving together tamarisk and myrtle branches ( συμμίσγων μυρίκας καὶ μυρσινοειδέας ὄζους, Homeric Hymn to Hermes 81). Odysseus ties together tamarisk and reeds here in another kind of weaving of this plant, accompanying another night ambush. Schnapp-Gourbeillon (1981:115) suggests that this plant has religious associations (see also Wathelet 1989:221n35).

468. mvp-comment-188-1 10.468 θοὴν διὰ νύκτα μέλαιναν See on 10.394 for this formula.

469. mvp-comment-189-1 10.469 τὼ δὲ βάτην προτέρω For the use of the dual for a pair of ambushers working together, see on 10.254.

471-475. mvp-comment-190-1 10.471–475 The sleeping arrangements of the Thracians seem quite orderly from this description, even though they are exhausted before falling asleep (see also the following note). One implication of this orderliness seems to be that the only arrangement not made was setting up a guard, and this lack results in their being vulnerable to ambush. Within the Achaean camp, the sleeping arrangements of Nestor (10.74–79) and Diomedes (10.150–156) are similarly detailed, suggesting that such descriptions are part of the night ambush theme. We see that the details of the scene are appropriate to each hero or group, similar to the way arming scenes are adapted for each hero.

471. mvp-comment-191-1 10.471 οἱ δ᾽ εὗδον καμάτῳ ἁδηκότες See note on 10.98 for more on καμάτῳ ἀδηκότες. There, we saw that this formula is especially connected to night themes, and that the weariness can be from either fighting all day or traveling, as we saw in the example from Odyssey 12. Since we are dealing here with a version of the Rhesos myth in which he has not yet fought at Troy—Dolon has to tell Diomedes and Odysseus of his presence since he is “newly arrived” (10.434)— the formula seems to be used for their deep sleep after traveling that day to Troy. For more on the versions of the Rhesos myth in which he fought for one day at Troy, see the Rhesos section of our essay “Tradition and Reception.”

482. mvp-comment-192-1 10.482 τῷ δ᾽ ἔμπνευσε μένος γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη Athena breathes menos ‘force’ into Diomedes as he starts the slaughter. A similar expression is used for Apollo breathing menos into Hektor so that he may return to battle ( ὣς εἰπὼν ἔμπνευσε μένος μέγα ποιμένι λαῶν, Iliad 15.262; Apollo does so at Zeus’ suggestion, see Iliad 15.60), and he does the same for Aeneas later ( Iliad 20.110). We also see a connection between menos and breathing at Iliad 3.8, where the Achaeans breathe menos as they enter battle. During Diomedes’ aristeia in the polemos, Athena tells him that she has put menos into his chest, the kind of menos his father used to have ( Iliad 5.124–126). Thus this “inspiration” happens between gods and their favorites, and we find in this episode in Book 10 a pattern of opposition between Athena and Apollo (we can compare their direct rivalry in Iliad 7). In the Rhesos, Athena uses speech instead to incite ambush, as she prompts Diomedes and Odysseus to attack Rhesos and the Thracians though they are ready to turn back to their own camp ( Rhesos 594–625; see also Fantuzzi 2006b:163–170).

485-488. mvp-comment-193-1 10.485–488 This compressed lion simile describing Diomedes’ slaughter of the Thracians calls our attention to the lion similes elsewhere in the Iliad that happen explicitly at night. The shepherdless flocks in this simile correspond well to the Thracians who sleep unguarded, and the absence of a shepherd suggests that, like Diomedes, the lion is attacking at night. To support this argument, we can compare the slightly longer simile at Iliad 15.323–326, where the attackers also find the herds or flocks unguarded:

In this simile, two wild beasts, which Lonsdale (1990:66, 131) identifies as lions, attack. Important details here include the time, the dead of night, and the lack of a shepherd, just as in 10.485. The sudden appearance of the lions ( ἐλθόντ’ ἐξαπίνης) is likewise similar to ambush language, in which the attacker appears out of the darkness or his hiding place to surprise his victims (compare 10.496–497 below for how the poetic language represents such a sudden appearance of an ambusher). Because this simile has so much in common with the one at 10.485–488, we can draw the inference that the simile of Diomedes’ attack is also imagined to be happening in the dead of night, but that compression has left that detail implicit. We can compare also Iliad 12.299–308, where Sarpedon is compared to a lion trying to get inside the πυκινὸν δόμον ( Iliad 12.301) of the sheep—that attack is also likely to be taking place at night, when the sheep are in their pen. See 10.5–9 for more on the relation of the adjective pukinos to the ambush theme. The lion attacks because he is hungry, but also because his audacious spirit bids him to: κέλεται δέ ἑ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ, Iliad 12.300. Compare the “audacious spirit” that motivates both Diomedes (10.220) and Dolon (10.319) to undertake the spying missions.

485-488. mvp-comment-193-2 We see lions attacking flocks explicitly at night in still other similes, such as at Iliad 11.172–178, where the Trojans are compared to cattle when a lion has panicked the whole herd. In that simile, similar to Iliad 15.324, the time, the dead of night, is indicated by the phrase ἐν νυκτὸς ἀμολγῷ ( Iliad 11.173; see also Tsagalis 2008:153–187 for more on this phrase and what he sees as its Indo-European imagery, connected to cattle, the sun, and danger), and the fear and confusion of the herd animals is a central feature ( ἐφόβησε, Iliad 11.173), while death comes to one in particular ( Iliad 11.174–176). This fear and confusion is replayed on the battlefield as Agamemnon routs the Trojans, but the simile itself has the feeling of an ambush. Lonsdale (1990:118–122) has also argued that lion and cattle similes like this one adapt the epic theme of the cattle raid. See “The Poetics of Ambush” for the cattle raid as part of the ambush theme.

485-488. mvp-comment-193-3 In two of the similes of lions attacking at night, similes that share much of the same formulaic language, the lion is unsuccessful because of the watchfulness of the men and dogs who guard them ( Iliad 11.546–557 and Iliad 17.655–666). In these examples, we see that they must keep watch all night long ( πάννυχοι ἐγρήσσοντες, Iliad 11.551 and Iliad 17.660), and it is only at dawn that the lion finally withdraws ( Iliad 11.555 and Iliad 17.664). These lions, who go away empty-handed, provide a contrast to what we see depicted at 10.485–488, where the lack of a shepherd watching the herd enables the lion to successfully attack: in the simile world, a steadfast night watch can counteract ambush tactics. We can also hearken back to the watchdog simile at 10.180–189 and see that comparison as an indication both that the wakeful and watchful Achaean guard is indeed the kind needed on this dangerous night and that it is a mistake on the part of the Thracians to fall asleep without a guard to watch over them. Lion similes, so common in the narration of fighting in the polemos, also have affinities with the ambush theme, and a lion attacking at night should especially be seen in this light. That lion similes work for both themes can also be taken as another indication that the two types of warfare are not diametrically opposed, just as we have seen warriors such as Diomedes himself, but also Achilles, who excel at both. See also Schnapp-Gourbeillon 1981:104–131 for her extended discussion of Diomedes the lion in Iliad 10.

488. mvp-comment-194-1 10.488 δυώδεκ᾽( α) Gernet (1936:200) argues that twelve victims is a number with ritual significance, and we can compare the sacrifices of twelve cows ( Iliad 6.93 = 6.274 = 6.308) and twelve sheep ( Odyssey 8.59), as well as the twelve Trojan youths Achilles sacrifices on Patroklos’ pyre ( Iliad 21.27–28, Iliad 23.175). Germain (1954:17–18) notes that in the Iliad twelve is a number used for enemies killed and similarly relates that usage to its use as a number of sacrificial victims.

488. mvp-comment-194-2 10.488 πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς See above on 10.148 for this epithet of Odysseus.

495. mvp-comment-195-1 10.495 τρισκαιδέκατον The number thirteen seems to be almost a “round number” or to have a completing or capping aspect to it in Homeric diction. Just as the most important victim, Rhesos, is thirteenth, Alkinoos counts himself as the thirteenth basileus among the Phaeacians ( Odyssey 8.390–391). Similarly, when Odysseus chooses men for the mission to investigate further the land of the Cyclopes, he chooses twelve, counting himself as thirteenth, although the number itself is not cited there ( Odyssey 9.195–196). Thirteen also seems to round off or cap lengths of time, such as the thirteen months that Ares is held bound in chains by Otos and Ephialtes before Hermes rescues and frees him ( Iliad 5.387). It is on the thirteenth day that Odysseus and his crew leave Crete after being trapped there by a north wind ( Odyssey 19.202). When Odysseus recounts to Laertes the gardens his father had promised him as a young man (as part of proving his identity to him), the numbers are all what we would consider round (ten apple trees, forty fig trees, fifty vines), but also include thirteen pear trees ( Odyssey 24.340). Perhaps the completing aspect is related to the lunar calendar, the year coming round in the thirteenth moon. Germain (1954:10) includes thirteen among numbers that are “presque fantomatiques.”

497. mvp-comment-196-1 10.497 This line was omitted by Zenodotus and Aristophanes, according to the A scholia, and athetized (but therefore included) by Aristarchus. Papyri such as p425 and the medieval manuscript tradition do include it. Objections have been made to the accusative τὴν νύκτ’, which would more often mean ‘all night long’ than ‘on that night’, as the sense seems to demand. Indeed, according to Allen, the tenth-century Laurentian manuscript (D) has τῇ νύκτ’, seemingly correcting the problem. But Fenik finds another parallel and concludes that the accusative can have the sense of “time when” (Fenik 1964:49). What has been less well understood is the equation this line makes between Diomedes and the bad dream standing at the head of Rhesos. We discuss this use of language in detail in our essay “The Poetics of Ambush” (pp. 68–69). In brief, the syntax has Homeric parallels in other ambush situations and seems to replicate the emergence of an ambusher in the dark. As Fenik (1964:51–52) has argued, with the parallel of the charioteer’s nightmare in the tragedy Rhesos, a dream may have been part of the Rhesos tradition, and we may have a very compressed allusion to it in 10.496. That dream, alluded to, then becomes reality in the figure of Diomedes.

497. mvp-comment-196-2 10.497 διὰ μῆτιν Ἀθήνης This phrase has been considered problematic by ancient and modern critics alike. A comment in the Venetus A scholia objects that the ambush of Rhesos is happening through the information given by Dolon rather than Athena’s plan. Fenik (1964:52–54) argues that these words “suit perfectly well the non-Iliadic versions” of events, those suggested by the scholia on 10.435 (see our commentary on that line) and that seen in the tragedy Rhesos, in which Athena has a more direct role in instigating the attack on Rhesos. We have seen, however, both that mētis is thematically central to ambush (see commentary on 10.19 and “The Poetics of Ambush”) and that Athena is associated with ambush tactics (see commentary on 10.460–464). Thus this phrase can be understood not literally but thematically. That is, the very fact that this is an ambush accounts for how Diomedes stands over Rhesos “through the scheme of Athena.” It need not be explained by means of another version in which Athena directly sent the Achaeans against Rhesos, even though we know such versions existed at some point in the tradition.

498. mvp-comment-197-1 10.498 ὁ τλήμων Ὀδυσεὺς For more on this epithet for Odysseus (and the whole phrase), see above on 10.231 and 10.248. Like πολύτλας, τλήμων is a distinctive epithet of Odysseus (see Parry MHV 92). As a traditional epithet, it describes Odysseus within the tradition as a whole. As a supreme ambusher both here and in other episodes, including his own epic, his endurance is a key characteristic.

500-501. mvp-comment-198-1 10.500–501 Diomedes specifically chooses Odysseus as his ambush partner for his noos, his ability to perceive important things (see commentary on 10.224–226 and 10.247), and we have seen that Odysseus does just that earlier in the episode, when he is the first to notice Dolon (see commentary on 10.339). So why does he not notice the whip, which seems to be apparent ( φαεινήν)? Is this detail an indication that Odysseus simply ignored the chariot altogether (see below on 10.503 and 10.513–514)? Does it reflect the hurried nature of the ambush attack: even a perceptive warrior like Odysseus may simply use what is nearest at hand? Or does the theme call for an employment of the bow he brought on the mission? (On the bow and the connection between archery and the ambush theme, see “The Poetics of Ambush.”) It is difficult to know if any or all of these possible factors lie behind this detail because we have such limited evidence for the ambush theme, but it does create a vivid visual image of the “getaway” that begins here.

502. mvp-comment-199-1 10.502 ῥοίζησεν The A scholia explain that this verb means to “make a nonverbal sound, which we call συρίζειν,” a verb that means to whistle or hiss. Compare the related noun at Odyssey 9.315: πολλῇ δὲ ῥοίζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα (“With much whistling (?), he [the Cyclops] was turning his fat flocks to the mountain”). At Hesiod Theogony 835, ῥοιζέω is used of the monstrous Typhoeus, and because this monster has snakes as part of his body, ῥοιζέω is generally assumed to mean ‘hiss’. Both this verb and that to which the scholia compare it seem to include both meanings, and we can understand both as sounds the mouth makes by moving air through the teeth and/or lips. So whichever sound we imagine Odysseus making here, the key for the poetics of ambush is that it is a single, quiet, nonverbal sound, lest the other sleeping Thracians awaken before he and Diomedes make their getaway.

503. mvp-comment-200-1 10.503 μερμήριξε A type scene in which two options are pondered appears numerous times in both the Iliad and the Odyssey, and this verb is a signal of that traditional scene (see also Arend 1933:106–115 for this type scene). Some of these type scenes involve ambush, as here: Odysseus ponders several times how to ambush and slaughter the suitors ( Odyssey 16.237, 16.256, 16.261, 19.2 = 19.52, 20.10, 20.28, 20.38, 20.41), while Phemios ponders during that ambush whether to try to escape or to supplicate Odysseus ( Odyssey 22.333). Aegisthus is also “pondering hideous things” ( ἀεικέα μερμηρίζων, Odyssey 4.533) when he plans his ambush of Agamemnon. In addition, although these episodes are not strictly ambush themes, we find such “pondering” involved prior to plans to deceive, such as Zeus’ sending the deceptive dream to Agamemnon ( Iliad 2.3), Hera’s seduction of Zeus ( Iliad 14.159), Penelope’s “trick” ( dolos) against the suitors ( Odyssey 2.93, Odyssey 24.128), and Odysseus’ deception of his father about his identity ( Odyssey 24.235).

503. mvp-comment-200-2 10.503 κύντατον This superlative adjective is found only here in the Homeric epics, but we should note that thirty manuscripts, according to Allen, have the comparative κύντερον instead, as does p425. Other uses of the comparative in the Iliad and Odyssey describe situations of suffering loss and perhaps also attempting to avenge it: it is used of Hera when she wants to defy Zeus and help the Achaeans in the war ( Iliad 8.483); of Clytemnestra, who kills her husband Agamemnon and avenges her daughter’s death ( Odyssey 11.427); of the insistence of a hungry belly, overriding all other concerns ( Odyssey 7.216); and of the day that the Cyclops eats Odysseus’ men ( Odyssey 20.18). We can also compare its uses in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, where the year during which Demeter is withdrawn is called κύντατον ( Homeric Hymn to Demeter 306) and her grief is κύντερον ( Homeric Hymn to Demeter 90). With this underlying notion of loss and grief connected to possible revenge as part of the traditional resonance of the word, in this line it may possibly allude to the version of the story of Rhesos in which he fights at Troy for one day and inflicts such huge damages on the Achaeans that Diomedes and Odysseus are sent to assassinate him at night (see “Tradition and Reception” for a full discussion of the variations of his story). Considering that version, Diomedes’ actions and his thoughts about further actions could be understood as fueled by grief over the loss of his comrades and as amounting to vengeance for them. The “need” on this night for action is similarly motivated by the Achaean losses earlier that day.

504-505. mvp-comment-201-1 10.504–505 Vermeule notes that these lines had at one time been taken as evidence of the “lateness” of the Doloneia, but that Spruytte’s (1977) reconstruction of a Bronze Age chariot shows that it could indeed “be lifted by any healthy man, and conventional thinking on the Doloneia must be rethought, with hundreds of other conventions” (Vermuele 1986:83). See also Littauer and Crouwel 1983 on Bronze Age chariots. If Diomedes does choose to take the chariot, whether by the pole or by picking it up, he presumably does so in order to move it to where Odysseus has led the horses so they can tie the horses to the chariot for the getaway (see also below on 10.513–514). But such a supposition makes it seem as though Odysseus, at least, did not take the chariot when he took the horses from where they had been tied to it (facing it, it seems, rather than in a position to pull it, at 10.475, or else why untie them?).

507. mvp-comment-202-1 10.507 ἕως ὃ ταῦθ᾽ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα, τόφρα δ᾽ Ἀθήνη This line is formulaically similar to the first four feet of Iliad 1.193 and the last two feet of Iliad 1.194 ( ἧος ὃ ταῦθ’ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν, / ἕλκετο δ’ ἐκ κολεοῖο μέγα ξίφος, ἦλθε δ’ Ἀθήνη) and thus may be considered a slightly more compressed version of Athena’s appearance to a hero who is deciding on a course of action. This is a more specific form of the type scene of “pondering options” (see 10.503) and scenes in which a decision must be made between two options, of which there are several examples in the Iliad and Odyssey. We can compare also Iliad 5.671 ( μερμήριξε δ’ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν) where it is Odysseus who is divided and then Athena directs his thumos. Stagakis (1986:237–239) argues that the situation here is parallel to that in Iliad 1, when Athena appears to a pondering Achilles and offers an option different from the two the hero had been contemplating. Just as Athena’s suggestion to Achilles to insult Agamemnon with words ( Iliad 1.211) is related to his previously considered option of checking his fury ( Iliad 1.192), so also may Athena’s command to remember their nostos here be related to the previously considered option of taking the chariot, if we understand that Diomedes does take the chariot for their getaway. For more on Athena’s role in this ambush, see our commentary on 10.285, 10.482, and 10.497.

509. mvp-comment-203-1 10.509 νόστου δὴ μνῆσαι We have seen (in “The Poetics of Ambush” and the commentary on 10.211–212 and 10.247) that the mission Diomedes and Odysseus undertake has thematic language in common with journeys, and with homecomings in particular. Thus the word nostos here has a thematic significance. In order for the spying mission, now turned ambush, to be fully successful, Diomedes and Odysseus will have to get back safely to the Achaean ships, which is what Athena reminds Diomedes of here. In the polemos, a warrior might be mindful of his battle lust (some form of μιμνήσκω + χάρμης, Iliad 4.222, 8.252, 13.721–722, 15.380, 15.477, 19.148) or his furious resolve to stand his ground ( μιμνήσκω + θούριδος ἀλκῆς, Iliad 6.112, 8.174, 11.566, 15.487, 15.734, 16.270, 17.185). But in an ambush, the ambushers must be mindful of their return to their own comrades. Not surprisingly, being mindful of one’s nostos is seen more often in the Odyssey. At Odyssey 3.141–142, Nestor recalls how Menelaos bid all the Achaeans to be mindful of their homecoming as they were about to leave Troy. In a different phrasing, Odysseus’ men ask him to be mindful of his fatherland ( μιμνῄσκεο πατρίδος αἴης) specifically in the context of wanting to go home ( ἱκέσθαι οἶκον, Odyssey 10.472–474). And in the closest parallel to this language, Athena goes to Sparta to remind Telemakhos of his nostos and to urge him to return home ( νόστου ὑπομνήσουσα καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι, see Odyssey 15.1–3).

513-514. mvp-comment-204-1 10.513–514 One difficulty that has puzzled and divided commentators on Iliad 10 is the question of whether or not Odysseus and Diomedes do indeed take the chariot or whether they ride only the horses back to the Achaean camp. That ἵπποι is used in Homeric diction for both “horses” and “horses and chariot” adds to the confusion here. We have seen Odysseus untie the horses from the chariot rail and tie them together (10.498–499, see 10.475 for where the horses had been tied). We have also seen Diomedes contemplate taking the chariot (10.504–505). But did he take it? Leaf’s comment on 10.513 in his first edition (1886) says that ἵππων must mean the horses and chariot, because of the plural and because horseback riding happens only in similes, never in narrative in Homeric epic. In his reasoning, the option of killing more Thracians that Diomedes had been pondering is forbidden by Athena’s injunction to leave, and so, by default, the first option of taking the chariot has been followed. In his second edition (1900–1902), however, Leaf says that a general view of the passage leads to the conclusion that the heroes ride the horses themselves, and that this riding is “among the marks of lateness in this book.” Shewan (1911:180) notes that there is no consensus on whether they ride or drive, but argues that riding would not prove Iliad 10 to be late. He says that he first thought they ride the horses, but is now convinced that they drive the chariot (1911:274). He goes on to consider the phrase ἵππων ἐπεβήσετο and other details of the episode as well as arguments for and against either the riding of the horses or the taking of the chariot (1911:274–278).

513-514. mvp-comment-204-2 These questions and disputes continue in more recent examinations of the passage. Anderson (1975), writing about chariot use in the Iliad, argues that Diomedes and Odysseus are riding horseback even though the poet uses formulas (like the verb ἐπιβαίνω here) that elsewhere are used for chariot driving. Because chariot driving is more common in the epics, “[t]he poet therefore had no ready-made set of formulae to describe riding when the need arose” (Anderson 1975:182). Although Odysseus seems throughout the episode to control both horses, as a driver would, Anderson cites a ninth-century Assyrian visual image that represents a warrior and attendant mounted on horses, and the attendant “seems to control both horses” (1975:183). Thus Anderson argues that the language used in this episode can be understood as horseback riding, and that horseback riding of this sort would have been known in the Bronze and early Iron Ages (1975:184), but his point is that any conclusion about either chariot driving or horseback riding in Homeric epic cannot be based on this one particular representation. Examining these same formulas, however, Stagakis (1985 and 1986) argues that they do seize the chariot and that they therefore drive the horses back. Hainsworth (1993:202–203) argues, as Anderson does, that the formulas are regularly used for chariot driving, but because the chariot is never mentioned again, we must assume that they are riding: “That we must imagine the heroes’ harnessing the horses to the chariot would imply an improbable ellipse after the detail of 498–502. Therefore the heroes do not take the chariot; they were after all in a hurry, and yoking a team of horses was not a simple operation, see 24.268–77” (Hainsworth 1993:203).

513-514. mvp-comment-204-3 The intense scrutiny to which these phrases have been subjected, as well as the changes in interpretation by individual scholars, demonstrates just how intractable the question of whether or not they take the chariot is. Although we cannot necessarily resolve the question by considering it within the theme of ambush, we can note that a cattle-rustling or horse-stealing theme, such as we see at Iliad 11.669–684, seems to involve taking the animals alone. Because the themes of ambush and horse-stealing are closely related, the latter may explain the emphasis on the horses alone (so too might the traditional importance of Rhesos’ horses, see commentary on 10.436–437), even if the chariot is imagined to be taken. If they do ride, not drive, then that fact, as Shewan and Anderson have argued, would not be a sign of the “lateness” of composition. Rather, riding may instead be a signal of the horse-stealing theme, seen elsewhere in the Iliad only in Nestor’s reminiscences.

515. mvp-comment-205-1 10.515 οὐδ᾽ ἀλαοσκοπιὴν εἶχ᾽ This phrase is used not of a human guard or spy, but always of a god in our texts. In addition to Apollo here, it is used of Poseidon twice ( Iliad 13.10 and 14.135), with different epithets completing the line, as he watches the battle so that he may help the Achaeans. In the Odyssey it is used of Ares, who (in the story sung by Demodokos) watches to see when Hephaistos leaves so that he can be with Aphrodite—but he then falls into Hephaistos’ trap. We can also compare the use of this formula at Hesiod Theogony 466, where Kronos keeps a close watch on Rhea so that he can swallow their children as soon as they are born. These last two stories have affinities with the ambush theme, and we can note that, in the cases of both Ares and Kronos, they are the ones who eventually become the victims of an ambush. Those examples may help us to understand the use of the formula with Apollo here, since at first glance it seems odd that he is characterized as not keeping a negligent watch when the Thracians have just been slaughtered. We can also perhaps understand it better by comparing it to Poseidon’s role in helping the Achaeans while they are losing badly: his watch comprises seeing what disaster is befalling them (and then helping them), not preventing it entirely.