Agamemnon's apology , in particular that portion which relates the story of Zeus and Ate, contains a number of oddities and peculiarities. This was recognised in antiquity, as various remarks in the Homeric scholia testify. Further inconcinnities have been unearthed by more recent scholars, who by and large belonged to the school of Homeric analysts. Although the presuppositions of this school are now generally regarded as outmoded and inappropriate, we should not underestimate the services of the scholars who drew (...) the relevant unique features to the world's attention. Ways of explaining the oddities may have changed, but the oddities themselves are still well worth considering. (shrink)

Williams’ discussion of dilemmas in his classic paper “Ethical consistency” famously focuses on an example that has not bothered commentators on and respondents to Williams as much as it should have bothered them: the example of Agamemnon in Aeschylus’ play. In this paper I try to pick apart what Williams wants to say from what is really going on in the text that he unfortunately chooses for his example. I compare with Williams’ discussion of Agamemnon four other commentators (...) on this crucial passage in Aeschylus’ play: Plato, Socrates, Aristotle—and Bernard Williams’ Greats tutor Eduard Fraenkel, whose epochal Corpus Christi seminars on the play Williams attended (along with Iris Murdoch, Hugh Lloyd Jones, and other rising stars of the time). I shall argue that these commentators led Williams astray. They are surprisingly prone to the same flaws of rationalism, impersonality, and moralism in making sense of Aeschylus’ extraordinarily subtle and brilliant depiction of Agamemnon; and Williams’ discussion inherits these flaws. This is an obviously ironic fact, especially given that a very fruitful reading of the passage—one that I think makes much better sense of what Aeschylus actually says—points a deeply Williamsian moral. It takes Agamemnon at Aulis as a study of a key step in the corruption of a character, a study that gets its power and its horror from its ability to show us how that process looks _from Agamemnon’s own viewpoint._. (shrink)

Achilleus′ speeches and action in Iliad 24 ‘complete a development of character-or better, enlargement of experience and comprehension-which stretches through the whole poem’. I largely agree with this statement, but since I also believe that an ‘enlargement of experience and comprehension’ necessarily entails ‘ a development of character’, I do not hesitate, as its author does, to assert that Achilleus′ character develops, i.e., changes for the better, in the course of the Iliad. It is my purpose here to discuss one (...) of the ways in which his speeches in Book 24 are specifically designed to bring this out. I will also argue that it is precisely because his character changes for the better that the poem fits the Aristotelian concept of epic. Lastly, I will attempt to refute Redfield's arguments in support of his opinion that Achilleus does not change in the course of the story. (shrink)

n the first of his three magisterial articles on the Agamemnon H. L. Ahrens showed that all the evidence then available best fitted the conclusion that τται derived from τνω and not from τω. Subsequently Ed. Fraenkel in his own note on the word reviewed and supplemented the evidence gathered by Ahrens, and expressed the view that Ahrens' ‘discussion, details apart, is final’; and there seems to be widespread agreement that on the linguistic side at least Ahrens' argument cannot (...) be refuted. If this means anything, it means that the sense of the word cannot be ‘unhonoured’ or ‘dishonoured’. Yet Denniston–Page in their commentary say that ‘”unhonoured” seems the only possible sense here’, and R. Fagles' recent translation, which generally rests on sound scholarship as well as poetic gifts, has ‘dishonored’. The principal reason for this persistent disagreement seems to be that the sense proposed by Ahrens for τται has been thought to have rather less plausibility than the linguistic considerations that appear to lead to it. (shrink)

Tr.: ‘Zeus, whoe'er he be, if so to be called is pleasing to him, thus do I name him—I have naught, when I weigh all things in the balance, to count their equal, save Zeus if it behoves me to strike truly this vain burden born of anxiet ‘He that at the outset was great, flourishing with all-conquering boldness, will not stay to accomplish anything; he, as soon as he was born, met his conqueror and is gone. But a man (...) who willingly hails Zeua as victor will achieve wisdom in full measure—. (shrink)

Tr.: If I were to tell of suffering and bad billets, of scanty provisions ill set-out—but what was there we did not complain of when we did not get the day's ration? But, as for the dry ground, there was an even greater abomination in that; for our beds were close to the enemy's walls—for from heaven and earth they drenched us with the moisture of meadows, a constant affliction, making the wool of our cloaks foul.

As is well known, many editors, following Valckenaer, reject the bracketed line altogether; but the omission leaves the opening clause with a very unsatisfactory ending. μπρέποντας αίθέρι, heavily stressed by its position, seems to form little less than an anticlimax, unless we assume that the stars could hardly be expected to shine in the sky. On the other hand, when line 7 is added, έμπρέποντας αίθέρ στέρας brings out clearly the fact that only certain conspicuous stars or constellations are meant—those (...) which serve as guides to the operations of agriculture and navigation, such as the Pleiades, Arcturus, and Orion, as we may see from Hesiod, Op. 609 onwards. (shrink)

All is set for the Greeks' departure from Troy. As I understand the scene, the rowers have their oars strapped to their hands and are eager to start. A warning flare now shines out from the regia ratis and the actual signal to start is given by a trumpet-blast, either rhetorically viewed as addressed to the thousand ships from the flagship or sounded on each at sight of the flare. The flagship then moves off and is followed by the fleet. (...) Cf. the related passage, Tro. 1044–6 ‘cum tuba iussi dare uela nautae | et simul uentis properante remo | prenderint altum’.428 laetum was conjectured by Leo in view of the difficulty of reconciling lentum, which would normally mean ‘listless’ or ‘sluggish’, and properanti in 426 ; note too 437 ff. ‘properat iuuentus omnis adductos simul | lentare remos…’ and the expression properante remo in Tro. 1045. The simple correction laetum would appear both to remove the difficulty and to be entirely appropriate. Yet, though accepted by Peiper-Richter and Herrmann, laetum has come in for resistance: it is rejected by Moricca, Viansino, Giardina, and Tarrant. In defence of lentum Viansino compares Medea 623 portibus lentis, in which I find no relevance; F. Giancotti interprets that the men in their impatience to be off appear lenti to themselves; Tarrant renders ‘slow to respond’, explaining ‘the rowing of the men is uncoordinated after ten years' lack of practice’, but in 428 the rowing has not yet started, and note the harmony indicated in 437–9. lentum is alien to Seneca's spirited picture and seems to me indefensible; laetum, on the other hand, is both attractive in itself and supported by significant evidence, which I have not seen adduced. (shrink)

All is set for the Greeks' departure from Troy. As I understand the scene, the rowers have their oars strapped to their hands and are eager to start. A warning flare now shines out from the regia ratis and the actual signal to start is given by a trumpet-blast, either rhetorically viewed as addressed to the thousand ships from the flagship or sounded on each at sight of the flare. The flagship then moves off and is followed by the fleet. (...) Cf. the related passage, Tro. 1044–6 ‘cum tuba iussi dare uela nautae | et simul uentis properante remo | prenderint altum’.428 laetum was conjectured by Leo in view of the difficulty of reconciling lentum, which would normally mean ‘listless’ or ‘sluggish’, and properanti in 426 ; note too 437 ff. ‘properat iuuentus omnis adductos simul | lentare remos…’ and the expression properante remo in Tro. 1045. The simple correction laetum would appear both to remove the difficulty and to be entirely appropriate. Yet, though accepted by Peiper-Richter and Herrmann, laetum has come in for resistance: it is rejected by Moricca, Viansino, Giardina, and Tarrant. In defence of lentum Viansino compares Medea 623 portibus lentis, in which I find no relevance; F. Giancotti interprets that the men in their impatience to be off appear lenti to themselves; Tarrant renders ‘slow to respond’, explaining ‘the rowing of the men is uncoordinated after ten years' lack of practice’, but in 428 the rowing has not yet started, and note the harmony indicated in 437–9. lentum is alien to Seneca's spirited picture and seems to me indefensible; laetum, on the other hand, is both attractive in itself and supported by significant evidence, which I have not seen adduced. (shrink)

When the death-cry of Agamemnon is heard, the Chorus talks, but does nothing. This is the locus classicus of a Chorus which, in a situation that seems to demand effective intervention, is debarred from intervening by the necessity of remaining a Chorus. Did Aeschylus and his audience feel a difficulty here? No, says Professor G. Thomson; it is merely that modern taste is influenced by ‘the crude realism of the Elizabethan drama’. But this will not do, for it is (...) Aeschylus himself, through the Chorus, who raises the issue of their entering or not entering the palace, which they discuss in the most realistic way. Assuming that a technical difficulty exists, with what skill and success did the dramatist handle it? Criticism has on the whole been adverse. (shrink)

After these words begins Cassandra's long, halting movement into the house and towards her death.

These lines of Cassandra's speech, as given in the MSS., run thus: νεν τ' παρχος λίου τ' ναστάτης οκ οδεν οα γλσσα μισητς κυνς λέξασα κα κτείνασα αιδρνους, δίκην της λαθραίου, τεξεται κακ τχ. τοιάδε τολμ· θλυς ρσενος ονες στιν.

‘A sweet life without lamentation’ renders Mr G. Thomson, who discusses the passage in C.Q. XXVIII 74 f. That is beyond question what this Greek will naturally and properly mean; if there were any doubt, his citations dispel it.

Cassandra speaking.The first of these lines is not in dispute; the three which follow are notorious; they are subjoined as in the manuscripts, with punctuation to mark the ostensible construction:ε δ ἔπαρχος Ίλίοʊ τ άναστάτηςούκ οἶδεν οἶδ уλσσα μισητς κʊѵòςλέξασα καì κτείνασα ϕαιδρόνοʊς, δίκηνἄτης λαθραίοʋ τεύξεται κακῇ τύχῃ.

‘A sweet life without lamentation’ renders Mr G. Thomson, who discusses the passage in C.Q. XXVIII 74 f. That is beyond question what this Greek will naturally and properly mean; if there were any doubt, his citations dispel it.