Source: https://chs.harvard.edu/CHS/article/display/6208.ii-5-particles-and-anaphoric-reference-a-discourse-perspective-on-particles-with-third-person-pronouns
Timestamp: 2019-04-22 18:43:51+00:00

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§1. In ancient Greek, pronouns and particles have a special relationship: the two are often found together and intrinsically connected. They are not only frequently adjacent, but they work together to guide the discourse, and may even form a single unit. II.2 demonstrates how the Homeric and Pindaric performers produce their discourse piecemeal, each piece adding a bit of information to the preceding. As a speaker focuses on the ideas in her mind she verbalizes her words according to the flow of her thoughts, and in the form of discourse acts. Chafe argues that only one new idea can be in focus in the mind at one time.  This is reflected in the form and content that discourse acts take: established knowledge tends to appear towards the beginning of the act and new information tends to follow.  Because anaphoric pronouns recall referents that are already in the hearer’s mind, they must appear within the body of established, given knowledge (more on “given” below) in order to be effective.
§2. Anaphoric reference directs attention to a referent about which something new will be added, and pronouns are the prototypical markers of anaphoric reference. Combinations or clusters of pronouns and particles are not used randomly; a deeper understanding of the pronoun illuminates the workings of the particle and vice versa. Only by comparing a larger number of instances of different collocations can it become clear that there are significant and consistent differences between them. The ideas established in the preceding chapters are relevant to the role that particles play in guiding reference. In particular the distinction between framed and unframed discourse (II.4) provides an important analytical tool for the study of anaphoric pronouns in Homer and Pindar.
§3. In this chapter I examine how the use of different particles interacts with different nuances of anaphoric reference. In order to understand these nuances it is first necessary to arrive at a good understanding of how anaphora works, both inside and outside the text. In the first section (5.1) I outline recent approaches that interpret the process of anaphoric reference as an interaction between a speaker and hearer rather than as a set of immanent relations between textual constituents. In the next section (5.2) I address the peculiar place of the nominative pronoun in a pro-drop language like Greek. Moreover, I discuss the ambiguous function of ὁ and ὅς as both demonstrative and relative pronouns. After addressing these issues, I present a representative case study (5.3) of combinations of the most frequent third-person pronoun in the nominative (ὅς and ὁ) and different particles in Homeric narrative: ὁ δέ, ὅ γε, ὁ δ᾽ἄρα, ὅ/ὅς ῥα, and ὁ/ὃς δή.  The analysis aims to show that the combinations have consistently and significantly different functions, depending on the particle used.  I do not engage in particular with pronouns (and particles) at the beginning of embedded narratives, but this theme has been studied extensively for both Homer and Pindar.  The final section (5.4) traces anaphoric reference through an entire Pindaric ode: Isthmian 2. In this close reading, I consider not only pronouns and particles, but also nouns and verb forms, to sketch a picture of the audience’s on-line processing of anaphoric reference.
Cornish’s description points to the importance of the cognitive processes involved in the production and processing of discourse. The textual antecedent problem is one of the factors that have led to a cognitive approach to reference.
It is important to be aware that the labels of “given” and “new” in this framework do not relate to the status of the referent in the speaker or hearer’s knowledge. In fact, (t3) reads most naturally when we assume that both speaker and hearer know who “Sam” refers to. The newness or givenness is rather a status relative to the ongoing discourse, which has led people to prefer the terms discourse-old and discourse-new. However, even this terminology is insufficient for explaining the forms of referential expressions used in naturally occurring discourse. Most obviously problematic are referents that are introduced into the discourse, then not mentioned for a certain span of text, and then retrieved. Although they are discourse-old (i.e. “given”), they cannot generally be retrieved by an unaccented pronoun.
What all authors agree on  is that anaphora is not to be understood as a relation between a referential expression and its antecedent in the co-text, but as an instruction to the hearer to focus on a certain referent in his discourse model. It is not primarily a process of verbal memory, but of cognitive focus within the mental representation of discourse.  As a result, the accessibility of a referent is its status in the current representation of the discourse: regardless of whether it has been mentioned before and how long ago, the referent’s current status as more or less in focus determines the anaphoric expression used.
at the lower belly, and right through he drove the bronze.
In English we find the unaccented personal pronoun “he,” where in Greek we find the equivalent least marked reference, null anaphor, within the third-person singular verb (δούπησεν). Despite the change of grammatical subject (from Hector to Patroclus), the lack of an expressed new subject does not lead to confusion, for three reasons. First, the semantics of πεσών makes Patroclus the logical subject, since he has just been wounded. Second, δούπησεν δὲ πεσών is a formula that always refers to the stricken hero, so the audience’s knowledge of epic will prevent any potential ambiguity of reference.  Third, the form of the formula in itself suggests that not just “the referent Patroclus” is in focus, but the entire image of his fall. The finite verb does not strictly refer to the noise Patroclus makes, but to that of his armor and weapons.  The Homeric performer can present this complete, synaesthetic image, since from the moment that he is stabbed and wounded (line 821), Patroclus is in focus in the mind’s eye. It is the idea of “focus” that explains the two examples above: in both cases the mind’s eye inevitably moves to the recipient of the attack, putting them in mental focus, and thus making them accessible.  In earlier work, Chafe speaks of the “subject of consciousness” in terms of attention, “the mechanism by which the spotlight of consciousness is directed at one or another area of the material accessible to the mind.”  A higher accessibility leads to a lower “activation cost,” in Chafe’s terms, which in turn translates to a less specific referring expression.  The focus of the mind’s eye is an important factor in the process of anaphoric reference. It is especially relevant in passive constructions, where there is a clear distinction between subject/object and patient/agent. In Homer and Pindar, moreover, the grammatical subject can be a part of the body or a hero’s weapon or armor, as it might be here, while the subject of consciousness always remains the character (see also t13 below).
§10. In the field of ancient Greek literature, Bakker and Bonifazi have applied the cognitive approach to examine anaphoric reference in several works. Bakker has applied Chafe’s ideas on activation cost to expressions of anaphoric reference in Homeric epic.  Expanding on Bakker’s work, Bonifazi further has addressed the need for a cognitive perspective on anaphoric reference in ancient Greek literature more generally. She has argued that accessibility or activation cost does not sufficiently account for all forms of anaphoric reference, especially in literature.  Her study focuses on αὐτός and (ἐ)κεῖνος, but her brief analysis of anaphoric reference in the first ten lines of the Odyssey points the way for further research.  The present chapter builds on the work of Bakker and Bonifazi, applying the cognitive perspective particularly to third-person demonstrative pronouns in the nominative (ὁ and ὅς) followed by particles.
§11. In order to establish similarities and differences between the possible clusters of pronoun and particle I will take retrieval of a singular masculine referent in the nominative as the basic material. In the ongoing narrative, the Homeric performer constantly manages the relevant referents in multiple ways. Frequently, as in (t9) above, a verb form suffices to successfully select the correct referent in the discourse model. In this chapter I have chosen to focus on lexical items that serve specifically to retrieve referents: pronouns.
§12. Such lexical items still cover a wide range of words, including αὐτός, ἐγώ, σύ, μίν, ἑ, τοι, οὗτος, κεῖνος,  ὅδε, ὅς, and ὁ. The lexical item most frequently used to retrieve referents in a narrative is the anaphoric third-person pronoun referring to a character. Within this category, ὅς  and ὁ  give the lightest marking short of a verb form only (null anaphor). Because these forms are by far the most frequent, and are commonly accompanied by particles, they form the core material for my comparative study. Finally, I focus on the nominative rather than the oblique cases because the nominative form is often syntactically superfluous. After all, in a pro-drop language like ancient Greek the grammatical subject is encoded in the verb form. That is to say, ὁ is not equivalent to τόν in referential terms, since the former may in the right context be elided, while the latter is more often indispensable.  Although I do not focus on the oblique forms of the anaphoric pronoun, I discuss a small number of instances, mostly in the footnotes.
70 who knew what was, what would be, and what had been.
115 her husband, and he devised for them woeful destruction.
Here, Murray prefers to read the pronoun as demonstrative (rather than relative), and translates accordingly. In the language there is no formal distinction between the two possible readings of the pronoun, which suggests that Murray was guided by the context.
§14. In (t11) one reason for translating ὅς as “he” rather than “who” is the fact that it constitutes a narrative transition. The act following the mention of the husband (ὃν πόσιν) is not so much a description of this new referent – as might be expected in a relative clause – but rather an act introducing a new event, with the freshly introduced husband as the grammatical subject.  The fact that in (t11) an aorist (ἐμήσατο) follows the pronoun, whereas in (t10) it is a pluperfect (ᾔδη), standing in for the imperfect of οἶδα, contributes to this reading.  On a macrolevel the δή act in (t11) marks the beginning of a new scene within the narrative, which leads to Odysseus’ departure from the island of the Laestrygones. In discourse terms, ὅς in (t10) introduces an act that is unframed (the performer informs us about the character Kalchas), while ὃς δή in (t11) introduces a framed act, a continuation of the narrative.  This distinction may (unconsciously) play an important part in decisions of editors, regarding punctuation, and of translators.
§18. Τhe following discussion of ὁ/ὅς + particle combinations focuses on the pragmatic functions of the acts they introduce. It is from the pragmatic perspective that the particles’ force can be understood, and a comparative study shows that the speaker’s choice for one particle over another is rarely arbitrary. I first explore the combination ὁ δέ (and ὃς δέ) since it is one of the most common combinations, and has come to be associated with the very specific grammatical function of marking subject change. Our analysis aims to separate the different contributions of the two elements (pronoun and particle) in order to come to a better understanding of the whole in its many contexts. Subsequently I turn to the other extremely frequent collocation ὅ γε, which has also received some attention in the literature, in this case as a marker of subject continuity. As with ὁ δέ, the reality in Homer is more complex, but unlike ὁ δέ the combination ὅ γε appears to be working as a cluster.  After these frequent and known combinations, I turn to those pronoun and particle combinations that generally go undiscussed, but are in fact crucial in guiding the narrative: ὁ δ᾽ἄρα, ὅ(ς) ῥα, and ὁ(ς) δή.
§20. There is more to be said about the combination and its relation to referential continuity or discontinuity. Janko writes that ὁ δέ “normally marks a change of grammatical subject.”  His claim is often true, especially after Homer, but it does not address the question of why ὁ δέ serves this purpose so well. In the combination ὁ δέ in Homer, the lightly emphatic pronoun invites the audience to find a reason for the emphasis – often a change of grammatical subject – whereas δέ simply marks the progress of the discourse.
and driving it everywhere, the wind whirls the flame about.
driving on his victims. And the black earth ran with blood.
and soon they are threshed out under the loud-bellowing bulls’ feet.
Peleus’ son, and with gore were spattered his invincible hands.
The audience cannot but picture the scene of Achilles tearing through the enemy ranks like a forest fire spurred on by the wind, trampling their bodies like grain on a threshing floor. In the final lines the narrator sketches an image of Achilles triumphant on a chariot spattered with blood, riding over the bodies of his adversaries. Although he has not been the grammatical subject over the last eight lines, and has not been named in four lines, ὁ δέ suffices to restore Achilles as grammatical subject in 502. The images evoked are strong, but unlike some other similes they apply readily to the current situation on the battlefield. In 498 the horses are the subject (ἵπποι) and the axle (ἄξων) in 499, but Achilles is constantly at the forefront of our mind, literally in the center of the image, in focus. As in the case of Jason below (t32), ὁ in 502 does not just retrieve “Achilles” but it retrieves the raging and bloody Achilles that has just been created in the mental representation of the discourse.
After the first plural form περισχόμεθα, the singular verb form ᾤκει suffices to avoid ambiguity. It might seem all the more surprising, then, that the pronoun is used in the following act, even though there is total continuity of grammatical subject.
§23. An explanation for this overdetermination is readily available after the discussion of framed and unframed discourse in II.4. Both the imperfect tense of ᾤκει  and the particle γάρ suggest that the move in lines 200-201 is different from its surroundings. It is in fact a little piece of unframed discourse, where the performer turns to the audience and offers some information needed in order to understand the ongoing action in the narrative. In cognitive terms, the act starting with ᾤκει γάρ does not create the image of Maro in any kind of activity, but rather of his house in a sacred grove. The retrieval of Maro after that is therefore more fraught.  As we return to the contextual frame of the action, the pronoun (ὁ) turns attention from Maro “living in a grove” to Maro as he is in the embedded narrative, having just been saved by Odysseus and his men.
320 and he reached where Aeneas and glorious Achilles were.
In this passage ὁ δέ is problematic, since it would most naturally establish Achilles as the grammatical subject of the new act, instead of continuing to refer to Poseidon as it actually does. This apparent mismatch may have been Aristarchus’ reason for athetizing lines 322-324, since taking out these lines creates an attractive symmetry between τῷ μέν (sc. Achilles, 321) and Αἰνείαν δέ (325).  As we follow the reading of the manuscripts and editions, however, this requires an explanation. In II.2.5 we devote some attention to small fronted acts that serve to guide the mind’s eye of the audience. These priming acts take the form of a referential expression + a particle (often δέ), and are followed by some performative discontinuity. Even though nothing linguistically suggests that there is a boundary after δέ (the accusative that follows seems in no way to be independent), the manuscripts suggest that some kind of discontinuity was assumed after ὁ δέ.  Here, the reason for such a discourse act is not obvious, but the motivation may be visual. After his arrival Poseidon sheds mist over Achilles’ eyes, which leads the mind’s eye to focus on Achilles. The expectation of the audience might have been that focus and agency stayed with Achilles, but in fact the scene moves back to Poseidon with ὁ δέ (322). The god then first enacts a ritual return of the spear to the hero, after which he performs a truly awesome deed: he throws Aeneas over the entire army to the other side of the battlefield. The scene is climactic and highly vivid,  and the use of the pronoun rather than a null anaphor may serve to prepare for the upcoming image that has Poseidon as its center.
Here and in the parallels, the sense of the act introduced by ὁ δέ is gnomic.  In all cases I read the first part of the thought as a copulative construction with ἐστί left out, which means that ὁ must be read as a demonstrative pronoun rather than as an article. Because in this context ὁ δέ introduces a gnṓmē – unframed, generalizing discourse – there is always a change of grammatical subject. However, in gnômai the referent of ὁ can be ambiguous; either it can be the indefinite “he”, or it can be the main referent of the preceding discourse, often the victor.
§26. Examples (t14) and (t15) demonstrate that ὁ δέ may accompany continuity of grammatical subject, provided that there is some other reason for emphasizing the referent. The combination ὁ δέ in Homer and Pindar reflects the whole range of its constituent elements: ὁ/ὅς as a marked anaphoric expression, sometimes only lightly marked, sometimes almost deictic, and δέ as the marker of discourse progression, marking stronger boundaries in Pindar than in Homer.
§27. ὅ γε enjoys a special status among combinations of pronoun and particle: the LSJ, for example, specifically lists ὅ γε as a special construction under its discussion of ὁ. They describe the combination as follows: “Pron. ὁ, ἡ, τό made slightly (if at all) more emphatic by the addition of γε.”  This description of the function of γε exemplifies most scholarship on the particle, and it covers well the sense that is common to most instances of the particle. Denniston discusses γε in terms of “concentration,” which leads to the two further functions of marking limitation and intensification.  About γε after pronouns, Denniston says the following: “Naturally, in many cases γε is limitative: but in many others it is determinative: often it seems to be otiose, the pronoun apparently requiring no stress, or at most a secondary stress.”  By limitative, Denniston means that γε marks its host word (group) as the thing that the current claim holds true for at least; “determinative” fits his idea of “concentration,” and what other scholars (and the LSJ) describe as “emphatic”; “otiose” appears to mean redundant.
§28. As we shall see, the limitative function of γε (as described by Denniston) does not emerge from the cluster ὅ γε, and yet the particle is clearly not redundant. Rather, γε in ὅ γε mainly lends emphasis, but this idea needs refinement. What does it mean for a particle to make a pronoun (and specifically ὁ) more emphatic? In the following section I demonstrate three things: (1) distributionally, ὁ and ὅ γε are complementary: they occur in mutually exclusive positions in the act and the verse; (2) functionally, ὅ γε serves to retrieve a referent of which some aspect has to be supplied through inference; (3) when ὅ γε appears in contexts where there is continuity of grammatical subject, several factors contribute to the choice of ὅ γε over a null anaphor, including frame switches and transitions between narrator text and direct speech.
§29. First consider the position of ὅ γε, which provides the clearest indication that we are dealing with a cluster rather than a combination. In the discussion above, I have taken ὁ as the equivalent of the accented pronoun in English. In its relative and anaphoric functions, the pronoun tends to occur in act-initial position in Homer. It is thus a statistical anomaly that ὅ γε never occurs in act-initial position. Of course, γε is more mobile than δέ, which means that it can occur later in the act as well as in peninitial position. However, the positional tendency of the pronoun would suggest that at least in some cases we would find ὅ γε at the start of a new act. For metrical reasons ὅ γε cannot occur at verse beginning, but this does not hold for οἵ γε, which still shares the same positional limitation: it never occurs at act or at verse beginning. That is to say, the nominative pronoun occurs in act-initial position, and γε occurs in peninitial position in the act, but ὅ γε as a combination is never act initial. This makes the combination different from the sum of its parts in a significant way, and therefore we shall treat ὅ γε as a cluster. If the positional limitations of the cluster differ from that of its components, the same may be possible for the cluster’s function. Unlike ὁ δέ, the function of ὅ γε may be more limited than the range of functions ὁ and γε have on their own.
The text illustrates neatly how problematic generalizations about ὁ δέ and ὅ γε in Homer are: ὅ γε in 190 marks change of grammatical subject from ἦτορ, “heart,” to Achilles, whereas ὁ δέ in 191 accompanies subject continuity.  The choice of the pronoun over null anaphor is expected in 190, since null anaphor would have led to the jarring image of the heart drawing a sword. In 191 the anaphoric pronoun serves to juxtapose the image of the assembly dispersing with the image of Achilles and Agamemnon staying and fighting. This explains the use of the pronoun in both instances, but the question remains what the function of γε is in ὅ γε.
§31. The reason for the addition of γε, although hard to determine, may have been prosodic: ὁ alone is more easily lost than ὁ followed by a clitic and at times a whole syllable.  However, this does not explain why we find γε instead of another enclitic, such as ῥα. Whatever the range of functions of ὅ γε when it is grammaticalized as a cluster, a particular function of γε must have led to the development of the cluster in the first place. Before moving on to more instances of ὅ γε in Homer, let us examine this question more closely.
§33. A number of scholars have attempted to adapt or refine the idea of γε as a focus particle. About γε in Aristophanes, Tsakmakis says: “γε is not a focalizer which can be indiscriminately attached to any element of the utterance (even if that is focalized), but it can only be attached to a word which coheres with the preceding utterance.”  About ὅ γε specifically, Bonifazi says: “γε gives prosodic and semantic prominence to ὁ.” This interpretation conflates two elements that are consecutive, I believe: γε does indeed give prosodic prominence to ὁ, and it is this prosodic prominence that leads to an interpretation of ὅ γε as in some way emphatic (“semantic prominence”). Then she argues that in ὅ γε, γε “emphasizes something relationally new about somebody referentially old.”  This claim requires some unpacking. If the “somebody referentially old” is the referent of the pronoun ὁ, then the “something relationally new” must be contained in the rest of the discourse act in which ὅ γε occurs. However, I believe that γε in ὅ γε has scope only over the pronoun, not over the entire act.
no, HE enjoys it and travels on, knowing more in fact.
ἀλλ’ ὅ γε σιγῇ δῶρα θεῶν ἔχοι, ὅττι διδοῖεν.
No may HE keep in silence the gifts of the gods, whatever they may have given.
and looking at his horses. With certainty I do not know if he is a god.
185 then HE does not rage like that without a god.
Before we look at the two instances of ὅ γε, consider the use of μιν in line 181. μιν is an unstressed (enclitic) third-person pronoun in the accusative that serves to retrieve accessible referents. Pandarus’ speech starts in line 180, and he has not mentioned the referent of μιν (“that man”) up to this point. However, in the preceding turn Aeneas has already pointed the man out (τῷδ᾽…ἀνδρί 174). The referent of the strong demonstrative ὅδε is the man they both see, and Pandarus retrieves him with the much less emphatic μιν, since by now he is well established in both their mental discourse models (as well as in that of performer and audience, of course).
§37. To better explain this passage, we must turn to the difference between anaphora and deixis. I follow Cornish’ definition of the terms, which can be explained simply: a speaker uses deixis when she wants to bring a referent into focus in the current discourse model, and anaphora when she retrieves one that is already accessible.  Just before (t20), Aeneas introduces “the man” into the conversation with the expression τῷδ᾽…ἀνδρί, “that man,” a combination of demonstrative pronoun and noun—this is deixis.  This same referent, who is still in the discourse context (i.e. visible) for the two interlocutors, is from that moment onward in focus in their discourse model, and can be referred to with the enclitic anaphoric pronoun μιν. Deixis is thus not inherently linked to a reference to something outside of the discourse: the crucial question is whether a referent is part of the current discourse model or not. In fact, both anaphora and deixis function outside the text, since they do not primarily interact with the preceding text but with the mental representation of the discourse.
§38. This brings us to ὅ γε in lines 184 and 185. The first ὅ γε refers again to “that man there,” who Pandarus is not quite sure is even human.  Pandarus speculates that it may be Diomedes, since the man seems to bear Diomedes’ shield. The following conditional clause shows that the referent is interactionally clear, but undetermined in textual terms: “If THAT ONE is the man I mean, the battle-minded son of Tydeus…”. Both interlocutors know who they are talking about, but his identity is unknown. Thus, ὅ γε refers to the entirety of Aeneas and Pandarus’ suppositions about the man, including the possibility that he is a god or that he is Diomedes. Finally comes the apodosis, with the second instance of ὅ γε. If ὅ γε in 184 refers to the man in the middle of the spectacle, ὅ γε in 185 no longer has the same referent, since an assumption underlies the utterance of line 185 that the man is indeed human and in fact Diomedes: “if THAT (ὅ γε) is Diomedes, then HE [sc. Diomedes] (ὅ γε) cannot be raging without divine help.” The second ὅ γε marks this discontinuity of reference in the mental representation of the discourse: it refers no longer to “that man” but to “that man, Diomedes.” The audience can follow this interaction only by taking into account the development of the referent in the mental representation of the discourse, and this inferential process is foregrounded through the use of ὅ γε.
μνηστήρων ἰότητι, | βίῃ δ’ ὅ γε φέρτερος ἦεν.
according to the will of the suitors: in might, HE was stronger.
The situation here is different from most preceding examples, since the two available referents have both been mentioned only in an oblique case. Neither a null anaphor nor a pronoun suffices to retrieve Irus or the stranger. In the earlier narrative, however, it was told that the “stranger” was indeed the stronger, and in fact the whole co-text suggests that the suitors backed Irus. As a result, the referential ambiguity is resolved by the time that φέρτερος was uttered.  There is yet another layer to this reference. In the mind of Telemachus, who is speaking, and in the minds of performer and audience, ὅ γε refers not to a stranger but to Odysseus. The reference means something different to the internal audience (Penelope and the suitors) than to the performer and his audience, and this layering has its effect on the content. Bonifazi has demonstrated convincingly that references to the disguised Odysseus are particularly sophisticated in this part of the Odyssey, and there is no doubt in my mind that this instance is another example of this complexity.  The performer uses ὅ γε because the referent – and the sense of Telemachus’ utterance – can only be grasped fully if the listener makes the necessary inferences. It may be surprising to Penelope and the suitors that the stranger beat Irus, but this is decidedly not the case for Telemachus or the audience: obviously Odysseus is stronger in might than the resident beggar of his own palace.
around him she threw a beautiful cloak, and a tunic.
and HE went next to Nestor, and sat down by the shepherd of men.
Let me tell you, HE does not know it clearly, do listen to my word.
the sons and grandsons of mighty Heracles.
until he makes you his concubine or HE makes you a slave.
§44. The previous examples all illustrate that some of the force of γε remains in the cluster ὅ γε. However, because ὅ γε functions as a cluster, the force of γε sometimes appears to be extremely weak or even lost. In those instances, ὅ γε looks like a formal and metrical variant of ὁ, a weak demonstrative with no further pragmatic enrichment. In the second book of the Iliad we are told the story of Agamemnon’s scepter, a piece of unframed discourse introduced just before the king starts to speak in the council.
He stood up holding the scepter, over which Hephaestus toiled to make it.
to rule over many islands and all of Argos.
The co-text is essentially the same as in (t27): a speaker is introduced, then follows a brief piece of unframed discourse (γάρ),  and finally a pronoun referring to the unframed discourse (τοῦ) and a second pronoun with γε, in the act that re-establishes the narrative frame.
Since this verse follows direct speech, subject continuity is implicit. It is not hard to see that in this construction ὅ γε serves to set up a light contrast between this speaker and the next.
§46. Immediately after direct speech is one context where ὅ γε consistently differs from ὁ δέ. While ὅ γε marks continuity of grammatical subject after direct speech, ὁ δέ marks subject change.  This difference can be explained from the constituent order of the two constructions. With ὅ γε, we find “X ὅ γε | participle | finite verb,” whereas with ὁ δέ we find “finite verb | ὁ δέ.” In the latter construction, null anaphor would have been the natural marker of subject continuity.
And there is my father’s throne, leant against that <pillar>.
On that HE sits and drinks his wine, like unto an immortal.
The reference to Alcinous here serves at once as the climax of the imagined entrance into the palace, and as the beginning of the long episode in which Alcinous and Odysseus are the main characters. At this crucial moment Alcinous is granted agency with some emphasis, which prepares the audience for his importance in the upcoming narrative.
right when he had noticed; still he did not forget the fight.
There is clear subject continuity from line 393 onward, yet after two verbs with null subjects (ἐνόησεν, λήθετο) we find ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε. There is a significant difference between the sense of the verbs before and after the pronoun and particle combination, marking the contrast between inaction and action.
§49. ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε consistently introduces a new action, often marking the beginning of a new scene. The verb in the negated act of the construction is generally a reflection of some inner state of the referent (he was not afraid),  a static verb (he did not stay),  or a forward-oriented statement (he did not fulfill).  What these verbs have in common is that they interrupt the action by explicitly considering and dismissing a counterfactual situation.  Pragmatic projection is inherent in the construction, since the assertion that someone did not do one thing suggests that he did do another. The onus of the construction, then, is on the second part, for which the first part serves as a foil. From this perspective, ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε works to resume the action, and this new beginning justifies the use of the pronoun even if the referent is already in focus. The occurrence of ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε even when there is apparent subject continuity can thus be explained because some kind of cognitive redirection is needed – suggested by ἀλλά – just before the occurrence of the cluster ὅ γε. The apparent overdetermination can be read as an attempt to bridge this gap and direct attention toward the right referent.
§51. In contrast to the flexible cluster ὅ γε, ἄρα only follows anaphoric pronouns in very limited contexts. In the present section, I first discuss the cluster ὁ δ᾽ ἄρ(α) in Pindar and Homer, which typically works as a marker of frame recall. Then follows an analysis of ὅ(ς) ῥ(α), a combination that can introduce two distinct constructions: either an unframed act with a verb in the imperfect tense, or a framed act with an aorist verb.
(…) of Orestes the Laconian guest.
35 went to his aged host, Strophius, living at the foot of Parnassus.
After a gnomic passage, a demonstrative pronoun and a full noun phrase serve to retrieve Agamemnon (αὐτὸς ἥρως Ἀτρεΐδας 31).  Although he had been mentioned in the oblique before (φονευομένου πατρός 17, σὺν Ἀγαμεμνονία 20), he had not yet been fully attended to, only mentioned as part of an event relevant to Orestes. Then Pindar narrates a selection of Agamemnon’s adventures in reverse: he elliptically retrieves the story of Agamemnon’s taking of Priam’s daughter Cassandra, and then bringing her to Mycenae where she too is killed by Clytaemnestra (in Pindar’s version, lines 19-21) with the four words μάντιν τ’ ὄλεσσε κόραν. The particle τε here, I submit, serves to mark the sharedness of this episode, and allows Pindar to waste no more words in telling it.  The mention of Agamemnon’s death activates the event of line 16 again in the hearer’s mind. This makes Orestes, who has not been named or even mentioned for seventeen lines, accessible enough to be referred to with ὁ. In the preceding lines Agamemnon has been the grammatical subject, so the pronoun suggests a change of subject; the only other available masculine singular referent is Orestes.  The possible ambiguity in the anaphoric expression is perhaps the reason for the apposition νέα κεφαλά in line 35,  since this can only refer to Orestes. This passage demonstrates that ἄρα functions on the level of the larger discourse or interaction rather than as a link between two contiguous clauses. In narrative terms, ἄρα recalls the frame of the main storyline: lines 32-34 function as a little flashback, told regressively, and δ᾽ ἄρα serves to re-activate the main narrative frame of Orestes’ story. At the same time ἄρα marks its host act, as well as the upcoming narrative, as a part of the tradition shared between Pindar and his audience.
did come, with two spears, a terrible man.
I read ἆρα rather than the ἦρα proposed by Schroeder and printed in most editions.  Braswell regards ἆρα as a prosodically enriched form of ἄρα, and I would add that it may be regarded as pragmatically enriched as well. Again, ὁ δ᾽ ἆρα marks the recall of the main narrative frame, after the explanation of the prophecy. The “one-sandaled man” of the prophecy is Jason, as Pindar’s audience would have known. What makes this instance different from (t31) is that here there is apparent continuity of grammatical subject, so the use of the nominative pronoun must be explained otherwise.
§55. In the three instances in Pindar, the combination δ᾽ ἄρα (or δ᾽ ἆρα) after pronouns serves to recall the main narrative frame. I read ἄρα as having scope over the entire act rather than just over the pronoun (I imagine prosodic emphasis as falling on the most important part of the clause, perhaps the verb phrase: “And so he DID come…”). Thus, ἄρα modifies the act by marking its contents as shared between performer and audience. In narrative terms, the acts introduced by ὁ δ᾽ ἄρα are always framed: they continue the action of the narrative.
fell down off the high wall, and life left his bones.
§58. The combination δ᾽ ἄρα thus introduces new framed events that feature a referent who is thought to be retrievable but not necessarily in focus at the moment of reference. When one removes δέ from the combination, what is lost is the sense of a discourse boundary. That is to say, whereas pronoun + δ᾽ ἄρα moves the narrative ahead, no such thing need be expected of pronoun + ἄρα. In ὅ(ς) ῥα the particle still marks its host act as shared between performer and audience, but the act itself need not necessarily be framed, nor need it move the narrative forward.
645 to Troy, and not again did he reach his fatherland.
ὅ(ς) ῥα introducing unframed discourse serves to recall little bits of information about the referent which the speaker expects to already be part of (or inferrable from) the discourse memory.  In line 643 the next assailant of Menelaus enters the scene, Harpalion son of Pylaemenes. After the name is stated in line 644 we find ὅ ῥα and a verb in the imperfect: the pronoun and particle introduce a piece of unframed discourse that consists of a flashback and a flash-forward. In this instance, one can just as well translate “Harpalion. He followed”; either way the act introduced by ὅ ῥα is unframed. Both the flashback and the flash-forward (οὐδ᾽…γαῖαν 645) are unframed discourse in the sense that the performer reveals his omniscience and informs the audience outside the frame. The use of ἄρα in unframed discourse marks a piece of knowledge from the discourse memory that is retrieved to become part of the current discourse model: it may be regarded as activating a piece of information in the long-term memory to become part of the working memory.
made him, by far best of mortals, since Amphiaraos died.
He had moved to Hyperesia, angry with his father.
255 Living there, he prophesied for all men.
who one day had moved to Doulichion, angry with his father.
It is clear that the resemblance between these two passages reaches beyond the repetition of the verb.  For the current purpose, it suffices to note that the information about Phyleus moving from Elis to Doulichion is necessary, yet clearly out of the current frame, as the use of ποτε confirms. I believe this justifies a similar reading of the passage from the Odyssey (t35): ὅς ῥα in line 254 introduces a piece of unframed discourse containing shared knowledge.  The passage preceding (t35) is a genealogy leading up to Polypheides and eventually his son, Theoclymenus. At this point in the genealogy, the family is in Argos, but it appears that the performer knows that Polypheides is connected to Hyperesia rather than to Argos. That would explain why he adds the line, with ὅς ῥα, to avoid a discrepancy between his performance and shared tradition.
§62. The combination ὅ(ς) ῥα thus serves two main purposes: (1) to introduce unframed discourse containing shared knowledge about a certain referent (accessing global discourse memory), and (2) to return to the frame after intervening unframed discourse of some sort (accessing local discourse memory). Moreover, there is a strong tendency for the performer to use the imperfect tense in unframed acts, and the aorist in framed acts.
§63. The combination ὁ δή/ὃς δή is not quite as flexible as ὅ(ς) ῥα. In II.3.3 I set out an analysis of the pragmatic functions of δή in Homer and Pindar. The particle is only used with a limited range of co-texts outside of direct speech: with temporal expressions, in certain combinations, and after pronouns. When used after pronouns, δή typically occurs in a relative clause.  The main functions of δή in early epic and lyric may be summarized as follows: (1) as a mobile (rare), it occurs in any position and has an intensifying force over the following word group, or else in act-initial position has scope over the entire act; (2) in peninitial position in the act, it generally has an intensifying force over the act it is in, or over the preceding word group, but it can sometimes have scope only over the following word group; (3) in narrator text, in peninitial position with a temporal marker of some sort, it marks larger narrative moves.
§65. Since both anaphoric and relative pronouns most commonly occur in initial position, there are no instances of act-initial δή with scope over the act (function (1) in the list above) in this construction.  There is a link between the position of δή in the act and the scope of the particle: when δή occurs in peninitial position, it typically has scope at the minimum over the entire act, whereas in any other position its scope is more restricted, over only the following word. I first consider the instances where δή appears to have act scope. Since ὁ and ὅς δή are always at act beginning, however, the fact that δή occurs in second position does not exclude the possibility of mobile δή. After a discussion of the instances of δή with act scope, I explore the possibility of small-scope δή in some borderline instances. Finally, I show that sometimes the intensifying function of δή reaches beyond the reported interaction between two characters (in direct speech), and touches instead upon the interaction between performer and audience.
Do you not hear Hector encouraging all his people?
He is fairly raging to raze the ships!
a greedy man, who had done very many evils to men.
220 who was by far the richest of mortal men.
who was by far the fairest of mortal men.
Aeneas’ intensified superlatives serve to strengthen his boast about his forefathers. The second of the two examples shows that the link between relative clauses introduced by δή and “new information” is relative. There can be no doubt that both the internal audience (Achilles) and the audience at the performance was expected to know that Ganymedes was the most beautiful man of all. However, the presence of δή here, rather than ἄρα or τε, presents the statement not so much as a foregone conclusion, but as an expression of a personal opinion, with a clear rhetorical goal.
κῆρυξ, | ὃς δὴ πρῶτος ἔπος σῇ μητρὶ ἔειπεν.
a herald, who as the very first gave word to your mother.
315 the godlike herald, rich in gold and rich in bronze.
And this guy – let me tell you – he was ugly of face, but quick of feet.
This is one of only two instances of δή τοι in narrator text, and one of the relatively few instances in Homer where τοι is clearly the particle rather than the dative second person pronoun. Just as in (t39), this piece of discourse introduces a character.  The difference is that the introduction here first mentions the father of the character in focus. The performer brings the attention back to Dolon with the priming act ὅς δή τοι.  The priming act also projects Dolon’s importance in the upcoming long episode (316-457).  The presence of the particle τοι especially suggests that there may be one more factor at work in this passage. It is as if the performer turns to the audience and speaks to them directly, inviting them to imagine this Dolon, and to share the performer’s opinion of him. Since it occurs in the priming act, I believe that δή may be regarded as having scope over the entire line, the entire description of this antagonist.
The use of γάρ after pronouns in both Homer and Pindar often introduces unframed discourse, as here.  γάρ introduces a fact about Lynkeus’ sight, which is triggered by association with the preceding narrative. The difference between unframed discourse introduced by δή and γάρ is that δή typically introduces a personal judgment. This does not mean that γάρ cannot introduce a personal judgment, as δὴ γάρ in Homer illustrates (see II.4 §19). Unframed discourse introduced by ἄρα, conversely, is expressly presented as shared between performer and audience or between speaker and internal audience. The difference between ὅς ῥα on the one hand and ὁ/ὃς δή and ὁ/ὃς γάρ on the other may be represented quite well with the paraphrase “who of course” for ὅς ῥα and “who actually” for ὁ/ὃς δή and ὁ/ὃς γάρ.
§72. Whereas until now I have limited my analysis to ὅς and ὁ, the masculine singular demonstrative or relative pronoun in the nominative, for my study of Isthmian 2 I take a more inclusive approach. Pronouns, nouns, and verbs all serve the performer’s efforts to guide the audience’s attention. Within this overall process of participant tracking – that is, the cognitive process of monitoring which character is in focus and which others should be attended to – the specific role of particles bears close study. In mainstream commentaries, most entries concern nouns, adjectives, adverbs, and verbs. Moreover, the entries show a distinct focus on semantics over discourse progression or participant tracking.  This illustrates the point I make at the beginning of this chapter: participant tracking does not generally cause problems for comprehension. Nonetheless, the complex process of referring to people both inside and outside the direct performance context deserves close attention. In what follows I present a line-by-line commentary to Pindar’s Isthmian 2 with a focus on referent tracking.
§74. Before moving on to the running commentary, let me broadly sketch the developments of referents within the ode, and the juxtaposition of individual and collective. From the start of the performance, the first person refers most naturally to the performer—be it a singer or a chorus.  Behind that performer lies always the voice of Pindar, so first-person references will often have been ambiguous, possibly on purpose. In this song, Thrasyboulus is established as the main second-person referent immediately with a vocative in line 1. He is picked up again in the first epode, in a verb form, and the part of the discourse addressed directly to Thrasyboulus is rounded off in the second epode, with another vocative. Next, Pindar starts the third triad with a gnṓmē, which introduces an extensive eulogy of Xenocrates, addressed perhaps to the wider audience. If Thrasyboulus is here still to be understood as the second person, it no longer emerges in the language. The final epode reveals this implicit change, with a third-person imperative that has to refer to Thrasyboulus. This opens up the second-person slot for another referent, Nicasippus, whose identity remains unclear. It is typically reserved for the laudandus to be juxtaposed with Pindar in the final lines of the song, so whoever Nicasippus was, the very fact that he is referred to in the second person in the last epode strongly suggests that he was a person of some importance to Pindar, the laudandus, and/or the audience.
§75. With Thrasyboulus established as second person, Xenocrates – the actual victor – is automatically relegated to the third person. Since all referents besides the performer, Thrasyboulus, and Nicasippus occur in the third person, Pindar has to disambiguate every time he talks of Xenocrates. To that end the victor is introduced by name at the end of the first epode, which runs over thematically into the second strophe. Pindar describes his athletic victories, and Xenocrates remains in focus until the shift to his charioteer just before the end of the strophe. After rounding off the second triad, Pindar has to activate Xenocrates again by naming him, before launching into a praise of his virtuous life. The eulogy reaches a climax in the third antistrophe, where Xenocrates is really the only referent. Then at the beginning of the final epode the marker νυν brings the audience back to the here-and-now, and makes Xenocrates an unlikely referent for the third-person imperative. He moves to the background, referred to only as “the father of”, and Thrasyboulus takes his place as the main third-person referent.
§76. Throughout the song we find juxtapositions of individuals and groups, both mortal and immortal, but in the end the central figures are individuals. Thus in the first strophe and antistrophe the Muses are first activated as a group, but later represented by the Muse Terpsichora. Even more clearly, in the second strophe two groups are adduced, but only to better demonstrate the κλέος of Xenocrates: he was a light for the Akragantines, and he pleased the Erechtheids.  After the praise of Nicomachus the charioteer, there is an interesting exception: Pindar links Ainesidamus’ descendants, that is Xenocrates and his brothers, as a group to an Olympic victory. It seems likely that he is being purposefully vague since neither Xenocrates nor Thrasyboulus had been involved in this victory, but another of their clan. Finally, we find the townsmen and the gods mentioned as groups who were treated well by Xenocrates; again the collective serves as a foil for the praise of the individual.
§77. To sum up, the special nature of Isthmian 2 is reflected in the linguistic forms of anaphoric reference. Whereas the laudandus is typically in the second person, in this case it is an absent father in the third person who receives the most resounding words of praise. The son Thrasyboulus is the addressee in the first and second triads, but has to make way for the mysterious Nicasippus in the final epode. The first-person referent is embedded in the the here-and-now of the performance, and his linguistic presence is linked in particular to places where the song references the event. Thus besides in direct addresses to the second person we find the “I” in transitions and metanarrative statements.
§78. The text below visually highlights the elements of the discourse that guide the audience’s referent tracking. Linguistic markers of frame switches are instrumental in this process, since a change of frame determines which referents are accessible. For this reason, I have indicated not only act boundaries (|) but also frame shifts, marked with a double vertical bar (||).  All particles are underlined (also when combined with a negative). In green I have marked all relative and demonstrative pronouns, including articles, as well as all pronouns, and nouns (including names) referring to characters outside or inside the discourse. The verb forms (finite verbs and participles) are also in green, when they are instrumental to participant tracking. These form the majority of the items discussed in the entries, but here and there I go slightly off topic in order to address an issue in the text or in current scholarship. After each metrical unit of strophe, antistrophe, or epode follows the translation, the list of referents, and then the commentary.
lightly shot honey-sounding hymns for boys.
5 the sweetest bloom reminiscent of fair-throned Aphrodite.
For the Muse, she was then not yet profit-loving, nor for hire.
sweet songs with silvered faces and lovely voices.
honoring the man who knows the chariot well, a light for the Akragantines.
In Krisa mighty Apollo saw him, and gave him splendor.
Participants: Xenocrates, the Akragantines, Apollo, the Erechtheids, the charioteer | 18 ἐν Κρίσᾳ…νιν: There is a change of grammatical subject, introduced by a name (Ἀπόλλων); the tense returns to aorist (εῖδε, as ὀπάσαις), and the object (Xenocrates) remains the same and can be picked up with the enclitic νιν. | 18 πόρε τε: Subject continuity, frame continuity: null anaphor. τε adds an entire clause, generally called “sentential τε” or “consecutive τε.” | 19 καὶ τόθι: There is discussion about whether this should be connected to the preceding (in which case τε is inserted after κλειναῖς): “And he [sc. Apollo] granted him glory, there too. And to the renowned…” or to the following: “And he [sc. Apollo] granted him glory. And there pleasing to the renowned favors of the Erechtheids …”  Prior to answering the question of how καὶ τόθι should be constructed, we need to consider the referential transition. In the middle of a symmetrical construction about gods granting Xenocrates victories, Xenocrates is here made an agent and grammatical subject himself. This kind of transition is unlikely after τόθι, since τε with a participial clause and no other marker would strongly suggest subject continuity (there is subject continuity in lines 18, 25, and 38; in 23 the relative in the oblique projects subject change: ὅν τε). Therefore I propose keeping the reading of the manuscripts (without τε), as do Fennell, Dornseiff, and Thummer, and I take καὶ τόθι as a transitional priming act,  projecting “there” forward. Thus there are three contextual frames: one in the Isthmus (introduced by [Ἰσθμίαν νίκαν] τάν 14), one in Krisa (near Delphi, introduced by ἐν Κρίσᾳ δέ 17), and one in Athens (introduced by καὶ τόθι). That is to say, καί works de dicto, not de re. The reason for the variation in form may be that καὶ τόθι introduces a longer section of discourse, from line 19 to line 27. The length in turn may be because the Athenian victory was the most recent.  | 20 οὐκ ἐμέμφθη: The change in contextual frame effected by καὶ τόθι means by definition that there is a new pool of potential referents (there is no covert continuity across frame boundaries). In the preceding discourse, across the different frames, the only common element is Xenocrates. Therefore, he is the most accessible, and the only referent that can be retrieved with null anaphor (∅ ἐμέμφθη) at this point. | 21 φωτός: A new referent is introduced into the frame with a full noun and adjective. The full line devoted to introducing him – without naming him – at the end of the strophe projects his relevance into the antistrophe. φωτός thus works cataphorically: a name is expected and anticipated.
that Nicomachus plied rightly to all the reins.
Zeus from Elis; they had probably experienced some deed of hospitality.
Participants: Nicomachus, the heralds from Elis, Zeus, Victory | 22 τάν Νικόμαχος: The relative only has one locally available referent: χεῖρ, and the name is automatically connected to the charioteer introduced in 21. His name at the very beginning of the antistrophe suggests that he will be its main topic (cf. ἁ Μοῖσα in line 6). | 23 ὅν τε: The pronoun retrieves the most accessible masculine referent: Nicomachus. Although τε occurs right after a relative pronoun, it appears to be at least partly copulative, in a bisyndetic construction with the τε in line 25.  | 23 καὶ κάρυκες: καί should not be connected with τε, but has small scope over κάρυκες.  This can mean either: “the heralds, too” (as Privitera 1982:37), or καί can have a pinning-down function,  perhaps to be rendered through prosodic emphasis: “the HERalds.” Since the introduction of the κάρυκες ὡρᾶν marks the transition to the Olympic games, “also” is not unfelicitous. | 24 παθόντες πού: The plural participle picks up κάρυκες, and I agree with Bury 1892:45 that the aorist participle places παθόντες before ἀνέγνον in time.  που might serve to interact with the audience at the performance, if we follow Koier’s argument that που with verbs of knowing marks something as shared between speaker and hearer.  Thus it serves to reinforce a sharedness in the praise of Nicomachus’ hospitality. | 25 νιν: The enclitic pronoun marks continuity of object. | 26 πίτνοντα: Co-referential with νιν. Despite the semantic difficulties in this line (see Verdenius 1982:22), it is clear that the referent concerned is Nicomachus. | 26 Νίκα: This ode is only marginally concerned with an athletic victory, but Pindar still introduces personified Victory here. It is remarkable that the word Νίκα is so far separated from the names of Xenocrates and Thrasyboulus, and instead directly associated with the charioteer Nicomachus.
Participants: the heralds, <men>, Zeus, Ainesidamus’ descendants, Thrasyboulus | 27 γαὶαν… σφετέραν: Nicomachus won “in their land,” σφετέραν still refers to the κάρυκες. | 27 τὰν δή: The pronoun followed by δή consistently marks a new beginning of some sort in Pindar.  Here it introduces unframed discourse, which allows for a new, generic referent “men.”  The act introduced by τὰν δή resolves any possible ambiguity in the preceding passage, where Olympia has only been referred to obliquely. | 28-29 Αἰνησιδάμου παῖδες: The new grammatical subject is introduced by a full noun phrase. The re-introduction of the descendants of Ainesidamus (his sons Xenocrates and Theron, but including grandson Thrasyboulus too, I believe; see note ad ὑμῖν 30) also accommodates the upcoming return to the hic et nunc. Only Theron won at the Olympic games, so I would take it as a generic statement that the family gained honor at the games.  | 30 καὶ γάρ…δόμοι: γάρ introduces the return to the present, and is best left untranslated. I disagree with Verdenius and Thummer that καὶ γάρ should be taken as affirmative and that the transition should be read as an asyndeton.  γάρ serves precisely to mark the associative link between the preceding move about the past and the current move about the present, and as such has scope over the entire move; καί, conversely, has scope over the act only. | 30 ὑμῖν: The combination of ὑμῖν with the vocative Θρασύβουλε in the next line suggests that Pindar here takes all descendants of Ainesidamus together: Thrasyboulus, his father Xenocrates (deceased), and his uncle Theron (perhaps still alive). δόμοι “house,” the grammatical subject in this move, reflects this inclusiveness.
and in winter sailing to the shore of the Nile.
Participants: Xenocrates, the gods | 38 τε νομίζων: Without explicit marking to the contrary, τε suggests continuity of grammatical subject. | 39 καί: As in 19 (∅, δέ, καί), καί introduces a third consecutive item: μέν, τε, καί.  | 39 οὐδέ ποτε: The linguistically more extensive transition introduces the fourth topic of hospitality, which will remain in focus until line 42. | 41-42 ἀλλά, μέν, δέ: The discourse progresses in clear steps. Because of constant subject continuity there are no (pro)nouns referring to the grammatical subject.
I did not craft these to remain idle.
you come to my trusted guest-friend.
Participants: men, Thrasyboulus, Xenocrates, Nicasippus, the “I” persona | 43 μή νυν: Right after the discontinuity between antistrophe and epode we find νυν: even in its enclitic form it will have activated the hic et nunc after μή at the beginning of act, verse, and epode. | 43 ὅτι…ἐλπίδες: The unframed nature of this insertion gives it the sense of a parenthetical right after the beginning of the epode. The gnomic thought serves as a backdrop for the wish started by μή νυν. | 44 μήτε: The negative resumes the interrupted construction in 43, and τε is probably to be understood as anticipatory in some sense to the negatives at the start of the following two lines. | 44 σιγάτω: One of the hardest forms in the song as regards referent tracking. Xenocrates has been the grammatical subject throughout the last passage, but that is no longer the case after the strong discontinuity marked by μή νυν. As soon as the frame of the here and now is activated, the most accessible referents are the performer (first person) and the audience or Thrasyboulus (second person). There is no logical referent for the third person imperative σιγάτω, however, since the wish is unlikely to refer to the dead Xenocrates. On the basis of sense, all commentators read σιγάτω as referring to Thrasyboulus, albeit in the third person. Bury rightly notes that πατρῴαν immediately helps to disambiguate.  Verdenius suggests that the performer addresses Nicasippus from μή νυν onward (see the vocative in line 47).  This would certainly explain the shift to third person, and it may be supported by one more argument. Verdenius believes that ταῦτα refers to the present song,  but I believe Privitera rightly reads it as referring specifically to the two pieces of advice introduced by ταῦτα: “riferisci a Trasibulo questa mia raccomandazione di celebrare suo padre.”  If ταῦτα indeed refers to these specific elements, then it is likely that the performer already turned (mentally or physically) to Nicasippus with μή νυν in line 43, and σιγάτω refers to Thrasyboulus. | 45 μηδέ: Perhaps the second limb of μήτε…μηδέ is indeed more poignant than the first.  This asymmetry appears to be corroborated by the following line, which expands on the hymns. | 45 ἐπεί τοι: As in line 43 (ὅτι), a causal conjunction introduces a motivation, in this case for the preceding wish. τοι must be the particle, since if it were the second person, it would only make sense if it referred to Thrasyboulus, which it cannot do here. | 46 αὐτούς: Since there is clear object continuity, Bury is probably right in regarding αὐτούς as implying a contrast with “other hymns.”  | 47 Νικάσιππε: Whoever this man was,  I believe his presence at the performance must be presupposed. If he was indeed a khorēgós, the last epode is apparently some kind of personal message. However, in performance the addressee of the chorus might then have been unclear to the audience. In any case, he must have been present at the occasion, and Nicasippus must have been an accessible referent for (the majority of) the audience. For σιγάτω to be easily understandable, a physical shift of gaze by the performer would have been helpful. I find it doubtful that Nicasippus was a mere professional of any kind: the position so close to the end of the song is extremely marked. | 48 ξεῖνον ἐμόν: The guest-friend must be Thrasyboulus, but the first-person reference is inherently ambiguous, referring at once to the composer Pindar and the current performer. The ambiguity may not have been felt by the audience at all, but a full understanding of the final expression depends again on the question of who Nicasippus was.
§79. Many of the passages discussed in the running commentary above may appear at first sight not to be problematic at all. However, it is my point to reveal how complex the process of referent tracking is, which normally works automatically in our minds as we read or listen. The focus in this section has not been to solve problems, but to attempt to explain why we have relatively few problems in following Pindar’s discourse. Along the way, I have discussed more general problems with the second Isthmian from the perspective of anaphoric reference. The analysis only proposes an alternative road to solutions, arriving sometimes at conclusions similar to, sometimes different from, the commentaries. Finally, considering an entire discourse illustrates best how referent tracking and particle use mutually influence each other. Understanding better what particles do helps us to gain a fuller understanding of the process of reference tracking, and vice versa.
§80. In the discussion of particles that come after ὅς or ὁ in Homer, we must consider at least the following factors in order to perceive the relevant patterns. First, what is the exact referent of the anaphoric pronoun? That is, not its textual antecedent, but the mental representation of the referent at the moment that the pronoun is uttered. Second, does the anaphoric pronoun continue framed or unframed discourse, mark a transition from framed to unframed discourse, or a transition from unframed to framed? Third, who is the referent for the speaker or audience: is the referent present in the physical discourse context? Is there a particular emotional connection between speaker and referent? Does the referent have a particular relevance to the larger narrative or tradition? Do speaker and audience have the same referent in mind?
§81. As regards the difference between ὁ and ὅς, it is clear that they are used interchangeably in Homer. For both third-person pronouns the following pattern occurs: when ὁ/ὅς introduces framed discourse, all masculine singular referents within the frame are in principle accessible. When ὁ/ὅς introduces unframed discourse, conversely, the performer picks out one character who must be highly accessible: that is, the referent must be overt in the directly preceding discourse, typically as subject or as object. Therefore ὁ/ὅς introducing framed discourse more often marks change of grammatical (and logical) subject than ὁ/ὅς introducing unframed discourse.
§82. The different particles that follow the pronoun introduce very particular kinds of acts. ὁ δέ marks a continuation of framed discourse or a resumption of framed discourse after unframed discourse. The cluster ὅ γε can carry the force of γε to a greater or lesser extent, thus offering a functional continuum. At one end of the continuum ὅ γε serves to activate a referent who is completely or largely to be inferred, that is, who has not been expressed linguistically in the preceding discourse. At the other end, ὅ γε is indistinguishable from the anaphoric pronoun ὁ itself, serving particularly to retrieve or pin down the character currently in focus near discursive transitions. As for Homer, neither the numbers nor current understanding of the anaphoric pronoun justify the widespread belief that ὁ δέ marks change of grammatical subject, whereas ὅ γε serves to mark grammatical subject continuity.
§83. Both ἄρα and δή after anaphoric pronouns have commonly been described as lending emphasis to the pronoun.  In translations, in fact, their presence is often not reflected at all, particularly in Homer. Thus, these particles go undiscussed, and patterns of use have remained unstudied. In the sections above I have provided one possible way of describing the differences between the use of ὅ/ὅς ῥα and ὁ/ὃς δή. When it introduces unframed discourse, ὅ/ὅς ῥα accompanies a verb in the imperfect tense that imparts a piece of shared or expected knowledge about the referent. In framed discourse, conversely, a verb in the aorist typically follows ὅ/ὅς ῥα, describing an action that is either already known or logically expected. ὁ/ὃς δή in Homer always introduces unframed discourse, barring one instance, mostly in direct speech, and offers new information about a referent. Often the newness of the act lies in the fact that it is a personal reflection of some sort. It is this last aspect that sets ὁ/ὃς δή slightly apart from ὁ γάρ. This last combination also typically serves to introduce new information, but γάρ, unlike δή, betrays no particular personal involvement, and can therefore be used freely by the narrator as well as by internal speakers.
§84. Both the corpus study of particle use after anaphoric pronouns in Homer and the “anaphora commentary” to Pindar’s Second Isthmian are meant as sorties into a huge field that has yet to be explored further. Building on the work of Bakker and Bonifazi I have attempted to demonstrate the importance of taking a discourse approach to anaphoric reference. Not only does this offer a deeper understanding of the process of anaphoric reference itself, but it provides a solid basis for better explaining certain aspects of difficult Homeric particles such as ἄρα and δή. The complexities of anaphoric pronouns are yet another element of discourse to take into account when searching for patterns of particle use in Homer and Pindar.
[ back ] 1. See Chafe 1994:108-119 for the discussion of his “one new idea constraint.” He applies it to intonation units, but we use the term “discourse act,” see II.2.
[ back ] 2. For early literature on the idea of topic, see Chafe 1976 and Givón (ed.) 1983. H. Dik 1995 and 2007 applies a pragmatic approach to word order in Ancient Greek. Scheppers 2011 employs similar methodology to his idea of the “colon” in prose, a close cognate of what we call a discourse act.
[ back ] 3. So-called “epic” τε after pronouns has already been discussed for Homer in II.4.3.1 and II.4.4.4 and for Pindar in II.4.5. See also IV.2.3 for a more complete discussion of τε’s functions; for ὁ καί I refer the reader to the extensive discussion of the particle’s functions in IV.2.4. Finally, the function of γάρ after pronouns falls under the discussion of “γάρ introducing unframed discourse” in II.4.2.1.
[ back ] 4. The topic of referents in narrative is to a significant extent more relevant for Homer than for Pindar. First of all, the Homeric epics offer a reasonable number of instances of the phenomena, whereas Pindar’s Victory Odes have only a very limited number of the kinds of constructions under examination. This is the result of the fact that the Pindaric corpus is smaller, and less of it is narrative. Second, even in narratives, Pindar is much less concerned with scenes involving multiple characters. As a result, Pindar is less prominent in section 3, the comparative analysis, but the close reading of Isthmian 2 in 5.4 balances out the asymmetry.
[ back ] 5. See e.g. Des Places 1947 and Bonifazi 2004c for Pindar, and Slater 1983 and Calame 1985 for Homer.
[ back ] 6. Cornish 1999:116-117.
[ back ] 7. This is an example from a cookbook, quoted by Halliday and Hasan 1976:2. One may compare the more famous, but constructed, example from Brown and Yule 1983:202, “Kill an active, plump chicken. Put it in the oven.” Consider another example, from Dinsmore 1987:15, “If J. Edgar Hoover had been born a Russian, he would have been a Communist.” Here the named character refers to a historical person, but the personal pronoun “he” refers to a hypothetical referent. Emmott 1997: 179-180 discusses this gap in coreferentiality.
[ back ] 8. See Berrendonner and Reichler-Béguelin 1995 for their arguments against what they call the “antecedentiste” (26-27) approach to reference.
[ back ] 9. See Cornish 1999:7 and 41-51; this description of the antecedent is influenced by Ariel 1996:17.
[ back ] 10. See especially Halliday 1967 and Halliday and Hasan 1976.
[ back ] 11. See e.g. Prince 1981 and Brown and Yule 1983:190-222.
[ back ] 12. Slightly adapted from Prince 1981:226-227.
[ back ] 13. Ariel 1988, 1990, and 1991.
[ back ] 14. Gundel, Hedberg, and Zacharsky 1993, expanded in multiple later publications.
[ back ] 15. The main difference between the two approaches is that whereas Ariel (accessibility) maps referential expressions directly on a status on the accessibility scale, Gundel’s approach (givenness hierarchy) allows for upward implication (see most recently Gundel, Hedberg, and Zacharsky 2012:252-254). That is to say that a referential expression that is marked low for givenness may be used for entities that are in fact higher on the givenness hierarchy in the minds of speaker and hearer. In simpler terms, it is “allowed” to overdetermine referents, but not to underdetermine them (since in the latter case the communication would probably be unsuccessful).
In the Accessibility Marking scale by Ariel 1991:441, the list is even more extensive; see Cornish 1999:6-8 for a discussion of both approaches.
[ back ] 17. Bakker 1997:111 attempts to create such a scheme for Homer.
[ back ] 18. For the reader’s convenience, I henceforth use the term accessibility to cover both the ideas of givenness and accessibility.
[ back ] 21. Bonifazi 2012:19-38 proposes a similar approach to anaphoric markers in Homer, with a main focus on (ἐ)κεῖνος and αὐτός.
[ back ] 23. It occurs 21 times: Iliad 4.504, 5.42, 5.540, 5.617, 11.449, 13.187, 13.373, 13.442, 15.421, 15.524, 15.578, 16.325, 16.401, 16.599, 16.822, 17.50, 17.311, 17.580, 20.388; Odyssey 22.94, 24.525; see Kirk 1985:392.
[ back ] 24. Although the LSJ s.v. δουπέω takes the main meaning of the verb to be “sound heavy or dead,” I follow Chantraine 19992:282 in reading it as “the clatter or noise (of battle)” (“fracas des lances” “bruit de la bataille”), since outside of this formula the verb is used chiefly to describe the sound of battle or of the sea.
[ back ] 26. Chafe 1974:122.
[ back ] 27. Chafe 1994:71-81.
[ back ] 28. Bakker 1997:108-111 and passim.
[ back ] 29. Bonifazi 2012:19-26.
[ back ] 30. Bonifazi 2012:28-38.
[ back ] 31. For κεῖνος and αὐτός forms referring to Odysseus in the Odyssey see Bonifazi 2010 and 2012:38-183.
[ back ] 32. ὅς: 375x in the Iliad and 229x in the Odyssey.
[ back ] 33. ὁ/ὅ: 751x in the Iliad and 164x in the Odyssey.
[ back ] 34. This distinction is not addressed in Des Places 1947:35-50, Hummel 1993:174-177, or Bonifazi 2004c.
[ back ] 35. For a concise exploration of the issue, see Bonifazi 2004c (with a focus on Pindar); see also Bakker 1999 and 2005:77-80 on ὁ and οὗτος in Homer.
[ back ] 36. ὁ represents the pronoun from the PIE root *to, i.e. ὁ, ἡ, τό, while the relative pronoun from the PIE root *yo gives the paradigm ὅς, ἥ, ὅ. The TLG edition of the Odyssey does not accentuate the demonstrative pronoun, while the edition of the Iliad does. For reasons of consistency, and in accordance with common practice, I have chosen to give ὁ throughout.
[ back ] 38. Translation Murray. This is in fact a unique instance of ὃς δή in Homer; only here does it introduce framed discourse. See below §59-§65 for the more common pattern of use of this pronoun and particle combination.
[ back ] 40. See below, especially §49-§66, for the possible relevance of the use of the imperfect (sometimes present or pluperfect) in a context of narrative told in aorists.
[ back ] 41. See II.4 §§11-14 for the terms “framed” and “unframed” discourse.
[ back ] 42. I exclude the feminine singular pronoun in the nominative for practical reasons. First, the feminine pronoun (ἡ and ἥ) occurs much less frequently; second, the constructions in which it partakes do not differ from that of the masculine pronoun that I discuss below.
[ back ] 43. For a discussion of pronoun use in pro-drop languages, see Frascarelli 2007:694-696, with extensive references.
[ back ] 45. If there is no ambiguity of anaphoric reference, there is a tendency in English to keep reference to the subject “light,” called the “light subject constraint” by Chafe 1994:82-92; Greek appears to function similarly.
[ back ] 47. Compare the following constructed example from Prince 1981:227 “John called Sam a Republican and then HE insulted HIM.” The accented pronouns (as opposed to “John called Sam a Republican and then he insulted him”) suggests that there is a shift of subject, leading to the assumption that “HE” refers to Sam, whereas “he” would most naturally have referred to John. See also the example in Prince 19n34. Fox 1987:172 shows that in written English narrative the accented pronoun would most probably take the form of a full noun phrase. Givón 2005:136 shows that zero anaphora and unstressed pronouns in English signal maximal referential continuity whereas constructions containing a stressed pronoun or even stronger marking signal referential discontinuity.
[ back ] 48. I use marked/unmarked in the sense proposed by Givón 2005:139: “maximal-continuity anaphoric devices – zero-anaphor and unstressed/clitic pronoun – are the least marked devices, carrying the smallest phonological weight and lacking independent lexical status” [emphasis original].
[ back ] 49. See Bonifazi 2012:26.
[ back ] 50. First in Chafe 1976.
[ back ] 53. Gundel et al. 2012:251: “A speaker, in producing a particular determiner or pronoun, thus provides a processing signal to the addressee that helps restrict the set of possible referents.” On pages 252-253 they explain how the hierarchy works on the basis of how informative the linguistic referring expression is.
[ back ] 54. Chafe 1994:77-78 discusses the factor of contrastiveness (creating contrast between one referent and another, which may or may not be expressed) as a reason for using accented forms in spoken English when unaccented forms might have been expected; Emmott 1997:86 (with reference to Longacre 1974 and 19962) notes that there may be literary reasons for “lexical reiteration” instead of pronominalization.
[ back ] 55. I use “combination” as a neutral term for two or more particles or other words that co-occur, and “cluster” for recurrent combinations whose resulting function either extends beyond, or is significantly different from, the sum of its parts; see I.1.
[ back ] 56. See II.2 §§31-36.
[ back ] 57. See for example ἷξε δέ in (t15) below.
[ back ] 59. Janko ad Iliad 16.467, where ὁ δέ occurs despite continuity of grammatical subject. It is probably comments like this that lead to claims like that in Raible 2001:593 “Languages using this [zero anaphor] technique tend to develop a special morpheme signaling a different subject (…) in the subsequent clause. In classical Greek this is the function of the particle de.” While Janko’s generalization holds, Raible’s claim for δέ alone oversimplifies. He might rather have said that in combination with a pronoun in the nominative, δέ often signals a change of subject.
[ back ] 60. For this use of ὅ γε – to help retrieve the referent after an intervening discourse discontinuity of some sort (here a simile) – see §§27-50 below.
[ back ] 61. ᾤκει is a single imperfect among aorists (δώκε, 197, περισχόμεθα, 199, πόρεν, 201): this is typical for unframed discourse in Homer; see II.4.2, and §§51-62 below on ἄρα.
[ back ] 62. See II.4 §14 and Emmott 1997:239 and 248-252.
[ back ] 64. The codex Marciana 458 has a comma after ὁ δέ, while both Escorial Ω and Venetus B have a sign of a double grave over δέ: “ δὲ` ”, which I interpret to be some kind of instruction for prosodic discontinuity. This is why I use a comma in the English translation. It resembles Iliad 20.455-456, where there is a clear boundary after ὁ δέ: ὣς εἰπὼν Δρύοπ’ οὖτα κατ’ αὐχένα μέσσον ἄκοντι· / ἤριπε δὲ προπάροιθε ποδῶν· ὁ δὲ | τὸν μὲν ἔασε. In this passage ὁ δέ does mark a change of subject (ἤριπε has Druops as its subject), but as in 20.322 there is a transition to a new episode of the narrative. See IV.3.4-5 on more about ancient and medieval punctuation and its links to our act boundaries.
[ back ] 65. The use of αὐτίκα may also have contributed to the vividness of the scene, see Bonifazi 2012:273-281, with reference to the present passage in 280n40.
[ back ] 66. ὁ δέ accompanies continuity of grammatical subject only in Pythian 4.78, see (t32).
[ back ] 67. See Gildersleeve 1885:ci and Bonifazi 2004c:49-54. In the present and following notes I give a list of the uses of ὁ δέ in Pindar. I read the article ὁ in Olympian 1.1, 8.28; Pythian 1.35, 9.78, 11.30; Nemean 7.67; Isthmian 7.39.
[ back ] 69. Ι read ὁ as a relative pronoun in Olympian 1.73, 10.43 (δ᾽ ἄρα); Pythian 1.8, 4.78 (δ᾽ ἆρα), 3.92, 6.33, 9.17, 11.34 (δ᾽ἄρα); Nemean 1.43, 1.61, 7.36, 10.13; Isthmian 6.41.
[ back ] 70. Pythian 2.73 ὁ δὲ Ῥαδάμανθυς (“(that) Rhadamanthys”) and 5.60 (“(that) Apollo”). Bonifazi 2004a links this to the idea of “recognitional deixis,” from Diessel 1999, to mark a referent that is new in the discourse, but already known to speaker and listener. Using an article with a name is the exception rather than the rule in Pindar, which suggests that at least some demonstrative force may be attributed to ὁ in these cases.
[ back ] 71. Bonifazi 2004c:50.
[ back ] 73. The parallels are: Olympian 10.66 (“He, who”); Pythian 8.48 (“He, who”; in this instance as for Pythian 4.78-79, (t33) below, Giannini in Gentili 1995:575 reads ὁ as an article), 8.88 (“He, who”); Nemean 5.34 (“He, (…) Zeus”), 9.24 (“He, (…) Zeus”).
[ back ] 74. Liddell, Scott, Jones, and McKenzie 19409:1195b (s.v. ὅ γε).
[ back ] 75. Denniston 1950:114-115.
[ back ] 78. Out of a total of 128 instances in the Iliad, ὅ γε marks grammatical subject change in 58 instances. This number is 27 out of 62 for the Odyssey, so slightly less than half in both epics.
[ back ] 80. Consider also that Homer has the elided form ὅ γ᾽ 104 times and the full form ὅ γε 86 times.
[ back ] 81. When used in scalar wishes, περ marks something that is still attainable (“inclusive”) while γε marks something that is impossible to attain (“exclusive”), see Bakker 1988:97-98.
[ back ] 82. See Sicking 1986:125 and Wakker 1994:308.
[ back ] 84. See Bonifazi 2012:31.
[ back ] 85. See III.3.3.1.1-2 for an exploration of this aspect of γε marking dialogic resonance across utterances in tragic and comic dialogue, and see III.4.5.2 for γε in answers to express a speaker’s stance.
[ back ] 86. See §§46-47 below for more on ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε.
[ back ] 88. If one wishes to find a textual antecedent for ὅ γε, one can choose to read “Let it not be that someone is a wholly godless man, but let him own his gifts from the gods in silence.” In this reading ὅ γε could be taken as referring to τις, and a similar reading could be wrangled out of (t19). However, ὅ γε here is better understood as triggering the creation of a generic referent than retrieving an earlier one.
[ back ] 89. See Iliad 21.113 for another instance of ὅ γε retrieving τις, and similarly ὅ γε retrieving ᾧ κεν in 24.530; compare Cornish 54-56 with examples 2.20a and 2.20b for similar constructions in English and French.
[ back ] 90. See Cornish 1999:112-148 for a discussion, with extensive literature.
[ back ] 91. See Cornish 1999:30, who discusses a speaker using an “accented demonstrative pronoun (THAT) fulfilling a deictic function, in order to render accessible and salient an item of information which (…) was in the background, not the foreground, of attention.” There are several similar cases: Iliad 13.53 (Poseidon speaking of Hector who is in sight), 13.70 (about Poseidon/Kalchas), and 19.344 (κεῖνος ὅ γε, Zeus to Athena about Achilles).
[ back ] 93. Compare (t8) and (t9) above.
[ back ] 94. Bonifazi 2012, especially 159-172. Compare also ὅ γε in Odyssey 19.575 (reference to Odysseus by Penelope, spoken to Odysseus-in-disguise).
[ back ] 95. Odyssey 8.14 and 23.163.
[ back ] 96. Odyssey 16.182-183: ἄλλα δὲ εἵματ’ ἔχεις καί τοι χρὼς οὐκέθ’ ὁμοῖος. / ἦ μάλα τις θεός ἐσσι.
[ back ] 97. Another possible reason for the strong referring expression is the fact that there is a scene boundary after line 468. Compare Odyssey 1.443 for ὅ γε marking a similarly strong visual focus on Telemachus, as he sits on his bed and ponders his future.
[ back ] 98. See also Monro 1882:258, who argues that γε after pronouns serves “to bring out the contrast which (…) Pronouns [sic] more or less distinctly imply.” More generally, Hartung 1832:371, Kühner 1835:398, and Stephens 1837:92 remark that γε can mark a contrast with something left implicit; see III.3.3.1.1 for a closer analysis of γε marking a contrast with something implicit in tragic stichomythia.
[ back ] 99. Chafe 1994:76-78, examples on 77: “ín” in example 7b (backward), and “dóctor” in example 8c (forward). Compare Grégoire 1930:163, who notes that when γε in Homer has the ictus, it usually follows a form of ὅ. In these cases, he believes that the pronoun-particle combination is in some kind of opposition with a preceding element.
[ back ] 100. The other instances of ἦ τοι ὅ γε where there is no subject continuity are Iliad 11.94 and 19.100.
[ back ] 101. Compare the discussion of ὅ γε in direct speech to refer to “that man there” in (t20).
[ back ] 102. It is not “semantisch redundant” as Gesamtkommentar:II.2.215 claims.
[ back ] 104. See Monro 1882:258-259, Denniston 1950:119, Chantraine 1953:II.159.
[ back ] 105. See Gesamtkommentar III.2.143, “ὅ γε betont im zweiten Satzglied die Identität der (…) unterschiedlich handelnden Person,” with parallels.
[ back ] 106. ἄλοχος does not mean “wife” here, but “concubine of equal class” (Gesamtkommentar III.2.143, “‘Konkubine, Geliebte’ von ebenbürtigem Stand.”).
[ back ] 107. It does not “merely resume the original subject,” as Leaf 1900:I.149 believes.
[ back ] 108. Shipp 1961:14-15 and 19722:240 rather believes that δούλη here means “slave-concubine,” but this is rejected by Krieter-Spiro in the Gesamtkommentar, with references. Regardless of the exact meaning of ἄλοχος and δούλη here, the scalar sense is clear: “until he makes you a concubine” (unexpected), and “until HE makes you a slave” (even more unexpected).
[ back ] 110. See II.4.3.2 and below §§51-62 for frame recall after unframed discourse. The same construction occurs after an intervening relative clause, as in Odyssey 15.252-255, or after a simile, see ὅ γε in (t13) above. Sometimes the gap between the final mention of the referent and the retrieval through ὅ γε is rather long, as in Iliad 17.108 and Odyssey 17.514. A change of subject while the referent is in focus occurs in Odyssey 18.398.
[ back ] 111. De Jong 2001:584 reads lines 423-424 as focalized through Eupeithes, upon which the narrator intrudes with his knowledge of whom Odysseus killed first: “The narrator intrudes upon his embedded focalization (…) by adding the detail ‘first’ (something which the father cannot know).” Unlike the instances of δὴ γάρ (see II.4 §19), however, there is nothing in the language here to suggest a blurring of perspectives. I read the lines as unframed discourse, directly from performer to audience, where he shares knowledge only he can have. The Homeric performer knows Eupeithes’ mind and he can tell the audience that his son Antinous was in fact the first to be killed.
[ back ] 112. ὅ γε right before direct speech: Iliad 1.93, 2.55, 2.109, 4.357, 8.138, 13.94, 13.480, 17.219, 19.100, 21.367, 23.5, 23.42; Odyssey 1.31, 2.24, 4.189, 13.254, 17.466, 18.110, 24.425, ; ὅ γε right after direct speech: Iliad 1.68, 1.101, 2.76, 2.207, 4.250, 7.354, 7.365, 9.620; Odyssey 2.224.
[ back ] 113. Iliad 1.68, 1.101, 2.76, 7.354, 7.365; Odyssey 2.224.
[ back ] 114. For this interjection-like reading of ἦ at strong discursive discontinuities, see II.3.2.3.
[ back ] 115. In both Iliad (8x) and Odyssey (8x) there is the speech-capping construction ὣς φάθ᾽, ὁ δέ, always marking subject change. A similar construction occurs in the Odyssey only, but accounts for 14 out 41 instances of ὁ δέ: ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ.
[ back ] 116. ὅ γε is especially visually relevant in Iliad 5.585 (the image of the warrior standing upright with his head in the sand) and Odyssey 17.302 (Odysseus’ dog Argos).
[ back ] 117. There are even a few instances where the two constructions intersect, as in Iliad 21.550, 21.581, and Odyssey 11.190, 20.140, 22.116.
[ back ] 118. The cognitive priming is primarily local and visual/experiential in the construction φῆ δ᾽ ὅ γε: Iliad 2.37; Odyssey 17.142, 24.470. For the loci of ὅ γε near the beginning of direct speech, see note 112 above.
[ back ] 119. I read a similar projecting function of ὅ γε in: Iliad 15.455, 24.189; Odyssey 22.480.
[ back ] 120. There are also 6 instances of the construction where there is no subject continuity: Iliad 2.3, 15.676, 17.705, 24.14, Odyssey 5.82, 14.526.
[ back ] 121. 20 times in the Iliad and 9 times in the Odyssey; the 4 exceptions are Iliad 1.281, 5.434 (but this instance is textually uncertain), and 8.311 (=13.518), where we find a different construction. I am not sure what Denniston 1950:12 means by: “Often the emphatic word or phrase in the ἀλλά-clause (which word or phrase follows immediately, or almost immediately, after the particle) is limitatively qualified by γε (…). Homer never has ἀλλά … γε,” especially since he quotes Iliad 1.281 ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε on page 11.
[ back ] 122. See ORPS, s.v. ἀλλά passim.
[ back ] 123. The parallels are (line numbers refer to the instances of ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε): Iliad 1.320 (λῆγ᾽ ἔριδος), 4.389 (τάρβει), 5.321 (ἐλήθετο), 12.305 (μέμονε), 12.394 (λήθετο), 13.523 (πέπυστο, but the text is uncertain for ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε), 15.676 (Αἴαντι .. ἥνδανε θυμῷ), 17.705 (ἤθελε), 21.581 (ἔθελεν), 24.14 (μιν λήθεσκεν); Odyssey 5.82 (ἠγνοίησεν), 9.554 (ἐμπάζετο), 14.422 (λήθετο), 14.526 (συβώτῃ ἥνδανεν).
[ back ] 124. Iliad 2.3 (Δία δ’ οὐκ ἔχε .. ὕπνος), 6.504 (δήθυνεν), 15.586 (μεῖνε), 23.5 (εἴα ἀποσκίδνασθαι); Odyssey 5.33 (the negation takes the form of an adverbial phrase “without interference by gods or men”), 11.190 (οἱ <ἐστι>), 12.188? (παρήλασε, see t18), 18.142 (εἴη).
[ back ] 125. Iliad 2.420 (ἐπεκραίαινε), 22.92 (ἔπειθον); Odyssey 9.288 (ἀμείβετο).
[ back ] 126. For the more well-known variant of a counterfactual construction (“καί νύ κεν…εἰ μή) see Louden 1993. His argument is that these constructions occur at pivotal moments in the narrative.
[ back ] 128. See II.4 §§34-37 and §§46-49.
[ back ] 129. See below note 159 as well as (t48) with note 198 for δή after pronouns in Pindar.
[ back ] 130. The parenthetical apposition comes much later in the Greek, but sticking to this position would yield an ambiguous English translation.
[ back ] 131. See Bonifazi 2012:137-184 for more on the layered meaning of αὐτός, noting especially the strong link with death (141-143 for the body of Patroclus); I merely point out the proximity of θάνεν here.
[ back ] 132. See II.4 §§57-71 for more on the link between τε and tradition in Pindar.
[ back ] 133. I take issue with Des Places’ reading, 1947:45 “11, 34 : ὁ δ᾽ (= Oreste) après (θάνεν) μὲν αὐτὸς ἥρως (31), qui tient lieu d’ὁ μέν.” From the point of view of discourse and performance there is no reason to see a link between μέν and δέ in this passage.
[ back ] 134. Snell/Maehler give the nominative νέα κεφαλά, following Heyne’s reading, rather than the dative νέᾳ κεφαλᾷ of the manuscripts (followed by Gentili 1995); either reading suits my interpretation, although in the manuscript reading it is not an appositive.
[ back ] 135. Olympian 10.43-45 is a good parallel (ὁ δ’ ἄρ’ ἐν Πίσᾰͅ ἔλσαις ὅλον τε στρατόν / λᾴαν τε πᾶσαν Διὸς ἄλκιμος / υἱὸς) with the difference being that the referent in that song, Heracles, is not retrieved by association as Orestes is here. However, Heracles is available at the occurrence of ὁ δ᾽ἄρα by virtue of the death of the main referent in focus (θάνατον αἰπὺν οὐκ ἐξέφυγεν, 42). Just as in Pythian 11, the pronoun is followed by a clarifying appositive later in the sentence (Διὸς ἄλκιμος / υἱὸς).
[ back ] 136. The manuscripts have ἄρα, which in most current editions is emended to ἦρα since a heavy syllable is desired; see Braswell 1988:173-174 and De Kreij 2014 for discussion; Gentili 1995:128 and Liberman 2004:100 also read ἆρα.
[ back ] 137. Even if some members of the audience may not have known the episode well enough, the fact that something is fated (θέσφατον ἦν, 71) implies that it will happen.
[ back ] 139. ἔκπαγλος is most likely (through dissimilation *ἔκπλαγλος > ἔκπαγλος) from ἐκπλήσσω “expel,” “hunt.” If this is correct, the original sense of “outcast” might interact here with the more generic “terrible.” Pindar refers at once to the “terrible” hero and the “exiled” hero.
[ back ] 140. Most editions print ὃ δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ both here and in 383, but since I regard ὁ as referring to Ajax, I give ὁ δ᾽ ἄρ᾽, in this instance supported by the best manuscript (Venetus A gives ὁ δ᾽ἄρ᾽ in both 383 and 385).
[ back ] 141. Similar instances of ὁ δ᾽ ἄρα clearly marking frame recall in Iliad 2.268, 10.354, 19.367, 21.174, 21.246; Odyssey 5.392, 5.453, 19.447, 19.464, 20.275, 23.90.
[ back ] 144. Iliad 3.120, compare Iliad 5.836, 7.188, 7.416, 8.319, 10.374, 12.385, 13.192, 15.543, 16.413, 16.579, 16.742, 21.118; Odyssey 5.456, 8.450, 12.411, 12.413, 14.485, 15.98, 15.121 (this instance is special in the sense that it retrieves specific information that was added to the discourse memory in lines 102-104), 18.396.
[ back ] 145. Iliad 10.350; the boundary between common sense and traditional knowledge was probably fuzzy in the Greek world, but I would offer the following loci as parallels: Iliad 6.154 (genealogy), 17.196 (Achilles’ armor), 20.239 (genealogy), 21.189 (genealogy), 23.642 (the sons of Actor); Odyssey 11.257 (genealogy).
[ back ] 146. The one exception where ὁ δ᾽ ἄρα accompanies grammatical subject continuity is Iliad 11.426.
[ back ] 147. Namely Iliad 16.120 and Odyssey 24.182.
[ back ] 148. Iliad 12.380 (imperfect, see t34 above), 13.644 (imperfect), 22.470 (aorist); Odyssey 22.327 (aorist).
[ back ] 149. The parallel instances of ὅ(ς) ῥα + imperfect introducing unframed discourse are: Iliad 2.77, 2.752, 5.70, 5.612, 5.708, 6.18, 6.131, 11.123, 13.665, 15.431, 15.461, 16.178, 16.464, 16.572, 17.611; Odyssey 1.154, 2.225, 9.187, 16.396, 22.331. Sometimes with the pluperfect: Iliad 5.77, 12.445, 13.364, 17.350; Odyssey 24.445 or present: Iliad 15.411, 22.23, 22.27, 23.517; Odyssey 15.319, 22.403. The present tense is generally used with ἄρα when it occurs in the first part of a simile, see e.g. II.4 (t16).
[ back ] 150. The parallel instances of ὅ(ς) ῥα + aorist to effect frame recall are: Iliad 1.405, 10.318, 11.231, 15.584 (after an apostrophe of a character), 15.644, 17.72 (after ἔνθα κε…εἰ μή flash-forward), 23.384 (after καί νύ κε…εἰ μή flash-forward); Odyssey 10.158 (beginning of little narrative), 14.380, 20.291, 21.184.
[ back ] 151. See for another interpretation of ὅς ῥα (τε) Ruijgh 1971:432-443; he follows Hartung and Denniston and believes that ἄρα in this construction serves to mark a certain measure of surprise or interest on the part of the speaker.
[ back ] 152. Odyssey 12.281 is different: a present in direct speech which actually refers to the present.
[ back ] 153. Odyssey 10.158, 14.380. The only extant instance of ἄρα after a pronoun in Pindar is found in fr. 125.1 τόν ῥα, where it also appears to introduce an embedded narrative about how Terpander invented the bárbiton (note the aorist εὗρεν). See II.3.2.2 on γάρ beginning embedded narratives.
[ back ] 154. These are the only two instances of πατρὶ χολωθείς in Homer. Moreover, there is a strong phonetic resonance between Φυλεΐδης and Πολυφείδης; see Minchin 2001:88-90 for this kind of “auditory memory” in Homer.
[ back ] 155. Other instances of ὅ(ς) ῥα apparently introducing unframed discourse with the aorist: Iliad 5.612 (in direct speech), 5.650 (in direct speech), 6.158, 16.328; Odyssey 3.161 (in a σχέτλιος comment).
[ back ] 156. However, whether to read a pronoun as relative or demonstrative is always a subjective decision to some extent.
[ back ] 157. ὁ δή occurs four times in the Iliad and five times in the Odyssey, ὃς δή eight and ten times, respectively. See my discussion of those four instances in §69 below; also compare the plural 3.134 οἳ δὴ νῦν.
[ back ] 159. In Pindar this pattern does not hold, as τὸν δή in Pythian 11.17 starts a little embedded narrative.
[ back ] 160. In fact, even καί sometimes abandons its strict initial position (with scope over the act) for the sake of a pronoun, see IV.2 §70.
[ back ] 161. ὁ δή/ὃς δή (and because of its frequency I include neuter ὃ δή) with act scope is paralleled in Iliad 1.388 ὃ δὴ τετελεσμένος ἐστί (Achilleus about Agamemnon’s threat), 2.436 ἔργον ὃ δὴ θεὸς ἐγγυαλίζει, 17.202 ἆ δείλ’ οὐδέ τί τοι θάνατος καταθύμιός ἐστιν / ὃς δή τοι σχεδὸν εἶσι· (Zeus, as if to Hector); Odyssey 4.777 ἀλλ’ ἄγε σιγῇ τοῖον ἀναστάντες τελέωμεν / μῦθον, ὃ δὴ καὶ πᾶσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἤραρεν ἥμιν (Antinous about the suitors’ plan), 10.514 Κώκυτός θ’, ὃς δὴ Στυγὸς ὕδατός ἐστιν ἀπορρώξ (Circe to Odysseus), and 15.490 ἠπίου, ὃς δή τοι παρέχει βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε. Compare Pindar Isthmian 2.27 τὰν δὴ καλέοισιν.
[ back ] 162. See II.3.3.2n192 for scholars linking δή to perception or evidentiality. A similar link between δή and perception is drawn in III.2 §§73-79 for tragedy and comedy and in IV.4.5.2 for historiography.
[ back ] 163. Ten or eleven depending on the reading of Odyssey 2.16.
[ back ] 164. The parallels are Iliad 15.291 (ὃς δὴ πολλῶν), 2.117 (ὃς δὴ πολλάων), 9.24 (ὃς δὴ πολλάων). See II.3 §61n201 for more parallels of δὴ + πολύς and similar adjectives.
[ back ] 165. δὴ γάρ also often introduces personal viewpoints of some kind, see II.3 §62 and II.4 §19. For the concept of stance and for its relevance to the use of δή in Herodotus and Thucydides, see IV.4.4-6.
[ back ] 167. Compare the use of δή after τόσσον in Iliad 17.522, discussed in II.4 §§38-41.
[ back ] 168. Compare also ὅς δή in Odyssey 7.156; the line recurs in Odyssey 11.343 (about the same character), but is there omitted by many manuscripts.
[ back ] 169. The other instance is Odyssey 20.289, where ὅς δή τοι similarly forms a priming act, but where the visual component is not clearly present; Hainsworth 1993:186 notes the structural similarity of Iliad 10.314-318 and Odyssey 20.287-291.
[ back ] 170. Book ten of the Iliad is often called the Doloneia after this episode; see e.g. Danek 1988, Dué and Ebbott 2010, and Finkelberg 2011:I.216-217.
[ back ] 171. Compare in Homer for example Odyssey 17.256-257: αὐτίκα δ’ εἴσω ἴεν, μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι καθῖζεν,/ ἀντίον Εὐρυμάχου· τὸν γὰρ φιλέεσκε μάλιστα; “At once he went inside, and sat among the suitors, / across from Eurymachus; for him he liked most”; note especially the iterative φιλέεσκε which demonstrates the unframed nature of the act. The parallels in Pindar are Olympian 3.36, 6.25, 7.23, 9.28, 13.6; Pythian 4.281; Nemean 6.17; Isthmian 1.17.
[ back ] 172. By way of example, in Verdenius’ 1982 commentary on Isthmian 2 there are 138 lemmata, of which only 18 do not concern verbs, nouns, adjectives, or adverbs; 10 of these 18 lemmata concern particles. Out of the total 138, only 11 lemmata discuss problems concerning the referent of a (pro)noun or verb.
[ back ] 173. Bury 1892:26-37 offers an excellent introduction on the song’s context. Bury believes that there may have been an amorous connection between Pindar and the young Thrasyboulus (33), but he is not followed by Privitera 1982:29 or Verdenius.
[ back ] 174. Bury 1892:31 prefers the later date, Privitera 1982:27-28 the earlier; Verdenius 1982:1 proposes 472 BCE, but does not discuss the implications.
[ back ] 175. See II.1 §5 for the issue of the “I” persona in Pindar, and its relevance to questions of performance.
[ back ] 176. Athanassaki 2012:199 takes this presentation as emphasizing the audience’s reaction to Xenocrates’ and Nicomachus’ athletic feats in the games.
[ back ] 177. Frame shift always coincides with move transitions, but there may be (and often are) multiple moves between frame shifts. In IV.3 79, we use || to mark the boundaries between moves. Since the commentary concerns anaphoric reference, frame transitions are most important to mark.
[ back ] 178. LSJ s.v. πάλαι I.2.
[ back ] 179. See II.3 §§ 49-50 for asyndeton at move beginning.
[ back ] 181. I follow the reading of line 10 suggested by Verdenius 1982:9.
[ back ] 182. For a productive analysis of this passage, see Cairns 2011.
[ back ] 183. For parallels of demonstrative τό followed by a genitive, yielding the meaning “that of…” or “that pertaining to…,” see e.g. Euripides Ion 742 and Trojan Women 43.
[ back ] 184. Verdenius 1982:10.
[ back ] 185. Contra Bury 1892:42.
[ back ] 186. Unlike for other particles, Hummel 1993:410 does not offer any explanation for ὦν in Pindar.
[ back ] 187. LSJ s.v. σέλινον I.1.
[ back ] 188. See Bonifazi 2012:141-143; Bury 1892:43 also explains αὐτῷ with reference to Xenocrates’ recent death, but rather because the wreath was intended for Xenocrates himself, but once it arrived he was no longer alive to receive it.
[ back ] 189. Pindar appears to denote Athens alternately with and without the article. The extant instances do not show a clear pattern; I have here not translated the article to avoid awkward English.
[ back ] 190. Bury 1892:44 reads καὶ τόθι as forward looking, but retains τε and says that “τ᾽ connects τόθι and ταῖς λιπαραῖς ἐν Ἀθάναις ἀραρώς.” He translates: “And, both there and in rich Athens…” He offers no parallels of this use of καί…τε in Pindar, and he appears to translate καί twice: both as a sentence connective (“And…”) and as anticipating τε (“both…”); Hummel 1993:399 remarks that καί…τε only ever connects 3 items: X καί Y, Z τε.
[ back ] 191. Privitera 1982:36 adopts καὶ τότε, but reads it like me as effecting a transition. His reading is attested only in a scholion, and I see no need for the emendation (pace Privitera 1982:161 who calls καὶ τόθι “grottesco”).
[ back ] 192. Bury 1892:30-31. Both Xenocrates’ Pythian and Isthmian victories are mentioned in the 476 Olympian odes for Theron (Olympian 2 and 3), while his Athenian victory is not.
[ back ] 193. See II.4 §§58-61 about the rarity of so-called epic τε in Pindar.
[ back ] 194. See II.4 §66 about τε καί in Pindar: it is never used as a combination with sentence scope (pace Thummer 1969:II.44 and Verdenius 1982:20).
[ back ] 195. See IV.2.4.2 for this function of καί.
[ back ] 196. Bury 1892:45.
[ back ] 197. See Koier 2013:258-259.
[ back ] 198. In Pindar, δή occurs twice after a pronoun (here and in Pythian 11.17, I do not count Olympian 9.9 τὸ δή ποτε, since I believe that δή should there be taken with ποτε). In both cases it marks the introduction of a frame switch (into an embedded narrative at Pythian 11.17 and into unframed discourse at Isthmian 2.27). In Pythian 11.17 Pindar introduces the element that Arsinoe saved Orestes, which may have been an innovation by him. This could explain the intensification conveyed by δή.
[ back ] 199. As Bury 1892:45, contra Verdenius 1982:22.
[ back ] 200. Thummer 1969:II.45-46, Privitera 1982:162, and Verdenius 1982:23 believe it only refers to Xenocrates and Theron, and is purposely vague in order to imply that Xenocrates won at Olympia too.
[ back ] 201. Thummer 1969:II.46 and Verdenius 1982:24.
[ back ] 202. Bury 1892:46 construes τις with Ἑλικωνιάδων.
[ back ] 203. See II.2 §55 and II.3 §73 with note 241 for more on this function of μέν.
[ back ] 204. Thummer 1969:II.49 adduces Olympian 4.14-16 for the exact same sequence of particles.
[ back ] 205. Bury 1892:48.
[ back ] 206. Verdenius 1982:34.
[ back ] 207. Verdenius 1982:35.
[ back ] 208. Privitera 1982:166.
[ back ] 210. Bury 1892:49; other commentaries do not discuss the pronoun.

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§3

§10

§11

§12

§14

§18

§20

§23

§26

§27

§28

§29

§31

§33

§37

§38

§44

§46

§49

§51

§55

§58

§62

§63

§65
 §19

§72

§74

§75

§76

§77

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§79

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§81

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§84
 §59
 §49
 §14
 §19
 §69
 §70
 §61
 §62
 §19
 §5
 §66
 §55
 §73