3. Two Retardations: Telephus and Teuthrania; Iphigenia at Aulis

As the climactic sack of Troy will be delayed by various narrative strategies—the fetching to Troy of Neoptolemus, and of Philoctetes with the bow and arrows that once belonged to Heracles, the stealing of the palladium—so before the Trojan War proper could start, similar postponements were in operation. The device of narrative retardation has its roots in folktale (see G. Haas’s article s.v. “Retardiende Momente” in Enzyklopädie des Märchens 11.595–599) and is also employed by Homer (see M. Reichel, “Retardionstechniken in der Ilias,” in Der Übergang von der Mündlichkeit zur Literatur bei den Griechen, ed. W. Kullmann and M. Reichel [Tübingen 1990] 125–151). Cf. Davies, Aethiopis, 2n2. West (2013:106) calls the Greeks’ mistaking of Teuthrania for the far distant Troy a “silly story,” but the same could be said of the stories of Neoptolemus and Philoctetes. On the Teuthranian expedition see further Kullmann in Homeric Contexts: Neoanalysis and the Interpretation of Oral Poetry, ed. F. Rengakis, A. Montanari, and C. Tsagalis (Berlin 2012) 15–20.
Proclus Chrestomathia: ἔπειτα ἀναχθέντες Τευθρανίαι προσίσχουσι ταύτην ὣς Ἴλιον ἔπορθουν.

Then they put in at Teuthrania and began to ravage it under the impression that it was Troy.
The invasion of Teuthrania may well have originated as a doublet of the invasion of Troy. [1] As reconstructed from various sources the first shares many features in common with the second (initial repulse of the Greeks, intervention of Greek hero who drives enemy off until he is killed, restoration of Greek fortunes by Achilles’ pursuit of native champion, etc.). On these and further analogies see E. Howald, Der Dichter der Ilias (Zurich 1945) 125–126; Rhys Carpenter, Folk-Tale, Fiction, and Saga in the Homeric Epics (Berkeley 1946) 55–58. See further my article “Euripides Telephus fr. 49 (Austin) and the Folk-Tale Origins of the Teuthranian Expedition,” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 133 (2000): 7–10, which seeks to derive Telephus himself from the familiar folktale figure of the ambivalent helper. The discovery that the story was known as early as Archilochus (West, “Archilochus and Telephus,” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 156 [2006]: 11–17 = Hellenica 2.6–16) and thus considerably predates the Cypria, which cannot have invented it, seems to me to strengthen the case for this interpretation.
It has long been recognized that this element of diversification and the mul-tiplicity of adventures experienced by the Greeks before finally reaching Troy spring from the wish to avoid the monotony inherent in mere duplication of the ordinary battles that characterize the Iliad (cf. Welcker 2.136, Bethe 1929:233, Severyns 1928:55–58, etc.). We may not be quite so excited by the device as is Van der Valk (1963:252n751), who bases upon it his assertion that the Cypria’s author was “the most original poet of the Cyclici,” [2] but the technique is effective, nevertheless. Was it (as Van der Valk and numerous others [3] have assumed) the invention of the Cypria’s poet? For most scholars, to pose this question is to invite the implication that it was unknown to the Iliad. Not so, of course, for Kullmann, who quite rightly observes (1960:201) that the Teuthranian expedition’s status as a “doublet” tells us nothing about the date of its origin. But I am as unimpressed as was Page (review of Kullmann 1960 in Classical Review 11 [1961]: 207–208) by Kullmann’s attempt (1960:192–200) to show that, despite initial impressions, the whole tradition is darkly presupposed by several pas- sages in the Iliad. And I disagree occasionally with Page over the relative merits and demerits of the passages which Kullmann quotes. Thus I would not join him in singling out (pp. 207–208) the notorious difficulty in Iliad XXIV 765–766 (Helen says it is twenty years since she came to Troy) as “the only one of Kull-mann’s twelve passages which seems ... in favour of his theory.” This seems too generous a verdict: Iliad II 299–304 and the Cypria both exploited the motif of Calchas’ prophecy, as we have already seen (page 130 above). Presumably, then, the Cypria, like the Iliad, contained some such announcement as τῶι δεκάτωι δὲ πόλιν αἱρήσομεν εὐρυάγυιαν. It is hard to see how this could possibly be consistent with the elapse of a whole decade between the moment of prophecy and the arrival at Troy (“wenn man nach Troia kommt, wird der Kampf zehn Jahre dauern,” and “die zehn Jahre meinen nur die Zeit vor Troia,” claims Kullmann (1960:200, 201), quite unconvincingly.
I approve Page’s skepticism as to Kullmann’s other potentially relevant pas-sages, with the exception of Iliad I 106–108, interpreted by Kullmann (1960:198) and others [4] as perhaps alluding to the sacrifice of Iphigenia at Aulis. To detect a covert reference to this tradition in μάντι κακῶν, οὐ πώ ποτέ μοι τὸ κρήγυον εἶπας does not seem to me (as it does to Page) “most special pleading” (surely not as special as the pleading involved in Kullmann’s reading of Iliad II 299–304 in the light of XXIV 765–766). But since I do not accept Kullmann’s insistence (201) that the sacrifice of Iphigenia is indissolubly linked with the Teuthranian expedition, I can attribute to Homer knowledge (and suppression) of this tradition while reserving for the author of the Cypria the honor of having first introduced into epic the Teuthranian expedition and the Trojan War in the form that later became so familiar.
A final detail that can be segregated from the problem of whether the Iliad knew of the Teuthranian expedition. Like many scholars, Kullmann (1960:193–194) [5] cites Pindar Olympian IX 70–75 (with its description of Patroclus alone supporting Achilles amidst the rout induced by Telephus during the invasion of Teuthrania) and the famous cup by the Sosias Painter (Berlin F 2278: ARV 2 21.1 = LIMC I.1, s.v. “Achilleus” XIII b 468) from Vulci dating ca. 500 (depicting Achilles bandaging Patroclus’ wounds) and derives both from the Cypria. This may possibly be the case with Pindar, though we must not underrate the possibility that he has invented the relevant detail [6] (it would hardly have been difficult to excogitate it from the Iliad, and the passage is suspiciously nonspecific). The vase is surely nothing more than a genre scene: Achilles’ skill at healing is presupposed by Iliad XI 831–836. One should not conjure up for the Cypria a scene of Patroclus’ wounding on evidence so slender as this. [7]
Proclus Chrestomathia: Τήλεφος δὲ ἐκβοηθήσας Θέρσανδρόν τε τὸν Πολυνείκους κτείνει.

Telephus, sallying forth to defend his land, kills Thersander, the son of Polyneices.
Apollodorus Epitome 3.17: βασιλεύων δὲ Τήλεφος Μυσῶν, ‘Ηρακλέους παῖς, ἰδὼν τὴν χώραν λεηλατουμένην, τοὺς Μυσοὺς καθοπλίσας ἐπὶ τὰς ναῦς συνεδίωκε τοὺς Ἕλληνας καὶ πολλοὺς ἀπέκτεινεν, ἐν οἷς καὶ Θέρσανδρον τὸν Πολυνείκους ὑποστάντα (Telephus, king of the Mysians, son of Heracles, saw his land being laid waste, and arming the Mysians, chased the Greeks back to their ships. He killed many of them, including Thersander, son of Polyneices, who tried to withstand him).
According to a scholion on Juvenal VI 655 (p. 618 Wessner), Telephus swore that he and his descendants would not participate in the Trojan War, a detail that Kullmann (1960:213) tentatively derived from the Cypria.
In connection with this portion of the Cypria, P. Friedländer, “Kritische Untersuchungen zur Heldensage,” Rheinisches Museum 69 (1914): 326–327 (= Studien zur antiken Literatur und Kunst 40–41) referred to Pausanias IX 5.14, whose same tradition as to Thersander’s death is followed by the statement that his tomb is in Elaea, where the natives claim to sacrifice to him as a hero. Friedländer proceeded to draw significant conclusions as to the origins of the story in Elaea. For serious objections on principle to this sort of approach to myth see Burkert, Structure and History in Greek Mythology and Ritual, 79.
The death of Polyneices’ son may have been intended as a significant and programmatic marking–off of the Trojan War from the Theban exploits of the previous generation. The event may have been depicted on a calyx krater from ca. 510 (LIMC s.v. “Diomedes” [1] 7) showing Patroclus and Diomedes, the latter bending over a fallen warrior. The presence of Dionysus identifies the scene as the Greek invasion of Teuthrania (see page 201 below).
Proclus Chrestomathia: καὶ αὐτὸς [scil. Τηλέφος] ὑπὸ Ἀχιλλέως τιτρώσκεται.

And Telephus himself is wounded by Achilles.
Ernst Howald, Der Dichter der Ilias (Zurich 1946) 125–127 ingeniously argued that the story of Telephus as originally conceived had nothing to do with the Trojan War: Telephus was originally a Greek god, and the tale of his wounding was a variant of the motif of the wounding of the devil (cf. Thompson, Motif-Index G 303 16.19.19). When the tale was coupled with the expedition against Troy, its nature changed and it took the form now familiar from various sources. The form the tale occupied in the Cypria, and especially the connection with Achilles, is a late invention, [8] like most of the stories to do with Achilles. As Howald observes (p. 127), this is “weil vor Troia in den zehn Jahren des Krieges etwas geschehen musste.”
On Telephus in general see my remarks in the article cited page 136 above, “Euripides Telephus fr. 49),” and cf. L. A. Swift, “Telephus on Paros,” Classical Quarterly 64 (2014): 433–447.
Proclus Chrestomathia: ἀποπλέουσι δὲ αὐτοῖς ἐκ τῆς Μυσίας χειμών ἐπιπίπτει καὶ διασκεδάννυνται. Ἀχιλλεὺς δὲ Σκύρωι προσσχών γαμεῖ τὴν Λυκομήδους θυγατέρα Δηϊδάμειαν.

And as the Greek fleet sails off from Mysia, a storm swoops down on them and their forces are scattered. And Achilles puts in at Scyros and sleeps with Deidameia, daughter of Lycomedes.
The storm that scatters the Greek forces motivates the all-important visit of Achilles to the island where he fathers Neoptolemus upon Deidameia. For the verb γαμεῖν used, as here, of mere “sexual intercourse” rather than formal mar-riage see LSJ s.v. I 2. Cf. M. Fantuzzi, Achilles in Love: Intertextual Studies (Oxford 2012) 21–28.
F16 Pausanias
Pausanias X 26.4 (3.151 Rocha-Pereira)
τοῦ δὲ Ἀχιλλέως τῶι παιδὶ Ὅμηρος μὲν Νεοπτόλεμον ὄνομα ἐν ἁπάσηι οἱ τίθεται τῆι ποιήσει· τὰ δὲ Κύπρια ἔπη φησὶν ὑπὸ Λυκομήδους μὲν Πύρρον, Νεοπτόλεμον δὲ ὄνομα ὑπὸ Φοίνικος αὐτῶι τεθῆναι, ὅτι Ἀχιλ-λεὺς ἡλικίαι ἔτι νέος πολεμεῖν ἤρξατο.
As for Achilles’ son, Homer gives his name as Neoptolemus in all his poetry, but the epic Cypria says he was called Pyrrhus by Lycomedes, and Neoptolemus was the name given him by Phoenix, because Achilles began to fight in war while he was still young of age.
As K. Ziegler observes in his article on Neoptolemus in RE (16 [1935]: 2440.19–59), Pausanias’ claim that Homer never calls Achilles’ son anything but Neoptolemus should have consequences for the Ilias Parva and the Iliupersis as well as for the Iliad and the Odyssey. If we can trust Pausanias’ implication that he has read the first two as thoroughly as the second pair it is all the more striking that Pyrrhus’ name should be so consistently absent not only from the rest of the early epic tradition (and what epics could afford Achilles’ son more prominence that the Ilias Parva and Iliupersis?) but from all extant poetry prior to Theocritus Idyll XV 140. Quintus of Smyrna and Triphiodorus restrict themselves in true Homeric manner to Neoptolemus; Vergil (see R. G. Austin on Aeneid II 469) and Ovid allow themselves both names; most other Roman poets use only Pyrrhus. For a compendious presentation of the facts see Robert, Heldensage 1219 and n6. The name Πύρρος was generally explained as “fiery-haired” (e.g. Servius on Aeneid II 263 [2.393 ed. Harvard]: a capillorum qualitate), occasionally as connected with Achilles’ female pseudonym Pyrrha: details in Ziegler 2441.48–58. Νεοπτόλεμος was sometimes etymologized as referring to the youth of the name’s holder (so Servius as cited [quia ad bellum ductus est puer]; Σ D Iliad XIX 326: Νεοπτόλεμον κλήθεντα ὅστις τοῖς Ἕλλησι νέος ὢν συνεστρατεύσατο; Cicero De oratore 2.257. The Cypria’s explanation in terms of the youth of the hero’s father when he went to war [9] is found also in Σ ΑΤ Iliad XIX 326 (4.635 Erbse): ἀπὸ τοῦ πατρὸς ὠνόμαστι, ὅτι νέος ὢν ἐπολέμησεν as well as Philostratus Heroicus 199.1–2 ὀνομασθεὶς διὰ νεοτήτα τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως καθ᾽ ἥν ἐς τὸ πολεμεῖν ὥρμησεν. There is no antique justification for Robert’s interpretation of the name as “der Held des neuen Kriegs” (Heldensage 1218).
The custom of giving a child a name (or an alternative name) inspired by the qualities or fortunes or achievements or the like of one of its parents is implied by several passages in early Greek poetry. The statement at Iliad IX 561–564 that Marpessa was also called Halcyone because her mother wept, suffering like a halcyon when Apollo snatched her away, is deemed “ridiculous” by Page, History and the Homeric Iliad (Berkeley 1959) 328, but it and the present instance make sense in the light of lines such as Iliad VI 402–403 (τόν ῥ’ Ἕκτωρ καλέεσκε Σκαμάνδριον, αὐτὰρ οἱ ἄλλοι Ἀστυάνακτ᾽.| οἶος γὰρ ἐρύετο Ἴλιον Ἕκτωρ [cf. Iliad XXII 506–507]) or Ηomeric Ηymn to Aphrodite 198–199, where the goddess tells Anchises τῶι δὲ καὶ Αἰνείας ὄνομ᾽ ἔσσεται οὕνεκα μ’ αἴνον| ἔσχεν ἄχος ἕνεκα βροτοῦ ἀνέρος ἔμπεοον εὐνῆι. Other famous exemplifications of the practice include Telemachus (compare Odysseus’ words to Agamemnon at Iliad IV 353–455 ὄψεαι | Τηλεμάχοιο φίλον πατέρα προμάχοισι μιγέντα | Τρώων ἱπποδάμων) (Page again displays his ignorance of the principle at issue when he states [Folktales in Homer’s Odyssey (Cambridge, MA 1972) 36] that the first element of the name Τηλέ-μαχος is “certainly not ‘at a distance’ ”); Odysseus himself (named in his particular case from his grand-father’s fortunes: cf. Odys sey xix 405–409 τὴν δ’ αὖτ’ Ἀυτόλυκος ἀπαμείβατο φώνησέν τε· | “γαμβρὸς ἐμὸς θυγάτερ τε, τίθεσθ᾽ ὄνομ’ ὅττί κεν εἴπω· | πολλοῖσιν γὰρ ἐγώ γε ὀδυσσάμενος τόδ’ ἱκάνω, | ἀνδράσιν ἠδὲ γυναιξίν ἀνὰ χθόνα πουλυβότειραν· | τῶι δ’ Ὀδυσεὺς ὄνομ’ ἔστω ἐπώνυμον”); and Ajax’s son Eurysaces (Sophocles Ajax 574–576 ἀλλ᾽ αὐτό μοι συ, παῖ, λαβὼν ἐπώνυμον,| Εὐρύσακες, ἴσχε διὰ πολυρράφου στρέφων | πόρπακος ἑπτάβοιον ἄρρηκτον σάκος). Numerous other examples (most of them convincing) are assembled by M. Sulzberger in his article entitled “ΟΝΟΜΑ ΕΠΩΝΥΜΟΝ,” Révue des Études Grécques 39 (1926): 385–447. See too L. P. Rank, Etymologiseering en Verwante Verschijnselen bij Homerus (Assen 1951) 70, and pages 148 and 177 below. The idea is popular enough to be parodied in passing by Aristophanes at the start of his Clouds (line 65: cf. R. Kassel, Quomodo quibus locis apud veteres scriptores Graecos infantes atque parvuli pueri inducantur describantur commemorentur [Würzburg 1954] 68= Kleine Schriften 63: the point is not taken by Dover in his commentary on Aristophanes’ play, p. xxv). Analogies from more recent European folktales are cited by J. Th. Kakridis, Homeric Researches (Lund 1949) 31.
In the present case one should remember that father and son were probably in the first place “one and the same Thessalian god or hero. The distinction between them may have its origin in epic poetry” (Fontenrose, The Cult and Myth of Pyrrhos at Delphi [University of California Publications in Classical Archeology 4 (1960)] 207). The same scholar observes (p. 209) of the name Neoptolemus that it “appears to be an epithet of Achilles; and as often happened, the epithet became a separate legendary person.” Cf. E. Howald, Der Dichtung als Mythos (Zurich 1936) 42–45. In the absence of his father, Achilles’ son, like Odysseus as mentioned above, is given a name by his grandfather Lycomedes.
The relationship between Phoenix and Neoptolemus presupposed by this fragment is clearly similar to that between Phoenix and the infant Achilles as described by the former to the latter at Iliad IX 485–491. For other sources that represent Phoenix as “tutor” of the two heroes see Fontenrose 207n10.
Proclus Chrestomathia: ἔπειτα Tήλεφος κατὰ μαντείαν παραγενόμενον εἰς Ἄργος ἰάται Ἀχιλλεὺς ὡς ἡγεμόνα γενησόμενον τοῦ ἐπ’ Ἴλιον πλοῦ.

Then Telephus arrives at Argos, following the terms of an oracle, and Achilles heals him, on the understanding that he will guide them to Troy.
Apollodorus Epitome 3.20: Τήλεφος δὲ ἐκ τῆς Μυσίας, ἀνίατον τὸ τραῦμα ἔχων, εἰπόντος αὐτῶι τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος τότε τεύξεσθαι θεραπείας, ὅταν ὁ τρώσας ἱατρὸς γένηται, τρύχεσιν ἡμφιεσμένος εἰς Ἄργος ἀφίκετο, καὶ δεηθεὶς Ἀχιλλέως καὶ ὑπεσχημένος τὸν εἰς Τροίαν πλοῦν δεῖξαι θεραπεύεται ἀποξύσαντος Ἀχιλλέως τῆς Πηλιάδος μελίας τὸν ἰόν. θεραπευθεὶς οὖν ἔδειξε τὸν πλοῦν τὸ τῆς δείξεως ἀσφαλὲς πιστουμένου τοῦ Κάλχαντος διὰ τῆς ἑαυτοῦ μαντικῆς (Telephus with his incurable wound came from Mysia to Argos clad in rags after Apollo had told him that he would only be healed when his wounder became his healer. He beseeched Achilles and promised he would show them the right sea route to Troy once Achilles had scraped the rust from Peleus’ spear. So, being thus healed, he showed them the sea route and Calchas, by means of his mantic art, assured them of the infallible truth of this direction).
For the widespread notion of the wounder as healer see e.g. Thomson’s Motif-Index D 2161–410 and 2; Kost on Musaeus’ Hero and Leander 198–201; J. E. Fontenrose, The Delphic Oracle: Its Responses and Operations (Berkeley 1978) 78–79. For the unHomeric nature of such magical powers see Griffin 1977:48 = 369. The relative fullness of Apollodorus’ account may possibly derive from the Cypria. As Wagner observed (1891:190), the absence of any mention of the seizing of the infant Orestes strongly tells against any derivation from Euripides’ famous and influential Telephus, and there are further small discrepancies between the mythographer and the tragedian (Telephus comes to Argos in the former, to Mycenae in the latter [which makes Agamemnon say to Menelaus: Σπάρτην ἔλαχες, κείνην κόσμει·| τὰς δὲ Μυκήνας ἡμεῖς ἰδίαι (fr. 723 Kannicht)]).
Apollodorus has Achilles do the healing by scraping off the rust from his spear. In Euripides we read πριστοῖσι λόγχης θέλγεται ῥινήμασιν (fr. 132 Kannicht). The role attributed to Calchas in Apollodorus has its counterpart in Iliad I 70–72 (Κάλχας) ὃς ηἴδη τά τ’ ἐόντα τά τ’ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ’ ἐόντα, | καὶ νήεσσ’ ἡγήσατ’ Ἄχαιῶν Ἴλιον εἴσω τὴν διὰ μαντοσύνην, | τὴν οἱ πόρε Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων (seen by, for instance, Kullmann [1960:198] as a reference to this episode). According to Σ Α Iliad I 71 Homer has Calchas lead the Greeks to Troy, not Telephus as in οἱ νεώτεροι (who may include the Cypria’s author). Perhaps Homer was avoiding the alternative version’s folktale coloring (see van Thiel [2014] 1.62). Even the apparently Euripidean rags (see e.g. Nisbet and Hubbard, Horace Odes I 171: “Telephus’ rags were peculiar to Euripides”) have epic analogies: compare, for instance, Odysseus’ beggarly disguises.
Proclus Chrestomathia: καὶ τὸ δεύτερον ἠθροισμένου τοῦ στόλου ἐν Αὐλίδι, Ἀγαμέμνων ἐπὶ θηρῶν [10] βαλὼν ἔλαφον ὑπερβάλλειν ἔφησε καὶ τὴν Ἄρτεμιν.

And with the expedition gathered a second time at Aulis, Agamemnon, while hunting, hits a deer and says not even Artemis could ...
Apollodorus Epitome 3.21 (epit. Vat.): Κάλχας δὲ ἔφη μηνίειν τὴν θεὸν τῶι Ἀγαμέμνονι ὅτι τε βαλὼν ἔλαφον εἶπεν· ‘οὐδὲ ἡ Ἄρτέμις’ (Calchas said … Artemis was angry with Agamemnon because shooting a stag he had said, “Not even Artemis!”).
Apollodorus Epitome 3.21 (epit. Sabb.): ἔλεγε γὰρ [scil. Κάλχας] μηνίσαι Ἀγαμέμνονι τὴν θεόν, κατὰ μὲν τινας ἐπεὶ κατὰ θήραν ἐν Ἰκαρίωι βαλὼν ἔλαφον οὐ δύνασθαι σωτηρίας αὐτὴν τυχεῖν οὐδ’ Ἀρτέμιδος θελούσης (For Calchas said that Artemis was angry with Agamemnon, according to some, because, shooting a stag in a hunt in Icaria, he had said it could not have been saved even if Artemis had wished).
Wagner (1891:92) plausibly brought the third of these passages into line with the other two by suggesting that there the excerptor has filled up, on his own initiative and mistakenly, the sort of aposiopesis we find in the second (οὐδὲ ἡ Ἄρτεμις). [11] All three, then, represent the familiar motif of the mortal who boasts against the gods and thus brings ruin upon himself and his relatives. We find it as early as the Iliad (II 597 [Thamyris] and XXIV 607–608 [Niobe]) and the Odyssey (viii 228: Eurytus challenges Apollo to a shooting contest).
The same causation is to be found in several late authors: Hyginus Fabula 98 in venando cervam eius violavit superbiusque in Dianam locutus est; Callimachus Hymn to Artemis 26 οὐδὲ γὰρ Ἀτρεΐδης ὀλίγωι ἐπὶ κόμπασε μισθῶι; Nonnus Dionysiaca 13.115 νεβροφόνος βασιλεύς; Σ Euripides Orestes 658 (1.165 Schwartz) διὰ τὰς καυχήσεις Ἀγαμέμνονος τοξεύσαντος τὴν ἔλαφον καὶ εἰπόντος μηδ᾽ ἂν τὴν Ἄρτεμιν οὕτως βαλεῖν; Σ VA Ιliad I 108 (1.41 Erbse) καυχησάμενον εἰπεῖν οὐδὲ ἡ Ἄρτέμις οὕτως ἂν ἐτόξευσεν.
Sophocles Electra 566–569 borrows the Cypria’s motif but adds the crime of sacrilege incurred by hunting in Artemis’ grove: πατήρ ποθ’ οὑμός, ὡς ἐγὼ κλύω, θεᾶς | παίζων κατ’ ἄλσος ἐξεκίνησεν ποδοῖν | στικτὸν κεράστην ἔλαφον, οὐ κατὰ σφαγὰς | ἐκκομπάσας ἔπος τι τυγχάνει βαλών. Zielinski, Tragodumenon libri tres (Cracow 1925) 245, followed by Fraenkel, Aeschylus Agamemnon 2.98n2 plausibly argued that the original tale enshrined in the epic narrative, though omitted from Proclus’ summary, was this legend of sacrilege. We then have a close nexus of crime and punishment: “pro cerva-virgo” which is maintained in the Cypria’s account of Iphigenia’s rescue: “pro virgine-cerva.” See further my remarks in “ ‘Sins of the Fathers’: Omitted Sacrifices and Offended Deities in Greek Literature and the Folktale,” Eikasmos 21 (2010): 331–355. The boasting motif was a secondary detail, derived from the similar tales listed above, and grafted on to the original sacrilege theme. [12]
In Apollodorus Epitome 3.21, Calchas tells Agamemnon he must sacrifice that particular one of his daughters who is ἡ κρατιστεύουσα κάλλει. Wagner (1891:192) suggests this phrase preserves the original oracular obscurity of the Cypria’s account more accurately than Proclus’ very abbreviated remarks. But in fact the motif of the fairest as victim appears to represent a different and more primitive-seeming tradition quite separate from the Cypria’s: see my “Sins of the Fathers.”
Proclus Chrestomathia: μηνίσασα δὲ ἡ θεὸς ἐπέσχεν αὐτοὺς τοῦ πλοῦ χειμῶνας ἐπιπέμπουσα.

The goddess (Artemis) in anger sent a wind-storm upon them that hinders them from sailing.
Apollodorus Epitome 3.21: τὸν στόλον ἄπλοια κατεῖχε (Weather that made sailing impossible kept the expedition cooped up).
For the reality behind this story, i.e. that, then as now, ships will have been “subject to constant delays, occasioned in part … by winds” which “are likely to have been a serious problem” in real life, see Barrett, Greek Lyric, Tragedy, and Textual Criticism: Collected Papers, ed. M. L. West (Oxford 2007) 497n64. For the anger of Artemis see Finglass on Sophocles Electra 569.
As we saw above (page 143), Apollodorus’ Epitome prefers to mention the fleet’s delay first, only then explaining its cause by quoting Calchas on Artemis’ anger. The Cypria’s picture of the Greek expedition penned up by hostile winds is clearly identical with that presented by Aeschylus in his Agamemnon (at 147–149 Calchas prays concerning Artemis μή τινας ἀντιπνόους Δαναοῖς χρονίας ἐχενῆιδας ἀπλοίας | τεύξηι and at 192–196 we read the sequel: πνοαὶ δ’ ἀπὸ Στρυμόνος μολοῦσαι | κακόσχολοι, νηστίδες, δύσορμοι, | βροτῶν ἄλαι, | ναῶν <τε> καὶ πεισμάτων ἀφειδεῖς, | παλιμμήκη χρόνον τιθεῖσαι | τρίβωι κατέξαινον ἄνθος Ἀργείων. Scholars have come to the conclusion [13] that as many as two further variant traditions as to what befell the Greeks at Aulis were current in antiquity. But upon examination these variant versions transpire to have a very questionable claim to existence.
(i) Hesiod Works and Days 651–653:
                                         ἧι ποτ᾽ Ἀχαιοί
μείναντες χειμῶνα πολὺν σὺν λαὸν ἄγειραν
‘Ελλάδος ἐξ ἱερῆς Τροίην ἐς καλλιγύναικα.
According to West ad loc., “Hesiod’s phrase is most naturally taken to mean ‘waiting through the winter’ (differently 674–675 μένειv ... χειμῶν’ ἐπιόντα). The version he knew, then, told of a winter passed at Aulis while the army assembled, but not necessarily of any further delay.” Such an explanation, however, [14] fails to answer Mazon’s question (in his commentary [Paris 1914] ad loc.): why should the Greeks have come to Aulis to spend the winter? With Mazon, we may prefer Goettling’s translation “exspectantes dum desineret tempestas,” which rendering is perfectly compatible with the Cypria’s tradition.
(ii)  (a) Sophocles Electra 563–564:
ἐμοῦ δὲ τὴν κυναγὸν Ἄρτεμιν τίνος
ποινὰς τὰ πολλὰ πνεύματ’ ἔσχ’ ἐν Αὐλίδι.
   (b) Euripides Iphigenia in Τauris 10–16:
ἐνταῦθα γὰρ δὴ χιλίων ναῶν στόλον
‘Ελληνικὸν συνήγαγ’ Ἀγαμέμνων ἄναξ
τὸν καλλίνικον στέφανον Ἰλίου θέλων
λαβεῖν Ἀχαιοῖς, τούς θ’ ὑβρισθέντας γάμους
‘Ελένης μετελθεῖν, Μενέλεωι χάριν φέρων.
δεινῆς τ’ ἀπλοίας πνευμάτων τ’ οὐ τυγχάνων
εἰς ἔμπυρ’ ἦλθε, καὶ λέγει Κάλχας τάδε.
Against the attempts of the young Housman (“Soph. El. 564 and Eur. IT 15 and 35,” in Classical Review 1 [1887]: 240–241 = Classical Papers 1.10–12) to remove the references to the becalmed host from the two passages by emending Sophocles Electra 563–564 to τίνος ποινὰς τὰ πλοῖα πνεύματ’ ἔσχ’ ἐν Αὐλίδι [15] and Euripides Iphigenia in Tauris 15–16 to νήστει δ’ ἀπλοίαι πνευμάτων τ’ οὐ τυγχάνων | εἰς ἔμπυρ’ ἦλθε, see for the first passage Finglass on 564 and Diggle, “Housman’s Greek,” in Hesperos (M. L. West Festschrift [Oxford 2007]) 147–149 and for the second passage Diggle, 149–150. Housman might have noted besides that since Sophocles proceeds (lines 566–572) to reproduce the Cypria’s explanation of Artemis’ anger against Agamemnon, it is hard to see why he should have departed from the same epic’s account of that anger’s consequences.
Of the other authorities who, according to Jebb, “speak of a calm,” Euripides Iphigenia in Aulis 9–11 οὔκουν φθόγγος γ’ οὔτ’ ὀρνίθων | οὔτε θαλάσσης· σιγαὶ δ’ ἀνέμων | τόνδε κατ’ Εὔριπον ἔχουσιν could well refer to a normal calm at sea before the dawn. His “Schol. Euripides Orestes 647 ἐπειράθη τῆς θεοῦ ὀργιζομένης καὶ κατεχούσης τοὺς ἀνέμους” is not to be found in Schwartz’s edition, where, however, we do find (on 658) the phrase ἀπλοίας ἐπεχούσης τοὺς Ἕλληνας (see below). His “Tzetzes on Lycophron 183 χολωθεῖσα δ᾽ ἐπὶ τούτωι ἡ θεὸς τοὺς ἀνέμους κατέσχεν” is likewise not present in the most modern edition of that work; what we read there is (2.91 Scheer): καχασχεθέντων τῶν ἀνέμων ἐν τῶι διάγειν τοὺς Ἕλληνας ἐν Αὐλίδι. To Jebb’s passages can be added Servius on Aeneid II 116 (2.351 ed. Harvard) dea irata flatus ventorum qui ad Troiam ducebant suspendit. But the phrasing here may well help explain the apparant unanimity as to a calm which these later sources exhibit. For, in the abbreviated prose of these late mythographical summaries, it is very difficult to distinguish between the suspension of favorable winds and the suspension of all winds. Note in particular the wording of Σ Euripides Orestes 658 (1.165 Schwartz): οὐ πνέοντος οὐρίου ἀνέμου διὰ τὰς καυχήσεις Ἀγαμέμνονος. Compare my remarks above on the meaning behind Iphigenia in Tauris 15–16. There is further scope for confusion between the holding back of the winds and the holding back of the fleet at Aulis. Compare Hyginus Fabula 98.1 in Aulide tempestas eos ira Dianae retinebat, Σ Euripides Orestes (cited above) ἀπλοίας [16] ἐπεχούσης τοὺς Ἕλληνας.
Thus, even if the late testimonia which picture a becalmed fleet do not derive from already corrupted tragic texts, they could still owe their information to a misunderstanding—engendered by excessively elliptical and compressed phrasing—as to what exactly Artemis “held in check” at Aulis.
F17 Scholion on Sophocles Electra
Σ LV r (G) Sophocles Electra 157 (p. 137 sq. Xenis)
“οἵα Χρυσόθεμις ζώει καὶ Ἰφιάνασσα”· ἢ Ὁμήρωι [Iliad IX 144 = 286] ἀκολουθεῖ [scil. Σοφοκλῆς] εἰρηκότι [ζῆν om. GI: add. VG] τὰς τρεῖς (LV: τὰς G: τρεῖς τὰς coni. Lascaris] θυγατέρας τοῦ [om. G] Ἀγαμέμνονος, ἢ ὡς 〈ὁ〉τὰ Κύπρια [ποίησας add. ed. Iuntina sed cf. F26] δʹ [διαφόρους Elmsley, τέσσαρας, id est δ unde δύο coni. Wansink] φησίν, Ἰφιγένειαν καὶ Ἰφιάνασσαν [Ἰφ. καἱ Ἰφ. del. Lascaris].
“As Chrysothemis lives, and Iphianassa”; … or, as the author of the Cypria says, Iphigenia and Iphianassa.
τέσσαραϛ has been amended to διαφόρουϛ or δύο. Either conjecture presupposes for manuscripts a use of Greek letters as abbreviations for numbers so frequent and casual that the corruption would pass unnoticed and uncorrected. In fact, this use seems to have been extremely rare: see E. G. Turner, Greek Manuscripts of the Ancient World (Oxford 1971) 18–19, with the review by N. G. Wilson, Classical Review 24 (1974): 92.

The Daughters of Agamemnon

For a brief bibliography of discussions relevant to this fragment see H. Hommel, Der Gott Achilleus (Sitzungsberichte der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften, phil.-hist. Klasse 1 [1980]) 1.34n94. Cf. Finglass on Sophocles Electra 157.
In attributing three daughters to Homer’s Agamemnon, our source is obviously thinking of Iliad IX 145 = 287 (cf. van Thiel 2014:1.335), where we find listed three daughters of Agamemnon all available for marriage to Achilles:
Χρυσόθεμις καὶ Λαοδίκη καὶ Ἰφιάνασσα.
The main problem raised by this rather eccentric list concerns the identity (or otherwise) of Iphianassa and Laodice with respect to the more familiar Iphi-genia and Electra of later writers. Four daughters, with Iphianassa and Iphigenia as two separate entities, are presupposed not merely by the present fragment of the Cypria but by the line of Sophocles upon which it comments: Electra 157 οἵα Χρυσόθεμις ζώει καὶ Ἰφιάνασσα. If Iphianassa is still alive so long after the Trojan War, she cannot have been sacrificed by her father at Aulis. See also from this play 530–532: ἐπεὶ πατὴρ οὗτος σὸς, ὃν θρηνεῖς ἀεί, | τὴν σὴν ὅμαιμον μοῦνος ‘Ελλήνων ἔτλη | θῦσαι θεοῖσιν (Iphigenia is not actually named in the play). [17] The same naturally applies to the Iliadic Iphianassa, who is still alive and ripe for marriage in the ninth year of the Trojan War.
In spite, then, of all attempts to equate the two, [18] both ancient (Hesychius s.v. Ἰφιάνασσα [2.382 Latte]: οἱ νεώτεροι ταύτην Ἰφιγένειαν λέγουσιν and cf. Lucretius I 85 [Agamemnon sacrifices Iphianassa at Aulis [19] ]) and modern (Hom-mel, Gott Achilleus) the identification of the one sister with the other is not guaranteed by the mere similarity of their names. That similarity may, however, imply that one name was modeled on the other, and it does not preclude an awareness on Homer’s part of the story of Iphigenia in spite of the contrary opinion of Aristarchus (as preserved in Σ Α Iliad IX 145 [2.428 Erbse]: οὐκ οἶδε τὴν παρὰ τοῖς νεωτέροις σφαγὴν Ἰφιγενείας; cf. Severyns 1928:215–218). I agree with, for instance, Kullmann (1960:199 and “Die Töchter Agamemnons in der Ilias,” Gymnasium 72 [1965]: 201 = Homerische Motive 65) that a passage like Iliad I 106–108 probably implies a knowledge of the sacrifice at Aulis and that the idea of Achilles’ marriage to a daughter of Agamemnon at Iliad IX 144–147 may presuppose the deceitful offer of marriage to Iphigenia made to Achilles in the Cypria and elsewhere (cf. Hommel: 137; it is not necessary to follow Kullmann’s further assertion [1960:201] that Iphigenia and the Teuthranian expedition imply each other: see page 142 above). But the sacrifice of a young girl is precisely the sort of detail Homer excludes from his narrative (see Murray, The Rise of the Greek Epic 4 [Oxford 1934] 131; Griffin 1977:44 = 375) and the rather sinister role of Electra in the retributive murders within the family of Atreus can hardly have been more congenial to this viewpoint. I am therefore attracted to A. Heubeck’s notion (“Zur neueren Homerforschung,” Gymnasium 71 [1964]: 63; cf. Kullmann’s reply Gymnasium 72 (1965): 201–202 = Homerische Motive, 65–66) that at Iliad IX 145 (= 287) Homer deliberately replaces Electra and Iphigenia with Laodice and Iphianassa, and that the similarity between the latter names in each pair further emphasizes the exclusion of the sacrifice story from Homer’s poetic world. For the scholion’s argument to work, the Cypria’s author must have regarded Electra as the same person as Laodice: οἱ νεώτεροι indeed identified Laodice with Electra.
This hypothesis seems confirmed, not weakened, by the fact observed in Σ ΑΤ Iliad IX 145 (2.428 Erbse): οἰκεῖα θυγατράσι βασιλέως τὰ ὀνόματα· τρία γὰρ συνέχει τὴν ἀρχήν, νόμος ὀρθός, ἔπειτα κρίσις καὶ ἰσχύς. The etymological appropriateness of the three daughters’ names in Homer is accepted by, for instance, V. Ehrenberg, Die Rechtsidee im frühen Griechentum (Leipzig 1921; repr. 1966) esp. 1 (“Die Töchter, im Mythos zunächst ohne Eigenleben, sind nur da, um den Vater zu charakterisieren, gewinnen Gestalt ausschliesslich aus seiner Sphäre, sind Symbole seiner Herrscherstellung”: cf. 54, 81, 127–128) and Kullmann 1960:202. But I fail to see why these two scholars should at once proceed to the further conclusion that these appropriate names must be “old.” Surely the exact opposite proclaims itself as likelier: Homer has himself invented these melodious names as an ad hoc inducement to Achilles (on invented names in Homer see Davies, TΕ, 35–36). For a similar case see Homeric Hymn to Demeter 109–110 Καλλιδίκη καὶ Κλεισιδίκη Δημώ τ’ ἐρόεσσα | Καλλιθόη and Richardson ad loc.), and also Aglauros, Herse. and Pandrosos, the daughters of Cecrops (cf. West 1985:104n165). Iphianassa will therefore be modeled on Iphigenia and not (as Hommel) the other way round. In other words, Agamemnon originally had two daughters, Electra and Iphigenia, and Homer replaces the last two with Laodice and Iphianassa and adds Chrysothemis. It is hard to believe that this third daughter ever belonged to the original scheme (as e.g. Heubeck supposes), since Chrysothemis has nothing to do in the story of the House of Atreus until Sophocles makes her an “all too human” foil to Electra, a duplicate of his Ismene. Chrysothemis is conspicuous by her absence from Euripides Electra 14–15 (οὓς δ᾽ ἐν δόμοισιν ἔλιφ᾽ ὅτ᾽ ἐς Τροίαν ἔπλει, | ἄρσενά τ᾽ Ὀρέστην θῆλύ τ᾽ Ἠλέκτρας θάλος, ) and Ιphigeneia in Τauris 562 (λέλοιπεν [scil. Ἀγαμέμνων] Ἠλέκτραν γε παρθένον μίαν) but unexpectedly appears in Orestes 23 (παρθένοι ... τρεῖς … Χρυσόθεμις, Ἰφιγένεια τ’ Ἠλέκτρα τ’ ἐγώ) and seems implied at Iphigenia in Aulis 1164 (τίκτω δ’ ἐπὶ τρισί παρθενοισὶ παῖδα), in a passage probably not by Euripides (see D. Kovacs, “Towards a Reconstruction of Iphigenia in Aulis,” Journal of Hellenic Studies 123 [2003]: 96). This has led some scholars [20] to suppose that Sophocles’ Electra was produced after the first two and before the second two Euripidean plays just mentioned. However that may be, Chrysothemis’ name is as etymologically appropriate as the other two sisters Homer gives her and they must all have the same source. The Cypria’s poet (as Heubeck saw) seeks to reconcile the Homeric invention with the preexisting tradition by taking over the Iliad’s three girls and adding Iphigenia. Awkward as this reconstruction may be for Kullmann’s preconceived notions about the relationship of the two poems (see pages 4–5 above), it offers the most coherent explanation of the available phenomena.
Proclus Chrestomathia: Κάλχαντος δὲ εἰπόντος τὴν τοῦ θεοῦ μῆνιν ... καὶ Ἰφιγένειαν κελεύσαντος θύειν τῆι Ἀρτέμιδι.

Calchas announces the goddess’ anger ... and bids the Greeks sacrifice Iphigenia to Artemis.
Calchas presumably made this demand for sacrifice publicly before the assembled host (as he publicly proclaims the cause of Apollo’s anger in Iliad book I). The notion of his doing so privately to Agamemnon and a few confidants as in Euripides’ Iphigenia in Aulis probably derives from a post-Euripidean interpolation: see Kovacs, “Reconstruction of Iphigenia in Aulis,” 82.
Several scholars have assumed that Agamemnon’s initial reaction to Calchas’ announcement was very closely related to his response to the same seer at Iliad I 106–108:
μάντι κακῶν, οὐ πώ ποτέ μοι τό κρήγυον εἶπας·
αἰεί τοι τὰ κάκ᾽ ἐστὶ φίλα φρεσὶ μαντεύεσθαι,
ἐσθλὸν δ’ οὔτε τί πω εἶπας ἐπὸς οὔτ’ ἐτέλεσσας.
So, for instance, Kullmann 1960:198 or (even more emphatically) West in “Where Eagles Dare,” Classical Quarterly 29 (1979): 5 = Hellenica 2.221 (“we may take it as certain that Calchas’ exposition of the cause and cure of Artemis’ anger in that epic ... was followed by a speech from Agamemnon similar in tone”). [21]
Proclus Chrestomathia: ὡς ἐπὶ γάμον αὐτὴν [scil. Ἰφιγένειαν] μεταπεμψάμενοι.

They send for Iphigenia under the pretext of her marriage.
Apollodorus Epitome 3.22: πέμψας Ἀγαμέμνων πρὸς Κλυταιμήστραν Ὀδυσσέα καὶ Ταλθύβιον Ἰφιγένειαν ἤιτει, λέγων ὑπεσχῆσησθαι δώσειν αὐτὴν Ἀχιλλεῖ γυναῖκα μισθὸν τῆς στρατείας (Agamemnon, sending Odysseus and Talthybius to Clytemnestra, required the presence of Iphigenia, claiming that he had promised to marry her to Achilles as price for his taking part in the expedition).
See S. Aretz, Die Opferung der Iphigenia im Aulis: Die Rezeption des Mythos in antiken und modernen Dramen (Stuttgart 1999), esp. 47–51 on Homer and the Cypria.
This motif of the pretended marriage was also exploited by Stesichorus (see Davies and Finglass on fr. 178). Fraenkel, Aeschylus Agamemnon 3.719 gives a useful bibliography of the scholars who have accepted the authenticity of this detail within the scheme of the Cypria. Fraenkel himself, having established that Sophocles and Euripides employed the motif in plays extant (Iphigenia in Tauris 371: δόλωι) and largely lost (cf. Fraenkel 719–720n3), argued strongly that Aeschylus had chosen not to introduce it into the Oresteia.
Proclus Chrestomathia: θύειν ἐπιχειροῦσιν Ἀρτεμις δὲ αὐτὴν ἐξαρπάσασα εἰς Tαύρους μετακομίζει καὶ ἀθανατον ποιεῖ, ἔλαφον δὲ ἀντὶ τῆς κόρης παρίστησι τῶι βωμῶι.

They try to sacrifice (Iphigenia), but Artemis snatches her up and conveys her to the Taurians and makes her immortal and sets up a deer in her place on the altar.
On this sequence of events see Davies and Finglass on Stesichorus fr. 178 and my article “ ‘Sins of the Fathers’: Omitted Sacrifice and Offended Deities in Greek Literature and the Folk-Tale,” Eikasmos 21 (2010): 331–358.


[ back ] 1. For Teuthrania as a land, not a city, see Friedländer, “Kritische Untersuchungen zur Heldensage,” Rheinisches Museum 69 (1914): 326n2 = Studien zur antiken Literatur und Kunst 41n56.
[ back ] 2. Compare Welcker 2.136: “Die grosste Bereicherung der Geschichte ist die durch den Teuthra-nischen Krieg.”
[ back ] 3. See Welcker 2.136.
[ back ] 4. See Davies and Finglass on Stesichorus fr. 181a.
[ back ] 5. Some bibliography in Kullmann 1960:194n4: add e.g. Rzach 1922:2388.29–36 and M. C. Van der Kolf, Quaeritur quomodo Pindarus fabulas tractaverit quidque in eis mutarit (Rotterdam 1933) 105; and Kossatz-Diessmann in LIMC I.1, s.v. “Achilleus” XIII b 468.
[ back ] 6. Cautiously suggested by Wilamowitz, Pindaros (Berlin 1922) 352, who cites Achilles’ remark to Patroclus at Iliad XVI 89 as a possible germ of inspiration, but does not rule out a model in the Cypria.
[ back ] 7. Rhys Carpenter, Folk Tale, Fiction, and Saga, 55–57 accepts the detail as part of a series of watered-down doublets of Iliadic events: “It seems that (precisely as happens in the Iliad) the Greeks after landing were driven back to their ships, that Patroclus came to the rescue and repulsed the enemy, but in the encounter was wounded, thereby motivating the intervention of Achilles who (as in the Iliad) singled out and pursued the native champion.”
[ back ] 8. Kullmann (1960:224) perversely and unnecessarily infers from the discussion by Howald, Der Dichter der Ilias, that “Ursprunglich spielte Achill in der Sage überhaupt nur in Teuthranien eine Rolle, dann brachte man ihn mit dem troischen Krieg in Verbindung.”
[ back ] 9. This would seem to rule out E. Howald’s idea (Der Mythos als Dichtung [Zurich 1936] 43) that the name “Pyrrhus” was the invention of some “pedantic poet” who thought that Neoptolemus should not be so called until he went to battle.
[ back ] 10. Severyns proposes his conjecture (and defends it as superior to previous attempts to heal) in Recherches sur la Chréstomathie de Proclos 203–204 (cf. his Texte et Apparat 128–129). The manuscripts have ἐπὶ θήραν. Tzetzes’ and Heyne’s <ἐξίὼν καὶ> βαλὼν supplies a much-needed verb of motion but in a rather uneconomical manner. Bekker’s popular ἐπὶ θήρας provides the same meaning as Severyn’s emendation (“in venatione”), but Severyns finds the confusion between -αν and -ων more common than that between -αν and –ας.
[ back ] 11. He was perhaps influenced (so Zielinski, Tragodumenon libri tres [Cracow 1925] 244n1) by the phraseology of Odyssey ix 525 (Odysseus’ vaunt against Polyphemus): ὡς οὐκ ὀφθαλμόν γ’ ἰήσεται οὐδ’ ἐνοσίχθων. Note also Capaneus’ boast at Aeschylus Seven against Thebes 428 and Euripides Phoenissae 1175.
[ back ] 12. Further bibliography of those who accept or reject the notion of the Cypria’s use of the sacrilege motif in Fraenkel, Aeschylus Agamemnon 2.97–98.
[ back ] 13. Cf. Robert, Heldensage 1099–1100.
[ back ] 14. This was first advanced by van Lennep (“cum (ibi) hiemem mansissent”) in his commentary (Amsterdam 1847).
[ back ] 15. τὰ πλοῖ᾽ ἀπνεύματα iam Frölich.
[ back ] 16. For other occurrences of the word ἀπλοία in this context see Robert, Heldensage 1099n2.
[ back ] 17. This meets the objection raised by A. P. Fitton-Brown, “Four Notes on Sophocles,” Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society 12 (1966): 28–29, who supposes that our scholion’s wording would entail the belief that Sophocles could simultaneously remember and forget the existence of Iphigenia. Rather, the scholion has merely forgotten the existence of lines 530–551 of the play. Wilamowitz, “Die beiden Elektren,” Hermes 18 (1883): 216 = Kleine Schriften 6.163n2 found Sophocles’ “zwecklose Einführung der dritten Tochter … geradezu anstössig.”
[ back ] 18. Euripides Orestes 22–23 (ὧι [scil. Ἀγαμέμνονι] παρθένοι μὲν τρεῖς ἔφυμεν ἐκ μιὰς | Χρυσόθεμις Ἰφιγένεια τ᾽ Ἡλέκτρα τ᾽ ἐγώ) may simply be omitting the obscure Iphianassa (rather than equating her with Iphigenia as Σ ad loc. [1.99 Schwartz] assumes).
[ back ] 19. Commentators ad loc. usually assume that Lucretius was here misled by homoeonomy, but such remarks as Hesychius’ remind us that the detail might derive from a Greek author. On Iphimede as an alternative name for Iphigenia see Davies and Finglass on Stesichorus fr. 178.
[ back ] 20. For instance, M. Mayer, “De Euripidis Mythopoeia capita duo” (diss. Berlin 1883) 35n43; A. S. Owen, “The Date of the Electra of Sophocles,” in Greek Poetry and Life (Murray Festschrift [1936]) 145–146.
[ back ] 21. It follows from West’s interpretation that Aeschylus Agamemnon 186 (μάντιv οὔτινα ψέγων) is an indication that “Aeschylus has the Cypria in mind and is changing the story.” Cf. Fraenkel’s remarks ad loc. (2.115).