Bonifazi, Anna, Annemieke Drummen, and Mark de Kreij. 2016. Particles in Ancient Greek Discourse: Exploring Particle Use across Genres. Hellenic Studies Series 79. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies. http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hul.ebook:CHS_BonifaziA_DrummenA_deKreijM.Particles_in_Ancient_Greek_Discourse.2016.
II.2 Discourse acts: The domain of particle analysis
500 ἔνθεν ἑλών, ὡς οἱ μὲν ἐϋσσέλμων ἐπὶ νηῶν
βάντες ἀπέπλειον, πῦρ ἐν κλισίῃσι βαλόντες,
taking up the tale where the Argives had embarked on their benched ships
and were sailing away, after casting fire on their huts (…)
Murray’s pleasant translation tells the story adequately, but it obscures the original word order. In the translation the reader is given a neat sentence, which begins before this excerpt and continues after it. It is worth comparing the punctuation in the Greek (from Von der Mühll’s edition) to that in the English translation. Although the placement of some commas corresponds in the two texts, there are discrepancies. First of all, in the translation there is a comma after “the minstrel,” which allows the reader to focus on the new source of the upcoming discourse, but this comma is left out in the Greek.  Conversely, Von der Mühll prints a comma before ὡς, but Murray leaves it out before the corresponding “where” in the translation.
starting from there, where they, on their well-benched ships,
sailed off on their way, having thrown fire on their tents,
If the Greek audience truly needed the subject from line 502 to complete the construction begun in line 500, one would have to conclude that in performance this text would become rather unsuccessful. In fact, the nominative follows at a point where the audience would have been expected to already know who the story was about; it must therefore be regarded as serving another function. My translation focuses on the articulation of discourse in separate acts, each of which serves at least one purpose in furthering the discourse.
2.1.1 Kôlon, intonation unit, discourse act
2.1.2 Distinguishing potential discourse acts
Pierre went out despite the rain
(2) Pierre est sorti bien qu’il pleuve.
Pierre went out even though it’s raining
The only apparent difference between these two examples is that in (1) the concessive is expressed through an adverbial phrase, whereas in (2) it takes the form of a subclause. The Geneva School regards both of these discourses as consisting of two acts, whereas Hannay and Kroon agree with them only if the prepositional phrase is realized as a separate intonation or punctuation unit.  The deciding factor, then, is performance: whatever the linguistic form of the text, the speaker decides what to present as separate intonation units, and thus as separate discourse acts.  In the following analysis of discourse acts in Homer and Pindar, any marking of discourse division necessarily represents a conjecture about the work’s realization in performance: we cannot fully reconstruct how the text was intended to be realized, and we can never establish how it was actually realized. Any division we propose, then, can only be into potential discourse acts, parallel to Lauer’s potentielle Kola.  To this we would add one caveat, posited by Bright: factum valet “an action otherwise prohibited by rule is to be treated as correct if it happens nevertheless.”  Bright’s general observation may be extended to the idea of a prescriptive definition: whatever definition of discourse act we establish, actual discourse will always prove it inadequate—there is simply no limit to linguistic creativity.
2.2 Discourse acts in Homer
φάνη βιότοιο τελευτή· /
ἤντετο γάρ τοι Φοῖβος
ἐνὶ κρατερῇ ὑσμίνῃ /
ὃ μὲν τὸν ἰόντα κατὰ κλόνον
οὐκ ἐνόησεν, /
ἠέρι γὰρ πολλῇ
κεκαλυμμένος ἀντεβόλησε· / (790)
κλισίῃσιν ἐν Ἀτρεΐδαο γένοντο, /
τοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσεν
ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων /
ὑπερμενέϊ Κρονίωνι /
One of the contentions in Bakker’s Poetry of Speech is that what Chafe and others call intonation units have their stylized counterpart in metrical kôla in Homer, generally about half a line long. Like intonation units, the metrical kôla that make up the hexameter are a few words long, probably reflecting “the amount of information that is active at one time in a speaker’s consciousness.”  Working from this view, Bakker divides each line in the examples above into two “chunks,” which he assumes to have been “a prosodic, intonational reality.”  Each line above represents one intonation unit, and the slash (/) marks verse end. In positing a boundary Bakker takes two factors into account: first the meter, second the content of phrases.
ἠέρι γὰρ πολλῇ ¦ κεκαλυμμένος ἀντεβόλησε·
Feminine B caesura:
ἔνθ’ ἄρα τοι, Πάτροκλε, ¦ φάνη βιότοιο τελευτή·
Beyond this mid-verse metrical break, there are two further frequently occurring breaks: A caesura (ninety percent of verses), in the first foot or after the first syllable of the second foot, and C caesura (eighty-six to eighty-seven percent), either between the fourth and fifth foot (called “bucolic diaeresis”) or after the first syllable of the fourth foot. The common metrical breaks are also points where syntactical and sense breaks typically occur, which brings us back to Bakker’s intonation units, or chunks, and our discourse acts. Bakker’s analyses demonstrate that the mid-verse caesura in particular often serves as a place for a sense boundary. On the other hand, this need not be the case, and even the strong metrical break of verse end does not always coincide with the end of a discourse act.  Edwards, who anticipated some of Bakker’s points, bases his analysis of the Homeric verse into four units on Hermann Fraenkel’s observations.  Edwards argues for a strict correlation between metrical boundaries and sense units, clear linguistic evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, leading to divisions such as | ὃ δὲ τὸν μέν | ἔασε |. 
κλισίῃσιν ἐν Ἀτρεΐδαο γένοντο, /
Bakker keeps οἱ δ᾽ ὅτε δή together, despite the position of δή, yet divides after δή, even though it means dividing the temporal conjunction ὅτε from its clause.  Bakker’s reason for dividing after δή in (t7) is that the particle occurs right before a common position of the A caesura, the trithemimeris.  However, οἱ δ᾽ is an important separate cognitive act, and therefore I propose to divide directly after.  This boundary coincides with another variant of the A caesura, and similar breaks occurs elsewhere in Homer; see also (t8).  In (t7) the feminine B caesura (marked by ¦) does not coincide with a discourse act boundary: a metrical break is an attractive place for an act boundary, but it does not entail an act boundary. In the excerpts from Homer given here and in other chapters, discourse act boundaries will be seen to regularly coincide with one of the three common metrical breaks in the hexameter, or with verse end.
κεῖτ’ | ἀπομηνίσας Ἀγαμέμνονι ποιμένι λαῶν |
Ἀτρεΐδῃ· | λαοὶ δὲ | παρὰ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης |
δίσκοισιν τέρποντο | καὶ  αἰγανέῃσιν ἱέντες |
775 τόξοισίν θ’· | ἵπποι δὲ | παρ’ ἅρμασιν οἷσιν ἕκαστος |
λωτὸν ἐρεπτόμενοι | ἐλεόθρεπτόν τε σέλινον |
ἕστασαν· | ἅρματα δ’ εὖ πεπυκασμένα κεῖτο | ἀνάκτων
ἐν κλισίῃς· | οἳ δ’ | ἀρχὸν ἀρηΐφιλον ποθέοντες |
φοίτων ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα κατὰ στρατὸν | οὐδὲ μάχοντο. |
780 οἳ δ’ ἄρ’ ἴσαν | ὡς εἴ τε πυρὶ χθὼν πᾶσα νέμοιτο· |
γαῖα δ’ ὑπεστενάχιζε | Διὶ ὣς τερπικεραύνῳ |
χωομένῳ | ὅτε τ’ ἀμφὶ Τυφωέϊ γαῖαν ἱμάσσῃ |
εἰν Ἀρίμοις, | ὅθι φασὶ Τυφωέος ἔμμεναι εὐνάς· |
ὣς ἄρα | τῶν ὑπὸ ποσσὶ | μέγα στεναχίζετο γαῖα |
785 ἐρχομένων· | μάλα δ’ ὦκα διέπρησσον πεδίοιο. |
This is a very turbulent passage from the Iliad:  out of fifteen verses, only lines 774 and 781 can be divided roughly into two half lines.  Most of the discourse act boundaries are based on the words in bold that tend toward peninitial or initial position in the act. Furthermore, I take adverbial phrases as separate, as well as participial phrases.  In the first part of the passage (771-779, the description of Achilles’ camp) these participial and adverbial phrases separate the subject from its verb (an adverbial phrase intervenes in 771 and 773, a participial phrase in 776 and 778-779) with only one exception (ἅρματα 777).  The verbs, moreover, are isolated to such an extent that they appear only in the following line. Fifteen out of thirty acts are introduced by a boundary marker, thirteen of which are particles. In line 779 οὐδέ begins an act, illustrating the strong tendency for negatives to be act-initial.  It becomes clear from this passage why Bakker would characterize δέ as a “boundary marker,” as it accompanies many small and large steps in the narrative. 
2.2.1 Homeric δέ
Before Bakker, δέ had been viewed as a primarily “connective” particle, sometimes with adversative force.  However, especially in Homer, δέ can occur at the boundary between two clauses, two phrases, between main clause and subclause, or vice versa, or between a vocative and what follows. In other words, δέ is not in the first place a syntactic marker.  Bakker, however, argues that it reflects the production of discourse in small steps. As such, δέ has little to do with content, and everything with form: the term connective thus is useful only if it concerns discourse rather than content.
αἱμοφόρυκτα δὲ δὴ κρέα ἤσθιον· | ὄσσε δ’ ἄρα σφέων
δακρυόφιν πίμπλαντο, | γόον δ’ ὠΐετο θυμός. |
actually they were eating meat defiled with blood, and then their eyes
were filled with tears; their heart presaged grief.
Here and in all thirty-one other instances of the combination δέ precedes δή.  The same thing holds for the combination of δέ with ἄν/κε(ν); remember that Fraenkel actually chose ἄν as a case study for his research into kôlon boundaries. The reason must quite simply be that δέ, at least in Homer, cannot leave its peninitial position for another second-position word. This tenacity suggests that its function is tightly connected to its position, which supports Bakker’s description of δέ as the quintessential boundary marker.
ἔρχεται | ἀγγέλλων φάος Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης, |
95 τῆμος δὴ νήσῳ προσεπίλνατο | ποντοπόρος νηῦς. |
Φόρκυνος  δέ τίς ἐστι λιμήν, | ἁλίοιο γέροντος, |
ἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης· | (…)
comes, heralding the light of early-born Dawn,
95 just then it approached an island, the sea-faring ship.
There is a harbor of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,
in the land of Ithaca. (…)
After describing how the sun comes up and the ship carrying the sleeping Odysseus reaches Ithaca, the performer devotes some attention to the place where Odysseus will be left by the Phaeacians.  This new section is set apart by the present tense and starts with δέ but is not otherwise marked, yet it represents a significant redirection from action to image and from movement to stasis. The two parts of discourse are divided by nothing more than δέ. 
2.2 Discourse Acts in Pindar
21 τά ποτ’ ἐν οὔρεσι φαντὶ | μεγαλοσθενεῖ
Φιλύρας υἱὸν ὀρφανιζομένῳ
Πηλεΐδᾳ παραινεῖν· | μάλιστα μὲν Κρονίδαν, |
βαρύοπα στεροπᾶν κεραυνῶν τε πρύτανιν, |
25 θεῶν σέβεσθαι· |
ταύτας δὲ μή ποτε τιμᾶς
ἀμείρειν | γονέων βίον πεπρωμένον. |
21 which they say that once in the mountains to the greatly powerful—
that Philyras’ son advised to the orphaned
son of Peleus: to honour especially Kronos’ son,
loud-voiced lord of lightning and thunder,
25 of all the gods.
And to never of those honours
deprive the given life of one’s parents.
In the passage above, I mark discourse act boundaries on the basis of syntax and sense (e.g. the apposition βαρύοπα…πρύτανιν), but also considering postpositives (νιν, ποτε, μέν, and δέ) and hyperbaton constructions (ὀρθὰν…ἐφημοσύναν). After σύ τοι  follows a participial phrase with the enclitic νιν in second position.  Τhe first two lines of this third strophe thus proceed in three acts, the first to direct attention to the focus of the upcoming two strophai (“You then”), the second to provide a link to the preceding (“keeping him [sc. Thrasyboulos’ father] at your right hand”),  and the third to look ahead to the upcoming discourse (“straight you keep the command”).
30 ὃς ὑπερέφθιτο πατρός, | ἐναρίμβροτον
ἀναμείναις στράταρχον Αἰθιόπων |
Μέμνονα. | Νεστόρειον γὰρ ἵππος ἅρμ’ ἐπέδα |
Πάριος ἐκ βελέων δαϊχθείς· | ὁ δ’ ἔφεπεν
κραταιὸν ἔγχος· |
35 Μεσσανίου δὲ γέροντος |
δονηθεῖσα φρὴν | βόασε παῖδα ὅν, |
χαμαιπετὲς δ’ ἄρ’ ἔπος οὐκ ἀπέριψεν· | αὐτοῦ μένων δ’ ὁ θεῖος ἀνήρ |
πρίατο μὲν θανάτοιο κομιδὰν πατρός, |
30 he died for his father, standing up to the man-slaying
general of the Ethiopians,
Memnon. For Nestor’s horse entangled the chariot,
struck by Paris’ arrows, and he [Memnon] brandished
his powerful spear.
35 The old man from Messene’s
mind in panic, he called to his son.
And not an earthbound word escaped from him: staying put, the godlike man
bought with his death his father’s escape.
The theme established by the end of the third stanza is explored in the fourth, which here takes the form of a little narrative. The transition to the past (ἔγεντο καὶ πρότερον) and the introduction of the story are clear. The pronoun in νόημα τοῦτο secures the connection to the preceding discourse, and the next act, starting with the personal pronoun ὅς referring to Antilochus, begins a little abstract of the entire story.  Μέμνονα in apposition at the head of line 32 is semantically superfluous, but the name here serves to close the ring begun at the naming of Antilochus, a ring from victim to killer.  Furthermore, placing the name here enables Pindar to juxtapose Memnon with Nestor: a reflection in the language of the situation on the battlefield. The narrative proper follows, beginning with the particle γάρ,  and proceeds in six subsequent acts, no fewer than four of which start with δέ.  Use of δέ in Pindar is noticeably different from Homer’s usage: the particle occurs much less frequently, and is more often used to mark more significant boundaries in the discourse.  It is in Pindar’s narrative sections that we find a distribution of δέ closer to that found in Homer, but even in Pindaric narrative the particle is not used quite as frequently as in Homer. As for the particle’s position, in line 37 δέ is postponed until after the word group αὐτοῦ μένων, a license that does not occur in Homer. 
ὁπλοτέροισιν | ἔργον πελώριον τελέσαις |
ὕπατος ἀμφὶ τοκεῦσιν ἔμμεν πρὸς ἀρετάν. |
by latter generations, having done that great deed,
to be foremost as regards virtue toward the parents.
Line 39, then, functions as the end of the narrative proper, while 40-42 are a reflection on the story’s outcome. If we take the classical approach to μέν as a “preparatory” particle, we find no satisfactory explanation for its occurrence here, in the act πρίατο μὲν θανάτοιο κομιδὰν πατρός. On a semantic level there is no parallellism or contrast with the following ἐδόκησέν τε τῶν πάλαι γενεᾷ. Syntactically, the verbs πρίατο and ἐδόκησεν do resonate with each other, as both have Antilochus as their subject. Scholars have consequently argued that μέν in such occurrences is “answered” by τε instead of δέ in Pindar.  But the two acts that would here be connected through μέν – τε diverge in their discursive nature. The first (39) rounds off the narrative, while the second (40) functions as a postscript.
2.4 μέν in Homer and Pindar
2.4.1 μέν projecting acts and moves
An act can project several others, and in practice these possibilities form a limited set. Beyond conversation, projection can become inherent in syntactical constructions, such as “the thing is,…”  Therefore, Auer speaks of pragmatic projection: “one act or action projects another” and syntactic projection: “one syntactical constituent projects another.” Projection can work on the microlevel (syntax: a preposition projects a noun to follow)  and on the macrolevel (genre: the first part of a priamel projects at least one more).  Moreover, projection can be more specific (preposition projects noun) or less specific (“and” after a syntactic closure “leave[s] all options open apart from not continuing”). 
ἔνθα δὲ κοιμήσαντο | καὶ ὕπνου δῶρον ἕλοντο. |
Ἄλλοι μὲν παρὰ νηυσὶν | ἀριστῆες Παναχαιῶν |
εὗδον παννύχιοι | μαλακῷ δεδμημένοι ὕπνῳ· |
ἀλλ’ οὐκ Ἀτρεΐδην Ἀγαμέμνονα ποιμένα λαῶν |
ὕπνος ἔχε γλυκερὸς | πολλὰ φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντα. |
There they lay down and received the gift of sleep.
The others around the ships, the best of all the Achaeans
slept through the night, overcome by soft sleep.
But not Atreus’ son Agamemnon, the shepherd of men,
did sweet sleep hold, as he pondered many things in his mind.
After ending the scene in book nine with all the leaders of the Greeks returning to their tents for the night, at the beginning of book ten the focus shifts to Agamemnon. In contexts like this, Apollonius Dyscolus describes μέν as marking a περιγραφή, a conclusion or summary.  Devarius took up this same term, calling μέν περιφραγικός, whereas Hoogeveen speaks of μεταβατικός (“transitional”); I believe Hoogeveen’s description is more helpful. In discourse terms, μέν does not function so much to mark a conclusion, since that is contained within its host act, but to point ahead. In instances like (t16) μέν pragmatically projects a new move, even as its host act rounds off the preceding one. As (t16) shows, the continuation of the discourse does not have to start with δέ: in line 3 ἀλλά introduces the new focus of discourse.
Μηριόνης τ’ ἀτάλαντος Ἐνυαλίῳ ἀνδρειφόντῃ· |
τοῖσι δ’ ἅμ’ ὀγδώκοντα μέλαιναι νῆες ἕποντο. |
Τληπόλεμος δ’ Ἡρακλεΐδης | ἠΰς τε μέγας τε |
ἐκ Ῥόδου ἐννέα νῆας ἄγεν | Ῥοδίων ἀγερώχων, |
and Meriones, peer of Enyalios, slayer of men,
and with them eighty black ships followed.
And Tlepolemus the Heraclid, strong and tall
from Rhodos led nine ships of noble Rhodians.
The Catalogue consists of a list of entries that describe a people and their leaders, one by one.  The entries are linguistically quite consistent, giving first the people and the leader in the first line, then often a little narrative, then naming the leader again, and giving the number of ships that he brings. In the renaming of the leader, which starts the final element of the entry, we often find μέν, as in (t17). Just like in (t16) μέν in (t17) prepares the hearer for the transition to a new focus, in this case a new entry. Here μέν is followed by δέ (line 653), but there is no syntactical symmetry between the two constructions. Rather, the μέν act looks like a conclusion, with the anaphoric pronoun retrieving the people named in the preceding discourse, whereas the δέ act looks like a new beginning, since it introduces a new name in first position.
55 μεταμειβόμενοι δ’ ἐναλλὰξ ἁμέραν | τὰν μὲν παρὰ πατρὶ φίλῳ
Δὶ νέμονται, | (…)
55 And alternately changing the day, the one with their beloved father
Zeus they live (…)
In Nemean 10 Pindar tells the story of Castor and Pollux, who have here just been introduced as the stewards of the agones in Sparta. In line 54 this is expanded in an additional participial phrase, introduced by μέν. Now, this participial phrase rounds off the topic of Castor and Pollux as stewards of the Games. The final act of line 54 introduces a new grammatical subject and contains a gnomic thought. Then the epode ends, and at the beginning of the new strophe Castor and Pollux are retrieved as subject (μεταμειβόμενοι), but as part of a new topic: their mortal/immortal status. In this case, then, μέν serves to project a new move, yet it also projects the current discourse topic (Castor and Pollux) across a gnṓmē and the strong performative discontinuity between the epode and a new strophe. 
However difficult we may find it to resist this impression, Denniston here presents as a special use of μέν something that represents a central and original function of the particle. Although any initial act may be said to naturally project by virtue of being initial (projection on a macrolevel), this use of μέν should be regarded as pragmatic projection. In practice, instances of μέν at the beginning of a new discourse rarely represent a balanced combination of a μέν and δέ act. Consider the famous beginning of Olympian 1:
ἅτε διαπρέπει νυκτὶ | μεγάνορος ἔξοχα πλούτου· |
alike that stands out in the night, beyond lordly wealth.
The priamel to Olympian 1 starts with a juxtaposition of water and gold, or so it appears. The particles μέν and δέ in the second position of the first two clauses suggests that we are faced with a classic parallel construction, but the reality is more complex. Gildersleeve’s translation nicely brings out the asymmetry in the construction: “…but there is another—gold—a blazing fire like it loometh—a night fire far above all proud wealth.”  Rather than just an article, ὁ in Pindar is “still largely deictic”;  because of that and for metrical reasons Gildersleeve translates ὁ δέ as a separate step (“but there is another”), a separate act in our terms. The first act with μέν grounds the song and performance, upon which the next act starting with δέ builds. Then follows another foil before the priamel’s climax is reached in line 7. μέν thus marks a discursive beginning, not one half of a syntactically or propositionally symmetrical construction. The fact that μέν so often occurs at the beginning of strophes, antistrophes, epodes, and songs is an extension of this same function. 
2.4.2 Small-scope μέν
γλῶσσά μοι τοξεύματ’ ἔχει | περὶ κείνων
κελαδέσαι· | καὶ νῦν (…)
tongue have, about them
to celebrate; and now (…)
In a typical Pindaric transition, the Isthmian ode proceeds from the manifold possible topics to the one the composer wants to focus on.  μέν creates a ground, yet points ahead,  and is followed by καὶ νῦν, which pins down what Pindar will in fact focus on.  Some view the relation between the μέν act and what follows as that of general to particular, or of secondary to primary.  However, in practice this is often clearly not the case, and moreover when it does occur, it may quite simply reflect the presentation of discourse in order of increasing relevance or importance, more than any particular function of the μέν – δέ construction.
φύλλ’ ἔπι | καὶ στεφάνους· |
πολλὰ δὲ πρόσθεν πτερὰ δέξατο νικᾶν. |
leaves on him and wreaths;
and many wings of victory did he receive before.
Here full symmetry is achieved through the verbal resonance of πολλὰ μέν – πολλὰ δέ, and this parallellism may have been marked prosodically, as happens with juxtapositions in spoken English.  Rather than read (t21) as an instance where the δέ component of the juxtaposition is “omitted,” one might say conversely that Pindar creates a beautiful symmetry in (t22) by adding a parallel δέ act. In this construction, one can also see how both μέν and δέ have small scope, to emphasize the symmetry. The particle μέν lends itself to this kind of construction, but the occurrence of μέν does not – or at least not in archaic and early classical Greek – entail the construction in every instance. 
νήδυμος ἀμφιχυθείς· | σὺ δέ οἱ κακὰ μήσαο θυμῷ |
ὄρσασ’ ἀργαλέων ἀνέμων ἐπὶ πόντον ἀήτας, |
sweet me shed about him, and you contrived evil for him in your mind
stirring up blasts of cruel winds on the sea,
Examples like this are rare in Homer, but in this instance there appears to be a close relation between ἐγὼ μέν and σὺ δέ. That is to say, uttering ἐγὼ μέν, when the particle has small scope, limits the possibilities of the following to σὺ δέ, ὑμεῖς δέ, ὁ δέ, or similar.  This projection can even reach across utterances, see this example from Aeschylus (— marks a new speaker):
ἀλλὰ κοινωσώμεθ’ ἤν πως ἀσφαλῆ βουλεύματ’ ἦι.
— ἐγὼ μὲν ὑμῖν τὴν ἐμὴν γνώμην λέγω,
πρὸς δῶμα δεῦρ’ ἀστοῖσι κηρύσσειν βοήν.
1350 — ἐμοὶ δ’ ὅπως τάχιστά γ’ ἐμπεσεῖν δοκεῖ
καὶ πρᾶγμ’ ἐλέγχειν σὺν νεορρύτωι ξίφει.
Now let us deliberate if perchance there is a safe course of action.
— I tell you what I think:
to proclaim a call to the citizens to return to the palace.
1350 — It seems to me that we should barge in as soon as possible,
and prove the fact with a newly-blooded sword.
The chorus hear Agamemnon’s cries as he is attacked, and consider what to do. The deliberations proceed chorus member by chorus member, each sharing his thoughts. The first chorus member in the excerpt starts his utterance with ἐγὼ μέν, which implicitly juxtaposes his opinion to the others to follow.  Two lines later, a second speaker starts with ἐμοὶ δέ, reacting to the first speaker and continuing the discussion of possible courses of action that runs on until line 1371. That is to say, μέν serves to project an act or in this case utterance that is in a significant way parallel to the present act: it has small scope, which limits the possibilities of what follows. The projection is fulfilled with δέ in the following utterance. 
80 Od. ἐμοὶ μὲν ἀρκεῖ τοῦτον ἐν δόμοις μένειν.
Ath. μεμηνότ’ ἄνδρα περιφανῶς ὀκνεῖς ἰδεῖν;
Od. φρονοῦντα γάρ νιν οὐκ ἂν ἐξέστην ὄκνῳ.
80 Od. Well, it suffices for me if he stays in the house.
Ath. Do you shrink from seeing a man who is clearly mad?
Od. If he had been sane I would not have avoided him in fear!
Athena tries to convince Odysseus to gloat over the downfall of Ajax, but Odysseus is hesitant, and uses ἐμοὶ μέν to disalign himself with Athena: “it suffices for me if he stays in the house. [But you do not seem to agree.]” Quite specifically, in instances like (t25) μέν locates the referent over which it has scope (ἐμοί) with respect to other available (textually explicit or implicit) referents.  This use of μέν is especially frequent in drama. 
2.5 Priming acts
2.5.1 Priming acts in Homeric narrative
κλισίῃσιν ἐν Ἀτρεΐδαο γένοντο, /
τοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσεν
ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων /
The boundary marker δή is, without further explanation, put here in fourth position of an intonation unit.  In performance, it is not inconceivable that οἱ δ᾽ ὅτε δὴ was performed as part of one intonation unit.  Cognitively, however, the first intonation unit in (t26) contains two acts, or rather one act and the beginning of a second, which concludes with the second chunk in Bakker’s division. Consider again my alternative presentation of line 313:
τοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσεν | ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων
then did the lord of men, Agamemnon, slay a bull
When we read these two lines as four acts – with the nominative ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων taken as a separate act expanding the subject contained within ἱέρευσεν – οἱ δ᾽ turns out to be a subject without a verb, a phenomenon generally called a pendant nominative.  Most translations, like Murray’s above, solve this problem by taking the pronoun as the subject of the following act (a subclause). As a result, the independence of the pronoun is lost in the translation, obscuring the emergent discourse articulation.  Consider an alternative translation:
for them he sacrificed a bull, Agamemnon lord of men.
Syntactically, the isolation of οἱ δ᾽ is troubling, which is probably why instances such as this one are generally read as Murray does, without further discussion.
As Fraenkel saw, the act containing the pronoun + particle is a normal and productive rather than anacolouthic construction.  Classicists have more recently described the phenomenon in Greek as a sign of “oral syntax, ”  a characterization that, like earlier views, marks this kind of construction as divergent from a supposed standard syntax.
As οἱ δέ in (t27), the noun phrase “My sister” stands on it own: it does not form part of a clause finished at a later point. Chafe discusses the same kind of construction, but he calls the initial unit an “isolated referent.” In his analysis of oral narratives he comes to the conclusion that “[i]t is not unusual for an intonation unit to verbalize little or nothing more than a referent.”  Left-dislocated elements in contemporary discourse are typically associated with topic status: the terms found in the left periphery of the sentence often reflect what a significant part of the upcoming discourse is about. 
ὑψηλὸς δέδμητο | περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ |
ἔνθ᾽ ἔβη εἰς εὐνὴν | πολλὰ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζων |
was built up high, in a place with a view,
there he went to his bed, pondering many things in his mind.
In this example the name in the priming act (Τηλέμαχος) cannot be constructed with the verb in the immediately following act (δέδμητο), since it is not coreferential: it supports the validity of likewise regarding οἱ δέ as independent in (t27).  Here, Telemachus is singled out from a larger group and remains the main referent in the last lines of book one of the Odyssey. Despite the slight variations in form, in all incarnations the priming act reflects a cognitive process: the reorientation of the mind’s eye. From a discourse perspective, these priming acts typically occur at narrative transitions, redirecting the joint attention of the performer and audience to a character that has been out of focus for a time. When a referent is retrieved in a priming act, it creates an expectation of (i.e. projects) an upcoming action done by (or to, if the (pro)noun is in an oblique case)  the character.
ζώσατο μὲν ῥάκεσιν περὶ μήδεα, | φαῖνε δὲ μηροὺς
he girded rags around his loins, and he showed his thighs
Here the act αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεύς is divided from what follows by verse end, as well as the boundary marker μέν in the following line.  Denniston says the following about such constructions:
This clearly holds for (t32), where αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεύς provides the “subject” of both the μέν and the following δέ clause. However, Denniston fails to address the question of why this construction occurs, nor does he allow for the fact that the act preceding the μέν – δέ construction may project beyond it (i.e. “apply” to more than “the whole μέν…δέ complex”).  The priming act αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεύς redirects the performer’s and audience’s focus, and projects the character’s relevance for the upcoming discourse.  It may not be a coincidence that this kind of short act, which occurs in a myriad of contexts, has been incorporated in the quasi-fixed constructions of the form X δ᾽ | ὅτε δή, Χ δ᾽ | ἐπεὶ οὖν (and 3x τ᾽ ἐπεὶ οὖν), and Χ δ᾽ | ὥς οὖν. The beginnings of new scenes, often marked by indentation in the editions, typically require extra attention to be placed on particular referents. In such contexts, priming acts have become part of the verse that concerns itself with framing the upcoming scene. 
2.5.2 Priming acts in Pindar
πετραέσσας ἐλαύνων ἵκετ᾽ ἐκ Πυθῶνος | ἅπαντας ἐν οἴκῳ
49 εἴρετο παῖδα | τὸν Εὐάδνα τέκοι |
52 ὣς ἄρα μάνυε. | τοὶ δ᾽ | οὔτ᾽ ὦν ἀκοῦσαι |
οὔτ᾽ ἰδεῖν εὔχοντο (…)
he came driving out of rocky Pytho, everyone in the house
49 he asked <about> the child, whom Euadne bore,
52 Thus he prophesied. And they, neither having heard,
nor having seen it they swore (…)
In this passage in Olympian 6, where king Aipytus returns from Pytho to search for Iamos, the offspring of Euadne and Apollo, the priming act | βασιλεὺς δέ | effects a transition back to the king, who is subject and protagonist for the next five lines. The isolated | τοὶ δ᾽ | in line 52 effects another transition, this time to the king’s listeners, who had been passive bystanders until then.  In both cases the nominatives fit neatly into the syntactic structure, but as in the Homeric examples their function is not to be sought on a syntactic level only. Here, too, the priming acts function as cognitive pivots, accommodating the redirection of attention. 
ὃς ἔλαβεν αἶψα, | τηλόθε μεταμαιόμενος, | δαφοινὸν ἄγραν ποσίν· |
κραγέται δὲ κολοιοὶ ταπεινὰ νέμονται. |
τίν γε μέν, | εὐθρόνου Κλεοῦς ἐθελοίσας, | ἀεθλοφόρου λήματος ἕνεκεν |
Νεμέας Ἐπιδαυρόθεν τ’ ἄπο καὶ Μεγάρων δέδορκεν φάος. |
he seizes quickly, chasing from afar, the bloodied prey with his claws.
And the chatterers, the jackdaws live down below.
And for you, by the will of fair-throned Kleo, because of a desire to win,
out of Nemea, from Epidauros, and out of Megara light has gleamed.
The last epode of the song starts with a metaphor that sets up a comparison between the eagle, best of birds, and the victor.  Then in line 83 we find a priming act that consists of the dative τίν and the particles γε and μέν. Unlike the nominatives in Homer, discussed above, the pronoun here is fully part of the syntactical construction, but the verb and subject that complete the construction are postponed to the very end of the song (δέδορκεν φάος). A priming act in this form, consisting of a second-person pronoun and a particle, is comparatively rare in Homer. 
†λοιγὸν ἀμύνων† ἐναντίῳ στρατῷ, |
ἀστῶν γενεᾷ μέγιστον κλέος αὔξων |
30 ζώων τ’ ἀπὸ καὶ θανών. |
τὺ δέ, | Διοδότοιο παῖ, | μαχατάν
αἰνέων Μελέαγρον | αἰνέων δὲ καὶ Ἕκτορα |
Ἀμφιάραόν τε, |
εὐανθέ’ ἀπέπνευσας ἁλικίαν |
<…> to the opposing army,
that for his townsmen’s race he magnifies the greatest glory
30 in life as well as after death.
You, son of Diodotos, glorifying the warrior
Meleager, and glorifying Hector even,
you breathed out your flowering youth.
In the ode for Strepsiades of Thebes, Pindar reserves most of his praise for Strepsiades’ uncle and namesake who had died fighting for Thebes. In these lines, the song transitions from praising this ancestor’s virtues to addressing him directly.  Consider especially the stark contrast between the third person imperative ἴστω in 27 and the second-person pronoun followed by the vocative in 31. Lines 27-30 are the expression of a wish (ἴστω, “may he know”), and line 31 appears to immediately fulfill that wish. In performing 31-36, the performer(s), especially if it was a chorus of citizens, enact the praise of the uncle Strepsiades.  The transition from the expression of the wish to its fulfillment is reflected in a change from the third person to the second person, and the pivotal act is τὺ δέ, with the pronoun in the vocative or the nominative.