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.3 Moves: Particles at discourse transitions
In two turns, which could be expanded almost infinitely, speakers A and B go through an exchange that consists of an “invitation” and “rejection.”  Each of the two turns consists of multiple acts that are united by the fact that they share a common communicative goal. 
3.1.1 Move transitions
οἵ τινες ἡγεμόνες Δαναῶν καὶ κοίρανοι ἦσαν· |
πληθὺν δ’ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι | οὐδ’ ὀνομήνω, |
who were the leaders of the Greeks and the captains.
Their multitude I would not be able to speak nor name,
In a gesture rare in Homeric epic, the (persona of the) narrator breaks the spell of the narrative and foregrounds his role as a performer. Most of the Homeric narrative effaces the presence of the performer and audience as much as possible; in order to maintain the illusion of their absence, the performer divides his discourse by more subtle means. In this instance, however, a special piece of discourse is set apart by a special introduction.  The performer professes his inability to complete his intended move without help from the Muses, which he apparently receives,  since he concludes:
The listing of the leaders of the Greek army is thus composed as a separate move, explicitly demarcated by metanarrative comments. 
3.2 Particles in narrative
3.2.1 Narrative moves
The construction of narrative along these lines may be regarded as the result of social convention, but this convention in turn probably has a cognitive basis.  Whatever form the narrative takes, verbal or not, it is often possible to distinguish the different constituent parts. The omnipresence of this narrative structure suggests either that the storyteller is aware of the differences between sections and presents them differently, or that a certain linguistic form comes automatically with a certain part of the story—it is hard to establish the extent to which some of this linguistic marking is conscious. Regardless, in the Homeric and Pindaric corpora there appears to be a consistent marking of boundaries between Labovian sections of narrative, and they are realized in different linguistic forms. In the following, I first study embedded narratives as moves within the larger discourse, with a focus on Homer, and I then examine different narrative sections as moves within those stories.
ἐστρατεύθη | σὺν δ’ ἀνάγκᾳ νιν φίλον
καί τις ἐὼν μεγαλάνωρ ἔσανεν.| φαντὶ δὲ Λαμνόθεν | ἕλκει τειρόμενον | μεταβάσοντας ἐλθεῖν |
ἥροας ἀντιθέους | Ποίαντος υἱὸν τοξόταν· |
ὃς Πριάμοιο πόλιν πέρσεν, | τελεύτασέν τε πόνους Δαναοῖς, |
55 ἀσθενεῖ μὲν χρωτὶ βαίνων, | ἀλλὰ μοιρίδιον ἦν. |
he campaigned, and in need even a proud one
greeted him as a friend. They say that from Lemnos they came to take him, tired out by his wound, 
the godlike heroes, Poias’ archer son.
He razed Priam’s city, and ended the Danaans’ troubles.
55 Though walking with flesh infirm, still it was fated.
After a brief orientation (50-51), consisting in the naming of a main character (Philoctetes) as a parallel for the laudandus (Hieron), Pindar presents a famous narrative in an extremely condensed form. The actual start of the complication is marked by φαντὶ δέ, which shows once more that δέ in Pindar regularly marks major discourse boundaries. 
3.2.2 Narrative beginnings: γάρ
ἤτοι μὲν γὰρ ἄτερ πολέμου εἰσῆλθε Μυκήνας |
ξεῖνος | ἅμ’ ἀντιθέῳ Πολυνείκεϊ | λαὸν ἀγείρων· |
Oh yes, for  he came to Mycene in peace
as a guest, with godlike Polyneices, to collect an army.
Agamemnon is talking to Diomedes about the latter’s father Tydeus, in an attempt to get him back into the fight. Although he has never met Tydeus himself, Agamemnon has heard good things about him (line 375), which leads him to narrate the story about Tydeus’ visit to Mycene (lines 376-398). Traditionally, γάρ is explained in this and other instances as providing the justification for what precedes, which would fit into its generally understood main “causal” or “explanatory” function.  Consider this relatively recent description by Sicking of γάρ in Lysias: “The purpose of sentences introduced by γάρ is primarily explanatory: they provide answers to all sorts of questions raised by the speaker’s utterances.” 
καὶ γάρ τ’  ἠΰκομος Νιόβη ἐμνήσατο σίτου, |
τῇ περ δώδεκα παῖδες ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὄλοντο |
After all even pretty-haired Niobe thought of food,
though for her twelve children died in the halls
As in (t6), the narrative serves as a persuasive device, and again it is triggered by association in the performer’s mind. The example of Niobe’s story is triggered by the parallel with Priam: just as she ate despite her grief, so Priam should too. It is the association between the two episodes that explains why we find γάρ.  In this instance, there is no doubt that the story introduced by γάρ represents a paradigmatic narrative meant to persuade the interlocutors to have dinner. As such, it is a particular example that follows after a general claim. However, association is the key element in the relation between the preceding and upcoming move signalled by γάρ. As a result, the new move can also be a general statement following upon a particular one; the inverse of an example backing up a general claim. 
3.2.3 ἤδη and ἦ marking beginnings
“ὦ γύναι | ἦ μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος νημερτὲς ἔειπες· |
205 ἤδη γὰρ καὶ δεῦρό ποτ’  ἤλυθε | δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς” |
In a valiant attempt to do justice to the string ἤδη γὰρ καὶ δεῦρό ποτ’, Murray translates line 204 as: “for (γάρ) once (ποτ’) before (ἤδη) also (καί) noble Odysseus came here (δεῦρο).”  This translation sounds forced because, among other reasons, it stretches the meaning of ἤδη. The presence of ποτε (“once”) means that the most common sense of the temporal adverb, “already”, would be superfluous. Murray here translates it to mean “at some point before the present,” when elsewhere in Homer it always bears a relation to the present, so “now” or “already” in the sense of “by now.”  Adverbs like ἤδη are called “mobile,” since they can occur in any position in an act. Thus we find it at the beginning (Odyssey 2.89 ἤδη γὰρ τρίτον ἐστὶν ἔτος, “it is already the third year”), in the middle (Iliad 7.293 νὺξ δ’ ἤδη τελέθει “and night is already here”), or at the end (Odyssey 1.303 αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν κατελεύσομαι ἤδη “and I will go to my swift ship now”).  In (t8) and a number of parallels, however, I believe that we are not looking at ἤδη at the beginning of an embedded narrative, but at ἦ δή. In the following section, I argue that a number of instances of ἤδη γάρ in the Iliad may in fact represent ἦ δὴ γάρ. To back up that argument, I discuss the relevant passages in relation to the instances where our manuscripts do read ἦ δή. Finally, I offer a possible explanation of ἦ in these and similar contexts. Since the relevant instances of ἤδη γάρ are limited to the Iliad, in this section there are no examples from the Odyssey.
590 ἤδη γάρ με καὶ ἄλλοτ’ | ἀλεξέμεναι μεμαῶτα |
ῥῖψε ποδὸς τεταγὼν ἀπὸ βηλοῦ θεσπεσίοιο, |
590 For already also another time, as I was trying to save you,
he threw me, having seized my foot, from the divine threshold.
Line 589 may be read alternatively, with my emendation, as follows: ἦ | δὴ γάρ με (“Yes, for actually (καί) another time, as I was trying to save you, he threw me…”). If we want to read ἤδη with the manuscripts, the same temporal problem holds as in (t8) above. The event has direct relevance to the present, but if ἤδη indeed is a temporal marker here, its function is not to emphasize that it has “already happened,” but that it “happened at some point before the present” which is in fact fully expressed by ἄλλοτε, as it is by ποτε in (t8).
οὐδὲ κατευνήσαιμ’, | ὅτε μὴ αὐτός γε κελεύοι. |
ἤδη γάρ με καὶ ἄλλο τεὴ  ἐπίνυσσεν ἐφετμὴ |
nor would I lull him into sleep, if it were not he himself that ordered me.
For already also another time your command taught me,
If we read ἦ | δὴ γάρ με here, the thought expressed is perhaps best rendered in English as “no” (“No, for actually also another time your command taught me”). A little narrative of that earlier event then follows.
“ἦ | δὴ μὰν ὀλίγον γε | Μενοιτιάδαο θανόντος |
κῆρ ἄχεος μεθέηκα | χερείονά περ καταπέφνων.” |
“Yes! Surely at least a little, now that Menoetius’ son died,
I have eased my heart, having killed only a lesser one.”
As a marker of discursive discontinuity, ἦ is not limited to introducing embedded narratives, which it does in the cluster ἦ | δὴ γάρ. In (t11) ἦ starts direct speech (with numerous parallels in note 123) and it regularly occurs at the start of oaths (in the cluster ἦ μήν). In both cases one can imagine the effectiveness of a prosodic interruption in the form of ἦ to mark the transition to a new kind of discourse, a new move. 
3.2.4 Other narrative beginnings
βόσκοντ’ Ἠελίοιο βόες | καὶ ἴφια μῆλα.
graze the cattle of Helios and his strong flocks.
ἔνθα is here clearly used in a spatial sense, its core value. In that capacity it serves well to initiate a little narrative associated with a place. The word, however, is used more broadly in Homeric epic—in fact, the majority of instances in Homer marks the start of a new move within a narrative, generally translated with “then.”  ἔνθα thus straddles a fuzzy semantic border where it can mean either (or both) “then” and “there”. When ἔνθα means “there” it refers to a geographical place in the storyworld, but when it is most naturally translated as “then,” it may well be a marker of a certain “place” on the unfolding path of the narrative. 
ἔνθα δὲ Σίσυφος ἔσκεν, | ὃ κέρδιστος γένετ’ ἀνδρῶν, |
And there Sisyphus lived, who was the craftiest of men.
With the story Glaucus starts a new move, but contrary to expectation we do not find any syndetic marking at its beginning. This start of a new move in asyndeton is informative. The lack of metalinguistic marking suggests that the discontinuity must have been marked by the performer in some non-linguistic or paralinguistic manner.  This is not to say that the presence of a metalinguistic marker voids the possibility of extralinguistic or paralinguistic marking. The example shows that there are multiple strategies to negotiate discourse transitions, involving metalinguistic marking to a greater or lesser extent, and always possibly marked otherwise in performance.
Ἴστρου ἀπὸ σκιαρᾶν παγᾶν ἔνεικεν Ἀμφιτρυωνιάδας |
from the shady springs of the Ister Amphitryon’s son brought, 
Here we see a narrative of the kind described by Slater and West as a “lyric narrative”, introduced by a pronoun, ποτε, and an aorist.  The transition to the narrative falls on a metrical boundary in the song, which would allow for some prosodic marking on τάν ποτε to signal that it is the start of a new move.  For the present study it suffices to note that asyndeton, the start of a new sentence without the use of a conjunction, conjunctive adverb, or particle, often occurs at the beginning of new moves. For Homer asyndeta occur mostly at the start of embedded narratives or subsections of narratives, while in Pindar asyndeton can occur at the start of an embedded narrative, at narrative transitions, introducing a gnomic statement, or at the transition to the hic et nunc.  The lack of any metalinguistic marking of so strong a discursive transition suggests some kind of prosodic discontinuity such as an extended pause. 
3.3 Move transitions in Homeric narrative
ἀμφοτέρων δὲ φυὴν ἐδάην | καὶ μήδεα πυκνά. |
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ Τρώεσσιν ἐν ἀγρομένοισιν ἔμιχθεν |
210 στάντων μὲν Μενέλαος ὑπείρεχεν εὐρέας ὤμους, |
ἄμφω δ’ ἑζομένω | γεραρώτερος ἦεν Ὀδυσσεύς· |
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ μύθους καὶ μήδεα πᾶσιν ὕφαινον |
ἤτοι μὲν Μενέλαος ἐπιτροχάδην ἀγόρευε, |
παῦρα μὲν ἀλλὰ μάλα λιγέως, | ἐπεὶ οὐ πολύμυθος |
215 οὐδ’ ἀφαμαρτοεπής· | ἦ  | καὶ γένει ὕστερος ἦεν. |
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ πολύμητις ἀναΐξειεν Ὀδυσσεὺς |
στάσκεν, | ὑπαὶ δὲ ἴδεσκε | κατὰ χθονὸς ὄμματα πήξας, |
σκῆπτρον δ’ | οὔτ’ ὀπίσω οὔτε προπρηνὲς ἐνώμα, |
ἀλλ’ ἀστεμφὲς ἔχεσκεν | ἀΐδρεϊ φωτὶ ἐοικώς· |
220 φαίης κε | ζάκοτόν τέ τιν’ ἔμμεναι | ἄφρονά τ’ αὔτως. |
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ ὄπα τε μεγάλην ἐκ στήθεος εἵη |
καὶ ἔπεα νιφάδεσσιν ἐοικότα χειμερίῃσιν, |
οὐκ ἂν ἔπειτ’ Ὀδυσῆΐ γ’ ἐρίσσειε βροτὸς ἄλλος· |
οὐ τότε γ’ ὧδ’  Ὀδυσῆος ἀγασσάμεθ’ εἶδος ἰδόντες.” |
The progress of Antenor’s story exemplifies the way Homeric epic habitually signals each narrative step with a temporal marker combined with particles. At the same time, this excerpt is special in that it has the same combination four times within thirteen lines: ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή (209, 212, 216, 221).  Despite the high frequency of the combination in the Homeric corpus, this four-fold clustering is limited to only three places.  The effect in this passage, as in the two parallel passages, is one of crescendo. The audience is kept in suspense as Antenor works toward the climax of his narrative: Odysseus was older than Menelaus, and the latter spoke briefly but very well, and Odysseus did not look impressive; only when he started speaking could one see his true character.
3.3.1 Homeric δή I: marking narrative steps
ἀμφοτέρων δὲ φυὴν ἐδάην | καὶ μήδεα πυκνά. |
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ Τρώεσσιν ἐν ἀγρομένοισιν ἔμιχθεν |
Of both of them I learned the nature, and the cunning tricks.
Now when  among the assembled Trojans they mingled…
After the introductory two lines (207-208), ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή marks the progression to the complicating action. The move introduced by the combination is not a narrative peak, nor does it in any other way seem to be emphasized. That is to say, it does not seem to be the case that the passage reads with small-scope δή as “very much at that moment” (i.e. “just when”).  Its function, which is perhaps impossible to render into English, is to mark in concert with ἀλλά that there is some kind of narrative discontinuity, which coincides with the start of a new move.  The function of δή along with a temporal marker to mark new moves in the narrative correlates with the findings of Bestgen and Vonk.  In a study of the effect of the use of temporal markers versus “and” at narrative transitions, they found that temporal markers (segmentation markers in their terms) reduced the availability of words in the preceding discourse. This suggests that readers regard those temporal markers as some kind of new beginning. In Greek, the temporal adverb marks the progression, while δή marks the discontinuity.  It is no coincidence that in this function δή often occurs in a subordinate clause, which syntactically projects an answering main clause, and thus a longer piece of discourse. There is a productive analogy for this effect of a subordinate clause in recent research on aspect in English. In an experiment, readers were asked to predict what was to follow after a clause with imperfective or perfective aspect: “The diver was snorkeling…” versus “The diver had snorkeled…”. The latter of the two led to the inference that the details of the snorkeling event are less relevant for the ongoing interpretation than whatever follows in the discourse.  Likewise, a when-clause of the form ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή suggests that the information in the subsequent act will be more salient than that of the when-clause itself.  This formulation makes it less likely that δή here functions to intensify its host act.
ἱστὸν στησάμενοι | ἀνά θ’ ἱστία λεύκ’ ἐρύσαντες. |
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἐλείπομεν | οὐδέ τις ἄλλη
φαίνετο γαιάων, | ἀλλ’ οὐρανὸς ἠδὲ θάλασσα, |
405 δὴ τότε κυανέην νεφέλην ἔστησε Κρονίων |
νηὸς ὕπερ γλαφυρῆς, | ἤχλυσε δὲ πόντος ὑπ’ αὐτῆς. |
setting up the mast and hoisting up the white sail.
But when we left the island behind, and no other part
appeared of the lands, but only sky and sea,
405 right at that moment Cronos’ son raised a black cloud
over the hollow ship, and the sea grew dark under it.
In line 403, ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή introduces a new step in the narrative, but the crucial event occurs with δὴ τότε. Whereas δή in peninitial position merely marks progression of the narrative, in initial position it marks a salient moment. Here and in a number of parallels, δὴ τότε introduces a peak in the narrative, the moment that has been worked up to until then.  The scope of δή in such instances is debatable: it either intensifies τότε or the entire act. The translation shows that I take it as intensifying τότε, but δὴ τότε together introduces the entire move: the intensified temporal adverb functions as what we call a “peak marker.”  Compare the same narrative moment in this passage from the Iliad:
175 ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ δεκάτη ἐφάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠὼς |
καὶ τότε μιν ἐρέεινε | καὶ ᾔτεε σῆμα ἰδέσθαι |
175 But when the tenth rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
right then he questioned him and asked to see the token,
The function of καί to introduce a peak or climax is discussed elsewhere, and the combinations δὴ τότε and καὶ τότε have the same function in Homer: to introduce a narrative peak.  In the combination καὶ τότε δή, finally, it is hard to establish whether δή marks a move boundary or intensifies the act, along with καί. The construction may serve as a reminder that boundaries are fuzzy, and that the following conclusions are based on patterns we perceive. Since in the end δή is just one word, its multiple functions may have blended into one another, and more than one of the particle’s aspects may be relevant in a single instance.
3.3.2 Homeric δή II: intensifying constituents or acts
The instance from direct speech (t19) reveals the act-initial position of δή because it follows a vocative. The instance in Iliad 23 is less straightforward, but I argue that δή is a mobile here, with scope over the following word. 
νευστάζων κεφαλῇ· | δὴ γὰρ κακὸν ὄσσετο θυμῷ |
bowing his head. | For his spirit boded a truly bad thing. |
The translation above represents the reading of δή with small scope, intensifying κακόν; Murray appears to give a similar reading, with “for his spirit boded ill indeed,” but the English is ambiguous. This reading, however, only works in this and two other instances of δὴ γάρ,  too low a number to sufficiently explain the combination’s function. In the fourteen remaining cases δή cannot be read as intensifying the word immediately following γάρ, but rather appears to modify the entire act. This passage from the Odyssey, where δὴ γάρ is in act-initial position but not followed by an adjective, exemplifies these cases:
μειλιχίοισ’ ἐπέεσσι παραυδῶν· | οἱ δέ τοι | οὔ τι
280 πείσονται· | δὴ γάρ  σφι παρίσταται αἴσιμον ἦμαρ. |
coaxing them with gentle words. And they, not at all
280 will they obey you. For really, their fated day is at hand.
We have rendered δὴ γάρ as a separate punctuation unit in English, which is how sentence adverbs are generally rendered to signal that they have scope over the entire sentence.  Whereas with scope over one adjective δή intensifies the meaning of that word, with a larger scope it rather marks an intensity behind the utterance of the act: not “very X” but “take note that X” or “I insist that X.” This reading of δὴ γάρ is supported by a final example of δή in act-initial position:
3.3.3 Homeric δή: conclusions
3.4 Move transitions in Pindaric discourse
3.4.1 Particles at move transitions in narrative
ἁμέρας ἐξ Ὠκεανοῦ φέρομεν | νώτων ὕπερ γαίας ἐρήμων |
ἐννάλιον δόρυ, | μήδεσιν ἀνσπάσσαντες ἁμοῖς. |
τουτάκι δ’ οἰοπόλος δαίμων ἐπῆλθεν, | φαιδίμαν
ἀνδρὸς αἰδοίου πρόσοψιν θηκάμενος· | φιλίων δ’ ἐπέων
30 ἄρχετο, | ξείνοις ἅ τ’ ἐλθόντεσσιν εὐεργέται |
δεῖπν’ ἐπαγγέλλοντι πρῶτον. |
ἀλλὰ γὰρ νόστου πρόφασις γλυκεροῦ
κώλυεν μεῖναι. | φάτο δ’ Εὐρύπυλος | Γαιαόχου παῖς ἀφθίτου Ἐννοσίδα |
ἔμμεναι· | γίνωσκε δ’ ἐπειγομένους· | ἂν δ’ εὐθὺς ἁρπάξαις ἀρούρας |
35 δεξιτερᾷ προτυχὸν ξένιον μάστευσε δοῦναι |
days from the Ocean we carried it, across empty ridges of land,
the spear of the sea, drawing it according to my plans.
And then the solitary god came to us, with the radiant
features of a respectable man. With friendly words
30 he began, as when to arriving guests generous men
first announce dinner.
But of course the excuse of our sweet return
kept us from staying. He said that Eurypulos, son of the immortal earthholder and -shaker,
he was; he noticed that we were pressed. At once having picked up soil,
35 with his right hand he strove to offer it as a makeshift guest-gift.
The narrative progresses at a steady pace, with δέ occurring at every significant narrative step (lines 25, 28, 32, 34, 34). In such narrative passages Pindaric use of δέ may appear to approach that of Homer, but in practice the particle is not as flexible in the Victory Odes. Note that, unlike in editions of Homer, δέ is always preceded by a high dot or a period. In Homer, δέ can introduce practically any kind of act, ranging from prepositional phrases to full main clauses. In Pindar the range is similarly large, but most commonly it serves to separate periods or sentences, as in all 5 examples above. Not only are the discourse segments separated by δέ all syntactic wholes, they also form discrete narrative events.  That is to say, δέ in Pindar serves as a boundary marker on a slightly higher level of discourse division than in Homer, closer in fact to the function of δή in the latter (see §61-§62).
συγγενέσιν παρεκοινᾶθ’· | οἱ δ’ ἐπέσποντ’. | αἶψα δ’ ἀπὸ κλισιᾶν |
ὦρτο σὺν κείνοισι· | καί ῥ’ ἦλθον Πελία μέγαρον· |
shared it with his relatives. And they followed him. At once from the couches
he rose with them, and they came to Pelias’ palace.
After telling the story of the homecoming of Jason, who spends five days catching up with his father and family (lines 124-131), Pindar moves on to the peak of the encounter between Jason and Pelias. The peak is introduced with ἀλλ᾽ ἐν ἕκτᾳ (line 132), which follows a typical pattern: “for five days nothing happened, but on the sixth…”  As in the ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε construction, a negative statement is followed by a positive one, introduced by ἀλλά. The negative statement inherently projects that a change will come, often from inactivity to action.  Thus, ἀλλ᾽ ἐν ἕκτᾳ in itself promises the peak, and the participial clause that follows (πάντα…ἀρχᾶς, line 132) serves to postpone the crucial events. As the action starts (from οἱ δέ, line 133) the acts become shorter, and we find three finite verbs in three lines. The final act (καί ῥ’ ἦλθον Πελία μέγαρον, line 134) contains ἄρα. Although the act is clearly connected to the preceding two, it represents a shift of frame: they arrive at Pelias’ palace. In fact, the act is the outcome of the preceding scene, and as such functions as a hinge between one scene and the next.  This discourse function matches directly the use of ἄρα after direct speech and in the second half of the Homeric simile,  and it recurs in its use after pronouns (as Pythian 4.78), especially after unframed discourse. 
3.4.2 The discursive flow of lyric song: Pythian 2
Pindar’s discourse of praise consists of endless twists and turns, transitions from present to past perhaps reflected in the back-and-forth of a dancing chorus. Despite the decidedly lower frequency of particles in Pindar than in Homer (12.7% of words versus 17.1% in the Iliad and 18% in the Odyssey), they are just as important metalinguistic markers of transitions in the discourse. More so than in Homer, however, asyndeton is the polyfunctional transitional device par excellence and can initiate every imaginable new move.  At the same time, the many different kinds of transition have caused several markers to become specialized in certain discourse functions. In the present section I discuss several excerpts from Pindar’s second Pythian, describing its linear progression in acts and moves, along with all the relevant markers occurring at important transitions.
τέμενος Ἄρεος, | ἀνδρῶν ἵππων τε σιδαροχαρμᾶν δαιμόνιαι τροφοί, |
ὕμμιν τόδε τᾶν λιπαρᾶν ἀπὸ Θηβᾶν φέρων
μέλος | ἔρχομαι | ἀγγελίαν τετραορίας ἐλελίχθονος, |
5 εὐάρματος Ἱέρων | ἐν ᾇ κρατέων |
τηλαυγέσιν ἀνέδησεν Ὀρτυγίαν στεφάνοις, |
ποταμίας ἕδος Ἀρτέμιδος, | ἇς οὐκ ἄτερ |
κείνας ἀγαναῖσιν ἐν χερσὶ ποικιλανίους ἐδάμασσε πώλους. |
Ares a sanctuary, of men and steel-clad horses  a divine nurse.
To you, bringing from Thebes-the-Shining this
song, I come, <with> news of the four-horse chariot that shakes the earth: 
5 Hieron of the good chariots, prevailing in that <contest>,
crowned Ortygia with far-shining garlands,
seat of the river-goddess Artemis. Not without her
did he master those pretty-reined mares with his gentle hands.
The intricacy of the syntactic construction of the first strophe belies its performative clarity; consider first the sequence of acts. The first two lines, in three discourse acts, form a tricolon building up to Syracuse’s largest boon: her men and horses. The occasion of this song, victory in a chariot race, is thus suggested, and Pindar moves on: with a second-person plural pronoun he involves the audience, followed by a participial act whose final boundary is determined by the hyperbaton of τόδε and μέλος (ὕμμιν τόδε τᾶν λιπαρᾶν ἀπὸ Θηβᾶν φέρων / μέλος).  The “you” implies an “I,” which is realized in line 4 (ἔρχομαι). The apposition to μέλος that closes the line (ἀγγελίαν…) projects a report of the actual news, and the audience’s expectation is fulfilled immediately in line 5, in two acts: the first mention of the laudandus is accompanied by the third reference to the event (εὐάρματος Ἱέρων), which gives Pindar the possibility to refer to the actual victory – already abundantly in focus – with the minimal participial phrase ἐν ᾇ κρατέων. The following act (τηλαυγέσιν ἀνέδησεν Ὀρτυγίαν στεφάνοις) contains the main verb of which Hieron is the subject, but cognitively the act brings the audience from the athletic event to Syracuse, describing how the victor “crowned Ortygia,” which primes the goddess Artemis, named in the following act (ποταμίας ἕδος Ἀρτέμιδος).  This then allows the poet to set up the theme of divine aid in the victory, to be elaborated in the antistrophe.
10 ὅ τ᾽ ἐναγώνιος Ἑρμᾶς | αἰγλάεντα τίθησι κόσμον, | ξεστὸν ὅταν δίφρον |
ἔν θ᾽ ἅρματα πεισιχάλινα καταζευγνύῃ |
σθένος ἵππιον, | ὀρσοτρίαιναν εὐρυβίαν καλέων θεόν. |
ἄλλοις δέ τις ἐτέλεσσεν ἄλλος ἀνήρ |
εὐαχέα βασιλεύσιν ὕμνον ἄποιν᾽ ἀρετᾶς. |
15 κελαδέοντι μὲν ἀμφὶ Κινύραν πολλάκις |
φᾶμαι Κυπρίων, | τὸν ὁ χρυσοχαῖτα προφρόνως ἐφίλησ᾽ | Ἀπόλλων, |
10 and Hermes of the games, place the shining harness, whenever the polished car
and under the bit-steering chariot he [sc. Hieron] yokes
the strength of horses, calling on the trident-wielding, wide-ruling God.
Now, to different people does each man pay tribute,
a resounding hymn for kings as recompense for their excellence.
15 They often sing about Kinyras,
the voices of the Cyprians, whom the golden-haired loved willingly, Apollo
γάρ, or more precisely ἐπὶ γάρ, introduces the antistrophe and functions as a join after the performative discontinuity. ἐπί is not followed by a dative (the word following γάρ is in the nominative) which suggests that it refers back to πώλους in line 8.  γάρ, meanwhile, points ahead, marking the current act as an elaboration, an unfolding of the claim made earlier (line 8). There is a shift in tense from aorist (ἀνέδησεν 6, εδάμασσε 8) to present (τίθησι), which accompanies a shift from the specific victory to the regular aid that Hieron receives from the gods (ὅταν 10), an extension of the general theme of divine aid. 
λέγειν | ἐν πτερόεντι τροχῷ |
παντᾷ κυλινδόμενον· |
τὸν εὐεργέταν ἀγαναῖς ἀμοιβαῖς ἐποιχομένους τίνεσθαι. |
25 ἔμαθε δὲ σαφές. | εὐμενέσσι γὰρ παρὰ Κρονίδαις |
γλυκὺν ἑλὼν βίοτον | (…)
on his feathered wheel,
spinning in all directions:
to go to one’s benefactor and pay him back with good deeds.
25 And he learned it clearly. Indeed, among the kind children of Kronos,
having had a sweet life, (…)
In the epode Pindar introduces the story of Ixion with φαντί (compare the example from Pythian 1, t4), followed by a gnomic thought attributed to Ixion. Since the gnṓmē occurs at the end of the epode, Pindar could have left it at that, but in the following line the third-person aorist form (ἔμαθε) followed by δέ suggests that the audience should assume continuity of grammatical subject at the start of the new strophe: Ixion is still in focus.  The actual narrative begins with γάρ (line 25), which introduces a clause that serves as an orientation for the narrative, in the form of a participial construction. The complication is introduced in the apodosis: μακρὸν οὐχ ὑπέμεινεν ὄλβον (line 26), and then the narrative unfolds. Only in lines 34-35 is it interrupted briefly by a gnomic thought, introduced by χρὴ δέ, a cluster that almost invariably starts gnômai in Pindar.  After Ixion’s misdeeds and his punishments have been discussed (26-41), the resolution of the story (starting with asyndeton, ἄνευ οἱ Χαρίτων τέκεν, 42) tells of the birth of a son from the union of Ixion and Hera-as-cloud, called Centaur, whose offspring with a mare in turn yields the familiar creatures that are half horse and half man. This rounds off the second epode (41-48).
ὃς ἀνέχει | τοτὲ μὲν τὰ κείνων, | τότ’ αὖθ’ ἑτέροις ἔδωκεν μέγα κῦδος. | ἀλλ’ οὐδὲ ταῦτα νόον
90 ἰαίνει φθονερῶν· | στάθμας δέ τινες ἑλκόμενοι
περισσᾶς | ἐνέπαξαν ἕλκος ὀδυναρὸν ἑᾷ πρόσθε καρδίᾳ, |
πρὶν ὅσα φροντίδι μητίονται τυχεῖν. |
φέρειν δ’ ἐλαφρῶς ἐπαυχένιον λαβόντα ζυγόν
ἀρήγει· | ποτὶ κέντρον δέ τοι
95 λακτιζέμεν | τελέθει
ὀλισθηρὸς οἶμος· | ἁδόντα δ’ εἴη με τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς ὁμιλεῖν. |
He raises up, sometimes the fate [lit. “things”] of those people,  then again to others does he gives great honor. But not even that
90 warms the mind of jealous men. Pulling some line
too far, they fix a painful wound into their own heart,
before they succeed in those things that they plan in their minds.
To carry lightly the yoke one has taken on one’s neck
95 is helpful. And I tell you, kicking against the goad
is a slippery course. Pleasing them, may it be granted to me to consort with the good.
Once again χρὴ δέ (line 88) introduces the gnomic thought, but it is followed by a change in direction marked by ἀλλά (line 89). ἀλλά here expresses no semantic contrast but rather marks a redirection of the discourse, and this use of the particle is decidedly more frequent in Homer and Pindar than it is in Attic Greek. In Homer this use appears most commonly in constructions where ἀλλά marks transitions to a move containing an imperative or a wish at the end of direct speech. In Pindar, however, it occurs at all kinds of re-orientations, thus often coinciding with move beginning. Here, the penultimate move of the song (lines 89-96) is concerned with the theme of envious men, but the meaning of the passage is ambiguous.  It leads on to the final act and final move of the song, introduced by δέ and containing a first-person pronoun (line 96), in which Pindar expresses a hope for himself.  As all Pindaric discourse, even this apparent personal statement implicitly praises the laudandus and the present audience.