To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
‘The Battle of Marathon, even as an event in English history, is more important than the Battle of Hastings. If the issue of that day had been different (if the Greeks had not won), the Britons and Saxons might still be wandering in the woods.’
(J. S. Mill, Edinburgh Review, October 1846, 343)
‘Truth-loving Persians do not dwell upon
The trivial skirmish fought near Marathon.
…a mere reconnaissance in force
By three brigades of foot and one of horse…’
(Robert Graves, The Persian Version, 1945)
‘We laugh at small children when they try to put on the boots and wear the garlands of their fathers; but when the leaders in the cities crazily stir up the masses by telling them to mimic the deeds and spirits and achievements of their forefathers, totally unsuited as those are to present crises and circumstances, their actions are laughable, but their sufferings are no laughing matter – unless they are simply treated with contempt…As for Marathon, Eurymedon, and Plataia, and those examples that just make the crowds swell with pride and haughtiness: just leave them in the rhetoricians' schoolrooms.’
(Plutarch, Advice on Public Life 17 814a–c)
‘He [Steven Runciman] never entirely retracted his mischievous but genuinely inquisitive view that Europe might have ended up a more historically interesting, culturally various continent had the Persians won the Battle of Marathon.’
(Dinshaw 2016: 565)
Mill and Runciman exaggerate: Marathon, fought on the east coast of Attica in 490 bc, was not even the decisive battle of the Persian Wars, still less of British or European history. Yet Graves’ mischievous poem is wrong too. Marathon was more than a ‘trivial skirmish’. True, if Persia had won Athens would have survived, and the returning tyrant Hippias would still have had a city to rule. The fate of Eretria (101.3n.) shows what would have happened. Temples and sacred places would have been burned, as they were to be in 480 (8.50, 53); some citizens, especially perhaps the best-looking boys and girls (cf. 32), would have been deported to Persia to make good Dareios’ threat and instructions (94.2), but by no means all – the ships would only take so many; most important of all, this would count as ‘enslavement’ (94.2) to the Persian king, with the blow to human self-respect that this meant.
As explained in the Preface to Hornblower's edition of bk. 5 (2013), most of the sections of the Introduction to that volume covered bks. 5 and 6 together. The Introduction to the present volume does not, therefore, revisit every aspect of every topic covered there. The promises there made, about postponement of certain topics – Herodotus on Kleomenes, Aigina, and Homer – until the Introduction to bk. 6, have been kept, but not by the straightforward inclusion of entire sections with those titles. We have nowhere attempted a separate section on Herodotus’ sources for bks. 5 and 6. More than a century ago, Felix Jacoby (1913: cols. 419–67 [1956: 114–38]) heroically went through the whole of the Histories, assigning sections to sources. The trouble with this sort of operation, certainly unfashionable in 2016, is that some such suggestions are much more plausible than others, so that the question is best dealt with in notes to individual passages.
Brevity has been at a premium throughout. We particularly regret that our references to modern scholarship have often had to be perfunctory, giving the impression of much more originality than we can claim.
As in bk. 5, we use bold type, for clarity and brevity, when referring to chapter numbers of the book which is the actual subject of our commentary; thus 70.2n. = ‘see note on 6.70.2’. For references to Hornblower's 2013 commentary on bk. 5, we have said e.g. ‘see 5.126.1n.’, because we regard bks. 5 and 6, and therefore also the commentaries on them, as a continuum. For the most part we follow Herodotus’ own spelling of personal names and place names, but we apologise for inconsistency; in particular we could not, as children of the 1960s, bring ourselves to talk about Hippies when discussing the Peisistratid tyrant.
We acknowledge gratefully the insights provided by the contributors to two Oxford seminar series: a graduate class on bk. 6 in 2011, and a seminar series on the ‘green and yellow Herodotus’ in 2013, covering all nine books, and addressed by the editors of individual volumes. Hornblower would also like to repeat his 2013 thanks to those UCL MA students who attended his two-term class on bks. 5 and 6 in 2009–10.
Well-known as a brilliant general and politician, Julius Caesar also played a fundamental role in the formation of the Latin literary language and remains a central figure in the history of Latin literature. With twenty-three chapters written by renowned scholars, this Companion provides an accessible introduction to Caesar as an intellectual along with a scholarly assessment of his multiple literary accomplishments and new insights into their literary value. The Commentarii and Caesar's lost works are presented in their historical and literary context. The various chapters explore their main features, the connection between literature, state religion and politics, Caesar's debt to previous Greek and Latin authors, and his legacy within and outside of Latin literature. The innovative volume will be of great value to all students and scholars of Latin literature and to those seeking a more rounded portrait of the achievements of Julius Caesar.
Roman comedy evolved early in the war-torn 200s BCE. Troupes of lower-class and slave actors traveled through a militarized landscape full of displaced persons and the newly enslaved; together, the actors made comedy to address mixed-class, hybrid, multilingual audiences. Surveying the whole of the Plautine corpus, where slaves are central figures, and the extant fragments of early comedy, this book is grounded in the history of slavery and integrates theories of resistant speech, humor, and performance. Part I shows how actors joked about what people feared - natal alienation, beatings, sexual abuse, hard labor, hunger, poverty - and how street-theater forms confronted debt, violence, and war loss. Part II catalogues the onstage expression of what people desired: revenge, honor, free will, legal personhood, family, marriage, sex, food, free speech; a way home, through memory; and manumission, or escape - all complicated by the actors' maleness. Comedy starts with anger.