At some time during the years 398–395 B.C. the people of Rhodes revolted against Sparta, freed themselves from the oppression of the Spartan empire and admitted to their city the Persian fleet commanded by Conon, the Athenian. This fact was overlooked by Xenophon, but reported by Diodorus (14. 79. 6) and Pausanias (6. 7. 6) who quotes Androtion. It seemed, before the discovery of the Hellenica Oxyrhynchia, that the revolt of Rhodes from Sparta was in some way associated with internal party strife, for Xenophon relates that exiled Rhodian oligarchs appealed to Sparta for help in 391 B.C. Such an interrelation between internal politics and foreign policy had, of course, been a feature of Greek political life since the early years of the Peloponnesian War, as Thucydides was not slow to recognize. The discovery of the Hellenica Oxyrhynchia, which devotes a chapter to a democratic revolution at Rhodes in 395 B.C, provided a good deal of new information on the political situation in that city, notably that, contrary to what we might have expected, the revolt from Sparta and the democratic revolution were not contemporaneous. Let us review briefly the details of these two events as far as our information permits.

Cicero, de div. i. 107, has preserved the longest fragment of the Annals: a piece of twenty lines, describing how Romulus and Remus took the auspices to decide which of them should found, give his name to, and rule over the city. Mommsen, Ges. Schr. iv. 1 ff., declared that such auspice-taking was incompatible with Roman augural practice and indeed with the whole nature of augury: the birds could approve or disapprove but not select; selection had to be done by lot (p. 11). The impossible story, he argued, arose when the twin (Remus according to him, Romulus according to P. Kretschmer, Glotta i [1909], 294 ff.) intruded into the original version which knew of one founder only; the auspices, because they were an integral part of that version, had to be adapted to the two actors. Little is heard of Mommsen's theory now; but it seems to have been contradicted explicitly only by E. Petersen, Klio ix (1909), 42, and since his arguments, such as the finding of the large grape by Attus Navius (Cicero, de div. 1. 31), are perhaps not decisive, the point must be briefly settled.

The second play of the trilogy begins with the appearance before Agamemnon's tomb of the long-absent Orestes, who prays to Hermes for aid in his revenge and then dedicates upon the tomb a lock of hair cut from his own head. He is interrupted by the entrance of Electra together with the captive women who form the Chorus; in consequence of an evil dream, Clytemnestra has sent them to pour a libation to the spirit of her murdered husband. After discussion with the Chorus, Electra resolves to accompany that libation not with words of appeasement, but with a prayer for her father's help in taking revenge upon his murderers. Going to the tomb to pour the libation, she notices upon it the lock put there by Orestes (168). She notices that the hair is like her own, and at once suspects that it may be her brother's. ‘How can he have dared to come here?’ the Chorus ask her (179); and she replies that he must have sent the lock from his place of exile. The thought that Orestes' return is impossible plunges both the Chorus and Electra into deep sorrow, and in tears Electra broods over the lock (183 f.). It can belong only to Orestes; she wishes it could speak, so that either she could know it not to be his, or else it could at least take part with her in mourning. At this point, if we cantrusttheone manuscript, Electra breaks off her reflections with a prayer (201–4). ‘But we call upon the gods,’ she says, ‘well do they know by what storms, like sailors, we are buffeted; but if we are fated to find safety, from a small seed may grow a mighty trunk.’ Next, if we are to trust what is transmitted, Electra catches sight of a new indication of her brother's presence. ‘Yes, and here are tracks,’ she says (205 f.), ‘a second indication, the tracks of feet matching each other and resembling mine. Yes, for here are two outlines of feet, his own and those of some companion. The heels and the outlines of the tendons agree in their proportions with my prints. I am in torment, and my wits are confounded.’

This important and extensive fragment of the Catalogues is preserved on a papyrus of the third century A.D., no. 10560 in the Berlin collection. First published in 1907 by Schubart and Wilamowitz, Berliner Klassikertexte, v. 1. 31 ff. (with photograph of col. i, 1–25), it was also collated by Crönert, who published his readings (often differing from Schubart-Wilamowitz) in Hermes xlii (1907), 610 ff. The most recent edition is that of Merkelbach, Die Hesiod-fragmente auf Papyrus (1957), pp. 24 ff. The photograph mentioned above is the only one published. It covers only a small portion of the text; most of the rest is too faint to be suitable for photography.