Pindar, Dithyrambs Fragment 78 (trans. Sandys) (Greek lyric C5th B.C.

) :
"Harken! O Alala (War-shout), daughter of Polemos (War)! Prelude of spears! To whom
soldiers are sacrificed for their citys sake in the holy sacrifice of death."
Aristophanes, Peace 205 ff (trans. O'Neill) (Greek comedy C5th to 4th B.C.) :
"[Comedy in which Polemos, the daimon of war, traps Eirene (Peace) in a pit:]
Hermes: Because of their wrath against the Greeks. They [the gods] have located
Polemos (Daimon of War) in the house they occupied themselves [Olympos] and have
given him full power to do with you exactly as he pleases; then they went as high up as
ever they could, so as to see no more of your fights and to hear no more of your prayers.
Trygaios: What reason have they for treating us so?
Hermes: Because they have afforded you an opportunity for peace more than once, but
you have always preferred war. If the Lakonians got the very slightest advantage, they
would exclaim, By the Twin Brethren! the Athenians shall smart for this. If, on the
contrary, the latter triumphed and the Lakonians came with peace proposals, you would
say, By Demeter, they want to deceive us. No, by Zeus, we will not hear a word; they
will always be coming as long as we hold Pylos.
Trygaios: Yes, that is quite the style our folk do talk in.
Hermes: So that I don't know whether you will ever see Eirene (Peace) again.
Trygaios: Why, where has she gone to then?
Hermes: Polemos (War) has cast her into a deep pit.
Trygaios: Where?
Hermes: Down there, at the very bottom. And you see what heaps of stones he has piled
over the top, so that you should never pull her out again.
Trygaios: Tell me, what is Polemos (War) preparing against us?
Hermes: All I know is that last evening he brought along a huge mortar.
Trygaios: And what is he going to do with his mortar?
Hermes: He wants to pound up all the cities of Greece in it . . . But I must say good-bye,
for I think he is coming out; what an uproar he is making! (He departs in haste.)
Trygaios: Ah! great gods let us seek safety; I think I already hear the noise of this fearful
war mortar. (He hides.)
Polemos (War) (enters, carrying a huge mortar): Oh! mortals, mortals, wretched
mortals, how your jaws will snap!
Trygaios: Oh! divine Apollon! what a prodigious big mortar! Oh, what misery the very
sight of Polemos (War) causes me! This then is the foe from whom I fly, who is so
cruel, so formidable, so stalwart, so solid on his legs!
Polemos: Oh! Prasiai! thrice wretched, five times, aye, a thousand times wretched! for
thou shalt be destroyed this day. (He throws some leeks into the mortar.)
Trygaios (to the audience): This, gentlemen, does not concern us over much; it's only so
much the worse for the Lakonians.
Polemos: Oh! Megara! Megara! utterly are you going to be ground up! what fine
mincemeat are you to be made into! (He throws in some garlic.)
Trygaios (aside): Alas! alas! what bitter tears there will be among the Megarians!
Polemos (throwing in some cheese): Oh, Sikelia (Sicily)! you too must perish! Your

wretched towns shall be grated like this cheese. Now let us pour some Attic honey into
the mortar. (He does so.)
Trygaios (aside): Oh! I beseech you! use some other honey; this kind is worth four
obols; be careful, oh! be careful of our Attic honey.
Polemos: Hi! Kydoimos (daimon of Tumult), you slave there!
Kydoimos (Cydoemus, Tumult): What do you want?
Polemos: Out upon you! Standing there with folded arms! Take this cuff on the head for
your pains.
Kydoimos: Oh! how it stings! Master, have you got garlic in your fist, I wonder?
Polemos: Run and fetch me a pestle.
Kydoimos: But we haven't got one; it was only yesterday we moved.
Polemos: Go and fetch me one from Athens, and hurry, hurry!
Kydoimos: I'll hurry; if I return without one, I shall have no cause for laughing. (He
runs off.)
Trygaios (to the audience): Ah! what is to become of us, wretched mortals that we are?
See the danger that threatens if he returns with the pestle, for Polemos (War) will quietly
amuse himself with pounding all the towns of Hellas to pieces. Ah! Bakkhos! cause this
Herald of evil to perish on his road!
Polemos (to the returning Kydoimos): Well?
Kydoimos: Well, what?
Polemos: You have brought back nothing?
Kydoimos: Alas! the Athenians have lost their pestle--the tanner, who ground Greece to
powder.
Trygaios: Oh! Athene, venerable mistress! it is well for our city he is dead, and before
he could serve us with this hash.
Polemos: Then go and seek one at Sparta and have done with it!
Kydoimos: Aye, aye, master! (He runs off.)
Polemos (shouting after him): Be back as quick as ever you can.
Trygaios (to the audience): What is going to happen, friends? This is the critical hour.
Ah! if there is some initiate of Samothrake among you, this is surely the moment to
wish this messenger some accident-some sprain or strain.
Kydoimos (returning): Alas! alas! thrice again, alas [Kydoimos is still unable to find a
pestle]! . . . [Polemos and Kydoimos depart.]
Trygaios (coming out of his hiding-place): . . . Now, oh Greeks! is the moment when
freed of quarrels and fighting, we should rescue sweet Eirene (Peace) and draw her out
of this pit, before some other pestle prevents us. Come, labourers, merchants, workmen,
artisans, strangers, whether you be domiciled or not, islanders, come here, Greeks of all
countries, come hurrying here with picks and levers and ropes! . . .
(The Chorus enters; it consists of labourers and farmers from various Greek states.) . . .
Trygaios: Silence! if Polemos (War) should hear your shouts of joy he would bound
forth from his retreat in fury . . . You will work my death if you don't subdue your
shouts. Polemos (War) will come running out and trample everything beneath his feet."

Aesop, Fables 533 (from Babrius 70) (trans. Gibbs) (Greek fable C6th B.C.) :
"The gods were getting married. One after another, they all got hitched, until finally it
was time for Polemos (War) to draw his lot, the last of the bachelors. Hybris (Reckless
Pride) became his wife, since she was the only one left without a husband. They say
Polemos loved Hybris with such abandon that he still follows her everywhere she goes.
So do not ever allow Hybris to come upon the nations or cities of mankind, smiling
fondly at the crowds, because Polemos (War) will be coming right behind her."
Quintus Smyrnaeus, Fall of Troy 8. 424 ff (trans. Way) (Greek epic C4th A.D.) :
"Many of them [soldiers battling at Troy] dyed the earth red: aye waxed the havoc of
death as friends and foes were stricken. O'er the strife shouted for glee Enyo, sister of
Polemos (War)."
Virgil, Aeneid 6. 268 ff (trans. Fairclough) (Roman epic C1st B.C.) :
"[Aeneas is guided by the Sibyl on a journey through the Underworld:] On they went
dimly, beneath the lonely night amid the gloom, through the empty halls of Dis [Haides]
and his phantom realm . . . Just before the entrance, even within the very jaws of Orcus
[Haides], Luctus [Penthos, Grief] and avenging Curae (Cares) have set their bed; there
pale Morbi [Nosoi, Diseases] dwell, sad Senectus [Geras, Old-Age], and Metus
[Phobos, Fear], and Fames [Limos, hunger], temptress to sin, and loathly Egestas
[Aporia, Want], shapes terrible to view; and Letum [Thanatos, Death] and Labor
[Ponos, Toil]; next, Letum's (Death's) own brother Sopor [Hypnos, Sleep], and Gaudia
(the soul's Guilty Joys), and, on the threshold opposite, the death-dealing Bellum
[Polemos, War], and the Eumenides' [the Furies'] iron cells, and maddening Discordia
[Eris, Strife], her snaky locks entwined with bloody ribbons. In the midst an elm,
shadowy and vast, spreads her boughs and aged arms, the whome which, men say, false
Somnia [Oneiroi, Dreams] hold, clinging under every leaf."

Pindar, Fragments - Greek Lyric C5th B.C. Odes including Principal

Aristophanes, Peace - Greek Comedy C5th-4th B.C. ARISTOPHANES. The

Aesop, Fables - Greek Fables C6th B.C. AESOP. Fables. Translation by

Quintus Smyrnaeus, Fall of Troy - Greek Epic C4th A.D. The Fall of Troy.

Fragments. Translation by Sandys, J.

Loeb Classical Library Vol 56. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard
University Press

Complete Greek Drama. Translation by O'Neill, Eugene.

New York. Random House.
Myth Content: Low. Comedy p

Gibbs, Laura.
Oxford University Press: Oxford, 2002.

Translation by Way, A S.
Loeb Classical Library Vol . Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard
University Press.

Virgil, Aeneid - Latin Epic C1st B.C. The Aeneid. Translation by DayLewis, C.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Other references not currently quoted here: Heraclitus 53; Damascius de Principes 423
THE MAKHAI (or Machae) were the gods or spirits (daimones) of battle and
combat. The spirits Homados (Battle-Noise), Alala (War-Cry), Proioxis
(Onrush), Palioxis (Backrush), Ioke (Onslaught), Alke (Battle-Strength) and
Kydoimos (Confusion) were probably all numbered among the Makhai.

Hesiod, Theogony 226 ff (trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C8th or C7th B.C.)
:
"But abhorred Eris (Strife) bare painful Ponos (Toil), and Lethe
(Forgetfulness), and Limos (Starvation), and the Algea (Pains), full of
weeping, the Hysminai (Fightings) and the Makhai (Battles), the Phonoi
(Murders) and the Androktasiai (Manslaughters), the Neikea (Quarrels), the
Pseudo-Logoi (Lies), the Amphilogiai (Disputes), and Dysnomia
(Lawlessness) and Ate (Ruin), who share one another's natures, and Horkos
(Oath)."