It soon becomes plain that the passage is, at any rate in the main, trochaic. The first two lines scan easily, ending with a catalectic foot. We note that the third seems to drag at the end:—
– ⏑ – ⏑ – ⏑ – ⏑ – –
καρδι|ας τερ|ασκοπ|ου ποτ|αται,
for we remember that in the trochaic octonarius the last complete foot is never a spondee. But in the fourth line we are quite baffled:—
– ⏑ ⏑ – ⏑ ⏑ –
μαντιπ|ολει δ | ακελευστ|ος...?
Anapæsts are very rare in trochaics, iambi unknown. That the iambus should never replace the trochee is quite natural. It would be hideous rhythm, in the first line of Locksley Hall, instead of “Cómrades, leave me here a little ...,” to write “Dragoóns, leave me ...”. The foot ο̆λεῑ cannot be right. The line seems hopeless; or rather, if we have any knowledge of Homeric and Virgilian metre, we recognize something like the dactylic hexameter:—
– ⏑ ⏑ – ⏑ ⏑ – ⏑ ⏑ – ⏑ ⏑ – –
μαντιπολ|ει δ ακελ|ευστος αμ|ισθος α|οιδα.
But is such a passage possible in a trochaic passage written for Greek music? It is known that in Greek music the notes corresponded closely to the syllables; music composed for trochees will certainly be in three-eighths time, for dactyls in four-eighths time. All these feet should have three beats, not four.
The next two lines are plainly similar to the first and second. In the seventh line we first wonder why, though we are in the midst of a grammatical sentence, the words should begin farther to the right than is usual, as if for a new paragraph. When we try to scan, we find once more the iambus-difficulty:—
– ⏑ – – ⏑ –
θαρσος | ευπειθ|ες ιζ....