Aristophanes and the political parties at Athens; translated by James Loeb

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ARISTOPHANES AND THE POLITICAL
PARTIES AT ATHENS

MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited

LONDON BOMBAY • CALCUTTA
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TORONTO

ARISTOPHANES

AND

THE POLITICAL PARTIES
AT ATHENS

BY

MAURICE CROISET

TRANSLATED BY

JAMES LOEB, A.B.

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED

ST MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON

1909

)^P7 197Z //

— — '...x'"'

GLASGOW : PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS
BY ROBERT MACLEBOSE AND CO. LTD.

THE TEANSLATOR'S PREFACE

My English version of the late Monsieur Paul Decharme's
Eurijpide et I'esprit de sou Theatre met with so friendly a
reception at the hands of both public and press, that I felt
encouraged to translate the present excellent work by Mon-
sieur Maurice Croiset, who very courteously gave me per-
mission to do so.

In this volume the attentive reader will find, not only a
very scholarly treatment of the difficult question, so often
discussed, of Aristophanes' attitude toward the political parties
of his time and of the political purpose of his comedies, but
also a very vivid account of many of the phases of Athenian
life which he has satirized or held up to ridicule.

I cherish the hope that this book will lead some of its
readers to refresh their school-day memories of Attica's brilliant
comic poet, and others to make the acquaintance, at first hand,
or through translation, of one of the most original and enter-
taining geniuses that ancient culture can boast of.

In rendering the quotations from the plays into English I
have made frequent use of Mr. Benjamin Bickley Rogers'
masterly metrical translation and of the refreshing notes to
Dr. W. W. Merry's edition of the plays.

To my friend and teacher, Professor John Williams White,
of Harvard University, I am greatly indebted for generously
contributing an introduction to this volume. He has placed
me under an additional obligation by making a critical revision
of my translation, and I owe him thanks for constant encour-
agement in the performance of a pleasant task.

JAMES LOEB, A.B.

Ml'xiCH, August, 1909.

PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR

The political history of Athenian comedy in the fifth century
has yet to be written. Not that the connection of this form
of literature with contemporary events has not been fully
recognized. All writers of the history of ancient Greece, with-
out exception, have profited by the very varied and interesting
information which is scattered through Aristophanes' extant
plays and in the fragments of contemporary writers of comedy.
Some of them, indeed, have done so with an erudition and
an acamen which leave nothing to be desired. From this
point of view, Athenian comedy appears to have supplied
all the material that one could expect of it, at least for the
present. It should be remarked, however, that, in the works
to which I have alluded, it has quite naturally been treated as
a simple collection of documents. This amounts to saying
that, in these works, Athenian comedy is not studied by itself
and for its own sake — in its tricks and turns, in its relations
to the life of the people, in the personality and special gifts
of its writers.

The history of literature, it is true, busies itself with just
some of those phases of the investigation which are more or
less neglected by political history. It seems to portray the
psychology of the writers and of their audience ; it shows the
development of the various styles and analyses their diverse
forms ; it notes and discriminates traditions that l)ecame
fixed as laws, and describes the special characteristics of each
mind. These methods, when applied to the political part of
Athenian comedy, may lead to its better appreciation. In

viii PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR

fact, they have, in no mean degree, contributed toward making
our knowledge of it increasingly sound and exact. But, after
all, politics is only a secondary consideration in the study of
literature, and has only incidental relation to it.

A proper political history of Athenian comedy should there-
fore be based both upon general history and upon literary
history, and yet be different from either. Its special object
should be to study to what extent comedy as a whole, and
each~]poet in particular, was influenced by political events,
customs, public opinion and society, considered in its divisions
into classes and factions ; and, on the other hand, to what
extent society, customs and public opinion were influenced by
comedy and its authors. It should follow the comic style from
year to year, let us witness the composition of each of its great
creations, tell us of the suggestions received by the poet, and of
his intentions and of his likes and dislikes. It should take us
to the theatre and make us onlookers, as it were, at the per-
formances, acquaint us with the impressions gained by the
audience, with the intrigues, the verdict of the judges, and
finally, it should discuss and explain what may have been the
effect of it all. One can readily imagine how greatly such
an account would interest a person who cared to become
acquainted with the inner workings of political life at Athens
during the fifth century.

Unfortunately it must be admitted that such a plan cannot
be carried out at this late day. Most of the comic poets
of that time are merely names to us. Their works are lost,
barring a few titles and fragments, which, in most cases, are
not sufficient even to enable us to determine the subjects of
the plays to which they belong. The dates of these plays are
nearly all unknown. We know practically nothing of the
relations of the authors, either among themselves or with their
contemporaries. Under such conditions, an attempt at history
could be naught else than a tissue of guesswork or a series of
avowals of ignorance.

I hardly need say that I have never for a moment dreamed
of imdertaking it. Aristophanes is really the only one of the
comic poets of that period of whom we can speak with due

PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR ix

knowledge, and it is only with him that I have thought
it possible to deal. But it is evident that what is said
about one poet in particular, may often chance to apply to
others of his contemporaries who cultivated the same style.
So regarded, this series of essays may serve as a contribution
to a history written on a much larger scale, of which an out-
line has just been given. But it must be understood, at the
outset, that it does not claim in itself to constitute even a
complete chapter in such a history. "We are ignorant of too
many important facts about Aristophanes himself. Only
eleven of his plays have come down to us ; he wrote forty.^
Of his biography and his personality we know merely what
he has told us here and there in his parabases or in the words
of his dramatis personae. It is with such very insufificient
documents that the attempt must be made to answer difficult
and necessarily obscure questions.

Those which constitute the real subject of this book bear
almost exclusively upon Aristophanes' relations with the poli-
tical parties that were active at Athens in his day. A rapid
perusal of his plays is sufficient to reveal him as an adversary
of the men who, at that time, exerted a preponderating influ-
ence on the foreign and domestic politics of his country.
Does it follow that he was, properly speaking, an enemy of
democracy as such, or even of the democracy which existed
in the city at that period ? It is true that he attacked it
when he attacked its leaders ? And if he effectively criticised
it in some instances at least, what was the meaning of his
criticism and from what did it arise ? Did he wish to discredit
democracy, with a view to bringing about its complete trans-
formation, or simply to warn it, with a view to aiding it in
correcting some of its shortcomings ? And again, was he, when
writing his plays, the interpreter or mouth-piece of an organized
opposition that was aware of his views and of the means he
employed ? Or, on the contrary, did he take counsel of him-
self only ? Such, approximately, are the questions which the

^ This excludes the four plaj's which, even in antiquity, were considered
apocryphal : Uoi-rjais, 'Savayos, N^crot, Nio/3os. Vid. Kaibel, art. "Aristophanes,"
12, in Pauly-Wissowa.

X PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR

reader will encounter and that I have tried to solve in the
following chapters.

These questions, of course, have not been ignored hitherto.
Indeed nearly all the scholars, historians, or writers who
have occupied themselves with Aristophanes, have made a
point of saying what they thought about them. The prin-
cipal works in which these opinions have been stated or
vindicated will be found in the notes to this volume. It is
not necessary to quote their titles here. I need hardly say
that if these opinions had completely satisfied me, it would
not have occurred to me to write another book on the same
subject. On the other hand, I am far from considering them
as generally incorrect. Truth, in historical and literary
studies, gains its full value only through nicety in the dif-
ferentiation of the facts that reveal it. It is only to the task
of better pointing out these differentiations and of arranging
them in a better manner that I thought I could profitably
devote myself. My conclusions, as will subsequently appear,
take issue only with preconceived opinions and unqualified
statements.

The first suggestion of this undertaking came with the
perusal of the book written some years ago by my lamented
comrade and friend Auguste Couat — Aristophane et I'ancicnne
ComMie attique} In this work, which is replete with
facts and stimulating ideas, I had met with several opinions,
on the subject under discussion, that aroused my serious
doubts. Frequent reflection intensified these doubts and
led me to write this book. As, in substance, it records a
difference of opinion between Couat and myself, I am par-
ticularly desirous of minimizing this difference, as far as may
be, by here rendering sincere homage to the great value of his
work.

October 1905.

^ Paris, Lec^iie et Oudin, 1SS9; second edition, 1903.

INTEODUCTION TO THE ENGLISH VERSION

Aristophanes is an elusive poet. The main religious convic-
tions of Aeschylus may be determined with certainty from his
extant plays ; attentive study of the dramas of Euripides
reveals his cardinal opinions on politics, society and religion,
and his philosophic attitude ; but who can affirm with con-
fidence that he has penetrated the comic mask of Aristophanes
and knows his beliefs ? The poet's mocking irony baffles and
perplexes his reader at almost every turn.

puvr]Kau o Aeyet ; — /ma rov KiroWw yw jmev ou.

One element of the poet's irony is his apparent frankness.
He has at times the air of desiring to be taken seriously and
seems to be expressing honest convictions. He is very sug-
gestive and provokes reflection, but the attempt to reduce his
opinions to system reveals the illusion. We become uneasily
conscious that the great satirist is laughing behind his mask.

A proof of this deceptive quality of the poet's humor is
found in the diversity of the opinions that have been held as
to his purpose in writing. It was once the fashion among
modern interpreters to take him very seriously, — the comic
poet disappeared in the reformer. He was eulogized as a
moralist and patriot, whose lofty purpose was to instruct his
fellow-countrymen ; as an earnest thinker, who had reflected
deeply on the problems of society and government and had
made Comedy simply the vehicle of his reforming ideas ; as a
wise and discerning counsellor, who was competent to advise
the citizens of Athens at a critical time on political questions

xii INTRODUCTION TO ENGLISH VERSION

and whose juclgnieni of men and measures was sound ; as a
stern man withal, resohite in the performance of duty, the
implacable and victorious foe of all, wherever found, who
undermined the glory of Athens. This view, which Grote
combated {History of Greece, Ixvii.), finds vigorous expression
in the Apology of Eobert Browning :

" Next, whom thrash ?
Only the coaise fool and the clownish knave ?
No ! strike malpractice that atfects the State,
The common weal — intriguer or poltroon.
Venality, corruption, what care I
If shrewd or witless merely ? — so the thing
Lay sap to aught that made Athenai bright
And happy, change her customs, lead astray
Youth or age, play the demagogue at Pnux,
The sophist in Palaistra, or — what's worst,
As widest mischief, — from the Theatre
Preach innovation, bring contempt on oaths.
Adorn licentiousness, despise the Cult. . . .

But my soul bade Tight !
Prove arms efficient on real heads and hearts ! ' . . .
I wield the Comic weapon rather — hate !
Hate ! honest, earnest and directest hate —
Warfare wherein I close with enemy. . . .
Such was my purpose : it succeeds, I say !
Have we not beaten Kallicratidas,
Not humbled Sparte ? Peace awaits our word.
Since my previsions, — warranted too well
By the long war now waged and worn to end —
Had spared such heritage of misery.
My after-counsels scarce need fear repulse.
Athenai, taught pi'osperity has wings.
Cages the glad recapture."

Thus vaunts the poet, as Browning interprets him, just
after the great victory won at Arginusae. ' Sparta is at our
feet, a new day dawns, the "War is at an end. For Athens
has at length learnt the bitter lesson she might have been
spared had she yielded to my pleas for peace.' The actual
history of the next twelve months is pathetic. The battle at
Arginusae, in which Callicratidas fell, restored the maritime

INTRODUCTION TO ENGLISH VERSION xiii

supremacy of Athens, but peace was not secured. The Spar-
tans made overtures, but the Athenian people, paying small
lieed to the ' good counsels ' that their Poet had given them
in the Acharnians, the Peace, the Lysistrata, and in other
comedies no longer extant, followed the lead of drunken
Cleophon and rejected the Spartan proposals, just as five
years before they had committed the grave error of accepting
liis advice after the Athenian victory at Cyzicus. Sparta
bestirred herself, Lysander was sent out, and within a year
Athenian arms suffered irretrievable reverse at Aegospotami.

The poet's counsels of peace were rejected. Peace came
only with disaster. His ' sage ' solutions of ' many other
burning Cjuestions were equally ineffective. i^Jf Aristophanes
was working for reform, as a long line of learned interpreters
of the poet have maintained, the result was lamentably dis-
appointing : he succeeded in effecting not a single change. ^
He wdngs the shafts of his incomparable wit at all the popular
leaders of the day — Cleon, Hyperbolus, Peisander, Cleophon,
Agyrrhius, in succession, and is reluctant to unstring his bow
even when they are dead. But he drove no one of them from
power : there is little evidence, indeed, that he damaged their
influence or even disturbed their brazen self-confidence. Cleon,
when the poet's libellous personal abuse became even in his
judgment indecent, promptly brought him to his knees. "When
Cleon pressed me hard and tanned my hide, and outsiders
laughed to see the sport, I confess " — Aristophanes says in the
"Wasps — " I played the ape a bit." He adds significantly that
he failed to get popular support in this quarrel. The inference
is that the people did not think 1)adly of Cleon ; but modern
opinion of the popular leaders in Athens, formed, on the
evidence that Aristophanes is supposed to furnish, has Ijeen
persistently unfavorable, and Cleon's rehabilitation as a saga-
cious, if turbulent, statesman who consistently maintained the
imperial policy of Pericles has been slow.

The poet vehemently protested, it has been said, against
the New Education, and viewing the whole intellectual ten-
dency of his time with alarm, pleaded for a restoration of the
simple discipline that had moulded the morals and minds and

xiv INTRODUCTION TO ENGLISH VERSION

manners of the hardy men who fought at Marathon, Further-
more, he clearly apprehended the evils inherent in the Athenian
system of judicature, which committed the administration of
justice to a horde of common men, ignorant of the law, swayed
by the impulse of the moment, ' monsters of caprice and in-
justice,' and ruthlessly exposed the unrighteousness of its
proceedings. Finally, reverent of the best traditions of the
stage, he stood forth, it is alleged, as their uncompromising
defender, and sternly resisted the innovations that were gradu-
ally changing the spirit and the form of tragedy during the
last third of the century and for a generation relentlessly
pursued their chief exponent, concealing an attack that was
meant to ruin him under the veil of caricature, parody, bur-
lesque, and satire. But Socrates still frequented, winter and
summer, the gymnasia, the market and the schools, and the
Sophists continued to discourse and draw their pay; Philocleon,
after a single experience of the pleasures of polite society,
again foregathered with his cronies before the dawn of day
and trudged away to Court; and Euripides, calmly disregarding
the malicious strictures of his youthful critic, continued to
write tragedy in his own manner and to present on the stage
plays that were heard by the young men of Athens with wild
acclaim.

This extreme conception of the function of Greek comedy
as chiefly censorial and monitory has been modified with larger
and more exact knowledge of the times in which the poet lived
and of the conditions of life under which he wrote, but it has
had unfortunate consequences. These plays have been regarded
as a trustworthy source of information in establishing the facts
of Greek history, biography, and institutions. So serious an
interpretation of a form of literature of which the primary
intention must always be entertainment and amusement
inevitably obscured the poet's elusive humor. A jest became
a statement of fact, a caricature a portrait, a satire a document.
The poet's conception, clothed in a fantastical disguise that
rivalled the grotesque dress of his own actors, has been essen-
tially misapprehended in an entire play.

On the other hand the mistaken disposition, recently

INTRODUCTION TO ENGLISH VERSION xv

manifested, to regard Aristophanes simply as a jester and ''
to deny that he had any other purpose than to provoke
laughter is an extreme, though natural, reaction.^ This view
denies at the same time, as might have been expected, the
cathartic efficacy of Greek tragedy. The highest comedy,
typed in the earlier plays of Aristophanes, and in some of
the comedies of Moliere, is regenerative. The purpose of
Aristophanes in the Acharnians, in which the action turns
upon the impossible and fantastic whimsey of an Athenian
farmer securing peace with Sparta for himself and his family
alone, is to ridicule the war-party. Nobody would have been
more amused than the poet, if he had been told that his play
was to stop the fighting, but he did believe that the War was
an evil and so far his heart was honestly in his theme ; and I
have no doubt that many a man who had laughed uproariously
at the peace-loving farmer set single-handed in the comedy
against a quarrelsome chorus, a powerful general, the whole
tribe of sycophants, and the demagogue Cleon in the back-
ground, went home from the play less content w"ith the course
of his political leaders and longing in his heart for the good,
old days of peace. The instrument by which the poet probed
the popular discontent was that most* effective of all means
when skilfully used — a^ laugh.

To regard Aristophanes as merely a jester is to mistake
the man. Eidicule of contemporary persons, that is generally
good-natured, or systems or prevailing ideas is his main pur-
pose, I think, in his plays. His praise is for the dead. This
ridicule, which ranges from satire to airy conceit, is made
humorous by centering it in a far-fetched fantastic conception
that is not the less available if it is impossible. Facts are
exaggerated or invented with superb nonchalance and be-
wildering semblance of reality. In these mad revels of
unrestrained fancy it is difficult to lay hands upon Aristo-
phanes the man. Nevertheless we do discover probable
indications of his attachments and beliefs. He lived in an
age of intellectual unrest when many vital questions pressed
for solution. Jhat a man of his intelligence did not give
them consideration and reach conclusions is impossible.

xvi INTRODUCTION TO ENGLISH VERSION

No doubt he detested a debauchee — let Ariphrades bear
witness, — but he must have sympathized with the revolt
of the young men of his day against the severe and meagre
discipline in which youth were trained during the first half
of the century, and must have shared in their eager interest
in the new subjects of knowledge. No doubt he deprecated
the vicious use of the skill for which Strepsiades clamors in
the Clouds, but he had too keen a mind to fail to distinguish
between the right and the wrong use of this power or to reject
all study of the art of persuasion because it might be abused.
He was himself a skilful dialectician, as the Debates found in
nearly all his comedies prove. He was acquainted with
Socrates and must have known that he never misused his
wonderful dialectical power and must have felt an expert's
special thrill of pleasure in observing with what skill he
employed it. Furthermore, the times in which the poet lived
were troublous, the fate of Athens again and again stood on
the razor's edge. He was not indifferent to the welfare of
his country nor of his fellow-countrymen. There is a serious
undertone in the Acharnians that gives it an indescribable
elevation, and in the Lysistrata, a Eabelaisian play, written
after the disaster to Athenian arms in Sicily in which,
Thucydides records, fleet and army utterly perished and of
the many who went forth few returned home, there are
verses of intensest pathos that betray the poet's poignant
sympathy,

"oi'/c ear IV aviip ev rtj yjipa] jua A/' ov Stjr', elcj)' eTepo^ T19."

Aristophanes, then, was a man of quick sympathies and
settled convictions, although positive expression of belief and
feeling is naturally rare in his plays, since he was a writer
of comedy. Despite this reticence, it is both interesting and
important to determine, so far as this may be done, his
opinions on the questions that in his day were pressing for
answer, and among these especially his political position.
Was he an aristocrat ? Was he, in particular, as M. Couat
believed, a pamphleteer in the pay of the aristocrats ? Or
was he a democrat ? And if a democrat, how is the satirical

INTRODUCTION TO ENGLISH VERSION xvii

— but extremely comical — characterization of Athenian Demus
in the Knights, which his countrymen viewed with good-
natured amusement, to be interpreted ? To these weighty and
significant questions M. Croiset makes convincing answer in
the book which Mr. Loeb now publishes in an English version.

JOHN WILLIAMS WHITE.

Harvard Uxiversitt,

September 1, 1909.

CONTENTS

PAOK

The Translator's Preface v

Preface by the Author vii

Introduction to the English Version . . . . xi

INTRODUCTION .... 1

CHAPTER I.

THE BEGINNING OF ARISTOPHANES' CAREER

The Banqueters, 427. The Babylonians, 426. The
6 acharnians, 425 29

CHAPTER n.

The Knights, 424 61

CHAPTER HI.
The Clouds, 423. The Wasps, 422. The Peace, 421 . 89

XX CONTENTS

CHAPTER IV.

SECOND PERIOD. THE SICILIAN AND
DECELEIAN WAKS

PAGE

The Bikds, 4U. The Lysistrata and the Thesmo-

PHORIAZUSAE, 411. ThE FrOGS, 405 . . . .115

CHAPTER V.

LAST PERIOD

The Ecclesiazusae, 392. The Plutus, 388 . . .164

jf Analytical Index .... 187

ARISTOPHANES AND THE POLITICAL
PARTIES AT ATHENS

INTRODUCTION

Athenian comedy was essentially rural in its origin. How-
ever great the obscurity of its primitive history, we do at
least know that it took form, in the sixth century B.C., in the
country districts of Attica.

It had its beginning in the rustic masquerades that
travelled from village to village with their songs, during the
festivals of Dionysus, the god of wine. Sooner or later,
grotesque actors seem to have associated themselves with
these choruses, wearing the costume and imitating the
indecent buffoonery of the Peloponnesian peasants who had
long been representing in dance and pantomime the exuberant
life of certain deities of nature. It was from them, perhaps,
that comedy adopted also the imitation, in caricature, of real
life, which it was not slow to develop in an original manner.
At all events the mixture of the most extravagant imagina-
tion and the most daring satire was its strength and assured
its future.

As long as comedy served merely as a pastime of the
peasants, this satire, however free it may have been, had little
influence ; it did not spread beyond the village, or at most
the district. But when it penetrated into those demes half
urban, half rustic, which, in the time of Peisistratus and hie
sons, constituted suburban Athens, and later, when toward ths
beginning of the fifth century it was admitted to the festivals
of Dionysus that were celebrated in the city proper, and
the State gave it a place in the official contests, things

2 INTRODUCTION

necessarily changed. Thereafter comedy had to take cog-
nizance of the events and of the men who engaged attention
in these new surroundings. It retained its fertile imagination
and its bufibonery, but it aimed its shafts against people of
more importance. At first it did so in what Aristotle calls
the " iambic " form : that is to say, by attacking, apparently,
persons rather than ideas, as Archilochus had done in earlier
days, and without binding itself to the regular development of a
dramatic theme. Later on, and bit by bit, it learned the art of
construction, and attempted, with increasing success, to invent
comic ideas and to exploit them ; it constructed regular stories
or plots and endowed them with a certain logical quality, and,
as a consequence, with a degree of unity. It even ventured
on arguments and maintained theses on politics and morals. It
is at this stage of its development that comedy appears in the
hands of Aristophanes, in the first period of the Peloponnesian
war, shortly after 431.

The spirit that pervaded it was naturally that of the majority
of its audience. We must therefore try to picture to ourselves
the elements of which this majority was constituted, and like-
wise the relations existing between it and its favorite poets.

Thucydides, in his account of the beginnings of the war in
431, has given us, with his customary precision, a description
of the kind of life the greater part of the Athenians led at
that time. He informs us that they followed the advice of
Pericles and decided to abandon their rural habitations, even to
destroy them in part, to convey their flocks and their cattle
either into Euboea or to the neighboring islands, and to take
refuge themselves, with their wives and children, within the
fortified enclosure of Athens. " This change," he adds, " was
very painful to them, for the greater 'part of the Athenians
had been acctistomed for generations to live in the country."^
That was, as he points out, an immemorial tradition in Attica,
and even the destruction of the earlier political and religious
centres, credited to Theseus, had not altered it. From the
time that Athens had become the only city, the ancient towns
of the district were transformed into hamlets, but habits
1 Thucydides, ii. cap. xiv.

INTRODUCTION 3

remained the same. Families continued to reside on their
estates, large or small, grouped in domestic communities which
rarely sliifted their sites. The second Persian war had passed
over these country districts like a destructive cyclone, but
when the region was again free, the burned or ruined houses
were rebuilt and the accustomed life was resumed. " For this
reason," says the historian, " it was very hard for them to
abandon their dwellings and those local forms of worship which,
since the ancient towns had existed, had ever been handed
down from father to son ; besides, it was a sore trial to them
to find themselves obliged to change their manner of life, and
it seemed to each one of them as though he were deserting from
his native town." ^ This statement is of very great interest,
and has not been sufficiently considered in its bearings on
comedy. It clearly shows that, during the whole period in
which comedy was developing, the greatest part of the
Athenian democracy was ruial in fact as well as in its way of
thinking.^

Thus, prior to the Peloponnesian war, the urban democracy
really constituted a minority, and this minority was not even
absolutely compact. Its most active part consisted of those
who lived at the Piraeus.^ Here were assembled the sea-
faring folk, and all those who furnished them with what
they neecled, or who helped them in their various tasks —
builders, longshoremen, manufacturers and merchants of every
description, pedlars, bankers — a population without tradi-
tions, without attachment to the soil, with a considerable
admixture of resident aliens (fxeroiKoi) and in constant con-
tact with foreigners. Life there was necessarily more agitated,
more subject to chance, and, in a word, quite untouched by
conservative traditions.

^ Thucydides, ii. c. xvi.

- These rural dwellings were naturally much more comfortable than those in
the city. There was ample room, and life was agreeable. See, on this
subject, Isocrates, Areopagit. 52 ; cf. G. Gilbert, Beitrdge zur mnertn
Geachichte Athena im Zeitalter des Pelopon. Krieges, p. 98 et seq., Leipzig,
1877.

^Busolt, Griechische Geschichle, vol. iii. first part, p. 489.

4 INTRODUCTION

The city proper, which was rapidly growing larger round
about the Acropolis, formed a bridge, as it were, between this
turbulent maritime democracy and the peaceful rural demo-
cracy. Here a certain number of rich citizens had their city
houses in which they resided part of the year. Kound about
them dwelt a population of moderate means — merchants,
business men, owners of factories — who together made up that
class so precious to the prosperity of the state, whose praises
Euripides has sung in a celebrated passage in his Suppliants}
But in proportion as Athenian industry had developed, there
had grown up, in that large city, a proletariat that lived from
hand to mouth on the gains of their daily toil. These earners
of small wages were naturally often inclined to espouse the
cause of the radicals of the Piraeus. Thus, there were in
close proximity to one another two very different elements,
which were either counterbalanced, or gained ascendancy in
turn, according to circumstances.

To return to the rural democracy — there is no room for
doubt that it likewise was very devoted to Athenian institu-
tions. Solon's laws, in the beginning of the sixth century,
had enfranchised it and secured it in the quiet possession of
its estates. The reign of Peisistratus and of his sons had
afforded a long period of domestic peace, and had concen-
trated in its hands the possession of landed property, and had
favored its division into parcels, At the end of the sixth
century, Attica probably contained a larger number of small
rural estates than any other country in Greece. Cleisthenes'
reforms had abolished the old naucraries and had organized
the demes, and by so doing had spread the spirit of liberty
throughout the rural centres. All these small farmers had
become accustomed to deliberate, to reach decisions, to run
their own affairs ; they were, in the true sense of the word,
free men, and they had no desire whatever to cease to be
such. Democracy had, without doubt, taken quite as firm a

^Euripides, Suppliants, 1. 244: "Of the three classes of citizens, it is the
middle class which ensures the public weal, for it is they who preserve the
order established by the state." These words the poet attributes to Theseus,
the legendary founder of the Athenian State.

INTRODUCTION 5

hold on them as on the people of the city or of the Piraeus,
but they had a different conception of it.^

Quite naturally, they were much more attached to the old
customs, to their ancient rites of worship, to tradition in all
its forms. They were slow to adopt new ideas, and when they
enconntered them unexpectedly, they thought them scandalous
or ridiculous. The hereditary nobility, which was either hated
or eyed with suspicion by the democrats of the city, continued,
on the contrary, to enjoy the inborn respect of these peasants.
For the representatives of the old families, scattered through
the denies, were the guardians and hereditary priests of many
of those local cults to which the country folk remained so
much attached. Besides, the city politicians had little influ-
ence over them. They were kept busy with their work, and
had neither time nor inclination to lend an ear to the
denunciations that gained credence among the common people
of the city, and they held themselves aloof from fruitless
agitation.-

Euripides, in his Orestes, performed in 408, took pleasure in
drawing a picture, probably idealized, but surely true in its
essential features, of the peasant, as he appeared to his eyes.
The countryman, whom he depicts attending a popular
assembly, is engaged in defending precisely the cause of
hereditary principles against the attacks of a demagogue :
" Then another citizen arose ; his exterior was rough, but he
was a true man. He spent his time neither in the city nor
in the rounded market-place ; he worked in the fields. He was
one of those who assure the welfare of a state. Besides, his
mind was open to discussion, when he chose to discuss ; an
honest man, who led an irreproachable life." ^ This peasant,

^ Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 821, seems to me to confound the
rural democracy quite too much with the oligarchy. The fact that they
joined forces under certain circumstances, does not warrant the conclusion
that they were, as a rule, animated by the same feelings.

-Aristophanes, Peace, 1. 190. Trj'gaeus informs us of his name and character
in two lines : " Trygaeus of Athmone, a clever vine-drcsser, no sycophant, nor
fond of meddling in other people's affairs. "

^ Euripides, Orestes, 1. 917.

6 INTRODUCTION

the poet tells us, spent his time, neither in the city nor in the
agora, which here means the assembly. Here we have, if we
properly interpret this precious testimony, the explanation of
a fact which is of the greatest importance to our subject.
[The rural democracy, though numerous, had but little influence
in the assembly and in the courts, because the majority did
not take part in them. Indeed, this was the evil from which
Athens suffered most, and which she was never able to remedy
by the organization of a representative government, or by the
creation of a referendum for certain questions of supreme
importance. These dwellers in the villages did not, as a rule,
care to abandon their work, to make a long journey and to
incur expense, in order to go to the city and make use of
their rights of citizenship. Thus it happened that the Athe-
nians in the city and those of the Piraeus found that they
made up the majority in the Pnyx as well as in the courts,
except perhaps in some special cases.^

Of course it was different when there was a question of
taking part in the Lenaean or the great Dionysiac festivals.
These were considered the most beautiful, the most joyful and
the noisiest that were celebrated at Athens.^ From all the
suburbs of the city, and even from distant parts of Attica,
people must have come in throngs.^ These rustic spectators
brought with them their habits of mind, their tastes, their
ideas, and as, either by themselves or together with that part
of the city's population that shared their views, they were

1 See on this subject G. Gilbert, Beitrage, p. 98 et seq., and J. Beloch, Die
attische Politih seit Perikles, p. 7 et seq., Leipzig, 1884; cf. Xenophon, Memor.
vii. § 6.

-Aristophanes, Clouds, 1. 311.

^ Isocrates, Areopag. 52, says, regarding these times : koL ttoWovs tCiv
ttoKltCov fjir}8' eis ras eoprds ets darv Kara^aivetv, d\\' aipeiaOai fiiveiv iirl tois
idiots dyadois /^iSXXoc rj tQv koivQv aTrdXaveiv. Of course it is quite clear that
all the Athenian country folk did not come to join in the urban celebrations
of the festivals of Dionysus ; many of them necessarily stayed at home ; but
while the orator puts down this fact as a proof that they were comfortably off
there, he admits by implication that the attractions of these festivals were felt
throughout the whole of Attica, and that a large part of the rural population
came to see them.

INTRODUCTION 7

probably in the majority, they impressed these views on the
poets and on the judges.

They adored the tragedies of Aeschylus, who told them of
the gods and heroes in noble language ; and if, by chance,
they did not always exactly grasp his meaning, the sound of
the words and the loftiness of the sentiments sufficed to move
them profoundly.^ Sophocles also delighted them ; they loved
the noble pathos of his dramas, the glowing beauty of his lyric
songs, the strength of his characters, and the god invisible, but
present, behind the human tragedy." On the other hand,
they gave a cold welcome to the writings of Euripides, in
which there was too much subtle rhetoric to suit them, and
besides a disquieting predominance of uncontrolled impulse
that upset the robust simplicity of their morals.

But comedy delighted them even more perhaps than
tragedy, because it was their true spokesman. It was the
style in which ancient Attica, in its joyous rusticity, found
amplest expression. The country, simple and contemptuous,
used it to take revenge on the city and on those whom the
city admired. To please them, the clever poets caricatured,
on the stage, the men of the day — shrewd and selfish politicians,
subtle philosophers, full of revolutionary theories, infatuated
sophists, fashionable authors, musical composers of the new
school, with all their notions, — in a word, all those who were
the pets of the city folk, but who appeared prodigiously
grotesque to these honest peasants of Athmone or of Chollidae.
The country folk knew no greater pleasure than to overwhelm
them with their shouts of revengeful derision.

II

This tacit alliance between the rural democracy and comedy
would doubtless appear much more clearly, did we still possess
a number of plays that were performed in Athens in the first
two-thirds of the fifth century. It is, in fact, quite probable

1 Aristophanes, Achamiana, 1. 10 ; Clouds, 11. 1364-1368 ; cf. Froys, 1. 1413.
'^Aristophanes, Peace, 1. 531.

8 INTRODUCTION

that the peasant, who was the original actor and the official
choreutes of comedy, must have continued to play an important
part in the plays of Chionides and Ecphantides, of Magnes
and Cratinus, of Crates and Hermippus. Unfortunately all
these plays are lost, and what little we know of them does
not lend itself to conjectures of sufficient probability. It is
therefore better to limit ourselves to Aristophanes, the only
comic poet of whom we can speak with knowledge.

It is impossible, in our day, in view of contradictory and
untrustworthy evidence, to determine whether or not he was
the son of an Athenian father and an Athenian mother. This
was the condition indispensable to bearing the title of citizen,
by right of birth. An anonymous biographer does indeed tell
us that he belonged to the deme of Cydathenaeon, and was
of the tribe Pandionis.^ This is a definite statement that
must be based on official documents, and must therefore be
regarded as authentic.^ But it does not help us decide the
question how Aristophanes acquired the rights of citizenship.
Was he, as other traditions assert, of alien birth, and were the
rights of citizenship conferred upon his father, or upon him,
by a decree of naturalization, as one of his biographers
affirms ? ^ We do not know, and the various theories of
modern scholars have not succeeded in harmonizing these
divergent views. The same may be said of the poet's
relations to Aegina, for the evidence bearing on that ques-
tion, found in the Aeharnians, has been variously inter-
preted.* However the matter may have stood, we are

7. anon. Didot, xi. lines 1 and 3 ; cf. xv.

^Kaibel, art. "Aristophanes," No. 12, p. 971, in Pauly-Wissowa.

^ Biofjr. anon. Didot, xi. lines 30-35 ; cf . xiv.

* Aeharnians, 11. 651-653. Some commentators claim that this passage
refers, not to Aristophanes, but to Callistratus, under whose name the play
was performed. This seems to me to be inadmissible. The true author was
certainly known to the majority of the audience, and it is altogether impro-
bable that Aristophanes should have given to the man, who allowed him to
use his name, the role and the importance wliich these verses attribute to
him. It is Aristophanes who speaks here, and what he says can only be
said about himself. Thus there is reason to believe that Aristophanes had
received an allotment of land at Aegina, as a colonist (kX»;poOxos), at the

INTRODUCTION 9

almost sure that, at the time when Aristophanes made his
appearance as a comic poet, he was considered an Athenian
citizen and was entered on the register of the deme Cyda-
t?ienaeon.

This deme was one of the subdivisions of Athens, but it is
well known that registry in a deme did not imply residence
there.^ Certain indications, found in Aristophanes' own plays,
preclude all doubt that, in his childhood at least, he lived
much in the country, among the peasants of Attica. His
father, Philippus, must have been one of those hard-working,
small landowners who, with the help of a few slaves, culti-
vated their farms, planted with vines and olive-trees, in the
environs of Athens. It was men of this class that the poet
liked to put upon the stage, under the guise of a Dicaeopolis,
a Strepsiades or a Trygaeus ; of them he constituted his
chorus in the Feace, and in the Lohoiirers. It is evident that,
especially in the early part of his life, he had a predilection
for them. His comedies are full of allusions to their customs,
their work and their pastimes, and these allusions are so
concise, so varied, and portray so vividly conditions as they
actually were, that they certainly seem to imply a personal
knowledge of the things portrayed. One feels that the poet
must, from childhood, have seen the peasant in his home,
sitting in the inglenook in winter, before his house in
summer, near the bubbling brooks and the well, encircled by
violets. He is well posted about the ways of the country, the
cultivation of the fields and of the gardens — about everything
that the husbandman hopes or fears from fair or foul weather.

time of the expulsion of the Aeginetans in 431. His age is not an obstacle,
because we neither know exactly how old he was in 431, nor whether law or
usage forbade the allotment of land to a minor. As for the legal quibble
of Miiller-Striibing {Aristophanes, p. 607), it seems to me to be quite without
value. Aristophanes is joking ; it is puerile to discuss his words as one
would a legal document. Aristophanes is cited as a K\r]povxos of Aegina by
Theogenes in his work irepl Aiylvris (Schol. Plato, Apolocjia, 19 c).

^ Alcibiades, who belonged to the deme Scambonidae, had his estate in the
deme Erchia (Ps. Plato, Alcih. maj. p. 123 C). The Kk-qpovxoi continued to
be regarded as members of their deme (Schoemann-Lipsius, Griech. Alter-
thumtr, ii. p. 100).

10 INTRODUCTION

He knows the names of trees, of plants and tools, of the birds
that hide in the hedges or that fly over the fields. He also
knows the season when the grapes swell and turn golden, earlier
or later, according to their variety and to changes of tempera-
ture.^ Not only does he know all these things, but we feel that
he has a liking for them and loves to speak of them ; he is
imbued with a lively appreciation of nature, which is not the
dream of a tired city man, but seems to be made up of
personal memories and impressions. How can we avoid
drawing the conclusion that the future poet must have lived
a rustic life at the age when we observe everything, and
when those keen impressions are gathered that determine the
turn our imagination is to take ?

Thus, everything tends to make us believe that this pre-
dilection for the rural democracy must have been due, in the
first instance, not to study nor to influences met with at the
beginning of his career as a poet, but to the very circumstance
of his birth. He loved it because he was one of its sons,
because he had seen it with his own eyes and felt, in his own
heart, all its virtues.

But here we must take note of the fact that this rural
democracy never constituted an organized political party in the
Athenian state, and that, as a consequence of not having a
programme of reform, it could not supply one to the poets
who voiced its views. At no time during the fifth century do
we see it appoint a leader or take a part in public affairs as a
separate and disciplined power. As a rule it held aloof. When
it did take action, it was in the nature of support, by offering
its co-operation to the factions which, in a given case, best
represented its views. But it did so only when there existed
urgent reasons to persuade it to shake off its natural in-
difference.

Aristophanes, like the other comic poets of the time, could,
at best, only have borrowed from the rural democracy some
vague suggestions, or rather some instinctive tendencies, which
he put into preciser formulae of his own accord and on his

^Acharnians, 11. 32-.36, 241-279, 872 et seq. ; Clouds, 43-50; Peace, 535-538,
556-600, 1000-1006, 1128-1170; Birds, 227-304, 576 et seq.

INTRODUCTION 11

own responsibility. In order properly to appreciate this per-
sonal element in his work, we must make a study of his city
education and of his relations to the political parties which at
that time played a role in public life.

Ill

It was from about 431 to 427, that is to say in the first
years of the Peloponnesian war, that he got the special training
without which no comic poet of that time could get on.

It was in 427 that he made his first appearance as an
author — still a very young man — and his first play appears to
have won at least the approbation and encouragement of some
good judges.^ Moreover, it would not even have been admitted
to the competition, had it been the work of a wholly inexperi-
enced beginner. Even at this time, then, Aristophanes knew
much about his calling; and this proves beyond doubt that,
for some time previous, he must have moved in circles in which
a man could gain this knowledge.

What circles were these ? They were certainly not to be
found in the rustic surroundings of which we have been
speaking, and among which his childhood was doubtless spent.
Comedy had at this time become a very complex work of art,
which had its traditional forms and regular devices. Even its
flights of imagination were bounded by certain conventions.
Besides the versified text, it contained songs, dances, changing
scenes, a complete equipment of masks and of stage-settings.
However great his genius, Aristophanes could not have become
thoroughly acquainted with these observances of his art with-
out associating with people who had the necessary experience,
and without apprenticing himself to them.

Now, it is not doubtful that there existed, at this time,
regular specialists in comedy : on the one hand, those who
were at once poets and actors ; on the other, those who were
merely actors. Still others were singers, dancers, costumers,
impressarios and organizers of shows. In a word, there was a

1 CloMs, 1. 528.

12 INTRODUCTION

whole company of low comedians and Thespians, who mutually
supported one another with their varied talents, and through
whose unceasing collaboration comedy had, notwithstanding its
medley of paradoxes, gradually become the truly harmonious
work of art that we still admire in the extant texts. In a
town like Athens, these people, who had the same tastes and
followed the same profession, must of course have met and
known one another, either as friends and collaborators, as
teachers and pupils, or as rivals and enemies. Our very
scant knowledge of these friendships and enmities is
gleaned from a few allusions of Aristophanes, and from the
notes of ancient commentators who explained them, often
without themselves fully understanding what they meant, and
who tried to guess what they did not know. From lack of
letters, memoirs and detailed bibliographies, these under-
currents of the literary life of Athens are, as a general rule,
beyond our ken. That is no reason why we should underrate
the importance which they had in Aristophanes' mental and
moral make-up.

This world of comedians was by no means shunned by the
best Athenian society — the most open-hearted, most variously
constituted and most liberal society that has ever existed.

There is precious evidence on this subject in Xenophon and
in Plato. Xenophon's Symposium is supposed to have taken
place in 421, in the house of the wealthy Callias, son of
Hipponicus, that is to say in the house of a member of one of
the great and rich Athenian families. In it we meet all
sorts of people, rich and poor, philosophers and ignoramuses.
Seated at the same table, they converse familiarly ; a pro-
fessional buffoon comes without being invited, but is generously
admitted and joins in their conversation. Even a Syracusan
mime, called in to give a lewd performance, begins chatting
with the banqueters, gives his views on the subject under
discussion, and finally is so bold as to make very unfitting
pleasantries at Socrates' expense, but is neither thrown out nor
even called to order. Here we have equality and liberty
carried to a point which it is hard for us to understand.

The Memorabilia and the Oeconomicus show us the same

INTRODUCTION 13

customs. In them Socrates talks to whomsoever he chooses,
questions, discusses, makes himself heard in all places. His
manner of life, as it is there pictured to us, would have been
impossible in any other surroundings.

Plato presents the same picture. The Athens that he shows
us is a sort of talking place, where everybody is supposed
to know everybody else, and where each person has a perfect
right to make acquaintance with those he meets. His Sym-
posium, in particular, the portrayal of a more or less imaginary
reunion held at the house of Agathon in 416, is of quite
special interest, because it lets us see Aristophanes himself in
an Athenian social gathering. Though, it is true, we do not
know the standing of all the guests, we do here discover the
same intermixture of classes and professions — and Aristophanes
is by no means represented as belonging to an inferior rank.

Thus, we can be sure that he was not at all isolated nor
limited to a particular circle, either at the beginning of his
career or in later life. From youth on, he certainly lived in
Athens, at the centre of intellectual life, enjoying perfect
freedom of speech and unhampered exchange of views. This
is not the place to enlarge on the influence that city life, with
its effervescence and its constant changes, had on his art. No
reader of Aristophanes can help feeling, in every page of his
plays, what he owed to the streets, the agora, the harbor, to
chance encounter and to social gatherings. All that there is of
actual life in his comedies hails from there, and even his fancy,
in large measure, draws its inspiration thence. But at present
we are intent only upon his connection with political parties,
and it is from this point of view only that we wish to consider
his contact with society in the city.

The Athenians, critical and acute by nature, were bound
to discover the hidden meaning of things, to invent novel
explanations, to impute secret motives to men who were active
in politics. A man acquired a reputation for cleverness and far-
sightedness only by outdoing his fellows in matters of this sort.
And it was not the avowed enemies of the constitution nor
the open adversaries of the popular leaders who took the
greatest delight in these insinuations. The oligarchical party,

c

14 INTRODUCTION

properly speaking, counted among its members theorists and
statesmen, who met doctrine with doctrine and policy with
policy. But these personal slanders and invidious explanations
did not come from them in particular ; they originated in
daily gossip at the clubs, without difference of party. It was
from this source that a number of accusations sprang that
were lodged against Pericles and his friends, and that circulated
and gained strength especially from 443 on, when, after the
exile of Thucydides, son of Melesias, Pericles was no longer
confronted by an organized opposition. At that time people
began to say that the statesman obeyed the caprices of Aspasia,
even that the fair woman from Miletus wrote his speeches for
him. One spoke of Phidias' misappropriation of funds, com-
mitted with his knowledge ; another held him responsible for
the bold theories of Anaxagoras ; and when he made war on
Sparta, the report was spread that he had done so in order to
conceal his fallen fortunes and to escape certain condemnation.-^
True or false, or even true and false at once, we see that
this talk passed from mouth to mouth — that it was generally
believed, and that, in the end, it had grave consequences.

Comedy in general, and that of Aristophanes in particular,
battened on it by preference, but this fact does not warrant
our considering comedy as the recognized mouthpiece of an
anti-constitutional opposition. Living on satire, it merely
repeated, on the stage, what was constantly being said
throughout the city. True, by thus repeating this gossip,
comedy lent it much added force and authority, so that, in
some instances, it imposed it on history. It is the privilege
of true works of art to perpetuate whatever they have once
held up to our gaze ; but the elements which they appropriate
and immortalize were originally very far from having the
importance imputed to them, later on, on account of these works
of art.

^Plutarch, Pericles, c. xiii. Plutarch traced these slanders to the comic
poets, but he fully understood that they, in turn, had gathered them from
daily gossip : de^d/xtvoi d^ rov \6yov ol kw/j.ikoI troWrjv acriXyeiai' airov Kareun^daaav.

INTRODUCTION 15

IV

We must not, however, ignore the fact that, when Aristo-
phanes wrote his first comedies, there existed at Athens an
oligarchical faction, which detested democracy; that this faction
counted among its adherents men who were distinguished in
society ; that our poet may have known them, have heard
them speak and have adopted at least some of their views,
and that he may have had friends and patrons among them.
There is, therefore, good reason for examining his relations
with them as closely as we can at this late date.^

The Athenian aristocracy constituted, for a considerable
time after the Persian wars, an organized party, of which
Cimon, the son of Miltiades, was the principal leader. This
party accepted the democracy of Solon and of Cleisthenes,
but it brought its own traditions into the management of
public affairs, and endeavored to make a conservative policy
prevail.

We know how it was defeated by the democratic reforms of
Ephialtes and of Pericles, by the curtailing of the powers of
the Areopagus and by the exile of Cimon.^ Notwithstanding
all this, it seems to have regained strength in the years
following the death of Cimon — between 449 and 443. This
was the time of those memorable debates on the rostrum
between Pericles, the undisputed leader of the popular party,
and Thucydides, the son of Melesias, the chief orator of the
opposition, of which Plutarch has preserved us a record.
'<These contests ended, in the year 443-442, in the triumph
of Pericles, who secured a sentence of ostracism against his
adversary.^

^Augusts Couat, Ariatophane et Vancienne Com6die attique, has sought to
prove that the comic poets at Athens were really the clients, if not indeed
the parasites, of the aristocracy, who, according to him, held them in a
position of complete dependence. It is on this point chiefly that I disagree
with him.

-Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, cc. xxiii.-xxvi.

' Ed. Meyer, Oeschichte des Alterthums, iv. pp. 407-409.

16 INTRODUCTION

/The aristocratic party was for a long time disorganized by
this occurrence.^ Neither during the last years of Pericles'
government, nor even after his death, when the ship of state
was guided by men who were greatly his inferiors, did it again
succeed in figuring in public debate. Nicias, who sometimes
voiced its ideas on the rostrum, was, properly speaking, neither
a man of affairs nor a leader. In point of fact, the latent
power of the party was then concentrated in a few men, who
held aloof and bided their time. The orator Antiphon may
be mentioned as the best-known among them.

From time to time there issued from this circle some
trenchant pamphlet, in which the party's views were expressed
with the somewhat dry rigor which at that time was charac-
teristic of Attic prose. We possess a remarkable example in
The Polity of the Athenians, erroneously attributed to Xeno-
phon. The author is a haughty and uncompromising aristocrat,
who sets out to destroy by his pitiless logic what he considers
to be the illusions of the moderate wing of his party. He
most emphatically opposes those who assumed that the
Athenian democracy could be reformed. With imperturbable
calmness, he demonstrates that it merely follows its natural
laws, that it is what it ought to be — what force of cir-
cumstances demands it should be — and that it cannot be
other than it is. This is the hardest, the most inflexible,
the most insolent piece of reasoning that has ever been put
on paper.^

It is very hard to believe that Aristophanes should have
been able to gain and to enjoy the intimacy of such people.
His playful temper, his exuberant fancy, his droll sallies, could
not have suited these theorists, nor was their doctrinaire
gravity of a kind to delight this young poet, so full of
sparkling and capricious spirit. Furthermore, when one takes
the trouble to compare the few ideas, or outlines of ideas,
which constitute the entire political doctrine of his plays, with
such oligarchical theories as we can in part reconstruct, one

1 Plutarch, Pericles, c. xiv,

*We shall revert to this work in greater detail, in connection with the
Knights, in chapter ii.

INTRODUCTION 17

soon perceives that these ideas and theories differ considerably
from one another. This comparison must be made for each
play separately, and must be reinforced by quotations ; but
the general result may be put down here. Here and there an u^e*'i*-
indirect influence, exerted by some of these theories on the - om9*
thought of our poet, is undoubtedly to be found ; but invari- •' ^ -i^
ably these theories, scattered through his plays, appear very
noticeably modified, not only in form — which goes without
saying — but even in spirit.

In fact, if, as is likely, Aristophanes held close relations
with a number of members of the Athenian aristocracy, it was
certainly not with these theorists, and we must by no means
imagine him as receiving commands from the leaders of their
party, or as their chosen official spokesman. Comedy had
nothing to do with plots ; and we can unhesitatingly declare
that it never joined forces with the revolutionary associations
(eraipiai).

"We must not forget, however, that this aristocracy, together
with its foremost spirits, or rather under their lead, included
a large number of people of very different turn of mind ;
and foremost among these, many cheerful young men, fond of
pleasure and noisy gatherings, and ready to give a warm
welcome to those who afforded them entertainment. It was
just this youthful company that Aristophanes, himself young,
overflowing with gaiety and, no doubt, free in his morals and
speech, must chiefly have sought ; they are the people he has
put on the stage in his Knights. Whatever views on politics
are expressed in his comedies, are due much more to their
conversation than to the theories above referred to. And if
these theories are nevertheless to some extent reflected in his
plays, it is because these young men, in the course of their
heated, ill-regulated and indiscreet talk, cannot have avoided
occasionally repeating to one another what they had heard
from the serious persons who were their masters and teachers.
They repeated these views with the vivaciousness, the para-
doxical exaggeration and the extravagant fancies of youth.
They derived from them a thousand taunts against the leaders
of the people, against the democratic politicians ; and this bit

18 INTRODUCTION

of theory gave support to their hostile gossip and to their
satirical personal attacks. It is only fair to assume that they
did not sound the depths of these theories, but rather that
they delighted in all invidious reports, scandalous stories, and
in the whole range of occurrences, true or false, that made
their adversaries ridiculous or deserving of hatred. ; This was
the hearth on which the burning flame of comedy found its
fuel. It was from this fire, incessantly fanned by Attic wit,
that those sparks shot forth plentifully which we still see
scintillating in the comedies of Aristophanes.

At the same time, the deduction is not warranted that
Aristophanes was the docile mouthpiece of this youthful
band. His untrammelled nature rebelled against subserviency,
perhaps even more on account of the spontaneity of his
imagination and spirit than because of his independence of
character. Moreover, the suggestions he received in aristo-
cratic circles were assimilated in his mind with the traditions
and instincts of the rural democracy, which was discussed above.
We may be sure that from such a process no stable, well-
considered and definitive combination can have resulted, but
rather an unstable medley, very original and very personal,
subject not only to the influence of passing events and of
changing moods, but also to that peculiar power of dramatic
creations, which occasionally gain the mastery over their own
creators and insensibly lead on the poet, just when he seems
to be very wisely guiding them.

Did Aristophanes have any patrons at all, in the real sense
of the word, among his friends in the best Athenian society ?
We may as well admit that we know nothing about it, and
that, on this point, there is a regrettable blank in our informa-
tion. In a general way it would seem not at all improbable
that the comic poets at Athens should, at the beginning of
their career, have tried to secure patronage among the persons
who were capable of giving them aid. They may have needed
it either to secure a recommendation to the archon who supplied
the comic chorus, or in order to guarantee themselves against
the disagreeable consequences which too bold a satire was
always in danger of bringing upon them. In his young days

INTRODUCTION 19

Cratinus appears to have sought the patronage of Cimon.^
Telecleides, at a later time, represented himself as the friend
of Nicias.- As far as Aristophanes is concerned, there is
nothing to indicate that he was the client of any known
person, but he may very well have had a patron without
our knowing it. The question must be raised, although there
is no means to-day of solving it.^

As opposed to the aristocratic faction, which was vaguely
defined and liable to change in its organization, the democracy
did not properly constitute a " political party." It was the
state itself, the entire body of citizens ; but, as we have already
said, there existed in this democracy groups with different
tendencies and of different character, which, without centraliza-
tion and without organization, in turn exerted a more or less
powerful influence on the public actions of the city.

This state of affairs was favorable to ambitious men who
knew how to gain the goodwill of the masses. A regular,
organized party presupposes a certain amount of discipline.
Now, all discipline holds in check, at least in a measure, the
free play of eager individuals who would encroach upon it.
But in dealing with a disintegrated and so to speak inorganic
throng, anybody, if he possessed clear intelligence, a degree of

'Cratinus, The Archilochians, fragment 1, Kock.

^Telecleides, fragment 41, Kock.

^G. Gilbert, Beitrdge, p. 74, likewise considers comedy at the time of the
Peloponnesian war as the " organ of a party," the party of the great and rich
families who kept it under obligations by the fact that they furnished the
choruses. It already appears, after what has been said, and it will appear
more clearly later on, wherein my point of view differs from his, which is not
entirely incorrect, but seems to me to lack the finer distinctions. The learned
historian forgets that the leaders of the democratic party, Pericles, for
example, and certainly many others as well, had charge of equipping choruses,
and yet we cannot put our finger on a line in the comedies that would appear
to be favorable to them. Moreover, the choice of the plays rested with the
archon, and not with the choregi.

20 INTRODUCTION

boldness, some power or skill in speech, and few scruples into
the bargain, could become a great man in a day. It was
merely a question of grasping an opportunity, of striking an
unexpected blow, of suddenly securing attention and favor.
And Athens, at the time of the Peloponnesian war, became a
theatre of action exceptionally suited to politicians.

It was among them that was found the man upon whom
Aristophanes, during the first part of his career as a dramatist,
made the most incessant war — Cleon, the son of Cleaenetus.
He is the best-known of the demagogues of this time. His
career furnishes the means by which one may most readily
explain and sum up what Aristophanes thought of politicians
during the early years of his career.^

By birth Cleon belonged to that city democracy whose
character we have described above. His father appears to
have been successful in business ; we are told that he was a
tanner, which no doubt means that he had one or more
currier's shops, in which slaves worked for his profit. His
house, therefore, must necessarily have had commercial rela-
tions with some of the principal hide-markets from which the
Attic industry secured its supplies — for example, with Gyrene
and southern Italy.^ Manufacturers such as he, consequently,
must have had offices and warehouses at the Piraeus, and have
lived in touch with the people of the harbor. These are the
surroundings in which the young Cleon grew up. Moreover,
there is no doubt that he received the education common among
young Athenians belonging to families possessed of comfortable
means ; but his nature seems to have been hard, hasty and
imperious, and he was a stranger to that light grace which was
characteristic of Attic culture.

According to the testimony of Theopompus, unreliably
cited by a scholiast, he desired to serve among the Athenian
knights, but met with an unfriendly reception and was perhaps

^In Busolt, Griech. Gesch., iii. 2nd part, p. 988, note 3, there is a concise
and sufficiently complete resum^ of the principal modern articles on Cleon and
of the different opinions that have been held about him. However some traits
of his character do not seem to me to be distinctly stated.

- Ilermippus, fragment 63, 11. 4 and 6, Kock.

INTRODUCTION 21

rejected ; at any rate was humiliated by the snubbing of some
aristocrat, and from that moment threw his lot in with the
popular party, in order to have his revenge.^ Nothing is more
uncertain than this story, in which the malicious interpretation
of the opposition is too evident.

We do know that he entered public life toward the end of
Pericles' life. At that time he appeared among those who daily
harassed and denounced the aged statesman — a bitter and
untiring opposition that drew together men of diverse views.
As for Cleon, a democrat by birth, he espoused the suspicions,
the hatreds and the jealousies of the advanced democracy.
Plutarch tells us that, helped by the discontent which at that
time was troubling the masses, " he advanced step by step to
the possession of power." ^ From 431, the time of the first
invasion of Attica by the Peloponnesians under the Spartan
king Archidamus, he was one of those who violently attacked
Pericles' temporizing policy, and in 430 the poet Hermippus
could say that the latter " had been finely bitten by the mad
Cleon." ^ In the same year, 430, when the people, in a fit of
anger, gave themselves the satisfaction of putting their leader
on trial and of sentencing him, Cleon was perhaps one of the
accusers.* In fact, it was in bringing charges against persons
in power that ambitious young men evidenced their zeal for
the public good and recommended themselves to the favor of
the people.

1 Schol. Knights, 225, 226.

* Plutarch, Pericles, c. xxxiii. , probably based on Ephorus. Perhaps he had
already been one of those who accused Anaxagoras, the chief accuser being
Thucydides, son of Melesias (Sotion, in Diogenes Laertius, ii. 3, 12). The
evidence is not very trustworthy, but the arguments against it are weak.
Ed. Meyer, Geschichte des Alterthums, iv. §531, note.

^ Hermippus, fragment 46, Kock. Cf. Plutarch, loc. cit.

^Plutarch, Pericles, c. xxxv. according to the testimony of Idomeneus
(Ed. Meyer, Geschichte des Alterthums, iv. § 556), regards this testimony as
devoid of authority ; Busolt, Griechische Geschichte, iii. 2nd part, p. 953,
note 5, leans to the same opinion. Idomeneus is certainly a doubtful authority;
at the same time, his assertion is not in itself improbable. The fact that Theo-
phrastus and Heracleides Pontius name other accusers (see Busolt, loc. cit.),
does not imply a contradiction.

n INTRODUCTION

Pericles' sentence, shortly followed by his death in 429,
opened the door to second-rate politicians. Cleon was among
those who made a headlong rush for power.-^

He seems to have been endowed with certain gifts of
oratory, and even of statesmanship, which came to the aid of
his shortcomings, and not only partly hid the latter from view
but occasionally even rendered them agreeable to the people —
imperturbable self-assurance, a powerful voice that stirred the
masses, effrontery of a kind that scandalized proper folks but
did not displease the multitude. His very clamors, his
violent gestures, the insults he heaped upon his opponents, —
all these traits combined made him different from everybody
else. And besides he had a clear head which was clever at
simplifying things, a trenchant logic which readily made its
way by incontrovertible deductions, and which imposed its
conclusions through its systematic severity. Thucydides tells
us that he was of a very violent disposition, and that he knew
better than anyone else how to persuade the masses.^ Even
his persuasiveness had soriiething violent about it. It sprang
from the brutal impulsiveness of his method of arguing, which
clung to a few positive ideas and brushed aside a multitude
of considerations at which deliberate and reflecting minds
halted. He had the actual advantage over his moderate and
diplomatic adversaries that falls to the lot of intransigent
dogmatists, when they address a public which has no decided
views, and is, besides, enamored of ideas that appear to be
clear. He understood how to pick out from among the con-
fused views of the masses certain principles which he formu-

^ The scholiast of Lucian, Timon, 30, says of him : 6 5^ kX^uv drifiaycoybs ^v
'Adrjvaluv, irpocTTat avTuiv iirTo, ^tt). As Cleon died in 422, the period of seven
years must have begun in 429. The originator of this surmise must have
taken the death of Pericles as his starting-point, and not, as Busolt thinks
(Griechische Geschichte, 2nd part, p. 998, note 1), the year 428-427, in which
Cleon is supposed to have entered the Senate. After a lapse of time Cleon
must have appeared as the immediate successor of Pericles, and he may in fact
have succeeded him. One should not attach too much importance to the
"succession of the three merchants," which has been so meekl}^ accepted on
the testimony of Aristophanes (Knights, 129).

2 Thucydides, ii. 36.

INTRODUCTION 23

la ted ill imperious terms; and by thus expressing them he gave
substance to the prevailing passions, whose servant he made
himself in order to rule the state.^

In domestic affairs, his policy tended to destroy what little
influence the upper classes still retained. Aristotle passes a
very expressive judgment on him. He says : " It is he who
seems to have done most to corrupt the people by means of
their own instincts." - This opinion was, no doubt, that of
Cleon's adversaries ; but we can hardly doubt that, upon the
whole, it is a fairly just one. As a matter of fact, the history
of this period shows that during this time democracy, as an
institution, changed more and more, through the development
of the dangerous instincts which it harbored in itself. And
as Cleon was at this time the statesman to whom the public
lent a more willing ear than to all others, it is certain that he
contributed largely to these changes. Moreover, Thucydides
says the same thing when he characterizes the politicians who
succeeded Pericles : he calls attention to the fact that the
latter truly led the people instead of allowing himself to be
led by them. " On the contrary," he adds, " as those who
came after him had no marked superiority to distinguish them,
and yet were anxious to surpass one another, they forced
themselves to please the masses and allowed them to manage
public affairs." ^ True, this is not said especially of Cleon, but
there is no room for doubt that Cleon is the first person aimed
at by this trenchant observation. To flatter the democracy
by becoming the pander to its instincts, which besides were
probably also his own — such was the sum and substance of his
policy.* We may add to this the incessant accusations in the

^ These characteristics of a hard and brutal logician seem to me to come out
very vividly in the speeches that Thucydides imputes to him in the affair of
the Mj'tileneans. I shall refer to them again.

'^Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, c. xxviii.

» Thucydides, ii. 65. 10.

^ This is what is apparent from the few facts that are definitely known to
us. The increase of the judges' salaries, whatever may have been said about
it, was not inspired by anj' other motive (Aristophanes, Knights, 1. 255 ;
Schol. Wasps, 1. 88). Remember also the part Cleon played in the negotia-
tions of the j'ear 425 (Thucydides, iv. 22).

24 INTRODUCTION

courts, by means of which he gained a reputation for vigilance
and devotion to the public weal, while at the same time he
fostered the suspicions to which the people were only too
much inclined.^

In foreign affairs, he sought incessantly to arouse the
imprudent ambition of Athens. Supremacy at sea, with
which Pericles would have had it content, did not suffice for
him. Falling in with the secret wishes of the people, and
particularly of the inhabitants of Piraeus, he held up before
their eyes the glittering vision or the delusive dream of a
great empire ; and to the discussion of these questions, in
which prudence, moderation and a clear recognition of what
was possible, would have been necessary, he brought his usual
absolutism. He admitted neither compromise nor failure.
Thucydides formally declares that, to the end, he remained
the chief obstacle to the declaration of peace by the Athenians.^
" My aim," says the Paphlagonion to Demos in the Knights,
"is to make you rule over all the Greeks." ^ Even
though this utterance be not historic, it at least sums up
the policy that Cleon must have professed. The seafarers and
all those who made their livelihood at Athens from commerce
with foreign parts had, at bottom, the desire and the need of
constant expansion, which seems, as though by a law of nature,
to be inherent in great maritime powers. Cleon flattered this
tendency, just as he was wont to flatter all popular instincts.
He declared that this dream could surely be realized, if only
they would agree never to yield, and would not allow vain
scruples or the plea of humanity to induce them to relax that
" imperial " authority, which had been created by the very
course of events and by the force of circumstance. He

^Aristophanes, Knights, 1. 256. It seems to me to be of secondary impor-
tance whether Cleon acted in good or in bad faith, from self-interest or
disinterestedly. History sits in judgment not upon his motives but upon
his acts. Those who have sought to vindicate him should have tried
to show one occasion at least on which he exerted a beneficial influence on the
people. If, on the contrary, he always impelled them to the side to which
they secretly inclined, the judgment of Aristotle and that of Thucydides
are justified.

* Thucydides, v. 16. ^Aristophanes, Knights, 1. 797.

INTRODUCTION 25

maintained the theory of an ever-growing domination, esta-
blished and upheld with inflexible energy.

VI

Aristophanes could not but be the avowed enemy of such a
man and of those who were like him. He was their enemy
by nature, independently of all personal grievances and almost
without reflection. They disagreed, in the first place, about
essential matters in politics. For reasons which we have ,
already set forth, Aristophanes belonged, heart and soul, to a )
moderate democracy, which was attached to the soil and to its )
traditions, was opposed to violence and foolhardiness, had little ;
sympathy with idle talkers, and was very hostile to the inces-
sant lawsuits that upset the city and were advantageous only |
to the politicians. The ambition for conquest that animated
the people of Piraeus was entirely foreign to him. In common
with all the country folk, war meant to him defensive war
only, limited to the protection of one's territory.^ To their "^
minds, distant expeditions, in which Athens wasted her blood
and her money, appeared as a kind of criminal folly. In a
word, every part of Cleon's policy was hateful to them. This
was their chief and most serious difference of opinion, which
the lively imagination of Aristophanes, the sensitiveness of his
poetic nature and his bitter satire constantly provoked and
fanned into flame.

Underlying this difference of view there was still another
and even deeper element of discord, a conflict less political in
its nature than moral and national. The character of the
Athenians, such as race, tradition and history had made it,
was undergoing a crisis at the beginning of the Peloponnesian
war.

Thucydides, in the speech which he attributes to Pericles
and which he says the latter made in the winter of the year
431-430, defined this character, while idealizing it. Wliat

^Aristophanes, Ecclesiazusae, I. 197; cf. J. Beloch, Die aitische Politik,
pp. 13 and 14.

26 INTRODUCTION

, the statesman praises above all is the charming suavity of
Athenian manners, the absence of constraint, the freedom of
private life, untroubled by any jealous surveillance, the fair
exercise of justice, a taste for simple elegance that lent beauty
to life, a confiding hospitality, the amiable grace and ease of
intercourse, — in a word, a sort of inborn adaptability, which
enabled everyone to realize all his natural gifts, without
submitting himself to a severe and trying discipline.'- All
this seems to have been noted at first hand by a close
observer, who had lived in various parts of Greece and was
thus able to judge by comparison. And even though, in point
of fact, these qualities were mingled with faults which the
historian himself has mentioned elsewhere, there is, at any
rate, no doubt that the picture, viewed as a whole, is faithful.
This was, indeed, substantially the character of Athens about
431, and it made Athens the only city of its kind in the
Greek world. And now the policy of the demagogues tended
to change it seriously. .This policy brought with it suspicion,
hatred and a factional spirit, and rapidly spread them abroad in
the city. By means of the corruption of the judiciary it
annoyed and exasperated some people, while among others it
engendered a spirit of selfish illwill. By granting excessive
powers to the popular assembly, it transformed democracy into
despotism ; and finally, by its unbounded imperialism, it made
the people tyrannical and sometimes cruel. \
• Nobody was more of an Athenian of the pM- Jype than
i Aristophanes, albeit he was very modern in some respects, and
' nobody can have felt more keenly than he the existence of
this crisis. How could his free and expansive nature, gay and
vivacious, fond of merry-making, of a good time and of an
easy-going life, have failed to abhor this factional spirit that it
saw growing up about it ? Demagogues filled with hatred,
corrupt courts, a war protracted for the benefit of private
interests, and carried on at public expense, was this not
enough to outrage so devoted a representative of ancient
liberty and one so attached to his peace-loving and kindly
Attica ? Hence came his disposition to hostile criticism ;

( ^ Thucydides, ii. cap. xxxvii.-xli.

INTRODUCTION 27

indeed, one may say that it is entirely traceable to this
source. For, at bottom, when he attacks Euripides, Socrates,
and even the new style of music with almost as much virulence
as he attacks Cleon or Lamachus, the reason for his wrath is
doubtless always the same. It is the Athenian temperament,
such as he imagines it, as he feels it in his own person, as
he sees it in tradition, that he champions, rightly or wrongly,
against innovators. More than all others, he loved its lively
spontaneity, its inherited straightforwardness, its gracious
simplicity and the inborn kindliness that lay hidden behind
its mocking ways.

One must keep this constantly in mind in order to get a
proper understanding of his relations with political parties. It
is quite certain that in the course of the fight in which he
engaged, he underwent transient inliuences, that he sought
useful alliances, even that he may have lent himself to cer-
tain political schemes. All these questions need be studied
and discussed at close range and in connection with each of
his plays. But, from the very outset, it is essential to appre-
hend clearly that, properly speaking, Aristophanes belonged to
no party. Child of the country and of Athenian tradition — it
is in the name of his native land that he speaks, and it is the
soul of Athens that he defends against those whom he regards
as its corruptors. _

ARISTOPHANES AND THE POLITICAL
PARTIES AT ATHENS

CHAPTER I

THE BEGINNING OF ARISTOPHANES' CAREER

THE BANQUETERS. THE BABYLONIANS.
THE ACHARNIANS

In the beginning Aristophanes wrote comedy of a satirical
order. Later on he, as well as other comic poets, wrote
plays, in which either mythological parody or fancy, pure and
simple, predominated. If I am not mistaken, this was a con-
cession that he made to circumstances. His vocation led him,
from the very beginning, to pass censure on morals and on
politics ; and he returned to this practice as often as he could.
Nothing is more likely than that a certain desire for popular
success prompted this choice of subject. This style of comedy
had a much greater chance of arousing the enthusiasm of the
public, which was already somewhat tired of simple buffoonery.
Through it an author could quickly gain a reputation for
courage and rise to the level of a moralist, nay, almost of a
statesman. It was by this means that Cratinus had become
hors de conconrs, although imitators and rivals swarmed about
him. But ambition alone did not suffice in order to play this
part. Evidently it demanded a special aptitude which could
not have been developed in a mind that was superficial and
indifferent to social questions. AVe may, therefore, as well

D

30 THE BEGINNING OF

recognize that the youthful Aristophanes possessed a " certain
philosophy," and, underlying his playful fancy, more seriousness
than would appear at first sight.^

The first play he gave to the public was performed in the
beginning of the year 427.^ It was called The Banqueters
(ol A(«TaXJ79). In order to have it accepted by the archon, our
poet, who was still unknown, had placed it in the hands of a
certain Callistratus, who presented it to the magistrate as his
own, and, consequently, took upon himself the responsibility of
instructing the actors.^

This Callistratus must have been a poet and comic actor
himself. The confidence with which he seems to have inspired
not only various archons, but also his friend Aristophanes,
leaves no room for doubt that, at all events, he possessed, to
an unusual degree, aptitude and experience in the usages of
the theatre. The archon knew in advance that a play which
such a man took up was pretty sure to amuse the public ; and
that was all that was necessary. As for Aristophanes, we
must assume that he had largely profited by Callistratus'
counsels in the writing of his play, and that he was still in
great need of assistance from him in its actual preparation for
performance. This is indeed about what he himself says at a
later time in metaphorical language, in the parabasis of his
Knights}

His comedy was awarded the second prize ^ — in itself a
creditable success, and even more than that for a beginner.
Its leading idea and a few fragments are all that is known to
us of this play.

^ This is what Plato said of Isocrates : (ptjcrei. yap ^veari ns (fiCKocTocpla rrj toO
dvdpbs diavoLq. (Phaedrus, p. 279 b). This saying, with its careful shades of
meaning and its reservations, seems to me to fit Aristophanes well. Neither
the comic poet nor the orator was really a philosopher, but there was in each
of them "a certain philosophy," consisting chieily of perceptions, each in
their way incomplete.

" Clouds, 11. 528-532 ; Sehol. Clouds, 1. 529 ; Anonymous author. De Comoedia
{Com. graec. fragm. , Kaibel, i. p. 8).

' Anon. De Com. , loc. cit.

* Knights, 11. 512-515 and 541-544. Cf. Wasps, 1018-1020.

^ Schol. Clotids, 1. 529, Sevrepos iKpiSr).

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 31

Taken as a whole, it was a satire on the new customs. The
poet placed upon the stage an Athenian of the old days, a man
fond of tradition, very much attached to the past — and to-
gether with him, two young men, his sons. The one submitted
willingly to paternal discipline ; the other was full of new
ideas, a votary and follower of the sophists, a fine talker, a
sycophant and a debauchee. The moral interest of the play
arose from the contrast between the two brothers. This is
what Aristophanes himself points out, when, in the parabasis
of the Clouds, he makes allusion to this first attempt of his
Muse, and reminds the audience of the day " when his two
characters, the good young man and the debauchee were well
received " by them.^ The details of the plot are entirely
unknown to us. From the title of the play itself, and from
rather obscure evidence, the conclusion seems warranted that
the chorus was made up of a religious brotherhood, who met
to offer a sacrifice to Heracles and then to feast at a banquet
in his honor. -^ What part did they take in the dialogue ?
There is nothing to indicate it. The most important fragments
bring before us either the father and his sons or the two
brothers. In one passage the youthful innovator uses words
that are in fashion, in which his father immediately recognizes
the mark of certain popular rhetoricians and demagogues, or
that of Alcibiades, the leader of the gilded youth (fragm.
198, Kaibel). Elsewhere, the same "bad lot" shows that he
has neglected the study of Homer and that he knows nothing
of the national poets, such as Alcaeus and Anacreon, but that
he is past master of sharp practice (fragm. 222 and 223).
He knows how to play the lyre and is proud of it, but it is
clear that the music he cares for is of the popular kind (fragm.
221). What did the old Athenian gentleman do to reform
this scamp ? He seems to have intended to send him out to
the country to dig (fragm. 221). We do not know whether he

1 Clouds, 1. 528.

'^ Comic, graec. fragm., Kock, i. p. 438. Suidas : AatraXerj" 5aiTviJ.6vfs khI
dLaaQrai Kal avfXTrdTai /cat olov ffvv8aiTa\eh' oiirws ^Apiarocpdvris. Orion, 49. 10:
AairaXetj, 8p5.fia'ApiaTO<pdpovi' eirtLor} ev tep^ ' HpaxX^ovs heiirvovvris Ka.1 avaVTivTH
Xopol eyevoyro.

32 THE BEGINNING OF

succeeded. Certain fragments give us a glimpse of a law-suit,
real or fictitious (fragm. 210,216,217,218,219). In another
passage the father probably called upon the ancient kings of
Athens, Erechtheus and Aegeus, as witnesses (fragm. 211).
This enumeration must be incomplete, for he could not have
failed to summon to his aid also the popular king Theseus,
who was inseparable from the other two. From all this we
gather nothing definite about composition and general plan.

We do, however, see quite plainly that the play was much
more than a mere collection of gibes at individuals. It was
controlled by a consistent thought, which served to bind together
its various parts. This thought was a censure, undoubtedly a
moral one, and probably, at least to some extent, a political one.

The character of the old Athenian, of whom we get rather
vague glimpses, was in itself a living profession of faith. The
very essence of his nature was attachment to the old-time
manner of living and thinking. Whatever his role in the
play may have been, and even granting that he suffered many
rebuffs, we may be sure, at any rate, that the poet allowed his
own sympathy for him to be felt, and that he sought to gain
for him that of the audience. On the other hand, there is no
indication that this person manifested any leaning toward
oligarchy. As far as we can judge, it was the intriguing and
the laziness of the youths of his day that he abhorred above
all things. Such other reproaches as he could heap upon
them, sprang from that source. As a consequence, he must
have loved the country, and he firmly believed in its value as
an educator and maker for good morals ; it was for this reason
that he wished to force his son to work as a peasant. He
must also have loved the old religious cults — the subject-
matter of the play itself seems to make this clear — and we
may picture to ourselves this good fellow, in the midst of his
companions in the worship of Heracles, making common cause
with them of his devoutness and of his protests against the
spirit of innovation. In a word, it is easy to think of him as
a somewhat less rustic Strepsiades with this or that distin-
guishing peculiarity, about which it would be over-bold to
make conjectures at this late day.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 33

The virtuous son is merely a shadow, and it seems impos-
sible, taking into account the state of the fragments, to form
any idea of his personality. It is even somewhat difficult to
conceive that he should have played an important part in the
comedy, for, at best, he could not have been other than his
father's double, and a very mediocre double at that. Aristo-
phanes, who was so intelligent in matters relating to the
theatre, must instinctively have felt what a bore reasonable
and reasoning young men are on the comic stage. When, in
speaking of his play, he summed it up in the contrast between
the two brothers, he no doubt alluded more to an isolated scene
(fragm. 199), or to the underlying scheme of the composition,
than to its dramatic form.

We cannot doubt, on the other hand, that the " bad
young man " was the main attraction of the play. It would
not have been amusing without him. His deep-rooted dislike
of discipline was its mainspring. Whatever the plot may
have been, it was assuredly he who kept it moving. From
sheer necessity Aristophanes had given him that exuberance
of life, that kind of bold confidence and unrestrainable activity,
which we shall meet with again in his Dicaeopolis, Cleon,
Strepsiades, Trygaeus, Pisthetairos, Lysistrata, and generally in
those of his characters who are the authors of a comic enter-
prise. Moreover, this fellow was typical of young Athens ; of
course he represented it in an exaggerated form and with the
extravagance that was indispensable in this style of composi-
tion. It seems that the poet, by hints let fall here and
there, must in some sort have reviewed the young man's life
hitherto. From the time that he grew up his father, who was
probably astounded at his talents, had apprenticed him to
learned masters, with the intention of assuring him a brilliant
future. " But," said he, " he learned none of those things that
I wanted him to learn. Instead of doing so, he learned how
to drink, to sing in topsy-turvy manner, to love nothing but
Syracusan cookery, the pleasures of the Sybarites and bumpers
of Chian wine from Laconian cups" (fr. 216). Notwithstand-
ing all this, he had, as we have already seen, become initiated
in rhetoric and in sharp practice (fr. 198, 222). Once

34 THE BEGINNING OF

equipped with these means of attaining success, he had
become a sycophant, a public denunciator, and had grown rich
on threats and cahimny (fr. 219, 225). At the same time
he had acquired, in one fell swoop, all the vices of that pro-
fession. He was a gambler, a toper, a debauchee, an impudent
fellow (fr. 202, 205, 206, 209, 213). He boasted of all this,
and treated his own father with cynical insolence (fr, 198).

Incomplete as these portrayals are, they do nevertheless
enable us to determine approximately the drift of the Aristo-
phanic satire. It was against the professional politicians that
the poet inveighed, and by this term we mean those who at
that time were beginning to transform politics into a lucrative
trade in Athens. But he directed his attacks neither against
their views nor against their way of conducting affairs, nor
even against that exploitation of the courts of justice which
they had organized for their own profit; all that was to come
in due time. For the moment, it was their moral perverseness
that he placed on the boards. He showed it in a concrete
example, in living guise, as a composite of a group of tendencies
which seemed to him to be about to corrupt the character of
(, ^0^ the Athenians. It was no business of his to seek for what

yj^.V^ ^ \ was cause or effect in this group of tendencies. Probably he
jj^^vw' ' did not even, in the secrecy of his heart, ask himself whether

^ -^ this rapid growth of unscrupulous ambition and selfish indi-

vidualism was a result, say, of the constitution of Athens itself,
or of the way in which it was carried into effect. The tem-
perament of the poet made him more susceptible to what can
be seen than to things that must be guessed at, and he was
content to embody the existing evils in his fictions. He
did so with remarkable power from the very beginning of his
career. ..

In so doing he did not act as an adherent of a party, and
he had to wait on no man's word of command. The men
whom he took to task, belonged rather to the middje, or to
the well-to-do class, than, strictly speaking, to the people.
Sons of country landowners, sprung from families that were
attached to the soil, they exploited the new teaching and the
democratic radicalism and made both alike serve their passions.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 35

It was a real service to the democracy to chastise them, and
by showing it the canker from which it suffered, to invite it to
purify itself.

II

The Banqueters was followed, in 426, by the Bahyloiiians,
j^rformed at the city festival of Dionysus.^ It is not very
likely that any of the undated plays was performed between
these two comedies. It was quite enough for a beginner to
have had one of his works accepted each year.

Though this second comedy is likewise lost, we have
somewhat more information about it. It was a political
satire of a much bitterer, much bolder and far more personal
kind than the first play. Success had heightened the young
poet's confidence as well as his literary ambition. He ardently
desired to distinguish himself by a brilliant success, and besides
this, certain occurrences in the year 427 appear to have greatly
increased his dissatisfaction as well as that of a good part of
the Athenian populace. Let us review them briefly.

During the year 428-427 Athens was profoundly agitated
by the Lesbian revolt and by the consequences that grew
from it.^

~~Mytilene, one of the most important states of the maritime
league, had openly withdrawn, and had formed an alliance with
the Lacedaemonians. This defection was peculiarly grave in itself,
but was even more so because it might have become the signal
for an uprising of all the oppressed and discontented allies.
Athens gave proof of its determination and energy. Mytilene
w^as blockaded, reduced to starvation and forced to sue for
mercy, before the Peloponnesian fleet could come to her aid.
After her subjugation was accomplished, it became necessary to
decide upon her punishment. In this connection the question
of the policy to be pursued towards the allies was raised and
passionately debated in the popular assembly. Should a reign

"^ Achamians, 1. 50.3, and scholia.

^For a detailed account of what happened, see Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii.
2nd part, p. 1002 ei seq.

36 THE BEGINNING OF

of terror be inaugurated ? Or did wisdom and humanity alike
enjoin moderation ? Thucydides has, in his usual manner,
given us a sort of abridged and ideal account of the discussion
that took place at this juncture ; ^ he does not describe in
detail the passionate changes of opinions. Two consecutive
meetings of the assembly were held. On the first day the
advocates of unmerciful severity carried all before them :
notwithstanding the energetic opposition of a certain Diodotus,
son of Eucrates,^ Cleon's proposal was adopted, and it was
decided to put to death all the Mytileneans who were old
enough to bear arms, and to sell the women and children as
slaves. Subsequently, in the course of the evening, and during
the night, a moral reaction set in. People thought about the
horror of such a slaughter — a more humane view prevailed. The
Mytilenean envoys, who were then in Athens, took advantage
of this disposition, and urged their friends to plead with the
magistrates. The latter called a second assembly on the fol-
lowing day, and asked for a fresh discussion. In it, Cleon and
Diodotus supported the same views as on the previous day, but
this time it was Diodotus who prevailed, though his majority
was small. One thousand of the Mytileneans who were most
heavily implicated were put to death,^ the rest were ejected
from the best part of their land for the benefit of Athenian
colonists.^

Cleon's attitude in this crisis was the same as usual. His
imperious and violent temperament instinctively sought the
simplest solution, though it was the most brutal and the most
inhuman. Thucydides, who reproduces the spirit, if not the
form, of the speeches he made at this time, has brought out
their character in bold relief. In them we see a hard-hearted
man of narrow and biassed intelligence, who converts politics
into a sort of rigid, imperious and inflexible mathematics. He
sets up the thesis that the sovereignty of Athens over her

1 Thucydides, iii. c. xxxvi. et seq. '^Thucydides, iii. cc. xxxvi. and xli.

* Even this number has been questioned ; several scholars think there is an
error in the text of Thucydides (Busolt, Griech. Gesch., iii. 2nd part, p. 1030);
but their arguments are far from conclusive.

* Thucydides, iii. 50.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 37

allies is a " tyranny," — that is, an absolute and arbitrary
power ; and this sovereignty must be maintained by means
that fit tyrannies — that is, by terror and force. His whole
policy is contained in this syllogism ; and this rampant dema-
gogue is well aware that it is contrary to the very spirit of
democracy. But this contradiction, instead of checking him,
drives him to increase his harsh demands, for it might, unless
care were taken, place his system in jeopardy. He therefore
advises the democracy to be distrustful of itself, that is,
in this instance, of justice, of humanity ; — and, since it is in
fact a tyranny, so far as its allies are concerned, he demands
that it act according to the rule of tyrannies. Such is the
essence of his speech ; the rest of it merely aimed at accentuating
the aggravating circumstances that were charged against the
Mytileneans.

Diodotus' reply presents this furious radicalism in even a
clearer light by refuting it. Diodotus does not meet Cleon's
arguments with considerations of humanity, but of politics.
In contrast to Cleon's uncompromising and abstract logic, he
holds up to view the complexity of real life. In substance he
says, " Cleon reduces everything to force, which amounts to an
admission that fear alone has complete power over mankind.
Now, this is not the case. Many other feelings sway them,
force them into action and frequently make them overcome
fear itself, be it that they scorn danger, or that they hope to
escape from it. Politics is the art of reckoning with these
feelings, and its essence is compromise. By nature it is
opposed to extreme measures, which permit of no other out-
come for revolt than despair."

There can be no doubt that these ideas, in their essential
parts, were actually expressed on the platform in these two
memorable assemblies. Not only is the good faith of Thucy-
dides a guarantee of this, but it may be said that they were
in the natural order of things. Without this conflict of
opinions, without this combat between two opposite theories,
the two successive votes of the Athenian Assembly would not
be intelligible.

If, on that day, these ideas were expressed with special

38 THE BEGINNING OF

forcefulness, it was because the crisis demanded it ; but they
most certainly had been in people's minds for a long time,
because they must, of necessity, have been engendered by the
very situation of Athens as regards her allies. There can
be no doubt that, even outside of the Assembly, they were
matter for discussion in the clubs, and that they agitated
Athenian society.

It is inconceivable that these ideas should not have taken
alvvMvvvV'' a, new lease of life at the close of the summer of 427 as a
l\,y^^ .,%■ consequence of these impassioned and much-talked-of discus-
sions. The better part of Athenian society, the most intelli-
gent, discreet and humane part, could not help subjecting its
conscience to a somewhat distressing examination. Had not
this rebellion of Mytilene, this unuttered but universal discon-
tent, that was so pregnant with future unrest, — had it not
been provoked ? Had not the allies been treated with a
severity that could not fail to drive them into open revolt ?
Their contributions had been increased, they had been forced
to bring their lawsuits to Athens, they had been deprived of
all power, they had been reduced to a state of subjection.
And even if all this was a necessity from the point of view of
a majority of the Athenians, sagacious and moderate men
were certainly convinced that the burden might have been made
less heavy. Instead of doing so, the politicians of the day
made it heavier through their severity. When the people
fixed the amount of the contributions, it was the politicians
who proposed and discussed it ; besides, rightly or wrongly,
they were accused of exacting money from the parties in
interest and of crushing those who refused to buy them off.
Again, it was the politicians who appeared as accusers before the
courts, in suits brought against the leading men of the allied
cities, and people did not shrink from saying that they drove
bargains with the fear that they inspired and that they grew
rich on threats. Probably this sort of talk was sometimes
true and often false. But such truth as there was in it
sufficed to make people who were already restless and discon-
tented accept it without question. And so it finally came
about that the entire responsibility for a state of affairs that

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 39

was attributable to them in part, but in part only, was placed
\ipon the leaders of the people, and especially upon Cleon.

But was Diodotus the mouthpiece of the oligarchical opposi-
tion at this juncture ? We have really no reason to think
this, but quite the contrary. Thucydides does not say a single
word that would warrant us in suspecting it, and nowhere else
in the history of the period do we again find this man engaged
in factional intrigue. Cleon himself makes no allusion what-
ever to anything of the kind in the speeches that the historian
attributes to him. The contest which Thucydides describes is
purely a struggle between two moral tendencies, the one more
humane, the other more severe, but both independent of party.
If we may trust his adversary, Diodotus would appear to be
a man who wished to oppose a subtle policy to a necessary
policy, not in the interests of a faction, but in order to increase
liis own prestige.^ The question suggests itself whether his
father, Eucrates, is identical with the demagogue and hemp-
dealer of whom Aristophanes made fun in the Knightsl'^ This
is not at all impossible or improbable.^ In any event, there
is absolutely no authority for connecting him with the aristo-
cracy. Indeed, it is more likely that the view which was
supported by the majority in the affair of Mytilene was
oligarchical neither in its origin nor in its development. It
may be that it brought together some of the oligarchs because
they detested Cleon, but, in fact, it was really Athenian, and
it is the Athenian character that deserves credit for it.^

Let us now picture to ourselves Aristophanes, young poet
as he was at this time, in the midst of this society and in
the uproar of these discussions. His play was ready in the
lieginning of 426, and must have been written at the close of
427 — that is under the immediate influence of the events of
which we have just spoken. In those days of political comedy

1 Thucydides, iii. 37. '^ Knights, 11. 129, 254.

^ Modern scholars, for reasons that are not clear to me, as a rule reject this
identification (Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii. 2ud part, p. 807, note 4). All
that one can say is that there were several men named Eucrates at Athens at

that time.

* Thucydides, iii. 34. 4 and 37. 2.

40 THE BEGINNING OF

the great concern of the competitors for the prize was to put
their finger upon the topic of the day. There was, in fact,
always, or nearly always, a topic that arose from actual
occurrences, and which was to be found latent in the minds
■of all. The difficulty lay in seizing upon it, in disengaging it
and in giving it shape. Quite often it happened that several
poets seized upon it at the same time ; and this is not surpris-
ing when we consider that these poets lived -in identical
surroundings and got their inspirations from identical sources.
Naturally each one of them, in working up the topic in
dramatic form, gave his own version of it by inventing a
comical fancy that was his own. We do not know what
comedies competed with Aristophanes' play, either at the
Lenaean festival of 426 or at the Great Dionysia of that year.
It is not improbable that the question of the allies served as
* a theme for several competitors ; it certainly was the topic

indicated or suggested by what was uppermost in people's
minds.

At all events, whether others dealt with it or not, Aristo-
phanes seems to have made it his very own by treating it
in a way that was bold to the point of being scandalous.
The Banqueters touched only indirectly upon politics. In the
Babylonians he handled it openly, and, from the very start, his
temerity outdid that of men like Cratinus, Hermippus and
Telecleides, who had already gained a reputation in this style
of composition.

Ill

, Unfortunately our knowledge of this play is very meagre ;

Btife-NiA 1^^^ ^|-^g little that we do know is not without literary interest

or historical value.

The first evidence to be noted is that given by the poet
himself. In the parabasis of the Acharnians he boasts of the
service he rendered the people by his comedy of the preced-
ing year, and by this he means the Babylonians. He says that
he taught them to distrust the hollow flattery of strangers,
and not to be deceived by " envoys from the states," and that

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 41

finally he showed them "" how democracy is practised in the
states," Kol TOi/? ^?/^iOf9 eV Tai^ iroXea-iv oei^a? Trcog orj/noKpa-
TovvTai (Acharn. 1. 642). " Moreover," he adds, " the allies are
all anxious to know this worthy poet, who has dared to tell
the Athenians the truth openly." Elsewhere he reminds us
that, as a consequence of this declaration, he was charged with
" having ridiculed the Eepuhlic and derided the people." ^
These various bits of information give at least a general out-
line of the play. In the first place, we learn from them that
its subject was the oppression of the allies and the tyranny to
which they were subjected under the guise of democracy. The
poet had dared to speak of justice and had pleaded the cause
of humanity." Furthermore, we see that he had introduced
envoys who fooled the Athenian people by means of flattery
and falsehoods.

A second authority amplifies this statement. An ancient
commentator tells us that in this same play Aristophanes
"made fun of the magistrates, of those chosen by lot as well
as those who were elected, and of Cleon also." ^ The only
elected magistrates to whom this can possibly have referred,
were, first the generals (arrpaTijyol) who were constantly
dealing with the allies, and next those prefects or governors
whom Athens sent with the title of ap)(ovTeg into the cities
under its sway.* As for officials chosen by lot, this designa-
tion may refer to members of the Athenian Senate, or to the
judges who constituted the courts, or perhaps to the Archon
Polemarchus, who was especially entrusted with jurisdiction
over foreigners.

^ Achaniians, 1. 631.

' Peace, 11. 759, 760 : toiovtov ISuv r^pas (Cleon) ov (caWSetcr', dX\ iitrip
vfiQv troXeiJ.i^wv avrelxof "i^' '^li tCop EWuiv v-^auv. This play was aimed against
Cleon, in the interests of Athens and of the islands.

^Schol. Achamians, 1. 378.

*0n this subject consult Dittenberger, Sylloge Inscriptionum Oraecnnim,
2nd edition, No. 54, note 5, and No. 2.3, where he shows that the creation of
these archons appears to antedate the Peloponnesian war. There seems to be
no doubt that these officials were elected, because Aeschines (i. 107) accuses
Timarchus of having " purchased" a position of this kind " for thirty minae."
It was evidently a case of corrupting voters.

42 THE BEGINNING OF

Wherein did the comical idea on which the plot of the play-
was based consist ? On this point, we must admit, there is
hardly anything but uncertainty and guesswork.

The title, it is true, indicates with almost complete certainty
that the chorus was composed of " Babylonians. "^ Of these
Babylonians we know, moreover, that they were forced to
tread the mill ; therefore they were slaves, and supposed to be
of barbarian origin.^ It has been surmised that these slaves
represented the allies.^ There is absolutely nothing to justify
this supposition, which would have precluded all dramatic
action. For, if the allies had been so represented from the
very beginning of the play, one fails to see what worse fate
could subsequently have befallen them. All that it is safe to
conclude from this account of the chorus is that the scene of
the play probably was a mill. This being settled, we can
imagine, from, what has been said above, what its essential
features must have been. Apparently this mill was supposed
to represent the Athenian Republic, and as the play was
directed against Cleon, there is reason to believe that Cleon
was represented as being the manager, who ran the mill for
the people. The allies may have appeared as farmers, who
were obliged to bring a part of their produce to their master,
under control of the manager and his appointed agents. Here
was a good chance to show up the manager as a sort of tyrant,
who robbed his master, besides demanding money from the
farmers and exacting the hardest terms from them.

It is not easy, it is true, to see how a plot of this kind
could have admitted envoys, nor what business the god
Dionysus pursued by sycophants had in it, to whom reference

1 H. Schrader, ijber den Ghor in Aristophanes Babyloniern, Philologus, vol.
xlii., 1884.

' Hesj'chius, 'Ea/j.iuv 6 5^/xos and BajSvXdivioi. Cf . Suidas, Ba/SuXwi'ioi. Fritzsehe
{De Bahyloniis Aristophanis Commentatio, p. 17) refuses to believe that a
comic chorus could have been composed of slaves. But do we not know that
a large number of tragic choruses represented slaves ? Why should the same
not have been the case in comedy ? Cf . fragments 64, 66, 79, 88 and 97 of the
Babylonians in the Comic, att. fragm. i. of Kock.

3 H. Schrader, loco citat. p. 580. Gilbert already held this opinion, Beitrage,
p. 148.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 43

is made in two fragments.^ But it must not be forgotten that
ancient comedy was essentially fanciful in its conceits, and
that its episodes frequently bore little or no relation to the
main subject. Had the Acharnians or the Knights been lost,
and if we merely knew that the former play represented an
Athenian peasant who had made a treaty of peace for himself
alone, or that the latter play placed the house of Demus and
the rivalries of his servants upon the stage, two things would
be hard for us to understand. First, how it was possible, in
the Acharnians, to see Euripides at home, surrounded by his
cast-off tragic garments ; and, secondly, how, in the Knights,
the poet had managed to introduce the account of a debate
before the Senate. In compositions of this kind severe logic
has no place. It is enough that the hypothesis as to the plot
of the Balylonians just suggested seems to fit in best with the
general facts of which we have knowledge. We need not
seek to guess how the plot was developed from scene to scene,
nor what inconsistencies it contained.

It is true that some scholars have thought that Aristophanes
alludes to a scene of his Babylonians in a passage in the
AcharniaTis, which was performed in the year following.
Dicaeopolis there speaks of the joy he felt " a year ago "
when he saw Cleon " disgorge the five talents," and he adds
that he loves the Knights for this good deed.'^ According to
a rather too ingenious critic, this passage recalled a scene in
the Babylonians, in which Cleon, hard-pressed by the Knights,
actually and coram publico, vomited five talents that he had
wrung from the allies.^ I think this interpretation is aljso-
lutely inadmissible. Not only is it difficult to imagine such a
scene, but this interpretation also assumes that the Knights

^Fragm. 70 and 71, Kock. So far as the envoys are concerned, there is
nothing to prevent our assuming that the trembling farmers came to beseech
the manager to procure them a reduction of their dues, and that, in order to
succeed, they indulged in the basest of flattery. Neither of the fragments
justifies the opinion according to which these envoys were a parody on the
embassy of Gorgias in behalf of Leontini (Bergk, Ranke, Gilbert). And yet
it is not wholly inadmissible.

* A chamians, 11. 5-8.

'Van Leeuwen, Acharnians, The Hague, 1901, note to v. 6.

44 THE BEGINNING OF

were given an important part in it, of whom no mention is
anywhere made ; and if the Knights had played this part in
the Babylonians, it is rather surprising that not a word should
be said about this in the Knights. Now, quite to the contrary,
the parabasis of the latter play seems to indicate clearly that
the poet's friendly relations with the young aristocrats were
at that time quite recent, and had not previously existed.
The allusion in the Acharnians must therefore be to another
occurrence, which I shall try to explain later.

Though there are various ways of conceiving the part given
to Cleon in the play, neither the fact that he had a part nor
its importance is to be doubted. So much is certain. On this
point the testimony of the scholiast quoted above is confirmed
by that of Aristophanes in the Peace} The influence that Cleon
exerted at this time, first acquired in the affair of the Myti-
leneans, must have made a profound impression on the youthful
poet. From this time on, he began to regard him as the man
who instigated and was responsible for all the evils from which
the Athenian democracy appeared to be suffering. Or rather,
with his vivid imagination, Aristophanes saw in him the per-
sonification of these evils, and presently arrived at the very
sincere conviction that, by overthrowing the one, he could
remove the other.

The play was performed at the Great Dionysia, as we have
said. This was the time when the allies brought their annual
tribute to Athens, and they did not fail to attend the
celebrations of the season.^ We can understand with what
feelings they welcomed this virulent satire on their oppressors.
We do not know positively how Aristophanes, or rather
Callistratus, who lent his name to the play, ranked in the
competition, but it appears certain that, had he received a
prize, he would not have failed to boast of it later on. It is,
therefore, most probable that he was awarded neither a first
nor a second prize. This was not for lack of support given to
his play by a large and influential party ; without it, however
great his courage, the poet would not have dared to run the

1 Peace, 11. 759-760.

"^Acharnians, 11. 643-644, and scliolia to 1. 377.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 45

risk to which he exposed himself. Such a comedy was possible
only where a certain consensus of public opinion backed it up.
Doubtless it owed its existence to the majority that had sup-
ported Uiodotus in the affair of the Mytileneans. On that
day a powerful sentiment had manifested itself, and the poet,
encouraged by the circles in which he moved, thought to find
in them a bulwark upon which he could count. Perhaps he
had not been entirely mistaken. There is every reason to
believe that, on the day of the competition, he was vigorously
supported in the theatre by his friends, by a considerable
part of the audience, especially by the country-folk, who were
hostile to the demagogues, and finally by the strangers who
were present. On the other hand, how could such a satire on
the Republic have failed to call forth violent protests, not-
withstanding the buffoonery in which the poet had been
careful to clothe it ? Without doubt, his chief attack was
directed against Cleon ; it was at his door that he laid all the
horrors of the policy that he condemned, but, in substance,
this policy had been approved by the people, and it was hardly
avoidable that they should feel somewhat offended.

This was enough to induce Cleon to believe that he could
get his aggressor punished. Everything led him to make the
attempt : his own interest, in the first place, and then his
quite natural resentment. He could not have been indifferent
to the rebuff he had received in the affair of the Mytileneans.
At that juncture he had encountered an unforeseen opposition,
which was not accidental but systematic, for it sprang from a
policy opposed to his own. And therein lay cause for anxiety.
Now Aristophanes' comedy proved to him that this opposition
was seeking to organize, that it was growing bolder and that it
aimed at spreadmg. It had to be checked by vigorous measures.
Moreover, in this instance, considerations of state seemed to
fall in with his personal interests. While the policy pursued
against the allies could be freely discussed in the assembly of
the people, was it not culpable leniency to allow accusations to
be brought against it in their very presence ? And was not
the man who thus denounced the oppression practised by
Athens, in the presence of the very people who were being

E

46 THE BEGINNING OF

oppressed and at the risk of forcing them into open rebellion
— was he not acting like a disloyal citizen ?

These considerations decided Cleon ; he resolved to avenge
the Eepublic and to revenge himself.

IV

Just how did he go about it ? The best way to discover
this seems to be to turn to Aristophanes' own testimony.

In the Acharnians'^ Dicaeopolis says : " I have not forgotten
what I suffered at Cleon's hands for last year's comedy. He
dragged me before the Senate, and there he made outrageous
charges against me, overwhelmed me with calumnies, came
down roaring on me like a torrent and lathered ^ me in such
a way that I almost perished in that unsavory affair."

Farther on ^ the same person adds : " To-day, at least, Cleon
will not be able to say that I insult the Eepublic in the
presence of strangers, for we are just among ourselves at the
Lenaea, and the strangers have not yet arrived."

These two passages, taken together, seem to be of a kind to
inform us quite accurately of what took place. But at the
very outset a difficulty presents itself, about which the com-
mentators hold various views. Dicaeopolis, who says these
things, quits his role for a moment and speaks in the name of
the poet. Who is the poet ? Is it Callistratus, who lent
Aristophanes his name ? Is it Aristophanes himself ?

Several scholars think that the defendant must have been
Callistratus ; they call attention to the fact that the play was
regarded as his, that he had accepted responsibility for it
when he brought it out as his own in the competition, and
that, in all probability, the great mass of the public did not
know the name of its real author. Others again are of the

^ Acharniaiis, 1. 377 et seq.

2 For " came down roaring on me like a torrent " and for " lathered " I am
indebted to Mr. W. W. Merry's note to verse .381. I have repeatedly borrowed
from that editor's excellent English versions. [Translator.]

^ Acharnians, 1. 502 et seq.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 47

opinion that, in a case like this, the secret was an open one,
that Aristophanes was certainly known as the author of the
Acharnians as soon as the play was performed, and that he
had likewise been known as the author of the Bahyloniayis
in the preceding year ; so, they contend, he was the person
with whom Cleon had to deal directly.^ This second opinion
seems to me to be correct, but it calls for some explanation.

Aristophanes borrowed the names of others, for a certain
number of his plays at least, during the greater part of his
life. It appears that his reasons for doing this were not
always the same ; but it would be a hard task to discover
them, and here we have to deal only with his first plays.
Now, as far as these are concerned, he has himself given a very
concise explanation of his motives in the parabasis of the
Knights — the first comedy he brought out under his own
name, in 424. In speaking of the Banqueters, he says, in
allegorical language, that, as he was at that time still too
young to acknowledge his child, he had abandoned it, and that
somebody else had taken it up. He adds that, if he has not
yet produced anything under his own name — and this, of
course, applies also to the Babylonians — it is because he knew
the exacting taste of the Athenians and also how hard a task
it was to write a successful comedy. So he had preferred to
serve his apprenticeship as a rower, before taking the helm of
the ship himself .2 It appears at once that none of these
reasons implies the existence of any secret.

If he thought himself " too young," he, no doubt, meant too
young to brave the decision of the archon, whose duty it was
to make a choice among the competitors, and to allow only
three of them to produce their plays. We can readily under-
stand that this official, who had to arrange the celebration of
the feast, and was responsible for its success, would not be
much inclined to take up a beginner, who was still a very
young man. But as soon as the beginner's play was offered by

1 Kaibel, art. "Aristophanes," No. 12, Pauly-Wissowa, pp. 973-974, by whom
the principal earlier writings on this subject are mentioned. Cf. Busolt,
Oriech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1060, note 1.

^Knights, 1. 512 et seq.

48 THE BEGINNING OF

a well-known poet, who made himself responsible for it and
who consented to offer his name as guarantee, it immediately
became a different matter. The archon was quite indifferent
to questions of literary ownership, and cared very little about
knowing who the real author was ; the less so, as collaboration
seems to have been quite frequent in the writing of comedies.
The name of Callistratus was in itself a guarantee, and that
was all that he required.

When once Aristophanes had officially transferred the
ownership of his work to the man who lent it his name,
there was no reason whatever to make a secret of the true
facts, especially when the play had already been accepted.
The other motive he mentions occasioned just as little need
for doing so. The apprenticeship of which he speaks seems to
refer chiefly to the technical part of his task. Evidently con-
siderable experience in the usages of the theatre was necessary
in order to stage a comedy after the fashion of the day. A
young man, lacking both authority and experience, even if
endowed with the most undoubted dramatic talent, would not
be equal to the task of devising the costumes and the masks,
of arranging the stage setting, regulating the entries and the
exits, the action and pantomime of the actors, and, above all,
the dances and songs of the chorus — in a word, of instructing
this whole array of artists, exacting their obedience, and
making them subordinate themselves to a single interpretation
of the play. In all this difficult and fatiguing business
Aristophanes must needs have given Callistratus precedence ;
but evidently that does not imply that he was not present at
the rehearsals, or that he hid behind the scenes during their
progress. It is even likely that he himself acted in his plays,
and it has been surmised, not without probability, that he
must personally have taken the part of Dicaeopolis, who spoke
in his name. Even if this was not the case, it must, at any
rate, be admitted that he took part in the preparations for the
performance, and that as a consequence he could not have
failed to be known as the real author to the whole theatrical
company, such as the actors, the members of the chorus,
the supernumeraries and the slaves employed on the stage.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 49

Surely it is hard to believe that all these people would have
kept the secret.

It is clear too that this secret was kept even less carefully in
the clubs of Athens. It is a strange misconception to imagine
that a comic poet of that day, and especially that Aristo-
phanes, wrote his plays after the fashion of Euripides, at home,
in his study and without telling anybody a word about them.
Nay, the comedies themselves seem to reveal to us that they
had their first origin in merry gatherings, at which it was the
fashion to joke, to make fun of people, and to invent all sorts
of nonsense. Of course they were not written in such sur-
roundings ; but many a scene must have been sketched in this
way, among friends, as one idea suggested another. Even if
the political plays, such as the Babylonians and the Knicjhts,
were not, properly speaking, conceived at these gatherings, they
were certainly tried there, and perhaps read aloud and applauded
before their performance. And he who read them was of
course the poet, a born pamphleteer, who found there, and
there alone, the surroundings which he needed for the production
of his masterpieces. Indeed, does he not make this clear
himself when, in his Knights, he tells us ^ that many people
had long been surprised that he had not yet produced anything
under his own name, and that they were urging him to com-
pete openly ? Who were these people, if not his companions ?
And how would this idea have occurred to them if the young
poet had not been known as the author of the plays that he
had entrusted to Callistratus ?

This being the case, we cannot doubt that Cleon made a
direct attack on his real adversary. The evidence which the
ancient commentators collected does not give us any more
precise information about these attacks than do the above
cited passages from Aristophanes' own writings. One of
them, however, adds that Cleon brought a suit impugning the
genuineness of the poet's citizenship.^ If this is correct, it is
clear that there is at least a confusion of dates in this state-
ment. This second suit cannot be contemporaneous with the
first, that is, earlier than the Acharnians, for in the passages of
^Knights, 1. 512. ^gchol. Acharnians, 1. 377.

50 THE BEGINNING OF

that play in which Aristophanes alludes so explicitly to his
troubles with Cleon, there is not a word bearing on this
matter. In point of fact, this suit was brought, not only
after the performance of the Acharnians, but even after that
of the Kniyhts. For the present we do not need to deal
with it.

To make an accusation before the Senate was an unusual
proceeding, applicable to certain offences which had not been
formally defined by law. In such cases the Senate did not
pass judgment according to a fixed written law, but according
to the best interests of the people.^ We can understand that
Aristophanes was alarmed. The passage above quoted shows
how great he thought his danger and how violent the attacks of
Cleon were. The latter seems very shrewdly to have ignored
his personal grievances. He accused the poet of " having
spoken ill of the city in the presence of strangers," and of
having " insulted public officials, elected or chosen by lot."
We do not know positively what penalty Aristophanes would
have suffered had he been found guilty. An ancient authority
informs us that it was one of the severest, without further
defining it.^ The penalty probably varied within certain
limits, but the poet most certainly ran a heavy risk.

It is a great pity that the various stages of this affair are
not known. All that we can say is that Aristophanes came
out of it unscathed : his tone in the Acharnians gives decisive
proof of this. If we choose, we may surmise that the influence
of some powerful friends stood him in good stead. But even
so, it must not be forgotten that the Athenian Senate was not
at this time at all an aristocratic body. As its members were

^ Harpocration, WirayyeKla, Pollux, viii. 51. The passage in Hie Polity
of the Athenians attributed to Xenophon (ii. 18), in which he says "the
Athenians do not permit the people to be made the subject of comedy nor to
be ill spoken of," does not seem to refer to a formal written law. At any
rate, such a law did not exist in 426, for, had it existed, Cleon would have
prosecuted Aristophanes before a court and not before the Senate.

^ Harpocration, loc. cit. Aristotle's account, Constitution of Athens, 45,
indicates that before the introduction of the appeal to the people, the Senate
could, in certain cases, even pronounce sentence of death. It is clear that
this cannot apply here.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 51

simply chosen by lot every year, it seeins certain that it was at
that time open to all classes of society, even to the very poorest.^
[Therefore if the Senate showed a friendly disposition toward
Aristophanes, we may be sure it was not owing to any veiled
sympathy with the opposition. It is more likely that the poet,
or his patrons, succeeded in showing that the prosecution mis-
interpreted his intentions, and that, in fact, he had not wished
to attack the people, but the politicians. Furthermore, the
Athenian people as a whole, and without distinction of party,
seem to have been kindly disposed toward comedy. They
liked it just as it was, with its unbridled license, and they did
not care to have it made tiresome under the pretext of dis-
ciplining it. The restrictive law which Pericles had passed in
440 was enforced for three years only; since its abrogation
the people had become so well accustomed to all the auda-
cities of comedy that they no longer attached great importance
to them.

So it probably came about that CI eon's high-sounding wrath
was all in vain. The words of Aristophanes, " I almost
perished," appear simply to indicate that his adversary
managed to get together a fairly strong minority. And yet
the argument drawn from the presence of strangers must have
made an impression. The poet had observed this, and when,
in the Acharnians, he was about to renew his attacks upon
the prevailing policy, he took care to call attention to the fact
that he was speaking to the citizens only, at a time when the
strangers had not yet arrived.

Indeed, this was the only lesson he learned from this trying
experience, which might have turned out badly. To change
his style, to renounce political comedy, to forget Cleon — of this
he was incapable. His impetuous nature urged him on to the
combat, his friends summoned him to it, his interest and his
honor as a poet were involved in it. He waited for an
opportunity to renew the fight, and the opportunity soon pre-
sented itself, because he was waiting for it.

^ Schoemann-Lipsius, Griechische AltertliiLmer, i. p. 396.

^il

52 THE BEGINNING OF

Still, it did not come immediately. Indeed, it is worth
noting that in the following year, 425, Aristophanes neither
attacked Cleon personally nor even the demagogues as a class.

At the Lenaean festival of that year he brought out the
, ^ Acharnians, an ardent declaration in favor of peace.^ It may
i^"*!^ be that one of his lost j)lays was performed at the Great
Dionysia of the same year. We cannot affirm that this was
the case. The Acharnians, therefore, affords us the only clue
in our attempt to gain an idea of what was in his mind at
that time. In this instance, we have to deal with a play which
is still extant, and consequently we can at least argue from
well-established evidence.

The first thing that strikes one in this play is that
Cleon does not appear in it. A few satirical allusions to his
misfortunes, or to his vices, would hardly deserve to be men-
tioned, were it not that one of them calls for an explanation.
I have already cited this in a previous chapter, in order to
point out that one of the methods of interpreting it must
be regarded as incorrect.

What is the significance of the joy, which, at the beginning
of the play, Dicaeopolis declares he felt in the preceding year
when, thanks to the knights, Cleon was compelled to " dis-
gorge his five talents " ? ^ One of the scholiasts, following the
historian Theopompus, tells us that Cleon had received five
talents from the allies for proposing to the people a reduction
of tribute in their favor, and that the knights got wind of
this bargain and obliged him to return the money .^ Taken
literally, this explanation seems inadmissible ; and indeed it is
so.^ We cannot imagine that a suit was brought against
Cleon by the knights as a class, for they did not constitute a

^Argument of the Acharnians.

"^Acharnians, 1. 5, rois irivre roKavTois, oh WKiuv i^-rjfiecre . . .
^Schol. Acharnians, 1. 6.

■• MuUer-Striibing, Aristophanes tmd die historische Kritik, Leipzig, 1873,
pp. 119-181.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 53

body possessing a civic personality. It is quite as difficult to
believe that some of their number, secretly supported by the
rest, should have charged Cleon with venality, and that
they should have brought about his conviction. Such a con-
viction would, at least for a long time, have destroyed Cleon's
authority, which, quite on the contrary, seems to have been
more firmly established than ever in 425. Moreover, we meet
with no allusion whatever to such an outcome in the later
plays of Aristophanes.

Still, these considerations do not warrant us, as fair critics,
in purely and simply rejecting the statement of Theopompus.
Most probably the commentator misunderstood this statement,
and attached greater importance to it than it really had.

The allusion of Aristophanes and that of the historian are
sufficiently explained, if we assume that, after Cleon had in
that year proposed to reduce the contributions of some of the
allies, his proposal was rejected owing to the representations of
some orator belonging to the class of the knights. Cleon's
ill-wishers were sure to insinuate that he had demanded pay
from the interested parties for the position he took, and that,
thanks to the vigilance of his adversaries, he had been forced
to return the money. This is the tale which Aristophanes
took up and interpreted after his own fashion, and which
Theopompus perhaps likewise accepted as the truth.^

Further on in the play the same Dicaeopolis defies Cleon :
" Let him scheme and intrigue against me as much as he
likes. Eight is on my side and justice will be my ally.
I, at any rate, need not fear that I shall be convicted of being
a bad citizen and a debauchee, as he has been." - Does this
defiance refer to a renewal of hostilities ? That is hardly pro-
bable. It merely proves that at this time Aristophanes felt
sufficiently reassured to taunt his adversary.

^ Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 994, note 6, has suggested another
explanation. He surmises that Cleon was the chief of the treasurers
('EWyivoTa/xiai) in 427-426, and that, in this capacity, he withheld, an account
of his hostility to the Knights, the sum which the state allowed them for
forage, and which amounted to five talents. This would then be the sum the
Knights forced him to give up.

^ Achamians, 11. 659-664.

54 THE BEGINNING OF

But these words were uttered casually and these taunts
were of no consequence. In a word, Cleon is not directly
attacked in the Archarnians ; and this is the more surprising
when we recall that the object of the play is to ridicule the
advocates of war to the bitter end, and that, according to the
formal statement of Thucydides, Cleon was the most decided
opponent of all proposals making for peace.^ Shall we infer
that the poet was moved to take this attitude by considerations
of prudence ? A mere semblance of probability might lead us
to think so ; but a close examination of the play affords quite
a different view of the case, and gives us an insight into the
conflict of public opinion and into Aristophanes' own relation
to political parties.

And first let us observe how the party which advocated war
to the bitter end is impersonated in his comedy. Therein lies,
unless I am mistaken, the decisive point, and one that has not
yet been given all the attention it merits.

The champions of war are, on the one hand, the chorus,
consisting of charcoal-burners from Acharnae, and on the
other, the taxiarch Lamachus. What are we to think of
them respectively ?

Lamachus cannot be regarded as a representative of any party.
Neither his father, Xenophanes, nor he himself, appears to have
played any important part in the politics of the day. No-
where does Aristophanes picture him as being associated with
the demagogues, and nothing in his play indicates a desire
to decry him as a soldier-politician or as the tool of the
popular leaders. The man he seems to have in view is the
professional officer, who makes a livelihood by the pursuit of
arms and who would not amount to anything in the state
were it left without a standing army after the re-establish-
ment of peace. He humorously calls him " Spoudarchides " ("a
man whose ambition it is to command "), and " Mistharchides "
(" a man of lucrative commands ").^ These two words sum up

1 Thucydides, v. 16. This statement refers, it is true, to the year 422 ; but there
is every reason to believe that Cleon's attitude in this matter had never varied.

^Acharnians, 11. 595 and 597. For the word (nrov8apxl87]s cf. Gilbert,
Beitrdge, p. 14, note 1.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 55

his satirical conception of this type of man. The peasant
Dicaeopolis, speaking for the poet, is set against this class of
professional men-at-arms, to whom, in case of war, well-paid
positions are given, and who frequently are appointed ambas-
sadors, on account of their prominence or of their technical
knowledge.^ He abhors the very profession ; those who follow
it are, in his eyes, the natural enemies of peace. The fact
that, in this passage, Lamachus has the honor of representing
all his colleagues is probably due to his name, which smacks of
battle, or perhaps to some other personal reason of which we
know nothing. At all events, Aristophanes made no attempt
to individualize him. Even his raillery is of a general
character. The absurd traits which he imputes to him are
the absurdities of the profession, and he carries them to the
point of caricature : love of martial array, braggadocio, and a
loud voice, fit to scare children. This applies also to the
misfortunes of the poor taxiarch : they are those that befall
the profession. Thus we see that the comedy deals harshly
not with a political faction, as such, but with that liking for
war, which a certain class of citizens entertained from purely
personal motives.

The Acharnians who constitute the chorus are true pea-
sants, just such as Dicaeopolis ; by turns wood-choppers,
charcoal-burners or vintners. In time of peace they lived
at quite a distance from Athens, in their big village of
Acharnae and its suburbs, at the foot of Mt. Parnes, whose
underwood and brakes of green oak they exploited. We may
be sure that they did not constitute Cleon's regular supporters,
and that these honest folk had nothing in common with the
famished clients of the demagogues who battened on lawsuits
and delighted in the debates of the ecclesia. Besides, they
formally declare that they detest him." Had Aristophanes
wished to represent the advocates of war to the bitter end as
the mere tools of those politicians whom he had flayed to the
very quick in the Babylonians, he would not have brought them

^ Achatiiians, 11. 599-619.

^A charnians, 1. 300 : ws fxefiicrriKd ae KXiuivos ^ti fj.aWoi', 6v Karare^iu) toTctiv Imriuffi
KaTTVfxara.

56 THE BEGINNING OF

before his audience in the costume and with the characteristics
of these honest, vigorous labourers.

His train of thought was quite different. He appraised
the situation with that intuitive acumen which he more than
once disphiyed. Much as he personally abhorred war, he felt
at this juncture that, although it was not exactly popular,
it was, to say the least, accepted with faith and ardor
by a very large number of Athenians, without distinction of
class or opinion, and perhaps even by a part of the rural
population which suffered from it more particularly. Doubtless
this ardor occasionally showed signs of lagging ; people longed
for peace, complained bitterly of all the hardships they had to
endure, dreamed of their fields, of a quiet and easy life, of
their beautiful rustic festivals, of well-stocked markets, of
smiling and bounteous peace. But these dreams touched the
imagination without penetrating into the depths of the soul, or
reaching the mainsprings of the will. The will remained firm;
for all the grievances of yesterday were always present, like so
many fresh wounds that the war inflamed with each year
that passed. To have pictured on the stage this national
struggle as the work of a political party, and, above all, as that
of a politician whom no one esteemed in his heart, would have
meant running the risk of gravely ofifending public opinion.
Aristophanes was much too shrewd to make such a mistake.

His Acharnians are honest in their convictions. They
instinctively detest Lacedaemon as the hereditary and perfidious
enemy of their country.^ And, what is more, they are furious
because the invader has devastated, torn up, and burnt their
vineyards.- These are not ridiculous sentiments, and the poet
never could have thought of making fun of them. If the
members of the chorus provoke laughter, it is only in their
external aspect. It was the fashion among the Athenian city
folk to joke about these rustics, who were seen in the streets
of the town, stick in hand, driving before them their donkeys
laden with great bags of charcoal.^ Aristophanes knew how

^Acharnians, 11. 290, .308 : o'iaiv oSre /3co/i6s oiire -wla-Tis ovd' SpKos fx^vei.
^Acharnians, 1. 226 : o'icrL Trap' e/xoO TrdXe/xos ex^o^oToj ay^erai ruiv ifxCiv x'-'-'pl^^''-
^Hesychius, 'Ax°-P'"-'^o'^ ^"O'-

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 57

to put this disposition to jest about them to good use. He
drew a humorous picture of them, as raging old men armed
with cudgels, who shout, run about and carry on ; he was
careful not to forget the bag of charcoal ; he calls it their
beloved child which they will save at any cost.^ Add to this
their make-up, their gestures, their by-play and dances, and
you have all that is needed to delight a popular audience. IJut
this buffoonery was not directed against the sound morals of
these peasants, whom the poet loved and whom he had not the
slightest intention of treating as enemies. And besides, their
warlike rage is nothing but a folly of short duration, or rather
a misunderstanding. They have been duped. Dicaeopolis
needs but to open their eyes, and we shall again see their
peaceable nature assert itself.

Thus, according to Aristophanes, the war party consists, in
the first place, of a lot of honest and sincerely patriotic people,
instinctive friends of peace and fruitful labor, but for the
moment carried away by quite legitimate feelings which they
exaggerate, and led astray by false ideas which others have
foisted upon them. The same party, furthermore, consists of
certain professional military men, whom the war supplies
with a livelihood and heaps with honors, and who would be
nobodies without it. He jokes pleasantly about the former
group, but takes good care not to lash them. The second
group meet with harsher treatment : in Aristophanes' eyes the
valiant Lamachus is nothing but a contemptible fellow who
plays the bully. But even this is of no great consequence :
this pygmy is too pitiable a figure to bear the weight of
satire. The poet's satire strikes other people, of whom we
must now speak.

Aristophanes' real adversary in the Acharnians, the chief
butt of his satire, is the instigator of the war, Pericles, who
had died four years previously, but still survived in his
opinions, which were always present to the minds of the
Athenians, where they had taken root and, as it w^ere,
hardened into dogma.

How does the poet make his attack on the famous statesman ?
1 Acharnians, 11. 326-340.

58 THE BEGINNING OF

He does not put him on the boards in person ; perhaps there
were many reasons for this which one might guess at,
but I beUeve the chief consideration was that it would have
been impossible, unless he were to be made grotesquely insig-
nificant, to bring him before an audience without making him
defend his political attitude. Now that would have been
tantamount to introducing an appeal to sentiments which
comedy had above all to avoid awakening. His attack is
therefore made merely by means of speeches and narrative,
while Pericles is purposely left in the background of the past.
The poet takes good care to say nothing of the more or less
cogent or specious reasons which, in fact, he might have
alleged. Dicaeopolis speaks in the name of the poet.^ We
know how guardedly he does it, and what buffoonery he is
careful to employ, in order first to put his hearers in good
humor. But let us examine the matter more closely. Is
Pericles represented in this speech either as a leader of the
people or as the spokesman of a political party ? Not at all.
He appears as the toy of a woman, as the slave of Aspasia's
caprice; and the very disproportion between the cause and the
effect casts ridicule on his eloquence. The thunder of his
words reverberated through peaceful Greece, his speeches let
loose a tempest and upset the world ; and why ? Because a
few courtesans had been kidnapped ! Then came the decree
forbidding the Megarians to trade with Athens, a decree which
the poet succeeds in making ridiculous by playing upon its
very provisions. Thereupon Lacedaemon espoused the cause
of her allies. Would not Athens have done as much had her
allies been interfered with ? In a word, all the motives for
war amount only to slight and insignificant grievances, rendered
bitter by a redoubtable orator, who, purely from selfish interest,
managed to keep the Athenians from seeing things in their
true light.
- j^e Vln its form the attack does not look very serious ; but we

g;^*v5l^*' "^^f %« must grasp the intention that underlay this sportive form.
%,ix^^^ ' ■ Granted that the facts just recited are mere gossip, the infer-

" ^ - ■ ence, to the poet's thinking, is that war was actually begun on

^ Acharjiians, 1. 496 e< seg.

ARISTOPHANES' CAREER 59

account of idle bickerings, which a true statesman would have
disregarded with contempt. ' That is what he conveys after his
own fashion in the language of comedy. Little does he care
whether the details are true or false; he occupies himself with
their essential truth. In his eyes, the important thing is that
they should, in a humorous way, represent the kind of grievances
that brought about the fatal vote. As for the more serious
reasons, those, for instance, that alone struck a Thucydides,
there is nothing to prove that he did not perceive them. But
then these reasons would have justified an eternal war, for
they arose from the very conditions that governed the existence
of the two rival states, and they were bound to endure until
one or the other, or both of them at once, were completely
exhausted. Thus there was the choice of fighting for an inde-
finite time or of making peace as soon as possible, and seeking
to live on good terms, notwithstanding the permanent causes
of conflict. Aristophanes thought that the second alternative
was the better, and to-day the impartial historian apparently
thinks he was right. This being the case, he, no doubt, judged
that it was wiser to let the serious grievances slumber, and to
speak of them as little as possible. Indeed he did not speak
of them at all, and he acted wisely.

Unless I am mistaken, this feeling of patriotic prudence had
a great deal to do with the exceptional reserve which, in this
instance, he maintained toward the demagogues. The same
considerations that had kept him from attributing too much
importance to the policy of Pericles, even though he openly
opposed it, must also have kept him from letting either Cleon
or any of his companions appear on the stage ; they even kept
him from directly discussing them. He did not wish to be
obliged to impute to them speeches which would have to be of
a kind to stir up a part of his audience, if they were to retain
any degree of probability. He did not even wish, by attacking
them too savagely, to awaken the passions that divided the
Athenian public on this national question. The feelings to
which he appealed were such as were shared by all to a greater
or less degree. Leaving it to the past to take care of the
burning question on whom the true responsibility rested, he

(0^.<^•

60 BEGINNING OF ARISTOPHANES' CAREER

let it appear that it was not on a party, but on a single man
who was no longer alive. He purposely ignored prudent
consideration of the future, of deep-seated and lasting rival-
ries, of the inevitable conflict between Athenian democracy
and Spartan oligarchy, and chose to insist only on the benefits
of peace and on the insignificance of the sacrifice of self-esteem
that it would call for in the present emergency.

Thus it came about that, by way of exception, he wrote a
play which had nothing to do with the strife of parties, and
which was simply and solely inspired by what he considered
the interests of the nation. It even happened that, as if to
make his intentions clearer, he pictured his habitual allies as
momentarily at odds : he made the peasants of Acharnae oppose
the peasant Dicaeopolis. But he set them at odds merely
for a moment, so that he might presently reconcile them and
finally bring them together in a joyful exodus, celebrating
the pleasures of peace which they had re-established.

\>^.i,^r ^^^

CHAPTER II
THE KNIGHTS

Aristophanes' war upon the leaders of the demagogical party,
which had apparently been suspended while he was writing
the Acharnians, is directly afterwards renewed with violence
in the comedy of the Knights, performed at the Lenaean
festival of the year 424, and consequently written in the last
months of 425. So far as its pervading spirit is concerned,
this play is a sort of continuation of the Babylonians ; but it
appears to have exceeded the latter play in virulence. At
all events it was to have a very different scope, whether this
was due to existing circumstances or to the more advanced
thought of the poet. In the Bahylonians the rule of the
demagogues had been attacked by the brilliant pamphleteer as
the instrument of a hateful tyranny that lay heavily upon the
allies of Athens. In that play it was merely a question of
excesses of a very special sort, such as are closely connected
with the existence of a maritime confederacy. In the Knights
he censures, and even more boldly, the domestic government
of these same demagogues, the means they adopt to influence
the people, indeed all the principles or passions that animate
them. Although he speaks only of Athens and of his own
contemporaries, he is, perforce, led to touch upon certain
matters that recur more or less at all periods and in all places,
because they are part and parcel of that human nature on
which all social life hinges.

F

62 THE KNIGHTS

What led Aristophanes to write this dramatic pamphlet,
perhaps the most audacious that was ever put upon the stage?
This is the question which it is our duty to study first. We
shall thus see how much influence it is proper to attribute to
the various political parties in the plot of his play.

A glance at this plot reveals that it is based, on the one
hand, upon certain political incidents of the day, and, on the
other, upon a whole array of reflections that have, as it were,
crystallized about these incidents. It is important to note
this distinction at the very outset. /

As to the incidents, they were the deeds and/political
/- successes of Cleon in 425. In that year Cleon was for a
second time chosen by lot to exercise the functions of senator.
This made it possible for him to exert a preponderating

/^ influence on the grand council of the repviblic, which super-

/ vised the administration of the navy and that of the treasury,
discussed with the generals the measures to be undertaken,
and worked out, in advance, all the deliberations of the
assembly. It was probably at this time that he had the

K pay of the heliasts raised to three obols, and that he induced
the people to increase the tribute imposed upon the allies.^

But his influence chiefly manifested itself in the affair at
Pylus and Sphacteria. There is no need to recall it here in

// detail.^ It will be remembered how Demosthenes, one of the
most energetic and intelligent soldiers of this period, hit upon
the happy idea of occupying a position on the west coast of
Peloponnesus, which was to gather about an Athenian garrison
the numerous enemies that Sparta had m that region, and
particularly the oppressed Messenians and the fugitive helots.
The point he occupied was Pylus, and not only were the
Athenians able subsequently to repel the attempt made by the
Spartans to dislodge them, but, what was more, the Pelopon-
nesian fleet was destroyed by the Athenian fleet. Besides, a
body of Lacedaemonian troops was blockaded in the harbor of
Pylus, on the little island Sphacteria, and it was not very long
before its situation became desperate. Since the beginning of

1 For these facts consult the description of G. Gilbert, Beitriige, pp. 177-194.

2 For the entire account consult Thucydides, iv. cap. 4-41.

THE KNIGHTS 63

the war Athens had never gained so decided an advantage.
The glory of it fell, in the first instance, to Demosthenes, who
had conceived and carried out the successful venture, and in
the next, to Nicias, who appears to have been sent as general
to conduct the campaign, and who had successfully organized
the defence of Pylus and the blockade of Sphacteria.

Sparta was struck with consternation, and made overtures
.of peace. Cleon prevented their being accepted. ISTo doubt
he thought Athens could be more exacting, when she had once
forced her beleaguered enemy to surrender. But the campaign
which had begun so brilliantly was prolonged through the
Summer. The Spartans who were blockaded on the island
secretly received provisions and refused to surrender. The
Athenian generals dared not make an attack across the dense
brakes which encircled the island like a natural rampart.
Public opinion at Athens was disturbed. The bad weather
was sure to incapacitate the cruisers, and therefore to put an
end to the blockade, thus permitting the Spartans to escape.
People began to wonder how the matter would end.

It was at this juncture that Cleon interfered in a decisive
manner. One day, after publicly finding fault with the
incapacity and the inertness of the generals, he declared, with
his habitual braggadocio, that, if he had been in their place, he
would have brought the whole business to an end long since.
He was taken at his word, and found himself entrusted, by a
decree of the assembly, with the command of the expedition,
in place of Nicias. The latter, delighted at the chance of
getting even with him, had willingly resigned in his favor.
The demagogue was at first disconcerted, but he accepted the
appointment, and, once in command, he displayed intelligence
and energy. He collected a body of light troops, such as were
needed for the attack, and proceeded to Pylus, where he made
a complete plan of campaign with the help of Demosthenes.
An accidental fire on the island had just destroyed a part of the
woods — a lucky chance for Cleon. He had the good sense to
take advantage of it. The assault, under his lead, had the best
possible success. All the Spartans who did not perish in the
ficfht fell into the hands of the victors. Cleon's return to

64 THE KNIGHTS

Athens was a triumph ; he brought with him nearly three
hundred prisoners, of whom a hundred and twenty were
Spartans — precious hostages for subsequent negotiations. The
people thought that now they were in a safe position to
dictate their own terms of peace. The deeds of Demosthenes
and of Mcias were forgotten. Cleon was the hero of the
hour, had honors heaped upon him, and gained all the credit
of this magnificent success.

The unfairness of this popular verdict seems to have sug-
gested to Aristophanes the first idea of his play ; at all events
he derived from it the conception of the initial scheme upon
which the plot is built up. But this scheme, based, as we have
seen, on a simple incident, could at best have produced only a
play of transient interest, had it not been enriched by a mass
of reflections that went far beyond it.

Cleon's astonishing good luck did not begin at Sphacteria.
We have already seen what manner of man he was and how
he began his career. He had already emerged from obscurity
during the lifetime of Pericles, and a few years had suificed to
make him the real leader of Athenian politics. Success of
this kind must have seemed scandalous to the circles in which
Aristophanes moved. If they had used calm judgment, they
would perhaps have recognized that it had a partial explanation
in certain qualities of the demagogue, who was by no means an .
ordinary man. But resentment and hatred, whether they were
warranted or not, blinded the best minds, or rather, when
they discussed his successes, their natural perspicacity was
directed solely to laying bare the viciousness of the man and of
the whole regime. Moreover, their estimates, fair and profound
as they often were, but incomplete and ex parte, became, as it
were, an ever-growing nucleus about which base slander and
insulting innuendo gathered. And so it came about that the
clubs developed a caricatured portrait of the man who was the
object of universal anger, and, together with it, a strong anti-
democratic doctrine. We shall see presently with how great
power of invention the comic poet managed to complete this
portrait, to make an issue of it, to adapt it for the comic stage,
how, in a word, he stamped it with his own mark. As for the

THE KNIGHTS 65

anti-democratic doctrine, we must not seek for it in his play, ^i^^,-, c.
for, in its complete form, it does not appear there at all.^
Indeed, in order to appreciate to what extent and for what
reasons he gave it so wide a berth, it is necessary to gain as
exact a picture of it as possible from the records that still
permit us to study it.

II

This doctrine was based on the idea, common to all the old
Greek aristocracies, that the people were incapable of self-
government. We know the insulting acrimony with which
Theognis expressed it as early as the sixth century. "Trample
underfoot," he cried, " crush with thy heel the empty-headed
commons!"^ Beneath this cry of anger and vengeance there lay
even at that time a well-defined conviction. In the fifth century
it was to be formally stated by the earliest political theorists.
Herodotus, at any rate, attributes it to the Persian prince
Megabazus, when he rejected the democratic projects of Otanes:
" The masses have no practical sense ; there exists nothing less
intelligent, nothing more insolent. It would be folly to give
oneself over to the tyrannical caprice of an undisciplined
people, in order to escape that of a monarch. The tyrant at
least knows what he is doing when he acts ; the people do not
know. How can they be expected to know, since they have
neither education nor an inborn appreciation of the beautiful ?
They rush headlong into action, and then carry it on without
reflecting, like a torrent let loose."- Here we see opinion
developing into theory. The speaker states reasons which he
derives from a summary observation of the facts. The
champion of oligarchy declares that the people, as he sees
them, are not only without the rudiments of education, but
also lack what might make up for it — that instinct which
comes of inherited discipline. He may have come across these
ideas (which, by the way, Herodotus does not lay up against
him) in Greece, among those aristocracies which were imbued
with the Pythagorean spirit.

^Theognis, 847: \a^ evi^a Stj/jlo) Kev€6<ppovL. ^^ Herodotus, iii. 81.

66 THE KNIGHTS

That they were current in Athens in aristocratic circles
is attested both by history and by literature.

Nowhere do we find them stated with more acrimony than
in the work, The Polity of the Athenians, wrongly attributed to
Xenophon, but probably written at Athens by a political
theorist and partisan of oligarchy, about the year 424.^ This
little work, which has neither a beginning nor an end, seems
to be a detached fragment of a composition in the form of a
treatise, which may possibly have dealt with democracy in
general, or with certain democracies in particular. When he
reaches the Athenian democracy, the author constrains himself
to examine it in a philosophical spirit, without, it is true,
disguising his aversion to it, but also without allowing his
judgment to be obscured by that aversion. He forcefully
attacks certain opinions that were evidently current round
about him. Hearing people say that democracy is absurd, and
that corrupt, impetuous and hostile as it is to every form of
justice and to all decency, it needs must presently be trans-
formed or go under — he methodically proceeds to prove that,
far from being absurd, the Athenian democracy lives up to its
principles, and consequently acts in a rational and logical
manner. He also maintains that it cannot be transformed,
nor even appreciably modified, without losing its democratic
character ; and, lastly, that the people it harms are too few in
number to be a serious menace to it. In a way, this statement,
as strange as it is interesting, is an apology, but an apology
that amounts to an accusation, as the orator finds the only
justification for democracy in its complete adherence to its
principles. He sits in judgment on them and declares them

^ Few works have been studied more, and more discussed. All these discus-
sions have been clearly and conveniently summed up in Busolt, Griech. Gesch.
iii. 2nd part, pp. 609-616. None of the opinions hitherto expressed completelj'
satisfies me. The work gives me the impression of being a fragment. I shall
explain, in the course of this discussion, what I conceive to be its general pur-
pose. The author must have belonged to the faction of Antiphon. He is a
thinker who aims at precision, who wishes to see and to show things as they
really are ; he has something of the spirit of Thucj'dides in him. His seeming
incoherence arises, in part, from the defective state of the manuscripts. As a
matter of fact, and notwithstanding a certain stiffness and an occasional
clumsiness, this thinker is a literary man.

THE KNIGHTS 67

abominable. The very vehemence that lurks under his as-
sumed coolness, speaks for the force of the opinions which he
(Uscusses. We divine them, nay, we see them behind his
refutation. More instructive historical evidence than this is
rarely found.

He is of the same mind with those whom he wishes to
enlighten, and he begins by openly declaring that all respec-
table people are quite right in abhorring popular government.
He says : " In every country the best elements are opposed to
democracy. And who constitute the best elements ? Are
they not those in whose circles there exists the least dissolute-
ness or wrong-doing, and who devote themselves most seriously
to honest pursuits ? Now, it is among the common people
that we find, in highest degree, ignorance, moral depravity,
dishonesty. More than all others, they are driven to dis-
graceful acts by poverty, by lack of education, by ignorance,
and some of them in particular by impending destitution." ^
Here we have the first fact which he thinks evident, nay,
incontestable. This fact once recognized, what room is there
for surprise that the government of a democratic state is in
the hands of the very worst elements in the city ? " If the
respectable people could gain a hearing, if their advice were
taken, the result would doubtless be advantageous to those
who are of their own kind, but not to the common people.
On the other hand, anybody, any worthless fellow, getting up
to speak as he pleases, is sure to discover what is advantageous
to himself and his fellows. Can you expect such a person to
be a competent judge of his own and the people's interests ?
The fact is, the common people think that the ignorance and
dishonesty of such a counsellor, who is in entire sympathy
with them, avail them better than the sagacity and the excel-
lence of a respectable man, who feels only antipathy for
them." ^ Of course they would make a mistake if they wished
to be well governed ; but they have not the slightest disposition
so to be governed. " The people are not anxious that the city
have good laws, if, as a result, they are forced to obey them.
They want to be free and to rule. That the laws happen to

' Polity of the Athenians, cap. v. -Ibid. c. vi.

68 THE KNIGHTS

be bad, is a matter of indifference to them." ^ Thus, power
in the hands of the most disreputable elements is, in the eyes
of the writer, the necessary concomitant, and, as it were, the
basic law of democracy, and to his mind this lies in the nature
of things. All that follows is merely the development of this
idea. From beginning to end of his treatise he shows us the
people doing evil, not by chance, not from a momentary
impulse, not because they are misled, but because evil-doing is
their special province. The choice of their counsellers or of
their governors is therefore dictated by a selfish, but correct,
appreciation of their interests. And this quite naturally leads
up to the idea, already touched upon, that democracy cannot
be reformed without ceasing to be democracy.

Doubtless this doctrine was not accepted, in this extreme
form, by all who constituted the opposition at Athens in 424.
The treatise with which we are dealing would have had no
object, had all those to whom it is addressed been convinced
in advance of what it proclaims. Yet it is just the certainty
of its conclusions that it presents in a manner hitherto not
understood. It takes up ideas that are vague, scattered and
partially apprehended, analyses them, makes them clear by
citing facts of daily occurrence and assembles them in groups.
No doubt all who belonged to the militant oligarchical party
were in the main of the same opinion as the author.^ The
platform of the hetairies was based on these ideas. People
did not believe in the possibility of an honest democracy.
As a matter of politics, they pretended to wish to reform it, as
it existed ; in fact they strove to replace it by an oligarchy,
which some wished to be moderate, and others absolute and
clothed with authority.

Our question is whether these ideas are to be found in
Aristophanes' Knights, and whether, if their influence is felt in
one part or another of the play, it was profound enough to
suggest to the poet what was essential in his thesis. In other

'^Polity of the Athenians, c. viii.

^Cf. Thucydides, vi. 89. 6. Alcibiades' speech at Sparta: iirei 8r]fx.oKpaTiav
ye Kal iyiyvdiaKO/Mev oi (j>povovvTis ti . . . dWd, Trepl bfi6\oyovix€vq% dvoLas ovdiv Av
Kaivbv \iyoiTO,

THE KNIGHTS 69

words, did he wish to portray democracy as condemned by its
very nature to wrong-doing, or did he strive to reform the
Athenian people by pointing out to them the faults, not of
their constitution, but of their current policies, and by inspir-
ing them with disgust for the men who enjoyed their
confidence ?

HI

"We know the general outline of the plot. A Paphlagonian
slave, a rascally and vulgar fellow, recently purchased by old
Demos, has become the favorite of his master, owing to his
gift of flattery. He reigns supreme in the house ; everybody
trembles before him. The audience had no difficulty in recog-
nizing Cleon. Two old servants, molested and robbed by this
intruder, plot to put him out. They produce a rival in the
person of a peddling sausage-seller, a rascal without scruples
and up to anything. Prompted by them, this rustic begins by
trying to frighten the Paphlagonian. Denounced by him
before the Senate as a public enemy, he eludes his attack.
Subsequently, when old Demos, attracted by their noisy dis-
pute, looks in upon them, the sausage-seller harangues him
and brings accusations against his favorite. The old man
agrees to judge between them. Then, in his presence, they
vie in eloquence and vie in flattery, in attentions and even in
gifts, during a long series of ever varying scenes, composed in
a spirit of buffoonery. Finally the sausage-seller wins the
day : Demos withdraws his confidence from the Paphlagonian
and bestows it upon the newcomer. This fellow, becoming in
turn undisputed master of the situation, by means of a magic
operation restores the old man to youth, who forswears his
errors and allows him who has thus transformed him to dictate
the principles of his future conduct. The Paphlagonian is driven
off, and condemned to take the tray of his successful rival and
to ply his trade at the city gates, just as the latter used to do.

Accessory to this plot is a chorus which has given the
piece its name, the chorus of the knights ; and towards them
we must now turn our attention.

70 THE KNIGHTS

Is it necessary to accept the view sometimes expressed, that,
on the day of performance, this chorus was actually composed
of young men belonging to the class from which the Athenian
cavalry was recruited ? ^ Why should we assume so strange a
departure from what was customary ? This error arose from a
too literal interpretation of an ancient authority." The chorus,
it is true, represents itself as being a chorus of young knights ;
but all comic choruses similarly lay claim to a character which
is, of course, a pure fiction. For example, are we to believe
that the chorus of the Acharnians was actually made up of
people from Acharnae ? There is not the slightest difference
between the two cases.

Moreover this question is of quite secondary importance for
us. Whatever was the real nature of the members of Aristo-
phanes' chorus at the Lenaean festival of 424, they represented
the young Athenian knights on the stage, and consequently,
as far as the audience was concerned, for whom the dramatic
fiction was created, it was these young knights who appeared
in person to take part in the action.

Now, it is rather hard to believe that the poet would have
dared to give them the part that he made them j)lay, without
having first secured their consent. It was surely an unusual
thing thus to introduce upon the stage, in a more or less grotesque
disguise, the flower of Athenian aristocracy, and particularly in
the military function in which lay their greatest pride. The
Athenian cavalry had at that time probably not been organized
more than about thirty years.^ Enlarged from time to time,
in Aristophanes' day it consisted of a thousand members, who
were recruited from among the young men. It was divided
into two troops, each of five squadrons, commanded by two

^Gilbert, Beitrdge, p. 190; cf. Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1123.

- Knights, Argura. i. : avrol ol 'AdvvaLwv iinrels cvWa^ivres ef xop°^ crx^Mi''"'
Trapa<paivovTai. Argum. ii. : 6 5^ x°P^^ f*^ ■'"<^'' 'ttt^wj' iarlv. Cf. Schol. 1. 247 :
rov x^P°^ ^'"'^ ■'"<*''' '^TTTriuv <7v/j.Tr\7]povn^vov. I do not believe that any of these
passages has the precise meaning attributed to it. Even if it had, that would
establish nothing beyond the antiquity of the misinterpretation.

^ Albert Martin, Les Cavaliers atli6iiiens, Paris, Thorin, 1SS7 ; Helbig, Les
Iinrels atMniens, Paris, Klineksieck, 1902.

THE KNIGHTS 71

hipparchs and ten phylarchs.^ Proud of their horses, of their
arms, of their appearance, these dashing cavahymen liked to
attract attention,.and with their defiling and drilling they added
beauty to the festivals of the city. This brilliant band of — >
youths were the ornament of Athens. Phidias had just /
finished portraying them on the frieze of the Parthenon, which
had been completed shortly before the Peloponnesian war.
Later on, another artist, Xenophon, was to describe them in
his Hi'pimrchus, at the same time teaching them clever evolu-
tions, of a kind to bring out their best points. The common
people liked to make fun of the airs of these young men, of
their vanity and of their affected elegance, but this did not
prevent their admiring them on holidays. Besides, they had
repeatedly distinguished themselves since the beginning of the
war. In 431, at the time of the first invasion by the Pelopon-
nesians, they did their share in harassing the enemy and in
driving them away from the walls of Athens. In 430 Pericles
embarked four hundred of them, a quite novel thing at that
time, and they helped him ravage the coast of Peloponnesus.
Quite recently again, in 425, in the assault made by Nicias on
the territory of Corinth, the two hundred knights who took
part in the expedition had rendered valuable service.' In
brief, they had an excellent reputation in the city at this time,
and they were by nature not inclined to underestimate their
own importance. We have already seen that if Cleon had
had a bone to pick with them, he would probably have been
the worse for it. Their influence must have been felt in the
theatre more than elsewhere, for their families controlled a
large number of dependents in the city itself, and were influ-
ential in the country districts. They themselves were young,
bold and noisy, and were not inclined to hide their feelings, _
nor to allow themselves to be ridiculed without protest.

How, then, could Aristophanes have brought them into con-
tact with his ambitious sausage-seller, had he not had some
sort of assurance that his temerity would be agreeable to them ?
We may assume that at least he acquainted some of them with

^Aristotle, Constitution of AtheTia, 61.
- Thucydides, ii. 22 and 56 ; iv. 42.

72 THE KNIGHTS

his plans, and that they undertook to mform the others and to
guarantee their consent. Even though there may not have been
co-operation, properly speaking, nor authority expressly given,
there certainly was an agreement and even some preliminary
encouragement. This is indeed what the poet intimates quite
plainly in the words he gives to the corypheus, whose function
it is to introduce the chorus to the audience and to recite the
traditional anapaests : " If any comic poet of former times had
tried to force us thus to appear before the audience and make
an address to them, he would not easily have succeeded. But
this poet of ours well deserves that we do something for him,
for he hates those whom we ourselves hate, and he has the
courage to speak the truth. Courageously he assaults the
whirlwind and tornado." ^ Common grievances were thus
loudly proclaimed. There was an alliance between the knights
and the poet against the Paphlagonian, that is Cleon. What
were these grievances ? Was it a question merely of the
quarrels, already referred to, between the demagogue and
certain members of the aristocratic class ? Or does the
chorus here refer also to an obscure accusation which Cleon,
according to a scholiast, launched against the young knights,
charging them with having failed to do their duty as soldiers,
an accusation that has been variously interpreted by modern
scholars?^ Without doubt the chorus had in mind not only all
this, but other more general grievances as well. What people
in all quarters detested in Cleon was his very method of
governing, the influence he exerted upon the people and the
use to which he put that influence. It is known that the
poet Eupolis, who was at that time one of the masters of
comic style, collaborated with Aristophanes, and it is probable
that he wrote a considerable bit of the second parabasis for
him.^ And in this fact we have a clue, added to those which
precede, that brings out the true character of the play. From
these clues we may infer that it was not the audacious attack
of an individual, prepared in solitary meditation. People must

^Knights, 11. 507-511. ^gc^ol Knights, 1. 226.

=» Cratimis, fr. 200, Kock ; Eupolis, f r. 78, Kock (Schol. Clouds, 1. 554) ;
Kirchotf, Hermes, xiii. 1878.

THE KNIGHTS 73

have spoken about it beforehand in the circles where the poet
was sure to meet with the most favor. It may be that
he told them of some of his conceits ; they approved of them
md suggested others to him. In a word, the work took on /
somewhat of the character of a collective manifesto, but still /
remained his own to carry out ; and Aristophanes had reason '
to believe that, in case of danger, he would have vigorous
support. Herein he was rather mistaken, as we shall see
later on. But what influence did this alliance between the
poet and the aristocracy, of whose existence there can really
1)6 no doubt, have upon the composition of the play, and,
above all, on the role alloted to the chorus ? That is quite
a different question.

The more enterprising of the two slaves has just given
the sausage-seller his instructions and has promised him the
support of the thousand knights and of all respectable people.^
Just at this moment Cleon comes out of the house, and
his terrible looks, his thundering voice, his frightful threats,
promptly create consternation among the conspirators. The
only one who remains cool is the slave. He calls his allies,
the knights, to his rescue, and suddenly they come galloping
in furiously. Divided into two squadrons and commanded
by the two hipparchs, Simon and Panaetios, they charge
full tilt into the orchestra and attack the Paphlagonian,
who flees headlong before them.^ His foes are relentless and
chase him from place to place, and, at the same time, heighten
their own excitement by heaping abuse upon him. They
reproach him for his plunderings, his greed, his shameless
extortion in dealing with those who have accounts to render,
and with timid rich people who tremble at the very mention
of a lawsuit. Subsequently, when the sausage-seller is re-
assured and once more takes the leading part, they encourage
him throughout his dispute with his rival, they admire and

^ Knights, 1. 226 : dXX' ehlv 'Itttt^s di/Spes dyaOol x^X'ot
Kal tQv ttoXltuiv ol KoKoi re Kayadoi.

- The action here has been carefully studied and is particularly well explained
in the work of P. Mazon, Essai sur la composition des comedies d' Aristophane,
Paris, Hachette, 1905.

74 THE KNIGHTS

extol his audacity and keep tally of the points in his favor.
They are delighted to see that Cleon has met his master in
impudence. Finally, when the demagogue hurries off to lay
his charges before the Senate, it is the chorus that launches
his adversary on his track and invokes for him the protection
of Zeus Agoraios.

There is no trace of general politics in all this. The knights
do not express a single thought peculiar to a party. Their
remarks are those of a spiteful opposition, exasperated against
an enemy ; they tear him to pieces in their speeches, but their
attacks do not go beyond his person. Not a word about the
serious defects laid at the door of a democratic constitution by
the advocates of an oligarchy.

Does the spirit of caste become more noticeable in the
parabasis ? In the anapaests the knights proclaim their
alliance with the poet, but it is an alliance against a rascal
and nothing more. The strophic songs and the epirrhemes
have quite another character. Here we do find opinions
peculiar to the youthful aristocrats, expressed in various w^ays.
At the start, they invoke Poseidon Hippios, the god who
presides at horse-races, and rejoices when he sees the youthful
drivers of chariots in their brilliant attire. Then they extol
the. virtues of their fathers, the representatives of the old
families, valiant hoplites who have guarded and brought honor
to the city, generals of former days, glorious and unselfish. Like
them, they ask for a little glory only, and, into the bargain,
the right to wear their hair long when once peace has been
made. Their second invocation is addressed to Pallas, and is
made in the name of the entire city. But, in conclusion, they
once more speak of themselves, when they jokingly recall the
exploits of their horses, that is their own exploits. In a word,
this parabasis — and this is true of almost the whole of it — is
certainly that part of the play in which they best appear as a
distinct group and express their own views. These views have
a dashing quality, an unchecked pride and naivete, a bold and
even somewhat haughty frankness which was well suited to
these distinguished young men. Who would have dreamed of
taking offence at them ? Even here their language was in no

THE KNIGHTS 75

sense that of a party ; it was the language of their age, with
a slight touch of impertinence which must have amused the
audience.

One may say that, from this point on, they take no further
active part. They are merely witnesses of the second part of
the play, in which from time to time, in a few words, they
show the same disposition as in the first part, without how-
ever really taking a hand in the action. This is in agreement
with the practice of comedy. It would therefore serve no
purpose to mention, one by one, the short remarks, spoken or
sung, which they intersperse between the scenes. We may,
however, note the scornful criticism which they make of Demos
after the scene of the oracles : " Oh people, it's a fine empire
you've got ; everybody dreads you as though you were a tyrant.
^',;^utyou are too easily led. You like to be flattered and fooled,
t You always turn open-mouthed toward him who happens to
speak, and your mind, though present, journeys afar." ^ One
could, if one chose, recognize here somewhat of the opinion of the
Herodotean Megabyzus and of the pseudo-Xenophon about the
ignorance and thoughtlessness of the people. It is, however,
introduced with an airy and scornful grace which curiously
lessens its import. And, above all, it must not be forgotten
that the Athenian people were accustomed to hear themselves
much more rudely spoken of by their favorite orators.
Pericles did his full share of it, and Cleon himself, nay, Cleon
in particular, seems to have taken a certain pride in repeating
such things with intentional brutality, as he was one of those
who excel in the art of concealing their cowardly complaisance
under the rudeness of their utterances.

The second parabasis (1264-1315) is nothing more than a
series of satirical attacks that have no connection with the
plot, against Ariphrades and Cleonymos, obscure personages,^
and finally against Hyperbolos. This last episode, an amusing

^Knights, 11. 1110- 11 19.

^Cleonymos appears to have been the author of a reform concerning the
tribute to be paid by the allies, which became a law in 426 and resulted in
increasing it [CIA, iv. 1, p. 141, No. 39a; cf. Busolt, Griech. Oesch. iii. 2nd
part, p. 1118).

76 THE KNIGHTS

and fantastic protest by the triremes, young and old, against
the plans for distant expeditions, is the one that tradition
attributes to Eupolis. While singing or reciting the whole of
this parabasis, the chorus in nowise plays the part of a social
group or of a political party.

We must, however, especially note how little importance is
attached to the chorus in the cUnoucmcnt. When Demos,
rejuvenated and transformed by Agoracritos, appears before
the audience in the costume of former times, the knights
enthusiastically greet the resurrection of old Athens ; aside
from this, they take no part whatever in this peaceful revolu-
tion. Agoracritos alone prescribes the rules for Demos' future
conduct; during this time the chorus does not utter a single
word, and this new policy ignores the interest of the class
which they represent. Demos makes no promise that
especially affects them. Of course it may be that, as they
withdrew, they gave vent to their joy in a final song that
has been lost. If this was the case, the whole scene warrants
the conclusion that they merely expressed general views.

And so we see that Aristophanes did represent the knights
as his allies, but solely in his personal fight against Cleon.
As for Agoracritos' political reforms, he wished to have them
instituted apart from the knights — with their approbation, no
doubt, but without their active participation, and in nowise
at their instigation or for their benefit. He introduced the
knights into his play chiefly as elements of glowing life and
humor. They bring with them their passions, their youth,
their lyric note of patriotism or mockery ; but if there is a
political theory, or even the outline of a political theory,
underlying the extravagant inventions of the poet, it is not in
the role of the chorus that we must look for it. This is the
first point that had to be made clear.

IV

Let us now take up the di^amatis personae and attempt to
discover just what they represent.

THE KNIGHTS 77

It can hardly be claimed that the two slaves who concoct
and organize the attack on Cleon typify either a party or a
class of society, or even represent, in the proper sense of the
word, political personages of the day. The names of Demos-
thenes and Nicias, which are given them in the manuscripts,
do not appear in the dialogue. These names were probably
inserted into the list of characters at the beginning of the
play by Alexandrian editors.^ This was done on account of
an allusion in the text to the expedition to Pylus (line 54 ct
seq.). But this allusion would at best warrant us in recogniz-
ing Demosthenes in the first slave ; ' the second slave would
in any event have to remain nameless. In fact, even the first
slave is Demosthenes only for an instant, in which he happens
to be in a similar situation, and by no means throughout his
role. Mere characters of the prologue and necessary adjuncts
to the plot, the two slaves lack all historical individuality.

As for the intrigue that is imputed to them, we find no
trace of it in the occurrences of the time. Cleon had
opponents, but it does not appear that any party put forward, r:4'
or thought of putting forward a rival who was taught to fight|
him with his own weapons.

Still, in the words of these two buffoons are found the only
utterances of the play that can really be characterized as
anti-democractic ; but, as they refer to the sausage-seller
Agoracritos, their import will have to be examined when we
study that character.

Agoracritos is inseparable from the Paphlagonian, namely
Cleon. Together they make an indissoluble group, in which
the poet's thought is really revealed.

This thought is in the main very simple. Cleon, as the
poet conceives, is a man whose power lies solely in anticipating
and satisfying all the desires of the multitude. As soon as
another politician of the same stamp dares to apply the same

^ See argument No. 2 and Dindorf s note in his edition.

- It is worth noticing that it is reproduced in line 742, and that here it no
longer applies to the slave. We must not forget that ancient comedy is the
freest, most extravagant form of composition, and that, in dealing with
an Aristophanes, we must never take things too exactly.

G

78 THE KNIGHTS

system of government with still greater impudence and vulgarity,
that politician is bound to oust Cleon. This is practically
a moral necessity. It was the function of comedy to
translate it into action and to lend it that kind of obviousness,
striking though vulgar, which is peculiar to dramatic demon-
stration. The idea itself is not of Aristophanes' own creating.
There can be no doubt that he repeatedly heard it expressed
in opposition circles. The germ of it is found in the above -
cited passages from pseudo-Xenophon, and it is virtually
formulated in the sentence where Thucydides shows us the
successors of Pericles trying to outdo one another and vying in
favors to the people (ii. 65. 10). Of course, there is a bare
possibility that Thucydides remembered the Knights of Aristo-
phanes when he wrote this passage, but it is much more likely
that he simply recorded the talk of Athenian society shortly
before his exile. But among those who upheld the theory of
oligarchy, this idea was accepted as a law inherent in the very
nature of democracy. Our task is to learn whether Aristo-
phanes thus conceived and presented the case.

We know how the slave reveals to the amazed sausage-seller
his vocation as a statesman : " Yes, it is just the fact that you
are a scoundrel, and that you come from the market, and that
you blush at nothing, that will make a great man of you."
When the rogue, attracted and distrustful at the same time,
seems to hesitate, " Come now," he asks him, " are you per-
chance conscious in your own mind of something honorable ? "
No, nothing of the kind : he is born of parents who belong to
the dregs of the people, and he himself is as ignorant and
vulgar as one could desire, besides being dishonest when
occasion arises — he is the very man that is wanted. " Mark
my words," says his mentor, "nowadays the guiding of the
people is no longer the business of an educated or of a respect-
able man; it rightfully belongs to him who is ignorant and low-
in every way " (ek aimaOrj koi ^SeXvfjov)}

This is certainly a sharp verdict and a severe arraignment.
At the same time, we must recall that the poet here employs
the words of one of his characters to criticise an existing state
^Knights, 11. 180-19.3.

THE KNIGHTS 79

of affairs. He does not, by any means, say that it was always
thus, and that it cannot be corrected so long as the people
remain masters. We must therefore look to the rest of the
play for explanation and elucidation of this initial verdict.

The fight is on between the two rivals. Had the poet clung
to his first notion, Agoracritos would, in due course, have to
appear _tp be worse than Cleon — not only more impudent, more
vulgar, a greater flatterer and a greater hypocrite, but, above
all, more intensely selfish and wicked. Just as Cleon, while
professing to love the people, really loves only himself and
seeks solely his own advantage, so his rival should likewise
strive only to enrich himself, to live luxuriously and merrily
at the expense of his dupe. Indeed, that would be the neces-
sary condition for verifying the law just enunciated. If, on
the contrary, Agoracritos is only apparently ambitious, if for
all his vulgarity he is a respectable man, if he really desires
the welfare of the people, and if he actually succeeds in
correcting their ways, it must follow that the democracy is not
irretrievably doomed to fall through its own defects, and that
itmay after all be reformed. Now, it is this second conception
that prevails in the play, and we have only to inquire to
what extent it may have been influenced either by the style
of comedy, or by the need of dealing gently with the audience.

The first group of scenes, in which the two rivals are at
loggerheads, has only slight interest for us. In them Agora-
critos appears as a rustic, uses Billingsgate with raucous voice,
just as we saw him above. Cleon, on the other hand, is
nothing more than a sort of live scarecrow with a hideous
mask, accustomed to make everybody tremble at his threats.
Each, in turn, defies or even jostles the other, but, apart from
a few scattered allusions, there is no political satire, except in
so far as it lies in the situation itself and in the means of
defence employed by the chief character. His most effective
weapon is denunciation. He_threatens to bring charges
against whoever opposes him ; indeed, it is with an accusation
that this first encounter ends. Cleon, derided and thrashed
by Agoracritos, who is helped by the Knights, hurries to the
hall where the Council meets in order to denounce their plot.

80 THE KNIGHTS

There is no need to delay here in order to give an account
of the meeting of the Council, for in fact satire here ceases
completely and makes way for the play of fancy. At the
outset we do undoubtedly feel that the poet is making fun of
democracy's distrust, when he shows us its senators ever ready
to accredit rumors of conspiracy, and that subsequently he
finds diversion in their fickleness of mind, and in the ingenuous
ease with which they swallow the empty rumors brought by
anybody that happens along. Satire and ridicule, assuredly,
but so airy and so cleverly turned into nonsense, that it is
impossible to take it seriously.

The contest of the two rivals before the populace, which
follows upon these scenes, deserves much closer attention.
This contest is provoked by the Paphlagonian, because he
thinks himself absolute master of the spirit of Demos. He
declares that " he fools him as much as he chooses," and that
"he knows the sops with which he is fed" (11. 713, 715) —
statements by which the poet seems to wish to make clear at
the outset that he means to attack Cleon's craftiness and
mendacity. On the other hand, the sausage-seller, in his
initial profession of faith, forgetting for a moment who he is,
quite clearly gives himself the airs of a representative of the
respectables : " For a long time, 0 people, I have loved you
and wished to do you a good turn, and many others, honor-
able and well-educated people, share my desire. But this
fellow here prevents us. You are like boys who have lovers.
You reject respectable and swell people, but abandon your-
selves to such people as lamp-sellers, cobblers, catgut-stitchers
and tanners" (11. 734-740). It is evident that the poet,
wittingly or unwittingly, betrays himself in this passage. His
stage character for a moment lifts the mask of impudence and
vulgarity under which he has been hiding, and we see who he
really is. In unmasking himself, he also unmasks his rival.
If Agoracritos represents " the respectable people," which
doubtless means the middle class, as distinguished from the
common people, it is clear that this Paphlagonian not only is
Cleon, but that, in a general way, he represents the demagogues
of low birth, or those who act like the populace in order to

THE KNIGHTS 81

rule it. This hint deserves to be borne in mind, but we must
not exaggerate its importance.

Indeed, were we to follow it without reservation we should
be misled at once. The decisive scene — the one in which
Agoracritos denounces Cleon before Demos — does not afford
what might have been expected of it in this particular. We
should think that the enemy of demagogy would here lay bare
the whole policy with which he was wont to charge it. But
this is far from being the case. Agoracritos' attack on Cleon
has not the character of a vigorous and violent demonstration.
It is inconsequential, incoherent and interspersed with inten-
tional absurdities. Far from seeking to bring out the general
facts, it rather avoids them. It takes issue with the man,
with some of his personal doings, with his selfish schemes.
Agoracritos devotes himself chiefly to depriving him of his
seeming good qualities, of his high-sounding titles which make
him popular. He denies the service that Cleon claims to have
done the people, makes every effort to show up the selfish
interest of his whole conduct, even goes so far as to question
his victory at Sphacteria, and, in order to encompass his ruin,
humorously parodies his habitual resort to slanderous insinua-
tion. Can it be said that there is complete absence of general
reflections ? No, there is at least one, which appears toward
the end of the scene, in the passage where Agoracritos com-
pares agitators of Cleon's stripe to fishers of eels : " You do
just what those do who fish for eels. When the water is calm
they catch nothing ; but stir up the mvid and there is a good ;
catch. So you are sure of gain when you stir up the town "
(11. 864-867). This, we must admit, goes beyond Cleon's
person — political methods and a whole class of men are aimed
at in this shaft of satire, chiefly the advocates of war to the
bitter end — and here again it is not Agoracritos that speaks,
but the poet. Still, it is merely a group of men whose names'
might then have been mentioned that the poet has in mind.
Democratic institutions themselves are no more involved here
than before.

And now, what are we to think of the scene of the oracles
and that of the presents ? The former deals in a most

82 THE KNIGHTS

amusing way with one of the intellectual maladies of the time
— the grovelling superstitiousness of the people — as well as with
the cleverness of those who exploited it. The second scene
exhibits, with humorous conceits and in extravagant caricature,
the lawless rivalry of the politicians who at that time fawned
upon the people. Beneath all this tomfoolery, we can clearly
discern the satire — and it is as quick and sharp as it is apt to
provoke laughter. We may even say that it is not without a
certain depth, as, in the second scene, it evidently touches
upon one of the permanent dangers that placed the Athenian
democracy in jeopardy. It is, however, worth noting that
this is one of the dangers that are inherent in every absolute
power. Of course some may think that democracy, when it
entirely lacks the restraint of established customs, is peculiarly
menaced by it. But it cannot be said that this is a necessary
interpretation of Aristophanes' scene. Taken by itself, it is
merely an arraignment of prevailing conditions. On the one
hand, it attacks the unscrupulous politicians who take for their
plan of action, not what they believe is best for the people,
but what they think is most apt to please. On the other
hand, it attacks the excessive ingenuousness of the masses,
who are the dupes of the politicians' empty protestations. Let
the masses become more discerning, and the evil will be cured
by that very fact. This is just what happens at the close of
the play.

Cleon is in fact definitively beaten by his rival. We witness
the crumbling of his power. Is a form of government involved
in his downfall ? Surely the Athenians did not so under-
stand it ; and they were right. Indeed, the Cleon of the
Knights could not in any way be regarded as a typical per-
sonification of the leaders of the Athenian democracy. Though
comedy had violently attacked Pericles during his lifetime,
surely after his death no one could have been induced to recog-
nize him in this hateful and wicked buffoon. The caricature
was really too personal to admit of its being given a general
application. In creating this character, Aristophanes did
not even portray the psychology of an inferior class of
demagogues. At best he pointed out with forceful satire, as

THE KNIGHTS 83

was his wont, some of the most patent and characteristic
features of the part they played. He has shown us their
methods of procedure, their grimaces, their outward appearance,
because, without doing so, he could not have put his Cleon
upon the stage ; but he had not actually studied their souls.
It may be that the nature of comedy at that time did not very
well admit of this kind of study. Yet there are much more
real and human characters than Cleon in plays by the same
poet^ They are those for which he had a certain sympathy,
such as Dicaeopolis, Strepsiades, Lysistrata, Chremylus. Here,
hatred and violent prejudice obscure his vision. His concep-
tion is a personal vengeance. He is neither able nor willing
to see anything but what is hateful in his enemy. His Cleon
is a malevolent force, a " Typho " let loose, to use his own
words, a monstrous composite of vice and impudence, a sort of
mythological monster. He is emphatically not a human being,
and for this very reason he cannot really be the personification
of a class of real men.

His rival is even less so. While Cleon, at least, is the same
from beginning to end of the play, Agoracritos changes inces-
santly, now outdoing Cleon in vulgarity, in impudence and
vileness, but presently appearing as a cautious counsellor, a
sagacious critic, a sincere friend of the people, whom he seeks
to instruct. Are these transformations of his the cover for
the pursuit of some ambitious selfish end ? What, in a word,
is the object of all his efforts ? This is what we must now
discover through a study of the cUnouement and, at the same
time, of the role of Demos, which latter can only be properly
appreciated in the final stage of its development.

Agoracritos has supplanted the Paphlagonian ; Demos gives
him his confidence and puts him in charge of his affairs.
What is the result ?

Had the poet bodily adopted the ideas of the advocates of
the oligarchical theory, and had he developed them dramati-

84 THE KNIGHTS

cally with all their consequences, the rule of Agoracritos would
have had to be worse than that of Cleon. Under his influence
Demos would have become more capricious, more suspicious,
more tyrannical ; in a word, more of a dupe than he was
previously. And in the exodos Agoracritos would have had to
celebrate his ephemeral triumph in a brutal way, even while
he had to fear the new rival who, in turn, was destined by
fate shortly to oust him by the same methods. Thus con-
ceived, the play would have been logical and quite in
conformity with the doctrine of the intransigeant aristocracy.
As a matter of fact it is intentionally illogical, even to the
point of extreme improbability ; and we must seek the reason
for this.

In the course of the play Demos has been depicted in
general outlines. He is an old rustic,^ and such he must be,
for to the poet's mind he stands for a democracy the best part
of which consisted of peasants. But this characteristic, which
reappears at the close of the play, seems to be forgotten in the
course of the action. His slaves tell us that he has a testy
disposition, that he is easily irritated, and somewhat deaf."
But of this side of his nature also we witness no manifestation.
Indeed, his role consists merely in listening to the flattering
remarks that are addressed to him, and in accepting the gifts
that are offered him. When Cleon speaks of him in liis
absence, he treats him as an imbecile.^ In the presence of
those who flatter him he does seem to be credulous to the
point of silliness. True, he himself warns us not to trust
appearances. He says that his outward demeanor hides a
very deliberate policy. " I intentionally play the fool ; I
delight in feasting every day, and that is why I like to
nourish a statesman who is a thief ; when he is satiated, I
catch him and crush him." * So this simpleton is in reality a
slyboots ; at least he persuades himself that he is. But his
cleverness is short-sighted, for it does not look beyond an

^ Knights, 1. 41 : dypoiKos opyfiv.

^Knights, 1. 41 : d/cpdxoXos, SvctkoXov yepbvnov, virbKWcpov .
^Knights, 1. 396 : /cat rh tov binj-ov irpdcrbiwov fxaKKoa Kadi^p.ei>ov.
* Knights, \l 1123-1130.

THE KNIGHTS 85

immediate advantage, which in the long run is to be his
perdition. The design he boasts of is not only immoral, but
also absurd, based on a false conception of his own real
interests, and this is shown by the transformation he under-
goes at the close of the play.

Eejuvenated by the magical operation of Agoracritos, he
appears handsome and brilliant in the costume of former days,
such as he was at the time of Aristides and Miltiades.^ Thus
transformed, he is ashamed of his former self. He cannot
understand that he should have allowed himself to be fooled
by those who flattered him. How then can we take seriously
the clever design of which he boasted before ? He recognizes
that he had lost his senses, and he blushes at his mistakes.^
When he puts himself into the hands of his benefactor,
Agoracritos, for the future, he commits the management of
his affairs not to a shameless politician, but to a wise and
disinterested reformer, who is to assure his glory and make
him happy.

If this outcome expresses the real thought of Aristophanes,
it is clear that this thought is quite different from the
intransigeant theory with which it seemed to be mingled at
the outset. We have seen that the doctrinaire supporters of
oligarchy like pseudo-Xenophon, thought that the Athenian
democracy could not be reformed, that it was even destined by
its very nature more and more to carry its principles to
extremes ; and at first it seemed as though the poet had appro-
priated this idea, when he created the character of Agoracritos.
But behold, his character was transformed in its making — his
victory, by whatever means secured, had for its immediate
result that the democracy, which he had reformed, was entirely
changed, and that it mapped out a new destiny for itself. Our
entire understanding of Aristophanes' political views depends
upon the importance we attach to this denouement.

Is not the temptation great, at first blush, to consider this
as a mere bit of cleverness on the part of the poet, who was,
above all, anxious to assure the success of his play ? One thing

^ Knujhts, 1. 1325 : Or6s Trep' 'ApiiTTfi5r] irpoTepov Kal MtXTidSj; ^vvecrlrei.
-Knights, 11. 1349, 1354 : Xic-xyvofxai tol rais irporepov a/xapTiai^.

86 THE KNIGHTS

is certain : if Agoracritos were what he ought to be, the satire
would be much more stinging. Can it be maintained that even
in this form it would not have been acceptable to the Athenian
audience ? I do not think so. There was a way for a poet
of Aristophanes' ingenuity so to arrange matters that the
people would have been amused at this fight to the finish
between two equally ambitious rascals. The general thought,
obscured by the uproar of a humorous plot, would only have
been revealed to a few thoughtful minds, on the day after the
victory. In fact, however, the general structure of the play
which we are considering, the very details of the closing scene,
and finally such other knowledge as we have about Aristo-
phanes— all, in a word, must lead us to believe that its
(Unouement is really a true expression of his belief.

If he had regarded the transformation of Demos merely as
a concession to his audience, it ought to have been presented
as a humorous fancy, without any relation to the events of the
day. Instead of this, we see that it leads to a perfectly
concise programme of reforms. Agoracritos virtually subjects
his reclaimed master to an examination in which he pre-
scribes his future conduct for him by indirection. " ' What
will you do if some accuser urges you to sentence a defendant
on the pretext that lawsuits and sentences are your chief
means of livelihood?' 'I shall hurl him into the abyss.' -^ 'And
what other policies will you pursue?' 'I shall give the rowers
on our triremes their exact wages, instead of wasting the
treasury's money in useless expenses. I shall oblige everybody
to serve regularly in the army, not allowing people to escape
through intrigue or favor. I shall expel from the Agora the
young chaps who indulge in subtle talk, and I shall force them
to go ahunting.' " Thereupon Agoracritos assures Demos of a
truce of thirty years, and he takes him out to the country,
there quietly to enjoy the peace which has thus been restored.'

Careful consideration will show us that here we have, under
the guise of more or less sketchy and comical suggestions, the

^ Bdpa^/jof , the chasm in the ground behind the Acropolis, into which the
corpses of criminals, convicted on a capital charge, were thrown.
"Knights, 11. 1340-1395.

THE KNIGHTS 87

outline of a policy, capable of immediate application, which
may be formulated as follows : make peace with Lacedaemonia,
reform the education of the young people by taking them out
of the schools of the sophists, diminish the importance of
oratory by reducing the number of lawsuits, above all stop
giving a livelihood to several thousand useless judges ; and to
this end send the people back to the country, let them once
more take up their work, their habits, their peaceful, regular
life : in a word, remove them from the baneful influence of
the city and from the domination of the politicians.^

Let us now compare this policy with that of the men of
411, as we know it from trustworthy documents.^ Though
the two policies may be similar in some particulars, the
differences are very much more striking. The chief object of
the latter was to shift the centre of gravity of the state and to
change the character of the body of the citizens — a real poli-
tical revolution. The poet aims solely at moral reform. Demos
remains himself, or rather he returns to his former self. He
needs only open his eyes and allow himself to be enlightened
by a good adviser, and regain his strength in a healthy and
laborious life in the country. The main cause of his temporary
perversion lies not in his own nature, but rather in an initial
mistake, a silly and misplaced trustfulness which is itself the
result of the confusion caused by the war. Here again we
meet the fundamental idea of the Acharnians. At heart,
Aristophanes is always in sympathy with Dicaeopolis, and he
does not dream of robbing him of his rights. But he is not
willing that Dicaeopolis should forget his country home and
come to live on the Pnyx or in the law-courts. All the
trouble appears to him to come from this fatal change of
habits, and Cleon, the hateful Cleon, is at once its product and
its cause.

This, I believe, is the exact thought of the poet. When we

^ Aristotle, Polit. iv. 62 : "Orav jxiv ovv rb yeupyiKbv Kal rb KeKTrjuivov /xerplav
ovaiav Kvpiov ^ rrji ■jroKireias, TroXtreiJovTai /card j'6^ioi'S. ix°^'^'- 7"P ipya^bfiefoi. j^TJv,
ov dvvavTai. Si (rxoXdfeiv, (jcrre rbv vbnov i-m<TTr]cravTei iKKXrjcnd^ovffi ras dvajKalai
eKKKTjaia^.

2 Especially through Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, ce. xxix. and xxx.

88 THE KNIGHTS

free it from all extraneous matter, it becomes clear that
although in the various stages of its development it may have
reflected some of the ideas of the aristocratic opposition, it is
by no means an exact rendering of it, and that it did not have
the same objects in view. The Athenians made no mistake
about it. The judges awarded the first prize in the competi-
tion to Aristophanes. After the foregoing explanations, that is
not at all surprising. His play, variously interpreted by the
several parties, could, in its general tendency, meet with the
approval of a large majority. Even those who recognized
Cleon as their leader, and who were not inclined to desert him,
did not think so well of his character as to take offence at
seeing him thus publicly chastised. Indeed, they probably
greatly enjoyed watching the maltreatment of this vulgar
and imperious man, who had imposed himself upon them,
but to whom, after all, they were much pleased to give
occasional evidence of their independence.^ It is possible that
the granting of the prize to Aristophanes gave them a twofold
satisfaction: that of rewarding the gifted poet and of humilating
a disagreeable master.

To-day we interpret matters rather differently. All that
was of immediate interest at the time of the performance has
lost its importance for us. Many personal allusions either
escape us or are hardly noticed. On the other hand, we
unwittingly exaggerate the general features which crop up
here and there. And perhaps we are right in doing so, for
nothing can prevent enduring works from manifesting in an
ever-growing degree what is most enduring in them. But
when the problem is to gain an exact understanding of the
poet's intentions, and to set his work in its former surround-
ings and time, there is certainly no tendency that needs to be
more guarded against than this.

^ Pseudo-Xenophon, Polity of the Athenians, c. xviii.

CHAPTEE III

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS
THE PEACE

What did Cleon do when he was thus derided ? It is very
probable, if not certain, that he attempted to take revenge on
the poet by making a false accusation against him. The most
important anonymous biography of Aristophanes informs us
that Cleon brous-ht a suit at law against him for fraudulent use
of the title citizen (ypacpr] ^ewa?),^ but through an evident
error, as we have seen above, it confuses this accusation with
the denunciation before the Senate which followed the produc-
tion of the Babylonians. In fact, it is impossible that the
accusation should have been made earlier than 424, for,
though the poet recounts at length Cleon's hostile actions, he
makes no reference to it whatever either in the Acliarnians
or in the Knights. On the contrary, there is every reason to
believe that it must have followed close upon the success of
the latter play.^

Without exaggerating the influence of comedy upon public
opinion, we must recognize that a work of so much importance,
performed before the entire people, was not an indifferent
matter. Not only must Cleon have been humiliated and made
furious by it, but he may have feared a weakening of his

^Proleg. Didot, xi. ; reproduced in No. xii., which gives an abridgment of
the above, but with the difference that No. xii. puts this accusation after the
performance of the Knights ; cf. Schol. Acharn. 1. 378.

* Gilbert, Beiirdye, pp. 193-4.

90 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

authority by so audacious and well-directed an attack. On
the other hand, it was impossible for him to resort once more
to a denunciation before the Senate. The first had been
unsuccessful ; this one would have been even surer to
fail. It was an easy matter for the poet to show, book in
hand, that Cleon was the sole object of his attacks. The
irritated politician resorted to a subterfuge. He brought a
charge against Aristophanes of having illegally used the title
citizen.

Nothing was more dangerous than such an accusation, for,
on the one hand, Athenian citizens, and especially the poorest
among them, those who constituted the majority in the law-
courts and lived at the expense of the republic, were extremely
jealous of their privileges. They dreaded the intruders who
had a share in all sorts of salaries. On the other hand, it was
always rather difficult to prove one's right to the possession of
this enviable title.^ And when the accuser enjoyed good
standing in the law-courts, when he had complaisant witnesses
at his disposal, and was sufficiently powerful to intimidate
others, when, in fine, he knew how to arrange matters cleverly
and to draw up a captious brief, the best-established titles
might appear weak. As has already been stated, we do not
know how valid Aristophanes' title was. There is no room
for doubt that he enjoyed the rank of citizen, and of this
Cleon's charge is an unimpeachable proof, as it sought to
deprive him of it. But was he quite sure of establishing
its entire validity in the face of a very exacting law and of a
very distrustful tribunal ? Of this we may have our doubts.

The only evidence that we have in this matter is derived

1 The legal requirement for citizenship was that a man should be the legiti-
mate son of an Athenian citizen and an Athenian woman, and have been
inscribed at the age of eighteen on the register of a deme and of a phratry ;
or else have established a valid claim to a regular naturalization. But the
prosecution could maintain that the registration had been wrongfully secured,
that the father or the mother was not really an Athenian, or that the
defendant was not born in wedlock. As all this had to be proved by the
testimony of witnesses and this testimony could always be contested, and
as it brought up questions of evidence, there was ample room for sharp
practice.

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 91

from a passage in the Wasi)s, which is far from clear. In
that play, performed two years after the Knights, in 422,
Aristophanes lets his Coryphaeus say : " There are those who
say that I came to terms with Cleon when he attacked me so
furiously and harried me and stung me with his calumnies.
And while he flayed me, the outsiders looked on and laughed
when they heard me cry out lustily. They were quite,
indifferent to me, curious only to see whether I would sayj
something clever when squeezed and pressed. I noticed this,
and did play the ape a little hit. Thus, then, the vine-prop :
proved unfaithful to the vine." ^

Let us examine this evidence more closely. There is no
room for doubt that at a particular moment there was
semblance of a truce between Aristophanes and Cleon. This
truce cannot have existed previous to the Knights ; that much
is clear from the account above given and from the spirit of
the play itself. So it must have been after the year 424.
And finally, as we have seen, it was forced upon the poet
through fear, when he had been left in the lurch by those on
whom doubtless he had relied. We can accordingly surmise
with fair accuracy what must have happened.

Accused by Cleon of having usurped the title citizen, Aris-
tophanes did not feel strong enough for a successful defence.
His friends, the young knights, were either powerless to help
him or did not concern themselves about the danger he was
in. The populace, frivolous as ever, enjoyed seeing the fearless
satirist tremble, who ordinarily made others tremble, and did
not choose to regard him otherwise than as a buffoon, who was
obliged to get out of a scrape by aid of jokes. The danger
was grave. Had he been condemned, Aristophanes would
probably have been subjected to a ruinous fine, expelled from
the city, and thus deprived of the right further to occupy
himself with public affairs. His prospects as a poet would
have been ruined. To what means did he resort to save
himself ? His own testimony proves beyond doubt that Cleon
withdrew his charge, but that he withdrew it only after an
apparent settlement had been reached, which, in any case,

1 Wasps, 11. 1284-1291.

92 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

could not fail to be very disagreeable to Aristophanes. He
found himself obliged to conciliate, by hook or by crook, the
man whom he had cruelly offended. Apparently he could not
do so without disavowing his intentions, and without, at the
same time, treating his own play as a mere piece of buffoonery ;
and besides, he probably had to agree not to publish it, and to
promise that henceforward he would practise more restraint
After all, it may be that Cleon too was not entirely sure of his
accusation ; at all events, he saw a real advantage to himself
in this submission of his adversary, who thereby himself
destroyed the effect of his comedy — an advantage he would
not have secured, had he succeeded in depriving him of the
title of citizen. This is no doubt the reason why he withdrew
his charge, after having thoroughly frightened Aristophanes, and
after having exulted in his humiliation. It may be regarded
as certain that the case was not brought to trial, and that
Aristophanes was not deprived of the title of citizen.^

^ A contrary opinion is maintained by M. van Leeuwen, De Arisfophane
peregrmo, Mnemosyne, 1888 ; cf. edition of the Wasps, Proleg. pp. xii.
and xxiii. It is based on appearances merely. We do know from
precise evidence that several of Aristophanes' plays were performed under
borrowed names, but we have no warrant whatever for concluding from this
circumstance that he was not entitled to have them played under his own
name, because he was a foreigner. In the first place, it is by no means sure
that a foreigner did not enjoy the privilege of having comedies performed
under his own name ; and then, we find poets, who were indisputably
Athenians, using borrowed names, just as Aristophanes did. In the year 420
Eupolis had his Autolycos performed as the work of Demostratos (Athenaeus,
V. 216 D). This custom maj' be explained by many very simple reasons,
which we cannot enlarge upon here, and which must have varied according to
the circumstances. As for the other alleged evidence, it has not the meaning
that is arbitrarily imputed to it. Moreover, there can be no doubt that if
Aristophanes had been deprived of the title citizen, after having once borne
it, his rivals and enemies would not have been satisfied to inform us of
that fact in obscure allusions. They would have shouted it from the
housetops, and the Alexandrian scholars would not have remained ignorant
of it. This hypothesis is impossible in itself, and, besides, it is formally
contradicted by the passage in the Wasps, which is our most trustworthy
document in this case.

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 93

^' At about the same time, in April, 424, Cleon was chosen
"general.^ There is no better proof that the people were far
from being guided by the same opinions in the theatre and at
the elections.

This election was another triumph for Cleon. Aristophanes
could not refrain from showing his annoyance at it. At the
close of the year 424 his comedy, the Clouds, was written,
which seemed to give evidence of his intention temporarily to
hold aloof from politics ; in it there was no mention of the war
nor of the statesmen of the day. But at the last moment, no
doubt, just as the comedy was about to be performed, that is
shortly before the Dionysia of 423, he inserted into the parabasis
(1. 581 et seq.) a trenchant allusion to Cleon's election and an
appeal to the people to get rid of this " robber," as quickly as
possible, by putting his neck in the pillory. He was evidently
aware that the danger was over. By withdrawing his charge,
Cleon had thrown away his weapons. Besides, being satisfied
for the moment with his success, and being busy with quite
another matter, he could give but little attention to a sort of
insult which had long since lost its sting, because it was so
freely used.

Apart from this isolated attack, the Clouds contains no trace
of political satire.^ Can we be sure, however, that, while
writing this play, the author kept clear of party manoeuvres ?
At any rate this question deserves to be examined.

The substance of the plot is, as we know, a lively attack on
Socrates. In it we see a peasant, the worthy Strepsiades,
who has run into debt through the fault of his wife and his
son. Hard pressed by his creditors, he appeals to the philo-

' Clouds, 1. 581 et seq. and the note of J, van Leeuwen. Cf. Busolt, Griech.
Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1124.

-Siivem's opinion {Uber Aristophanes Wolken, p. 33 et seq.), followed by
Gilbert (Beitrdrje, p. 218), that Pheidippides represents Alcibiades, ought, I
think, to be entirely discarded, notwithstanding the reference contained in the
second argument. There is no definite allusion to lend it the slightest
semblance of probability.

H

94 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

sopher, as to the possessor of a wonderful secret, thanks to
which one may be relieved of paying one's debts. Socrates,
the atheist and sophist, in a trice upsets all the good fellow's
moral ideas and religious convictions. But as he is too thick-
headed to learn the arts of quibbling himself, he sends his
son Pheidippides to school in his stead. The new pupil is too
highly gifted, and promptly becomes an impudent boaster and
a rebellious son. The father, enlightened at last, sets fire to
the school.

The general thought which stands out from this plot is very
clear. The poet wished to show how the Athenian character,
simple and honest under the influence of tradition, might be
changed and even depraved by philosophy and rhetoric. This
character he finds here, as elsewhere, in an inhabitant of the
country. Strepsiades had remained an honest man, as long as
he lived in the fields, on his little farm. In those days he
lived happily and even prosperously in his small way, without
worries and without ambition, just as his fathers had lived.
His first misfortune was an ill-assorted marriage which obliged
him to live in the city for the greater part of his time. By
this he has jeopardized his fortune and contracted debts, and
so become subject to the temptations of sopliistry, which
corrupts him at least temporarily. And though its fatal
influence does not last with the father, whose better nature
promptly gains the upper hand, there is every reason to believe
that it will endure with the son, of whom it makes a perfect
rascal.

This is about the same idea that had inspired the poet's first
play, the Banqueters, only he seems here to have embodied it
in a stronger plot, and so to have given it greater importance.
Was it of aristocratic origin ? A certain number of old families,
who clung to the past, must certainly have been in favor of
it since the middle of the century. But why should not the
rural democracy, very tenacious, as it was, of its moral and
religious convictions, and rather uncharitable toward every-
thing that came from elsewhere, have been equally in favor of
it ? A-t all events, in Aristophanes' day the militant aristo-
cracy were far from accepting it ; on the contrary, they were,

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 95

without doubt, the strongest supporters of sophistry. It was -|-

they who welcomed the sophists, who paid for their teacliing,

who supplied them with the patronage they needed. Their

leading theorists, men like Antiphon, Theramenes, and Critias,

were among those who were attracted by the new culture.

It was among the upper classes that the adepts in rhetoric

were chiefly to be found, as well as the great wits and the

dialecticians who inquired into the why and wherefore of things,

at the risk of overthrowing and destroying religious and social

beliefs. The disciples of Socrates were regarded as enemies of

democracy.^ Several of them belonged by birth to the best

families of Athens, and so it may be regarded as quite certain

that when Aristophanes wrote his Clouds, he did not make \^\^,.^..f,^y,

himself the mouthpiece of those whom he had taken as allies,

the year before, in the Knights.

In his play, it is true, Aristophanes has in no way brought
out, or even indicated, this aristocratic side of sophistry in
general, and in the Socratic school in particular. It is hard to
say whether he would have found any advantage in doing so,
for, while he might have flattered certain popular feelings, he
would have run the risk of offending some of his friends. But,
in fact, there is no evidence that he had a very clear appre-
ciation of this phase of sophistry. It admitted many fine
distinctions, which a contemporary would apprehend only with
ditiiculty.

Though sophistical teachings, in the proper sense of the
word, like those of Protagoras, Prodicus, Gorgias, and a few
others, found favor chiefly among the aristocracy, it must be
admitted that they tended directly to ruin the principles with-
I'Ut which it could not exist. The influence of an aristocracy
necessarily depends upon an instinctive respect for tradition.
Whatever weakens this respect is a direct menace to it — a very
evident truth to our minds, of which, however, the ambitious
uligarchs of the fifth century do not seem to have had the
slightest conception. They did perceive that dialectics and
rhetoric afforded them effective means of persuasion in the

1 Plato, Apology, c. x. and especially e. xxi. . . . tovtuv . . . , oOs oi dia^dX-
Xoi'Tes /j,€ (pacLv ifioiis /MadrjTas elvai.

96 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

law-courts and political gatherings. That sufficed to delude
them. Engrossed in their immediate success, they did not
dream of the latent influence which the new rationalism could
not fail to exert on the mentality of the people, to the detri-
ment of their own former social standing. Besides, they were
themselves saturated with the new philosophy. They were
utilitarians and positivists in their way of thinking, and had
lost faith in their hereditary role and in all that could serve to
ennoble it. The majority of them regarded their political
power as an individual satisfaction, as a means of enjoyment,
and not as a conservative social force, transmitted from genera-
tion to generation, for the common weal of the city. Had the
poet really cared for the interests of the aristocracy, so far as
they were connected with the interests of society, or had any
of his patrons made them clear to him, he ought to have tried
to open the eyes of his fellow-citizens to this serious and really
fatal error. And then he would have had to represent, not a
good fellow from the country, as the victim of the sophists, but
rather the descendant of some great family, as seduced by
them, and undermining the moral inheritance of his race
through selfish ambition. Such was indeed the most serious
and portentous social phenomenon that could attract the atten-
tion of an observer at that time. Aristophanes does not seem
to have had an inkling of it, and if some of those with whom
he associated saw it or suspected it, he did not, in any sense,
constitute himself their spokesman.

As for Socrates, if Aristophanes had known him well, and
if he had been devoted to the interests of the aristocracy,
everybody agrees to-day that, instead of combating him, he
ought to have considered him his strongest ally. In a society
which, more and more, felt the need of reasoning, Socrates'
task consisted in endeavoring to re-establish by logic what
logic had first upset — namely, precisely that which the comedy
defended. This task Aristophanes misunderstood completely.

But we must observe that this misunderstanding was
certainly not due to his aristocratic surroundings, which have
sometimes been thought to have had a strong influence upon
him. The prejudices which appear in his comedy must have

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 97

prevailed mucii more among the common people than, among
the intellectual elite of Athenian society. Of course, it is
possible that in those days the aristocratic tendencies of
Socrates' ideas were not so clearly discerned as at a somewhat
later time, when, among many others, he won over Xenophon
and the sons of Ariston. The philosopher himself, sprung
from the people, whose manners and habits he pretended to
retain, probably did not, at that time, or possibly at any time,
think that he was an opponent, of democracy. But, whatever
he may have thought about it, he was" such, on account of his
profound way of thinking, which considered capacity as the
condition of power, and recognized no right that was not
accompanied by the ability necessary for its exercise. He
made no attempt to disguise this tendency in his talks,^ and it
had no small share in giving rise to opinions unfavorable to
him. He must have had enemies in every class of society,
but it was certainly among the people that he called forth
most distrust and hostility. His trial clearly showed this, and
nothing was really more natural.

Let me recall his conversation with Charmides in Xeno-
phon's Memorabilia. The noble and wealthy Charmides keeps
aloof from public affairs, owing to an unconquerable sense of
shyness. What does Socrates do in his attempt to reassure
him and to encourage him to take a more active part ? He
shows him what the Athenian people are : a mass of artisans,
masons, cobblers and fullers, ignorant and vulgar. Should
such judges frighten an educated man ? The theme is appro-
priate to the circumstances, but it is not an accidental one ; in
it Socrates expresses his inmost conviction — to his mind
proper conduct was always conditioned on knowledge, and he
spent his life in making people see that they did not under-
stand the A B C of things in which they presumed to interfere.^

At best, only cultivated minds could comprehend this, and
there is much evidence to show that the most intelligent men

1 Plato, Apology, c. xviii. p. 30 e.

2 Plato, Apology, cc. vi.-viii. The last chapter shows that Socrates, after
having made famous statesmen, poets, or artists recognize their ignorance,
did not meet with less infatuation or presumptuous folly among the artisans.

98 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

came back to him, and became subject to his influence, after
having at first been annoyed by his teachings. In spite of
their vexation, the lofty quality of his intellectual and moral
nature could not entirely escape them, and in the circles in
which a degree of mental activity prevailed, a very strong
recognition of his superiority became general. But among the
common people nothing of the kind took place. To them his
curious appearance, his peculiar manners, his ironical and
indiscreet questions, and finally, his offensive candor, must
have made him appear like an ill-natured fanatic. People
naturally classed him with the sophists, because, like them, he
/busied himself with subtle matters and, like them, discussed
/all sorts of subjects. They credited him with ideas that were
1 vaguely attributed to all of them indiscriminately, made him
I out an atheist and a dangerous dialectician, because he thought
' he had a right to subject all beliefs and all doubts to the
closest scrutiny ; and they, no doubt, hated him much more
than other philosophers just because he took issue with every-
body, instead of confining himself to a circle of chosen disciples.
It is probable that Aristophanes adopted this popular
opinion, and that he constructed the character in his play
according to it. If he was the interpreter of borrowed views
when he constructed it as he did, he certainly borrowed them
rather from the prejudices of the democracy than from those
of the aristocracy. It is most likely, however, that he asked
nobody for inspiration. Socrates must have been antipathetic
to him. The philosopher did not refuse to join in playful
conversation, but he had a thinker's contempt for whatever
seemed to him like buffoonery. Xenophon gives us proof of
this in his Symposium. It is more than likely that in this regard
he made no distinction between legitimate comedy and the
jests of professional buffoons.l Everything in this strange
style must have offended him — the vulgar caricatures, the lack
of dignity, the unfair severity of the satire ; and he was not
the man to disguise his thoughts. Of course, the fiction of
Plato's Symposium does not suflftce to establish that Aristophanes
ever met Socrates, nor that he had direct dealings with him.
It must, however, be admitted that this is, to say the least.

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 99

very probable. At all events, the philosopher's opinions had
only to be reported to the poet in order to call forth a certain
animosity against him. And how could they have failed to
be reported in a society of idlers who spent their time in
chatting ? But these personal grievances, if they existed at
all, grew to be of such importance, merely because they coin-
cided with Aristophanes' more general and profounder views,
upon which they acted like leaven.

The poet hated the very name of philosophy, and thought
it detestable. He thought that it not only cast a gloom
over happy and energetic Athens, but also perverted it.
Through it the young people grew morose and pale, studied
a thousand useless things, instead of gaily taking part in active
life. Through it, furthermore, they learned to doubt or to
abjure the traditional principles of life, and became babblers
and dialecticians. It seemed to him that the very safeguards
of domestic and public morality were being lost, little by
little, in this disquieting transformation. Of course there is
no use in demonstrating here what elements of exaggeration
there were in these views, and, above all, how they erred in
failing to take into account the most apparent demands of the
changes which were taking place at that period. But, on
the other hand, it would be very thoughtless not to recognize
the amount of correct observation and of truth that they
contained, Aristophanes felt that he was witnessing a pro-j
found crisis. His mind was neither broad enough non
deliberate enough to in(j[uire whether it was inevitable. He
did see that it was dangerous for Athens, that it would t
probably result in impairing her virtue, in the broadest sense \
of the word ; and one can hardly say that he was mistaken.

The Clouds was not a success,^ and at this Aristophanes
was both surprised and hurt. It seemed to hun, and not
without reason, that he had never written anything better;
and it would certainly have been difhcult to clothe so serious
a thought in a series of more amusing conceits. Regarded as
a work of art, his play gave evidence of a really new species of
composition. In its fundamental idea it touched upon the

^ Argument v.

100 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

most important question of the time. He remodelled his play,
more or less completely, with the intention of producing it
once more. This is shown by the first part of the existing
parabasis, which was written with a view to this second
performance.^ This performance seems not to have taken
place ; but the poet, no doubt, persisted in his view, and
posterity has agreed with him.

What was the cause of this failure ? One would be rather
simple-minded to seek it, as some have done, in a sense of
justice on the part of the Athenian people, who were disgusted
by the way in which the poet treated Socrates. Plato's
Apology would prove, if there were need, that this was not
the case. It declares formally that Aristophanes' comedy
contributed to Socrates' unpopularity, and this obliges us to
believe that it did not call forth any protest of the sort
mentioned from the people. We may even infer from this
evidence that the comedy produced its effect, slowly, but
surely. It is, therefore, probable that it was published, and
that, in default of an audience, it^found many readers. More-
over, the silence of the scholiasts does not prevent us from
assuming that it may have had a second performance, either
at Piraeus, or in the suburbs of the city, or on the rustic stage
of some deme. Such a performance would not leave any trace
in literary history. However this may be, the fact of his
failure in the official competition of 423 stands on record;
but it can be explained only on purely literary grounds.
Accustomed as we are to legitimate comedy, Aristophanes'
play appears very amusing to us ; and so it is when read.
The Athenian audience must have thought it dreary and
^Vere. The chorus was not at all funny or gay, there was
no absurd dance, no jostling, no extravagant gambols and
contortions. While watching it, the audience had not been
convulsed with that irresistible laughter which seemed to

iThe statements contained in Arguments v. and vii. regarding the re-
modelling of the play have given rise to considerable controversy. See J. van
Leeuwen, ed. of the Clouds, Prolegomena, p. ix, and p. 6 note 2. But nobody
denies, or can deny, that the first part of the parabasis was added subse-
quently.

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 101

them to be the chief essential of a good comedy. The judges
were actuated by the common opinion when they ^jreferred
the Bottle by Cratinus and the Connos by Ameipsias.

ni

The failure of the Clouds probably had much to do with a
renewal of Aristophanes' hostility to Cleon. Hitherto he had
succeeded best in political comedies. He decided to return to
them at whatev^er risk, and he could not return to them
without attacking Cleon directly or indirectly.

It is chiefly Cleon, indeed, among the demagogues that is
again made the butt of his satire in the comedy of the Wasjos,
performed at the Lenaea of the year 422, and consequently
written at the close of the year 423. It is well known that
the play seeks to point out what may be called the corruption
of the judicial system at Athens. The principle itself of this
system is not attacked, but rather the changes in this principle,
wrought by the politicians of the advanced democracy. That
is the reason why the person in whom this corruption is
incarnated is called the "friend of Cleon" (Philocleon), whereas
his son, who wishes to reform him, is called the " enemy of
Cleon " (Bdelycleon).

Here, as before, it behoves us to get a clear view of the
fundamental idea of the play, in order to determine accurately
the nature of Aristophanes' opposition and its relation to the
theories of the time.

We know how far the organization of the Athenian law-courts
in the fifth century conformed to the highest conception of
democracy.^ Every citizen wh(j was at least thirty years of
age was entitled to act as judge, and there were no other
judges, save in exceptional cases. Together they constituted
what was known as the 'BXiala, and in their quality as judges
they were called heliasts. Lots were drawn among the heliasts
to determine which of them were to sit in each court. Thus

1 Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, c. Ixiii. ; Schoeraann-Lipsius, Griech.
AUerthUmer, i. p. 506.

102 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

these courts were actually juries, often very numerous, easily
swayed, as passionate as all assemblies, and entirely lacking in
legal knowledge. The heliasts who were chosen to sit received
compensation from the state, which Cleon had recently caused
to be increased to three obols, in order to make himself
popular^ — surely a moderate sum, but one that probably, at
that time, sufficed to support a family for a day. One can
readily understand that wealthy citizens, men of affairs, active
and busy artisans, little cared to lose their time, listening to
the pettifogging of lawyers, for so meagre a compensation.
But small tradesmen, the poor, the lazy, as well as aged or
idle artisans, there found a very convenient means of earning
a living. And so it was they who eagerly attended the draw-
ing of names, while the others stayed away, thanks to the laxity
of law or custom.

Courts thus constituted could not fail to be permeated with
all the prejudices and all the passions of the lower classes.
They were suspicious and severe toward the rich, tyrannical
toward the allies, ever ready to listen to the denunciator, full
of sympathy for professional accusers who, by increasing the
number of lawsuits, secured the judges an opportunity to sit.
Trials were actually their daily bread, and the demagogues
were well aware of this, and had no greater means of influence
than the frequency with which charges were brought. Kadical
politicians on the Pnyx, they became sycophants in the courts :
these were, in a way, the two phases of one and the same role,
or rather the two halves of one and the same whole.

Such law-courts could not fail to be an object of fear and I
at the same time of ridicule to the citizen of the upper classes. I
When Charmides, in Xenophon's Banquet, congratulates himself
on having become poor, he says that one of the chief advan-
tages he has derived from his ruin is that he is rid of the
sycophants.^ Pear of denunciation must indeed have been a
constant anguish for people who knew what sort of judges
they would have to appear before in case they were accused.
The aristocratic doctrinaire who wrote the treatise on the
Polity of the Athenians, quoted above, has but one sentence
^Gilbert, Beitrdge, p. 187. -Xenophon, Banquet, iv. 30.

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 103

about the courts, but it is a cruel arraignment : " As for the
law-courts, the people bring to them thoughts, not of justice,
but of their personal interests." ^ Such was the accepted
opinion in the circles from which this book issued.

Did this opinion find expression in a programme of reforms ?
There can be no doubt that it did. The doctrine of the
moderate aristocracy, or even of the conservative democracy,
necessarily tended at least toward a modification of the
personnel of the courts. Aristotle suggests, as one means of
escaping the evils that have just been pointed out, a law
obliging every citizen to sit as judge when he is drawn by lot,
and imposing fines proportionate to their fortunes on those
who remain away, with exemption for the poor. In this wise,
he says, the wealthy are forced to sit, while freedom of choice
is given to the poor.^ He also informs us that this was a
provision in the laws of Charondas, so that it went back
beyond the fifth century. No doubt it was known and
admired by those at Athens who desired to reform the
republic ; besides, it could be made to agree perfectly with
the letter, at least, of existing institutions, if not with their
spirit. The oligarchy, properly speaking, went still further.
We do not know precisely what disposition the revolution of
the year 411 made of the courts, but perhaps the most
important principle by which it was inspired was that all
public offices should be without salaries.^ There is every
reason to believe that it did not propose to except the salary
of the judges. A few years later, at all events, the oligar-
chical government of 404, even during the time when it was
relatively moderate, took great care to break the power of the
courts.* "We may be sure that in doing so it merely put into
operation a programme which had long since been elaborated ,
in the hetairies.

Therefore, the question for us to solve is whether this
programme, which had certainly been discussed since 422,

^Ps.-Xenophon, Polity of the Athenians, i. c. xiii.

^Aristotle, Politics, iv. 13. 2, Bergk.

^Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, 29. 5 : ras 5'dpxas d/UiV^ous &pxeiv aTrdaas.

* Ibid. 35. 2 : /cai rb Kvpos 5 rjv iv tois Si/caorats KaTi\v(Tav.

104 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

had any influence on Aristophanes' comedy, and whether he
ought, to a certain extent, to be regarded as the interpreter
of the views of a party, with whom we have already found
him holding relations, but relations of an independent kind.

The prologue of the Wasps shows us the aged Philocleon,
closely watched in his house by his son Bdelycleon and by his
slaves, who wish, at all costs, to prevent him from going to
\sit as a judge. Why do they prevent him ? Solely for his
Igood. His mania for being a judge is characterized as a
"strange malady" (1. 71), which Bdelycleon wishes to cure at
any cost. From the description given us of this malady (11.
87-135), we do indeed recognize that it was real insanity, and
painful at that. Racine has translated a considerable part of
this description in his Plaideurs. Philocleon cannot sleep, or,
when he does succumb to fatigue for a moment, his sleep is
disturbed by dreams that refer to the law-court. This mania
turns into malice — he condemns everybody. At the same
time, it leads him to commit countless extravagances. His
son is sincerely grieved by it, — he has tried to argue with
him, but to no purpose. Then he puts him into the hands of
the Cory ban tes, but still without success. He has made him
lie down in the temple of Asclepius, and this does no good
either. Finally, he has had to lock him up in his house and
carefully close all the doors. Such is the opening scene, and,
as we see, it is not the higher interests of justice that are at
stake ; it is the personal interests of Philocleon, but of Philo-
cleon considered as the representative of a whole class of
Athenians.

We may pass over his attempts to escape ; they are mere
tomfoolery. And now comes the entrance of the chorus.
This chorus consists of aged heliasts, who are on their way to
court before daybreak. Cleon has advised them to bring a
supply of anger because they are to sit in judgment on the
general Laches, whom he has accused of embezzlement and
corruption after his campaign in Sicily (11. 240-245). Evi-
dently the poet is anxious to expose this sort of agreement
or tacit understanding between the demagogues and the
heliasts. He is their purveyor, but they obey him. The

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 105

politician feeds the judges, the judges do the bidding of
the politician.

These heliasts wonder at Philocleon's delay. Is he ill ?
Does he not know that grave matters are to be dealt with ?
While asking one another such questions as these, they get
on as fast as they can ; for if, by chance, the archon fails
to put their names into the ballot box, what are they to live
on ? Philocleon hears them, calls them and explains how and
why he is held captive. And they urge him to escape.
We see him gnawing at the meshes of the net, stretched across
one of his windows ; he slips through the gap. Is he free ?
No, Bdelycleon has heard him. The watchers come running
—the fugitive is seized and beaten. The old men utter cries,
they make threats of informing their protector, Cleon. Bdely-
cleon keeps his temper and implores them to hear his reasons.
At first they refuse to do so, shout and cry tyranny ; then
they calm themselves little by little, and finally permit him to
speak to them.

As may be conjectured, this is the principal scene, or, at
all events, the one that is most important for the argument.
And what precisely is the purpose of this argument ? Before
entering into it, Bdelycleon concisely defines its import.
What he wishes to prove is that his father is mistaken in
thinking that the office of heliast secures him any advantage,
whereas, in fact, it makes him " the slave of the demagogue "
(11. 504-507; 514-517). As before, the selfish interests of
the judge are the real and chief object of the argument, and
yet, back of these interests, still another matter may be dis-
cerned, and this is the question of the independence of justice
and consequently of its value.

Philocleon is the first to speak, and to show all the advan-
tages he owes to the ^Xiala, and naturally enough, the audience
would regard his speech as a very lively and amusing satire
on the Athenian judge. To begin with, this judge is a sort
of king, a king who has, as his courtiers and flatterers, all the
accused, however important they may be. We may point out
that this thought is also met with in the treatise of pseudo-
Xenophon on the Polity of the Athenians, which has been

106 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

repeatedly quoted.^ It is therefore likely that it was current
in the aristocratic circles, from whom Aristophanes may well
have borrowed it. But, at best, it is nothing more than a
mocking characterization of no great consequence. The same
may be said of almost everything that Philocleon says.
He gives us a detailed picture of what may be called the
comedy of the courts — the tears of the defendants, the appeals
of parents and friends, the introduction of small children and
wives, all means by which attempts are made either to soften
the heart of the judge, or to enliven him, or to seduce him.
An actor recites verses, a flute-player plays the flute; the
judge listens, enjoys himself and decides as suits him, for he is
responsible to nobody (1. 587). Moreover, his power extends
beyond the law-court. In the assembly also the politicians
make themselves popular by promising the heliasts more pay
and less work (11. 592-602).

In a word, if this satire, which is so pleasantly hidden
beneath apparent praise, has a serious meaning, it lies in two
things. In the first place, it gives us a clear understanding
of the psychology of the heliast, and so explains with great
spirit and insight why the small tradesmen of Athens found
so much pleasure in acting as judges, and why honest folk as
they were in everyday life, they became thoroughly perverse in
the law-courts. In the second place, it reinforces a suggestion
to which allusion is made above, by showing us the politicians
absorbed in pleasing the judges. Apart from this, there is
only one serious word to be noted, namely the " irresponsible,"
uttered quite casually. Already in the Kidglits the people
had been called a " tyrant," that is to say, an absolute ruler.
The same idea is here applied to the tyKiaia, but with much
less insistence and forcefulness.

When Philocleon has finished his argument, Bdelycleon
replies to him. Aristophanes has given him the task of
thoroughly exposing " the old canker that has taken root in
the republic" (1. 651). It looks as if he wished to refute his
father's brief, point by point; he really does nothing of the

1 Pseudo-Xenophon, Polity of the Athtnians, i. 18. The similaritj' is noticed
in the edition of J. van Leeuwen.

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 107

sort. What is the use of refuting an argument which is, in
itself, the best satire on him who makes it ? What he does
refute is the fundamental error which is at the root of Philo-
cleon's reasoning. The latter has declared that he is convinced
that the practice of justice redounds to his personal benefit.
Bdelycleon shows clearly that it redounds to the benefit of
certain politicians. As public accusers, and owing to their
popularity, the latter make the tributary cities and the most
highly respected citizens in those cities tremble ; for it rests
with them to secure the sentence of whomsoever they desire.
And thus these politicians, being masters of the courts, which
depend on their zeal for their existence, sell their favor, or
else their silence ; and while they get rich by such means, the
small fry, the horde of judges who look to them for their
daily pay, obey them servilely. In theory, the democracy is
sovereign ; in reality, it is in the hands of its masters.

As always in comedy, certain fanciful elements are added
to this forceful and serious argument. Bdelycleon pretends to
accept the principle of the demagogues, namely, that the
money of the tributary cities ought to be used to feed the
sovereign people, which, according to him, has no other
function than to rule and to judge. They proclaim this prin-
ciple when it suits them ; but do they put it into effect when
they have the government in their hands ? A simple calcula-
tion proves that this money, thus used, would suffice to support
twenty thousand Athenian citizens. But the bulk of it does
not reach the people — it remains in the hands of the politicians
and their friends. Fancies aside, Bdelycleon's figuring remains
as an amusing satire at least, well suited by its very absurdity
to expose the lie from which the demagogues draw their
strength.

The rest is known, and we need not recall it in detail here.
The aged heliasts are enlightened by this instructive debate ;
they forswear their errors, that is to say, their confiding
admiration for Cleon and his ilk. Philocleon sees clearly
that his son is right, but in his heart habit is stronger than
reason. He loves to be a judge, he cannot get on without
being a judge.

108 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

In order to satisfy him, a law-court has to be installed in
his house, and a domestic trial has to be held in it. It is the
trial of the dog Labes, so well known to us through Eacine's
imitation of it in his Plaideurs. The historical allusions in the
original text add nothing to the general purpose of the play.
The last act rather disconcerts us. Bdelycleon, who has, no
doubt, become rich by working while his father was acting
as judge, wishes him to live in idleness and pleasure hence-
forth.-^ He takes his father out into society, after having
made a futile attempt to teach him good manners. There the
old maniac gets atrociously drunk and gets into all sorts of
scrapes. We see him come back reeling and singing, chased
by the people whom he has jostled or insulted ; and the play
ends with a grotesque dance, in which he joins some profes-
sional dancers whom he has challenged. At this late day it
seems to us that this transformation did not improve him.
But in the first place, we must, no doubt, take into account
the requirements of the style to which Aristophanes thought
himself obliged to conform — it was necessary to conclude the
play with a show that would amuse the people. And besides,
this ending, with its comic exaggeration, gives us a good picture
of the Athenian people returning to their normal ways.
They were an amiable race, cheerful, of kindly and benevolent
disposition, of easy manners, unschooled by severe discipline,
without harshness — such, in a word, as Thucydides has described
them in the famous speech which he attributes to Pericles ;
and in the play we have seen them unnaturally corrupted by
the influence of the demagogues, when they had once yielded
to the mania of sitting as judges and passing sentence.

In order to appreciate this comedy as a political satire, one
must really pay special attention to the middle part, which, so
to speak, contains its entire lesson. And what is its drift ?
We now see clearly that the poet has no thought whatever of

^ The play does not make it quite clear why Philocleon is poor, while his son
Bdelycleon seems to be very well off. This difference in their state was
necessary for the comedy. The real heliast was poor. On the other hand,
it was necessary that Bdelycleon should not be poor, in order that he
might assure his fatlier of a comfortable livelihood when once he was cured. ^
It is a pity that the play fails to explain how Bdelycleon became wealthy. V)*^ ^

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 109

a thorough-going reform of the judicial system, on the lines of
one of the programmes above stated. There is nothing in his
play to suggest the idea that it would be well to reduce the
number of judges, or to exclude the lower classes from the
courts, or to use coercive measures against those who neglected

\ to appear there. He ridicules the credulous confidence of the

people in their regular leaders and the generally accepted

'notion that their zeal as denunciators was for the public good.

Were we to seek to derive some practical advice to his fellow

citizens from his play, it might, perhaps, be formulated thus :

/" Athenians, you may be sure that you have no real interest

' m this heaping-up of lawsuits instigated by the politicians.

' It is for their own benefit that they bring them and not for
yours. Do not, therefore, encourage their denunciatory zeal
by your propensity to condemn. On the contrary, reduce the
number of lawsuits by discouraging the accusers, and, at the
same time, refuse the support furnished by the judge's pay ;
return to your normal ways of life, to your business and to
your pleasures. This would make Athens more prosperous and
a more agreeable place to live in."

Thus conceived, the comedy of the Wasjjs may be regarded
as the concluding part of a sort of satirical ■ tetralogy, whose
real unity now becomes clear. In 426, in the Babylonians,
Aristophanes had pictured the demagogues oppressing the
allied cities, and making Athens disliked elsewhere. In 425,
in the Acharnians, he did not directly denounce them, but
Pericles, from whom they took their lead, as the real insti-
gator of a fruitless war, that was rending Greece and ruining
Athens, but that was making them rich; in„_424,.Jli-the
Knights, he attacked the very foundation of their power,
namely their flattery, which had become a principle of govern-
ment; and finally in 422, in the Wasps, he exposed one of
their most effective and, at the same time, most dangerous
means of influence — their specious zeal as denunciators, which
tended to corrupt the Athenian character, because it trans-
formed a people, naturally kind-hearted, humane and cheerful,
into a body of suspicious, selfish and ill-natured judges.

Thus, the same spirit animated Aristophanes from beginning

I

no THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

to end ; nowhere did he appear as the enemy of democracy.
No doubt, he had had friendly relations with its opponents,
and had even borrowed some of their ideas, but the funda-
mental tendency of his political views differed essentially
from theirs. They sought to destroy the democracy ; he
appears merely to have sought to forewarn and, if possible, to
reform it.

IV

In the very year in which Aristophanes had produced his
Wasps, and only a few months after its performance, in the
summer of 422, Cleon fell under the walls of Amphipolis in
Thrace.^ His death assured the temporary preponderance of
the moderate peace-party, of which Nicias was then the leader;
and in the following year peace between Athens and Sparta
was finally concluded, after ten years of war.

Aristophanes wrote and produced his comedy entitled The
Peace during the days just preceding the treaty, at a moment
when the outcome of the negotiations was no longer doubtful.^
Thucydides portrays with his usual precision the feelings that
prevailed in Athens during the negotiations : " At that time
the Athenians desired peace (irpo? rh^ eiptjvrjv fioXXov t>)v
yvcofitjv el-^ov), for, after their recent defeat at Delium, and
again at Amphipolis, they no longer had that confidence in
themselves which had previously kept them from accepting all
offers of compromise so long as present success made them
believe in their decided superiority. Besides, they feared lest
their allies, encouraged by their failures, might fall away from
them more and more, and they regretted not having made
a treaty after the expedition to Pylus, when the occasion was
favorable." ^ This analysis is manifestly correct, but it does

1 Thucydides, v. 10.

'^Argument No. 1 merely gives the year. The allusions to political events,
contained in the play, establish its relation to them in point of time.
Peace was declared immediately after the city Dionysia, for it is from this
festival that Thucydides dates back in counting the ten years which the war
lasted, V. 20,

^ Thucydides, v. 14.

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 111

not give us a sufficient idea of the heartfelt delight with which
the rural population of Attica beheld the return of happy and
tranquil days. And this is just what Aristophanes has
pictured with marvelous fidelity. This treaty fulfilled all the
poet's hopes ; nobody had wished for peace more ardently and
more sincerely than he ; nobody could have welcomed it with
sincerer joy. As a consequence his play is noticeable for its
exalted lyrical character. Through it there resounds, as it
were, the triumph of the rural democracy, which was at last
getting what it then longed for above all else.

The plot is altogether allegorical and does not amount to
much. Trygaeus, a vine-dresser and owner of a small farm, is
exasperated by the prolongation of the war, just as Dicaeopolis
had been previously. He scales Olympus on his dung-beetle,
and there, with Hermes as his accomplice, and with the help of
the sturdy peasants who constitute the chorus, he hoists Peace
out of a cave in which war had confined her. Thereupon, when
he has once more put her in possession of her authority, he
descends to earth, bringing with him his amiable companions,
Opora, the goddess of fruits, and Theoria, the goddess of
festivals. Once back in his deme Athmonon, he marries
Opora, and joyfully celebrates his wedding with the help of
the chorus. During these festivities he proudly assumes the
role of the liberator of the demes and of the country folk,
whose victory over the politicians he celebrates.^

From the special point of view of this study, our chief
interest in the exuberant joy of this victory centres about the
retrospective judgment which Aristophanes passes on Cleon
and on the policy of the demagogues.

At the very outset, in the parabasis (1. 749 et seq.) he
proudly recalls the fight he has made against him, brags about
its audaciousness and magnificence, and represents it as an
innovation which transformed comedy. It may be that he

1 Peace, 1. 919 : woWCiv yap vfitv fiftoj,

Tpuyatos 'Ad/j-ovevs iyob,

/cat Tov yewpyiKbv Xewv
'Tirip^o\6v re TraiVas.

112 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

exaggerates his deserts, but not to such an extent as entirely
to pervert the truth of the matter. It is quite certain that
others, before him, had made a fight against the men in ques-
tion, and that they had created political comedy, but the
continuity of his attacks, their variety and their close connection
with one another, and the significance of some of them, had in
fact lent his manner of fighting something unusual and novel.
Cratinus, Hermippus and Telecleides may have hurled some
trenchant shafts at Pericles ; it does not appear, however, that
they attacked the very principle of his government. But, in
his fight against Cleon, Aristophanes had exposed some of the
serious vices of the demagogy of his day.

Of this he was well aware ; and this is why, in the Peace, he
forcefully reminds us of some of the lofty moral considerations
that had made him hate the war. He had considered this war
as anti-Hellenic, as having been begun and prolonged for the
selfish interests of a few men. To his mind, Cleon was the
pestle with which the war brayed the Greek cities in its
mortar.^ And so the restoration of peace becomes a veritable
festival of Hellenic brotherhood and deserves to be celebrated
in hymns of joy.^ "See," exclaims Hermes, "how the reconciled
cities greet one another and how they laugh for joy ! " ^

But there is more to the story. The war had altered the
character of Athens ; when it took the rural democracy from
the farms, it gave them vicious and servile habits. The same
god says : " When the laboring folk had abandoned their
fields and flocked into town, they did not see that they were
being sold for gain. As they no longer had olives to eat, and
as they were fond of figs, they had no choice but to turn to
the orators, who, knowing full well that the poor devils were
powerless as long as they had nothing to eat, kept shouting
and driving Peace away, who nevertheless showed her face

^ Peace, 1. 269 : d7r6XwX' 'Ad-rjvaloLS aXerpl^avos

6 ^vpaoTTiliX-qs, 6s eKVKa tt]v 'EXXdSa.
"^ Tbid. 1. 291 : ws ijSo/j.aL /cat ripiro/xai Kal xo^^pofiat.

vuv etrrlv 7jfj.iv, S)v5p€s"EW7]V€s, KoXdv , . . K.r.i.
'^Ihid. 1. 538 : Wl vvv, Hdpn,

olov Trpos dXXTjXaj XcCKovaiv ol TrdXeis

oiaWayetcFat. Kal yeXwaiv da/nepai.

THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE 113

again and again, because she longed for this land. At the
same time, they harassed those of the allies who were fat and
rich, first accusing one of them and then another of sympathy
with Brasidas. And then you would tear the unlucky one to
pieces, like a pack of hounds, for the city sat pale and terrified,
and eagerly devoured all calumnies that were cast to her.
Then, when the aliens saw what blows the accusers could deal,
they shut their mouths by stuffing them with gold ; and thus
the accusers grew rich, but Greece was on the road to ruin
without your knowing it. Now the man to blame for this
was a tanner." ^

What the god says with trenchant and vigorous eloquence
is confirmed by the chorus of peasants, who explain how peace
has brought them back to their former habits. " I shall no
longer be seen to be an irritable, ill-natured judge ; I shall no
longer seem severe and harsh, as I did formerly ; but you will
see me good-natured and tender-hearted, because I am free
from worry." ^

Nothing could better bring out the true nature of Aristo-
phanes' thought. In Cleon, he had furiously persecuted a
corruptor of Athenian spirit, and he believed, somewhat '
ingenuously perhaps, that, thanks to the peace and to Cleon's
death, it would be restored to its former vigor.

Aristophanes seems to have been appeased as soon as he was
rid of his enemy, as we shall see in the chapters which follow.
[And so we may say that his hostility to Cleon is the
characteristic mark of one period of his life.

During this period he appears violent, bitter, and even
unjust, if one may speak of jvistice with respect to a style of
composition whose very nature tends to distort whatever it
deals with. Engaged in a passionate combat, in which the
most serious moral and political ideas were at stake, he
occasionally sided with the various parties of the opposition
and may have profited by their encouragement ; but it is now
clear, from the foregoing study of the subject, that he never
entered their service, and that he was, in no sense of the
word, a party-man. Two sentiments above all inspired him,

^ Peace, 11. 631-647. ^Ibid. 1. 349.

114 THE CLOUDS. THE WASPS. THE PEACE

both of which had to do with his antecedents and social rank
and very nature — a Hellenic sentiment and an Athenian
sentiment. He could never admit either that the Greeks
should engage in internecine war or that the Athenian people
should allow their kindly, amiable, and sprightly natures to be
spoiled by selfish demagogues. His opposition was not always
loyal, but at bottom it remained sincere and generous, and it
was far-seeing as well. There was no political platform, pro-
perly speaking, back of his plays, but only a few hasty and
incomplete outlines ; as a consequence, we cannot, at this late
day, extract a precise doctrine from them. And yet, beneath
their levity they conceal a sort of general philosophy, which
still retains its value and even its application,^^

CHAPTEK IV

SECOND PEEIOD

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

THE BIRDS, 414. LYSISTRATA AND THESMOPHORIAZUSAE, 411.
THE FROGS, 405.

The chronological continuity of the extant plays of Aristo-
phanes is interrupted after the Peace (421); it begins again
with the Birds (-414), followed by the Lysistrata and the
Thesmoplioriazitsae (411), and then, after an interval of six
years, by the Frogs (405). Together, these four plays make a
second group, quite different from the first, in several respects,
but particularly when regarded from the special point of view
of this study.

Indeed, it appears that between 421 and 415, Aristophanes
experienced a certain change of mind as regards politics.
And first, it must be observed that in his earlier plays
he had exhausted the chief objects of satire that the
Athenian democracy could afford him. There was no longer \

reason why he should devote his attention and his inventive \ aV^^
genius so persistently to ideas of this kind. In the second k^v^v
place, Cleon had fallen in 422. His death had rid the poet »
of a formidable enemy, and had removed from the scene the
man in whom he saw concentrated all the vices and malignant
influences which menaced the city at that time. His mind,

116 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

which was by nature elastic and quick to relax, must have
been somewhat restored to serenity thereby. Indeed, such a
disposition manifests itself in the passage he substituted, pro-
bably in the year 418, for the original anapaests of which the
first part of the parabasis of the Clouds must have consisted,
when it was performed in 42 3. ^ In this passage he declares
that he did not wish to trample upon his enemy's corpse, and
blames his rivals, Eupolis and Hermippus among others, for
the bitterness they show toward Hyperbolus.^ As a contrast
to such vulgar violence, he offers the style of composition
shown in his Clouds, a play for which he seems to show a
deliberate preference, as a type of a comedy that is really
worthy of a thinking public.^
jj. I . Moreover, after Cleon's death, the turbulent democracy did
not again meet with a man who was able to rule them so
completely, through their own passions. We know very little
of the domestic history of Athens between 421 and 414, but
so much at least is clear, that no one was able to lord it over
the assembly. Her foreign policy was, at one time, influenced
by the advocates of peace, and at another, by the instigators
of war and adventure ; it oscillates between Nicias and
Alcibiades ; neither of them succeeds in giving it a firm and
continuous direction. Men of lesser ability, like Hyperbolas,
Theramenes, Demostratus, Androcles, to name only a few of
them, attempt to play an important part and flit about
the rostrum. Intrigue is everywhere rampant, and in this
confusion and excitement, the oligarchy, which perceives the
weakness of the predominant party, and observes its in-

^This passage (11. 518-562), written in Eupolidean measure, clearly reveals
the date of its composition. It contains an allusion (1. 553) to the Maricas of
Eupolis, performed in 421, and another to a play by Hermippus which
followed it (1. 557, eW aSdis), and finally to other and even more recent plays
(1. 558, &\\oL t' Tjd-r) Trdi/res). The passage cannot, therefore, have been written
before 418. On the other hand, it seems to antedate the exile of H}T)erbolus,
of which it makes no mention ; he was exiled in April, 417, at the very latest
(Curtius, Hist. gr. translated into English by Ward (1872), iii. pp. 314-15, and
Busolt, Oriech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1257, note 1).

2 Clouds, 11. 553-559.

Ubid. 11. 560-562.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 117

coherent conduct, gradually regains confidence and matures its
plans.

Indifferent material this for political comedy, which de-,
manded something distinct, vigorous and consistent as the
object of attack. Ordinary occurrences, fluctuating ideas, a|
capricious and dissembling policy, were hardly fit subjects toji
be represented on the comic stage. Spent on such subjects,
dramatic satire must needs lose its genera,l application and its
philosophical value, and become more-^iersonal. Indeed, this
is just what we get a hint of in the altogether too rare
and very incomplete records. Eupolis appears to have been
supreme in this style. His Maricas and his Flatterers, which
were both produced in 421,^ no doubt supplied particularly
startling examples of its furious and ill-natured violence. In
the former of these two plays, by way of scourging the
demagogue Hyperbolus, he brought his mother upon the stage
in the guise of a repulsive, drunken old woman, who danced
the KopSa^ (an indecent dance). In the second play he makes
fun of the private hfe of Callias, the son of Hypponicus, and
takes pleasure in exposing him to the insulting derision of the
people, by exhibiting him surrounded by parasites, li\'ing in
debauchery, and rapidly squandering his patrimony. In the
following year, 42 0,^ he had his Autolysis performed, in which
he attacked one of the distinguished families of Athens, and at
the same time discredited and insulted the young victor of the
Panathenaea of 422, his father Lycon, and his mother Rhodia.^
And finally, his Baptae (Bd-Trraf), which was probably per-
formed in 415,'* seems to have been directed against the
celebration of a strange cult by Alcibiades and his friends.

^ Argument of Aristophanes' Peace and scholia to the Clouds, 1. 552. The
words varepov rpirif) h-ei in this scholium seem to me to be correctly interpreted
by Kock (Fragm. com. gr. i. p. 307): their meaning is "two years later."
Meineke misunderstood them, and Gilbert followed him in his mistake
[Beitrdge, p. 212).

-Athtnaeus, v. 216 d.

^Sehol. to Aristophanes' Lysistrata, 1. 270. Cf. Pauly-Wissowa, "Auto-
lykos," 4, art. by Judeich, who regards the name Rhodia as indicating her
birthplace. This does not agree with the scholium.

■* Meineke, Hist. crit. com. p. 125.

118 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

These few examples are conclusive.^ It was really the spirit
of Archilochus that animated Athenian comedy at this time,
at least in the case of those poets who preferred not to
devote themselves to mythological parody or to extravaganza
pure and simple. Political comedy, properly speaking, such as
had been known during the war against Archidamus, which
mingled philosophy with satire, and aimed at giving the people
general instruction, was changed under the influence of circum-
stances ; but the change was not for the better.

Aristophanes seems not to have shared in this tendency.
To tell the truth, we do not know what plays he produced
between 421 and 414, but we have no warrant for the belief
that he wrapt himself in silence after the period of active
production which had gone before. On the other hand, how-
ever, had he written an important work of political satire
during this time, it is rather unlikely that it would have been
entirely forgotten. We must rather assume that the plays he
jWrote during these few years touched only incidentally on
[topics of the day, and that, as a rule, they partook of the
character of literary criticism, or of mythological parody, or
else of pure extravaganzaj This is the way the Birds begins.

Shortly before the time this play was performed, a^law had
been enacted — if we may trust ancient authorities — which
limited the license of comedy. Its author was a certain
Syracosius, an obscure politician, who, by the way, is known
only through the derisive allusions of his contemporaries.
The most interesting of these allusions is found in a fragment
of the Hermit by Phrynichus, performed in 414. In it the
poet expressed the wish that Syracosius might get the
mange. " For," said he, " he has deprived me of the liberty of

' We may probably add also the Hyperholus by Plato, one of the plays to
which Aristophanes apparently makes allusion in the parabasis added to the
Clouds in 418. Cf. Schol. Thesmoph. 1. 808 and see Kock, Fr. com. gr. i.
p. 643. The Demes by Eupolis was apparently of the same character ; the play
was directed against the recently elected generals. Gilbert, Beitrdge, p. 222
et seq., assumes that it dealt with Alcibiades, and dates this satire in the year
419. The fragments, however, do not afford any solid ground for this con-
jecture. Therefore, the general import of the play remains uncertain, and
this is why I do not include it in the above enumeration.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 119

putting those into my comedy whom I wished to " (acpeiXeTo
yap KioiuteSetv 01/9 eiredvixovv). The scholiast of Aristophanes
who quotes this fragment adds : " It seems that Syracosius
passed a decree which forbade the introduction of any person
by name in comedy."^ We see that this statement is based
on a conjecture, which appears to have the lines of Phrynichus
as its only foundation. They evidently allude to an actual
occurrence, but we do not know what this occurrence was. It
would be necessary to know who were the men whom Phryni-
chus wished to deride, before we could attempt to discover
how Syracosius could have thwarted his desire and deprived
him of the means of doing this. In any event, the
alleged decree is very improbable in itself. Comedies per-
formed about the year 414 abound in proper names and
satirical allusions to contemporaries ; the few extant fragments
of Phrynichus' Hermit are full of them (fr. 20, 21, 22).
The text of the alleged decree, in the form in which it is
given by the scholiast, is therefore certainly incorrect ; more-
over, it is only a reproduction of the decree of 440. What,
then, is left of his testimony ? Nothing, or very little ; and
it will no doubt be best, for a proper appreciation of Aristo-
phanes' tendencies at this period, to disregard it entirely.-

II

No play has given rise to more differences of opinion than
the Birds, not, however, in regard to its poetic value, for by

^ Scholia to the Birds, 1. 1297 : ^oKel 5k (!Si'pa/c6(Ttoj) /cat \l/-q(pi(Tna. reOeLKivai /jlt]
Kcj/Jiijideiadai dvofJUcrTi Tiva.

-The absurd testimony of the scholiast on Aclius, Aristides (ed. Dindorf,
iii. p. 444), who knows nothing of Syracosius, and attributes a law of this
kind to Cleon, surely in no way confirms the trustworthiness of the testimony
we have already refused to accept. Nevertheless, modern scholars, as a rule,
admit the authenticity of Syracosius' decree : Curtius (Hist. gr. translated by
Ward, iii. p. 365 ff.) attributes this decree to the influence of the oligarchs;
Ed. Meyer [Gesch. d. Alterth. iv. p. 52.3) regards it as the work of the radical
party, and this view is shared by Busolt {iii. 2nd part, p. 1349). So many
risky hypotheses, based on a conjecture of a perplexed grammarian !

120 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

common consent, it is recognized as one of the most charming
creations of Aristophanes' genius. Eegarding the author's
intentions, however, there is controversy among the critics,
and this controversy, begun in antiquity, does not yet seem
near settlement. Without entering here upon a detailed
statement, which would be endless and tedious, we may
simply say that these divergent opinions can be reduced to
three, which, however, in turn admit of many shades of /^
meaning.^ Some of the critics regard the play as a purev[J
extravaganza, containing only occasional derisive allusions to
men and events of the day, but without general import.
Others, on the contrary, descry in it a political and moral
allegory, cleverly constructed on a very deliberate satirical plan,
which, in turn, they interpret in various ways. And finally,
others try to hold a middle course between these two opposite^
views. It is not possible to deal with this play without
taking sides in the controversy. But, after all that has been
said about it, this may be done briefly, if we confine our
observations to its really important aspects.

First of all we must eliminate an a priori idea which is
of a sort to mislead us.

Some critics have either laid down the principle or have
tacitly assumed that every comedy of Aristophanes must have
a satirical thought as its foundation.^ This amounts to remov-
ing the difficulty by solving it in advance. In fact, what we
know about ancient comedy gives us no warrant whatever for
so absolute a statement. On the contrary, it seems incontest-
able that in the second half of the fifth century a number of
comedies were produced at Athens which were purely imagina-
|tive, intended merely to amuse the public ; and we have no

^ A short review of this discussion up to the year 1874 may be found in
an article by Bursian, " Uher die Tendenz der Vogel des Aristoj^hanes,"
Sitzungsberichte der Miincher Akad., Histor. phil. Klasse, 1875, p. 375. His
account must be supplemented by citing the Histories of Greek Literature,
chiefly those of Bernhardy, Sittl, Bergk, Christ, the work of J. Denis, La
ComMie grecque, the Greek Histories of Curtius and Busolt, the Beilrdge of
Gilbert, the Geschichfe des Alterthums by Ed. Meyer. I have myself touched
on this subject in I'Histoire de la littdrature grecque, 2nd ed. 1898, iii. p. 546.

- J. Denis, La comMie grecque, i. p. 437.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 121

proof that Aristophanes' plays were an exception in this respect.
This self-styled principle is therefore worthless in itself, and
it is only by a study of the play that we can get light on
its meaning.

First we must consider the opening action. Two Athenians,
Peithetaerus and Euelpides, leave Athens and have no desire
to return ; they declare they cannot live there longer. Never-
theless, they admit that the city is glorious and prosperous.^
What fault have they to find with it, then ? Only one —
there are too many lawsuits there. One of them says :
'" The cicadae sit chirping on the boughs only a month or two ;
but the Athenians chirp over their lawsuits all their lives
long. That is why we are leaving," ^

When we remember that this must have been written
toward the close of the year 415, it is hard to avoid comparing
this statement with Thucydides' testimony about the state of
mind of the Athenians at that time. It was in the summer
of 415 that the affairs of the Hermae and of the Mysteries
successively startled the city. The suspicious spirit of the
Athenian democracy had been aroused by these events. The
historian says : " The people saw in them an organized plot to
overthrow the state and to abolish the democracy." ^ " Far
from being allayed by the people's absorption in the prepara-
tions for the Sicilian War, these misgivings only grew for
several months after the departure of the fleat, which took
place in midsummer." ^ Thucydides goes on : C Ii^ their uni-
versal distrust they accepted all evidence indiscriminately and
arrested and imprisoned men of the highest respectability
on the faith of irresponsible people." ^j And again : " The
exasperation of the masses and the number of arrests
increased day by day." '^ " It is true that one of the
prisoners finally declared himself guilty and made revela-
tions, true or false, about the aff'air of the Hermae, and this
somewhat calmed the anxiety of the people on that score.

^ Birds 1. 36 : avrrju /xiv ov nicrovvr' €K€Lv7]v Tr]v iroXiv,

rb /JLT) ov fj.iya.\y)v ilvai tpiiffei Kevoaljxova.

=^/?mZ. 11. 39-42. » Thucydides, vi. 27. * Rid. vi. 30.

'^Ibid. vi. 53. ^ Ihid. vi. 60.

122 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

But the affair of the Mysteries remained unexplained for some
time longer and kept excitement alive. The people clung to
the conviction that this was likewise the result of a plot
against the democracy, hatched with the connivance of the
enemies of the country. At one time, the citizens spent
the night in arms in the temple of Theseus, evidently pre-
pared for a surprise by the oligarchs ; and at the same time
the Athenians handed over some oligarchs of Argos, whom
they had held as hostages, to the Argive democrats to be
slain." ^ We may be sure that, after this, the political trials
must have been continued during all the last part of the year
415, and perhaps even beyond that date — that is, during just
the time when Aristophanes was writing his play. If this is
true, the allusion appears incontestable.^ The word SIkui in
the lines quoted is not contrasted with ypacpai; it is not the
special designation of private suits. It applies, indirectly at
least, to all legal proceedings then under way, even to those
which did not come to trial. Aristophanes may have seen
several of his friends denounced, imprisoned and examined.
[It was this prevalence of suspicion, denunciation, investigation
and arbitrary severity, that gave him the idea of the fantastic
departure of these two Athenians. In the same year and at
the same competition, another comic poet, Phrynichus, pro-
duced his Hermit (Moi/ot^otto?), whose title clearly enough
reveals his intention. The hermit, too, must have fled from
Athens for similar reasons. In the circles in which the two
poets moved, people no doubt thought that Athens was no
j longer fit to live in. This is what each of them conveyed in
/ two different Hctions that were inspired by the same thought.
And so politics do figure at the beginning of the plot.
But this does not mean that the entire plot is a logical
and continuous development of the idea indicated at the
beginning. Have we not seen that in the Kniglits the
opening incident of the play is borrowed from the expedition
to Sphacteria and that nevertheless this expedition plays no

^ Tliucydides, vi. 61.

"^ Birds, 11. 40-41 . . . 'Adijva'ioi 5' del

(irl Twv Si,KU)v adovjt. iravTa tqv ^iov.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 123

r

part in the development of the plot ? A comedy of Aristo-
phanes should not be treated like a deductive argument nor
like a mathematical demonstratioiij

What are our two self -constituted exiles after ? A place
where one may live in peace (tottov airpayiuova, 1. 44). They
mean to ask an ancient King of Thrace, Tereus, who, as we
know, was changed into a hoopoe, to be good enough to point
it out to them. As a bird, he has had opportunity to see
many countries, and as a man, he is in a position to have an
opinion. And now they stand before him. Tereus asks them:
" ' From what country do you come ? ' ' From the land of the
brave triremes.' ' So you are heliasts ? ' ' Nay, quite the con-
trary ; we are anti-heliasts ' {onrriXiaa-Td). ' Grows that seedling
there?' 'Aye, you could find a bit in the country.'"^ The idea
which we just hinted at here appears in a somewhat more precise
form. The two friends have rustic minds. The seedling of law-
suits is grown only in the city. That is why they hate the city.

But how do they describe the ideal city for which they are
searching ? If the poet has a serious project of a really political
nature to propose, this is clearly the place where it ought to
appear. But note their first declaration : at no price will they
accept an aristocratic state (11. 125-126). Is this mere empty
talk, meant to reassure the audience ? We should be justified
in so interpreting it only in case other ideas were suggested
in what follows. This is not the case. The life for which
Peithetaerus yearns, is a life of comfort, of pleasure, of easy
intercourse — a rather vulgar ideal, if you choose, but by no
means a revolutionary one (11. 127-142). He is anxious, it is
true, that his new home should not be on the sea-shore, for
fear that some fine day the trireme, called " The Salaminia,"
may heave in sight with a process-server on board (1. 147).
Granting that this allusion to the recall of Alcibiades implies
a blame or a regret, it is at best nothing more than a word
casually spoken which has no influence on the plot.

The decisive moment in the plot is Peithetaerus' proposal
and the series of speeches by which he leads the birds to
accept it. In other words, it is the construction of Cloud-

^ Birds, 11. 108-111.

124 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

cuckootown. Those who have imputed revohitionary intentions
to the poet, Hke Koechly, for example,^ have been struck by
this conceit, which seemed to them to be significant. Was
not the imaginary building of a new city tantamount to a
plain declaration that the existing city ought to be abolished
and reorganized from foundation to turret ? This would, in
fact, be probable, if Cloudcuckootown had a constitution ; but
however closely we examine and dissect Aristophanes' extrava-
ganza, we cannot find anything of the sort in it. Cloudcuckoo-
town has no constitution. Not a word about the future
organization of offices, of elections, of balloting for magistrates,
of pay for the judges, or of the restriction of civic rights — in
a word, of all the questions about which the Athenian parties
differed at that time. Not one of these flighty fellows manifests
the slightest personal ambition, nor the slightest leaning
toward oligarchy. Even if we wished, by hook or crook, to
give these fancies the names of real things, the winged people
would look to us like a democracy — one would almost be
tempted to say like a giddy-brained democracy." And their
leader, Peithetaerus, has no other means of action than his
speeches, just like the ordinary Athenian demagogues. He is
the people's leader, 7rpo(TTUTi](; rod Si'ijixou, not at all an aggressive
reformer, nor a man who aspires to tyranny.

When once the city is built, it is true that he excludes
quite a number of people of the sort that swarmed at Athens :
a lyric poet, a dealer in oracles, a scheming geometrician, also
an inspector with a vague mission, and a manufacturer of
decrees. Only the last two have a semblance of political
character. Somewhat further along there comes a second
lot : a prodigal and needy son who thinks of strangling his
father, the poet Cinesias, and finally a sycophant. If this is
to serve as an indication of the reforms contemplated by
Aristophanes, they would have consisted in ousting the bores
and the rascals, among whom he counted only three special

^ Uber die Vogel des Aristophanes, Zurich, 1857.

^In line 1581 we learn that, among the birds, those who are suspected of
evil designs against the democracy are roasted on a fork. What more need
we ask ?

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 125

products of the Athenian democracy : the inspector, whose
particular business it was to fleece those whom he inspected,
the manufacturer of decrees, a discreet ally of perplexed
politicians, and finally the sycophant who makes a living out
of denunciations. Projects of reform such as these may have
appeared chimerical, but they were not of a kind to disturb
any political party.

Need we attach any greater importance to the marriage of
Peithetaerus and Eoyalty with which the play ends ? And
need we, by chance, be tempted to assume that Aristophanes
employed this fiction in order to suggest to the Athenians the
idea of the advantages of a monarchy ? Had this been the
case, he would have been the whole monarchical party in
Athens, for we do not elsewhere find any trace of such a
party in the history of the time. This absurdity should
suffice to doom all such assumptions, even if the play did not
give a sufficiently clear indication of the poet's real thought.
The Eoyalty whom Peithetaerus marries is naught else than the
Government of the universe. She is the daughter of Zeus,
and when Zeus transfers his sceptre to the birds, who have
become the masters of the world, he takes their representative
as his son-in-law, in order to sanction that transfer.^ Thus,
this marriage is a part of the entirely fantastic fiction of

' In 1. 1534 fF. Prometheus says to Peithetaerus :

vfiets 5i ixr) cTrivSecrO', 4av firj napadiScS
TO aKriirrpov 6 Zei)s ro'icriv 6pvicnv jraXiv
Kal T7]u BaaiXeidv aoL yvvaiK^ ^X^"* StS^J.

It is clear that here the sceptre and Royalty are two equivalent symbols.
What may have misled some readers is the definition that Prometheus
subseqiiently gives of Royalty. "Who is she?" asks Peithetaerus. Pro-
metheus replies, " A very beautiful j'oung girl, vi^ho manufactures Zeus'
thunder, and everything else as well — good advice, good laws, wisdom,
arsenals, insults, the paymaster of the dicasts (KuXaKpiTrtv), the three obols."
"So she is his steward of everything," saj'S Peithetaerus. "That is just
what I meant to say." Here the poet's rather subtle thought seems to be
to define the absolute power of Zeus by amusing examples that would readily
be understood by the people. And that is why, after having given Royalty
abstract and philosophical attributes, he unexpectedly, in line 1539, represents
her as disposing at will of everything which at Athens depended on the
popular leaders.

K

126 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

the claims the birds made against the gods ; it has no other
meaning.

The foregoing observations show that Aristophanes' play
certainly did not have an important reform of the Athenian
Q constitution as its object, and that it does not even make pre-
tence of suggesting one. Does it not, however, contain some
satirical elements of a general character ? This question
remains to be studied.

Ill

A great many critics have found in this comedy a more or
less direct allusion to the Sicilian expedition, and to the state
of mind which had brought it to pass.^ To their minds, tlie
bird folk represent the Athenian people ; they possess their
Mightiness, their proneness to over-excite themselves, their
credulous enthusiasm, and they make and carry out huge
projects. Only, some of these critics think that this picture
is satirical, while others believe that, in making it, the poet
shared in the aspirations of his fellow-citizens.

This very diversity of opinion shows how greatly we must
distrust these summary and sweeping interpretations. The
fact is that, if Aristophanes did wish to make fun of the
ambitions of Athens, he fails to make his intention clear, for
the birds of his comedy have complete success in their under-
taking. And it cannot be said that it is their success alone
that is fantastic, for there is just as much that is fantastic in
the original notion of their project as in the development that
ensues. Moreover, is the intention which is imputed to him
probable ? In truth, we know absolutely nothing of what
Aristophanes may have thought about the Sicilian expedition.
But if we assume that he regarded it as an acfiDf folly — and
this assumption is by no means unreasonable — would he have

1 Bemhardy, Griech. Litterat. 2nd part, ii. p. 657 ; Denis, Com. grecqne,
p. 457 : "And so with airy grace and charm he makes fun of the loft}" hopes
and unbounded ambitions of Athens, that are out of all proportion to her
actual strength." On the other hand, K. Kock ("Die Vogel des Aristophanes,"
Jahrh.f. Klass. PhiloL, 1865, 1st supplementary volume, pp. 373-402), regards
the poet as a convert to a warlike and adventurous policy.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 127

employed such means to criticise it ? The great imprudence

of the Athenians — and this might be called the characteristic

feature of their policy in 415 — lay in forgetting the enemies

at their gates when they went abroad in searcIPof^others.^

Now, the birds do nothing of that sort. Quite on the

contrary, if one enters into the spirit of the play, their

undertaking is very well conceived and perfectly adapted to

its ends. But let us go still further. How could the

Athenian people recognize themselves, in the spring of 414, in

these merry and light-hearted people, in whom these critics dis- 1

cover their image ? Surely the Sicilian expedition had aroused 1

and still aroused great hopes. Thucydides expressly declares •

that such was the case." But the year 415 had been a dreary

and anxious one. The first engagements, in the autumn and

during the winter, without being disastrous, had revealed some

serious difficulties. Alcibiades was at Sparta, and in the

spring of 414 the Lacedaemonians were preparing to go to

the rescue of Syracuse and to renew the war. This was

known at Athens, as Nicias' reports disguised nothing,^ and

though courage remained undiminished, idje fa,ncies must at

least have given way to deliberate resolve. Therefore the*^ A O

satire imputed to Aristophanes would have been a year behind \ P

time. Up-to-date comedies are not composed of antiquated jokes. -^

There remain the roles of Peithetaerus and Euelpides. Is
there a political, or even a moral purpose in this association
of " Persuasive " and " Confiding " ? Critics have generally
thought so, but here again they differ when they seek to make
the interpretation more precise.

In the eyes of some,'Peithetaeru3 is the concocter of scheme's^
boastful and daring, who at that time held sway over the \
oligarchical hetaeries — the organizer of plots and of revolution. I
Euelpides stands for those who approved of him, admired, and J
followed him. Like some who belonged to these circle&r
Peithetaerus is audacious even toward the gods, whom he
finally sets aside by making the birds their successors.* In

1 Thucydides, vi. 10. "^Ibid. vi. 24. ^Ibid. vii. 8.

'•Biirsian, " tjber die Tendenz der Vogel des Aristophanes," Sitzungsberichte
der Miinchntr Akad., Histor. philos. Klaase, 1875, p. 375.

&■

Govi

128 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

the eyes of others, the same character represents both the
I exiled Alcibiades and Gorgias. Just as Alcibiades was then
advising the Spartans to occupy and fortify Deceleia against
the Athenians, so Peithetaerus advises the birds to build
Cloudcuckootown as a protection against the gods. Or again,
his promises are thought to recall those which Alcibiades made
to the Athenians in order to urge them on to Sicily.^ As for
Gorgias, a reminder of his eloquence is thought to be found
in the adroit and subtle loquacity of this fine talker, and,
in support of this conjecture, the quite episodical ode is
cited that speaks of the pernicious " tongue bellying " race
(eyyXcoTToyacTTopcov), a barbarian people, who are also
known, the poet tells us, as the Gorgiases and the Philips?'
All these hypotheses are based on the idea that Peithetaerus
Dossesses a peculiar gift of persuasion. Is this idea correct ?
I fn fact, a great many of Aristophanes' characters are strikingly
like him in this respect. Dicaeopolis, Agoracritus, Bdelycleon,
Trygaeus, Lysistrata, Praxagora, all have the same enterprising
disposition, the same direct and decided will-power, and
practically the same fertile subtlety in argument, the same
executive talent. The differences arise from the plot, and
are insignificant in comparison with the traits possessed in
common, beneath which we seem to discover the poet's own
personality. As for the play which we are now studying, it is
hard to see how this character could have been other than it
is, the nature of the comedy being once admitted.
" ~ As for an irreligious spirit, if indeed there is any such in
this comedy, it is not to be found specially in the role of
Peithetaerus, but rather in the plot itself, and in the way in
which the gods are represented. The plot is based on the
idea that the alleged power of the gods is at the mercy of a
bold rebellion ; the gods themselves are travestied as ridiculous
persons. Slaves to their wants, they cannot get on without
men, nor without women, and for their negotiations with the
rebels, they choose as their ambassadors, first, a stupid barbarian,

^Siivern, "Uber Aristoph. Vogel," Abhandlung der Berliner Akad., 1827,
Hieior. philos. Klasse, pp. 1-109 ; Blaydes, Aves, ed. major, 1882, p. xiii.
■^ Birds, 1694-1705.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 129

who does not understand anything and cannot make himself
understood, next, Heracles, a sort of heavy and greedy athlete,
and finally, Poseidon, who is obliged to follow them, although
he is their leader. All this appears very irreverent to us.
But is it really a satire on the audaciousness of contemporary
thought ? In order to decide this question, let us compare
Aristophanes' own utterances with one another.

In the Clouds we see him pointing out to his audience the
bold impiety of the philosophers of the day and the conse-
quences wliich he foresees from it. Here there can be no
doubt about his purpose, which is manifestly satirical. The
theories he imputes to Socrates are really those of a few con-
temporary philosophers, more or less altered, mixed up and
caricatured, but recognizable as a whole. As for their con-
sequences, they are as plain as day, in the acts of Pheidippides
as well as in the pleadings of the " Unjust," and they are
formally imputed to Socrates. In the Birds there is nothing
of this kind — no theory and no philosophical theology. The
cosmogony of the parabasis is nothing but an amusing conceit
in which are mingled reminiscences of Orphism, but which ,
cannot be regarded as a satire on any system. It is mythology
itself that affords the poet matter for joking, and not the
theories of those who were regarded as atheists at the tune, 7
And so it happens that the impiety which we might be"^
tempted to discover in the play, far from being properly con-
sidered as the object of his censure, should on the contrary be
laid at his own door. In fact, there is no such impiety. It
recalls the manner of treating the gods which was accepted by
the Athenian public, however devout it may have been in
other respects. But this is not the place to insist on this
point. The only thing that interests us is the evident fact
that Aristophanes' attitude towards religious matters in the
Birds cannot, in any way, be traced to a satirical purpose, nor,
consequently, to a mental reservation of a political nature.
On the contrary, his spirit seems at no time to have shown
itself so free, so little affected by practical considerations, in
this delicate matter.

It is easy to draw a conclusion from these observations.

130 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

The Birds certainly is full of scattered allusions. At every
turn the poet hurls shafts of derision at people and things.
It cannot even be denied that some of this derision is of a
general character. Nobody will gainsay that the giddy,
tlighty, credulous birds often remind one of the Athenians.
Peithetaerus, too, has some of the characteristics of the
politicians of the day. And finally, as we have seen, the
underlying motive of the plot is a criticism of the moral
condition of the city, of its propensity to suspicions and to
lawsuits. So much must be conceded to satire. But satire
does not enter into the essentials of the fiction itself, and it is
not incorporated in the plot. No governing purpose guides
the poet's imagination ; on the contrary, his imagination is
mistress and guides his conceits.

Even these scattered allusions are not traceable to a
uniform tendency nor to a controlling prejudice. Aristophanes
makes epigrams on certain demagogues and on certain demo-
cratic vagaries, he makes them on Gorgias and Philip and
their disciples, but he also makes them on the aristocracy,
on those who favor Sparta, and on the temporizing tactics
of Nicias.-^ On the other hand, he exhorts the young people
1EoT!uiy, and even to military duty.'^ All this seems to
signify remarkable liberality of mind, a liberality that cannot
be explained by a prohibitive law, if we admit the existence
of such a law. Surely the democracy- had done nothing
since 421 to disarm criticism; but the oligarchy, for its
part, does not seem during this period to have succeeded in
exerting any permanent influence, nor in proclaiming a political
platform that was worthy of discussion. Its most ardent
adherents much rather thought of organizing secretly and of
preparing for an emergency. The others, and above all the
younger ones, amused themselves by scandalizing the people
with fantastic outbursts of impiety. Neither this dangerous
childishness, nor this policy of plotting can have pleased the
judicious mind of Aristophanes. As he advanced in years, he
was always less in touch with the noisy set. His thoughts, as
well as his wit, inclined to moderation. He judged men and
^ Birds, 11. 637-8, 765, 813-815. "Ihid. 11. 1363-1369.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 131

events from a higher point of view, and he was swayed by
more general ideas. Unless I am mistaken, this may be seen
in the comedy of the Birds, and is even more noticeable in the
LTjsistrata, which was performed two years later. ^^^^

IV

Ancient authorities place two of Aristophanes' extant plays,
the Lysistrata and the Thesmophoriazusae, in the year 411, but
they do not tell us which of them was performed first.'^ It is,
however, generally admitted that the Lysistrata was performed
at the Lenaea and the Thesmophoriazusae at the Dionysia.^
This conclusion rests chiefly on a passage in the Lysistrata in
which the poet charges Peisander with theft.^ Indeed, it
seems impossible to believe that this insult was offered on the
stage under the oligarchical regime, when Peisander was at the
height of his power.

If the Lysistrata was performed at the end of January, 411,
it must have been written in the second half of the year 412.
It is, therefore, in the events of that year, or in those which
slightly preceded it, that a probable explanation of the inten-
tion and dispositions of the poet must be sought.

When word came to Athens of the disaster that had befallen
the army in Sicily toward the end of September, 413,* it pro-
duced an explosion of anger, which was followed by a profound
stupor.^ And yet, the energetic spirit of Athens reacted almost
at once. It does not appear that anybody at that time pro-
posed to make peace. By common consent, preparations were
made for vigorous resistance, although nobody dared any longer

^ Lysistrata, Argument, p. 4, Blaydes : iSiddxOv iiri KaWiov apxovTos rod fMera
KXedKpiTov. Thesmoph. schol. 11. 190, 804, 8-41 ; cf. Wilamowitz-Moellendorff,
Aristoteles mid Athen, ii. p. 343.

-Suvem, Comm. de 2^ubibus, p. 44; cf. Blaydes, Lysistrata, Argumentum,
p. 5.

■* Lysistrata, 11. 490-492 ; iVa yap Iletcravopos ^x"' KX^irTdv x^' '''^■^^ dpxaU
evixovres, det Tiva KopKopvyrjv eKiiKuv.

•• Thucydides, vii. 79. 3. ^ Ibid. viii. 1-2.

132 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

count on victory.^ Moreover, the sense of danger had the
effect of allaying discussion, and of making the masses more
reasonable. An extraordinary office was created — that of the
Probouloi — whose duty it was to take such measures as the
exigency might call for, and ten aged men, whose experience
no doubt recommended them, were chosen to fill it.^

This state of mind appears to have lasted during the whole
of the year 412. The former parties had, so to say, dis-
appeared. Though the people, as a whole, remained attached
to their institutions, they had at least grown to hate their
regular leaders. They distrusted the fine talkers, the wild
enthusiasts and the makers of promises ; they felt, in a con-
fused way perhaps, but strongly, the need of firmer and more
consistent guidance, and instinctively turned to those who
offered them better guarantees of moderation and prudence.
Consequently the most circumspect of the radical politicians
were in a fair way to become conservatives. Peisander, in
particular, was preparing to become one of the restorers of the
oligarchy,^ when occasion should offer. But the moderate
party, who for the moment retained authority, no more
dreamed of coming to terms with the enemy than did the
erstwhile demagogues, probably because they felt that it was
impossible.* The military events of 412 did not alter the
situation. Athens was able to confront the immediate danger.
She saw, it is true, a threatening alliance concluded between
her enemies and the king of Persia, Darius II. ; she also saw
serious defections take place among her allies and her subjects
— those of "Chios, of Erythraea and Clazomenae,'' of Miletus ^*

^ Thucydides, viii. 1. 3, and 24. 5: toi)s 'A^T^i/a/oi'j . . . ovb' avroii^ avrCKi-
yovras 'iri /jLera ttjv "LLKiKiKrjv ^vpLcpopav cIis ov ttclvv Tr6vr]pa acpQv ^ejBalws ra
irpdyfiara etr].

^Thucydides, viii. 1. 3-4. Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, 29. 2. Bekker,
Anecd. i. p. 298 ; ef. Ed. Meyer, Gesch. d. Alterth. iv. p. 558.

^Lysias, Oration, 26. 9.

■*The oligarchical party itself at first thought of continuing the war (Thuc.
viii. 53. 63). It was only after the execution of the coup d'etat, when all
thought of reconciliation with Alcibiades and at the same time of support from
Persia had to be abandoned, that an attempt was made to come to terms.
Beitrage, pp. 315-316.

^Thucydides, viii. 14. '^' Ihid. viii. 17.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 133

and of other places besides. But these defections did not all
take place at the same time, and she succeeded in checking or
in forestalling several of them, notably that of Lesbos.^ Solidly
intrenched in Samos, she did not permit herself to be expelled
from Ionia, and kept her foes in awe. When winter came,
her affairs were, as a whole, in a better state than was to have
been expected. Persia, the source of greatest anxiety, was
supporting the Peloponnesians with its subsidies, and was
promising them the co-operation of its fleet. And it was just
this that kept careful politicians from believing in the possi-
bility of negotiating a peace. Sparta's position was too favor-
able for her to consent to abandon it before having completely
deprived her adversary of power.

How did it happen then that Aristophanes, just at this
time, conceived the idea of writing a comedy in favor of
peace ? A comic poet might, in case of need, antagonize a
prevailing opinion, but evidently only if he cpuld rely upon at
least a considerable and influential minority; In January, 411
we cannot discover in the Athenian masses a minority of the
sort that would have been inclined to propose peace.

A comedy, and even a comedy with a distinct tendency,
cannot be likened to the draft of a law, nor to a definite
argument. It is rather in the nature of a suggestion, which
does not necessarily lead to a practical result. The poet may
appeal to deep-seated opinions which are for the moment kept
back and restrained by urgent considerations, but which only
await an opportunity to gain the upper hand, and even await
it impatiently. And if he personally shares those opinions as
fully, or even more fully, than anybody else, it is natural that
he should wish to encourage them, or to strengthen them, or
that he should even try to show, in his own fashion, that their
realization is, after all, not so far distant, nor so impossible, as
people about him commonly think. This is just what it seems
to me Aristophanes tried to do in his Lysistrata. That he did
so independently of all party influence, appears from the con-
ception of the play and from its development ; and this is what
we must try to make clear.

1 Thucydides, viii. 22-23.

134 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

One of the first facts to be noted is that in this comedy he
-^did not put any party nor any political group upon the stage.
There is no aristocratic chorus, as in the Knights, nor a
representative of the rural democracy, like Dicaeopolis or
Trygaeus, nor a decided enemy of influential politicians, like
Bdelycleon. Who are the mouthpieces of the poet ? They
are women, and foremost of all LysiStrata, the leader in the
conspiracy, the organizer of the enterprise, who regulates its
progress with such clever decision ; and her companions are
^Athenian, Boeotian and Lacedaemonian women. They are
drawn together by a common interest, which is not that of
any party, nor of any city in particular, but, properly speak-
ing, a feminine interest. They abhor war, because war
/destroys family life, separates them from their husbands and
their sons, keeps the young girls from getting married,
occasions them all alarm, anguish and mourning, and finally,
because it ruins their special work, which consists in making
the home prosper, and through the home, the city, and
through the city, the whole of Greece. Presently we shall
come back to this very interesting Hellenic sentiment. Here
we need only observe that, as women, they have this sentiment
as the result of the painful anxiety which affects their domestic
life. As for the means they adopt to bring the scheme to a
successful issue, we know, without having to insist upon it,
that it is the most feminine'^imaginable. For the capture of
the Acropolis is merely an amusing conceit, necessary to keep
the plot going, and the poet almosts neglects it in the course
of the play. These women are intrenched in their resolve
much more than they are intrenched in the citadel, and this
resolve really has nothing to do either with oligarchy or
democracy.

Thus, the poet, at the outset, places himself above party
considerations by the choice of his representatives, and seems
to give us to understand that he is devoted to a more general
and truly human interest. Do the allusions which appear

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 135

here and there throughout the scenes contlict with such a
purpose ? By no means ; for they are directed indiscrim-
inately against all those who harass the city for the benefit of
their ambition or of their greed.

When the old men get ready to storm the gate of the
Acropolis with battering rams, they clamor for the aid of the
generals, who are at Samos : " Which of the Samian generals
will give us a hand?"^ The allusion is very obscure. The
best ancient commentators, especially Didymus, referred it to
Phrynichus, but without explaining it, or, if they did explain
it, their explanation has been lost. What we lack here is a
detailed chronicle, by month and day. I think it most likely
that the Athenians had got wind of the intrigues that were
ripe in the army at Samos, of the negotiations with Alcibiades,
of the differences among the generals, and that the poet intended
these old men to say : " On which of the generals can we
rely to defend solely the public interest ? " It would, at best,
be hard to discover in such a question any semblance of a
profession of political faith.'

The scene in which the discussion between Lysistrata and

the Proboulos takes place, is the most important one of the

play, from the point of view of ideas. At the very outset

Lysistrata declares that she has taken possession of the

Acropolis, in order to put the money in security, " so that,"

she says to the magistrate, " it may no longer afford you a

\ reason for war." " What I" exclaims the astonished Proboulos,

I " is money the cause of our fighting ? " " Yes," replied Lysi-

/ strata, " and it is on account of the money that the whole

' trouble arose. For Peisander and those who have their minds

^ Lysistrata, 1. 313 and schol. : rts ^vWd^oir' Slv tov ^v\ov twu iv Hdfup

-C4ilbert, Beitrdge, p. 299, thinks that the generals all belonged to the
" war partj'," and that, consequently, the old men who come to the Acropolis
in search of money to conduct the war, must have regarded them as allies.
Could the audience have guessed such a riddle ? Besides, we have absolutely
no knowledge as to whether all the generals were known for their specially
warlike dispositions, and it must be admitted that this is very unlikely a
priori. As a rule, they belonged to the moderate party or even to the
oligarchy (see Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1412).

136 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

bent on office needed a chance to steal. In future let them
do whatever they choose ; the money, at all events, they
cannot have." ^

We know who Peisander was : an ambitious demagogue,
who at this very moment scented the change in the wind,
and became, as we have already said, one of the promoters of
the oligarchical revolution.^ Does the poet attack the demo-
crat or the oligarch here ? It seems clear that, at the time
when the play was performed, the assembly to which Peisander
came, at the instigation of the oligarchs of Samos, to preach a
change of constitution to the people, had already been held.^
But Peisander did not pretend to be an oligarch. In pul)lic
he doubtless professed that he was still devoted to the radical
democracy, and he merely proposed his scheme of reform as
a temporary concession to an urgent necessity. And Aristo-
phanes could, if he chose, insist on seeing only the demagogue
in him.^ But it is well worth observing that he is named in
connection with a group of ambitious men " whose minds are
bent on office " (ot rat^ ap-^alg eTre-^ovTe^). Whom does Aristo-
phanes mean by this ? Another passage gives us light on
this point. Later on (11. 574 et seq.) Lysistrata proclaims
her policy. If the men want to act properly, they need only
treat politics just as women treat the wool which they wish
to spin. " First of all, just as they wash the wool to get rid
of the grease, so the rascals should be driven from the city
energetically, under the whip ; these ' burrs ' must be got rid
of; then they should thoroughly card the people who stick to
one another, who herd together and press about the offices,
and they should pluck off, one by one, the matted heads."
Theee metaphors, which it is hard to render into English,
become clear when we study them closely, and they were
specially clear to the Athenians. The poet attacks the

^Lysistrata, 11. 488-492. ^Lysias, Oration 25. 9.

^ Tlmcydides, viii. 53. The historian does not give the date. His account
seems to show that there were several sessions of the assembly. But Busolt
(Griech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1468, note 2, and p. 1471, note 1) has shown, in a
convincing manner, that these sessions were held in the course of Januarj'.

•* Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1461, note 1.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 137

political associations, which were organized with a view to
intlueucing the elections and the verdicts of the courts, and
which Thucydides has described in more explicit terms.^
They are commonly known as hetaeries. Now, these hetaeries
were nearly all oligarchical groups, and so it is quite probable
that, in the former of the two passages quoted, it was these
politicians among the oligarchs whom the poet attacked, when
he spoke of ambitious men " whose minds are bent on office."
At any rate, they are certainly meant in the second passage.
Consequently, it appears that, in the words of Lysistrata, he
attacks all ambitious persons, without distinction of party.
Had he been a partisan and an abettor of the revolution
which was then on foot, such utterances could not be under-
stood.

Even the part given to the Proboulos well shows how little
Aristophanes was under the influence of the oligarchical party
at this time. We have already seen under what circumstances
and for what purposes the Frobouloi had been created. In no
sense did they constitute a democratic magistracy. Indeed,
Aristotle informs us that, when the oligarchical revolution
took place, twenty newly elected Probouloi were added to the
ten already in office, and that together they formed the
college.^ Thus, the original Probouloi were in the confidence
of the men who brought about the revolution even before it
took place. Had Aristophanes been with them heart and
soul, he ought to have had due regard for the feelings of these
moderators, who stood for prudence. Does he act in this
manner ? His Proboulos is a pompous and absurd sort of a
chap, whom people impudently mock and hold up to ridicule,
and whom Lysistrata even muffies up in her hood, before
proving to him that he knows nothing of _publig affairs.
Horseplay by a poet in a jolly mood, if you choose, but very
well suited, nevertheless, to show us that this poet was not a
devout worshipper at the shrine of oligarchy.

The decisive argument of the revolutionists is known to

^ Thucydides, viii. 54 : tAj Iww^iotr/as, aiwep irvyx'^^o^ ^v ry iroXtt ovcrai iirl
SlKait Kal dpxo-U.

"Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, c. xxix. 2.

138 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

have been that the doings of the radical democracy deprived
Athens of all possibility of foreign help, that they frightened
the great king and jeopardized the good-will of Alcibiades.
Indeed, this is the substance of the speech which Thucydides
imputes to Peisander.^ It may be that a comic poet would
still have hesitated to introduce such an argument on the
stage in January, 411, even though he shared the views of the
party. But surely it was not impossible to hint at it, to give
it a hearing in some ingeniously devised scene, provided always
that he took proper precautions. There is nothing of the sort
in Aristophanes' play — not even the slightest suggestion of the
sort.

Thus, everything combines to characterize his political
tendency as absolutely independent, and if it aims at any
domestic reform, it is only the allaying of hatred, the surrender
of prejudices, and the co-operation of citizens in a spirit of
mutual good-will. After saying how she meant to card the
wool, Lysistrata adds : " And then they must tumble mutual
good-will into the basket and mingle there the resident aliens
(jueroiKoi) and even the foreigners, if they are our friends ; in
fact, everybody, including even those who owe money to the
public treasury, for they too must be mingled with the others ;
and also, by Zeus, the cities which are colonies of this land
must be recognized, for they are the scattered flocks that have
fallen here and there. Let us gather them all and bring them
here and put them together ; and then we'll make a great
heap of them from which to weave a cloak for the people." ^
\ Here we have in brief all that there is of Aristophanes' politics
lin the Lysistrata^ It suggests a man who desires peace and
harmony, tired by reciprocal animosities, not at all anxious for

r^ revolution, but rather longing for quiet, and very sincerely
devoted to the greatness of his country.

Furthermore, in 411 the question of reform was subordi-

__ nated to the question of war or peace. The latter dominated
everything. How is it conceived and treated in the Lysis-
trata ? The whole play is inspired and pervaded with a
spirit of HelleiiiaJEatfixnity which calls for description.

1 Thucydides, viii. 58. ^Lysistrata, 11. 579-586.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 139

Without going back to the historical origin of this senti-
ment, we need only recall that it had been strongly manifested
during the fifth century, notwithstanding secret or open
differences during the Persian wars, and the twenty or thirty
years that followed. During the first period of its existence,
at least, the maritime confederacy of Delos was really a
national coalition of a large number of Greek cities against the
barbarians. The rivalries which subsequently arose crowded
out this sentiment, but did not entirely stifle it. Having lost
its influence in the domain of politics, it maintained itself in
that of literature and art, because poetry, oratory, philosophy
and higher culture generally, were historically connected with
various parts of Greece, and appealed to all the Greeks. Even
during the Peloponnesian war we see that Athens was visited
by philosophers, artists and leaders in every field. In the
circles in which they moved they must necessarily have made
evident the deep-seated community of the intellectual and
moral ideals of the Greeks, and, consequently, the advantages
that would come to them by living in harmony. We may add
that, by encouraging a kindly spirit and humane feelings, they
also did their share toward making people hate a war which
was causing widespread ruin and desolation. Aristophanes,
who was admired as a poet and known as a warm friend of
peace, could not remain a stranger to these influences. We
have already seen that as early as 421, in his comedy of the
Peace, an undeniably Hellenic feeling was part and parcel of
the dominant sentiment of the play — the joy of seeing the
Athenian peasant at work and secure in his former state. But
if we compare the Lysistrata and the Peace, we immediately
perceive how strong this same Hellenic sentiment had grown
in the poet's soul between 421 and 411.

At the very outset, we see that national unity exists among
the women.^ The conspirators are not recruited from Athens
alone. They comprise Boeotian and l*eloponnesian women,
and the robust Lacedaemonian Lampito, who is not the least
emphatic among them. Their avowed aim is to " save the
whole of Greece," oX;;? ri]9 'EXXa't^o? »7 awTijpia} This formula

^Lysistrata, 11. 29-30, 41 : koiv^ adiao/xev rrjf'EWada ; cf. 1. 525.

140 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

recurs several times, because it really expresses the gist of
their thought ; it is a question of rescuing the men from a
murderous folly which would end in the destruction of the
Hellenic name.^ The chorus of women, it is true, consists of
Athenians, and these Athenians appeal to the patron divinity
of the city^ and they proclaim their patriotism.^ Their
greatest desire is to help their native city by good counsels —
the city to which they owe so much, and with whose festivals
they have been identified since their childhood/ But, in their
eyes, the interests of Athens are inseparable from the common
interests of the Greeks. It is in peace, in concord, and not in
war, that they must find their realization.

Such are the principles, and it now remains to apply them.
In practice the desire for peace takes the form of diplomatic
negotiations, that is, of compromised/What sort of a compro-
mise does Aristophanes recommend to the rival cities as the
price of peace ?

It must be admitted that the poet is far from explicit on
this point. The closing scene of the play represents an ideal
sort of congress, in which sentiment plays a larger part than
negotiations, properly speaking. Lysistrata is chosen as
arbiter, and begs the deputies of Sparta and those of Athens
to approach. It is Diallage, Reconciliation, personified as a
woman, who takes them by the hand. She does so with a
feminine gentleness, which the poet points out as a great
innovation,^ and Lysistrata herself uses gentle and touching
words in order to obtain her object : " Since I have you here,
I wish to reproach you both, for you have deserved it. You
who pour a common libation upon the altars, like brothers —
and you are brothers — at Olympia, at Thermopylae, at Pytho
(how many other sacred places could I name, did I not wish

^ Lysistrata, 1. 342 : ttoX^/xou nal /j.aviwv pucra/x^vas 'EXXdSa (cat TroXlras. Cf. 11.
523-526.

^Ihid. 1. 341 etseq.

^ Ibid. 1. 347 : ^vi 5^ <^iX6fl-oXts dperrj <ppovLixos.

*Ihid. 11. 637-648.

^ Tbid. 1. 1116: fir] xaXeTr^ ry x^'P^ f^V'^ avdaSiKrj, fj.7]6' icfftrep ruiQiv dvSpts
dfia6u)s tout' ^dpwv.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 141

to be brief !) ; and to-day, when the barbarians, our true
enemies, are at our gates, you with your armies slay Greeks
and destroy Greek cities." ^ Identity of race and community
of interests, a national religion, union against the barbarians,
all themes which oratory was soon to make its own, and
which we again meet, three years later, in the famous oration
delivered by Gorgias at Olympia, probably in the year
408.^^ The coincidence is instructive, because it enables us
to surmise in what surroundings these themes originated.
Lysistrata also recalls the services that Sparta and Athens
have rendered one another. Sparta drove out the Peisistra-
tidae ; Athens gave help to Sparta when she was in danger
through the revolt of the Messenians. These memories, these
thoughts must prepare men's minds and incline them to
reconciliation.

Then comes the agreement proper, which is treated jestingly.
Athens is to give up Pylus ; this is the only thing that seems
serious.^ As for the concessions demanded by Sparta, they
refer to the Maliac gulf, to Echinus, and to Megara, but they
are travestied in equivocal and absurd obscenities, and it
is hard to say whether there is anything worth recalling.
This is evidently done because the comic poet does not think
himself competent to settle the conditions of peace. He is
satisfied with a few names, by way of suggestion or example ;
it would have been ridiculous for him to go still further, and
to wish to substitute himself for the future negotiators, when
neither side had as yet made any overtures.

It is the moral preparation for peace, the appeal to senti-
ments which are to make it possible, that interests him, and
that he regards as his task. "We have just seen that he does
not make this appeal in the name of any party. He conceived
it under the influence of a sentiment that was more Hellenic
than Athenian, and perhaps more human than Hellenic. At

1 LysLstrata, 11. 1128-1135.

-Ed. Meyer, Gesch. des Alterth. v. p. 333.

^ At first sight lines 698-705 might be regarded as advice to annul the pro-
hibitive decrees against the importation of the goods of neighboring countries.
But this advice is turned into buffoonerj'.

L

142 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

this period of his life he seems to have been painfully conscious
of the harmMGreece was doing to herself by dismembering
herself with ner own hands^ and we seem to divine that, in
addition to his old, instinctive repugnance to war, he had a
still deeper and nobler sentiment, that was called forth by
what he regarded as a crime against humanity.

But at this point a doubt naturally arises about the practical
value, and even about the morality of his proposal — a doubt
which it is impossible to avoid entertaining. Was it to
Athens that these suggestions should have been made ? And
was the moment well chosen to incline people's minds to peace,
when the situation appeared to call for a desperate effort ?

It is a delicate matter to answer questions of this sort
when one's information is necessarily insufficient. As far as
we can judge, it was not the Athenians who were most anxious
to continue the war. They did not regain confidence until
somewhat later, after Alcibiades' victory. In 411 they would
probably have agreed to treat for peace, if their enemies had
offered them conditions compatible with their honor. But
the latter, conscious of their superiority, and supported by
Persia, wished to crush them by destroying their naval supre-
macy. This was a demand to which Athens could not consent,
as long as there remained any hope of regaining the upper
hand. Aristophanes surely cannot have thought otherwise, for
in his play Lysistrata certainly appears desirous of maintaining
the maritime confederacy. Is that not the meaning of the
passage, quoted above, in which she likens the cities " sprung
from Athens " (ra? ye TroXei? oiroa-ai t>/? 7^9 Tticr^' ^'O'''^
airoLKoi) to scattered flocks of wool which it was necessary to
collect and reunite, in order to weave them into a cloak for
the people ? But these very cities were at that time seeking
to detach themselves from the confederacy ; Chios, Miletus,
and Lesbos had seceded in 412. The poet does not seem to
have appreciated the gravity of these facts. His advice is y
to bring them back and to unite them through kindliness, r
He may have had reason to l^elieve that the arrogance and
severity of the Athenian people had made their domination
hateful to them. But the harm had been done, and it was

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 143

certainly a great delusion to think that it could be made good
by a kindly policy while war was in full swing. In fact, we
can hardly decide at this late day whether the establislinient
of a confederation of states with equal rights and under the
nominal leadership of Athens would ever have been feasible.
But we can affirm that, once separated from the metropolis,
the cities in question would never have rejoined it of their
own free will. The sense of autonomy was much too strong
in these small repulilics, whether they were organized as
democracies or as oligarchies.^ Unless I am mistaken, this is
what Aristophanes failed to understand sufficiently. The
spirit which pervades the Lysistrata is generous and noble, but
it is the spirit of a somewhat fanciful poet, who unconsciously
fashioned hard reality in the mould of his hopes and dreams.

VI

We have already said that another play by Aristophanes,
the Thesmophoriazusae, was performed in the same year, 411,
at the city Dionysia, and consequently toward the end of
March. This was the moment when Athens, on the brink
of oligarchical revolution, was smitten by the dread which
Thucydides has described.- Does the comedy in question give
evidence of the poet's sympathy with the party that prepared
the way for the revolution ?

The play is directed chiefly against Euripides and inci-
dentally against Agathon, and has nothing to do with politics.
It cannot even be said to touch upon it on its ethical side, for
Aristophanes does not charge Euripides with exerting harmful
intluence on the society of the day. He simply represents
him as the object of women's hatred, on account of the evil he

^This is also the opinion of Busolt, Cfriech. Gesch. iii. 2^6. part, p. 1414. He
ver\' correctly remarks that, after the Sicilian war the allies thought only of
regaining their liberty by freeing themselves from the domination of Athens,
and that a policy of kindliness would at that time have been regarded as a
sign of weakness.

- Thucvdides, viii. 66.

144 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

has spoken of them. Moreover, far from treating Euripides'
utterances as calumnies, he seems rather to set them to his
credit, so that all his mockery of Euripides is reduced simply
to making him play a ridiculous part and to entertaining us
with his attempts to save his father-in-law, Mnesilochus, who
has sacrificed himself for him, from the women's vengeance.
The satire itself, which at first appears to be aimed at him, is
really aimed at womankind. This satire, moreover, is of small
import, as it deals with well-known grievances and contem-
plates no reform.

We might, therefore, pass over this play in complete silence,
if it were not for the fact that it contains a few allusions
which we shall have to discuss very briefly, in order that we
may at least correct certain interpretations that have been
given of them.

The meeting which is held by the women is represented as
an assembly of the people. It is, therefore, opened, just as the
assemblies were, with a solemn prayer pronounced by the
herald. The scholiast tells us that this prayer contains
certain formulae, borrowed from the maledictions against the
Peisistratidae and from the decrees once issued against
Hippias.^ It seems rather hard to believe that the Athenian
public were sufficiently well posted about their own history to
grasp a parody of such ancient matters at a casual hearing.
We must rather suppose that these formulae were still in
common use in Aristophanes' time, for certain purposes, and
that the poet parodies usages of his own day. But it is
surprising to find here a curse " on whoever treats with the
Medes."^ We know, in fact, that in the spring of 411 the
Athenian policy was to detach the satraps of Asia Minor, and
consequently the king of Persia, from the Peloponnesian
Alliance, in order to obtain a subsidy from them — in other
words, to form an alliance with them. The argument which
Peisander employed in order to prepare the people for the
oligarchical revolution was precisely this necessity of recourse

1 Schol. TJiesmoph. 1. 339.

^ Thesmoph. 1. 336 (et tis) . . . ij 'in.K7]pvKe6eTai. Evpiirldr) Mi^Soiy r' (wi ^Xd^ri
Tivi rrj Twv yvvalKuv.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 145

to Persia and the distrust with which the democratic govern-
ment inspired the great Asiatic monarchy.^ This argument
impressed the people and brought about the first reforms.^ In
consequence of this the Athenians no longer dreamed of
cursing those who " wished to treat with the Medes," at the
time Aristophanes' play was performed. What then was the
poet's meaning ? Prof, von Wilamowitz, in a very interesting
essay on the date of the ThesmopJioriazusae,^ has expressed
the opinion that a majority of the citizens — those who were ,'
actively engaged in the politics of the day — leaned towards :
Persia, but that there were still some who were undecided,
people with moderate views, sincere and honest patriots, who
remained true to the opinions of earlier days ; and it is in this
category that he places Aristophanes.*

This explanation would be sufficient, if it were necessary.
But it makes the mistake of taking seriously what is mani-
festly meant for a joke. The herald curses " whoever shall
treat with the Medes in order to harm the tribe of woman."
This addition is the keynote of the sentence. At this very
moment when it was proposed to treat with the Mede, the
poet thought it would be amusing to revive, in a humorous
way, a formula, which had perhaps been abandoned for a time
but had not yet been forgotten, and which was in amusing
contrast to the feeling of the day. Had he wished to make
the people regret the abandonment of this formula, he surely
would have gone about it in a different w^ay. The attempt,
therefore, to find an indication of his political views in this
sentence should be abandoned.

A second allusion, which has likewise been taken seriously,
seems to me to be of the same order. In the parabasis the
women maintain, through the coryphaeus, that they are much
superior to the men. " If you wish proof of it," they say,
"compare a few of our names with a few of yours." There
follows a series of preposterous comparisons, based on plays

1 Thucydides, viii. 53. ^ Ibid. viii. 54.

^Wilamowitz-Moellendorfif, Aristoteles und Afheii, ii. p. 343, "Die Zeit der
Thesmophoriazusen. "
^Ibid. p. .351.

146 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

on words, which lash the general Charminus, the demagogue
Cleophon and others. Then comes this question : "As for
EubouM, which of last year's senators that turned his duties
over to another is better than she ? " ^ The same scholar sees
in these words an allusion to the senate of the year 413-412,
which had, in fact, allowed itself to be divested of its authority
in favor of the " Probouloi " who have been mentioned above.^
If this were the case, Aristophanes would be retrospectively
censuring the artlessness or the weakness of the democrats.
But does the text permit this ingenious interpretation ? It
speaks of a handing over of power (irapaSovs), by no means of
an abandonment of it, and this handing over was done not by
one regularly constituted body to another, but rather by one
individual to another individual (irapaSovg erepo}). Therefore
the allusion is simply to the handing over of a yearly office,
by which each retiring senator gave his place to his successor.
At this juncture the retiring senators had completed their
term of office, and could either themselves judge or have others
judge how well they had performed their duties. Did they
deserve to be likened to Euboule, that is, to be characterized
as ev^ovXoi ? This is the ironical question asked by the
coryphaeus, and if he chooses the last retiring senate as an
example, his only reason is probably the desire to give his joke
more aptness by making it refer to a quite recent occurrence.
Here again there is nothing to show that Aristophanes leaned
one way more than another.

Aside from these scattered allusions, there is nothing in the
Thesmophoriazusac that savors of politics. From this we may,
to say the least, conclude that Aristophanes did not wish to
take sides in the grave and painful questions which were then
disturbing Athens. And this seems to show that the revolu-
tionary endeavors of the oligarchy did not suit him any
better than had the earlier policy of the radical democracy.^

1 Thesmoph. 1. 808,

2 Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, Aristot. und Athen, ii. p. 344.

'Busolt (Griech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1476, note 2) says that "the heavy
atmosphere which precedes the storm is reflected in the Thei^nophoriazusae"
I confess that I do not understand to what this view can well refer.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 147

VII

Was there any change in Aristophanes' political views
between the years 411 and 405, between the Thesmophoriazusae
and the Frogs ? The only document by which we are able
to judge of this is the comedy of the Frogs itself, performed
at the Lenaea under the Archon Callias, toward the end of
January, 405.^ For its proper interpretation, however, we
must briefly recall the events of the preceding years.

If Aristophanes, as it would seem, did not share the
oligarchical ardor of 411, it is quite probable that he must
have been well satisfied with the government of the Five
Thousan:!, which in the autumn of that year succeeded that of
the Four Hundred. It is well known how Thucydides praised
it, though it is not his usual practice to express approval or
blame in his austere and sober chronicle. He says : " In its
earlier stages, this Government seems to me to have been the
best that Athens had known within my memory, for it was
a happy mixture of oligarchy and democracy.- This much/
admired constitution granted full rights of citizenship only to
such as were able to equip themselves (ottoctoi /cat ottXo,
Trape-^ovrm) and forbade pay for the exercise of any office.^
In short, the control of the state was thus given almost exclu-
sively to the landed proprietors, not the wealthiest among
them, but that conservative and moderate rural democracy,
whose opinions and even illusions or somewhat artless pre-
judices Aristophanes had never ceased to voice from the very
beginning of his career.

This government lasted but a short while. The next year,
in 410, and probably in consequence of the destruction of the
Peloponnesian fleet by Alcibiades at Cyzicus, the reassured
people re-established the democracy in its previous form.* The
radical party again grew influential, and its most striking

'Argument i. at the close. ^ thucydides, viii. 97. ^Ibid.

■*Ed. Meyer, Gesch. des AUerth. iv. § 712-713; Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii.
2nd part, p. 1538. "Decree of Demophantus, in Andocides," Mysteries, 96.
For the date see Busolt, loco cit. iii. 2nd part, p. 1541, note I.

l^

... y

148 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

orator was Cleophon, a manufacturer of lyres. He was the
true successor of Cleon, and very much like him in his
violence, and, twelve years after his death, now assumed the
same role which he had played, and held it to the downfall of
Athens in 404.^ At this time, the passions that had seemed
dead revived. Those who had belonged, intimately or remotely,
to the oligarchy of the Four Hundred, those who had served it,
or who were thought to have favored it, were accused hj eager
informers. Many of them were condemned to pay heavy
fines, and were either ruined or deprived of their rights as
citizens.^ And thus precisely that state of affairs again pre-
vailed which Aristophanes had so courageously criticised at an
earlier time and which he continued to regard as odious.

Outside of Athens everything was slowly tending toward
the final catastrophe. Athenian successes at sea, though they
were sometimes brilliant and unexpected, were not followed
up, because there no longer existed either the firmness of will
or the resources necessary to continue them. Alcibiades, on
his triumphant return to his native land, in 408, after having
placed the Hellespont once more under the dominion of
Athens, had seen his forces dissipated by the clever policy
of Lysander, backed by Cyrus. Furthermore, the defeat of his
lieutenant, Antiochus, at Notium before Ephesus, in the spring
of 407, had ruined his popularity, and at the same time
destroyed the hopes of Athens. Following upon this reverse,
the Athenian fleet was forced, during the year 407, to split
up into light squadrons, in order to conduct a campaign of
privateering and pillage, which at least assured the pay and
support of her armament. In 406, it is true, Athens made a
great and successful effort to succor Conon when he was
besieged at Methymna, and the fleet which she organized on
this occasion won a brilliant victory in September of the same
year, near the islands of Arginusae, between Lesbos and the
coast of Asia. But even this victory only put off the catas-
trophe. A few months after this, Lysander, entrusted with

lEd. Meyer, Gesch. des Altertli. iv. § 713.

^ One of the most instructive documents on this subject is the Oration for
Polystrattis, in the collection of legal speeches attributed to Lysias.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 149

the task of making good the defeat of Callicratidas, had re-
organized the Peloponnesian fleet, while the Athenian generals,
uncertain about their armament, dared not take the initiative.
And yet the Athenian democracy, under the influence of
Cleophon, was more intractable than ever. It had rejected
the overtures of peace which Sparta had made after the battle
of Arginusae, and, not satisfied with sacrificing the victorious
generals to a fanatical superstition which certain politicians
basely stirred up, it made itself odious by the inhuman
measures which it decreed against those of the enemy who had
been taken as prisoners.^

It is at this juncture, in the autumn of 406, that Aristo-
phanes must have written his Frogs.

The three competitors who took part in the comic com-
petition at the Lenaea in January 405 were Aristophanes, who
got the first prize ; Phrynichus, who got second place with a
play entitled the Muses ; and finally Plato, who only secured
the third place with his Cleo2Jho7i. The title of this last
comedy, of which we know very little else, is worthy of note.
It proves that, notwithstanding the prevailing exasperation, a
poet could then, as previously, level his attacks directly against
the real head of the government, against the inspirer of the
politics of the day ; and the rare fragments of the Cleophon
certainly show how insulting its contents were. It is impor-
tant that we take this fact into consideration, in order to
appreciate the comparative moderation of Aristophanes.

It is not to be denied that the Fror/s contains bitter personal
attacks on the demagogues ; the play, indeed, as a whole, has
a satirical tone that must not be ignored. But these personal
attacks are scattered — they are shafts hurled in passing, and
the satire in general is aimed at the moral condition of the
entire city and not at its leaders or advisers.

Let us note first the poet's attitude toward Cleophon.
Twenty years earlier the play would undoubtedly have been
directed against him personally or against his policy. In the
Frogs he is mentioned only casually. In the beginning of the
parabasis (11. 674-685) the chorus makes fun of his babbling,

1 Ed. Meyer, Gesch. des Alterth. iv. § 733.

150 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

and of his foreign birth, which is shown by his speech, and
prophesies that he will shortly be sentenced, an outcome which
it evidently longs for with its whole heart. At the end of
the play, Aeschylus is entrusted with the task of ridding the
ity of him (1, 1500 et seq.). That is all. Other demagogues,
Archedemus, Archinus, Agyrrhius, are incidentally attacked in
satirical allusions of a similar kind (11. 367-368, 416, 588).
In another passage Cleon, who has been dead sixteen years,
and Hyperbolus, who has been dead five, are humorously
represented as being, in Hades, the protectors of insignificant
folk. On the whole, all this is rather inoffensive. On the
other hand, Aristophanes hurls some bitter shafts at Thera-
menes, whose political leanings must nevertheless have been
much the same as his own, but who, like a coward, had thrown
upon his superiors his own responsibility in the affair
at Arginusae (11. 540 and 967-970). These passages, and
a few others that are of the same kind but more obscure, are
indications of personal opinions that should be noted, but the
fact that they are of relatively small importance suggests the
reflexion that Aristophanes was at this time less disposed than
formerly to regard this or that politician as chief author of
public misfortunes, whatever else he may have thought of him.
Behind the acts of individuals he descried more general and
more deep-seated causes, and these his play sought to expose.

He no longer attacks even institutions or their abuses, as
he had formerly done in the Knights or in the Wasps. At
most, we might call attention to a sharp word about the " two
obols," and this is more of a joke than of a criticism (1. 141).^
This is a mere detail, without consequence. The underlying
intention of the play is of quite a different nature.

It appears chiefly in the comparison between Aeschylus
and Euripides, which forms the subject of the play. As we
know, this comparison, which is entirely to the disadvantage

^ In this the scholiast mistakenly discovers an allusion to the salary of the
judges, with which we have nothing to do here. Moreover, the poet merely
remarks what great power this little sum has among the dead, just as it has
among the living. For the two obols see Busolt, Gnech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part,
p. 1544. It was a daily grant of two obols, accorded by the state to poor
citizens ; this grant was made in 410 at Cleophon's suggestion.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 151

of Euripides, is at the same time literary and moral ; l)ut the
- moral part seems to be of greater consequence to the poet
than the literary, and precisely herein lies the novelty of his
point of view. For a very long time he had shown himself an
emphatic opponent of Euripides ; he had already made fun of
him in the Acharnians, the earliest of his extant comedies.
He continued to make fun of him in the Clouds, the Peace, and
in the Thesmophoriazusae, to say nothing of the plays that
have been lost. In all this ridicule it was especially Euripides'
art, his dramatic effects that were made fun of. His moral
influence was referred to only incidentally. Here, quite the
contrary is the case. From the point of view of art, the
comedy might make us hesitate between the two poets.
Although Aristophanes appears to prefer Aeschylus, he is not
above making his audience laugh at his archaic style and his
obscure grandiloquence. On the other hand, again, even
though he ridicules certain of Euripides' methods, he shows,
by the utterances of Dionysus, that he recognizes the fascina-
tion he had for people. But so far as moral influence is
concerned, the comparison is as decidedly as possible in favor
of Aeschylus. If we listen to the comic poet, it would almost
seem as if the victories of the Persian wars had been of his
making, whereas the mournful state of Athenian affairs in 405
must be laid at Euripides' door.

" Consider," says Aeschylus to Dionysus, " what style of
men he received from me when he began to write — heroic
six foot fellows, citizens who did not shirk their duty (/u>7
SiaSpacniroXiTa^), not mercenary souls, deceitful and wily, such
as they are now." And he reminds him of the WBrlike_spirit
which the tragedy of the Seven breathed. " Whoever saw it
longed to be a warrior." In this wise he taught the Athenians
how to vanquish their foes, by implanting in their hearts the
desire to do noble deeds (11. 1026-1027). He presented on
the stage for their imitation heroes whom each of the
spectators strove to outdo at the first call of the trumpet
(11. 1041-1042). That is what Athenians loved then, and
what they ought to have kept on loving (1. 1025). Instead of
that, they have lent their ears to the seductive and corrupting

v^-

152 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

fictions of Euripides. And he, by portraying to them a race
that was morally lower, has also lowered and impaired their
souls (1. 1062 et seq.) ; the rich are no longer willing to
sacrifice their wealth for their country (11. 1065-1066); now'
the young think of nothing but learning the art of talking —
they have abandoned the palaestra for the debauch ; and even
the sailors, who formerly were rugged and subject to discipline,
have become subtle talkers who know how to refute their
captains (11. 1069-1073). So the city is overrun with
hireling scribes and buffoons, who fool the people with their
apish tricks (11. 1083-1086).

This brutal description given by the aged Aeschylus forms
the centre of the play. There is no doubt that, with due
allowance for comic exaggeration, it expresses the poet's own
thought. But the harshness and the seriousness of these
reproaches are such as to occasion surprise. Between 413
and 404 Athens appears to have displayed a desperate energy.
One might think that she would have been downcast after her
reverses in Sicily. She had neither fleet nor army left. And
yet she held the foe at bay for nine years after that. Neither
defeat nor defection could force her to surrender. On two
occasions, in 408 and in 406, she seemed to be almost on the
point of regaining the upper hand, and she maintained this
indomitable resistance to the point of utter exhaustion and at
the cost of the most painful sacrifices. At no time, perhaps,
in her entire history, did she display a stronger will or a more
obstinate courage.

Shall it be said, then, that Aristophanes was mistaken, that
under the influence of a prejudice he pointed out imaginary
failings ? This is hardly credible of a mind which had re-
peatedly shown itself to be singularly perspicacious. We
must be on our guard against permitting ourselves to be
misled by appearances.

Nothing is more striking in the behavior of the Athenians

at this time than the brusque and, so to speak, sudden

character of their decisions. As soon as they are in imminent

, danger a sort of desperate exaltation possesses them, and they

make an extraordinary effort which saves them for the time ;

1

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 153

but this effort is never sustained. In the main, it almost
seems as if they had never had a clear conception of the
conditions of success. Was success possible ? There is room
for doubt. At all events, there was no chance of securing it
save on one condition : its enormous difficulties must first be
appreciated, and if an earnest attempt was to be made to
•overcome them, this policy must be backed up by continuity
of effort and of sacrifice, which could be secured only by the
absolute and unswerving devotion of every citizen to the
common cause. It was just such devotion that was lacking.
In days of exceptional peril, those who were most energetic or
most violent in the assembly, carried the others with them,
partly through enthusiasm, partly by intimidation. In this
way desperate resolutions were taken which had to be carried
c»ut subsequently, notwithstanding regrets and attempts at
evasion. These were, in a manner, the convulsions of patrio-
tism. Moreover, many private interests were thus satisfied,
for the prevailing destitution led many poor people, who were
driven to desperation by misery, to take advantage of the
opportunity to earn a penny at the expense of allies on whom
contributions were levied and of the enemy who were pillaged.
Notwithstanding all this, it must be admitted, that true civic
spirit was degenerating.

The testimony of Thucydides, Xenophon and Plato would
have to be absolutely rejected, were we disposed to deny the
extent to which individualism had been developed in Greece,
and especially at Athens, since the beginning of the Pelopon-
nesian war. It had at first spread through the better classes,
under the influence of the sophists. Many independent minds,
in their search for the foundations of law and ethics, had
thought that they rested upon selfish interest. When they
sought to make their principles harmonize with their discovery,
they even constituted selfish interest, which was often under-
stood in a rather gross sense, their rule of life. Ideas, such as
these, when they have once been proclaimed, quickly spread
from class to class. Without this quiet revolution, which took
place in the days of Aristophanes, there would be no historical
explanation for the rather lax morality of the century that

154 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

followed. Demosthenes hints at it, the new comedy pictures

it, and it became crystallized in Epicureanism. Aristophanes

witnessed its growth, and he, at least, vaguely understood its

seriousness and the causes that led to it. In his eyes,

Aeschylus and Euripides, as they are represented in the Frogs,

/ stand for the two states of mind through which Athens had

I passed successively. In this concise and necessarily exaggerated

\ comparison, Euripides stands for restless Intellectualism, bent

1 on analysis, incapable, at bottom, of finding satisfaction, but

undermining moral discipline because of its inability to assign

an indisputable reason for its existence, and consequently

giving free scope to the egotistical instincts which fret at

social exigencies.

But, after all, did the poet in the Frogs wage war on
democracy ? It seems impossible to maintain that he did.
The tendency which he criticises was really of aristocratic
origin. Little by little it had become universal. Aristophanes
criticised it freely, without discriminating between classes ; but,
in fact the Athenian aristocracy might have come in for its
share of his criticism quite as much as the common people.
On the other hand, when considered in the light of its con-
sequences, this tendency was quite as much out of keeping
with the democracy as with the aristocracy, if the rule of the
majority is indeed the form of government which can least of
all get on without the devotion of all to the common cause.
The underlying spirit of the Frogs, then, is essentially rather
ethical and social than, properly speaking, political.

VIII

It is true that, side by side with this general thesis, the
same play contains some more precise and directly practical
counsels of a slightly different character, which finally demand
examination.

First, then, there is the famous parabasis, which, according
to the anonymous author of the argument, was so much
admired by Aristophanes' contemporaries. He informs us, on

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 155

the testimony of Dicaearchus/ that it secured the play the
exceptional honor of a second performance. The band of the
initiated address the audience through their spokesman, the
coryphaeus, and their very character imparts something serious
and religious to their counsels ; the poet chooses to make a
point of this fact. Evidently he does not wish to have his
thoughts appear to be the programme of a party. He offers i
them as a sort of solemn instruction, inspired by unselfish Jr
patriotism, to men who piously preserve their country's holiest
traditions — an instruction which is even, as it were, associated j
with the celebration of the mysteries.

They say, " It is right that the sacred chorus {top Upov
Xopov) should give the city good counsels and wise instruction.
In the first place, we believe in re-establishing equality
between citizens, and in putting an end to terror (i^iawcrai
Tov^ TroXiTug KCKpeXeiv Ta oe/yaara). And if any have done
wrong, misled by the intrigues of Phrynichus, I declare that
they should be allowed to discharge the accusations against
them and atone for their former mistakes (alrlav eKOela-i Xvcrai
ra? irporepoi' ajuaprla';).'^ The purport of this first injunction
is clear. Aristophanes here puts in a claim in the name of a
large class of citizens who were at that time treated as\
suspects,^ all those, namely, who were suspected of having \
favored the oligarchy of 411. No charges were lodged]
against them on this score, which was not of a kind to
warrant a legal process ; but they were excluded from public
functions, or even summoned to court on some pretext, and
the democratic tribunals loaded them down with fines. And
so, incessantly threatened with ruin, imprisonment and dis-

^ Argument i. oirrui Se edavfj-affdrj dia rrjv if avTc^ Trapd^acnp uiare Kai dvediddx^Vt
oj? (prjai ALKaiapxos.

"^ Froys, 11. 686-690 Alriav iKdeivai is obscure. This verb is properly applied
to a ship which disembarks its passengers or its freight (Sophocles, Philoctetes,
I. 5). I believe that Aristophanes compares suspected persons, who are under
I he cloud of vague charges which they are not able to get rid of, to ships
which have not received permission to discharge their freights.

'See orations 20 and 25 of Lysias and Gilbert, Btitrdge, p. 353. I think,
as may be gathered from the translation given above, that Gilbert has not
quite caught the exact meaning of tlie passage.

156 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

honor, without ever bemg able to clear themselves of the
fundamental, but unavowed, grievance which weighed them
down, they endured a veritable reign of terror. It is this
odious and lamentable state of affairs, which was well adapted
to perpetuate enmity and to keep alive dissensions in the city,
that the poet courageously censures in this passage, with a
moderation and a candor which do him great honor. There
can be no doubt that he had friends in this persecuted class ;
but that, after all, is of no great consequence for the appre-
ciation of his words, for he merely asks for justice and
equality. What he claims lor them, is the right to clear
themselves, the right once more to become citizens like other
people. Unless, indeed, we assume that hatred and distrust

must be the moral temper of a democracy, it is hard to deny ^

that his advice was compatible with the public weal. i

The coryphaeus goes on : " In the second place, I say that
no man who is a citizen of the state should have his civic
rights curtailed (efr arimov (pj]/uu xp^vai jUiTjSeu elv ev tu
TTo'Xei). For is not the situation disgraceful ? Certain people
here, who were formerly slaves, are ranked among the
Plataeans, because they took part in a single naval battle. I
approve of this reward, to be sure, and have not a word to
say against it ; indeed, it is the only sensible thing you have
done. But ought you not, after that, pardon a single unfor-
tunate act of those who have so many times fought with you
at sea, as their fathers have done before them, and who are of
your own race, when they beg for forgiveness ? " ^ This
passage refers to the citizens who had served as hoplites in
411, under the Four Hundred, and who had then remained at

T^ Athens. We know from a statement of Andocides that they
had been placed under a partial ctTijULia, and had been deprived
of the right of speaking in the assembly and of being elected
into the senate.^ What Aristophanes asks for, therefore, is

1 Frogs, 11. 693-699.

'^Andocides, Mysteries, 75, 1. 693, seems to me to have been commonly
misunderstood, and especially by Gilbert, Beitrdge, pp. 352-354. Aristophanes
cannot ask that there should no longer be any S.ri/ioi at Athens ; for dn/jLla was
frequently declared for causes in which he had no reason to take an interest.

^ >

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 157

the abolition of this punishment, for which, in fact, there was

110 possible justification after an interval of six years, and

which could only serve to keep the memory of former dis- i t if

sensions painfully alive. Sincere and cordial reconciliation in of <:^^ v^

the presence of imminent danger — that is the essential feature o^ ''^'^ "'

')f his programme, which he expresses at the close of this ,^'""^" ''^

exhortation: "Do ye then, whom nature has made so clever, ' *t>*»i

allay your anger. Let us seek heartily to win over all our

brothers by recognizing them as citizens, without restriction,

as long as they fight with us on Athenian ships. For if

we go on humiliating them, if we encourage our city in its

arrogance and senseless pride, now when we are at the

mercy of the raging waves, I greatly fear that posterity will

condemn us." ^

The second part of the same parabasis goes still further ; it
may be regarded as constituting a regular claim in favor of a
political party. I translate it in full : " Many a time we have
said to ourselves that the city treated her best educated
citizens {rov^ koXov? re KayaOov^) as she treats her old coins in ^^^^
relation to her newly minted gold pieces. We no longer use
our old coins, whose alloy was surely not bad, but which were
(juite the best of all — the only ones that were honestly struck
and were recognized as excellent everywhere, among Greeks
and barbarians, and we prefer this poor copper, coined quite
recently and so badly struck. Just so we treat with disdain
those of our fellow-citizens whom we know to be of good stock
and conduct, just and cultured men, who were educated in the
palaestra, in the choruses and in the service of the Muses. But
\ve make every possible use of men of bad alloy, of strangers,
(if a race of slaves, worthless sons of worthless fathers,
Athenians of yesterday, whom the city formerly would never
have stooped to use as expiatory victims. Believe me, ye
foolish people ! Mend your ways and make use once more of
respectable men. If you succeed, they will bring you honor.

He demands something quite different : that there should no longer be any
cLTiixoi among the citizens (^i' ttj v6\eL), that is, that it should not be possible to
be placed under partial anixia while at the same time remaining a citizen.

1 Frogs, 11. 700-705.

M

r

158 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

If you fail, good judges will at least say of you that, if you
had to be shipwrecked, you did not cling to bad timber while
you were drowning." ^

For an entirely clear understanding of the purport of these
words, we should have to be much better acquainted than we
are with the details of the domestic history of Athens at this
time. But, in default of precise facts, there are at least
probabilities that we must consider.

Aristophanes in this passage reproaches the people for
systematically excluding an entire class of citizens from parti-
cipation in public affairs, and that on account of their good
qualities. Eightly or wrongly, he alleges that the democracy
of 405 had a preconceived distrust of well-educated men, and
a sort of instinctive leaning toward politicians of the opposite
kind. As for the advice he gives, he does not challenge
institutions, but^ merely the manner in which they are
administered. He would have the people lend a more willing
ear, in the assemblies, to men who were attached to their
native soil by solid family interests, by old domestic traditions
and inborn affection, and would have them choose such men to
be their generals or their negotiators. Had his purpose been
revolutionary, had he conceived the secret plan of substituting
an oligarchy for the democracy, it is hard to believe that he
would thus have brought it forward in a versified speech,
openly delivered in the theatre. His counsels could have a
practical effect only on two conditions : in the first place, they
would have to respond to a latent sentiment that was enter-
tained by a large part of his audience ; and, in the second
place, they would haveto be such as could be adopted without
too great difficulty. | We may, therefore, conclude that, on the
one hand, the facts which he criticises were at least tacitly
admitted to be true by a large part of his audience, and, on
the other hand, that his suggestion contained nothing which
appeared offensive to them or shocked them. For all these
reasons I think the passage just cited ought to be interpreted
with the same simplicity with which it is written. We ought
not to see anything more in it than the poet has put into it.

^ Frogs, \l. 718-737.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 159

Freely and in merry mood he gives the people good counsel,
he does his duty as a conservative and friend of harmony, and
warns the democracy against an exclusive and intolerant
temper. By speaking thus, he virtually urged them to avoid
the catastrophe by which they were to be overwhelmed.

IX

It will be recalled that the play ends with a sort of political
consultation. After each of the two rival poets, Aeschylus
and Euripides, has pleaded his own cause and has disparaged
his adversary, Dionysus, at a loss how to decide, asks them
their opinion about the political situation at Athens.

The first question concerns Alcibiades, who at that time
stayed away from Athens of his own free will " In the
first place," says the god, " what does each of you think of
Alcibiades ? For the city is laboring hard to bring forth a
decision about him." " But what does she think of him ? "
says Euripides. " What she thinks of him ? " replies Dionysus.
" She longs for him, but she hates him, and yet would much
like to have him back. But do you tell us what you propose."
Thereupon Euripides makes a severe reply : " I hate the
citizen who is slow to serve his country but quick to injure it,
full of resources for himself but powerless to serve his state."
As for Aeschylus, he expresses a proverbial thought in oracular
form : " It is the wisest course not to let a lion grow to
strength in a state ; but if one has let him grow, one must
humor him " (Toh Tpoiroi^ vTrrjperelv)}

To what extent should either of these opinions be
regarded as that of the poet himself ? Euripides, it is
said, is his adversary and represents the corrupt ideas of
the day ; Aristophanes makes every effort to render him
ridiculous ; the severe opinion of Alcibiades which he here I
attributes to him must be just the opposite of his own. This I
is treating the matter much too simply. In fact, Euripides is

1 Fror/8, 11. 1422-1433.

160 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

very far from talking nothing but nonsense in this play ;
many of his criticisms of Aeschylus undeniably contain a
measure of truth. This is true also of the opinion which he
expresses here. Had Aristophanes wished to constitute himself
an advocate of Alcibiades, he would have been very careful
not to allow him to be criticised, in terms so just and of such
import, even by an adversary. He has given us a drastic
picture of his absolute selfishness, his lack of patriotism, his
vain and chimerical promises, and he has pictured them
without introducing any apologetic reply to destroy or diminish
the effect of the reproach. And so this reproach remains in
its entirety. Now Aeschylus, whom we are willing to regard
as the mouthpiece of Aristophanes, nevertheless advises his
fellow-citizens, in metaphorical but sufficiently clear terms, to
put up with this bad citizen. This was probably the poet's
opinion. Doubtless he, like many others, thought that in the
prevailing supreme danger Alcibiades was the only man who,
by his talent as general and diplomat, by his courage tempered
with prudence, in a word, by his genius could still save Athens.
And herein he probably was right.^ We know that the
decisive battle at Aegospotami was lost because the Athenian
generals refused to listen to the warning of Lysander's clear-
headed adversary. If Alcibiades had been in command at
that time, Athens might have saved her fleet, and perhaps even
once more have destroyed that of her enemy, and she would
thus have been in position to make peace on honorable terms,
assuming that she had possessed the good sense to do so. It
should also be observed that Aristophanes, with Aeschylus
for spokesman, by no means advised the people to prostrate
themselves before Alcibiades, and to make him their master.
At this time Alcibiades was neither an exile nor beyond the
pale of the law ; he was under suspicion, and, as he was aware
of this fact, he stayed securely in his Thracian stronghold.^
The poet limited himself to suggesting the idea of entrusting

^Busolt, Griech. Gesch. iii. 2nd part, p. 1579, "The deposition of Alcibiades
was a mistake which essentially contributed in leading Athens on shortly to
her ruin." Cf. Thucydides, vi. 15, 4.

^Lysias, Against Alcibiades, i. 38. Ed. Meyer, Gesch. des Alterth. iv. § 723.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 161

him with the command of the army on legitimate terms,
without subjecting him to too rigorous a moral test.^

The consultation is not yet finished. Dionysus puts a
second question to the two rivals : " What measures of safety
have you for the city ? " Euripides replies : " It would be our
salvation to trust that which to-day inspires us with distrust,
and to distrust that which inspires us with confidence." The
idea, as such, is not all obscure notwithstanding its enigmatical
form. Moreover, at the request of the god, Euripides expresses
it still more clearly : " If we were to distrust the citizens
whom we now trust, and if we were to make use of those
whom we do not make use of, we might possibly be saved." ^
Aristophanes here merely repeats what he had said before.
To distrust the regular demagogues, Cleophon and a few others, 1 \
to listen, on the contrary, to those who were then regarded I \
with suspicion, themoderates, the old adherents of the limited
democracy of the Five Thousand — herein he saw, if not the
guarantee of salvation, yet at least the best chance of it. It
is worth noticing that this excellent advice is given by
Euripides, a fact which supports the observations made above.
Aeschylug goes on uttering oracles : " The city will be saved
when the citizens shall consider the enemy's country as their
own and their country as that of the enemy — their ships as
their true wealth, and their so-called wealth a delusion." ^ As
the scholiast observes, these words, with their intentional
obscurity, appear to be nothing else than a repetition of the
formula in which Pericles' policy was summed up : leave the
territory of Attica to the invader, but as an offset devastate
his territory by constant raids ; gain all means of subsistence
through the fleet, by employing it either to exact tribute from
the allies or to ensure the arrival of provisions. As for the
last phrase, " regard wealth as a delusion " {airoplav top Tropov),
if it has any meaning at all, it must mean that Athens would
make a mistake were she to rely upon her own resources

^ The popular assembly of 408 had bestowed a kind of dictatorship npon him

(Xenophon, Helhnica, i. 4, 20). Aristophanes, at any rate, did not demand

as much as that.

"^ Frogs, 11. 1443-1448. »/6id. 11. 1463-1465.

162 THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS

once she allowed her power at sea to decline. But I, for my
part, should be more inclined to believe that it is simply an
empty antithesis, intended to imitate an oracular formula.

Should Aeschylus' counsels be regarded as those of Aristo-
phanes' ? At any rate, there was nothing new or personal in
them ; the chief criticism that can be made of them is that
they were very hard to put into practice at a time when
Athens saw the confederation breaking up through the defec-
tion of her allies, and when she was no longer sufficiently
powerful to carry the war into her enemy's territory. Why
should we not rather assume that it amused Aristophanes to
allot to the old poet a magniloquent judgment, but one that
did not apply to current events ? He makes him speak, on
the eve of Aegospotami, as Themistocles spoke on the day
after Salamis, and, if I am not mistaken, he indicates his real
thought in Dionysus' observation : " Perfect ! But this is the
sort of thing that only the judge can swallow." This means :
" That is very fine, but I should be the only one who would care
for this advice. I doubt whether the Athenian people would
have the desire or the means to take advantage of it." ^ If
this view is correct, the only serious part of the consultation
is Euripides' answer. We have seen that it amounts merely
1 to a protest against the extremists, quite in harmony with
Aristophanes' customary views.

X

Here, then, we have Aristophanes' political attitude as it
manifests itself in 405 in the Frogs; we got a glimpse of it in
414 in the Birds, in 411 in the Lysistrata, and, up jfco a certain
point, in the Thesmophoriazusae. In its essential features it
conforms with the attitude he had taken at the time of the

^ Frogs, 1. 1466. The interpretation which I adopt is, I believe, that of
the second scholiast ('E7W ixAvot 6 SiKdfwc vfuv Kara voOv ravra Xa/ajSavw Kai
dToS^xo/J-ai). But he admits, like the first scholiast, that there is another
meaning nap' iirbvoiav. This line would then be a criticism of the Athenian
courts, which absorbed all the resources of the state. This would be
admissible only if the word xp^y^taTa were found in the preceding sentence.

THE SICILIAN AND DECELEIAN WARS 163

war of Archidamus. His ideal does not appear to have
changed : it is always that of a frankly democratic city, but
one in which the greatest influence would have been in the
hands of a moderate element, of the class of the hoplites who
were able to furnish their own equipment or of the small
landowners — in a word, of the rural democracy. But while
this ideal always remains the same, it shows itself in rather
a different way in this period from the preceding. While the
poet continues to fight the influential demagogues, he does not
attribute to any of them the baneful importance which he
formerly attributed to Cleon, nor does he aim at any particular
reform in the state. ~What painfully engages his attention is
the prevailing state of mind, the blind exaltation which
possesses the people in the assembly, the violent hatred
bebween citizens, the profound schism which threatens to
be3ome irretrievable. The idea of harmony, of sincere recon-
ciliation, of close union with a view to the common good, is
what constantly inspires him and what suggests to him some
of the best passages he ever wrote. As we know, this policy
prevailed for a moment, but it was after the reverse of
Aegospotami, when Lysander's fleet blockaded Piraeus and
Agis' army, having advanced from Deceleia, shut off all roads
on land. It was then that the people at last decided to
revoke the extreme, vindictive measures which they had
maintained up to that time.^ They recognized too late what
harm they had done themselves. At all events, on that day
the author of the Lysistrata and of the Frogs was vindicated.
He had not possessed sufficient influence to force his passionate
and thoughtless fellow-citizens into useful activity at the
opportune moment, but he did have the merit of discovering
what was .right and of saying it frankly and in beautiful
words.

^ Decree of Patroclides (Andocides, Mysteries, 73-79 ; Xenophon, Hellmkay
ii. 2, § 2) ; Gilbert, Beitrcige, p. 396.

CHAPTER V

LAST PERIOD

ECCLESIAZUSAE. PLUTUS

The events of the year 404 and 403 — the crumbling of the
power of Athens, the tyranny of the Thirty, the restoration of
the democracy — seem to have changed the position of the
political parties at Athens very profoundly. Or rather, if o:ie
gives the name of party only to a political group organized
with a view to a definite activity, there were no longer any
parties, properly so called, m that city after this time. Not
only did a restoration of the oligarchy henceforth appear
impossible to the very people who would have desired it, but
they did not even think any longer of seriously reforming the
democracy. After the trials it had victoriously endured, it
had become the only possible form of government for the city
of Athens. "Whether people liked it or not, there remained no
other course than to accept it, such as it was, and to put up
with it as best they could. Henceforward schemes for con-
stitutional reforms were devoid of all practical influence, and
had no place save in the discussions of philosophers. On the
stage they would have appeared ridiculous, or would not have
been listened to.

It is not surprising that the last plays of Aristophanes
should reflect this state of mind. To this period we may refer
four of his comedies : the Ecdesiazusae and the Phdus, which
may still be read in our day, and the Aeolosicon and the
Cocalos, which have been lost. We know that the last two plays
were mythological parodies. How shall we define the others ?

LAST PERIOD 165

They both treat of social questions, — respectively, the organi-
zation of the family and the division of wealth, and so it seems
that we might properly call them social comedies.^ And yet,
one consideration deters us from doing this. To call them by
that name virtually implies the idea of a more or less defined
doctrine. Now, do these plays contain a doctrine ? It must
be admitted that there is reason to doubt it. We search for
the poet's dominant idea behind his fanciful creation without
much assurance of finding it, so quickly does he abandon the
arguments which he seemed to promise us. Many of the
scenes evidently have no other aim than to amuse the audience.
(3ne has the feeling that it would be rather foolish to take
them seriously. And yet, other scenes throw a vivid light on
certain aspects of the problem advanced, they reveal the
interest the poet takes in them, and make plain, in part at
least, what he thinks about them. If, therefore, the name
social comedy appear too ambitious for this vague and confused,
nay, even contradictory and incomplete style of composition,
let us, at least, say that we here see a comedy with a social
tendency, doubtless more imaginative than philosophical, but
yet not devoid of a certain philosophy.

Moreover, of whatever kind the comedy is, our task should
be to determine its aims as closely as possible, and to show
what relation they bear either to the known views of the
poet or to the circumstances and the surroundings in which
they arose.

It is fairly certain that the Ecclesiazusae was performed in
392, at the Lenaea.-

^For the former of these plays consult Poehlmann, Geschichte des antiken
Kommunismua und Sozialiamus, Miinchen, 1901, ii. Ch. i. section 1, from
whom I have borrowed several observations. For the whole question see
Auguste Couat, Aristophane et rancienne Com6die attique, Paris, 1889, Ch. v.

2 We no longer have the didascalia of the play. But in line 193 Aristo-
phanes alludes to a confederation which Athens has recently joined ; the
scholiast refers to Philochoros, and explains that the allusion is to the alliance,
concluded two years before, between the " Lacedaemonians " and the Boeotians.
The word "Lacedaemonians" should evidently be emended, for the poet

166 LAST PERIOD

At the opening of the play the circumstances have a certain
analogy with those of the Lysistrata. The women of Athens,
having made up their minds that the men are badly mis-
managing the affairs of state, have made a plot at the
Scirophoria to get control into their own hands. At the very
beginning of the play they carry out their plan under the
leadership of Praxagora. Disguised as men, they slip into
the assembly, occupy almost all the seats before daybreak, and
after having thus become mistresses of the ballot, they pass a
decree which turns over the government to them. "What
use are they going to make of it ? Praxagora, their leader,
establishes community of goods and community of women ; the
latter are to belong to all, according to regulations which are
to ensure equality among them. We expect to see how the
consequences of this twofold decision work out. In fact we
see only a few of them very vivaciously pictured, but they
are more or less in the nature of special cases. A silly fellow
hastens to get rid of all that he owns, in order to obey the law ;
a sceptic is more cautious and prefers to wait. Both characters
are amusingly true to life. But what is to be the outcome of
their conduct ? We are not told. The other kind of com-
munism is dealt with in the same way, in the form of an
incident : furious rivalry between an old woman and a young
girl. The old woman has the regulations in her favor, the
young girl has youth in hers, and it seems certain that the
regulations will not be the stronger ; but even this outcome is
evaded as soon as it has been suggested. As for other con-j
sequences, which would concern the family, the city, morality
— the comedy entirely ignores them.

speaks of an alliance made, not against Athens, but by her. "Athenians"
has therefore properly been substituted for ' ' Lacedaemonians. " The alliance
here referred to is that of the year 395, concluded between Athens, Thebes,
Corinth, and Argos, against the Lacedaemonian hegemony. It follows that
the play was performed in the year 393-392. On the other hand, the state-
ment is made in two passages (11. 18 and 59) that the conspiracy of the
women was made at the Scira : from this fact the conclusion has been drawn
that the play was performed at the Lenaea, the first festival after the
Scira which would admit of a competition of comedies ; but this is not so
certain.

LAST PERIOD 167

This brief outline is sufficient to show how far the play is
from being a social comedy, in the true sense of the word.
But let us go somewhat more into detail.

It is worthy of remark, first of all, that there is no mention
whatever of communism in the entire first part. When we
compare the Ecdesiazusae with the Lysistrata in this regard,
the difference is striking. In the Lysistrata the purpose of the
women's conspiracy is promptly made clear (11. 30-40, 50);
the object of their plot is to put an end to the war. The
whole action of the play, from the very start, tends toward
ihat end only. In the Ecdesiazusae the case is quite different.
The women seek, by a ruse, to have a discretionary power
given them. But to what use is that power to be put ? They
do not seem to know themselves. It is not before line 590,
that is, before the second half of the play, that Praxagora
suddenly reveals her plan of action : and it is only in the
last third of the play that we see it applied. As a result the
discussion of this plan of action and, above all, the portrayal
of its effects are necessarily curtailed. What is the reason for
this curious structure, which forced the poet to sacrifice many
phases of his subject, and perhaps some of the most comical
ones ?

AVe discover the reason for it when we examine this first
part more closely. In reality, it is of much greater importance
to the author than one would at first be tempted to believe,
and it owes this importance to the fact that it is a trenchant
satire on contemporary life. Later on will follow fancy and
the representation in caricature of certain Utopias, whose
nature we shall have to determine. Here we are in the midst
of Athenian life, and the men and the events of the day are
the chief material of the comedy.

Athens, which had been so sorely tried in 404, was then
once more engaged in a distressing war with Sparta. With
Thebes, Corinth and Argos as her allies, she had been
struggling for more than two years to rid herself of the
hegemony of her rival. The fortunes of war had varied.
After defeating Lysander at Haliartus, the allies had been
defeated at Nemea and at Coronea in 394. From that time

168 LAST PERIOD

on hostilities were prolonged in the neighborhood of Corinth
without decisive advantage to either side. The alliance with
Persia and with King Evagoras of Cyprus, as well as the naval
victory of Conon at Cnidus, had seemed to indicate an
unexpected return of Athens' good fortune. Thanks to the
king's subsidies, she had been enabled to rebuild the walls of
Piraeus and the long walls ; she had even built a few new
ships, and she began once more to cut a figure in the Aegean
Sea. Notwithstanding all this her position remained very
precarious. The Peloponnesian war had exhausted her. Many
of her rich citizens had grown poor ; almost everybody suffered
from lack of means, and yet the crushing cost of the war had
to be met. The disbursements weighed heavily on the landed
proprietors and on the manufacturers : on the other hand,
they constituted about the only means of subsistence for the
mass of the people, in the form of salary or pay; and, as a
consequence, the latter were not at all anxious for peace. In
order to continue the war, they kept increasing forced con-
tributions and confiscations. This resulted in profound distress
and in material as well as moral discomfort.^ Precisely such
is the city that Aristophanes presents to our view.

It is governed in a deplorable manner — that is the essential
point. " When we consider them, the decisions of the
assembly," says one of the women, " are as incoherent as those
of drunken men." ^ And so the conspirators are going to try
to take the management of affairs into their own hands, " in
order that the city may enjoy a bit of prosperity. For at
present," says Praxagora, " we are sailing with neither sails
nor oars."^ They rehearse the part they are to play in the
assembly. After various episodes, we see Praxagora improvis-
ing a model speech, by way of setting an example. This is
the principal episode of the first part.

This whole speech is nothing but a series of allusions to the
domestic and foreign policy of Athens which are often rather

^ The position of Athens at this time has been especially well set forth by
Ed. Meyer (Gesch. des AUerthums, v. 11. 847-866) who follows Xenophon,
Diodorus, Plutarch, and, above all, Andocides and Lysias.

^ Ecdesiazusae, 11. 137-139. Ubid. 11. 108-109.

LAST PERIOD 169

unintelligible to us. The lirst of them are general. " I see," > «

says the orator, " that our city has very bad leaders. If by

chance one of them behaves himself for a day, he turns

detestable for ten. Do you trust another ? He will do even ' otj-

worse. It is not easy to give good advice to those who will

not accept it, to a people like you, who always distrust those

who wish to do you a good turn, and are always ready to pay

court to those who do not care for you." ^ It appears that, in

these trenchant, though obscure, words, Aristophanes doubtless

wished to criticise Jihe statesmen of the restored democracy,

and more particularly the incoherency of the people, their lack

of logical thought, their sudden changes of humor, all which,

to his mind, made impossible all continuity of view and action.

He makes fun of the zeal which the citizens display in coming

to the assembly since the demagogue Agyrrhius has allotted a

daily payment of three obols to each that attends. " There

was a time when we did not hold assemblies at all, and in

those days we thought Agyrrhius a thorough blackguard.

Nowadays we hold them, and those who draw their pay cannot

find words enough to praise him, while those who get none

declare that the penalty of death would not be too severe for

those who demand pay for their attendance."^ It is plain that

Aristophanes rather shares the views of the latter. Those

assemblies of the poor and unemployed, who were attracted by

the three obols, did not please him at all, and we feel that he

was very ready to speak his mind about them casually and in

a humorous way — a clever way of extenuating a satire which

nevertheless retained its import.

Incoherent at home and equally incoherent abroad, Athens
was, for rather more than two years, the ally of three powerful
states ; but she was not able to profit even by such an alliance.
Divided against herself, she vacillates between two opinions.
' When we discussed the present alliance," says Praxagora, " it
was said that the city was lost if we did not make it. It was
made, and people disliked it ; the orator who put it through
suddenly took to flight and disappeared. As for sending ships
to sea, the poor man advises that, not the rich nor the farmery. - • ^j>?^
^ Ecdesiazusae, 11. 176-182. ^Ibid. 11. 183-188. f-lk ^-v i

170 LAST PERIOD

You hated the Corinthians and they you. Now they are friendly
to you. Do you be friendly too."'^ The few lines which follow
are unfortunately corrupt, and in those which precede many
details still vex the commentators. But their general purport,
at least, is sufficiently clear. Praxagora's criticisms lead to
their own logical conclusion. The whole trouble arises from
the fact that too many of the citizens think of nothing but
getting money at expense of the state, either by multiplying
meetings of the assembly, or by promoting war. In the keen-
ness of their private interests all these famished people forget
the interests of the state. The remedy will be found in giving
the women control, for they are by nature endowed with
talent for administration and economy, and while the men of
Athens are content only when they can introduce changes
each day, Athenian women, on the contrary, remain thoroughly
attached to custom and tradition. Moreover, their sentiments
and their instincts constitute the best guarantee of what they
will do : " The women will not let their soldier-sons perish.
Who could supply them with rations so well as those who
bore them ? To raise money, again, is women's business, and
when once they are in power, never fear that anybody will
cheat them : they themselves are too well used to cheating.
Many other reasons I omit. But believe me, and you shall
live in perfect happiness henceforth."^

We now see why Aristophanes expressed himself at length
in this first part. It seemed to him to be the appropriate
place for such political satire as he wished to put into his
play. But the very disposition he makes of this satu"e, in
relegating it to a sort of prologue and m entrusting it to
women, clearly shows that, from this time forward, it did not
count for much in his opinion. He made use of a privilege
l/v^p that was his by tradition, and he gave vent to his displeasure
by satirizing the things that were going on about him, but
he no longer thought of vigorously attacking some par-
ticular statesman or some particular abuse. Content with
momentarily being the spokesman of the best citizens in
an airy and trenchant way, he doubtless knew only too
^ Ecclesiaziisae, 11. 193-200. ^Ibid. 11. 232-240.

Le11«-

ixA'^nt'

LAST PERIOD 171

well how impotent comedy was to struggle against the stress
of events.

1^'

II

This introduction serves another useful purpose. It indi-
cates the true character of Praxagora's programme of reform.
The special merit of this chimerical reform consists in the
fact that it affords a strong and complete contrast to the
actual life of the day. In this anxious city, among these
embittered and distrustful men, who fight hard for their daily
l»read, behold, the poet conjures up a dream of communism
which is to do away with all competition, of an ample, easy,
and careless life, of an Utopia of universal good-will !

Athens was always fond of these golden dreams, so harm-
less and soothing. Again and again, during the misery of
the Peloponnesian war, her poets had held up to her vision
lands flowing with milk and honey.^ Was it not the proper
function of these servants of Dionysus to carry away the
iniagmation in their train, far from suffering and misery, or
even to pour a drop of joy into the bitter cup of life ?
Aristophanes had very often fulfilled this function in his
youth ; he continued to fulfil it as he grew older. For, after
all, as life did not grow better, it was surely needful that
poetry should go on with its beneficent work of amusing
people. He, too, represents it in this way. Let us recall the
words spoken by the chorus, when Praxagora is about to make
her argument. " Now is the time to stir your sagacious mind,
to rouse the power of philosophic thought, and help your
women- comrades. This new plan that you defend makes for our
happiness and will adorn the people of this state with count-
less blessings in their lives. Time it is to show us what you
can do, for surely it is some clever device our state demands.
But you must invent something never done nor proposed here-

^ See Poehlmann, Geschichte des antiken Kommunismus und Sozialiamus,
ii. p. 11 et seq., and Augusta Couat, Aristophane el Vancienne com6die
attique, pp. 198-200.

172 LAST PERIOD

tofore, for our people hate the old, stale things they have
often seen."^

Is it possible to say in a more agreeable and at the same
time clearer manner that one is about to take flight for the
land of fancy with the sole purpose of securing a few happy
moments for the good people ? Are we to believe that these
fancies are meant to be satires at the same time, and that the
roguish poet, while entertaining his audience, has in mind to
make fun of this or that contemporary philosopher ? Are we
in particular to admit that he is about to have a good time
at the expense of Plato ? The question is worth a moment's
study .^ Not only had Plato not yet published his BcpuUic
in 892, but the Academy did not exist. At best, therefore,
Aristophanes could only have attacked theories which were in
process of formulation, outlined in private conversation, and
then repeated and spread abroad, unless indeed, Plato later on
appropriated ideas originated by others and expressed either in
public addresses or in writings that are now lost.^

Evidently this is a possible hypothesis, whose correctness
we no longer have the means of precisely determining ; all
that can be said of it is that Praxagora's speeches do not seem
to confirm it.

In the first place, the ideas she expresses are represented
by the poet himself as being absolutely new.* There is not
the slightest allusion to a philosopher whom he might have
intended to ridicule — very surprising discretion on the part
of a man who did not shrink from using proper names. And
then these ideas themselves have not a shade of philosophy in
them. When Plato, in his Bepuhlic, proposes to establish

^ Ecclesiazusae, 11. 571-581.

2 On this subject see Zeller, Phil, der Greichen, ii. 3, p. 466, note 1. I have
not had a chance to consult the more recent essay of Dietzel, Zeitschrift fiir
Litteratur und Geschichte der Staatswissenscliaft, i. 382, whose conclusions are
of the same negative character.

2 Aristotle, Politics, ii. 5 and 6, mentions two Utopians, Phaleas of Chalcedon
and Hippodamus of Miletus, who had both outlined schemes for communistic
cities. This proves that these ideas were discussed among the cultured
classes of the time at least, if not among the common people.

* Ecdesiazusae, 11. 578-580 and 583-585.

LAST PERIOD 173

communism among the citizens of the upper classes, the
reason he gives is the necessity of destroying individualism
for the benefit of social unity. Here we have the earmarks
of the thinker. Praxagora is not troubled by any such lofty
considerations. She merely wishes to secure material comfort
for everybody. If she desires to create community of land
and money and of property in general, it is in order to
establish a commonalty that is to be administered by the
women and in which everybody shall live on equal terms.^
Her ideas hardly go beyond food and drink — a conception as
simple as it is material. The poet evidently is addressing
an audience in which there are many poor people, and he
ironically flatters their secret desires with the mad dream of
a state of things in which the stress of poverty would no
longer be felt.

That it is a dream appears also from the very indifference
he displays to the practical and insurmountable difficulties
which necessarily arise. Who is to feed this horde that is to
depend on public support ? Who is to see to the renewal of
supplies ? The slaves (1. 651). So there will have to be slaves
iu order that this republic may live ! We may let the curious
moral contradiction involved in this notion pass : it may have
escaped the Greeks. But we ought, at least, to be told how
these slaves are to be obtained when commerce has been done
away with, and who is to make them work when nobody will
care to toil. This question is not even discussed. In
Praxagora's opinion, industry seems to reduce itself to the
making of clothes. Who is to have charge of this ? She
declares that it is the women (1. 654). Thus the entire social
fabric practically rests upon the goodwill of the slaves and
the supposed self-denial of the women. The latter are to
continue to toil as in the past, they are of course to have
complete control and surveillance of the servants, and in
addition to all this they are to administer the public funds.
They are to do all this of their own free will and in perfection.
This is the basis of the system. We need only glance at it,
in order to see how far Aristophanes was from wishing to

^ Ecdesiaztisae, 11. 597-600.
N

174 LAST PERIOD

outline a consistent and thoroughly matured theory. The
programme that he imputes to Praxagora is one of those
amusing paradoxes which were regarded as part of the stock-
in-trade of ancient comedy. The only thing that is real in
it is its resemblance to certain vague desires which arose in
the imaginations of the poor, then as always, when life
seemed especially hard to them. The poet takes pleasure
in giving them a certain consistency, he pretends to take
them seriously, he makes them real with the full license of
an imagination that laughs at all probability. In order better
to play his game, he gives this paradox the semblance of an
argument, and he endows her who offers it with all the
resources of mind and language that he possesses. The
Athenians, no doubt, laughed at it. We must see to it that
we are not more naif than they were.

The second part of the programme is equally devoid of
philosophy. Though Plato's theory of the community of
women seems strange and profoundly anti-social to us, it is at
least based upon a logical conception. Convinced that, in
order to belong entirely to the state, the citizens ought to have
neither affection nor selfish interests, the philosopher did away
with the family with a view to strengthening society. For
Praxagora this doing away with the family is merely an
incidental consequence of the community of goods. There
being no money, nothing would remain for mankind but dis-
interested love. Blepyrus appears to fear that that might not
be enough.^ In order to reassure him, Praxagora reveals the
second part of her programme, the community of women.
Here, again, it is merely a matter of gratifying desire. She
curbs it, in truth, rather more than she gratifies it. We
know how severe are her regulations. But observe that these
regulations are entirely foreign to Plato.^ For Aristophanes,

^ Ecdesiazusae, 1. 611 et seq.

2 The only really striking coincidence is that of 11. 635-637 with the Republic,
V. p. 461: "How," asks Blepyrus, "shall each of us recognize his own
children in a life of that kind?" "Why not?" replies Praxagora, "the
children will regard all the older men, as measured by time, as their fatliers."
Plato also says this, but this fact does not imply a common source ; it is clear
that the theory calls for the objection and that the objection calls for the repl3\

LAST PERIOD 175

on the contrary, they are the chief thing. The sole reason
that can be given for this is that they are eminently pro-
ductive of comical effects, so long at least as comedy obeys no
laws of propriety. This entire part of the plot is characterized
by merry and gross buffoonery, and therein lies its sole raison
cVetre. We should not search for satire in these airy jokes.
They never had any other purpose than to provoke the
laughter of an audience whom no indecency could shock.

Ill

If this twofold programme of Praxagora's is merely fanciful,
the series of scenes with which the play ends should not be
regarded as a refutation, properly speaking. They are likewise
fanciful conceits, whose main object is to provoke laughter.
Whatever refutation they contain arises less from design on
the part of the poet than from the inborn fairness of his mind.
Wlien thus regarded these scenes also appear to have greater
justification. As a refutation they would be strangely incom-
plete. As comical scenes they fully respond to the intentions
of their author.

In our opinion, the best of these scenes undeniably is that
of the two citizens who are asked to bring their possessions to
the common fund. There is nothing more amusing, nor truer
to life, than the contrast between their characters. The one,
entirely ingenuous, is convinced that there is actually to be a
division of goods, and thinks he cannot be in too much of
a hurry to collect his bits of property, his few articles of
furniture, his scanty clothes, lest he get to the appointed
place too late. The other knows what decrees amount to,
especially when they undertake to exact any sacrifice whatever,
and so he does not believe in the division of goods. He thinks
also that if it is to take place, there is nothing to be gained
by getting there ahead of the others ; he has fully made up
his mind to be the last to arrive. But when the herald
invites the citizens to dinner, nobody is in a greater hurry
than he.

n2

176 LAST PERIOD

These scenes very vividly expose the chief impracticability
of communism — the resistance offered by selfish interest. They
also very neatly suggest the thought that in every imaginable
form of society, indeed as long as men exist, there will be
dupes. And yet, if this thought were meant to serve as a
refutation, it would manifestly be too briefly expressed and not
sufficiently carried to its logical consequence. It leaves us in
suspense and settles nothing. Under such circumstances, the
poet ought to have transported us to the public square, into
the very midst of the division of goods. And there he ought
to have shown us the conflict of interests, arising from the
very measure which was meant to reconcile them. But what
need had he of a refutation, since he had not put forward
any serious theory ? Praxagora's mad paradox, as it unfolded
itself, was its own refutation, or rather, it was offered as a
witty conceit and nothing more. Furthermore, this delightful
scene is itself a fanciful conceit, a simple source of amusement,
but so much the better a conceit because it contains fine
psychological truths.

The last scenes do not please our modern taste as well : in
them we see the women quarrelling about the love of a young
man. The grossness, or even repulsiveness of these scenes,
forbid our fully enjoying either the cleverness which abounds
in them or the truthfulness with which the poet lets nature
speak in them. But what we observe here is that they do
not constitute a refutation of the theory of free love, for what
the poet shows us is just the opposite of freedom. Suppress
Praxagora's amusing, but absurd regulations, and the whole
conception falls to pieces. It was, therefore, with a view to
this funny conception that the poet worked out her regula-
tions, which were by no means a necessary part of Praxagora's
constitution. This very fact demonstrates that, in working
them out, he merely intended to give full rein to his rollicking
spirit, and to gratify his listeners' taste for the most licentious
jokes.

From all this we gain a very clear idea of the true
character of the play, considered as a whole. At the outset, a
political satire, but a discursive and capricious satire devoid of I

LAST PERIOD 177

;i well- arranged plan, it subsequently rushes headlong into a
series of mad conceits, which it delights in prolonging for the
entertainment of the audience. It seeks neither to construct
theories nor to overthrow them ; abandoning itself to the
caprices of poetic imagination, it freely makes paradoxes,
which it lustily supports with ingenious and amusing bits of
sophistry, and upon which it founds an imaginary society.
Finally, it chooses some of the most laughable from among the
eonsequences of this revolution, in order to make of them a
series of uproarious scenes, in the usual manner of comedy.
In a word, it is a fairly incoherent poetical structure, which
we must beware of taking for the work of a philosopher in
disguise.

IV

The study we have made of the Ecdesiazusae applies in
large part to the Flutns, which was performed four years later
in 388.' This will make it possible for us to deal with it
more briefly.

The two plays, indeed, resemble one another in their con-
ception and in the purpose which suggested it. The latter
play is no more an argument than the former, but, like the
former, it is much more a sort of poetical dream, characterized
by an amusing fancy which affords an agreeable contrast to
real life, and which furnishes opportunity for many a satire on
its details.

The impoverished state of that class of small landowners
to whom, as we have seen, the poet was so much attached
from the very beginning of his career appears to have sug-
gested the idea of the play to him. The Peloponnesian war,

1 Didascalia to argument No. iv. In connection with 1. 173 one of the
scholiasts mentions an earlier Plulus, performed twenty years before, that is
in 409-408; and the scholiast of the Frogs, 1. 1093, quotes three lines of this
earlier Plutus. Furthermore, eight insignificant fragments are regarded as
belonging to it ; they are quoted in Bekker's Anecdota and in Pollux as coming
from the Piuttis, and they are not found in the extant play. Comic, graec.
fragm. Kock, i. pp. 505-507. We know nothing more of this comedy, which
was perhaps very diSerent from the play that we know by the same name.

178 LAST PERIOD

especially in its last years, had left complete ruin behind it.
It had been necessary, little by little, by painful effort and
dint of privation and labor, to accumulate working capital
and farming material again. The fifteen or sixteen years
which had passed since that time had been years of hard work
and suffering. Moreover, the war had begun again in 395,
and, although Attica was not invaded this time, the burdens
resulting from the war were terribly hard. They crushed
those poverty-stricken people, the product of whose labor
found, at best, but a poor market. Athens was deriving her
means of subsistence more and more from foreign countries.
Manufacture and commerce were decidedly outstripping agri-
culture. Wealth was passing into the hands of manufacturers,
bankers, and shipowners. It was found also in the hands of
merchants and intriguers, of paid scribes, of unscrupulous
politicians who exacted an ever renewed tithe from all
fortunes. This was perhaps the feature which seemed most
unendurable to countrymen, who were always toiling and who
were always uncertain what the morrow might bring forth.
They could not but be irritated when they compared their
honest and fruitless toil with the clever dodges, the equivocal
and lucrative rascality of those bold men, who were not held
in high regard, but were feared or could not be dispensed with.
This is the feeling from which sprang the comedy that we are
now examining.

Chremylus is the exact type of these Athenian farmers who
lead a hard life. He sees that old age is coming on apace,
and he goes forth to consult the oracle of Apollo, in order to
learn what he must do with his son. Ought he to condemn
him to the honest and wretched existence which he himself
has led ? Or ought he to determine to make a rascal of him
like so many others, in order that he may, at least, become
rich ? The god refuses an answer, but commands him to
follow the first person he meets, and to take him home with
him. Thus the first scene opens. Chremylus and his slave
doggedly follow a mysterious person, who refuses to tell his
name and who is blind to boot. Finally, overwhelmed with
questions and even threatened, he admits that he is Plutus,

LAST PERIOD 179

the god of wealth. Zeus had deprived him of his eyesight,
because he instinctively went straight toward just and upright
men, of whom that god is jealous. Were he to regain his
eyesight, he would do as he had done before. Thereupon
Chremylus promises to restore his sight if he will agree to
stay with him. Plutus is afraid — afraid of Zeus, afraid of
everybody. But Chremylus and Carion reassure him ; they
have as allies all the people of their deme, honest and poor,
like Chremylus himself. We see them come in reply to
Carion's summons ; they form the chorus, and are quite like
the leading character. After them there comes a neighbor,
Blepsidemus, attracted by the public uproar. At first he is
suspicious, but as soon as he is better informed, he is quite
willing to take part in the enterprise, as well as in its
profits. Together they proceed to escort Plutus to the
temple of Aesculapius, in order that the god may restore
his eyesight.

All of a sudden there appears an unexpected person, Penia
(Poverty), furious and terrifying. Do they intend to banish
her ? She screams, she threatens ; and then she attempts to
prove that she is not what people think. It is she, in fact,
who benefits mankind, while riches harm them. But her
arguing is in vain ; neither Chremylus nor Blepsidemus allows
himself to be convinced by it, and Poverty finally withdraws,
declaring that it will not be long before they call her back.
If we omit from her speech all that is preposterously para-
doxical or mere matter for laughter, her argument amounts
merely to this — that deprivation frequently is a spur to energy,
whereas wealth may become a source of effeminacy.

However that may be, Poverty is expelled, at least from the
homes of decent people. Carion tells us that Plutus has been
cured of his blindness, and we see him coming to stop with
Chremylus, ready to heap benefits on him and on his neighbors.
The honest farming folk are suddenly made rich. Were the
play an argument in favor of slender fortunes, the author
ought to have shown us in this passage what is lost by
becoming rich. On the contrary he appears to welcome this
outcome with satisfaction, and merely seeks to entertain us

180 LAST PERIOD

with the spectacle of some unexpected transformations that
take place in the social fabric.

A varied array of personages passes before our view. First,
a just man who has grown wealthy and comes to thank the
god, and explains to Chremylus how he had been ruined by
obliging ungrateful people. Then, a sycophant whose business
no longer thrives, and who gives vent to his rage in impreca-
tions. The cause of his misfortune is not quite clear ; we
may assume that, after respectable people have grown rich,
they have no further use for lawsuits. But there would still
remain disreputable people who had grown poor, and he ought
to be satisfied with them. Has not the poet somewhat lost
his bearings ? We might be led to think so, for the scene
with the sycophant is not easy to understand, unless all the
Athenians, without discrimination, have grown rich. At all
events, this rascal is scoffed at by Chremylus, thrashed by
Carion, and finally runs away, exclaiming that Plutus means
to overthrow the democracy.

After the sycophant there comes a very aged woman. She
is rich, and has been loved by a poor young man, but, as he is
now favored by Plutus, he has suddenly changed his mind.
It is very nearly the same situation as that which we have
already seen in the JEcclesiazusae, except that we ask ourselves
why Plutus has enriched the young man, and whether it is on
account of his good qualities. At best, the situation remains
obscure and uncertain. The fourth to come is Hermes, hungry
and begging. As honest people have nothing left to wish for,
they no longer offer sacrifices ; Olympus is suffering from
famine. Hermes makes threats in the name of Zeus ; when
he sees that his threats no longer frighten anybody, he
changes his tone and turns suppliant. But what service can
he render ? He piteously enumerates all his titles. Finally,
he fortunately remembers that he is the god of games and
competitions, and now that honest people have grown rich
they cannot indulge in too many festivals, and he will help
them to celebrate them. Carion accepts his help, and, to
initiate him, sends him to wash entrails at the fountain. The
last to come is the priest of Zeus Soter, who is also in great

LAST PERIOD 181

danger of dying of hunger. But how is this ? Is not Plutus
the real Zeus Soter now ? So the priest shall be his servant.
Promptly the whole company leaves in procession, to conduct
riutus solemnly to the Acropolis, into the opisthodomus of
Athena's temple, where he had ceased to dwell long ago.

This short summary shows clearly how far the play is from
being a serious argument, and from containing or declaring a
social doctrine.

If we seek to discover the poet's intentions, without indulg-
ing in venturesome hypotheses, the following are doubtless
the least controvertible. In substance, Aristophanes protests
at first in the words of Chremylus, and then in those of
Plutus himself, against the unfair distribution of wealth which
he saw prevailing about him. He is irritated at the fact that
it falls by preference into the hands of sycophants, professional
orators, and intriguers ; he deplores the hard lot of that rural
population which had formerly been the mainstay of Attica,
and which appeared to him to be the true guardian of the
people's safety. But he no longer feels himself capable of
making any suggestions for the cure of this evil. All that he
can offer his fellow-citizens is a dream, such as he had offered
them four years before — an avenging dream, as it were, which
gives respectable people the imaginary satisfaction, while the
play lasts, of beholding rascals derided and intriguers reduced
to declaring that they are famished.

Such is the chief purpose. As for Poverty's argument,
which has misled very many commentators on Aristophanes,
we have already pointed out what should be thought of it.
As a whole, it is purely and simply an amusing paradox, in
which the poet enjoys displaying the resources of an ingenious
mind — a paradox which was perhaps borrowed from some
Praise of Poverty, written by some sophist of that day, and
which conformed to the traditions of ancient comedy. It is
true that in nearly all the extant plays the traditional paradox
contains a bit of truth, or, what amounts to the same thing,
some of the ideas that the poet considers true. This applies
exactly to the present case. Aristophanes' " Poverty " defines
itself : it is not destitution, but rather enforced economy

182 LAST PERIOD

(11. 550-555). When this distinction is once made, it is easy
for the poet to show how strong a stimulant men find in the
necessity of gaining a livelihood, and how all activity would
come to an end if they were no longer obliged to provide for
their wants. But, to tell the truth, notwithstanding all the
cleverness he displays, this is at best nothing more than a
commonplace school demonstration, without practical value.
For it is only too clear that the conception of such universal
well-being, and of such complete gratification of all desires, is
absolutely beyond the reach of human possibility. At best, it
may be thought that Aristophanes desired, by means of some
of these observations, to make his hard-working and poverty-
striken fellow-citizens more content with their hard lot, by
making them appreciate that it was unavoidable as well as
that it had its place in the social fabric. If he did have this
thought, he himself must have felt that all his arguments
would have little effect, and that, in such matters, instinct
would always stand its ground against reflection. Indeed, the
prettiest phase of the scene is precisely the very human
prejudice of the two rustics, which is summed up in the
famous statement of Chremylus to his opponent : " Nay, nay,
thou shalt not convince me, even though thou do convince me."

ov yap Trelcrei?, ovS' dv Treia-rji.

All this proves that the social lesson of the Phdus amounts
to very little. As a political satire, the play is of little more
importance. One might pick out a series of epigrams or jeers
directed against various more or less obscure persons, such as
the demagogues Pamphilus and Agyrrhius, or against the man
whom he calls the " needle-seller " and whose name we do not
even know, or even a whole scene referred to above, in which
he gives vent to his animosity against the sycophants. But
there is really nothing which would indicate a political
purpose that is worthy of further remark.

LAST PERIOD 183

These last two plays of Aristophanes are, therefore, very far
from manifesting either a renewal of his art or a new aspect
of his political attitude. What they do let us surmise,
however, is much more a sort of tacit acceptance of a state
of affairs which he did not relish, but which, from this time
forward, it appeared to him impossible to change.

As far as he is concerned, politics, properly so-called,
reduces itself to epigrams in this last period of his life. His
words retain their candor, he levels keen shafts against those
who displease him, with the same freedom as ever — and those
who displease him are above all, now as formerly, the people's
favorites, the usual advisers of the democracy — but he is
content with attaching some insulting allusion to their name,
or with casting an unexpected gibe at them at a convenient
turn of the dialogue. He no longer dreams of writing a play
against any one of them, nor against the causes or the results
of their influence.

On the other hand, it would not be correct to say that he
attacked the social theories which were being formulated
round about him. We have not found it possible to regard
either the Ecclesiazusac or the Phttus as direct or indirect
refutations of doctrines, which may have taken form at the
time, in the schools or in a part of Athenian society. Both
these plays are fanciful inventions, which are, moreover,
arranged to fit the situation of Athens at the time, and are
replete with the every-day views of the people. These
views are pretty nearly those which he appears to have
entertained during his whole life. They are full of instinctive
sympathy with the honest rustic folk, who preferred a life of
toil to debates in the assembly or to the lucrative and
iujmious idleness of the courts. Aristophanes appears to have
loved these people, the guardians of pure Athenian tradition,
very sincerely, to the very end of his life, and through
various trials and revolutions. Only, that in his youth he
loved them not merely for their good qualities but also for

184 LAST PERIOD

their happy disposition, for their light-heartedness, their fond-
ness for holidays and pleasure, their artless malice, and that he
hated those who appeared to him to be trying to change their
good nature. Later on, when he saw them ruined, humiliated,
and embittered, there was less joy in his love. In the Lysis-
trata and in the Frogs his chief object is to allay the hatred
which he feels is growing more intense, and beneath all his
merry conceits we seem to see this task cast a shadow of
sadness over him. The Ecclesiazusae and the Plutus reveal
still another phase of the same feeling — a secret desire to
escape from a painful reality, or, in default of any quite
definite hope, to impart to it, as far as he may, something at
least of the nature of a dream, with the privilege of laughing
at it the next moment.

It was Aristophanes' misfortune that events went against
his natural tendencies. Had Athens grown mighty and
prosperous at the same rate at which his genius unfolded, it is
likely that his art would have risen to heights which it was
kept from attaining. The type of comedy which he had
realized in his Knights and his Frogs lent itself to further
development. Let us suppose for a moment that Pericles had
lived long enough to assure his country of victory and to
select his successor. Would not political comedy have played
a brilliant part in this great city, after it had become the most
prominent in Greece and had been obliged to adapt its
institutions to the new part it was destined to play ?

Aristophanes, who was by no means hostile to the
democracy, but who was so keenly alive to its inherent
dangers, and saw its shortcomings so clearly, would have been
able to employ his genius to warn it and, to a certain degree,
to set it right. His natural bent would, no doubt, have been
to point out, with his clear perception and his frank fearless-
ness, the elements of anarchy which manifested themselves
therein, and which destroyed its effectiveness. Directly or
indirectly, he would have recommended what might be called
" ideas of government." And perhaps in this controversy he
would not have been able to free himself entirely from certain
prejudices against city life and its necessary outgrowths. Very

LAST PERIOD 185

few men, as they grow old, are able to rid themselves of the
deep-seated prejudices of their youth. But there was so much
fairness in his views, regarded as a whole, that even such part
of them as were mistaken did not constitute too large a factor
of error. On the whole, we must regret that the natural
evolution of political comedy should thus have been prematurely
checked in the hands of the greatest poet that ever pro-
duced it.

Apart from this regret, what shall we set down as our final
idea of the part Aristophanes played in politics ?

The essential point is not to regard him as a party-man.
The substance of his political attitude was rather a sentiment,
in part instinctive, than a conviction. The chief basis of this
sentiment was a conception of Athenian character and of
Athenian society which might have been formulated somewhat
as follows: kindliness in manners, joy in freedom from restraint,
ease of approach, attachment to ancient customs, respect for the
farmer's work, preservation of the family spirit, keen and lively
affection for the fields, for the rural deme, where life was easier
and more wholesome ; and, with all this, great interest in social
gatherings, in celebrations, in art itself, as the spontaneous
expression of either a happy or a lofty ideal ; and, on the other
liand, pronounced aversion to sterile ambition, to unfeeling and
malicious selfishness, as well as to purely intellectual curiosity,
whether legitimate or otherwise.

This conception gave Aristophanes' patriotism its special,
and sometimes aggressive, character. He loved Athens in-
tensely ; he hated those whom he accused of corrupting and
ruining her, as though they were his personal enemies.
Convinced that they were spreading and fostering hatred
among her citizens within her walls, it was really harmony,
good-will, and mutual confidence whose cause he defended
against their attacks with bitter vehemence, and, it must be
admitted, without scruples or fairness. The more this harmony
was jeopardized in his eyes, the more resolutely did he come
to its rescue. The Lysistrata and the Frogs bear testimony to
the great hold this task had taken upon him in the latter part
of his life. In foreign affairs, he was no less keenly desirous

186 LAST PERIOD

of peace among the Greeks. We have no means of determin-
ing by what sacrifices he would have been willing to attain it,
especially as he himself may possibly never have been quite
clear about it. His rather vague ideal seems to have been
that of a fair settlement between Athens and her allies and of
an agreement with Sparta, based on mutual good-will. As he
was not a statesman, he did not attempt to state exact terms,
but in his heart he had a very intense Hellenic sentiment, that
made him alive to the fatal nature of those fratricidal wars
which paved the way for the ruin of Greece. The mad
internecine struggle, under the very eyes of the enemy who
rejoiced at it, appeared to him as the worst of all evils, and it
was in their quality as advocates of the war that Cleon and
the other demagogues inspired him with especial horror.

These sentiments, be it well understood, were not peculiar to
Aristophanes. "We meet them variously blended and in varying
degrees in many men of that time, and, of course, they were
the food and substance of party politics. As a consequence,
when Aristophanes gave expression to these sentiments in his
comedies, he necessarily joined hands with those who shared
them and those who made use of them. Thence arose certain
passing affiliations which might mislead us, were we not on our
guard. A priori it must appear improbable that so spontaneous,
so vigorous, and so original a genius should, so to speak, have
lived on the suggestions of others. Such an hypothesis could
only be admitted if supported by decisive proofs. But not
only do we lack such proofs, but the facts, when closely
examined, afford us evidence of quite the contrary. In each
of the great poet's plays we have found, together with a
personal conception of facts, a freely chosen purpose, which
seems to have sprung directly from current events and from
his own decided opinions. And therefore he alone must be
held responsible for his unfairness and for his prejudices, and
get credit for certain views as truly large and generous as they
are far-sighted.

d

INDEX

Achamiaiis, The:

Aegina, question as to reference to,

8 n.*
Babylonians referred to in, 40-1 ;

supposed reference, 43-4.
Cleon's attack on Aristophanes

referred to in, 46.
Date of, 52.

Dramatis personae of, 54-5.
Estimate of, xvi.
"Five talents" reference in, 43-4,

52-3 and n}
Idea of, xiii, xv, 54-60, 87.
Tetralogy, satirical, place in, 109.
Aegospotami, xiii, 160, 163.
Aeolosicon, 164.

Aeschylus, estimate of, xi ; popu-
larity of, with Athenian rural
democracy, 7 ; The Frogs as con-
cerned with, 150-2, 154, 159-62.
Agis, 163.

Agyrrhius, xiii, 150, 169, 182.
Alcibiades, The Frogs as concerned
with, 159-61; estimate of, 159-60;
otherwise mentioned, 9 n.^, 116,
117, 127, 128, 135, 138, 142,
147.
Ameipsias, 101.
Andocides cited, 156 and n.^
Androeles, 116.
Antiochus, 148.
Antiphon, 16, 66 n., 95.
Archedemus, 150.
Archilochus, 118.
Archinus, 150.
Arginusae, xii, 148, 150.
Aristophanes :

Career, chronological sequence of :
Childhood, 9-10 ; social surround-
ings in early life, 11, 13; pro-
duction of The Banqueters (427),
30; of The Babylonians (426),
35, 39 ; attacked by Cleon, 45-6,

49-51 ; production of The Achar-
nians (425), 52 ; collaboration
with Eupolis in The Knights. 72 ;
production of The Knights (424),
61 ; second suit brought by Cleon,
49-50, 89-92 and n. ; writing of
The Clouds, 93 ; production of
The Peace (421), 110; of The
Birds (414), 115; of Lysistrata
and of The Thesmophoriazusae
(411), 131, 143; of The Frogs
(405), 147 ; of The Ecclesiazusae
(392), 165 ; of Plutus (388), 177.
Characteristics of :

Capricious playfulness and exu-
berant fancy, 16.
Dialectical skill, xvi.
Effects rather than causes, pre-
occupation with, 34.
Elusiveness, xi.

Frankness and fearlessness, 184.
Gaiety and vivacity, 26.
Hellenic and Athenian sentiment,

strength of, 114, 186.
Originality and vigour of genius,

186.
Patriotism, 26-7, 185.
Perspicacity, 152, 184.
Philosophic bent, 30 and n.^ ;

hatred of philosophy, 99.
Rural pursuits, familiaritj' with,

and predilection for, 9-10.
Spontaneity of imagination, 18,
186.
Comedies of {see also their titles) :
Collaboration in writing of, 30, 72.
Composition of, circumstances of,

49.
Number of, existing, ix.
Personality of poet reproduced in

characters of, 128.
Production of, under others'
names, 47-8, 92 n.

188

INDEX

Aristophanes — Comedies of :

Satirical foundation in, erroneous
view as to necessity of, 120-1.
Democracy, attitude towards, 57,

109-10, 163, 177, 181, 183-4.
Independence of, from party ties,
10, 17, 18, 27, 34, 113, 138, 141,
155, 185, 186.
Interpretations of pixrpose of,

various, xi-xv.
Naturalization of, question as to, 8.
Oligarchical party, relations with,

15-18, 95-6, 110, 113, 130, 137.
Parentage of, question as to, 8.
Philosophy, attitude towards, 30

and n.^, 99.
Political ideal of, 163; later atti-
tude towards politics, 183.
Aristotle :

Constitution of Athens quoted, 23 ;

cited, 50 n.^, 103 and jm.S'^
Politics quoted, 87 n.i ; cited, 103.
Athenians :

Characteristics of :

Aristophanes' view of, 184, 185.
Incoherency, 169.
Individualism, growth of, 153-4.
Thucydides' definition of, 25-6.
Utopian dreams, attitude towards,
171.
Local cults of, 3, 5.
Athens :

Accusations, bringing of, 21, 23-4,
102, 107, 109, 148, 155 and n.^;
political trials (415), 122.
Alliances of :

Persia and Cyprus, with, 168,

169.
Thebes, Corinth, and Argos, with
(395), 166 71., 167, 169.
Allies of :

Autonomy, sense of, strong in,

143.
Babylonians as concerned with,

40-2, 61.
Defections among (428-7), 35 ;

(412), 132-3, 142.
Policy towards, 35-9, 142 ; Aris-
tophanes' attitude towards
policy, 41.
Tribute paid by — proposed reduc-
tion of, 52-3; increase of, 62,
75 vi.2
Aristocracy of, see Oligarchical

party.
Assemblies, payment for attendance

at, 169.
City proper, conditions of life
among inhabitants of, 4.

Athens :

Citizenship of, 90 a7id n. ; curtail-
ment of civic rights [dn/xla),
156-7 and n.
Demes :

Institution of, 4.
Registry in a deme not implying
residence there, 9 and n.^
Democracy, see that title.
Dionysiac festival, 6 and n.^, 7.
Downfall of :

Events tending to, 148, 160 and

n.\ 163.
Political conditions subsequent
to, 164.
Five Thousand, government of the,

147, 161.
Heliasts (see also sub-heading Law-
courts) :
Pay of, increase in, 62, 102.
Status and functions of, 101-2.
Wasps as concerned with, 104-7.
Hermae affair (415), 121.
Hetaeries :

Comedy not in league with, 17.
Composition of, 1.37 and n.^
Platform of, 68, 103.
Knights, position and achieve-
ments of, 70-1.
Law-courts, organisation of, in fifth
century, xiv, 101-2 ; suggested
reforms of, 103. {See also sub-
heading Heliasts. )
Leuaean festival, 6-7.
Mysteries affair (415), 121-2.
Naucraries, abolition of, 4.
Oligarchical party, see that title.
Peloponnesian War, see that title.
Persian alliance against (412), 132-3.
Persian alliance with, 168, 169.
Piraeus, inhabitants of :
Cleon's relations with, 24.
Conditions of life among, 3.
Political parties in, see Democracy

and Oligarchical party.
Politicians, professional, moral per-
verseness of, pilloried in The
Banqueters, 34.
Probouloi :
Allusion to, alleged, in Thesmo-

phoriazusae, 146.
Creation of, 132.
Oligarchical proclivities of, 137.
Reverses and difficulties of (408-
406), 148; desperate courage in
faceof disasters (413-404), 152-3.
Sicilian expedition, see that title.
Society of :

Constituents of, 12, 15-17.

I

INDEX

189

Athens — Society of :
Estimate of, 12.
Evidence as to, 12-13.
Gossip rife in, 13-14, 18.
Sparta, wars with, xii-xiii, 147-50,
160, 163, 167-8. (.S'ee also
Peloponnesian War.)
Thirty, tyranny of the, 137, 164.
Trials, political (415), 122.
Autolycus (Eupolis), 117.

Bahylonians, The :

Callistratus' production of, 44, 46-8.

Date of, 35, 39.

Events during composition of, 35-9.

Idea of, 42, 61.

Nature of, 35, 40.

Tetralog3% satirical, place in, 109.
Banqueters, The:

Callistratus responsible for, 30, 47-8.

Clouds compared with, 94.

Date of, 30.

Idea and characters of, 31-5.
Baptae (Eupolis), 117.
Bekker — Anecdota cited, 177 n.
Bemhardy cited, 126 n.
Birds, The:

Date of, 115.

Democracy, attitude towards, 124
and n."

Estimates of, differences of critical
opinion in regard to, 119-20, 124,
126 and n., 127.

Imagination supreme in, 130.

Irreligious spirit in, alleged, 128-9.

Peithetairus, character of, 123-5,
127-8, 130.

Plot of, 121, 123-5. 128, 130.
Browning, R., quoted, xii.
Bursian cited, 120?i.\ 127 ti.-*
Busolt cited, 5 and n.^, 20 n^, 53 n.^,
66 n., 143 n.^, 147 n.*; quoted,
146 n:\ 160 7i.i

Callias (son of Hypponicus), 117.
Callistratus, Banqueters performed

under name of, 30, 47-8 ; also

Bahylonians, 44, 46-8 ; also Ach-

arnians, 8.
Charondas, laws of, 103.
Chios, defection of, from Athens, 132,

142.
Cimon, 15, 19.
Clazonienae, defection of, from Athens,

132.
Cleisthenes' reforms, 4, 15.
Cleon, career of, 20-2, 64 ; on the

Mytilenean affair, 23 nJ, 36-7,

39 ; The Bahylonians as concerned

with, 41-5 ; affair of the five
talents, 43, 52-3 and n.'^ ; adopts
punitive measures against Aristo-
phanes, 45-6,49-51 ; opposes peace
with Sparta, 54, 63 ; a second
time chosen senator (425), 62 ;
leads successful assault on Pylus,
63-4 ; The Knights as concerned
with, 77-83 ; second suit against
Aristophanes, xiii, 49-50, 89-92 ;
chosen general, 93 ; The Wa^s
as concerned with, 101, 104-5 ;
The Frogs as concerned with, 150 ;
death of, 110; characteristics of,
20, 22, 28 nJ; insolence, 75;
policy and methods of, 22-5 ;
policy detested, 25, 72 ; anti-
democratic doctrine inspired by
opposition to, 64-5 : Aristophanes'
attitude towards, xiii, 20, 25, 44,
87, 91-2, 101, 111-13, 186; esti-
mates of, 20n.\ 64; by Thucy-
dides, 22 ; by Aristotle, 23 ;
attempted rehabilitation of, xiii.
Cleonj'mos, 75 and n.^
Cleophon, xiii, 14:8-50 and n., 161.
Cleophon (Plato), 149.
Clouds, The:

Aristophanes' estimate of, 99-100,
116.

Banqueters compared with, 94.

Cleon referred to in, 93.

Failure of, 99-101.

Idea of, 94.

Plot of, 93-4.

Socrates as referred to in, 93-5, 129.

Substituted passage in (?418), 116
and n.^
Cnidus, 168.
Cocalos, 164.

Comedy, Athenian (see also Aristo-
plianes — Comedies) :

Change in, after Peloponnesian
War, 118.

Choice of, authority responsible for,
19 7iJ, 30, 47.

Choruses for, furnishing of , 18, 19;i.^

Content of, 11.

Form of, 77 n."^

Kinds of, 118, 120.

Nature of, 43.

"Organ of a partj'" theor}' as to,

l0 7l.\ 19 7t.=*

Origin of, 1.
Popularitj'^ of, 7, 51.
Production of, method of, 30.
Specialists in, 11-12.
Syracosius'decree restraining license
of, 118-19 andnn.

190

INDEX

Conon, 148, 168.

Coronea, 167.

Couat, Auguste — Aristophane et
I'ancienne Comidie attique, esti-
mate of, x; cited, xvi, 15 n.^,
165 n.^

Cratinus, 19, 29, 40, 101, 112.

Curtius — Greek History cited, 116 7k^

119 n. 2, 120 n.^
Cyzieus, xiii, 147.

Deceleia, fortification of, 128,
Delos, confederacy of, 139.
Z)e»ies (Eupolis), 118 ?i.
Democracy, Athenian :
Absolutism of, 106.
Aristophanes' attitude towards,
109-10, 184. (See also under sub-
heading Rural. )
2?zVc?s as concerned with, 124 and w.^
Groups of, 2-4, 19.
Knights as concerned with, 68-9,

75-7.
Oligarchical view of, 16, 65-8,

8H-5.
Political condition of (422-414),

116.
Restoration of government of (410),

147.
Rural :

Aristophanes' attitude towards,

57, 163, 177, 181, 183-4.
Characteristics of, 94 ; conser-
vatism, 4-5.
Conditions of life among, 2-3, 5-6.
Oligarchy, relations with, 5n.^
Peace with Sparta, attitude to-
wards, 111.
Political assemblies, aloofness

from, 6.
Political organisation, lack of, 10.
Urban :
City proper, conditions of life

among inhabitants of, 4.
Piraeus, at :

Cleon's relations with, 24.
Conditions of life among, 3.
Demosthenes (Athenian general), 62-

3, 77.
Demosthenes (orator) cited, 154.
Demostratus, 116.
Denis, J. — La Comidie grecque cited,

120 ?m., 126 n.
Dicaearchus cited, 155 and n.^
Didymus cited, 135.

Diodotus (son of Eucrates), 36-7, 39,

45.
Dionysiac festival, 6 andn.^, 7.
Dittenberger cited, 41 ?i.*

Ecclesiazusae :

Character of, 165, 170-7, 183.
Date of, 165.

Lysistrata compared with, 166-7.
Plato in relation to, 172, Hi: and n.^
Plot of, 166, 168-76.
Ephialtes, reforms of, 15.
Epicureanism, 154.
Erythraea, defection of, from Athens,

132.
Eupolis, Aristophanes' collaboration
with, 72, 76; plays by, 92 n.,
118 71. ; bitterness of satire by,
116 and n.^, 117.
Euripides :

Frogs as concerned with, 150-2,

154, 159-62.
Orestes quoted, 5.
Popularity of, xiv ; unpopularity

with rural democracy, 7.
Suppliants quoted, 4 n.
Thesmophoriazusae as concerned

with, 143-4.
mentioned, xi.

Flatterers (Eupolis), 117.
Fritzsehe cited, 42 Jt."
Frogs, The:

Alcibiades alluded to in, 159-61.

Chorus of, 155.

Date of, 147.

Euripides and Aeschylus as por-
trayed in, 150-2, 154, 159-62.

Object of, 184, 185.

Parabasis of, 154-5 and n.^

Practical counsels of, 154-9.

Tone of, 148.

Gilbert, G. — Beitrage cited, 19 n.^,
118 71., 120 71.S 135 71.2, 155 71.3,

156 71.2

Gorgias, 128, 130.
Grote cited, xii.

Haliartus, 167.
Harpocration cited, 50 nn.
Hellenic sentiment, 138-9, 163, 186.
Heracleides Pontius cited, 20 ?i.*
Hermippus, 40, 112 ; bitterness of

satire by, \\%andn.^ ; quoted, 21.
Hermit (Phrynichus), 118, 119, 122.
Herodotus quoted, 65.
Hyperbolus, xiii, 75, 116 and n.^, 117,

150.
Hyperhohis (V\a,to), \\%n.

Idomeneus cited, 21 7i.*
Isocrates cited, 6 n.^

INDEX

191

Knights, The:

Chorus of, 70-5.

Date of, 61.

Dramatis personae of, 76-7, 82-7.

Estimate of, 62.

Idea of, 61.

Opening incident of, 122.

Plot and action of, 69, 73-4, 76,
78-86.

Political reforms sketched in, 86-7.

Prize allotted to, 88.

Second parabasis of, 72, 75.

Tetralogy, satirical, place in, 109.
Kock, K., cited, 117 ».S 126?!., 177 ?^.
Koechly cited, 124.

Lamachus, 54.

Lenaean festival, 6-7.

Lesbos, secessions of, from Athens,

35, 133, 142.
Lysander, xiii, 148, 163, 167.
Lysias cited, 148 n.^
lyysistrata :
Date of, 131.
Dramatis personae of, 134, 137,

1.39-40.
Ecdesiazusae compared with, 166-7.
Estimate of, xvi.
Events during composition of, 131-3,

141.
Idea of, 133-4 ; pervading spirit of
fraternity, 138, 141, 143; ques-
tion as to appropriateness of
peace advocacy, 142-3.
Object of, xiii, 184, 185.
Peace compared with, 139.
Plot of, 134-8, 140-1.

Maricas (Eupolis), 116?i.S 117.
Mazon, P. — Essai sur la composition

des comedies d' Aristophane cited,

73 nJ
Merry, W. W. , cited, 46 n.^
Meyer, Ed., cited, 168 ?i.'
Mifetus, defection of, from Athens,

132, 142.
Muses (Phrynichus), 148.
Mytileneans, affair of the, 23 n.^, 35-9.

Nemea, 167.

Nicias, success of, at Pylus and
Sphacteria, 63 ; position of, after
Cleon's death, 110, 116; concludes
peace with Sparta, 110; reports
on Sicilian expedition, 127; Birds
as concerned with, 130; other-
wise mentioned, 16, 19, 71.

Xotium, 148.

Oligarchical party, Athenian :

Aristophanes' attitude towards, and

relations with, 15-18, 95-6, 110,

113, 130, 137.
Birds as concerned with, 130.
Cimon's leadership of, 15.
Constitution of, 14.
Democracy, attitude towards, 16,

65-8, 83-5 ; relations with rural

democracy, 5 and n.^
Four Hundred, government of, 147,

148, 155-7.
Hetairies composed of, 137.
Individualism originating with,

153-4.
Pamphleteering by, 16.
Political power, attitude towards,

96 ; activities after Cleon's death

(422-414), 116^7, 130.
Prohouloi of, 137.
Revolution by, 137.
Sophistry, attitude towards, 94-6.
Thirty, tyranny of the, 137, 164.
Orion quoted, 31 n.'^

Pamphilus, 182.
Patroclides, Decree of, 163 n.
Peace, The:

Date of, WO and n?
Hellenic sentiment in, 112, 139.
Lysistrata compared with, 139.
Object of, xiii.
Plot of, 111.
Peisander, xiii, 131, 135-6, 138.
Peisistratus, reforms of, 4.
j3^eloponnesian War :

Acharnians as concerned with,

56-60.
Advocates of —Athenian war party,

25, 54, 57, 63.
Aristophanes' attitude towards, 56,

59, 109, 111, 112.
Causes of, deep-seated, 59-60.
Conclusion of, 110 and n."^. 111.
Effects of, 112-13, 168, 177-8.
Intellectual intercourse during, 139.
Pericles, policy of, 161 ; democratic
reforms of, 15 ; law of, regulating
comedy (440), 51 ; opposition to,
towards end of his life, 14, 21 ;
slanders against, 14 and n. ;
comedians' attacks on, 112; death
of, 22 ; estimate of, by Thucy-
dides, 23 ; Acharnians aimed at,
57-8, 109 ; otherwise mentioned,
2, 71.
Pheidias, 14, 71.
Philip, 130.
Philippus (father of Aristophanes), 9.

192

INDEX

Phrynichus, 118, 119, 122, 135, 149.
Plato (philosopher) :

Ecclesiazusae in relation to, 172,

174 and n.^
Works of, cited, 153 ; Apology
quoted, 95 n. ; cited, 97 nn., 100 ;
Symposium cited, 13, 98.
Plato (playwright), 118 «., 149.
Plutarch — Pericles quoted, 14 ». ;

cited, 15-16, 21 7m. 2. 4
Pluttis (409-8), 177 n.
Plutus (388) :

Character of, 165, 177, 183.

Date of, 177.

Idea of, 181-2, 184.

Plot and dramatis personae of, 178-

81.
Poverty's argument in, 179, 181-2.
Poehlmann cited, 165 ?i.^ 171 ti.
Polemarchus, 41.

Political parties in Athens, see Demo-
cracy and Oligarchical party.
Politicians, professional Athenian,

perverseness of, 34.
Pseudo-Xenophon — Polity of the
Athenians cited, 16, 66-8, 85,
105-6; quoted, 50 7i.i, 102-3;
estimate of, 66 n., 67.
Pylus, occupation, defence, and storm
of, 62-4.

Samoa, 133, 135.

Sicilian expedition, xvi ; Athenian
attitude towards (415), 127 ; (413),
131; (411), 142.
Socrates :

Aristophanes' acquaintance with,
xvi ; his attitude towards, 98-9 ;
his attack on, in The Clouds,
93-4; harmlessnessof attack,'xiv.
Popular attitude towards, 97-100.
Teaching of, 96-7.
Xenophon's references to, 12-13.
Solon, achievements of laws of, 4 ;
democracy of, accepted by oli-
garchy, 15.
Sophists :

Aristocratic patronage of, 95-6.
Clouds attack on, 94.
Position of, unaffected by Aristo-
phanes, xiv.
Sophocles, 7.

Sparta :

Athenian wars with, xii-xiii, 147-
50, 160, 163, 167-8. (^-ee also
Peloponnesian War. )
Persian alliance with (412), 133.
Sphacteria, blockade of, 62-3.
Suidas quoted, 31 ?i.^
Syracosius, 118-19 a7id nn.

Telecleides, 19, 40, 112.
Theogeues cited, 9 n.
Theognis quoted, 65 and n.^
Theophrastus cited, 21 n.*
Theopompus cited, 20, 52-3.
Theramenes, 95, 116, 150.
Thesmophoriazusae :
Date of, 131, 143.
Idea of, 143-4.
Medes, allusion to, 144-5.
Prohoidoi, allusion to, 146.
Thucydides :

Cited— on Sicilian expedition, xvi,
127 ; on Cleon, 22 ; on Athenian
character and temperament, 25-6 ;
on Athenian individualism, 153 ;
on Mytilenean affair, 36 and nn.
Quoted — on habits of Athenian
rural democracy, 2-3 ; on the
peace with Sparta, 110; onHermae
and Mysteries afifairs, 121 ; on
Sicilian expedition, 132 ?i.^ ; on
government of the Five Thousand,
147.
Thucydides (son of Melesias), 14, 15,

21 71.2

van Leeuwen, J., cited, 92 ti., l(K)7i.

Wasps, The:
Cleon as referred to in, 91, 101,

104-5.
Date of, 101.
Idea of, 101, 109.
Plot of, 104-8.
Wilamowitz-Moellendorf — Aristoteles
und Athen cited, 145 and n.^

Xenophon, works of, cited, 153 ;
Memorabilia, 12-13, 97 ; Oecono-
micus, 12-13 ; Symposium, 12, 98,
102 ; Hellenica, 161 n.^ [See also
Pseudo-Xenophon. )

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