Skip to main content

Full text of "A history of music"

See other formats

)?'■.. .m 








^^ '^ .^"{T 




'- 'V 


;i^-.^H-^-- JK ^^ 

^i- A 


Do not write in this book or mark it with 
pen or pencil. Penalties are imposed by the 
Revised Laws of the Commonwealth of Mas- 
sachusetts, Chapter 208, Section 83. 


FORM NO. 609: 

3;I6.2e: 300M. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2011 with funding from 

Boston Public Library 








(The right of translation is rese7-ved.) 




BOOK II. {ConH?iued.) 




THE HINDUS. Page i. 

THE GREEKS. Page i6. 


THE GREEKS. {Continued). 

Page 352. 


THE GREEKS. (Continned). Page 456. 



All Excnrsiis on the Music of the Riiined Cities 

of Central America. PAGE 627. 

A Note on an Ancient Assyrian Instrjunent. Page 627. 


imh ~y\v mI<\\k PAGE 628. 


On the Numbers in the Tijnmis, PAGE 629. 

Appendix PAGE 633. 

BOOK II. {Continued). 





BOOK II. {continued). 





Now I will pursue the fortunes of Musk among 
our Aryan ancestors, and here will be the beginning 
of a consecutive narrative that will reach to our own 
times. For hitherto we have been unable to trace 
the story of a regular development by the light of 
actual history, but since we left the half-fledged art 
on the verge of Prehistoric times, we have done little 
more than pass from nation to nation, and set down 
the condition of music in the most flourishing periods 
of those nations, or with the most pronounced peculiarities 



which the national characters of each people impressed 
upon it ; in so doing, taking the path which seemed 
easiest and most obvious, and better still, following the 
traditional method of treatment which great musical 
historians of the past have all agreed to pursue, for 
they have all passed freely from one to the other of 
those ancient nations, without endeavouring to gather 
up the threads of any regular tale of development, 
and this is likewise the method which has been pursued 
in the last History ol Music that has appeared — that 
of A. Ambros. But they have all also put off this 
tale of development to a comparatively recent period, 
not beginning to find traces of the embryology of 
the Modern Art of Music, which we practise at 
present, until at the earliest the close of the Dark 
Ages of Europe, or the beginning of the Middle 
Ages. In this way it will be seen that they have 
treated the Greeks as they have treated other ancient 
nations, regarding them as the creators of a musical 
art distinct from our own, without all influence on 
or connection with that form of Music which we 
practise to-day. The present writer, however, believes 
that the Music of the Greeks was in all strictness 
the rudiments or seed from which Modern Music has 
sprung. And he thinks it possible to push back the 
investigation of these rudiments to a very remote 
period — to a period, that is to say, long before the 
time of the Greeks themselves, and that he can 
discover the earliest traces of these rudiments among 
those primitive Aryans who were the Greeks' ancestors 
and also our own. For having learnt by examining 
the music of savage nations that the first branch of 
the musical art to be accented and developed in the 
world was Rhythm, and that Melody and Harmony 
came much later to the birth, he imagines that he is 


face to face with a great law pervading the development 
of all Musics, and that the music of individual nations 
or individual races must necessarily pass through the 
same phases of growth as the Music of that general 
nation or race whose history we pick out from the 
ways and doings of modern savages, and whom we 
acknowledge as the Author and Creator of us all 
under the name of Primitive Man. And he thinks 
that when individual nations or races parted or 
separated themselves from the originally collective 
human stock, they did but work out over again under 
more complex surroundings the same problems which 
had been solved before in a state of simplicity, and 
that they solved them and still continue to solve 
them in much the same way as at first. In this way 
he believes, that had we sufficiency of materials for 
reconstructing the complete history of music among 
each of those ancient nations whom we have been 
considering in this Book, we should find that in each 
case there was a Rhythmic Period at the beginning, 
then a Melodic, and then a Harmonic Period, as 
these three periods went evenly off in that mythology 
of History which we call Prehistoric Times. But 
when we come to that particular branch of the human 
race to which we ourselves belong, and which was so 
much slower of ripening than the precocious Hamites, 
Semites, or Mongoloid families, and whose end is not 
yet, he fancies that by peering into its past, and 
treating the present as its bloom and lustre, he will 
be able to set forth the characteristics of what we 
may call the Rhythmic Period of Music in all its 
minuteness. For over and above the penchants and 
peculiarities of races, and the complete consummation 
of our three periods in the finished history of 
individual nations, whose life and death form separate 


chapters in our racial annals, the great law will be 
found operating on a large and magnified scale, if we 
set our foot on the present and take it as the climax 
of the united past. And the writer ventures to predict 
that if we examine the early days of that past by 
benefit of a contrast with modern times, we shall 
find that the centre of gravity then was on the 
Rhythm, as it is now on other things, and that men 
delighted in mere Rhythm more than we do, and 
looked more to find music in it. And this primitive 
joy in Rhythm we found exaggerated and overdone 
among those races we called the Pipe Races, and 
retained to the last as the chief subject matter of 
their Music, so that perhaps they represent the stand- 
point of stagnation ; but it passed off early, and in 
some cases entirely disappeared among the Lyre 
Races, as among the Hebrews, for instance, in whose 
case we see the evil effects of precociousness — for 
there is no merit in hastening on, if essential 
knowledge is slurred over by the way. And we found 
that, speaking broadly, the Pipe Races and the Lyre 
Races had each developed antagonistic styles of Music 
by reason of this variety of original groundwork. 
And now we shall find that the Aryans come between 
the two as mediators : who indeed are the rose of 
the world, for holding the two antagonistic elements 
in almost perfect balance, they epitomise the be'st 
features of both great wings of humanity. And seeing. 
as I say, that we are now at the beginning of a 
great order of nations, whose end is not yet, and 
who are all intimately connected as father to son 
and brother to brother, we can take up henceforth a 
regular historical tale, and recount the painful steps 
of progress, and the vicissitudes that attended the 
building of that beautiful art, which we see before us 


now as a wonderfully organised fabric. And we can 
tell the tale from the earliest times. For when we 
first get knowledge of the Aryans, they were in much 
the same phase of development as that in which we 
left Primitive Man in the L yre St age ; and though 
when we get our first glimpse of them our own 
immediate ancestors had by that time separated from 
the main stem, and so had the Greco-Italians, yet we 
can well judge of the precedent conditions before the 
separation by studying those who remained. For these, 
who afterwards branched off into the two great 
divisions of the Persians and the Hindus, were the 
stay-at-home brothers, and therefore preserved better 
than the adventurous emigrants the original lineaments 
of the family character. And when we first hear of 
them, I say, they were on the frontiers of India,i 
and lived in the simplicity of the patriarchal state.^ 
And the musical instrument which they used was 
called the Been or Vina.^ It was a lute of more 
highly developed form than that primitive Bin or 
Been, which we found was the ancient national 
instrument of the Mediterranean Races, for the flat 
board had by this time been considerably curved ; 
yet it was not curved as the Egyptians curved it, in 
the form of a bow ; it was curved not longways but 
broadways, so that it resembled the segment of a 

1 Whitney on the History of the Vedic Texts, in American Oriental 
Society's Journal, IV. 248. 

2 Langlois' Traduction du Rig Veda, I., pref. 10, 11, 

3 The Vina is mentioned several times in the Vedas. 


water pipe that has been cut in two. And the object 
of this curving was plainly to bring the strings more 
under the grasp of the fingers ; ^ for the Hindu 
lute players even at the present day have a great 
objection to stretching the hand much. Perhaps this 
is because they have never been taught to use the 
3rd finger of the hand, which is always a diflEicult 
finger to use ; for they play their lutes with the 
thumb and the ist, 2nd, and 4th fingers only,^ and so the 
hand gets to be very much contracted. If we may 
imagine that we have here a hint at the ancient 
custom of playing, we shall see why the Vina had 
its board bent. And then, after the board had been 
bent like this, in order probably to increase the 
volume of the sound another similar board was 
attached back to back underneath, and so the frame 
got to resemble a pole — this hollow pole furnishing 
an excellent sounding-board. And for a similar pur- 
pose two gourds were fastened, one at each end of 
the pole underneath, and each about as big as a 
football. These might seem to be much later additions; 
yet when we consider how many primitive forms 
survive in India to the present day, how the Hindu 
peasant uses now the selfsame wooden plough which 
the ancient Aryans used, the same bush harrow, the 
same carts and yokes, &c,, and how rude and simple 

1 Cf. the account given of the development of the Chinese Inte, which was 
probably an importation from the Aryans, in Amiot. VI. 52. Cf, La Borde's 
Essai sur la Musique, i. 140 for a more detailed account. 

2 An Extract from a letter of PVancis Fowke, Esq. In Asiatic Researches, 
I. 298. 

• tHE HINDUS. '^ 

are the forms of many of the musical instruments in 
use, for even pipes made out of uncut bones and 
drums out of logs have still retained their original 
form — it can surely be no hard matter to believe 
that the Vina we find to-day is essentially the same 
Vina which is mentioned in the Vedas.^ And I have 
mentioned the gourds, and now the length of the 
instrument must be mentioned ; and it was about 
half as long again as an ordinary walking stick, and 
was held over the left shoulder, which supported one 
end, while the other end rested on the right knee.^ 
And there are frets for the strings in the Modern 
Vina, and these may be later additions to the 
primitive form ; just as the number of strings has 
certainly been greatly increased since those ancient 
times we are writing of For there was no necessity 
then to have a large number of strings, for the 
instrument was mainly confined to its original use, 
to be the accompaniment or prelude to recitation. 
And besides, there was a certain barrier of sanctity 
thrown around it, which would forbid much change 
in its form, after once that form had set. For it 
was the chosen instrument of the Rishis, though 
whether they played it themselves or had it played 
by some attendant minstrel may admit conjecture. 
And these Rishis, when we shall have described them, 
will remind us of the bards and minstrels of the 
Hebrews, though how wide is the difference in reality 

1 Cf. the remarks in Adolph Pictet's Origines Indo-Eurepeennes, II. 475.- 

2 An Extract from a letter, &c., Asiatic Researches. I. 


between them ! For the Rishis were bards and poets 
like them, and were said to be under the special 
protection of Heaven. " Indra loved their songs ;" ^ 
"Agni bethought him of their friendship."^ They 
were " the sons of Agni," 3 ' the associates of the 
gods,' 4 " they conversed about sacred truths with the 
gods of old." 5 Nay, the reverence for their calling 
went higher than this ; for no greater praise could 
be given to the gods themselves than to call them 
by the name of " bard." Thus Agni whs a Rishi,^ 
and Indra was a Rishi,7 and " Varuna, who is the 
upholder of the worlds, and knows the secret and 
mysterious nature of the cows, Varuna is a rishi, and 
brings forth poetry, as the sky produces many forms. 
In him all Rishis abide, as the nave within a wheel."^ 
And I have said how wide is the difference between 
the rishis and the Hebrew bards, who at first sight 
seem so much alike. For they both were under the 
special protection of Heaven, and they both enjoyed 
untold reverence from the people at large. But then 
the difference begins ; and it is the eternal difference 
between the Aryan and the Semitic stocks. For the 
thoughts of the first were centred on the present, 
and the thoughts of the second were fixed on the 
future. The glory of the Semite was prophecy, but 
the glory of the Aryan was description. Thus the 
Aryans escaped that ecstasy and frenzy which some- 
times beset the Semitic bards, and became the 

I INIuir's Original Sanskrit Texts, III. 244, 2 lb. 3 lb. 246. 

4 I'b- 245- 5 lb. 6 lb. 251. 7 lb. 8 lb. 266. 


founders of that more tranquil form of human 
expression which we call Literature or Art.^ And 
it is plain how this difference of ethnic spirit would 
affect the Music of these ancient singers. For Music 
in its widest sense is but the outward form of verbal 
expression. Each sentence that we utter has its music. 
And it is plain that the artistic Aryans would be as 
clear and precise about the outward form of expression, 
as the vague, musing Semite would be negligent of 
it. The passion for form, which led those to revel 
in the beauty of visible nature, and the contempt of 
it, which made these pass it by and live in a 
spiritual world of their own conceiving, would be sure 
to reflect itself exactly in the style of expression 
which each made use of So the speech of the Semitic 
bards rolled out with its music vague and formless 
like their thoughts. But not so with the Aryan bards. 
And what their feelings were, we may learn from the 
tradition in the Vedas. " For Speech," says a verse 
in the Vedas, "was originally confused and meaning- 
less like the roar of the sea and undivided, till Indra 
divided Speech in the middle."^ It was a thing of 
nought to them, till it had been moulded and shaped 
by the power of Rhythm. In this way the power of 
Metre got to be exalted almost above poetry itself — 
the formative principle almost above the creative. And 
the power of Metre was not limited to human things, 
but was extended over nature itself. For " by the 
Jagati metre did Indra fix the waters in the sky."^ 

1 Cf. the remark of Burnouf in his Essai surle Veda. He goes so far as to 
say that the Aryans are the only Hterary race in humanity. 

2 Muir's Original Sanskrit Texts, HI. 213. 
.? Muir's Original Sanskrit Texts, HI. 276. 


And the knowledge of Metre was the greatest of all 
knowledges. For " there are a thousand times fifteen 
metres," says the Rig Veda, " and they extend as far as 
heaven and earth. A thousand times a thousand are 
their glorious manifestations. Speech is commensurate 
with devotion. And what sage knows the whole 
sertes of the metres ? who has attained devotional 
speech ? "^ 

Yet was this multitude of metres rather surmise 
than actual performance, for it took centuries to bring 
all the hidden secrets of Metre to light, and it was 
reserved for the Greeks to produce myriad variety, 
and to apply miraculous delicacy of execution. For 
the metres of the ancient Hindus are to the metres 
of the Greeks what the Cyclopean ruins of Mycenae 
are to a Doric temple. They are mammoth metres, 
that roll on to the crack of comprehension. From 
27 to 999 syllables in a line, says tradition.^ For 
men could not yet control the swell. 

And it was in this glory and bulk of metre that the 
Vedas were composed. And they are billows of verse 
twice, three times, four times, even six times as long 
as Hexameters. I will describe the effect of the 
Vedas on myself They intoxicate me with wind. 

Now it will be well to consider how these metres 
arose. And they arose as all metres do, from the 
Dance ; yet not from that wanton, capering dance, 
which is so likely to produce short, terse metres, as 
we have seen it so produce them among savage 
man. But they arose from the Slow Dance, or, as it 

1 lb. 277. 

2 Coldebrooke on Ancient Sanscrit & Pracrit Poetry, in Asiatic Researches, 


has been elegantly called, the Choral Movement of the 
Sacrifice.! Por they arose from the bosom of religion. 
And this Choral Movement, in its simplest form, was 
the wheeling and swaying of bodies round the turf 
altar, where the sacrifice to the Dawn was burning, 
while a Hymn was being sung all the while. And 
it is plain how the motions of the singers would 
affect the run of their song, for it must have taken 
its rhythm entirely from their motions, which were 
slow and solemn, and such, that is to say, as would 
develop long stretches of verse, often disproportionate 
indeed to the length of the Hymns themselves ; for 
the hymns were necessarily very short, for they were 
sung in that short interval which goes between dawn 
and sunrise.2 And the Hymn to the Goddess of the 
Dawn was commenced when the first streaks of light 
began to whiten the sky, and this must end before 
the sun appeared^ and the Hymn to the Sun must 
begin when the tip of his disc showed above the 
horizon, and be finished when the entire circle was 
visible in the sky.3 In this way it is pleasing to 
think how Nature herself had a hand in shaping the 
early forms of the Aryan Music ; and perhaps the 
restraint of brevity which Nature thus laid on the 
Hymn would lead to the generating of that, which 
the long rolling metres would much militate against 
— I mean, to the growth of a rude melody running 

1 This is the elegant expression of Emile Burnouf. 

2 E. Burnouf's Essai sur le Veda, p. 102. 

3 Le pretre s' est eveille avantlejour; entouie de sa famiHe il s'en rendu 
au lieu du sacrifice ; il a prepare la ceremonie ; le feu s'allume au frottement de 
deux pieces de bois. Cependant le soleir ne tardera pas a paraitre : deja les 
premieres lueur,s de I'aube ont commence a blanchir le ciel vers I'Orient, &c. 
E. Burnouf, Essai sur le Veda, p. 71-2. 


through the Hymn. For the repeated recital of any 
words in a metrical cast will insensibly lead to a 
loose repetition of the tones those words are said in ; 
and the fewer the words, the closer in all probability 
will be the repetition. In a long poem there will 
always be unavoidable variety, but in a short one there 
is a chance of exactitude. Yet it would be idle to 
speculate too minutely on this, and it will be better to 
consider that what Melody there was, was always more 
or less extemporised, and but little attended to ; for 
the best praise of the singer was " when he followed 
the path of the ancients with metres, with ritual forms, 
and according to the prescribed measures, like a 
charioteer seizing the reins.''^ Of tune or Melody we 
hear nothing : which indeed is but the grace and adorn- 
ment of music, and by no means its essential, being so 
to speak but the colouring or tricking up of an ante- 
cedent form. And it should seem that in these simple 
days the form alone was sufficient to satisfy all musical 

That which shared the honours with the Form was 
not the Melody, but the subject and substance, the 
words and sentiments, that is to say, of the Hymn 
itself For as yet the Musician was not separated from 
the Poet, nor does it seem that such a separation of 
functions was possible or even imaginable, until the 
Melody began to take the pas of the Form or Rhythm, 
which as we shall see was not for ages yet. In the 
meantime, then, we must conceive musicians as artists 
in words rather than in tones, who expressed, as poets 
do, the thoughts of their time, with greater beauty and 

I Muir's Original Sanskrit Texts, III. 279. 


with greater power than other men could, and whose 
specific musical gifts lay in moulding these words into 
plastic forms which delighted the ear. And it must 
ever amaze us to consider what great honour was paid 
these men, for we have seen how highly they were 
honoured, and how they were thought divine. And 
though much of this honour was due them as the 
composers of the hymns which formed so essential a 
part of the sacrifice, this alone would scarcely have 
sufficed to raise them above the rank of acolyths or 
humble attendants on the priestly function, instead of 
placing them immeasurably above it. And it seems 
that in considering this question we are on the brink 
of a great secret of the Aryan race, which has 
always been prone to set higher store on power and 
beauty than on holiness, and this is why those creators 
of beautiful forms and singers of beautiful words 
were placed above the saintly priests. They were 
divine ; but the priesthood was merely a minister on 
divinity.^ That sensuous race, which found its ecstasy 
of worship in adoring the bright blue sky, or watch- 
ing the glittering disc of the sun as it rose from 
the hills in the morning, or feasting their eyes on 

I Their words were the direct utterances of heaven (Muir's Original 
Sanskrit Texts, III. 252) ; sacrifices were made to them, ' offer to King Yama 
a most sweet oblation. Let this reverence be paid to the rishis born of old, 
who were the earHest guides ' (lb. 245) ; and they were raised to saints for what 
they had done (F. M. MueUer, History of Sanskrit Literature, p, 57.) The 
same claim to divine inspiration, though by that time it was only a claim and 
not practically admitted, is to be found among the Greek bards. Demodocus 
in the Odyssey ' was taught by the Muse or by Apollo '— r) ce ye M.ova' 

hBi^a^e Aiog iraiQ rj cte y' 'AttoXXwv. ' -A God had vouchsafed him his 

power of song'— r(^ yap pa Qebg irepi Swkev aoidrjv. 
And Hesiod in the same way : — 

Tov^e Se jue irpijTKJTa Geo! wpbg fxvBov 'ienrav, 

Movaai ^OXv/jnrid^eg, Kovpai Aibg aLyi6)(Oio. 


the sweeps of the rain clouds, the bright Maruts with 
their golden weapons, and all clothed in rain — those 
ancient Aryans, who rejoiced so in the beauties and 
pleasures of sheer existence, who could worship even 
the drink that intoxicates, for the fire and inspiration 
it gave them — I say, these men were from the first 
disposed to underrate that closing of the eyes and 
setting of the teeth, which are the signs of the 
Spiritual character, and to place on an immeasurably 
higher level the manifestation of strength which they 
found in the hero, or of beauty which they found 
in the artist. And of all arts or forms of expression 
the highest to them was the Art of Song, for Song 
was beautified Speech, and to Speech was due the 
preservation of the histories of those fair things 
which they adored ; which, indeed, but for the 
cunning of Language were dead and lifeless. Thus 
Speech was flung to Heaven, and was made to over- 
arch the Gods themselves. And hence arose the 
myth of the Word. . . 

„And it was said how in the beginning of all 
things was the Word, and how the Word walked in 
heaven before the Gods were there. And the Word 
speaks, " I am with the Rudras, the Vasus, the 
Adityas, the Vicwadevas. I carry Mithra and Varuna, 
Indra and Agni, the two Acwins. I carry the 
redoubtable Soma. I am queen and mistress of 
riches. I exist in all the worlds. I am wise. I am 
the Mother of all the Vedas.''^ For without Speech 
to tell the tale, where were the secret history of 
Heaven ? 

I Bumouf's Essai sur le Veda, The goddess Ysic (oi/'. Vox.) 

' la Sainte Parole,' \ t / 


So then the holy Word in earthly form, shaped 
and moulded by the cunning of man, was Song. 
And this is why the Singers were divine. 

And the subtlety of a later age added a pendant 
to this legend : how the Word escaped from heaven 
and got among the trees, and how her voice was 
ever after heard in the lutes that were fashioned 
from their wood.^ But this seems an unworthy and 
almost trivial addition to a mighty and widespread 
legend, which we have seen submitted to a new and 
totally different interpretation in that mystical period, 
which followed the wedding of the Aryan and Semitic 
minds. Yet nevertheless we will not reject this little 
pendant to the great myth, for it will be an additional 
suggestion to us, and as it were an undesigned 
coincidence, which will help to bring out all the more 
strongly the close connection between that myth and 
our art of Music. 

So then these ancient singers, or rishis, passed among 
the old Aryan tribes, and were held little short of 
divine. And they were under the special protection 
of Indra, and received reverence and honour from all 
the people. And the names of the seven great Rishis of 
India were Gotama, Bharadvaja, Vicvamitra, Jamadagni, 
Vasishtha, Kacyapa, and Atri.^ 

1 The story is told in Zimmer's Altindisches Leben. 

2 Zimmer's Altindisches Leben, p. 347. 



Very different was the estimation of the bard in 
those Ionian cities of Asia Minor where Homer sang. 
By this time many centuries had rolled by and had 
added sorrow and suffering to man's experience, and 
much destroyed that blithe conception of life which 
once had been. Then, too, new powers had arisen in 
the world and claimed men's homage ; the old era of 
art and song had fled before the clash of battle ; 
the Bardic Age had been followed by a Heroic Age, 
in which strength not Art was the object of man's 
reverence. And it was on the skirts of this Heroic 
Age that Homer lived, for I would willingly believe 
that he had seen Orchomenus before it was a ruin, 
and had passed through the gates of Mycenae. And 
he like the other minstrels of his time was poor and 
despised, and had to get his bread by singing at the 
banquets of the great, so that the complaint breaks from 
him, " There is nothing in all nature more miserable 
than a man,"^ 

Yet we know how he stifled and beat back this 
womanishness, and he hid himself in his glorious work, 

^ ov fjilv yug Ti TTOv lariv OL^vpi^repov avcpog 
Tj-avTwv oacra re yatav £7ri wveUi re kuI IpTTU, 


for he had undertaken to gather up and express a 
whole age in his single person ; and this he did, and 
he proceeded a greater hero than those he sang of. 
He himself was the king of men, not Agamemnon. 
And it is a matter of tradition that the lyre to 
which Homer sang his poems had but four strings, 
and it was called the ^6p/xiy^ or KiOapig, and it was 
customary to strike a few notes on this (popjuiy^ as a 
prelude to the song, but not to employ it during the 
song. And probably this practice of preluding on the 
lyre was but a graceful way of giving the note for 
the recitation that was to follow, for it was rather 
recitation than song, as we understand the term. Song, 
and the voice had the greatest freedom, rolling on 
majestic, and extemporising its tones and cadences to 
suit the nature of the subject. And the other minstrels 
of Homer's time sang short songs, or rhapsodies, as 
they were called, but Homer was the first who 
combined these short songs into one long poem. And 
I would willingly believe that he sang the Iliad and 
the Odyssey entire before he died, as we know they 
were sung in their entirety in later times, but with 
greater pomp. For in later times, as 1 say, the 
minstrels sat crowned with laurels and arrayed in 
gorgeous dresses, and the Iliad was sung in a red 
dress, and the Odyssey in a violet one. But he sang / 
them in a beggar's gown, much like his own Demodocus. y 
And a boy would lead him into the centre of the 
hall, and place him on a stool in the midst of the 
banqueters, and take down a lyre from a peg and 
place it in his hands. And he would run his fingers 
over the strings, and turn his sightless eyes heaven- 
wards, and begin to sing. Who were they that heard 
him ? For but to have heard his voice would render 
a man's name immortal. 



Now the voice of Homer rolled through the majesty 
of the Hexameter metre. And it is probable that the 
Hexameter had been elaborated and perfected long 
before his time, and he took the musical form which 
he found to hand. Looking back on the history of 
Greek Literature, there seems to be no time when the 
Hexameter was not. It is like a thing that has had 
no beginning. Yet it must have grown up like other 
things, and it must have had a beginning once. And 
we know that there were simpler forms of verse 
existent during the Heroic Age itself, and before the 
bards who followed the Heroic Age began to sing. 
There was the lalemus, the Scephrus, the Bormus 
the Lityerses, the Linus,i the Threnus, the Hymenseus,2 
and other similar songs, which were sung by the 
husbandmen at the cutting of the corn, or were sung 
at weddings and other occasions, and these, as I say, 
were couched in simple forms of verse and were in 
existence during the Heroic Age, and perhaps even 
before the Heroic Age. And I think we may lay our 
finger on the particular song among these from which 
the Hexameter metre was developed. And it was the 
oldest of them, the Linus, which is not only the oldest 
song of these, but is probably the oldest song in 
the civilised world, and may have been in being 
before the dispersal of the Mediterranean Races. For 
Herodotus heard the Linus in Egypt,^ and we have 
reason to believe that it is the same as the lament 
for Adonis, which Syrian virgins sang time out of 
mind in the mountains of Lebanon. And if we take 
the Linus to be the parent of the Hexameter, it will 
be in keeping with a great law in the History of 

I, II. XVIII. 570. 2. II. XVIII. 493. j^. II 


thf: greeks. 19 

Music, according to which the growth of musical 
forms proceeds by doubhng. For those who are familiar 
with Modern music will readily admit that the most 
recent forms of accompaniment and rhythm are simply 
the older forms doubled/ while these older forms were 
in their turn double of still older ones, until the most 
primitive element of the particular form is arrived at. 
In this way it will be found that the Hexameter is 
precisely the Linus doubled. For the metre of the 
Linus is_ww_ww__ 

h) Atv£ iraai deotrnv 
and the metre of the Hexameter is 

\J \J \J \J WW WW 

iy-^OQ o oil ^vx/afiat crx^^tv ifxire^ov ovBl fia\i^adai. 
And now we shall be able to understand the 
hard and fast law which governs the texture of the 
Hexameter. For in order to create a really new metre 
by this doubling, it was necessary not merely to repeat 
the Linus line twice over, but it was necessary to lock 
the two lines together in such a way that the ear would 
detect no break, but would immediately admit that it 
heard not two lines but one. And how was this done ? 
And it was done in the simplest possible way ; for by 
making the first line terminate in the middle of a word 

I. As in Piano Music for instance, which I am chiefly thinking of, the 
old Bass was 

:#: *-I^V 


— &c. 

find so on, 


and the second line begin with the ending of that word, 
it is plain that the break was most effectually bridged 
over. For there is no break here : — 

KJ W WW — — — — — \J \J 

owr£ rtv' e^-OTT-t-o-w V£Kpov ^aZ,^adai av-to-yu. 
for we could never pause at 

KJ \J — WW — 

ovre TLV i^-OTT-i-crw vek- 
which is the end of the first Linus line of the two, for 
we should be left hanging in mid air ; but we are 
compelled to hurry on to the final close, avwytt, before 
we can pronounce that we have heard a complete line. 
Now had this line been worded : — 

I^OTTtcra) Se re ve/CjOoO jjliv \aZ,i^aBai avijjjei 
it is plain that there would have been no hurrying on 
then, but if our ears had been accustomed to the Linus 
Metre, we should have heard two distinct lines, and we 
should have paused at veKpov \ for the end of one 
line, and avwytt | for the end of the other. 

WW — w w 

0) Atv£ wacFi Oioiaiv \ 

— WW w w _ _ 

t^-OTT-i-ao} 0£ r£ v^Kpov j 

— W W 

Hence arose the law that to form a perfect Hexameter, 
the third foot must end on the middle of a word. And 
by this means the two Linus lines were locked, and a 
new compound measure was developed from them. 
And this is what we call the law of the Caesura. 

So then the Hexameter is a compound measure, 
and is compounded by two Linus lines, and thus con- 
sists of two parts in every respect equal to each other. 
And the first part ends with the half word at the 


end of the 3rd foot, and the second with the end of 
the word at the end of the 6th foot. And this equaHty 
of the parts of . the verse is shared by the feet. P^or 

the feet are Dactyls, _ww, and Spondees, , and 

they each consist of two parts, each part exactly 
equal to the other, for two shorts, w w, are equal to 
one long, _. And we have seen these feet, or some- 
thing like them, already in existence among savage man, 
but, like so many other things in the world, although 
the seed was there but little use was made of it, and 
we find no conscious casting and moulding these feet 
into artistic forms such as we shall presently have to 
speak of. And these are feet which seem rather to 
have arisen from the Chant than from the Dance, or 
if from the Dance, from the Slow Dance, or perhaps 
the March, where both feet strike the ground in equal 
time. For the essence of the Quick Dance, if we re- 
member, was the Skip, where one foot remains on the 
ground much longer than the other. But these Dactyls 
and Spondees are composed of two perfectly equal parts 
being divided thus : — 

1st Part I 2nd Part 

for the Dactyl, | ist Part | 2nd Part 
and I _ I _ 

for the Spondee, and the ist part was called the Arsis, 
and the 2nd Part the Thesis, and they were in every 
respect equal to each other, in precisely the same way 
as the two parts of the complete verse which was 
composed of them were equal to each other. 

Now though we might be tempted to speculate on the 
cause of the duality which pervades both verse and 
feet, and which we shall have again and again to allude 
to as almost the mysterious secret of Musical Form, and 
might be inclined to refer it ultimately to the fact of 
the human body having two legs, and so deduce all 
forms of feet and metre from dancing, yet into this 


remote question we will not here enter, and if any form 
of verse or foot seems to have owed its development to 
the Chant or the Dance, we may be allowed to de- 
scribe it as a Ghant metre or a Dance metre accordingly, 
without stopping to inquire too minutely into its 
ultimate origin, which possibly were the same in both 

Now if we take these Hexameter feet, and express 
them by our musical equivalents, making j stand for _ 
and > stand for ^, we shall find that the Dactyl 

will go off into J J^J , and the Spondee into j j > 
and the whole Hexameter line into 


I f - ** ' I 1 1 ' I J ^ ^^ J J 
for since the Dactyl and the Spondee were in every 
respect equal to each other, it became the practice to 
admit of the freest possible interchange of them in all 
places of the line, except in the last two feet, and these 
two preserved the fixed close of the original Linus 
I ^ h i 1. Let us then bar these notes, and since 
_ w w _ _ in our Music we express every foot of 
metre by a bar j , the Hexameter barred will be — 


N ,<«»l I ^ Nf i k \\ \ 111 N Kl J J D 
^_ig_Li^_^_^_L_i^ ^__^_L_^ #_L.^ ^_^_L-^_*_J] 

and we shall find that it answers to that metre in our 

music which we call ^ time. And not only does the 

composition of the bars answer to our ^ time, but the 

accent in each bar is the same. For in ^ time there are 
two accents in each bar, a heavy one and a light one ; 
and so in each bar of the Hexameter there were two 
accents, a heavy one and a light one ; for each foot or 
bar as we call it was divided into two equal parts, the 


Arsis and the Thesis, and the Arsis was the heavy 
accent and the Thesis the light. So that we will now 
re -write the Hexameter with the addition of the Time 
Mark and the accents, and we shall find it 

2 ^ h Nl ^ N i»»| I i** ^1 1 1 I I K N.( I in 

And in this, as I said, the Voice was suffered to roll, 
free and uncontrolled, extemporising its cadences and 
inflections to suit the nature of its subject. And this 
was Greek Music in its infancy. And we may well 
admire how the ear could be satisfied with naked time, 
and never miss the absence of a melody, for the song 
the Sirens sang had it no more than Homer's music had, 
and yet was the magic of the world. And it should 
seem that the simple pleasure in listening to the natural 
inflections of a beautiful voice must have had much to 
do with it, and that there is something highly artificial 
in that studied arrangement of tones, which we call 
Melody, which the pure taste of those days led men to 
reject, or rather which they could never conceive. So 
with nothing but their own beautiful Voices to rely 
upon, and their inborn powers of dramatic recital, these 
ancient minstrels sang. And there would doubtless be 
every shade of dramatic power employed in their nar- 
rative. And the hurry and the roar of the battle when 
Hector leapt the battlements and burnt the ships, would 
be reflected in the sweep and rush of the recitation ; 
and their voices would rise to a wail as they recited the 
lament of Andromache. Then there were dramatic 
pauses at the pivot of the interest,^ and looks and 

I. As an instance of these dramatic pauses, take the hne in the iirst Odyssey 
TCI (^povitov fXvr\aTr\pui fx^dfi/XBVOg ao-tS' ^AOrfvriv. | where there 
is obviously a dramatic pause at the end of the line, and almost a start on the 
part of the reciter as he utters the two last words of it. Here then would the 


gestures. But all this was like the wind sweeping the 
sea, or the moon bursting from clouds, as natural and 
unstudied as the play of the elements. What pre- 
meditation there was, was spent not on the tones and 
the cadences of the voice, but on the metrical building 
up of the words. And the Metre became as wax in 
their hands, on which they might imprint strange forms. 
And they moulded it and fashioned it so as to procure 
an eternal variety, as we do our scale to-day. And 
having but two forms of foot, the Dactyl and the 
Spondee, they applied such art to their arrangement 
that instead of monotony there was produced the most 
inexhaustible variety, and a poem of many thousand 
lines like the Iliad, and all in the same Hexameter 
measure, could become a celestial symphony. Such great 
effects could they produce with little means. 

And let us take the opening of the Iliad, and see 
how this variety and beauty was secured. And 
firstly it was secured by the graceful arrangement of 
the feet. For let us consider tlie opening in detail, 
and we shall find that the feet are thus arranged : — 

pause come at the pivot of the interest, that is between this line and the next 
one, fir] d'tOvg TrpoOupoio, and such pauses as this are common in 
Homer. As another instance, take the introduction of Thetis and her sea 
nymphs in the i8th Iliad, where there is obviously a dramatic pause in the 
middle of the line— 

(r/XEpSaXsov §' wfiw^ev j aKOvcre St ttotviu fir]Tr]p. 
Abrupt changes of scene too, that is, different from this one which is only the 
legitimate continuation of the narrative, but such changes as the sudden change 
of scene m the 4th Odyssey, or those sudden changes in the later books of 
of the Odyssey, e. g. the 15th, would certainly necessitate a dramatic pause to 
precede them, I do not wish this dramatic pause to be confounded with the 
Rhetorical pause of which I shall speak later on. 



__ w w — vy.y — ... — — V-'^ _ w w 

uf vy — 

■•:!_ _ \j\j —:•'- — 


_ __ _ __ J-'— M w _ \j \j 

_______ >''l. WW — yj \J WW 

And in the first line the feet are so arranged in a 
beautiful simplicity, that from the 2nd half of the 
verse onwards they repeat syllable for syllable. 

And the second line contains a contrast to the 
first ; and the effect of this contrast on the ear might 
be expressed to the eye by drawing two triangles^ 
each of which has its vertex on the base of the other, 
thus : — 

— WW 



w w 


And the triangle, ABC, that has its vertex down- 
wards, is a Dactyl Triangle, and the triangle, D E F 
is a Spondee Triangle. And the ear feels much the 



same effect from the antithetic placing of the rhythms 
which the eye does from perusing the opposition of 
these two triangles. 

And in the third line the measure suddenly changes 
to a preponderance of spondees, for here he begins to 
detail the woes of the Greeks — TroXXcig S' i(l>Bifiovg 4^vx(ig 
"AtSt irpoiaipi.v — and the gravity of the Spondee becomes 
the theme. And the trio of spondees which open this 
line are made to taper off in the two following lines : — 
first 3, then 2, then i. 

and the weight which was thrown on us is thus 
gradually lightened — but not to be taken away 
altogether, for the spondee opening — so much in ac- 
cordance with the matter — is continued in the 6th and 
7th line, and also in the 8th and 9th, which we have 
not quoted. 

And in the 6th and 7th lines we may observe a 
repetition of the same rhythmical figure which we have 
expressed as the two triangles, only this time it occurs 
in a simoler form. 



And if we take the opening of the Odyssey in Hke 
manner we shall find similar things. And the opening 
of the Odyssey is as follows : — 


-WW — — — WW WW WW 

— WW — WW 


— WW — — — WW — WW WW 

^^ %J.\J «™,. — WW 

WW — WW _ 

— — — WW 

WW — WW 

WW — WW — WW 



WW — WW 

WW — WW — WW 

WW — WW — WW 


And the nervous vigour of the ist line will be found 
to be in pleasing contrast to the slothful majesty of 
the 3rd, and the 4th line to be a repetition of the 2nd. 
But what our ear follows most is the play of the 
spondee, which occurs much less frequently here than in 
the Iliad opening, and stands out in strong relief from 
the mass of Dactyls that surround it. And if we watch 
it, we shall find that the spondee which has made its 
first entry in the 2nd place in the second line, appears 
in the ist place in the 3rd line, and then back again 
in the 2nd place in the 4th line ; and in these three 
lines it forms a wedge amid files of Dactyls : — 

— WW 

WW — WW 

— WW 

WW — — — WW — WW — 

WW — — 

WW — — 

W — — 


And being thrown back, as 1 say, into the 2nd place in 
the 4th Hne, that is, the last of these three, the way 
is prepared for a fresh weighting of the verse, which is 
done by throwing the spondee into the middle and 
latter half of the line : — 

WW — — — — — — — WW — — 5- 

But this is only momentary, and is done doubtless for 
contrast to what is to follow. For in line 6. the spondee 
is at the beginning again : — 

— — — WW — — — WW — WW — — 

and the weight in the middle is lightened of all but 
one spondee. In line 7. even that spondee disappears, 
swept away in a torrent of dactyls which rush on 
without intermission to the end. And it will be seen 
that the close of the Iliad opening is much more staid 
and solemn than the close of the Odyssey opening. 
And we may well ask how this should be, since they 
both sing the destruction of men. And we shall find 
that the reason is this, that in the Iliad he sings the 
deaths of heroes, and in the Odyssey he sings the 
punishment of fools.^ 

By the arrangement of the feet then there was a 
plastic beauty and variety imprinted on the parts of the 
verse; but we have yet to consider how the grace of 
contour was given to the whole, for Greek verse pos- 
sesses a contour of sound no less beautiful and round 
than the contour of form we see in marble in Greek 

I For compare the difference : — 

— — — — — — — WW — WW- 

TToXXciQ S' '[(piOi/xoog ipv)(ag "At'St Trpdiaipev 
which gives the cue to the two concluding verses likewise ; and 


vi]Tnoi ot Kara /3ouc TTT^piovog rieXioio 
(Here Homer rouses himself, and you might almost fancy he was exulting in 
their doom) r^adiov.avrap o rolaiv a^etXero v6(JTifxov rj/Liap. 


sculpture. And this was given it by the Rhythm. 
For we must now begin to distinguish between Rhythm 
and Metre. For Metre is concerned with the separate 
parts of the verse, aud Rhythm with the entirety of the 
whole.i Metre is occupied with feet, and Rhythm with 
the relations and balance of those feet. And if we have 
called the foot a Bar, we may say that Metre is occupied 
with the Bar, but Rhythm is occupied with the Phrase. 
So it was by their phrasing then that they secured a 
firm and clear outline to what would else have been 
a flux of ever shifting sounds. And at the time we write 
of, the phrasing was eminently simple, and the epic 
line with its bold and simple rhythm is like the torso 
of some heroic figure. And therefore it speaks out, with 
a clearness that we shall never hear again, th^ 
mysterious secret of all Music. For let us take the 
ground phrasing of Epic poetry, and we shall find that 
the normal line consists of two phrases of equal 
length : — 

— \J W — \J \J — — — \J KJ — WW 

MrjViv aaSf, dm, Tlr] \ Xriia^efi) ^A^iXriog. 

' ^ h I h h I I I h h I h h i 

f ««0 S 9 « m m ««« ^ « ^ 

WW — WW — WW — WW — WW 

biq S' ot\v alyiaXto ttoXv \ f-irjx^^ KVfxa OaXacTcrrtg. 

WW — — — WW — WW 

0^ S -m « W « « «p W W W « 


^ cia^i^Hv Sf Tov pvSfxov fiirpov (pamv mq fiipog oXov 

Aristides Quintilianus, p. 49. (Meibomius.) Cf. also Marius Victorinus, 
2494. Quintilian, De Inst. Orat., VI. 4. Martianus Capella, p. 190, &c., &c. 

2. For the proofs of this phrasing of the Hexameter, see Westphal's 
Antike Rhythmik, p. 113, __ 


This then is the normal form of the Epic line, and 
it consists of two phrases of equal rhythm, which stand 
in the relation of Question and Answer, Subject and 
Predicate, or better, of Antecedent and Consequent Phrase- 
And herein is expressed as clear as day the grand secret 
of all Musical Form, that is, Duality ; which we have seen 
penetrating the Hexameter down to the very composi- 
tion of the feet, for each foot if we remember was 
similarly divisible, that is to say, into 2 equal parts, 
_ I w w and _ | _, and which has ever continued to 
be, as it ever will be, the ground principle of all 
Musical Form. For even the complex Musical Forms 
of the present day are found to be but extended sys- 
tems of Antecedent and Consequent Phrases, and the 
simpler forms are easily seen to be so. Phrases still 
go in pairs, the Antecedent is still followed by the Conse- 
quent, and strings of them make up the composition. 
And the great Sonata Form, which overshadowed 
Europe for centuries, was but a system of Antecedent 
and Consequent Subjects, each of the two subjects com- 
posed of groups of Antecedent and Consequent Phrases^ 
And the Fugue form which preceded it was built of 
Question and Reply, and had its Duality in like manner. 
So that we shall not be wrong if we admit that 
Duality is the secret principle of Music. And comparing 
Music with Sculpture, we shall say that the secret 
principle of Music is Duality. But of Sculpture it 
is Unity. And the harmony of Music is the harmony 
of Contrast, but the harmony of Sculpture is the harmony 
of Resemblance. 

And turning to the old Hexameter again, we shall 
be able to study the play of this principle in little. 
And if we ask how the Contrast between the two 
Phrases of the Hexameter was secured, we shall find 
that the possibility of it was secured by the feet of 


the 1st Phrase being left open, while the feet of the 
2nd Phrase were in a great measure fixed- And so 
though Homer sometimes writes : — 

— \J \J — \J \J — — |_WW _WW _ — 

he does not use that form so often as this other one, 

— WW — _ _ wwl — WW _ww 

*-"" — — — WW — Wwl — WW — WW 

^^ — — — — wwl — — — WW 

for his aim is to diversify the ist Phrase and make it 
contrast with the 2nd. 

But where he does use that first form 

— WW — WW — — I — WW — WW — — 

where both phrases have the same feet, how then is 
the contrast secured ? And it is then secured by the 
accent, which indeed runs through every tittle of the 
verse, and would be of itself sufficient to effectuate the 
contrast, even though the feet themselves were 
eternally the same. For by the play of accent, or, as 
it is called, by the Arsis and Thesis, even the equi- 
pollent spondee, , is made to offer d contrast 

between its two parts, for the first syllable of every 
spondee receives a heavy accent (the Arsis),' and the 
second syllable a light accent (the Thesis), which is 
indicated by the absence of any mark, thus : _'_. And 
this accentuation of the feet was, as I say, extended to 
the Phrases, and the first Phrase was much more 
highly emphasised than the other, and in this way was 
the contrast secured even though the feet were the 

And the ist was called the Arsis Phrase, and the 
2nd the Thesis Phrase, and they were emphasised 
thus : — 

Arsis Phrase. Thesis Phrase. 


Much greater then would the contrast be, when 
difference of feet was added to this difference of 

Wwl \J KJ — \J KJ — — 

And inside this rising and falling of the billow, there 
was the play of countless little waves, which rose to a 
head in the middle, and then sank into a trough again 
by the end. And we will expresss it thus : — 
Arsis Phrase. Thesis Phrase. 

\J KJ — KJ \J — WW — WW — WW 

And it will be seen that the height is reached at the 
3rd foot. And there is more emphasis at the beginning 
of the line, than at the end ; and this is in accordance 
with the nature of the Voice, which sinks at the end 
of a sentence. And seeing that if we tried to 
express the rise and fall of the Hexameter line, and 
also to express the duality of its parts, we could 
find no better figure to express it by than the 
for the first line rises and the 
line falls, and this duality of lines 
such a position are necessary to 
existence of the angle, and seeing 
the Hexameter line is a type of 
all Music, we may say that the Angle is to Music 
what the Curve is to Sculpture, and that the 
Angle expresses the Harmony of Contrast and 

the /\ Principle of Duality, which is the , secret 

princi- / \ pie of Music, while the Curve / ex- 
presses / \ the Harmony of Resemblance \ and 
the / \ Principle of Unity, which is the ,j secret 

principle of Sculpture, 


And now let us admire Homer's freedom of treat- 
ment, who having these ground principles to go upon, 
and hard and fast laws like these to observe, yet 
managed to diversify and infuse as much variety into 
the Rhythm as he infused into the Metre by the set- 
ting of the feet. For it would not have done for him 
to have used even the most beautiful thing to excess. 
And as a sculptor wrinkles up the folds of his 
drapery, and makes creases and puckers in it, only to 
make the grand sweep of the whole more striking to the 
eye, so does Homer break up the equal balance of the 
Rhythm into inequalities and ridges, so as to please 
the ear all the more when the sublime monotony 
begins again. And sometimes he breaks it into two 
unequal rhythms, the second a foot longer than the 
first : — 

( N t N 

\J \J — V^W — \J \J — \J \J 

BapcrficraQ /ndXa eiTTt OeoTrpoiriov o,ti oicrda. 

And sometimes this is reversed, and the first phrase 
is longer than the second : — 

— W KJ — WW — \J \J — — 

C(jj(T(i) TOi KprjTtipa TiTvypivov' apjvp^oQ of. 

f N f N 

\J \J — \J \J — WW — WW 

TraTTryvEV o' ap' eirura Kara ari^ag, avriKa c c-yvo). 
And sometimes he goes further than this, and by a 

I I am conscious that some objection may be taken to my showing here, 
for it may be said that there is no reason why such lines should not still be 
measured by the equal rhythm. But in this as in some other cases I have let 
my ear guide me, and have always found in reading the Iliad that some lines 
fall in my ear in broken phrases, of which these are two. And for others, cf. 
II, I. 161. XXIII. 485. V. 729. Od. I. b, 



bold violation of rule, he breaks up the rhythm into 
3 phrases instead of two : — 

( ^ ( \ ( N 

\j \j \j \J — \J \J — \J \J — \J \J , 

avrap 6 jurjvie vrjvm Trapi]fx^voq wKviropoiai. 

( ^ r~ ~> ( ^ 

WW WW — W W — WW — WW — — 

"EktOjOJ V rjp/xocr£ T^^yJ fTTt \poi, SO 0£ HIV "Apr]g. 

And then after this roughness of surface, how great 
is the pleasure of returning to equality again ! 

And let us take a very pronounced and extended 
instance of it, and feel this pleasure for ourselves : — 

Iliad XVII. line 91. 

Menelaiis speaks : — 

-^ ( N r 

— \J \J — — — \J \J WW WW 

li) p.01 iyw, £1 /xti' Ke X<'7r(t) Kara T£i)\ea KoXa 

( ^ ( ■ N r 

— — — — — \J \J — WW WW 

WarpoKkov 6^og Keirai t/urig evsK evda^e Tijirig, 

r — > ! ■ N 

— — — ^W — WW — WW — WW 

fX)] Tig /xoi AavaMv vsfxeanfT^rai og k£v i^r]Tai. 

r ^ f N f ~ — ■— N 

— W W — WW W W WW 

£1 Se (cev "EKTopt jJLOvvog lojv Koi Tpu)(n fxa\<jL)nai 

( ^1 ^ 

— — W W — WW 

aiO£(rp£ic, ixx] TTiog jue Trepigrdaxr eva ttoXXoi. 

— WW — — — w w — WW 

'^ ov\ofiivr]v rj juvpi ^A^atoTg aXye Wtjkev. And it will often 
be found that in this triple phrasing the feet in each phrase are the same. 
This is to make it stand out more. Od. I., 68, 9. 25, 29, 161 (where the dactyl 
and the spondee are inverted), IV. 448 is an admirable example of impressive 
Triple Rhythm, 



— WW — WW — WW — WW — 

Tpioag S' kvOa^e Travrag ayu KopvdaioXog "FiKvwp. 

Let us observe the beauty and the finish with 
which the phrases are worked off, and how gracefully 
they shade off into the ground form, which from hence 
rolls on regularly again. And perhaps this is a rhythm 
of hesitation and timidity, for Menelaus sees Hector 

And it is common for Homer to make feints at 
this triple rhythm and not to continue it, but to get 
back to the ground form by the middle of the line 
again : — 

II. XHI. 2. 

f ^ f ^ 

f ^ r 

WW — WW — w w WW WW 

Tovg jUEV ea, irapa rym ttovov t l^ijx^v Koi oiZ,vv. 

t N, t 

— \J \J — WW WW 

where rovg plv ea irapd followed by rym ttovov, so 
crisply as they abut against one another, make the ear 
expect a triple rhythm is coming through the line ; 
but this is broken by the solid welding together of 
the 4th and 5th foots, and the rhythm proceeds a 
regular double one. 

And so those two last lines in our former example, 
al^eaOsig, and Tpioag, seem as if they were about to 
proceed in triple rhythm 

— — w w 

WW — \J \J — WW WW 

Tpioag c Ivuace Travrag aysi KOpvOaioXog "EktwjO, 
but they too are only feints, and their particular object 


here is to cany off the Triple Rhythm easily into the 
Regular Form again. And this is the shading that I 
spoke about. 

Then too he has other arts for diversifying his rhythm, 
and this time without breaking the equality of it. For 
he makes abrupt pauses in the line, 


_ _ — — \j \j —. \j \j — \j \j 

vvv S' H/xi ip6ir}v8^' ETretrj iroXv (piprepov tortv. 

and he generally makes them in the middle of the 3rd 
foot, at the height of the emphasis, like a great horse 
rearing at the turn of the goal post. 

But sometimes he makes his pause at the ist foot. 

— WW — WW W W 

ipptTW. —a fxiv KHvog kiroTpyvai /cat avujyei. 

or take that noble one in the ist Iliad, 

aXKoiaiv Sri tuvt' iwiT^XXeo, }ii] yap e/noiye 
arjfxmv' ov yap gywy' en aoi TTtfcreo-^at oiw. 

And thus he expresses the scorn of Achilles. 

And he plays with the Emphasis as he does with 

Rhythm. For, as we said, the normal Emphasis of the 

Hexameter was : — 



or, to leave out the unemphatic accents, we may express 

— WW _ww _ww __ _ww 

I These are the Rhetorical Pauses which I have alluded to jn a previous 


which we should indicate thus perhaps, by musical marks, 

\J \J — \J \J — \J \J — WW — WW — 

And if we care to inquire into the reason of thi 
emphasis, which we have not hitherto done, we shall 
find that the height is reached in the 3rd foot because 
the Caesura occurs there. And 1 have described the 
law of the Caesura to be, that the 3rd foot should 
terminate in the middle of a word, in order to smooth 
over the joint between the two smaller lines of which 
the Hexameter was originally composed. And that this 
was the earliest form of the principle seems highly 
probable ; but from this, another and more perfect 
principle soon developed itself, namely, that this very 
word, whose middle was to come at the end of the 3rd 
foot, should likewise have its beginning in that foot, and 
particularly that its beginning should occur on the last 
half of that foot, so that at the very moment when the 
first Linus line reached its conclusion, a new word 
should commence, and thus wedge the 2nd Linus line 
into the first and dovetail them completely together. 
And it was to this commencing of a new word on the 
the second half of the third foot that the word Caesura 
was technically applied. And the emphasis reached its 
greatest volume in the first note of the 3rd foot, owing 
probably to the slight pause which would naturally 
come before the regularly recurring commencement of 
the new word which began on the 2nd note, 

f \( — > 

WW WW — WW — WW — — 

TH\OQ EvSjUrjrov I KavaxiZ^ 0£ covpara irvpycov. 
for it is impossible to read this line without an almost 


imperceptible pause on the first note of the 3rd foot, 
thus : — 



and it was owing to this sHght pause, as I take it, 

that the emphasis reached its height on the J which 

precedes it. 

And in the hne : — 

vvv S' ujfiL fpOirivd. Itthy) ttoXv ^iprepov iariv 

which we quoted above, we have seen Homer take ad- 
vantage of this for aesthetic ends. And he plays upon 
this emphasis, and varies it, and produces new variety 
and plastic moulding inside the plastic outline of the 
rhythms. And sometimes he makes a Caesura in the 
4th foot as well as the third, and thus prolongs the 
volume of the emphasis into the second phrase of 
the line ; and thus, instead of the exact equality of 
the normal line, we get : — 

— \J\J — \J KJ — I _ _ I ^ KJ — \J \J 

as in the line : — 

AvTUp ^A6r]vair} \ Kovpy] \ Aiog alyi6)(^oioJ 
And sometimes he takes quite a new form, on the 
analogy of this, and imitates this emphasis in two 
distant parts of the line : — 

vie Svw I JlpiajuLOLO rpirog \ S' ^v "Aaiog ripMQ. 

— \J \J ^ I \J \J — WW — I — — WW — — 

and here he merely locks the two simple parts of the 
Hexameter by the loosest of junctures, for he only begins 

I We cannot say, however, that this is always so, but our ear, which is in 
all cases the best judge, vill deteipiine it now one way, now another. 


the new word of the third foot on the last short 
syllable of the foot, instead of exactly in the middle 
of it, and this is probably to weaken the natural 
emphasis of the 3rd foot, and bring out the two 
artificial ones in the second and fourth foots more. 

And what shall we say of the emphasis in those 
strange lines of triple Rhythm, where the original 
rhythm is thrown into such strange patterns, and the 
two parts of the Hexameter so loosely locked together ? 
And it should seem that the emphasis in them is in 
accordance with the rhythm, and that we must write 

vrjvcn TraprifXBvog w-KV-Tro-pot-ai 

For this is his greatness, to weld all the resources of 
his art into harmonious wholes, and make them all 
reflect each other. And the Rhythm colours the 
Emphasis, and the Emphasis is reflected in the Accent 
of the feet, and the syllables sort themselves in music 
to harmonise with all. And all these things does the 
master mind use at once and to one end — and they 
are to him but the docile medium through which he 
expresses his beautiful thought. 

And to write a verse of Homer in full panoply, 
then, would be to bewilder the eye. For it bristles 
with expression, and we must ransack all the resources 
of the musical art to render it fully. But let us do 
.so, if only to see before us what can never be 
heard again. And let us take the first lines of the 
Iliad again, and render them completely by musical 
signs : — 


4' I )w 1^1 I \ )wl I I II I \ 1^1 I IW llt,l { I II 

fir\-VLV a - ct-Se B - m Ht] -\r} - ttt-S'- £w 'A)(;-t - Xrj - og 

I K M 1 I II I u \i I I II I r^ \i I I II 
ov - Xo-jiii - v») -V ?'/ jLiv -pi 'A\-ai -oTc aX -ji W -rj - K£ 

i III III I II I Is ;s I I IS Is I I I i> 

TToXXac S' 10 - 01 -/xovg \pv - )(ug ' AtS - St irp-o'i axpev 

I III III Nt Is II I \ \ I > S S I I * >i 
7jp - (u - wv au -roue Se I - Xw - yom rtu ~XK.^^ " vf-crcrtv 


Jt - w - voL-ai rt iraaC — At-o^ S' IrE-Xft-c-ro jiov^Xn} 


I II I II I 1^ IS II I III IS \l I I 11 

£^ ov drj TO, TTjOw-ra St - acr - r/j - tjjv e -pi - aa-VTi 

'Ar-|0£i - cr}g re av - Ul, av - cp(ov koL 01 - oc A - T^^tAXtwe- 

And if this seem manifold and great to us when 
we write it, what would it have seemed when he sung 
it? Oh! the heavens were open then. 

And there is much more to be said than this, if we 
would exhaust the secrets of his art. For we have not 
yet said how he communicates dignity and gravity to 
his verses by the use of a Spondee in the 5 th place 
instead of a Dactyl. This is what is called the Spondaic 
line, and he uses it, as I say, to communicate a 
solemn tone to the thought, for instance in the curse 
of Poseidon in the 14th Book,^ and he uses it to 
describe how dead heroes are dragged from the field 
of battle.2 And the peace of the pastoral life he 
expresses by the Spondaic line, the lowing of kine 
by the river, and the bleating of sheep in a valley.^ 

^ line 142. aXX 6 fx\v wg aTroXotro, Qihg Si k mcpXivaeie. 
^ II. XVIII. 54^' vaKpovg T aXXr]\(i)v epvov KaraTeOvHtorag. 
^ lb. Iv c ajiXy]v Trotrjcre (5omv opdoKpaipawv. Iv koX^^ 
/3rjt7cry fiiyav olwv apyevvawv, &C. 


And the verse seems to sleep beneath his touch. 
And this Spondaic hne is but an intensifying of the 
general spirit of repose which pervades all the Homeric 
poetry. For a verse where the arsis of every foot 
is equal to the thesis must always proceed at a 
stately and measured pace, and there can be no 
hurrying where there is a perfect equality in each 
step. And this is what secures that majestic calm 
which is spread all over the Iliad, for even in moments 
of agony and throbs of excitement there is no faltering 
or change, and he goes on his way like one un- 
ruffled by the cares of men. And this spirit of repose 
always remained the ideal of Greek Sculpture, and we 
find how the music of Homer expressed it. And in 
another way I have often thought to myself how much 
his art resembled the art of Pheidias, and that is in the 
simplicity of the means by which variety is secured. 
For that Panathenaic procession in the frieze of the 
Parthenon is like Homeric music cut in stone. For 
it consists of long lines of figures all so much alike, 
and yet we can never be done gazing on them, and 
are often tempted to wonder why, for it seems at 
first that when we have seen one we have seen all. 
But whoever looks closely at them shall find the cause 
of his delight to be a simple and sublime variety, 
like the variety of Nature, who made the forests with 
not one tree the same. For first come figures with 
their drapery plain, and those that follow have their 
drapery gathered into folds, and then the legs are 
bared, and then the upper part of the body, and then 
the whole naked body comes. And the verses of the 
Iliad are like the Athenian horsemen in the proces- 
sion. They are all alike, and yet they all are 

Such then was the state of Greek music when the 


Hexameter overarched the world. But henceforward 
for some little time our task is an unwelcome one, 
for we have to trace the breaking up of the 
Hexameter, and to say how meretricious elements in- 
sinuated themselves into the primitive simplicity of 
Epic recital, and became the cause of the Hexameter 
being enfeebled, and of its ultimate decay. And first 
of all we find a greater attention began to be paid 
to that instrumental prelude, which was used to usher 
in the recitation and as but a graceful way of giving 
the note to the voice. But now this trinket or adorn- 
ment of the song began to have greater attention 
paid it. And first of all its length would be extended 
and the bard would hang over it more, simply because 
he found it pleased his hearers. For we must now 
think of a softer age beginning, and the exploits of 
heroes would not awake such sympathy as they used 
to do. And the women wore more gold ornaments,^ 
and the trappings of the banquet were more splendid, 
and so the ornament of the song began to glitter 
brighter too. And first the prelude would extend in 
length, and then it would increase in intricacy, for the 
minstrels would soon see the advantage of making a 
favourable impression to commence with, till at last 
that which had once been of no account at ail began 
to assume an importance as great, or even greater 
than the song itself. And now we see signs of a great 
division in the minstrel ranks, and probably on this 
question of the prelude. And the sterner ones set 

1 The Helen of the Odysse)', who has 3 attendants to wait on her and such 
display of wealth in gold and silver, and who has learnt the use of opiates in 
Egypt, may perhaps be drawn from some of the luxurious dames whom 
Homer saw beginning to appear around him in his later years; 


themselves in reaction against the spirit of the time 
and dispensed with the prelude and the lyre altogether; 
but the gentler ones followed in the swim of the age, 
and went on developing and enhancing the prelude. 
And the first order of bards attained their climax 
under the poet, Hesiod, and they went about, as I 
say, simply reciting their poems, v/ith no lyre, but 
carrying a staff or an olive branch instead. And we 
must not follow their history, for it belongs rather to 
a history of poetry than a history of music. But we 
must follow the fortunes of the second order instead, 
who took the contrary course to these, and they went 
on heightening the charms of their music because it 
pleased, and drifting along in the current of the age, 
till at last there came one who fathomed the possi- 
bilities of the times, and set himself at the head of 
the movement. And his name was Terpander, and he 
was a native of Lesbos, which was now just begin- 
ning to be what it afterwards became, the centre of 
Greek civilisation and refinement. 

And finding the excesses into which the prelude 
was running, and that it was by this time a mere 
wanton sport with sound, he conceived the idea of 
chastening it and ennobling it by setting words to it, 
for that the instrument could not go very much astray 
when it was in company with the voice. And by the 
following means he gave the prelude a perfect raison 
d^etre, and impressed on it a clear artistic form : he 
separated the invocation of the gods, with which the 
recitation opened, from the body of the recitation 
itself, and made its words the words that were to be 
sung as the prelude. Than which nothing could have 
a more ennobling effect on the waywardness of the 
prelude, for while formerly it had been a mere show 
piece to exhibit the cunning of the player, it now 


became a kind of grace to the recitation that was to 

But although this reform of Terpander was a great 
and noble one, we must see in it signs of the break- 
ing up of the old Epic. For does not this separation 
of the invocation from the rest of the poem point 
clearly to such a breaking up? x^nd if we examine 
into the practice of the minstrels themselves, we shall 
find that this breaking off of the invocation by 
Terpander was but an additional tribute to a disin- 
tegration that had already commenced. For long 
before his time there had been a failure of originality 
among the minstrels, and they no longer made their 
own poems, but contented themselves with reciting the 
verses of Homer. And what is more, only portions 
of Homer, and they selected such portions probably 
as best suited their powers, and with these carefully 
rehearsed and prepared they entered the lists in those 
contests of minstrels, which we read of at Sicyon, 
Epidaurus, Troezen, and other places. So that it is 
plain how effectually the unity of the old Epic was 
broken up by these means. And there is another 
inference we may make from this, how greatly the 
popular conception of the minstrel had changed since 
Homer's time. For the minstrel was no longer the 
maker of poems, but simply the reciter of them ; and 
by consequence it was he who had the finest voice 
and the best style, who now received the prize. So 
that it seems we have now got to an age when the 
sound was more considered than the thought, the form 
than the substance. That is to say, there was Melody 
in the air ; and hence we may understand the success 
which attended the reform of Terpander, who joined 
words to the prelude which the Lyre had used 
to play alone, and thus enabled a beautiful melody 


to be sung before the commencement of the 

And the more the genius of the minstrel inclined 
him to this softness of expression, which is Melody, 
the greater pains would he bestow on the prelude. 
And the words of the prelude being, as we said, an 
invocation to some god, those whose genius lay that 
way would take advantage of the theme to introduce 
some anecdote or story about the exploits of the god, 
and so greatly lengthen the prelude. And it is 
probable that the opening which was here given en- 
couraged many of them to become makers and creators 
again, but they limited their invention to the prelude.^ 
And of these preludes we have many preserved to 
us, and some of them are short invocations of two 
or three lines or so, and others are much longer and 
contain an anecdote about the god. And probably 
the god that was to be invoked was determined by 
the place where the recitation was given, or if it 
were a contest, by the place where the contest was 
held.2 So that in an invocation to Ceres we may 
think of a contest of rhapsodists in Sicily, to 
Juno of one at Argos, to Venus in Cyprus, and 
so on. 

1 But that they certainly exercised their invention here we may learn from 
Plutarch, for he says, the rhapsodists to rrpbg Toiig dsovg wg (3o6XovTai 

a<l)Oaiu)(jafxevoi eig tI 'Oiid]pov ETrrj furi^-qrrav where Mg ^ovXovrai 

is a clear innuendo at this. 

2 The preludes many of them contain the words, r/jvSe aaoj iroXiv. 
Many of the so-called Homeric hymns are really preludes, as is easily seen 
from the constant termination, avrap Ijo) kol aeio Koi aX\r]g /uvriaofi 
aoi^iig, or the still more telling one, (rev S' kju) 'ap^juevog 
merapriaopai oAAov i^' vpvov. 


And now Terpander having learnt how to form 
melody from his practice in the prelude, proceeded 
to his next step, and this was to set the verses of 
the recitation which followed likewise to melody 
and cause them to be sung to an accompaniment 
of the lyre, which accompanied the voice note for 
note.i And sometimes it was the verses of Homer 
which he melodised, and sometimes his own.^ So that 
we may admire how short the recitation must have 
become before this was possible. 

And it was about this time in the life of Terpander. 
that he left Asia Minor and went to Greece. And 
possibly he went on a visit to the mother country of 
his native island to see some Boeotian kinsmen there. 
And being there he would naturally go to Delphi, 
for it is only 40 miles from Thebes, or little more 
than 20 from Orchomenus, and Parnassus is on the 
way. Or if we take the common account, he had to 
fly from Lesbos on account of some crime he had 
commmitted, and went to Delphi to find out how he 
might expiate it. But at any rate, whichever way 
we take it, we find him a short time after he had 
quitted Lesbos fully established at Delphi, where it 
appears he had entered the service of the priests as 
composer of music to the temple. And now begins 
the second great period of his life, in which he 

1 Plutarch — De Mus. 28, roiig 6 ^ap')(^aiovg iravraq irpoa^op^a 
KpovHV (i. e. TTjOO ^ Kp-^iX6\ov), We may set down Terpander's 
date at 780 B. C. Archilochus at about 685. Terpander indeed might go 
earlier still, Kai toIq ^^povoiq (T(j)odpd TraXaiog iari, say, 
Plutarch. But these two dates, as far as I remember, are the admirable 
calculations of Westphal. 

2 " Terpander, being a maker of tunes, set tunes to his own verses and also 
to Homer's." Plutarch, II. 3, 


carried through and brought to perfection that great 
innovation, to which all his efforts had hitherto been 
steadily pointing. Now for the first time we may 
give him the name of the Inventor of Melody, 
which is a name he hardly deserved before. For his 
joining words to the prelude of the lyre and his 
melodising the verses of Homer must be thought of 
as little more than teaching the voice to soar in 
beautiful tones, more than it had used to do ; and 
the source whence he derived his first idea of such a 
thing, namely, the extemporised prelude of the lyre, 
will show us how nearly connected his melodising 
was with extemporisation, being probably nothing else 
than it. But now for the first time and while in the 
service of the Delphian temple, he conceived the idea 
of forming definite tunes. And probably his practice 
in religious music would help him greatly to such a 
result. For the music that was used at Delphi was 
very slow and grave, as befitted the solemnity of the 
ceremonies. And the principal hymn that was sung 
was the Libation hymn, or Spondeiasmus, which was 
sung when the solemn libation was poured out to the 
god. And its name will give us an insight into 
its character. For the metrical foot called the spondee, 
which had probably some other name in these early 
ages, was afterwards called " Spondee," because it 
was invariably employed, to the exclusion of all others, 
in these solemn Libation Hymns, or Spondeiasmi, at 
Delphi. But the spondee of the Libation Hymn differed 
trom the ordinary spondee in this respect, that it was 
exactly double its length.^ And so the Libation Hymn 

proceeded in this way J J| J J | J J j J J |^^-' 
I Aristides Quinctilianus. 


instead of _J__J j J J | J jj , ' 

and it was probably sung in a low, monotonous recita- 
tive, and it may serve as a fair type of the rest of the 
Delphian music. When then Terpander was put to it 
to compose in this grave and severe style, what effect 
would it have on his genius ? He would infuse the 
buoyancy of his melody into this slow Libation Hymn 
as he had formerly done into the Hexameter, but this 
time he would remember the notes. The fleeting 
modulations of tone, which had mounted from the 
short spondee and the still lighter dactyl, and had 
been swept away in the rush of the Hexameter, would 
now be so protracted and so tardy in their departure, 
that they would fasten themselves in his mind almost 
against his will. In this way he was enabled to re- 
member the melody of the song, and he carried out 
the principle to its due completion, and henceforth 
began to compose hymns in which each syllable had 
its particular tone assigned it, and the hymns he thus 
composed were called Nomes, (" laws "), because now 
for the first time the tones which should accompany 
the words, and which had formerly been left to the 
mercy and option of the singer, were now for the 
first time regulated and fixed syllable by syllable, so 
that there was no departing from them. These Nomes 
of Terpander then were the first actual tunes that 
were heard in Greece.^ And they attained a celebrity 

I In this the writer follows common opinion. Plutarch gives us no 
further account of the Nomes than that they admitted no change of key nor 
change of rhythm. The elaborate attempt of Westphal to restore the Ter" 
pandian nomes from the definitions of Julius Pollux has ended in the regions 
of fancy. For other explanations see Prideaux ad Marmor, Par. XX. Burette 
in the Memoires de I'Academie des Inscriptions. X. 220. Marpurg. Kriiische 
Einleitung in die Geschichte der a. & n. Musik 19. 65. &c. 



that was very great indeed. And the names of the 
principal ones have come down to us : they were 
the Tetraoedian, he Acute, the Cepion, and Ter- 
pandrian Nomes.^ And the nomes of Terpander were 
still sung in the Delphian services so late as the 
days of Herodotus. 

Now about this time it happened that a sort of 
social revolution took place in the kingdom of Sparta, 
and it was a reaction against the cramped and one- 
sided development of life which had resulted from the 
harsh constitution of Lycurgus. For the regulations 
of Lycurgus were aimed at producing nothing but 
warriors, and as long as war lasted their imperfections 
were never seen. But now the Messenian wars had 
been brought to a glorious close, and the nation was 
abandoning itself to peace, and a cry arose for more 
air than Lycurgus granted them, and for liberal 
principles of thought, and for culture and refinement. 
And the leaders of the movement were called in 
derision by their sterner contemporaries, Parthenii, or 
" The Girls."2 And we know that not many years 
afterwards popular feeling was too strong for them, 
and they were banished bodily from the country. 
But in the meantime " The Girls " had it, and so 
great was their influence among the people at large 
that the Ephors were tempted to make some conces- 
sions, and to relax the rigour of the Lycurgean 
discipline in favour of the new ideas. Distinguished 
men were invited to Sparta from other parts of Greece, 
sculptors, poets, musicians, architects, and, among 
the rest, Terpander, whose fame had doubtless reached 
Sparta long before, from the intimate connection that, 

1 Plutarch, De Mus. 4. 

2 Lit. "the effeminate." This seems the best explanation, 


existed between Sparta and Delphi. And he was 
invited to Sparta to reform the Spartan Music. And 
it is strange to find the ephors promising to sanction 
his innovations by law ; so that it seems as if they 
courted change in a city that was the most con- 
servative in Greece. Terpander, then, the ^^olian, 
coming to the centre of the Dorian civilisation, found 
many things that were new to him, and he was in- 
vited to reform the music. And among other things 
he found that the scale in use at Sparta was totally 
different to the one he was accustomed to. For 
it should seem that the scales, that were developed in 
various parts of Greece, differed from one another 
very much as the dialects did, and now Terpander, 
who had hitherto been acquainted only with the 
yEolian scale, found himself face to face with the 
Dorian .scale. And these scales had grown up in- 
dependently of one another in different parts of the 
Greek world, as others had done or were doing, being 
strictly compasses of voice, and developing, as we 
have seen them develop in the primitive times of 
history. And they each had a compass of four notes 
(and this was the compass, if we remember, of Homer's 
lyre^) ; but the scale that Terpander had used, the 

yEolian scale, began on A ^ — '— ^ , but the Dorian 

scale began on E ^' p — . And this Dorian scale, 

I These primitive scales bear the btrongest marks uf Instrumental influence, 
aud no tloubt grew up under the immediate tutelage uf the Lyre, for the 
strings of ancient lyres were ever in " 4 " s (cf. Book I. Cap. 5.), and here we 
have a vocal scale exactly reflecting the Lyre Scale. The purely Vocal Scales 
of Greece, wliich will be discussed hereafter, present a very dift'erent appear- 
ance, Vide Infra.. Chap. VI, 



as he found it in Sparta, consisted of four consecutive 

notes going upwards from E, 

And now comes the great achievement of Terpander's 
life. And it falls in the 3rd period of his activity. For 
this is the 3rd period, after he had been invited to 
Sparta. And the first period was while he led the life 
of a rhapsodist in Asia Minor. And the second period 
was the Delphi period, when he acted as composer of 
music to the temple. And the third period was now. 
And in it falls the great achievement of his life. For 
being invited to Sparta, and being entreated, as it 
were, to innovate, he conceived the idea of joining the 
Dorian scale to his own i^olian scale. And this was 
the innovation he effected. And the two scales joined, 

the Dorian, which began on E, @=pszz= and the 

vEolian, which began on A, §'^^= produced the 

following scale, which is known in Greek Music as 

the Scale of Terpander : — 

Dorian Scale. ^olian Scale. 




And before this time there was no Greek scale that 
had more than 4 notes,i but now there was a scale 
with,/. So then well may he indulge in the proud boast, 

17/xac TOi Ti.Tpayr\pvv airotTTipKavTeg aoLor]v 
iTrrarovw (popf-uyji veovg KeXa^tjaofiev vfivovg, 
" We have grown weary of your four note songs, 
and henceforth new hymns will we sing to a lyre of 
seven chords," for he increased the strings of the lyre 
agreeably to the increase of the scale, for the lyre 

I Or five,. See Infra., p. —. 2 Terpander in Clemens, 


accompanied the voice note for note, and therefore 
he was obliged to increase them. And after his time 
all the lyres at Sparta were made with 7 strings* 
And this change in the strings of the lyre, like the 
change in the notes of the scale, was ratified by law, 
and remained unaltered in Sparta for ever. 

In this way was the scale of the Dorians added to 
the scale of the ^olians, and if we judge it by the 
analogy of the dialects, we shall describe it as the 
grafting of a younger form of scale upon an older 
form. For the ^olic dialect notoriously contains all 
the oldest forms of the Greek language, with its 
F, p for 0-, y for X, X for S, &c., all of them forms of 
such antiquity that they appear in the Latin language, 
and speak of having existed in that primitive epoch, 
which preceded the separation of the Greek and Latin 
Races. If then we assume the oldest forms of the 
Greek Music to survive in the JEolian Scale, as the 
oldest forms of its language in the ^olic dialect, we 
shall be led to a conclusion that may interest us. 

For if we look at this, ^olian Scale, 7^7-t^--" -1= — 

which Terpander added to the Dorian, we shall find 
it to be an Isolating Scale, for there is a break 
between B and D, or in other words, it consists of two 
small scales that are not joined together. And al- 
though we cannot say that there is a Great Scale and 
a Little Scale here, for both are of the same compass, 
we have merely to tamper with it a little and add a 
G at the bottom, to convert it into the very scale 
which we believed was in use among men in those 
primitive times before history began, thus : — 

-D P' f^ 1 \ 


] say, this is an interesting subject, and affords 
ample scope for those who hke to pursue the inquiry) 
but the evidence is too small and too untrustworthy in 
this period of our history to enable us to consider 
the matter more than cursorily, and there is much 
surmise and theory in what we have even already 

Terpander never left Sparta again. He was now an 
old man, and it was time that his wanderings should 
come to an end. And the Spartans united to pay the 
old man honour. And there was a special decree 
passed, which gave him the right of singing first of 
all the minstrels in the annual contest at the Carneian 
festival. I And this privilege was afterwards extended 
to his disciples, who were known as the Sons of 
Terpander, and their proficiency was so great, that 
they carried off the prize at this festival year after year 
for three generations. And the last who conquered 
was named Periclitus, and he comes late in our 

And we have spoken of the Nomes of Terpander, 
and have given the names of those that we know. 
And there is something preserved to us of his, which 
looks as if it were a prelude to a Nome, for possi- 
bly the Nomes had preludes too,^ and from its gravity 
and jthe solemnity of its subject it looks as if it 
belonged to the Delphi period of his life, 

ZeW TTUVTWV 0.p\Cl, TTUVTWV (ijaTwp, 

Zfu TOi ffTTEVOW ravrav v/nvdov ap^^av. ^ 

t The herald used to call out, tig fi^TU Tov Aia^iov (JSov ; (Suidas). 

2 This is a case in which the projection of Julius Pollux may be taken in 
evidence (IV. 9), and I cannot but think that the t7rap\a refers to a Prelude 
to the Nome. 

3 Terpander in Clemens. Stromateis VI. 279., in Migne. 


which is in the double spondee measure, and was 
chanted thus : — 

I l_j I 1] I 11 I M I I 

I J J I M I 1_| I Ij I 


and the occurrence of the word, o-ttei'Sw, seems to 
suggest that we have here a fragment from one of 
the Libation Services. And the Nomos Tetraoidios 
has been explained to mean the Nome with four notes 
in the melody,^ and must also date from the Delph^ 
period, before he framed the complete scale at Sparta. 
And it is probable that the gravity of style, which 
he acquired at Delphi, he retained to the end, for of 
the other Nomes that have been explained to us, we 
are told that the Nomos Orthios was in these long 
feet, and so was the Nomos Trochaeu,^ the Nomos 
Orthios being written in semibreves and minims, and the 
Nomos Trochaeu in minims and semibreves, the latter 
being the exact converse of the former, and putting its 
double minims or semibreves where the other had minims, 
and its minims where the other had double minims 
or semibreves.3 

Terpander by leaving Lesbos early and living most 
of his life at Dtlphi and Sparta, had escaped the 
influences of the city life, which was just beginning 
to wake into vigour in the islands and the Asiatic 
cities at his time, and had been able to develop his 
art straight on from Homer, in much of its traditional 
form and spirit, and amid surroundings which were 
eminently favourable for the preservation of that spirit. 

1 This. I imagine, is the opinion of Westphal in his notes to Plutarch in 
the second volume of his History. 

2 Aristides Quintilianus. 3 Id. I. 37,^ 


For Delphi, owing to its connection with religion, was 
slow to modernise, and Sparta was to the last the 
undoubted heir of the heroic life and art. But in 
Asia things were taking a very different turn, and 
still more so in the precocious islands of the -^gean 
Sea, which were now putting on their weak - woven 
garments of prosperity. And the old ideals were 
being shattered, and new ones were coming in ; and 
the commercial life with all its blunt levelling 
tendencies was encompassing men, and besides this a 
remarkable change was coming over the language, 
which was destined to have an incalculable effect on 
the future Music of Greece. 

For it should seem that language, like other things 
of man's creation, is smitten with its maker's instability,^ 
and is in constant flux of strength and weakness, 
even in the short history of a single nation. And 
the strength of a language is when it is blurted and 
mouthed well ; and its weakness is when it is clipped 
and minced. Or it is a strong period in the history of 
a language when it is spoken slowly and deliberately ; 
and it is a weak period when it is talked with great 
rapidity, for this is a sign that the thoughts are in 
excess of the means of expression, and that they 
crowd so for utterance that the integrity of the sound 
is sacrificed to their convenience. And these periods 
come and go in the history of a nation, but some- 
times their features are more marked than at others, 
and sometimes their duration too is longer. And when 
a period of weakness lasts for a very long time 
indeed, and seems as if it were about to become 

avcptg ctfxavpoliioi, (j)vXXwv J^via Trpoaofxoioi, 
oXiyoSpdvteg, TrXdafiara tttjXov, (TKiod^ea <pvX afitviivd. 


chronic, it has been customary for writers of recent 

years to treat it as an outbreak of Phonetic Decay. 

Yet we must be careful to nse this term with all 

reservation, since it can in strictness be only applied 

to the termination of a language's history. For a 

young, vigorous language will easily overcome these 

outbreaks, and right itself again, as a young man 

triumphs over the attacks of disease. And let us see 

what effect such an outbreak will have on a 

language, and how the language will right itself 

again. And first of all — and this is the leading sign 

— the language will be talked more rapidly, and whether 

this is due to the ceiuse we have mentioned above, to 

the excess of thought over the powers of utterance, or 

whether it may not indicate a dulling of the ear to 

the beauty of sound, or thirdly, may not be the simple 

consequence of an ever increasing familiarity with the 

vehicle of expression — may well admit conjecture. For 

it seems that the more centuries pass over a nation's 

head, the greater skill will they have in managing the 

machineries which make up life, and as the wheels of 

their government work more smoothly, and the machinery 

of their traffic is improved, so will their language too 

trip lighter off the tongue. And perhaps the lightness 

and celerity it acquires may be set down as one of 

the many forms in which a greater briskness of life 

shows itself, for it is principally at periods of great 

national activity that these symptoms of the language 

make their appearance. And strangely enough, what 

is in reality the result of an increased vitality is set 

down as a symtom of decay. And why it should be 

so, and that it is really so, we may see by looking 

round at the state of our own English language at the 

present moment, which is now spoken with much 

greater rapidity than it used to be, and how this 


rapidity has affected it. And it will be seen that we 
gain our rapidity by crushing our words. For in such 
phrases as " some water," " some wine," we do not 
speak the words as they stand written here, but we 
say " s'mwater," " s'mwine." And " perhaps " has become 
" praps," and " every," " evry," and " several," " sevral,'' 
and " personal," " persnal." And we may see under our 
eyes the long vowels of the English language passing 
into their corresponding short ones, and these again 
into other vowels which are shorter still. For the old 
English long o, which is properly written oiv^ has by 
this time disappeared from most pronunciations, being 
replaced by the short o, as in " knowledge," " acknow- 
ledge," &c., or oftener by the soft " ou," as " cow," 
" now," " prow." And the short o is fast passing into 
u, as in " money," " honey," or into the still weaker i, 
as in " women." And this weak short i is usurping 
the place of many of the ancient vowels, of the e, as 
in " regiment," "England," "engine," and of the short a, 
as in " pinafore," " separate," while the long a is sinking 
into e, as " any," " many," and will soon be merged in 
the all-engrossing short i, which is the most clipped of 
vowels. And it is the same crushing tendency which 
is at work in the dropping of the aspirate at the 
beginning of words — which has long been dropped in 
the middle and the end, as " white," " what," " borough" — 
and in leaving out the beginnings of words, as " them " 
is passing into "'em," and "because" into "'cause," and 
in cutting consonants in the middle, as " would," " could," 
should," where the 1 has long been dropped. And 
such a change as we see passing over the English 
language at present, was passing over the Greek 
language at the time we are writing of. And it was 
felt most m the centres of activity and bustle, which 
at that time were the islands and the cities of Asia 


Minor, just as we remark the changes most in our 

centres of activity and commerce, and most particularly 

in the metropolis of our country. But the Dorians, 

whom we left a page ago, were but little affected by 

these changes, and the language with 'them remained 

but little altered. And if we turn to the Dorians of 

our own land, we shall be able to see how little they 

are affected too by our linguistic changes, and how 

the older and more complete forms of our language 

survive among them. For the Scotch are the Dorians 

of Britain, and in Scotland the words are still round 

and full-blooded, and all the varieties of vowel sounds 

are still retained unimpaired. And looking at the 

measured pronunciation which prevails in Scotland, we 

shall be able to sum up in one sentence the principle 

which is at the bottom of the entire linguistic change. 

For the Scotch sound every syllable of each word 

with almost equal emphasis, but we on the other hand 

single out one, or at the utmost two syllables, and 

laying peculiar stress on these we let the rest of the 

word shift for itself So that such words as 

" stewardess," " actress," " committee," which become with 

us, " stewrdis," " actris," " cmi'tti," are still sounded in 

Scotland precisely as they are spelt, with almost equal 


emphasis on every syllable, " stewardess," " actress," 


" committee." That is to say, we pronounce our words 

by Accent, they pronounce them by Quantity ; and it 

is this growing pronunciation by accent that is at the 

root of all the clipping and mincing of words, which we 

have just been considering in detail ; for the rest of the 

word is invariably sacrificed to the chosen syllable, 

and this tendency, when carried to exaggeration ends 

in leaving out letters and whole syllables themselves. It 

is for this reason that the naturalisation of the 


Hexameter Measure in English Poetry has always been 
attended with failure, for the Hexameter measure con- 
sists of feet, each of two syllables, of which the second 
syllable is as long as the first. And Poe has well said 
that there are only two words in the English language, 
as we speak it to-day, that have their 2nd syllable 
equal to their first — " compound," and " complex," To 
which we may add two or three more, as " broad- 
cloth," " housemaid," and the word " Spondee," itself. 
But the list is soon exhausted. 

And such a change as we see has passed or is 
passing over the English Language at present, was 
passing over the Greek language at the time we write 
of,i that is to say, about 600 years before Christ, 
when the city life was beginning to hum loud around 
men, and the great cities of Miletus, Ephesus, Smyrna, 
Rhodes, Colophon, Magnesia, were becoming marts for 
the trade of the East, and the Cyclades were in the 
heyday of their prosperity, and new forces were 
working their way up through the tossing elements of 
life. Three centuries or more had elapsed since the 
time of Homer, and the bards and minstrels had 
passed away into the land of dreams and legend. 
Even Terpander to the men of these times was like 
one but half emerged from fable, and his music had 
sunk like water in the sand at Sparta, without much 
influence on the great world beyond. And the heroes 
and their battle-shouts and deeds of war and tumult 
were lost in the chaffering of merchants and the 
creaking cordage of argosies. 

And now that heroic metre that had endured so 

I Of course I am here speaking of a very modified form of accentual 
pronunciation, and it is a point in other respects I would be gladly excused 
from pressing. 


long — the great Hexameter fell asunder. And it had 
weathered many ages. For, as we have seen, it was 
in existence before Homer's time, and he had done 
little more than bring it to high perfection. And 
after his time it still held its own through the Epic 
poets that succeeded him, who are called the Cyclic 
Poets, and through the school of Hesiod and the 
school of Terpander, for except in his religious nomes, 
which he wrote for the temple of Delphi, Terpander 
always used the Hexameter measure. And the tradi- 
tional account of the Hexameter and its origin which 
the Greeks themselves give is as follows : for it was 
said to have been invented in Lycia in the most 
remote ages, before the worship of Apollo had travelled 
from Lycia to Greece, and that the inventor of it 
was a priest of Apollo, called Olen.^ And Olen brought 
the worship of Apollo from Lycia to Delos, and from 
Delos the Hexameter had travelled to the islands.^ 
And afterwards he brought it from Delos to Delphi, 
whence the Dorians got it.^ And this is the account 
that the Greeks give of the Hexameter. And it had 
come in with the Sun God, who rises above the 
mountains of Lycia, but is first seen in Greece when 
he rises from the waters behind Delos. 

But now under the influence of the changes which 
had been going on in the language all this time, the 
Hexameter toppled. For in the briskness of pro- 
nunciation and crushing in of syllables which now 

^ QX17V og yivsTO irptJTog <E>oi/3oto irpo^aTaq 
irpioTog c ap^aniiv eirewv r^KTCivaT aoi^rfv. 

^ EK AwKtrjc iXdiibv £7roiJ7(7£ Tovg vjxvovg rovg a^i^Ofxivovg Iv 
ArjXfi). Herod. IV. 35. 

3 fiavTivaaaQai irpCjTOv (sc. Iv AeXtpoig) kol acrai irpCjTOv to 
e^afierpov. Pausanias, p. 809. 



obtained, that equality of pronunciation, which was 
necessary to the stately repose of its measure, had 
completely passed away, and to recite Hexameters 
was to affect a slow and portentous pronunciation 
that was unnatural to the tongue — unless indeed one 
were to crush up the syllables agreeably to the speech 
of ordinary life, and then the reciting would be 
natural enough. And a native of the island of Paros, 
named Archilochus, conceived the idea of adapting the 
pronunciation of ordinary life to the Hexameters, and 
reciting them in this way. So he crushed up the 
syllables of the Hexameter, crushing grapes. 

Here is a specimen of Archilochus' grape-crushing : — 

J J** '^ 


J -J 




jurj-viv a - 

a -Se 0£ - 

a rirj- 

-J -J*» 

Xrj - og 

S S 

m S 

S m 

# . 

— « • — 

fjL t} - VLV a- £ L -de ui. - a Ilr) - X rj - ta - S £ a» 'A^^i - \r\ - og 
and the next line 


•i; - Xo-jLii- 

vr)v T] 


jiiv -pi 'a- 

! K 

Xat -oig 


!S S 


■y£ £1 

rj - k:£ 

o v-Xofxi - V T] V rj fjLv- pf"A-^ a i-olg a X -ye e- 6 rf - kb 

In this way he evolved a new species of time in 
the world, for whereas the Hexameter bar, with its 
equal arsis and thesis, is in Common Time, Archi- 
lochus' bar, where the arsis is unequal to the thesis, 
is in Triple Time. Or more strictly the Hexameter 

is in ^ time, and i\.rchilochus' measure is in ^ , as 

we should phrase it. The Hexameter has 4 shorts in 
the bar, for each long was equivalent to 2 shorts, and 

we may write it g if we choose, and Archilochus' has 

thp: greeks. 63 

only 3 shorts. In this way was Triple time first 
brought into the world, and among the Greeks it 
retained to the last the sign of its origin, for while 
we beat our Triple time with three beats in a bar, 
they only used two beats, but instead of beating two 
long, as they did in the Hexameter, they now beat 
one long beat and one short one. 

Now this tendency which reached its climax in 
Archilochus had been in existence, though only in 
embryo, long before his time, for the language was 
slow of changing. And in the Cyclic Poets who 
succeeded Homer we see the first signs of it appearing, 
for there is a tradition that they sometimes used 
dactyls which were shorter than the ordinary dactyls 
by one syllable — that ^.is, they had the value of 3 
shorts instead of 4. And this Cyclic dactyl, as it was 
called, was represented by the metricians of later times 

^n the following way : —J ^ J—Jh - 

for this is the way we mark it in our notation, ^ 
when three notes are to be recited to the time of 
two. And that is what the metricians tell us, that 
the long syllable of the Cyclic dactyl and the first of 
the two shorts that followed were chanted to the time 

of one long , while the second of the two shorts 

preserved its own time, thus . And this, 

as will be seen, converts the bar really into a triple bar, 
though it was not definitely conceived as such, and was 
only a momentary yielding to the influences of the 
language. While even Homer himself crushes up his 
dactyl once or twice for the sake of pungent effect, for 
it seems certain that such lines as 

avTiK ETTEtra tteSovSe KvXiv^BTO Xaag avai^i)g 
in which he seeks to represent by the language the 



hopping of Sisyphus' stone down the ledges of rock ; 
or that line which describes the trotting of Aga- 
memnon's mules, 

TToXXa S' avavra, Karavra, TTCipavra re, ^6~)Qiia t rjXOov. 
or the galloping of Achilles' horses, 

Kpanrvd fiaX evda Kot 'ivda diivK^fxev 17 Se ^i^icrQai 
&c., ought rather to be read 

than :- 






which would make the line drag too much, and spoil 
the effect which he intended to produce.^ So that we 
may say that even Homer appreciated the possibility 
of such a thing as triple time.^ But he let it go 
again, and there the thing lay undeveloped, but 
gradually gathering strength by the influences of the 
language, till it woke into being beneath the touch 
of Archilochus. 

And Triple Time means gaiety and joy, and the age 
was now ripe to receive it. For we are now in the 
days of Scolium and the Comus, and the statuesque 
objectivity of the elder bards had passed quite away, 
and had given way to the subjectivity of the Individual, 
with all his joys and sorrows, and passions and hatreds. 
And the scorn of man was now first heard in music, 
and his endless love, for these things had the epic 
poets stifled and kept under, in the unbroken repose 

1 Cf. the remarks of Dionysius of Halicarnassus on the line avTiq eireiTa 
hi his De compositione verborum, 20. 

2 Once or twice he has used a Trochee in the first place instead of a 
Spondee. II. — . but it does not seem to have been intentionally employed in 
this passage. 



of their art. And shall we say that the Dance was 
insinuating itself into the sphere of Music, for Triple 
Time has ever been the tinme of the Dance ? And 
those short forms that it delights to turn in — those 
short dance measures, the Nuptial Song, the Revel 
Song, the Vintage Song, the Phallic Dancing Song, 
were filling the world again. As it was before the 
Hexameter began, so was it now, for the great heroic 
metre lay scattered in fragments on the ground. Who 
then is he who will build new forms out of the 
crumbling mass, as shepherds build their huts from 
the ruins of castles, or better, as he who built a palace 
from the ruins of a Pyramid ? Where is the Architect 
to come from that shall raise us our terraces again ? 
And the island of Paros, which gave Greece its marble, 
gave it likewise its musical forms. And the Architect 
of the Music again was Archilochus. 

Archilochus finding the Hexameter take this light and 
diminished form beneath his hands, and because it was 
so short and stunted — for though in theory perhaps 
the J^ of the new bar | J J^\ was equivalent to the 
J^ of the old IJ J^J^^I, yet in practice it was very differ- 
ent, and there was a real lopping off of the last quaver, 
so that the new line had ended, by the time the 
old one had reached the middle of its 5th foot, 

\j KJ KJ KJ \J \J \J \J — KJ \J 

_W_ \J — KJ —\J — KJ — \J 


and was in reality a full quarter of a line shorter ; 
for the old Hexameter contained 24 shorts, but the 
new line only 18, as we may easily see by resolving 
the longs into shorts, 




I I i I i I 

Archilochus, then, seeing how short and weak the new 
Hne was by comparison with its great original, con- 
ceived the idea of strengthening it and giving dignity 
to it, by increasing its length and making it actually 
as long as the Hexameter itself. And to do this he 
had to increase it by a quarter of its length, that is 
to say, he had to add on 6 more syllables to it, that 

is, 2 feet, www www. And so he constituted the 

w w 

line in 8 feet instead of 6, and now it was exactly as 

long as the Hexameter : — 

Mil: I : I : I : i 

— WW — WW — WW — WW — WW — — 
— W — W — W — W — W — W — W — w 


And in order to give body to this long slender line, 
and if possible to rival the majesty of the Hexameter 

close — for that close of the Hexameter _ w w | 1 1 is 

full of unutterable majesty— he resolved that the last 
foot of his line should consist of one sustained note 
J . , equal in value to the two notes which at first 
composed it, j J^, ^ and in this way he gained a 

fine close, which emulated if it did not quite come 
up to the close of the Hexameter. For let us consider 
this close and see how firm it is, 

I h| I M I N| I b\i Ml ^| I ^ij 

and how well it apes the dignity of its pattern, 

^ fUiKpa rpixpovog, written in Greek, J. (Anonymi Sctiptio 
de Musica. 

tHE (tREEKS. 67 

And in this way he finally determined the line, that is 
to say, that it should consist of 8 feet, and that the 
last foot should consist of one sustained note of the 
value of a full bar. And the rhythm of the line was 
precisely the same as that of the Hexameter, that is, it 
consisted of two Phrases, an Antecedent and a Conse- 
quent, only the Phrases consisted of 4 feet each instead 
of 3, because 4 feet of this new line were equivalent to 
3 feet of the Hexameter, and the phrasing therefore 
was as follows : — 

I hi I hi I Nil hi' I hi I h| I hi I II 

And the line itself has been called by later writers on 
Music, the Trochaic Tetrameter, because the name that 
was given to this new foot, j j > was Trochee and the 
word. Tetrameter, was used, which means 4 bars, because 

it was afterwards read in g time instead of g , as we 

shall see, giving 4 bars instead of 8. But the Phrasing 
never altered to the end, being always the same as 
Archilochus had constituted it. 

And now Archilochus, having constituted this light 
tripping line as we have said, conceived the idea of 
forming a new and graver measure out of the same 
materials. And seeing that what gave this Trochaic 
Measure its airy buoyant character was the weight being 
thrown at the beginning of each foot, which gave the 
foot a bounce, so to speak, and made it fly along, he 
considered that if the weight were thrown at the end of 
the foot instead of the beginning, it would make the 

^ TTpojro) avTbi TU T£TpLi/iiTpa awodiSoTai. Plutarch. Dc 
Musica. 28. 



line drag more, and so procure the effect which he 
wanted. And he was led to discover how he might do 
this, by observing the popular songs of his time. For 
the popular songs, being constructed with much greater 
freedom than the artistic forms of music, had always 
allowed this licence to the poet, that he might make use 
of an extra syllable at the beginning of the line, 
whenever the necessities of his language seemed to call 
for it. And in this loose and free way was the Linus 
constructed, which we spoke of as being the nucleus of 
the Hexameter, for it ran thus : — 

— \j \j — \j \j 

ai Aive Tram Bi oiaiv 

— \j \j — \j \j 

IfXiVi I (TOl yap £ I So)K£V 


Or we may take examples from the popular songs of 
our own language, and we shall find the same looseness 
allowed, or let us take one from a celebrated poet of 
our country, who has imitated _ this freedom in one of 
his compositions, and see it there : — 



— w 


with se- 

cure de- 


w • 


_ w 

— w 

T/ie ': 



will in- 


_ \j 

_ w 

— w 

When the 


bells ring 


— / w 


_ w 


And the 





\ w 


— w 



: many a 

youth and 

many a 


- ^ 




'neath the 




\ w 

— w 



: young and 

old come 

forth to 



_ w 


On a 





And Archilochus, seeing this occasional licence used 
by the popular poets of his country, thought that by 
making it permanent he could get the effect he wanted. 
For he had merely to apply this extra syllable to his 
Trochees, and make it an essential element in the line, 
to dislodge the weight effectually from the beginning of 
the foot to the end, and the weight being displaced in 
the jfirst foot would go on shifting through all the feet, 
till they all got loaded at their ends instead of their 
beginnings, just like the first foot was. As thus : — 

//ff I I I r 
\J \J \J \J \J \J \J 

Here is the original line. 

And if we apply a short syllable at the beginning, we 
shall find how the weight shifts, 

t I r I I I t t 
\J \J \J W W \J \J \J 

for now it is at the end of the feet instead of at the 
beginning of them, and if we express this musically we 
shall find that the original line, 

has become by virtue of the short syllable j** added at 
the beginning, 

which if we wrote it in strict modern notation would 
bring out the added syllable into relief still more, for we 
should have to write it, 

for we can only place the accent at the beginning of our 
bars, but tbe Greeks could place it at the beginning or 


the end, just as they chose.^ 

And now Archilochus, finding this new line run much 
slower and graver than the Trochaic line, out of which 
he had constructed it, saw that its length need not 
be so great as the Trochaic either. So he cut it 
down from 8 feet to 6, and thus gave it the same 
number of feet as the original Hexameter. And it 
was phrased in the same way as the Hexameter 
was, that is to say, in two equal phrases of three bars 

M h I 1 > \ ] h I 1 h i I ^ I I f^ I II 

In this way Archilochus constituted the Iambic. 

And now Archilochus, finding that this Iambic 
measure was most of all received with delight by the 
people and soon attained the highest popularity 
everywhere — and perhaps this was because it contained 
that element of easiness, which up till then had been 
limited to the popular measures, I mean the beginning 
with a short syllable, for perhaps more words began 
with a short syllable than a long,^ and so it was easier 
to put them together ; at any rate we are told by 
historians that the Iambic measure approximated very 
nearly in its swing to the speech of ordinary life in 
those days and hence came its remarkable popularity 
"—and Archilochus seeing this, and finding how much 
the people were delighted with the ease with which 
the numbers could be made to flow, introduced a new 

i Infra, p. — . 

2 This we may judge fiom the analogy of the other measures, and 

. B 

also from the bars being constituted m ^ time. 

3 e.g. the universal Augment. 

thp: greeks. 71 

device into his Iambics, by which he assimilated the 
measure still more closely to the rhythm of ordinary 
speech ; for it is plain that ordinary speech does not 
proceed, however much it may be inclined that way, 
in one continuous stream of shorts and longs, but 
there are pauses in it, and hangings on emphatic 
syllables, and the words, too, as we utter them, will 
not sort themselves in immaculate symmetry, but two 
and more long syllables will come out together, and 
two and more short ones in like manner. And so 
Archilochus conceived that if he allowed the licence of 
slight' pausings in his verse, it would not take away 
from the harmony of the measure, and that if he 
made the short syllables the ones where the pauses 
should occur, two long syllables would then be able 
to come together, for a long syllable could be 
pronounced in the same time as a paused short one ; 
and so the ease of the numbers would be greatly 
increased. So he conceived the device of increasing 
the short syllables of the verse by half their length, 
but he did not do this all through the line, in fact 
only in alternate feet ; and the feet which he chose to 
keep intact and precisely in their perfect rhythm were 
the 2nd, 4th, and 6th, because he felt that the flow 
of the music was strongest there, but the other three 
feet, ^that is, the ist, 3rd, and 5th, he allowed to be 
lengthened by pausing, that is to say, he allowed 
their first, which is their short syllable, to be increased 
by half its length. 

And this increase of the short syllable we should 
express by a dot . thus (J^.), which gives exactly the 
value which Archilochus assigned it. 

And now he could use two longs together with 
the greatest freedom, and instead of the old form of 
the verse, 




I \ I II 

/ULSTSp - X°A*"' 
\J — \J — 

he could write 


KJ — W _ 







air a» 
w _ 

juhjv ey 



ft-irt — na^— aP-a^ 

rpt - at - vav f tr - OXriv kol 

KV - TL 

\j — 

1^ I I 

Ke-Kap - fievoQ 
\j — w — 

1^ I I 

Kvfiep - VI) -rrjv (TO(j)-6v. 

\j — \J — — — \J — — \J — 

which henceforth became the common form in which 
Iambics were written. ^ 

And going at this time to the island of Thasos to 

the gold mines there, he was brought into connection 

with the merchants of Tyre, who up till now had 

I This dot is called the Alogia, or Supeifluous Accent we may cnll it, 
and this is the Problem of Aristoxenus which gives us the exact lenj;th of 
the accent:— £t \ri(j)Odi]aav cvo ttooec 6 fitv 'laov to avu) rto kutoj 
txtjjv Ktti Ciiay]fxov tKUnpov, o St to ptv kcitw ^Lari/xov to St av(jj 
7]pi(TV, TpiTog OE TLQ \i](j)6dri TTOvg Trapa tovtovq tiiv jAv paaiv 
'/or?]v avTolg ctjuKpOTspoig t'x^'^ "^^^ ^^ apcriv peaov jutysOoQ e^^ovaav 
Twv aocrswv' 6 yap toiovtoq ttovq aXoyov jLiiv a^H to avo) irpbc 
TO mTb). Arist. Fragments. " Take two feet, and let the one have 

the thesis equal to the arsis, and each equal to two shorts, kj \j , 

And let the other foot have the artis equal to two shcrts. and the thesis to one 
short, \j. And take a third foot, having its arsis equal to their arsis — 

but its thesis half their theses added together (i.e. half 3 shorts 
\j \j \j = I short and a half ( w ,) as we may express it). Such a 

foot will have a superfluous accent on its second syllable kj . I.e. 

■J J , That the ist, 3rd, and, 5th foot of the Iambics Avere 

precisely Alogiaed Iambuses, and not Spondees, as we are taught at 
school, is a well known tradition among the Latin metricians. For a 
further discussion of the Alogia cf. infra, p, 333. 



been the undisputed masters of the island. For ships 
of the Phoenicians, scouring the sea everywhere in 
search of gain, had very early in history got wind of 
the treasures that lay beneath the soil of Thasos, and 
beginning at first to traffic there, as they did with our 
own Scilly Isles for tin, they had ended by making 
themselves masters of the island, and Thasos had 
become an appanage of the Tyrian republic. And 
Aichilochus, going at this time to Thasos, was brought 
into connection with the Tyrian merchants there, and 
naturally what he would most remark was the music 
which was in use in this colony of foreigners. And the 
Phoenician music was an offshoot of the Assyrian music^ 
and also contained many elements that had been 
introduced from Egypt, for we know that the connection 
between Tyre and Egypt was in the later days of the 
Egyptian monarchy very close indeed.^ We are 
not surprised therefore to hear that when Archilochus 
returned to Paros again he brought a strange instrument 
with him, whose name reminds us strikingly of that 
small triangular harp which was the rage in Egypt 
under the later dynasties, and which we surmised had 
likewise been imported at an early date from Egypt 
into the city of Babylon. For the name of that 
Egyptian harp was the Sambuca, and the name of the 
instrument which Archilochus brought to Paros was the 
lambuca ; and it is probable that he had made this 
slight alteration in the name himself, for he brought it 
to deck his Iambics. And he had learnt in the mean- 
while the art of accompanying the song in a different 
way to that in which Terpander accompanied it. For 

I e.g. FroiTi the nanal-ive of the Egyptian traveller whose impressions 
of Tyre Sic, form one of the most interesting relics of antiquity^ 


Terpander accompanied the voice note for note, but 
Archilochus employed a separate accompaniment, 
different from the melody the voice sang, and strange 
to say, above it.^ And I think here we may trace 
strong marks of Assyrian influence. For in speaking 
of the Music of Assyria, we had occasion to remark 
how fond the Assyrians were of high notes, how the 
whole weight of the music was in the soprano, and 
how all their instruments were high pitched. And not 
being able then, through deficiency of data to come at 
any very precise comprehension of the manner of Assyrian 
Music, it seems we may fairly argue back to it now 
from this innovation in Greek Music, which Archilochus 
derived plainly from them. And we shall see the reason 
of their high instruments was for this, that the instrument 
might accompany the voice above instead of below. 
Which after its introduction by Archilochus remained 
ever after the regular method of accompaniment in 
Greece. And if we would gain some idea of Archi- 
lochus' style of accompanying, we must appeal to a 
passage in Plutarch for our evidence, from which it 
has been elegantly demonstrated not only in the 
character of the accompaniment, but down to the very 
notes which he most frequently employed. For 
Plutarch is speaking of the Scale in use at the time we 
are writing of, which had, if we remember, a break 
between its 5th and 6th notes, that is, between B and 
D, for there was no C in the Scale, for it ran from 

Ty— ^ to •^y — ' and so counted 7 notes, C 

being omitted. And he is endeavouring to prove that 
this omission of C was not any organic defect in the 

^ VTTO Tijv itjoijv. See Excursus at end of Book. 


Scale, but, what is indeed most improbable, a purely 
voluntary omission on the part of the singers for the 
purpose of producing a pleasing effect on the ear, which 
how it did so we cannot now judge. And he says by 
the way the following words : — "For they must have 
been acquainted with the note C, although they never 
used it in their singing, since they used it in the 
instrumental accompaniment to accompany the voice's 

F, thus T-tT — 0- — " (and in these instances the top note 

with the tail up represents the Instrument, and the 
bottom note, the note of the Voice.) " Then, too, we 
know as a fact that they were perfectly acquainted 

with the note E ^zE:=iE for it appears in the Scale 

itself But yet they never used the note E in the 
song, but only in the instrumental accompaniment, 
just like they did the C, and they used it as a 

harmony to the A of the Voice, thus ^ — and, 

as a discord to the D of the Voice, thus 



And then he goes on to illustrate these uses by 

allusions to the other notes of the Scale, which, it 

should seem, were used indiscriminately both by the 

Voice and the Instrument, and, by the way, he speaks 

of " the note D, which was used in the Accom_ 


paniment as a discord to C — — | - " i, a discord to 


I This refers strictly to the C of the S)aremmenon Tetrachord of the 
Pythagorean Scale, but the writer has felt it right to strain a point 
and bring it in here, for the sake of showing off as "many possible 
combinations of the simple accompaniment as he could. 



■^ t) ' ^ " (^o^ ^^^ Greek ear conceived the 3rd 

as a discord), " a concord to A ^ — , and a 

concord to G gf- 

So that it seems from this passage in Plutarch 
we may form a very clear and correct idea as 
to what Archilochus' accompaniment really was. And 
without staying to discuss that question of the C, 
which led Plutarch into these revelations, and which 
indeed if we do admit that it was used in the 
Accompaniment, though it was not in the Scale, we 
must find in it another instance of Archilochus' in- 
novations, since the theory that it was purposely 
omitted by singers to produce a pleasing effect may 
hardly be sustained — but without staying to discuss 
this, we will view the case quite generally, and argue 

from the ^4 ^ — the bare fact of the use of 5ths 

in the harmony between the instrument and the voice, 



which that other juxtaposition ^ii= ^zz= will likewise 

teach us. And from gi ~^ — ~ we will argue the 

use of discords of the 2nd, and from 


2 Plutarcli De Musica. 19. 



of discords of the 3rd, and — — '-^ the use of 4ths. 


And bearhig in mind what Plutarch says, that the 
high E ^-i — ' was not used by the Voice, and 


retaining our original idea that C was not used 
either, we shall find that the Melody of the Songs 
at this time travelled through the notes 


and that above the song ran an instrumental accom- 
paniment on the Lyre, or by preference on Archi- 
lochus' lambuca, in 2nds, 3rds, 4ths, 5ths, and 
occasionally perhaps in unison, for this was the 
tradition of Terpander. And all this was at the 
option of the singer to vary his accompaniment and 
its harmonies as he chose, and though it may seem 
strange to us that the accompaniment should be above 
the song, those who have tried it will know how sweet 
it sounds. 

In this way then was the Lyre passed round at the 
revels, and each as his turn came sang a song, 
accompanying himself on the strings. And it was 
principally extemporisation that was practised here, and 
the singers sang like Mercury in Homer, 
wo KaXov aeiSeiv 
e^ avTO(T\Bdir)g irsipojfievog.^ 
and the king of the revels was Archilochus. " When 

riVTS Kovpoi 
rjjSTjrat OaXiriai TrapaijdoXa KzpTOfxiovaiv, 



the thunder of wine is in my brains," says he, " then 
I am the man at a song." ^ 

And for that by this time his Iambics were grown 
so favourite a number, that men would talk them for 
amusement often instead of singing them, he invented 
a smaller and simpler instrument on the model of his 
lambuca, which was to serve the talkers' turn, and in 
this way he raised even the speaking of his Iambics to 
an artistic form. And this smaller and simpler 
instrument he called " The Thief,"^ because it stole 
away the melody from the verses and took it all to 
itself. And sometimes at banquets he would use 
both instruments alternately. He would begin by 
singing his Iambics with the accompaniment of the 
lambuca, and then he would pass into talking them, to 
the twanging of the " Thief," And this mixture of 
Speech and Song, though it was merely an idle amuse- 
ment at the time, was afterwards developed into a 
complete artistic form, and was known as the Paraca- 
taloge, and subsequently became the basis on which 
the Athenian tragedians raised their musical forms.^ 
. Archilochus having assimilated his Iambics so 
perfectly to the ease of ordinary speech, and having 
decked them with the beauty of Accompaniment, and 
given them two instruments to go out into the world 
with them, still continued his interest in the popular 
songs of the time, which indeed had given him the 
first suggestion that made his Iambics possible. And 
one of the most frequent songs, and a song that he 

I divM avjKEpavvwdeig (j)pivag. (Frag. 77 in Bergk.) 
- KXe\piaibil5oQ. 

3 Plutarch. 28. m Se rwv lajufieiojv to to. fuv \ij£adai 
irapa Trjv Kpovmv to 8' q^^adai ^Ap^i\o-)^6v ^a<n KaTacH^ai. 


would hear the people singing very often, was the song 
that was sung at the procession of the Phallus, which 
was called the Ithyphallic song^, and we have not its 
words, but its measure was this, 

— w — \J — — 

And it seems to the writer of this narrative that the 
second last of the two longs was a sustained note, 
which we should express in music by <^ . , and that 
so the Ithyphallic Measure in musical notes was this : 

but he does not know whether this is true or not, 
because we have no decided information on the subject, 
but it seems to him that this was the true rhythm of 
it, from the way that Archilochus treated it. For 
Archilochus, as I say, hearing this Ithyphallic measure, 
and being struck with its terseness and crispness, began 
to contrive how he might make use of it. And 
since the swing of it so greatly resembled his own 
Trochaic line 

J J I J W I J j\ &c. 
he was unable to use it in connection with his 
Trochees ; but on the other hand, it was exactly the 
inverse of his Iambics, and he thought that by com- 
bining it with his Iambics, he could bring out the 
terseness and pertness of the Ithyphallic measure into 
eminent relief. So he resolved to break into his 
Iambics, and combine them with the Ithyphallic. 
And this was his first step in the composition 
of heterogeneous metres, in which he afterwards 
so much excelled. And since if he was to combine 
the Ithyphallic with his Iambic, he must needs 
have parity of Rhythmic Phrasing, for that is the 
feature of all music, and the Iambic as it stood was 


6 feet, but the Ithyphallic only 4, he therefore broke 
off the two last feet from his Iambic, and was thus 
enabled to combine it with the Ithyphallic, for each now 
consisted of 4 feet apiece : — 

I -^ r \ 

\j \ \j \ \j Iw — 1^ \j \ — \j \ — .1 — 11 

But now these phrases were so dissimilar, for the first 
is weighted at the end of its feet, and the second at 
the beginning of them, that they would have bumped 
up against each other at the joining point, if they 
had been combined as we see them now, as we have 
only to read them as they stand to see. So he 
conceived the idea of silencing the last note of his 
Iambic, and putting a rest of equal value in its 
place, in this way that collision of longs, which drags 
so, would be avoided, and besides there was now a 
tantalising pause after the comparative gravity of the 
Iambic, just sufficient to provoke our expectation, when 
all at once the dapper Ithyphallic came tripping in. 
And this rest the Greeks called a Ktvog fsub. xpovog), or 
" empty beat," and they wrote it /\ ,1 but we will 
continue to use our English notation, and write it, |* . 
And now the complete verse of Archilochus stood as 
follows : — 

And in the last syllable of the ist Phrase, he availed 
himself of the same licence which up till now had only 
been extended to the end of a complete line, that is to 
sly, he treated it as adiaphorous or common in 

1 Anonj'mi Scriptio. p. 102. (Bellerraann's Edition.) 

2 Although the invention of rests is not positively attributed to 
Archilochus, I think Hephjestion's words (in the 15th chapter of his 
Encheiridion) joined to the testimony of the Asynartetes themselves, with 
their otherwise unaccountable adiaphorous syllable, almost sanctions the 


quantity, and would use naturally long syllables there, 
and make them short, as was commonly done by the 
poets before his time, though only at the end of the 

And having carried out his ideas of composition 
so successfully in this, he now proceeded to greater 
heights. For he woke the old Hexameter to life, 
and bid it take new form before him. And he rivalled 
Rembrandt • in his light and shade. For he now 
combined Common and Triple Time in the same 
verse, and this was contrast indeed. ^ For however 
the accent differed in the Iambic and the Ithyphallic, 
they were both yet in the same Triple Time of ^. 
But the old Hexameter in its original and unper- 
verted form was in 5 time. And he conceived the 
bold idea of compounding this verse, where the Arsis 
and Thesis were of equal measure, with a verse 
where the Arsis was double of the Thesis, as it is in 
^ time. And he treated the Hexameter as he had 
treated his Iambic, and broke off the two last feet, 
in order to establish equality of phrasing with the 
4 foot Ithyphallic that was to follow. But since the 
Hexameter's arsis always fell on the first note of 
each bar, that is, since the first note of its bar was 
accented, and not the second, like the Iambic's was, 
it was unnecessary for him to introduce that rest 
before the commencement of the Ithyphallic, since 
there would be now no collision of accented longs. 
So he could keep the 4 feet of the Hexameter un- 

I As the is shortened in the 2nd fragment in Hephcestion, and 
in the 3rd fragment. 

2 Plutarch. 28. Trpocra^evpe koX Trjv alg rovg ov\ ofioyeveig 

pvOfiOVg £VTa(7(V. 



impaired. And the compounded verse stood as 
follows : — 


3#> «« \ m ^m \ m «>« \ m mm \^m m \ m m \ m •\ m M 

Here is a contrast indeed ! 

And he permitted himself the same freedom in 
the last syllable of the Hexameter phrase, although 
there was no rest now to excuse it, as he had 
previously done in the last syllable of the Iambic 
Phrase, that is to say, he made it adiaphorous or 
common in quantity, making it short or long as he 
pleased. As in the following example : — 

Kai l^{}a-aag op-i-MV cv(T-7ranraXovg oi-og rjv £7r' ij - (5r}g. 

— KJ KJ — — — \J \J — KJ — \J — — 

Here it is naturally short, 

X.-J !_L J__^S N,' J _S_S ' J _S SI H J S) I _>s | I ^ ' I ' 

fci^=3i-_|-^_:rtjgz]:-^ #q:::rtz'^ <i^:n:3E J ~]" # _g._] j> ~^"^ ~::t: 

TOL-OQ yap <j>iX6 -Tii]-Tog ii-ptog viro KapSi -av I - \v(t - Otig. 

— — — \J \J — \J \J — \J KJ — \J — \J — — 

Here he has introduced the extra syllable of the 
popular poets at the beginning of the Hexameter, and 
so somewhat assimilated it to the Iambic : — 

^ Plut. 28. 7rp(ji)T(i) oi. avT(jo ri roo7 ijpwov avt,r)(Tig cnrocicOTai. 

2 Fragment 115 in Bergk. Obviously another explanation would be to 
explain the last s-yllable of the Hexameter part, as a short with ciXoyia 
but this would not bear the remotest relation to Hephsestion's rou//. 

3 Frag. 103 in Bergk, 


f ^ ( \ 

\ I I f\ \ I I iv IV I ' II I I k I I S I I III' 

£ - oj-dev 'i-Kaarov eiri-vav kv Se [iaK-)(^L-rj - mv. 

\j : — WW — WW — w — w — — 

And here there is something more to remark, for there 

is a rest here of a full ^ bar. And the Greeks 

called this a ksvoq TerpuKig, or " empty beat of 4 times," 
(for they measured each bar by the number of shorts 
it contained, and each bar of the Hexameter contains 4 
shorts), and so the strict name for that other rest, p, was 
KEvoc Bixpovog, or "empty beat of 2 times ;" and as 

they expressed the (^ by A , so they expressed the 

KBvbg TerpuKig in this way a .^ And this was likewise 

the invention of Archilochus. 

And here he uses it again, and also the extra 
syllable at the beginning in like manner : — 

1 Frag. 83 in Bergk. 

2 The term ^ivpovog however was not technically applied, but it 
was called kevoc;^ fxaKpbg, or "long empty beat," which was however 
equivalent to the fxaKpa ^iypovoQ, ^ • Of rests as of notes there were 
eventually 5 in number:— the Kivog jSpa^vg, A = *| ; the Kevbg 
fiuKpog, /^ or -jr = I* -^ the K^vbg fxaKpbg rplg 1\ = 

]* • ; the KEVOC /nuKpbg rerpaKig, M = j-. ; and the kevo^- 

fiaKpbg irevTUKig M-^ = .». 1 . (Anonymus. 102.) The 

MSS. write reaaapig instead of rerpaKig, which may be the 

true reading. Some MSS. write this rest '-^' , and the 

KEVOC TjOic, i_, which latter is obviously a mistake ; for 
L is the sign of the fxoKpa, rpixpovog cf. supra p. — 


II I II I k 1^1 I > I I ' >^i ' Is' ' I I 

aa-TMV S' Of jxlv KaTO-nuaOev rj -aav o'l cl ttoX - Aoi. 

And now let us admire the bantering tone and the 
gay abandon of the measure. For Mueller has well 
said, that the song with which the Athenians saluted 
Demetrius Poliorcetes, and it was one of these 
measu<res, "shows the character of the Athenians at 
that period better than all the declamations of 
rhetorical historians." 

tt)Q 01 fXtyiOTOL TU)V 0£WV KOI (piXraTOi 

Ty TToXet Trapeimv. 

— \J — KJ — • — 

The looseness, the gay abandon of those degenerate 
Athenians — and how the Ithyphallic line expresses it. 

But this verse of Mueller's is not strictly in the 
same measure as the compound verses of Archilochus 
of which we have been speaking, but is a developed 
form of them, which he developed later on. And this 
yet remains to be said, how from the combination of 
Hexameter and Ithyphallic, or Iambic and Ithyphallic, 
with equal, and often with a pause or rest 
between, he developed another and maturer form of 
Verse, which has won him yet more renown. For he 
developed the Epode,^ which must not however be 
confounded with the Choral Epode, and is more 
properly described as the first attempts at a definite 
Musical Period. Which period should recur ; and it is 
probable that his passion for the Refrain led him to 

I Frag. 8 1 in Bergk. 
2 TTjOWTto §£ awTfiT TO, T fTTwSa a-Ko^kZoTai (Plutarch). 


this form. And it is best described as the fusion of 
two verses, so that the sound should run on beyond 
the limits of the line, till it attained a natural 
musical close at the end of both. And here are some 
of the Epodes of Archilochus, and we shall see that 
in them he uses complete verses and no longer merely 
fragments, or rather, the first verse is a complete verse 
and the second is a fragmentary verse, which brings 
the musical period to a close. 

_ —\J\J —WW _ww _ww 

W — W — W — W — 

KJ — \J — \J — W — \J — 

W — W — W_ W — 

Tliis form also is found 

W_ w_ 

— W — W _ W — 

And here is a very extended form, 

-WW — WW — WW — w — w — 

w — w — w — w — w — — 


W — W — W_W — __W — 

— WW — WW — 

W — W — W — w w w 

— w w _ w w _ 

which is the way with them all, for they all run on 
like this. 

Archilochus also extended the Iambic into the 
Paeon Epibatus (17 tov iafx(5eiov -rrpbg tov eTrtjSarov Tratwva 

w — w — w w w 



and other innovations (KaivoTo/biia) besides these, of 
which only the tradition remains. ^ 

I The various inventions of Archilochus I will now state, and I must 
say that a great deal of the light that is able to be shed on them is 
due to the admirable Westphal, who is the Aristoxenus of Greek Musical 
History and pioneer of all our knowledge. The somewhat confused 
account of Plutarch, therefore, he has digested in the following form, 
showing only too plainly that Plutarch has given us in reality two 
accounts mixed up together, which Westphal has thus separated : — 

A. I. 

aXXa fa)v Koi 'Ap\t\o\OQ 
r?jv Tfoi' Toiiidrpdw pv6- 
fiOTToiiav irpoaeEitvoe. 

A. II. 

Kcii r7ji' £(c rove ou^ 
of-io'yiVHg pvujiovQ ivratnv. 


A. III. 
TTopa Koro A oy i) v. 

A. IV. 


B. I. 

TTOiOT'i) TE aVThj TU T tTTdJCa, 

Ktti Td rerpa/xiTpa, 

Koi TO KOr^TlKOV, 

Kal TO TTpocroSiaKov cnroctcoTai, 
KciL 77 Tov rjpioov cwt,i]aig, 

VTT tVili)l> Of KUL TO fAfyflOV. 

B. II. 
Trpog Of TOVTOig 1/ re tov 
Icifx^^iov Trpog tov £7rt€arov 
iraiwva IvTctmg, 

Kcii 1) TOV r\v^r\iJiivov i')p<i>ou 
tig r£ TO TrpoaohiaKov koI to 


B. III. 

- tTL Of TiOl' la/H^eihJV TO TO, 

fxiv AtjiaOai irapu tijv koov- 
mv TU S' nSeaOai. 

B. IV. 

VTTO Till' (ijOriV TOVTOV TTpW- 

Tov evpHv' Tovg S' apy^aiovg 
TTUVTag Trp6(T)(^op8a Kpovuv. 

In which arrangement ihere are one or two things I might be inclined 
to object to, as the placing 17 roi; i]p(ijov av'^rjcrig in the 1st category, 
when it comes much better in the second. But I think I have 
Westphal with me in eliminating the Cretic and Prosodiac from the list 
of Archilochus' inventions, since Glaucus of Rhegium in the roth chapter 
s made expressly to say QuXriTav /iSfXifxriaOai fitv TU 'Apxi^oX^'^ 



And metres grew beneath his touch, as clay in 
the hands of a sculptor, to express every shade 
of feeling. And he expressed his jibes in the 

ovkIO' 6/twc OaWng airaXov XP^*^ Kap(j)eTai yap ^jorj. 

" Your face has no bloom, my dear ; for the wrinkles 
are coming alreadyT'^ 

And his love he expressed in the Trochaic,^ and the 
love of Archilochus is lit with the antique gallantry. 
" For Oh ! coidd I but touch the hand of my NeobiUe" 
says he, " hoiu happy ivere I T^ 

And he expressed his scorn in the Iambic. And 
the scorn of Archilochus — we know but too well what 
it was. 

fd\r\ K.r.X. Kttt YlaiMva Kcti Kprjrticoy pvOjiiov elg ti)v //eXo- 
TTOuav IvOnvai ol g ^ A p \ i \ o\ o v fxi) \p rj (t a i. Besides 
which we have no trace of such a rhythm in any of the fragments. As to the 
Paeon Epibutus we may leave that, Avhich is perhaps a later definition of a 
line of five dotted crotchets, 

This may perhaps be an explanation, or perhaps it may be half that old 
Terpandrian, line that Archilochus used, ZfO iravruyv dPYU, as it is 
written by some in lines of this length, and Archilochus may really have been 
employing these. As to the attribution of the Cretic to Archilochus, I 
imagine that arose from reading the concluding passage of his Trochaic 

Tetrameter J J^j J • | ^S all One bar, _ >^ _, and this would 
be the reason. As to the Prosodiac, I cannot tell. I had thought of 


alvog Tig 



TTWV oSe I but it will not do. 

1 Fragment 100 in Bergk. 

2 For the other uses of the Trochaic, e.g. ov ^tXtw fxejav (TTpaTTfjov, 
Sic, see Miiller and others. 

3 £t yap wc E/UOi yivoiTO xetpa NgoSouXrjc B'tyttv, Frag- 
ment 71 in Bergk.) the gallant sentiment which Elmsley has murdered 
by joining it on to icai irecreiv Sp/jorrjv ett' cktkov Kciirl yacrrpl 
aaaripa, and the writer of this book must protest against the indis- 
criminate piecing together of fragments, especially when the connection is 
so at variance as in these lines. 


And his scorn will survive him for ever. And his 
fame was great in Greece for the wonders he had 
done in Poetry and Music. And every year of the 
Olympic games, a song of his was sung before the 
contests were allowed to begin, and this remained a 
custom in Greece for ever.^ And the following epitaph 
was written on him : — 

^Ap)(^l\6)(^ov Tooe Gr]fxa tov etc \va(TU)VTaq lafx^ovg 
Tjyaye MatovtSy Movaa ■)(^apit^ofdvrj. 
He was so great, the Muses were afraid lest even 
Homer's fair fame might suffer by comparison. 

He was the last of the minstrels, it should seem. 
I mean he seems to close that long roll that had 
extended down from Homer. For there was a great 
deal of softness making its way into life now, which 
he seems to have been free of, and those who came 
after him were not free of it. And we would 
willingly show the minstrel passing into the courtier 
in the person of that feminined Archilochus, and it 
is Anacreon I mean, but we must leave him at the 
court of Polycrates, singing the beauty of Bathyllus 
and drinking his Samian wine, for we must pass from 
the lonians to the Cohans, for the scene of our 
history shifts to Lesbos, where the nightingales sang 
the sweetest of all Greece,^ and the head of Orpheus 
and his lyre had floated here after it had been thrown 
into the river Hebrus. 

Er£'o mehint dochim ferro caput et caput ipsum 
In mare projiciiint didcisonamqite fideni, 

QucB dum fiuctus agit sacrata ad littora Lesbi 
Omne mare atgue ovinis sonat insula? 

1 Pindar. Olymp. IX. i. 

2 Antigonus Carystius ii 

3 Phanocles in Stobseus — Tit. 64. 

2 Antigonus Carystius in his chapter on Nightingales says this of 


The sea tuned his waves to melody, and the 
islands sang as it passed by. And the head of 
Orpheus was buried in Lesbos. And the wheat of 
Lesbos was as white as snow, and the vines ran 
trailing on the ground, so that little children 
could pick the grapes by stretching out their hand.^ 
And here was Sappho singing. And we may picture 
her sitting in some marble court overlooking the 
^gean, among her companions and her loves. And 
there was Cydno, and Anactorie, and Andromeda, and 
Gyrinna, and Eunice, and Gongyla, and Erinna, who had 
to leave them all and go back to her spinning again ; 
and Atthis, and Telesippa, and Megara. And these last 
were the three she loved the most.^ And she was a little 
dark woman with black hair,^ and Alcseus says that 
she had a beautiful smile.'* And she had the 
passions of Semiramis. All the amours of Aphrodite 
put together would scarcely equal the amours of 
Sappho.s And she panted for that love which seems 

I See the panegyric of Archestratus in Athenaeus' Banquet, and 
Longus in his 2nd Pastoral says of the vines 'they creep along like 

^ vpog ag kol SmSoXrjv tirx^v alcrxpag (j)i\(ag. (Suidas.) 

^ IMKpav ovaav koL jxiXaLvav, says Maximus in his 24th Disserta- 
tion. " Sum brevis," (Ovid) in the same way. 

^ loTr\6\ ayva fxe\Xf)(^6iJ.ei^e Sa7r0o7, Alcaeus speaks of her, 
" Sappho with the dark hair and the kind smile," where we may well admire 
that such a scholar as Miiller should translate tOTrXo YE, " with violets in her 
hair," and Liddell and Scott translate still more sti-angely, "weaving violets." 
Where it is plain that iottXov' is simply " violet haired," or " dark haired," 
= lOTrXoKajuoc, as we have wXoKog used for TrXoKa/nog in 
Sophocles for instance, tov^' lyw rifjivb) ttXokov, and doubtless 
in other writers too. 

5 Atque alise centum quas non sine crimine amavi. 


SO strange, where women love each other.^ And her 
dearest love was a Parian girl, called Atthis, and we 
have mentioned her among the others. And these 
things were common among the Lesbian women at 
that time,2 and other and rarer things too which we 
cannot well here describe, for they invented strange 
ways of gratifying their passions, and made a study 
of licentiousness. And Sappho excelled them all.^ 
And the story that she drowned herself for the love 
of Phaon I do not believe, but think it was one of 
the many fables which the Lesbians conjured up 
about their Queen of Womcn."^ For the story reads 
like our own legend of Faust. For Phaon was an 
old ferryman who used to ferry people across the 
river Cayster, and Venus gave him a box of magic 
ointment, which changed him from an old man into 
a young, of such surpassing beauty that every one 
who saw him fell in love with him, and all the women 
in Lesbos were after him.S But other accounts say 
that he had found that magical herb, called erynge 
or centuui capita^ which is not found once in a 

1 Marium vices in opere cum puellis serebat, as Giraldi puts it in his 
Dialogue on the Histories of the poets, and in the loth book of Turnebus' 
Adversaria the question, An Sappho Hermaphroditus esset, is gravely discussed. 
Such was the (rvvyOua among the members of this fair fraternity, that of 
one only, viz. Erinnn, could it be said, 7]V QTUipa '2a-(j)0vg Koi ETfAEurrjcrt 
Trapoivog. The attempt of Maximus Tj'rius to make Sappho into a female 
Socrates, and Atthis and Anactoria into Phsedrus and Charmides, is excusable 
perhaps in that elegant and refined sophist, but sufficiently ludicrous in th* 
modern Germans who have followed in his steps. 

2 Lucian's Dialog. Meretric. 5. 

^ 3 The^ usual name that Sappho was known by in Lesbian society, was 

4 TO //fXt-^pov av)(r]iijLa Aecrt^iwv, 
5 The story is told in JE lian's Various Histories XII. 18. 


century, but whoever has the good luck to find it, 
he shall straight be beloved of any of the opposite 
sex that behold him.^ So that it seems we are in 
the land of legend when we get to Phaon. 

And Sappho had been married to a wealthy 
Andrian of the name of Cercolus, when she was 
very young. And she had a little daughter, named 
Clefs, and she says somewhere, " I have a little 
daughter and she is like golden flowers, and I would 
not give her for all the wealth of Lydia, or even for 
my own dear Lesbos." 

But when Clei's grew up she caused her mother 
much grief, and so did Charaxus who was Sappho's 
brother, for he had all the wildness of his sister, 
with none of her refinement to carry it off, and he 
formed a ruinous connection with a notorious 
Egyptian courtesan, named Rhodopis, and squandered 
all his money, and plunged himself in the most abject 
poverty and misery. So that she had much to trouble 
her amid all her beautiful life. 

And Socrates will have it that she was handsome, 
but other Greeks will not allow it, for she was a 
little woman with dark hair, and to come up to the 
Greek notion of beauty she ought to have been tall 
and stately, and have had light hair. But she was 
certainly very pretty, for how could she have been 
otherwise P^ And she was full of fire and passion, and 

I This is the addition we get from Plin3^ 
t^ 2 Ciofanus well hits it off in distinguishing between venusta and 
^julcra. Sappho was venusta, but not pulcra, for pulchritudo, according to 
Aristotle, consists in magno corpore (tallness was indispensable). We 
make the same distinction between pretty and handsome. The Greeks 
and Romans had a most unaccountable penchant for light hair. of. 
Virgil on Dido's, where there is no doubt that, geographicall)' speaking, 
Dido's h:ur ought to hava been dark; ^lian on Alexander the Great's, 
who was cnrpayiu6vu)g wpaiog, for his hair, ttiv fxlv ycio KOfxriv 
avacreavouai, E,av9t}v ot eivat, &C. 


is the acknowledged mistress of the Systaltic or 
" Thrilling " Style of Music/ of which very likely she 
was the inventress, and so it is out of compliment 
to her introducing a new style into Music that Plato 
has called her the Tenth Muse, and Ausonius the 
Muses' sister, and she is always reckoned among the 
Nine Poets of Greece, being one woman among eight 
men.2 For the theorists of later times acknowledged 
Three Styles of Greek Musical Composition. There 
was the Hesychastic, or Tranquil Style, and there was 
the Systaltic, or Thrilling Style, and lastly, the 
Diastaltic, or Violent Style.^ And we are here 
speaking of the first two. And the Hesychastic Style 
lasted from Homer down till now. And if we may 
still call Archilochus the last of the Minstrels, we may 
say the Hesychastic Style was the style of the 
Bards and Minstrels, and ended when they ended. 
Although we shall find it reappear in later 
days among the Dorians. And we know how the 
tranquillity of Homer and the heroic poets was 
secured — that it came from the equality of the arsis 
and thesis in each foot, and this communicated an 

^ avcTTaXriKOQ rpoirog. ^i ov avvdyerai i) ^I'X'' ^'^ 
raTTEa'orrjra icai avavBpov ^laOecriv. apfioau Se to tolovtov 
KaraarriiLia roTg IpwTLKolg ircWiai koi ^pfivoit; /cat o'lKTOig (cat 
Tolg ■TrapaTrXrfmoig. Manuel Bryennius, Harmon, p. 391. 
2 Pindar, Simonides, Stesichorus, Ibycus, Alcman, Bacchylides, 
Anacrecn, Alcseus, and Sappho. 

3 Aristides. (TvaTaXriKog, " contracting, agitating " ; 
ciacTTaATiKOg is less eas}' to render. Is it " relaxing," "unloosening" ? 
The word ' violent ' in the text does not pretend to be a translation, but 
only to give the character of the style. I differ somewhat in my application 
of the styles from M. Gevaert. 


air of repose to the whole, which even strokes of 
excitement could not disturb. And although this 
repose was lost in the verses of Archilochus, where 
the arsis and thesis were no longer equal, but one 
was just double of the other, yet there was this 
much of Hesychastic about his verse, that the 
metre went on as it began ; for if it began with 
a heavy accent followed by a light one, _'w, it 
went on as such, or with a light one and then a 
heavy one, w_', in like manner. And we know how 
careful he was to avoid the clashing of two longs, 
which threw the flow of the measure into disorder, 
and that he introduced rests for the purpose of 
avoiding this. So that we are still in the Hesychastic 
Style with him, though we feel we are on the 
outskirts of it. But this little woman, her blood was 
on fire, and she broke through all the traditions of 
the past, which had lasted from Homer downwards, so 
as to speak out to the full the warmth of her 
passions. And this is the point of the Systaltic 
Style, that it has neither the repose of Homer, nor 
even the regularity of flow of Archilochus, but the 
metre is broken up and riven by the passions that 
rage underneath, or like a hot wind striking a lake, 
and throwing it into a thousand little foams. And this 
feature of the Systaltic Style, the Greeks called avriOecng, 
or " Contrast of Accent,"^ for she made Iambuses to 
succeed Trochees, and Trochees Spondees, longs clashed 

I Aristoxenus, p. 36, 15. 'AvnOiaeL St ^lacpepovcriv 
aAAT/Awv ot TToSfc ot Tov avu) Trpog rov kutu) avriKeifxevov 
ixovreg' earai ol 77 cia<popd avrr] iv roig 'icroig /xlv nviawg 
0£ e^ovdi TOV avu) ;>(^^ovov Kai tov kuto) Tarayfiivovg. 


against longs, and shorts against shorts, and in her 



verse it was hke silver things clashing against each 

— KJ \ — wlw \ \J 

a - t Trapui- voq f<r - aofxai 

where Iambuses clash with Trochees. 

— — I — w I W — ^ 

Tov Fov iralda KoXei 
the same. And to take a longer instance, 

I I 1 I 3 

X^^p^ ■'''V" ' " ^ yw/x - €p£ TToAArt 

or the following, 


I I I I I 4 

^aircjiol, Ti Tiiv ttoXu - oX€oi' 'A^po - ^irav ; 

w — \ \j — |wwl_wl_yl — y 
£;^a fxlv 'Av-Spo- jU£ -Sa Ka-Xav a/i - oi^av 

where we have a new foot that we have not met 
with before, the Pyrrhic, which was now finding its way 
from the Dance into regular verse. And perhaps it is 
used in order to break the clash a little of the two longs 
like Archilochus' rest was, for if Archilochus had written 
these verses, he would have put a rest between the 
w_and the _w, to take off the edge of the clash. 
But Sappho puts in a Pyrrhic instead, which is a weak, 
colourless little foot, but has this merit, that the verse 
can now be read straight on, and yet the accent 
changed as freely as may be. 

* By aXoyia, 

1 Fragment 96 in Bergk. 

2 Frag. 117 in Bergk. 

3 Frag. 105. 

4 Sappho in Hephsestion, cap. 14. 

5 Sappho in Hephaestion. 


And here is a beautiful instance of this use of the 
Pyrrhic : — 

\j — Iwwl — \j \ —. \J 
Se-Sv - K£ fxev a cte- \a-va 

\j' — rwwl — wi — w 
Koi nXrj-t-a 0£C) f^^- '^ai o£ 

v>* — I w y I — w I _ w 
vvKT£Q, irapd o f'px^^' wpa, 

\j — |wwi_wl_w 
iyo* Se fxo - va KaO-evcto. 

" The Moon is sinking, and the Pleiades are sinking, 
and it is midnight now, and the promised hour has 
passed, and I am sleeping alone." 

But here there is not even a Pyrrhic to break 
the clash, and the two longs strike hard against each 
other : — 

KJ' I w!w_l_wlw — Iwwlw — Iw — ^ 

vv/uKpaigraXg A- ibg IE,- oIvl- 6)(^(i) (^aai rarvj- (.livaLQ. 

And all the songs in her third book were written in 
this measure. 

Or let us take that complaint which she puts in 
the mouth of Erinna, 

\j — \ \j — __ \ \j — ! — wlw — \ \j — \ \j I 

•yXu keT - a fxa-Ttp ov - rot Sw - vafxai KpeKUv rbv lar - ov. 

w — lw_lw__|_v-/|y_lw^_|w_|_^ 
TToBdj ^a/j.£i(T-a irai - Bog jSpa - Biviiv Bi 'A0- ipoBi - rav. 

And ten songs in her 7th book were written in this 
measure. And it is indeed more regular than the 
last instance, but still the principle of her style is 
still apparent, for the long syllable in the 3rd foot 
is forced into the ist place in the 4th foot, and back 
again in the 5th foot into the 2nd place ; and in 

I Sappho in Hephaestion, 3 Sappho in Hephsestion, 


the former instance we took, this forcing of the 
emphasis takes place at every other foot, so that it 
reads at first Hke a great confusion. 

And how did she reduce these conflicting elements 
into order? And she did this by the perfection of 
her phrasing, which was always most clear and 
sharply impressed on her measures. And generally 
she phrased in Triple Rhythm, like that which Homer 
was so sparing of, but which now was most commonly 
used, so much had Triple Time grown in the 
interim. But also she used the Double Rhythm, 
and sometimes even a Quadruple Rhythm, as we 
shall see. And her clear cut phrasing was in a 
manner forced upon her, from the irregularity of her 
accents, or as the Greek theorists would term it, from 
her use of the Antithesis, for had she not com- 
pensated for this forcing of the accents by some such 
means as this, the metre would have tottered under 
it. For if we read these lines that we have written, 
by feet alone, we shall make but little beauty out 
of them, for the accents will confound and disturb 
our ears, e.g. 

'^aircpoi ri rav &c. 

Kj — Iv — Iwwi — w|_wl — w 

or the still more difficult one 
vvfX(j)aig TOig, &C. 

KJ \j \j \J KJ — WW \J — \J — 

but if we read them by Phrases instead, we shall 
hear the Rhythm singing on, despite the ups and downs 
of the Emphasis, 


^OTT^oT, Tl TCIV TToXvoXjdoV ^ A(j)p0^lTaV ', 

Xcup^ Tifjii- £ yajildpe ttoXXu. 
and in the last one, 

vvfX(^aiQ Toig Ai-og £s alyi-6)(^u) ^acrl TeTvy/uiivaig. 
And the clear phrasing, which we see was so necessary 
in lines like this, and which characterised Sappho 
and all the Lesbian School, afterwards led, so firmly- 
drawn was it, to the evolution, or rather to the 
transformation of these Rhythmic Phrases from 
Rhythmic Phrases into Metrical Feet, and the 2 
Iambuses began to pass into a Diiambus, and the 2 
Trochees into a Ditrochee, and the phrase of Iambus 

and Trochee, \j _ | _w,into another compound foot 
called the Antispast (avTiairaaTog, ' torn asunder ' ), 
because she had torn the bars asunder to make it. 

So then these clashing feet, as we said, she buckled 
together by the golden bands of Rhythm, and by 
this means was enabled to make havoc of Emphasis, 
and charge her line with the strongest accentual 

But when she chose to write in regular falls, and 
make symmetry of emphasis, no one could do it 
better than she could. And that which we know 
as the Sapphic Metre is an instance of this. And 
it is a woman's Hexameter. And there is a charming 
timidity about it which makes the difference ; or per- 
haps she is not tall enough and cannot reach so 
high ; for look, when we come to compare it with 
the real Hexameter, lo ! it is one foot too short. 

Hexameter. _\-'w_wv^_ww_v.>'w_ww 

Sapphic. ^v „w_vv^_w —\j 



And is it that she is coy at beginning, or does 
she falter at the end ? 1 cannot say. But I think 
that of the two she falters at the end, for in that 
Adonic that comes at the end of each timid little 
stanza, she summons up confidence at last, and 
finishes her Hexameter as all Hexameters of course 
ought to be finished, _ww 

And it is the feminine heroic, and is such a 
strain as the Graces might sing, or the rosy Hours 
that lead in the summer. 

And it is in this verse that she invokes the Goddess 
of Love to come gliding through the air in her chariot 
drawn by sparrows, and lend her her aid in softening 
her lover's hard heart. •' And if you come as you 
came before," she says, " with your beautiful face all 
smiles, he will soon pursue me instead of avoiding me, 
and give me presents instead of refusing mine, and 
snatch those kisses he now scorns to accept."^ 

And she is the singer of love as Homer is of 
battles. " All her fellow poets," says the sophist 
Himerius, " have made over to her by common consent 
the ofifice of celebrating the rites of Venus with lyre 
and song. She penetrates into the secrets of the 
bridal chamber. She prepares the nuptial bed, and 
marshals the attendant virgins. She brings Venus and 
the Loves in a troop from heaven, tricks their hair with 
hyacinths and gold, and then conducts the bridegroom, 

I However much the writer could have desired to adopt Bergk's 
conjecture, kwvk iQi\oiaa, since he ahnost agrees with Bergk that 
" omnino Sappho a virorum amoribus abhorrebat," yet in the present 
case the correction seems somewhat arbitrary, and we must reluctantly take 
it that a man is here meant. 


escorted by the Loves and Graces, into the presence of 
the bride ; and hkens him in the valour of his deeds 
to Achilles."^ And a passage of this kind yet remains, 
and it is a Homeric description of the exploits of the 
hero and heroine. And the hero is compared to Mars 
on his way to battle : 

yam^pbg hiTEpxeTat Icrog 'Aprjt. 

At the outset of the engagement the heroine utters the 
bold exclamation : 

ad irapBlvog taaofxai. 

But this confidence after a time subsides a little, yet 
still she persists : 

y\ ptri irapOiviag liri^dXXoinai. 

But at last her firmness of purpose seems to be giving 
way entirely, for we hear her addressing Parthenia : — 

irapBevia, TrapOsvia, ttoT ^e Xiiroid aTroi^y ', 

To which Parthenia replies : 

" Never again^ never again]' 

ovKeri Tj^M Trpog at' ovKiri rj^w. 

Then comes the triumphal hymn celebrating the hero's 
victory, who is now 

^avoig cnraXag eraipag 

Iv (TTrtSeam. 

And the final reconciliation between him and his fair 
adversary we are left to imagine soon takes place, for 

juaXd Sr) KeKopr]fxiva 
she has forgiven him now, and 

Ti jU£ Ilapoiovtc oypavia ^eXiowv ; 

I Himerius. Declamatio I. 


chides the twittering of the swallows, which announces 
the approach of day.^ 

And who is it she has addressed in that second 
Sapphic ode that is preserved to us ? One cannot but 
think »it is Atthis she is addressing, for she loved her 
so passionately. " What heavenly bliss," she says, " to 
sit by your side, and hear the music of your voice, and 
gaze on your lovely smile ! But if another sits by you, 
my heart sinks, my tongue falters, my lips refuse their 
office. A subtle fire races through my veins, my eyes 
get dim, and I hear noises buzzing in my ears. And a 
cold sweat breaks out on me, and a trembling shakes 
my limbs, and I get as pale as a sheet, and am like 
to die, and gasp for breath." This is Sappho. 

And elsewhere she says to Atthis again, " Love 
dissolves my every limb ; it creeps through me, over 
me, and I can't resist it ; and it is so bitter and yet so 
sweet." But if there were rivals in the way, she could 
speak as a woman should speak. " Who is this slut 
with a draggle-tailed gown that has got hold of you 
next ? Awkward thing that she is ! she shows her 
ankles every time she walks. "^ And the slut in question 
was Andromeda, who it appears had effected a temporary 
lodgment in Atthis' affections.3 So that there were 
bickerings in this fair coterie we may see, and no doubt 

1 Much of the above is taken from Mure, who has the honour of 
being the first to piece these beautiful fragments together. 

2 Sappho in Athenajus. p. 21. 

3 That Andromeda was a rival of Sappho's in the affections of 
some of her friends may well be inferred f.iom Maximus' remark, who 
makes Andromeda stand for Thrasymachus or Protagoras in his ideal 
construction of the Sapphic community, cf. also 

"Ardig, CTOL c i/mtOev julv aTTi]\Qiro 
^^ovri<jCy\v IttX o ^Avopofuiicav Tvori, 


horrid rivalries at times. " You were a mere chit when 
I knew you first," she says to Atthis on a similar 
occasion, or perhaps it was on this very occasion ; " and 
very plain too, mind that ! "^ But the following dates 
from a happier period, when the good relations of the 
fraternity were fully established again : " Tell the son 
of Polyanax that he needn't come here after any of 
us, for it's no good."^ 

Now what the Lesbian School of Music did for the 
development of the Art, briefly was this : They 
introduced the Systaltic Style, and of that we have 
spoken already. But they also developed the Musical 
Period to its perfection, of which wc see the germs 
in Archilochus. And Archilochus had combined two 
different verses together, with no pause between them, 
(for the pause between comes in his earlier days, 
before he had conceived the idea of a regular musical 
period), and these two verses were in constant sequence 
and fused together in such a way, that the sound 
ran on beyond the limits of the ist line, till it 
attained a natural musical close at the end of both 
And the Lesbian School developed this to its due 
completion, for they combined more than two lines 
in constant sequence, and generally it was four lines 
that they combined, so that the concluding cadence 
of the voice was put off for a comparatively long 
time, and the ear was trifled with and its expectation 
kept alive for that marked ascent or descent of the 
voice, which, when deliberately arranged and palpably 

^ (TjMKpa fxoi TTciig en (jyaiveo Kaxdpi^C- Sappho in MaximuS. 
I am reading here Kax^pig instead of ^apkaaa. I think it 
is Bergk's emendation. 

2 Sappho in Maximus. 


introduced, constitutes the Full Stop, or Period of a 
Musical Piece. And it was the genius of Archilochus 
which first conceived the possibility of tantalising or 
teasing the ear in this way, and so sustaining the 
interest of the musical narrative beyond the limits of 
one line. For in the music of Homer, and indeed 
of all the heroic poets, the cadence came at the end 
of every line with unfailing regularity, thus : 

C adenc e 

Homer ww \j \j ww ww 




That is to say, the voice fell, and there was a 
momentary pause, and then it began at the normal 
note again in the second line. 

But Archilochus, by combining two lines in constant 
sequence, kept the voice sustained at an equal level 
in the passage from the ist line to the 2nd, and the 
cadence was heard only when both had been completed. 
Thus : — 

Archilochus w_w_w_w_w_w_ 


I 1 

w w w w 

And now the Lesbian School carried this idea of 
Archilochus to its due completion, by sustaining the 
voice through Four lines instead of Two, thus : — 

Lesbians _w_w_ww_w_w 

W W WW W \J 

W W WW w w 


I 1 

\J \J 

And In this way was the Musical Period greatly 

tHE GkEEitS. 103 

And the Lesbian musician, who has the honour of 
being the first to conceive and put into practice this 
extension of the Archilochean Period, was fat Alcman, 
he that went to Sparta, and astonished the Spartans 
by his poems on cookery. And he has written such a 
beautiful poem on Sleep, and another called " The 
Girls Diving." But his praises of good cookery form 
the principal bulk of his poems, and these collected 
together furnished a volume of receipts, which remained 
the text book of gastronomers down to the time of 

And in Alcman we may see the transition from the 
Archilochean Period of 2 lines, to the complete Lesbian 
Period of 4 lines which we have just given. For he has 
periods of three lines, as this : — 

— W KJ \J — \J 



— w _ w _ w _ 

— — \J — \J — \J — \J 

— W \J \J — \J 



— \J — \J — KJ 

But Alcman's period of 3 lines soon passed into the 
complete period of 4, of which we have such beautiful 
examples in the works of Sappho and Alcaeus. And 
we have given the Sapphic Period, and now let us give 
the period of Alcaeus : — 

I Fragment in Bergk. The 3rd line of the 2nd Period is wanting, 
but this is obviously what it was. 




w WW WW 

w_w_w_w_ — 


I I 
WW \J \J — W — w 

W \J \J KJ \J KJ 

W W WW — WW 

w w — w 

W — — 


WW \J \J — KJ — W 

And Alcaius is he who loved the wart on his Lycus' 

finger. But if we were to limit our account of him 

to this, we should form a very unfair notion of the 

chivalrous, the high-souled Alcsus, who revived the 

spirit of the ancient minstrels in the voluptuous 

atmosphere of Lesbos. And it has always been a 

question, what w^ere the relations of AIcjeus to 

Sappho : whether he were a lover of hers ; for he 

addresses her, 

Iott\6^(^ ayva iU£Wi\6 finds "Ecnrcpo'i. 

^i\io Ti FsiTrriv aWu fxi kmXvsi alciog. 

And he pays her the compliment of using her 

Metrei in addressing her, and he infuses the same 

tenderness into it here, which she nearly always 

employs. For she produces her tenderness by the use 

of that Weak Caesura in the third foot, which effects 

the partition of the Dactyl after the ist short syllable, 

_ w I w , and this was called also the Feminine 

Caesura, in opposition to that other partition of it, 

which effected the division precisely in the middle 

_ I w w, which was called the Strong or Masculine 

Caesura. And this method of tenderness Alcaeus uses 

here too. But when he employs the Sapphic metre on 

1 A form?, varia, with an unaccented syllable at the beginning of the 


other occasions, as he sometimes does, we may see the 

difference between a man and a woman using the same 

materials to work with, and notice how strong the line 

becomes under Alcseus' touch : — (and we will mark the 

strong Caesura with 2 strokes |1 , and the weak with 

one I ) 

aXX avijroj filv || irepi rale cepaicnv 
TrepOeTM irXeKraig || virb BvfxiSdg rig 
KaS 0£ ^avciTh) II /iiopov aci) /cat rw 

(TTiiOeog cifijui. 

But with Sappho the tender Feminine Caesura carries 

the day, or what is tenderer and softer still, the Caesura 

vanishes completely : — 

(paiveral fxOL Kr]vog \ "laog S'fot aiv 

'ififxiv ojvrip o(7Tig | ivavriog tol 

iaSavei kol 7r\{]cnov \ aovtpwva- 

aai <j vTraKOvei. 

Now the protraction of the cadence till the end or 
the 4th line by the Lesbian Poets we may go on to 
study minutely, and first we may give the very notes 
of which that cadence consisted. And Homer's cadence 
was probably very much like our common cadences, 
that is to say, it was a fall of a few notes, varying in 
extent as the cadences of speech do. And if the 

common key-note of recitation then were G 

which we may the more surmise, since it afterwards 
became the keynote of the Ionian Mode or Scale,i we 

may imagine such cadences as j^ — ^ — ^ — ^ — [~~"?^ — 

Bnt the cadences of the Dorians and Cohans were 
very different from this, and were as unlike our 
cadences as can well be imagined, for the cadence which 
the Dorian sinecers used at the end of their lines or 

I It will be found hereafter transported to F, but there is some 
doubt whether G is not the better form. Sir John Hawkins, i think, 
places the Ionian mode in G. 


periods was the powerful inverted cadence r)'. — p- 


and the cadence of the more effeminate Cohans, the 
cadence, that is to say, which was used by Alcaeus and 
Sappho, was the weaker, because more natural and 

easier cadence i::)! — cz^pzz And this occurred at the end 

of each musical Period, and marked the close. And as 
there was a stereotyped cadence, so there was a 
stereotyped method of accompanying that cadence on 
the Lyre, and in each case it was by the three notes : — 

zjj — ' 1 as, the Dorian '—-^^ — or 

-^~9— and the yEolian ^ — =^-#— or 

SiEe_=EEEE aiE^ 

■ ^ — -f^-* — which was also quite allowable since 



we have seen the discords of the 2nd 


r^T — I and others, in use in Archilochus' time.^ So 

the reform that we are considering meant the 
witholding of the entry of these three notes of the 
Lyre and 2 notes of the Voice till the conclusion of 

1 Westphal's Geschichte der Musik, I. The facts given here are the 
result of his most extended arguments, which bring out the position most 

The greeks. loy 

every 4th line. And since Homer did not accompany 
his words on the Lyre, his cadence occurring at the 
end of every hne would be Httle remarked. But the 
fact of a stereotyped Lyre accompaniment would 
bring it into relief more. And perhaps it was this 
which led Archilochus, who was the first to introduce a 
Lyre accompaniment, to think of putting off the cadence 
till the end of every second line, from the desire, that 
is, to avoid monotony. 

And now, as we said, it was put off till the end of 
every fourth, and the Period by consequence exactly 
doubled in length, being twice as long as the Archi- 
lochean Period, four times as long as the Homeric 
period, and 8 limes as long as the pre-Homeric period. 
In which we may discern the ordinary history of pro- 
cedure m the development of musical form. And 
let us go on to consider these ancient periods fused 
and diminished in the younger one, and what new 
complexions and relations they assumed in consequence. 
And the primitive pre-Homeric period was the Linus 
line, and the cadence then came at the end of every 3 

feet, —\j\j — \j\j But after the Linus line had 

been doubled, and so shaped into the Hexameter, the 
cadence came at the end of every six feet, and the old 

Period, _ww_ww , passed into a Phrase (kCoXovY 

of the New Period, which consisted of 2 Phrases 

! ^( ^ 

\J \J \J \J KJ \J — \J \J 



and was thence called irepiodog diKwXog, or Period of 

I This is Metricians' language. See infra p. — , where I shall prefer to 
take the terminology of the Rlaythmicians as the common one for use in 
this book. 


two Phrases. And this word kwXov, Colon, which we 
express by tv/o dots (:), has retained its name and 
its meaning (although we limit its meaning to the 
dots themselves, instead of extending it to the words 
which the dots partition off) down to the present 
time, for it is by Colons that we still mark the 
Phrases of the Hebrew Psalms, which indeed bear 
much resemblance in their structure to the con- 
formation of the Greek Hexameter. Thus, 

' The Lord is my shepherd : therefore can I lack nothing'. 

which if we were to express in common musical 
notation, we should write, — - 

( ; N r \ N 

'' The Lord is my shepherd : therefore can I lack nothins^!' 

First comes the Colon (:) in the middle, and then 
the Period (.) at the end, so that it seems we still 
keep up the ancient names, but with this difference, as 
I said, that we limit the words to the marks themselves, 
but the Greeks applied them to the words included 
within the marks. And the Hexameter line therefore 
consisted of 2 Colons, or Phrases, which together 
made the Period, and the voice fell in a Cadence to 
mark it. But when Archilochus put off the Cadence 
to the end of every second line, instead of keeping 
it at the end of every line, as it had used to be, 
what was the effect of this on the grammatical aspect 
of the music? Into what new relations were the 
parts of the musical sentence thrown, now that the 
Period was double its former length. This was the 
effect of it, and these were the new relations : — Just 
as the old Period of half a line had passed into a 
Phrase of the Period of a full line, so did the 
Period of a full line pass into a Phrase of the 
Period of two full lines. And this Ions: Phrase we 


shall prefer to call a Clause, in order that we may 
keep intact the terminology of Phrases for the parts 
that compose it : thus, 


Phrase. Phrase. 

\J \J \J \J \J w 


/'''T'hrase. Phrase?^ 

I N ( N 

W \J \J \J 

I I 



And now the Period was formed of 2 Clauses instead 
of 2 Phrases, because it contained two lines instead of 
one, and each of these lines, having ceased to be 
independent Periods directly the Cadence was post- 
poned to the end of the second of them, instead of 
being independent Periods of one line, became 
subordinate Clauses in the New Period of 2 lines. 

And when the Cadence was again postponed to the 
end of the 4th line this time instead of the 2nd, what 
were the new relations that were introduced then by 
this ? The same effects were repeated. And the 
Period of 2 lines became in its turn a subordinate 
Clause in the New Period of 4 lines, for it had ceased 
to be an independent musical sentence directly the 
Cadence (which is the full stop) was removed to the 
end of the 4th line, and each original Period of 2 lines 
became a subordinate Clause in the New Period of 4 
lines. But it was a Compound Clause, for it was 
composed of 2 simple Clauses of a line each, which had 
contributed to the making of it, just as it and its 
brother contributed to the making of the 4 lined Period 
in their turn. 



Thus the Musical Period, as we find it among the 
Lesbians, was composed of 2 Compound Clauses, which 
were each composed of 2 Simple Clauses, which were 
each composed of 2 Phrases, and all these component 
parts had been in their time Periods, and had grown 
into shape and subordination as we have described. 

And to express it to the eye we may write it as 
follows : — 





CompoundJ _ w _ w 

A ( ^ 

WW w w 





W WW w w 

TT^piocog oiKoyXog 

(Clause of 2 Phrases.) 

TTspio^og StKwAoc 

(Clause of 2 Phrases.) 



Clause. ' 




( N ! > 

W W WW w w 






Trepiocog ciKwXog 

(Clause of 2 Phrases.) 


(Clause of i Phrase.) 




And we have used the word ireptoSog in the margin, 
because this classification is mainly due to the 

I This musical construction of the Sapphic may well be compared with 
Westphal's construction of Dionysius' Hymn in his Antike Rhythmik, of 
which it is in some degree an imitation. 


metricians, who however would not extend their 
analysis beyond the limits of the line, for, unlike the 
Rhythmicians, they never considered the relations of 
many lines to each other, and therefore the original 
designation, Trepiooog, came to be retained for the line, 
whatever its relations might be, whether it were 
Clause, or Compound Clause, or Period, or whatever 
it might be. But this ambiguity of the Metricians 
can be avoided by the use of different words in the 
English translation.! 

Now we may well ask, what would be the effect of this 
extension of the Musical Period and protraction of the 
Cadence on the Voice? And it is plain that the 
Voice would gain greatly in sustaining power. For 
while in the Hexameter it was no sooner up than it 
was down again, and thus could never get beyond the 
limits of exalted recitative, it now had to withold 
its final fall for several lines, and in the meantime 
must remain soaring in mid-air. So that the tone of 
the Voice would become greatly beautified and enriched 
by the new conditions under which it was placed ; and 
then it had more liberty allowed it now, by the putting 
off of the stereotyped cadence for so long a period, and 
so greater attention would be paid to the notes the 
Voice should use than had formerly been the case, 
because it had now an ampler space to range in, and 
the necessity of variety was in a manner thrust on it. 
And it was natural that a woman should come to the fore 
as the exponent of the new ideas, which had expressed 

I The writer imagines that he has succeeded in reconciling the position of 
the rhymicians with that of the metricians. The diiferences between them 
are more apparent than real. The whole point of contention is well stated in 
Servius de Accent. 630. cf. also Marius Victorinus. 2481. 


themselves in the form of song, which we have just 
been examining, and which had, as will be seen, much 
in common with our Lied form, and doubtless as pro- 
nounced a bias to that element of Music which we 
know as Melody. And I say that it was natural 
that a woman should come forward as the leader of 
our art at present, for in the mystical language of 
Greek Theory, Music is a dualism, composed of the 
union and interpenetration of two elements, the one male 
and the other female — and the Male element is 
Rhythm, and the Female element is Melody, and 
these two in union form Music.^ So that when 
Melody began to predominate, as it did now, it was 
natural that a woman should come forward as its 
representative. And if Sappho's loves were not always 
excited by the voice, as the loves of many are, for 
many love the voice first and the woman after — and she 
too speaks with rapture of " the girl whose voice was 
so sweet "2 — it was at any rate her glory "to sing 
lovely strains, that should please the ear of her 
soft-skinned companions ".3 And a beautiful tone had 
ever been in request among the Greeks, but now more 
than ever. And the crispness of the phrasing, that 
we said characterised the rhythm, worked itself into the 
Melody. And especial care was used to take the 
intervals cleanly, and it was perfection when the two 
notes of the interval, the " boundary notes " as they 

^ tiv\q Of TMv iraXaiMV tov jiiv pvOfiov applv arr^icaXovv 
TO §£ juiXot; ^riXv' to fxlv ylt^ fiiXog av£vipyy)T6v t£ Icfti 
Kcii ua\i]fxaTiaTOv vArjc tin^ov Xoy"!^ ^'^' '^^W T^^og tovvuvtiov 
e7riTy]cuoTi}Ta, 6 ot pvUfxog ttXiitth ts uvto koi kivu rtray- 
juiivwi; TTOiovvTog Xoyov l7ri)(^iov Trpog to Troiovfm'ov. Aris- 
tides I. p. 43 in Meibornius. 

^ Trapvivov acixptovov. 

3 TttcE vvv ^Taipciig Toig aTTaXa7ai TepTTva KuXiog uhctw. 


were called, stood out in bold relief from the rest of 
the song, and that the ear might feel them strike it 
firmly and apart.^ And this was the more important 
in a melody which went as a rule di grado {ap.ia(i)q),^ 
for if firmly and beautifully executed, it secured a 
projection of outline to a style that was in other 
respects strikingly uniform. But yet there must be 
no break or jerkiness in taking the intervals, for 
anything approaching^ to that was what the Greeks 
abhorred. Hence we shall not be surprised that the 
flow of the notes themselves was regulated by the 
most scrupulous attention to smoothness, and that the 
most wonderful symmetry pervaded the relations of 
the notes to each other, I mean, their respective 
values ; for, according to the practice of Greek Music, 
notes must either be equal to their fellows in the 

bar, or double of them, that is j = to j , or 
double of J^ , and no other collocations were 

allowed ;4 for any such jerkiness as j . ^ , which 
is more like the popping of a pop-gun than musical 
harmony, was to the last utterly scouted in Greece, 
For the aXoyia of Archilochus, which gave a shade 

^ 6a oe TTJv (f)0jvriv rbv /uilv tov CLa(TTy]fxaTOQ tottov ov 
0££q€p>^£rat otI jxlv iTTLTUvojxivr] brk 0£ avufxevr] \avBavuv 
cii^iovaav, tovq o opi^ovrac (^tQoyyovg ra SiacFTi^jLiaTa Ivapyug 
T£ KOL e(TTr}K6Tag UTro^i^ovai. Anonymi, Script. 36. (Beller- 
mann's Edition.) 

2 I have often inferred this from Plutarch's remarks about Olympus, that 
he missed the Lichanos every now and then for the sake of producing a pleasing 
effect. But if intervals had not been comparatively rare, such an eifect would 
never have been noticed. 

3 Anonymus. 36, 

4 See infra, p.— The fiaKpd rpiariinog ■ I ^ could thus only stand in 
a bar by itself, as we have seen it stand in the Ithyphallic. 



of extension to short notes, was rather a delicate 
rallentando than an actual measure, and rather aided 
the smoothness than broke it. And the Cyclic Dactyl, 
which was a Dactyl to the time of a Trochee, had its 
value regulated on this principle of equality and 

doubling likewise, for in J ^ J* j^ ^^ ^^^^ t)e plain 

that the ist note is double of the 2nd, and both 
together are double of the 3rd. And indeed the effect 
of such collocations as are usual in modern music, e.£:, 

J . J* J ' J .. ^JT5 &c., is only tolerated by 
us because our ears have been inured to it from child- 
hood, since otherwise we should repel it with disgust. 
Whence they who would scan the Cyclic Dactyl, 

J^. J5 J^ > betray an ignorance of Greek Theory, and 

he who would measure his common Dactyls, J . ^^ > 

at a pinch, has not had his introduction or first 
lesson in it, and has yet to begin the alphabet of 

In this way then, by the operation of this great 
law of beauty, which we shall find pervading Greek 
Music to its very fountain head, and which we shall 
come to study in detailed operation presently, the 
Melody proceeded unruffled and beautiful along. And 
now we may imagine that the graces of song would 
first begin to be cultivated, which, though they may 
scarcely seem graces to us, were yet esteemed 
ornaments and graces in days when simplicity was the 
highest beauty. And the principal grace was the 
Prolepsis (7rp6X7]\pig), or Slur, and it consisted in singing 
one syllable to two notes, which must be done without 
making any ridges or creases in the tone, and this was 
harder then than it is now, for song was but newly born 
from Speech then, and tone and syllable -^ommonly 


went together. And the Trp6\r}\pig might occur in two 
ways. It might be (i.) di grado (afiecTMg) or (2.) dt salto 

(i) afxi(T(i)g 


j— , where the syllable was sung 

to two notes, the second of which was immediately 
{afii(T(jjg) above the ist. 

(2) IflJxicfijJQ 

7ra - - (Tiv ira-OLV ira - - cnv 

that is to say, the second note of the two was in this 
form of Trp6\r]\pig a 3rd, or 4th, or a 5th above the 
other one. But it does not appear that a greater 
interval than a 5th was ever taken in Prolepsis ; but 
only to separate syllables.^ And perhaps at the time 
we are writing of no greater interval than a 5 th, 
except the 8ve, was ever taken either in Prolepsis or 
out of Prolepsis, though in later times the 6th, 7th, 
and 9th were freely taken, but not in Prolepsis.^ 

And the Greek name for " Slur " was " Hyphen " 
(v(l)hf), and the Hyphen was written w, in which 

we may see the original of that curve "^ ^ by 

which we express our " slur." 

And when the Prolepsis occurred downwards instead 

1 The Anonymous writer. 4. Bryennius gives a slightly different account 
of the Prolepsis, for which see the History of Gevaert, who has adopted 
Bryenne's by preference. 

2 For examples see the Hymns of Dionysius, 


of upwards, it was called Eclepsis (eKXr]\pig) and pro- 
ceeded in the same way, that is, 

i— ^ 

/ 1 .^-. . . 

« ^ 

TTCl - 

_-^ — 1 — r~ 

- mv 


^' -^. 

And there was another grace of quite an opposite 
kind to this, which was called the Procrusis (wpoKpovaiQ) 
and this could only occur when two short syllables 
came before a long one, as in such words as jSao-tA^c, 
vTToxoi &C.2 And the Procrusis consisted in skimming 
lightly over the two short syllables, yet without 
hurrying their time at all, and then bringing out the 
full emphasis on the long one. And perhaps our own 
small grace notes will be a fair rendering of the 
Procrusis, and we may give the following example of 



fxeXt - Tj- c(a ol-vov. 
And in this example we have the Procrusis and the 
Eccrusis (ekkjoov(t<c) combined, for the Procrusis when 
it went downwards instead of upwards was called 
Eccrusis, just as the Prolepsis when it went down- 
wards was called Eclepsis, and here we have both. 

Then there was a grace called the Eccrusmus 
(eKKpova/uog,) which indeed was but an extended form 
of the Slur, but yet is defined in a very different 
way, for it is defined as " the repetition of a note, 

1 Anonymus. 5. 

2 Anonymus, 6. Whether we have exactly hit the Procrusis in out 
interpretation may admit conjecture. 

The gREei^s. 117 

with another and higher note intervening" {orav tov 
avTOv (pOoyjov dig Xafi^avofxivov fxiaoQ Trapa\aiu[5avrjTaL 
o^vTspog (ftOoyyog). Yet we may see it was but a variety 
of the slur, but this time the syllable is taken to three 
notes instead of two. 

eKKpovcrinog. ^ 


y=^. -3-~^_- tT^v -#^ 

Also £fxfii(j(jt)g. 

but no greater interval 
than the 5 th. 

And now in the next grace we may see the Greek 
love of smoothness most characteristically brought out. 
For it is the staccato that we are about to speak of, 
and it was called the KOfnrinfxog or " Saucy Grace." 
For while in our modern music we may have the 
staccato occurring in many notes following one another, 
the Greek ear would not tolerate this jerkiness, and 
the staccato was limited to one note at the utmost ; 
and what is more, the note that followed the staccato 
note must be the very same note sung legato, which 
was probably to take off the edge of the jerk in the 
most effectual manner that could be devised, so that 
no single tone might bear the reproach of acerbity, 
but must be smoothed down before another could be 

i Aiionymus. 8. 

2 Bryennius says it may also go iyu/^lffwc, HI- cap. 

3 Anonymus, 9. 

Il8 ttlStORY OF MLtS'lC. 

So the staccato was always sung in this way — with a 
legato note at the same pitch following it : — 

— » 

Ti jU7jv ; 


but never 

Ti fiy]v ; no av ] 

for it must be first smoothed down again before 
another eould be sung. 

Much more congenial to the Greek spirit was the 
fXikiGfxog or ^'' Cantabile Staccato" which answered to our 
" Connected Staccato." And we omitted to say that the 
Greek mark for the ordinary Staccato was ^. And for 
this Cantabile Staccato it was )(_ \j, that is to say, the 
Staccato mark and the Hyphen or Slur mark com- 
bined. And so this Cantabile Staccato has been 
elegantly rendered by the exact modern equivalents, 
"-■^ " for w, and . for X, thus 

/3r) - vat 

I This is the elegant rendering of Bellermann in his edition of the 
Anonymous Writer. But the piesent writer seems to think that the X 

can only be taken to allude to the 1st note of the two, and also that the point 
of 'he slur (vchlv^ is to show that the same syllable is to be sunfj twice. 

-f— T — 

T7V — 1# ^ P f^^ ^ '•^^^^ being its difference from the simple staccato. 

^— i '--^^^^ 

TOV - - (TOV - - 
According to Bryennius also these figures can be taken TrXiOvaKiQ rj aira^ 

thus -TT T — pg ^ ^ ^P . This is how it seems to the present writer. 

1 1 i 1 ^ 

TOV - - - 

but he will neverthelesi prefer Belbrman's elej;ant explanation. 


Then there was a combination of this figure and the 
last one, which was called TepeTKr/nog or " the Grass- 
hopper's chirrup."! 

TepeTKTfiog Tep^Tiajnog 

t^ ^; ^: ^; ^^ 

EjO - wc - - £ - jOwc - - ^t-Baa-KH fxov - aiKr^v. 

So then let us think of the beautiful firm phrasing, 
and the cleanly taken intervals, and these simple 
graces to aid the natural beauty of the voice, and 
admire what the effect must have been. And the 
Greeks never strained their voices to spoil the richness 
of them, and the women and boys never sang above 




nor the men above the A below 


r? T [ - . And they were contented with an 8ve 

a-piece, which was just double what the compass had 
been in earlier times, when it was only a 4th, that is, 
the ordinary compass of the Speaking Voice. And 
the Voices of the women and boys ranged from 

^x zrzto ~ a and of the men from j^i- — - ^^"- j ~~ 

So Sappho's voice must have been a rich contralto, 
for soprano in those days would answer to contralto 
now. And most likely the beauty of the boys' voices 
far exceeded that of the women's, for boys' voices in 
that low compass are exceedingly rich and sweet. 
They are a choir for gods. 

And if we can imagine these graces that we spoke 

I Anonymus, 10. The word is late, but the practice may be ancient 

i20 hisToRV of MustC. 

of, to have been carefully studied and exercised, as 
there seems no reason to doubt among a people who 
set such store on song, we must equally imagine 
that that rich beauty of tone, which transcended all 
other beauties in a Greek's mind, was also made an 
object of careful and constant study. And to secure 
roundness and fulness of tone, study and practice is 
always necessary even to the best voices. And though 
we may think of Sappho and Anacreon striking their 
lyres and singing like Apollo or Calliope inspired, it 
would have been strange if these great artists 
neglected the humbler walks of their art, as the best 
sculptor must point his work, and pick out the clay 
from the cast, for no one can strike a Naiad from 
the marble with one blow of the chisel. And it 
was on the perfection and beauty of their voices 
that much of their greatness reposed. Since the 
poet was himself the singer then, and how could 
harshness have lived in Anacreon, or thinness of tone 
in Sappho ? And strength and fullness of voice means 
the power of sustaining long drawn notes at even 
volume, or rather it is the result of such a power, 
which can only be acquired even by the best voices 
by frequent and continuous practice. And by this 
time the notes used in song were some of them very 
long indeed, and if the measure were taken at slow 
time their length would be greatly extended, and any 
wavering or tremulousness was of course highly pre- 
judicial to the beauty of the song. There was the 

old long J , occupying half a bar of ^ time ; ^ 

and Archilochus' long (fxaKpa rpixpovog), occupying a full 

The jULUKpa ^ix^povoQ. 


bar of ^ time I | ^ I ; i and a new long QxaKpa 

Terpaxpovog), occupying a full bar of ^ time, <J U 

And the length of these might be extended indefinitely- 
according to the slowness of the time ; and if, as I 
have often thought, the last line of the Sapphic Stanza, 

__\j\j , was sung by her in rallentando, there was 

need of the best art of the time to sing it superbly, as 
there is always need of the best art to sing a rallentando 

So that I think we shall not demean these great 
artists and others of their age, if we assume that they 
paid attention to the drudgery of their art in order to 
shine in its lustres and glories. For "practice" and 
" exercise " are words that only the dilettante and the 
pretender are ashamed of, in which class we must surely 
not rank the acknowledged masters of the Greek Music. 
And from very ancient times in Greece, if we may 
judge from the cloud of mysticism and traditions that 
surrounded it, there was a Solfeggio in use for singers, 
by the aid of which they might rehearse their songs, 
and practise their intervals and extensions, with greater 

1 Supra, p — 

2 The values of the notes were thus rendered : the letter 
of the note by itself alone stood for the value of a quaver 
thus, C ( = ^ ) . For the /uaKpci ^ixpovog the sign _ 

was placed under the letter thus, C = J . For the 
imaKpd rpixpovoQ, the sign L: was used j^ = 1 ^ (Anon- 

ymus, I.). For the fiaKpa rerpaxpovog, | |,thus, r= I 

to which four the fiaKpa TTEvraxpovog was afterwards added, 
expressed 11 I , as , , = ^ J (Anonymus, ib.). 



ease and with more effect than if they had employed 
the words in which their Songs themselves were 

And we will describe this Solfeggio, and report some 
of its mysticism and tradition. And it was in two 
parts, the first for women, the second for men. And the 
part for women embraced the women's octave 




and the part for men, the men's 

octave g?j 



And we have mentioned that 

the Greeks held Music to be formed of two elements, 
the one a masculine element and the other a feminine 
element. And they regarded the Vowels, which are the 
musical part of language, in the same manner. For 
they held that some vowels were Masculine Vowels, and 
others were feminine vowels. And the vowel u) was a 
Masculine vowel, because it was " forcible, and stout, 
and round, and self-controlled " (^paarripioQ koL aTepeog 
(cai (TTpoyyvXoQ koL avviaTpafXfiivoo). And the vowel 
1] was a Feminine vowel, because it was " moist, and 
relaxed and terribly passionate" (yypig re koi 
uvHfiivog KoX oXwc iradr^TiKog). And the vowel o was 
likewise masculine, but the vowel e was of all vowels 
most particularly feminine, for a reason that I cannot 
here give.^ The vowel a was adjudged to be common, 
sometimes leaning to one sex, sometimes to the other ; 
and the vowel i was left doubtful.^ Accordingly in the 
Solfeggio, which was sung on the plain vowels of the 

' Kexyvivat TTwg avajKuZov Kara Trjv kTrayyeXiav. 
2 See the whole passage in Aristides II. pp. 92 in Meibomius. 

THiE GREfiKS. 123 

language, as all Solfeggios have since been, the round, 
stout, and sturdy m was made to stand at the beginning 

of the masculine Solfeggio, being assigned to Bij 


and the vowel that was most particularly feminine was 
placed at the beginning of the feminine solfeggio, and 


was therefore assigned to ^ 1 . And the other 

vowels ran in this order — the short o being as a matter 
of fact omitted, being supposed to be rolled up in the 
stout <v — ojar}(t)ar}, till the point was reached 
where the feminine Solfeggio began at the middle A, 
when £ was inserted to break the continuity, which 
however was immediately restored, as if no £ had been 
there at all. 

In this way : — 

Masculine Solfeggio. Feminine Solfeggio, r 

tJ _^;, -^ -Sl- ^ 

TO) ra TT] T(i) Ta rij ro) re ra rr) tw ra rrj rw ra 

for the letter r was inserted before the vowels, in 
order that they might not clash in the singing, and 
for the use of this letter r a mystical reason was 
likewise given, which he who wishes to know may 
find in Aristides Quintilianus' Panegyric on the letter 
r (p. 93 in Meibomius). 

But irrespective of the fanciful reasons that the 
Greek Theorists gave for this sexing of the vowels, 
we may discover a very fine vein of reason running 
through it, for to and o are the vowels of nearly all the 
masculine terminations in Greek, as much as ») though 

I The Anonj'mous Writer, 77. 


not f, is of the feminine ones. And for the use 
of the letter r, it is plain that that this letter was 
really chosen, because it runs through the whole of 
the commonest word in Greek, the Article, to which 
indeed this Solfeggio has no slight resemblance. 

This Solfeggio then, which wears an air of consider- 
able antiquity, was the vehicle by which the Greek 
Singers practised their scales and exercises. And if 
they were practising singing or sustaining separate 
notes, they would use the syllables as we have written 

them, ^, 

or the zvoinen 

1:^?=:*=;,^^:=:-= tE^==.-=z:q: 

^ JS~- "^" "*' '^ -i: 
T(i) ra rri ra ru) toj re ra rrf ra re 

but if they were practising intervals, they left out the 
T in the second note, in order not to produce any 
break in the interval, thus 

^—~^-—' — -i^~-\ wr—. — Wr 


TO) - rj TO) - a TO) - o) t£ - a Te - o) 

And in the Staccato a v was inserted, which gave 
a sharp, smart, nasal sound to the note, thus 


TO)V- TO) Tav - Ta Tav - Ta 

And in the Connected Staccato the r was dropped, 

and the v was doubled, which like all doubled 

liquids almost compelled the voice to hang on the 

I Anonymus, sec, 4. i Id. 8. 

thp: greeks. 125 

note in the way that the connected staccato 

rwvvo) Tr}vvr) ravva 

while the Teretismus, which is a combination of both 
Staccatos, was also a combination of their Solfeggioing 


^ -S: * 

Tav rav - va rev rev - ve 

*In this way we cannot be surprised that the Greek 
singing reached that height of perfection, which the 
unanimous accounts of authors invite us to believe, 
and that that thing was possible with them, which no 
art of future ages has ever been able to attain, I 
mean the division of the interval into a smaller limit 
than the Semitone. For that which we now regard 
as the dream of theorists, and an ideal beauty or 
delicacy which can never be realised in practice, was 
an everyday thing with them, which great singers 
and little singers were alike able to do — 1 mean the 
correct .intonation of quarter tones. This is what we 
know — but from books only — as the Enharmonic Genus 
And we have caught a gleam of its existence among 
Primitive Man, but only for a moment, for it soon 
vanished away, being indeed but the spangles which 
Speech flung off in its passage to Song, and scarce 
destined to outlive the transit. For directly Song 
began, by benefit of the Chant, from that moment 

I lb. 2 lb. 


did the Diatonic Scale begin, for the Chant is the 
direct formulator of the Diatonic Note. And as 
harder things will always give way to easier ones, so 
did the Enharmonic, which though easy and natural 
in Impassioned Speech was yet difficult as a consciously 
cultivated form, pass away before the bold and simple 
Diatonic Song. And with most peoples this happened 
at an immeasurably remote period in their history, 
and almost before their music can be said properly 
to have begun. But with the Greeks, whose Song 
was so late of developing from Speech, the contrary 
was the case. And through the long series of bards 
and rhapsodists, whose form of expression was rather 
Speech than Song, the natural Enharmonic of Speech 
must have lived on a long life ; and we know that 
it had effected an entry even into the domain of Song 
itself. For it had effected an entry into that most 
ancient form of Greek song, which grew up side by 
side with the rhapsodists, and of which only the tra- 
dition remains, I mean the Religious Chant of the 
Temples. And here it was admitted as an artistic 
form, as we may know from the following reason : the 
Libation Hymn of the Delphian Temple was in the 
Enharmonic Mode.^ But with Terpander and the 
reforms of Terpander the Enharmonic fell into disuse, 
and perhaps one of the many things he did was this 
very establishment of the Diatonic Scale in Greek 
music, which we know he must have used to the 
exclusion of any other, since he accompanied his voice 

I As the name of the Enharmonic progression (Spondeiasmus) only too 
well implies. See the Chapter in Westphal's Geschichte der alten Musik on 
the Tropos Spondeiazon, Also it appears from Plutarch, 19. and elsewhere, 
that the Libation Hymn was in the Enharmonic genus. 



note for note with the Lyre, and the Lyre of Ter- 
pander had only 7 notes 5)"; ^ — ^_pci:^_ "^"^ ^ 

which are all in the Diatonic Scale. So that when we find 
the Enharmonic reappearing, as we do shortly before 
the period of which we are now treating, we must look 
on it as an artistic reproduction of the antique, due to 
a general Renaissance of Greek Art, of which there are 
abundant signs at present, and more particularly due 
and rendered possible by the high state of perfection 
which Greek Singing had reached under the influence 
of the Lesbian School of Musicians. And the En- 
harmonic, as used by the singers now, was the perfection 
of the Portamento. And it was doubtless employed by 
them very much in the same passages and for the same 
effects as we employ the Portamento to-day.^ But how 
much more perfect was it ! For while in our Porta- 
mento the Voice sweeps the Interval and blends all the 
tones confusedly together, they in their Portamento, 
which was the Enharmonic, swept the Interval indeed, 
but enunciated at the same time and with perfect 

I. It is not a little interesting to find the Portamento a most favourite 
figure in Modern Greek Music, which is generally brought in in such a way as 
to form the leading feature of the song, e.g., in that beautiful Greek song 
avTog 6 Koafiog, 




feEJ^^ ^-^^ ^ 


A 1- 

avTog 6 KocT-fiog eiv Tovp-Kia Biv uvai 'Fuj-firjO-av-vr} 
portando la voce, 

- — w I rS-.- 

? 1 m— -J- ^ 

&c.. but it is his lover he 

- - - a.^ 'EA - - 6 - V17 /iou 

calls on, not his country. Hellenhas lost his " 1 ," and his sex with it. 


clearness each tiny demitone that made it up. And 
the length of the Interval that was taken was limited 
to the distance of a 4th, and it was executed in the 
following way : — 



or it might be taken upwards, when it would be 




So that it will be seen that it is in reality a 
compound 'figure, for it consists of first an empty 
interval, and then a portmidoed interval. And the empty 

interval is a Major 3rd E=^^— =E ' ^"*^ ^^^ P^^~ 

tandoed interval is a Minor 2nd =i ■ And 

in being Compound it bears a resemblance to that 
grace, the Tepenafibg which was a compound figure, 
compounded of the Staccato and the Connected 

Staccato, ■» — ^ — ^ . And this figure that we 

are now considering is compounded of an empty 
Interval and a Portmidoed Interval =^3irz;:^:ziijz:=z 

And doubtless the object of using such a sequence was 
to bring the Portamento more into relief by contrast 
with the empty interval that precedes it, or if it 
were taken upwards, that follows it. And we see 
here the same effecting or intensifying of a beauty 

2 Gaudentius, 17. Aristides, 20, sq. 


by contrast, which we noticed before in that figure 
the KOfXTria/xbg, or Staccato, where it was the rule that 
the staccato note must be immediately followed by a 
legato one, which was probably to show off the staccato 
more, by virtue of the contrast with the legato, as here 
by contrast with the empty interval to show off the 
Portamento more. 

This we may say speaking as artists, and doubtless 
the Greeks so regarded it, who esteemed it the 
greatest beauty in their Music ; and they would have 
given some such explanation as this of the great 
pleasure they always felt in hearing it.^ So we may 
say this, as I say, speaking as artists ; but speaking 
in the language of history, we have a very different 
tale to tell. For in this Enharmonic, which was 
notoriously a revival of the antique, which makes a 
skip of a note every time it moves, and which is 
limited in its compass to the distance of a 4th, we 
see only too plainly the features of that ancient 
Greek Scale, whose compass was limited to the distance 
of a 4th, and which made a skip of a note every 
time, because it was an Isolating Scale. But if a 
scale, whose compass is a 4th, skips a note in its 
progress, the notes will be reduced to three, and they 
will be similarly arranged to what we found them in 
the scale of Primitive Man, that is to say, with a 
gap in them 

^= g_"gl- 


But since the ^olian Scale which Terpander added 
to the Dorian had its break a note higher up than 

I Plutarch, 11. 19. &c. 



this, and omitted the C instead of the B, having its 
break between B and D therefore, and being as 




we may conjecture that the original form of this 

-^olian scale was not merely 

^ - f-^ - - I — 

T-y. — |— — [— ^ — ^ but that in its most primitive 

form there was a G under the A, thus 



which we may without violence conjecture, since we 
found it to be universally so among all other nations 
whose most ancient scales have come down to us, and 
this G would be merged in the Dorian Scale, which 

was T^ T— P^ — j— ^ ^F- — and lost there, and men 

knowing that two scales had been united, but without 
knowing what the original notes of each had been, 
would think that the union was one of exact divisions, 
and would say : The scale of 7 notes is compounded 
of two scales of 4 notes each. And it would have 
been a scale of 8 notes instead of 7, were not the 
middle note common to both component parts. 

And now we may find an explanation of this gap 
in the Primitive Isolating Scale, which before puzzled 
us how to account for it. For by benefit of the 
Enharmonic we can now discover how this old isolating 
scale was sung, 

-G>- — F^ — ,' 1- — 


THE GREEKS. 1 3 1 

For if the Enharmonic sings through this very gap, 
in this way, 

it is plain that the gap between D and B was at first 
no gap, but merely an unsteadiness of the voice, which 
not taking kindly to its new fetters passed every now 
and then from Song into Speech, nor was it able in 
the beginning and immaturity of our art to preserve 
its steadiness for more than two or three notes together, 

but a passage like this t-j . ^ ^^ — j it would 

execute t^t — ^Z-^tz j j zz: ^ or a passage like this 
</• — 

_<s>-_<:2__:^z_ . _, . __,s_f2.-iJ^-|?i 

iqi F^^^:^=^=E= in this way ^^_^==^ 

that is to say, it would break down and falter after a 
few notes, under the artificial restraint of complete 
steadiness, till at last, to mend its fault in the easiest 
and most effectual manner, it would cease to make 
the. effort which led to the fault, and would limit its 
continuous runs to two or three notes at the most, 
which it could easily take, contenting itself with per- 
forming the easy well, than attempting the difficult 
badly ; and so the difficulty would be left, as other 
similar things were, for future generations to solve. In 
this way the scale of these rude times would be full 
of gaps, because no more than two or three notes 
were sung in sequence, and it would be full of gaps 
from top to bottom, thus. 





^^ I r^ ^— I — ^ — >= — ' — ^ 

And this seems an explanation of that phenomenon 
which meets us at the threshold of the music of all 
nations, the Isolating Scale. 

Now the Enharmonic of the Greeks, then, which 
now comes before us as an artistic revival of an ancient 
and obscure form of scale, consisted, as we said, of 
an interval of a 3rd followed by two distinctly intoned 
quarter tones, and it was considered to be a marvellous 
beauty, and to express, more than other flexion of 
the voice, the refinement of sentiment, and romantic 
melancholy. And the honour of reviving it in Greek^ 
Music is universally attributed to Olympus, a Phrygian 
flute player. And if it be really the regeneration and 
new birth of a most ancient form, as we have 
assumed it to be, we may well understand how it 
came from Phrygia, or how it had lingered on in 
Phrygia after it had fallen into disuse in the rest of 
the Greek world. For archaic types are preserved in 
the amber of religion, and in Phrygia the most 
ancient worship of the Hellenes, which was the wor- 
ship of the forces of nature, had lingered on, long 
after the worship of Apollo had supplanted it among 
the rest of the Hellenic family, and doubtless the old 
Enharmonic had lingered on with it. And Olympus 
came playing the flute, from Phrygia to Greece. And 
his flutes wept as he played them, by virtue of this 
beautiful mode. And romance and sentiment began to 
colour the white light of the Greek Music. And the 
Phrygian Satyr, Marsyas, whom Apollo had vanquished 
and crushed, lived again in the beautiful Olympus- 

tHE Greeks. 133 

And Olympus invented the Elegy, which is the old 
Hexameter, but how softened ! And he played Elegies 
and Dirges on his flute to the people of Greece. 
And his flutes sobbed and wept. And he could 
trace his descent to the times of Marsyas himself, 
and show that the flute-playing that he used, was in 
reality the very playing of Marsyas himself For 
he was descended from a flute-player of long ago, 
called like himself Olympus, who was the darling of 
Marsyas, and whom Marsyas himself had taught to 
play the flute. And there was a lake near the town 
of Celaenae in Phrygia, covered all over with quantities 
of firm, straight reeds, and Marsyas had got his reeds 
from here which he made his flutes of, and Olympus 
got his reeds from the same place. And this lake is 
called Aulocrene, or " the Flute pond," to the present 

And Olympus founded a school of flute players in 
Greece ; and there was Pythocritus of Sicyon, and 
Democrates of Tenedos, and Satyrus of Thebes, and 
Autolycus of Thespiae in Attica, and Orthagoras, and 
Olympiodorus, and Antigenides,i and Midas,- and 
Scopelinus, and Pronomus, who were of his school. 
And thescj extend down to late times in our history. 
And contemporaneously with these, yet probably under 
Olympus' influence, there was an indigenous school of 
flute-playing that grew up in Greece. And with reason 
it saw light first among the shepherds of Arcadia, and 
its greatest master was Clonas of Tegea in Arcadia, 

I Suidas calls him an av\(i)^bg,h\it this, I imagine, only means that he was 
the awXwooc to Philoxenus. 

^ The ^vBo^og MiSac of Pindar, who won the prize for flute-playing 
twice at the Pythian games, and also at the Panathenaea. 

134 History of Music. 

although its reputed founder was Ardalos of Troezen. 
And these men used the Enharmonic of Olympus in 
their flute-playing, at any rate Clonas certainly did, but 
probably their style was severer, and they were not so 
passionate, nor yet so tender as the Phrygian school of 
players. But this we cannot certainly tell. And 
Polymnestus, Sacadas, Mimnermus, Apollodotus, Evius, 
Echembrotus — these were the principal fluteplayers of 
the Arcadian School, but they did not attain so great 
renown, nor have so abiding an effect on Greek Art as 
the School of Olympus, which indeed introduced a 
softness and passion into the Music that were unknown 
before, and all the traces of this which will appear 
henceforth from time to time in the Greek Music, may 
with more or less justice be attributed to the influence 
of the Phrygian School of Olympus. 

And now let us admire what effect this dissemination 
of the Enharmonic would have on the make and 
structure of the instruments themselves. And we have 
seen what effect it had on the singing, and how the 
singers used it as a constant grace and embellishment 
to their song, and it became so favourite and admired 
that it could by no means be dispensed with, and all 
singers definitively used it. And now that it was firmly 
established in the Music, it is plain what effect it 
would have on the scale. For it would increase the 
number of its notes. And it divided every semitone 
into two demitones, and since there were two semitones 
in the scale, there would now be four demitones instead ; 
that is to say, the scale would be increased by 2 notes. 
And would accordingly stand : 




j^. '^ 

in the Dorian Mode, 


in the ^oliaii Mode. 

And it will be plain what effect this would have on 
the instruments, for they must increase their stops or 
their strings accordingly. And the flutes were already 
increased, for they were all made now after the pattern 
of Olympus. And now the strings must be increased 
in like manner. And with all this, the old Lyre of 
Terpander, which was one string short even before, 

^f^ \^ -! — - iHBl 
-P-^ 1 ! 

mzus. — fg- 


for it was short of C, fell into disuse altogether, and 
new and larger instruments sprang up in its room : 
which all had the 4 demitones of the Enharmonic, as 
the 'flutes had got before them, and as the singers 
now regularly employed. 

And this was an age of change, for it was in all 
strictness a Renaissance, being caused, as all Renaissances 
are, by the influx of foreign knowledge into a younger 
and receptive people. And the scale was to receive a 
further change, and this time from Semitic influence. 
For now the knowledge and Art of Assyria, which 
had hitherto flowed into Greece through the gate of 
Phoenicia, was now pouring in a strong and steady 
stream through a wider and nearer channel. For the 
great kingdom of Lydia, which had been a dependency 
and tributary of Nineveh for 5 centuries past, was 
brought into the closest connection with the ^olian 
and Ionian Greeks, not long before the period we are 
writing of, through the friendship or policy of Alyattes. 
And his son, Croesus, who ultimately became their 
master, had made the connection a still closer one. 


And this was the age of Croesus, and of the Pactolus 
whose sands were gold. And Oriental influence was at 
its height. And the lore and wisdom of Assyria had 
voiced itself in the Seven Sages, and the licentiousness 
of Assyria had expressed itself in the person of 
Sappho, being indeed a Grecised Semiramis, or Astarte 
incarnate. And Lydia is so near Lesbos, you can 
see its coast from the rocks of Mytilene.^ And great 
must have been the traffic between the two, and the 
strange things from the East exposed for sale in the 
market - places. And that woman must have been 
familiar with the vices of Babylon from her childhood, 
and also with its music. And now we find a new 
Mode appear in Greek Music, of which the introduction 
was attributed to her,^ and it is precisely the same as 
the Assyrian scale, 



to which the stars were a gamut. ^ 

And this is said to have been invented by Sappho, 
and was known afterwards as the Mixo-Lydian Mode. 

And Sappho also is credited with the invention of 
the plectrum, and it is said that up to her time the 
strings of the Lyre were always plucked by the 
fingers, but that she invented the plectrum, and struck 
them instead.2 Yet we know that the plectrum was 
in common use among the Assyrians, ages before this 

1 Mysia was Lydia at the time we are Writing of. In this, as in many 
other points, the drawings of the atlases are calculated to give a wrong 
impression, for they according to Roman demarcations. 

2 Plutarch, i6. 3 Suidas, art. Sappho. 



time, and that it was used by them, and by them 
alone, in lyre-playing, and to play their yet more 
favourite instrument, the Dulcimer. 

And now let us sum up the traces of Assyrian 
influence that have up till now appeared in Greek 
Music, and how they came. And first, in remote and 
almost prehistoric times, Phoenician traders, like those 
who carried off lo, coming to the coasts of Greece 
to fish for the purple shell-fish, had brought the 
Lyre itself,^ which all traditions say was first dis- 
covered on the sea-shore — an obvious innuendo, as I 
take it, at an importation by sea.^ For the semi- 
barbarian Greeks of those days, if we can imagine 
that they had developed above the Pipe Stage, would 
yet have used the Aryan form of String, which is 
the Lute. And next, the art of accompanying the 
Song, and the manner of accompanying it — above the 
Voice, — had been communicated by Phenicians to 
Archilochus, which in other respects bears strong 
signs of Assyrian paternity. And now finally, the 
entire Assyrian scale was brought bodily into Greece, 
and so was the plectrum they used to strike their 
strings with. 

And having said that the Scale of Terpander, as 
we may loosely call the Greek Scale, had suffered 
such a great change as it had by the insertion of 
the Enharmonic demitones, and that it received a 
still further change at this period, we must now say 
what that change was. And it was due to the 

1 See a hint at this idea in Curtius. Indeed I am not sure whether he does 
not actually say this. 

2 Hermes found the tortoise on the seashore that he made his lyre of. The 
lyre of Orpheus came by sea to Lesbos. 

13^ HisTOkY OF MUSIC. 

influence of this Assyrian Scale, which Sappho is said 
to have introduced. And if we remember the 
scientific perfection of the Assyrian scale, and how 
symmetrically the notes ran in it — for it was built in 
such a way that it was divisible into precisely equal 
parts from top to bottom. So that starting at B, 
B to E, E to A, A to D, D to G, and so on, were 
all equal to one another ; each comprising the interval 
of a Perfect Fourth, as we call it, that is two tones 
and a semitone. And the scale itself lay out in 
symmetrical beauty, being composed of two equal 
groups of notes woven into one another, and posed 
in such a way, that the very position of the tones 
and semitones was in each precisely the same. That 
is to say, as follows : 

I si group 07' Tetrachord. 2nd group or TetracJiord. 



Semitone, Tone. Tone. Semitone. Tone. Tone. 

And this was effected by making the Scale begin on 
B, instead of any other note as C, D, E, &c., which 
would have rendered such symmetry impossible. And 
then let us consider what ease this gave the singer, 
and smoothness of execution, for the Voice naturally 
moving within the compass of a 4th., when it travelled 
beyond the bounds of the lower 4th in which it had 
first moved, and went to move in the higher, it would 
find the intervals succeed one another in precisely the 
same order again, that is, ist a Semitone, then a 
Tone, then another Tone. In this way the smooth- 
ness of water was communicated to melodies in such 
a scale, and it was such a smoothness that the Greeks 
loved. If Science admired its perfection, Art envied 
its ease. Accordingly we find at this period an. 

The GkEEits. 139 

attempt made to introduce the symmetry of the 

Assyrian Scale into the Greek Scale, and this was 
the change" I talked ;~of. 

And how was this to be done ? for the Scale of 

Terpander (writing it with the added C as it was 
probably used by the Lesbian singers), 


resembled the Assyrian Scale indeed in its lower 
group of 4, where there is first a semitone, then a 
tone, and then a tone again. 

Semitone. Tone. Tone. 



but in its upper group 

-f=2 ^- 



it was strikingly unlike it, for the semitone does not 
come between the ist and 2nd, but between the 2nd 
and 3rd. 

— ^ — (^'^:^-—^— ■ 1 

How then was this to be brought in harmony with 
the corresponding group of the Assyrian Scale ? 




And it is plain that if the 2nd note of the group, B, 
were lowered a Semitone, the whole group would be 
brought in harmony with it, for B being brought a 
semitone nearer A, would be carried a semitone 
further away from C, and thus its distance from A 


would be a semitone, but its distance from C would 
be two semitones, that is one tone, and so the whole 
group would be brought into complete harmony with 
the Assyrian Scale, And this accordingly was done, 
and we can best express this lowering of the B by 
our sign, the flat !^, and we will write it in this way. 

Semitone. Tone. Tone. 


And the complete scale reads letter for letter the 
same with its original, 

1st group or Tetrachord. 2nd group or Tetrachord. 

t j i__ i 

fe^ ^_^e: 

Semitone. Tone, Tone. Semitone. Tone, Tone. 

1st group or Tetrachord. 2nd group or TetracJwrd. 


Semitone. Tone. Tone. Semitone. Tone. Tone. 
So then the instruments were now constructed, not 
only with the Enharmonic as an addition to their 
original scale, but with this B|7 as another addition. 
And since before the Enharmonic they had 7 notes in 
their scale, they now had 10, that is to say, 2 due to 
the Enharmonic, and one to the B[?. For these were 
all added notes, and the Bl? was not a substitution for 
the Bj:], but an addition to it, for the songs were 
sometimes sung in the new way and sometimes in the 
old way, and by retaining the Bh in the instruments, 
they could be sung in either. And the flutes were 
made the same as the Lyres were, and this is the 
fourth trace that we have discovered of Assyrian 
influence on Greek Music. 


And now we will go on to discover a fifth trace. 
But this is not so certain, for that which we are 
now going to consider might well have had its 
origin inside Greece itself But yet we will try and 
attribute it in the first place to the Assyrians. For 
Bactrian girls, singing under the laurel groves by the 
river Halys, had brought so near Greece as Lydia is 
that custom of singing which they had learnt from 
their Semitic masters, and which is universal among 
the Semitic nations. For they sang, and answered one 
another as they sang.i And we have seen how 
among the ancient Hebrews the women would go out 
on days of victory to meet the conqueror, and falling 
into two parties would sing their hymns by antiphon. 
For first one band would sing, and then the other 
would reply, and so they would continue all the time. 
And now was this ancient Semitic style come so near 
the confines of Greece ; and had the Greek Antiphony, 
which presently began to appear, assumed this very 
form, there would seem no doubt but that Assyrian 
influence was at work again in Greece ; or could we 
but imagine that the Semitic antiphony had assumed 
a slightly different cast among the Assyrians to what 
it did among the Hebrews, then again we might 
imagine Assyrian influence at work in Greece to 
produce it. For the Greek antiphony, as is well 
known, was not the antiphony of question and reply 
but was the antiphony of Harmony, if we may apply 
the term Harmony to what was but doubling in the 

^ Sa^vooTKtov Kar aXcrog "AAvog Iv vairaig 
oXKolai fl)wvi' HaKTrjpiag avTiZvyoig 

kXvw \EOvaaQ TrapOivovg. If my memory serves me for the 
author as well as the quotation, it is from Diogenes, the tragic poet. 


octaveJ Nor yet does it seem hard to imagine that 
the Assyrian antiphony was also this, since on the 
bas-reliefs we never find the singers divided into two 
choirs, but they always sing in one choir, which, if 
the Hebrew responsive antiphony had been the rule, 
would not have been so convenient. And then again, 
knowing the partiality of the Assyrians for high 
voices, and yet finding low voices mixed with them, 
men's voices with womens' and boys', and in the same 
choir, we might imagine that they practised this very 
doubling in the Octave, which we are now speaking of.^ 
But since there seems no sufficient ground to take 
this conjecture as a truth, we must search for some 
other cause to explain the rise of Antiphony, which 
now definitely began to appear in Greece. And seeing 
what had been the effect of the Renaissance hitherto 
on the forms of Music — how the musical period was 
doubled in length, how the feet were doubled, and so 
became compound feet — for we must imagine that 
tendency, whose commencement wc studied, to have 
now attained its climax and completion, and the 
simple feet under the influence of high Rhythm to 
have clustered together into compounds, to which we 
saw them fast on the way — and seeing that the feet 
then were doubled, and the Period doubled by the 
benefit of our Renaissance, just as the line had been 
doubled and the scale doubled under similar conditions 
before — may we not see another instance of the per- 
vading law in the rise of Antiphony, which indeed 
was but the doubling of the Melody in the 8ve? 

1 Theon of Smyrna, (BuUialdus' Edition) V. 77. Manuel Bryennius, 1.5. 
cf. Aristotle's Problem. XIX. 39. 

2 For these points about the Assyrians, cf. the chapter on the Assyrians, 


And the Antiphony was of men and boys, or men 
and women. And the first would be sweeter than 
the second. 

And now let us admire the operations of Music, 
and how it grows before us. For now the Instruments 
doubled their strings, as the voices doubled their 
melody, and having 10 strings before, they now were 
made with 20. The Lyre vanished out of sight in 
Lesbos and Ionia, and a crowd of new instruments, 
each with 20 strings in octaves, came swarming up 
to fill its place. 

And first there was the Magadis, and we are told 
it had 20 strings {xfjoXXu) S' e'/icoo-t ^^P^"'? fiaya^iv t^wv^), 
and that they were arranged in 8ves, for Sid iraaCyv 
£<7^£ rrjv <TWV(i)otav avopwv te kcu iraiowv^ " it had the 
8ve harmony of men's voices and boys' voices," which 
" stood to each other," says Aristotle {Problem XIX. jg) 


"in the same relation that v £> P — does to 



And we also learn about the Magadis that both the 
Diatonic and Enharmonic Intervals were represented 
on its strings, since Tr\v awioSiav i(TX^ ^^o yeviov " it 
had both the genera."^ 

This being so, we may go on to reconstitute the 
actual strings of which the Magadis was composed. 
And since we have 20 strings to account for, we 
must take care that they lie between the extreme 
limits of the Greek System, for the complete gamut, 
as constituted by Pythagoras, did not ascend above 

in the treble, or descend below (£?— -4— in 

I Anacreon, 3 Ath^nseus, p. 6^;;. 3 lb. 



the bass. These then are the limits beyond which 
the 20 strings of -our Magadis must not trespass. And 
since these 20 strings were in octaves, that is, ten 
doubled ten, but in this complete gamut there are 

3 A's, viz : 




and if we allowed 


both boundary notes admission to our strings, the 
note A would be trebled instead of only doubled, it 
is plain we must omit either the top h or the 
bottom A to avoid this. And by preference we will 
omit the top A, and constitute our Magadis as 
follows : — 

q ! v=X 

^ :^-. -^- ^- -^- 

-^ — ^— i^ 




-is — f^- 


in which we have represented all the Diatonic and 
Enharmonic intervals from A up to G, and each 
with its corresponding 8ve— but yet we have only 18 
notes instead of 20. And it is plain that in this 
construction one note has been omitted, which with itg 
octave would give the necessary two to raise this 18 
to 20. And remembering that B I7 which had been 
recently introdued from the Assyrian Scale into the 
Greek, it is plain that this B b" is the note we are 
in search of, and that between A and B we ought to 
insert B I7, which will give us the necessary 
number thus : — 




t75^^ ^~ 

-^ — ^— S^ 

) £-<r 

^ — ?zi —^^—^^—^ — ^ 1 — I — 

— 20 notes in all.^ 

And now let us consider the make of the Magadis. 
And first we may well admire how despite all the 
testimony to the Magadis having 20 strings, and 
despite the wide-spread popularity which the Magadis 

soon achieved through the length and breadth of 

I Bockh thinks (De Metris Pindari, p. 261) that the Chromatic was used, 
which the present writer does not, since to cl ^pw/xa on TrpeapvTepov 
Trjc apfioviag aracpeg. Set jdp ^rjXovort Kara rriv rrig avOpo)- 
"jrivrjQ (pvaOiiQ evrev^iv koX xprjuiv to irpecrl^vTepov Xijaiv. 
KUTtt yap avTrjv ttjv rwv yevwv (pvmv ovk tortv eTepov eTepov 
Trpe(T[5vTepov. This is theory. Here follow facts: 6 Se 
Haypdrrig cnrdxaTO tov ■)(p<jJixaTog mq IttitottoXv' ov St' 
ayvoiav OTjXovort, aXXd oid Trjv irpoaipecnv cnr£i)(^ET0' It^ijXov 
yap a»c aiiTog t^rj tov Uivoapeiov re koI StjUwvioEtov Tpoirov 
Koi KaOoXov TO ap\aiov Kakovfievov vtto tu)v vvv. Hence 
at the time we are writing of the Chromatic was unknown. 
Nevertheless, Boeckh's way is here given : — 

-F^ ■ 1 1 


=^ ^g=g^p =^=g=: 





Greece, we never find any instrument of 20 strings 
on the Vases, nor any instrument indeed at all 
approaching to the form such as we might at first 
sight conjecture the form of the Magadis to have been- 
For an instrument of 20 strings immediately brings 
the Great Egyptian Harp to our minds, and we 
search among the Vases for large instruments and for 
harp-shaped instruments in vain, for everywhere meets 
us the ubiquitous Lyre form, with at the utmost 10 
strings, and the sculptures tell the same tale as the 

How then are we to discover the secret of the 
Magadis' construction ? And I think the name of the 
%strument itself tells us the secret. For fxaya^ig is 
derived from fiaydg, and fxayag = "the bridge of a 
lyre " ; for lyres had ' bridges ' as our own violins have, 
and for the same purpose, to prevent the strings 
flapping or striking against any part of the framework, 
when they recoiled after the twang. For the bottom 
of the lyre's frame reached some little way up behind 
the strings, and had there been no bridge there, the 
strings would have flapped against it every now and 
then, and the bridge, as I say, was to prevent this. 
So then fxayadig, derived from juayag, = "the bridged 
instrument." But since the Lyre had a /xayag or 
bridge already, would this new name, fxaya^ig, have 
been given to an instrument, unless there had been 
some peculiarity about its bridge, which distinguished it 
entirely from the old bridged Lyre ? And it is this 
very peculiarity of the bridge, which gave the /uaya^ig 
its name and its distinctive character, and discovers 
to us now the secret of its make. For the bridere 
of the Magadis was no longer kept close at the 
bottom of the strings, to answer no other purpose 
than to prevent their percussion against the frame, but 


it was pushed some distance up the strings, with the 
definite intention of permitting the strings to be 
twanged on each side of the bridge. It was even 
fastened as a kind of cross-piece some way up the 
strings, so as to permit this with greater freedom. 
And with what effect? For if you take a tense 
string, and place a bridge under it exactly in the 
middle, you may twang the string at either side of 
the bridge, and they both will give you the same 
note. But if you place your bridge a third of the 
way up, instead of precisely in the middle, you may 
also twang the string at either side of the bridge, but 
then the long part of the string will give you one 
note, and the short part will give you the octave to 
that note. This then was the method that was 
followed in the construction of the Magadis ; the 
bridge was placed a third of the way up the strings, 
and the instrument could now play in 8ves, without 
the number of the strings being increased. So this 
is why we never see any instruments of 20 strings 
on the vases, but only instruments of 10 strings, 
which however gave 20 notes, for each string gave 
itself and its octave. And that the Greeks should 
loosely talk of 20 strings instead of 20 notes, is what 
might be expected, for had we such an instrument 
ourselves in use to-day, we should probably describe 
it in the same manner. And now we may see a 
reason for the introduction of the Plectrum, which 
we mentioned as appearing contemporaneously in this 
period. For the short part of the strings, which 
gave the high 8ve, would be so tightly strung that 
they would be very hard to twang, and so the 
plectrum was introduced in order to bring out their 
sound smarter and clearer. But the long part of the 
strings would still be easy for the hand, because 


their tension was not nearly so great. So when the 
Magadis was played, both hands were employed at 
once, because it had to be played in octaves ; but 
the right hand, which had the striking of the short 
part of the strings, and this was the part next the 
bottom of the frame, was furnished with a plectrum, 
while the left hand, which struck the long part next 
the top of the frame, used the naked fingers. And 
the instrument was held on the left shoulder, which 
seems to have been the traditional way of holding 
stringed instruments since the times of the Ancient 
Egyptians, and is still the shoulder on which the 
modern harp rests to-day. 

And we may well inquire, how did this invention, or 
this knowledge of the bridging of the strings come to 
Greece. And though it might well have been developed 
naturally among the Greeks themselves, it seems more 
probable that it came from without, since all accounts 
assign a Lydian origin to the Magadis, so that probably 
it came in the first instance from Assyria, like the 
other innovations in Greek Music which we have 
considered above.i As indeed the names /xajdg and 
fidyadig themselves import. For fxaydg is a barbarism, 
and in pure Greek would have appeared as iraydg, a 
varied form of irajlg, rrdyn, which literally means " that 
which fixes or fastens a thing," being derived from 
Trnyvvfii. But remembering the ordinary interchange 
of TT and fj. in JEolic, (and the Greek that the 
Lydians spoke would have been a barbarised ^Eolic), 
which the common instances of ofiiua — oirva, ire^d — juerd 
&c., will at once recall to our minds, we shall 

I We have mentioned Alyattes and Lydia, and we must not forget also the 
intimate alHance between Alyattes and .Cyaxares the Mede, who was t]ie 
conqueror of Nineveh, 

tliE CREEKS. 149 

have no difficulty in seeing how rraydg appeared 
as fxayag. And that this is the real derivation, 
seems probable from the following reason : there was 
a smaller variety of the fxaya^ig, the invention of 
which was not attributed to the Lydians, but to the 
Greek Sappho/ and this was bridged like the Magadis, 
and in every respect similar, except that it was 
smaller ; but its name was not the indya^ig, but the 
TTrjKTie, which of course is an immediate deriva- 
tion from 7ri]yvvim ^. This Greek word, Trrj/crie, we 
have but to trifle with and barbarise a little on ^olic 
lines of Permutation, to see that it is letter for 
letter the same as fxayaSig, for rj goes into cu 
and the guttural and dental k and r harden naturally 
into y and S, and tt goes into /t :— thus, 

nH K T IS 

Now the Magadis and how it was played may well 
be studied on the vases. And there are 2 vases in 
the collection in the British Museum^ that show the 
Magadis distinctly, and its bridge is a third of the 
way up the strings, and the players support the 
instrument on their left shoulder, and hold a plectrum 
in their right hand to strike the shorter strings with, 
but twang the longer ones with the naked fingers of 
the left. And the writer of this book has seen 
figurings of the Magadis on vases in the Louvre, and 

1 Athenseus p. 655. 

2 In this way Sophocles speaks of the TnqKTig as the irrjKTrj Xvpa. 

3 (a.) In Case 32. Anacreon, I thhik, is playing it. (b.) Vase 508. In this 
Magadis it seems as if the bridge could be taken off and on, like the capotasto 
of a guitar. The Magadis has here the Cithara shape instead of the Lyre 
shape, as in the ist Vase. (See infra p.—). It might have either. 


he has seen a good Magadis in the Dresden collection 
of vases. But the best one he has seen is on a vase 
in the Berlin Museum,^ and it represents the fragment 
of a procession, and there are two players on the 
Magadis, and the bridge of the instrument is a third 
of the way up the strings, and the players hold the 
Magadis on their left shoulder, and they hold a 
plectrum in theii right hand to strike the shorter 
strings with, but twang the longer ones with the naked 
fingers of their left. 

Now if we would reconcile the conflicting testimony 
of authors, we must take it that the name, Magadis, 
besides applying specifically to this large instrument of 
20 strings, or rather of 10 strings bridged, which we 
have just described, was also applied as a general 
term to any stringed instrument, whose strings were 
bridged after its pattern. In this way its two smaller 
varieties, the Pectis, which we have mentioned, and 
the Barbitos, could each be called a Magadis, although 
they presented differences in their shape and in the 
number of their strings to the Magadis Proper. And 
in the same spirit, the term fiayadi^Hv = " to play a la 
Magadis'' got to be applied generally to any 8ve 
playing, even though it were of two instruments, or to 
Instrument and Voice in 8ve, or more generally still, 
to singing in 8ve without the accompaniment of an 
instrument at all.^ It is therefore not hard to assume 
' Magadis ' as a general term for any stringed instrument, 
whose strings were bridged after the Magadis pattern, 
and he that will make this assumption, will find that 

1 If I may trust my memory it is in the Griechisclie Saal. The number 
marked in a catalogue I have is 462., but on that point I cannot be sure. 

2 See Bockh's Fxcursus on fiajaSiC^iiv in his Pindaric Metres, cf. also 
Aristotle's 39'h Problem. 


the apparent contradictions in Athenseus, Philostratus 
&c., will appear no contradictions at all. 

And the two smaller varieties of Magadis were the 
Pectis and the Barbitos.^ And the Pectis was the 
invention of Sappho, and the Barbitos was the instru- 
ment of Anacreon — the Pectis, the woman's instrument, 
the Barbitos, the man's ; the Pectis, high (y\pr]Xa) — v\pr)Xag 
ciKovMv 7rr]KTiSog, the Barbitos, low, as its name implies, 
(5apv-fUTog, deep-stringed.2 The Pectis was SfxopSoc, that 
is, it had its strings in octaves, as we may otherwise 
know, since avTKnracTTa t£, says Sophocles, AvSi7c f^v/^va 
TTrjKTtSoe avjxopdia. And the Barbitos was similarly 
constructed, since its strings are always reckoned as 10, 
but in Anacreon's hand on the Vases they are only 
5 in number ; but 5 strings with the Magadis bridge 
would make 10 strings,^ for each string would give 
itself and its 8ve, And if the Barbitos had 10 
strings, we must imagine the Pectis to have had 10 
strings in like manner, that is to say, 5 strings bridged. 
And we will set down the ' high ' Pectis as having 
had the upper tetrachord of a Mode with the Enhar- 

I The Barbitos, we are expressly told, wa? made on the model of the Pectis. 
Athenseus. 635. D. 

2 The writer had also thought of /BapujSaroc. cf. rj\i(5aroc; 

&c., from jSatvw, but he imagines (Bapv/iLTog is much the 

better of the two. Here we have the ordinary ^Eolic 

change of ju into /3. Cf f-dibiftpag, JEo\. (iiinftpag. Cf. also 

in ordinary Greek, juoXuv. [iXwaKw. /BAwo-kw being contracted 

from jSoXwo-Kw or moXwaKOj. And indeed we have the actual 

form jdapvfxiTov ('sub. opyavov) in Julius Pollux IV. 59. 

although he does not identify it with the Barbitos. 

3 In some cases, I imagine, in these small instruments the bridge was 
sometimes dispensed with, and the strings turned down sharp against the 
edge of the frame. The slightest turn would be sufficient. 



monic Demitone, and the Barbitos as having had the 
lower tetrachord of a Mode with the Enharmonic 
Demitone. And since we are no longer straightened for 
room, as we were with the Great Magadis of 20 strings, 
when we had to be cautious lest we might infringe the 
limits of the Greek System 'with our strings, but now 
with 10 strings we have no such difficulty — we are 
therefore at liberty to choose our Mode. And if the 
inventress of the Pectis was also the introducer of the 
Mixolydian Mode, we shall do no wrong to surmise 
that her Instrument was tuned in her Mode. So we 
will express the Pectis and the Barbitos both in the 
Mixolydian mode, and their strings in 8ves thus: — 

The Pectis. 

-y . 1 — 


— 1— 

— ^ 









— C2 — 








: 1 ^ 

The Barbitos. 

■^ S^ 









Now we may well admire what style of accompani- 
ment these instruments played to the Voice. Was it 
still above the song, as in the days of Archilochus ? in 
which case, a woman accompanying herself on the Pectis 
must needs have played an accompaniment both above 
her voice and below it, for her voice travelling (in the 


Mixolydian Mode) from ' ^ == to ^^ gj ^^ > 



it is plain that the Treble notes of the Pectis would 
range from a 4th to a 2nd above, fnot speaking of the 
unison on a), and the Bass notes from a 5th to a 7th 
below. And with a man on the Barbitos the case would 
be the same, and there would ' be intervals above and 
intervals below in like manner. 

Was this then still the method of accompaniment, or 
since this style would continually produce intervals that 
were distasteful to Greek ears, for it would produce not 
only 7ths in the lower part, but 6ths too, whenever 
the upper string was at a 3rd above the voice, must 
we not imagine a reversion to the Terpandrian style of 
Accompaniment with these new instruments, with this 
difference," that the Voice was now accompanied not only 
note for note, but by the 8ve of the note as well. This 
indeed seems more probable, and it is easier to imagine 
the singer on ordinary occasions confining his voice 
within the limits of a Tetrachord, and accompanying 
himself fluently in 8ves, than to imagine him spending 
the excessive pains which would be necessary in the 
Archilochean style of accompaniment, if all the 
obnoxious intervals, that bid fair to occur at every 
step, were successfully to be weeded out from the 8ve 
strings. And then this Octave accompaniment was 
the essence of " Magadising," and these two instru- 
ments, the Pectis and the Barbitos, were essentially 
Magadises, certainly in their make, and most probably 
in their use. So that we will prefer to assume that 
the latter style of accompaniment was the vogue now 
rather than the former, and we will see in it a further 
illustration of the same Renaissance or revival of the 
Antique, which brought the Enharmonic into use again. 


But the Pectis and the Barbitos may have sufficed 
the singer on ordinary occasions, but their limited 
compass must have laid restraint on the voice, and 
Pectis and Barbitos players could all play the Great 
Magadis when occasion required, and doubtless used it 
at least as often as their smaller instruments. It is 
Anacreon himself that says, " 1 have been playing the 
twenty-stringed Magadis, Leucaspis, and you have been 
growing into a woman." And though the Pectis and 
Barbitos may have served the turn of solo singers on 
occasions, the Great Magadis was invariably used to 
accompany Choruses, ^ its high 8ve going with the boys 
or women, and its low 8ve with the men. And perhaps 
the quality of its tone may have had something to do 
with this, for it was " trumpet-toned " — Keparo^wvoc says 
Telestes. To stand against a chorus, its strings must 
have been very strong and thick, much thicker than 
the strings of the old Lyre, and certainly they were 
longer. The bridging, if nothing else, must have made 
this lengthening necessary. The Pectis was a light 
instrument, a kind of lap Magadis, with short strings, 
since it was high. But the Barbitos, again, had long 
strings, agreeably to its low tone, and they are always 
represented very long on the vases. 

So these new instruments with the bridge in the 
middle supplanted the old Lyre in the Asiatic cities 
of Greece, and drove it clean from the field. And 
their tone was richer, and doubled to make it richer 
still, and the style of accompaniment changed with 
them, and the style of playing would also change 
For the action of the hands on the strings would be 
something quite new and different to what it used 
to be, now that there was a cross barrier right across 

I Except choruses of women alone, when the Pectis seems chiefly to have 
been used. 


the middle of them ; and the play of the hand in 

this partitioned space would be peculiar and unique. 

And Telestes, the poet, watching the action of the 

left hand on a Magadis, has converted it into a 

pretty simile, for he says : — 

aWog S' aXXav KXayyav hlg 

epeOit^e fiaya^iv, 

Iv TrevTapa^d^) ^op^av apiO/uio 

;^£tpa Ka/uipi^iavXov avaorpo^wv raxoQ- 

"He was teasing a Magadis into life, running his hand 
up to the bridge on one string, and down again on the 
other, like a racehorse runs np to its goal-post, tiwns it, 
and back again." 

And since Tr£vrapu(5d(jo is used here, which means that 
there were five strings on each side of the bridge,^ 
Telestes must be alluding to the small form of Magadis, 
not to the Great one with lo strings on each side. 

This was the strange style of playing that Telestes 
remarked, and there was something that was foreign 
to the Greek idea of grace and ease in it. And 
though the Magadis gained a temporary triumph over 
the Lyre in Asia Minor, it never took root in 
Greece Proper at all, but was always regarded as 
a stranger and interloper.^ And this will account for 
its comparative rarity in works of Greek Art. It is 
to be met with on the vases, but only on a few of 
them, I have never seen it on a sculpture, nor do 
I imagine it was ever represented in the round, though 
it may have been in bas-relief Even on the vases 
it was not e?i regie to represent a god with a 
Magadis in his hand, and when Lesbothemis, the 
sculptor, sculptured a Muse playing the Magadis in 

^ |0«j3Soc poetically for fiayag, 

^ Cf. TTr\KTiQ Se Mou(7y yavpLhxra jSapjSa/oft), and other 
such passages. 


Mytilene, there was general remark about it in Greece. 

Now I will take advantage of this opportunity to 
give the names of other instruments, that appeared 
either about this time, or not long after, in various 
parts of Greece. Nor can we say whether the 
wealthy city of Sicyon, or Corinth, or the traffic of 
the Cyclades, or these same ^olian and Ionian cities 
that we have hitherto been lingering in, were the doors 
by which they effected their entry, but certain it is 
that most of them were foreign, but where there 
seems a doubt in favour of a native origin, we will 
give it. 

And first there was the Scindapsus. And it was 
a high stringed instrument^ to accompany women's 
voices,^ and it was a foreign instrument,^ and very 
possibly first appeared in Sicyon.^ And in shape it 
was not unlike the Lyre,^ only it was larger than 
the common Greek Lyre.^ And it had a willow 
frame, which made it very light to hold. And this 
is what we know of the Scindapsus. And next was 
the Enneachordon. And the Enneachordon had nine 
strings, as its name implies. And it also was a foreign 
instrument.7 And next was the Phoenix, and there 
was a variety of it called the Lyrophcenix.^ And the 
Phoenix and the Lyrophoenix were plainly the 

^ Correcting o^vivog to o^vrovog, which seems a necessary 
correction, for we are told in the same line that it was made of willow, 
(e/c TrpojxaXoLO reTvy/xivog), and it is odd if a poet would describe an 
instrument as made of one kind of wood at the beginning of the line, and 
another at the end, first of beech, then of wiUow. 

^ aKiv^a^pog avriXaKaTOLO yvvaiKog. 

3 eK(f)v\og (Aristoxenus). 

4 The reason which leads the writer to believe this will be apparent 

5 \vpoeig. ^ fxeyag. 7 tK<pvXov (AristOxenus). 
8 Julius Pollux, IV. 59. 


Phoenician Lyre,i re-introduced as a novelty from 
Phoenicia, now that the original importation had in 
the course of centuries undergone so many changes 
of construction. And Ibycus, the poet, has the credit 
of introducing the Sambuca at this period.^ And the 
Sambuca was the small Egyptian triangular harp, with 
which we are already acquainted.^ And this Sambuca 
became notorious in later times as the instrument 
of the courtesans. And it was sometimes confounded 
with Sappho's Pectis, the Pectis indeed being called 
in later times by that very name.'^ And the confusion 
probably arose from their similarity in pitch, for they 
were both high,^ possibly from a similarity in timbre, 
and because they were used almost exclusively by 
women,6 and to accompany the same amorous style 
of song.7 Perhaps the Pectis was afterwards deflected 
somewhat into the triangular shape, but this we cannot 
tell.8 And then there was the Spadix, and the Spadix 

1 v-Ko ^oiviKwv evpedtiQ, says Athenaeus too, of the 
Phoenix, p. 637. vtto Svjowv of the Lyrophoenix. p. 175. 

2 Athenseus. p. 175. 

3 The triangular shape of the Sambuca is a question that has often been 
disputed, but I will bring two authorities in favour of the view. Isidore of 
Seville in his Origins. III. compares it to the letter Delta, A. And a 
better proof is an actual figuring of the Sambuca in the Muse Borbonico in 
Naples. It is^the instrument in the hands of the Hetaira. Vase, 51. It is also 
figured in Panofka's Neapel's Antike Bildwerke, 340. The shape is quite 

4 Athenseus, p. 635. 

5 Like the vipriXa Trrjicrtc the Sambuca was 6^v(f>6oyyog 
(Athen. 633). juera TroXXrjc o^vttjtoq, says Aristides, ^lu 
TTji' fxiKpoTtjTa tCjv xop^wv " ou accouut of the shortness 
of the strings," p. loi in Meibomius. 

6 Aristides in the same passage makes the Sambuca the female of the instru- 
ments ; and that women were its chief, perhaps only players is notorious. 

7 ilq itckvaiv irepiayei, says Aristides of the Sambuca, 
where c/cXvo-tc must be taken not in its musical sense, but 
as paXaKia. 

8 We certainly have i//aX//otc rpijcovov Trrjicrt^wv some- 
where, but this may be a confusion, 


was such another — a woman's lyre, and had the 
reputation of an effeminate instrument.^ Arid there was 
the Epigoneion, and this ^was a great lyre of many 
strings, invented by Epigonus of Sicyon, but how the 
strings were arranged we cannot certainly tell.- And 
the Simicium was also a great lyre of many strings, 
but not so many as the Epigoneion had.^ And then 
there was the Nablas,^ and the Ascarum,^ and the 
Pentachordon, which came from Scythia,^ and the 
Pelex, which looks like an indigenous production. 7 And 
the Psithyra was introduced at this time from Libya,^ 
and the Monochordon, or one-stringed lute, from 
Arabia ;9 and among the rest that came floating in, 
what should turn up but the Primeval Bin or Kin, 
with the identical 4 strings, just as we left it ages 
ago, and it was known by its Assyrian name of 
Pandura.i° And the Bin now appears in Greece. 
And all sorts of strange stories were on foot about 
this funny old instrument, among others that it had 

1 Julius Pollux, IV. 59. 

2 Julius Poll., IV. 59. Athenseus, 185. The term, ipaXryjpiov, which 
is bad Greek, or if found, only in very late writers, is applied t)y A thenaeus 
to this Epigoneion. Wherever we find ipaXriipiov in such authors, we are best 
to treat it as a general term = ' any stringed instrument that is plucked by the 
fingers instead of being struck by the plectrum,' and not as any specific instru- 
ment at all. This will reconcile nearly all the contradictions. Westphal has 
well brought this out in his remarks on the verb xpaXXeiv in his Geschichte. 
And why the Epigoneion was singled out afterwards most particularly to be a 
ipaXrqpiov was this, that Epigonus was the first man who dispensed with 
the use of the plectrum in these large instruments, and plucked them with 
both hands. Athen. loc. cit. If the Epigoneion was a form of Magadis, as I 
imagine, there was good reason why his innovation should attract comment. 

3 Jul. Poll. IV. 59. 

4 Jul. Poll. IV. 61. A Phoenician instrument. Sophocles calls it the 
Sidonian Nablas. 

5 Jul. Poll. loc. cit. 

6 Jul. Poll., IV. 60. 7 lb. 61. 8 lb. 60. 9 lb. 

10 lb. Julius Pollux makes it have 3 strings, which would point to a still 
more ancient form. cf. Vol. I. p — , but it is TaTpa\opdog in Athenaeus. 

thp: greeks. 159 

been made by the Pigmies, who lived on the shores of 
the Red Sea, out of the laurel that grows there.^ This 
was the tradition about that ancient instrument of our 
race, that it owed its creation to ' that small infantry 
warred on by cranes.' And next there was the 
Trigonus, and also the Heptagonon, both of foreign 
origin and foreign shape.^ And if we add to these the 
Sambuca and the Clepsiambus, which Archilochus had 
introduced in earlier times, we shall have exhausted 
the list of stringed instruments that were now introduced 
into Greece. But the lambuca had degenerated sadly 
from its old prestige, for it soon began to be classed 
with the other foreign instruments, all of which had a 
more or less questionable reputation, and it got to be 
used along with the Trigonus by fxoixoi, who went 
about serenading women at nights. And that is what 
gave it its bad name.^ 

Now the Trigonus and the Heptagonon and the 
Sambuca, besides being foreign instruments, had also a 
foreign shape, for the Trigonus and the Sambuca were 
triangular, and the Heptagonon was seven-sided, being 
shaped like a polygon in Euclid. But all the rest of 
these foreign instruments had been assimilated more or 
less closely to the shape of the national Lyre,4- if indeed 
they did not resemble it to begin with, as the Phoenix 
and Lyrophoenix certainly would. For the Lyre was 
the king and sovereign in Greece, and despite this 
crowd of interlopers it yet held its own, and they all 

1 Athenaeus, p. 184. 

2 Aristotle, Polit. VIII. 6. f/cri)iiAa opyava Aristoxenus calls 
Trigonuses at any rate, and the Heptagonon is still more un-Greek in form. 

^ vvKTspiva evps. fxoi\o7g asicrfiar iKKoXHaOai yvvalKag 
£-)(^ovTag ta/^j3vKT)v re koi rpiyojvov. Athenaeus p. 638. 
4 With one or two exceptions, as the Ascarura and Psithyra. 


soon again had to give way to it, and acknowledge its 
absolute dominion. It was only in Lesbos and the 
Asiatic cities that they made any head against it ; in 
Greece Proper, their role was limited to the inferior and 
lighter styles of song, and all the higher forms of 
musical art were from first to last entrusted to the 
Lyre. Its shape had not altered nor had its strings 
been increased since the time of Terpander. The old 
gap between B and D still remained : it had not been 
filled up even in Pindar's time. And we may well 
admire how two distinct styles of music must have 
existed side by side in Greece now — the national Greek 
style, with its scale of 7 notes with a note wanting 
between the 5th and 6th — this national Greek style on 
one hand, expounded by the Lyre, and on the other 
hand, the foreign style, with its scale of twenty notes, 
expounded par excellence by the Magadises.^ The only 
compliance which the Lyre had given to the tendency 
of innovation, was in the adoption of the plectrum to 
strike its strings with. This it accepted from the 
Magadises, and also the manner of using the plectrum. 
That is to say, the lyre-players held their plectrum in 
their right hand, but used their naked fingers with their 

I See a most sufjgestive contrast in Aristides Quinctilianus, p. loi, where 
the Lyre is called the Masculine instrument, and the Sambuca, which by 
Aristides' time might well represent the Magadises and other foreigners, is the 
type of the Feminine. The Lyre, deep and harsh {rryv TToXXrjv jiapvTrjTa 
Koi Tpa^vTt^Ta^ ■ the Sambuca, high and sweet. These latter are the 
instruments that irpog rjBovriv avvreivovcn roig uKOvovai tCjv 
Xpuifiivwv. To use Aristotle's words, and '^iovTm x^f^P^^P' 
yiKYiQ iTTKTTifiurjQ. He condemns them, and so does Plato, and all the 
supporters of the true Greek music, of which the Lyre was the representative. 
And the more one's acquaintance extends with Greek music, the more evidence 
does one find of the existence of these two styles, the national and the foreign, 
and the double treatment which is therefore forced upon a writer, and which 
necessitates not only a double treatment in the Instrumental portion itself, 
but also extends to other things, e.g., scales, &c., cannot but be productive oi 
a certain confusion, which it is hard in all cases to avoid, 


left. For both hands were used in playing the lyre^ — 
although there were no octaves to play, yet both were 
used. And probably the plectrum was used to strike 
the higher and tighter strings, just as it was to strike 
the higher 8ve in the Magadis, and bring out the 
tone smarter, and the left was used to strike the 
lower strings, which were in less tension, and therefore 
easier for the hand to play. And the right hand 
with its plectrum moved on one side of the instrument, 
and the left hand was on the other side. And the 
Lyre itself was held resting on the left shoulder, 
which seems to have been the traditional way of 
holding stringed instruments since the times of the 
ancient Egyptians, and is still the shoulder on which 
the modern harp rests to-day. 

And since the Lyre has so glorious a race to run, 
for we have yet only seen it in its childhood, and 
for some time back indeed it has been under a 
cloud in those Asiatic cities where we have been 
lingering, but we are now approaching Greece itself 
and the realms of its glory, and in many noble 
scenes shall we see it before our course is ended — 
but since the Lyre has so glorious a race to run, 
and young Apollo played it, we may well pause to 
describe it minutely, and relate with care its every part 
of it. And now then we will preside at its making. 
And Hermes walking by the sea shore found a 
tortoise, and he killed it, and made the shell empty. 
And then he turned to some reeds that were growing 
near, and cut pieces off them, all of a length, and he 

I I need not specify particular vases for this, which is apparent on all. 
And cf. the admirable remarks of Sir John Hawkins on the subject, I. 246, 
quoting Ptolemy (Harmonics, II. 12) and Plato. 



drilled holes in the tortoise-shell, and put these pieces of 
reed through there, pushing them into the body of the 
shell, for they were to serve as blocks to take off the 
strain from the shell. And then he covered the shell 
with a piece of bull's hide, and got two horns, and 
fastened them to one end of the shell, one horn on 
each side. And then he took a piece of wood to be a 
crosspiece, and fixed it crossways from the tip of one 
horn to the tip of the other. And then he got 7 
strings of gut, and tied them to the crosspiece, and the 
other ends he fastened at the bottom of the shell. 

In after times some additions were made to this 
form, and one or two variations. And the additions 
were pegs (koXXottec) in the crosspiece, to fasten the 
strings to ; and a bridge (fxaydg), to prevent the strings 
touching the shell ; and two sound-holes (i^^^ETa)^ cut in 
the shell, in order to add to its resonance. And the 
variations were in the materials of which the body of 
the instrument was made, for sometimes it was made 
of wood.* 

And the Greek names for the various parts of the 
Lyre we have described above were as follows : the 
Strings — vevpal, ^ojoSai, \iva, fxiroi, tovoi;^ the Horns, which 
were also called Arms — irrtx^i^y Kepara; the Cross-piece 
— t^vyov ; the Pegs — koXXottec ; and there was also 
a key to screw the pegs round with, when they wanted 
tuning, not unlike perhaps our tuning-hammer — 
Xopdorovovf the Bridge — fxayag; the Belly of the frame 

1 This is a conjectural emendation on Julius Pollux' Trrj^tia, which merely 
owe its IT to the TrrjVEte that occurs a moment before. 

2 Jamblichus. Vita Pythagorae, 118. 

3 The strings of the Lyre were all of the same length ; and height and 
depth were procured by variations in their thickness. Porphyry ad Ptol. 

4 According to Jamblichus (Vit. Pyth. XXVI.) yooSorovOV would he 
rather the neck or crosspiece of the Lyre, 

thp: greeks. 163 

— X^^vg, xfAwi^r/, and was still called x^^^^^ '^^ " ^^^ tortoise- 
shell," even when it was made of wood ; the Sound 
holes — rix^'i<^ J the little blocks or props inside the 
shell to carry off the strain — ^ovuKeg, because they were 
little stumps of reed. These are the dovaE, vTroXvptog 
which the Frogs in Aristophanes croak about, for they 
boast of their great kindness to Apollo in letting the 
reeds grow in their marshes, of which he had the 
blocks of his Lyre made.^ 

Now then these are the names of the various parts 
of the Lyre, and the name of the complete instru- 
ment was Avpa, as we know. But it also had other 
names, in this way : — 

£pZC KiOapig 

^o/zc, Doric, Attic \vpa 

General Poetic ^opiivy^ 

Later Poetry and the Latins . . . x^^^G, chelys, testudo, &c. 

And ^opfiiy^ is plainly from ^ejow, and means "the 

portable instrument."^ And the name given to the 

playing of the Lyre was T/zaXXav, of the left hand, 

which plucked the strings — but rarely used, for tpaXXeiv 

was applied properly to instruments which were played 

without a plectrum in either hand at all — and Kpeiceiv, 

of the right hand, which used the plectrum. And 

KpiKHv was indeed the general term that was used 

for Lyre-playing, unless the distinction of the hands 

was to be brought out. And over and above, the 

^ TrpoaETriTipTrerai S' 6 (pop/xiKrag 'AttoXXwv 
EVfKa BovaKog ov VTroXvpiov 
ivvBpov Iv Xipvaig Tp£<p(i). Frogs 231. 
In the disputed points of the Lyre's construction I shall be found to 
have followed the opinion of Westphal, whose admirable and lucid 
exposition in his Geschiehte p. 87 sq. deserves the admiration of 
2 Westplial's Geschichte. p. 90. 3 lb. . . 


general term, XvpiZeiv, which included both. And we 
may well notice how these terms that I have mentioned 
were some of them taken from weaving. For KpUuv 
meant either to fling the woof through the warp by 
means of the shuttle (KepKlg), or to strike the strings 
of the lyre with the TrXrJKrpov. And the threads of 
the loom were called fxiroi, and the same name was 
applied to the strings of the lyre. And the pegs on 
the cross-piece (koXXottec) were afterwards called by the 
same name as the pegs or spools, round which the 
threads of the warp were wound, for they were called 
TTvvia ("bobbins.")^ 

And it will be seen that the Lyre was a cross, so to 
speak, between the Aryan Lute and the Semitic Lyre. 
For it was plainly a compromise between the two forms. 
For the frame of the Aryan lute lay behind the 
strings] all the way up ; but the frame of the Semitic 
Lyre was all cut out behind the strings, and was indeed 
but a skeleton frame, of the harp style rather, and the 
strings were strung from rim to rim. And in the Lyre, 
the frame ran part of the way up behind the strings, 
but the rest was a skeleton frame. And thus it was 
plainly a union of the two forms. And this will best 
be shown by an engraving of the Lyre. And here is 
the Lyre : — 


I See in Julius Pollux. IV. 61. 
3 This is figured from Westpha,!, 


And having said that the Lyre reigned supreme in 
Greece itself, — if we had gone through the whole 
length of the land at this time, from Thrace or Epirus 
in the north to the island of Cythera at the south 
of the Peloponnese, we should have found the Lyre, 
with its chaste and severe style of simplicity, holding 
undoubted lordship over every other form of instrument, 
and the foreign ones particularly in little esteem. 
And in this way the Lyre may well be described as 
the sovereign monarch of the music. But there was 
one Greek city, and only one, which was an excep- 
tion to this rule. And that was the luxurious city 
of Sicyon, where the women were the handsomest in 
all Greece. And here was the worship of Aphrodite 
celebrated to perfection, coming hot from Phoenicia, 
and Aphrodite was worshipped in Sicyon under the 
licentious symbol of the dove.^ And the Magadis had 
attained a popularity here,^ unknown elsewhere except 
in Lesbos, and here had Epigonus been naturalised, 
who had made the Epigoneion, of many strings, 
which was probably a form of Magadis. And Sicyon 
the mart of Asiatic merchandise, and the Sicyonians, 
accustomed to the pomp and luxury of their merchant 
princes, could not be content with the simplicity of 
the Lyre, nor with the smallness of its tone, for the 
Lyre had a clipped, quilly tone, not unlike our 
Mandolin, which may still be heard in the Xvpa of 
the modern Greeks, as I have been informed by a 
countryman of Sophocles. And a form of Lyre 
had been introduced at an early time into the Pelo- 
ponnese from Asia,3 which had a slight difference of 

I This was the exact Assyrian form. 2 Athenaaus. p. 636. 

3 By Cepion the pupil of Terpander, It was called the Asiatic instru- 
ment. (Plut. De Musica. 6.) This seems the place to remark that the 
author has not hesitated to repudiate very many of the inventions which 
were attributed by the Greeks to Terpander, which if we admitted them all, 
the whole history of Music might be wrapped up in his personality. 


shape from the ordinary lyre, whereby the resonance 
of the strings had been somewhat increased. And 
this variety of lyre, which was called the Cithara, I 
have not mentioned before, because I intended to 
speak about it here. And the horns were broader in 
it, and hollowed to act as sound-boards, and the belly 
of the instrument was larger and broader. And these 
were the only differences. And it is plain that these 
two variations were introduced for no other object 
than to increase the resonance of the strings. But 
another and greater result than this was not long 
of following. For the sonorous and resounding strings 
would enter into rivalry with the voice, and at last 
the idea of playing them by themselves came, and 
leaving the voice part out ; and solo instrumental 
playing, which was essentially Asiatic, and thoroughly 
anti-Greek — for the Lyre from first to last was never 
used but as an accompaniment to the voice — grew 
up as the legitimate child of the Cithara. And so 
while the players on the Lyre were called Xup(i)8oi, 
(Xvpa & wBri), which means " singers to the lyre," the 
players on the Cithara were called KiBapLaTai, that is, 
' performers on the cithara.' Now whether the Cithara 
did not come to Greece to begin with as a solo 
instrument, may well admit conjecture. 
^ Cithara playing did not make much way at first, 
for there was something in^ it opposed to the Greek 
spirit, nor did it make much headway in Greece, 
until it was taken up by the luxurious city of 
Sicyon. And what the Sicyonians did for the Cithara 
was this : they made its strings much longer, and 
gave it a magnificent (evojKog) tone.^ And Lysander, 

I Atheiiseus, 637. 


the Sicyonian, has the credit of doing this. And then 
as it stood out so finely in its solo, they conceived 
the idea of treating it as if it had been a man- 
singer singing. For they used other instruments to 
accompany its glorious solo, accompanying it ' above 
the song,' and sometimes they used the Flute to 
accompany it,i and sometimes the lambuca, which 
was thence often called the Pariambis, because it 
played ' alongside of the Cithara.^ And the effect 
of these two stringed instruments of different timbres 
playing together was very beautiful, so that no one 
but could admire the interlacing of the strains.^ But 
it was the Samians who gave the Cithara its Greek 
touch, which it could not long be in favour without 
receiving. For Stesander, the Samian, first began to 
sing to the Cithara as men sang to the Lyre, that is to 
say, he revived the early style which it first had before 
it overarched and triumphed over the voice, or, if it 
were from the first a solo instrument, as we indeed 
are willing to imagine, he gave it the Greek touch, 
and made it an accompaniment again."*- And he must 
have had a noble voice himself to have done so, for the 
tone of the Cithara would have drowned any ordinary 
voice, whence when this style of Stesander's came 
definitely into vogue, as it afterwards did, it was only 
great virtuosos and the best singers who dare venture 
on it, and the Lyre remained to the last the instrument 
of the multitude. 

1 lb. Another reason was to enrich the sound. Id. 638. 

2 JuUus Pollux identifies the lambuca and the Pariambis, so I imagine 
the Pariambis was the name it had when it accompanied the Cithara. 

3 Km. VTravXa (T(j>iv (TO^oe Kiddpq. Trapia/ufdi^ag' 

a St y^ydOei ttv Kiviov Kp ey juivv aKpoaZ,ofxiva. 

4 Athen. 638. 


History of music. 

This then is what the Sicyonians did for the Cithara, 
how they increased the sonorousness of its strings, and 
accompanied its solo by other instruments. And the 
Samians on the other hand used it to be the accom- 
paniment of the voice. So now there were two styles 
of Cithara Music, and the first style was the Citharistic 
or Solo Cithara Style, and the second was the 
Citharoedic or Cithara in Accompaniment {KiBapa & (JStj), 
and this was the style of Stesander the Samian. 

Now then I will give engravings of the Cithara and 
the Lyre, to show off the difference between them : — 

And the figure on the left is the Cithara, and the 
figure on the right is the Lyre. And all those horns 
in the cithara are hollow, and what sonorousness they 
would give to the strings ! And so would that broad 
hollow belly of the instrument. That would also give 
sonorousness. And the horns of the cithara, they were 
so broad and big, were now called not horns but 
' arms ' (ayKwvzg). And the cithara is in shape like 
a great magnet, as we may see. 

And the Cithara was decked out with carvings and 
paint;2 it was one of Greece's ' sweetly sounding 

1 This is Westphal's figuring, though I might have been disposed to 
represent the Cithara in the common form it appears in in the sculptures, that 
is, broader, and also squarer at the bottom* 

2 Westphal's Geschichte p. 89. 


carvings.' ^ And the Cithara player was arrayed in a 
long flowing robe \^ and crowned with a garland he 
stood on an eminence among the people, and sang 
his beautiful song.^ And the long flowing robe was 
what Arion arrayed himself in, when he was told to 
prepare to die, having to cast himself in the sea in 
order to escape the malice of the sailors. And 
arraying himself in his long flowing robe, and with 
his cithara in his hand, he stood on the poop, and 
sang the Orthian song. And even those sailors 
retired awhile to hear him, for he was the finest 
cithara singer in the world. 

So then the Cithara was the instrument of the great 
and splendid singers, and it was thus the instrument 
of the Agon (the musical contests at the Olympian, 
Pythian, and the other games). But on all other 
occasions the Lyre was nearly universally employed ; 
at banquets, revels, at the gymnasiums, in domestic 
life ; used by women, boys, and men alike. The 
Lyre is in the hands of the Heroes, as Achilles, 
Paris ; often played by girls to each other in their 
chambers. Also bards the most renowned use it — it 
is the instrument of Orpheus, Thamyris, Musoeus. 
Also in the hands of the Gods. Apollo, as Agonistic 
Citharoed, has the Cithara, but otherwise he has the 
Lyre, as in his wanderings among the Hyperboreans. 

^ Tii T kv 'EAXt)(ti ^6av a^vjULeXri (Sophocles). 
'^ The (TKtvT]. 

3 Der Kitharaspieler erscheint stets in langherabwallenden Prunkgewande 
der agonistischen Kitharoden ; er ist bekranzt, und steht auf einem erhohten 
Platze, ihm zur Seite ein Kainpfrichter, und eine Nikeiiberreichtihm entweder 
vor Beginn des Kampfes die Kithara oder nach dem Siege den Preis. 
Westphal's Geschichte. 89. 90. 


Artemis has sometimes one, sometimes the other : 
Satyrs, Bacchantes, generally the Lyre, seldom the 
Cithara : Hermes, Eros, Dionysus, the Lyre. 

And now having seen how the chastity of the 
Greek spirit impressed itself on the Cithara, and taught 
it to range its beautiful tones, which would fain have 
stood alone, beneath the tutelage of the voice, for 
though Citharistic still continued, it was much eclipsed 
by Citharoedic, where the voice sang, and the cithara 
only accompanied — and having seen this, we have now 
to see how that wonderful whiteness of beauty, the 
Greek mind, mastered and tamed a much more wilful 
instrument than the Cithara, and an instrument that 
from the first was like to revolve on a plane of its 
own, for the mouth that should have sung was bound 
in playing it, and the Voice was fettered that ought 
to speak. And this instrument was the Flute. And 
Olympus coming from Phrygia had brought the Flute 
from Phrygia to Greece. And he played beautiful 
elegies and dirges on his flute. And his flutes 
sighed and wept. But this tenderness of passion 
must not long be, or men will become women under 
it. And so in the south of Greece, in the Pelop- 
onnese it was, and in the district of Arcadia, there 
came a reaction against the flute-playing of Olympus, 
and the leader of it was Clonas of Tegea. And 
some say indeed that the style of Clonas had been 
anticipated by Ardalos of Troezen, and that this 
school of Grecian flute-playing was in being before 
the time of Olympus. But however that may be, 
let us notice how these flute - players baffled the 
enervating tendencies of the Flute. And they did it 
by never playing without a singer to sing beside 
them. And the melting nothings of the Flute were 
thus tamed and taught reason. For the singer sang 



his words, and the flute-player accompanied him — 
accompanying him above the song (viravXiov), as the 
Lyre did the Voice, and it was in every respect 
similar. And this was the style of Greek flute-playing 
— that is to say, never the flute without the Voice — 
as opposed to the foreign' style of flute - playing, 
which was the Solo Flute. And the Greek style 
was called the Auloedic {avXbg & (i}^rj), and the foreign 
style, Auletic, in which there was no ii^Bi), or 'song'. 
Yet we may suppose that there were Greek repre- 
sentatives of Auletic, as there must have been, since 
the school of Olympus made so profound an impression 
on Greece. There were Greek flute-players of both 
styles, but the Auloedic was always considered the 
national style, and was held in most esteem. And 
there was another foreign style of flute - playing 
introduced subsequently to that Phrygian style of 
Olympus, and that was the Lydian style. And the 
Phrygian style was the style of grief, but the Lydian 
style was the style of love. And of this we will 
speak hereafter. 

Now though the tradition is, that the true Grecian 
style of flute-playing was never known without the 
accompaniment of a singer, is it not hard to imagine 
that shepherds, sitting in the fields on an idle day, 
did not long before take reeds and blow into them 
to amuse themselves with the sound, without ever 
thinking of a singer to accompany them, or indeed 
of chastity of flute-playing at all? For a flute is so 
easy to make. You have but to take a stalk of corn, 
and squeeze it near the pulpy end till it splits in two, 
and blow in it, to hear the tart tiny sound coming out 
of your little hautboy, for it is a hautboy you have 
made. Or if you would make a simple flute, it is easier 
still, for any empty reed and blowing over the top will 


give you a flute. Or taking many empty reeds, and 
binding them together as they did with beeswax and 
thread,^ you shall have a syrinx — all, instruments such 
as an idler would invent, sitting alone on a summer's 
day. And did not Pan, 'whose mighty palace roof of 
boughs doth hang from jagged trunks and over- 
shadoweth Eternal whispers, glooms, the birth, life 
death Of unseen flowers in heavy peacefulness ' — was 
not he always alone who invented the Syrinx ? So that 
we may well suppose that flutes were known or ever 
the Auloedic was thought of, and that shepherds piped 
on the lawn in Greece, as they did in other lands, 
tossing out the pretty sounds through whole solitary 
hours, with no other object than to amuse an idle ear. 

And this we will assume, and say that flutes were 
played in Greece in earliest times, as they seem 
always to be played, that is, as solo instruments, and 
that when they obtained a substantial footing in Art, 
then but not till then they were used in constant 
company of the voice, in the style of the Greek 

And now since we know how to make these little 
pipes, we will say we know how to make pipes on the 
Hautboy or Double Reed principle, for this little split 
end of straw is the same double reed that we use in 
our hautboys ; and that we also know how to make 
pipes on the Flute principle, for the obliquely held 
Flute — its tube is open at one end, and the breath 
passes down the tube, being directed in, by the help 
of the lip, at right angles. But in the Syrinx it does 
not pass down the tube, but only beats against the 

Qtlaa. Julius Pollux, IV. 6g. 


top of it. And now we will go on to see the two 
other Principles on which pipes may be made, and 
then we will cast our eye on the Greek Pipes, and 
try and see to which of the principles we may refer 
them. And the two other principles are the Single 
Reed or Clarionet Principle, and the Flageolet 
Principle. And you can make a little Clarionet out 
of a straw in this way: You must take a straw that 
has a knot at one end, but the other end must be quite 
open. And with your penknife cut through the straw, 
cutting it an inch from the knot. Then turn the 
blade of the knife flat, and pass it upwards towards 
the knot, and in this way you will raise a long strip 
of the straw, and this strip will be the reed or tongue 
of the clarionet, and the sound will be produced by 
the breath setting this reed or tongue in vibration, as 
it passes over it into the pipe.^ And this is the Single 
Reed or Clarionet Principle. And the Flageolet 
Principle, which yet remains to consider, is made in a 
different way altogether, and not at all like this, for 
instead of cutting below your knot, you shall make a 
thin incision through it, if you would make a Flageolet, 
and then you cut a hole a short distance down, as we 
see in penny whistles, which slopes to a sharp edge 
inwards. And what makes the sound is the breath 
fluttering against that sharp edge. And this is the 
Flageolet Principle. And it is the softest and 
sweetest of all the Pipes, and shares the honours with 
the P'lute. 

And now how shall we refer our Greek Pipts to 
one or other of these Principles, for we have now 

I Agreeably to the directions of Professor Tyndall, quoted in Chappel's 
History of Music, p. 260 sq. 


Four principles, the Double Reed, the Single Reed, 
the Flageolet, and the Flute principles, and how shall 
we refer our Grecian Pipes to one or other of these ? 
And it is plain that when we hear of a soft sweet pipe, 
we must refer it to the Flageolet or the Flute principle, 
and if it is held obliquely it will be a Flute, but a 
Flageolet if it is held straight down. And thus we 
may say that the Monaulos, which was the sweetest 
of all the pipes, for ' it trilled the sweetest melodies,'^ 
and was the nightingale of the pipes, if we may take 
Sophocles' word for it, and this was the pipe that was 
played at marriages^— and since the Monaulos was 
held straight down, and not crossways, we know that 
the Monaulos must have been a Flageolet, which is 
even sweeter than a Flute. But the Photinx, which 
was held obliquely (TrXajiavXog),^ was therefore the 
same as our Flute, and it was held in precisely the 
same fashion, that is to say with the foot pointing past 
the right shoulder (' ad aurem pertractum dexteram! 
Apuleius). But the Gingras was a small hautboy, and we 
know it in this way, for there is a specimen of an actual 
Gingras in existence, and it was found in an Egyptian 
tomb, like Alcman's poems were, and it has the 
double reed mouthpiece the same as our hautboy.4 
But what shall we say of those Phrygian Pipes, that 

^ raq Tfciarag apfxoviag avafxivvp'u^H, 

^ avaXal^ojv fxovavXov rjwXowv rov vfiivaiov. Athenaeus. 
p. 176, avkii Se fx6vav\og fxaXiara tov yafxriXiov. Jul. 
Pollux. IV. 75. 

^ Kat TOV KoXovfJ-Evov <j)U)Tiyya irXajiavKov. Athen. p. 
It should seem that wXaylavXog is more a general term for 
any cross flute, as opposed to the fl{ite-a-bec. 

4 It is in the British Museum. W. Chappell. (History of Music Vol. I.) 
mentions this Gingras. He seems to think that it is rather an Egyptian pipe. 
I imagine, however, it is a real Gingras. which we are expressly told was 
an avKiav^Q (Jul. Pol. IV, 75.) just like the specimen in question . 


gave so plaintive and mournful a tonep^ And shall 
we not say that then were heard for the first time 
the veiled melancholy notes of our own clarionet ? 
And these were the Pipes that Olympus played, And 
there were deep Phrygian pipes that had a bell at 
the end, just as ours have,^ and the object of the 
bell was to lengthen the column of air, and make 
them deeper,^ And these would be clarionets too, but 
their tone would be that of our lower register, while 
those of Olympus would be nearer the middle 
register ;''• unless indeed we should prefer to make the 
deep Phrygian Pipes of the low hautboy order, as the 
Corno Inglese, &c., which may well be done. And 
the Lydian Pipes, which were the Pipes of Love, to 
what order shall we refer these? And we will say 
that they were of the Flageolet or Flute order. And 
the Lydians were so fond of the Syrinx. 

And when we hear of pipers keeping their mouth- 
pieces in boxes — for this is another way we may get 
at the character of the pipe — we shall say that the 
the pipes that these men played, who kept their 
mouthpieces, or reeds, we would rather call them, in 
boxes, were of the Hautboy order of pipe, because 
the double reed, which is the mouthpiece of the 
Hautboy, is so much more delicate than the single 
reed of the Clarionet, and all Hautboy players are 
obliged to keep their reeds in boxes, but Clarionet 

I Jul. Pol. IV. 75. et passim. 
^ Kcpac Se tolq avXoig (sc. roig (ppvyioig) avavevov irpoaeari 

Julius Pollux. IV. 74. 

3 Porphyry (Commentary on Ptolemy, p. 217. Wallis' Edition) says that 
the Phrygian pipes were the deepest of all pipes. 

4 It roust be said that there is no proof of Ihis, It is only a surmise. 


players only cover them with a cap.^ 

So then some of the Greek pipes, and fortunately 
the principal ones, we may well refer to one or other 
of our four varieties, but there are many pipes that 
we cannot exactly refer, and are constrained to treat 
them quite generally, and say that they certainly 
belonged to one or the other order indeed, but we can 
only speculate which. Though much of the doubt 
that hangs over them may be cleared if we are 
advised how many of the terms are synonymous. For 
just as we talk of a violin as a fiddle, or a bowed 
instrument, or a stringed instrument, or speak of 
chamber instruments, still meaning violins, or call a 
clarionet the boxwood pipe, to distinguish it from a 
hautboy, which is not made of boxwood — the same 
ooseness of speaking prevailed among the Greeks, the 
same instruments being constantly called by different 
names, when sometimes the material it was made of, 
and sometimes the look of it, or the shape of it, or 
even the purpose for which it was employed, were 
variously in the mind of the writer, , Thus the 
Monaulos was also called the Shepherd's Pipe (riTvpivog),'^ 

I The jXioaaa answered to our reed, and the ^tvyoc to 
our mouthpiece — that is, where the reed is inserted. They 
were both reeds (Porphyry. 250.) and the ^evyog was as 
soft and pliable as the yXtjaaa (cf. Id. p. 252.) We must 
imagine that both were kept with equal care. Good 
yXCjacrm were irvKvai koI Atmt kol 6/naXa\ (p. 250. Porphyry) ; 
good ^Evyrj were those that were (Selipajjueva kol ra TreTrwKora 
TO (TiaXov, that is, they improved by use. (lb.) It is hard 
to distinguish, but I think that to regard the yXioaaa as 
the reed, and the K^vjog as the reed of attachment, if we 
may so call it, which connected the reed with the stem of 
the pipe, will to some extent meet the difficulty. 
3 AthenKUs. 176, 


or the KoXafiavXrig,^ or the KaXufxivog.^ And we must not 
think that we have here four different pipes, but the 
same pipe only, called by different names. And the 
Syrinx was called the pairarayXng, or the paTrTavXr}g — 
that is, ' the stitched pipe,'^ because it was made of 
reeds stitched together and glued with beeswax. And 
the Common Flute {(pioriy^. irXayiavXog) was also 
called the Lotus Pipe (Xivnvog awX6c)4 in the same 
way, because it was often made of Lotus wood. And 
the Nablas was but a variety of the Gingras, or 
small hautboy, for it had the same querulous tone ; ^ 
yet when it wcs made of ivory, as the Phoenicians, 
made it, it was called the Ivory Pipe (iXe(f)dvTivog avXog) 
and has thence been thought to be another pipe.^ 
And what was that Wild Beast pipe7 of the Thebans 
but a flageolet, but got its new name because the 
Thebans made it out of the bones of animals? And 
it was covered on the outside all over with brass, and 
you would never have known it was made of bone, 
unless you had been told. And the Elymus was a 
Phrygian Pipe,8 but it was often confounded with the 
Scytalia,9 by reason of a slight similarity of shape. 
For Elymos (iXuw) = " the crumpled pipe," and the 
Scytalia was also a crumpled pipe, but then the 
Elymos was only slightly crooked,^° and perhaps its 

I lb. 2 lb. 182. 

3 This is a conjecture. See Athenaeus. 176. who does not identify them. 
Cf. also Hesychius. 

4 Athen. 182. Jul. Poll. IV. 74. 

^ 6E,v KOL yospbv (jiOtyyo/uavog. Ath. 174' 

6 This seems the best way of taking the iXe^avTivoi avXol of 
Athen. 182. i.e. either Nablases (cf. Id. 175.) or Gingrases made of ivory. 

7 ^{jpHog avXog. Jul. Poll. IV. 75. 

8 Jul. Poll. IV. 74. q lb. 

10 That the Phrygian Pipes were curved all the way up seems probable. 
See particularly the votive tablet of M. Csecinna in Montfau9on. Supple- 
meiit, Tom. II, 



bell turned more up than in the other Phrygian 
pipes, and this is how it got its name. But the 
Scytalia was of a different shape altogether, for it 
was as thin as a twig,^ but then it had carvings 
round it, I think, like the way that the Lacedaemonian 
commanders wound the parchment round their scytalae. 
And being such a thin short pipe, it was probably a 
little Gingras, and yet it was confounded with the Elymus, 
because its outside was crumpled. And then pipes were 
sailed from the purposes for which they were employed. 
And the pipe which was used to accompany the 
Cithara, and we do not know which of these it was, 
was called the Cithara Pipe (avXog KiOa^uaTripiog),^ and 
the pipe that was used to accompany the dances of 
girls, and probably it was the Flageolet — when then 
it was used to accompany the dances of girls, it was 
called the Girls' Pipe (TrapOiviog avXbg) ;^ and the pipe 
that was used to accompany the songs of boys,'^ and 
certainly it was either the Flageolet or the Flute 
(liovavXog or (pwTiy^), was then called the Boys' Pipe, 
unless indeed we imagine a smaller and higher variety 
of them, for the Boys' Pipe usually appears in the 
diminutive, juovavXiov and ^wrtyytov.^ And pipes were 

1 Scaliger's Poetics. I. 

2 Jul. Pollux, IV. 77. "We know it was irvKvbg, but that is all. 

3 lb. 81. oTc TrapOlvoL Trpocrexopevov, he says in section 10 
of same book. 

'^ olg TTatSec TrpcjcrySoy. lb. 

5 I imagine we may well identify the Boys' Pipe with, 
the Flageolet or the Flute, and particularly with their small 
varieties, thus : The Boys' Pipe was the same as the i^iuioiTog 
(Ath. 182). The i)mioirog was a small pipe, since t6v S' 
rimioirov, says ^schylus, kol rov iXacraova TCix^wg 6 juiyag 
KarairivH, therefore we may expect to find it a diminutive. 
It was also a tender pipe, ripeveg r]/uio7rni, says Anacreon. 
And putting these two things together, may we not assume 


called in virtue of their compasses, and there were 
Perfect Pipes and Extra - Perfect Pipes. ^ And the 

Perfect Pipes would perhaps go down to A ^'— — 1— 


and whether the Extra - Perfect Pipes went below A, 
may admit conjecture. Nor can we certainly tell 
which were the Medium Pipes (/zEa-oKOTrot),^ or which 
of the pipes had holes below as well as above (yiro- 
rpr/rot).3 And what those pipes with two holes were 
(St'o7rot),4 I profess myself unable to understand. 

And the materials of which the Pipes were made 
were reeds, copper, lotus wood, boxwood, horn, or 
ivory, or laurel,^ but then it must be the laurel 
plant and not the tree, and a stalk of this with the 
pith taken out made the pipe.^ 

And now we may well admire a strange thing about 
the Greek Pipes — and that is, that many of them were 
double. And the Phrygian Pipes were double, being 
double Hautboys or Clarionets,^ and the Lydian Pipes 
were many of them double, being double Flageolets, 

that the i}fxioirog was the same as one or other of those two 
pipes, the ^wriyytov and fiovavXiov, which are the only two 
diminutive names of pipes we have ? And if any further 
evidence is wanted, let us hear Athenaeus : XP^'^'^^'- ^**'C 
TrmS/KoTc avXoXg Trpog rag evwx^iag. But on p. 1 76. we hear 
of revels, oXg irapeKUvro (fxtiTiyyia kol /uiovavXia, All then 
that remains for us to do, is to select which of the two we 
prefer for the Boys' Pipe, the (pwriyyiov or the /xovavXiov, 
and remembering Anacreon's rip-qv, we will fix on the 

^ reXttot KCLL vTTepTaXeiou Ath. 1 76. 

2 lb. 3 lb. 4 Jul. PoU. IV. 77. 

5 Jul. Poll. IV. 71. 

^ ^d<pvr]g TTJg ^afxaiZf^Xov kKo^oc, r-qv ivTipLU)vr\v a(br}pri juevog 


7 Jul. PoU. IV. 74. et passim. 


These are the av\oi yvvaiKriioi te koL av^pi]ioi of the 
Lydians, that Herodotus speaks about, ^ ' men and 
women pipes,' and yet we must not go to think of 
our Greek TratStKoi avXoi and -rrapOivioi avXoi, ' boy 
and girl pipes,' in the same breath with them, for 
these last were not double, but single pipes as we 
have seen. And it is questionable if the double pipe 
was indigenous in Greece, but they took it from the 
Phrygians and Lydians. And these Phrygian and 
Lydian pipes, double hautboys and double flageolets, 
we must not at all imagine were like our Double 
Flageolet. For they were not joined as it is, but were 
two separate pipes, with no other bond of union than 
that they were always played together. I have seen 


a Silenus with his pipes thus, A , holding them loosely 

so, preparatory to playing, and then he would place 
them both in his mouth, so that if you were some 
distance off, you would think they were indeed 
joined, which were not so. And the pipes were held 

freely in the mouth, generally at this angle 

/ \ 

but sometimes they were held wider, but not often I 
think nearer. By comparison then with the Greek 
style, the modern Double Flageolet player observes a 
cramped attitude. And how were these pipes played, 
and what was the object of the doubling ? And the 
object of the doubling was this, that one might 
accompany the other, for one played the melody and 
the other accompanied,^ accompanying it above the 


1 Herod. I. 17. 

2 Varro. De Re Rustica. I. 2. 16. Altera niodorum incentiva, altera 
succentiva. Porphyry speaks of one pipe being softer than the other. Com- 
mentary on Ptolemy. 24^. 


song, in the style of Archilochus, and the Right 
Flute, which was the deeper one, played the melody, 
and the Left, which was the higher one, played the 
light accompaniment to it.^ ^ Les Flutes droitesl writes 
M. Wagener, translating a fragment of Donatus, 
^ exprimoient par leurs sons graves les parties serieiises 
de la concordie, tandis que les flutes gatcches en faisoient 
ressortir le caractcre joyeux par leurs sons eleves.^ ^ 
For indeed the left was always the happy hand in 
Greece, so different to what it is now.^ 

And now we will go on to determine the relation of 
the two harmonious parts to each other. And since 
pipes of the same length give the same note, but 
half the other's length gives the 8ve, and two-thirds 
of the other's length gives the 5th above, but three- 
fourths the other's length gives the 4th above, let us 
decide how our Greek double pipes were related to each 
other, by thinking of their lengths. And I have seen 
pipes on the vases and the marbles the same length, 
and I have seen them a third as long, that is, one 
two-thirds the other's length, and I have seen them 
very nearly, but not quite equal. And what these 
last would be I cannot pretend to say, but think 
that my eye must have played me false, or else, 
perhaps, the carver has allowed for a foreshortening, 
and this must have deceived me. But with the other 
two it is plain ; for the two equal pipes must be 
in the unison, and the pipes a third as long must 
be the shorter one a 5th above the other. So then 

1 Succlnlt tibia sinistra. lb. 

2 Memoires couronnecs par 1' Academic Royale de Belgique. Tom. XXXI 

3 Alas ! that euwvujUoC need be a euphemism. But with the Latins 
■will hold. 


the last must be playing in the genuine Archilochean 
style, where the accompaniment kept a 5th and less 
above the melody. But with the pipes in the unison, 
there must have been an interlacing of the strains, as 
we saw in the Cithara accompanied by the Pariambis. 
And since we are told that it was the Revel 
Pipes that were equal,i for the conceit was that 'in 
the revel all are equal,'^ and the pipes must needs 
share the equality of the company ; in keeping with 
this, we find these equal pipes chiefly in the hands 
of Fauns, Satyrs, and Maenadson the marbles. And of 
the unequal pipes, we hear that sometimes the double 
pipe took the place of the sweet Monaulos at 
marriages, and here was the pretty conceit about it : 
" The Pipes are two and yet are one, and thus they 
are bride and bridegroom ; and they are in harmony 
with each other, and one is bigger and taller than 
the other, because the man is bigger and taller than 
the woman,"3 So we may well surmise that our 
double pipes, one a third longer than the other, are 
the pipes in question here ; and they would doubtless 
be the Lydian Love Pipe, which was a Double 
Flageolet, being indeed a Monaulos doubled. And 
the Phrygian Pipes would doubtless observe the same 
proportions as the Lydian, that is, one would be a 5th 
above the other. But then the Phrygian Pipes were 
the Pipes of Grief and Passion — they were low 
melancholy pipes, and there would be something of 
the boom of our bassoon in the lower pipe — while 
the Lydian Pipes warbled like birds. 

1 Jul. Pell. IV. 80. 

2 rriv yap laorriTa (TVf.nro(Ti(ji) TrptTreiv. lb. 

3 Jul. PoU. lb, One of Plutarch's Pretecepta Conjugalia is to the same 
effect, though I forget which. 


And now observe in the flesh what we never see 
in the marbles, or even on the vases, which are freer 
of admitting novelties and rarities of musical art than 
the marbles are — and that is a double pipe that 
played in 8ves, which must therefore have had one 
pipe not a third as long, but twice as long as the 
other. For this double pipe that we speak of gave 
at the same time — Iv tuvtc^ o^vv koX (dapvv (j)d6yyov,^ 
being indeed avriipOoyjog, and playing in Sves like a 
certain prototype among the stringed instruments, to 
which it answered in every respect, not only in its 
music, but also in its name. For it was called 
Magadis, like its pattern,^ and the pipes played in 
Sves, and doubtless in the Magadising way, that is, 
the high pipe not accompanying the low one with 
Archilochean accompaniment, but playing in Sves 
with it. And this pipe was chiefly used, as I take 
it, to accompany choruses, as the Magadis itself was. 
So now there was a Magadis pipe, as well as a 
Magadis Lyre, and we may admire how the tendencies 
of the time had at last affected the Flutes. 

And we speak here of the tendencies of the age' 
perhaps unadvisedly, for passing as we have through 
many scenes since then, we have almost forgotten 
what the tendencies of the age were. And these 
tendencies were to doubling and to composition 
whereby the single-voiced choirs had grown into double 
choruses of girls and men, and instruments of the 

I Athenaeus. p. 182. 

2 Athen. loc. cit. Mayadiv XaXr^crtu fiiKpov afxa aoi »cat 
fieyav, which shows their difference in lengths. Cf. 
Hesychius. voc. juayadHg. There was a Sambuca pipe, as well 
as a Magadis Pipe, according to Isidore of Seville, but we have not any 
description of it. 


stringed kind had had their strings increased each 
by its 8ve, and had become doubled too, and now 
the flute had taken the Magadis for its model, and 
followed in its tracks ; and indeed the Double Pipes 
themselves are a feature and another exemplification 
of this movement ; for depend upon it, where a wave 
of tendency strikes an age, it will affect every tiny 
tessela of which that age is pieced together. And we 
have seen it acting on the feet, bringing two feet 
together and making a double or compound foot out 
of them. And this is how the feet were clustering in 
pairs in Sappho's time. But now more so. For we 
must imagine that tendency, which we saw in its 
infancy then, to have now reached its due develop- 
ment and completion, and the two Iambuses to have 
really joined into a Diiambus, and the two Trochees 
into a Ditrochee, and the Iambus and Trochee into an 

Antispast, \j \j, and so on. So that now if we 

would scan her beautiful line, 

vvfJL^aLQ ToiQ Atoc ts alyi6\h} (pam rervyfilvaig. 

we will no longer scan it by Iambuses and Trochees, 
but by Antispasts instead, 

\J — — wlw — — w|w — KJ \J \ \J \J 

vvuipaXg rale Ai \ og tt, alyi | o;^a» (paal \ rervyjuevaic;. 

And here in the third place we have a new compound 
foot, compounded of Iambus and Pyrrhic, but in the 
4th place we have a Diiambus. 

Now this compounding with the Pyrrhic was not 
limited to the Iambus alone, but other feet were also 
compounded with it, as the Spondee ; for taking 
another line of Sappho's, and scanning it by compound 
eet instead of simple ones, we shall see this new 
foot, that was made out of the Spondee and the 
Pyrrhic : — 


__V7wl_ _ww|_ _ y \j \ -— \j — \j \ 
^v-ILiop(j)0-Ti-pa Mvacn6i -Ka tag a-wa-Xag Tvpivvuig 

wwl _ww| _ — wwl — \J — wl 

a-a-a-po-ri-pag ov-^a-fxa ttio "pavva cri-Oav rv-;^oT-c7a. 

And in the last place we have a Ditrochee. 

And that other line of hers we will now scan : 

w_w I w ,— ^ — I 

a-i TrapOeivog icrdOfiai. 

that is to say, by Ditrochees and Diiambuses. And 

other lines by double feet in like manner, thus : — 



TToAXa ^' ava-pidfia ttoti) -pt-cu 

\j \j |ww_- — \ \J \J 

Ti /LLk liavSi -ov-ig (h pavva ^EAfOwi/. 

_W \J — l_ WW_| \J — I 

avTup o - pti - ai (TTecpavirf ir/ 

And this tendency had by this time grown so strong, 
that even the 6 foot Iambus line of Archilochus was 
henceforth scanned by doubled feet instead of single 
ones, viz., by Diiambuses instead of simple Iambuses,^ 

KJ W — Iw — \J — KJ — KJ I 

ljLi.Tip\OfiaL (7£ avpl'ioAov TTOtevfievog. 

And so we must always scan it for the future. And 
his Trochaics in like manner, not by Trochees but by 

I h ! 1^ 1 hi hi hi hi h I 

\j w| w w| \J w| \J .|| 

And this is how his Trochaic line came to be called 
Tetrameter, because it had 4 bars (fxirpov) in it now, 
instead of 8. And his Iambic line was called 
Trimeter for the same reason, because it had 3 bars. 
But the old Hexameter never gave way to these new 

1 Hepheestion scans the ist syllable long. 

2 Marius Victorinus. 2572. 


tendencies, and retained its name and its original 6 
bars to the end.^ 

And now we may well admire how the Time of the 
Music has altered under these new conditions, for to 
say that a Trochaic line was scanned by Ditrochees and 
with four bars, instead of by single Trochees and with 

8 bars, what is it but saying that ^ time had now 


supplanted H? And in the Iambic line it was just the 

same, for this was now in ^ time, which once was in ^ 

likewise. And those other feet that Sappho had begun 

to use, were not these also in g time ? And it is plain 

that some of them were at any rate ; but what time 
they each and all were severally in, we must determine 

by the beat. For in j^ time there are 2 beats — the first 

falling on the ist note of the 6, and the 2nd on the 4th 

note, that is to say, on the ist note of each original ^ 

bar. And the Antispast, w w, will plainly admit of 

this beating, for if I mark the beat by a stroke | it is 

plain that the Antispast beating will read easily thus : — 

II II 11^ 

■ r* -I I hi ^ . i I ^| h I i hi &c. 

And so the Antispast, with its 2 beats to every three 


notes, is plainly in a time. 

But if we attempt to beat those other compound feet, 

1 Maiius Victorinus. 2497. Et per monopodiam quidem sola dactylica. 

2 I must premise that this Antispast beating has nothing to do with the 
accent, and is merely illustrative here. - - - - 



f * • • • , and * • «> * , compounded of 


Spondee and Pyrrhic, in the same manner that we have 
beaten our Antispast, we shall not be able to do so, for 
when we arrive at our second beat, the voice is engaged 
in holding a note, and does not come down on a new 
note along with our beat : — 

I I 

\ \ > >\ 
« « « « I 



J- J' J J I 
So it is plain we cannot beat them with 2 beats as 
we beat our Antispast, but we must beat them with 3 
beats instead, and then the voice will come down on a 
new note each time with our beat thus : — 

III III ! i J 


I I I I 111 11' 

But a bar with 3 beats in it is not in - time, but in 


^ time. So that we must say that these compound 
feet, that are compounded of Spondee and Pyrrhic, are in 

a 3 

^ time, and this is indeed double of 3 ' time, but in a 

different manner. But that foot, _ w vj _, compounded 
not of Iambus and Trochee, but of Trochee and Iambus, 
to what category must we refer it, for plainly we might 

beat it either way, either J J^^J > ^^ J J^J5J> 

■fv ■R 

either in 2 time or in ^ time, and we are at a loss 

on which to decide. But in this case we must accept 


the traditions of the Greek Theorists as our guide, 
who reckoned it in the same category with the 
Spondee-Pyrrhic feet, and not with the Antispast, and 
we will beat this foot, _w\-/_, accordingly by three 

beats, and say it is in ^ time. 

And now we must give the names of these new feet. 

And the feet in ^ time were called by the general 

name, Bacchiuses,^ because they were chiefly used, and 

perhaps originally, in the hymns dances to Bacchus ; 

and justly too, for _± time is ev the time of revelry 

and love, and Bacchus was the god of both. And the 

compound foot in S time, \j \j, was called the 

Antispast, because she had torn the bars asunder to 

make it. And the other feet in ^ time we already 

know as Ditrochees and Diiambuses. And these feet 
we have arranged in their Times by means of our 
beating. And the Greek beating we have not used to 
determine them by, although it would have given the 
same results, for it presents a slight variation from 
our method of beating, which we should not have 
been accustomed to. For the Greek beating was more 

vivacious than ours, and in ^ time, for instance, there 

were two beats, one to each note, where we only beat 
one for both,^ and of these two, one was a heavy 
beat and the other was a light beat, and the heavy 
beat was called the Arsis, and the light one the 

Thesis. And in ^ time there were likewise two beats, 

where we also only beat one, the heavy beat, or Arsis, 
falling on the first note, and the light beat, or Thesis, 

1 See the handbooks passim for this designation, of these feet. 

2 Westphal's Antike Rhythmik. p. no. 


falling on the 2nd note, or if it were 2 shorts, as in a 
dactyl, falling on the first of the shorts, but including 
the other at the same time in the limit of the beat. 
And this vivacity of beating, as will be seen, is much 
nearer to the vivacity of the dancers' feet than ours 
is, for in the dance each note had its step. And the 
names. Arsis and Thesis, are a reminiscence of this 
primitive source of all feet, for Arsis means " lifting 
up," and Thesis means " stamping down," although by a 
curious inversion of the original terms by the Latin 
metricians, which we have since adopted. Arsis has 
come to mean the heavy accent, and Thesis the light, 
which originally meant exactly the opposite.^ 

But the ^ time the Greeks beat exactly as we do, 

that is, with three beats in the bar, one heavy beat 
and two light beats — one Arsis and two Theses.^ 

And now let us examine how the Arsis and Thesis 

fell in the feet with which we are already acquainted. 


And the Arsis or Emphasis in ^ time fell always on 

the first note of the bar, _ w w 

And so it did 

in Common Time, ~| ""i . But in ^ time it fell some- 
times on the ist note and sometimes on the 2nd note, 

for in the Trochee, _ w, it fell on the ist note, but in 

Thesis Arsis 
the Iambus, w_, it fell on the 2nd note, , . 


And yet was the first or unaccented note not placed 

I The time was beaten either by the hand or foot. ' Pollicis sonore vel 
plausu pedis.' Terentius Maurus. 2254. cf. also Aristotle's Problems. XIX. 
22, 6i Aristoxenus' Fragments. 99. 


outside the bar, as we place it, but remained in the bar, 
although it did not receive the accent, and where we 
should write an Iambic line, J^l J J^l J ^| &c., 
the Greeks wrote it, J^ J \ ^ J \ J^ J | .^ And in 

the Diiambus, or - time, the Arsis followed the lines 

of the simple Iambus bar, for it fell on the 2nd of 

the couple now, instead of on the 2nd of the single 

notes, thus, 

h "^ '' I J" i 

c* ■■■■> <y '.J \ o ^ c? ^ \ 

falling particularly on the last note of the 4, 

And in the Ditrochee this was inverted. 

Arsis. Thesis. A rsis. Thesis. ^ Arsis. T iiesis. 

I hi Ml !" '1 M I > '1 '^l 

and the main accent fell on the first of the 4, thus,^ 


And in the - time, the Arsis, as we said, was on 

the first note of the Spondee, and the Thesis on the 
rest of the foot,^ 

Arsis. Thesis. Arsis. 'V- - ' ■. A'-is, Th e-^is. 

n t \- n I" :i , ri i" ~~\ , 

J I h '^ I IP" h I I \- \^\ 

which in the contrary compound foot, J^ * J : J > 
would give a double arsis, since there was no breaking 

1 Infra, p. — 

2 Priscian. 1321. 

3 According to Marius Victorinus, the main accent is commensurate with 
the Arsis— he gives theni a crotchet arsis and the rest thesis, Mar, Vict, 3484. 



up the thesis into two separated portions, but in theory 
at least the arsis was double : — 

Thesis. Arsis. Thesis . Ar sis. Th-j_ A-sis. 

In t*he latter case, however, no less than the former, 
there was only one main accent, which fell on the 
first note of the Spondee : — 

'{ I •>. M J I p« >1 J J > >| 

& & ^ & \ & ^ €f & \ ^ ^ & ^ \ 

N ^ ' > ■ I N S ' I ; I 1^ 1^ ' I I 

sj & ^ \ 9 & & iy \ & & iJ I 

And in that other variety of - time, which was 


compounded of Trochee and Iambus in the order 
named, that is, _ww_, the same principle held 
good, and the main accent fell on the first note of 
the bar, thus : — 

'1 h h I I 'l- h i^ I I I h h J I 

tf ^ & \ & (J ^ & \ & & & \ 

and was therefore, as in the first of the Spondee- 
Pyrrhic feet, commensurate with the Arsis, 

Arsis. Thesis. Arsi>. The si s. Ar^is. Thesis. 

n I \ n I 1 r i ^ 

I 1^ t^ J I I 1^ > I I I j^ ' ' I 1 
000 \ & & \ & \ 

And now there yet remains the Antispast to consider. 
And its main accent was on the second crotchet, 
thus : 

N J '1 hi h I '1 ^i -^ i '1 hi 

00 \ \ \ 

and its Arsis comprised the Trochee of it, and its 
Thesis the Iambus, 

Thesis . Arsis. Th esis . Arsis. Thes is. Arsis. 
\ \ €f \ 

And it was beaten like the Diiambus and the 
Ditrochee, with two beats in the bar, the light beat 


for j^ J , and the heavy beat for J > , as we have 
said. And now various other descriptions of time 
were making their way into Greek Music, and new 
feet such as had never been heard of before. And 
the metrical feet we have been here considering, 
Dactyls, Spondees, Iambuses, Trochees, Ditrochees, 
Diiambuses, Antispasts, &c., were augmented by feet 
which would reduce themselves under none of their 
timings. And first there was the Paeon — but I will 
cease to talk in the language of theory, for I must 
see them all live before me, and. I will go to the 
places where the youths and maidens are dancing, 
and I will see the feet spring up, like violets beneath 
their tread. 

And it is to Crete we must go if we would see 
the dancers, for already in Homer's time the Cretans 
were the dancers of the world.^ And let us see the 
Cretans dancing in Homer's time. And youths and 
maidens danced in a ring, their hands on each 
other's wrists. And the maidens had beautiful garlands 
of flowers in their hair, and the youths had golden 
daggers flapping at their sides, hanging from silver 
belts. And they ran lightly round and round in a 
ring, like a potter makes his wheel spin round.^ 

^ cf. lb. XIV. 617. Mrjptovrj, rd\a kIv cte koi bQxy}(TTr]v 
TTEp lovTa i.'y\oq ifiov, &C., "good dancer though you be." Cf. 
Lucian's remarks about the Cretans in his De Saltatione. 
^ £vBa fxtv riiBeoi koi irapOivoi aX^tci^OLaL 
wp^Euvr' ciXXr]\h}v lirX KapTTto -^^UQaq e^ovtec- 
rwvS' al fxlv Xewrag odovag e'x*^^' ^' ^^ xiTU)vag 
eLar Ivvvrirovg rjKa aTiX^ovrag iXaiu) ' 
Kai p al fx\v KoXag an^tpdvag ^X'^^^ ^^ ^^ {xaxo-iQcig 
uxov ;!(;pV(T£tac £s apyvpewv reXa/xwvwv. 
01 O OTi. fXiV B'pt^aKov iTTiaTajxivoKJi TTOCiaai 
peXa /udX, wg ore rig rpoxov ap/xevev ev TraXajutjaiv 
1^6/xivoi Kepafitiig irHpiiaiTai al k£ ^itjaiv., &c. II. XVIII. 


And we may see them dancing by this simile. For 
a potter's wheel was a round flat thing, like the top 
of a round table, and he turned it rapidly round and 
round with one hand, while the other was engaged 
in fashioning the lump of clay that lay on the top. 
And this is the way they danced. And first they 
would dance round and round from right to left, 
and then the other way, from left to right. And 
dancing round from right to left, this was called the 
Turn (^<TTpo(j)i)), and the other way, from left to right, 
the Counter-turn (avTi(TTpo(pri). And the dance itself was 
called the x^P^^' ^^ ^^^ " Round," because they went 
round and round in it like a wheel. And this dance 
Theseus brought from Crete to Athens, for when he 
had slain the Minotaur, he brought back the Athenian 
youths and maidens who were captive there, and 
they danced this Cretan dance in the island of Delos, 
and afterwards at Athens. And what was the step in 
this ancient dance, for this nearly concerns us ? And 
it was called the x^pnog, or the " Dancing step," for 
XOjOoc, or " the Round," soon got to be the general 
name for all dancing, so popular was this ancient 
Cretan dance. And the x'^p^'iog (Choreius) was a long 
step followed by a short one, what we have in former 
pages called the Skip, _w, being the same foot 
which was afterwards known as a Trochee, by which 
name we have hitherto called it. 

And they danced this dance, then, holding one 
another by the wrist. But there grew up more 
complicated forms of it, as indeed those Athenian 
youths and maidens danced a more complicated form 
of it, for they imitated in their dance the mazes of 



the Labyrinth.;^ And they no longer held each other 
by the wrist, but ran following each other, first a 
youth, then a girl, in and out, and under hands, 
running in and out like the mazes of the Labyrinth.^ 
And here perhaps the name. Trochee, might have come 
in, for Trochee (rpexw) means " the running step." 

And of an opposite step to this was the Leaping 
Dance (^piaiut>og. triumphus, or Iambus), for it was first 
a short step and then a long, w_. And this was the 
great step in the Bacchic dances, and more particularly 
when the Leap was combined with the ordinary Dancing 
step (Choreius), thus, _ww_, in which form it was 
called the ' Double Leap,' Dilhriambus (dLdpiaju^oo), or 
the ' Dancing Leap,' Choriambus (xopta^€oc), or more 
generally, the ' Bacchic step,' Baccheius (jSa/cxaoc). And 
it is probable that the form of this Leaping Dance was 
the same simple form as that of the Round Dance, 
round and round, first from Right to Left and then from 
left to right, only when it was danced in honour of 
Bacchus, it was danced round a blazing altar in the 

middle. And those other two Bacchic steps, '^ ^j 

and \j \j , would also be used in this Leaping 

Dance, but not so commonly as the Leap or the 
Double Leap (3'pta/ij3oc and SidpiafifioQ). 

And there were other forms of dances that the 
Cretans used, besides these comimon round dances ; 
for sometimes the dancers would break into two 
ranks,3 girls on one side, youths on the other, and 

^ /xifi-nfjia Twv Iv Tio AajivpivBii) ^ieE,6Bwv Koi TrepioBwv £v 
Tivi pvdfxi^ TrepieXi^HQ koi aveXi^eig f'xovrt. Plutarch's 
Theseus. 2i. 

2 It is usual to confound this dance with Lucian's Hormus. I think 
Meiirsius set the example, which is here followed. Nevertheless if my 
memory serves me, Lucian mentions the yipavog as a distinct dance 

3 aAXore §' av Ope^aaKOv etti aTi)(ag aXXriXoKTi 


advance and retreat, much in the style of our country 
dances to-day. And of this style of Dance would 
be the Flower Dance/ for here there is plain intimation 
of two separate parties in the dance, and one side 

TTov /HOI TO, po^d ; TTov fioi TO, to ; 
TTOv fioi rd KaXd aiXiva ; 
and the other side answered them, 

raSi rd podd, raSi rd \a, 
raSi rd KoXd criXiva. 

Where are my roses ? A nd where are my violets ? 

And where is my beaiitifid parsley too? 
Here are your roses, and here are your violets^ 

And here is your beautifid parsley too.^ 
So that we see two rows of dancers before us, singing 
and answering one another as they danced. -V And 
then there was a dance, called " Forfeits,"^ and 
another dance, " Here's a message for somebody ,"4 and 
another, " Hands forward ";5 and it should seem that 
the last at any rate was a two - lined dance, for we 
may see the dancers dancing up in two sides so as 
almost to meet, and challenging one another with 
their hands. And we shall not do wrong to refer 
the "Challenging foot" to this dance, \j\j\j\j, or 
Proceleusmatic. But those two other dances, the 
Forfeit Dance (xp^wv airoKOTrr]), and the Message Dance 
{ayyiXiKy]), seem rather to belong to the Round Dances, 
for their names at any rate would point to a similarity 
with our village dances, and perhaps they were like 
our " Kiss in the ring," for it was a common thing 

1 The "AvQifia. 

2 Athenaeus. 630. 

\Qi.C}V airoKOTTri. " Pay your debts," we might translate it more 

4 The dyyeXiKTi. 

^ ^Eip KaraTrprjvrjc* It will be obvious that the dances are here only 
popularly described. 


to have single dancers in the centre, and the rest 
moving in a ring round them.^ And we may also 
admire how the simple xopog, as Homer describes it, 
resembled the Jing-ger-ring of our children to-day, 
for boys and girls holding one another by the hands 
still dance those simple Ring dances, which the youths 
and maidens did in ancient Crete. 

And the Dactyl dance,^ which gave us our Dactyl, 
was also a Round Dance, for the tradition is that it 
was first danced in Crete by the Corybantes, as they 
went circling round the infant Zeus. And the Strobilos, 
or Windlass Dance,^ it should seem was a developed 
form of the primitive round dance, not unlike the 
dance that Theseus led in Delos, or perhaps it was 
the same, being likewise called the Geranus, or Crane 
Dance, because the garments of the dancers flew out 
as they followed each other, like the wings of cranes 
flap and fly when they run. And a round dance also 
was the Pyrrhic, or " Flushed Dance " {irvppixn),'^ which 
gives us the Pyrrhic foot, w w, and it must have 
been a violent dance, as its name implies. And so 
must the Thermaustris, or " Heated Dance," have 
been, and this too was most probably round. ^ For 
it should seem that the Round dances were the more 
violent ones, in contrast to the Line Dances, which 
were of a quieter and graver order. 

1 Burette's De la danse des Anciens, in the Histoire de rAcademie des 
Inscriptions. I. Also Soiw St ku€ torijrijpE k^ivevov kutu 
/uLeaaovg though this is scarcely so apropos. 

2 Ath. 629. 3 Id. 630. 

4 Deriving it from TTvppog which in Doric is 7rvppi->^og. Cf. The 
Hygra, or "Sweating Dance." 

5 I am obviously alluding to the most primitive forms of these two dances, 
which we may perhaps conceive to have been round. Indeed if yopog is 
any clue we must imagine all the Greek dances to have been originally round. 
See Liddell and Scott on ^opbg- That this form afterwards changed in the 
^wo we are spealdng of, we know, 


And now we have seen these feet grow up from 
the dance, the Choree, or Trochee, _w, the Iambus, 
w_, the Dithriambus, or Choree Iambus, _^wv-/_, 
the Proceleusmatic, \j \j \j \j, the other Bacchic feet 

besides the Dithriambus, viz. ww and ww , 

the Pyrrhic, \j\j, the Dactyl, _ww, and to 
these we may add a variety of the Choree, www, 
the Tribrach, and a variety of the Dactyl, w_w, 
the Amphibrach. And all these feet we have seen grow 
up in Crete. But what is the Cretic foot par excell- 
ence^ that shall stand out amid this galaxy of feet, 
as Betelgeuse in the constellation of Orion ? And it 
was also called Tratwv or the " Striking foot ", because 
it differed from the Dactyl in this, that the last step 
was struck almost as heavily as the first, and dwelt 
on as long, and it differed from the Dactyl like our 
Varsoviana does from the Waltz, only with us the 
dwelling is at the end of each figure, but there it 
was at the end of each foot. And this is the foot 
which was called par excelleiice the Cretic foot: _w^, 
or to mark it in notes, j J^ J I- And it speaks 
of dainty treading and delicate keeping of time, for 
it is in ^ time, which is a time hard to hit. And 
let us take an example of it from Greek music, and 
dancers singing as they danced in this beautiful 
measure would sing their song like this : 

5 J 

1 Iw ' 

J J- J 

-J J^J 

J J-J 

_ W 


_ w _ 

_ w _ 

fxa-Tsp w 

TTOT-vi-a, kXv-9i VVfX - 

0av a-[5pdv, 



5/ f A ' 

r]-pav a-AL 

MV flV-)(0)V. 

And there were many varieties of this foot, and 
there were 6 varieties in all, differing much in character, 
but all alike in ^ time. And these were the 6 
varieties : 

tgS iiistoRV OF MusiC. 

(I). J J^ J (2). J jS J^ jS (3). JS J JS J 

N S 
_ w w \-/ 

(4). ;« j'^ j j'- (5). J' J' j^ j (6). j'- J^ J^ J- J^ 

\J \J \J \J \J \J KJ \J KJ KJ \J 

And the first, _w_, was the pattern after which they 
all were shaped, and it was known preeminently as 
the Cretic Foot, but the others generally as Paeons, 
And from these feet does the Hymn to Apollo take 
its name, which first was heard in Crete, and is called 
the Paeon, or Paean, because the singers as they sang 
it danced in the Cretic step.^ And Apollo himself is 
said to have led them, jxaKpa (difiag, and striking his lyre 
as he led ihe dances. And let us imagine the beautiful 
Apollo leading the dances. And his hair was wreathed 
with leaves, and twined with threads of gold ; and 
his arrows rattled on his shoulders. And now we 
shall cease to wonder at that expression of Simonides, 
for he says that the Dance is dumb Music, and Music 
is speaking Dancing. And the poses of the Greek 
dancers were glorious to look upon. For that Coan 
boy in Athenaeus, ' and Cos is an island that breeds 
gods, there was such grace in all his movements, and 
such was the melody of his motions, that we could never 
gaze our fill on him. And when he turned his bright 
face on us, we dare not tarry longer, for fear some 
harm might happen to us with over-wonder.' Or the 
Phseacian dancers, and Odysseus gazing at their 
twinkling feet. Or the fair-tressed Graces and the 
Hours, Harmonia, and Hebe, and Aphrodite dancing 

1 Cf. those fragments of ancient Paeans in Aritotles, 

1. ;^pi»o-£0(co/ua "EKore iral Aiog. 

2. AaXoysvsg, hts AvKiav. 

I imagine all ancient paeons, or the CreUm at least, employed this foot 

tHE GREEltS. 199 

together, their hands on each other's wrists. Or the 
white feet of Grecian boys in those dances of Stesi- 
chorus. Or the lovely poses of the Ball Dance. For 
Nausicaa in the Ball Dance was like Artemis herself, as 
she treads the heights of Taygetus, the Arrow Queen, 
stalking the boars and the swift-footed stags. And 
sometimes they would throw the ball from one to the 
other at short distances, and then they must use their 
hands alone. But at longer distances they might use 
their arms to fling it with, standing easily but firmly 
in one spot, and arching their bodies in a thousand 
graceful flexions to catch the bouncing ball. And 
what must it have been to see the Dorian girls at 
play ! For their dress only reached to their knee, and 
their white arms were bare as high as the shoulder, 
and the dress was fastened at the shoulder with . golden 
studs. And sometimes they would play it in two 
bands, and throw the ball swiftly from side to side, and 
all in time and using dancing steps, for a musician 
was there accompanying them with the Lyre, and 
they sang and danced to his music.^ And even the 
masters of the ball play, such as Phaeacia produced, 
must needs make music of their game. For those two 
who played with a purple ball, whom Odysseus saw, 
and one bent back and flung the ball so high, that it 
was almost lost to sight, and the other sprang up and 
caught it as it was descending, and he caught it with 
his feet off the ground, and then they changed and 
played the common game, and flung the ball like 
lightning to one another, so that it made men dizzy 
to look on them — and all the while Demodocus was 

I See Burette's charming Memoire sur la Spheristique des Anciens, in the 
Histoire de 1' J^ cademie des Inscriptions, I. 


playing, and they were treading a measure to his 
song. And other varieties of the Ball dance we 
might mention, for there was the dance with the 
large ball, which was an empty one, for all these 
were small balls that we have been speaking of, 
and they were made of scarlet or purple leather, 
and filled in the inside with flour, or feathers, or 
grass, or wool, or fig-seeds, or sand. And the 
perfection of the dancing was when all parts of the 
body moved in consummate symmetry, with never a 
discord to jar on our sight. For Rhythm has its 
harmony no less than Melody has ; and here it is 
before us. " For," says Aristides, " we must not fancy 
that rhythm is a thing which concerns the ear alone, 
for in the dance it is made manifest to the sight."^ 
And indeed even a statue has its rhythm, but then 
it is a dumb or silent rhythm.^ And the poses of 
the dancers would give this rhythm. And the writer 
has often thought, that that Greek dance which was 
called, " The Graces," would turn on giving this silent 
rhythm alone. For it would be danced perhaps by 
three girls, as its name implies, and would consist solely 
of beautiful poses. 

And now then we have given the principal Cretan 
dances, and we must go on to give the other dances 
that were used in Greece. And there were the 
Laconian,3 the Troezenian,4 the Epizephyrian,^ the 
Ionian,^ the Mantinean,7 the Phrygian,^ and the 

1 In a similar spirit Music is defined as teyvt] tov irpiwovTog ev 
(fxxjvmg KoX Kivf](n(nv. Aristides, 6. 

2 Pictures were spoken of in the same way as ' musical ' and ' unmusical.' 
Cf. Sext. Emp. adv. Math., VI. 

3 Meursius' Orchestra. 4 lb. 5 lb. 

6 Athenseus, 630. 

7 Meursius. 8 Athenoeus, 629. 


Molossian dances.^ And the step of the Cretan 
Dances was _w_, or _www, and in striking 
contrast to this was the step of the Molossian dances, 

which consisted of three long steps, And the 

great step of the Laconian dances was the Dactyl, 
_ww, and still more favourite, the Back Dactyl, or 
Backwards-struck Dactyl (avuTraiaTog), ww_, and this 
Back Dactyl, 'or Anapaest, as it was called, was also 
the chief step in the Locrian, or Epizephyrian dances,^ 
And the Ionian dancers used much those two Bacchic 
feet, compounded of the Spondee and the Pyrrhic, 

\j \j and WW , which now began to be called 

the Ionic feet in consequence. And now two new 
varieties of the Cretan step were invented in the 

dances, and they were these, w , and w. 

And then there was the Dochmius, or "sidling" step, 

w ^— , and this may perhaps have come from the 

Bending Dance (oK:Aao-//a)3. And lastly there was a 
new and mighty foot appeared in the Dorian Dances, 
destined to breed fine rhythms in future song, the glory 
of the Dorians, the Dorian Epitrite. And it was first 
a long step, and then a short one, and then two long 
ones, _w And its time was different from that of 

all the other feet, for it is in ^ time — ^ * • •' 

And this Epitrite had four varieties, but only two were 
commonly used ; and this was the next commonest 

after the one we have given : w And the 2 

other varieties were \j , and w. And these 

were called the ist, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Epitrite, according 
to the position of the short step in them, and the short 




1 lb. I imagine there is a similar list in Julius Pollux. 

2 Cf. the remarks on the Locrian Rhythm, infra, p. — . 

3 Aristophanes' Fragments, 321. 

502 HistokV ot" Music. 

step falling in the ist place, \j , it was the ist 

Epitrite ; and in the 2nd, _w , the 2nd Epitrite ; 

w_, the 3rd Epitrite; and w, the 4th 

Epitrite. But the 2nd was the original and leading 
Epitrite, and this was the one that was called par 
excellence the Dorian. 

Now then these feet having sprung up in the dances 
in various parts of Greece, and each independently of 
the other, were in course of time collected by the 
assiduity of theorists, who strove to systematise them, 
and bring out their relations and resemblances to each 
other. Nor was the task so hard as at first sight it 
may appear. For first, there is this remarkable principle 
of uniformity pervading them, that they all admit of 
being expressed by various collocations of the two signs, 
_, and w, which is but saying that in all these 
thousand dances there were but two steps used, a long 
step and a short one, or in other words, that each step 
was either equal to its fellow or double of it, for the 
long was double of the short. And now we may for a 
moment admire, before proceeding to the givings out of 
the theorists, what lustre of rhythm this must have 
imparted to the motion of the dancers. For in what- 
ever fancy patterns the steps were thrown, there would 
still be the most perfect equality and evenness in the 
tread. And in a troop of dancers, the perspective of 
general sway, or line of rise and fall, must have been 
like the swell of the open sea, where no petty wave 
comes to break the regularity of the heaving. For 
short mincing steps, as we see, were unknown. Hence, 
then, arose the first grand law of Greek Musical 
Theory, that each note in the music, in like manner, 
must be either equal to its fellow or double of it. 
And this principle, developed in the first instance in 
the dance, pervaded all the music, even where no dance 

THE GkEEKS. 203 

accompanied the song. And this was the way in 
which the principle was couched in the books of the 
theorists : " Every note must stand to its neighbour 
iv Xoydf) icrio (" in equal ratio "), or tv X6y(i> ^nrXacrit^ (" in 
double ratio"), that is, in the ratio of 1:1, 
(\6yog 'liTog), or in the ratio of 2 : i or 1:2 (\6yog 
^iTrXaaiog)." And now observe the same principle 
applied to the bars. For if a step in dancing answers 
to a note in music, then a foot or a measure, that is, 
a set of steps, in dancing, will answer to a bar, that 
is, a set of notes, in music. And having gained this 
principle of ruling, in the notes, they proceeded to 
determine the legitimacy of the bars next by its 
means. So they picked out of those feet that we 
have given the ones where the arsis stood to the 
thesis, first in an equal ratio (i : i), and secondly 
where it stood in a double ratio (2:1 or i : 2). And 
they found that it stood in an equal ratio in the 
followinsf feet : 



The Dactyl 


\J \J 



The Spondee 





The Pyrrhic 





The Proceleusmatic w w 

w w 



The Anapaest 

\J \J 


So then these feet were all grouped in one class, and 
were pronounced to lie ev Xoyaj 'ictm And since the 
Dactyl is the type of the rest, the general name of 
Dactylic Feet was given to them, because they all 
observed the same ratio which the Dactyl did. And 
let us represent the Dactylic feet as Musical Bars, 

I Aristoxenus however does not admit the Pyrrhic into his system. Vid. 
Aristox. Rhythm. Fragm. 302. 

204 HiSTOkY OF Music. 

and we will call them Dactylic Bars, and the 
following bars will be the Dactylie bars : — 

Arsis. Thesis. 

Dactylic (Proper) j ' ' > , i 

Arsis. Thesis. 

Spondaic j i 

Arsis. Thesis. 

n n 

Pyrrhic — '- J^ — -J^ j 

Arsis. Thesis. 

Proceleusmatic —J^ J ^ J^ J^ 

Thesis. Arsis. 

Anapaestic n^ i^ i 1 

And next they picked out those feet where the 
arsis stood in a double ratio to the Thesis {Iv Xoy(i) 
StTrXao-iw) 2 : I or I : 2. And they found that the 
following feet observed the double ratio : 

Thesis. Arsis. 

The Iambus \j \ _ 

Arsis. Thesis. 

The Trochee, or 

Choreius _ | w 

Arsis. Thesis. Thesis. Arsis. 

The Tribrach v-/vy| \j or \j \ \j \j 

Arsis. Thesis. 

The Molossus _ | 

! Arsis. Thesis. 

The Choriambus... _ ] ww_ 

Arsis. Thesis. 
The 1st Ionic, or 

Ionic a majore _ | _ w w 

Thesis. Arsis. 
The 2nd Ionic, or 

Ionic a minore w w I 



which we may show in this way : for let \j = i , 
then the Iambus is 1:2, the Trochee, 2:1, the Tribrach 
also 2:1, the Molossus, 2 : 4, the Choriambus, 2 ; 4, 
the Ionic a maj'ore, 2 : 4, the Ionic a minore, 2 : 4, 
all therefore observing the same relation, viz., 2:1, 
or 1:2. And these feet were in like manner thrown 
in one class, and were pronounced to lie ev Xoyio 
8t7rXa(T((o, or in a double ratio. And since the Iambus 
is a type of the rest, the general name of Iambic 
Feet was given to them all, because they all observed 
the same ratio in their arsis aud thesis which the 
Iambus did. And let us represent these Iambic feet 
as Musical Bars, and we will call them Iambic Bars, 
and the Iambic Bars will be the following : — 
Thesis. Arsis. 






n n 

Ionic a minore 


J _ 








s s ^ 

■ ■ d S 





', ,' 


m m 








1 s's 

. S m mm' 




. 4 ^. 

9 9 



S ! 



But further acquaintance with the feet of the dances 
showed the theorists that there were some feet which 
would by no means be reduced into either of these two 
classes ; for there was the Paeon, or Cretan foot, _ w_' 
which will not admit of either the Iambic or the 
Dactylic Diaeresis, for although the individual steps 
that composed it observed the orthodox relation, that 
every step must be equal or double of its fellow, yet 
the entire foot does not observe this relation in the 
relation of its arsis to its thesis, for the arsis of the 
Paeon is —yj, and its thesis is _, and so taking w 
as = I, the Arsis of the Paeon is related to its 
Thesis neither as i : i or 2 ; i, but as 3:2. They 
were constrained therefore to create a new Ratio for 
that class of feet of which the Paeon is a type, and 
to legitimise the ratio of 3 ; 2 accordingly. And this 
new Ratio, which was the third and last principal 
Ratio of the feet, was called the Xoyog rifxioXiog, or 
the Ratio of one and a half^ And the following feet 
were pronounced to lie in the One and a Half 
Ratio, £v Xoyti* rifuoXico : 

Arsis. Thesis. 

The Paeon, or Cretic _ w | _ 

Arsis. Thesis. 

The 1st Paeon _ | w w w 

Arsis. Thesis. 

The 2nd Paeon w _ | w w 

Thesis. Arsis. 

The 3rd Paeon w w I _ w 

^ Twv Of TToSwv rwv Koi (TVV£-)(ri pvOjuOTTOuav dsxofievwv 
rpia jtvri tcTTl, to re caKTvXiKOv Koi to lafj.^iKOv Kai to 
iraKoviKOV. AaKTvXiKOv /ntv ovv IcttI to Iv 'icrto Xojto, 
la/xkiKOv cl TO £v cnrXaaitt), TraiivviKov ce to ev t<^ rf/uioXiM. 
Aristoxenus. p. 302. cf. Aristotle's Problems. XIX. 39. 



The 4th Pseon www 




The Resolved Paeon www 

w w 


The New Bacchius w _ 


The Prosodiac ._ 



And it will be seen that these feet all observe the 
One and a Half Ratio, that is, either 3 : 2, or 2 : 3. 
For the ratio of the Great Paeon is 3 : 2, of the ist 
Paeon, 2:3, of the 2nd Pseon, 3 : 2, the 3rd Paeon, 2 : 
3, the 4th Paeon, 3 : 2, the Resolved Paeon, 3 : 2, 
the New Bacchius, for this old name was afterwards 
extended to this foot, 3 : 2, the Prosodiac, 2 : 3. And 
since the Paeon was the type of the rest, the general name 
of Paeonic Feet was given to them, because they all 
observed the same ratio which the Great Paeon did. 
And let us represent these Paeonic feet as Musical 
Bars, , and we will call them Paeonic Bars, and the 
Paeonic Bars will be the following : — 

Great Paeonic or Cretic 

1st Paeonic 

Arsis. Thesis. 

2nd Paeonic 
3rd Paeonic 
4th Paeonic 

'■J ^^i- 


m m 



i,l 1 

^ j^ J 


S * 

m m 


'■^ 1 


1 L ' 

« ^ 

s s. 



1 1 

^ a^ 

d t 





'> J^ 

1 1 J 

■^:4.. M.„ 

^ - • 



Resolved Pseonic 

New Bacchiac 




1 [ 

10 S 9 

nt a 









^ S 

Jt.: ■ 


And in this way were the Three Great Orders of Bars 
created in Greek Music, the DactyHc, the Iambic, and 
the Paeonic, which observed the relations respectively of 
I : I, 2 : I, 3 : 2.1 

And now but one set of feet remain to be accounted 
for, and these are the Epitrites. And these will not 
admit any of the above diaereses, although the indi- 
vidual steps that composed them were studiously in 
keeping with the law of the steps. Yet the entire 
feet would not admit any of the 3 diaereses, so 
a separate class had to be created for them, which 
however always remained a subordinate class in Greek 
theory, nor was taken into account in general speak- 
ing. And the relation of the Arsis and Thesis in 
this class was said to stand Iv Xoyo) £7rtrpiro>, " in the 
ratio of 3 : 4," and the ratios of the 4 Epitrites were 
as follows : 

Thesis. Arsis. 

1st Epitrite ^— I 

Thesis. Arsis. 
2nd (Dorian) Epitrite — w | 

3rd Epitrite 
4th Epitrite 

Arsis. Thesis. 
__| w_ 
Arsis. Thesis. 

3 -4 

3 -A 

4 : 3 

^ 4:3 

^ TMV St rpiCjv yevu)v 01 Trpwot tto^tsq hv rolg I^^C 
apiOfioig TeOf]aovTai, 6 fitv laju^iKog ev toiq TpKri irpturoff, 6 
de daKTvXiiibg Iv roXg Tirpacn, 6 ot wctiioviKog Iv TOig irivre. 


And there was a Resolved Epitrite admitting of either 

Thesis. Arsis, 

\j \j \j \ \j \j "u \j 3-4 

Arsis. Thesis. 

wwww| www 4-3 

So then we have now 3 great Orders of Feet, 

I. The Dactylic Xoyog 'laog i : i 

II. The Iambic \6yog ^iirXdaiog I : 2 

III. The Paeonic \6yog 17/xtoXtoc 2 : 3 

with the subordinate order, 

iv. The Epitrite \6yog eTrirpiTog 3 : 4 
and this is the way the feet have been classified. 
And now what are the times of these 4 orders? 

And it is plain that the Dactylic feet are all in ^ 

time. But the Iambic feet, which include the Iambus, 
the Trochee, the Molossus, and the Bacchiuses, are 

3 • 3 

some in - time and some in time, for the Bacchiuses 

8 4 

and the Molossus are in - time. And the Paeonic feet 


are in ^ time. And the Epitrite feet are in Y time. 

And now to which of the orders shall we refer those 

compound feet in - time, which we spoke of some time 

ago, the Antispast, the Diiambus, and the Ditrochee, 

for these are often omitted from the books of the 

theorists, because, as we saw, they grew into feet from 

the Rhythmic Phrases of the singers, rather than 

started up beneath the pattering of the dance ? And 

it is plain that we must treat them as the other feet 

have been treated, and ask what diaeresis do they 

admit of, or what is the ratio of their arsis to their 

thesis. And the Aris and Thesis of the Antispast 



Thesis. Arsis. 

being \^ ^ , and of the Ditrochee and Diiambus 

Arsis. Thesis. Thesis. Arsis. 

' ' ' and ' ^ respectively, it is plain 

that they are each of them in equal diaeresis, and 
taking w as = i, their Arsis is related to their thesis 
as 3:3, that is, as i : i, hv Xoyto iaco, and so we must 
refer them to the Dactyl order of feet. Which is 
indeed the way that Aristoxenus treats them. For he 
being a great master of Rhythm, and perhaps some- 
what slighting Metre, and Rhythm is to Metre what 
Phrasing is to Barring, always treats these feet to 
the last as Phrases, although long before his time 
they had grown into actual bars. And he says that 
these Phrases of 2 Iambuses, or 2 Trochees, or an 
Iambus and a Trochee, which is the Antispast, belong 
to the Dactylic order of Phrases, because their Arsis 
is to their Thesis as i : i. And he has made a 
beautiful extension of the system that we have here 
sketched, and applied it to Phrases, as we have here 
spoken of it in its application to bars, being indeed 
the master mind of Greek Music, who was the author 
and formulator of all this science. And he says 
that the legitimacy of Phrases must be determined in 
precisely the same way as the legitimacy of the Bar, 
that is, by the application of the \6yoi, but then he 
will only admit the three chief \6yoi, as valid in the 
Phrases, for he says that notes ev Xoyai iTriTpirM, 3 : 4, 
can only be treated as a metrical foot, and are of 
no account in the Science of Phrasing, since two 
Epitrites can never be knit together, but each must 
stand distinct, and Phrasing is a knitting together 
of bars. M 

And now then we are to see what bars may be 
knit together in Phrases, and why they may be so 


thp: greeks. 


And as the two notes 

would be utterly- 

inadmissible as a bar, because they are in the ratio 
of 3:1, which is none of the ratios, nor more would 

the two bars 





that is, an 

Ionic a majore and a Pyrrhic bar, be ever admissible 
as a Phrase, because they also observe the same 
illegitimate ratio to eaeh other, for taking w as i, 
the Ionic stands to the Pyrrhic in the ratio of 6:2, 
that is, 3:1, which is the same forbidden ratio. 
What conjunction of 8 notes then are allowable as a 
Phrase, for with 8 notes our Phrases begin, for we 

4 a- 



have g bars, g bars, ^ (^) bars, — or S bars, §, and 


_ or Y bars. But 8 notes necessarily imply a 


coupling of bars, and therefore with 8 notes begin the 


And first we must ask what diaereses 8 notes admit 
of. And 8 notes admit of the following diaereses : — 

7 + I 

I + 7 

6 + 2 

3 + 5 








1 ! 

. at 


m a 




" \ \ r 1"^ 

1^ 1^ 

! ! ! ! 


«p ss e» a 

SS9 tSBf 




P — ^i- 

— ^ — id — 

1 1 1^! P- 



1 1^ 


J J 

s s 

^ S e^ 



5 + 3 

4 + 4 




But 7 : I and i : 7 are not eppvO/uoi, because they fall 
under neither of the 3 \6yoi. And 6:2, which is 3:1, 
is not ippvQfxoq either, nor more its opposite, 2 : 6 
(1:3). Nor is 3:5, nor 5:3 eppvdp.og. But 4:4 alone 
is ippvOfiog, for bar stands to bar ev Xojm 'i(T(^ as i : i. 
So two Dactylic bars are the only collocation of 8 
notes that are admissible as a Phrase, and any of the 
Dactylic bars may be used to make the Phrase, as : — 




' ~i^ ~iti 

-0 J \ 




And what collocation of 9 notes are admissible as 
a Phrase ? And 9 admits the following diaereses : 

8 + I 
7 + 2 
6 + 3 

5 + 4 
and of these only the 3rd is legitimate, for 6:3 is 
2:1, that is, the \6-joq dnrXamog. So the only possible 
collocation of notes in a Phrase of 9 notes, is a bar 
of 6 notes followed by a bar of 3 notes, that is, 



1 ^s 1 .<*- 

1 ^V-I 

- ^ -^ -0 :^-7. 

:^ :s 

a Ditrochee 

followed by a Trochee, 

r A 

r" P 


w i^ ^ -9 

! J 


The greeks. 
a Diiambus followed by an Iambus, 


-— V— r — — [ >^ 1 

an Antispast followed by an Iambus or a Trochee, 
and of course an Iambus may follow a Ditrochee in 
like manner, or a Trochee, a Diiambus, ' although we 
have not marked it here : 

3y g '9. 


a Bacchius followed by a Trochee or Iambus. And 
the other Bacchiuses followed by a Trochee or Iambus 
in like manner :— 



i 1 ^ 


^ ^ -^ s 

^ ^ 

- . 


1 — h" — h — ^ — 

[ — ^^* — ^ — 1 

J J J ^ 

^ ^ s & 

s' S 

And of course in all these cases the short bar may 
equally well precede the longer, as 

— ^ — ^ — ^ -^ — li ^ 

&c., in the ratio of 3 : 6, which is the A 070c StTrAao-toc 
inverted, 1:2. 

And these collocations exhaust the list of the possible 
9 note Phrases. 

And what collocation of 10 notes are admissible as 
a Phrase? And 10 admits the following diaereses: — 



9 + I 

8 + 2 

7 + 3 
6 + 4 

5 + 5 
And of these only the last two are IppvdfxoL. And 
6 : 4 is the Xoyoq i^fxioXiog, 3 : 2, and 5 : 5 is the 
\6jog iaog, I : I. So the only possible collocation of 
notes in a Phrase of lo notes is a bar of 6 notes 
followed by a bar of 4 notes, or a bar of 5 notes 
by a bar of 5 notes, that is, a Ditrochee or Diiambus, 
or one of the Baechiuses, followed by a Dactylic bar; 
or two Paeonic bars. And here are the possible 10 
note Phrases : — 


^— =}^: 

zsL ^ 








JtZZM. <g 



And any of the varieties of the Dactylic bars might 
stand in the 2nd place, although we have not thought 
it necessary to write them, as 


~^ — a^ ~ 





F=] — =r =^ — ^*^ 

:=ih =i^=1 

--d--- S a^ ■ d 

-nt—d -d 

h— 1 =1t=l - 


■ -d -gt d d 

d -9 

SiC, and of course the inversion of these with the 
shorter bar first, 4 : 6, which is 2 : 3, will also stand. 
And the 2 Paeonic Bars, which are the other 
possible collocation in the 10 note Phrases, 545, ev 
Xoycj) 'i(T(i), may in the same way be any of the 
Pseons, or the New Bacchius, or the Prosodiac : — 

2 Paeons 



r» 1 

1 1^ 

" ! 1 


d — d 

d ai 





■ -^'^=1 



■ et d^" ^ 

d e» 



■ - :^*^ 

^^. =3 =1^ 


"* " « 



H Pseon and 


2 Prosodiacs 

&c. And these are the possible collocations of notes 
in the 10 note Phrases. 

And what collocation of 1 1 notes are admissible 
as a Phrase ? And 1 1 admits the following diaereses : — 

10 + I 
9 + 2 
8 + 3 
7 + 4 
6 + 5 

But none of these [are in either of the three Aoyot, 
so that no collocation of 1 1 notes is admissible as a 

And what collocation of 12 notes is admissible as 
a Phrase? And 12 admits the following- diaereses: — ■ 



II + I 

lO + 2 

9 + 3 
8 + 4 
7 + 5 

And of these none are admissible but 8 : 4, which is 
the A070C StTrXao-foc (2:1), and 6 : 6 which is the Xoyoc 
\(joq I : I. So that the only possible collocation of 
notes in a Phrase of 12 notes is 8 notes followed by 
4 notes, or 6 notes by 6 notes. But now since there 
is no metrical bar of 8 notes, it is plain that our 8 
notes will be composed of 2 bars, each of 4 notes 
each, and these 2 bars of 4 notes followed by one 
bar of 4 notes — we shall see we are now in the 
province of Triple Phrasing, for there are 3 bars in 
all. But 6 and 6 will still be Double Phrasing, but 
8 and 4 are Triple Phrasing, and with these we are 
concerned first. And these Triple Phrases will be 
composed of three Dactylic bars, of which the first 
and second stand to the third in the relation of 8 : 4, or 
the first to the second and third in the relation of 
4:8, as we prefer. 

And here are the possible 12 note phrases in the 
X070C dnrXamoQ, and in Triple Phrasing : 


with any of the Dactylic varieties, 




A Spondee 

and 2 


^ An Anapaest, a 
— 1^ Spondee and, a 




-f' — h — ^ 


A Proceleus- 

atic, a Sponde 

and an Anapaest 

rqi^zpi -^ matic, a Spondee 


And here are the possible 12 note Phrases in 
the \6yog 'itjog, 6 : 6, and these, on the contrary, are 
Double phrases. And they consist of any 2 bars of 

S time, or of 3 time, or of ^ and ^ mixed, as 2 
Diiambuses, a Diiambus and a Bacchius, 2 Bacchiuses, 

f -y 

1 ^ ^ 1 

\ \ r r 

J J -J J 

S S W ^ 

m ^ tt a 

etc., etc. 

And these are the possible collocations of notes in 
the 12 note Phrases. 

And what collocations of 13 notes are admissible as 
Phrases? And 13 admits of the following diaereses: — 

12 + I 
II + 2 

9 + 4 
8 + 5 

7 + 6 
But none of these fall in the 3 Xoyoi. So that no 
collocation of 13 notes is admissible as a Phrase. 

And what collocations of 14 notes are admissible as 
Phrases? And 14 admits of the' following diaereses: — 



13 + I 
12 + 2 

II + 3 

10 + 4 

9 + 5 
8 + 6 

And of these only 8 + 6 is admissible as a Phrase, 
for we have heard that 2 Epitrites, which would be 
7 + 7, could never be knit together, but each Epitrite 
must stand distinct. So 7 + 7 goes out, and '^ ■\- 6 
alone remains. And 8 : 6 is in the Aoyoe iTrlrpLrog, that 
is, in the ratio of 4 : 3. So that we must have 2 bars of 
4 notes each to make an 8, followed by one bar of 6 
notes; and this Hke the I2 note Phrase will be a 
Triple Phrase. And we may take any of the Dactylic 
bars, and any of the H and ^ bars to form it, as 
follows : — 


^ — ai- 


— S [V— 

8 +6 

which is 2 Dactyls and a Bacchius. Or take 2 Pro- 
celeusmatics and a Ditrochee, 

1 ^^ — ^* — V — k- 

^ i*^"T*- *» 

1 1 — 

— N~i— 

— %-q 



■■■ ^ ^ ■■ 4s» -at 

^ s s ^ — 

' a> 

— a^ ■ S 

' s 1 

,. „,■-,, 1 

or an Anapsest, a Spondee, and a Diiambus, 




-jtiuL -^ -—itL 

or putting the g bar first, 



'rttE GREEltg. 


Any of these collocations and many others we may 
use of the same bars. And these are the possible 
collocations of notes in the 14 note Phrases. 

And what collocations of 15 notes are admissible 
as Phrases? And 15 admits of the following diaereses' — 

14 + I 
13 + 2 

12 + 3 

II + 4 

10 + 5 

9 + 6 

8 + 7 
And none of these are admissible but only 10+5 
and 9 + 6 ; and 10:5 is the Ao-yot,- ^LirXarnog, 2 : i 
and 9:6, is the Xoyoc rffMoXiog, 3 : 2, and both of 
them are Triple Phrases. And it is plain that the 
first, 10 : 5, will consist of Paeonic Feet, and the 10 
notes will be two Paeonic Bars, and they will be 
followed by one Paeonic Bar, which will give the 5 
notes. And there willl be three bars in all. And we 
may use any of the Paeons we please to fdrrii our 
bars of, as : — 




-al—i^ a^— ^: 

10 + 5. 

2 Cretic Paeons and the 2nd Paeon, 


<^ t^ —w^ — -^ — — a^ a> — ^-ar— — ^ — -aj—l^- 


10 + 5 

the 3rd Paeon and 2 Prosodiacs, 
or inverting the ratios, and placing the 5 bar first, 


j vi ^ _> _: S _ >. ij*s 


' — a^ » — » 





a Prosodiac, a Resolved Paeon, and the Great Pseon, 
&c., &c. 

And next to take the second admissible ratio, 9 : 6 
And it is plain that the feet that compose this will 

6 ^ ^ 

be the - and - feet, but also the ^ feet will be 
84 8 

used, and this will give us our triple Phrase. For 2 

6 ^ 

bars of - or - would only give us 12 notes, that is 
8 4 

3 notes too little, and 3 bars would give us 3 notes too 

much, so we must also use a bar of -, and then we 


shall have our 15 notes, and they will be 3 bars in 
all, that is, a Triple Phrase. And they may be arranged 
as we please, either. 

f > 


■ r* ^_L 



r r \ \ 

J II 1 

J 1 

J 1 1 ' 1 


_ « « 



. ^ . 

a a a \ 








-^— ^ 

9 + 

or putting the ^ bar with the ^, 

■•■31^.2 1 

or inverting the ratio, 





-ai —d- 



r - -., _ ^ 

~f«» ■si' 

w n 1 

r ' 

-""<fi^ a - 4 d 

' s s s s 

^ ^ 





being composed of Diiambuses, Ditrochees, Bacchiuses. 
Iambuses, and Simple Trochees, in any position that 
we like to place them. And these are the possible 
collocations of notes in the 15 note Phrases. 

And what are the possible collocations of notes in 
the 16 note Phrases? And 16 admits of the following 
diaereses : — 

IS + I 
14 + 2 

13 + 3 
12 + 4 

II + 5 
10 + 6 

9 h 7 
8 + 8 

And none of these are possible ratios except the last, 
8 : 8, which is the [Xoyog 'icrog, i : i. So it is plain 
that the bars will be Dactylic bars, and each will be 
composed of 2 Dactylic bars of 4 notes each, so there 
will be 4 bars in all, and we have now come to Quad- 
ruple Phrases. And any, of the Dactylic feet may be 
used, and 4 bars of them, either 

—J W-J= s -1 ^— ^ zi -^ WiZ I=l L (^ 


2 Dactyls and 2 Spondees, or 

zizmiiM—^ — -an ^ — — Bj— — a^=: ziiz^tzstz: 

2 Anapaests and 2 Spondees, or 


fs 1'^ f»^ "- 

=1 i^Js: 



- S S ^ S 

S S a 

7 9. .^ 

..#':,.. •'■■."■•' *>■■ : 

Proceleusmatics and Dactyls. 


And this was the limit to Dactylic Phrasing, nor 
were any Dactylic Feet allowed to be combined in 
greater quantities than 4 bars to the Phrase.^ But the 
Iambic and the Paeonic Feet went higher, as we shall 
see. And perhaps there was a sobriety in the intona- 
tion of the Dactyl, compared with the lighter Iambs 
and Pseons, which may have led to the restriction. But 
this we cannot certainly say. 

What next was the possible collocation of 17 notes 
to make a Phrase? And all the diaereses of 17 are 
inadmissible, as will be seen, 16 + i, 15 + 2, 14 + 3, 
13+4, 12 + 5, II +6, 10 + 7. 

And what collocations of 18 notes are admissible as 
a Phrase? And 18 admits of the following diaereses: — 

17 + I 

15 + 3 
14 + 4 

13 + 5 
12 + 6 

II + 7 
10 + 8 

9 + 9 
And of these, 12+6 and 9 + 9 are the possible ones, 
and 12 : 6 is in the ratio 2:1, \6joq diirXamog, and 
9 : 9 is in the Xoyog iaog, i : i. But [9 : 9 goes out, 
because with the cessation of the Dactylic Feet there 
also ceases the Dactylic Phrasing, and all equal 
phrasing, iv Xojco iaco, of whatever kind, was called 
Dactylic Phrasing, as we have seen, because the Dactyl 

I Aristoxenus' Fragments. Paris ed. 11. apx^rm Se 

TO BaKTvXiKhv airo Ti:Tpaa^]}iov ayuijrig' avt,eTai Se i"^XP' 

iKKaiSeKaaijfxov, iocrra yiviadai rov fxiyiarov Trooa tov 
i\a~)^iaTOv TirpairkcKnov. 



was the primum mobile which originally created it, for 

the Phrase was but an extension of the Foot, and the 

Dactyl was an equal Foot. So that 9 : 9 goes out in 

consequence, and only 12:6 remains. And it is plain 

6 3 
that 12 will be 2 bars of - or - time, and 6 will be i 

8 4 

bar. And now let us mark this 18 note phrase, for 

in its Iambic form it was the great and glorious 

phrase of the Tragedians' Music, and is eternally in 

their mouths : — 





— ^ a*— al 

And we may admire how this noble phrase has been 

utterly lost in subsequent music, for we look in vain 

through all the compositions of modern times to 

discover one single phrase such as this, that is, a 

. 6 . 
phrase of 3 bars m ^ time.^ 


Now this is the simple form of the 18 note Phrase 
as the Tragedians used it, but it was also used 


with the - feet, that is, the Bacchiuses, or with the 

3 , , 6 . , 

- and the - mixed, e.g. 

4 o 



1 . -! -+S__J!! 

i 1 — h ^** ' ' 

— q 


r r* 

— ai Hi — 



-a* -a^ -«/- 

— J- 







1 ["s—]'* \ 1 1 

S — fs i 1 



— *«— M 

— ^—-d — ^- 

— J— 








I Westphal has discovered an approach to it in Beethoven's Adelaida, 
but this is the only instance he has been able to find and theiie the time is 






^ ■■■ 



1 1 



— a 

— ^ 

^ — -X 

— ^ — ^ -a 


— ^ -^ — 



12 +6 

a Diiamb, an Antispast, a Bacchius, Sz:c., &c. 

And with this ends the Iambic phrasing, for it was 
not allowed to go higher than 18 notes, just as the 
Dactylic was limited to i6J And we may admire the 
symmetry of principle that is here apparent. For the 
Dactyl consisted of 4 notes, and the highest Dactylic 
Phrase was of 4 bars, being a Quadruple Phrase 
And the Iambus consisted of 3 notes, and the highest 
Iambic Phrase was of 3 bars, being a Triple Phrase. 
And now the Paeon, which consisted of 5 notes, we 
shall find that its highest phrase was of 5 bars, being 
a Quintuple phrase, for the Paeonic Phrases were 
extended much further than either the Dactylic or 
Iambic, being extended to 25 notes in a Phrase.^ 
But we must first consider if any other Phrases come 
before it. And we have left off at phrases of 18 
notes, and now 19 admits no possible diaereses. And 
20 admits only the two following possible diaereses, 
12 : 8 and 10 : 10. But 10 : 10 can no longer 
be taken into the question, for it is Iv Xoyq* "lafjj, 
I : I, and we are done with all Dactylic or equal 
Phrases, whether Paeons or whatever foot compose the 
bars. And 12 : 8 is indeed in the true Paeonic 
relation, for it is Iv Xoyw imioXicj^, 3 : 2, but then no 
Paeons, which are the only possible foot now, will 
make it, for they only move in fives. So this 


1 Aristoxenus, loc, cit. to Se lajufitKov yivog apx^rai fxlv 
cnro TpiGi]ixov aywyi^c, av^trai ^l jiiixP'- OKTioKaiStKaaninov, 
loare yivaadai rov fiiyiarov woSa tov fXa^t'orov l^airXaaiov. 

2 Aristoxenus. Fragments. 11. 


likewise goes out. And 21, 22, 23, 24, have among 
them the possible diaereses, 11 + 11, 12 + 12, 
16 + 8, &c., but these are all useless now, for the 
Dactyls and the Iambics have ceased. So that lastly 
we come to 25, which admits the Diaeresis, 15 + 10 
(\6yog tiiuioXloc;, 3 : 2), and the Phrase plainly is 5 
Pseonic Bars, 

15 + 10 

And this is the longest of the Rhythmic Phrases. 
And without repeating the theoretical reason of this 
very long phrase, probably the great length was 
tolerable in a Phrase consisting of Paeons, which would 
have been intolerable in other feet, for the Paeon of 
all feet combines lightness with majesty, and speaks of 
delicate dancing and dainty treading. 

And this long Paeonic Phrase differs from the rest 
in another point also, for it is a Quintuple Phrase, 
that is, it is composed of 5 bars, and since there 
were 5 notes in each bar, being 25 in all, it is known 
in Greek Theory as the ttowc TraiojviKog TrevTEKaieiKocrdtTr}- 
juoc, for a Phrase was called irovg, and the small 
notes by which the bars and phrases were measured 
were called, as we have seen, ar]jxu.a. In this 
way, then, do the Paeonic feet repeat the original 
pattern of the simple Paeon in their most extended 
phrase, which is 5 bars, as the Paeon itself was 5 
notes, just as the Dactylic of 4 notes and the Iambic 
of 3 notes, attained their greatest phrase development 
in Phrases of 4 bars and of 3 bars respectively. And 
we may admire the symmetry that pervades all this. 

Now this System that we have here sketched 
represents the Science of Phrasing in its highest state 



of development, such, that is to say, as it attained 
in the compositions of Pindar and the Attic Trage- 
dians. But meanwhile at the point where we stand 
in our history, it had not attained this acme of 
development. For we are past the times of Sappho 
and the Lesbians indeed, and stand on the threshold 
of a new era, but their phrasing, which was the last 
we considered, was eminently simple by comparison 
with this elaborate style, and the phrase then seldom 
exceeded two bars in length, being generally a 
Dactylic Phrase of two Dactylic bars (wovg SaKTvXiKog 
oKraariiuog), or that Dactylic phrase of two Iambic 
bars (ttouc SuKrvXiKog k^cKjnfxpg), which subsequently 
developed into a juirpov, or Bar, of itself; nor did the 
line, which was the clause of the Period, contain as a 
rule more than two Phrases, though sometimes it 
contained three ; nor had those new feet, which have 
contributed so much to produce this variety of 
Rhythm, the Pseon, the Epitrite, etc., entered at all 
into the Musical Art. And how did these new feet 
enter into the Music, and the Period grow, and the 
Clauses grow, and this mighty magnitude of Rhythm 
start into being ? Who were the ushers of the feet, 
that gave to Greek Music its inexhaustible variety? 
And they were the Choral Poets, who were not only 
masters of Music, but masters of the dance. For the 
art of the Choral Poets was not limited, like that of 
the Lesbians, to composing the melodies of songs, but 
they must arrange the steps of the dancers too, for 
their songs were written to be sung by choruses of 
boys or men, who all the time were dancing. What 
lore of Rhythm, then, must they have been familiar 
with, by comparison with the Lesbian singers, who sat 
in balconies and boudoirs, singing an idle strain to their 
lute ! 


But yet did not this radiance of Rhythm burst 
from the choruses all at once, but was of slow growth 
like other things. And the Choral Poets were chiefly 
Dorians, who of all Greeks were the slowest to innovate, 
and received new feet and new combinations of feet 

And we may well ask what brought about this change 
in the exposition of Greece's best music, and its assig- 
nation to choruses instead of as before to solo singers. 
And while the tendency of the time to magnitude and 
composition will help us to understand it, there is 
another reason yet behind, which will make it clearer 
still. For the sceptre of culture had now passed from 
the Greeks of Asia to the Greeks of Sicily and Magna 
Grsecia, who had not lived so long in their foreign 
home without being affected by that spirit of organi- 
sation and combination, which is the deep-seated 
characteristic of the Italian mind.^ These were the 
days of Agrigentum's glories, of the wealth of Sybaris 
and Crotona, of golden statues sent from Syracuse 
to Delphi ; and the Dorian character, which ever had 
much in common with the Italian, had now indeed 
amalgamated with it. Choruses were the order of the 
day, and here sprung that noble line of Choral Poets — 
Ibycus, Stesichorus, Bacchylides, Simonides, and many 
more — who were all Sicilian or Italian Dorians,^ or 
else were gathered here from other parts of Greece 
because of their excellence in the Choral Style. 

1 I think Michelet was the first man who noticed this fact, in his 
Discorsi soprailVico. 

2 The bulk of the choral poets must have been Dorians, as is proved by 
the exclusive use of the Dorian dialect in the choruses, but it is odd that 
of these 4 coryphees here enumerated, only two can be reckoned as Dorians, 
Stesichorus, a pure Dorian, Ibycus, a Messeno-Dorian of Rhegium, but 
Bacchylides and Simonides were both lonians. 


And now we may well ask, what would be the 
effect on a song by its mere association with a 
Dancing Chorus ? And I am not speaking of the 
possible varieties which the steps would introduce into 
its rhythm, but rather of its Periodic Structure. For 
when last we left the Song in Lesbos, we found that 
it was written in Musical Periods, each independent 
and separate from the other, though in every respect 
exactly similar in the texture of their feet, and 
likewise in the phrases and clauses that made them 
up. The Musical Period is what we call, in the 
language of poetry, a Stanza, and we have studied 
various examples of the Stanza in the writings of 
Sappho and Alcaeus. Now let us imagine one of the 
Songs of Sappho fitted to the dance, and the dancers 
taught to tread in the measure of the song. And 
what will be the effect on this song? And the Cretan 
youths and maidens in Homer's time danced in a 
ring, tripping lightly round and round, as a potter 
makes his wheel spin round. And first they danced 
round from Right to Left, and then they danced 
round from Left to Right. And this was the figure 
of the dance. And this was the dance that Theseus 
brought to Athens, and spread as the common form 
of dance throughout the whole of Greece. And these 
dancers are now singing one of the Lesbian's songs. 
And with what effect ? That the stanzas will hence- 
forth go in twos, and the Musical Period, which was 
commensurate with the stanza, will be precisely doubled 
in length. For they will sing a stanza as they dance 
from Right to Left (the (rrpe^?)), and they will sing 
another stanza as they dance from Left to Right (the 
avTiarpoipri), and there the figure of the dance ends. 
And when they begin again, they will sing one stanza 
again in the arpoipri, and another stanza again in 



the avTiarpo^y) — and then again a pause. And so 
they will go on. And henceforth the Stanzas will go 
eternally in twos, and the Musical Period has been 
precisely doubled in length. So that if we note our 
song, as we hear it in the dances, we must remove 
our Period mark, " _ ", from the end of every stanza 
and put it only at the end of every second stanza, 
which is accordingly done by all the theorists,^ and 
the Period Mark appears only at the end of the 
Antistrophe ; for Stanzas now lost their name, when 
they were associated with tha dance, .and were called 
by the names of the dance's movements instead, and 
the first stanza was called the Strophe, and the second 
the Antistrophe, and henceforth they went in pairs. 

Yet since the Antistrophe was merely a repetition 
of the Strophe, we shall prefer to use the terminology. 
Period and Repeated Period, or even ist and 2nd 
Period, rather than to describe them as one entire 
Period, which the strict estimation of theory would 
require us to do. And there is another reason which 
will make this terminology preferable, for though 
eternally together, they were yet separate and distinct, 
and each was rounded off by its cadence, as it is 
plain they must have been, for if the Antistrophe 
was a note for note repetition of the Strophe, then 
the cadence that came at its end and rounded off 
the complete Dual Period, must still have first 
appeared at the end of the Strophe, for the Antis- 
trophe exactly repeated the Strophe, and so the Single 
Period was as rounded off and complete as the Dual 
Period ; and this is why it seems we had better 
speak of a ist and 2nd Period, or a Period and a 
Repeated Period, as we have said. 

I Hepheestion De Poemate. Cap. 5. ttejOI crj/xeiwi'. The Period was 
marked by the Greeks, thus, " — ." 


Now we have said that the Rhythm of the Choruses 
was yet of slow growth, despite the great temptation 
to variety, which must have been daily offered by 
the pretty pattering of the feet. Yet the poets were 
slow to innovate, being most of them Dorians, who 
were the most conservative of all the Greeks, and 
they received new feet and new combinations of feet 
charily. And first it was principally recastings of the 
old Hexameter that they used in their dances, for 
the Dorians were the custodians of the Hexameter. 
The innovations of Archilochus had scarcely reached 
to their seclusion, nor had that Asiatic lightness of 
speaking, of which those innovations were the conse- 
quence, affected their grave and sober tongue. It 
was the Dorians who took to their heart the severe 
Terpander, and the very " Girls," who received him, 
were now the masters of the opulent Tarentum. 
How good it was for the cause of Greek Music that 
the Dorians should now step forward as the leaders 
of the Choral Style ! for in this way the solid feet 
of the old Hexameter, Dactyls and Spondees, became 
the basis of the Choral Music, which had so long a 
future before it, instead of that light dancing step, 
the Choreius, or Trochee, _ \j, which, however even 
and regular, is yet a trip. And to the Dactyls 
and Spondees they added that form of the dactyl, 
which had grown up in the Laconian dances, the 
Back Dactyl, or Anapaest, ww_, which is almost as 
fine a foot, and is built on the same pattern. And 
these were the principal feet that they at first em- 
ployed. And first, as I said, it was principally re- 
castings of the old Hexameter that they used. As, 
for instance, the Hexameter shortened : — 



the greeks. 


I I 

\j \j — — — 

h* S ! I N S ! ! 

_> _AJ 




_ \j \j 



WW \J \j 

S SJ ! !S S ! ) 

KJ \-/ 



s _s 


s s I 

S r»^ I I s S ! !_ 



\J \J 

S \ I 



KJ \J 


_ W W _ 



> > I 


\j \j — 




_ w w _ 

\ s < > 

\j \j — 




Antistrophe (repeating 

w w 








— a^ 

._ s. 




u> 1 




— ZH 











s > 









_s . 


















— a^ — 






— ^ — 


^^ 1 

—^ — 






-B? 1 



-ff — 1_ 



— ^ — 


^ 1 


— a^ — 




_ s. 


— e^ — 



















> I 

■ & 






d ^ 




^ 1 

.:_ w w _ 


I Fragment 23. in Bergk. 





— ^ — 

Iw 1^ 1 1 

— •^— ^3-1 — ^ — 



— ^ — 



WW _ 



— 1 

_ WW _ WW -_ ww_ _ 

And here let us admire the glory of the Rhythm, 

and its chastity. 

Or sometimes the Hexameter nearer its original 

form, with perhaps the extra syllable of the popular 

songs, or two of these extra syllables, at the beginning, 

to vary it a little, and a catalectic syllable at the 

end, now and then, for the same purpose, as in that 

chorus of Stesichorus : — - 

" The sun has sunk into his golden cup. 
To go his voyage over the Ocean, 
To come to the depths of gloomy night, 
To his mother, his wife, and his children." 



'AfXt-oc S' 'Yirep - I - ovi - drig ^eirag icr/care - [daivev 
;^pucr£ov, 6(ppa Ei Qi K-eav - oi - o irup -aaac 


J^ J^ \:^-:^z&- 

a<^i - KOiB' lep - ag ttotI [div - Oaa vvKTog h - pi/uLvag, 
TTori fJLUT -£ -pa Kov-pi^i - avT a\o - xov ircu-^ag re ^ t - Aouc. 

\J \J WW _ WW — WW 


I Fragment 8. in Bergk. 

the greeks. 233 


\J \J WW —WW _WW WW 

WW _ww _ww __ww _ 

WW WW _WW _WW _WW — — 

WW _WW WW _ww _ww 


_ w w _ w w 

For, as will be seen, there is the utmost freedom 
allowed in the treatment of the materials, and the 
lines, which are the clauses of our period, may run 
to what lengths they please ; and the Period itself 
has passed from being a succinct, terse, conventional 
form, which many men use again and again to pour 
their thought in, to being an ever-shifting shape, which 
takes new form each time from the fancy of the poet. 
So he breaks up his lines to give variety, or compounds 
them and modifies them as he pleases, having no pre- 
scription to dictate conventional forms, nor any limit 
to the length of his period but the length which he 
wants the dancers to traverse, before they turn and 
repeat the figure. And now these lines, whatever the 
breaks and inequalities in their length, we must yet 
read straight on, without any rests or pauses between. 
For let alone that the Greeks regarded rests with 


much aversion, saying that they were a(l)t\i<mpoL 
" uncouth tilings," /uuKpoTrptirHg, " mean and paltry 
devices,^" and that the best poets always discarded 
them as far as possible ; in the Choral Style of all 
others must we be rid of them, so as not to permit the 
slightest break in the continuity of the song, which 
like a gauze veil wrapped the dance. 

And here are some mighty lines of Stesichorus, for he 
was vTrepOvfxecTTaTog avdpiov "the doughtiest of the poets," 

\J \J \J \J — WW — WW — WW 

I S- Is I I II 

— WW — — 

I II I lo» 'SI I Is 'SI I Is Kl I -1^ St I I ^k >S I 

WW — WW — WW — WW WW 

K (W I I II 

— WW — — 

and they are gigantic Hexameters. 

Or take those noble lines in his 7th Fragment, 

Is Sii I N \i I Is 'Si I I I 


And he was the most Epic of the Lyrikers. And 
he trained and drilled great choruses, marshalling them 
like armies in files of 8. And he is the typical 
Dorian among Dorians, and his measures are all 
recastings of the old Hexameter. 

But what shall we say of the passion of Ibycus, 
whose themes are eternally beautiful boys, for he was 
not content with the Dactyl and Spondee, but added 

1 Aristides. p. 97. 

2 Fragment I. in Bergk. 


the light, majestic Paeon, and thus he sweeps us along : — 


^ - pt filv ai re Kv - dii) - vi - at 

fxrj -\i-0£g ap - do- fXB - vai po-av 


£K TTO- ra - fx(x)v, 'I - va Trap- di-v(i)v 

KYj-TTog a - KTi-pa-Tog ai r ol - vav-9i-deg 

av- t,6- fxe - vat cTKi-ep - ot - aiv V(f f'p- ve-aiv 
■>_> ] J S >1 J SJo] J s> 1 


I - va- pi - oig ^a-\i - Oov-aiv ' h - fiol e-pog 

oi)-de-fu- av Ka-ra- KOi-rog io-pav,a9v-7ro <yre-po-TTag (pXi-jojv 
Qpr} - i - Kt - og (do- pi - ag. 

s ,M__j V. si 



_WW WW _ WW 




-J- J* I J— J^>f ^ 

WW w 


Or let us hear with what passion he uses his 
Anapaests, charging them here and there with Dactyls, 

"Epoc, av -re fie kv - a-ve-oia- iv v-tto fi\e(j)apoig raKep ofx- 

fia-m csp-KO-jus-voiQ 
Kr\-\{]-iJLa-aL iravro^aTroig eg airHpa Sik-tvu Kvirpi^i (daXXsi. 
^ fxav Tpo-fii-oj viv iTr-ep-)(^6-jue-vov, 

wore ^e-peZvyog 'iTnrog a-td-\6<j)0- pog viro yf]-pa'i ukoov 

is .IS ' I S S J i _ » J ' > >J '1 

avv o-\e(j-^i ^eoig eg aju-iX-Xav e^a. 

I Frag. 2 in Bergk. 

2 For the quantity, see infra, p. — . 




\J \J — \J \J 

\j \j \j \j WW — WW — 

WW — WW 


,s x,UJsjs| J-Js,Sj^J_^,UJ ^-J_^'>,Sj.^^ 

_WW — WW — WW — — — WW 


J^'^-J-A h- 



S !n ! ', S »» ! ! 


w w 

WW — WW— WW — 

And the Dorian Epitrite even Stesichorus has used, 
but Ibycus still more, combining it with the Paeon, 

- ^ , i - v^-ll 

as m that line, rovg re MvK'nnrovg Kopovg. And 

other feet he uses, as the Choriamb, or old Bacchius, 
the Iambic feet, &c., for he was the most travelled of 
these Dorian choral poets, and had heard Anacreon 
sing at the court of Polycrates, and from his being 
reputed the first to introduce the Sambuca, or small 
Egyptian harp into Greek Music, we may well credit 
him with a more liberal musical culture than many of 
the others had. And little by little, as we may suppose, 
all the feet came creeping in, and began to be freely 
used by composers, to enhance the variety of their 
measures. And now in the disposal of the feet there 
got to be acknowledged three great Styles of treat- 
ment, or Three Rhythms, as they were called, with one 
subordinate one, which was a mixture of two of the 


principal ones. And there was the Dorian Rhythm, 
which was founded on Dactyls and Spondees, with free 
admission to the Dorian Epitrite. And this was the 
greatest of them all, and the Master Rhythm. And 
there was the ^Eolian Rhythm, which, as we may con- 
jecture from our previous acquaintance with yEolian 
Music, was built of Trochees, Iambuses, Diiambuses, 
Antispasts, with an admixture of the light Cycli^, 

Dactyls, and Paeons, being in ^ and ^ time, and also, 
for the Paeons, in ^ time. And thirdly, there was the 
Lydian Rhythm, which was the softest of the Rhythms, 

and of which the preponderant time was a, and its 
feet chiefly the Bacchiuses, that is the Choriamb, and 
the two Ionic feet, the Ionic a majore and the Ionic a 
minore.i The fourth, or subordinate Rhythm, which was 
called the Locrian, was a mixture of the ^Eolian and 
the Dorian, the Dorian Dactyl taking the essentially 
Locrian form of the Anapaest, and being mixed with 
the ^olian Trochees and the Paeons,^ These were ■ 
the four ground styles, but they merely prescribed 
generally the feet that were to be used, and the arrange- 
ment of the feet was left entirely to the judgment of 
the composer ; and indeed even the prescription of 
the feet he need not very strictly keep — but might 
introduce Dactyls into the ^olian, and Trochees into 
the Lydian, &c., when he thought fit to do so, but 
then, what he was expected always to observe was 
the Ethos, or Spirit of the Style,3 and this a great 
genius may sometimes more truly express by violation, 

I Bockli. De metris Pindari. p. 293-295. And see the specimens as they 
are noted in Donaldson's Pindar. 

2- See the specimens of Locrian Rhythm in Donaldson's Pindar. 

3 Boclvh loc. cit. ' In Doriis animo tranquillo et sedato esse poetam 
jubebat vel invitum, in ^oliis (&c.' 


than a little one by keeping to rule. But the Dorian 
Style was the strictest of all, and was chary of 
admitting Triple time into its rhythm, though it did 
not disallow occasionally an infusion of the Paeonic. 

And now having stated the case broadly, let us 
admire the multitudinousness that is behind it. For 
if Science had taught men that all the Dactylic feet, 
for instance, were theoretically interchangeable, and all 
the Iambic feet, as for instance, the Iambus, w_, the 
Trochee, _ w, and the Tribrach or \j\j\j, which all 
observe the same measure, the practice of the dance 
had long inured the ear to such pleasant substitution, 
and the Principle of the Resolution and Compression 
of Feet, as it was called, put a new instrument in the 
hands of musicians, for enriching their simple materials 
with inexhaustible variety. For as the Iambus, w_, 
might be resolved to \j\j\j, and the Dactyl, —\j\j, 
to WW WW, so might all feet be treated, longs resolved 
into shorts, or shorts compressed to longs, and new feet 
proceed in the doing so, which never appear in the 
handbooks. For first there was the original form of 
the foot, or Trovg Kvpiog, as it was called, and suppose 
we take the Bacchiuses as our example, the Great 

Ionic, WW, was said to be the irovg Kvpiog of this 

group. Then there was the Trouc cFwaLptOeig, or the 
Compressed form of it, which gives us the Molossus, 

And then the Resolved form, irovg 8mXv0ac, 

w w w w w w. And then a combination of these 
two, TTovg (Tvvaip^Oeig icat ^laXvOilg, that is to say, partly 
resolved and partly compressed, and first with the 
resolution in the first place and the compression in 
the last, wwww_,and secondly with the resolution in 
the last place and the compression in the first, _ w w w w. 
And so we have got three new feet in the process, which 
constantly appear in Practical Music, but have no name 


in the handbooks.^ And let us take the Epitrites in 
the same manner. And our ttovq Kvpiog will be the 

Dorian Epitrite, _w And this must also stand 

for our TTovg awaiptOelg, since the Epitrite cannot 
compress all through. And the ttovq ^ioXvOhc will be 
\j Kj ^ \j \j KJ \J. And now the irovg awaipedHg koi dia- 
XvOeig will give us many forms, for ist with the Compres- 
sion in the ist place and the Resolution in the last, 
_w_ww, and 2nd with the Resolution both in the 
middle and the last, —\j\j\j\j\j, and 3rd with the 
Resolution in the middle, _www_. And the inverse 

of this will give us 3 other forms, \j \j \j , 

\j \j \j \j \j ^, and \j \j \j ^\j \j. So that out of 
the Epitrite alone we have evolved 7 other forms by 
Compression and Resolution, all in use in practical 
music, but unnamed in the handbooks. And if we 
add to these the three other forms of unresolved 
Epitrite, that is, the ist Epitrite, the 3rd and 4th 
Epitrites, we have altogether 11 forms of Epitrite 
possible, and all at the option of the composer.^ 
And now there was another and yet more potent 
instrument in the hands of the composer, for pro- 
curing an untold variety in his rhythms, and a 
variety too of the nicest and most delicate kind. 
And that was in the Approximation of Rhythms by 
the use of the Superfluous Accent. This Superfluous 
Accent, or aXoyia, we have seen used with great effect 
by Archilochus, and have seen that by its means he 

I Westphal's Metrik. II. 359. Westphal also gives kj \j WW, aS 

a TToiig ^LoXvOeig. He gives _ w w w w with the 

ciaXvOivreg. Cf. Barham's Prolegomena to Hephsestian. p. 349. 

I Compare the compression and resolution of the Pceonic Feet in the same 
way in Westphal's Metrik, II. 372. 


approximated some of his Iambuses to Spondees, and 
it was in the ist, 3rd, and 5th places of his line that 
he used it, and it increased a naturally short note by 

half its length, J^^n , which we expressed by a dot, 
thus, h , whereby an Iambus seemed so like a Spondee, 
that a long syllable might be taken to its first note, 

as in the following example, 

yj w_ _ v-;_ w_ 

Tplai - vav Icrd -Xrjv kol kvjSejO - vi]- ttjv veiov. 

where the long syllables, Arjv and rriv, in the 3rd and 
5th feet respectively, are taken to the short notes, h, 
of the Iambus, because each of these notes bears a 
Superfluous Accent. And now this Approximation of 
Feet became a common thing, and the utmost delicacy 
and refinement was introduced into Rhythm by its 
means. For these aXoymed Iambuses are like Spondees, 
and yet not Spondees, but just a remove from them. 
And now, as we said, dXoyias began to be freely used.^ 
And it wanted the nicest feeling for time to use them 

I The oAoyia has been noticed before in these pages, but seems to 
deserve a little more detail here, because we then only noticed it in connection 

with a J J^l bar (\6yog dnrXadtog). The following is 

"Westphal's exposition of the remarks of Aristoxenus : " Durch einen \6yog 
wird ein Tact bestimmt, wenn jedes Semeion ein Multiplum des ganzen 
^(povoQ irpwTOc ist, oder in einer ganzen auf die Einheit des ^ovog 
TTptJTog bezogenen Zahl ausgedriickt werden kann. Durch eine aXoyia 
wird ein Tact bestimmt, wenn nur das eine aber nicht das andere seiner 
Semeia in einer ganzen auf die Einheit des y/p6vog irpuJTOg bezogenen 
Zahl auszudriicken ist. (Antike Rhythmik. p. 77.) 

To those who admire how the aXoyia of the \6yog diirXamog is 
counted an aXoyia, and yet the liriTpiTog iTTTaaTqjXOg, whose relation is 
4 : 3, and is therefore precisely the same, is still reckoned a Xoyog, the 
word, " ganzen," in the above extract vnll furnish a clue for explanation, 
since es ergiebt sich dass as nicht auf den Werth der Zahlenverhaltnissen als 
Quotienten betrachtet ankommt, sondeni darauf ob die Zahlen ganze oder 
gebrochene sind d.h. ob sich die Semeia des Tactes oder die der ^laipemg 
TTOOtKT) entsprechenden 2 Abschnitte desselben durch ganze nach der Maass- 



well, as it wanted the nicest ear to appreciate them. 
And Dactyls could be approximated to Pseons, _ w w, 
and Paeons to Molossuses, _w_, and Bacchiuses to 

Epitrites, ww &c., in each of these cases a long 

syllable falling on the aXoytaed note, yet without being 
dwelt on the full time, so as to change the foot to that 
it offered at. And some of these aXoyias we have 
particularly described to us, and it is the aXoyiaed 
Tribrach that is minutely described, and there are two 
forms of this dXoyiaed Tribrach, ist, with the aXoyia 

/. ," J- 

on the 1st syllable, \j . yu \j ^"d 2nd, with the 

fXT} - ripog 

\ '% \ 
J J J . 
aXoyia on the last syllable, \j ^j \j ■ — each of these 

with a long syllable in them, indeed, and yet a 
Tribrach. And we should say that in the ist case 
the Tribrach had been approximated to a Dactyl, and in 
the 2nd case that it was approximated to an Anapaest. 
But the Greeks, whose ear must therefore have been 
marvellously fine, felt it in another way. For with all 
that the Tribrach was sung to a Dactyl word, they 
never lost the sense of the Tribrach Arsis and Thesis 
on the way ; and since the Tribrach has the arsis and 

einheit der -^^povOQ irpCjTog benannte Zahlen ausdrucken lassen oder 
nur durch gebrochene Zahlen. lb. p. 78. 

Here then are the aXoyim of the simple bars, in arithmetical computa- 
tion : — 

2:1- aXoyia 

Xoyog dnrXamog 2 : I 
2 : I 

Xoyog '[(Tog 2 : 2 

2:2- aAoyia 
Xo-yoc rifiioXiog 2 : 3 

2:3- aXoyia 



/ 2 : I I : 2 \ 

thesis of the Iambic feet - — ^^ or ^/^-^ ), they 

\\j \j \j \j \j \j ) 

felt that it had been approximated rather to the 
Trochee, — \j, and when the last note had the akoyia, 
\j\j \j , y that it had been approximated to the 
Iambus, and so they called aXoymed Tribrachs, 
Trochaeoids and lamboids accordingly.^ And possibly 
that approximation of Dactyls to Paeons, and Paeons 
to Molossuses, &c., would have struck them in a different 
way to what it does us, and would have deserved 
another name accordingly, which our coarser ears will 
scarcely enable us to select. And now let us admire 
what perpetual vicissitudes of rhythm this crossing of 
the feet, what flushings and glancings of rhythm 
these offers at feet and coy substitutions of longs for 
shorts would work upon the metre ! What miniature 
painting within our big frames does it not point to! 
And what inexhaustible variety does this and that 
other device, the Compression and Resolution of the 
feet, secure to the very simplest materials ! For to take 
one foot alone, the Dochmius, and we will take this, 
because it has had the benefit of most admirable study 
by a very great scholar, the Dochmius alone, by benefit 
of these two principles, admits of at least 32 varieties. 
For the Dochmius, which is a compound foot, and 
for which, it may be remarked, owing to its not sub- 
scribing to the usual diaereses, a special phrasing was 
created, the Xoyo? oKraanfJ-og, as in the case of 
the Epitrite — in its simple form (jrovg Kvpiog) is 

• • * * ^ . And by resolution (diaXvddg) this 
VJ _ _ w _ 

^ eiffi Sf Koi aXoyoi xopeloi ^vo [6 juev] la/x^oeidrig og 
(rvviarriKev £/c fxaKpag apaewg kol Svo [(5pa\HU)v'?} Oiaiiov, 
6 o£ Tpo)(l^ai]oeidrig he dvo [(ipa-)(^Ei<Lv^ Oi<T£U)v koI fxaKpag 
apathig kut avTL(JTpo<^r\v rov irporipov, Aristides, p. 59- 


becomes * ^ m ^ m m « m . And by resolution 

w \J \J \J \J \J \J \J 

and compression (^laXvOeig koI awaipeOeig) in its 
various parts : — 

www — W — 
w _ www — 

W W W W W W — 
W _ —WWW 

www _ www 
W — w w w w w 

And by aXoyia as follows :- 

h I I 

r t 

w _ 

/. J* ." J J* J 

>_ w w _ w — 

J", -r J" J' ^ ^ J 

w w w w w — 

J*. J J' J^ J* J 

_ ^ o v-» w — 

J* J J .^ J 

J«. J J /.J 
^ J- J* J J*- J 

www— — — 

/. / / J J*. J 

__ W W — — — 

.1^ J ;> ^ .^. J 

w _ w w _ — 

THE GREEKS. 2^4 2.4- T 

^. J J^ / J". J 

__ _ W V/ — — 

J, ^ J, J. j> J., J 

\j \j \j yj \J — — 


J* ^ J 

w v/ _ 


^ / J 

WW — 













m ' » m m S S 
w w _ www 

/. j"* J* j" j^ w^ jVj^ 

_ wwwwwww 

W _ W W _ WW 

— _ W W _ WW 

w _ _ — W _ 

J". J J J", w" J' 

— — WW 

WWW— _ WW 

& ' ^ ■^ ^ • -J ^ 

WW \J \J 


J* J^ J" J" J^ J*. J' j" 

\J \J KJ \J \J ^ \J \J 

J". J' J- J' J" J". J- J' . ' 

And all these are found. What a column, then, 
should we make, if we were to write the possible 
variations on every foot, as we have done in the case of 
the Dochmius ! But let us imagine all those other 
feet, the 5 Paeons, the Epitrites, the Bacchiuses, &c., 
&c., treated in the same way, and marvel at the 
mightiness of the Rhythm. For all these feet in their 
countless forms were now in free use in the choruses, 
and the Dorian, Lydian, and ^Eolian Rhythms were 
enriched to a wonderful exuberance, and the feet and 
the rhythms were clustering, like an orchard of inter- 
lacing boughs, to await the coming of Pindar. And 
a swarm of bees settled on his lips while he lay in 
the cradle, and it was predicted of him that he 
would be a great poet. 

And Pindar was the son of a Theban flute-player, 
and his ancestors had been flute-players at Thebes 
for many generations.^ And the flute had always 
been the favourite instrument at Thebes, and every 
Theban boy was taught to play it, as a systematic part 
of his education.3 And even the greatest Theban 
statesmen and warriors would boast how well they 
could play the flute in their childhood, as Epaminondas, 
for instance, who was a most skilful player on the 
flute, and was a pupil of the great Theban flute" 
player, Orthagoras.4 And the Lake Copais, which was 
near Thebes, was said to produce almost as fine reeds 

1 Seidler. De Versibus Dochmiacis. 

2 See Creuzer's Symbolik. HI. T07-8. 

3 Athenseus. 184. 4 Athenseus. lb. 


for making flutes of as the Flute Pond in Phrygia.^ 
And in this way Thebes had attained in early times 
a great reputation, as the home of the Flute in 
Northern Greece.^ Now Pindar, whose father was a 
flute-player by profession, received a more careful 
instruction in the art of flute-playing than most 
Theban boys would do. And when his father had 
taught him all he could, and found that the boy 
began to rival him in skill, he placed him under 
Scopelinus, who was a most celebrated Theban flute- 
player, to finish his education under him.^ Now the 
style of the Theban flute-playing was the Auletic 
style, that is to say, it was not the natural Grecian 
style, which was Auloedic, but the foreign style of 
solo flute-playing. And this style had been established 
in Thebes even earlier, some say, than the times of 
Olympus,, for it was reported to have come in with 
those Phoenician settlers, who had made Thebes their 
principal settlement in Greece, so that we may 
almost say that the Auletic style was indigenous to 
Thebes. This then was the style which Pindar learnt 
under Scopelinus. But it happened at this time that 
the greatest musician in Southern Greece came to 
live at Thebes, whose name was Lasus of Hermione 
in Argolis,4 and Pindar was now placed under him 
for instruction. And Lasus, coming from the thick 
of the national Greek school of Flute-playing, 
which flourished in Argolis and Arcadia, having 
been founded by Ardalos of Troezen, and carried on 
by the Arcadian Clonas, naturally practised the 
Auloedic style of flute-playing, and this was the style 

1 Strabo. IX. 

2 Dion Chrysostom. Orat. VII. 

^ SkotteXivov avXr]Triv, He was Pindar's uncle. 

4 Clemens Alexandrinus, Stromateis. I. 


that the young Pindar now learnt from him. 
But Lasus also taught him something which was 
much more important than even Auloedic flute-playing, 
and that was Lyre-playing,^ which was much neglected 
in Thebes, and which Pindar would scarcely have 
learnt, at least to any high perfection, had it not 
been for the fortunate arrival and settlement of Lasus 
in his native town. And Lasus soon passed him on 
from flute-playing to study the Lyre alone, deeming 
that the more important of the two, especially in the 
way he taught it. For the style of Lasus was unique 
at the time, though afterwards it gained a very numerous 
following in Greece. And his speciality lay in this, 
that he had introduced the graceful runs and ornamental 
passages, which till then had been limited to flute- 
playing, and performed them on the lyre instead ; in 
this way effecting a union of the two styles, which before 
had not been thought of.^ For the lyre had always 
retained its grave and sober style, and the gay 
sporting with tones the flute alone might practise. 
But now the Lyre attained a lightness and a gaiety 
in the hands of Lasus, which some indeed called 
meretricious, but which nevertheless we must accept 
as the natural result of the times. 

But besides being celebrated as a famous practical 
musician, Lasus had a still greater and more lasting 
renown as the profoundest master of the Science of 
Music that Greece had yet seen, being indeed the 
Albrechtsberger or Porpora of Greece, and the first 
who summed up the results of art and digested them 
into a Scientific Treatise.^ And doubtless many of the 
technical terms that we have had occasion to use in 

^ Trap" to TTiv XvpiKi)v iTrai^wOr]. In the Aldine life. 

2 As may be easily deduced from Plutarch. De Mus. 29. 

3 Suidas. 


discussing the feet and the phrases, owe their origin 
to him, though we first find them in the writings of 
Aristoxenus. Under him therefore would Pindar 
be initiated into the mysteries of Phrasing and 
Barring, and the doctrine of the Compression and 
Resolution of feet, which we have lately considered. 
And into the Metathesis, or Permutation of Feet, 
by which the Antispast might suffer Permutation with 

the Diiambus, as ; ~ ~ , and the Choriamb Bacchius 

with the Diiambus, likewise, as ; ~ w ~ ' ^^^ ^^^ 

Greater Ionic Bacchius with the Ditrochee ,^ 

— \j — \jj ' 


and so in the last two instances ^ time might pass into 


E, without presuming a change of measure, which was an 

easy deduction from the doctrine of the Epiploce of 
feet, agreeably to which it was demonstrated that the 
2 Antispast was convertible with the ^ Bacchiuses, 

by the use of passages ; since taking a line of greater 

a^mpw T77V Trpwrrjv crvWa^riv 

__ww \J \J \j \j \j \j 

CKpaipu) Triv ^tvripav 

\j \J WW WW WW 

a<f>aip(i) TTJV TpiTTlV. 

W WW WW WW w^ 

and thus by a removal of a syllable, time after time, 

from the beginning to the end, it was demonstrated 

that the g Antispast must be allowed convertible 

with the ^ Bacchiuses — since it contains their exact 

1 Bockh, De Metris Pindari, p. 90. 

2 Scholiast on Hephaestion. 


equivalent of syllables. And therefore the 8 
Ditrochees and Diiambuses were admitted as con- 
vertible in like manner. ^ And the system of Lasus 
would comprise the doctrine of barring, and how, 
whether the Arsis or the Thesis opened a foot, the 
light accent or the heavy, the bar must always include 
the entire foot,^ nor any half barring admissible, as 
we in modern times use, who would bar such a 
passage as this, ^^ J J* J h J , in the following way, 

rJ^^-J ^'— J ^Hi ' t)ut the Greek barring 
was different, and that short note, instead of being 
out of the bar, stood as the first note in it, being 
called the xp^^^? Kadr\'yovfXivog, or " opening note," while 
the second note was called the xpovoc tiroixivog, or 

" following note,"3 as thus : ^^' "jj * ^^' i 

without any distinction whether they were long or 
short, as, if a Trochee were to be barred, the J 
would this time be called the xp^voe KaOriyovfiavog 

and the J^ the xp^^^c kirofievog : '^^* i * '^"'i^ and 

Iambics and Trochees alike included in complete bars. 

and this 


1 The best Epiploce was of the 2 Ionics and the Choriambic. The Antis- 
past was not so good, and is principally supported by the Metricians. All the 
feet might be treated by Epiploce. Some say (Westphal. Metrik. II. 372) 
that the Paeonic feet did not admit Epiploce. It is more usual to allow it. See 
Barham's Prolegomena to Hephaestion. 

2 This fact, which we have alluded to before, may well be seen from the 
locus classicus in Aristides, though countless testimony is forthcoming else- 
where at every step : rwv §€ pvdfifjjv (Aristides uses this term both for 
phrases and bars. Cf. p. 35, 36. Ed. Meibomius.) rjav^aiTepOL fxlv ol 
airo ^iazii)v irpoKaTacTTeWovTsg Trfv didvoiav' 01 Se airb 
apcretov ry (j)(i)vy rrjv Kpov(Tiv IrrKpipovTsg nrapayfiivoi. 

3 Cf. Aristides Quintilianus. orav dvo ttoSwv Xa/x^avo- 
fiivwv 6 filv e)(ij Tov fxeit^ova \p6vov Kad-qyovfisvov, 
kir 6 fjiav o V Se tov eXdrrova, 6 Bt Ivavriwg. 


:^^^:Hz^M '^"d :.t^=iitW5bt^ , and the 
other feet in like manner, Anapaests barred like 

T-w .1 K ^ I > \ Is ' I IS l\ < I 1 I IS \l I Is iSl < S 'Si 

Dactyls, :Jii±^at]::^stWz| and jt-jMn^iHi^iifMiMjiz^ 
Lesser Ionics like Great Ionics, -J^^^-J-l-J^ '^-J -l -J^'^-^ I 
and J-J-J ^-J J- JV^ J- J-A*^ 1 , 2nd and 3rd Paeons like 
ist Paeons, ..J^J-J>Js}-J ^J^J,Js}^ JsJ_jiJsi ^ ^ 

&c. And the reason of this was that the accent 

did not necessarily fall on the first place in the bar, 

I as it does with us, but might fall on any place 

in it, as, in the Anapaest it fell on the last, 

I t I 

\j\j— i\jKj— ^\j\j— in the 2nd Paeon on 

h ^ J I V>\\ h ^ I I 

r t 

the 2nd place ^^ \j \j i \j — \j \jy in the 

3rd Paeon on the 3rd \j \j — w>ww_ \j 

9 m 9 9 \ 9 -m ^ 9 \ 
and in the other feet in like manner, the general rule 

being that it should fall on a long note that stood in 

the middle of short ones, as in these Paeons, and on 

the 1st of two long ones that came together, as 


in the Great Ionic, ^ ~ ^ ^ , the lesser Ionic, 

I I s SI 


^ J J J &c., &c. And the system of Lasus 
>^ w _ _ 

would comprise the exposition of the aywyi?, or 

principle of timing pieces.^ And there might be all 

^ dywyri Bi lari pvdixiKrj ^joovwv raxoQ rj (dpa^VTr^g. 
Aristides, p. 42. 


shades of time employed, from very fast to very slow, 
whatever the feet were that were used. For the time 
of a piece was regulated by its ^^povoc irpioTog, or 
shortest note.^ And at the opening of the piece this 
had a definite value awarded it^^ (as we should say 

M.M. M.M. 

h = 60., or h = 92.), and the other notes took 
their time from it. So that a piece in Spondees need 
not necessarily have been double as slow as one in 
Proceleusmatics and Pyrrhics, for by assigning the 
Xpovog TTpioTog, w, double the length in the Proce- 
leusmatic and Pyrrhic piece that it had in the Spondaic, 
the Spondee would take no more time in its execution 
than the Pyrrhic would, but precisely the same, ^ "^ 

And thus the Proceleusmatic in one piece would occupy 

"^ 3 
the same time as 2 Spondees in the other, w v^ w w 


And so on with the other feet, so that it is no guide 
to the time at which any piece was taken to examine 
whether it contains more short notes than long ones, 
as little as it would be in modern music, where pieces 
in quavers are often much slower than pieces in 
minims. But in each case we are at liberty to award 
what value we like to our shortest note, and this, be 
it fast or slow, will give us the time of the others. 
At the same time, when we find pieces written in 
Pyrrhics and Proceleusmatics, we are much more likely 
to be right if we take them to quick time, and pieces 
in Spondees to slow time, and generally the Ethos, or 
Spirit of the composition, is the best of all guides to 

I Aristoxenus. Rhythmic Fragments. 280. 282. 2 lb. p. 118 sq. 

^ fjitvovTog Tov \6yov Kaff ov SiMpiarai tu jivt] ra fjieytur] 
KiVHTat TU)V TTOOwv otfl Ti]v Ttjg aywyrig ^vvafiiv koX tu)V 
fxeyeSewT /xbvovtwv avo/ioioi yivovrai 01 woSeg. AristOX. 
Frag. 34. 


fixing the time, and having got that, let us then 
determine our shortest note at an agreeable value, and 
the rest of the piece will run accordingly. And in the 
school of Lasus would Pindar have studied the com- 
position of passages,^ or those collection of passages 
which appear in the handbooks, being, so to speak, 
contrapuntal commonplaces for acquiring skill and 
facility in the grouping of feet. As 

1st Passages — t^ ivog la/j£ov koi rpLtov rpo^aidiv. 

(a) Tgo^aloQ airb Id/x^ov, w \J \J — \J 

(/3) Tpo)(aiog airo j3aK;^6toi; \J \J w — w 

(7) (5aKX^7.og airo rpoxf^iov v-/ — \J \J w 

(8) 1.afi^og hTTiTpiTog \J \J \J \J 

2nd Passages — 'iva Tpo^aXov roiig^e Xonroiig Idfi&ovg e^ovTeg. 

(a) ia/i€oc OTTO Tpo-)(aiov \J kj — \j — \J — 

(|3) 'la/x^og airo j3aK;^£iou w \J \J — \J — 

(7) j3aic;^£toe OTTO Idfi^ov \J — \j \J \J — 

(o) Tpo^diog eTTiTpLTOg w w \J \J 

3rd Passages — Svo rpoj^aiovg laovg ^l \dfit>ovg i-xpvTig. 

(a) airXovg l3aK\Hog arrb ia/i€ou w \j \J — \J 

(/3) airXovg (iaK\e'iog airo rpo^aiov w \J \J \j 

(7) jLiiaog 'iap£og kj \J \J kj 

(8) fiiaog Tpoxoxog w \J \J kj ^ 

etc., etc., in which exercises and others like them we 
have ample grounds for supposing that pupils were 
continually practised, in order to give them the 
necessary freedom of treatment in the grouping of 
dissimilar feet. And in the school of Lasus would 
be taught the Construction of the Musical Period, how 

1 I imagine * passages,' or some such word is the best translation for 
Aristides' irepio^og here. It is not used in the same technical sense we 
have hitherto found it in. 

2 Aristides. p, 37. 


it was composed of Phrases and Clauses, and how 
two Phrases went to the Clause, but many Clauses 
to the Period, and the graceful arrangement and 
contrast of clauses, and the arts for diversifying their 
rhythms, would be learnt from such exercises as the 
above. These and many other things like them we 
must imagine came into the musical education of these 
days, and with particular detail and accuracy would 
they be acquired by the pupils of Lasus ; for Lasus 
was a man of the most fastidious taste. Like many 
great theorists who have come after him, he might be 
accused of an ultra-fastidiousness of taste, to which 
he joined an amazingly subtle intellect, and doubtless 
those minute and subtle discussions on recondite points 
of Rhythm,! which we read in the writings of 
Aristoxenus, are to be traced finally to him. For 
we find such questions closely debated as this : If 
we say that the letter m, as in the interjection w, is to 

be taken to the time of a long, J , what will be the 

time of the same letter when it occurs with a con- 
sonant before it, as in the word rw, which is also 

taken to the time of a long, J ? Will not the w 

have less time now, since r must share part of the 
note, or, per contra, will the w keep the same time, 
and the r have a fraction of extra time, and so the 

lo'^gj J be really lengthened by a minute fraction, 

which, though scarcely felt in the singing, is yet there? 
Or, given the word aaw, which is taken to the time 
of a Molossus, J J J I, it is required to calcu- 


I So I take the epiariKoiig \6yovg pi Suidas. ' quibbles.' 
' sophistries,' &c. 


late the additional fractions which that Molossus will 
have received, when the word, dvOpw-n-M, is sung to 
it. Or, ^er contra, should we not rather calculate the 
time of the Molossus on the basis of dvOpunriOy 

II 11 

y ^^, ^ I , and then make the necessary fractional 

deductions for words of three vowels without any 
consonants intervening, since words with consonants 
between the vowels are much commoner than words 
without ? I 

Such discussions as these may testify to the peculiar 
subtlety of Lasus' intellect, but his fastidiousness of 
taste is quite as remarkable. For he wrote whole 
poems without a single " s " occurring all the way 
through, because he disliked the way in which the 
letter was pronounced.^ These are the tJSat amyixoi, 
which his pupil, Pindar, loudly commends as triumphs 
of art.3 For Pindar was a devoted admirer of Lasus, 
I and received the good and the bad from his master 
with equal good faith, as all great pupils have ever 

And now Pindar, who was yet a boy, began to 
commence poet on his own account. And he con- 
sulted the Theban poetess, Corinna, about the choice 
of a subject. And she advised him to write a poem. 
To the Thebans, and for the matter of the poem to 
use the mythology of Thebes. And accordingly Pindar 
produced his first poem, written on the lines that 

1 These are a flavour of the discuissions which open Aristoxenus' Rhythmic 

2 It was the Doric pronunciation of "s" which Lasus disliked, for the 
Dorians pronounced it like a guttural "h," and all the choral music was by 
prescription written in the Doric Dialect. 

3 Fragment 47, in Donaldson. 


Corinna had laid down for him, and in the first six 
h'nes of it he had collected together the entire 
mythology of Thebes. He had exhausted the whole 
Theban mythology at one blow. 
" / will sing" it goes, " about Ismenus, or Melia with the 

golden distaffs 
Or Cadmus, or the men who sprang from the dragon's 

Or the nymph, Thebe, with the blue head-dress, 
Or Hercules, the patron deity of Thebes, 
Or the festive honours that the Thebans pay to Dionysus, 
Or the wedding of the white-armed Harmonia, whom 

Cadmus married^ 
When he showed his poem to Corinna, she said to him, 
"You must sow with the hand, not with the whole 
sack " (ry X^'P' '^^^ (TTrdpsiv aWd firj oXtj) tio ^uXaict^),^ 
for he had exhausted the whole mythology of Thebes 
at one blow. 

When Pindar was sixteen years of age we hear of 
him at Athens, whither he had gone probably in 
company with Lasus, and now commences the practical 
era of Pindar's life. And at Athens he was employed 
in drilling and training the choruses in their parts, 
most likely acting as chorus-master to Lasus, just as at 
a later time in his life, when he got richer, he could 
employ chorus-masters himself^ And here he must have 
acquired great experience in the practical side of his 
art, which would be of infinite use to him afterwards. 
For four years he served in this capacity, and then we 
hear of him fairly started on his own account as 
composer and poet. Now at .^gina, now at Larissa in 
Thessaly, now at Thebes again, now at Athens, now in 

1 Plutarch. De Glor. Athen. 14. 

2 Olymp. VI. 87. Donaldson's Edition. All the references are to this 


Argolis, he wandered hither and thither through Greece, 
composing music, and training the choruses who sang 
it. And it was principally Triumphal Songs that he 
was engaged to compose. For those who conquered in 
the chariot races, or the foot race, or the boxing, or the 
running, or the wrestling at the Olympian, Nemean, 
Isthmian, Pythian Games, must needs have music and 
a poet to commemorate their exploits, and Pindar 
wrote these triumphal songs, to be sung in the native 
city of the conqueror in processions, or at banquets, 
or in torchlight processions through the streets, when 
the victor came crowned with flowers in the midst of 
the triumphal chorus, or in the porch of his house, 
or in the temples of the gods, as that triumphal 
song in honour of Asopichus, who conquered in the 
foot race of boys, which was sung by a chorus of 
boys in the temple of the Graces at Orchomenus. 
And Pindar was generally present in person to 
direct the performance of his music, and he drilled 
the chorus, and taught them their steps, for each 
song had its own peculiar measure, and by conse- 
quence its peculiar steps, and there were no two 

So that Pindar, wandering from city to city in 
Greece, saw much of the world and received im- 
pressions and influences from many quarters, being 
already grounded in his youth by a fortunate con- 
currence of circumstances in every style of music that 
obtained in Greece, and having had the benefit of the 
first theorist of the day for his master. 

And now was a new force working its way into 
Greek Music, which, had he not had so severe a 
training, and the benefit of such thorough experience, 
was like to divert him much from the purity and 
perfection of his a:rt. And we have seen how other 



foreign ingredients had insinuated themselves from time 
to time into Greek Music, and how they enriched it 
indeed, but without spoiling it, for they were always 
repressed and kept under, and the Greek Music 
remained pure. But this got a greater hold than 
them all, and effected a lodgment in Greek Music 
that was destined to be imperial and eternal. And had 
not the wonderful innocence and purity of the Greek 
mind transfigured and whitened this black thing in a 
way that is incomprehensible and divine, our history 
of Greek Music might end with this page. For it was 
an unholy and devastating thing, which sapped the 
very foundation of the music, that artful structure we 
have dwelt on so long, and corroded and corrupted 
that glorious Grecian soul, to which the Music owed 
its being. But not for ever, or indeed for long, for it 
had come to virgin lands, and to men who revelled in 
the sunlight, and very soon it drooped, nor revived 
again, until it had put on the colours that they wore. 
For this was the worship of Bel and Astarte, that had 
travelled all the way from Babylon, had seethed in the 
ports of Phoenicia, hung for a while in Phrygia 
and Lydia, and now discharged itself full in the face 
of Greece. And Bel and Astarte were those whom 
the Phoenicians called Venus and Adonis, and in 
Phrygia they were Bacchus and Cybele, and as Bacchus 
and Cybele, or Bacchus and Aphrodite they now 
appeared in Greece.^ Tremble, Greece at the names ! 
For Wine and Love will sap thy strength ; Bacchus 
make thy dancers stagger, and Aphrodite make women 

I This is not the place to enter into a discussion on the identification of these 
various deities, which is in accordance with modern conjecture, and also with 
much of the expressed opinion of antiquity, tov cl "Aowvtv ov\ srepov 
aXXa Ai6vv(T0V elvai voiiit,ov<nv says Plutarch, and Lucian's account 
of the mysteries of Byblus shows us that the Byblian Venus was plainly 


out of men. And Bacchus was called in Phoenicia 
"The Flute God,"i and as the Flute God did he come 
to Greece, coming with a horde of wild worshippers, 
strange figures dressed in fawnskin, men dressed as 
women, women dressed as men, coming with the 
Msenads, and the Thyiads, and the Bacchantes, and 
the Mimallonids, and the Satyrs, and the Fauns, with 
Pan and old Silenus in his train, coming shaking his 
thyrsus and doomed to conquer, wreathed in vine-leaves, 
wreathed in ivy, crushing grapes, and pouring wine. What 
are the arts that his wild crew will allure us by, and 
teach us to stagger and our brains to swim ? Here they 
come dancing, those Maenads and Thyiads, naked and 
bold, and flushed with wine. And the Satyrs are laughing 
and grinning and mowing, and tambourines are rattling, 
and castanets crackling, and flutes whistling. Oh ! 
we fall before thee. Great Bacchus, and acknowledge 
that thou hast triumphed already. 

And from the shores of Phrygia did the Corybantes 
come, bringing a sombrer form of Bacchus worship, 
breathing out dirges and laments on the Phrygian 
pipe, moaning and bewailing for the death of Bacchus, 
for Bacchus is the Sun, and the Sun must die, for 
once a year comes the boar. Winter, and wounds him 
with his tusk, and then is Bacchus the dead Adonis, 
And this form of Bacchus worship did the Corybantes 
bring ; which likewise came from Phoenicia, for once 
a year the Syrian damsels mourned the dead Adonis 
in the vales of Lebanon. And in this mixed form 
of joy and woe did the worship of Bacchus come to 
And Bacchus was worshipped, now in laughter, and 

I He was called Gingras (Jul. Poll. IV.) which was the name of the 
Phoenician flute. Creuzer (Symbolik, II. 96.) goes so far as to say that he 
derived his name from the flute, not the flute from him. 


now in tears, but in each case it was an orgy. The 
Phoenician women jumped yelling on to the altars.^ 
The tipsy eunuch priests staggered sputtering and 
foaming, gashing themselves with knives, and howling 
dirges for the dead Bacchus, who might never rise 
again. And often it was at the dead of night that 
the worshippers met, and the midnight traveller would 
descry in the distance through the trees a blazing 
altar, with fantastic shapes circling round it. These 
were the votaries of guilty excess, led by the 
priestesses of the god. And the fairest virgins and 
purest matrons of the land were drawn into the 
whirlpool of these unholy rites. Woe be to him if 
he approached too near ! for he might see his own 
wife or his mother among the -zrowd. Then there 
were the joyful orgies — in the spring-time, when 
Bacchus arose from the dead, or at the vintage, when 
the bloom of all the earth had come. Foul beauties 
and excellent impurities — loose garments and crimson 
bodies — pleasure let loose and virtue fled, and all the 
desires of the soul to be satisfied. Wanton looks and 
daring gestures, bold tossings of the panting limbs, 
and wine to feed the passions to a height that they 
tore to lust and infamy. Such were the elements 
that now entered Greek life, and they expressed 
themselves in Greek Music under the form of the 

For the Dithyramb was the dance that the wor- 
shippers of Bacchus used in their orgies. And it was 
called Dithyramb, because the step that was chiefly 
used was the Dithriambus, or " Double Leap," _ w v^ _ 
which was also called the Bacchic step, or Bacchius, 
because it was so favourite a one in the Bacchic dances. 

I Strabo. X. 


And how was the Dithyramb danced ? And we know 
very well how it was danced, for '' ubi cymbal{im 
sonat vox^ where the crashing cymbals and the rolling 
drums roar, where the Phrygian pipes are snorting, 
and the Monads' heads are tossing, and the prayers 
are screamed to Bacchus all the while, as the choir 
of dancers flits scouring round the altar. Thither too 
let us hurry, with beating steps hurrying along. Thus 
the eunuch gave the word, and was answered with a 
yell, with a roar ; and the drums thunder louder, 
and the cymbals clash louder, and the dancers fly 
panting and mad through the grove." It was a wild 
orgy indeed, and very far removed from the sobriety and 
plastic grace, which made the Greek dances a study 
to the sculptor. And now we must see this Dithyramb 
tamed and corrected, and taught, however hardly it 
received the lesson, to observe some measure of 
symmetry and proportion. And it was in the Dorian 
city of Corinth that it got its first lesson, which though 
a Dorian city was yet perhaps the most voluptuous city 
in Greece. And the luxurious Corinth had given ready 
admission to the Bacchic rites. Indeed, some say that 
the Dithyramb made its first appearance there.^ And 
this well might be, for in Corinth was that great 
temple of Venus, that had 1,000 girls in the service of 
the temple, iroXv^evai veaviSec, "friends of strangers," 
" daughters of persuasion," and Venus was the patron 
deity of Corinth. So here was a fertile field for the 
Dithyramb to work upon. And the Cypselids were 
the tyrants of Corinth at this time, and had many 
great poets at their court. And it is said that the 
! great singer, Arion, was there among the rest, and the 
' first reformation of the Dithyramb is universally ascribed 

1 Schol. ad Pindar, Olymp. XIII. 25. 


to him. And what Arion is said to have done to 
the Dithyramb is this : he taught the dancers to use 
a slower movement, and to observe regular steps. And 
he substituted the Grecian Lyre for the foreign flute, as 
an accompaniment to the song. And doubtless he 
would eliminate the cymbals and the tambourines at 
the same time, and the gestures of the dancers he 
would likewise attend to, and try and introduce as 
far as possible some of the graceful attitudes of the 
Greek dances. But the reforms of Arion did not 
bear their full fruit for some time to come, for the 
Dithyramb had got a hold on the popular taste, and 
that too in its wild and rioting form, and was not 
so easily dislodged or brought under. Differing but 
little as we say from its primitive form, except that 
the cymbals and tambourines seem after a time to 
have gone out of fashion, and the steps of the 
dancers to have become somewhat more orderly. But 
the flute still remained as the instrument of the 
Dithyramb, despite the efforts of Arion to supplant 
it. And all the mirth and wild passion were there, 
the same as ever. And now it became a fashionable 
style of composition among the poets, and all the 
world began to write Dithyrambs. And first, in the 
gay city of Sicyon, which was another Corinth, comes 
the poetess, Praxilla, as a mistress of the Dithyramb., 
And in Sicyon the women were the handsomest of 
all Greece, and here the Dithyramb basked. 

And Sicyon was a most luxurious city, standing in 
the midst of groves of olives,^ and famous for its 
mines and its fisheries.^ And feminine influence had 

1 Teritur Sicyonia bacca trapetis. And cf. the account in Pliny of its 
olives and almond trees. 

2 It was "the mother of mines and of workmen," Pliny calls it. 


always been preeminently strong in Sicyon. And 
what the Sicyonian women were celebrated for was 
the beauty of their figures and the majesty of their 
deportment, while the Lesbian women, who were the other 
beauties of Greece, were of that style of beauty of 
which Sappho was a type. And the dances of these 
Sicyonian women must have been glorious to look 
upon, and to see them move in the free gestures of 
the Dithyramb — they must have been like so many 
Venuses walking the dance. And if the ascendancy 
of women is always a questionable sign in a people's 
life, it had here produced noble results, though in its 
usual direction. For the sensuous side of music had 
always held the upper hand in Sicyon, and here it 
was that the Cithara had wrapped itself in glorious 
tone, and first had played alone. And now another 
sensuous element in music first appeared at Sicyon, 
which was destined to play a large part in later art, 
and first we find it in the verses of Praxilla. And 
this element was Rhyme — the melody of Poetry, as 
Air is of Music. And Greek Art, enriched by this 
new element of beauty, which, however, its chastity 
made it always sparing in the use of, must always 
confess that it owes the beautiful adornment to the 
genius of a Sicyonian woman. And Praxilla sings, 
and, as we may expect, in the woman's measure, ^ 
time, and these are the Bacchic feet, 

avv jULOL TTi -v£, <TUv/j - €a, <Tv-ve-pa, av-aTi^cp-avr}- (popu, 

avv fiOL fiaL-vo-fxe-vuj fxai-vB-o, avv <T(v-(j>povi aw -(l>povet. 

" Drink with me, live with me, love with me, 
Be mad with me, be sad with me." 


And we have marked the rhymes with strokes under- 
neath them. 

£V Tav - ret Trv-e\-(J3 rov rt kukov tov t ayadov Xoei. 

And it will be seen that the rhyme is closest when 
it occurs at the beginning and end of the same bar, 
as, TOV T£ KUKov, but also still more marked perhaps 
to our ears, when it comes at the ends of two 
following bars, as, 

Ti/LL-av £v r£ l^poroTc, ev re ^eoia - iv /car' efxov voov. 
But here they cluster thicker : — i 

a VQ rav (iaXavov rdv fiev £^£i rdv o f'parai Xa€>a7v, 
Ka-y(jt) Traica (piXrjv Trjv fxlv ixity rriv o 'ipafxai Xa^eiv. 

What then must her complete Dithyrambs have been, 
when we find such charms in her fragments ! What 
interlacings of glorious rhymes and melody of words 
for those Sicyonian queens to sing, as they moved 
flushed yet graceful in the whirl of the dance ! And 
the most beautiful woman in Sicyon in Praxilla's 
time was Agarista, the daughter of Cleisthenes, the 
tyrant of Sicyon. And Cleisthenes made a pro- 
clamation at the Olympic games, that he would give 
his daughter in marriage to the worthiest of the Greeks. 
And suitors came from all parts of Greece to Sicyon, 
Epistrophus from Epidamnum, Leocedes from Argos, 

I Praxilla's Fragments in Bergk. I imagine they are in the collection of 
colia at the end, as all these are scolia. 


Megacles and Hippocleides, both Athenians, Onomastus 
from EHs, Lusanias from Eretria. and many more, 
and lastly, Smindyrides the Sybarite. And Smindyrides 
came in a galley of fifty oars, all manned by his 
own servants. And he brought a thousand servants 
in his train, fishermen, fowlers, and cooks among the 
number, for he had his own men to catch the fish 
for his dinners and to catch the birds, and would be 
content with no cooks but his own.^ And Smindy- 
rides, wishing to declare how happily he lived, said 
that for 20 years he had never seen the sun either 
rise or set, for he never went to bed till just before 
the break of day, and always slept till after sunset. 
And his clothes sparkled with gold and jewels. And 
when some one would have sat on the same couch 
with him at dinner, he said that he came there to 
share a couch with his wife, or to have it to himself 
(77 fierd Ti^g yvvaiKog rj fxovog KaTaKXidrjcrofievog). And 
they all made the best show they could, but eventually 
Cleisthenes fixed on Hippocleides as the worthiest ; 
and it was resolved that he should have the bride. 
And on the wedding day Hippocleides got a flute- 
player to play, and he danced before the company. 
And Cleisthenes was displeased at the exhibition, but 
Hippocleides had a table brought in, and then got on 
it, and danced on it. And at last he stood on his 
head on the table, and danced with his feet in the air. 
Cleisthenes said, " Son of Tisander, you have danced 
away your marriage." Hippocleides (without stopping 
his dancing) said, " It's all one to Hippocleides." 

These were the times and these were the men, and 
in other places besides Sicyon the women were far 

I See the accounts in Diodorus and Athenseus. 


above them.^ And still the Dithyramb raged. And 
Lasus of Hermione wrote Dithyrambs,* and so 
did Pindar. And Lasus conceived the idea of em- 
ploying a multitude of flutes to accompany the 
dithyramb, and he made them play runs and florid 
passages above the voices, in the style of the Archi- 
lochean accompaniment, but much more elaborate.^ 
And the Dithyramb swept round beneath this warbling 
arbour. And this was a style that Pindar learnt 
from him, but his severer taste would not often 
increase the flutes to such numbers, or allow them 
such licence of melody. And Simonides, and Bacchy- 
lides, and Stesichorus, and Ibycus, and all the choral 
poets wrote Dithyrambs in the fashion of the day. 
And the Dithyramb, that had raged in Corinth and 
in Sicyon, now raged in earnest at Syracuse, where 
all the great choral poets were assembled at the 
glittering court of Hiero. And now there came an 
invitation from Hiero himself to Pindar, that he 
would attend his court in Syracuse. 

He found the court keeping high holiday, all men 
conspiring to adore Ceres with the pink feet,^ who 
was the goddess of the place, and the god of the 
Dithyramb and the grape, in tempests of wine and 

1 The writer would not be understood as making any hasty or ill-considered 
statement here. The luxury of the age was something amazing. But he is 
not forgetful of other things, and perhaps jElian will be his best defender — 
ol TToXaL ^ABr]valoL aXovpyr\ i]fnru-)(ovTO Ifxaria TroiKiXovg ol 
hvi^vvov xiriovac, ' Kopvju^ovg Se ava^ovfJ.Evoi rwv rpixiov 
XpvcTOvg evetpovreg avrdig TiTTiyag kclI Koafxov aWov irpoo' 
derov TnpLaTTTOfievot xpvaov Trpoyeaav ' Koi crKkaBiag avrolg 
di(j)povg ot iratdtg v7ri(b£pov "iva /xrj KadiZaxnv kavTovg tiKij 
Koi ojg '^TV\£. ' S^Xov St oTi Koi 17 TpdireKa rjv avroTg koi ri 
XoiTrrj ^laira a^poripa' t o i ovt ot Be ovreg rrjv ev 
Mapadiovi fid \r}v IviKricrav. 

2 Clemens. Stromateis, I. 

2 rri av\(ov Tro\v((>iovia KaraKoXovOijcrag TrXetocri re 
(pOojyoig KOL dieppifx/Jiivoig \pr\adfiivog, Plut. De Mus. 29. 



music; with Simonides for the master of the Dithyramb, 
and next to him Bacchylides, who sang so potently 
the joys of drinking ; and Phrynis, that rose from a 
cook to a courtier ; and those arch-revellers, ^schylus 
and Epicharmus, who drank pottle deep eternally. 
" There's no dithyramb," roars Epicharmus, " if you 
drink water." '^ And .^schylus always wrote his plays 
when he was drunk, so that Sophocles said of him, 
£1 Kat iroiu ToL ^eovra aXX ovk eidivg ye, " He is in blissful 
unconsciousness of what he's doing." These were the 
company that Pindar found assembled, and what with 
drunken Bacchylides, and drunken yEschylus, and 
drunken Epicharmus, there was a court-full. 

And they made their potations in royal wines, red, 
white, and yellow, the wines of Etna, or those royal 
wines of Sybaris, that ran in great pipes, two riiiles 
and more, from the vineyards in the country to the 
city. And if it was hard drinking, it was none the 
less musical drinking, for all the toasts were drunk 
to a musical accompaniment, and the toast to Good 
Fortune, which opened the revel,^ we will particularly 
j describe. For a great cup was filled with wine, and 
there was a flute-girl ready to give the sign when 
to begin. And when she began to play, the king of 
the revel raised the cup to his lips, and it was passed 
round from hand to hand, and so contrived that the 
last man should have finished it when the flute came 
to an end of its tune. And now not only were the toasts 
drunk in musical measure, but the wine and water 
were mixed in musical proportions.^ For the Greeks 

^ OWK k(TTl ^iBvpalbL^OC; OKX' vddop TTLVrjQ- 
2 Plutarch's Symposiacs, VII. 8. ' 

; Plutarch. Symposiac Questions, III. 9. KadcLTTsp yap 01 Trepi 
Avpav KavoviKoi riov Aoywv (paat tov fxlv rjfxioXiov, etc., 

0\jTU)g 01 TTEpi TOV Al6vV(T0V apfXOVlKOt. 


never drank their wine pure, as we do, but always 
mixed with water. And the wine and water were 
mixed before the revel began, and they were mixed, 
as we said, in the musical ratios, being mixed either 
in the Pseonic Ratio, 3 : 2, 3 parts of water to 2 of 
wine (\6yog rifJiioXiog), or in the Iambic Ratio, 2 : i> 

2 parts of water to i of wine (Xoyog dnrXdaiog), 
but never in the forbidden ratio, \6yog Tpnr\d<nog, 3:1, 

3 of water to i of wine, for this was considered 
v^aprig, "watery stuff," and "only fit for frogs," 
(^arpaxotg oivoxoeTv. And the old song gives us these 
proportions, for it says : 

17 TrivTS TTLVHV T] TpC rj fxrj TiTTapay 
" Drink fives or threes, but never fours." ^ 
And the king of the revel decided the proportions 
beforehand, and ladled out the wine and the water 
from the pitchers and flagons into the bowl accord- 
ingly, from whence it was distributed to the company. 
And sometimes, if he were a sturdy toper, he would 
make the company suffer for his sins, for he would 
insist on that other Musical Ratio, the Dactylic, 
(Xoyog iaog), 2 : 2, half and half, which was considered 
terribly strong,^ and which few heads could stand, as 
that revel master in Athenseus' Banquet, " that was not 
a revel master but a revel monster, for he made us 
drink 20 cups of half and half — Kvddovg -n-poiriviov HKomv 
'icFov to-tij — and then roared out that he was going 
to make it stronger still." And the revel master had 
the right of decreeing the proportions of the mixture, 
as we say, and also the manner of the drinking — 
whether it should be airvevaTi, or not aTrveuo-ri, 
that is, whether each cup should be emptied at one 

1 Plautus. Stichus. 

2 kdv 8' 1.<Tov i'trtj) Trpocrtjtipy fiaviav Troid. 


draught, or whether it should be drunk at leisure. And 
the first was always the favourite method ; and 
probably there was some connection between the music 
and the drinking in this too, which we are not 
particularly informed of, for very likely the object of 
the a7rv£V(TTi drinking was that each cup might be 
emptied within some given snatch of melody,^ and he 
who was behindhand had to pay forfeit. And the 
enormity of the potations may often amaze us. 
Alexander the Great could drink a gallon and a half at 
a sitting, and ^Eschylus, according to all accounts, was 
not far behind him.^ 

But meanwhile we must hear Bacchylides singing the 
joys of drinking, or that other revel song, that is more 
uproarious than his : " Let us drink," runs the revel 
song, "and souse our hearts in royal liquor. Why 
should we put out the light, even though the day has 
dawned ? Bring out bigger bowls, and bigger still, and 
foam them up with the blood of the grape ; the day's 
before us, and the liquor unending ; and each fresh 
draught shall make us forget the one that has gone 
before. "3 And here is the song of Bacchylides : " Oh ! 
Bacchus," sings Bacchylides, "how do your swingeing 
draughts inflame the toper's heart ! What royal hopes 
and fancies run coursing through his breast ! Beneath 
your royal empire he flings his cares to the winds. 
With a thought he hurls down the battlements of towns, 

1 I imagine this from such passages as this, e.g., in Plutarch's Sympo- 
siacs, where m consequence of an agreement having been come to that each 
man shouW drink as he pleased, ^i^oKvai Trjv avXrjrpiSa xaipuv eqv. 
I think there is a similar passage in Plato's Erotics, but am not sure. 

2 It was 2 xoeg that Alexander could drink. I forget where I have 
seen this statement, and I don't think it is in Arrian. These drinking customs 
that prevailed at present in Greek life were probably due in a great measure to 
Persian influences. The Persians were great drinkers, as Darius, who was 
content to have for his epi'aph, HAYNAMHN KAI OINON 
K A A Q S " and carry it well." 

3 Seleucus in Athenseus. 


and in fancy he is monarch of the world. His hous 
glitters with gold and ivory, and corn-bearing ships 
come across the glancing main for him, bringing royal 
wealth from Egypt. So soars the heart of the 
drinker."'^ And he that would have the pedigree of the 
revel, let him go to drunken Epicharmus. " For 
first comes the Sacrifice, and the Sacrifice is the father 
of the banquet, and the banquet is the father of the 
revel, and the revel is the father of lasciviousness, etc., 
etc." And so he goes on mapping out the family 
tree of wine. 

And when the revel was over, they would go 
scouring about the streets with torch - bearers and 
flute-players, making the city echo to their songs. 

This was the riotous side of Bacchanalian Music. 
But there is a finer and more aesthetic side of it, 
which yet remains for us to consider. For the 
Sicilians, and particularly those of Syracuse, are well 
known as the inventors of that excellent Musical 
Game, the Cottabos, which had such a popularity in 
Sicily, that there were houses built like our racquet 
courts and fives courts for playing it in. But it was 
also played in private houses, and generally before 
the beginning of the revel, when hands were steady 
and brains clear, and the ear could distinguish the 
delicate modulations of sound, in making which the 
art of the play consisted. For we have heard of 
the music of water, and surely there can be no finer 
or purer sound than the rippling of a brook in the 
night time when all the world is still, or the plash 
of pebbles dropt into water in solitary places. But 
now we are to hear of the music of wine, for the 
Cottabos was a Love game, and consisted in throwing 
wine from a distance into a metal basin. And then 


I Fragment 27 in Bergk. 


you must listen to how it splashed. And he 
that made the fullest and purest sound with his wine 
against the metal basin was held to be the winner, 
and most likely to have success with his mistress. 
What delicate ears to distinguish all the faint 
variations of timbre ! And who shall say whether 
the Pramnian wine did not ^\v^ a crisper plash than 
the Chian wine, or the wine of Lesbos have more 
body in its tone than the Thasian wine? And this 
is how the Cottabos was played : there was a line 
drawn on the floor which the players toed, and at 
some distance there was a large marble basin full 
of water, in which the small metal basin floated that 
was the mark, and each player held a cup of wine 
in his hand to throw when his turn came. And shall 
we catch them in the act? And it is easy to do 
so. For we have a whole Cottabos scene in Plato, 
the Comic Poet^ "All the guests have finished 
dinner. Come, remove the tables, and bring water for 
them to wash their hands in, and get the floor swept. 
And then we'll have the Cottabos." "Are the girls 
ready with the flutes, for we are about to begin to 
play, and they must accompany us ? Come pour 
some perfume in the wine, and meanwhile I will go 
distribute garlands among the guests." " Now the 
libation is over, and the Scolium has been sung, and 
everybody is ready, and the Cottabos is about to 
begin. And here's the girl with her flutes striking 
up a Carian song, and another girl will be here with a 
Sambuca in a moment to join her." And now the players 
have toed the line, and they begin throwing in turn, and 
as each threw, he pronounced the name of his mistress. 
" Here's for Glycera ! " " This one for Scione ! " " This 

I It is the scene, avdpsg ^edenrvrjKuai, etc. 


for Callistium ! " " Here goes for Phanostrata ! " 
" And how do they manage to throw it so cleverly, 
and how do they hold it?" asks the novice in 
Antiphanes. "Why, you must crook your fingers 
round the cup, like a flute-player holds his fingers 
round his flute ; then pour in a little wine, not much. 
And then let fly." "Yes, but how?" "Why, look 
here — this way." " Oh, Poseidon ! What a height you 
throw it!" 

And it must have been thrown to a great height, 
in order to make a loud ringing sound in the basin — 
something more than a mere splash. And the art 
consisted in keeping your wine well together in the 
air, for if it shook out into a sheet, it would obviously 
produce a very flat and commonplace tone in the 
basin, and some of it might fall over the sides into 
the water, which was in all cases to be avoided. And 
sometimes the Cottabos was played for prizes, which 
in their way were a sort of earnest of the favours 
that were held to await the winner. For the prize in 
Athenseus' Banquet was 3 ribbons, 5 apples, and 9 
kisses. And kisses were the usual prize, it seems, for 
a guest in Cratinus, coming late to a banquet, is made 
to say, " Holloa ! I hear the sound of kissing, so I 
suppose the conqueror of the cottabos is getting his 
prize." Nor must we forget the humourous side of the 
Cottabos. For the butt in yEschylus says: "Eurymachus 
used to treat me shamefully. My head was his 
cottabos, at which he directed all his wine. It was 
for the benefit of my head that he flourished his 
hand and showed off his crack throwing." 

These were the pleasantries and revelries and some 
of the graceful doings of the time, and we see how 
Music insinuated itself into all of them. And 
yet now among these revellers and cottabos-players 


we shall find Greek music carried to its very highest 
point of perfection ; for, as we shall see, these were 
the days of its glory, and its course hereafter will be 
but the adaptation or reapplication under new con- 
ditions of the results which are now arrived at. And 
perhaps it was the very looseness and licence of the 
times that gave men new spirit in the treatment of 
music, and encouraged them to break through the 
old traditions and old forms, which, however vener- 
able and admirable they may be, must nevertheless 
be periodically broken through, if the development of 
the art is to continue advancing. And now although 
it were fair to pay equal honour to all the great 
choral poets of Sicily, whom the Greeks indeed rank 
on an equality of greatness, yet it must be by Pindar 
that we chiefly judge them, for his works are alone 
preserved to us in entire portions, who was also the 
greatest of them all in completeness and elaborateness 
of beauty, though he may have fallen short of others 
in the origination of forms and passion of expression. 
And the Music of Pindar, like that of the rest, is 
founded on the Dithyramb. And it now remains for 
us to consider what has been the effect of the 
Dithyramb on the Choral Style, since we last con- 
sidered that Style under the tutelage of Stesichorus. 
What has been the effect of that wild dance, with 
its mad motions and restless tossings of the feet, that 
since then has impressed its influence on the Choruses ? 
And it is plain that the effect of the Dithyramb on 
the Choral Style would be to disorder its chastity, 
and make it wayward and unsteady and passionate. 
And we found that the Choral Style was at first 
principally recastings of the old Hexameter. And 
then how other feet crept gradually in. And this 
intrusion of other feet is an instance of Dithryambic 



influence. The introduction of the Bacchic feet plainly 
enough. And of the other new feet, for this reason, 
that the Dithyramb admitted the utmost licence of 
treatment, and all feet might gain an ingress, because 
novelty and, if we may say it, sensationalism of 
expression were courted and desired in the Dithyramb, 
while repressed and kept in rigorous check in that 
older and severer choral style that was founded on the 
Hexameter. And we must lay down this as the 
first instance of Dithyrambic influence, the free intro- 
duction of heterogeneous feet into the same piece, and 
even into the same line. And it is plain what the 
effect of this would be on the music, for many of 
these feet being in different time, there would necessarily 
ensue constant changes of time throughout the piece. 
Time got now to be played with as Accent had 
used to be by Sappho and the Lesbians, and if her 
forcings and changes of Accent gave the colour and 
distinctive characteristic to the Systaltic Style of 
Music, changes of Time and forcings of Time gave 
the characteristic to the Diastaltic Style of Music, 
which is the style that has now sprung up by the 
influence of the Dithyramb on the Choruses, and is 
the style which now remains for us to consider. 

In this way we have got to the third of the Three 
Styles, which we mentioned some time ago in this 
book. And the first was the Hesychastic, or Tranquil 
Style, which was the style of Homer and the bards, 
and endured till the time of Archilochus. And every 
piece was written in regular feet, and the Accent was 
uniform throughout. And the second was the Sys- 
taltic, or Thrilling Style, in which to procure passion 
of expression the Accent was continually forced 
throughout the piece, longs made to clash with longs, 
and shorts with shorts, and much vehemence and 


emotion infused into musical expression by this means. 
And now comes the Diastaltic, or Violent Style, which 
was but a carrying out of the same principle, although 
it was introduced from another quarter, and the Time, 
not only the Accent, was forced and changed through- 
out the piece, as we shall presently show. And we 
may lay down this as perhaps the leading, or at any 
rate the most pronounced characteristic of the 
Diastaltic Style — continual and reiterated change of 
Time. And this is the style that had sprung from 
the influence of the Dithyramb on the Choruses. 
And this continual Change of Time that characterises 
it, is known in Greek Music by the name of Metabole,i 
and we will now give an instance of it. 


Tovg T£ Xev-iir - - Trovg Ko-povg 

TSK- va MoXt o -vac Kxa-vov 

aX - i -Kag I- (TO-K£(l)-a-Xovg ev - i - yvi-ovg 
ufx-^o -ri - povg y^ya- - w - rag hv w - I - w 
op --yu-pe -to. 

I For the various forms of Metabole see Bacchius Senior's Eisagoge, p. 13. 
Bacchius, however, commits the error of includinpf Sappho's Antithesis among 
1 1 2 Fragment 6 in Bergk. 


history of music. 

' |:73W= JlJ-t^S^^^ J=^ 

_ w _ _ 




\J — KJ 


WW \J KJ \J \J WW 


And this is a fragment of Ibycus that we have given, 
and we shall see that in it there are 5 Metaboles in 
the first 5 bars, and another between the last bar ] 
and the second last. And this is by no means an 
exceptional instance, for often they come thicker than 
this, and as we advance in our acquaintance with 
the Diastaltic Style, we shall have need of all our 
knowledge of Feet, and still more of our knowledge 
of Phrasing, in order to clear the ground for us. 
For in order to be in strict Greek Musical Form, 
this piece ought to be phrased as well as barred, 
and we will now phrase it accordingly, in order that 
we may show its contour better. 


the greeks. 


> Is 

— W — — — yj — 

fl-J-w^y^ J-fM-^^J^-l 

— vj VJ __ 

VJ _ w _ 

\J \J \J KJ \J \J _WW _ 

\J \J \J \J \J KJ WW ___ 


\l^j ^'^ 

— w w _« 


— V> — — — yj — 

- vy ^ - 

w _ w _ 

WW wwww — WW — — 

_WW wwww — WW — .— 



w w _ 



And the first phrase is a ttovq ETrirptroc, or simple 
Epitrite bar, which indeed can never be joined with 
another bar to form a irovg avvderog, or Real Phrase, 
but must always be phrased alone. And the second 
phrase is a irovg cKjvvderog TraiayviKog — likewise a simple 
bar (aavvdaTog), and not in the present instance joined 
to another Bar of similar diaeresis, so as to form 
a TToiig avvderog, or Real Phrase. But the third phrase 
is a Real Phrase, being a irovg (rvvOerog ^aKTvXiKog ow- 
deKacrrifxog, or Dactylic Phrase of 12 notes, since it admits 

the diaeresis, 6+6, J J^JJ+ JJ ••' 

which gives the Dactylic ratio, i : i. And here it will 
be noticed that we have phrased a Bacchius and a 

Diiamb together, one in ^ time and the other in g 

which we allowed to pass for a Metabole a moment 
ago. But we must now correct that looseness of 
permission, since we learnt by the doctrine of 

the Epiploce of Feet that the ^ feet and the ^ feet 

suffer Metathesis, that is, they are convertible without 
the occurrence of a Metabole, and this is why we 
have phrased them together. Since had there been a 
Metabole proper, we must have used greater caution, 
for there are only a very few phrases, and these of 
rare occurrence, which admit a Metabole into their 
composition.! And the next phrase is a Trovg avvOerog 
BaKTvXiKog EKKatSlKao-rjjuoe, or Dactylic Phrase of 
16 notes, since it admits the diaeresis, 8 + 8, 

J J'J'] J^-^^ M + J J'J'IJ J L which eives 


the Dactylic ratio, i : i. And the next Phrase is the 
same. And the next Phrase, if we follow Aristoxenus, 

"^ Viz. the TTovg iraiMviKog demcfn/jiog and the irovg 
TraiojviKog T^craapaKai^eKaaiqiuog. 



is the same, of a different value, being a Trove avvBtrog 
^aKTvXiKog k^dar]/xog, or Dactylic Phrase of 6 notes, 

since it admits the diaeresis, 3 + 3, J «( + J^ J» 

which likewise gives the Dactylic ratio, 1:1. But to 
call this Bacchius bar a Phrase, is peculiar to Aris- 
toxenus, and we shall not always do so. Most 
theorists would treat it as a simple bar. In this way 
has this passage of Ibycus been phrased. 

Now a little before this time it had happened, that 
Stesichorus, who gloried in the marshalling of mighty 
choruses and the evolutions of great bodies of dancers, 
had devised a new movement in the motions of the 
chorus, which was destined to take a permanent place 
in Greek Orchestic, and to exercise a very remark- 
able influence on Greek Musical Form. For whereas 
movements of the chorus had hitherto been limited to 
two in number, the Turn and the Counter-Turn 
{Strophe and Antistrophe), or in that majestic and 
martial style of dance which Stesichorus loved, we 
had better translate it, the March and the Counter- 
March, although the same terms, Strophe and Antistrophe^ 
were used of these too, Stesichorus, I say, whose 
evolutions were mighty and elaborate, and whose 
poems were so long that they would take hours to 
sing, invented a new movement, or rather shall we 
call it a periodical halt? between each pair of 
evolutions, that so he might give his dancers rest; 
and at the end of each Strophe and Antistrophe 
he contrived what he called an Epode, which was 
sung by the Chorus standing still. And at the end 
of the Epode they would March and Countermarch 
again, or Turn and Counterturn, and so on to the 
, Epode again, when they would stand still and sing, 
preparatory to commencing the next pair of marches 


or turns. And this was Stesichorus' contrivance for 
giving regular rests to his dancers. So now there 
were three movements of the Chorus, if we may call 
a halt a movement ; there was the Strophe, the 
Antistrophe, and the Epode — in the first two the 
Chorus was in motion, in the last at rest. And in 
order to give variety to this last movement, which 
wanted it so much, he made the complexion of the 
song somewhat different in the Epode to what it 
had been in the Strophe and Antistrophe. For 
whereas the Antistrophe exactly repeated the Strophe, 
the Epode was made a variation on the Strophe, 
though always sufficiently near to let the hearers feel 
that it was in all strictness a variation, and not a 
new tune. 

So that if we take those Strophes of Stesichorus 
which we have given before in our book, " TJie sun 
has sunk into his golden cup" from our knowledge of 
the character of this innovation of his, and from the 
practice of succeeding poets, we may make shift to 
add an Epode to it, and so approximate it to the 
form in which it was perhaps originally sung. And 
the writer of this book having observed that the first 
line of many Epodes is a repetition of the last line 
of the Antistrophe, will not forget that knowledge in 
his construction of the following Epode. 


j j^j'^' j -j%^ j nm j n si j ^ ^j j j 

\J \J \J \J \J \J \J KJ \J \J 

— \J \J \J \J \J \J \J \J 

• ->/ 




\J \J — \J \J _WW _VJV> _WW _-_ 

WV^_WW ___ _-WW \J \J 

— \J \J —. \J \J 



.WW _ _ 

yj \j _ww _ww WW _ww 

VyW WW WW \J \J \J \J _ 

\J \J WW __ WW WW 

_ W W WW 







Or shall we take those Strophes of Ibycus, and 
furnish them with an Epode in like manner? 



■^ r 


w _ w _ 


WW WWWW \J \J «-_ 

THE GkEEKS. . 283 


— W — — — W — 

[j-J-,^JsJ | fl ^ ^j j. ^^ 

— r\ n — 

— r\ n — 





WW w w 


www www 


Now what is it that shines on us directly we stand 
face to face with this wonderful invention of Stesichorus ? 
Or what is that form of composition, that consists 
of a Period, and a Repeated Period, and Variations 
on that Period ? Is it not the Modem Sonata that 
consists of these three divisions^ — with only this dif- 
ference, that in the Sonata the Variations come between 
the Period and its Repeat, while with Stesichorus 
they came after? And the Symphony, the glory of 
Modern Europe, precisely the same, being the same 
in Form as the Sonata, and reposing upon as unknown 
and obscure an original. Why, by the way we talk of 
these pomps and prides of modern days, one might 
think that they had sprung from the egg of Ormazd, 
or self-create of nothing into being. Yet here we find 
them fore-shadowed and foreknown in the divine art 
of Stesichorus, It is like indeed that Stesichorus 
struck out a mighty secret of musical Form, to which 
all Music was destined again and again to gravitate. 
Yet who shall say, that at the Renaissance of Modern 
Europe, the works of the Greek Lyric Poets, being 
principally constructed in the Strophe, Antistrophe, 
and Epode of Stesichorus,^ did not insensibly operate 
on the thoughts of the cultivated musicians of those 
days, and lead men gradually to that form of writing, 
which no one knows whence it came, or how it got 
among us. And on this point the writer of this 
book, through want of a minute study of Renaissance 
Music, can at present offer no definite opinion, but 
will content himself Math saying, that the Sonata and 
Symphony Form was certainly known to the Greeks 
two thousand years before it was known to us, or 

1 Naturally, I am speakinj^ of the ist movement of the Sonata, which 
contains the true Sonata Form. 

2 It was called the Triad of Stesichorus. 


that the Sonata is indeed a phoenix that has risen 
spontaneously from its ashes, but before we gazed it, 
it was hatched in the Temple of the Sun. 

And he will go on immediately to offer far more 

elaborate examples of formal structure than these, from 

the writings of Pindar, and then the ear will better 

judge how undoubted is the genealogy ; but first he 

will endeavour to explain, why the Greek Form had 

its Repeated Period in the middle and its Modulations 

or Variations at the end, while we have our Repeated 

Period at the end and our Variations in the middle. 

And he thinks that this was the reason : for since 

the Variations of the Song belonged to the Rest, or 

! Halt, and it is the Movements of a Dance that we 

are considering, it is plain that the Rest, or Epode, 

j must always have come last of the three, or otherwise 

! there would have been an end, and yet no end, and 

the figure of the dance would have been ungainly 

broken in the middle, by the Rest coming between 

the Strophe and the Antistrophe. And this is the 

reason why in the Greek times, the Variation Periodj 

i which occupied the time of the Rest, must necessarily 

i have come at the end of the Period and its Repeat, 

and not between them, as we make it do. But 

directly the Music was divorced from the Dancing, 

there was no longer any absolute necessity governing 

[j the arrangement of the Numbers, and they might fall 

into what arrangement they pleased. And he thinks 

that this is the reason of the difference. And since 

the Repeated Period has in modern times, at least, 

I always observed a strict repeat in the matter of key, 

H repeating in the same key as the opening period,^ 

I He is necessarily speaking vaguely here, from a wish not to go into any 

A elaborate treatment of the subject, and he does not mention the transposition 

ij oi the latter half of the ist Period, or its previous difference in keyfromthe ist 

half, conceiving that the Opening Subject may well be taken to typify the 

whole Period in the ist Exposition, as in the Repeat it rules it completely. 


it was natural that the change of key should occur 
in the Variations, which thus necessarily . got to come 
in the middle, so that the key the piece opened with 
might re-occur to end it. With the Greeks, on the 
contrary, he thinks, from certain passages of Aristotle, 
on which he has made a note at the end of this 
Book, that after the addition of the Epode the Anti- 
strophe began to be sung on another key to the 
Strophe, probably on the 4th above, on the same 
degree, that is, which the Lyre Accompaniment had 
been travelling in the Strophe. And this might very 
well occur, because the Antistrophe was the Middle 
Period of the three, and then the Epode reverted to 
the key of the Strophe, and so ended the complete 
Movement on the same key that it had begun with. 
And here is another analogy to our modern method 
of structure. But on this point, so obscure and 
questionable is the evidence, he will not state his 
opinion in its completeness, nor will he venture to 
intrude that opinion on the faith of the reader. 
>. And now we will delay no longer to go to the 
writings of Pindar, and bring forward those of them 
which seem likely to show off the best results of 
Greek Art at the period of which we are writing, 
which was the Master Period of its history. And 
Pindar walked pure and beautiful amid the riot- 
ousness of his surroundings, and his music is like 
a stately orchard in its prime, in whose shades we 
may see Maenads and Bacchantes playing, but they 
are too far away for us to hear the noise of their 

And the first piece we will take will be his ist 
Olympian, and we shall notice Dithyrambic influences 
in the free play of the feet, and particularly in the 
Metaboles towards the end. And the Rhythm is 


yEolian, that is, it has a preponderance of Iambuses, 
Trochees, and the light Cyclic Dactyls, And the 
Dorian Lyre for the accompaniment. 

Strophe. i^t Period. 

ft ^ ^ f4-^— »H-^-^-F8-i>-^-F-^-i^F-J— ^-^-[4-^— i^H 

a-^Ld - -Tov fievv -§wp 6 St ■)(^pv-(t6q al-do-fxe - vov irvp 
a-re St - air-pe- - tth vvk-tl jueya-vopog 'iE, - o^a ttXovtov ' 


SI ^\ a-sd-Xa jya-Qv-ev 
eX-Se- - ai, (jiiXov ri- TOp, 

a i Nf 1 hl^ I NjJ 

jUT] -K£0' aX - I - Ol» (TKOTrei 

aX-Xo ^oXttvo - T£pov Iv afi - i - pa <l>a - evvov 

ha rp - ov Iprj - juag Bi al - 9e - pog. 

fxr]o - XvfiTTL - ag a - yiova ' (pipripov-ah - BaaofXiv, 

o - aev 6 TTO -Xv -0a -roc t^A* - voc a/i - 0t -€«X - Xerat 
^ ^ Dochmiiises. 

J ,^ !_!/-_ In ^ K I J Xo-yoc OKxacmiiog. 

*— *-*-t^-*-*-*=*-^ .y^./r«. /. JJ5. 
(To^tJv fXT} - Ti - ecr - <n KeXaS-eiv 


Kpn-voviraiB' kg acp-ve-av l-KO-fxi-vovQ 

fiUK-a t pav I-l - - pw -vog ea- ri-av, 

A NT I STROPHE. Repeated Period. 

^e-fiia - rei-ov og afx - ^£-7r£t aKair-TOv iv ttoXu- /xaX-Xa> 

St-K£-Xt- a ^pl-TTWv jLt£v Kopv(f)dg a-p£-Tav otTTO Traerav 

B ^ isf i .Nf^ I N I q 
a-y- Xa- -"/- -^£ - - rat Si Koi 

fiovai- - Kag Iv a - co - ra> 

oT - a Trai-^o - - fxev (j)i\av 

I This bar is a licence which the writer will sometimes take, for the sake of I 
showing off the intimate affinity of the two bars in that favourite consecution 
of Trochee and Paeon which so often occurs, and which but for this device 
there would be no means of coupling together — for there is no phrasing them 
together. He will call it a Palindochmius, and although Seidler does not i 
notice it, he imagines it is none the less a form of Dochmius, and will treat it i 
as such. For a splendid example, see Sophocles' Ajax. 418. 

THE GREEKS. .. 289 

av-^peg a/x - (jtl ^a - fxa rpa- -7r£-^av. aX- \a Aw-pi- 

av a - TTO (pop-- fivy- ya Truer - aa-\ov 

Xflju €av', a Ti rot Tli-aaQ re Kat $£p£v-i - -"'kou T^a-ptp 

vo-ov v-TTO ykv-Kv- TCi-raiQ W - rj - -ks ((>pov-Ti-<nv, 

o K I I ^ I F^ N S h M 
6- TETTap' AA-^E-w av-TO oefxag 

§ h I ! Nf I N I F K N N ^ 1 

a- kIv - rrj - rov ev dpo-fiOL - crt Vap- e-^wv 

fi > I N K NFo I ^ I N Ifl 
Kpd-TH Si 7rp o-o-f - /.tt - ^£ Secr-Tro-rav 

Epode. Variations. 

(Imitating the last line of Antistrophe.) 

[Sii-pa-KO(T- t - ov tTT -TTO-^ap- /tttV j3a- (Tt- Xr}- a. Aayit- 

I fN I Nil 
TTU Se ot kXe-oc 




tv £u - av- 6 -pi Av- cov DeX-o- wog air- oi- ki- a, 


row /xty- acr -0£v- rjf Ip- aa - era -ro yai - a - o -X^? 


^^ I i»» I f3 r?N ^f ! Nt 1 sf ,TNNf I '>] 

no(T-£t-Sav,t7r-£i viv Kau-a- pov \e- brj-roc f s -£- Ae KAw-aw 
I laviboids. 

N 1> N f IS I f K ^ l> f 
eX - £ -(^av - r\ (pai- ci -fxov (h/Li 



ft— ^- 



_ ,s 

_ \_ 


ICE - 













fj 3-aw -/ia -ra ttoX- Aa, icat ttou tj /cat ^po-rlliv fl 

Is s h l^^^ K I F I Is I 1 

<^a -rtv /'- TTEp Tov «- Aa - %y\ Ao-yov 

N'T I is 1 I IT K Is I K I J3 iT^ Sf i Nf I NB 
^i^ai-SaX-jutvoi \pev-^£(nTrot-KiXoig i^-an-a- tCjv-tl fxv-Boi. 

And here what we particularly notice is the 
structure of the Epode. And we have said that the ist 
line of the Epode is generally an imitation of the last 
line of the Antistrophe. But in the present case we 
may also regard it as an imitation of the ist line of the 
Strophe. For it partakes in a manner of both. For 
its first half is an exact repetition of the last line 
of the Antistrophe — though, by the way that we have 


slightly altered the phrasing, it may not appear so to 
the eye. For it exactly repeats it all but the two 
last notes, and there it breaks off into a new rhythm 
for which reason we have been compelled to write 
the Dochmius bar of the Antistrophe as a Paeonic 
bar in the Epode, because it is not carried to its 
full conclusion. But let us now see how it repeats : — 

Last line of Antistrophe. 

Qiwi svK'oi ■ sir s'l 

1st line of Epode. 

And now that we write the 3rd Bar of the Epode as 
a Dochmius bar, which we are at liberty to do, for 

it contains the same elements as a ^ bar and a ^ 

bar, in which form we at first wrote it, we may see 
how perfect is the repetition. For it repeats exactly 
note for note, till the last two notes of the Antistrophe 
line, and then it breaks off, but only to carry on the 
repetition more perfectly, for it repeats the whole of 
the Dochmius bar of the Antistrophe twice over, and 
thus is there most beautiful repetition. 

But we have said that it is also a repetition of the 
1st line of the Strophe. And here we had better 
use the word, Imitation, instead of repetition, for the 
repetition is not so close as in the instance we have 
just been considering. And placing the ist line of 
the Epode and the 1st line of the Strophe side by side, 
we shall see that a very close repetition extends to the 
end of the first half of the line, but after that it is 
rather loose imitation : 



1st line of Strophe. 

1^ 1^ M 1^ M I Wl 1^ 

1st line of Epade. 

where, by divesting it of its trappings of phrasing, we 
shall see that the imitation is very close indeed between 
the two, such as would strike the ear most certainly, 
but not the eye so much, as we wrote them before. 
And in the second parts of the lines we see an instance 
of Imitation by Contrary Motion, or Inverse Imitation. 
And this is a thing which often happens, that one 
phrase, or pair of Phrases, or bar it may be, imitates 
another by Contrary Motion. So artfully is the 
rhythm constructed. And instances of this are num- 
berless. Since let us take an example from this 
present piece. And taking the three concluding lines 
of the Strophe, we shall find what artful symmetry 
pervades them, and how they employ both styles of 
Imitation, both Direct Imitation and Imitation by 
Contrary Motion, as we may see by placing them 
close together : — 

w _ _ w _ 

I 23X45 67 

w _ _ w _ w _ 

www — 

8 9 10 II 

w w w _ 

w — www — W — w_ 

II 10 98 76543 

Where we have the Figure, w_www_, exactly 
repeated in different positions in each of the 3 lines, 
but in the last line we have inverted the numbers, 
for the purpose of showing off the piece of Imitation 
by Contrary Motion of which it forms a part. Now 
might I bring forward countless instances of this from 


■ the writings of Pindar, and there are others to be 
found in this very poem. And these are • the ■ arts, no 
doubt, that Pindar learnt from Lasus, who was a master 
of finesse and hidden dehcacy of structure. But there 
is a more remarkable exemplification of this method 
of treatment by Contrary Motion, which stands out as 
almost a canon of Pindar's art. For not only do we 
find numerous phrases so ■ treated here and there in 
his poems, but the First Line of every Poem is as a 
rule, I will not say always, but as a rule constructed 
in such a manner, that it may be read the same 
either backwards or forwards. ^ Since let us take the 
first line of this poem we are considering, and we 
shall find that it is so, with only one slight licence 
which prevents a perfect inversion : 







\J • — — \J \J — \J I \J \J \J 







And from the ist long, where the circles begin, to 
the end, it is indifferent whether we read the line 
backwards or forwards, for in either case it 
is the same. And in the first syllable, which we have 
marked off j from the rest, he has used the licence 
of the Optional Syllable, or Anacrusis, as it is called, 
and applied this licence to his inversion, whereby 
he gains a complete inversion, by treating the ist 
syllable hypermeter. 

And we may give other examples of this practice 

I This is sometimes extended to the Epode. 



of treatment of the opening line. And in the 2nd 
Olympian it is the same : — 

KJ \J \J — \J 

I \ > I 

And in the 3rd Olympian the same :- 







with a common syllable in the middle. 

And in the 2nd Pythian the same only with the 

and also with a common syllable in the middle. 
And in the 5th Pythian the same, with the Anacrusis, 

\J '. w _ w 

I In Bockh's reading. 


And in the 7th Pythian the same, 






\j — \j \j 

1 V 

— > 

— \j 



And in the 

Bth Pythian 




- \j — 



1 ( 

! 1 r- 
\j — \j 

\j - 

And in the 

[2th Pythian 

: — 


with the Anacrusis and the common syllable. 
And the 8th Olympian : — 

— \j \j \j — \j \j \j — 

And the 9th Olympian, and the nth Pythian, and 
instances of it are too numerous to mention, all 
having their ist line so constructed that it may be 
read the same, backwards or forwards. And finding 
this art of construction, and also the numberless 


imitations, both direct and by contrary motion, in 

the body of the odes, we may say Greek Music is 

indeed the Counterpoint of Rhythm, and what the Middle 

Ages did for Melody, the Greeks did for Rhythm. 

And the applicability of such a description of the 

Greek Music will be more apparent, when we shall 

have completed our study of the works of Pindar. 

And now having given an example of the ^olian 

Rhythm in this ode we have just discussed, we will 

now give an example of the Lydian Rhythm, whose 

characteristic was a frequent use of the soft Ionic 

feet, that is to say, of ^ time. And we will take the 

5th Olympian as our example. And the accompaniment 
is here the Lydian Flute, 


Yip - Tf- Xav a - pe-Tav KoX aTe(f)-dv-iov a - w- tov jXv-kvv 

2 I j [ I ,s Is ] I Is S f3 1 is s I ] 
Tiov 'O- Xvfx- TTL -a, '£2 - K£ - a - vov ^v -ya- rep, 

Kap -01 -a ye - Xa - vu 

3 js IS I ^ hf j N I f I N I f3 I ^f [ isP I ^5 

aK-a-fiavTO-TTO- ^6q t citt r)v-ag Se'kew '^avixL -og St Swpa 


2 J I [3 1 ^ s I f I K ,^ I f3 Is I f I s I 3 

og Tuv aav ttoXlv au-|wv, Kafxapi - - va,Xa- - o-rpn-cpov, 

I For this foot cf, p, 331 note. 



2 I i 

-^^-."-^J-J^-^-^-J ^"."J1 

^(jj-fxoiig e^ St - Su- -fxovg ly - e - - pa- pfv f - op- 




Tolq ^i. - (ov fxe - yia-ratg 

UTTO (SovOva'i- - aic, ai-6X-iovre irsfxirT - a/n-tp -oig a-iiiXXaig 


2 I I f3 I i> S I F 

iTr-iroig -nfi - i - o - voig re fiov-a/n - ttv-kl 



tIv Se Kv-dog a€-p6v 


VI- Kfl - (Tate av-ed - - rj - k£, koL ov ira- rtp' 'A/cpwv' 

pu - ^£ /cat rav v£ - ot - kov fS-pav. 

e - Ka 

where we may notice how charmingly he works up the 
phrases that he gave out in his first line in ^, ^, g, and 
^ time, and how he varies and scatters them through 
the piece, and brings them in, in beautiful sequence, in 
that last line of the Epode. 

And the Strophe opens in that same swinging and 
graceful measure which we have seen Praxilla use, who 
invented Rhyme ; and this is the typical Lydian Style 
And how does Pindar play with it, and makes offers at 
it, as in the 2nd line of the Strophe, 


"I III > >l I 

which might be really Lydian feet, 

■J h ^| I h:> 

but he puts us off till the 4th with feints only. And 
thus he teases our ears with delay. And in the last 
line of the Epode it is the same. He again makes a 
feint at the Lydian measure in the second bar, but he 
shades off into it sooner here. 

And now let us take an example of the ^Eolian 
Rhythm once more, with its light Cyclic Dactyls, and 
Trochees, and its light Paeons. And this that we shall 
give is one of Pindar's masterpieces, for it is wonder- 
fully delicate and graceful, and it speaks of the 
lightness of women. 


'A - va^ - I -(j)6p - fiiy -yec ^f^ - voi, ri -va ^e - bv, tIv tj - 

I N 1^ hf I h K Isf I ■> I 1 
pw - a, Tiv-a S' av-^Qa K£-Xa - Sij - (TO-fiev ', 


Tot lit- era fxev Ai-og ' 'O - Xvfi - wt- a-^a 8' 

I In this Ode, as I understand it, he has converted the Anacrusis to an 


-Esthetic figure, by using this |j bar | J . | , which is really an 

ornamental Anacrusis. I have not hesitated to adopt this bar -I 

yjuaKpa Tpi'^povog), not only from the smoothness and elegance it pro- 
cures to the numbers, but also because it avoids any breaking into the Pjeons, 
where it occurs in the middle of the line. In the arrangement of the first line 
of the Strophe I have differed from Bockh, and also in the last of the Epode. 
To other differences in succeeding Odes I shall not allude, and will only say 
that I have never altered his arrangement of the lines, except with very great 
reluctance, and then not often. 


g-»k~[g-J— »i— J-[-J J— J-) 

£(T - Ta - aev 'H - paK - Ae - »je 

a - Kpo -0t - va TToX - e - juou * 

Qri - f)(i)-va de. rer -pao-pi -ag ev - e -Ka vi - Ka -^6-pov 

3 K I [ I '"* N N[ J ^ J E ! ^ J_] 

•ye -yw 

Vr/ - TE - OV, O - TTtV St - Kai - OV ^£ - VOVy 

IS I I ] ,S 1 I 

£ -puafx 'a - Kpa -yav -roe. 

3 ' f T IS ' f h s n'I f^ N I IN I F5 N N N] 
£u - wvv-fxwv T£ 7ra-T£pwv a -w - rov op - 0o-7ro-Xtv, 

. Antistrophe. 

iSf I K I [ I 1^ J E J S N H I Nil 

Ka-ni6v-Tsg OL ttoX -Xa ^v - fitj^ i - z-pov ta -^ov oi- 

>- r> >- 

I N ^ M I N K Nf I S I 1 

Ki] - /xa TTOT-afx - OV, St -K£ -Xi - at,' r' e-aav 
6^ - daX -/xoc at - wv t ecjte-ire flop - ai - fxog 

I Or long by Ictus. Cf. the corresponding syllables in the other strophes. 
Although indeed this might be short, as it may well be in the Antistrophe, 
nd the syllables in the other strophes really have an akojia. 


3 I t . I K I f I U 1 ] 

ttAov - Tov re kol ycL^iv a-yiov 

yvr] - (Ti - aig Itt a - pe -ralg 

dXX a) Kpo-vi-£ TTat 'Fi-ag, 'i-^og 'O-Xvfx-TTOv ve-fiwv 

3 K 1 F J ^ N Kf I sir, N M 

d - iu - \a>v r£ /co - pu -(pav tto -pov r' 'AX- (f>e - ov, 

:> ::> "^ 

I - av - diig d ~ oi - Batg 

3 I c I N I f h ^ n'1^ f6 ^ ! i> i [3 N N K]] 
£y - (j)p(ii)v d-pov-pav £ - tl ttut - pi-av a^i-(TLV ko -fii-aov 

Epode. 9 


3- IF I N I f5 i^T" ^ ^ F I i^ 1 1 
\oi - - 7r<^ yi - vEi rwv Se tte - irpay - fii - vwv 

3 1 Kf I N I F3 N N ■*»«? I In I F^ I N I ^3 
£V ot - Ka r£ KOL ira-pa ci - Kav d-Troi - rj-TOV ov6 av 

N K K I F5 1 Kf I '^ I F 1^ <^ ^'| f I ^ I 1 

;)(povoc 6 Trav- rwv ira - Trjp ^vvai - to ^ijuev fp-yajv reXog ' 

III These phrases must be allowed on sufferance, as they have scarcely 
the feel of the assumed Dochmius, and yet it is eminently necessary to sound 
them both together. 



\d - - 9a Se 7roT-yU(t» (tvv ev - dat- fxo- vi yi - volt av * 

N I [3 ^ N N f I K I 3 1 hi 
£<T-Xwv yap V - TTo x"P" /^^' ''"'^^ '''^" f^"- ^^^^o"" 

KEt 7ra -Xty - ko - rov Sa- /zacr- Oiv. 

Now is not this light and graceful ? And I think 
we may go. on to try and express its beauty and symmetry 
yet more clearly to the ear, by a new method of 
notation. For these lines, we know, must be read 
straight on, without any pause between, but by adhering 
to the use of lines we at any rate suggest pauses, 
though we may not actually express them. At the 
same time, by adhering to the use of lines, we miss 
occasionally some of the finer points of the composi- 
tion, as in the 2nd and 3rd lines of the above strophe, 
where it is plain that the 15 note and 20 note Paeonic 
Phrases of the ist line are really repeated in the 2nd 
and 3rd line, though we were unable to express them 
properly, but must needs break up the 20 note Phrase 
into two Phrases of 10 notes each, because we adhered 
to the use of lines, and could not bend the Phrase 
over. Now in the performance of the piece this would 
not be felt, but the 20 note Phrase would still be 
there, however it were written in the copy. Just as 
in our own notation, double bars, which often come 
in the middle of Phrases, or real bars of melody, 
are by no means felt in the performance of a piece, 
but are as if they were not there at all. In this 
way I think we may better express the flow of the 
Rhythm by writing the music straight on, as in the 


complete modern notation, and dropping henceforth the 
use of lines. For lines, indeed, are a literary con- 
trivance for showing to the eye in the easiest and 
clearest manner the rhythm of the words : which, 
were the words written straight on, would be difficult 
to show, without a complicated and unsightly system 
of phrase-marks, &c., above the words. But with Music 
this is not so, for it has its system of phrases and 
bars, &c., which are a part of itself, and these things 
come natural to music, so that Music can be, and is 
better to be written straight on, since it possesses 
every aid to the exposition of the rhythm, while 
Literature, with the exception of lines, does not possess 
any aid at all. And it was natural indeed for the 
Greeks, whose music was so knit up with Language, 
to employ lines in their notation. For they wrote 
their words in lines, and set the notes above them. 
But this was often productive of difficulties of reading, 
when in intricate music, the Musical Phrase, as it so 
often does, extends from one line to another, or when 
the phrase stopped in the middle of a word, yet the 
line must needs go on to the end of that word, and 
so see a new phrase begin untimely ; because the lines 
must always end with the end of a word. And there 
was another reason why the Greeks continued to write 
in lines, even when the intricacy of the music had 
made them very unsatisfactory vehicles of expression — 
and that was because there was always allowed the 
licence of lengthening or shortening a syllable at 
pleasure that occurred at the end of a line, and this 
was a very convenient licence for poets, which they 
made continual use of. And if the syllable were a long 
one that was wanted to be made short, we may 
explain the licence by saying that an aXoyia, or super- 
fluous accent, was placed on the musical note, and so a 



long syllable could be taken to its time. And if it 
were a short syllable that was wanted to be made long, 
in some circumstances, as in Iambic lines, the stress of 
the Arsis will account for it, and in other cases, we 
must allow that it was a pure licence that had crept in 
on the precedent of these other indulgences. In writing 
our music, then, henceforth, straight on, we must con- 
trive some device by which we may still show where 
the lines end, on this very account. And we will 
employ double bars to show the end of lines, and we 
will say that, as a syllable was adiaphorous at the end 
of a line, similarly is it adiaphorous when it occurs 
immediately before our double bar. And we shall write 
it long or short agreeably as the poet used it. In this 
way we shall be able to employ the complete modern 
musical notation. And now we will write this last Ode 
of Pindar's in the style that we have said, and it will 
read much easier. 


:— o=:4sq=:ii]z=^v=:=r 





i^ - I - (j)6p- fj.iy - yag vfx - voi, ri- va 3"£- 


~1S ^*' — k- 


ov, Tiv, 1] - pu)- a, TLV-a S' av-dpa ke -\a - 617- <to- fiiv \ 




^Ei^F*— - 

Toi III- aa fxlv Ai-og''0- Xvju -iri- a- 8a 8' 





a? J:_^ a?* : 

2^ i_ 

£0-- ra -(7£v 'H - paK-\k - y\g Ilk. p6- Ol- va iroXifxov 








077 - pw ' va 06 T£r- pao- pi-ag tv - e-Ka vi - ku- ^6-pov 





ye - yw - vrj - te - ov, 6 - Trtv St - kui - bv ^e - vov, 







£- p£i<jfx Ajc - pa- yav -roc, 

W - VV - fJi(OV 



T£ 7ra- T£ - pwv a - (JL) - tov op 

- 00- TTO- \lV, 




- ^ ^- 




-^ — »!- 

jUOV - T£e 01 TToX - Xa ^V - flt^ I - E /30V 





i^^^ziMz; — ^ — ^— ^— ^- -zM^H-it 


^ 1^ a;— ^ 

£(T - ;)(;ov ot - K?7 -/ia iroT-afx - ov, St -k£- \i - ag r 




:i=ra^— i: 

£ - cav 6^-daX-p.og al-a)v t £- ^£ -7r£ jnop 











Tov T£ Km ■)(Cip -IV a-y(i)v jvt]- ai - aig ett o - pe-raig 


a'AA' J Kpo-vt-£ TraT 'Pl-ae, t-Soc O-XtiyU-Trou vi-fjutyv 


liizi^ iS"- . :ziP. 


liP 1^ (^ L_ i^I 


d - iO - Xwv re ko - pw - 0av tto - poyr' 'AA-^£ - 01), 






I- av - deig a - 01 - daig ev - <pp(jjv a- pov- 



:^ ' zq^zzq T_: 




pav i - Ti TTUT - pi - av a(j)i- <Jiv ko - fii-cfov 










Aot - TTt^ yt -vH TU)v §£ TTE -TTpay -}xi-v(x)V ev St- 

^ — a^ ^ ^—<0—d- 



KO. T£ Koi ira-pa di - kuv a- ttol - t? - tov ouo av 








XpO-VOQ 6 TTCIV - TUiV TTtt - TTJp dv- vai - TO ^i-jXiV £p- 







ywv T£ - Aog ' \a - - 6a St wot - ixi^ avv ev - 




iJat- juo- VI 7E - votr av 

£(T-Awi/ yap V - TTO 




\ap-/xa-T(i)v Trr\-fxa^vaa-KU Tra-Xiy-KO - tov da-fxaa-Bev. 

And now we will write a very difficult ode by the 
help of this new notation, which is one of the most 
intricate, without at the same time being one of the 
most pleasing. And this is the 2nd Pythian. And it 
is a pompous and laboured ode, in which he sings 
the praises of Syracuse. 

And the rhythm is a mixture of iEolian and 

MtyaAoTToXiEc & "EivpaKOcraiy fSadviroXifiov Srjo. 

refxevog "Apeog, avBpwv ittttwv te mdapO)(apfxav daifioviai 

vfifxiv Toce Tav Xiirapav cnro 9»)j3av ^tpwi* 
/xiXog tpy(oixaL ayyeXiav Terpaopiag eXeXi^dovog, 
^vapfxarog lipcov Iv a Kjoartwv 
TTt]XavyiaLV avior\ai.v ^Oprvyiav are^dvoig, 
TTOTUfxiag icog ^Aprefxidog, ag oi/k artp 

Ktivag ayavaiaiv Iv X^P'^'- TroLKtXaviovg k^afxaaas ttwXowc , 
ETTi yap loxiaipa irapdivog x^pl ^i^v/xa 'Avr. 

o T kvaydjvLO^ Ep/xag alyXavra ridrjai Kocrfxov, ^earov 6t- 

av ^[(ppov 
£V 3^' apfxara TTH<Ji\dXLva KUTa^evyvvrj 
adivog 'iirinov, opaoTpiaivav tvpv^iav koXewv ^eov. 



aXXoig Of Tig IriXeGtnv aXXog avrjp 

tva)^ea j^aaiX^vrnv vfivov, airoiv aperag. 

Kska^iovTi /xlv afx^l KLVvpav TroWuKLg 

(fiafiai KvTrpi(i)v, tov 6 xpv(TO)(^a'iTa Trpo^povo;^ IcjiiXaa 'A- 

lepia KTiXov 'A^poStrac ' ayei St X'^9'-^ ^iXmv iroivifiog 

avrX ipy(i)v oiriZofiBva ' 'Ett. 

fff , (b Aeivofxiveie irai, Zz^vpia irpo do/xwv 
AoKpig Traputvog airvu, iroXifiiodv Ka/idzMv i^ ajxa^avhiv 
cia redv ovvajuiv ^paKeia da(j)aXeg. 
3"£wv o ktjiSTfjiaig 'I^tova 0avrt Tavra (ipoTOig 

AlyetV Iv TTTSpOSVTl TpO'^d^ 

TravTo. KvXivo6fj.£vov ' 

TOV evepy STav ayavalg afxoL^alg iTroi\o/xevovg TLveaOai. 



-H— ^ ^ mi- 




Me- ya - Xo- tto - Xi - ag 



Su- pd 

t, I5a- 




^v- TTO - Xi- fiov Tin- ^^ " o? "^ " P^ ■ ^^' "^ 

Spwv ITT - TTwv r£ <7i-8a - po - ;^ap-juav dai-fiov- i- ai 







0-^ot, v//- |Ufv TO- §£ rav At- Tra-pav a- tto Qrtbav 







(pi-p(ji)v jLii-XoQ ep - X*^/*^*^' "V" y^^'f^ - tti* rtr-pa- 




)p - { - ac fX- eX- tY " ^o- voc, ih - ao - jua Tog 







f / 

'I - £ - pwv £v o /cpa- r£-wv rr/X - au - ye- 



av - £ - orj 

'Op - TV - ji - - av <Tr£^-«v- ot^, 


-g* — s)- 


'5~ai — g> — a^ — a^ - 

TTor- afi - L - - ag 'id- - og 'Ap - - refx- tS - oc, ac 


:^=i^--Zzj-4 =aL-=s^=a^z:^ =|g=i^z:gJi:|zg=^z 


vaf aj-av- at - - cnv iv ^^q-cji 






TTOi - KiX - av - t - 

ovg £§ - af.1 - aa - - as. irwX-ovg 


£7r - I 7(^/p I - o - x^ - at - pa Trap 

voc x^ 





pi St - dv- fia o tIv - a - - ytov - i - og 'Ep- 

^m fxac, at- - yXav-Ta ti-By]- ai k6-(tjxov, ^£(t-tov o-rav 

^zwF^—i^ziMzf^—WzzMziMi^Miz^zzi^ —iit:^ 

oi^pov ev ^' ap-jua-Tct tth- cti- xa-X< - I'o /ca- ra-^Euy 

gi:^=af- flj=i^z::^z:a!=zgLia!i | zi^zza!=al-i^ fg =gj=a!E ^ 

vv - ri adivoQ tV - Trt- ov, op - <TO-rpi-at - - vav ev- 


pv- hi - av KoX- e - wv S'e-oi 


OfC 08 TtC 



er - I- Xect - (T£v aX - Xoc a-vjj 



-_-_ , , :=l^i3=z:l:fl^i:Jv=id!5:Tg=:zjz=rz]!?=i^*«=z:]=n 


pace -I - A£v - <TLV vfi - vov, air - - oiv a - pe- rag. 

Ear" ^ 




'a< ^ — ^~ 

eX - a - Sf - - ov - rt jUEv a^u - - ^t Kt - vu-pav, 





m - - fxa KwTT-jOi-wv, tov 6 ^puco- 








Xai - ra Trpo- 0po- vw? f^ - tX - acr' 'Att - oX- Xwv, 


i - £ - pi - - a KTi-Xov 'A(p - - po - ^i - rag . ay- 


:«=a^zzi^— ^; 

£t 0£ X^P^^ (j)iXu)v TTOt- vi-/iOC av - ri £p-ywv ott- 

t^ - o/x- £V- a ■ o-£ S', (J5 Aft- vo- fxiv-ZL - - £ TTat, 

Zetjivp -L - - a irpb do-fxwv Ao-Kpig Trap-Oiv-og a- n 








irv-ei, TToX-efii - - wv Ka/iaT-bjv i^ a - - fia-\av(ji)v 





;t— -•izz]: 



St - a T£ - - av §uv- a/i- tv Spa-KEio-' atr- (^taX-ig- 





^£ - wv S' £d) - £7 - uaig 'I^ - - - i - - ov- - a (bav- 

— !«« !- 





TL Tov- Ta j3por-otc Xfy-Etv iv 7rr£p-^v- 







Ti rpo^- tj> 

TTav - ra icv, 

A - - tv - Sou- 

o^-£v - ov 





TOV £V - fp - yf - - rav ay - av - at^ a/^t - ot- 






%a1q Itt - - 01 - \Ofii-iv - ovq ti - veer- dai. 

i In which we may notice one or two remarkable 
j inversions and imitations, as the 5th and 6th lines of 
i the Strophe are almost Strict Imitation, 

[^ M ^ ^ 

s h 

J J J'/l J" J" 

> T| J ^h / J I 

and the two last lines of the Epode are an admirable 
instance of Imitation by Contrary Motion, being com- 

I Dochmius with the ist long resolved, and the 2nd and 5th notes in 



posed of two passages, the first, recte till the middle 
of the Ionic in the last line, 

I- J ^ I ! ^ h I I h I I Ml N 

which from there repeats 7'etro^ as we may see, by 
setting the second passage under it, thus. 

I 2 




6 7 8 

9 10 





•, 1 




p> \\ 1 

)"^ 1 


!> 1 



1 * 




«p 1 


t9 « « 

■& ■» 


« 1 






23 22 21 

20 19 





1 / 




^ h i 
« ^ ^ 

h. 1 


-0 1 



I By Metathesis. 


P- 341- 

But in the following Ode^ we have much more 
remarkable instances of such devices, and it is a 
masterpiece of rhythmic counterpoint : — 

'AKOUfl-ar' ■ 17 yap tXt/coiTrtSoe 'A^poStVag 

hi Nil h h ^ l"r h h I I ^f^ J j^ 

^ 9 9 ■& \ ■& <S ■& -0 9 ■& \ -9 9 9 9 

apoupav r\ Xaptrwv 

N I h i I h h h 1 

99 9 9 \ 9 -9 9 \ 

avaTroXiZoiaev, 6iu.(l)aXov kpt^po/uLOV 

^^^l^r^hll hhhii N 

9 -Of ■& 9 9 9 19 9 9 9 \ 9 9 

9 9 

^Oovog aivvaov Trpoaot^o/XEvot " 

hh^ii hi hi! hhh 

9 9 9 ' \ 9 99 9 \ -9 9 9^ 

fPhNl hill hi hi I hhhl 

W 9 9 9 9 \ 9 9 9 9 \ -m 9 ^ 9 \ 

TTOTa/iiia T ^AKpayavTL koX fidv SevoKparu 

h h h 'V hhj I hi h I h h h I I 

I The 6th Pythian. 




h I I ^ I 

« « « 

'ATToXXwVlCt T£Tti\l(TTat VUTTq.' 

^ 1 I I 

'Ak-ov- (Tar' "^ yap eX- ik-wtt - id- og ^A(p-po-CL-T mq 

a-pou-pav rj Xap-iT- wv av-a7r-oX-i^ - ofx-eVf 




ggjB^S^fg ^i^^ig 

ofKpaXov Ip - i€-po -juow )(Bov6(, a -i-vavov Trpocr- 

o£-;\;o/i-fv-Oi ■ Ilv- Bl-6v-ik~ og'lvO' 6X- €i-ot- triv 


'E/x- fxev-id-aig ttot-o/x- i- a t' 'AK-pa-Yav- Tt Kai yuav 







S£v-0K-pa-7£f £ -rot - fxogvfx-vMV ^r](Tav-pog hv ttoX 





v-\Qv-aijj 'A-TToXXw - - vi- a ra-rd - - yia-raL vaira ' ^ 

And now let us examine this Ode, and we shall 
see that the 2nd line imitates the ist, 

J" J J" J I J^ J" / J^*^ / I J *^ J J* \ 
And the 2nd line imitates it thus, 

but here it breaks off, and the imitation is taken up 
anew in the phrase of the 3rd line that immediately 
succeeds it, 

carrying the ist line nearly to its end, but there breaking 
off into a Paeon, with another of which it ends the line. 
And the 4th line begins with imitating the 3rd, but 
breaks off into Trochees and ends with a Pseon, which 
is the opening of the same 3rd line inverted, 

J* J" /• I J *"** J *^ I J J" J" / I 

The 5th line begins with an imitation of the 3rd 
line from the 2nd half of its opening foot, 

makes a feint at continuing it with another Pseon, 
but glances off into a Ditrochee instead, and so settles 
into an imitation of the 4th line, which it continues 
to the end, 

J .^ J / 1 J / ^ .Ml 

The 6th Hne resumes the imitation of the 3rd line, 
which itself was an imitation of the first line, and 



this time the 3rd line is imitated from the beginning, 

> > > I^T ^ hi 

^ -0 W -9 « « I 

I a continuance feinted at, as in the 5th line, and ulti- 
^ mately determined to a Ditrochee and Paeon as 

J J^ J •^ I J" / ^ J II 

only this time the Paeon is the inversion of that in 
the 5 th line. 
The 7th line, 

^ r I N I I II 

which is immediately reproduced by Contrary Imitation 
in the 8th line, 

■m « « I « -m \ 

and the last foot is repeated at the end, but this 
time in its uninverted form. 

1^ I 

And what shall we say of the last line, and how is 
its form determined ? And the last line is determined 
in this way, for starting with the last bar of the 
preceding line, it simply repeats the notes backwards 
till the beginning of the 7th line, and so the piece 
ends with a most artful passage of Contrary Imitation, 
thus : 
7th line 

I 234 

.^ J I / J J I 

8th line 

5 6 78 9 10 II 

Last line 

9 10 II 8765 4321 

J* J J I ^ J i" J I J J ^ J 



And now we may write these things over our notes 
as follows : — 


^i^- ^~Mz=z^=3^z 

Imitation of ist Line. 

Renewed imitation from 

the place where the last left off. Renewed imitation not sustained. 

Secondary imitation of Imitation of 4th 

3rd line. 




Renewed imitation of 3rd and tst line branching 



into imitation of 4th 
line with the close 
in Contrary motion. 

Imitation by Contrary 


Ditto by Direct Imitation 

motion. By Direct By Contrary motion. 

:^3it:gizez : ; 

I + 


:— ^iq=:^^=: 


And what we must admire in these two odes is that 
with all the intricacy of bar structure in the first, and 
of contrapuntal device in the second, the Phrases, for it 
is these we would now speak of, stand out quite clear 
and simple much more so indeed than in the earlier 
odes that we examined, and more so perhaps than we 
are likely to light upon again. For it is exceptionally 
simple phrasing, and shows us well that the same 
pattern is still preserved as the ground form of Phrasing, 
which we knew to be used by Homer himself — that is 
to say, 2 Phrases, or, at the utmost, 3 Phrases to the 
line — or now that the Musical Period extends so far be- 
yond the limits of the single line, two Phrases we must 
say to the Clause, for the lines are the Clauses of the 
Period. And now we have seen this simple principle 
much violated in those earlier yEolian and Lydian Odes 
that we examined, and shall see it contradicted and 
infringed perhaps to the very verge of licentiousness in 
other odes of the same rhythms, on which the Dithy- 
rambic influence was always most strong. But in the 
Dorian Rhythm, which is one that we have not yet 
examined, for we have hitherto only heard .^olian and 
Lydian Rhythms, it ever remained the governing 
principle. The Dorian Rhythm was the chastest and 
severest of them all, and yielded least to external 
influences, and the Dorian Rhythm best preserved the 
ancient Homeric Phrasing — two Phrases to the line, 
or sometimes three, Double phrasing or Triple Phrasing 
we have called it, and in our present method of notation 
it would be Two Phrases, or Three, to the Double Bar. 
But now the advance of Art had demanded a greater 
intricacy of beauty, which was otherwise indeed un- 
called for in the music of Homer. For his Period was 
commensurate with his line, but our Period has several 
lines to compose it, and men wrote under quite 


different conditions therefore now. And they must view 
large sweeps of sound, as he his short ones : yet could 
they go to no better master to learn how to treat their 
materials. And asking what was the Homeric principle 
of Phrasing, we shall remember that Homer always 
dovetailed his phrases into one another, by making the 
last note of the first of the two Phrases go to the first 
syllable of a new word, that so the break between the 
two might not be apparent to the ear, which was 
always likely to be apparent, owing to the original 
dual constitution of the Hexameter. And by this 
means there was a beautiful smoothness and integrity 
communicated to the line, which was the complete 
Period in those days. And now this principle of 
phrasing, which the Master of us all and king of all 
excellence and beauty had so exemplified continually, 
must receive a new and more artful development, and 
be applied to beautify that longer Period of many 
lines, which was now the form in use. And as he 
treated his Phrases, so did the Dorians treat their 
Clauses, weaving them together in beautiful union and 
by the same contrivance ; so that the ear might 
never be assailed by interstices of sound, but that 
the complete Period might have the same integrity 
and unity which the Homeric line had, and its 
several parts be seen not as parts, but rather as 
blends of a graceful fusion. 

And let us take an example of this from one of 
the Dorian Rhythms of Pindar. And we will take 
that most Dorian of his Odes, the 3rd Olympian, in 
which he invokes the patron deities of the Dorians, 
Castor and Pollux. And we will first phrase the 
words, to show our case the clearer, and then the 
music after. And since this is the first Dorian 
Rhythm that we have met with, let us admire its 

. THE GREEKS. 3 19 

might and majesty, as compared to the levity of some 
of those we have hitherto studied. 

Stjo. a. 

( \r \( ~^ ~ 

kXhvciv 'AKpdyavTa yepaipojv ev^Ofxai, 


Qripwvog ^OXvfjLTrioviKav v/xvov dpBwcraig, aKafiavroTrocijJv 

— s , ^ ( 

iTTTrwv awTOv. Moiaa 8' ovtu) fxoi Trapaara fxoi v£oaiyaXov 

evpovTt rpoTTOv 

'Avt. a. 

— -^^^ ^^ 

nyXaoKOJ/JiOv. cTrei xairaun filv Z^v)(6ivTeg hirl arifpavoi 

TTpaaaovTL fis TOVTO ^eo^fxarov ')(^piog, 

(popfiiyya re TroiKiXoyapvv kol (dodv avXCjv eiriwv re ^icnv 

AlvrjcTiddiuLOv TratSi (rv/x/xT^ai irpeirovTMg, a rt Iliaa fxe yeytt)- 

vuv ' Tag aTTO 

^tvfxopoi viaaovT Itt' avdpwirovg aoi^ai, 

(^ TivX, Kpaivo)v i((>eTfxdg 'HpaKkeog irporipag Ett. a. 


cLTpsKTig '^WavodiKag y\e(j)dp(i)v AlrwXbg dvrip v\p66ev 

^ f >, 

a/x^i KOfxaicri )3aXrj y\avK6-)(jpoa Koafxov iXaiag ' rdv irore 

larpov dirb aKiapdv iraydv eveiKav ^ AjLKpiTpvojviddag, 

fxvdfia TU)v OvXvfXTriag KaXXtaT*>v aOXwv. 



And now it will be seen that the Epode does not 
dovetail its clauses as the Strophe and Antistrophe 
do. And object of this deviation is to effect a contrast, 
that the original pattern may come out all the bolder, 
when the Strophe and Antistrophe begin again, 
which they do directly the Epode finishes. And 
Homer made use of similar contrast for a like purpose ; 
for in his Triple Phrasing, with which he diversifies 
his double Phrasing, the Phrases are generally 
separated phrases, as the Clauses are separated clauses 
in our Epode. 

And now we will give the Music of this Dorian 
Ode, and the dovetailing will be between Double bars 
in the Music, as it has been between lines in the 
Poetry. And the Accompaniment to this Dorian Ode 
was the Lyre and Flute.^ 

Strophe. ■ 



Tvv-^ap - iS - ate tb (piX - o^- eiv - - oig aS- etv jcaX- 

XtTT-Xo/ca/x - w 2r' 'FiXev - a kXeiv- av ^ Ak- pay- av-ra y£p- 





aip-Mv ev)(^o-/xai, Q{]p - ayv- og 'OX-vfi-iri-ov - l-kuv 

vfx-vov op - 6(1) - (jaiQ, a/c- afj. - av - tottoB - (i)v itt- 
I V. 8. 





-^ — ^ — ^ 



TTwv a - (x)T - ov. MoT-(7a S' ov - rw /^ot Trap-eo- - ra 


^ 1: 



/iot v£ - o - (Tty- aX- ov ev - pov - - rt rpoT 






Aw- pi - (jt) <j)wv- - av Iv- ap - fxoc, - ai weo-iX 



ay- \a - 6 - kwju-ov. Itt- - el ^(ai- - rai - ai /.ilv ^ev)(- 

uev- Teg eir - \ (TTe(pav - 01 Trpda-tjov-ri fxe tov-to ^e- 







6ci- fxar - - ov ^ipeoQ, <f)6p - - fiiyja re ttol-kiXo - yapvv 






zl3*z=*— ^=Zj^z a^ — ^ —^-i - w) — a^— ^- ■-^— : z:^~. 


kol po- av av\ - - (ov eir - i - ojv re ^ecr - iv At- 



.7—^ — ^-—^-=M~ :=i^zz:i^zz:*=i: 


vrj - (Tto-a/x - ov Trai - 61 (rvfji-fu^ - ai Trpeir-ov-Twg, 






-^ — i^— g^ 

- ^ — a^- 




a re n<' - era jU£ -yE-y - w - veTv " rac a - ttO 



-»i — a^ — a^ — gi- 

j^za^ — g^ 

S'Ev -^op - ot via - (TOVT £7r' av-9p(i)Tr - ovg a - oi- dai, 





-^—9 —^ 

(^ Tiv - i Kpai-v(i)v £^ - £7- /xae 'Hp 









og TTpOTfp - ac ar - p£- Krig 'EX - - Aav - oo - t- 







Kag yXeipdp - wv Air - - w\- og dv - r/p vip- 6d - sv 







a;U - ^t KO/x - at - ai /3aA - rj yXau - ko;^ - po - a 




Koafiov e\ - ai-ag ' tclv ttote "Icrrpou ott- 6 cr/ct-a- 


z:i=iiz: -J-^^^-itusLzn.^ 


pav Tray - av ev- £f - kev "" Kix^it-qv - b) - vi- a - oac, 

I Of course this is strictly a bar of g time, but since it is assimilated m 
succeeding Epodes to ^ time by an aXoyia on the last syllable, and is 
commonly read as an Epitrite there, it has been thought allowable to regard 
it loosely as such here, for the sake of not disturbing in the slightest the 
principle of the structure, cf. infra p. — 



fiva - fxa tCjv Ov - Xvfx -tti- ag koX - Xia-rvv ad- Xwv. 

Now in this interlocking of the Clauses, or desire to 
give unity to the composition — and we may see another 
exhibition of the same desire by looking at the 
wording of the poem, for the Strophe ends in the 
middle of a sentence, which the Antistrophe takes up 
and concludes, and between the Antistrophe and the 
Epode there is only a comma, and no concluded 
sentence, and this is the nearly universal method of 
constructing the poetry, that there should be never a 
full stop where the new movement is to begin, but 
all should be blended and run on unbroken till the 
very end of the entire composition, and this we 
should have remarked more particularly, only it is 
not peculiar to the Dorians, but common to all the 
Rhythms — but in this locking of the clauses, I say, 
since we have chosen this as our illustration, we may 
discover the incarnation of the very soul and secret 
spirit of all Art, and especially of the Greek Art, 
which was Art's best child and dearest progeny. For 
the end of all Art is the fabrication of Unity. Whence 
some have not hesitated to assert, that the artistic 
genius is the surest particle of that Anima Mundi, 
which gave this world its being. For to effect Unity 
is to effect Creation. And though Imitation of Nature 
be in a manner creation, or rather, re-creation, and 
so fall within the scope of Art, yet is it not the heroic 
of Art, but rather the subaltern and domestic side of 
it. And Zeuxis was justly considered a greater painter 
than Dionysius, who merely drew the portraits of men 
faithful to the life. But Zeuxis, being asked to paint 
a Juno, sent for five of the most beautiful women of 


Crotona, and taking the most beautiful parts from 
each, united them all into a consummate whole of 
beauty. And thus he was more daring and heroic to 
make a unity for himself, than merely as Dionysius 
did, to perpetuate what nature had already made for 
him. I Now of all Arts has Music most of all shown 
this daring, and true divinity of power, for it has 
never from the first imitated Nature, but has always 
been the creator of forms for itself; who has picked 
out the thousand tones from nature, and sorted them 
in frames, and scales, and songs, and melodies ; and 
has laboriously paired sound with sound, and measure 
with measure, endeavouring to give being and shape to 
what before had none, rocking chaos into harmony, and 
fetching a beautiful order and most majestic unity. And 
since its whole aim has been to effect continual unities, 
we may well rejoice to catch it in the act, and see it 
in the moment of its creation. Though before now 
we have seen how scales were locked together by 
Terpander, and Phrases, in like manner, locked in 
Homer, and there was no feeling the join when it 
came. And the principle of the combination of the 
feet was similar, for the most perfect combinations 
were always considered to be those, where each foot 
was not a separate word, but half of one word and 
half of another, and this was always aimed at, 
wherever it could possibly be secured, indeed it is one 
of the methods by which we tell the teet in difficult 
verses, for feet that are made up of complete words 



I How elegantly does Maximus express this common 
opinion of antiquity, in his 7th dissertation ! — ovirep 
rpoTTOv KoX Toiq ra ajoXfiaTa ^laTrXarTOvcriv, o\ ttuv to Trap 
£Ka(TTOii; KoXov avvajayovTig, Kara tyiv Ti)(yr}v Ik cia(j)6p(i)v 
(Tix)fxaT(i)v aOpoicravTeg ug jui/XTf^criv fxiav, KoXXog ev vjilg kol 
aprtov KOL Tipixoafxivov avrb avroo it,HpyaaavTO. 


are always to be rejected in favour of those, that are 
made up half of one word and half of another. 
And now the Clauses followed in. the track of the 
Phrases and of the Feet, and of the Melody as it stood 
in the Scale, and the whole was woven into an in- 
separable entirety. 

So have I stood before the column of a Grecian 
temple, and though I knew it was made of many 
separate stones, yet have I been unable to see where 
the joins came, as little as our ears can feel the 
joinings and piecings of the Music. And the jointing 
of the stones of the columns was also called apfiovia. 
And the smoothness and perfection of it was got in 
this way : not by planing or chiselling, but by rubbing 
the stones on one another, till they fitted to the 
breadth of a hair. And first the bottom drum of 
the column was rubbed round and round on the 
pavement, where the circumference had been marked 
out, and the flutes carefully traced on the pavement. 
And then the drum was rubbed round and round, till 
it got so smooth and perfect a fit, that it almost 
grew to the pavement, and then it was left with its 
flutes exactly coinciding with those traced on the 
pavement. And the next drum was worked round 
and round on it, and if fluted already, left standing 
with its flutes coinciding with those of the bottom 
drum, or if not fluted, the flutes were worked in 
after. And so on with all the drums, and in this 
way the junctura was so complete, that the division 
was invisible to the eye, as in Music it was inaudible 
to the ear. And earthquakes have been unable to 
separate the jointed stones of the Greek columns,^ 
and so has barbarism and ignorance been unable to 

I After an earthquake in Attica, the pillars of a temple were found broken 
in the body of the marble, and not where the stones had been joined. 



distort or shatter the Greek Music, which will ever 
live now. 

Now having considered this beautiful Dorian Rhythm 
from this point of view, we may be allowed to re- 
write it here, for there is something else that we 
would say of it. And we will write it with the 
Strophe, Antistrophe, and Epode separate from one 
another, because this suggests the figures of the dance 
better, and it is in reference to the dance that we 
would at present consider it. 












.*=*Z=i^=^— — ^ a* — wf ^- 









1— "^^l 








izl-M —¥-w>—wf : 




-4^ — ^— ^-t-^ — ^—^- 


:zj S-4 \z 


mzzzMzzjitzzxzizMzz: -^ — ^— ^ — ^— zzjiiizMzzMzzM. 






-^ — »>- 


-7 s d —r^ 




-d — d—d — d- 

- d—d — -d - 

1— S d — d S 

-d — 1^— d _^ 


^ 1 ^s=qvi^l=e=^=l==h-5=5=E2=3=i^^-- 


—d—d-d - zijd—drr -l-d—d-drzzMz 

















—it=.^:i :I=^=ziz3t=i=:I=^z=i^-*z; zi!^=z«=iz±ic2z 








Now if we will throw ourselves into the spirit of 
the dance, and imagine we see the dancers treading 
we may make a very important discovery. For look- 
ing at the composition of the Phrases, and of the 
feet that form those Phrases, we shall see that there 
are but Two Phrases in the Music, 

and I i^ i 11, the first composed of two 

Dactyls and a Spondee, the second being the Dorian 
Epitrite. And the play of these Two Phrases makes 
up the music. Agreeably to this, then, there must 
have been Two Distinct Figures in the Dance. And 
I have always associated the Dactyls here with stamp- 

u 11 n 

ing of feet, like volleys of guns, __v>w_ww „, 

and perhaps the hands were clapped, to bring out 
the power of the Rhythm more. Then at the Epitrite 
it was all softness and smoothness, and the dancers 

glided forward like swans, _ w _ _. Then vollied 
again, and then glided on again. And in this manner 
I conceive it was danced. 

- THE GREEKS. 329 

But there is something further behind this, and 
more important than the mere figure of the dance. 
For what is this play of Two Subjects in the Music? 
And does it not bear a very strange resemblance to 
that form of composition, which we call a Fugue ? 
For a Fu^ue is precisely what this is — a play of 
Two Subjects, which answer one another, and come 
running after one another in all sorts of fantastic 
sequences, precisely as these Two Subjects of our 
Dorian Rhythm do. And though the Fugues we are 
acquainted with are longer and more varied than this, 
yet they are none the less built upon the same 
original pattern, and the earliest Fugues that we know 
of in Europe, among them we may find instances of 
as great or greater simplicity of structure — but indeed 
it is not the simplicity or elaborateness of structure 
that we are concerned with at all, but the Root Form 
which pervades them all. And this is most certainly 
the true Fugue Form, and we shall by no means 
hesitate to call this piece a Rhythmic Fugue, for the 
play of Melodies in the Fugues we are acquainted 
with, is here matched by the play of Rhythms. And 
we have spoken of it as simple in structure, but we 
are not really justified in saying even that, for it is 
certain that the Two Melodies of our Fugues repeat 
in the course of the Fugue by no means oftener, 
but just about as often as we find the Two Rhythms 
repeat here. 

And this is no solitary instance that we have 
considered here, but is common to all the Dorian 
Rhythms. For all the Dorian Rhythms are constructed 
on this pattern — that is to say, they have Two distinct 
and well contrasted Subjects, that are given out in 
the 1st line, which is generally Invertible — recte et 
retro — as the ist line of this one is, and probably 



the origin of this device of Pindar's, which we have 
before now considered, was to secure freedom of 
working, and he contrived his first line which con- 
tained his subjects in such a way, that it might go 
either backwards or forwards, just as we. contrive our 
subjects in our Fugues, so that they may go in 
Double Counterpoint, that is, either above or below 
each other. And all the Dorian Rhythms, as I say, 
are constructed on this model. Two Subjects, which 
are given out in the ist line, which is generally 
capable of inversion, and the play of these two sub- 
jects forms the composition. 

Yet we look in vain for this method of structure 
in the other Rhythms, and yet I must not say in 
vain, for some will certainly bear' this form, but many 
will not yield themselves readily to it, which is always 
the best test to go by. For there is nothing that 
will not yield results under constant pressure, which 
is indeed a most dangerous engine to work by. But 
many will not yield to it, as I say, readily, and the 
few that will, are too few to estimate a principle by. 
And we must say roundly, that the other Rhythms 
are not constructed on this form, but only the Dorian 

For take this Lydian Rhythm, and we shall find 
there is no trace of any such structure about it : 


EA- A-THP v-K - - £p - 1-tt- re )3pov = - r'ins ok - a/x- 




-^— ji- 




-ro-TToS-oe Zev, re - ai ^olq wp - - m vir-o 



,. — 1 n^ -t«i— 1 • 

— 1 "^ ** i 

-H ^ '^■ 

; zl^t^'sz V: 

t^ i i i ] 

—^ — 9-9-^— 

-4-* — ^-. 


TTot-KtX - 6-(pop - juiy-yoc, a - 01 

)ag £ 


L(T - aOfi- £- 


3^=ii^— it^: 



vai fx lTr-eiu\p-av v\p- rjX-or-ar - wv fiaprvp^ a - id-Xojv. %h- 






vwv 0' eS TTpao-o-ov-rwi; to- - - av- av avriK ay-jEX-i-av ttot- 

t "yAu-Ka-ay ia - \oi. aXX\ oj Kpov - ov irai, 6g A.'it- 

vav £X"£fC) 

iir - ov av - fju - o - t(7 - - erav £K-ar-0'y- 



:^— *: 


^ Ke(j)-aX-a Tv - (pUJv-og ofi-^pi - /wv, Ov - - Xv/x-7rt-oviK- 

av Sek-eu Xap- it-u)v ek ' - a ^ rt t6v - §£ kw - juov, 








-5 — gi — -a^ — ^ 


- s d 

Xpov-t - (u - ra - - rov 0a - og £u - 

)Va-(7£V - £- 



wv ap-i.r-av. '^av-fii- og yap 'Ik 

u ox-e- 






>, OQ i\ -at - a (7Te(pav- w - - Oeig Ui - aa - ri- St- 





_i^ s^ ^ s^' 





Ku-Soc op-o-aj (TTrevS-H Kajuap - iv- a. ^e-bg £w-0pwv el 




r? AotTrate f^X"'? * fTT - £t juiv al-ve - o) fiaXa fxlv rgo- 

0aTe £r - OL-fxov 'iTr-irtov, xai - - pov-TO, re q,£v-i - aig 








ao- - V - X'""^ ^tX-OTT-oA- tv 

Kad-a- pa yvto - fia tst- pafx-fiiv - ov. ov -ipEv-Be-'i riy- 





^at Aoyov ' St - a - TTH- pa tol j3poT- wv eX - Eyx^C' 



Tj - Ttc KXvjuiiv - - oi - o TraT - da Aa/x- vl - a-dwv 





jvv-ai - (cwv 


vff - ev ec, 

ar - I - fXL - ac,. 


■5— J- 


XaX-KEOi - ai S' £v 6v - re - at vl - - k(ov Spo-fxov 









-^— ^_^_ 



£ - £t - TTEV 'Y^ - - t- TTvX- SI 

a fxer - a ote^- 

— —J — -J — -_j — -_j ^. 







OV I - (1)V' Ox) - TOQ l-y - - (i) Ta\-VT - - a - TL 



'^— ^- 








r^ - op tcr-ov. (j)v-ov - rai cs kul 

-£J — .,j _ -_j -J ,j_ 




-^ r-d— -^—^—^ 


VEOte £v av - Spacriv vroX-t - ai ^a}i- a Kat ira-pa tov 


^X - 

I - ag 

01 - KO - ra 


And it is a flush of glorious measures, and over- 
loaded with ornament to the verge of licentiousness. 
And there is not a trace of any such method of 
structure about it, and this is true about all its kind. 
And contrasting its floridness with the severity of 
that Dorian Rhythm, we may say that the Dorian 
Rhythm is the Strict Style of Greek Music, and the 
Lydian and ^olian Rhythms, the Free Style. And 
that the essence of the Strict Style is construction in 
Fugal Form, while of the Free Style it is to dispense 
with any such severity of structure. 

And taking another Dorian Rhythm,^ we shall very 
soon see the difference between the two : 

I 1st Pythian. 




1st Subject. 

2nd Subject. 






1st Subject. Fragment of 2nd ist Subject. 






1st Subject. 




2nd Subject. 

1st Subject varied. 

I I I . n I I 


1st Subject in 
original form. 

2nd Subject. 





9 9 tf 



2nd Subject. 

I I 

"«? a^_^ j^_ 








2nd Subject. 






ist Subject. 






1 r 


^ — :7=^zzz:^=z^: 

Antistrophe the same. 




and Subject. 

1st Subject. 

^^z^z:]5i^«p=|==^?a5T==l=1=T ' 


.1 I 


7-»'-^- ^-^- 


2nd Subject. 

1st Subject. 


Subject. 1st Subject, 

1st Subject varied, 2nd Subject. ist. 




1st Subject varied. 

2nd Subject. 

\zlzzi^zz^~jizzMz=Mzz\%-^-==z ^=z^zz^:=^^~ iii-\zz^^=.j^zJ( 


1st Subject. 

2nd Subject. 

1st Subject varied. 






2nd Subject much emphasised. 


1st Subject varied. 

ist Subject. 



%zzMzzU—ii.ziM-=.-^zz --JtizMzz-^. 




Or that fine Dorian Rhythm, the ist Nemean, 

1st Subject. 

^zijzi— 4 

^-lT-^—-^—-^—-ati z-^zzL^zzM. 




2nd Subject. 


i»«— i>*T ^■ 


2nd Subject. 


i r 



1 r 


2nd Subject much emphasised. 







7 — g gi — <i^ gi 

i^zuzj^ — g^: 

-^ — ^- 

2nd Subject. 



»' a^ t ffl^ . ffli' ^ f fTiJ" 







;ai! a! g'~ 

-^ g" — <^- 

Antistrophe the same. 


1st Subject varied. 

2nd Subject. 



i z^zzMz^zzMz \% z^zz^zw:i \ z^zz^ z^z^zz\ 

1st Subject varied. 


2nd Subject extended. 



1st Subject. 






-— 1 


2nd Subject emphasised and extended. 




1st Subject. 

^ 3^: 


2nd Subject curtailed. 

1st Subject. 





7— gi a^— ^ 4^- 


Now we may well ask how did the Dorians develop 
this method of structure, and was it some peculiarity 
of their dances, whose measured tread certainly gave 
their Rhythm its body and majesty ? or was it not 
rather that they were the direct heirs of the Homeric 
Music, in which we noticed, as already laid down 
before the times of Homer, that principle of structure, 
which we described as the mysterious secret of all 
Musical Form, or more generally of Music itself. 
For the ground Phrasing of Homer, as we mentioned 
a page ago, was Two Phrases to the line. But it is 
of the Feet he used that we are now rather speaking, 
for these are rather the prototypes of the Dorian Rhythm. 
For the Feet of the Hexameter are Two in number, 

— \j\j, and , and the play of these Feet makes 

the music ; and if we will but consider the Dorian 


Subjects as a development of these feet, for they are 
two in number hkewise, and their play makes the 
piece, we may say indeed that the Hexameter was a 
Fugue in embryo, and only waiting for an expansion 
of its parts, to assume the trappings and compjucxion of 
regular Fugal Form. And the same principle of Con- 
trast, which governed the Natural Selection of the Feet 
that should compose the Hexameter, governed the 
artistic choice of Subjects that should form the Dorian 

Fugue, for these two subjects, _ww_ww , and 

_w , which form the subjects of the Fugues we 

have written, and others that form the subjects of 
others in like manner, are obviously chosen for their 
contrast to each other, just as the light Dactyl and 
the grave Spondee got their footing in the Hexameter 
originally for the same reason. 

And Pythagoras makes much of the number 4, but 
the writer of this book would rather vaunt the number 
2, which is the Musical Number of the world. For 
Music is itself a Dualism, which is composed of the 
conjunction of two elements, the one Musical, the 
other Poetical, the one Sensuous, the other Spiritual, 
the one owing its origin and development to Instruments 
in company with the Dance, the other owing its 
origin and development to the Voice in company 
with Language. And Music in a more abstract sense 
is also compounded of two elements, which according 
to the Greeks were Male and Female ; for it is 
composed of Rhythm and Melody. And Rhythm is 
the male element, and Melody is the female. And 
this, which shows particularly in the texture of Music 
itself, is reflected likewise in the instruments that play 
it. For they are divided into two great groups — 
Instruments of Rhythm, which are the Drums, and 
Instruments of Melody, which are the Pipes and 


Lyres. And each Musical Bar or Foot must consist 
of 2 parts, the Arsis and the Thesis, the heavy beat 
and the light beat. And each line or Clause does 
normally consist of Two Phrases. And the essence 
of our latest Rhythm has consisted of Two Subjects. 
And the progress of Musical Form goes by doubling. 
And first we had one line, the Hexameter, which 
was composed of two parts ; and then the two-line 
Period under Archilochus ; and then the four - line 
Period under Sappho and the Lesbians. And then 
this was doubled by virtue of the Two Movements 
of the Dance, the Strophe and Antistrophe — the Turn 
and Counter-turn. And the Scale, in like manner, 
proceeded by doubling. And thus Melody follows the 
steps of Rhythm. And Harmony, which is the latest 
development of Music, follows in the same line — 
for Harmony is a combination of 2 Melodies, no 
longer side by side, but one above another. And other 
instances of the goings on of this doubling in the 
development of Music we have seen in the course of 
our History — how the instruments doubled their strings 
and the pipes doubled, and the Choruses doubled. And 
for ever there has been, and ever will be a repetition of 
the Primal Form on which the Art rests. And we have 
chosen before to typify the secret character of our art 
by the use of the Angle, which consists of two lines 
united in eternal conjunction, and each indispensable to 
the other's being. But the Greeks, with more perfect 
beauty of expression, pourtrayed Music as the 
Androgyn, being the essence of all Love and Unity, 
for only by Love can Two be made One, being indeed 
in its turn a type of that greater existence, whom 
Zoroaster said was Two, though he knew in his heart 
that He still was One. 

Now I will give two more examples of the Free 



Style, by way of contrast to these last, and so draw 
on to a conclusion : — 



O Tr\ovT-og iv - pvcr-Oev-iig, ot -av rig ap-£T- 


^-^=3§ gii=^EgiiS=^?^ 

a KEK-pct - jU£ 




ai- oc av- 


rjp Hot- hov ttci- pa - Sov-roc, ow " tov a - va - yp 

7roX-v(p - I - Xov fTT- £ Tav. 5) Ste -o-fiop^ 'Ap-K£(T-t-Aa, 




(Tu rot vtv kAutoc cu - w-voc O.K - oav pa-Qfd-cwv It-iro 

(Tvv £i; - 00^ - I - a /le - Tav - lu 




f K - a - Ti \pv - (rap - jia- tov YLaa - to - poc ' 
: =^zizg!=:a ^ g=g'z:zi^=ia|— n^— pSzz^— i^=:gzz:gz=j 

£U - Si - av oc |U£ - T« ^£t - fii - pL - ov ofi- 

€pov r£-ov Kara-i'OixT g-a fxa-Kca-pav ea - ti - av. 




ffii^i: ^z:i ^ zz:g=:i^ 5=aJ=i^=g=|§E^^i^=iS^zj 

CTO-fiot ce rot k(IA- Ai- 

)t-pOV- Tl KCll 



T(iv ^e- 6g- §0 - Tov ^v-va-fxiv. o-l 8' £()- X<^-/'£" 





fv St - Ka TToX- vg 6\-tog Itfx - (pi - vi - jue-toi' 

L^ZpZ-^—p \ZZpZ-pI=p}-=^Z 

^z[zMzzM^^z\zM^\:5z m—m>zziizzw r:\zii=MziMzzi^ 

TO julv 6t - I |3ao-tX - evg la- - al fxey-a\ - av ttoXimv, 



£)(« (Tvy-yevrig 6(f)da\iLiog aid- - 01- otut - ov jepag 

re- a tov - to fiiy- vvfx - £v - ov (f)pe-vi ' 


UOK- ap 


/, kXe - 

fv - - vag o - Tl 



C=r L 

9 9 1 

\og Tj - §17 7ra - pa TlvB - - i - ad - og tV- 

[ -m—MzzM' fz Mzzwi—^ -l^ ziai—wizzMizz^ z ^ziMzizmzz-i 
TTOig iX-wv Se- Ses -a( rov- ^e kw- ^ov av - Ip-wv, 








'AttoXXwv- l- ov a - - dvp-jua, tw cte juri Xa-dhd) 



Ku- prt - vrt yXv-Kuv o/i - - - (p\ KCi - TTOv'A^ - po-8<- 







Tag a - - u- ?OyU - f i' - ov ttoi'- rr /if y S'e - 6v o(- 



_ ii « «r IK 




rt - oy VTT - - ep - TL - difi- fv ' (^t - Xtt oe K«|0- 

TOP f's - o\ fr - at- owi' ' fig ov tuv 'Ett- i-/.ia6- 

oi// - n' - d - oi» ^v - ya - ri- 

£ - Of ay - lov 

pa npd(^acr(v. Bar - Ti-^av a0 - t - - k£- ro do/iiovg 





z:g==^z= ^-| =aj^=g=:a^= g 

^f/.t -«e - " Kpe - 6v-T(x)V ' aXX' ttp - i(T - Sap - jua-rov 



Ka<T -raX - i 


t,£V - 10- 




Hg je- pag a/u. 


r£ - CIL - (TIV KOfxaiQ. 

In which wc may admire the grace of the Strophe's 
close, and also the exuberance of the Metabole, or 
Change of Time, which is perhaps still more strongly 
marked in the followino- : 




TPI20AYM - - ni- - NI-KAN 

£7r - ai - vi - Mv 

01 - KOV itjU - £p - OV OCT - TOig, stl- 01 - - CTL Sf ^EO- 



zz^—-^— :ziatzz:«t i-^*. 



air - ov - Til, -yi'oj - ao - /nui 

av oX - €/ - ai' 

Kop-u' - Bov.lau - fit- ov irpo-Ov-pov Hot - n - cu- 



vof, ay - Xa- o-Kov-pov. £v to. yap JLv - vofx-i - a vai- 

ft, Kaaiy - vrj - rdi re, jSaOpov 7ro\-i- ojv ua - - <f)a\tg. 





At -Ka Koi hfx- or - - po- ttoc Ei - pa - va, TUfx-iai dv- 




^pucnirXovTOv, \pv-:Te- ai -nrcu-^ic iu^ov - \ov Qi/uiTog 




tO - tX - ov - - -f S'aA-f's - f'l' "Y^piv, Kopou 

:^=^=:^=| =i^=ig=: ^z:j=g!zz:^=§=a! =i^E p i:i^z=i^ii:i ^= 

^a - re - pa ^paav - - /uv- Oov. t - \(i) 


.. -J -I ^S- - : 
7—^ —d ^ a - 

(j)pa-(Tcn, roA - fui rt fxoi ti» - ^ft - a yAioa- 

crav op - vv - u Xty -fti'. a-fxay^- ov ce Kpv-\pai 

TO o-uy- yei'-fc ^-^Of. vfi-jULV 8f, TraT - Se^'AAm- ra, 


TToA-Aa /ifv VI - fca-^op-ov ay - \a - i- av lo - iraa-av 




aK-pair dp - i-Toig v- irep - e\- doy - rwv k - po - 7c 




\v €i-W\-oig, TToXXttS'tv Kop-Si-atc aV - Spwv e€aXoi' 


'Q - pat TTuX-v-av - 9e- lua dp-\aX - a ao-^'ia- 

M=^5z=^_Iz1=IrIC— :=1=z:jvi^==j-n- 

T—ji —^- Yi—^- 



Y a-irav S' iv - poi' -roc ep-yov, rai At -ov - v 

(Tou TTO-Oev ts - £^ -af -£v iTui' po - rj - Aa 




ra ^a- pt -rtc" ot " Ov-pd/x- €<jJ ; rtc yi^p '^r - TTCt 

o<c EV fi' - TC(T - ffti' jut -rpa, 

7> 3'£ -wi; 


oTcr - tv 01 - w - vCjv /3a - o-t - \ia Si - Sv - 






iTnOrjK ; Iv St Moto-' a- Svtt-vo-oc, ei* S' "Ap?]c aV- 

/£l V£ - WV OU 

u - Xt - aig alx - /xaT- (T(v aVo-pwi', 


And I would willingly give some more examples of 
the Dorian Rhythm, and also some beautiful Frag- 
ments of Bacchylides, and some Dithyrambic Fragments 
of Simonides, but it would only be to illustrate again 
similar principles to those we have met with already, 
which by this time we are in a position eminently 
to understand. For looking at all these compositions 
that we have met with here, and finding them so 
different to the music which we are accustomed to 
ourselves, we shall very readily be able to sum up 
the points of difference, and to write them in a few 
comprehensive characteristics. And if I were asked 
what constituted the crowning difference, or typical 
characteristic of Greek Music, and I am now 
speaking principally of those pieces that we have 
become acquainted with in the latter portion of its 
development, under the Choral Poets and Pindar — 
being asked, then, to select the leading characteristic. 
I should take this last Ode that we have given, as 
an eminently typical one of them all, and should say 
that the leading difference between the Greek Style 
and ours was this very use of the Metabole, which 
is so eminently marked in this last Ode, although 
the same characteristic is to be found penetrating 
them all. For not only are the Lydian and /EoHan 
Rhythms rich in countless Metaboles, but the Dorian 
Rhythm equally so, for its play of Two Subjects is 
based on the Metabole, and the very essence of its 
beauty lies in it. Now there are some, no doubt, who 
judging other ages by the standard of their own will 
censure the use of this manner entirely, as mere- 
tricious and bad — they will see in it a straining after 
effect, a restlessness and feverishness, indeed, and 
compare it to restless modulation of key in our own 
music, and condemn it as unworthy of that chastity 



of taste, for which the Greeks are so justly to be 
admired. But first we must remember that the 
Greeks lived in the youth and vigour of Rhythm, and 
we in its decay — then Rhythm was lusty and full of 
blood, now it is old and worn, and other and younger 
beauties of Music have risen up to compensate us for 
its loss. And to show this position a little plainer, let 
us see what we have lost which the Greeks had : We 
have lost 5 time, we have lost 7 time, we have lost 
their vivacious accentuation of the bar — every bar 
with us must have its accent on the first note in it, 
unless it be an irregularly formed bar — but with them 
all the regular bars admitted this vivacity, and the 
accent might fall where it pleased. And next the 
aXoyia has wholly disappeared, which is ill replaced by 
our clumsy rallentando. And also that free play of 
Emphasis or Accent, (the Antithesis), which we call 
Syncopation, and which in excess is unpleasant to our 
cars. This has been the work of Phonetic Decay, and 
the Rhythm that we are acquainted with is at best a 
degraded and worn Rhythm. So that we must be chary 
of taxing a younger age than ours with the fullness of 
its Rhythmic life, for this would be like an old man 
carping at the buoyant spirits of youth, because he can 
no longer feel them himself. For we indeed are the 
old of the world, and what we falsely call antiquity is 
its youth ; for if we are still the buds on the rosebush, 
the same plant has produced us all, and those that 
are perished and gone were the roses of its prime, 
but we are the seed of old age. How old and tired a 
Time does ours seem by contrast to this glowing 
one ! — our Time, which starts and continues with 
mechanical precision the same from beginning to end. 
Now this freedom of Rhythm we found was in- 
trocuced into Greek Music by the influence of the 



Dithyramb. For the regularity of Homer's music re- 
sembled the decrepitude of ours, as indeed infancy and 
old age are always near together, and the simplicity of 
the first is repeated in the feebleness of the second. And 
although from his time onwards we remarked a growing 
freedom of rhythmic movement, yet it did not come 
before us in any pronounced manner till the Dithyramb 
began to exercise its influence on Music, which by 
breaking through the conventional forms, and courting 
or rather demanding freedom of treatment, seemed 
first to have turned men's minds to the possibility of 
such free musical utterance as we have just been con- 
sidering. The Metabole, then, was the first transfiguration 
of the Dithyramb ; but a second and greater nobility 
awaited it, which however we cannot at present consider. 
For we left it basking at the court of Hiero, and 
thither we must return for a moment, to speak first of 
other things than it. For we have not yet said what 
wealth was poured on the musicians there, or what 
luxurious lives they led in the sunshine of opulent 
Syracuse. Indeed it was well that they developed their 
wonderful freedom of style, seeing how easily life came 
to them all. For the court of Hiero was the wealthiest and 
most gorgeous court after the court of the Persian kings,^ 
and Hiero was the most lavish and liberal of princes. 
And there he lived " in the fragrance of the sweetest 
music, that we sing," says Pindar, " as we sit round his 
hospitable table."^ And Pindar says that " the sweetly 
sounding lyres and the dances recognise Hiero as he 

^ d(pveav fiaKaipav 'lipwvog iaTiav. Olymp. I. 1 7. 
Tpdiret^av. lb. 22. 


enters the hall."^ And there is a sheen of gold all 
around, and the court of Hiero is like the court of 
Menelaus, logre yap rjeXlov aiyXtf tteXet' tjI o-eXTjvrjc ^(jjfia 
»ca0' v-ip£p£(pEg MeveXaov Kv^aXifioto. And the verses of 
Pindar are dusted with gold, for he sings of ' gold 
that glitters like blazing fire in the night time,'^ and 
he compares his ' lovely song,'^ to a building, and himself 
to the architect, and he says, *we must set 
golden pillars beneath the porch of our firm house, 
and make a glitter that will be seen afar,'4- and then he 
talks of ' opening the portals of the hymn,' which are 
these very golden ones, * to the mule chariot that has 
won the crown at Olympia.' Gold is showered over 
his verses,^ and they glitter with colours too. For 
look at this rainbow, a Se (J)oivik6kpokov — " laying down 
her scarlet wove girdle and her silver urn, beneath 
the dark bushes she bore the godlike boy. And the 
babe lay amid the yellow and purple beams of beds 
of violets." A man must have lived among colours 
who could sing like this. And this was the age of the 
great painters no less than the great musicians, for 
the Art of Painting, which had begun in luxurious 
Sicyon, had now reached its zenith under Zeuxis, who 
was a native of Heraclea in Magna Graecia. And 
through all the cities of Sicily and Magna Grsecia 
ran the rage of luxury and profusion. The city of 

* ah{>\oyoL Se viv Xvpai jnoXTrai re yiyvwtTKOVTi. Olymp. 
VI. l6i. 

^ XpvaoQ alOofxevov 7ri/p are ^lairpiireL vvkti, 

^ ifiapTrj doioi}. 

^ ^pwcrtac viroaTaaavTeQ cursi^Et 7rpo0uptj) &C., ap^^o/xevoc 
o epyov 7rpo(T(U7roi; xpri ^efxtv TrjXavyig. 

5 The old woman in Pausanias to whom the ghost of Pindar dictated a 
poem in a dream, was at any rate consistent in employing in her transcript a 
remarkable golden epithet for Plutus, which Pausanias has thought worth 


Agrigentum in Sicily sent three hundred chariots, all 
with white horses, to the Olympic games. The citizens 
wore garments of cloth of gold, and had golden 
strigils to use at the bath. And even their oil flasks 
were of gold and silver. There were wine cellars in 
the houses that contained 300 vats each, cut out of 
the solid rock, and each vat would hold a hundred 
hogsheads of wine. And outside the city there was 
a great artificial lake, two and a half miles round, 
stocked with all sorts of fish for the public dinners, 
and covered with swans and waterfowl swimming about 
on the lake, and it was a charming sight to see.^ 
And in the city of Crotona in Italy, the chief magis- 
trate wore purple garments, and a gold crown on his 
head, and white shoes on his feet. And in the city 
of Sybaris the luxury reached its greatest height. 
The Sybarites wore clothes of the finest Milesian wool, 
dyed of a rich purple, and 'their knights wore saffron- 
coloured vests. The boys also were all dressed in 
purple, and had their curls tied with threads of 
gold. The Sybarites had such delicate ears, that they 
would allow no trades in their city which made a 
rasping noise. They would not have blacksmiths, or 
carpenters, or any such trades in the city.^ And 
they used to banquet perpetually night and day, and 
they came to such a pass that they must needs teach 
their horses to dance to the sound of the flute during 
the banquets to amuse them. And in Tarentum, 
which was a neighbouring city, the people were yet 
more effeminate, for they made it a practice to rub 
all the hairs off their body with pumice stone. They 

1 See the stones in Dlodorus' i.^tli book. 

2 See the account in Athena^us. ntc; Truioixrag \po<pov -f 



also wore transparent garments, like the Coan women 
afterwards wore, so that the delicious spectacle of the 
naked body could be seen through the clothes. 

Such then was the state of things in Sicily and 
Magna Graecia, when Pythagoras came from Samos, 
and settled in the city of Crotona. 



THE GREEKS, (continued.) 

He, coming from Samos to Crotona in Italy, told 
the women to leave ofif their gaudy apparel, and the 
men he exhorted to temperance and frugality of life. 
And having a most beautiful voice,i and a majestic 
presence,^ and being at the same time the most 
beautiful man, they say, that any age had seen, 3 he 
seemed like a god to those who heard him. And he 
was schooled in all the learning of the East, and 
profoundly versed in the erudition of his native land. 
He had shared the friendship of Anaximander, and 
had sat at the feet of Pherecydes. He had discussed 
the origin of the Universe with Thales at Miletui, 
and the beauty of virtue with Bias of Priene. He^ 
had spent twelve years in the temples of Babylon, 
studying music and arithmetic under the tuition of 
the Magi.4^ He had been initiated into the mysteries 
of Adonis in Tyre and Byblus, passing among the 
Phoenician hierophants as one of them.s He had pene- 

1 Porphyry. Vita Pythagorse. Vatican Edition, p. 15. 

2 o-e/^voTrpfTTtcrraToc. Diogenes Laertius. VIII. I. 8. 

^ ev/xop(p6TaTog tCov ttwitot^ itTTopridivTMV. Jamblichus. 
Vita Pythagoras. II. 

'* Jamblichus. IV. apiOfxiov re KOt fiovmKrig ett aKpov 
IXBibv. He learnt his Religion, I imagine, in Egypt ; but his Music and his 
Mumbers rather in Babylon. 

5 Jamblichus, III. 


trated into the inmost recesses of Egyptian temples, 
witnessing those secret ceremonies, and learning those 
mysteries of knowledge which were revealed to the 
priests alone.^ He had inured himself to a life of 
ascetic frugality ; his sleep was short, his soul was 
vigilant and pure, and his body confirmed in a state of 
perfect and invariable health.^ . And such guard did he 
set on himself, that he was never known to be angry, 
or to be overcome by any passion.3 Nor was his face 
ever clouded with carc^ And in this way then he 
appeared among the people of Italy. And the people 
said, Who is this man that has come among us, who 
talks so beautifully to us, and exhorts us to wisdom 
and virtue ? And some said he was the Pythian, and 
others that he was the Hyperborean Apollo. And 
others said. No, but he is Paean, that is, the God of 
Healing, for he heals us of all our infirmities. Others 
would have it that he was one of those spirits who 
inhabit the moon, and some said that he came from 
Olympus. Thus the people united to praise him, but 
those of his immediate disciples would have told you 
that he was not indeed a god, but belonged to a third 
order of beings, who approach near the confines of 
deity. For that there were three orders of beings, first 
gods, then men, and then such beautiful beings as 
Pythagoras.5 x 

And when he first touched the shores of Italy, he 
held a discourse in the open air to the people, and 
more than two thousand were converted on that day to 
his doctrines. And what he had exhorted them to do 
was this, that they should live in harmony and concord 
with one another, and have all their possessions in 

^ Id. IV. £v Toiq d^vTOig. 

2 Id. III. 3 Id. II, 4 Porphyry. 35. 5 Jamblichus. VI, 

A A 


common, since the highest virtues in humanity were 
friendship and love,, and wliere these were present all 
other virtues were present likewise. And these people 
received the words of Pythagoras as if they were 
counsels from heaven, and dwelling in harmony and 
love with one another, and sharing all their possessions 
in common, they were called by other men, " The 
Blessed " ; so happy and peaceable was their Hfe.^ 

And Pythagoras exhorted men particularly to respect 
and honour their elders, saying that in nature no less 
than in the affairs of men that which went before 
is more honourable than that which follows after ; 
thus is the East more honourable than the West, the 
morning than the evening, the beginning than the end, 
and to create greater than to destroy. And he said 
to the youths, Ye owe as much thanks to your 
parents, as one who is dead to him that could bring 
him back to life.^ 

And the common people of the cities of Sicily 
and Magna Graecia were in great slavery to the rich, 
and some of these cities were in slavery to one another. 
And Pythagoras taught men the beauty of liberty,^ 
and so inspired them with his ideas by means of the 
discourses he held in the various cities, that he is 
said to have restored the following cities to liberty 
and good government -A Sybaris, Catana, Rhegium, 
Crotona, Himera, Agrigentum, Tauromenium, and many 
other cities, and to some he gave new and better 
laws, as to the city of Catana ; and Zaleucus, who drew 

I Jambliclius. VI. 2 Jamblichus. VIII. 

^ (fipoviiniaTOQ iXsvOepiov vTroirXiiaag. 

4 dvEilXev apdr]v (ttuctiv, &C., //.^x^i ttoXXmv (jjq itrropeiTai 


up the laws for the Epizephyrian Locrians, was 
instructed by Pythagoras.^ 

And when he was journeying from Sybaris to 
Crotona, he found some fishermen on the seashore, 
who were drawing in their nets which were full of 
fish. And Pythagoras said to them, If I am able to 
tell you the exact number of the fish that are in 
your nets, will you give me the fish to do as I please 
with them ? And the men laughingly said they would. 
And Pythagoras told them the exact number of the 
fish. And when the men asked him what he would do 
with the fish now that they were his, he ordered them 
to put them back into the sea again. And in this way 
he came to Crotona, coming like Leonardo in after days 
to Milan, who came playing on a horse's head made 
of gold, and setting the singing birds at liberty as he 
passed along the streets. And Pythagoras having paid 
the fishermen the price of the fish, went on his way 
to Crotona, charging them to tell no one what had 
occurred. But they spread the story about all the 
more, and having learnt his name from a little child 
with whom he had talked on his way, they informed 
the Crotonians who was coming to their city. And 
the Crotonians, hearing that it was indeed Pythagoras 
who was coming, assembled in the senate house to the 
number of a thousand, and when Pythagoras entered 
the gates of the town, they escorted him to the 
senate house, and desired him to unfold to them what- 
ever he might think profitable for the public welfare 
of Crotona. And he advised them first of all to build 
a temple to the Muses, to be an earnest that they 
would try and preserve concord and good order in 

I Jambljchus, VHi 


the state. For that the choir of Muses presided over 
Harmony, Melody, and Rhythm, which are the three 
principles of Music, and these principles did not end 
here, but were in operation throughout all life and 
all actions.! ' And the meaning of these words the 
people of Crotona did not understand then, but they 
understood them later on. And knowing that they 
were much given to licentiousness of living, he said : 
" The compact between man and wife must above all 
things be observed, for other compacts indeed are 
engraven in stone or brass, but this is engraven in little 
children." And he went on to extol virtue and 
beautiful manners, and exhorted them to rouse them- 
selves from sloth and idleness, for that life meant, in 
one word, the taking advantage of opportunities, and 
there was no more than one opportunity for every 
action. And in this way did he proceed in his discourse, 
speaking what was easy to be understood, and not 
bewildering them with any difficult theories, and doing 
no more than hint, indeed, what was the means to the 
attainment of the highest virtue. But this means he 
intended to use hereafter, and it was Music which he 
would use for this purpose, for what he intended to do 
was to embody the principles on which Music reposes, 
and make them live and play in life before him. 

And the people being well pleased with what they 
heard, asked him the next day to speak to the boys 
of the town, who were ordered to assemble in the 
temple of the Pythian Apollo, and the women were 
meanwhile to assemble in the temple of Juno, and 
there he was to address them afterwards. And 
Pythagoras said to the boys : " The gods love boys 

I Jamblichus. IX. XV, 


more than all the world beside, and this is the 
reason," said he, " that processions of boys are sent to the 
temples in times of drought to pray that rain may come ; 
because the gods would sooner grant the prayers of 
beautiful boys than they would of any other suppliant 
for all their sacrifices. And this is the reason that 
those gods who love men most, Apollo and Eros, are 
always pourtrayed as boys, for they are pourtrayed in 
the form they love the best. And three out of the 
four great games of Greece were instituted in honour 
of boys, for the Pythian Games were instituted in 
honour of young Apollo, and the Nemean in honour 
of Archemorus, who was a little boy that lay down 
by the side of a fountain to sleep, and a serpent 
crept up and killed him. And the Isthmian in honour 
of Melicerta, who was another boy, that was after- 
wards made a god of the sea." And so he went on 
to tell them, that if they would be as beautiful as 
these boys were, and earn as great renown, they must 
endeavour to be modest and good, for what they were 
in boyhood, that they would probably be all their 
lives long. That they must learn to listen before they 
can expect to speak, and must never revile, or harbour 
unkind thoughts against one another, but gentle words 
and useful actions must be their aim. And to the 
women he said : " Tf the gods are to hear your 
prayers, they must come from modest lips. Costly 
sacrifices will- be no screen to impurity, nor the 
multitude of gifts to an immodest life. Let your 
sacrifices be simple and unpretending — cakes of meal, 
or barley bread, or honey cakes, or some such thing 
which your own hands have made,i and think it no 
shame to bring them and place them on the altars 

I Philostratus. De ApoUonio Tyanensi. I. i. 


yourselves, without a train of servants to accompany 
you. And place no delight in adorning your person, 
for have not the poets fabled how three women in 
the olden times were content with one eye between 
them ? and so might ye well be content with one 
ornament between many, passing it from one to the 
other as the occasion demanded. For jewels and costly 
dresses are no glory to a woman, but to be spoken 
well of by her neighbours — that is her glory." 

And the women, after they had heard him, did no 
longer dare to wear costly dresses and jewels, but 
they took their most sumptuous and costly dresses, 
and dedicated them in the temple of Juno, as gifts 
to the goddess ; and there were some thousands of 
costly dresses lying in the temple.^ And the men of 
the city, who had formerly entertained great numbers 
of courtesans in the city, put them away, and returned 
to their wives, and the fidelity of the husbands to 
the wives in Crotona^ was soon renowned throughout 
all Italy. And Pythagoras said, that since the men 
had imitated the fidelity of Ulysses, who would not 
abandon Penelope for all the immortality and delights 
that Calypso held out to him, that so the women 
should imitate the fidelity of Penelope, who amidst 
all her trials and temptations yet remained true to 
Ulysses. And very soon Crotona, from being one of 
the most voluptuous and licentious cities in the world, 
became a pure and well conducted city. 

And meanwhile Pythagoras went on to develop his 
system of Moral Education, and his principles were 
these : He held that all Moral Instruction must come 
through the senses.^ And that the Intellect was dis- 

1 Jambliclius, XI. 2 Id. IX. 

2 wpwTriv eivai Totg avdpwTroig rrjv St' ata^/jtrewc iTTLfxiXuav 


connected with the Moral Faculties, and had no 
power over them. For if the Intellect could dis- 
criminate between right and wrong, its abstract 
decisions had no influence on action, which followed, 
in all cases, as the unconscious, or automatic result of 
the Passions and Affections. In this way he 
distinguished between the Moral Faculties, as uncon- 
scious and spontaneous in their manifestations, and the 
Intellectual, as conscious and deliberative. And the 
Moral belonged to the Sensuous or unthinking part of 
Man, but the Intellectual to the Spiritual or reflective 
part. Now the Moral, ending in sensuous action, must 
likewise begin with sensuous impression. ^ And in this 
way he was led to distrust Precept, as at all an 
effective engine in moral education^ — although he used 
it, as he scarce could help, but this was only at first. 
For Precept, indeed, may teach the head to distinguish 
most nicely between right and wrong, but can never 
teach the heart to wish for what is right. To do this 
the approach must be made through the direct avenues 
to the heart, which are the Senses ; and by habituating 
them to a familiarity with beautiful things, so will the 
passions and affections, which are so closely dependent 
on them for their tenor, be insensibly led to love what 
is beautiful and good, and hence virtuous action will 
follow.3 For virtuous action, to merit the name, must 
be the undisputed manifestation of the passions and 
affections of the heart. For what Pythagoras said of 
himself was this, that then only he thought he had 
attained to virtue, when he could follow every wish of 

1 Jamblichus. XV. 

2 Jamblichus. 

3 Jamblichus. XV. 



his heart, and yet do right.^ And here, I conceive, 
Hes the difference between the Pythagorean theory of 
morals and the Christian theory. For the Christian 
conception of virtue is as a thing which is attained by 
crushing and stamping on the passions, but the 
Pythagorean, as their very flower. The Christian ideal 
is reached by doing violence to our nature, but the 
Pythagorean by training it to climb.^ And Pythagoras A 
held that of all the Senses which have most immediate 
influence on the heart, the sense of hearing was the 
chief. And he said, that seeing beautiful sights, indeed, 
was a mighty means to fix the heart on beauty, but 
still more was hearing beautiful sounds.^ For they 
are so much more subtle in their texture, and may 
be varied to so infinite a degree, and besides are 
constantly at hand in every musical instrument ; while 
beautiful sights and forms are not so often seen. 
And for this reason, and also because of other reasons 
which we shall presently say, he chose the hearing 
as the sense by which he would convey beautiful 
impressions to the soul, and music to be the fount 
of those impressions.''- And first he would have the 
people banish the Flute from their city, for the 

1 Let us compare this with that remark of Confucius, whose views are so 
much in accord with those of P3'thagoras : " At 15," says Confucius, " my mind 
was bent on learning. At 30, I stood firm . At 40, I had no doubts. At 50, I 
Icnew the decrees of Heaven. At 60, my ear received truth. At 70, I could 
follow what my heart desired, without transgressing what was right." Lun 
yu. II. 4. This is one of the many points of similarity between the two. 
Others still more interesting might be quoted e.g. the Chinese doctrine of 
the trigrammes and Pythagoras' triad, which might well be compared by 

2 Confuciusin like manner, " Wickedness is not inherent in human nature," 
and " Men are by nature disposed to do good." 

3 Jamblichus. XVi 

''^ ovTto jutv ovv TToXwai^EAEOTarjjv Korcffrijffaro UvOayopac 
Trjv Ota rriQ MovmKrig fbjv avOpoJTTivwv rj^wf Te koi fiiiov 
Inavop OojcnVi 


Flute had something impudent and meretricious in its 
tone. For that the Flute was the courtesan of music, 
but the Lyre was the true wife,^ and so he would 
have them abide by the Lyre alone. /And next he 
composed certain divine mixtures of Diatonic, En- 
harmonic, and Chromatic Melodies, which were designed 
as antidotes to moods^ ; as, he had rapid Chromatic 
melodies to counteract depression, and joyful melodies 
to assuage grief, and grave melodies, of mixed En- 
harmonic and Diatonic, to curb desire, and Orthian 
melodies to banish fear. These and other melodies 
did he make as antidotes to moods. And he also 
selected many verses of Homer and Hesiod, and set 
them to music, in order that the minds of the people 
might be familiarised with heroic sentiments.^ And he 
invented new and powerful rhythms to steady and 
strengthen the mind, and he also used the power of 
rhythm to produce simplicity of character.4 And he 
said that every morning after rising from bed, it was 
right, in order to clear away the lethargy and languor 
from the mind, to play for some time on the Lyre, 
either playing a piece of instrumental music, or else 
accompanying the Lyre with the voice.-^ And in like 
manner he would have them in the evening, before 

1 In the first of the 4 Epistles of Theano. Vatican MS, And she goes 
on to say, koi iroia KOiViovia av\(Jo Koi xopdaTg ', &C. cf. 
Proclus' Commentary in Alcihiad. Prior, to the same effect. 

^ daifxoviwg fxr]j(avu)fXiva Kspaafxara tivwv f^ieXivv ciatoviKwv 
Ti Koi ■)(ph)fxaTLKCov KciL Ivapjuoviiov. Jamblichus. XV. 

3 Jamblichus. XXV- 

^ Kot pvOawv a<f wv laaug ey^vovro &c. Jamblichus. 

^ Tov KUpov Koi Trig eKXvffeiog kol Trig vwxeXiag aiiTovc 
aTrr/XXao-o-E cia tivojv iStorpoTTwv ^afitiTojV ictti fxeXtcrjLidTwv 
etc, Jamblichus. XV. 


retiring to rest, rid the brain of the noises which had 
run through it in the daytime,^ by playing some 
sweet melody on the lyre, dedicating the fringes of 
the day to Music, and particularly the evening, which 
should clear the troubled waters of the mind, and 
invite to tranquil repose.^ And before they sank to 
sleep, they were to remember the words of his 
Golden Song : " Never close your eyes in slumber, 
before you have cast up all the actions of the day. 
Say to yourself, In what have I sinned ? What have I 
done, and what have I left undone? And so go 
over all, upbraiding yourself with the bad, and 
rejoicing at the good ones." And Pythagoras himself 
would always play the Lyre, morning and evening, 
often accompanying it with his voice, and singing 
most sweetly the Paeans of Thales or the verses of 

These then were some of the plans he used with 
the people at large, but he used a closer and a 
stricter system with his immediate disciples ; for he 
selected chosen disciples from among the people of 
Crotona, to educate to the highest virtue. And they 
counted by hundreds, indeed, but yet he was very 
careful in choosing them, and slow in admitting any 
to the ranks of disciples. And it was chiefly the 
youths of the city, whom he chose to be his disciples. 
And before selecting any, he would carefully observe 
their appearance and their carriage, relying much on 
his power of physiognomy, for judging who were likely 
to be suitable to be his disciples, but even more than 
this, he was accustomed to infer their character by 

^ T(jjv iifispivbjv tapaxit)V kol avrj^rjfxariov, 
^ ^liKuOaipe avyKtKkvdaafxivov to VorjTiKov. 
3 Porphyry* 32. 


their walk and the motions of their body.^ For 1 
think it was he, who first laid down how to tell the 
1 character by the walk, laying it down in this way^- 
that those who take long and equal steps in their 
walk, walk in the rhythm of the Spondee, and that 
you will find them as a rule possessed of well- 
regulated minds, and also of great strength of 
character ; but those who take long but yet unequal 
steps, walk in the rhythm of the Trochee or the Pseon, 
and that these have more warmth in their constitutions 
than is good for them ; those who take short steps, 
even though the steps are equal, must be held to 
walk in the rhythm of the Pyrrhic, and will be found 
to be mean and petty in their dispositions ; but those, 
who, besides taking short steps, take them in unequal 
time as well, are dissolute, good-for-nothing fellows, 
and next door to madmen, whom it is best on all 
occasions to avoid. This, I conceive, gives a fair idea 
of the theory of Pythagoras about walking, and why 
he placed so much stress on the observation of men's 
carriage, for he was accustomed to pay a scrupulous 
attention to detail, and thus was ' enabled to form 
general opinions of such depth and accuracy, that 
they were often accepted as divine intuitions ; as 
when he reconstructed a statue of Hercules, of which 
only the foot remained, but he did this by taking an 
accurate measurement of the foot, and then determining 
the proportions of the rest of the body agreeably to 
• I the size of the foot. And if Pythagoras was satisfied 
l\ with the observations he made by such means as this 
\ on the character of him who would be his disciple. 

^ 7rpO(T£0£Wp7}(T£ Sc Kat TO EtSoC KCli TrjV TTOpduV KOL ttjl) 

oXrjv rou (TWfxarog Kivr^cnv &c., ^vaioyviofXQVihv avTOiig &Ci 
2 Cf. the passage in Aiistides Quinetilianus. p. 97^ 


he then decided to admit him to the number of his 
disciples. And for the first three years he treated 
him with indifference, and even with contempt, and 
carefully observed how he bore himself under this 
ordeal. And if he stood this test, he then required 
him to observe a vow of silence for five years, during 
which time he was to speak to no one, not even to 
his most intimate friend, but was to employ all his 
attention in listening. And in this way his sense of 
hearing was cultivated to a most exalted perfection, 
for it was the only means of communication between 
him and the outer world, and, by the acuteness and 
excessive sensitiveness which it gained during this 
period of hard probation, was well prepared for that 
divine infusion of musical beauty, which was presently to 
be poured through it into the soul.^ And Pythagoras 
had another aim in view besides this, in imposing a 
vow of silence on his disciples. For he considered 
that the power of keeping silence was far higher and 
greater than the power of speaking, and was 
never weary of extolling EXEMY9IA, which means, 
" Control over the tongue." And he has finely said. 
That it is easier to keep from doing wrong, than to 
keep from reproving those we see doing it.^ 

This then was the great discipline and hard pro- 
bation of the Pythagoreans, I mean this vow of silence, 
which whosoever succeeded in accomplishing, was 
forthwith enrolled as a member of the select order,' 
And since it is the great order of the Pythagoreans 
that we are here speaking of, for these disciples of 
Pythagoras were called " The Club of Pythagoras," 
or, " The Brotherhood, or Fraternity of Pythagoras," 

1 Jamblichus. XVII. 

2 In Stoboeus. 147. 


or, more generally, " The Pythagoreans," and it is 
this great order that we are speaking of, an order, 
by Zeus ! that weathered the storms of centuries, 
lasting for ages in unimpaired vigour after the demise 
of its founder,^ and spreading through all the cities 
of Italy and Sicily, and attaining an influence and 
importanie in the ancient world, which can only be 
paralleled by that of the Templars or the Jesuits in 
modern times, we may well therefore pause to con- 
sider it as closely as we can, and by so doing we may 
see its points of contrast or superiority over those 
stately fraternities of more recent times. And we will 
consider it as near as we can to the date of its 
institution. And we have accounts of it as it existed 
in the city of Crotona, when the disciples were 500 
in number, and lived together under the immediate 
superintendence of Pythagoras himself, their daily 
actions regulated, and their education conducted accord- 
ing to the musical principles, which he asserted 
ran through Nature, and formed the spirit of its 

And they had all their possessions in common, 
and listened to his words as to divine inspirations. 
And they knew him as The Master, and that he 
said a thing was sufficient warranty to them of its truth ; 
and they were accustomed to say, " He has said it," 
avTog £(j)a, 'Ipse dixit,' and they knew no pause 
between that and the performance of it. 

And their manner of life, as Jamblichus has described 
it to us, was as follows :— They all rose together at 
an early hour in the morning, and having assembled 
together, they sang' many songs and hymns in chorus, 

I They were in existence in the days of Epaminondas, who was a pupil 
of Lysis, of whom, says Aristoxenus, "he was not the last, but he was one 
of the last," 


which freed their spirits from heaviness/ and attuned 
them to harmony and order. This was sometimes 
varied by instrumental music for a change, without 
the accompaniment of singing. In which case, they 
each took their lyre, and played in concert melodies 
of Pythagoras, or the tunes of those songs and hymns 
they would otherwise have sung. And whether there 
were stated songs for certain seasons, or whether there 
were not even a prescribed rotation of songs for every 
day in the month, or of the year, something in the 
form of a Calendar, as there might well have been, 
we do not certainly know. But this we know, that 
in the Spring, at least, the method of the Morning 
Music was different to what it was at other times. 
For in the Spring, a single lyre-player used to stand 
in the centre of the assembly, and the chorus was 
ranged round him in a ring, and they sang during 
this season only Paeans, or Hymns to Apollo, to the 
accompaniment of a single lyre. And it was important 
during the Spring time, that the Morning Music 
should inspire them with joy, and impress on them 
the feeling of Rhythmic Motion. And perhaps this 
was the reason that Paeans, or Hymns to Apollo, 
were exclusively sung at this season, which were 
always joyful and triumphant in their strain, and 
couched in pure and beautiful rhythm. But why the 
single lyre-player should have been placed in the 
centre of a circle of singers, unless it were in allusion 
to the Lyre of Apollo, which in the Spring Time 
first begins to cheer the circus of the sky after the 
clouds and cold of winter — and this was possibly the 
reason. And after the Music was over, they went for 
a morning walk, and each went his walk alone, choos- 

"^ Trig KOiTV(x)\£XiaQ kol mpov cnrriWa acrovTO, " got the 

bed off," we might translate it. 


ing always such sequestered places where he might 
I find silence and tranquillity, as in the neighbourhood 
I of temples, or in solitary groves, or by running 
I waters, and other such retired spots. And the reason 
t each took his walk alone was this, that they 
!; thought it was not right to hold converse with any 
i; one, until they had first fortified their souls with good 
■ resolves, and attuned their disposition to some lasting 

I key.^ And why they walked in solitary places, was to 

II prevent bad noises getting into their mind, and jolting 
I it,2 And after their walk was over, they all met 

together in some place that had been agreed upon 
beforehand, and generally it was in a temple they met, 
or in a portico, or avenue, and there they walked and 
conferred together, teaching and receiving instruction 
from one another in music,^ arithmetic, and geometry ; 
and the arithmetic and geometry were designed to 
educate their intellect, and the Music, their passions 
and feelings, as we have said before. And there they 
made use of ineffable melodies and rhythms, not only 
to correct any perturbations of mind which might have 
arisen in spite of all their care, but also to sink deep 
into the soul, and subdue any lurking tendency to 
jealousy, pride, concupiscence, excess in appetite, angry 
feelings, looseness of thought, and other weaknesses of 
soul,''- for all of which there were sovereign musical 
specifics, that Pythagoras had prepared like so many 

^ (TVvapfjLoaovTai rriv cidvoiav. 

2 3-opu€wS£c v7r£LXi)(j)eaav "they thought it had a jolting 
effect," we may translate it. Cf. to dg ox^ovg loOuadai, 
in the same passage. 

^ irpog TYiv tCjv r]6ojv kiravopdojaLV. Cf Cap, 1 5. Jambl. 

^ Avirag koI opyag kol t^i]Xovg aroTrovg kol ^o^ovg 
ETTtovjUiac T£ iravToiag koi ^vfxovg Kat opi^ug kol ^avvwaeig 
I Kai VTTTiOTr^Tag koi (T<f)0^p6Tr}Tag. 


drugs/ and with these they cleared and purified the 
souls of one another. After some hours spent in this 
manner, they betook themselves to lawns and gardens, 
to exercise their bodies. And some would practise 
leaping, with dumb-bells in their hands, and others 
would practise calisthenics, and others ran races on 
courses marked out on the lawns, or wrestled together, 
all sedulously practising those exercises, which were 
most likely to improve and strengthen their bodies. And 
after some time spent in this way, they gathered 
together in the common hall towards noon, and had 
their first meal of the day, at which they used singular 
abstemiousness, only eating bread and honey, or a piece 
of honeycomb. The time after dinner was employed in 
transacting the business of the society.^ After this a 
walk, but not a solitary one, as in the morning, but 
in twos and twos, or three together, and their talk 
was of the studies that they had pursued during the 
daytime, and they refreshed their memories by 
repeating portions of them. And when the evening 
came, they again occupied themselves with musical 
concerts for some hours, till it was time to retire 
for the night. And they slept on pure white beds 
with linen coverlets. And this was the manner of 
life they passed from day to day. 

And it will not be hard to see, from an examina- 
tion of this scheme of life, what were the principles 
of Music which Pythagoras had thus made incarnate 
before him, or how he conceived the principles of 

^ TOVTOJv (i.e. \v7rag, upyag, &c.) tKacFTOv dia tCjv 
7rpo(7J)/covrwv fieXwv wg Sm rivbjv trwrrjptwv avyKEKpafxiviov 
^ap/xciictuv, etc. 

^ Trepl rag TroXiriKcig oiKOvofiiag KarayivovTO. I think by 
a comparison with the TroXtrtKot and olKovofxiKol of Cap, 
17. this will be found to be the correct translation of Jamblichus' words. 


Music manifest themselves in life, when their subject 
matter is no longer idle sounds, but the actions of 
men. For leaving out that subtler question of the 
precise effects of Music on the soul through the 
medium of the senses, let us look at the general 
principles of his system in their Musical relations, and 
see how far they were musical principles. For he 
held that all beauty and all excellence of whatever kind 
in the world, were merely the principles of music 
manifesting themselves in that particular kind of 
thing, to which the beauty or the excellence belonged, 
though at first sight they were often not easily 
recognised, owing to the variety of outward form they 
were often compelled to assume.^ So that we may well 
ask what were the Musical principles on which his 
system of discipline was constructed, or rather, under 
what names did the principles of Music appear, now 
that they were taken from the world of sounds, and 
made to penetrate and inform the actions of men ? 
And first the essence of all Musical Sound, and 
difference between it and other sound which is not 
musical, is that its vibrations are regular, while the 
vibrations of other sound are fitful and irregular. 
And this is the reason why some vibrations of 
bodies end only in dull and meaningless noise, but 
others produce pure musical tones. Or, of two 
bodies of the same texture and material, why one 
gives out sounds that do but disturb and weary our 
ear, but the other ravishing melodies. And when 
this principle of musical sound appears incarnate in 

I Jamblichus XVIII. IX. Diogenes Laert. VIII. 33. Theon of Symrna^'s 
Arithmetic. I. \v \lovc!iKr\ ^aaiv &c. Confucius' opinions could 
not liave been very dissimilar. "Bells and drums," he says somewhere, 
" no more exhaust the connotation of Music, thai^ do gems and silks the con-- 
notation of proprietv." 

B B 


life, it is called by a somewhat similar name, being 
known as Regularity, which is the first step to 
virtue or excellence in whatever we undertake, be it 
Art, or Study, or whatever it may be, and by virtue 
of the absence or presence of which, of two men of 
equal parts one will end his life, having uttered only 
dull and meaningless sounds, but the other will have 
produced celestial symphony. For Regularity is the 
soul of Labour, and Labour is the source of all 
greatness, being the petty means by which man 
makes head against the unkindness of nature, and 
carries on high purposes amid the battling confusion 
of life. For this reason Pythagoras trained his 
disciples from the first to habits of strictest regularity. 
And this was the first principle of Music which he 
set in action before him. And we may call this the 
principle of Rhythm, or a form of the principle of 
Rhythm. But the next principle he used, which 
came only second to this, was the principle of 
Harmony. For he was never weary of asserting, that 
the highest of all virtues is Friendship, or Love. And 
he said, 0(Xorrjc laorrjg, laorrig (piXorrig, ' Friendship is 
Equality, Equality is Friendship.'^ And this is what 
led him to that maxim, koivu to, rwv ^(Xujv, ' The 
possessions of friends are common. '^ So that he 
required all his disciples to have their property in 
common, as he had also done with others before 
that time, as when he first landed in Italy, and told 
the people who heard him discourse, that they should 
have all their property in common. And let us see 
how Love is the principle of Harmony in Music. 

1 Confucius in the same way, " Friendship is the first of the social rela- 
tions, and may not for one day be abandoned." 

2 This expression is rightly attributed to Pythagoras by Jamblichus. cap. 19. 



For in Harmony the notes no longer exist separate 
and apart, but side by side. And two notes cling 
together, when it is Harmony we are making, and 
are sounded together, so that ^Elian has finely said, 
that Harmony is like mixing honey with wine, when 
the honey is dissolved in the wine, and both together 
make one substance. Thus is Harmony a wedding of 
the notes, and is aptly shown in life when men love one 
another, and live only for one another. And this was 
the second principle of Music which Pythagoras made 
live and move before him. And the third principle 
was not unlike the first, so that we may say it was but 
another form of the first, for I am now alluding to 
those exercises by which he indued his disciples with 
Strength, as those studies in Arithmetic and Geometry, 
which of all studies are the ones most calculated to 
brace and strengthen the mind, and those athletic 
exercises, which gave strength to the body. And this 
is the principle of Rhythm again, which is the 
principle of Strength. For the power of Rhythm in 
Music is the power of Emphasis, as we may well 
know by listening to a player who has the power of 
Rhythm, and then to one who has it not, and we shall 
easily see who is the stronger of the two. For there 
is a direct physical exertion in playing in high 
rhythm, which a strong character delights in, but a 

i weak character shuns and flinches from it. And strength 
of character in life is but the power of emphasising 
our ideas, and thus is it near akin to the power of 
Labour, which is an eternal replication of emphasis, 
and both are expressed in Music by the principle of 
Rhythm. But what shall we say of the principle of 

! Melody ? And shall we not say that this is the 
principle of Beauty? For the Beauty of Music lies 

\ in its Melody, as its Strength in its Rhythm, and its 


Unity or Love in its Harmony. And I imagine that 
the application of the principle of Melody by Pytha- 
goras, in his system of Education, lay in those 
ineffable melodies, which he poured into the soul- 
through the ear, and taught it to delight in beautiful 
forms, and to love beautiful actions, from the constant 
familiarity with those beautiful shapes of sound, which 
were daily and hourly shed around it. This was his 
reliance on Melody, and this was the beautiful source 
from whence he drew the direct materials of his 
education, that were designed to steep the senses, and 
through them to reach the heart. Thus Melody was 
the most direct and patent in its application ; yet we 
cannot say that greater honour was paid it, or even 
that it was more largely used than the others, but 
rather that they were all most justly used. And these 
three principles, Melody, Harmony, and Rhythm, were 
the three principles of Music, which he conceived to 
run through nature ;i and Rhythm is Strength, Melody 
Beauty, and Harmony is Love, and by the graceful 
co-operation of these three things was that system of 
life arranged for the Pythagoreans, who seem to have 
excelled all other communities, as much as the Art 
of Music itself excels all other forms of beautiful 
existence. And if these things are so fair and com- 
manding in communities and fraternities, what will 
they be when they appear side by side in the 
Individual Man ? I imagine there is nothing more 
happy nor more fortunate than to have possession of 
these three things — Strength, Beauty, and Love. He 
then that will go into the world with these three 
things to follow him, shall be the loveliest sight for 

I Jamblichus. IX. Cf, Theon Syminseus' remarks, particularly on Harmony 
in his Arithmetic. I. p. 15. 


the gods to see, and undisputed master of us all. 

Now over and above the general result of a beautiful 
and virtuous soul, which Pythagoras set before him 
as the end of his education, there were some other 
essentials, which though he did not rank so high were 
yet the next step to virtue, and of the last import- 
ance to be acquired. And these concerned rather the 
outward bearing of life than its inner tenour, and we 
are expressly told that they were grafted on the character 
by means of musical melodies. They were EnA<I>A, 
"Tact," SYNAPMOrA, '' S avoir faired ESAPTSIS, 
" Principle," that is to say, " The sense of social 
touch," secondly, " The power of harmonising our 
actions with those of others," and lastly, " The power 
of adhering to preconceived Form," for so we may 
freely translate the Greek words, which contain a 
musical innuendo, that cannot be well rendered in 
English by one word. And I think it was the stress he 
laid on the acquirement of these things, and particularly 
the first two, which gave the Pythagoreans the social 
and political success which they afterwards acquired. 
And it seems we are here face to face with the 
practical side of Pythagoreanism, as opposed to the 
umbratile and theoretical side of it which we have 
hitherto considered. And meanwhile we are left to 
speculate, how far a delicate sense of musical touch 
implies that sense of social touch, which we well call 
" Tact," since it seems that no faculty ends in itself, 
but men with bright and keen eyesight will generally 
be found to be attentive and shrewd observers of the 
actions of others, or if they have a bad substratum 
of character, they will be inquisitive persons, and men 
with a powerfully developed sense of hearing will 
generally be found to possess retentive memories, or 
if they lack the necessary strength, they will incline 


to servility, being listeners rather than actors.^ And 
in the same way we might imagine that a high 
sense of touch implied Tact, and that^ the power of 
harmonising musical subjects necessarily led to 
SYNAPMOrA in life. [But this train of thought 
would lead us far from our subject, and must there- 
fore not be pursued. And I say that these accom- 
plishments of education, which Pythagoras set so much 
store on, doubtless give us a key to the practical 
side of Pythagoreanism, and were justly regarded by 
him as the finish of education, although not absolutely 
necessary to virtue.^ 

And so glorious were the results that Pythagoras 
achieved by his system of education among the 
people of Crotona, that many wonderful stories are 
reported on this subject. But let us rather hear what 
was said about his own daughter, for this is the best, 
although the harshest test to put the theories of a 
man to, how far has he succeeded with his own 
children. And it was said of the daughter of Pytha- 
goras, that when she was a maiden she was chosen 
to lead the dances of girls, and after she was married, 
she was chosen to be the first to approach the altar.^ 
Nor was it only in moral excellence that the 
Pythagoreans surpassed their contemporaries, but also 
in intellectual greatness. And if we ■ had leisure to 
pursue the fortunes of the order in the centuries 
which succeeded this time, we should find how they 
sustained the great reputation of Pythagoras through 

1 Cluentes i.e. clients, dependents, "listeners." Cf. also the Greek 
kXvw, which means ' to hear,' and also ' to obey.' 

2 In this, I imagine, Confucius went further, laying as much stress on the 
accomplishments as on the other elements of Education, for he says, ' ' When 
the solid qualities are in excess of the accomplishments, we have boorishness ; 
and when the accomplishments are in excess of the solid qualities, we have 
the manners of a counter-jumper. It is only when the two are perfectly 
blended that we get complete virtue." 

3 Jamblichus. XXX. 


all the vicissitudes of fortune they endured. For how 
many wise and noble sayings are reported of them ! 
or how many of the greatest works in Greek Literature 
on Music and Philosophy were written by Pythagoreans ! 
as witness those works by Aristseon on Rhythm and 
Music, Nicomachus on Harmony and Arithmetic, 
Euphranor on the Art of Playing Flutes and Wind 
Instruments, Glaucus' History of Music, or that 
divine work of Philolaus on Origins, or the Pytha- 
gorean Empedocles his Poem on Nature. Nicetas, also, 
from whom Copernicus derived his theory of the 
revolution of the earth,i and Ecphantus, who discovered 
the rotation of the earth on its own axis,^ were 
disciples of the Pythagorean order, with many others 
too numerous to mention. 

Pythagoras being in the city of Tauromenium, the 
following thing is reported of him : It was a little 
before midnight, and he happened to be astronomising 
at the time, when he saw a youth of the city, 
accompanied by a revel piper, making an uproar at 
the door of his mistress, whom he had caught 
returning from the house of a rival, and threatening 
to set fire to her dwelling, and even putting faggots 
at the door. And all this time the piper was playing 
to him the melody of a dithyramb, which urged him 
on to a state little short of madness. And 
Pythagoras persuaded the piper to change his melody 

I Copernicus admits this himself in his letter to Pope Paul III. " Repperi 
apud Ciceronem primum Nicetam scripsisse terram moveri. Inde igttuv 
occasioneni nactus, ccepi et ego de terr<^ mobilitate cogitare^ 

This passage is in Cicero's Academics, where the name is spelt ' Hicetas,' 
so that I imagine Nicetas was the same as Plutarch's 'iKerrje, whom he 
mentions in his Placita Philosophorum. The opinion was Pythagoras', 
though Copernicus derived it through Nicetas. 

^ KLVzt Tr\v 777V T^o^ov StKrjv TTtpt TO tdiov avTriQ kIvtoov, 
Plut. De Placitis Philos III. 13. 


for that of the Libation Hymn of the Delphic 
Services, and in a very short time the young man 
was weeping at the feet of Pythagoras. 

Empedocles, in the same way, is reported to have 
appeased the rage of a youth, who rushed sword in 
hand against the magistrate of the city, by singing to 
his lyre this verse of Homer : — 

vijTTEvOig T a\oX6v rf, kokwv kiriXriOov cnravroov. 
'■'■Here is a spell to banisli grief and anger, and get 
oblivion of every ill!'' 

Pythagoras, happening one day to pass a black- 
smith's shop, heard the anvils making such a musical 
chorus that he could not but stop to listen. And he 
was at the moment engaged in deep meditation on a 
problem that had occupied him for some time past. 
Eor he had often thought to himself that he would 
try and invent something v,^hich should be to the 
ear what compasses or a foot-rule are to the eye, or 
what a pair of scales are to the touch.^ For by the 
invention of scales, the weights of objects can be 
determined with the utmost nicety, whereas before 
scales were invented, and we had to rely on our 
sense of touch alone, by taking the objects in our 
hands, we could only arrive at a very rough estimate 
of their weight, and often an inaccurate one. In the 
same way the eye could make a very poor computa- 
tion of distances, till rules and measuring lines were 
invented, but with the discovery of these it had an 
infallible standard to refer to, which could always pre- 

I Nicomachus. Harmon. I. lo. omv ?j iilv 6\pic Sid tov 
StaSi'/rou /cat Sm tov Kavovog i) in) A.ia Sid Siowrpag £;^a, 1/ 
dh a0?7 Ota ^vyov rj did rrig tCjv fxirfjcov tTTivoiag. 


serve it from error. And Pythagoras had often thought 
if some infalHble balance or measure of Sounds might 
not perhaps be invented, so that by it the ear might 
rectify its impressions of the purity or the pitch of 
sounds, just as the eye of distances by referring to a 
yard measure, or the touch of weights by testing them 
in a balance. And these were the thoughts that were 
in Pythagoras' mind, when he happened to pass the 
smithy that day, and heard the anvils making such a 
musical chorus. And he stopped to listen, and after 
listening some time he clearly distinguished four notes, 
which singled themselves out from the noise of the 
striking, and it was their repetition and clashing which 
made the musical chorus. And the four notes were 
these. A, B, E, and the low 8ve of E, or to write 

them in musical characters F^:— ^=^ F^:— I 


and F^: — ?-3 — .^ And he admired what 


could make this difference of sound, whether it was 
the anvils, or the hammers that struck them, or the 
force of the strokes, or what it was. And he went 
into the shop, and ask the men to allow him to 
experiment for a moment on the sounds their anvils 
were making. And first he asked them to strike 
harder blows on the anvils, and then softer, to see if 
the cause lay in the force of the blows. But this did 
not alter the sound in the slightest.^ And then he 
asked them to change anvils, to see if it was the 
bulk or texture of the anvil that made the difference. 

1 Nicomachus. I. ii. 

- aAA' ov TTcipa ry\v rwv pcuovrojv plav. lb. 


But this did not affect the sound.^ And it was 
plain that the shape of the hammers had nothing 
to do with it either, for two hammers of the same 
shape gave different sounds.^ At last he asked them to 
change hammers, and each man now struck a different 
note. So it was plain that the difference of the 
sounds lay in the hammers alone, and since it was not 
in their shape, therefore it must be in their weight. 
And with that Pythagoras took the weights of 
the hammers, and went home. And the weights of 
the hammers were these — one was I2lb, another was 
81b, another was 9lb, and the other was 61b. And 
when he got home, he took a piece of wood and 
fixed it from one corner of his room to the other. 
And then he got four strings, all of the same length, 
and the same thickness, and the same number of 
threads in each, for he was so exact, that he even 
counted the threads in each string,^ and he fastened 
these strings to the piece of wood, and hung weights 
on to each ; and on one he hung a I2lb weight, 
and on another an 81b weight, and on another a plb 
weight, and on the last a 61b weight. And having 
done this, he struck the strings, and the string that 
had the I2lb weight attached to it gave the note, 

Fg:— L- — js^^^ ^YiQ string that had the g\h weight 


gave p ^— {:= And the string with the 81b weight, 

^ ov^i irapa Trjv tov kXavvofikvov aK/ixovog fieraOecTLV, 
^ ovSe irapa ra (y)(j]fiaTa tCjv (x^upwv. 

3 Cf. the similar exactitude of the Chinese, who count all the threads that 
make each string of the Kin. Supra. Chapter. III. 



- — iSi — • 

y-=p-— And the 61b weight, 

z—^iz. And strik- 

ing them by twos and twos, he found that they har- 
monised with one another,^ for the I2lb string with 
the gVa string gave the interval of the 4th, and so 
did the 81b string with the 61b string. And again, 
the I2lb string with the 81b string gave the interval 
of the 5th, and so did the plb string with the 61b 
string. And the I2lb string with the 61b string gave 
the Octave ; and the plb string with the 81b string 
did not indeed give • a harmony, but gave the interval 

of a perfect tone, F g y;~~ | • — ^ — And having made 

these discoveries, Pythagoras saw that he was able 
perfectly to express these notes by numbers instead 

of notes, writing 12 instead of 

, 9 instead of 

-,s — 

'f^i~i, 8 instead of Flt^— j — - , and 6 instead of 

-^— ^ — . And the 4 notes, expressed by numbers, 

stood thus: 12. 9. 8. 6. And first then he expressed 
the notes themselves in this way ; and next he 
expressed the intervals from note to note in a similar 

manner, writing 



and - f^I - 


as 12 : 9 and 8 : 6, and this was the interval of a 

^ Kpovwv ava ^vo cifia \og^aQ ivaXka^. The whole 
story is almost a literal translation of Nicomachus. 


4th. And FgE[E=^= EgE^=^=, which is the 
interval of a 5th, as 12 : 8 and 9 : 6. And 

F^'— '— — 1^— :, the interval of the 8ve, as 12 : 6. And 

comparing these with the ordinary mathematical ratios, 
as they are generally phrased, he saw that 12 : 9 
and 8 : 6, are in the ratio of 4 : 3, that is, in the 
Epitrite ratio (iv Xojm tTrtrptrw) ; and 12:8 and 
9 : 6 are in the ratio of 3 : 2, that is, the Hemiolian 
Ratio (ev \6yuj rjiLuoXiaj) ; and 12:6, the Octave, in 
the ratio of 2 : i, which is the Double Ratio {\6yog 
dnrXdmog).^ So that substituting these smaller figures 
for the larger ones, he expressed the 4th by 4:3, 
the 5 th by 3 : 2, and the 8ve by 2 : i, but the 
Interval of a Tone he still expressed by 9 : 8, since 
there are no smaller figures which will serve as an 
equivalent. And having done this, he went on to 
test the truth of his discovery in other ways, and first 
he transferred the results he had arrived at to his Lyre, 
increasing or diminishing the tension of the strings, till 
they coincided with the strings that had the weights 
attached ; so that he knew that the string which gave 
the 8ve must have twice as much tension as that which 
gave the lowest note, and the string which gave the 
4th, one and a third as much, and the string which 
gave the 5 th, one and a half as much.^ And next 
he tried it on Pan Pipes,^ and here it was no longer 
a question of tension, but of lengths ; but still the same 
law held good ; for the pipe which gave the 8ve was 


1 Nicomachiis, p. 12, 2 Id. 13. 

1, Nicom. loc. cit. 


twice as short as the one it gave the 8ve to, (so that 
he saw that shortness in wind instruments answers to 
increase of tension in strings), and the pipe which gave 
tlie 4th, three-fourths as short, and the pipe which gave 
the 5th, two-thirds as short. And he also tried it on 
Flutes,'^ and found the same principle hold good, that 
is, not only in the lengths but in the stops, for each 
stop as it is uncovered shortens the column of air, 
and as it is covered, lengthens it, and all the stops 
covered give the lowest note, uncovered to -| the 
length the 5th, to | the length, the 4th, and half 
the length, the Sve.^ And he also tried it on drums,3 
increasing or diminishing the tension of the parchment 
by means of weights, and with the same results as 
before. And he tried it on various sonorous bodies, 
and always with the same result. But it was par- 
ticularly his experiments with Pan Pipes which were 
of practical service to him, for learning in this way 
that length has a similar effect to tension, he was led 
to apply this principle to strings, and he conceived 
an instrument of one string, so constructed that its 
length might be shortened or lengthened at pleasure, 
without disturbing the original tension. And this is 
the way he constructed it : he stretched a string over 
an oblong box from one end to the other, and 
fastened it tight at each end by means of pegs ; and 
inside the box he had a moveable or sliding bridge, 
which could be pushed under any part of the string, 
so as to divide it into whatever two parts were 

1 Nicom. p. IS. 

2 This fact about the Flutes is developed by Porphyry in his Commentary 
on Ptolemy's Harmonics. III. 

3 I imagine Xeic/oec is ' tambourines ' here, or ' drums,' since Koi t(C 
Wapcnr\i}(Jia opjava it is certainly a musical instrument. 


wanted. And when it was placed so as to divide the 
string into two unequal parts, of which one was twice 
as long as the other, then the one which was twice 
as long gave one note, and the other gave the 8ve 
to that note (2 : i) ; and when the two unequal parts 
were such that one was half longer than the other, then 
the one that was half longer gave one note, and the 
other gave the 5th to that note (3 : 2) ; and when the 
parts were such that one was one third longer than the 
other, then the one that was one third longer gave one 
note, and the other gave the 4th to that note (4 : 3), 
But when the bridge was so placed that both parts 
were exactly equal, they both gave the same sound, 
that is, the Unison (i : i). In this way did Pythagoras 
develop the whole of the Musical Consonances from 
a single string, and the instrument he had con- 
structed for this purpose was called the One-Stringed 
Instrument, or Monochord, or, as it was afterwards 
called, The Canon of Pythagoras, because in it he had 
discovered an infallible standard, or Canon, by which 
the ear might rectify its impressions, and which was 
to the ear what a balance is to the touch, or a 
measuring-line to the eye ; and now there was no 
longer any excuse for instruments incorrectly tuned, 
or even for voices incorrectly intoning, for there was 
always present in a single string the complete purity 
and exactitude of musical sound, by which all errors 
might be corrected, and the true relations at any 
time restored. 

And since it is seen that the ratio of the Unison 
is I : I, of the 8ve i : 2, of the 5th 2 : 3, 
and of the 4th 3 : 4, we may now admire the 
wonderful identity of the Musical Consonances with 
the Rhythmic Feet, whose ratios we have previously 
considered. And we found that the Rhythmic feet fell 




into 4 groups, the Dactylic, the Iambic, the Paeonic, 
and the Epitrite Feet, and they each had their ratios, 
which we gave. And now let us set down those ratios 
side by side with the ratios of the Musical Consonances, 
and we shall find that the Ratio of the Dactylic feet 
corresponds with the Ratio of the Unison, the Ratio of 
the Iambic feet with that of the 8ve, the Paeonic 
feet with the 5 th, and the Epitrite feet with the 4th, 
as thus^ — _ 

I : I (Xoyog iaog) Unison F^^-—^^ 

.. Dactyl _ I \j Kj 

I : 2 (Xoyog ^nrXcKTiog) SveF ^;— 1^ — ^ — - Iambus w | _ 

2 : 3 {Xoyog i)fxi6Xiog) 5th| 


Paeon _ I w 

3 : 4 (Xoyog iTrirpiTog) 4th Fj 



-^ — Epitrite 

What a musical nation were the Greeks, then, whose 
very dancing had proceeded in the relations of the 
Musical Consonances, ages before they knew what 
consonances were ! and how their poetry had plucked 
out the very soul of Music, and its language, by 
intuition, had observed the harmony which pervades the 
intervals of the musical scale. 

And now Pythagoras using these numbers, as we 
have here given them, to express the ratios of the 

1 This agreement is noticed by Porphyry in his Commentary on Ptolemy, 
p. 219. Ed. Wallis. 

2 The Pjcon is regularly divided, \j I 3:2, but I have put this 

division here to show off the ratio better. 


greater intervals, but still retaining the figures, 8 : 9, 
which he called the \6yoQ Ittoj^ooq (Epogdoan or 
Superoctave Ratio) to express the intervals of a tone, 
because there were no smaller figures which would 
serve as their equivalent, he next went on to make 
these notes, E, A, B, E, the nucleus of a full scale, 
which he would express by figures likewise, for he filled 
in the empty places of these notes, viz. from E to 
A, B to E, with notes of the Dorian Mode, thus : — 

J ^ « ^ ■ J -<=^'- :^ 

m^-^^-=^=^ =^ 

and this filled-in scale, which was afterwards the 
recognised form of the Dorian Mode, and became in 
its turn the nucleus of the complete Greek Musical 
System, he went on to express by figures likewise ; 
for with 8 : 9 as the equivalent of the Tone, he 
could write all the tones as 8 : 9, or setting it 
fractionally, | ; thus. 


1—— — F 1 —I 1 —I -p— 

t= =t=t== =t=: 

since they were all the same distance apart from one 
another. But now there yet remained the interval of 
the Semitone to be expressed in like manner, i.e. from 

-^. zr^z iz and ^^^;_g_zzp=, in order to make 

the Arithmetical expression of the Scale complete. 

^ rag iJ.eTat,vTriTag Kara to ^laTOviKOv jivog (jvvava7rXr]p(x)aag 
(pdajyoig avoXoyoig ovro) rov OKTCtyopdov &• Nicom. p. 13. 


And this he obtained as follows : for seeing that each 
of these semitones forms a constituent part of a 
complete Tetrachord, which is comprehended within 
the interval of a Fourth, 3 : 4, it was but emptying 
the Tetrachord of its other constituent ratios, and 
then the ratio of the Semitone would be the residuum; 

so that e.g. in the Tetrachord pmzi^~^_g__--. 

since the ratio of A to G is 8:9, but of A to F it 
is just double that, vis. 8 X 8 : 9 X 9 z^. 64 : 81, then 
the combination of this latter ratio, which is the 
ratio of 4 of the Tetrachord, with the ratio of the 
complete 4th, 3 : 4, will give the residuum, 
9x9x3:8x8x4 i.e. 243 : 256, which is there- 
fore the ratio of the remaining -J, inz. the Semitone, 
F to E.I So that the whole scale could now be 
accurately expressed as follows : — 

9 9 256 9 9 9 256 
8 8 243 8 8 8 243 
being the exact arithmetical equivalent of 

-^ -(^- -fS- ^ 


And it will be noticed that we have here written 
the scale downwards, and counted the Intervals and 
their ratios downwards, and this was the Greek Method,^ 
which we shall hold ourselves at liberty to pursue 
whenever it seems necessary. More particularly is it 
apposite whenever we are literally rendering the 
original Greek calculations, as we find them in the 

^ Gaudentius. Harmonica Intioduct. p, 15. Cf. Ptolemy's Harmonics. 
I. 10. 

' Plutarch. Pe Musica, lO. 



Let us now add to these numbers the ratios of the 
other intervals, vis. the 8ve, the 5th, and 4th, and 
then we shall have expressed all the possible ratios 
to each other of the notes that compose it :— - 

I : 2- 

Having therefore completed the construction of this 
scale, he designed it to serve as the basis of a more 
extended scale, which should unite and give adequate 
representation to the various Scales, or .Modes of Notes, 
we must call them, which had arisen independently of 
one another in various parts of Greece. For various 
Scales and Modes of Song had sprung up, just as various 
Feet and various Dances had ; and as there were the 
Lydian Feet, the Lydian Rhythm, the Ionian Feet, the 
Locrian Feet, the Dorian Feet, and so on, so were there 
in melody the Lydian Mode, or Scale, the Dorian Mode, 
the Locrian Mode, the Ionian Mode, and so on, and 
these had sprung up like flowers in different parts of 
Greece, and there was no common system to unite 
them together ; and people indeed in one part of 
Greece were quite unacquainted with the Mode of 
notes that was used in another part of Greece, and 
often did not know that there was any other form of 
singing besides what they practised in existence. And 
what I mean by a Mode of notes is this : for we 
have only two Modes in our modern music, but it is 
plain there may be many. For what differentiates 


one Mode of notes from another is not the pitch at 
which they are taken, but the position of the Semi- 
tones in each Mode. For we have only two Modes, 
as I say ; we have that Mode which we call the 
Greater, or Major Mode, in which the Semitones 
occur b.etween the 3rd and 4th note, and between the 
7th and 8th; and we have also that Mode called the 
Lesser, or Minor Mode, in which the Semitones occur 
between the 2nd and 3rd notes, and between the 5th 
and 6th. And these are the only Modes we use. 
But what shall we say of those times when musical 
feeling" was so exuberant and musical expression so 
varied, that Modes counted by dozens instead of being 
tied down to a mere two, as we have them ? For 
it is plain that the arrangement of the Semitones 
admits of nearly twenty or thirty varieties, and of these 
some 15 or more were in free use in various parts 
of Greece ; and if we acknowledge, as we do, such a 
vast difference of character between the Major and 
the Minor Modes, and all because of the difference of 
their placing of the Semitones, what countless and 
unknown delicacies of musical expression must there 
have existed in those days, when there were many 
Majors and many Minors ; or how can we even 
imagine that immense vocabulary, of which only two 
phrases have survived ? And the Modes that we know 
of — and, doubtless, there were many more that we do 
not know — which were in use in Greece, were 15, as 
I say, in number. And they had grown up indepen- 
dently of one another, with all the idiosyncrasies of 
dialect and patois — and there was the Dorian, the 
Locrian, the Lydian, the yEolian, the Ionian, the 
Boeotian, and many more, but out of these, as we 
may expect, a certain few had singled themsehes out 
by the time of Pythagoras, whether because the peoplg 



Adio used them were more prominent in the history of 
their country, or because they were really the most 
musical modes, and the best music was written in 
them, we cannot certainly say. But the ones that had 
become the prominent ones by the time of Pythagoras 
I were 7 in number — ihc Dorian, the Lydian, the ^.olian 
or Locrian, the Hypolydian, or low Lydian, the Phry- 
gian, the Hypophrygian, or low Phrygian, and the 
Mixolydian, or Mixed Lydian, which was the Mode of 
Sappho.* And all these differed from each other in 
the arrangement of their semitones, and also in their 
pitches, for this is an important thing to notice ; for 
although pitch is in no way a distinguishing difference 
of Mode from Mode, but it is the arrangement of the 
Semitones that makes the difference, yet in the case 
of these Modes, and very likely in the case of most 
of the other Greek Modes, the pitch of each differed a 
from that of the other. And of these Modes that 1 
we have mentioned, the yfiolian, or Locrian, was the 
lowest, the Low Phrygian (Hypophrygian) was the 
next, the Hypolydian the next, the Dorian the 
next, next the Phrygian, above that the Lydian, and 
highest of all the Mixolydian, which was the Mode 
of Sappho. And the positions of the Semitones in 
each was different, as we have said. And it will be 
hard for us to express these Modes in their various 
pitches without communicating to them a modernness 
of colouring, and investing them with an apparent 
intricacy of notation, which was certainly very far 
from belonging to them : which had in reality a 
most consummate simplicity of notation, being written 
not in notes as we must write them, but in letters 
of the alphabet and signs like them, each Mode 

I Infra, p. 


having its own set of letters, and each letter there- 
fore suggesting at once not only the Mode, but the 
exact pitch of the note which it represented. So 
that they were kept perfectly distinct, and each in 
its way was a Scale of Naturals. And there is 
another thing which will be hard to do, and that is 
to keep up in our notation the character of the 
Mode, or at least to suggest it ; for each of these 
Modes was credited with a peculiar character .of its 
own, which indeed it most eminently has, as they 
who will test them may easily find ; the Dorian Mode 
being held to possess a martial and manly character, 
the Phrygian (which was the great Mode of the 
Dithyrambs)^ a violent and ecstatic character, the 
Lydian a softness and tenderness, and the Mixo- 
lydian, which was the Mode of Sappho, was the 
Mode of Passion and Sentiment. And how are we 
to preserve these in our notation ? And it seems 
that if we keep sharps and naturals for the Martial and 
Violent Modes, and Flats for the Tender and Senti- 
mental Modes we may preserve in the look of our 
Music, however faintly, the characters of the original.^ 
So then we may write the Modes as follows : 

The ySolian or Locrian Mode ^ (also called the 
Hypo dorian.) 



■^ 6 diBvpaiu(5or ofjLoXoyovfxivojQ ^ivai So/ca •Ppvytov Aristot. 
Pol. VIII. 7. And cf. in the same place the story how Philoxenus tried to 
write Dithyrambs in the Dorian Mode, but could not succeed, and had to 
betake himself to the Phrygian again. 

2 For the character of the Modes in detail, see infra, p. — 

3 For this identification of the -<Eolian with the H\podorian, see in 
Athenaeus p. 624. 

390 lliSTOkV OF MUSIC. 

The HypopJirygian Mode. 

- ■ ^ ,, Uf ^a^ -_ ^ c2 — r^i 


TJie Hypolydian Mode. 





The Dorian Mode. 



The Phrygian Mode. 

77^1? Lydian Mode. 



The Mixolydian Mode. 

And this last mode, it will be observed, we have 
transposed a note lower than we wrote it when we 
met with it in use by Sappho, and this is in order 
to approximate it to the exact pitch we conceive it 
to have had. For now that we are considerincf the 
various Modes in their relation to each other, we 
must be careful to attend to the pitch. And also 

tMe greeks. 391 

we have put the yEolian a note higher for a similar 

I This is an arrangement which I am led to follow, in order to bring out 
what often is but poorly brought out, the exact pitches of the various modes 
in relation to each other, which is thus precisely demonstrated in a Problem 
of Ptolemy's in the 2nd Book of his Harmonics : — " Take any 8 notes and let 
them be so arranged that the ist is a Diatessaron higher than the 2nd, the 2nd 
a Diatessaron higher than the 3rd, the 3rd a Diatessaron higher than the 4th, 
and so on with the rest, substituting a Diapente lower for a Diatessaron 
higher wherever it seems convenient to do so, and in each case let the 
Diatessarons and Diapentes be perfect ; thus — 

A B C D E , F G 

Then since D is a Diatessaron higher than E and a Diapente higher than 
C, that will be a tone by how much E is above C. (Cf. Infra. Chapter VII. 
p — ). In the same way because F is a Diatessaron higher than G and a 
Diapente higher than E, that also will be a Tone by how much G is higher 
than E. Similarly, because C is a Di!;one lower than G and a Diatessaron 
lower than B, B to G will contain the Residuum of the Diatessaron, which is 
the Semitone B G. Lastly, since B to C is a Diatessaron, and likewise D to 
E, F to G, and A to B .'. the remainder E C is equal to the remainder D B, 
and E G to F D, and B G to A F. And B D and F D will both be tones, 
but A F will be a Semitone. Further if we take another note which is a 
Diapason distant from C or from A, it is plain it must also be distant one 
tone from its neighbouring note, because A to C making a Double 
Diatessaron, there is a tone wanting to complete the 8ve. And A is in 
the Mixolydian Mode, F in the Eydian, D in the Phrygian, B in the Dorian, 
G in the Hypolydian, E in the Hypophrygian, and C in the ^olian." Now 

transferring the Pitch of B here from p f^i —^ to F@'' ?^ 

which is the traditional way of writing the Dorian Mode, we have 
merely to arrange the other modes in tone and tone and semitone from 

1^2 upwards and downwards as in Ptolemy's Problem ; and this 

is how it is done in the text. Nevertheless the difficulty remains that 
Aristides (p. 24.) makes the Hypodorian or ^olian a 5th below the Dorian 
instead of a 4th, and 8ve below the Mixolydian in like manner (loc. 
cit.) making it come on the Proslambanomenos, which perhaps it really did, 
and if we imagine 2 Dorians to be alluded to indiscriminately by some 
writers, this would be possible in Ptolemy's way also. cf. infra p. 


And in these Modes we have marked the places 
where the Semitones occur with a stroke, and it will 
be seen that in the ^olian the Semitones occur 
between the 2nd and 3rd Notes and the 5th and 
6th, and in the Hypophrygian between the 3rd and 
4th, 6th and 7th, in the Hypolydian between the 
4th and 5th, 7th and 8th, in the Dorian between 
the 1st and 2nd, 5th and 6th, in the Phrygian 
between the 2nd and 3rd, 6th and 7th, in the 
Lydian between the 3rd and 4th, 7th and 8th, and 
in the Mixolydian between the ist and 2nd, 4th and 
5th. And the Modes are arranged agreeably to 
their pitches, that is to say, the three lower Modes 
each a tone above the other, and the Dorian a 
semitone above the Hypolydian, the Phrygian a tone 
above the Dorian, the Lydian a tone above the 
Phrygian, and the Mixolydian a semitone above the 

And this was the problem that lay before 
Pythagoras, how to reduce these modes all to one 
scale, or as we should phrase it, how to express 
them in one simple scale without the occurrence of 
accidentals. And how he did it was this : — He took 
the Dorian Mode, as he had constituted it in his 
mathematical construction, that is to say, in two 
independent tetrachords, that is, the ist from E to 
A, the second from B to E, and to each end of it 
he added two other tetrachords, namely, a tetrachord 
to the lower E — B to E — and a tetrachord to the 
upper E — E to A/ 

J L_J___„_g_^_:^L:g:!f; 

i_^_p_^_p_p:_fz:_t — tz . — 

I Nicomachus. p. 20. 21. 


Only this time he made the Tetrachords overlap, not 
standing distinct from each other, as the original 
ones did, for the 2 Tetrachords 

_gzii tz zztzzz [z:_ 


are each complete in itself, but the new ones are 
not complete in themselves, but the low one borrows 

its highest note F{f»}-: — ?^^^^^ from the Tetrachord to 

which it is added, and similarly the high one its 
lowest note F^^— -'— ^^— from the Tetrachord to 

which it is added, in like manner. Hence arose the 
terms, Conjunct and Disjunct Tetrachords, the term 
Conjunct, being applied to Tetrachords which over- 
lapped each other, as these new ones do, and the 
term. Disjunct, to Tetrachords which were disjoined 
and separate from each other, being each complete 
in itself, as the old ones were. And the Greeks 
used the term Diezeugmenon, or Diezeugmenon Te- 
trachords, for Disjunct Tetrachords, and Synemmenon 
for Conjunct Tetrachords. 

And now Pythagoras, having thus a Scale of Two 
Octaves, all but a note, before him, he took the 
Mixolydian Mode, and applied it to the lowest note, 
B, and since the Semitones of the Mixolydian Mode 
were between the ist and 2nd notes and the 4th 
and 5th notes, it will be seen that the Mixolydian 
Mode exactly coincides with the notes of this Great 
Scale from B to B. And Pythagoras called the 8ve 
in this great scale from B to B, the Mixolydian 
8ve. And next he took the Lydian Mode, in like 
manner, and applied it to C, which is the second 


lowest note of his great scale. And since the 
semitones of the Lydian Mode occur between the 
3rd and 4th notes, and also between the 7th and 
8th, it will be seen that the Lydian Mode exactly 
coincides with the 8ve from C to C, as the 
Mixolydian had with the 8ve from B to B. And 
Pythagoras called the 8ve from C to C, the 
Lydian 8ve. And .he applied the Phrygian Mode 
in like manner to D, and its semitones, between 
the 2nd and 3rd notes^ and the 6th and 7th, 
exactly coinciding Avith the semitones on the 8ve 
from D, that is, firs'^. with E F, secondly with 
B C, he called tljfe 8ve from D to D, the 
Phrygian 8ve. And the Dorian Mode stood as 
it was. And the/ Hypolydian he applied to F, 
and its semitones' coincided with B ^ E F, which 
are the semitones on the 8ve from F, and 
Pythagoras called the 8ve from F to F, the 
Hypolydian 8ve. And applying the Hypophrygian 
to G, and the yEolian to A, and finding their 
semitones coincide in like manner, he named the 8ve 
from G to G, the Hypophrygian 8ve, and the 8ve 
from A to A, the yEolian, or Hypodorian 8ve. ^ 
And this was the highest note in the scale he had 
constructed, and in this way had he contrived to 
represent all the Greek Modes easily and exactly on 
the scale he had constructed. 

And in order that his scale might have perfection, 
and not remain unfinished, which it must have done, 
so long as it was not rounded off by octaves, he 
added a note to the bottom of it, viz., A,^ which was 
the 8ve of a, and the double 8ve of ^, and this 
note be called the Proslambanomenos , or " Added 

1 Gaudentius. p. 20. - Nicomachus. p. 22. 

th£ greeks. 


Note'^; and now the complete scale by virtue of this 
addition ran as follows : 











This scale, then, as we find it here, represents the 
Disjunct System of the Greeks (^Systema Dieseug- 
luenoii), and it was cjilled Disjunct, because the 

Octave which forms its nucleus, viz., from 



— , is composed of Two Disjunct Tetra- 

chords r 


22~^= and F 




But there was another system, which is also ascribed 
to Pythagoras, though with what justice we do not 
know, and this is what was called the Conjunct 
System, and it is much simpler in its construction 
than the Disjunct System, and turns on this, that all 

the Tetrachords, from p^:=^^= upwards, should be 
conjunct, and not changed to Disjunct at p g^:= p=^^^= 

but that these two should also be conjunct, and how 
this was effected was by the insertion of a Flat 

before FgEt:~ ^^us :— 






And this B fe we noticed as appearing in Greek 
music under the auspices of the Lesbian School of 


Singers ; and by virtue of its insertion all the Tetra- 
chords were made exactly to resemble each other, each 
being formed of a Semitone followed by 2 Tones ; 
as the Tetrachord, B to E, of the Semitone, B C, 
and the 2 Tones, CD, DE, the Tetrachord, E to A, 
of the Semitone, EF, and the 2 Tones, EG, GA, 
and the Tetrachord, A to D (higher than which the 
Conjunct System did not extend), of the Semitone, 
ABt and the 2 Tones, B\iC, CD. And these Tetra- 
chords all overlapped and dovetailed into one another, 
and in this dovetailing we may notice another trace of 
that effort after Unity or Cohesion, which seems a 
secret aim of all Music, and of the Greek Music more 
than any other form of Music. 

This Conjunct System, then, likewise received an 
A at the bottom of it, but it never was made to 

extend higher than E ^- — ^" zr: , as we have said. And 

the Two systems together formed the complete Greek 
Musical system, in which everything was played or 
sung (fv olc TTCivra koi aS^rai kcu avXelrai koI KLOapi^eTai 
Kcd TO avjiirav direiv yUeXwSarat),^ and both are ascribed 
to Pythagoras though with what justice we cannot 
say. And it is usual to write them both together, 
which, although somewhat confusing, is yet the tradi- ^ 
tional practice, and must therefore be pursued : — fjj 

Systema Synemmenon. Systema Diezeugmenon. 


^-i-_: — ^-^^■^,^_ 

And now we must give che names of the Notes, 
for though the Greeks commonly wrote their notes 

1 Gaudentius. p. l8. whose lucid expositions far excel those of the other 


by letters, as we do, yet, in speaking of them, they 
used a much finer style of expression, for each separate 
note had its own peculiar surname, under which it was 
habitually designated ; and this practice of naming 
the notes seems far in advance of ours ; for to dub 
notes by letters, and speak of them by letters, is to 
deprive them of much of their individuality, no less 
than if we were to call men by numbers instead of 
names. For a name carries much with it that a 
letter or a number never can. And I think we 
should feel our notes much more vividly than we do, 
if each had its name, as colours or flowers have. 
For indeed a rose would lose much of its poetry, 
if we called it C, or a violet, to call it F, and 
doubtless a certain barrenness has crept into musical 
conception, since the notes were made to drop their 
names, and take mere letters instead. But the Greeks 
had separate names for every note in their music, 
not merely for one octave, as we have, for the letters 
we use for one octave are applied without any varia- 
tion to any other 8ve, and here we fail again ; but 
each note in their musical system had its individual 
name, and was always spoken of as such. Of these 
names, eight seem to have been given before the 
others, for they serve in a manner as a type or 
pattern for the rest, and they are the names of the 

middle 8ve, 

.^. .f2, -^^ 

:c2zi==^ — 

which also we know to have been constituted first. 
Of these p^:— ^^^ was called Hypate, or " The 

Highest Note," and at this name we must not 
wonder," for it was agreeable to the Greek style of 


musical expression ; for they called that " Below " 
(vTTo), which we call " Above," and that " Above," 
(virlp) w^hich we call " Below " ; and we have met with a 
very remarkable instance of this strange style of ex- 
pression before in our history, for the Accompaniment 
of Archilochus, which was " above " the song, they 
called " the Accompaniment virb ri'iv oj^rjv " (" below the 
song "), and other things in like manner ; whence 
some forgetful of the Greek musical idiom have 
imagined that the Accompaniment of Archilochus was 

really " below " the song. And this note 

then, was called Hypate^ 'YwaTr], w^hich is a con- 
traction of 'Yweprarr], and = "The Highest." And in 

a similar manner rii^zzzzzrr. was called A^i-fc, or " The 

Lowest Note." And the other notes were called as 
follows : F^— ^— ParJiypate, or " The Second Highest 


Note;" p ^'— p — , LicJianos, or "First Finger Note," 

and this is a name which has evidently come from 
Lyre-playing, for it was the practice of Lyre-players to 
strike the 3rd lowest string of the Lyre with the ist 
finger of the left hand,i and this is how the name, 
Licharios, or " First Finger Note," came to be applied to 

the 3rd lowest note in this scale. And F^ — j^ — ; 


^ ati eTriTiOerai avroj 6 rrjg apicTTepag •)(^£ipog ^uktuXoc 6 
iraoa rov avTi\eipa. Nicomach. Manual, p. 22. 



_-_ rs 

called Mese, or "The Middle Note." And Eg=tz^ , 

Parainese, or " The Next to the Middle." And 

^■_tz_ ^ j^if^^ Qj. u Thg Ti^ird Note.." And rm:;=t==: 

Paranete, or " The Second Lowest Note." And F^: — ' — ■ — 

Nete, or "The Lowest/^ as we have said. And the 
other notes were called after the pattern of these, of which 

F ^— ^— was called Hypate Hypaton (that is the 
Highest Note of the Highest Tetrachord). 

'-'^zzzX:! Parhypate Hypaton (Second highest 

=; note of the Highest Tetrachord). 





... LicJianos Hypaton. 

Trite Hyperbolceon (that is, Trite 
or Third Note of the Extreme Tetrachord). 

... Paranete Hyperbolceon. 

. . . Nete HyperbolcEon, 

And in the Conjunct, or Synemmenon System, 
2:-=t=— was called Trite Synemmenon, F^— tzzz 


Paranete Synemmenon, and p ^- — b= — , Note Synemmenon, 

just as in the Diezengmenon System the word. 



Dicaeugniaiou, was added to Trite, Paranete, and Nete, 
to distinguish them from these notes of the 
Synemmenon ; and the word Meson to Hypatc^ 
Parhypate, and Lichanos, to show that they belonged 
to the Middle Tetrachord. But the bottom note of 
all was called Proslainbanomenos, as we have said. 

This then being the complete Greek Musical System, 
we may admire by what slow steps it reached its 
present form. And it is founded, as we said, on the 
Dorian Mode, yet when we first get news of even the 
Dorian Mode, how very different is it to that form it 
had received before it became the basis of the Greek 
System ! For we have already met the Dorian Mode 
in the times of Terpander, and then it appeared as 



And later on we have tidings of it in this form, 


(=2 .-^1 — 



And in each case, as will be seen, it is an Isolating 
Scale, that is, having breaks in it ; and in the first 
scale there is only one break, but in the second there 
are two, between F and A, and also between C and 
E, and the second looks the older of the two, but 
yet we are told that the first is the older. But 

1 See Nicomachus on Terpander's Lyre. p. 20. 

2 Aristides p. 22. for this notation. Cf. his remarks on p. 20. that you may 
always substitute a semitone for 2 dieses, which is done in the succeeding 
ones also. It is possible that some of the confusion e.g. p. 526. would be 
banished if we allowed 2 Dorians, one on E, and one on D, to be alluded 
to by the theorists indiscriminately. But this is only a suggestion. 


when we turn to the other modes which were combined 
to form the Greek System, we shall be aware of a 
still greater incompleteness, and a much nearer 
approach to that ancient form of scale, which we have 
conceived as the first form in which such a thing as 
a musical scale appeared. For the forms in which 
we have hitherto considered them were not their 
earliest forms, but there are other forms on record 
more ancient than these, some of which, unlike the 
Dorian mode, which is not a pure Isolating Scale, 
are of a pattern essentially primitive, and presenting 
an exact resemblance to the most ancient forms of 
Scale, as the Scale of the Chinese and other nations, 
who have the most ancient form of Scale. And the 
Phrygian indeed not so much, for this was the ancient 
form of the Phrygian Mode, and it is at least as 

complete as the Dorian : — 


Egg^i=^~g — g- 


But the Lydian Mode is almost precisely the same 

as the Scale of the Chinese, being in all respects a 

pure Isolating Scale. And its ancient form was 

this :— 


-g. .(=. :& 



which if we write in Naturals, disregarding the pitch 
for a moment in order to show off the resemblance 
better, thus, 

I Aristides. p. 22, 2 lb. 

D D 



we shall see that, with the exception of the 8ve of 
the upper note being at the bottom of the Scale, it is 
precisely the same as the Chinese Scale, 

■^-_ -^ 




or that other ancient Scale which we have assumed 
as the primitive scale of our race, 


-h — 

But the Mixolydian Mode, in its most ancient form, 
is not an Isolating Scale, but an Agglutinative Scale, 
which was the Second form which we conceived the 
development of the scale passed through, namely, that 
the two Isolating Members, which we called the 
Great Scale and the Little Scale, were joined by the 
insertion of a middle note, yet that still the Scale 
lacked completeness in its upper part. And the 
Primitive Scale of Man under Agglutination we con- 
ceived as follows. 








And the Mixolydian Mode was 


% '-^. — P?" 


or, to write it in Naturals, 




'-si'- — ^~ 

I Aristides loc. cit. 



where but for the occurrence of the 8ve as the 6th 
note, instead of the note, G, we should have an 
exact parallel to the Primitive Scale of Man in its 
Second, or Agglutinative Form. 

And there are other ancient forms of Modes 
recorded in the handbooks, being two which Pythagoras 
did not take into his system ; for the ancient forms 
of the ^olian, the Hypophrygian, and Hypolydian, 
are not recorded, but only these two, which are the 
Ionian and the High Lydian, or Syntonolydian ; and 
the Ionian Mode in its most ancient form is said to 
have been : — 




and the Syntonolydian, 





-5- -^- 

or waiving the question of pitch, and writing them 
in Naturals, 

The Ionian. 





The Syntonolydian. 





And these indeed seem fragments, and there seems no 
analogy to which we may refer them, but yet if we 

1 Aristides p. 22, 

? lb, 



sort the notes of the Ionian Mode, not according to 
their height, but according to their succession of tones, 

in this way, 




s: ■ we 

1 (-- 

shall see that in this respect at least they bear 

considerable resemblance to the pure Isolating and 

Agglutinative Forms, being a confusion of both. But 

the Syntonolydian, on the other hand, it is hard to 

refer to any analogy whatever. 

These Modes, then, dismissing the last two, which 

need not concern us, had grown into perfect scales of 

8 notes each by the time of Pythagoras, having had 

their fissures and cracks filled up by the necessary 

complement of sounds, and in this complete form 

were utilised by him in the formation of his scale. 

And now we may discover the reason why he built 

with tetrachords. For each of these modes possessed, 

besides the diatonic form which we have given, also 

an enharmonic form, agreeably to that Enharmonic 

style of song, which we have mentioned among 

Sappho and the Lesbians, and the essence of which 

consisted in the division of each semitone into two 

enharmonic demitones, as the Mixolydian Mode in its 

Enharmonic form would be 

Semitone Semitone 

.3: t>7s='' ^7^' 
the Dorian Mode 






and the other modes in the same way, each dividing 
its semitones into two enharmonic demitones, as we 


have said, and by consequence omitting the note 
immediately above the second of these demitones, in 
order, as we may loosely say, to have no more than 
8 notes in the octave, but really out of deference to 
that ancient form of scale of which the Enharmonic 
Style was a survival. Now was not this Enharmonic 
Style of sufficiently common occurrence in ordinary 
song to crave the creation of an entirely new musical 
system for its due exposition, but yet sufficiently 
common to demand that due allowance be made it 
in the system which he was engaged in elaborating. 
The object, then, of working by tetrachords was to 
combine both styles in one form of expression. And 
this, by the following considerations, through the use 
of tetrachords he was enabled to do : — For since 
there were but two semitones in every mode, and that 
the semitone was the only place where the Enharmonic 
asserted itself in opposition to the Diatonic, it is plain 
that certain notes in every mode were the same in 
both styles, and certain others were different. For 
where the semitone occurred there was difference, but 
elsewhere there was sameness. And since the action 
of the Enharmonic on either semitone was precisely 
the same, and the semitone changed and its neigh- 
bouring notes remained unchanged on precisely the 
the same principle in both cases, then was it most 
convenient to view each case as but one the repeti- 
tion of the other, and to regard the Mode as laid 
out in two petty scales, each fitted with semitone and 
accompanying group : of which two petty and similar 
scales, one therefore only need be considered. And 
taking this little scale, which was the Tetrachord, as 
the subject matter of treatment, he could isolate the 
action of the Enharmonic, and consider it in a pattern 
that would serve as a type of all its play ; and 


saying that in every Tetrachord certain notes of the 
Diatonic were Hable to change, and certain remained 
unchanged, he at once summed up the entire action 
of the disturbing element in a formula which would 
be applicable throughout the total system. Now could 
he continue to write his Tetrachord as before, in 
Diatonic notes, and with this proviso as to the change, 
the same tetrachord expressed at once and perfectly 
both styles of song ; and the detail of the proviso 
was this, that the notes subject to change were the 
highest note of the Tetrachord's semitone and the 
note immediately above it. These changed under the 
influence of the Enharmonic, while the other two 
notes of the Tetrachord, whether the style were 
Enharmonic or Diatonic, remained the same. That 
the change was the resolution of the Semitone into 
two enharmonic demitones was unnecessary to be 
expressed, being well understood ; and occurring as it 
did with unvarying regularity at every Semitone, might 
well be left to the singer to make, whenever the 
fancy for the Enharmonic in preference to the 
Diatonic, or the alternation of both came to his 
mind, or was enjoined in the music ; and the ordinary 

Tetrachord, F ^ — ^ - — p P .^ — - . written with 

Pythagoras' provision, that the notes subject to change 
were the highest note of the Tetrachord's semitone and 
the note immediately above it — which we may express 

by some such device as this, F^^z^2=i^zE?^^i^ 

---these two being, in his nomenclature, the Moveable, 
and the other two the Fixed — in the Diatonic style the 



Tetrachord was sune as written, C/55 — -^ » — 1* — ^ — • 




but in the Enharmonic (by the resolution of the Semitone 


into two Enharmonic demitones), P^ — ^- — ^ ^ — ^ — ^~~~ 


and so on in every other case. Writing, then, the 
Modes in Tetrachords, and the Scale in Tetrachords, he 
could most easily show this application, and the 
divergence of the two styles ; and this, it seems, is 
one of the main reasons why he chose such a form 
of structure. For the scale written in this way, with 
the Moveable and Fixed notes marked, is : — 

"i i I 

f^—" P^P^i -9-0^ 

And the Modes will be found most easily to lie 
along and coincide with the contour of the Scale as 
here given. Since taking the Mixolydian Mode, and 
marking its Moveable and Fixed Notes, the Moveable, 
the highest note of its Tetrachords' Semitones and 
the note immediately above, the Fixed, the remaining 

and applying it to the Mixolydian octave, it will be 
found to coincide. And the Lydian in the same 

manner : — 




applying it to the Lydian 8ve, 






And the Phrygian, 





-'f2- :^- 




to the Phrygian Octave, 



And the Dorian, 


-^- :g- 


to the Dorian Octave. And the others in Hke 

Now then setting out the scale in Tetrachords, with 
an eye to all these contingencies did he work. 
And it will be seen that all the tetrachords as they 
appear in the Scale, unlike their form in the Modes, 
are symmetrical, for the Fixed notes are the extreme 
notes of each, and the Moveable notes are the interior 
ones. Let us then admire the symmetry which 
pervades all this, and also the art of Pythagoras in 
constituting his scale on so flexible a basis, that it 
would give an easy exposition to so many things. 
Not only will his structure by tetrachords be manifest 
now, but also why he made some conjunct and some 
disjunct ; for it was a studied arrangement to open 
the door to these various possibilities. But why he 
added an 8ve at the bottom of his scale, was to give 



perfection to his system, as we have before remarked ; 
for this was the theory of Pythagoras, that the 8ve 
was the most perfect of the Intervals,^ and was 
ahvays necessary to be present if completeness and 
perfection were to be there. For this reason, therefore 
did he round off his Scale with an octave at the 
bottom, A, parallel to the a at the top, and a Scale 
of Fifteen Notes was formed by this, as it seemed 
to him, necessary addition of the Octave. 

And as the Octave was the most perfect of the 
Intervals in his eyes, so it was the most perfect of 
the Consonances in the same manner.^ For this other 
subject yet remains to be touched on. What were the 
Consonances or Concords in Greek Music, and what 
was the extent of their Harmony. And the 

Consonances or Concords were those intervals whose 
numerical ratios we have before given, that is to 
say, the 8ve, 5th, and 4th, together with the same in 
8ve position, viz. the double Bve, the 12th, and the 
nth — six in all. These were the Consonances or 
Concords.3 But the extent of the Greek Harmony 

^ Ptolemy's Harmonics. I. 6. - Ptolemy. I. 5. 

3 Manuel Bryennius. I. 5. Psellus. Synopsis Musica. Bacchius 
Senior. Eisagoge. 3. Into the interpretation of the late term, Paraphony, 
I have not gone, since it makes no difference to the question of what are 
the harmonious intervals. Bryenne calls the 5th and 12th the Para- 
phonies, Psellus adds the 4th and nth. The 8ve and Double 8ve 
were similarly called Antiphonies, But, says Theon, Antiphonies and 

Paraphonies are all alike included under the general term avfl<pa)Via. 
<Tvibi(p(jt)va Til re Kar avTi^oovov olov to cia Tracrwv koX to 
Sif Sta TTacrwv koX to 7rapa(f)ojvov olov to dia ttevte to ota 
TsrraapoJV. (Theo Smyrnasus. Ed. BuUialdus, I. p. 77), George Pachy- 
meres also to the same tune, £crrt Tiva (TV/Kpajva, Tlvcl Se Oia^wva, 
thus comprehending all consonant intervals under the general term, 


went beyond the admission of Concords, for it admitted 
these discords, the 2nd, and the greater and lesser 
3rd,^ perhaps also in 8ve position, though on 
this point we are not certainly assured, viz, the 
9th and loth.^ There are some writers, indeed, 
who say that the inversion of the first of these discords 
was also used in Greek Music, viz, the 7th, which is 
the inversion of the 2nd.3 And they who say this 
can have no alternative but to admit the inversion 
of the 3rd also, that is, the 6th. But since we are 
not positively told that the 6th and 7th were in use 
in Greek Music, we had best not press them, but 
content ourselves with assuming only those harmonies 
that are given in the handbooks and the histories, 
viz. the 2nd, and 3rd, perhaps the 9th, and loth, for 
the discords, and the 8ve, 5 th, 4th, double 8ve, 12th, 
and nth, for the concords. But even these include 
nearly all the discords and concords that are in use in 
Modern Harmony, and if we were to add the 6th and 
7th they would include all. But in what respect did 
the Greek Harmony differ from ours in the use of 
these Concords and Discords ? And it differed in the 
following respect : For though both used the same 
concords and the same discords, we use more than 
one concord at once, as in the Common Chord we use 
3 concords at once, viz. the 3rd, the 5th, and the 8ve. 
And in the same way we frequently use more than one 
discord at once, as in the chord of the 9th, where we 
use the discords of the 9th and the 7th together. Or 

1 Cf. Supra, p. — . 

2 That is, if such instruments as the Pectis and Barbitos ever used the 
Archilochean accompaniment instead of simple Magadising, it must have 
been so. 

3 Westphal's Geschichte. 


where we only use one discord, as in the chord of 
the 7th, &c., we combine it with concords, as the 
discord of the 7th with the concords of the 5th and 
3rd ; and so on. But they only used one concord at 
a time, or one discord, and there could be no combining 
concords with discords, because none of their chords had 
more than two notes in them. / That is to say, their 
chords were the skeletons of our chords, or they were 
our chords in outline only, and the progress of Har- 
mony since that time has been to fill these outlines 

in ; as, their chord of the 5th y& — \n — has since 


:^in by the 

been filled up by the insertion of the 3rd 
and their chord of the 4th 

superposition of the 6th p ^ — hy and their chord of 


the 8ve p ^ — ^~~ ^^ ^^^ insertion of both 3rd and 


5 th E^'~^= ^"^ so o"- 
t J 

Now this was one of the leading differences of the 
Greek Harmony from ours. But the other difference 
which we must next speak of goes deeper than this, 
and would much more affect the general complexion 
of the Music. For while the 5th is the great note 
which governs the progression of our Music, as thus, 
after starting a piece we proceed as soon as we can 
with our Bass to the 5th of the key we started on, 
and with our Melody to those notes which will 
harmonise with the 5 th of the key, whence the 5 th 


has got the name of Dominant, because it is so 
powerful, and governs all our Music, with the Greeks, 
on the other hand, the 4th was the great note, and 
while we proceed as soon as we can to the 5 th, 
they proceeded in the same way to the 4th ; that is 
to say, our great note is the Dominant, but theirs 
was the Subdominant. " For the Song is no sooner 
started," says Aristotle, " than it proceeds at once to 
the 4th, returning again and again to it, and the 
best composers are those who use the 4th the 
oftenest"! And he goes on to say that as the 
perpetual use of the word " and " is the mark of the 
true Greek style of writing, so is the use of the 4th 
the mark of the true Greek Music. To the same 
effect speaks Ptolemy, and other of the ancient 
theorists. And now we must add the following 
proviso, for with us and our Dominant, it is the 
Bass that proceeds to the Dominant, and the Melody 
to those notes which will harmonise with the Dominant, 
but with the Greeks, on the contrary, with v/hom, we 
must never forget, the Melody was in the Bass, or 
lower part, the Melody would proceed to the Sub- 
dominant, but the Harmony to the notes above, which 
would harmonise with the Subdominant, so that there 
would be the same progression of the parts in both 
cases, the lower part to the principal or governing 
note of its system, the upper part to the notes that 
would harmonise with it, only the ear would listen 
differently, they listening to the lower part and dis- 
regarding the upper, we listening to the upper and 
disregarding the lower. And since what was once but 
an arbitrary adornment or delight of Song, I mean 
this progression of the lower part to the governing 

J Problem. XIX. 20. 


note of the system, for " it is harmonious to the ear," 
says Aristotle, " that the song should so proceed," and 
" the voice moves by preference to the governing note," 
says Ptolemy, " because it is a medium height, which 
gives no strain to the singer, and is at such a pitch 
as the Voice delights in " ^ — I say, since this progres- 
sion of the lower part has since become a rule of 
Art, for there is no rule more constantly observed by 
us, than to send up the Bass to our governing note, 
which is the Dom.inant, as soon as it conveniently can — 
we may explain this rule of ours by saying that Bass 
is in reality old Melody, and still affects out of habit 
a similar favourite progression to that which it by 
preference observed, when it was no mere complement 
to the song as it is now, but the actual Melody, and 
the soul and centre of the Music. And this reflection 
will lead us to that other one, how if the Greek 
Melody was the Bass, and ours soars so far above it, 
the Art of Music, like other things in the world, has 
developed through gradual superposition ; for such a 
change as this, 

ZZ Melody 

ZIZ^~ Melody 

could never come in a single night, nor by a turn of 
the finger, but we must imagine the elements gradually 
laid on, like strata in the water, and the melody each 
time rising little by little nearer the surface, as thus, 

r7y » — ^ - r /Vv ^~ Melody VJak )' — h^ — 

Melody l:^S~^~ P^§ZZ^~ 

t— " — r— " — r 

1 Ptolemy. Harmonics. 11. 11. 



L ^ Melody 

'<ri^ Melody- 


and that this was the course of music's development, 
it will be our task in future volumes to show. In 
the meantime, many have been the fanciful comparisons 
that have been made between the Art of Music and 
the Art of Architecture, and often, I think, they have 
only been figuratively understood by those that made 
them — but here we have the dream incarnate before 
us. And I have often thought that if we would 
restore to our imagination those ancient melodies that 
time has long made havoc with, we cannot do so 
better than by listening to the Bass of our own music. 
In unbroken tradition, I imagine, has been preserved 
and lain there all this while the simple Melody of 
antiquity. Whatever meretriciousness has affected the 
other parts of the concert, the Bass has always re- 
mained chaste and pure — fit heirloom to us from those 
ancient times when all was chastity and simplicity. 
So that when I listen to the Bass Viols impressing 
themselves mightily on the Orchestra, it takes me back 
to those ancient days when Great Harps of Egypt 
boomed in the palaces of Memphian kings. For that 
ancient Egyptian music we may well imagine was 
similarly constituted to what the Greek was, though in 
the mists of antiquity we cannot read it so clearly. 

And seeing now how Music is like to reflect the course 
of all things, in being a superposition but no destruc- 
tion, a gradual growth and no sudden exhibition of 
completeness, let us see how else it mirrors in little 
the goings on of the world. For it is plain that in 
having our Melody in the Treble, and our Harmony, 


or accompaniment, in the Bass, we have worked round 
to the exact contradiction of those ancient musics, 
which had their Harmony, or accompaniment, in the 
Treble, and their Melody in the Bass. And taking 
the Greek Music as our illustration, let us see if 
there are any other points, in which we have similarly 
arrived at the contradictory of the ancient style. And 
it will be plain there are many, and indeed in nearly 
all we have done so. For first, the Melody in the 
Treble, which then was in the Bass, as we have said ; 
and next, something which flows out of this, for they 
called that " high " (wTrarrj) which we call " low," and 
" low " (vj'/TJ?) which we call " high " ; and similarly 
" above " (yirep) where we say " beneath," and " beneath " 
where we say " above." In a similar way, they counted 
their Scale downwards, we upwards ; and their intervals 
downwards, which we count also upwards. And the 
progression of the Melody (z. e. our Bass) was similarly 
inverse, for we are directly told that by preference it 
started at the 8ve of the Tonic, and descended to the 
4th, which is the 5 th below,^ while our Bass starts at 
the Tonic, and ascends to the 5th above. And what 
is still more curious, it will be found that their 
common scale is simply ours read backwards, since 
take the scale of C, and read it backwards, and it 
will give the common Greek Scale, that is, the Dorian 
Mode, or Smaller Scale of Pythagoras, that is, the 
semitone will occur between the ist and 2nd notes, 
and 5th and 6th, precisely as it does in the Greek 
Scale. These are some of the points in which Music 
has arrived at the precise contradictory of the theory 
of antiquity, and more might be quoted. And without 

1 And downward intervals were always considered more melodious than 
upward ones, in the same way. (Arist. Prob. 33.) 


pausing to put forward any isolated explanation of 
these strange facts, we had rather regard them as 
part and parcel of the general movements of the 
human mind, and exemplifications of a law which 
runs through all things. For progress proceeds by- 
contradiction ; and not only is this true of the de- 
velopment of the individual man, and may be seen in 
the history of nations, but also of large sweeps of 
time over and above these, in which it is no hard 
thing to see, that in trivial things as well as great 
things we naturally work round to the exact opposite 
of the method and thought of precedent antiquity. 
At first they wrote from right to left, now from left 
to right ; once the earth stood still and the sun 
moved, now the earth moves and the sun stands 
still ; once they worshipped many gods, now one ; 
once they believed in a past life, now in a future ; 
and so we might go on enumerating, but it is plain 
that the course of Music has proceeded like these 
other things. 

And now having mentioned the engrossing im- 
portance of the 4thj or Subdominant, in Greek Music, 
and how it stood in the place of our Dominant, we 
must briefly examine one or two more of its relations 
in which it served the same purpose. And we use the 
the Dominant, indeed, in interchange with the Tonic, 
to procure the necessary relief of key in strains and 
phrases, and they the Subdominant in like manner ; but 
we also employ a periodic and prolonged substitution 
of the Dominant for • the Tonic, as the base of our 
Musical Forms, and all our Forms turn on this 
prolonged substitution, from the simple Melody to the 
Form of the Symphony. In the same way, their 
extended forms of composition turned on the prolonged 
substitution of the 4th, or Subdominant ; for the 



Antistrophe, I imagine, was sung in the Subdominant 
of the Strophe, and answered to the 2nd Subject of our 
Sonatas or Symphonies, or better, to the middle 
period of Andantes, 8ic^ The 4th also served the 
theorists as the framework on which they arranged 
the Modes, for they often arranged the Modes by 
Subdominants, as we arrange our scales by Dominants, 
setting, that is, each a 4th above the other, as yEolian, 
Dorian, Mixolydian &c., and the Greek name for 
Subdominant is Mcse, and this is called the arrange- 
ment by Meses.'^ And I imagine that it also served 
as the chief means of Modulating in Greek Music, that 
is, passing from Mode to Mode, for this is a thing that 
was often done, to pass from one Mode to the other ; 
and we know that the Dorian and Mixolydian were 
freely used in the same piece together, that is, the 

Dorian Mode on 

— , and the Mixolydian 

Mode on 


a 4th above, and also the 

iEolian with the Dorian, -^'— ■ 




the Hypophrygian with the Phrygian, and so on.^ So 
that it seems the Greek Modulation was principally by 
Subdominants, or 4ths, which will merit a more minute 
inquiry hereafter. And looking at this despotism of 
the 4th, or Subdominant, in Greek music, and its 
general effect on the complexion of the Music, I think 
it would produce a subdued tone in the Music, by 

J See the Problem of Aristotle, discussed at the end of this Book. 
^ e.g. Ptolemy's arrangement by Meses iii his ?nd Book. 
? Plutarch. Pe Musica, 16. 

E E 


contrast to ours, which also the general depth of the 
pitch, and the Melody running in the Bass would also 
concur to cause. Nor must we forget to add that the 
Common Chord of the Harmony was not the Tonic 
and Dominant, as with us, but the Tonic and 

Subdominant, not p^=^— , that is to say, but 
t j 

(only two notes being taken, as we have 

said), and this chord of ist and 4th has a very grave 
and tranquil character, and constantly occurring, as it 
did, would also help to subdue and tone down the 
general effect. 

This being so, then, and the 4th playing so im- 
portant a part in the music, we cannot wonder that 
Pythagoras attached special importance to it, both as 
the note and the interval, and more particularly as 
the interval, which he regarded as second in import- ifl^ 
ance to the 8ve alone, setting it much above the 
5th, because its tone was purer, and even ranking it 
with the 8ve itself as one of the two Perfect Con- 
sonances — though necessarily the inferior one.i For 
the Octave was the sovereign despot, and supreme in- 
terval in the Pythagorean system, nor could the Fourth 
be in any way intrinsically compared to it, though, 
for the various reasons already mentioned, it might 
affect a superficial parallel, and even by Pythagoras 
himself, though at an infinitely lower level, be ranked 
in certain associations along with it. But these over, 
and the purity of the interval and its frequency in 
the music dismissed from the mind, how did the 

1 Nicomaclius. Harmonics, 



4th flutter and fall, while the 8ve grew and over- 
spread all the Pythagorean theory, in a way to efface 
or conceal every other harmony beside ! For, how 
could the diminutive and incomplete 4th compare 
with that great interval, which gave completeness and 
rotundity to musical concord, and was its very type 
and soul ? or how could the part — which was the 
4th, since the 4th and 5th together make the octave 
— compare with the whole ? evincing, in its being a 
part, that very incompleteness and inferiority, which 
it was already assumed to possess. This aggrandise- 
ment of the Octave, indeed, at the expense of every 
other interval, is one of the most curious and in- 
tricate chapters in the history of Pythagoreanism, and 
leads to results which may well amaze those who 
read it. The play of the interval itself, indeed, in 
practical music was by comparison a limited one. 
We have noticed its entry into harmony under the 
Lesbian School of Singers, and by benefit of Semitic 
influences, early in our history ; at which time great 
instruments of ten and twenty strings were con- 
structed for the express; purpose of playing in octaves. 
Such were the Magadis, the Pectis, the Barbitos, and 
later on, the Epigoneion, the Simicium, and others. 
While at the same time the practice of singing in 
Octave Harmony — that is, Antiphony, or Magadising, 
as it was called — also commenced, and indeed con- 
tinued throughout the whole life of Greek Music, 
both as cultivated by Choruses and by solo singers. 
Thus the domain of the Octave in practical music 
was apparently extensive enough, though really 
limited. For neither did the Magadis instruments, 
which exhibited it, attain a popularity like to that 
of the Lyre, in whose harmony the 8ve merely played 
an equal part with the 4th, 5th, and other intervals ; 


nor was chorus singing as a rule so regulated, as to 
give a preference to Octave Harmony rather than to 
the simple Unison. In practical music, then, the 
Octave might well have mustered merely in company 
with the other harmonies ; but in the abstruseness of 
theory, and under the speculations of the Pythago- 
reans, it attained a rank of supremacy and indeed of 
omnipotence, that threw into the shade the whole 
musical art besides, and led to results perhaps the 
most surprising that history has ever }'et had to 

To Pythagoras the Octave was the type of all 
Harmony,^ that is, he saw in the constitution of the 
Octave, as it was composed of 5th and 4th,2 ^\^q 
type or indeed the incarnation of the process, by 
which all Harmony of whatever kind was effected. 
For to the exhibition of a Harmony, said Pythagoras, 
there are alwa}'s two things necessary, first, Uncon- 
ditioned Matter, and secondly, the Principle of Form.^ 
Now the Unconditioned Matter in the case of the 
Octave was the two intervals, the 4th and the 5th, 
as they existed apart and independenth- in music ; 
and the Principle of Form was the energy of the 
Octave Interval which should bring them together, 
and blending itself with their union produce the 
Perfect Octave as the result. And because he chose 
this instance for a t\'pe, where the Unconditioned 
Matter is represented by two components, namel}', 
the interval of the 4th and the interval of the 5th, 
he would express all Unconditioned ^Matter b\- the 


1 Xicomachus. Harmonics. 

^ apfiovtag §£ }iiyiBijc Ivri tri-XXa/St/ Koi ti o^uuv. Philolaus 
in Stobaeus. 462. 

2 ~o -ipau'ov Koi Tci a-iipa. Cf. also PnrphjTv's Physics. III. io|. 


THE GREEKS'. 42 f 

number, 2 ;i but the Principle of Form he expressed 
by the number, i.^ And the process of the Har- 
mony consisted in the blending of the Form with 
the Matter, as we have said, which thus received 
cohesion between its parts, and m this way was 
the Harmony effected. As the two intervals, the 4th 

i— ^— and the 5th -^•— j=: exist at first apart 

in music, unconditioned, and undetermined in their 
relations to each other. In this state they are 
the number, 2. But by the introduction of the 
Principle of Unity or Form, i, they receive that 
cohesion that they lack and that conditioning that 

they desire, and produce p^'=^— 1 + 2, the 


Now in the purely arithmetical exposition of this 
process the result will be the same. For the 4th 
expressed in numbers, is 3 : 4, and the 5th is 2 : 3^ 
and the union and cohesion of the 4th and the 5th, 
that is, their multiplication together, 3+4x2 + 3 
— gives the product, 6 + 12, that is, 1 + 2, the 

In its purely arithmetical exposition did Pytha- 
goras by preference regard the process, as being 
easier of comprehension to the vulgar, and also 
because to him Music was but the sound of Numbers, 
or Numbers were the secret principles of Music, and 
both were commensurate. 

And since i + 2 was the completion of the 

^ Johannes Laurentius. De Mensibus. II. 6. 

- Laurentius. lb. See also Porphyiy* Vita Pytliagors. 49. 


Octave Harmony, that is, the addition of the 
Principle of Form, i, to the Principle of Unconditioned 
Matter, 2, and the addition of i to 2 is expressed 
as 3, Pythagoras took 3 as the Principle of 
Completeness, and he said that the number 3 was the 
power and composer of music ;^ for not only docs it 
express the composition of the Octave, but of some- 
thing else beside — and now indeed shall we see the 
Octave grow and enlarge itself on our art in a divine 
manner, according to the teachings of Pythagoras — - 
for not only does 3, that is, 1+2, express the 
completion of the Octave Harmony, but the com- 
pletion of that Harmony doth bring simultaneously 
into being the whole musical scale. For the Scale, 
as we have seen Pythagoras write it, writing it, that 
is to say, in the numerical equivalents of Octave, 
I : 2, 5th, 2 : 3, 4th, 3 : 4, and Tone, 8 : 9, 
which was generally written with the various numbers 
alone, i, 2, 3, 4, 8, 9, and with the addition of their 
sum total, i.e., 27, at the end, and stood expressed 
normally in the formula, 

I. 2. 3. 4. 8. 9. 27. 
the scale, I say, which, so expressed, composed the 
Holy Heptad, or Septenary, which were the Seven 
Sacred Numbers of the Pythagoreans,^ was proved 
to have arisen in Music from an original completion 
of the Octave Harmony, i -J- 2. For since in the 
primeval marriage of i and 2 the immediate result 
was the 8ve, that is, 1 + 2, and the connection of 
the I and 2 is expressed by 3, then at once came 
fair descendants, being indeed the direct and instan- 
taneous brood of this royal pair, for each number 
contained within itself its square and its cube, and 

1 Porphyry. Vit. Pytli. - Hierocles in Aureum Carmen. 


in this way did the complete scale at once flash to 

the light :— ^ 

Square of 2. Cube of 2. Square of 3. Cube of 3. 

I. 2. 3. 4 8. 9. 27. 

Thus was the whole Musical Scale shown to pro- 
ceed from the mystical union of i and 2, and the 
whole art of Music had developed therefrom. 

Now most agreeable to such a genesis was the 
scxing of the numbers that made it. The Number 

1 was held the Father of Number,^ and the Number 

2 the Mother of Number.^ From i, as from a Sire, 
did Music proceed, from 2, as from a Mother. And 
as I and 2 were considered Male and Female, so 
were the other numbers likewise considered and sexed 
accordingly, that is to say, up to 10, beyond which 
limit number was considered imperfect,4 since the 
numbers after 10 do but repeat themselves ; a special 
exception being made in favour of the number 27, 
which occurred- as one of the seven numbers in the 
Holy Heptad. And the Odd Numbers were con- 
sidered Male,s because they partook of the character 
of the first Odd Number, which is i,^ which was 
the type of Unity, and Permanence, and Identity, 
and likewise the Principle of Form. 7 And the Even 

^ The Anonymous Commentator in Ptolomaei Tetrabiblon. I. Plutarch. 
De Procreatione Anhnse. cf. also De Musica. 22. 

- Cedrenus. I. 208. ^ 15, 4 Cedrenus I. p. 269. 

5 Macrobius. Saturn. I. 13. 

" In strict Pythagorean language the Number i could not be spoken 
of as Odd, and the writer only does it here under reservation, to avoid an 
intricacy of detail, for it was VTTtp apiOfiov and ovBe lirl apriov 
fJuSt ETTt Tov TTSpiTTOV piOiGTaTai. Some would even make it 
sexless in the same manner, but wrongly, since appi]v OTi or} yovipfi:- 
Tari], says Laurentius, and in another place, to ev tavLV appev. 

7 apipriQ Koi lip^raftokog kcu avroKivr]Tog ' povipog ' tu)V 
l^er aur77V aiTia, &C. See also Porphyry. Vita. Pyth. 49. 

424 History of music. 

Numbers Female, in like manner, because they par- 
took of the characteristics of the first Even Number, 
2, which was the type of Change, and Difference, 
and Instability,! and in contrast with i, which was 
the Principle of Unity, 2 was taken as the type of 
Multiplicity.2 And the Even Numbers were consi- 
dered female also for this reason, that they can be 
divided exactly in the middle,^ but Odd Numbers 
cannot be so divided.^ Thus the Even Numbers were 
subject to Section and Passion, but the Odd Num- 
bers were devoid of both,^ and agreeably to this the 
typical Even Number, that is, 2, passed from being 
a type of Change and Multiplicity to being also the 
type of Matter, which is the Passive and Divided 
element in the Universe,^ but the typical Odd Num- 
ber, which is I, Avas the principle of Unity, which 
acted on Matter, and gave it its Form and Cohesion.7 
And now if we would be at one with the 
Pythagoreans in their conception of Numbers, we must 
consider it in this way : — For Pythagoras said that A 
is indeed a triangle. But not that which falls under 
our eyes is the triangle. But that only awakes in our 
minds the idea of the Triangle,^ which is the im- 
palpable and eternal form of the number 3, that 
radiates through Nature ; and wherever we see objects 
that have three parts, or actions in the same way, as 
the beginnings, middle, and end of things, this is but 

1 The Odd were vow Kcii. 4'^XriQ avaKW/.ta-— the Even, jevetnoQ 

KOI fxeraftoXrig. (Philolaus in Stob.) aaratog kol TroXvfxtraldoXog 

says Lydus. Cf. also Porphyry, loc. cit. 

'■^ Laurentius. De Mensibus. IL 6 

3 Nicomachus' Arithmetic. I- cap. 6. * lb. 

5 Anon. Comment, in Ptol. Tetr. 1. " Laurentius II. 6. 

1 Porphyry. Vita Pyth. « lb. 


the number 3 working its way through to the surface.^ 
In a similar way, when we see change, and multiphcity, 
and decay, that is the number 2 expressing itself. 
And similarly, unity, and permanence, and tenacity are 
the number i. Thus is the marriage of man and 
woman but the momentary emergence of the number 5 
to the surface of things, for 5 is the union of the 
Feminine 2 with the Masculine 3,2 and such events 
are but the shaping which we unconsciously give to 
the temporary predominance of that number. In a 
similar way, Friendship and Love are the veils 
behind which 8 is working. Or what is all purity 
and innocence of life but the radiance which 7 emits, 
which is the Virgin Number, and partakes most 
nearly of the direct essence of the Father? Or what 
is 6 but the androgyn, being the number of Venus, 
and compound of either sex, for it is the 
multiplication of the Feminine 2 by the Masculine 3,^ 
and all things that partake at once of softness and 
stability, of variety and yet of unity, are but the 
seals and soft impressions which 6 is setting on the 

Now in a strange way does the Number i differ 
from the other numbers, for while they only exist 
in impalpable essence, being but the luminous 
outlines and spiritual pulses of things and actions, 
the Number i has rendered itself incarnate. For 
over and above that existence of invisible energy, 
which the Father of Number shares with the other 
numbers, but to far higher perfection than they, 

1 Porphyry. Vita Pyth. 51. 

2 Hlerocles in Aureum Carmen. 

'•^ The Anonymous Theologus. Also in Laurentius. Cf. the Orphic 
fragment which he quotes. 


existing in eternal repose and at unity with itself,^ 
there have been from all eternity corporal emanations 
proceeding from its beatific essence, which are the 
ultimate atoms of which all things are composed. 
So there is one One, and there are many Ones, and 
these indeed are aptly called the Monads, as partaking 
of the essence of the divine and perfect Monad, which 
is the Number One. And like it they are indivisible, 
but in the immeasurable distance of emanation from the 
first spring and glittering source of their existence they 
have from the first failed to preserve more than this 
one tincture of the divine essence, and in every other 
way are they but dusky images and unreal repetitions 
of that pattern of excellent energy which produced 
them, being subject to flux, and vicissitude, and change, 
and instability, and passion, and suffering, being indeed 
the Hyle on which the other numbers work, that play 
in eternal beauty behind the curtain of Nature. And 
though the Monads be of themselves indivisible, being 
each in itself an ultimate atom, and so far partaking of 
the perfection of One, yet in their entirety they are 
subject to eternal division, being continually thrown 
into new combinations by the energy of the numbers, 
and divided and re-divided in their totality for ever, and 
for this reason, and also because they are the embodi- 
ment of all multiplicity, they are aptly expressed and 
indeed identical with the number 2, which is the 
principle of Change, and Instability, and Multiplicity, 
and Passion, and therefore synonymous with Matter, 
which is composed of the atoms, which are the 
Monads.2 And since the number 2 is a Feminine 

^ 6 aTTOs h:i.KHva /aivcov Iv ry eavTOV ov(fia Kcd rrpoc, 
tavrbv crvvearpaiufdvoQ. Lauientius. II. 3. 
2 These are the aireipa of Philolaus, as I take it. In Stobreus. 485. 


number, therefore the totahty of the Monads, which is 
Matter, is Feminine hkewise. And these are the 
emanations from the Number One, and in this way 
does the Number One differ from all other numbers, in 
having effected its incarnation, though but in the ashes 
of its splendour. 

Thus not only the invisible but also the visible 
universe is composed of numbers, for the Monads 
being corporal atoms, we may see them and touch 
them by myriads in any of their countless combina- 
tions,^ for they are the matter of all bodies ; but 
those great Numbers that have ribbed them into form 
we cannot see, unless by dark proxy or filmy reper- 
cussion of celestial lineament, contemplating them in 
those forms of atoms that best repeat the invisible 
impression, as in a Triangle we may best see the 
form of the eternal 3, or in a Square the form of that 
divine and glorious 4, on which the Pythagoreans loved 
so much to dwell. For the beauty of 4 was less 
oppressive than that of the other numbers, and it had 
mirrored itself in larger outline on the masses of 
Nature, and so its pictures were more easily appre- 

1 This is how I understand it. rag /xovaSag, says Aristotle (Meta- 
physics. XI. 6.), VT7o\a}i%dvovaiv ^X^tv /aiy^Oog. And he reflects 
on the erroneous opinion of certain Pythagoreans that to TTpwrov fv 
E^ot fiiyeuog. I imagine we could have no better authority than the 
words of Pytliagoras liiniself, as to how we are to take the case, 
TYjV filv fxovaSa 9wv, rriv 8' aopiaTOv ovaca (In Plutarcli's 
Placita Philos. I. 7.) : the Unconditioned Dyad was the Monads, the 
6piC,(i)V was tlie Monad, as indeed tliere are no other factors possible in 
the question, since o 6\og ovpavbg (TwiarrfKev £s apiB/XMV ttAtjv 
ov fj.ovadiK(t)V (Aristotle, loc. cit.) So that all go out except Monads ; 
and in the words of Pythagoras himself, 6 Koafiog dvyKurat Ik 
/xovaSwv KoX Tod TviiiTTTOV (JTOLX^oV, ^hich was the Monad in a 
certain exhibition of his energy, of which we have yet to treat. 

428 History op music. 

hended by the mind. And we may see that beauty in 
the 4 seasons, and admire its ubiquity in the 4 
elements,! which are Fire, Air, Earth, and Water. 
Thus may we see 4 looming. Now may we see the 
excellent beauty of 7 expressing its loveliness in the 
Pleiades and the Constellation of the Bear ;^ nor less 
so in the number of the Planets, agreeably to which 
the grouping of all the stars is doubtless formed.^ 
But in the Senses of our own bodies we may feel 
and perceive the influence of the subtle and far 
ramifying Five,'^ and in other and homelier illustrations 
upon us the influence of the all-powerful Ten.^ In 
what purity of attire does a Hexagon mirror the 
everlasting Six ! ^ with what exactitude a cube the 
eternal Eight ! How do all objects evince in their 
texture and forms the energy of the Numbers, whether 
they be circular, and thus give out the Unity of i, 
or many-sided and shapeless, and argue the Multi- 
plicity of 2, or Square, and speak of the power of 4, 
or pointed and triangular, and thus declare the potency 
of 3 ! 7 For surely is the whole Universe composed of 
Numbers, not only in its matter, but likewise its 
form. Not only is its matter made of them, but its 
form determined by them, as they work in aptest 
architecture behind the veil of things. The Monads 
are the Matter, which are the corporal emanations of 
the Number One, and the Numbers are the formulators, 
which are its spiritual emanations. And happy indeed 

1 They err who attribute the doctrine of the 4 elements in tlie first 
instance to Empedocles, iince Diogenes Liertius (VIII. 2i.) expressly 
mentions it as Pythagoras'. 

2 Porphyry. Vita Pyth. 3 ib, 

* Hierocles in Aureum Carmen. ^ j^^^ 

e Jamblichus. Vit. Pyth. 

' Laurentius Lydus. De Mens. II. 


is he who understands that great Number in all its 
relations ! for no doubt will ever oppress his mind, or 
falsehood enter into his conceptions, for he will then 
understand the divine energy of all the numbers, which 
is Music, and be face to face with the Soul and 
sustaining Spirit of the Universe,^ which though in 
the plasticity of formulated emanation and to general 
exoteric comprehension it must indeed appear as 3, 
that is, 1 + 2, and the effectuated and Universal 
Octave, yet in the precedent eternity of noetic 
existence, and even still, in the justness of esoteric 
conception, it shall be discerned as i, the Father of 
all, and the Master Number,^ which runs through all 
things, and weaves them into unity and cohesion by 
the energy of its music.3 Thus while the other 
numbers display themselves in parts and fragments 
only of Being, in larger or indeed in totality of 
pattern we may contemplate the Number One, whether 
we regard it as i, that is, as the Author of all 
things, or as 3, that is, as the effectuated and 
Universal Octave, and their Sustainer. 

Now by what means, then, and in what way was 
the Universal Octave accomplished, which we have 
seen before in an episode of its excellence, as giving 
birth to the Musical Scale, but arc now to behold in 
a greater aspect of its grandeur, as giving its form 

^ Till' juovuca TzavTOJV dp)(riv fXeYoy YlvOajopsioi (Anony- 
ir,u3. De Vita Pyth. 6.) and ^^^ fxlvada Oeov (sc. ciTrorpaiveraL 
UvOayopag.) Plutarch. De Plac. Phil. 

" Johannes Lauienlius. Also in Moderatus of Gades his Eleven Books 
of Pythagoric tenets. 

^ Animam esse per naturam rei'um omnium intentam et commeaiitem (sc. 
conlirmat Pythagoras.) Cicero. De Nat. Deorum. I. 11. Pythagoras dixit 
finimam esse harmoniam. Macrobius in Somn. Scip. I. i^. 


and indeed its existence to the Universe itself? ^ In 
what way was this great result accomplished, which 
is described as the accomplishment of Harmony^ — 
and since to Pythagoras the 8ve was the type of all 
Harmony, most justly is the Universal Octave de- 
scribed as such ? And it took place in the Universe 
as it took place in the Musical Scale, and was in- 
deed in every respect identical ; and the same num- 
bers, that is, the numbers i and 2, took part in the 
accomplishment of it, only now they were written 
large, so as to lie over all things. For to the ex- 
hibition of a Harmony, said Pythagoras, there were 
always two things necessary, first, Unconditioned 
Matter, and secondly, the Principle of Form. And 
in the case of the Musical Octave the Unconditioned 
Matter was the Intervals, the 4th and the 5th, as 
they existed apart and in antagonism to each other, 

1 Philolaus in Stobseus, p. 485. TTEol §£ ^(pvaiOQ KOi apjuoviag 
wSe e)^et ' a [jlIv foro) rtov Trpajfiardyv aiBiog iarra koI avrd 
juitv a (j)vaig ddav re Kcd ovic avopoJTTivav Ivci^erai jvioaLV^ 
ttXeov ja rj on owk oiov r iig ovOivi tgjv Iovtwv koI yiy- 
vcocTKOfxiviov v(j)^ (ifxCjv yvuicyQ^juv, jui) vwapyjjvaag avTcig 
ivTog Twv TT pay liar (i)v it, wv avviara 6 Kocrjuog, tCjv T£ 
TTEpafVovrwv Koi tCjv dtrupMV ' eTTft ci re ap\ciL vrrap^ov 01;^ 
ouoiai ouS' lifiof^vXoi eaarai, i]oi] ciovvarov rig av Kcd avraig 
Ki)(Jjiy]dqniv, d fin apjiiovia eTreyevero, mtivl av Tpoiroj Irreyi- 

ViTO. And that this apfxovia of Philolaus was nothing more nor less 
than the 8ve we may well know, not only from Aristides (I. p. 17.) 
irapa TOig iraXaioig to Bid waawv apjJLOvia, but also from Philo- 
laus himself (in Stobasus 462.) apfxoviav Bl jueyeOog ivri avXXa'^d 
Ka\ dl o^eiav, " Now the apfiovia is composed of a 4th and a 5th." 
Bockh also in his Philolaus des Pylhagoreers I.ehren expressly alludes 
to tJiis fact. 

~ Diogenes Laertius. VIII. 23. KaO' apfwviav avv^dTUvai rd 

o\a. ' 


and the Principle of Form was the energy of the 
8ve Interval, which penetrated them and gave them 

But now in the Universal Octave the Uncon- 
ditioned Matter was the Number 2 in its physical 
aspect, that is, the Monads, or Atoms ; ^ and the 
Principle of Form was the Number One, the Divine 
and Primal Monad,^ from whose beatific essence they 
had proceeded. How then did that blending or 
penetration of the Number One with the Number 
Two take place on that larger plane which is the 
Universe, and thus the Universal Octave was effectu- 
ated, which gave its present form and smiling pattern 
to the things we see around us ? What shall we say 
of the times that were, before this frame had set to 
order ? and what things happened to induce its sym- 
metry ? And this tale, which is one of the mysteries 
of Pythagoreanism, it will be worth our while to hear. 
For this is the song that Orpheus sang,^ how Har- 
mony was heard, wjien earth and heavens were blent 
and blotted in a heap, and then from the rocking 
blackness the spangled world arose."^ F'or the Monads, 

1 Philolaus in Stob. • lb. 

3 I think that passage in Clemens, ruvTO Si tol to irav &C., 
cannot be read without seeinjj in it an obvious allusion to a musical 
construction of the Universe in the Orphic Cosmogony, which we can 
only know by such hints as this. Cf, also Jamblichus. 145. prjreov 
ojg tTjq IlvOayopiKTiQ kut apiBiuov OeoXojiag TrapuSeiy/ua 
Ivapyhg tKuro ttmc; Iv 'O()0£T. Cf. Id. 146. The 'ifpoc Xoyoc 
of Pythagoras WC «v £K tov //uorticwrarou cnrr]v9i(T/.iivov Trapa 
'Op^fi TUTTOV 'it was culled from the most mystic flowers of 
Orpheus.' For other connections between Pythagoras and Orpheus, cf. 
Jamblichus. 28. Bryennius. Harmon. I. i. 

* Strabo. II. 468. Ka9' apjioviav tov Kocxfiov (TvvearavaL 
(paaiv (i.e. 01 YlvOayupeiOL) Aristotle. Metaphysics, rbv uAov 
ovpavov apfioviav. 


which are the atoms, seethed and tossed in the 
ancient sea of chaos, and all was blinding hail and 
dirty weather, pitch blackness and crashing thunder 
throughout the Universe, nor any streak of grey or 
speck of morning light in that wild night, where no 
lull ever came, and midnight was never past. Each 
separate atom of the horrid brew struggled and tore 
each other, or great black things, that were misformed 
worlds, fell to pieces in collision. What barkings 
rang through the horrid vaults, as echoes took up 
the sound from longitude to longitude ! — and these 
indeed were the sighs of despair of the struggling 
Universe, that could never come to the birth. For 
there could be no union and no form, while still the 
matter of the Universal Octave lay void and empty 
of the Principle that should attune it.^ But the time 
came at last .when the Divine and Primal Monad, out 
of his boundless compassion for his suffering emana- 
tions that still struggled and tossed without hope of 
deliverance, being the body without the soul, or the 
shapeless embryo without the spirit that should form 
it — lifted up his energy to impregnate the awful deep, 
and descending from his station of celestial repose and 
beauty, swept right through Chaos. What heavenly 
harmony did then arise, when the Great Octave was 
made incarnate ! What flockings and gatherings 
together of atoms, and matching of piece with piece ! 
And straight does Darkness fly away, and the joy of 

1 Philolaus. (cit.) tTTti St re apx^*^ VTrcip^^ov ovy(^ bpunai owS' 
d}x6<^v\oi icTcrai, 7;o»; hovvarov j/c av Koi avraiQ KCcrjurjOriiuev, 
£1 ^r) ttpjuovia iTreytvero. Nicomacbus. Arithmetic. II. Ik ixa^o- 
fxivuiv KOt IvavTiwv (rvviarr} rd o\a icot hkotwq ap/ioviav 
vm^i^aro. And a /alv apjuovia ioriy dpEra Koafiuv. Hippodamus 
Pythagoncus in Galli Opusc. Mythglog. p. 664. 


Light begins. For the first element of Music that put 
forth its force was the power of Rhythm, and soon 
Vibration begins to stir the mass. Then those im- 
palpable atoms, which were the spray of the turbid 
sea, marshalled mto columns, and swept with un- 
utterable swiftness across the subsiding waste, and 
lo ! they were Light.^ Spangles and flakes of light 
they shed in golden rain wherever they troop their 
bright battalions, and the world laughs to see this 
foretaste of its beauty. And next the Divine and 
Primal Monad crept to a closer embrace with his 
bewildered bride,^ and on each separate atom that 
composed her he stamped the image of himself And 
henceforth shall each atom be a little octave, that is, 
it shall be in mignature a perfect pattern of the 
Universe. For let us ask what this marriage had 
already been, for he was i and the energy of the 
Octave, and she was 2, the unconditioned and un- 
formed matter of the Octave, and by their union 
was the perfect Octave produced, i -f 2. But next 
the Divine and Primal Monad crept to a closer 
embrace, and on each separate atom that formed the 
bewildered mass he stamped the image of himself 
And now must each atom bear the impress of the 
form. For what is this terminology of 2, for un- 
disciplined and unconditioned Matter, or what is the 
energy of 2 that so expresses itself, but the energy 
of Discord or Repulsion, to which 2 things are 

1 The only difference between Sound and Light is the rate at 
■which the particles are made to vibrate. And to produce Light they 
must vibrate with such swiftness that only impalpable molecules can 
attain the required velocity. But to produce Sound palpable moles 
can attain it. 

' Dihgitur corpus ab aniilla. Claudianus Mamertus. De Anima. IT. 

F F 


necessary, that which repels, and that which is 
repelled ? Most aptly then was primordial Matter 
conceived as 2, because this was the spirit that 
penetrated it. But on the other hand, as 2 was 
Discord, so was i Concord, 2 Hate that severs, i 
Love that joins. And since by the incussion of i 
into 2, Matter became disciplined and subdued, this 
is but saying that henceforth Love was grafted on 
the Universal Plane as the makeweight to Discord, 
and both must henceforth be represented there, which 
gave the Octave, 1+2, the mirror and Principle of 
all things. And now, I say, after this divine effectua- 
tion, or casting the shadow of these numbers in giant 
letters over the bosom of the Universe, must each 
separate atom put on the trappings of its great con- 
tainer, and be charged with the same storage of 
Attraction and Repulsion, have its Attractive and 
Repulsive pole,i like those two Attractive and Repulsive 
poles, whose balance steadies the worlds. And now the 
atoms, instead of eternal struggling and tearing of each 
other, could combine and sort themselves, now attract- 
ing, now repelling, hurrying hither and thither, and 
joining into substances. And in this way the materials 
of the Universe were constituted.^ And some combined 
in unisons, and some in octaves, and some in the 
harmony of the fifth, and some in twelfths, and some in 

1 This is but the application of the Pythagorean theory to the 
Modern theory of atomic texture, which attributes such a texture to. 
every atom on the familiar illustration of the broken magnet. In the 
same way, that which follov;s is the application of the Pythagorean 
theoiy to the modern theory of atomic combination. 

' Quintil. De Inst. Orat. I. lo. 12. Mundum ipsum musices ratior.e 
esse compositum, quam postea sit lyra imitata. Cf. Michael PseUius. 

De omnifaria doctrina. p. 143. Also Athenjeus. p. 622. nvuayopag 

aTro^afftrat rj}y tov TravTog ovcriav Sta jnovaiKTig cjvyKiijiivrjv. 




other harmonies ; for the Great Scale of Numbers was 
effectuated also by the striking of the Octave, and all 
the harmonies were being heard. And the atoms com- 
bined in unisons, as those two gassy atoms, that go as 
I : I and form Water, or those that form Nitrous 
Oxide, or Ammonia, or Nitrous Gas, or Nitrous Acid, 
all combining in unisons to form these substances, 
uniting atom with atom, i : i ; in octaves, as those 
atoms that unite i : 2, to form Carbonic Acid, or 
Nitric Acid, or Nitric Oxide, or the Binoxides of 
Manganese and of Hydrogen, and other things, 
uniting i atom with 2 atoms, i : 2, on the pattern 
of the octave to form these things; in 5ths, as those' 
atoms that unite 2 : 3, on the pattern of the 5th, 
and form Peroxide of Iron, or Phosphorous Acid, or 
Arsenious Acid ; in I2ths, as those atoms that unite 
on the pattern of the 12th, 3 : i, to form Sulphuric 
Acid, and Oxynitrous Acid, and Hyponitrous Acid, 
and other things. And other musical ratios could we 
give, according to all of which are the substances of 
the Universe composed. And while the atoms were 
> swiftly working in beautiful music to form these 
cunning alchemies, meantime the Divine and Primal 
Monad sent great sweeps of Music into the Universe, 
and it began to stir in masses. And Fire, which 
is inimical to Harmony, fled to the centre, and 
the other elements fled away from the central fire,i 
and soared in giant detachments into illimitable space. 
But he, whose soul is love and the pulse of all 
attraction, stayed them in mid career, and such love 
had they beside to one another, that further they 
would not go than where they could each attract the 

1 Pliilolaus in Stob. 


other, and spread a universal harmony throughout 
eternal Nature. Nor are they further apart in due 
comparison, those worlds innumerable that crowd the 
endless fields of space, than is atom from atom to us 
in this little globe of ours, but form one continuous 
and golden floor, brave treading for the Eternal ! ^ 
And there they danced in harmonious measure all 
round the central fire, the Sun, the Moon, the Earth, 
the Stars, the Planets ; and this is the Dance of the 
Cosmos. 2 

And these are the general outlines of the Universal 
Order, but who shall tell of the arrangement of the 
detail ? Or take this jewelled trinket that we call 
the Earth, which at a distance to those who dwell in 
other globes seems but a little shining ball that courses 
prettily about, nor can they imagine aught else about 
its texture, than as of some round ball of brass with 
a blank bright surface, that glitters in the night time. 
But we who sail on it — we know its tracery, and 
the thousand rainbow webs that wrap it in, and its 
stomachers of trees and rivers, and bosses of hills, 
and clusters of splintered peaks, and all those forms 
of minute loveliness, that extend in inexhaustible 
variety down to the petals of the tiniest flower. 
Who then shall tell the arrangement of this detail ? 

' Agreeably to the assertion of Dalton, "Each atom occupies the 
centre of a comparatively large sphere, and keeps itself separate and 
distinct from all the rest, which by their gravity or otherwise are 
disposed to encroach upon it." And elsewhere he speaks of a 
gossamer envelope surrounding every atom and keeping it distinct from 
its fellow. So we may well say in like manner that the Stars and 
the Earth, &c,, are the separate atoms that make one piece, as the 
atoms that form water make a sheet of water. 

^ TTEpi 0£ TOvTo (i.e. TO TTVp £V fiiatij) )(^opkveLV. Philol. in 
Stob. 448. 


What wonderful power could in a moment invent and 
display these cctasies of inexhaustible variety? For to 
deliberate and think out is below the dignity of a 
deity, but he must create at once, by a fiat. And 
this mystery of creation I think the admirable 
Chladni has unravelled, and in what he has taught 
us, he has but approved the teachings of Pythagoras. 
For Chladni took a plate and sprinkled some sand 
on it, and then he drew a bow across the edge 
of the plate, and produced a musical note on it. 
And immediately the sand took strange forms, but 
all of untold symmetry. And he continued to 
produce varieties of notes, and each time the sand 
leapt to new and symmetrical forms ; and in doing 
this, he demonstrated that Music was the readiest 
source of obtaining Pattern. For had he attempted 
to think out those countless novelties of form which 
I shall presently show, he must have spent I know 
not how long on each of them, and been baffled 
and come to an end at last. Yet here they were 
produced, one after another, in teeming succession by 
a turn of the hand, by benefit of that limbeck that 
contained the secret. And by this discovery of 
Chladni's I think a new development has been given 
to the teachings of Pythagoras, for in saying that 
Music gave its Form to the Universe, Pythagoras 
had expressed himself in general terms, and was only 
junderstood by a few. But now can each man 
)ecome a petty lord of creation for himself, and 
scattering Chladni's sand on a plate, he can see this 
little Chaos by his fiat become a Cosmos. For 
lirectly the musical note has sounded, all the sand 
locks to position, and arranges itself in rapturous 
Symmetry — from being sand, it has become suns and 
galaxies, What then was the potent influence that 


at once reduced the Universe to order, but Music, by 
whatever means it came (mtlvl uv rpowu) iweytviTo), 
sweeping into the entangled elements ? For since in 
that dread world of night and nothingness there was 
no precedent type of form, nor was battling discord 
to be forced bit by bit to shape, nor even thought 
was possible what that shape might be, that only 
vz's inotrix is supposable, which could at once and 
spontaneously sort the elements into pattern. 
And here are Chladni's Figures^ : — 

' These are figured from Tyndall's Sound in preference to Chladni's 
own -work, where the figuring is not so nrtistic. 



\7P ( 





So that I imagine Music's powers as the Principle 
of Form in Nature must be indefinitely extended 
beyond limits which it passes us at present even to 
conceive. Since even here, in these few pictures out 
of an endless gallery, every shape or pattern that 
the eye can see through Nature stands writ in 
mignature before us. Do I want the pattern of a 
leaf? I find it here. Would I see the track the 
rivers flowed in ? I find it here presented to my 
eye. Shall I gaze at the vaults of blue, and 
wonder what has raised those heavenly arches ? And 
here, too, doth our sweet mistress confess, that form 
was hers. Or must I know how the stars would 
twinkle, or what was to be the shape of the drops 
of dew ? — If we could practise with the Universe for 
our plate, and Worlds for our grains of sand, we 
might see some fine creation. 

And since by the incussion of Music into the 
entangled elements, the Cosmos was reduced and 
brought to order, what shall we say of that divine 
energy of the Octave, that ran through and sustained 
the great entire ? Or what was the circumambient 
outline that it set on those bulging masses ? And it 
imprinted on them the image of itself For this 
is the shape that the Octave gives to little grains of 
sand that lie on a plate,i 

1 See the figuring of the 8ve, 5th, and 4th, in W. F. Barrett's 
paper in the Quarterly Journal of Science, Jan. 1870. 


and if there were no flat surface here, but the sand 
were suspended in space, the two sides would fall 
over and join back to back, and give the image of 
a sphere, which is the shape of the worlds.^ 

And we might go on to give still further instances 
than those we have given, to show how Music is 
indeed no other than the Power of Form, as how, for 
instance, a shower of spray sweeping in a disordered 
sheet and fluff of scattering drops, will, at the pene- 
tration of a musical note into it, gather itself 
together into a thin and compact liquid vein, and 
then when the note ceases will fall to pieces in 
crowds of spray again, and then at the Music it will 
unite again ; ^ or how that element which is most 
inimical to Harmony, that is. Fire, will yet betray 

1 Cf. Empedocles in Stob.'s Eclogues, p. 354. and Parmenides in 
Arist. de Xenoph. Zenon. et Goif. p. 978. 

- See Savart's experiments detailed in Tyndall, On Sound, p. 245. 
Also particularly pp. z^^J, 248, 


the most potent sympathy, and throw itself into a 
thousand fantastic shapes beneath the influence of 
Music, great tall flames toppling over sideways and 
licking downwards, others coalescing in a long thin 
tongue at the sound of a long-drawn note, or quivering 
and twinkling at the music of a trill ; ^ or how gases 
and air, as Hydrogen and Carbonic Acid, or air 
mixed with blue smoke, will all give way and form 
themselves in shapes and patterns as music sounds, 
bell3nng in bulging clouds, spreading in thin sheets, 
twining and threading in wreaths and circles, in 
response to the power of Melody.- But from these 
minutenesses of Music's power we must pass away, 
and follow it rather in those larger motions that 
Pythagoras has set forth to us, when not fractions 
and puny strains, but all its power was put forth at 
once, to send the elements flocking to cohesion, and 
to toss systems into pattern, as we have seen it 
move its grains of sand. And all the elements fled 
out in rounded worlds into space, away from the 
central fire. And now behold them hung in the sky. 
And these are the names and orders of the bright 
squadron of which our globe is one, and these are 
their names and orders, as they stand and dance 

1 See Tynda.l's Expcii merits on Uie Vowel Flame. Sound, p. 239. 
Also on other naked flames, p. 284. Also Leconte in Tyndall. p. 230. 
" After the music comniLnced, I observed tliat the flame exhibited 
pulsations, which were exactly synchronous with tlie audible beats. 
The trills of tlie instruments were reflected on the sheet of flame. A 
deaf man might have perceived the music." He goes on to prove that 
all this was produced by the direct result of aerial sonorous pulses on 
the flame, and nothing else, 

? Tynd. p. 241. 242. 


round the central fire : ^ And first there was the 
Antichthon, or Counter-Earth, which was another 
world like ours, that moved between us and the 
central fire, and next came our Earth moving round, 
and then the Moon, and then the planets, Mercury 
and Venus, and then the Sun, all moving in concentric 
rings, and outside these the rings where Mars,, and 
Jupiter, and Saturn danced, and outside these the 
ring where the stars danced round, in which were 
many mazes, and many weavings of beautiful dances, 
yet all in time and measure with our own, and 
making up together but one more harmonious round 
in the Dance of the Planets and the Sun, that went 
circling round the central fire. And as they moved, 
these heavenly orbs, in stately saraband, they made 
celestial harmony in the air, and chief among them 
the Sun and Moon and five Planets, that were so 
nicely poised and distanced from each other, that 
they lay in the intervals of the Musical Scale ; for 
Saturn was just so far from Jupiter, and Jupiter 
from Mars, and Mars from the Sun, and the others 
in the same way, as are tone and tone and semitone 
from each other in the Scale. And Saturn moved in 
the Dorian Mode, and Jupiter in the Phrygian, and 
Mars in the Lydian, and the others in their order, 
each in its mode. This was the music that Scipio 
heard in his dream, for he dreamt that the shade of 
his ancestor, Africanus, appeared to him, and led him 
up through the immeasurable spaces, till he came all 
among the white flowers and feathers of the night. 

1 In the following arrangement I have left Philolaus, and adhered 
to the ordinary Pythagorean tradition in Pliny, Censorinus, and others, 
with, however, the Antichthon, v/hich some of them have omitted. Cf. 
Plutarch, De Placitis Philosophorum. III. 13. 



And he saw the place where the spirits of good men 
go after death, which is the Milky Way. And he 
saw the constellations in white clusters. And he 
looked downwards, and in the far distance he saw 
the earth shining like some tiny golden star. And 
between the earth and the stars he saw 7 golden 
cressets burning in the clear night airj one above the 
other. And he and his guide went floating towards 
them. And these were the Planets and the Sun and 
Moon. And as they came near them Scipio said, 
What is this heavenly harmony that fills my ears ? 
And Africanus answered him, that this was the 
Harmony of the Spheres which he heard, and he bid 
him notice how all those golden fires were moving, 
and what were the distances between each, and said 
that as they swept the air they could not but make 
ineffable music, and being seven in number, and lying 
so far apart in exact proportion with the seven notes 
of the scale, they each murmured in the Mode that lay 
where that note came. 

And this was the Harmony of the Spheres which 
he heard in his dream, to which our Earth and its 
Counter-Earth do but give an added harmony, and 
the stars a far-off and myriad accompaniment. For 
although our Earth in its passage through the air 
may well be conceived to utter most melodious music, 
yet can it in no way compare with the heavenly 
sounds that the other planets make. For the Earth, 
said Pythagoras, is not the most perfect of the 
heavenly bodies^ but on the contrary is nearer 
imperfection than any, except the Antichthon^ which 
is the Counter-Earth, that comes between us and 
the central fire. For the greater is the perfection the 
farther away from the central fire. So that the 
Earth, coming so near the central fire, has a great 

44^ History of MUsiC. 

share of imperfection. Or how can it compare to 
the Sun, whose surface is all made of glass ?^ or to 
the Moon, which is inhabited by plants and animals 
far larger and finer than those on the earth, and 
where the days and nights are fifteen times as long 
as our own P^ 

And this heavenly concert and harmony, though 
some might hear in visions and dreams, yet none 
could hear with waking ears but only Pythagoras 
himself. And he could hear it for ever in its total 
beauty, and he knew all its gradations and melodies. 
And well he might. For he had been Hermotimus, 
and his soul had soared into unknown regions of 
space, while his body lay in a trance at Clazomense. 
He had pilgrimed those starry fields^ and floated 
in ecstasy amidst the heavenly concert. And the 
memory of what he heard then, he had retained 
through future stages of the Metempsychosis. For 
that bright soul had made many wanderings, before 
it appeared in the radiant lustre of Pythagoras. And 
coming from what silver well of being we know not, 
first it had animated the hero, Euphorbus, and 
this was the first incarnation of Pythagoras. And 
Menelaus slew Euphorbus in the Trojan War, And 
the lance had pierced his soft neck, and his hair that 
was like the Graces' was all dyed with blood, and his 
curls that were tied with threads of gold and silver. 
It was like an olive with all its white flowers being 
mown down by the tempest, when Euphorbus fell. And 
this was the beautiful hero, that the soul of Pythagoras 
had first inhabited. And next it had entered 
Hermotimus, and there it heard the starry music. 

^ vaAoEfOT/C' ^ Stob.'s Eclogues. 514. 


TliE GREEKS. 447 

And next it had entered Pyrrhus, a fisherman. And 
last of all, Pythagoras. And now could it hear with 
waking ears those sounds it before had heard in 
ecstasies and visions. And Pythagoras said that the 
reason men could not hear the celestial harmony, was 
because their ears arc accustomed to it from the 
moment of their birth, and it is with this as with 
all other sounds, for sounds that we hear continualh", 
we cease to hear at all. And this well may be. For 
it is known, says Cicero, that those who dwell close to 
the cataracts of the Nile, never hear the sound of the 
water, because it is always in their ears. And it is 
certain that we miss much beautiful, if homely music in 
our everyday life, from this very cause. For he that 
has known what a temporary deafness is, will learn 
when he recovers, what is the music of footfalls, and of 
objects struck against each other. 

Now these revelations of Pythagoras became in course 
of time the subject of philosophical speculation, and 
what he revealed as ultimate phenomena, science stept 
in to explain. And indeed that the spheres should 
make harmony in their aerial motions, was congenial to 
a musical theory, which defined Sound as ' struck air ' 
(fn)p ireTrXiTYiixevog), for this is the definition of the 
handbooks. I And Nicomachus would have us believe, 
that the sound of the spheres was a whistling sound, 
such as a javelin, for example, makes, as it sings in its 
passage through the air ; and that the difference of the 
tones of each was due to the greater or less swiftness 
with which they rushed through the sky.^ But 
Macrobius would rather explain it as a series of clashes, 

^ cu)ci TT^TrXriy/xivog. ciipog TrXrjy//. Aristides. I. 7. 
^ NiGoiiiaGlius. Harmonics. I. 6. 


that blent together in one tone (which, though much 
the same to our view, was yet held a different 
explanation), and that two bodies meeting, must produce 
a clash, and these two bodies were the star and the air ; 
and since in heaven all is harmony and beauty, finely 
says Macrobius, we must conceive no discordant 
clashing there, but a most soft giving way, and dulcet 
effusion of sound..^ 

But we, again, living in modern days, may well 
regard the theory by our lights, and by benefit of 
the knowledge which since then has been added to 
our stock. And men define Sound more comprehen- 
sively now, for they say that Sound is caused by 
the vibrations of the particles of a body, which can 
move away from one another within certain limits, 
without causing the rupture of the body, and when 
they all vibrate together, that is musical sound.^ 
And shall we not say that each star is but a 
particle in one golden sheet, which is the Cosmos, 
and that their periodic motions and revolutions are 
but the regular vibrations of the particles that make 
it up, and hence a mighty Music must come ? So 
that to us, the Music of the Universe is well 

^ In coelo autem constat nihil fortuitum, nihil tumultuarium 
piovenire, &c. Macrobius in Somn. Scip. II. 2. The Heavenly Concert 

was KaraKopeg re koi iravapfioviov, says Nicomachus, p. 7. where 

we must take KUTaKopag in some such sense as " full," <' rich," 

unless it may perhaps mean " unceasmg." Cf. tyjv KaraKopetrraTr^v 

av/iKpwvlav, of the Octave, i.e. '< the fullest of the consonances." 
Nicom. p. 9. 

2 II suono e formato da vibrazioni delle particelle dei corpi. II 
corpo pub suddividersi in piccole particelle, e queste particelle si 
possono allontanare le une dalle altre entro certi limiti, senza che per cio 
si operi la rottura o il disgregamento del corpo. Blaserna. La teoria 
del suono. p. 3. 


conceived as Periodicity, and this is the account that 
we will give of it. But to those who tell us, as 
some do, that there is no air in those heavenly- 
spaces to echo the music, but only blank vacuum, 
nor any air at all, but what constitutes the separate 
atmospheres of the stars themselves, and each carries 
round with it in its diurnal motions, we Avill say 
that we have but to apply in little what we have 
said of the Universe at large, and still we have our 
music. For in that symmetrical rotation of each 
heavenly orb round its poles, where there is no 
denying the envelope of air that encrusts and wraps 
it in, each particle of the great body must be in 
regular vibration, for each works to the common end, 
of which the rotation of the whole globe is the 
result. So that each world makes music for itself, 
with full complement of repeating air, and this music, 
I say, may we ourselves hear. For what are the 
sighings of the winds but the pianos of this music, 
and the notes of the cataract its louder passages ? 
And what are our concerts and symphonic choruses, 
but the clusterings of harmonious atoms in this great 
globe of ours, that breathe together for a time their 
little fragment of its harmony, yet we in our greatness 
imagine ourselves mighty music-makers ? Or what 
are musical instruments but the sensitive parts of the 
great earth's melody, and we, who make them, 
unconscious builders, like the coral insect that makes 
reefs and coral caves, and so we spread the earth 
with a musical trellis ? And there is the music of 
Fire, and the music of Water, for flames are shown 
to sing in the lamp of the chemist,^ and vapour will 

1 Professor Tyndall can produce all the notes of the gamut froin 
one flam?. See Tynd, Soynd. p. 221. 

G G 


utter melodious notes, as it condenses in the stern of 
a thermometer.! What melody then will the heat of 
the day make, if we had but the wit to hear it, or 
the great masses of vapour as they condense into 
rain ? And shall we not say that birds, who sing as 
unconsciously as the breezes play, or the leaves flutter 
down from the trees — what are they but the 
Harmonics of Nature, which expresses her strength 
through the gnarled oak and the iron, her fleetness 
through the horse, but when she would utter her 
blithest singing she pours it out through feathered 
flutes. For when Hermes has slain Argus with 
the hundred eyes, which is the night and all 
its stars, and sweeps the strings of Apollo's lyre 
and sets them trembling — then does the music 
of Nature begin. And first the lark takes up 
her carol in the air, and this is the morning speaking. 
And next the throstle and the other birds come 
chiming in, in most melodious chorus, and so the 
morning passes. And with the midday heat the 
insects take up their tale, and go humming in many 
notes through the air, and the grasshoppers chirping 
most melodiously, or in warmer climes, those humming- 
birds, that make a beautiful music by the vibration of 
their wings. And meanwhile all the trees are sighing 
and the grass waving, for the breezes go rustling in and 
out, and setting them all in motion. And then at 
evening the voices of the night begin, and chief among 
them the nightingale, who sits and sings beneath the 
light of the moon. \yho that has heard this bird in 
the silence of midnight, when the very labourer sleeps 

^ De la Rive showed that Musical Notes of great power and 
Sweetness could be produced by the periodic condensation of vapour 
in the bulb of a glass tube. Tynd. Soi;nd, p. 225, 



securely, has not heard with rapture her clear airs, 
sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the 
doubling and redoubling of her voice, and well may fancy 
to himself how small and poor a residue of nature's 
harmony is that which we have got in keeping ? And 
there was a man who passed through the concert-room 
of Nature, with an ear not inattentive to its harmonies. 
And he was a poor stocking-weaver of Leicester, and 
passed what time he had, in wandering in the country 
and the woods, and listening to the music that they 
had to give him. He knew what notes the linnet 
sings on, and what is the harmony that the cricket 
chirps. The love songs of the wood pigeon he could 
tell you, or how the owl hoots at night. These were 
his petty orchestra and most delightful singers, and he 
has written down the Avhole concert of the groves, and 
he tells us that this is their chorus : — 

-^-^tt m — 






— F • 

■ t 


The LarkP' 


— t^ ^■ 

_p:-^r-r-- -^F — ^ — n 

1 Gardiner's Music of Nature, p. 59. 

2 Gardiner. Music of Nature, p. 454. 


P- 233- 



TJie Robin Redbreast?- 






The Nightingale.'^ 





-I -I jj ^:f-^- 

The Peewit? 







•^nin 4 


The Sparroiv: 


-^t2=^=" t2=^=t2:=^= — 12— -^ J 

71^^ Blackbird.^ 






— y^ ' 

TJie Woodpigeon.^ 
tr tr 




1 Id. p. 140. 
3 Id. p. 236. 

5 Id. 237. 

- Id. p. 226. 
* Id. p. 344. 
•5 Id, 140. 



The Canary. 

•i-f— -m-~ -*-l— -H -H -I- -I i- H- -I- -I 1- -+- -r- -^ j- -H H- -t— 






which Is the Bass of birds. 

And the insects also he has not failed to report 

The Cricket? 





Q Q _ 

-I.SH— , 

The Gnat.^ 







27^^ /^/^.' 


1 Id. 22". 2 Gardiner. Music of Nature, p. 228. 

^ Id. p. 250. * Id. p. 249. 

5 Id. 248.. Porphyry is the ancient who has come most near this 
admirable interest in minute nature. See his remarks on the voices of 


And these notes of the fly Hke those of the gnat are 
produced by the vibrations of the wings, and the wings 
of the fly make 320 vibrations every second, that is, 
20,000 in a minute. 

These are the trembhng little atomies whose vibrations 
are sympathetic to our ears, for not all vibrations are 
perceptible to our dull ears, but only up to such and 
such a height and down to such a depth, and these 
are some that fall between. What then should we say 
if our hearing were divinely extended, that we could 
hear the whole sum and possibility of vibration ? We 
then might hear the melody of the mighty mass 
itself, in which every single atom is in regular 
vibration, in harmony with the motion of the great 
whole as it swings along the sky. So that in such 
things as we hear, we have only the dregs and 
snatches of that moving melody, as he who sees the 
reflection of the moon in a fountain, though not 
even then clearly and steadily, because the shaking of 
the water makes the light flicker. But that other 
ineffable harmony, which is the Harmony of the 
Cosmos, whose sounding atoms are worlds, and 
revolutions its vibrations, this comes not in any guise to 
our ears at all, but may only be heard by those spirits 
or daemons that sail between Earth and Heaven, or by 
such a beautiful being as Pythagoras, who was almost 
one of them. For he held constant communion with 
the spirits of the air. He came riding on an arrow of 

grasshoppers and nightingales in his Commentary on Ptolem)'. III. 
More commonly it took the form of professing to understand their 
language as Apollonius Tyaneus who understood the language of 
swallows ; the Arabians who were commonly reported in antiquity to 
understand the language of crows ; and the Tyrrhenians of eagles, in 
like manner. And perhaps we all might understand the language 
of birds, if we only had a dragon to lick out our ears. 


the Hyperborean Apollo, which is a morning sunbeam 
He could write with letters of blood on a looking-glass, 
and show his writing reflected in the moon. He 
appeared on the same day at Metapontum and Crotona, 
which is a distance of 90 miles as the crow flies ; and 
no one knew how he travelled. He showed himself at 
the Olympic games with a golden thigh, and rivers and 
trees knew him and held converse with him, as that 
river Cosa in Sicily, which lifted up its voice as he 
was passing over it, and said, Hail ! Pythagoras. 
These and other wonders are recorded of him, as they 
have been of other divine beings, that have from time 
to time appeared among us, and made known to us the 
secret mysteries of existence. 


THE GREEKS {continued). 

And now we may go to Athens. And how shall 
we enter that great and stately city ? And shall we 
enter it by the Northern Road that ran as far as 
Thebes, past Acharnae, and so on over the Cephissus, 
and in at the Acharnian gate to the north of the 
city ? Or shall we enter it by the Sacred Way, where 
the processions went down to Eleusis (and marble 
monuments lined the Way as it came near Athens), 
through the Ceramicus, and in by the market-place, 
past the Poecile Stoa on our way to the Acropolis? 
or turning round at the same gate, without going so 
far, and re-tracing our steps a little, we should soon 
have come to the groves of the Academy, where we 
might have heard Plato discoursing on the Nature of 
our Music, which, like Pythagoras, he held to be the 
best stimulant to Virtue, And he said that Education 
in Music was the most important of all educations, 
because Rhythm and Harmony sank so deep into the 
soul, and touched it most strongly, carrying grace and 
elegance in their train, and making the man graceful 
and elegant who received them.^ And its effect did not 
end here, but rwv TrapaXHTrojuivtov koX /n) KaXiog Sriiuiovp- 
jnOhriov — in all things would he find his Music help 

1 Plato. Rep. p. 401. 


him, for in all works of art or works of nature, his 
Harmony would enable him to see their Harmony, his 
Rhythm their Rhythm, so slurring over their discords 
and false notes he would praise only their excellencies 
and beauties, and even make a diet of them for his soul 
to feed on, and in this way he would become beautiful 
and excellent himself And his Music being instilled 
into him when he is quite young, he is unable to see 
the why and the wherefore of the tastes that govern 
him, but when he grows up and true Reason comes, 
then he will embrace her for ever, from that secret 
sympathy with all that is good and beautiful, which 
this training in Music has engrafted in him.^ And 
Plato held but two essentials in a perfect education, 
Gymnastic for the body, and Music for the mind,^ and 
both are things calculated to produce symmetry and 
grace. For Gymnastic produces symmetry of motion,' 
and Music produces symmetry of conception. And let 
us ask more nearly how Music produces symmetry of 
conception. And it produces it by fashioning the mind 
into sympathy with its own essence. For in the first 
place the essence of Music is the power of Form. And 
secondly, its composition is that of a Dualism, and 
wherever the image of this composition is imprinted, 
there necessarily must symmetry ensue ; for symmetry 
is but another term for evenness, or equality, which 
means the balance of two things. And a mind that 
has been musically educated will betray this secret 
dualism, as the principle of all its motions. And a 
Musical Mind is one that proceeds by dichotomy to 
its conclusions, or it is one that gains its results by 
comparison, and in this latter case we may see how the 

1 Plat. Rep. p. 401. - Plat. Rep. p. 376. Cf. Laws. p. 


45^ History of music, 

eternal liaison between Music and Poetry has arisen. 
And it is also a tolerant mind, because it can see both 
sides in every question, whence " 2 " was used by the 
Pythagoreans as the symbol of tolerance, and whence 
also musical epochs have always been tolerant epochs. 
And for a similar reason they have also been pacific 
and peaceful epochs, and also for that other reason, 
that the secret principle of Music, which unites 
dualisms, is the principle of Love. And for the 
latter reason they have been credulous epochs, 
because credulity is the flower of love, but scep- 
ticism is the offspring of hate. And all these 
characteristics and qualities will a musical mind evince, 
than which nothing nobler can be imagined. And 
although Plato has not descended to particular 
specification of the results which Music produced on 
the mind, but has confined himself to a general 
description of its influence, yet I think we may 
clearly discern from things he says, that many of 
these results were what he directly looked for. For 
as one of the chief results of Music he holds to be 
simplicity of character,^ which is this very noble 
credulity that we speak of. And as Love he conceives 
another, since sympathy is but another term for love, 
and it is sympathy for beauty and virtue which he 
looks to Music to awaken in the soul. And gentleness 
he directly intends as another result, for it was by 
music that he would temper the hardness of gymnastic, 
the exclusive pursuit of which could only render the 
character wild and stubborn, so that he has said 
somewhere, " the man that mixes music and 

^ ev{]9iia in the good sense. 


gymnastic, and offers it in best proportions to the 
soul, he is a finer musician and knows more of 
harmony, than any one who ever twanged a string." 
But not to press any of his doctrines, which we 
have said are rather general than specific in their 
application, let us ask why it is that he has laid 
such stress on Music in his system of Education, 
And first, I think, there was one reason which has 
escaped himself For in that aSoXecrxia of Athenian 
life, which we can scarcely picture to ourselves now, 
that life of the Agora and Gymnasiums, the life of 
men who live at ease, with few books to read, and 
little care for writing, but every subject was studied 
by word of mouth, systems of philosophy could be 
developed in conversation alone, and all the wit and 
genius of the time was poured through the medium 
of speech — I say, in such a life as this, what a 
pre-eminence does the Voice achieve ! and what more 
telling than a musical voice and a beautiful delivery ! 
This would have a magic beyond any charms of 
thought, and we cannot doubt that the possession of 
a beautiful voice would always be envied, and that 
the cultivation of music was an unconscious means 
that was taken to produce it. So that this is one 
reason it seems of the eminence of Music in Greek 
Education, the acquisition of a Musical delivery, and 
this was so unconsciously acted on that it escaped 
Plato himself But the second reason did not escape 
him. For quite as important, or nearly so, as a 
musical delivery, was a graceful and becoming action 
of the body. And this is one of the results he 
directly looked for, from the cultivation of Music. 
For " Grace and awkwardness," he says, " are the 
infallible accompaniments of rhythm and want of 


rhythm." ^ And with this embodiment of Music in 
Actions, we may well compare Pythagoras' doctrine of 
SYNAPMOPA, or Savoir faire, which he held as the 
certain result of a knowledge of harmony. And if 
we go a little further, we shall find Plato completely 
at one with him. " Por let the masters of the lyre," 
he said, " who teach our boys, take especial care to 
familiarise the souls of the boys with rhythms and 
harmonies, for by so doing they will make them 
gentle, and rhythmic, and consistent. For every 
particle of human life has need of rhythm and 
harmony." 2 And now the immediate result of this on 
the boys was to produce in them an instinctive 
knowledge of Etiquette, " for boys so trained," he 
says, " will know when to be quiet in presence of 
their elders, when to get up and sit down according 
to the rules of etiquette ; they will know the respect 
they must pay their parents ; and in smaller things 
also they will be equally adept, as, for instance, in 
the fashion of cutting their hair, what clothes to 
wear, and what style of shoes to have, and they 
will be versed in all the mysteries of the toilette." 3 
And this, I imagine, is but the detailed exposition 
of the general principle which he lays down elsewhere, 
" Music naturally shades off into the love of beauty," ^ 

^ oAAa Tooi. yt OTL TO TriQ iv(t')(Ti]fxoavvr\Q T£ KO( d(y^r]fioavvr\g 

rtt» ^vpvuiLKi) 7"£ (cat dppvOixu) ukoXovOh dvvacrai cieXiaoat. 
Rep. 400. 

3 Plat. p. 326. TTclQ yap 6 (5loq tov dvBpojTtov eiipvOjuia^ 
T£ Kttt evapjuoryTiag dntaL ' evapfx. perhaps " order " but see the whole 

3 Rep. 42S. 

4 SeT Be TTOV TeXeDrav ra ixovatm elg ra tov kaXov IpojtiKa, 
lb. 403. 



SO that they are no fanciful assumptions he is here 
giving us, but merely the natural conclusions of that 
great truth, that a beautiful soul will evince its 
beauty in the smallest things no less than in the 

And let us turn for a moment from Plato to 
those Athenian boys themselves, and see how far 
they bear out the truth of his theories : whose 
education in music commenced when they were seven 
years old, and sometimes before ; and then they were 
taught to play the lyre, and afterwards instructed in 
the principles of versification, and required to commit 
long passages of Homer and Hesiod to memory.^ 
And meanwhile their bodies were developed in the 
exercise of Dancing, of which there were two kinds. 
Musical Dancing, in which they represented the 
actions of Musical recitation, and Calisthenics, which 
was designed to produce beauty of body, lightness of 
motion, and suppleness in their limbs.^ And they 
were dressed in garments made of wool, that reached 
to the knees, not unlike our kilts, and their arms also 
were bare, and the dress was fastened at the shoulder 
with golden studs. And let us hear that description 
of the boy in Lucian : For he rises early in the 
morning, and gets the bed off with a bath of pure 
cold water, and then he wraps his cloak round his 
shoulders, and sallies out from the house, holding his 
head down like a girl, and not daring to look any 
one in the face that meets him. And behind him 
come his slaves, with books and writing tablets, or, 
if he is going to the music school, they carry a 

1 See the account in Hase's Griechische Alterthumskunde. 
^ Plato's Laws. p. 795. 


well-tuned lyre.^ And when he has carefully exercised 
his mind in studies during the morning, he betakes 
himself to the Palaestra, and under the mid-day sun 
he wrestles in the ring, subjugating and subduing his 
youth in the heat and dust, like some young colt. 
Or if we would follow him to these wrestling-rings, 
we shall get a nearer view ; for there the boys 
wrestled naked, and crowds of philosophers and 
rhetoricians are walking in the piazzas that surround 
the wrestling-ring.2 And there are few but will 
admire the beauty of the boys. And now it is the 
rhythm of the shoulders, or now the spread of the 
loins, or the dimple in the hips, that you might 
almost say was laughing, or the tapering of the 
thighs and the calf.^ Such was the excellence of 
their training, that they were symmetry incarnate. 

Such were the Athenian boys that Plato saw daily 
around him, whose education in Music, agreeably to the 
laws of Solon, began in their earliest years, and was 
conducted, as we have said, in two branches. Playing 
and Singing, and Dancing, the first designed to beautify 
the mind, and the second to perfect the body, as we 
have said. And finding such admirable specimens of 

^ opOpiog dvaarag, &c., the passage is in Lucian's Erotics. Cf. 

the boys in Aristophanes HTa /3a§t^ev Iv raiaiv o^olg evrOLKTCog 

HQ Kidapiarov &c. Also the description in ^lius Aristides his nth 

■- Cf. the passage in Plutarch's Erotics. IV. TTcpt yvfxvdma Koi 
rraXaicTTpag &C. 

^ oar} filv tCjv jx^Ta^giviov ^vgvdfiia, irwg a^^tAa^eic 
at Xayoveg, tu)v Se rote Icrx^ioig lacppayicFfxiviov tvttwv ouk 
uv HTTOi rig Mg ricvg 6 jiXwg ; juypov re Ka\ Kvi^fxrig ett 
ivOv Ti^rajxivng d\p\ iro^og rjKpifSwfXiVOi pvdfxoi, &c. Lucian's 


this training around him, he could imagine no better 
definition of a finished education, than to say it 
consisted in Good Singing and Good Dancing^ — and 
these words must be taken in their most extended 
application ; and Good Singing will imply good 
speaking, that is, clear intonation and beautiful 
pronunciation, and it is the aesthetic aspect of Rhetoric ; 
and Good Dancing will imply graceful carriage, and easy 
attitudes, and courtly behaviour. This being the goal of 
Solon's education, and thus approved by Plato, we must 
say that the Greek education was based on a spectacular 
view of life. And this is why we shall ever fail co 
understand it, until some such era in history shall 
arrive again, when a similar view will prevail, for at 
present we are utterly destitute of this conception ; and 
cleverness is too often tolerated in company with 
boorish ness and rusticity, nor is the latter in any way 
thought to derogate from the former. 

But over and above this general musical training 
which all in Athens received, there was a more 
specific training, which, though we receive our accounts 
of it from later times, was doubtless in vogue in no 
very different form at the time we are writing of ; 
and this was the training which was designed for 
those who would make Music their profession. And 
this was the training which such men as Damon and 
others would receive, and this we must now briefly 
sketch out. And a technically Musical Education had 
then, as it has now, its two parts, the Theoretical 
part, and the Practical part. And the Theoretical 
part was divided into two great branches. Physics 
and ^Esthetics ; and the Physics comprehended 

Plato, p. 654. 



Arithmetic, and what we may call Musical Physics, 
which was the science that treated of the Nature 
of Music, and the ^Esthetics was comprised in the 
three divisions of Harmony, Rhythm, and Metre, 
and, I imagine, limited to the aesthetic study of these 
three things, or, to use the Greek term, the Ethos 
of Harmony and Melody (for Melody is included in 
this term ' Harmony '), the Ethos of Rhythm, that is, 
of Phrasing, and the Ethos of Metre, that is, of 
Barring. And these formed the Theoretical Part of 
a Musical Education. And the Practical Part fell, 
like the Theoretical, into two great branches, the first, 
Composition, the second. Execution. And the study 
of Composition had its three divisions of Melopoeia, 
Rhythmopoeia, and Poeesis, or Composition of Melody, 
Composition of Rhythm, and Versification ; and 
Execution, its three divisions of Playing, Singing, and 
Dramatic Action. And all these various branches are 
generally represented in a concise table, which, 
following the example of other writers, we shall here 
give : — 




dpi9lHr]TlK0V (pVdlKOV apjUOVlKOV pyB/iilKOV fUTpiKOV 




fxiKoTroua pvd/.ioTroua iroirjaig opyaviKOv io^lkov viroKpiTiKov 

1 Aristides QuintiUanus, I. p. 78. 


There is a curious relic come down to us, which we 
may well view in connection with the above, and that is 
a Musical Catechism, in which we must admire not 
only the conciseness and completeness of the information, 
but also the excellence of the definitions, which seem 
far to surpass those we use at the present day, for we 
meet with such definitions as this : — 

Questioft. What is a note ? 

Anszver. The settling of a melodious voice on one 
pitch. For unity of pitch makes the note. 

Q. What is an Interval ? 

A. The difference of two sounds of unlike height 
and depth. 

Q. What is a Tone ? 

A. The distance by which a 5th exceeds a 4th.i 

which last, it must be confessed, is most admirable. 

This elaborate scheme then, as I say, represents 
the studies which every one was required to make, if 
he would appear in the ranks of professional musicians, 
and doubtless not only Damon, and Lamprocles, and 
Draco, but also such men as ^Eschylus and others 
could have pointed to that thorough and extensive 
knowledge of their art, which such a scheme implies. 
For this is what distinguished the /xova-LKog from the 
juovarovpyoQ ; the novcriKog was the cultivated and studied 
scholar, versed in the science no less than in the practice 
of his art, and also in those kindred sciences which 
went in union with it, as Arithmetic and Musical 
Physics, which latter must have included a resume, if 
nothing more, of the Pythagorean tenets, since Damon 
was confessedly a profound Pythagorean ; Pythocleides, 

1 Bacchius Senior, Eisagoge. p. i. sq. 


also, and others, if we had only fuller information, we 
should doubtless find the same. And this, I say, was 
the uxovmKoc ', while the fiovcrovpyoQ was the mere 
player or singer, whose knowledge went no further 
than how to twang a string or perform a roulade,^ 
and who, though he certainly existed in Greek life, 
was as certainly a rarity, and was held a pitiful 
fellow, and unworthy the art he professed. And these 
fiovtrovpyoi were the virtuosos, whom Aristotle calls the 
Cheap Jacks of Music,^ and Plato would banish from 
his Ideal Commonwealth. For what is easier than to 
sit dandling a musical instrument all day long, or 
what is more trivial than to limit one's interest in 
Music to that most elementary of her roks, which all 
true musicians can almost do by nature? And it was 
not till the decline and decay of Greece that virtuosos 
attained a prominence, and meantime they are far in 
the shade. For we must conceive Music, as I say, 
no pursuit in the hands of a chosen few, and they 
the worst exponents of her powers, but rather the 
common property of all, and bathing in a silver flood 
the whole life of the time. And what was the 
ordinary musical education agreeably to the laws of 
Solon, we have already given ; and this, I say, every 
Athenian from his boyhood received ; and even so 
early as the Persian Wars it was said by strangers 
and visitors to Athens, " Every man there is a 
musician." 3 And I do not doubt that it is to this 
wide-spread cultivation of Music at Athens that we 
owe that royal brood of poets and philosophers, who 

1 As Heliodorus says of Thisbe — she was ixovaovpyiav dpiarr]. 
II. 24. 

2 ^dvavaoi. Aiistotle's Politics, VIIL 7. 

3 Athenaeus, 


began about that time, and have since been the envy 
and models of the world. For not only does Music 
produce gracefulness of expression, but also clearness 
of thinking ; for teaching the mind to proceed 
agreeably to its own essence, that is to say, always 
to think by Contrasts, it rids it of all entanglement 
of idea, and serves, so to speak, as an ^Esthetic 
Logic, and besides imbues it with the power of 
Form, which may well be defined as the power to 
unite contradictories. I 
yC And the Athenians were so confessedly musicians, 
that they must needs wear an emblem of music as 
the regular part of their daily dress. [For within the 
memory of Thucydides, at least, it was the custom to 
wear a golden grasshopper in the hair, as women 
wear a pin or clasp to-day,^ and the grasshopper 
with the Greeks answered to what the canary does 
with us, and grasshoppers were kept in cages as we 
keep singing-birds, and the grasshopper passed into a 
pretty emblem of Music ; for was it not a grass- 
hopper that, when Terpander was playing the Lyre 
in a musical contest at Sparta, and one of his 
strings snapt, and there seemed a danger of his 
losing the prize in consequence, the story goes that a 
grasshopper came and perched itself in the place of the 
broken string, and filled up the vacant note with its 
warbling.3 p,.JSo the grasshopper passed into a pretty 

1 Cf. the P) thagorean definition of Haimony— Evavrtwv avvapiuoyri, 
/cat Twv TToXXwv svwcng, icai rwv St;\;o^povouvrwv crii/xi^povrjo-t?. 

In Theon of Smyrna's Arithmetic. I. 

2 Thougli the writer does not wisli to press tliis musical innuendo 

in the tsttii^, it was certainly understood as such by some Greek 
writers. See Hase's account in his Griechische Alterthumskunde. 

3 Clemens tells this story about Eunomus, 


emblem of Music, and the Athenians wore golden 
grasshoppers in their hair. And if we would extend 
our view of Music at Athens, we must not forget 
those constant and continual processions and pageants, 
in which the fairest and the noblest of the city took 
a part, lyres playing, beautiful voices singing, flowing 
garments of graceful girls, and stately music incarnate 
in the deploying and sweeping of the procession to 
the temples of the gods, or those dances in honour 
of Athena, or the Trophy dance, or Dance of Victory, 
that was danced by a chorus of naked boys, of 
whom once Sophocles was one ; for he led this dance 
after the battle of Salamis, dancing naked, and 
striking the lyre as he danced. And then there is 
much to tell about the nightly music of the banquets, 
and how the lyre was passed round from hand to 
hand, each rivalling the other in the excellence of 
his style ; or the songs of the children, of which a 
petty literature exists, and how on the first day of 
spring, when the swallow had made its appearance 
in Attica, coming back from warmer climes across 
the sea, troops of children would go from house to 
house, with a captured swallow in their hands, and 
sing the Swallow Song, 

^XO' rjXde \e\i^(jJv, 
KoXag (tipag ayovaa, 
KoXoiig iviavTOvg. 

The Swallow, the Swallow has come, 

And now we shall have fine weather. 

Its breast is white, 

And its back as black as jet. 

So throw us a fig-cake, 

For you have plenty, we know, 

Or send us a cup of wine out, 

Or a piece of cheese, 


And the swallow will not refuse a crumb or two, 

Or a spoonful of pulse, if you can spare it. 

Are we to go away empty-handed ? 

If you give us something, well and good. 

But if you do not, listen what we will do. 

We will carry off your door from its hinges, 

Or the lintel on top of it, 

Or, what is worse, come in and carry off your wife ; 

She is a little woman, and we shall easily do it. 

But if you only give us something, you shall have good luck. 

So open the door, open the door to the Swallow ; 

For we are not old men out here, but little children. 

And where are the melodies that filled the clear 
air of Athens in this heyday of Music ? From the 
lisping songs of children to those noble and majestic 
songs of youths and men, the extemporised strains of 
the evening banquet, and careful and artistic melodies 
of musicians and poets ; they are all perished like its 
glory has. For it should seem that of all forms of 
beauty, most perishable are beautiful sounds. And as 
words will remain in the memory long after the tones 
they are uttered in have been forgotten, so it is 
in the goings on of history. Inscriptions cut in 
stone endure from the days of Egypt ; sounds, that 
have an affinity with breezes, will scarce fetch a 
century's antiquity. Time, that has spared the treatise 
of Aristides, has wafted away the melodies of Sappho. 
It would be well indeed if Music had shared even 
the common privilege of other Arts in Greece, and 
had been preserved to us through Roman copies. 
For we may study the art of Agesander in the 
reproduction of Hadrian's time, and the Venus de' 
Medici is so perfect a copy, that it has served to 
educate the modern world in the canons of Greek 
Sculpture. But in Music we are unfairly treated, and 


not even copies remain of those divine originals, 
which, if report says true, must have as far exceeded 
the best products of Sculpture and Painting, as Homer 
stands above the best masters of any human art. 
Yet three fragments remain from the Roman period, 
and the first is from a Hymn to the Muse by 
Dionysius, who was a poet of the Greek Revival under 
Hadrian, and the second a Hymn to Apollo by the 
same, and the third a Hymn to Nemesis by the poet 
Mesomedes, who was probably a contemporary of 
Dionysius, but whose date we do not certainly know. 
And these fragments we must now give, not, I 
imagine, to put them forward as in any way samples 
of the Greek music at its best, or even its second 
best period, but rather to show by them the style 
and look of the music, for such things as this 
remained long after the vital spirit of it had passed 
away. And it will be seen that the Melody of these 
songs is in the Bass, as we have before remarked, 
and we may be allowed to set a lyre accompaniment 
above, in order to show this more clearly, and we will 
use only those intervals that are warranted by the 
handbooks, or in Plutarch his account of the accom- 
paniment of Archilochus. 

And first we will give the Hymn to the Muse. 

Aiovvcriov Hg Movaav ' "lafi^og /3aicT^£toc. 






-^ — ^- 

gg^;^EJ ^;==^^E^^ rE^EpE^g 

a - H ' ce fxov 










:i«r— J: 

~^ simile. 





,-^_l — g> — --1 



tu-pi} §£ (Twv ott' aX-ak-biv £ - /xa? (ppe-vag 












■^ — ^ 

So - vd-Tw. KaX - Xt - o - TTEt - a cro - 0a, /xou 



-^ -I*. 






(Twv 7rpo-Ka - c/a - y^n TspTr - vojv /cat uo - ^e 

/?'7 ..-, r " r— 1 iss^ "H- 

ss-^ U— 1^- -1 1 1 -!!- — : U-^- 

fiva ' TO- ^6 - TU Aa - tovg yove A77 - Xi - £ 










Hat - av 

ev-jUB - vug Trap 



£(7 - T£ /^tOJ. 

1 For the additions to the style of accompaniment mentioned under 
Archilochns, the best authority is the passage in Plato : — Kat 
TTVKVOTTjra juavoTrjTL KoX ra^og (ipa^vri]Ti koX o^vrnra papvrriTi 
avfxcpojvov KoX dvTi(p(jovov Trapexofxivovg Kat rwv pvufxcov. 
McravTwr TroLKiXfxaTa &c. (Laws. VII. 812.) 

In allusion to what we observed a few pages back about the archi- 
tectural character of music's development, we may be allowed to write 
the above hymn with modern harmony, as under : — 

I — I ^^ ^^- 


1 >--^: 

.J^^ — ^^ 

-^I3j ^ 





r»«i r^«*i 

A ^- 


«— — «— y— «~— — — 





And as it stands in the Greek Manuscript this is 
written : — (for the musical notes were written in letters 
of the alphabet by the Greeks, as we have said 
before) — 

<T Z Z (j) (j) a a 
"AetSf fxovcia juoi ^t'Xrj 

airov^ t M M 

/JLoXirrig ^'Ifirjg (carap^^ou. 

Z Z Z E Z Z i i 
avpt} o£ <T(t)v ctTr' aXcrtdiv 

MZN 'i<p<r p M(p (T 
ifiag (ppivag Soveirw. 

I 1 J 










,kp— I.. 




1 The word 'S'TTOV has never been noticed by commentators, or else 
has been treated as a corrupt reading. It is plain that it is for 
ffTTOVoeiacrinog, and denotes the exhibition of the Enharmonic dieses, 
as noted in the musical rendering. 


(J p 


P (T 

<j> p 



(^ N (T 

(7 (7 (T Z 

/3 </, 





(j) (7 p M i M 


(TO(j)£ pvnTocora 


E Z T Up 

a M t 


yove AT/Xte 




M ^ 0- 





And the next one, which is the Hymn to Apollo, is 
written as follows : — 

"YfxvoQ HQ 'A—oXXwva. 

(J a (T <j i ly pa (^ a 

Xiovol3\e(j)apov irdrep aovg^ 

0MMMM (T (j) M rM 
poboeaaav og avrvya irwXwv 

M l M p M z r Z 
TrravoTc wtt' 'L\ve(TaL ditjJKHg 

M Z M Z i M i M Z ■/ 

-^pvaiaiaiv ajaXXofii^vog Kopaig^ 

M i Z "t M i p(j)<T P P (^ 
TTEpl vwTOV aiTHpaTOV ovpavov 

(T pM M M M M M M i M 
ctKrlva 7roXv(TTpo(l>ov apirXiKwv 

Bellermann's emendation. - Bellennann's emendation. 


i M p M i Z M 

p a 

aiyXag TroXvSEp/cta 



a p MM Mo-j3 (j) MM 
TTEpi yaXav airacrav kXiaaMV 

M t Z Z Z Z Z Z E f E Z 
TTOTafiol oe (TEuev Trvpog ajufiporov 

pM t ZZi M d (J 
TLKTOvcnv airripaTov afiepav' 

a <l> (J p MMM p p (T 
(701 fxev \opoQ svcLog aarepiov 

M i MM •(• p M t Z Z 
Kar oXvfXTTOv avaicTa xopevti 

averov piXog altv adcwv 

M i ZZ M l p (ji Z Z 
$ot/3rjtSi TspTTOfxevog Xvpa ' 

ff pM MMcre MMtTM 
yXavm Si Trapoire a^Xdva 

i Mi MM p M t Z Z 
\p6vov (bpiov ayefiovevei 

MiZ L Ml (p a p Mp(7 
AeuKwv vTTo avpjjLaaL fx6a\h)v' 

a a G <j cr a pa p (f) pM 
Tdwrai §£ re ot voog IvfXiv^c 

M t Z t M L<1, (T p M p (T 

iroXvoifiova koct/wv kXiaawv 


which in modern notation becomes : — 


Xl - ov - o - I5\s-(pa - pov Trarep a - ovq po - Bo 



Eor-trav oc; av- tv- ya ttw 









V£(r - (Tt 01 - w - (CEtc T^jou - aiaicnv a. - yaXXo/xe- 



voc KO-f-iag 


V(jjT-ov a - 7781 - parov 







ov-pavov iiK - tIvu tto - XvaTpo(pov cifXTrXeKwv 


-^— . 

'^— f— ^1 * — hz- -t H, 







aiy-Xac TTO-Xv-Ssp - ic£-a Tra-yav Trepi yatav a 

:^.i: *_.? 1 I U — K — ! — f: — 1 Z- — Z—. 

i. - \i 

\ ^v _/ 

7ra<T-av t - Ai<jao)v ttotu - fxoi ot (Tt- aev irvpoQ 






a/ij3- po7 

Tf/c-roufTiv aTT - j; " pa-rov a/aep'av 




(TOt fxev X'^P^^ evdi-og 





-^— ^ 


va/c-ra ;^o - ptwei" 


av£ - rov jUiAog ai-iv a - tidu)v 





^OL - j3rjt - St Tspivofx^ - vor Xvpa. yXav - Kii St vrap- 





of-re ere - Xa - va ^^povov wpiov ayt-jxo - vevei 

h:-#^^=fr:^rq— -^::,^3^^:^;H-^-^q-^-^-^^-^-p-^5 

A£V-Kt5v VTT-b avpjuacn ^oc^^wv yavvr-ai Se re ot voof 



£v - fxe-vrig ttoXv - oi-jmova Koa-fxov k - Xia-au)v. 
And this is the Hymn to Nemesis : — 

"Y/uvog dg Ne/zeo-tv. 


Ne/xe - (Tt 7rr£|0-o - eaaa /3t - ov po-Tta 

-^— P— P 




:^-^-r :5=^£U 


Kv - a 

.0L. .ft. .m- 

vw- TTf ds - a dvy- a - Tip ^i-Kag a KOixpa (jtpv 



:^:^ -f; 


tt'yfiara uva-Tiov ^rr-e-xug 


-I ^— F-i— F — P - 


fiav-Ti ;^a - Xtvti) 

E^^-^ovo-a o V - j3|0tv oXo - av [ipOTiov /xiXav - a (pdovov 




fK-roc" £ - Xaiiveig v-tto (TOVTpo)(ov aararov a -<tti- j3?) 
^OjOO - 7ra fispoTTiov otjOe^e - rai rv\a A/j - Oovaa Se 







TTOp TTOoa pai-vHg yav-povju^vov av^Eva KXiveig 




UTTO 7rr/ - xw a - a 

/3t - o 

TOV fXBTpiLg, 





V£V-a? S'v- TTO KoXtTOV 6(p-pVV KCL-Th) Z^V-yOV fXiTO, 




"Xii^ci Kpa - Tovcra. t - Aa - 9i fia - /cat - pa 6t- 

^ From here the text follows the Neapolitan MS. Up till here 
the Florentine Edition has been followed in Galilei's Dialogo della 
Musica p. 97. The Hymn in GalUei ends with this line. 











KaaTToXe, Nfjwe - at Trrepo - ecraa j3i - ou joo - ird. 




Nf/i£ - (T(V 0£OV dcOjUiV 

VI - Krjv ravu- 


J -b* — b*--. 

-^. -^. ^. .,e. 

^— fc^--5- 





g-tTrrtpov 6ju/3pt/xav vrj - ^uep - rea Kal Trape- 





^pov AtKOv a rav /ley-a - Xavop - i - av |3porwv 



vf/ie - (TOJcra (pe 

pete Kara raprapov. 

And these wear on the face of them a look of 
the decline of the Art, for there is none of that 
rich play with rhythms, which was one of the leading 
characteristics of the Greek Music, nor is there any use 
of the Enharmonic dieses, except in one instance all 
through, nor is it at all decided what Mode they are 
in, if indeed they are in any, for they are noted in 
the notes of the common scale, so that this leaves 
it doubtful ; for each mode had its own peculiar 
notation, and we should easily have discovered the 
Mode, if any had been intended ; and further, all the 
old doctrine of making play with the Subdominant, &c., 
is forgotten : which were the essentially Greek features 
of melody. And not being in any Mode, they do not 
contain any modulation, or passage from Mode to 


Mode, which they well might have done ; for this 
was a characteristic of the later Style of Greek Music, 
as contrasted with the earlier, to use more than one 
Mode in a composition. And bemg late, I say, we 
might have expected some trace of it here ; and it 
was called " Modulation," as we call it, and by its 
means Modes were made play into Modes, as Scales 
with Scales with us. And we have heard of the Dorian 
Mode being used with the Mixolydian in a former 
chapter, and the y^olian with the Dorian, and these 
are easy to see, and the passage from one Mode to the 
other is plain how it was effected, for 

:-^=:^-d ^^ 






—the Mixolydian is an easy continuation of the 

Dorian, starting at F^I— ^ — , the Dorian Mese ; and 

so one easily slides into the other ; and the y^olian 
into the Dorian, in like manner. But what shall we 
say of the Modulation from Mode to Mode, when 
they were so dissimilar as the Dorian and the Lydian, 
or the Mixolydian and the Phrygian ? and these are 
Modulations that we hear of; and sometimes three or 
more Modes were taken in one piece. And how was 
the Modulation effected ? And it was made in the 
same way in which we make our modulations to-day, 
that is, a common note was taken, which was common 
to both modes, and this served for the pivot on which 
the change took place.^ And just as we, e,g. in 

1 Manuel Bryennius. p. 391. Ed. Wallis, ava^^Kaiov KOivov ri 



passing from Naturals to 4 sharps, let us say, select 
the note B, which is common to both keys, to be our 

pivot of change, as. 

i^ziSSzz;?:^ and so in 

other keys ; so did the Greeks modulate in the same 
manner, as in passing from the Dorian to the Lydian, 

_ .^, .^. :^- 

f=2— ^: 





— ^— ==*- 



they would take C for their pivot, thus, 

and from the Mixolydian to the Phrygian, 












-(2- ■^- 


they would take E \z, as 








And this was the method of Modulation which had 
grown up in Greek Music, and of which we find no 
trace in these fragments of the Roman Period, which 
we have just given. And how shall we explain the 
absence of this and of other characteristics of the 
Music of the Classical period ? And it is plain that 

I I 


we must call in the aid of Phonetic Decay to 
account for these things, and then we shall say that 
the conditions of age do but repeat the conditions of 
youth, and if we have nothing else to admire in 
these Roman fragments, we at least have their 
chastity and simplicity to admire, in which we may 
see over again the character of the early days of 
the Greek Music. Even at its prime, indeed, such 
melodies as these would have seemed to purists, like 
Plato, preferable to much of the music that was in 
vogue. ' Take away from me,' he says, ' your modu- 
lations and your rhythmic metaboles : I will have 
none of them.'^^ And then in his Ideal Common- 
wealth he would feed his airy burgomasters with no 
high-spiced meats, or ragouts a la Sicilienne^ for this 
is how he calls these modulations and metaboles, but 
with the plainest food, which should make them 
manly, and keep them simple-minded. And such a 
view as this necessarily flowed out of his ethical con- 
ception of Music. But because we find him inveigh- 
ing against these things, for that reason we must 
admit that they existed in the common music of his 
time, as they could scarcely help at the advanced 
state that Greek Music had now reached. Nor need 
we go so far with him as to condemn them as 
perversive of taste, for those generous spirits who 
aspire at ideal perfection are always apt to prefer the 
past to the present, and it is certain that what 
Sophocles could write, could never really merit such 
reproach as this. 

And for the same reason that Plato would banish 

1 Pint. Rep. 399. cf. 404. 

- S^keXjkiji' TTOlKtXiav 6\pov, 


Modulations and Metaboles from his Ideal Common- 
wealth, for the same reason he would only admit 
certain Modes to that nice seclusion. For each Mode 
had its Ethos, as we have said before, and some of 
these are easy to see, and some are not so easy. 
For the Mixolydian Mode was held the mode of 
passion, and this is easy to see, for its character of 
passion lies principally in that Superfluous Fourth 
between E [2 and A, 


.^ -cr -^- ^ 
which we must imagine most freely taken and con- 
tinually employed in this mode, since there was a 
time, as we have learnt from those ancient forms of 
modes which we have but recently studied, when the 
Mixolydian Mode had no notes between the E z 
and A, and must needs always take this superfluous 
fourth each time it would ascend. And this getting 
to be the habit of the Mode, we may look here, I 
imagine, for the secret of its passion and sentiment. 
And the ^olian is also easy to see, for it was the 
Mode of magnificence and impressiveness and solem- 
nity ; and it owes these characters apparently to its 
depth, for it was the deepest of all the Modes. But 
the other Modes will admit no such explanations as 
these, and we must look solely to the positions of 
the semitones in each, to account for their characters. 
And the Dorian and the Phrygian have them much 
like our Minor, the Dorian being our Minor in its 
upper part, and the Phrygian in its lower part, 
and both these modes bear characters which we 
ourselves find in the Minor, for the Dorian Mode 
was considered ' sombre,' ' grave,' ' earnest ' ; and thence 
' martial,' and ' manly ' ; and the Phrygian Mode had 


that other train of Minor characteristics, * wildness,' 
' rage,' ' frenzy,' and hence was the mode of religious 
ecstasy and the dithyramb. And the ' sweet ' Lydian 
as compared to these, we shall easily understand its 
epithet, for the Lydian Mode was the same as our 
Major. And now of the two remaining, the Hypo- 
phrygian (' severe ') is not so easy to see ; and the 
Hypolydian, which was the 'voluptuous' mode, doubt- 
less gains its character by a similar prominence to 
the Superfluous 4th which the Mixolydian gives, 
though in a different part of the Mode.^ Now of 
these Modes, Plato rejecting some and retaining 
others, we may soon know which he rejected and 
which he retained ; for this last will certainly go, 
and the Lydian he likewise dismisses as effeminate, 
and the Mixolydian as querulous, and of those that 
remain, he makes his choice of only one. " I do 
not know the merits of them," he says, " what they 

1 Hypodorian, or ^olian. yav^ov . oyx^^^Q • viroxavvov . isrjp- 
fxivov . TeOappr]icog. (Herac. Pont.) simplex. (Apuleius.) jLUjaXoTTpeirig. 
araaifiov (Aristotle.) /3apuj3po/xov. (Lasus.) 

Hypoplirygian. ai/orrjpov . (TKArjpoy ("hard." Heracl. Pont.) varium. 
(Apuleius.) y\a<^vgov (Lucian. ' smooth, elegant.') 

Hypolydian. eKXsXvjuavov ("voluptuous, dissolute." Piut.) l5aK\iKbv 
(Lucian) jueOvariKov (Aristotle.) 

Dorian. (TKvdpioTTOV ("sombre") acpo^pov . avdpCjdeQ (Herac. Pon.) 
bellicosum. (Apul.) ae/iivov (Pindar. Plut. Lucian.) dE,i(jiJfxaTiKOV (Plut.) 
/nejaXoirpiTrig. (Arist. Herac. Pon ) (STUcnfXOV (Arist.) KaraarrnmriKOV 
(" settling," Proclus.) 

Phrygian. /3a(c;^{KOv . dpyicKjTiKOv . TTaOrjTiicov evdovmaaTiKOv. 
(Aristotle.) evOeov. (Lucian.) religiosum. (Apuleius.) l/carartKOV (Proclus.) 

Lydian. yXvici) (Schol. Pind.) TTOiKiXov (Id.) "youthful" (Aristotle.) 

Mixolydian. yoepov . TraOrjriKOV (Plut.) o^vpTiKOV, "touching," 
(TVVEaTrjKog (Aristot.) 


may be, but give me that Mode which shall express 
the voice and accents of a brave man, who 
bears the brunt of battle and tough fighting, 
and in the face of death, or in the teeth of fearful 
odds, still manfully holds up." ^ In this way he 
selects the Dorian Mode, and this is the only one 
he admits to his Commonwealth, though if he could, 
he would have another, of character somewhat less 
severe, yet still speaking the same spirit, that is, not 
this time fortitude in adversity, but rather modesty 
in prosperity. And there were to be no Flutes in 
his Commonwealth,^ nor Magadises, nor Sambucas, 
which were those many-stringed instruments that 
Sappho and the Lesbians played.^ But the only 
instruments he would admit were the Lyre and 
Cithara for towns, and the Pan Pipe for shepherds 
to play in the country .4 ' And then we must compel 
our poets and composers,' he says, ' to stamp the 
image of virtue on what they write, or otherwise not 
to compose in our commonwealth. And they and all 
other artists too must be stopt from introducing 
any touch of evil disposition, or profligacy, or meanness, 
or ugliness into any of their works, so that our young 
men may dwell in a healthy place, where beautiful 
music and beautiful works of art may for ever face 
their eyes and ears. And this will be like bracing 
winds to them, charged with stores of health, and so 
from childhood they will be led without knowing it 
to love, and almost to equal that eternal beauty, 
which is the beauty of Reason.' ^ And what he 
would use Music for besides in his Commonwealth 

1 Plato. Rep. 399. 

2 Plato. Rep. 399. a lb. i jb, 3 Rep. ^qo. 


was, as we have mentioned was his theory before, to 
soften the rigour of Gymnastic. But particularly now 
to soften the characters of the Guardians of his 
Commonwealth, for he had a body of men stationed 
over his Commonwealth to protect it, and they were 
a sort of soldiers, and they were like young dogs, 
they had been so constantly kept at violent gymnastic 
exercises. And it was necessary to soften these 
men's characters, since otherwise they would be more 
animals than men, and this is what he used music 
for ; and by means of it he would have softened 
them so completely, that he would have turned them 
into the most docile and tractable men in the state. 
And now this was that apt mixing of music with 
gymnastic which he spoke of before, and said it 
was the height of all knowledge of harmony. For 
what would those guardians have been without the 
proper admixture of music in their education ? But 
on the other hand, equally dangerous was it 
to cultivate exclusively music to the neglect of 
gymnastics, for the height of harmony, as we 
see, was to temper one with the other. " For the 
effect of Music," he says, " on the character is 
this. If a man lets Music run in a constant stream 
through his ears, as if they were some funnel or 
another, and passes his life in warbling and the 
pleasures of song, his temper is softened like iron 
would be, and becomes manageable and docile 
instead of unruly and stubborn. But if he does 
not put proper bounds to his music, it will go 
on to melt him away and sap his strength, till at 
last it completely unnerves him, and makes a woman 
of him. And if he is naturally a poor-spirited fellow, 
this is soon done ; but if there is any mettle about 
him, it takes it all out of him, and makes him a 


fractious, peevish man, easily set in a blaze and as 
easily extinguished."^ 

So let Music be never the exclusive pursuit of a 
man's life, but let it be coupled with other things, 
and have its due subordination, or else these bad 
results will surely come. For we should endeavour so 
to live, that the delights of life may never assume 
so engrossing an importance in our eyes, that we 
give way to devoting our life to the sole pursuit of 
them. For what is more delightful to those that 
love it, than the sedulous and untiring cultivation of 
this delightful Music ? Who would not be a musician, 
if being a musician could also ensure his being a 
man ? But indeed it is better to spurn delights 
than to fall a victim to them. And he who passes 
his life in gathering flowers, must expect no more 
than withered garlands for his treasure, and faded 
handfulls of silly flowers. 

And let us see how the Greeks may help us to 
a knowledge of our duty in this matter. For, says 
Athenseus, the poet Alcseus, who was the best 
musician of his time, yet holds his bravery of far 
more account than his music. " My house," says 
Alcaeus, " glitters with brass, and all my walls are 
hung with the implements of war. I have glittering 
helmets, and tall nodding crests to them ; and brazen 
greaves hanging on my walls, and breastplates, and 
hollow shields, that I have won as the spoils of war, 
and swords — " and so he goes on enumerating ; 
" although," says Athenseus, " it would have been much 
more natural, had his house been full of musical 
instruments." . In the same way Archilochus, good 

Plat. Rep. 411. 


musician as he was, yet boasts first of the battles he 
had fought for the state, and only second of his 
musical powers. I am a servant of Mars, he says, 
and I know the sweet gift of the Muses. In the 
same way ^schylus, excellent poet though he was, 
yet preferred to leave that out in his epitaph, and 
only let his bravery be recorded, of which the grove 
of Marathon could tell, and the long-haired Medes 
that fled before him. And since in these modern 
days we cannot mix the bravery of battle with our 
music, let us make the bravery of life to serve 
instead, baring and hardening our limbs in the tough 
labour of irksome duty, and daring all things as if 
to die. And then, as Achilles touched his lyre in 
the breathing-spaces of war, so have we too our 
beautiful art in all its gay perfection now to cheer 
us, and then when we have breathed, to the battle 
again ! 

A professional musician, says Aristotle, is the most 
contemptible being under the sun. He is a miserable, 
mercenary fellow, who would turn Music into a matter 
of profit. He wants pay for every note he plays. 
And then Aristotle ends by deciding, that to make 
music the business of life is unworthy of a free 
citizen.! Yet hand in hand with these opinions, we 
must notice the most scrupulous and reiterated 
injunctions that every one must be taught music, 
which are a commonplace in Greek political philosophy.^ 
And here we may remark the^ difference between 
ancient times and our own. We nurse up a class of 
professional musicians, who absorb the practice of an 

1 Aristotle's Politics. VIII. 7, 

3 e.g. Aristotle's Politics. VIII. 6. &c. 


art that is banished by this very fact from Kfe at 
large. They spread out Music all over life, and 
made it common, refusing to deprive life of so dear 
a privilege, for the sake of hearing a few fine notes 
from throats and fingers that must always be pampered 
into dexterity. Is Music monarchical now ? but then 
it was in its republican days. The Arcadians held it 
not nearly so disgraceful to be ignorant of reading 
and writing as to be ignorant of music.^ Every 
Arcadian must study music as the chief part of his 
education, and that too not only in his boyish years, 
but until thirty years old, we are told, these studies 
were continued.^ They were brought up on it from 
the cradle,^ says Athenseus ; it was their chief study, 
and also their chief pastime, and the only patch of 
softness in a life of most rigorous and austere 
discipline.4 The Messenians in the same way made 
music the principal- part of education, and every year 
they sent 35 boys to Rhegium, to compete for the 
singing prizes there, which it was their greatest glory 
to carry off.^ The Thessalians and Thebans no less 
celebrated than the Messenians, every man in Thebes 
could play the flute,^ which we have remarked before 
as the national instrument of Thebes, and the Thessalians 
equally apt at the lyre.7 The lonians and the 
people of Pontus took such delight in the exercises of 
their children, that they would sit whole days to hear 
them, and to encourage them in friendly competition 
with one another.s But there was one state in Greece 

1 Polybius IV. cf. Athenaeus. p. — 2 Athenseus. p. 626. 

^ £K vrjTTLOJV Kar avajKriv awvrpoi^ov ttoieTv aur/jv. lb. 

^ ToXXa ToiQ l^ioig ovrag avaTr^poraTOvg. 

5 In Pausanias. ^ Athen. 184. "^ Athenseus- 

** Lucian. De Saltatione. 


where the excellence of the Musical training was on 
all hands admitted and envied, and where that 
admirable mixing with gymnastic, which was Plato's 
ideal, had taken place in a way that will never be 
seen again. And this was the state of Sparta. 
There might he have seen his Ideal Commonwealth 
incarnate before him,i if he could have seen Sparta 
in its prime, as we may now behold it. 

And the constitution of Sparta was called the 
Cosmos, that is, the Harmony. And the citizens 
were divided into 3 tribes, which was the Musical 
division according to Pythagoras, and they called one 
another "The Equals," because they were all equal to 
one another, having the same amount of property, and 
the same rights and privileges, and no man having the 
superiority over another in any of these things. And as 
far as was practicable in so great a state, there was 
that Community of Property, which Pythagoras had laid 
down as the radical principle of his musical fraternity, 
though in Sparta it was not carried to so great a 
length as he carried it. But still, says Xenophon, 
' they use one another's dogs, horses, servants, furniture, 
with the greatest freedom ' ; ^ and in other things too 
they had community of property,^ and also in their 
meals, for they all dined together in public halls, and 
each contributed his portion to the common stock. 
And this is how the citizens of Sparta lived together. 
And the Spartan boys began their education at five 
years old, and there were but two things that they 

1 Indeed he hints at this himself in his Laches, T(^ OVTl Z,yjv 
iigfxoafiivoq arexvCJg Swptori, aXX' ouk laori, &c. 

* Xenophon. Lac. Rep. 6. 

3 e.g. their wives, which, though not universal, certainly obtained at 
Sparta. Xenoph. Lac. Rep. Plutarch's Lycurgus. 

THE GREEKS. ■ 49 1 

were trained in, which were Music and Gymnastics. 
And Lycurgus, the founder of the Spartan constitution, 
in appointing this method of education, had set before 
himself the very objects which Plato wished to effect, 
for these are his words, that ' Music was to be mixed 
with Gymnastic, in order to produce harmony and 
melody of action ;^ and the Spartan boys began their 
gymnastic and music together at five years old. 
And they were taught first to sing and to play a 
musical instrument. And after that they were to 
learn Marches off by heart, and the songs of Tyrtaeus, 
and numerous songs by other composers ; and the 
words of these songs were simple and unaffected, and 
the matter of them was the praises of those who 
had lived nobly and died for the defence of Sparta.^ 
And the songs were important for another reason, for 
when they grew up and joined the army, these were 
what they had to sing on the march, and at the 
commencement of, the battle. For before every battle 
the king used to offer a sacrifice to the Muses, and 
then he would intone the first words of a Hymn, and 
all the soldiers joining in, they marched singing to the 
fight.3 And also in camp it was the custom of the 

1 PJutarcli. Instit. Lacon. 16. 6 yap AvKovpyog Trape^ev^e rrj 
Kara woXejuov cKTKricrH rriv (j)i\oiixov(Tiav, ottwc to ayav 
TToXefiiKov T(v i/z/isXet KepacrOev (JVfX(^u)viav kcli apfioviav 
e'XP- Cf. Plato's words (Rep. 412.) rbv KoXXiaT apa fiOvcriKy 
jvjuvaaTiKTiv Kepavvvvra kol juerpLivraTa ry i/'^X^ TrpoacpepovTa, 
TovTov bpQoTar av (jxmjuev riXecjg jiiovcriKMTaTOV kcu. evapfxoa- 
Torarov ttoXv fxaWov rj rbv rag \opdag a.XXr]Xaig 

t,vvi(rTavTa " he is the perfect musician and master of harmony far 
more than any tuner of strings can be." 

- Plutarch. Instit. Lac. Athenseus. 630. cf. 184. 

3 Plut. Instit. Lac. 16. Id. Cleomenes. 


soldiers to sing Paeans to Apollo all together, and the 
songs of Tyrtaeus one after another in turn before 
retiring to rest.^ And it was to know all these, and 
to be proficient in them, I imagine, that the Spartan 
boys were made to commit so much music to memory. 
And the end of their education was Obedience, 
Endurance, and how to conquer or die in the fight.^ 
And to this end they were marshalled in troops, and 
made to fight mimic battles with one another, in 
which they used all the circumstance of real warfare, 
marching with pipes playing, and singing their war 
songs ; and there were often desperate encounters 
between them.3 And they were only allowed one 
garment in summer and winter alike, and obliged to 
go barefoot all the year round.4 And as they walked 
through the streets, they were never allowed to speak 
to any one, or even to look round them, but they 
must keep their eyes fixed on the ground, and seem 
unconscious of what was going on around them. 
" And they might have been stones," says Xenophon, 
" for all the voice they seemed to have ; they might 
have been statues for all their eyes moved ; and 
they were as modest as girls." ^ And to encourage 
them in this exacting obedience, there were songs and 
rhythms, excellently tempered, and in praise of these 
things.'^ And the rhythms themselves were so con- 
structed, as of themselves to instil obedience and 
courage without any need of precept.7 And these they 
were required to learn and to familiarise themselves 

Xenoph. Lac. Rep. i2. Athenseus. 630. 

Plut. Inst. Lac. 4. 

Plutarch's Lycurgus. * Xen. Lac. Rep. i. 

Xen. Lac. Rep. 3. ^ Plut. Instit. Lac. 14. 

lb. 16. 


with, as we have said, in the full belief that such 
results would come. And if we may believe the most 
impartial of the Greeks, there was no illusion in the 
matter. We have heard of the dreams of philosophers, 
says Plutarch, about the power of Music ; but in 
Sparta, we have a whole nation caught philosophising.^ 
And again he says, " He that knows the Spartan 
Music, and particularly the Spartan Marches, will soon 
see that the stories of the poets about Music are 
something more than fictions."^ And this was the 
confessed end and aim of all the Spartan Music, 
to attain the rank of a Moral Power in the State ; 
and all music which did not pursue this end was set 
down as ' ear-tickling.' and worthless stuff.^ " It is 
Music," said Agesilaus, " which discovers the coward 
from the brave." And we may very well see how this 
might be, for he that is filled with the spirit of 
Rhythm will step firmly and never falter. P^or 
Rhythm is Strength, and want of Rhythm is Hesita- 
tion. And how terribly would this want show in a 
Spartan Symphony ! For this was a Spartan 
Symphony — not the gathering together of many 
instruments and players sitting in a ring, and 
warbling sweet strains to charm the ear, but it was 
when their army was drawn up, and the enemy in front, 

^ oXrjv TToXiv 0(Ao(TO^ov(7av. Cf. Libanius' remarks on the 

universality of music and dancing at Sparta in his Pro Saltatoribus. 

^ Plut.'s Lycurgus. And Lucian, ciTvavTa fxerd Movaiov TTOiovmv 

a\pi Tov TToXefxelv. 

2 Endamidas in Plutarch's Laconic Apophthegms. When a citharist 
was praised very much, Endamidas said, " He is fxijag Ky]\r]KTUQ 
Iv afiLKpiJo irpwyfiaTL. Also Demaratus in the same way (lb.) 
\pa\TOv aKOOLOjUSvog, ov KaKwg, elirs, (j)aiveTai julol (pAvapElv. 


and the king had sacrificed a goat to the Muses. Then 
all the soldiers put on garlands, and the pipers struck 
up the Castoreian March, and the king started the 
Hymn, and all joined in chorus. And all moving 
forward together, and singing with strong clear voices, 
their appearance was grand and terrific, all marching 
like one man to the music of their pipes, and never 
making a gap in their ranks. And so they marched 
cheerfully and calmly into the thickest of the fight, 
to the music of their hymns. And this was the 
Spartan Symphony. 

And to produce so glorious a consummation was all 
their Music directed, and so there was much exclusive- 
ness, as we may well imagine ; for all bad and 
meretricious music must be constantly weeded out by 
the diligence of the magistrates ; and they were very 
stern and severe in their taste, and only approved 
those melodies and rhythms that were chaste and 
pure, always preferring the ancient to the modern, 
and being reluctant to accept the smallest innovation. 
For even Terpander, the severe stylist, and prince of 
the ancient and simple music, the Ephors fined, and 
took away his lyre from him, because he had added 
an extra string for the sake of embellishing the 
accompaniment to his song. And when Timotheus 
was contending at the Carneian festival, one of the 
Ephors, taking a knife, asked him on which side of 
his lyre he would have the extra strings cut off, that 
were more in number than seven. And three times, 
they boasted, they had saved Music from perishing.^ 
And I imagine the third time was this very time 

^ Kai (fiam rpig 7/Srj aeaiiJKevai diafjtOeipoinivrjv fxovtTiKrjv, 

Athen. 628. 


when the strings of Timotheus' lyre were cut by 
Ecprepes, the Ephor, and two strings were cut away 
from the lyre of Phrynis at the same time ; and 
Phrynis and Timotheus were virtuosos who were doing 
much at that period to corrupt the beauty of the 
Greek Music, and it was by checking them that the 
Spartans said they had for the third time saved 
Music from perishing. But the other two times were 
earlier in history than this was, and were, indeed, not 
so much preventive measures, but rather well-considered 
Reformations of Music, in which, after careful and 
mature deliberation, certain reforms were allowed to be 
introduced into the Music, and duly sanctioned by 
law ; and on both these occasions certain innovations 
were legalised, but only then. And this is what is 
meant by the Spartan Musical Catastases, that is, the 
Reforms or Establishments of Music at Sparta. 

And the First Musical Catastasis at Sparta was at 
the time of Terpander, when the Ephors invited him 
to Sparta to reform the Music.^ And what he did, 
and how he founded a School of Musicians there, we 
have said before. And it was at this time that the 
Nomes of Philammon, the Delphian, were introduced 
into Sparta,2 some of which Terpander himself is said 
to have adapted and arranged for the seven-stringed 

And the Second Musical Catastasis at Sparta was 
due to Thaletas of Gortyna, Xenodamus of Cythera, 
Xenocritus of Locris, Polymnestus of Colophon, and 
Sacadas the Argive.4 And these would come about 

^ Plutarch. De Musica. 9. 

? Plut, De Mus. 5. 3 lb. 4 lb. 


sixty or seventy years after Terpander.^ And it was 
due to the influence of these men that the Lydian 
and Phrygian Modes were introduced into Sparta,^ 
where up till then only the Dorian Mode had been 
known. And Sacadas is said to have composed a 
Strophe in each of these three modes, the first in the 
Dorian, the second in the Phrygian, and the third in 
the Lydian,3 and he taught the choruses to sing the 
three in one piece ; and very likely, instead of being 
three separate Strophes, it was a Strophe in the 
Dorian Mode, an Antistrophe in the Phrygian, and an 
Epode in the Lydian (but of this we are not told). 
And this Ode was called the Trimeres, or Threefold 
Ode, and this was the first time that the Phrygian 
and Lydian Modes were heard in Sparta. And 
Sacadas is also said to have written Elegies,^ being 
a flute - player of the Argive School, and probably 
much under the influence of Olympus. And these 
were the innovations of Sacadas the Argive. And 
Thaletas, Xenodamus, and Xenocritus were writers of 
Pseans, and Polymnestus wrote Orthian Songs, that is, 
songs in the stately Orthian Rhythm, which was first 
employed by Terpander.^ And Thaletas is said to 
have introduced the Cretic Foot into Spartan Music,^ 
and being a Cretan himself, and writing Pseans, this 
is very probable ; for that the Cretic was once the 

1 That is, putting Terpander at the close of the ist Messenian War, 
they would come at the close of the 2nd. In all these dates there 
is necessarily much confusion, and the writer of this book has 
necessarily preferred the chronology of the Greek musical wi'iters. For 
a detailed discussion of these and. other dates, see Westphal's 
Geschichte der Musik. The date of the 2nd Messenian War assumed 
in the text is the ordinary one, 685-668. 

2 lb. 8. 3 lb. 4 piut De Mus. 9. 
5 Plut. Pe Mus. 9, e lb. JO. 


sole rhythm of the Paean, is what we have before 
supposed. But we must not assume that Thaletas has 
the merit of introducing the Psean Hymn into Sparta, 
for the Paean was sung there from the earhest times, 
being the Hymn to Apollo, who was the national god 
of the Dorians ; and therefore as old as the race itself. 
Yet the Paean may well have been sung in some other 
measure, such as the Dactylic or Spondaic, and not 
have employed the Paeonic, or Cretic foot until the 
time of Thaletas. And this is how we will take it. 
For what renders this a probable view is that the 
Spartan Paean, and indeed the general Paean of the 
Greeks, was often sung without the accompaniment of 
the dance/ being sung in the evening round the camp- 
fires, or at the solemn prayers to Apollo, when they 
prayed that he would give them what was good and 
beautiful, for this comprised their whole desire ; so 
that it was often sung sitting or standing, and was 
rather of the nature of a Chant to them ; but only 
in Crete was it constantly danced to, and there was 
developed that beautiful Cretic, or Paeonic step, which 
Thaletas now for the first time introduced into the 
Spartan Paeans. And it was about this time, I 
imagine, or perhaps a little before it, that Tyrtaeus 
came to Sparta, who may well be considered in 
connection with this Musical Catastasis, and whose 
influence on Spartan Music was very great indeed. I 
say, it was perhaps a little before this time that he. 
came, because at the time of his arrival the Spartans 
were in a state of great depression, owing to their ill 
success in the Messenian wars, and it is not at all 
likely that the Musical Catastasis should have taken 

^ rov TlaiaVa orl /uev o)p\Evvro, ork §' ou. Athenseus. 631. 

K K 


place till after the conclusion of these wars. And 
being in great straits at their reverses, and unable to 
make head against the enemy, they sent to the 
oracle of Delphi for advice, and they were ordered to 
seek a general from Athens. And the Athenians in 
derision sent them a lame teacher of music, whose 
name was Tyrtseus, and he was to be their general. 
But what did this man do? For he first tranquillised 
the commotions at Sparta itself by means of his 
elegy, Eunomia, in which he so extolled the beauty of 
good order, and had set his words to such music, 
that very soon good order reigned at Sparta ; and 
afterwards he wrote glorious Marches, and taught the 
soldiers to sing them as they marched against the 
enemy, which now they did with such spirit, by 
benefit of Tyrtseus' music, that very soon they 
conquered the Messenians. And the rhythm which 
Tyrtseus used in his Marches was the Anapsestic 
Rhythm, though whether he was the first to introduce 
it into Sparta, or whether the Spartans knew it before, 
and he first applied it to the Battle Marches, we 
cannot say. And it is such a rhythm that makes 
any man brave who hears it, and it remained the 
rhythm of the Spartan Marches ever afterwards. And 
here is one of Tyrtseus' Marches, and let us notice how 
bold and firm it is : — 

ay it S) STraprae Iv - av - ^^ov 

1 I t S > 1 f K IS 1 L I ] 

Kovpoi Trartpajv tto - \l - a - Tav, 

I I F N I"* I F i** Js i F 1 ] 

Xaiq. fxlv 1 - Tvv Trpo-jSa-Xecr - 0£, 



So - pv S' £u - TO - \fi(x)Q {deesi) 

1 ' f h l> I f 1 I f I 3 


ixy) (pH - 00 - lUE - vot Tag ^(o - ag 

I I f k ^ I f I I f I 3 

ov yap TTUT - piov to. Syrap - to.. ^ 

And we shall have cause to notice that these 
anapaests differ from the later form of that metre, in 
having a long note, or juciKpa T^Toaxpovog, at the end 
of each line, but the later form had the last bar 
constituted like the other bars, z>. J J | or 
J*' J^ J I • And this, then, remained the rhythm of 
the Spartan Marches, which were called Evibateria, 
and were renowned all over Greece, as we have heard 
just now Plutarch speak in praise of them. And I 
think it was owing to Tyrtseus' influence that the 
Pipe was substituted for the Lyre to accompany the 
Marches, for at first the Spartans, like the Cretans, 
as followers of Apollo, marched to battle to the sound 
of the Lyre,2 but afterwards the Pipe or Fife was 
substituted for the Lyre, because its tone was shriller, 
and less likely to be drowned by the tramp of the 
feet. And the reason that this change may be ascribed 
to Tyrtseus is this, that the Pipe was the instrument 
which Tyrtseus himself played, and it is very likely that 
he should have introduced it along with his marches into 
the armies. And Tyrtseus having seen the wars to a 
successful close, is said to have written martial songs, 


Tyrtaeus in Clemens. 

MUller's Dorians. IV. 6. quoting numerous passages. 


that should serve also for times of peace, and of these 
one is preserved to us, which always remained a 
favourite at Sparta, and it was sung by three choruses, 
one of old men, another of younger men, and the third 
of boys, and they stood in three rows and answered 
one another, and first the old men sang, 

aimeg ttot r)/^EC a^Kijuoi veaviai, 

We once zvere valiant %varrio7's. 

And the younger men replied, 

aiAq 0£ y' lafxev ' al Se ^y^y Treipav Xa/St, 
A7id IV e are valiant warriors. And if yon zvish, 
yon may prove tts. 

And then the boys sang, 

a/i£C 0£ -y' iaaoiimda ttoAXoj Kuppovsg. 

And ive zvill be more valiant than you both. 

And this was one of the songs of Tyrtseus for 
encouraging the martial spirit among the Spartans. 

And we have now considered Tyrtseus in con- 
nection with the Musical Catastasis, about which, 
however, something more remains to be said, for 
Thaletas, Xenodamus, Xenocritus, and the rest, who 
were the promoters of it, are said not only to have 
introduced those modes and rhythms which we have 
before credited them with, but something more 
important than this ; for it was owing to their 
influence, we are told, that the Gymnopsedia, or 
Festival of naked boys, was introduced into Sparta, 
the Apodeixes into Arcadia, and the Endymatia into 
Argos I Whether the Endymatia at Argos had 
anything in common with the Sthenia, where the 
combatants wrestled in time to the flute,^ we cannot 

1 Plutarch. De Musica. 9. ^ j^i, 26. 


say, but the Gymnopaedia was certainly of this nature, 
being a festival which lasted for many days, in which 
all the arts of Music and Gymnastic were seen in 
harmonious play.^ And it was held once a year, 
and in honour of Apollo. And first there was the 
Anapale, or Wrestling Dance,^ in which the boys 
danced naked to the sound of the flute, making 
mimic advances and retreats, and making graceful 
motions with their hands and arms in the manner of 
wrestlers,^ and exhibiting all the arts of the wrestling- 
ring, with their feet moving in dancing steps all the 
time. And then, also in musical measure, and to the 
accompaniment of the Flute, came the Pancratium, 
which was a mixture of Boxing and Wrestling. And 
we must ever admire how this contest could be 
carried on in musical time, and yet we are assured 
it was ; for when they have locked hand in hand, 
says Lucian, and have given blows and taken them, 
and pause a moment for breath, the flight floats off 
into a dance.4 And a flute-player stood in the ring, 
playing his flute, and beating time with his foot.-^ 
And next there were dances of youths in rows 
behind each other ; ^ and Ball Dances,^ such as we 
have described before, which were much practised at 
Sparta and Sicyon ; and then there was the Pentath- 

1 See the account in Miiller's Dorians. IV. 6. 

'■^ Tiae Anapale was strictly the old and simple form of dance, on 
which the Gymnopasdic itself was based, although it may well have 
survived in its original shape as an introduction to the Gymnopaedia. 
Cf. Atheiieeus. 631. 

" Reading Kara TraArjv, or some such correction, for Kara to 

"^ oTav yap aKgo^H^KJUix^voi kcu Traiaavreg kol TraicrOevTeg 
Iv ru) fiipH TTavGMVTai, elg op-^rjcriv avrolg 1) djwvia reXtvrn 

5 Lucian. lb. '^ jMiiller's Dorjans, IV- 6. ^ lb. 


lum, which was one of the most beautiful of them 
all — 01 irivraBXoi KoXXiaToi, says Aristotle — which was 
always performed at this festival, and was the 
harmonious union of five different exercises, that were 
all performed in musical measure and to the accom- 
paniment of the flute.i And first there was the 
Leaping, and next the Foot Race, and next the 
Ouoit-throwing, and then the Javelin-throwing, and 
then the Wrestling. And all this to the accom- 
paniment of the Flute, to whose tune the combatants 
kept step. But the Gymnopaedic dance, which was 
the crown of the festival, was danced by the most 
beautiful boys and the bravest men, and they danced 
in two lines, and sang, as they danced, the paeans 
of Thaletas and the Spartan Dionysidotus.^ And the 
leaders of the dance wore chaplets of palms. ^ 
And it was a slow, measured dance, such as suited 
with the character of the Psean.4 And this dance 
was particularl}^ sacred to Apollo.5 And it was 
danced in the ^opog, that is, the flat open space in 
the centre of the city, which was set apart for these 

1 As we know from Pausanias. VI. 14. 10. and Plutarch De 
Musica. 26. The assertion m a former page about the Pancratium 
being accompanied by Flute-playing is also mentioned by Pausanias 
as well as Lucian, but the writer regrets that he has lost the reference. 

- Athen. 678. There is a certain confusion about the accounts of 
these dances at the Gymnopsedia, which malces it difficult to separate 
them, e.g. by some, and if my memory serves me, by Athenseus 
among the number, the Gymnopeedic dance is identified with the 
Anapale, as it is described on preceeding page. In saften und 
harmonischen Bewegungen, says Manso, getanzt wurde. (Sparta. 
Beilagen. 210.) 

3 Ath. 678. 

^ As we may well judge from its being compared with the 
tjTTOV^aia Emmeleia. 

^ laTciai wavrag rovg -)(^opovg rw 'AttoAAwv*, says Pausanias 
in his Laconics, but this one especially so. 


dances, for in most of the Dorian towns, or in those 
that, Hke Sparta, preserved the traditions of the heroic 
age, there were always flat open spaces left in the 
centre of the city, which were set apart for the 
public dances. And some indeed say that the name, 
Xopog {Chorus), itself, was given to the dancers, 
because they danced in this yui^oq, or xopoc, which 
was the name by which this flat open space was 
called. And if we wonder why the dance was 
deemed of so much consequence that even the city 
could be arranged to suit its convenience, we must 
remember that this flat open space was designed not 
only for the exercise of the dance, but also for the 
drilling of the troops, or, in one word, the dance 
itself served at one and the same time for a dance 
and for military drill. " There is no difference between 
the Spartan dancing and the Spartan drilling that I 
can see," says one,i and this expression might have 
been true of most of the Dorian states of this 
time. And although that Gymnopaedic dance, that 
we have just described, that was danced with 
crowns of palms and in such solemn, measured 
time, can scarcely be considered in this light, 
but was on the contrary a peaceful dance, and 
as such is described by writers, it was none 
the less considered, like all other dances of its kind, as 
merely an introduction to the warlike dances, which 
were the drill of the Army ; for we are told that 
directly the boys attained proficiency in the Gymno- 
paedic Dance, they were passed on to these War 
Dances.2 And the great War Dance was the Pyrrhic, 

^ 'icOLQ 6 av vvv tzL rovg icpy^ovg avrCov ov {jlhov 
6p\H(j9ai i) oirXofxaxeiv fxavBdvovTag. 

2 Athen, 631. 


which was danced in full armour ^ in the square in the 
centre of the city. And the Pyrrhic was danced to 
the shrill accompaniment of pipes, and the dancers 
clashed their armour as they danced.^ And they made 
the hundred motions of an army in full engagement — 
there was the starting back and diving down to avoid 
imaginary darts, whirling up and down the shields to 
catch the flying arrows, poising the javelins to 
discharge them at the foe, bending the bows and taking 
aim, or making mimic rushes forward, as in the heat of 
victory ; ^ and these were some of the motions of the 
Pyrrhic, which were all done in rhythmic measure, and 
by all the dancers at once and in time. And the 
ground form of the Pyrrhic, like that of all the Spartan 
dances, was the Square Form (ev TurpayMvu))/^ that is to 
say, the dancers were drawn up in one compact 
squadron, which was the form of the Phalanx. And 
this Square might either incline to the column (Kara 
K^ya), or to the line form (Kara aToi)(ouc), that is to say, 
it might be deeper than its breadth, or more in front 
than in flank ; and in each case it was called Square 
(tv rtrpcr/wwoj). For let us consider the composition 
of the Pyrrhic. And hearing that it was danced in two 
bodies, like the Gymnopaedic, one of youths, the other 
of men, we may well suppose that each of them had 
the numbers of a company 5 of a regiment, that is 
to say, 25 in all, or 24 rank and file, and the Captain 
of the company, who made the 25th; and these two 
companies would make 50, all told, as the total number 

1 It was an evoirXiog opx^J^-'C (Jul- Pollux.) 

2 Dionysius Halicarnass. II. ^ piato. p. 815. 

* Atlien. 181. ^ IvijjfxoTia 



of the dancers, which was the regular number of a 
Spartan Pentecostys. These companies, then, might be 
arranged in two ways, either Kara ^vya, three abreast 
and eight deep. 

wztk the Captain of the Company, 


or Kara aroixovg, six abreast and four deep, 

zvit/i tJie Captaiji of the Company^ 

and in each case they would be described as Iv 
T^T^a'yMVM, that is, a Square. And we have chosen 
these depths of front and flank, because they were the 
usual ones that were employed when the phalanx was 
in action ;i and therefore most likely also to be 
observed in the drill, which in every sense we must 
conceive the Pyrrhic to have been.^ 

Standing then Iv rtrpoywvw, and 50, all told, they 
clashed their arms, and made these mimic motions of 

I Kara rpac. Kara %%. Xenophon. Lac. Rep. ir. eg. at the 

Battle of Mantinea it was Jcarrt rouq. See Polysenus. 

- How intimate was the connexion let us hear from Athenseus 
7rap« Tolq aWoig "E,XXr]ai ovkIti Trapajuevei (sc. 7] TTvpfiiyr]), 
Kai iKkiTTOVdriQ aiiTrjg o-u^^l^rj/ce TOvq rroXefxovg KaraXv- 
$T]vai, ?' 631. 



battle that we have described, to the music of flutes 
and fifes. But this was but the ground form of the 
dance, for it had many others, and all of them we 
shall find to have been identical with the evolutions 
of the troops on the battle-field. For first there was 
the Countermarch, which was the evolution by which 
the File-leaders came to the front. For when the rear 
of the company was exposed to attack from the 
enemy, the Spartans did not consider it sufficient to 
face about ; but they must always bring the bravest 
men, who were the file-leaders, to the place of danger ; 
and this they effected by a countermarch — the file- 
leaders passing up between the files, and the bringers-up 
following from their places, while the rear rank merely 
faced about, when their turn came, and remained 
standing in their original positions. Thus the company 
had advanced nearer by its own length to the enemy, 
with the file-leaders at its hcad.^ Now this evolution 
we may well imagine was faithfully produced in the 
Pyrrhic, from the description we have of it ; ^ and 
also the Countermarch by Rank, which brought the 
column suddenly into line, as into line on the right 
by one, two, three steps to the rear respectively, and 

^ Tt is of course questionable whether the " Dancing " Countermarch, 
Xopaoc l^eXiy/Liog, may not have been the form of Counter- 
march that appeared in the Pyrrhic, although it was Cretan not 
Spartan. The name is what suggests this ; and besides it was more 
intricate and also more showy, for not only did the file-leaders move 
as in the Spartan, and each afterwards in his turn till it came 
to the rear - rank - man, who only faced about, but the rear- 
rank-man and all the file moved with the file-leader, with the 
consequence that the file occupied the identical ground at the end of 
the countermarch as before it. See -^Uan, in the 27th Chapter of 
his Tactics. 

- In Apuleius. ' Decoros inerrabant ambitus,' is the parallel passage 
in Apuleius to the et,eXiyiixog. 


right face, and so march into line/ for as the Pyrrhic 
was being danced, all of a sudden the dancers would 
appear in line by a rapid Countermarch by Rank, 
which was done so skilfully, like all the Spartan 
tactics, that one could scarcely see how the line had 
been so suddenly formed. ^ And then we hear of 
" Sinuous lines " 3 in the Pyrrhic, which is obviously the 
TTtTrXejiuevr) TaE,ig, or "waved line" form of attack, by which 
the Plaesium was encountered in the battle ; for when the 
enemy advanced in Plaesium, that is, in the shape of 
an Oval, with the archers and slingers in the centre, 
and the heavy-armed all round, the way to encounter 
them was by forming into a " waved line," which 
waving in and out would tempt the outside men of 
the Plaesium to attack, because of the appearance of 
weakness which it gave, and so break their own ranks 
in doing so. And then the dancers of the Pyrrhic 
would suddenly form m orbevi, which may well have 
been this very Plaesium itself, which before they were 
feigning to attack.^ But I imagine it was not this so 
much, but rather the Menoeides, or Half Moon that is 
meant, which was the tactic that Ileon, the Thessalian, 
invented to meet a Rhomboid of horse ; for the 
Menoeides was the sudden formation of a Half Moon, 
with the horns overlapping, and was an infallible 

1 See Elian's Tactics and the Emperor Leo's Tactics for these. 
Also Isocrates. Archid. where the line one deep is mentioned, which 
as a matter of fact is on record elsewhere, as employed iir a battle 
of the Spartans against the Arcadians. This is Apuleius' ' obliqua 
series,' as I take it. 

'- "Evolutions are easy to the Lacedaemonians which are difficult to 
other men," says Xenophon. Lac. Rep. ii. 

'■'' Apuleius. loc. cit. 

* It was the most gi^aceful of the battiCS, says; ^lian ; and we can 
scarcely imagine it to have been singled out for omission in the 


resistance to a charge of cavalry, and therefore 
naturally much employed by the Spartans, who were 
nearly all foot soldiers. Or in its form of Hyper- 
phalangisis or Hypercerasis being perhaps more familiar 
to Dorian warfare, though the latter of these two 
positions was only with one side lunated. And the 
Embolos Phalanx, which was the formation of a wedge 
to resist horsemen in line, finds its reproduction in 
the Wedge of the Pyrrhic.^ Nor must we forget 
the Epistrophe, and Anastrophe, and two forms of 
Metabole, and the Clisis, which were the facings and 
wheelings, and constantly employed in these evolutions, 
and therefore would naturally enter into the dance ; 
or that wheel of the whole body, to get the rear on 
the left or right, when the whole body wheeled, like 
a ship swinging round.^ But there was one form of 
evolution which we must particularly notice, and that 
was the common one of breaking up the main body 
into companies ; and in the Pyrrhic, if its numbers 
were those of the Pentecostys, as we have assumed, 
it would be the breaking up of the dancers into the 
two companies that they were composed of ; ^ and 
these would sometimes act together, as in a regular 
battle, but as often they would engage in mimic 
opposition, and we should have had the spectacle of 
two mimic armies, menacing and confronting each 
other, or when peace was made, falling together in 
square, as we had them at first. And these are some 
of the movements of the Pyrrhic Dance, and we have 
shown how they answered to the evolutions of the 

' Cuneati.' (Apuleius.) 

waTrep TpL{]prj dvTLTTpct) pov. 

In catervse dissidium separati. Apuleius. 

510 History of music. 

And the tunes to which the Pyrrhic was danced were 
'martial,' 'inspiring,' 'majestic/^ and probably most of 
them were in the Anapaestic Metre, which was the 
metre of the Marches ; for although the Pyrrhic foot 
(ww) was the one that was originally employed, yet 
we know that it was by no means the only one used, 
for even that slow Orthian foot of Terpander had 
effected an entry into the Pyrrhic dance,^ and other feet 
doubtless which we are not informed of ; but we will 
agree that the Anapaestic measure was the commonest 
one, because the Pyrrhic evolutions so nearly resembled 
the military ones, that they could scarcely help 
employing the marching measure most frequently. And 
it was the highest ambition of the citizen to stand in 
the front rank in the Pyrrhic dance, for this is what it 
meant — for as in the battle the front-rank-men were 
those of unsullied bravery, ■^ so in the dance they were the 
men of spotless character who were placed in the front 
rank.4 And this was the difference between peace and 
war — Courage for the fight, and Purity for the Dance. 
And the men who had committed any bad or immoral 
act were placed in the rear rank, like those whose 
bravery was suspected were similarly placed in the 
battle, so that the Thessalians could conceive no higher 
title of respect than that of "Front rank dancers," and 
their magistrates and chief citizens were always honored 
with this title.^ 

And the movements of the hands and arms in the 
Pyrrhic was called x^<povo/xia, and constituted a study 

Trapo^vvTiKov, TrofXiriKov, IvoirXiov. (Jul. Pollux.) 
AtheuEeus. 631. ^ Elian's Tactics. 37. 

Xenoplion. Rep. Lac. 9. 

7rpoopx^(Trrj|0£C. Lucian's Orcll. 


in itself. And let us for a moment consider how 
beautiful and graceful these movements must have been, 
when we hear that often sculptors would first conceive 
them in their studios, and then teach them to the 
dancers.'^ And these movements being all more or less 
an imitation of the actions of warfare, we may say that 
there was an element of mimicry about them, so that 
some have not hesitated to call the Pyrrhic a Mimetic, 
or Imitative Dance, which is a term however that it 
scarcely seems to deserve, for, as we have seen, it was 
rather the drill or preparation for warfare than any 
conscious imitation of it, and the movements were 
merely such as came in the course of a training, which 
aimed at turning good dancers into good fighters, and 
so the poses and attitudes were actual lessons that had 
to be learnt, though in the dance they appeared in an 
ideaHsed form. 

In this way we can scarcely call the Pyrrhic an 
Imitative dance, nor the Gymnopsedic either, nor indeed 
any of these dances that we have described, unless it 
be the Anapale, or Wrestling Dance, in which the 
actions of wrestlers were imitated. But this too has 
been thought not strictly to deserve the name of 
Imitative, but to partake, like the Pyrrhic, rather of the 
nature of an exercise than of direct imitation, and so 
very far removed from the real Imitative, or Mimetic 
Dances, of which several existed in Sparta and other 
Dorian States. And this is the third and last class of 
dances which yet remains for us to describe, and the 
name by which they were known was Hyporchemes, 
and we shall see how different they were to the others, 
when we say that the song they were danced to, instead 

Athenagus. p. 629. 


of being a mere lyrical encomium on virtue or bravery, 
or some high quality like this, contained an element of 
narrative, and the singers imitated by their actions the 
goings on of the tale. And it seems that Hyporchemes 
were destined to come into being from the moment 
when Narrative Poetry passed from the exclusive 
possession of the rhapsodists, and became entrusted to 
Choruses. For to sit and recite a tale is one thing, 
and to dance and recite it is another. And large bodies 
of dancers could scarcely help indulging in imitation, in 
the freedom of the dance, when the limbs are lively, 
and the spirits raised ; and it was but waiting till the 
fashion of all using the same gestures should develop 
itself, for Hyporchemes to develop and take the 
form, which we now find them taking among the 
Dorians. And they consisted then in singing some 
simple narrative in verse, and imitating the actions of 
the story as it went along. And sometimes all the 
Chorus would do this, and sometimes the best dancers 
were chosen to give the most vivid representation of 
the words, while the rest contented themselves with 
singing the song and perhaps a few gestures here and 
there at the more important moments. And both 
forms are described to us. And favourite subjects of 
the Hyporchemes were the exploits of Hercules, 
episodes from the Trojan war, or from the Wanderings 
of Odysseus, the later stories of the Cyclic poets of 
the destruction of Troy, the Epigoni, and so on, 
many of which, it will be seen, offer scope for most 
spirited action, and there would often be mimic 
conflicts and mimic deaths, such as we find for 
instance in a still simpler form of the Hyporcheme, 
which has been preserved to us by Xenophon. For 
in this Hyporcheme that he has described to us, there 
was no heroic adventure to be depicted, but merely 


the everyday life of the husbandman, and it was 
called the Corn Dance, and, as we shall see, it was 
danced by the leaders of the Chorus. And this is 
the way it was danced : One man pretends to be 
ploughing and sowing, and often turns round as if in 
fear of something, and another man comes dancing 
up to imitate a robber. And the ploughman, seeing 
the robber, takes up his arms, and they have a 
mimic fight, till at last the robber conquers, and binds 
the ploughman, and pretends to drive away his yoke 
of oxen. I And this was a very old dance, and 
doubtless dated from the earliest ages, when such 
simplicity of life prevailed ; so that even before the 
Hyporcheme took up heroic narratives as the theme 
of its action, we may assume a simple and primitive 
form of it, when it was occupied with such simple 
adventures as these. And those ancient songs that 
were sung at the cutting of the corn and the Harvest 
Home, we may well imagine to have been of the nature 
of the Hyporcheme, which if they were, it will explain 
why the Hyporcheme was sacred to Apollo,^ for he 
was the god of the Sun, who ripened the crops and 
made them yellow ; and so the Harvest songs were 
all sacred to him, and very likely, as we say, they 
were Hyporchemes. 

And the worship of Apollo, coming from Lycia, 
or the Land of Light, first appeared in Greece at Delos, 
or the Glittering Island, which is the place where you 
can first see the Sun, as it rises from the waters of 
the ^gean. And here had the Hexameter first been 
heard, which was the chant they sang in the Choral 

Xen. Anab. VI. I. 

Ponaldson's Pindar, p. 356. Art. Hyporcheme. 


Movement, as they moved round the altar of Apollo, 
which was made of the horns of goats, and was the 
first altar that was built to Apollo in Greece. And 
in the fervour of their worship, the Delians had 
developed those Imitative dances that we speak of to 
a high degree, expressing by their gestures as they 
danced the tales of Apollo that they sung. And 
there was boxing, and wrestling, and singing, and 
dancing at their festivals, and chief of all, the 
Hyporchemes. And the girls of Delos sang the 
Hyporchemes and danced them. And sometimes they 
would sing the wanderings of Leto, and then the 
stories of Artemis and Apollo. And such perfection 
did they arrive at, that not only the action itself 
was clearly expressed in the dance, but they imitated 
in different cadences and tones the voices of the 
various characters they presented, and there was 
nothing more wonderful than this, says the poet, and 
it was a delight for men to listen to them.i 

And from Delos Apollo came to Greece. And 
Zeus decked him with a golden head-dress, and gave 
him a lyre, and a chariot that was drawn by swans ; 
and thus equipped he bade him go to Delphi and 
the streams of Castalia, to give law and oracles to 
the Greeks. But Apollo, mounting his chariot, bid 
the swans draw him to the land of the Hyper- 
boreans ; and meanwhile the Delphians were waiting 
for him, having a paean ready to sing, and their lyres 
in their hands, and a chorus of youths and boys 

1 The Homeric Hymn to Apollo. 146. sq. Cf. line 162. 

TraVTMV S' avdphJTTWV (fxVVGQ KCli KpSILl[5aXia(TTVV 

jui/mdcrb^ "laauiv ' (^tah] de k^v avrbg eKacrrog 
(l>6tyye(jd^ ' ovtoj acpiv KoXi] avvaorjpev aoiSi], 


gathered round the sacred tripod, all waiting for 
Apollo to come. But he delayed a whole year 
among the Hyperboreans, and while he was there he 
shed tears of amber. But when the year ended, he 
ordered his swans to draw him to Delphi. And it 
was summer when he came, and so it was all a 
singing of summer songs and happy melodies, when 
Apollo came drawn in his chariot by a team of 
swans, that sang as they came gliding through the 
air, coming to Delphi from the land of the Hyper- 
boreans. And the nightingales, and the swallows, and 
the grasshoppers joined in harmonious notes to welcome 
Apollo to Delphi. And the fountain of Castalia, its 
waves turned into the purest silver, and the waters of 
the Cephissus ran purple to the sea. And this is the 
way that Apollo came to Delphi. ^ 

And the Dances of Delphi now far exceeded those 
of Delos, and like them they represented the 
adventures of Apollo. And many of them we hear 
of only by name, but one is particularly described to 
us, which is so elaborate that we must not forget to 
mention it. And it was a Hyporcheme, whose subject 
was Apollo's destruction of the Python, and his journey 
to Tempe to get purification for the deed, and his stay 
at Pherae on the way, where he remained for nine whole 
years, and tended the flocks of Admetus. And the 
Hyporcheme that presented this was so vividly con- 
ceived, and so elaborate, that it passes, as we shall see 
into a dramatic representation and religious ceremony. 
And there was the Python's Cave, and a boy to 
represent Apollo, and a band of flute-players and lyre- 

1 Alcseus in Himerius. Orat. XIV. Cf. also Callimaclnis' Hymn to 
Apollo. 5. and the Scholiast on Apollonius Rhodius. IV. 611. 


players, and a chorus of women, who led the boy into 
the cave, with burning torches to light them.^ And the 
flutes imitated the hissing of the Python. And then 
there was a mimic representation of a royal palace, and 
the women led the boy into the palace, with burning 
torches to light them. And after that the boy went in 
procession to Tempe amid troops of singers and dancers, 
and on his way he staid at Pherse, and imitated the 
servitude of Apollo to Admetus, pretending to feed 
sheep and to grind corn, and so from Pherse to Tempe, 
whence he returned amid troops of virgins, who 
escorted him on his way with hymns and dances, and 
he himself carried a laurel branch, for he was ^afjivrj- 
0opoc, or ' the laurel-bearer.' So that in this strange 
ceremony, which we are told took place every 9th year 
at Delphi, which is so strange a mixture of mimicry 
and religious ceremony, we may say indeed that we 
are face to face with an infant Drama. 

But this was the utmost which the worship of Apollo 
could do, for we are told of no similar thing ; and 
this we may well imagine to have gradually grown 
up from some simple Hyporcheme, and touching so 
celebrated an exploit, and being performed in the 
precincts of Delphi itself, and on the very spot where 
the exploit took place, to have little by little put on 
these elaborate trappings, which nowhere else we hear 
the Hyporchemes had ever done. And I say that this 
was the utmost the worship of Apollo could effect, for 
in no sense was the worship of Apollo an imitative 
worship — the imitations in the Hyporchemes themselves 

^ The account is given in Plutarch's De Defectu Oraculorum, Elian's 
Various Histories. III. and most minutely and critically in Muller's 
Dorians. II. As a rule I have followed yElian. 


was at the best a gentle and subdued imitation, and 
though they were sacred to him, they were in no sense 
the leading elements of his cult. He was the god of 
the Paean and the War Dance — the Spartans were his 
chosen people, and Dorian warriors fell with his name 
on their lips. Solemn hymns intoned at sacrifices 
were the offerings to him, and the firm tread of 
heroes marching to meet death was music to his ear. 
And in the gentler side of life, who were the followers 
of Apollo ? " And the followers of Apollo," says the 
greatest of them, " are chaste priests, and pious bards, 
who earn their renown by doing glorious things." 
And the ideal of Apollo's worship in Life was Bravery 
and Endurance, and in Art it was Creation, And it 
seems there are always two orders of minds among 
men, the Creative, and the Imitative, or Receptive. 
And the first is higher than the second. And these 
were they to whom the worship of Apollo appealed. 
And thus he was the god of the bards and 
rhapsodists, who moved unruffled through the storms 
of life, taming and subduing their souls. 

These were not the elements to encourage or 
produce an Imitative spirit in his worship, for the 
spirit of self-restraint must be strong in men like 
these. And Imitation is by contrast an unbridling of 
the soul, it is the gaiety and wantoning of the mind, 
and to incline to it by nature is to lack the power 
or the will to subjugate the spirits and bend them to 
high purposes ; and they so run and riot in our little 
frames that everything higher than the pleasure of the 
moment is forgotten, and we pass our lives in a 
constant whirl of petty excitements, preferring to follow 
in the general swim, which is easy and careless, than 
to carve out with labour a passage for ourselves. 
And this is the mental attitude which is the Receptive 


cast of mind, and this appearing, I say, in Art, will 
infallibly see its highest aim in Imitation. 

And Imitation is a distrust of oneself, and a desire 
to be like other people. And it is Hesitation incarnate, 
and Cowardice transfigured. 

What then was the Religion that was so opposite to 
the Religion of Apollo, that exalted those very qualities 
which he abased, and found its highest joy in undoing 
what he had done ? And this was the religion of 
Bacchus which did this.^ And the story goes, that 
Theseus came from Crete, carrying Ariadne with him, 
who was the daughter of the king of Crete. But 
he left her at Naxos, sailing away while she was 
asleep, and proceeding to Athens by himself And 
meanwhile Bacchus, having completed the conquest of 
India, and now voyaging among the Cyclades, arrived 
at a different side of the island, and coming with his 
rout through the woods, arrived at the very place 
where Ariadne was sleeping. And there she lay fast 
asleep, and here are Bacchus and his panthers moving 
towards her, as soft as mice ; and he has thrown off 
his fawnskin, and laid down his thyrsus, and the 
Bacchantes keep their cymbals quiet, and the Satyrs 
their pipes ; even Pan treads delicately, for fear he 
should wake the sleeping girl. And Bacchus, robed 
in purple and crowned with roses, steals towards her. 
And as she lies, one breast is bare, and all that side 
down to her waist, and so is her neck bare too, and 
her soft throat. And her right hand is thrown back, 
and you can see her beautiful armpit, but her left 
hand is placed over her garment, as if for fear the 

^ The story of Vulcan giving Bacchus a mirror admirably hits off the 
imitative character of his worship. Plotinus tells it. IV. 3. 12. 


impudent wind may do what it ought not.^ How 
lovely is her breathing, and how sweet her breath ! 
But whether it smells of apples or of grapes, you 
will know, Bacchus, when you have kissed her. 

This was the rout that was on its way to Apollo's 
Greece. Nor was it long after that they arrived. 
And Bacchus with Ariadne by his side, and riding 
in a chariot drawn by tigers, went in triumphal 
procession up and down Greece. And those who 
would not receive his worship he drove mad. And 
he drove the Spartan women mad, and the women 
of Argos too ; and in other Peloponnesian cities the 
women ran naked in their frenzy through the streets.^ 
And how did he punish the Theban women who would 
not receive him ? For as they sat spinning in their 
chambers, ivy and vines began to crawl round their 
spindles, snakes crept in and out of their baskets, 
and wine and milk fell in great drops from the 
ceiling. And they must needs frantic from their houses 
to the mountains, and join in the orgies with the rest. 
And now the flute and tambourine were heard whistling 
and clattering in every city, and everywhere was the 
blazing altar, and the dithyrambic dance sweeping 
madly round it. And there was staggering and 
hiccuping enough, and tipsy gravity, and bold obscenity. 
And the song they sang as they reeled round the 
altar was a hymn in praise of Bacchus, and they 
hiccuped it out as they reeled round the altar. And 
sometimes in their tipsy frolics they would mimic the 
appearance of Bacchus' drunken train, and wrap them- 
selves in goatskins to be like the Satyrs, or in 

1 This is the description of Philostratus in his Eicons. Cf. a similar 
passage in Libanius' 9th Declamation. 

2 See the stories in -Elian's Various Histories. 


fawnskins/ and smear their faces with wine-lees or 
soot, or put leaves over their faces, or pieces of 
bark ; ^ and in this odd disguise they would dance 
round in the firelight, a motley band. And then the 
leaders of the dance would pretend that they were 
engaged in one of the thousand adventures that 
Bacchus and his Satyrs had figured in, as they would 
pretend to be making love to Erigone, or making 
the shepherds drunk who killed Icarius, or fighting 
the Indians, or pretending to be bound by Pentheus, 
and they would interrupt the drunken hymn every 
now and then with short snatches of songs, that they 
made up on the spur of the moment, in keeping 
with the characters that they assumed. And so it went 
on all the summer. But when the winter came, 
Bacchus died, for a Boar comes and wounds him every 
year, and he must needs pass for four months to the 
lower world, where he lies renewing his immortality 
against the springtime. Weep then and lament for 
the dead Bacchus ! And so their joy gave place to 
dirges, and maudlin tears, and drunken bowlings, for 
the king of all joy is dead, and we may never see 
his beauty again. For who is Bacchus but the 
Summer Sun, that makes the grapes big and purple, 
and shines and glitters in his beauty, whole three 
seasons long. But when the winter comes, it comes 
as a boar, and wounds him, and his blood makes 
the Sun a winter red, and the dead Bacchus becomes 
Adonis. And well is he called Adonis, for the 
winter Sun is more lovely than the summer sun, but 
for all that, it is a dead one. And so the earth is 

1 The fawnskin in Homer is a symbol of cowardice. Perhaps the use 
of fawnskins may have been in allusion to the same idea. 
'^ Oraque corticibus sumunt horrenda cavatis. 


covered with snow and caked with frost, and all the 
while Bacchus lies in the lower world, renewing his 
immortality against the springtime. And how does 
he lie ? And he lies on beds of gillyflowers and roses, 
and canopies of soft dill are above his head, and 
little Cupids, like so many nightingales, flutter round 
him, and perch on the boughs of the trees. Oh ! 
ebony, and gold, and the gleam of white ivory ! 
What are the gleam of all these to the palace where 
Bacchus is lying with Venus by his side, who winds 
her snowy arms round him, passing all her time at 
his side. And his kiss is as soft as a woman's or a 
boy's, for the down is still on his lip. 

So Bacchus is dead, and the women sing ' Come let 
us mourn for him, and beat our breasts, and toss our 
hair dishevelled in the wind, and let us start our sad 
lament.' And the drunken Dithyramb too puts on a 
sadder guise, and it is some sad adventure of the satyrs 
and their god that they mimic now, and they sing how 
he is dead, and may never rise again, while the snow 
comes fluttering down among their midnight altar fires. 

And this was the legend, and how they conceived 
it, of the first planting of the grape in Greece. For 
if Bacchus was the sun that brought the grape to 
ripeness, he was also identified with the grape itself. 
And by an easy transition, such as so often admits 
itself in religious mythology, the circumstances of 
one incarnation were with little variety transferred 
to the other, which is always easy, I say, because 
they are both the operations of the same Nature. 
For as the sun has its summer, and its death in 
winter, so has the grape its summer while it hangs 
on the bough, and its death when it is cut down at 
the time of vintage. And the cutting of the grape 
was the death of Adonis, and the red wine was his 


blood.i And then he lay beneath the earth till the 
next spring time, and no one knew where, but it was 
all among the flowers, that is, among that pale troop of 
sleepers, who are the seeds of winter, but will be the 
flowers and fruits of summer. And then do they all 
arise, and chief among them the infant Bacchus, to 
whom the Nymphs are given as nurses, because water 
makes the vines to grow,^ and Silenus as his tutor, who 
was the deity of the running streams. And he appears in 
the arms of Mercury, the messenger of the gods, because 
the grape is the best gift which heaven sends to man. 
But the goat-like Satyrs and the raving Maenads are 
the trophies and companions of his conquest, for when 
at last he comes in his glory and conquers all the world, 
what is it but the cup of Circe that he offers us, which 
changes us to beasts, and drives us mad who take it ? 

And if we would complete our knowledge of the 
religion of Bacchus^ and also see its musical aspect 
more clearly, we must not fail to consider it as the 
direct development of those hoary religions of a remote 
antiquity, that first attempted to systematise the 
religious conceptions of men : which laid it down that 
the vital principle of the Universe is the principle of 
Generation, which appears in the umbratile language of 
Philosophy as the principle of Love, but in those ancient 
times was expressed under the mysterious symbols of the 
Bull and the Serpent, symbols before which speculation 
grows pale, to know in what night of antiquity they 
originated, and how they appear ramified and intertwined 

1 Porphyry, In Euseb. Prsep. Evang. III. ii. identifies Adonis with 
the cut grape and Bacchus with the young grape. 

- Bacchus amat colles, and therefore the Oreads are perhaps most 
appropriate. But no distinction is made, and we may choose whom 
we like. 


among all the religions of the world. And since the 
Sun may well be held to be the author of all earthly 
life, so did he receive these for his symbols, and in 
Greece no less than in those ancient nations with 
whom religion began. Thus is Bacchus sometimes 
presented with a Bull's head, and the women of Troezen 
invoked him to come to his altar by the sea, pawing 
the 'ground with his hoof.^ And how the Maenads 
carried serpents in their hand we may now understand. 
And also the goatlike appearance of the Satyrs, for 
the goat Avas the more delicate symbol for the Bull, 
and as such was generally substituted for it in Greece.^ 
Lord, therefore, of generation, and source of all 
life, he performed his annual marriage with the earth, 
which is the laughing Venus, or Ariadne, who was the 
Naxian Venus. Which was but a replication of that 
first great marriage, that was consummated, when the 
power of Love descended upon Chaos, and gave it 
shape and order. In memory of which, agreeably to 
the precepts of Orpheus, a mash or olla of all 
herbs and roots 3 was made at the Bacchic mysteries, to 
represent the condition of all things, before Love, or 
Harmony, began. Of this the initiated partook. 

1 Compare the Orphic fragment, " Come, blessed Dionysus, born of 
fire, with tlie bull's forehead." 

2 The typical satyr was the god Pan — he was the satyr kiug. The 
satyrs like him had horns of goats and goats' legs and pointed ears. 
It is unnecessary to go into the evident allusion. 

3 Tlie KUfCEwi' — which is the aloXov ayyog of Orpheus, and the 
" Bowl " of Hermes Trismegistus, Avhich he tells us Isis mixed. From repre- 
senting Chaos or the Pythagorean 2, which as I remember is also the number 
in the Orphic fragments, and which is the type of the female, it 
passed into a mystic symbol of the " yoni," reappearing as such in the 
bowls of the Gnostics, and later on in the Holy Grail. For a 
discussion of this, see Hammer Purgstaal's Mysterium Baphometis 


eating it out of drums and cymbals,^ for these 
instruments received a mystic meaning, being designed 
to typify the power of Music, which fetched the brew 
and mash of Cliaos into order and harmony.^ And 
his instrument was the Flute, which is the seductive 
instrument of Love, and he was typified as the 
Androgyn, wliich is the union of male and female, 
and is also the secret conception of Music, which is 
composed of a male and a female element, and his 
dance was the Dithyramb, or round dance, which, 
sweeping round and round the blazing altar, was held a 
mystic representation of the Dance of the planets and 
the stars, which sweeps circling round and round the 
central fire. This, then, was the religion of Bacchus, so 
inextricably connected as it is with Music, and what 
fortunes awaited it in Greece, it will be our business 
now to show. 

And the history of the Dithyramb we have already 
given in part, and we have seen that its immediate 
effect on Greek Music was to bring about that free 
interchange of time, which we called the Metabole, 
which obviously arose from the hurried and excited 

■■■ E/c TVfnravov e(j)Ciyov, ek KVf.ipaXov Ittiov. Clemens 
Alexand. Cohort, ad Gent. p. 14. 

- There seems little doubt, I think, that the Pagan religion in its 
most esoteric form, as it appears with Pythagoras, for instance, and in 
the mysteries, was first organised by Orpheus. We shall never know 
our obligations to that celebrated man, who has passed away and left 
so few traces for us to know him by. It was at any rate a common 
opinion with the Fathers that Orpheus was- the prime exponent of the 
Pagan faith, e.g. Gregory Nazianzen, Kara(3a\e rovQ TpiTTToXifiovg 
GOV Koi Tovg /xvuTLKOvg dpUKOVTag. al(T')(yv9r)TL irore Ta7g 

TOV OaoXoyov (jov (5i(3XoLg 'Op^ewc, and certain of the Orphic 
forgeries point in the same direction. Diogenes Laertius in his preface 
is one of the few that have done him justice. 


steps of the Dithyrambic dancers in the fury of that 
wild dance they performed in. But there is another, 
and still more important development of the Dithyramb, 
which we must now consider. For the mimicry which 
the dancers indulged in, and their strange dresses, and 
odd gestures, grew so popular with the people, that 
at every festival and meiTy-making there was the 
cry for Bacchus and his goats, for it was not unlike 
our Jack-in-the-Green to them, or like the mummeries 
of the Carnivals. But particularly at the wealthy and 
luxurious city of Sicyon were they in great demand, 
and while Praxilla, the poetess, and other admirable 
musicians, were there to furnish excellent music to 
the dance, Epigenes was the first who did justice to 
its mimic character, and under his hands it grew 
from a dance into a regular performance. He would 
supply words and music, I imagine, to the leaders 
of the dance, who henceforth would use what he 
gave them, instead of relying on the invention of 
the moment, as they had formerly done. Epigenes 
would very likely arrange the outline of the tale 
they were to mimic, and rehearse them in their parts ; 
and such success did he have, that in no long time 
a regular school of writing for these Satyric songs 
and dances arose in Sicyon under the tutelage of 
Epigenes, which henceforth began to be known as 
Tragedies, which means Goat Songs, being called so 
from the Goats, or Satyrs, that sang and danced in 
them. I And they were danced round the blazing 

1 Here and in much that follows I have not thought it necessary 
to add notes, because many of the facts have been the commonplaces 
of scholars since the times of Bentley. In carrying the development 
through the Lyric Tragedy of Sicyon I am following I think the best 
lines, for I do not think Hermann has proved his point about it at 


altar of Bacchus to the accompaniment of the Flute. 
And this was the first reformation, which the tipsy 
dance of Bacchus received in that beautiful land of 
Greece it had travelled to. 

And meanwhile there had been improvements intro- 
duced into it in Corinth under the influence of Arion 
who had not gone so far as Epigenes indeed, but 
had introduced improvements in another way. For in 
order to tone down the revelry, he had substituted 
the Lyre for the Flute as the accompaniment of the 
dance, and what was even more telling he had introduced 
the figures of some of the Dorian dances into it. 
We are told that he eanias x^f^"^' which may either 
mean that he introduced an Epode, or Standing Part, 
between the Turn and Counter-turn (Strophe and 
Antistrophe), or what is more probable, that he set 
it in quadrangular form, Iv Terpaycovio, after the manner 
of the Dorian dances. And that this is the more 
probable will appear from the number of dancers he 
employed ; for he had 50 dancers, which is the exact 
number of the Spartan Pentecostys, with which the 

all, and since his time tlie Lyrical Tragedy of Sicyon has been taken up 
by many scholars, and nursed into unimpeachable existence. And indeed 
how else conid we get over the time when jLlovoc, 6 ^(OpoQ ciecpa- 
fxuriC,^, to quote Diogenes Laert. and the rj TTuXai rpaycodia Ik 
\opwv avv£i(7Ti]KH of Athenseus ? Let alone the rpaytjodiag svpsraX 
p.i:V ^LKVWvioi, so that in any case we must begin at Sicyon. In 
one point has the writer differed much from the opinion of some, for 
some would treat the Dithyramb as a measured dance from the first, refusing 
to consider it before Arion's time at all, which seems weak. He may 
say that many of the succeeding facts about the development of Tragedy 
are directly drawn from Donaldson's admirable " Theati'e," and this will 
be an additional reason why he need not add notes which have been 
so well done by one of the greatest of English scholars. He will only 
add them when anything new is being advanced, which seems to require 
support or illustration. 


Pyrrhic was danced. So that it is most probable 
that Arion's innovation had best be described as giving 
a square figure to the Round Dithyramb.^ 

For now had the struggle begun in earnest between 
the worship of Apollo and the worship of Bacchus, so 
opposed as they are in all points, and in no way 
more pointedly so than in their typical dances that 
were sacred to each. For in the Round Dance, man 
abandons himself to the attraction of external nature, 
and suffers himself to be drawn in the whirl of the 
other atoms that constitute the universe, which are all 
for ever whirling round and round in the Dance of 
the Cosmos — and in the Round Dance he abandons 
himself to the universal motion. And this is the 
Dance of Bacchus, which is the Dance of gaiety and 
abandon. But in the Square Dance he sets himself in 
petty opposition to the motion of Nature, and carves 
out a form for himself And this was the Dance of 
Apollo, which was the Dance of heroes and Spartan 
warriors. And now then the dances of Apollo began 
to make head against the dances of Bacchus, and 
the Dithyramb now received the Square Form, and was 
danced to the Lyre instead of the Flute. And whether 
this change was well received in Sicyon, and had 
already entered there in the time of Epigenes, we 
cannot say. But most likely it had. For though 
there was an admixture of Achaean blood in the 
population of Sicyon, the ruling class, who led the 
movements of taste and fashion, were of pure Dorian 
race, and would readily admit Dorian forms into their 

^ I cannot say how far this explanation of £(7rrj(T£ yogov may be 

justified. But we have to account for the Square form getting into 
the Dithyramb, and the suggestive coincidence of tlie 50 dancers seems 
to mark this as the most hkely epoch. 


institutions. So tliat probably tlie Square form of 
Dance, wlien once it liad taken sliape in Corinth, 
was from thence passed on to Sicyon, and naturahsed 
there, if not in the time of Epigenes himself, at least 
in the time of those Sicyonian musicians who succeeded 
him. For there were 14 Sicyonian writers of Tragic 
or Goat Dances, whose names were preserved in the 
archives of Sicyon, and these all belonged to the 
school of Epigenes, and carried on his treatment of 
the Dithyrambic Chorus, doubtless, as we say, not 
without the benefit of Corinthian influence, which 
would bring Dorian ideas to bear more and more on 
Sicyonian art, and bring the dances of Bacchus ever 
nearer to the dances of Apollo. And now these Tragic 
Choruses, disseminating themselves from Sicyon, spread 
themselves through most cities of the Peloponnesus. We 
hear of them at Orchomenus : we also have tidings of 
them at Sparta itself The foremost poets of the day 
began to write them. Simonides wrote many of them, 
Pindar tried his hand at them, and the Choruses 
of Stesichorus are, many of them, not to be 
distinguished from the Sicyonian Tragic Choruses, 
who we may presume to have infused the element 
of the Dorian war dances still more potently into his 
choruses, for it was a saying that Stesichorus' dances 
were " all in eights." Now this was the favourite 
order of the Spartan company in the battle-field, files 
of eight with three abreast,^ and doubtless a similar 
order was a favourite one of the war dances, from 
which presumably Stesichorus derived his idea. 

1 This was the Kara rpug of Xenophon, which was the more favourite 
form (jElian's Tactics. 26. 27.) MilUer also quotes passages in his 
Dorians. III. 247. to the same effect. 


In this way we have the Dithyramb martialised by 
Dorian influences, and the strange spectacle was seen 
of Bacchus' motley followers, still habited in their 
goatskins and grotesque adornments, but no longer 
moving in wild confusion in drunken dances, but 
instead stepping the artistic figures of the military 
drill, and in all respects assimilated to it, not only in 
the figures they danced, but also in their numbers, for 
they danced fifty together, which was the number of 
the Spartan Pentecostys, and most of the war dances 
were probably danced in companies of fifty. 

These tragic choruses of Sicyon, then, attained great 
popularity in the cities of the Peloponnesus. And it 
was about this time that Cleisthenes, the tyrant of 
Sicyon, had proclaimed at the Olympic games that he 
would give his daughter in marriage to the worthiest 
of the Greeks, and having selected Hippocleides, the 
Athenian, as the worthiest, and having been egregiously 
deceived in his choice — and how he was so, we have 
said in a former chapter — having been deceived in 
Hippocleides, then, he afterwards resolved to give her 
in marriage to Megacles, the Athenian, who was the 
leader of the democratic party at Athens. And to 
the intercourse which this brought about between 
the two cities we must refer what occurred in due 
course — namely, the arrival of the Sicyonian tragic 
choruses at Athens. 

Now at Athens the religion of Bacchus had met 
with little favour compared to what it had in other 
cities. Nor were the Athenians, being lonians, such 
patrons of the Choral Dance as the people of the 
Peloponnese. For it should seem that the genius 
of the lonians, following in the wake of Homer, 
who is the typical Ionian, was more inclined to Epic 
minstrelsy, and that the Dance and the Lyric Song 

M M 


were peculiarily Dorian. What then found favour at 
Athens, and had done so from the earliest times, 
was not Dances and Choruses, but the recitations of 
Rhapsodists, who chanted the poems of Homer and 
other poets, arrayed in gorgeous dresses,^ and seated in 
commanding positions in the centre of the assembly 
that stood around to hear them. The contests of the 
rhapsodists were to the Athenians what the Choral 
Dances were to the Dorians, and when we remember 
that Athens was bold enough to lay claim to the 
birthplace of Homer himself, we may well surmise that 
an unbroken tradition of rhapsodic recitation had 
maintained itself here from the earliest times, and had 
established itself as the soul of the Athenian music. 
This, too, was the music of Apollo, and perhaps a 
purer form of it than even the war dances of the 
Dorians ; and in the temple of Artemis at Brauron 
the Iliad was recited whole at festivals, and here 
doubtless some of the most famous contests took 

And if the rhapsodical contests were always in 
high favour at Athens, particularly were they so at 
present, for this was the age of Pisistratus, to which 
is referred the collection and publication of the poems 
of Homer. There was a great literary revival at this 
time in Athens, which spread from the upper classes 
to the lowest ranks of the people. What a literary 
age was this when political measures were justified 
by quotations from Homer, as Solon justified his 
seizure of Salamis by forging two verses in the Iliad ! 
and we know what an effect his recitation of some 
verses of Homer had on another occasion in allaying 

1 The (TKevij. 


the anger of the populace. It was at this period, 
too, that that law was passed to which we have 
before alluded, that every Athenian boy must commit 
so many verses of Homer to memory, as the chief 
part of his education. Solon, indeed, even more than 
Pisistratus, stands out as a promoter of this Epic 
renaissance, and we hear, among other things that he 
did, how he would write out selections from Homer 
in such a way that they could be recited by two or 
more rhapsodists in the form of a dialogue,^ that is, 
I imagine, he would omit the narrative parts, and 
each, rhapsodist would have a speech assigned him, 
as one would speak the part of Agamemnon, and the 
other that of Achilles. And we may well suppose 
that they employed all the arts of dramatic recitation 
and gesture to give effect to their words.^ 

It was at this period, then, and when such feelings 
were abroad, that the entertainment of Bacchus and 
his goats came capering in tragic choruses from Sicyon ; 
though some would have it that it was in Attica 
before, but did not come into notice till just now. 
And the man who brought it into notice was named 
Thespis, and he was a native of Icarius, which was 
a village of Attica, and some say he was a rhapsodist 

1 Apparently the plirase in Diogenes Laertius must be given up as 

hopeless — £s VTTOpoArjg. I have not hesitated however to translate it as 

VTroXapovTag, which is the general rendering, though at best 

2 The Athenian natural aptitude or genius for the dialogue form is a 
point that I think is often overlooked. We may see it appearmg all 
through the Attic literature, in Philosophy, as Plato, in History, as 
Thucydides his speeches, and very emphatically in such passages as the 
Melian controversy at the end of the 5th book, &c. 


by profession/ but this we cannot certainly tell. But 
being bred in the land of rhapsodists, and living in an 
age when the taste for Epic recitation was so strong 
as at the present, he could not but be deeply imbued 
with the spirit of the rhapsody, and in this way he 
conceived the idea of introducing it into the Tragic 
Chorus. And while they, in the garb of goats and 
satyrs, danced round the altar of Bacchus, he would 
stand on the steps of the altar, and in the pauses of 
the dance would recite some tale in connection with 
the story of Bacchus, which they were singing and 
mimicking ; and sometimes he would carry on a 
dialogue with them, and there would be question 
and answer, and a great deal of liveliness was thus 
introduced into the performance. And Thespis, in order 
to carry out his part better, for from narrating he 
soon got to assuming one of the characters in the 
story, used to paint his face, or stick leaves of 
purslain over it, and afterwards he made masks of 
linen, and in this way he could assume more 
characters than one, by changing mask after mask. 
And then with his company of satyrs he would go 
round to the village festivals, that were held at the 
vintage and the tapping of the wine, in honour of 
Bacchus, where they jumped over greased wineskins,^ 
and had drinking matches for prizes; and standing on 
the steps of the altar of Bacchus, with his satyrs 
round him, he would give his entertainment. But 
where there was no altar, he would make a table 

1 This is Donaldson's opinion. The passage in Aristophanes' "Wasps 
that he quotes in support of it is really no support at all. I think a 
much more su<;gestive point to press would be the connection of the 
rhapsodist, Arion, with the Dithyramb, and work it up from there. 

* The Ascoliasmus. Inter pocula Iseti MolUbus in pratjs unctos 
saluere per utres- 





serve instead, or a cart, for he must needs be 
elevated above the rest, for they were to dance about and 
make a thousand antic gestures, while he was to perform 
a graver part, and it seems that he took his own cue 
from the exhibitions of the rhapsodists, who occupied 
a commanding position in the centre' of the crowd, 
that assembled round to hear them ; for he addressed 
his chorus of satyrs as if they were his audience, and 
they commented on what he said, and when their turn 
came would relieve him of his part by an elaborate 
dance, in which they sang some lyric ode in connection 
with what he had been reciting, dancing 50 in number 
round the altar,i though in the square figures of the 
Dorian war dances, as at Sicyon. And the structure 
of Thespis' Tragedies, for this was the Greek name 
for Goat Songs, as we have said, was a very simple 
one, and we are particularly informed what it was. 
There was first the Prologue, which Thespis spoke by 
himself, in which he related the story that was the 
subject of the tragedy, and doubtless assumed the 
character of the chief personage in the story. And 
then there would be a Choral Dance and Song, the 
subject of which would be the adventures he had 
just recited. And after that would come a Dialogue 
between himself and the Chorus. And after that 
perhaps another Dance and Song by the Chorus to 


1 I imagine there can be little doubt that the numbers of Thespis' 
chorus were identical with those of Arion's, Avhich was the regular 
number of the Chorus till well on in the time of ^schylus. See infra, 
p. Juhus Pollux distinctly tells us that until then the Chorus was 

50 in number (to ce TraXaibv 6 rpayiKog X^P^^' TTEvr^jKOira lyacty 
aXpi rCjv 'EvfievL^MV 'AktxvXov. Jul. Pollux. IV. 16.) and we 
see no reason to doubt his assertion for a moment. The arguments of 
MiiUer in his Eumenides are far too clever to be of any weight. 


conclude. And what will concern us more than the 
structure of the Tragedy itself was the Music it 
employed. And the metre which Thespis used for his 
part was first the dancing Trochaic metre, —\j, which 
doubtless he had adopted to be in keeping with the 
dancing and merrymaking of the chorus that acted 
with him. But afterwards he substituted the Iambic 
metre for it, which was a staider and graver metre, and 
probably more to the taste of the time, for there 
was a great deal of didactic, or Gnomic poetry written 
at Athens at this time, and while the Hexameter 
had long passed into the region of the antique, and, 
though still preserved and popular in the rhapsodical 
contests, scarcely used at all by living poets, the 
Iambic Metre was the fashionable Metre of the day. 
Solon used it ; the Megarian Theognis also, who was 
a favourite poet of the Athenians ; Mimnermus of 
Smyrna — these and other celebrated poets had helped 
to render the Iambic Metre fashionable, and, as we 
say, it was the chief metre used at Athens by the 
poets of the day. It was therefore in compliance 
with the popular taste that Thespis substituted the 
Iambic Metre for the Trochaic, although the latter 
had the title of a long prescription in its favour, for 
it had been used by the leaders of the tragic choruses 
at Sicyon, before any regular actor took part in the 
performance like Thespis did, but now under Athenian 
influence it must give way to the Iambic. And the 
metre that the Chorus sang their song and danced 
to was that same development of the Dithyramb 
measure which we have already considered in the 
music of Pindar, which beginning with the simple 
Dithyrambic foot, _ww— , put on in course of time 
the trappings of the gayest freedom. And this was 
the metre of the Chorus Songs. But the influence 


of the Dorian War Dances on their figures and 
evolutions would doubtless teach them to add the 
Marching or Anapaestic Measure to their list of 
measures ; and so we must assume them to have 
varied their dances and songs by the mixture of 
gravity and lightness which this union would give 
them. And having first danced to the Accompaniment 
of the Flute, and afterwards to that of the Lyre in 
Sicyon and Corinth, we find them in Attica uniting 
the two accompaniments, and dancing to both Flute 
and Lyre, for it seems as if Attica was to be the 
place, and this Tragedy the converging point, in which 
all the styles and arts of Greek Music were to meet 
in harmonious union. 

And Thespis, then, passed his life wandering in the 
country districts of Attica, with his waggon and his 
troop of mummers, among the vineyards and fruit 
grounds, and the olive groves with their pale yellow 
flower, that stretch for miles and miles along the 
roads, contented with the humble applause of the 
vintage festivals, and little knowing what a future 
awaited his quaint contrivances. For it would be when 
he was an old man, or perhaps he was by this time 
dead, that great political changes took place in Athens, 
which were of incalculable importance to the fortunes 
of Music, For at this time it happened that Pisistratus, 
having risen to the supreme power in the state, and 
seeking to do honour to his own tribe, succeeded in 
establishing their religion as the religion of the state. 
And his tribe was the ^Egicores, or Goat Worshippers, 
and their religion . was the religion of Bacchus. Or 
perhaps it may have been from a wish to humble 
the aristocratical party in the eyes of the people that 
made him do this, for the Epic and the Rhapsody 
were the predilection of the aristocracy, in contra- 


distinction to the Satyric Dances, which were the 
favourite of the common people, and to play off the 
religion of Bacchus against the religion of Apollo and 
the Muses was a great political stroke on the part 
of Pisistratus, and that it was a direct blow at 
aristocratical influence we may well judge, when we 
find Cleisthenes of Sicyon suppressing rhapsodical 
contests at Sicyon avowedly for this reason, to 
diminish the aristocratical prestige. Which of the two 
explanations is the true one, or whether both 
may not have had their weight, the result in any 
case was this, that the religion of Bacchus was 
established as the state religion of Athens, and brought 
all its attendant circumstances in full force to the 

Now had this establishment of the Bacchic religion 
taken place earlier in history, we may well admire 
how different would have been the fate of that form 
of musical art which lay enshrined in that religion. 
For without concealing the fact any further, we may 
freely say, that in treating of the Bacchic Tragedy we 
are treating of the undoubted parent of the Modern 
Opera,! and I say that had the religion of Bacchus 
attained the footing of a State religion at Athens, 
before its dances and mimicry had attained that 
maturity which they received under the tutelage of 
Thespis, Tragedy would have grown up in a very 
different form to what we shall find it did grow up in. 
For lacking the infusion of rhapsodical recitation, it 
would have been a purely choral performance from 
first to last, not much above in dramatic spirit the 

1 See the whole question discussed in Galilei's Dialogo della Musica. 
p. 145. sq. Florence edition. 


Dorian Hyporchemes, or like the Tragic Choruses of 
Sicyon, never getting beyond a dancing spectacle. 
Perhaps even the Lyre might have been denied 
admission to its music, for the permanent establish- 
ment of the Lyre seems certainly due to rhapsodical 
influence ; for that was only a temporary entrance 
which Arion effected for it, since even at Sicyon we 
know they often went back to the Flute. So that the 
fate of Tragedy might have been very different, had 
the Religion of Bacchus come to Athens in any force 
earlier in history. And had it received the encourage- 
ment it was now to receive, before it had benefited 
by the infusion of Epic Art and the lessons which 
Thespis had taught it, it might have grown to an 
excellent mummery and drollery, but scarce would 
have influenced the future world in the astounding 
way we know it has done. 

But now then it came to Athens disciplined and 
refined by the influence of a higher creed, and in the 
set form that it had received from the influence of a 
great mind. The innovations of Thespis were too 
popular to let die. Wherever the Goats danced, there 
was the rhapsodist, disguised and painted and hardly 
recognisable, but still there, declaiming and taking 
his part in their performance. And in this form did 
Tragedy come to Athens. For the innovations of 
Thespis, as I say, were too popular to die, and 
besides he left disciples behind him. And chief among 
them Phrynichus, who excelled his master in the 
sweetness of his melodies, and his skill in devising 
figure-dances. And under the tutelage of Phrynichus 
the Satyrs almost put off their levity, for he taught 
them to dance with such grace, that their uncouth 
forms curled about like the waves that are seen in 
the night time, and the mazes and cotillons that they 


trod were as innumerable as the waves also. And the 
songs they sang came like honey off their tongue, and he 
was the bee that made it. And Phrynichus also was the 
first who used women's masks for the actor ; for Thespis 
had had all men's masks, and did not introduce any 
women characters at all. But Phrynichus introduced 
women into the story, and by a change of mask the 
actor was enabled to represent them. And was it in the 
time of Phrynichus, or was it even so early as the 
days of Thespis himself, that for the sake of novelty 
and avoiding an oft repeated theme, the poet would 
sometimes use other stories besides the adventures of 
Bacchus, as the subject of his tragedy ; which when 
the people heard, they would cry out in the middle, 
' What has this to do with Bacchus ? ' for they were 
so fond of Bacchus and his goats that they desired 
no other. But nevertheless this was a thing most 
likely to come, that the adventures oi Bacchus should 
in course of time be worn threadbare, and that the 
poet should desire some newer subject to exercise his 
talents on. And certainly Phrynichus set himself against 
the popular taste in this matter, for many of his 
tragedies that we know by name have little or no 
connection with the adventures of Bacchus. While 
other writers, on the other hand, complied with the 
people's taste and kept to the original subject, of 
whom Choerilus was the chief, for he was called the 
King of the Goats or Satyrs. But in all cases, 
whatever the subject of the tragedy, the chorus was 
always composed of Goats ; and it must have been a 
strange spectacle to see some high adventure of the 
heroes declaimed and acted in various characters by 
the actor, while the chorus of Goats, who had no 
connection with the tale, joined with him in dialogue 
at certain parts ; as, for instance, in that play of 


Phrynichus, the Andromeda, where the actor would be 
now Andromeda, now Perseus, or Cepheus, uttering 
solemn soliloquies or high-sounding prayers, and the 
Goats taking their part in the action when their time 
came, as if they were Courtiers, or Sea gods, or 
whatever were the appropriate company that the 
actor was in. But this anomaly, which lasted for 
some time, and doubtless was often regarded as a 
great oddity, was set at rest by the expedient of 
Pratinas, the Phliasian, one of the contemporaries of 
Phrynichus, who knowing how much . the people liked 
the Goat Choruses, and that they would be unwilling 
to be deprived of them, if indeed the festivals would 
be complete without them, he devised this plan : He 
wrote his plays in pairs, and the first one he would 
have on what subject he liked, but the second he 
always had on the adventures of Bacchus, and in this 
one he had the chorus of goats. ^ So that by this 
means he got the liberty of forming the chorus in 
his first play of whom he liked, since the goats were 
always promised to follow, and he formed it as we 
may suppose of people who were more or less 
concerned in the plot of the story, but by no means 
intimately concerned, for we must not think that, for 
to the last the chorus remained true to the character in 
which Thespis had constituted it, namely, that of being 
the ideal audience whom the rhapsodist addressed. And 
so in his play of Alcestis he would make the chorus 

1 This assertion about Pratinas wilting his plays in pairs is merely a 
theory. The utmost we are told of him is that he separated the Satyric 
Drama from the Tragedy, and made two distinct things of them. But I 
think we may well see here the embryo of that form which afterwards 
resulted in the uEschylean Tetralogy. 


consist of Old Men of the city, perhaps, who might 
well be supposed to appear in the place, although they 
do not come directly into the plot of the tale at all ; 
in his Callisto of Maidens, and so on. But by this 
means he at least got a consistency of surrounding for 
his characters, and did away with that anomaly of a 
Chorus of Goats appearing in the Temple of Delphi, 
if the action of the play were supposed to lie there, 
or in the palace of King Adrastus. And these plays 
of Pratinas that he wrote in pairs were called the first 
the Tragedy, and the second, a Satyric Drama, and 
by this latter name was the goat play always known 
in future, for this began to be the custom of poets 

And the plays were acted at Athens, as we say, 
at the festivals of Bacchus, and drew crowds of people 
from all parts to see them. And the chorus was 
stationed round the altar of Bacchus, but the actor 
instead of a table or a cart was now provided with 
a wooden stage. And this is the way that the plays 
of Phrynichus, Choerilus, and Pratinas were all acted. 
And also the early plays of yEschylus. For by 
this time ^schylus was exhibiting. And he was the 
son of a vineyard keeper, and passed his boyhood in 
watching the grapes. And it is said that sitting 
idling among the vineyards he conceived the idea of 
devoting himself to the god of the vintage, and 
becoming the high priest of his worship. And there 
was a book that he continually read while he sat 
among the grapes, and this was the poems of Homer. 
They say- that the poems of Homer first inspired him 
to write poetry, and he had resolved to dedicate 
himself to the service of Bacchus. 

In this way he proceeded a writer of tragedy, into 
which it was his constant endeavour to infuse the 


spirit of the ancient minstrelsy. " My plays," he said 
in after times, "are but the shreds and scraps from 
the great feast of Homer." And let us see how he 
worked out his idea. And first we may notice it in 
a constant straining after colossal effect, which led 
him to write his plays in sets of threes, so as to 
give breadth and an Epic character to them, and the 
sets were called Trilogies^ to which a Satyric Drama 
was always added, after the fashion of Pratinas which 
made them indeed sets of four, and so called 
Tetralogies. And next, to give dignity to the actor, 
and to make him like those heroic figures he designed 
him to represent, he increased the height of the sole of 
the boot that the actor wore, and also added a high 
forehead to the mask, so that the actor grew to a 
colossus instead of a man, a bodily resemblance to 
those majestic figures, Avho move in the poems of 
Homer. Nor must we forget the pompous diction, and 
the '^roaring, mouth-filling, precipice words. '^i All these 
were the armoury of ^schylus, and thus he set about 
his task to raise the tragedy which he found in 
Athens to be a gorgeous spectacle of gods and heroes. 
Now at this time it happened that during a 
performance of a tragedy of Pratinas, the wooden 
stage gave way, and caused the death of a number 
of people that were standing round. The idea of 
building a theatre to Bacchus had doubtless long 
been in the minds of the Athenians, but this 
accident seems to have determined them, and they 
entered on the task in a spirit of Persian pomp. 
And the site that was chosen for the theatre was 
on the South Eastern side of the Acropolis, and 

^ -ipo^ov 7r\i(i)v, aTOfxt^aKa, KprjfivoTroiov 


they chose a hill side, so that the seats might be 
cut in tiers out of the hill. And they cut them to 
hold 30,000 people, which was three-fourths of the 
total number of Athenian citizens,^ for now that the 
travelling tragedies were to cease, and there was only 
to be one performance at each of the festivals of 
Bacchus, room must be found for all, and the 
Tragedy must be turned into a National spectacle. 
This too was the glorious dawn of Athenian liberty, 
when the tyrants had been expelled from Athens, and 
what so noble an inauguration to the coming age of 
liberty as this temple of a national spectacle, which 
all might meet in common to enjoy ? Indeed this 
building of the Great Theatre of Bacchus at this 
particular period in Athens' history, is singularly 
suggestive of the feelings that doubtless then filled 
every Athenian breast. 30,000 seats, then, were cut in 
tiers in the side of the hill, and in a great open 
space below them, not unlike the arena of our circuses, 
only it had wings which ours has not, was the large 
flat ground where the chorus was to go through its 
evolutions. In the centre of which rose the Altar of 
Bacchus, on which an aromatic gum was kept burning 
during the performances,^ in remembrance of those 
ancient times when the blazing altar was circled 
round by the Dithyramb. Fronting the seats, but in 
the far distance it would seem to the spectators, so 
big was that large open space where the Chorus 
was to dance, for it was as big as a small cricket- 

1 Reckoning the entire free population at 80,000 or 90,000, induding 
women and children. 

- AthenEeus. p. 627. This is a point that has been overlooked, 
especially by Miiller, who would make the leader of the Chorus stand on 
the top of the Altar. 


ground, being 130 yards across at its largest extent, 
which was across it sideways, and 60 or 70 yards 
across the other way, that is, towards the seats- 
fronting the seats, then, and on the other side of 
this " large open space, rose the stage, which was as 
high as the lowest seat of the tiers, and thus the 
open space was like a pit between. And behind the 
stage there was a large saloon for the actors and 
chorus, and there were property rooms to the right 
and left of it, and dressing rooms also. And behind 
all there was a large Park or lawn, set with trees, 
with a Portico all round it, for the chorus to rehearse 
their parts in, and this portico was continued all 
round up the hill, and enclosed the theatre right 

And this was the temple which ^schylus was to 
supply with Tragedies. And first he increased the 
number of actors, making two actors in the play 
now instead of one, that is, speaking actors, for 
supernumeraries he would bring on in crowds in 
his battle-pieces and processions.^ And next, I imagine, 
he invented that apparatus for increasing the volume 
of the voice, which was a speaking-trumpet inside the 
mask, by means of which the sound could carry to 
the farthest benches, that looked almost like specks 
from the stage.^ And then he padded the actors to 
make their size proportionate to their height, for 

1 Except for the break at the Eisodoi, the Eumenic Portico would 
have 'formed one piece with the upper portico. Cf. the passage m Plato's 

2 As the crowds he brings on with Agamemnon and Cassandra in 
the Agamemnon. 

3 The attribution of the speaking-trumpet to ^Eschylus is a conjecture, 
but in keeping with his other improvements. It must obviously have been 
used from the first in the Great Theatre, 


they were walking colossuses, and he must needs 
make their bulk to correspond.^ And he had chariots 
of griffins to bring gods riding through the air, and 
cradles of ropes to show them flying. And there were 
swings to dart an actor out suddenly from the top 
of the scene, as though he came from the clouds. 
And machines and pulleys to swing open the centre 
of the scene, which was generally the outside of a 
house, and disclose the interior to view. And he 
would bring in his great choruses of 50, covered with 
jingling bells and pieces of iron, and great Hippo- 
gryphs also, to produce a sensational effect among the 
audience. And other stories are told of him which 
show him in the light of a great strainer after 
pompous and sensational effect ; and these we shall not 
repeat here. 

So much had Tragedy grown in the interval between 
Thespis and ^schylus, by benefit of the patronage 
it received, after the religion of Bacchus had become 
the state religion of Athens, and also owing to the 
Cyclopean schemes of yEschylus, who has been called 

1 For the appearance of the tragic actors, cf. Lucian's Orches. 
wg doixOtg ci/ua koi ^o/SejOOI' Qiafxa Hq /.t^KO^ appvOfXOV 
ifiparcug vi/'rjXotc ewo)(^oviU£vog TrpoaCjirov virtp /c£0aXj]C 
civaTHvojiiivov iTriKetjusvog koi aTO/na Ke)(rivog Tra/ujUija (hg 
(caraTTio/^tevoc roue uearag ' l(o Xiyeiv Trpofmpvicia koX 
irpoyaarpwia, Trpocyuerriv /cai £7rtrf;^i' t'r rjv Tra^wrrjra irpoa- 
TTOiovinevog (l)g jurj tov /uriKOvg 1) dppvOfJiia Iv Xetttw 
IxakXov iAly^^oiro. Cf. a similar passage in his Anacharsis. 23. 

The dress of the actors was certainly the (TKevr) of the Rhapsodists, 
and this is a point that is often overlooked in the combination theory, 
for it was ribbed with gold, of purple, gay trimmings, gold 
ornaments, &c. 


the father of tragedy, because all its pomp and majesty 
and scenic effect were first created by him. 

And let us now turn our attention to the nature of the 
performance itself, and we shall see that it was partly 
like our opera and partly like our melodrama. For 
the actors declaimed in the manner of the Epic 
Rhapsodists, but more colloquially perhaps, and with 
less musical expression, as indeed the nature of the 
metre they used compelled them to do, which was a 
6 foot verse arranged in one Phrase of 6 bars, and 
in the Iambic measure, which was less inviting to 
musical expression than the rolling Hexameter of 
Homer. And we read that they sometimes chanted it 
and sometimes spoke it,^ and this interchange of Speech 
and Song would be determined by the character of the 
matter they were delivering, as in exalted and 
impassioned passages their voices would rise in the strains 
of solemn chanting and roll through the theatre,^ but in 
more colloquial parts they would adopt the tones of 
ordinary speech, as in the case of common dialogues or 
descriptive narrative. And this interchange of Speech 
and Song is what was known as the Paracataloge, and we 
have met it before in our history, and found that it was 
the invention of Archilochus, who would sometimes sing 
his Iambics and sometimes speak them, making speech 
and song alternate, which has a most pleasing effect, 
and being light and shade, as we may call it, brings out 
the song into more relief, and communicates a marvellous 
ease and unstudied grace to musical declamation, for it 
has the freedom of nature to recommend it. For we are 

* TiJjv lain(5d(i)v TO, /i£V XiyeaOai yrapa rriv Kpoixriv, to, C 
q.^£(TBai. Plutarch. De Mus. 28, 
^ 'in §£ /cat TTEjOt^Swv to, lajULJ^ua, Lucian, De Salt, 

N N 


not always singing, nor is life so blithe that we can 
imagine such light-heartedness perpetual, and where we 
find it, that is, if we had found it in Greek Tragedy, 
we might have been disposed to pronounce it unnatural ; 
but instead of that, we find a most excellent copy of 
nature, for speech was made to alternate with song, 
shadow to be the foil to light, commonplace with the 
sublime, and it seems that to know how to temper 
the cup of inspiration with this admixture of humbler 
ingredient is indeed the very highest secret of Art, for 
Art was never meant to intoxicate, which what is 
unnatural and strained surely does, but to have its true 
enjoyment we must now sink now rise, now melt now 
grow cold, and surely there was never a more perfect 
exposition of this principle than in the Paracataloge, or 
Alternate Speech and Song, of the Greek Drama.^ And 
the Iambic measure, which of itself inclines to the 
colloquial, but yet may be made on occasion the vehicle 
of the most exalted utterance, was peculiarly fitted to 
nurse this principle into life, and it was to this measure 
that Archilochus had applied the principle, and we are 
told that the tragedians derived their idea direct from 
the works of Archilochus.^ And this mixture of Speech 

^ CM TL 17 TrapaKaraXoyr/ Iv ratg (j^Bdlg rpayiKOv ; rj dia 
Trjv dv(i)fjiaXiav ; iraOrfTiKOv yap rb avw/LiaXtg kol Iv /ueyWaL 
TV)(r]g rj Xvirrig ' to 0£ ofiaXeg eXarrov yoiodeg. Aristotle. 
Problems. XIX. 6. For the sense of djiOT] here in refence to the 
Iambics, cf. Lucian. Orch. who in continuation of the thought, iTEpaccov 
rd lafxj^ELa quoted above, goes on thus :— KOt fiixpL fikv ^ Av^pofxa\r\ 
Tig rj 'EKaj3i7 ioTi, (popr^Tog ?] t^Sr), 

^ in §£ tHjv lan^eiojv rd filv Xiymdai Trapd rrjv Kpovatv 
rd o acEcrdai ^ Ap\iXo)(ov ^aai Kara^H^ai, eW ovtu) \pr\aaaBai 
Tovg TpayiKOvg woLTtTag. piut. De Mus loc. cit. 


and Song, which formed the role of the actors, was 
sometimes used to the accompaniment of the lyre, that 
is to say, both speaking and chanting to its accom- 
paniment, and sometimes it was unaccompanied, and, I 
imagine, the latter was the more common way, though 
we certainly hear of the former also. 

Now if the Paracataloge was the basis of the 
actors' part in the Greek Drama, we may go on to 
consider a further exhibition of its influence, and see 
how its spirit seems to have extended over all the 
play, which we may pronounce in a manner, though 
unconsciously, to have been formed on the spirit of 
the Paracataloge. For if exalted chanting differs from 
speech, no less does regular rhythmic song differ 
from chanting. It is as much a contrast to it as 
chanting itself is to speech, and in the perpetual 
contrast of Lyric Song to Chanting did the relations 
of the Chorus to the Acting consist. For when the 
actors had finished their dialogue or harangue, with 
which the play opened, speaking it or chanting it 
according to the nature of the subject, the Chorus, 
preceded by a line of flute-players, came dancing in 
through the side wings into the large arena, singing 
a most harmonious and plastic song, and the flute- 
players ranged themselves on the steps of the altar, 
fronting the stage, while the chorus, in time to their 
song, performed their dances and evolutions in that 
large open space that was like a small cricket-ground 
in size, and after the conclusion of their song and 
dance the actors began their speeches again, and ' after a 
time there was another choral song and dance, and then 
more speeches, and in this graceful interchange of 
Music and Speech the structure of the drama consisted. 
For I say we may well call the actors' part the 
" speaking " part, however much ^ it may at times have 


risen into the region of musical declamation, for even 
this was speaking, as compared to the clear and plastic 
choral song, which stood out as the undoubted music of 
the play, and to which the rest served but as a foil. 
In this way, then, we may take the Paracataloge as 
the typical form on which the Greek Drama was based, 
and so we shall find it was more allied to our 
Melodrama than our Opera, whence we may well 
surmise if the Melodrama may not be a purer form 
of art, and that in the Opera, which gives us perpetual 
music all through the piece, with none of the relief 
or shading which the infusion of homely speech affords, 
we see rather a corruption of Dramatic Music than 
its best and purest form. For there is such a thing 
as making too much of Music in Dramatic Art, whereby 
it loses half its charms, and there is such a thing 
as making too little. And the latter we may see in the 
Melodramas of our own Elizabethan poets, where the 
music, as was natural with men who were playwrights 
rather than musicians, is reduced to too great a 
subordination ; though even that is preferable to the 
excesses of the Modern Grand Opera, where we are 
overdone with a continual swell of sound, that never 
ceases for an instant being poured in at our ears, 
which is not only unnatural but false to the best models 
of antiquity. For indeed if we would find the same 
excellent tempering of Speech and Song, which was the 
basis of the Greek tragedy, we must search for it in the 
operas of Mozart and the early Italian School, which 
were in every sense of the word Melodramas, and gain 
their beauty, as we say, from that admirable blending 
of Speech and Song, which it was the merit of 
Greek Tragedy to enunciate and emphasise. Which 
character of the Greek Tragedy it behoves us to 
keep clearly before us at present, when so many 


false theories are afloat about its nature ; for men 
have lately arisen of a spirit that is eminently anti- 
classical, who would warp and distort that beautiful 
form of art into keeping with their own opinions, and 
they have given untrustworthy and untrue descriptions 
of it in their writings, making Pegasus into a griffin, 
and the Chimaera out of the goat Amalthea. 

And this was the way the Chorus entered through 
the side wings of the Orchestra, for they came 
marching in with all the pomp of a mimic army. And 
when they were 50 in number, which was during all 
the prime of ^schylus, marching with their band 
of flute-players before them they were an exact 
representation of the Spartan Pentecostys. ■ And this 
was the way they entered. They marched either 
in column or in ranks, Kara ^vya or Kard aroi- 
XovQ^. And in all ^schylus' plays where men form 
the chorus, they march in to the Anapaestic or March 
Measure of the Spartans, and thus arranged, like a 
body of soldiers in battle array, they marched all 
down the large open space of the Orchestra, and took 
up a position round the altar of Bacchus, where their 
leader, who was like the captain of the Spartan 
company, stood on the steps and led the song which 
they had been singing as they entered. And where 
it was a chorus of women, as we say, they would 
enter in a style less martial, as in the Prometheus, 
where the 50 daughters of Oceanus are the chorus, 
who were the nymphs of the sea, they come in to 
the light tripping measure of Paeons and Epitrites, 
and they were drawn in through the air in a 

I Sometimes, though more rarely, in line, Kdw ^va. Jul. Poll. VI, 

15. cf. supra 726, 


car, singing this beautiful measure, and all their 
wings rustling as they sang. And then they would 
descend from the car, and dance in mazy dances 
through the orchestra. And this is the measure they 
danced ; — 

— : —w I \j \j — \j I _v^__ I 

KJ \J —\J I _W I 

which is next mixed with light iambics to form 
the measure of their dance. But in the Seven 
against Thebes, where there is also a female chorus, 
they come in scared and terrified at the army that 
is at their gates, and he brings them in dancing to the 

Dochmius measure, w w_^ | \j w_ | which is 

the noble measure that is consecrated to terror and 
grief, of which such fine use is made by the 
tragedians. But this is where choruses of women 
play their part, but where choruses of men come in, 
as we say, he brings them in marching in the 
Anapaestic War March, and once, in the Supplices, we 
have women entering in the same order. And now 
having seen the chorus deploy itself round the altar, 
we may see how the Dorian war dances lived again 
in Athenian tragedy. For in this deploying there 
would be used a Counter-march by rank, such as we 
have described in the Spartan evolutions, and ranged 
around the altar they would stand in quadrangular 
form, £v rerpayi^w^), which was the invariable form of 
the Dorian dances. And these are some of the 
dances which they danced in the course of the play : 
— there was the Double dance,'^ when I imagine they 
would separate into two bodies in the manner of the 

^ SiTrXfj opxn^ic. Jul. Pollux. IV. 14. This is taking Kuhnius' 
emendation, -which is supported by a gloss in Hesychius. 


Pyrrhic dance, and engage in mimic movements 
against each other, or possibly it might have been 
danced in two lines in the style of the Gymnopaedic 
dance, which was always a favourite model for the 
dances of tragedy.^ And this is what often occurs 
in -Greek tragedy, that the chorus is divided into two 
bodies, and sometimes they are friendly troops, but 
sometimes they menace one another. And this we say 
is obviously derived from the Pyrrhic or Gymnopaedic 
dances. And besides the Double Dance there was what 
was called the Basket Dance (KoXaOiaKog),^ which was 
a weaving of lines and columns, in which what evolutions 
and wheelings and counter-marches may we not imagine ! 
—seen to such perfection, too, in that great space, 
which was a reproduction of the xopoc of the Dorian 
cities, in which their evolutions took place. But when 
the leader of the chorus advanced to hold a dialogue 
with the actors, they would doubtless form in a semi- 
circle around him, in the manner of the Half Moon or 
Hyperphalangisis, which we have already described 
before. Then there was the Trpwroo-rarrjc, or file leader, and 
the devTepoardTrtg, or second rank man, and the bringers 
up, and the Se^iotrrarat, or right file men, and the apKr- 
Tep6<TTaTai, or left file men, all terms derived, along 
with the evolutions they point to, from the drill dances 
of the Dorian warriors. But the Oip/navarpig, a 
wild and furious dance, was, I imagine, in all respects 

1 Athenaeus compares the Gymnopaedic with the Tragic Dance. And 
here it may be the place to notice how much this passage of Athenaeus 
has been misinterpreted by some, for some have gone to identify, where 

he is merely making a fanciful comparison. Eortv o fl o i a fxev i] 

TTvppixn Sec, he says, n jvfxvoTraLdiKrj tt a p e fif^t B p-qg karTi T^ 

TpayiKy, 7} S' VTTOjO^ij/xartKrj oiKeiovTai &g, 

2 JuJius Pollux. IV. 14. 



the counterpart to the Pyrrhic in its most miUtary 
form, and the mimic rushes forward and imitation of the 
actions of an army in the field of battle are well seen in 
that scene of the Agamemnon, where the chorus with 
hand on sword advances menacing ^gisthus. 

These are some of the dances of tragedy of which we 
are expressly told, and others it is not difficult to 
imagine of a similar nature, that is to say, reproductions 
of the dances of the Dorians/ and how close was the 
connection and how perfectly it was recognised we may 
well perceive, when we remember that the dialect in 
which the choral songs were written was always the 
Dorian dialect, although they were to be sung by 
Athenians. And this is a tacit admission of where the 
Choral element of tragedy had come from, and how 
there were two elements, the Dorian element and the 
Ionian, or Attic element, which was the acting, or the 
dialogue, and how they had grown together in the way 
we have seen them. 

So much then had the religion of Apollo triumphed 
over the religion of Bacchus, making its squares and 
marching grounds in the very precincts of his temple, 
and disciplining the unruly Bacchic dances till it had 
made them its own. 

And now a greater triumph was in store for it. For 
^.schylus, the vine-dresser's son, and the confessed 

1 e.g. the (Tiiai] X^'P (this is Salmasius' reading) plainly " the dance 
•with up-turned hands," and the X^'P KaTaTTprfvrjQ "with down-turned 
hands," which evidently turned on the \HpovOfiia of the Pyrrhic. Of 
the other tragic dances in Pollux, the writer may venture the following 

explanations : the ^v\.ov TTUpaXri^ig " an advance to the seats," the 

Ku/S/'oTijo-te "a dance by exarchs," the TTapaj3if}vai rtrrajO a, probably 
<' countermarch bv rank," 


servant of Bacchus, with his love for the prodigious and 
the marvellous, was to pass away, and give place to a 
nobler spirit, who should make the gods and heroes walk 
the stage as Homer himself would have had them. For in 
the year 468, B.C., and on the occasion of a great military 
spectacle, when the bones of Theseus were removed from 
Scyrus to Athens by Cimon, the Athenian general, 
Sophocles conquered yEschylus in the tragic contest, and 
^schylus left Athens immediately, and went to the 
court of Hiero at Syracuse. And there was something 
very remarkable about this tragic contest which 
deserves to be mentioned. For the way the prizes 
were awarded was this : Five judges were selected by 
lot from the people, and the tragic poets, having 
prepared their tragedies and rehearsed their choruses 
and actors in their parts, would then submit them 
privately to the judges, who decided which were worthy 
of the numerous competitors to contend for the prize 
at the Great festival of Bacchus, which was called the 
City Dionysia. And Sophocles and ^F^schylus were 
both among the selected competitors on this occasion, 
and it was the first time that Sophocles was to exhibit. 
And when the day of the contest came, and the judges 
were ready in the theatre, and the performances about 
to begin, Cimon with nine other generals entered the 
theatre, and it was agreed, out of deference to them 
and the occasion of the great ceremony they had been 
engaged in, that this time they should be the judges of 
the pieces instead of the regular judges who had been 
selected by lot. And Cimon administered the oath to 
the generals, that they would judge without any favour 
or partiality, and when the day of the contests closed, 
they all unanimously gave their vote in favour of 

And Sophocles was the most beautiful man of his 


time, and had danced in the Tragic Choruses from 
his boyhood. When he was only i6, he had led the 
triumphal chorus of boys that celebrated the battle of 
Salamis, and now he was 20, when he exhibited his 
first play, and conquered the veteran ^schylus. And 
■while ^schylus had been more a stage manager and 
impresario, Sophocles was the musician. And we read 
that he played the lyre on the stage in the character 
of Thamyris, and also took the part of the girl 
Nausicaa, in which character he danced the ball 
dance, as she is described in Homer, dancing the 
ball dance, and throwing a golden ball to her 

Now by the time of Sophocles the chorus had 
been much reduced in numbers, for it had been 
reduced from 50 to 15, and this was a compulsory 
reduction on the part of the government, for it is 
said that ^Eschylus had so exceeded all propriety in 
the use he made of his great chorus of 50, sending 
them in by trap-doors under the seats of the audience ^ 
in the guise of furies with snakes in their hair and 
horrible bloodstained countenances, that women were 
seized with convulsions in the theatre, and those with 
child were seized with the untimely pains of labour. 
From which time a law was passed reducing the 
numbers of the chorus, in order that nothing like this 
might occur again. And we learn that the numbers 
were reduced to 15, which was the number of the 
<:horus in the time of Sophocles. With a chorus of 
these diminished numbers we may imagine that other 
aims began to present themselves in the treatment of 
their dances. For what they had lost in massiveness 

1 From Chiron's stairs. 


and display, they might gain in grace and elegance. 
And we must imagine that the choruses of Sophocles 
would study the most artistic figures and graceful 
movements,! and we know that he took particular 
pains in training them, rehearsing them in their 
parts himself, and playing his lyre and dancing to 
show them the steps. This was not a common thing 
for the dramatist himself to do, but was generally 
left to the chorus-master. For this was the way the 
play was got up. When the poet had written his 
play, he applied to the Chief Magistrate of the city 
for a chorus and for actors, and if his piece was 
deemed good enough he was referred to a Choragus for 
his chorus, and the actors he might choose himself^ 
Now the choragus was some rich citizen of the town, 
who was to pay all the expenses that were connected 
with the rehearsing and training the chorus. And this 
was one of the municipal duties at Athens, to which all 
people were liable whose property exceeded £700. 
And it was considered a good work in the eyes of 
religion,^ no less than a political duty, and while all 
citizens of a certain fortune were liable to it, as we say> 
it was even sought after by rich citizens, as rich men 
among us seek the mayoralty and civic duties of their 
town. And the first thing which the choragus did on 
being impannelled for the function, was to collect the 

1 There were chalked lines traced on the floor of the orchestra to 
guide the choruses in their elaborate figures. Vide Hesychius. 

■■* That is if he had been successful in the preceding year. If not, 
the actors were assigned to him. 

2 The intimate connection between the plays and the religion is seen 
to advantage in the diatribes of the Fathers, e.g. Tertulhan's Spectacles. 
27. Lactantius. Institutes. XX. where the plays are freely spoken of 
as a religious ceremony. 


members of the chorus. And he might choose them 
from the highest families in Athens, for none might 
refuse him, but he was allowed to press children into 
the service of the chorus against the will of the 
parents, and compel them to give them up. Of so 
much esteem were beautiful voices and beautiful forms ; 
which it was his greatest object to get together, in 
order that he might not make a poorer show than his 
fellow citizens had made before him. And he would 
get boys, if the chorus were to be of girls or boys, 
and the men for the other sorts of choruses were 
more easily obtainable. And it was his duty to lodge 
and maintain the chorus till the day of the per- 
formance, and provide them with such articles of food 
as would conduce to strengthen the voice. And he 
must engage a chorus-master, who was to train them 
in their parts, though sometimes, as we have seen in 
the case of Sophocles, the poet would do that himself. 
And the dresses of the chorus were all provided at 
the expense of the choragus, and some of the choragi, 
as we may imagine, were most lavish in their 
expenditure, so that a poor play would sometimes 
carry off the honours from a better one, owing to the 
sumptuous dresses and excellent training of its chorus. 
And this training and rehearsing of the chorus went 
on for many months before the festival of Bacchus at 
which the play was to be performed. For there were 
four festivals of Bacchus every year : there was the 
Rural Dionysia, which was a vintage festival and held 
in the month of December ; the Lenaea, or festival of 
the wine-press, which was held in January ; the 
Anthesteria, which was held in February ; and the 
Great, or City Dionysia, which was the leading festival 
of the year, and was held in April. At all of these 
except the Anthesteria plays were performed, but at 


the Rural Dionysia they were always old pieces, and 
at the Lenaea generally so, which were reproduced at 
these festivals because they had met with more than 
usual popularity in previous years, but at the Great 
Dionysia they were all new pieces that were produced, 
and this was the festival at which the best poets and 
the most wealthy choragi aspired always to contend. 
The plays then having been prepared for many months 
past, and being destined to be performed at the Great 
Dionysia, were generally read by the poet to a private 
circle of friends at the festival of the Anthesteria, 
which came little more than a month before, or some 
parts might even be gone through by the chorus and 
the actors, in order to get the benefit of criticisms, or 
to test the effect of certain scenes. And at the 
Anthesteria also, which was reputed the most ancient 
festival of any, many of the religious ceremonies took 
place, which could not so well be taken at the Great 
Dionysia, owing to the theatrical performances occupying 
so large a space in it. The mysteries of Bacchus were 
celebrated at the Anthesteria, and in them was given 
under the auspices of the priests a similar dramatic 
exhibition of his life and adventures which we have 
seen the Satyrs giving at the village festivals.^ But 
this was given in the dead of night, and only seen 
by the initiated. And the mystery of his birth was 
enacted, and how he was born from Semele, being 
born in a blaze of fire to be the chorus-leader of 
the fire-snorting stars ; and also those awful mysteries 

^ It was a common thing at the mysteries to have a dramatic 
representation. Cf. Clemens' account of the representations at the 
Eleusinian mysteries. The temple itself at Eleusis seems to have been 
constructed with an eye to this, for Strabo says that the mystical cell 
could hold as many people as a theatre. 


were explained, how he was the great serpent that 
encompasses the Universe, and crushes for ever a dove 
that never dies, and how he is the Bull-headed God 
that came from Phoenicia, carrying off the sister of 
Cadmus, and bringing her to Greece.^ These and other 
holy mysteries were expounded to the initiated at 
the Anthesteria. And then, had we been present at 
one of these mysterious ceremonies, we might have 
seen far better than we can bring it out by the 
comparison of history the intimate connexion between 
the Tragedy and the Religion of Bacchus, and how the 
art was the pure flower of the creed, and, I say, then 
we might have seen how it lay on its stem. For 
such was the ceremony and doctrine of the Religion 
of Bacchus, that Tragedy was little more than an 
exoteric form of it, which showed its mysteries without 
divulging them. For this was the mysterious secret 
of the Bacchic religion, which no religious mind can 
afford to ignore, that the highest type of existence 
is the Androgyn, because it is the emblem of the 
nature of the Universe, which is a Dualism eternally 
united and inseparable, and of this was Bacchus 
himself the emblem, and particularly in his form of 
Adonis, who was the androgyn of Bacchus and Venus. 
For this reason were men dressed in women's clothes 
in the mysteries and the processions, to pourtray this 
mysterious doctrine. These were the Ithyphalli. Nor 
unconnected with this article of the creed was the 
doctrine of the Metempsychosis, which certainly formed 
part of the tenets also, and to the vivid conception of 
this doctrine we must ascribe that dressing in the 
skins of animalsj and using odd disguises and masks, 

^ The dragon's teeth were sown at Thebes. 

The GREEKe?. 559 

which meant originally in its religious intention the 
passage through many forms of existence which shall 
await us hereafter, or has attended us before in previous 
stages of the Metempsychosis : who may have been 
other men before we entered into this body, and 
shall doubtless pass into other bodies when we leave 
this one. Let us then apply these doctrines of the 
Bacchic religion to the tragedy, and we shall find it 
to be but their artistic reproduction. The actor, who 
played his many parts on the stage, grew out of the 
worshipper, who changed disguise after disguise in 
the mysterious ceremonies of his religion. The actor, 
now a woman now a man as his part required him, 
was but illustrating over again what his forerunners, 
the Ithyphalli, had done before him, whom he might still 
see walking by his side in the great processions of 
Bacchus ; nay, he retained a very remarkable trace of 
this mystical Bacchic doctrine in the costume he wore, 
for the cothurnus, or high-heeled boot, which the actors 
wore, was a woman's boot,^ and was by long prescription 
assigned to those who pass with such gay facility 
from sex to sex, that they are men without being 
men, and yet they are no women. 

Now these were some of the secret doctrines of the 
Bacchic religion that were made known to the initiated 
at the mysteries of the Anthesteria. And the mysteries, 
as we say, were celebrated at the dead of night, and 
the initiated were wrapped in fawnskins, and purified 
with the four elements, fire, air, earth and water, and 
there was doubtless singing of hymns, as at the 
ceremonies at the Lenaea,* and another mysterious 

^ Scholiast in Aristoph. Frogs. 47. 
• ^ Casaubon makes the hymns antiphonal. I know not with what 
reason, but I suspect with little. (Exercit. Baron. XVI. 484.) 


ceremony that was gone through was this : The wife 
of the Magistrate of Rehgion, who was the second 
Archon, was solemnly betrothed to Bacchus, having first 
made an oath of chastity. 

This then was the festival of Bacchus which preceded 
the Great Dionysia by a month or more, and at this 
the poets generally read to a select audience the plays 
they were to exhibit at the great festival in April, 
when the contests took place. And having received 
the opinions of their friends, or having tested the effect 
of perilous passages, they applied themiselves in the inter- 
vening time along with their choragus to work up the 
actors and chorus to the highest degree of perfection, 
for good acting and singing would sometimes carry an 
inferior play to the first place, and this all were aware 

Meantime after the lapse of little more than a month 
the time of the Great Dionysia arrived. And at this 
season of the year, which was the beginning of spring, 
the navigation was re-opened in the Piraeus, which had 
been closed all the winter, and Athens was visited by 
crowds of strangers and pleasure-seekers from all parts 
of Greece. And the Great Dionysia was a glorious 
carnival. Booths were run up in all the streets ; 
jugglers, mountebanks, thimble-riggers, plied their trade ; 
and great bowls of wine were set up at every corner 
for any passer-by to drink, for the wine was so cheap 
at Athens you could get 10 gallons for id.^ And these 
were the ceremonies that constituted the festival : there 
was first the Chorus of boys, and then the Procession, 
and next the Revel, and after that the Plays. And 

1- For this assertion Bocldi is ansAverable, not I. See his remarks oil 
the price of Attic wine in his Staathaushaltung der Ath. 


the chorus of boys was danced by the most beautiful 
boys of Athens, who were trained for their dance with 
no less care and attention than the choruses of the 
tragedies were. " Would that I were an ivory lyre, 
and a beautiful boy carrying me in that Dionysian 
chorus ! " says a poet, for they were so beautiful 
it was a delight to look upon them. And then at 
midday, I imagine, came the Procession, with the 
Revel to follow in the evening. And the Procession 
was one of the most gorgeous of spectacles, and 
exceeded in variety and pomp the displays of the 
theatre. And it would be variously arranged at 
various festivals, but the one we know of was this : ^ 
First came men dressed as Sileni to clear the way, 
having some purple, and some scarlet cloaks 
on. And after them came troops of Satyrs, 
carrying lamps in their hands, that were twined with 
ivy. And after them came women representing Victory, 
with gilded wings, and they had censers in their hands, 
twined with twigs and sprays of ivy. Their dresses 
were embroidered, and glittered with golden trinkets. 
After these came a large altar drawn on a waggon, 
thickly covered with ivy leaves, and garlands of vine 
tendrils placed all over it, A hundred and twenty 
beautiful boys walked' before it, clad in tight-fitting 
purple tunics, carrying frankincense and myrrh and 
saffron in golden plates. After them forty Satyrs, 
crowned with garlands, and their bodies stained with 
purple and vermilion. After these two Sileni. After 
them a tall man in tragic costume, and with the tragic 

^ I have not hesitated to utilise the procession in Athenseus, with some 
abridgments and some omissions to deprive it of the oriental colouring 
he gives it. For a simpler form of the procession see Plutarch. 

TTejoi (j)iXo'!r, 

O O 


mask on, having a cornucopia in his hand. He was 
designed to represent the Year. And after him a woman 
crowned with peach blossoms, and four girls with her 
dressed as the Hours, And then came the grand centre- 
piece of the procession, headed by the Chief Priest of 
Bacchus and all the actors and musicians who were to take 
part in the plays — the Statue of Bacchus himself, drawn 
in a chariot, and represented as pouring wine from a golden 
cup. Above his head was a canopy of vine-leaves and 
ivy leaves, and hanging from the branches were crowns 
and garlands and drums and masks, such as were used 
in tragedy. Behind the chariot walked tbe newly 
initiated, and the bearers of the mystic emblems of his 
worship, the women carrying the licnon, which was the 
mystic emblem of generation, and the Phallophori, who 
carried the Phallus, which was the serpent. And they 
walked treading in dancing measure, and singing the 
Phallic Song. With these also the Ithyphalli would 
walk, though their place is not set down in the 
procession, and the Iambic Men. And the Ithyphalli, 
as we have said, were men dressed as women, and they 
had chains of flowers in their hands, and transparent 
Tarentine dresses on. After these came crowds of 
Maenads and Bacchantes, beating drums and cymbals, 
with their hair dishevelled, and brandishing snakes in 
their hands. And then more satyrs, and more boys 
carrying censers. And to conclude the procession, an 
immense waggon full of grapes, and Satyrs in it treading 
the grapes, singing a vintage song to the accompaniment 
of the Flute, and treading in time, and Silenus led 
them. And the wine flowed in streams on the 
pavement. And behind the cart came troops of boys 
carrying flagons of wine, and offering them to the 
people to taste. 

This was the Procession, and, I imagine, the Revel 


followed in the evening. And next day were the 
plays. And the plays began in the early morning, 
and the people flocked to take their places at break 
of day.i And all classes assembled in the theatre 
together, for the price of entrance was so low that 
the poorest could go, being no more than 3d. to pay, 
and if this was too much for a poor man, he had 
only to apply to the nearest magistrate, and he might 
receive the price of his ticket from the public 
exchequer. And now then the Athenians assembled 
in the great theatre, 30,000 strong, to witness the 
representation of the plays, and there was no roof to 
the theatre, but they sat in the open air, with the 
sun and the sky above them. And let us try and 
imagine that we too are to hear a play at one of 
these glorious ceremonies. And whose shall we select 
to hear but that noble and divine man's, who at the 
period vve are now writing of was in the prime of 
his powers and his glory. And it is one of 
Sophocles' plays that we will listen to. Oh ! is he not 
the poet of the sun, and the fountain of all beauty ? 
For who has ever touched his height of excellence ? 
And we will take a play that he wrote later in 
life, to see how it was represented, but yet we will 
take it. And the play is the CEdipus at Colonus, 
and let us see how it was performed. And CEdipus 
comes to Colonus to die there, for the oracle has told 
him that whenever he comes to a grove of the Eumenides 
his troubles will all be over, and then he may get 
the death he longs for. And there is a grove of the 
Eumenides at Colonus, but he knows it not, and now 

1 According to Athenseus, immediately after breakfast and in the early- 
morning they trooped with gfirlands on their heads to the theatre. 


he comes wandering with his daughter, Antigone, to 
this very grove, without knowing to what place he has 
come. And the scenery at the beginning of the play 
represents this grove, with a view of Athens in the 
distance, for Athens was not far from Colonus, and 
there were real trees on the stage, and the sun and 
the sky were above the heads of all. And CEdipus 
comes in blind, and led by his daughter, Antigone. 
And they are introduced speaking, and CEdipus asks 
her where they are. And she replies that they are 
somewhere in the neighbourhood of Athens, but she 
cannot tell the name of the place, for she sees the 
towers and walls at a distance, which are painted in 
perspective on the scene, and this is how she knows 
they are near Athens. And as they are debating and 
inquiring between themselves where they are, and 
CEdipus has sat down on a rock in the centre of the 
grove, a stranger enters, who is a man of Colonus, 
who hurriedly calls to them to come out of the grove, 
for it is a sacred spot, and no man may enter it. 
And CEdipus inquires who it is sacred to. And the 
man tells him that it is sacred to the Eumenides, 
who are the goddesses of Colonus. " Then," says 
CEdipus, " I will never leave this grove ; for here is 
the goal and end of all my troubles, for Apollo has 
told me that whenever I came to a grove of the 
Eumenides, I should there be able to get the release 
that I long for." " Nay, stranger," cries the man, " it 
is not in my power to force you, but I must go and 
tell the citizens how you trespass on their most sacred 
spot, for they hold it so sacred, that not only must 
no man enter it, but they pass it with face averted, 
not daring even to look upon it, they hold it so 
sacred." While he has gone on his errand, CEdipus, 
standing in the centre of the grove, utters a solemn 


prayer to the Eumenides, invoking them to have 
compassion on him, and protect him as their supphant. 
" Father," says Antigone, " I see some men approaching. 
Be silent, for these I fear are the citizens who are 
coming." And now the Music begins, for marching 
through the wings of the orchestra, and preceded by 
a band of flute-players, comes the Chorus, composed 
of Old Men of Colonus, and they march in to this 
measure, breaking into companies as they come opposite 
the stage, for they pretend to be searching about 
through their sacred grove to find the trespasser. 

" See ! Search him out ! 

Where can he be, this most profane of men ? 
Look for him ! search for him everywhere ! 
Some wanderer he must be, some stranger, 
Or he would never have dared to violate the sanctity of 
this awful grove. 

o - pa. 

Tig ap r\v J ttoO vat - u ', 

TTov Kv - pel £/c - ro - TTi - og (Tvd-eig 

l-8~^ — ^- ^ ^ — ^-F4— ^ — 1^ — ^-Fg— a^ — ^— »H 

6 7rav-T(i)v, 6 Trav - rwv aK - op - ia - Ta -Tog ; 

F I K I \ § \ I IF' '• IF ' 1^ M 

Xeixj-aar av-Tov, 7rpo(r-7r£v-6ov, 7rpo(7^ip-KOv 7rav'Ta-)(ri. 

F SI I s I fI iT^jn is f I 1^ M 

TrXav - a - Tag, rrXav- d - rag rig 6 Trpia-jdyg, oi/S' 



Here the theme ^ 

of the Opera is cg ^ | cB ) ^ ^ 1 f§ h 1 ] 

first heard. [&zz^zz-^—&z^^—-i^^^^=:m=lbzi:^^^i^zzi 
sy - ^w - poc;. 7rpo(T-£ - j3a yap ovk 

f§ I h f§ I K l"N I [§ S I 

av TTOT aa - tl- jStc O'V - croc £C 


tvS' a 

a^ - at - fxuK - £ - rav Kop - av, 


Here it shades off a httle. g-J— J^J'^-J-fg-J^, 


. y| 

ac rpf/i - o - /:i£v AEy - £fv, 

I S\ \ 1^ f I N : 

KoX Trap - a^a - si - jdofx - ead' aS - tpK - rwg, 

But begins here r^ i^ 


a(^ - ojv - fi>c, aX - oy - wc;- to raq 

f ^ I F I S N 1 F N f 

£i» - ^7/ - fiov aTO - jLia (j)pov - ri - cog 
t - £v - r£c, TO. 0£ fuv Tty' rj - 

And here disappears C^ ] «(» ^ | rd i»* i [ | 

again. l:4iz^ziiz^zz:^zz:]^z:tnzz^izz^zzlz=st 



ov - civ aZ - 

ov £ - yu) \iv(7 -atov rrs - pi irav oh - tto) 

I ^ f^ I I ! I 

o{>v - a - fxai Tifx - sv - og 


III I I N K I I 1 


yvw - vai TTov jxoi tto - t£ vai - £t. 

For this is the theme of the Opera, 

13 JN I 13 1 ^ K I |3 N I I 

And it is a 12 note phrase {irovg SwSe/caVrjjUoc 


Sa/cTuXi/coc), composed of a bar of — time and a bar 

of — time, only the bar of — time is broken into 
8 ' ^ 8 

3 3 

two — bars, one at each end of the — bar. And the 

8 ' 4 

first — bar is generally found during the Opera with the 


dXoyia at its first note, which gives it almost the 
value of a spondee I II, and admits two long 
syllables to it. And particularly is this the case if it 
open a Choral Song, in which case the quaver always 
has the dXojia at first ; in the present case it does 
not open the Song, but occurs in the middle, being 
rather hinted at than deliberately treated, and cautiously 
introduced to prepare the ear for what was to follow. 
For we shall find this theme appearing again and 
again through the opera, and furnishing the subject, 
or else the basis, for most of the Rhythms that will 
appear. And this admirable device for giving unity 
to the opera is a common thing in Greek tragedy, 
and may be found with greater or less apparency in 
most of them, ^schylus, too, takes this plan in his 
trilogies, as in the Trilogy of the Agamemnon the 
theme of the Trilogy is 

12 1 S M ! 1^ M I N NL ! > ! i h 

4— »i — ^—^-\—^ — ^—^-\—w) — a^al— 17— ^— »!— ^— ^- 

^ As near as may be, which would perhaps be more exactly described 
as the Epitrite mixed with Dactyls and other feet, with Dactyls, as 


and it seems to be even more important in Trilogies 
than in single plays, for a single play will hold 
together, but a Trilogy manifestly requires some pro- 
nounced bond of connection, such as a set theme 
running through all will give. And now we find 
Sophocles, who preferred single plays to Trilogies, yet 
using this plan to give unity to his play, and it is 
a practice that may be found to hold with greater or 
less apparency throughout Greek Tragedy. So firmly is 
it adhered to on occasions, as in this play for 
instance, that even the Ethos of the Rhythm is at 
times sacrificed, in order to give prominence to the 
theme, as in this play we have a mournful chorus 
and the happiest of choruses both sung to the same 

in lines 107. 114. 115. (these lines are quoted from Wellauer's Edition). 
Appearing at the end of the Epode in the same Chorus in the same form, 

it appears at the beginning of Strophe a with the last syllable of the 
Epitrite a Minim, as we have seen it in Pindar I I I which is 
kept up through that Strophe, Trochees taking the place of the Dactyls. 
In Strophe y 2nd Papons are mixed with it in its original form, 

W_ww I _w I _v.y |. The Minim Epitrite is imitated 

in the 2nd Chorus by Catalectic Iambuses, and this is continued all 
through this Chorus, congenially to the treatment of the preceding half of 
the line, in which Iambuses are substituted for Dactyls. In the latter 
Strophes of the same the Epitrite appears again. An admirable illustration 
of the treatment in Strophe 7 is found in the 3rd Chorus, line 672. sq. 

_ww_w I _w I \j \j _\j I _\j l&c. The 4th 

Chorus brings it in .again at the commencement line, 95 r., but the 
Trochees keep it up here. The Epitrite with the Iambic innuendo is 
repeated in the ist Chorus of the Choephoras. The Catalectic 
imitation is repeated in the 2nd chorus, line 320., and in a few lines 
more the exact repetition of the 2nd Pseon and Epitrite mixed. Most 
close is Strophe £ of the same chorus to original theme cf. line 381. 
sq. but generally with only one dactyl to precede the Epitrite, &c. 
&c., for this is not the place to go into detail. In the Eumenides I 
do not irnd the theme so strongly marked, for the Epitrite is here 
replaced by Paeons and Diiambs. 


rhythmic subject, which is the theme of the play, 
where we should have expected quite a different 
treatment. For the Ethos of the Rhythm is this, it 
is the reflection by the Rhythm of the sentiments of 
the Song, it is making the Rhythm be a mirror to 
the song, in which the song may see itself. For there 
are Rhythms of nobility, means Socrates in Plato, 
and Rhythms of courage, and Rhythms of temperance, 
and Rhythms of tenderness, as also Rhythms of rage 
and Rhythms of violence.^ And in his Laws Plato 
theorises how rhythms are the imitations of good and 
bad characters among men,^ and Aristotle in the 
same manner.^ And when we remember how truly 
they may be said to be imitations, and how the step 
of the brave man differs from that of the coward, 
and the trepidation of the passionate man from the 
placidity of the hero, we shall soon understand what 
a large scope there was for art, in the apt choice 
and adjusting of the rhythms to the precise sentiment 
of the moment. And the tragedians came at a most 
favourable time for the exercise of this art, for 
coming near the end of the day, when all the 
creation and development of the musical art had been 
finished, and not being limited and confined by any 
restriction of range, as those in former days, who used 
continually certain rhythms which they had created 
themselves, without thinking much how far they were 
precisely suited to the subject in hand, but using 
them for the mere delight and joy in their novelty 
and beauty, like Sappho and the Lesbian School, who 
invented beautiful rhythms, and sang them again and 

1 Plato. Pol. 400. 2 Legg. 798. 

3 Aristotle's Politics. VIII. 5. 


again with delight, like beautiful tunes, or those others 
who used their National rhythms, such as the Molossian, 
or the Lydian, or the Cretan, and even in Pindar's 
time we find an adherence to traditional rhythms, the 
Dorian, the Lydian, the ^olian, which sometimes 
would give but generally the minutenesses of pourtray- 
ing — but now, we say, the various rhythms being 
disseminated and become the common property of all 
Music, they were employed no longer traditionally, but 
aesthetically, serving now but as a treasury on which 
the poet might draw as he wanted, or a gamut of 
expressiveness for him to choose his notes from. 
And I have noticed that Sophocles will generally 
employ the Dochmius foot to express grief, which 
yEschylus will keep for terror.^ And it is a noble 
foot, and admirably expressive of powerful emotion. 
And what glorious use has Sophocles made of it in 
that scene in the Antigone, where Creon enters with 
Hsemon dead in his arms, and he begins that 
solemn chant in Dochmiuses, which rises and falls 
unvaried through the rest of the play ! 

I S \ I K I 1 K I , Nil 
ft— a^ — ^ ^- d j>— — a^ — S ^ -^ — S — 

^pev-wv tvty - (ppov-Mv afi - ap - rrj - fxa - ra 

interrupted soon with the sympathising words of the 
Chorus, but the next moment to be renewed in greater 
tragedy, for a messenger enters to tell him that his wife 
too is dead. 

I Si I N ! K i 1 N I 

|g— ^ J — d d — J— |— »i — ^ — ^ s -s — 

t " w, ovtr - Kov- ap - Toq "Ai - oou \lfji - rjv, 

^ e.g. in the Dochmius Chorus in the "j against Thebes. 78. &c. 


Ti jx apa, TL fjL oXeKELQ ; KUK-ay-jeX - ra fxoi 

rises again that fearful chant. And then the doors of 
the palace are swung open, and he sees her lying dead 
within, aiai, alaX, he mourns, 

hi 1 N I I h I I h ! I 


dv - iir - Tav ^6 - j3(o. ri fx ovk avT - at - av 

£7r - at - aev Tig afx - (^i- Qi]k - r(j) ^i(f> - £t ; 

Sti - Xai - og ly - w, (j)ev, (j)£v, 

I hi I h i ! h I I K I I 

oa - Aai - a oe crvy - kI/c - paa - ai cv - a. 

And thus it rises and falls, an awful climax, in 
unvarying measure till the end of the play. This 
powerful measure too is that in which the mad Ajax 
now restored to sense deplores his shame and misery to 
the Chorus. This too in the CEdipus Tyrannus is the 
measure in which CEdipus after committing the horrid 
deed laments and raves. And how powerfully has 
Sophocles made it obey the agitation of the moment, by 
resolving the Dochmiuses ! For let us see what 
agitation this gives, for the Dochmiuses appear in 
quavers instead of crotchets, and with what wonderful 
effect ! 

1 NhNKKNKhl hNlsSKhNhl 
vi(pog l/x 'hv air-or- po'TTOv, ett- ltt- \6-/iev-ov a(j)-aT'OVf 



1 P^ I !> I 1 N I 


oo - afx - ar - 6v re Kai Sutr- ov - pirr - rov 6v, 

raves CEdipus, and in the Antistrophe that follows with 
a moment's pause, 


N 1^ K IS S ,»«» IN Nl h» h ^ S S. IS K K 

av fxev e/i- og ett- lit- oA-oq er - i fxov-i/uL- og er - i yap 

K N'^ Is 



VTT - ofi - iv - eig fie tov tv(I>-\ov kjjo - iv - wv. 

It is by this device of resolving the feet that he has 
communicated that unspeakable agitation to the song of 
Antigone as she is being led to death, 

13 S i 
IS— <ii^~^^ 

'S 's Is 1 

,s IS ;s N I 

aK-\av - Tog, a(j> - iX - og, av - v/x - iv - at 


it goes in the Epode, and by this device, applying it to 
simple spondees, does .^schylus express the rage of the 
Furies : 

12 N Is is pnI iS n N sI ^ N Is N| 

\a - jSe \a - /Be \a- jSe \a - /Be Xa-/3£ Act -/Be (ppa-^ov. 

But by Spondees does Sophocles hush Philoctetes to 
sleep, for the chorus whisper low, as he is sinking to 
sleep after all his pain : — 

^ For a similar instance and for a similar reason see Trachinise. 947. 

TTorfjoa TTpoTEpov eTncrrivu) 

TTorepa juiXea irepairipto. 
2 For the reading here see Lachmann. De Mensuris tragics. p. 22. 


12 I N Is I I l> N I I N N I I K K I 
"Yttv oS -y V - ac," a'S - a - tjq, "Ytt- vi ^^ d\ -je- cjv, 

I ^ isl I 111 I I I Ml I 

ev - a - £Q riji - tv tX - Ootg, wv - as, £V - ai 

ai - (jJVy (i>v - at. 

ofx-fxa- (JL o av-Ti(T-\OLQ TOLVO a'lyXav, a t^t-ut - ai ravvv. 
And by Spondees they calm Electra's grief: 

12 I III ill III 
oIk - Tpa fj-h' v6<T - roi^ ah - ^u, 



OIK - TOO. S' iv KOL - Taig irar - poj - aig, 

I N N I I I I I I I I I I I 

or - e 01 TTay-xaX - kmv av - rai - a 

I S IV I I ! II 111 I I 
jev - V - (i)v top - fici - Or] TrXa - -yo. 

Let us contrast these solemn and mournful strains with 
the lightness and sprightliness of the Love Chorus in 
the Antigone, and how admirably the tripping Trochees 
and Iambuses and light Cyclic Dactyls give the light 
grace of the sentiment (and we shall notice in it that 
Metathesis of Sappho's often occurring, by which she 
clashed the accents together), 



13 hi I 

i^zt^zzz ba^z=^=^=ba^z=^=|=^zz:*'z:bal3Z 

Ep - u)g dv - i - Kci - re fia - X"*^) "Ep - wCj <>? ^v 

N N 

/crjj - fxa- en ttitt - 

^| I I I > 

J N| 


T£ig, og hv fxaX -a- icaig Trap - u - alg vc - av - t- ^og 



tV - VV - ')(EV - Hg, 

I 16 i 1^ I I 13 . 


0ot - r«c S' wfp - TTOv - TL-og tv T ay-pov-oju-oig av -\mg' 

I I 1 1^1^ h I 

IS s__s_ 


Kai cr' ovT lid - av - a -twv (pvE, - t - fxog ovc - a?, ovd' 

b:«^=«'=*=i^=at b^: 

Th h 1_ hi l_ I 

a/UL- ep - I - (i}v iir av - upM-TTwv 


X'WV fxe/x- riv - ev. 

Now let us notice the charm of this conclusion, in 
which I think Sophocles is always singularly happy. 
For what more happy and forcible conclusions can be 
imagined than those which end the Strophes and 
Antistrophes in that Chorus of prayer in the (Edipus 

For the freedom of the scansion and the phrasing the author must 
plead the effects of old habit, but though it is free he thinks it the 
true one. 


Tyranrius : " If ever you have helped the city when 
storms were lowering over it, and have quenched and 
put out the fire of misery, Oh ! come now." 

2 1 J* 


i"^ h 1 




^ h 

s> ^ ^ tf 



^ ti> 

d TTor 

- e 

KOI TTpo - Tfo - ag 

or - 


VTT - ep - 

1 l>l 



J" J' 

■■■-^ ^ 



^ ..0 

op - vv ~ fie - vag tto - \h 

I I h* ^ I I 1^ i'^ I I ^ h i 1 1^ N I 

r}v ~ v(T - QT Ik - TOW - I - av (j)\6-ja tt// -fia-rog, 


iX - Oer - £ KUt vvv. 

What power and passion is in this invocation ! and 
he gains it by his clusters of dactyls. Similarly in 
the third strophe of the same Ode, that wild breaking 
up of the time in the last line after it has been 
running so evenly so long, how powerfully does it 
express the words, " Oh ! Father Zeus, crush them 
beneath thy thunderbolt ! " And he keeps the time 
easy and regular in the preceding lines to bring this 
out, as we shall see : — 

13 h I I ^ I I h J I h I I 

TfX - £t yoft H TL vv^ a<p - 7J, 

11 h I I ^ I I j"' I I I 

TOVT £7r' i]fx - ap 'ip - X^ " '''"* ' 

hill h| I ! J hj I h| J >| ! 

Tov, w 7rvp-(f)6p - wv acr - rpa - irav Kpa - Trj vifx - o)v. 


13 I I 1*^ h I h ^ I hi I > \ 1 II 


& Zev TTCt-Tep, VTT - o cro7 (j}Oi(T - ov Kep- av - vm. 

But the Epitrite is generally the Reflective foot 
with Sophocles, and he uses it when the Chorus 
moralises, in which sense how admirably does it 
open that Reflective chorus in the QEdipus Tyrannus, 
H fioi ^vvdr] (j)tpovTi, and for the first two lines we have 
only Epitrites : — 

I I I 1^ I I I ^ I I I 

£t /jLOI l,VV - d - I] (j)ip - OV - TL 

II ^ I J I I hi ! I i hi I I 

fioi - pa TClv iv - asTT - Tov ay - vd - av Xo-y-wv tp 

II hi : I 

yix)v T£ irav -rtvv. 

And this would be an interesting way to consider 
the Ethos of the Rhythms, in their relation to the 
contrasts of the Choruses, and how the rhythms bring 
out these contrasts, for take a play of Sophocles, 
such as the Antigone, and we shall find that the 
choruses are so aranged and the play so arranged 
that each may be a foil to the other. And this is 
generally true of all his plays ; for there is generally 
a Sunny Chorus, a Martial Chorus, an Idyllic Chorus, 
a Religious Chorus, which often takes the form of a 
prayer, and sometimes a Descriptive, or Narrative 
Chorus. And in the Antigone, which is peculiarly 
fertile in Choruses, there are more than these, and 
first comes the Sunny Chorus, and then a Grave 
and Moralising Chorus, which is prophetic almost of 
the catastrophe of the play, and then one of 


much the same nature, but more didactic perhaps. 
Then comes the IdylHc Chorus, which is that Love 
Chorus that we have just now quoted, next the 
Narrative Chorus, and after that the ReHgious Chorus, 
which takes the form of a prayer. And this, 
I say, will be found to hold good of all his 
plays with more or less variation, for sometimes 
there is a Dramatic Chorus, which the Martial 
Chorus generally is, but in the Antigone there 
is no Martial Chorus, and similar variations . will be 
found in other plays. And, I say, it would be 
interesting to consider the contrasts of the Rhythms, in 
company with the contrasts of the Choruses, and see how 
far they bring them out. And we might do this in 
the play that we are particularly engaged in examining^ 
that is, the (Edipus at Colonus, for it like the rest has 
its Martial Chorus, and its Idyllic Chorus, and Reflective 
Chorus. But in this play more than any I know, does 
the influence of the leading Theme assert itself, so 
much so that it often eclipses the Ethos of the 
Rhythms. And we have seen it already started in the 
opening Chorus, which we* should be right to term a 
Dramatic Chorus, for in the separation of the Chorus 
into groups, as they enter to search their sacred grove, 
there would be scope for much dramatic evolution, as 
they pretend to scour the confines of the grove, and 
peer through the trees, for they dare not enter it, to see 
where its profaner was lurking. And at last they see 
him among the trees, and gathering together they call 
to him from a distance, and bid him leave the place. 
" Perhaps he cannot hear us," they say, " for he is far 
away," and they dare not enter the grove themselves. 
But now his daughter, Antigone, seeing them remonstrating 
with her father, persuades him to leave the grove, and 
he walks with trembling steps, leaning on her arm, 

P P 


to some rocks at the edge of the grove to sit down 
there, while a dramatic dialogue takes place between 
him and the chorus, which is sung by both, and 
probably to the occasional accompaniment of the lyre, 
during which the voice of Antigone is heard in the 
notes of the Theme, cheering her father as he totters 
along, and telling him to lean upon her arm : — 

|3 h h h }3 I h b I 13 1^ i 1 
ysp -a - ov QQ \e - pa crw - fxa aov 

I h I |3 I j'^ i^ I I h I r 

I as' «^ 14 w a^ gi ■as' | a< ■:S [ 

tt^o-kXiv - ag 0tX - l - av Ifi - av. 

" Alas ! " cries (Edipus, for he must needs tread among 
the rocks to get to the seat, and he feels his blindness 

And now the Chorus takes up the theme, 

|3 I h h I 13 !*» I 
:| 4 — g* as* — a^ — i^ — 1 8^:=*^^:= ^=^ 

rXa - fiu)v , or - e vvv X^^ ' ?Cj 

ah - ca - aov, rig e(J) - vg j3j00r-wv; 

And they are asking him who he is, and he shudders at 
the question. " Strangers," he says, " I am an exile ; but 
do not, do .not ask me who I am !" But still they press 
him, and still he evades them, till at last their entreaties 
become so strong, that he is forced to speak. And in 
this moment of agitation the Hexameter begins to roll, 
and its effect is heightened by spoken words being 
mixed with the Music. For this shows how he falters, 
for he begins, and breaks off, and then begins, and 
breaks off again, for he cannot tell the horrid secret : 





2 I 


-jtt 1^=1 



TL Trat 

Spoken (while Antigone sings the rest of the verse), 
T e K V o V e fio V ; 

N h 

^I J 


She encourages him to speak, 




K ar UK p V (j) a V 


h hi I h h 




juaic - pa /ilX - Xe - rov, aX - Xa ra - ;!(u - v£. 
And now he summons up courage to tell them. 


^ This is the heroic exclamation. Had he continued the verse it 
would have ended ri vv fiOL /ur/Ktora jivrjrai ; 

* Hermann's reading. 




t6 te Aaft - da - Ki - dav ye v 


t5 Zti'. 





h h 

ad - At - ov 



oav; Se - og la -;)(£- re /ur? - Stv - od av - ow. 

I Spoken. 

(TV yap oS' £t; 



2 I i , . 
4=ig! a^l=^ 1^ 

(1), U), 

1^ h 

cv(T - fio - pog 


> >\ \ i-^ ^ I ! f^ M I J I 

Fu - ya - rep, tl ttot 

Ti - Ka (cvp - au 

Now he has told them that he is a parricide, and 
everything that is unholy, and they break out into a 
storm of maledictions against him. "Away from our 

^ Hermann's conjecture. 


land ! " they cry, " nor bring the vengeance of the gods 
against us." And this is how the Music expresses the 
the confusion of the moment, rushing off into broken 
Hexameters, that are so powerful and passionate. 


2 1 N h 


^ ^ 




4 «.. V 1^ 


i^ «' 


OV - §£ - VI 

) - t - di 

- a 

Ti - mg 



- x^-rm 

1 > h 


— 1^ — ^ — 

— i"~ 

— •! — ^— 

— a^~ 

— 9 — ^ — 

S)v TTpo-ira - 


TO rt - 


' CITT - d - 


S' OTT- d - 

J I J" 


h h 


h h 

» S ^ 


9) «' 


...^. .^ 

raig tr - e - 


tr - £ - 


Trap - a - 


-XojU - £ - 

1 h ^ 

— ^ 9 — ai — 


— 91 — al — 

§w - 


mv £ 



Xd- piv, 


- Tl - St - 

1 h ^ 


— a^— 


t^ - pd - 




ird -\iv 


<^ ^ ^ 

^(EtV. (TV Se 

• TO-irog 

1 h h 

> ^ 

1^ ^ 

— -a^ — 

— ^ — ^ — 

av - Big a<p - 


fiog Ifx - 





f/C - 


00 - p£, 


0i ^ 


:»• ^ 

jUrj rt TTE - 

pa X9^- oe 

3 -f ^ 


-J* J - ' 


■■ ^ (P* 

9 9 . 

£/x - a TToX -££ TTpoa-dip - yg. 
" But where is your promise to me ? " says CEdipus. 

1 This is another of Sophocles' admirable conclusions, and but one 
of many that he uses to conclude those runs of 4 foot Hgxanieters, gf 
which he is so fond. 


" For you promised me protection when I left the 
grove. Is this Athens, that boasts to be so hospitable 
to strangers? if you would turn a poor old man 
away, who did his crime unwittingly, as any one 
might have done had they been in his case." And 
so he entreats them to let him stay till at least the 
king of the country should be sent for, who would 
decide whether he was to go or stay, for he says 
that his staying there will be the greatest boon the 
country can have, and so at last they agree to 

And meanwhile a diversion occurs in the plot, for 
Antigone sees some one approaching in the distance, 
whom she soon knows to be her sister, Ismene. 
And Ismene has travelled all the way from Thebes, 
to tell (Edipus that Creon, king of Thebes, is coming 
with a band of warriors to seize him and carry him 
back to Thebes, that he may die there. For the 
oracle had said that wherever (Edipus died, it would 
procure happiness and prosperity to the land. 

And now by the entrance of Ismene there were 
three actors on the stage. And this was an 
improvement of Sophocles in Tragedy. For there had 
first been only one actor, and then iF^schylus had 
employed two, and Sophocles employed three. 

And now Ismene comes to tell him that Creon is 
on his way to seize him, and (Edipus is eagerly waiting 
for the arrival of the king of the country, that he 
may beg his protection, and tell him of the boon 
which that protection will ensure to the land. " If 
then,^' says the Chorus (and here they speak, not 
sing), " if you boast that you will be the saviour 
of this land if it protects you, let us tell you what 
holy rites you had best perform to the goddesses of 
this place. First of all, get water from a pure fountain, 



and bring it in a bowl, whose lips and handles you 
must twine with wool. Then bringing the water and 
turning to the East, you must make three libations, but 
for the third libation you must mix honey with the 
water, and empty it all on the ground. Then you 
must cover the ground with olive branches, and make 
this prayer : ' Since men call you Eumenides, and that 
means kind goddesses, be kind then to the suppliant who 
entreats your protection, and save him from those who 
come against him.' " 

In no long time, the king of the land appears, who is 
Theseus, king of Athens, and hearing CEdipus' tale, 
he bids him take heart, and that he will protect him 
from his enemies, and help him to attain the 
consummation of his life, which the oracle had promised 

And then the Chorus turning to (Edipus sing the 
Choral Song : — 

1ST Strophe. 

3 ^ I |3 



ev - ITT - 

TTOV, E,ev - e, Ta.(T - Se ji(w 

You have come, O stranger, to the fairest place. 


> h |3 


ra Kpa - ti& - ra yag eir - av - Aa, 

That this land of fair horses can show. 


yri - ra KoX-ojv - ov , £V0' 

It is white Colonus you have lighted on, 

1 Wunder's reading. 







\i - yu - a fXLV - v - pe- rat 

That rings with the carols of the nightingale, 

h I 


Oa/u - i - Zovaa fxaX - i - ar a ~ rj 

That sits and sings in the eventide, 

All among the brakes of the glade. 


3 , 

4 ^ 

h h 



av - e)(^- ov - aa kkt - 

And she sits up perched on the ivy twigs, 

I 9 ai'i"! w ^ a* 

rav aj3 - ar - ov Os - ov 

Or perched on the laurel in the shady spots. 



^uX- \a - Sa /iVjO - I - o - Kap - ttov av - tj - Xt -ov 

That grows with its hundreds of clustering leaves, 

13 > 


av - rjv ~ ifx - ov te Trav - tu)v 

Out of the sun and sheltered from the storm. 

1 h 

3 1 h h I 13 h i 

X" - ^^ 


6 jdan 



atnz^ I 

El At - d - vv - (Tog ifx - (dar - ev - ei 

These are the glades that Bacchus holds his revels in, 




12 1 h > 13 r 


— e[==i^zi 

?E - oiiq afx - (1)1 - TTO - Xwv riO - i]v - aiQ. 

Romping with liis nurses, tlie Water Nymphs, 

1ST Antistrophe. 

P ^^ J |3 J 

f* 1"^ I 13 ^ I I 

?flX- \h S' ov - pa - vt - ac wtt' a;\; 

And the sweet narcissus and the crocuses 

I h |2 I 1^ h |3 r 


vaq o KaX - \i -/3o- - pvg Kar riju - ap a - sX 

Are the flowers that are fed by the dew. 

> I |3 I 
-^-i-j^ — l4~a^" 

1^ ^ 

3 > I 

vap -K<(7 - (TOC, ^£y- aX - atv 0f - alv 

And these they take for the coronets, 

J 1^ 1 J h f* I I f 

ap - ^ai - ov (jT^^-av - wju , o re 

That tJiey weave for the terrible Eumenides. 


I h h i 

^puo-- av - yrjc )cpo-KOc" ouS' a - ii 

Sleepless streams murmur everywhere, 

r 12 I 


h. h 

TTvoi Korjv - at fttv - vu - ov - ai, 

Spreading from Cephi<;sus' wave, 

I ^ J_|3 J 


Kr)0- i(T - (Tov vo/x - aS - EC pe - (6 

Never failing or diminishing. 

Elmsley's reading. 



pwv, dW 

al - iv Iw 7}jx - ar - I 

But day after day running fresher and clearer, 

:*«• '^ 


WK - V - TO - KOQ TTEO - L - (x)V llT - I - v'kJ - CTE -Tm 

Washing the plains and enriching the fallow-land 

13 h I 


CLK - r\ - pa - rti) ^hv oju - /3pa) 

Of the great broad bosom of the earth. 

J h 13 I h f^ I 13 h i 

(TTsp - vov ~ y^ov -^Bo-vog' ov - ce Mou - 

This is the land that the Muses love, 

11 ^ 2 I 

h ^ 13 I 

ff==:at= -i^zizi^: 

(Tav \op - 01 viv ciTT - B(j- - TV ~ yr}(T - av, nvc a 

And Aphrodite is its patronessj 

I J |2 i h_> 13 1 ^ 

XP^^ ~ av - I - oq 'A0- po - Str - a. 


With the golden reins to her chariot. 

2ND Strophe. 




* — s— ^—Bt- -gi — 


tar - rtv 8' ot-ov ty - w yaq^K(j-i-aq ow/c ett- ok- ov 

(u, ovS' £V ra fxiy-a-\a Awp-i - di va - (jm UiX-o-iroq 










u) - TTO - 7£ |3Aacr - Tov ^vT-evju fiY - £1 - pwr - ov, 

1 — 9 l^^i«« — 1 ^^T — 1 1— n— ^1 — ]-^^~S — 1 Nttt— i — n 

[ifc— <^ M -J—w [-W . ^ «|-|-*' ^. ^ — W_|:^ id . [j 

av - TO-TTOL-ov, ly')(^£(iJV, 0o/3 - J7 - /ict Sa - t - wv, 

o ra - 6£ QaX-Ku /uey-icr - ra ^(v-pn, yAav-Kag 



-IB) ^—^—^- 


~gj lyl gl 







TTOi-oorpo^ou (pvWov eX-ai- ag' rb fxiv rig ov 


p g) ^ jp h -^ a'' i^~ ~a< — a^ — s^ — -gf — 

pog ov - T£ ytj - pa ai]fx -ai - vw 

V a\ 

^^^^Egj ^^^^gES i 

eft ;y^ - pi Trep-aag' 

o yap ai - ev op-wv 





■.VK-\og XiVCT - GH VIV Mop- I - OV At" O^" 

X« 7 


(CW - TTtf 


1 In this as in other instances the odd note is the Anacrusis, and 

shown to be a constituent part of the Rhythm, and not a breaking of 

it, as that frequent Anacrusis which many raetricrians use freely, the 
author as lit'le as possible. 







i^zzez: 1^: 

a\-\ov S' ai-vov e- ^w /lar - (Oo-Tro-Aet ra - §€ Kjoa-rtcr 






Tov, owp-ov rou juey-aXov ^ai-fxo-vor, HTretv, x^<^^og av 




^r) - /la jJ-^y- t(T - Tov, ei) - nr -Troy, tv - ttoj - \ov, 









£u - %a-\aGG(iv. 5) TTcu Kpo-vou, (7i) yap viv Iq 









TOO £1(7 - ag av--)(r}fx , av-at, lloa- H-cav, nr- ttoi - 



- a'-^- a^j-a'— i^-^-gi- 






aiv TOV ctK-Eo- - 7J} -pa xaA( - vov Trpwrat - at rato--6£ 


i -^ 

KTi-aag fly -vl- alg. a S' Ew - t} - QiT-fXog iK - 





TTayX' aA - t - a \£p 

(71 Trap - OTT - TO}X- £V - a 





4— g — ^ 

r(i>v £ic - ar - o/w 



And how gracefully has this 2nd Strophe and 
Antistrophe shaded off into the original rhythm again, 
which is the theme of the Drama ! Or what a flush 
of fine change and contrast do we not notice at the 
beginning of the .2nd Strophe, where that rich Lydian 
measure begins to sing ! And I imagine that the 
Lydian Mode would be here used in the Melody, in 
contrast to some other Mode as the Mode of the ist 
Strophe, though indeed the Lydian in its tenderness 
and beauty would suit admirably with both. 

And let us for a moment examine this beautiful Ode, 
and we shall find that Sophocles has exhausted all his 
art upon it. And first he has employed that most 
excellent grace of contrast of rhythm, which no one 
could use with such effect ; and next the wonderful 
reflection which that Lydian measure gives to the gay 
triumphal sentiment of the 2nd Stophe, is indeed a 
model of Rhythmic Ethos. But what shall we say to 
the melodiousness of the language, and those hidden 
beauties that stud it, and make it fall like the sound of 
flutes on the ear, or like the rippling of water? And 
how has he procured this mellifluousness of sound ? And 
he has procured it by the use of Alliteration and Rhyme, 
which are the Melody of language. These we have 
seen first used by Praxilla, the poetess of Sicyon, and 
we have heard her rhymes before now, and in this very 
measure. And now the art of Praxilla appears again 
in Sophocles, and how much has he enriched it ! And 
we of modern days being accustomed to those mechanical 
rhymes with which our poetry favours us, which come 
like clockwork on the ear, invariably dropping in at the 


end of a line, and using such base and business-like 
arrangement, have no conception of the Art of Rhyrning, 
as it was conceived by such an artist as Sophocles. 
Who indeed can ever compare with him in all things? 
and in this he excels all poets as much as in every 
other branch of poetic art. For he does not rhyme as 
we do, but he throws his rhymes broadcast, like flowers, 
over his music, he sets them in ambush here, and here 
he has them more displayed to strike the ear together. 
And let us examine this Ode, and it is particularly the 
2nd Strophe that we will take as our illustration. And 
we shall find that there are two principal Rhymes 
running throughout it, and the first is w, and the second 
is a, which have their secondary forms, aiv and ag. 
There is also another rhyme, og, which is not used 
however till the end. And now let us rewrite this 
Strophe, this time marking the rhymes, and we will 
mark w as I., and a as II., and their subordinate forms, 
wv and ag, as I (a), and II (a), respectively, and the 3rd 
rhyme, oc, which is little used, we will mark as III. 
And we shall see that the rhymes sometimes occur as 
we found them used by Praxilla, that is, at the 
beginning and end of each bar, and sometimes only at 
the end, and sometimes interspersed in other positions. 

I. II (a). II {a). I. 

13 I III h h I I 1 h [^ I I 1 I** h 1 I 1 

£- (tt\v 8' oi-ov e-y m y a g 'A-(Ji-a g o v k I -TraKO u - w 

II. II. I. II. I. I. 

K (^ 1 I 1 h> N I I I N h I I "I 

ovd' iv T q. fiB-yd -XgAw-pi-St v a - cr m He-Xoirog tt w - 


I N ^ ! 16 I ^ 1 > 


r£ /3Aa(r - rov (j)v-Tevfji a - ^a - p w 


TOV av - TO -TTOl - OV Ij -\^ £ b) V 

M ! KJ^J^I ! ^! 

I S I I ^ I I K I I 
I — a^ — ^—\—v) — a^— [— g< — ^— I 

(j)6 - |3jj - jua ca - C - w v, 

II. II. 

|3 N I I -K ! I 13 r^ ! I > \ I 1 

o TO. - 0£ Qak- Xst ^£ - "yKT - ra \(j) -pa 

II {a). II (^). 

I4 — i l l * l |— 1^ 1^ J B^— |— a^ a< a^ a/— |— »l— 

yAau- K a c Trat - oo-rpo-^ou <pv\-\ov e-Xat - a c> 

I. II. 

13 N i I N I 1 13 N I I K I I I 

ro fAiv Tig OV V £ 0) - pog oh - tb y// -pa 

I {a). I. II («). 

,1 K N I I I N K I I I 
4—^ a^l ^ ^ ^ »!-[— ^ a^ — ^ J— [ —J 

(TJ) - fxai - V 0) V a - \i - lo - au \£ - pi irip - a a g 

I (a). III. 

13 ^ N 13 1 1^ K I I N I I 

|8~ — i^i=g— |4i=g=gzzi^=g=:|z:i^=:gz=:| 

6 yajO ai - £v 6 -jQ w V kv/c -X o c 


X£V(7-0-£i VLV Mo - pi - OU At - O ^ 

II. I. 11. II. 

I 12 I 1^ N I I I 

12 1 h ^ 

\ d -yXau - K w - ttjc 'A -da 


And this is no solitary insiance that we are here 
examining, but they are continually occurring in all 


passages of — time— of which he is marvellously fond. 

Is I N N I I I 1^ !•* I I 1 Px f^ I I 1 ^ ^ I I 
ctiva fxiv ovv §££ - va rap a a- aei (TO-(j)og ol-ojv - o - Oa-r a g. 
or again in another position, 

|3 I N K I I I 1^ 1^ ! I I !«« N I I I is k I } 
£1 - co-rec a V - Sp -wv oti fx av - tiq ifki-ov rj yw (l>i-pe-Tai. 


And indeed — time seems naturally to allure to rhyme 

from the constant pairing of the accents. But we find 
it in other time as well, 

12 1 ^ ^ 1 1 K K I 1 iS i>» j 1 N I i 1 1 

av - TL- TV - TT a 8' £ -TTt 7 rt TTE" (TE TUV - Ttt-Xw-diig 

or in that remarkable instance in the Antigone, 

13 I >I2 I K si I K Nl I S nI I Nil 
7rfl|0 §£ Kv-av-e - d) v Tre-Xd-y £(t) v ^l-^v - fxag aX-o g 

i2 1 ill Is Ni I ^ p*l 1 I I I 'f* I I 

a.K-'T a\ Boer - 7ro- pi - a i iS' 6 Qpij-KU)V a^ - e-v o g 

which is particularly remarkable for this reason, that in 

1 For other instances which swarm throughout the plays of Sophocles cf. 

61 yap 6 fxev Oav w v, ya r£ icai ovSlv a» v, where there is still — 

time. Cf. same play i.e. the Electra. 1233., where there are rhyming 
Dochmiuses. O.C. 216. 218. Rhyming Dactyls. 138. Rhyming Anapaests. 
Cf. also Philoctetes. 1141. 1142. 1145. also lb. 186. &c., &c. 


the Antistrophe also, in the corresponding lines, rhymes 
occur, and at the very places where they occur in 
the Strophe. And these are the corresponding lines of 
the Antistrophe, which are its first two lines : — 

13 I 1^12 1 (*• nI 1 N Nl I K SI 1 f*> ' I 
KttS St ra - KO-fxe -v o i fxeX-e - o i fie-Xe - av iraO-a v 

|2 I III K S|- 1 K Kl I 1 1 I K I |i 
Kkai-o V fxCLT -pog e - ^o v-reg a. - vvfx -0£u - t o v yo-va v 

So that we see well that this was intentionally 
done to produce some particular effect. But not often 
is he so pronounced in his rhymes, for it should 
seem that rhyme is better the hidden flavour to poetry 
than the cream of it, as we make it, or the art of 
rhyming is to make the music without the instrument 
being seen. 

Then there are double rhymes, 

^ For a similar example of this exact repetition of rhyming places 

in Antistrophe, the chorus in the Philoctetes. 

Strophe. (Opening.) 

Opeare p a Trajufiwri V a fia rap avTov Aibi 


oiKTtip^ av a^ TToXXCJv e'A e ^ tv ^vctoicftwv ttovojv. 

The fxa of fiarsp is not however reflected by a rhyme in the Antistrophe. 
I may mention that this is part and parcel of a system of most 
minute repetition that I have again and again observed in the relation 

of the Antistrophe to the Strophe, e.g. aXoyia in the Strophe vfill 
often reappear in precisely the same syllable in the Antistrophe ; a 
long vowel shortened in the Strophe e.g. (t) before a word beginning 
with a vowel, will appear in the Antistrophe as, say, J? before a vowel, 
not as CIV or ov or a termiaation, that is to say, but the identical 
shade of utterance will appear again. &c., &c. I have noticed this 
principally in Pindar. Sophocles is much freer. 



12 I IS ! I I I I N IS I I i I 

TO fiev U - TT W- fUV TO S' CtK OU - (7 W- jJLiiV 


/cat - fXT] XQii -a TTO - AE - fx oj - fiev. 

but these he is very sparing of, and generally, as 
we say, he veils his rhymes instead of obtruding them, 
and by this means he enhances their effect, because 
vvc hear a music that we cannot tell where it comes 

And it is the same with his Alliteration, for this 
yet remains to speak of. For who in reading that 
2nd Strophe, which we are here making our example, 
could tell that there was any alliteration at all in it? 
Although the beauty of its flow would make us 
suspect alliteration, yet we could never find it without 
examining it very closely. And then we shall see that 
there is a most artful alliteration running all through 
it, and giving it a most marvellous unity of effect, 
because it is an alliteration of three letters only, which 
repeat again and again through the Strophe, and in 
this way procure a unity of verbal sound from first 
to last. And the three letters he alliterates on are 
y, X, and TT, and 7 also appears in its softer form, k, 
and TT in its harder, j3. And let us sketch this 
admirable alliteration, which is a type of many 
others in Sophocles. 

7 7 7 7 

e'oTtv S 'otov iyw yag ^Acriag ovk liraKOvoi 


owS' tv TO. fxeyaXq AwpiSt vdato TliXoTrog ttw- 


TTOTE /SXaoTov (pvTevfji cl^Eipw 


TOV aVTOTTOlOV i.y)(^^(t)V 

X y y 

o Tq,ce ddXXei fiiyiara \(jjp(t 
yX y TT TT TT X X 

yXauKag 7raiooTp6(j)Ov (j)vXXov iXaiag 

TO fxiv Tig ov vewpog ovTe yripa 

X y TT 

arjjuaivwv aXiwau )(£pi TTi^aag. 

y y y X 

6 jap aWv opwv kukXoc 


X£VC7(T6t VtV MoptOU AtO? 

y yX y TT 

;\^a yXauKWTTtc ^Addva.^ 

And how they cluster towards the end ! Nor less 
artful are the rhymes, though we missed remarking 
this of them at the time, for over and above that 
artful ambushing of them, which we noticed at the 
time, there is a well defined arrangement of them in 
rhyming Periods, and each Period characterised by 
one rhyme. And there were three rhymes, as we said, 
to, a, oc, with variations of the first two, and there 

1 To the same head may be referred the alliterative jingles which 
occur often in Sophocles, cf. £fX^ S' dXXa filv aXX', dWa B' lir 
dXXoig ETTEVWjita. cf. also jingle on TT and T : — wv TTpoTrdOy to tlvhv 
' cnraTa o diraTaig Irepatg kTepa &c. On these jingles, which 
are less artistic than his developed alliterations, an interesting monograph 
might be written. For I think every one that knows Sophocles will 
admit that his handling of the consonants is one of the most masterly 
things that any age has seen. 


are three Periods to correspond, and the ist Period 
has all its lines closed by the w rhyme, and the 
second has all its lines closed by the a rhyme, and 
the third has its first two lines closed by the og 
rhyme, but its last by the a rhyme, which closes 
the complete Strophe. And now we will venture to 
write it once more in order to bring this out clearly. 

laTiv c oiov lyw yag ^Amag ovk eiraKov w ^ 1st 

oi»S' £v Ta mejaXa Aw/otSt vaadf) IlEAoTroc irw- Rhyming 
TTore (SXaarov (^vTivfi a^up w- Period, 

Tov avTOTTOLttv £7)^ £ (u V I closcd by 

(p6^Ti]fia ^ai (vv J the w rhyme. 

And the first three lines are closed by the w rhyme 
itself, and the second two by its variation, the wv 

o roSe OoXXh fxiyiara x^P « 1 2nd Rhyming 

j\avKag 7rai^oTp6<pov (f)vWov eXa! a g Period, 

TO fiiv Tig ov viwpog owte 7?7p ot closed by 

(rrj/iaivwv aXtwau ^epl iripa ag J the a rhyme. 

And the ist and 3rd lines are closed by the a 
rhyme itself, and the 2nd and 4th by its variation 
the ag rhyme, and this is a form of rhyming structure 
that is used in modern poetry. 

, V ,, , „ , ^ '] 3rd Rhyming Period, with the 
o 700 auv opwv kvkA o g 

y , ,x / A V 1st two Imes closed by the 3rd 

Aevacrei viv Mopiov Ai o g, \ ^, , , , ,. 

, . „ ' -,, 1 Rhyme, og, and the last Ime 

Xa yAavKijjing Aoava.^ I 

J by a. 

1 Often the Rhyme that characterises the Period is made to bring 
in its 1st line, as in the 6J Period of the above, the 1st Rhyme 
heard is the w Rhyme Eortv o' oIov £70*. In the a Period it is ' 
the a Rhyme, o OaWei. In the 3rd Period of the present 
instance it is not so. 


And why he should have chosen to make three 
Rhyming Periods, and to make them of that precise 
length, and to arrange them as he has done, is, 

1 think, not hard to see, for he has done it in 
deference to the Rhythm, for the Rhythm itself falls 
into three distinct periods, each commensurate with 
these rhyming periods that we have given. And the 
1st Rhythmical Period is composed of Choriambuses, 

2 lines, and shades of into Trochees, and thence into 
Iambics, by which it works into the 2nd Period, 
which is composed of Iambuses and Bacchiuses, alter- 
nating with lines of Choriambs. But the 3rd and 
last Period reverts to the theme of the Opera, and 
so brings the Strophe to a conclusion. 

As we may see : — 

\J \J \J KJ \J \J 


WW w w . 

w _ w _ w _ . _ 
w w w 

1st Period. 

w_„w w„w 


w_w w_w 

, WW WW 

2nd Period. 

•1 ww_ww_w ^ 

w. __ww_w_ 3rd Period. 
w. __ww__J 

Now this Periodic Structure of Rhythm is a thing 
we have not noticed before, because it has not come 
prominently before us, that is, we have noticed it in 
its infancy, but never in a developed form. For we 
noticed how the Musical Period of Homer, which was 
commensurate with the line, grew under the hands 
of Archilochus to a Period of 2 lines, and with the 
Lesbians to a Period of 4 lines, much of our Lied 


Form ; and then under the influence of the dance, 
that was extended to a Period of 8 Hnes, counting 
the Strophe and Antistrophe as one Period. In that 
state we left it, nor did we follow that inner 
working of Musical form by which the Strophe and 
Antistrophe should be independently periodised, which 
since the conception of them as one Period was 
rather a theoretical one than a practical one, and 
left free working within quite open to the poet, was 
a thing which in due time took place. And we 
might have noticed it in the Music of Pindar, but 
there it was very loosely conceived, and perhaps when 
we find it, it is an unconscious gravitation towards a 
form than any definite and matured intention. And 
also the relaxing influence of the Dithyramb would 
appear to have been too strong in Pindar's day to 
encourage any plastic formulation of detail, but he 
was more concerned with the general effect of the 
whole, than disposed to spend labour in elaborating 
the parts. And yet, as I say, we might have 
noticed it in his music, for the ist Olympian is an 
excellent example of such Periodic structure as that 
we are now treating of. 

w__ww_w__w_ww__ ] 1st Period. 

www — W WW WW WW ' 

_ W — W — W — 

_ w _ w w _ • _ 

_w_ w _w_ I 2nd 

_W_W — WW_W_W W — WW w_w_ 

— W — W — W — W WW w 

WWWWWWW — w w w 


W w_www 

W W — W_WWW — 

W_WWW_W — W — 

3rd Period. 
Where there are clearly three well defined periods in 



the Strophe, the ist characterised by Iambuses and 
^- feet, the 2nd by Trochees and Paeons, and the 3rd 
by Dochmiuses and Paeons. 

But now in the Epoch of Tragedy, when all the 
arts or gropings of the past had reached their 
maturity, and received their full development, we may 
see this inner periodic structure of the Strophe and 
Antistrophe take its place as one of the recognised 
arts of the Musician. And all the choruses of 
Sophocles will more or less readily reveal such a 
method of structure in their Strophes, and one or 
two of those which reveal it most easily we will now 
give. And I have noticed that the Philoctetes is 
peculiarly happy in its illustrations of Periodic 
Structure, as for instance let us take that chorus, 
\6yw jutv t^riKovcT, " I have heard of the man, but 
have never seen him " — 

w_w— I w • — w — I \J — \j — I I 

— ^^1— yl— ^yl— ^yl j ist Period. 

— \J 

W I _ • I _ 

I — \J \J — I — \J \J — I — WW — 

I — wwl — wl — wl — wl 

w w- |w_lw_lw_- I 

— ww!_wi — w|_' I 

_wwl_wl_- |_ I 



WW — I W_W — I —WW — I W — W — 

— WW— I W_W— I — WW I — w I _ 


where we have 3 distinct Periods, the first composed 
of Iambic and Dactylic feet ; the 2nd, with greater 
variety, of Choriambs, and the Iambic feet, with an 



admixture of Cyclic Dactyls ; the 3rd, almost entirely 
of Choriambs, alternating with Diiambuses, with a 
phrase from the 2nd Period occurring as a refrain 
at the end. 

Or that Chorus which follows it, which is constructed 
in two Periods, the first composed of Dactyls and 
Spondees, the second of Spondees and Paeons. P'or the 
construction in three Periods, though the commonest, 
is not the only one : — 

'Ytti'' ocvvag ucarjg, "Yttve c oA-yttuv, 

_ww I __ 1^^ I __ 

EUdfc r/^Ty tXOoig, S)va^, 
__ I __ I __i __ I 
evai-wv £u - ai(i)v, (bva^, 


ofxfiaai S' dvTiG\oig 

- I — I - ^^ I -^ I - • ! 

Tiivo alyXav, a rarar - ai ra - vvv. 

w w w w I I f^ Ij 

Wi Wi jJLOi Trmu)v. 


- ^^ ^ I - - I I 

<1) TEKVov, op - a TTOv aTUaH 

TTOi 0£ iSacTsi, TTtog 0£ /xoi TavTtvOzv 
_ w w w I _ _ I (^ I 

(ppovTicoQ. op - oc rj. - Sr; 

— w w w I _ _ I fS 
TTpog Ti fievojuev irpaaaeiv ; 

--I- |--|_-|p| 

Kaipog TOi wavTiov yvw/zav 'ict-)(^u)v 
TToAv Trapa iroda Kparog apvvrai. 



60 1 

So that this is constructed in two Periods, and we have 
instances of construction in four Periods, as that 
Chorus in the CEdipus Rex :— 

\J \J j WW I \j \j \ w \J 

Ttg ovTiv a Oecnrii - ireia AeX^tc £t7r£ Trtrpa 

W w I \J \J l—w Iwj W \J I 

appr]T appiiTOJV nXiaavra (poivi-atai ^ipcriv ; 

\j : — w w I _ w _. j 

ujpa viv a - tXAaSwv 

w j _ w w I ^ — I 

tTT-TTWv aOevap-Lorepov 

KJ l w w I 

0u - yo TTOoa vu)uav. 



ww_|w w_iww_| I 

IvoTTAog yap ett' civtov lir^v-Q^ixyGKH 

\j \j jww |w \j WW 

TTvpt /cat arepoTTctig o Afo? yfvtrof, 


w I w 

oeivaL up tTTOVTai 

w w w I w 

Krjpeg avaTrXdKif}roi. 


1 For other examples of this periodic structure, see Trachiiiiae. 821. 

Chorus in Four Periods, ist to irpovoiag, and to TTOVUJV, 3rd to 

opviog, composed of fragments of ist Period, 4th to end, the last 
line of this period as so often is the case being mixed of fragments 

of 1st Period. lb. Strophe j3 in 2 Periods, 1st to aXXoOpov, 2nd to 

end. Ajax. 221 Chorus in 2 Periods, ist to KXyt^opivav, 2nd to end 
with concluding line, as is so often the case, quite free. lb. 596. ist 

Strophe in 2 periods, ist to a8i, 2nd characterised by Iambuses and 
Antispasts, -with fri.e concluding line. 2nd Strophe in 3 Periods, ist 


And we have been compelled to leave the CEdipus 
Coloneus to search for examples, because, as I have 
said, the influence of the Theme of the Opera is so 
pronounced in that play that it overrides many of the 
arts of structure which have liberty to expand them- 
selves when the theme is not so strongly asserted. 
For it is plain that in that case the periodic structure 
will be very much weakened, if the theme persistently 
entwines among the Periods, and so assimilates them 
very much to each other. 

This then, as I say, is the secret of the structure 
of most of Sophocles' Choruses, and in this way we 
find the development of the Period, that began with 
Homer and Archilochus, has reached a most elegant 
maturity ; for inside the outer framing of the Strophe 
we find the most plastic art of structure is at work to 
procure harmony and contrast of the parts. And let 
us now notice how the Art of Form has grown since 
the times of Homer, for the play of feet with him 
has now become the play of Periods, for the 
complete Strophe answers to his Line, and the 
Periods that compose it to its single Dactyls 
and Spondees. So thoroughly does Tragedy seem 
to sum up and exhibit in most excellent maturity 
all the pointings of the past, being a general meeting, 
ground, so to speak, in which all the art of past 
ages seems to combine in harmonious union. For 
what form or phase of Musical Art that we have 

to vocrovvTa. 2nd beginning with imitation of the conclusion of ist to 

aWivov. 3rd characterised by ^ time to end — last line bringing in 


fragments of 2nd Period. Electra. 472. Chorus in 3 Periods, ist to 

ao({>ag, 2nd to oveiparivv, 3rd to end. Last line mixture of 
characteristics of all 3 periods, Sfc., &c, 


considered in previous pages is unrepresented here ? 
Tliere are the rhymes of Praxilla, the accent play of 
Sappho, the Iambics of Archilochus, his Trochees too, 
the Hexameter of Homer we have seen raising its 
head among the Iambics, the countless bevy of feet 
that we saw springing up in the Cretan Dances, the 
Anapaests of the Spartans, the War Dances of the 
Dorians, the Flutes and Lyres, the Strophes and Anti- 
strophes, the Epodes of Stesichorus, the Marches of 
Tyrtaeus. It has swallowed up the Dithyramb, and 
taken in the Paean. There are the recitations of the 
Rhapsodists, and the mummery of the Satyrs. Here 
are Apollo and Bacchus united, and what masters to 
write them music ! Then all the Modes of Pythagoras 
are here, and the Scale Diatonic of Terpander, and the 
Enharmonic of Olympus. There is the learning of 
Lasus that bred young Pindar, and all the arts of 
Pindar are seen flushing on the stage. Thespis has 
reached his climax, and as the stately pageant moves 
in the great theatre, or the Chorus goes sweeping 
round the Altar in the centre, do not our thoughts 
even carry us back to those ancient Aryans, who 
were the parents of all, who moved with their 
hymns and solemn dances round their simple turf 
altars, as they worshipped the beauty of the Sun ? 
I think so, for I think that they too may claim 
their share in the stately fabric wc now see ^before 

Now I have spoken of the learning of Lasus and the 
art of Pindar, by which I mean his contrapuntal art 
that he got from his master. And in this respect, if 
we had the leisure, we might show Sophocles' profound 
musicianship. For Imitations, and Inversions, and 
Imitations by Contrary Motion, and recte and retro 
passages are most common in his writings, and handled 


with exquisite grace and tact. For how admirable are 
these Real Imitations : — 

w w I _ w_„ I 

fxarrtp viv orav voaovvra 

\j \j \j \ ^ KJ 1^ 

^pevoiuo-pwg aKOvcnj 

where the second line, which is the beginning of the 
second Period, starts with an imitation of the con- 
cluding line of the first. 

Or that dramatic and sustained Imitation in the 
Electra : — ^ , 

- -i -- --I 
XO. Koi vvv VTTO yaiag 

w w I 

}rlA. t % lu) 

XO. Trdjuttpv -XOQ ava(T(Tei. 
(j)ev diiT 6\oa yap 

w w _ 
HA. e^dfit} 

- II 
XO. vai. 

Or in the CEdipus Rex, where the Chorus have been 
singing in Paeons, and CEdipus breaks in on them with 

Ti aoL deXeig Srjr* HKcido) ; 

And then, leaving the Paeons after a moment they 
go on to the imitation of this phrase : — 

Ajax. 626. 


:_w_|_w_|_ vy_|_ vy_ w_w_ 
Tov oure Trpiv v/j7rtov vuv t \v o^K.^^^ fxlyav KaratSfcrai. 

And how does this reflect the spirit of the words : — 

" My mind is bent on slaughter," says Philoctetes, 


<j)Ova (pova voog 7jSrj 

\J WW 

XO. Ti TTore ; 

1 w w [ w w I 

tE>IA. irare - pa fxa - reuwv 

For it is the slaughter of himself he means, and the 
Music repeats the same phrase, for though the words 
are different, the meaning is the same, " I go to seek 
my father." This Imitation is so remarkable, because 
it stands out amid a great monotony of metre (the 
4-foot Dactylic). 

What admirable use has he made of the Imitation 
by Contrary Motion in those Anomoeostrophas of the 
same play : — 

TL TOVT eAet^ag , 

61 (TV rctvS' ifxol (TTvyepav 
Tpijoada yav fx rjXTrKrag a^HV. 

Tode yap voio Kparicrrov. 

Where the Rhythm proceeds recfe as far as the middle 
of the third phrase, from which it proceeds note by 
note, by contrary motion, until it arrives at the 
conclusion of the fourth, thus : — 

I 2 3 4 I 5678 
w— w_ I w_w_ 

9 10 II 12 13 I 14 15 16 17 

W_WW— I — WW — 

I I7I6I5 14 I I3I2II 109 I 8765 I 

I -^ww_ I ^ww_w I _^w_w I 



Or that other similar art of Pindaric construction, 
where, for the sake of freedom of working, the first 
hne of the Ode is constructed recte et retro, as in the 
first Chorus of the Trachinise : — 







\ ( 

^ 1 

\J \J \J — \J \J \J \J \J \J \J \J 

with an odd syllable at the end. 

And sometimes he brings out the effect of an Echo 
by the employment of Real Imitation : — 

As where the Chorus chides Philoctetes in his 
wildness^ echoing the notes, but in a subdued tone, 
which he is singing — 

p_|ww I VJW___| \J \j I 

^W. firj irpog dpaiov Aiog iX-dr]g tKErtuai. 


XO. juerpm^E. 

In the Electra : — 



_ w _ I _ w _ 
fxi] fxe vvv fir)KiTL 
WWW— I w — 
Tcapayayrig 'Iv ov 

Ti (pyc ; 

And this is common in Question and Reply. 

In another part of the same play we have a series 
of these Echoes, which are his laments that interrupt 
the tenor of the choral song : — 



XO. {ending) KpvTTTovcriv ticrjAot 


£ £ aiat 

- -j ^ 

w_ 1 


S) TTol Tl 

^uKpveig ', 

--I y 


jUJjStv fiiy 


w w _ 



1 T 


- 1 

But that play of Subject and Counter-Subject, which 
we noticed in the Odes of Pindar, he does not so 
commonly use, but rather the working of one Leading 
Theme, or Lett Motive, which is more natural to the 
Dramatic style, and seems periodically to alternate with 
the Two Subject method of working, in the history 
of Music. 

And now from this we will go back to our play 
again, and see it on to its conclusion. And the 
Chorus having sung their Ode, and so bid CEdipus 
welcome to their land, and they assure him of their 
protection too, which the King has promised him, 
" Now, brave men," cries Antigone, " now show your 
your words good," for as she speaks Creon enters with 
a troop of soldiers to seize CEdipus and carry him 
away to Thebes. And finding the Chorus determined 

^ For other examples of Imitation, &c., see Pliiloctetes. 139. 141. 
176. 177. (admirable example.) O.R. 1207. sq. (extended and much 
developed.) Electra. 184. 185. (Free Imitation). 1,422-3. The theme of 
the O.C. it will be noticed is constructed to read the same recte et 
retro, like so many themes are. 


to resist him, he endeavours to persuade them that he 
is in the right, and that Qidipus is not worthy of 
their protection. But say what he may they will not 
give him up, and Creon in revenge orders his soldiers 
to seize Antigone and Ismene, and carry them off 
instead. At this the Chorus raise the tocsin, and 
summon all liege subjects to come to their assistance. 

I 1^ I ! ^ ! I h 1 I N i ! 

|3 a>' ^ g' a' sf I g< «i^ "^ a^ ~~ iy | 

Trpo-jSaS"' Zi - §£, /3a - re, jSar' ev - tott -ot 

I N ^ K I i"^ I I p«» N p* 1 ^ I I 

TTO- Ajc \v - ai - per - at, tto -\iq l-fxa, <j^iv-H. 

j K I I N I I 

1 8 — ^ — a^ 'g' •jg' — ^ — I 

7rpoj3-a3^' a> - Se fxoi. 

For it is the Dochmius rhythm that they call for 
aid in. 

What deployings and spectacle of military take 
place on the stage and in the orchestra, while Anti- 
gone and Ismene are being dragged away by main 
force by Creon's soldiery, with the Chorus in battle 
array in the orchestra ! And Creon prevails. " Never 
more," he shouts, " shall you have these staves to 
lean on, CEdipus, but henceforth you must walk alone." 
And the blind CEdipus calls out to Antigone, " My 
child, where are you?" And he hears her voice in 
the far distance, as she is dragged away by the 

A moment, and the King of Athens appears on 
the stage, for he has been told of the outrage, and 
now all is hurry and confusion. And now for the 
first time in the play the Iambics of the dialogue 
change to racing Trochaics : 



16 I K I Nl I N 1 \s\ I N I KI I !•<• I I 

Tig TToCI' r) /3o - {] ; Ti Tovpyov ; Ik Tiv-og (j)6- j3ov tto-te 


(iovOvTOvv-ra fx cifi-cpl (icofxov e(r--)^£T ev-aX-i - 10 6^-b) 

I I is ! Si si k 



I K I 

TOv^^ lir-KT-TaT - y KoAwv-ou ; \£^a-0\ 0)g d - ow to ttciv 
ov XUfJiv oEVjo' y - u,a da(T(TOv rj koO' 1)- oov - vyv tto-coq. 

" Rouse all the people," he gives the watchword, 

" and make them come on horse and foot, flocking 

in their troops to the crossways, and we will give 

And now the alarm is raised, and the pursuit is 

off, and the Chorus sing their Second Ode, and this 
is the Martial Chorus : — 

|3 J |3 J 

s K 1 |3 K I 

7]l' 01 



S ^ J 

S I 

av - c, 

p(jjv Tax £7r - <(T - Tpo-(pai 

I I I I Ski 


Tov \aX - KO - /3o- av "A - pr] 


pi^ - ov - (Tiv, i) irpoQ Hvi 

13 J |2 I J^ K 



fi-ira- aiv aK - Taig, 


R R 



16 h I l> I 13 I K ^ I 

ov TTor - VI - ai 

(JSjuL - va TlO - TjV 

-I I S I 

ovv - rai Ti - Arj 

dvClT- Old - (V, MV Km XP^*'" • £ " « 

I I h I I 

/uoA - TTt - oaa^. 


13 1 I 

14— a* a^- 

I h h I I 

oi - ^at 0r) - (T£ - a koi 

IG h- I 



6 - pel - fdd -TCiv Tag S«(t - toX- 


\3 I 12 I N > 
ao - jUrj - rac cio 

1 K I 

eX - ^«c 

:*— at 

avr - ap - kh rax ifx - fu% - hv j3o - « 

(2 1 

routrS' dv - a X^P" ^^^ ' 


"Would that I were where the wheelings of warriors are 
gathering and marshalling the roaring war ! Perhaps it is at 
the Pythian shore, or at Eleusis, where the torches burn," 




|3 J 3 I 

TTOV TOV i(j) - ia - TTE - p( 

S N 1 


TTST - pag vi(j) - a - ^og tteX -okt' 

01 - d - Ti - SoC EK 





TTwX - ot - aiv, i) pifKJ) - apju - (lt -oig 

13 J |2 I S k I I 

(pEvy - ov - reg a/u. - iX - \aig. 



a - \u) 

10 - (7£ - rat 

hi ! 



^Hv - og 6 irpoa- 



\wp -MV "Ap -r{g, 

^H - va C£ Qy\(J - H - SoV UK - fXCl. 

I I f^ I I I 1 N I I i I S I I 

TToc 7flp da-rpaiT -th xaX- i -voc? Traaa 6 op-jua- 

N I 


rai Ka - ra 





ajUL - TTVK - r{] - pi 

6 I 


~ a TTWA-WV 

ciju - po(T - (C, ot rav ITT 

3 I 2 

TLf-l - 




rOV TTOV - TL - OV Jttl- tt - 0\ - OV 



3^z:|— iz^i^^ 

PfOe (j>l - \oV VI - OV. 

"Or perhaps they are nearing the western side by the snow- 
capped mountain by CEa, riding on horses or racing in 
chariots, flying along. Creon will be taken. Fearful warriors 
are the sons of Theseus. For every bit comes flashing, and 
every steed comes dashing. Such are the soldiers who worship 
Athene, and the earth-shaking king, Poseidon." 

And let us notice the pomp of those Epitrites : 

TTcig yup aarpaTTTH ^aXivog ttcktci S' opfxciTUL Kara. 
2ND Strophe, (which is characterised by Epitrites.) 


1** J 




)ov - aiv, 7/ 

fxtk - A 

OV - (TLV ; wg 

TTpo/u-va - rciL tl fxoi 
yvw-jua rax Iv - Swcr- uv 




^ I 


Set - 

va T. 


tV, §£ 


^ I I 

va 6 £vp - 


aav irpoQ av 


jMov ira 

2 - Or]. 

6 h 1 

h 1^ 

-i^ h 1 h 

8 * ^ ■ 

'» S tt 

* "'"^ ^ ■■■ ■* 

r£- Xtt 

te-XeT Zev^ 

! j J 

rt icar' d - /xap* 

h i 

— ^ — » ^ — 

fiav - Tig 

1 h 

a// £(T0 - Xwv 

1 1 

a - -yw- vwv. 

1 ^ 

^ .«^ 

•1 ^ 

It S 

. ^ ... 

e\ - Xal 


rax - vp - pw(T - . 

h I ! 



ei - ag 


I h hi J I 

3 I 

L - ag ve-^eX - ag Kvp - aai - jut 

=*!=»= t«l=a!: 

ivo a 

y - wv - wv 


oj - pi] - aa - ara rov - fxov ofi - jxa. 


"Would that I were a dove, that I might soar and see the 
battle that raged beneath ! " 

(For he would see the battle as some picture. He 
would make an art of war.) 






I ^ J I ^ I I 

TTavTOTT - ra 7rop-otf 

r* h h I h I I 

yac racr-Se da - iuov-\oig 

I. St 


J I -L i"* I J 

-a^ ^ 9)- 

aVtV - H TTL - Vt - KEt - UJ TOV cu " ay 

1 _> I 

I I I h J 

pnv Tt 

X-ft - W(7 - 




(Tifi-va re TraTc riaX-Xae 'A0 - a - va, 

1 7—^ ^ — jgi ,1- 


KOL TOV ay - peu - tuv 'Att - oX - Xa> 

I ^ J 1 I I h j I 

Kol KOS- - i ■» yVTJ - TaV TTVK-VOCr - TfK ' 

11 > \ I 

TO}V OTT - a 





d)K - U - 770 - 6(x)V i\ - d - (j>U)V OTEp - Jlx) StTT 



Aag ao 


h) - yag 

h J 11 I _f J I ^ J I 

Hv yq. rn - oe Kai tt 

oX - t - 



And this Chorus hke the former one is based on the 
rhythm of the Theme, though freer in its treatment, and 
it gains an agitation by the shortening of the ist bar, 
which should be J*, J | but he shortens it to J | 
and so he communicates an abruptness to it, of which 
the ear at once recognises the intention. And the 
Dance to which this Chorus was sung, was, I imagine, 
the Thermaustris, perhaps, or some bold and furious 
dance, which only would be in keeping with the feelings 
of the hour. 

And the battle has ended with the defeat of Creon's 
soldiery, and the recovery of Antigone and Ismene, who 
now are brought on the stage, and restored to the arms 
of their father. And how does Sophocles paint that 
meeting ! What words can give an idea of his 
tenderness ! And the Chorus full of compassion for the 
blind old man, and thinking of the sorrows he endures, 
sing the noble Ode that follows. And this we may 
describe as the Reflective Chorus of the play. And it 
is in the Rhythm of the Theme, which this time is 
most closely kept : — 


juep -ovg 

He that will still be living on, 




1 h r* 1 I 1^ 

■)(py - Z,H TOv fiiT - pi - ou irap-eiQ 

When the noon of life is past, 

Z,(x) - eiv, CKai - oa - vv - av (pvX-acr - 

« Shall, when all is said and done, 

l^r h hi 

3 r r 

- 1^ a<- 

cT(i)v ev ijx - 01 Kar - a 

or] - \og ea - rai. 

Still be proved a fool at last. 

hill > h I I ^ I 

£7r - £t TToX - \a jUiv al /.(ok -pal 

Length of days can only brine 


hi I 


pat Kar 'Si 

TO S17 

Grief i and sorrows in their train, 


XvTT - ag lyy - v - rep • at, 

hi I h ^ J 


16 h I h I 

O'JK av to 

h ! 


ra Tip - 
Joy is then a banished thing, 



Pleasures never come again. 
h I I 

OT - av Tig eg 

irXi- ov iri - <t>7 

Still they love their little life, 

h 1 


"^ '& 

TOV de -Xov - Tog, ovS' £ - TTt /CO - pog 

Clinging fretfully unto it, 



> ^^^^ 


Till the king with terrors rife, 
Hades comes that will undo it. 

j> ^ h h h ^ I ^ h > I ^ 

"A- V - 00c or - f Moip Itv - vfx-Bv- ai - og 

That is Death, the spectre dire, 
Death the foe of dance and song, 

a\ - vp - og ax- op - og civ - a - 7ri(j)-riv - e, 

Where no love is and no lyre. 


N K K 






^ ^ <^ ' 





uav- aT- og 


rtX - 


- Tav. 

These delights to life belons 


\xr\ (pvv - ai Tov air - av - ra vik - 

'Tis best not to be born at all, 

a \6y - ov' TO S', £ - 7ra ^av - ^, 

But when life is on us pressed, 

hill h h I i 1^ I I 

j3fjv - ai KU - diV od - £V TTEjO r} 

Then to die ere life can pall, 

-w) w^ — ^— |— »i ^ wf— \—M^—^—\—^ a^— I 

KEi TTO - Xi) dev - rep - ov wg rax - «'^ - to. 

That is much the second best. 
S S 


^ 1 I .N h I I K I 

ioq i\)T av TO ve - ov Tra - py 

For when youth has come and gone, 

KOI) - (pag afj) - poa-vv - ag (pip - ov, 

With its lightness and its folly, 

1 h I I ^ h I I h I 1 

Tig ttXcij - \dr] TToX-v/ii - o\ - 66g it, - 

Who would choose to struggle on 

ti) ; Tig ov Kajx - a - tlov ev - i ; 

In a world so melancholy ? 

If N I h I I h I h i I 

(pov - 01, aTUa-eig, ip - ig, jua^- ai, 

Cares and floutings and derisions, 
Battles, jealousies, and fears, 

I ^ J hi h > h I [ 


KUL (puov- og' TO re kut - a/x- ejuir-TOv 

These come crowding in divisions. 
As the lot of length of years. 

£7r - 1 - XeA - oy - ;>^£ 

And at last to end the play, 

I ■ i> ^ 1^ h h h I ^ h |s I ^1 

TTv/x-OT - OV ciK - pa- Tig aTT-poa-ofi - i - Xov 

Comes old age and loss of friends, 

yrip - ag a(p - i - Xov, 'iv - a 7rpo-7rav- Ta 

Strength and manhood pass away, 


|3 K IS S I f K I I N II 

KOK - a KaK. - WV ^VV - 01 - KH. 

And this is how the drama ends. 


[ONI I Is I ^ I N I |3 ■ h 1 I 

l8=i^~^ — ^=^zzi|z:ii^zz^i:— ^zii^z:l8=a^— ^^1 
£V w rXd-fiMV 60', ovfc £y - a> /lov-oe, 

OEdipus and I together, 
Leaders of this greybeards' meeting, 

IS I IS ' Is I K 13 1 is 

I — wf Hi — api ^—\--w wi — a^-— ^— Is — ^ *" 

Trav - TO- Oev jSop - si - og wg rig cik - ra 

Bear the brunt of M'intry weather, 

I I P* 1 I |6 IT^ i> is I Is is - I Is I 

Ki»^ - ar - o -TrXrj^ ')(^ei - /xep - i - a kXov - et - rai, 

Like a rock tlie Avaves are beating. 

I I I I 1"^ N is I ^ 1 

wg Koi Tov - o£ KUT - UK - pug 

Woes and son^ows fall around him, 

I I II *l"3^ IS Is I IS I 

dnv - at KVfi - ar - o - a - yug 

Breakers threaten him before, 

I I I \"T^ Is is IT^ Is Is I I SI IS I 

j— ^— |— ^- — ^— ^ — wt ^ — ^— |— ^ ^— ^ ^ I 

ciT - ai kXov-e - ov ^ (Tiv a - H ^vv-ov - aai, 

Stormy waves and eddies bound him. 
And he lives amid their roar. 

|2 I IS N I I N K I I I I I i 

at juev aV a - eX - i - ov over - fxav, 

And some out of the West come 


at ^' dv - a - TeX - \ov - rog, 

Some leaping from the East afar, 


al S' av - a jUtcr - aav iIk - rlv, 

Some where the mid-day sun is glancing, 

I i K iV ^ 12 I K l> I I III 

ai 0£ vv_Y - (■ - «v aw - o pt - rrav. 

Some from the twinkle of the Northern star. 

And seeing how this chorus is so different in 
sentiment to that gay idylhc Chorus, evlinrov ^ivs, and 
yet observes the same Rhythm, I think we must 
imagine the difference of sentiment to be expressed, 
since it certainly is not expressed by the Rhythm, 
to be expressed rather by the Time, or by the 
Melody perhaps. For slow time would marvellously 
change this rhythm in sentiment, or a grave and 
plaintive melody would do the same. And if that gay 
bright Chorus in which they bid him welcome to Colonus 
was, as we think, in the Lydian Mode, , and accom- 
panied by the Lydian Flute; this may have been in 
some grave Mode like the Hypodorian, and perhaps 
it was accompanied by the mournful notes of the 
Phrygian Pipe. For Sophocles was the first to 
introduce the Phrygian , Mode into Tragedy, and 
perhaps he introduced the Phrygian Pipe with it. 

But now we must hasten on to the end of the 
drama. For there has a strange calm come over the 
scene, like the lull that precedes a storm. And the 
Chorus begins a plaintive strain, and as they sing a 
peal of thunder crashes through the theatre. Then 
does (Edipus know that his hour has come. " Who 



will go and bring King Theseus to me?" he cries, 
for he knows that the hour has come when he is to 
die. And the thunder begins to roar. " This is the 
thunder of Zeus which leads me to my grave." " This 
is the end of my life, and there is no drawing back." 
And still the thunder roars. How does the music 
take its part in the scene ! For amid the thunder is 
heard the wild song of the chorus. Is this the 
music of the Theme they are singing ? 

tS - £ fxaX 

a juty - ag tp - et - tts - rat 

13 1^ N :^ 

2 N ^ N 1^13 K i> ^| 

Is I 

KTVTT-OQ acj) - UT -OQ O - §£ Si - O- j3o- Xof" Iq S' UK-paV 

For do we not recognise the selfsame subject with 
which that gay chorus of welcome had opened? 

|3 Is I 

3 I 

I 3 IS I 

ev - ITT - irov ^£ - v£, Taa 



Kov ra Kpa - rtcr - ra yag ett 


But how wild and frightened is it now! and with 
what art has Sophocles transformed it! 

" Haste, haste for the King 1 " and the messengers 
fly, while still the angry weather roars. " Theseus," 
says CEdipus, when at last he arrives, " this is the 
moment that I told you of, when it is fated that I 
die and this land become my grave. What boon it 
will be to you I have already told you, and now 


it behoves you to attend me to the spot I shall 
conduct you to, and partake in the ceremonies of 
my obsequies." With that they depart on their solemn 
errand, and the Chorus sing a solemn prayer to 
Zeus and to those awful goddesses who watch over 
the safety of their land. 

Their prayer has ended, and a messenger enters, 
"(Edipus is dead. I saw him go with Theseus, no 
longer trembling and unsteady in his gait, but himself 
leading the way, walking unmoved among the play 
of the elements, erect and firm. And when they came 
to that strange place, where they say is a ladder leads 
to Hades, he stood in one of the many crossing 
path's there, between the hollow pear tree and the 
Thorician rock, and then he sat him down, and put 
off his tattered gown, and bade his daughters bring 
him water from the running streams. And they 
washed him, and decked him in royal robes, and then 
Zeus thundered from beneath. The girls shuddered 
with dismay, and falling on their knees they begged 
their father not to leave them so ; and beat their 
breasts and wailed aloud. And he, folding his arms 
around them, cried, " My children, you have no longer 
any father. For he has died already, and will be 
the tax on you he has been, no more now. It has 
been a hard burden on you, my children ; but one 
word may put an end to all your trials. For no 
one could love you more than I have done, and now 
you must live without me." Then they all wept 
together, and there was silence in heaven for a space, 
when suddenly a voice was heard, " CEdipus, CEdipus, 
why do you delay ? Why do you linger and delay ? " 
And CEdipus took Theseus by the hand, and made 
him swear never to forget his daughters, but to take 
them under his care, and provide for them as long 


as he lived. Then turning to them he bid them 
depart and show themselves women, for no eye must 
see what was next to occur. And they departed 
with many tears, and we conducted them away. And 
in a short time we returned and saw only 'King 
Theseus there, and he was holding his hand to 
shade his eyes, as if he had seen something 
strange. And here the two girls come, for I see 
them approaching." 

Enter Antigone and Ismene. 
1^ i> 1 I ^ i 1 I** ! K I 



I2 I i> l> I I N N I l>»» N I Is I I 
l4z:iz:=*=^=l=i»t=i=i=|zi*==i^zza|— ta^=z:«l=at=| 

ov TO fxh', oX - Xo o£ firi Trar-pbg ifi - <pv - rov 

aX -acT - Tov 01 - fxa over - fi6 - poiv otev- a^ - eiv, 

|2 I IS ^ 

2 1 IS N I is (S 


J---^ -^ 





IS !S 

^ - 


oX -Xor- £ 

' IS K 





£fl - 


TTE- Sov 



0- /i£V, 

Is N 
zM — ^— 

iv TTVfx - ar - w S' ak-o'^ - kt - ra Trap - oi - (ro-fxev 

|G Is I N 1 I Is I 1 I 



ov - TS KiiL wau- ov - era. 




history of music. 











i> I 1^ I ^ ] 1^ I I 

i<T - Tiv fuv fiK - a-crai, ^t\-oi. 

[5i-(3i]K- £v ; 


1 I 1^ I h I I iS I 1^ ] I 

o)g naX-LOT av u ttoO-co Xa/3-otc- 

" He died as you would pray to die. It was not the 
sword, it was not the sea, but those places that we 
cannot see have taken him, and he has been carried 
away invisibly." 

The Dirge. 

And after this is sung Theseus enters, and tries to 
comfort them, and tells them how he will perform the 
promises he has made their father. 

" Be of good cheer, maidens," sings the Chorus, " for 
he will do what he says." 


T T 



An Excursus on the Music of the Ruined Cities of 
Central America. 

The almost utter absence of idols and statues, pottery, that is, 
all plastic art, &c., in Palenque, Copan, and Uxmal, points to a 
much more Spiritual music than either Peru or Mexico possessed. 
Pipes and Flutes have been found figured on the sculptures,^ but 
in the ruined city of Uxmal, in Yucatan, among the decorations 
of the Nunnery, are two figures playing a musical instrument 
resembling somewhat a guitar and a harp.'^ The Flutes and 
Pipes would suggest an analogy to Peruvian and Mexican music, 
but if this sculpture in the Nunnery at Uxmal can be clearly 
authenticate!, it at once raises the music of the Maya Empires 
to a high place among the musics of the old world, since in 
Uxmal, alone of all the American civilisations, is the String to be 
found. And since we have every reason to imagine that Palenque, 
Copan, and Uxmal were all intimately connected, we may expect 
to have heard the same instruments in the musics of all three. 
But until further discoveries have been made nothing certain 
can be said.^ 


A Note on an Ancient Assyrian Instrument, 
There is a pipe of baked clay which has been found in the ruins 

of Babylon. It gives the notes " fm ^ — I ^ — ^^'^ 

Mr. Engel would find in these notes a proof that the Assyrian 
scale was 5 note. Those who would follow his reasonings had 
best refer to his book, " Music of most Ancient Nations," where 
the question is fully discussed. To me the shape of the pipe is 

1 J. J. "Von Tschudi. Reisen durch Siidamerika III. 
■~ Bancroft's Native Races of the Pacific IV. 188. 

"' I have looked throngli Charnay carefully and cannot find either of these 
two figures. I will however take Bancroft's word for it. 


more interesting tlian the notes it utters, for its shape is precisely 
the same as the ancient pipe used by the Cave men, which was 
made of the phalangeal joint of a reindeer, only this pipe is made 
of burnt clay, and theirs was the natural bone. What could 
induce the Assyrians to prefer so unique and peculiar a form 
we cannot think, unless we take it, as I am inclined to imagine, 
that we have here a case of Reversion — that in the search for 
a new form they fell into an old one, or unconsciously revived 
an old form, from that freak of involuntary repetition, to which 
the name. Reversion, is so happily applied. Other instances are 
not wanting of such coincidences in the history of Music. Thus 
the rattles of the Mexicans were by preference in the shape of 
the old Maraca rattle, which was probably the most primitive instru- 
ment in use in their uncivilised times, but cast aside and obsolete 
long before we meet them in history. An excellent instance of 
Reversion is the use of the nose flute in the ritual of the 
Brahmins. We have said somewhere that the nose flute was 
most likely the most ancient form of flute traversiere ; we find 
it among savages, but never among civilised men. Yet the 
Brahmins l.ave reverted to this form in their ritual. The 
Japanese, wishing to cure diseases of the brain, which they 
imagine arise from the presence of an evil spirit in the head, 
have fallen back on that sovereign specific of savage man, the 
Drum. "The Drum is placed as near the burning brain as 
possible," says Golownin,i "and played till a cure is effected." 
The Tartar priests, when they would conjure spirits from the 
lower world, have unconsciously drifted to the most primitive 
means which man employed to do so, and effect their necro- 
mancy by drumming.- 



The following passages seem to make conclusively for the inter- 
pretation of VTTO Ti]V coSi]v "above the song," which is the view 
adopted in the text : — clXXa oia ri tCov rrjv (Jv/Li(f)ii)viav 
7roiovvT(i)v (pOoyywv Iv no ^apvTipio to fxaXaKMr^pov ; 7} on 

Golownin's Recollections of Japan. 169. 

Astley's Collection of Voyages £^nd Travels into Tartary IV. 578. 


TO fdXog ("Melody") ry juiv <pvaa ixakuKov Iotl kuX ripifxalov, 
Ty cl Tov pvOf-iov fxi^H Tpa)(y /cat KivrjTiKov ; k. t. A. (Arist, 
Prob. XIX. 49). Again : — Sid tl tCjv ;^opSwv rj j^apvrepa ael 
TO fiiXog Xafxl^dvei ; k. r. X. (lb. 12.) cf. Ptolemy distinctly 
speaking of the use of vtto and uirep — rtJ julv vtto KaTa\pr}(Tdi,ievoi. 
vpbg Trjv iirl to j5apvT£pov £vBeiE,iv ' r(jJ Se vTrep rrpog Trjv 
ETTi TO oq,vTEpov. This was a wrong use therefore, according to 
Ptolemy, and a late one, which he reprobates in favour of the older 
style of terminology. Cf. the passages quoted in the text on the 
double pipe, where the higher pipe is clearly defined as the pipe 
of accompaniment, and the lower one as the pipe of melody. 
The other passages in support of the view, which are scattered 
through the text, it will be unnecessary here to recapitulate. 

The attempt which some make to explain away fieXog into the 
term for the instrumental accompaniment, is an idle one, for not 
only are passages such as the following of constant occurrence, 
Atyw 06 ricvcriuivov /xev \6yov tov e-)(^ovTa pvBfxov /cat 
apfioviav /cat fxiXog, "and singing," (Arist, Poet. VI. 3.), to 
fxiXog £/c TpiMv (TvjKHTai, Xoyov r£ Kat apjuoviag koi pvOfxov 
(Plat. Rep. 398. c). &c., but in- the rare cases where juiXog is used 
for instrumental music it is always carefully fenced round with 
such a context as may leave no doubt that the tune of an 
instrument, and not the song of the voice is intended, e.g. 
Theognis. 761. (j)OlyyovO^ upov fdXog ^opfii-y^ r]de /cat avXog. 
Pindar. Pyth. XII. 34. irapOevog avXujv T£V)(e TrdfjKJXjjvov 


On the Numbers in the Tim^us. 

The Pythagorean scale of the Cosmos, that is, in its arithmetical 
equivalents, the numbers i, 2, 3, 4, 8, 9, 27, has unfortunately 
reached the world chiefly through the Platonists, and only rarely 
through a genuine Pythagorean exponent. By consequence it has 
been seldom properly understood in its real significance, and 
speaking freely, I have found that nearly all the scholars of last cen- 
tury and the century before, have regarded the Platonic account as 
identical with the Pj'thagorean, and quote Plato to illustrate Pytha- 
goras and Pythagoras to illustrate Plato as if no difference existed 


between them. I think that Bockh was the first whe brought out 
with any emphasis the very grave difference between the two 
theories, and since the pubHcation of his book on Philolaus no 
one has ever sought to estabUsh any doctrine of Pythagoreanism 
by an appeal to the authority of Plato. The difference, briefly 
put, is as follows :— With the Pythagoreans, Harmony is the 
original author of creation ; it is the pre-existent creative principle, 
by the operation of which Chaos became a world. With the 
Platonists, the Demiurge is pre-existent to Harmony, and the 
Harmonic Scale first appears as the Soul of the Universe, and is 
consciously created as such by the Demiurge himself. We see, 
therefore, that Music plays an inferior part in the Platonic 
Scheme, and for that reason, and also because it receives a less 
poetical treatment, the Pythagorean construction must ever be the 
favourite one by which a historian of music will choose to illustrate 
the mystical side of the art's history. It seems, right, however, 
to give a brief outline of the Platonic theory, and that I shall 
now do. According to Plato, the Demiurge ordered the Soul of 
the Universe after these numbers : — 

1. 2. 3. 4- 8. 9. 27- 

Of these he brought into combination those which formed 
dnrXacna ^lacrTi^fxara (octaves) and those which formed rpnrXama 
otaoT7//xara (i2ths). Thus: — 

^tirXaa . Smcrr. J ^ 4 8. 

TpiirXaa . Siacrr. *_ _Ja_ ^ ^' 

Then he took in each Diastema as fXi^aoT^Tsg two numbers, of 

which one stood in Geometrical Progression to the extreme 

numbers of the Diastema {uKpa), the other in Arithmetical 
Progression : — 


.1 : 3 ,, 1 : 3 ^, 1 : 3 

1 2 2 3 2 e 9 ^ ts 27 

Of the Hemiolian, Epitrite, and Epogdoan Diastaseis (2:3, 3:4, 
8:9), were the Epitrite (and Hemiolian) divided by means of 
ETToyooa. Then there remained the remainder of one Diastasis, 
whose greatness was expressed by the numbers, 256 : 243, as 
in the Diplasian Diastemes : — 

, 1 : 2 . 

-2 3— 

-2 3- 


^ 3 : 4 ^, 8 : 9 ,, 3 : 4 

9 9^ 4 3 3^ 3,9.9 

8 8. 8 3 2 28 2.88 

243 243 

« »8^» 2^6 «^^ «'* 256 

Let ns now represent the complete construction by the help of 
modern musical notation, and it will appear as follows : — 


, - 9-9 4 o OQ 

A 8 r§- - 2 ^:y 3.9.9 9 9.9 8 

t fr :r- -^- 4- ^i ^8 2 4 :^ i 




Z-9 Z-9^ ? 9;9 16 3^ 3^ 

8 "S.S 4 2 2.8 3 6 4 4.8 8 


-^ -4 


=1-— :1r 


T - 9-9 4 o OQ 

1 8 TTT. ~ ^ -^z. 3.g-9 9 9.9 


^' ■*■ 35- i.. .i. '^ 2.8.8 2 4 4.8 





3;9 3^ 

3 8 8.8 


9^9 9;9^ 
2.8 2.8.8 

3-9 3-9-9 

4 4.8 



?»- ^: 


9^9 9^-9 9-3 3^ 3^-9^ 9^9 9^ 

8 9 8^ 8.8 12 2 2.8 2.8.8 l8 4 4.8 24 27 




^ — — i — ^ 1 1 1 1 1— 


In order to give as accurate an apprehension as possible of tlie 
rhythms of Greek Music, which have been treated at length in 
the preceding pages. I have been induced to add the colouring of 
modern harmony and melody to a few representative instances, 
imagining that the rhythmic outline may by this means perhaps 
find an easier passage to the ear. The smallest possible infusion 
of melody and harmony will be employed, and the rhythms will 
be arranged chronologically. 

The crotchet and quaver must receive the same value from 
the beginning of each piece to the end, irrespective of any change 
of time. There is no accent except where marked. 

Archilochus, his combination of ^ and o time. 




.-is-T- — 



T 1- 



The Antithesis. 

_^^ — I — Sj--^ — I — ^s. 

■ — I- 

vvi.i(f>a'iQTcug Al- hg et, cd - jl - o-^w ^a-al T^-Tvy-jue-vaig. 





This foot, the Antispast, which is hard to catch, may be 
imitated in English by such a collocation of words as the 
following : — 

" It's such music, it's so lovely, it's so charming to my ear." 

-I-, ^N !'*-,-; 

-_h ^ 1 ^ , ^^1 |_^__JS_J>- - 

-3 — « — ^_p — I 1-^— Sil — _^_q_^ i-^—m — m—f- — i 1 — 

-H — _j— ^ — « — -m — — I 1 — ^— *i « — i 1— ^ — « — • — 

0£ - OU - KE fxlv a (7£ - Xft - VU KoX liXt} - L - it- 



/Prr * m—\-r-» « — 1 '— +— S « — F al 

w - pa, ay - to 
i*» 1 


fxo - va Kal 




__>_^ 1 ^ _!>_>_ _|__K_§-—5l- 

yXw-KEt - a fia -rap ov- roi cv- va-fxai Kpi-KSiv rov la-TOV, 

-^- m ^ KIN 



— zig::z£E=:^^zzE=g=E^-^=^=g=E ^ --.-i W^ J 



— ° — 1~^ '- 

« — -^ ■ — I 1 ^^i— ^ — I 1 — 

Tr60-(ji) ^a-mei- aa Trai-^hg (3pa-^L-vdv ^l 'A<j)-po- ot- ray 

^ jg-^p — ' — [=-g ^-r-j-^-^-*-F^-i — ^- 





ijzj — ;^ — u, "j — ^ — ^ — tJi ^ — 1^ 1 — q 

(Tvv fioi Tcl - ve (TV -VI) - pa (TV- vl - pa 


P ^zJ=gJ=r~=f=^=:^=: 




(Tva - re - (pa- vr]- (po - pet, avv juol juaiv - o- fxl-voj 

__-^- _ .-^— ^ 








^at - ve - o awv aw - 0po - vt crw- 0po - yf<. 



-h — ^F- 

6^6 AtPENiiiCES. 

The Earlier Metabole. 
Ibycus. simile. 


-ff-O 1 1-4- — 1 — —I 1— hj5 ' ' ^— r-y, 1 • — -:! 

— 4 — * -^i — -ai-l— « « — •«— ^ « « — ■«— h 4— « ■« — * 


- I UEv at r£ Ku - ow 

w - I'l - ai 



J — ^— 4»»-J^. 

-_i4, — !_. 

_!s__St— ! S — N^ 

P:fi — t ■ — — i--f-cj — H i ^--F-9, — I 1 — -^--f — f ' '- 
-01 « — «i-hO— « «i — «— -4'— « « — <»i-4~aR -A — ■«- 

op - CO - /xe 

vai po- uv 

£)C TTo - ra- fxuiv, l - va 



-S- „ — I ^ — ,_i. 

— o-<i — ■*— *ZI' 




^^-_1»,„_] 1_^_^ ^_-S 


I — r — I 1'^- 


Kq- TTog a - K.)i- pa-Tog, at r ol -vav 




•I — h- 


^i, S-T 1 N l^T ^ 

1— 1 1— j 1 i \ 1 -H ^t— 

« « — m — — «! — -— « — «— |— « « — «— T — 


.^H is. 

^ s^ 


« — «- , _ 
a a w w a 

avc, - o/x 

- (TiJ/Z . - - . 


pot- Ortf ir^ 


ip - ve - (Tiv 

^— T-Jg- — -'^ — ^— 


-^ ^= 

— » »- 

1— » IT 




-« — « — «— 4 

-j ^^ — Kj — I— ^-j» — IS--. — I IS — ^y . 

«— « — ■«!—+—« m — «— t — « « — *i — 

» 9 

— !- 



juol sf) - og 


ZL. 1 1 !__L 1 1 1— Ui>- 


-«— -4— « — ^^ — * — I 

•u - Se- AU- 

^u- ay Ko - ra - /cot rog u) - qciv, au vtt 


— n— zi. — ^-n— ij- — 




-z|— zi--=1r 

-i) 1 1 |_L_I 


^ *< -^ 


qzn-^qsii— qz=qii=q=cH=q=^iz-J5sJ: 
■m — m — -g— {- — <w — « — • ^~r4~'^:^'S — *^~i 


o 0T£ -po- rrag (fKi-yiov Op}]- t, - Ki- o? po-gi- ag. 


S' — u 



a- pia - Tov /ulIv vd-wp, 6 8I \QV-(Tog al - 96- fie 






•-) — ~^- 

^--S — Is — \\^ 

--« — «l- 


l-H 4 

:S=gitS— S=±=J=S^-S 

vov TTup a - r 

£ Of - a- 

irpe-TTH vvK-Ti ju^y-a - vo-pog 



gEEgEEE=iE =^ ^ 

£t; - 0T(^ - a TrXov-rov ' el c a - ed - \a ya - pv - ev 



■f=— ^-- iz;i=3=; ;^=±:; - -^— ^-- --^-^- 

._4 K--\. 

-^ — wi 





eA - Se - CU <pL-\0V 7/ - rOp, jU)7 - K£0' oA - I - <)V (TICO 


-g 1^ - 


J*, ] ^S r ^''^ K >• 

h,-- 4- 

« «-+-« «-- 1— « — « — « — -m — «-+-■« m — 

TTft oA - Ao daXir-vo - re-pov £y o - jxi- pn (pa - 

— 1 

r— ^- 








y_^_^_i_^ ^— r^-| S?-"-! ^-^-i ^ 

^ 1 

iv - vov ua - rpov t-pi) - fiat; ct al - Qi - poc 




i-S — I 

-,%-, — ^- 


_, 1 — — I i_J , 1 — 1 — \—^ — ^ — ^ — m, — 

« -m-A—m m-A—M m-A—m — «-4— * — * « — 

« m — \—m ^-A—m «-A—m — -m-As) 1-— 1 

-0- sr w -jf --9- -» -^- -— ^^ 

/fTjS' 'O- Au^ - 771 - aq dj 


va (j)ip- rtp- oi' av 



— =1— 


=5 ~-^. 

|t« ^V—JS-, \—r-^ 

S«(T - o - ^ev 


~ 7F- 
o - 0£v 6 TToX-v - (pa - Tog vfx - vog 

ctfi - (j)i- paX - Xe - rai ao - (piov] - ti - ea 

p -" — ^^i — » — 



1^— r=^: 





■As ^S- 

m — «i- 



■4 1 'S-r 1 ^N \ 

4 1 ~H 1— f 

-+—« — -01 « «— t 

i- -f- -f- -i- -s- -i- 

m K£ - Xa- oeTy Kpo - i^otj TraTo' i? 









— I 1 1 H-T-^ — m « — H ^S 

i - /CO - /.le-vovg fxa-Kcu- pav '1 - e - pw - vog la - ri - av. 

-? — * — « — « — « — H 


« — « — m — ' 

2. The Rhythmic Fugue. 


-_H ^_I 1 1— l-T i i»s-— 1 1 -1 

Tw - do- pi-caig re (pi - XoE, - d - i>oig ci-deTv koX - 


■ i !•« 1^ r !• 

.^», Sr 1 

--H i^z:--qzi— .grrz-qzL — ^ ^f — .q^qz T — j — q!l— q^q 

S S- § ^ -Sr S S S -*i j^ -^ 

At - ttAo- ko, - juu) -0"E -Ae- vq k\u - vav \\k- pa - 









-ycti/- ra ye-pai-pwv £u - ^o-/xa( G»/ - ^jw - yog O- 


_^.« 1 ^i ^- — ] 1 — 1 ^ 1_ 


- TTL - O - VI 

vfx - vov op 

&(t» - 


-zerg— J: 



->— ^ 



*■ "»" 

(rate a - ica - juav -to-tto- cwv ltt - ttwv a - w- rov. 







;EJ ==g^ = g= j =| |zzj-=j^^ 

--9' w "» ■* 

MoT- tfa S 'ow- T(t» 

/tot Trap" £0- - Ty\ 

fXOl V£ - O 


■.■me=z-seisf.-mft-^ 2=»^=sf =^= 


u u 





ri - ya - \ov ill 






— I- 


pOV - TL rpo - TTOV 



:i^— * — *— ' 

-p- -^- -w- -w- -^- -^ «r- -w- -^ --0- 

A(x) - pt - ti) ^oj - vclv Iv - ap - fxoL, - ai rrt - ci - At 













"Ep - wc av - L 

H— 3- 





— (»»- 

Xav, "Ep - 


ojg og 

: — -^'-z — ^ — -^— 






KTl] ~ fXa ' (71 TT/TT - TilQ, Of 





fia - \a - Kaig tto - ptt - aig ve - 




# 5 5 




--s—t ^■ 

d -g 

a - VI - cog ev - vv - ^e 




I 1 1 1-5 1% i 1 1 — 

. — m~—\--m — -"l, — « — m—i — ^— « — « — 


fj -5 • -9 9 9 • *» 9 5 9' • "* '^- -it -9 . 
0ot - Tag o vTrep - irov - ti- og iv r dy - po -v6-fxoig 

'=1 — q— =q_=q =) —3—4 



— ^— d-^- 

-s 1 1 J — I , j ,- 

-q^— -IS— =K— =]- 






au - a - va - twv 







h « — -m — m «-ir-H— « — i-— -«— 5---]— *l « — « — -* «- 

— :-^--i— :«lir— irj-^-gi^x-i^zr-^-Sr— iri— 1^— Ij— -lir 

'Jf' '0' '9' 

w - E,i- /.toe oi) 

Seig 01)9' 

0- -» -&- ^- -§-" 

a - fxe - pi - wv lir 


'^3=.fz=± -r — — "^ — r — ' ^~ 



1 1 1 1 1 —I 0(—\ jh|— T 1- 

TTixiV, 6 S' £;^-(i>V /XE - /Lit} - VtV. 











{4-M S 1 -J- 


> ^■ 


.^ ^- 

-■m «- 

^ — 1^ — ^ 9 — ^ — ^— ^-^— s^ 

05)8- vwv Sue " (ppo- vio\> a - juap - ti] - f.ia - ra 





nS 1*. \-r—S 

■m — « — « — « « « — — — « m «—• « — 

OTE - p£ - a ua -va - to -^vt ktu- i>ov -rag re kcii 



iz=Pztg— jg: 




-^ — 3-« « «- 

-«— i--^ — ^- 




?a - I'oy - r6c ^Xi-TTOV-ng lf.i - (pv - \i 




-t r 



>— I- 


._is ^_ 





-^ j0 ^ — ^- 

lofxoi E - /iwv a - vo\ - j3a pov - Atu - /xa - rcov 







I't - op 

t,VV fXO - QbJ, &C. 











3 9999 06662 449 3 

^''' W- 


%' m 


~4. S- 




*.. ^ 

M '% 

\ ';•> 

::. '^■^ 


''^'\ 'A 

%■' ■ ft' 



F^* .^1