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THEATRE OF THE GREEKS,
A TREATISE

THE HISTORY AND EXHIBITION

OF THE

GREEK DRAMA,

WITH VARIOUS SUPPLEMENTS.

JOHN WILLIAM DONALDSON, D.D.

CLASSICAL EXAMINER JN THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON,
AND FORMERLY FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

SEVENTH EDITION;

REVISED, ENLARGED, AND IN PART REMODELLED;

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS FROM THE BEST ANCIENT AUTHORITIES.

LONDON:

LONGMAN AND CO.; SIMPKIN AND CO.; J. AND F. H. RIVINGTON; WHITTAKER
| AND CO.; E. P. WILLIAMS; BELL AND DALDY; D. NUTT; W. ALLAN; DEIGHTON,
BELL, AND CO, AND MACMILLAN AND CO., CAMBRIDGE.

1860.

Cambritge :
"PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A.
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.

WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE, ESQ.

HER MAJESTY’S LICENSER OF PLAYS,

Chis dork
Is INSCRIBED
AS A RECOGNITION OF HIS MANY VALUABLE CONTRIBUTIONS
TO DRAMATIC CRITICISM, CLASSICAL. SCHOLARSHIP,

AND GENERAL LITERATURE;

AND
AS A TRIBUTE TO THE GREAT MORAL WORTH,
THE GENUINE COURTESY,
AND THE UNAFFECTED KINDNESS,
WHICH HAVE ENDEARED HIM TO MANY

SINCERE FRIENDS.

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PREFACE TO THE SEVENTH EDITION.

TN this edition of the Theatre of the Greeks I have been,

at last, permitted to deal with the book according to my
own judgment, and I have been also allowed sufficient time
for making those improvements which I deemed necessary.
The result has been, that, instead of long extracts from other
authors, preceded by an original introduction, the book is NOW
substantially an independent treatise on the Greek Drama
followed by about one hundred pages of supplementary mat-
ter. The following reasons will explain why I have felt myself
compelled to make this change in the form and character of

the work.

It seems to me, that the convenience of the student will
be better consulted by placing before him a continuous dis-
cussion on the history and representation of the Greek Drama,
than by giving him a certain amount of information in an
introductory essay, and requiring him to go to Bentley and
Schlegel for the most important details. With regard to
Schlegel, the greater part of the extracts from his Lectures,
which were incorporated in former editions of this work, con-
sisted of an analysis of the different Greek plays; and as I have
now introduced into my own treatise all that is necessary on
PRTG. « b

vil PREFACE TO THE SEVENTH EDITION.

this head for the usual purposes of a student, I did not think
it desirable to reproduce remarks, which, however acute and
original, are rather slight in their texture and not always in
accordance with the results of the most recent criticism. I have
nevertheless retained many of Schlegel’s more general obser-
vations, which are still very valuable and interesting, and have
introduced these extracts as supplements to different chapters
in my own treatise. With regard to Bentley, I should have
been most reluctant to omit the passages from his Dissertation
on Phalaris, had I thought that by so doing I should diminish
the number of those who still make themselves acquainted
with that admirable book. But those, who are likely to read
the extracts, would be most likely to be attracted by the
book itself; and I consider it of great importance, that as
many students as possible should study in eatenso a work,
which not only constitutes an epoch in classical philology,
but is the first example and origin of that historical criticism,
which has produced and is still producing such important
effects on our estimation of ancient literature in general.
Accordingly, as the extension given to my own treatise and
the expense incurred by the numerous illustrations rendered
it necessary that some sacrifice should be made in the letter-
press of the book, I have omitted Bentley, in the hope that
he will be studied, independently of his contributions to the
literary history of the Drama, by all who wish to become
critics or scholars.

On the other hand, I have not only retained the translation
of Aristotle's Poetic, on which I have bestowed some additional
pains, but have also given extracts from Vitruvius and Julius
Pollux, because it appeared that a complete introduction to a
scholarlike study of the Greek drama ought to contain what

PREFACE TO THE SEVENTH EDITION. Vii

the ancients have written on the subject, the more so as I have
made frequent references to these three sources of information.

The last part of the book, which gives an account of the
language, metres, and prosody of the dramatists, is no longer
a number of detached notes, but has assumed the form of a
coherent disquisition. Mr Tate’s essay, which is identified with
this book and records the honest research of that successful
and experienced teacher, has been retained out of respect for

his memory, no less than on account of its practical value.

A prominent and distinctive feature of the present edition
will be recognized in the numerous illustrations from the best
ancient authorities, by which the details of a Greek theatrical
performance are reproduced and rendered visible to the student.
Some of these have been borrowed from Mr Rich's very useful
Companion to the Latin Dictionary and Greek Lexicon. The
majority appear for the first time in an English book. With
regard to the Theatre at Aspendus, which has done more than
any ancient monument to substitute reality for conjecture in
our notions of the ancient scene, it is to be regretted that
Schénborn’s photographs are not forthcoming; but Texier’s
views of the elevation and interior, which are here reproduced,
are sufficient to give an adequate idea of the only ancient
theatre which has come down to us without material dilapi-

dations.

Thus remodelled and illustrated I venture to believe that
the Theatre of the Grecks is now in harmony with the existing
condition of our knowledge in regard both to Greek literature
and to ancient art. It has at any rate assumed the form which

I conceive to be most proper for such a work; and as I

Vili PREFACE TO THE SEVENTH EDITION.

hope that the study of the Greek Drama will never be al-
together neglected by the countrymen of Shakespeare, I shall
be glad to think that I have contributed something towards
the pleasant and profitable cultivation of this important

branch of classical learning.
J. WD:

CamBripan, September 20th, 1860.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

PA Cad,

A TREATISE ON THE History AND EXHIBITION OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

BOOK kk

THE ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA,

\ CHAPTER I.

PAGE
The Religious Origin of the Greek Drama . ; : : : 3
CHAPTER II.
The Connected Worship of Dionysus, Demeter, and Apollo . : ; 12
CHAPTER III.
The Tragic Chorus—-Arion : : : - : : : ; i
APPENDIX.
Orchomenian Inscriptions. A : - : : : : : 45
CHAPTER IV.
The Tragic Dialogue—Thespis ; : : : : : A See
CHAPTER V. .
The proper Classification of Greek Plays. Origin of Comedy 5 68s —
Table of Dramatic Classification ; oe te : ; ‘ : =) 82

APPENDIX,

A. W. Schlegel’s General Survey of the Drama in different ages and
SSE DOE 1S a eT a S38

x TABLE OF CONTENTS.

Book II.
LITERARY HISTORY OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

CHAPTER I.

Tue GREEK TRAGEDIANS.

~ Sect. I> Cheerilus, Phrynichus, and Pratinas

2. Aischylus. : ° 5 : ; .

3. Sophocles

4, Euripides. ; : : : ° : : . ; ~
APPENDIX.

Schlegel’s Comparison of the Choephorce of Aischylus with the Electras
of Sophocles and Euripides 3 : ; : -

5. Agathon and the remaining Tragedians

CHAPTER II.
Tur GREEK COMEDIANS.

Sect. 1. The Comedians who preceded or were contemporary with
Aristophanes

2. Aristophanes :
3. The Comedians who succeeded Aristophanes

Chronology of the Greek Drama. 6

BOOK III.

EXHIBITION OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

CHAPTER I.

On the Representation of Greek Plays in general. ae

CHAPTER II.

On the Representation of certain Tragedies and Comedies in particular . 2

AppENDIX To Parr J.

On the Roman Theatre (from Schlegel’s VIIIth Lecture) .. ‘ ‘

TAGE

91
95
113
131

152

210

306

TABLE OF CONTENTS. xl

PART cil.

Extracts FROM ARISTOTLE, VITRUVIUS, AND JuLius PoLuvx.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON Poetry, translated by Twining ; : 317

Vitruvius on the Structure of the Theatre (V. ch. vi. vir.) . ] Bae i".

Julius Pollux on the Vocabulary of the Drama (Iv. §§ 95—154) . 4 356
PAT Tabi:

On THE LAancuacr, Metres, AND Prosopy oF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS.

~ J, Language . o : 5 ° : ; : ; - . 369
II. Tragic and Comic Metres : : : : : oP det 377
III. Prosody ae nas , : ; : : : at ts : . 408
Examination Papers on the Greek Tragedians ; : 2 ; - 413

ERRATA,

p- 255, line 4, for Iv. 12 read vit. 6,
266, line 10 from bottom, for xéumos read xoppds.
326, line 19, for rounudrwy read wabyudrwv.
352, last line but one from the foot, before Tectum supply 4.

PLATE

LIST OF PLATES.

Ground Plan of the Theatre at Aspendus (to face

p. 222).
Ditto of the conjectural Theatre (to face p. 226).
Figures from the Pio-Clementine Mosaic (to face

p. 244).

Figures from the Cyrenaic picture (to face p. 245).

View of the Interior of the Theatre at Aspendus
(Frontispiece).

PA’ 2d.

—————

A TREATISE

ON THE

HIistORY AND, EXHIBITION

OF THE

GREEK DRAMA.

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BOOK I,

THE ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

CHAPTER I.
THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

ot ydp Te viv ye KaxOés, add’ del ore
. ¢% radra, Kovdels oldev €& brov ’pavn.
yi SOPHOCLES.
4

WE cannot assign any historical origin to the Drama. Result-
ing as_it did from the constitutional tendencies of the in-
habitants of those countries in which it sprang up, it necessarily
existed, in some form or other, long before the age of history ;
consequently we cannot determine the time when it first made its
appearance, and must therefore be content to ascertain in what
principle of the human mind it originated. This we shall be able
to do without much difficulty. In fact the solution of the problem
is included in the answer to a question often proposed,— How
are we to account for the great prevalence of idol worship in ancient
times?” For, strange as it may appear, it is nevertheless most
true, that not only the drama, (the most perfect form of poetry,)
but all poetry, sculpture, painting, architecture, and whatever else
is beautiful in art, are the results of that very principle which
degraded men, the gods of the earth, into grovelling worshippers of
wood and stone, which made them kneel and bow down before the
works of their own hands. This principle is that which is gene-
rally called the love of imitation,—a definition, however, which is
rather ambiguous, and has been productive of much misunder-
1—2

4 THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

standing!. We would rather state this principle to be that desire
to express the abstract in the concrete, that “striving after objec-
tivity,” as it has been termed by a modern ‘writer?, that wish to
render the conceivable perceivable, which is the ordinary charac-
teristic of an uneducated mind.

The inhabitants of southern Europe, in particular, have in all
ages shown a singular impatience of pure thought, and have been
continually endeavouring to represent under the human form, either
allegorically or absolutely, the subjects of their contemplations®.
Now the first abstract idea which presented itself to the minds of
rude but imaginative men was the idea of God, conceived in some
one or other of his attributes. Unable to entertain the abstract
notion of divinity, they called in the aid of art to bring under the
control of their senses the subject of their thoughts, and willingly
rendered to the visible and perishable the homage which they felt
to be due to the invisible and eternal. By an extension of the
same associations, their anthropomorphized.divinity was supposed
to need a dwelling-place; hence the early improvements of archi-
tecture on the shores of the Mediterranean. His worshippers would
then attempt some outward expression of their gratitude and vene-
ration:—to meet this need, poetry arose among them‘. The
same feelings would suggest an imitation of the imagined suffer-
ings or gladness of their deity; and to this we owe the mimic

1 The German reader would do well to consult on this subject Von Raumer’s
Essay on the Poetic of Aristotle (Abhandl. der Hist. Philologischen Klasse der
Kin, Akad. der Wissensch. 1828). We do not think Dr. Copleston’s view of this
subject (Prelectiones Academice, pp. 28 sqq.) sufficiently comprehensive.

2 Wachsmuth, Hell. Alterth. 0. 2, 113.
3 See Wordsworth’s Excursion (Works, V. pp. 160 foll.).

4 Thus Strabo says, that ‘‘the whole art of poetry is the praise of the gods,”
h wountikh maca Yuvyrixh. X. p. 468. (The word ot¢a, which is found in all the
editions at the end of this sentence, has evidently arisen from a repetition of the
first two syllables of the following word @catrws, and must be struck out. For the
sense of the word duvyrix}, comp. Plato, Legg. p. joo A.) And Plato, Legg. vu.
799 A, would have all music and dancing consecrated to religion. When Herder
says (Werke z. schin. Lit. und Kunst. 11. p. 82), “Poetry arose, not at the altars, but
in wild merry dances; and as violence was restrained by the severest laws, an
attempt was in like manner made to lay hold, by means of religion, on those drunken
inclinations of men which escaped the control of the laws,” he does not seem to
deny the fact on which we have insisted, that religion and poetry are contempo-
raneous effects of the same cause; at all events, he allows that poetry was at first
merely the organ of religion, And although V. Cousin endeavours to prove that
religion and poetry were the results of different necessities of the human mind, he
also contends that they were analogous in their origin. ‘Le triomphe de lintuition
religieuse est dans la création du culte, comme le triomphe de l’idée du beau est
dans Ja création de l’art,” &c. (Cours de Philosophie, p. 21, 2). :

THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA. 5

dances of ancient Hellas, and the first beginnings of the drama

there.

But although art and religious realism have much in common
even in their latest applications, we are not to suppose that all
attempts to give an outward embodiment to the religious idea
are to be considered as real approximations to dramatic poetry.
All art is not poetry, and all poetry is not the drama*, Poly-
theistic worship and its concomitant idolatry are the most favour-
able conditions for the development of art in all its forms and
applications. And conversely, those nations and epochs which
have been most remarkable for the cultivation of a pure and spi-
ritual religion have been equally remarkable for a prevalent distaste
and incompetency for the highest efforts of art. In ancient times,
we have the case of the Israelites: for many years they strove with
varying success to resist the temptations to idolatry which sur-
rounded them on every side, and left to Greece and modern Europe
the greatest aid to abstract thought, in the alphabet which we still

1 The view which we have taken in the text, of the origin of the fine arts, is, we
conceive, nearly the same as that of Aristotle; for it appears to us pretty obvious
that his treatise on Poetic was, like many of his other writings, composed expressly
to confute the opinions of Plato, who taking the word yuiuyovs in its narrowest
sense, to signify the imperfect counterfeiting, the servile and pedantic copying of an
individual object, argued against ulunors in general as useless for moral purposes.
Whereas Aristotle shows that if the word ulunois be not taken in this confined
sense, but as equivalent to ‘‘ representation,” as implying the outward realisation of
something in the mind, it does then include not only poetry, but, properly speaking,
all the fine arts: and plunots is therefore useful, in a moral relation, if art in general
is of any moral use. That he understood piunocs in this general sense is clear from his
Rhetoric, 1. 1, § 8: Ta dvéuaTra minnuard éorw: vajpte 66 | Povh mdvTwv piyTiKa-
Tarov Tay moplwy Hut 5d Kal ai réexvae cuvécrncay, 7 TE pavwdia Kal H SroKpirixh Kal
ai &\\at. It was, however, as Schleiermacher justly observes (Anmerkungen zu
Platons Staat, p. 543), not of art absolutely that Plato was speaking, but only of its
moral effects; for doubtless Plato himself would have been most willing to assent to
a definition of art which made it an approximation to or copy of the idea of the
beautiful (comp. Plat. Resp. vi. p. 484 C); and this is only Aristotle’s opinion ex-
pressed in other words. Von Raumer truly remarks in the essay above quoted, p. 118,
“The mapddevyua (Poet. XV. 11, XXVI. 28), which Aristotle often designates as the
object to be aimed at, is nothing but that which is now-a-days called the ‘ideal,’ and
by which is understood the most utter opposite of a pedantic imitation.” Herder also
was fully aware that although Plato contradicts Aristotle in regard to the Dithyramb,
he was speaking in quite a different connexion, “in ganz anderer Verbindung”
(Werke z. sckin. Lit. u. Kunst, 1. p. 86). We may add, that our definition of ulun-
gis as a synonym for “‘art,” which has also been given in direct terms by Miiller
(Handb. der Archéol. beginn.), ‘ Die Kunst ist eine Darstellung (uiunots) d. h. eine
Thatigkeit durch welche ein Innerliches dusserlich wird,” ‘Art is a representation
(uiunots), i.e. an energy by means of which a subject becomes an object” (comp.
Dorians, tv. ch. 7, § 12), is the best way of explaining the pleasure which we derive
from the efforts of the fancy and imagination, which, as has been very justly observed,
is always much greater when “the allusion is from the material world to the intellec-
tual, than when it is from the intellectual world to the material” (Stewart’s Elements
of the Philosophy of the Mind, I, p. 306).

6 THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

employ. Yet we find that native art was, strictly speaking, non-
existent among them. The few symbols elal they employed in
their early days were borrowed from Egypt or Chaldza ; and when,
in the most flourishing epoch of their monarchy, their powerful
and wealthy king wished to build a temple to the true God, he
was obliged to call in the aid of his idolatrous neighbours the
Tyrians!, Nay more, it would not be fanciful to connect the sub-
sequent idolatry of Solomon with his patronage of the fine arts.
It is remarkable, too, that the first trace of a dramatic tendency in
the lyric poetry of the Israelites is visible in an idyll attributed
to the same prince. And far as the book of Job is from any
dramatic intention, the dialogues of which it mainly consists must
be added to the many proofs which have been adduced of the com-
paratively modern date, and foreign origin, of that didactic poem?.
Even the incomplete metrical system of the Hebrews, as compared

with the wonderful variety and perfection of Greek prosody, must —

be regarded as furnishing supplementary evidence of the inartificial
character and antimimetic tendencies of the early inhabitants of
Palestine.” So also in modern times, long after the drama had
ceased to exhibit any traces of its original connexion with the rites
of a heathen worship, and when it was looked upon merely as a
branch of literature, or as an elegant pastime, in proportion as
Christian nations adhered to or abhorred the sensual rites which
the Church of Rome borrowed from heathendom, when it assembled
its priest-tidden>votaries within the newly-consecrated walls of a
profane Basilica,—in the same proportion the drama throye or
declined, and, in this country, either inflicted vengeance on the
hapless author of a LHistriomastix, or concealed its flaunting robes
from the austere indignation of Smectymnuus.

To return, however, to the more immediate influences of poly-
theism and idolatry on the origination of the ancient drama, we
observe that the dramatic art, wherever it has existed as a genuine
product of the soil, has always been connected in its origin with
the religious rites of an elementary worship*; that is, with those
enthusiastic orgies which spring from a personification of the powers

1 1 Kings vii. 13.
* Ewald, poetisch. Biicher des alten Bundes, 11. p. 63.

% In connexion with the Phallic rites of Hindostan and Greece, we may mention
that in the South Sea Islands, at the time of Cook’s second voyage, a birth was
represented on the stage. See Siivern diber Aristoph, Wolken, p. 63, note 6.

THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA. 7

of nature. This was the case in India’, and in those parts of Italy
where scenic entertainments existed before the introduction of the
Greek drama. But in Greece this was so, not only in the be-
ginning, but as long as the stage existed; and the circumstance,
which gave to the Attic drama its chief strength and its highest
charms, was its continued connexion with the state-worship of
Bacchus, in which both Tragedy and Comedy took their rise. We
must not allow ourselves to be misled by our knowledge of the fact
that the drama of modern Europe, though derived from that of
ancient Greece, exhibits no trace of its religious origin. The
element which originally constituted its whole essence has been
overwhelmed and superseded by the more powerful ingredients
which have been introduced into it by the continually diverging
tastes of succeeding generations, till it has at length become nothing
but a walking novel or a speaking jest-book. The plays of Shak-
speare and Calderon (with the exception, of course, of the Autos
Sacramentales of the latter) are dramatic reproductions of the
prose romances of the day, with the omission of the religious ele-
ment which they owed to the monks?, just as the Tragedies of
Aischylus and Sophocles would have been mere epic dramas, had
they broken the bonds which connected them with the elementary
worship of Attica. But this disruption never took place. In
ancient Greece the drama retained to the last the character which
it originally possessed. The theatrical representations at Athens,
even in the days of Sophocles and Aristophanes, were constituent
parts of a religious festival; the theatre in which they were per-
formed was sacred to Bacchus, and the worship of the god was
always as much regarded as the amusement of the sovran people.

1 Like that of the Greeks, the Hindu drama was derived from, and formed
part of, their religious ceremonies.” Quarterly Rev. No. 89, p. 39. The comparative
antiquity of the Greek and Indian drama is regarded very differently by the most
eminent orientalists. For while Weber thinks it ‘ not improbable that even the use
of the Hindoo drama was influenced by the performance of the Greek dramas at the
courts of Greek kings” (Jndische Skizzen, p. 28), Lassen will not allow such an origin
of the Indian drama, which he considers to be of native growth (Indische Alterthums-
kunde, 11. p. 1157). Even supposing however that the Indian drama was as old as the
time of Asoka II. (Asiat. Res. xx. p. 50; Lassen, Il. p. 502), it is admitted (Lassen, I.
616, 625; 1.507) that Krishna, who stood in intimate connexion with the origin of
the Hindoo theatre, was specially worshipped in the Saurasenic or eastern district
(Arrian, Ind, virt. 5), and there is every reason to believe that he was an imported
deity; so that the Indian stage, even if aboriginal, may have derived its most charac-
teristic features from the Greek,

3 Malone’s Shakspeare, Vol. 111. pp. 8 sqq.; Lessing, Geschichte der Engl. Schau-
biihne (Werke, XV. 209).

8 THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

This is a fact which cannot be too strongly impressed upon the
student: if he does not keep this continually in view, he will be
likely to confound the Athenian stage with that of his own time
and country, and will misunderstand and wonder at many things
which under this point of view are neither remarkable nor unin-
telligible. How apt we all are to look at the manners of ancient
times through the false medium of our every-day associations! how
difficult we find it to strip our thoughts of their modern garb, and
to escape from the thick atmosphere of prejudice in which custom
and habit have enveloped us! and yet, unless we take a compre-
hensive and extended view of the objects of archeological specu-
lation, unless we can look upon ancient customs with the eyes of
the ancients, unless we can transport ourselves in the spirit to
other lands and other times, and sun ourselves in the clear light of
bygone days, all our conceptions of what was done by the men who
have long ceased to be, must be dim, uncertain, and unsatisfactory,
and all our reproductions as soulless and uninstructive as the
scattered fragments of a broken statue’, ‘These remarks are par-
ticularly applicable to the Greek stage. For in proportion to the
perfection of the extant specimens of ancient art in any department,
are our misconceptions of the difference between their and our use
of these excellent works. We feel the beauty of the remaining
Greek dramas, and are unwilling to believe that productions as
exquisite as the most elaborate compositions of our own playwrights
should not have been, as ours were, exhibited for their own sake.
But this was far from being the case. The susceptible Athenian, —
whose land was the dwelling-place of gods and ancestral heroes?,—
to whom the clear blue sky, the swift-winged breezes, the river
fountains, the A¢gean gay with its countless smiles, and the teem-
ing earth*® from which he believed his ancestors were immediately
created, were alike instinct with an all-pervading spirit of divinity;
—the Athenian, who loved the beautiful, but loved it because it
was divine,—who looked upon all that genius could invent, or art
execute, as but the less unworthy offering to his pantheism*; and

1 See some good remarks on this subject in Niebuhr’s Kleine Schriften, Vol. 1,
p- 92, and in his letter to Count Adam Moltke (Lebensn. Vol. 11. p. 91). ;

* Hegesias ap, Strab. 1x. p. 396. 3 Asch, Prom. V. 87—90.

4 Mr. Grote remarks (Hist. of Greece, vitt. p. 444), with special reference to the
Athenian drama, that ‘‘there was no manner of employing wealth, which seemed so
appropriate to Grecian feeling, or tended so much to procure influence and popularity

THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA. 9

considered all his festivals and all his amusements as only a means
of withdrawing the soul from the world’s business, and turning it
to the love and worship of God!, how could he keep back from the
object of his adoration the fairest and. best of his works ?

We shall make the permanent religious reference of the Greek
drama more clear, by showing with some minuteness how it
gradually evolved itself from religious rites universally prevalent,
and by pointing out by what routes its different elements con-
verged, till they became united in one harmonious whole of “state-
liest and most regal argument?.”

The dramatic element in the religion of ancient Greece mani-
fested itself most prominently in the connected worship of Apollo,
Demeter, and Dionysus. Thus at Delphi, the main seat of the
Dorian worship of Apollo, the combat with the serpent, and the
flight and expiation of the victorious son of Latona, were made the
subject of a representation almost theatrical*.. And Clemens Alex-
andrinus tells us that Eleusis represented by torch-light the rape
of Proserpine, and the wanderings and grief of her mother Demeter,
in a sort of mystic drama‘, Dionysus, who was worshipped both
at Eleusis and at Delphi‘, was personated by the handsomest young
men who could be found, in a mimic ceremony at the Athenian
Anthesteria, which represented his betrothal to the wife of the
King Archon®; and there were other occasions, quite unconnected
with theatrical exhibitions, in which the Bacchic mythology was
made the subject of direct imitation’, But it was not in these
forms of worship that the Attic drama immediately originated,
however much it may have been connected with them in spirit.
The almost antagonistic materials of Dorian and oriental mytho-
logy had to seek their common ground, and the lyric chorus of the —
Dorians had to combine itself with the epos of the Ionian rhapsode,

to its possessors, as that of contributing to enhance the magnificence of the national
and religious festivals.”

1 Strabo, x. p. 467: Ff re yap dveos rv vodv dmdye dmd T&v dvOpwrlywv doxody-
Karwy, Tov 5é bvTws vodv Tpéret pds Td Geto,
2 Milton’s Prose Works, p. tor.

3 Plutarch, Quest. Gr. 1. p. 202, Wyttenb.; De Defect. Orac. 11. pp- 719, 723,
Wyttenb,

4 Cohort. ad Gentes, p. 12, Potter.
5 Plut. de EI Delphico, p. 391, Wyttenb.: rdv Acdvugov, § rav Adpar ovdév qT TOV
9 7@ ’Amwé\NwH wéTETTY,
8 Demosth. in Neer. pp. 1369, 70; Plutarch, Nic. c. 3.
7 Plutarch, Quest. Gr. 11. p. 228, Wyttenb.

10 THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

before such a phenomenon as the full-grown Tragedy of Aschylus
could become possible. We see these ingredients standing side by
side, like oil and vinegar, and not perfectly fused!, in the first
Attic tragedy which we open. It is the business of the following
pages to point out how they came together.

In order to do this in a satisfactory manner, we must constantly
bear in mind the important statement of Aristotle?, that ‘“ both
Tragedy and Comedy originated in a rude and unpremeditated
manner; the first from the leaders of the Dithyrambs, and the
second from those who led off the Phallic songs.” To reconcile all
our scattered information on the subject with this distinct and
categorical account of the beginning of the Greek drama, we must
in the first place confine ourselves to Tragedy. We must see how
the solemn choral poetry of the Dorians admitted of a union with
the boisterous Dithyramb, which belonged to the orgiastic worship
of an exotic divinity. And, we must inquire how the leaders of
this lyrical and Dorized Dithyramb became the vehicles of the
dramatic dialogues in which the Tragedy of Athens carried on the
development of its epic plots. We shall then be able without
much difficulty to consider the case of Comedy, which exhibited in
its older form the unmitigated ingredients of the noisy Phallie
Comus.

The following, therefore, will be the natural succession of the
topics, to which we are invited by an inquiry into the origin of the
Greek drama. As its first beginnings are to be sought in a form
of religious worship, we must endeavour to ascertain at starting
what was the nature of the system which gave rise to a ceremonial
capable of dramatic representation. It has been mentioned gene-
rally that the religion, which produced the drama, is essentially
connected with the worship of the elements, and that the Greek
drama in particular manifests itself in the cognate worship of
Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus. It will therefore be our first busi-
ness to show that the Greek worship of these deities was implicitly
capable of producing, and in fact did produce, both the solemn
chorus of Tragedy, and the Phallic extravagances of the old Comedy
of Athens. As however this comic drama, though expressing more

1 Aschyl. Agam. 322:
“Otos 7’ Ged 7 eyxéas rabr@ Kira,

Acyooraroivr dy, ot pitw, mpocevvérots.
2 Poet, c. 1v.; below, Part 11.

THE RELIGIOUS ORIGIN OF THE GREEK DRAMA. 11

plainly than Tragedy the original form and the genuine spirit of
the religion of Bacchus, borrowed its theatrical attire from the com-
pleted Tragedy of Auschylus, we must trace the development both
of the tragic chorus and of the tragic dialogue before we can speak
of Athenian Comedy and its varieties; and we shall find that the
latest form of ancient Comedy, while it approximates to the drama
of modern Europe, in the machinery of its plot and incidents,
derives its leading characteristics from the last of the great trage-
dians, and not only discards all allusions to the Phallic origin of
the Comus, but even evades a direct reference to the religious festi-
vals with which it was formally connected. Accordingly, the
order, in which we propose to treat the subject, will both exhaust
the materials at our disposal, without incurring a risk of repetition,
and will present the facts connected with the growth of the Greek
drama in the legitimate order of cause and effect, and in accordance
with the laws of their historical development.

CHAPTER II.

THE CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS, DEMETER
AND APOLLO.

Sedr’ év yopdv, ’ONprro1,
éme Te KNUTav TéureTe xdpw, Oeol.
PINDAR.

JHATEVER opinion may be entertained respecting the in-

-digenous character of other Greek deities, there cannot be
the slightest doubt that the worship of Dionysus or Bacchus was
of oriental origin, and that it was introduced into Greece by the
Pheenicians, who, together with the priceless gift of the Semitic
alphabet, imparted tothe Pelasgian inhabitants of the Mediterra-
nean coasts a knowledge of those forms of elementary worship which
were more or less common to the natives of Canaan and Egypt.
The mythical founder of Thebes, the Phoenician Cadmus, is con-
nected with both of these innovations. For while he directly
teaches the use of letters’, it is his daughter Semele, who, accord-
ing to the tradition, in B.c. 1544 gives birth to Dionysus, the
Theban wine-god*, The genealogy of Cadmus connects him not
only with Phoenicia, but also with Egypt, Libya, Cilicia, and
Crete’, And the historical interpretation of the legend is simply

1 Herod. v. 58; Diod. m1. 67, v. 57; Plin. H. N. vit. 56.
2 Herod. 1. 145. According to Herodotus, 11. 49, Cadmus himself was a wor-
shipper of Dionysus, and taught this religion to Melampus.

3 The pedigree is as follows (Creuzer, Symbol. Iv. p. 8):

Agenor, son of Neptune and Libya, in Phoenicia. Telephassa.
Cadmus.——-——Harmonia. Pheenix. Cilix. Europa.

te m— ee - Seer a aw
Polydorus. Semele. Autonoe. Agave. Ino,

—_—— Jupiter.

Dionysus.

CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS, DEMETER AND APOLLO. 13

this, that the Phcenician navigators, who visited every part of
the Mediterranean, carrying their commerce and their language
to the distant regions of Spain and Britain, succeeded, after some
opposition, in establishing their own worship on the main land
of northern Greece about the middle of the sixteenth century
before our era.

In order that we may understand the true and original cha-~
racter of a religion, which the plastic fancy and eclectic liberalism
of the Greeks modified by an intermixture of heterogeneous ele-
ments, it will be necessary to consider the forms of faith and
worship, which were cultivated by the Phcenicians and other
Semitic tribes in the country from which they set forth on their
voyages for the purposes of commerce or colonisation.

Among the Semitic nations, as in all. the most ancient com-
munities of men, the Sun and Moon were the primary objects
of adoration!'. The Sun, on account of his greater power and
brightness?, was worshipped as a male divinity under some one of
the names Bel or Baal, and Melek, Molech, Moloch, Milkom, or
Malchan, signifying “ Lord” or “ King” respectively?.. The Moon,
with her weaker light and the humidity which accompanied the
period of her reign, was regarded as a female deity‘, and wor-
shipped as Asherah, the goddess of prosperity®, or Astarte, the
bright star of heaven®. Each of these deities had its cheerful,
as well as its gloomy aspect. The Sun, which ripens the fruit,
also burns up vegetation. He is the god not only of generation
but also of destruction. The Moon, which gives the fertilizing

1 The attributes and worship of these Semitic deities have been well discussed by
F. W. Ghillany, die Menschenopfer der alten Hebrder, Niirnberg, 1842, pp. 118 sqq.
See also F. Nork, Biblische Mythologie, Stuttgardt, 1842, Vol. I. pp. 12—137.

? Macrob. Saturn. I. 21, 12: significantes hunc deum solem esse, regalique potestate
sublimem cuncta despicere, quia solem Jovis oculum appellat antiquitas.

3 See New Cratylus, § 479. That the sun-god was a king was an idea familiar to
the Greeks also, Thus Alschylus, Perse, 228: rite mpds duvcuats dvakxros ‘HAlov
Ppbwacuarwv.

4 Plutarch, Zs. et Os. c. 53; Macrob. Sat. I. 17, 53.

5 TIN from W®S “to be happy,”=% uwaxapla, Fuerst, however (Handwirterb.
I, p. 155), renders it socia, conjua, i.e. of Baal, as the Pheenician TDN (Osir) ‘the
husband,” is an epithet of the male god.

6 Gesenius, Thesaur. p. 1083: ‘nil fere dubito quin ninwy idem sit quod TAIDS,
stella, kar’ é£ox7y stella Veneris, ita ut Acrpodpyn, quomodo Astarte appellatur (Hero-
dian. 5, 6, § 10), etymon bene referat.” That Astarte was the Moon is distinctly
stated by Lucian, de dea Syria, 4: ’Aordprny 5é éyw Soxéw Dednvainv éuuevar. And
this is shown by her representation as a horned goddess: see the passages quoted by
Gesenius, J. c.

14 THE CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS,

dew, is also the goddess of the dark hours of night from which
she regularly withdraws from time to time her silver light. This
division of attributes favoured the introduction of the other planets
(for the Sun and Moon were classed with the planets) into the
cycle of the deities to be worshipped. In his benignant aspect
the Sun was occasionally represented by Jupiter’; as a malig-
nant god he was generally superseded by Saturn’, though Mars
assumed some of his functions as hostile to the human race®. On
the other hand, Astarte was as often represented by the planet
Venus as by the Moon*. If Mercury played any part at all it
was as a subordinate and inferior manifestation of goodiness®. In
their supposed order of distance from the earth, the seven so-called
planets were arranged as follows: Saturn, the most distant,
Jupiter, Mars, the Sun, Venus, Mercury, the Moon. And assign-
ing each of the 24 hours of the day and the night to a repeated
series of the planets in this order, they found that if the first
hour of a particular day was assigned to Saturn, the first hour
of the following day would belong to the Sun, of the next day
to the Moon, and so on in the order preserved to our times by the
names of the days of the week®, According to the Semitic mode
of viewing the supremacy of the distant and gloomy Saturn, the
seventh and last day was consecrated to him’, and when it was
discovered that the number six was a perfect number, it was in-
ferred that no other period could be assigned to the creation of all
things under his auspices’: On the seventh day therefore the

1 Phaethon was both Jupiter and the Sun. Cf. Cic. de Nat. Deor. 11. 20; Athen-
wus, VII. p. 326B; Horat. 2 Carm. xvit. 22: te Jovis impio tutela Saturno refulgens
eripuit. Cf. Jul. Firmicus, p. 328. This opposition between Jove and Saturn is pre-
served in our adjectives ‘‘Jovial” and ‘‘Saturnine,” derived from the Neo-Platonic
school. .

2 Propert. Iv. 1, 84; Lucan, 1. 650; Tac. Hist. v.4; Juv. VI. 569; Manetho, rit.
245: Kpévov BX\aBepatyeos aorzp.

3 Ovid, Am. 1. 8, 29: stella tibi oppositi nocuit contraria Martis.

4 Cicero, de Natur. Deor. 111. 23; Phil. Bybl. ap. Euseb. Prep. Evang. 1. 10;
Theodoret, 111. Reg. Quest. 50; Augustin, Qu. in Jud. vil. ; Suidas, s. v. ’Aordpry.

5 Mercury is regarded as the messenger of the supreme deity, because he is nearest
to the Sun and of equal apparent velocity (Cicero, de Natur. Deor. 11. 20 ad fin.; Tim.
c. 9, p. 505; de Rep. vi. 17, § 17). He was often identified with Apcllo (Macrob. I.
19, 16) or with the Sun (ibid. 8).

6 Dio Cassius, XXXVII. 19, p. 137, Bekker, The passage is translated at length in
the Philol, Mus. 1. pp. 2, 3-

7 Creuzer, Symbol. 11. p. 186. We find the same number sacred to Apollo and
Dionysus, who are other forms of the sun-god; Creuzer, 1. l. IV. p. 117.

8 It seems clear that in the opinion of Plato, who echoed Pythagorean and Hera-
cleitean theories more immediately derived from the last, the @etov yerynréy, or the

DEMETER AND APOLLO. 15

priests clothed in black made an offering to Saturn in his black
six-sided temple’. Similar offerings were made to the planets
Mars and Jupiter on the third and fifth days of the week. But
although these specialities of planetary worship appeared in the
religious systems of most of the Semitic tribes, these nations were
always ready to fall back on the general worship of the Sun and
the Moon, the latter being also regarded as the goddess of the
Earth ; and while the former presided over all the modifications of
the rites sacred to Baal or Moloch, the latter appears as his
correlative in all that was either savage or lascivious in his peculiar
worship. @

As a malignant deity, or more specifically as Moloch, the sun-
god is tauriform? and is appeased by the offering of human victims*.
In the same capacity his sister deity, whether representing the
Moon or the Earth, has the head of a cow‘, and is always con-
nected, in the oldest forms of her worship, with the same horrid
rites. It is very interesting to trace this Semitic development of
the idea that the Divine Being is wroth with man and is best
appeased with the blood of his noblest creature, as it spreads itself
along the Mediterranean till it is checked every where by the
purer humanity and juster sentiments of the Greeks®. Both in
Palestine and at Carthage Moloch was represented by a metal
figure either human with a bull’s head or entirely bovine, in which
the human victims, generally children, were burnt alive’. There
can be no doubt that the brazen bull of Phalaris at Agrigentum
was a remnant of Carthaginian or Phcenician worship established
there’, and that the burning of human victims, inaugurated by
Perillus, was due rather to the Semitic worship than to the arbi-
trary cruelty of a tyrant, whose name, though treated with living

world (de Anim. Procr. in Tim. 10170, p. 142, Wyttenb.), was indicated by a period
which was represented by the perfect number 6, the human creation, or the state,
being represented by a series of arithmetical calculations based on this (Plat. Resp.
p- 546; see our interpretation of the passage, Trans. of Philol. Soc. Vol. 1. No. 8).

1 Gesenius, Commentar. tiber d. Jesaia, 1% p. 344.

* Macrobius, Saturnal. 1. 21, § 20.

3 Kenrick, Phenicia, pp. 315 sqq-

* See the figure in Gesenius, Thesaurus, p. 1083, and comp. New Cratylus, § 470.

> Creuzer, Symbol. 11. 447.

5 See the passage quoted from B. Jarchi, ad Jer. vit. 31, by Winer, Realwérterb.

8. v. Molech; the well-known description in Diodor. Sic. xx. 14; and the passage
translated from Jalkut in Hyde, Hist. Rel. Vet. Pers. p. 132.

7 See J. E. Ebert, Zixed. I. 1, pp. 41—106, quoted by Creuzer 7. If p. 447 5;
and Ghillany, Menschenopf. p. 226. 4 y , Symbo p

16 THE CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS,

abhorrence by Pindar}, is perhaps as mythical as that of Busiris*.
The fact that this bull was afterwards recognized at Carthage
clearly. proves its Semitic origin and religious use’. The rescue of
Athens from the worshippers of Moloch in Crete is described mythi-
cally as the slaying by Theseus of an ox-headed Minotaur, to
whom the Athenians were obliged to send every nine years a tribute
of seven youths and seven maidens, the sacred number of the
Semitic Saturn. Hercules similarly liberates the Italians from
their thraldom to the semi-taurine® Cacus, who murdered men in a
cave or grotto corresponding to the Cretan labyrinth®. The man
of brass called Talos, who haunted both Crete and Sardinia, and
slew strangers in his red-hot embraces, is another form of the image
of Moloch?. Nor was the female goddess without her share in.
these homicidal rites. The Europa or broad-faced moon, who is
borne on the back of a bull to the Minotaur’s island Crete, is the
same deity as the "Apreuus TavporroAn of the coasts of the Euxine®
to whom strangers were sacrificed. The interrupted sacrifice of
Iphigenia points to the prevalence of such a rite in her worship.
And the name ’Op@acia, or OpO/a, which was given to this god-
dess in Lemnos and elsewhere, undoubtedly referred to the loud
wailings of her victims, for which the floggings of the Spartan
youth were a sort of compromise?.

1 Pyth. 1.95: Tov 6 ravpw xadrxéw kavrijpa vyréa voor éxOpa Pddapw Karéxer mayra
gdtis, where he is contrasted with the guidppwv aperd of Croesus. ;

2 The tradition that Phalaris feasted on children (Aristot. Ath. Nic. vu. 5, § 2).
clearly identifies him with Moloch. It is not improbable that even the name @ddapis
may be connected with the Bacchic attributes Pads and @dAnos (i.e. with the Semitic
ae) and M25), and that he is merely himself a representative of the Atévucos Tavpo-
xépws. If so, it will be a curious reflection that historical criticism arose in a contro-
versy respecting the authenticity of some highly rhetorical epistles in Attic Greek
attributed to this imaginary personage!

3 See Cicero, in Verrem, IV. 33. ee

4 That the Minotaur was an object of worship is clear from the representation on a
vase, which exhibits the monster as about to sacrifice the seven Athenian maidens on
an altar (Bottiger, Ideen zur Kunstmyth. Taf. v.). The names of Pasiphae, the
mother, and Ariadne-Aridela (’Apté#\av, Thy ’Apiddvnvy Kpjres, Hesych.), the sister of
the Minotaur, point to his true character as a form of the Sun-god.

5 Virgil (4n. vitt. 192) merely calls him Semihomo, but we may supply the other
half by a reference to Ovid’s description of the Minotaur as Semibovemque virwm semi-
virumque bovem (2 Ar, Am. Vv. 23).

6 When he is called the son of Vulcan, and is said to breathe forth fire, the refer-
ence is no doubt to the brazen statue of Moloch.

7 Apollod. 1. 9, § 26.

8 Kenrick, On Herodotus, I. 44.

® Creuzer, Symbol. 11. 528.

DEMETER AND APOLLO. Le

Now it appears that Dionysus or Bacchus, the latter name and
its synonym Iacchus referring to the outcries attending his worship,
first appeared to the Greeks as a tauriform sun-god appeased by
human victims’. As late as the classical days of the Greek drama it
was customary to address him as appearing in the shape of a bull,
or at least with the horns of that animal’, And many of his
epithets pointed to the human blood which was shed at his altars.
He was called "Quads or "OQpuoddyos, because he had human sacri-
fices at Chios, Lesbos, and Tenedos’, and his name Zaypevs is best
explained by a similar reference*. Persian prisoners were solemnly
offered up to him on the day before the battle of Salamis’. ‘The
Delphic oracle sanctioned the yearly sacrifice at Potniz in Beeotia
of a beautiful boy to Dionysus, until, as in the story of Iphigenia,
a kid was substituted for the victim®. At the feast called Zxcépeva,
a scourging of women took the place of the human sacrifice to
Dionysus at Alea in Arcadia, in the same way as the boys were
whipped rather than slain in honour of Artemis Orthosia’,

The Semitic sun-god and his Greek representative Dionysus
were not only worshipped under the form of a wrathful and cruel
Moloch, to whom the blood of human victims was an acceptable
and even necessary offering. He appeared also as the god of gene-
ration and reproduction, as the cause both of human life, and of
that annual growth of the fruits of the earth*, by which human life

1 See the passages quoted by Ghillany, Menschenopf. p. 225. °

2 In the Bacche of Euripides (1008) the chorus says to the god: ¢dvnf& Tatpos,
and we have in 1149: Tadpov rponynripa cunpopas éxwv. In the festival of Dionysus
of Elis, he was greeted as dive Tape, and invited to come Body modi, i.e. with a
blessing (Creuzer, Symbolik, 11. p. 204, IV. p. 56); and similarly he is bidden to approach
Ka@apolw modi in Sophocles, Antig. 1143. The authority for the Klean usage is
Plutarch, Qu. Gr, XXXVI., who gives the hymn addressed to Bacchus by the Elean
women as follows: Ae pw Ardvuce ddiov és vady ayvov oly Xaplreccw és vady TE
Boéw modl Otwv: tra dis érddovow tite Tadpe. He adds the question, wérepoy re kal
Bouyer mpocayopevovow Kal radpoy Tov Pedy. Euripides defines Bacchus as tavpoxepws
6e6s (Bacch. 100): and he was also called ravpdmopdos, BovKepws, Keparpdpos, Kepa-
ropuys, xpvodxepws, and the like. See on this subject F. Streber’s elaborate paper,
Ueber den Stier mit dem Menschengesichte auf dem Munzen von Unteritalien und Sicilien,
Munich Transactions for 1837, 1. pp. 453 8qq-

3 Porphyr. de Abst. I. 55.

4 Creuzer, Symbol. 1v. pp. 96 sqq.

5 Plutarch, Themist. c. 13.

6 Pausan. Ix. 8. 7 Id. vit. 23.

8 With reference to the functions of Dionysus as the god of all ripe fruits, Plato
calls the yevvala drwpa, or fruits which may be eaten from the trees, as distinguished
from the dypotkos émwpa, or fruits intended for ulterior applications, by the somewhat
strange designation of maid (not madela) Acovvords aOnoaripicros (Legg. 844 D).
Hence Bacchus is called devdpirys ; Plut. Qu. Sympos. p. 675 F; Athen. m1. 78 B,

D. T. G. 2

18 THE CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS,

was sustained, above all, as the giver of the grape, which made
glad the heart of man, and stimulated him to all that was pleasant
and joyous. In this capacity, he was worshipped in his Semitic
home as Baal-Peor'; in Byblus, and other Semitic cities, he bore the
name of Adonis’; and the Jews called him also Thammuz, from
the name of the month July, in which his worship, as that of
the glowing and triumphant Sun, was more especially celebrated’.
In some parts of Asia Minor the Sun, as the fructifying principle,
was worshipped as Priapus‘, and though this deity was really
another form of Dionysus, one of the mythological legends made
him the son of Venus, and a doubtful father, either Dionysus
or Adonis*’. In Palestine, and wherever it appeared, the worship
of Baal-Peor was accompanied by frightful immoralities®, and there
is every reason to believe that the pure and divine religion of the
Jews, which denounced the inhuman rites of Moloch, was based on
a still more formal repudiation of the worship of a deity, for
whose name the Israelites indignantly substituted the word Bosheth,
signifying “shame’.” The sun-god, as the giver of life, was repre-
sented under the more decent type of a serpent®; but the revolting
emblem of the Phallus was openly displayed in every country to
which this form of religion had penetrated®; it was a necessary
accompaniment of the rural feast of Bacchus in Attica”; till'the last
century it existed in all its most repulsive features in the heart of

1 YB bya or WYB only (Numbers xxv. 1 sqq., xxxi. 16; Josh. xxii. 17). The

name is represented by the Fathers as Beehpfaydép or Belphegor (Etym. M, ad v.;
Hieron. in Os. ¢. 9).

2 Creuzer, Symb. 11. pp. 472 sqq. The name is the common Semitic expression for
‘my Lord,” and is therefore nearly synonymous with Baal.

3 Ezek. viii. 14. 4 Lobeck, Aglaophamus, p. 499-
5 Schol. Apoll. Rh, I. 932.
6 Creuzer, Symbol. 11. 411.

7 e.g. Hosea ix. 10, ‘‘ They went to Baal-Peor and separated themselves unto that
shame, and their abominations were according as they loved.”

8 For the serpent as the Orphic first principle, see Creuzer, Symbol. It. 224; Iv. 83,
85; for its use as a symbol of Saturn or Moloch, see Creuzer, ibid. III. 69; for its use
in the worship of Bacchus and along with the Phallus, see Creuzer, ibid. IV. 137 ;
Gerhard, Anthesterien, pp. 158, 160. It was, in fact, a type of the Agathodemon
(Creuzer, Iv. p. 55), an Egyptian symbol (Lampridius, Heliogabal. 28), as such adopted
by the Israelites (Vwmb. xxi. 8). Justin Martyr says rather too generally (Apol. I.
27, p. 71 A): mapa mavtl Tay vourvouevwr map’ bpiv OeGy bgis oUuBodrov péya Kal puta
piov dvarypdgerat, but from the context he seems to have understood its meaning.

9 See ey. Herod. 1. 48. That these figures existed in Palestine may be inferred
from 1 Kings xiv. 23; 2 Kings xvii. 10, xxiii. 14; Hos. x. 1. For this worship in
Italy, see Plin, H. N. xxvitt. 4, 7; August. Civ. Det, VII. 21, 24, 23 Arnob. IV. 7.

10 See e.g. Aristoph. Acharn. 243.

DEMETER AND APOLLO. 19

Christian Italy’; and the oldest traditions derive the indecency of
this adoration of the reproductive powers of nature from the drunk-
enness of the vine-god and his festival’.

It was as a Phallic god and as the giver of wine that Dionysus
retained his place in the popular worship of ancient Greece. And
in this capacity his worship connects itself indissolubly with the
mysteries of Demeter and her daughter, the goddesses of the earth
and of the under-world®. Generally the productiveness of the earth
is regarded as the result of a marriage between the god of the sky,—
whether he appears as the genial Sun or as the refreshing rain,—
and the goddess, who represents the teeming earth, and weds her
daughter to Plutus or Pluto, the owner of the treasures hidden
below the surface of the ground, either actually, as metallic riches,
or potentially, as the germs of vegetable growth*. To the last, this
was the leading characteristic of the old Athenian worship of
Dionysus, and his spring festival, the Anthesteria, was accompanied
by mystic solemnities, pointing’ at once to this ideal of his reli-
gion, and to its Semitic origin’. At this festival the mysteries
were entrusted to the wife of the king Archon, and to fourteen
priestesses called yépatpat, whose number is that of the victims
sent to the Minotaur, and is obviously Semitic’. As the repre-
sentative of the State, and as symbolizing the virgin daughter of
Demeter, who returned to earth in the spring, the king Archon’s
wife was solemnly espoused to Dionysus’, just as conversely the

1 At Isernia, one of the most ancient cities in the kingdom of Naples, situated in
the Contado di Molise. It was destroyed by an earthquake in 1805, a judgment, as
some might think, for this iniquity.

2 Compare Tzetzes, Chiliad. VII. 211:

Tod olvoupylas evperod, dnul, Tod Alyumrlou
Tod N&e kcal ’Oclpiéos-

with the tradition preserved by Berosus respecting the Phallic worship introduced by
Ham: ‘‘hic est ille Belphegor” (says Cornelius Agrippa, Opp. 11. p. 63), “ idolum
omnium antiquissimum, quod et Chamos dictum est, a Chamo filio Noe, qui, teste
Beroso, idcirco Hsenna cognominatus est, hoc est, impudicus sive ignominiosus propa-
gator.”

3 This subject has been recently discussed by Gerhard, iiber die Anthesterien und
das Verhdltniss der attischen Dionysos zwm Koradienst, Berlin, 1858.

4 Petersen, geh. Gottesd. b. d. Griech. 1848, p. 17.

5 The principal passage for this ceremonial is in the speech against Newra, attri-
buted to Demosthenes, p. 1370.

6 Servius, ad dneid. vi. 21, Miiller, Dor. 1. 2, 2, § 14, recognizes the worship of
Apollo, i.e. of the sun-god in the number 7, and the Ennaeteris in the period of the
sacrifice.

7 It was only on the day of these espousals, the 12th of Anthesterion, that the
temple was opened (Dem. in Neer. p. 1377)+

20 THE CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS,

Venetian Doge annually married the sea, and she alone was ad-
mitted to gaze on the mysterious emblems of the god’s worship,
on which the welfare of the State was supposed to depend, namely,
the sacred serpent and the Phallus*. It is impossible not to recog-
nize in this usage some connexion with the story of Theseus and
his Cretan expedition. For Ariadne, whom the Athenian hero
carries away from Crete and leaves at Naxos, becomes the bride of
Dionysus. And the fourteen victims of the Minotaur reappear in
the fourteen yéparpat, and in the noble youths and maidens sacri-
ficed to the sacred serpent of Bacchus’, As Semele represents the
earth’, Dionysus appears not only as her son, but also as her hus-
band; for in his original form he is the main representative of the
fructifying power of heaven. These oscillations in the persons of
the sacred allegory need not create any difficulty, for the free play
of fancy has combined and recombined the elements of the picture,
like the changing figures of a kaleidoscope.

The forms of elementary worship, in which the powers of the
sky and earth were personified, and which we have thus traced
from their Semitic origin, were established among the Pelasgian
tribes of Greece long before the epoch called the return of the
Heracleids, which marks the establishment of a Dorian, or purely
Hellenic, race in the country which we call by their generic
name. According to the ethnographic results which we adopt
as most probable‘, the Dorians or Hellenes, properly so styled,
were ultimately the same race as the Persians. And they had
from the earliest times a sun-god of a very different character
from that of the Semitic tribes. ‘The Ormuzd of the Persians was
a god of light and purity, an archer-god, the giver of victory and
empire, the charioteer of heaven, or the rider of the heavenly
steed®; and the Apollo of the Dorians possessed many of these attri-
butes, But although, as an essentially warlike people, and averse
from agricultural employments, which they considered the proper
occupation of those whom they had conquered with the spear’,

1 Gerhard, Myth. 450, 1. 2 Id. Anthester, notes 43, 44.

3 ““Semele denotes the ground, not only according to Diodorus, m1. 61, but also
according to the certain derivation of the name, as OeuéXn, OéueOdov (cf. HOE neOr05) ;
Welcker, Gétterlehre, 1. p. 536.” Gerhard, Anthest. note 96,

4 New Cratylus, § 92. Compare Gladstone, Homeric Studies, 1. pp. 545 8944.
5 Varronianus, p. 61, ed. 3.
® See the spirited drinking song by Hybrias, the Cretan, Athen. p. 695 ¥, and ef.

DEMETER AND APOLLO. 21

the Dorians were not very likely to adopt for its own sake a
merely elementary worship, which is the usual idolatry of the
tillers of the soil, their national deity Apollo would of course
‘retain his traditionary position as a sun-god; and it was quite
in accordance with the usual procedure that he should supersede
the corresponding divinity, whom the northern tribes found esta-
blished among their Pelaggian or Achzan subjects. The Dorians,
when they conquered any country, generally introduced the wor-
ship of their own gods, but they endeavoured at the same time to
unite it with the religion which they found established in their
settlements. Thus they adopted the elementary gods of Laconia,
the Tyndaride, taking care, however, to give their worship a m7li-
tary and political reference’, so as to make it coincide with the
attributes of Apollo, whose office of leader of the army was trans-
ferred to them. Similarly Apollo was made the object of the
Hyacinthia, an ancient festival connected with the elementary reli-
gion of the Aigide*. Now the Dorians worshipped, along with
Apollo, a female form of that god, called by the same name (with
of course a different termination), invested with the same attri-
butes, and looked upon as his sister®. This need not surprise any
one who has paid ordinary attention to systematic mythology ; for
we constantly find in all polytheisms sets of duplicate divinities,
male and female*. Now this is most particularly the case with
those divinities who were the dpynyérae of the different nations.
Thus there was both a Romus and a Roma®, a Vitellius and a
Vitellia®, In some instances it may be accounted for from the fact
that the original division of the nation has been two-fold?: and in
this way we would explain the double form of the national divinity
of the Dorians; for it appears to us that they were not always

Isocr. Panath. p. 326, Bekker: Aaxedaudvioe duedijoarres yewpyidy kal Texvv cal
G&\\wv amrdvrwr.

1 See Miiller’s Dorians, 11. ch. 10, § 8, and compare our remarks in the following
chapter of this Book,

2 Miiller’s Dor, 1. ch. 8, § 15. |

3 For instance, if Apollo was Loxias, Artemis was Loxo, if he was Hecaergos, she
was Hecaergé. See Miiller’s Dor. 11. ch. 9, § 2, notes (u) and (x) especially, Butt-
mann, Mytholog. 1. p. 16.

4 See Niebuhr, Hist. Rom. 1. pp. 100, tor. And sometimes deities of doubtful sex :
compare Thirlwall in the Philol. Museum, Vol. 1. pp. 116, 117; and on the androgynous
character of Bacchus, see Welcker on the Frogs of Aristophanes, p. 224.

5 Malden’s Rome, p. 123.
8 Niebuhr, ZZist. Rom. 1. p. 14. 7 Niebuhr, 1. p. 287; comp. 224.

22 THE CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS,

tpiydixes, but that they at first consisted only of the two branches
of the family of Augimius, the Dymanes and the Pamphylians,
and that the Heracleids were not till afterwards incorporated among
them’, However this may be, the fact is certain; there were two”
leading divinities in the Dorian religion. Now in the elementary
worship of the Pelasgians and Achwzans there were also two divi-
nities similarly related. These were the, Sun and the Moon, wor-
shipped under the related names of Helios and Selene, and by the
Pelasgian old inhabitants of Italy, as well under appellations con-
nected with the Greek, as under the names of Janus or Dianus,
and Diana?, In Greece, however, the original denominations of
these divinities fell into disuse at an early period, and were rather
employed to designate the natural objects themselves than the celes-
tial powers whom they were supposed to typify; and Dionysus or
Bacchus was adopted as a new name for the sun-god, and Deo or
Demeter for the goddess of the Moon’, These divinities, as we
have seen above, were Phcenician importations; and, connected as
they were in many of their attributes with the old elementary wor-
ship of the Pelasgians, they soon established themselves as consti-
tuent paris of that worship, and were at length blended and
confused with the gods of the country. For Dionysus was the
wine-god, and Deo the fertile earth from which the vine sprang
up. How natural, then, was the transition from the god who
gaye wine to mortals, to the Sun to whose influence its growth
was mainly owing! But if he ascended from earth to heaven,
it was necessary that his sister deity should go with him; and
as his bride Ariadne shone among the stars, so might Demeter,
Thyone, or Semele, his mother, sister, or wife, be also trans-
lated to the Moon, and rule amid the lights of night. Indeed,
Bacchus himself is sometimes represented as a night-god, and in
Sophocles he is invoked as the choragus, or choir-leader, of the

1 See Miiller’s Dor. 1. ch. 1, § 8.

2 "Hos and Ledjvy are connected like #\y and silva (cf. the proper name Sila,
Paley, ad Propert. p. 52); Sol and (Se)luna are the same words under another form.

On Janus, or Dianus, see Niebuhr, Hist. Rom.1. p. 83; Buttmann, Mytholog. 1.
p- 73; Déderlein, Lat. Synon. und Etym. 1. p. 6. There was also a “Exaros as well
as a ‘Exdrn (see Alberti’s note on Hesych. s. v. ‘Exdrow). Mr. Scott, of Brasenose
College, Oxford, has given a further development of these principles in a very inge-
nious and satisfactory essay on the mythology of Io, which appeared in the Classical
Museum, No. XIt.

3 That Bacchus was the sun-god clearly appears from the authorities quoted by
Welcker (Nachtrag zur Trilogie, p. 190).

DEMETER AND APOLLO. 23

fire-breathing stars, as one celebrated by nocturnal invocations’.
Thus Bacchus and Demeter were the representatives of those two
heavenly bodies by which the husbandmen measured the returning
seasons, and as such, though not immediately connected with agri-
culture*, are invoked by the learned Virgil at the commencement
of the Georgics®, They also represented the earth and its produc-
tions: but there is still another phase which they exhibit; they
were, in the third place, the presiding deities of the under-world’.
This also admits of an obvious interpretation. The Greeks, as a
consequence of their habit of imparting actual objective existence
with will and choice to every physical cause, considered the cause
of anything as also in some measure the cause of its contrary.
Thus Apollo is not only the cause, but also the preventer of sudden
death: Mars causes the madness of Ajax®, he is therefore supposed
to have cured the hero of his disease7; the violent wind which
raised the billows also lulls them to rest*; night, which puts an
end to day, also brings the day to light®; and Bacchus, the bright
and merry god, is also the superintendent of the:orphic or black
rites ; the god of life, he is also the god of death; the god of light,
he is also the ruling power in the nether regions”.

The worship of Dionysus” consequently partook of the same
variations as that of the sun-god whom he superseded ; and while,
on the one hand, his sufferings and mischances were bewailed,
on the other hand, as the god of light, wine, and generation,
as the giver of life and of all that renders life cheerful, his rites
were celebrated with suitable liveliness and mirth. That mimicry
should enter largely into such a worship, is only what we should
expect’. A religion which recognizes a divinity in the great objects

1 Antig. 1130. 2 Welcker, Nachtrag, p. 191.
31, 5—7: ——— Vos, O clarissima mundi

Lumina, labentem ccelo qui ducitis annum,
Liber et alma Ceres.

4 Herod. 11. 123. 5 Miiller’s Dor. 11. ch. 6, § 2, 3.

6 Soph. Aj. 179. 7 Td. ibid. 706. 8 Id. ibid. 674.

9 Id. Trachin. 94. For this reason, says Eustath. ad Iliad. A. p. 22, Apollo is
called the son of Latona, rouréort, vuxtés. Conversely Horat. Carm. Sec. 10:

Alme sol, curru nitido diem qui
Promis et celas.
10 Herod, 11. 123.
11 Tt seems to us that Ovdévy or Autvy is the feminine form of Aidvugos, or more
anciently Acwyugos.

12 Above, p. 9. The mirror which is given to Bacchus by Vulcan is an emblem of

24 THE CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS,

of nature,—which looks upon the Sun and Moon as visible repre-
sentatives of the invisible potentates of the earth, and sky, and
under-world,—is essentially imitative in all its rites. The reason
why such a religion should exist at all, is, as we have already
shown in a general way, also a reason why the ceremonies of it
should be accompanied by mimicry. ‘The men who could consider
the Sun as the visible emblem of an all-seeing power who from day
to day performs his constant round, the cause of light and life; the
Moon, his sister goddess, who exercises the same functions by
night; the two though distant (é€xarov) yet always present powers
(pootarnptot); the men who could see in the circling orbs of night
“the starry nymphs who dance around the pole;” such men, we
say, would not be long in finding out some means of representing
these emblems on earth. If the Sun and the ever-revolving lights
were fit emblems and suggestions of a deity, the circling dance
round the blazing altar was an obvious copy of the original sym-
bols, and an equally apt representation’.

The heavenly powers became gods of the earth, and it was
reasonable that the co-ordinate natural causes of productiveness
should also have their representatives, who would form the atten-
dants of the personified primal causes of the same effects. The
sun-god therefore, when he roamed the earth, was properly attended
by the Sileni, the deities presiding over running streams’; the
goddess of the Moon by the Naiades, the corresponding female
divinities ; nay, sometimes the two bands united to form one merry
train’, To these Sileni were added a mixture of man and goat

the mimetic character of his worship—ofov Acovicouv év karémrpw, Plotinus, Iv. 3, 12
(see the passagés quoted by Creuzer in his note on p. 707, 1, 3, of his edition).

1 See the author ep! AvpixGv, apud Boissonade, Anecd. Gr. Iv. p. 458; Rhein.
Mus. 1833, p. 169; cf. note on Soph. Ant. 1113, p. 224. Though all polytheisms
are connected with the production of the mimetie arts, the modes of imitation differ
with the nature of the religion. The symbols of an elementary religion are the
objects of imitation; but in a mental religion, art is called upon to produce from the
ideal a visible symbol. The mimicry of action is the result of the former, the
mimicry of sculpture of the latter. Hence the primitive gods, who were parts of an
elementary worsbip, were not originally represented by statues (comp. Miller,
Lumen. § 89, 99, 93). ‘* Ye eldest gods,” says Ion,

‘Who in no statues of exactest form
Are palpable ; who shun the azure heights
Of beautiful Olympus, and the sound
Of ever-young Apollo’s minstrelsy.”
Talfourd’s Jon, Act iii, Sc. 2,

2 Welcker, Nachtrag, p. 214.
3 Strabo, p. 468,

DEMETER AND APOLLO. 25

called Satyrs, who were sometimes confounded with the former,
though their origin appears to have been quite different ; for while
the Sileni were real divinities of an elementary religion, the Satyrs
were only the deified representatives of the original worshippers’,
who probably assumed as portions of their droll costume the skin
of the goat, which they had sacrificed as a welcome offering to
their wine-god’,

Such was the religion of Bacchus as it appeared in Greece; and
there is no doubt that it was speedily accepted by the Pelasgian
and Achzan tribes; that it presented the duplicate form, which
it had exhibited in its eastern home; that the mixed religion be-
came prevalent both within and without the Peloponnese; and that
the Dorians, having a pair of deities corresponding in many re-
spects to those objects of elementary worship which they found
established in most of the countries they subdued, very naturally
adapted their own religion to the similar one already subsisting ;
and that accordingly Dionysus took or maintained his place by
the side of Apollo even in the Delphic worship.

In addition to the circumstances which adapted the religions
themselves to an amalgamation such as we find in their ultimate
form, there were features in the rites of Dionysus, even in their
most ancient halting-places in Crete and elsewhere, which recom-
mended them to the martial tastes of the northern Hellenes. The
dances of the Curetes and Corybantes were decidedly military®,
and the Bacchic rites, at least as adopted by the Spartans, had
a gymnastic character, which accorded well with the rigorous train-
ing of the female population in Laconia’.

From this brief sketch it will be seen that the connexion of the
worship of Dionysus, Demeter, and Apollo, in which we recognize
the earliest appearances of dramatic rites, was due to the common

1 Strabo, p. 466: rovrous ydp Twas daluovas 7 mpomrddous Pedy, K.T.N. Pp. 471: Kal
bre ob mpbmodot Hedy pdvoy CAAA Kal adrol Geol rpoonyopevOncar.

2 Varro, de R. R. 1. 2, 18, 19; Virgil, Georg. u. 376—383; Ovid, Fast. 1. 349—
360; Eurip. Bacch. 138.

3 Strabo, p. 466.

4 There were races at Sparta between young women in honour of Bacchus.
Hesych.: Atovuciddes. év Dardpry mapbéva, ai év rots Acovualors dpduov dywrifiuevat.
Pausan. IT, 13, 7: 7@ dé ypwit Trovrw (Acovicou ryeusm) mp 7 TE GEG Ovovoew ai
Acovuotddes kal al Aeuximmldes []. Aevxdmrodes]. ras 5¢ ddX\as tvoexa ds Kal abras Acovu-
ciddas dvoudtover, tavrais Spduov mporiéacw dyava’ dpdv 5é otrw aglow HOE Ex
Ae\gav. Something of the same kind appears to be alluded to in Eurip. Bacch. 853
sqq-: dp’ év mavvuxlos xopots Ojow more Nevkdv 765° dvaBuxxevouca.

26 THE CONNECTED WORSHIP OF DIONYSUS, &c.

elements which they contained and to the readiness to adopt and
appropriate the representative forms of human thought, which is
universally characteristic of a plastic polytheism. We are now
prepared to discuss the choral rites of the Doric Apollo, and to
inquire into the circumstances under which the warlike dances of
the northern Greeks came to be used in the celebration of reli-
gious solemnities consecrated to the Semitic wine-god.

CHAPTER III.

THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

Doch hurtig in dem Kreise ging’s,
Sie tanzten rechts, sie tanzten links.
GOTHE.

j the earliest times of Greece, it was customary for the whole
population of a city to meet on stated occasions and offer up
thanksgivings to the gods for any great blessings, by singing
hymns, and performing corresponding dances in the public places’.
This custom was first practised in the Doric states. The main-
tenance of military discipline was the principal object of the Dorian
legislators; all their civil and religious organisation was subservient
to this; and war or the rehearsal of war was the sole business of
their lives’, Under these circumstances, it was not long before the
importance of music and dancing, as parts of public education, was
properly appreciated: for what could be better adapted than a
musical accompaniment to enable large bodies of men to keep time
and act in concert? What could be more suitable than the war-
dance, to familiarize the young citizen with the various postures of
attack and defence, and with the evolutions of an army? Music
and dancing, therefore, were cultivated at a very early period by
the Cretans, the Spartans, and the other Dorians, but only for
the sake of these public choruses®: the preservation of military
1 This is the reason why, according to Pausan. II. 11, 9, the dyopd at Sparta was
called xopés. We are rather inclined to believe that the Chorus of Dancers got its
name from the place; xopés is only another form of xp-os: and hence the epithet
evptxopos which is applied to Athens (Dem. Mid. p. 531) as well as to Sparta (Athen.
. 131 0, in some anapests of Anaxandrides). Welcker’s derivation of xopés from

xelp (Rhein. Mus. for 1834, p. 485) is altogether inadmissible. See farther, New Cra-
tylus, § 280; Antigone, Introduction, p. xxix.

2 grparomééou yap (says an Athenian to a Cretan, Plato, Legg. 0. p. 666) wodirelay
éyere’ GAN’ ovk & Aorect Katwkynkérwr. All the Dorian governments were aristo-
cracies, and therefore necessarily warlike, as Vico has satisfactorily shown, whatever
we may think of his derivation of 7é\euos from més (Scienz. Nuov. Vol. i. p. 160).

3 «We and the Spartans,” says Clinias, ‘ od« dAnv dv twa Suvalueda Biv 7 iv &v
Tots xopots €udbouer EvvjOes ddew yerdueva.” Plato, Legg. p. 666.

28 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

discipline and the establishment of a principle of subordination,
not merely the encouragement of a taste for the fine arts, were the
objects which these rude legislators had in view; and though there
is no doubt that religious feelings entered largely into all their
thoughts and actions, yet the god whom they worshipped was a
god of war’, of music?, and of civil government’, in other words,
a Dorian political deity; and with these attributes his worship and
the maintenance of their system were one and the same thing.
This intimate connexion of religion and war among the Dorians is
shown by a corresponding identity between the chorus which sang
the praises of the national deity, and the army which marched to
fight the national enemies. These two bodies were composed, in
the former case inclusively, of the same persons; they were drawn
up in the same order, and the different parts in each were distin-
guished by the same names. Good dancers and good fighters were
alike termed mpudées, i.e. mpo-idées, or “men of the vanguard*;”’
those whose station was in the rear of the battle array, or of the
chorus, were in either case called worets, or “ unequipped®;” and
the evolutions of the one body were known by the same name as
the figures of the other®. It was likewise owing to this conviction
of the importance of musical harmony, that the Dorians termed the
constitution of a state—an order or regulative principle («édcpos).

1 ’Amd\\wy— Arré\Kwy, “the defender’? (Miiller’s Dor. 11. ch. 6, § 6), who caused
terror to the hostile army, Asch. Sept. c. Theb. 147.

* He was particularly the inventor of the lyre—the original accompaniment of
Choral Poetry. Pind. Pyth. v. 67: (Amé\\wv) reper Te KlOapw didwol re Motcap ols dv
€0&Xy, aroremov ayayow és mpamidas etvoulav.

* “The belief in a fixed system of laws, of which Apollo was the executor, formed
the foundation of all prophecy in his worship.” Miiller, Dor. 1. 8, § 10. The Del-
phian oracle was the regulator of all the Dorian law-systems; hence its injunctions
were called #éuores, or “ordinances.”’ See the authorities in Miiller, 1. 8, § 8.

4 See Varronianus, p. 314; ef. Athen. xiv. p. 628 F: 80ev Kal Swxpdrys & rots
Tommpace Tos KdANoTA Xopevovras aplaTous Pyolv elvar TA TONguLa, Néywv oUTwS"
Oi dé xopots Kd\NcTa Oeods Tindow, Apioror
"Ev trodéuw’
oxeddv yap domep éLorhicla Tis jv H Xopela, K.T.X.
° Miiller thinks (Gotting. Gel. Anz. for 1821, p. 1051) that they were so called,
because they were not so well dressed as the front-row dancers.
§ See Miiller’s Dorians, B. m1. c. 12, § 10; B. 1v. c. 6, § 4. And add to the pas-
sages cited by him, Eurip. Z’road. 2, 3:
év0a Nypjdwy xopol
Kad\dXtorov txyvos €€eNooovcty Todds.
Here. Fur. 967: 68° é&eXlcowy maida klovos KiKXw
Topevua (1. répeva) dewdy modds.

THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION. 29

Thus Herodotus! calls the constitution of Lycurgus, “the order
now established among the Spartans” (Tov vdv KkatecTedta KOo Mov
tots Lraptiuntyot); Clearchus? speaks of the Lacedemonians who
were prostrated in consequence of their having trodden under foot
the most ancient order of their civil polity (0? tov maXaétatov Ths
TONTIKHS KOT MoV ovpratncavTes eEeTpaynricOnoav); and Archi-
damus, in Thucydides®, tells his subjects that their good order (76
evxocpov) is the reason why they are both warlike and wise; and
concludes his harangue to the allied army, when about to invade
Attica, with an enforcement of the same principle‘.

This description of the Chorus may suffice to show, that, being
both regular and stationary, or moving only within the limits of a
particular space, it was distinguished, in the latter respect, from the
marching troop, which was a regular body of men in a state of pro-
gress, and in both respects from the Comus («émos), which was a
tumultuous procession of revellers. We find the earliest descrip-
tion of the stationary Chorus in Homer’s “Shield of Achilles’,’ ~
where, as we shall see presently, the Hyporcheme is intended; and
we have the moving or processional Chorus by the side of the
Comus in Hesiod’s “ Shield of Hercules®.” The regularity of the
Chorus always necessitated a leader (¢€apyos), who was either the
musician or some fugleman among the dancers, who “set the ex-
ample*”’ to the others. Thus in a dirge the chief mourner was said
“to lead off the lament’;” and even the chief player in a game at

E05. 2 Ap. Athen. xv. p. 681 c, ahr Ode

4 11 11: Kécpuov Kal dudaxhy rept ravrds rovovmevor...... évl KooLw xpwuévous
palvecba. This word xécuos appears to be appropriated to dancing rather than to
music: kal yap év épyjce Kal mopela Kaddv mev eboxnuootvn Kal Kédcmos, K.T.A.
Athen. XIv. p. 628 p,

5 Hom. //. Xvut. 590-—606. 6 272—285,

7 Kiister, de Verb. Med. 1. 23, I. 5.

8 The following passages will show the usage of éédpyw:

Iliad xviii. 50: ai dé (Nypnides) dua waoa
Zr7nGea wemdrHyovro’ Oéris 5D EEFpHE ooo.
Ibid. 314: airap ’Axaol

Tlavvixioc IdrpoxXov avecrevdxovro yoarres.
Totoe dé Imdeldns ddwod éFfpxe youo.

Ibid, 604: dolw 6é KuBioTrnrhpe Kar’ avrovds
ModAmjjs €Edpxovres edlvevoy kara péocous.
To which we may add,
Il, XXIV, 720: mapa 6 eloav do.dods

Opivev éEdpxovs oltre crovbersay dodhv

Oi wey dp’ EOpyveov, ert 5 crevdxovro yuvaixes.
With which compare J/. 1. 604; Odyss. XxIv. 60. The simple dpxew occurs in Iliad
xIX. 12. Archilochus, fr. 38, Liebel. Athen. xiv. p. 628 a:

30 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

ball is said apyeoOar orrijs*; whence it will be seen that the
words médecOae and podwn, when used in speaking of the old
Chorus, imply the regular, graceful movements of the dancers, and
the Eumolpids were not singers of hymns, but dancers in the Cho-
rus of Demeter and Dionysus’.

It would appear, then, that music and dancing were the basis of
the religious, political, and military organisation of the Dorian
states; and this alone might induce us to believe that the introduc-
tion of choral poetry into Greece, and the first cultivation of instru-
mental music, is due to them. However, particular proofs are not.
wanting. The strongest of these may be derived from the fact, |
that the Doric dialect is preserved in the lyric poetry of the other
Grecian tribes. We may notice this in the choral portions of any
Attic tragedy. Now it has been sufficiently shown® that the lyric
poetry of the Greeks was an offspring not of the epos, but of the
chorus songs; and if the lyric poetry of the Adolians and Ionians
was always (with the exception perhaps of Corinna’s Beeotian cho-
ruses) written in the Doric dialect, the choral poetry, of which it
was a modification, must have been Dorian also*. Nor can any
argument against this supposition be derived from the fact that the
most celebrated of the early lyric poets were not Dorians; for
choral dances existed among the Cretans long before the time of
the earliest of these poets; and it is no argument against the as-
sumed origin of an art in one country, to say that it attained to

‘Qs Atwvucot’ tivaxros Kkadov é&dpéae pmédos
Otda SiOvpauBov olvw cvyKepavywiels ppévas.
Archilochus, fr. 44, Liebel. Athen. Iv. p. 180 E:
Auros é&dpxwv mpds atdov AéoBiov maijova*
which Miiller, Dov. 11. 8, § 14 (note y), mistranslates. He says: ‘‘there was always
a person named édpxwy who accompanied the song on an instrument, Thus Archi-
lochus,” &c. But é&dpyew wpds a’d\édv means ‘to lead off the Pzean, either by words
or as a dancer, to the accompaniment of the flute played by another person.” See
Eurip. Alcest. 346: mpos AlBuv Xaxeiv addov: so that Toup has rightly introduced mpés
av\év in Athenzeus, p. 447 B (Em. ad Suid. 1. p. 348). Pausan. v. 18, 4, speaking of
the chest of Cypselus, remolyvrar 6 kal d5ovea. Motoat, cal “Amwd\\ww ELapxwv Tijs
@ojs kal ofplow érlypaypa yéyparra,
Aarotéas otros rdx’ dvat éxdepyos ’AmoA\wr,
Mofica 5 dud’ adrov, xapiels xopds, alot KaTadpxet
Sophocl. Vit. p. 2: (Zopoxdjs) weTa& AUpas yuuvds dAniupévos Tots mwatavlfover Tov
éeruixluy €&pxXe.
1 Odyss. v1. tor; cf. Athen. I. p. 20.
2 Miiller, Hist. Lit. Gr. Vol. 1. p. 25.
3 By Miiller, Dor. B. Iv. c. 7, § 11.

4 The weight of this argument will be readily appreciated by the readers of
Niebuhr’s Hist. Rom. 1. p. 82, Engl. Transl.

THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION. on

a higher degree of perfection in another’. With regard to Athens
in particular, it appears to us, that we have in some sort positive
evidence that choruses were not instituted there until the Athenians
had recognized the Dorian oracle at Delphi; for some old Delphian
oracles have come down to us” particularly enjoining these Doric
rites, a command which could hardly have been necessary, had
they existed at Athens from the first.

It must be obvious that so long as the choral music and dancing
of the Dorians were a religious exercise in which the whole popula-
tion took a part, the tunes and figures must have been very simple
and unartificial. A few plain regulative notes on the tetrachord,
and as much concinnity of movement as the public drill-masters
could effect, sufficed for the recitation and performance of Peeans in
Lacedemon, Crete, and Delos. But, as a natural consequence of
the importance attached to music and dancing, in countries where
they formed the basis of religious, political, and military organi-
sation, it was not long before art and genius volunteered their ser-
vices, and improvements in the theory and practice of instrumental
music were eagerly adopted and imported, or cultivated by emulous
harpers in the Dorian states. The /Molian colonists of Lesbos,
from their proximity to the coast of Asia Minor, were among the
first who sought to accommodate the more extensive and varied
harmonies of the Phrygians and Lydians to the uses and require-
ments of the Dorian chorus. Terpander, of Lesbos, who gained the
prize at the Lacedemonian Cameia in B.C. 676%, substituted the
seven-stringed cithara for the old tetrachord; and his contempo-
raries, the Greco-Phrygian Olympus, and the Beeotian. Clonas,
exercised an influence scarcely less important on the flute-music of
the Greeks. A little later, Thaletas, the Cretan, imported into the
choral worship of his own country and Sparta a more impassioned
style of music and dancing, which was intimately connected with
the rhythmical innovations a Terpander and Olympus‘; and the
Lydian Aleman, who was a great poet as well as a great musician,
composed songs for the popular chorus, which may be considered
as the true beginning of lyric poetry. As these improvements

1 See Themistius, Orat. XXv1I. p. 337 A, Harduin.: aX’ oddév tows Kwveu TA Trap’
_ €répos apxhv NaBovra melovos crovd7s map’ &Nows TUyXavew.

2 Apud Demosth. Mid. p. 531, § 15, Buttm.
3 Atheneus, XIV. p. 635 E.
4 Miiller, Hist. Lit. Gr. c. xt. § to

32 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

gradually developed themselves, they necessarily superseded the
ruder efforts of the old crowd of worshippers ; and the poet, as dnuc-
ovpyos, or “ state-workman!,” with his band of trained singers and
dancers, at length executed all the religious functions of the col-
lective population.

The most ancient and genuine species of the Dorian choral song
was the Pean, which was not only practised in the rehearsals of the
market-place, but carried to the actual field of battle. It was so
thoroughly identified with the worship of Apollo, that we cannot

oubt for a moment that its original accompaniment was the harp
(hoppeyé), with which Apollo himself, in the Homeric Hymn, leads
a chorus of Cretans; he dances with noble and lofty steps, and
they follow him, singing the sweet strains of the Iepean®. But as
early as the days of Archilochus the flute had taken the place of
the harp as an accompaniment to the Pan at Lesbos*. That there
was something grave and staid in the original Peean may be con-
cluded from the topics to which it was confined‘; and as late as the
time of Agesilaus it was performed at the mournful feast of the
Hyacinthia®, Whence Plato speaks with disapprobation of the
later practice of mixing up the Pan with the Bacchie Dithyramb’®;
and in general we observe that the Pzean, as devoted to the children
of Leto, is kept separate and distinct from the Dythyramb’, even

1 Od. Xvil. 385:
Ts yap 6 etvov Karel ddNoOev atros éredav
"AdXoyv 7 el uh Tov ot SnuLoepyol éacw
Mayr 7 inripa Kaxayv 7 TéxTova Sovpa&y
: “H cat Oéomev dovddy, 6 Kev Téprpow deldwv ;
2 Hom, Hymn. Apoll. 514 sqq.:
jpxe 8 dpa adr, dvat Adds vids, ’A7r0\Nwy
Pipmiyy &v xelpecow exwy, ayarov KiBapifwr,
Kana cal byl BiBas* of 6€ pjocovres Erovro
Kpijres mpos Wu0h, Kal lnrajov’ devdov
Olol re Kpnrav matdoves.
Cf. Pind. WV. v. 22 sqq.

3 Archiloch. apud Athen, v. p. 180 E.:

Adros éédpxwv mpds atddv AéoBiov mavjova,
above, p. 30, note,

4 The ideal of a Pan is very well given in the first Chorus of the Gdipus
Tyrannus, 151 sqq. Plutarch (p. 389 B) calls the Pean rerayyévyy kal oaddpova
povcay.

5 Xen. Ages. 1. 17: olkade deNOdv els Ta ‘LaxlvOia, Saou érdxOn bd Tov xXopo-
mowd Tov malava TH Oew ouverédet.

8 Legg. Il. p. 700 D.

7 See Pindar, Thren. Fr. 10, 103%, according to the emendations which we have
elsewhere proposed ;

THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION. 33

in those countries where the worship of Bacchus was cultivated
along with that of Apollo, and after the time when the charac-
teristic Dionysian hymn was raised to the dignity of lyric
poetry. ae

From the Dorian Pean three styles of choral dancing developed
themselves at a very early period, and most probably received their
chief improvements under Thaletas in Crete. These were the
Gymnopedic, the Pyrrhic, and the Hyperchematic dances. The
yupvorraioia, or “festival of naked youths,’ was held in great
esteem at Sparta’. The immediate object was the worship of Leto
and her children, and the music was that of the Pean. But an
heroic and tragic character was given to the solemnity by its formal
reference to the victory at Thyrea. The praises of the valiant
Spartans, who fell on that occasion, were always sung at the Gym-
nopedia, and the Exarchus wore the Thyreatic crown?. The ges-
ticulations and steps of the boys amounted to a rhythmical imitation
of the wrestling match and pancration, which is partly implied by
the absence of clothing’. The Gymnopedic dance was considered
as a sort of introduction to the Pyrrhic, just as the exercises of the
Palestra in general were a preparation for military discipline. To
be able to move rapidly in armour was a leading accomplishment of
the Greek hoplite, and we are expressly told that the Pyrrhic,
which was danced by boys in armour, was a rapid dance*. Beyond
this rapidity of motion, it had no characteristic steps; the distinc-
tive movements were. those of the hands, whence it was called a
“manual gesticulation” (yerpovouia), and might be performed by

"Eyre pev xpvoadakdrov Aarods rexéwy dodal
*Tyilou] maidvides*

"Eyre [5é cbyxw]udv Tit Kicood crépavoy
"Ex Ato[yicov perap jardpevar.

1 “Eoprh 6é elres &\Xy Kal al yupvorradlan dd crovd7s Aaxedatmovlos ciciv. Pausan.
WI. TT, 9.

? Athen. xv. p. 678 B: OvpeariKot* ob'rw Kadoivra orépavol Twes mapa Aaxe-
darmovlos, Ws pyot DwoiB.os &v TH repli Ovordy, Yirlvous abrods ddoxwy viv évoudvecbar,
dvras éx powikwy' pépew 8 avbrovs, irduvynua Tijs év Oupéa yevouerys vikyns, Tods TpocTd-
Tas Tay dyoudvev xopav év TH éopri Tavry, bre Kal Tas 'vmvoracdéias émiredovar.
xXopol 3 ect 76 wey edtpocwrwy Taldwy, Td 5’ €& dplorow avopGv, yuuvady dpxoupévey, cat
dddvrwy Oadjrov kal ’"AXkuavos douara, Kal Tods Atoyycodétov Tod Adkwvos masavas.
See Visconti, Mus. Pio-Clement. Tom. 111. p. 74, n. 4.

3 Athen. XIV. p. 6318.

4 Athen. xiv. p.630D. The same is indicated by the Pyrrhic (~~) and Proceleus-
matic (~~~™~) feet, which are attributed to this dance. he latter, to which the
Bie pv6pes refers, is tantamount to the anapest, which is the proper rhythm for
embateria.

D: T..G: 3

34 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

the horsemen as well as by the foot-soldier!. Connected with the
rites of the Curetes in Crete, and of the Dioscuri in Lacedzemon,
the Pyrrhic was danced in later times to the notes of the flute; and
the same was the case with the Castoreum and the embateria. But
we have positive evidence that the lyre was the original accompa-
niment in the Cretan and Spartan marches, and that the flute was
substituted only because its notes were shriller and more piercing?.
The Hyporcheme was, as its name implies*, a dance expressing by
gesticulations the words of the accompanying poem. It had thus,
in effect, two different kinds of leaders. Going back to the earliest
description of this dance, we find that not only is the citharist, who
sits in the middle of the chorus and sings to his lyre while the
youths and maidens dance around him, described as leading off
(eEapyewrv) their worn, or rhythmical steps and gesticulations, but
that there are always two chief dancers, sometimes called ‘ tum-
blers” (ckuBiotnTHpe), by whose active and violent motions the words
of the song are expressed, and the main chorus regulated*. These
leaders of the chorus seem to have been essential to the Hyporcheme,
and particularly to that species of it which was called the “ Crane”’
(yépavos), where they led forward the two horns of a semicircle
until they met on the other side of the altar of Apollo®, The
HHyporcheme originated in Crete, and was thence imported into
Delos, where it seems to have retained its primitive characteristics
even in the days of Lucian®. Though connected originally with
the religious rites of Apollo’, it was subsequently introduced into the
worship of Bacchus by Pratinas*, and into that of Minerva of Iton
by Bacchylides®.

1 This must be the meaning of what Pindar says of Bellerophon and Pegasus,
O. XIII, 86: dvaBas 6 evOds &vorhia yadkwOels raver. Cf. Virg. Georg. III. 115 sqq.:

Frena Pelethronii Lapithe gyrosque dedere
Impositi dorso, atque equitem docuere sub armis
Insultare solo, et gressus glomerare superbos.

2 Miiller, Dov. Book 1v. c. 6, § 6, 7. On the orgiastic nature of the flute-music
see Aristot. Pol. vim. 7, § 9.

3 See Gesner, on Lucian de Saltat, (Tom. v. p. 461, Lehmann).

4 Compare J/. xvuI. 591—606 (Od. 1v. 17—19) with Hymn. Apoll. 182—206.

5 See the passages quoted by Miiller, Dor. 11. 8, § 14, note g.

6 De Saltat. § 6: "Ev Ajdy...7raldwy xopol cuveObvres éx’ atrAG kal KiOdpg ol pév
éxdpevov, UrwpxodvTo 5é ol dpicrot, mpoxpibévres €& alrGv. Ta yotv Tots Xopots ypape-
peva TovTas dopara, Wropxhuara éxadeiro: where ol dpioroe manifestly agree with the
KuB:ornripes, which was another name for particularly active dancers.

7 See Menandr. de Encom. p.27, Heeren: rods mév yap els ’Amwé\\wva matavas Kal
Umropxnuata voulfouer.

8 Athen. p. 617. 9 Fragm. ed. Neue, p. 33.

THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION. 35

We have treated more at length of these three sorts of choral
dances, because each of them had its representative in the dramatic
poetry of a later age. This appears from a curious passage in
Athenus, probably derived from some author of weight!; ‘There
are,” he tells us, “three dances in scenic poetry, the Tragic, the
Comic, and the Satyric; and likewise three in lyric poetry, the
Pyrrhic, the Gymnopedic, and the Hyporchematic; and the Pyrrhic
indeed corresponds to the Satyric, for they are both rapid;” (he
had given just before a reason for the rapidity of the Satyric
dance). “Now the Pyrrhic is considered a military one, for the
dancers are boys in armour; and swiftness is needed in war for
pursuit and flight. But the Gymnopedic dance is similar to the
Tragic which is called emmeleia; both these dances are conspi-
cuously staid and solemn. The Hyporchematic dance coincides in
its peculiarities with the Comic, and they are both full of mer-
riment.”

The Bacchie hymn, which was first raised to the rank of choral
and lyric poetry among the Dorians, was the Dithyramb, which
is regularly opposed to the Pean*. Originally, no doubt, it was
nothing more than a Comus, and one too of the wildest and most
Corybantic character. A crowd of worshippers, under the influence
of wine, danced up to and around the blazing altar of Jupiter.
They were probably led by a flute-player, and accompanied by the
Phrygian tamborins and cymbals, which were used in the Cretan
worship of Bacchus*, The subject of the song was properly the
birth of Bacchus’, but it is not improbable that his subsequent
adventures and escapes may have been occasionally celebrated °;
and it is a reasonable conjecture that the Coryphzus occasionally
assumed the character of the god himself, while the rest of the

1 Athen. p. 630D. He quotes Aristocles, Aristoxenus, and Scamo. With regard
to the Hyporcheme cf. Athen. 21D: 7 5¢ BaévAXecos [Spxnots] itapwrépa* Kal yap
vrdpxnud Te Tovrov diarlbec Bat.

2 Plut. De EI Delphico, p. 593: méoBdav ydp, Aloxvros Pyol, mpére diOvpauBov
ouaprety cbyxowov Avoptow? TO dé [’Arb\NwH] Tacdva TerTayperny Kal cwppova uodcay.
Ibid. p. 594: Tov pev Addov eviavrdy made ypGvrat wepl Tas Ouclas, dpxoudvou be
Xetwadvos éreyelpavres SiOUpauBov, rov 5é madva katamavcavTes Tpeis ujvas dvr’ éxelvov
Todrov KaraxaNobvra Tov Oedv. See also above, p. 32, note 7.

3 Euripides, Bacch. 123—133, distinctly identifies the worship of Bacchus with the
Corybantic adoration of Demeter.

4 Plato, Legg. UI. p. 700B: malwves Erepov, xal d\Xo Acovtcou yéveois, oluac,
5cOvpauBos Neyduevos.

5 This may be inferred from Herod. v. 67: kal 5) pds, 7a wade abrod TpayiKoioe
Xopotot éyéparpov" Tov pev Acdvucov ob Timéwyres, Tov 5é"AdpyoTor.

3—2

36 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

chorus or comus represented his noisy band of thyrsus-bearing
followers!. Whatever opinion we may agree to form respecting
the etymology of the name, it is at least clear, from any justifiable
analysis of the word Av-Ovpapfos, that it was addressed to the
king of the gods?; and Bacchus belonged, as we have already seen,
toa branch of Greek religion which admitted an assumption of his
character on the part of his votaries.

Anion, a celebrated cithara-player (xBap@dos) of Methymna in
Lesbos, who flourished in the days of Stesichorus and Periander,
(7. e. about 600 B.C.) is generally admitted to have been the inventor
of the cyclic chorus (kikdéos yopés), in which the Dithyramb was
danced around the blazing altar by a band of fifty men or boys’,
to a lyric accompaniment. So intimately is Arion connected with
this improvement, that he is called the son of Cycleus. We must
be very careful not to confuse between this invention, or adaptation,
of Arion’s, and the improvements introduced into the older style
of Dithyrambic poetry, some one hundred years later, by Lasos of
Hermione, the teacher of Pindar and the rival of Simonides*, It
is quite clear that the Dithyramb of Lasos gave rise to the style of
poetry which existed under that name for many years, after the full
development of Tragedy and Comedy, and which is always distin-
guished from the dramatic chorus. Instead of passing from the

1 Baechus is called 6 tZapyos by the Chorus of Bacchanalians in Buripic
141), and it seems obvious that the dithyramb must have endeavoured to
Giagos in all its parts.

2 We have elsewhere discussed the etymology of this word at
Cratylus, $§ 317 8qq.) and have endeavoured to show that it is the
Gpiaufios appended to the dative of Zeds; that the termination is
word denoting a dance of people in close order, or a hymn sung y
that the root Gvp = 6p: is the same as that which is found in O6p-005. '
we still adhere. The only doubtful point, as it
the root of Gépcos. Hartung (Classical my VL p. 372
OipayBes with Gbpyfos. If the one were really 0
OipupBos, not Gbpayfes. Of, me fe a ouos, “ea As n

was called rup-Bacia (Jul. Poll. ¥: Pay \
SOvpayfixby), and as the root Oup-, Be
7ipin, turba, from which this rupBacla is

name of the Oipoos was derived from the tum se
&e.) of the Glavos of Bacchus; or Secs aae u.
of the Baechic staff with its accompaniments, aes

® Schol. Pind. OL. xu. 26, Simon. Bpigr, 76:

Zewoplrhov 54 res vibs 'Apurrelins
ibescer’ dvipay Kadi pablbvre
4 Some of the older grammarians were unable to make
Beholiast on Aristophanes (Aves, 1403) says: *Avriwarpos
prhuadl pao Tobs KuKMovs Kopobs ori wparov Mago rév"
* BE) Adsinos poy: _— tov Mnbvpyeiov,

THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION. 37

flute of the Comus to the lyre of the Chorus, it multiplied the ap-
poggiaturas of the flute accompaniment!. Instead of assuming more
and more a dramatic form, it is expressly described as having been
distinguished from Tragedy and Comedy by its expository style,
and by the pre-eminence given to the poet’s own individuality*.
Instead of approximating to the language of ordinary life, it became
more and more turgid, bombastic, affected, and unnatural. Even
Lasos himself indulged in an excess of artificial refinement. He
composed odes, from which the sibilants were studiously excluded ;
and his rhythms were conveyed in prolix metres, which dragged
their slow length along, in full keeping with the pompous phraseo-
logy, which was to the last days of Greek literature regarded as a
leading characteristic of the Dithyramb’. Pindar, the great pupil
of Lasos, speaks with disapprobation of this style of Dithyramb,
which however, his own better example failed to correct: ‘“ For-
merly,” he says, “the Dithyramb crawled along in lengthy rhythms,
and the s was falsified in its utterance*.”’ Again, while the Dithy-
ramh, as reformed by Arion, clung to the antistrophic and epodie
forms introduced into the chorus by his contemporary Tisias, who
derived his better-known surname Stesichorus from the stability
which he thus gave to the movements of his well-taught body of
dancers®, the Dithyramb of Lasus eventually became monostrophie,

1 Plat. Mus. p. 666, Wyttenb.: Adcos 52 6 ‘Epmoveds els rh» SiPupausixiy dywyhy
petacricas rods pv@uods xal rH TSy ald\Gy rorvdwrig KaTraxodovFioas wAeloal Te POSy-
yors kal diefdyupévas xonodueros els merddecw Thy Tpovrdpxoveay Fyaye Movoupy.

2 Plat. de Republ. 111. p. 3940: bre ris roujreds Te Kal uvPodoylas } wey did peper}-
cews Ay early, Gowep od Nevers Tpaywoia Te Kal xwuydia, } 52 50 dwayyeNas adrod rod
wownrod, etpos 3° ay adrhy uddiord wou & diPupdusois.

¥ See Aristoph. Pax, 794—7; Aves, 1373 8qq. Hence diPvpauSwdys signifies
tumid and bombastic. Plato, Craty/. p. 409 ©. . Hipp. Maj. p. 2920. Dionys.
Hal. de adm. vi Dem. p. 1043, 10. Philostrat. p. 21, 6: Adyar day od HPypauswdy,
on which the Scholiast, published by G. I. Bekker (Heidelberg, 1818), says: d:@upay-
Ba&dy cuvPérors dvdpact cenvuropérny xal éexrorwrdras rAdcmact FOKOAAoKEryny” ToLovToe
yap ol RPvpanso: dre diovvelwy reeray dgwpunuévor,

4 Fragm. 47: Uply pév elpre cxyoworévad 7’ doa dbvpdusevr

Kai 7d cay xiSdadov dvOpdrocw ard croudrar.
The adjective cxoworenjs refers to rhythm, as appears from Hermogenes, de Jnvent. Iv.
4 (Vol. m1, p. 158, Walz), who after defining the xouua and the xOdoy says: 7d de
trép Td tpwikdy cXotworeves KéxANTAL XprTWor mpooulors pddiora Kal rats Tray
mpooulwr wepySodais, The second line alludes to the @dai dovyuo: of Lasus: see
Athen. VI. p. 4550.

5 See the explanations given by the grammarians and lexicographers of the pro-
verbial phrases rdvra dxrw, Tpla Xtyorydpov, and oS ra rpla Drycrydspov yeyroonecs.
With regard to the significance of his name, as applicable to the Bacchic Chorus in

. it is worthy of remark that when the Delphic oracle (apud Dem. Mid. p. 531)
establishment of the Dorian form of Dionysiac worship at Athens, it

uses the phrase lerdva: xopér.

38 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

and returned in form to the primitive Comus, in the same proportion
as it reverted to its original mimicry!. Above all, while the Di-
thyramb of Arion, influenced by the sedateness of the Doric muse,
shook off by degrees all remembrances of the drunken frolics in
which it took its rise, the other Dithyramb retained to the end
many of its original characteristics. EZpicharmus, who was a con-
temporary of Lasos, alludes to it in precisely the same manner as
Archilochus, who flourished two hundred years earlier. That
ancient poet says, that “‘he knows how to lead off the Dithyramb,
the beautiful song of Dionysus, when his mind is dizzy with the
thunder of wine’.”” Epicharmus tells us that ‘there is no Dithy-
ramb, if you drink water®.””. And Simonides, the rival of Lasos,
describes the Dithyramb as sung by noisy Bacchanalians crowned
with fillets and chaplets of roses, and bearing the ivy-wreathed
thyrsus*.

Although Arion was a Lesbian, it was in the great Dorian city
of Corinth that he introduced his great choral improvements. In
enumerating the various inventions which were traced to that city,
Pindar asks: ‘‘ Where else did the graces of Bacchus first make
their appearance with the ox-driving Dithyramb?” alluding to
the ox which was sacrificed as a type of the god, who was also
worshipped under this form’. The account which is given of
the specific improvements imported into the Dithyramb by Arion,
though brief, is very distinct; and it is quite possible, from the

1 Aristotle, Probl. x1x. 15, p. 918, Bekker: w@\\ov yap TG udder avdyKn mieto bac

n Tois phuacw* 6d Kal of SiOtpapBo., ered pupntixol éyevovro, ovKért Exovew avTt-
otTpogpous, mpdtepov dé elxor.
2 Above, p. 29, note 5.
3 Apud Athen. p. 628 B:
ov éore SiOipau.Bos, dxx’ Vdwp mlys.
4 Simonides, Frag. 150, Bergk, Anthol. Pal. 11. p. 542:
TloAAdKe 6% pudis “Akapavridos év xopotow “Qpac
’AvwddrvéEav Kiccopdpots él SiOvpayBors
Al Atovvorddes, pirpaoe 6é Kal pidwy dwro.s
Lopav dowdy érxiacay Nurapav eepar,
Ol rév5e Tplroda chlor pdptupa Baxxlov aéO\wv
Ojcav' Kuxvyveds 8° ’Avreyévns édldackey dvdpas.
The student, however, must take care to remember that the Dithyramb never actually
became a Comus after it had once been raised to the dignity of a Chorus. Even
Pindar’s processional songs, though nominally performed by a Comus, were invested
with the dignity of choral poetry, and Comedy itself became at last choral. See note
on Pindar, /ragm. 45, p. 344.
5 Olymp. xtt. 18:
tal Awwvicou mbdev é&épavev
Ziv Bond\dra xadpites SibupduBy ;
See above, p. 17, note 2.

AAVULLUO VWWihsWVlh L40VU VUVINYS UV yy id Lv Udy LY MALAY el tt ass OWN Y
description of this Bacchic chorus as it was exhibited at Corint
the days of Periander.

Of our authorities, the two most explicit are the earliest and
most recent, which stand related to one another as text and «
mentary. Herodotus tells us that ‘“ Arion was the most emt
cithara-player of his time, and that he was the first, as fa
Herodotus knew, who made poems for the Dithyramb, who
a name to these poems, and regularly taught the Chorus; and
he did this at Corinth’.” The lexicographer Suidas gives the s
information, but at greater length, and in such a manner as to §
that Herodotus was by no means his ouly authority. He s
“ Arion, the Methymnean, a lyric poet, the son of Cycleus,
born about the 38th Olympiad. Some have told us that he w
scholar of Aleman. He is said to have been the inventor of
tragic style; and to have been the first to introduce a stand
chorus, and to sing the Dithyramb; and to give a name to 1
was sung by the Chorus; and to introduce Satyrs speakin,
verse.” As these accounts are in strict agreement with one ano’
and with all the scattered and fragmentary notices of Arion w
we meet with elsewhere’, we may conclude that we have he
true tradition, and proceed to interpret it accordingly. It app
then, that the following were the improvements which the
thymnean citharcedus introduced into the Corinthian Dithyra
1. He composed regular poems for this dance*. Previously,
leaders of the wild irregular Comus, which danced the Dithyra
bewailed the sorrows of Bacchus, or commemorated his wonde
birth, in spontaneous effusions accompanied by suitable action
which they trusted to the inspiration of the wine-cup. Thi
the meaning of Aristotle’s assertion that this primitive Trag
was “extempore”’ (avtooyediaotixy 5), and some such view of

1 Herod. 1. 23: "Aplova—édvra xiOapwidy trav Tore édvrwy ovdevds devrepov
5OUpayBov, rpSrov dvOpdsmwv Tay huts Wuev, mojoavra Te Kal dvoudoavra Kal ddd:
&y KoplvAw.

2 Suidas: ’Aplov MyOupwaios, Nupixds, Kukdéws vids, yéyove kara Ti x’ dhupr
rives 6é kal wadnthy’ANkudvos lorépyocay atrév. éypawe bé douara, mpooluca els ér
héyerar 5é Kal TpaytKxod Tpbmov evperis yevér Oat, Kal mpBros xopoy orjoa Kal d.Bvpe
doa kal dvoudoat Td giduevov bd Tod Xopod Kal carvpous eloeveyKely EupeTpa Néyov

8 Dio, 11. p. 101; Phot. Cod. 239, p. 985; Schol. Pind. Ol. xu. 18; &
Aristoph. Aves, 1403.

4 This is the true force of the phrases rotjoa, doa 7d diOVpau Bor,

5 Aristot. Poet. c. iv.

40 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

case 1s necessary to explain Archilochus’ boast that he can play the
part of leader in the Dithyramb when the wine is in his head?; for
this presumes a sudden impulse rather than a premeditated effort.
Arion, however, by composing regular poems to be sung to the
lyre, at once raised the Dithyramb to a literary position, and laid
the foundations of the stately superstructure which was afterwards
erected. 2. He turned the Comus, or moving crowd of worshippers,
into a standing Chorus’ of the same kind as that which gave ‘Stesi-
chorus his surname. In fact, the steps of the altar of Bacchus
became a stage on which lyric poetry in his honour was solemnly
recited, and accompanied by corresponding gesticulations. 3. He
was the inventor of the tragic style (tpayixod tpotov evpeTns).
This means that he introduced a style of music or harmony adapted
to and intended for a chorus of Satyrs*, For the word tpayos,
“ he-goat,” was another name for catupos, the goat-eared attendant
of Bacchus‘; and we have just seen that Suidas specifies the ap-
pearance of satyrs ‘“ discoursing,”’ or holding a sort of dialogue,
in verse, as one of the peculiarities of Arion’s new Dithyramb.
4, He gave a name to what was sung by the Chorus’, What
name? Not d:0vpauPos, for that was the common designation in
the time of Archilochus, some one hundred years before. As Arion
substituted for the riotous Comus a stationary and well-trained
Chorus, that which was sung—the dovd7—could not be a kopwdia
or Comedy ; but, as being the hymn of a Chorus of tpayou or
“satyrs,’ it was naturally termed a tpay@dia®. ‘This name could
‘have nothing to do with the goat, which was the subsequent prize

1 See the lines of Archilochus quoted above, pp. 29, 30.

2 Suidas: yopdv orfica. Schol. Pind.: éornce 5é adrdv [rdv Kixdov xopov]. This

standing chorus nevertheless might perform é£eAvyuol and other evolutions on the
ground to which it was limited. The Chorus, as a whole, was stationary, though the
separate dancers were in motion.

3 On the rpdro, ‘ styles” or ‘‘ harmonies” of Greek music, the student may con-
sult Miiller, Hist. Lit. Gr. 1. p. 152 [202].

4 Hesych.: Tpd-yous* cartpous—éia 7d Tpdywv Sra éxew. LEtym. M.: rpaywodla bre
Ta TONG ol xopol éx cartipwy cuvloravyro, ols Exdouv Tpayous.

5 Herodotus says, dvoudcavra Tov d:0tpayBorv: but Suidas more definitely, dvoudoat
TO GOduevov Ur TOU Xopod.

® It is pretty clear that rpaywdla was the name of a species of lyrical poetry ante-
cedent to, and independent of the Attic drama. See Bockh in the Appendix to this
Chapter. Welcker, Nachtrag, p. 244: ‘‘The lyrical Tragedy was a transition step
between the Dithyramb and the regular drama. It resembled the Dithyramb in re-
presenting by a chorus Dionysian and other myths (hence the Pzans of Xenocritus
were called myths, because they related heroic tales), and differed from it in being
sung to the lyre, and not to the flute.”

THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION. 41

of the early Attic Tragedy; for we are expressly told, that in
Arion’s days the ox was the prize’. Nor could it imply that the
eoat was the object of the song, as if tpay@dos signified a man os
Tpayov aeider®. For, as xuQap@dds means a man who sings to the
cithara, so Tpayedos and cwp@dds denote the singer whose words
are accompanied by the gesticulations or movements of a chorus
of Satyrs, or a comus of revellers. That the form of Doric Chorus,
which Arion first adapted to the Dithyramb, was the Pyrrhic, ap-
pears from what has been stated above*. It was probably not till
the days of Thespis that the Gymnopedic dance appeared as the
Tragic Emmeleia. In Arion’s time the tragic style was still a form
of the Dithyramb, strictly confined to the worship of Bacchus, to
which the poet had been habituated in the early days of his Les-
bian life‘, formally satyric in the habiliments of its performers, and
in every sense a new and important branch of the Dorian lyric
poetry. é

About the time when Arion made these changes in the Dithy-
ramb at Corinth, we read that a practice began to obtain in the
neighbouring city of Sicyon which could not be altogether uncon-
nected with Arion’s “tragic style.” The hero Adrastus was there
honoured with Tragic Choruses. And the tyrant Cleisthenes, for
political reasons, restored these choruses to Bacchus®. The ten-
dency, which was thus checked, shows that the Dithyrambic
Chorus of Arion had proved itself well adapted for the represen-
tation of tragic incidents, and especially of those misfortunes which
were traceable to an evil destiny; for Adrastus was a type of «-¢
unavoidable suffering®, brought down by the unappeasable ven-
geance of heaven; and every reader of the later Greek Drama is
aware that this was a main ingredient in the plots of the more
finished Tragedies, in which the divine Nemesis was always at

1 Athen. p. 456D; Schol. ad Pind. Ol. x11. 18.

2 This is Ritter’s opinion ; ad Arist. Poet. p. 113.

3 It appears too from Aristophanes (Rance, 153) that Kinesias, who was a cele-
brated Dithyrambist, was also renowned for his Pyrrhics.

4 Bihr, ad Herod. l.c.

5 Oi dé Suxvdmor &bPecay peyadworl kdpra tyngv tov “Adpyorov...rd Te dn Adda oi -
Sexvevioe érluwy rov “Adpyorov, kal 5) mpds, Ta wdbea avrod rparyiKxotor xopotor éyé-
patpov' Tov ev Acévucoy ov TiméwyTes, tov 5e”Adpnorov. Krevsbévys 5€ xopods mev TS
Avovisw drédwxe, Thy 5¢ GAA Ovolny TE Medavlrmy’ Tatra mev és “Adpnorér ot me-
moinro. Herod. v. 67.

6 His name, as is well known, indicated as much. See Antimach. p. 71 (apud
Strab. p. 588).

42 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION.

work. There may, therefore, be some foundation for the claims
set up by the Sicyonians’. By transferring the Bacchie Chorus
to the celebration of other heroes, they made a step even beyond
Arion towards the introduction of dramatic poetry properly so
called; and it is very possible that Epigenes of Sicyon may have
been the first of a series of sixteen lyrical dramatists ending with
Thespis?, to whom, as we shall shortly see, we owe the actor’, the
dramatic dialogue, the stage, and the epic elements of the Athenian
Tragedy. )

The only specimens of the Greek choral poetry which have
come down to us complete are a certain number of the Epinician
or triumphal Odes of Pindar, who was born three years after
/Eischylus, who was more than once an honoured guest at Athens
after the establishment there of the tragic drama, and whose inter-
course with Auschylus, in Attica and in Sicily, is attested by more
than one indication of borrowed phraseology. We cannot therefore
conclude the present chapter without endeavouring to ascertain how
far the performance of one of Pindar’s Epinician Odes partook of
a dramatic or histrionic character.

We have already seen, on the authority of Plato, that the melic
poem presumed a direct communication from the poet himself—it
was Ov atayyedlas avtod Tod Trourtod, in other words, it represented
the author of the poem as speaking in his own person, and was
therefore distinguished from the imitative dialogue of dramatic
poetry’. Now the ésvvixcov in particular belonged to the class
of éyx@uta, which by the nature of the case implied a festive meet-
ing® and more than any other form of melic poetry allowed the
bard freely to introduce his own personality. It does not, however,
follow from this that the poet was always present in person, and

1 rpaywolas ebperal uev Dixvayior, TeNeooupyol Sé ’"Arrixol. Themist. Orat. XXVII.
337 B.
"See also Athen. xrv. p- 629 A: "Applov—tyeabal gnow év‘EXikGu maldwv dp-
XNTELS META TTOVdHS Taparibéuevos apxatov émlypayua Tbe
’"Auddrep’, wpxetuav te kal év Midcas éedliacxov
"Avipas, 6 5 atd\nras Av “Avaxos P.aders*
Eliui 6€ Baxxeldas Dexvavios. A pa Oeotor
Tots Xuxv@ve kaddv Todr’ darexetro yépas.
2 Suidas in Oéems,
3 Athen, xIv. p. 6306: ouvésrnxe 5é cal Larupixh waca rolnois 7d madady éx
xopav, ws kal n Tore Tpaywila’ dibrep ovde UroKpiTas ges
. * Plat. Resp. Tit. 3940. Ast interprets admayyeNla as “fea exponendi ratio qua
poeta lyricus utitur qui suis ipse verbis omnia ae suz ipse mentis sensa explicat.”

5 Below, Chapter v.

THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION. 43

took an immediate part in the public performance of his ode. On
the contrary, as the triumphal ode was generally celebrated in the
victor’s native city, and sometimes repeated from time to time
on the anniversary of his success, the poet would more frequently
than otherwise be absent, and if the ode contained any direct
drrayyeria from the author, he must have been represented by the
leader of the chorus, who thus became, to all intents and purposes,
an actor or the exponent of an assumed personality. It is probable
in itself that there was a class of persons, who laid themselves out
for this species of impersonation, and the fact that it was so is
proved by the Orchomenian Inscription (No. 1583), quoted in the
Appendix to this chapter. We find there that a certain Theban
named Nicostratus gained the prize at the Charitesia as cap@dds
in regard to the ézuixa, i.e. not the celebration of the victory, as
Béckh supposes, but the songs composed for that celebration. For
in order to sing the éwixwplav dvépév KdvTav ora, as Pindar calls
it!, it was necessary that there should be a cwp@dos, a leader of the
band, that is, either the poet himself who is mentioned in the
following inscription’, or some professional leader, like this Nicos-
tratus. There is sufficient evidence in Pindar’s odes to prove that
the dzayyedia of the poet himself was thus undertaken by a pro-
fessional representative, who was distinct from the teacher of the
Chorus.

There are two of Pindar’s Epinicia, the sixth Olympian and
the second Isthmian ode, in which the poet directly addresses the
xopodioackados. In the fifth strophe of the former he says*: ‘“‘now
urge your comrades, Auneas, first to sing of Hera Parthenia, and
then to make known whether we truly escape from the old re-
proach—Beotian sow! For you are a true messenger, the des-
patch-staff of the fair-haired Muses, a sweet mixing-cup of loudly
uttered songs. Then tell them to remember Syracuse and Ortygia.”
There is every reason to believe that this ode was sung at Stym-
phalus in Arcadia. Agesias had driven the mule-car himself at
Olympia, otherwise the allusion to his danger‘ would have no
meaning; but the chariot driven by his friend Phintis formed part
of the triumphal procession which accompanied the performance
of the ode, as appears from the address to the charioteer®, The

1 Pyth. x. 6. 21.47: Ta érwixia Kwpwoidy ronrys.
3 vv. 87 sqq. 4 vv. Q—II. 5 vv. 22 sqq.

44 THE TRAGIC CHORUS.—ARION:

“unenvying citizens',” who are represented as taking part in the
song of victory, are of course the Arcadians, tacitly opposed to the
envious Syracusans, who slew Agesias three years after his victory,
and who are implied in the statement that “‘envy impends from
others envying him?.’”’” That Pindar could not have been present
at the Arcadian festival is clear from his calling ASneas ‘‘a messen-
ger’’ (ayyeXos) and “a despatch-staff’’ (cxvradn); and that Auneas
was not the cwue@dos, but merely the yopodidacKanos, is proved from
this address to him. From the words immediately preceding:
“ Theba whose delightful water I will drmk when I weave a varied
strain for warriors®,” it appears that Pindar was at Thebes when
he was meditating another hymn on the Olympic victory of
Agesias, which was to be performed at Syracuse under the auspices
of Hiero; for the dvdpes aiyunrai undoubtedly refer to Agesias,
who is described as distinguished by his military excellences no
less than by his connexion with the prophetic clan of the Iamidee*.
In the other case, where the yopodidacKanos is addressed, namely,
at the end of the second Isthmian ode, although Thrasybulus, the
son of the deceased victor Xenocrates, is accosted in the second
person in the preceding stanzas’, the concluding epode is directed
to the trainer of the choir, Nicasippus, and the poet speaks as
though all that had gone before was a message to be delivered
to Thrasybulus, when Nicasippus next saw him. He says®: “let
him not be prevented by the envious hopes of others from speaking
his father’s praise and publishing these hymns” (the second Isth-
mian and another composed for recitation at Agrigentum), “for I
have not made them to tarry im one place (like a statue, as he says
elsewhere’) but to pass to and fro among men. Communicate (or
impart’) these injunctions, O Nicasippus, when you shall have come
to my respected friend.”

From these passages it appears that the cwp@dos of the Epini-
cian Ode sometimes directly represented the person of the poet.

ly. 7: émixtpoas adbivey acTrav &v imeprais ao.dats.

2¥. 74: w@mos ek 8 d\XNwy Kpéuarar POovedvrwv.

3 vv. 85—87: On8av, Tas éparewdv Vdwp

mlouat, avipdow alxuwarato. méxwy
motxt\ov voy.

We have maintained, in our note on this passage, that wlowac must be future here:
and have compared Isthm. V. 74: low ope Alpkas ayvov vdwp.

Sn A Pan ty Pa £0) 3h Vitek A 3T. 6 vv. 43—48. 7 Nem. V. 1.

8 dmoveuov. The scholiast says it means dvayv@, “read,” as in Soph. Fragm.
‘ : , Ul 3 s
150: od 8 & Opdvoict ypaypdrwv mrixas Exwv a7rovermov.

Pn ee Tae ee Te

ORCHOMENIAN INSCRIPTIONS.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER III.

ORCHOMENIAN INSCRIPTIONS.

1583.

Mvaclyw dpxovtos, aywvo-
Oerlovros Tév Kapirevoiwy
Eddpeos TS Ildvtwvos, Tvd€
} ey \ ,
éevikwoay Ta Xapireiora”

cadmiyxTas
Pirtvos Pilvw ’AGavetos,
i.
Kdpové
Hipwdas Lwxparos OerBetos,
moelTas

Mijctwp Mycropos Pwxatevs,

pawdaFudos
Kpdrwyv KXlwvos OerBeios,
aiNevras
Tlepryévers ‘Hpaxdldao Kougixyves,
avhaF vdos
Aapiveros TAatxw ’Apyios,
KiGapioTas
*Aydoxos ’Ackamcoyérios Aloheds dzd Movplvas,
KiOapaF vdos

Aapdrpios “Auadwiw Aiodeds ad Mouplvas,
TpayaF vdos

*Aokd\amddwpos Tov#éao Tapavrivos,
Kw. F vdos

Nixéarparos Pidosrpdtw OerPeios,
Ta érulkia KwedF vdos

Bilapxos E[i]podé7w Kopwvreds.

1584.
Olde evixwy Tov ayava Tay Xapirjclwv*
caNmioTNs
Mus ’Amro\Nwrlou ’AvTioxeds amd Macadvipou,
Kjpué
Zdtros Zwthou Iddros,
pay@dos

Novuipios Novpnviov ’A@nvaios,
TounTys éTav

*Auwlas Anwoxdéous OnBatos,
avdyris

*AaodbdoTOs *Aro\NOddTOUV Kpyoatos,
avdwodos

46 ORCHOMENIAN INSCRIPTIONS.

‘Pddirmos ‘Podiamou ’Apyetos,
Kiapiorns
Pavias ’Amododwpov Tod Pavlov, Alodevs dd Kvyns,
KLOapwodos
Anunrpios ILappevicxov Karynddos,
Tpaywoos
‘Inmoxparns ’Apioromévovs ‘Pddcos,
K@pLWOOs
KadXlorparos ’"EEakésrov OnBatos,
TonTHsS BaTvpwv
"Apuwlas Anuoxdéovs OnBatos,
NroKperns
Awpddeos Awpobéov Tapayrivos,
TOLNTHS Tpayworwv
LopoxAs Dogokréouvs “AOnvatos,
vmroKpirhs
KaBlpcxos Oeodwpov OnBaios,
TOLNTHS KWLWOLBv
*AdéEavSpos “Apictiwvos ’AOnvatos,
UTOKpLTNs
"Arrados ’ArrdXouv ’AOnvaios.
Olde évikwy Tov veunriv ayova Tov ‘OpLodwiwy*
matoas avd\yTas
AvoxAjs KaddXuu7jrov OnBatos,
matdas nyenovas
Zrparivos Hivikov OnBatos,
dvipas avAnras
Avoxdjs Kaddtunrouv OnBatos,
dvdpas nyeuovas
‘Pddirmos “Podlrmov ’Apyetos,
Tparywoos
‘Immoxparns ’Aptorouévous ‘Pdédu0s,
Kwpwdds
KadNlotparos “Héaxécrov OnBatos,
Th érwlkia Kwumdidy tToinris
*AéEavdpos ’Aptatiwvos ’AOnvaios.

These two Inscriptions were formerly in a chapel of the Virgin at Orchomenus
in Beotia. The stones are now removed. The first Inscription is written in Beeotic,
and is supposed by Béckh to be of older date than Olymp. 145 (B.c, 220).

To the foregoing Inscriptions we will add a third; a Thespian Inscription, engraved
in the later age of the Roman emperors, which relates to the same subject; and
then give the inferences which Béckh has drawn from these three interesting ago-
nistic monuments.

1585.
"Ayala TUX.
’Evelkwy ért Pdaovly Tavielyy dywvoberotvre Moved, é[1’]
dpxovrt Mytpoddpy 7B ’Ov[ nlorpdpov"
TowntTns mpocodtov

ORCHOMENIAN INSCRIPTIONS. 47

Evyudpwv ’AdeEdvdpou Oeamieds
kal ’Avripdv ’AOnvaios,
Knpve
Tloumrnios Zwoluwov Oecmie’s,
oaNmiKTas
Zdoysos ’Extxrov Onfatos,
éyxkwuoypdgos els tov A’toxpdropa
Tlovmduos ’Avrdvios Magéimos Ne[wxopetrns,
éyx@uov els Movoas
Tlovaduos ’Avrévios Mdéuyuos Ne[w]xopelrns,
mounrhs els Tov A’ToKpdropa
Aluidwos ’Emixrnros Koptyétos,
twoinua els Tas Movoas
Aapéverxos Aduwvos Oeomcevs,
paywdds
Ev’ruxiavds Koplvécos,
mubavias
Pd Bios "Avriaxds Kopivécos,
K[c]Papiocras
Ocbdwpos Ocoddrov Neckoundev’s
[kwpwdds marads kwppdlas]
Tpaywoos madawds Tpaywolas
*Amo\Adyios “Amro\Awvlov ’Aarévd.os,
TOLNTHS KaWTS Kwuwdlas
’Avripdv ’ AOnvaios,
UroxpiThs Kawhs Kwpwodlas
*Avripay >AOnvatos,
mon[Tn|s Kawhs tpayyolas
Apréuwy ’Apréuwvos ’AOnvatos,
bmokpithns Kawns Tpaywolas
*Ayabnuepos Iv@oxdéous "AOnvatos,
Xopavrns
"Oowos Ilepyaunvds,
veapwoos
A, Kndiwos ’AxAXAeds KoplvAios,
carupoypagos
M. Aiuldros ‘T7rr10s,
* Gua mavTwv
Eipdpwv ’AdeEdvSpou Oeomeeds.

These Inscriptions were first printed by Bockh at the end of bis treatise on the
Public Economy of Athens. We subjoin some of the remarks which he there makes
upon them (IIter Band, p. 361 fol.).

“« Before I leave these two Inscriptions, I may be permitted to make a few remarks
on the games mentioned in them, We find in both, first of all, trumpeters and a

“ © Haud dubie formule sententia est, hune inter omnes victores esse prestantissi-
mum judicatum, victorem inter victores ; unde ultimo loco scriptus est.”—Bockh in loc.

48 ORCHOMENIAN INSCRIPTIONS.

herald, who began the games: their art was doubtless an object of contest in most
sacred games, and the heralds in particular contended with one another in the gymnic
games (Cicero, Fam. Vv. 12); which may perhaps have been the principal reason why
the ancients had trumpeters and heralds, whom no one of the present day could have
matched in strength of voice. Comp. Pollux, Iv. 86—g92; Athen. X. p. 415 F, seqq. ;
Aflian, V. H.1. 26. These are followed by the Epic poet, together with the Rhap-
sodist who recited his poem: then we have the flute-player and harper with the
persons who sang to these instruments respectively. Next come, in both Inscriptions,
Tragedians and Comedians. At the new Charitesia, however, three additional dra-
matic games are mentioned: xoinrhs Lartpwv and vroKpiry}s, TomrTys Tpaywdiay and
bmoKpiThs, Tounrhs KwuwoiGv and broxpirjs. At the Homoloia in the second Inserip-
tion, Tragedians and Comedians occur, and for the celebration of the victory (ra
érwixia) another Comedy, but without actors. It is sufficiently clear from this, that
when merely Tragedians and Comedians are mentioned, without actors, as is so often
the case in authors and Inscriptions, we are not to understand a play, but only a
song: if, however, a Play is to be signified, this must first be determined by some
particular addition. As soon as an actor (joxpiT7s) is mentioned, we understand by
Tragedy and Comedy a dramatic entertainment. For a long time Tragedians and
Comedians alone appeared in the Charitesia at Orchomenus, and it is only in later
times that we find there all the three kinds of dramatic representations, when the
theatre of Athens had extended its influence on all sides; nevertheless, even then the
tragic and comic poets are Athenians, and only the satyrical poet a Theban. But
Tragedians and Comedians, as lyric bards, were to be found everywhere from the
most ancient times. This has not been properly attended to, and many passages
in ancient writers have consequently been considered as enigmatical or suspicious.
In the list of Pindar’s Works, given by Suidas, we have seventeen dpduara rpayekd.
I have no doubt that Pindar wrote Tragedies, but they were lyric poems, and not
Dramas. With this remark, we recognize at once what is true or false in this account.
Simonides of Ceos is said by the Scholiast on Aristophanes, by Suidas and Eudocia,
to have written Tragedies, which Van Goens (p. 51) doubts; but what objection can
be raised to this statement, if we only understand in it lyrical and not dramatic
Tragedies? Whether the Tragedies of the younger Empedocles (see Suidas in "Eyzre-
SoxAjjs, comp. Sturz, Hmpedecl. p. 86, seqq., where, however, there are all sorts of
errors) were just such Derian lyric Tragedies, or real dramatic exhibitions, I leave
undecided. Arion seems to have been considered as the inventor of this lyric goat-
song, since the introduction of the tragic manner (rpayixds Tpé70s) is ascribed to this
Dithyrambic poet, although he is said to have added satyrs to the chorus as acting
persons (comp. Fabric. B. Gr. Vol. 11. p. 286, Harles’ edition). It is admitted that
the Drama grew out of a lyric entertainment, and was formed from the chorus; but it
is not so generally known that among the Dorians and A®olians a lyric Tragedy and
Comedy existed before, and along with the dramatic, as a distinct species, but people
usually referred merely to the rude lyrical beginnings in the Festal games. Thus
tragedies before the time of Thespis remained a thorn in the eyes of critics, which it
was needful to have taken out; and Bentley's services (Opuse. p. 276) in this respect
have been very highly estimated. But let not us be deceived by it. The Pelopon-
nesians justly claimed Tragedy as their property (Aristot. Poet. 111.): its invention
and completion as a lyrical entertainment belongs undoubtedly to the Sicyonians,
whose Tragedies are mentioned by Herodotus (v. 67, comp. Themist. x1x. p. 487):
on which account the invention of Comedy also is sometimes attributed to the Sicyo-
enians (Orest. Athol. Part 11. p. 328, 326); and Thespis may very well have been

ORCHOMENIAN INSCRIPTIONS. 49

the sixteenth from the lyric Tragedian, Epigenes (Suidas in Oéoms and ovdév mpds
Atéyucov). Aristocles, in his book about the choruses, said very well (Athen. XIv.
6306): Suveorjxe dé xal carupexh maoa molnois Torahady €x Xopav, ws Kal 4 TOTE
Tpaywola* Sidmep ovdé broKpiras elyov. Just so Diogenes (III. 56) relates, certainly not
out of his own learning, that before Thespis the chorus alone played in Tragedy
(Stedpaudrife). This Tragedy, consisting of chorus only, was brought to perfection in
very early times, and before the people of Attica, to whom alone the dramatic Tragedy
belongs, had appropriated the Drama to themselves: of course only romancers, like
the author of the Minos, or dialogue of law, have placed the latter far above Thespis ;
a position against which I have expressed my opinion on a former occasion (G7. Trag.
Princip. p. 254). All that I have said is equally applicable to Comedy: in our
Inscriptions we find a lyrical Comedy before the dramatical at Orchomenus; and
lower down, the dramatical Comedy is introduced, as from Attica, along with which
an actor is mentioned: the former was the old peculiarity of the Dorians and Aolians,
among whom lyric poetry for the most part obtained its completion. Even if we pass
over Epicharmus, and the traces of a lyric Comedy in the religious usages of Epidaurus
and Aigina (Herod. v. 83), the Dorians, and especially the Megarians, might still
have had well-founded claims to the invention of Comedy, which, according to Ari-
stotle, they made good. Besides, the view which we have taken of the lyrical Comedy
sufficiently proves that the name is derived, not from xwuy, but from the merry K@mos:
such a one took place at the celebration of the victory, and consequently we find in
our Inscriptions ra émwixia kwuaFvdds, and ra éruixia Kwpwdudv months, who is
certainly in this place a dramatic Comedian, Alexander of Athens. We cannot, how-
ever, call Pindar’s songs of victory old Comedies; and the greater is the distinction
between the lyric and the dramatic Comedy, the less entitled are we to draw, from
this view, any conclusions in favour of the opinion that the Pindarie poems were
represented with corresponding mimicry.” A

Béckh has reprinted these Inscriptions in his Corpus Inscriptionum, Tom. 1,
pp- 763—7, with some additional remarks in defence of his view from the objections
of Lobeck and Hermann,

D. T. G. 4.

CHAPTER IV.

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

C'est surtout dans la Tragédie antique, que VEpopée ressort de partout. Elle monte sur
la scene Grecque sans rien perdre en quelque sorte de ses proportions gigantesques et
démesurées. Ce que chantaient les rhapsodes, les acteurs le déclament. Voila tout.

Victor Hueco,

N addition to the choruses, which, together with the accom-
panying lyrical poetry, we have referred to the Dorians,
another species of entertainment had existed in Greece from the
very earliest times, which we may consider as peculiar to the
Tonian race; for it was in the Ionian colonies that it first sprang
up. ‘This was the recitation of poems by wandering minstrels,
called rhapsodes (fayrwdot); a name probably derived from the
esacus', a staff (paBdos) or branch (épvos)* of laurel or myrtle,
which was the symbol of their office. Seated in some conspicuous
situation, and holding this staff in the right hand, the rhapsodes
chanted in slow recitativo, and either with or without a musical
accompaniment*, larger or smaller portions of the national epic
poetry, which,-as is well known, took its rise in the Ionian states;
and, in days when readers were few, and books fewer, were well-
nigh the sole depositories of the literature of their country.

1 Hesych.: alcaxos. 6 ris dapvns k\ddos dy Karéxovres Uuvovy Tods Beov’s. Plutarch,
Sympos. p. 615: “Hidov Gdnv rod Ocol—Exdorw pupalyyns 5douevns jv” Acakov, olwat did
70 déew rov de&duevov, éxddouv. Welcker has established most clearly (Ep. Cyel.
p- 364) that paywods is another form of pamicwdds=paBdwids. Comp. xpucbp-par-ts,
B-paB-evs, and pam-ifer0a, as applied to Homer by Diog. Laert. (1x. 1).

2 Hence they were also called dpyvwdol, i.e. épywool.

3 It is difficult to determine the degree of musical accompaniment which the
rhapsodes admitted; the rhapsode, as such, could hardly have accompanied himself,
as one of his hands would be occupied by his rod. We think Wachsmuth is hardly
justified in calling (Hellen. Alterth. 1. 2, 389) Stesandrus, who sang the Homeric
battles to the cithara at Delphi, a rhapsode (Athen. xiv. p. 6384). Terpander was
the first who set the Homeric Poems to regular tunes (see Miiller’s Dor. 1v. 7, § 11).
On the recitation of the rhapsodists in general, the reader would do well to consult
Welcker, Ep. Cycl. pp. 338 fol.; Grote, Hist. Gr. Vol. 11. pp. 184 foll.

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. 51

Their recitations, however, were not long confined to the Epos.
All poetry was equally intended for the ear, and nothing was
written but in metre: hence the Muses were appropriately called
the children of Memory. Now, the Epos was soon succeeded, but
not displaced, by the gnomic and didactic poetry of Hesiod, which,
as has been justly observed, was an ornamental appendage of the
older form of poetry’. These poems therefore were recited in the
same way as the Epos’, and Hesiod himself was a rhapsode*. If
the Margites, in its original form, belonged to the epic period of
Greek poetry, it cannot be doubted that this humorous poem was
also communicated to the public by means of recitation. The
Epos of Homer, with not a little borrowed from the sententious
poetry of Hesiod, formed the basis of the tragic dialogue; and in
the same way the Margites contained within itself the germs of
Comedy. ‘The change of metre, which alone rendered the transi-
tion to the other forms more simple and easy, is universally attri-
buted to the prolific genius of ARCHILOCHUS, one of the greatest
names in the history of ancient literature. This truly original poet
formed the double rhythm of the trochee from the equal rhythm of
the dactyl, and used this metre partly in combination with dactyls,
and partly in dipodie of its own, which were considered as ulti-
mately equivalent to the dactylic number*. He soon proved that
his new verses were lighter and more varied than the old heroic
hexameters, and employed them for nearly equivalent purposes.
At the same time, he formed the inverse double rhythm of the
iambic from the anapzest, or inverted dactyl, which was the natural
measure of the march, and was probably used from very early days
in the songs of the processional comus’. Here again he had an
admirable vehicle for the violent satire, in which he indulged, and
which found its best justification in the scurrilities and outrageous
personalities that were bandied to and fro at the feasts of Demeter

= Wachsmuth, Hellen. Alterthumsk. 11. 2, p. 391.

2 Plato, Legg. 11. p. 658.

3 Pausan. IX. 30, 3: Ka@frar dé Kal ‘Holodos xtOdpay ém rots yovacw exwy, oddév TL
olketoy “Howdy popnua’ Sha yap 5h kal c& adrav réy éwGy Sri emi pdBdou Sdgdyys Foev.
Hesiod could not play on the lyre, x. 7, 2: Aéyerae 6€ Kal ‘Hoiodov dme\abjvac Tod
aywvloparos dre od KiOaplfew ouod TH Od Sedidaypnevor.

4 It is expressly testified by Aristot. Rhet. ur. 1, § 9, that the tragic poets passed

from the trochaic to the iambic verse, the former having been the original metre in
dramatic poetry.

® See Donaldson’s Greek Grammar, 647, 651, 656.

52 THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

in his native island of Paros', and paved the way for the coarse
banter of the old Comedy at Athens. The iambic verse, however,
was very soon transferred from personal to general satire, from the
invectives of the Margites, and from the fierce lampoons of Archilo-
chus, to the more sweeping censures and more sententious generali-
ties of gnomic and didactic poetry. Simonides of Amorgus, who
flourished but a little later than Archilochus*, used the iambic
metre in the discussion of subjects little differing from those in
which Hesiod delighted. For example, his general animadver-
sions on the female sex are almost anticipated by the humorous
indignation of the Theogony*. But in other passages he approaches
to the sententious gravity of the later tragedians. Thus, his reflec-
tions on the uncertainty of human life might be taken for a speech
from a lost tragedy, if the dialect were not inconsistent with such
a supposition*, And the same remark is still more applicable to
some of the trochaics and iambics of Solon, who lived to witness
the first beginnings of Tragedy. Now all this iambic and trochaic
poetry was written for rhapsodical recitation: for though we must
allow (as even the advocates of the Wolfian hypothesis are willing
to admit’) that the poems of Archilochus were committed to writ-
ing, it cannot be denied that the means of multiplying manuscripts
in his time must have been exceedingly scanty; and that, if his
opportunities of becoming known had been limited to the number
of his readers, he could hardly have acquired his great reputation
as a poet. We must, therefore, conclude that his poems, and those
of Simonides, were promulgated by recitation; and as such of them
as were Written in iambies would not be sufficiently diversified

1 Miiller, Hist. Litt. Gr. c. Xt. § 5, p. 132.

2 Archilochus is first heard of in the year 708 B.c. (Clinton, 7. H. 1. p. 175), and
Simonides the elder is placed by Suidas 490 years after the Trojan era (B.C. 693. See
Rhein. Mus, for 1835, p. 356). It is interesting to observe how the poetry of the
colonists in Asia Minor seems to have crept across, step by step, to Attica and other
parts of old Greece. Homer represents the greatest bard and rhapsode of the Homeric
confraternity in Chios; Hesiod was an Adolian of Cyme; Arion a Lesbian; and the
isles of Paros, Amorgos, and Ceos produced Archilochus and the two Simonides’.

3 Cf. Hesiod, Theog. 591 sqq. Simonides of Amorgos, Fragm. 6, Bergk. The
5th fragment of Simonides, quoted by Clemens Alex. Strom. VI. p. 744:

Tuvackds obdév xpnw’ avnp dnlferac
"EoAN7js diwewov ovde plytov Kakhs*
is merely a repetition in Iambics of what Hesiod had previously written in Hexameters
(Op. et D, 700):
Ov péev ydp Te yuvaikds dvhnp Anifer’ dewwov
Ths ayabhs, rhs 6’ atre Kakhs ov ply.ov d)dXo.
* Simonid. Fr. 1. 5 Wolf, Proleg. § 17.

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. 5d

in tone and rhythm to form a musical entertainment, we may
presume that the recitation of their pieces, even if they were
monologues, must have been a near approach to theatric decla-
mation.

Fortunately we are not without some evidence for this view
of the case. We learn from Clearchus’, that ‘‘ Simonides, the
Zacynthian, recited (épparyreder) some of the poems of Archilochus,
sitting on an arm-chair in the theatres;’’ and this is stated still
more distinctly in a quotation from Lysanias which immediately
follows: he tells us that “ Mnasion, the rhapsode, in the public
exhibitions acted some of the iambies of Simonides” (év tats
SelEeou THY Lywwvidov twas tauBov broxpivecOar’). Solon, too,
who lived many years after these two poets, and was also a
gnomic poet and a writer of iambics, on one occasion Gommitted
to memory some of his own elegiacs, and recited them from the
herald’s bema*. It is exceedingly probable, though we have
no evidence of the fact, that the gnomes of Theognis were also
recited.

The rhapsodes having many opportunities of practising their
art, and being on many occasions welcome and expected guests,
their calling became a trade, and probably, like that of the Persian
story-tellers, a very profitable one. Consequently their numbers
increased, till on great occasions many of them were sure to be
present, and different parts were assigned to them, which they
recited alternately and with great emulation: by this means the
audience were sometimes gratified by the recitation of a whole
poem at a single feast*. In the case of an epic poem, like the Iliad,
this was at once a near approach to the theatrical dialogue; for if
one rhapsode recited the speech of Achilles in the first book of that
poem, and another that of Agamemnon, we may be sure they did
their parts with all the action of stage-players.

1 Athen. XIV. p. 6200.

° This word is very often used of the rhapsode. For example, we have in Arist.
Rhet. W1. 1, § 3: Kal yap els riv rpayixhy Kal pawwdiay dye mapHrOe (H brdxprots)*
brexpivovTo yap avrot Tas Tpaywodlas ol mornral 7d mpdrov. See Wolf, Prolegom.
p- cxvi; Heyne, Lxcwrsus, 111. 2. It is also applied to the recitation of the Ionic
prose of Herodotus, which may be considered as a still more modern form of the
Epos. Athen. Xiv. p. 629 D: “Idowy 5° & rpirw mepl r&v ’AdeEdvSpou iepSv ev ’ANeE-
avopela pyoi &v TH meyddw Oedtpw broxpivacbac ‘Hynolay rov kwuwddoy Ta ‘Hpoddtov.

3 Plutarch, Solon, vir. 82.

4 Plato, Hipparch. p. 228: ‘Immdpxw, Os....7a ‘Opnpou éry...qvdyKace Tovs payw-
Sods mavabnvaios €& bmrodnWews epecis adra diévac worep vov rt ovrot Tootow. Com-
pare Diog. Laert. I. 57, and Suidas v. tzrofoX7.

54 THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

With regard to the old iambic poems we may remark, that they
are often addressed in the second person singular. We venture
from this to conjecture, and it is only a conjecture, that these frag-
ments were taken from speeches forming parts of moral dialogues,
like the mimes of Sophron, from which Plato borrowed the form of
his dialogues’; for on the supposition that they were recited, we
have no other way of accounting for the fact.

At all events, it is quite certain, that these old iambic poems
were the models which the Athenian tragedians proposed to them-
selves for their dialogues*. They were written in the same metre,
the same moral tone pervaded both, and, in many instances, the
dramatists have borrowed not only the ideas but the very words of
their predecessors*, ‘The rhapsode was not only the forerunner of
the actor, ‘but he was himself an actor (vzroxperys*). If, therefore,

1 Plato is said to have had Sophron under his pillow when he died. Sophron—
mimorum quidem scriptor, sed quem Plato adeo probavit ut suppositos capiti libros
ejus cum moreretur habuisse tradatur. Quintil. 1. 10, 17. See Spalding’s note.

2 This is expressly stated by Plutarch, de Musicd, Tom. x. p. 680: é7t dé r&v
lapBetwy To TH pev NéyecOar Tapa Thy Kpotow, Ta 5é d5ecOar’ Apxtroxdv pact KaradetEat,
60’ otrw xpjnoacba Tols Tpayixo’s. Do not the first words apply to a rhythmical
recitation by the exarchus, followed by a musical performance by the chorus?

3 Whole pages might be filled with the plagiarisms of the Attic tragedians from
even the small remains of the gnomic poets. The following are a few of the most
striking.

Archiloch. p. 30, 1. 1, Liebel:

xpnudrwv deNrrov ovdév éaTwv, ovd’ amrwmoror"
is repeated by Soph. Antig. 386:
dvak, Bporotaw ovdév éor’ darwmorov.
Asch. Eumen. 603:
Ta TetoT’ dpelvor’ etippoow Sedeymevn’
from Theognis, v. 762 (p. 52, Welcker):
ao’ evar kal déivov’ ebppova Ovpdy éxovras.
Zasch. Agam. 36:
Ta 0 ida oty@: Bots ert yarns péyas”
from Theognis, 651, Welcker: .
Bods por érl yAdooens Kparep@ rodl Nak émiBalvuv
toxee Kwrih\ew Kalrep émisTdmevov.
Soph. Antig. 666:
Tovée [dpxovros| xp Kew
Kal ouixpa kal dtkaa kal tavavria’
(i.e. meydNa Kal dédcca), from Solon’s well-known line:
*Apx@v dove kal dikaca Kdécxa, as it ought to be read,

4 When Aristotle says (2het, 111. 1): els Thy tpayikhy Kal paywodlay dye mapnGev
(7 bréxpiots), bwexplvovTo yap airol Tas Tpaywdlas of woinral 7d mprov, he evidently
means by the word tréxpiots the assumption of the poet’s person by another; which
we conceive to have been the original, as it is the derived, meaning of the word.

Compare wrépxynua, &e. We think it more*than probable that the names of the actors,
mowraywvlarns, &c. were derived froin the names of the rhapsudes who recited in

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. 55

the difference between the lyric Tragedy of the Dorians and the
regular Tragedy of the Athenians consisted in this, that the one
had actors (v7roxpitai) and the other had none, we must look for
the origin of the complete and perfect Attic drama in the union of
the rhapsodes with the Bacchie chorus. ,

There can be little doubt that the worship of Bacchus was
introduced into Attica at a very early period’; indeed it was
probably the religion of the oldest inhabitants, who, on the invasion
of the country by the Ionians, were reduced, like the native
Laconians, to the inferior situation of wepioucor, and cultivated the
soil for their conquerors. Like all other Pelasgians they were
naturally inclined to a country life, and this perhaps may account
for the elementary nature of their religion, which with its votaries
was thrown aside and despised by the ruling caste. In the quad-
ripartite division of the people of Attica the old inhabitants formed
the tribe of the A%gicores or goatherds, who worshipped Dionysus
with the sacrifice of goats. But though they were at first kept
in a state of inferiority and subjection, they eventually rose to an
equality with the other inhabitants of the country. There are
very many Attic legends which point to the original contempt for
the goatherd’s religion, and its subsequent adoption by the other
tribes. This is indicated by the freedom of slaves at the Dionysian
festivals, by the reference of the origin of the religion to the town
Eleutheree, by the marriage of the King Archon’s wife to Bac-
chus*; and we may perhaps discover traces of a difference of
castes in the story of Orestes at the Anthesteria. It was natural,
therefore, that the AZgicores, when they had obtained their free-
dom from political disabilities, should ascribe their deliverance to
their tutelary god, whom they therefore called "EXevOepos: and in
later times, when all the inhabitants of Attica were on a footing of
equality, the god Bacchus was still looked upon as the favourer of
the commonalty, and as the patron of democracy.
succession (éf daroAnPews) in the paywdav dyves. See Pseudoplat. Hipparch. p. 228,

and the other passages quoted by Welcker, Zp. Cycl. pp. 371 fol.

1 On the early worship of Bacchus in Attica see Welcker’s Nachtrag, pp. 194 fol.
and Phil, Mus. 11. pp. 299—307.

2 kal avtn ) yurh dbyiy @Ove Ta Gppynra lepa wrép THs wédews, Kal eldev a od
Tporncey avtiy opav Eévny oticav, kal ro.at’Tyn otca eloHOev of oddels dddos AOnvalwy
TocovTwy dvrww elogpxerat aN’ H Tod Baciiéws yur}, eEdpxwoé Te Tas yepaipas Tas
urnperotoas Tots iepots, €£e560n 5€ TG Acovdcw yuvy, expate 5é brép rhs wbdews
Ta Tdtpia Ta pds Tos Geo’s, TOAAA Kal dyia Kal dwdpinra. Pseud. Demosth. in Neer.
pp. 1369—70. Above, p. 19.

o6 THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

As we have before remarked, it was not till the Athenians had
recognized the supremacy of the Delphian oracle, that the Dorian
choral worship was introduced into Attica, and it was then applied
to the old Dionysian religion of the country with the sanction of
the Pythian priestess, as appears from the oracle which we have
quoted above, and from the legend in Pausanias, that the Delphian
oracle assisted Pegasus in transferring the worship of Bacchus from
Eleuthere to Athens’. Consequently the cyclic chorus would not
be long in finding its way into a country so predisposed for its
reception as Attica certainly was; and there is every reason to
believe that the Dorian lyric drama, perhaps with certain modifi-
cations, accompanied its parent ®.

The recitations by rhapsodes were a peculiarly Ionian entertain-
ment, and therefore, no doubt, were common in Attica from the
very earliest times. At Brauron, in particular, we are told that
the Hiad was chanted by rhapsodes*. Now the Brauronia was a
festival of Bacchus, and a particularly boisterous one, if we may
believe Aristophanes’, To this festival we refer the passage of
Clearchus, quoted by Atheneus®, in which it is stated that the
rhapsodes came forward in succession, and recited in honour of
Bacchus. By a combination of these particulars, we can at once
establish a connexion between the worship of Bacchus and the
rhapsodic recitations. Before, however, we consider the important
inferences which may be derived from these facts, we must enter a
little into the state of affairs in Attica at the time when the Thes-
pian Tragedy arose.

The early political dissensions at Athens were, like those be-
tween the populus and the plebs in the olden times of Roman
history, the consequences of an attempt on the part of the inferior

11, 2, 5: sweddBero dé of cal rd &y AeXqots parretor.

2 It seems that the oscilla on the trees referred to the hanging of Erigone, which
probably formed the subject of a standing drama with mimic dances like the Sicyonian
Tragedies, with which the dramas of Epigenes were connected. Welck. Nachtrag,
D224:

3 Hesych.: Bpavpwrlos. ri “Idudda oor paywdot ev Bpavpart ths Artikfs. Kat
Bpavpwvia éoprh “Apréurdc Bpavpwwla dyerar xal Overa alg. Does this mention of the
sacrifice of a goat point to the rites of the Aigicores?

4 Pax, 874, and Schol.

° At the beginning of the Seventh Book, p. 275B: Payjora, of 5€ Paynovoréora
Mpocayopevover Ti EopTHy. €&é\uTre O€ abry, Kabdiep T&v pawwdav, nv Hyov KaTa Thy
Tay Atovucioy' ev W mapldvTes ExaoTo. TH Oe@ oloy Tiywhy ameTé\ovy Thy pawwolav.
Welcker reads éxdoty Tov OeSv, and takes quite a different view of this passage,
except so far as he agrees with us in referring it to the Brauronia (Zp. Cyel. p. 391).

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. 57

orders in an aristocracy of conquest’ to shake off their civil dis-
abilities, and to put themselves upon an equality with their more
favoured fellow-citizens. Solon had in part effected this by taking
from the Eupatrids some of their exclusive privileges, and esta-
blishing a democracy in the place of the aristocracy. At this time,
Athens was divided into three parties; the Ieévazov, or the landed
aristocracy of the interior; the. apandou, the people dwelling on
the coast on both sides of Cape Sunium; and the Acaxpvos or “Trrep-
axpwot, the highlanders who inhabited the north-eastern district
of Attica’. The first party were for an oligarchy, the last for
a démocracy, and the second for a mixture of the two forms of
government®., The head of the demoeratical faction was Pisistratus,
the son of Hippocrates, of the family of the Codrids, and related
to Solon: he was born at Philaide, near Brauron, and therefore
was by birth a Diacrian. Having obtained by an artifice the sovran
power at Athens, he was expelled by a coalition of the other two
factions. After a short time, however, Megacles, the leader of the
Paralians, being harassed (eptedavvopevos*) by the aristocratic
faction, recalled Pisistratus and gave him his daughter in marriage.
The manner of his return is of the greatest importance in reference
to our present object. “ There was a woman,” says Herodotus,
“of the Peanian deme, whose name was Phya: she was nearly
four cubits in stature, and was in other respects comely to look
upon. Having equipped this woman in a complete suit of armour,
they placed her in a chariot, and having taught her beforehand how
to act her part in the most dignified manner possible («at mpodé-
Eavtes oxnpa olov te emedre evTrperréotatov dpaiverOat Exovea’),
they drove to the city.” He adds, that they sent heralds before
her, who, when they got to Athens, told the people to receive with
good-will Pisistratus, whom Athena herself honoured above all

1 See Arnold’s Thucydides, Vol. I. p. 620. We think the fact that one of the

classes in Attica was called the ‘‘ Hopletes,” points to a conquest of Attica in remote
times by the [onians.

2 Herod. 1. §9: craciafdvrwv Trav mapddAwy Kal rev ex Tod mediov “AOnvaiwy...TeV
Umepakpiwy mpoords.

3 Plutarch, Sol. x1tt. p. 85: qv yap Td mev Tov Acaxplov yévos SnuoxpariKwrepor,
ddvyapxexwsratov dé 7d T&v Tediéwr, Tpiroe 5€é of Idpador wécov Twa Kal meulypevor
alpovuevor wohitelas Tpdrov. Comp. Arnold’s note on Thucyd, 1. 59.

4 Herod. 1. 60.

> See the passages quoted by Ruhnken on Timeus, sub v. oxnuaresopevos (pp. 245—
6), to which add Plat. Resp. p. 577A: é€xmdjrrerac bro THs TeV TUpAVYLK@Y TpooTd-
cews qv mpos Tods ew oxnmarifovra...€v ols uddtora yupvos dy dpOeln THS Tpa-
YiKS TKEUTS.

58 THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

men, and was bringing back from exile to her own Acropolis. Now
we must recollect who were the parties to this proceeding. In the
first place, we have Megacles, an Alemzonid, and therefore con-
nected with the worship of Bacchus’; moreover, he was the father
of the Alemzon, whose son Megacles married Agariste, the daughter.
of Cleisthenes of Sicyon, and had by her Cleisthenes, the Athenian
demagogue, who is said to have imitated his maternal grandfather
in some of the reforms which he introduced into the Athenian
constitution®. One of the points, which Herodotus mentions in
immediate connexion with Cleisthenes’ imitation of his grand-
father, is the abolition of the Homeric rhapsodes at Sicyon, and his
restitution of the Tragic Choruses to Bacchus. May we not also
conclude that Megacles the elder was not indifferent to the policy
of a ruler who was so nearly connected with him by marriage?
The other party was Pisistratus, who was, as we have said, born
near Brauron, where rhapsodic recitations were connected with the
worship of Bacchus; the strong-hold of his party was the Tetrapolis,
which contained the town of Cnoé3, to which, and not to the
Beeotian town of the same name, we refer the traditions with
regard to the introduction of the worship of Bacchus into Attica‘;
his party doubtless included the Augicores (who have indeed been
considered as identical with the Diacrians’), and these we have
seen were the original possessors of the worship of Bacchus;
finally, there was a mask of Bacchus at Athens, which was said to
be a portrait of Pisistratus*; so that upon the whole there can be
little doubt of the interest which he took in the establishment of
the rites of the Algicores as a part of the state religion. With
regard to the actress, Phya, we need only remark that she was a
garland-seller’, and therefore, as this trade was a very public one,
could not easily have passed herself off upon the Athenians for a

1 See Welcker’s Nachtrag, p. 250.

2 Herod. v. 67: ratra 5é, doxéew euol, éucuéero 6 KX. otros rov éwurod Lint pomd-
Topa, KX. Tov Lixvavos ripavvoy. Knrewbévys yap...paywdods éravoe év Dixvart aywvl-
Serdar Trav ‘Opnpeiwv éméwy elvexa. Mr. Grote has shown good reasons for believing
that the poems recited at Sicyon as Homeric productions were the Thebais and the
Epigoni. Hist. Gr. Vol, 11. p. 173, note.

° See the passages quoted by Elmsley on the Heracl. 8r.

4 The Deme of Semachus was also in that part of Attica.

° See Wachsmuth, 1. 1, p. 229; Arnold’s Thucydides, pp. 659—6o.

§ 8rov kal rd’ AOjvyor TOO Atovicov rpbowmov exeivov Twés pac eixiva, Athenzeus,
XII. p. 533 C. ;

” arepavirwrs 6é Av. Athen. XIII. p. 6090,

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. 59

goddess. The first inference which we shall draw from a combina-
tion of these particulars is, that the ceremony attending the return
of Pisistratus was to all intents and pufposes a dramatic represen-
tation! of the same kind with that part of the Eumenides of

_ Aischylus, in which the same goddess Athena is introduced for

the purpose of recommending to the Athenians the maintenance
of the Areopagus?.

Before we make any further use of the facts which we have
alluded to, it will be as well to give some account of the celebrated
contemporary of Pisistratus to whom the invention of Greek
Tragedy has been generally ascribed. ‘T'HESPIS was born at
Icarius’, a Diacrian deme‘, at the beginning of the sixth century
p.c2 His birth-place derived its name, according to the tradition,
from the father of Erigone®; it had always been a seat of the reli-
gion of Bacchus, and the origin of the Athenian Tragedy and
Comedy has been confidently referred to the drunken festivals of
the place7: indeed it is not improbable that the name itself may
point to the old mimetic exhibitions which were common there ®.
Thespis is stated to have introduced an actor for the sake of resting
the Dionysian chorus®. This actor was generally, perhaps always,
himself. He invented a disguise for the face by means of a
pigment, prepared from the herb purslain, and afterwards con-
structed a linen mask, in order, probably, that he might be able to
sustain more than one character’. He is also said to have intro-
duced some important alterations into the dances of the chorus, and

1 Solon (according to Plutarch, c. xxx.) applied the term tzoxpivecOac to another
of the artifices of Pisistratus. Diogen. Laért. Solon, 1. says: O¢orw éxwducev (6 Dddwv)
Tpaywolas ayew Te Kal diddoKxew &s dvwped THY Wevdodroyiav. Sr’ ov Ielorparos
éauTov KaTéTpwoev, éxetOev ev py TaiTa gpivat.

2 This seems to be nearly the view taken of this pageant by Dr. Thirlwall, Hist. of
Greece, Vol. u. p. 60. Mr. Keightley is inclined to conjecture from the meaning of
the woman’s name (Phya—size) that the whole is a myth.

3 Suidas, Odoms, “Ikaplov wéd\ews ’ATTLKAS.

4 Leake on the Demi of Attica, p. 194.

5 Bentley fixes the time of Thespis’ first exhibition at 536 B.c.

6 Steph. Byz. Ikapla; Hygin. Fab. 130; Ov. Met. vi. 125.

7 Athen. 11. p. 40: amd méOns Kal 7 THs Kwpmdlas Kal THs Tpaywilas evipeois &v
Tkaply tis “Arrixjs evpéby.

8 See Welcker, Nachtrag, p. 222.

9 "Yorepoy 5¢ Odors eva broxpitipy éLebpev brep Tod SavarraverOa Tov xXopdv. Diog.
Laért. Plat. LXVI.

10 Plutarch, Sol, XXIX: 6 Dddwy ebedcaro tov Odorw abrdv broxpwépevoy womep
260s jv Tots wadawois. See also Arist. Ahet. 11. 1, and Liv. vi. 2.

Welcker, Nachtrag, p. 271; Thirlwall’s History of Greece, Vol. 11. p. 126.

60 . THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

his figures were known in the days of Aristophanes!. These are
almost all the facts which we know respecting this celebrated man.
It remains for us to examine them. It appears, then, that he was
a contemporary of Pisistratus and Solon. He was a Diacrian, and
consequently a partizan of the former; we are told too that the latter ,
was violently opposed to him*®. He was an Icarian, and therefore
by his birth a worshipper of Bacchus. He was an UToKpiTns; and
from the subjects of his recitations it would appear that he was
also a rhapsode*. Here we have again the union of Dionysian
rites with rhapsodical recitations which we have discovered in the
Brauronian festival. But he went a step farther: his rhapsode,
or actor, whether himself or another person, did not confine his
speech to mere narration; he addressed it to the chorus, which
carried on with him, by means of its corypheei, a sort of dialogue.
The chorus stood upon the steps of the thymele, or altar of Bacchus;
and in order that he might address them from an equal elevation,
he was placed upon a table (édeds)*, which was the predecessor of
the stage, between which and the thymele in later times there was
always an intervening space. The waggon of Thespis, of which
Horace writes, must have arisen from some confusion between this
standing-place for the actor and the waggon of Susarion®. Themis-
tius tells us that Thespis invented a prologue and a rhesis®. The
former must have been the procemium which he spoke as exarchus
of the improved Dithyramb; the latter the dialogue between him-
self and the chorus, by means of which he developed a myth

1 Aristoph. Vesp. 1479.
* Plutarch, So/. xxrx. Xxx. and p. 59, note r.

* The names of some of his plays have come down to us: they are the IMevGets,
"ADa IeXov, 7} PopBds, ‘Iepets, “Hideoe (Jul. Poll. vi. 45; Suid. s. v. Odors).
Gruppe must have founded his supposition that Ulysses was the subject of a play of
Thespis (Ariadne, p. 129) on a misunderstanding of Plut. Sol. xxx. in which he was
preceded by Schneider (De Originibus Trag. Gr. p. 56).

* See Welcker, Nachtrag, p. 248. We think that the joke of Diceopolis (Arist.
Acharn. 355 sqq.) is an allusion to this practice. Solon mounted the herald’s bema,
when he recited his verses to the people. (V. Plut. c. 8).

° See Welcker, Nachtrag, p. 247. Gruppe says quaintly, but, we think, justly
(Ariadne, p. 122), “It is clear enough that the waggon of Thespis cannot well con-
sist with the festal choir of the Dionysia; and, in fact, this old coach, which has been
fetched from Horace only, must be shoved back again into the lumber-room.” The
words of Horace are (A. P. 275—277):

Ignotum tragic genus invenisse Camcene
Dicitur ef plaustris vexisse poemata Thespis,
Qu canerent agerentque peruncti fiecibus ora.

* p. 316, Hard. : Ooms 52 tpbroydv re kal pow e&edper.

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. ; 61

relating to Bacchus or some other deity or hero’. Lastly, there is
every reason to believe, that Thespis did not confine his represen-
tation to his native deme, but exhibited at Athens”.

From a comparison of these particulars respecting Thespis with
_ the facts which we have stated in connexion with the first return of
Pisistratus to Athens, we shall now be able to deduce some further
inferences. It appears, then, that a near approximation to the
perfect form of the Greek Drama took place in the time of Pisistra-
tus: all those who were concerned in bringing it about were
Diacrians, or connected with the worship of Bacchus; the innova-
tions were either the results or the concomitants of an assumption
of political power by a caste of the inhabitants of Attica, whose
tutelary god was Bacchus, and were in substance nothing but an
union of the old choral worship of Bacchus, with an offshoot of the
rhapsodical recitations of the Tonic epopeeists *.

We can understand without any difficulty why Pisistratus
should encourage the religion of his own people, the Diacrians or
Mgicores; and why Solon, who thought he had given the lower
orders power enough‘, should oppose the adoption of their worship
as a part of the religion of the state; for in those days the religion
and privileges of a caste rose and fell together. It might, however,

1 This is the sense which the word pias bears in Hom. Odyss, XXI. 290, 291 ;
—— airap akovers
nuetépwoy pvdwy Kal pyotos.
Aschyl. Suppl. 610: roudvd’ érede pHow aud’ judy héywr.
See Welcker, Nachtr. p. 269. The invention of the pias seems also to be referred to
by Aristotle, when he says (Poet. c. 4): Nékews 5€ yevouévgs.

2 Nachtrag, p. 254.

3 The conclusions of Gruppe are so nearly, in effect, the same as ours, and so well
expressed, that we think it right to lay them before our readers (Ariadne, p. (27).
“‘Thespis developed from these detached speeches of the Choreute, especially when
they were longer than usual, a recitation by an actor in the form of a narrative; a
recitation, and not a song. Thespis, however, was an inhabitant of Attica, an Athe-
nian, and as such stood in the middle, between the proper Ionians and the Dorians.
The formation of the epos was the peculiar property of the former, of lyric poetry that
of the latter. So long as tragedy or the tragic chorus existed in the Peloponnese,
they were of a lyrical nature. In this form, with the Doric dialect and a lyrical
accompaniment, they were transplanted into Attica; and here it was that Thespis first
joined to them the Ionic element of narration, which, if not quite Ionic, had and
maintained a relationship with the Ionic, even in the language.” We may here remark,
that all the old iambic poets wrote strictly in the Ionic dialect. Welcker has clearly
shown this by examples in the case of Simonides of Amorgus. (See Rheinisch.
Museum for 1835, p. 369.)

4 Solon, ed. Bach, p. 94: Ajuw mer yap Swka técov Kpdros dvcov emapkel. Ts not
Niebuhr’s translation of this line wrong? (Hist. Rom. Vol. 11. note 700.) Comp.
Asch. Agamemn. 370: ;

éorw dmhuavtov wore Katrapkely eb mparidwy NaxdvTa.

62- THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

be asked why Pisistratus and his party, who evidently in their en-
croachments on the power of the aristocracy adopted in most cases
the policy of the Sicyonian Cleisthenes, should in this particular
have deviated from it so far as to encourage the rhapsodes, whom
Cleisthenes, on the contrary, sedulously put down on account of the
great predilection of the aristocracy for the Epos!. This deserves
and requires some additional explanation. Pisistratus was not only
a Diacrian or goat-worshipper: he was also a Codrid, and therefore
a Neleid; nay, he bore the name of one of the sons of his mythical
ancestor, Nestor: he might, therefore, be excused for feeling some
sort of aristocratical respect for the poems which described the wis-
dom and valour of his progenitors. Besides, he was born in the
deme Philaide, which derived its name from Phileus, one of the
sons of Ajax, and he reckoned Ajax also among his ancestors: this
may have induced him to desire a public commemoration of the
glories of the Avantidz, just as the Athenians of the next century
looked with delight and interest at the Play of Sophocles?: and we
have little doubt but he heard in his youth parts of the Iliad recited
at the neighbouring deme of Brauron®. If we add to this, that by
introducing into a few passages of the Homeric poems some striking
encomiums on his countrymen, he was able to add considerably to
his popularity, and that it is always the policy of a tyrant to en-
courage literature*, we shall fully understand why he gave himself
so much trouble about these poems in the days of his power.
Solon also greatly encouraged the rhapsodes, and shares with Pisis-
tratus the honour of arranging the rhapsodies according to their
natural and poetical sequence®: we must not forget, too, that Solon

1 Wachsmuth, Hell. Alt. 11. 2, 389.

2 See Rheinisch. Mus. for 1829, p. 62. j

3 See Nitzsch, Indag. per Od. Interpol. prepar. p. 37; Hist. Hom. p. 165;
Welcker, Ep. Cycl. p. 393.

* “Debbe un principe,” says Machiavelli (il Principe, cap. Xxt. fin.), ‘ne’ tempi
convenienti dell’ anno tenere occupatii popoli con feste e spettacoli; e perch? ogni
citta @ divisa o in arti o in trib, debbe tener conto di quelle universitd.”

5 Quis doctior iisdem illis temporibus, aut cujus eloquentia litteris instructior fuisse
traditur, quam Pisistrati? qui primus Homeri libros, confusos antea, sic disposuisse
dicitur ut nunc habemus. Cicer. de Orat. 111. 34.

Tlewlorparos éry 7a ‘Ounpov dtecracuéva Te kal dddaxod pynuovevoueva HOpoléero.
Pausan, VII. 26, p. 594.

“Torepoy Meclorparos cuwayayav arépnve thy Idda cal ri ’Odtcceay. ABlian,
1%, [25 >on ee

See also Joseph. c. Apion. 1, 2 ; Liban. Panegyr. in Julian. T. 1. p. 1470, Reiske;
Suidas, v. “Ownpos; and Eustath. p. 5.

® Comp. Diog. Sol. 1. 57, with Ps, Plat. Hipparch. p. 228 B.

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. 63

was one of those writers of gnomic poetry, whom we have con-
sidered as the successors of the Epopceists, and from whose writings
the Attic tragedians modelled their dialogue. Now we know that
Pisistratus endeavoured, as far as was consistent with his own de-
signs, to adopt the constitution of Solon, and always treated his
venerable kinsman with deference and respect. May not a wish to
reconcile his own plans with the tastes and feelings of the super-
seded legislator have operated with him as an additional reason for
attempting to unite the old epic element with the rites of the Dio-
nysian religion, which his political connexions compelled him to
transfer from the country to the city ?. may not such a combination
have been suggested by his early recollections of the Brauronia?
did the genius of the Icarian plan the innovation, or was he merely
instrumental towards carrying it into effect? was the name Thespis
originally borne by this agent of Pisistratus, or was it rather a sur-
name, derived from the common epithet of the Homeric minstrel},
and implying nothing more in its connexion with the history of the
drama, than that it arose from a combination such as we have
described ?

But whatever reason we may assign for the union of the rhap-
sody with the Bacchic chorus, it seems pretty clear that this union
was actually effected in the time of Pisistratus. And herein con-
sists the claim of Thespis to be considered as the inventor of Attic
Tragedy. Arion’s satyrical chorus, and even the lyric drama of
Epigenes, may have been imitated at Athens soon after their intro-
duction in the Peloponnesus. The cyclic chorus was performed as
a separate affair till the latest days of Athenian democracy?, and
the Pyrrhic dance, which was adopted by the Satyrs, was also a

1 Hom. Od. 1. 328:
Tov 6 brepwidfev ppect aivbero Oéomiv dodiy
Kovpn “I kaptoco.

VIII. 408:
ws dpa To Tpddpwv Beds wrace Oécriv aodyy.

XVII. 385:
7 Kal Oéomuv dowddr, 6 Kev Téprycw deldwy. e

See Buttmann’s Lexilogus, 1. p. 166. It was very common to invent names for
persons from their actions, or for persons to change their own names according to
their profession. Thus Helen is called the daughter of Nemesis, Arion the son of
Cycleus, and Tisias changed his name into Stesichorus, by which alone he is known at
the present day (above, p. 37, and see Clinton’s F. H. Vol. 1. p. 5); so that Thespis
may even be an assumed name.

2 Lys. dod, Swpod. p. 698.

64 THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

distinct exhibition’. Nay, the Homeric rhapsody was recited by
itself on the proper occasion; that is to say, generally at the great
Panathenea?: nor would the Homeric hexameter have been so
well suited to a dramatic dialogue as the trochaic tetrameter and
senarius, which the vigorous and sententious poetry of Archilochus
and the elder Simonides had made well known and popular in
Attica and in the Augean. Whether anticipated or not by Su-
sarion, in the employment of the Jambic metre in dramatic speeches,
Thespis may claim the merit of having been the first to combine
with the Bacchic chorus, which he received from Arion, a truly
epic element, and he was clearly the first who made the rhapsode
appear as an actor sustaining different characters, and addressing
the audience from a fixed and elevated stage. At first he may
have been contented, like the exarchi of the improved Dithyramb,
with personating Bacchus, and surrounding himself with a chorus
of Satyrs; but there is every reason to believe that he soon ex-
tended his sphere of myths, and that his plots were as various as
those of his successors.

Bentley was interested in the establishment of his proposition
that Thespis did not write his plays, and naturally manifested the
eagerness of a pleader rather than the impartiality of a judge’,
There is no antecedent improbability in the statement of Donatus
that Thespis wrote tragedies. Solon, and, much earlier, Archilo-
chus and Simonides committed their poems to writing; and in the
days of Pisistratus it is not likely that a favourite rhapsode would
leave his compositions unpublished. ‘The destruction of Athens, in
B.c. 480, made the older specimens of Attic literature very scarce,
but there must have been some remains of his writings in the time
of Sophocles, otherwise that poet would hardly have published
strictures on him and Cheerilus*, which, as we may infer from his
criticisms on Adschylus®, in all probability referred to the harshness
of their style. Aristophanes speaks of him precisely in the same
terms as he does of Phrynichus, predicating an antiquated stiffness
of both these old Tragedians®. We may grant that the lines attri-

7.
1 Lys. u. s.; Schol. Aristoph. Nub. 988.
2 Lycurg. c. Leocr. p. 161; Plat. Hipparch. p. 228 B; Ablian, V. H. viii. 2.
3 Dissertation on Phalaris, pp. 237 sqq.
4 Suid. s. v. LopoxAjjs; wept rot xopod mpos Odaomw kal Xoipirov aywvegopevos.
5 See Miiller, Hist. Lit. Gr. Vol. 1. p. 340, and our note on the translation.
® Comp. Vesp. 220: dpxatopeoiiwvoppurxipara wédn, “antiquated honey-sweet

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. 65

puted to Thespis by Clemens Alexandrinus’ contain internal evi-
dence of their spuriousness, but there is no presumption against the
authenticity of the quotations in Plutarch? and Julius Pollux, be-
yond the ill-founded hypothesis, that Thespis composed only ludi-
crous dramas. ‘This hypothesis, as we have seen above, rests on
the old confusion between Thespis and Susarion. The forgeries of
Heraclides Ponticus are themselves no slight proof of the originally
serious character of the Thespian drama; for if his contemporaries
had really believed that Thespis wrote nothing but ludicrous
dramas, a scholar of Aristotle would hardly have attempted to im-
pose upon the public with a set of plays, altogether different in
style and title from those of the author on whom he wished to pass
them off. The fact is, that the choral plays from which the Thes-
pian drama was formed were satyrical, for the Dithyramb in the
improved form which it received from Arion was performed by a
chorus of satyrs‘; and there is little doubt that Thespis may have
been a satyric poet before he was a tragedian, in the more modern
sense of the word: but Chameleon seems to have expressly men-
tioned the fact, that Thespis passed from Bacchie to Epic subjects’.
With regard to the titles of his plays preserved by Suidas and —
Julius Pollux, they are not really open to cavil. For even sup-
posing that they refer rather to the apocryphal compositions of
Heraclides than to the lost tragedies of the old Icarian, there is no
reason for concluding that the titles were not borrowed by the
fabricator from obsolete but genuine dramas. Unless we are pre-
pared to maintain, against the prevalent tendency of all the autho-
rities, that Thespis never wrote or acted a play of grave or pathetic
character, we cannot assert that he was unlikely to have brought

and popular ditties from the Phenisse of Phrynichus,” with a passage in a subse-
quent part of the same play (1479):

dpxovmevos THs vuKTos ovdév maverat

Tapxact’ exe’ ols Odors iywvifero.

1 Clem. Al. Strom. Vv. p. 675, Potter.

2 Plut. de Audiendis Poetis, p. 134, Wyttenb.

3 Jul. Poll. vu. 43. Another fragment has been lately published from a papyrus
by Letronne, Fragmens inédits d’anciens poétes Grecs, Par. 1838, p. 7: ovx« é&abpijoas
016" lidy 6é cor Aéyw, where é£aOpéw is drat heyomevov.

4 Above, p. 40. i

5 This seems to be the proper interpretation of the passage in Photius, Lez. s. v.
obdév pds tov Atdvucov—rd mpdcbev eis Tov Atdvucov ypapovres TovToLs HywvifovTo
dep kal carupixa éhéyero" Yorepov 5é weraBdvres els Tpaywolas ypdpew Kara puxpor els
ptGous Kal icropias érpdmyncay pnkére TOU Oeod pynmovetovtes, Bbev Kal éerepwvnoay
k.T.r. Kal Xaparéwy ev TP wepl Odoridos. Below, p. [69], note 1.

DTG: 5

66 THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS.

forward dramas, bearing the titles in question—namely, ‘“ Pen-
theus;”’ “the Funeral Games of Pelias,” or ‘ Phorbas;” “the
Priests; “the Youths;”’ indeed it would not be difficult to show
that these subjects were very well adapted for the narrative speeches
which must have abounded while the actor was limited to the per-
sonation of one character at a time.

With regard to the violent and ludicrous dances, which were
attributed to Thespis, and of which Aristophanes gives a somewhat
ludicrous picture at the end of his “ Wasps!,”’ we have only to
remark that all antiquated postures, attitudes, and movements,
appear ridiculous to those whose grandfathers practised them.
Apollo himself is described as leading the Pan with high and
springy steps?; and the gymnopedic dance, in which the Tragic
Emmeleia took its rise, must have been originally distinguished
by the agility which it prescribed. In the early days of the
drama a great deal of energetic and expressive gesticulation was
expected from the chorus, and even in the time of Adschylus it
is recorded that Telestes, the ballet-leader of that poet, invented
many new forms of yepovouia or manual gesticulations, and that
in the “ Seven against Thebes” he represented the action of the
piece by his mimic dancing’.

The statement of Suidas, that Phrynichus was the first who
introduced women on the stage (77p@tos yuvaiKeiov Tmpoowmoyv eion-
yayev), which Bentley, perhaps purposely, mistranslates, is no
reason for concluding that Thespis never wrote a Tragedy called
“« Alcestis,”’ were there any real evidence to show that this was the
title of one of his plays; for it would have been perfectly easy
to handle that subject in the Thespian manner, that is, with
more narrative than dialogue, without the introduction of Alcestis
herself*. Indeed we cannot conceive how she could be introduced
as talking to the chorus, whom she does not once address in the
play of Euripides, and there was no other actor for her to talk with.

1 V. 1848 sqq.; Bentley, Phalaris, pp. 265 sqq.

2 Above, p. 32, note 2. ;

3 Welcker, Nachtrag, pp. 266, 7; Athen. I. p. 21 F: kal TéXeots 6é 7 Tedéorys, 6
épxnorodiddoKaNos, moka é&evpnKe oxNMaTA GKpws Tals Xepol Ta Neyoueva Setxvvotoats
weatee "Apictok\As your dyoly bre TeNéorns 6 AlcxvdXov dpxnarTns ovTws nv TexviTys Wore
év TH dpxetabat rods ‘Erra éml OnBas pavepa rojoa Ta mpdyuara de dpxijcews. See
Heindorf, ad Plat. Cratyl. § 51.

4 In the Suppliants, one of the most archaic of the extant plays of Aischylus, no
female character is introduced on the stage, although all the interest centres in the
daughters of Danaus, who form the chorus.

THE TRAGIC DIALOGUE.—THESPIS. 67

Of course, there could be no theatrical contests in the days
of Thespis!: but the dithyrambic contests seem to have been im-
portant enough to induce Pisistratus to build a temple in which
the victorious choragi might offer up their tripods’, a practice which
the victors with the tragic chorus subsequently adopted.

1 Plutarch, Sol, XxIx.
2 T1vAcov, lepdv ’AmoAAwvos ’AOHvycw vd Tetovorpdrov yeyouds* els 5 Tods Tpimobas
ériBecay of TS KUKMw ope viKijoavres TA Oapy7ja. Photius. Comp. Thucyd. 1. 15,

VaeS 4s

CHAPTER .V-

THE PROPER CLASSIFICATION OF GREEK PLAYS.
ORIGIN OF COMEDY.

The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-
comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral,
scene individable, or poem unlimited. For the law of writ and the law of liberty
these are the only men. SHAKSPEARE.

T is generally stated that there were three kinds of Greek Plays,

and three only—Tragedy, Comedy, and the Satyrical Drama.
It will be our endeavour in the present chapter to examine this
classification, and to see whether some better one cannot be pro-
posed. With a view to this it will be proper to inquire into the
origin of the comical and satyrical dramas, just as we have already
investigated the origin of Tragedy, and to consider how far the
Satyrical Drama differed from or agreed with either the Tragedy
or Comedy of the Greeks.

The word Tragedy—tpaywdia—is derived of course from the
words tpayos and 67. The former word, as we have already
seen, is a synonym for cdtupos!: for the goat-eared attendant
of Dionysus was called by the name of the animal which he re-
sembled, just as the shepherd or goatherd was called by the name
of the animal which he tended, and whose skin formed his clothing®.
Tpaywdia is therefore not the song of a goat, because a goat was
the prize of it; but a song accompanied by a dance performed
by persons in the guise of satyrs, consequently a satyric dance;
and we have already shown how Tragedy in its more modern sense
arose from such performances. At first, then, Tragedy and the

1 See above, p. 40, note 4.

2 The word Tityrus signifies, according to Servius, the leading ram of the flock ;
according to other authorities it means a goat: and some have even supposed it to be
another form of Satyrus. See the passages quoted by Miiller, Dor. 1v. ch. 6, § ro,
note (e).

ORIGIN OF COMEDY. 69

Satyrical Drama were one and the same. When, however, the Tra-
gedy of Thespis had firmly established itself, and Comedy was
not yet introduced, the common people became discontented with
the serious character of the new dramatic exhibitions, and missed
the merriment of the country satyrs; at the same time they thought
that their own tutelary deity was not sufficiently honoured in per-
formances which were principally taken up with adventures of
other personages: in the end they gave vent to their dissatisfaction,
and on more than one occasion the audience vociferously com-
plained that the play to which they were admitted had nothing
to do with Bacchus’. The prevalence of this feeling at length
induced Pratinas of Phlius, who was a contemporary of Auschy-
lus, to restore the tragic chorus to the satyrs, and to write dramas
which were indeed the same in form and materials with the Tragedy,
but the choruses of which were composed of satyrs, and the dances
pyrrhic instead of gymnopzdic*, This is the drama which has
been considered by some as specifically different both from Tragedy
and Comedy, but which was in fact only a subdivision of Tragedy’,
written always by Tragedians, and, we believe, seldom‘ acted but
along with Tragedies®.

We have already referred to the statement that the Comedy of
the Greeks arose from the Phallic processions, just as their Tragedy

1 In his opening Symposiacal disquisition, Plutarch thus speaks: “Qozep ody,
Ppuvvixou kat Aioxvdou Thy Tpaywolav eis wvOous kal aby mpoaydvruv, é\éxXOn’ Th Tadra
mpos Tov Ardvucov ;—ovTws euorye woANdKts elev mapéoTn mpos Tovs EXxovTas els TA
cupTéoa Tov KupLtevovTa—Q dvOpwre, Ti Tatra mpds Tov Acévucov ;—Sympos. I. I.

Zenobius gives this explanation of the phrase Ovdéy mpds Tov Acévucov:—Tdv yopav
€& dpxjs eléicuévav diOdpauBov dbew eis roy Acovucoy, ot motnral vaorepov éxBdavrTes Tis
curnbelas tavrns Aiayras cal Kevratpous ypddew émexelpovv. “Obey of Oewmevor oxw-
mrovres é\eyov, Ovdev mpos Tov Acdvucov, Aca yodv Totro Tovs Larvpous vatepov edokev
avrots mpoeicayew, iva wn doxGow émiavOdvecbat Tod Geot. p. 40.

Suidas, in his explanation of the same saying, after mentioning the opinion by
which it was referred to the alterations of Epigenes the Sicyonian, adds: Bédruoy dé
ovTw* Td mpdcbe els tov Ardvucov ypddortes, TovTas WywvifovTo, dmep kal Larupixa
éhéyeTo’ Uarepov 5é peraBdvres els TO Tpaywilas ypdgew, kara pcKpov els uUOous Kal
isropias érparynoay, pnkére Tov Acovicov puynmovevovres'—d0ev TovTo Kal émepuynoar.
Kal Xaparéwv &v 7@ epi Oéoridos Ta TapatAnowa ictopet. So also Photius, above,
p- 65, note 5.

2 Above, p. 35.

3 Demetrius says (de Elocut. § 169, Vol. 1x. p. 76, Walz): 6 dé yé&\ws éxOpa
Tpaywdias ovdé yap erwojoeey dy Tis Tpaywilay ralfovcay, érel cdrupov ypawe
avril Tpaywotas.

* If Pratinas wrote only eighteen tragedies to thirty-two satyrical dramas, some of
the latter must have been acted alone. See Welcker, Zrilogie, pp. 497—8. _

° It has been plausibly conjectured that the satyrical drama was originally acted
before the Tragedy. Welk. Nachtr. p. 279.

70 CLASSIFICATION OF GREEK PLAYS.

did from the Dithyramb*. Its progress, however, and its successive
advances from rudeness to perfection, are involved in so much
obscurity, that even Aristotle is unable to tell us any thing about
it; but he is willing to concede that it was started in Sicily?,
or primarily in Megaris®,. And this appears very probable; for
not only was Susarion, who is generally admitted to have been
the earliest comic poet*, a native of Tripodiscus in Megaris, but
continual allusions are made in ancient writers® to the coarse
humour of the Megarians and their strong turn for the ludicrous,
qualities which they seem to have imparted to their Sicilian
colonists.

But whatever may have been the birth-place of Greek Comedy,
it is quite certain that it originated in a country festival: it was
in fact the celebration of the vintage, when the country people went
round from village to village, some in carts®, who uttered all the
vile jests and abusive speeches with which the Tragedy of Thespis
has been most unjustly saddled; others on foot, who bore aloft the
Phallic emblem, and invoked in songs Phales the comrade of Bac-
chus’. This custom of going round from village to village sug-

gested the derivation of Comedy from «dun, and Aristotle has been
misled by his own learning into an apparent approbation of this, on
many accounts, absurd etymology’. One reason which has been
advanced in defence of this etymology is extraordinarily ridiculous.
We are told” that the word cannot be derived from xdmos, because

1 Above, p. 10. Thus we read that Antheas the Lindian kwpmdlas érole: «at
&Xa woANG &v TOUTH TH TpdTw THY wonudTwv, a Enpxe Tols peT avTOD PadoPopodct.
(Athen. p. 445 B.)

2 Ai pev obv rijs rpaywilas peraBdoeis, Kal d¢ dy éyévovro, od} AeAOacw. % Ge
Kwppola, da 7d wn crovddferOar EE apxts, abe. Kal yap xopdy kwuwdav dye more 6
dpxwy @wkev, aX’ EOedovral joav' dn 5é cxjpward Twa avrHs éxovons, of Neydmevor
airs moral uynmovevovra’ tls 5é mpdcwra drédwkev, 7} NOyous, 7 ANON broKpiTGy,
kal doa roavra, jyvdnrar. Tod dé widous rorety "Emlyapuos kal Pdpuis Apiav™ Td mév
oty éEapyns €x Duxedias 7Oe. Aristot. Poet. v.

3 Tis méev Kwuwdlas ol Meyapeis, of re evradOa, ws él rHs map’ abrots Snuoxparlas
yevouevns, Kal of €x DixeNlas. Poet. III. 5.

4 Proleg. Aristoph. Kiist. p. xi: thy kwpydlay nipjcbal pact bd Soveaplwvos.

5 See Miiller’s Dorians, rv. 7, § 1.

6 Schol. Lucian. Zevs rpayqwods (vi. p. 388, Lehmann): év 79 éoprp tav Atovucluy
mapa Tots "AOnvatocs éml anata Kabjpevor éoxwmrrov d\d\jdous Kal éodopotvTo oN.
See the passages in Creuzer’s note on Lydus, de Mens. p. 127, ed. Rother.

7 The reader will see these particulars in Aristoph. Acharn. 240 sqq.

ah mrovovmevor TA dvduaTra onuetov, odTor mev yap (IleNorrovyyjorot) Kwmas Tas meptorkldas
kare pacly, ’AOnvata 5é Sjmous. ws Kkwumdovs, ovK admrd TOD Kwudfew NexPévTas aAKA
TH Kata Kbwas wAdvy ariwagoudvous éx Tod daoreos. Poet. c. Il.

® By Schneider (de Orig. Comm. p. 5).

ORIGIN OF COMEDY. 71

one of the meanings of that word is 7 pert’ oivov 66. This would
scarcely be an argument if it were only the signification of the
word «duos: but this is so far from being the case, that it is not
even the primary or most usual meaning of the word. Kowos*
signifies a revel continued after supper. It was a very ancient
custom in Greece for young men, after rising from an evening
banquet, to ramble about the streets to the sound of the flute or
the lyre, and with torches in their hands; such a band of revellers
was also called a xcdmos. Thus Auschylus says’, very forcibly, that
the Furies, although they had drunk their fill of human blood in
the house of the Pelopide, and though it was now time that they
should go out like a «@os, nevertheless obstinately stuck to the
house, and would not depart from it. And as the band of revellers
“flown with insolence and wine,” as Milton says’, not unfrequently
made a riotous entrance into any house where an entertainment
was going on‘, the verb éwesoxopadw is used metaphorically by
Plato to signify any interruption or intrusion, whether it be the in-
vasion of a philosophical school by mere pretenders to science®, or
the evasion of the proper.subject of inquiry by the introduction of
extraneous matter®. Hence the word K@yos is used to denote any
band or company. In a secondary sense, it signifies a song sung
either by a convivial party or at the Bacchiec feasts (not merely in
honour of the god, but also to ridicule certain persons), or lastly,
by a procession in honour of a victor at the public games. By a
still further transition, c@wos is used for a song in general; and a
peculiar flute tune, together with its corresponding dance, was
known by this name. It was in the second sense of the word that
the Bacchie reveller was called a cop@mdds, namely, a comus-singer,
according to the analogy of tpaywoos, ‘Napwdos, &e., in which the
first part of the compound refers to the performer, the second to the

1 See Welcker in Jacobs’ edition of Philostratus, p. 202. The remarks in the text
are an abstract of what he says on the signification of this word. He supposes, how-

ever, that cwuwdds is derived from the secondary sense of the word, in which he agrees
with Kanngiesser (Kom. Biihn. p. 32).
2 Agamemnon, 1161, Wellauer:
Kal pny merwxos y ws OpactverOar m)éov
Bporetov aiwa ck@mos ev Somos péver
: Avoreumros tw cvyybvwv ’Epwriwy.
SePar fh. t, 507
4 Like Alcibiades in Plato’s Sympos. p. 212 ©.
© Resp. p. 500 B: Tovs 2éwHev ov TROT Nhe ETELTKEKWULAKOTAS.
6 Theetet. p. 184 A: Kal 7d péyLoTov, ov évexa 6 NOyos Wpunrat, ex iamaiuas mépt, Th
mor éoTly, &okemtov yévnrat Urb THy éreckwpavovTwy hoywr.

72 CLASSIFICATION OF GREEK PLAYS.

song, and as tpayedla signifies a song of satyrs, so Ko“@dda means
a song of comus. It is clear, from the manner in which the Athe-
nian writers speak of the country Dionysian procession, that it was
considered as a comus!; and we think this view of the case is con-
firmed by the epithet Evyxwpos, which Diczopolis applies to Phales
as the companion of Bacchus”. ~?

The Phallic processions, from which the old Comedy arose, seem
to have been allowed in very early times in all cities; Aristotle tells
us that they still continued in many cities even in his time’, and
the inscriptions quoted above‘ prove that a lyrical Comedy had
developed itself from them. In the time of the orators, the (@v-
gdarrot were still danced in the orchestra at Athens®, and we
learn from the speech of Demosthenes against Conon, that the
riotous and profligate young men, who infested the streets, delighted
to call themselves by names® derived from these comic buffooneries.
But probably they were always more common in the country,
which was their natural abode; and if a modern scholar’ is right
in concluding from the words of the Scholiast on Aristophanes§,
that there were two sorts of Phallic processions, the one public,
the other private, we cannot believe that the private vintage cere-
monies ever found their way into the great towns. Pasquinades of
the coarsest kind seem to have formed the principal part of
these rural exhibitions®, and this was probably the reason why
Comedy was established at Athens in:the time of Pericles; for
the demagogues, wanting to invent some means of attacking their
political opponents with safety, could think of no better way of
effecting this than by introducing into the city the favourite country
sports of the lower orders, and then it was, and not till then, that

' Thus in an old law quoted by Demosthenes (c. Mid. p. 517), we have 6 x@mos
kal ol kwpwoot. '

2 Acharn. 263: Pahjjs, éraipe Baxxlov,

uyKape.

3 ra padduxd & ere kal viv év moddais Trav modewn Siapever vomefoueva. Aristot.
Poet. c. Iv.

4 Above, pp. 45 sqq.
° Hyperides apud Harpocrat. v. I@dpadXor.

6 They termed themselves "I@ipadXo and Adrodjxv8o, Demosth. Conon, 194
(1261). Cf. Athen. xiv. p. 622; Lucian, 11. 336.

7 Schneider, de Orig. Com. p. 14.

® Acharn. 243 (p. 775, |. 32, Dind.): mesOévres ody Tots Fyye\umevols of ’"APnvator
padXous loia kal Snuocig Kareckevacay Kal rovrous éyépatpov Tov Beov.

9 Platonius, rept deapopas kwywiidv: ‘Trobdces pev yap THS moAads Kwmwdias
joav adra 7d orparnyots émirydy, K.7.r. '

ORIGIN OF COMEDY. 73

the performance of Comedies became, like that of Tragedies, a public
concern! When it was formally established as a distinct species
of drama at Athens, the old Comedy was supplied, like Tragedy,
with a chorus, which, though not so numerous or expensively
attired as the tragic, was as carefully trained and as systematic in
its songs and dances. In effect,-1t was the same modification of
an original comus as that which performed the Epinicia of Pindar.
It appears from several passages that the comic actors were ori-
ginally unprovided with masks, but rubbed their faces over with
wine-lees as a substitute for that disguise?.

The Tragedy and Comedy of the Greeks had, therefore, an
entirely different origin. We must in the next place consider what
were their distinctive peculiarities, how far they differed intrinsi-
eally, and whether any of the remaining Greek plays cannot be
considered as belonging strictly either to Tragedy or Comedy.
We shall do this more satisfactorily, if we first set forth the defi-
nitions which have been given by Plato and Aristotle. Plato has
rather alluded to, than expressed, the distinction between Tragedy
and Comedy in their most perfect form, but his slight remarks
nevertheless strike at the root of the matter. Comedy, he considers
to be;the generic name for all dramatic exhibitions which have
a tendency to excite laughter; while Tragedy, in the truest sense
of the word;/is an imitation of the noblest life, that is, of the actions
of gods and heroes. As a definition, however, this account of
Tragedy, although excellent as far as it goes, is altogether incom-
plete. Aristotle’s, on the other hand, is quite perfect. He makes
the distinction, which Plato leaves to be inferred, between the

1 xopdy Kwuwiav dpé rote 2Swkev 6 dpxwv. Aristotle, above, p. 70, note 2.

Gruppe labours under some extraordinary mistake in supposing (Ariadne, p. 123)
that Comedy was not originally connected with religion.

* Hence a comedian is called tpuyqwods, ‘‘a lee-singer.” It does not appear that
masks were always used even in the time of Aristophanes, who acted the part of Cleon
in the ‘Irs without one. In later times, however, it was considered disreputable
to go in any comus without a mask. Demosth. Fals. Ley. p. 433: Tod xatapdrov
KupnBlovos bs év rats ropmats dvev Tob mpoowmou Kkwud fer.

3 Legg. Vit. p. 817: dca pev obv wept yédwra éore walyna, ad 6) Kwmmdlav mdyres
Aéyouev......ulunots TOO KadAlarov kal aplorov Biov 6 64 dayev mdvrTes ye SvTws
elvac Tpaywolav tiv adnbectdrynv. The xdddoros Kal dpucros Bios signifies the life of a
man who is in the highest degree xaXoxdya6és, and this term exactly expresses the
persons who figured in the plays of Aischylus and Sophocles; for, as Dr. Thirlwall
remarks, in his beautiful paper On the Irony of Sophocles, ‘‘ None but gods or heroes
could act any prominent part in the Attic tragedy” (Phil. Mus. 1. p. 493). And
this is perhaps the reason why Plato, in another passage (Gorgias, p. 502 A), talks of
H ceuvy kal Oavpacrh 7 THs Tpaywolas rolnacs.

74 CLASSIFICATION OF GREEK PLAYS.

objects of tragic and comic imitation, and adds to it the consti-
tuent characteristic of Tragedy, namely, that it effects by means
of pity and terror the purgation of such passions!. Aristotle’s
definition of Tragedy is so full and comprehensive, that it has
been adopted even by modern writers as a description of what
modern Tragedy ought to be’; there is one particular, however,
which he has not expressly stated, and which is due rather to the
origin of Greek Tragedy than to its essence, we mean the necessity
for a previous acquaintance on the part of the audience with the
plot of the Tragedy: this it is which most eminently distinguishes
the Tragedies of Sophocles from those of Shakspeare, and to this is
owing the poetical irony with which the poet and the spectators
handled or looked upon the characters in the piece. Aristotle
is supposed by his commentator Eustratius, to allude to this in
a passage of the Ethics*: we are disposed to believe on the con-
trary, that he is referring to the different effects which events
related in a Tragedy, as having taken place prior to the time of
the events represented, and those events which are represented by
action, produce on the minds of the spectators: for example, the
calamities of Cidipus, when alluded to in the Cidipus at Colonus,
do not strike us with so much horror as when they are represented
in the Cidipus at Thebes.

If, however, all the prominent characters in the true Tragedy
were gods or heroes, it follows that the Ilépcas of Auschylus, and
the Murjtov adwots and Poirocat of Phrynichus, were not
Tragedies in the truest sense’, and must be referred to the class of

1 7 6€ Kwpwila éorly, Borep elrouer, ulunows PavroTépwv pdr, ob wevror kara
macav kaxlav, d\\a Tod aloxpod €ore Td yeNotov wdprov. Poet. c. V.—éorw oy Tpaywola
plunots mpdiews srovdalas Kal redelas, uéyebos éxovons dpuvtav Kat ob bv
dmayyeNlas, 50 édéov kal pd8ov mepaivovca Thy Tay ToovTwv TabynudTwy Kdbapow.
Poet. c. Vi.

* Hurd’s definition (On the Province of the Drama, p. 164) is a mere copy of
Aristotle. Schiller, who has a better right to declare ex cathedrd what Tragedy ought
to be, than any writer of the last century, thus defines it: ‘‘ That art which proposes
to itself, as its especial object, the pleasure resulting from compassion, is called the
tragic art in the most comprehensive sense of the word.” Werke, in einem Bande,
p- 1176.

8 See Dr. Thirlwall’s Essay On the Irony of Sophocles.

41. 11, § 4: dvadéper 6¢ rv waddv exacrov wepl Cavras } TeevTHcavTas ou Baiverv
TONY wGrov 7 Ta Tapdvoua Kal Seva mpoimdpxew Tals rparywolas 7 mpdrTrecOac.

° Niebuhr, Hist. Rome, Vol. 1. note 1150: “The Destruction of Miletus by Phry-
nichus, and the Persians of Aischylus, were plays that drew forth all the manly
feelings of bleeding or exulting hearts, and not tragedies: for these the Greeks, before
the Alexandrian age, took their plots solely out of mythical story. It was essential
that their contents should be known beforehand ; whereas the stories of Hamlet and

ORIGIN OF COMEDY. 75

Histories, which exist in all countries where the drama is much
cultivated, as a subordinate species of Tragedy: the other Tragedies
we may call myths or fables* as distinguished from the true stories,
to which they bore the same relation in the subdivision of Ionian
literature, that the Epos bore to the history of Herodotus.

In the course of time, another rib was taken from the side of
the primary Tragedy, and Tragi-comedy sprang up under the
fostering care of Euripides, which was probably the forerunner of
the iAapotpayediar of Rhinthon, Sopatrus, Sciras, and Blesus’”.
One old specimen of this kind of play remains to us in the "AX«y-
otis of Euripides, which was performed as the satyrical drama of a
Tragic Trilogy, 438 B.c., and we are inclined to consider the
Orestes as another of the same sort’. It resembled the regular
Tragedy in its outward form, but contained some comic characters,
and always had a happy termination.

Of the Satyrical Drama we have already spoken: we cannot,
however, quit the subject of Tragedy and its subordinate forms,
without noticing a play called Eiawrtes of éat Tatvape, which was,
according to Herodian‘, a satyrical drama. This statement has
occasioned some difficulties. It has been asked*, were the Helots,
who doubtless composed the chorus, dressed like satyrs, or mixed
up with satyrs? But if it was a satyrical drama, what mytho-
“logical subject is reconcilable with a chorus of Helots? and on
the same supposition, how could the comedian Eupolis, to whom
Atheneusé ascribes the play, have been its author? for a trespass
by a comedian on the domains of the tragic muse, to whom the
satyrical drama belonged, was, especially in those times, something

Macbeth were unknown to the spectators; at present, parts of them might be moulded
into tragedies like the Greek ; that is, if a Sophocles were to rise up.”

1 The words of Suidas, quoted above, appear to allude to this distinction: kara
puxpov els wUOous Kal ioroplas érpamnoar.

2 Miiller’s Dor. tv. ch. 7, § 6.

3 In an argument to the Alcestis, published from a Vatican MS. (No. 909) by
Dindorf, in 1834, we find the following words: Td dpaua émounOn ie, E5:6dxOn emt
Tyauklvou dpxovtos 7d dy mparos hv Lopoxhijs, Sedrepos Hvpertons Kpjooas, “AXkuardve
7G bi Vwdidos, Tyrépy, 'Adkjarids. 7d de Spaya KWeLKWTEepay exer Thy KaTacKeEVTy.
The last sentence is a repetition in effect of the statement in the Copenhagen argument.
(Matthie, vii. p. 214.) On the date see Welcker, Rheinisch. Mus. for 1835, p. 508;
Clinton, F. H. Vol. 1. p. 424.

4 See Eustathius on Jliad It. p. 297.

5 By Miiller in Was fiir eine Art Drama waren ‘die Heloten’”? Niebuhr’s Rhein.
Mus. ut. p. 488.

S Ive p. 138.

76 CLASSIFICATION OF GREEK PLAYS.

quite unheard of. There is, it must be admitted, some difficulty
in this, and principally in regard to the last question. The Helots,
with their dresses of goatskin or sheepskin, and their indecent
dances in honour of Bacchus, were very fit substitutes for the
satyrs, and it is quite possible to conceive that a Dionysian myth
might be represented in a play, the chorus of which consisted of
Helots. From the statement, however, that Eupolis was the author,
and from the purely comic and criticizing tone of one of the frag-
ments!, we are disposed to conclude that Herodian is mistaken
in calling it a satyrical drama, and that he has been misled by
the resemblance between the guise of the Helots, and that of the
satyrs; whereas the play was a regular Comedy with a political
reference, perhaps not unlike the Aaxedaiuoves of the same author.

The Comedy of the Greeks first attained to a distinct literary
and political importance in the country which witnessed its final
development in a form corresponding to that of its modern repre-
sentatives. Whatever may have been the value of the writings of
Epicharmus, they have not reached our time except in fragments.
For us, Greek Comedy, both in itself, and in its Roman transcrip-
tions, is the Comedy of Athens. So far as we are acquainted with
its literary history, it owes its first development and completion
to the political and social condition of that great democratic metro-
polis; and it is so intimately connected with all that is characteristic
of Attic life, that the greatest scholars of Alexandria, Lycophron
and Eratosthenes, wrote formal and elaborate treatises on the sub-
ject. Considered, then, as peculiarly Athenian, the Comedy of the
Greeks admits of subdivision into three species, or rather three suc-
cessive variations in form, which are generally distinguished as
the Old, the Middle, and the New Comedy. ‘These three subditi-
sions must be considered separately, and with a brief review of
their distinctive characteristics.

The Old Comedy was, as we have already seen, the result of a
successful attempt to give to the waggon-jests of the country comus
a particular and a political bias. Its outward form was burlesque
in its most wanton extravagance. Its essence, or to use the words
of Vico”, its eterna propietd, was personal vilification. Not merely
the satire of description, the abuse of words; but the satire of repre-

1 In Athen. xtv. p. 638.
? Scienza Nuova, 11. p. 638: ‘‘La satira serbd quest? eterna propieta, con la qual
ella nacque, di dir villanie ed ingiurie.”

ORIGIN OF COMEDY. vi

sentation. The object of popular dislike was not merely called a
coward, a villain, a rogue, or a fool, but he was exhibited on the
stage doing everything contemptible and suffering everything ludi-
crous. This systematic personality, the éapPuxn idéa' of the old
popular farce, would not have sufficed to obtain for Comedy an
adequate share of attention from the refined and accomplished
democracy, which established itself at Athens during the admi-
nistration of Pericles. It was necessary that the comic poet who
would gain a hearing in the theatre at Athens should borrow from
Tragedy many of its most striking peculiarities—its choral dances,
its masked actors, its metrical forms, its elaborate scenery and
machines, and above 4ll that chastened elegance of the Attic dialect,
which the fastidiousness of an Athenian citizen required and ex-
acted from the poets and orators. _The comedy became a regular
an extravagant obscenity if latie uage and costume, bi often pre-
senting an elegance in the dike and a poetic refinement in
the melie portions, which would have borne a comparison with the
best efforts of the contemporary tragic muse. Upon this stock
the mighty genius of Aristophanes grafted his own Pantagruelism,
which has in every age, since the days of its reproducer Rabelais,
found in some European country, and in some form or other,
a more or less adequate representative, —Cervantes, Quevedo,
Butler, Swift, Sterne, Voltaire, Jean Paul, Carlyle, and Southey.
By Pantagruelism we mean—in accordance with the definition
which we have elsewhere given of the term’—an assumption of
Bacchanalian buffoonery as a cloak to cover some serious purpose.
Rabelais, who invented the word to express a certain literary deve-
lopment of the character sustained by the court-fools in the middle
ages, must have been quite conscious that he was reproducing,
as far as his age allowed, not only the spirit but even the outward
machinery of the Old Comedy. At any rate he adopts the disguise
of low buffoonery for the express purpose of attacking some form of
prevalent cant and imposture; and this was consistently the ob-
ject of Aristophanes. Whether he professedly takes Aristophanes
as his model, and as the lamp to light him on the way’, may
1 Aristot. Poet. 5.

2 In the Quarterly Review, No. CLXI. pp. 137 sqq.

3 We have shown in the paper on Pantagruelism already cited, that the reference
to Aristophanes and Cleanthes as the lanterns of honour (Rabelais, Vv. c. 33) is derived

78 CLASSIFICATION OF GREEK PLAYS.

be regarded as an open question; but there can be no doubt that
the manner and the object of the curé of Meudon were identical
with those of the great comedian of Athens; and that the name
of Pantagruelist, invented by the one, accurately describes the lead-
ing characteristics of his main prototype. The chief difference
between the Old Comedy of Athens, as represented by Aristophanes,
and the modern manifestations of the same riotous drollery, as a
cover for some serious purpose, which it might be premature, un-
safe, or generally inexpedient to disclose, must be sought in the
peculiar relations which subsisted between the old comedian and
his democratic audience during the short period of the Old Comedy’s
highest perfection, namely, the interval between the commencement
of the Peloponnesian war and the Sicilian expedition, when the
irritable Demos was so conscious of his power and was so exhila-
rated by his good fortune that, like the kings of the middle ages,
he was willing to tolerate any jokes at his own expense, if the
satirist would only pay him the compliment of adopting the thin
veil of caricature, and pretend to put forward as an outpouring of
privileged folly what he really meant to be taken as the most
serious remonstrance. or the most biting reproof*.

It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to draw a clearly defined line
of demarcation between the latest writers of the Old and the earliest
writers of the Middle Comedy. We cannot say of them that this
author was on old comedian; that a middle comedian: they may
have been both, as Aristophanes certainly was, if the criterion
was the absence or presence of a Parabasis*, or speech of the
chorus in which the audience are addressed in the name of the
poet, and without, in many eases, any reference to the subject of the

from Varro (L. L. v. 9, p. 4, Miiller), who is speaking of Aristophanes, the grammarian
of Byzantium, and of the grammatical studies of the Stoies; but Rabelais, like ‘his
commentators, may have misunderstood Varro.

1 Aristophanes openly avows this mixture of the serious and the ridiculous in his
later comedies, when he no longer practised it with the same objects. Ran. 391: kal
mohAd pev yeNord pw’ elretvy moda Ge crovdata. Lecles, 1200: opuxpoy 6 brobéaGac Tots
Kpiratat BovAouar’ Tots copois pev Tov copay weuynuévous Kplvew ue Tots yeAGor F
Hdéws dia Tov yéAwra Kplvew Eve.

2 Ta ras mapaBdoes otk eyovra édddxOn efovalas dd Tod Sjuov peOorapevys Kai
édcyapxlas kparotons. Platonius. With regard to the attempt of Meineke (Question.
Scenice, Sp. Ut. p. 50) to prove that Antiphanes was a new comic poet, because he
mentioned the warri’n (Athen. XIV. p. 662 F), we may remark, that the word cannot
be used as a criterion to enable us to distinguish between two schools of comedians,
for it is mentioned by Nicostratus, the son of Aristophanes (see Clinton in PAil. Mus.
I. p. §60), and the dainty was not unknown to Aristophanes himself, who uses the word
partuoNorx6s (Nub. 451).

ORIGIN OF COMEDY. 79

play. Nor will the proper interpretation of the law epi tod pn)
évopacrl cwpbdeiv) enable us to distinguish between the comedians
as belonging to one class or the other. As to the comedies them-
selves, however, we may safely conclude on the authority of Plato-
nius, that the Middle Comedy was a form of the old, but differed
from it in three particulars; it had no chorus, and therefore no
parabasis,—this deviation was occasioned by the inability of the
impoverished state to fumnish the comic poets with choragi: living
characters were not introduced on the stage,—this was owing to
the want of energy produced by the subversion of the democratic
empire: as a consequence of both these circumstances, the objects of
its ridicule were general rather than personal, and literary rather
than political. If, therefore, we were called upon to give to the
‘Old and Middle Comedy their distinctive appellations, we should
callone Caricature, and the other Criticism ; and if we wished to illus-
trate the difference by modern instances, we should compare the for-
mer to the Lampoon, the latter to the Review. The period to which
the writers of the Middle Comedy belonged, may be defined generally
as that included between the termination of the Peloponnesian war
and the overthrow of Athenian freedom by Philip of Macedon, from
B.c. 404 to B.c. 340. The numerous comedies which appeared in
this interval, especially those belonging to the latter half of the
period, were chiefly occupied in holding up to light and not ill-
natured ridicule, the literary and social peculiarities of the day.
The writers seized on what was ludicrous in the contemporary
systems of philosophy. They parodied and travestied not only
the language but sometimes even the plots of the most celebrated
tragedies and epic poems. And, in the same spirit, they not un-
frequently took their subjects directly from the old mythology. In
their satires on society they attacked rather classes of men, than
prominent individuals, of the class. Courtesans, parasites, and

1 Mr. Clinton, in the Introduction to the second volume of his Fasti Hellenici
(pp. xxxvi, &c.) has shown that the generally received idea, which would distinguish
the Middle from the Old Comedy by its abstinence from personal satire, is completely
at variance with the fragments still extant; and that the celebrated law—rov ph
évomacrl Kwuwdely twd—simply forbade the introduction of any individual on the stage
by name as one of the dramatis persone. This prohibition, too, might be evaded by
suppressing the name and identifying the individual by means of the mask, the dress,
and external appearance alone. ‘“‘ This law, then, when limited to its proper sense, is
by no means inconsistent with a great degree of comic liberty, or with those animad-
versions upon eminent names with which we find the comic poets actually to abound”
(Fast. Hell. p. xiii). The date of the law is uncertain; probably about B.O. 404,
during the government of the Thirty.

80 CLASSIFICATION OF GREEK PLAYS.

wanton revellers with their pie-nic feasts, were freely represented
in general types’, and the self-conceited cook, with his parade of
culinary science, was a standing character in the Middle Comedy’.
Athenian politics were generally avoided; but these poets did not
seruple to make sport of foreign tyrants, like the Dionysii of Syra-
cuse and Alexander of Phere’. Their style was generally pro-
saic‘, and they usually confined themselves to the comic trimeter.
But long systems of anapzestic dimeters were sometimes introduced,
and in their parodies and travesties they imitated the metres of
the poets whom they ridiculed.

The New Comedy commenced, as is well known, with the
establishment of the supremacy of Philip®, and flourished at
Athens during the period distinguished as that of the Macedonian
rulers, who are called the Diadochi and Epigoni ; it belongs, there-
fore, to the interval between the 110th and 130th Olympiads, i.e.
_/ between B.C. 340 and B.c. 260. We can see in Plautus and Terence,
who translated or imitated the Greek writers of this class, satisfac-
tory specimens of the nature of this branch of Comedy. It corre-
sponded as nearly as possible to our own comic drama, especially to
that of Farquhar and Congreve, which Charles Lamb calls the
Comedy of Manners, and Hurd the Comedy of Character. It arose
in all probability from an union of the style and tone of the Euri-
pidean dialogue with the subjects and characters of the later form,
the Middle Comedy. The particular circumstances of the time had
given a new direction to the warlike tendencies of the Greeks. In-
stead of serving in the ranks of the national militia and fighting in
free warfare at home, the active, restless or discontented citizen found
a ready welcome and good pay in the mercenary armies kept up by
the Greek sovereigns of Asia and Egypt. Such a soldier or leader
of mercenaries, having returned from abroad, with a full purse, an
empty head, and a loud tongue, became a standing character in the

1 See the anecdote about Antiphanes, Ath. xtII. pr.

? This was the principal character in the Molosicon, one of the latest plays of
Aristophanes, and it is always re-appearing,

5 As in the Dionysius of Eubulus and the Dionysalexandrus of the younger Cratinus.

4 Anonym. de Comm. U1.: ris 6é wérns Kwuwdlas ol moinral mAdoparos péev ody
HYavro moinrixod, did 5é ris cwvAous ldvres Nadas AovyiKas Exovor Tas dperds, wore
omdviov roinTtkov xapakrijpa elvac wap’ av’rois,

° Meineke says (/ist. Crit. Com. p. 435) that he dates the commencement of the
new comedy from the period immediately preceding the battle of Cheroneia, and that
the anonymous writer on comedy (p. xxxii) is not quite accurate in saying 4 véa éml
"AXeEdvipou elye Thy Axynr.

ORIGIN OF COMEDY. 81

New Comedy. The other characters, the greedy parasite, the clever
and unprincipled slave, and the scheming or tyrannical courtesan,
may have appeared in the Middle Comedy; but they are the new
comedian’s indispensable staff. And now for the first time the
element of love becomes the main ingredient in dramatic poetry’.
The object of the young man’s passion is not the free-born Athenian
maiden, but some accomplished éra/pa, or an innocent girl, who is
ostensibly the slave or associate of the éra/pa, but turns out at the
end of the piece to be the lost child of some worthy citizen*, A
good deal of ingenuity is shown in the contrivance of these un-
expected recognitions (avayywpices), and here also the drama of
Euripides had furnished the comedian with his model. ‘The “heavy
father,” as he is called on our stage, is generally an indispensable
personage, and in the intrigues of the piece he is often the dupe of
the manceuvring slave, or led by some incidental temptations into
the very vices and follies which he had reproved in his son. The
greatest care is taken in the delineation of these characters, and
there can be little doubt that they represented accurately the
most prominent features of the later Attic society. The drama
under such circumstances did not attempt to make men better
than they were, and it is to be feared that the comic stage did
little more than present in the most attractive colours the lax
morality of the age.

It is not our intention to speak of the dramas and quasi-dramas
of a later agé ; it may however be of some assistance to the student,
if we subjoin a general tabular view of the rise and progress of
the proper Greek Drama.

1 Ovid, Fast. 1. 369: Fabula jucundi nulla est sine amore Menandri.
2 See Hist. of Gr. Liter. Vol. 111. pp. 2 sqq.

D, T. G. 6

TABLE OF DRAMATIC

DORIAN ELEMENT.

Choruses in honour of Apollo,

Lyrical Poetry in connexion with these Choruses.
Transfer of these to Bacchus.
The Dithyramb becomes Lyrical.

A Satyrical Chorus introduced by Arion.

Union of the Sesh Dithyramb with
Rhapsodical Recitation, Le. of the
@piapBos with the tapfos.

Dialogue between the Rhapsode and the Chorus.

Another Actor added by schylus:
The schylean Trilogy.

A third 4 Sophocles:
The perfect Athenian Tragedy.
——
First Variety. Second Va riety Third Variety. Pow
The Tragedy The Satyrica The History. The
proper. Drama,

CLASSIFICATION,

IONIAN ELEMENT.
Rhapsodical Recitation of Homeric Poems.

Unaccompanied Recitation of Iambics.

Contests of the Rhapsodes.

Union of the Choral Worship of Bacchus,
with Rhapsodical Recitations at the
Brauronia.

The Comus Song at the Vintage.

Union of the Iambic Lampoon with the
Comus, and establishment of a regular
Comic Chorus. -

The Old Comedy, or Comedy of Caricature.

The Middle Comedy, or Comedy of Criticism.

The New Comedy, or Comedy of Manners.

A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA. 83

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER V.

A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA IN
DIFFERENT AGES AND COUNTRIES.

> = * * al * *

Ir is well known that about three and a half centuries ago the study of ancient
literature was revived by the diffusion of the Greek language (the Latin never became
extinct): the classical authors were brought to light and rendered universally acces-
sible by the art of printing; the monuments of ancient genius were diligently disin-
terred. All this supplied manifold excitements to the human mind, and formed a
marked epoch in the history of our mental culture; it was fertile in effects, which
extend even to us, and will extend to an incalculable series of ages. But at the same
time the study of the ancients was perverted to a deadly abuse. The learned, who
were chiefly in possession of it, and were incompetent to distinguish themselves by
works of their own, asserted for the ancients an unconditional authority ; in fact with
great show of reason, for in their kind they are models. They maintained, that only
from imitation of the ancient writers is true salvation for human genius to be hoped
for; in the works of the moderns they appreciated only what was, or seemed to be,
similar to those of the ancients; all else they rejected as barbarous degeneracy. Quite
otherwise was it with the great poets and artists. Lively as might be the enthusiasm
with which the ancients inspired them, much as they might entertain the design of
vying with them, still their independence and originality of mind constrained them to
strike out into their own path, and to impress upon their productions the stamp of
their own genius.» Thus fared it, even before that revival, with Dante, the father of
modern poetry: he avouched that he took Virgil as his teacher, but produced a work
which, of all mentionable works, most differs in its make from the Zneid, and in our
opinion very far surpassed his fancied master, in power, truth, compass, and profound-
ness. So was it likewise, at a later period, with Ariosto, who has perversely been
compared with Homer: nothing can be more unlike. So, in art, with Michel-Angelo
and Raphael, who nevertheless were unquestionably great connoisseurs in the antiques.
As the poets for the most part had their share of scholarship, the consequence was a
schism in their own minds, between the natural bent of their genius, and the obliga-
tion of an imaginary duty. Where they sacrificed to the latter, they were commended
by the learned: so far as they followed the bent of the former, they were favourites
with the people. That the heroic lays of a Tasso and a Camoens still survive on the
lips of their fellow-countrymen is assuredly not owing to their imperfect affinity with
Virgil, or even with Homer; in Tasso it is the tender feeling of chivalrous love and
honour, in Camoens the glowing inspiration of patriotic enthusiasm.

Those ages, nations, and ranks, which found the imitation of the ancients most to
their liking, were precisely such as least felt the want of a self-formed poetry. The
result was dead school-exercises, which at best can excite but a frigid admiration.
Bare imitation in the fine arts is always fruitless of good: even what we borrow from
others = as it were, be born again within us, if ever it is to issue forth in the

G—3

84 A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA.

nature of poetry. What avails the dilettantism of composing with other people’s
ideas? Art cannot subsist without Nature, and man can give his fellow-men nothing
but himself.

Genuine successors of the ancients and true co-rivals with them, walking in their
path and working in their spirit by virtue of congenial talents and cultivation of mind,
have ever been as rare as your handicraftsmanlike insipid copyists were and are
numerous. The critics, bribed to their verdict by the mere extrinsicality of form,
have for the most part very liberally sanctioned even these serviles. These were
“correct modern classics,” while the great and truly living popular poets, whom a
nation, having once got them, would not consent to part with, and in whom moreover
there were so many sublime traits that could not be overlooked, these they were fain
at most to tolerate as rude wild geniuses. But the unconditional separation thus
taken for granted between genius and taste is an idle evasion. Genius is neither more
nor less than the faculty of electing, unconsciously in some measure, whatever is most
excellent, and therefore is taste in its highest activity.

Pretty much in this way matters proceeded, until, no long time since, some think-
ing men, especially Germans, set themselves to adjust the misunderstanding; and at
once to give the ancients their due, and yet fairly-recognize the altogether different
peculiarity of the moderns. They did not take fright at a seeming contradiction.
Human nature is indeed in its basis one and indivisible, but all investigation declares
that this cannot be predicated in such a sense concerning any one elementary power in
all nature, as to exclude a possibility of divergence into two opposite directions. The
whole play of vital motion rests upon attraction and repulsion. Why should not this
phenomenon recur on the great scale in the history of mankind likewise? Perhaps in
this thought we have discovered the true key to the ancient and modern history of
poetry and the fine arts. They who assumed this, invented for the characteristic
spirit of modern art, as contrasted to the antique or classical, the designation romantic.
And not an inappropriate term either: the word is derived from romance, the name
originally given to the popular languages which formed themselves by intermixture of
the Latin with the dialects of the Old-German, in just the same way as modern
culture was fused out of the foreign elements of the northern national character and
the fragments of antiquity, whereas the culture of the ancients was much more of one
piece.

This hypothesis, thus briefly indicated, would carry with it a high degree of self-
evidence, could it be shown that the self-same contrast between the endeavour of the
ancients and moderns does symmetrically, I might say systematically, pervade all the
manifestations of the artistic and poetic faculty, so far as we are acquainted with
the phases of ancient mind: that it reveals itself in music, sculpture, painting, archi-
tecture, &c. the same as in poetry: a problem which still remains to be worked out in
its entire extent and compass, though much has been excellently well remarked and
indicated in respect of the individual arts.

To mention authors who have written in other parts of Europe, and prior to the
rise of this ‘‘School” in Germany, —in music, Rousseau recognized the contrast, and
showed that rhythm and melody were the prevailing principle of the ancient, as
harmony is of the modern music. But he is contracted enough to reject the latter ;
in which we cannot at all agree with him. With respect to the arts of design,
Hemsterhuys makes a clever apophthegm: ‘‘The ancient painters seem to have been
too much sculptors, the modern sculptors are too much painters.” This goes to the
very heart of the matter; for, as I shall more expressly prove in the sequel, the spirit
of all ancient art and poetry is plastic, as that of the modern is picturesque.

A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA. 85

I will endeavour, by means of an example borrowed from another art, that of
architecture, to illustrate what I mean by this harmonious recognition of seeming
opposites. In the middle ages there prevailed, and in the latter centuries of that era
developed itself to the most perfect maturity, a style of architecture which has been
denominated Gothic, but ought to have been called Old-German. When, upon the
revival of classic antiquity in general, imitation of the Grecian architecture came up,
which often indeed was but too injudiciously applied, without regard had to difference
of climate and to the destination of the edifices, the zealots for this new taste con-
demned the Gothic style altogether, reviled it as tasteless, gloomy, barbarous. In the
Italians, if anywhere, this was excusable: considering their many hereditary remains
of ancient structures, and also their climatical affinity with the Greeks and Romans,
partiality for ancient architecture lay, as it were, in their very blood. But we northern
people are not to be so easily talked out of those powerful, solemn impressions which
fall upon us at the very entering into a Gothic cathedral. Rather we will endeavour
to account for these impressions and to justify them. A very little attention will
satisfy us that the Gothic architecture bespeaks not only extraordinary mechanical
skill, but a marvellous outlay of inventive genius; upon still closer contemplation we
shall recognize its profound significance, and perceive that it forms a complete finished
system in itself quite as much as does that of the Greeks.

To apply this to the matter in hand. The Pantheon is not more different from
Westminster Abbey or St. Stephen’s in Vienna, than is the structure of a tragedy of
Sophocles from that of a play of Shakespeare. The comparison between these miracles
of poetry and architecture might be carried out still further. But really does admira-
tion of the one necessitate us to have a mean esteem of the other? Cannot we admit
that each in its own kind is great and admirable, though this is, and is meant to be,
quite another thing from that? It were worth making the attempt. We do not wish
to argue any man out of his preference for the one or the other. The world is wide,
and has room enough in it for many things that differ, without their interfering with
one another. But a preference originating in views directed to one side alone of the
question, a preference conceived one knows not why nor wherefore, is not what makes
a connoisseur. No: the true connoisseur is he who can suspend his mind, free and
unconstrained, in liberal contemplation of discrepant principles and tendencies, re-
nouncing the while his own individual partialities.

It might suffice for our present purpose, to have thus barely indicated the exist-
ence of this striking contrast between the antique or classical and the romantic. But
as exclusive admirers of the ancients still persist in maintaining that every deviation
from these models is a mere whim of the “new school” of critics, who speak in a
mysterious way about it, but cannot manage to make it dependent upon any valid
idea, I will endeavour to give an explanation of the origin and spirit of the romantic,
and then let it be determined whether the use of the term and recognition of the thing
be thereby justified.

' The mental culture of the Greeks was a finished education in the school of nature.
Of a beautiful and noble race, gifted with impressible senses and a cheerful spirit,
under a mild sky, they lived and bloomed in perfect health of being, and, favoured by
a rare combination of circumstances, achieved all that could be achieved by the limitary
creature man. Their whole system of art and poetry is the manifestation of this
harmony of all powers. They invented the poetry of joy.

Their religion consisted in deification of nature in its various powers, and of the
earthly life: but this worship, which fancy, among other nations, darkened with
hideous shapes hardening the heart to cruelty, assumed among this people a form of

86 A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA.

grandeur, dignity, and mildness. Here superstition, elsewhere the tyrant of human
endowments, seemed glad to lend a hand to their most free development; it cherished
the art by which it was adorned, and out of idols grew ideals.

But greatly as the Greeks succeeded in the Beautiful and even the Moral, we can
concede to their culture no higher character than that of a refined and dignified sen-
suality. Of course this must be understood in the general and in the gross. Occa-
sional dim forebodings of philosophers, lightning-gleams of poetic inspiration, these
form the exception. Man can never altogether turn his back upon the Infinite; some
evanid recollections will testify of the home he has lost; but the point to be considered
is, what is the predominant tendency of his endeavours?

Religion is the root of man’s being. Were it possible for him to renounce all
religion, even that which is unconscious and independent of the will, he would become
all surface, no heart nor soul. Shift this centre in any degree, in the same degree
will the system of the mind and affections be modified in its entire line of effect.

And this was brought about in Kurope by the introduction of Christianity. This
sublime and beneficent religion regenerated the decrepit worn-out old world, became
the leading principle in the history of the modern nations, and at this day, when many
conceit themselves to have out-grown its guidance, they are more influenced by it, in
their views of all human affairs, than they are themselves aware.

Next to Christianity, the mental culture of Europe, since the commencement of
the middle ages, was decidedly influenced by the German race of northern invaders,
who infused new quickening into a degenerated age. The inclemency of northern
nature drives the man more inward upon himself, and what is lost in sportive develop-
ment of the sensitive being is amply compensated, wherever there are noble endow-
ments, in earnestness of spirit. Hence the frank heartiness with which the old
German tribes welcomed Christianity; so that among no other race of men has it
penetrated so deeply into the inner man, approved itself so energetic in its effects, and
so interwoven itself with all human sensibilities.

The rugged but honest heroism of the northern conquerors, by admixture of Chris-
tian sentiments, gave rise to chivalry, the object of which was to guard the practice of
arms, by vows which were looked upon as sacred, from that rude and base abuse of
force into which it is so apt to decline.

One ingredient in the chivalrous virtue was a new and more delicate spirit of
love, considered as an enthusiastic homage to genuine female excellence, which was
now for the first time revered as the acme of human nature, and, exalted as it was by
religion under the form of virgin maternity, touched all hearts with an undefinable
intimation of the mystery of pure love.

As Christianity did not, like the heathen worship, content itself with certain
exterior performances, but laid claim to the whole inner man with all its remotest
thoughts and imaginations, the feeling of moral independence took refuge in the domain
of honour; a kind of secular morality which subsisted along with that of religion,
and often came in collision therewith, but yet akin to it in so far as it never calculated
consequences, but attached absolute sanctity to principles of action elevated as articles
of faith above all inquisition of a misplaced ratiocination.

Chivalry, love, and honour are, together with religion itself, the subjects of that
natural poetry which poured itself forth with incredible copiousness in the middle
ages, and preceded a more conscious and thoughtful cultivation of the romantic spirit.
This ra too had its mythology, consisting in chivalrous fables and religious legends,
but its marvellous and its heroism formed a perfect contrast to those of the ancient
mythology.

A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA. 87

Some writers, in other respects agreeing with us in our conception and derivation
of the peculiar character of the moderns, have placed the essence of the northern
poetry in melancholy, and, rightly understood, we have no objection to this view of
the matter.

Among the Greeks, human nature was self-satisfied; it had no misgiving of defect,
and endeavoured after no other perfection than that which it actually could attain by
the exercise of its own energies. A higher wisdom teaches us that human nature,
through a grievous aberration, has lost the position originally assigned to it, and that
the sole destination of its earthly existence is to struggle back thither, which, however,
left to itself, it cannot. The old religion of the senses did but wish to earn outward
perishable blessings ; immortality, as far as it was believed, stood shadow-like in the
obscure distance, a faded dream of this sunny waking life. Under the Christian view,
it is just the reverse: the contemplation of the infinite has annihilated the finite ;
life has become the world of shadows, the night of being; the eternal day of essential
existence dawns only beyond the grave. Under such a religion, that mysterious fore-
boding which slumbers in every feeling heart cannot but be-wakened into distinct
consciousness that we are in quest of a happiness which is unattainable here, that no
external object will ever be altogether able to fill the capacity of the soul, that all
enjoyment is a fleeting illusion. And when the soul sits down, as it were, beside
these waters of Babylon, and breathes forth its longing aspirations towards the home
from which it has become estranged, what else can be the key-note of its songs but
heaviness of heart? And so it is. The poetry of the ancients was that of possession,
ours is that of longing desire: the one stands firm on the soil of the present; the
other wavers betwixt reminiscence of the past, and bodeful intimations of the future.
Let not this be understood to imply that all must flow away in monotonous lamenta-
tion, the melancholy always uttering itself audibly, and drowning all besides. As
under that cheerful view of things which the Greeks took, that austere Tragedy of
theirs was still a possible phenomenon ; so that romantic poetry, which originated in
the different views I have been describing, could run along the whole scale of the
feelings, even up to the highest note of joy; but still there will always be an inde-
scribable something in which it shall carry the marks of its origin. The feeling of the
moderns has, on the whole, become more deep and inward, the fancy more incorporeal,
the thoughts more contemplative. To be sure, in nature the boundaries run into one
another, and the things are not so sharply defined as one is under the necessity of
doing in order to eliminate a theoretical idea.

The Grecian ideal of human nature was, perfect unison and proportion of all
powers, natural harmony. The moderns, on the contrary, have arrived at the con-
sciousness of the disunion there is within, which renders such an ideal no longer
possible ; hence the endeavour of their poetry is to make these two worlds, between
which we feel ourselves te be divided, the world of sense and the world of spirit, at
one with each other, and to blend them indissolubly together. The impressions of
sense shall be hallowed, as it were, by their mysterious league with higher feelings,
while the spirit will deposit its bodings or indescribable intuitions of the infinite, in
types and emblems derived from the phenomena of the visible world.

In Grecian art and poetry there is an original unconscious unity of form*and
matter; the modern, so far as it has remained faithful to its own proper spirit,
attempts to bring about a more thorough interpenetration of both, considered as two
opposites. The former solved its problem to perfection, the latter can satisfy its
ad infinitum endeavour only in a way of approximation, and by reason of a certain
semblance of incompleteness, is the rather in danger of being misappreciated.

88 A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA.

* * * * * * * * *

What is dramatic? To many the answer may seem obvious: ‘ Where different
persons are introduced speaking, but the poet himself does not speak in his own
proper person.’ But this is no more than the exterior pre-requisite of the form; the
form is that of dialogue. But the persons of a dialogue may express thoughts and
sentiments without operating a change on each other, and so may leave off at last
each in the same mind as at the beginning; in such a case, however interesting the
matter of the discussion may be, it cannot be said to excite any dramatic interest.
I will exemplify this in the philosophic dialogue, a quiet species of discussion not
intended for the stage. In Plato, Socrates asks the inflated sophist Hippias, “ What
is the beautiful?” He is forthwith prepared with his shallow answer, but presently
finds himself compelled by Socrates’ ironical objections to abandon his first definition,
and stumble about clutching after other ideas, and finally to quit the field, shamed by
the exposure of his ignorance, and out of temper at finding more than his match in
the philosopher. Now, this dialogue is not merely instructive in a philosophical
point of view, but entertaining as a drama in miniature. And justly has this lively
progress in the thoughts, this stretch of expectation for the issue, in one word, this
dramatic character, been extolled in the dialogues of Plato.

Hence already we are in a condition to apprehend wherein the great eharm of
dramatic poetry consists. Activity is the true enjoyment of life, nay more, is life
itself. Mere passive enjoyments may lull into a listless complacency, which however,
if there be any stirrings of interior sensibility, cannot long be free from the inroad of
ennui. Now, most people by their position in life, or, it may be, from incapacity for
extraordinary exertions, are tethered within a narrow round of insignificant engage-
ments. Day follows day, one like another, under the sleepy rule of custom; life
progresses without perceptible motion, the rushing stream of the youthful passions
stagnating into a morass. From the self-dissatisfaction which this occasions, they
seek to make their escape in all kinds of games, which always consist in some occu-
pation, some self-imposed task, in which there are difficulties to be overcome, but
withal not troublesome. Now, of all games, the play is unquestionably the most
entertaining. We see others act, if we cannot act to any great purpose ourselves.
The highest subject of human activity is man, and in the play we see men measuring
their powers upon each other as friends or foes; influencing each other in their capa-
city of rational and moral beings, through the medium of opinion, sentiment, and
passion ; definitely ascertaining their mutual relations, and bringing them to a decisive
position. By abstraction and pretermission of all that is not essential to the matter
in hand, namely, of all those daily wants and consequent petty distractions which in
real life break in upon the progress of essential actions, the poet contrives to con-
dense within small compass much that excites attention and expectation. Thus he
gives us a picture of life that resuscitates the days of youth, an extract of what is
moving and progressive in human existence.

But this is not all. Even in lively oral narration it is common to introduce the
persons speaking, and to vary tone and expression accordingly. But the gaps which
these speeches would leave in the hearers’ mental picture of the story, the narrator
fills up by a description of the,concomitant actions or other incidents, in his own
name. The dramatic poet foregoes this assistance, but finds abundant compensation
in the following invention. He requires that each of the characters of his story
should be personated by a living individual; that this individual should, in sex, age,
and form, come as near as may be to the fictitious individual of the story, nay,
should assume his entire personality; that he should accompany every speech with

A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA. 89

the appropriate expression of voice, mien, and gesture, and moreover annex thereto
those visible actions, of which otherwise the audience would need to be apprised
by narrative. Still farther: these vicegerents of the creatures of his imagination
are required to appear in the costume belonging to their assumed rank, and
to the times and country in which they lived: partly for the sake of closer resem-
blance ; partly, because even in dress there is something characteristic. Lastly, he
requires that they should be environed by a locality in some measure similar to that in
which he makes the incidents to have taken place, because this also helps to realize the
fiction ; that is to say, he will have scenery. Now here is a theatre complete. It is
plain that the very form of dramatic poetry, that is, the exhibition of an action by
dialogue without the aid of narrative, implies the theatre as the necessary complement.
We grant, there are dramatic works not originally designed for the stage, and indeed
not likely to be particularly effective there, which nevertheless read excellently. But
I very greatly question whether they would make the same vivid impression upon
a reader who had never witnessed a play nor heard one described. We are habituated,
in reading dramatic compositions, to fancy to ourselves the acting.

The invention of the theatre and theatrical art seems a yery obvious and natural
one. Man has a great turn for mimic imitation ; in all lively transposing of himself
into the situation, sentiments, and passions of others, he assimilates himself to them
in his exterior, whether he will or no. Children are perpetually going out of them-
selves; it is one of their favourite sports to copy the grown people they have oppor-
tunity of observing, or indeed whatever else comes into their heads; and with their
happy pliancy of imagination, they can make all alike serve their turn, to furnish
them with the insignia of the assumed dignity, be it that of a father, a schoolmaster,
oraking. There remains but one step more to the invention of the Drama; namely,
to draw the mimic elements and fragments clear off from real life, and confront the
latter with these collectively in one mass; yet in many nations this step never was
taken. In the very copious description of ancient Egypt in Herodotus and others,
T do not recollect any indication of this. The Etruscans on the contrary, so like the
Egyptians in many other particulars, had their theatrical games, and, singular enough,
the Etruscan term for ‘‘actor,” histrio, has survived in living languages even to the
most recent times. The whole of Western Asia, the Arabians and Persians, rich as
their poetical literature is in other departments, know not the Drama. Neither did
Europe in the middle ages: upon the introduction of Christianity the old dramas of
the Greeks and Romans were set aside, partly because they had reference to heathen
ideas, partly because they had degenerated into shameless immorality; nor did they
revive until nearly a thousand years later. So late as the fourteenth century we find
in that very complete picture which Boccaccio has given of the then existing frame of
society, no trace whatever of plays. Instead of them they had simply their Conteurs,
Menestriers, and Jonglewrs. On the other hand, it must by no means be supposed that
the invention of the Drama was made only once in the world, and was passed along
from one nation to another. The English circumnavigators found among the
islanders of the Southern Ocean (a people occupying so low a grade in point of intel-
lectual capacity and civilisation) a rude kind of drama, in which a common incident of
life was imitated well enough to be diverting. To pass to the other extremity of the
world; that nation from which perhaps all the civilisation of the human race emanated,
I mean the Indians, had their dramas for ages before that country was subjected to
any foreign influence. They possess a copious dramatic literature, the age of which
ascends backward nearly two thousand years. Of their plays (Nataks) we are at
present acquainted with one specimen only, the charming Sacontala, which, with all

90 A. W. SCHLEGEL’S GENERAL SURVEY OF THE DRAMA.

the foreign colouring of its native climate, in its general structure bears such striking
resemblance to our romantic drama, that we might suspect the translator, Sir William
Jones, of having laboured to produce the resemblance, out of his partiality for
Shakspeare, were not the fidelity of his translation attested by other scholars. In the
golden times of India the exhibition of these Nataks delighted the splendid imperial
court at Delhi; but under the misery of their many oppressions, dramatic art in that
country seems at present to lie extinct. The Chinese, on the contrary, have their
standing national theatre: standing indeed, it may be conjectured, in every sense:
I make no question but in the establishment of arbitrary rules and nice observance of
unimportant conventionalities they leave the most correct of the Europeans far
behind them.

With all this extensive diffusion of theatrical entertainments, it is surprising to
find what a difference there exists in point of dramatic talent between nations equally
favoured in other respects. The talent for the Drama would seem to be a peculiar
quality, essentially distinct from the gift of poetry in general. The contrast between
the Greeks and Romans in this respect is not to be wondered at; for the Greeks were
quite a nation of artists, the Romans a practical people. Among the latter, the fine
arts were introduced only as a corrupting article of luxury, both betokening and
accelerating the degeneracy of the times. This luxury they carried out on so large
a scale, in respect of the theatre, that perfection in essentials must have been neglected
in the rage for meretricious accessories. Even among the Greeks dramatic talent was
any thing but universal: in Athens the Theatre was invented, in Athens it was ex-
clusively brought to perfection. The Doric dramas of Epicharmus form but an
inconsiderable exception to this remark, All the great dramatic geniuses of Greece
were born in Attica, and formed their style at Athens. Widely as the Grecian race
diffused itself, felicitously as it cultivated the fine arts almost wherever it came, yet
beyond the bounds of Attica it was fain to admire, without being able to compete
with, the productions of the Attic stage.

* * * * *

BGO KL.

LITERARY HISTORY OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

CHAPTER. +L.

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS.

SECTION I.

CHGRILUS, PHRYNICHUS, AND PRATINAS.

Use begets Use.
GUESSES AT TRUTH.

S soon as Tragedy had once established itself in Greece, it
made very rapid advances to perfection. According to the
received dates, the first exhibition of Thespis preceded by ten
years only the birth of Auschylus, who in his younger days con-
tended with the three immediate successors of the Icarian, CuHa-
RILUS began to represent plays in the 64th Ol. 523 B.c.1, and in
499 B.c. contended for the prize with Pratinas and Adschylus.
It is stated that he contended with Sophoeles also, but the dif-
ference in their ages renders this exceedingly improbable, and the
mistake may easily have arisen from the way in which Suidas
mentions the book on the chorus which Sophocles wrote against
him and Thespis*. It would seem that Tragedy had not altogether
departed from its original form in his time, and that the chorus
1 Xorpidos, ’A@nvatos, tparyixds, £5° dNummidde Kabels els aySvas Kal édldate pev
Spdwara wevtijKovra Kal p’. évixnoe be vy’. Suidas.

2 See Nike’s Cherilus, p. 7. Suidas: Logoxdjs éypave Adyov Karadoyddnv trepl
Tov Xopod mpds Odorw Kal Xoupidov ayarrfouevos.

92 CH@RILUS, PHRYNICHUS, AND PRATINAS.

was still satyric, or ¢ragic in the proper sense of the word!.
Cheerilus is said to have written 150 pieces?, but no fragments
have come down to us. The disparaging remarks of Hermeas
and Proclus do not refer to him, but to his Samian namesake’,
and he is mentioned by Alexis‘ in such goodly company, that we
cannot believe that his poetry was altogether contemptible. One
of his plays was called the Alope, and it appears to have been
of a strictly mythical character®. Some improvements in theatrical
costume are ascribed to him by Suidas and Eudocia®,

PHRYNICHUS was the son of Polyphradmon, and a scholar of
Thespis?. The dates of his birth and death are alike unknown:
it seems probable that he died in Sicily’. He gained a tragic
victory in 511 B.c.°, and another in 476, when Themistocles was
his choragus”: the play which he produced on this occasion was
probably the Phcenisse, and Adschylus is charged" with having
made use of this tragedy in the composition of his Perse, which
appeared four years after, a charge which A®schylus seems-to
rebut in “the Frogs” of Aristophanes*. In 494 3B. c. Miletus
was taken by the Persians, and Phrynichus, unluckily for himself,

1 quixa joey Baorreds ijv Xowpidos &v Latipos. Anonym. ap. Plotium de Thetris,
p- 2633.
2 The numbers in Suidas are, however, in this instance, not to be depended on, as
they are not the same in all the MSS.

3 See Nike’s Cherilus, p. 92.

4 Athen. Iv. p. 164 0:
*Oppeds everrw, ‘Holodos, tpaywola,
Xotpios, “Ounpos, ’Erixapmos, ovyypaymara
Ilayrodard.

® Pausan. I. 14, $3: Xowpihy 6é "AOnvalw Spdua rowjoavte ’ANdanv ear’ eipnudva
pL elvat kal TpimTddemov ddeAgovs, K.T.r.

6 otros ard Twas Tots rpotwretos Kal TH oKEUH TOY GTONGY érexelpnce.

7 Ppbyixos, Woduppddsuovos, 7} Muvpov' of 5€ Xopoxdéovs' ’AOnvatos, rparyixds,
babyrns Oéoridos. Suidas in Ppvy.

The first of the names mentioned here for the father of Phrynichus is the correct
one. See Schol. Arist. Av. 750; Pausan. X. 31, 2, The name also appears under the
form Phradmon. Prol, Aristoph. p, xxix.

8 Clinton, /. H. Vol. 11. p. xxxi, note (t).

9 vixa éml ris Ef dNuumiddos. Suidas. im

° "Evixnoe 6é [Ocueoroxnfjs | Kal Xopnyav Tpaypoois, peyadny 76n TOTE crovdyy Kal
eb ToU ayavos éxovros. Kat maka Tis vixns avébnke, ToLAdT ap emeypapihy
eX ovTa,* —Oeutor oh 7s ped psios Exopiyyet, Pptvexos edldacxer, ’Adeluavros prev.
Plutarch, in Themist. ec. v.

11 By Glauecus, in his work on the subjects of the plays of Alschylus: see Arg, ad
Persas.

a3 aN ov eyo pev és TO Kaddv ék TOU Kadod
qveyxov av?’, iva uh Tov abrov Ppuvixw
ActuGva MovoGy iepov dpbelnv Spérwv. Ran. 1294—1296.

CHGRILUS, PHRYNICHUS, AND PRATINAS. 93

selected the capture of that city as the subject of a historical
tragedy. The skill of the dramatist, and the recent occurrence
of the event, affected the audience even to tears, and Phrynichus
was fined 1000 drachme for having recalled so forcibly a painful
recollection of the misfortunes of an ally’, We have already
mentioned the introduction of female characters into Tragedy by
Phrynichus: he seems, however, to have been chiefly remarkable
for the sweetness of his melodies”, and the great variety and
cleverness of his figure dances’. The Aristophanic Agathon
speaks generally of the beauty of his dramas‘, though of course
they fell far short of the grandeur of Atschylus®, and the perfect
art of Sophocles. The names of seventeen tragedies attributed

1 ’AOnvatoe pev yap Shrov eroincay brepaxPecbevres TH MeAqjrov adwoe, TH TE GAA
Todaxh, Kal 5) mwoujoavte Ppvixy Spaua Midjrov dhuow, kal dvddéavre, és Sdxpud TE
érece Td Oénrpov, Kal e(nuiwody ww, ws dvauvizavTa olKnia Kakd, xuAtnoe Spaxyjov Kal
érératay wnxére undéva xpacba TovTw TE Spduare. Herod, VI. 21.

3 *Evéev, womepel méutTAa,

Ppvyixos apBpocluwv
wedéwy dmeBdoxeTo Kaptov, del
pépwv yuketay gddy, Aristoph. Av. 748.
Philocleon, the old Dicast, as we are told by the chorus of his brethren,
hryetr’ dv diwy Ppuvixov' Kal ydp éoTw avip
pirybds. Vesp. 269.
And a little before, these fellow-dicasts are represented by Bdelycleon as summoning
their aged colleague at midnight.
vasawe pwuplfovres men
dpxatomeNigidwvogpuvixnpaTra. V. 219.
Tlapa 7& wédn kal rhy Lidava Kal rdv Ppivixov wal Ta cpura emer, olov apxata wédn
Powixov épara kal ydea...Ppivixos de eyévero Tpaywolas mounts, bs eéypape Opaua
Powicoas, ev & uduvnrae Tidwviwy. Ta 5é wédy [70 dE med?) etre 5d Thy yAuKUTATA
Tod monrod. Schol. in loc. “ Scribendum—péAc—cum Suida in dpxatos et pevuplfw.
Quod Aristarchum in codiee suo legisse ex annotatione Scholiasta cognoscitur. Aves,
748: &ev domepel péditra Pptvixos x.7.d.”—Dindorf. See above, p. 64, note 6.

3 Plutarch (Symp. r. g) has preserved part of an epigram, said to have been
written by the dramatist himself, in which he thus commemorates the fruitfulness of
his fancy in devising figure-dances :

Uyxipara 8 Spxnots Téca por wépev, Bao’ Eri movTw
Kiara mocetrar xeluate vdE ddo7.

4 Thesmophor. 164 sqq.

5 'The difference between Phrynichus and Aischylus is distinctly stated in several
passages of the Rane:

seseee TOUS GeaTas
éinmdra, wwpods haBdv rapa Ppuvixy Tpapévras. Og.
Upon which the Scholiast remarks, drareov yap, ws dpedéarepos 6 Ppivixos.

The same fact is also forcibly declared in the address of the Chorus to Aaschylus
in the same comedy :

GN & rpGros Trav ‘Eve wupydoas piuata cewva
kal Koopjoas TpayiKov Afjpov. 1004.

That the word \fpos does not imply anything merely comical and ludicrous in the

tragedies before Alschylus, is clear from the use of the word Anpelv, in V. 923.

94 CHGRILUS, PHRYNICHUS, AND PRATINAS.

to him have come down to us, but it is probable that some of
these belonged to the other two writers who bore the same name.

We learn from Suidas the following particulars respecting
Pratinas. He was a Phliasian, the son of Pyrrhonides or En-
comius, a tragedian, and the opponent of Cheerilus and AXschylus,
when the latter first represented. As we have already stated’,
he was the first writer of satyrical dramas as a distinct species of
entertainment; and we may connect this circymstance with the
place of his birth; for Phlius was near Corinth and Sicyon, the
cradles of the old tragedies of Arion and Epigenes. On one
occasion, while he was acting, his wooden stage gave way, and
in consequence of that accident, the Athenians built a stone theatre.
He exhibited fifty dramas, of which thirty-two were satyrical.
The Phliasians seem to have taken great delight in these per-
formances of their countryman’, and according to Pausanias’,
erected a monument in the market-place in honour of “ Aristias,
the son of Pratinas, who with his father excelled all except
Aaschylus in writing satyrical dramas.” Pratinas also wrote
Hyporchemes*. His son Aristias inherited his father’s talents,
and competed with Sophocles®.

1 Above, p. 69.

? See Schneider, De Orig. Trag. p. go. SSTIeys

“ Athen. XIv. p. 617 ¢: IIparivas 8¢ 6 Pdsdovos, avdnrav Kal xopeuray pc Dopdpav
karexovTww Tas opxnoTpas, dyavaxrety Twas émt TS Tods abdynTas sh cuvavdely Tots
Xopots, KaOdrep jv mdrprov, GANG Tovs Xopods cuvgdew Tots avAnrats’ dv oby elye Bumdv
kara T&v Tadra TovotvTew 6 IIparivas éugavifer dia Tovde Tod tropxjnmatos. Tis 6
ObpuBos bbe, K.7T.X.

Miiller suggests (Hist. Lit. Gir. 1. p. 295 [390]) that this Hyporcheme may have
occurred in a satyrical drama. But we have seen above, PP- 35) 69, that the Satyric
corresponded rather to the Pyrrhic than to the Hyporchematic dance.

5 Auct. Vit. Sophocl.

CHAPTER TI.

SECTION II.

ZESCHYLUS.

Et digitis tria tura tribus sub limine ponit.
OvID.

SCHYLUS, the son of Euphorion, was born at Eleusis!, in

the fourth year of the 63rd Olympiad (B.c. 525). In his
boyhood he was employed in a vineyard, and, while engaged in
watching the grapes, with his mind full of his occupation, and
inspired with reverence for the god of the vintage, felt himself
suddenly called upon to follow the bent of his own genius, and
contribute to the spectacles which had just been established at
Athens in honour of Dionysus*. He made his first appearance as

1 Vit. Anonym., given in Stanley’s edition of this poet, and the Arundel Marble.
The invocation to the Eleusinian goddess, which he is made to utter by Aristophanes,
may refer to the place of his birth:

Ajunrep, 7 Opévaca ri euny dpéva,
Hival we t&v cGy Gévov pvornpiov. Rane, 884.

These lines would seem to show that he had been initiated into the mysteries,
which is quite at variance with the defence which he set up when accused before the
Areopagus. See Clem. Al. quoted below.

2 "Edy 6@ Aloxtdos metpdxiov dv Kxabevdew ev dyp@ prddocwy oradudds, Kal ol
Atévucov émirrdvra, Kedetoae Tpaywodlay tovely. ws bé Av hucpa (welBecOar yap ébédewv)
pdora Hon meipdmevos oreiv. ovTos ev Tabra éeyer. Pausan. I. 21, 2.

To this employment of the poet were probably owing the habits of intemperance
with which he has been charged, and also his introduction on the stage of characters
in a state of drunkenness. Athenzus tells us (X. p. 428): Kal roy Aloxvdor eyo palnv
av rotro Siapaprdvew* mpOros yap éxeivos Kai ox, ws Evol dacw, Evpimlins mapriyyaye
Thy Tov pebvovrwv byw els Tpaywolay. &v yap Tots KaBetpors elodyer Tods mepl Tov
Idoova peOvovras. a 8 adros 6 Tpaywdiorows érole, Tatra Tois jpwor meptéOnKe’
peOiwv yoov eypade ras Tpaywolas’ 516 Kal LopokAjs air@ peupdpevos Eeyev dru, “Q
Alcxtre, el cal Ta Séovra more’s, GAN ody ovk eldws ye Motels” ws ioropet Napaiéwy ev
7G mept Alox’dov. The same observation of Sophocles is given in the same words,
I. p. 22, and is probably taken, as Welcker suggests (Z'ril. p. 254, note) from Sopho-
cles’ treatise on the chorus.

This failing is also mentioned by Plutarch: cal rév Aloxvdov gaol rpaywolas
mlvovra moiv Kat diadepuawduevov. Symp. 1. 5; by Callisthenes: of ydp, ws Tov

96 ZESCHYLUS.

a tragedian in B.c. 499', when, as we have already stated, he con-
tended with Cheerilus and Pratinas. Nine years after this he dis-
tinguished himself in the battle of Marathon’, along with his
brothers Cynegeirus and Ameinias, and the poet, who prided him-
self upon his valour more than upon his genius, looked back to
this as to the most glorious action of his life’. In 484 B.c. he
gained his first tragic victory, and in 480 B.c. took part in the
battle of Salamis, in which Ameinias gained the dpsoreta: he also
fought at Plata. He celebrated the glorious contests which he
had witnessed, in a tragic trilogy with which he gained the prize
(472 B.c.)*. After all that has been written on the subject®, we
are of opinion that Auschylus made only two journeys to Sicily.
The first was in 468 B.c. according to the express testimony of
Plutarch®; and took place immediately after his defeat by young
Sophocles, though it is difficult to believe Plutarch’s assertion,
that he left Athens in disgust at this indignity. As, however, it
is stated that he went to the court of Hiero’, and brought out a
play at Syracuse to please that king, who died in 467 B.c., he
must, if he was at Athens to contend with Sophocles, have started
for Sicily immediately after the decision; and he was then at

Aicxtdov 6 Kadd\cobévns pn mov, Nywy Tas Tpaywilas év olvw ypapew, éLopudvra cal
dvabeppalvoyra tiv Wuxiv. Lucian, Kncom. Demosth.; and by Eustathius, Odyss. 6’.
p. 1598.

That he subsequently departed from his original reverence for the religion of
Bacchus, we shall show in the text, and this was probably occasioned by his military
connexion with the Dorians, and the love which he then acquired for the Dorian
character and institutions.

1 Suidas in Alcy.

2° Ev pdxn cuvnyevicato Aloxtdos 6 roinrhs [ér]@[v} ay AAATI. Marm. Arund.
No. 49; Vit. Anonym.

3 Pausan. Attic, 1. 4; Atheneus, XIv. p. 627. In the epitaph which he is said to
have composed for himself, he makes no mention of his tragedies, and speaks only of
his warlike achievements:

Alaxtnrov Etgoplwvos “A@nvatoy rbde KevOer
Mya karapOluevov mupopdpoo Védas.

"AXki 8 evddxiywov Mapabdriovy ddoos ay elirot,
Kai Baévxairjets Majdos értardmevos.

4 Gruppe thinks (Ariadne, p. 154) that the Prometheus was acted first at Syra-
cuse, and afterwards at Athens, under the poet’s own superintendence: the Pevrseis,
which we are here alluding to, first at Athens, and afterwards in Sicily.

5 By Bockh, de Grace Tragadie Principibus, c. Iv. v.; Blomfield. Pref. Pers.
pp- xvi sqq.; Hermann, de Fumen. Choro, 11. pp. 155 sqq.; Welcker, Trilogie, pp. 516
fol. ; Lange, de Aischyli Vitd, pp. 15 sqq.

6 Plutarch, Cimon, Vit.

7 ’Ampe 5é els ‘Iépwva tov Suxedias tépavvov. Vit. Anonym. So Pausanias: Kai * *
és Xupaxovoas mpds ‘Tépwva Aloxv’dos kal Siuwvldns éorddyoay. 1. 2. Also Plutarch:
Kal yap cal obros [Aloxtnos] els SixeNay amie cal Syuwvldyns mpbrepov. De Evilio.

ESCHYLUS. 97.

Athens, if Plutarch has given us correct information. He probably
spent some time in Sicily on his first visit, as would appear from
the numbers of Sicilian words which are found in his later plays’.
The other journey to Sicily he is said to have made ten years
after (458 B.c.), and for this a very sufficient reason has been
assigned. In that year he brought out the Orestean trilogy; and
in the Eumenides, the last play of the trilogy, showed so openly
his opposition to the politics of Pericles and his abettor Ephialtes?,
that his abode at Athens might easily have been made not only
unpleasant, but even unsafe, especially as his fondness for the
Dorian institutions, his aristocratical spirit, and his adoption of the
politics of Aristeides, had doubtless made him long before obnoxi-
ous to the demagogues.

He died at Gela two years after the representation of the
Orestea, i.e. in B.c. 456°. It is said‘, that an eagle having mis-
taken his bald head for a stone, dropped a tortoise upon it in order
to break the shell, and that the poet was killed by the blow: but
the story is evidently an invention, most unnecessarily devised to
account for the natural death of a persecuted exile nearly seventy
years old.

Another reason has been assigned for Auschylus’ second journey
to Sicily. It is founded on a statement, alluded to by Aristotle’,
and given more distinctly by Clemens Alexandrinus and A¢lian’®,

1 Ovd« dryvod bé, bre of mepl Thy DikedNav Karotxotvres AoXEDwWpoY KaNodor TOY
ctaypov. Aloxddos yoiv év Popxict, wapexagwy rdv Mepoéa rg dyply rovrwy vl, nol
"Kou & és dvrpov aoxédwpos ws.

"Ori 5é Aloxddos, Starplpas év Dixedlg wodrrais xéxpynrat Pwvais DiKedais,
ovdév Oavuacréy. Athen. Ix. p. 402 B.—To the same effect Eustathius: Xpjows dé
g~acw doxedwpou map Aloxthy Siarplpavre év TixeNig Kai eiddt:. Ad Odyss. p. 1872.
—And Macrobius: Ita et Dii Palici in Sicilia coluntur; quos primum omnium
Aaschylus tragicus, vir utique Siculus, in literas dedit, &c. &e. Saturnal. Vv. 19.

Some Sicilian forms are to be found in his extant plays: thus, reddpovos, redaly-
pot, meddopor, udoowr, wad, &e. for perdpovos, meralxmcor, meTéwpor, melfwv, wAjrep, &e,
See Blomfield, Prom. Vine. 277, Gloss., and Béckh, de T’rag. Gree. c. Vv.

2 See Miiller’s Humeniden, § 35 fol.

3 Ad’ ov Aioxt’dos 6 roinrys, Buscas érn [AJATIIIII, éreredrnce é&v [TA]e rijs
[Zc]kedlas rn H[AJAAAATII, dpxovros ’AOjvycr KadXiov rod wporépov. Mar. Arund.
No. 50.

4 Vit. Anonym. ; Suidas in Xeddvy pvdv; Valer. Max. 1x.2; Atlian, Hist. A nimal.
Vit..56.

5 Ethic. Wt. 1: 8 6€ mpdrret, dyvoncerey ay res* olov Néyovrés Pacw éxmecety avbrovs,
ovK eldévar OTe amdppnta jv, wowep AlioxXUAOS Ta MUGTLKG.

8 Aicxdnos (says Clemens) ra pvornpia érl oxnvis éfermav, ev ’Apely mdyy Kpibels
ovTws adelcOn, érideitas atrov wh menunuévov. Strom. 11.—Atlian tells the tale in a
somewhat different way ; a more romantic one.of course: AloxUXos 6 Tpaywdds Explvero
doeBeias ert rit Spdwart. ‘Eroluwy oby dvrwy AOnvalwv, Bdddew adrdv AlOo.s, “Amet-

Dorit G. 7

98 ZESCHYLUS.

that Alschylus was accused of impiety before the Areopagus, and
acquitted, as Aulian says, in consequence of the services of his
brother Ameinias, or, according to Aristotle and Clemens, because
he pleaded ignorance. Eustratius tells us* from Heraclides Ponti-
cus that he would have been slain on the stage by the infuriated
populace, had he not taken refuge at the altar of Bacchus; and
that he was acquitted by the Areopagus in consequence of his
brother Cynegetrus’ intercession. This reason for his second de-
parture from Athens is quite in accordance with the former; for if
he had incurred the ill will of the people and the demagogues,
nothing was more natural than that he should have been made
amenable to the same charges, which a similar faction afterwards
brought against Alcibiades*. And there is something in the m-
tervention of the Areopagus, between the people and their intended
victim, which may at once account for the attempt to overthrow it,
which, we conceive, shortly followed this trial, as also for the bold
stand which /Mschylus made on behalf of that tribunal.

There are great discrepancies respecting the number of plays
written by Alschylus. The writer of the life prefixed to his
remains assigns seventy plays to him, Suidas ninety, and Fabricius
more than 100. Of these, only seven remain.

The most remarkable improvements which A‘schylus intro-
duced into Tragedy are the following: he added a second actor,
limited the functions ofthe chorus, and gave them a more artificial
character: he made the dialogue, which he created by the addition
of a second actor, the principal part of the drama’*: he provided

vlas 6 vewrepos dbeApbs, Siaxahupduevos TO idriov edecke THY THXUY Epnuov THS XeELpos.
*Eruxe 5€ apictevwy év Dadapin 6 ’Amewlas droBeBrAnkas Thy xeEipa, Kal mp@ros °AOy-
valuy Tay apioteluw ervxev. "Emel 6é eldov of Sikacral Tov avipos 7d wabos, breuvyncOy-
cay Toy épyav adbrod Kal adjKav Tov Aicxtdov. Var. Hist, v. 19.

' In his commentary on Aristotle, doc. cit, fol. 40. He mentions the names of
five plays on which these charges were founded, the Toforldes, the Tepelas, the Licuos
merpokurtoT Hs, the "Imuyéveca, and the Oldimous. But we know nothing of the dates of
these plays. Comp. Welcker, Zril. 106, 276.

2 Thucyd. v1. 53; Andocid. de Myster. Comp. Droysen, in the Rhein. Musewm
for 1835, pp. 161 fol.

3 These first three improvements are stated by Aristotle, Poet. c. Iv. 16 (below,
Pagt 11.): kal 76 re Ty UroKpirev wAAOos €& Evds els SUO mpwros Alaxvdos yyaye,
kal Ta TOU Xopod HrAdTTwWoE Kal Tov Nbyov TpwraywrioTiv Taperkevace. The first is
given also by Diogen. Laert. Vit. Plat.: Oéomts va broxpirhy é&etpev...xal devrepov —
Aisxv\os. The names of his two actors are given in an old life prefixed to one of the
editions. “Expijcaro 6é broxpitay mpdrov péev Keddvipy...... devrepov avT@ mpbonpe
Midmoxov tov Xadxidéa. Hermann has made an extraordinary blunder with regard
to the latter part of the quotation from Aristotle: he has actually supposed that
mpwraywvicrny is an epithet, though it is obvious from the position of the article, that

FESCHYLUS. 99

his Tragedy with all sorts of imposing spectacles’, and intro-
duced the custom of contending with Trilogies, or with three plays
at a time. He seems also to have improved the theatrical costumes,
and to have made the mask more expressive and convenient, while
he increased the stature of the performers by giving them thick
soled boots (4pB8vXat, KoPopvot"). In short, he did so much for the
drama, that he was considered as the father of Tragedy’, and his
plays were allowed to be acted after his death‘,

We shall find, in the remaining Tragedies of Aischylus, most
ample confirmation of what we have said respecting his political
opinions, and also of Cicero’s statement, that he was a Pytha-
gorean5, Even the improvements which are due to him are so

it is a tertiary predicate (Donalds. Gr. Gr. 489 sqq.), and is used tropically, just as
Aristotle elsewhere uses yopyyelv, &c. metaphorically. Compare Plut. Mus. p. 667,
Wyttenb.: mpwraywricrotvens THs Tojoews, TOV 8 a’rAnTGv brnpetotvTwy Tots dibacKd-
ots.

1 Primum Agatharchus Athenis, Auschylo docente tragcediam, scenam fecit, et de
eA commentarium reliquit. Vitruv. Pref. Lib. vu.

+ Post hunc ['Thespin] personze palleeque repertor honestz
Aeschylus, et modicis instravit pulpita tignis,
Et docuit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno, MHorat. Epist. ad Pis. 279.
So Suidas: Aicxyvdos evpe rpocwmela Sewda kal ypwpace kexpiomeva exew Tos Tpayi-
kovs, Kal tats dp@vdous, Tats kadoumévats EuBdras, KexpjoGa. The Aristophanic
A®schylus alludes to these improvements in the costumes. Ran. 1060. Compare
Athen. I. p. 21, and Philost. Vit. Apoll. vi. 11: éc@jmaci te mpOros éxdounoe a
mpocpopov npwot re kal qpwicw jnobjcbu. Vit. Gorg. I. g: écOArl Te Ti Tpaywolav
Katackevdoas Kal dxpiBavre bWyAG, Kal Npdwy eideow. There are many allusions to
the ap8vAac of the actors in the Greek Tragedians themselves.
3 —"Odevy ’AOnvaia rarépa pev aitiv THs Tpaywotas yotvTo. Philost. Vit.
Apoll. vi. 11. And thus the Chorus in the Rane address him:
"ANN G mpGros Trav “EANjvev mupydoas ppuata ceurd,
Kal koopjoas tTpayikovy Ajpov. v. 1004.
So Quintilian: Tragcedias primus in lucem Aischylus protulit. x. 1.

4 <-Hxddouv 6@ Kal reOvedra eis Aroviou. Ta yap tod Aicxtd\ov Wydicapévwv
avediddoKero, kal évixa éx kawhs. Philostr. Vit. Apoll. vi. 11.—Also, Vit. Anonym.—
Aristophanes alludes to this custom of re-exhibiting the dramas of Aischylus in the
opening of the Acharnians, where Diczeopolis complains :

GAN wduv7nOnv erepov ab Tparywo.Kdr,

dre 6H KExnvn TpocboKav Tov AicxUXop,

6 0 dveimey’ ‘eicay’, 6 Oéoyu, Tov xopdv.’ v. g Ke.
Upon which the Scholiast remarks: riujjs d€ weylorys eruxe Tapa ’"AOnvaias 6 Aisxu-
hos, kal pdvou avtod Ta Spduara Wydlopare kow@ Kal wera Odvarov édtddoKero. The
allegation of the poet (Rane, 868) :
; “Ore 7 tolnots ovxl cuvTédyynKé fol,
is also supposed by the Scholiast to refer to this decree. Quintilian assigns a very
different reason for this practice, when, speaking of Auschylus as ‘rudis in plerisque et
incompositus,’ he goes on, ‘propter quod correctas ejus fabulas in certamen deferre
posterioribus poetis Athenienses permisere, suntque eo modo multi coronati.’ X..1.
What authority he had for such an assertion does not now appear.” Former Editor.

5 Veniat Aischylus, non poeta solum, sed etiam Pythagoreus; sic enim accepimus.
Cicero, Tusc. Disp. i. 9.
i—2

100 ESCHYLUS.

many proofs of his anti-democratical spirit. For though he seems
to have first turned his attention to the drama, in consequence
of his accidental connexion with the country worship of Bacchus,
yet in all his innovations we shall detect a wish to diminish the
choral or Bacchic element of the Tragedy, and to aggrandize the
other part, by connecting it with the old Homeric Epos, the
darling of the aristocracy: indeed he used to say himself, that
his dramas were but dry scraps from the great banquets of Homer’,
and it was owing to this that he borrowed so little from the Attic
traditions, or from the Heracleia and Theseis, of which Sophocles
and Euripides afterwards so freely availed themselves?. We have
another proof of his willingness to abandon all reference to the
worship of Bacchus in his way of treating the dithyrambic chorus,
which the state gave him as the basis of his Tragedy. He did not
keep all this chorus of fifty men on the stage at once, but broke
it up into subordinate choruses, one or more of which he employed
in each play of his Trilogy*. Even his improvement of the costume
was a part of the same plan; for the more appropriate he made
the costumes of his actors, the farther he departed from the dresses
worn in the Bacchiec processions; which, however, to the last kept
their place on the tragic stage‘. And may not the invention of
the Trilogy have been Biss a part of his attempt to make the yos,
or theatrical declamation’, the principal part in his tragedy (aper-
ayovistns)? We think we could establish this, if our limits
admitted a detailed examination of the principles which governed

‘Tn philosophical sentiments, Auschylus is said to have been a Pythagorean. In
his extant dramas the tenets of this sect may occasionally be traced; as, deep venera-
tion in what concerns the gods, Agam. 360; high regard for the sanctity of an oath
and the nuptial bond, Lumen. 208; the immortality of the soul, Choéph. 320; the
origin of names from imposition and not from nature, Agam. 683; Prom. V. 85, 852;
the importance of numbers, Prom. Vinct. 457; the science of physiognomy, Agam.
769; and the sacred character of suppliants, Suppl. 342; Hum. 226.” Former Editor.

Comp. a paper in the Class. Jowrnal, No, Xxu. pp. 207 fol. ‘‘ On the Philosophical
sentiments of Adschylus.”

1 Athen. VIII. p. 347 E: Ta TOU KaXod kal Nauwmpod Alaxvdov ds Tas adTod Tpayw-
dias Tewdxn elvar EXeve Tay “Opnpou peyddov delrvwr.

2 See Welcker, Z'rilogie, p. 484. In style and representation, however, Sophocles
was much more Homeric than A%schylus, who probably paid attention only to the
mythical materials in general, and according to their Epic connexion. Tvilogie, p. 485.

% See Miiller’s Humeniden, near the beginning of the first essay.

4 Tbid. § 32.

° That this is the meaning of Néyos, in the passage of Aristotle, is sufficiently

clear; for \oyetov was the stage on which the actor, as distinguished from the chorus,
performed,

ZESCHYLUS. 101

the composition of an Auschylean Trilogy!: at present we shall
merely suggest, that the invention of a mpodoyos and a pres,
attributed to Thespis, points to two entrances only of the Thespian
actor; and that the tpsAoyia, in its old sense, may have been
originally a mpodoyos, and two Aoyor or pyoes, instead of one;
consequently, an increase of business for the vzroxpitys. Now,
when A®schylus had added a second actor, each of these Aédyou
became a duddoyos, or Spaua: and it would be natural enough
that Aischylus, if he had the intentions which we have attributed
to him, should expand each of these dvadoyou into a complete play,
and break up the chorus into three parts, assigning one to each
dialogue, and subordinating the whole chorus to the action of the
piece. There is something in favour of this view in the probable
analogy between the first piece of a Trilogy and the prologue of
Thespis, which we consider to have been certainly of less impor-
tance than the pyows. ‘It is credible,” says an ingenious writer’,
“that when the new Trilogy first came out, only the middle piece
received an accurate dialogical and dramatic completion ; whereas,
on the contrary, the introductory and concluding pieces were less
removed from the old form, and besides remained confined to a
more moderate compass.’ This is borne out by all that we know
of the earlier Trilogies of A%schylus, in which the first play has
generally a prophetic reference to the second; and the third,
though important in a moral and religious point of view, is little
more than a finale*, whereas all the stirring interest is concentrated
in the Middle Tragedy: mravti péow TO Kpatos eds @racev, say
the chorus in the Eumenides, and this principle is the key as well
to the trilogy of A&schylus as to the morals of Aristotle. Besides,
the leading distinction between the Aischylean Tragedy and the
Homeric Epos is, that the latter contains an uninterrupted series
of events, whereas the former exhibits the events in detached
groups‘. In this also we are to seek for the relation subsisting
between the drama of Adschylus and the plastic arts, of which he

_ 1 Welcker has done a great deal towards settling this question zsthetically (Ziilo-
gie, pp. 482—540).
2 Gruppe, Ariadne, p. 147; compare Welcker, Trilogie, p. 490. Hermann
(Opuse. 11. p. 313) admits this of the musical importance.

3 See Welcker, 7rd. pp. 491, 492.
4 Ibid. pp. 486 foll.

102 ZSCHYLUS.

was always full, to which he often alludes, and which perhaps he
practised himself*, Now, in all ages of art the pyramidal group
has been considered the most beautiful: the reader need only recal
to his mind the Auginetan pediment, the Laocoon, and the most
beautiful of Raphael’s pictures; for instance, the upper part-of
the Transfiguration, the Sistine Madonna, and the Mater pulcre
dilectionis. It may have been the object of Adschylus to realize
this. But as he always subjoined a satyrical drama to the three
Tragedies, and was very eminent in that species of composition’, he
must have aimed, in his Trilogies, rather at internal symmetry
than at external completeness.

But, in addition to all these evidences, from the general form
of the Tragedies of AXschylus, of a Dorian spirit warring against
their once Dorian element, the chorus; there is no lack of passages
in his plays which point directly to his fondness for the Dorians*
and for Aristeides’, and which show that the maxims of Solon
were deeply engraved on his memory®. It is also highly interest-
ing to trace in his few remaining Tragedies the frequently occurring
allusions to his military and other public employments. For as

1 For instance, Ayamem. 233: mpémovod 0 ws év ypadats.
405: evudppwv 6é KoNoocGy
éxOerar xdpis avdpl.
775: Kdpr dromovcws yr0a yeypaupmevos.
Lumen. 50: eddy mor’ nin Pwéws yeypaumévas

péyxovot & od maTTOtcL Proiduacw.
284: rlOnow dp0dy 7 Karnpepy dda.
(Comp. Miiller, Humeniden, p. (12).
Supplices, 279: Kumpios xapaxrip 7’ év yuvacxelows rds
elxas mém\nxTat TEKTOvwWY pds apcévwr.
458: véows mivake Bpérea Koopjoa Tae.

2 This is implied in the improvements which he made in the masks, dresses, &e.

3 As the trilogies were acted early in the year, it is probable that the night began
to close in before the last piece and the satyrical drama were over. This may account
for Prometheus, the fire-kindler (which was probably a torch-race, Welcker, 7'ril. pp.
120, 507), being the satyrical drama of the Perseis; for the torch-procession at the
end of the Lwmenides, and for the conflagration at the end of the Troades. Comp.
Gruppe, Ariadne, p. 361.

4 Comp. Pers. 179, 803. 5 See Miiller, Humeniden, § 138.

6 The following is one of many passages in which the words of Solon are nearly
repeated by Adschylus.

Solon, p. 80, Bach:

mrovTov 6 obey répua mepacuévoy dvdpdo. Keltrat*
ol yap viv nudy metoTov éxovor Blov
dumAdovov orevdovar Tis dv Kopéoeev amrayras;
Agamemn, 972: udda yap To Tas woddGs bycelas
axédpecrov Tépua.

ASCUYLUS. 103

we easily detect in the writer of the Divina Commedia the stern
Florentine, who charged in the foremost ranks of the Guelfian
chivalry at the battle of Campaldino!, so may we at once recognize,
in the tone of Adschylus’ Tragedies, the high-minded Athenian,
the brother of Ameinias and Cynegeirus, whose sword drank the
blood of the dark-haired Medes at Marathon and Salamis. His
poems are full of military and political terms?; he breathes an
unbounded contempt for the barbarian prowess’, and he introduces
on the stage the grotesque monsters whose images he had often
seen among the spoils of the Persians‘. Even his high-flown
diction is a type of his military character, for many of his words
strike on the ear like trumpet-sounds. The description given of
his language by Aristophanes is so vivid, and at the same time
so true, that we must endeavour to lay it before our readers in
an English dress. The chorus of initiated persons is speaking of
the prospect of a contest between Auschylus and Euripides; they
express their expectations thus®:

Surely unbearable wrath will rise in the thunderer’s bosom,
When he perceives his rival in art, that treble-toned babbler,
Whetting his teeth: he will then, driven frantic with anger,
Roll his eye-balls fearfully.

Then shall we have plume-fluttering strifes of helmeted speeches,
Break-neck grazings of galloping words and shavings of actions,
While the poor wight averts the great geniusmonger’s
Diction high and chivalrous.

Bristling the stiffened mane of his neck-enveloping tresses,
Dreadfully wrinkling his brows, he will bellow aloud as he utters
Firmly rivetted words, and will tear them up plankwise,
Breathing with a Titan’s breath.

1 In quella battaglia memorabile e grandissima, che fu a Campaldino, lui giovane
e bene stimato si trovd nell’ armi combattendo vigorosamente a cavallo nella prima
schiera. Aretin. Vita di Dante, p. 9.

2 We allude to such phrases as paxdpwv mpvravis, Baordfs Slorot, orparias
Edopot, Piiduaxoa BpaBijs.
3 For instance, in the Supplices, 727, 8, 930 sqq:
4 Aristoph. Ran. 937:
_ovx immadexrpudvas, wa Al’, ov5é rpayeddgous dep at,
dy Toto. mepimeTdcuacw Tots Mndixols ypddouow.
> Aristoph. Ran. 814. It may be as well to remind the student, that A%schylus is
here compared to a lion, Euripides to a wild boar, Great contempt for Euripides is
expressed in 1. 820, in the opposition of gwrés applied to him, to dvdpds applied to
Alschylus ; 1. 824 intimates the difficulty of pronouncjng the long words of Aischylus,
which are afterwards compared to trees torn up by the root, as opposed to the twigs
and branches with which the rolling-places were generally strewed. (904.)
Tov 8 avacrGvr’ adrompéeuvots
‘Tots Néyourw
éumécovra cuaKeddv moh= ©
Ads adwd7Ppas ear.

104. ESCHYLUS.

Then will that smooth and diligent tongue, the touchstone of verses,
Twisting and twirling about, and moving the snaffle of envy,
Scatter his words, and demolish, with subtle refinement,
Doughty labowrs of the lungs.

In addition to the many other allusions to nautical matters
in Alschylus, the importance which he attaches to Zeus Soter,
the god of mariners, is of itself a sufficient indication of his sea-
faring life}.

Though /Eschylus does not seem to have had much relish
for the Dionysian rites or for an elementary worship of Bacchus,
he was a highly religious man, and strongly attached to the Dorian
idolatry, on which Pythagoras founded his more spiritual and
philosophical system of religion’. .

It is an established fact, that A%schylus borrowed, in his later
days, the third actor, and the other improvements of Sophocles.
The time at which he adopted the modifications introduced by
his younger contemporary is of importance with reference to the
chronological arrangement of his extant plays, which it is our next
business to consider,

Although it is certain that Auschylus exhibited his Tragedies in
tetralogies or connected sets of three with a satyrical after-piece,
we have only one of his trilogies, the latest of them, and the
satyrical dramas are altogether lost. The other four plays which
have come down to us seem to: have been the center-pieces of the
Trilogies to which they belonged. No one of them can be referred
to the first twelve years of his dramatic career. But three of the
four exhibit his Tragedy in its original form, with only two speak-
ing persons on the stage; one of them, in the opinion of some
critics, leaves it doubtful whether he had as yet adopted the
Sophoclean extension of the stage-business; and the three con-
stituting his Trilogy of the Orestea give us the Greek Tragedy
in the fullest development to which it ever attained.

1 See Miiller, Humeniden, § 94 foll. It appears to us, from the fact mentioned by

Strabo (rx. p. 396), that there was a temple of Zeus Soter on the shore of the Peirzeus,
and from the words of Diphilus (Athen. p. 229 B):

ird Todroy Uréuvé’ (we would read drévvi’) etOds ExBeBnxdbra,

Thy dekiay evéBarov éuvncOnv Arcos

DwrHpos. °
that this Zeus Soter was the god of mariners, to whom they offered up their vows
immediately on landing. Comp. Ayamemn. v. 650: Téxn 5€ owrijp vady Oédovs’ épé-
¢ero, and see our note on Pindar, Olymp. VIII. 20 sqq. p. 54-

2 See Miiller, Lumeniden, u. s. and elsewhere; and Klausen’s Theologumena

Aischyli.—And in connexion with the remarks on Aischylus’ love of sculpture, see
above, p. 24, note 1.

ASCHYLUS. 105

The earliest extant play of A‘%schylus seems to have been the}
Perse. It is expressly stated that the tetralogy, to which it be-
longed, and which consisted of the Phineus, the Perse, the Glaucus
Potnieus, and Prometheus Pyrceus, was performed in the archonship
of Menon, B.c. 472%. The direct reference to the great events,
which had taken place some seven years earlier, places the Perse
in the same category with the Marov “AXwous of Phrynichus;
but while the latter commemorated a grievous disaster, JAUschylus
celebrated glorious victories, and he was enabled, as we may infer
from the names of the other plays in the Trilogy, to connect these
topics of contemporary interest with a wide field of mythology and
vaticination. The Phineus, who gave his name to the introductory
drama, was the blind soothsayer, who predicted to the Argonauts
the adventures which would befal them in that first attack upon
Asia by the Greeks, and it would be easy for the poet to interweave
with this a series of prophecies referrmg to the glorious overthrow
of the counter-expedition of Xerxes. The scene of the extant
play, which forms the center-piece of the Trilogy, is laid at Susa,
where the Queen-dowager Atossa, prepared for coming disaster
by an ominous dream, receives from a Persian messenger the details
of the battle of Salamis, and of the retreat of the defeated army
across the Strymon. After this the shade of Darius appears, and
predicts the battle of Platea. The piece concludes with the appear-
ance of Xerxes himself in a most unkingly plight, and he and the
chorus pour forth a coupos or dirge, deploring the sad consequences
of his attempt to subjugate Greece. The third play was called
Glaucus, and the didascalia states that it was the Glaucus Potnieus.
There was also another play of Adschylus called the Glaucus Pon-
tius, and some scholars have contended that this was the third
Tragedy in the Trilogy under consideration?. We cannot recognize
the necessity for such an alteration of the document as it has come
down to us: for there is no more difficulty in connecting the
Glaucus Potnieus with the Perse, than there is in establishing a cor-
respondence of plot between the latter and the Glaweus Pontius. It
is sufficient to remark that the apparition of Darius was evoked
for the purpose, as it seems, of predicting the battle of Platea

1 Argument. Pers.: ért Mévwvos tpayyiav Aioxvndos évixa Piet, époas, TAavxw
Tlorvce?, Ipoundet.

2 Welcker, Tril. pp. 311 sqq. 471; Nachtrag, p. 176; Miiller, Hist. Gr. Lit. 1.
p- 425.

106 ZSCHYLUS.

(vv. 800 sq.). Now Potnie was on the road from Thebes to Platza’,
and the few fragments of the play called Glaucus Potnieus certainly
do not authorize us in denying that some of the many legends,
of which Potnie was the traditionary home, might have been
brought into connexion with the battle of Platea. The incident in
the fate of Glaucus himself, namely, that he was torn to pieces by
his own steeds, is undoubtedly referred to in one of the fragments’ ;
and when we remember the dream of Atossa, and how Xerxes is
overthrown by the visionary horses which he yokes to his chariot’,
it is quite conceivable that some prophetical inferences may have
been drawn from the downfal of Glaucus in the chariot-race at the
funeral games of Pelias‘. In any case, it is: clear that the Perse
with its contemporary references stood between two plays which
derived their names and probably their action and circumstances
from the mythical traditions of ancient Hellas. With regard to
the Perse itself, it has been well remarked® that ‘in this instance
the scene is not properly Grecian; it is referred by the mind to
Susa, the capital of Persia, far eastward even of Babylon, and four
months’ march from Hellas. Remoteness of space in that case
countervailed the proximity in point of time; though it may be
doubted, whether, without the benefit of the supernatural, it would,
even in that case, have satisfied the Grecian taste. And it certainly
would not, had the reference of the whole piece not been so in-
tensely Athenian.”

The next in point of date of the extant plays of Aischylus
was the Seven against Thebes, which is stated to have been acted
after the Perse®, but must have appeared in the lifetime of Aris-
teides, who died not later than B.c. 468. For the beautiful: verses
respecting Amphiaraus were considered at Athens to refer to that up-
right statesman’. This play, as Aristophanes makes its author call

1 Pausan, IX. 8; Strabo, p. 409.

2 e.g. Fragm. 30; see Hermann, de dschyli Glaucis, Opuse. It. p. 63.

3 Pers. 81.

4 Pausan. VI. 20, § 19. As rapdéuros, Glaucus may have been serviceable accord-
ing to Greek superstition in the defeat of the cavalry of Mardonius.

5 De Quincey, Leaders in literature and traditional errors affecting them, p. 66.

6 Aristophanes says (Ran. 1058): elra diddéas Iépcas werd robro, speaking of the
Seven against Thebes, but the Schol. informs us: 76 6é ei7a kal To eta ToUTO, ov
Oéd\ovew axovew mpds Tas dibackaNlas, GAN ev low TG kal ToOro édlbaka Kal 70 Erepov.
And again (ad v. 1053): of Iépaac mpdrepov Sedidaryyévor elaly’ elra ol éxrd ert OnBas.

7 Plut. Apophthegm. Reg. p. 186 B (739 Wyttenb.): Alcxvou moujoartos els ’Ap-
pidpaov"

ZSCHYLUS. 107

it, was truly full of warlike spirit’, but its construction is eminently
simple. The dialogue is mainly sustained by Eteocles, the young
king of Thebes, who receives intelligence of the seven champions
about to attack the seven gates of his city, and appoints a warrior
to meet each of them, reserving his brother Polyneices for himself.
The play ends with an announcement of the victory of Thebes ;
and Antigone and Ismene, in conjunction with the chorus, pour forth
a lament over their two brothers who have fallen in the fratricidal
strife. Antigone, in particular, declares her resolve to bury Poly-
neices in spite of the prohibition of the Theban senate (1017). And
while the first play of the Trilogy, probably the Gidipus, must have
developed the circumstances leading to the paternal curses, to which
Eteocles makes such emphatic reference at the beginning of the
Seven against Thebes (v. 70), the fate of Antigone must have been
introduced into the last play, no doubt the Hlewsinians, the main
topic of which was the interference of Theseus to procure the
burial at Eleuthere and Eleusis of the Argives who fell before
Thebes”.

The most contradictory opinions have been maintained respect-
ing the chronology of the Prometheus. For while one critic contends: .
that it is the oldest of the extant plays of Auschylus, and was
exhibited soon after Ol. 75, 2, B.c. 478°, another eminent scholar
says that it “was in all probability one of the last efforts of the
genius of Alschylus, for the third actor is to a certain extent
employed in it*.”2 The reason alleged for this late date of the
play—namely, the assumed employment of a third actor—falls
to the ground when we adopt the probable supposition® that

od yap Soxety dpisros adn’ evar OédeL,

Babetay ddoxa bia ppevds Kaprrovpuevos,

ad’ ns Ta Kebva BAaordver Bovdedpara*
kal heyouevwv TotTwy mdyres els ’Apicrelinv dwéBeyay.

1 Ran. 1054: dpaua moujoas “Apews weordv.

2 Plutarch, Thes. c. 29: owémpace 5 (Onceds) cal ’Adpdotw Thy avalpecw Tay bd
7H Kaduelg recdvrwy, obx, ws Evpurlins érolycev &y tpayyolg, udxy Tay OnBalwv Kpa-
Thoas, aNdG Teloas Kal orreccdpevos...rapal dé Tov mev oGy Ev ’ENevOepais delxvuvrac,
Tay 5é yeudvev rept’ ENevoiva, kal roiro Oncéws’ Adpdorw Xapicapévov. Karapaprupodce
3¢ r&v Huperidov ‘Ixerldwy of Alcxtdov ’ENevolviot, & ols kat ratra Aéywr 6 Onoeds
TEeTOLNT AL. H

3 G, F. Schémann, des Aschylos gefesselter Prometheus, pp. 79 sqq.

4 Miiller, Hist. Gr. Lit. 1. p. 432.

5 Welcker, Zril. p. 30; Hermann, Opuse. 11. p. 146 ; ad disch. p. 55. It is curious
that Schémann, who argues for the oldest date of the Prometheus, disallows this sup-
position, and imagines that one of the choreute took the part of the third actor (u. s.

108 ZSCHYLUS.

Prometheus, who does not speak during the dialogue between Vul-
can and his coadjutor, Strength, was represented by a lay figure
attached to the rock scenery, behind whose mask the protagonist
spoke during the rest of the play. The reasons, which induce us to
take a middle course between these conflicting opinions and to
place the Prometheus third among the extant plays of Aischylus,
are briefly as follows. The references to Sicily, the Sicelisms of the
language, and the covert allusions to Sicilian affairs, especially the
description of the great eruption of A‘tna!, seem to point to an
epoch subsequent to the poet’s first visit to Sicily in B.c. 468. On
the other hand, the sarcastic allusions to tyrants and courtiers? are
not likely to have appeared in a play acted-in Sicily, or indeed
during the life-time of Hiero, and this consideration will induce us
to place the Tragedy after B.c. 467. But it seems reasonable to
conclude that the elaborate description of the subject of another
Trilogy * would hardly have been put into the mouth of Prometheus,
if that series of plays had been already acted. And as we shall see
that the Supplices, the center play of the Trilogy about the daugh-
ters of Danaus, must have been performed about B.c. 461, we must
place the Prometheus at some time between that date and the poet’s
return from Sicily. If we must fix a particular date, we can sug-
gest none better than the year B.c. 464, when the news would
reach Athens that Themistocles had entered the service of the Per-
sian kine*, The warrior of Marathon and Salamis, and the friend
of Aristeides, would at such a time with peculiar force utter that
abomination of treason, which the poet puts into the mouth of his
chorus’. This noble Tragedy, the Prometheus bound, which ex-

pp. 85 sqq.). Such a parachoregema cannot be imagined in the very earliest days of
the Greek Drama.

1 vy. 367 sqq.: évOev éxparynoovral more
motrapol mupos Sdwrovres ayplais yvdbos
THs KaNdtkdprov ZexeNlas Nevpods yas.
It is true that this eruption took place B. 0. 478, but the description points to a recent
view of the effects, rather than to a recent hearsay of the fact. For the Sicelisms in
the Prometheus see Blomfield’s Gloss. 277. And for allusions to Hiero’s affairs see
Droysen’s Translation, p. 568.
2 See é. gy. 917: céBou, mpocevxou, OGmre Tov KparodvT’ del.
3 Cf. vv. 830 sqq., with the Supplices as it stands.
4 Themistocles arrived in Persia soon after the death of Xerxes in B.C. 465, during
the influence of Artabanes. See Clinton, F. H. II. p. 40.
© ro48 sqq. : Tovs mpoddras yap mice &uaov,
KovK éote vocos

> oe

THOS Hvrw’ amwémtvca madXor.

ZSCHYLUS. 109

hibits Prometheus fettered to the mountain side, but still defying
the power of Jove and refusing to divulge the oracle of Themis,
on which the continuance of that power depended, was preceded
by Prometheus the fire-bringer, in which the labours of Prometheus
on behalf of mankind were fully exhibited, and was followed by
Prometheus unbound, in which Prometheus is released by Hercules
and reconciled to Jove, to whom he now discloses the prophecy that
Thetis would give birth to a son more powerful than his father,
and so releases him from the consequences of his intended marriage
with that sea-goddess.

The remaining single play, the Suppliants, belonged to a tri-
logy, which some have called the Danais, and which undoubtedly
related to the wholesale murder of 49 of the 50 sons of A%gyptus
on their marriage-night. The first play, which is supposed to have
been the Afgyptians, represented of course the circumstances which
led to the flight of Danaus and his 50 daughters from Egypt. The
Suppliants exhibits the exiles seated before a group of altars at
Argos, and shows how they were received by King Pelasgus and
his people, and how the attempt of the Egyptian herald, to carry
them back to Egypt by force, was resisted by the hospitable
Greeks. In the last play, called the Danaides, Aischylus must
have detailed the feigned reconciliation of the two brothers, the
marriage of their two progenies, and its fatal consequences!. There
is reason to believe that the piece ended, like the Humenddes, with
a formal trial, or rather with two trials. On the one hand, it seems
clear that the 49 homicidal daughters, together with their father
who instigated the deed, were publicly tried at the suit of Algyp-
tus?; and the feeling, with which the poet regards their case in the
Suppliants®, leaves it hardly doubtful that they were acquitted on
the ground that they had no other means of escaping the incestuous
marriage forced upon them by Aigyptus*. But if they were justi-
fied, Hypermnestra must have been culpable, and there seem to be
good grounds for the inference that she was rescued from the
dilemma by the intervention of Venus, who is known to have

1 See Hermann’s paper, de dschyli Danaidibus, Opusc. IL. pp. 319 sqq.
2 Eurip. Orest. 862: 0} gaol mpGrov Aavady Alytirrw Sikas
dibdv7’ aPpotcar adv és Kowas edpas.
3 Suppl. 38: mpl more Néxtpwv Gv O€ucs etpyer
ogerepteduevoy rarpade\pelay
THVS dekdvTwy ériBHvat.
4 Hermann, Opuse. 11. p. 330.

110 JESCHYLUS.

appeared in the play! and to have claimed a part of the blame for
the universal tuepos, to which Hypermnestra yielded when the love
for Lynceus made her disobey her father?. Whether the play intro-
duced any reference to the device of a foot-race to determine the
re-matriage of the homicidal widows*, there is no means of de-
ciding. It is remarkable that the same verb is used in the Supplices
to denote the assignment of a handmaiden to each of the chorus‘,
and in the story of the mythographer, to denote the assignment of
a husband to each of the 50 cousins®. With regard to the former
circumstance, we are not to suppose that a crowd of 100 dancers
appeared in the orchestra or on the stage. But as the chorus was
probably the same in all three plays, and as reference is made to
the number of 50°, it is not improbable that the whole number of
choreutz may have been employed in each play, some of them sus-
taining the action on the stage, and others executing dances in the
orchestra. The date of this Trilogy is approximately determined
by distinct references in the Suppliants to amicable relations be-
tween the popular party at Argos and the Athenians’, and to the
anticipated results of a conflict between Greeks and Egyptians®.
And as the war with Egypt began in B.c. 462, and the alliance
between Athens and Argos came into operation in B.c. 461, we
may fix the latter year for the performance of this Trilogy®.

In these separate plays we see no traces of the employment of a
third actor. It has been shown already that a simple expedient

1 Athen. p. 600 A: kal 6 ceuvdraros Alcxvdos &v Tats Aavaiow aithy mapdyer Thy
"A ppodirny Néyoucay’
ép@ ev ayvos ovpavds tp@oa xOdva K.T.X.
Tavd’ éy@ mapattcos.
2 Prom. 864: plav 5€ maldwy twepos Oé\Ee Th pH
KTetvac ovyeuvov.
3 Pind. 1x. Pyth. 116; Apollodor. 1. 1, 5, § 12.
4 Suppl. 984: Taocerbe, pirat Suwides, otrws
ws éf’ éExdorn StexAnpwoev
Aavads Oepatrovriba pépynv.
© Apollod. 11. 1, 5, § 1: @moddyer Tods yduous Kal SuexAijpou Tas Kédpas.
6 Prometh. 855; Suppl. 316.
7 Suppl. 699: udrdooo Tysloise Tyas
TO Orjucoy, TO wrdd\w Kpartvet,
mpopabets 7’ evKowounris apxa*
E€vousl 7 evévuBddous mpl éEomdlGew “Apn,
Oikas drep mhudrwv d.dolev.
8 Cf. 761: BUSNov 5e Kdpros ob exe ordyxuv.
953: GN dpoevds To Thode ys olkjropas
evpjaet’, od mlyovras éx KpiOdv pédu.
9 Miiller, Lumeniden, p. 125.

ESCHYLUS. 111

would enable two actors to perform the introductory scene of the
Prometheus. Even in the Supplices the Protagonist had only to
play Danaus and the Egyptian herald, and the Deuteragonist had
no character to sustain except Pelasgus. And yet in the complete
Trilogy, the Orestea, which is known to have been acted in B.C.
4581, and which has many dramatic features in common with the
Trilogy to which the Supplices belonged, we have the three actors
in every play. We do not of course know whether this extended
machinery was employed in any earlier play, which is now lost.
But it seems reasonable to conclude, from the specimens which we
have, that Auschylus did not borrow this most characteristic im-
provement of his rival Sophocles till quite the close of his own
dramatic career. And it is just possible that the Orestea may have
been the first and last example of this condescension to the esta-
blished fashion at Athens. In a subsequent chapter we will fully
analyze the structure of this great effort of the genius of Auschylus,
and will endeavour to indicate all the details of the stage business?.
Here it will be sufficient to call attention to the connexion of the
Trilogy with the political principles of Aischylus. The four sepa-
rate plays are, as we have seen, the middle pieces in the Trilogies to
which they belonged. But the extant Trilogy makes every thing
work up to the final Tragedy. Clytemnestra kills her husband on
the plea that he had slain Iphigenia, but really because she had
conspired with Aigisthus to usurp his throne. She is Lady Mac-
beth and Queen Gertrude of Denmark both in one. Having been
guilty of this homicide, she ought, according to Greek usage, to
have gone into exile, and this is the doom pronounced upon her by
the senators of Argos*. This sentence she sets at nought, and
reigns at Argos in spite of the laws of God and man. Outraged
religion, then, speaking by the voice of Apollo, orders the son of
Agamemnon, as the proper avenger of blood, to put her and A)gis-
thus to death. It is clear that this command, rather than any vin-
dictive feeling, is the influencing motive with Orestes; and there-
fore when the Erinyes, as the avenging goddesses, who alone could
prosecute Orestes, he being legally justified, demand his punish-
ment, Apollo, with the sanction of Zeus, pleads his cause before
the Areopagus at Athens; and while his human judges, by an

1 Argum.: €55dxOn 76 Spipa érl dpxovros Proxdéous 6dvumidde w’ ree B’* wpSros

Aicx. ’"Ayau. Xonp. Hive. Mpwre? carvpixg éxopiyyer Zevoxd7js ’Agidvevs.
2 Book 11, chapter It. 3 Choéph. goo sqq.

112 ZSCHYLUS.

equality of votes, neither acquit nor condemn him, Athena, or
divine wisdom, who was also the divine patroness of Athens, gives
a casting vote in his favour, and at the same time appeases the
Eumenides by promising them a perpetual seat in the Areopagus,
where every one who owned himself guilty of homicide would be
ipso facto condemned, without any liberty of pleading, as Orestes
had done, excuse or justification. This seems to have been in ac-
cordance with the practice of that venerable tribunal; whereas the
Epbetx, when they sat at the Delphinium, or temple of Apollo, the
justifying advocate of Orestes, took cognizance of those cases of ad-
mitted homicide, which were defended on some valid plea of justifi-
cation; and when they sat at the Palladium, or temple of Athena,
—the presiding judge who acquitted Orestes,—they took cogni-
zance of those cases of homicide, in which an accident or absence
of malicious intention was pleaded by the culprit’. Now at the
time when the Orestea was acted, the Areopagus, which, besides its
judicial functions, was an oligarchical tribunal exercising an autho-
rity not unlike that of the censors at Rome, and which especially
claimed the right of passing sentence on charges of impiety (acé-
Beva), had just been reduced to its jurisdiction in homicide by
Pericles and his partizan Ephialtes?, who not only objected gene-
rally to its senatorial power, but had reason to fear its becoming an
instrument of the Lacedemonian party in mooting that charge of
inherited sacrilege which was always hanging over the head of the
great democratic leader’. Whether Adschylus, both by his favour-
able reference to the Argive alliance, which was formed at this
time*, and by his prediction of the perpetuity of the remaining
privileges of the Areopagus, endeavoured to conciliate the hatred of
the contending factions®, or whether he was engaged with Cimon
in an attempt to rescind the measures of Pericles and Ephialtes,
which led to the ostracism of Cimon® and to the retirement of
AXschylus from Athens, can perhaps hardly be determined with
any certainty’, There can be no doubt, however, of the reference
of the Humenides to these contemporary incidents in the history of
Athens.

1 Grote, Hist. Gr, 11. pp. 103 sqq. 2 Thirlwall, Vol. Iv. pp. 22 sqq.
3 Td. pea - 4 i.e. in the year before the Orestes was acted.
® Grote, Hist. Gr. V. p. 499, note. § Plutarch, Cimon, c. 17.

7 Miiller’s opinion, Zumenid. § 35 sqq., that the criminal jurisdiction of the Areo-
pagus was taken away by Ephialtes, is controverted by Thirlwall and Grote.

CHAPTER I.

SECTION III.

SOPHOCLES.

Tév ce xopots wé\Wavta Dodpox\éa, maida DoPiddov,
Tis tpaytkhs Movons aorépa Kexpdmuor,
Tlo\AdKis €v Ouwédynoe kal & oKnvijoe TEAnAWS
Bratobs ’Axapvirns kicods Epewe Kounr,
TuuBos éxer kal ys dNiyov mépos* aN 6 mepicods
Alay aéavarots dépxerar ev ceNlow.
SIMMIAS,

ana the son of Sophilus or Sophillus, was born at
Colonus, an Attic deme about a mile from the city, in (B.c.)
495. His father, who was a man of good family, and possessed
of considerable wealth!, gave him an excellent education. His
teacher in music was the celebrated Lamprus, and he profited
so much by his opportunities, that he gained the prize both in
music and in the Palestra®, He was hardly sixteen years old
when he played an accompaniment on the lyre to the Pan, which
the Athenians sang around the trophy erected after the battle of
Salamis; in other words, he was the exarchus, and possibly,
therefore, composed the words of the ode®, His first appearance,
as a tragedian, was attended by a very remarkable circumstance.
Cimon removed the bones of Theseus from Scyrus to Athens

1 Lessing (Leben des Sophocles, stimmlichte Schriften, Vol. v1. pp. 282 sqq.), to
whom we are indebted for nearly all the particulars which we have given in the text,
quotes (note C) Plin. H. N. xxxvit. 11: principe loco genitum Athenis.

2 Kadds te éradeiOn Kat éerpdpy év evropla....dceroviln 5& ev maot Kat rept
madalorpay kat povoixiy, €& dv duporépwy érrepavidn, Ss pnow “Iorpos. ediddxOn 6e
Thy wovoixhy mapa Adumpy. Vit. Anonym.

3 LodoxdrHs 5 mpds TE kadds yeyerfjcOae Thy Spav Fv xal épxnotikhy dedidaynévos
kal movoixhy ere mais dv mapa Adumpy. mera yoov Thy év Dadayuie vavuaylay rept
Tpbmavoy yuuvds GAyriupmévos exdpevoe wera NUpas’ of bE & luarlw dacl. Kat rdv
Oduupw Siidoxww abros excAdpicer’ Axpws 5é ecghaipicer, bre Tiv Navoixday KaeFxe.
Athen. I. p. 20.

Mera rh &v Zadauin vavuaxlav "AOnvalwy wept rpdmatov byTwy, weTa AUpas yuuvds
aXmrippevos Tors maravigovar rev éxuixlay éfpye. Vit. Anon.

Det Gs 8

114 SOPHOCLES.

(468 B.c.1), He arrived at Athens about the time of the tragic
contests, and Auschylus and Sophocles were among the com-
petitors. The celebrity of the former, and the personal beauty,
rank, popularity, and known accomplishments of the latter, excited
a great sensation. When therefore Cimon and his nine colleagues
entered the theatre of Bacchus, to perform the usual libations, the
Archon, Apsephion, instead of choosing judges by lot, detained
the ten generals in the theatre, and having administered an oath
to them, made them decide between the rival tragedians. The
first prize was awarded to Sophocles, and, as we have seen,
fEschylus departed immediately for Sicily’. This decision does
not imply any disregard of the -Aischylean Tragedy on the part
of the Athenians. The contest was, as has been justly observed,
not between two individual works of art, but between two species
or ages of art*; and if, as we think has been fully demonstrated 4,
the Triptolemus was one of the plays which Sophocles exhibited
on that occasion, we can readily conceive that, when the minds
of the people were full of their old national legends, the subject
which the young poet had chosen, and the desire to encourage
his first attempt, would be sufficient to overweigh the reputation
of his antagonist, coupled as it was with anti-popular polities,
especially as the A‘schylean Tragedy lacked that freshness of

1 Marm. Par. No. tvit.: ag’ 0b Dopoxdjs 6 Vopidrdov 6 ek Kodwvod evixnoe tpayw-
dla, érav dv AATILII, érmy HHIII, dpxovros AGivyow ’Aynpiovos. ‘These were the
greater Dionysia, or the Acoviio.a 7a év Gore, in the month Elaphebolion; because
the Archon Eponymus, Apsephion, presided; and, 6 pév dpxwy drarlOnor Aroviiora, 6 dé
BaccXevs (conf. Aristoph. Acharn. 1224, et Schol. ad loc.) mpoéornxe Anvaiwy. Pollux,
vu. 89, 50.” Clinton, F. H. 11. p. 39.

2 "Edevro 8 els uvijnv airod, cal riv Tov tpaywday Kplow dvouacrhy yevouevny’
mpuorny yap diarxadiay rod LopoxNéous ere véov xabévros, ’Adevlwy (sic), 6 dpxwy, pido-
veixias olons Kal mapardiews Tov Deady, xpiras pev ovK exXijpwoe TOU ayavos’ ws Se
Kluwv pera tv ovorparnyav mpoedOayv els 7d Odarpor érorncato TG OeG Tas vevojur
bévas omovids, ovk apijKkey abrods dmedOeiv, XN Opkwoas, hvdyKace Kabloa Kal Kpivat
déxa bvras, dd pudjqs, wuds Exacrov* 6 wev ody aya Kal did 7d TO KpiTGy dilwua Thy
piroriiav brepéBare. vikioavros 5é DopoxNéous, Néyerat Tov AloxvAov mwepuray yevs-
Hevoy, Kal Bapéws évéykovra, xpovov ob moddv ’AOjvyoe Siaryaryety, eit’ olxer Oar bv dpyhv
els DixeNav. Plutarch, Cimon, ec. Vut.

There is probably an allusion to this in Aristoph. Ran. 1reg sqq., where the
chorus says, that the military character of the spectators fits them to be judges of the
contest between Aischylus and Euripides, éorparevyévor ydp elot.

3 Welcker, Trilogic, p. 513.

4 By Lessing, Leben des Sophocles (note 1), from a passage in Plin. H. VN. Xvi. 7:
Sophoclis Triptolemus ante mortem Alexandri annis fere 145. But Alexander died
323 B.C., and 323+145=468. On the Zriptolemus in general, see Welcker, 7'ril. 514
(who thinks it was certainly not a satyrical drama), and Niebuhr, Hist. Rom. Vol. 1.
pp. 17, 18. The arguments adduced by Gruppe (Ariadne, pp. 358 foll.) to prove that
the Rhesus was the play which Sophocles exhibited on this occasion, are ail in favour
of Lessing’s opinion.

‘

SOPHOCLES. 115

novelty and loveliness of youth which hung around the form and
the poetry of the beautiful son of Sophillus. Sophocles rarely
appeared on the stage, in consequence of the weakness of his
voice': we are told, however, that he performed on the lyre, in
the character of Thamyris, and distinguished himself by the
grace with which he played at ball in his own play called
Nausicaa*. In 440 B.c. he brought out the Antigone, and we
are informed that it was to the political wisdom exhibited in that
play, that he owed his appointment as colleague of Pericles and
Thucydides in the Samian war*, On this occasion he met with
Herodotus, and composed a lyrical poem for that historian*. It
“does not appear that he distinguished himself in his military
capacity®. He received many invitations from foreign courts, but
loved Athens too well to accept them. He held several offices
in his old age. He was priest of the hero Alon®, and in the
year 413 B.c. was elected one of the wpoovror. This was a |
board of commissioners, all old men, which was established im- |
mediately after the disastrous termination of the Syracusan expe- |
dition, to devise expedients for meeting the existing emergencies’. p
1 Ipdrov xaradtcas tiv brdxpurw rod rownrod dud Thy ldlav loxvopwvlav. Vit.

Anonym.

2 See the passage of Athen. (I. p. 20) quoted above. ‘‘The Nausicaa was, accord-
ing to all appearances, a satyric drama. The Odyssee was in general a rich store-
house for the satyrical plays. The character of Ulysses himself makes him a very con-
venient satyrical impersonation.” Lessing, Leben des Sophocles, note K (Vol. Vi. p. 342). ”

3 Strabo, xiv. p. 446; Suidas, v. Méd:ros; Athen. xr. p. 603 F; Scholiast,
Aristoph. Paz, v. 696; Cic. de Off. 1. 40; Plutarch, Pericl. c. viit.; Plin. H. N.
XXxvi. 2; Val. Max. rv. 3: all testify that the true cause is assigned by Aris-
tophanes of Byzantium in the argument to the Antigone: Paci 5 rdv Lopoxhéa
Hidobae THs ev Sduw orparnylas evdoxyuhoavra év TH didacKaNrle ris ’Avteyovys. A
similar distinction was conferred upon Phrynichus, Avlian, V. H. 111.8. It is probable
that Sophocles conciliated the favour of the more popular party, by the way in which
he speaks of Pericles, v. 662, and they were perhaps willing’ to take the hint in v. 175,
where, we may observe in passing, ¢psvnua signifies ‘political opinions,” as in the
phrases, gurédos @poviuacw, Todvd’ éudy ppdvnua, trov ppovay, which occur in the
same play. On the meanings of ¢povety and Ppéyvnua in Sophocles, see the notes on
the translation of the Antigone, pp. 155, 108.

4 Plutarch, An seni, &c. c. 3. IV. 153, Wyttenb. On this subject the student may
consult the Introduction to the Antigone, p. xvii, and Transactions of the Philol. Soc.
1. No. 15, where it will be seen that Herodotus was an imitator of Sophocles.

5 At least if we may credit the tale told of him by Ion, a contemporary poet
(Athenzus, x111. 604), where he is made to say of himself: MeXer® orparnye, J
dvipes’ érecdnmep Iepixdjs movety wev Eby me, oTparnyew 5° ov érloracGat.

6 "Koyxe 5¢ kal ri Tod “ANwvos lepwotynv, ds Hpws Hv wera AokAntiod rapa Xelpwn.
Vit. Anonym.

7 Thucyd. vim. 1: kal dpxjv twa r&v mpecBurépwy dvipay édécPac olrwes wepl Trav
mapivtwy ws av Kaipds 4 mpoBovdevcovcr. We consider these mpdf8ovdoc to have been
most probably elected to serve as fuyypapijs (Thucyd. viit. 67), for it was the fvy-
paps who brought about the revolution, and we learn from Aristotle (see below)

_ that Sophocles contributed to it in his character of rpéfovXos.
8—2

116 SOPHOCLES.

The constitution of such a committee was necessarily aristocratic’,
and two years after, B.C. 411, Sophocles, once the favourite of
the people and the colleague of Pericles, fell into the plans of
Peisander and the other conspirators, and consented in the temple
of Neptune, at his own Colonus, to the establishment of a council
of four hundred; in other words, to the subversion of the old
Athenian constitution®. He afterwards defended his policy on
the grounds of expediency*. Nicostrata had borne him a son,
whom he named Iophon: he had another son Ariston, by Theoris
of Sicyon, whose son, Sophocles, was a great favourite with his
erandfather and namesake. From this reason, or because, ac-
cording to Cicero, his love for the stage made him neglect his
affairs, his son Iophon charged him with dotage and lunacy,
and brought him before the proper court, with a view to remove
him from the management of his property. The poet read to
his judges a part of the Qdipus at Colonus, which he had just
finished, and triumphantly asked “if that was the work of an
idiot ?”’ Of course the charge was dismissed*. We are sorry to
say that this very pretty story is a mere fabrication, for the
(Edipus at Colonus must have been acted, at least for the first
time, before the breaking out of the Peloponnesian war*. So-
phocles died in the very beginning of the year 405 B.C.; according
to Ister and Neanthes he was choked by a grape, which the actor
Callippides brought him from Opus, at the time of the Anthesteria.
Satyrus tells us that he died in consequence of exerting his voice
too much while reading the Antigone aloud®: others say that his

1 Aristot. Polit. vi. 5, 10: bet yap elvac 7d cuvdyov TO Kiptov Tis woiTelas. Kahetrat
5° évOa ev mpbBoudor bid. 7d, rpoBovrevew" Sov 5é Td TAHOSs Eote BovrAn paXov.

2 = Thueyd. vull. 67: guvéxdyoay Thy éxxdnolav els Tov Kodwvby (are dé iepov Tocer-
davos &w modews dméxov cradlous udduora béxa) K.T.d.

3 Kal cuumepawbyevor, day épdornua movf 7d ovumépacua, Ti alrtay elweiv’ olov
LopokN7js epwrwpevos rd IewdvSpov, “el edocev airG, womwep kal rots dots TpoBov-
ows, KaTacTioa rods rerpaxoclous;” &py.—‘ TL be ob wovypd co Tavra édbKer elvar;”
pn. ‘Ovk otv od rabra émpatas Ta Tovnpd;” ‘ Nal,” pn, ‘ov yap qv dda Bedriw.”
Aristot. Ahet. 11. 18. .

4 Vit. Anonym. ; Cicero, de Senectute, § 7; Wal. Max. vim.

5 See Reisig, Enarrat. Gd. Col. pp. v sqq.; J. W. Siivern, On some historical
and political allusions in Ancient Tragedy, pp. 6, 8; Lachmann, in the Rhein. Mus. for
1827, pp. 313 fol. ; Hermann in Zimmermann’s Zeitschrift, 1837, No. 98, pp. 803 sqq.,
inclines to the opinion that the (dip, Col. was written before, but not published till
after, the Peloponnesian war.

§ We have seen that loxvopwvia was attributed to Sophocles: if it arose from
delicate lungs, this account of his death is probable enough. There are chronological
objections to the other two statements. See Clinton, /. H. 11, p. 85.

SOPHOCLES. 117

joy at being proclaimed tragic victor was too much for his decayed
strength. His family burial-place was Decelea, and as that town
was in the possession of the Lacedemonians, it was not possible
to bring him thefe until Lysander, having heard from the deserters
that the great poet was dead, permitted his ashes to rest with those
of his ancestors. There is a legend, that Bacchus appeared twice
to Lysander in a dream, and enjoined him to allow the interment
to take place’. According to one account, they placed the image
of a Siren over his tomb, according to another, a bronze swallow.
Ister informs us that the Athenians decreed him an annual sacrifice.
He wrote, besides Tragedies, an elegy, peeans, and a prose-work on
the chorus, against Thespis and Cheerilus. Only seven of his
Tragedies have come down to us; but an ingenious attempt has
been made to show that the Zhesus, which is generally attributed
to Euripides, was the first of the plays of Sophocles’.

With regard to the whole number of plays composed by Sopho-
cles, we have the authority of Aristophanes, of Byzantium, that
130 were ascribed to him, of which seventeen were spurious. It
has been objected® to this large number, that the Antigone, which
was acted in 440, was the thirty-second play; and as Sophocles
began to exhibit in 468, and died in 405, he would have written
eighty-one pieces in the last thirty-six years of his literary life, and
only thirty-two in the first twenty-seven years; whereas it is not
likely that he would have written more in his declining years than
in the vigour of his life: and it has been conjectured that he wrote
only about seventy plays. Reasons have, however, been given‘,
which incline us to believe that Aristophanes is correct in assign-
ing to him 113 genuine dramas. For, in the first place, the mean-
ing of the words, on which this objection is founded, is not suf-
ficiently clear: it is not certain that the grammarian is not referring
to Tragedies only, and in that case, even supposing that Sophocles
wrote five separate plays in that time, we should have to add nine
satyrical dramas to make up the Tetralogies, and thus we should

1 See Vita Anonym. Pausanias, I. 21, $1, gives a somewhat different story. Aéye-
Tat 6¢ Lopoxdéouvs TereuTHoavros ésBdddew els rhv ’Atrixhy Aaxedatmovlous, kal opadv
Tov ipyoumevov lev émistdvra of Ardvucoy Kedevew Tiyats, boar KabeothKacw éml Tots
TeOvedot, Thy Leipqva rhv Néav tiwdv. xal ol 7d dvap Dogoxréa kal rhv Dopoxdéous
molnaw épaivero éxew.

2 Gruppe, Ariadne, pp. 285—30:.
3 By Bickh, de Gr. Trag. Princip. pp. 107—109.
4 By Clinton, Phil. Museum, 1. pp. 74 fol.

118 SOPHOCLES.

not lave a very disproportionate number of trilogies for the remain-
ing thirty-six years. Besides, we have a list of 114 names of
dramas attributed to Sophocles, of which ninety-eight are quoted
more than once as his, and it is exceedingly unlikely that many of
these should have been written by his son Iophon, or his grandson,
the younger Sophocles. It will be recollected too, that, in the
earlier part of his life, Sophocles was much engaged in public af-
fairs; he was a general, at least once!, and went on several embas-
sies?; this, in addition to the greater facility in writing, which he
might have acquired by long practice, would account for his pen
being more prolific in the latter part of his life. He obtained the
first prize eighteen®, twenty+, or twenty-four times®, and it is not
probable that his first and second prizes taken together were much
fewer than thirty. Now it seems that about twenty-four of the
dramas, the names of which have come down to us, were satyrical :
we may suppose that he wrote about twenty-seven satyrical dramas
on the whole: this would give us twenty-seven Tetralogies, or 108
plays, and there remain five single plays to satisfy the statement of
Suidas, that he contended with drama against drama. This state-
ment we shall now proceed to examine. It certainly does not im-
ply that he never contended with Trilogies, for it is known that he
wrote satyrical dramas, which in his time were never acted by
themselves. One of the conjectures, which have been proposed
with respect to the meaning of the words of Suidas, is, that Sopho-
cles opposed to the Trilogies of Auschylus three Tragedies, not inti-
mately connected with one another, like the A%schylean plays, but
each complete in itself6. This presumes, however, that Suidas un-
derstood the word tetpadoya in a technical sense, as expressing
the distinguishing peculiarity of the Auschylean Trilogy with its ac-
companying satyric drama. We cannot believe that the gram-
marian had any such accurate perception of the real nature of the ”
trilogy. Nevertheless, the fact may have been such, although
Suidas did not know it: for nothing is more likely than that the
custom of contending with single plays, which Sophocles, perhaps

1 Justin says (lib. m1. 6) that he served against the Lacedzemonians.

2 kal év mpecBelais cénragero. Vit. Anonym. 5

3 Diodor. XIIT. 103. ‘Sp,

4 Nixas &\aBev elkoow ws Pyotr Kaptorios' mo\\dxts 5é kat devrepeta é\aBe, Vit.
Anonym.

5 Suidas, 5 Welcker, Trilogic, p. 51.

SOPHOCLES. 119

sparingly, adopted, arose from his having given to each of the
plays in his Trilogies an individual completeness which the consti-
tuent parts of an Auschylean Trilogy did not possess. We shall de-
rive some further reasons for believing this from a consideration of
the general principles which guided the art of Sophocles.

That he did act upon general principles is sufficiently proved,
by the fact that he wrote a book on the dramatic chorus. The ob-
jection, which (according to Chameleon) he made to Aidschylus,
that even when his poetry was what it ought to be, it was so only
by accident}, is just such a remark as a finished artist would make
to a self-taught genius. But we might conclude, without any ex-
trinsic authority, from a moderate acquaintance with his remaining
Tragedies, that he is never beautiful or sublime, without intending
to be so: we see that he has a complete apprehension of the proper
means of arriving at the objects of tragical imitation: he feels that
his success depends not upon his subject, but upon himself; he has
the faculty of “making with right reason ;” in short, he is an artist
in the strictest sense of the word?. ‘Sophocles,’ says one who has
often more than guessed at truth, “is the summit of Greek art;
but one must have scaled many a steep before one can estimate his
height: itis because of his classical perfection that he has gene-
rally been the least admired of the great ancient poets; for little of
his beauty is perceptible to a mind that is not thoroughly princi-
pled and imbued with the spirit of antiquity*.” The ancients
themselves fully appreciated Sophocles: his great contemporary
Aristophanes will not expose Aischylus to the risk of a contest
with a man to whom he has voluntarily given up a part of the
tragic throne, and to whom he delegates his authority when he
returns to the upper world‘: his numerous victories and the im-
provements which /%schylus found it necessary to borrow from
him, are all so many proofs of the estimation in which he was held
by his countrymen: but it is to be feared that few, if any, of his
modern readers, will ever be able to divest themselves completely
of all their modern associations, and thus set a just value upon

1 See Athen. I. 22, x. 428, quoted in the sect. on Adschylus.

2 Aristot. Lth. Nicom. vi. p. 1140, 1. 10, Bekker: @oru dé rex, waca wept yeverw
kai TO TEXVG LEW, Kal Bewpe, 8mrws ay yenrat Te TOV evdeXomeven Kal elvat kal (a elvat
Kal oy n apxn év TG movodvre GNAG fh ev TS Tocouévy..—_—7 pev ov TEXVN Wowep elpyrat
é&us Tus weTa Abyou ToinriKy €oTe.

3 Guesses at Truth, Vol. 1. p. 267. Comp. Miiller, Hist. Lit. (fr. c. XXIV. § 13.

4 Comp. Aristoph. Ran. 790, 1515. -

120 SOPHOCLES.

productions so entirely and absolutely Greek as the Tragedies of
Sophocles. If we would understand them at all, we must always
bear in mind that he was the successor of Adschylus; that he in-
tended rather to follow up and improve upon his predecessor and
contemporary, than to create an entirely new species for himself.
Art always follows at the heels of genius. Genius creates forms of
beauty; art marshals them, and sets them in order, forming them
into groups and regulating the order of their successive appearances.
Genius hews rude masses from the mines of thought, but art gives
form and usefulness to the shapeless ore. Adschylus felt what a
Greek Tragedy ought to be, as a religious union of the two ele-
ments of the national poetry; and he modelled bold, colossal groups,
such as a Phidias might have conceived, but not such as a Phidias
would have executed. Sophocles, with a highly cultivated mind,
and a deep and just perception of what is beautiful in art, was en-
abled to effect an outward realization of his great contemporary’s
conceptions; and what was already perfected in the mind of Auschy-
lus, this he exhibited, in its most perfect form, before the eyes of
all Athens. The Tragedy of Sophocles was not generically dif-
ferent from that of Aischylus; it bore the same relation to its fore-
runner that a finished statue bears to an unfinished group. For
when Sophocles added a third actor to the two of Adschylus!, he
gave so great a preponderance to the dialogue, that the chorus, or .
the base on which the three plays stood, was unable any longer to
support them ; in assigning to each of them a separate pedestal, he
rendered them independent, and destroyed the necessary connexion
which had previously bound them together; so that it became from
thenceforth a matter of choice with the poet, whether he repre-
sented with Trilogies or with separate plays. As we have before
said, we think Sophocles did both: the number of his satyrical
dramas shows that his exhibitions were principally Tetralogies, and
we are willing to accept the statement in Suidas, that he sometimes
brought out his Tragedies one by one. What A’schylus, following
his natural taste, practised in the internal economy of his pieces,
for instance, in the exclusion of every thing beneath the dignity of
Tragedy, this Sophocles adopted as a rule of art, to be applied or
departed from as the occasion might suggest. The words which

1 Tpets 5é [bmroxpiras] Kal oKxnvoypag¢lay Lopoxdjs. Arist. Poet. tv. 16. Tov 6é
rplrov [bmroxpirhy] ZopoxN 4s, xal cuverAnpwoev thy rpayydlav. Diog. Laert. in Plat.

SOPHOCLES. 121

Landor puts into his mouth express what appear to us to have been
his general feelings’. “ I am,” says he, in reference to the master-
works at Athens, “only the interpreter of the heroes and divinities
who are looking down upon me.” He felt himself called upon to
make an advance in the tragic art, corresponding to those improve-
ments which Phidias had made upon the works of his immediate
forerunners: he did so, and with reference to the same objects.
The persons who figured in the old legends, and in the poems of
the epic Cycle, were alone worthy in his opinion of the cothurnus ;
and if ever an inferior or ludicrous character appears in his Trage-
dies, he is but a slavish instrument in the poet’s hands to work out
the irony of the piece; a streak of bright colour thrown into the
picture, in order to render more conspicuous its tragic gloom.

Besides the addition of a tprtaywvarns*, some other improve-
ments are ascribed to this poet; he seems to have made the
costumes more appropriate, to have introduced scene-painting,
and to have altered the distribution of the chorus.

The public character of Sophocles was, as we have seen, rather
inconsistent. In the earlier years of his political life he was a
partizan of Pericles, and his plays contain many passages evidently
written with a view to recommend himself to that statesman. In
the Antigone he advises the Athenians to yield a ready and
implicit obedience to the man whom, for the time being, they had
placed over themselves’; and if, as we believe, the Cfdipus at
Colonus was written just before the breaking out of the Pelopon-
nesian war, it is more than probable that the refusal of Theseus
to deliver up Cidipus, though a polluted person, has reference
to the demand made by the confederates with regard to the
expulsion of Pericles‘,

The private character of Sophocles was “unfortunately very far
from faultless. He was a notorious sensualist®, and, in his later

+ Landor’s /maginary Conversations, I. p. 142.
2 Which is also attributed to Auschylus (Themistius, p. 316).

3 670. "ANN dv wéds oTHcELe TOVSE Xp KAvEw
Kal cuixpa cal dikaca xal ravayria.
See Introduction to the Antigone, p. xv-
4 Comp. d. Col. 943 sqq. with Thucyd. I. 126, 127. Lachmann in the Rhein.
Mus. for 1827, pp. 327 fol.
5 Cic. Offic. 1. 40; de Senect. 47; Athen. XII. p. 510; XIII. p. 592; XIII. p. 603;
Plato, 1. Resp. p. 329 B.

days, rather avaricious’. He possessed, however, those agreeable
qualities which are very often found along with habits of vicious
indulgence ; he was exceedingly good natured, always contented?,
and an excellent boon companion’. His faults were due rather to
his age and country than to any innate depravity. His Tragedies
are full of the strongest recommendations of religion and morality ;
and we know no ancient poet who has so justly and forcibly
described the infallibility and immortality of God, as opposed to
man’s weakness, ignorance, and liability to error*: or who has set
the beauty of piety and righteousness, and the danger and folly
of impiety and pride, in a stronger and clearer light than he has®.
To characterize the man and his works in one word, calmness
is the prominent feature in the life and writings of Sophocles. In
his politics, an easy indifference to men and measures; in his
private life, contentment and good nature; in his Tragedies, a total
absence of that wild enthusiasm which breaks down the barriers
of common sense, are the manifestations of this rest of mind: his

122 SOPHOCLES.

spirit was
Like a breath of air,
Such as is sometimes seen, and hardly seen,
To brush the still breast of a crystal lake®.

He lived, as it were, in the strong hold of his own unruffled mind,
and unmoved, heard the pattering storm without’. His very

1 “Epyjs. mparov 6 6 Te mpdrret DopoxNéens avypero.
Tpuyatos. evdatmovet’ mdoxer dé Oavpacrdy.
“Epyjs. UM ad Pe
Tpuyatos. ék To0 Logpoxhéous ylyverae Xiuwvlys.
"Epp js. LDimwvidyns ; wos;
wv a“ ¢, * 4
Tpuyatos. Or, yépwy &y kat campés,

képdous éxare kav éml pirds mréx. Pax, 695 sqq.

2 Aristoph. Ran. 82.

3 See the amusing anecdote from Jon, Athen. XIII. p. 603 E.

4 We allude to Antig. 604, which is generally misunderstood. The connexion of
ideas in the passage is as follows : ‘‘ What mortal transgression or sin is Jupiter liable
to, Jupiter the sleepless and everlasting god? But mortal men know nothing of the
future till it comes upon them.” We should certainly read tepBacia in the nomi-
native case. Tis trepBacla xaréyer Teay Sivacw; is equivalent to red Sivacts Karéxet
odrwa imepBaclay. Compare Theognis, 743—6, which Sophocles had in his head :

Kal rodr’, dfavdrwv Baowed, mas éore Sikarov
"Epywv boris avnp éxtds éav ddixwr,

My tiv’ bwepBaclnyv ckaréxwv, und’ Spxov aderpdv,
"AAG Oixatos édv, wh Ta Olikaca mdOn;

5 See the beautiful chorus in Wd, Tyr. 863 sqq.

6 Wordsworth (Zxcursion, p. 90).

7 He says himself, in a fragment of the 7ympanista (No. 563):

Pei, ped, rh rovrov yapya petfov dv NaBors,~

SOPHOCLES. 123

burial created peace out of war, and hostile armies held a truce,
as the tomb closed upon one loved by all Athens, admired by
all Greece, and destined to teach and delight the civilized world
in ages yet to come.

Of the seven iol of Sophocles, which have come down to us,
only two are ref¢rred by express testimony to fixed dates—the
Antigone, which, as we have seen, was acted in B.c. 440, and the
Philoctetes, which appeared in B.c. 4091. Although it is stated that
the Qtdipus Coloneus was first acted, after the death of the poet, in
BoC. 401, and though, as we have seen, a pretty story refers its
composition to the end of the poet’s life, it is almost generally
agreed among seholars that it belongs to the most vigorous period
of his life, though it may have received additions and modifications
at a later period®. With the exception then of the Antigone and
Philoctetes, we have only internal evidence to fix the succession of
the extant Tragedies. And here we cannot, as in the case of Ads-
chylus, divide the plays into distinct groups indicating an earlier
and a later period of dramatic art. They all exhibit the tragic
power of Sophocles in its full maturity, and they all exemplify that
wonderful power of drawing upon the most recondite treasures of
the Greek language which made Sophocles a favourite with Virgil,
the only Latin poet who exhibits the same combination of profound
thought and elaborately chastened style*. It is true that Sopho-
cles, in an important citation of his words preserved by Plutarch,
recognized three epochs in his own style—first, the tumid grandeur,
which he had borrowed from A%schylus; secondly, a harsh and
artificial employment of terms, which he had introduced himself;

ToU ys émipatcavra Kad tard oréyy
TuKvns akovoa Wexaddos ebdotorr ppevl.
It is clear that this, like many other passages referring to escape from the sea,
expresses the feelings, and in part the language of those, who were initiated into the
Eleusinian mysteries. Cf. Eurip. Bacch. 900; Demosth. Coron. p. 516 a; Lucret. 1.
Mth; Glen Ate, Ir. 7. -
1 Arg. Philoct. ; €5:6dx0n éri TNavKirrov, rp&ros Av Lopoxdj7s.
2 See Bernhardy, Grundriss, 11. p. 788.
3 Virgil says (clog, VIII. 10):
Sola Sophocleo tua carmina digna cothurno,

And there are examples in his poetry of a very close imitation of the peculiarities of
the Sophoclean style. There are at least four imitations of the line in the Ajax, 674:
deway dnua mvevudtwy éxoluce
oTévovTa mévyTov—
namely, Eelog. 11. 26; Georg. Iv. 484; dn. 1. 66, v. 763; and the figure in Georg.
ll. 243, nigramque alte subjectat arenam, is clearly borrowed from Soph. Antiy. 590:
kKeNatvav Ova Kal Suvodveuor.

124 SOPHOCLES.

and thirdly, the style which he considered best and most suited to
the representation of human character’. If we are right in sup-
posing that this citation really gives us the words of Sophocles, and
that we must therefore take the participle d:amrematyos in its old
Attic rather than in its subsequent Hellenistic sense”, it will im-
ply either that both the first two styles belonged to the very earliest
period of his literary career*, or that he had merely amused him-
self with sporting in those styles‘; and in either case we can hardly
suppose that they are to be found in Tragedies subsequent to the
Antigone. On the other hand, all the extant Tragedies, even the
Philoctetes, which is known to have been produced by Sophocles in
his old age, exhibit traces of that intentional obscurity with regard
to which it has been well observed®, that ‘“‘ Sophocles often plays
at hide-and-seek with the significations of words, in order that the
mind, having exerted itself to find out his meaning, may comprehend
it more vividly and distinctly when it is once arrived at.” The
claim, which Sophocles makes for the style of his mature age,
namely, that it is the best adapted for the delineation of human
character, is combined, by the echo of an old and able criticism,
with a recognition of his elaborate art and ingenuity® And we
are inclined to the belief that he never shook off entirely the pecu-
liarities of his second style; but that, as he advanced in life, he
combined with it more and more a readier flow of dramatic oratory,
such as we find in his contemporary Euripides’. As far as this
comparative facility admits of recognition, it may help us to class
with the Antigone, as his earliest extant play, the Electra, which is

1 Plutarch, de Profect. Virt. Sent. p. 79 B: 6 Lopoxdys eye, Tov AloxvAov Siatre-
maixws dyKov, elra Td mikpoy Kal KaTdTexvoy TAS avToOU KaTackev7s, els Tplrov HOn TO THS
Aéfews peraBdddew eldos S1rep éorly 7OcKwTarov Kal BéAricTov. The substitution of
avrov for av’rov, and the introduction of eds before rpiroy, are due to Miiller, /ist.
Gr. Lit. 1. p. [340] 449. In a note to Miiller we have explained xaracxevy in its op-
position to \éés, as above.

2 Merris, p. 158: éperxedety ’Arrix@s* Starralfew, ‘EXX\nuix@s. Cf. Ltym. M. p. 621,
54: UAdrow daralfe: ri N\éEw ws BapBapov.

3 This is Miiller’s translation: ‘*‘ Having put away along with his boyish days.”

4 This seems to be in accordance with the only use of the word by an author of
the classical age: Plato, Leges, vi. 769 A: Kad@s Tolvwy dy huiv h mpecBuTav eudpwv
mada expr dedp’ dy eln Ta viv Staveracpev7.

5 Miiller, Hist. Gir. Lit. 1. p. [356] 469.

8 Vit. Sophocl. ad jin.: jOorove? 5é Kal mouxi\\e Kal rots émwonuace TexviKGs
XpATat, “Ounpixhy éxuarrépmevos xdpw. otde 5é Karpov cummerphoar Kal mpdypuara dor’
€x puxpod nusarixlov 7 A€éLews tds boy 7MoToLewy mpbgwmor.

7 Miiller, 1. p. [356] 470, refers especially to the speeches of Menelaus, Agamem-
non, and Teucer in the Ajax, and to (Xdipus’ defence in the @dipus Coloneus,

SOPHOCLES, 125

its counterpart in representing the contrast of two sisters, and so
making the third actor play an important and essential character in
the development of the drama. The Zrachiniw seems to claim the
third place on account of the difficulty of the language, and other
features of strong resemblance to the Antigone. ‘Then we should
class together the Qdipus Tyrannus and the Cidipus Coloneus
with their connected subjects and not dissimilar mode of treatment.
And we should associate the Phdloctetes with the Ajax, in which
also Ulysses appears as the leading instrument in the development
of the plot. We will briefly characterize the separate plays
considered in this order of succession.

In the Antigone the main object is to show the contrast between
the heroine, who insists on burying her brother against the will of
the state répresented by Creon, and the latter, who violates the
laws of heayen by denying the rites of sepulture to Polyneices and
burying Antigone alive. Both, in a certain sense, have justice on
their side, and therefore both excite the sympathy of the audience ;
both, in another sense, are guilty of violating the law—the princess
the law of man and the king the law of God—and therefore the
tragical results in both cases assume the form of a righteous doom.
The plot is rendered more interesting by the contrast of the cha-
racters of the two sisters, Antigone and Ismene, and by the intro-
duction of the love of Hemon, Creon’s son, for his cousin An-
tigone. In this latter incident the play approaches nearly to some
of the characteristics of the romantic drama. And on the whole
there is perhaps no Greek Tragedy which makes a stronger appeal
to the feelings, and which is more exquisitely finished in all its
parts, than the Antigone of Sophocles. If the Agamemnon of Ais-
chylus approximates in some points to the grandeur of Macbeth,
there is much in the Antigone to remind us of Romeo and Juliet}.

The Electra, which Dioscorides classes with the Antigone as
exemplifying the highest perfection of the art of Sophocles?, is in

1 The present writer has endeavoured to exhibit all the characteristics of -this
master-piece of Greek Tragedy in an edition and translation of the Antigone, published
in 1848.

2 Anth. Pal. Vil. 37:

a. TUuBos 85 éor’, BvOpwre, Dodpoxdéos, dv mapa Movoay
ipiv mapbectny, iepos wy, éhaxov"
és pe Tov éx P\rodvTos, é7e TplBoov aréovTa,
aplvwov, és xpucéov coxa peOnpudcaro,
Kal Nerrhy évédvcey adouvpylia* rod 6é OavdyTos
everov dpxnoThy 770 dvéravoa dda.

126 SOPHOCLES.

many respects the counterpart of that play. The strongest emotion
displayed is the sisterly love of the heroine for her brother Orestes,
whom she supposes to have perished; and the contrast between
Electra and Chrysothemis corresponds exactly to that between An-
tigone and Ismene. There is another strong sentiment in Electra’s
sorrow for her murdered father, and in the heroic resolve of the
lonely and persecuted maiden to slay Adgisthus with her own hand.
The highest point of tragic interest is reached when Electra, having
uttered her beautiful address to the urn, which, as she supposes,
contains the ashes of her brother, is raised from despair to over-
powering joy by recognizing him in the stranger who had himself
given her the simulated remains of Orestes. ‘The matricidal cata-
strophe at the end is terrible without being extravagant, and the
manner in which Adgisthus, who had come home confidently hoping
to hear that Orestes was dead, is obliged to lift the covering from
the corpse of Clytemnestra, produces a striking effect, without
falling into melo-dramatie vulgarity.

If the Electra resembles the Antigone in the prominence which
it gives to sisterly affection, and in the contrast between the pairs
of sisters in each play, the Zrachinie is not without very striking
indications of a similarity of manner and conception which refers it
to the same period in the poet’s literary activity. Characters and
descriptions in both plays seem to have a certain resemblance’.
Both plays have an dpynotixoy or dancing song instead of a stasi-
mon*®. ‘The exaltation of the power of love is similarly expressed
in both®. And figures of speech*, and even phraseology® in the
one play, sound like echoes of something similar in the other. But
while the Antigone is perhaps the most vigorous and perfect of the
plays of Sophocles, the. Zrachini@ is undoubtedly his feeblest effort.

B. OhBios ws adyabhv axes ordow H 5 évt yepalv
Kovpimos, €x moins Oe SiwacKkaNlns ;

a, eire cou Avtvydvny eireiv pidov, ovx dy audpros,
elite kal "HXéxrpav’ aupbrepar yap dxpor.

1 Lichas reminds us of the Sentinel in the Antigone, and Hylius pleading with his
father for Deianeira is the counterpart of Hemon, as the advocate of his bride. The
silence of Deianeira on hearing of her husband’s fate is paralleled by that of Eurydice,
and the descriptive speeches are framed on the same model.

2 Cf. Antig. 1115 sqq.; Trach. 205 sqq.

3 Cf. Antig. 781 sqq.; Trach. 497 sqq.

4 Cf. Antig. 586 sqq.; Trach. 112 sqq.

° As in the almost unique examples of the tertiary predicate addxputos (Antig. 881 ;
Trach. 106) for dere od daxptovew (Greek Grammar, art. 498).

SOPHOCLES. 127

It turns entirely on the justifiable jealousy of Deianeira, who
really loves her husband Hercules, and, fearing that he had given
his affections to Tole, sends him the poisoned shirt of Nessus, in the
sincere belief that it will operate as a love-charm. It produces, as
the treacherous Centaur intended, the most exquisite sufferings,
and Hercules is laid on the funeral pile to consume his mortal
frame, and so to escape his misery, and to receive immortal life.
But Deianeira slays herself on learning the consequences of an
error, which, as her son declares, she had committed with the best
intentions!, And Hercules, who had at first broken forth into the
most violent imprecations against his wife, recognizes the decree of
fate in the calamity in which she had been the unwilling agent.

There are none of the plays of Sophocles which exhibit more
strikingly than the two which bear the name of Gdipus, that
solemn irony which the genius of a modern scholar has detected in
the frame-work of this poet’s Tragedies?. ‘This irony consists in
the contrast, which the spectator, well acquainted with the legend-
ary basis of the tragedy, is enabled to draw between the real state
of the case and the conceptions supposed to be entertained by the
person represented on the stage. It is this contrast, regarded from
different points of view, which makes the two plays about Cidipus
the counterparts of one’ another, and induces us to think that,
whether they were or were not written nearly at the same time’,
they were intended by the poet to form constituent parts of one
picture.

The Gdipus Tyrannus represents the king of Thebes, in the
full confidence of his own glory‘ at the beginning of the play, but
brought step by step to the consciousness of the horrible guilt in
which he had unawares involved himself. “The wrath of heaven,”
says the expositor to whom we have referred®, “ has been pointed
against the afflicted city, only that it might fall with concentrated
force on the head of a single man; and he who is its object stands
alone calm and secure: unconscious of his own misery he can
afford pity for the unfortunate: to him all look up for succour: and,

1 Trach. 1136: drav TO xphw Wuapre, XpNOTA Meomery.

2 Thirlwall, On the Irony of Sophocles, Philol. Mus. 1. pp. 483 sqq.

3 The silence of Jocasta (1075) brings this play into a connexion of manner with
the Antigone and Trachinie.

48: 6 maou KNewds Oidirous Kaovmevos.

5 Thirlwall, p. 496.

128 SOPHOCLES.

as in the plenitude of wisdom and power, he undertakes to trace
the evil, of which he is himself the sole author, to its secret
source.” The greatest dramatic ingenuity is shown in the manner
in which (Edipas investigates the dreadful reality, and the hearer,
though acquainted with the plot, shudders when Cidipus becomes
at last conscious that he is about to hear the whole extent of his
calamity’. The powerful and self-confident king of the early part
of the play becomes the blind and helpless outcast of the con-
cluding scene; but his sins were involuntary”, and his punishment
and humiliation are his own act; so that the sufferer leaves the
stage an object of the spectator’s compassion, and a fit hero for the
drama which renders poetic justice to this poor child of fate.

In the @dipus Coloneus the exiled king appears supported by
his affectionate daughter Antigone, and dependent on the charity of
strangers. His outward condition could not be more helpless and
pitiable. But he is on the verge of his predicted resting-place.
The sanctuary of the awful goddesses, who persecuted the volun-
tary matricide Orestes, is opened to him, -the unwilling murderer of
his father, as a place of repose in which he would exercise a pro-
tecting power over the land which received him. The Thebans,
who had expelled him as a polluted person, strive in vain to get
him back; his son Polyneices, whom he regarded as a parricide’,
seeks his protection, but is rejected with imprecations ; and Cidipus
descends to his sacred tomb, summoned by thunder from on high4,
and led by Hermes and the goddess of the shades®, to the spot
where he would be for ever the protecting genius of the land of
Attica®.

The Ajaz represents the consequences of ‘the frenzy into which
that hero was driven by the disappointment of his claims to the
armour of Achilles. Under the influence of a strong delusion,
which Athena, in the prologue, states that she had brought upon
him, he attacks the flocks and herds of the Greek army while he
imagines that he is slaying or leading away captive his successful
rival Ulysses and the chieftains who had slighted him. On coming
to his senses he calmly resolves on self-destruction as the only
means of withdrawing himself from the disgrace and punishment

1 Gd. Tyr. 1169: pds aitG 7 elul 7G dew Néyew—xbywy’ dxovew.
2 Gd. Col. 266: tay Epya ov mwemovOdr’ ésti paGddov n Sedpaxéra.

3 1361: cod dovéws weuvnuévos.
4 1456 aqq. 5 6g § 1523 sqq.
59 8qq 5 523 ©qq

SOPHOCLES. ; 129

which he has incurred. After a fine scene, in which he takes leave
of his son Eurysaces, he withdraws to a distant part of the camp,
professedly for the purpose of purifying himself from the stains of
his senseless bloodshed, and of burying the sword of Hector. The
chorus rejoices in the hope that his temper is soothed and softened,
and that all will be well. In the meantime, his brother Teucer,
who has passed through the camp on his return from an expedition,
and has there seen the prophet Calchas, sends a messenger to insure
the hero’s detention at home, because the soothsayer has declared
that Athena is persecuting Ajax for that day only, and that he will
be saved if he survives it. The chorus proceed to search for him.
The scene having changed, we see Ajax, who, after an energetic
speech, falls upon his sword. And his body is found by his
friends, whose lamentations are interrupted by the successive arrival
of Menelaus and Agamemnon, who come to forbid his burial. The
contest between Teucer and these chieftains is terminated unex-
pectedly by the intervention of Ulysses, the bitterest foe of the
deceased warrior, who comes forward to proclaim his excellences,
and to plead for the respect due to his remains. And in this way
a Tragedy, on which the poet has expended all the resources of his
art, is brought to a conclusion, which satisfies the prepossessions of
the Athenian audience, by a proper apotheosis of their national
hero. ; ;

In the Philoctetes, Ulysses appears as the hated adversary of
another great warrior; but though the issue of the play is in ac-
cordance with the object of his designs, the crafty and politic chief-
tain does not gain the character for generosity, which is accorded
to him at the end of the Ajaz. It was by his advice that Philoc-
tetes had been left on the island of Lemnos, because his wound had
made him a noisome pest in the camp. But as it is declared that
Troy will not fall without the arrows of Hercules, which Philoctetes
possesses, Ulysses volunteers, in company with the young Neopto-
lemus, to bring him back to the army. Neoptolemus is at first
persuaded to become the instrument in the deceit which Ulysses
has determined to practise. But his young and generous nature
recoils. He discloses the meditated treachery to Philoctetes, and
the cunningly laid plan for getting the wounded archer to Troy is
utterly frustrated. Here is the dignus vindice nodus‘; and Her-

1 Horace, Ars Poet. 1gt.

D. T. G. 9

130 SOPHOCLES.

cules descends from Olympus to command Philoctetes to go to Troy
and share with Neoptolemus in the glory of its capture. The op-
position between the three characters is thus reconciled, and they
are all justified: Ulysses in his public-spirited policy, Neoptolemus
in his straightforward veracity, and Philoctetes in his natural re-
sentment. It is to be observed, however, that this use of the Deus
ex machina, which is found only in the latest play of Sophocles,
and which is considered to have been mainly due to Euripides, is in
itself an indication of declining dramatic power}.

1 Cie. de Nat. Deor. 1. 20, § 52: ‘Ut tragici poete, quum explicare argumenti
exitum non potestis, confugitis ad deum.”

a 00 eh dl DD in

SECTION IV:

EURIPIDES.

Aischylus ruft Titaner herauf und Gitter herunter ;
Sophocles fiihrt anmuthig der Heldinnen Reih’n und Heroen ;
Endlich Euripides schwatzt ein sophistischer Rhetor am Markie.

A. W. SCHLEGEL.

ol mév yap apxatoe TodiTiK@s Erolouy NéyovTas, of 5é viv pyroptKGs.
ARBRISTOTELES.

Like as many substances in nature, which are solid, do putrify and corrupt into worms ;
so uw is the property of a good and sound knowledge, to putrify and dissolve into a
number of subtle, idle, wnwholesome, and, as I may term them, vermiculate questions,
which have indeed a kind of quickness, and life of spirit, but no soundness of matter
or goodness of quality. Bacon,

URIPIDES, the son of Mnesarchus, was born in the island of

Salamis, on the day of the glorious sea-fight (B.c. 480)!. His
mother, Clito, had been sent over to Salamis with the other Athe-
‘man women when Attica was given up to the invading army of
Xerxes”; and the name of the poet, which is formed like a patro-
nymic from the Euripus, the scene of the first successful resistance
to the Persian navy, shows that the minds of his parents were full

1 Diog. Laert. 11. 45: uépa Kal jv of "ENAnves evavydxour év Ladapuin. Plutarch.
Sympos. vit. 1: éréxyOn Kad’ qv uépay of "EXXnves éerpévavto Tos Ilépcas. Suid.
The Parian marble places his birth five years earlier, and we shall see in the passage of
Aulus Gellius, quoted below, that his age was not known with certainty while he was

yet alive.

2 He belonged properly to the deme Phlyz of the Cecropid tribe, but he, perhaps,
had some land in Salamis, and sometimes resided there. ‘“ Philochorus refert,” says
Aulus Gellius, ‘‘in insulé Salamine speluncam esse tetram et horridam, quam nos
vidimus, in qua Euripides tragcedias scriptitarit.” Noct, Att. xv. 20. (Whenever we
have quoted no other authority, it will be presumed that we refer either to the life of
Euripides by Thomas Magister, or to the anonymous life published by Elmsley, from.
the Ambrosian MS., and printed at the end of his edition of the Bacche.)

- 9—2

eg aie

132 EURIPIDES.

of the stirring events of that momentous crisis. His father was
certainly a man of property, else how could his son have been a
upil of the extravagant! Prodicus? It would appear that he was
— .
also born of a good family?. But this is no argument, as Philo-
chorus supposes’, against the implications of Aristophanes‘, and
the direct statement of Theopompus®, that his mother was a seller
of herbs; for it is quite possible that his father may have made a
marriage of disparagement. Like Sophocles, he was well edu-
cated. He attended the lectures of Anaxagoras, Prodicus, and Pro-
tagoras; and was so well versed in the gymnastic exercises of the
day, that he gained two victories in the Eleusinian and Thesean
athletic games when only seventeen years old. Mnesarchus had
intended that he should enter the lists of Olympia among the
younger combatants, but some objection was raised against him on
the score of age, and he was excluded from the contest®. To his
other accomplishments he added a taste for painting, which he cul-
tivated with some success; a few specimens of his talents in this
respect were preserved for many years at Megara. He brought out
his first Tragedy, the Peliades, in (B.c.) 4557, consequently at an
earlier age than either of his predecessors. He was third on this
occasion, but gained the first prize fourteen years after’, and also in
1 See Rhein. Mus. for 1832, p. 22 fol.
2 Athenzus, X. p. 424. 3 Apud Suid. Edger.
4 Ilpormaxifouévas oppo’ tyas bd
Evpitidov, rot THs NaxavorwrnTplas. Thesmoph. 386.
Again, speaking of Euripides, the female orator says—
"Aypia yap nuds, ® yuvatkes, Spd Kaxd,
"Ar’ & dyplowt rots Naxdvors alrds Tpadels. 455.
Diceopolis, in the Acharnians, among his other requests, says to Euripides—
ZKdvdrkd woe bbs, wnrpddev Sedeyméevos. 454.
The same insinuation is more obscurely conveyed in the Hquites—

Nik. mas dv otv more
Etrow ay airé bq7ra KomwWeupeTceKkGs ;
Anu. My po ye, wh mol, uh Stackavdcxlons. 17.
And in the Rane:
Alox. “Adnbes, J rat ris dpovpatas Beot; 830.

5 Euripidis poetz matrem Theopompus agrestia olera vendentem victum quesisse
dicit. oct. Att, Xv. 20.

§ Mnesarchus, roborato exercitatoque filii sui corpore, Olympiam certaturum inter
athletas pueros deduxit. Ac primo quidem in certamen per ambiguam etatem
receptus non est. Post Eleusinio et Theswo certamine pugnavit et coronatus est.
Aul. Gell. Noct. Alt. Xv. 20. .

7 Arund. Marble, No. 61. It appears, however, that he had applied himself to
dramatic composition before this. Aul. Gell. xv. 20. See Hartung, Euripides Resti-
tutus, I. pp. 6 sqq.

8 Arund, Marble, 61.

EURIPIDES. 133

428 3.c., when the Hippolytus was represented!, though he does
not appear to have been often so successful. His reputation, how-
ever, spread far and wide, and if we may believe Plutarch, some of
the Athenians, who had survived the disastrous termination of the
Syracusan expedition, obtained their liberty or a livelihood by
reciting and teaching such passages from the poems of Euripides as
they happened to recollect’. We shall show by and by that Euri-
pides was one of the advocates for that expedition ; and we are told
that he wrote a funeral poem on the Athenian soldiers who fell in
Sicily. Late in life he retired to Magnesia, and from thence pro-
ceeded to Macedonia, where his popularity procured him the pro-
tection and friendship of King Archelaus. It is not known what
induced him to quit Athens, though many causes might be as-
signed. The infidelity of his two wives, Melito and Cheerila,
which is supposed to have occasioned the misogynism for which he
was notorious, may perhaps have made him desirous of escaping
from the scenes of his domestic discomforts, especially as his mis-
fortunes were continually recalled to his remembrance by the taunts
and jeers of his merciless political enemy, Aristophanes*. Besides,

u Argument to the Hippol. : eduddx On ért ’Awelvovos dpxovros dNumridde wh’ eree
TeTapTw. patos Evpiridns’ devrepos lopav* rpiros “Iwv.

2 Suidas says he gained only five victories, one of which was with a posthumous play.

3 "Evioe 6¢ kal dv Hipuridny éodOncav. Mddora ydp, ws éouxe, rv évTds “EXAHvov
érbOncay attod Thy movcay of wept SixeNlav’ cal puxpa Tov ddixvoupevew ExdatoTe dely-
para Kal yedpara KoufovTwv éexuavOdvorres, dyamynTr@s meTedlbocav adios. Todre
yoov pact Tay cwhéyvTwy olkade cuxvols dordcacbar Tov Kiperlinv piroppdvws, kal
dunyeioOac Tods mév, Ste Sovrevovres aelOnoay, exdideavres, dca Tay éxelvov wommudrwr
é€uéuvnvro, Tovs 6’, dre wavwmevor pmeTa Thy paxnvy, Tpopys Kal vdaros weTéX\aBov THY
MeNGy doavres. Ov det OH Oavudfew, bre Tods Kavvious past, wrolou mpocpepomévov Tots
Acuéow, bd NnoTpldwv Sewkopevou, LN déxeaOau To TpBrov adr’ amelpyew elra pevToL
dramuvPavomevous, el ywaoKxovow domara Tov Hupuridov, dnodvrwy éxelywv, o'rw mapeivar
katayayew 7d motor, Plutarch, Nicias, oxx1x. We have perhaps an additional proof
of the lasting popularity of Euripides i in Syracuse, in the fact that Archomelus, who
composed an epigram in B.C, 220, on the great ship of Hiero (Anth. Pal. Appendix
15), and who was therefore more or less connected with Sicily, writes thus on the
poet’s inimitable excellence (Anth. Pal. vil. 50, p. 321):

Tiv Hipumiéw unr’ eoxeo unr’ ériBddXov,
dvcBatov avOpwiros oinov, aodoléra.

rein prev yap lOety Kal émixporos’ jv dé Tis adThy
elcBalyy, xaherod tpnxutépn oKbd\oTos"

dv 6€ Ta Mndeins Alnridos dxpa xapdéys,
duyjuwv Kelon vépbev’ ~a oreddvous.

4 Ran. 1045:
Eurip. Ose yap jv tHs "Adpodirns oddév cox
4fischyl. pnoé vy’ éreln:
"ANN éml col ro Kal Tots cotow moANh WoNdod “mrikab7rTo.
“Qore ye Kabrév ce Kar’ oby é8arev.
Bacchus. Ny} tov Ala rotro yé roe 57°
“A yap és Tas dAdorpias éroles, abrds TovToLoy EmANYNS.

eo
*,

134 EURIPIDES.

he appears to have been very intimate with Socrates and Alci-
biades, the former of whom is said to have assisted him in the
composition of his Tragedies!; and when Alcibiades won the
chariot race at Olympia, Euripides wrote a song in honour of his
victory*. That Socrates was, even at this time, very unpopular, is
exceedingly likely®; and Alcibiades was a condemned exile. Per-
haps, then, Euripides only followed the dictates of prudence in
withdrawing from a country where his philosophical‘, as well as
his political sentiments, exposed him to continual danger. At the
court of Archelaus, on the contrary, he was treated with the great-
est distinction, and was even admitted to the private counsels of the
king. He wrote some plays in Macedonia, in one of which (the
Bacche) he seems to have been inspired by the wild scenery of the
country’ where he was residing; and the story, according to which
he is torn to pieces by dogs*, just as his hero Pentheus is rent
asunder by the infuriated Bacchanals, arose perhaps from a con-
fusion between the poet and the last subject on which he wrote. It
is clearly a fabrication, for Aristophanes in the Frogs would cer-
tainly have alluded to the manner of his death, had there been any

1 “Yaertius (in Socrat.) has preserved a couplet which cunningly brings this

charge:
Ppvyes, earl kawdv dpaua Toor’ Edpurldov,
"Qc kal ra ppvyav’ brorlOnot LwKparyns.
Allusion is made to the same imputation in a line of Antiphanes (Athen. Iv. 134):
‘O Ta Kepdaa cvyypdpwv Hvpirldy,
where xepddaia are the sententious sayings which Socrates was reputed to have
furnished. Atlian (Var. Hist. 11. 13) states that Socrates seldom went to the theatre,
except to see some new Tragedy of Euripides performed.

This philosophising in his dramas gave Euripides the name of the stage philo-
sopher; Euripides, auditor Anaxagore, quem philosophum Athenienses scenicum
appellaverunt. Vitruv. vir. in pref.”—Former Editor. See Dindorf, in Poet. Scen.
Pp: 574-

? Plutarch, Alcibiad. c. x1.: Aéyee 8 6 Hipurtins & TG domart Taira’

Zé 0 delcoua, & KXewlou rai.
Kanov a vica’ xdd\orov 3 8
Myiels d&AXos ‘E\Xd ve

"Appare rpSra Spapye Kal devrepa
Kai rpira Bava 8 dmrovyrl,

Trls orep0&r’ édala

Kdpuxe Body mapadobvac.

% Archelaus invited Socrates also to his court. Aristot. Rhet. 11. 23.

4 Aristot. Rhet. m1. 15.

* See Elmsley on the argument, p. 4. In v. 400, we should read Ilé\\av for
Ilddov,

° Hermesianax Colophonius (Athen. x11. 598); Ovid, Ibis, 395; Aul. Gell. Noct.
Attic. Xv. 20; Val. Max. 1x. 12.—Pausanias (I. p. 3) seems to doubt the truth of the
common account. Dionysius Byzantius expressly denies it (A nthol. 111. 36).

EURIPIDES. 135

thing remarkable in it. He died B.c. 406, on the same day on
which Dionysius assumed the tyranny!. He was buried at Pella,
contrary to the wishes of his countrymen, who requested Archelaus
to send his remains to Athens, where however a cenotaph was
erected to his memory with this inscription:

Mvdpa pev “EXXas arrac’ Kvpitidouv: ootéa 8 ioyet
I) Maxeddv 7 yap d5éEato Tépya Biov.

Ilatpis & ‘EXXabdos “EXXas, "AOHvat’ mrEtoTa 5é Movoas
Tépwras, €k mo\N@v Kal TOV émawov éxEl.

- Euripides was the last of the Greek Tragedians properly so
called. ‘The sure sign of the general decline of an art,” says
an able writer, “is the frequent occurrence, not of deformity,
but of misplaced beauty. In general, Tragedy is corrupted by
eloquence, and Comedy by wit®.” This symptom of the decline
of Tragedy is particularly conspicuous in Euripides, and so much
of tragical propriety is given up for the sake of rhetorical display,
that we sometimes feel inclined to doubt whether we are reading
the works of a poet or a teacher of elocution®. It is this quality of
Euripides which has in all ages rendered him a much greater
favourite than either Auschylus or Sophocles; it is this also which
made the invention of 'Tragi-comedy by him so natural and so easy;
it is this which recommended him to Menander as the model for
the dialogue of his New Comedy ; and it is for this that Quintilian
so strongly recommends him to the notice of the young aspirant
after oratorical fame‘. In the middle ages too, Euripides was infi-

1 See Clinton, F. H. 11. p. 81.
2 Lord Macaulay in the Edinburgh Review, No. xe. p. 278.

3 Euripides seems to have been quite prepared to defend the long speeches which
he introduces into his plays. In the Orestes, where there is a complete rhetorical
dvTiNoyia, he makes his hero say (640):

Néyouw’ av Fon’ Ta pakpa Tov opuKpOv oyav
émlarpocbev éort kai cap maddov KdUew.

4 Sed longe clarius illustraverunt hoc opus Sophocles atque Euripides ; quorum in
dispari dicendi via uter sit poeta melior, inter plurimos queritur. Idque ego sane,
quoniam ad przsentem materiam nihil pertinet, injudicatum relinquo. Illud quidem
nemo non fateatur necesse est, iis, qui se ad agendum comparant, utiliorem longe
Kuripidem fore. Namque is et in sermone (quod ipsum reprehendunt, quibus gravitas
et cothurnus et sonus Sophoclis videtur esse sublimior) magis accedit oratorio generi:
et sententiis densus, et in iis, que a sapientibus tradita sunt, pene ipsis par, et in
dicendo ac respondendo cuilibet eorum, qui fuerunt in foro diserti, comparandus. In
affectibus vero cum omnibus mirus, tum in iis, qui miseratione constant, facile pre-
cipuus. Hune et admiratus maxime est (ut szepe testatur) et secutus, quamquam in
opere diverso, Menander. Jnst. Orat. x. 1.67. C.J. Fox remarks (Correspondence,
edited by Lord John Russell, 111. 178) that of all poets Euripides appeared to him
the most useful for a public speaker.

136 EURIPIDES.

nitely better known than the two other great Tragedians; for the
more un-Greek and common-place and rhetorical and hair-splittmg
the former was, the more attractive was he likely to prove in an
age when scholastic subtleties were mistaken for eloquence, minute
distinctions for science, and verbal quibbles for sure evidences of

proficiency in the ars artéwm’. We cannot wonder then that Dante,

who calls his Latin Aristotle “the master of those that know’,”

and an Italian version of Moralia ‘his own ethics®,” should make
no mention of Auschylus and Sophocles in his survey of the shades
of departed poets, but should class the rHetorical Euripides, and
the no less quibbling Agathon, among the greatest of the poets of
Greece’. But if it be easy to explain how the quasi-philosophical
character of Euripides gained him so much popularity among his
less civilized contemporaries, the Sicilians and Macedonians, and
among the semi-barbarous Europeans of the middle ages, we shall
have still less difficulty in explaining how he came to be so unlike
the two great writers who preceded him; one of whom was in
his later days the competitor of Euripides. We have already in-
sisted at some length upon the connexion between the actors of
Sophocles, Auschylus, and their predecessors, and the Homeric
rhapsode. Now the rhapsodes were succeeded by a class of men
whom, for want of a more definitive name, it has been customary to

1 In one form of verbal quibbling, the habit of punning on similar sounds, Euri-
pides is not more responsible than Aischylus and Sophocles, and Shakspere has
followed them in this respect. Valckenaer says (ad Phan. p. 187): ‘* Amat Tragicus
noster érugodoye, atque ob eam insaniam merito quoque fuit a comicis irrisus.”
This exclusive censure of Euripides is answered by Lobeck (ad Soph. Aj. 430); see
also Elmsley on Eurip. Bacch. 508. And the practice is so common in all the trage-
dians that it furnishes a constant problem for the ingenuity of translators, who are not
always very happy in their substitutions of English for Greek in reproducing this
play upon words. For instance, it is absurd in Ausch. Ayam. 671, to translate the —
play upon the name of Helen in the epithets éXévaus, Eavdpos, éEXéwrodes, by ‘fa Hell
to ships, a Hell to men, and a Hell to cities;” for this does not really recall the
proper name: if we said ‘‘a knell to ships,” &c. we should at any rate have a refer-
ence to a common abbreviation of the name Helen (Nell). Similarly in Euripides,
Bacche, 367: Wevdeds 5 dws wh wévOos eloolce S5u01s Tots cotct, might be rendered:
“Take heed, lest Pentheus makes your mansion a pent-house of grief,” instead of
seeking a longer paraphrase. And a similar rendering might apply to v. 508.

a Tn l¥e 131

3 Inf. xt. 80, referring to Aristot. Zth. vit, 1. That Dante read Aristotle’s
Ethics in the Italian translation of Zaddeo d’ Alderotto, surnamed U'Jppocratista, may
be inferred from the Convito, I. 10, p. 39.

4 Purgat. Xxu. 106:

Euripide v’ ® nosco e Anacreonte,
Simonide, Agatone, e altri pite
Greci che gia di lauro ornar la fronte.

EURIPIDES. 137

eall sophists’, and sometime the sophist and the rhapsode were
united in the same person: indeed so completely were they identi-
fied -in most cases, that Plato makes Socrates treat Hippias the
sophist, who was also a rhapsode, and Ion the rhapsode, who seems
to have been a sophist too, with banter and irony of precisely the
same kind. Since then Euripides was nursed in the lap of
sophistry, was the pupil and friend of the most eminent of the
sophists, and perhaps to all intents a sophist himself, we cannot
wonder that he should turn the rhapsodical element of the Greek
Drama into a sophistical one: in fact, transition was not only
natural, but perhaps even necessary. P@jay, however, be asked,
how is this reconcileable with the statement that Socrates assisted
Euripides in the composition of his Tragedies? for Socrates was, if
we can believe Plato’s representation of him, the sworn foe of the
sophists. We answer that Socrates was, in the more general sense
of the word, himself a sophist ; his opposition to the other sophists,
which has probably been exaggerated by his pupils and apologists,
to whom we owe nearly all we know about him, is no proof of a
radical difference between him and them: on the contrary, it is
proverbial that there are no disagreements so rancorous and impla-
cable as those between persons who follow the same trade with
different objects in view. ‘That Socrates was the least pernicious
of the sophists, that, if he was not a good citizen, he was at least
an honest man, we are very much disposed to believe; but in the
eyes of his contemporaries he differed but little from the rest of the
tribe: Aristophanes attacks him as the head of the school, and per-
haps some of the comedian’s animosity to Euripides may have
arisen from his belief that the tragedian was only a Socrates and
a sophist making an epidedxis in iambics’.

Euripides was not only a rhetorical sophist. He also treated
his audience to some of the physical doctrines of his master Anaxa-
goras®, For instance, he goes out of his way to communicate to
them the Anaxagorean discovery, that the sun is nothing but an

1 The young student will find some interesting remarks on these personages in
Coleridge’s Friend, Vol. 111. p. 112 fol. See also the articles on Prodicus in Nos. 1.
and Iv. of the Rhein. Mus. 1832.

* Aristophanes speaks of him thus:

bre 6H KarHrO’ Hvperlins émedelxvuto
Tots Nwrodvras, k.7T.’X. Rane, 771.

3 On the allusions which Euripides makes to the philosophy of Anaxagoras, the
reader of this poet should consult Valckenaer’s Diatribe, pp. 25—58.

138 EURIPIDES.

ignited stone’: he tells them that the overflowing of the Nile is
merely the consequence of the melting of the snow in Authiopia’,
and that the ether is an embodiment of the Deity’.

In his political opinions Euripides was attached to Alcibiades
and to the war party; and in this again he was opposed to Aristo-
phanes, and, we may add, to the best interests of his country. He
endeavours to inspire his countrymen witha contempt for their for-
midable enemies the Spartans*, and with a distrust of their good
faith® ; in order that the Athenians might not, through fear for their
prowess, scruple to continue at war with them, and might, through
suspicion, be as unwilling as possible to make peace. We find him
also united with the sophist Gorgias and the profligate Alcibiades
in urging the disastrous expedition to Sicily; for he wrote the
Trilogy to which the 7voades belonged, in the beginning of the year
415%, in which that expedition started, manifestly with a view to
encourage the gaping qguidnuncs of the Agora to fall into the ambi-
tious schemes of Alcibiades, by recalling the recollection of the suc-
cess of a similar expedition, undertaken in the mythical ages; and
it has been conjectured that his wiser opponent wrote the Birds
in the following year to ridicule the whole plan and its ori-
ginators’.

Besides obliterating the genuine character of the Greek Tragedy,
by introducing sophistry and philosophy into the dialogue, Euripides
degraded it still farther by laying aside all the dignity and xado-
kayadia which distinguished the costumes and the characters of
Zschylus and Sophocles, by vulgarizing the tragic style’, by intro-
ducing rags and tatters on the stage®, by continually making men-
tion of the most trivial and ordinary subjects”, and by destroying
the connexion which always subsisted, in the perfect form of the

1 Orest. VI. 984, and the fr. of the Phaéthon.
2 Helen. t—3, fr. of the Archelaus.
3 Troad. 878 seqq.

4 For instance, in his ridiculous exhibition of Menelaus in the 7voades, and in the
Orestes. See particularly Orest. 717 sqq.; Androm. 590.

5 Andromache, 445 seqq.

6 See Clinton, /. H. 11. p. 75.

7 See J. W. Siivern’s interesting Essay on the Birds of Aristophanes.

8 See Miiller, Hist. Lit Gr. 1. p. 336 [483]. In Hercul. Fur. 859, it is clear that
ordiia Spauotua, the reading of Flor. 2, is a gloss on the genuine cradodpopjow,
which ought to be restored. And in Zlectr, 841, we ought certainly to read 7Addate
D ws OvicKkwr pivy.

9 Ran. 841 saq. 10 Th, 980 sqq.

EURIPIDES. 139

drama, between the chorus and the actors'. With regard to his
system of prologues, which Lessing most paradoxically considers as
showing the perfection of the drama, we need only mention that
Menander adopted it from him, and point to the difference between
this practice and that of A‘schylus, Sophocles, and Shakspere, in
order to justify the ridicule which Aristophanes unsparingly heaps
upon them as factitious and unnecessary parts of a Tragedy.

Like the other sophists, Euripides was altogether devoid of
religious feelings; his moral character will not bear a searching
scrutiny; and, unlike the good-tempered, cheerful Sophocles, he
displayed the same severity of manner which distinguished his
never-smiling preceptor, Anaxagoras. On the whole, were it not
for the exceeding beauty of many of his choruses, and for the proof
which he occasionally exhibits of really tragic power, we should be
unable to understand the admiration with which he has inspired
the most cultivated men in different ages; and looking at him from
the point of view occupied by his contemporaries, we must join
with Aristophanes, not only in calling him, what he undeniably

him as a dramatist, who degraded the moral and religious dignity
of his own sacred profession. At the best, he is one of those
poets, who appear to the greatest advantage in selections of ele-
gant extracts. ‘“‘ His works,” says an eminent critic’, ‘must be
regarded less in their entirety than in detail. In single passages
there is much that in itself is excellent, deeply moving, and
masterly, which, if part of a whole, is lable to censure. We might
almost maintain, that, with Euripides, those very parts are most
beautiful, which he introduced as superfluous additions, merely be-
cause he could not resist the temptations offered by certain situa-
tions; though, indeed, it sometimes happens that the overabundant
heaping-together of materials impedes the development of the in-
dividual parts, and that the episodes fail in making their due
impression, from a want of proper extension. ‘Tragic effect to
be perfect requires completeness in preparation, development, and

i Kal tov yopdv dé va det trodaBety Tay broxpitav Kal pdprov elvac Tod bdov, Kal
owayuviferbar, wh waorep Hipurldns, XN dorep Logpoxd7js. Aristot. Poet. XVIII. 21.

2 On the connexion of Euripides and Socrates with the mischievous Girondism of
the middle-class party at Athens, we have written elsewhere (Quarterly Review, No.
cLx!. Vol. 71, p. 116; continuation of Miiller’s Hist. Lit. Gr. Vol. 1. p. 165, new ed.).

3 F. Jacobs, Hellas; or the home, history, literature and art of the Greeks. Trans-
lated by J. Oxenford, p. 235.

was, a bad citizen, and an unprincipled man, but also in regarding N

140 EURIPIDES.

solution ; but for this there is frequently a want of room with Euri-
pides. In the Troades, for instance, there is such a quantity of
matter that the death of Polyxena can only be narrated in a few
words. Thus, in this Tragedy, the effect of the tragic incidents is
destroyed by the overabundance which makes them neutralize each
other.” In accordance with these remarks the same author has
very ably contrasted the feebler art of Kuripides with the rude
vigour of Auschylus, and the graceful dignity of Sophocles. “ If,”
he says’, ‘‘we take a comparative view of the heroes of Greek
Tragedy, we find that in Adschylus the mighty subject matter is
not always satisfactorily developed—that in Euripides the luxu-
riance of the matter often predominates over the form—that in
Sophocles, on the contrary, the matter is so completely propor-
tionate to the form, that, with all its abundance, it adapts itself
without constraint, and, as it were of its own accord, to the law of
order. With the first, nature is grand and powerful, but art is
somewhat unwieldy ; with the second aft is somewhat too lax and
pliant; with Sophocles, art rules over a free and beautiful nature.
/ischylus pays homage to grandeur without grace, Euripides only
seeks the fascinating, Sophocles combines dignity and beauty in
intimate union. The first fills us with words, the second with
compassion, Sophocles with noble admiration. The whole plan of
their works corresponds to their different aims. /lschylus, at the
very commencement, often raises himself to a height which only his
own gigantic mind can hope to surmount; Sophocles leads us on
gradually ; Euripides, through successive sections, repeats the same
tones of touching sorrow. Auschylus proceeds rapidly from his
preparation to the catastrophe; Sophocles, as he approaches the
catastrophe retards his steps; Euripides, with uncertain tread, pur-
sues an uncertain goal, rather heaping up misfortune than rendering
it more intense. Adschylus is simple without art; with Sophocles
simplicity is a result of art; with Euripides variety often predo-
minates to the injury of art. The mighty and extraordinary events,
which are the focus of the action with his predecessors, are often
with Euripides no more than strengthening rays, and the incidents
are, not unfrequently, more tragical than the catastrophe. The im-
molation of a daughter torn from her mother’s arms, the murder
of an innocent boy, the voluntary death of a wife on her hus-

1 Hellas, p. 236.

EURIPIDES. 141

band’s funeral pile, the sacrifice of a youth for his country, of a
maiden for her family,—all these with Euripides are mere inci-
dents of the action*.”

Thanks to accident, or the corrupted taste of those to whom
we owe all of ancient literature that we possess, the remaining
plays of Euripides are more than all the extant dramas of Ais-
chylus and Sophocles taken together. Of his many compositions,
fifteen Tragedies*, two Tragi-comedies*, and a satyrical drama’,
have come down to us; and the fragments of the lost plays are
very numerous.

It appears that Euripides, like the other two great tragedians,
exhibited his dramas in 'Tetralogies, and in more than one instance
we have among his extant plays those which formed a portion of
the same theatrical representation. We do not, however, derive
much advantage from this. His Tetralogies were not, like those of
/Eschylus, bound together by a community of subject and treat-
ment, and except as a chronological fact, the juxta-position of par-
ticular dramas is quite unimportant to the reader of his works.

The order, in which the extant plays of Euripides were pro-
duced, may be ascertained to a certain extent either from direct
statements resting on the didascaliz or from internal evidence. In
making a few remarks on the particular plays, we shall be content
in the main with the results of the most recent and elaborate inves-
tigation of the subject®.

The earliest extant play of Euripides is the Rhesus, which, as
we have already mentioned, has been attributed to Sophocles, and
regarded as one of his earliest dramas®. On the other hand, it has
been supposed that four actors are required in the scene in which
Paris appears immediately after Diomedes and Ulysses have lett
the stage and while Athena is still there, and it has been suggested
accordingly that it belongs to the later Athenian stage, perhaps to
the school of Philocles’. It must be confessed that there are

1 There is a severe criticism on Euripides in the Foreign Quarterly Review, No.
XLVI. Professor Blackie refers to this article as his own (dschylus, I. p. xxxvii).
Schlegel’s comparison of the related plays of the three Tragedians is given in an
Appendix to this chapter.

2 Or 16, if the Rhesus is reckoned one of his.

3 The Orestes and the Alcestis. _ 4 The Cyclops.
> J. A. Hartung, Zuripides Restitutus, Vol. 1. 1843; Vol. 11. 1844.
5 Gruppe, Ariadne, pp. 285 sqq.

7 Miiller, Hist. Lit. Gr. 1. p- 501, note.

hoe. .° 5

Hi),
serious objecticns to its genuineness!; but Euripides certainly wrote
a play called the Rhesus, which Attius imitated in his Nyctegersis?,
and it is expressly stated that this was one of his earliest efforts3,
That the present play was this juvenile production has been warmly
maintained by two of the admirers of Euripides‘, and it has been
referred to the year B.C. 466°.

The undoubtedly genuine Drxma, which bears the name of
Alcestis, was acted as the after-piece to the Trilogy of the Cresse,
the Alemeon in Psophide and the Telephus, in .c. 438% Though
the main incident, the voluntary death of Alcestis as a vicarious
substitute for her husband Admetus, is eminently pathetic and
tragical, the character of Hercules is conceived in the spirit of
comedy, and the rescue of Alcestis from the grave nullifies all the
emotions excited by the first part of the play.

The Heracleide is referred to the period immediately before the
Peloponnesian war B.C. 434, and is supposed to allude in many pas-
sages to the divine assistance on which the Athenians could rely,
and to the probable discomfiture of any presumptuous invaders’.
It is conjecturally placed in the same Tetralogy with the Peleus
and -4geus, and the satyrical drama Lurystheus’. The subject of
the play is the generous protection which the Athenians accorded
to the Heracleide, and the incident of the sacrifice of Macaria is
introduced to give some special pathos to a piece which is otherwise
somewhat tame and common-place.

It is known that the Medea was acted in the archonship of
Pythodorus B.c. 431, and that it was the first play of a Tetralogy
which included the Philoctetes, Dictys, and the satyrical drama of —
“the Reapers” (@epscrat)®. The Medea is the most faultless of
the dramas of Euripides, and has really many excellences. Its
object is to depict the jealousy of a divorced and outraged wife, and
the dreadful vengeance which she exacts on the rival who has

142 EURIPIDES.

1 Valckenaer, Diatribe, 9, 10; Hermann, Opusc. 111. pp. 262 sqq.

4 Hartung, I. p. 15. i

3 Crates, ap. Schol. Rhes. 575: Kpdrns dyvoeiv pyol rov Bupuridnv riw mepl ra
peréwpa Oewpiay did 7d véov ere elvar, bre Tov 'PHoov edldacke.

4 Vater, Vindicie Rhesi, and Hartung.

> Hartung, I. p. 8.

6 See the didascalia in Cod. Vutic. quoted above, p. 75, note 3.

” Hartung, I. pp. 288 sqq. Miiller, Hist. Gr, Lit. 1. p. 488 (new ed.), refers it to
the time of the battle of Delium, B.c, 421.

8 Hartung, p. 289. 9 Argum. Med.

EURIPIDES. 143

superseded her. It has been well remarked! that “the scene which
paints the struggle in Medea’s breast between her plans of revenge
and her love for her children, will always be one of the most touch-
ing and impressive ever represented on the stage.” Its dramatic
value is proved by the success of the modern plays and operas in
which the injured wife murders, or intends to murder her children,
as an appropriate punishment cf a faithless husband?.

Euripides obtained the first prize with his Hippolytus Crowned in
the archonship of Ameinon or Epameinon B.C. 428%. This play, like
the Medea, has been revived with great success on the modern
stage*, and, in spite of great faults, it produces a considerable effect
on the reader. The plot turns on the criminal love of Pheedra for her
step-son Hippolytus, the Joseph of classical mythology. As in the
similar cases of Bellerophon and Peleus, the scorned and passionate
woman seeks the ruin of the chaste young man, but in this instance
she also commits suicide. The father, Theseus, is induced to believe
in his son’s guilt. And the innocent hero is torn to death by his
own steeds, who are frightened by sea-monsters sent against them by
Neptune, and his death having been thus effected by the malice of
Aphrodite and the blind compliance of the sea-god, the chaste
goddess Artemis appears ex machina to do poetic justice to the
innocent victim. |

It has been conjectured that the Cyclops, our only remaining
satyrical drama, belonged to the same Tetralogy as the Hippoly-
tus, which also, it is supposed, contained the Bellerophontes and the
Antigone’. The Bellerophontes is recommended for this juxta-
position by its similarity of subject, with of course a difference of
treatment. The Antigone of Euripides had a fortunate termina-
tion, as far as Haemon and the heroine were concerned®, and the
fragments seem to point to a tyranny of love, which is quite at

1 Miiller, Hist. Lit. Gr. 1. p. 485 (new ed.).

2 It is only necessary to mention the Tragedy MWedée and the operas Medea and
Norma.

3 Argum. Hippol.

4 In Racine’s Phédre. The great French dramatist says, in the preface to his
play: ‘“‘Je ne suis point étonné que ce caractere (de Phédre) ait eu un succes si
heureux du temps d’Euripide, et qu'il ait encore si bien réussi dans notre siécle,
puisqu’il a toutes les qualités qu’Aristote démande dans le héros de la tragédie, et qui
sont propres & exciter la compassion et la terreur.”

5 Hartung, I. pp. 385 sqq.

§ Aristoph. Byz. in Argum. Antig. Soph. s Ketrar 6é 7 Mvbororia kal map’ Evpurldn
év ’Avrvyovn’ why exe? dwpaletoa wera Tov Aimovos bl60Tar mpds yauou Kowwviay Kal
tixkre: Tov Maluova.

144 EURIPIDES.

variance with the moral of the Hippolytus!. In general there is very
little reason for connecting the two plays. The Cyclops is placed
at the same epoch with the Hippolytus, because it seems to have
been acted before the expedition to Syracuse?; but this is a very
slender argument. The plot of the Cyclops, of which we have
given an analysis in a subsequent chapter, is merely a dramatic
version of the adventure with Polyphemus in the ninth book of
the Odyssey.

The Jon is referred? to about B.C. 427, one it alludes unmis-
takably to the porch at Delphi, which the Athenians decorated as a
memorial of Phormio’s victories*, and actually mentions Rhium
where the trophy stood®; it probably alludes also to the relations
between Athens and their colonists on the coast of Asia Minor®,
which had become very critical in the 88th Ol. The plot of the
Jon is interesting and ingeniously developed. It turns on the
recognition by Creusa of her own son by Apollo in the young
priest Ion, whom she had endeavoured to poison by the instrumen-
tality of a faithful domestic, under the belief that he was the child of
her husband Xuthus, and a bastard intruder on the ancient honours
of her family. That the Jon was exhibited in the same Tetralogy
with the Jno and Hrechtheus, and the satyrical drama Scdron, is in-
ferred from considerations more or less precarious’.

The date of the Hecuba is fixed to B.c. 424 by two parodies of
its language in the Nubes of Aristophanes®, which show that it must
have appeared before B.c. 423, and by a reference in the play itselt®
to the sacred rites of Delos, which the Athenians took into their own
hands in B.c.425. So that the play must have fallen between these
two years. And it is conjectured! that the other plays of the
Tetralogy were the Alemena or Licymnius, Pleisthenes or the Pelo-

1 See Fragments, VI. and VII. 2 Hartung, 1. p. 388.
3 By Bockh, de Gr. Trag. Princ. p. 191.

4 Ton, 184 sqq. 5 Vv. 1502.

6 vy, 1581: ol rdvie 6 ad

maides yevouevor Ely xXpbvy TweTpwoLevyp
KukAddas érroukjoovot vycalas oes
xeprovs TE wapdAous 6 ahévos THUG XOovi

dldwow.
7 Hartung, I. pp. 451 sqq. 718, 1165. 9 466 sqq.
10 Tt is also supposed that there is an site to the Spartan disaster at Pylos in
v. 649: orévee 5¢ Kal Tis ddl Tov evipoov Etipwrav

Adkawa mo\vidkpuros év Séuots Képa.

11 Hartung, I. pp. 542, 446.

EURIPIDES. 145

pide, and the satyrical drama called Theseus, the latter of which
must have been of similar import to the Sedron of the immediately
previous Tetralogy.

The Hecuba, which has always been one of the most popular
plays of Euripides, introduces the aged queen of Troy as a marked
and vigorous character. After her daughter Polyxena has been
torn from her to be sacrificed at the tomb of Achilles, the corpse of
her only remaining son Polydorus is cast up by the waves, and she
learns that he has been murdered by the treacherous king of Thrace,
Polymestor, to whom he had been intrusted along with some trea-
sure. She entices the perfidious wretch and his children into her
tent, and there slays them and puts out his eyes; and she then suc-
cessfully defends her act when called to an account before Aga-
memnon. Besides the character of Hecuba, who appears as a sort
of philosopher of the Euripidean school, the noble resignation of
Polyxena is made to interest the spectators by a display similar to
that which we find in the Heracleide and the Iphigenia at Aulis.

Some allusions to the inconveniences of old age! place the Her-
cules Furens among the later compositions of Euripides, and certain
references to his wish for peace with Thebes and Sparta? strengthen
the hypothesis that the play was acted about B.c. 422. It is con-
jectured® that the other plays of the Tetralogy were the Temenides,
the Cresphontes*, and a satyrical drama called Cercyon. In many
parts the Hercules is singularly vigorous and effective, but its dra-
matic merits are seriously compromised by its want of unity in the
subject and action. The first part of the play is oceupied with the
liberation of the family of Hercules from the persecutions of Lycus;
and then Lyssa or madness appears as the only explanation of the
frenzy, in which Hercules slays his wife and children.

The reference, which the chorus of the Iphigenia at Tauri, sup-
posed to consist of Delian women, makes to the island of Delos and

* See v. 639 sqq., especially v. 678: re row yépwy doidds KeXadel pvapoctvar,
which may be compared with Aischylus, Ayam. v. 104.

2 vv. 471, 1135, 1303. 3 Hartung, Il. p. 21 sqq.
gs P qq.

* The Cresphontes refers in one of the choral fragments both to the advancing age
of the poet and his longing for peace (Fragm. Xv):
elpdva BalUmoures...0-
(ros por céPev, ws xpovlfecs,
dedouKa dé wh mplv mévos
brepBady ue yiipas
mplv cay mpocdey xaplecoay Spay k.T.d.

Ds Tag 10

146 EURIPIDES.

to the worship of Apollo there!, may have been prompted by the re-
storation of the Delians to their island, which the Athenians carried
out in B.c. 421 in obedience to an oracle?; and, if so, the play may
have been performed about this time. It is conjectured* that the
Phrixus, Epopeus, and Alope were the other plays of the Tetralogy.
The Iphigenia at Tauri exhibits happier situations and greater
taste in the execution than perhaps any play of Euripides. ‘The
poet avoids the awkwardness of making the’ pure and elevated
priestess a sacrificer of her unfortunate countrymen. ‘The duty of
Iphigenia is only to consecrate the victims‘, and it has so happened
that no Greek has been driven to the inhospitable coast, before the
arrival of Orestes®. The mutual recognition of the brother and
sister, the plan of flight, and the deep devotion of Orestes to his
friend Pylades, sustain the interest of the piece, which has furnished
materials for the greatest Tragedy of Pacuvius®, and for a singu-
larly beautiful reproduction by Goethe’.

The Supplices makes the Argive ruler contract an alliance with
Athens, by which all his descendants are to be bound’. This must
surely refer to the treaty between Athens and Argos, brought about
by Alcibiades in B.c. 420. For Euripides and Alcibiades were in
some sort of connexion with one another. A few years previously
(p.c. 424), Alcibiades had won the prize at Olympia, and Euripides
had written the ode for him®. It is probable therefore that Kuri-
pides might use his stage-opportunities for recommending the poli-
tical action of Alcibiades; and the general subject of the play, the
services rendered by Theseus in procuring from the Thebans the
interment of the Argive warriors, may have been intended to pro-
mote the newly established relations between Argos and Athens.
The reference to the three classes in the state is quite in the spirit
of Alcibiades himself!.

The Andromache describes the persecution of the widow of
Hector, now married to Neoptolemus, by Menelaus and his daughter
Hermione, the intervention of Peleus to protect her, the abduction
of Hermione by Orestes, and the assassination of Neoptolemus by
the latter. At the end Thetis appears ex machina to promise the

1 1096 sqq. 2 Thucyd. v. 32, ef. ¢. 1. 3 Hartung, Il. p. 142.

4 v. 617 sqq. 5 Vv. 244 8qq. 6 The Dulorestes.
7 The Iphigenie auf Tauris. y

8 vy. 1192 sqq. ® Plut. Vit. Alcibiad, c. 11.

10 Comp. Suppl. 247 with Thucyd. vi. 18, § 7.

EURIPIDES. | 147

deification of Peleus, and the future sovranty of Andromache’s de-
scendants among the Molossi. ‘There is a distinct reference in this
play to the deceit into which the Spartan ambassadors were led by
Alcibiades during the negociations of B.c. 4201, and there seems
little doubt that, as the Supplices recommends the alliance with
Argos, the Andromache favours the rupture with Sparta, both
brought about by Alcibiades in the same year; and both plays have
been accordingly referred, with the Gnomaus and the former Auto-
lycus, to a Tetralogy produced in B.c. 4197.

It is known that the Zroades was brought out in B.c. 415 with
the Alewander, the Palamedes, and the satyrical drama Stsyphus®.
The play refers distinctly to the expedition to Sicily, which sailed
in this year*; and it is not improbable that the whole Tetralogy
was filled with allusions which would be transferred from the suc-
cessful attack on ‘Troy to the expected capture of Syracuse. There
is no play even of Euripides which exhibits such a want of
dramatic concentration. It is rather a series of incidents than the
proper development of one leading idea. The allotment of Cassan-
dra to Agamemnon, and her prophecies; the sacrifice of Polyxena,
dismissed with a few words, because it had previously appeared in
the Hecuba ; the flinging of Astyanax from the walls of the city,
and the sorrow of Andromache; the singular argumentation of
Hecuba and Helen before Menelaus; and the final picture of the
conflagration of Troy, form an unconnected succession of scenes,
any one of which might have been worked up by dramatic genius
into a complete play.

The six remaining Tragedies may be grouped in pairs.

That the Electra and the Helena were acted together with the
Andromeda in B.C. 412, seems to be established by an adequate
induction. For the Andromeda was acted eight years before the
ftane of Aristophanes®, i.e, in B.c.412. Then again, the Helena was
acted with the Andromeda®. Finally, the conclusion of the Electra
prepares the hearer for the new version of the history of Helen,

' Comp. Thucyd. v. 45 with Androm. 445: Néyovres d\Na wey yAdoon, dpovodvres
5’ a\Aa.

? Hartung, I. p. 76. sqq.

3 Ablian, V. H. 11. 8 4 vy, 220,

° Schol, Aristoph. Ran. 53: ‘hy yap ’AvSpouéda bySdw eree mpohxrat.

® Schol. Thesmoph. 1012: ouvdedtdaxrac yap (n ’Avopouéda) 7H ‘ENévy.
10—e

148 EURIPIDES.

which is given in the play of that name}, and the Thesmophoriazuse
of Aristophanes, which was brought out in B.c. 411, speaks of
“the new Helen” with distinct reference to this play?. It is there-
fore tolerably certain that the Electra and Helena were connected
plays, and were acted in B.c. 411. There is less reason for the
supposition’ that the Busiris was the satyrical drama of this Te-
tralogy. In the Electra, as in the Helena, Euripides departs from
the established traditions. The former heroine is married to a
common countryman, and is exhibited as a good economical house-
wife. The motives for the murder of Aigisthus by Clytemnestra
are purely vindictive, and instead of being justified on religious
grounds, the Dioscuri, who appear ex machina at the end, insinuate
that Apollo, in recommending the deed, uttered an unwise oracle *.
The Helena of Euripides gives us a modification of the view of
Stesichorus®, which is quite at variance with that of Euripides him-
self in the Zroades. The plot is occupied with the elopement of
the innocent and injured heroine from Egypt, where she had resided,
while the Greeks were fighting for her at Troy, and Menelaus, with
the help of Theonoe, the prophetic sister of the Egyptian king,
effects the escape of his wife from the Pharaoh who wished to
marry her.

The Orestes, which was a tragi-comedy of the same class as
the Alcestis*, was acted in the archonship of Diocles, B.c. 4087,
and must have been the fourth play of the Tetralogy to which it
belonged. The third play was the Phanisse’. The other two

1 7280: IIpwréws yap éx dduuv
yxer Aurote’ Alyurrov, ovd’ 7\Gev Ppvyas*
Leds 8, ws ps yévorro Kal ddvos Bporots,
eldwdov ‘Edévns é&érewy’ és “IXtov.
In v. 1347 there is probably an allusion to the fresh expedition to Syracuse under
Demosthenes.
2 850: Thy Kawhy “Edévny myqoomat 3 Hartung, I. p. 360.
4 Plectra, 1244!
Sikaca pév vuv Hd exer’ od & ovdxt Spas,
PoiBss te PoiBos, adr\’ dvak ydp éor’ éuds,
ovya* copds 5° dy ov expnoé cor coda.

5 According to Stesichorus Helen never left Greece, but it was her eldwdov, ddoua,
which went to Troy. According to Euripides the gods formed a false Helen who went
to Troy, while the true one was carried to the Egyptian king Proteus by Hermes.

6 Argum. alt.: Td Tapdv Spawa ex tparycxod Kwpixdy. Cod. Havn. ap. Matth. vu.
p- 114: mapa rots rpay.cois éxBdd\\erae & re ’Opéoryns Kal 7 “ANKnaOTIS...€5TL MaNov
Kwumolas éxdueva.

7 Schol. Orest. 371; cf. ad 772.

8 Ibid. 1481: & TG rplrw Spduare odtés pynow & TO XopG 7H ‘‘Kddpos euodre”
(i.e. Pheeniss. 638).

EURIPIDES. 149

were the Antiope and the Hypsipyle’. In the Phenisse we have
the same subject as that of the Seven against Thebes exhibited in
the Euripidean style. At the same time, there are unmistakable
indications of the writer’s acquaintance with the Gdipus Coloneus.
The introduction of Polyneices, the expulsion of Cidipus, and An-
tigone’s resolve to accompany her father, were perhaps suggested
by Sophocles; the determination to bury Polyneices comes from
Zischylus. But Euripides has involved himself in a contradiction
by making the expulsion of Cidipus subsequent to the mutual
fratricide, so that one hardly sees how Antigone can perform the
double part, which Sophocles has arranged for her without any
such inconsistency. There are some fine scenes in the play. The
altercation between the two brothers is spirited. The view of the
besieging host from the roof of the palace is well conceived. And
the death of Menceceus would be affecting, if it were not a mere
repetition of the self-sacrifice of Macaria in the Heracletde. There
is hardly any real Tragedy in the Orestes. The crazy matricide,
about to be freed by the Argives and deserted by Menelaus on
whom he had placed his reliance, seeks to avenge himself on Helen ;
and when she vanishes to heaven, he takes her daughter Hermione
as a substitute, and is about to slay her, when the Dioscuri appear
and command him to marry the damsel. The cowardice of the
Phrygian slave is positively ludicrous, and was perhaps intended to
excite the mirth of the audience.

After the death of Euripides in .c. 406, the plays, which he
wrote for representation in Macedonia—the Iphigenia at Aulis, the
Alemeon at Corinth, the Bacche, and the Archelaus—were pro-
duced as new Tragedies at Athens by the younger Euripides, who
was probably the nephew of the great Tragedian?. It is not im-
probable that they had been already performed at Pella, for the
Bacche is full of allusions to Macedonian scenery*, and the [phi-
genia may have been suggested to him during his stay in Magnesia
on his route to the north. These two plays, which have come

1 Schol. Arist. Ran. 33: dia rl wh Go Te Tay Ge dNlyou HidaxGTwv Kal Kahay,
Yyuridns, PowiccGy, “Avribrns; ered} ob cvxopavTnra jv Ta ToLaiTa.

2 Schol. Arist. Ran. 67, where the younger Euripides is called the son of his name-
sake. The ’AAxpyalwy 514 KoplvGov is so called to distinguish it from the ’AAkualwy da
WVwo¢idos acted together with the Alcestis,

3 Cf. vv. 400 where read IIé\Xav. 565 sqq.
4 Vit. cod. Mediol. coll. Ambros. Hartung, It. p. 510.

150 EURIPIDES.

down to us, not without considerable mutilations, may be reckoned
among the happiest dramatic efforts of Euripides. In the [phigenca,
Euripides excites our interest and touches our feelings by a very
lively picture of the circumstances attending the sacrifice of the
princess. Agamemnon’s vain attempts to save his daughter, the
knightly courage of Achilles, who is willing to fight the whole
army on her behalf, the indignation of Clytemnestra, and the self-
devotion of Iphigenia, who, after pleading in the prettiest and most
pathetic speech for her life, at last solves all the difficulties by offer-
ing herself as a voluntary sacrifice, form a dramatic development,
which is found in few of the poet’s earlier plays, and which has made
this Tragedy a model both for Ennius, and for Racine and Schiller.
The text unfortunately is not only mutilated but deformed by taste-
less interpolations. The prologue, as it stands, is in a great state of
confusion. It begins with a dialogue in anapests (vv. 1—48), then
follows a monologue of the usual Euripidean style (vv. 49—114),
after which the dialogue in anapests is resumed until the entrance
of the chorus (v. 164)'. On the other hand, it appears, from a
quotation by Ailian?, that we have lost the epilogue, in which
Artemis appeared and promised to make the sacrifice of Iphigenia
illusory, and it has long been held that the concluding scene, as we
have it, is an interpolation’. There are besides many corruptions
in detail‘. With the exception of some lacune in the last scene,
the Bacche is in a much better state of preservation than the sister
Tragedy. It details the miserable end of Pentheus, who stands
alone in obstinate resistance to the worship of Bacchus, when all

1 Hartung, in his edition of this play, Erlang. 1837, begins the first scene with
Agamemnon’s speech (v. 47), omitting the five concluding lines, m

2 De Animal. Vil. 29: 6 5¢ Evpurlins &v rH Igryevele:

Aagov 5 *Axadv xepoly évOjow pidaus []. A\dOpg]
Kepodccay, iv opdfovTes avxyjaovot chy
opavew Ouydrepa.

From the use of the futures évOjcw and a’xjcovor it has been supposed by some
critics that these words must have been part of the prologue; but ov must refer to
Clytemnestra, who could not have been so addressed till the conclusion of the play.

8 Porson, Pref. Hee. p. xxi. [18], speaking of the two readings of Iph. Awl. 1579,
says: ‘‘simerogas, utra harum ve'a sit lectio, respondeo, neutra. Nec quicquam
inea refert; quippe qui persuasus sim, totam eam scenam abusque versu 1541 spuriam
esse, et a recentiore quodam, nescio quando, certe post A¥liani tempora, suppositam.”

4 See Béckh, Gr. Tr. Princ. ec. xvu. ; the editions of Hermann, Lips. 1831; Har-
tung, Erlang. 1837; Monk, Cantabr. 1840; also W. Dindorf, Zeitsch. f. d. Alter-
thumswiss. Nov. 1839; Seyffert, de dupl. rec. Iph. A., Hal. 1831; Bartsch, de Fur,
Iph. A. Vrat. 1837; Zirndorfer, Diss. de Iph. A. Marburg, 1838.

EURIPIDES. 151

his family have yielded a willing assent to the new religion. This
solemn warning against the dangers of a self-willed Qeouayia seems
to have made this drama highly suggestive to those intelligent and
educated Jews, who first had a misgiving with regard to the
wisdom of their opposition to Christianity’, And the devout and
religious tone of the play would almost make us suppose that Euri-
pides himself, at the close of his life, had become converted from
the sophistic scepticism of his earlier years*. It is probable that
the Bacche was always a favourite play in Macedonia, where it
was first produced. Olympias, the mother of Alexander the Great,
openly played the part of the mother of Pentheus®, and Alexander
himself was able to make an apposite quotation from the text of
this Tragedy +.

1 This important reference was first made by the writer of these pages in a work
entitled, Christian Orthodoxy reconciled with the conclusions of modern Biblical
Learning, Lond. 1857, pp. 291I—294.

2 cf. vv. 200: ovdev cogifduerba Totcr daluoot, K.T.r.
Vasa TO copoy 0’ ov codia,
TO TE fn) OvnTa Ppovety
Bpaxvs alov. ss
v. 880: opuadrar pddts add’ duws

mioTov Tb ye Getov abévos K.T.X.
3 Plutarch, Vit. Alex. c. 2.
4 Td. Ibid. c. 53: elmeiy ofy rov ’ANéEavSpov rt Kar’ Evpurlinv’ tov Na8dvra tev
Nywr
Kaas adopuas ov péy epyov ed Néyew.
See Bacch. vv. 266, 267.

152 JESCHYLUS’ CHOEPHORG.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER I. §§ 2, 3, 4.

A. W. SCHLEGEL’S COMPARISON OF THE CHOEPHOR® OF ASSCHY-
LUS WITH THE ELECFRAS OF SOPHOCLES AND EURIPIDES.

THe relation which Euripides bears to his two great predecessors will be set in
the clearest light by a comparison between their three plays, which happily are still
extant, upon the same subject, namely, Clyteemnestra’s death by the avenging hand of
Orestes.

The scene of Auschylus’ Choéphoree is laid in front of the royal palace; the tomb
of Agamemnon appears on the stage. Orestes enters with his trusty Pylades, and opens
the play (which unhappily is somewhat mutilated at the beginning) with a prayer to
Mercury and a promise of revenge to his father, to whom he consecrates a lock of his
hair. He sees a procession of females clad in mourning attire issuing from the
palace; and thinking he recognizes his sister among them, he steps aside with Pylades,
to reconnoitre them before he shows himself. The Chorus, consisting of captive
Trojan maidens, in a speech accompanied by gestures of woe, reveal the occasion of
their mission to Agamemnon’s tomb, namely, a frightful dream of Clytemnestra’s:
they add their own dark presentiments of vengeance impending over the blood-guilty
pair, and bewail their lot in being obliged to serve unrighteous lords, Electra con-
sults the Chorus whether she shall do the bidding of her hostile mother, or pour out
the offering in silence, and then by their advice she too addresses a prayer to infernal
Mercury and the soul of her father, for herself and the absent Orestes, that he may
appear as the avenger. During the pouring out of the libation, she and the Chorus
make a lament for the departed hero. Presently, discovering the lock of hair, of a
colour resembling her own, and foot-prints round about the tomb, she lights upon the
conjecture that her brother has been there; and while she is beside herself with joy at
the thought, he steps forward, and makes himself known. Her doubts he completely
overcomes by producing a garment woven by her own hand; they abandon themselves
to their joy; he addresses a prayer to Jupiter, and makes known how Apollo, under
most terrible menaces of persecution by his father’s furies, has called upon him to
destroy the authors of Agamemnon’s death, in the same manner as they had destroyed
him, namely, by subtilty. Now follow odes of the Chorus and Electra, consisting
partly of prayers to the deceased king and to the infernal deities, partly calling to
mind all the motives to the act enjoined upon Orestes, and, above all, the murder of
Agamemnon. Orestes inquires about the vision which induced Clytzmnestra to send
the offerings, and is informed that she dreamed she had a child in the cradle, which
child was a dragon which she laid to her breast, and suckled with her own blood.
He, then, will be this dragon; and he explains more particularly how he will steal
into the house as a disguised stranger, and take both A®gisthus and herself at
unawares. With this intention he departs, accompanied by Pylades. The subject of
the ensuing ode is, the boundless audacity of mankind, and especially of women in
their unlawful passions; which it confirms with dreadful examples from mythic story,
and shows how avenging Justice is sure to overtake them at last. Orestes, returning

‘

ASCHYLUS CHOEPHORG. 153

as a stranger with Pylades, craves admission into the palace; Clytemnestra comes
out, and being informed by him that Orestes is dead, at which tidings Electra makes
a show of lamentation, she invites him to enter and be her guest. After a short
prayer of the Chorus, enters Orestes’ nurse, and makes a lament for her nursling ;
the Chorus inspires her with a hope that he yet lives, and advises her to send
Aigisthus, for whom Clytemnestra has dispatched her, not with, but without, his
body-guard. As the moment of danger draws near, the Chorus offers a petition to
Jupiter and Mercury that the deed may prosper. Aigisthus enters, holding conversa-
tion with the messenger, cannot yet quite persuade himself of an event so joyful to
him as Orestes’ death, and therefore hastens into the house, where, after a short
prayer of the Chorus, we hear his dying cry. A servant rushes out, and gives the
alarm before the door of the women’s abode, to warn Clytemnestra. She hears it,
comes out, calls for a hatchet to defend herself; but as Orestes without a moment’s
delay advances upon her with the bloody sword, her courage fails, and most affect-
ingly she holds before him the breast at which she, his mother, suckled him. Hesitat-
ingly he asks counsel of Pylades, who in a few lines urges him on by the most
powerful considerations: after a brief dialogue of accusation and self-vindication, he
drives her before him into the palace to slay her beside the corpse of Aigisthus. The
Chorus, in a solemn ode, exults in the consummated retribution. The great doors of
the palace are thrown open, and disclose, in the chamber, the slain pair laid together
on a bed. Orestes orders the servants to unfold, that all may see it, the long trailing
garment in which his father, as he drew it on and was muffled in its folds, received
the murderous stroke of the axe: the Chorus beholds on it the stains of blood, and
breaks out into a lamentation for Agamemnon’s murder. Orestes, feeling that his
soul is already becoming confused, avails himself of the time that is still left to
vindicate his act: he declares that he will repair to Delphi, there to be purified from
his blood-guiltiness, and forthwith flees, full of horror, before his mother’s Furies,
whom the Chorus does not yet see, and deem a phantom of his brain, but who leave
him no more rest. The Chorus concludes the play with a reflection on the scene of
murder thrice repeated in that royal house since the Thyestean banquet.

The scene of Sophocles’ Electra is also laid in front of the palace, but without
‘Agamemnon’s tomb, At day-break enter as from abroad, Pylades, Orestes, and his
keeper, who on that bloody day had been his preserver. The latter gives him instruc-
tions, as he introduces him to the city of his fathers: Orestes replies with a speech
upon the commission given him by Apollo, and the manner in which he means to
execute it, and then addresses a prayer to the gods of his native land, and to the
house of his fathers. Electra is heard sobbing within; Orestes wishes to greet her
immediately, but the old man leads him away to present an offering at the grave of
his father. Electra comes out; in a pathetic address to heaven she pours forth her
griefs, and, in a prayer to the infernal deities, her unappeased longing for revenge.
The Chorus, consisting of virgins of the land, approaches to administer consolation.
Electra, alternating song and speech with the Chorus, makes known her unabatable
sorrow, the contumely of her oppressed life, her hopelessness on account of Orestes’
many lingerings, notwithstanding her frequent exhortations, and gives faint hearing
to the encouraging representations made by the Chorus. Chrysothemis, Clytem- ,
nestra’s younger, more submissive, and favourite daughter, comes with a grave-
offering, which she is commissioned to bear to her father’s sepulchre. An altercation
arises between the sisters concerning their different sentiments: Chrysothemis tells
Electra that Aigisthus, now absent in the country, has come to the severest resolu-

154 SOPHOCLES’ ELECTRA.

tions respecting her; to which the other bids defiance. Then she proceeds to relate
how Clytemnestra has had a dream that Agamemnon was come to life again, and
planted his sceptre in the floor of the house, whence there sprang up a tree that over-
shadowed the whole land; whereby she was so terrified, that she commissioned her to
be the bearer of this grave-offering. Electra advises her not to regard the commands
of her wicked mother, but to offer at the tomb a prayer for herself, her brother and
sister, and for the return of Orestes to take vengeance: she adds to the oblation her
own girdle and a lock of her hair. Chrysothemis promises to follow her advice and
departs. The Chorus augurs from the dream that retribution is nigh, and traces back
the crimes committed in this house to the arch-sin of its first founder, Pelops. Clytem-
nestra chides her daughter, to whom, however, perhaps from the effect of the dream,
she is milder than usual: she justifies what she did to Agamemnon; Electra attacks
her on that score, but without violent altercation on either side. After this, Clyteem-
nestra, standing beside the altar in front of the house, addresses her prayer to Apollo
for welfare and long life, and secretly for the destruction of her son. Now enters
the keeper of Orestes, and, in the character of messenger from a Phocian friend,
announces the death of Orestes, entering withal into the most minute details, how he
lost his life at the chariot-race in the Pythian games. Clyt#mnestra scarcely con-
ceals her exultation, although at first a touch of maternal feeling comes over her, and
she invites the messenger to partake of the hospitality of her house. Electra, in
touching speeches and songs, abandons herself to her grief; the Chorus in vain
attempts to console her. Chrysothemis returns from the tomb overjoyed, with the
assurance that Orestes is near at hand, for she has found there the lock of his hair,
his drink-offering, and wreaths of flowers. LElectra’s despair is renewed by this
account; she tells her sister the dreadful tidings which have just arrived, and calls
upon her, now that no other hope is left them, to take part with her in a daring deed,
and put Adgisthus to death; this proposal Chrysothemis, not possessing the courage,
rejects as foolish, and, after a violent altercation, goes into the house. The Chorus
bewails Electra now so utterly desolate; Orestes enters with Pylades and some
servants who bear the urn which, it is pretended, contains the ashes of the dead
youth. Electra prevails upon him by her entreaties to give it into her hands, and
laments over it in the most touching speeches; by which Orestes is so overcome, that
he can no longer conceal himself: after some preparation, he makes himself known to
her, and confirms the discovery by showing her the signet-ring of their father. She
gives vent, in speech and song, to her unbounded joy, until the old man comes out,
rebukes them both for their imprudence, and warns them to refrain themselves.
Electra with some difficulty recognizes in him the faithful servant to whom she had
entrusted Orestes for preservation, and greets him thankfully. By the old man’s
advice, Orestes and Pylades hastily betake themselves with him into the house to
surprise Clyteemnestra while she is yet alone. Electra offers a prayer in their behalf
to Apollo: the ode of the Chorus announces the moment of retribution. From within
the house is heard the shriek of the dismayed Clytemnestra, her brief entreaties, her
wailings under the death-blow. Electra, from without, calls upon Orestes to finish
the deed: he comes out with bloody hands. The Chorus sees Algisthus coming, and
Orestes hastes back into the house to take him by surprise. A®gisthus inquires about
the death of Orestes, and from Electra’s equivocal replies is led to believe that his
corpse is within the house. He therefore orders the doors to be thrown open to
convince those among the people who bore his sway with reluctance, that there is no
more hope from Orestes. The middle entry is thrown open, and discloses in the

EURIPIDES’ ELECTRA. 155

interior of the palace a covered body lying on a bed. Orestes stands beside it and
bids Algisthus uncover it: he suddenly beholds the bloody corpse of Clytemnestra,
and finds himself lost past redemption. He desires to be allowed to speak, which,
however, Electra forbids. Orestes compels him to go into the house, that he may
slay him on the selfsame spot where Aigisthus had murdered his father.

The scene of Euripides’ Hlectra lies, not in Mycene, but on the borders of the
Argolic territory, in the open country, in front of a poor solitary cottage. The
inhabitant, an old peasant, comes out, and in the prologue tells the audience how
matters stand in the royal house; partly what was known already, but moreover,
that not content to treat Electra with ignominy and leave her unwedded, they had
married her beneath her rank to him; the reasons he assigns for this procedure are
strange enough, but he assures the audience he has too much respect for her to debase
her in reality to the condition of his wife. They are therefore living in virgin wed-
lock. Electra comes out, before it is yet day-break, bearing on her head, which is
shorn in servile fashion, a pitcher with which she is going to fetch water; her husband
conjures her not to trouble herself with such unwonted labours, but she will not be
kept from the performance of her housewifely duties, and the two depart, he to his
work in the field, she upon her errand. Orestes now enters with Pylades, and in a
speech to his friend states that he has already sacrificed at his father’s grave, but that
he does not venture into the city, but wishes to look about for his sister (who, he is
aware, is married and lives hereabout on the frontier), that he may learn from her the
posture of affairs. He sees Electra coming with the water-pitcher, and retires. She
strikes up a song of lamentation over her own fate and that of her father. The
Chorus, consisting of rustic women, comes and exhorts her to take part in a festival
of Juno, which she however, in the dejection of her sorrow, and pointing to her
tattered garments, declines. They offer to lend her a supply of holiday gear, but she
is fixed in her purpose. She espies Orestes and Pylades in their lurking-place, takes
them for robbers, and is about to flee into her cottage; upon Orestes coming forth
and stopping her, she thinks he is going to kill her; he pacifies her and gives her
tidings that her brother lives. Hereupon he inquires about her situation, and then
the whole matter is drilled into the audience once more. Orestes still forbears to
make himself known, but merely promises to do Electra’s commission to her brother,
and testifies his sympathy as a stranger. The Chorus think this too good an oppor-
tunity to be lost of gratifying their own ears also with a little news from town ;
whereupon Electra, after describing her own miserable condition, depicts the wanton
and insolent behaviour of her mother and Algisthus: this wretch, she says, capers
upon Agamemnon’s grave and pelts it with stones. The peasant returns from his
work, and finds it not a little indecorous in his wife to be gossiping with young men;
but when he hears they are the bearers of intelligence from Orestes, he invites them
into his house in the most friendly manner. Orestes, at sight of this worthy man,
enters into a train of moral reflections, how often it does happen that the most
estimable men are found in low families, and under an unpromising exterior. Electra
reproves her husband for inviting them, knowing as he does that they have nothing in
the house; he is of opinion that even were it so, the strangers would goodnaturedly
put up with it; but a good housewife can always manage to get together all sorts of
dishes, her stores will surely hold out for one day. She sends him to Orestes’ old
keeper, and former preserver, who lives hard by in the country, to hid him come and
bring along with him something for their entertainment. The peasant departs with
saws upon riches and moderation. Off flies the Chorus into an ode upon the expedi-

156 EURIPIDES ELECTRA.

tion of the Greeks against Troy, prolixly describes all that was graven on the shield
of Achilles which his mother Thetis brought him, but winds it up however with the
wish that Clyteemnestra may be punished for her wickedness,

The old keeper, who finds it right hard work to climb up-hill to the house, brings
Electra a lamb, a cheese, and a skin of wine; hereupon he falls a weeping, not
forgetting, of course, to wipe his eyes with his tattered garments. In replying to
Electra s questions, he relates how at the grave of Agamemnon he had found traces of
an oblation together with a lock of hair, and therefore he conjectures that Orestes
has been there. Hereupon ensues an allusion to the mode of recognition used by
Eschylus, namely by the resemblance of the hair, the size of the foot-marks, the
garment, which are demonstrated, all and several, to be absurd. The seeming impro-
bability of the Alschylean anagnorisis perhaps admits of being cleared up; at all
events one may easily let it pass; but a reference like this, to another author's treat-
ment of the same subject, is the most annoying interruption, the most alien from
genuine poetry that can possibly be. The guests come out; the old keeper recon-
noitres Orestes with a scrutinizing eye, knows him, and convinces even Electra that
it is he, by a scar on his eyebrow received from a fall in his childhood —so this is the
superb invention for which Aischylus’ is to be cashiered !—they embrace, and abandon
themselves to their joy during a short ode of the Chorus. In a lengthy dialogue,
Orestes, the old man, and Electra concert their plans. gisthus, the old man
knows, has gone into the country to sacrifice to the Nymphs: there Orestes will steal
in as a guest and fall upon him by surprise. Clytemnestra, for fear of evil tongues,
has not gone with him: Electra offers to entice her mother to them by the false
intelligence of her being in childbed. The brother and sister now address their united
prayers to the gods and their father’s shade for a happy issue. Electra declares she
will make away with herself if it should miscarry, and for that purpose will have
a sword in readiness. The old man departs with Orestes to conduct him to Aigisthus,
and afterwards to betake himself to Clyteemnestra. The Chorus sings the Golden
Ram, which Thyestes stole from “Atreus by the help of the treacherous wife of the
latter, and how he was punished for it by the feast made for him with his own chil-
dren’s flesh, at the sight of which the Sun turned out of his course: a circumstance,
however, concerning which the Chorus, as it sapiently adds, is very sceptical. From
a distance is heard a noise of tumult and groans, Electra thinks her brother is over-
come, and is going to kill herself. But immediately there comes a messenger, who,
prolixly and with divers jokes, relates the manner of Algisthus’ death. Amidst the
rejoicing of the Chorus, Electra fetches a wreath with which she crowns her brother,
who holds in his hand the head of ASgisthus by the hair. This head she in a long
speech upbraids with its follies and crimes, and says to it, among other things, “it is
never well to marry a woman with whom one has lived before in illicit intercourse ;
that it is an unseemly thing when a woman has the mastery in the family,” &e.
Clyteemnestra is seen approaching, Orestes is visited by scruples of conscience con-
cerning his purpose of putting a mother to death, and concerning the authority of
the oracle, but is induced by Electra to betake himself into the cottage there to
accomplish the deed, The queen comes in a superb chariot hung with tapestry, and
attended by her Trojan female slaves, Electra would help her to descend, but this
she declines. ‘Thereupon she justifies what she had done to Agamemnon by reference
to the sacrifice of Iphigenia, and requires her daughter to make her objections; all
which is in order to give Electra an opportunity of holding a eaptious, quibbling
harangue, in which, among other things, she upbraids her mother with having sat

COMPARISON OF THE THREE PLAYS. 157

before her mirror, and studied her toilette too much while Agamemnon was away.
Clytemnestra is not angry, although Electra plainly declares her purpose of putting
her to death if ever she should have the power; she inquires about her daughter's
confinement, and goes into the cottage to perform the ceremonies of purification.
Electra accompanies her with a sarcastic speech. Then we have a choral ode upon
retribution, the cry of the murdered woman within the house, and the brother and
sister return stained with blood. They are full of remorse and despair at what they
have done, afflict themselves by repeating to each other their mother’s lamentable
speeches and gestures; Orestes will flee into foreign lands, Electra asks ‘‘ who will
marry me now?” The Dioscuri, their uncles, appear in the air, vituperate Apollo for
his oracle, command Orestes, in order to secure himself from the Furies, to go and
have himself tried by the Areopagus ; they also prophesy his further destinies. They
then ordain a marriage between Electra and Pylades, her first husband to be taken
with them to Phocis and handsomely provided for. After reiterated wailings, the
brother and sister take a life-long farewell of each other, and the play comes to an
end.

It is easy to perceive, that Auschylus has grasped the subject on its most terrific
side, and borne it back into the domain of the gloomy deities, in which he so much
delights to take up his abode. Agamemnon’s grave is the murky centre, whence the
avenging retribution emanates; his gloomy ghost, the soul of the whole poem. The
very obvious exterior imperfection, of the play’s dwelling too long on one point
without perceptible progress, becomes in fact a true interior perfection: it is the
hollow stillness of expectation before a storm or earthquake. It is true there is much
repetition in the prayers, but their very accumulation gives the impression of a great
unheard-of purpose, to which human powers and motives alone are inadequate. In
the murdering of Clytemnestra and in her heartrending speeches, the poet, without
disguising her crimes, has gone to the utmost verge of all that he had a right to
demand of our feelings. The crime which is to be punished is kept in view from the
very first by the tomb, and at the conclusion is brought still nearer to the eye of
memory by the unfolding of the fatal garment: thus Agamemnon, even after full
revenge, is murdered, as it were, afresh before the mental eye. Orestes’ betaking
himself to flight betrays no undignified remorse or weakness; it is only the inevitable
tribute which he must pay to offended Nature.

How admirably Sophocles has managed the subject I need only remark in general
terms. What a beautiful preface he has made, in those introductory scenes to that
mission of Clytemnestra’s to the tomb with which Aischylus begins at once! With
what polished ornament he has invested the whole, for example in the story of the
games! How skilfully he husbands the pathos of Electra—first, general expressions
of woe, then, hopes derived from the dream, their annihilation by the intelligence of
Orestes’ death, new hopes suggested by Chrysothemis only to be rejected, and, last of
all, the mourning over the urn! The noble spirit of Electra is finely set off by the
contrast with her tamer sister. Indeed the poet has given quite a new turn to the
subject by directing the interest principally to Electra. A noble pair he has made of
this brother and sister; allotting to the female character invincible constancy and
devotedness, the heroism of endurance ; to the male, the beautiful vigour of a hero’s
youthful prime. To this the old man in his turn opposes thoughtfulness and expe-
rience: the circumstance that both poets leave Pylades silent! is an instance how
greatly ancient art disdained all useless redundancy.

1 [Pylades speaks in the Choeph. 900 sqq.—]

158 COMPARISON OF THE THREE PLAYS.

But what especially characterizes the tragedy of Sophocles, is the heavenly serenity
amid a subject so terrific, the pure breath of life and youth which floats through the
whole. The radiant god Apollo, who enjoined the deed, seems to shed his influence
over it; even the day-break at the opening of the play is significant. The grave and
the world of shades are kept afar off in the distance; what in Alschylus is effected
by the soul of the murdered monarch, proceeds here from the heart of the living
Electra, which is gifted with equal energy for indignant hatred and for love. Remark-
able is the avoidance of every gloomy foreboding in the very first speech of Orestes,
where he says, he feels no concern at being thought to be dead, so long as he knows
himself to be alive in sound health and strength. Nor is he visited either before or
after the deed by misgivings and compunctions of conscience; so that all that con-
cerns his purpose and act is more sternly sustained in Sophocles than in Adschylus ;
the terrific stroke of theatrical effect in the person of Aigisthus, and the reserving this
person to await an ignominious execution at the end of the play, is even more austere
than any thing in Aschylus’ play. The most striking emblem of the relation the
two poets bear to each other is afforded by Clytemnestra’s dreams: both are equally
apt, significant, ominous; Auschylus’ is grander but horrible to the senses; that of
Sophocles, terrible and majestically beautiful withal.

Euripides’ play is a singular instance of poetical or rather unpoetical obliquity ; to
expose all its absurdities and contradictions would be an endless undertaking. Why,
for instance, does Orestes badger his sister by keeping up his incognito so long? How
easy the poet makes his labour, when, if any thing stands in his way, he just shoves
it aside without further ceremony—as here the peasant, of whom, after he has sent up
the old keeper, nobody knows where he is all this while! The fact is, partly Euri-
pides wanted to be novel, partly he thought it too improbable that Orestes and Pylades
should despatch the king and his wife in the midst of their capital city; to avoid this
he has involved himself in still grosser improbabilities. If there be in the play any
relish whatever of the tragic vein, it is not his own, it belongs to the fable, to his
predecessors, and to tradition. Through his views it has ceased at least to bea tragedy ;
he has laboured every way to lower it down to the level of a “‘ family-picture,” as the
modern phrase is. The effect attempted in Electra’s indigence is sad claptrap: he
betrays the knack of his craft in her complacent ostentation of her own misery. In
all the preparatives to the deed there is utter levity of mind and want of inward
conviction: it is a gratuitous torturing of one’s feelings that A®gisthus with his
expressions of goodnatured hospitality, and Clytemnestra with her kindly compassion
towards her daughter, are set in an amiable point of view, just to touch us in their
behalf: the deed is no sooner accomplished but it is obliterated by a most despicable
repentance, a repentance which is no moral feeling at all, but a mere animal revulsion.
Of the calumniations of the Delphian oracle I shall say nothing. As the whole play
is annihilated thereby, I cannot see for what end Euripides wrote it at all, except it
were that a comfortable match might be got up for Electra, and that the old peasant
might make his fortune as a reward for his continency. I could only wish Pylades
were married out of hand, and the peasant fingered a specified sum of money told out
to him upon the spot in hard cash: in that case all would end to the audience’s satis-
faction like a common comedy.

Not to be unjust however, I must add the remark, that the Electra is perhaps of
all Euripides’ extant plays the very vilest. Was it rage for novelty that led him here
into such vagaries? No doubt it was a pity that in this subject two such predecessors
had forestalled him. But what forced him to measure himself with them, and to
write an Electra at all?

CHAPTER I.

SECTION V.

AGATHON AND THE REMAINING TRAGEDIANS.

*EmgvudXlies tair’ éorl cal crwyt\para,

Xediddvav povecia, AwBynral réxvns,

“A gdpovéa Oarrov, nv pdvov xopdy AdBy.
ARISTOPHANES.

[ addition to the seven Tragedians, of whom we have at-
tempted to give some account, a list of thirty-four names of
tragic poets, so called, has been drawn up!. Of these, very few are
worthy of even the slightest mention, and we have but scanty
information respecting those few, of whom we might have wished
to know more.

Ton, the son of Orthomenes of Chios, was, according to Suidas,
not only a tragedian, but a lyric poet and philosopher also. He
began to exhibit in B.c. 451, and wrote twelve, thirty, or forty
dramas. The names of eleven have been collected*, He gained
the third prize when Euripides was first with the /Zippolytus in
B.c. 428°. He wrote, not only Tragedies, but elegies*, dithy-
rambs*, and an account of the visits paid by eminent men to his
native island®. Though he did not exhibit till after Euripides had
commenced his dramatic career, and though he was, like that poet,
a friend of Socrates’, we should be inclined to infer, from his having
written dithyrambs, that he belonged to an earlier age of the

1 By Clinton, 7. H. 11. pp. xxxii.—xxxv.
° By Bentley (Zpistola ad Millium.) 3 Argum. Hippolyti.
* Athenzeus, X. p. 436. 5 Aristoph. Paz, 798.

® Athenzeus, III. p. 93. 7 Diogenes Laert, IT. p. 23.

160 AGATHON AND THE

dramatic art, and that his plays were free from the corruptions
which Euripides had introduced into Greek Tragedy: it is, indeed,
likely that a foreigner would copy rather from the old models, than
from modern innovations. He died before Euripides, for he was
dead when Aristophanes brought out the Peace’ (B.c. 419).
From an anecdote mentioned by Athenzus, that he presented
each Athenian citizen with a Chian vase, on one occasion, when
he gained the tragic prize’, we may infer that he was a man of
fortune.

Arisrarcuus, of Tegea, who first exhibited in B.c. 454, de-
serves to be mentioned as having furnished models for the imita-
tions of Ennius.

Acuzus, of Eretria, must also be considered as belonging to
an earlier age of the tragic art than Euripides, whose senior he
was by four years. He wrote forty-four, thirty, or twenty-four
dramas, but only gained one tragic victory’. His countryman
Menedemus considered him the best writer of satyrical dramas after
Zaschylus*,

AGATHON was, like his friend Euripides, a dramatic sophist.
He is best known to us from his appearance in the Banquet of
Plato, which is supposed to have been held at his house on
the day after the celebration of his tragic victory. This appears
to have taken place at the Lena, in the archonship of Euphe-.
mius, B.C. 416°. He is introduced to us by Plato as a well-
dressed, handsome young man, courted by the wealth and wis-
dom of Athens, and exercising the duties of hospitality with all
the ease and refinement of modern politeness. In the Epidetxis,
in praise of love, which he is there made to pronounce, we are
presented with the artificial and rhetorical expressions which his
friend® Aristophanes attributes to his style’, and which we might
Schol. Pac. 837: drt 6 wév "Ilwv Hin TéOvnKe, 5Adov.

Atheneus, I. p. 4.
3 Suidas. 4 Diog. Laert. 11. p. 133.

5 Atheneus, V. p. 217 A: éml dpxovros Eidiwou orepavodrac Anvalos.

* It will be recollected, that Aristophanes is introduced at Plato’s Banquet among
the other intimates of Agathon.

1
2

cd MéAXe yap 6 Kad\erhs ’Aydbwv
Apvdxous riPévar, Spduaros dpxds*

REMAINING TRAGEDIANS, 161

have expected from a pupil of Gorgias. Aristotle tells us? that
he was the first to introduce into his dramas arbitrary choral songs,
which had nothing to do with the subject; and it appears from
the same author that he sometimes wrote pieces with fictitious
names, which Schlegel justly concludes were something between
the idyl and the newest form of Comedy’. He was residing at
the court of Archelaus when Euripides died‘: the cause of his de-
parture from Athens is not known. He is represented as a delicate
and effeminate person in Aristophanes’ play, called the Oecpodopra-
foveav®; and it is, perhaps, only the intimacy subsisting between
Aristophanes and him which has gained for him the affectionate
tribute of esteem which the comedian puts into the mouth of
Bacchus®, and has saved him from the many strictures which he
deserved, both as a poet and as a man. ‘The time of his death is
not recorded.

XENOCLES, though he is called an execrable poet’, gained
a tragic prize with a Trilogy, over the head of Euripides, in
B.C. 415°. He was the son of CARrcrnus, a tragedian of whom
nothing is known, and is continually ridiculed by Aristophanes.
His brothers, Xenotimus and Demotinus or Xenoclitus, were choral
dancers.

Kaprre 5é véas avidas érav"
Ta dé ropvever, Ta 5é KoNomede?,
Kal yrwporure?, xkdvrovoudcer,
Kal xnpoxure?, cal yoyyvA\et,
Kal xoavever. Thesmoph. 49.

1 It appears from the Banquet that he was Gorgias’ pupil : his imitation of Gorgias
is mentioned by Philostratus, de Soph. 1.: ’"Ayd0wv 6 THs Tpayyolas roinrhs by 7) Kopw-
dla copév Te kal kaddcer7 olde (in allusion to the last quotation) roA\axod Trav lauSelwv
yopytdger: and by the Clarkian Scholiast on Plato (Gaisford, p. 173): €ume?ro 5¢ rhv
Konwbrnra THs AéLews Topylov rot propos.

2 Tots 5é Aowrots 7a dddueva ob uGAXov Tod uUOov, 7 GAANS Tpaywoilas earl: 5 4
EuBdriua dover, mpwrou dptavros ’AydOwvos Toovrov. Aristot. Poet. XVII. 22.

3 Lect. v. ad fin. One of these was called the Flower. Aristot. Poet. IX. 7.

4 Schol. ad Aristoph. Ran. 85; ALlian, V. H. 11, 21, xm. 4; Clark. Schol. Plato.
p. 173-

5 Thesmoph. 29 sqq. 191, 192.

§ Ran. 84: ‘Hp. ’AydOwy 5é motorw; At. drodurdy pw’ arolxera,
"Avalos months Kal moewds Tots pidocs.

7 Aristoph. Ran, 86; Thesm. 169.

8 Alian, V. H. u. 8. On ‘the son of Cleomachus’ (Athen. XIV. 638 F) who
defeated Sophocles, see Meineke, Fragm. Com. Ant. p. 28; Miiller, Hist. Lit. Gr. 1.
p- 505 (new. ed.),

D.F, 6. 11

162 AGATHON AND THE

TorHon, the son of Sophocles, is described by Aristophanes*
as a man whose powers were, at the time of his father’s death,
not yet sufficiently proved to enable a critic to determine his lite-
yary rank, He appears, however, to have been a creditable dra-
matist, and gained the second prize in 428 B.c., when Euripides
was first and Ion third*.

Evpuorroy, the son of Auschylus, deserves to be mentioned as
having obtained the first prize, when Sophocles gained the second,
and Euripides the third. He probably produced, on this occasion,
one of his father’s posthumous Tragedies, with which he is said
to have conquered four times. He did, however, occasionally bring
out Tragedies of his own composing ®.

Evriprpes and Sornocies, the nephew and grandson respec-
tively of their namesakes, are said to have exhibited, either for
the first or for the second time, some of the dramas of their rela-
tives. The younger Sophocles reproduced the Gidipus at Colo-
nus, in 401 B.c.4; and first contended in his own name 396 B.C.°
Euripides the younger is said to have published an edition of
Homer’®.

Metervs, the accuser of Socrates, is stated to have been a
tragedian’, and a writer of drinking songs*. (idipus was the
subject of one of his plays’.

CH#REMON, who flourished about B.c. 880, was celebrated for
his Centaur, in which he mixed up the drama with the styles of
epic and lyric poetry then fashionable. He had a great talent for
description, but his works were better suited for the closet than for
the stage.

1 Ran. 73.8qq. 2 Arg. Hippolyti. *% Suidas, v. Evpoplwy. Argument. Medew.
4 Elms. ad Bacch. p. 14, and Suidas.

5 Diodor. Sic. XIV. 53. 8 Suidas.

7 Schol. Ran. 1337: Tpaytxds wounrhs 6 Médqros* obros 5é éoriv 6 Swxpdry ypayd-
pevos* Kwpmdeirae 6 ws Puxpos & TH Tovjoet Kal ws Tovnpds Tov TpoToY.

8 Ran. 1297. 9 Gaisford, Lect. Platon. p. 170.

W Aristot, Poet, 1.; Atheneus, XIII, p, 608, 1 Aristot. Rhet, M1. 12.

REMAINING TRAGEDIANS. 163

SosicLes, of Syracuse, gained seven victories, and wrote
seventy-three Tragedies. He flourished in the reigns of Philip
and Alexander of Macedon}.

The tyrants Critras and Dionysius the elder, and the rheto-
riclan THEODECTES obtained some eminence as Tragedians.

In the reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, seven tragic poets
flourished at Alexandria, who were called the Plevas?; their
names were, Homerus, SosirHeus, LycopHron, ALEXANDER
Eroius, ASANTIDES, SosIpHANES, and Puitiscus*®. It is quite
uncertain, however, how far their works possessed an independent
and original character; it is probable that the best of these trage-
dies were servile imitations of the great Attic models*, and some of
them may have been mere centos, not altogether unlike the Christus
Patiens of Gregorius Nazianzenus’.

1 Suidas. He is not in Clinton’s list.

2 The Alexandrian custom of making Pleads or groups of seven for ‘‘ the stars”
of the day, is shown also by the well-known enumeration of the seven wonders of the
world.

3 The authorities do not agree in their lists of these tragedians. There are four
different catalogues (Clinton, /’. H. 11. p. 502); Homerus, Philiscus, and Lycophron’
appear in all four; Alexander A‘tolus and Sositheus in three; Alantides has three
testimonies, and Sosiphanes has two; and Dionysides, who is substituted for Sosi-
phanes in one of the lists, is attested by Strabo, XIv. p. 675.

4 In the list of Lycophron’s tragedies we have two plays entitled @dipus, and
others called Aolus, Andromeda, Hercules, Swpplices, Hippolytus, Pentheus.

5 «The Alexandrine scholars also took to manufacturing tragedies; but if we may
form a judgment from the only extant specimen, Lycophron’s Alexandra, which
consists of an interminable monologue, full of vaticination and lumbered with obscure
mythology, these productions of a would-be-poetical dilettantism were utterly lifeless,
untheatrical, and every way flat and unprofitable. The creative power of the Greeks
in this department was so completely defunct, that they were obliged to content them-
selves with repetitions of the old masterpieces.” On the Alexandra, which was not a
tragedy, as Schlegel supposes, see Hist, Lit. Gr. 1. pp. 437 foll.

1L—2

CHAPTER II.

ON THE GREEK COMEDIANS.

SECTION I.

THE COMEDIANS WHO PRECEDED OR WERE CONTEMPORARY WITH
j ARISTOPHANES.

Quorum Comedia prisca virorwm est.
HoraAtIvs.

| in the first exhibition of Epicharmus to the last of Posi-
dippus, the first and last of the Greek comedians, is a period
of about 250 years; and between these two poets, one hundred
and four authors are enumerated!, who are all said to have written
Comedies. The claims of some of these, however, to the rank of
comedians are very doubtful, and two who are contained in the list,
Sophron and his son Xenarchus, were mimographers, and as such,
were not only not comedians, but hardly dramatists at all, in the
Greek sense of the word.

It has been already mentioned that Greek Comedy did not
attain to a distinct literary form until it became Athenian ; and that,
in its Attic form, it presents itsclf in three successive varieties—the
Old, the Middle, and the New Comedy. The Sicilian Comedy,
which, in some of its features, resembled the Middle, rather than
the Old Comedy, found its origin in the same causes as the latter,
being immediately connected with the old farces of Megara and
the rustic buffooneries, which were common to the whole of Greece.
The absence, indeed, of a distinct political reference deprived it of
that ingredient which gave its greatest significance to the plays of
Aristophanes and his principal Athenian contemporaries during

1 By Clinton, 7. 7. 11. pp. xxxvi—xlvii,

PREDECESSORS OR CONTEMPORARIES OF ARISTOPHANES. 165

the first half of the Peloponnesian war, and on this account we
cannot class the dramatic efforts of the Siceliotes with those of the
Attic poets. But the Sicilian Comedy comes first in chronological
order, and Aristotle connects Crates with Epicharmus. Before
therefore we speak of the Attic comedians, we must give some
account of Epicharmus and his school.

Epicuarmus, the son of Helothales, whom Theocritus calls
the inventor of Comedy}, and who, according to Plato?, bore the
same relation to Comedy that Homer did to Tragedy, was a
native of Cos® and went to Sicily with Cadmus, the son of
Scythes, about the year 488 B.c. After residing a short time
at the Sicilian Megara*, he was removed to Syracuse along with
the other inhabitants of that town, when it was conquered by
Gelo in B.c. 484. Diogenes Laertius states that Epicharmus was
only three months old when he went first to Sicily: but this is con-
tradicted by his own statement, that the poet was one of the audi-
tors of Pythagoras, who died in 497 3.c., by the statement of
Aristotle®, that he was long before Chionides and Magnes, and by
the fact that he was a man of influence in the reign of Hiero, who
died eighteen years after the date of Epicharmus’ arrival in Sicily.
Besides being a Pythagorean and a comic poet, he is said to have
been a physician, as was also his brother. This has been consi-
dered an additional proof of his Coan origin?. He was ninety

"A te dwva Adpios, xavip, 6 Tav Kwuwdlav
Evpov ’Erlxappuos

"2 Baxxe, xddxedv vey avr’ ddawvod
Ti 58’ dvéOnxav,

Tol Dupaxdccas évidpuvrar Iedwpets ra wOdeL,
O? dvipl mrodira,

Lwpdv yap elxe xpnudrwv, peuvapevot
Tedety émlyerpa.

Tlo\Na yap rorray fody Tots ratoly ele xpyouua.
Meydda ydpis aire. Lpig. XVI.

2 Theetet. p. 152 E: of dxpor rhs moujoews éxarépas, Kwpwdlas pév “Emlyappos,
Ttpaywolas dé “Ounpos.

3 Diog. Laert. vit. 78.

4 See Miiller, Dorians, 1. 8, § 5, note (q), and Iv. 7, § 2.

5 Diog. u. s.: kal otros AKovce Ivdarydpov.

8 "ExeiBev [éx ZixeNas] yap qv ’Exixappyos 6 mounrhs, wod\dw mpdrepos Sv Xuwvidov
kal Mdyvynros. Arist. Poet. 111. 5.—Chionides, on the authority of Suidas and Eudo-
cia, began to exhibit B.c. 487: Aristotle’s expression, toh X@ mpdrepos dv Xwwvidov,
would therefore almost induce us to carry back the date of Epicharmus’ first Comedy
still higher than B.C. 500.

7 Miiller, Dor. rv. 7, § 2..

166 . THE COMEDIANS WHO PRECEDED OR WERE

or ninety-seven years old when he died’. The Comedies of Epi-
charmus? were partly parodies of mythological subjects, and as
such, not very different from the dialogue of the satyrical drama;
partly political, and in this respect may have furnished a model
for the dialogue of the old Athenian Comedy. He must have made
some advance towards the Comedy of Character, if it be true that
the Menechmi of Plautus was founded upon one of his plays*, and
Miiller has therefore well remarked‘, that although “the Sicilian
Comedy in its artistic development preceded the Attic by about
a generation, yet the transition to the middle Attic Comedy, as
it is called, is easier from Epicharmus than from Aristophanes,
who appears very unlike himself in the play which tends towards
the form of the Middle Comedy.” It is not stated expressly
that he had choruses in his Comedies; it seems, however, pro-
bable from the title of one of them (the Kwpacrai) that he had?®.
‘His stylew as not less varied than his subjects; for while, on the
‘one hand, he indulged in the wildest buffoonery, he was fond, on
the other hand, of making his characters discourse most philo-
sophically on all topics, and we may discern in many of his
remaining lines that moral and gnomic element which contributed
so much. to the formation of the dialogue in the Attic Tragedy®.
Aristotle charges him with using false antithesis’, the effect per-
haps of his acquaintance with the forced and artificial rhetoric
of the Sicilians. The titles of thirty-five of his Comedies are
known$. :

Although Epicharmus is mentioned as the inventor of Comedy,

1 Diog. Laert. (vit. 78) gives the former number ; Lucian (Macrob, xxv.) the
latter. “

2 On the nature of the Comedy of Epicharmus, see Miiller, Dor. Iv. 7, §§ 2, 3, 43
Hist. Lit. Gr. 1. pp. 44 [56 new ed.} sqq.

3 Prolog. Menechm. 12. 4 Hist. Lit. Gr. i. p. 46 [59 new ed.].

5 See above, p. 71.

6 See the passages in Clinton, 7. H. 11. p. xxxvi. note (g).

7 Rhetoric, U1. 9.

8 These titles are as follows :

1. ’Adkudy, 2.”Apuuxos, 3.’Araddvrat, 4. Bdkxat, 5. Botorpis, 6. Ta cal Oddacsa,
7, Acévucot, 8. ’EXmls 7} l\odros, 9. “HBas yduos, 10. ‘HpaxAjs Uapddopos, 11. Kixhwy,
12. Kwpacral } “Hdaoros, 13. Méyapis, 14. Modoat, 15. NedBns ydwos, 16, ’Odvoceds
a’réuoNos, 17. 'Odvoceds vavarydbs, 18. Ipounbeds Ilupxae’s, 19. Deipjves, 20. Ukipwy,
21. Uplyt, 22. TpGes, 23. Piroxryrns, 24. ’Aypworwo, 25. ‘Aprayal, 26. Aldidos,
27. ‘Hopry, 28. Oewpol, 29. Adyos 7} Aoyxh, 30. Ndoo, 31. Opa, 32. Iepladdos, 33.
Tlépoa, 34. Widwr, 35. X’rpar. See Fabricius, 0. p. 300, Harles, where however
there are some repetitions of names.

CONTEMPORARY WITH ARISTOPHANES. 167

it is probable that PHormis!, or Phormus?, preceded him by a few
Olympiads; for he was the tutor to the children of Gelon, Hiero’s
predecessor. He is supposed to have been the same with the
Phormis of Menalus, who distinguished himself in the service of
Gelo and Hiero in a military capacity*. From the titles of his
plays, it is presumed that they,were mythological parodies*.
He is said to have been the first to cover the stage with purple
skins®.

DrnoLocnus, according to Suidas the son, according to others
the scholar of Epicharmus, flourished about B.c. 487. He was a
native of Syracuse or Agrigentum: probably he was born at the
latter place, and represented at Syracuse. Adlian says he con-
tended with Epicharmus®.

While the Doric Comedy was rapidly advancing to perfection
in Sicily, a comic drama originally perhaps of much the same kind,
sprang up in Attica. This was the old Comedy, which was repre-
sented by a list of forty poets, and some three hundred plays,
including in the calculation the great name of Aristophanes.
Reserving him and his works for a separate chapter we shall here
enumerate the leading poets of the old Comedy, who were his pre-
decessors or contemporaries.

CHIONIDES, who is called the first writer of the old Athenian
Comedy, was a contemporary of the Sicilian comedians’. To
judge from the three titles which have come down to us—the
"“Hpwes, Ilépoa 1) “Acouptoé, and the Htwyot, we should conclude
that his Comedies had a political reference, and were full of per-
sonal satire; and, from an allusion in Vitruvius’, we may infer,

1 Aristot. Poet. 111. 5; V. 5.

* Athenzeus, XIV. 652 A; Suidas Péppos.

3 Pausan. Vv. 27, 1. Bentley thinks he is the same with the poet: not so Miiller,
Dor. tv. 7, § 2, note (g).

4 Three of them were called Kegatos, ’AAxvéves, and ’IAlou répOnots.

5 Suid. Comp. Aristot. Ethic. Iv. 2, 20.

6 Aplian, H. A. VI. 51.

7 Suidas, s. v. Xiwvldns, says that he was the mpwraywrisrhs THs dpxalas kwuwdlas,
and that he exhibited eight years before the Persian war, ¢.¢. in B.C. 488. Aristotle
therefore, or rather, his interpolator (Poet. 111. 5), must be misinformed when he says
that Epicharmus flourished long before Chionides and Magnes.

8 «Hee ita esse plures philosophi dixerunt, non minus etiam poet, qui antiquas

168 THE COMEDIANS WHO PRECEDED OR WERE

that they were gnomic like those of Epicharmus. The same
appears to have been the character of the Comedies of his country-
man and contemporary MAaGNes, from whom Aristophanes bor-
rowed the titles of two of his plays, the Batpayou and "OpviOes,
and perhaps the form of all of them. Magnes gained many
victories in his younger days: but when he was old, says Aristo-
phanes!, he was cast aside, merely because the edge of his satire
was blunted.

Of EcpHANTIDES we know little more than that for some
doubtful reason he was called Kazrvios?, and that he was one of the
oldest and most celebrated of the early comedians. We have the
title of only one of his plays, the Sarupo®. The Ivpavvos, men-
tioned as a play of "Eudavns, has been assigned to him; but the
true reading is probably ’Avtipavns*.

CRATINUS, the son of Callimedes, was born at Athens, B.c. 5195.
It is stated that he succeeded Magnes; he must, therefore, have
commenced his dramatic eareer late in life’. We do not know the
date of any of his Comedies earlier than the “ApyiAoyor: and
since allusion was made in that Comedy to the death of Cimon
(B.c. 449), it must. have been represented after that event?. By a
decree prohibiting Comedy, which was passed in the year 440 B.c.,
and was not repealed till the year 436 B.c., he was prevented from
producing any Comedies or plays in that interval’. After the
repeal of this decree in 436 B.c. Cratinus gained three comie vic-
tories. In 425 B.c. he was second with the Xempafowevor, Aristo-
phanes being first with the Ayapvjs, and Eupolis third with the
Novpnviar®. In 424 B.c. he gained the second prize with the
comcedias Greec? scripserunt, et easdem sententias versibus in scena pronuntiaverunt,
Eucrates, Chionides, Aristophanes,” &c. Vitruv. Preef. in lib, v1.
1 Fquit. 520:

Totro uéev eldws dade Mdyvys dua rats moXtais xar.ovcats,

“Os mrelaTa xXop&v rev dvrirddwv vikns tornoe Tpbrraa,

Ildcas 0° viv puvas lels, cal Yddrdr\wv, kal mrepvylfwy,

Kal dvdifvwy, cat Wnvifwav, cal Barrouevos Barpaxelos,

OvK €ijpxecer’ G\Na TerevTSv érl yihpws, ob yap éf’ 7HBys,

"EfeBAHOn mpecBirns wy, bre TOO cKwaTewv aredelpOn. 518.
Meineke, Hist. Crit. Com. 1. p. 36. 3 Athen. L p. 96 c.
Meineke, 1. ¢. p._37.
He died in 422 B.C. at the age of ninety-seven. Lucian, Macrob. c. xxv.
See Clinton, 7. H. 11. p. 49. 7 See Plutarch, Cimon, c. x.
Schol. Aristoph. Acharn. 67. ® Argun. Acharn.

CONTEMPORARY WITH ARISTOPHANES. 169

Latupot, Aristophanes being first with the ‘Iamfs, and Aristo-
menes third with the “Yrogdpor or "OXoduppyol!. In 423 B.c. Cra-
tinus gained the first prize with the Ilurivn: Ameipsias was second
with the Kovvos, and Aristophanes third with the Neféra?.. The
old poet died the year after this victory*. The names of forty of
his Comedies are known‘, He appears to have been an exceed-
ingly bold satirist®, and was so popular that his choruses were sung
at every banquet by the comus of revellers®. The model for his
iambic style was doubtless Archilochus’, whom he regarded as a
type of his own profession, and whom he multiplied, as he might
have done any other ideal, in the chorus of one of his plays (the
"Apxiroyor). ‘To his audacious frankness, even Aristophanes
appeared to be infected with the mincing rhetoric of Euripides®,
There is reason to believe that Cratinus, in imitation of Sophocles,
increased the number of comic actors to three®. Of his private
character we know nothing, save that he was a great tippler, and
recommended the use of wine both by precept and by example”.

1 Argun. Equit. 2 Argum. Nub.

3 Lucian, Macrob. xxv.; Proleg. Kiist. p. xxix.

4 Fabric. 11. p. 431, Harles.

> Comp. Horat. 1. Serm. iv. 1 sqq. with Persius, I. 123.

§ Aristoph. Equit. 526 sqq.

Eira Kparivov peuvnuévos, bs moXX\@ petoas Tor’ éraww
Aca Tov apedav rediwy espe, kal THs cTdoews Tapactipwv
*"Eddper Tas Spts xal ras mardvous kal Tovs éxOpovs mpofeAvuvous’
*A cae 5 ov Hv &v cuutocly, tAyy AQPOI TYKOIIEATAE,
Kai TEKTONE> EYITAAAMQN TMNON>: otrws AvOncev éxetvos.
Nuvi & tyets atrov épSvres rapadnpodvr’ ov« éecire,
"Extimroveay t&v i\éxtpwv, Kal rod révou ovK ér’ évérTos,
Tav 0 apuoray diaxackovow@y’ adda yépwr dy mrepréppet,
“Qomep Kévvas, srépavov pev éxwv atov, diver 8 drodwrwWs,
“Ov xpiv Sua Tas mporépas vikas rivew év r@ IIpuraveiy,
Kal ui Anpetv, GAG OeGcOat Aurapdv mapa 7H Acovicw.
Comp. Buttm. Mythol. 11. 345 foll.

7 His fragments abound in direct imitations of the great iambographer. See
Cratin. Archiloch. Fr. vit. 1x.; Pytine, Fr. x1. &c. The verb cuvyxepauydw in Pyt.
Fr. yu, is Archilochian; see above, p. 30.

8 He asks this question of his rival (Pragm. Incert. CLY.) :

Ti dé ob: Kouwds tis Eporro ears,
‘Troderronbyos, yrwmiduoKrys, evpiridapicropari (av.

To which Aristophanes answers (/ragm. CCOXCVII.) :
XpSpa yap airod rod orduaros TG arpoyytr\y,
Tods vods & dyopalous ATrov 7} Keivos Tod.
® Anon. de Com. p. xxxii. Comp. Meineke, Queestiones Scenice, I. p. 19.

10 Comp. Horat. 1. Zpist. x1x. 1; Aristoph. Pax, 687 (700) and Schol.; Meineke,
Fragm. Com. Vol, 11. p. 119.

170 THE COMEDIANS WHO PRECEDED OR WERE

CRATES is said to have been originally an actor in the plays of
Cratinus!; he could not, however, have followed this profession
very long, for we learn from Eusebius that he was well known as a
comedian in 450 B.c., which was not long after Cratinus, if he
could be called in any sense the successor of Magnes, began to
exhibit. He was the first comedian at Athens who departed from
the satyrical form of Comedy, and formed his plots from general
stories» The names of twenty-six of his Comedies are known’.
Aristophanes speaks in the highest terms of his wit and ingenuity *.
His brother Epitycus was an epic poet and comedian®.

PHERECRATES is mentioned as an imitator or rival of Crates,
whose actor he is said to have been; and an admirable emendation
of the corrupt passage, which is our chief account of him, assigns
his first victory to the archonship of Theodorus, B.c. 438%. Al-
though the same authority says that he abstained from personal
vituperation?, the fragments of his plays show that he attacked
Alcibiades, the tragic poet Melanthius, Polytion, and others. He
was distinguished by the elegance of his style, and is called
’"Artixotatos®. Perhaps his name is most familiar to scholars as
the inventor of the Pherecratean metre, which he calls a contracted
anapestic verse’, and which he probably formed by omitting the
first two times in the parcemiac!®. We have the names of between
15 and 20 of his Comedies.

1 Schol, Aristoph. Zguit. (p. 567, Dindorf).
2 Tév 52 "AOhvnow Kpdrns mparos jptev ddpeuevos Tis lauBixhs ldéas, KaBddov moceiv
Abyous 7 wUGous. Aristot. Poet. Iv. 7.
8 Fabricius, 0. p. 429, Harles.
4 Aristoph. Lquit. 537:
Kpdrns
“Os dd outxpas Sardvns buds apiorivwv amwéreurrev
"Amd KpauBordrov orduaros pdtTwv doreordras émwolas.
5 Suid. Kparys.
6 Anon. de Com. p. xxix.: Pepexpdrns ’AOnvatos vixd émt Oéarpov (I. él Oeodwpou
Dobree) yevduevos 6 5€ (om. 6 Dobr.) broxperhs éfpwke Kpdryra.
7 ro pev Noidopety amréarn.
8 Athen. vi. p. 268 ©; Suid. s. v. ’A@qvala; Phrynichus Sophist. ap. Steph. Byz.
s. v. A@jvat, p. 34, Meineke.
9 Ap. Hephest. X.5; XV. 15; Schol. Ar. Nub. 564:
dvipes mpbaaxere Tov voiv
éfeuvphuare Kaw@
cupnrTiKxros dvaralcro.s.
10 As the parcemiac is itself catalectic, the omission of a syllable at the beginning
makes it ovjrrukros, 2, €. ‘folded in at both ends.”

CONTEMPORARY WITH ARISTOPHANES. 171

Purynicuus, the comic poet, who must be carefully distin-
guished from the tragedian of the same name, exhibited first in
the year 435 B.c.1. He was attacked as a plagiarist in the Popyo-
dopo. of Hermippus, which was written before the death of
Sitalces, i.e. before 424 B.c.2 In 414 B.c. when Ameipsias was
first with the Kwpacrai, and Aristophanes second with the "Opu-
Mes, Phrynichus was third with the Movotpozos’. In 405 B.c.
Philonides was first with the Batpayo of Aristophanes, Phryni-
chus second with the Moveas, and Plato third with the Kreoddr4.
He is ridiculed by Aristophanes in the Batpayou for his custom of
introducing grumbling slaves on the stage®, The names of ten of
his pieces are known to us®,

Of Heruippus, the son of Lysis, we know nothing save that
he was opposed to Pericles’, and on one occasion prosecuted
Aspasia for impiety®. His brother Myrrimus was also a come-
dian®,

Evupouis was not much older than Aristophanes. It is stated
by Suidas that he was seventeen years old when he began to ex-
hibit; and if we may conclude from another statement”, that he
produced his first Comedy in the archonship of Apollodorus, he
must have been born about the year 446 B.c.1! The success of his
Comedy, called Nouynviac, in 425 B.c., has been already mentioned.
Two of his Comedies, the Mapixds and the Kodaxes, appeared in
4218.c. The Adrodrveos came out in the following year, when
perhaps he wrote the ’Actpatevror also, for that play appears to
have preceded the Ezpyyn of Aristophanes, which was acted in

1 Suid. bpvv.—édidaée 7d mpGrov ért wor’ d\vumiddos, Clinton would read wr’.
2 Clinton, F, H. 11. p. 67. 3 Arg. Av. 4 Arg. Ran.
5 Aristoph. Ran. 12 sqq.
EavOlas. ri dr’ @e me radra ra oKxe’n Pépew,
elrep Tovjow pndev Svrep Pptvixos
elw0e moretv, kal Avxis, x’ ’Aperpias,
oxetn pepoto’ éxdoror év kwpwila;
Acéyucos. ph viv momoys’ ws eyo Pewpevos,
érav Te ToUTwWY T&Y codicudTwv lbw,
Trev 7} ’viauT@ mpecBUrepos amépxouac.
6 Fabricius, 1. p. 483, Harles.
7 See the Anapests in Plutarch, Pericles, XXXIII.
8 Plutarch, Pericles, cXXXI, Xxxu. This was about the year 432 B.C.
9 Suid. Muprios. 10 Prolegom. Aristoph. p. xxix,
11 Clinton, F. H. 1. p. 63.

142 THE COMEDIANS WHO PRECEDED OR WERE

4198.c.! According to one account he was thrown overboard by
Alcibiades on his way to Sicily in 415 8.¢., in consequence of
some invectives against that celebrated man, which he had intro-
duced into one of his Comedies. This story is improbable in itself;
and it is, besides, refuted by two circumstances: Kratosthenes ad-
duced some Comedies which he had written after the year 415 B.c.?,
and Pausanias tells us that his tomb was on the banks of the
Asopus in the territory of the Sicyonians*, According to another
account, he fell in a sea-fight in the Hellespont; and Aigina is
said to have been the place of his burial. The titles of twenty-four
of his Comedies have been preserved‘. Eupolis was very personal
and scurrilous, and almost every one of his plays seems to have
been written to caricature and Jampoon some obnoxious individual.
The Mapixads was a professed attack upon the demagogue Hyper-
bolus®; in the AvroAvkos he ridiculed the handsome pancratiast of
that name®; in the Aotpatevtot, which was probably a pasquinade,
directed against the useless and cowardly citizens of Athens, Me-
lanthius was denounced as an epicure’; the Bazrai dealt very
hardly with Alcibiades’; and in the Ad«wves he inveighed against
Cimon, both in his public and private character, because that
statesman was thought to incline too much to the Spartans, and
showed in every action a desire to counteract the democratical
principle, which was at work in the Athenian constitution®. Ari-

1 See Clinton, under these years. Autolycus was a sort of Agathon ; like Agathon
he obtained a victory at the public games, and is the hero of a symposium (Athen. v.

187 F, 217 D, and Xenoph. Symposiwm); and, like Agathon, he was courted for his
personal attractions. Athen. p. 188 A.

_ * Quis enim non dixit, Evrodw, rév rs dpxaias, ab Alcibiade, navigante in Sici-
liam, dejectum esse in mare? Redarguit Eratosthenes. Adfert enim, quas ille post
id tempus fabulas docuerit. Cicero ad Att. VI. 1.

* Pausan. 11. 7,3. 4 Fabricius, 11. p. 445, Harles.

® Schol. Nub. 591: ed:ddx0n Kad’ 'TrepBddov pera Tov Kdéwvos Odvatov. See
also the passage from the ‘Im7fjs quoted below.

5 Athen. v. 216, where Eupolis is said to have brought out this piece under the
name of Demostratus, probably the same as Demopeeetus, a comic poet mentioned by
Suidas, v. xdpai. There were two editions of the Autolycus,

? Schol. Aristoph. Paw, 808.

8 Themist. p. 110 B. The words of Juvenal, 11. gt, if they refer to this Comedy,
would imply that the obscene rites of Cotytto were the objects of his censure—
Talia secret&é coluerunt orgia teda
Cecropiam soliti Bapte lassare Cotytto.
On the Cotyttia and the Bapte, see Buttmann, Mythol. 1. p. 159 sqq. and Meineke,
Hist. Crit. p. 119 sqq.
® Plutarch, Cim. xv. With regard to the name of the Comedy, we may remark,
that Cimon had called his son Lacedwmonius (see Thucyd. I. 45), and that the name
of the son was often an epithet of the father. Miiller, Dor. 1. 3, § 10, note (f).

CONTEMPORARY WITH ARISTOPHANES. 173

stophanes, too, seems to have been on bad terms with Eupolis,
whom he charges with having pillaged the materials for his Mapixas
from the “Immjs', and with making scurrilous jokes on his prema-
ture baldness*. Enupolis appears to have been a warm admirer of
Pericles as a statesman and as a man, as it was reasonable that
such a Comedian should be, if it is true that he owed his unre-
strained license of speech to the patronage of that celebrated
minister. We may form an idea of .the style of Eupolis from the
Horsemen and Frogs of Aristophanes, which had many points
in common with the Maricas and Demi of this poet. For
as in the Maricas Hyperbolus, so in the Horsemen Cleon is
represented as an intriguing and influential slave of the people,
and in both Comedies the worthy Nicias appears as an under-
valued and superseded domestic. As in the Frogs of Aristo-
phanes, Bacchus visits the lower world to seek out and restore to
Athens one of the older and better tragedians, so in the Dem?
of Eupolis, Myronides is made to bring back Solon, Miltiades, and
Pericles, to their unworthy and degenerate countrymen.

Other writers of the Old Comedy are mentioned as the prede-
cessors or contemporaries of Aristophanes; but we know little
more of them than their names; though it is probable that many
of them (for instance, AMEIPSIAS, who twice conquered Aristo-
phanes) were (at least in the opinion of their contemporaries) by
no means deficient in merit.

Of those poets of the Old Comedy, who survived the full vigour
of Athenian democracy and lived till the period of transition to the

2 Otro 8 ws drat wapéiwxev NaBhy ‘TrépBoros,

Tovrov del\acov KoNeTpGo’ del kal Thy pnrépa.

Hirodis prev tov Mapixay mpwticrov mapei\kucev

’ExorpéWas rods iyuerépous ‘Imméas Kakds kaxds,

IIpocels att ypaty peOtonv, Tod Képdaxos eivey’, iv

Ppivixos mada werolny’, yv 7d Kjros Hoey. Nubes, 551 sqq.

Eupolis, however, had reasons for recriminating. See Meineke, Hist. Crit. p. 101, and
below, Section IT.
2 See the Schol. on Wud. 532:
od’ éoxwwWe Tovs padaxpous.
3 Eupolis, Ajos*
Kpdrioros ovros éyéver’ dvOpirwv éyew.
‘Omére mapé\Oot, worep ayalol Spouis,
°EK 6éka rodGy qper Aéywv Tods pijropas.
B. Taxdv Aéyers dv, mpds 5é y’ adrod TG Tdxe
Tlev@a ris emexddigev emt rots xeiNeow"
Oitws éxjrer, Kal pdvos Tav pynrdpwv
Td Kévrpov éyxarédevre Tots dkpowmévots.
Schol. Aristoph, Acharn. p. 794, Dindorf. See Meineke, Fragm. m1. 458.

174 THE COMEDIANS WHO PRECEDED OR WERE

Middle Comedy, the most eminent were PLAto, THEOPOMPUS, and
STRATTIS.

PLATO, commonly known as 6 k@pixos, to distinguish him from
his great namesake the philosopher, first exhibited in B.c. 427},
and as he alluded in one of his plays to the appointment of Agyr-
rhius as general of the army at Lesbos?, he must have been
flourishing in B.C. 389. In-his Pecsander he described himself
as having laboured for others, like an Arcadian mercenary®*, And
this has been interpreted as indicating his poverty*. It may, how-
ever, simply mean that Plato did not at first represent under his
own name; but, like Aristophanes and Ameipsias, published his
dramas anonymously, until in the parabasis to the Peisander he
thought it expedient to assert his literary claims’. There seems
to be little doubt that Plato was one of the most distinguished of
the contemporaries of Aristophanes. His style is described as
“prilliant®.” Though he inclined to the type of Middle Comedy
in his later years, his earlier plays were full of political satire, and
Dio Chrysostom mentions him along with Aristophanes and Cra-
tinus as a specimen of the abusive personalities to which the
Athenians were willing to listen’. His attacks were directed
against demagogues like Cleon, Hyperbolus, Cleophon, Peisander,
and Agyrrhius, against the general Leagrus, and the rhetoricians
Cephalus and Archinus. And, like Eupolis, he ventured to ridi-
cule Aristophanes himself*. He left twenty-eight Comedies®, some
of which bore the names of the persons against whom they were
directed”,

1 Cyrill. ad Julian. I. p. 13 B.

® Plutarch, Pree. resp. ger. p. 801 B, For Agyrrhius and his appointment see
Xen, Hell. tv. 8, 31; Diod. Sic. x1v. 99. Cf. Schol. Eccles. 102.

3 Suidas, s. v. ’Apkddas pipovpmevor.

4 Suidas says dd weviay’Apxddas wetcOac &py, but there is nothing to show that
this was the assertion of Plato himself.

5 Meineke, Hist. Crit. Com. p. 162.
8 Bekker, Anecd, p. 1461: 67d xapaxrijpa Naumpéraros. Cf, Suidas, s. v. TAdrwv.
7 Orat, XXXII. p. 4, Reiske.

8 Schol. Plat. p. 331, Bekker: xwpwdetrar 5¢ bre 7d THs Elpiwys KoNooorxdy e&jpev
dyadpa Eitrokits AvroN’xw, IAdrwv Nixacs.

9 Anon. de Com. p. xxxiv. ; Bekker. Anecd. us. Suidas enumerates 30, but two
of these, the Adxwves and Maypdxvdos, were merely two editions of the same play.

10 As the Kicopay, the ‘faépBoXos and the IMelcavdpos.

CONTEMPORARY WITH ARISTOPHANES. 1%3

TuEopompus, the son of Theodectes, Theodorus, or Tisamenus,
is said to have been a contemporary of Aristophanes, but, if we
may judge from the titles of twenty of his plays, which have been
preserved, his style must have been chiefly that of the Middle
Comedy.

Srratris, who began to exhibit about B.c. 412, and wrote
about twenty plays, two of which, the Medea and Phenisse, derived
their titles and probably their subjects from tragedies by Euripides,
is chiefly interesting from the fact that he entertained a warm
admiration for the tragi-comedies of that poet, especially the
Orestes which he called épaua defvetatov", a circumstance which
tends to confirm our belief that Euripides exercised a paramount
influence over the later writers of Attic Comedy.

Besides the fifteen names which we have mentioned, the fol-
lowing poets are assigned to the Old Comedy.

1. TELECLEIDES, a contemporary and opponent of Pericles.

2. PuHrILonipes, a friend and coadjutor of Aristophanes.

3. ARCHIPPUS, who gained the prize in B.C. 415, and was
chiefly celebrated for a play called the Wishes in which he ridi-
culed the fish-dinners of Athens.

4, ARISTOMENES, who competed with Aristophanes in B.c. 424
and 392.

5. CALLIAS, a younger contemporary of Cratinus.

6. Lystppus, who won the prize in B.c. 435, and whose
play called the Bacche gained some reputation.

7. Lxeucon, who competed with Aristophanes and Eupolis
in B.C. 422 and 4212.

8. MeETAGENES, who is known by the names of some five or
six Comedies, and seems to have enjoyed a considerable repu-
tation.

9. ARISTAGORAS, who edited the Adpac of Metagenes with the
new title MaypaxvOos, to which Aristophanes alludes.

10. ARISTONYMUS, a contemporary of Aristophanes, best known
by his play called The Shivering Sun (“Hdsos peyar).

1 Schol. Eurip. Orest. 278. 2 Meineke, Hist, Crit. Com. p. 217.

176 PREDECESSORS OR CONTEMPORARIES OF ARISTOPHANES.

11. ALc#US, a writer of mythological Comedies.

12. Evuwnicus (or Ain1cus), whose Comedies Anteva or Antheta
and The Cities are attributed to other writers?.

13. CANTHARUS, a contemporary of Plato the Comedian, to
whom one of his plays is attributed.

14. Dioceses of Philius, of the same age as Cantharus.

15. NicocHarss, son of Philonides, wrote mythical Comedies,
and belonged to the Middle Comedy as well as to the Old.

16. Nicopnon, a younger contemporary of Aristophanes, but
a poet of the mythical school.

17. Puriytutus’, a careless poet, inclining to the style of the
Middle Comedy.

18. PoLyzeLus, a poet of mythical Comedy.

19. SANNYRION, a contemporary of the later poets of the Old
Comedy, by whom he is ridiculed.

20. APOLLOPHANES, a contemporary of Strattis.

21. Epitycus, author of the Coraliscus.

22. HurHycues, author of the Profligates and Atalanta.
23. Demetrius, wrote after the Peloponnesian war.

24, CrpHisoporus, author of the Amazons, Antilais, Tro-
phonius and the Hog.

25. AUTOCRATES, author of the Tympaniste.

1 Meineke, Hist. Crit. Com. pp. 250, 260.

2 Philyllius is said to have been the first to introduce torches on the stage (Schol.
Aristoph. Plut. 1195); and it is remarkable that he used the word dvad\pdB8yros as a
synonym for dud@nros ypayudrwv (Antiatticista, p. 83).

CHAPTER. II.

SECTION IL.

ARISTOPHANES.

Te suys, moyennant ung peu de Pantagruelisme (vous entendez que c'est certaine guayeté
desperit conficte en mepriz des choses fortuites) sain et degowt; prest a boyre, st
voulez. RABELAIS.

F the works of the other comedians we possess only detached
fragments; but eleven of the plays of ARISTOPHANES have
come down to us complete. This alone would incline us to wish
for a fuller account of the writer, even though the intrinsic value of
his remaining Comedies were not so great as it really is. Unfor-
tunately, however, we know much less about Aristophanes than
about any of his distinguished contemporaries, and the materials
for his biography are so scanty and of so little credit, that we
willingly turn from them to his works, in which we see a living
picture of the man and his times. The following are the few par-
ticulars which are known regarding his personal history!. His
father’s name was Philippus?, not Philippides, as has been inferred
from the inscription on a bust supposed to represent him’. Of the
rank and station of his father we know nothing; it is presumed,

1 The reader will find a full and accurate discussion of all questions relating to the
life of Aristophanes down to the representation of the Clowds in Ranke’s Com-
mentatio de Aristophanis Vita, prefixed to Thiersch’s edition of the Plutus. See also
Bergk in Meineke’s Fragm. 11. pp. 893—940.

* This is stated by all the authorities of his life—namely, his anonymous biogra-
pher, the writer on Comedy in the Greek prolegomena to Aristophanes, the Scholiast
on Plato, and Thomas Magister.

3 The inscription is ’"Apiucropdyns Pitirmldov. That this statue is not genuine is
now generally agreed. See Winckelmann, Il. p. 114. The fact that his son’s name

was Philippus is an evidence that it was also the grandfather's name. Ranke,
elxxxiv.

D. T. G, 12

178 ARISTOPHANES.

however, from his own silence, and that of his enemies, that it was
respectable. More than one country claims the honour of being his
birth-place. The anonymous writer on Comedy says merely that
he was an Athenian; the author of his life, and Thomas Magister,
add that he was of the Cydathenean Deme, and Pandionid Tribe.
Suidas tells us, that some said he was from Lindus in Rhodes, or
from Camirus; that others called him an A%gyptian!, and others
an /Mginetan. All this confusion seems to have arisen from the
fact, that Cleon, in revenge for some of the invectives with which
Aristophanes had assailed him, brought an action against the poet
with a view to deprive him of his civic rights (£evlas ypady).
Now the defence, which Aristophanes is said to have set up on this
occasion, shows the object of Cleon was to prove that he was not
the son of his reputed father Philippus, but the offspring of an
illicit intercourse between his mother and some person who was not
an Athenian citizen. Consequently his nominal parents are tacitly
admitted to have been Athenian citizens, and, as Cleon failed to
prove his illegitimacy, he must have been one likewise. That he
was born at Athens cannot but be evident to every one who has
read his Comedies. Would a mere resident alien have laboured so
strenuously for the good of his adopted country ? Would one who
was not a citizen by birth have ventured to laugh at all who did
not belong to the old Athenian dpatpias?? and how are we other-
wise to account for the purely Athenian spirit, language, and tone
which pervade every line that he wrote? It would not be difficult
to explain why these different countries have been assigned as the
birth-places of Aristophanes. With regard to the statement that
he was a Rhodian; he is very often confounded with Antiphanes
and Anaxandrides, the former of whom was, according to Dio-
nysius, a Rhodian, and the latter, according to Suidas, was born at
Camirus. ‘The notion that he was an A‘gyptian may very well
have arisen from the many allusions which he makes to the people
of that country, and their peculiar customs. With regard to the
statement of Heliodorus that he was from Naucratis, it is possible
that writer may be alluding to some commercial residence of his
ancestors in that city, but his words do not imply that either Aris-

1 Heliodorus rept ’Axporé\ews (apud Athen. VI. p. 229 E) says that he was of
Naucratis in the Delta,

2 Ran, 418; Aves, 765.

ARISTOPHANES. 179

tophanes or his parents were born there. His A%ginetan origin has
been presumed from the passage in the Acharnians, in which his
actor Callistratus (who was the nominal author of the play) alludes
to his being one of the «Anpodyor, to whom that island had been
assigned!, We have positive evidence that he was one of them,
and the fact that these «Anpodyor were generally poor? would show
that Callistratus is alluding to himself, and not to Aristophanes ;
and even if he were, this would be no proof that Aristophanes
was not a citizen, for all the xAnpodyou continued to enjoy their
civic rights*. The remains of Aristophanes are suflicient to show
that he had received a first-rate education. There is no positive
evidence for the opinion‘, that he was a pupil of Prodicus. The
three passages in his remaining Comedies®, in which he mentions
that sophist, do not show the usual respect of a disciple for his
master, and the coincidence in name, and probable similarity of
subject, between the *Qpae of Aristophanes and The Choice of Her-
cules by Prodicus, are perhaps a proof that the Comedian parodied
and ridiculed, rather than admired and imitated, the latter®.

The literary career of Aristophanes naturally divides itself into
three periods, defined by the corresponding changes of social and
political life at Athens. As Attic Comedy rose and fell with the
democratic domination of the state, even the genius of its greatest
representative could not control the outward influences to which he
was exposed. The waning vigour of popular freedom necessarily
affected the political character of Comedy, and deprived the para-
basis or address to the audience of its unconstrained liberty of
speech. On the other hand, the fatal catastrophe of Syracuse,
while it destroyed the flower of the citizens, so seriously diminished
the resources of the state, that the dramatic entertainments could
no longer be exhibited with the same lavish expenditure. Fyrom
both causes, the chorus of Comedy became insignificant, till, at

1 Thueyd. 1. 27; Diod. xm. 44. Caliistratus was one of them, Aristophanes not.
Schol. Achar. 654, p. 8or, Dind.: ovdels ioropynicey ws év Atyé 4 cay as Tt ’Apio-
ropdvns, GNN éoxe Tatra repl Kah\uorpdrou héyesPau, ds KEKAnpovxyKer ev Alylen werd

Thy avaoracw Alywnyrdy bd ’AOnvaiwy.
? Boéckh, Econ. of Ath. Vol. 11. p. 172, note 521, Engl. Tr.

3 Bockh, Ze. 11. p. 174. ‘ Of Riickert on Plat. Symp. pp. 280 sqq.
5 Aves, 692; Nudes, 360; fr. Tragonist. No. 418, Dindorf.
6 On the “Qpa: of Aristophanes and Prodicus, see Welcker in the Rhein. Mus. for

1833, p. 576. He thinks that the connexion betw een the “Qa of sivaé® two author:
is merely accidental, p. 592

12—9

180 ARISTOPHANES.

last, there was the literary paradox of a cwpwdia without its c@pos.
The eleven extant Comedies of Aristophanes may be arranged in
three groups corresponding to the three periods, to which we refer.
In the first period, which extends to the time of the Sicilian expe-
dition, we have six Comedies, all of which represent the unimpaired
genius of the poet, and the complete machinery of the comic stage.
These are the Acharnians, the Horsemen, the Clouds, the Wasps,
the Peace, and the Birds. The second period, which corresponds
to the later years of the war, is represented by three dramas, in
which the political element and the chorus are both diminished in
prominence and importance. These are the Lysistrata, the Thes-
mophoriazuse, and the Frogs. ‘The third and concluding period,
which followed the downfal of the Athenian empire, exhibits the
genius of Aristophanes in its feeblest form, and has transmitted to
us only two Comedies, the Heclesiazuse and the Plutus, in which
the choral element is altogether insignificant, and the plots are
derived from the ideal world rather than from the actualities of
Athenian life, which furnished the materials for the Comedies of
the first period.

Aristophanes brought out his first Comedy, the Lanqueters,
(Aaitadets) in B.C. 4271; and it is from the known date of this
play that we must infer his birth-year. It is stated? that he was
at this time little more than a boy (cyeddv pecpaxioxos). We are
told, indeed’, that he was thirty years of age when the Clouds
was acted. This would place his birth-year at 453, if the first
edition, or at 452 B.¢., if the second edition of that play is referred
to*.. But could a man born so early as 452 B.c. be called oyedov
petpaxioxos at the time of the great plague? We think he could
not. If, then, these two authorities of the same kind contradict
one another, which are we to adopt? Now there is no reason to
doubt the first statement, that Aristophanes was very young at the
time when his first Comedy appeared; and there is reason to believe
that the second statement is merely an inference drawn from a mis-
interpretation of a passage in the Clouds. We feel inclined, there~

1 See the passages in Clinton, 7. H. m1. p. 65.

2 Schol. Ran. 504. Miiller thinks (ist. Lit. Gr. 1. p. 19, new ed.) that this state-
ment is an exaggeration, and that Aristophanes was at least twenty-five in B.0. 427.

3 Schol. Nub. p. 237, Dindorf.

4 Unless we adopt Ranke’s conjecture with regard to the date of the second
edition, which would make the two accounts nearly agree. See below, p. 184.

ARISTOPHANES. 181

fore, to reject the latter altogether, and take the former as the only
means we have of approximating to the birth-year of Aristophanes,
which, if he was oxeddov perpaxicxos or nearly seventeen in 427
B.C., must have been about the year 444 B.C.

The Banqueters, which was acted in the name of Philonides?,
Was an exposition of the corruptions which had crept into the
Athenian system of education. A father was introduced with two
sons, one of them educated in the old-fashioned way, the other
brought up in all the new-fangled and pernicious refinements of
sophistry; and by drawing a comparison between the two young
men to the disadvantage of the latter, the poet hoped to attract the
attention of his countrymen to the dangers and inconveniences of
the new system?. The second prize was awarded to Philonides,
and the play was much admired®, In 426 B.c. he brought out
the Babylonians, and, in the following spring, the Acharnians,
both under the name of his actor Callistratus4. The latter gained
the first prize, the second and third being adjudged to Cratinus
and Eupolis. The chorus of the Babylonians consisted of barbarian
slaves employed in the mills®: this is all that we know of the plot
of the piece. It appears to have been acted at the great Dionysia,
and to have been an attack upon the demagogues; for Cleon, who
was then (Pericles having recently died) at the head of affairs®,
brought an edoayyedéa before the senate against Callistratus, on the
grounds that he had satirized the public functionaries in the pre-
sence of their allies, who were then at Athens to pay the tribute’.

1 Dindorf, fr. Aristoph. p. 527, Oxford edition. Ranke (p. cccxx) thinks it was
Callistratus. If there is truth in the statement that he handed over to Callistratus his
political dramas, and to Philonides those which related to private life, the Aattadets
was probably transferred to the latter.

2 See Siivern, ber die Wolken, pp. 26 foll.
3 Schol. Nub. 529. 4 Clinton, 7. H. under those years.

5 See Hesych. s. vv. BaSvAdvio1.—Zaulwy 6 Sjuos. And Suid. s, v. BaSvdwvia
Kdjuvos.
6 Thucydides, writing of the year before the performance of The Babylonians,
says (112. 36), that KNéwy was TQ Symp mapa TOD év TH Tore TiBavwraros.
7 Comp. Acharn. 355 foll.:
Aurés 7’ éuavrdv td KXéwvos dralov
"Erlorapae bid Thy wépvor Kwpwolav.
Hicedxtcas ydp ww’ els Td BovNeuvTHpLov
AréBadde kal Wevdh KatreyAwrTLfé mou,
KadkvkdoBdpe xamduvey wor’ ddtyou mdvu
’"Arrwddunv modvvoTparyhovotjevos*
with vv. 476 foll.:
"Eya 5é AdEw Dewa pev dikara de
Od ydp me viv ye SuaBadet Kréwv ore

182 ARISTOPHANES.

This accusation has been confounded with the indictment of £evia,
brought by Cleon against Aristophanes himself.

It does not appear that Cleon was successful in establishing his
charge, for we find Callistratus again upon the stage the following
year, when the Acharnians was performed at the Lenwa. The
object of this play, the earliest of the Comedies of Aristophanes
which have come down to us entire, is to induce the Athenians,
by holding before them the blessings of peace, and by ridiculing
the braggadocios of the day, to entertain any favourable proposals
which, the Lacedemonians might make for putting an end to the
disastrous war in which they were engaged; and while he ventured
to utter the well-nigh forgotten word Peace, he boldly told his
countrymen that they had sacrificed, without any just or sufficient
cause, the comforts which he painted to them in such vivid colours.

Aristophanes, having conferred upon the nominal authors of
his early plays much, not only of reputation, but also of danger,
now thought it right to appropriate to himself both the glory and
the hazard of his undertaking, and in 424 B.c. demanded a chorus
in his own name. ‘The Comedy, which he exhibited on this oc-
casion, and in the composition of which Eupolis claimed a share,
was the Horsemen; it was acted at the Lenexa, and gained the
first prize: Cratinus was second, and Aristomenes third}. The
object of this play is to overthrow Cleon, who was then flushed
with his undeserved success at Sphacteria in the preceding year,
and had excited the indignation of Aristophanes and all the Athe-
nians who wished well to their country, by his constant opposition
to the proposals of the Lacedemonians for an equitable arrange-
ment of the terms of peace. The demagogue was considered at
that time so formidable an adversary, that no one could be found
to make a mask to represent his features, so that Aristophanes,
who personated him on the stage, was obliged to return to the old

Zdéwv rapbvrwv thy ridkw Kkaxds eyo,

Avrol ydp écpev obrt Anvaly 7 ayur,

Kottrw Eévor wapewu"
and the Scholiasts. On the relations between Aristophanes and Cleon, and on the
character of the latter, the student will find some striking remarks in Grote, Hist. Gr.
Vol. vi. pp. 657 sqq.

1 Argum. Eqq. The reference of this piece to the Lenza is supported by the
allusion in vv. 881—3, to the wintry weather, which prevailed in the month Lenzon,
according to Hesiod. On the claims of Eupolis to a share in this Comedy, see Bern-
hardy, Grundriss, I. p. 973; and for the passage attributed to him, Meineke, Fragm.
10 eh ety ff

ARISTOPHANES. 1835

custom of smearing the face with wine-lees!; and, as Cleon is
represented in the play as a great drunkard, the substitute was
probably adequate to the occasion. The Comedy is an allegorical
caricature of the broadest kind, showing how the eminent generals
and statesmen, Nicias and Demosthenes, with the aid of the «aXot
xaya0oi among the citizens, delivered the Athenian John Bull
from the clutches of the son of Clezenetus, and effected a marvellous
change in the temper and external appearance of their doting
master. This is expressed in a wonderfully ingenious manner.
The instrument they use is one Agoracritus, who is called a
sausage-seller (a\Xavtor#dns). Now there lived, at this time, a
celebrated sculptor of that name, who, having made for the Athe-
nians a most beautiful statue of Venus which they could not buy,
transformed it into a representation of Nemesis, and sold it to the
Rhamnusians?.. It is this Agoracritus, who, by a play upon the
words d\Adooew and dvds, is called a transformation-monger in
regard to the People: he changes the easy good-tempered old man
into a punisher of the guilty—a laughing Venus into a frowning
Nemesis ;—he metamorphoses the ill-clad unseemly Demus of the
Pnyx into a likeness of the beautiful Demus, the son of Pyrilampes
the Rhamnusian, just as Agoracritus transferred to Rhamnus a
statue destined for Athens. It seems to have been in consequence
of this attack that Cleon made the unsuccessful attempt (to which
we have already alluded) to deprive Aristophanes of his civic
rights.

The next recorded Comedy of Aristophanes is the Clouds,
the most celebrated and perhaps the most elaborately finished, as it
is certainly the most serious, of his remaining plays. When he
first submitted it to the judges, the plays of Cratinus and Ameip-
sias, who were his competitors, were honoured with the first and
second prizes. This was in the year 423 B.c.; and it is probable
that Aristophanes, indignant at his unexpected ill-success, with-
drew the play, and did not bring it out till some years afterwards,
when he added something to the parabasis, and perhaps made a
few other alterations. The author of the argument and the Scho-
liast refer the second edition to the year 422 B.c.; but it has been
shown from the mention of the Marteas of Eupolis, and other
internal evidences, that it could not have been acted till some years

1 Schol. Zqg. 230. See above, p. 73. 2 Plin. H. N. XXXVI. 4.

184 ARISTOPHANES.

after the death of Cleon; and it is conjectured that it did not
appear till after the exhibition of the Lysistrata in 411 B.c. It
will not be expected that we should here enumerate the various
opinions which have been entertained of the object of Aristophanes
in writing this Comedy?2, or that we should enter upon a new and
detailed examination of the piece. We must, on the present occa-
sion, be content with stating briefly: and generally, what we
conceive to have been the design of the poet. In the Wasps,
which was written the year after the first ill-success of the
Clouds, he calls this Comedy an attack upon the prevailing
vices of the young men of his day* Now, if we turn to the
Clouds, we shall see that he not only does this, but also mves-
tigates the causes of the corrupt state of the Athenian youth; and
this he asserts to have arisen from the changes introduced into the
national education by the sophists, by the substitution of sophis-
tical for rhapsodical instruction. The hero of the piece is Socrates,
who was, in the judgment of Aristophanes, a sophist to all intents
and purposes. We do not think it necessary to deny that Socrates
was a well-meaning man, and in many respects a good citizen ;
we are disposed to believe that he was, not because Plato and
Xenophon have represented him as such (in their justification of
his character, each of them is but fatpds a@dXwv avTos EdKeot
Bpvov), but because Aristophanes has brought no specific charges
against him, as far as his intentions are concerned. But Socrates
was an innovator in education; he approved, perhaps assisted in
the corruptions which Euripides introduced into Tragedy ; he was
the pupil and the friend of several of the sophists; it was in his
character of dialectician that he was courted by the ambitious

1 Ranke, chapters XXVIII. and XL.

2 We refer the reader who wishes to study this subject minutely and accurately
to Hermann, Prefat. ad Nubes, xxxii—liv; Wolf’s Introduction to his German
translation of the play; Reisig. Prefat. ad Nubes, viii—xxx, and his Essay in the
Rheinisches Museum for 1828, pp. 191 and 464; Mitchell’s and Welcker’s Introduc-
tions to their Translations of Aristophanes; Ranke, Comment. chapters XLI.—XLIV. ;
Siivern’s Essay; and Miiller, Hist. Lit. Gr. m1. pp. 33, new ed. sqq. Rétscher has
given a general statement of some of these opinions in his Aristophanes und sein
Zeitalter, pp. 294—391, which he follows up with his own not very intelligible view
of the question.

3 vv. 1037 foll.:

P°ANN dberep budv ere cal vuvt rodeue?. gnolv re wer’ abrod
Tots Ariddows ércyeipjcac wépvowv Kal Tots muperotow
Ot rods marépas tT Hyxov vixtwp Kal Tods wammous amrérveyor,
Karakd\wdpevol 7’ ért rats xolras éml rotow dmpdyuocw buoy
’Avrwpoclas Kal mpookA\joes Kal papruplas cuvexd\XNwy, K.T.A,

ARISTOPHANES. 185

young men; he was the tutor of Alcibiades; his singular manners
and affected slovenliness had every appearance of quackery; and,
if we add, that he was the only one of the eminent sophists who
was an Athenian-born, we shall not wonder that Aristophanes
selected him as the representative of the class. The other two
principal characters are a father and son. The latter is a general
personification of the young profligates of the day, and only wants
a little sophistical education to enable him to throw aside every
moral restraint. His silly father supplies this defect, and is the
first to suffer from the weapon which he has placed in his son’s
hand. The name of the father, Strepsiades, shows that he is
intended as a representative of the class who advocated the change
in education’. It does not appear of whom his mask was a por-
trait. It is likely that the son, Pheidippides, came forward in the
character of Alcibiades, who had the same love for horses, and
bore a similar relation to Socrates*: at the same time, the promi-
nent part which Alcibiades was beginning to take in public affairs,
and the influence he possessed over the young men of his own age,
pointed him out as their most adequate representative. With
these actors, then, the Clouds was merely a general exhibition
of the corrupt state of education at Athens, and of its causes; it
was a loudly uttered protest, on the part of Aristophanes, against
the useless and pernicious speculations of the sophists*, and was
not intended to pave the way for the accusation which was many
years afterwards brought against Socrates as a corrupter of youth,
whatever may have been its effect upon the verdict of the Dicasts
at the trial. The Clouds appears to have been acted at the great
Dionysia‘.

The Wasps was brought out in the name of Philonides, and
performed at the Lenza, in 422 B.c. As the object of the Clouds
was to attack the prevailing vices of the young men of the day,
and to stigmatize the love of disputation, which was so prevalent
at Athens, and which the sophists did so much to foster, so it was
the intention of the Wasps to inveigh against a predominant fault

1 Nub. 88, 434, 1455. 2 Siivern, iiber die Wolken, p. 33.

3 Siivern has conjectured very ingeniously, that the Néyos ddccos wore a mask
representing Thrasymachus, because his opponent addresses him in y. 8go, xalzep
Opacds wy, and in v. 915, @pacds ef roddod; and that the Adyos Slkacos was Aris-
tophanes himself. Uber die Wolken, p. 12, note (3).

4 See Nubes, 311.

186 ARISTOPHANES.

of the old peevish Athenians, whose delight it was to spend their
time in the law-courts, and to live on the judicial fees, which Peri-
cles had established, and which Cleon was pledged to maintain.
There are many points in which the Clouds and the Wasps swpple-
ment one another, and there is a unity of design between them,
which cannot be mistaken. A father and his son are the principal
characters in both. In the Wasps, the father Philocleon, who, as
his name denotes, is warmly attached to Cleon, has surrendered the
management of his affairs to his son Bdelycleon, indicated by his
name as loathing and detesting that demagogue. The son regrets
his father’s perverse fondness for judicial business, and weans him
from it, partly by establishing a law-court at home, in which a dog
is tried for stealing a cheese, with all the circumstances of a regular
process in the dicasterion, and partly by leading him to indulge in
a life of sensual enjoyment. And as Strepsiades in the Clouds has
yeason to regret the sophistical training, which he procures for his
dissipated son, so Bdelycleon in the Wasps repents of the conse-
quences of the curative treatment to which he had subjected his
father. An eminent modern scholar has pronounced the Wasps
one of the most perfect of the plays of Aristophanes!, and the dra-
matic merits of the piece must have been of great intrinsic value,
for Racine was able to reproduce it with eminent success as a
French Comedy adapted to the usages of his own time?.

In the Peace, which was produced in 419 B.c., the poet returns
to the subject of the Acharnians, and insists strongly upon the
advantages which might be expected from a reconciliation of the
belligerents. The difference, however, between the two plays is
very considerable, not only in dramatic merit, but in the nature of
the wish for peace which they severally represent. The Achar-
nians has a strongly conceived dramatic unity, and a great variety
of comic incidents, and it represents the wish for peace as not only
limited to Athens, but limited also to an individual Athenian, to
whom the chorus of his own countrymen is violently opposed. The
Peace has really only one incident—the journey to heaven of Try-
eeus, a new sort of Bellerophon, mounted on a new sort of Pegasus,
in the shape of a dung-beetle ; and the wish for peace is represented
as common to all the Greek cities, whose countrymen join in the

1 C. O. Miiller, Zist. of Lit. of Gr. 11. p. 38, new ed.
2 Les Plaideurs, acted in 1668.

ARISTOPHANES. 187

chorus, and assist the hero in pulling Peace from the pit into which
she had been thrown by the Demon of War. After this rescue is
accomplished, the rest of the play is merely a series of cheerful
sketches, which were doubtless very entertaining to the spectators,
but do not afford much gratification to the modern reader, or furnish
the best specimen of the genius of Aristophanes.

In the year 414 B.c., Aristophanes produced two Comedies;
the Amphiaraus, which appeared at the Lenza, under the name of
Philonides; and the Birds, which came out at the great Dionysia,
under the name of Callistratus. The objects of these two plays
appear to have been the same. ‘The former was named after one of
the seven chiefs who led the Argive army against Thebes, and was
always foretelling the misfortunes which attended that expedition.
In this he corresponded to Nicias, who in the same manner foretold
the disastrous termination of the expedition which had sailed’ for
Syracuse the year before; and Aristophanes no doubt took this oppor-
tunity of warning his countrymen against the dangers into which
- their compliance with the wishes of Alcibiades would lead them?.
The Birds, which is certainly one of the most wonderful compo-
sitions in any language, was designed, we think, in conjunction
with the Amphiaraus, to parody and ridicule the Euripidean Tri-
logy, which came out the year before?. The Athenians are repre-
sented as a set of gaping foolish birds, persuaded by the extrava-
gant promises of a couple of designing adventurers to set up a city
in the clouds, and to declare war against the gods. In this carica-
ture we easily recognize a ridicule of the extravagant schemes of
universal rule which Alcibiades had formed, and which might well
be called castle-building in the air; and the termination of the play,
in which the chief adventurer is represented as making a supper off
his subjects, points clearly to what the Athenians had to expect
from the success of an ambitious plan, conceived by an uncompro-
mising aspirant after sovran power. According to Siivern’s inge-
nious explanation of the play, the names of the two heroes of the
piece, Peistheterus and Euelpides, whom we have elsewhere angli-
eized as Messrs. Agitator and Hopegood, point at once to the ob-
jects of this satirical delineation. ‘The former is a combination of
the two great moving causes of the expedition to Syracuse, Gor-

1 Siivern’s Essay on the Birds, p. 77, Engl. Tr.
2 See above, p. 147.

188 ARISTOPHANES.

gias, and Alcibiades!: the age of Master Agitator, his eloquence,
his being a stranger, and his sophistical harangues, may remind
us of Gorgias, and Callistratus may have worn a mask which was
a portrait of the Leontine ambassador ; at the same time, the promi-
nent part which Alcibiades took in the affair, and the notorious fact
that he was the head of an extensive club (érarpia) at Athens, would
point to him as also represented by Peistheterus?; and Euelpides
may have personified those confident citizens, who, full of hope for
the future (evéAmides*), willingly undertook the expedition‘.

This allegorical interpretation of the Comedy will hardly bear
the test of a critical examination®; but there can be little doubt
that it contains a great deal of truth, and the general reference of
the Dirds to the unfortunate Sicilian expedition may be regarded
as more or less an admitted fact.

In the Comedies, which have been considered up to this point,
the genius of Aristophanes appears under all the advantages which
it was certain to derive from the support of a vigorous democracy,
and from the unimpaired opulence and prosperity of Athens. But
the Sicilian expedition, which the Birds had taken for its theme,
came to a disastrous issue in B.¢. 413, and speedily produced its
effect both on the democratic government and on the political
power of the great Attic republic. Here we commence the second
period in the literary history of Aristophanes, when his poetical
powers were unimpaired, but when he had neither the same ma-
terials to work upon, nor the same external support, on which he
could rely. In this period he exhibited three plays, the Lysistrata,
the Thesmophoriazuse, and the Frogs. The first two were repre-
sented in B.c. 411, when the democracy had been obliged to accept
certain modifications in the form of mwpoSovdro1, and a council of
400. The third play of this period was acted in B.c. 405, in the
interval between the battles of Arginuse and A%gos-Potami.

The Lysistrata, which appeared in the name of Callistratus, is a
coarse and laughable recommendation of peace. The women of the

1 Siivern, pp. 31 fol. Engl. Tr.

2 Thucyd. vi. 13: comp. Gdller’s notes upon I. 82; vil. 54; and Arnold's
Thucyd. Vol. m1. p. 414. *s

3 Thucyd. vi. 24: evéArides bvTEs TwOjcEr Oat.

4 In addition to Siivern’s Essay, we must refer the curious reader to Droysen’s
Essay on the Birds, in the Rhein. Mus. for 1835, pp. 161. fol.

5 The theory of Siivern is combated by Mr W. G. Clark, now Public Orator at
Cambridge, in a very able paper which appeared in the Journal of Philology, Vol. 1.
pp. I—20.

ARISTOPHANES. 189

belligerent nations, worn out by the miseries of the protracted war-
fare, combine against the men, seize the acropolis of Athens, and
starve the-nobler sex into mutual reconciliation by cutting them off
from domestic life and connubial felicity. The play is full of
talent, and is replete with wit and humour. But its grossness is
offensive. The political ingredient is greatly diminished in extent
and importance. And the parabasis; or direct appeal to the audi-
ence, is for the first time omitted.

If the men of Athens had any reason to be offended by the pro-
minent part which the Lysistrata had assigned to their help-mates,
they were avenged in the Thesmophoriazuse, which appeared in the
same year. This play, which begins with a satirical caricature of
the effeminate Agathon and the woman-hater Euripides, and exhibits
throughout an extravagant humour worthy of the best Comedies of
the first period, is mainly occupied with an exposure of the moral
corruption and depravity of the Athenian women. ‘The chorus has
very little to do, and there is no parabasis. Politics are almost ex-
cluded, and with the exception of the ridicule thrown on Euripides
and Agathon, there is no personal satire. There was a second ver-
sion of the Thesmophoriazuse (Oecpopopiafoveat Sevtepar), which
appears from the fragments to have had much the same subject as
the extant play.

The Frogs was exhibited at the Lenza in B.c. 405, under the
name of Philonides, and won the first prize from the Muses of
Phrynichus, and the Cleophon of Plato. The leading object of this
admirable play is dramatic criticism, but the political element is by
no means excluded. The demagogue Cleophon, who gave his
name to the rival Comedy of Plato, and who was then in great
power at Athens, is directly and violently attacked’; the play has
a parabasis, in which the poet recommends his audience to make
peace with the discarded faction of the Four Hundred? ; and he even
goes so far as to hint the propriety of their recalling Alcibiades,
and submitting to his capricious genius*. The plot of the Comedy
is very striking. Dionysus, the god of the Athenian drama, being

1 vv. 679—685, 1504, 532.

2 689: kel Tis Huapte charels Te Ppwvlxov madalcpacw
éyyevérOar pnul xpivae Tots d\icOotcw Tére
airlay éxOetor Ndoar Tas mpbTEpoy amaprias.

oC RAGT: pdora pev Aéovra uy *v wore Tpépew,
jv 8 éxtpépy tis, Tots tpdmos Uanperety.

190 ARISTOPHANES.

much vexed by the dearth of good tragic poets since the death of
Sophocles and Euripides, is resolved to go down to Hades and
bring up one of the great departed, if possible Euripides, for whom,
as a representative of the popular taste, he professes a warm admi-
ration. Accordingly he equips himself for the adventure in the
costume of Hercules, and, after a brief interview with his heroie
brother, he and his servant Xanthias proceed on their journey to
the other world; the god has to take an oar in Charon’s boat, while
the slave runs round the Stygian pool and meets him on the other
side. The chorus, which had performed the croaking of the in-
visible Frogs during the short voyage, appears as a band of happy
souls duly initiated into sacred mysteries. After many ludicrous
and entertaining incidents, Bacchus and his attendant are admitted
into the halls of Pluto, and the God of the drama is appointed judge
in the contest, which has arisen between A‘schylus, the occupant
of the tragic throne in the lower world, and Euripides, who, as a
new-comer, had laid claim to it, although the good-natured Sopho-
cles had accepted the existing state of things. The God of the
drama makes this contest work into his own scheme for resusci-
tating one of the great tragedians, and he promises to take back
with him to Athens whichever of the two competitors shall gain
the victory. The unfavourable opinion, which Aristophanes every-
where expresses respecting the dramatic merits of Euripides, could
not have left his audience in any doubt as to the results of a com-
parison, which he undertook to make, between the great founder of
Greek Tragedy, and the rhetorical poet, who had so entirely altered
its character. Accordingly, Auschylus is carried back to the city,
where his Tragedies were still alive; for he is made to say, with
considerable humour, that his poetry had not died with him, and
that Euripides, who had brought his works down to Hades, was
better prepared for the literary contest’.

The exhibition of the Hogs was speedily followed by the battle
of Aigis-Potami, the fall of Athens, and the subversion of the de-
mocracy. For some years there was no possibility for any display
of the literary genius of such a poet as Aristophanes, and we do not

1 vy. 866 sqq.:

Al. €Bourdunv perv odk éplfew évOdde*

ok €& loov ydp éoTw ayov voy.
At. rl dal;

Al. 8re % rolnots obxl cuvrébynKké jot,
Tolrw d¢ cwrébynKer, wo’ ee Néyew.

ARISTOPHANES. 191

hear of him until some years after the return of Thrasybulus.
From the concluding period of his literary history, only two Come-
dies have come down to us complete. And both of these present to
us a very different state of things from that which had prevailed
during the Peloponnesian war. While democracy had revived with
some of its worst abuses, and while demagogues, like Agyrrhius,
were leading the populace into the most whimsical extravagances,
the educated class had learned to express with boldness the feelings
of disgust and contempt with which this wild republicanism had
inspired them. ‘This anti-democratic tendency was fostered by the
writings of some able men attached to the government of the thirty
tyrants, among whom the most eminent was Plato. Connected
with Critias by the ties of blood, and a near relation of the Char-
mides, who fell fighting against the party of Thrasybulus, he had
but little sympathy with the restored democracy at Athens; and
when his teacher Socrates had been put to death in B.c. 399, after
a prosecution instituted by men connected with the popular party,
Plato retired to Megara, and did not return to Athens till after
some four years spent in foreign travel. The feelings of despair
with which he regarded all existing forms of government are re-
corded in an epistle written about this time!, and it has been fairly
argued? that he must have published soon afterwards at least the
first sketch of his Republic, in which his object is to maintain by
the elaborate picture of an ideal government the thesis laid down
in the epistle, namely, that the only remedy for the miseries of
mankind must be sought in the establishment of a truly philoso-
phical aristocracy. One of the most offensive features in Plato’s
ideal Republic is his proposal for a community of property and
wives, and the supposition that the original edition, containing the
first six books’, was given to the public soon after B.c. 395, is
strongly supported by the statement of the old grammarians‘, that
this work is ridiculed by Aristophanes in his Heclestazusee which
appeared in B.C. 392, and in which Plato is mentioned, as he is
also in the Plutus, by a diminutive of his original name Aristocles®,

1 Plato, Epist. vi. pp. 324 B, sqq., especially 326 A, B.

2 By Professor Thompson, See our History of the Literature of Greece, Vol. I.
pp: 211 sqq.

3 History of the Literature of Greece, U1. p. 245.

4 Diog. Laert. 11. 23; Herodian, apud Liym. M. p: 142 F.

5 Ecclesiaz. 646; Plutus, 313.

192 ARISTOPHANES.

In this Comedy the women assume the male attire, steal into the
assembly, and by a majority of votes carry a new constitution},
which realizes, in part at least, the Platonic Utopia; for there is to
be a community of goods and women, and with regard to the latter
the rights of the ugly are to be protected by special enactment.
The play has a good deal of the old Aristophanic energy, and its
indecency is as extravagant as its drollery and humour. It has the
literary characteristics as well as the phallic grossness of the oldest
Attic Comedy. But it is manifestly deficient in the outward appa-
ratus which had set out the Comedy in its best days. The chorus
is poorly equipped, and it has little to do in any respect which
would have required careful training. There is no parabasis; but
instead of this a mere plaudite is addressed to the audience before
the chorus go to supper?.

The Plutus, in its extant form, is the second edition of the
play, which appeared in B.c. 388. The first edition was performed
in B.c. 408. In the play, which has come down to us, we have
only here and there a reminiscence of what the Old Comedy
had been. The chorus is altogether insignificant. There is no poli-
tical satire, and the personal attacks are directed against individuals
capriciously selected. ‘The plot is the development of a very sim-
ple and perfectly general truth of allegorical morality—that if the
god of riches were not blind, he would have bestowed his favours
with more discrimination. In this play Plutus falls into the hands
of Chremylus, a poor but most worthy citizen, who contrives to
restore the blind god to the use of his eyes. The natural conse-
quences follow. The good become rich, and the bad are reduced
to poverty. There is a slight dash of the old Aristophanic humour
in the successive pictures of these alterations in the condition of the
different classes of men. But on the whole the play exhibits many
symptoms not only of the change, which had come over the whole
spirit of Greek comic poetry, but also of the decay of the poet’s

1 Tt is intimated, with a good deal of point, that this transference of the govern-
ment to the women was the only expedient which had not been tried among the many
changes of constitution at Athens (v. 456):

édéxec yap Toro pdvoy év TH bre
obra yeyevngOa.

2 vv. 1154 sqq.: outxpdv 5’ vrobécPar Tots Kpiratot Bovomat’

Tots copots ev TaY copay pmeuvnwevous Kplveww ewe
Tois yeh@ou 5 Hdéws dia Tov yéXwv Kplvew éué,
K.T.A.

ARISTOPHANES. 193

vigour and vivacity. The Plutus is not yet a play of the Middle
Comedy, but it has lost all the characteristic features of the ancient
comic drama of Athens.

The last two Comedies which Aristophanes wrote were called
Molosicon and Cocalus; they were brought out about the time of
the peace of Antalcidas, by Araros, one of the sons of the poet, who
had been his principal actor at the representation of the second
edition of the Plutus. They both belonged to the second variety
of Comedy; namely, the Comedy of Criticism. The olosicon was
a parody and criticism of the #olus of Kuripides!. The Cocalus
was, perhaps, a similar criticism of a Tragedy or Epic Poem, the
hero of which was Cocalus, the fabulous king of Sicily, who slew
Minos?; it was so near an approach to the third variety of Comedy,
that Philemon was able to bring it again on the stage with very
few alterations’.

It is altogether unknown in what year Aristophanes died; it is
probable, however, that he did not long survive the commencement
of the 100th Olympiad, 380 B.c.t He left three sons, Philippus,
Ayraros, and Nicostratus, who were all poets of the Middle Comedy,
but do not appear to have inherited any considerable portion of
their father’s wonderful abilities. Their mother was not a very
estimable woman; at all events, the poet is said to have declared,
in one of his Comedies, that he was ashamed of her and his two
foolish sons; meaning, we are told, the two first-mentioned®,

The number of Comedies brought out by Aristophanes is not
known with certainty: the reader will see in the note a list of forty-
four names of Comedies attributed to him®,

1 See Grauert, in the Jthein. Mus. for 1828, pp. 50 fol. The name Alodoslkwr is a
compound (like ‘Hpax\eotavOlas, &c.) of the name of Euripides’s tragic hero, and
Sicon, a celebrated cook. Grauert, p..60. And for this reason the whole Comedy
was full of cookery terms. Grauert, pp. 499 fol.

2 Grauert, p. 507.

3 Clemens Alex. Strom. vi, p. 628: rév wévror K&xadov tov monbévera ’Apapére 7B
’"Aptarodpavous viet, Pidjpwy 6 KwpuKds bTaddEas ev ‘LroBortualw éexwpddnoer.

4 Ranke, p. excix.

5 Vit. Anonym. p. xvii: ('Apusropdvys) weridXake Tov Blov matdas Karadurdw Tpels,
Pitirrov omwvupov TE wdwry kal Nixdctparov kai ’Apapédra.—rwes 5 5’o Paci, Pi\ur-
mov Kal Apapéra, dy kat wirds éuvjodn’

Tiv yuvatca bé
aicxivoua TH T ov dpovodyTe madliw*
isws avrovs Néywv.

§ 1. Aaradjjs. 11. BaBuvdXdvior. U1. ’"Ayapy®s. Iv. ‘Iams. v. Nepédac mpdrepac.
VI. Hpodywv. vil. Lphxes. v1. Hlpywyn mporépa. x. “Audutpaos. X. “Opudes.
XI. Avowotpdty. XII. Oecuopopidfovoa mpbrepar, XIII. I\odros mpérepos. XIV. Ba-

De Tey 13

194 ARISTOPHANES.

In the very brief sketch which we have given of the general
objects of Aristophanes’ Comedies, we have confined ourselves to
their external and political references. It must not, however, be
supposed, because Aristophanes was a Pantagruelist, a fabricator of
allegorical caricatures, giving vent at times to the wildest buf-
foonery, and setting no bounds to the coarseness and plain-spoken-
ness of his words, that his writings contain nothing but a political
gergo; on the contrary, we find here and there bursts of lyric
poetry, which would have done honour to the sublimest of his
Tragical contemporaries. The fact is, that Aristophanes was not
merely a wit and a satirist; he had within himself all the ingre-
dients which are necessary to form a great poet; the nicest discri-
mination of harmony, a fervid and active imagination drawing upon
the stores of an ever-creating fancy, and a true and enlarged per-
ception of ideal beauty. This was so notorious even in his own
time, that Plato, who had little reason to speak favourably of him,
declared that the Graces, having sought a temple to dwell in, found
it in the bosom of Aristophanes!, and it is very likely m conse-
quence of Plato’s belief in the real poetical power of Aristophanes,
that he makes Socrates convince him in the Banquet, that the real
artists of Tragedy and Comedy are one and the same®. Of the pri-
vate character of Aristophanes we know little, save that he was,
like all other Athenians, fond of pleasure; and it is intimated by
Plato’ that he was not distinguished by his abstinence and sobriety.
That coarseness of language was in those times no proof of moral
depravity, has already been sufficiently shown by a modern admirer
of Aristophanes‘: the fault was not in the man, but in the manners
of the age in which he lived, and to blame the Comedian for it, is

Tpaxot. XV. ’ExkAnoidgfovra. Xvi. Idodros devrepos. Xvit. Alodoolkwy mpébrepos.
Xv. Alodoolkwy Setrepos. XIX. Kéxados. These are arranged in the supposed
order of their appearance, The remaining names are alphabetically arranged. 1. ’Avd-
yupos. I. Tewpyot. it. Tapas. iv. Vypurddns. v. Aaldados. vi. Aavaides. VII.
Apdywara 3 Kévravpos. vitt. Apdwata 7 NiloBos. 1X. Elpjvn devrépa, X. “Hpwes.
XI. Oeopopopidvovea Sevtrepar. XII. Ajprat. XII. Navayéds, or Als Navayds. XIV.
Nepérar Sevrepar. Xv. Nijoou. XVI. ‘Odxddes. XvII. Iedapyol. xvul. Tolqors.
XIX. Ilo\vevdos. XX. Deyvas karadauBdvovoa. XX. Taynuoral. Xxit. Tedpioojs.
XXII. Tpipddys. XXIV. Polmaca. XXV. ‘Qpar. See Dindorf’s Collection of the
Fragments. Bergk, p. got. On the Ijpas, see Siivern’s essay on that play; and on
the Tpepddns, Siivern, tiber die Wolken, pp. 62—65.

1 Apud Thom. Mag. :

Al xdpires réwevds Te NaBety Brep odxl wecetra
Znrotca, Yuxnv edpov ’Aptoropdvous.
2 Sympos. p. 223 D. 3 For instance, see Symp. 176 B.
4 Porson’s Review of Brunck’s Aristophanes, Mus. Criticum, 1. pp. 114, 115.

ARISTOPHANES. 195

to give a very evident proof of that unwillingness to shake off
modern associations which we have already deprecated’. he ob-
ject of Aristophanes was one most worthy of a wise and good man;
it was to cry down the pernicious quackery which was forcing its
way into Athens, and polluting, or drying up, the springs of public
and private virtue; which had turned religion into impudent hypo-
erisy, and sobriety of mind into the folly of word-wisdom; and
which was the cause alike of the corruption of Tragedy, and of the
downfal of the state. He is not to be blamed for his method of
opposing these evils: it was the only course open to him; the dema-
gogues had introduced the comus into the city, and he turned it
against them, till it repented them that they had ever used such an
instrument. So far, then, from charging Aristophanes with immo-
rality, we would repeat, in the words which a great and a good man
of our own days used when speaking of his antitype Rabelais, that
the morality of his works is of the most refined and exalted kind,
however little worthy of praise their manners may be®, and, on the
whole, we would fearlessly recommend any student, who is not so
imbued with the lisping and drivelling mawkishness of the present
day as to shudder at the ingredients with which the necessities of
the time have forced the great Comedian to dress up his golden
truths, to peruse and re-peruse Aristophanes, if he would know
either the full force of the Attic dialect, or the state of men and
manners at Athens, in the most glorious days of her history’.

1 Above, pp. 7, 8.
* Coleridge’s Table Talk, 1. p. 178.

* The admiration which all true scholars have felt and expressed for Aristophanes,
will survive the attacks of certain modern detractors. Among these, Hartung, in his
Euripides restitutus, has endeavoured to exalt that tragedian at the expense of the
great author of the Frogs, whom he assails in the most abusive language (I. 380, 476).
The disapprobation of the poetry and politics of Euripides, which Aristophanes se
strongly avowed, is not incompatible with the imitation of his style, which he frankly
admitted in his Dxqvas karadhauBdvouvca (above, p. 169). And with regard to another
charge, it is quite impossible, with the fragmentary evidence before us, to strike the
balance of mutual obligation between Eupolis and Aristophanes, See Bernhardy,
Grundriss, I. p. 973.

CHAPTER IL

SECTION IIL.

THE COMEDIANS WHO SUCCEEDED ARISTOPHANES.

I coltivatori della commedia seguirono Vesempio di questi primi, come essi aveano pur
sequito quello degli antichi, senza che né gli uni né gli altri, impediti da una servile
imitazione, avessero soffocato il proprio genio o negletto i costumt del paese e del tempo
loro. SALFI,

LTHOUGH, as we have already remarked!, the writers of the
Old and Middle Comedy are not easily distinguished, and
although we have been obliged to indicate several of the old come-
dians as having tended rather to the middle form of Comedy,
writers on the subject have always attempted a distinct classifica-
tion of the comedians rather than of their plays; and perhaps it
may be said with truth that those who never wrote in the flourish-
ing period of Athenian democracy, and whose earliest plays exhibit
the characteristics of the final efforts of Aristophanes, may be re-
garded as belonging distinctively to the Middle Comedy. .
According to this distinction, the Middle Comedy is represented
by a list of thirty-seven writers,—nearly as many as those of the
Old Comedy,—and by more than double the number of the plays
attributed to the former school—Eubulus, Antiphanes, and Alexis
having among them contributed more than 600 plays to the cata-
logue! The following are the names of the Middle Comedians:

1. ANTIPHANES. 2. Eusutus. 3. ANAXANDRIDES. 4. ALEXIS.
5. Araros, son of Aristophanes. 6. Puixippus, brother of the
1 On these authors and their works, see Meineke, Qucstiones Scenic Spec. U1.

and his Historia Critica, pp. 303 sqq. and 445 sqq.; also Miiller, Hist. Lit, Gr. 11.
ch, xxix.

THE COMEDIANS WHO SUCCEEDED ARISTOPHANES. 197

preceding. 7 Nicostratus. 8. PHILeT#rus. 9. AMPHIS.
10. Anaxitas. 11. Epnippus. 12. Cratinus, the younger.
13. Epicenres. 14. AristopHon. 15. OpHELION. 16. ANTI-
potus. 17. Dioporus of Sinope. 18. Dionysius, a countryman
of the preceding. 19. Hentocuus. 20. Eritpnus. 21. Simy vs.
22. SopHitus. 23. SoTapes. 24. Puruiscus. 25. TIMOTHEUS.
26. THEOPHILUS. 27. AUGEAS. 28. Dromon. 29. EUBULIDES,
the philosopher. 30. HeRAcCLEIDES. 31. CALLICRATES. 32. STRA-
TON. 33. EpicraTes, of Ambracia. 34, Ax1onicus. 35. MNEsI-
MACHUS. 36. TIMOCLES. 37. XENARCHUS.

The anonymous grammarian, who is our oldest authority for
the history of the Greek comic stage, says that there were
sixty-four writers of New Comedy!. But we have only the follow-
ing twenty-seven names which we can with certainty assign to
this age of the drama. They are given in alphabetical order:
Awnaxtppus, APOLLODORUS of Carystus, APoLLopoRusS of Gela,
ArcHEDICcUS, BATHO, Crito, DAMOxENUs, DEMETRIUS, DIPHILUS,
Epinicus, Eupoxus, Evpuron, Heaesippus, Hipparcuus, Lyn-
ceus, Macnon, MrenANDER, PHILEMON and his son, PHILIPPIDEs,
Pua@nicipes, PosErpippus, SostpATER, Sosrprus, STEPHANUS,
‘THEOGNETUS.

Other names are occasionally mentioned, though it cannot be
determined whether they belonged to the Middle Comedy or not.
Thus we have Demoputiuus, from whom Plautus derived some of
his plots; CLEARcHUS and CrotyLus, to each of whom three
Comedies are assigned; CHARICLEIDES, CALLIPPUS, DrEMONICUS,
Dexicrates, EvVANGELUS, LAon, Menecrates, NAUSICRATES, who
has two comedies assigned to him, Nicon, Nicotaus, Nicomacuus,
PHILOSTEPHANUS, PoLiocHus, SosicRaTEs, two of whose plays are
mentioned, THUGENIDES, TirmMosTRATUS, to whom four comedies
are attributed, and XENON.

In these lists of writers of the Middle and New Comedy there
are only a few who deserve or require any special notice.

Of the authors of the Middle Comedy we may mention the
following :

It appears from the words of Suidas?, that Eusutus, the son
of Euphranor, who was an Athenian, and flourished about the year

1 wrepl kwpwdlas, XXX, 20, p. 537, Meineke.

2 EvBovkos—édldate Spduara pd’ Av be Kara pa’ ddummidda, peOdpios THs méons
Kwumdlas Kal THs véas.

198 THE COMEDIANS

375 B.C., stood on the debateable ground between the middle
and new Comedy, and to judge from the fragments in Athenzus,
who quotes more than fifty of his comedies by name, he must have
written plays of both sorts. He composed in the whole 104
comedies.

ANTIPHANES was born in Rhodes in B.c. 404, began to exhibit
about B.¢. 883, and died in Chios in B.c. 330. He composed 260
or 280 Comedies, and tlre titles of 130 of these have come down to
us. It appears from these names and from the numerous frag-
ments, that the Comedies of Antiphanes were generally of the
critical kind, but sometimes approximated to the Comedy of Man-
ners},

ANAXANDRIDES, of Camirus in Rhodes, flourished about the
year 376 B.c.2 He wrote sixty-five Comedies. To judge from the
twenty-eight titles which have come down to us, we should infer
that they were all of the second class; as, however, we are told
that he introduced intrigues and love-affairs on the stage, we must
presume that, like his countryman Antiphanes, he made an advance
towards the third class of Comedy. Chameleon tells us, that he
was a tall handsome man, and fond of fine dresses; he gives as a
proof of his want of temper, that he used to destroy, or sell for
waste paper, all his unsuccessful comedies. He lived to a good
old age.

Atexis, of Thurium, wrote 245 Comedies; the titles of 113 of
them are known to us, The Parasite, one of his Comedies, seems
from the name to belong to the New Comedy. He flourished from
the year 356 to the year 306, and was more than one hundred years
old when he died*, We know nothing of him, except that he was
an epicure®, and the uncle and instructor of Menander®,

TrmocLes, to whom twenty-seven Comedies are attributed, was
a writer of very considerable vigour, and occasionally recurred to the
political invective of the older Comedy. Demosthenes was some-

1 On Antiphanes and his fragments, see Clinton, Phil. Mus. 1. pp. 558 fol.

2 Parian Marble, No. 71, and Suidas. 3 Atheneus, IX. p. 374 A.

4 Clinton, 7, H. 1. p. 175. 5 Atheneus, VIII. p. 334 ©.
' Prolegom. Aristoph. p. xxx, and Suidas, where we must read matpws.

WHO SUCCEEDED ARISTOPHANES. 199

times the object of his attacks. He was still exhibiting in 324
B.C.!

Of the authors of the New Comedy it will be sufficient to
mention the following:

Puiurpripes, the son of Philocles of Athens, is one of the six
poets generally selected as specimens of the New Comedy?. He
flourished about the year 335 B.c., and wrote forty-five Comedies ;
of the twelve titles preserved, one at least, the Amphiaraus®, seems
to belong to the Middle or Old Comedy. The intimacy which
existed between him and Lysimachus was of great service to
Athens‘. As that prince did not assume the title of king till 306
B.C., and as it appears from the words of Plutarch®, that Lysi-
machus was king at the time of his acquaintance with Philippides,
the poet must have lived after that year; besides we know that he
ridiculed the honours paid by the Athenians to Demetrius, in 301
B.C.° There is, therefore, every reason to believe the statement of
Aulus Gellius, that he lived to a very advanced age’, though per-
haps the cause assigned for his death, excessive joy on account of
an unexpected victory, is, like the similar story respecting Sopho-
cles, a mere invention.

PHILEMON was, according to Strabo$, a native of Soli, though
Suidas makes him a Syracusan, probably because he resided some
time in Sicily. He began to exhibit about the year 330 B.c., and
died at the age of ninety-seven, some time in the reign of Antigonus
the second®. According to Diodorus", he lived ninety-nine years,
and wrote ninety-seven Comedies. Various accounts are given of
the manner of his death". Lucian tells us, he died in a paroxysm

1 See the passages in Clinton, F. H. 1. p. 161.

2 Prol. Aristoph. p. xxx: déwodoydraroe PArAjuwy, Mévavdpos, Alpiros, Prcarrldys,
Tloceidimmos, ’Amo\bdwpos.

3 Quoted by Athenzeus, II. p. go. * Plutarch, Demetr. c. XII.

5 Piodpovoupévov 6é more Tod Avotudxouv mpds adbrov Kal elardvros, ‘**Q Piderrldn,

Tlvos co. TGv Eudv perada;” ‘ Mévov,” py, ‘6S Bactired, wh TOv aroppyrwr.”

6 Clinton, /. HW. W. p. 177.

7 W. 15: Philippides comeediarum poéta haud ignobilis, etate jam editaé, cum in
certamine poétarum preter spem vicisset, inter illud gaudium repente mortuus est.

* xiv. yp, 071. ® Clinton, F, H. 11. p. 157.

2° Eclog. Lib, xxut. p. 318.

11 Plutarch, An seni, de. p. 785; Lucian, Macrob. c. xxv. (Vol. Vit. p. 123,
Lehm.); Apuleius, Florid. xvi. Suidas says he was ninety-four when he died, and
gives nearly the same description of his death as Lucian.

200 THE COMEDIANS

of laughter at seeing an ass devouring some figs intended for his
own eating. The names of fifty-three of his Comedies have come
down to us!. Philemon was considered as superior to Menander?;
and Quintilian, while he denies the correctness of this judgment’,
is nevertheless willing to allow Philemon the second place. We
may see a favourable specimen of his construction of plots, in the
Frinummus of Plautus, which is a translation from his Onvaupos*.
His plays, like those of Menander, contained many imitations of
Euripides; and he was so ardent an admirer of that poet, that he
declared he would have hanged himself for the prospect of meeting
Euripides in the other world, if he could have convinced himself
that the departed spirits were really capable of recognizing one
another®.

Menanper, the son of Diopeithes, the well-known general,
and Hegesistrata®, and the nephew of the comedian Alexis’, was
born at Athens in B.c. 3428, while his father was absent on the
Hellespont station®. He spent his youth in the house of his unele,
and received from him and from Theophrastus instructions in
poetry and philosophy’: he may have derived from the latter, m
some measure, the knowledge of character for which he was so
eminent. In 321 B.c. his first Comedy came out!!; it was called
"Opy7'?. He wrote in the whole 105" or 108™ Comedies, and gained

1 Fabricius, 1. p. 476, Harles. 2 Aul. Gell. xvi. 4; Quintil. m1. 7, 18.

3 x. 1, 72: Philemon, qui ut pravis sui temporis judiciis Menandro sepe pre-
coe ? a
latus est, ita consensu tamen omnium meruit credi secundus.

4 Prol. Trinummi, 18:
Huic nomen Greece est Thesauro fabule ;

Philemo scripsit; Plautus vortit barbare,
Nomen Trinummo fecit.

5 Fragm. 40 A, p. 48, Meineke; Anthol. Pal, Vol. 1. p. 168:
Ei rats ad\nOelacow ol reOvnkdres
AlcOnow elxov, dvipes, bs pacly Twes,
"Amnyidunv dv ws ldety Evperldny.
6 Suidas, Mévavépos. 7 Suidas, “AXekts.
8 Clinton, F. H. 1. p. 143.
® Comp. Ulpian and Demosth. p. 54, 3, with Dionys. Dinarch. p. 666.
10 Proleg. Aristoph. p. xxx; Diogen. Laért. v. 36.
11 Proleg. Aristoph. p. xxx. 12 Euseb. ad Olyn. 114, 4.
13 Apollod. ap. Aul. Gell. xvr. 4:
Kyguoreds dv éx AtorelOeos rarpés,

Ilpds rotowy éxarov wévre ypdwas Spduara
"Efé\ure, mevryjxovra Kal dvoty éray.

14 Suidas, yéypade kwudlas pr’.

WHO SUCCEEDED ARISTOPHANES. 201

the prize eight times: 115 titles of Comedies ascribed to him have
come down to us; it is not certain, however, that all these are
correctly attributed to him’. He died at Athens in the year 291
B.C.2_ According to one account, he was drowned while bathing in
the harbour of the Peireus*. It appears from the encomiums
which are heaped upon him‘, that he was by far the best writer
of the Comedy of Manners among the Greeks. We have a few
specimens of the ingenuity of his plots in some of the plays of
Terence, whom Julius Cesar used to call a demi-Menander®. He
was an imitator of Kuripides®, and we may infer from what Quinti-
lian says of him’, that his Comedies differed from the Tragi-comedies
of that poet only in the absence of mythical subjects and a chorus.
Like Euripides, he was a good rhetorician, and Quintilian is in-
clined to attribute to him some orations published in the name of
Charisius*. The every-day life of his countrymen, and manners
and characters of ordinary occurrence, were the objects of his imi-
tation®. His plots, though skilfully contrived, are somewhat mono-
tonous; there are few of his Comedies which do not bring on the
stage a harsh father, a profligate son, and a roguish slave’. In his

1 Fabricius, 11. pp. 460, 468, Harles.
2 Clinton, F. H. 11. p. 481.

8 A line in the Jbis attributed to Ovid, is supposed by some to allude to this
(591):
Comicus ut mediis periit dum nabat in undis.

* Quintil. x. 1, 69; Plutarch, Tom. 1x. pp. 387 sqq. Reiske; and Dio Chrysost.
XVIII. p. 255.

5 Donatus, Vit. Terentiz.

6 See the passages compared by Meineke, Fragm. Com. Gr. Vol. Iv. pp. 705 foll.
It is interesting to know that it is still doubtful whether the Senarius quoted by St.
Paul in 1 Corinth. xv. 33, was not borrowed by Menander, in his Thais, from some
lost play of Euripides. It is quoted in Latin by Tertullian, ad Uxor, 1. 8.
Se FR aaa Ora 'S, nes
® Aristoph. Byz. ap. Schol. Hermogenis, p. 38:
*Q Méavipe xal Bie,
Tlérepos tip’ buav mérepov éviunoaro;
Manilius, v. 472:
Ardentes juvenes, raptasque in amore puellas,
Elusosque senes, agilesque per omnia servos,
Quis in cuncta suam produxit secula vitam
Doctor in urbe sua lingue sub flore Menander,
Qui vite ostendit vitam, chartisque sacravit.

av Dum fallax servus, durus pater, improba lena,

Vivent, dum meretrix blanda, Menandrus erit.
Ovid, 1. Amorum, xv. 18.

202 THE COMEDIANS

person Menander was foppish and effeminate’. He wrote several
prose works’, A statue was erected to his memory in the theatre
at Athens®.

The date of the birth of Dipntius is unknown; it is stated
that he exhibited at the same time with Menander‘. He was
born at Sinope®, and died at Smyrna. Of one hundred Comedies,
which he is said to have written, the names of forty-eight are pre-
served®, The Casina of Plautus is borrowed from his Ky’npod-
pevor’, and the Ludens from some other play*; and Terence tells
us, that he introduced into the Adelphi a literal translation of
part of the LvvaroOvyckovtes of Diphilus’. It appears from the
Casina and Rudens and from a fragment of Machon”, that he

1 In quis Menander, nobilis comeediis,

Unguento delibutus, vestitu afiluens,

Veniebat gressu delicato et languido.

Quisnam cinzdus ille in conspectu meo

Audet venire? Responderunt proximi:

Hic est Menander scriptor.

Pheedrus, V. I. 9.

Prorsus si quis Menandrico fluxu delicatam vestem humi protrahat. Tertullian,
c. Iv. de Pallio.

2 Suidas, Mévavipos. 3 Pausan. I. 21, I.

4 Aigitos Lwwre's, kara Tov abrdv xpdbvov édl5ake Mevdvipw, TeXeuTe 5¢ ev Duvpry,
Spduara dé avrov p’. Proleg. Arist. p. xxxi.

> Strabo, xu. p. 546.

6 Fabricius, 11. p. 438; Harles.

7 Clerumene vocatur hee comcedia
Greece; Latine Sortientes. Diphilus
Hane Greece scripsit, post id rursum denuo
Latine Plautus cum latranti nomine.
Prolog. Casine, 30—32.

§ Prolog. Rud. 32:

Primum dum huiec esse nomen urbi Diphilus
Cyrenas voluit.

9 Synapothnescontes Diphili comeedia ’st:

Eam Conmorientes Plautus fecit fabulam.

In Greeca adolescens est, qui lenoni eripit

Meretricem in prima fabula: eum Plautus locum

Reliquit integrum, eum hie locum sumpsit sibi

In Adelphos, verbum de verbo expressum extulit. .

Prol, Adelph. 6—11.
10 Athen. XIII. p. 580 A:
6 Alduros,

“yn thy ’A@nvay kal Oeods Wuxpby y’,” &pn,

““Tyadatv’, exes Tov NdKKoy Omodoyoupévws.”

8 elre, ‘trav cGy Spapatwv yap émimedGs

els alirov del rods mpoNdyous éuBdddomev.”

WHO SUCCEEDED ARISTOPHANES. 903

wrote prologues to his dramas, which were probably very like the
prologues of the Latin comedians, though they were, we think,
originally borrowed (like all the New Comedy) from the tragedies
of Euripides.

ApoLLoporvs, of Gela in Sicily", is also called a contemporary
of Menander. He is often confused with APOLLODORUS of Carystus
in Eubeea, whom Suidas calls an Athenian, probably because he
had the Athenian franchise, but who flourished between B.c. 300
and 260. For he is said to have been a contemporary of Macuon,
who was a Corinthian or Sicyonian by birth, who resided at
Alexandria, and gave instructions in Comedy to Aristophanes of
Byzantium, and whose Comedies obtained for him a place among
the Alexandrian poets immediately after those of the Pleiad?. Of
twenty-four Comedies, which are mentioned under the name of
Apollodorus, four are ascribed to the earlier poet, six to the latter,
and four to both. The remaining ten are quoted under the name
of Apollodorus without any ethnic distinction®. The later Apollo-
dorus was much the more distinguished writer of the two, and
there can be little doubt that it is he, and not the Geloan, who is
mentioned as one of the six chief poets of the New Comedy*. The
Phormio of Terence is a translation from his ’Emvdccafopevos, and
the Hecyra, which is said in the didascalia to have been taken
from Menander, was, according to a recently discovered fragment,
also borrowed from this poet’.

Postpirrus, the son of Cyniscus of Cassandreia, wrote thirty
Comedies; the titles of fifteen of these are known, and some of
them were Latinized like those of the three last mentioned poets®.
He began to exhibit in 289 B.c., two years after the death of Me-
nander’.

1 On the two comedians of this name see Clinton, F. H, m1. pp. 521, 2; Meineke,
Hist. Crit. Com. pp. 459 8qq-

2 Atheneus, p. 664 a (cf. vr. p. 241 F): qv 8 dyabds romrhs el tis GAXos TO
pera rods érrd. The author of the article on Apollodorus of Carystus, in Smith’s
Dictionary of Biography, applies to Apollodorus what Athenzeus says of Machon.

3 Clinton’s F. H. 111. pp. 521, 2. 4 Meineke, p. 462.

5 Mai, Fragm. Plaut. et Terent. p. 38: ‘‘ Fabula ejus [Terentii] exstant quatuor
e Menandro translata, Andria, Eunuchus, Adelphe et Heautontimorumenos; duz ex
Apollodoro Caricio [sic] Hecyra et Phormio.”

6 Aul. Gell. 11. 23. * Suidas, Iocetéurmos.

204 THE COMEDIANS WHO SUCCEEDED ARISTOPHANES.

The Greek Comedy properly ends with Posidippus, but there
are some writers of a later date called comedians. RuinTrHoN, of
Tarentum, is called a comedian by Suidas, but his plays seem to
have been rather phlyacographies, or Tragi-comedies, and of those
he left thirty-eight. He flourished in the reign of the first
Ptolemy’. The titles of six of his plays are known?. SopareEr,
of Paphos, was a writer of the same kind; and also SorapEs, of
Crete, who flourished under Ptolemy Philadelphus, and wrote in
the Ionic dialect?, and in the so-called onic a méinore metre.
From the extravagant indecency of the Sotadean poems the name
has become a by-word of reproach‘.

1 Suidas: ‘PwOwy, Tapavrivos, kwyixds, dpxnyds THs Kadouuévyns ‘Thaporpaywolas 8
gore Prvaxoypadia. vids be Fv Kepauéws Kal yéyovey éxt tod mpwrou Iroeualov,
Apdpara dé abrod kwpiKxa TparyiKa 7.

2 Clinton, F. H. 11. p. 486. 3 Ibid. p. 500.
4 See History of Greek Literature, 1. p. 464.

495
490

Olympiad.

XVIII. I.
EXE. Ais
XL, 3.
XLVI. 3.

LIV. 3.

LVII. 4.
LIX, I.

LXI, 2.

pao ehere
EXIV. Je
LXV. 2.
aa sad

LXVII. 2.

LXVIII. 1.

LXX. [.

LXXI. 2.

LXXM. 3.

CHRONOLOGY

The Drama.

THE GREEK DRAMA.

Contemporary Persons and Events.

Archilochus.

Simonides of Amorgus.
Arion and Stesichorus fl.
Solon fl.

Susarion.

Theognis.
Thespis first exhibits.

Aischylus born.
Cherilus first exhibits.

Cratinus born.

Phrynichus first exhibits.

Institution of the Xopds avdpar.
Lasus of Hermione, the dithy-
rambie poet.

Epicharmus perfects Comedy.

schylus first exhibits, and con-
tends with Cherilus and Pra-
tinas.

Birth of Sophocles.

ischylus at Marathon.

Gyges of Lydia.

Pisander of Corinth.

Usurpation of Pisistratus, B.O.
560.—The accession of Cyrus,
B.C. 559.

Death of Phalaris.

Anacreon, Ibycus, Hipporax,—
Pythagoras.

Cambyses conquers Egypt.

Pindar born.

Expulsion of the Pisistratide,
B.0. 510—of the Yarguins,
B.C. 509.

Fieraclitus and Parmenides, the
philosophers. — Hecateeus, the
historian.

Birth of Anaxagoras.

Ionian war commences, and

Sardis is burnt.

Miletus taken, B.C. 494.

Miltiades.

CHRONOLOGY OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

456

454

435

434

Tlorvev’s, Hpounfeds Iluppépos. |

LXXVIII. I. | Sophocles gains his first tragic
prize. dischylus goes to Sicily.

LXXX. 3. | Hschyli "Opecreia. Aischylus

again retires to Sicily.

LXXXI. J. | Wschylus dies.

Euripides exhibits the Peliades.

Aristarchus, of Tegea, the trage-
dian, and Cratinus, the comic
poet, flourish.

est

LXXXII. 2. | Jon of Chios begins to exhibit.

—— 3. Crates exhibits.

LXXXII. 1.) Cratint ’Apxf\oxot.

Acheus Eretriensis, the tragedian.

—2
LXXXIV. 4. | Euripides gains the first tragic
| prize.

LXXXV. 1. Comedy prohibited by a public

decree.

|The prohibition of comedy re-
pealed.

|
Phrynichus, the comic poet, first
| exhibits.

LXXXVI. 2.

| Lysippus, the comic poet, is vic-

| is 3: =
torious,

Contemporary Persons and Events.

| Birth of Herodotus.

| Thermopyle, Salamis. — Leoni-
| das, Aristides, Themistocles.—
Pherecydes, the historian. —
Gelon of Syracuse.

| Hiero succeeds Gelon, B.C. 478.

| Stmonides gains the prize ’Avipay
Xopé.

Birth of Thucydides, B.c. 471.

| Socrates born.—Mycene destroy-
| ed by the Argives.—Death of
| Stimonides, B.C. 467.

Anaxagoras. Birth of Lysias.

Herodotus at Olympia.
|

| End of the Messenian and Egyp-

tian wars.— Empedocles and

Zeno.—Pericles.

Bacchylides, the lyric poet.—Ar-
chelaus, the philosopher.

Death of Cimon, B.C. 449.
Battle of Coronea.

| Herodotus and Lysias go with
the colonists to Thurium, B.¢.

443-

The Samian war, in which Sopho-
cles is colleague with Pericles.

Tsocrates born, B.C. 436.

Sea-fight between the Corinthians
| and Corcyreans.

/ Andocides, Meton, Aspasia.

CHRONOLOGY OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

207

432

43°
429
428
427

426

425

424

423

422

421

420

419
416

415

414

Olympiad.

LXXXVII. 2.

A
—— 4.,

LXXXVIII. I.

————— Ae

LXXXIX, [.

The Drama.

Luripidis Myseva, Pioxryr7ys, |
Aixrus, Oepioral.

Aristomenes, the comic poet.

Hermippus, the comic poet.

Eupolis exhibits.

Luripidis ‘lnrméXvtos.

Plato, the comic poet.

Aristophanis AaraXeits.

Aristophanis BaBudwyror.

Aristophanes first with the ’Axap-
vets: Cratinus second with the
Xemafouevoc: Lupolis third
with the Novynvia.

Aristophanes first with the ‘I7-
mets: Cratinus second with
the Ldrupa: Aristomenes third
with the ’Odopuppol.

Cratinus first with the Tlurivy:
Ameipsias second with the
Kéwos: Aristophanes third
with the NepédAat.

Aristophanis XpjKes et ai dev-
tepae Nepé\at. (Sed vide
supra.)

Cratinus dies.

Eupolidis Mapixas et KéXaxes.

Eupolidis Atrédukos et “Acrpd-
TEUTOL. .

Aristophanis Elpiyy.

Agathon gains the tragic prize.

Xenocles first; Euripides second

with the Tpwddes, ’AXéEavdpos,
Iladayu7ins, and Llcv@os.

Archippus, the comic poet, gains
the prize.

Aristophanis
Ajvaia),

"Audidpaos (els

Contemporary Persons and Events.

Attempt of the Thebans on Pla-
tea.

| Hippocrates.

Plague at Athens.
Siege of Platza.—Birth of Plato.

Anaxagoras dies.

Surrender of Platwea.—Gorgias
of Leontium.

Tanagra.

Cleon at Sphacteria.

Xenophon at Delium.—Amphi-
polis taken from Thucydides
by Brasidas.

The year’s truce with Lacede-
mon.—Alcibiades begins to act
in public affairs.

Brasidas and Cleon killed at
Amphipolis,

Truce for fifty years with Lace-
dzemon.

Treaty with the Argives.

Capture of Melos.

Expedition to Sicily.

208 CHRONOLOGY OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

B.C.| Olympiad. The Drama. Contemporary Persons and Events.
Ameipsias first with the Kwyuac-
tal: Aristophanes second with
the “Opydes: Phrynichus third
with the Movérpomros (els dorv).

413 XCI. 4. Hegemonis Tryavrouaxia, Destruction of the Athenian
army before Syracuse.

412 | xo. 1. | Luripidis ’Avépopedsa. Lesbos, Chios, and Erythre re-
volt.

4Ir SS) Aristophunis Avowsrpdrn et Oec- | The 400 at Athens.

Moopid fovea.
409 | ——4. | Sophocles first with the udo-
KTTNS.

4o8 | xcur.1, | Luripidis Opéorns.

406 | —— 3. | Huripides dies. Arginuse,— Dionysius becomes
master of Syracuse.—Philis-
tus, the Sicilian historian.

405 —— 4. | Death of Sophocles. Aigospotami.—Conon.

Aristophanis Bdrpaxo., first; The Thirty at Athens.

Phrynichi Motoa, second;
Platonis KXeoper, third.

404 | xclv. 1, | Antiphanes born. |

gor | —— 3. | Sophoclis Oi5trous émt Koddvy | Xenophon, with Cyrus.—Ctesias,
exhibited by the younger So- the historian.—Plato,
phocles ; who first represented
in his own name, B.C. 396.

392 | XcCVII. 1. Aristophanis ’Exxd\noud fovea, Agesilaus.

388 | xovur. 1. | 4 ristophanis Tdotros p’.

Be) ——— 9, Peace of Antalcidas.

386 | —— 3. | Theopompus, the last poet of the

Old Comedy.

383 | XcCIxX. 2. | Antiphanes begins to exhibit,

376 ol. I Lubulus, Avraros, and Anaxan-

drides, the comic poets, flou-
rished.

368 cut. 1. | Aphareus, the tragedian.

356 cvi. 1. | Alexis, the comic poet. Alexander born.—Expulsion of
Dionysius.—Death of Timo-
theus, the musician.

348 | ovi. 1. | Heraclides, the comic poet. Demosthenes against Midias.—

Philip and the Olynthian war,

CHRONOLOGY OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

209

321

307
304

2Q1
289

280
230

200

Olympiad.

OIX. 3.

OXI. I.

CXVIII, I.

OXIxX. I.

CXXII. 2.

_ OXXKV. I.

OXXXVII. 3.

CXLY, I.

D.T. G.

The Drama.
Birth of Menander.
Amphis, the comic poet, still
exhibits.
Philippides, the comedian.
Stephanus, the comic poet.

Philemon begins to exhibit.

Timocles still exhibits.

Menandri ’Opy%.

Diphilus.

Demetrius, the comic poet.

Archedippus, Philippides, and
Anaxippus, the comic poets,
flourish.

Death of Menander.

Posidippus begins to exhibit—
Rhinthon flourishes.

Sotades.
Macho, the comedian.
Apollodorus, the Carystian.

Contemporary Persons and Events.

Timoleon at Syracuse.—TJsocrates.
—Aristotle.

Philip assassinated.

Siege of Tyre.
Darius slain.

Alexander dies. — Demosthenes
dies, B.0, 322,

Epicurus.—A gathocles.

Demetrius Poliorcetes.

Arcesilaus.

War with Pyrrhus,

Plautus dies.

BOOK III.

EXHIBITION OF THE GREEK DRAMA.

CHAPTER I.

ON THE REPRESENTATION OF GREEK PLAYS IN
GENERAL.

Dass man auf das ganze Verhiiltniss der Orchestra zur Biihne keine vom heutigen
Theater entnommenen Vorstellungen iibertragen, und die alte Tragidie nicht
MODERNISIREN diirfe, ist ja wohl eine der ersten Regeln, die man bei der
Beurtheilung dieser Dinge zu beobachten hat.-—K. O. MUELLER.

[E the Greek plays themselves differed essentially from those of
our own times, they were even more dissimilar in respect of the
mode and circumstances of their representation. We have theatrical
exhibitions of some kind every evening throughout the greater part
of the year, and in capital cities many are going on at the same
time in different theatres. In Greece the dramatic performances
were carried on for a few days in the Spring; the theatre was large
enough to contain the whole population, and every citizen was
there, as a matter of course, from daybreak to sunset!. With us a
successful play is repeated night after night, for months together :
in Greece the most admired dramas were seldom repeated, and
never in the same year. The theatre with us is merely a place of
public entertainment; in Greece it was the temple of the god,
whose altar was the central point of the semicircle of seats or steps,

1 Aisch. xara Kryo. p. 488, Bekker: cat dua ri mwepe nyetro Tols mpécBecw els
76 Oéarpov.

The torch-races in the last plays of a trilogia (above, p. 102).seem to show that the
exhibitions were not over till dark.

|
|
:

REPRESENTATION OF GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 211

from which some 30,0001 of his worshippers gazed upon a spectacle
instituted in his honour. Our theatrical costumes are intended to
convey an idea of the dresses actually worn by the persons repre-
sented, while those of the Greeks were nothing but modifications of
the festal robes worn in the Dionysian processions®. Finally, the
modern playwright has only the approbation or disapprobation of
his audience to look to; whereas no Greek play was represented
until it had been approved by a board appointed to decide between
the rival dramatists. It will be worth our while, then, to consider
separately the distinguishing peculiarities of a Greek dramatic ex-
hibition. We shall discuss the points of difference successively, as
they relate to the time, the means, the place, and the manner of per-
formance; to which we shall add a few remarks on the audience
and the actors. And first with regard to the time.

Theatrical exhibitions formed a part of certain festivals of Bac-
chus; in order, then, to ascertain at what time of the year they
took place, we must inquire how many festivals were held in Attica
in honour of that God, and then determine at which of them thea-
trical representations were given. There have been great diversi-
ties of opinion in regard to the number of the Attic Dionysia‘: it
appears, however, to be now pretty generally agreed among scholars
that there were four Bacchic feasts; in the sixth, seventh, eighth,
and ninth months respectively of the Attic year.

J. The “country Dionysia,” (ta Kar’ aypovs Avovicia,) were »

celebrated all over Attica, in the month Poseideon, which included
the latter part of December and the beginning of January. This

1 Plato, Sympos. p. 175 E.
2 Miiller, Humeniden, § 32, and Hist. Gr, Lit. 1. p. 393 new ed.

3 The reader who wishes to investigate the question fully is referred to Scaliger
(Emendat. Temp. 1. p. 29), Paulmier (Zxercitat. in Auctores Grecos, pp. 617—619),
Petit (Legg. Attice, pp. 112—117), Spanheim (Argum. ad Arist. Ran. Tom. 1. pp. 122
sqq. ed. Beck), Oderici (Dissert. de Didasc. Marmorea, Rom. 1777, and in Marini,
Iseviz. Albane, Rom. 1785, pp. 161—170), Kanngiesser (Kom. Biihne, pp. 161—170),
and Hermann (Beck’s Aristoph, Tom. v. pp. 11—28), who infer from the Scholiast,
on Aristoph. Ach. 201 and 503, that the Lenza were identical with the rural Diony-
sia; to Selden (ad Marm. Oxon. pp. 35—39), Corsini (7. A. 1. 3254829), Ruhnken
(in Alberti’s Hesych. Auctar. to Vol. I. p. 1000), Barthélemy (J/ém. de l’Acad. des
Inser, XXXIX. pp. 172 sqq.), Wyttenbach (Biblioth. Crit. 1. 3, pp. 41 8qq.), Spalding
(Abhandl. d. Berl. Academie, 1804—1811, pp. 7o—82), Blomfield (in Mus. Crit. m.
pp. 75 sqq.), and Clinton (/. H. 11. p. 332), who identify the Lenwa and Anthesteria ;
finally, to Bockh (Abhandl. d. Berlin. Acad. 1816, pp. 47—124), Buttmann (ad Dem.
Mid. p. 119), and Dr Thirlwall (in the Phil. Mus. 1. pp. 273 fol.), who adopt the
opinion stated in the text. Some arguments in favour of the second hypothesis
have been brought forward by a writer in the Classical Museum, No. xt. pp.

70 sqq.
14—2

‘

212 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

was the festival of the vintage, which is still in some places post-
poned to December?.

II. The festival of the wine-press (ra Axvaia) was held in
Gamelion, which corresponded to the Ionian month Lenzon, and
to part of January and February. It was, like the rural Dionysia,
a vintage festival, but differed from them in being confined to a
particular spot in the city of Athens, called the Lenwon, where
the first wine-press (Anvds) was erected.

Ill. The “Anthesteria” (ra "AvOeornpia, ta év Aupvais)
were held on the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth days of the
month Anthesterion. This was not a vintage festival, like the
former two. The new wine was drawn from the cask on the
first day of the feast (IIv@otya), and tasted on the second day
(Xoes): the third day was called Xvzpov, on account of the ban-
queting which went on then?. At the Choés each of the citizens
had a separate cup, a custom which arose, according to the
tradition, from the presence of Orestes at the feast, before he had
been duly purified’; it has been thought, however, to refer to
a difference of castes among the worshippers at the time of the
adoption of the Dionysian rites in the city‘. The ‘ Anthesteria”
are called by Thucydides the more ancient festival of Bacchus °,

IV. The “great Dionysia” (ta év dota, Ta Kat doTU, Ta
adotixa) were celebrated between the eighth and eighteenth of
Elaphebolion®. This festival is always to be understood when the
Dionysia are mentioned without any qualifying epithet.

At the first, second, and fourth of these festivals, it is known
that theatrical exhibitions took place. The exhibitions at the
country Dionysia were generally of old pieces’; indeed, there is
no instance of a play being acted on those occasions for the first
time, at least after the Greek Drama had arrived at perfection.

1 Philol. Mus, 1. p. 296.

2 See the end of the Acharnians, and Aul. Gell. viit. 24.

3 See Miiller’s Zumeniden, § 50. 4 See above, p. 55. B TTaas

6 Aschin. repl raparpecf. p. 36: pera Ta Atoviiowa ev tore Kal thy év Acovicov
exkAnotay mpoypdvar dvo éxxAnolas, Thy bev TH Oy56n eri Séxa, Ty b¢ rq evdryn éml Séxa:

and xara Kryo. p. 63: ed0ds mera Ta Atovtbova Ta & dorel, TH dydbn Kal evdry emt
déxa, >

7 Thus Demosthenes twits ADschines with his wretched performances in some of
the characters of Sophocles and Euripides at the deme Cotyttus. De Corond, p. 288.
Comp. Atschin. ¢. Timarch. p. 158. There appear to have been dramatic exhibitions
at Phlyw, in the time of Iseus: xal od udvoy els Ta ToLabra mapexadovmeba, ada Kal
els Acoviowa els dypov iyyev del judas, Kal mer’ éxelvou Te EOewpodmev Kabnmevor rap’ avbréy,
&c.—Iseus, de Ciron. Hered, Vol. 1. p. 114, Orator, Attic. Oxford.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 21s

At the Lenwa and the great Dionysia, both Tragedies and
Comedies were performed!; at the latter the Tragedies at least
were always new pieces; the instances in the didascalic, which
have come down to us, of representations at the Lenza are indeed
always of new pieces?, but from the manner in which the exhibition
of new Tragedies is mentioned in connexion with the city festival’,
we must conclude that repetitions were allowed at the Lenza, as
well as at the country Dionysia. The month Elaphebolion may
have been selected for the representation of new Tragedies, because
Athens was then full of the dependent allies, who came at that
time to pay the tributes‘, whereas the Athenians alone were
present at the Lenwa. It does not clearly appear that there
were any theatrical exhibitions at the Anthesteria; it is, however,
at least probable that the Tragedians read to a select audience at
the Anthesteria the Tragedies which they had composed for the
festival in the following month, or, perhaps, the contests took place
then, and the intervening month was employed in perfecting the
actors and chorus in their parts ®.

In considering the means of performance, we must recal to
mind the different origins of the two constituent parts of a Greek
drama—the chorus and the dialogue. Choruses were, as we have

t Law in Demosth. Mid. p. 517. 7 éml Anvaly mourn xal of tpaywdol kal of
kwuwdol, Kal rots é&v dares Atovvoltos 7 woumh Kal of matdes kal 6 K@uos Kal of
k@uwdol cal of Tpaywool.

2 See above, pp. 160, 182, 187, 189.

3 See the decree, Demosthenes zrepl creddvov, p. 264, Bekker: dvayopéboat rdv
orépavov év TO Oedtpw Acovuctas rpaywoots kawots. Lexicon Sangerm. p. 309, Bekker:
Tpaywootsr; Tay Tpaywidy of wey Hoav madatol of waaid Spduara elaodyovres’ ot 5é
kawvol, oi Kawd kal undérotre eloaxPévTa. See Hemsterhuis on Lucian’s 7'imon, Vol. I.
p- 463, Lehmann.

This custom continued down to the times of Julius Cesar, when a similar decree
was passed in favour of Hyrcanus the high-priest and Ethnarch of the Jews. See
Josephus, Antig. Jud. X1v. 8.

~ OU yap me Kal viv diaBaret KrXéwr, bre

Eévwy mapbvrwv thy modw Kakds éyw.

Adrol yap écpuév, obri Anvaly r’ aywr,

Kottrw févor mdpeccw* otre yap Pdpor

“Hxovoiv, or’ ék Tav modewy ol Evppaxor*

"ANN éopev adrol viv ye mepremricpévoe’

Tods yap perolkous dxupa Tav dorey éyw.

Aristoph. Acharn. 477: see the Scholiast.

Hence Aischines takes occasion to reproach Demosthenes with being too vain to be
content with the applause of his own fellow-citizens, since he must needs have the
crown decreed him proclaimed at the great Dionysia, when all Greece was present:
ovsé éexkAnotafdvrav ’AOnvalwy add\a Tpaywbdy aywrifouepwr Kaway, oS évavtlov Tod
Sjuov, AN évavtloy Tov EXAjvwv W& july cuverdGauMlov dvipa Tiweuev.—Contra
Ctesiph. Vol. ut. p. 469, Orat. Att. Oxford.

5 Philol, Mus, 11. pp. 292 fol.

214 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

seen!, originally composed of the whole population. When, how-
ever, in process of time, the fine arts became more cultivated, the
duties of this branch of worship devolved upon a few, and ultimately
upon one, who bore the whole expense, when paid dancers were
employed*. This person, who was called the Choragus, was con-
sidered as the religious representative of the whole people’, and
was said to do the state’s work for it (Nectoupyetv*). The Choragia,
the Gymnasiarchy, the Feasting of the Tribes, and the Architheo-
ria, belonged to the class of Re recurring state burtlens
(éyxvKdot evTovpyiar), to which all persons whose property ex-
ceeded three talents were liable. It was the choragus’ business®
to provide the chorus in all plays, whether Tragic or Comic, and
also for the lyric choruses of men and boys, Pyrrhichists, Cyclian
dancers, and others; he was selected by the managers of his tribe
(€redntal purrs) for the choragy which had come round to it.
His first duty, after collecting his chorus, was to provide and pay
a teacher (yopodidacxados), who instructed them in the songs and
dances which they had to perform, and it appears that the choragi
drew lots for the first choice of teachers. The choragus had also
to pay the musicians and singers who composed the chorus, and
was allowed to press children, if their parents did not give them
up of their own accord. He was obliged to lodge and maintain
the chorus till the time of performance, and to supply the singers
with such aliments as conduce to strengthen the voice. In the
laws of Solon the age prescribed for the choragus was forty years;
but this rule does not appear to have been long in force. The
relative expense of the different choruses, in the time of Lysias, is
given ina speech of that orator®. We learn from this that the

1 Above, p. 27. 2 See Buttmann on Dem. Mid. p. 37.

3 Hence his person and the ornaments which he procured for the occasion were
sacred. See Demosth. Mid. p. 519, et passim.

4 On this word, see Valekenaer on Ammon. It. 16; Ruhnken, Zpist. Crit. 1. p. 54;
Hesychius, s. v. p. 463, Vol. 1. It is formed from Aéws, Ae?rov, Aijiroy (see Herod.
VIL. 197: Ajirov Kadéover Td mpuTavijiov ol ’Axatol). The best notion of the meaning
of a liturgy may be derived from A%schyl. Eumen. 340:

Srevdduevos 5’ aerety Twa Tdcde pepiuvas
Ocay 5 aré\ecay éuats Netrats émixpalverv,

if the emendations which we have introduced, or adopted from Miiller, are to be
received.

5 On the choragia, see Béckh’s Public Economy, Vol. . pp. 207 foll. Engl.
Transl., or Stuart’s Athens.

6 Lysias, “Aro. dwpod, p. 698. Translated by Bentley (Phalaris, p. 360).

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 215

tragic chorus cost nearly twice as much as the comic, though
neither of the dramatic choruses was so expensive as the chorus of
men, or the chorus of flute-players!.

The actors were the representatives not of the people, but of -
the poet; consequently the choragus had nothing to do with them?
If he had paid for them, the dramatic choruses would surely
have exceeded in expensiveness all the others; besides, the actors
were not allotted to the choragi, but to the poets; and were there-
fore paid either by these, or, as we rather think, by the state.

When a dramatist had made up his mind to bring out a play,
he applied, if he intended to represent at the Lenza, to the king-
archon, and, if at the great Dionysia, to the chief archon? for
a chorus, which was given to him‘ if his piece was deemed worthy
of it®, Along with this chorus he received three actors by lot’,
and these he taught independently of the choragus, who confined
his attention to the chorus. The most important personage in the
formation of every chorus was the actual leader, precentor, or
fugleman, whose voice and movements the choreute followed in all
the songs and evolutions of the orchestra’. This functionary was
called xopudaios, yopod iyeuer, yopotroios®, also yopoorarns®, and
corresponded no doubt to the éapywv of the old choruses. It
is probable that there were two other fuglemen to take charge of
the subordinate divisions of the chorus, when it was broken up
into sections!°, and perhaps the passage in the Hwmenides, which

1 Demosth. Wid. p. 565.

® This is shown by Bockh, after Heraldus (Public Economy, ut. ch. 22, p. 455,
Engl. Tr.). Notwithstanding, however, what Béckh has said about the passage in
Plutarch, Phocion, 19, it seems that the choragus had something to do with the costume
of the actors, or at least of the supernumeraries who appeared on the stage or in the
orchestra.

3 See above, p. 114, note (1),

4 There is some difference of opinion as to the person “ who gave the chorus.”
Some think it was the choragus who was applied to (see Kiister on Aristoph. Ey. 510;
Ducker on Aristoph. Ran. 94); others that it was the archon: this opinion is in itself
the most likely to be true, and appears to be confirmed by the words of Aristotle
quoted above, p. 70, note (2).

5 Hence xopdv d:dévar signifies generally to approve or praise a poet. See Plato,
Resp. 11. p. 383 0, and Aristoph. Ran. in p, 159 supra.

§ This practice subsisted to the last: see Plotinus, m1, 2, p. 484, Creuzer.

7 Aristot. de Mundo, c.6: xaOdwep év xopG xopupalov xardptavros cwernxel was
6 xopés.

8 J. Pollux, Iv. § 106.

® Himerius, p. 558 ; Theodor. Prodr. Rhod. tv. p. 170.

10 Buttmann, Index in Dem. Mid. s. v. xopupatos, p. 178.

216 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

led to the absurd supposition that the chorus in that play consisted
of three only, refers to the corypheus and his two immediate
subalterns!. When the whole chorus was drawn up in three lines,
these two subalterns stood immediately behind the corypheus in
the second and third ranks respectively, and were called rapacrarns
and tpetoctatys with reference to their leader?.

It is clear that the three actors, who were termed pwtaya-
wornis, SevtepayovicTns, and tpitaywriaTys respectively *, were
always regarded as a distinct troop or company, and that each
retained his relative rank. Thus Ischander was regularly a deure-
payoviorys of the mpwraywvict)s Neoptolemus*, and Aischines
never rose toa higher rank than that of a tperaywvorys®. ‘The
first actor was regarded as the representative and manager of his
troop; he carried the inferior actors with him, received for himself
the prize of victory, and, though he may have given a share of
this and of the other honours of the performance to his second
performer, it is probable that the tritagonist was obliged to be con-
tented with his pay® Before a troop could be regarded as
generally entitled to perform it must have gained a prize. Other-
wise it was obliged to encounter some previous scrutiny, which
was waived in the case of any actor who had succeeded in a com-
petition’. It is reasonable also to conclude that the protagonist of
a successful troop was free from the risk of drawing lots for his
poet. At least we hear that the eminent actors Cleander and
Myniscus attached themselves almost exclusively to Eschylus §;
that Sophocles almost monopolized the services of Tlepolemus

1 y. 135: eye’ eyepe Kat od tive eyo 5é aé.

2 Aristot. Polit. ut. 4,6: dvdyxn wh ulay evar tiv T&v wohirdv mdvrww dperiy,
Garep ove Tov XopevTay Kopupalov kal mapacrdrov. Metaph. Iv. 11, p. 1018 b. 28:
olov rapactdrns Tpirostdrou mporepov kal mapavirn vyrns’ evOa péev yap 6 Kopupaios,
tv0a be h pbvn apxy. Jul. Pollux, Iv. § 106, seems to call the wapacrdrns deuTe-
poordrns.

3 Above, p. 54, note 4.

4 Dem. de Fals. Legat. p. 344, 7+

5 See the passage quoted at the end of this chapter.

6 Dem, de Coron. p. 314; Lucian, Navig. ad fin., Zearomen. 29 ; Plutarch, Precept.
Polit. p. 816 ad fin.

7 Hesychius and Suidas, s. v.: veuioes broxpirGy" ol rownrat édduBavoy pets brro-
Kptras KIpw veunDevras’ dv 6 uxjoas els Tobmidv axplrws (-ros Suid.) mapedauBdvero.
Where Hemsterhius conjectures rape\duSave and renders the passage (ad Luciani Tim. .
c. §t): “quorum poetarum qui superior discessit, in posterum sine discrimine suos
sibi actores legebat.” But the context shows that the relative refers to the actors and
not to the poets.

8 Hermann in Aristot, Poel. p. 193.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 217

and Cleidemides!; and that the latter poet sometimes composed
his plays with a special reference to the qualities of the actors
who had to perform in them?, just as modern composers will some-
times write an opera for a particular singer. The control which the
protagonist exercised over his coadjutors is shown in many ways.
If the inferior actors had finer voices than their chief, they were
sometimes obliged to do themselves imperfect justice in order that
he might shine the more*. And though the protagonist had some-
times to appear in a humble character by the side of his crowned
and sceptred hireling, the tritagonist‘, the great actor Theodorus
always took care to sustain any part, even that which belonged to
the tritagonist, if this involved the first entry on the stage, in order
to make sure of the first impression on the audience’, That the
poet would undertake to teach a protagonist how to act his play
seems very improbable, and the phrase didacxew Spdua must refer
only to the general superintendance, which the poet, in conjunction
with the choragus, exercised during the rehearsals of the play. —¢

When the day appointed for the trial came on, all parties united
their efforts®, and endeavoured to gain the prize by a combination
of the best-taught actors with the most sumptuously dressed and
most diligently exercised chorus’. That the exertions of the
choragus and the actors were often as influential with the judges
as the beauty of the poem cannot be doubted’, when we have so
many instances of the ill-success of the best dramatists. The

1 Bernhardy, Grundriss, p. 642.

* Vit. Sophocl. p. x.: kat mpds ras pices airav (rdv bmroxpiray) ypdwac ra
Spduara,

3 Cie. div. in Cecil. 15, 48: ‘fut in actoribus Grecis fieri videmus, seepe illum
qui est secundarum vel tertiarum partium, quum possit aliquoties clarius dicere quam
ipse primarum, multum submittere ut ille princeps quam maxime excellat.”

* Plat. Precept. Polit. p. 816 F: drowov wey ydp éorw rv per ev Tpayydia mpwr-
aywnorhy Oeddwpov 7 IlGdov bvra mucOwrG rE ra rpla (rplra?) Aéyovre wodddxes
érreo Oat } mpocdiadéyec Oar Tamrewas dv éxeivos xn Td diddnua Kal 7d OKITT pov.

5 Aristot. Polit. Iv. (vIt.) 17, p. 1336 : lows yap od Kak@s eye 7d ToL0droy
Ocbdwpos 6 rhs rpayywilas broxpiris* ovléu yap mumore TaphKev €avTod mpoeodyew
ovd€ Tay EvTENGy VroKpiTGy, ws olkecounévwy T&v OearGy Tals mpwrats dKoats.

§ The contending choragi were called dvrixépyyor (Demosth. Mid. p. 595, Bekker),
the rival dramatists dvrididdoxado. (Aristoph. Vesp. 1410), and their performers
dvrlrexvo (Alciphron, mt. 48), a name which is also given.to Euripides as the rival of
4éschylus in the dramatic contest between them in the Rane, 815.

? For the harmony and equality of voice required in the chorus see Aristotle,
Polit. 111. 113, § 21: 058 5 xXopodiddekados Tov petfov Kal KdAdOv TOD mavTds Xopoo
Poeyybpuevoy edoer cvyxopevew. "

8 It is expressly stated by Aristotle, Rhet. ut. 1,§ 4. Cf. Terence, Phormio,
Prolog. vv. 9, 10.

218 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

.
judges were appointed by lot, and were generally1, but, as we have
seen, not always’, five in number. The archon administered an
oath to them; and, in the case of the cyclian chorus, partiality or
injustice was punishable by fine®. The successful poet was crowned
with ivy (with which his choragus and performers were also
adorned‘), and his name was proclaimed before the audience. The
choragus who had exhibited the best musical or theatrical enter-
tainment generally received a tripod as a reward or price. This
he was at the expense of consecraiing, and in some cases built the
monument on which it was placed’, Thus the beautiful choragic
monument of Lysicrates, which is still standing at Athens, was
undoubtedly surmounted by a tripod; and the statue of Bacchus,
in a sitting posture, which was on the top of the choragic monu-
ment of Thrasyllus, probably supported the tripod on its knees.
Such, at least, seems to have been the intention of the holes drilled

Fig. 1.

1 See Maussac, Diss. Crit. p. 204; Hermann, de quinque judicibus poetarum,
Opusc. Vi. p. 88. os

2 Above, p. 114. 3 AMschin. xara Krnoig. § 85.

4 See the passages quoted by Blomfield (Mus. Crit, I. p. 88), and the lines of
Simmias, in p. 113, supra.

5 Lysias ubi supra, p. 202. Comp. Wordsworth’s Athens and Attica, pp. 153, 4.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 219

in the lap of the figure. From the inscriptions on these monuments,
the didascalie of Aristotle, Carystius Pergamenus, Dicearchus,
and Callimachus, were probably compiled’. The choragus in
Comedy consecrated the equipments of his chorus?, and was ex-
pected to provide his choreute with a handsome entertainment, an
expectation which, to judge from the complaints of the comic poets
themselves, he did not always fulfil in a satisfactory manner. It
is probable that the tragic chorus also looked for a similar conclu-
sion of their labours. The successful poet, as we see from Plato’s
Banquet, commemorated his victory with a feast. As, however,
no prize-drama was permitted to be represented for a second time
(with an exception in favour of the three great dramatists, which
was not long in operation‘), the poet’s glory was very transient; so
much so, that when Thucydides wished to predict the immortality
of his work, he sought for an apt antithesis in the once-heard
dramas of the contemporary poets®. The time allowed for the
representation was portioned out by the clepsydra, and seems to
have been dependent upon the number of pieces represented®,
What this number was is not known. It is probable, however,
that about three trilogies might have been represented on one day’.

1 Bockh’s Corpus Inscript. 1. p. 380.
? Lysias ubi supra. Comp. Theophrastus, Charact. XXII.
3 See Eupolis, ap. Jul. Poll. ur. § 115, (p. 551 Meineke) :

H5N Xopyyov mimrore
pumapwrepov Todd’ elées ;
Aristoph. Acharn. 1120:
bs y eué Tov TAjpova Ajvara xopnyav amékdew’
a&deurvor.

Cf. Arist. Av, 88 and the Scholiast: rofro els SiaBorhv rod xopyyod bre puxpov d€5u-
Kev lepetoy.

4 Above, p. 99; Aul. Gell. vir. 5; Plutarch, Rhetorum Vite.

5 1.22: Kripa Se és del waddov 7 d-ydviocua és Td mapaxphua axovew EvyKerrat,

§ Tod dé prjxous Spos, pds pev Tos dyGvas Kal Thy alcOnow, ob ris Téxvns eorly. El
yap eet éxardy tpaywilas dywriferOa, pds KrePtdpas ay iywvitovro, dorep more Kai
&\doré dacw. Aristot. Poet. c, VII.

7 “ Yet that number seems to have been a fixed thing: so Aristotle speaks of it:
eln 8 ay rovro, el rev ev dpxalwy éddrrovs al cvordcoes elev, mpbs TE Td wAROos
Tay Tpaywoidy TOv els wlav dxkpdaciy TiBewévwy rapiKoev. Poet. § 40. See
Tyrwhitt’s note. If each tribe furnished but one choragus, and not, as some appear
to have supposed, one for each different kind of contest, the number of tragic candi-
dates could scarcely have exceeded three. or there seem never to have been less
than three or four distinct kinds of choruses at the great Dionysian festivals; which,
when portioned out amongst the ten choragi, could not by any chance allow of more
than three or four choragi to the tragic competitors ; which agrees very well with all
that is elsewhere mentioned on this head, for we seldom meet with more than three
candidates recorded, and probably this was in general the whole number of exhibitors,

220 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

~~~ The place of exhibition was, in the days of the perfect Greek
drama, the great stone theatre erected within the Lenzon, or in-
closure sacred to Bacchus. The building was commenced in the
year 500 B.C., but not finished till about 381 B.c., when Lycurgus
was manager of the treasury. In the earlier days of the drama the
theatre was of wood, but an accident having occurred at the repre-
sentation of some plays of Aischylus and Pratinas, the stone theatre
was commenced in its stead?.

The student who wishes to entertain an adequate notion of the
Greek Theatre must not forget that it was only an improvement
upon the mode of representation adopted by Thespis, which it
resembled in its general features. The two original elements were
the @vuédn, or altar of Bacchus, round which the cyclian chorus
danced2, and the Noyetov or stage from which the actor or exarchus
spoke; it was the representative of the wooden table from which
the earliest actor addressed his chorus‘, and was also called oxpiBas.
But in the great stone theatres, in which the perfect Greek dramas
were represented, these two simple materials for the exhibition of a
play were surrounded by a mass of buildings, and subordinated to
other details of a very artificial and complicated description. That
part of the structure, which was set apart for the audience, and was
more properly called the @éatpov, may be discussed without any
doubt or difficulty; for not only are the authorities explicit in their
accounts, but we have many remains which are sufficiently com-.
plete to serve as a safe basis for architectural restorations ; and the
theatre at Aspendus in Pamphylia, which has come down to us
without a single defect of any consequence in the stone work, en-
ables us to restore, with very slight risk of error, all the details of
Aristophanes, indeed, had on one occasion four rival comedians to oppose (Argum. II.
in Plut.); but this was, in all likelihood, at the Lenea, when, perhaps, not a single
tragedy had been offered for representation, and, consequently, a large proportion of
choruses would be left disengaged for comic candidates.

«Tf the custom of contending with tetralogies was still retained, Aristotle, in the
passage above, most probably intended by r@v rpaywirdv Tov els ulay axpbacw Telene-
vey the exhibition of one such tetralogy. This supposition is in some measure
supported by the fact, that there were three or four separate hearings in the day;
since four tetralogies would occupy from twelve to sixteen hours : and if, as is natural,

each competitor took up a whole hearing, this will confirm our former induction with
regard to the number of candidates.” ormer Editor.

1 Libanius’ Argument. Demosth. Olynth. 1. and Suidas, Iparivas.

2 See Miiller, Anhang zum Buch, Asch. Eumeniden, p. 35.

3 Above, p. 100, note 5.

4 Above, p. 60; Pollux, Iv. 123: édeds 5é qv rpdwefa dpxala, ep’ qv mpd Odomibos
els ris dvaBas Tots Xopeurats dmexplvero.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 29T

the proscenium and orchestra which were presented to the eyes of a
Greek audience. With regard, however, to the minor arrangements
of the stage, such as the painted scenes and the other machinery of
exhibition, we are left in a great measure to an interpretation of the
ancient descriptions; for the more fragile materials of which these
parts of the theatre were constructed have yielded to the stress of
time, and so left us without any tangible evidence to support the
scattered statements of ancient writers. It will be desirable, there-
fore, before we proceed to give a general description of a Greek
theatre, based on an examination of all the authorities, and in-
cluding all the particulars for which we have any evidence, either
monumental or literary, to present to the student the actual form
of the best preserved of the ancient theatres, and to make this
ocular demonstration the basis and starting-point of the more theo-
retical reconstructions.

The theatre at Aspendus belongs unquestionably to the times of
the Roman domination in Asia Minor. An inscription over the
eastern door informs us that two brothers, A. Curtius Crispinus
Arruntianus and A. Curtius Auspicatus Titinnianus, in accordance
with their father’s will, had contributed to the repairs or adornment
of the theatre in honour of their ancestral gods and the imperial
house’; and it has been conjectured? from an inscription at Pra-
neste, which one of the two brothers had set up to P. Atlius Pius
Curtianus, that these persons lived in the time of M. Antoninus.
Be that as it may, other inscriptions, placed on a pedestal in the
interior, and over the door leading to the seats, inform us that the
architect was a Greek, Zeno the son of Theodorus’. And we may
infer that the theatre at Aspendus, though it belongs in its present
state to the time of the Roman Caesars, was probably built on the
foundations, and perhaps to a certain extent according to the model
of a previously existing Greek theatre. In its general features it
corresponds to the restorations which have been made, with the aid

1 Bockh, C. J. ur. p. 1163:
Dis patriis et domui Augustorum
ex testamento A. Curtii Crispini A. Curtius Crispinus Arrun-
tianus et A. Curtius Auspicatus Titinnianus fecerunt.
Geceots marplos kal d6uy DeBacray
éx dcaOjxns A. Koupriou Kpecorelvou A. Kotiprios Kpewmeivos ’Appouv-
tiavos kal A, Kovprios A’omixaros Tirwriavds érolnoay.
2 Henzen, Annali dell’ Instituto di Corr. Arch. 1852, p. 165.
3 Bockh, mm. pp. 172, 1161.

223 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

of the fragments, of the cavea of the theatre at Catana as seen from
the stage!, and of the stage of the theatre at Tauromenium, as seen
from the cavea®. It contains all that was required for the repre-
sentation of a Greek play in the best period of the drama; and
though, as we shall see, Vitruvius makes certain distinctions be-
tween the Greek and Roman theatres, it does not follow that all
theatres built in Greek cities during the Roman period departed
from the ancient model, which, after all, was the point of departure
for the Roman architects themselves.

It will be observed that the theatre at Aspendus, as represented
in the accompanying ground-plan (Plate 1), elevation of the lower
front (fig. 2), and view of the interior (see Frontispiece)*, is externally

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a plain building, with three complete rows of windows, besides six-
teen other openings of the same kind. Jn the interior, the theatrum,
or part allotted to the spectators, is a hemicycle composed of two

1 Serradifaleo, Antich. della Sicilia, Vol. v. Taf. 111.; Wieseler, Theatergebaiide,
Daf, 11. 12.

2 Serradifaleo, Vol. v. Tav. xx1i.; Wieseler, Taf. m1. 6.

3 These illustrations are taken from Texier, Description de l’ Asie Mineure, Paris,
1849, Vol. 11. Pl. 232 sqq. The description is due to Schénborn (Scene der Hellenen,
pp. 26—28, 83—94), who saw the theatre about the same time as Texier.

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GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 223

precinctiones or divisions separated by a diazoma or lobby, and
there are nineteen tiers of seats in each of these separate halves of
the theatre. The whole is crowned by a portico or gallery with
fifty-eight arches. The great majority of the audience must have
got to their places through the parodi of the orchestra, from which
there are steps leading to the rows of seats, or through the gallery
at the upper end, which had doors behind it. It was, however,
possible to reach the upper seats by a door at the north end of the
seats leading to the diazoma. ‘The scene-front is connected with
the spectators’ seats by walls on either side rising to the full height
of the theatre, and there can be no doubt that this part of the
building was covered in by a roof. There are three stories in the
scene. In the first story theye are five doors. A cubical basement
of stone appears in each angle of the scene, and these are continued
by the sides of the doors, so that there are twenty of them in all.
Those in the corners have each of them an unfluted column reach-
ing to the second story, and these columns are still found in the
Greek theatre at Myra in Lycia. The other basements by the
doors were probably the distances from the proscenium at which the.
movable scenery hung from the balconies above. Besides the five
doors the first story has nine windows, of which the four larger
stand between the doors, and the other five over the doors. These
windows, like those in the upper story, are merely ornamental, as
they do not go through the wall. In the second story, immediately
over the cubical basements of the podium, there is a corresponding
number of little balconies, each consisting of a slab resting on two
supports projecting at right angles from the wall. The faces of the
latter are ornamented, like the frieze of a building, with the skulls
of victims connected by garlands. On each of the balconies there
is a low pedestal, and they are all connected by a narrow ledge,

which may have served as the support of the planks laid across from

one balcony to the other, when the exigencies of the performance

required that the whole should be used as a continuous upper stage.

It is to be remarked that Vitruvius, as we shall see, speaks of the

pluteum in the singular; and there is no reason why these little bal-

conies should not be regarded as really connected by the ledge to

which reference has been made. There are no traces of balustrades.

But the upper part of the scene. served, no doubt, as a sufticient

protection for the actors, when they had to appear on the second

story. There are three little doors in the second story, leading to

‘

224 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

the gallery formed by the series of balconies; also eight windows
corresponding to those of the lower story, the place of the ninth
being occupied by one of the doors. The third story has no doors
or windows, and instead of a practicable gallery, it has a series of
ornamental pediments, triangular or semicircular, standing over the
projections below and similarly supported. That in the centre,
which is much the largest, is adorned with a female figure sur-
rounded by ramifications of foliage. There are traces in the third
story both of the supports of the roof, and of the orifices, in which
stage machinery rested. The two wings of the theatre are divided
by a party wall in continuation of the proscenium, and the outer
half of each, i.e. that which is bounded by the front wall of the
theatre, constitutes in each case a stayrcase to the upper stories of
the building.

We now proceed to show how exactly this well-preserved the-
atre corzesponds in all essential features to the general descriptions
which have come down to us.

A formal description of an ancient theatre necessarily rests on
the geometrical rules of Vitruvius. The Roman theatre was ar-
ranged, he tells us!, according to the following scheme: describe a

Fig. A.

circle (abedefghiklm) with a radius corresponding to the intended
size of the orchestra, and in this inscribe four equilateral triangles,
aet, fle, egl, dhm, the angles of which shall touch the circumference

1 Vitruvius, Vv. 6, 7.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 225

at equal distances. Let any side, mh, of an included triangle be
taken to represent the direction of the scena, and parallel to this draw
the line ag through the centre of the circle. The line mh pro-
duced to o on one side and to n on the other so as to make it double
the diameter, or four times the radius of the circle, gives the front
of the scene; and the line ag marks the limits of the pulpitum on
the side of the orchestra. The five angles, which fall within the
scene, indicate the positions of the five doors opening on the stage ;
and the other seven angles define the directions of the steps leading
to the seats of the spectators.

From this it appears that the orchestra in a Roman theatre
formed a semicircle, of which the furthest point was one radius
from the front of the stage, and one radius and a half from the front
of the scene; the scene was four radii in length, and the stage half
a radius in breadth.

The Greek theatre was arranged according to the following
scheme!, Taking a circle agy, inscribe in it three squares nkfe,
mieb, lgdy, so that the angles touching the circumference may be
equidistant from one another. As before, let any side, nk, of an
included square be taken to represent the boundary of the prosce-
nium on the side of the spectators; then a tangent pr, drawn paral-
lel to this side, will represent the front of the scene. Let o be the
centre of the circle, and q the centre of the orchestra thus defined ;
through g draw ah parallel to nk; and from @ and h, with the
radius of the original circle, draw the arcs sf, wv, cutting the pro-

Fig. B.

1 Vitruvius, v. 8.

226 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

duced line xk in the points w and z. The length of the scene shall
be equal to the line wa.

From this it appears that the orchestra in a Greek theatre was
more than a semicircle, the furthest point being one radius and five-
sevenths from the front of the stage, and a whole diameter from the
front of the scene. The breadth of the stage is therefore 7 of the
radius.

These proportions, though differing in special cases, correspond
in the main to those of the existing theatres, and may be assumed
as the basis of the following description, and of the plan (Plate 2)
by which it is illustrated?.

In building a theatre, the Greeks always availed themselves of
the slope of a hill, which enabled them to give the necessary ele-
vation to the back-rows of seats, without those enormous substruc-
tions which we find in the Roman theatres. If the hill-side was
rocky, semicircles of steps, rising tier above tier, were hewn out of
the living material. If the ground was soft, a semicircular excava-
tion of certain dimensions was made in the slope of the hill, and
afterwards lined with rows of stone benches. Hven when the for-
mer plan was practicable, the steps were frequently faced with
copings of marble. This was the case with the theatre of Bacchus
at Athens, which stood on the south-eastern side of the rocky Acro-
polis. This semicircular pit, surrounded by seats on all sides but
one, and in part filled by them, was called the «otdev or cavea
(A AA), and was assigned to the audience. At the top it was en-
closed by a lofty portico and balustraded terrace (c). Concentric
with this circular are, and at the foot of the lowest range of seats,
was the boundary line of the orchestra, épynotpa, or * dancing-
place”’ (B), which was given up to the chorus. If we complete the
circle of the orchestra (compare fig. B.), and draw a tangent to it
at the point most removed from the audience, this line will give
the position of the scene, oxyvy, or “covered building?” (pp),
which presented to the view of the spectators a lofty fagade of
hewn stone, susceptible of such modifications as the different

1 This plan, with the exception of the stage, is derived from that which was
published by Mr. T. L. Donaldson in the supplemental volume to Stuart’s Antiquities
of Athens, 1830, p. 33. It has also appeared in The Library of Entertaining Know-
ledge, ‘‘ Pompeii,” Vol. 1. p. 232, where the wood-eut preserves the engraver’s error of
OPKH=TPA for OPXHETPA, by way of identification; for the autior of the plan is
not mentioned,

2 «< Scene properly means a tent or hut, and such was doubtless erected of wood by
the earliest beginners of dramatic performances, to mark the dwelling of the principal
person represented by the actor.” Miiller, Z/ist. Lit, Gr. 1. p. 301.

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GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 227

plays rendered suitable. In front of this scene was a narrow stage,
called, therefore, the wpooxnviov (Cc), which was indicated by the
parallel side of a square}, inscribed in the orchestral circle, but ex-
tended to the full length of the scene on both sides (i.e. to DD).
Another parallel at a certain distance behind the scene gave the
portico (F F), which formed the lower front of the whole building.

We are not to suppose that a Greek theatre exhibited in its
architecture any elaborate or superfluous ornamentation. It was
constructed for a special purpose—the adequate representation of
dramatic entertainments of a certain kind before a very considerable
multitude of spectators,—and if it effected this purpose, the archi-
tect and his employers were quite satisfied. He was not inspired
with the unprofitable ambition of an eminent and successful mem-
ber of the same profession in our own time, of whom it has been
said at once pointedly and truly, that being employed to build
a house of Parliament, which was to accommodate a certain number
of members and to admit of the speakers being well heard, he
contrived it so that the persons, for whom it was intended, could
not all be present, while those who spoke were, except under very
favourable circumstances, inaudible to the reporters and their proper
audiences; and who being also employed to build a picture-gallery
for a nobleman, so contrived it that scarcely one of the paintings
could be seen in a good light; though in both cases he erected
stately buildings very pleasing to the eye when seen from without.
Very different was the performance of the architect who constructed
a Greek theatre. If the seats of the spectators did not run on the
side of a hill they were surrounded by a wall without ornaments
or windows, and resembling the tower of a fortress rather than
a splendid edifice. And the front of the theatre was so devoid of
all decorations that it would have suggested to a modern spectator
the idea of a barrack or a manufactory, rather than of a place
consecrated to the Muses?.

The xoiXov or cavea (A) was divided into two or more flights of
steps by the daf%epata or precinctiones (bbb), which were broad
belts, concentric with the upper terrace and with the boundary line

1 The angles of this square, and of two others inscribed in the orchestral circle as

indicated in the accompanying plan, point out the divisions of the cunei, the com-
mencements of the iter (at hk), and the width of the eccyclema (at i).

2 Schénborn, Scene der Hellenen, p. 22, and compare the elevation of the theatre
at Aspendus (Fig. 2).

15—2

228 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

of the orchestra, and served both as lobbies and landings!. The
steps of the xo?dov were again subdivided transversely into masses
called xepxtdes, cunet, or “wedges” (a aa), by stairs, eA yaxes ( 999);
running from one é:af@pa to another, and converging to the centre
of the orchestra. These stairs were called cediSes, or gangways,
from their resemblance, mutatis mutandis, to the passage across the
sparta or bud of a trireme?, for they were flanked on both sides
by spectators seated before and below one another, just as the cedis
running fore and aft ina galley passed between the rowers, the
highest of the three benches being always behind the middle tier,
and this again being behind the lowest. As it seems that there
were eleven tiers of seats between each Siafopa in the theatre at |
Athens, the diazoma itself being counted as the twelfth row, we
shall understand the allusion in Aristophanes (Hquites, 546):
alper” abtG Todd 7d pbOov, waparcupar ep’ evdexa Kwmais
OdpuBov xpnoTov Anvairyy—

“yaise for him a plash of applause in good measure, and waft hin
a noble Lenwan cheer with eleven oars,” for each xepxis would
suggest the idea of eleven benches of rowers, and the applause
demanded by the chorus would come like the plash of eleven oars
striking the water® at once.

Different parts of the theatre received different names from the
class of the spectators to whom they were appropriated. ‘Thus, the
lower seats, nearest to the orchestra, which were assigned to the
members of the council (SovA7), and others who had a right to
reserved seats (mpocdpia), were called Bovdeutixos Toms, and the
young men sat together in the épnBucos roost. The spectators

1 The view which has been given of the theatre at Aspendus shows the correspond-
ing parts of these prwcinctiones; but in the theatre at Herculaneum there is no
proper diazoma to separate the rows of seats, which run above each other in distinct
galleries.

2 There is no doubt that the primary sense is the nautical, as given by Hesychius:
gerloes* Ta weratd Siadpdywara Tav duacrnudrww THs veds. Eustathius also and Julius
Pollux connect cedis with cé\ua. Phrynichus says (Anecd. Bekk. 62, 27): oeXts
BuBrlou" Néyerae be Kal certs Oedrpov; but the use of cedls to denote the intercolumnar
space of a manuscript, and hence to signify the page of a book in general, is the latest
use of the three, and is probably derived from the resemblance between the lines of
seats in the theatre divided by gangways, and the lines of writing separated by inter-
columnar spaces of blank paper.

3 See our paper “On the Structure of the Athenian Trireme,” Camb. Phil. Soc.
Vol. x. Part I.

4 'Kd0 dpa Tov dvbpa THs yuvacxds ev BovrevTiKG, Aristoph. Aves, 794. On which
the Scholiast remarks; ovros ré7ros Tod bedrpou, 6 dvetpmévos Tois BovNeuTais, ws Kal O Tots
éEp7jBas EpnBrxds.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 229

entered either from the hill above by doorways in the upper por-
tico (www), or by staircases in the wings of the lower fagade (ss)?

The orchestra (B) was a levelled space twelve feet lower than
the front seats of the xotAov, by which it was bounded, Six feet
above this was a boarded stage (e), which did not cover the whole
area of the orchestra, but terminated where the line of view from
the central cunei was intercepted by the boundary line. It ran,
however, to the right and left of the spectators’ benches (e f, ef),
till it reached the sides of the scene. The main part of this
platform, as well as an altar of Bacchus in the centre of the
orchestral circle (d), was called the @upérn?.. The segment of the
orchestra not covered by this platform was termed the xoviorpa,
arena, or “place of sand.” In front of the elevated scene, and six
feet higher than the platform in the orchestra (i.e. on the same
level with the lowest range of seats), was the mpooxnyiov, men-
tioned above (c), and called also the AXoyetov, or “ speaking-stage.”
There was a double flight of steps («Awaxrhpes) from the arena
(koviotpa) to the platform in the orchestra (py), and another of a
similar description from this orchestral platform to the mpooxnviov
or real stage (g). ‘There were also two other flights of steps lead-
ing to the orchestral platform from the chambers below the stage
(fh, fh). These were called the yapévior Krimaxes, or ‘ Charon’s
stairs,’ and were used for the entrance of spectres from the lower
world, and for the ghostly apparitions of the departed. There was
another entrance to the thymelic platform, which led to the outer

Allusion is made to these reserved seats, in the Zquites, 669:

K\éwr. "ATONG oe vh Thy mpoedplav thy éx ILvdov.

"AMavrorw@dns. "ldo mpocdpiav’ olov bYomal o éyw

°EK Tis mpoedplas ésxarov Bewmevor.

From whence and elsewhere we may infer, that eminent public services were
rewarded by this highly-prized wpoedpia. It is a great matter with the vain-glorious
man in Theophrastus: rod Qedrpov kabjcPa, bray 7 Péa, mAynclov TaY aTparnyar.
Char, 11.

! Kolster maintains (Sophokleische Studien, p. 25) that at Athens the only entrances
for the spectators were those to the right and left of the orchestra, for that the stage
lay to the south; and to the north, at the back of the theatre, where the rocks of the
Acropolis rose, there could have been no entrance,

2 The student should remark the successive extensions of meaning with which this
word is used. At first it signified the altar of Bacchus, round which the cyclic chorus
danced the dithyramb. Then it signified the platform, on which this altar stood, and
which served for the limited evolutions of the chorus. Lastly it denoted any platform
for musical or dramatic performances, so that in the later writers the thymele is identi-
fied with the proscenium, which extended as far as the centre of the orchestral circle in
the Roman theatres (see Jahrb. f. Phil. u. Pidag. ut. 1, pp. 22—32). We believe
that in the time of Euripides, at all events, the thymele signified the platform for the
chorus, and not merely the altar which stood upon it: see Eurip. Electr. 712 sqq.

230 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

portico of the theatre by passing under the seats of the spectators
(hbr). This may have been used when there was no regular
parodus of the chorus (of which more presently), and when the
choreute made their exit in an unusual manner, as in the last scene
of the Ewmenides. The regular entrances of the chorus were by
the mdpodoz (tn, tn), and along the dposos or ter (te, te).

The scene itself was a facade of masonry consisting regularly
of two stories (whence it is called dvoreyia!), divided by a plutewm
or continuous balcony, either made throughout of a platform of
stone, or consisting of a series of projections with balustrades,
which might be made continuous by laying a flooring of planks
from one to the other. If there was a third story, it was called
the episcenus; but this was not essential. The scene was adorned
by columns, and Vitruvius gives their regular dimensions ; namely,
those in the lower story, with their pedestals and capitals, were
one-fourth of the diameter of the orchestra; over these the epi-
styles and entablatures were one-fifth of the columns below; in the
second story we have the plutewm with its entablature or baleony
half the height of the pulpitum or stage, which Vitruvius designates
as “the lower balcony?,” and above the pluteum we have the
columns of the second story less by one-fourth than those of the
lower story, the epistylium with the entablature being as before
one-fifth of the columns below. If there is an episcenos, its pliu-
teum is half the plutewm below it, and its columns less by one-
fourth than the columns of the second story, the epistylium and
entablature bearing the same proportion, namely, one-fifth, to the
corresponding columns. These measurements of course varied
with the tastes of different epochs, and the size of the theatre in
the particular case. The distinctive and indispensable features of
the scene were the pluteum or baleony, and the five doors by which
the actors made their different entrances on the stage. On these
particulars it will be necessary to make some remarks.

It seems more than probable that in the most flourishing period
of the Greek drama, the mere front of the scene was never used
to indicate by itself the place of the action, but that this was
always depicted on a painted curtain or some similar representation.
That these pictures were suspended from the pluteum seems to be

1 Vitruv. V. 7: plutewm insuper cum unda et corona inferioris plutei dimidia parte.
See Schénborn, p. 82; and below, part 1.
4 Pollux, Iv. § 130.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 231

the most natural supposition, and if the scene represented a moun-
tain, as in the Prometheus, a watch-tower, as in the Supplices, or
a palace, as in the Agamemnon, on the top of which an actor had
to appear, it is obvious that the pluteum would furnish him with
the necessary footing; and there can be no doubt that there were
approaches to it by doors in the scene, as, in fact, we see in the
theatre at Aspendus. It is also evident that the pluteum must have
furnished a basis for certain machines, which were worked above
the stage. For example, the @eoroyeiov!, which was apparently
a platform surrounded by clouds, and contrived for the introduction
of divine personages, was of course moved from the side of the
scene along the pluteum. The whole of the action in the Peace of
Aristophanes from v. 178, when Trygeus is raised on his monster
beetle to the second story of the scene, by means of a machine
(v. 174), to v. 728, when he returns to the stage,—having lost his
beetle,—by means of the staircase behind the scene, must have
taken place in sight of the spectators on the upper balcony of the
pluteum. |

Every one of the five doors in the scene had its appropriate des-
tination. The centre door (7), or valve regie of Vitruvius, was the
regular entrance of the protagonist, and represented, according to
the scenery hung before it, a palace, a cavern, or other abode of the
chief actor for the time being; the door to the spectators’ right of
this (k) was the abode of the dewteragonist, and the door to the
spectators’ left (2) was appropriated to the tritagonist. Pollux says,
perhaps referring to a particular play, the Bacche of Euripides, that
the right door indicated the strangers’ apartment (evr), and the
left a prison (eipxry). Vitruvius terms both of the doors near the
centre hospitalia. In Comedy Pollux calls the adjacent space to
the centre «Ar/ctov, “ the out-buildings,” with reference of course to
some particular Comedy; and the scenery represented wide en-
trances called «rucrddes Ovpat, adapted for the ingress of cattle and
wagons. Towards either side of the scene were two other doors,
which Vitruvius calls zéinera and aditus, and these, with the vepi-
axtot, or triangular prisms moving on pivots, which were fixed
beside or in them (m, m), indicated to the spectators whether the
actors entering by these doors were to be supposed as coming from

1 Pollux, Iv. § 130: dd 5é Oeodoyelou bvros Urép Tiy cKyviv &v Vper éemipalyovrac
Geol, ws 6 Leds Kal ol wept adroy év Vuxooracia.

232 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

the city or the harbour in the immediate neighbourhood of the
locality represented, or from a distance. The student will remem-
ber that these five entrances led to the stage, and belonged to the
actors only. And the distinction between the two elements in the
ancient drama, on which we have so often insisted, must be borne
in mind here. For in addition to these five e/codou for the entrances
of the actors, there were two mapodor, one on each side, for the
chorus. These zrapodoz did not lead to the stage, but either opened
at once from the wings into the orchestra, as we see in the theatre
at Aspendus, or, to favour the idea that the side-entrances of the
chorus and actors corresponded, the chorus passed under the stage,
and came out by doors (¢,¢) on a line with the periacti (m, m),
which are often mentioned in connexion with the parodi. If any
one, who so entered the orchestra, had afterwards to mount the
stage, as Agamemnon in the play of that name, he was obliged to
ascend by a flight of steps!. Now we are told that while, with
regard to the side-doors on the stage, the right door indicated that
the actor so entering came from a distance, but the /eft that he
came from the city or the harbour, and that if the right-hand zepi-
axtos was turned, it indicated that the road leading to the distant
object was different, but that if both arepéaxroe were turned, with of
course a change in the decorations of the scene itself, the place of
action was different, or there was a total change of scene. But, on
the other hand, it is said that, with regard to the mapodou or en-
trances of the chorus, that on the right was supposed to lead from
the market-place (if we read ayop7Oev for aypo@ev) or from the har-
bour or from the city, but that those who came on foot (i.e. not
floating in the air like the chorus of Oceanides in the Prometheus)
from any other quarter entered by the left rapodos*. As it is quite

1 It is clear that the doors on the stage were always used for the entrances and
exits of the actors, except in the few cases in which they made their first appearance
on horseback or in a chariot, like Ismene in the @dipus Coloneus, and Agamemnon
and Cassandra in the first play of the Orestea. See Schénborn, Scene der Hellenen,
pp- 17 sqq.; Kolster, Sophokleische Studien, Pref. p. xii.

® This is Schénborn’s explanation of the difficulty (Scene der Hellenen, pp. 72 sqq.).
Kolster, on the contrary (Sophokleische Studien, pp. 24 sqq.), understands the words of
Pollux (tv. 126) of the actors, and reads them as follows: réy wévroe trapddwy 7 mev
deka dypbbev 7 ex Ayuévos 7 ex méEws dyer, ol 5 dhrAaxd0e wéfor ddixvotmevor KaTa THY
érépay elclacw’ eloeOdvres be [ép’ trrov 7 ef’ auacdv] els rhyv dpxjotpay éml rH
oKnviv ba KNYdKwv dvaBalvovct. He supposes that, as the theatre at Athens was on
the south slope of the Acropolis, the city and the harbour would lie on the right and
the country of Attica on the left; consequently, the spectators would imagine that the
right-hand door, by which they had entered the theatre along with their foreign
visitors, led to distant parts, and that the left hand door, by which the countrymen

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. — 233

impossible that the entrances of the chorus and the actors should
not have had the same reference to the quarters from which they
were supposed to enter, this apparent inconsistency must be ex-
plained by the fact that the scene and the @éatpov, properly so
called, were regarded as distinct buildings, the orchestra belonging
to the Jatter; and while the entrances on the stage were designated
according to the right and left hands of the actors, the entrances of
the chorus, which faced the stage, were denoted according to the
right and left hands of the spectators. Consequently, the spec-
tators looked to their right when they expected a new entrance,
whether of actor or chorus, from the neighbourhood of the scene of
action, but to their left when they expected to see an arrival from a
distance. Thus in the Agamemnon, the chorus enters by the right
parodos; the herald, and the king with Cassandra come from the
left of the audience; and A%gisthus, on the other hand, from the
right side-door.

It seems clear, from the original meaning of the word oxnry,
i.e. covered building, that the scene had a roof of some kind.
There-are but few traces of this in the existing monuments. But
as far as the evidence is available it may be concluded that the roof
was flat, and that it had a coping with battlements.

The stage (Noyetov, oxpiBas, ixpra, pulpitum) was a long narrow
platform extending to the whole length of the scene, and elevated
to a height of ten or twelve feet above the orchestra}. Its breadth,
according to Vitruvius, was one seventh of the diameter of the
orchestra, but its length was nearly double the orchestral diameter.
It was therefore a mere ledge at the foot of the scene, and was ap-
propriately called the podiwm, according to the original application
of that term. As we have already mentioned?, the stage was a
representative of the wooden table from which the ewarchon spoke
to his chorus, and to the end it seems to have a movable wooden
from Rhamnus, Marathon, &c., had made their way to the seats, led to the home-
district. In order to reconcile this view with the text of Pollux, Kolster understands
dypé0e as meaning peregre, though he owns that he cannot produce any example of
such a meaning. He supports his view by the statement that the fevdy was on the right
and the prison on the left of the centre door; for he argues that the prisoner was
originally also the slave, who was connected with the labours of the field, and must
therefore have his ergastulum on the home-side, on which also, as Kolster thinks, the

kNictov, or stall for the cattle, was placed. It does not appear to us that this interpre-
tation is in accordance with the principles of sound criticism.

1 In the Roman theatre the stage was at most five feet higher than the level of
the orchestra.

2 Above, p. 60.

234 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

structure, sometimes, however, resting on supports of masonry. In
several of the ancient theatres, especially in that at Aspendus, we
still see flights of steps leading from the stage-doors to the level of
the orchestra; and this alone is sufficient to indicate the fact that
the Noyefov was taken down, whenever, as was frequently the case,
the theatre was required for public meetings or other purposes not
strictly theatrical}.

In its original meaning the word mpooknviov was no doubt
synonymous with doyetor, for it signified that which was before
the scene, and it is used in this sense by Virgil and other writers”.
It is equally clear, however, that the word was used improperly to
denote the scene itself, or rather the face of the scene, which was
turned towards the spectators’; and with a stricter reference to the
form of the word, it denoted the curtain or hanging before the
scene*,

There are two other derivatives from oxyvn, which have oceca-
sioned no little difficulty and misconception. These are rapacxy-
viov and virocKnvLov.

In the singular number, tapackyviov denotes what was sung
by a member of the chorus instead of a fourth actor®, . But in
the plural, rapaceyvia undoubtedly means the lateral projections of
the scene, by the sides of the péuos with the apartments which they
contained, and the doors or openings by which the chorus entered
the orchestra. Modern writers on the subject, with the exception

1 Schénborn, p. 29.

2 Virg. Georg. 1. 382: veteres ineunt proscenia ludi, Where Servius says: p7'o-
scenia...sunt pulpita ante scenam, in quibus ludicra exercentur. Plut. Moral. p. 1096 B:
xadkobv ’AéEavdpov ev ILé\Ny Bovdbpevoy movjoae 7d mpocKiviov ovK elacev 6 Texvirns ws
diapbepoty Trav Wroxpirav tiv puviv. Polybius (?) apud Suid. 8. v.: ) TUXN TapEr-
Kouern Thy mpbpacw KdOamep éml mpockjuiov, Tapeyopywoe TAS aNyOets érwvolas.

8 The mpooxjviov and Noyetoy are mentioned separately in the inscriptions at Patara
(Bickh, CO. J. No. 4283, Vol. 111. p. 151): xaiépwoev 76 Te TpogKkihvioy, 6 KaTEetKEvaceEY
éx Oevelov 6 rarhp abrijs...xal Thy Tod Noyelou Karackeviy Kal wAdKWoW a@ érolnoev
airh (where m\dxwots means ‘‘pargetting” or “ rough-casting”). And the gram-
marian published by Cramer (Anecd. Paris. 1. p. 19) must have meant the scene itself
when he attributed to Auschylus the mpocxjya kal ducreylas. Hence Vitruvius (Vv. 6)
speaks of the proscenii pulpitum, and Suetonius (Nero, cc. 12, 26) of the proscenit
fastigium and pars proscenit superior.

4 Suidas s. v.: 7d mpd THs oxnvis raparéracua. Duris, ap. Athen. XI. p. 536 A:
éypdpero érl rod mpocxyvlov éml rijs olkouwevns dxoupevos. Id. x1it. p. 587, et Harpo-
crat. 8. v. Ndvvov: mpooxipiov éxadetro ) Ndvnov, bre mpbowmby re doretov elxe kal
éxpiro xpvalas Kal iwariows modurédect, éxddoa de jv alcxpordrn. Of. Synesius,
p- 128 ©.

5 Pollux, rv. § 109: érére ev dvrt rerdprov bmoxpirod béon Twa Tav XKopevTav
elreiy év dp, mapacKkhviov KaNeirae TO mpaypa, ws év ’Avyapeuvove Aloxvdov,

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 235

of C. O. Miiller and Sommerbrodt?, have allowed themselves to be
misled by the confused descriptions of the grammarians, who
suppose that the parascenia were entrances to the stage rather than
to the orchestra, and buildings behind the scene itself, and not
those behind the lateral projections only?. That the rapackyjma
were separate from the scene and beside it, is clear from the
form of the word’, from the definition given by Theophrastus‘,
and from the phraseology of Aristeides®, And that the doors
from them led to the orchestra and not to the stage, and were
used by the chorus and not by the actors, is proved by the passage
in Demosthenes, where he charges Meidias with barricading and
nailing up the vapackya*; in order, as Ulpian justly remarks,
that the chorus might be obliged to go round by the outer entrance,
instead of passing at once through the zrapodos to the orchestra’.
The vzockjmov has generally been understood as indicating
the front of the stage itself, and the chambers below the stage’,

1 Miiller (Handb. d. Arch. § 289, 5) understands the rapackima as the versure
procurrentes; and Sommerbrodt (de disch. re Scen. p. 23) says distinctly: ‘‘ Demos-
thenis state rapackiyia edificia fuisse in utroque scene latere exstructa, per que
chorus posset in orchestram intrare.”

2 See the passages quoted by Meineke, Fragm. Com. Gr. Vol. tv. Epimetrum vu.
pp- 722 sqq.; Schonborn, Scene d. Hellenen, pp. 98, 99.

8 This may be inferred from the proper sense of the preposition rapd, which we
also find in the word wdpodos, and with a like signification. For the actors were said
elovévat, and their entrances were called eicod0c; but the entrance of the chorus was a
mdpodos (Jul. Poll. Iv. 108: Kat 7 wev elcodos Tod xopod madpodos Kadetra, 7 de Kara
xpelav &odos, ws madw elovdvTwv meTdotacts % 5é mer’ adr elcodos émimdpodos’
7 6é€ Tedela &£o50s &podos), and Ulpian calls the rapacxyma—ras éml THs oxnyijs (not
érl thy oxyvhy) elcddovs, which indicates that they were not on the stage, but only
towards the stage (Donalds. Gr. Gr. 483).

4 Harpocrat. s. v.: €ovke mapackijvia KadelcOa, ws 6 Oeddpacros ev elkooTS viuwv
broonualver, 6 wept Thy oKnviy arodedevryunévos Téros Talis ev Toy dyGva wapackevais. 6
dé Alduuos ras Exarépwhey ris dpxjotpas eladdous ovTw Pyal KadetoOat.

5 IL p. 397, 3: od Thy oKnviy Oavudfwv Td Tapackjua yridcw Kal Tods NéOyous
adels érjpes TA Tapadbeyuara’ otTw rbppw Tov vduou Balvecs.

6 Mid. p. 520, 18: Ta wapacKknua ppdtrwyv, mpoonrOv.

7 Schol. ad Dem. Tom. IX. p. 547, Dind.: rovrectw drodpdtrwy ras émt rijs
oxnr7s elcddous, iva 6 xopds dvayKagnrar mwepudvar dia THS EEwHov eladdov, Kal otrw
Bpadivorvros éxelvov cuuBalyy Katayedacba tov Anuocbévny, Kolster supposes that
Meidias nailed up the periacti, and barricaded what remained of the space after the
withdrawal of the height of the right-angled triangle in the circle, i.e. a quarter of the
diameter (Sophokleische Studien, p. 37). This presumes, with Overbeck (Pompeii,
pp. 119—130), that the periacti were the versure of Vitruvius. But he says distinctly,
v. 7, after having mentioned the three middle doors; ‘‘ Secundum autem ea (i.e. hos-
pitalia) (sunt) spatia ad ornatus comparata (que loca Graeci mepidxrovs vocant;’” and
then follows an explanation of the meplaxrox), ‘secundum ea loca versure sunt pro-
currentes, que eflficiens una a foro, altera a peregre aditus in scenam.” From which it
is quite clear that the verswr@ were the rapackyvia and not the 7replaxrot.

8 This view is taken by Sommerbrodt, de dsch. re Scen. p. 25; Geppert, Altgr.
Biihne, p. 100; Strack, Altgr. Theat. p. 4; Streglitz, Beitr. zw Gesch. d. Bank. 1.

236 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

This opinion has been derived from the words of Pollux}. But if this
had been the case, the name would surely have been vzroXoyetor,
not vrocxnwov, and the analogy of émvcxyviov, which denotes the
third story of the scene, when there was one, would lead at once
to the conclusion that tzocxnviov must denote the lower story of
the scene itself. Besides, Pollux is here speaking of the scene,
for he immediately afterwards mentions the three doors; and, as he
says that the drooxnviov was adorned with columns and images,
he could hardly have been speaking of the temporary substructure
of the Aoyetov. In the monuments which represent the Aoyetov
during the performance of a piece, it seems to be ornamented with
candelabra and fillets of wool, or such other decorations as might
be painted on the wood (see Fig. 3). That the lower part of the

tteov oce

e
6

Fig. 3.

.
scene itself was adorned with images and columns we know from
Vitruvius and from the inscription at Patara’. It is also clear that

p. 178; Genelli, Theat. z. Ath. p. 47. The right view is taken by Schénborn,
p- 10r.

1 iv. $124: 7d 6é trockijvov Kloot kal dyaduatios Kexdounro mpds 7d CéaTpov
TeTpapupévor, bd bé Noyelov Keiuévor.

2 Wieseler, Theatergeb. Taf. 111. 18, IX. 14.

3 Vitruv. v. 6; Bickh, C. J. No. 4283: ri ray dvdpidvrwv kal dyadudrwv davd-
sTacw,

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. O37

Pollux uses v7d with the accusative to signify “behind” rather
than “under!,” so that vd Noyetoy Keiwevov means “ lying behind
the stage.”’ And for the same reason we must understand a cham-
ber in the lower story of the scene, where we read that Asopodorus
heard the applause given to one of the flute-players, being himself
in the vrooxnvov?, or that Phocion used to walk behind the scene
when the audience was assembling’.

As a general rule the action in a Greek drama was supposed to
take place in the open air. In the earliest and rudest exhibitions
the hero came forth from a wooden tent or hut (exnv7) to the stage
before it, which was originally and properly termed “the space
before the tent’? (zpooxnviov), and there narrated his adventures
or conversed with the chorus. ‘l’his condition was imposed on the
dramatist in the most perfect state-of his art, and all the dialogue,
in the regular development of an ancient play, is supposed to be
carried on in some place more or less public. It might however be
necessary to display to the eyes of the spectators some action
which belonged to the interior or had just taken place behind the
scene. Tor example, in the Agamemnon of Auschylus, the chorus
on hearing the death-cry of the king proposes to rush in at once,
and bring the matter to the proof while the sword is still wet
(v. 1318). And immediately afterwards we see Clytemnestra
standing where she had slain her husband (v. 1346).. This change
of scene to the interior was not effected, as it is with us, and as
other changes of scene were effected by the Greeks, namely, by
substituting a fresh pictorial background, but by pushing forward
the chamber itself to the stage. Had they merely removed the
curtain and shown a recess, such as seems to have been constructed
in the smaller Roman theatres‘, the interior would have appeared
dark in comparison with the day-light of the stage, and the
spectators in the great theatres, especially those seated at the side,
could not have seen what was going on. ‘l’o obviate this difficulty

Viv. § 128: delxvuoe ra bard thy oKxnvyy ev rails olxlas dwéppnra mpaxbévta. Cf,
Schol. Aisch. Lumen. 47: 7a brd thy oxnvjy, ‘what is going on behind the scene.”

2 Athen. XIV. p. 531 F: duarpl8wv adrds év TG brockyuly.
3 Plutarch, V. Phoc. v.: tov Pwxlwvd pace wAynpoupévou Tod Oedrpov wepirareiv bd
oKnyiy.

4 This recess is clearly indicated in the remains of the theatre at Pompeii, as
given in the subjoined illustration (Fig. 4).

238 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

/Eschylus! contrived a movable chamber, corresponding to the
size of the door in the scene which was opened to exhibit the
interior, and this chamber, according as it was merely pushed out
or rolled out on wheels, was called the é&dotpa or éxxvednpa?.
These words are often used as synonyms*. But as the word
éEdotpa, in its military sense, denoted one of those boarding-
bridges, which were thrust forth from the besiegers’ tower to the
battlements of the enemy‘, and as the same word in later Greek
denoted a balcony projecting from the upper story of a house®, it
may be inferred that, as distinguished from the éxcvednua, the
é£sorpa was generally used in those cases when the interior of an
upper chamber was exhibited. It may however have been used
also on the level of the stage, when a complete development of
the interior was not required. With regard to the éxc’«Anpa in
particular, it is clear from the description in the grammarians, that
it was a machine which moved on wheels®, and which might be
rolled out through any one of the three principal doors on the

Fig. 4.

1 Cramer, Anecd. Paris. 1. p. 19: ef pev 5h mavra Tis Aloxtdy BovrNerae Ta wepl
Tie oxnviy ebphwara mpoovéwew, exxukdypara Kal wepidxrous Kal pyxavds, éLworpas Te
kal mpookijvia Kat dtoteylas.

2 The most complete essay on these contrivances is that by C. O. Miiller, Zrsch wu.
Gruber’s Encyclop. s. v. Ekkyklema, Kleine Schriften, 1. p. 524.

3 Pollux, IV. $122: rhv 6é é&dorpay rabrov TG exxu«Ajuware voulfovow. Hesych.;
eédorpa éml ris oxiwns 7d éxx’xAnua. Schol. Aristoph. Thesm. 276: lepiy wbetrac,
Schol. Ravenn. thid.: éxxuxdetrae ert 7d Ew 7d Oecuopdpior.

4 Vegetius, de re Militari, Iv. 21.

5 “© ’Ridéerpa et Efworns, Meeniorum Projectio.” Vide Ducange and Schleusner.
® Schol. Aristoph. Acharn. 415: éxxix\nua Néyerar pnxdvnua Edhwov rpdxous Exov.

Schol. Clem. Alex. p. 11, Potter: éexxt«Anua éxddouy cxeids te barbrpoxoy exTds Tis

oKnvis, 00 oTpedomévou eddKe TH ow TA EEW pavepa ylyver0au.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 239

stage, according to the interior which it was intended to display?.
It is said to have been lofty, i.e. as high as the doorway through
which it moved, and to have had a seat upon it, in order, of course,
that the actor, who was thus produced, might ride safely during
the evolution?. It was probably a semicircular stage, the diameter
being equal to the breadth of the door through which it moved,
i.e. about sixteen feet in the case of the middle door, and it moved
on hinges like that door, to which for the moment it corresponded.
From various allusions, in which the action of the éxxU«Anpa or
€€aaTpa is metaphorically applied to the revelation or unveiling of
those things which generally are or ought to be hidden behind
a curtain’, it may be inferred that the mapaméracpa or hanging
scene was always removed before this evolution was performed.
The change of scene to the interior was supposed to affect the
chorus as well as the actors, as we see from the passage in the
Agamemnon, to which reference has been already made‘.

With regard to the exterior, the changes of scene were effected,
as we have already mentioned, by the wepiaxrou (scil. @’par) or
revolving doors in the form of a triangular prism, which stood be-
fore the side-doors on the stage, and by turning round on a pivot.
(m, m), not only indicated the different regions supposed to lie in
the neighbourhood of the scene, but were also made use of as ma-

1 Pollux, tv. § 128: xp Todro voetsOa Kal’ éExdoryy Ovpay, olovel Kad’ éxdorny
olklay,

, a 7

2 Id. ibid.: «at 7d pev éxx’xAnua éml Eiwv KYnrdOv Babpdv, S émixerrac Opivos*
Gelxvuce 6é Ta Ud oKnvav ev Tals olkiats arbppynra mpaxGevTa.

3 Cicero, de Provineiis Consularibus, 6, § 14: quibuscum jam in exostra heluatur,
antea post siparium solebat. Polyb. x1. 16, 18: ris TUxns Wowep éwirndes El riv
éidorpay dvaBiBatovans rhv vuerépay dyvoav. Clem. Alex. Protrept. p. 11, Potter:
Thy yonreiay Thy eyKexpuupévnvy abrots olov éxl oxnvijs Tod Blov rots Tis dhyelas Exxu-
KAhow Oearats. Id. Strom. vit. p. 886: ov yap éxxukdelv xph 7d mvorhpiov. Cf. Ausch.
Agam. 1145: 6 xpnopes obxer’ éx kaXuupdror érrat SeSopxws, where we have the same
thought, with a different allusion.

4 The Scholiast on Aristophanes, Nudes, 218, where Socrates is introduced as
sitting or walking (225: depoBard) on a xpeudépa, or shelf, says in explanation:
mapeyxtKrnua’ Set yap KpeudoOar Tov Dwxpdrnv ert KpeudOpas KaOnuévoy Kal Tovrov
elceNObvra Kal Oeacdpevoy avrov otrw mudécOat. KpeudOpa 5é Néyerat, dia Td OVTwWS adThy
del peréwpov elvar kpenapévnv. viv pévro Ta wepirrevovra [bya] els abriy elwPauev
drort@ecOat (i.e. such as cheeses and other stores). And on v. 132, on the words dN’
ovxi xérrw Thy Odpar, he remarks: Toro 5é mapeyxixAnua’ Se? yap adrov EOciv kal
xoWat Thv Ovpav Tod Zwxpdrovs. From these passages it is concluded, and reasonably,
as we think, by Schénborn (Scene der Hellenen, p. 347), that the mapeyxix\yua was a
practicable projection at the side of the stage. In a secondary application it meant
any thing inserted in a play, as a mimic gesticulation between the speeches (Schol.
Nub. 18, 22), or a person arbitrarily introduced (Heliodorus, dthiop. p. 265, 5: Erepov
éylyvero mapeyKixAnua Tod Spduaros 7) Xapixrea). But it cannot have denoted a
simple éxxvxAnua, as Miiller contends (Aleine Schriften, 1. p. 538).

240 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

chines for introducing suddenly sea and river-gods, and other inci-
dental apparitions! As the right-hand épépmos represented the
country road, and the left-hand that which led to the city, the
changes of scene effected by the revolutions of the right-hand 7repi-
axtos were distant views painted in perspective; while those on the
left were pictures of single objects supposed to be close at hand.
The scenery, which was regularly placed before the main scene,
was apparently painted on canvas, the framework being of solid
wood. In the Gdipus Coloneus, the grove of the Eumenides was
thus represented, and perhaps some evergreens were actually placed
on the stage. If the scene had to be changed, which was rarely the
case in Tragedy, the operation was concealed by a curtain (avAa/a),
which was drawn up through a slit between the stage and the
scene, and not, like ours, allowed to drop from above. This recep-
tacle for the curtain and the cylinder, round which it was rolled, is
plainly seen in the small theatre at Pompeii, as represented in the
annexed illustration. This difference between the ancient practice

and our own must be remembered by the student, who would

1 The following are authorities respecting the weplaxro. Vitruv. v. 7: ‘‘secun-
dum ea spatia ad ornatus comparata (que loca Graeci mepidxtous dicunt) ab eo, qued
machine sunt in iis locis, versatiles triyonos habentes.” Jul. Pollux, Iv. 126: map’
exdrepa dé rev bio Oupav Tay wept Thy wéonr, drat dbo elev dv, ula éxarépwOer, pds as
al meplaxro oupreniyacw’ 7 wey desta Ta Ew mbdews Syrovoa, h 5’ dpioTepa Ta ex
mérews’ pddhiora Ta éx Aywévos* Kal Oeovs TE Oaarrlous érdye Kal ravi’ boa éraxbéc-
Tepa byra 7] unxavh pépew divvare? el Se ériorpéporev ai weplaxror H Sekid mev dweciBer
Térov' dupirepac 5é xdpav bradddrrovat. éml Thy oxnviy dd Kyudkwv dvaBalvover.
From the use of the periacti as side-scenes, it seems most probable that they were not
let into the wall (for it is rpds ds, not apds als or év als), and from the analogy between
the employments of the replaxros and the unxav}, which was placed in the left rdpo-
dos, it may be inferred that these triangular prisms stood as represented in the plan,
between the side-entrances to the stage and the orchestra. Kolster suggests (Sopho-
kleische Studien, Pref. p. viii) that the axis of the cylinder was fixed in the lintel and
threshold of the side-door, so that the apex of the triangle stood within the wall. This
would have prevented the audience from seeing the whole of the side-scene,

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 241

understand such passages as the following (Ovid, Metamorphoses,
1. 111—114):

Sie, ubi tolluntur festis aula theatris,

Surgere signa solent, primumque ostendere vultum,

Cetera paullatim, placidoque educta tenore

Tota patent, imoque pedes in margine ponunt.
Here the reference is to the drawing up of the curtain at the end of
an act, when the figures, which were embroidered on it (Virgil,
Georg. U1. 25), were gradually displayed to the andience, the head
rising first, just as the armed men rose from the ground when Cad-
mus sowed the serpent’s teeth. Conversely, Horace says (2 Epist.
r, 159)"

Quattuor aut plures aulea premuntur in horas,

Dum fugiunt equitum turme peditumque caterve:
that is, the curtain was down, as the play was going on for four
hours or more, while the spectacle, as in one of Mr Charles Kean’s
revivals, went on as an episode in the play.

Scene-painting (cxnvoypadia, oxvaypadia) in the days of Aga-
tharchus became a distinct and highly-cultivated branch of art.
When the scene exhibited its most usual representation,—that of a
house,—the altar of Apollo Agyieus was invariably placed on the
stage near the main entrance. There are many allusions to this
both in Tragedy and Comedy?.

The theatre at Athens was well supplied with machinery calcu-
lated to produce startling effects. Besides the periact?’, which were
used occasionally to introduce a sea-deity on his fish-tailed steed,
or a river-god with his urn, there was the @eoXoyeiov, a platform
surrounded by clouds, and suspended from the top of the central
scene, whence the deities conversed with the actors or chorus.
Sometimes they were introduced near the left parodus, close to the
pervactos, by means of a crane turning on a pivot, which was called
the unyavyn?. The yépaves was a contrivance for snatching up an
actor from the stage and raising him to the @eoXoyetor ; and by the
aiwpal, an arrangement of ropes and pullies, Bellerophon or Try-
geeus could fly across the stage.

Then there was the Spovretov, a contrivance for imitating the
sound of thunder. It seems to have consisted of bladders full of

1 See e.g. Aischyl. Ayam. 1051, 6.

2 Jul. Poll. 1. 128: 4 pnxavh 5é Oeods Seixvucr Kal "Hpwas rods év dépt, Bedepo-
govras, 7 Iepcetss Kal xeirat kara Thy dpiorépav mdpodov tmrép Thy cKnviy 7d
Uyos. Hence the phrase Deus ex Machina.

DT. 6. 16

242 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

pebbles, which were rolled over sheets of copper laid out in the
vrock}via. Again, the appearance of lightning was produced by
means of a pertactos or triangular prism of mirrors placed in the
Bcoroyeiov. This was called the xepavvocxoretov. It may be in-
ferred too that either the orchestra or the stage was occasionally
supposed to represent water. Thus in the Frogs, Bacchus rows
either on or in front of the Aoyezov to the melodious croakings of
the chorus which swims around his boat.

From the enormous size of the theatre at Athens, which is said
to have contained 30,000 spectators}, it became necessary to employ
the principles of acoustics to a considerable extent. All round the
xothov were placed bell-shaped vessels of bronze, called nyeta,
placed in an inverted position, and resting on pedestals, which
received and distributed the vibrations of sound.

The influence of the situation and peculiar construction of the
Greek theatre upon the imagination of the dramatists has been fully
shown by an accomplished scholar who visited Athens some years
since”,

Our conceptions of the manner of representation also depend
upon the twofold division of the Attic drama. We must recol-
lect the military origin of the chorus’, its employment in the
worship of Bacchus‘, the successive adoption of the lyre and the
flute as accompaniments®, the nature of the cyclic chorus®, and the
improvements of Stesichorus?7, in order to understand fully the
peculiar and otherwise unaccountable evolutions of the dramatic
chorus. We must remember also that the actor was originally a
rhapsode who succeeded the Exarchus of the dithyramb®, that he
was the representative of the poet®, who was the original Exarchus,
that he acted in a huge theatre at a great distance from the spec-
tators, and that he often had to sustain more than one part in the
same piece; all this we must recollect, if we would not confound
the functions of Polus with those of Macready.

» The first remark with regard to the chorus will explain to us

1 Plato, Sympos. 175 £. See, however, Wordsworth’s Athens ‘and Attica, pp. 92
sqq.

2 See Wordsworth’s Athens and Attica, pp. 94 foll.

3 Above, pp. 27 foll. 4 Above, p. 35.
5 Above, p. 34. 5 Above, p. 36.
8

Above, p. 37, note (5).
Above, p. 60, and elsewhere. * Above, p. 59.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 243

the order and manner in which the choreute made their entry.
The chorus was supposed to be a lochus of soldiers in battle-array?.
In the dithyrambic or cyclic chorus of fifty, this military arrange-
ment was not practicable; but when the original choral elements
had become more deeply inrooted in the worship of Bacchus, and
the three principal Apollonian dances were transferred to the wor-
ship of that god?, the dramatic choruses became like them quadran-
gular, and were arranged in military rank and file’. The number
of the tragic chorus for the whole Trilogy appears to have been
fifty; the comic chorus consisted of twenty-four. The chorus of the
Tetralogy was broken into four sub-choruses, two of fifteen, one of
twelve, and a satyric chorus of eight, as appears from the distribu-
tion in the remaining Trilogy*. When the chorus of fifteen entered
in ranks three abreast, it was said to be divided cata Gvya: when
it was distributed into three files of five, it was said to be cata
atoiyous. The same military origin explains the fact that the
anapestie metre was generally, if not always, adopted for the
opening choral song; for this metre was also used in the Greek
marching songs®. The muster of the chorus round the Thymele,
shows that the chorus was Bacchic as well as military; the mixture
of lyric and flute music points to the same union of two worships®;
and in the strophic and antistrophic form of most of the choral odes,
we discern the traces of the choral improvements of Stesichorus.

Again, with regard to the actor, when we remember that he was
but the successor of the Exarchus, who in the improvements of
Thespis spoke a mpodoyos before the chorus came on the stage, and
held a pjows, or dialogue, with them after they had sung their
choral song’, we shall see why there was always a soliloquy or a
dialogue, in the first pieces of the more perfect Tragedies, before the
chorus came on®. The actor’s connexion with the rhapsode is also
a reason for the narrative character of the speeches and dialogues,
and for the general absence of the abrupt and vehement conversa-
tions which are so common in our own plays.

1 Miiller, Zumeniden, § 12. 2 Above, p. 28.
3 Miiller, Zumeniden, § 5. 4 Td. ibid. § 1 foll.
5 Id. tbid. § 16. 6 Td. ibid. § 18.

7 See above, p. 60, and p. rol.

8 The Supplices and Perse of Aischylus, which are the only two plays that begin
with an anapestic march, were not the first plays of the Trilogies to which they
belonged.

16—2

244 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

But, independently of any peculiarities of a literary nature, the
great size of the theatre}, and the religious character of the festival,
gave occasion for some very remarkable differences between the
outward appearance and costume of the ancient actors, and those
who sustain parts in the performances of the modern drama. These
differences consisted mainly in the two following particulars: (a) the
tragic actor was always raised on soles of enormous thickness,
which gave additional height to his person, while his body and
limbs were also stuffed and padded to a corresponding size, and his
head was surmounted by a colossal mask suited to the character
which he bore; and (b) every performer, whatever his character
might be, was uniformly arrayed in the gay and gaudy attire of
the Dionysian festival. We will consider these peculiarities sepa-
rately, because they spring from distinct causes; for the thick
soles and the mask were due to the size of the theatre, and the
festal dress to the religious nature of the solemnities. With regard
to both of these peculiarities we have abundant authorities in
ancient works of art. Masks of every description are repeated in
pictures and sculptures, and figures arrayed in the theatrical dress
are to be met with everywhere. We have also representations of
complete scenes from the different kinds of dramas, especially,
however, from Comedies; and, by great good fortune, we have
rescued from the ruins of time, in all the brightness of the original
colouring, not only a series of twenty-two pairs of figures repre-
senting performers in 'T'ragedies, followed by a similar pair from
a Satyric Drama, but also the three actors accompanied: by the
chorus. The former are given in a number of hexagonal
Mosaics, which were found at Lorium in Etruria, where Anto-
ninus Pius was brought up and where he died, and which are
now let into the modern Mosaic pavement of an octagonal room of
the Pio-Clementine Museum at Rome called the Saloon of the
Muses’. ‘The latter representation was discovered in a grotto, on
one side of the Necropolis of Cyrene, the four walls of which are
covered with well-preserved paintings representing the dramatic
and other entertainments, which the deceased had exhibited in his

* See Dr Wordsworth’s remarks, Athens and Attica, p. 92.

? This mosaic is fully described by Millin, Description d'une Mosaique Antique du
Musée Pio-Clementine & Rome representant des Scenes de Tragédies, Paris, 1829. See
also Miiller, (tt. Gell. Anz. 1831, pp. 1234 sqq.; Wieseler, Z'heatergeb. pp. 48 sqq.
Some specimens of the figures are given in the accompanying plate (3).

(i) it

rH CYRENAIC PICTURE.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 245

life-time, or which had been given on occasion of his funeral}.
By the aid of these ancient authorities we can describe the attire
of a Greek actor as accurately as if we were detailing the cos-
tume of a performer on the modern stage.

. We shall first discuss (a) those peculiarities of the theatrical
costume, which were designed to increase the stature of the actor
and to give greater distinctness to his features when seen from a
distance, and then (}) illustrate the festal attire in which he
walked the stage.

(2) The thick-soled boot, worn by hunters, and others who
had to walk over rough and tangled ground, was called the cothur-
nus (xoOopvos), and does not appear to have been different from the
apBvry or pero. At least Agamemnon, who enters the orchestra
in a mule-car, has his apSvras taken off before he mounts the
stage by the rropdupoctpwtos topos, laid for him by Clytem-
nestra?, and Hippolytus is said to have stept into his chariot all
booted as he was (avtaiow apBvAaow)3. The adoption of this form
of boot was not primarily occasioned by the necessity of giving the
actor a more elevated stature. The incident mentioned by Hero--
dotus* shows that the cothurnus was an effeminate chaussure, and
it is clear that it formed a part of the costume of the worshippers
of Bacchus, who imitated the half-womanly character of their
divinity. The upper leather was highly ornamented® and laced

1 See J. R. Pacho, Relation d’un Voyage dans la Marmorique, la Cyrenaique, &e.
Paris, 1827, Pl. xurx. and Lu. ef. Miiller, Handbuch d. Arch. § 425, 2; Creuzer,
Deutsch. Schrift. zur Archiol. Vol. 111. 499; Wieseler, Theatergeb. pp. 99 sqq. The
figures are given with the colouring in the accompanying plate (4).

2 Aisch. Agam. 917:

aN’ €f Soke? cor Tadd’ bral Tis apBvras

vor Taxos mpddovAcv EuBacw Todds.
3 Eurip. Hippol. 1188:

pdprre. 5é xepolv nulas am’ dvrvyos,

at’ratow apBiiacw apudcas médas.
41.125. Hence Aristoph. Ran. 47: Tl KdPopvos kal poradov EvyndOérnpy ;
° See fig. 6; and compare fig. 15, p. 253.

246 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

down the front, but the thickness of the sole seems to have re-
quired that for ordinary purposes the buskin should not fit closely
to the foot}, so that the name «oOopvos was adopted as a designation
of Theramenes, who was regarded as a turn-coat or trimmer in
in polities’. But although the ordinary «dOopves or apBid had
a very thick sole against which stones and other obstacles struck
with a ringing sound as the passenger stumped along the road’,
it bore no comparison in this respect to the tragic buskins. Their
enormous and extravagant height may be seen in the accom-
panying figure of the Tragic Muse, and is singularly shown

Fig. 7.

in the two monuments which are our principal authorities for the
costume of the Greek drama. In the Pio-Clementine Mosaic,
as Millin well remarks‘, the figures seem at first sight to have no

1 See the story of Alemzon, who made his cothurni, like the jackboots of Hudi-
bras, serve as an additional pocket for his gold. Herod. vi. 125.

2 Xen. Hell. 11. 3, § 31: 80ev Shrov Kal KbBopvos émcxadetrar” Kal yap 6 KéBopvos
apydrrew pev Tots Tool duporépas Soxet, droBdérer 5 ex’ dudérepov.

3 Theocrit. VII. 25, 26:
ws TED tool vevtoopévolo
maoa NlOos mralowa ror’ apBud\lbecow aeider.

4 P. 16: ‘On diroit qu’ils n’ont pas de pieds; ils ont l’air de ces mariouettes que

l’on proméne & travers les fentes des planches d’un théatre, et dont les fils qui les font
mouvoir sont dessous, au lien d’étre dessus.”

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 247

feet, but resemble the marionettes which are worked from below.
On a closer examination, however, we observe that the feet of the
actors are covered by their long robes, and that we only see the
high soles on which they are elevated. For in one of the figures
(No. xvuit. see the accompanying plate, No. 3), where a woman in
a state of great agitation is rushing in to announce some dread-
ful intelligence, one of her feet is lifted from the stage, so that
we see the bottom of the sole: and in two others (also given
in the accompanying plate), the toe of the buskin projects be-
yond the bottom of the robe. In the Cyrenaic picture the three
figures of the actors are raised on little pedestals, if Pacho’s copy is
correctly drawn, and Miiller has supposed! that the picture repre-
sents statues of actors and not the actors themselves, a supposi-
tion which is set aside by the whole composition. There can be
little doubt that these basements merely depict the soles of their
buskins, the square space in the middle being perhaps intended to
indicate the division between the two soles in each case. Ina
painting on a wall at Pompeii’, the peculiar shape of the soles
conveyed to Sir W. Gell the idea that the figures were Scythian
Hippopode! but a more exact copy, which has subsequently been
made by Wieseler*, shows that the figures merely wear a sort of
sabot or wooden shoe. That these soles of the cothurnus, which
seem to have been called éu@drau or fuBara5, were made of wood,
probably of some very light wood, if not occasionally of cork, is
distinctly stated by the Scholiast on Lucian®; and the Pio-Clemen-
tine Mosaic shows us that they were generally painted so as to
harmonize with the robe of the actor. On account, both of its
connexion with the Dionysiac attire and of its special use in giving
height and dignity to the tragic actor, the cothurnus was an emblem
of Tragedy, as the soccus was of Comedy’; the Tragic Muse is

1 Handb. d. Arch. § 425, 2.

2 This is Wieseler’s opinion, Theatergeb. p. 100.

3 Gell, Pompeii, Vol. 11. Pl. LXXxv.

4 Wieseler, Theatergeb. p. 51, and Taf. a, No. 23.

5 See Valckenaer, Ammon. p. 49.

6 Ad Jov. Trag. p. 13: éuBdras mev Ta EVKa & Baddovew bd Tods wbdas ol Tpa-
yoo, va pavdor waxpbrepot.

7 Horace, Avs Poetica, 80:

Hune socci cepere pedem grandesque cothurni.

248 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

equipped with this clumsy buskin’; and the word itself is used
by the Latin poets as a synonym for tragedia*.

In addition to the cothurnus, and the padded figure®, the tra-
gedian was increased to a colossal stature by his mask (mpocw-
metov), Which not only represented a set of features much larger
than those of any ordinary man, but was raised to a great height
above the brow by a sort of elevated frontlet or foretop (dy«os,
superficies*), rising in the shape of the letter A®, which formed the
frame of a tire or periwig (anvixn, pevaxn®), attached to the mask.

|
i
}
s)

SS pen ——s

When this head-piece was fitted on, there was only one outlet
for the voice, sometimes represented as a square, but more gene-
rally as a round opening (0s rotundum"), so that the voice might be
said to sound through it—hence the Latin name for a mask

1 Wieseler, Theatergeb. p. 52, Taf. 1x. 2. See fig. 7, p. 246.
2 Horace, 2 Carm. 1. 13:
grande munus
Cecropio repetes cothurno.
Virgil, Hclog. VIII. 10:
Sola Sophocleo tua carmina digna cothwrno.

3 Lucian, Jupiter Tragedus, it. 44; de Gymnas. 23; de Saltat. 11. 27.

4 The word byxos (cf. dyx1, dyxos, dyxvpa, &c.) refers to the curve at the top; the
Latin superficies, which also means a roof, indicates that it was over the face,

5 Pollux, tv. § 133: AaBdoedes TE ox Hware.

® Hence devaxifew, “to deceive.” See Hemsterhuis on Julius Pollux, x. § 170.

7 The mouth is square in the figures on the Pio-Clementine Mosaic, Nos. i, 3, 4,
5, Plates u. m1, Iv. ‘The size of the mouth is alluded to by Persius, v. 3: fabula seu
meesto ponatur hianda trageedo; and Juvenal, 11. 175: persone pallentis hiatum.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 249

(persona a personando'); hence also the strong expressions (Sop-
Bov, trepiBou8eév) used by the grammarians in speaking of the
voice of the tragic actor. As the holes for the eyes must have been
opposite to those of the actor, the mouth would fall below his
chin, and some contrivance must have been adopted, after the
manner of a speaking-trumpet, to produce this striking effect.
The persona muta, or dumb actor, was furnished with a mask
in which the lips were closed, as in the accompanying illustra-
tion from a painting at Pompeii.

The greatest possible care was bestowed on the fabrication of
masks ; and the manufacturer of stage costume got his name from
this part of the actor’s equipment®. It is not certainly known of
what material the mask was composed. The dyxos in the Cyrenaic
picture seems, in the case of all the three actors, to be a metal
plate, and it is not improbable that this connexion of the mask and
wig, on which they both depended, was of some stiff and solid sub-
stance. Bétticher has supposed’, on the strength of a passage in
Lucretius‘, that the masks were made of clay ; but a mask of terra-
cotta would have been much too heavy, and it is more reasonable to
infer that the poet refers to the coating of chalk with which the

1 Gabius Bassus, apud Aul. Gell. v. 7. Barth derives the word from zrept cua,
Voss from mpécwrov, Déderlein from rapacalyw, Mr Talbot from Persephone, and an
Hnglish theologian from repefdviov !

2 Pollux, Iv. 115: Kal oxev) pev } Tay broxpitev arod} (f 8 av’rh cal cwmdrrov
éxaetro), oxevorratds 6¢ 6 mpoowromotds.

3 Funemaske, p. 12.

4 Iv. 296 sqq.:

Ut si quis, prius arida quam sit
Cretea persona, adlidat pileeve trabive,
Atque ea continuo rectam si fronte figuram
Servet, et elisam retro sese exprimat ipsa,
Fiet ita, ante oculos fuerit qui dexter, ut idem
Nunc sit levus, et e levo sit mutua dexter.
It is quite clear from this that the mask was made of some substance fitted by

maceration for receiving an impression and capable of being turned inside out, which
would hardly be possible with a clay mould.

250 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

surface was overlaid in order to receive the colouring, or perhaps to
the colours themselves’. The lighter the mask the more convenient
it would be for the performer, and though the description in
Lucretius seems to be inconsistent with Millin’s conjecture that
it was made of cork’, there is no reason why it should not have
been moulded from the bark of some other tree* moistened in water,
and then modelled in a bust. The oscdlla, or heads of Bacchus,
which were imitations of the tragic mask, and which were sus-
pended from the pine-trees near a vineyard‘, in order that the
district might become fruitful, whereon the face of the god was
directed by the wind’, were most probably made of bronze or
copper; for the lighter substance would not have stood the effects
of the weather. One of the oscilla preserved in the British
Museum is of marble, and has a ring on the top for the purpose

of suspension. The masks in the Pio-Clementine Mosaic are
mostly of a swarthy colour; those in the Cyrenaic picture are
quite natural; and it is probable that a resemblance to nature was

1 As in Petronius:
Dum sumit creteam faciem Sestoria, cretam
Perdidit illa simul, perdidit et faciem.
2 Descr. d'un Mos. p. 6.
3 Virgil, Georg. 11. 387:
Oraque corticibus sumunt horrenda cavatis.
4 Id. ibid. 389:
Oscilla ex alta suspendunt mollia pinu.
5 Td. ibid. 390:
Hine omnis largo pubescit vinea fetu
Complentur vallesque cave saltusque profundi,
Et quocunque Deus circum caput egit honestum.
Creuzer supposes (Symbol. Iv. 93) that this practice referred to the purifying influence
of the wind, indicated by the worship of Bacchus Lichnites.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 251

preserved, though of course the colours were strongly pronounced
and exaggerated. It is obvious, as Miiller says!, that the masks
were sometimes changed between the acts, and that a difference
of complexion was introduced to mark the change in the condi-
tion of the character, as when Cidipus or Polymnestor returns to
the stage after the loss of his eyes*. The masks of female cha-
racters were furnished with the éyxos, as in the figure of the Tragic
Muse (fig. 7), in the parody of the Antigone (fig. 17), and in the
Pompeian picture already cited*, but the features were less exag-
gerated, and they had sometimes caps of a peculiar colour, with
hanging ribands kept down by a knob or tassel of gilded metal
called poicxos, i.e. “a little pomegranate+.”

There was a different kind of mask for almost every character.
Julius Pollux divides the tragic masks alone into twenty-six
classes®; and while he informs us that the comic masks were much
more numerous’, he specifies only four kinds of satyric masks, two
portraying satyrs with grey hair or a long beard, and two repre-
senting Sileni, as youthful or aged respectively’. The last of these
is depicted in the Pio-Clementine Mosaic, as a bald-headed, grey-
bearded mask, crowned with ivy (Pl. v. No. vit.), and the last group
on that Mosaic (Pl. xxv.) represents the Silenus in full costume,
bald-headed and crowned with ivy, though dressed in the tragic

1 Hist. of Gr. Lit. 1. p. 395.
2 These were called éxoxeva mpdowma. Pollux, Iv. § 141.

3 Gell, Pompeii, Vol. 1. Pl. uxxy., of which the following is a copy, as far as con-
cerns the female head in question :

4 Millin, Mosazque, Pl. v. No. vi1t.; Monum. Antiq. inéd. 1. 249.
> Iv. § 133 sqq-
§ Jul. Poll. rv. §§ 143—154. 7 Td. § 142.

45d ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

robe like the other figures. The accompanying groups show the
tragic, comic, and satyric masks in contrast with one another.

(b) It has been already remarked that the dress of the tragic
actors was derived from the gay festal costume of the worshippers
of Bacchus. The performers, says Miiller!, wore “long striped gar-
ments reaching to the ground (xyutaves Todypets, eTOAat), over which
were thrown upper robes ({uarva, yNapvdes) of purple or some other
brilliant colour, with all sorts of gay trimmings and gold orna-
ments, the ordinary dress of Bacchie festal processions and choral
dances. Nor was the Hercules of the stage represented as the sturdy
athletic hero whose huge limbs were only concealed by a lion’s
hide; he appeared in the rich and gaudy dress we have described,

| Miiller, 2ist, Lit. Gr. 1. p. 296. For the details and minutize of the Greek
theatrical costume, see also Miiller’s Lumeniden, § 32; Schin, De Personarum in
Euripidis Bacchabus Habitu scenico Commentatio, Lips. 1831; and Millin’s Descrip-
tion of the Pio-Clementine Mosaic. On the different styles of dress adopted by the
different characters, see Jul. Pollux, rv. 18, and for examples, compare the Introduc-
tion to the Antigone, pp. Xxxil sqq.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 253

to which his distinctive attributes, the club and the bow, were
merely added.”

The accompaning illustration contains all the elements of
this Dionysiac costume}. It represents an actor dressed in the

= at |

character of Bacchus. He does not wear the mask with its lofty
fore-top, but he is shod with the cothurnus, which has the usual
high sole, and the upper leather, which is visible, is adorned with
the most elaborate lacing. He wears on his head a chaplet of
ivy. The mutilated staff in his hand is undoubtedly a fragment
of the thyrsus*. Over a syrma, with sleeves reaching to his wrists,
he wears the usual upper robe of Bacchus fastened by a girdle. The
long garland of flowers, which hangs round his neck, is one of
the regular Bacchic adornments. By his left side is a statuette,
unfortunately mutilated, which probably represents Melpomene;
and the female figure, also imperfect, to which he turns his head,

1 It is taken from Buonarroti, Osservazioni sopra aleuni Medagli Antichi, p. 447;
Bellori, Pictur. Ant. Crypt. Rom. T. xv.; Panofka, Cabinet de Pourtales-Gorgier,
Pl, XXXVIII.

2 Pollux, Iv. 117: 6 68 xpoxwrds iudriov’ Acsvugos 82 atre éxphro kal wacxyadiorHpe
avbivyy Kat Bipow. ;

254 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

is probably a representation of Victory, who is about to place a
crown on the head of the successful actor’. On the other side
is a boy playing the éwixuv, and probably the same as the
performer who accompanied him on the stage. The curtain in
the background seems to indicate that the actor is receiving this
public recognition as he sits enthroned on the proscenium.

As the general costume of the tragic performers was thus fixed
by the conventions of the Bacchic festival, the discrimination of
the character represented depended on the expression of the mask,
on certain adjuncts, and partly on the colour of the dress. It was
only Euripides who ventured to allow his tragic heroes to appear
in rags, and he incurred, by this departure from Bacchic magni-
ficence, the keenest ridicule of his comic contemporaries. The
other dramatists contrived that every character should be consistent
with the dignity and splendour of the festal occasion, with which
the exhibition was connected. The adjuncts, which marked the
different characters, were very simple, and might be recognized
at once. Of the attributes of Hercules we have already spoken.
He has both the club and the bow in the Pio-Clementine Mosaic
(Pl. vi. Wieseler, vit. 2), but the club alone in the same Mosaic
(Pl. vin. Wieseler, No. 3), in the Cyrenaic picture, and in the
following illustration from a bas-relief in the Villa Albani.

Fig. 16.

Mercury has simply a caduceus in the Pio-Clementine Mosaic
(Pl. x.) and in the Cyrenaic picture. The figure in the act of
shooting with a bow and arrow at a man bearing an unsheathed
poignard (Millin, Pl. rx. Wieseler, vu. 4) probably represents

1 Miiller, Handb, d. Arch. § 425, 2

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 255

Hercules in the act of slaying Lycus*. The royal tragic costume
is marked by the long sceptre borne in the left hand’, and by
a sword with its pvxns3 at the end of the scabbard (Millin, p.
21, Pl. x1. Wieseler, #42). It is difficult to say what is the
distinguishing object in some of the figures in the Mosaic‘, but
the first is obviously a young female figure with a torch” in each
hand; and may fairly be identified with the Cassandra of the
Troades. In one group (Millin, Pl. xxv. Wieseler, vitr. 3) a
figure is introduced bearing a branch of olive as a suppliant, and
it is not improbable, as Millin has suggested (p. 28), that the
scene represented is that in the Supplices of Euripides, when
Adrastus appeals to Authra the mother of Theseus. In the picture
from Pompeii, to which reference has been already made ( Wieseler,
vul. 12), a heroine bearing a child in swaddling clothes, is ad-
dressing a female domestic, who carries a water-jug in her right
hand. That Antigone, both in the prologue and when she is
brought before Creon, carries in her hand the prochus or pitcher,

WS)
br

1 The drawn dagger indicates the murderous purpose of the person about to be
slain. See Eurip. Herc. F. 735 sqq.
2 Ovid, Amorum, II. 1. 11 sqq.:
Venit et ingenti violenta Tragcedia passu:
Fronte come torva; palla jacebat humi;
Leva manus sceptrum late regale tenebat ;
Lydius alta pedum vinela cothurnus erat.

3 Herod 11. 64.

4 In Pl. 15, Wieseler, vil. 10, the male figure seems to carry in his left hand the
red sheath of the dagger which he bears in his right; and the female figure, who is
bending her knee in the act of supplication, is perhaps Clytemnestra, at the moment
when Orestes threatens her with death.

5 vv. 308 sqq.:

dvexe, mdapexe, Pos dépe céBw, Pr€yw,
l5ov, tdovd
Naperdar 745° lepdy,

256 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

with which she poured forth the triple libations round the dead
body of her brother!, is most probable in itself, and is confirmed
by a ludicrous parody of the latter scene, in which an old and
bald-headed man, dressed up as Antigone, and bearing an exagger-
ated hydria, pulls off his female mask at the moment when Creon
is about to sentence the supposed culprit to death?. (See fig. 17.)
With regard to the colours of the tragic dress, the three figures in
the Cyrenaic painting are mainly attired in blue and_ yellow.
The protagonist, who represents Hercules, has his garments elabo-
rately ornamented, the Mercury has his blue robe adorned with
‘rings of gold and sprigs of olive, and the third figure, besides
the admixture of blue and yellow in his dress, has some pink
figures embroidered on it. They have all girdles in which pink
is the prevailing colour. Both the female characters im the scene
with the child év orapyavos have garments of a bluish greens.
There is more variety in the colours on the Pio-Clementine Mosaic,
but most of them have transversal bars of purple or gold (called
paso. tapvpal*) on the sleeves and bodies of their upper garments.
This band sometimes appears also as the refis® or lower border
of the chiton. In one of the groups, where a tyrant, with threatening
mien, is addressing a prisoner, who stands before him with droop-
ing head and his hands bound behind his back, the former has
a bright red dress without any stripes, bound round his waist with
a golden girdle’. The attire of mourning, when the character was
represented as suffering under some special calamity, was for a
woman a black gown with a pale green or quince-yellow upper
robe’, and for a man, if he was an exile, soiled white robes, or

1 Introduction to the Antigone, p. xxxii.

2 Gerhard, Ant. Bildwerke, Taf. uxxit.; Panofka, Annali dell’ Inst. Arch. Vol.
XIX, pp. 216 sqq.; Welcker, Gerhard’s Arch. Ztg. N. F. 1848, pp. 333 sqq.; Wieseler,
Theatergeb. p. 55, Pl. 1x. No. 7.

3 Wieseler, T'heatergeb. p. 52: ‘Beide Personen haben einen blaugriinlichen
Chiton.”

4 Pollux, vit. § 53: al pwévro ev rots xirGou moppupat pdBiac mapugpal Kadoivrat.
Hesych. rapugy 7 év TG yur Gut woppupa.

® Pollux, vit. § 62; wa 5é 7d eEwrdrw Tod xurGvos Exarépwhev,—ai 5é mapa Tas was
wapupal kadovvrar wéfac Kal re(loes.

5 Like the philosopher Lysias, who being elected crowned priest of Hercules,
became ¢& luarlov rvpavvos, i.e. as soon as he laid aside his ordinary upper garment
and assumed the tragic chlamys; for he is described as roppupotv péev jweodd\euKov
xirava évdeduxws, xAaplda dé epeorpiia mepiBeBnudvos modvredH (Atheneus, Vv.
p. 215 B, 0). ;

7 Pollux, tv. § 118: ris év cuppopg 6 pev cuprds pédas, 7d dé érlBdynwa yAavKov
H whdwov.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 24

generally garments of black or dark brown, or quince yellow, or
with a shade of olive-green!. The black or at least a very dark robe
is plainly seen in the Mosaic (Pl. xrx. Wieseler, vit. 2), and the
pale green upper robe in the figure, which Mercury is conducting
to the grave (Pl. x. Wieseler, vir. 5). Pollux mentions especially
a net-like woollen robe (@ypnvov) as worn by Teiresias and other
soothsayers?, and a bulging robe («oA7r@pa) as worn by kings over
their variegated under-dress3, which from the word used must have
been confined by the girdle*, and may have been the projections
before the breast and the stomach mentioned by Lucian’, The
upper garment was not properly an (uatioy thrown over the left
shoulder and brought back under the right arm according to the
tert dé&1a avaBory, but a sort of xrapvs, eharris, épertpis, oY
émi@opTrawa, fastened with a clasp on the shoulder like a soldier’s
cloak or wrapper. The general name for it was éw/@Anua, and

the clasp on the shoulder was one of its special marks®. There
are many allusions in the classical Tragedies to this feature in
the dramatic attire. When an actor divests himself of his upper

1 § 117: of & & dvcruxlas Svres } NevKa Svorwy elxov, uddLoTa ol puyddes, 7} Pad
7 Bédava 7 unrwa 7 yavxwa.

2 § 116: 7d 8 qv wréypa ef Epiwy Suxruddes wepl wav 7d cGua, 8 Tetpecias éreBdd-'
Aero 7 Tis GAXos dvTis.

3 Tbid.: xdArwua 5 brep ra moixitha évedéduvro oi ’Atpeis Kal of "Ayauduvoves Kal
bc0t ToLodro..

4 As in the epithet BadvxoAzos.

5 De Saltat. 27: €& Néyew mpoorepvidia cal mpoyacrplica. The whole of Lucian’s
description of the tragic actor is worth reading by the student.

6 Athenzus, XII. p. 535 E: 6 5€ YexeNlas r’pavvos Aroviawos tvorlda Kal xpucoiv
orépavoy éwl mepdvy meredduBave Tparycxor.

Dit iG. 17

258 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

garment he is said to throw off his clasped robe’. It is with
the tongues of the buckles from his wife’s dress that Cidipus puts
out his own eyes*, and with the same instrument Hecuba and
her attendants blind Polymestor’.

The dress of the chorus was in accordance with the personages
represented; and although it was different in kind from that of
the actors, the choragus took care that it was equally splendid.
But as the actors represented heroic characters, whereas the chorus
was merely a deputation from the people at large, and in fact stood
much nearer to the audience, the mask was omitted, and while the
actors wore the cothurnus, the chorus appeared either bare-footed,
as in the Cyrenaic picture, or in their usual sandals.

The comic actors for the same reason were content with the
soccus or thin-soled buskin (Figs. 19, 20), and their mask had no

Fig. 19. Fig. 20. Fig. 21. Fig. 22.

oyxos (Figs. 21, 22); but the mpoowmoroids made up for the lack
of this exaggeration by an extravagant ugliness in the features of
most of the characters, which set nature completely at defiance‘.

1 Eurip. Herc. F. 959: yuuvov cua Oels ropraydrwv, Electr. 820: plyas dn’
www ebtperh mwoprduara,
2 Sophocles, Wd. 7. 1269.
% Eurip. Zee. 1170: éuav yap dupdrwv
mépmas NaBotoa Tas TahaiTwpous Kdpas
Kevrotow, aludoocovew.

* The most accessible specimen of the old comic costume is furnished by the
puppet “Punch.” It has not been noticed that his name, as well as his form, may
be traced to a classical origin. ‘‘Punch” and “ Punchinello” are corruptions of the
Italian Pulcino and Puleinello, which are representatives of the contemptuous diminu-
tive pulchellus. This epithet may be applied to little figures (Cie, Fam. vit. 23), and
our own phrase “‘ pretty Poll,” addressed to the parrot, may show how easily such a
vroxépicua may be suggested by the pleasure which results from petty imitations. In
the same way, the Greeks called the ape kaNds, or ka\Xlas (Bickh ad Pind. P. m1,
v. 72), and it is not improbable that the same or a similar epithet was given to the
masked and padded actors in the pantomimie shows of ancient Greece and Italy.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 259

In the Old Comedy, as Pollux tells us!, the mask was for the
most part a caricature of the person represented; but in the New
Comedy there was a regular mask for every conventional charac-
ter, the old man in particular having no less than ten types of
countenance?. ‘There is a superabundance of monuments repre-
senting the scenes of the New Comedy. Indeed, there is an illus-
trated manuscript of Terence’, which is probably at least as old as
the sixth century, and may have been copied from one still more
ancient, and statues, reliefs, and paintings exhibit the comic actors
of the later stage in every character and in all varieties of posture.
Ina marble bas relief, supposed to represent the second scene of
the fifth act of Terence’s Andria‘, an angry master, who is about
to commit his slave to the tender mercies of a Jorarius, is pacified
by a friend of similar age. The figure of the supposed Simo is
given in the annexed illustration.

The slave is always distinguished by a singular deformity in
the mouth. The sitting figure, which is here subjoined, is fre-
quently repeated in ancient statues’, and exhibits the peculiarity
of the slave’s mask, to which we refer. From the ring on the
finger of one of the repetitions of this comic character, and from

1 ty. $143: Ta 5é Kwpika mpdowra, TA ev THs Tadads Kwumdlas ws 7d woNd Tots
mpoowmos Gv exwupdouv dmeikdfero 7 él TO yedoubTEpov EoXnaTICTO.

2 Pollux, tv. $$ 143 sqq.

3 See Wieseler, Theatergeb. pp. 63 sqq. Taf. x. Nos 2—7, from a MS, in the
Vatican at Rome; No. 8, from a MS. in the Ambrosian Library at Milan.

4 Mus. Borb. Vol. 1v. T. xxiv.; Wieseler, Taf. x1. No. 1.

5 See Wieseler, Theaterg. Taf. x1. Nos. 8, 9, 10, 11, and Taf. x11. No. 5. The
figure (24) given in the following page is in the British Museum, and is engraved
in Anc. Marb. in the Br. Mus, Part X. Pl. Xutt.

17—2

260 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

the crown on his head, it is inferred that he represents a drunken
slave, probably in the Aaxrdduos of Menander, or in the Condalium

of Plautus!, which was borrowed from it; and this inference is
strengthened by the appearance of a similar figure in a scene
represented on a terra-cotta relief, which is found in two private
collections at Rome. Here a bearded figure, in an attitude like
that in the above illustration, is seated on an altar, and two other
figures, resembling the conventional old man of the New Comedy,
appear to have feed in angry altercation with him. It is natural
then to conclude that we have some such scene as that in the
Mostellaria (v. 1. 45):

Ego interim hine aram occupabo,
and (v. 54):

Sic tamen hine consilium dedero; nimio plus sapio sedens ;

Tum consilia firmiora sunt de divinis locis.

And the ring, if it does not refer to the Condaliwm, on which the

1 Varro, L. Levu. § 77. Accius says it was not written by Plautus, A. Gell.
WN. A. ur.3. The Sota seems to have been a kind of ring peculiar to slaves,
Plaut. Trin. tv. 3. 7. The word is derived from xévduNos.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 261

play of Menander turned, may have been stolen like that in the
Curculio of Plautus (11. 3. 81)’.

Of the dresses in the Old Comedy we have no monumental
illustrations?, but the allusions in Aristophanes tell us how extra-
vagant they must have been, and in what unrestrained obscenity
the poet and his patrons indulged. The numerous scenes from the
New Comedy, which are still preserved in ancient works of art,
show that though the language became more reserved and better
regulated, the eyes of the audience were not treated with much
respect. The actors often wore harlequinade dresses, with trowsers
fitting close to the leg, and with protuberances and indecent
appendages, indicating clearly enough the phallic origin of Greek
Comedy.

The most interesting examples of the costume of Comedy are
furnished by two pictures representing scenes of a very similar
character, one of which has been referred to a PAvaE Tpayixos, or
tragic foolery of Rhinthon®; and the other to the Althea of Theo-
pompus, a poet of the Middle Comedy‘. In the former of these,
Jupiter, attended by Mercury, is about to climb to the chamber of
Alemena, who is looking out of a window in full dress as an
hetera®, Jupiter, who has a bearded mask with a modius on his
head like Serapis, is bearing a ladder, with his head between the

1 This interpretation is due to Visconti, Mus. Pio-Clem. Tom. It. p. 37.

2 The representation of the first scene of the Frogs of Aristophanes, on a painted
vase (Gerhard, Denkm. n. Forsch. 1849, Taf. 11. No. 1; Wieseler, Theatergeb. A, 25),

is hardly an exception, for it does not correspond to the text, and is obviously a later
production.

3 Winckelmann, Monwm, inéd. P.1. No. 190; Miiller, Denkméiler d. alt. Kunst, 11.
Pl. 1. No. 49; Wieseler, Taf. 1x. 11.

4 Panofka, Cab. Pourtalés, Pl. x.; Wieseler, Taf. 1x. 12.

5 She wears an ornamented cap or wltpa, which is referred to this character by
Pollux, Iv. § 154: 7 5é dudmerpos (éralpa) uirpe mockldy Thy Kepadhv xarel\nmra. Cf.

Servius ad Verg. din. tv. 216; Juvenal, Sat. 111. 66: ite quibus grata est picta lupa
barbara mitra.

262 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

steps. Mercury has his eaduceus in his left hand, and bears a lamp
in his right. He is also distinguished by his petasos and his
chlamys. All the details of the picture point to circumstances of
common occurrence in Greek comedies, with whom the potyds Zevs
was a favourite character. The ladder is expressly mentioned by
Xenarchus, a poet of the Middle Comedy?, and the window, which
in correct drawing should be at a much greater height from the
ground, represents the opening in the upper story of the stage from
which the hetera was frequently represented as looking down upon
her lover’. It is worthy of remark that both Jupiter and Mercury
are represented as bare-footed. In the other picture, which pro-
bably represents a similar nocturnal visit paid by Bacchus to
Althea in the Comedy of Theopompus‘, a female dressed like the
Alemena of the other scene, is looking out of a window, while
a comic figure with mask, socci, and other appendages, is climbing
the ladder to reach her. He wears a chaplet on his head, and
while he presents Althea with “the apples of Dionysus®,” i.e.
quinces, as an offering of love, he carries in his other hand a red
band for her hair®. His bare-footed attendant has in his left hand
a flambeau and a crown of myrtle, and in his right a little box
(xadicKos), containing some present for the lady. Althzea was the
wife of CEneus, and the chaplets of vine-leaves, which adorn the
wall of the house, are very appropriate to his name as the man of
the vineyard. The colours of the pictures are an interesting
feature in the costume. The crowns on the heads of the figures
are white?. The cwpartcov of the man on the ladder is a brownish
red, his sleeves and leggings are of a bright brown. The other

1 Bergk, de Relig. Com. Att. p. 287.

2 Meineke, m1. p. 617: wh KNiuaxa ornoduevoy elaBiva AdApg.

3 Pollux, Iv. § 130: év 5¢ kwuwole axd THs SusTeylas ropydBockol Te KaTomwrevouct 7
ypaiia % yivaca karaBrére. Cf. Vitruv. V. 6, 9.

4 This Comedy is cited by Athen. x1. p. 501 F; Pollux, 1x. § t80. That Bacchus
used to go as comast or reveller to the house of Althea is known from Eurip. Cyclops,
37 sqq-:

pay Kpéros otxwrldwy
duos tpiv vov Te xeTE Baxxly
Kapow cuvacrivovres ’ANOaias Sépous
mpocyT dodais PapBirwy cavrovpevot ;

5 Theocr. 1. 120: pada pev & Kddrotot Awwicoo puddccwy. 1. 10: qvide Tou
déxa pada pépw.

6 Miiller, Handb. d. Arch. § 340, 4.

7 This was the proper colour for a loving serenader; Theocr. I. 121: kparl &
éxwv Netxav, ‘Hpaxdéos lepov Epvos.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 263

man is dressed entirely in yellow, and this is the colour of the robe
in the picture, which represents a comic performer in the act of
being masked and dressed by Bacchus?. The soccus as a general
rule seems to have been yellow’.

The choruses of Aristophanes were arrayed in fantastic cos-
tumes more or less expressive of the allegorical caricature which
they represented. Thus the Birds had masks with huge open
beaks, and the Wasps flitted about the orchestra protruding enor-
mous stings.

That the dresses of the actors in the satyrical drama did not differ
in kind from those of the performers of the chief parts in the Trage-
dies, which they followed, is an obvious inference, and the fact is
established by the last group in the Pio-Clementine Mosaic, which
represents an actor accompanied by one of the chorus of satyrs,
seen at a distance or ina diminutive form. There is also a painting
on a vase in the Museo Borbonico at Naples’, which gives us not
only the three actors in a satyrical drama, but a chorus of eleven,
two musicians, one playing on the flute, the other a citharist, and
the leader of the chorus, who is called Demetrius. In the midst
Bacchus is reclining on a bed, with Kora-Ariadne in his arms; and
the Muse, with a mask in her hand, is sitting at the end of the bed,
attended by Himeros. Of the three actors, one is attired in the
full tragic costume ; another, who represents Hercules, has a highly
decorated tunic, which, however, is shorter than the usual syrma;
the third actor, who represents Silenus, has a closely-fitting, hairy
dress, and bears a panther’s skin on his left shoulder. The cho-
reute, with the exception of one who is handsomely dressed, and
another, who has ornamented drawers, like our mountebanks*, have
goat-skins about their loins with phallic appendages, but are other-
wise naked. The same fashion of dressing the choreute in nothing
except shaggy aprons is observable in a very beautiful Mosaic
found at Pompeii, a copy of which is subjoined®. This picture in-

1 Mus. Borbon. Vol. 11. Tav. 1v.; Wieseler, Taf. X. 1.

2 Miiller, Handb. d. Arch. § 388, 2.

3 Monum. ined. dell’ Inst. di Corrisp. Arch. Vol. 111. T. xx1.; Wieseler, Taf. v1.
No. 2, p. 47.

4 These drawers are worn by the satyric choreute on Tischbein’s vase (Wieseler,
VI. 3), and by the satyric citharist on Laborde’s vase (Wieseler, vI. 5).

5 Gell, Pompeii, New Series, Vol. 1. Pl. xtv.; Mus. Borbon. Vol. u. T. LvI.;
Wieseler, Taf. vi. 1. The accompanying engraving (fig. 26, p. 264), which is taken
from the Museo Borbonico, is not quite accurate; for there are only two masks before
the teacher, the third being on the table behind him.

264 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

troduces us to the yoprysov or SiSacKadctov, which was probably in
one of the parascenia or green-rooms of the theatre, just as the

chorodidascalus is giving the last instructions to the choreute and
actors, before the commencement of the satyric drama for which
they are dressing. Seated on a chair he is addressing one of the
two choreute before him, and apparently teaching him how to
manage his hands. One of these choreute has not yet put on his
mask, the other has raised it that he may the better observe his
teacher. As the roll of paper, which the chorodidascalus holds in
his left hand, is folded up, we infer that he has already gone through
the text of the play. Near the center of the picture we have a
flute-player tuning his double flute. He is probably the yopav-
dys, who accompanied the chorus, and this name was inscribed on the
base of the statue (fig. 27) found on the Appian way. This instru-
mental performer is crowned with green and yellow leaves, and his
long gown is white, with blue stripes running from the top to the
bottom. Over his breast and shoulders and down to his hips he
has a trimming of violet with reddish crosses or stars. This trim-

1 Pollux, Iv. § 106: yoprycov 6 rézros ot ] mapacKevh Tod xopod. Cf. IX. S$ 41, 42.
Bekk. Anecd. 72, 17: xopnyetov: 6 réros &v0a 6 Xopnyos Tovs Te xopods Kal rods
imoxpiras cuvdywv cuvexpbre. We learn from Antiphon (de Choreut. $ 11, p. 143)
that the d.dacKaXelovy was sometimes in the choragus’ own house: mp@rov pey bidacKa-
Aelov 7H Av émirndetbrarov THs éuis olklas karecxevaca. But we are disposed to agree
with Magnin (Revue d. d. Mond. T. xx. p. 257): quelque fat d’ailleurs le lieu ot
Ton commengit des exercices, on les terminait au théAtre, dans une pitce des para-
scenia ou du postscenium appelée xopayetor.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 265

ming is probably the é6y6ou8o0i mentioned by Photius!. By the
side of the flute-player one of the actors is advancing probably to

take the mask, which the teacher is raising with his right hand.
Another actor, who has already received his mask which lies beside
him on the table, is fittmg on his chiton with the aid of a servant.
The mask of the Silen, which lies at the foot of the teacher, indi-
cates a third part; and unless we suppose that this part is to be
undertaken by one of the two actors already present, we must con-
clude that, as only two of the choreutz are still in the room, the
third actor has not yet made his appearance. The gowns of both
the actors are bright blue with stripes of some different colour,
which is not very distinct. The red mantle, which is thrown over
the chair with gilded legs immediately to the right of the chorodi-
dascalus, is, no doubt, intended to form part of the costume of one
of the actors. The wall of the apartment is adorned with Ionian
pilasters, between which are suspended garlands and teniw. The
latter are perhaps indications of success in the dramatic com-
petition.

This examination of the details of the costume in the three
great classes of the ancient drama will suffice to show how entirely
conventional and unreal the performance of a Greek play must have
been when contrasted with our modern notions. It is of course an
open question, whether it is more in accordance with the principles

of dramatic art to
let gorgeous Tragedy
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,

1 P. 366, 5, Porson: ’OxOoBovs: Ta NOmara’ eore Se wepl 7d orHOos Tod XiTevos
aNoupyés Tpdapapimc,

266 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

according to a fixed system of representation, or to ransack the
stores of illuminated missals, monumental brasses, and even Assy-
rian monuments, in order to put on the stage an exact resemblance
of the times to be exhibited: whether it is better to let Comedy
revel in the grotesque exaggerations of our pantomimes, or to place
on the stage a carpeted boudoir with all the details of modern com-
fort. It is at least certain that the present method of putting plays
on the stage, which seems to have reached its ultimate development
under the management of Mr Macready and Mr Charles Kean, is
quite a modern innovation. It began with Le Kain and Talma in
France, and has been fully perfected in this country under the
Kembles. But Shakspere was content to apologize for disgracing
the name of Agincourt

With four or five most vile and ragged foils,
Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous.

Garrick played ancient Romans in bag-wigs and ruffles; until the
last few years Falstaff fought at Shrewsbury with a highlander’s
target, and a white coat with red and gold facings of the time of
George the First; and it was at the beginning of the present cen-
tury that the French performer, who was arrayed for the first time
in an approximation to the classic costume of Agamemnon, de-
manded of Talma, with much indignation, where he was expected
to carry his snuff-box.

Aristotle, or the grammarian by whom his treatise on’ Poetry
has been interpolated, informs us! that every Greek Tragedy ad-
mitted of the following subdivisions; the prologue, the episodes, the
exode, which applied to the performances of the actors, and the
parodus and stasima, which belonged to the chorus. The songs
from the stage (ra amo oxnvjs) and the dirges (Koppol) are peculiar
to some ‘Tragedies only. Besides these, it seems that there was
occasionally a dancing song or canzonet of a peculiar nature®. The
proper entrance of the chorus was from the parascenia by one of
the parodi (nte). The parodus was the song which the choreute
sang as they moved, probably in different parties, along these side-
entrances of the orchestra’. It was generally either interspersed
with anapests, as is the case in the Antigone; or preceded by a

2 Chap. x11. below, Part 11.
2 Introd. to Antigone, p. xxxi. ® bid; ps xxx.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 267

long anapeestic march, as in the case of the Supplices and Agamem-
non. Sometimes this anapestic march was followed by a system of
the cognate! Ionics a minore. This we find in the Perse. In some
Tragedies there was no parodus, but the opening of the play found
the chorus already assembled on the Thymele, and prepared to sing
the first stasimon. Such is the case in the Gidipus Tyrannus. It
seems probable that they then entered by the passage under the
seats (rbh). The stasima were always sung by the chorus when it
was either stationary or moving on the same limited surface around
the altar of Bacchus, and with its front to the stage. The places
of the choreute were marked by lines on the stage (dvaypaypara).
The two circles round the altar, indicated in the plan, give the
maximum and minimum range of their evolutions. When those
evolutions amounted to a dance, it was of the nature of the emme-
leia, which, as we have seen, was a staid and solemn form of the
gymnopedic gesticulations. The satyric chorus danced the rapid
pyrrhic, or some form derived from it, and we may infer that it
involved a great deal of tramping backwards and forwards, with
high steps and lively movements of the hands, like the morris-
dance in England, or the tarantella in Italy. Although the cordaz,
derived from the hyporcheme, was the original form of dance
adopted by the phallic comus, it was so grossly indecent, that
Aristophanes claims credit for its omission in The Clouds’. The
comic chorus sang its parodus and its stasima in the same manner
as the tragic; but they were, as pieces of poetry, much less elabo-
rate, and generally much shorter. The main performance of the
chorus in Comedy was the parabasis. It was an address to the
audience in the middle of the play, and was the most immediate
representative of the old trochaic or anapestic address by the leader
of the phallic song, for which the personal lampoons of Archilochus
furnished the model, and to which the Old Comedy of Athens was
mainly indebted for its orig. This parabasis, or “ counter-
march,” was so called, because the chorus, which had previously
‘stood facing the stage, and on the other side of the central altar,
wheeled about, and made a movement towards the spectators, who
were then addressed by the corypheus in a short system of ana-
pests or trochees, called the coypateov, and this was followed by a

1 Donaldson’s Gr. Gr. art. 650, p. 620. 2 Béckh, Antigone, pp. 280 sqq-
3 See vv. 537 sqq.

268 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

long anapestic system, termed sviyos (“suffocation”), or waxpov
(“long”’), from the effort which its delivery imposed upon the
reciter. In the extant remains of Greek lyric poetry, those parts of
the epinikia of Pindar, which allude to the professional rivalries
and literary pretensions of the poet, are the nearest approximations
to this function of the choral comus. The parabasis is often fol-
lowed by a lyrical song in honour of some divinity, and this by a
short system, properly of sixteen trochaic tetrameters, which is
called the epirrhema or “supplement.” The French would term it
Venvot. It contains some joking addition to the main purport of
the parabasis. The lyric poem generally consisted of strophe and
antistrophe; and the epirrhema had its antepirrhema. ‘These di-
visions confirm the supposition that the lyric poem was derived
from the mutual Aodopiar of the Phallic singers, and the epirrhema
from the interchange of ribaldry in which the comus indulged.
There were regularly never more than three actors (d7roxpirai,
ayovicrai), who, as we have seen, were designated as respectively
the first, second, and third actor (rpwraywvtatns, SevTepayoviaTns,
tpitayovorys’). The third actor in Tragedy was first added
by Sophocles?; and it is said that Cratinus was the first to
make this addition in Comedy’, Any number of mutes might
appear on the stage. If children were introduced as speaking or
singing on the stage, the part was undertaken by one of the chorus,
who stood behind the scene, and it was therefore called a mapa-
oxnviov, from his position, or tapayopnynua, from its being some-
thing beyond the proper functions of the chorus*. It has been
concluded® that a fourth actor was indispensable to the proper
performance of the Gidipus Coloneus. But we cannot admit that
this mnovation was necessary in the particular case®, and in all

1 Above, pp. 54, 216.
2 Above, p. 120. 3 Anonym. de Comedia, p. xxxii.

* Pollux, Iv. § 109, says that it was mapackjmov if one of the chorus said any-
thing in a song instead of a fourth actor (above, p. 234), but mapaxopiyynua el rérap-
Tos Uroxpirhs Te mapapbéyéaro; and he cites the Agamemnon of A®schylus for the ~
former, and the Memnon of the same poet for the latter. See C. F. Hermann, Disput.
de Distribut. Personarum in Trag. Grecis, Marburg, 1840, pp. 39, 40, 64, 66.

5 By Miiller, Hist, Lit. Gr. 1. p. 305.

8 The difficulty raised by Miiller, namely, that the part of Theseus must have been
divided between two actors, if there were only three in all, does not seem to bea
very formidable one. The mask and the uniformity of tragic declamation would
make it as easy for two actors to represent one part, as for one actor to sustain
several characters.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 269

others it is tolerably easy to see how all the parts might have been
sustained without inconvenience by three actors. ‘The protagonist
regularly undertook the character in which the interest of the piece
was thought to center; and it was so arranged that he could also
give those narratives of what was supposed to have taken place
off the stage, which constituted to the last the most epic portion of
the Tragedy, and which probably, in the days of Thespis and
Phrynichus, comprised all the chief efforts of the original rhap-
sode or exarchus!. By a great stroke of comic humour Aristo-
phanes makes Agoracritus, the hero of The Knights, appear as the
narrator of his own adventures?, an office which a tragedian would
have assigned to some messenger from the scene of action. The
deuteragonist and tritagonist seem to have divided the other cha-
racters between them, less according to any fixed rule than in obe-
dience to the directions of the poet, who was guided by the exigen-
cies of his play®. The actors took rank according to their merits,
and the tritagonist was always considered as inferior to the other
two.

The narrowness and distance of the stage rendered any elabo-
rate grouping unadvisable. The arrangement of the actors was
that of a processional bas-relief*. Their movements were slow, their
gesticulations abrupt and angular, and their delivery a sort of loud
and deep-drawn sing-song, which resounded throughout the im-
mense theatre®. They probably neglected every thing lke by-play,
and making points, which are so effective on the English stage.
The distance at which the spectators were placed would prevent
them from seeing those little movements, and hearing those low
tones which have made the fortune of many a modern actor. The

1 Introduction to the Antig. p. xx. 2 vv. 624 sqq.
3 Tutrod. to the Antig. pp. xx sqq.

4 “© As ancient sculpture,” says Miiller (Hist. of Gr. Lit. 1. p. 398), “‘ delighted
above all things in the long lines of figures which we see in the pediments and friezes,
and as even the painting of antiquity placed single figures in perfect outline near each
other, but clear and distinct, and rarely so closely grouped as that one intercepted the
view of another; so also the persons on the stage, the heroes and their attendants
(who were often numerous) stood in long rows on the long and narrow stage.” It is
to be remarked, however, that numerous retinues, especially if they appeared with
horses or chariots, were often introduced into the orchestra.

5 This is pretty evident from the epithets, which, as Pollux tells us, might be
applied to the actor, Iv. 114: elros 5° dv Baptarovos broxpiri}s, Bou8Gv, TepiBouBar,
Ankvolfav, Napvyylfov, papvyylfwv, K.T.r.

270 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

mask too precluded all attempts at varied expression, and it is pro-
bable that nothing more was expected from the performer than was
looked for from his predecessor the rhapsode,—namely, good reci-
tation’. The rhythmical systems of the tragic choruses were very
simple, and we may conclude that the music to which they were set
was equally so. The dochmiac metre, which is regularly found in
the Kouwpol and ta aro cxnvis, would admit of the most inartificial
of plaintive melodies. The comic choral songs very frequently
introduce the easy asynartete combinations*, which were so much
used by Archilochus ; and we find in Aristophanes a very curious
form of the antispastic metre, the invention of which is attributed
to Eupolis®.

We shall conclude with a few observations on the audience, and
on the social position of the actors. For the first few years after the
commencement of theatrical performances no money was paid for
admission to them; but after a time (probably about the year 5013.c.)
it was found convenient to fix a price for admission, in order to pre-
vent the crowds and disturbances occasioned by the gratuitous ad-
mission of every one who chose to comet. The charge was two
obols®; but lest the poorer classes should be excluded, the entrance
money was given to any person who might choose to apply for it,
provided his name was registered in the book of the citizens
(AnEvapyiKov ypaypareiov). The lowest and best seats were set
apart for the magistrate, and for such persons as had acquired or

1 Professor Blackie, after quoting these words (The Lyrical Dramas of Aschylus
translated from the Greck, Lond, 1850, Vol. 1. p. xlvi), adds: ‘*These observations,
flowing from a realization of the known circumstances of the case, will sufficiently
explain to the modern reader the extreme stiffness and formality which distinguishes
the tragic dialogue of the Greeks from that dexterous and various play of verbal inter-
change which delights us so much in Shakspere and the other masters of English
tragedy. Every view, in short, that we can take, tends to fix our attention on the
musical and the religious elements, as on the life-blood and vital soul of the Hellenic
rpaywola; forces us to the conclusion, that, with a due regard to organic principle, its
proper designation is sacred opera, and not tragedy, in the modern sense of the word,
at all; and leads us to look on the dramatic art altogether in the hands of Auschylus,
not as an infant Hercules strangling serpents, but as a Titan, like his own Prome-
theus chained to a rock, whom only after many ages a strong Saxon Shakspere could
unbind.”

2 Donaldson’s Gr. Gr. 666, p. 628. 3 Id. ibid. 677, p. 633.

4 It is probable that at Athens, as well as Rome, each person entitled to admission

was furnished with a ticket indicating his place in the theatre. A ticket of admission
to the Casina of Plautus has been found at Pompeii.

5 This account of the Theoricon is taken from Bockh’s Publ. Econ, 1. pp. 289 foll.
Engl. Tr. :

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 271

inherited a right to front seats (poedpia'). It is probable that
those who were entitled to reserved places at the theatre had also
tickets of admission provided for them. Foreigners on the con-
trary were obliged generally to be contented with the back seats’.
The entrance-money was paid to the lessee of the theatre (@eatpo-
ns, OeatpoTraryns, apyiTtéxtav), who defrayed the rent and made the
necessary repairs out of the proceeds. The distribution of the
admission-money, or Jewpixov, as it was called, out of the public
funds, was set on foot by Pericles, at the suggestion of Demo-
nides of Gia; its application was soon extended till it became a
regular largess from the demagogues to the mob at all the great
festivals ; and well might the patriot Demosthenes lift up his voice
against a practice which was in the end nothing but an instru-
ment in the hands of the profligate orators, who pandered to the
worst passions of the people. The lessee sometimes gave a gratis
exhibition, in which cases tickets of admission were distributed’.
Any citizen might buy tickets for a stranger residing at Athens‘,
We have no doubt that women were admitted to the dramatic
exhibitions, at least to the Tragedies®; and boys as well as men
were present at all performances of plays®, nor were slaves ex-
cluded’. It seems probable however that the women sat by them-
selves in a particular part of the theatre; for in the theatre at
Syracuse there are still inscriptions on the nine different xepxides, or

1 See Aristoph. Zqu. 704; Demosth. Mid. p. 572.

2 See Alexis ap. Poll. 1X. 44:
évradda mepl ri éoxdtny Set Keplia
buds kabifotoas Oewpeiv, ws Eévas.

3 Kal émi Oday fuixa dv Séy ropeverOat, ovK eGv Tods views, [4AN’] qvlKa mpotka agidow
oi Oearp&va. Theophrast. Charact. XI.

‘‘Theophrastus mentions this as one of the marks of drévoa in a person, Kal év
"Oeduace 6é Tods yadkovs Exéyev, Kad’ Exacroy Tapio’ Kal wdxerOat Tots TS cUUBodov
pépovot, kal mpoika Oewpeiy aéodo.. Charact. vi. Among the relicts from Pompeii
and Herculaneum preserved in the Studii at Naples, is an oblong piece of metal about
three inches in length, and one in breadth, inseribed Alcxv’Aos. This was perhaps the
abuBorov of Theophrastus.” Former Editor.

4 Kal tas 6& adtod Oday dyopdoas, wh Sods Td pépos, Gewpetv. Theophrast.
Charact. IX.

5 Pollux uses the same term @earpia (11. § 56, Iv. § 121), which is alone some
evidence of the fact. It is stated, however, expressly by Plato, Gorgias, 502 D; Legg.
i. 658 D; vit. 817 ¢; and by Aristoph. Eccles, 21 —23; Satyrus ap. Athen. p. 534.
See Bekker’s Chavicles, pp. 403 sqq-

6 For their appearance at tragedies, see the passages of Plato quoted in note 3.
That they were allowed to see comedies also is clear from Aristoph. Vub. 537; Pax,
50, 766; Eupolis ap. Avistot. Eth. Nic. iv. 2.

7 Plato, Gorg. p. 502.

22 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF

compartments, from which it would appear that the center and four
western compartments (namely those to the left of the spectator)
were assigned to the men, while the four eastern compartments
were reserved for the female spectators!. The conduct of the audi-
ence was much the same as that of the spectators at our own
theatres, and they seem to have had little scruple in expressing
their approbation or disapprobation, as well of the poet* as of the
actors’. Their mode of doing this was sometimes very violent,
and even in the time of Machon it was customary to pelt a bad
performer with stones‘.

The Athenian performers were much esteemed all over Greece;
they took great pains about their bodily-exercises®, and dieted
themselves in order to keep their voices clear and strong®. Their
memory must have been cultivated with assiduous care, for they
never had the assistance of a prompter, like the performers on the
modern stage’. We believe that the protagonist at all events was
generally paid by the state; in the country exhibitions, however,
two actors would occasionally pay the wages of their tpitayo-
wots’, The salary was often very high®, and Polus, who gene-
rally acted with Tlepolemus in the plays of Sophocles”, sometimes
earned a talent by two days’ performances”. The histrionie pro-
fession was not thought to involve any degradation. ‘The actors
were of necessity free Athenian citizens, and by the nature of the
case had received a good education. The actor was the represen-
tative of the dramatist, and often the dramatist himself. Sopho-
cles, who sometimes performed in his own plays, was a person of

1 This is inferred from the female names on the eastern xepxldes; see Gottling,
iiber die Inschriften im Theater zu Syrakus, Rhein. Mus. 1834, pp. 103 8qq.

2 Athenzus, XIII. p. 583 F.

3 Demosth. De Corond (p. 345 and 346, Bekker). Comp. Milton’s imitation of
the passage. (Prose Works, p. 80, in the Apology for Smectymnuus.)

4 Athen. VI. p. 245. 5 Cicero, Orat. c. IV. 8 Plato, Legg. 1.

7 Hermann (Opuse. v. 304) says: “In theatro brofSodeds dictus est, qui histrioni
verba subjiciebat, quem nos Gallico vocabulo soufleur appellamus. Sie Plutarchus in
Pree. ger. resp. 17, p. 813 B: pyetcOac rods broxpirds, mdOos pev Udiov Kal #O0s Kal
dtlwpa TG ayGu mpooriévras, Tod 5é broBoéws dxovovras, Kal uh mapexBaivov7 as rods
puOuods Kal ra pérpa rhs Sidoudvns eEovclas brs Trav Kparowvrwv. But, as Bernhardy
remarks (Griech. Litlerat. 11. p. 648), we have here only a reference to the ¢dwvdcxos,
who kept C. Gracchus within bounds by the tone of his instrument (Plut. Tb. Gracchus,
c. 2; Aul. Gellius, V. A. 1. rr).

8 Demosth. de Corond, p. 345, Bekker.

9 See Bickh, Public Econ. Book I. c, XXI. p. 120, Engl. Tr.

Comp. Aul. Gell. vit. 5, with Schol. Ar. Nuh. 1269.

1 Plutarch, Rhet. Vite.

GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL. 273

the highest consideration; the actor Aristodemus went on an em-
bassy!, and many actors took a lead in the public assembly’.
Theodorus, who was a contemporary of Aristodemus, and to whose
mastery over his art both Aristotle, who had seen him on the
stage’, and later writers, to whom his fame had descended‘, bear
ample testimony, was honoured by a monument, which was a con-
spicuous object on the sacred road to Eleusis even in the time of
Pausanias®’. It is true that Demosthenes, among the exaggerated
contumelies which he heaps on his opponent A¥schines, lays a
particular stress on his connexion with the stage. But it must be
remembered that in all this he does not attempt to depreciate the
profession itself, He is at great pains to indicate not only that
Alischines never rose beyond the rank of a tprtayovicrys®, and that
he was merely the subordinate partner of Theodorus and Aristode-
mus’, just as Ischander was the regular Sevtepaywvicrns of Neo-
ptolemus§, but that he utterly failed even in that humble capacity.
On one occasion, when Aischines was performing at Collytus the
part of Ginomaus in the play of Sophocles which bore that name,
and was pursuing Ischander, who as deuteragonist took the part of
Pelops, in the death-race for Hippodameia, which was probably
represented in the orchestra, it is stated the future statesman fell
in a very unseemly manner, had to be set on his feet again by
Sannio, the teacher of the chorus, and was hissed off the stage by
the offended spectators’. It is also intimated that at one time in
his dramatic career, whether before or after this mishap does not
appear, Auschines was content to be tritagonist to ranting actors
named Simylus and Socrates, in whose company he was so pelted

1 Asch. rept raparp. p. 347, Bekker.

? Demosth. repl rapurp. p. 377; Bekker, de Corond, p. 281.

> See, for example, Rhet. 11. 2, § 4: olov 7 Ocoddpov puvh wrémovOe pds Thy Trav
G\wy droxpirav" 7 wev yap Tod Né-yovros Eocxev elvac* ai 8 dddérprac.

* It is said that he actually extorted tears from the savage tyrant, Alexander of
Phere ; Atlian, V. H. xiv. 14; ef. Plut. Pelop. 29.

5 1. 37, $3: mp de} diaBiwac rov Kynpiodv, Ocodwpov prfud éore rpaywdiay broxpt-
vap.évov Tav Kal’ avrdy dpirra.

6 De Corond, pp. 270, 11; 297, 253 315, 9.

7 De Fals. Legat. pp. 418, 420, 2.

8 De Fals. Legat. p. 344, 7: “Ioxavdpov rov Neorrod€éuov devtepaywrior jv.

® De Corond, p. 288, 19: dv év KoddurG wore Olvéuaov kaxds érérpuvas. Anonym.
Vit. disch. pp. 11 sq. : Anuoxdpys poly "IoxdvSpou rod rpaywdod rpiraywnorhy yevér bat
Tov Aloxlvyy kal broxpwopuevov Olvduaov Sudskovra Wédora aloxpads receiv xal dvacrivac
brd Lavvlwvos Tod xopodidacxddov. Apoll. Vit. disch. pp. 13 sq.: Aloxlyys rpiraywrorhs
éyévero Tpaywoiay Kat év Koddur@ wore Olvduaoy iroxpwbuevos karérecer.

D. T. G. 18

274 . REPRESENTATION OF GREEK PLAYS IN GENERAL.

by the audience with figs, grapes, and olives, that it was worth his
while to collect these missiles, and to find some compensation for
the wounds which he had received in this way by living on the
fruits of other men’s orchards}. These insulting allusions, which
were afterwards repeated in part by Demochares, the nephew of
Demosthenes’, had in all probability little more than a foundation
on fact®. But if they were sustained in every respect by the
dramatic history of Aischines, it is clear that they affect only his
personal reputation as an actor, and do not derogate from the general
respectability of the histrionic art. In some cases, the actors were
not only recognized by the state, but controlled and directed by
special enactments. Thus, according to the law brought forward
by the orator Lycurgus, the actors were obliged to compare the
acting copies of the plays of the three great tragedians, with the
authentic manuscripts of their works, preserved in the state
archives; and it was the duty of the public secretary to see that
the texts were accurately collated‘.

1 De Corond, p. 314, 10. The true explanation of this passage is that given by
Mr C. R. Kennedy, in the note to his translation, p. 97.

2 Apud Harpocrat. s. v. "Icxavipos. Anonym. Vit. Aisch. p. 11.

3 The theatrical career of Alschines has been carefully examined by Arnold
Schaefer, Demosthenes und seine Zeit, I. pp. 213—226. He falls into the old mistake
of supposing that Auschines himself habitually imitated the manner of Solon (p. 225,
note). More accurate scholarship would have led him to notice that Demosthenes uses
the aorist éuiujoaro, and that an imperfect would have been employed had he meant
to imply habitual imitation. We have shown elsewhere that the statue from Hereu-
laneum represents Solon, and not A%schines (‘‘On the Statue of Solon mentioned by
/®schines and Demosthenes,” Transactions of the Cambridge Philosophical Society,
Vol. x. Part 1). On the exaggerations or fabrications of Demosthenes in these attacks
on Aischines, see Hist. Lit. of Gr. Vol. 11. p. 365.

4 Vite X. Oratorum, p. 841 D, p. 377 Wyttenb.: ws xadkds elkdvas dvabewa: Tov
montav, Alaxtdov, Lopoxdéous, Evpirldov, cal ras tpaywolas airay & kow@ ypawa-
p&vous puddrrew, kal Tov TAS mbdews ypaymaréa mapavaryryvackew Tots UroKpwWoueas*
ovk eketvar yap abdras [d\\ws] droxplvecOat.

CHAPTER II.

ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN TRAGEDIES
AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR.

Veteres ineunt proscenia ludi.
VERGILIUS.

.. fully considered all the circumstances connected with
the representation of a Greek play in general, we must now
apply the results of this inquiry to an investigation of the manner in
which these arrangements were practically applied in particular cases,
And as our space will not allow us to examine with sufficient mi-
nuteness the details which probably attended the exhibition of
every extant Tragedy and Comedy, it will be desirable to select
those dramas which furnish the most decisive and distinctive ex-
amples of the scenic ingenuity of the Greeks. The most prominent
peculiarity is undoubtedly the complete or partial change of the
indications of locality. And this is of very rare occurrence. In the
seven plays of Aischylus there is a complete change of scene only
in the second and third plays of the extant Trilogy; and the left
periactos, which, as we have seen, indicates the direction of the
foreign or distant regions from which the visitant is supposed to
enter the stage, is not turned once in all the remains of the oldest
dramatist. Sophocles has only one example of a complete change
of scene, that in the Ajax; and only one of the turning of the left
pertactos, that in the Gidipus Tyrannus, when the road to Corinth
is substituted for that to Delphi, with, perhaps, a distant view of
Parnassus. In the numerous plays of Euripides we have no ex-
ample of a complete change of place, but several of his plays
require a change of the left pertactos. The scene is completely
changed in five of the eleven plays of Aristophanes; but the left
18—2

276 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

pertactos is turned only in the Acharnians and in the Lysistrata ;
and in the latter there are four or five of these indications of a dif-
ferent point of approach to the stage from a distance.

In making a selection from the extant Greek plays, we shall
commence with the only complete Trilogy, the Orestea, or, as it
may have been once called, the Agamemnonia of Aischylus, and
shall then take those of the other plays which furnish the most
various examples of a complete theatrical exhibition.

The scene of the Agamemnon of Aischylus represents the palace
of the Atreide, and the open space immediately before it. The
front of the palace is adorned with altars of various gods, especially
those to whom the herald addresses himself on entering the stage
(vv. 503 sqq.), and that of Apollo Agyieus was of course one of
them (v. 1085). The palace was represented as rising to a con-
siderable height, for the watchman, who speaks the prologue to the
Tragedy, is able to command from his elevated position a view of
the surrounding country, as far at least as the Arachnean moun-
tains (v. 309). As Pollux mentions the oxory and puxtwpiov
among the parts of the theatre, the question has been raised whether
the watchman is posted on the roof of the palace or on some de-
tached elevation. But it is clear from the words of the poet
that the sentinel must have been on the palace itself (v. 3: o7é-
yas “Atpeddv. v. 301: ’Arpeddar és Tobe OKNTTEL oTEyoS), and the
balcony of the dvateyia would furnish the proper elevation. ‘That
a flat roof without battlements is intended is shown by the state-
ment that he gazed lying down and leaning on his elbows like a
dog (vv. 2, 3: Koysdpevos ayxabev xuvos Sixnv), 1. e. in the attitude
familiar to us from the posture of the sphinx, which is the conven-
tional form of the watchful guardian. The right hand periactos
represented the city of Argos, and the left the road to the coast.

The watchman, who introduces the play, speaks the prologue
from his post on the roof and then makes his exit by a door sup-
posed to lead into the palace, for he had already summoned the
inmates of the royal house (vy. 26).

The chorus then enters (v. 39) by the right-hand parodos, and
the anapests are recited while they are moving to the thymele and
taking their post around it. During these evolutions Clytemnestra
with her attendants enters the stage by the center door (v. 83), and,
after making her offerings at the altars before the palace, goes off

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 277

by the right-hand side-door (v. 103) to repeat these offerings at the
temples in the city; and she does not reappear till the end of the
first choral song (v. 254), when she comes forward to the front of the
stage and enters into colloquy with the leaders of the chorus. She
explains to the chorus why she has offered a sacrifice of thanks-
giving, and after a vivid description of the manner in which the
message of the capture of Troy was transmitted by a series of
beacons, and of the contrast between the victors and the vanquished
in the captured city, she again retires by the center door into her
palace. Hereupon follows the first stasimon of the chorus (vv. 357
—488). And a considerable lapse of time is supposed to inter-
vene. In most of the editions it is supposed that Clytamnestra
returns to the stage at the commencement of the next episode, and
that she speaks the words which indicate the approach of the
herald (vv. 489—500); but it is generally the business of the
chorus to announce the entrance of a new character, the herald
addresses himself to the chorus down to v. 582, and the name of
Clytemnestra is mentioned first in v. 585; it seems therefore clear
that Hermann is right in assigning the first words of the episode to
the chorus, and whether Clytemnestra re-enters from the house at
v. 587, or a few verses before, it is obvious that she takes no part
in the dialogue till she makes that speech, where the word waXaz
must be understood in its largest sense. ‘The herald, who is pro-
bably the Homeric Talthybius, had entered of course by the side-
door on the left, behind the peréactos representing the road to
Nauplia; and he withdraws by the same door, for the queen charges
him with a message to her husband. After the second stasimon (vv.
681—781), a few anapestic lines introduce the triumphal procession
of Agamemnon, who drives into the orchestra in a mule-chariot,
accompanied by the captive Casandra, and followed by a retinue of
attendants. He does not mount the stage till v. 957, when he
reluctantly sets his foot on the costly carpets and follows his
treacherous wife into the palace. It is clear from vy. 1054 (7ei@ou
Mrrodca Tovds’ duakjpy Opovov) that Casandra remains in the orches-
tra, seated still in the mule-chariot. It is probable that the armed
attendants of Agamemnon also remain in the orchestra. The ad-
dress in v. 1651, eta &) Eihos rpdxwrov Tas Tis evtpeTriférw, would
hardly apply to the aged chorus consisting, as we shall see, of only
twelve persons. After the gloomy strains of the third stasimon

278 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

(vy. 975—1032), Clytemnestra comes forth from the palace and
endeavours fruitlessly to induce Casandra to enter the royal apart-
ments. Casandra, who had remained silent while the queen was on
the stage, breaks forth, immediately after her exit, into the most
impassioned strains, and the dialogue between her and the chorus
constitutes one of the finest scenes in the whole body of the extant
Tragedies of the Greeks. After having declared to the chorus, with
increasing distinctness, the impending murder of Agamemnon and
herself, she rushes into the house to meet her doom. We should
infer from the conventional «al yyy that she leaves the orchestra at
the end of her interchange of songs with the chorus (v. 1178).

When Casandra leaves the stage (v. 1330), the chorus recites a
few anapests, which probably indicate a movement of the whole
body to take up a new position. The death-cry of Agamemnon is
heard (v. 1343), and each of the twelve choreute expresses his
opinion as to what ought to be done. The proposal to rush into
the palace and convict the murderer while the fresh-dripping sword
is still in his hand (v. 1350: Ors tayiota y eumeceiv Kal mpaypy
ehéyyew Edv veoppavrw Eider) seems to be generally adopted, and as
Clytemnestra is immediately afterwards discovered on the spot
where she had slain her husband (v. 1379: éotnxa 8 &@ érac
er e&eipyacpévois), it may fairly be concluded that the eceyclema,
which exposes the interior of the palace, is supposed to include the
chorus also, and the whole of the xdupos which follows, down to
the anapests (vv. 1567—1576), which indicate a movement of the
parties, is to be understood as taking place within the palace.

The eccyclema is withdrawn, and the chorus is again in the
open place before the house of the Atreide, when Aigisthus,
attended by an armed escort (v. 1650), enters the stage by the
right-hand side-door (vy. 1577), as though he had come from the
city on learning that Clyteemnestra had consummated his plot with
her (vv. 1608—1611). A lively altercation ensues between Aigis-
thus and the chorus, assisted probably by the attendants of Aga-
memnon, and the two parties are about to come to blows, when
they are parted by the hasty re-appearance of Clyteemnestra, and the
play ends as the guilty pair enter the palace to assume the sove-
reign power, and the chorus leaves the orchestra by the right-hand
parodos.

It will be observed that in this grand Tragedy there is no devia-

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 279

tion from the unity of place; for the eccyclema, which displays the
interior of the palace, is only a partial change of scene. The unity
of time, however, is conspicuously violated. For Clytemnestra’s
speech before the first stasimon is supposed to be spoken on the
day of the capture of Troy (v. 320: Tpolay "Axasot 19d éxouva’ év
népa), and the herald, who enters after the stasimon, details cir-
cumstances referring to a long passage from Troy, interrupted by a
dreadful storm which dispersed the fleet. Several days must there-
fore be supposed to have elapsed between the two acts of the play.

The distribution of the parts among the three actors in the
Agamemnon may be very easily arranged, so as to allow the same
actor (i.e. the tritagonist) to perform the same part in all three
plays of the Trilogy, and at the same time to retain the leading
characters for the best performer?:

Protagonist, Agamemnon, the guard, the herald.

Deuteragonist, Casandra, A‘gisthus.

Tritagonist, Clyteemnestra.

The middle play of the Orestea, which is known as the Choé-
phore: oy “bearers of funeral libations,” is divided by a total change
of scene into two distinct parts. The scene of the first act, which
terminates at v. 651, is a desolate tract of country at some distance
from the city, perhaps hilly, and certainly provided with brushwood
for the concealment of Orestes and Pylades. The central object is
the mound which indicates the tomb of Agamemnon. The play
begins with the entrance of Orestes and his friend from the left
side-door, and the former speaks the prologue, which has come
down to us considerably mutilated. The chorus enters from the
right parodos at v. 10. In the present state of the text we cannot
say whether they sang any anapests as they advanced to the thy-
mele, but the commencement of their first choral song (vv. 22 sqq.)
seems to imply that they had previously been silent. Although
Orestes is made to suppose (v.16) that he sees Electra along with the
chorus, it is clear that this is only intended to indicate a natural illu-
sion on his part. For Electra must enter by the right-hand side-door,
where the perdactos perhaps represented a distant view of the royal
palace, and her entrance is marked by her address to the chorus in
vv.84sqq. The maidens of the chorus are sent to accompany Electra
(v. 23: yodv mpémopmos. v. 85: THade mposTpoTys €wou Toprol)

1 See Miller, Hist. Lit. Gr. 1. p. 406.

280 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

and to perform certain acts of public mourning (vy. 24, 423 sqq.),
but they do not themselves make the offering; this is performed by
Electra (v. 129), who is therefore alone on the stage. She is joined
by Orestes (v. 212), who appears suddenly from his place of con-
cealment, and although Pylades is not mentioned till v. 561, there
is no reason to doubt that he re-enters with his friend. They both
leave the stage by the right-hand door before the first stasimon
(vv. 585 sqq.). For it seems absurd to refer rov7@ in v. 583,

7a 8 adda Tovrw Seip’ eromretcat héyw

tipnpbpous dyvas dpOwcarrl por,
to Pylades. The very terms of the phraseology, compared with
the address at the beginning of the play,

‘Ep xOome, warp’ éromretwy Kpdarn,

show that the necropolis was adorned with a statue of the infernal
Mercury, to whom there are frequent allusions in the course of the
Tragedy. It is probable that Electra does not accompany her
brother and his friend, but that she and the chorus make their exit
at the end of the stasimon (y. 651).

Both the stage and the orchestra being now clear, the scene is
entirely changed, and both the periacti are tumed. That on the
left represents a distant view of the graye of Agamemnon, that on
the right the city of Argos; and the scene itself shows us the royal
palace, with a lodging for strangers to the left. Orestes and Py-
lades enter by the left side-door. Clytamnestra comes forth to
erect them from the center door of the palace, and sends them into
the strangers’ lodgings. The re-entrance of the chorus by the left-
hand parodos,—for they must be supposed to come directly from the
grave to which they refer (v. 722),—is indicated by a few anapzsts
(vv. 719—733). As Clytemnestra manifestly returns to the palace
after her brief conversation with Orestes, and as she sends Cilissa
to Agisthus (v. 734), the old nurse must come forth from the
center door, and make her exit by the right-hand side-door leading
to the city. By the same door Aigisthus enters after the second
stasimon (v. 838), and betakes himself to the strangers’ apartments,
where he is at once put to death by Orestes. From the words of
the chorus in vy. 872, 873,

dmroocrabGuev mpdyuaros TeXoumevou
brws SoxGyev THvd’ dvalriat KaxGv
eva. wdyns yap 3) Kexvpwrat Tos,

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 281

it may fairly be inferred that the choreute take refuge and conceal
themselves in the parodos until the end of the interview between
Clytemnestra and the matricide. The servant of course comes forth
from the strangers’ apartments, and knocks at the center door, and
Clyteemnestra comes from the house at his summons, just as Orestes
rushes out in pursuit of her (v. 892). After Orestes has dragged
his mother into the strangers’ lodging in order to slay her beside
Aigisthus (vv. 894, 904), the chorus re-appears and sings the stasi-
mon (vv. 931—972) at the thymele. It is clear that the corpses of
the queen and her paramour are exhibited to the spectators, when
Orestes re-appears, and says (v. 973),

Werbe xadpas tiv dirdjv rvpavylda—

but it is not so certain in what manner this is effected. As no
mention is made of the chorus entering the guests’ chambers, where
the murders have been perpetrated, and as Orestes clearly intends
a public display, we must infer that the eccyclema was not used,
but that the bodies were brought out on a bier, as the bodies of
Eteocles and Polyneices were paraded in the Seven against Thebes.
It is not only clear from the question of the chorus (v. 1051) and
from the words of Orestes (v. 1061) that the phantom forms of the
Erinyes are visible to Orestes alone; but the care, which is taken in
the following play, not to exhibit the Eumenides until the audience
have been wound up to the highest point of expectation, precludes
the supposition that the effects of that play would be anticipated
by the premature introduction of the chorus, from which it bears
its name. Orestes leaves the stage by the left side-door, and the
chorus proceeds to the right-hand parodos, reciting the concluding
anapests.

In the Zumenides, as in the Choéphore, there are two distinct
acts, each with its appropriate scenery. The scene of the first act
(vv. 1—234) is the temple of Apollo at Delphi. The center door
on the stage represents the main entrance of the temple, the interior
of which is displayed by the eccyclema after v. 93. The right-
hand door is marked by a sacred grove, through which Apollo
retires after dismissing Orestes. On the other side there may have
been the dwelling of the Pythia, from which she enters at the be-
ginning of the play, and to which she returns after the prologue.
It is probable that the neighbourhood of Delphi, to which the
Pythia alludes in her opening address, is depicted in the scenery.

282 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

And there is every reason to conclude that the altars or statues of
the deities mentioned by her also adorned the stage. The time
intended is the morning after the arrival of Orestes, who has come
straight from Argos (cf. v. 282: sotativov yap év x.T.d.), followed
by the Furies, and whom Apollo has purified while his persecutors
slept. After the prologue, the eccyclema rolls out the chorus who
are sleeping round the altar1, the hero appears on the stage between
Apollo and Hermes, and the latter accompanies him, as he sets
forth on a long journey by sea and land, before he reaches Athens
the object of his wishes (vv. 75 sqq.). While Orestes and Hermes
leave the stage by the left-hand side-door, Apollo retires into the
grove, for of course he cannot appear in his temple till v. 179,
when he expels the intruders. After the stage is cleared (vy. 94),
the dvariecwa immediately exhibits the apparition of Clytem-
nestra’s ghost. That the sleeping chorus had been visible while
Apollo was speaking is clear from the words of the god (vy. 67:
Tacs Tas papyovs opas); and that the mterior was shown by the
eceyclema, perhaps by a two-fold evolution, is distinetly stated by
the Scholiast, who says: Sevtépa yiveras havtacia: otpadévta yap
pnxarnpata évdnra Trove Ta KaTAa TO wavTetov ws Exel. ‘The words
of Apollo, v. 201: tocotdto pjKos éxtewov Noyou, show that they
were still in the temple in spite of his order to quit it, and it is
plain that they do not depart until they have said (229, 230):
éyw 0’, dyer yap atwa pntp@or Slkas,
péreyut Thvde PATa Kakkuynyérts.

And they immediately leave the stage in single file by the left-
hand door by which Orestes and Hermes had made their exit.
Apollo, after reciting his three lines (232—234), returns to his tem-
ple, the eceyclema is withdrawn, and the whole scene is changed.

Between the first and second acts we must suppose a consider-
able interval of time, during which Orestes has traversed many a
region by land and sea (vy. 240: 6yova yépoov Kal Oddaccay exreE-

1 Bétticher has made the costume of the chorus in this play the subject of a
special dissertation (die Fwrienmaske im Trauerspiel und auf den Bildwerken der alten
Griechen, Weimar, 1801, Kleine Schriften, 1. pp. 189—277), and he has given two
pictures of the theatrical Fury, one representing all the repulsive and loathsome
features which seem to have belonged to the Auschylean chorus, and the other exhi-
biting the usual type of theatrical beauty and splendid costume, but indicated as a
minister of vengeance by the serpent-locks, and by the serpent and torch which she
carries in her hands. He believes (p. 138 [271]) that the latter was the only personi-
fication of the Fury admitted on the stage after the time of Pericles and Phidias.

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 283

par, cf. v. 77), and has visited many nations as a purified suppliant
(vv. 284—286). It has generally been supposed that the scene
represents the temple of Minerva Polias at Athens’. But it is
manifest that during the latter part of the act the scene is the
Areopagus, and there is no indication of another change of scene.
There must, however, have been a temple and statue of Minerva in
the Areopagus. For Minerva is made to say to Orestes (v. 474):
ixérns mpocnrOes Ka0apos a8raBns Sopous, Apollo’s injunction to
the fugitive is (v. 80): wordy 5€ Hardados roti wrddw ilo wadavov
dyxabev XaBev Bpéras, and he is described by the goddess (vy. 409)
as Bpéras Tovpov TOO ednpévw Eévw. The most probable solution
is that the poet supposes Orestes to have reached the temple of
’AOnva ’Apela, to whom he was said to have consecrated an altar in
the Areopagus on his acquittal’. The scene then represents the
Areopagus, with a distant view of Athens, certainly with a statue, and
probably with a temple of Minerva. As Orestes says (v. 256) jKo,
“‘T am come,” it is reasonable to conclude that he is seen near the
statue of the goddess as soon as the scene is shifted, and the chorus
re-enters by the left-hand parodos as soon as he has uttered his
short prayer (v. 244). After the stasimon, preceded by a few ana-
pests, as the chorus pass from the part of the orchestra immediately
below the stage to the thymele (vv. 307—396), Minerva appears on
the balcony of the stage, as though borne through the air on a
chariot of clouds. This is shown by her own words (vv. 403—405):

HAOov tirpuTov 75a

mrepav dtep poBdovca Kddrov alyloos

Kkddows akpatos Tév5’ émigedEac’ dxov.
Tf she had come in an ordinary chariot it would have been needless
to say that she came without wings, or that she used her egis to
make a flapping as birds do with their wings (cf. Soph. Antig.
1004: arepadv yap potBdos ovK donpos nv). She clearly means that
she, rode upon the wings of the wind. After the explanation with
the chorus and Orestes, Minerva, who had descended to the stage,
proceeds on foot by the right-hand door to summon the judges for
the trial (v. 489). The stasimon follows (vv. 490—505). And
then Minerva returns from the right with the twelve judges, who

-1 This is the opinion of Droysen, Donner, Genelli, Miiller, Sch6mann and Her-
mann. Geppert and Schénborn maintain the view adopted in the text.

2 Pausan. 1. 28, § 5: Kal Bwyuds eorw ’AOnvas ’Apeias dv dvéOnKev amopuyav Thy
dlxnv.

284 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

take their seats either on the steps of her temple, or on seats before
the center door, while Apollo appears from the left to support his
suppliant. The judges give their votes separately in the twelve
intervals of the couplets spoken by the chorus and Apollo (vy. 711
—733). Orestes is acquitted, and departs by the left-hand door,
as soon as he has expressed his gratitude and bound his country-
men by a promise of future friendliness (vv. 754—777). As he
takes no notice of Apollo, that divinity must have departed after
the declaration of the verdict in vv. 752, 753. It may be presumed
that the Areopagites retain their places till the procession at the
end of the play. When Minerva has succeeded in allaying the
wrath of the Eumenides, she takes leave of the chorus (v. 1003:
yaipere yvpets), and says that she must go before to prepare their
abode for them; and she leaves the stage by the right-hand door
after making her concluding speech (vv. 1021—1031). The zpc-
qourrot then make their appearance through the right-hand parodos,
and lead the chorus from the orchestra by the same door. As they
depart the Areopagites leave the stage in solemn procession.

The distribution of the parts in the second and third plays of
the Trilogy must have been as follows:

Choéphore.
Protagonist, Orestes.
Deuteragonist, Electra, Augisthus, Pylades.
Tritagonist, Clytemnestra.

Eumenides.
Protagonist, Orestes.
Deuteragonist, Apollo.
Tritagonist, Pythia, Clytemnestra, Minerva.

The Trilogy was succeeded by a satyrical drama, the Proteus,
which had some reference to the adventures of Menelaus alluded
to in the Agamemnon (vv. 674 sqq.). The manner, in which the
complete chorus of forty-eight was made available for the separate
choruses of the four plays, is thus stated by C. O. Miiller’. The
Agamemnon had a chorus of twelve senators, as appears from their
conference in vv. 1319—1342; the Humenides had a chorus of
fifteen, as appears from the most probable arrangement of the pvy-
pos Surrdods of v. 125, as seven repetitions of the word XaBe, each

1 Eumeniden, pp. 75 844:

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 285

spoken by a pair of choreutez, the imperative ¢pafouv being uttered
by the corypheus; the chorus of the Choéphorw had probably this
larger number; and this would leave two fvya, or ranks of three
each, for the satyric drama. It is probable that the chorus of old
men from the Agamemnon appeared as the Areopagites in the Hu-
menides, and the chorus of the Choéphore constituted the festive
procession at the end of the last play in the Trilogy.

We have examined the details of the representation of these
three plays at some length, because, taken together, they furnish the
most complete specimen of a Greek dramatic entertainment which
has come down to us. Indeed, with the exception of the satyrical
drama, which served as an after-piece to the Trilogy, we have here
before us a perfect sample of the elaborate theatrical exhibitions,
which were provided for the amusement of the Athenians at their
Bacchic festivals. It will be seen that no regard was paid to the
unities of time and place. ‘The second and third plays are respec-
tively broken into two distinct parts by the change of scene, and
the first play, which has no change of scene, supposes, like the
third, a considerable interval of time between the first and second
acts. And while Aschylus has thus allowed himself a full latitude
in dealing with space and time, he exhibits in this, the last of his
dramatic works, a full acquaintance with all the improvements of
the stage. The three actors are all put in requisition, and the
chorus, originally one and undivided, is broken up into sections for
the sake of the separate plays.

Of the other Tragedies of Aischylus, the Prometheus alone re-
quires a special notice of its mode of representation. It differs from
all other plays by making no use of the stage. The action proceeds
entirely on the balconies above the first story. The scene repre-
sents a desolate and rocky region, not far from the shore of Ocean
at the extremity of the world. The center door is blocked up by
the representation of a craggy mountain. To the summit of this
(v. 142: tijode Papayyos cxoTréXo1s év axpots) Vulcan, attended by
Strength and Force, is engaged in fastening the form of Prome-
theus. On the right-hand periactos there is a representation of the
sea, and a more distant part of the coast is represented on the left.
There can be little doubt! that Prometheus himself was represented
by a lay figure, so contrived that an actor standing behind the pic-

1 See Hermann’s note, p. 55.

286 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

torial mountain could speak through the mask. No protagonist
could have been expected to submit to the restraint of such an at-
titude throughout the whole of the play, to say nothing of the
catastrophe at the end, when the rocks fall asunder, and Prome-
theus is dashed down into Tartarus}.

Vulcan and his attendants leave the balcony by one of the
doors in the évateyia which lead to it (v. 87), and Prometheus is
left alone till the entrance of the chorus indicated by the anapeests
recited by him (vv. 120 sqq.). A question arises, whether the
chorus, which comes through the air, borne on clouds, like Minerva
in the Humenides (cf. v. 135 with Humen. 405), and which must
have appeared at first on the balcony, remains there throughout
the play”, or descends to its proper place in the orchestra at v. 277,
where their anapeests indicate a movement on their part. We have
no hesitation in adopting the latter view of the case, for the fol-
lowing reasons. (1) The balcony would not suffice for the regular
evolutions of a chorus, which in this, as in other plays, has to per-
form antistrophic songs. (2) As Oceanus appears in the same way
and from the same side as the chorus, there would be no room for
both of the machines on the baleony. (3) A Greek play in which
the chorus never entered the orchestra would be an unparalleled
soleecism. If it is urged on the contrary that Prometheus on the
top of the rock would be too distant to converse with the chorus at
the thymele, it may be answered that the audience are still more
distant, and yet they are supposed to hear all his words. And if
reference is made to the warning of Mercury (v.-1060),

pera mov Xwpetr’ éx Tvie rérwv

wn pp&as dpwev jAOiwon

Bpovras wixnw drépapvov,
as showing that they must have been near Prometheus, we reply
that it indicates, on the contrary, that they were not within the
immediate sphere of the danger, for he would not have used the
plural ré7wy in that case, and he would have indicated even a
worse risk than that of losing their senses owing to the crash of
the thunder.

But although the chorus must be placed in the orchestra, all the

* Schomann, des dschylos gefesselter Prometheus, p. 87, believes that Prometheus
was represented by an actor throughout the play.

* This is Schénborn’s opinion, p. 292.

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 287

actors speak from the upper platform. Oceanus remains seated on
his courser in the clouds, and rides away upon it when his selfish
fears are excited (v. 396). Io, who had been wandering on the
sea-shore near the mountain (v. 575: wAava te vjotw ava Tav
Tapadiay Wappov), enters from the left on the balcony which re-
presents the summit of these rugged rocks; for she speaks of casting
herself down from them in her despair (vv. 747 sqq.):
rl dqr’ euol fHv Képdos, GAN ovK ev TaxEL
ep’ euavriv tHod awd orvpdov wérpas ;

In the same manner Mercury enters from the same side; for there
is no reference whatever, as in the case of Oceanus and the chorus,
to his having flown thither through the air, and he is expressly
called “the running-footman of Jove” (v. 941: tov Ads tpoyw);
and as Prometheus sees him at once, he cannot be on the stage
below. It is clear that the chorus leaves the orchestra by the
right-hand parodos, just as Mercury quits the baleony by a side-
door to the left, probably veiled by a peak of the mountain, and
Prometheus is left alone to describe the coming storm in the splen-
did anapzests which conclude the play and accompany the exodus
of the chorus. Then, it may be presumed, the scenic rocks fall
asunder, and the figure representing Prometheus descends with
them below the stage.

As a specimen of the manner in which Sophocles, the perfecter
of the Greek drama, placed his Tragedies on the stage, it will be
sufficient to examine the latest of his plays, the Qdipus at Colonus.

The scene, which remains the same throughout the play, is
minutely described in the opening verses. Qidipus entering from
behind the left-hand periactos, which represents the road to Thebes,
asks his guide Antigone (vv. 1, 2):

Téxvov Tuprod yépovros ’Avrvyévy, Tyas
xdpous adlypel’, 7 Tivwy dvipay rbuw;
**Child of a blind old man, Antigone,

What lands, what city are we come unto?”
and she replies (vv. 14—20):

mdtep Tadalrwp’ Oldlrov, mipyou pév, ot
mo\w oréyovow, ws am’ dupdtar, mpbow"
xGpos 5’ 45’ ipds, ws cad’ elkdoat, Bpiwy
Sddyys, édalas, dumédov’ muKvdrrepa F
elow Kar’ avrov evoTopodc’ anddves*

ov K@\a Kdprov Tovs’ én’ a&écrov mérpov.
paKkpav yap, ws yépovTt, mpobarddns dddv.

288 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

‘*Q woe-worn father Cidipus, the towers
That girt the city, as mine eyes inform me,
Are still far off: but where we stand the while
A consecrated grove displays itself,
Thick set with bay-trees, olive-trees, and vines;
And from within, with closely ruffled plumes,
The nightingales make sweetest melody.
Then sit thee down on this rough stone: thine age
May hardly brook such lengthened pilgrimage.”

From this it is clear, that the center of the stage represents
this grove of the Eumenides as surrounded by a low dry-stone
dyke, on which the blind wanderer takes his seat (v.19). The
entrance to the grove substitutes brazen steps for the stones of
the wall (v.57: Ov & éucteiBes Torov yOovos Kareitar Thode
YarKoTrovs 0605. V. 192: avtot* pnKéte Tovd avtiTétpov Bnywartos
éw oda KAlvys). In the immediate neighbourhood of the grove
was seen the pool, against which Cidipus is warned by the chorus
(vv. 155, sqq.). The right-hand periactos exhibited a view of
Colonos, and near it was seen, probably as a picture, the statue
of the hero of the place (v. 59: rovS tmmorny Kodwvov). In
the interval between this and the grove the scenery gave a distant
view of Athens. To the left of the grove we may presume that
there was a perspective representation of the country of Attica
between Colonos and the Theban borders, from which C&dipus
and his daughter have travelled. All five doors of the stage
must have been used in the course of the piece.

After Gidipus has taken his seat on the fence of the sacred
inclosure, a man of Colonos enters from the right and informs
him that he has violated holy ground. The stranger, however,
does not venture to remove him, but departs by the door by
which he had entered to summon the chorus, and to bear the
tidings: to Theseus (v. 298). When he has made his exit, An-
tigone leads her father quite within the grove (v. 113: Kai pw’
€& 0600 7r0da KpUyov Kat ddaos). The chorus then enters by the
right-hand parodos, and though in search of Cidipus, it does
not mount the stage. For when the blind king comes forth from
the grove (v. 138), the chorus is engaged in spying round the
outside of the enclosure (v. 55: AXevoowy trepl wav Téwevos), and
it addresses him as still at a distance, though he is standing on
the narrow stage (v. 162: petacta?’, aroBabu modda KédevOos
€patier’ KAvELS, @ ToAVpox? adata). The conference between

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 289

(&dipus and the chorus is interrupted by the unexpected arrival
of Ismene (v. 310), who comes mounted on horseback (v. 312),
and accompanied by a faithful domestic (v. 334). It may be
considered doubtful whether the horse is seen by the audience}.
The mention of the servant seems to be introduced because he
is there to hold the horse after she has dismounted, and the
interval between v. 310 when she is first seen, and v. 324 when
she first speaks, together with the momentary difficulty in recog-
nizing her (v. 315 sqq.), may be best explained by the supposition
that she rides into the orchestra, leaves her horse with the servant,
(who leads it out,) and then mounts the stage. It may fairly be
inferred that, when Ismene retires from the stage to pour forth the
libations on the other side of the grove (v. 505: tov«eOev ddoos
tovee), she makes her exit by the middle door on the left. For she
is seized by Creon on his way from Thebes, though the ordinary
route to Boeotia is not that which Ismene is supposed to have
taken, otherwise she would not have needed the guidance of the
chorus. Now it is expressly intimated that the road from Thebes
branched off in two directions not far from Colonns (v. 900). And
it is to be understood that Creon had diverged from the straight
road on his approach to the sacred grove in search of Cidipus, so
as to pass through the spot where Ismene was occupied in her
pious offices.

As Theseus leaves Cidipus to the care of the chorus (v. 653),
it is quite clear that the old men of Colonus cannot be passive
spectators of Creon’s. outrage, and the text shows that some at
least of the choreute mount the stage and lay hands on the
Theban prince; for he says to them (v. 855), mu) wavew réya,
and the choir-leader replies, ovtow o agjow*®. The main body

1 Schénborn says (p. 280): ‘‘ Den Anblick des Rosses den Zuschauern zu gewiihren,
dazu liegt kein Motiv vor.” Kolster, on the other hand, justly remarks (Pref. p. xi):
‘*Schénborn musste wenigstens sagen warum der Dichter denn Ismene von der
Schwester zu Ross sehen lasst, wenn sie nicht so auftreten soll; Sophokles wirft doch
dergleichen Worte nicht umsonst hin.”

2 Kolster maintains that the struggle takes place on the steps leading to the
orchestra, through which Creon had to return. He says (p. 60): ‘If any one denies
his appearance in the orchestra because he does not come on horseback or in a chariot,
he ought to remark, first, that he comes not alone, but accompanied by numerous
attendants, v. 723, ovx dvev wouwGy; and then, that though he comes expressly to
carry off CEdipus, he does not at once address him, whom he would have been close to,
if he had appeared on the stage, but speaks to the chorus in twelve long trimeters, and
obviously opens a safe way to the stage by his conciliatory expressions. It is not till
v. 740 that he directs his speech to Gidipus ; and when his overtures are rejected, he
changes his tone, and Gidipus learns with horror that Creon has already got possession

D-2.c. 19

290 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

of the chorus, remaining in the orchestra, call loudly for Theseus,
and he comes in hastily from sacrificing in the neighbouring
temple of Neptune, and therefore through the middle door on
the right. The armed attendants of Creon have already left the
stage with Antigone, probably by the door by which they had
entered. And while Theseus enters into angry conversation
with Creon, who had been detained by the choreute, he sends
word to his followers to march off to the meeting of the roads
to Thebes and there to intercept the runaways. There is no
reason to suppose that the horsemen and foot-soldiers of Theseus
(vy. 899) pass over the stage. It would be more natural to imagine
them as pursuing their march on the other side of the sacred grove
which forms the center of the scene. As Creon is to be the guide
of Theseus (v. 1025), they must leave the stage by the middle
door on the left by which the former had entered, and of course
Theseus re-enters (vy. 1099) by the same opening.

It is stated (v. 1158) that Polyneices was a suppliant at the
altar of Neptune, where Theseus was sacrificing when he was
interrupted by the outrage of Creon. He therefore enters (v. 1249)
by the middle docr on the right, and makes his exit by the same
way (v. 1447).

The three peals of thunder (vv. 1456, 1462, 1479) accompanied

of Ismene and is intending to carry off his other daughter also. Hereupon Cidipus
implores the aid of the chorus, which at once forbids the meditated violence ; Creon
however beckons to his attendants to carry off the maiden, whom he has obviously
seized with his own hands; these followers, who had been left in the orchestra, mount
the steps and compel the chorus to give way, in spite of their protestations against a
wrong which they are unable to prevent (Vv. 839: my ‘rlraco’ a ph Kpare’s). It is
therefore a case in which the chorus and actors come into personal contact (Geppert,
Uch. d. Bingéiinge, p. 30). It is possible to explain particular expressions of the chorus
by the supposition that different choreute are speaking; but the only way to conceive
the character of the separate words is to consider them as induced by the course of the
action. How could we explain the decided expressions of v. 824,

xdpe, dv’, Ew Odocor oiire yap Ta viv
dlkava mpdooes, ol’ & mpbobe elpyaca,

immediately followed by the helpless rl 5pas, téve; of v. 829, and by the feeble declara-
tion of v. 831, 3 £é”’ ob Slkaca Spas? How incongruous would be the threat of v. 839,

rl dpas, & kév’; otk adjres; tax’ els Bdoavoy el xepar,

if Antigone had not been conducted through the orchestra. The silence of the chorus
during the act of violence, vv. 844—847, is the consequence of. their flight before
Creon’s myrmidons. After these have withdrawn (v. 856) Creon is left alone face to
face with the chorus, and the words éricxes a’rod, féve, are easily explained, if the
chorus thinks it can cut off his retreat (v. 857: odro o’ a¢jow). At this point the
chorus must either be on the stage, of which I can find no trace, or by occupying the
steps from the orchestra is cutting off Creon’s retreat, in which case he must be
intending to depart by way of the orchestra.”

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 291

by lightning, which presage the death of Cidipus, must have been
audible and visible to the spectators, and the Spovretov and xepav-
vooxoretov could not have been used with greater effect. The
mirrors of the latter may have been so arranged as to throw a
glare of light on the chorus (v. 1477).

It is obvious that, with Qidipus leading the way, the two
princesses, Theseus, and his attendants enter the sacred grove by
the main doorway (vy. 1555). Some little time is supposed to
elapse before the messenger returns with his account of all that
had happened (v. 1579). When his speech is ended, Theseus
returns to the stage with the two princesses (vy. 1670). And
though Theseus promises (vy. 1773) to comply with the request
of Antigone to send her to Thebes, in order, if possible, to prevent
the fratricidal strife of his two brothers, it does not follow that she
and her sister leave the stage by the left-hand side-door, as though
they departed immediately for their native city. It is more reason-
able to suppose that they go with Theseus to Athens, and therefore
make their exit in his company, by the middle door on the right.

It has been already mentioned that the remaining plays of
Sophocles furnish only one example of a complete change of
scenery, and only one of a partial change by the revolution of
the left-hand periactos. The former case is that of the Ajaa.
In the first act of this play, the scene is laid in that part of the
Greek encampment, which lies between the tent of Ajax and
the shore (v. 192: éfarous Kdsolais). The interior of the tent
of Ajax is displayed by means of the eccyclema, and he is seen
surrounded by the cattle which he had slain in his delusion
(vv. 346 sqq.). He is rolled off the stage by the same means, for
he says (v. 579), ddma maxrov, and (v. 581), male Paooor.
After the stasimon of the chorus (596—645), Ajax comes forth
from his tent, and then departs by the right-hand side-door as
though he was going to the sea (vy. 654: mpos te AouTpa Kat
mapaxtious eyudvas). The messenger enters (v. 719) by the
left-hand side-door as coming from the distant camp of the Greeks,
Tecmessa goes forth to meet him with Eurysaces (v. 787) from the
right-hand middle door, representing her own tent, and the child
re-enters by the same door, when Tecmessa leaves the stage in
pursuit of Ajax by the right-hand side-door. The messenger of
course returns through the left side-door, and the chorus breaking

19—2

292 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

up into the two hemichoria, in which they reappear in the
second act, leave the orchestra by both parodi. The stage being
cleared, the scenery is completely changed. And we have now
an unfrequented spot partially covered with trees, which ren-
ders the search for the body of Ajax more difficult. Tecmessa
stumbles upon it (v. 891) immediately on her re-entrance, and it
may be presumed therefore that Ajax falls before the centre door,
probably behind a tree which masked that entrance. The other
persons who enter in the second act, Teucer, Menelaus, Agamem-
non, and Ulysses, come and return by the left-hand side-door.
It is clear from y. 1115 that Menelaus is accompanied by at least
one herald, and this functionary attends Agamemnon, whom he
goes to fetch. This appears from vv. 1116 and 1319, and justifies
Martin’s conjectures of cod Tod 6paipovos for Tod cod A opaipovos,
in v. 1312. With regard to the only change of the left-hand peri-
actos, of which Sophocles furnishes an example, and which occurs
in the @dipus Tyrannus, it is obvious that in the first part of the
play the left-hand entrance must indicate the road to Delphi, and
probably the left-hand periactos gave a distant view of Parnassus,
to which the chorus alludes (vv. 463 sqq.). But as the messenger
from Corinth enters by the same door on the left (v. 924), it is clear
that the periactos must be turned, so as to exhibit a view of
Citheron or some other indications of the road to the Isthmus.

It has been already mentioned that, in the extant plays of
Euripides, there is no instance of a complete change of scene, and
it would almost seem as though he had wished to make up for that
complication of incident, that succession of plots, to which reference
has been made in a former chapter, by a more rigid adherence to
the unity of place than his great contemporaries had thought neces-
sary. ‘There are, however, several examples of a change of the
left-hand pertactos, which indicated the region from which the
actor, coming from a distance, was supposed to enter the stage. For
instance, in the Orestes, the left-hand pertactos must, in the first
instance, represent generally the road to foreign parts by which
Menelaus enters on his return from Troy (vy. 356); but it must be
turned so as to exhibit a view of part of the city, when Pylades
enters (v. 729), for he says:

Odccov 7 wv expiy mpoBalvay ixbuny bv darews.

In the Andromache the left-hand pertactos must have represented

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 293

at the beginning of the play the road to Pharsalus, for Peleus is
supposed to dwell there (v. 22); it must have represented a different
direction, the road_to Lacedemon, in 746, 879, 1000, for Menelaus
departs for Sparta, Orestes is on his way from the south to the
shrine of Dodona, and Hermione departs in the same direction; and
in 1069 the messenger comes from Delphi, so that there must have
been an exhibition of all three faces of the perdactos. In the Sup-
plices the left pertactos indicates the road to Thebes from which the
herald comes and to which he returns (v. 584); thither Theseus
goes (v. 597 cf. 637); from thence come the messenger (v. 639),
and the seven corpses; also Theseus on his return (cf. 838). This
pertactos, however, is turned to indicate the road to Argos by which
Tphis comes in search of Evadne (v. 1034). In the Electra, the
left-hand pertactos at first represents the road to Delphi by which
Orestes and Pylades make their appearance; but as Electra’s hus-
band makes his exit by the same side in order to go to Lacedemon,
there must be a change of the side-scene for that purpose.

As a sample of the manner in which Euripides put his Trage-
dies on the stage, it will be sufficient to examine the Bacche, which
is not only the most Dionysiac, but also one of the latest and most
elaborate of his plays.. Euripides, however, has left us, in addition
to his Tragedies, a regular Satyric drama, and two tragi-comedies,
which served the same purpose in a Tetralogy; and we must con-
sider also the mode of representation in these two cases.

The scene in the Lacche represents the palace of Pentheus (vv.
69, 646) in the citadel at Thebes (653). Although there may have
been some indications of towers and other fortifications as this last
passage shows (cf. v.172: éripyao aotv OnBaiwy rode), it is clear
that the center of the scene representing the palace itself exhibited
a Doric fagade with columns (591) and a frieze (1214). On the
right of the palace, i.e. on the side leading to the city, there may
have been a distant view of the oracular seat of Teiresias (347:
EhOdv Sé Baxovs TODS iv olwvocKd7er), and on the other side was
seen the sacred memorial of Semele, namely, the spot where the
smouldering ruins of her house stood, which Cadmus had sur-
rounded with a fence and made sacred, and which Bacchus had
enveloped in clusters of the mantling vine:

v. 6: 6p Sé wnrpds pvfua THs Kepavvlas
TOS eyyds olkwy kal dduwv éepelmia

294 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

tupdmeva Alov mupos ere facav prOya

dbdvarov "Hpas pnrép’ eis Euny vBpw.

alva 6é Kddpov, &Barov bs médov 7O0¢€

TlOnot, Buyarpds onkdv' dumédov O€ viv

mépé ey ’kddvya Borpywder xAbn.

396: mip od Netooes ovd aiydfes

Dewéras lepdvy audi radov.
On the left of the palace, but in close contiguity to it (Jul. Poll. 1v.
§ 125: eipxry S& j Xara), and between it and a «A/ovov representing
the stable (v. 509: tmmxais ré\as fatvacw), was seen the en-
trance to a dark and gloomy dungeon (v. 550: cxoriais év eipxtats.
v. 611: és oKxotevds dpxdvas). On the extreme left the perzactos
indicated the road to foreign and distant parts, and on the right
the periactos showed a view of Citheron. If the city of Thebes
was at all indicated it must have been between the right-hand
periactos and the palace, in the same part of the scene where the
auspicial abode of Teiresias was represented. That the road to
Citheron did not pass through the city is clear from y. 840, where
Pentheus asks,

kal w@s 60 dorews eluc Kadpetous \abav;
and Dionysus answers,
ddovs épjmous tue eyw 8 nyjocopat.

If the city was seen at all it must have been that part of Thebes
which lay in the direction of the gate called Electra (v. 781: orety’
ér’ "Hvéxtpas idv widas). The only change in this scenery which
is required by the action of the play is the downfal and conflagra-
tion of the efpxt7 in which Dionysus is imprisoned. It has been
mentioned already that this efpxt7 and the adjoining «déovov stood
immediately to the left of the palace, and therefore between it and
the monument of Semele. According to the description in the
play, the architrave of this building falls asunder, and the columns
are thrown down by the god as he rushes forth (590: iSere Xaiva
xloow éuBora diadpoma tade). At the same time a flame rises from
the sacred tomb of Semele and seems to consume the adjoining edifice
(vv. 596 sqq., and cf. 623: cal pntpos tapw top aviyyev). How
this was managed does not appear. Probably some light wood-
work was allowed to fall, and a smoke was raised at the same
time. We are not to conclude from the expectations of the chorus
(v. 588: raya ta IlevOéws pérabpa Statwakerar Teonpacw), that
the central building, the palace of Pentheus himself, is involved in

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 295

this ruin and conflagration. On the contrary, we must conclude
that, though shaken, it remains standing. For Dionysus summons
Pentheus to come forth from his palace (v. 914: &£6¢ mapoube
dwpareov), and, at the end of the play, distinct reference is made
to the triglyphs of the frieze to which the head of the supposed
lion is to be affixed according to the oldest mode of adorning the

Zophorus (vy. 1212 sqq.):
alpés0w NaBav
7KT@V pds olkous K\iuaKwY mpocauBacers
ws Taccahevon KpaTa Tpry\Umos Td5€
Aéovros, bv mdpeyu Onpetdoas eye.

Cf. 1238 sqq.:

pepw & &v @révatow, ws opas, Tdade

AaBotca Tapioreta color pds Sbuos

ws av KpeuacOy. ~
When therefore Dionysus says (v. 633), daar’ eppnEev yapate
cuvteOpavwrat 8 arayv, he refers only to the prison, for at the very
time he makes this statement he says that he has come forth from
the house (636: jaovyos 8 éxBas eyo Swpatav Kew Tpds vas);
that he hears the foot-fall of Pentheus within his palace (638:
vropel yovv apBvAyn Souwv éow); and that he will soon come forth
to the vestibule (és wpovem’ adriy’ Het).

The progress of the action and the entrances and exits of the
performers are easily described. At the opening of the play Dio-
nysus is supposed to come from distant regions; he enters by the
left-hand periactos, and the chorus, who came from Asia with him,
appear after the prologue, by the corresponding parodos (vy. 65).
As the god says that he is going to Citheron to join his worship-
pers there, he must cross the stage and make his exit (64) by the
right-hand periactos. After the first choral song (170) Teiresias
enters from the city, i.e. by the right side-door, and summons
Cadmus, who comes forth from the middle door, or from the palace
(178). As Pentheus has been abroad, he must make his first
entrance, like Dionysus, from the left pervactos (215). Cadmus
and Teiresias leave the stage by the right pervactos (369), and by
the same entrance the satellites of Pentheus, who had remained on
the stage during the chorus, appear (434), bringing Dionysus with
them. At the end of the act (518) the god is conveyed to the
prison, which, as has been mentioned, was to the left of the
palace. And it appears from v. 616 that Pentheus accompanies
him, for the purpose of putting on the chains with his own hands.

296 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

There was obviously a passage from the prison to the palace, and
Dionysus (603, cf. 635), and afterwards Pentheus (652), come forth
from the center door. By the same door the king (846), and after-
wards the god (861, ef. 929), leave the stage to equip Pentheus in
his bacchic attire. Of course they reappear by the center door
(912), and depart by the right-hand periactos (976) on their way to
Citheron. The messenger naturally enters (1025) by the ‘same
periactos, and it may be concluded that he goes into the palace
(1152). From the right periactos we have the successive entrances
of Agave with the head of her son (1166), and of Cadmus with the
corpse of Pentheus borne after him by his attendants (1216). As
Dionysus declares himself at the end of the play in his divine
character, it is obvious that he must appear surrounded by clouds
on the balcony of the scene (1332). There is a lacuna in the text
at this part, but there can be no doubt as to the nature of the
theophany. The god vanishes as he appeared; Agave flees from
the stage in the opposite direction to Citheron (v. 1383); and the
rest of the actors enter the palace by the middle door. The chorus,
consisting of the Asiatic followers of Dionysus, leave the orchestra
as they had entered it, by the parodos on the left.

The following was obviously the distribution of the parts among
the three actors :

Protagonist: Dionysus, Teiresias, and the second messenger.
Deuteragonist : Cadmus, servant, first messenger.
Tritagonist : Pentheus, Agave.

The chorus, which consisted of fifteen women, was perhaps in-
tended to represent the fourteen yepapat of the Anthesteria, with
the King-Archon’s wife at their head}. They were dressed in Asi-
atic style?, with bare feet®, and the Lydian head-tire*; and they
performed their dances, which, according to the metres of the cho-
ruses, had a peculiarly martial character, to the accompaniment of
some flute-players, and probably beat time with timbrels and cym-
bals which they carried in their hands®.

As the Cyclops of Euripides is the only complete satyrical

1 ¥. G. Schoen, de Person. Habitu in Eurip. Bacch. p. 73.

A .Id, p..t30:

3 Bacch. 860: dp év ravvuxiows xopots Ojtw more Nevkov 166’ dvaBaxxevovca. Cf.
Cyclops, 72: Nevxdrodas Baxxas; see Schoen, pp. 155, 6

4 Schoen, p. 141. o'tdep: 12%.

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 297

drama which has come down to us, we must briefly consider the
distinctive features of its representation. The scene of the play is
the coast of Sicily near mount Adtna, which was probably shown in
the background. ‘The middle door was the entrance to the cavern
in the rock, which served as the dwelling of Polyphemus. The
right-hand pertactos indicated a road leading to the interior of the
island, and that to the left showed the approach from the coast.
Between the latter and the cavern was the «A/cvov, in this case
representing the stable for the cattle and sheep of the Cyclops—the
avrg (v. 363), from which Ulysses and his companions were about
to furnish themselves with provisions (v. 222, cf. 188). It does not
appear that any doors were used except the center door and the two
periacti; in all probability a large portion of the centre of the
stage was occupied by the rocky abode of the Cyclops; and it is
clear that at the end Polyphemus climbs to the top of the rock, i.e.
to the baleony, by a narrow passage between his own cavern and
the left of the stage, so as to make his exit by the left-hand door
on the balcony, while Ulysses and his friends leave the stage as
they had entered it by the left-hand periactos. For Ulysses says,
v. 702, eyo o ém axtas ets, and the Cyclops, threatening to smash
his ship with a fragment of the rock on which he was (v. 704:
THOS aToppyéas wéTpas), adds (706):
dvw 6’ ém’ dxOov clus Kalrep dy Tuddés,
bv dudirpiros THade mpocBaivwy todl.

At the beginning of the piece Silenus comes forth from the middle
door to which he returns (in 174), to make his second entry from
the same place (188). Ulysses and his sailors come in from the
left, where the periactos gave a view of the coast and of their ship
(v. 85). The Cyclops enters from the extreme right, and is some-
time in reaching the center of the stage, for he is seen at v. 193,
and does not speak till v. 203. The chorus of satyrs had of course
entered by the right-hand parodos, but the concluding words show
that they follow Ulysses by the left-hand exit from the orchestra.
The center door serves for the exits of the Cyclops (546), and Ulysses
(355). The latter (375) and the Cyclops with Silenus (503) come
forth from the middle door, and leave the stage by it at 607 and
590 respectively. By the same door Ulysses returns (624), goes in
(653), and reappears with the Cyclops and his sailors (663).

The chorus of satyrs, although it seems to take an active part

298 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

in the progress of the plot, manifestly does not leave the orchestra,
its proper place. ‘The allusions in the parodos to the pastoral em-
ployments of the satyrs, who had left the service of Bacchus for
that of the Cyclops, are probably connected with the mimic action
introduced into their sicinnis. It is clear, however, that living
sheep were introduced on the stage (vv. 188, 224), and certain
supernumeraries, who acted as servants of the chorus and were
perhaps also in part at least attired as satyrs, drive the cattle into
the side-cavern or xAdovov after the entrance of the chorus, for
Silenus says to the satyrs (v. 82),
avynzat’, 3 réxv’, dvrpa 8” els merpnpedh
moluvas G9potcar mpoomb\ous KeXevoaTeE,

and these mutes are dismissed from the stage with the order yw-
petre. As only two or three of such attendants would be required
for the purpose of driving the sheep, it is unnecessary to suppose
with Schénborn that the same supernumeraries reappeared as the
sailors of Ulysses. There would certainly not have been time for the
complete change of costume required, during the four lines spoken
by Silenus before he directly addresses the new-comers, who appear
with xpwacoi suspended from their necks immediately after the de-
parture of the shepherds. The words of Ulysses (100), Lat’pav
Tpos olKols TOVO OuLAOV Eicopa, are quite intelligible on the suppo-
sition that the chorus was in the orchestra near the front of the
stage. And although he says in the plural éxépere (1387, 162), it
is clear that Silenus alone enters the cavern, for he promises in his
own person (163: dpacw tad’, or’yov dpovticas ye Sea7ror@y), and
claims the reward for himself (192). The Cyclops on entering from
the right addresses the chorus, because Silenus has slunk away to
the left with the Greek sailors. It is true that the chorus offers to
take a part in the good work of blinding Polyphemus (471: gdovou
yap Tovse Kowwveiv Oédw), but it is clear that they do not leave the
orchestra (635: pets wév eopev raxpotepov ™po Tov Oupav éEaTa-
Tes); they excuse themselves with undisguised pusillanimity; and
Ulysses is obliged to rely on his own companions (650: toto. &
oixelows pirous ypnabai ’ avayxn). When the deed is done, the
chorus, at a safe distance, gives ludicrous misdirections to the
blinded Cyclops, who knocks his head against the rock as he turns
suddenly to the right at their bidding (v. 683)1.

1 Nauck reads obxért for otk éué, in v. 564; but even without this alteration there
is nO necessity for supposing that one of the satyrs is on the stage.

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 299

That Polyphemus appeared as a giant is necessary to the plot
of the piece, and something more than a cothurnus was required to
give him such a height as would justify him in addressing Ulysses
as avOpwricke (316). How the exaggeration of stature was ma-
naged does not appear, but the experience of our own pantomimes
shows that a very little ingenuity would produce all the necessary
results. One thing seems quite clear—that his enormous mask was
rather of the comic than of the tragic pattern, and that he was re-
presented with a ludicrously extravagant mouth, like an ogre as he
was. The chorus says to him (356), evpetas dapvyyos, © Kixdow,
avacrTomou TO xetdos, and the comic masks show that no limits
were imposed on the dramatic artist in this respect.

The gluttony of Hereules in the Alcestis, which, as we have
seen, took the place of the satyrie drama in the Tetralogy to which
it belonged, places that hero on a footing not altogether unlike that
of Polyphemus in the Cyclops, and it is not improbable that his
mask also partook of the comic character. A Hercules in this
capacity is represented on a vase with a great loaf in one hand and
a club in the other, and in full pursuit of a handmaiden who is
running from him with a pitcher of wine!. Without being quite so
ridiculous as this picture makes him, the Hercules of the Alcestis is
represented as a wine-bibber and a gourmand in the house of
mourning (747 sqq.), and must have reminded the spectators of the
same demi-god as he had appeared in many Comedies. For the
rest, the Alcestis is tragic enough, and the representation did not
differ essentially from that of a regular Tragedy. The scene repre-
sents the palace of Admetus at Phere, which occupies the centre.
The guest-chambers stand by themselves to the left of the palace
(543: yopls Eevdvés eiow, cf. 546 sqq.). The corresponding door
to the right indicates the road to Larissa and the tomb of Alcestis
(835: dpOjv trap oipov, 7) "ri Aapicoay dépet, TUpBov Katorret
Eeotov éx mpoactiov). And while the left hand pertactos represents
the approach from distant parts, the other side-scene shows us the
neighbouring city of Phere, from which the chorus, which enters
the orchestra by the corresponding parodos, is supposed to come.

Apollo comes forth from the middle door (23: Nelo pedabpwv
Tovee Hittatny oréynv), and probably leaves the stage by the left
pertactos (76), from whence also Thanatos had entered syword in

1 Panofka, Mus. Blacas, Pl. xxv1. B; Wieseler, Supplement, Taf. A, No. 26.

300 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

hand (28); for as his functions were confined to the earth, there is
no reason for the supposition that he ascended by the Charonian
steps. From the middle door the handmaiden comes forth (137:
aN 7d drraddv éx Séuwv tis Epyerar), and returns by the same
opening (see y. 209), to announce that the chorus is at hand. This
is of course the entrance for Admetus, Alcestis, and their children
(244, cf. 410), who retire as they came (434). The same door is
used for the entrances of Admetus (509) and the dead Alcestis
(606), and for the exit of the former. Pheres comes and retires by
the right-hand periactos (614, 733). By the same way the funeral
procession leaves the stage, for it is supposed to be accompanied by
the chorus, who depart of course by the corresponding parodos
(740, 746). Hercules enters by the left-hand pertactos (476), and
is conducted to the &evdves at the left of the middle door (550).
From this the servant (747) and he (773) reappear; and Hercules
goes straight to the tomb by the right-hand door (860), by which
he returns with the veiled figure of Alcestis (1006). He does not
meet the funeral procession, which re-enters the stage, as it had
left it, by the pertactos on the right (861). At the end of the play,
Admetus returns to his palace; Hercules goes forth by the left
pertactos to encounter his Thracian adventure; and the chorus de-
parts by the right-hand parodos. Although the chorus undoubtedly
takes a part in the obsequies of Alcestis, there is no reason to sup-
pose that it joins the procession by mounting the stage. A de-
parture by the right parodos, which was close to the right periactos,
would suffice to indicate the junction of the choreute with the
actors and their attendants.

We now pass on to the representation of the ancient Comedies.

The most opposite opinions have been entertained respecting
the scenery of the Acharnians; for while one critic considers it
necessary to suppose a total change of scenery from the Pnyx
at Athens to the farm of Dicseopolis, from this to the house of
Euripides, and then again to the farm in the country!; while
another writer suggests that the Pnyx is represented by the
orchestra, and that the curtain is not dropt till the assembly
breaks up and the chorus enters (v. 204), so that the scenery is
entirely confined to the country?; while a third concludes that
the country place of Dicsopolis was so near to Athens that it

1 Geppert, pp. 164 sqq. 2 Genelli, pp. 257 sqq.

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 301

and the city might both be represented on the stage}; it is held
by the most recent authority that the scene is from first to last
confined to Athens?. This view of the matter seems to us to
be supported by the words of the poet himself. At the point
where the scene must change, if it changes at all, from Athens
to the country, Dicxopolis says distinctly that he will go within
(cfovdv) and celebrate the rural festival of Bacchus (v. 22). This
can only mean that he enters the house already seen on the stage.
Then it is clear that he is at Athens (év "A@nvaios, v. 492), and
at the Lenexa (v. 504), when he makes his final defence in answer
to the chorus. Finally, it is expressly intimated that the market,
which Diczopolis opens, is in the city itself, for the Megarian says
on entering (v. 730): a@yopa ’y ’A@avais yaipe, Meyapetow gira,
«All hail! Market of Athens, dear to the Megarians.” -We have
no doubt then that the scene is from first to last at Athens. The
centre represents the house of Diczopolis, whose part is played
by the protagonist, and the balcony above the center door serves
for the flat roof of the house from which his wife views the festive
procession (v. 262: od 8, 6 ylvat, Bed jv amo Tod TéyoUS).
Dicexopolis performs the ceremonies of the rural Dionysia at
Athens, because, like the other country proprietors, he has been
obliged to take up his abode in the city, and to acquiesce in
the utter ruin of his farm, as he expressly says (v. 512: «apot
yap éotw apa Kexoppéva). Of the two other main doors,
that on the right represents the house of Euripides, that on the
left the house of Lamachus, who must be a near neighbour of
Diceopolis (see vv. 1071 sqq). The right-hand pertactos gave
a view of Athens in the neighbourhood of the Pnyx, and the
benches (£/Aa) are placed on that side of the stage for the com-
mittee-men and the other representatives of the assembly (see
y. 25). The left-hand jperiactos represents first the road to
Lacedemon (v. 175) and Megara (v. 728), and it is turned to
represent the road to Thebes (v. 860). At the beginning of the
play, Diexopolis enters from the center door and proceeds
towards the right where he takes his place in the Pnyx. The
herald, with the committee-men (aputaveus), Amphitheus and
the other citizens, enter (v. 40) from the door behind the mght-
hand periactos. From the same side the ambassadors appear

1 Bickh, dber die Lenien, p. gt. 2 Schénborn, pp. 307 sqq.

302 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

(v. 61), and after them the ridiculous figure of Pseudartabas
(v. 94), who, as “the king’s eye,” has a monstrous orifice in his
mask, resembling the port-hole of an Athenian trireme with the
leather-bag below to prevent it from shipping water (v. 97: doxop’
éyeis tov mepl Tov opOarpov Katw). These are followed by the
Thracian mercenaries (v. 155), who steal the garlick of Diczeopolis ;
and Amphitheus, who had been ejected by the Prytanes (v. 58),
reappears from the right (v. 129), in order to cross the stage to
the left (v. 132) with the commission to buy eight shillings’ worth
of peace for Dicwopolis. From the left periactos he returns (175),
pursued by the Acharnians, who of course enter by the left-hand
parodos (v. 204); Amphitheus continues his flight into the city,
and Diczopolis retires to his own house, from whence he reappears
with his family (237). The chorus interrupt the festivities by
actually throwing stones on the stage (284). The Acharnians
are brought to terms by the production of the basket of charcoal,
made to resemble a child év omapyavois, which Diceopolis fetches
from his house (v. 331); and he also goes in to procure the
chopping-block on which he is to plead his cause (v. 359: éiEnvov
efeveyxav Ovpave). A question arises as to the scene with Ku-
ripides. Many commentators, and even the latest writers on this
play!, supposes that Euripides and his servant appear on the
balcony or second story of the scene. But in this, as we think,
they have been misled by the Scholiast, who has not understood
the Greek of his author, and we conceive that the direct reference
to the ékx’ckAnua must be accepted as a proof of the fact that
Euripides is shown in the interior of his house, but on the level
of the stage. The words of the original run thus (vv. 394
sqq.) :
AIK. mat rat. KH®. ls otros; AIK. &vdov &or’ Evpiridns ;
KH®. otk &iov éviov éorly, el yvmunv execs.
AIK, és e&éov, elr’ odk evdov; KH. 6p0as, 3 yépov.
6 vods ev Ew cud\r\éywv éri’\ua
ovk eviov, ards 5 &vdov dvaBddnv moet
tpaywolayv. AIK. & tpicpaxdpe’ Evperidn,
80’ 6 Soddos obTwal cops vroxplverat.
éxxddecov adréy. KH, ad’ advvarov.
AIK, adn’ duws.
ob yap av dré\Ooww’, adda Koyw Thy Odpar.
Evpirlin, Evperisdioy,

1 See Brunck on y. 411, and Schénborn, p. 311.

EYP.
AIK.
AIK,
ETP.
AIK.

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 303

tmrdxovooy elrep twror avOpdrwv Tul,
Acxalomo\ts Kael oe, Xoddetdns, éyd,
an’ ov cxOA7.
GN éxxuxAnOnr’. EYP. add’ ddvvaror.

GN’ buws.
GNN’ éxxuKAjoomat’ KaraBalvew 5’ od cxond?.
Hipirldn, EYP. rl NéXaxas. AIK. dvaBddnv motets,
éov KaraBddnv; ovK eros xwAovs trocets.

The meaning of this must be as follows:

Dic.
CEPH
Dic.

What ho! Crpa. Who’s there? Dic. Euripides within?

. Within and not within, if you can think.

How can he be within and not within?

CrrH. Rightly, old man. His mind collecting scraps,

Die.

CEPH
Dic.

Eur.
Dic.
Eur.
Dic.
Eur.

Dre.
Eur.
Dic,

Is all abroad, and so is not within;

But he himself is making tragedy

With feet reposed upon his couch at home.
Thrice-blest Euripides, whose very slave
Can act so well his master’s character!
But call him out.

A It cannot be.

It must;
For I will not depart, but go on knocking.
Euripides! Euripides, my boy!
List to my words, if ever mortal man
Secured your ear. "Tis Diczopolis
By deme Cholleides, who is calling you.
But I’ve no time.
Well, let them wheel you round.
It cannot be,
Tt must.
Well, I'll allow them
To wheel me round, but I can’t leave my couch.
Euripides!
What say’st thou?
Do you write
With feet laid up, when you might set them down?
Yow re just the man to be the cripples’ poet.

This passage is plain enough to any one, who knows Greek ;
but the Scholiast, who did not see that cataBaivey is to be ex-

plained by

kataBadnv opposed to avaBadny, and means merely

to get off the couch or sofa, on which the tragedian was reclining,

substitutes

katedGeiv, and adds that Euripides gaiverae éml ris

aKnvns petéwpos. Independently of the plain construction of the

Greek, the

context shows that this was not the case. For first,

the eccyclema was not and could not be used on the balcony or

304 ON THE REPRESENTATION OF CERTAIN

second story of the stage; secondly, Diczeopolis knocks at the door
until the interior is opened by the eccyclema; thirdly, Euripides
gives the rags to his visitor, who must have been on a level with
him to take them from his hands; and fourthly, when he wishes to
relieve himself from the intruder he says (479), KAele mnKTa Sapa-
twv, Which is the same sort of order as that by which Ajax in
Sophocles (Ajaw, 581: mixate Odccov. 593: od Evvép&el as
taxos;) directs the closing of the inner view of his tent by
wheeling round the eccyclema. We have no doubt therefore that
the interior is similarly displayed on the level of the stage im
the Acharnians. After his apologetic speech and the scene with
Lamachus, Diczopolis retires into his house (625), and the Para-
basis follows. He then returns by the centre door and sets up the
boundaries of his market (6p0. ayopas—probably ropes or poles)
in the centre of the stage. The Megarian (729), the Bceotian (860),
and the Attic farmer (1018) enter from the left: the sycophant
(818), Nicarchus (908), the herald (1000), bridesman (1048) and
the herald (1071) enter from the right. Lamachus and his servant
(1179, 1190) of course return to the stage from the left. There
seems to be no reason to suppose! that there is another use of
the eccyclema in order to exhibit the culinary preparations. of
Diceopolis. It is clear that he is outside, for he says (v. 1098),
dép éEw Sedpo, and (v. 1102), oxrjow 8 éxe?, so that his direc-
tions about the fire (vy. 1014) are addressed to his servants within,
who are not necessarily visible. As Diceopolis is to sup with
the Priest of Bacchus (v. 1887), he goes off to the city, i.e.
by the right-hand door (v. 1142), and returns by the same way,
supported by the dancing-girls (1198), having won the prize in
the apidXra Tod yoos (1202). Lamachus is carried off to the right
to the house of Pittacus, the surgeon, (1226); and shortly after
Diceopolis makes his exit by the same door, for he is going to
the King-Archon to receive his prize; and at the same time the
chorus, whom he invites to follow him, go off by the right-hand
parodos.

After this specimen of the manner in which a Comedy was put
on the stage, it is not necessary to discuss the performance of all
the plays of Aristophanes. It is only necessary to mention that
the upper story of the scene, or the balcony, is freely used in

1 This is Schénborn’s opinion, p. 311.

TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES IN PARTICULAR. 305

some of the plays, especially in the Birds and the Peace, and that
there is a complete change of scenery in the following Comedies—
in the Birds at v. 1565, where the city of Nephelococcygia is seen
for the first time; in the Lcclesiazuse at v. 877, where it is clear
that we are no longer in the neighbourhood of the house of Prax-
agora (see vv. 1125, 1128), which had formed the center of the
scene in the previous part of the play; in the Frogs, where the first
act represents the house of Hercules and the Acherusian lake
(1—270), and the second act the subterraneous regions with the
palace of Pluto; in the Thesmophoriazuse, where the first act gives
us the house of Agathon (1—279), and the second act the Thes-
mophorion; and in the Lysdstrata, where the first act gives us
a street in Athens with the heroine’s house in the center (1—253),
and the second act exhibits the Acropolis with its propylea. In
the last-mentioned play, as has been already intimated, there are
four or five changes of the left-hand periactos. There is no change
of scene in the Clouds; but Strepsiades and his son are shown
in their beds at the beginning of the Comedy by means of an
eccyclema, and it is expressly stated that the phrontisterion of
Socrates is managed by a parencyclema, that is, by a practicable
building projected at the side of the stage!, which admits of being
destroyed at the end of the play. The xpewafpa, on which
Sopheeles is first seen (v. 218), was not a basket, for he says
(225), depoBard, but a sort of shelf, connected no doubt with
the balcony of the scene.

1 See above, p. 239.

D. 1: G. 20

APPENDIX’TO PARTE:

ON THE ROMAN THEATRE.

(From Schlegel’s Lighth Lecture.)

Roman Theatre. Native varieties. Atellane Fables, Mimes, Comeedia Togata. Greek Tragedy
transplanted to Rome. Tragedians of the more ancient epoch, and of the Augustan age. Idea
of a kind of Tragedy peculiarly Roman, but which never was realized. Why the Romans were
never particularly happy in Tragic Art. Seneca.

N treating of the Dramatic Literature of the Romans, whose Theatre is every way im-
mediately attached to that of the Greeks, we have only to remark, properly speak-
ing, one vast chasm, partly arising from the want of proper creative genius in this
department, partly from the loss of almost all their written performances, with the
exception only of a few fragments. The only extant works of the good classical
age are those of Plautus and Terence, of whom I have already spoken as imitators of
the Greeks.

Poetry in general had no native growth in Rome. It was not till those later
times, in which the original Rome, by aping foreign manners, was drawing nigh to
her dissolution, that poetry came to be artificially cultivated among the other devices
of luxurious living. In the Latin we have an instance of a language modelled into
poetical expression, altogether after foreign forms of grammar and metre. This
approximation to the Greek was at first effected with much violence: the Gracism
extended even to rude interpolation of foreign words and phrases. Gradually the
poetic style was softened: of its former harshness we may perceive in Catullus the
last vestiges, which however are not without a certain rugged charm. The language
rejected those syntactical constructions, and especially the compounds, which were too
much at variance with its own interior structure, and could not be lastingly agreeable
to Roman ears; and at last the poets of the Augustan age succeeded in effecting
the happiest possible incorporation between the native and the borrowed elements.
But scarcely was the desired equipoise obtained, when a pause ensued: all free
development was impeded, and the poetical style, notwithstanding its apparent
elevation into a bolder and more learned character, had irretrievably imprisoned itself
within the round of the phraseology it had once adopted. Thus the Latin language
in poetry enjoyed but a brief interval of bloom between its unfashioned state and its
second death. With the spirit also of their poetry it fared no better.

It was not by the desire to enliven their holiday leisure by exhibitions, which bear
away one’s thoughts from the real world, that the Romans were led to the invention
of theatrical amusements; but in the disconsolateness of a dreary pestilence, against

ON THE ROMAN THEATRE. 307

which all remedies seemed unavailing, they first caught at the theatrical spectacle, as
an experiment to propitiate the wrath of the gods, the exercises and games of the
cireus having till then been their only public exhibitions. But the /Tistriones, whom
for this purpose they called in from Etruria, were only dancers, and probably not
mimetic dancers, but merely such as endeavoured to amuse by the adroitness of their
movements. Their oldest spoken dramas, those which were called the Atellane Fables’,
the Romans borrowed from the Oscans, the original inhabitants of Italy. With these
Satwree (so called because they were at first improvisatory farces, without dramatic
coherence, for Satwra means a medley) they rested satisfied till Livius Andronicus,
more than five hundred years after the building of Rome, began to imitate the Greeks,
and introduced the regular kinds of drama, namely, Tragedy, and New Comedy, for
the Old was from its nature incapable of being transplanted.

Thus the Romans were indebted to the Etruscans for the first notion of the stage-
spectacle, to the Oscans for the effusions of sportive humour, to the Greeks for a
higher cultivation. In the comic department, however, they showed more original
genius than in Tragedy. The Oscans, whose language, early extinct, survived only in
those farces, were at least so near akin to the Romans, that their dialect was imme-
diately intelligible to Latin hearers: for how else could the Atellane Fables have
afforded them any entertainment? So completely indeed did they naturalize this
diversion among themselves, that noble Roman youths exhibited the like performances
at the festivals: on which account the actors, whose regular profession it was to
exhibit the Atellane Fables, stood exempt, as privileged persons, from the infamy
attached to other theatrical artists, namely, exclusion from the tribes, and likewise
enjoyed an immunity from military service.

Moreover the Romans had their own Mimes. The unlatin name of these little
pieces certainly seems to imply an affinity to the Greek Mimes; but in their form they
differed considerably from these, and doubtless they had local truth of manners, and
the matter was not borrowed from Greek exhibitions.

It is singular, that Italy has possessed from of old the gift of a very amusing
though somewhat rude buffoonery, in extemporaneous speeches and songs with accom-
panying antics, though it has seldom been coupled with genuine dramatic taste. The
latter assertion might easily be justified by examination of what has been achieved in
that country in the higher departments of the drama down to the most recent times.
The former might be substantiated by many characteristic traits, which at present
would carry us too far from our subject into the Saturnalia and the like. Even of the
wit which prevails in the speeches of Pasquino and Marforio, and the well-aimed
popular satire on events of the day, many vestiges may be found even in the times of
the emperors, who were not generally favourable to such liberties. More to our
present purpose is the conjecture, that in the Mimes and Atellane Fables we perhaps
have the earliest germ of the Commedia dell’ Arte, of the improvisatory farce with
standing masks. A striking affinity between these and the Atellanes appears in the
employment of dialects to produce a droll effect. But how would Harlequin and
Pulcinello be astonished to learn that they descend in a straight line from the buffoons
of the old Romans, nay, of the Oscans?! How merrily would they thank the anti-
quarian who should trace their glorious genealogical tree to such a root! From the
Greek vase-paintings, we know that there belonged to the grotesque masks of the

1 [On the Atellane, see Varronianus, pp. 156 foll. ed. 111.]
2 [Varronian. p. 163; above, p. 258.]

20—2

308 ON THE ROMAN THEATRE.

Old Comedy a garb very much resembling theirs: long trousers, and a doublet with
sleeves, articles of dress otherwise strange both to Greeks and Romans. To this day,
Zanni is one of Harlequin’s names; and Sannio in the Latin farces was the name of
a buffoon, who, as ancient writers testify, had his head shorn, and wore a dress pieced
together out of gay party-coloured patches. The very image and likeness of Pulcinello
is said to have been found among the fresco-paintings of Pompeii. If he derives his
extraction originally from Atella, he has his local habitation still pretty much in the
old land of his nativity. As for the objection, how these characters could be tradi-
tionally kept up notwithstanding a suspension of all theatrical amusements for many
centuries together, a sufficient answer may be found in the yearly licences of the
carnival, and the fools’-holidays of the middle ages.

The Greek mimes were dialogues written in prose, and not intended for the stage.
Those of the Romans were composed in verse, were acted, and often delivered extem-
pore. The most famous authors in this department were Laberius and Syrus, contem-
poraries of Julius Cesar. He, as dictator, by his courtly request compelled Laberius,
a Roman knight, to exhibit himself publicly in his mimes, though the scenic profession
was branded with the loss of civil rights. Laberius made his complaint of this in
a prologue which is still extant, and in which the painful feeling of annihilated self-
respect is nobly and touchingly expressed. It is not easy to conceive how in such
a state of mind he could be capable of cracking ludicrous jokes, and how the audience,
with so bitter an example of a despotic act of degradation before their eyes, could find
pleasure in them. Czsar kept his word: he gave Laberius a considerable sum, of
money, and invested him anew with the equestrian rank, which however could not
reinstate him in the opinion of his fellow-citizens. But he took his revenge for the
prologue and other allusions!, by awarding the prize against Laberius to Syrus, once
the slave, and afterwards the freedman and pupil of Laberius in the art of composing
mimes. Of Syrus’s mimes there are still extant a number of sentences, which in
matter and terse conciseness of expression deserve to be ranked with Menandev’s..
Some of them even transcend the moral horizon of serious Comedy itself, and assume
an almost stoic sublimity. How could the transition be effected from vulgar jokes to
such sentiments as these? And how could such maxims be at all introduced, without
a development of human relations as considerable as that exhibited in the perfect
Comedy? At all events, they are calculated to give one a very favourable idea of the
mimes. Horace indeed speaks disparagingly of Laberius’ mimes, considered as works
of art, either on account of the arbitrary manner in which they were put together, or
their carelessness of execution. Yet this ought not of itself to determine our judg-
ment against them, for this critical poet, for reasons which it is easy to conceive, lays
much greater stress upon the diligent use of the file, than upon original boldness and
fertility of invention. A single entire mime, which time however has unfortunately
denied us, would clear up the matter much better than the confused notices of gram-
marians, and the conjectures of modern scholars.

The regular Comedy of the Romans was mostly padliata, that is, exhibited in the
Grecian costume, and representing Grecian manners. This is the case with all the
Comedies of Plautus and Terence. But they had also a Comedia togata, so called
from the Roman garb, usually worn in it. Afranius is mentioned as the most famous

1 What an inward humiliation for Cesar, could he have foreseen, that after a few generations, his
successor in the despotism, Nero, out of a lust for self-dishonour, would expose himself repeatedly
to infamy in the same manner as he, the first despot, had exposed a Roman of the middle order, not
without exciting general indignation !

ON THE ROMAN THEATRE. 309

author in this way. Of these Comedies we have nothing whatever remaining, and
find so few notices on the subject, that we cannot even decide with certainty, whether
the ¢ogate were original Comedies of home growth, or only Grecian Comedies recast
with Roman manners. The last is more probable, as Afranius lived in the older
epoch, when Roman genius had not even begun to stir its wings towards original
invention ; and yet on the other hand it is not easy to conceive how the Attic Comedies
could have been adapted, without great violence, to a locality so entirely different.
The tenour of Roman life was in general earnest and grave, though in personal
intercourse they had no small turn for wit and joviality. The difference of ranks
among the Romans had its political boundaries very strongly marked, the wealth of
private persons was often almost regal; their women lived much more in society, and
played a much more important part there than the Grecian women did; by virtue of
which independence they also took their full share in the profligacy which went hand-
in-hand with exterior refinement. The differences being so essential, an original
Roman Comedy would be a remarkable phenomenon, and one that would exhibit this
sovereign nation in quite a new point of view. That this was not effected in the
Comedia togata, is proved by the indifference with which the ancients express them-
selves on the subject. Quintilian does not scruple to say, that Latin literature limps
worst in Comedy. This is his expression, word for word.

To come to Tragedy ; we must remark in the first place, that in Rome, the acting
of the borrowed Greek Tragedy was considerably dislocated by the circumstance, that
there was no place for the Chorus in the Orchestra, where the principal spectators, the
Knights and Senators, had their seats: the Chorus therefore appeared on the stage.
Here then was the very incongruity, which we alleged as an objection to the modern
attempts to introduce the Chorus. Other deviations also, scarcely for the better, from
the Greek style of acting, were favourably received. At the very first introduction of
regular plays, Livius Andronicus, a Greek by birth and Rome’s first tragic poet and
actor, in his monodies (viz. those lyric parts which were to be sung by a single person
and not by the Chorus) separated the song from the mimetic dance, only the latter
being left to the actor, while the singing part was performed by a boy stationed beside
the flute-player. Among the Greeks in their better times, both the tragic song and
the rhythmical gesticulation which accompanied it were certainly so simple, that
a single individual might do ample justice to both. But the Romans, it seems,
preferred isolated excellence to harmonious union. Hence, at a later period, their
avidity for the pantomimes, which attained to great perfection in the times of Augus-
tus. To judge from the names of the most famous performers in this kind, e. g. Pylades
and Bathyllus, it was by Greeks that this dumb eloquence was exercised in Rome, and
the lyric parts, which were expressed by their gesticulative dance, were delivered in
Greek. Lastly, Roscius, and probably not he-alone, frequently played without
a mask: of which procedure there never was an instance, so far as we know, among
the Greeks. It might further the display of his art; and here again, the satisfaction
which this gave the Romans proves, that they had more taste for the disproportion-
ately conspicuous talent of a virtuoso, than for the harmonious impression of a work
of art considered as a whole.

In the Tragic Literature of the Romans, two epochs may be distinguished; the
older epoch of Livius Andronicus, Nevius, Ennius, also of Pacuvius and Attius, both
which last flourished awhile later than Plautus and Terence; and the polished epoch
of the Augustan age. The former produced none but translators and remodellers of
Greek works, yet probably succeeded better and with more fidelity in the tragic than

310 ON THE ROMAN THEATRE.

in the comic department. Sublimity of expression is apt to turn out somewhat awk-
wardly in an untutored language; it may be reached, however, by an effort; but to
hit off the careless gracefulness of social wit requires natural humour and fine cultiva-
tion. We do not possess (any more than in the case of Plautus and Terence) even a
fragment of a version from an extant Greek original, to help us to a judgment of the
accuracy and general success of the copy; but a speech of some length from Attius’
Prometheus Unbound is nowise unworthy of Aischylus ; its metre! also is much more
careful than that of the Latin comedians usually is. This earlier style was brought to
great perfection by Pacuvius and Attius, whose pieces seem to have stood their ground
alone on the tragic stage in Cicero’s times and even later, and to have had many ad-
mirers. Horace directs his jealous criticism against these, as he does against all the
other more ancient poets.

The contemporaries of Augustus made it their ambition to compete with the
Greeks in a more original manner; not with equal success, however, in all depart-
ments. The rage for attempts at Tragedy was particularly great; works of this kind
by the Emperor himself are mentioned. There is therefore much to favour the con-
jecture, that Horace wrote his Lpistle to the Pisos, principally with a view of deterring
these young men, who, perhaps without any true call to such a task, were bitten by
the mania of the day, from so critical an undertaking. One of the chief tragedians of
this age was the famous Asinius Pollio, a man of a violently impassioned character, as
Pliny says, and who was partial to the same character in works of fine art. He it
was who brought with him from Rhodes and set up in Rome the well-known group of
the Farnese Bull. If his Tragedies bore but about the same relation to those of
Sophocles, as this bold, wild, but somewhat overwrought group does to the still
sublimity of the Niobe, their loss is still very much to be lamented. But Pollio’s
political greatness might easily dazzle the eyes of his contemporaries as to the true
value of his poetical works. Ovid tried his hand upon Tragedy, as he did upon so
many other kinds of poetry, and composed a Medea, To judge from the drivelling
common-places of passion in his Heroides, one would expect of him, in Tragedy, at
best an overdrawn Euripides. Yet Quintilian asserts, that here he showed for once
what he might have accomplished, if he had but kept himself within bounds, rather
than give way to his propensity to extravagance.

These and all the other tragic attempts of the Augustan age have perished. We
cannot exactly estimate the extent of our loss, but to all appearance it is not extra-
ordinarily great, In the first place, the Greek Tragedy laboured there under the
disadvantage of all transplanted exotics: the Roman worship indeed was in some
measure allied to that of the Greeks (though not nearly so identical with it as many
suppose), but the heroic mythology of the Greeks was altogether indebted to the poets
for its introduction into Rome, and was in no respect interwoven with the national
recollections, as it was in such a multitude of ways among the Greeks. There hovers
before my mind’s eye the Ideal of a genuine Roman form of Tragedy, dimly indeed
and in the back-ground of ages, as one would figure to one’s-self a being, that never
issued into reality from the womb of possibility. In significance and form, it would

1 But in what metres may we suppose these tragedians to have translated the Greek Choral Odes?
Pindar’s lyric metres, which have so much resemblance to the tragic, Horace declares to be inimitable
in Latin. Probably the labyrinthine structure of the Choral Strophes was never attempted : indeed
neither Roman language nor Roman ears were calculated for it. Seneca’s Tragedies never take a
higher flight from the anapasts, than to a Sapphic or choriambic verse, the monotonous reiteration of
which is very disagreeable.

ON THE ROMAN THEATRE. | 311

be altogether distinct from that of the Greeks, and religious and patriotic in the old-
Roman sense of the words. Truly creative poetry can only issue from the interior
life of a people, and from religion, which is the root of that life. But the Roman
religion was originally, and before they endeavoured to conceal the loss of its intrinsic
substance by varnishing its outside with borrowed finery, of quite a different spirit
from the religion of the Greeks, The latter had all the plastic flexibility of Art, the
other the unchangeable fixity of the Priesthood. The Roman Faith, and the cere-
monies established on it, were more earnest, more moral, and pious,—more pene-
trating in their insight into Nature, more magical and mysterious than the Grecian
Religion—than that part of it at least which was exoteric to the mysteries, As the
Grecian Tragedy exhibits the free man struggling with destiny, so the spirit of a
Roman Tragedy would be the prostration of all human motives beneath that hallowing
binding force, Religio!, and its revealed omnipresence in all things earthly. But when
the craving for poetry of a cultivated character awoke in them, this spirit had long
been extinct. The Patricians, originally an Etruscan school of priesthood, had be-
come merely secular statesmen and warriors, who retained their hereditary sacerdotal
character only as a political form. Their sacred books, their Vedas, were become
unintelligible to them, not so much by reason of the obsolete letter; as because they
no longer possessed that higher science which was the key to the sanctuary. What
the heroic legends of the Latins might have become under an earlier development,
and what the colouring was that properly belonged to them, we may still see from
some traces in Virgil, Propertius, and Ovid, though even these poets handled them
only as matters of antiquarian interest.

Moreover, though the Romans now at last were for hellenizing in all things, they
wanted that milder spirit of humanity which may be traced in Grecian History,
Poetry, and Art, from the Homeric age downwards. From the severest virtue,
which, Curtius-like, buried all personal inclinations in the bosom of native land, they
passed with fearful rapidity to an equally unexampled profligacy of rapacity and lust.
Never were they able to belie in their character the story of their first founder,
suckled, not at the mother’s breast, but by a ravening she-wolf. They were the
Tragedians of the World’s History, and many a drama of deep woe did they exhibit
with kings led in fetters and pining in the dungeon: they were the iron necessity of
all other nations; the universal destroyers for the sake of piling up at last from the
ruins the mausoleum of their own dignity and freedom, amid the monotonous solitude
of an obedient world. To them it was not given to touch the heart by the tempered
accents of mental anguish, and to run with a light and forbearing hand through the
scale of the feelings. In Tragedy, too, they naturally aimed at extremes, by over-
leaping all intermediate gradations, both in the stoicism of heroic courage, and in the
monstrous rage of abandoned lusts. Of all their ancient greatness nothing remained
to them save only the defiance of pain and death, if need were that they should
exchange for these a life of unbridled enjoyment. This seal, accordingly, of their own
former nobility they stamped upon their tragic heroes with a self-complacent and
vain-glorious profusion.

Lastly, in the age of cultivated Literature, the dramatic poets, in the midst of a
people fond of spectacle, even to madness, nevertheless wanted a public for Poetry.
In their triumphal processions, their gladiatorial games and beast-fights, all the mag-
nificence in the world, all the marvels of foreign climes were led before the eye of

1 [Schlegel adopts the old, but incorrect derivation of relligio from religare ; see Varron. p. 482.]

312 ON THE ROMAN THEATRE.

the spectator; he was glutted with the most violent scenes of blood. On nerves thus
steeled what effect could be produced by the finer gradations of tragic pathos? It was
the ambition of the grandees to display to the people, in a single day, the enormous
spoil of foreign or civil wars, on stages which were generally destroyed immediately
after the use so made of them. What Pliny relates of the architectural decora-
tions of that erected by Scaurus borders on the incredible. When pomp could be
carried no further, they tried to stimulate by novelty of mechanic contrivance. Thus
a Roman at his father’s funeral solemnity had two theatres built with their backs
resting on each other, each moveable on a single pivot in the middle, in such
a manner, that at the end of the play they were wheeled round with all the spec-
tators sitting in them, and formed into a circus, in which games of gladiators were
exhibited. In the gratification of the eyes that of the ears was wholly swallowed
up: rope-dances and white elephants were preferred to every kind of dramatic enter-
tainment; the embroidered purple robe of the actor, Horace tells us, was received
with a general clapping, and so far from attentive and quiet was the great mass of
the people, that he compares their noise to the roar of the ocean or of a forest-covered
mountain in a storm.

Only one specimen of the talents of the Romans for Tragedy has come down to us ;
but it would be unfair to form a judgment from this of the lost works of better times:
I mean, the ten Tragedies which pass under the name of Seneca. Their claim to his
name seems to be very ambiguous: perhaps it is grounded only on a circumstance
which ought rather to have led to a contrary conclusion, viz. that Seneca himself is
one of the dramatis persone in one of them, the Octavia. The learned are divided in
their opinions on the subject. Some assign them partly to the philosopher, partly to
his father the rhetorician: others assume the existence of a poet Seneca distinct from
both. In this point all are agreed, that the plays are not all from one hand, but
belong to different ages even. For the honour of Roman taste, one would fain hold
them to be after-births of a very late «ra of antiquity: but Quintilian quotes a verse
from the Medea}, which we actually find in the extant piece of that name, so that the
plea will not hold good for this play, which seems, however, to be no great deal better
than the rest. We find also in Lucan, a contemporary of Nero, the very same style
of bombast, which distorts every thing great into nonsense. The state of constant
outrage in which Rome was kept by a series of blood-thirsty tyrants, led to similar
outrages upon nature in rhetoric and poetry. The same phenomenon has been
observed in similar epochs of modern history. Under the wise and mild government
of a Vespasian anda Titus, and still more of a Trajan, the Romans returned to a purer
taste. But to whatever age these Tragedies of Seneca may belong, they are beyond
all description bombastic and frigid, utterly devoid of nature in character and action,
full of the most revolting violations of propriety, and so barren of all theatrical effect,
that I verily believe they were never meant to leave the schools of the rhetoricians for
the stage. With the old Tragedies, those highest of the creations of Grecian poetical
genius, these have nothing in common but the name, the exterior form, and the
mythological matter: and yet they set themselves up beside them in the evident
intention of surpassing them, in which attempt they come off like a hollow hyperbole

1 The author of this Medea makes his heroine strangle her children coram populo, in spite of
Horace’s warning, who probably when he uttered it had a Roman example before his eyes, for a
Greek would hardly have committed this error. The Roman tragedians must have had a particular
lust for novelty and effect to seek them in such atrocities.

ON THE ROMAN THEATRE. 313

contrasted with a most heartfelt truth. Every common-place of Tragedy is worried
out to the last gasp; all is phrase, among which even the simplest is foreed and
stilted. An utter poverty of mind is tricked out with wit and acuteness. They
have fancy too, or at least a phantom of it; of the abuse of that faculty, one may
look to these plays for a speaking example. Their persons are neither ideal nor
real men, but misshapen giants of puppets; and the wire that sets them a-going is
at one time an unnatural heroism, at another a passion alike unnatural, which no
atrocity of guilt can appal.

In a history, therefore, of Dramatic Art, I might have wholly passed by the Tra-
gedies of Seneca, but that the blind prejudice in favour of all that remains to us
from antiquity has attracted many imitators to these compositions. They were
earlier and more generally known than the Greek Tragedies. Not merely scholars
destitute of poetical taste have judged favourably of them, nay, have preferred
them to the Greek Tragedies, but even poets have deemed them worth studying.
The influence of Seneca on Corneille’s notion of Tragedy is too plain to be over-
looked; Racine has deigned to borrow a good deal from him in his Phedra (as
may be seen in Brumoy’s enumeration), and nearly the whole of the scene in which
the heroine declares her passion.

And here we close our disquisitions on the productions of Classical Antiquity.

A List of some of the Works, relating, in part at least,
to the Greek Drama, which have been referred to in

the preceding pages.

R. Bentley. Dissertation on the Epistles of
Phalaristenp ylelyprik Goce! Selo itort ly peliondam 1699

A. Bickh. Stattshaushaltung der Athener. . Berlin, 1817
translated by G. C. Lewis . . . London, 1828, and

1842

—— Corpus Inscriptionum Greearum . Berolini, 1828

De Greece Trageedize Principibus . Hetdelberg, 1817
H. F. Clinton. Fasti Hellenici . . . . . Oxford, 1827-34
©: 1 Gruppe., Aviadne.". "| . . serum 1834
K. O. Miller. Eumeniden. . . . . . . Géttingen, 1833-6
Museum Criticum.. . . . . +». » « . Cambridge siiocG

Philological Museum . . Lbid. 1832-3
Schneider. De Originibus Ty goodie et Come-

diz . . . Vratislavie, 1817
Rétscher. Aristophanes und sein Zeitalter. Berlin, 1827
J. W. Siivern. Uber Aristophanes Wolken . Ldid. 1826
(a Uber Aristophanes Alter . . Lbid. 1827

On the Birds of Aristophanes,
translated by W. R. Hamilton . . . . . London, 1835
F. G. Welcker. Die Auschylische Trilogie . Darmstadt, 1824
Nachtrag zu demselben
Frankfurt am Main, 1826

——--——— Der Epische Cyclus. . . . Bonn, 1835
A. Meineke. Historia Critica Comicorum ce
corum, cum Fragmentis . . . Berolini, 1839-44

K. O. Miller. History of the Literature of
Ancient Greece, translated by G. C. Lewis
and J. W. Donaldson. London, 1840-2

new and complete edition . : ‘Soradons 1858*
G. Bernhardy. Grundriss der Griechischen Lit-
teratur, zweiter Theil . nite: Halle: 1845

A. Schénborn. Die Skene der Hellenen . . . Leipsig, 1858
W. H. Kolster. Sophokleische Studien. . . Hamburg, 1859
F. Wieseler. Theatergebiiude und Denkmaler

des Biihnenwesens bei den Griechen und

Rome. wes... os ee rere, lea

1 The paging of both editions of Miiller’s own part of the book is given for the
convenience of those who do not possess the complete work in three volumes.

PAT Sir

EXTRACTS FROM ARISTOTLE, VITRUVIUS,
AND JULIUS POLLUX.

(I)

ARISTOTLES TREATISE ON POETRY.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK,

‘

, “ nik
we

Putt: t. Watiieinn sont eat y .
wit -)

> eeyer y 4 ¥ _

FDO. Baw Ae

i a g

y Wek »

-
Lig “Gg a
: 8) » ¢, " A ,

atid He OR reas Pit +i) fi

-_- _ , \ We
fy 4
VIVA te Oy - Mee ST mesa eee ‘4 iat ‘a
I i . :
v1) if 4 r ve ’
at -» :
j= wet ; 7
q ‘ é
we ee
J rn?

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

HERE can be no doubt that this celebrated treatise on poetry,
which, as I have elsewhere remarked!, was accepted as a sort

of critical gospel at the very time when Aristotle’s philosophical
reputation was at its lowest point, is both incomplete and inter-
polated in the existing text’. With regard to its incompleteness,
this might be inferred from the description of the work given by
the author himself, at the very beginning; for he leads us to expect
(1) a discussion of poetry in general, which we find in the first five
chapters of the existing text; (2) a complete theory of Tragedy,
which we find in chapters 6—22; (3) the doctrine of epic poetry,
which occupies the conclusion of the fragment which has come
down to us; and we ought then to have a discussion of comic and
lyric poetry, which are both missing. If it is supposed that Aris-
totle never fulfilled his intentions, but left the work unfinished, it is
sufficient to answer that the treatise on poetry is not one of the
latest of Aristotle’s works, for he refers to it in the third book of his
Rhetoric (111. 18, § 7), and that too with respect to the nature of
the ludicrous (ep) tév yedolwv), which must have been discussed
in the last part of the work where he treated of Comedy. In the
lists of Aristotle’s works given by Diogenes (vy. 21—27), and the
anonymous writer quoted by Menage (pp. 65—67, Buhle), there is
a distinct reference to two books of the Poetic, and it would not be
unreasonable to conclude that only the first has been preserved.
That the book, as we have it, is not only a fragment, but is also
corrupted by interpolations or scholia which have crept into the text,

1 Hist. of Greek Literature, Vol. 11. p. 293.

2 See Spengel, Munich Transactions, 1837, I. pp. 209 sqq. 5 and F. Ritter’s
edition of the tract, Colonie, 1839.

318 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

can hardly be doubted by any reader who is acquainted with Aris-
totle’s style and method. For example, it is obvious that the
grammatical details in chapters Xx. and XXI. are not in the style of
Aristotle, and with regard to the former, where eight parts of
speech are enumerated, we have the express statement of Diony-
sius of Halicarnassus (de Compositione Verborum, ec. 2, mit.; de Pre-
stantia Demosthenis, p. 1101), and of Quintilian (Inst. Orat. I. 4,
§ 18), that Aristotle and Theodectes reckoned only three parts of
speech. In the following translation I have indicated by brackets
those passages which Ritter regards as interpolations, but I do not
think that there is in every case an equally good reason for the

ejection of the clause.
Je MV ge

(I.)
ARISTOTLE’S
DREA TIS h.-0O.N.2 POT RY.

(2WINING’S TRANSLATION ; WITH OCCASIONAL CORRECTIONS AND NOTES ON
THE ORIGINAL TEXT.)

A. General Introduction.

Y design is to treat of Poetry in general, and of its several species ; Cap, I
| sekker.

YE to inquire what is the proper effect of each; what construction of a pocen of
able, or plot, is essential to a good poem; of what, and how many parts, anole

; : ; : kinds of
ach species consists; with whatever else belongs to the same subject; poetry.

yhich I shall consider in the order that most naturally presents itself
aipéapevor Kata piow TpOtov aro Tv TpuTwv).

Epic poetry, tragedy, comedy, dithyrambics, as also, for the most 1. Means of
art, the music of the flute and of the lyre; all these are, in the most ie
eneral view of them, /mitations (otcat pywjoes TO oivodov): differing,
owever, from each other in three respects, according to the different
neans, the different objects, or the different manner, of their imitation.

For as men, some through art, and some through habit, imitate
arious objects, by means of colowr and figure [and others again by
oice'|; so with respect to the arts above-mentioned, rhythm, words,
nd melody (jvOp0s, Adyos, appovia), are the different means by which,
ither single or variously combined, they all produce their imitation.

For example: in the imitations of the flute and the lyre, and of any
ther instruments capable of producing a similar effect, as the syrina or
ripe, melody and rhythm only are employed. In those of dance, rhythm
lone, without melody, for there are dancers who, by rhythm applied to
resture, express Manners, passions and actions.

The Epopeia imitates by words alone, or by verse, and that verse
nay be either composed of various metres, or confined, according to the

_ 1 Passages inclosed within brackets are supposed to be interpolations.—J. W. D.

320 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

practice hitherto established, to a single species. For we should other-
wise have no general name, which would comprehend the Mimes of
Sophron and Xenarchus, and the Socratic Dialogues; or poems in
iambic, elegiac, or other metres, in which the epic species of imitation
may be conveyed. Custom, indeed, connecting the word zovety, “to
make,” with the name of the metre employed, has denominated some —
elegiac poets, i.e. makers of elegiac verse; others, epic poets, i. e. makers
of hexameter verse: thus distinguishing poets, not according to the
nature of their imitation, but according to that of their metre only. For
even they who compose treatises on medicine, or natural philosophy, in
verse, are denominated Poets: yet Homer and Empedocles have nothing
in common, except their metre; the former, therefore, justly merits the
name of Poet; while the other should rather be called a Physiologist
than a Poet.

So also, though any one should choose to convey his imitation in
every kind of metre, promiscuously, as Cheerémon has done in his Cen-
taur, which is a medley of all sorts of verse, it would not immediately
follow, that on that account merely he was entitled to the name of Poet,
—But of this enough.

There are, again, other species of poetry, which make use of all the
means of imitation, rhythm, melody, and verse. Such are the dithyram-
bic, that of nomes, tragedy, and comedy: with this difference, however,
that in some of these they are employed all together, in others, separately.
And such are the differences of these arts with respect to the means by
which they imitate,

Cap. 11. But, as the objects of imitation are the actions of men (éel d& pipody-

See OF ment. “Of puy.ovpevor mpatrovras), and these men must of necessity be either
good or bad (for on this does character principally depend; the manners
being in al/ men most strongly marked by virtue and vice), it follows
that we can only represent men either as better than they actually are,
or worse, or exactly as they are: just as, in painting, the pictures of
Polygnotus were above the common level of nature; those of Pauson,
below it; those of Dionysius, faithful likenesses.

Now it is evident that each of the imitations above-mentioned will
admit of these differences, and become a different kind of imitation, as it
imitates objects that differ in this respect. This may be the case with
dancing ; with the music of the flute, and of the lyre; and, also, with
the poetry which employs words, or verse, only, without melody or
rhythm: thus, Homer has drawn men superior to what they are; Cleo-
phon, as they are; Hegemon the Thasian, the inventor of parodies, and
Nicochares, the author of the Deliad, worse than they are.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 3821

So, again, with respect to dithyrambics and nomes; in these, too, the
imitation may be as different as that of the Persians by 7%imotheus, and
the Cyclops by Philoxenus.

Tragedy also, and Comedy, are distinguished in the same manner;
the aim of Comedy being to exhibit men worse than we find them, that
of Tragedy, better.

There remains the third difference, that of the manner in which each Cap. nt.
of these objects may be imitated. For the poet, imitating the same %,Mannerof
object, and by the same means, may do it either in narration; and that,
again, either personating other characters [as Homer dves], or in his own
person throughout, without change: or he may imitate by representing
all his characters as real, and employed in the very action itself.

These, then, are the three differenc¥s by which all imitation is dis-
tinguished; those of the means, the object, and the manner (ev ois Te, kat
a, kat ws): so that Sophocles is, in one respect, an imitator of the same
kind with Homer, as elevated characters are the objects of both ; in an-
other respect, of the same kind with Aristophanes, as both imitate in
the way of action. [Whence, according to some, the application of the
term Drama, i.e. action, to such poems. Upon this it is that the
Dorians ground their claim to the invention both of Tragedy and
Comedy. For Comedy is claimed by the Megarians, both by those of
Greece, who contend that it took its rise in their popular government ;
and by those of Sicily, among whom the poet Lpicharmus flourished
long before Chionides and Magnes; and Tragedy, also, is claimed by
some of the Dorians of the Peloponnese.—In support of these claims,
they argue from the words themselves. They allege that the Doric
word for a village is Képn, the Attic Ajpos; and that Comedians were
so called, not from kwpalew, to revel, but from their strolling about the
kOpat, or villages, before they were tolerated in the city. They say,
further, that to do, or act, they express by the word dpav: the Athe-
nians, by zparrecv. |

And thus much as to the differences of imitation (u/unovs), how
many, and what they are.

Poetry, in general, seems to have derived its origin from two causes, Cap. 1v.
each of them natural. es ee

1. To Jmitate is instinctive in man from his infancy. By this he *f2n"
is distinguished from other animals, that he is, of all, the most imitative, a a
and through this instinct receives his earliest education. All men,
likewise, naturally receive pleasure from imitation. This is evident
from what we experience in viewing the works of imitative art; for in

Dp. Tuc. 21

322 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

. them we contemplate with pleasure, and with the more pleasure the
more exactly they are imitated, such objects as, if real, we could not see
without pain, as the figures of the meanest and most disgusting animals,
dead bodies, and the like. And the reason of this is, that to learn is a
very great pleasure, not confined to philosophers, but common to all
men; with this difference only, that the multitude partake of it in
a more transient and compendious manner. Hence the pleasure they
receive from a picture; in viewing it, they learn, they infer, they dis-
cover, what every object is; that this, for instance, is such a particular
man, &c. For if we suppose the object represented to be something
which the spectator had never seen, in that case his pleasure will not
arise from the imitation, as such’, but from the workmanship, the
colours, or some such cause.

2. Imitation, then, being #hus natural to us; and, secondly, Har-
mony and Rhythm being also natural (for as to metres, they are plainly
comprised in rhythm), those persons, in whom originally these propen-
sities were the strongest, were naturally led to rude and extemporaneous
attempts, which, gradually improved, gave birth to Poetry.

But this Poetry, following the different characters of its authors,
naturally divided itself into two different kinds. They who were of a
grave and lofty spirit chose for their imitation the actions and adven-
tures of elevated characters; while poets of a lighter turn represented
those of the vicious and contemptible. And these composed, originally,
Satires, as the former did Hymns and Encomia.

Of the lighter kind, we have no poem anterior to the time of
Homer, though many such, in all probability, there were; but from his
time, we have: as, his MJargites,»and others of the same species, in
which the Iambic was introduced as the most proper measure; and
hence, indeed, the name of /ambic, because it was the measure in which
they used to. satirize each other (iapBilev).

And thus these old poets were divided into two classes—those who
used the heroic, and those who used the iambic verse.

And as, in the serious kind, Homer alone may be said to deserve
the name of poet, not only on account of his other excellencies, but also
of the dramatic spirit of his imitations; so was he likewise the first
who suggested the idea of Comedy, by substituting ridicule for invective,
and giving that ridicule a dramatic cast; for his Margites bears the
same analogy to Comedy, as his J/iad and Odyssey to Tragedy. But
when Tragedy and Comedy had once made their appearance, succeeding
poets, according to the turn of their genius, attached themselves to the

1 Ritter proposes to read otx! ulunua 7 wlunua.—J. W. D.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 323

one or the other of these new species. The lighter sort, instead of
Iambic, became Comic poets; the graver, Tragic, instead of Heroic:
and that on account of the superior dignity and higher estimation of
these latter forms (oynpara) of Poetry.

Whether Tragedy has now, with respect to its constituent parts,

received the utmost improvement of which it is capable, considered
both in itself, and relatively to the theatre, is a question that belongs
not to this place.
Both Tragedy, however, and Comedy, having originated in a rude
and unpremeditated manner—the first from the leaders in the Dithyr-
ambic hymns, the other from those who led off the Phallic songs, which,
in many cities, remain still in use—each advanced gradually towards
perfection by successive improvements, as it successively manifested
itself (kata puxpov 1vE7On, mpoayovtwv dcov eyiyvero havepov aut7s).

Tragedy, after various changes (moAAds pertaBodds petaBadotoa
7) Tpaywdtia), reposed at length in the completion of its proper form.
4ischylus fivst added a second actor: he also abridged the chorus, and
made the dialogue the principal part of Tragedy. Sophocles increased
the number of actors to three, and added the decoration of painted
scenery. It was also late before Tragedy threw aside the short and
simple fable, and ludicrous Janguage of its satyric origin, and attained
its proper magnitude and dignity. The Jambic measure was then first
adopted : for, originally, the Z'rochaic tetrameter was made use of, on
account of the satyric and saltatorial’ genius of the poem at that time
(dua 76 carvpuy Kai opynotixutépav ctvar THY Tomow): but when the
dialogue was formed, nature itself pointed out the proper metre. For
the iambic is, of all metres, the most colloquial (udéducra ydp Aextexov
€o7t): as appears evidently from this fact, that our common conversation
frequently falls into iambic verse; seldom into hexameter, and only
when we depart from the usual harmony of speech. Episodes were
also multiplied, and every other part of the drama successively improved
and polished. ‘

But of this enough: to enter into a minute detail would perhaps be
a task of some length.

Comedy, as was said before, is an imitation of bad characters: bad, Cap. ¥.

Comedy and
Epic poetry.

not with respect to every sort of vice, but to the ridiculous only, as
_ being a species of turpitude or deformity; since it may be defined to be
—a fault or deformity of such sort as is neither painful nor destructive
(ro yap yedotov éotw apuaptnua ti—xal od dOaprixdy). A ridiculous
face, for example, is something ugly and distorted, but not so as to
cause pain.

21—2

324 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY

The successive improvements of Tragedy, and the respective authors
of them, have not escaped our knowledge; but those of Comedy, from
the little attention that was paid to it in its origin, remain in obscurity.
For it was not till late that Comedy was authorized by the magistrate,
and carried on at the public expense: it was, at first, a private and
voluntary exhibition. From the time, indeed, when it began to
acquire some degree of form, its poets have been recorded; but who
first introduced masks or dialogues’, or augmented the number of actors
—these, and other particulars of the same kind, are unknown.

Epicharmus and Phormis were the first who invented comic fables.
This improvement, therefore, is of Sicilian origin. But, of Athenian
poets, Crates was the first, who abandoned the Jambic type*, and
introduced dialogues and plots of a general character (jpev apeuevos THs
iapBixns ideas KaoAov Trovety AOyous Kat pGous).

Epic poetry agrees so far with Tragic’, as it is an imitation of
serious actions; but in this it differs, that it makes use of a single
metre, and is confined to narration. It also differs in length: for
Tragedy endeavours, as far as possible, to confine its action within the
limits of a single revolution of the sun, or nearly so; but the time of
Epic action is indefinite. This, however, at first was equally the case
with Tragedy itself.

Of their constituent parts, some are common to both, some peculiar
to Tragedy. He, therefore, who is a judge of the beauties and defects
of Tragedy, is, of course, equally a judge with respect to those of Epic
poetry : for all the parts of the Epic poem are to be found 3 in Tragedy ;
not all those of Tragedy in the Epie poem,

B. Tragedy.

Cap. vt. Of the species of poetry which imitates in hexameters, and of
Tragedy. ts Comedy, we shall speak hereafter. Let us now consider Tragedy;
cdl aah of collecting, first, from what has been already said, its true and essential

which Ko wih olen . . abs
ieee impart- definition. Tragedy, then, is an imitation of an action that is impor-

aoa the tant, entire, and of a proper magnitude—by language embellished and
plot. + yendered pleasurable, but by different means, in different parts—in the
way, not of narration, but of action—effecting, through pity and terror,
the correction and refinement of such passions. , ("Eotw otv tpaywdta
pipnows mpdgews orovdaias Kal Tedelas, peyeOos exovons ydvoepevm oyu,
xupis Exdorov Tav ciddv ev Tots popiows, Spwvtwv, Kat ov 5” amayyedias, bv

1 We should read \éyous with Hermann.—J. W. D.
? i.e, personal and particular satire: below, c. x.—J. W. D.

3 After oh in a text we have the interpolation: uéxpt wovou prérpouv peyadou,
or era Nbyou.—J. W

a ae

—e

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 325

ehéov kal dBov repaivovea Tv TAY TowviTwv Tabypatwv KaGapow). By
pleasurable language, I mean a language that has the embellishments
of rhythm, harmony, and melody; and I add, by different means in
different parts, because in some parts metre alone is employed, in others,
melody '.

* * * * % * *

1 There can be little doubt that this celebrated definition of Tragedy is drawn up
with an express and controversial reference to Plato’s opinion of poetry. The very
phrases are an echo of Plato’s language. ‘Thus, the words jdvcuévw NOyy remind us
at once of Plato’s jéucuévn podca (Respubl. x. p. 607 A), and the expression dpdévTwv kal
ov dv dmayyeXlas must allude to Plato’s description of the lyric as opposed to the
dramatic poetry, the latter being dia piujoews, and the former d¢ drayyeNlas adrod Tot
mounrod (Respubl, 111. p. 394 0, above, p. 42). It appears, however, that the mere state-
ment that Tragedy is a purgation (kd@apots) of those passions which Plato charges it
with exciting, is not a sufficient answer to that philosopher, and Spengel has argued,
I think conclusively, that there is probably an omission in the text, as we have it, of
a passage conveying Aristotle’s reasoning in defence of his own views. Spengel’s
opinion shall be given in his own words. After remarking (Munich Transactions,
1837, II. p. 226 sqq.) that, although Aristotle has explained the words jéuvcpéry boyy
and ywpls éxdorouv ray eldGv év Tots poplows, he has left unexplained the main point,
dv édéov kal Péb8ov mepaivovca tiv Tév ToLot’Trwy Tabnudrww Kadbapow, he proceeds:
“and yet this xd@apots taOnudrwv is in Aristotle’s estimation of such significance and
importance, that while he contents himself in an earlier work, the Politics, v. (V1I1.) 7,
with a short notice, he postpones the full explanation to his Poetic, and promises to
give it there. It is obvious that this is the place in which Aristotle was bound to
speak of it, for the introduction, which forms a connected whole by itself, afforded no
opportunity for it; and even if he wished, which is not credible, to reserve a fuller
discussion of it for a future occasion, still it was necessary that the topic should be at
least touched on here and referred back to the rest. That, however, he has spoken of
the subject here, in the most convenient place, and has indicated the reasons for his
opinion, may be conjectured from the numerous references to this important part of
the definition; ¢. XI.: % yap dvayvepiots Kal mepuréreca 7) éXeov EEee 7 PbBov, olwv
mpdtew 7 Tpaywola plunos vrdxerrar. Cc. XIII: éreidy ov det Thy olvOecw elvar THs
KkadNlorns Tpaywolas ph awdfv, dda TeTeyuévyny (as is shown at the conclusion of
ch. 1X.) kal rabrny poBep&y kal éhewGy eivat piunow (rodro yap Wrov Toatrys pymyjocews
éorw) mp@rov pev Sjdov bre K.T.A. C. XIV.: Eel 6€ THy awd EX€ov Kal PoBou Gia pueper}-
sews Sel NOovyy Tapackevdfew Tov woinTHV, pavepdv ws TOTO év Tots Mpdyuaow eurroLy-
réov. For a full understanding, and incidentally for a confutation of the most recent
and able exposition, which perhaps dazzles many by the splendour of the name under
which it appears*, but which is opposed no less to the language than to the expressed
sentiments of Aristotle, we give here in its full context the passage of the Politics,
which is at the same time the best explanation of the words before us:

“© « Since we accept the distinction of the different kind of songs, as it is given by
some philosophers, namely, into those which form the character [xd], those which
excite to action [wpaxtixd], and those which inspire us with rapturous emotion [é@ou-
gtaorixd], and so also of the corresponding harmonies; and since we say that we
ought to use music not for one advantage only, but for several advantages (for it
serves first for mental discipline secondly, for purgation,—and as tc what we mean
by purgation we will now speak generally, and again in our treatise on poetry more
distinctly [ri 5€ Aéyouev Thy KdOapow viv pév amas, rddw 0 & Tots TEpl TonTiKAs
époduev capéorepor] ;—thirdly, for amusement, both as recreation and as a rest from
excitement,) it is manifest that we must use all the harmonies, but not all in the same
manner; for we must use in education those which are best fitted to regulate the
character [rats 7@kwrdras], and for listening when others are performing we must
employ both the practical and the enthusiastic [kal rats mpaxrixats xai rats évGov-

* Githe’s nachgelassene Werke, v1.16—21. Nachlese zu Aristoteles Poetik, praised by an Aristotelian
scholar as a model of exposition.

326 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

Now as Tragedy imitates by acting, the decoration, in the first
place, must necessarily be one of its parts: then the melopeia (or

ciactikais]. It is a fact that the passions by which one person is strongly affected are
naturally inherent in all, the difference being one of degree only. Such are pity and
fear; and enthusiasm too, for some are under the sway of this emotion. And we see
that these, when they employ the songs that excite the soul to religious fervour, are
calmed and settled by sacred strains, as though they had found some remedy and pur-
gation [Somep larpelas rvxévtas kal Kabdpoews]. The same must happen also to those
liable to the emotions of pity and fear [rods é\ehuovas kal rods doByTeKovs], and those
who are generally impressionable [Tols é\ws ra0yrucovs], and others so far as each of
these circumstances occurs; and all have a sort of purgation and a sense of lightening
not unaccompanied by pleasure [kal race ylyvecOal Twa Kdbapow kal Koudiferbar pel?
jdov7s|. In like manner the songs which produce a sense of purgation [7a wédn TA
ka0apticd| cause an innocuous gratification to men. Wherefore we should direct the
attention of the competitors who practise music for the theatres to harmonies and
songs which produce this effect.’

“ After all this I have no hesitation in supposing that there is an omission in our
passage of the Poetic, before the words émel 5¢ xpdrrovres, of some lines in which that
Kd0apots TOv moenudtTwy was discussed ; and, to strengthen the probability of this con-
jecture, I add the following confirmation from internal evidence. Aristotle, in his
Poetic, was the less likely to have evaded a defence of poetry against the attacks of
Plato in his Republic (111. pp. 124—29, and x. pp. 466—491, Bkk.), because Plato
himself wishes it, because he invites poets and prose-writers to hasten to the help of
poetry, and declares his willingness to give it a place in his polity, if it can be proved
that epic and tragic poetry do not produce any effects prejudicial to life and truth
(p. 489). Aristotle is not accustomed to leave unemployed a suitable opportunity of
setting his teacher right, and either qualifying his views by taking a different side or
refuting them altogether. Are we then to imagine that in his Rhetoric he has con-
futed the judgment and opinion of Plato respecting what is pernicious in that art,
with few but sufficient words, without mentioning his name indeed, but with a distinct
and manifest reference to his Gorgias, and has so re-established the credit of rhetoric;
but that in the case of poetry, which he prizes so highly, which he prefers to history,
and places nearer to philosophy, he would not endeavour to secure its acquittal from
the incriminations of his great predecessor? Now we find in Aristotle’s Poetic, besides
c. XXV., which removes by explanation certain difficulties found in the poets, and
meets various objections, only one passage in which we can recognize, and clearly too,
a distinct allusion to Plato, and this is found in our words: 60’ é\éou kal pd8ou mepat-
vouoa Thy Tay TovTey mabnudray Kdbapsw. That indeed is the .greatest reproach
which Plato alleges against tragic poetry, that instead of making men strong and
hard, it weakens and softens them by the pity which it excites; that what we should
in common life regard as unmanly and unbecoming to do in the presence of others—
namely, to lament and utter loud wailings on account of our misfortunes—we permit
to the art of imitation, to that jivcuévy potcn: we take pleasure in it, we become
more and more unnerved by it, and so pleasure and sorrow get the mastery in our
polity instead of law and reason. ‘This is Plato’s view (Respubl. x. p. 485, Bkk.
p- 605, Steph.). Aristotle, on the contrary, maintains that the tragic art, by means
of the fear and pity which it excites in the human soul, purifies it from such passions,
—a thought which requires to be established for its own sake, and which is doubly
worthy of explanation as standing in open opposition and contradiction to Plato.”

Since Spengel wrote these words there has been ,a lively discussion of Aristotle’s
celebrated definition by J. Bernays (Grundziige der verlorn. Abhandl. des Aristoteles
iiber die Wirkung der Tragidie, Abh. Hist. Phil. Gesell. in Breslau, Breslau, 1857),
whose views have been sharply criticized by Adolf Stahr (Aristoteles und die Wirkung
der Tragidie, Berlin, 1859). Bernays insists on the distinction between ra@juara, as
denoting inherent affections, and md, as denoting incidental conditions (Bernays,
p. 194), and maintains that as Aristotle used the former word, the xd@apo1s, which he
attributes to Tragedy, refers only to those spectators who are chronically and habitu-
ally affected with pity and fear. And the xd@apois operates as a kind of disburdenment
of the overruling sentiment, an dépaots, or drawing away of the morbid influences
(Bernays, p. 200), But although Aristotle does distinguish between wadjuara and

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 327

music), and the diction; for these last include the means of tragic imita-
tion. By diction I mean the metrical composition. The meaning of
melopeia is obvious to every one.

Again: Tragedy being an imitation of an action, and the persons
employed in that action being necessarily characterized by their man-
ners and their sentiments, since it is from these that actions themselves
derive their character, it follows, that there must also be manners and
sentiments, as the two causes of actions, and, consequently, of the happi-
ness or unhappiness of all men. The imitation of the action is the
plot: for by plot (utOov) I now mean the contexture of incidents. By
manners (70), I mean, whatever marks the characters of the persons.
By sentiments (diavora), whatever they say, whether proving any thing,
or delivering a general opinion, &e.

Hence, all Tragedy must necessarily contain siz parts, which,
together, constitute its peculiar character or quality: plot, manners,
diction, sentiments, decoration, and music (ios, cal 70n, Kat rekts, Kat
dvavova, Kat ois, Kal preAoroita). OF these parts, two relate to the
means, one to the manner, and three to the object of imitation. And
these are all. [These specific parts have been employed by most poets,
and are to be found in almost every Tragedy. |

But of all these parts the most important is the combination of
incidents, or the plot : because Tragedy is an imitation, not of men, but
of actions [of life and of happiness: even unhappiness consists in action,
and the supreme good itself, the very end of life, is action of a certain
kind,—not a quality]. Now the manners of men constitute only their
quality or characters; but it is by their actions that they are happy, or
the contrary. Tragedy, therefore, does not imitate action, for the sake
of imitating manners; but in the imitation of action, that of manners

rd6n, the distinction is not uniformly maintained, and wdéos and udos are certainly
used by 4uschylus (Ayam. 170) in the same sense as rdOnua and udbyua by Herodotus
(I. 207). And with regard to xdé@apo.s, which must be taken in its medical sense, it
seems quite clear that it implies a curative effect. Just as Aristotle speaks of pleasure
as a cure (larpela) of pain (Zth. Nic. vil. 1154 a. 27), and of recreation as a cure of
labour (Polit. vii. [5], p. 1339 b. 17: THs yap bid Tov rover Uys larpeia Tis éoTw),
so the amusement or intellectual diversion of a play is a cure of real fear or pity ; and
as all cures are naturally produced by the opposite of the ills which they remedy
(Aristot. Eth. Nic. 11. p. 1104 b. 17: ai larpeiar da Tov evavtlaw repixace ylvecba),
we must understand that the cdé@apots of Tragedy is produced by the contrast between
the real emotion and the contemplation in thought of the sorrows of others; on the
principle of the suave mari magno, &c. (Lucret. 1. init.) This may seem, as Milton
suggests (Preface to Samson Agonistes), to be a sort of homeeopathic remedy (Bernays,
p- 192); but the contrast is maintained in the opposition between the real and the
imaginary; it is a case in which, as Aristotle elsewhere expresses it (Pol. v. [V1I.]
p- 1341 a. 1. 22), Oewpla xdBapow paddov Stvarac 7} wdOnow, and the spectator is
elevated or consoled by the thought that the representation which he sees on the stage
of the traditionary or possible misfortunes of his fellow-creatures are different in kind
or degree from the worst of his own sad experiences.—J, W. D.

328 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

is of course involved. So that the action and the plot are the end of
Tragedy; and in every thing the end is of principal importance.

Again—Tragedy cannot subsist without action; without manners it
may: the Tragedies of most modern poets have this defect; a defect
common, indeed, among poets in general. As among painters, also,
this is the case with Zeuxis, compared with Polygnotus: the latter
excels in the expression of the manners; there is no such expression in
the pictures of Zeuxis.

Further; suppose any one to string together a number of speeches,
in which the manners are strongly marked, the language and the
sentiments well turned; this will not be sufficient to produce the proper
effect of Tragedy: that end will much rather be answered by a piece,
defective in each of those particulars, but furnished with a proper plot
and combination of incidents.

Add to this, that those parts of Tragedy, by means of which it
becomes most interesting and affecting, are parts of the plot; I mean
revolutions and discoveries.

As a further proof, beginners in tragic writing are sooner able to
arrive at excellence in the language, and the manners, than in the
construction of a plot; as appears from almost all our earlier poets.

The plot, then, is the principal part, the soul, as it were, of Tragedy ;
and the manners are next in rank’. Just as in painting, the most
brilliant colours spread at random, and without design, will give far less
pleasure than the simplest outline of a figwre. And the imitation is of
an action, and on account of that, principally, of the agents.

In the third place stand the sentiments. To this part it belongs to
say such things as are true and proper; which, in the dialogue, depends
on the political and rhetorical arts; for the ancients made their charac-
ters speak in the style of political and popular eloquence; but now the
rhetorical manner prevails.

The manners are whatever manifests the disposition of the speaker.
There are speeches, therefore, which are without manners, or character ;
as not containing any thing by which the propensities or aversions of
the person who delivers them can be known. The sentiments compre-
hend whatever is said; whether proving any thing, affirmatively, or
negatively, or expressing some general reflection, &c.

Fourth, in order, is the diction—the expression of the sentiments
by words; the power and effect of which is the same, whether in verse
or prose.

? It may be doubted whether the rest of this chapter ought not to be considered as
an interpolation.—J. W. D.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 329

Of the remaining two parts, the music stands next; of all the
pleasurable accompaniments and embellishments of Tragedy, the most
delightful.

The decoration has also a great effect, but, of all the parts, is most
foreign to the art. For the power of Tragedy is felt without repre-
sentation, and actors; and the beauty of the decorations depends more
on the art of the mechanic, than on that of the poet.

These things being thus adjusted, let us go on to examine in what Cap. vir.
manner the Plot should be constructed, since this is the first, and most Lee

ae action ¢
° F fragedy mu
important part of Tragedy. be enmmpicke
Ser iey ; What is a
Now we have defined Tragedy to be an imitation of an action that dramatic

e 5 5 . whole? Th
is complete, and entire; and that has also a certain magnitude; for proper mea

2 A e sure of T'ra-
a thing may be entire and a whole, and yet not be of any mag- gedy.

nitude.

1. By entire, I mean that which has a beginning, a middle, and an
end. A beginning is that which does not, necessarily, suppose any
thing before it, but which requires something to follow it. An end, on
the contrary, is that which supposes something to precede it, either
necessarily or probably; but which nothing is required to follow. A
middle is that which both supposes something to precede, and requires
something to follow. The poet, therefore, who would construct his
fable properly, is not at liberty to begin, or end, where he pleases, but
must conform to these definitions.

2. Again: whatever is beautiful, whether it be an animal, or any
other thing composed of different parts, must not only have those parts
arranged in a certain manner, but must also be of a certain magnitude ;
for beauty consists in magnitude and order. Hence it is that no very
minute animal can be beautiful; the eye comprehends the whole too
instantaneously to distinguish and compare the parts :—neither, on the
contrary, can one of a prodigious size be beautiful; because, as all its
parts cannot be seen at once, the whole, the unity of object, is lost to
the spectator; as it would be, for example, if he were surveying an
animal of very many-miles in length. As, therefore, in animals and
other objects, a certain magnitude is requisite, but that magnitude
must be such as to present a whole easily comprehended by the eye; so, ’
in the fable, a certain length is requisite, but that length must be such
as to present a whole easily comprehended by the memory.

With respect to the measure of this length—if referred to actual
‘representation in the dramatic contests, it is a matter foreign to the
art itself: for if a hundred Tragedies had to be exhibited in concurrcnee,

Cap. Vull.
Tragic unity.

Cap. rx.
Relation of
Tragedy to
history.

330 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

the length of each performance must be regulated by the hour-glass’.
But, if we determine this measure by the nature of ‘the thing itself, the
more extensive the fable, consistently with the clear and easy compre-
hension of the whole, the more beautiful will it be, with respect to
magnitude.—In general, we may say, that an action is sufficiently
extended, when it is long enough to admit of a change of fortune from
happy to unhappy, or the reverse, brought about by a succession, neces-
sary or probable, of well-connected incidents.

A plot is not one, as some conceive, merely because the hero of it is
one. For numberless events happen to one man, many of which are
such as cannot be connected into one event; and so likewise, there are
many actions of one man which cannot be connected into any one
action. Hence appears the mistake of all those poets who have com-
posed Herculeids, Theseids, and other poems of that kind. They con-
clude, that because Hercules was one, so also must be the fable of which
he is the subject. But Homer, among his many other excellencies,
seems also to have been perfectly aware of this mistake, either from art
or genius; for when he composed his Odyssey, he did not introduce all
the events of his hero’s life, such, for instance, as the wound he received
upon Parnassus; his feigned madness when the Grecian army was
assembling, &c.; events not connected, either by necessary or probable
consequence, with each other; but he comprehended those only which
have relation to one action, for such we call that of the Odyssey. And
in the same manner he composed his J/iad.

As, therefore, in other mimetic arts, one imitation is an imitation of
one thing, so here the fable, being an imitation of an action, should be
an imitation of an action that is one and entire; the parts of it being
so connected, that if any one of them be either transposed or taken
away, the whole will be destroyed or changed; for whatever may be
either retained or omitted, without making any sensible difference, is not
properly a part.

It appears further, from what has been said, that it is not the poet’s
province to relate such things as have actually happened, but such as
nught have happened; such as are possible according either to probable
or necessary consequence. or it is not by writing in verse or prose
that the historian and the poet are distinguished: the work of Herodotus
might be versified, but it would still be a species of history, no less

1 We have here in the original the unmeaning addition, Womep woré cal &doTE
paciv.— J. W. D.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 331

with metre, than without. They are distinguished by this, that the one
relates what has been, the other what might be, On this account, poetry
is a more philosophical and a more excellent thing than history; for
poetry is chiefly conversant about general truth, history about particular.
In what manner, for example, any person of a certain character would
speak or act, probably or necessarily—this is general: and this is the
object of poetry, even while it makes use of particular names. But,
what Alcibiades did, or what happened to him—this is particular
truth.

With respect to Comedy, this is now become obvious; for here, the
poet, when he has formed his plot of probable incidents, gives to his
characters whatever names he pleases; and is not, like the iambic poets,
particular and personal.

Tragedy, indeed, retains the use of real names; and the reason is,
that, what we are disposed to believe, we must think possible: now,
what has never actually happened, we are not apt to regard as possible;
but what Aas been is unquestionably so, or it could not have been at
all. There, are, however, some Tragedies, in which one or two of the
names are historical, and the rest feigned : there are even some in which
none of the names are historical; such is Agatho’s Tragedy called Zhe
Flower, for in that all is invention, both incidents and names; and yet
it pleases. It is by no means, therefore, essential that a poet should con-
fine himself to the known and established subjects of Tragedy. Such a
restraint would, indeed, be ridiculous; since even those subjects that are
known, are known, comparatively, but to few, and yet are interesting to all.

From all this it is manifest, that a poet should be a poet, or “ maker,”
of plots, rather than of verses; since’ it is imitation that constitutes the
poet, and of this imitation actions are the object: nor is he the less
a poet, though the incidents of his fable should chance to be such as
have actually happened; for nothing hinders but that some true events
may possess the probability, the invention of which entitles him to the
name of poet.

Of simple plots or actions, the episodic are the worst. I call that an
episodic plot (érewoodiwdy pdOov), the episodes of which follow each other
without any probable or necessary connexion; a fault into which bad
poets are betrayed by their want of skill, and good poets by the players;
for, in order to accommodate their pieces to the purposes of rival per-
formers in the dramatic contests, they spin out the action beyond their
powers, and are thus frequently forced to break the connexion and con-
tinuity of its parts.

1 gow ‘just in proportion as.”—J.W. D.

332 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

But since Tragedy is an imitation, not only of a complete action, but
also of an action exciting pity and terror, and since these effects are
reciprocal, that which excites our surprise ought to be connected with
some appearance of causation’; for by this means it will have more of
the wonderful than if it appeared to be the effect of chance; since we
find that, among events merely casual, those are the most wonderful and
striking which seem to imply design; as when, for instance, the statue
of Mitys at Argos killed the very man who had murdered Mitys, by
falling down upon him as he was surveying it; events of this kind not
having the appearance of accident. It follows, then, that such plots as
are formed on these principles must be the best.

Cap. x. Plots are of two sorts, simple and complicated (Riot 8& tév piOwv ot
Beene: pev aot, ot 8& rerdeypévor): for so also are the actions themselves of
= which they are imitations. An action (having the continuity and unity
prescribed) I call simple, when its catastrophe is produced without either
revolution or discovery ; complicated, when with one or both. And these
should arise from the structure of the plot itself, so as to be the natural
consequences, necessary or probable, of what has preceded in the action ;
for there is a wide difference between incidents that follow from (da

i.e. by means of ), and incidents that follow only after (vera), each other.

Cap. XI. A. revolution (repurérea) is a change into the reverse of what is
Cn the ° °
xepreea eXpected from the circumstances of the action; and that produced, as we

ae have said, by probable or necessary consequence.

Thus in the Qdipus Tyrannus, the messenger, meaning to make
(Edipus happy, and to relieve him from the dread he was under with
respect to his mother, by making known to him his real birth, produces
an effect directly contrary to his intention. Thus also, in the Tragedy
of Lynceus, the hero is led to suffer death, Danaus follows to inflict i;
but the event resulting from the course of the incidents is, that Danaus
is killed, and Lynceus saved.

A. discovery (dvayvspiots), a8 indeed the word implies, is a change
from unknown to known, happening between those characters whose
happiness or unhappiness forms the catastrophe of the drama, and termi-
nating in friendship or enmity.

The best sort of discovery is that which is accompanied by a revolu-
tion, as in the Wdipus.

There are also other discoveries; for inanimate things of any kind

1 The apodosis is here lost, but it must have been to the effect given above. The
words, kal uddora Kal waddov bray yévnrae rapa Thy Séfavy, are an interpolation, See
Ritter.—J. W. D.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 333

may be recognized in the same manner; and we may discover whether
such a particular thing was, or was not, done by such a person: but the
discovery most appropriate to the plot and the action is that above de-
fined, because such discoveries and revolutions must excite either pity or
terror; and Tragedy we have defined to be an imitation of pitiable and
terrible actions; and because, also, by them the event, happy or wn-
happy, is produced.

Now discoveries being relative things, are sometimes of one of the
persons only, the other being already known; and sometimes they are
reciprocal: thus, Iphigenia is discovered to Orestes by the letter which
she charges him to deliver, and Orestes is obliged, by other means, to
make himself known to her. [These then are two parts of the plot,
revolution and discovery. There is yet a third, which we denominate
disasters (7a00s). The two former have been explained. Disasters com-
prehend all painful or destructive actions; the exhibition of death, bodily
anguish, wounds, and every thing of that kind. |

[The parts of Tragedy which are necessary to constitute its quality
have been already enumerated. Its parts of quantity—the distinct parts
into which it is divided—are these: prologue, episode, exode, and chorus ; {
which last is also divided into the parode and the stasimon. These are
common to all Tragedies. The songs from the stage, and the commoi, or
dirges, are found in some only (ra ao oxnvijs Kat Kopp206).

The prologue is all that part of a Tragedy which precedes the parode
of the chorus.

The episode, all that part which is included between entire choral
odes. The exode, that part which has no choral ode after tt.

Of the choral part, the parode is the first speech of the whole chorus:
the stasimon includes all those choral odes that are without anapests
and trochees (avev avaraiorov kat Tpoxaiov).

The commos is a general lamentation of the chorus and the actors
together (Kopupos 8€, Opivos Kowos xopod Kal ard oxyvyjs). Such are the
separate parts into which Tragedy is divided. Its parts of quality were
before explained. |

Cap. XIt.

Tragedy has
four parts of
quantity.
Division of
the choral
songs.

The order of the subject leads us to consider, in the next place, what Cap. xu.

the poet should aim at, and what avoid, in the construction of his plot; babe ae
and by what means the purpose of Tragedy may be best effected. pales

Now, since it is requisite to the perfection of Tragedy that its plot

the construc-
Mon ofa Tra-

should be of the complicated, not of the simple kind, and that it should **

imitate such actions as excite terror and pity, (this being the peculiar
property of the tragic imitation,) it follows evidently, in the first place,

334 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

that the change from prosperity to adversity should not be represented
as happening to a virtuous character; for this raises disgust, rather than
terror or compassion. Neither should the contrary change from adver-
sity to prosperity be exhibited in a vicious character: this, of all plans,
is the most opposite to the genius of Tragedy, having no one property
that it ought to have; for it is neither gratifying, in a moral view, nor
affecting nor terrible. Nor, again, should the fall of a very bad man from
prosperous to adverse fortune be represented ; because, though such a sub-
ject may be pleasing from its moral tendency, it will produce neither pity
nor terror [for our pity is excited by misfortunes wndeservedly suffered,
and our terror by some resemblance between the sufferer and ourselves].
Neither of these effects will, therefore, be produced by such an event.

There remains, then, for our choice, the character between these
extremes; that of a person neither eminently virtuous or just, nor yet
involved in misfortune by reason of deliberate vice or villany, but from
some error of human frailty; and this person should also be some one of
high fame and flourishing prosperity ; for example, Qidipus, Thyestes, or
other illustrious men of such families.

Hence it appears, that, to be well constructed, a plot, contrary to the
opinion of some, should be single, rather than double; that the change of
fortune should not be from adverse to prosperous, but the reverse; and
that it should be the consequence not of vice, but of some great frailty,
in a character such as has been described, or better rather than worse.

These principles are confirmed by experience ; for poets formerly
admitted almost any story into the number of tragic subjects; but now,
the subjects of the best Tragedies are confined to a few families—to
Alemeon, Aidipus, Orestes, Meleager, Thyestes, Telephus, and others, the
sufferers, or the authors, of some terrible calamity.

The most perfect Tragedy, then, according to the principles of the
art, is of this construction. Whence appears the mistake of those critics
who censure Euripides for this practice in his Tragedies, many of which
terminate unhappily; for this, as we have shown, is right; and, as the
strongest proof of it, we find that, upon the stage, and in the dramatic
contests, such Tragedies, if they succeed, have always the most tragic
effect: and Euripides, though in other respects faulty in the conduct of
his subjects, seems clearly to be the most tragic of all poets.

I place in the second rank that kind of fable to which some assign
the first; that which is of a double construction, like the Odyssey, and
also ends in two opposite events, to the good, and to the bad characters.
That this passes for the best, is owing to the weakness of the spectators,
to whose wishes the poets accommodate their productions. This kind of
pleasure, however, is not the proper pleasure of Tragedy, but belongs

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 335

rather to Comedy; for there, even if the bitterest enemies, like Orestes
and dfgisthus, ave introduced, they quit the scene at last in perfect
friendship, and no blood is shed on either side.

Terror and pity may be raised by the decoration, the mere spectacle ;
but they may also arise from the circumstances of the action itself;
which is far preferable, and shows a superior poet. For the fable should
be so constructed, that, without the assistance of the sight, its incidents
may excite horror and commiseration in those who hear them only; an
effect which every one, who hears the story of the @dipus, must expe-
rience. But, to produce this effect by means of the decoration, discovers
want of art in the poet, who must also be supplied by the public with an
expensive apparatus (xopyyia).

As to those poets who make use of the decoration in order to produce,
not the terrible, but the marvellous only, their purpose has nothing in com-
mon with that of Tragedy; for we are not to seek for every sort of plea-
sure from Tragedy, but for that only which is proper to the species.

Since, therefore, it is the business of the tragic poet to give that
pleasure which arises from pity and terror, through imitation, it is
evident that he ought to produce that effect by the cireumstances of the
action itself.

Let us, then, see of what ind those incidents are which appear most
terrible or piteous.

Now such actions must, of necessity, happen between persons who
are either friends or enemies, or indifferent to each other. If an
enemy kills, or purposes to kill, an enemy, in neither case is any com-
miseration raised in us, beyond what necessarily arises from the nature
of the action itself.

The case is the same, when the persons are neither friends nor
enemies. But when such disasters happen between friends—when, for
instance, the brother kills, or is going to kill, his brother, the son his
father, the mother her son, or the reverse—these, and others of a similar
kind, are the proper incidents for the poet’s choice. The received tragic
subjects, therefore, he is not at liberty essentially to alter; Clytceemnestra
must die by the hand of Orestes, and Lriphyle by that of Alemeon: but
it is his province to invent other subjects, and to make a skilful use of
those which he finds already established. What I mean by a skilful use,
I proceed to explain.

The atrocious action may be perpetrated knowingly and inten-
tionally, as was usual with the earlier poets; and as Euripides, also, has
represented Medea destroying her children.

It may, likewise, be perpetrated by those who are ignorant, at the
time, of the connexion between them and the injured person, which

Cap. XIv.

Of the proper
modes of ex-
citing fear
and pity.

Cap. XVI.
On the eva-
yvuiprocs in
particular,

336 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

they afterwards discover; like @dipus, in Sophocles. There, indeed,
the action itself does not make a part of the drama: the Alemeon of
Astydamas, and Telegonus in the Ulysses Wounded, furnish instances
within the Tragedy. There is yet a third way, where a person upon the
point of perpetrating, through ignorance, some dreadful deed, is pre-
vented by a sudden discovery.

Besides these, there is no other proper way. For the action must
of necessity be either done or not done, and that either with knowledge,
or without: but of all these ways, that of being ready to execute, know-
ingly, and yet not executing, is the worst; for this is, at the same time,
shocking, and yet not tragic, because it exhibits no disastrous event.
[It is, therefore, never, or very rarely, made use of. The attempt of
Hemon to kill Creon, in the Antigone, is an example’. ]

Next to this, is the actual execution of the purpose.

To execute, through ignorance, and afterwards to discover, is
better: for thus the shocking atrociousness is avoided, and, at the same
time, the discovery is striking.

But the best of all these ways is the last. Thus, in the Tragedy of
Cresphontes, Merope, in the very act of putting her son to death, dis-
covers him, and is prevented.. In the Jphigenia, the sister, in the same
manner, discovers her brother; and in the Helle, the son discovers his
mother, at the instant when he was going to betray her.

On this account it is, that the subjects of Tragedy, as before re-
marked, are confined to a small number of families. For it was not to
art, but to fortune, that poets applied themselves to find incidents of
this nature. Hence the necessity of having recourse to those families
in which such calamities have happened. Of the plot, or story, and its

requisites, enough has now been said.

3
* * * * * % * * *

What is meant by a Discovery has already been explained. Its
kinds are the following.

First, the most inartificial of all, and to which, from poverty of
invention, the generality of poets have recourse—The discovery by visi-
ble signs (7 dia onpe(wv). Of these signs, some are natwral ; as the lance
with which the family of the earth-born Thebans were marked: others
are adventitious (érixrnta): and of these, some are corporal, as scars;
some external, as necklaces, bracelets, &e., or the little boat by which

1 As this view of the passage in the Antigone, 1200, is clearly erroneous (Introduc-
tion to the Antigone, p. xl.) it is well to have the reasons adduced by Ritter for
believing that Aristotle is interpolated here.—J. W. D.

2 See p. 340, below. ‘

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. Shy

the discovery is made in the Tragedy of 7yro. Even these, however,
may be employed with more or less skill. The discovery of Ulysses, for
example, to his nurse, by means of his scar, is very different from his
discovery, by the same means, to the herdsmen. For all those discove-
ries, in which the sign is produced by way of proof, are inartificial.
Those which, like that in the Washing of Ulysses, happen by a revolu-
tion (é« wepurereias), are better.

Secondly,—Discoveries invented, at pleasure, by the poet, and on
that account, still inartificial. For example; in the Jphigenia, Orestes,
after having discovered his sister, discovers himself to her. She, indeed,
is discovered by means of the letter; but Orestes himself speaks such
things as the poet chooses, not such as arise from the fictitious circwm-
stances. This kind of discovery, therefore, borders upon the fault of
that first mentioned: for some of the things from which those proofs
are drawn are even such as might have been actually produced as
visible signs,

Another instance, is the discovery by the sound of the shuttle in the
Tereus of Sophocles.

Thirdly,—The discovery occasioned by memory (7 dud pvnpns): as,
when some recollection is excited by the view of a particular object.
Thus, in the Cyprians of Dicwogenes, a discovery is produced by tears
shed at the sight of a picture: and thus, in the Zale of Alcinous,
Ulysses, listening to the bard, recollects, weeps, and is discovered.

Fourthly,—The discovery occasioned by reasoning or inference (7 ék
ov\Aoyiop.00) : such as that in the Choéphore: “The person, who is
arrived, resembles me—no one resembles me but Orestes—it must be
he!” And that of Polyeidus the sophist, in his Iphigenia; for the con-
clusion of Orestes was natural— It had been his sis¢er’s lot to be sacri-
ficed, and it was now his own/” That, also, in the 7'ydeus of Theodectes
—‘ He came to find his son, and he himself must perish!” And thus
the daughters of Phineus, in the Tragedy denominated from them, view-
- ing the place to which they were led, infer their fate—“there they were
to die, for there they were exposed!” There is also a compound sort of
discovery, arising from false inference in the audience, as in Ulysses the
False Messenger: he asserts that he shall know the bow, which he had
not seen; the audience falsely infer, that a discovery by that means will
follow.

But, of all discoveries, the best is that which arises from the action
uself, and in which a striking effect is produced by probable incidents.
Such is that in the @dipus of Sophocles, and that in the /phigenia; for
nothing is more natural than her desire of conveying the letter. Such
discoveries are the best, because they alone are effected without the help

D. Ts G, 22

Cap. XVIL

Directions
for the tragic
poet.

338 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

of invented proofs, or necklaces, &e. Next to these are the discove-
ries by inference.

The poet, both when he plans, and when he writes, his Tragedy,
should put himself, as much as possible, in the place of a spectator ; for,
by this means seeing everything distinctly, as if present at the action,
he will discern what is proper, and no inconsistencies will escape him.
The fault objected to Carcinus is a proof of this. Amphiaraus had left
the temple: this the spectator, from not seeing the action pass before
his eyes, overlooked ; but in the representation the audience were dis-
gusted, and the piece condemned.

In composing, the poet should even, as much as possible, be an actor:
for, by natural sympathy, they are most persuasive and affecting who are
under the influence of actual passion. We share the agitation of those
who appear to be truly agitated—the anger of those who appear to be
truly angry.

Hence it is that poetry demands either great natural quickness
of parts, or an enthusiasm allied to madness. By the first of these,
we mould ourselves with facility to the imitation of every form ; by the
other, transported out of ourselves, we become what we imagine.

When the poet invents a subject, he should first draw a general
sketch of it, and afterwards give it the detail of its episodes, and
extend it. The general argument, for instance, of the [phigenia should
be considered in this way :—“ A virgin, on the point of being sacrificed,
is imperceptibly conveyed away from the altar, and transported to
another country, where it was the custom to sacrifice all strangers to
Diana. Of these rites she is appointed priestess. It happens, some
time after, that her brother arrives there.” [But why ?’—because an
oracle had commanded him, for some reason exterior to the general
plan. For what purpose? This also is exterior to the plan.] “He
arrives, is seized, and, at the instant that he is going to be sacrificed, the
discovery is made.” And this may be either in the way of Euripides ov
like that of Polyeidus, by the natural reflection of Orestes, that “it
was his fate also, as it had been his sister’s, to be sacrificed :” by which
exclamation he is saved.

After this, the poet, when he has given names to his characters,
should proceed to the episodes of his action; and he must take care
that these belong properly to the subject ; like that of the madness of
Orestes, which occasions his being taken, and his escape by means of the
ablution (Iph. 7. 260—339, 1158 sqq.). In dramatic poetry the
episodes are short, but in the epic they are the means of drawing
out the poem to its proper length. The general story of the Odyssey;

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 339
for example, lies in a small compass: “A certain man is supposed
to be absent from his own country for many years—he is persecuted by
Neptune, deprived of all his companions, and left alone. At home his
affairs are in disorder—the suitors of his wife dissipating his wealth,
and plotting the destruction of his son. Tossed by many tempests, he
at length arrives, and, making himself known to some of his family,
attacks his enemies, destroys them, and remains himself in safety.”
This is the essential; the rest is episode.

[Every Tragedy consists of two parts—the complication (d¢ors), and
the development (Micrs). The complication is often formed by incidents
supposed prior to the action, and by a part, also, of those that are
within the action; the rest form the development. I call complication,
all that is between the beginning of the piece and the last part, where
the change of fortune commences: development, all between the begin-
ning of that change and the conclusion. Thus, in the Lynceus of Theo-
dectes, the events antecedent to the action, and the seizure of the child,
constitute the complication: the development is from the accusation of
murder to the end. |

[There are four kinds of Tragedy, deducible from so many parts,
which have been mentioned. One kind is the complicated (wetheypevn),
where all depends on revolution and discovery ; another is the disastrous
(xaynrixq), such as those on the subject of Ajaz or Ixion: another, the
moral (j0ixy), as the Phthiotides and the Peleus: and, fourthly, the
simple (adj), such as the Phorcides, the Prometheus, and all those Tra-
gedies, the scene of which is laid in the infernal regions. |

{It should be the poet’s aim to make himself master of all these
manners ; of as many of them, at least, as possible, and those the
best; especially, considering the captious criticism to which, in these
days, he is exposed. For the public, having now seen different poets
excel in each of these different kinds, expect every single poet to unite
in himself, and to surpass, the peculiar excellences of them a//. |

[One Tragedy may justly be considered as the same with another or
different, not according as the subjects, but rather according as the com-
plication and development are the same or different. Many poets, when
they have complicated well, develope badly. They should endeavour to
deserve equal applause in both. |

We must also be attentive to what has been often mentioned, and
not construct a Z'’ragedy upon an epic plan. By an epic plan, I mean a
story composed of many stories; as if any one, for instance, should
take the entire fable of the Iliad for the subject of a Tragedy. In the

epic poem the length of the whole admits of a proper magnitude in the
22—2

Cap. XVII.
The compli-
cation and
develop-
ment (Sears
and Avots).

Cap. xv.2

Of the best
modes of ex-
pressing the
manners of
the actors.

340 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

parts, but in the drama the effect of such a plan is far different from
what is expected. As a proof of this, those poets who have formed the
whole of the destruction of Troy into a Tragedy, instead of confining
themselves [as Zuripides, but not Aschylus, has done, in the story of
Niobe] to a part, have either been condemned in the representation, or
have contended without success. Even Agathon has failed on this
account, and on this only ; for in revolutions, and in actions, also, of
the simple kind, these poets succeed wonderfully in what they aim at;
and that is, the union of tragic effect with moral tendency: as when,
for example, a character of great wisdom, but without integrity, is
deceived, like Sisyphus; or a brave, but unjust man, conquered. Such
events, as Agathon says, are probable, “as it is probable, in general, that
many things should happen contrary to probability.”

The chorus should be considered as one of the persons in the drama ;
should be a part of the whole, and a sharer in the action; not as in
Euripides, but as in Sophocles. As for other poets, their choral songs have
no more connexion with their subject than with that of any other
Tragedy; and hence they are now become detached pieces, inserted at
pleasure ; a practice introduced by Agathon'. Yet where is the difference
between this arbitrary insertion of an ode, and the transposition of a
speech, or even of a whole episode, from one Tragedy to another?

With respect to the IMJanners, four things are to be attended to by
the poet.

1 The Greek is 6d éuSddyua ddovew, mpdrou dpzavros "Ayd0wvos Tov ToLovTov, and
Ritter, like most of the commentators, understands éu8dé\qua as cantica ab argumento
tragaedie aliena et pro arbitrio poete inserta, So that Agathon committed the fault
deprecated by Horace (A. P. 193):

Actoris partes chorus officiumque virile
Defendat, neu quid medios intercinat actus
Quod non proposito conducat et hereat apte.

Cicero uses éu8d\cov in the sense of a mere episode.

2 T have transposed this chapter to its proper place after the eighteenth chapter, in
compliance with the suggestion of Spengel, who writes as follows (Mwnich Transactions, _
u.s. p. 246): ‘‘The chapter about the 747 is erroneously inserted here, and is the cause
of all the confusion. If it is removed from its present place, the dvayvdpiors imme-
diately follows ; and it is clear that it is here mentioned and that the remark is made:
elpnrat mpbrepov,—for between the first mention (cc. X. XI.) and the present full dis-
cussion many other subjects have been introduced. Now it must be remembered that
we do not find in the MSS. such divisions and separations of the clauses as we give
in our editions:

Tlept ev oty THs TOv mpayudrwv cvardcews Kal
molous Twas elvac det Tods uOous elpnrat ixavds,

Tlept 5¢ ra On rérrapd éorw dy det
oroxdfvecbat.

So that the former terminates the chapter, and the latter commences a new one, But
such clauses are regarded by the old writers, and in a grammatical sense rightly, as an
indivisible whole. I am then convinced that the leaf consisting of forty lines, which con-

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 341

First, and principally, they should be good (xpyara). Now manners,
or character, belong, as we have said before, to any speech or action
that manifests a certain disposition; and they are bad, or good, as the
disposition manifested is bad (favAy), or good (xpyo77). This goodness
of manners may be found in persons of every description: the manners
of a woman, or of a slave, may be good; though, in general, women are,
perhaps, rather bad than good, and slaves altogether bad.

The second requisite is propriety (ta appottovra). There is a manly
character of bravery and fierceness, which cannot, with propriety, be
given to a woman.

The third requisite is resemblance (70 opotov): for this is a different
thing from their being good and proper, as above described.

The fourth is uniformity (70 opadov): for even though the model of
the poet's imitation be some person of un-uniform manners, still that
person must be represented as uniformly un-uniform (opadds avopadov
det civat).

We have an example of manners unnecessarily bad in the character
of Menelaus in the Tragedy of Orestes; of improper and unbecoming
manners, in the lamentation of Ulysses in Scylla, and in the speech of
Melanippe: of wn-uniform manners, in the Iphigenia at Aulis; for there
the Iphigenia, who supplicates for life, has no resemblance to the Jpht-
genia of the conclusion.

In the manners, as in the fable, the poet should always aim either
at what is necessary or what is probable; so that swch a character shall
appear to speak or act necessarily, or probably, in swch a manner, and
this event to be the necessary or probable consequence of that.—Hence
it is evident that the development also of a plot should arise out of the
plot itself, and not depend upon machinery, as in the Medea, or in the
incidents relative to the sailing away from Troy, in the liad. The
proper ‘application of machinery is to such circumstances as are extra-
neous to the drama; such as either happened before the time of the
action, and could not, by human means, be known; or are to happen
after, and require to be foretold: for to the gods we attribute the
knowledge of all things. But nothing improbable should be admitted
in the incidents of the fable; or, if it cannot be avoided, it should, at

tains the 767, has by some accident, not purposely, been removed from its proper
place before c. X1X., and has been placed in the middle of the doctrine of the “i#os, to
the great confusion of the reader. This is not the only phenomenon of this kind.
The most recent editor of heon has rightly indicated a similar transposition. The
same has long been recognized in Varro’s books de lingua Latina; many MSS. of
Cicero de Oratore are in still worse plight; and, although we do not find this in
Aristotle’s Rhetoric, we have there an example of a particular kind: in m1. 16, there
was manifestly a gap, and all the MSS. have repeated there a passage of twenty lines
from 1. 9.”"—J. W. D.

342 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

least, be confined to such as are without the Tragedy itself; as in the
@dipus of Sophocles.

Since Tragedy is an imitation of what is best, we should follow the
example of skilful portrait-painters; who, while they express the pecu-
liar lineaments, and produce a likeness, at the same time improve upon
the original. And thus, too, the poet, when he imitates the manners of
passionate or indolent men, or any others of a similar kind, should repre-
sent them under a favourable aspect; as Achilles is drawn by Agathon,
and by Homer. These things the poet should keep in view: and, be-
sides these, whatever relates to those senses which have a necessary
connexion with poetry: for here, also, he may often err. But of this
enough has been said in the treatises already published.

Cap. XIX, Of the other subjects enough has now been said. We are next to

a a consider the diction and the sentiments (dvavotas).

oe For what concerns the sentiments, we refer to the principles laid
down in the books on &hetoric; for to that subject they more properly
belong. The sentiments include whatever is the object of speech; as, for
instance, to prove, to refute, to move the passions—pity, terror, anger,
and the like; to amplify, or to diminish. But it is evident, that, with
respect to the things themselves also, when the poet would make them
appear pitiable, or terrible, or great, or probable, he must draw from the
same sources; with this difference only, that in the drama these things
must appear to be such, without being shown to be such; whereas in
oratory, they must be made to appear so by the speaker, and in con-
sequence of what he says; otherwise, what need of an orator, if they
already appear so, in themselves, and not by reason of his eloquence ?

With respect to diction, one mode of considering the subject is

that which treats of the figures of speech; such as commanding, en-
treating, relating, menacing, interrogating, answering, and the like.
But this belongs properly to the art of acting, and to the professed
masters of that kind. The poet’s knowledge or ignorance of these
things cannot any way materially affect the credit of his art. For who
will suppose there is any justice in the cavil of Protagoras, that in the
words, “The wrath, O goddess, sing,” the poet, where he intended a
prayer, had expressed a command ? for he insists, that to say, do this, or
do it not, is to command. This subject, therefore, we pass over as be-
longing to an art distinct from that of poetry.

Glee. [> * x % * ‘]

1 The whole of this chapter, which consists of clumsy, grammatica] definitions, is

a scholium which has got into the text. As it is by no means a good specimen of the

kind, it may safely be neglected by any student of Aristotle, and is therefore omitted
here.—J. W. D.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 343

Of words some are single, by which I mean composed of parts not Cap. xx1.
significant, and some double: of which last some have one part signifi- Pityrent
cant, and the other not significant; and some, both parts significant. A “°™*
word may also be triple, quadruple, &c.; such are most of the bombastic
expressions, like Hermocaico-xanthus'. Every word is either strictly
appropriate (xipov), or foreign (yA@tta), or metaphorical, or ornamental,
or invented, or extended, or contracted, or altered.

By appropriate words I mean such as are in general and established
use. By foreign, such as belong to a different language: so that the
same word may evidently be both appropriate and foreign, though not
to the same people. The word otyvvor, “a spear,” to the Cyprians is
appropriate, to us foreign.

A metaphorical word is a word transferred from its proper sense ;
either from genus to species, or from species to genus, or from one species
to another, or in the way of analogy.

1. From genus to species: as
vnos 6é wor 75° Earnxe (Od. 1. 185).
Secure in yonder port my vessel stands.

For to be at anchor is one species of standing or being fixed.

2. From species to genus: as
4 5y pup’ ’Odvaceds écO\a eopyev (Il. 1. 272).
*sSodbcee SoSeeeo ee To Ulysses
A thousand generous deeds we owe......
For a thousand is a certain definite many, which is here used for many
in general.

3. From one species to another; as
Xadk@ ard puxiv dpicas.
And -
Teuov dreipét xadk@.
For here the poet uses tapeiv, to cut off, instead of apvoa, to draw
forth ; and dpicas, instead of rapetv; each being a species of taking away.

4. In the way of analogy—when, of four terms, the second bears
the same relation to the first, as the fourth to the third; in which case
the fourth may be substituted for the second, and the second for the
fourth. {And sometimes the proper term is also introduced, besides its
relative term. |

1 I have not hesitated to adopt Tyrwhitt’s emendation, weyadelwy ws for Meya-
Awradv. It is sufficiently confirmed by Xen. Mem. 11. 1, § 34, which he quotes, and
the instance given of a compound containing the names of three rivers deserved some
such description. Aristophanes abounds in similar compounds. Ritter proposes
To\\aTrAomeydAwmos.—J. W. D,

344 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

Thus a cup bears the same relation to Bacchus as a shield to Mars.
A shield, therefore, may be called the cup of Mars (Athen. x, p. 433 c),
and a cup the shield of Bacchus. Again—evening being to day what
old age is to life, the evening may be called the old age of the day, and
old age, the evening of life; or, as Empedocles has expressed it, “ Life’s
setting sun.” It sometimes happens that there is no proper analogous
term answering to the term borrowed, which yet may be used in the
same manner as if there were. For instance—to sow is the term appro-
priated to the action of dispersing seed upon the earth; but the disper-
sion of rays from the sun is expressed by no appropriated term ; it is,
however, with respect to the sun’s light what sowing is with respect to
seed. Hence the poet’s expression of the sun—

otelpwy Oeoxticray pdya.
aoa Sowing abroad
His heaven-created flame,
There is, also, another way of using this kind of metaphor, by adding to
the borrowed word a negation of some of those qualities which belong to
it in its proper sense: as if, mstead of calling a shield the cup of Mars,
we should call it the wineless cup.

An invented word is a word never before used by any one, but coined
by the poet himself, for such it appears there are; as épvvyes, boughs, for
Képara, hors; or apytynp, an utterer of prayer, for iepeds, a priest.

A word is extended when for the proper vowel a longer is substi-
tuted, or a syllable is inserted. A word is contracted when some part of
it is retrenched. Thus zoAnos for roAews, and ITyAniadew for IpA«tdov,
are extended words: contracted, such as xpt, and 60, and oy: e.g.

aoboos pla ylWwerat audorépuy by.

An altered word is a word of which part remains in its usual state,
and part is of the poet’s making: as in

Aeéirepov xara patsy,
deEvtepos is for de€vds.

Cap. xXxm. The excellence of diction consists in being perspicuous, without being
Poetic dic- . . . : .
tion. mean. The most perspicuous is that which is composed of strictly ap-

propriate words, but at the same time it is mean. Such is the poetry of
Cleophon, and that of Sthenelus. That language, on the contrary, is ele-
vated, and remote from the vulgar idiom, which empleys wnusual words:
by wnusual I mean foreign, metaphorical, extended—all, in short, that

1 Here again follows a grammatical scholjum inserted in the text, which for our
present purpose it is better to omit.—J. W. D.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 345

are not strictly appropriate words. Yet, if a poet composes his diction
entirely of such words, the result will be either an enigma, or a barba-
rous jargon: an enigma, if composed of metaphors; a barbarous jargon,
if composed of foreign words. For the essence of an enigma consists in
putting together things apparently inconsistent and impossible, and at the
same time saying nothing but what is true. Now this cannot be effected
by the mere arrangement of the words; by the metaphorical use of them
it may, as in this enigma—

A man I once beheld (and wondering view’d),

Who, on another, brass with fire had glew’d.

With respect to barbarism, it arises from the use of foreign words.
A judicious intermixture is therefore requisite.

Thus the foreign word, the metaphorical, and the ornamental, and
the other species before mentioned, will raise the language above the
vulgar idiom, and appropriate words will give it perspicuity. But
nothing contributes more considerably to produce clearness, without vul-
garity of diction, than eatensions, contractions, and alterations of words ;
for here the variation from the proper form, being wnuswal, will give
elevation to the expression; and at the same time, what is retained of
usual speech will give it clearness. It is without reason, therefore, that
some critics have censured these modes of speech, and ridiculed the poet
for the use of them; as old Huclid did, objecting, that “ versification
would be an easy business, if it were permitted to lengthen words at
pleasure :” and he used to make lines out of mere prose, as

"Emuxdpyy | eldov | Mapal|@avd|5e Bal difov\ral|
and
Ovx dv | yevol!unv rod\Kelvou | éde|Sdpov||!

Undoubtedly, when these licenses appear to be thus purposely used,
the thing becomes ridiculous; in the employment of a// the species of
unusual words, moderation is necessary: for metaphors, foreign words,
or any of the others, improperly used, and with a design to be ridiculous,
would produce the same effect. But how great a difference is made by a
proper and temperate use of such words, may be seen in heroic verse.
Let any one only substitute strictly appropriate words in the place of
the metaphorical, the foreign, and others of the same kind, and he will
be convinced of the truth of what I say. For example: the same iam-
bic verse occurs in Mschylus and in Euripides; but by means of a single

1 As it is clear that Euclid wished to give examples of lines, scanned by making
short syllables long, and as it is certain from Rhet. 11. 17, § 16, that lauSoroéw may
refer to a Trochaic as well as to an Iambic line, I have merely introduced such slight
alterations into the false Trochaic and Iambic lines in the text, as were required to
make sense of them.—J. W. D.

346 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

alteration—the substitution of a foreign for an appropriate and usual
word, one of these verses appears beautiful, the other ordinary. For
Aischylus, in his Philoctetes, says:
Payédawa, yj wou cdpxas éoOler rodbs—
The cank’rous wound that eats my flesh.
But Euripides, instead of éoO/e, “eats,” uses Oowdrat, “feasts on.”
The same difference will appear, if in this verse,

Nov dé w’ édy édiyos re kal odTLOavés Kal Axckus,
we substitute common words, and say:

Noy 6é pw’ éwy pixpds re kal doOevexds Kal decdns.
So, again, should we for the following,

Algpov deckédtov Karabels, dNlynv Te Tpdwefav—

substitute this:
Aldpov woxOnpoy Kkarabels, wikpadv TE Tpdmrefay.

Or change "Hidves Bodwo.w—* The shores rebellow,’—to "Hidves xpd-
Covoetv —“ The shores ery out.”

[Ariphrades, also, endeavoured to throw ridicule upon the tragic
poets, for making use of such expressions as no one would think of using
in common speech: as dopdTwv azo, instead of do dwparwv: and ober,
and éya 8¢ vw (Soph. Gd. C. 986), and ’AyiAXéws wep, instead of rept
*AyiAXéws, &e. Now it is precisely owing to their being zof strictly
regular, that such expressions have the effect of giving elevation to the
diction. But this he did not know. |]

To employ with propriety any of these modes of speech—the double
words, the foreign, &c. is a great excellence; but the greatest of all is to
be happy in the use of metaphor; for it is this alone which cannot be
acquired, and which, consisting in a quick discernment of resemblances,
is a certain mark of genius.

Of the different kind of words the double are best suited to dithy-
rambic poetry, the foreign to heroic, the metaphorical to iambic. In
heroic poetry, indeed, they have a// their place; but to iambic verse,
which is, as much as may be, an imitation of common speech, those
words which are used in common speech are best adapted; and such are
the strictly appropriate, the metaphorical, and the ornamental.

a * % I

Concerning Tragedy, and the imitation by action, enough has now
been said.

_1 Spengel says (u. s. p. 251): ‘‘ There is here an hiatus of several leaves ; what is
said about the Aéés cannot possibly suffice; and where is the weAomodta, of which not
even the name is mentioned?’—J. W. D.

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. B47

C. Epic Poetry.

With respect to that species of poetry which imitates by narration,
and in hewameter verse, it is obvious that the story ought to be drama-
tically constructed, like that of Tragedy: and that it should have for its
subject one entire and perfect action, having a beginning, and middle, and
an end; so that, forming, like an animal, a complete whole, it may afford
its proper pleasure: widely differing, in its construction, from history,
which necessarily treats, not of one action, but of one time, and of all
the events that happened to one person, or to many, during that time;
events, the relation of which to each other is merely casual. For, as the
naval action at Salamis, and the battle with the Carthaginians in Sicily,
were events of the same time, unconnected by any relation to a common
end or purpose; so also, in successive events, we sometimes see one
thing fol/ow another, without resulting in a common end. And this is
the practice of the generality of poets. Even in this, therefore, as we
have before observed, Homer, as compared with all others, would seem
to be a divine poet (Gearéoros); for he did not attempt to bring the
whole war, though an entire action with beginning and end, into his
poem. It would have been too vast an object, and not easily compre-
hended in one view; or, had he forced it into a moderate compass, it
would have been perplexed by its variety. Instead of this, selecting one
part only of the war, he has, from the rest, introduced many episodes—
such as the catalogue of the ships, and others, with which he has inter-
spersed his poem. Other poets take for their subject the actions of one
person or of one period of time, or an action which, though one, is com-
posed of too many parts. Thus the author of the°Cypria, and of the
Little Iliad. (|Hence it is, that the Iliad and the Odyssey each of them
furnish matter for one tragedy, or two, at most; but from the Cypria
many may be taken, and from the Little Zliad more than eight; as, Zhe
Contest for the Armour, Philoctetes, Neoptolemus, Eurypylus, The Vagrant,
The Spartan Women, The Fall of Troy, The Return of the Fleet, Sinon,
and The Trojan Women. |

Again—the epic poem must also agree with the tragic, as to its
kinds: it must be simple or complicated, moral or disastrous. Its parts,
also, setting aside music and decoration, are the same; for it requires
revolutions, discoveries, and disasters; and it must be furnished with
proper sentiments and diction: of all which Homer gave both the first,
and the most perfect example. Thus, of his two poems, the J/iad is of
the simple and disastrous kind; the Odyssey, complicated (for it abounds

Cap. XX1IT.

Epic poetry
must have a
unity of its
own.

Cap. XxI .
Epic and
tragic poetry
compared.

348 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

throughout in discoveries) and moral. Add to this, that in language
and sentiments he has surpassed all poets.

The epic poem differs from tragedy, in the length of its plan, and in
its metre.

With respect to length, a sufficient measure has already been as-
signed. It should be such as to admit of our comprehending at one view
the beginning and the end: and this would be the case, if the epic poem
were reduced from its ancient length, so as not to exceed that of such a
number of tragedies as are performed successively at one hearing, But
there is a circumstance in the nature of epic poetry which affords it
peculiar latitude in the extension of its plan. It is not in the power of
Tragedy to imitate several different actions performed at the same time ;
it can imitate only that one which occupies the stage, and in which the
actors are employed. But the epic imitation, being narrative, admits of
many such simultaneous incidents, properly related to the subject, which
swell the poem to a considerable size. And this gives it a great ad-
vantage, both in point of magnificence, and also as it enables the poet to
relieve his hearer, and diversify his work, by a variety of dissimilar
episodes: for it is to the satiety naturally arising from similarity that
tragedies frequently owe their ill success.

With respect to metre, the heroic is established by experience as the
most proper, so that, should any one compose a narrative poem in any
other, or in a variety of metres, he would be thought guilty of a great
impropriety. For the heroic is the gravest and most majestic of all
measures: [and hence it is, that it peculiarly admits the use of foreign
and metaphorical expressions; for in this respect also, the narrative
imitation is abundant and various beyond the rest:] but the Iambic and
Trocbaic have more motion; the latter being adapted to dance, the
other to action and business. To mix these different metres as Cheré-
mon has done, would be still more absurd. No one, therefore, has ever
attempted to compose a poem of an extended plan in any other than
heroic verse; nature itself, as we before observed, pointing out the
proper choice.

Among the many just claims of Homer to our praise, this is one—
that he is the only poet who seems to have understood what part in
his poem it was proper for him to take himself The poet, in his
own person, should speak as little as possible; for he is not then the
imitator. But other poets, ambitious to figure throughout themselves,
imitate but little, and seldom, Homer, after a few preparatory lines,
immediately introduces a man, a woman, or some other character ; for
all have their character—nowhere are the manners neglected.

The surprising is necessary in Tragedy; but the epic poem goes

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 349

farther, and admits even the improbable and incredible, from which the
highest degree of the surprising results, because, there, the action is
not seen. The circumstances, for example, of the pursuit of Hector by
Achilles, are such as upon the stage would appear ridiculous ;—the
Grecian army standing still, and taking no part in the pursuit, and
Achilles making signs to them, by the motion of his head, not to inter-
fere. But in the epic poem this escapes our notice. Now the wonder-
Jul always pleases; as is evident from the additions which men always
make in relating anything, in order to gratify the hearers.

It is from Homer principally that other poets have learned the art
of properly narrating fictions. This consists in a sort of sophism.
When one thing is observed to be constantly followed by another, men
are apt to conclude, that if the latter 7s, or happens, the former must
also be or must happen. But this is a fallacy’.

The poet should prefer impossibilities which appear probable, to such
things as, though possible, appear improbable. He should not produce
a plan made up of improbable incidents, [but he should, if possible,
admit no one circumstance of that kind; or, if he does, it should be
exterior to the action itself, like the ignorance of Wdipus concerning
the manner in which Zaius died; not within the drama, like the narra-
tive of what happened at the Pythian games, in the Electra; or in
The Mysians, the man who travels from Tegea to Mysia without speak-
ing.| To say, that without these circumstances the fable would have
been destroyed, is a ridiculous excuse: the poet should take care, from
the first, not to construct his fable in that manner. If, however, any-
thing of this kind has been admitted, and yet is made to pass under
some colour of probability, it may be allowed, though even in itself
absurd. Thus, in the Odyssey, the improbable account of the manner
in which Ulysses was landed upon the shore of Ithaca is such as, in the
hands of an ordinary poet, would evidently have been intolerable: but
here the absurdity is concealed under the various beauties, of other
kinds, with which the poet has embellished it.

The diction should be most laboured in the idle parts of the
poem—those in which neither manners nor sentiments prevail; for
the manners and the sentiments are only obscured by too splendid a

diction.
a * * * % *]

1 The editions here insert the following Scholium: 6:6 5%, ay 7d mparov Weddos,
Gov dé rovrou bvTos, dudyKn a elvau 7} yertrbae mpoo Betvat. dua yap 7d TovTo eldévac

adnGes by, ye quay h Yuxh Kal 7d mpGrov ws bv. mapdderyua dé ToT éx Tay
Nirrpwr.—J. W. D

? Here follows a Chapter xxv., which is not in the style of Aristotle, and may
safely be omitted for the reasons given by Ritter.—J. W. D.

Cap. xxv.

Cap. XXVIL
Superiority
of tragic to
epic poetry.

350 ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY.

It may be inquired, farther, which of the two imitations, the epic
or the tragic, deserves the preference.

If that, which is the least vulgar or popular of the two, be the best,
and that be such which is calculated for the better sort of spectators—
the imitation which extends to every circumstance must evidently be
the most vulgar or popular; for there the imitators have recourse to
every kind of motion and gesticulation, as if the audience, without the
aid of action, were incapable of understanding them: like bad flute-
players, who whirl themselves round when they would imitate the
motion of the discus, and pull the Coryphzus, when Scylla is the sub-
ject. Such is Tragedy. It may also be compared to what the modern
actors are in the estimation of their predecessors ; for M/yniscus used to
eall Callippides, on account of his intemperate action, the ape: and
Tyndarus was censured on the same account. What these performers
are with respect to their predecessors, the tragic imitation, when entire,
is to the epic. The latter, then, it is urged, addresses itself to hearers
of the better sort, to whom the addition of gesture is superfluous: but
Tragedy is for the people; and being, therefore, the most vulgar kind of
imitation, is evidently the inferior.

But now, in the first place, this censure falls, not upon the poet's
art, but upon that of the actor; for the gesticulation may be equally
laboured in the recitation of an epic poem, as it was by Sosistratus ;
and in singing, as by Jnasitheus the Opuntian.

Again—aAll gesticulation is not to be condemned, since even all
dancing is not; but such only as is unbecoming—such as was objected
to Callippides, and is now objected to others, whose gestures resemble
those of immodest women.

Further—Tragedy, as well as the epic, is capable of producing its
effect, even without action; we can judge of it perfectly by reading.
If, then, in other respects, Tragedy be superior, it is sufficient that the
fault here objected is not essential to it.

Tragedy has the advantage in the following respects. It possesses
all that is possessed by the epic; it might even adopt its metre; and
to this it makes no inconsiderable addition in the music and the
decoration ; by the latter of which the illusion is heightened, and
the pleasure, arising from the action, is rendered more sensible and
striking.

It has the advantage of greater clearness and distinctness of im-
pression, as well in reading as in representation.

It has also that of attaining the end of its imitation in a shorter
compass: for the effect is more pleasurable, when produced by a short
and close series of impressions, than when weakened by diffusion

ARISTOTLE’S TREATISE ON POETRY. 351

through a long extent of time; as the Gdipus of Sophocles, for exam-
ple, would be, if it were drawn out to the length of the Ziad. Further:
there is less wnity in all epic imitation; as appears from this—that any
epic poem will furnish matter for several Tragedies. For, supposing
the poet to choose a fable strictly one, the consequence must be, either,
that his poem, if proportionably contracted, will appear curtailed and
defective, or, if extended to the usual length, will become weak, and,
as it were, diluted. If, on the other hand, we suppose him to employ
several fables—that is, a fable composed of several actions—his imitation
is no longer strictly one. The Jliad, for example, and the Odyssey,
contain many such subordinate parts, each of which has a certain mag-
nitude and unity of its own; yet is the construction of those poems
as perfect, and as nearly approaching to the imitation of a single action
as possible.

If then, Tragedy be superior to the epic in all these respects,
and also in the peculiar end at which it aims (for each species ought
to afford, not any sort of pleasure indiscriminately, but such only
as has been pointed out), it evidently follows, that Tragedy, as it
attains more effectually the end of the art itself, must deserve the
preference.

{And thus much concerning Tragic and epic poetry in general, and
their several species—the number and the differences of their parts—the
causes of their beauties and their defects—the censures of critics, and
the principles on which they are to be answered. |

(II.)

VITRUV IGS

ON THE STRUCTURE OF THE THEATRE,

De conformatione theairi facienda.

PSIUS autem theatri conformatio sic est facienda, uti, quam magna

futura est perimetros imi, centro medio collocato circumagatur linea
rotundationis, in eaque quatuor scribantur trigona paribus lateribus et
interyallis, que extremam lineam circinationis tangant: quibus etiam
in duodecim signorum celestium descriptione astrologi ex musica con-
venientia astrorum ratiocinantur. Ex his trigonis cuius latus fuerit
proximum scene ea regione, qua precidit curvaturam circinationis, ibi
finiatur scene frons, et ab eo loco per centrum parallelos linea ducatur,
que disiungat proscenii pulpitum et orchestre regionem. 2. Ita latius
factum fuerit pulpitum quam Grecorum, quod omnes artifices in scena
dant operam: in orchestra autem senatorum sunt sedibus loca desig-
nata: et eius pulpiti altitudo sit ne plus pedum quinque, uti qui in
orchestra sederint, spectare possint omnium agentium gestus. Cunei
spectaculorum in theatro ita dividantur, uti anguli trigonorum, qui
currunt circum curvaturam circinationis, dirigant ascensus scalasque
inter cuneos ad primam precinctionem. Supra autem alternis itineri-
bus superiores cunei medii dirigantur. 3. Hi autem, qui sunt in imo et
dirigunt scalaria, erunt numero septem, [anguli| reliqui quinque scene
designabunt compositionem ; et unus medius contra se valvas regias
habere debet ; et qui erunt dextra ac sinistra hospitalium designabunt
compositionem; extremi duo spectabunt itinera versurarum., Gradus
spectaculorum, ubi subsellia componantur, ne minus alti sint palmopede,
ne plus pede et digitis sex: latitudines eorum ne plus pedes duos semis,
ne minus pedes duo constituantur. / Tectum porticus, quod futurum est in
summa gradatione, cum scene altitudine libratum perficiatur ideo, quod

VITRUVIUS ON THE STRUCTURE OF THE THEATRE. 353

vox crescens squaliter ad summas gradationes et tectum perveniet.
Namque si non erit zquale, quo minus fuerit altum, vox preripietur ad
eam altitudinem, ad quam perveniet primo. 5. Orchestra inter gradus
imos quam diametron habuerit, eius sexta pars sumatur, et in cornibus
utrinque aditus ad eius mensure perpendiculum inferiores sedes preci-
dantur, et qua precisio fuerit, ibi constituantur itinerum supercilia ; ita
enim satis altitudinem habebunt eorum confornicationes. 6. Scenx
longitudo ad orchestre diametron duplex fieri debet: podii altitudo ab
libramento pulpiti cum corona et lysi duodecima orchestre diametri :
supra podium columne cum capitulis et spiris alte quarta parte eiusdem
diametri: epistylia et ornamenta earum columnarum altitudinis quinta
parte: pluteum insuper cum unda et corona inferioris plutei dimidia
parte: supra id pluteum column quarta parte minore altitudine sint
quam inferiores: epistylia et ornamenta earum columnarum quinta
parte. Item si tertia episcenos futura erit, mediani plutei summum
sit dimidia parte : columne summz medianarum minus alte sint quarta
parte: epistylia cum coronis earum columnarum item habeant alti-
tudinis quintam partem. 7. Nec tamen in omnibus theatris symme-
trie ad omnes rationes et effectus possunt respondere, sed oportet
architectum animadvertere, quibus proportionibus necesse sit sequi sym-
metriam, et quibus rationibus ad .loci naturam magnitudinem operis
debeat temperari. Sunt enim res, quas et in pusillo et in magno thea-
tro necesse est eadem magnitudine fieri propter usum; uti gradus,
diazomata, pluteos, itinera, adscensus, pulpita, tribunalia, et si qua alia

intercurrunt, ex quibus necessitas cogit discedere ab symmetria, ne im-
pediatur usus. Non minus si qua exiguitas copiarum, id est marmoris,
materie, reliquarumque rerum, que parantur, in opere defuerint, paulu-
lum demere aut adiicere, dum id ne nimium improbe fiat sed cum sensu,
non erit alienum. Hoc autem erit, si architectus erit usu peritus, pre-
terea ingenio mobili solertiaque non fuerit viduatus. 8. Ipse autem
scenze suas habeant rationes explicatas ita, uti medi valve ornatus
habeant aule regie; dextra ac sinistra hospitalia: secundum autem
spatia ad ornatus comparata, que loca Greci wepiaxrovs dicunt ab eo,
quod machine sunt in iis locis versatiles trigonz, habentes in singula
tres species ornationis, que cum aut fabularum mutationes sunt future,
seu deorum adventus cum tonitribus repentinis, versentur mutentque
speciem ornationis in frontes: secundum ea loca versure sunt procur-
rentes, que efficiunt una a foro altera a peregre aditus in scenam.
9. Genera autem sunt scenarum tria: unum, quod dicitur tragicum, alte-
rum comicum, tertium satyricum. Horum autem ornatus sunt inter se
dissimili disparique ratione : quod tragic deformantur columnis et fas-
tigiis et signis reliquisque regalibus rebus: comic autem edificiorum

D. T. G. R 23

354 VITRUVIUS ON THE STRUCTURE OF THE THEATRE.

privatorum et menianorum habent speciem, prospectusque fenestris dis-
positos imitatione communium -edificiorum rationibus: satyrice vero
ornantur arboribus, speluncis, montibus, reliquisque agrestibus rebus in
rorewon speciem deformatis.

De theatris Grecorum.

In Grecorum theatris non omnia iisdem rationibus sunt facienda;
quod primum in ima circinatione, ut in Latino trigonorum quatuor, in
eo quadratorum trium anguli circinationis lineam tangunt: et cuius
quadrati latus est proximum scene preciditque curvaturam circinatio-
nis, ea regione designatur finitio proscenii; et ab ea regione ad extremam
circinationem curvature parallelos linea designatur, in qua constituitur
frons scene; per centrumque orchestre proscenii e regione parallelos
linea describitur, et qua secat circinationis lineas dextra ac sinistra in
cornibus hemicycli, centra designantur, et circino collocato in dextra, ab
intervallo sinistro circumagatur circinatio ad proscenii dextram partem ;
item centro collocato in sinistro cornu, ab intervallo dextro circumaga-
tur ad proscenii sinistram partem. 2. Ita a tribus centris hac descrip-
tione ampliorem habent orchestram Greci et scenam recessiorem
minoreque latitudine pulpitum, quod Aoyetov appellant, ideo quod apud
eos tragici et comici actores in scena peragunt, reliqui autem artifices
suas per orchestram preestant actiones. Itaque ex eo scenici et thyme-
lici Greece separatim nominantur. LEius logei altitudo non minus debet
esse pedum decem, non plus duodecim, Gradationes scalarum inter
cuneos et sedes contra quadratorum angulos dirigantur ad primam pre-
cinctionem: ab ea precinctione inter eas iterum mediz dirigantur, et
ad summam quotiens precinguntur, altero tanto semper amplificantur.

De locis consonantibus ad theatra eligendis.

Cum hee omnia summa cura solertiaque explicata sint, tunc etiam
diligentius est animadvertendum, uti sit electus locus, in quo leniter
applicet se vox, neque repulsa resiliens incertas auribus referat significa-
tiones. Sunt enim nonnulli loci naturaliter impedientes vocis motus,
uti dissonantes, qui Grace dicuntur xarnxodvres : circumsonantes, qui
apud eos nominantur zepenxoovres: item resonantes, qui dicuntur avry-
xoovres: consonantesque, quos appellant avvyxotvras. Dissonantes sunt,
in quibus vox prima, cum est elata in altitudinem, offensa superioribus
solidis corporibus, repulsaque resiliens in imum, opprimit imsequentis
vocis elationem. 2. Circumsonantes autem sunt, in quibus circumva-
gando coacta vox se solvens in medio sine extremis casibus sonans, ibi

VITRUVIUS ON THE STRUCTURE OF THE THEATRE. 355

extinguitur incerta verborum significatione. Resonantes vero, in quibus,
cum in solido tactu percussa resiliat, imagines exprimendo novissimos
casus duplices faciunt auditu. Item consonantes sunt, in quibus ab imis
auxiliata, cum incremento scandens, ingreditur ad aures diserta verbo-
rum claritate. Ita si in locorum electione fuerit, diligens animadversio,
emendatus erit prudentia ad utilitatem in theatris vocis effectus.

Formarum autem descriptiones inter se discriminibus his erunt
notate, uti que ex quadratis designantur, Greecorum habeant usus,
Latin paribus lateribus trigonorum. Ita his prescriptionibus qui
voluerit uti, emendatas efficiet theatrorum perfectiones.

yi}

Lib. tv.
§ 95.

(III.)

JULIUS, POLLUX

ON THE VOCABULARY OF THE DRAMA.

‘ > a“ \ > ,
Ilept opxnorou Kat opxncews.

I 8€ Kat Opxnots pépos povoikys, pytéov, opxynoTys, opxXnoTKos,
opxjcacba, vropxyncacba, eopyjoacbar, opxypata, vropxnpata.

Taxa d¢ Kal "Opxopevos, Tapa tiv Tov Xapitwv opxnow, ws Evdopiov:

’Opxopevoy Xapitecow adaperw opxnbevra.

eTOPXOVPEVOS, OPXHTTPA, OpxyaTpLa, OpxynoTpils, opxnrTodwarKahos. oXN-
paricacba, oxnpatorojcacba. evoxnpoovvy, evpvOuia, evappootia, vetoat,
ovarovetoat, poppacat, Tapayayely THY Kepadry, dieveyKetv, TEpLeveyKEiy,
repiaywyn xpncaoOar, TGV XELpGV TepLaywyH, TNOPTAL, TePpixioa TUppixn
évorAvos Opxyats. eizois 8 av opynotyy, Kovgov, éladpov, wydyrixov, adti-
KdV, Evdppootov, evpvOpov, edoxypova, Vypov, TovaxHpova, evapyy, ev-

, , > , , ™” > ,
Sextuxov, SnAwtikdv, eriderkTiKOV, TavTodaToV, EvTpeTTOV, evTpamedov, dy-

7 payorytxov, Snporeprn, oxXAoTEpTH, Lypowedy, padiov, mpoxetpov, evKodov,

a ,
evxap7a, AvywortiKov, eriKAupevov, eEvypavopevov, Taxvxeipa, Taxvrovy,
we ” ee 3 ” ‘ ‘ , , >
evkehadoy, evopov, taopopov, evTaKTOV* Kal Ta TpaypaTta KovpoTyra, éda-
> > , , , « ,

dpornta, mHdnwa, aApa, evappooriav, evpvOpiav, evoxnmoorvvyv, vypoTyTa,
> , , , » 5 8 / > e ,
évapyornta, téepyw, ravyyup, evdekw, Sydwow, eridecéw, pactwryy,
, , >
ekoXay, Avywrpov, Tapaywyjv, Tapadopay, Kap, ofvxeipiav, edxetpiay,

, , , > , > , . -s ‘ ‘4 er ,
Taxvxepiav, evrodiav, evpopiav, iropopiay, evtagiav. Kat ta pypata dé,

98 kovgicbjvat, eAadpicacba, wydjoat, TapadynrAdaa, éerdeiEacbar, éevdeiEac-

Oat, rapevdeigacbar, taperdeiEacbar, Avyicar TO THpa, Kapa, Kracat.
Kal Ta érippypata opxnotixos, edoxnpoves, modvexnpoves, eipvOpus,
evappooTws, Vypas, evapyds, evderxTiKds, SyAwTLKds, érOELKTLKOS, TaVvIyU-
piKGs, TEpTVaS, padiws, EvKdAWs, Evpopws, ivopopws, EVTaKTWS* Ta yap
avo TOV a\wy Tpaxéa,

JULIUS POLLUX ON THE VOCABULARY OF THE DRAMA. 357

Tlept eidav opyyoeus.

Eis be > , > aN / / 8 , ‘
(dn O€ opxnparwy, eupéAera TpayiKy, KOpOAaKES KWPLKOL, OLKLVVLS
/ ; tS > / Be: 2 ‘\ , > 7 v0
catupiky. évorAwot opxnoes, Tuppixn TE Kal TeAETias, ErwVYBOL OVO
cal > a ~ ‘
Kpyrav opxnorav, Ulvppiyov te Kat Tedeolov. éxadctro b€ Te Kal
c , a o > \ ‘ > ‘ A
Evhiopds, kal rodirpds, Kal pixvotobat, orep Tv TO THY oapvy PopTiKws
4 > \ \ a. > > , ‘ / e ,
Tepudyev. iv dé Kal Kdpmos €ldos opxncews. Kal TeTpdxwpos, “Hpaxdéous
e , ‘ , > . ‘ , , ‘ ‘ »” ‘
iepd, Kal moAeuiky. WV O€ KAL KWMACTLKY, PAXNV Kal TANyas EXoVTG, KAaL
cas tas ‘ , \ oo” 7 \ > ,
HOUKwpOS, Ndiwv, Kal KVUTpOS, Kal OKAaCpA’ OUTW yap ev Oecpopopralovorats
> , ie 4 \ \ ‘ , ‘ > ota N ire ‘
ovopalerar TO dpynua To Ilepouxoy Kal ovvrovov. tHv 6 avtiv Kal vypav
ae > lal
wvopatov. Kat daddrkov opxnpa emt Avovicw, Kai KadXtviKos ép “HpaxXet.
‘ ‘ , > rf ‘
kat KohaBpicpos @pdxiov dpxnua Kal Kapixov' jv b€ kai todto évotAvov.
‘ a a , € , »” \ ‘
kat Bavkicpos Bavxou épxnotod Kdpos eruvupos, apa Tis opxnots Kal TO
”~ > Vd ‘ /, i" > Li \ > / \om”
cdpa evypaivovca. Baxtpiacpos dé, Kal aTOKUWoS, Kal aTOTELOLS, KAL tyots,
> A ° an Cal > / “~ / c ,
acedyf €idy opxycewr, ev TH TIS OTpvos Tepipopa, kal oTpoBiros. o d€ pobwr,
»” tal > A
optixov opxnpa, Kal vavtikdv. tiv S& yépavoy Kata TAOos wpxovvTo,
, A ~ c 4 ,
éxuatos ef’ ExdoTw Kata OTOLXOV, TA akpa ExaTépwHev TGV HYELOVWV EXOVTUY,
~ A , “~ ‘ \ / \ > / A > ‘
Tov Tept Oncéa tpaTov wept Tov Ayjdiov Bwpov arropipnoapevov THV azo
a »” /, > ‘\ ,
Tod AaBupivOov e€odov. Kai Sirodia dé, dpynpa Aakwvexov- jv OE Kat ylyypas
‘\ > \ »” > , lol > , c (id be ‘ 6
mpos avrov opxnpa, erwvupov TOD avAnpatos. EKaTEploes OE KaL Veppav-
> / \ a“ a c
aorpides, @&rova épxnpara, TO pev xXElpav Kivyow acKodv, 7 Sé Gepyavorpis
/ ‘ X > / a > ? , “3 » > Ce ‘
anontixov. Ta dé ékNaxticpara yuvaiKdv jv opxijpatat ede 0 vmEep Tov
> > , \ , dé > 75 A > , e
Gpov ékdaxtioa. Kat BiBaois de te qv cidos Aakwrixys opxyrews, 7S
‘ \ * yey, > A ‘ , > ‘ \ a , ”
kal 7a GOAa mpovribero ov Tots maol povov, aAAd Kai Tals Kopats* eet
. 4 \ , a \ \ ‘ , ‘ > aA ‘
8& dAAerOar wat Wavew tots wool mpos Tas Tvyds. Kal npiOpettro Ta
, a“ Ss
ryonpara, OOev Kal eri puas nv eriypapypa,
, / , a“ ' - A ,
xidua roxa BuBar, wreiota 8) TOY 7H ToKA.
‘\ ‘ / > Lal > EIN} >? > \ , ” 7, ,
tas 8& zwakidas WpxovvTO ovK olda Eit ext TWaKWV, «TE TiVaKas pe-
4 ‘ ‘ ‘ bell 10 g / * > ft) ,
povres’ TO yap Kepvodopov opynpa oida ore ixva 7 ExXapioas epov-
, . a ae A \ x, Co ‘ > , 5 > a
res: képva 88 tatra éxadeiro. To dé “Iwvikov “Aprépide wpxodvto Sixe-
a“ > n / > , c
NGrar patvora. 7d Sé ayyeAtixov euipetro cXypata ayyéAwv. oO d€ popda-
\ Lal , , > > /, ‘ 4, \ > > ‘\ ‘
opos mavtodardv Cdwv pipnos jv. tv 5€ Te Kat oxo. Tod avTo Kai
~ / ‘ ‘ ‘\ fol
oxwrias, etdos 6pxnoews, Exov Ta TOU TpaxyAoV TEepipopay KATA THV TOV
»” , a 3.39. 4 , ‘ \ »” ey s « Ms /
épviOos piynow, ds im exrdifews Tpos THY Opxnow adioKeTaL. Oo d€ A€wv
a \
opxnoews poBepas «dos. av S€ Twa kal Aakwvika opxyjpata, Sepadéa.
‘ > * ‘ >? Wee , "ee > , ‘
Seyvol 8 joav, kal ex avrois Larvpor vrotpowa opxovpevor. Kat
WvpBor ert Avoviow. cal xapvarides emt “Apréyidi. Kai Bpvadixa, To pev
VA - -~ > >
etpna Bpvadixov, mpocwpxoovto 8 yuvaikes “AroAAwVE Kal Aprepwide.
e , ,
of & Uroytrwves, yepovtwv U0 Baxryplats THY ppnow cixov" ot dé yurures,
, a a > ,
évr\ivev Koddov ériBatvovtes, Opxodvto, Suadav7y TapavTwiowa aprexomevol.
‘\ \ > , > a > a
Kat ppv "EoxapwOov dpxnia exuvepov av Tod evpovtos avAyTov. Tup-
, > , ‘ /, ‘\ : t
Baciav § éxddovv 76 Spxnpa To SOvpapBrxov, Secxyrotucny Se Sv ys epe-

101

104

105

106

107

108

109

110

111

305 «| JULIUS POLLUX ON THE

a \ TaN a A a e/ A ec , /
poovto Tovs emt TH KAOTH TOV EwrAwv KpEedv GALoKOpEvoS. opBpdTepov
a lol ‘ a ‘\ \ ‘\ 7
dé qv 8 wpxodvTo yupvol avy aicxpodroyia. qv b€ Kal TO TXLOTAS EAKeW,
~ > £ fal é be 8 cal > NX / ‘\ aN x
TXLA opxnoTews ywpiKns. ce O€ TydavTa ewaddatTEeW Ta oKEAN. Kal
a ‘ / / \
PV TpayiKis opxjoews TA oXHpata, oyrn xXElp, Kadabiokos, XElp KaTa-
mpavyns, EvAov mapadnis, SizdAj, Oeppavotpis, kvBioryos, mapaPjvas
a > > > ” a
TéeTTApA. O O€ TETPAKWLOS, TO THS OpXHTEws Eidos, OK Oda El TL TPOTHKOV
~ . > a a ,
qv tots “AOyvyot tetpaxwpors, ot joav, Iletparets, Padypets, Zuretatoves,
Ovporadat.
‘ A A XN lol 4
Tlepit xopov, xopevtov, Kal TOV TOLOUTWY.
, OF A , , , , N aN
Tovtors 6 dv mpoonKot xopos, XopoTotia, yopooTaaia, Xoptkov péXos,
cal , / / / , c , e c
Xopedorat, XopevTys, TvyXOpEYTYS, XopNYOS, Xopyyla, Xopyylov o ToTOs, ov
~ fol XA , / A
Tapackevy TOD xopyyou. mpooxopov €, Kal TvyxXopertplav KEKAHKE THY OVY-
c \ A a A ,
Xopevovoav “Apiotopavys. yyenuv Xopov, Kopupatos Xopov, XopodEKTys,
, 4 ‘ >
xoporrotds, SidaoKahos, vrodiadoKados, XopodwacKkadros, decooTaTys, apia-
7 \ ‘\ Lal / 2
TEpogTarns, AaLoETaTYS, TpLToTTATYS. Kal THV yuvaiKka 5€, TpirocTatw “Apio-
an hy > , , / \ « ,
Topavys KaNEl. TaLdiKOS XOPOS, AVOPLKOS, KWPLLKOS, TPAYLKOS. Kal HLLXOpLOV
? > \ \ ee
dé, Kal dixopia, Kal avtixopia. €ouke d€ TavTov cival TavTi TA Tpla OvopaTa.
a ‘\ A A
oroTay yap 0 xopos eis dv0 diaipeOH, TO ev TpGypa Kadetrau dixopia, ExaTépa
a > / > r
dé 1) poipa nytxopiov, & b€ avtadovow, avtixopia. tpixopiav d€ Tuptatos
a a ”
eorTnoe, Tpets Maxwvev xopovs, kal’ yAtKkiav éxaornv, Tatdas, avopas, yépovTas.
SEEN 8e fal \ / \ NY \ Vi A, Je X ” }
ert b€ yopod, Kal cupwvia, Kal gvvwdia, Kal cvvavdia. Kal mev eloodos
Lal ~ / 8 “ c be \ , HE 5 c Xx 5 /

TOU Xopod, mapodos KaAciTat. 1 S€ KaTA xpeEiav ELodos, ws Taw cioLOVTwY,
/ c ‘ > ° ‘ »” 8 > / 8 c Oe oN , WE ) »”
petaotacis. 1 d€ per avtnv eicodos, ererapodos. 1 O€ TeAcia Efodos, ado-

lol \
dos. Kal erevrddiov O€ ev Spapact mpaypa mpdypate ovvarTopevov. Kal
< ape A“ n y \
péAdos O€ te eSdd.ov, 6 eStovtes WOov. Meépy dé xopod, orotxos, Cvyds. Kat
Cal lal lal A Cal /
Tpayikoo pev xopodv, Cuyd wévte ek Tpudv Kal oTotxor TpEls EK TEVTE.
tal \ ¥ ‘
TevTeKaideKa yap oav 0 Xopos. Kal KaTa Tpels pev ciojecay, ei Kata Cvya
/ c /, 5 > be - \ , > \ , > / ” G 7
yyvoiro 1 Tapodos, et b€ Kata oTolxous, ava TévTEe cicyecav. eoO OTE
IN ‘ — ¢ > a \ U c x \ \ s ‘
€ Kal Kal eva érotodvto THv Tapodov. oO d€ KwLKOS Yopos TETTapES KAL
eikoow ot xopevtal, Cuya e&, exaorov de Lvyov ex rertapwv, arotxor dé
, Ao oF a
Tegoapes, €& avdpas éxwv Ekaotos. OmoTEe pev avTt TeTapTov VmroKpLTOU
, \ a a r a n \ a
déou Twa Tadv Xopevtdv eizeiv ev OdH, TapacKyviov Kaheirae TO Tpaypa.
? be 4 ec , Loe a ‘ > 2) a
€l O€ TETAPTOS VroKpLTs TL TapadhbéyEaTo, TOTO Tapaxopyynpa exaXetTo.
a c
Kat mempaxbat hacw adto év ’Ayapepvove Aicy’dov. 70 dé wadawov o
\ \ a \ \
TPAYLKOS XOpOS TEeVvTHKOVTA Hoav, axpt TOV Evpevidwy AicyvAov. mpos S€ Tov
” Xr , el a“ ry ‘6 > bé , ey c , > 2. ,
oxAov autav tov rAnfovs eéxmtonGevtos, auveoTetdey Oo vopmos eis eEAaTTW
> ‘
apiO pov Tov xXopov.

‘ “ . ,
Ilept yopexav AT PATwV.

Ta de A > , a “ o A c , 7
av O€ XOpiKGV gopaTwv TOV KwLKOV & TL Kal 1 TapaBacts, oTav
a c ‘ ‘ \

& © TouTys mpos TO Géarpov BovAnrat Aé€yew, 0 Xopds wapelOuv Ré€yer

VOCABULARY OF THE DRAMA. 359

ee! > a \ S225 A e , \ \ >
radra, emiexds S& atTd Tolotow of Kwpwdomountat, tpayiKov S€ ovK
™” > > al , rs
éorw> GAN Evpuridns atro meroinxey év modXois Spapacw. ev pev ye
Lal , \ ‘ a c cal “A
7 Aavay tov xopov tds yuvaikas vrép avTod TL Tomoas apace, ek-
/ c ” cal A Cal
AaOdpevos, ws avdpas N€yew eroinoe TE TXHpATL TIS Aé~ews Tas yuvaiKas.
\ “~ Mi \ “ ‘\ cal nw oq
Kat YodoxAjs S& adro ek THs mpos exelvov apirdrns Tore OTAVLAKLS, WOTTEP
> c , lal s / Lal a ~ A /
év ‘Inréve. rhs pevto TapaBdoews THS KopiKys ETA av ein fLEpy, KOp-
, ( , Li PENS > , > soe
pariov, tapdBaots, paxpov, otpopy, érippnya, avtiotpopos, avTeTippnpyd.
e \ . , , , > , / c ‘ ‘
Gv TO pev Kopparov, KaraBody tis éote Bpaxéos pedovs. 7) d€ wapaBacts,
c \ \ ‘ > ° , , > > > \ 3 » Be WG ‘
WS TO TOAD MEV EV AVATALTTH [LETPH EL & ovv kat év GAAw, avaraiocTa TO
Pree ” N oe, , , ams a , \ ,
érixyv exer. Td S& dvopalopevov paxpov, éri rH} TapaBacet Bpaxd pedv-
Py to > > \ 100 a \ a > , 6 , ‘
piv ot, amvevoti adopevov. TH dé oTpopy ev KwAoLs Tpogaleiry, TO
, a a a
éripjnua, ev Terpapérpois emdyeTat. Kat THS avtirtpopov TH oTpody avtac-
, rr) a x a , ,
Geions, TO avreippynua teevTatov ov TIS mapaBacews, €oTl TeTpApeTpa,

> > , ‘ > ‘ Cv ners 4
ovk éAadtTw Tov apiOmov Tov emippnpatos.

NG te a A © ig
Ilept vroKxptrav 1) vroKpicews.

‘
Biot 5: dzo tovtwy Kat droxptral, Kal vroxptcts, KQL GVTiKpLols, KQL
c , wer a , , ca > a cn
vrokpivacOar Ta iap Peta, Suabérba, oxyparicacbar, pyow aoreivat, pyow
SvarepavacOat, elpar, ovveipar, arotadny, drvevori, vropxnoacOa, évdetEao-
/ Lal , /, “~ be »”

Oar, rapevdeiEacbar, vetoa, xAevacar, poppaca.. artxopvbety be €Acyov,
4 7A > a > , \ \ qn , ” ie ”
70 map €v iapPetov avTireyev. Kal TO Tpayy.a, atixopvbiav. Etro 0 ay,

, c ~ “~
Bapirovos izoxpitys, BopBav, rep.BopBav, Aynxrbilov, AapvyyiLov, papvy-
Lf ‘ , , \ , \ / x ,
yilov. Kai Bapvdwvos 8g, Kal Aertodwvos, Kat yuvatkopwvos, Kal OTPyVO-
\¢ »” ° a ‘ a ” > A Ss ‘ bé

dwvos, kat ooa adda ev Tots TEpl Pwvyns ELpyTaL. avalvyaoat de To Pleypa
» . tal \ i \ 3 , x
é\eyov, kal katamremvixOat To POeypa. Kat Apiotopavys tov Pct

pbeygar ov THY povnv dvagTouxyoas ave.
0 8 autos

ne , ,
Kat Pbéypa KEKparnKer.

A ¢ A
Tlept vroxpitwv oKevys.

K ‘ \ X e a « a rv , e iN aS ‘ UY

at oKeu) pev 9 TOV vroKpiTOV, OTOAn. 9 O GUTY Kal TwpaTLOV
> a , ‘ A ,
éxaeiro. okevorows Sé, 6 mpotwmorols. Kal eoTW Elev, TpPoTWTOY,

a ‘
TpOOwTeELoV, Tpoowris, poppLoAvKetov, yVopyovelov.

‘ ec , A ’ , ~ 7 a A ~ aA
Tlepi vrodnpatwv Kat eoOyntwv TPAYLKOV KAL KWpLLKOV Kat Norns oKEVIS.

/ ,
Kat ra vrodjpata, KdOopvor piv Ta Tpayika Kal epBades. euBarac

/ \ , A > A \ , , g ‘ - a
8é, Ta Kwpuxd. Kal ecOjres piv tpayixal, moixihov (ovTw ‘yap exadetTo

‘ ,

6 xutov) ta 8 ereBAjpata, Evotis, Barpaxis, xAavis, xAapvs duaxpucos,
, > , a,
xpvodmactos, pouikis, Tutpa, KadvrTpa araros, pitpa, aypyvov' To 8 av
cal A A , ™”
mhéypa e& épiov ductddes epi wav 76 copa, 6 Tepecis éreBadXero, 7

112

113

114

115

116

360 JULIUS POLLUX ON THE

xy , tel ‘ e
rls GAXos pavris. KoATMpa, 6 Urép Ta ToLkita evedédvvTo ot “ATpets, Kal ot
Nee A , A nN
"Ayapepvoves, Kal Oot ToLodTol. epamtis, TvoTpEMpaTLoY TL powVLKODY, 7
A A A A x A e \
toppupoiv, & wept THY xElpa €ixov of moAepovvTes, 7) Onpavtes. 0 de
, e , , \ tte! ) aA \ tal > -
117 kpoxwtds, twatiov: Avdvycos 8& aitd éxpyro, kal pacyadurripe avOwe,
\ , e we) , ” N \ a > rd €
Kat Oipow. ot dé ev dvoTvxiats ovTes 7) NevKAa Suomi Etxov, padtoTa ob
X ,
pvyddes, 7) paid, 7) pédava, 7} pydrwa, 7) yAavKuwa. paxia dé, PiroxTyTOU
,
9 oToAn Kal Tyréhov. Kal veBpides d¢, Kal SipO€par, Kal paxaipar, Kat
A A /, \ / ‘\ / ‘A / \ e7
oKyrrTpa, Kal Sopara, Kat Toga, Kal papérpa, Kal KypvKELa, Kal porrada,
fal a > a ,
118 kal Neovr7A, Kal mavrevyia, pépy TpayiKys avOpeias oKevns. ‘yovaikeias 8¢,
A fol lal , lal
cuptos topdupods, waparnxy evkov, THS Bacirevovons: THs dé ev oup-
los e X / aN \ be > (BX nN / BY aN e be
dopa, 0 pev auptos, péAas, TO de ériBAnpa, yAavKov, 7 pydwwov. 7 O€
A) 4 , 7 A a as A Sa A, \ a ,
Sarvpixy éoOys, veBpis, ayn, fv wat i~adyv éxadovv, kat tpayynv, Kat mou
‘\ tal ec U4 ‘\ \ , \ 4 \ \ >
Kal zapoady vpacpern. Kal to Oyjpavov to Avovvavaxov. Kal xAavis av-
6 , X A € / ‘ a x 8 , a e ‘
wy. Kat ourkootv twatiov, Kat xoptatos, xitov Sacvs, dv ot Yerdyvot
A \ ar) , 3 , ” \ \ , ” ‘
opovot. Kupixn b& eoOys, eEwpiss eote SE xiTOV AevKOS, Gonos, KATA
\ > \ \ e \ ? 4 ” , X ,

119 rv apiorepay wevpav padyv ovK exwv ayvartos. ‘yepovtwv d€ hopypa
e , , , x , e , , ,
iwariov, KaprvaAn, ouiKis, 7) meAapzropphupov iwarov, Popyya vewrEepwv.

, , , SN arras. , X ALANS S A 3 =
aypa, Baxtypia, dupbépa, ert Tv aypoikwv. Kat Toppupa dé écOATe éxpavTo
€ / e BS , lA xX a \ 5 , -
ot veavicxol, ot d€ wapacito, pedaivyn, 7 para, TARY ev ZuKvwvio, AevKy,

7 / a ec , fal be A 8 Xx. 3 As) oe (8 /
Ore péAde yapeiv o mapacutos. TH S€ Tav dSovrAwV eEwpids Kal twaridvoy TH
, NY / a 3 , B hé ne ek EL ToS be / 8 XH.
mpookeltat AevKov, 0 eyKopBupa éyerat, 7 exippynpa. To de payeipw, didn,
~ \ a“ c ~ Cal

dyvarros 7» eoOyjs. 7 8€ yuvatkav éoOns KopiKov, 7 fev TOV ypaov, pydALvy,

a > 4 \ e “A i? , la e XN , * ,

120} depivn, Av tepeav. tavrais b€é, AevKy. ai d€ pactporot, 7) pnTEpes
« lal in / a ‘ “~ ~ m” c X A
€raipov, Tawidiwy Te Toppupovv wept TH Kepadry €xovow. 7 d€ Tov

, , / ,
véwv, AevKy, 7) Bvocivy. erucdjpwv 4€, Aevky, KpotcwTyn. TopvoBocKot
dé, xurdve BarrG, kat avOwG repiBoraiw evdedvvrai, Kai paBdov evOetav
, ” A 7 ©. Te? a \ , ,
pépovow Gpeckos Kahetrar woe 4 paBdos. Tots b€ rapaciros mpoceote
nw > ,
Kal otAeyyis, Kal AnkvOos, ws Tots aypotKors AaywBorov. eviais dé yuvarkt
‘\ , \ / Lid s ‘ ‘ / c A #
KQL TAPATNXV, Kal TUMPETPLA, OTEP ETTL XITWV Troonpys, adoupyns KUKAw.

\ , s a \ ane,
Tlepu Geatpou KGL TWV TEPL AUTO.

121 > 4 ‘ \ s , > A , 5 . tal A Fa
2 Exel d€ Kai to Oéarpov ov piKpov pépos eoTL TOV [LOVTLKOY, avTO
‘ ey ¥ , \ \ , \ ass \ \
pev av etrous Oéatpov, Kat Avovvcaxov Béatpov, Kat Anvaixov. Kat To
tal , y” 7 > ’ A
m\Oos, Oeatds. Kai Apiotopavys S& cvvOearpiay eipykev. wot ov Bearnv
wy ,
povov eros av, GANA Kal Ocarpiav. Kara S€ TAdrwva, Kal Peatpoxpariav.
tors 8 avaBabpovs, Kai Babpa, kat eépas, Kat uAva. Kati Edwdialery, To
lal , col

ovyxabilev. mpdrov dé E’dov, 7 mpocdpia, paliota pev Suxaotav. ep
Gv Kat tov mpatov Kabilovra, tpwroBabpov Pepexparys <ipyKev 0 Kwpwdo-

p > ™ pov Pepexpdrys eipy ph
122 8i8doKxados. iows 8 av Kal éxt Oedrpov Kata Kataxpyow héyous. TO mevTOL
Ta €uA\ia Tals mrépvais KaTakpovew, wrEepvoKoTeiv eAeyov. emoiovv Oe

a“ e , \ / > a \ \ / \ \ , ~
TovTO, oTOTE TWA Exadorev. ef OV Kal TC KAWLELY, KaL TO GUpiTTELY. eKaXECTO

VOCABULARY OF THE DRAMA. 361

\ \ , a , ,
dé te kat Bovdevtixoy pépos Tod Oeatpov, Kat edyBrxov. eeote S€ Kat
\ ts ° , ~ © / > / > “A ‘
TO Taparéracpa, avraiav Kadetv, “Yrrepidov cixovros év TO Kata Iarpo-
/ tes be > / 4” e A > aA an é! , ,
KAéovs, “ot dé evvea apxyovtes eloTLdVTO ev TH Lrod, wepippacapevol TL Epos

. ~ 3 , 33
avuTns avAaia.

Tlept pepdv Oearpov.

/ \ / ‘ ’ ‘4 ,
Mépyn Oearpov dé mvdis, Kat Waris, Kal KataToun, Kepkloes, OKNVY,
> / A / e ,
Opxnotpa, oyeiov, TpooKHViov, TapacKyvia, VToTKYVIa. Kal oKNV) [EV,
ec A »” e X > , fol nw 3 e A e ; ”
Uroxpitav idiov. 1 S€ opxnoTpa, TOD xopov, ev yy Kal 7 Ovpedy, ete
lal IA. Ss »” , aN \ A tal \ > \ 4 \
Bypd zu ovca, etre Bopos. emt O& Tis TKNVAS Kai ayes Exetro Bwpos
\ A fal \ Pie / mm a \ > / A
apo tov Ovpav. Kat tparela, méupata eéxovoa, 7) Oewpis wvopalero, 7}
, > > > a \ e ?
Ouwpis. édeds 8 Fv tpdrela apxaia, ep jv mpd Oearidos cis tis avaBas
a“ A > A e >
Tois xXopevtais amexpivaro. TO d& VrocKyviov, Kloot, Kal ayadpariows ék-
, \ e A ‘ ~ A
exdopyro, mpos TO Oeatpov Tetpappevov, vo TO Noyelov KeElwevOY. TpLUOY
be ~ \ \ NS A e / / , a , nv
& tév Kata tTHV oKnvav Ovpdv y péon pév, Bactreov, 4 ornAaov, 7
fe A 5 x a ‘ A a 8 A e Se 8 , A
otxos éySofos, 7} mav TO mpwtaywvictotv Tod Spapatos. 1 dé dekud, Tov
A , e > ane | \ >
Sevtepaywvicrosvros Katayuytov. 4 5& apiorepd, 7} TO evteA€oTaTOV EXEL
mpoowrov, 7) tepov e& Wevov, % GolKOs é€oTW. év O€ dia ny pe
pe » 7 ep NPYPMPLEVOVs <7} OSV EOE a2 SEY CE TOC QOUL, Tag Pey
Seed Ovpa, ~evv éortw, cipxtyn Sé, 4 Aawd. TO dé KAioLov ev Kopwoé
pa, , elpkTn O€, 7 : ev Kopwoia
\ ld ,
TapaKetar Tapa THV oikiav, Tapametdomate SyAovpevov. Kat EoTL pev
\ e 4 XN e , > a , a ,
orabpos vrotuvyiwv. Kal at Ovpar avrod petlovs doxovot, Kaovpevat Ki-
, \ \ \ MS € / ’ / \ \ , 9 X
oiddes, mpos TO Kal Tas dpacas cicehavve, Kal Ta oKEevoddpa. ev OE
iN , aA s AE , , - \ a
vrupavous “AKeotpia. Kat épyactypiov yeyovevs dyot youv
‘
TO KXicLov
a , , ae a > > a \ ,
8 mporepov wot Hv Tots e& aypov Bovoi atabyos,
a ” ,
Kal TOis OVOLs, TEeTOLNKEY epyacTypLov.
2 e / ‘\ ” , Lad a ‘ \ , y ,
map ékatepa d& tav Sto Ouvpdv Tav Tepi THv péonv, adAat dvo
‘\ Ay , e
elev dv, pia éxatépwhev, mpos ds at mepiaxtor cupremyyacw. 1 pev
“ A c 3 > / A /
Seiad, ta ew morews SyAovca, 7 8 dpirrepa, ta ek moAews. pa-
,
Auta Ta eK Ayévos. Kat Oeods te Oadarriovs emdye, Kal ravl
o ° , Pa e \ , 25 A > Se ° ,
doa eraxOeorepa ovta 1 pynxavy pepew advvater. ci d€ eroTpEporev
e , € \ SN > , / > ld . , e ,
ai epiaxror, 4 Sefia pev apelBer torov: apdorepar d€ xwpav vrahdat-
An , 50 ¢ XN é Es > 14) A 3 \ , Ce ee)
Tovecl. TOV péevTOL Tapddwy 9 pev desia aypolev, 77 EK AtpEevos, 7 EK
, ” e She / ‘ > , \ \ emus, ae
modes aye of S& GAAaXdGev weCol adixvovpevol, KaTa THV ETEPAV ELOL-
> , be \ \ > / Seen \ ‘\ 8 \ Ny /
acw. eiaeAOovtes b€ Kata THV CApa aa amemnee a evTVAOte KAYLAKWV
A cal A = ?
avaBatvovor. ths dé KAiwaxos of Babpot, KAywaxtijpes KahovvTaL. Elev 8
an , \ / \ , 7 ,
av tov ék Gearpov Kat exKvKAnpa, Kal bnxXaVvT, Kal efwoTpa, Kal oKOTN,
lal , \ / ‘\ aA
Kal TEelxos, Kal mipyos, Kal PpuKTupiov, Kal OioTeyia, Kal KEpavvoTKOTELoY,
\ a \ a XN , \ . ial \ DYE ,
kat Bpovretov, Kal Peodoyetov, Kal YEepavos, Kal alwpat, Kat kaTtaBAnpata,
\ c , \ a“ \ ¢ , \ 4 ANd
Kal HpLKvKALOV, Kal OTpopEtov, Kal ypLoTpopiov, KaL XApwvLol KALMAKES,
> \ , ‘ , ¢ \ / i
kal dvamiécpara. Kal TO pev exxvkAqpa, exe Eviov, vyyAov Babpor, «

123

124

125

126

127

128

12)

130

131

133

362 JULIUS POLLUX ON THE

3 , / , ‘ . A e ‘ \ ‘ 5 “ 3s 7
érixeitat Opovos. deikvuct O€ Kal Ta vTO THY oKHVNV eV Tals OiKLaLs
> ‘ ‘ a na A a > =e
amoppyta mpaxOevra. Kal TO pyua TOU epyov Kadetrar éyKuKrelv. eh ov
‘ / / > / A ~ aA
d€ cicayerat TO exxvKAypa, eloK’KANLA OvomdleTaL. Kat xpy TOUT voEtoHaL
> Cees, , e / 2 eas, 2F c \ X \
kal éxdornv Oipav, otovel, Kal’ Exaorynv oikiay. 1 pnxavyn 5é Peovs
8 , woe N Py 7 B wh s ey af aA ‘ a
eikvuol, Kal ypwas Tovs év aept, BedAepodovtas, 7 Ilepoets, Kat Ketrar
\ \ > \ /, Lo \ \ Ni oe: a Cs: ‘ >
KATA THY apLoTepav Tapodov, UTep THY oKHVYAV TO Vos. 6 O éoTl év Tpayw-
dla } UTO € di 10n. Ondrov b€ oO ns é f .
1 PNXavy, TovTO ev Kwpwdia Kpady. OdyAov O€ OTL GUKHS EOTL piLNoLS
/ A A ~~ “~ 245, lA A x 3 / R, oS. an
Kpaonv yap tHv ovKnv Kadovow ot “Artixot. tyHv de eEdoTpav TavTOV TO
> , , ¢ Lor , , BY inleok
exxuxAnpate vouilovaw. 1 oKomn O€ TeTointat KaTacKOToLs, 7) Tots aAXoLS
ov ~ A n~ X c 4 > \ 7 ~ ‘
dg0l mpookoTOUGL. Kal TO TELXoS, Kal O TUPyoS, ws amo vous idetv. TO
\ , a“ Diy Ff a“ eh 4 < ‘ 4 ‘\ Xx °
d€ dpvxtwpiov TO ovopate SydAot To épyov. y S& Sioreyia, mote pev ev
/ ~ / oe > ,? 2 ,
oixw Bactreiw, duppes Swpariov, otov ad ov ev Powicoas 9 “Avtryovy
4 \ / X X / 23 43 X / A ,
Bréret tov otparov: more b€ Kepapos, ad ov kai PadAovot TO Kepapy.
, ee a s / , a oh
év 0& kwpwdia amd THs Sicteyias TopvoBocKol Ties KaTOTTEVOUAL, 7) ypaidia
A 4 4 a be ‘\ a \ / 3
) yovaia KataBdére. KepavvooKoretov dé Kat Bpovretov, To pev éore
e / . ~ ec XN ‘ A ” ”
repiaxros vWyAy TO O€ Bpovretov, VrO THY oKHVAV OTLTOEV, acKoL WHdov
” ‘ Ul ‘\ / > \ \ an s
eurrreot Swwykupevor pépovtat Kata xXaAKkwpdtwov. amo d€ Tov Geodoyetov,
” aS \ , 2 of > s / € € \ . € \
vTos vrep THY oKNVYV, ev Ve exipatvovTat Geot, ws o Zevs Kat ot zepi
c , / / / ,
avtov év Vuyortacia. 17 O€ yépavos pnxavyya Ti eoTW EK peTEwpov KaTa-
‘ >)? e a , e / Se: \ € / ‘ a
hepopevov, ef dprayh cwpatos, @ Kéxpytar » Hos apralovoa to capo.
a , 2:2 ie a 4 \ i a , > 7
tod Mépvovos. aiwpas 8 av eirous Tovs Kadws, ot KatypryvTar é& vous,
212 \ =X a a7 / 6 5 lol o x 6 / ,
avexew Tovs érl Tov aépos pépecGar SoxovvTas pws 7 Geovs. KataBAy-
, ec / A , > * ‘ ~ A “a 8 4
para o€, upacpara, 7} TivaKes NOaV, EXOVTES Ypadas, TH XpEta TOY dpapaTwY
4 / be Ben \ , ” 8 / a ,
mpoopopous: KateBaddero O& ext Tas TEpiaKTous, Opos detkvuvTa, 7) Oadarray,
x , a m” nw A ‘ ec , \ A aA »”
i) ToTapov, 7 GAXo Te ToLovTov. TH bE yytkvKNiy TO pev TYHA OVvopLa"
c ~ , \ \ > / c be ij 5 mn los fe \ a ,
n 0€ Oécis, Kata THY opxnoTpav: 7 SE XpEla, ONnAOUY Toppw TVA THS TOAEWS
4 Xv \ > / z 7 \ ‘ lal aA ‘
ToTov, 7} Tovs ev GaratTn VHXOpEVO’S, WOTEP KaL TO OTpOdeEtov, O TOUS
? ” \ > \ cal 6 / x» \ > \ , x X ,
ypws exer, Tovs eis TO Oetov peHeaTHKOTAs, 7] Tovs ev TeAayel, 7 ToAELH
a e X 4 , \ ‘ 2 “ ES rE 668
teXevTGvTas. at O€ yapwrviot KAiWaKEs, KATA Tas EK TMV EOwWAtwv KalodouS
/ ‘ »” 7s > cal > - ‘ be > { \ /
Kelpeval, TA €lowa am avTaV avareprovoL. Ta O€ avaTLETpaTA, TO MEV
fal A ‘ > ~ 4 “ ‘ A
coTw ev TH oKHVH, Os woTapov avehOeiv, 4 Te TOLoUTOY TpoTwToOY, TO de

= > > ,
Tept Tovs avaBabyovs, ap av avéBawov Epwves.

Tlepi TpoowmTwv TPAYLKOV.

\ \ »” , > , ,
"AAA piv Kal TpoTwra, TA pev TpayiKa ein av, Evpias avyp, Aevkos,
, / Carey 7 A > "4 > 4 , hp x
orapto7oAtos, peas avyp, avnp saves, avyp avOorepos. ovTor pev
c a / ‘\ ,
yepovres. “O de Evpias, tpeaButatos Tav yepovtwv, EvKOTATOS THY KOMnV.
fal ‘\ c ‘ /
Tpookelmevat TO Gykw al Tpixes. OyKos O€ €oTL TO UTEP TO TpoOTwToV

“~ nm A ,
avexov eis vWos, AaBdoedet TH cYnpatt. TO dE yEvelov, EV KPH KoUplas

& > / los i
134 éorly 6 Evpias, éryajxyns dv tas tapes. “O dé AcvKos avijp, mas pev

a cal MS , ,
€or ods, Boatpixous 8 exer rept TH KEpady, Kal TO yevecov TETHYOS,

VOCABULARY OF THE DRAMA. 363

‘ aA > A \ , ‘ a e x) D , ¢
Kal mpometets opis Kal mapaAevKov TO xpopua o be oyKos, pays. 6
‘\ / A ‘\ ‘\ ~ ~ , / / > A
ye pv oraptoro\uos Sydot pev THY TOV TwodLdY puaw, péas OE éoTL Kat
? € \ , EL 2 Cy ae N A na oo» ” > ‘
Umwxpos. 6 O€ péAas aVNp, amd pev THS xpolas exwv Tovvopa, ovdAos bE

\ \ A /

TO yévelov, Kal THV KOpHY, TpaX’s TO TpOTwToV, Kal péyas O OyKoS. 6
be é 46 > ‘ & 6 \ ” /, ol ud \ om” »”

é avOos avipp EavOovs exer Bootpvxous, Kal oyKov nTTw, Kal eaTLV EvXpoUS.
c m” 7 Ad cal ~
0 d& EavOdrepos, Ta piv GAAa Gpotos, Vrwxpos dE GAAov, Kat dndot vorotv-

\ / 4 a
Tas. To O€ VeavioKwY TpoTwTa, TayxpyoTos, ovAos, mapovAos, amaXos,
/ /, / > / / c ,
mwapos, Sevrepos mwapos, wxpds, Tapwxpos. Oo d& TayxpHOTOS, tperBV-
lal mu / tal
TaTos TOV veavioKwV, ayévEelos, EVxpoUus, pedawvopevos, Sagetat Kat péawvar

e , “ahs X i / RS, e / ~ »*

ai ztpixes. 6 d€ ovdos, EavOds, vrEpoyKos’ al Tpixes TO OyKwW TpooTe-

, A > \ \ e
myyacw, opis avarératat, Poovpos To eldos. 0 O€ mapovdos, tadXa
~ ~ lol /, c ec / ,

€oiks TO mpd avTov, paddov veavile. Oo de amaos, Boorprxors Eaves,
/ , tal a A c /, > TAN} e

Aevkdxpws, Paidpds, mpérwv Ged 7 KaAG. 6 SE Twvapds, OyKWdNS, VITOTE-

/ / a“ , aA ec va

Advos, Karndis, Svaru7s, EavOoxopys, SavOy_ Kopyn erixopdv. Oo de dev-
\ , cal / > / 7 ‘\ vs

TEpos TWapos ToTo’TW TOU TpoTEpoV ia XVOTEPOS, OTW Kal VvEapwreEpos.

ec be > A , > “ Ei x / c LE ,
6 d& wyxpds dpvyavds éote Tats capi, Kai epixopos, vr0gavGos, voou-
sy \ ’ e 20 7 a» ‘4 , c be / ‘

nS THV xXpoav, otos cldvAM, 7) TpavpaTia TpeTEW. O OE TapwXpOS Ta

XN yy e c , ) aA AY e ~ a 7, A 8 “~
pev adda otos 0 mayxpyotos: axpia O€, ws voootvTa, 7) Epavta dndovv.

\ A , / , > ,
7a pévto. tov Oepardovrov tpocwra, Sipbepias, opyvoTwywv, avacyos.

> / Yu \ lA
6 pev bihbepias, dyxov ovK éxwv, Tepikpavov EXEL, Kal TpLxas EKTEVITpEVaS
, \ Lal , ,
Nevkas, tpocwrov UrwXpOV TE KAL VTOAEVKOV, KAL MUKTIPA TPAXVV, ETLEKUVLOV
, > ‘ {3 a oe > XN \ \ , ,
petéwpov, opOadrpovs cxvOpwrovs. Umwxpos 0 €oTL Kal TO yeveLov TpoTrahat-
c ‘ , > , eee? € \ ” \ ,
Tepos. 0 6 ohyvoTwywv, axpalet, Kal oykov vindov exe Kal wAaTvV,
/ “! ial a 66 , > 6 , , > ,
KotAawvomevov ev TH Tepipopa: EavOos, Tpaxus, epvipos, TpeTwv ayycrw.
, >
6 S€ avao.pos, VrépoyKos, éavO0s, ex pécov avaréravtar at tpixes, ayé-
’ > Can SD \ 2 > rr \ be a ,
velos eT, vrépvlpos* Kal ovtos ayye\Ne. Ta O€ yuvatKoV TpoTwra
\ / *) > 59 ay > , ,
roku KaTd&Kopos, ypaduov éAevGepov, ypadvov oikeTiKov, peToKoupov, di-
a / > , / / re €
pOepitis, KaTdKopos WXpd, Tpoapatos, Kovpios TapHEvos. 1 pev Troha
, c ‘ ‘\ »” ¢ c / \ ‘\ Es ,
KataKojos vUmep tas aAAas THY TE YALKiav Kal THY aim, AEvKOKOpOS,
, \ »” Ld XN be / > al \ > ,
perpta TOV Oykov, Urwxpos' TaAar d€ Tapaxpwpos exadeiTo. TO & edev-
e re \ , ‘ ” ~
epov ypadiov, wrdéavOov tiv ToAudv, puKpov OyKov EXov, pPéexpL TOV
a c , c A 4 ‘\ be e ‘ u ,
kreddv at tpixes, Vropaiver ovudopav. TO € oiKeTLKOV ypaduoV, TeEpt-
> > ” » /
kpavov e€ dpvakiowy avtt dykov exe, Kal frodv €oTL Tas odpKas. TO
x / NS \ ” , , >
de olkerixoy peoKoupov, Kat Bpaxvs oyKos, xpoa AevKyn, TApwxpos, ov TATA
/ ec XN a , > / \ m” > »” ec +
moduv. 1 d& SipOepiris, vewrépa exeivys, Kal Gykov ovK exe. 7 O€
/ > /, UA ‘ , PD , A \ “ >
KaTaKojios oxpd, peAawa tHv Kopnv, BA€upa AvTnpov. TO SE Xpopa éK
Agee, © , > , c , ~ , \ o
TOO OVvopaTos. 1 O€ pLecdKOUPOS WXPA, OMola TH KaTaKOLw, TANVY OTA.
, / \ ™”
ék pécov Kéxaptat. 9 d& pecoKovpos mpordatos, THY fev KOUpaV EXEL
‘\ \ TA > \ > ,
KaTa THV TPO avTHs ovK exer O€ KaTA THY wWxpdTNTA. 7 OE KOvpYLOS
rs Siu Oe » a , , . , >
mapOévos avtt dyxou exer tpixdv Karedyypévov Sidkpicw. Kat Bpaxea ev
7 , ,
KUKAw Treptkexaprat Urwxpos 5é THY xpoav. 7 dé Erépa Kovpimos TaplEvos,

t aAAa opmot dy ns Svakpl t To ikio B VYWV, WS eK
TO. protws, wAnv THs StaKpioews Kal TOV KYKAM PocaoTpPLXWY, WS €

5 135

136

137

158

139

140

i41

143

144

145

146

364 JULIUS POLLUX ON THE

woAXod Svatvxobca. 7 dé Kdpy, veapov Tporwmov, olov av Aavais yEevorro
) Gddn radicxyn. Ta O€ éKoKeva Tpoocwra, “AKtatwy éotl Kepacopos, 7}
weds trddbs, 7) Odpvpis, Tov pev Exwv yAavkov opOadpov, Tov Se j€hava.
i) “Apyos rovopbadpos, 7 Tupd redudvy tas mapetas rapa LookXel.
rotro 8 vd THs pytpas SSypods wAnyats wérovOev. 7) Evirwy n
Xeipwvos, vradAarropéevn eis immov map Evpuridy. 7 “Axiddevs ert Ila-
TpokAw akoopos. 7 “Apupovn, 7} rotapos, 7) Opos, 7) Topye, 7 din, 7
Odvaros, } épwis, } AMWaca, 7) olotpos, 7} UBpis, } Kévravpos, 7) Turav,
7 Viyas, 7 "Ivd0s, 7 Tpirov. taxa dé Kal rods, Kat Tptapos, Kat TlevOus,
Kat Mosca, kal “Opa, kat Mifaxov vipdat, cai TWreddes, cat amarn,

\ / A A / > A n X a m” ss ,
Kal é0n, Kat OKVOS, Kal p§ovos. adda TatTa pev av €ln Kal KMpLKG.

,
Tlept rpocurwv Sarvpikov.
f

‘ ‘ , , , , A , Bint
Sarvpxa S€ zpocwra, Satvpos rows, Larvpos yeverov, Satvpos aye-

\ , ‘ > 4 ” \ , ‘ ¢ ;

vetos, Yeidknvos warmos. Ta 6 adda, Oomota Ta Tpogwra, TANV Ogos ex
~ > , e ‘\ “~ o ‘\ « , e 7
TOV Ovopatuv at Tapaddayai SydobvTal, WorEp Kal O TamTas 0 Zeyvos

tv ideav earl Onpwdéarepos.

\ , ~
Ilept tpocwrwv Kopikor.

‘ Q 4 , ‘\ A Lal n~ , e 4
Ta Sé Kwpika Tpogwra, TA pev THS TadaLds Kwpwoias, ws erUTOAD Tots
, e > Oo ~ 16 Ay aN \ rt , > ,
mpoouros Ov exmpwdovv aretkalero, 7 ewl TO yeAoLWTEpov eoxnMaTICTO.
Py , A , o « ,
Ta. d& THS veas, TarTOS TPWTOS, Tamms ETEPOS, NYELwV, TpeaBiTHS aKpo-
, a > ta ‘E , , 1K: BS ;
ruyov, emureiov, Eppwvecos, opnvorwyov, Avxopndios, ropvoBockds,
a 7 te ‘ , c ‘ lol
“Eppavios devtepos. ovTot pev yepovTes, O pev TpOTOs Tamros, pec Bv-
A , c , ‘ > A > +7 .
TATOS, EV XPO KOUpLas, NMEPWTATOS Tas Opps, EvyEevElos, i7XVOS Tas Tapetas,
, \ \ ~~ A , ‘\ /
TV owl katnpys, AEvKOS TO XpOLG, TO TpdTwWTOV, TO MEeTwWOV Uropatdpos.
c > o¢ , > 4 Nr -3 , \ , \ ,
6 8 €repos mamros, ioxvoTepos, Kal evrovwrepos TO BAr€upa, Kal AvrNpds,
ca aor 50 é > €/ c 8e c ‘ ,
irwxpos, evyevetos, Tupsobpis, wroKatagias. o O€ yyenov mperPBuTys
, cal A ‘\ ‘ »” ,
atepavyy tpixav rept THv Kearny Exe, éexiypuTos, tAaTUTpOTwToS, THY
> ‘ > / ‘ 8 € / e be , , ‘ > ,
Oppov dvatérarar tiv deLiav. 0 0€ mpecBuTNsS paKxpoTuywv Kal eruretwv
, a \ \ hn my > , a > / \ > > ,
otepavyay Tpixav mrept THY Kepadny EXE, EVTMYWV 0 ETI, Kai OUK avaTEeTaTaL
> lol ‘ ‘ \ ” ec ee , > >
Tas odpos, vwOpds de THv ow. o S€ “Eppwvios, avapadaytias, eiruywv,
> ‘ > A \ , , c ‘ ”
dvatérata tas opis, TO BAgupa Spysts. oO 8€ wopvoBooKds TaAX\a pev
» n A 5 , ‘ be - aX c , \ , \ > lol \
éouxe TO Avxopndcto, Ta O€ XELAN UTOTETHPE, Kal TvvayEL Tas Odps, Kat
> , a , c , e , >
avapadavtias éotiv, 7) padakpos. Oo dé devtepos “Eppoivios, ametvpyyeévos
> ‘ ‘ , e be ‘ ? , 3g Pe >
éort kai odnvoruywov. [o d& odnvorwywv, avadadaytias, oppts avare-
, > , c 5u « \ / ? ,
Tapevat, o€vyeveros, vrodvatporos.| 06 5& Avkopydetos, ovAcKopos, pa-
> , \ > , ,
Kpoyévetos, avareiver THY érépav oppiv, ToluTpaypoovvnv TapevoetkvuTac.
aA , , , >
ra 5& TOV veavioxwv, TayXpHTTOS veavioKos, peas veavioKos, ovdOS veari-

ec , ” eed , 9 iF , ,
aokos, a7raXos, AYPOLKOS, ETLOELOTOS, dedtepos ériceioctos, KoAaég, TAPACLTOS,

VOCABULARY OF THE DRAMA. 365

> , , c ‘ , e , 6 , c
€iKOVLKOS, SUKEALKOS. O PE BOUNOET OS: vmepvipos, a lad UTOKE-
el aad puridas oAtyas exwv ert TOU een, Kal oTEepavynVv TPLXOV;
Tavaerapévos Tas Opps. 0 Oe péAas veaviokos, vewrepos, Kabeevos TAS opps,
/ x 1 -
TETALOEUPLEVY, 7) piroyupvacty gouxus. 6 d& ovAOS veavioKkos, KaXds, Vvéos, 147
ral ” > a“ bd /
Kal Bye antaes TO ROSAS ai de TPKE KaTG. TOVVOLGA. Ops aVaTETATAl,
c ce \ , / ‘
kat putis él TOU perio pola paver. 6 d& amaXos veavioKos, TPLyas MEV
Kata TOV mdyxpyotov, mavTwy S€ vewrarTos, Aevkos, oKarpopias, amaNo-
THTA maehahsits TO Oe ayppiee TO pe Xpoya aes Ta 0€ xethy
matéa, Kal 4 pis op, kal i cae eas TO O€ erioeioTY, oTpaTwwTy
ove Kal aAatovl, Kat THY xpi peAave Kal THY xR erigelovTat at TPIXES,
worep Kal TO eer sep eTUTEloTO, daraXwrré pp OvTl, Kal avOG THV KOPN.
Koda O€, Kal wapaoros, peAaves, ov pay efw rae raps eiypuTol, 148
evrabels. TO 8é wapaciry ied KaTéaye TA OTA, Kat pardporepds
éoTw, samep 6 KoAaé avarérara Kaxonfear pws Tas odpis. o Oe
EikoviKos éxet ie evermappevas Tas ToNXuds, Kal seemed TO (aden
evrdpudos 8 éatt Kat Eévos. 6 b€ Suxedixds mapdowros earl a Ta.
d€ dovAwv TporwTe. KWPLLKG, TAaTTOS, 7 NYEHOVs Oeparuv, KAT TpPLXlas, y KaTw
retpixopevos, Oeparwv otdos, Oepdrwov Maicov, Geparuv reérrié, yEpov
A ,
ériceotos. 6 piv Tammos povos Tév Oepardvtwv Todwos éott, Kal dyAot 149
? / e ‘ e ‘ , , »” a“ sea > /
atedkevbepov. 0 d€ nyepov Oeparrwv oreipay EXEL TPLXwV TUPPWV, AVATETAKE
‘ > ~ , ~ “ , e > “
Tas opps, Tvvayer TO erLTKUVLOV, TOLOUTOS EV TOLS dovAots, otos €v TOLS
> , nd c , c ‘ , , xa , /
ehevdepors rpecBurns yyepov. o b€ KaTwW TpLXias 7) KATH TETPLXWPEVOS,
> ‘ > ~ c ‘ > ,
dvapadavrias éoti, Kat ruppoOpis, ernppevos Tas opps. 0 d€ ovAos Gepa-
“a ‘ re Les i ae , hd \ \ “A ‘ A
mov, Snot pev tas tpixas* €iot d€ Tuppal, woTep Kal TO XPWHa* Kal
2. ” c \ , ,
dvadadavrias éoti, kat duaotpopos tHv ow. oO d€ Oeparwv Maiowr, 150
, , , , , ,
garaxpds, muppos éorw. 6 S& Oeparwy rérrié, pédas, padaxpos, dua-
».\ q
atpodos Tv dw, dSvo0 7 tpia Boorpixia péAava ETLKELLEVOS, KL Opole
> “ , c \ / c \ ” ”~ c / /
ev TO yevelw. Oo be ericeioTos nyeuwv EOLKE TH NYELOVE Geparovrt,
yn ‘ \ , ‘ \ a / > ‘ x x i
aAyv epi tas tpixas. ta S€ yvvaikGv, ypadiov tsxvov 7 AvKaivov,
a a , > , a > , A see ‘ ‘ ,
ypats maxeia, ypadiov oikoupov, 7) oixeTiKov, 7) Of¥. TO pev AvKatvioy,
ew c a , ‘ , / AA 2 ‘
Urounkes. purides Neral, Kal wukvai: devkov, Urwxpov, atpeBAov To
» « \ a A , ec , Py > , ‘ ,
Oppa. O€ Taxeia ypais maxelas exer putidas év evoapKia, Kal Tawt- 151
8 ‘\ i. ON , ‘\ de , ‘ 10 , > c ,
lov Tas Tpixas TeptAapBavoy. TO dS€ oikovpov ypadLov, TYLOV, EV EKATEPG
“~ / > A , n
TH oiyove ava Svo exer youdious. véewy b& ywvatkdv mpdcwra, dexter),
™” , ,
ovAn, Kopyn, Wevdoxopy, érépa wWevdoxopyn, oraptoto\wos AextiKy, mad-
/ « ‘ , c / c “ ‘ e , e , ,
lov, €TaLpl wpat a. c -
akyn, €raipixov TeXeLov, ipidvov wpatov, Suaxpvoos éraipa, éraipa dia
LO 9 / / / c ‘ x
putpos, Aapmradiov, aBpa mepixovpos, Geparauwidiov wapayynotov. 7 pev 15
, , « a“ > /,
NexTiKy, WEpikopos, yovyy Tapeynwevar at tpixes, opHat odpves, xpoa
, c x »” al
Nevky. 1) SE ovAy, TH Tprxwoer Tapadrarre. 7 Se Kopy, Sidxpusw Exet
, “~ “~ ‘\ > ‘ > ~ ‘ , x ,
rapelnpevov TOV TpPLXGV, Kal opOas opps, Kai pedaivas, Kal evKo-
9 ~ / c
tyta Urwxpov év TH xpda. 1 S€ wWevdoxopy, AevKoTépa THY XpOaV, Kal
mept TO Bpéypa Sederar tas tpixas, Kal €ouxe veoya ) O€ €répa
Pp Peye S Tplxas, Lt €0L veoyapw. 1 p

LS)

366 JULIUS POLLUX ON THE VOCABULARY OF THE DRAMA.

153 } , 8 7 7 A 10 tA ~~ , e be =
53 Wevdokopy, SiwwywooKeTar povw TO adiakpitw THS KopNS. 7 O€ OTApTO
/ \ a“ A) Oe, \ 307 , erat 1 ,
oAuos Aextixyn Spot TH ovopate THV idéav, pyvder SE Eraipay wemavpevnv
al , e 8e X x / SS ” , oF > , \ be
Ths TéexVNS. 1 O€ TadaKyn TavTY PEV COLKE, TEpiKoMos 6 EoTIV. TO OE
, ce , a , > \ . / A /, +
rédevov Erarpikov, THs Wevdoxopys eotiv epvOpdtepov, Kai Bootpuxous Exel
‘ SS \ Nae / ? , / > 4 \ \
Tept Ta Gta. TO de Erapidiov akaAAwmiaTOV €oTL, Tawidio THY Kepadnv
: , € Oy / oar eats \ Sus Aa a
mepieagiypéevov. 7 S€ dudxpvoos Eraipa moAvv Exel Tov XpvTov ETL TI)
, « , /
154 kon. 7 S& Sudperpos Eraipa pitpa rouihy THV Kepadynv KarethyTTal.
\ n 4 / 24?
70 8& Naprddiy idéav tprxdv exer TA€ypatos eis Of) azroAjyovTos, ap
e \ /, c X\ Lid , AQ 7 5
ob Kal KékAyTar. 7 O€ aBpa Trepixoupos, OGepamrrawioiov €oTL TepLKEeKap-
, a , e tal , \ /
pévov, xiTGve povw vreLwopevy hevKG xpopevov. TO S€ TapayynoTov
tf) (d bad , \ , c / 7 “Ss A } > ’ c ,
eparraividuov, SuakeKpiTar Tas Tpixas, vTOTYLOV TE ETTL Kal OOvAELEL ETAL-

c an ~
pais, vrelwopevov xiTova KoKKaPady.

owed cra Bel I

ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

OF THE

GREEK DRAMATISTS.

—

- a
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> ¢- oe aes Se =
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Peet ee % ‘
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Pa
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Le FHA. ;
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Ganka eb lf

ASE aA,

ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

OF THE

GREEK DRAMATISTS.

I. LANGUAGE.

TTENTION has been already directed to the fact that the different
origin of the dialogue and chorus in a Greek play is indicated by a
corresponding difference of dialect, and that, while the dialogues repre-
sent the spoken language of the poet’s age and country, with some few
traditions derived from the Ionic of the rhapsodes, the choruses are more
or less tinged with the conventional Doric of lyric poetry. The basis,
however, of the whole dramatic style of the Greeks was the Attic dialect
of the period during which the great dramatists flourished ; and while we
have the older Attic in Auschylus, we find in Sophocles, Euripides, and
Aristophanes all the characteristics of the middle Attic of Thucydides,
and in the fragments of Menander and the other poets of the New
Comedy we have the language of Athens as it was spoken by Demos-
thenes or written by Aristotle. In briefly noticing the successive
changes of the tragic style, we shall begin with those Epic, Molic, and
Dorie peculiarities which are found in the dramatists, and then examine
the standard of their Atticism.

I. Epic Forms in the Dramatists.

Besides the common forms é€vos, povos, yovata, xopos, ddpt, Opakes,
Loy, the dramatists wrote éeivos, potvos, yotvara, Kotpos, Soupt, Opyxes, Co7.
We also find ovvopa (Soph. Phil. 251), cidioow, eivexa (New Cratylus, § 277),
civahuos (Eurip. Phen. 6), xaiw, kraiw, édaia (see Porson, Praf: Hee. p. 4,
Hermann, Pref. Ajac. p. 18), aierds, aie or aiey (Pors. Pray. Hee. p. 4,
and Herm. Pref. Hec. p. 21), ércopat, péocos, wodAds, by the side of the
Attic dvoma, éAicow, evexa, évadwos, Kaw, Kaw, éAda, aeTOS, del, Evomat,
péaos, woAvs. The dative plural in -ov or -cw is used whenever the

D.T.G. ; 24

370 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

metre requires it. Auschylus does not hesitate to substitute a for v in
the 3 pers. pl. of the optative middle, as in éxowloiaro for éxowlowro
(Pers. 449). We have also occasional Ionisms like vqds for vews (Asch.
Pers. 424), jpnv (Soph. Trach. 24), xewov (ibid. 495), xieus (Ausch. Chotph.
678), txwevos (Soph. Phil. 494), xovAedy (Soph. 4j. 730), 7AvOov (Eurip.
Electr. 593). The pronoun generally used as the article appears in the
oblique cases as a substitute for the relative (Asch. Agam. 628, 642;
Choéph. 596; Humen. 322, 878, 919; Suppl. 262, 301, 516, 579; Soph.
Phil. 1112; Gid. Col. 35; Bd. R. 1379), and in the demonstrative use we
have even rot 5é for of 8¢ (Asch. Pers. 424). The use of vw for avrov is
common enough, and we even find pv (Soph. Zach. 388). The reflexive
o¢é isa perfectly general pronoun of reference in Aischylus (e. g. it is=ad-
rov, Sept. c. Theb. 451; atrot, Suppl. 502; avras, Sept. c. Theb. 846). It
is extremely doubtful if opw can be used for ot. In Adsch. Pers. 759,
Soph. Gd. C. 1490, it may be understood as for ofiow. It is also an
open question whether such a form as éAeewvds is allowable in the Greek
dramatists (Pors. Pref. Hee. p. 7; Lobeck ad Soph. Aj. 421). The
rare forms jovxsrepos (Soph. Antig. 1089) and PiAioros (Soph. Aj, 842)
may perhaps be regarded as Tonic. Also kpudeds for xpvBeis (Aj. 1124).
There can be little doubt that an epic tradition suggested the occasional
omission of the augment in the speeches of the messengers (Matthii, 6.
Gr. § 160, Obs., see below, tv. 1). Uncontracted forms such as evpoos,
voos, péeOpov, are sometimes though very rarely found in the dramatists.
Valckenaer rejects the particle 95€ for cai (ad Phan. 1683), but it occurs
more than ten times in Auschylus, in two fragments of Sophocles (345,
493, Dind.), and in Euripides, Hee. 323, Here. Fur. 30.

Il. olic Forms in the Dramatists.

The most common A®olism is the substitution of weda for pera in
compounds, such as redapavos, reddopos, Tedatxp.L0s, and this occurs even
in dialogue (Ausch. Prom. 711; Choéph. 843; see Valcken. ad Lurip.
Pheniss. 1034). We have also pacowy (Aasch. Pers. 432, 694; Agam.
584), yAioowv (Aristoph. ap. tym. M. p. 235), and similar forms, if —
these are to be regarded as olisms. A more decided instaneée is sup-

plied by épaviav, which the metre requires in the Suppl. 788; ef. Alceeus :
Be pe 6 Leis, ex 8 dpavd péyas xepov. And see Buttmann, Lewil.
p. 200, Engl. Tr.

Ill. Dorie Forms in the Dramatists.

In the choruses, for the reasons already given, a certain amount of
Dorism is invariably found, such as the substitution of a for 7», @g.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 371
veotas for vedrns, patrnp for pytnp, watpwiray for rarpiityy, didvpav for
dudvpnv; also vypdav for vyppawrv, vyppav, BapvBpepera for BapuBpepérao,
BapvBpenérov, and the like.

In the dialogue we have ’A@ava, dapds, Exatt, kapavov, apape, yapopos,
yarroros, yabotoa, éxaBoXos, Kvvayos, troda-yos, Aoxayos, Evvayds, o7rades (Pors.
ad Orest. 26; Valcken. ad Pheniss. 11, 1113; Hippol. 1092, &e.), dpape
(Pors. ad Orest. 1323; Valcken. ad Hippol. 1090). Some Doric forms
peculiar to Alschylus have been ascribed to his familiarity with the
dialect of Sicily (above, p. 97).

IV. The Attic Dialect of the Tragedians, and Aristophanes.

(1) As a general rule the augment is always prefixed in the indefi-
nite tenses of the indicative mood in the dialogue of Tragedy (vide
Porson, Pref. Hee. p. iv, cf. Wellauer ad dZsch. Pers. 302). There are
some few exceptions, as in the case of ypqv, dvwya, KabeCopnv, xabjnpny,
&e. (Pors. Suppl. Pref. Hec. p. xvi). When the verb begins with the
diphthong ev- the temporal augment is rarely expressed; thus etpov and
evpyka are more common than yipoy, yipnxa (see Donaldson, Gr. Gr.
p. 196, note). We have both etxaca and 7xaca, and the forms eikafov,
efexaopeva, &e. are supported by the best authorities. We have also
both dvyAwoa and avadwoa (cf. Valeken. ad Phen. p. 222; Hermann,
ad Soph, Aj. 1049). It has been suggested by Matthia (§ 160, Obs.) that
the occasional omission of the augment in long speeches by the mes-
sengers may be explained by the narrative and epic character of these
descriptions, but even here it is limited to the beginning of a line or of
a new sentence; and Hermann (Pref. Bacch. pp. i —1v) has given the
following special rules for the cases in which the augment may be
omitted :

“Prima est: verbum fortius, in quo augmenti accessio anapestum
facit, in principio versus positum, addi augmentum postulat :

eyevovro Anda @eoriads tpeis tapHévon

“Secunda: verbum fortius, in quo augmenti accessio non facit ana-

pestum, in principio versus positum, carere potest augmento;
aiynoe 8 aifyp
Krimnoe piv Leds xOovcos*
maiovt, €Opavov"
aimtov O éx addyAouw.

“Tertia: ejusdemmodi verbum, si incipit sententiam,.videtur etiam
in medio yersu carere augmento posse: quale foret illud, ea, qua, supra
dictum est, conditione ;

f 24—2

372 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

yupvotvto dé
aevpai oraparyj.ots.

“Quarta: verbum minus forte, sive facit augmenti accessio anapes-
tum, sive non facit, in principio versus positum, si ultra primum pedem
porrigitur, caret augmento: yodro- Ouwiéer.

“Quinta: ejusdemmodi verbum si non ultra primum pedem porrigi-
tur, ut detracto augmento parum numerosum, aut vitatur, ut aves, aut
cum alia forma commutatur, ut caer cum Kadet.”

There can be no doubt that the omission of the augment in the
choruses is an incident of the dialect in which they are supposed to be
written (see Monk ad Alcest. 599). On the augment in general, see
Donaldson’s Greek Grammar, pp. 194, 201, 248.

(2) The more genuine forms in -oo, as tpacow, éhacowr, are pre-
ferred to the later forms in -r7, as mpdttw, édarrwv, though the more
recent form is occasionally found; thus we have zparrw (Soph. Ant. 564),
ékartov (Soph. Electr. 998), kpeirrwy (ibid. 1465), yrrwv (Eur. Hee. 274)
(see Valcken. ad Eurip. Phan. 406, 1388).

(3) Similarly, dponv and 6apo are preferred to the later assimila-
tions appyv and Oappa (see Porson ad Lurip. Hec. 8; Pheen. 54).

(4) The second person singular of the pres. and fut. indic. middle
or passive is generally contracted from -eat into -e in the older Attic,
and this form is invariably found in the fut. dye, and in the pres. BovAc
and ote, which are thus distinguished from the subj. BovAy and of;
the form -e is also to be preferred in Aristophanes; but -y is most
common in the MSS. of the tragedians (Donaldson, Gr. Gr. p. 253).

(5) In the past tense of otda, the forms dev, nders, Hdee or poe are
more common in the tragedians than 74y, 73yns or ndnoba. The dual
and plural are jotov, noryny, 7oepev Or Roper, Hote, Hoecav or Roav. The
perfect éovka makes in the plur. €ovypev and cigacr.

(6) Porson remarks (ad Med. 744) that the tragedians never sub-
stitute the verb in -vw for that in -vyy., and that this change very rarely
occurs in the Old Comedy. He also denies (ad Orest. 141) that the
dramatic style admits of such forms as riHets, Evveets, ke. for réOys, Evvins,
&c. But in order to sustain this rule it is necessary to alter the text in
several passages (see Buttmann, Ausfihrl, Gr. Spr. p. 523; Matth. 6.
Gr. § 201, 1, note; cf. § 212, 7).

(7) In the imperf. of the substantive verb, the tragedians used to
write 7, 700a, iv (Cobet, Novee Lectiones, p. 187).

(8) The forms KAys, KA7Opov, kAyw, &e. are more common in the
dramatists than xAeds, kAetGpov, kAetw, &c. Similarly, nouns in -evs, as

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. Sia

Baowre’s, trrevs, form their nom. pl. in 7s, as BagwAijs, trmjs. The
accus. pl. of these nouns ends in -éas, but we have tovs re durcdpxas
ddéocas Bacireis in Soph. Aj. 383, and it seems not improbable that we
ought to restore Govets for Poveas in Aisch. Ag. 1296.

(9) The following is the declension of vais in the dramatists:

Sing. Fi.

N. V. vais VaEs, VES

‘ i , lal a“ -~
G. VaOS, VNOS, VEWS VaOV, VN@V, VEaV

ft , fal
D val, vt Vavot

cal “~ , ”~ ~
A vavv, va, ved vas, véas, vats

(10) In the second declension we have often -ews for -aos, as in
vews for vads, iAews for iAaos, MevéAcws for Mevédaos, &c.

(11) Both zdéos and 7Agws are common in the dramatists.

(12) The gen. pl. of yévu is not only yovatwy or youvatwv, but also
yotvev; Sdpv has gen. sing. dopds, dat. Sopi, Ion. Soupé; xetp has both
xetpos and xepos, Xe.

(13) The proper names ’A70\Awv and ”Apys have the following pe-
culiarities of inflexion: "A7éAXwy, ace. "A7éAAwva and ’Ard\Aw; “Apys,
gen. "Apeos, dat. "Ape, accus. “Apnv and "Apy.

(14) There are many passages in Sophocles where dvo is required
by an elision or the necessity for a short syllable; none, excepting about
four, where the word occurs at the end of a line, in which the form dvw
would be admissible. The form Svoiv, on the other hand, seems prefer-
able to dveiv.

(15) In the pronouns we have xeivos as well as éketvos; ocfev as
well as cov; and drov, dtw, drous are preferred to obtwos, grit, oloTio.

(16) In the verbs the genuine forms of the imperative plural are
retained; thus we have 8puvrwv instead of dpdtwcay, émyaipovror instead
of émyapérwoay, apapeicOwv instead of adapelcOwcay, turtécGwv in-

stead of rutrécbwaar, Ke.

(17) Verbs of which the future ends in -dow, -erw, -cw, -o7w drop
the o and contract the resulting syllables. Thus we have oxed0, xado,
olkrtd, dpotdpar, for cxeddcw, Katéow, oixticw, opocopat But this con-
traction does not take place when the syllable preceding the -dcw, -eow,
&e. is long by nature or position. Thus we never adopt this contracted

¢
form for dripiow, dpxécw, aiverw, Ke.

(18) The genuine forms of the reduplication are preserved in ycyvo-
par and yyvwéoxw, and there seems to be no sufficient reason for ever

374 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

substituting the later yivowor and yweoxw in the texts of the dra-
matists.

(19) Verbals in -ros retain or omit the o between the root and ter-
mination, according to the caprice of the poet: thus we have adajaros in
Soph. Gd. 7. 205, 1315, but adapacros in Aj. 445, seemingly from the
exigencies of the metre in the former cases. There is a distinction of
meaning in yvwords, “intelligible,” and yvwrds, “known;” but we have
ayvocros, akavotos, evyvwoTos, axdpertos, TayKkAavoTos Without any dif-
ference of signification by the side of dyvwros, axavtos, evyvwtos, aKope-
Tos, mayk\avtos, Which are also supported by MS. authority. Some of
these verbals, as peymtds, TioTOs, Urorros, are used with an active as
well as a passive signification (see Porson ad Hee. 1117).

(20) Both dvvw and aww are found in the dramatists, the former
more frequently, though Porson prefers the latter (ad Phen. 463, Hee.
1157, ef. Hermann ad Soph. Electr. 1443).

(21) In the particles we may notice the forms évv for ovv, és for «is,
éow for elow, évi for év, azai, dat, drat for azo, dia, ve, as occurring
either regularly or occasionally in the dramatists. We have «iv “Aidov
ddpors in Soph. Antig. 1226, and eivaAros, ib. 346. For évravOot, which
is sometimes found in the text, we should read évredOev or évravbi (see
New Cratylus, § 139); and when ovvexa appears as a preposition, it
should be changed into civexa (V. Crat, § 277). For atéis we have both
atris and adre. It is doubtful whether péxpis occurs in Greek Tragedy
(see the commentators on Soph. 47. 568).

22) Porson lays it down that the tragic writers preferred €x@aipw
to €xOpaivw and ioyxaive to icyvaivw (ad Orest. 292; Med. 555); but the
MSS. sometimes give such forms as éyOpave? (Soph. Antig. 93), éx@pavréos
(Aj. 664), icxvaivw (Alsch. Prom. 269, 380; Hum. 267, &e.). It is also
proposed to substitute zvevpwv for wAevpwv in those passages in which
the MSS. give the latter (Pors. ad Eur. Orest. 271); xvaértw is con-
sidered more Attic than yvarrw, though the MSS. vary (see commen-
tators on Soph. Aj. 1010); and though puxpos is sometimes required by
the metre, there can be no doubt that opixpds is much more common in
the dramatists (see Hermann ad Soph. Electr. 1113; Elmsley ad Eur.
Med. 361).

(23) Compound adjectives in -os are generally of two genders only,
and the same is frequently the case with adjectives in -tuos; but if there
is any possibility of a doubt as to the gender, the feminine inflexion is
used; thus we have dAxiwa Geos when a goddess is intended (Soph, A).
395); but it would have been aAxijos Gea. Adjectives in -ds, -ados, are

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 57d

properly feminine only; but they are used even with neuter nouns, as
pavuicw AvToHpacr, Spopdor Brepapos (see Pors. ad Orest. 264).

(24) The -c of the dative must not be elided in dramatic poetry (see
Lobeck ad Soph. Aj. 802, p. 350, ed. 2). The same rule applies to ré,

ort, and zrepi.

(25) The elision of -e in a verbal termination before the particle av
is extremely rare (Elmsley ad Lurip. Med. 416).

(26) Diphthongs are not elided, but form a crasis with the following
vowel ; except ol’ ws for olpor os.

(27) The following are the most usual crases in Attic Greek poetry ;

(a) Crasis of the Article.

0 +a=d, aS 6 avyp=aryp, To Addo =Taddo, Td apyipLov = tapyvptov.
o+e€=ov, as 0 €=ovF, 0 emiPovdcvwy = orm Bovrleiwv, Td evtEepov = Tovv-
TEpov.
o+n=7, aS TO HyLov = Onuior (Arist. Lys. 115).
o+t=ol, as TO twatiov = Goipariov (which is the only example of this
crasis). ,
\ oo” »
O0+0O=0vU, aS TO OVO"A = TOVVOLA.
o+v=v, as Td vdwp = Ovdup (Crates ap. Meinek. 11. 238).
NT fe > ‘ ¥, +
o+at=at, as TO aipa=Oaiya, To altiov = Taito.
o+av=av, as ¢ attos=avtds, TO avto = TavTd.
0+ 0l=, as 0 otlupds = wlupos.
- ~ a > ~
n+a=G, aS W dpety=apetH, TH apeTn =TapeTH.
Cynse oF ee Le ay ak fe eee P ote TY tem Tes Fe
9 (or n) +€=%, aS H evn =nyy, 7 evoéBea = pioeBea, TH eu =THA-
ov+a=a, as Tod avdpds=Tavdpds, TOU avTov=TavTov, Tod "Ayapéuvovos
= TUYA/LELVOVOS.
ov + € (or o or v)=ov, as Tod e“od=Tovpod, Tov exeiDev = TovKebev, Tod
ovetdous = Tovveidous, TOD Vdatos = Govdaros (but some read Oidaros,
see Arist. Lys. 370).
ov +=, as TOD nAlov = OyXiov.
ov +ov=ov, aS TOD ovpavod = Tovpavod.
w+a=a, AS TO GvaxTe=TavaKTt.
w+e (or 0)=, as TO GuG=TULG, TO ovelpw=Tuvelpy.
a e , > ,
WOFL=OM, AS TW L[MATLO = Oopativ.
eo” ¢ e >? , e , e > , © ,
au OF ol+a=a, as ot avdpes=avdpes, at apetai=aperatl, ot avtol = avroi.
ol t+€=ov, as ot enol=ovpol, of ev=ovv.
al+e=at, as ai éxxAnotar=aixkAnola,
a+a (or € or at)=a, as ta aXa=TaAXa, ta alta =TavTa, TA EK=TUK,

376 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

but ra aicypd = taicypa, for which some read racxpa (Eurip. Z’road. 384;
Hippol. 505).

a+o (or » or o or ov)=0, as Ta drAA=Odrra, Ta Hpvea = Twpvea, TA
oilupa =tulupa, Ta ovpavia=Twpavia, 70 oikidvov = TwKidLOV.

The crasis of the article with érepos exhibits the following forms :

Sing. drepos, atépa, Oatepov, Oarépov, Oarépw, Oarépa.

Plur. drepot, adrepar, Garepa.

(b) Crasis of Kad.

Before a, at, av, €, €v, t, 9, Ot, ov, v, w, the crasis of xai is formed by
striking out a; as xayabos, xaicxivyn, Kavtos, Kelis, Kevdus, xixerevere,
xiAews, x7, xoi, Kov, xVdaTos, xUTép, or. But xat etra= xara.
Kai+€=Kku OY xa, as Kal érL=KaTL, Kal ETEpos = XATEpOS.

Kai +o=Kw (or xw), as Kal of0 = Kod, Kal dca= xwo0, Kal 0=xXo, kat
doris = xworts ; but this crasis does not take place with the simple
relative ds.

(c) In other words the crasis is generally regulated by the forms
given under the crasis of the article; thus we have ag éyo=aéia "yo,
® avOpure = GvOpwre, ayopa ev =ayopa 'v, eyo olda = éy@da, eyo olpar=
éyGpat, Tor dpa= rapa, To Gv=Tav, pot EoTL=povort, TepwYopat amedOov-
Ta. =7repiowoparedOdvra (Aristoph. Ran. 509), d eepad = ovsepa, SyEopar
dpa =Sy£opapapa (Acharn. 325), ei emiragoperOa = ei “riragdpecba, “Eppa
te “Eppa eons pov adédns = waders (Soph. Phil. ney pakpov
aTroTavow = paKkpov ‘oTavcu.

(28) Synizesis, which is incipient contraction or crasis, and pro-
duces the effect of one of these without representing it to the eye, occurs
cither in the same word or between two words. ,

(a) In the same word, as in

ea pronounced ya in ¢oveas, ke.

COgdurecl cine yo ... Oeoi, &e.
EW) ccaccccencce, YO vee MOACWS, WC.
Voy ats Meee wo ... dvoiv, &e.

(b) Between two words, as in # ov, pa) ov, eet ov, py cidevas, 7}
ciddrws, eye cit, eyo ov, irrw “Hpaxdjjs, & Evpiriy, in which the effect
is that of an improper crasis.

(29) There are a few instances of arbitrary amoxomy in the Greek
dramatists; thus we have rad for wate (Arist. Lgu. 821), diaw for diawe
(Asch. Pers. 1083), a for dua (Arist. Vesp. 570).

(30) The syntax of the dramatists is that of the best Attic writers,
and must be learned in extenso from a good Greek grammar.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 377

II. TRAGIC AND COMIC METRES".

The principal verses of a regular kind are Iambic, Trochaic, and
Anapestic.

The scansion in all of them is by dipodias or sets of two feet.
Each set is called a Metre.

The structure of verse is such a division of each line by the words
composing it as forms a movement most agreeable to the ear.

The metrical ictus, occurring twice in each dipodia, seems to have
struck the ear in pairs, being more strongly marked in the one place
than in the other. Accordingly, each pair was once marked by the per-
cussion of the musician’s foot. Pede ter percusso is Horace’s phrase
when speaking of what is called Iambic Trimeter.

Those syllables which have the metrical ictus are said also to be in
arsi, and those which have it not, in thesi, from the terms apovs and
Géous: the latter is sometimes called the debilis posttio.

I. The Tragic Trimeter.

1. The Iambic Trimeter Acatalectic (i.e. consisting of three entire
metres), as used by the tragic writers, may have in every place an Iambus,
or, as equivalent, a Tribrach in every place but the last; in the odd places,
Ist, 3rd, and 5th, it may have a Spondee, or, as equivalent, in the lst
and 3rd a Dactyl, in the first only it may have an Anapest.

This initial Anapest of the Trimeter is hardly perceptible in: its
effect on the verse: in the short Anacreontic,

Mecovuktiows tof’ wpais
Srpéderar or "Apxros 75n, k.7-A.

it evidently produces a livelier movement.

A Table of the Tragic Trimeter.

I 2 3 4 5 6
cP, —- Vv— i= seo Vi ry rie
NAAN | SIN NP VUY VEY VUYL
—UY —UY
vu

1 [This account of the ordinary metres of the Greek drama was drawn up in 1827
by the late Rev. James Tate, for many years the earnest and successful master of
Richmond School, Yorkshire. If the student desires to see my views on the subject,
together with all that I have to say respecting the choral metres of the Greeks, I can
only refer him to the Sixth Part of my Greek Grammar.—J. W. D.)

378 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

Verses containing pure Iambi (a), Tribrachs in Ist, 2nd, 3rd, 4th,
and 5th places (0, ¢, d, e, f), Spondees in Ist, 3rd, and 5th (g), Dactyls
in lst and 3rd (h, 7), Anapest in Ist (j), are given by Gaisford in his
Hepheestion, p. 241, or may be read in the following lines of the Hdipus
Rex:

tl. 8. 6 maou KXewos Oidizrovs Kahovpevos.
°b. 112. worepa & & oikgts 7) °v aypots o Aaios.

c. 26. dbivoloa 8 ayédas Bovvopous, TOKOLOL TE.
d. 568. mas ovv 760 obtos 6 coos ovK nuda TaAd€ ;
e. 826. pntpos luyjvat, Kal TATEPA KATAKTAVELY.

f. 1496. ri ydp Kaxdv dreoti; Tov Tarépa maryp.
gee ot: "Adys | crevaypots Kal yoows mAoutilerau.

h. 270. par dporov avirots yav aviévar twa.

i. 257. dvdpos y apictov Bacidéws 7 odwdAOTOS.

j. 18. tepps: eyd pev Zyvos: olde T HOEwv...

2. The last syllable in each verse appears to be indifferently short or
long: and even where one line ends with a short vowel, a vowel is often
found at the beginning of the next, as in Hd. R. vv. 2, 3; 6,7; 7, 8.

Sometimes, however, one verse with its final vowel elided passes by
scansion into the next, as Wd. Col. vv. 1164-5.

Sol daciv avrov és Adyous eAOetv podovT
Aireiv, awehOetv 7 aaodadds ths devp’ odod.

The case is thus restricted by Porson ad Med. 510: Vocalis in fine
versus elidi non potest, nisi syllaba longa precedat. (On this curious
subject, consult Hermann’s Llementa Doctrine Metrice, Lips. 1816,
Glasg. 1817, p. 36=22, 3.)

3. Besides the initial Anapest (restricted, however, as below’) in
common words, in certain proper names, which could not else be intro-
duced, the Anapest is admitted also into the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th
places of the verse.

(2nd.) Iph. A. 416. qv “Ipuyéveray avopates ev dopors.

(3rd.) Gd, Col. 1317. réraprov “Inropédovr’ aréoreXev raryp.

(4th.) Gd. Rk. 285. pddvora PoiBw Teperiav, zap’ ob ts av.

(Sth.) Antig. 11. not pev ovdeis piOos, “Avreyovyn, pirov.

1 This Anapest in the tragic is generally included in the same word; except where
the line begins either with an article or with a preposition followed immediately by its
case, Monk, Mus, Crit. 1. p. 63.

Philoct. 754. Tov toov xpévov...
Orest. 888. émi rGbe 5 iydpevov...
Iph, A. 646. map’ euolee

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 379

In all these the two short syllables of the Anapest are inclosed
betwixt two longs in the same word, and show the strongest as well as
the most frequent case for the admission of such a licence. (The nature
of this licence will be considered in a note (C) ch. xvi. on the admission
of Anapests into the Tambic verse of Comedy.)

In the few instances where the proper name begins with an Ana-
pest, as MevéAaos, Ipidpov, &e., those names might easily, by a different
position, come into the verse like other words similarly constituted.
Elmsley, in his celebrated critique on Porson’s Hecuba, ed. 1808, con-
siders all such cases as corrupt. (Vid. Edinburgh Review, Vol. xx.
p. 69.) Porson’s judgment seems to lean the other way. At all events,
the whole Anapest must be contained in the same word. (Vide Hecub.
Porsoni, London, 1808, p. xxiii=p. 18; Zuripid. Porson a Scholetield,
Cantabr. 1826. To these editions only any references hereafter will be

regularly made.)

Il. Zhe Comic Trimeter,
besides the initial Anapest which it takes with less restriction, admits
the Anapest of common words in all the other places but the last: it
admits also the Dactyl in 5th.

Vesp. 979. xardBa, xaréBa, | xataBa, xataBa, | KatraByoopat.

Plut. 55, rvOoipe? av | rov xpyopov 7\pav ore voet.

In the resolved or trisyllabic feet one limitation obtains: the concur-
rence of —UvY or UYY and UY— in that order never takes place.
The necessity for this will hereafter be seen, note (A), ch. xv.

A Table of Scansion for the Trimeter, both Tragic and Comic.

I 2 3 4 5 6
NFL ate Pam et A NCA gem oS Ore,
VYUY Wwuy VwuUvY CASAS) VYuUY
—UVY —UY
VWs=—
Proprii wu VU UU uu— Nominis.
Apud —vv Comicos.
VWue— 1 YVVUrKr UU Vu

Ill. The Structure of the Lambie Trimeter
is decidedly Trochaie.

1. The two principal divisions of this verse, which give the Trochaic
movement to the ear, and continue it more or less to the close, take

380 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

place after two feet and a half (M), or after three feet and a half (N),
with the technical name of Ceswra. One or other of these divisions
may be considered as generally necessary to the just constitution of the
verse, the form M however being more frequent than the form N, nearly
as four to one:

(M) Gd. R. 2. rivas ro pas | tacde por OoaLere,

(N) ——— 3. ixryptious xdadourw | eeoreppevor ;

The four cases of the Ceesura (M), and the eight cases of the Cesura

(N), as exemplified by Porson, are given below from the Suppl. ad
Prefat. pp. Xxvi, xxvii=21, 22".

2. The two minor divisions, which give or continue the Trochaic
movement, frequently occur after the first foot and a half (LL) of the
verse, and before the last foot and a half (R), called the final Cretic
Ghee,

(L) Gd. R. 120. 10 rotov; | &v yap woAN av eevpor pabety,
(R) —

The former of these divisions (L), though not necessary, is always
agreeable. The latter (R) requiring U— and rejecting —— in doth, takes
place not only in such a simple structure of words as that above given,
but under circumstances more complex, which will be explained in note
(B), ch. xvr., on the Cretic termination. This delicacy of structure was
discovered by Porson, who gave the name of pausa to it, p. xxxii=27.

121. dpynv Bpaxeiay <i AdBorpev | eAridos.

1 Nunc de Cesuris videamus. Senarius, ut notum est, duas precipuas cesuras
habet, penthemimerim, et hephthemimerim, id est, alteram quam voco 4, qui tertium
pedem, alteram, que quartum dividat. Prioris cwsure quatuor sunt genera: primum
est quod in brevi syllaba fit; secundum, quod in brevi post elisionem; tertiam in
longa, quartum in longa post elisionem.

Hee. 5. (A a) Kiviuvos toxe | Sopt receiv ‘EXAnrik@.
11. (A b) Harip w’ et ror’ | "IXiov relxn wéoo.
2. (Ac) Acroy tv’ “Acéns | xwpls Gxicrar Pedy.
42. (Ad) Kat revéerae Todd’ | 006’ ddwpnros pitwy.
Alterius czesuree, quam voco B, plura sunt genera.

Primum, cum in fine disyllabi vel byperdisyllabi occurrit sine elisione; secundum,
post elisionem; tertium, cum brevis syllaba est enclitica vox; quartum, cum non est
enclitica, sed talis que sententiam inchoare nequeat; quintum, cum vox ista ad pre-
cedentia quidem refertur, potest vero inchoare sententiam; sextum, cum syllaba brevis
post elisionem fit. Duo alia cwsure hujus genera ceteris minus jucunda sunt, ubi
sensus post tertium pedem suspenditur, et post distinctionem sequitur vox mono-
syllaba, vel sine elisione, vel per elisionem facta.

Hee. 1. (Ba) "Hxw vexpdv xevOudva | cal oxbrov rodas.

—— 248. (Bb) Ilo\Gy byw cipjuad’ | Gore uh Oaveiv.

266. (Bc) Keivn yap ®recev vw | els Tpolav 7’ dye.

319. (Bd) TépBov 5é Bovdroluny dy | dktovpevor.

Soph. Zl. 530. (Be) ’Exel rarnp otros ods | dv Opnvets ael.

Phil. 1304. (Bf) "ANN ovr’ enol Kaddv 765’ | early ovre col.
ZEsch. Theb. 1055. (Bg) ’AXN’ bv modes oruyel, od | Timjoes TApy;
Soph. El. 1038. (Bh) "Orav yap eb ppovgs 767 | iryjoe od ver.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 381

4. When the line is divided in medio versu with the elision of a
short vowel in the same word, or in the little words added to it, such
as 5¢, pé, o¢, yé, Té, that division is called by Porson the quasi-cwsura,
p- XXvii=22.

Gd. R. 779. dvnp yap ev detrvos p? | vreprAnobels peOns.

Heeub. 355. yovaéi rapbévois + | amoBderros pera.

Aj. Fl. 435. ra mpdta xadNore | apioteiocas orparov.

Heeub. 387. xevretre, pn peideoO | eyo "rexov Tapw.
Verses of this latter formation Elmsley ingeniously defends, by an
hypothesis that the vowel causing the elision might be treated as apper-
taining to the precedent word, and be so pronounced as to produce a
kind of hephthemimeral cesura (in this treatise marked by the letter
iN):

‘ fal ‘4 e , ~
Ta Tpata Kadhoreia | purrevoas otparov.

Vid. Notes on the Ajax, Mus. Crit. 1. p. 477.

5. Several instances, however, are found of the line divided in
medio versu without any such elision, a worse structure still.
Aj. Fl. 1091. Mevédae, | py yvopas | vroorycas | codas.
Pers. 509=515. Opyxnv | repacavres | poyis | ToAAG rove.
On this latter verse, vid. the Note of Blomfield, and Hermann’s
remark in the work already quoted, p. 110=70.

6. But though the verse sometimes does occur with its 3rd and 4th
feet constructed as in the instances above, yet there is a structure of
the words which the tragic writers never admit; that structure which
divides the line by the dipodias of scansion like the artificial verse pre-
served by Athenzeus:

Xe tov Boros | vipoxrirors | Svoyxeipepor.

The following line, scarcely less objectionable as it stood in the

former editions of Aischylus, Pers. 501=507,
; Xrparos wepa | xpvotadrAorHya | dua wdpor,
has been corrected by an easy transposition :
Kpvotadrorjya | dia ropov orparos mepa.
Vide Porson, u. s. pp. xxix, xxx=24, 25.

382 “ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

IV. The Structure of the Comic Trimeter,

1. frequently admits such lines as are divided in medio versu with-
out the quasi-cesura, and, though somewhat rarely, such also as divide
the line by the dipodias of scansion.

Plutus, 68. aod tov avOpwrov | Kaxurta Tovrovi.
Acharn. 183. orovdds pépers | Tav aprédwv | TeTpnLEvov;
2. It readily admits also a Spondee in the 5th foot, without any
regard to the law of Cretic termination ; as

Plut. 2. Aotrov yevérbar rapadpovotvros | dexrorov.
—— 29. Kaxds éxparrov kat révys jv. | Otda ror.

—— 63. Aéyou tov avopa. Kal Tov opvw | Tov Geod.

3. And even when a Dactyl occupies the 5th foot, the modes of
concluding the verse which usually occur are those most directly unlike
to the tragic conclusion: as

Plut. 55. awvOoipeP adv tov xpynopov nav, | 6 te voet.
while forms of this kind are comparatively rare:

Plut. 823. "Evdov pevew iv: édaxve yap | ta BAepapa pov.

1149, “Exer’ arodurov tovs Oeovs | evOade peveis;

V. The Iambic Tetrameter Catalectic,

1. peculiar to Comedy, consists of eight feet all but a syllable; or
may be considered as two dimeters, of which the first is complete in the
technical measure, the second is one syllable short of it.

This tetrameter line, the most harmonious of Iambic verses, is said
to have its second dimeter catalectic to its first: the same mode of |
speaking prevails as to Trochaic and Anapestic tetrameters.

The table of scansion below, exhibiting all the admissible feet, is
drawn up in every point agreeably to Porson’s account of the feet sepa-
rately allowable; except that Elmsley’s plea for the admission (but very
rarely) of UU— of a common word in 4th is here received as legitimate.
See his able argument on that question, Ldinb. Rev. u. s. p. 84.

2. In the resolved or trisyllabie feet one restriction obtains; that
the concurrence of the feet -UWv or VUw and UU— in that order
never takes place; a rule which even in the freer construction of
the Trimeter (ch. m1.) is always strictly observed from its essential
necessity.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 383

1 2 3 4 5 6 (Mies
GCG =—_ Vv = Ce — FR VWi=—= YV=— uU- VV
weUY VYUY YWUY VWUY YUYY YUWY
—VUY —Vv —VUY
VY = VU —] UY OTS ere
(P.E. vu — |} recipit.)
Propriiyuy — Nominis. Us—

3. From the first appearance of the scansional table here exhibited,
it might be supposed that the varieties of this verse would be exceed-
ingly numerous. Two considerations, however, for which we are in-
debted to the acuteness and diligence of Elmsley, show sufficient cause
why the actual number of those varieties is comparatively small :

“ All the trisyllabic feet which are admissible into Comic Iambics
are employed with much greater moderation in the catalectic tetra-
meters than in the common trimeters.” dinb. Rev. u. s. p. 83.

“The Comic Poets admit Anapests more willingly and frequently
into 1st, 3rd, and 5th places, than into the 2nd, 4th, and 6th of the
tetrameter.” LHdinb. Rev. u. s. p. 87.

4, In the verses quoted below from Porson (xliii = 38) examples of
the less usual feet will be found: of (a) UYw in 4th, of (0) wu— in
6th, and of (c) and (72) vU— proprii nominis in 4th and 7th.

The UU— (e) of a common word in 4th is given in deference to the
judgment of Elmsley (Wub. 1059):

(a) mparicta pev ydp eva ye Twa Kabcioev eyxahiwas.

(b) ovx Frrov 7 viv ot Aadodvres WALGLos yap 700d.

(d) éyévero, Mevadirras rowdy, Paidpas te, Unvedorny Oe.
(e) woAXois: 6 youv Uyrels AaBev dia rodTo THY paxatpar.

_5. The structure generally agrees with the scansion, and divides
the verse into two dimeters. In the Plutus, those lines which have this
division are to those lines which divide the verse in the middle of a
word or after an article, &c. nearly as four to one:

Plut. 257, 8. ovxovv opas oppwpevors | yds marae tpobipus,
ws elkds éotw aobevels | yepovtas avdpas 757 5

284, 5. GAN ovkér av xpvyayue’ tov | TWdodrov yap, & vdpes, pxee
dyov 6 Seardrys, Os U\uds wovolovs once.

384 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

And very often the verse is even so constructed as to give a succes-
sion of Iambie dipodias separately heard:
Plut. 253, 4. 7Q wodrAd 8) | 7G Seorory | rairov Ovpov | daydvres,
dvdpes hiroe | ai Sypdrae | kat tod qovetv | épacrat.
After these pleasing specimens of the long Iambic, it is proper to
state that the Comedy from which they are taken exhibits in all respects
a smoothness and regularity of versification unknown to the earlier
plays of Aristophanes. (Elmsley, u. s. p. 83.)

N.B. Of the nature of that licence which admits the Anapest,
whether more or less frequently, into any place of the comic verse but
the last, some account may be reasonably demanded. A probable solu-
tion of the difficulty will be offered in the note (C), ch. xvi., subjoined.

VI. The Trochaic Tetrameter Catalectic of Tragedy,

1. consists of eight feet all but a syllable, or may be considered as
made up of two dimeters, of which the second is catalectic (vide ch. v.
§ 1) to the first.

Its separate feet are shown in the scansional table below; and the
Dactyl of a proper name, admissible only in certain places, is marked by
the letters P. N.

PNJ-vy -—ey) vy KUyV VEY

The Dactyl of a proper name is admitted chiefly where its two short
syllables are inclosed between two longs in the same word ; very rarely
where the word begins with them ; under other circumstances, never.
Iph. A, 882. cis ap’ “Idvyévecav “EXévys | vooros jv rexpwpévos.
1331. mavres “EXAnves, otpards Se | Muppidovwv ov cou mapiy ;

Orest. 1549. Evyyovov 7 eujv, UvaAadyv re | tov rade Evvdpavra por

On the Dactyl or Anapest of proper names in the Trochaic or
Iambic verse of Tragedy a suggestion will be offered in the note (C),
ch. XVI.

In the two following lines will be found specimens of the pure Tro-
chaic verse and of the Trochaic Spondee in all its places :

Phen. 631. dvrirdgopar xrevav oe. | ape todd Epws Exel.

—~— 609. xoprds ef, orovbais rerobus, | al ce colovow Gavetv.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 385

2. As to scansion, one limitation only obtains, that —— (or uv—)
in the 6th never precedes VUW in the 7th. Even in Comedy a verse
like the following is exceedingly rare: (2. P. xlvili.=43.)

Otre yap vavayos, dv py yps AaByroe | Pepopevos.
whereas of —U or Uvw in the 6th preceding VUY in the 7th in-
stances in Tragic verse are not at all uncommon. (The following line
exhibits also UUv in the lst and 5th.)

Phen. 618. ’Avécvtos répvxas: addX’ od ratpidos, ws av, | oX€pL0s.
p yt

3. In structure, the most important point is this; that the first
dimeter must be divided from the second after some word which allows
a pause in the sense; not after a preposition, for instance, or article
belonging in syntax to the second dimeter. (The following lines exhibit
also VU— in 2nd and 6th.)

Orest. 787. ds vw ixerevow pe cdoa. | TO ye Sixavov od EXEL.

Phen. 621. wai ov, pirep; od béuis cor | pytpos ovopatew xdpa.

4. Ifthe first dipodia of the verse is contained in entire words (and
so as to be followed at least by a slight break of the sense), the second foot
is a Trochee (or may be a Tribrach) :

Phen. 636. ws atysos, | oixtpa racywv, eehavvopar xOoves.

Orest. 788. pntépos 8€ | pnd Wow pvyjpa. roepia yap jv.

Bacch. 585=629. «ah o Bpopuos, | ws enorye hatverar, dofav réyw.

This nicety of structure in the long Trochaic of Tragedy was first
discovered by Professor Porson; not an idea of such a canon seems ever
to have been hinted before. (Vid. Kidd’s Tracts and Misc. Criticisms
of Porson, p. 197; Class. Journ. No. xty. pp. 166, 7; Maltby’s Lewicon
Greco-Prosodiacum, p. \xvii.)

In the following lines, apparently exceptions to the rule, the true
sense marks the true structure also:

Orest. 1523. mavraxod | Sqv 780 padrAov 7) Oavety tots cudpoow.

Here zavraxod belongs to the whole sentence, and not to Gjv ex-
clusively.

Iph. A. 1318. tov ye rijs Oeds aida, | réxvov, & ye Setp’ éXpAvbas.

Here no pause of sense takes place after @eds, (which is a mono-
syllable,) but the words from rév to aida are inclosed, as it were, in a
vinculum of syntax.

The two following verses, the first with an enclitic after the four
initial syllables, the second with such a word as is always subjoined to

p, T..G. 25

386 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

other words, have their natural division after the fifth syllable, and all is
correct accordingly : '

Iph. A. 1354. xarOaveiv pév po | dédoxrar todto 8 avro Botopat.

——— 897. adrX exdAyjOys yotv | radaivys rapbévov diros roars.
Nor does the following verse,

Orest. 794. ott exeivo KtadoW Eraipovs, pa) TO ovyyeves pOvor,
contain any real exception to the canon: for the first dipodia does
not end with a word marked by any pause of utterance. Quite the
contrary indeed ; for éxeivo is pronounced in immediate contact with
kTao0e :

Tovr éxewoxtacG €éraipous, k. T. Xr.
otherwise the 2nd foot would not be a spondee at all. (Something more
on this head will be found in note (B), ch. xvr., where lines like the fol-
lowing are considered:

Heeub. 723. “Hpeis piv ovv édpev, ovde Wavoper.)

5. If the verse is concluded by one word forming the Cretic termi-
nation (—U—), or by more words than one to that amount united in
meaning, so that after the sixth foot that portion of sense and sound is
separately perceived, then the sixth foot is —U or VUU, ie. may
not be —— or Vv-.

Phen. 616. e&avvopecOa rarpidos. Kai yap 7AOes | eFedGv.

643. Amides 8 ov'tw Kabevdovo’, ais réroba | avy Oeois.

It is unnecessary to remark, that, in verses like that below, the
words at the close naturally go together, to form a quadrisyllabic ending,
and have nothing to do with the rule here laid down.

“~ > , Lal Lal >. ,

Iph. A. 1349. 66 roca ta 8 adival jpiv Kaprepety | ov fadvov.
The same is true of similar dissyllabic, quinquesyllabic, and other end-
ings; which, however, in Tragic verse rarely takes place.

VIL.—In the Comic Tetrameter,

1. the Seansion agrees with the Tragic, except only that the —— in
6th sometimes, though very rarely, precedes the UUY in 7th (ch. vz.
§ 2), as in the line from Philemon:

Otre yap vavayds, dv py ys AdByrac Pepopevos.
The Comic, like the Tragic Tetrameter, admits the —Uw only in the
case of a proper name, and not otherwise.

2. But, in respect of Structure, the nice points of Tragic verse are
freely neglected. Neither the great division in medio versu (ch. VL

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 387

§ 3), nor the rules (ch. vr. §§ 4, 5), concerning those divisions which
sometimes take place after the first dipodia, or before the final Cretic,
appear to have been regarded in the construction of comic verse. Lines
like the following occur in great abundance:
Nubes, 599. xpira piv xatpew “AGnvailoue kai rots Evypaxors.
—— 580. arr dv vpets | eapdpryt’, ext to BéAriov tpérew.

568, wAdsta yap Gedy aravrwy wpedovous—rtyv TodW.

VilL—<Anapestic Verses.

1. The Anapestic Dimeter of Tragedy is so named from the striking
predominance of the Anapestic foot, though it frequently admits the
Dactylic dipodia. In a regular System, it consists of Dimeters with a
Monometer (or Anapestic base), sometimes interposed, and is concluded
by a Dimeter Catalectic, technically called the Paremiac verse.

The separate feet of the Dimeter Acatalectic are shown in the scan-
sional table below :

UY — VY —1T IVY NS —_—

—_—>_— — —_— — ee

—VuYy —VUY = i eee wok

3. In the occasional or Dactylic dipodia, the Dactyl most usually
precedes its own Spondee, as in three instances which the following
verses contain:

yvopy oropiwy | arep eidivur. |

(Dactyli sepissime substituuntur Anapzstis, nec tantum unus aliquis,
sed sepe etiam plures continui. Quinque continuavit Atschylus in
Agam. 1561 = 1529.

25—2

388 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

TOUTO’ Tpos NOV
, , ‘ ,
Katee, KaTOave, kal katabaoper,
> any A an > »”
ovx v0 KAavOpav tov é& oikwv.
Septem Euripides in Hippolyt. 1361 = 1358.
, / 2 ” , at
mpoapopa pe alpete, atvtova, 6 EAKETE
TOV Kakodaipova, Kal KaTapatov

matpos aumhakias. Hermann, p. 377 = 240.)

5. Very rarely, and perhaps not agreeably, in the Dactylic dipodia,
the Spondee is found to precede the Dactyl: of the two following in-
stances, the first presents the more objectionable form; the second,
succeeded by a Dactyl and Spondee, can hardly be said to offend
at all:

Androm. 1228=1204. daipwv dd¢ ris, | AevKgv aif€épa

ropOpevopevos, | «2...

Iph. A. 161 = 159. 6vntav 8 dABws | eis TEAOS ovdEis.

On this curious subject, in all its minutie, vide the acute and diligent
Elmsley, ad Med. 1050, note g, and Gd. Colon. 1766.

6. The Dactyl, when in any way it precedes the Anapest, appears
to be considered by metrical scholars as a case of great awkwardness and
difficulty. The following statement, reprinted with a few verbal altera-
tions from the Musewm Criticum, (Vol. 1. p. 333), may suffice perhaps
for all practical purposes.

The concurrence of Dactyl with Anapest, in that order, is not very
often found between one dimeter and another.

Eurip. Zlectr. 1320, 1. Evyyove pidrare:

dia yap Cevyvio’ yuds rarpiwv’
(vid. S. Theb. vv. 827, 8. 865, 6, for two more instances.)
The combination is very rare where one dipodia closes with a Dactyl,
and the next begins with an Anapest, thus:
Eurip. Electr, 1317. @apoe Wadrdados—sotav Ees
tok" aX avéxov.
Heeub. 144. 12 "Ayapepvovos | ixéris yovdtwv.
Within the same dipodia, we may venture to assert that such a combi-
nation never takes place.

7. Thus far of the Anapestie Dimeter, when the first dipodia, as
most usually it does, ends with a word.

This, however, is not always the case; and of such verses as want
that division those are the most frequent, and the most pleasing also,
which have the first dipodia after an Anapest (sometimes after a

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 389

Spondee) overflowing into the second, with the movement Anapestic
throughout.

Agam. 52. mrepvywv epetpoiow | eperropevor

—— 794=766. kal évyxaipovow | opovorperets.

(vide Gaisford, Hephest. pp. 279, 80. Maltby, Lew. Graco-Pros. xxviii.
xxix. for a large collection of miscellaneous examples.)

The following rare, perhaps singular, instance:

Prom. V.172=179. «ai p ovre | pedryAucaors reiHovs,
comes recommended at least by the uniform movement; whereas this
line, if the reading be correct, from the Hippolytus,

v. 1876 =1357. ris ébéornn evdeeia revpots ;
within the same word, évdééia, suffers the transition from Anapestic
movement to Dactylic; a transition perhaps not entirely illegitimate,
but one of very rare occurrence.

In the second line of those quoted below, the structure, though
exceedingly rare, is recommended by the continuity of Dactylic feet
before and after it.

Agam. 1557 =1504. ...7v wodvKdairyv

"Idtyevecay | avaéia dSpacas,

aga maoxwv, K.T. A,

8. The synaphea, (or cvvadea,) that property of the Anapestic
System which Bentley first demonstrated, is neither more nor less than
continuous scansion: that is, scansion continued with strict exactness
from the first syllable to the very last, but not including the last itself,
as that syllable, and only that in the whole System, may be long or short
indifferently.

In this species of verse one hiatus alone is permitted, in the case of a
final diphthong or long vowel so placed as to form a short syllable. The
following instances may serve (Hermann, p. 373 = 237) :

Pers. 39. — xat EXewoBarar vadv épérar

—— 548. robéovoa ideiv apritvyiar.

—— 60. otxetar avdpav.

Hecub. 123. 1d Onoeida 8, fw *APnvav.

With this point of prosody premised, two passages may suffice to exem-
plify the Synaphea:

Prom. V. 199, 200. eis apOpov pot wai puroryra

orevsuv omevoovtl 7oF HF.

The last syliable of v. 199 becomes long from the short vowel a being

united with the consonants om at the beginning of v. 200. Had a single

390 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

consonant, or any pair of consonants like xp, 7A, &e. followed in v. 200,
the last syllable of v. 199 would have been short, in violation of the
metre.

Again, Med. 161, 2. 6 peydda Oeue Kat worve “Apreme,

Leiaooe? & TATYXo,...... é

Tf after v. 161, ending with a short vowel, any vowel whatever had
followed in v. 162, that would have violated the law of hiatus observed
in these verses. And if a double consonant, or any pair of consonants
like xr, om, Su, pv, &e. had followed in v. 162, "Apreju, necessarily com-
bined with those consonants, would have formed the Pes Creticus, and
not the Dactyl required. But Aevoow follows with d initial, and all is
correct,

9, The Versus Parcemiacus has its table of scansion as follows:

I 2 3 4
Vu — VU Yur Ww
— LAV ’

One limitation as to the concurring feet obtains, that —Uv in Ist never
precedes UU— in 2nd.

10. In the common dimeter, as must have already appeared, those
dipodias form the most pleasing verse which end in entire words: but
this law does not equally obtain in the Paremiac, which then comes most
agreeably to the ear when it forms the latter hemistich of the dactylic
hexameter,

YU =
whether with the first dipodia distinctly marked, as
Prom V.127. wav pot poBepov | to mpocépzov,
or with any other variety of structure, as

Prom. V. 146. dpovpav alnrov oxjow.

—— 164. éyOpots érixapta wérovOa.
1106. riod, rw aréxtvca paddXov.
——— _ 305. didos éori BeBaorepos cot
Sometimes, however, the Paremiac is differently formed, admitting.
(with restriction § 9) the Dactyl in the Ist:
Med. 1085. ov adropovrov to yvvaixer,

(Vide Musewm Criticum, Vol. 1. pp. 328, 9, 332, 3.)

11. The following may serve as a short specimen of an Anapestic
System with all its usual parts : |

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 391

_— >. lal ”
Med. 757—761. AAA o° 6 Matas ropraios avak
,
meNacere S0p015,
e > > , / /
Gv T érivotay omevoets KaTEXw,
mpakeas, emel yevvatos avip,

fal >
Aiyed, wap’ ewot dedoKnoat.

IX.—The Anapestic Tetrameter Catalectic,

1. peculiar to Comedy, consists of eight feet all but a syllable ;
or may be considered as made up of two dimeters, of which the second
is catalectic to the first. Its scansional table is given below:

I 2 3 4 5 6 Fares
Wi VYy— | UY QI — ES = WI-—- DB
]aUY =uy |] YY —VUY

One restriction as to the feet separately admissible obtains, that the
two feet —UU Uv, in that order, no where concur in the long
Anapestic.

2. In the long as in the short Anapestic verse Dactyls are admitted

much more sparingly into the second than into the first place of the
dipodia. (Elmsley, p. 93.)

3. In the 1200 (or more) Tetrameter Anapestics of Aristophanes
only nineteen examples occur of a Dactyl in 2nd, the only second place
of a dipodia which it can occupy.

In thirteen of those verses the preceding foot is also a Dactyl, as in

ub. 400: ,

ovde KAewvupov, ovde O€wpov; | Kaitor opddpa y' ela’ exiopKot.
In the remaining six of those verses four have the Dactyl after a
Spondee, as Vub. 408:
v p cal , > 2 . M” > ,
WOTTWV YAoTEepa TOL TVYYCVECLV, | KG.T OUK EO XWV apeAnoas.
The other two have the Dactyl after an Anapest, as Vub. 351:
a , , a iA a“ I , TANI , , A
Ti yap, WV apraya TOV OnLoTLWY | Katidwou Sipwva, ti dpaow;
(Elmsley, p. 93.)

4. The last quoted verse exhibits the transition (in long Anapesties)
from Anapestic movement to Dactylic in separate words. The following
verses show within the same word the transition from Dactylic move-
ment to Anapestic. Both cases are very rare:

al ¥
Vesp. 706. et yap éBovdovto Biov ropioa | to dypw, padiov Rv av.

| | i
Ran. 1044. Otk off otSels ftw’ éepdcav | twror éroujoa yuvaika.

392 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

5. Of all those nineteen Tetrameters described in § 3, one only is
destitute of the division (or ceswra technically so called) after the first
dipodia :

Nubes, 353. tatr dpa, ratra KrXelavupoy aitar | tov pifaorw bes

idovoa. (Elmsley, p. 94.)

6. This division after the first dipodia is indispensable, if the 2nd
foot be a Dactyl and the 3rd a Spondee: therefore the last syllable of
the Dactyl may not begin an Iambic or (vy ——) Bacchean word.

The following verses, faulty on that account,

Eccl. 514. EvpBovrAowww aracas | vpiv xpyowwa. Kal yap exec or—
Equit. 505. qvayxalev éxn | A€Lovtas y és to Oéatpov rapaBjnvar—
have been corrected, the one by Brunck, the other by Porson, and by

both from the same delicacy of ear, thus:

, , ca , \ \ ’ “
Evp_Bovrourw | Tracais vpiv | xpyowpat. Kal yap €Kel pol.
> , / »” \ \ , ~
nvaykaley éLovtas ern pos To Oeatpov TwapaBjvar.

(Vide Porson, lix. ix.=53, 54.)

7. The division after the first dimeter is as strictly observed in the
long Anapestic as in the long Trochaic verse (ch. vi. § 3); and, as in
that, cannot take place after a preposition merely, or article belonging
in Syntax to the second dimeter :

Plut. 487, 8. adX 78n xpav | te Neve vas | copdv, O vixjoere ryvd4,

év rota. Aoyous | avtiA€éyovres’ | padraxov 8 évdwcere pydev.

These lines exhibit, beside the one necessary division after the first
dimeter, that after the first dipodia also, which always gives the most
agreeable finish to the verse.

8. It has been remarked, on the authority of Elmsley (vide ch, v.
§ 5), that the Plutus was written after the versification of the comic
stage had assumed an appearance of smoothness and regularity quite
unknown before.

The following analysis of 110 long Anapestic verses from v. 486 of
the Plutus to v. 597 (there being no v. 566 in Dobree’s edition) may
very happily illustrate the truth of that remark.

In 104 of those lines, that which is here regarded as the most har-
monious structure of the verse uniformly prevails.

Of the six which remain, three verses (517, 555, 586) differ only by
having the Dactyl in quinto:

555. ws paxapirny, | & Adparep, | tov Blov avrod KaréXe~as.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 393

And the other three verses (519, 570, 584), though wanting the
division after the first dipodia, yet present the continuous flow of
Anapestic movement throughout :

570. ériBovrevover TE TO mwAnGe, Kal TO onpw ToAELovcw.

N.B. In the Tetrameter Anapestic verse the very same hiatus of a
long vowel or diphthong sometimes occurs as in the Dimeter. (Vide
ch. vin. § 8).

For instance,

Plut. 528. Otr ev damurw" tis yap vdaive eedyoe, ypvotov dvtos;
—— 549, Ovkotv dyrov tis Urwyxeias Teviav dapev elvar ddedpyv;

X.—The Ictus Metricus of Anapestic Verse.

1. The metrical ictus has been briefly explained at the beginning
of this Introduction. Its application to the dipodias of Anapestic verse
is quite clear and perspicuous: the ictus falls on the last syllable of the

uu and its companion ——, and on the first of the —Uvw and its
|
accompanying — —.

First, in a line of pure Anapests, all but one Spondee in the 5th,

which there seems to predominate :
|

ql
Aves, 503. oBodov KxateBpoxbica, kara Kevov tov OvAaxov oad’ adetAxor.

Secondly, in a line of Anapests and Spondees:
] | I lt |
Plutus, 536. xa. madatpwwv vrorewwvtwv Kar ypaidwv KoAocuprov;

Thirdly, in a line with Dactyls and Spondees in the first dimeter:
| | I | i |
Plutus, 575. adda pdvapets Kae wrepvyiters. Kar tws pevyovot oe wavres;

Fourthly, in lines of mixed movement Anapestic and Dactylic:
| | | q |
Ibid. 508. dvo mperButa ~vvOiacwra tov Anpew Kat raparracev.
i | i i
529. ovre prporw pupioae oraxto.s, OToTav vuudyv ayaynobov.

394 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

| q | I
codias evexey” TATaLoL fev Ov.
| J | I i
mavpov yap On yevos ev woAAats
e d
eUpols av Lows
| i |

OVK UTOMOVTOV TO YLVaLKOV.

3. Of course, we are not ignorant that Dawes has given a different
ictuation to the Dactylic parts of Anapestic verse so called.

Assuming that the Anapestic movement is necessarily kept up
through the whole System, to preserve that uniformity he lays the

ictus on the middle syllable of the Dactyl, —Uv, and on the second of

|
the Spondee, ——. (AMiscell. Crit. pp. 189, 122=354, 357 of Kidd's last
edition.) Five lines marked by himself may suffice to show his mode of
ictuation in the Dactylic dipodias.

| | | |
Equit. 496. AN’ 6 xatpwv, Kar mpaceras

KaTQ VOUV TOV €Lov" Kal O€ pvAatrou

| | | |
Zevs ayopatos’ Kat viKnoas

avis ia Taw ws nas
eAGots Post oii eee a

No scholar since that day appears to have doubted or discussed
Dawes’s account of this matter, much less to have approved and de-
fended it. With great reluctance one dissents from so masterly a critic,
whose contributions to metrical knowledge can never be estimated too
highly: but much careful thought bestowed on the subject has led to
that very different result which is here (§ 1) and above (ch. vu. § 1)
candidly stated, and not without some confidence proposed as the plain
and practical truth.

X1.—The Ictus of the long Trochaic verse of Tragedy.

4. In the ictus of Trochaic and in that of Iambic verse, which for
the greater clearness, as will be seen, are taken in that order, there is no
doubt or difficulty, so long as the simple feet, and the Spondees when
paired with one or the other, alone are concerned. ;

Every Trochee has the ictus on its first, every Iambus on its second
syllable; and the Spondee, as it is Trochaic or Iambic, is marked
accordingly,

_ we"

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 395

| i | ' | i
Phen. 609. xopaos «a, | orovdas reroJus, ai ce cwlovow Oavew.

q t | 4
—— 76. | zoAAnv afbpowwas aczid Apyeiwv ayet.

5. Of all the resolved feet, the Tribrach in Trochaic verse with its

= I
ictus on the first syllable 4Uv is most readily recognized by the ear as
equivalent to the Trochee:

: I I | I i
Phen. 618. avocws wedvxas. aX’ ov zarpidos ws ov wodepL0s.

6. What the Tribrach is to the Trochee, the xominal Anapest is to
the Trochaic Spondee, as its equivalent or substitute; and this Anapest

|
of course has its ictus on the first syllable vy —:

| | i | 1
Orest. 1540. adda peraBorreosquerta ztovTo 8 ov KaXws a ee

i | |
1529. ov yap, ts “EANAS? avtos Ppvés rps Pi aS

7. The following lines, formed artificially (like Bentley’s Commo-
davi, &e. in his metres of Terence,) are calculated merely to afford an
easy praxis for the ictuation of Trochaic verse :

i 1 | I y
hae a nr\bev — spi nie ae 87.
cdo be —s or abso ber rN br.

ber adios “XBev adecuy | Oe abeos be Sr.
|

ToTEpa Sedec, ToTEpa. Seite, | mworepa SeBee dedi07a 5

8. Instances frequently occurring of words like those now given,

ad.kos, io &c. ictuated on the antepenult, may be considered, if not
as positively agreeable to the ear, yet at any rate as passing without
objection or offence.

But where the penultima of words like ajorepa or GopvBos is marked
with the ictus, something awkward and hard, or so fancied at least, has
even led to violations of the genuine text under pretence of improving
the metre.

For example, the following genuine verse, Jph. A. 875 = 886,
I i I | . I .
w Ovyatep, 7KELs er akc Kau Gv kat pytnp oebev,

has on that very plea been disfigured (vid. ch. vi. § 4) by this altera-
tion:

| i] | q | I | t
Ovyarep, xis | ex oeOpw ow Kar gv Kat penTnp oeber.

396

In y. 1324 = 1345, the word 6vyat~p occurs with the more usual, and

it may be the pleasanter, ictuation :

| i l i | \ | i
w yvvat tadawa, Andas Ovyatep, ov Wevdy Opoets.

ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

A similar difference is found in the ictus of Aprepidu:
Iph. A. 872 = 883.
| I | ll | | | i}
mavr exes. Aptepide Ovoew ruida onv peAder Tatnp.
i]

| I | I | I |
348 = 359. Apreuidi, kat trAovv eveaOar Aavaidats, yobes ppevas.

The two following lines from the Perse also exhibit that peculiar
ictus :
Teme adie 8 ln le RAB Artes a TGA |
739. w pedeos, olay ap nByv Evppaxwv awdece.
| fl | q | q | 1
176. rovde pow yeverGe, Tleprwv ynpadea mictwpara.

Other varieties, and not of very rare occurrence, may be remarked
in these lines :
| fre ees) te) bt ee
Agam. 1644. dexopevors eyers Oavew oe tyv tvxnv 8 epwpeba.
| ! | I q | q
Iph. A, 852 = 863. os povois reyors av, ew 8 ehOe Bacrrixov Sopwv.
i | t | ! | ,
——— 900=911. ovx exw Bwpov xatapvyew adAov y TO Gov yovv.

XII.—The Ictus of Iambic Verse in Tragedy.

9. In the Iambic dipodia (supra 4) the Iambus and the Spondee
have the ictus on the second syllable. When the Tribrach stands in
the place of the Iambus, and the nominal Dactyl in that of the Spondee,

|
each of those feet has the ictus on the middle syllable, voy, —Yu.

The ictuation therefore of Iambic verse in its resolved feet may be

readily shown:

| ll | 1 leak

Gd. R. 112. rorepa & ev orxors 'v aypots 0 Aaios.
——— 26. sowauwe ny tipdlan Sisiejuins aes ie
—— 568. ws pe ro? ie é coos ai sie TASE ;
Med. 1173. ar nares sig eee ee

Cid. R. 719. ute Bt Cane af is Pr be
Phen. 40. o Aa ipieon sccehale pests f Me

Gd. R. 257. bSoor T onto pails T letbrie
Orest. 288. Kau Yo triechaoner : ies es

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 397

10. It has been truly asserted (ch. m1.) that the structure of the
Iambic Trimeter is decidedly Trochaic. And though every principal
point in the constitution of that verse has been here separately stated
and explained, yet the correspondence betwixt the Iambic Trimeter and
a certain portion of the Trochaic Tetrameter (as hinted above, § 4) may
be advantageously employed to illustrate the common properties of both.
With this view, then, to any Trimeter (except only those very few
with Anapests initial) let the Cretic beginning dyAady or adda viv be
prefixed, and every nicety of ictuation, more clear, as it is, and more
easily apprehended in Trochaic verse, will be immediately identified
in Iambiec.

For instance, the lines already quoted, Gd. R. 112, Orest. 288,
(Ed. Rk. 719, with the Cretic prefixed, become long Trochaics, and admit
the Trochaic analysis :

ll | Hl | 0
Shady. TOTEPGa 8 ev ovxots 7] Y aypots 0 Aaios.

| t | ll a ll | l
dnAadn. Kat yuy avakadurT’, w KaOLYVNTOV Kapa,

| ll | ll | I | d
adda vey eppuyev aldwv xepow ets aBarov opos.

By a similar process, the identity of the Cretic termination in both
verses (ch. ur. § 2. R. and ch. vi. § 5) as subject to the, same canon is
instantly discovered :

The correspondence, however, of the Iambic Trimeter with that portion
of the Trochaic Tetrameter is then only quite perfect when the former
verse has the predominant division, M. (ch. mr. § 1), as in the Senarius
quoted above.

XIIL.—The Ictus of the long Trochaic verse of Comedy.

11. The scansion of the Comic Tetrameter agrees with that of the
Tragic, except in one point, that it admits, though very rarely, the
—— in the 6th before the VUYw in the 7th; and the ictuation is the
very same in both verses. Of that exception the line already quoted
may afford a sufficient example:

| l | oi | | i
ovre yap vavayos, av my yns iain Pepomevos.

398 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

XIV.—The Ictus of Iambie Verse in Comedy.

12. The Comic Trimeter in Scansion differs from the Tragie by ad-
mitting the —Uv im the 5th, and the WU in the 2d, 3d, 4th, and 5th.

| é
The Dactyl in the 5th of the Comic has the same ictus —Uv as it
has in the Ist and 3d of the Tragic Senarius, thus:
] gtul | I J |
Plut. 55. mvGoure? av tov xpyopov yor, ore voet.
t
— 1149. ere’ azrodurwv rovs Geous evOade pevets.

Whatever be the real nature of that licence which admits the
Anapest so freely into Comic verse, no doubt can exist as to the place
of its.ictus on the last syllable sU—; and the following lines may serve
as examples:

i l 1 | 1
Nub. 2. wo Zev Bacirier, to ypypa Tov vuKtwv ooov.
t | b | 4

—— 24. ef eLexomnv zporepov tov odbadpov Bw.
| I | l I

—— 20. orocois oferw, Kat Noywrwjrat Tovs ToKoUs.

| 1 | i | t
—— 1]. adX ex doxer, peyxwper eyxexaduppevor.

13. The Tetrameter of Comedy admits no feet but those which are
found, and with more frequency, in the Trimeter. The ictuation on the
feet in each verse is the very same, as the following lines may serve to
exemplify: (Porson, xli.=38).

| ny | q
Plut. 253. w wodda dy tw Seoroty tavrov Ovpov dayovres.

1 t | i |
Rane 911. zpwrora pev yap éva ye twa Kabacev eyxadupas.

| t | a
—— 917. ovy yrrov q ver ot Nadovvres: HABos yap noOa.
h
Thesm. 549, eyevero MeXavirras towv Pardpas re Wyvedorny Se.

In this verse, generally, the Iambiec structure so clearly predomi-
nates, that little advantage can be gained by submitting it to the
Trochaic analysis; as, against the judgment of Bentley, has been lately
recommended by Lgenius. (Vide Maltby, Lex. Gr. Pros. p. xxxvi.)

And yet in some cases, perhaps, of resolved feet, and in verses too
wanting the regular cesura, the law of ictuation may be more correctly.
apprehended by applying the Trochaic scale than otherwise.

It is worth the while to observe, that of 37 Tetrameters in the
Plutus, vv. 253—289, containing only two resolved feet, one a Tribrach,
and one a Dactyl, (vid. Elmsley, u. s. p. 83,) the versification is remark-

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 899

ably smooth ; and if those lines be read with the proper ictus, the
Tambic movement cannot fail to be pleasantly and distinctly felt on
the ear,

XV.—Note A. On the Concurrences.

In ch. 11, where the occurrence of UY or —Vv before U— in
the Trimeter of Comedy is condemned, a promise is given that the
necessity for that limitation should be made to appear.

The true constitution of the Comic Senarius (in all its bearings)
was first discerned by Dawes. In his Emendations on the Acharnians
(Mise. Crit. 253—463, &c.) at v. 146,

Ey rove torxors eypadpov A@Pnvatoe Kadou,

he condemns as unlawful the concurrence of feet above mentioned, and
claims the credit not only of discovering that canon, but of assigning the
true reason also as derived from the laws of Iambic ictuation.

As the verse stands at present, he says,

Ev tout roxois eypadov A@nvaor KaXor,

you haye, with gross offence to the ear, the interval of four syllables
from ictus to ictus, when the lawful extent of that interval can only be
three. His emendation, demanded no less by the syntax of the whole
passage than by the metre of that line, has since been sanctioned by the
authority of the Ravenna MS.
I | | ada |
Ev tow torxors eypad’, A@nvacoe Kado
On the Trochaic Scale of Scansion, it is obvious to remark, that the
redundance of a syllable in the vulgar text would be instantly detected:
| i | i | l | i
~adha vov ev | Toure ToLxors | eypadbov A@yvarroe Kado.
One illustration more, from a false reading in Tragedy, may not be
deemed superfluous.
In the Orestes, 499=505, the text of the old editions stands thus:
avtos Kakiwy éyéveTo pytépa KTaVvur,
which in the Iambic Scansion presents the concurrence of the —UYU
and the vu—. Here again the Trochaic scale affords the ready test ;
it instantly detects the redundant syllable:
| ll | | \ l | i]

'
- , ,
alia vuv av Tos KaKLWY | eyeveTo pynre|pa KTQVWV.

The just and simple emendation of Porson need hardly be given;

Bie X ,> , ,
AUTOS KK (WY yTEp €yeveTo KTGVQV,

400 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

XVI.—Note B. On the Pause or Cretic Termination.
(Vide ch. ur. § 2. ch. vi. § 5.)

1. In the Iambic Trimeter, if the slightest pause or break in the
sense cause the word or words which give to the verse a Cretic ending
(—U-—) to be separately uttered, then the fifth foot may not be ——, but
must be U— or UUY.

The different modes of concluding the line which reject the -—— in
5th shall be first exhibited.

a. The simplest structure which rejects the —— there is the follow-
ing, when the Cretic consists of a single detached word:

Hecub. 343. xpvrrovta xetpa kal rpoowrov | éuradw.
Ton 1. "Arthas 0 vwTows xaAdKéourw | ovpavov.

which lines in the old editions stand thus:
KpUmTovTa xelpa Kal mpoowror | tovprahw.
¥ c , , > ,
Arias 6 xaAKéoure vwrrots | ovpavor.

(Vide Porson, xxx.=27.)

B. In the next case, the Cretic consists of —v and a syllable,
thus:

Orest. 1079. xdos 8& tovpoy Kat gov ovker’ | éori | Sy.

—— 1081. yap’, ov yap jyiy éeote totro, | coi ye | py.
or the Cretic consists of an article or preposition (—) attached (in syntax
or collocation) to the subsequent word:

Hecub. 382. «adds pév clzas, Giyatep, adda | 7 Kado.
—— 397. dewos xapaxryp, Karionpos | ev Bporois.
Under this head of monosyllables are embraced ris, rds, when interro-
gative, with ws, ov, cai, and the like. (Vide Porson, xxxi.=27.)

2. Many semblances of the Cretic termination occur, to which the

Canon bears no application. Those cases, admitting the —— in 5th,
may be commodiously classed under the following heads :

Where a monosyllabic word before the final Iambus belongs by
collocation to the preceding word ; as in enclities :

Hee. 505. orevduper, éyxovpev> ayov por, | yépov.

Prom. V. 669. ri wapGevever dapov, eLov cor | yapov.

Agam. 1019. érw dpevav A€yovca reibw vw | Adyw.

Rhes. 717. Biov 8 éxacrav cipx’ ay'prns tes | Adrpts.

Philoct. 801. €uxpnoov, & yevvate: ways tot | wore.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS, 401

Or in such words, not enclitic, as cannot begin a sentence or a verse :
Prom. V.107. oiev ré pot tacd éori> Ovytois yap | yépa.
Trach. 718. wads otk odet Kai rovde; d0&y yodv | euy.
Prom. V. 846. déy’> ei SE wav7’ cipyxas, ypiv ad | xapw.
Gd. T, 142. adN ows taxurra aides, vuets pev | Babpov.
Soph. Hlectr. 413. et pou A€yous rHVv Oey, eiroun’ av | Tore.

In the numerous instances of av so placed, it deserves remark,
that av is always subjoined to its verb, and that with elision, as in
the line quoted. (Vide Porson, xxvi. =28.)

3. Where words like ovde’s and pdeis so given, ought in Attic ortho-
graphy to be written thus: ovd’ eis and pd ets :

Phen. 759. apporepov: arorepbev yap ov8 ev Odrepov.

Alc, 687. jv & eyy’s Gy Oavatos, ov8 eis Bovrcrau.

(Vide Porson, xxxiy. v. = 31.)

4. And where in the plays of Sophocles, the dative cases plural
of eyo and ov are exhibited as Spondees, thus, ypiv, duty, when that
Tragedian, however strange it may appear, employed those pronouns
in his verse actually as Trochees. In that pronunciation, they are by
some Grammarians written, uly, viv, but jw, juw, more generally :

Electr. 1328. 7 vots éveotw ovtis baw eyyerys 5

Gd. Col. 25. was yep ts yvda totrs y Huw éurdpov.

In which two lines tyiv and yyiv would vitiate the metre.

(Vide Porson, xxxv. = 32.)
_ 5, One particular case seems to have created a very needless per-
plexity ; namely, where the verse is concluded by a trisyllabic word
with certain consonants initial which do not permit the short vowel
precedent to form a short syllable. (Vide Porson, xxxviii. = 34, 5.)

The following verses, as being supposed to labour under the vicious
termination, are recommended by the Professor to the sagacity of young
Scholars for correction :

Hecub. 117. nyets prev ovv edpev, 08d? Wavoper.

Androm. 347. petyee to taitns addpov: adda Weicerat.

Iph. A. 531. Kay? as iréorny Gipa, Kara Wevdopac.

(In these verses, also, from Euripides, the very same difficulty, if it
be one, is involved :

Bacche 1284. “Oiywwypévov ye zpocbev 7 ce yvopicar.

Electr. 850. — rAjpwv ’Opéorys: aGdrAd py pe Krecvere.)

Here the word preceding the final Cretic must be either a Trochee
or a Spondee, If it is a Trochee, all is well: nothing more need

D. T. G. 26

402 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

be said. If it is not a Trochee, but a Spondee, what causes it to be so ?
Evidently the final short vowel of each word being touched in utterance
by the initial 7 of y, or ro, with which the next word commences.
Then, so far from any pause or break of the sense intervening, on
which condition alone the Canon operates, there is an absolute con-
tinuity of sound and sense together ; and the verse ends with a quin-
quesyllabic termination, as complete as in Pheniss. 32. 53, where
é€avdpovpevos and ovyxowpéry terminate the line: even so, ovderaavo-
pev, dAAaroeoetat, Katatoevdopa. (This was stated so long ago as

1802. Vide Dalzel, Collect. Grec. Maj. t. ii. Nott. p. 164.)

6. Several modifications of the line, according to the connexion
of the words by which it is concluded, come next to be considered.
Some of these cases, when the words are duly separated, present a
dissyllabic, some a quadrisyllabic ending ; in others the combination
is such as to exhibit a collective termination of five syllables, or
more :

a. Gd. R. 435. ypeis toroid’ ebupev, ws ev cou doxet:

This line, even so read, would not violate the Canon ; for it does
not present a Cretic separately pronounced. But it stands far more
correctly thus in Elmsley’s Edition,—os oot pév | doxe?, with an ending
clearly dissyllabic.

B. The following line again as clearly presents a termination of four
syllables :

Cd. R. 1157. &wx- drdécar & dedov | 7H8 ypé py.

The three following instances are taken from Elmsley, ad Cd.
Col. 115.

y. Iph, A, 858. Soidos, obx aBpivopae Gd 4 TUxn yap pf! ovK ed.

Here the ending is not trisyllabie; for p’ ov« go together, and
the enclitie wé hangs upon yep: and as yap in collocation is attached
to the precedent 7 tx, the accumulation of syllables in continuity
amounts to seven.

8. Ton 808. déarowa, rpodedopecba: ovv yap oct voow.

Here the words otv ydp cot, being under the vinculum of Syntax,
cannot be disjoined. And ovtv col yap, if so read, from the law of
collocation in words like ydp, must go together. ither way the
structure of the verse is legitimate, with a dissyllabic ending.

«. Eur. Electr. 275. jpov 768; atcxpov y «tras: ov yap viv akpn.

Here od negatives vdv, and of course must be uttered in the same

breath with it, —— ov ydp viv | axp7.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 403

Elmsley himself, (ad @d. Col. 115) on the two following lines,

& Ged. Col. 265. dvopa povov detcavres: ov yap 8y TO Ye,

n. Electr. 432. t¥pBo mpoodyys pydev ov yap oo Gems,
justly remarks, that neither line contains any thing wrong: for the
words got and 87, the one enclitic, the other by collocation attached
to the word precedent, make a slight dissyllabic ending, as far as any
separate termination exists.

7. The following line may serve to represent several others of
similar construction :

Aj. Fl. 1101. éeor avaccev, av 08 yet’ oixober.

(Vide Elmsley, Mus. Crit. Vol. 1 pp. 476—480, et ad Heracl.
371. 530.)

“Tf we suppose the first syllable of oixofev to be attracted by the
elision to the preceding word, the verse will cease to be an exception
to Porson’s Canon.” At the same time, he frankly confesses, that he is
not satisfied with this solution of the difficulty, and goes on with great
acuteness to state his objections to it.

Now, on the other hand, we are told of Hegelochus, who acted
the part of Orestes in the play so named, that when he came to y. 273,
ek Kupdtwv yap avdis ad yadyjv’ opd, wanting breath to pronounce yad7v
op® with the delicate synalepha required, he stepped between the words,
and uttered these sounds instead, yaA#v opd. (Vide Porson, ad Orest.
273.)

From this anecdote have we any right to conclude, that in cases
like that of......1yetr’ oixoev, at the close of the verse, the first syllable
of oixobev was by the elision attracted to the preceding word yyetro!
and in all similar cases may we suppose the two werds to have been
so closely connected in sewnd as to leave no perceptible suspension
of the sense whatsoever !

It is enough perhaps to have thrown out the suggestion ; and there
let the matter rest for the present’.

XVII.—Note C. On the Anapest Proprii Nominis in the Tragic
Senarius and on other licences of a similar description.

Before we engage in the direct discussion of the point here proposed,
let a few remarks be premised.

_ 1 It is quite clear that the aspirate at the beginning of a word was not pronounced
in a synalcpha unless it could be transferred to the preceding consonant, e.g. rai0’
6p. While then yad#v dp would be distinctly given as galén horé, the articulation
of yaA7p’ op must have been galé-nord, which would make a very perceptible differ-
ence.—J. W. D,

26—2

404 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

1. In the first place, there is a well-known distinction in niusic
betwixt common time and triple time. To this musical distinction
there exists something confessedly analogous in the difference betwixt
the time of Anapestic and Dactylic verse, and that of Iambic and
Trochaic.

Agreeably then to this analogy, we may be allowed for the sake
of illustration to use the terms common and triple time in the pages
which follow.

2. In the next place, the terms Anapest and Dactyl have been
already used on two occasions palpably different.

First, as the names of the natural feet in the triple time of Ana-

|
pestic and Dactylic verse, with their ictus thus, vy—, -uv.

q | b
Med. 167, 8. w zarep, w ToXts, wv arevacbyy.

| i | ]
ALT XKPWS TOV ELLOV KTELVAOE KACLV.
Secondly, as the names of two short syllables before or after a long

one, in the common time of Trochaic or Iambic verse, with a different

| {
ictus thus, vyu—, —UrV.

| I | i}
Cid. R. 257. avdpos y' apurtov Bactiews 7 oAwAoTOs.
| ; tes | | 1
Phen. 621. xa ov pytep; ov Penis cou pntpos ovopatew Kapa.
In future, it may be safe and useful to call the first of these the
natural, and the second the nominal, Dactyl and Anapest.

3. Thirdly, the terms Anapest and Dactyl have a different use
still, to denote certain feet admissible in certain kinds of Iambic and
Trochaic verse, as equivalent to the proper feet of each metre, being
admitted not only into the Spondaic places of the dipodia, but into the
Iambie amd Trochaic likewise.

In the pronunciation of those peculiar feet, it is probable there was
something correspondent to the slurring, so called, of musical notes ;
and since necessity demands a third name for a third character, it may
justify our adoption of slurred Anapest and slurred Dactyl, as terms
not inappropriate for that purpose,

Let the marks then, v (VU) ar and rs (U) U, be permitted to represent
each of those peculiarities, when each requires to be separately. repre-
sented. But for reasons of convenience, which will be found very
striking when we come to the practical part of the subject, we beg leave
to introduce a more comprehensive method, equally suited to Iambic.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 405

| |
and Trochaic verse ; and that is, to make —UW— the sign of the ap-

| |
parent syllables involved in the discussion, and — (Vv) v— or — v — the
sign of the real sounds as they are supposed to have been uttered.
Nubes 131. doyov axpiBdv cxwdadrapovs pabjcopar 5
—Vwu-

Iph. A. 882. «is dp’ Iptyéverav “EXévys vooros iv Terpopevos 5
: — Wu

4. Whatever truth or probability may be found in the following
attempt to account for the —UYU— Proprii Nominis in the Trochaic
or Iambiec verse of Tragedy, (and for the admission of that licence
with common -words also into the Iambics of Comedy,) the whole
merit of the discovery, if any, is due to 8. Clarke, whose suggestion
(ad II. B. v. 811) is here pursued, enforced, and developed.

Clarke, after quoting instances of WU— Proprii Nominis, but
only in the 4th foot of the Trimeter, proceeds to argue thus. If the
Tambic verse of Tragedy, under other circumstances, rejects in the 4th
the UU— as equal in time to ——, and admits only the Y— or equiva-
lent UVY, then it is clear that the proper names which exhibit VU —
to the eye could never have been pronounced at full length in three
distinct syllables, but must have been hurried in utterance, so as to
carry only V— to the ear.

And since long proper names (as Clarke justly observes) are from
their nature liable to be rapidly spoken ; in the following verses,

Phen. 764=769. yapous 8 adeApis Avruyovys wad0s Te Tov.

Androm. 14. TO vnowTn Novrod€uw dSopos yépas,
and in that above,

“eis dip’ Idiyeverav “EXevns vooros nv Tempwpevos ;

naturally enough the names ’Avrvyévys and Novurrodéuw and “Iduyéverav
might be slurred into something like Avr’ yévys, Nourr’ eww, “Ip'yeveray :
the ear of course would find no cause of offence, and the eye takes
no cognizance of the matter.

5. If this mode of solution be allowed as probable at least in
the department of proper names in Tragic verse to which it bears direct
application, by parity of argument perhaps it may be extended to the
similar case of common words used in Comic verse also.

Take for instance the line above quoted ;

Aoywv axpBav oxwdardpovs pabjoropat ;

What was the objection to the old and vulgar reading, .cxwdadpors 7

406 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

Clearly this : that it placed a —— in 4th. What then does oxwodadapovs
place there? Either UU — is pronounced as three distinct syllables,
in what is called triple time, while the metre itself is in common, or by
rapid utterance oxwéAdpovs comes to the ear, and so the verse proceeds
with its own regular movement.

Briefly, we have either cxwdahpovs, a molossus, ———, which mur-
ders the metre entirely ;

or oxwdaddpovs, a full-sounded choriambus, —UU—, which con-
trary to the law of the verse mingles triple with common time ;

or oxww6(a)Acpuous, i.e. in effect, the pes Creticus, —U—, that very
quantum of sound which the metre requires.

Obs. Tt may be necessary to remark, that Clarke’s reasoning about
the UU— Proprii Nominis in the 4th is just as applicable to the 2nd
place also with that foot as to the 4th. And if his argument, as here
stated, be sufficient to account for the licence in the 2nd and 4th places,
of course, where the same licence occurs in the 3rd and 5th, its admis-
sion there also must be considered in the very same light.

For examples of the wy— (or —UY—) Proprii Nominis in all the

four places, see ch. 1. § 3.

6. Before advancing a step farther, it is but right to avow, that all
which we at present propose is to set this question fairly a-going on its
apparently reasonable and very probable ground.

High probability then favovrs the idea, that the Anapests (and
Choriambi) of Greek Comedy (under all combinations of words and
syllables) were passed lightly over the tongue without trespassing on the
time allowed betwixt ictus and ictus in verses not containing those feet,
i.e. in metres of common time.

Anything like a perfect enumeration of particulars commodiously
classed would be found to demand a serious sacrifice of leisure and
labour. The classes which are here given in specimen only, while they
undoubtedly embrace a very great majority of the facts, may serve to
show the nature of that extensive survey which would be necessary to
make the induction complete.

7. Instances like cxwdadcpous, it might @ priori be calculated, are
not likely to be very numerous; hardly 10 in every 100 of the Comic
Trimeters: nor do all the words of similar dimensions with oyuwdada-
pous present a choriambus so readily obedient to our organs at least
for running four syllables into three.

Nubes 16. ovieporore | & ixmovs: eyo 8 aroAXvpat,

Plutus 25. eivovs yap av co. | rvvOavopar | ravy aodpa.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. 407

Besides the instances of —UU— in one word, which afford the
strongest case for the admission of the licence, some other principal
modes in which that apparent foot is made up may be classed under
four heads.

A. Where a long monosyllable, from its nature more or less
adhering to the word which it precedes, may be supposed to form a
coalescence of this kind, |—|UU—].

Plutus 45. er od wins | tiv erivoilav tov Geod ;
apos Aaxedat|novious pove.

Acharn. 52. o7ovdas roeic bat
Nubes 12. GAN | ov Ovvapat | Se(Aavos evdew SaKvopLevos.

B. Where either a monosyllable precedes, having from the law of
collocation less adherence to what follows; or some longer word pre-
cedes, not particularly attached to the word which follows, or by syntax
united to it:

Plut. 56. aye | 8) zporepov | od cavrév, doris €t, ppacov.

Nub. 25. irlwv, adicets' | CAavve tov cavtod dpopov.

Plut. 148. d8o0d|os yeyevy|wor dia tO py Tovteiv tows.

C. Where, after an elision, concurrences of this kind take place:

Plut. 12. pedayyo|havr’ axérep|pe pov tov deororqy.

16. ov|tos & axodov|Get, Kae rpooPBidlerar.

—— 195. Kav | tat7 avicy|rat, tertapaxovra BovrAcrat.

D. Where a monosyllable by its natural position follows a longer
word: , |

Plut. 688. 70 ypadiv 8 as | yoGero 57 | pov tov Wodov.

—— 943. Kal radra mpos 70 pétwrov | avrixa 8 | pada.

N.B. From the very close connexion of the article with its noun,
TO pérwrov may be fairly taken as one word; and so, in the following
line, we may consider te. voojpara.:

Plut. 708. 8eloas' éxetvos 8 ev kixhw Ta voojmara,
Thus v. 943 will become referable to the class A, and v. 708 to the
class B, along with many combinations of the very same kind.

_ 8 If the idea of this inquiry had struck the mind of Elmsley
as worthy at all of his careful research, little or nothing would have
been afterwards left for investigation. The topic was not without
interest to him as an Editor of Aristophanes: and on the Acharnians,
ad y. 178, and in reference to v. 531,

Té eorw; eyo pev Setpd cor orovddas pepwv—

»
Horparrev, ¢Bpovra, Svvexixa tiv “EXAada—

408 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES-AND PROSODY

in a note of great and successful acuteness, he examines and settles a
curious point in the main subject itself.

“178. Hodie hic ri éor malim, et yortpam7, v. 531. Nam longe
rarius, quam putaram, anapestum in hoc metri genere inchoat ultima
vocis syllaba.” The whole note will amply repay the trouble of
perusal.

ri PROSODY.

On Syllabic Quantity, and on its Differences in Heroie and
Dramatic Verse.

1. By syllabic quantity is here meant the quantity of a syllable
under these circumstances: the vowel, being unquestionably short, pre-
cedes a pair of consonants of such a nature that it may any where be
pronounced either distinctly apart from them, or in combination with
the first of the two.

If the vowel be pronounced apart from those consonants, as in 7zre-
tpas, that syllable is said to be short by nature.

If the vowel be pronounced in combination with the first of those
consonants, as in wet-pas, the syllable then is said to be long by
position.

2. The subjoined list comprises all the pairs of consonants which
may begin a word, and also permit a short vowel within the same word
to form a short syllable. =

i. 7p, Kp, TP: Pp, XPs Op: Pps yp, Sp.

ii. aA, KA, TA: PA, XA, OA.— ili. wv, Kv: xv, Ov.—iv. Tp.

The only remaining pairs, PA, yA: du: and pv, which are at once
imitial, and in avery few cases permissive, may, on account of that rarity,
be passed over for the present. But the following pairs, xp: Xe, Op:
tv: dv, though not initial yet within the same word permissive, deserve
to be stated here, as they will afterwards be noticed.

3. More than twenty other combinations of consonants, (along with
W, § &) though qualified to be initial, are of course foreign to the pur-
pose, as never being permissive also; at least in the practice of thosé
authors to whom these remarks are confined.

The combinations last mentioned it may be allowed in future to call
non-permassive; and for this reason, that neither within the same word,
nor between one word and another, (of verse at least,) do they permit a
preceding short vowel to be pronounced distinctly apart: it seems to be
coupled with them always by an irresistible attraction.

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. A09

In turning from the Comic trimeter of Aristophanes to the stately
hexameter of Homer, the difference of syllabic quantity must be strik-
ingly felt: and that contrast is here purposely taken, to show more
clearly in what the great difference consists betwixt the prosody of
heroic and that of dramatic verse.

4. Homer seldom allows a short vowel to form a short syllable be-
fore any of those pernvissive pairs lately detailed, and only before some
few of them. The following cases occur betwixt one word and another :
such correptions within the same word are yet more uncommon.

A. 113. Oitkou yew: Kal yap pa Kdvroyvyotpys zpoBéBovda.
— 263. Ofov Tleipiodv re, Apvavra re, royéva rawr.
— 528. 7H, kat xvavenow em odpvor vedtoe Kpoviwv.

— 609. Zevds 8& mpos dv A€xos Ti "OAVprios acteporyrys.

5. Aristophanes (with very few exceptions in Anapestic verse,
pointed out by Porson, pp. lx. lxi.=p. 54) never allows a short vowel
cum ictu to form a long syllable with any permissive pair, even within

the same word.
| I
Plut. 449. owovcw on-dors 7) dvvaper werobdTes ;

Such was, indeed, the vulgar reading, till Dawes (M. C. p. 196) antici-
pating, as usual, the Ravenna MS., gave the true text :

| ll
™ Tos 6-rAcw 7 Svvaper reroubores ;

6. .Homer, on the other hand, not only in the same word cum icti,
but in the same word extra ictwm, and even between two words in the
same debilis positio, makes the syllable long.

A. 13. Avoopevos te Ovyat-pa, pépwv 7 arepelov arrowa.
|
— 77. °H pév pou zpod-pwov éreow kal xepoty apygeuv.
| | E
—-345. “Os dato: Iar-pox-Aos Sé pitw érereiOel? Eraipw.
|

A. 57. adday-pn Kat guov Owevar movov ovK arédeotov.
| |
H.189. yvw dex-Anpov ojpa wv, yiOyoe Se Ovpd.

7. The only possible case in which Aristophanes might prolong
such a syllable would be in the use of verbs like these, éx-Avw, éx-paive,
éx-vetw, éx-péw, if compounds of that kind ever occur ; because, from the
very nature of the compound, é« must always be pronounced distinct
from the initial consonant of the verb.

410 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROSODY

8. In Homer, on the contrary, even the loose vowel of augment (e)
or reduplication, when it precedes 7A, kA, xp, Tp, &c., initial of the verb,
not only cwm ictu, but even extra ictum, is made to form a long syllable. —

A. 46. ex-ayav 8 ap’ oicrol éx Gpwv xXwopevoto.

— 309. "Es & éperas éx-pwev éeixoow, és 0 ExaropBnv.

| |
176. Wetapévn, xepot wAoxapous é7-AcEe pacivovs.
N. 542. Aamov roy’, eri ot tet-pappévor, o€éi Soupt.

9. In Homer no dissyllabic word like zazpds, texvov, o¢pa, &e.,
which can have the first syllable long, is ever found with it otherwise :
in Aristophanes those first syllables are constantly shortened.

10. Briefly, then, it may be said, that in Homer, whatever can be
long is very seldom (and under very nice circumstances) ever short: in
Aristophanes, whatever can be short is never found long.

To complete the purpose of this little sketch, the tragic prosody also
(of Euripides, for instance), in a few correspondent points, may as well
be presented.

11. Aristophanes, even in the same word, and where the ictus might
be available (§ 5), never makes a long syllable : Euripides, who excludes
the prolongation even ewm ictw betwixt one word and another,

| $
(Orest. 64. mapbévov, éun te pytpt wapedwxev T perry,

i.e, not wapedwxer pedety,)

within the same word, readily allows it :

|
Med. 4. tpnbeica reixn, pnd epet-padoat xépas.

\ \ >. | , >> 2
mpodovs yap avtod tex-va, Seaver T eury.
95 ‘ , , 3. , ,

25, tov mavtTa ovvTiKovea daK-pvots Xpovov.

—

12. In Euripides, even those dissyllabic words (alluded to § 9),
wherever, from its position, the syllable is decisively long or short,
exhibit that syllable thrice short to one case of long. Consequently, in
certain positions (unictuated) of Iambic or Trochaic verse, which indif-
ferently admit either quantity, there can be no reasonable ground for
supposing that syllable to be lengthened : of course, therefore, the fol-
lowing lines are thus read :

Med. 226. mtkpos wodiras éotiv apabias vro-
Tph. A, 891. eri rivos orovdacréov pot paddAov, 7) Té-KvoU Téept;

OF THE GREEK DRAMATISTS, 411

13. In cases where the augment falls as in érékAwoey or xexAjobat,
or where, as in zoAvxpvoos and amotpo7rot, the short vowel closes the first
part of a composite word, the prolongation of that syllable in Euripides,
though not altogether avoided, is yet exceedingly rare. (R. P. ad Orest.
64).

14. One great cause of the many mistakes about syllabic quantity
should seem to be involved in that false position of S. Clarke’s (ad JI. B.
537), that a short vowel preceding any two consonants with which a
syllable can be commenced may form a short syllable. Nothing was ever
more unluckily asserted, or more pregnant with confusion and error.

15. To the perspicacity and acuteness of Dawes (JZ. C. pp. 90, 1,
196, 146, 7) we are indebted for the first clear statement of the principal
points in this department of prosody: to the deliberate and masterly
judgment of Porson (ad Orest. 64, and elsewhere) we owe whatever else
is correctly and certainly known.

16. Some little things, however, may serve to show that an English
ear, especially on a sudden appeal, is no very competent judge of Aétic
correptions, so called.

For instance, in the following lines:

Phen. 1444. é rade pytyp 4 Tarawa rpoorirvel,

Ale. 434, ériotapat ye, KovK advw Kakov T0d«,
it is not fram any practice of our own, certainly, that we should pro-
nounce the ‘words zpoori-rve. and a-dvw with precision and facility in
that very way.

17. So, too, if axun and éopev were on a sudden proposed as to the
shortening of the first syllable in each, it might seem to an English ear
just as improbable in the noun as in the verb; although in Athenian
utterance we know very well the fact was quite otherwise.

Toup (vid. Emendd. Vol. 1. 114, 5; 1v. 441) maintained in his day
(what is now called) the permissiveness of ow: and actually, on that
ground, suggested the following as an emendatien of a passage in Sopho-
cles, for éuév or ipev:

do icy! cog Se ws evravd é-cper,
iv ovkér oxvetv Katpos, GAN épywv ax,
(where dp}, of course, is right enough, being pronounced a-kp7). Since
Porson’s delicate correction of that error (u. s. p. 441) no argument has
been advanced in its defence. And yet, & priori, why should not op be
permissive, as well as Oy, for instance? “The consonants on can begin
a word; why not commence a separate syllable? How can 6 commence
a syllable, when notoriously it cannot begin a word?”

412 ON THE LANGUAGE, METRES AND PROsopY, &c.

18. The plain trath, however, stands thus: that x and 6p, (with
xv, bv, 7v,) though never used as initial to any word, yet within the
same words are found permissive much too often to admit the shadow of
a doubt on that head.

Phen. 351. Kat yap perp avOpuroct kat pépy ota-Opav
may be taken for one undisputed example; there is no want of more.

19. How far in the different pairs of consonants which have been
defined as non-permissive (§ 3), a physical necessity was the obstacle, in
some at least, if not in others, might be a question for anatomy rather
than for criticism.

Special Rules of Quantity.

1. ‘Hyiv and dpév, when so written for jpiv, vpiv, have the last syl-
lable short in Sophocles. Elmsley has thus stated the case.

Solus e tragicis secundam in »piy et vpiy corripit Sophocles, monente
Porsono Prefat. p. xxxvii. Id in integris fabulis bis et quadragies
extra melica fecit. Septies autem necessario produxit ante vocalem ;
(Ed. Tyr. 631, Cid. Col. 826, Trach. 1273, Aj. 689, Hl. 355, 454, 1381.
Quze omnia emendationis egere suspicari videtur Porsonus. Ego vero
casu potius quam consilio factum puto, ut tam raro ancipitem vocalem
necessario produceret Noster. Nam simile quid Euripidi accidisse video.
Ts, ut monuit Porsonus, posteriorem horum pronominum s Nabam nus-
quam corripuit.—Quod ad accentum correpte forme attinety alii npev et
Syuy, alii qpiv et duly scribendum arbitrantur. Hanc scripttram adhibuit
Aldus in Ajace et Electre versibus primis 357, dehine vero ju et dpw
usque ad finem libri. “Hyiv et vpiv ubique editiones recentiores, quarum
scripturam post Brunckium adoptavi. Elmsley, Pref. ad Gdip. Ty-

Tann. P. X-

2, Lis common in idopat, tarpds, Mav, dpvis. The quantity of this
vowel varies in avid and avapos.

Nomen avia, vel avin, plerumque penultimam producit, aliquando
corripit, ut in quatuor exemplis a Ruhnkenio, Zpist. Crit. u. p. 276,
adductis,—Verbum drvidw vel dvut~w, apud Epicos poétas secundam ple-
rumque producit, ut et in Soph. Antig. 319. Verbum avid apud Aristo-
phanem penultimam ter corripit, semel producit Hq. 348. (349, Bekk.)
—Semper, nisi fallor, secunda in aviapds ab Euripide et Aristophane cor-
ripitur, producitur a Sophocle Antig. 316, Sed ubique tertia syllaba longa
est. Porson. ad Phen. y. 1334.

3. TI is long in xéus, -w, ddis, -w, e.g. Asch. Pers. 1085, Choeph.
928.

EXAMINATION PAPERS

ON THE

GREEK TRAGEDIANS.

an inh-ing ime? or rs yr
eee ae ; + et ost a ¥
ao hae ea Get tyre: ; Sins ‘ 1 ae
‘i —t ‘ i.)
Je #3 _s ; j
oN an
im 5 ore Yr :
; “on. yo KS
ee ..
erica HOITAMTMA xr
se i . Ty
' aH “a = awa as
> Vr we ae
"uty am eet, ta

S2ALIOIV AGT eo ie

EXAMINATION PAPERS

ON THE

GREEK TRAGEDIANS.

AESCHYLI PERS.

Trinity CoLtece. June, 1832.
Mr. THIRLWALL.

1. DeEFrNE your notion of epic, lyric, and dramatic poetry. What
species of composition is implied in the term lyrical Tragedy? Mention
the various meanings that have been derived from the etymology of the
words rpaywota and tpvywdia. Which of these explanations is most con-
formable to analogy ?

2. On what grounds, according to Aristotle, did the Dorians lay
claim to the invention of Tragedy and Comedy? Point out the fallacy
of the argument he mentions. In what Greek cities out of Attica were
early advances made toward dramatic poetry? Where was any of its
branches brought to its perfection earlier than at Athens? Explain the
proverb ovdt ra Srynorydpou tpia yryvdoxeis. Mention the age, country,
and inventions of Stesichorus, and the character of his poetry as de-
scribed by the ancients.

3. Relate the principal Attic legends concerning the introduction
of the worship of Bacchus into Athens. How did the oracles contribute
to this end? By what means does the worship of Bacchus appear to
have become connected with that of Apollo at Delphi, and with that of
Ceres at Eleusis?

4. Enumerate the Attic Dionysia, and explain the origin of their
particular names. In what Attic month, and at what season of the

416 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

year, was each celebrated? To what division of the Greek nation did
the month Lenzon belong? To what Attic month did it correspond ?
What is the origin of the name, and what inference may be drawn from
it as to the place of the month in the calendar? Which was the most
ancient of the Dionysia at Athens?

5. At which of the Dionysia were dramatic entertainments given?
In which were the dithyrambic choruses exhibited? What were the
peculiar regulations affecting the performances at each festival? In
which were the tpaywdol kavoi? What authority is there for believing
that women were admitted to these spectacles?

6. Translate: cionveyKe vopov tas Tpaywdias aitadv év Kowa ypawapme-
vous pudattew Kal Tov THS TOAEWS Ypapparéa TapavayryvwoKew Tos VroKpt-
vopnevots. Who was the author of this law, and what were its objects?
Translate and explain : ot rounrat tpets éXdpBavov vroKpitas KAjnpw veyn-
Gévras vroKpwopevors Ta Spapata, OV Oo ViKHOAS cis TOUTLOY aKpiTOS Tapa-
AopBaverar. What were the particular denominations of these actors?
How were the parts in the Perse probably distributed among them?
What was the general name for the other characters in a play?

7. Give some examples to illustrate the different light in which
actors were regarded by the Greeks and by the Romans. How is the
fact to be explained?) From what causes did the profession of an actor
rise in importance in Greece between the age of A‘schylus and that of
Demosthenes ?

8. What part of the expense of the theatrical entertainments was
defrayed by the Athenian government, and what by individuals? Men-
tion the various duties and charges to which the xopyyot were subject.
With what powers did the law invest them in the execution of their
office? Explain the origin and nature of the @ewpixov, the changes that
took place in the distribution of it, and its political consequences. Who
were the @eatpdvac and Geatpordiact Explain the allusion in the
characteristic : kat E€vois d€ avtod Oéav ayopacas py Sods TO pépos Gewpeiv.

9. Mention the various ways in which Greek Tragedy was made to
answer political purposes, and produce some illustrations from the ex-
tant plays. By which Tragedian was the drama most frequently so
applied?) What arguments beside that of the Perse were taken from
events subsequent to the return of the Heracleids? How do you
explain the saying attributed to Aischylus: rds avrod tpaywoias repayn
civat Tov “Opypov peyaduv deizvwy |

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 417

10. State the best attested dates of the birth and death of A%schylus.
Enumerate his dramatic predecessors and contemporaries in the order of
time. Mention the leading occurrences in his life, the honours paid to
him after his death, the members of his family whose names are known,
and the causes of their celebrity. Do his plays contain any intimation
as to his political sentiments? What grounds have been assigned for the
charge of impiety said to have been brought against him? What reason
is there for believing that he made more than one journey to Sicily?
When did Hiero become king of Syracuse, and how long did his reign
last ?

11. What were the plays that made up the Tetralogy to which the
Perse belonged? State the principal features of the legends connected
with their names. What ground is there for supposing that the Trilogy
had a common title?’ In what manner may the argument of the Perse
have been connected with those of the other two pieces? What other
poets wrote plays of the same name?

12. Quote the lines of Aristophanes which relate to the chorus of
the Perse. What difficulty have they occasioned? How may they be
understood, without supposing them to refer to any other edition of the
play than the one we have? What other references are made by ancient
writers to passages of the Perse not contained in the extant play of that
name? How may this be accounted for, without supposing them to have
dropped out of the latter? How does Stanley conjecture the chorus of
the Perse to have been composed? How may this conjecture be recon-
ciled with the usual number of the tragic chorus? How is it confirmed
by the distribution of the dialogue?

13. Make out a list of the Median and Persian kings, down to the
fall of the Persian monarchy, noticing the variations between Aéschylus,
Herodotus, and Ctesias. Who was Ctesias? when did he live, and what
were his sources of information? Give the pedigree of Xerxes, and show
how he was related to Cyrus. How many kings of the name of Darius
are mentioned in history ?

14. Mention the divisions of the Persian nation aceording to Hero-
dotus. Howis Xenophon to be understood when he says: A€yovrac Mépoat
appt tas dwdexa pupiddas ctvac? Mention the divisions of the Persian
empire according to Plato, Herodotus, and the Old Testament. How
may the three accounts be reconciled? Trace the frontier of the empire
under Darius in the last year of his reign, and mention the modern
names of the countries through which it passes. Give the modern
names of Susa and Ecbatana, and mention the different opinions on

DTG. 27

418 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

these points. By what name is Susa described in the Old Testament ?
What is the meaning of the word? Mention the mythical and the his-
torical person to whom the foundation of the city is attributed.

15. What is known of the circumstances and life of Darius before
his accession? How does A‘schylus allude to the manner in which he
obtained the crown? Give a short account of his wars, and show how
far their several issues justify the language of /Xschylus: voorou éx

, Lew > a , > ”
Troe Lov QG7TOVOUS amralets €U TPAaTTOVTAS GAYyOV OLKOUVS.

16. Give an account of the invasion of Greece by the Gauls, men-
tioning the time, the occasion, and the leaders of the expedition. De-
scribe the line of their march, and compare the principal incidents of the
campaign with those of the Persian invasion.

17. Draw a map of Salamis and the adjacent coast, marking the
situation of the towns of Salamis, Megara, and Eleusis, and the axrai
YAyviwv, the spot from which Xerxes viewed the battle, and the island
of Psyttaleia. Translate: éeid) éyivovto péoat vires, aviyov mev TO aT
éomépys Képas KukNovpevor pos THY Sahapivas avpyov dé ot api t7Hv Kéov
Te Kal tiv Kuvocovpay teraypévol, Katéxov Te p.€xpt Movvuxins mavta Tov
mopOov thaw vyvot. Describe the position of the three last-mentioned
places.

18. Give a short account of the history of Salamis, and of the way
in which it fell under the dominion of Athens. On what evidence did
the Athenians found their claim to the island? What other ancient
name had it? What is its modern one? Mention the meaning of eacl..
Does Homer (as quoted by Stanley) throw any light upon the epithet
reAevoOpéupova? Explain the epithet in the words axtas audi Kuypeias.

19. Translate :
"Hpéev piv, & d€orowa, TOU TavTOs KaKod
Paveis adaotwp 7) KaKds Saipwv ober.
*"Avnp yap “EXAnv. kK. 7. A.
Who is the person here alluded to? Is he accurately described as
avip“EXXnv? How was he rewarded for his services 4
20. Translate :
——"EdAnow pev qv
‘O ras dpiOpos és tpraxadas deka
Nedv, dexas 8 av tavde Xwpis ExKpiTos.
What is the difference between the numbers of the Grecian fleet
described in this passage and in Herodotus? What part of this fleet

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 419

was furnished by Greeks of Ionian extraction? Compare the statements
of Aischylus and Herodotus as to the numbers of the Persian fleet.
Supply the principal events omitted by Aischylus that intervened be-
tween the battle of Salamis and the retreat of Xerxes, and between his
arrival at Sardis and his return to Susa.

21. Translate :
"ENG ex’ dxpov KopypBov 0xGov
KpoxdBarrov odes evpapw aeipwv
BaotXelov Tidpas

Dadapov tupavoxov.

Explain the allusion in the last part of this passage. Is the evocation
of Darius founded on Grecian or on Persian usage? Where was Darius
buried ?

22. *Apytpov mnyi} Tis adrots Eat, Oncavpos x9ovos.

Describe the district in which this treasure lay, and mention the
ancient and modern names of the principal towns in it. Give an ac-
count of the manner in which its produce was applied before and at the
time of Aischylus. By what peculiar privileges did the government en-
courage the cultivation of it. Explain Xenophon’s project for increasing
its productiveness.

23. Explain the allusion in the words iav Mapravduvod Opyvytipos
réuWo, and give some other examples of similar national usages. Why
is Atossa made to describe Greece as ‘ladvwv yjv, and afterwards to say,
pev mérAoioe Meparkots noxynpevn, 7 8 adre Awpixoiow? Why do the
Greek writers speak of the Persian war as ta Mydixa? Why is Xerxes
described as Sviprov dppa Swxov? Translate: dippupa te Kal Tpippyyna
7é\j? What mention is found in history of the use of chariots in the
Persian armies?

24, Translate the following passage, and arrange it in metrical
order, naming the verses into which you divide it. S8oAepytw 8 amdrav
6 A , ene 6 \ 25 7 E ~ 1 Ow) a \ / ? a aed
€0v Tis avyNp UVEATOS advéet > TIS O KpalTVvmM Toot NOH LAaTos €UTETOUS AVAC-
cov; Piriddpwov yap caivovea TO mpaTov, mapaye. Bpotov eis apkvoTara

_ tobev ovK éotw Urép Ovarov advéavTa pvyéiv.

25. Define and exemplify the metrical terms, «a7s’s, thesis, basis,
anacrusis, anaclasis, cesura, prosodia. What is meant by metres xat’
avrurabevav puxtd? What is an asynartetic verse ?

Explain the grounds on which Hermann objects to the ancient mode
of measuring the iambic verse.

27—2

420 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

26. Explain the terms, hyperbaton, zeugma, prolepsis, and give an
instance of each. Translate: t’s ov téOvyxe, tiva b€ Kat wevOyoopey Tov
apxeretwv, 65 T, em oxnTrovxia TaxGets, avavdpov takw npypov Oavew. In
the lines: ws ei peXatvys vucros tEerar xvedas, “EXAnves ov pevotev, ada
ceApaor Neav érevOopovtes GAXNos GANoce Apacpe Kpvdain Biotov éxow-
cotato—what corrections have been proposed? Translate the lines as
they are here written. Explain the construction of the lines: évrat@a
Tester TOUT, OTWS OTav veav POapevtes e€xOpot vncov éexowloiaro. In what
cases are adverbs of time properly followed by the indicative, in what by
the subjunctive or the optative mood? When is the subjunctive, and
when the optative required after a relative pronoun or adverb? Explain
the distinction between the grammatical and the rhetorical ellipsis. To
what figure does the construction of the following words belong? tu70a
d expvyetv avakt avtov ws axovopev OpyKys apredenpers Svoxipovs Te Keev-
Jovs. Distinguish the different meanings of the following words accord-
ing to the difference of their accentuation : ayy, Bros, Bpotos, yavAos,
Snpeos, Geppos, GoXos, Kados, Knp, Anvos, Aus, vetos, VopLOS, TPOTOS.

SOPHOCLIS PHILOCTETES.

Trinity CoLteGe. June 1833.

Mr. Martin.
1. (a) Give the dates of the birth and death and first tragic victory of
Sophocles.
(b) In what war was he engaged? What was its duration and
event?
(c) How long after the death of Sophocles and Euripides did
Aristophanes produce his Rane ?
(¢7) Translate and explain:
HPA. Ei?’ ovxt Sopoxdéa, zporepov ovr’ Evpurisoy,
MeAAets avayayeiv, cimep exeiOev dei o aye;
AIO. Ov zpiv y dy “loddv7’, drod\aBav aitov pcvor,
"Avev Sodoxréovs 6 te Tored Kwdwvicw. (Ran. 76.)

(«) How far does Phrynichus appear to deserve the title of Father
of Tragedy ?

mae

v0.

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 421
(6) Why was a fine imposed upon him for his Muayrov aAwois!
Where is the story related ?
(c) Translate and explain puypiCovres pédy apXaLropedug WOwvoppuvixy)-
para, (Arist. Vesp.)

(a) What do you consider to be the object of Epic, and Dramatic
poetry?

(b) What the chief characteristic of Grecian tragedy?

(2) At what seasons of the year, and at which of the Dionysia, were
dramatic entertainments given ?

(ce) What is the controversy respecting the Lena?

(f) What was the nature of the laws repi tov Oewpixdv? When
introduced, and with what object? How does Demosthenes
allude to them?

(2) What account does Homer give of Philoctetes ? How many
ships did he bring to the war?

(b) Does he allude to his aid as requisite for the taking of Troy?

(a) What is the situation of Lemnos with respect to Athens?

(6) How came it to be inhabited by the Pelasgi? (Herod. B. VI.)

(2) Where was the island Chryse situated? What account does
Pausanias give of it?

(e)-How was Hercules connected with it?

Explain the terms ‘czesura,’ ‘quasi-ceesura,’ and ‘pause’ in the Iam-
] >
bic trimeter of the tragedians.

‘Eppijs 8 6 wéprwv dodwos yyfoato vov. (v. 133).
(a) In what sense is Mercury called zopzatos in the A ja ?
(b) Illustrate royzratos and d0Av0s from Horace.

-(d) Translate:

"ANd o 6 Matas wopmatos avaé
TleAdoee Soj.ors,

e 3 Sv , ee /)

Qv 7 éxivouw oevdets KOTEXOV

Ipdgeas. (Eurip. Wed. 755.)

422 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

8. ’Opeorépa wapBdr. Ta, parep avtot Accs,
"ld pakatpa TavpoKTovwv
Acovrwv epedpe. (v. 389.)
(a) Illustrate tapBdr. Ta from Lucretius (B. 1). What reason
does he assign for the Greek poets representing Cybele (or
Tellus) in a chariot drawn by lions?
(b) Why was she called ‘Idea Mater’? What ambiguity has the
word ‘Ideea’ caused ?

9. (a) Translate :
Ido d€éxou, rat: tov POdvov b& rpockveor,
My cou yevécOar Todvrov’ atta. (v. 759.)
(b) Does the expression tov POdvov 5¢ mpockvaov, or a similar one,

occur elsewhere ?

10. —— érel rapeote pev
Tedkpos rap jpiv, tHvd éercatnpnv exov. (v. 1038.)

(2) In what sense, and by whom, is Teucer called 6 togérys in the
Ajax? Translate Teucer’s reply od yap Bavavoov tv TExvAV
éxrnoapnv. What difference in the sense would be caused by
the omission or different position of the article ryv?

(b) Which of the Greeks at Troy was the most famous for the use
of the bow? (Hom. Od. y11.)
(c) How do you account for the use of the bow being held in con-
tempt by the Athenians ?
(d) What was their peculiar offensive weapon? (Aisch. Pers.)
1B "Yrv ddvvas adans,"Yrve 8 adyéwv,
Evans nuiv bors
Evatwy, eatwv, dvaé.
“Oppact 8 avréxous tavd atyAav,
“A térarat taviv. (v. 810.)

Give Welcker’s interpretation of this passage, with the grounds on which
it rests.

12. XG KedadAjvov avaé, (vy. 262.)
(2) What do we find respecting the KedaAAjves in Homer ?

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 425
(b) Translate :
ad’ ovx 0 Tvdews yovos,
Ovds’ ovprodntes Sucidov Aaepriov,
Ov pn Oavwor. tovode yap py Civ ea. (v. 411.)

What is the objection to Hermann’s interpretation ?

(c) To which of the generals in the Jliad is Sisyphus said to be
related? (JJ. v1.) What character is there given of him ?

(d@) How may ov p Oavwor be explained by an ellipsis ?

e) What is the chief distinction in the use of ov and py? Distin-
BP)
guish between Yvyx7yv oKxoTdy Piddcodov Kai py, and Yxnv
okorov piecopov Kal ov.

13. (a) Distinguish between puddferar oriBos (v. 48) and dvdaxPyoerat
otiBos.

(b) What is the rule with respect to the use of zpiv followed by an

infinitive, or a subjunctive or optative mood? What is there

remarkable in o dé adixéer avarreGopevos mplv 7) atpekews expabry 4

(Herod. B. viz.)

14. Translate the following passages and explain the construction :
(a) darts vorov Kapvovte avAddBorro. (v. 279.)
(b) rivos yap de tov peyav XoXov kat’ avtav éyxahdv edydvOas ;
(v. 325.)
(c) év 8) wadai” av e& Grov dédoux’ éyo My poor BeByxy, (v. 488.)
(d) mAnobjs tis vorov avvovoia. (v. 512.)
What peculiar sense does dvarivriacOar admit? Is ‘impleri’ ever used
in the same manner ?
(e) zpos otov dv Tovd avtos ovdvaces exer; (Vv. 564.)
Explain the force of dv here, and in évOévde dvdpes ovre ovta, ovre ay
yevopeva, Noyorowtcw. (Thucyd.)

15. Translate the following passages:

(a) Sxoreiv & orov ‘or’ évtatOa dictopos wérpa
Tod’, wv év wiyer pev qAlov durdAq
Tlapeotw évOaxnors, ev bépee & vrvov
Ae apdutpiros avdiov réurer zvoy. (Vv. 16.)

(6) Ti xpy, té xpy pe, Séoror’, ev eva Sévov
Sreyew, 7) ti Néyew zpos avbp’ Urortay ;
Dpale pou. téxva yap Téxvas Eérepas Tpovyel,

494 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

K \ , > Ld
al yvopa, Tap oT
” \ a
To Getov Aws oxqrtpov avdcoera. (v. 135.)
+
(c) Ei 6€ ixpovs, avag, exOes ’Atpeidas,
> \ X ‘\ , ‘\ lal /
Eyo pev To Kelvwv Kaxov TOd€ KEepdos
Meraribénevos, evOarrep eryremover,
Mm 2? > , , \
Ex evotoAov TaxElas vEws

Tlopevoay dv és dopovs. (v. 504.)

(d) Eipre & addov adXorte

Tor’ dv eiAvopevos,

Ilats arep ws pidas tiOnvas, OOev edjraped vrap-

xol, mopov, avik ekaveln daxeOvpos ara.

Ov dopBav tepas yas ordpov, ovK addwv

Aipwv, Tov venopecO avepes addyorat,

TAnv é€ oxvBorwv cizote TOgwv rra-

vots iots avicee yaotpt popBav. (v. 690.)
What are the metrical names of the lines (6) and (d) ?

16. Give the meaning and derivation of the following words:

Oypevo, opvyepos, TalutpiBys, Eumvos, éxOddo7r0s, ovpeciButas. In
what other authors does éy60do70s occur? What different forms of
ovpesButas occur in Sophocles?

KURIPIDIS ALCESTIS.

Trinity Cottece. May, 1837.

Mr. Donapson.

1. Trace the epic and lyric poetry of Greece to their respective
sources, and show how each of them was related to the Athenian drama.
Translate, yevowévy otv ax’ apyqs avtooxediactiKy Kal 4 Tpaywodla Kat 7
KWpwdia, 7) bev aro TOV eapxovtwv Tov SiipapBov, 4 Se azo Tav Ta pad-
Aika, Kata puxpov nvénby. Explain and justify this statement, particu-
larly the former part of it. What other name was given to the duvpap-
Bos, and why? Of how many persons did the dithyrambic chorus con-
sist? How did it differ from or agree with the chorus in a tragedy ?

2. When did Arion flourish? How could he be said tpay:xod rpo-
mov evperns yevéeoOar? Explain the word tpaywdia consistently with your

4
-

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 425

interpretation of this statement. What do you understand by a lyrical
tragedy? What is known of Stesichorus, and what was his real name?
Mention some of the principles which regulated the formation of proper
names among the Greeks. Why was the name Aletes given to the
founder of the Dorian dynasty at Corinth, and what name was for a
similar reason borne by the son of Cimon? To what circumstance did
the poet Euripides probably owe his name? Thucydides mentions Xeno-
phon, the son of Euripi ‘es, as an Athenian general in the year 422 B.c. ;
could this Euripides have derived his name from the same cause?

3. By whom was the custom of performing tragic Trilogies intro-
duced, and by whom was it first abandoned? What was the nature and
origin of the fourth play in a Tetralogy? What place did the dlcestis
occupy in the Tetralogy to which it belonged, and what were the other
three plays? Is the inference which you might draw from the place of
the Alcestis confirmed by any peculiarities in the play itself?

Translate :
Nunc, quam rem oratum hue veni, primum proloquar,
Post argumentum hujus eloquar tragcediz.
Quid contraxistis frontem, quia trageediam
Dixi futuram hance? Deus sum! Conmutavero
Eadem, si voltis. Faciam hance ex trageedia
Comeedia ut sit omnibus isdem versibus.
Utrum sit an ne voltis? Sed ego stultior:
Quasi nesciam vos velle, qui divos siem!
Teneo quid animi vostri super hac re siet.
Faciam ut conmista sit Tragicocomeedia :
Nam me perpetuo facere ut sit comeedia,
Reges quo veniant et Di, non par arbitror. ,

Of what play is this said? Mention other instances of an extrava-
gance, similar to that on which the plot of it depends, in the dramatic
literature of ancient or modern times.

4. How was the iambic trimeter derived from the dactylic hexa-
meter? Give a scheme of the iambic trimeter acatalectic both tragic
and comic. What is Porson’s rule about the pause in the tragic tri-
meter? Can you mention any exceptions to it? We learn from Joannes
Laurentius Lydus that Rhinthon wrote comedies in hexameter verse ;
what remarkable fact in the literature of Rome is explained by this?
To what classes of Greek plays did the pretextata, togata, Atellana and
planipes, respectively correspond? Explain the last word, and show

426 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

from Horace that the pretextata and togata were different. What is
Niebuhr’s opinion about the pretextata ?

5. Translate:

3 \ \ ‘ ,
Eyo Kat dua povoas

‘\ / aD \
Kai perdpovos nga, Kat
Ildciotwy avdpevos Aoywv
Kpetocov ovdey avayKas
Etpoy, ovdé te pappaxov
Opyocas ev cavicow, Tas
’Opdeia Karéypaiev
Tipus, ovd oaa PoiBos “Aokdyridas edexe,

/ , > LZ a
Pdpyaxa woAvrovois avtitéuwv Pporoicr.

(a) Explain and illustrate by examples dia povoas—yéa, and ddp-

2 ,
paka— AVTLTELLOYV.

(6) To what branch of his studies does Euripides allude when he
says, perdpowos noo?
Translate :
Ov yap, pa AC, otoP ori AKloTOVs atrar BooKovert coduotas,
@ovpiopavreis, tatpotéxvas, oppaywWovvxapyoKopnras,
KuxAlov te xopdv aoparokaprras, dvopas eTEwpopevakas.
Also:
Su re Aexrotatwv Ajpov leped, ppale mpos mas o, TL xpH ets.
Ov yap av GAAw y' VroKovcamev THY VOV mEeTEWpOTOdLGTOY,
TIAjv 7) Upodikw: tO pev codias Kal yvouns eivexa, wot dé
"Ort BpvOvea 7 ev tatow odots Kal THPOaApo TrapaPhadrrEKXLs,
Kavurodyros Kaka. T0AN avexet, Kab uty oeuvorporwrets.

And explain all the allusions in both passages. Who were the
Sophists? What is known of the Prodicus mentioned in the second
passage ?

(c) Give some account of Anaxagoras and his peculiar doctrines.
Translate :
> © , > / i , ‘ > , , \ Ld \
Avagayopas ameiBous civat pyot tas apxas' TXdov yap amavTa Ta
e lal / id a A 7 / ‘\ > 4 iP
opovoptepy, Kabarep vdwp 7) Tip, ovTW yiyverOat Kai arohAvabai pot ovy-
Kploet Kal dvaxpioet provov, aAAws 8 ovreE yiyver Oat ovT ardAAvo bat, dAAa
Suapeverv atdua.

And,

s Oe Ld 8 / , wg, , JO 5 ,
Toutéwy d€ ovtw diaKekpipevov ywooke xpy OTL TavTa ovdeV eAKaTow

. De , > ‘ > \ , , = > ‘ "4 > Cv 4
eat ovde 7AEw- Ov yap avucTov TavTwv TA€w elvat, aAAG TavTa toa aiEl.

—— = Phat es — mee macines =

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 427

What was the connexion between Euripides and Anaxagoras? Men-
tion any instances in which Euripides has expressed the opinions of this
philosopher.

(d) What are the cavides Opjooa here alluded tot

(e) In what metre are these lines written?

6. Describe the general features of a Greek dramatic representa-
tion. Where was the Theatre of Athens situated? Quote instances of
allusions made by the dramatists to the locality of the Theatre and the
surrounding scenery.

7. What was yopov diddvac? When did the tragic contests take
place? In what year did Euripides bring out the Tetralogy to which
the Alcestis belonged, and what was his fortune on this occasion? What
play in this Tetralogy was continually ridiculed by Aristophanes, and
why? How is it parodied in the Acharnians ?

Translate:
Sd $y pe tadr’, & crwpvdvocvhAextady

, \ ,
Kai mrwxoroe Kat paxvooupparrady ;

What was probably the object of Aristophanes in composing the
Frogs ?
Translate and explain:
BA. KaTrELTA TOS
Ov kat Sodoxdrens avredaBeroe Tod Opovov;
AI. Mad Ad’ ovk éxeivos, GAN exvoe pev Aioyvdor,
"Ore by xatpAOe, kaveBare tH Sek.av,
Kaketvos irexwopyoev avtd tod Opovov.

8. Give the general rule for the construction of verbs with the
particle dv. What do you conceive to be the origin of this word? Show
that there is no need of alteration in ov yap ot0 ay ei wefcarpi vv, and
confirm this reading by adducing a similar construction in Latin,

9. Ti ceotyntar Sopos “Adpayrov;
Od rav POipevas y eo.
Distinguish between ovygv and cw7gv. Which of these words cor-
responds to tacere and which to silere?

10. Translate:
, x ‘ x
KAveu tis 7) OTEVaypoV, 7)
Xepav xrvmov Kara oréyas,

Dy , c /
H yoov ws mempayyevwv;

428 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

Ov pay ovdé tis apdirodwv
Srarilerar apdi wvdas.

El yop peraxvpuos atas,
*Q Laav, paveins.

cad e -~
IIvAdy zapoibe & ovx opa

a c
IInyatov, ws vopilerar,
Xépvifs, ext POiradv widars:
7) > »” SN ,
Xara 7 ovtis eri mpobvpous
Topatos & 6) vexvwv
TlévOer witver, ovdé veodata

Aouret xeElp yuvaikov.

Explain the words orari€ero1, petaxvpuos, and xépvBa. Why does
Elmsley object to zurvety and purrety, and how are these forms supported
by Hermann and Lobeck? What is, according to Hermann, the dif-
ference between pizrew and pirreiv? Is it borne out by usage? What
is generally the difference in signification between contracted and un-
contracted verbs from the same root in Latm? Explain the formation
of dvorvxetv from tvyxavew and of belligerare from gerere. The MSS.
give veoAaia, Dindorf reads vodaia, Monk veodaig. Which is right,

and why?

11. Translate:

Ti xpy yeveoOar rhv vrepBeBAnnevnv
Tuvaixka; was 8 av padXov évdetarto Tus
Iloow xpotypdc 7 O€Aova’ vaepbaveiv;

What is the difference in Plato between évdecxvvaGar and érdetxvvc bar?
What was the éxideéis of a Sophist? In what cases could an évdeéts be
brought according to the Athenian law, and how was it connected with
an araywyy!

12. Aéfat Oédw cor zpw Oaveiv & Bovropat.

Distinguish accurately between OéAev and BovrAeoGa. Translate:
dy ot Te Geot GeXwor Kal vipers BovAnobe. Which is the older form, @Acyv
or €6é\ew? What is the oldest form of BovAec Oar?

13. Translate:

cal A ra A , ,
Kat was ererppo tyvde TO Kelvns EXEL ;——

Kai pa “reynpys Toicde pytpuav TéKvots.
And,
a aad 4 . , ~ ” => , Bie ik , » »”
ds él Ovyatpl apjropi, TH ovvopa Av Ppovipy, ext tavry eynpe aAXyv
yuvaika, 7) 8 exer Botan. edixalev elvar Kal TO epyw pentpurn TH Ppovipy.

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 429

What is the force of ézi in these passages? What different signifi-
cation does it bear in the word érvyapiat Give some account of the

marriage-law at Athens. How does Aischylus use the word peyTpvia.

metaphorically ?

14. Translate, explain, and compare the following passages :

an .y \ ¢ , \ ‘\
Sopp de xewpt textovwv deuas tO cov
Eixacbev év A€xtportw exrabyoerat,
a ‘\
*Qu zpoorecotpat Kal TepiTTiccwr x€pas
»” A \ \ \ > ,
Ovopa Kadav cov THY KadnV év ayKadaLs
4E cat , td »” »”
Aodgw yuvatka Kaimep ovK Exwv exew,
wy ‘\ 3S 4 >? °
Woxpav pev, ola, Téepyiv, add’ dpws Bapos
lel uv
Wouxfjs amavtoigv av: ev 8 ovetpace
wn 7, > > , 4
Dowraoa po evdpaivors av. 730 ydp didovs
Kav vuxtit Aevooew ovtw av rapy ypdv
PN Xpovov.

Tlo@w & vreprovrias

Pacpa dd€et dopwv avaccew.
Evpopdov b€ Kkolocadv

"ExGerar yapis avdpi,

"Oppatov 8 ev aynvias

"Eppe. maa “Adpodira.

*Overpodhavtor dé revOypoves

Ildpewor Sofa p€povoa xapw paraiav.
Marav yap ett’ av écOAd tis SoKav 6pav
TlapadAagaca dua xepav

BeBakev oyis ov peOvarepov

IIrepots oradots vrvov KedevHors.

15. Translate:

,
TloAAa ce provooToAot
> .
MedWovor kal? Exratovev tT opelay
Xéedw & 7 adi’pos KéovTes Uyvors,

, ‘ e iv, r , ¢ oe
Srapra xvkAcs avika Kapvelov repuvicoerar wpa
Myvos aeipopevas
Tlavvvxov oeAavas

~~ >. >. , ,
Aurapaici + év oABias “APavats.

What was the origin and nature of the Carnea, and in what month
were they celebrated? Why is the epithet Avrapos applied to Athens?

16. How is the legend about the death of Alcestis and the servitude
of Apollo to be explained ?

430 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

Translate :

Ovpos 8 adéxrwp avrov jye pos pvdAqv. (Soph. Adm.)

What is probably the meaning of the name "Aduyros as applied to
this mythical King? How do you account for the introduction of Her-
cules? Was he a Dorian divinity? How does it appear from this play
that Apollo and Death were dressed? How are they represented in
ancient works of art?

17. Translate:
Kal cad oid dbovvera
Tov viv oxv§pwrod Kat Evveatatos ppevav
MeOoppuct oe ritvAos eurerov oxidov.
And,
0 Te ex yns Telos audorépwv, icoppoTov THis vavpaxlas KabeoTyKvIas,
moNvv Tov ayava Kat Evoracw THs yvemns €lye.
Explain the word zizvAos. Does pefoppicacOa: usually govern the
genitive? Ifso, mention some instances.

18. Translate:
"ANN edtvxoins, vootysov 6 eOois oda.
’"Aotois 6€ 7a ° éyvérw TeTpapXt
oTols 6€ magn T evverw TETpapyxia
Xopovs éx écOAais cupdopatow toravar

, an , a
Bopovs TE KVLOGV BovOvrowwe TpOOTpoTats.

And the following oracle:

Avd6 “EpeyPadatow, door Tavduvos aoru
Tit \ / / 24.7 ae ‘
Natere, kat ratpiourt vopors ibivel Eopras,

lal , ‘ > / > > ‘
Mepvjcbat Baxxovo, Kat evpvxopovs Kat ayulas
c , c / / / 4 ,
Ioravat wpaiwy Bpopiw xapw apprya mavtas

n lal , , ,

Kat xvicdv Bwpotor, kapy otepavois TuKacavTas.

(2) What was the Tetrarchy here alluded to? Give some account
of the ethnography and old constitution of Thessaly. Who
were the Aleuads, and where did they reign? Where was
the kingdom of Admetus?

(b) Why does xvurav govern an accusative in one of these passages
and a dative in the other?

was the worship of the former introduced into Attica, and
when and by what means established at Athens?

19. Are pdprrw and eipapys connected? What is the root, and
where does it appear in its simplest form? Derive aprapeivy, tAnppvpis,

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 431

(what is the quantity of the penultima in Homer’), povayrvé, oxvd,
oppavevew, Kedvos, cepvos, and avdyxy. Which is right, oidas or otcba?
What is the syntax of zpiv? Distinguish between 6 adv6pwros ards,
and 6 avtds avOpwros. Is ov cou py pebeyouat tore an allowable con-
struction? If so, what do these words mean? Are there any other
instances of a similar construction? If so, adduce and explain them.
Accentuate the following words according to their different significa-
tions: pytpoxtovos, afwos, arya, Tonto, vupdos, prpio, teifw, and
Aryuvs. What are the futures of éo6w and zivw }

20. Translate the following passages, and point out any peculiari-
ties which you may think deserving of notice:

(a) ovppetpws 8 adixero

Ppovpav 160 juap © Oaveity avtnv xpewv.
(b) IIpos tav éxovrwv, PotBe, tov vopov tiOys.
(c) TIoAN av ov deEas ovdev av wéov aBors:

‘H © ovv yun Kareow eis “Avdov ddopovs.
(d) “HPA. Tivos 8 o Opélas wats matpos Kopralerat;
XOP. “Apeos, Caxpicov Opyxias wéAtys avaé.

(e) Te xpyjpa Kovpa thse wevOipw mpérets;
(/) "A, pn mpoxa’ akoutw, és 70d dvafadod.
(9) Tot yap putevwy maidas ovker av POavors.

(h) “AAM. ‘Qs pajror’ avipa rovde vupdiov Kaddv.
“HPA. “Eryveo’ adoxw muotds ovver’ ef didos.
(‘) “HPA. Todpa mporetvar xetpa Kat Ovyciv Eevys.
"AAM= Kai 57 zporeivw, Topyov’ ws Kaparopw.

SOPHOCLIS ANTIGONE.

Trinity CoLLece. June, 1860.

Mr. Hammonp.

1. Quote Horace’s account of the origin of the Greek Tragic Drama.
Point out its errors. What writers composed tragedies at Athens before
the time of Sophocles? What improvements in tragic art were succes-
sively introduced by them? What changes are attributed to Sophocles?

432 EXAMINATION PAPERS ON

Quote passages from Aristophanes in which allusion is made to Sopho-
cles and his predecessors.

2. Give the dates of Sophocles’ birth and death and of his first
tragic victory. What was the title of his first Tragedy, and what the
circumstances attending its representation? Discuss the date of the
Antigone. Point out any passages which seem to you to refer to the
political state of Athens. How does this play serve to connect Sophocles
with Herodotus? What further evidence have we in support of this
connection ?

3. Give a general description of a Greek theatre, and show how it
differed from a Roman theatre. Explain the terms:

, A , , ,
OvpeAn—doyetov—s poo Kynviov—7repiaxtos— BovdevtiKov.

Describe the locality of the theatre of Dionysus at Athens, and
quote passages from the dramatists in which special allusion is made to
its situation and construction.

4. Discuss the following questions, (1) The number of Dionysia at
Athens: (2) The time of year at which each festival was held: (3) The
peculiar circumstances and regulations affecting the audience and the
performances at each festival.

5. How were the general expenses of the Dionysiac performances
defrayed? What portion fell upon the choragus? What were the duties,
privileges and powers attached to this office? To whom were the actors
allotted? Mention the names of any who performed in Sophocley
dramas. Assign the several parts of the Antigone to their respective
actors. Is there any change of scene in this play? Is the Eccyclema
employed?

6. (a) "Ere 6€ tpirov rapa tatra tov péeAXovra wovety TL TOV aV)KE-
oTwv Ov ayvolay avayvwpica TplW TOTAL. Kal Tapa TadTaA OK coTW GAAws.
oy \ AL Cy a , mein 7 x \ .9sa7 , ‘ \ \ ,
7) yop mpagat avayKyn 7) wy* Kat €eidoras 7) py €idoTas. TovTwY OE TO pey yLw-
oKovTa peAAnoaL Kal pn Tpagar xXEtpioTov. TO TE yap puapov ExEL Kal Ov

, > ‘ , , 2. A Ace , > Ao , a >
Tpayikov' arabes yap. di7rep ovdels Toret opoiws ei py OALydKts: olov ev
"A / ‘ K / c AL

vrvyovyn tov Kpéovra o Aipov.

Translate this passage and explain the allusion. How does the Scho-
liast excuse the incident? What is your own opinion on the subject?

(2) XOP. “Apdo yap aita Kal xataxteivar voeis;

~ > , 4 A io) \ > ,
ek ov THV ye pn Oryovoav: ed yap ovv eEyels.

Give the substance of Hermann’s comment on these lines. How

would you explain their introduction by Sophocles?

Ad en

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 433

Assuming the coexistence of an ethical and an artistic element in
this play, show how Sophocles attempts to satisfy the requirements of
both in the development of the plot and of the two leading characters.

7. Quote Horace’s lines on the duties of the Chorus, and apply
them to the particular case of the Antigone. Distinguish between the
terms zapodos, otacipov, and éupeéAca, and explain the connexion exist-
ing between the odes in this play and the dramatic action of the piece.

8. Tot zpiv Oavovtos Meyapéws kAewvov Naxos.

By what name is Megareus known in the Phenisse? How is his
story introduced into that play? Does his death precede or follow that
of Eteocles? Do you suppose that Sophocles intended to follow the an-
cient legend in all the subordinate incidents of this play? Mention an
instance from the Gidipus Coloneus in which he has departed from the
account of the Cyclic Thebais. In which of his plays has Sophocles vio-
lated the so-called Unities of Time and Place?

9. Draw a map which shall contain Beotia, the islands of Eubea
and Naxos, and the Saronic Gulf.

10. Translate the following passages, and, wherever the meaning or
the text is a matter of dispute, give your own opinion on the subject
and your reasons for it:

=) \ sae,
(1) *Q xowov avradehpov “Iopnvns Kapa,
pd, > + a. ‘ A Ce Pinu aA
ap oia@ ort Zevs tov aw Oidimov KaKov
e a 775 ~~ m” , cal
o7rotov ovxi vov ere Loca Ted;
INN \ WLI, 3 ‘ ¥ > » »
ovdev yap ovT adyewvov ovT atys arep
ay > \ 4 ia * , ° a oe A >
OUT aicxpov ovT atiwov eof omotoy ov
~ ~ ~ »” > ‘A ~
TOV COV TE KGLOV OUK OTT ey KAKOV.
a a?
(2) Totos audit var érabn
, ” > /
matayos “Apeos avtiradw
dvoxeipwya SpaKovte.

(3) Kaoijpe? axpwv ex raywv vrjvepor,
> 4 or Vs > ~ ‘\ , ,
oopyv ar avtod pa Bary mrepevyores,
> \ a ” >? 8 gh > ae
éyeptt Kwav avdp avinp émppobors
aA ” aw 2? , ,
KaKOlTlV, ElTLS TOD aedycoL TovoV.

(4) “AAN cir’ adeAdis «i cpaovertépa
Tov wavTos nyiv Zyvos épxetov Kupet
avr) TE x7 Evvaysos ovK a
Popov KakiaTou.
D. T. G. 28

434

EXAMINATION PAPERS ON
(5 "AX eike Oupa Kal peTacTacw didov.
(6) "Epws, Os ev xryjpacu wires.

(7) “Ewavoas adyeworaras épot pepipvas,
TATpOS TpiTOALTTOV OLKTOY,
TOO TE TPOTAVTOS ajLeTEpoV TOTHLOV
kAewots AaBdaxidaorw.

(8) °AAN ei pev ody 7ad éotiv év Deois Kaa,
mabdvres av Evyyvotpey jpapTyKores:
, 3 eo « , . , 4
ei 8 old dpaptavovs., py mew KaKa.

/, xv XN “ . , , x
arabovev KGL dpdcw EKOLKWS EpLe.

Q ‘ ca 3 , a
(9) Bwpot yap ypiv éoxapar te wavtedets
mAjpes Ur olwvdv te Kal Kvvdv Popas

an / ~ 3997 ,
TOU dvgpopou TETTWTOS Oidizrou yovov.

= , a

(10) *Q xpéoBv, ravres, @OTE TOLOTAL TKOTOV,
, > , \ ~ JAN tal

Tokever avdpos TODSE, KOVOE PAVTLKAS

” A A

ampaxros vptv eipi, TOV val yévous

3s , > , ,

eEnumoAnpat Kaxrepopticpat maha.

(11) °Q wavres dorol, rév Adywov eryocOopnv
mpos €£0d0v oteixovoa, TahAados beds
ows ikoiynvy ebypatwv mpoonyopos:

Kal tTvyxavw Te KAHOp avacractoo wvAs
xardoa kal pe pbdyyos oikelov KaKOv

Barra. 80 Gv.

(12) Tlapacravtes tady
aOpnoa? dppov xdparos AGoo7ad7
Suvres mpds avtd otdpuov, et Tov Aipovos

, , 2a a ,
pOoyyov cvviny’ 7) Geotor KNerropat.

11. Discuss the grammatical peculiarities of the following passages:

(1) ’Apyxavov de mavtos avopos expabety
Woy Te kal ppovnpa Kat yvopnv, mp av
apxais Te Kal vopourw evtprbys pavp.

lel a ,
(2) ‘Qs dv oxorol viv re Trav cipypevov.

(3) Tedv, Zed, divacw tis avdpav

e , ,
trepBacia KaTacXoL;

(4) "ANN dvdpa, Kel tis 7} Todos, K.T.A.

——

THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 435

Explain the use of the negatives in the following :
(a) “Eyo & orws od pa Eyes opOds ade,
ot dv duvaiunv pyr eriotaipnv éyew.
(8) “Hrs tov avtrys avtadeAdhov év dovats
mertor a0arrov py var wpnotdv Kvvav
y > > , ‘sf? e 3 > “~ /
clus od€cOat, pn? vr oiwvav Twos.
Accentuate the word ozove in the line

GAN tcO orova cot Soxet.

12. Derive, illustrate, or otherwise explain the following words:

Tavradwbeis — deEworeipos—racacbar—repiBpvx.os—vrihAove.—rrept-
, ,
oKxehns—kataptiew—éry Boos —épepvos —Ovatas— opyta—mactrds—Kvo-

dovTes.

28—2

> Lire: ae aid, yx Se 4 stele” 3)
al OTK viareyaga’ “ne Shans se 1) . tate:
~ aetna Die! i) obSo one

€ siriow “uiti welict 333 Tews ba a vias er UL ed Dvieas) ld Ae
ok Rivs-< S0s leghziet = + yey, L rep aves —tgaciegasl Wh path he aa
Bnei pis eS ig pas ye gif _ pian erm

: .
«4 —4- et eae -vTri

g-s er ne Be

“Se aD a’
: url @ullak aad GR RNGRMead a «| Ye ae Oe
’ cov eagakeiny wae nes toy)

?* =

J ps areal! a in jon tr

> .
ie eT crew sa
'
. . 7+
ia 4, vo hasag...” ‘ AeA

oe = _——
i
as
) ay IA€.
i ~j
4 = i ca)
ft = OF
' =a dy wi,
; a% (i ae
4¢ hi 7
. ‘ = 7:
f; te w

oe. oe.) | pea — Ms re hk
nu ae obit: i i we

———— ss se eeeDhr tsar

INDEX.

Acuzus Eretriensis, the tragedian, 160

Acharnians, 182, 300 sqq.

Actors, one introduced by Thespis, 59;
another by Alschylus, 98; a third by
Sophocles, 120, and Cratinus, 169 ; only
three allowed to each dramatist, 215, 268;
their gains and character, 272; not paid
by the choragi, 215; neglected by-play
altogether, 269; used bodily exercises,
272

Admission-money to the theatre, 27

Adonis, 18

Adrastus, subject of lyrical tragedies at
Sicyon, 41.

Aigicores, 58

AXHolic form in the dramatists, 379

Aaschines as an actor, 273, 274

Alschylus, his life, 95—98; number of his
dramas, 98; improvements in tragedy,
98, 99; his Agamemnon, 276; Chie-
phoree, 279; Eumenides, 281; his poli-
tical aims therein, 97, 201; Suppliants,
109; Seven against Thebes, 106; Per-
sians, 105; Prometheus Bound, 107, 283;
Prometheus Fire-bringing, 102, note 3;
Orestea, 111; his style and diction, 103;
his plays allowed to be acted after his
death, 99, note 4; a Pythagorean, 7.
note 5; his Duxedopuds, 97, note 1; ac-
cused of plagiarism from Phrynichus, 92,
note 11; relation between his tragedy
and the plastic arts, ro1, note 1; his
aristocratical spirit, 97; his works bear
internal proofs of his fondness for the
Dorians, ro2; and of his military spirit,

103

Afranius, 308

Agatharchus, the inventor of stage scenery,
241

Agathon, the tragedian, 160; first inserted
choruses foreign to the play, 340

“Aypnvby, 257

Atwpat, 241

Alexis, the comedian, 198

"AXknoris, no reason to show that Thespis
never wrote a play so named, 66

Ameipsias, the comedian, 173

"Avayvaspiors or Discovery, 336

Anapests, when they may form the first
foot in the senarius, 378, note.

Anapestic Tetrameter Catalectic, 391

Anapestic verses, 387; why mostly used in
opening choral song, 243, 266

Anaxandrides, the comedian, 198

"Avia, ’Avcapés, quantity of, 412

Anthesteria, 19

Antigone, parody of the, 255

Antiphanes, the comedian, 78, 19

*"AmayyeAla, 42 :

’"Amépacts, 326

Apollo and Ormuzd, 20

Apollodorus, the comedian, 203

Apsephion, or Aphepsion, the Archon, 114

Araros, the son of Aristophanes, 193

"ApBUrAaL, 245

Archilochus, 51; imitated by Cratinus, 169

Archon’s wife espoused to Dionysus, 19

Ariadne, 16

Arion, the originator of the Tragic Chorus,
38

Aristarchus of Tegea, 160

Aristias, son of Pratinas, 94

438 INDEX.

Aristophanes, 177; place of his birth, 178,
time of this birth, 180; his Banqueters,
ib.; Babylonians, 181; Acharnians, 182;
Knights, 2b.; Clouds, 183—185; Wasps,
185 ; Peace, 186; Amphiaraus, ib. ; Birds,
ib.; Lysistrata, 188; Thesmophoriazuse,
189; Frogs, ib; Ecclesiazuse, 191 ; Plutus,
192; AMolosicon, 193, note 4; Cocalus,
193; number of his plays, 193; buf-
foonery and licentiousness, 194; excel-
lences, 195

Aristotle, his Poetic, 318; its antagonism
to Plato, 325; his assertion that the early
drama was extemporaneous, how explain-
ed, 39; his etymology of kwuwdla incor-
rect, 70; his definition of Tragedy, 325

Art and Idolatry, 4

Artemis Tavporé\7, 16

Asinius Pollio, 310

Aspendus, theatre at, 220

Astarte, 13

Atellane Fables, 307

Attic Crases, 375 sqq.

Attic dialect in the dramatists, 371

Attius, 309

Audience, theatric, 270; its number, 211;
behaviour, 272

Augment, Attic, 371

Av\ala, 240

Baal-Peor, 18

Bacchie choruses three in number, 35
Bacchus ’Quodpd-yos, 17

TaupoKEepws, 17

Bacchus, early worship of in Attica, 9, 53
Bacchus, oriental origin of his worship, 12
Bacchus, his pedigree, 12

Bernays, 326

Bovine deities, 15

BovXeurixéy, 228

Brauronia, 56

Bpovretov, 241

Bull, connected with the Dithyramb, 38
Buskin, introduced by ASschylus, 99

C,
Cacus, 16
Cesura in the Senarius, 380, note

| Carcinus, the tragedian, 161

Catastrophe, 333

Cheremon, 162

Characters, which best for tragedy, 333

Charonic ladder, 229

Chionides, the comedian, 167

Xrapvs, 257

Cheerilus, the tragedian, 91

Choragi, their office and how chosen, 214,
their rivalry, 218; successful, honours of,
218

Choragic expenses, 214

Xopov diddvar, 215, note 5

Chorus, origin of, 26; etymology of the
word, ib. note 1; properly limited to a
fixed dancing-place, and so distinguished
from the comus, 29; Tragic, Comic, num-
ber of, 243

Christus Patiens, 163

Chronology of the Greek Drama, 204—209

Cleisthenes of Sicyon, 41

Cleon, 182

Clepsydra, used to portion out the time
of a dramatic representation, 219

Comedy, etymology of, 71, 211; when
established at Athens, and why, 76

Comedy, the Old, its origin and nature, 76;
prohibited for a time, 168; number of
plays, 167; its political meaning, 78

Comedy, the Middle, how different from
the Old, 78; number of its pieces, 196;
difficult to distinguish between its writers
and those of the Old Comedy, 78

Comedy, the New, its origin and nature,
80; circle of its characters, 81

Comic trimeter, 379 ;

Comus distinguished from the chorus, 29

Concurrences of short syllables, 399

Condalium of Plautus, 260

Costume, 252 sqq.; on the modern stage,
266

Crane, theatrie machine so called, 241

Crases, Attic, 375 sqq.

Crates, the comedian, 170

Cratinus, the comedian, 168

Cretic termination, 396

Critias, 163

Cyclic chorus the same as the Dithyrambie,
36

Cyrenaic picture, 245

INDEX.

Dactyls in Anapeestic verse, 391

Dances—Gymnopedic, Pyrrhic, Hyporche-
matic, 33; those of scenic poetry, 35

Dante, 103, 136

Days of the Week, 14

Demeter, 19

. Aéow kal Avots, 339

Anutoupyos, 32

Ataypdupara, of the chorus, 267

Ardfwua, 227

Adkptot, 57

Didascaliz, 219

Avddoxew Spada, 217

Dinolochus, the comedian, 167

Dionysia, number of, 211; account of, 211
sqq-

Dionysius, 135, 163

Diphilus, the comedian,

Awsreyla, 230

Dithyramb, explanation of the word, 36,
note 2; nature of, 36; gave birth to tra-
gedy, 325

Doors in the scene, their number and desti-
nation, 231 ;

Dorians adopted the religion of conquered
countries, 21; claimed the invention of
the drama, 321

Doric forms in the dramatists, 370

Drama, origin of, 2

Drama, Greek, religious reference of, 2 sqq.;

202

]

choral elementof, 27 sqq.; rhapsodical |

element of, 50 sqq.; an union of the
rhapsody with the cyclic chorus, 56 sqq.;

arose in the Dorian states, 27; at the |

beginning extemporaneous, according to
Aristotle, 39, 325 ; its first metre trochaic,
323; essentially different from the modern
in its mode of representation, 210; its time
of performance, 211—213; its means of
performance, 213 sqq.; its place of per-
formance, 220 sqq.; its manner of per-
formance, 242 sqq-

Drama, Lyrical, 42 sqq.

Dramatists originally their own actors, 59,
note Io

Dress of the actors, 252

dpdmos, 230

Duplicate divinities, 21

Eephantides, 168

EitX\wres of él Tawdpy, 75

Hipxry, 231

Hicoéor, 232

ExkvkAnpa, 238

Elementary worship, 13

Eleusinian mysteries, language of,
note 7

"EuBara, 247

Hmendations of Strabo, 4, note 4; of Pau-
sanias, 25, note 4; of Diphilus, ro4, note 1;
of Euripides, 28, note 6, 138, note 8; 150,
note 1; of Aristotle, 345, note 1

*"Eypddera, 35

122,

“Huw et hiv, 400, 412

Ennius, 309

’Evdm)uos puduos, 33

Eretckwpdt, 71

‘Eri8\nua, érimoprapa, 2

*Ednfixor, 228, note 4

Epicharmus, inventor of Comedy, life and
account of, 165

Epic poetry compared with tragedy, 347—
351

Epic forms in the dramatists, 369

Epigenes, the Sicyonian, 42

Epirrhema and antepirrhema, 268

Episodic plots, the worst, 33%

Episcenus, 230

Eubulus, the comedian, 197

Euphorion, the tragedian, 162

Eupolis, the comedian, 171; relations with
Aristophanes, 173

Euripides, time and place of his birth, 130;
rank of his parents, 132; his education,
wb.; his exile, 133; his death, 134; his
Electra, 147, 148, 293; Alcestis, 75, 142,
299; Iphigenia in Aulis, 149; Ion, 144;
Hippolytus, 143; Medea, 142; Troades,
147; Hecuba, 144, 145; Hercules Fu-
rens, 145; Pheenisse, 148; Orestes, 7b.,
292; Iphigenia in Tauris, 146; Andro-
mache, 7b., 292; Bacchr, 149, 293 sq.
Suppliants, 146, 293; Heraclide, 142;
Helen, 147; Rhesus, 141; Cyclops, 143,
297; said to have been assisted by So-
crates, 137; his character as a dramatist,
139; his relation to Aschylus and So-

440

phocles illustrated by a comparison be-
tween his Electra, Aischylus’ Choéphoree,
and Sophocles’ Electra, 152—158; turn-
ed the rhapsodical element of Greek
Tragedy into a sophistical one, 137; his
political opinions, 138; his Anaxagorea,
137; his rhetorical vanity, 135, 230; his
misogynism, 133; his style, 138; a fore-
runner of the New Comedy, 81; how
esteemed by Aristophanes, 137, 169; by
Menander and Philemon, 200, 201; his
excellences, 232; inventor of tragi-comedy,
75; why popular in the middle ages, 136;
quoted by St Paul, r51, 201

Euripides explained, 25, 28, 144, 145

Euripides, junior, 162

Examination paper on A®schylus’ Perse,
415; Sophocles’ Philoctetes, 420; Euri-
pides’ Alcestis, 424; Sophocles’ Anti-
gone, 431.

"EE dudéns Néyew explained, 70, note 6

*Eidpxew—téapxos explained, 29

*LéeNlcow, 28

Exode, 266, 333

’"Hiworpa, 238

Fables (u000), or plots, 322

Fable, unity of, 330

episodic, the worst, 331

simple and complicated, 332

Fables, Atellane, 307

Farnese Bull, 310

Flute-player, 264

Fox, C. J., on Euripides, 135

Frogs, representation of the first scene of
the, 261, note 3

Wépavos, 241
Goat, the prize of Tragedy, 40
Gymnopredia, 33

Hegemon, the parodist, 320
Heraclides Ponticus, the Pseudo-Thespis, 65
Hercules, his theatrical costume, 255

INDEX.

Hermippus, the comedian, 171

Herodotus, passage of respecting Pisistratus
discussed, 57 ; meets Sophocles in Samos,
IIs

Historical plays, 74

Historian and Poet compared, 330

Homer gave the first idea of Tragedy, 322;
and of Comedy, ibid.; character of, ibid.
348

Horace, Epist. ad Pisones, 310

Human sacrifices, 14

Hyporcheme, 34

Iambic metre, invention of, 51

Iambic poems models for the tragedians,
54

Iambic tragic senarius, 377

— comic ———, 379

tetrameter catalectic, 382

Ictus metricus, 377, 393, 397, 398

Imitation, love of, the origin both of the
fine arts and idolatry, 3, 4

Indian drama, its comparative antiquity, 7

Inscriptions, Orchomenian, 45—49

Ton Chius, the tragedian, 159

Iophon, the son of Sophocles, 162

‘Jovial’ and ‘Saturnian’, 14

Judges, Dramatic, 217

Kd@apous, 325

Kara fvyd-—xara orolxous, 243

Kepavvockoreiov, 242

Kepxlées, 228

KXluaxes, 228

KXiotoy, 231

K60opvos, 245 sqq.

Kotor, 227

Koupdriov, 267

Koppol, 226, 333

Kovicrpa, 229

Kopudaios, 215

Kécpos, 28

KGvpos, signification of the word, 70; dis-
tinguished from xopés, 29

Kwyupietv—rod wh dvouacrl, 79, note 1

Kwpwila, etymology of, 71

INDEX.

Laberius, 308

Laocoon, group of, 102

Lasos, 36

Aevroupyety, 214, note 4

Aetroupylac éyxvxkdol, 214

Aeuxdrrodes, 25

_Anivapxixdy ypauparetoy, 270

Alay, quantity of, 412

Livius Andronicus, 309

Aoyetov, 220, 229, 233 ; why so called, 100,
note 5

Avows kat Adois, 339

Lycophron’s Alexandra, 163

Lycurgus, the orator, his law respecting
the three Tragedians, 274

Lyrical Tragedy, 40, note 6, 45 sqq.;
Comedy, ib, 72

Macaulay, Lord, on the corruption of tra-
gedy, 135

Machon, the comedian, 203

Magnes, the comedian, 168

Manners, requisites of, in Tragedy, 340

Margites, influence of, upon Comedy, 322

Masks, introduced by A®schylus, 99; vari-
ous forms and reason of, 248

Megacles, 57

Megarians claimed the invention of Comedy,
321

Meletus, the tragedian, 162

MéArecda and por}, 30

Menander, 200; quoted by St Paul, 201,
note 6

Mnxav7, 241

Metres, tragic, 377

. Middle Comedy, See Comedy.

Madjjrov dwots, 93

Mimes, Roman, different from Greek, 307 ;
not altogether farcical, 308; the early
germ of the Commedia dell’ Arte to be
sought for in them, 307

Minotaur, 16

Moloch, 15

MoA77, 30

Mosaic, Pro-Clementine, 244

Mutes, or dumb actors, their masks, 249

Midos, 332

Myrtilus, the comedian, 171

441

Neevius, 309

New Comedy. See Comedy.
Nicostratus, Aristophanes’ son, 193
Niebuhr on historical tragedy, 74, note 5
Niobe, group of, 310 .

Number of separate representations in one
day, 219

*OyKos, 248

Odyssey, a storehouse for the satyrical plays,
I15, note 2

’OxplBas, 220

Old Comedy. See Comedy.

Orchestra, 226

Orchomenian Inscriptions, 45—49

’OpOwaola, 16

Oscilla, 250

Ovdéev mpds Acdvucov explained, 69, note 3

Ovid, considered as a tragic writer, 310

Pacuvius, 309

Pean, 35

Pantagruelism, 77

IIdpado, 57

Parabasis, 267

Ilapackyjvia, 234

Ilapackjviov, 234, 268
Ilapaxopyynua, 268
Ilapacrdrns and rpitroordrns, 216
IlapeyxvxXnua, 239, note 4
Parodus, 230

Pasiphae, 16

IId@os and Id@nua, 326

Pause in the Senarius, 380, 400
Tledtator, 57

Ileplaxrot, 231, 239
Tlepiréreca, 332

Perse, examination paper on, 415
Persona, etymology of, 249
IInvixn, 248

Phaethon, 14

Phalaris and Moloch, 16
Phallic processions, 72

Phallic worship of Bacchus, 19
Pevdkn—gevaxifew, 248

442

Pherecrates, 170; his metre, ibid. note 10

Philemon, the comedian, 199 -

Philippides, 199

Philippus, the comedian, 193

Philoctetes of Sophocles, examination pa-
per on, 420

Phormis, the comedian, 166

Ppbynua explained, 115, note 1

Phrynichus, the tragedian, 92

Phrynichus, the comedian, 171

Phya, 57

Pindar explained, 16, 37, 38, 43, 44

Pisistratus, 57; his encouragement of lite-
rature, 62

Planetary worship, 14

Plato, the comedian, 174

Plato, his definition of Tragedy and Comedy,
73

Plato Leges, 844 D. explained, 17

Pleiades, the seven poets so named, 163

Plots or fables, 332

Plutewm, 230

Tlvivos, 267

Podium, 233

Poet, successful, honours of, 218 ; his fame
transient as compared with that of the his-
torian, 219

Pollux, Julius, 356 sqq.

Posidippus, the comedian, 203

Precinctiones, 227

Pratinas, account of, 94; inventor of Sa-
tyric Drama, 69

IIpocipla, 228, note 4

Prologue, 60

Proper names in the Tragic Senarius, 379,
403

IIpooxjviov, 227, 229, 307

Ilpocwmeov, 248

IIpwraywrors, his functions, 216

IIptXees, 28

‘*Punch,” 258, note 4, 307

Funning in the ancient tragedies,
note I

Pyrrhic and Proceleusmatic feet, 33

Pyrrhic dance, 33; performed on horse-
back, 34

136,

Rabelais, 77, note 3
Religio not from religare, 311

INDEX.

Rhapsodes, etymology of the word, 50;
nature of, ibid.

*Pjjcts, 60

Rhinthon, writer of tragi-comedy, 203

Rhythm comprises metre, 322

Right and left on the stage, 232

Roman theatre, 306

Saturn, his functions, 14

‘Saturnine’ and ‘ Jovial,’ 14

Satyr and Silenus distinguished, 24

Satyric drama, actors in how dressed, 264

Tkyvy, 226

Scenery, 24

— invented by Agatharchus, did.

Schiller’s definition of Tragedy, 74, note 2

DedlSes, 228

Semele, 20

Seneca, 312; his influence on the French
dramatic writers, 313

Serpent, as a symbol of life, 18

Seventh day sacred to Saturn and the Sun,
T4

Simonides of Amorgus, 52

Sicyonians, their share in the invention of
Tragedy, 41

Six, a perfect number, 14

Dxcépera, 17

Soccus, 258

Socrates, Xenophon’s and Plato’s account
of, to be received with allowance, 97, 184

Sopater, writer of tragi-comedy, 203

Sophocles, his life, 113—117; colleague
of Pericles, 115; acquainted with Hero-
dotus, ibid.; his death, 116; his cha-
racter as aman, 121; his public charac-
ter, ibid. ; his improvements in Tragedy,
119; number of his plays, 117; his
(Edipus Rex, 127; CE£dipus at Colonus,
128, 287; Antigone, 128; Ajax, 125,
291; Philoctetes, 129; Trachiniz, 126;
Electra, 125 ; comparative merits of the
remaining seven, 124; difference of cha-
racter between him and Adschylus, 120;
in what respect Homeric, 103, note 3;
his general principles of action, 121; not
fully appreciated by the moderns, 119;
wrote other works besides tragedies, 117

Sophocles, junior, 162

INDEX.

Sophron, Mimes of, 320
Sosicles, the tragedian, 163
Sotades, writer of tragi-comedy, 203
Spectators, number of, &e., 211
Spengel, 325

Stage-curtain, 240

Stasimon, 333

Stahr, 326

Stesichorus, 37, note 5

Sun and moon, worship of, 13
Zuwddea, 389

Lxoworevys, 37

Syrus, 308

z by

Terpander, 31

Theatre, Grecian, description of, 220 sqq.

Theatre, Roman, 306 sqq.

Ocarpuvns—Oearporudns, 271

Theodectes, 163

Theodorus the actor, why he sustained the
part that first appeared on the stage, 217

Ocodoyetov, 231

Theopompus, his Althea, 262

Theoric fund, 271 sqq.

Thespis, 59; Bentley’s assertion that he
wrote nothing, and that his tragedies
were entirely droll, incorrect, 64 ; names
of some of his plays, 60, 66, note 3; may
be an assumed name, 63, note 1

Thrasyllus, choragic monument of, 218

Thrasymachus, 185, note 3

Thymele, 220, 229 ~

Thyreatic crowns, 33

Timocles, the comedian, 198

Tpaytkds tpbros, what? 40

Tpaywola, origin of the word, 40, 68

Tpaywdiay diddoxew, 217

Tragedy, origin of, 323; its parts of quality,

445

324; its parts of quantity, 335 ; ideal of
the Roman form of, 310
Tragedies, modern and ancient, distinction
between, 6
historical, 74, note 5
Tragedians, Attic, plagiarized from the gno-
mic poets, 54, note 3 ; 122, note 4
Trilogy, Alschylean, tor
Trochaic metre, 51, 323
Trochaic tetrameter catalectic of tragedy, 384
of comedy, 386

U.
"Yrepaxpto., 57
"Yrroxplvec@at, used of the rhapsode, 53,
note 2
‘Trockjviov, 235

Valve regia, 231
Versure, 235
Vitruvius, 222 —226, 352

Waggon of Thespis, 60
Women were present at dramatic exhibi-
tions, 271

B. a

Xenocles, the tragedian, 161
eva, 231

Zagreus, 17
Zevds Xwrip, the god of mariners, 104,
note I,

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